Approching nigh, the venome she did shed
Of sad Cocytus poole, which she did bring
In her blacke viall, on my haplesse head,
Whose banefull sauour borne on furie’s wing,
Did not alone infect th’anointed king:
But round diffus’d, as sent from peere to peere,
Did poyson those high bloods that present were.
13.
The ranke contagion of this foule disease
With rauing looke the mightiest in the state,