Viii

Ne shame he thought to shunne so hideous might: The idle stroke, enforcing furious way, Missing the marke of his misaymed sight Did fall to ground, and with his heavie sway So deepely dinted in the driven clay, That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw: The sad earth wounded with so sore assay, Did grone full grievous underneath the blow, And trembling with strange feare, did like an earthquake show.