So the disdaining angry toad, That calls but a thin useless load, His fatal feared self comes back With unknown venome fill'd to crack. Th' amased spider, now untwin'd, Hath crept up, and her self new lin'd With fresh salt foams and mists, that blast The ambient air as they past. And now me thinks a Sphynx's wing I pluck, and do not write, but sting; With their black blood my pale inks blent,<82.7> Gall's but a faint ingredient. The pol'tick toad doth now withdraw, Warn'd, higher in CAMPANIA.<82.8> There wisely doth, intrenched deep, His body in a body keep, And leaves a wide and open pass T' invite the foe up to his jaws, Which there within a foggy blind With fourscore fire-arms were lin'd. The gen'rous active spider doubts More ambuscadoes than redoubts; So within shot she doth pickear,<82.9> Now gall's the flank, and now the rear; As that<82.10> the toad in's own dispite Must change the manner of his fight, Who, like a glorious general, With one home-charge lets fly at all. Chaf'd with a fourfold ven'mous foam Of scorn, revenge, his foes and 's own, He seats him in his loathed chair, New-made him by each mornings air, With glowing eyes he doth survey Th' undaunted hoast he calls his prey; Then his dark spume he gred'ly laps, And shows the foe his grave, his chaps. Whilst the quick wary Amazon Of 'vantage takes occasion, And with her troop of leggs carreers In a full speed with all her speers. Down (as some mountain on a mouse) On her small cot he flings his house; Without the poyson of the elf, The toad had like t' have burst himself: For sage Arachne with good heed Had stopt herself upon full speed, And, 's body now disorder'd, on She falls to execution. The passive toad now only can Contemn and suffer. Here began The wronged maids ingenious rage, Which his heart venome must asswage. One eye she hath spet out, strange smother, When one flame doth put out another, And one eye wittily spar'd, that he Might but behold his miserie. She on each spot a wound doth print, And each speck hath a sting within't; Till he but one new blister is, And swells his own periphrasis. Then fainting, sick, and yellow-pale, She baths him with her sulph'rous stale; Thus slacked is her Stygian fire, And she vouchsafes now to retire. Anon the toad begins to pant, Bethinks him of th' almighty plant, And lest he peece-meal should be sped, Wisely doth finish himself dead. Whilst the gay girl, as was her fate, Doth wanton and luxuriate, And crowns her conqu'ring head all or With fatal leaves of hellebore. Not guessing at the pretious aid Was lent her by the heavenly maid. The neer expiring toad now rowls Himself in lazy bloody scrowls, To th' sov'raign salve of all his ills, That only life and health distills. But loe! a terror above all, That ever yet did him befall!