His cruell stepdame seeing what was donne, xxxix Her wicked dayes with wretched knife did end, In death auowing th’innocence of her sonne. Which hearing his rash Syre, began to rend His haire, and hastie tongue, that did offend: Tho gathering vp the relicks[196] of his smart By _Dianes_ meanes, who was _Hippolyts_ frend, Them brought to _Æsculape_, that by his art Did heale them all againe, and ioyned euery part. Such wondrous science in mans wit to raine xl When _Ioue_ auizd, that could the dead reuiue, And fates expired could renew againe, Of endlesse life he might him not depriue, But vnto hell did thrust him downe aliue, With flashing thunderbolt ywounded sore: Where long remaining, he did alwaies striue Himselfe with salues to health for to restore, And slake the heauenly fire[197], that raged euermore. There auncient Night arriuing, did alight xli From her nigh[198] wearie waine, and in her armes To _Æsculapius_ brought the wounded knight: Whom hauing softly disarayd of armes, Tho gan to him discouer all his harmes, Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise, If either salues, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes A fordonne wight from dore of death mote raise, He would at her request prolong her nephews daies. Ah Dame (quoth he) thou temptest me in vaine, xlii To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew, And the old cause of my continued paine With like attempt to like end to renew. Is not enough, that thrust from heauen dew Here endlesse penance for one fault I pay, But that redoubled crime with vengeance new Thou biddest me to eeke? Can Night defray The wrath of thundring _Ioue_, that rules both night and day? Not so (quoth she) but sith that heauens king xliii From hope of heauen hath thee excluded quight, Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing, And fearest not, that more thee hurten might, Now in the powre of euerlasting Night? Goe to then, O thou farre renowmed[199] sonne Of great _Apollo_, shew thy famous might In medicine, that else hath to thee wonne Great paines, and greater praise, both neuer to be donne. Her words preuaild: And then the learned leach xliv His cunning hand gan to his wounds[200] to lay, And all things else, the which his art did teach: Which hauing seene, from thence arose away The mother of dread darknesse, and let stay _Aueugles_ sonne there in the leaches cure, And backe returning tooke her wonted way, To runne her timely race, whilst _Phœbus_ pure In westerne waues his wearie wagon did recure.