And that same tree*, in which Demophoon, By his disloyalty lamented sore, Eternall hurte left unto many one: Whom als accompanied the oke, of yore 204 Through fatall charmes transferred to such an one: The oke, whose acornes were our foode before That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne, Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sowne. [* I.e. the almond-tree.] Here also grew the rougher-rinded pine, The great Argoan ships brave ornament, 210 Whom golden fleece did make an heavenly signe; Which coveting, with his high tops extent, To make the mountaines touch the starres divine, Decks all the forrest with embellishment; And the blacke holme that loves the watrie vale; 215 And the sweete cypresse, signe of deadly bale. Emongst the rest the clambring yvie grew, Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold, Least that the poplar happely should rew Her brothers strokes, whose boughes she doth enfold 220 With her lythe twigs, till they the top survew, And paint with pallid greene her buds of gold. Next did the myrtle tree to her approach, Not yet unmindfull of her olde reproach. But the small birds in their wide boughs embowring 225 Chaunted their sundrie tunes with sweete consent; And under them a silver spring, forth powring His trickling streames, a gentle murmure sent; Thereto the frogs, bred in the slimie scowring Of the moist moores, their iarring voyces bent; 230 And shrill grashoppers chirped them around: All which the ayrie echo did resound. In this so pleasant place the shepheards flocke Lay everie where, their wearie limbs to rest, On everie bush, and everie hollow rocke, 235 Where breathe on them the whistling wind mote best; The whiles the shepheard self, tending his stocke, Sate by the fountaine side, in shade to rest, Where gentle slumbring sleep oppressed him Displaid on ground, and seized everie lim. 240 Of trecherie or traines nought tooke he keep, But, looslie on the grassie greene dispredd, His dearest life did trust to careles sleep; Which, weighing down his drouping drowsie hedd, In quiet rest his molten heart did steep, 245 Devoid of care, and feare of all falshedd: Had not inconstant Fortune, bent to ill, Bid strange mischance his quietnes to spill. For at his wonted time in that same place An huge great Serpent, all with speckles pide, 250 To drench himselfe in moorish slime did trace, There from the boyling heate himselfe to hide: He, passing by with rolling wreathed pace, With brandisht tongue the emptie aire did gride*, And wrapt his scalie boughts** with fell despight, 255 That all things seem’d appalled at his sight. [* _Gride_, pierce] [** _Boughts_, knots]