This text is part of:
There also stood before
Myne eyes the grim Pheocomes both man and horse who wore
A Lyons skinne uppon his backe fast knit with knotts afore.
He snatching up a timber log (which scarcely two good teeme
Of Oxen could have stird) did throwe the same with force extreeme
At Phonolenyes sonne. The logge him all in fitters strake,
And of his head the braynepan in a thousand peeces brake,
That at his mouth, his eares, and eyes, and at his nosethrills too,
His crusshed brayne came roping out as creame is woont to doo
From sives or riddles made of wood, or as a Cullace out
From streyner or from Colender. But as he went about
To strippe him from his harnesse as he lay uppon the ground,
(Your father knoweth this full well) my sword his gutts did wound,
Teleboas and Cthonius bothe, were also slaine by mee.
Sir Cthonius for his weapon had a forked bough of tree.
The tother had a dart. His dart did wound mee. You may see
The scarre therof remayning yit. Then was the tyme that I
Should sent have beene to conquer Troy. Then was the tyme that I
Myght through my force and prowesse, if not vanquish Hector stout,
Yit at the least have hilld him wag, I put you out of Dout.
But then was Hector no body: or but a babe. And now
Am I forspent and worne with yeeres. What should I tell you how
Piretus dyde by Periphas? Or wherefore should I make
Long processe for to tell you of sir Ampycus that strake
The fowrefoote Oecle on the face with dart of Cornell tree,
The which had neyther head nor poynt? Or how that Macaree
Of Mountaine Pelithronye with a leaver lent a blowe
To Erigdupus on the brest which did him overthrowe?
Full well I doo remember that Cymelius threw a dart
Which lyghted full in Nesseyes flank about his privie part.
And think not you that Mops, the sonne of Ampycus, could doo
No good but onely prophesye. This stout Odites whoo
Had bothe the shapes of man and horse, by Mopsis dart was slayne,
And labouring for to speake his last he did but strive in vayne.
For Mopsis dart togither nayld his toong and neather chappe,
And percing through his throte did make a wyde and deadly gappe.
Fyve men had Cene already slayne: theyr wounds I cannot say:
The names and nomber of them all ryght well I beare away.
The names of them were Stiphelus, and Brome, and Helimus,
Pyracmon with his forest bill, and stout Antimachus.
Out steppes the biggest Centawre there, huge Latreus, armed in
Alesus of Aemathias spoyle slayne late before by him.
His yeeres were mid tweene youth and age, his courage still was yoong,
And on his abrun head hore heares peerd heere and there amoong.
His furniture was then a swoord, a target and a lawnce
Aemathian like. To bothe the parts he did his face advaunce,
And brandishing his weapon brave, in circlewyse did prawnce
About, and stoutly spake theis woordes: And must I beare with yow,
Dame Cenye? for none other than a moother (I avow)
No better than a moother will I count thee whyle I live.
Remembrest not what shape by birth dame nature did thee give?
Forgettst thou how thou purchasedst this counterfetted shape
Of man? Consyderest what thou art by birth? and how for rape
Thou art become the thing thou art? Go take thy distaffe, and
Thy spindle, and in spinning yarne go exercyse thy hand.
Let men alone with feates of armes. As Latreus made this stout
And scornefull taunting in a ring still turning him about,
This Cenye with a dart did hit him full uppon the syde
Where as the horse and man were joyned togither in a hyde.
The strype made Latreus mad: and with his lawnce in rage he stracke
Uppon sir Cenyes naked ribbes. The lawnce rebounded backe
Like haylestones from a tyled house, or as a man should pat
Small stones uppon a dromslets head. He came more neere with that,
And in his brawned syde did stryve to thrust his swoord. There was
No way for swoord to enter in. Yit shalt thou not so passe
My handes (sayd he.) Well sith the poynt is blunted thou shalt dye
Uppon the edge: and with that woord he fetcht his blow awrye,
And sydling with a sweeping stroke along his belly smit.
The strype did give a clinke as if it had on marble hit.
And therewithall the swoord did breake, and on his necke did lyght.
When Ceny had sufficiently given Latreus leave to smyght
His flesh which was unmaymeable, Well now (quoth he) lets see,
If my swoord able bee or no to byght the flesh of thee.
In saying so, his dreadfull swoord as farre as it would go
He underneathe his shoulder thrust, and wrinching to and fro
Among his gutts, made wound in wound. Behold with hydeous crye
The dowblemembred Centawres sore abasht uppon him flye,
And throwe theyr weapons all at him. Theyr weapons downe did fall
As if they had rebated beene, and Cenye for them all
Abydes unstriken through. Yea none was able blood to drawe.
The straungenesse of the cace made all amazed that it sawe.
Fy, fy for shame (quoth Monychus) that such a rable can
Not overcome one wyght alone, who scarcely is a man.
Although (to say the very truthe) he is the man, and wee
Through fayntnesse that that he was borne by nature for to bee.
What profits theis huge limbes of ours? what helpes our dowble force?
Or what avayles our dowble shape of man as well as horse
By puissant nature joynd in one? I can not thinke that wee
Of sovereigne Goddesse Juno were begot, or that wee bee
Ixions sonnes, who was so stout of courage and so hault,
As that he durst on Junos love attempt to give assault.
The emny that dooth vanquish us is scarcely half a man
Whelme blocks, and stones, and mountaynes whole uppon his hard brayne pan:
And presse yee out his lively ghoste with trees. Let timber choke
His chappes, let weyght enforce his death in stead of wounding stroke.
This sayd: by chaunce he gets a tree blowne downe by blustring blasts
Of Southerne wynds, and on his fo with all his myght it casts,
And gave example to the rest to doo the like. Within
A whyle the shadowes which did hyde mount Pelion waxed thin:
And not a tree was left uppon mount Othris ere they went.
Sir Cenye underneathe this greate huge pyle of timber pent,
Did chauf and on his shoulders hard the heavy logges did beare.
But when above his face and head the trees up stacked were,
So that he had no venting place to drawe his breth: One whyle
He faynted: and another whyle he heaved at the pyle,
To tumble downe the loggs that lay so heavy on his backe,
And for to winne the open ayre ageine above the stacke:
As if the mountayne Ida (lo) which yoonder we doo see
So hygh, by earthquake at a tyme should chaunce to shaken bee.
Men dowt what did become of him. Sum hold opinion that
The burthen of the woodes had driven his soule to Limbo flat.
But Mopsus sayd it was not so. For he did see a browne
Bird flying from amid the stacke and towring up and downe.
It was the first tyme and the last that ever I behild
That fowle. When Mopsus softly saw him soring in the feeld,
He looked wistly after him, and cryed out on hye:
Hayle peerlesse perle of Lapith race, hayle Ceny, late ago
A valeant knyght, and now a bird of whom there is no mo.
The author caused men beleeve the matter to bee so.
Our sorrow set us in a rage. It was too us a greef
That by so many foes one knyght was killd without releef.
Then ceast wee not to wreake our teene till most was slaine in fyght,
And that the rest discomfited were fled away by nyght.
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