Βατραχομυομαχία: OR: THE WONDERFUL and bloody Battle between Frogs and Mice.  
The occasion of their falling out: Their Preparation, Munition, and resolution for the wars: The several combats of every person of worth, with many other memorable accidents.  
Interlaced with diverse pithy and moral sentences, no less pleasant to be read, then profitable to be observed.  
Paraphrastically done into English Heroical verse, by William Fowldes, late one of the Cursitors of his Majesty's high Court of Chancery.  
LONDON: Printed by T. H. for Laurence Chapman, and are to be sold at his shop in Holborn, at Chancery Lane end, 1634.   

Perlege Maeonio cantatas carmine Ranas,  
Et frontem nugis solvere disce meis.  Martialis in Xenia, 183.  

To the virtuous, courteous, and worshipful Gentleman, Master Robert Greenwood of Westerton, health, with the happiness of both worlds.  

Such loving favours from your son I found,  
So kind affection at your Worship's hand,  
Though undeserved, that I still am bound,  
And unto you and yours obliged stand:   

And though that green branch, which ay-springing stood,  
As chiefest crown or garland to your wood,  
Be by the stroke of Fate quite cut away,  
ne'er shall a thankless nature in me sway.   

No lofty Cedar, though in height he pass  
Each several plant which desert forests yield;  
No Laurel, though Apollo's tree it was;  
No Pine for ships, no Oak ordained to build,  
Nor any shrub was half so dear to me,  
As was that branch fall'n from the Greenwoods' tree:  
Which though, as dead, entombed in earth it lies,  
A day will come, we hope to see it rise.   

Here (worthy Sir) do I present to you  
The timely Buds of my frostbitten Spring,  
And though this trifle not deserve your view,  
Yet such a trifle once did Homer sing,  
Adorned with robes, spun from the wool of Greece,  
Homely by me now clad in English fleece:  
Albeit no pleasure in this toy you take,  
Yet deign a kind aspect for Hargreves sake,   
The unworthy well-willer of your Worship's welfare, WILLIAM FOWLDES.   

To the Reader in general.  
HAving of late, for mine own exercise at vacant hours, consummated the translation of this little Book, I now boldly adventure to commit it to the Press, being the rather induced thereunto by the encouragement of certain of mine acquaintance: not that I seek hereby to win praise, or publish this for any devotion in print, since I am verily persuaded, it deserves not the least title of commendation: and I hold it as a maxim with Lylie, that he which cometh in print, because he would be known, is like the fool that goeth into the market, because he would be seen. Only I hope, that this my simple labour will be a spur to the riper wits of our time, that the golden works of this & other famous Poets, may not still lie hidden, as under a veil or mystery, from the weak capacity of meaner judgements. Concerning my translation, as I cannot altogether commend it: for quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus: so neither will I wholly discommend it; in the one I might seem arrogant; in the other be accounted foolish: and therefore puto rectius esse, ut sint mediocria omnia. If one writ never so well, he shall not please all; if never so ill, he shall please some: a dog will bark, though he lack his teeth; and a dolt will censure, though he want judgement. I know to some curious heads it will be thought amiss, that every verse answers not their expectation, because I have not word for word concurd with the Author in my translation: yet if they will but look a little into the difficulty of this thing, considering the kind of verse which I have used, I hope they will rest satisfied. I only will answer them out of Hor. Non verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus interpres. And furthermore (besides the diversity between a construction and a translation) they may know, that there are many mysteries in this writer, which uttered in English, would show little pleasure, and in mine opinion, are better to be untouched, then to diminish the grace of the rest with tediousness and obscurity: I have therefore followed the counsel of the aforesaid Horace, teaching the duty of a good Jnterpreter, qui, quae desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit. By which occasion, some few sentences I have in places omitted, somewhat added, somewhat altered, and somewhat expounded: that which I have added, you shall find noted with this mark * The significations of the names (being indeed no names, but only words correspondent to the nature of Frogs and Mice) ne quis in ijs haereat, lest any should therewith be troubled, I have englished and inserted them in the verse, that the inferior Readers should not be wearied with looking in the margin: as for the learned, they need not be instructed. I mean not to be a prejudice to any that can do finer; only I would desire them to be are with this my simple labour, and to accept it as a thing roughly begun, rather than polished. And if any with this will not be contented, let him take in hand, and do it anew himself, and I doubt not, but he shall find it an easier thing to control a line or two, then to amend the whole of this interpretation. Farewell.  
W. F.   

In commendation of Poetry.  

AMong the diverse currents that do flow  
Fron th'ever springing fountain of all art,  
The perled Nectar most content doth show  
Which Poetry full sweetly doth impart,  
Whose honeyed vapour comforteth the heart,  
And under veiled fancies that doth sing,  
Which doth much profit with great pleasure bring   

For certs the truth (though truth no colours need  
To men of understanding and ripe years)  
When she is masked in a seemly weed,  
More fair, more sweet, and beautiful appears,  
Her tale contents the mind, and glads the ears  
And makes men more attentive to her story,  
That truth may still prevail with greater glory.   

For as an Image drawn in white and black,  
Though it be well proportioned with care,  
If it do other comely colours lack,  
To beautify the members, head, and hair,  
Unto the eye appears not half so fair;  
Nor with so much content doth fill the mind,  
As that portrayed with colours in his kind:   

Even so a naked story simply told,  
Though cause be true and worthy due regard,  
Doth not men's hearts with such affection hold,  
Nor hath the outward senses so in guard,  
As doth that matter which is well declared,  
Adorned pleasantly with terms and art,  
Which piercing through the ears, doth move the heart.   

This knew the learned Poets all of yore,  
This knew th'immortal Sages long agone,  
Whose works the wisest of our age adore,  
Such store of wisdom in their books is shone,  
Such pleasure unto all, offence to none,  
Such grave precepts hid under fine device,  
As ears and heart with wonderment surprise.   

No fable sweet Philosophy contains,  
Within the sacred volumes of her cell,  
Dipped in the fount, which from 
* A hill consecrate to the Muses.  Parnassus' strains,  
Whereas the thrice three Nymphs are said to dwell,  
That barbarism and ignorance expel:  
But under veil deep secrets doth unfold,  
Though but a tale by wanton Ovid told.   

By wanton Ovid? heavenly Poesy,  
Parden the rashness of my infant Muse,  
That I, a client to thy mystery,  
Should unadvisedly by that word abuse,  
And term him wanton, did no folly use:  
For though his Muse was wanton, as he plained,  
Yet Ovid's life was chaste, and never stained.   

Nor sung he always in a wanton lay,  
And penned pleasing ditties of blind fire:  
Of deeper matters much could Ovid say,  
As he whose soaring spirit mounted higher,  
Than ever Poet after could aspire.  
And save the famous Homer chief of all,  

* Semper Virgilium excipio.  The Prince of Poets may we Ovid call.   

But neither Homer, Ovid, nor the rest,  
That ever tasted 
* A fountain of the Muses.  Aganippe's spring,  
Though but to write of fables they addressed,  
Which to th'unskilful no contentment bring,  
But with such art and knowledge did them sing,  
That in their volumes scarce appears one line,  
Which to the learned doth not seem divine.   

No vice of youth, no villainy of age,  
No lewd behaviour of each degree,  
But in the secret mysteries of the sage  
And grave instructions of philosophy,  
Clad in the habit of sweet Poesy,  
Is aptly couched in some pretty fable,  
As well the learned to discuss are able.   

And not alone are vices set to view,  
And horrid plagues attending wickedness:  
But blessed virtue with the heavenly crew,  
Which ever wait upon her worthiness,  
By them are portrayed forth with comeliness:  
The meanest fable Poet e'er did make,  
May stand as mirror for example sake.   

For proof whereof, read but this little book  
With understanding, knowledge, care and skill,  
And thou shalt find presented to thy look,  
Such wit and learning from the Author's quill,  
Which under fine inventions meet thee still;  
So pleasant objects that occur thine 
* The eyes of thy mind.  eyes,  
As will thy soul with wonderment surprise.   

And not alone shall pleasure thee await,  
As thou perusest what I now present;  
Here thou shalt have fit matter for each state,  
If thou consider what hereby is meant.  
Then think thy time herein not idly spent.  
Ponder with judgement what thou readest at leisure,  
So may thy profit equalise thy pleasure.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: OR, The Battle between Frogs and Mice.  

YE thrice three daughters of immortal jove,  
Boeotian nymphs of Helicons sweet spring,  
Bright lamps of honour shining from above,  
Where still ye sit secure from envies sting,  
Guiding the stern of learning's sacred lore,  
Vouchsafe to guide my pen, I you implore;  
Your sweet consent conform my tender breast,  
While I adorn my verse, as likes you best.   

Deign from your pleasant fountains of delight,  
And ever-running Rivers of true skill,  
Now to infuse sweet drops into my spirit,  
And heavenly Nectar on my plants distil:  
That they may grow like Bay, which ever springs,  
To bud the battles of two mighty Kings,  
And all the world may know how strife did rise,  
Between renowned Frogs and gallant Mice.   

The antique deeds which wanton Ovid told,  
To be performed by Giants long agone,  
When mighty hills together they enrolled,  
Thinking to pull the Thunder from his throne,  
Compared to these battles cannot be,  
" No more than brambles to the Cedar tree,  
" Whos's lofty top dare check the heaven's fair eye,  
" When at midday he sits in majesty.   

In these approved soldiers of stern Mars,  
Manhood, or Mars himself, may seem to dwell:  
For with such valour they endured the wars,  
That horrid death their courage could not quell.  
Stout resolution in their foreheads stood,  
Fight like valiant hearts amid their blood.  
And this, alas, did cause the mortal strife,  
Whereby so many gallants lost their life.   

The Kings own son, a Mouse of royal state,  
Next heir by birth apparent to the Crown,  
Toiled with travel, flying from the Cat,  
Unto a pleasant brook to drink came down,  
Where couching low his body on the bank,  
With great delight, cold water there he drank.  
" For though that gorged stomaches loath strong drink,  
" Thirst makes the King cold water wine to think.   

But while the gentle and debonaire Mouse,  
Bathed his lips within the channel clear,  
Quaffing most neatly many a sweet carouse,  
Along the gliding current did appear  

* This was the King of Frogs.  A gallant Frog, whose port and mounting pace,  
Showed him to be chief ruler in that place.  
" For as quick sparks disclose the fire to be,  
So doth man's gesture show his majesty.   

From forth the river, like to liquid glass,  
The Frog ascends upon the water's brim,  
And seeing where the Mouse lay on the grass,  
With nimble joints he leapeth towards him;  
And bending down his fair and yellow breast,  
With kind salutes he welcomes this new guest,  
Beseeming well a King's high dignity:  
And thus he spoke with solemn majesty:   

Since that thou art a stranger, gentle Mouse,  
From whom dost thou derive thy pedigree?  
Declare to me thy parents and the house,  
Which have conceived such a progeny,  
That, if thy worth deserve, with greater sway,  
Unto my palace thee I might convey:  
Where I with kingly presents will thee grace,  
As shall befit thy virtues, and my place.   

And doubt not but we can confirm our word:  
For know it's spoken by a mighty King,  
The only Monarch of this running ford,  
Which all the Frogs to my subjection bring.  
My promise to perform, I want no store,  
My kingdom stretcheth out from shore to shore.  
" Scarce he deserves the title of a king,  
" That wanteth means t'accomplish any thing.   

By birth I am a King, borne to the Crown,  
And hold by right my rushy chair of state,  
Peleus my dirty Sire, great in renown,  
Of Queen Hydromedusa me begat.  
She at the flood of Padus did me bear,  
Whose head and cheeks did put her in great fear.  
And that my name and person might agree,  
Blowne-cheekt Physignathus she cleped me.   

But since that valour in thy looks doth dwell,  
And Mars hath his abiding in thy face:  
I think thy birth doth common Mice excel,  
And thee descended from a higher place.  
" For majesty attends upon estate,  
" It cannot masked be, nor change his gate.  
Thy Lordly looks, thy royal birth proclaim;  
Tell me thy country, kindred, and thy name.   

The Mouse arising from the river's brim,  
Hearing the Frog speak with such Majesty,  
With haughty courage resaluteth him,  
And thus replies with great audacity:  

* A bold answer to a King.  Wherefore desirest thou to know our birth,  
Famous to gods above, and men on earth?  
" The greatest Kesar, and the country swain,  
" Of our exploits and stratagems complain.   

I am the Prince 
* Prince Eat crumb.  Psicharpax, which in field  
Dare meet a thousand crumbs within the face,  
All them encounter without spear or shield,  
And bravely eat them up in little space,  
Borne of Troxarta that redoubted king,  
Of whose heroic acts the world doth ring;  
Both rich and poor my valiant father dread,  
With so great courage he devours their bread.  
* King Eat bread.   

Lick-meale Lichomile, a royal Mouse,  
My fair Queen-mother me conceived hereby,  
Under a pile of wood, behind a house:  
(For at the present there the 
* The Court then lay at Woodstacke.  Court did lie)  
Where like the child of jove, within her lap,  
I sucked sweet Nectar from her down-soft pap,  
Neatly she fed me in my younger years  
With milk, chees-curds, nuts, apples, figs & pears.   

In vain you wish our honour should descend  
(Because our birth is of no small regard)  
To taste the pleasures that your palace lend,  
With store of juncats and delights prepared:  
" For they whose lives and natures disagree,  
" Do hardly brook to join in company:  
" Like will to like, those birds consort together,  
" Whose wings are like in colour, and of feather.   

You simple Frogs live in the running main,  
In brooks, in ditches, and the watery Fen.  
Upon the dry land we brave Mice remain,  
Where we enjoy the company of men:  
We feed upon their dainties at our ease,  
Eat up their bread and victuals when we please;  
We pass not for their locks, nor strength of place,  
" Both locks and strength doth policy deface.   

Yet though when hunger moves an appetite,  
We sometimes skirmish with the Kitchens store,  
And here and there a little morsel bite,  
And where we find it fatter, eat the more:  
For I have heard my father 
* A good Axiom.  say of old,  
Which as a maxim we Mice do hold,  
Fetter the better (sure 'tis worth repeating)  
A fat sweet modicum deserves the eating.   

And though sometimes (too seldom I confess)  
We light upon a Capon by the way,  
Or fortune with a Rabbit doth us bless,  
Which is a dainty morsel at this day;  
Or other pretty juncate which we find,  
And eat some part according to our kind:  
Yet are we not so greedy, as some say,  
Which blame brave Mice, yet take the meat away.   

For oft the greedy alldevouring Cat,  
Which would be thought a safeguard to the meat,  
Doth under colour of her inward hate,  
That aye between us two is wondrous great,  
Forage the cupboards, kitchen, and the house,  
Pretending hatred to the harmless Mouse:  
But certs let all beware of this device,  
" One greedy 
* Too many of these Cats.  Cat is worse than many Mice.   

Oft, when a Pigeon, or some dainty bit,  
Chief for master or the mistress dressed;  
If any parcel be reserved of it,  
To close their stomach at another feast,  
No sooner comes the morsel from the hall,  
But servants take a part, or eat it all;  
And when enquiry for this thing is made,  
Still on the guiltless Mouse the fault is laid.   

Surely I grant, it grieves me to the heart,  
To bear these slanders and incessant wrong,  
Which still they lay unto the Mouces part,  
By their false lying and deceitful tongue,  
But in my spirit I scorn the vain surmises  
Which every cogging mate by craft devises;  
Yet smile to see the mistress of the house,  
Upon her servants shoulders beat the Mouse.   

Nethlesse they cannot say but we will take  
A dire revenge upon them for the lie;  
And since no conscience in a lie they make,  
Their lie shall prove a truth, or we will dye:  
For not a hole or corner shall be free,  
Where any scraps or broken meat we see;  
But whatsoever we find, without delay  
we'll quickly eat it up, or bear away.   

And yet think not (Sir Frog) we gallants live  
Upon the refuse scraps or broken meat;  
Or feed on fragments which foul trenchers give,  
When greasy scullions make them clean and neat,  
Fare be it from a lordly Mouces' tooth,  
To taste the trash that every Peasant doth;  
Well knows a discreet Mouse to choose the best,  
Though he for anger often eat the rest.   

Nor are we so faint-hearted, if we chance  
To meet a Pie or Pastry by the way,  
Which like a Castle doth herself advance,  
Scorning the battery of our brave array;  
But straight courageously her walls we scale,  
Or undermine them for to make her quail:  
If valour will not bring our wish to pass,  
Our teeth shall pierce her crust as hard as brass.   

Sweet cakes, fat puddings, curds, cream, are our meat,  
With bacon-flitches hanging in the house,  
Delicious hony-sops which gods do eat,  
Are victuals only for the gallant Mouse.  
No pleasant juncates, no tooth-tempting fare,  
Which huswives lock up with no slender care,  

* Yet oft more bold than welcome.  Yea, no delights the kitchen doth contain,  
But in the danger of our teeth remain.   

Pale fear of death could never make me fly,  
Nor safeguard of my life to leave the fight.  
" True valour will with honour rather dye,  
" Then like a coward live and take his flight.  
But like a Soldier stout, and Captain bold,  
Still in the for most rank my place I hold,  
Where I enact such wonders with my blade,  
That troops I send to death and dusky shade.  
* Et coelum territat armis.   

The might of burly man I do not dread,  
Though other creatures live within his fear:  
Oft dare I bite his hand, and scratch his head,  
When he the silent night in sleep doth wear.  

* Casibus insultas quos potes ipse pati.  Iscorne his gins and his alluring bait,  
Set to entrap us closely by deceit:  
Yet if therein the basest Mouse do fall,  
In our revenge his meat shall pay for all.   

Only the Owl I dread, and eye-bright Cat,  
Two cursed murderers in the dismal night,  
Whose monstrous jaws spare neither Mouse nor Rat,  
But quick devour us without law or right:  
Yet chief of the Cat I stand in fear,  
Whose puling voice I never love to hear;  
A hellbred Harpy, ranging round about,  
Watching our coming in and going out.   


* Satietas nauseam parit.  I tell thee Frog, I loath to live on weeds,  
Roots, coleworts, garlic, or the foolish beet,  
Or stinking mushrooms, growing with the reeds:  
Such vulgar diet for base Frogs is meet:  
Meat fit for Frogs which haunt the watery Fen,  
Not for the gallant Mouse that feeds with men.  
And here abruptly ending in disdain,  
Thus smilingly the Frog replied again:   

Stoutly thou brag'st upon thy costly cheer,  
Thy dainty dishes and thy kingly fare;  
Much honour to thy belly thou dost bear,  
Vaunting what pleasures fall unto thy share,  
And what a warlike heart in thee doth dwell,  
Which pale-faced fear of death could never quell:  
" But reason shows by daily practice found,  
" That empty vessels yield the greatest sound.   

And yet seem not to scorn our rushy chair,  
Because your belly-pleasures do abound:  
With our delights no solace may compare,  
That can among poor starved Mice be found.  
Upon the land we dance and sport our fill,  
In water bathe our limbs (so Jove doth will)  

* Nulla aconita bibuntur fictilibus.  Our cates are consonant unto our state,  
Not mixed with poison or deceitful bait.   

And if the knowledge of the truth did move,  
Or breed in thee a liking and delight,  
Like to the radiant son of mighty Jove,  
When riding in his Car he gives us light,  
I to my palace will thee safely bring,  
Sitting upon the shoulders of a king:  

* Credito, credenti nulla procella nocet.  Leap on my neck, fear not the running maine,  
I bear thee hence, I bring thee back again.   

He had no sooner said, but bending down  
His back;" though rare it is to see King's bow;  
The lieger Mouse, lighter than thistle down,  
And swift as wind, which from the East doth blow,  
Upon his shoulders nimbly leaps in haste,  
And vaulting to his neck, doth there hold fast,  
Proud of his stately Porter, as he might:  
" For whom Kings bear, they may be proud by right.   

Boldly the Frog doth launch out from the brim,  
Into the current of the water clear:  
The Mouse rejoicing for to see him swim,  
Upon his back like 
* Neptune the god of the Sea.  Neptune doth appear,  
When mounted on a Dolphin in his pride,  
Upon the tossing billows he doth ride:  
Or like the Sun, clad in his morning weeds,  
Drawn in his fiery waggon by his Steeds:   


* Maior sum quam cui possit fortuna noscere.  With so great port and prinely majesty  
The little Mouse upon the Frog did stand,  
Proudly triumphing while the shore was nigh,  
And that he could at pleasure skip to land.  
Such great delights in water he did see,  
Wellnear he could desire a Frog to be.  
" But as no state can stable stand for aye:  
" So every pleasure hath his ending day.   

For when he saw the surging billows rise,  
And on a sudden fall as low as hell,  
Such store of tears did trickle from his eyes,  
That their abundance made the water swell.  
And now the waves bedash him more and more,  
Tossing his corpses amid their watery store,  
With grief he wrings his hands, & tears his skin:  
Such woeful plight, pale fear had put him in.   


* Galeatum sero duelli poenitet.  Now doth he wish, though wishes take no place,  
That on firm land he were arrived again;  
He curseth Neptune, and his trident Mace,  
The troubled waters and the running maine:  
Now, but too late (alas) doth he repent  
His foolish rashness, cause of this event.  
" But after-wits like a shower of rain,  
" That falls untimely on the ripened grain.   

His feet unto his belly he doth shrink,  
And on the Frog his back doth closely sit,  
Using his nimble tail when he did sink,  
In stead of oar." Pale fear did learn him wit.  
The flowing billows mount above his head,  
Speechless for sorrow, and for grief half dead:  
" Yet death is not so bitter as cold fear,  
" Which makes things greater than they are, appear.   


* Heu quid agate?  Sorrow triumpheth in the Mouse his breast,  
Despair doth sit as Marshal in his mind,  
Danger and death on every side are pressed,  
Still to receive him at each puff of wind:  
" But danger can the heart of pride ne'er break;  
" When fear hath stayed the tongue, yet pride wilspeak  
" And though the waters wash the outward skin,  
" They cannot wash presumption within.   

For thus he sighing said, The gentle 
* jupiter when he stole away Europa.  Bull  
Which Ovid doth applaud for knavery,  
Did not convey to Crete his pretty trull  
Upon his neck with so great bravery,  
As King of Frogs doth bear the gallant Mouse  
To see the pomp and pleasure of his house,  
Plunging his limbs amid the water clear,  
Such confidence to swimming he doth bear.   

He this no sooner said, but sudden fear  
Did stop the passage of his further prate:  
For lo, a water- Serpent did appear,  
A hellish torment to the Frogs estate,  
Which cutting through the running stream that way,  
Winding himself to find some floating prey,  
The Frog espied:" What cannot fear descry,  
" Which joined with care, prevents sad destiny?   

For he no sooner did the Snake behold,  
Gaping like 
* Cerberus is said to have three heads, and to be porter of hell.  Cerberus threeheaded dog,  
Ruffling his scaly neck which shone like gold,  
But into water dives the wily Frog.  
Leaving the Mouse his friend, in sad lament,  
Set forth to danger, death, and dire event:  
" For he which makes a friend of every stranger,  
" Discards him not again without some danger.   

The silly Mouse distressed and forlorn,  
Left to the mercy of the running main,  
Unto the bottom headlong down is borne,  
Where he, poor soul, in secret doth complain,  
Plunging with hands aloft now doth he fleet,  
Then sinking down again he strikes with feet:  
" But when grim destiny doth once assail,  
" No might, no shift, no force can then prevail.   

When therefore to approach he knew his death,  
And that his wet hairs furthered his woe,  
Fate still attendant for to stop his breath,  
And death at hand to work his overthrow,  
Weeping for sorrow, void of all relief,  
Thus with himself he sighed to ease his grief:  

* Est quaedam flere voluptas. " For tears and sighs, sad orators of smart,  
" Though they release not, yet they ease the heart.   

Perfidious Frog, procurer of my wrack,  
Accursed Traitor to my father's Crown,  
Think not though vengeance for a time be slack,  
That thundering jove to whom all things are known,  
Will be forgetful of thy treachery,  
Through whose deceit I die in misery,  
Which from thy back, as off a rock I stood,  
Hast thrown me, perjured wretch, amid the flood.   

Well thou perceiv'dst my valour and my might,  
My worth, my courage, and agility,  
Which like a dastard and faint-hearted wight,  
At unawares hast wrought my tragedy.  
By craft I die in water, though on land  
Thou durst not once attempt it with thy hand:  
But God, whose dwelling is the stars among,  
He knows thy craft, & will revenge my wrong.   


* Jnterdum lachrymae pondera vocis habent.  The Mice, brave Mice, stern soldiers of stout Mars,  
In troops shall march against thy damned crew,  
And shall pursue thee with such bloody wars,  
That Frogs unborn yet shall have cause to rue.  
Such baleful stratagems that day shall be,  
As never cursed traitorous Frog did see:  
" For ne'er shall murder unrevenged boast,  
And with those words he yielded up the ghost.   

Lichopinax Lick-trencher, of great blood,  
Sitting upon the grassy waters side,  
Saw when the Mouse was drowned in the flood:  
" For murder by some chance will be espied;  
And greatly weeping for the Prince's fall,  
Amain he posteth to the King's neat hall;  
Where, to his Grace sitting with Lords of state,  
He tells with grief his son's unhappy fate.   

When as his Majesty this news did hear,  
Sadly he took the Prince's overthrow,  
Down from his throne he fell with heavy cheer,  
And swooned in the place for grief and woe.  
His Nobles take him up without delay,  
And on a royal pallet do him lay,  
Where he for sorrow sick was like to dye:  
" For children's hurt near father's heart doth lie.   

But all the Lords, though they were mal-content,  
Grieved for his death, which was their King's sole care,  
Yet like fell Lions unto anger bend,  
A black revenge within their minds they swore.  
With comfortable words they cheer their King,  
Which somewhat did abate his sorrowing.  

* Minuit vindicta dolorem.  Hope of revenge did so his stomach prick,  
Now he is strong again, which erst was sick.   

His messengers dispatched are apace,  
To all the hungry corners in his land,  
Commanding all his subjects in short space,  
At Court before his Majesty to stand,  
To learn his pleasure for his woeful son,  
Whom the proud king of Frogs to death had done.  
Whose corpse lie buried in the rolling wave,  
Wanting a royal Hearse as Princes have.   


* The dutifulness of the Mice.  The time no sooner came, when every Mouse  
Of any office, calling or degree,  
In his own person at the kings great House,  
Before his Majesty should present be:  
But all the Lords, knights, squires, & gentle Mice  
Resort to Court before the sun did rise,  
The basest Mouse that had a tail behind,  
Posted apace to know his Grace's mind.   

Within the Court assembled were the States,  
And each one seated in his due degree,  
The Commons stayed at the Palace gates,  
Yet where they might the King both hear and see.  
Then presently his Majesty came down,  
Clad like a mourner in a murry gown,  
And from his throne, though grief had made him weak,  
Yet angry for his son, thus did he speak:   


* The Oration of the King of Mice.  Stout Peers, brave Nobles, and my Captains tall,  
And you kind subjects to your loving King,  
Though to my part these mischiefs only fall,  
Which from my dreary eyes sad tears do bring:  
Yet to you all this damage doth belong,  
" For King's mishap to subjects is a wrong.  
I like a father, you like friends complain,  
Since cursed Frogs, my son, your Prince have slain.   

" 
* Tenet auratum limen erinys.  Great are the cares attend upon a throne,  
" And most misfortunes sit in Caesar's lap:  
Then who so wretched as poor I alone,  
Predestinate to nothing but mishap?  
Once happy in three children borne to me,  
As pretty Mice as ever man did see.  
But Fortune glad to triumph in my woe,  
Hath brought my sorrow with their overthrow.   

For first, the eldest scarce was two months old,  
When playing like a wanton up and down,  
A grisly Cat the young Mouse did behold,  
And quickly caught him by the tender crown.  
Between whose cruel jaws my son did die,  
Without remorse devoured traitorously.  
A Stygian Butcher, known unto you all,  
Whose teeth asunder tear both great and small.   

My son next him, a little noble Mouse,  
Too venturous for to live (O grief to tell!)  
Hunting for food within a Farmer's house,  

* Fraud perit virtus.  Into an engine made of wood he fell,  
Invented by man's art and policy,  
To crush and murder all our Progeny:  
There (loving Subjects) died my second child,  
With rigour massacred, with craft beguiled.   

And now my third, my last beloved son,  
But best beloved son of all the three,  
With whom my joys do end, my life is done,  
Most dear to his Queen-mother and to me;  
In whom decays the issue of my blood,  

* Hinc illae lachrymae.  Ay me, lies buried in the raging flood,  
Betrayed and drowned by the Frogs fell King,  
To whom my sword sad elegies shall sing.   

Then quickly arm yourselves, to arms, he cries,  
Fight for your King and Country without fear,  
Pursue the Frogs your cursed enemies,  
And guard yourselves with helmet, shield and spear;  
With courage show your valour and your might,  
The day is ours: for jove still aids the right:  
Brave Lords, kind subjects, fight courageously,  
God and Saint 
* She is holden patroness over Mice.  Gertrude grant us victory.   

The King in anger here did make an end,  
And presently dismissed all the crew,  
Which all their study and endeavours bend,  
That black revenge and battle might ensue.  
The King's sad words did stir them up so fare,  
That nought they talk of now but bloody war.  
And every Mouse from greatest to the least,  
Prepares such weapons as will fit them best.   


* The arms and weapons of the Mice.  And first, for legs, these never daunted Mice,  
Warlike habiliments in haste provide,  
Guarded with husks of pease (O rare device!)  
As though with boots or start-ups they would ride:  
" Whose policy if this our age would try,  
" So many maimed soldiers should not die:  
" For they which lose their legs, do lack their might  
" Nor can they fly, nor stoutly stand to fight.   

Next with a corslet they defend the heart,  
Not made of steel, but of an old straw-hat,  
With which before they did award that part,  
Against the forces of the greedy Cat:  
A piece of leather on their back they done,  
Which serves in stead of an habergion:  
The bottom of a candlestick doth stand  
For target or a buckler in their hand.   


* Gerimus quae possumus arma.  Small brazen pins they brandish like a spear,  
And toss their needles like strong pikes about;  
A walnut shell for helmet they do bear,  
After that they had eat the kernel out.  
And thus they march to fight that bloody fray,  
Vaunting in armour and their proud array:  
" For weapons unto force fresh courage bring,  
" A Mouse in arms doth think himself a king.   


* Res animos incognita turbat.  But when the trump of iron-winged Fame  
Had sounded to the Frogs this bad report,  
Out of the water in great troops they came,  
And on the shore together do resort,  
There to determine what the cause should be,  
Of these strange wars and sudden mutiny:  
Their dread increaseth by each brute they hear:  
" For fear of unknown things breed greater fear   

Whiles thus they stand perplexed and afraid,  

* Herald Eate-cheese.  A Herald bold of Arms they might descry,  
Eat-cheese Tyroglyphus, which not dismayed,  
Dare stoutly to their face the Frogs defy,  
Whom noble Embasichytros begot,  
That slily creepeth into every pot.  
He bearing in his hand a regal mace,  
Thus to the Frogs did speak in great disgrace:   

To you disloyal Frogs that hunt for blood,  
And to your King that wrought our Prince's fall,  
Drowning his body in the raging flood,  
Whose death to heaven doth for vengeance call.  
To you I come, sad messenger of woe,  
From angry Mice, which wish your overthrow:  
And here, in all their names, and from our King,  
A flat defiance to base Frogs I bring.   


* Ingentes parturit ira minas.  Wars, hostile wars, accursed traitorous Frogs,  
Here I denounce, and spit within your face,  
Damned deceitful wretches from your bogs  
We will abolish your detested race:  
Then arm yourselves, for vengeance we will take  
Upon all Frogs for our brave princes sake.  
If courage in your craven hearts doth dwell,  
Meet us in open field: and so farewell.   

When he had said these words, as in disdain,  
Scorning an answer from the Frogs to bear,  
Forthwith he posted to the Mice again,  
Whose message put the Frogs in mighty fear:  
" Yet fear breeds wrath, wrath kindles courage more.  
That now winds rage which erst were calm before.  
The King then rising from his chair of state,  
Gravely their valours thus did animate:   


* The Oration of the King of Frogs.  Lords, Nobles, gallant Frogs, and all the Train  
Which here attend to know our royal will,  
Subjects, nay more than Subjects in our reign,  
For we are fellows and compartners still:  
Vex not your minds," all clouds do bear no rain,  
" Nor in proud brags true valour doth remain.  
These are but words, fit bugs to scare the crows:  
" And cowards brags do seldom end with blows.   

" But if their meaning with their words agree,  
" Then do they seek to undermine our Crown,  
A forged quarrel they impose on me,  
That I a proud audacious Mouse should drown:  
And under this false colour they devise,  
To cloak the treasons of their enterprise.  
" Each fool can find a staff to beat a dog.  
" He must have both his eyes that blinds a Frog.   

Heaven and earth to witness I do call,  
And all the golden Planets of the sky,  
That I attempted not the Mouces fall,  
Nor once remember I did see him die:  
But this I think, that, playing on the brim,  
Seeing the gallant Frogs so bravely swim,  
He thought to do the like, and leapt in,  
Where he was justly plagued for his sin.   

And now these lurking creatures, hungry Mice,  
Which scarce dare show their faces in the light,  
A crew of greedy vermin, which devise  
Nothing but stealth and rapine in the night:  
These do unjustly charge me with his death,  
Because within our reign he lost his breath:  
But I will teach these proud audacious fools,  
Not jest with kings, nor meddle with edge-tools.   

Then friends, kind friends, & fellows to your king,  
Pluck up your spirits, banish slavish fears;  
For in this war, whence terror seems to spring,  
Me thinks great joy and comfort still appears,  
Since gallant Frogs, whom nothing terrifies,  
Fight with a starved troop of hungry Mice.  
Courage, brave mates, take weapons, and to fight:  
" Fortune defends true valour in his right.   

But since men may in war sometimes prevail,  
As much by policy, as power or might,  
And that where strength and prowess often fail,  
Wit doth at length give succour to the right.  

* A rare policy of the Frogs.  I wish you arm yourselves with spear & shield,  
And march along the shore unto the field,  
Where, on a hill which overlookes the flood,  
We will encamp ourselves as in a wood.   

When to this place these craven Mice convey  
Their fearful soldiers, like a flock of sheep,  
And to besiege our fortress shall assay,  
Where we upon the hill our forces keep:  
If any boasting Mouse upon the bank,  
Dare but ascend one foot before his rank,  
Him we will all assail infurious mood,  
And cast his body headlong in the flood.   

By this rare stratagem and brave devise,  
We shall their malice and great pride abate:  
Thus shall we conquer corner-creeping Mice,  
Which would annoy our peace and quiet state.  

* Addidit invalida robur faecundia causae,  And thus with trophies and triumphing play,  
We will like victors crown our heads with bay.  
Then arm yourselves, brave mates, with spear & shield  
" God, and great Neptune grant us win the field.   

Here did he end, and scarce he made an end,  
But all the Frogs, from greatest to the least,  
For these ensuing wars their studies bend  
To get such weapons as befit them best:  

* The armour and weapons of the Frogs.  First to their thighs green Malow they do wrap,  
Which hang down like a bag or butcher's flap.  
Beets, like a cloak, upon their back they done,  
Which serves for breastplate and habergion.   

A Cockles shell for salad they prepare,  
T'award their heads from blows amid the field:  
In their left hands these water-souldiers bore  
A leaf of Colewort for a trusty shield,  
And in their right (for all parts armed were)  
They toss a bulrush for a pike or spear.  
Along the shore they march in this array,  
Mad with fell rage, yet glad to see this day.   

Thus whilst both armies did prepare to fight,  

* A counsel assembled in heaven.  Almighty jove, eternal, without end,  
Invites the gods into his palace bright,  
Whence rattling thunder, & bright flames descend:  
And pointing with his finger down below,  
To them these puissant warriors doth he show,  
Stout as the Contaures or the Giant's great,  
Which once assayed to pull Jove from his seat.   


* Aspiciunt oculis superi mortalia iustis.  Whom when the gods together did behold,  
Marching like Pigmie-Braggarts in array,  
And sternly shake their spears like champions bold,  
As though no terror could their hearts dismay,  
They made the court of heaun with laughter ring;  
Such pleasure and delight the sight did bring.  
Then smiling jove (deep silence kept a space)  
Lift up his voice, and spoke with royal grace:   

If Frogs and Mice (quoth he) their patrons have,  
 daughter Pallas, my 
* Goddess of war.  Bellona dear,  
Tell us which side thou wilt protect and save,  
Shall not the gallant Mice be victors here?  
Great store of them within thy temples dwell,  
Alured thither by the tempting smell,  
Which still amounteth from thy sacrifice.  
Pallas again did answer in this wise:   

Great Lord of heaven and earth, beloved Sire,  
If you command, your daughter must obey,  
My will subjected is to your desire,  
" For children cannot father's hests deny:  
Yet force me not, kind father, once to shield  
These hungerstarved pirates in the field,  
False lurking creatures, greedy thievish Mice,  
Whose teeth pollute my sweet fat sacrifice.   

Great are the wrongs and mischiefs I abide,  
By these detested vermin day and night,  
Much they impair my worship and my pride:  
And shall I then defend them in this right?  
The hallowed oil, which sacred fire doth stay  
Within my lamps, they steal and lick away:  
My 
* Crowns of victory.  crowns they gnaw, but these are losses small,  
This is the hurt molests me most of all:   

My brave ensign embroidered all with gold,  
Never brave ensign was so rich of price,  
Wherein my acts and triumphs were enrolled,  
Is eaten, torn and spoilt by these Mice.  
This is my hurt surpassing all the rest,  
For this cause chief I these Mice detest:  
And shall I, father, seem to patronise  
My foes, my wronger's, and sworn enemies?   

ne'er these accursed beasts will I defend:  
Command aught else, great jove, but pardon this:  
Nor dirty Frogs Bellona will befriend,  
Whose joy and pleasure in foul puddles is.  
For as I loathe the Mice for sundry wrongs:  
So I detest base Frogs for croaking songs,  
Whose harsh unpleasant voices in the night  
Breed nought but terror to each mortal wight.   

When I return oft sweeting from the wars,  
And after fainting travel think to sleep,  
With their seditious brawls, and croaking jars,  
Which in the filthy marshes they keep:  
Awake I lie, till morning's trumpeter  
Gives warning for the daystar to appear,  
And cheerful Cock chants forth his wont lay,  
To show the dawning of the joyful day:   

Though we are gods, yet let us all beware  
To secure in our person either part:  
For if these meet the gods, they will not spare  
To strike them with their javelins to the heart:  
But let us rather joy to see this fray,  
Where we behold their ruin and decay.  
Thus Pallas said. To whom incontinent  
The heavenly Senate gave a full consent.   


* The battle.  Mean while both armies mustered on the plain,  
And place their wings and squadrons in array,  
From either part a Herald doth again  
Give sign for battle and the bloody day.  
The buzzing Flies, because they were of skill  
To blow aloud their horns and trumpets shrill,  
A harsh tantarra sound unto the fight,  
Which lends more courage to their wont might.   

Heaven and earth doth thunder with the cry,  
When front to front these noble armies meet,  
Lose waving in the wind their ensigns fly,  
With wounds and fatal blows each other greet.  
The Mice assail, the Frogs the fight accept,  
In combat close each host to other stepped:  
For now the wings had skirmish hot begun,  
And with their battles forth like Lions run.   

But who was first amid this bloody fight,  
That gave the onset first, first won renown?  
Croaking Hypsiboas, first like a knight,  
Lick-taile Lichenor bravely tumbled down,  
Into his paunch so strong he thrust his spear,  
That forth his back behind it did appear,  
Grovelling the Mouse fell on the sandy plain,  
By this audacious Frog with valour slain.   

Next him, Troglodytes, which not afraid,  
Each secret hole and corner creepeth in,  
Gave Pelion the Frog, with dirt berayed,  
A deadly foil with his small brazen pin:  
Within the wound the javelin sticketh sore,  
And from the veins forth streams the purple gore,  
Thus to his end pale death this Frog did bring,  
" 
* Tendimus huc omnes.  Which kills the caitiff with the crowned king.   

Pot-creeping Embasichytros, of late,  
Whose valiant son did all the Frogs defy,  
Now quite confounded by disastrous fate,  
Devoid of life thy headless trunk doth lie  
At hardy Seutlëus his crooked feet,  
A Frog which feeds on nothing but the beet.  
And clam'rous Polyphon there lies thou dead,  
Slain by Artophagus which eateth bread.   

But when Limnocharis their deaths beheld,  
Which in the marish hath his whole delight,  
The angry Frog, by love and ire compelled,  
To sad revenge his power and forces dight:  
" 
* Mors morte pianda est.  Life must be paid with life, the Frog did cry,  
" Their deaths I will revenge, or with them dye.  
" Thus when true love, & valour guide the heart,  
" A coward's hand will play a soldier's part.   

And from the ground a millstone in great hast  
He reached:" strange wonders courage doth enact:  
And with great violence the same he cast,  
At proud Troglodytes as one distract:  
In middle of his neck the stone did light,  
Whereby he sleepeth in eternal night:  
Thus bruised with the fall, this Mouse did lie,  
Suffering the torments of death's tyranny.   

Young Lichenor, his son that first was slain,  
A gallant Mouse, which did no colours fear,  
Desirous, though with death, renown to gain,  
That his exploits, ensuing times might hear,  
Fierce butcherlike Limnocharis espied,  
Whose weapons were with blood in scarlet died:  
To whom he said, Fight coward, or else fly,  
Thou or Lichenor here shall surely dye.   

And with those words, aiming his heart to hit,  
Strongly his javelin at the Frog he threw,  
It pierced his side, his breast and bowels split,  
His vital spirits from his body flew;  
Dead lay Limnocharis upon the plain,  
The bravest soldier in the watery train.  
" For death impartial doth with oneself hand,  
" Cut off the strong & weak at heavens command.   

Crambophagus, Eat-Colewort, which of late  
Basely his arms and weapons cast away,  
Thinking by flight to fly the stroke of fate,  
Ran to the water from the mortal fray:  
Whom Lichenor, more swift than he, pursued,  
And in his hearts warm blood his spear imbrued:  
Upon the shore the dastard Frog was slain,  
Ere he could leap into the running maine.   

Heroical Limnesus, Fennie Lord,  
Incensed by mad rage, black furies brand,  
The bold Ty●oglyphus slew with the sword,  
A great commander in the Mouces band.  
Deep holes and hollow caves he used to delve  
Among the Cheeses lying on the shelve.  
His head the Frog doth from his neck advance,  
And in great triumph bears it on his lance.   

Faint-hearted 
* So called of the herb Calamint.  Calaminthiu, in great fear,  
Little in stature, and of courage small,  
Beholding vast Pternoglyphus appear,  
A Mouse exceeding great, strong, burly, tall  
And which in bacon flitches holes doth make,  
He doth his weapons with the field forsake,  
And craven-like fled to the dirty bogs,  
" Even as the fearful Hare pursued with dogs.   

But bold Hydrocharis, that loves the flood,  
Famous for deeds of arms, would never fly,  
The furious Mouse this peerless Frog withstood,  
Nor would he shun a foot though he should die:  
Lately Pternophagon this gallant killed,  
Which oft with Bacon hath his belly filled:  
Now with a stone, Pternoglyphus he slew,  
Whose cloddred brains the crimson field imbrue.   

Lichopinax, which first told to the king  
The baleful news of his son's tragedy,  
At Borborocaetes did his darts still fling:  
A valiant Frog, though in the dirt he lie.  
Prostrate he fell upon the sandy ground,  
The Mouces dart had made a mortal wound:  
Whereat pale death sent forth his fainting spirit,  
To sleep in darkness and eternal night.   

When this the Frog Prassophagus beheld,  
Eat-Leeke Prassophagus, swift as the Hind,  
He ran with mighty stowre along the field,  
And taking Cuissodioctes neat behind,  
From off his feet the little Mouse he fling,  
Into the streaming current all along,  
Nor there he left him, till with raging mood  
He had his foe estrangled in the flood.   

Eat-crumme Psicharpax, which was near allied  
Unto the king's young son that erst was drowned,  
In succour of his friends the Frogs defied,  
And to the battle made him ready bound,  
Dirty Pelusus in the paunch he thrust,  
Faintly the Frog sunk down into the dust,  
Whose fluttring spirit did her passage make,  
Down to 
* It is taken for the entry into hell.  Avernus that unpleasant lake.   

Pelobates, which loves to tread the mire,  
Saw when his friend and fellow soldier fell,  
And adding fuel to the smoking fire,  
His fury into burning flames 'gan swell:  
For filling both his hands with dirt apace,  
He cast it fiercely in Psicharpax face,  
Which much besmeared his visage with disguise,  
And almost blinded and put out his eyes.   

But he the strong Psicharpax moved with spleen,  
And justly angry at this beastly wrong,  
took up a mighty stone which there had been  
A bound or landmark 'tween two neighbours long,  
And hurling it with vigour and great power,  
He burst his knee asunder in that stour,  
The right leg fell dismembered from his thigh,  
And not once moving, on the ground doth lie.   

Ne there he thought to leave him in sad plight,  
But with a javelin would have rest his life,  
Had not Craugasides, that croaking wight,  
Whose chiefest pleasure is in brawling strife,  
Kept off the blow, and with a sudden push,  
Thrust through the Mouse his belly with a rush,  
Upon the ground his bowels gushed forth:  
" Thus died this martial hart, & Mouse of worth▪   

Which when Eat-corne Sitophagus espied,  
That erst was maimed of two legs in fight,  
Washing his wounds along the water side,  
And sore amazed at this rueful sight,  
He dared not adventure forth again  
Into the field, for fear he should be slain:  
But leapt into the strong entrenched fort,  
Where he received was in joyful sort.   

Nethlesse the warlike troops of either band,  
Persisted still with courage in the field,  
Great store lie slain upon the drenched sand,  
Yet not, for thy, a soldier seems to yield:  
" Now fury roars, ire threats, & woe complains,  
" One weeps, another cries, he sighs for pains.  
" The hosts both clad in blood, in dust and mire,  
" Had changed their cheer, their pride, their rich attire.   

Thus whiles the conquest was to neither bend,  
But poizd in balance between hope and fear,  
Those two which hold the supreme government  
O'er both the armies which in battle were,  

* The conflict of the two kings.  The Kings of Frogs and Mice together meet,  
Where they with mortal blows each other greet:  
" But cowards often faintly step aside,  
" When manhood is by resolution tried.   

For scarce they had encountered in the fight,  
And lent some equal strokes on either side,  
When king of Mice thinking his foe to smite  
Upon the head, his sword to ground did glide,  
But yet his foot it wounded when it fell,  
Which blow did much his haughty courage quell:  
For he which erst was author of this strife,  
Now seeks the bogs for safeguard of his life.   

The valorous incensed king of Mice,  
Seeing the Frogs proud king so basely fly,  
Which was of late so resolute and wise,  
To vaunt of trophies ere he blows did try,  
Calling his soldiers on with cheerful hue,  
His fainting weary foe he doth pursue,  
Still hoping (since his wound had made him slow)  
To overtake him with a fatal blow.   

And but that never-daunted Captain brought,  
Captain Prassaeus, Greene as garden-Leeke,  
A troop of gallants which would fly for aught,  
To aid the king, his life had been to seek.  
Which pressing through the middle of the fray,  
Rescued their wounded king which fled away,  
And with their darts beat back the Mice a space,  
Till forth of danger they had rid his grace.   

Greatly the Mice were daunted with their blows,  
So thick they fell, and forcibly were sent,  
That they were forced from danger of the throws,  
Back to retire and some what to relent,  
Until their rage and fury were o'erpast,  
Through want of breath: then they again as fast  
The Frogs assail, and mightily amate,  
As forward erst, now backward to retreat.   

Among the squadrons of the Mouces band,  
One Mouse there was more gallant than the rest,  
A braver soldier was not in the land,  
Nor stouter Captain ever wars professed:  
For though stern Mars his manhood list to try,  
Mars could not force this daring Mouse to fly:  
But when in arms this warrior is clad.  
He rather is of Mars to be ydrad.   

This was the son of Artepibulus,  
Which doth for bread in wait and ambush lie,  
Of lofty heart and magnanimous,  
A worthy sire to such a progeny,  
Whom mighty Meridarpax he did call,  
That eats the crumbs which under table fall:  
Was never Mouse which under heaven doth live,  
That durst adventure with him for to strive.   

Like to a Giant stood this champion bold,  
Upon the shore near to the rivers side,  
Vaunting his might and prowess, as he would  
Have pulled the throne of Jove down in his pride.  
And holding up his burly arms to heaven,  
Swore by the Sun, the Moon, and Planets seven,  
That e'er bright Phoebus lighted from his wain,  
One craven Frog should not alive remain.   

For by this hand, quoth he, by this right hand,  
(Searce would a man believe it though he swear)  
Though not a Mouse will venture them withstand,  
But fly the field for cowardice and fear:  
Yet I, behold I, will so thresh these Frogs,  
That with their corpses I will fill the bogs:  
Or they, or I, by jove this vow I make,  
This night will lodge beyond the 
* A river in hell, over which souls do pass to all places.  Stygian lake.   

And certs, these words had not been spoke in vain,  
He had performed his vow: (though shame to tell)  
If that the Father of the heavenly train,  
The king of men, and Lord of deepest hell,  
Great jove, had not beheld from starry skies  
His dire complots and bloody enterprise,  
And taking pity of the Frogs estate,  
To Mars and all the rest thus 'gan relate.   

Ye Gods, which here behold this dismal day,  
And see the slaughters of the cruel fight,  
What braggart Mouse is this that bears such sway  
near to the river, vaunting of his might?  
How bold he looks, how proud he bears his head,  
As though the Frogs lay all before him dead,  
Deeply protesting on the parched sand,  
Not one poor Frog shall scape his murdering hand.   

Divine inhabitants of heaven, behold,  
Behold, I say, alas, the wretched case,  
And great mishap which doth poor Frogs enfold,  
Now pressed to suffer ruin and disgrace:  
Unless you deign to save them at this hour,  
And send in aid some number of your power,  
To quell the daring courage of the Mice,  
And stop proud Meridarpax enterprise.   

If that displease, then let us Pallas send  
T'assuage the fury of this cruel fone:  
Or thou stern Mars haste thither for to wend,  
Clad in arms of Adamantine stone;  
That this fell 
* Meridarpax.  Tiger, greedy of his prey,  
 he annoy the Frogs, may run away.  
Here jove did end: But Mars of visage grim,  
Arising from his seat, replied to him:   

Beloved Father, Lord of heaven and hell,  
To your behest all powers subjected stand,  
Which do in heaven or lower regions dwell,  
None may or dare deny when you command:  
Then think, sweet Father, Mars accounteth still Jove,  
Your word for right, as law your only will,  
" Kings men command on earth, why should not  
" The King of Kings, command the gods above?   

Speak but the word, great Mars is always pressed,  
At joves' appoint, in arms to enter field;  
And for stout Pallas, at your least request,  
I know my sister willingly will yield:  
But neither I. though I be god of wars,  
Nor Pallas, whose renown doth reach the stars,  
Now are of force the falling Frogs to stay,  
Or them preserve from imminent decay.   

No, rather send the gods, send all the power,  
That highest heavenly Hierarchies can make,  
Or on their heads lightning with thunder shower,  
(That all their army may with terror quake)  
With which thou slyw'st the Giants long agone,  

* A great Giant which jupiter slew with lightning.  Enceladus, and proud 
* Phaceon, he was slain with thunder.  Apollo's son.  
Thus ended frowning Mars. To whose behest  
Great jove gave full consent, with all the rest.   

And presently ascending up the tower,  
Where sulphurous brands with stony darts of fire,  
And all the weapons of his might and power  
Are kept, to plague proud rebels in his ire:  
First, there he caused great ghastly flames arise,  
And thunderclaps, that seemed to rend the skies,  
And still among this hideous roaring sound,  
He darted burning bolts the Mice to wound.   

Pale fear assailed both the Frogs and Mice,  
When first on sudden they the thunder heard,  
So great a terror in their minds did rise,  
As though with spirits they had been askard:  
" For who in's breast so stout a heart doth bear,  
" That when heaven's thunder, doth not quake for fear,  
" And stand amazed to view with mortal eyes,  
" When angry jove darts lightning from the skies?   

Nethlesse, although the Mice were much dismayed,  
To hear the sound, and see the fearful sight,  
Yet left they not the battle as afraid,  
But stood with greater courage to the fight.  
" 
* Apparet virtus, arguiturque malis.  Certes, true valour may recoil a space,  
" Yet still her force renews with greater grace.  
Fiercer they rage's than erst they did before:  
Such heaps of Frogs lie slain upon the shore.   

When angry jove beheld with rueful eye,  
For all his care, the Frogs still go to wrack,  
And see the Mice more desperate hereby,  
Scorning his lightnings and harsh thunder-cracke,  
He wept to view their slaughter and decay:  
And now he thought to try a surer way,  
By other means the Frogs from death to shend:  
" For whom God loves, he favours to the end.   

From forth the Cistern of the Ocean deep,  
Whence rivers both their springs and tides renew,  

* The description of the Crabs.  An ugly swarm of filthy monsters creep,  
A foul infernal and ill-favoured crew,  
Which still go backward with a squinting eye,  
To see before their footsteps what doth lie:  
" For thus doth mother nature always aim.  
" For each defect a remedy to frame.   

Exceeding were their shoulders out of square;  
So broad, so great, as irks my muse to tell:  
Their bald blue back withouten skin or hair,  
Was all o'er whelmed with a costive shell,  
As hard as Iron, or the flinty stones.  
Their bodies wholly were compact of bones.  
Before their ugly face two claws bear sway,  
With which they want to grope & feel their way.   

On either side of their deformed breast,  
Four crooked legs their grievous burden bear:  
Two stern grim lowering eyes by nature's hest,  
In middle of their belly did appear.  
Their grisly crowns seemed cloven into three;  
On two whereof like helmets you might see.  
So vile a brood of fell misshapen Snakes  
ne'er could be found, but in th' infernal lakes.   

These monstrous ugly Crabs (for Crabs they were)  
Crawling along the spacious continent,  
When jove beheld from out his Palace clear,  
Which lies beyond the spangled firmament,  
He sent the hellbred band unto the fray,  
To kill the Mice, or make them run away.  
The Crabs obeyed," nor take they care for arms;  
" Their shells will keep them safe from greatest harms.   

No sooner were they come unto the fight,  
Where warlike Mice their enemies assail,  
But all at once the Crabs upon them light,  
Asunder break their legs, bite off their tail,  
Their javelins pluck away, & pinch their hands,  
Nothing their savage cruelty withstands:  
So Tigerlike upon the Mice they pray,  
As would perforce the stoutest heart afray.   

But when the Mice beheld these monster's rage,  
So dire and bloody as doth grieve me tell,  
Their haughty courage some deal 'gan assuage,  
Their hearts from wont resolution fell;  
Their arms they throw away, the field forsake,  
And to their heels for safeguard them betake:  
" For if both heaven and hell conspire decay,  
" No marvel though poor Mice do run away.   

Thus by the succour of the Crabs that day,  
The Mice were forced to a shameful flight,  
The Frogs preserved from imminent decay,  
Which else had slept in death and endless night.  
And now the welked Phoebus 'gan to rest  
His wearied waggon in the scarlet West,  
When sullen night prepared her course to run,  
Sealed up the battle with the setting Sun.    

The conclusion of the Translator.  
Lo, in a veil presented to thine eye,  
Among more lessons worthy due regard,  
Of trifling jars and foolish enmity,  
The ominous success and just reward.  
See then from strife and discord thou refrain,  
Lest sad repentance breed thy further pain:  
" For if 
* Hodie sub hominum specie, Caneri causas agunt.  black Crabs do chance to part the fray,  
" Small is their gain that bear the best away.  Et facit ad mores ars quoque nostra bonos. 
FINIS.   

To his Cousin, Master Ambrose Hargreves health.  

Whether a secret influence from above,  
Or supernatural motion of the mind,  
May seem goodliking, and affection move,  
Among those men whom kindred had combined:  
Or whether nature, Cousin, us inclined,  
So highly to esteem affinity,  
I cannot easily judge, nor causes find,  
Why we so favour consanguinity.  
But certs the work is from divinity.   

And whence this inward motion doth arise,  
Is for my purpose needless to decide,  
Since we find it true, whom blood allies,  
In league of friendship commonly abide,  
And in the band of love are nearer tied:  
Nethlesse when other causes bear a sway,  
To move good will, it cannot be denied,  
But than it is more firm, as is the day,  
Brighter when Phoebus doth his beams display.   

Yet since first kindred doth command as due,  
An interchange of amity and love,  
Much, I confess, for this I favour you,  
In whom the gifts of wit and learning move,  
Which more confirm what here I seek to prove:  
But that you live old Hargreves only son,  
Whose blessed soul rests in the arms of jove,  
And in the bosom of the Holy one;  
This hath the key of my affection.   

This hath the greatest interest in my heart,  
And deeper stands infixed in my breast,  
Then either kindred, or the gifts of art,  
Or what blind Nature doth esteem as best:  
For though I held him dear, I do protest,  
Before his passage from this vale of woe,  
Yet now enthroned in everlasting rest,  
Much more I love; we seldom fully know  
True Virtue's worth, till virtue we forgo.   

Gone is the star, whose lustre beautified  
Each twinkling light that Northern climates bred,  
Yet though that clouds obscure Apollo's pride,  
With greater glory soon he shows his head:  
So though we think renowned Hargreve dead,  
His life eclipsed by the clouds of fate,  
No mist or darkness can so overspread  
His lives true honour, or his praise abate,  
But still it shines abroad in fresher state.   

What should I think to set his praises forth,  
Which fare exceeds the compass of my brain?  
Too lofty subject for my simple worth,  
Nor can I easily reach so high a strain,  
Which never tasted that immortal vain,  
Flowing with Nectar down the sacred hill,  
Where those nine virgin- Muses aye remain,  
Which learned heads with heavenly fury fill,  
〈…〉 drop arts drearyment into their quill.   

Nethlesse, although so many tongues I had,  
As 
A Giant with a hundred hands.  Briareus had hands great Homer says,  
In habit of sweet eloquence clad,  
To blazon to the world his virtuous days,  
I should but give an Echo to his praise,  
And much abridge the volume of his story:  
Virtue is best to crown herself with Bays,  
And Hargreves worth to register his glory,  
Which still survives, though life be transitory.   

In spite of envy, slander, death and hell,  
Hargreve revives from prison of the grave;  
Above the banks of Fame his praises swell,  
Since hissing Serpents sought him to deprave:  
When Virtue most is spurned, she grows most brave.  
Yet he which in his life was unreviled,  
In whom vile Malice could no vantage have,  
After his death by slander is defiled:  
But Virtue's meed hath infamy beguiled:   

For forth the ashes of foul Obloquy,  
Burned with the firebrands of slanderous lies,  
This peerless Phoenix, crowned with victory,  
Still doth renew himself and never dies,  
And on the wings of Honour mounts the skies,  
Whereas his soul rests in Iehovah's arm,  
Scorning the checks of dunghill Scarabies,  
And all the bitings of that viperous swarm,  
Whose tongues are ever pressed to work his harm.   

Cousin, me thinks the mystery is deep,  
That they which Shepherds do in show appear,  
Clad in the habit of a simple sheep,  
Whom neither pride nor envy cometh near,  
Should be transformed to an ugly Bear,  
And play the Wolf so fitly in the end,  
As a dead man asunder for to tear,  
Whom in their life they never durst offend,  
Proving a savage Vulture to their friend.   

Yet thus, we see, sums Cooks are wont to use  
The silly sheep, which whilst he breathes the air,  
They never dare adventure to abuse,  
Or seek the harmless creature to impair:  
But when the bloody Butcher doth not spare  
Within his throat to sheathe the murdering blade,  
They straight disjoint his members without care,  
And cut and mangle him before them laid,  
More cruel than the Butcher by their trade.   

Needless it is my meaning to unfold:  
Your eagle's eyes will quickly see the Sun;  
All that shows fair, is not refined gold;  
Nor all pure vestals which in cloisters won:  
Sometimes a Wolf a Shepherd's weed will done:  
And starved Snakes, as Esope wisely told,  
Preserved through pity from destruction.  
When fire hath freed their joints benumbed with cold,  
Will hisse their friend, like Serpents from his hold.   

Pardon me, Cousin, though I seem too bold,  
T'unrip the Cankers of a festered sore,  
Too much I grieve to hear him thus controlled,  
And falsely slandered by a grunting Boar,  
And by a heard of swine, which erst before,  
When famous Hargreve lived, like dogs did flatter  
Yet heaven I hope, which judgements hath in store,  
Will first or last reward them for this matter:  
And turn the case on shore when tides want water.   

Longer I will not aggravate their shame,  
Broaching the cask of their unnatural sin:  
Well can the world testify the same,  
How thankless and ungrateful they have been,  
And how injurious still they dealt herein:  
But since the world neglects a dead man's wrong,  
My Muse, albeed she be both bare and thin,  
Is not afraid, though envies part be strong,  
To let them know th'abuses of their tongue.   

But let the wicked band themselves in one,  
To work true virtue's ruin and decay:  
Tread you the path your father erst hath gone,  
And fear not what the proud can do or say:  
For though ambition seem to bear a sway,  
And envies sting procure the just man's smart,  
Truth will advance her cause as clear as day,  
And turn the scandal of detractions dart,  
Upon themselves, with shame and grief of heart.   

Well could you beat (I know) the billows back,  
Which seek t'orewhelme the Bark of Hargreves name:  
But never tempest can his vessel crack,  
Since Virtue serves as Anchor to his fame:  
Deign therefore, Cousin, to protect from blame  
This simple work, that like as Hargreves friend  
Stands in the front to patronise the same;  
So Hargreves son in fine will it defend,  
Lest Curs do bite behind what I have penned.   
FINIS.