And now the witch strode through the house,
Hell-waters scattering wide around;
Her hair like hedgehog's bristling rose,
Or like the boar's whom hunters wound.
Veia, by pity unrestrain'd,
With pick-axe hastes the ground to tear,
And toil'd till sweat she panting rain'd,
That the poor wretch imburied there
Might slowly die, in sight of food
Renew'd each day, his head so far
Extant from earth, as from the flood
The heads of swimmers extant are;
That the parch'd marrow and the dry
Liver for a love-draught might be,
When fixt upon the feast the eye,
The craving eye should cease to see.
All Naples says in verity,
And all the neighbouring towns beside,
That Folia lewd of Rimini
Was present there, that dreadful tide--
She who with verse Thessalian sang
Down from their spheres the stars and moon.
Her uncut thumb with livid fang
The fell Canidia biting soon:
"Night and Diana," scream'd she out,
"Of my deeds faithful witnesses!
Ye who spread silence wide about,
When wrought are sacred mysteries!
Now aid me: in my foe's house bid
Your wrath and power divine to hie,
Whilst in their awful forests hid,
O'ercome with sleep, the wild beasts lie:
May suburb curs, that all may jeer,
Bay the old lecher, smear'd with nard {94},
More choice than which these fingers ne'er
Have, skilful, at my need prepar'd.
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