The hand of Justice, or this blade,
Which I, her sword-bearer, do carry, 760
For civil deed and military.
Nor shall those words of venom base,
Which thou hast from their native place,
Thy stomach, pump'd to fling on me,
Go unreveng'd, though I am free: 765
Thou down the same throat shalt devour 'em,
Like tainted beef, and pay dear for 'em.
Nor shall it e'er be said, that wight
With gantlet blue, and bases white,
And round blunt truncheon by his side, 770
So great a man at arms defy'd
With words far bitterer than wormwood,
That would in Job or Grizel stir mood.
Dogs with their tongues their wounds do heal;
But men with hands, as thou shalt feel. 775

This said, with hasty rage he snatch'd
His gun-shot, that in holsters watch'd;
And bending cock, he levell'd full
Against th' outside of TALGOL'S skull;
Vowing that he shou'd ne'er stir further, 780
Nor henceforth cow nor bullock murther.
But PALLAS came in shape of rust,
And 'twixt the spring and hammerthrust
Her Gorgon shield, which made the cock
Stand stiff, as t'were transform'd to stock. 785
Mean while fierce TALGOL, gath'ring might,
With rugged truncheon charg'd the Knight;