I saw a wolfe under a rockie cave
Noursing two whelpes; I saw her litle ones
In wanton dalliance the teate to crave,
While she her neck wreath’d from them for the nones*.
I saw her raunge abroad to seeke her food,
And roming through the field with greedie rage
T’embrew her teeth and clawes with lukewarm blood
Of the small heards, her thirst for to asswage.
I saw a thousand huntsmen, which descended
Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie,
That with an hundred speares her flank wide rened:
I saw her on the plaine outstretched lie,
Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle**:
Soone on a tree uphang’d I saw her spoyle.
[* _Nones_, nonce.] [** I.e. the mire made by her blood.]