Crete

(From A Midsummer-Night’s Dream)

HIPPOLYTA.  I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once,

When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear

With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear

Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves,

The skies, the fountains, every region near

Seem’d all one mutual cry: I never heard

So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

  THESEUS.  My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,

So flew’d, so sanded; and their heads are hung

With ears that sweep away the morning dew;

Crook-kneed, and dew-lapp’d like Thessalian bulls;

Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells,

Each under each. A cry more tunable

Was never halloo’d to, nor cheer’d with horn,

In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:

Judge, when you hear.