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And, next, within the entry of this lake,
Sat fell REVENGE, gnashing her teeth for ire;
Devising means how she may vengeance take;
Never in rest, till she have her desire;
But frets within so far forth with the fire
Of wreaking flames, that now determines she
To die by death, or 'veng'd by death to be.

When fell REVENGE, with bloody foul pretence,
Had show'd herself, as next in order set,
With trembling limbs we softly parted thence,
Till in our eyes another sight we met;
When fro my heart a sigh forthwith I fet,
Ruing, alas, upon the woeful plight
Of MISERY, that next appear'd in sight:

His face was lean, and some-deal pin'd away,
And eke his hands consumed to the bone;
But, what his body was, I cannot say,
For on his carkass rayment had he none,
Save clouts and patches pieced one by one;
With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulders cast,
His chief defence against the winter's blast:

His food, for most, was wild fruits of the tree,
Unless sometime some crums fell to his share,
Which in his wallet long, God wot, kept he,
As on the which full daint❜ly would he fare;
His drink, the running stream, his cup, the bare
Of his palm closed; his bed, the hard cold ground:
To this poor life was MISERY ybound.

Whose wretched state when we had well beheld,
With tender ruth on him, and on his feers,
In thoughtful cares forth then our pace we held;
And, by and by, another shape appears
Of greedy CARE, still brushing up the breers;
His knuckles knob'd, his flesh deep dinted in,
With tawed hands, and hard ytanned skin:

The morrow grey no sooner hath begun
To spread his light, e'en peeping in our eyes,
But he is up, and to his work yrun;

But let the night's black misty mantles rise,
And with foul dark never so much disguise
The fair bright day, yet ceaseth he no while,
But hath his candles to prolong his toil.

By him lay heavy SLEEP, the cousin of Death,
Flat on the ground, and still as any stone,
A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath;
Small keep took he, whom fortune frowned on,
Or whom she lifted up into the throne
Of high renown, but, as a living death,
So dead alive, of life he drew the breath:

The body's rest, the quiet of the heart,
The travel's ease, the still night's feer was he,
And of our life in earth the better part;
Rever of sight, and yet in whom we see
Things oft that [tyde] and oft that never be;
Without respect, esteem [ing] equally
King CROESUS' pomp and IRUS' poverty.

And next, in order sad, OLD-AGE we found:
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind;
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him assign'd
To rest, when that the sisters had untwin'd
His vital thread, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast-declining life:

There heard we him with broke and hollow plaint
Rue with himself his end approaching fast,
And all for nought his wretched mind torment
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past,
And fresh delights of lusty youth forewaste;
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek,
And to be young again of Jove beseek!

But, an' the cruel fates so fixed be
That time forepast cannot return again,
This one request of Jove yet prayed he,-
That, in such wither'd plight, and wretched pain,
As eld, accompany'd with her lothsome train,
Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief,
He might a while yet linger forth his lief,

And not so soon descend into the pit;
Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath slain,
With rechless hand in grave doth cover it;
Thereafter never to enjoy again

The gladsome light, but, in the ground ylain,
In depth of darkness waste and wear to nought,
As he had ne'er into the world been brought:

But who had seen him sobbing how he stood
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan
His youth forepast,-as though it wrought him good
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone,-
He would have mus'd, and marvel'd much, whereon
This wretched Age should life desire so fain,
And knows full well life doth but length his pain:

Crook-back'd he was, tooth-shaken, and blear-eyed;
Went on three feet, and, sometime, crept on four;
With old lame bones, that rattled by his side;
His scalp all pil'd, and he with eld forelore,
His wither'd fist still knocking at death's door;
Fumbling, and driveling, as he draws his breath;
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.

And fast by him pale MALADY was placed:
Sore sick in bed, her colour all foregone;
Bereft of stomach, savour, and of taste,
Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone;
Her breath corrupt; her keepers every one
Abhorring her; her sickness past recure,
Detesting physick, and all physick's cure.

But, O, the doleful sight that then we see!
We turn'd our look, and on the other side
A grisly shape of FAMINE mought we see:
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth, that cry'd
And roar'd for meat, as she should there have dy'd;
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left nought but the case alone,

And that, alas, was gnaw'n on every where,
All full of holes; that I ne mought refrain
From tears, to see how she her arms could tear,
And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain,
When, all for nought, she fain would so sustain
Her starven corpse, that rather seem'd a shade
Than any substance of a creature made:

Great was her force, whom stone-wall could not stay:
Her tearing nails snatching at all she saw;
With gaping jaws, that by no means ymay
Be satisfy'd from hunger of her maw,
But eats herself as she that hath no law;
Gnawing, alas, her carkass all in vain,
Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vein.

On her while we thus firmly fix'd our eyes,
That bled for ruth of such a dreary sight,
Lo, suddenly she shright in so huge wise.
As made hell gates to shiver with the might;
Wherewith, a dart we saw, how it did light
Right on her breast, and, therewithal, pale DEATH
Enthrilling it, to reve her of her breath:

And, by and by, a dumb dead corpse we saw,
Heavy, and cold, the shape of Death aright,
That daunts all earthly creatures to his law,
Against whose force in vain it is to fight;
Ne peers, ne princes, nor no mortal wight,
No towns, ne realms, cities, ne strongest tower,
But all, perforce, must yield unto his power:

His dart, anon, out of the corpse he tooke,
And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see)
With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook,
That most of all my fears affrayed me;
His body dight with nought but bones, pardy;
The naked shape of man there saw I plain,
All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vein.

Lastly, stood WAR, in glittering arms yclad,
With visage grim, stern look [es] and blackly hued:
In his right hand a naked sword he had,

That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued;
And in his left (that kings and kingdoms rued)
Famine and fire he held, and therewithal
He razed towns, and threw down towers and all:

Cities he sack'd, and realms (that whilom flower'd
In honour, glory, and rule, above the rest)
He overwhelm'd, and all their fame devour'd,
Consum'd, destroy'd, wasted, and never ceas'd
Till he their wealth, their name, and all oppress'd:
His face forehew'd with wounds; and by his side
There hung his TARGE, with gashes deep and wide:

In mids of which depainted there we found
Deadly DEBATE, all full of snaky hair
That with a bloody fillet was ybound,
Outbreathing nought but discord every where:
And round about were pourtray'd, here and there,
The hugy hosts; DARIUS and his power,
His kings, his princes, peers, and all his flower.-

XERXES, the Persian king, yet saw I there,
With his huge host, that drank the rivers dry,
Dismounted hills, and made the vales uprear;
His host and all yet saw I slain, pardy:
Thebes I saw, all razed how it did lie
In heaps of stones; and Tyrus put to spoil,
With walls and towers flat-even'd with the soil.

But Troy, (alas!) methought, above them all,
It made mine eyes in very tears consume;
When I beheld the woeful word befall,
That by the wrathful will of gods was come,
And Jove's unmoved sentence and foredoom
On PRIAM king and on his town so bent,
I could not lin but I must there lament;

And that the more, sith destiny was so stern
As, force perforce, there might no force avail
But she must fall: and, by her fall, we learn
That cities, towers, wealth, world, and all shall quail;
No manhood, might, nor nothing mought prevail;
All were there prest, full many a prince and peer,
And many a knight that sold his death full dear:

Not worthy HECTOR, worthiest of them all,
Her hope, her joy, his force is now for nought:
O Troy, Troy, Troy, there is no boot but bale !
The hugy horse within thy walls is brought;
Thy turrets fall; thy knights, that whilom fought
In arms amid the field, are slain in bed;
Thy gods defil'd, and all thy honour dead:

The flames upspring, and cruelly they creep
From wall to roof, till all to cinders waste:
Some fire the houses where the wretches sleep;
Some rush in here, some run in there as fast;
In every where or sword, or fire, they taste:
The walls are torn, the towers whirl'd to the ground;
There is no mischief but may there be found.

CASSANDRA yet there saw I how they hal'd
From PALLAS' house, with spercled tress undone,
Her wrists fast bound, and with Greek rout impal'd ;
And PRIAM eke, in vain how he did run
To arms, whom PYRRHUS with despite hath done
To cruel death, and bath'd him in the baign
Of his son's blood before the altar slain.

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