O Sorrowe, alas, sith Sorrowe is thy name,
And that to thee this drere doth well pertayne,
In vayne it were to seeke to ceas the same:
But as a man hymselfe with sorrowe slayne,
So I alas do comfort thee in payne,
That here in sorrowe art forsonke so depe
That at thy sight I can but sigh and wepe.
I had no sooner spoken of a sike
But that the storme so rumbled in her brest,
As Eolus could never roare the like,
And showers downe rayned from her iyen so fast,
That all bedreynt the place, till at the last
Well eased they the dolour of her minde,
As rage of rayne doth swage the stormy wynde.
For furth she paced in her fearfull tale:
Cum, cum, (quod she) and see what I shall shewe,
Cum heare the playning, and the bytter bale
Of worthy men, by Fortune overthrowe.
Cum thou and see them rewing all in rowe.
They were but shades that erst in minde thou rolde :
Cum, cum with me, thine eyes shall them beholde.
What could these wordes but make me more agast:
To heare her tell whereon I musde while eare?
So was I mazed therewyth, tyll at the last,
Musing upon her wurdes, and what they were,
All sodaynly well lessoned was my feare:
For to my minde returned howe she telde
Both what she was, and where her wun she helde.
Whereby I knewe that she a Goddesse was,
And therewithall resorted to my minde
My thought, that late presented me the glas
Of brittle state, of cares that here we finde,
Of thousand woes to silly men assynde:
And howe she nowe byd me come and beholde,
To see with iye that erst in thought I rolde.
Flat downe I fell, and with al reverence
Adored her, perceyving nowe that she
A Goddesse sent by godly providence,
In earthly shape thus showed her selfe to me,
To wayle and rue this worldes uncertayntye:
And while I honourd thus her godheds might,
With playning voyce these wurdes to me she shryght.
I shal the guyde first to the griesly lake,
And thence unto the blisfull place of rest.
Where thou shalt see and heare the playnt they make,
That whilom here bare swinge among the best.
This shalt thou see, but great is the unrest
That thou must byde before thou canst attayne
Unto the dreadfull place where these remayne.
And with these wurds as I upraysed stood,
And gan to folowe her that strayght furth paced,
Eare I was ware, into a desert wood
We nowe were cum where hand in hand imbraced,
She led the way, and through the thicke so traced,
As but I had bene guyded by her might,
It was no waye for any mortall wight.
But loe, while thus amid the desert darke,
We passed on with steppes and pace unmete:
A rumbling roar confusde with howle and barke
Of Dogs, shoke all the ground under our feete,
And stroke the din within our eares so deepe,
As halfe distraught unto the ground I fell,
Besought retourne, and not to visite hell.
But she forthwith uplifting me apace
Removed my dread, and with a stedfast minde
Bad me come on, for here was now the place,
The place where we our travayle ende should finde.
Wherwith I arose, and to the place assynde
Astoynde I stalke, when strayht we approched nere
The dredfull place, that you wil dread to here.
An hydeous hole al vaste, withouten shape,
Of endles depth, orewhelmde with ragged stone,
Wyth ougly mouth, and grisly jawes doth gape,
And to our sight confounds it selfe in one.
Here entred we, and yeding forth, anone
An horrible lothly lake we might discerne
As blacke as pitche, that cleped is Averne.
A deadly gulfe where nought but rubbishe growes,
With fowle blacke swelth in thickned lumpes that lyes,
Which up in the ayer such stinking vapors throwes
That over there, may flye no fowle but dyes,
Choakt with the pestilent savours that aryse.
Hither we cum, whence forth we still dyd pace,
In dreadful feare amid the dreadfull place.
And first within the portche and jawes of Hell
Sate diepe Remorse of conscience, al besprent
With teares: and to her selfe oft would she tell
Her wretchednes, and cursing never stent
To sob and sigh: but ever thus lament,
With thoughtful care, as she that all in vayne
Would weare and waste continually in payne.
Her iyes unstedfast rolling here and there,
Whurld on eche place, as place that vengeauns brought,
So was her minde continually in feare,
Tossed and tormented with the tedious thought
Of those detested crymes which she had wrought:
With dreadful cheare and lookes throwen to the skye, 230 Wyshyng for death, and yet she could not dye.
Next sawe we Dread al trembling how he shooke,
With foote uncertayne profered here and there:
Benumde of speache, and with a gastly looke
Searcht every place al pale and dead for feare,
His cap borne up with staring of his heare,
Stoynde and amazde at his owne shade for dreed,
And fearing greater daungers than was nede.
And next within the entry of this lake
Sate fell Revenge gnashing her teeth for yre,
Devising meanes howe she may vengeaunce take,
Never in rest tyll she have her desire :
But frets within so farforth with the fyer
Of wreaking flames, that nowe determines she,
To dye by death, or vengde by death to be.
When fell Revenge with bloudy foule pretence
Had showed her selfe as next in order set,
With trembling limmes we softly parted thence,
Tyll in our iyes another sight we met:
When fro my hart a sigh forthwith I fet
Rewing alas upon the wofull plight
Of Miserie, that next appered in sight.
His face was leane, and sumdeale pyned away,
And eke his handes consumed to the bone,
But what his body was I can not say,
For on his carkas, rayment had he none
Save cloutes and patches pieced one by one.
With staffe in hand, and skrip on shoulders cast,
His chiefe defence agaynst the winters blast.
His foode for most, was wylde fruytes of the tree,
Unles sumtime sum crummes fell to his share :
Which in his wallet, long God wot kept he,
As on the which full dayntlye would he fare.
His drinke the running streame, his cup the bare
Of his palme closed, his bed the hard colde grounde:
To this poore life was Miserie ybound.
Whose wretched state when we had well behelde,
With tender ruth on him and on his feres,
In thoughtful cares, furth then our pace we helde.
And by and by, an other shape apperes
Of Greedy care, stil brushing up the breres,
His knuckles knobd, his fleshe deepe dented in,
With tawed handes, and hard ytanned skyn.
The morrowe graye no sooner hath begunne
To spreade his light even peping in our iyes,
When he is up and to his worke yrunne,
But let the nightes blacke mistye mantels rise,
And with fowle darke never so much disguyse
The fayre bright day, yet ceaseth he no whyle,
But hath his candels to prolong his toyle.
By him lay Heavy slepe the cosin of death
Flat on the ground, and stil as any stone,
A very corps, save yelding forth a breath.
Small kepe tooke he whom Fortune frowned on,
Or whom she lifted up into the throne
Of high renowne, but as a living death,
So dead alyve, of lyf he drewe the breath.
The bodyes rest, the quyete of the hart,
The travayles ease, the still nightes feer was he:
And of our life in earth the better parte;
Rever of sight, and yet in whom we see
Thinges oft that tide, and ofte that never bee;
Without respect esteming equally
King Cresus pompe, and Irus povertie.
And next in order sad Olde age we found,
His beard all hoare, his iyes hollow and blynde,
With drouping chere still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him assinde
To rest, when that the sisters had untwynde
His vitall threde, and ended with theyr knyfe
The fleting course of fast declining life.
There heard we him with broken and hollow playnt
Rewe with him selfe his ende approching fast,
And all for nought his wretched minde torment,
With swete remembraunce of his pleasures past,
And freshe delites of lusty youth forwaste.
Recounting which, how would he sob and shrike?
And to be yong againe of Jove beseke.
But and the cruell fates so fixed be
That time forepast can not retourne agayne,
This one request of Jove yet prayed he:
That in such withered plight, and wretched paine,
As eld (accompanied withe his lothsom trayne)
Had brought on him, all were it woe and griefe,
He myght a while yet linger forth his lief,
And not so soone descend into the pit :
Where death, when he the mortall corps hath slayne,
With retchles hande in grave doth cover it,
Thereafter never to enjoye agayne
The gladsome light, but in the ground ylayne,
In depth of darkenes waste and weare to nought,
As he had never into the world been brought.
But who had seene him sobbing, howe he stoode
Unto him selfe, and howe he would bemone
His youth forepast, as though it wrought hym good
To talke of youth, al wer his youth foregone,
He would have musde, and mervayl'd much whereon
This wretched age should life desyre so faine,
And knowes ful wel life doth but length his payne.
Crookebackt he was, toothshaken, and blere iyed,
Went on three feete, and sometime crept on fower,
With olde lame bones, that ratled by his syde,
His skalpe all pilde, and he with elde forlore:
His withered fist stil knocking at deathes dore:
Fumbling and driveling as he drawes his breth:
For briefe: the shape and messenger of death.
And fast by him pale Maladie was plaste,
Sore sicke in bed, her colour al forgone,
Bereft of stomake, savor, and of taste,
Ne could she brooke no meat but brothes alone:
Her breath corrupt, her kepers every one
Abhorring her, her sickenes past recure,
Detesting phisicke, and all phisickes cure.
But oh the doleful sight that then we see,
We turnde our looke and on the other side
A griesly shape of Famíne mought we see,
With greedy lookes, and gaping mouth that cryed,
And roard for meat as she should there have dyed,
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Wherto was left nought but the case alone.
And that alas was knawen on every where,
All full of holes, that I ne mought refrayne
From teares, to se how she her armes could teare
And with her teeth gnashe on the bones in vayne:
When all for nought she fayne would so sustayne
Her starven corps, that rather seemde a shade,
Then any substaunce of a creature made.
Great was her force whom stone wall could not stay,
Her tearyng nayles snatching at all she sawe:
With gaping jawes that by no meanes ymay
Be satisfyed from hunger of her mawe,
But eates her selfe as she that hath no lawe:
Gnawyng alas her carkas all in vayne,
Where you may count eche sinow, bone, and vayne.
On her while we thus firmely fixt our iyes,
That bled for ruth of such a drery sight,
Loe sodaynelye she shryght in so huge wyse,
As made hell gates to shyver with the myght,
Wherewith a darte we sawe howe it did lyght
Ryght on her brest, and therewithal pale death
Enthryllyng it to reve her of her breath.
And by and by a dum dead corps we sawe,
Heavy and colde, the shape of death aryght,
That dauntes all earthly creatures to his lawe:
Agaynst whose force in vayne it is to fyght.
Ne piers, ne princes, nor no mortall wyght,
Ne townes, ne realmes, cities, ne strongest tower,
But al perforce must yeeld unto his power.
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