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Ther saugh I first the dirke ymaginyng |
| Of Felonye, and al the compassyng, |
| The crueel Ire, reed as any gleede, |
1140 | The pykepurs, and eek the pale Drede, |
| The smylere with the knyf under the cloke, |
| The shepne brennynge with the blake smoke, |
| The tresoun of the mordrynge in the bedde, |
| The open werre, with woundes al bibledde; |
1145 | Contek, with blody knyf and sharp manace, |
| Al ful of chirkyng was that sory place. |
| The sleere of hymself yet saugh I ther, |
| His herte-blood hath bathed al his heer; |
| The nayl ydryven in the shode anyght, |
1150 | The colde deeth, with mouth gapyng upright. |
| Amyddes of the temple sat Meschaunce, |
| With Disconfort and Sory Contenaunce. |
| Yet saugh I Woodnesse laughynge in his rage, |
| Armed Compleint, Outhees, and fiers Outrage; |
1155 | The careyne in the busk with throte ycorve, |
| A thousand slayn, and nat of qualm ystorve, |
| The tiraunt with the pray by force yraft, |
| The toun destroyed, ther was nothyng laft. |
| Yet saugh I brent the shippes hoppesteres, |
1160 | The hunte strangled with the wilde beres, |
| The sowe freten the child right in the cradel, |
| The cook yscalded, for al his longe ladel. |
| Noght was foryeten by the infortune of Marte, |
| The cartere overryden with his carte, |
1165 | Under the wheel ful lowe he lay adoun. |
| Ther were also, of Martes divisioun, |
| The barbour, and the bocher, and the smyth |
| That forgeth sharpe swerdes on his styth. |
| And al above, depeynted in a tour, |
1170 | Saugh I Conquest sittynge in greet honour, |
| With the sharpe swerd over his heed |
| Hangynge by a soutil twyned threed. |
| Depeynted was the slaughtre of Julius, |
| Of grete Nero, and of Antonius; |
1175 | Al be that thilke tyme they were unborn, |
| Yet was hir deth depeynted ther-biforn |
| By manasynge of Mars, right by figure; |
| So was it shewed in that portreiture, |
| As is depeynted in the sterres above |
1180 | Who shal be slayn or elles deed for love. |
| Suffiseth oon ensample in stories olde, |
| I may nat rekene hem alle though I wolde. |
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| There saw I first the dark imagining |
| Of felony, and all the compassing; |
| And cruel anger, red as burning coal; |
1140 | Pickpurses, and the dread that eats the soul; |
| The smiling villain, hiding knife in cloak; |
| The farm barns burning, and the thick black smoke; |
| The treachery of murder done in bed; |
| The open battle, with the wounds that bled; |
1145 | Contest, with bloody knife and sharp menace; |
| And loud with creaking was that dismal place. |
| The slayer of himself, too, saw I there, |
| His very heart's blood matted in his hair; |
| The nail that's driven in the skull by night; |
1150 | The cold plague-corpse, with gaping mouth upright |
| In middle of the temple sat Mischance, |
| With gloomy, grimly woeful countenance. |
| And saw I Madness laughing in his rage; |
| Armed risings, and outcries, and fierce outrage; |
1155 | The carrion in the bush, with throat wide carved; |
| A thousand slain, nor one by plague, nor starved. |
| The tyrant, with the spoils of violent theft; |
| The town destroyed, in ruins, nothing left. |
| And saw I burnt the ships that dance by phares, |
1160 | The hunter strangled by the fierce wild bears; |
| The sow chewing the child right in the cradle; |
| The cook well scalded, spite of his long ladle. |
| Nothing was lacking of Mars' evil part: |
| The carter over-driven by his cart, |
1165 | Under a wheel he lay low in the dust. |
| There were likewise in Mars' house, as needs must, |
| The surgeon, and the butcher, and the smith |
| Who forges sharp swords and great ills therewith. |
| And over all, depicted in a tower, |
1170 | Sat Conquest, high in honour and in power, |
| Yet with a sharp sword hanging o'er his head |
| But by the tenuous twisting of a thread. |
| Depicted was the death of Julius, |
| Of Nero great, and of Antonius; |
1175 | And though at that same time they were unborn, |
| There were their deaths depicted to adorn |
| The menacing of Mars, in likeness sure; |
| Things were so shown, in all that portraiture, |
| As are fore-shown among the stars above, |
1180 | Who shall be slain in war or dead for love. |
| Suffice one instance from old plenitude, |
| I could not tell them all, even if I would. |
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