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7/15/2025, 12:06:13 PM
>And greedy Avarice by him did ride,
>Upon a Camell loaden all with gold;
>Two iron coffers hong on either side,
>With precious mettall full as they might hold;
>And in his lap an heape of coine he told;
>For of his wicked pelfe his God he made,
>And unto hell him selfe for money sold;
>Accursed usurie was all his trade,
>And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.
>His life was nigh unto deaths doore yplast,
>And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware,
>Ne scarse good morsell all his life did tast,
>But both from backe and belly still did spare,
>To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;
>Yet chylde ne kinsman living had he none
>To leave them to; but thorough daily care
>To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,
>He led a wretched life unto him selfe unknowne.
>Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,
>Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,
>Whose need had end, but no end covetise,
>Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him pore,
>Who had enough, yet wished ever more;
>A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand
>A grievous gout tormented him full sore,
>That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand;
>Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band.
>Upon a Camell loaden all with gold;
>Two iron coffers hong on either side,
>With precious mettall full as they might hold;
>And in his lap an heape of coine he told;
>For of his wicked pelfe his God he made,
>And unto hell him selfe for money sold;
>Accursed usurie was all his trade,
>And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.
>His life was nigh unto deaths doore yplast,
>And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware,
>Ne scarse good morsell all his life did tast,
>But both from backe and belly still did spare,
>To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;
>Yet chylde ne kinsman living had he none
>To leave them to; but thorough daily care
>To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,
>He led a wretched life unto him selfe unknowne.
>Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,
>Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,
>Whose need had end, but no end covetise,
>Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him pore,
>Who had enough, yet wished ever more;
>A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand
>A grievous gout tormented him full sore,
>That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand;
>Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band.
7/13/2025, 4:57:06 AM
>>24544552
>Here haue I cause, in men iust blame to find,
>That in their proper prayse too partiall bee,
>And not indifferent to woman kind,
>To whom no share in armes and cheualrie
>They do impart, ne maken memorie
>Of their braue gestes and prowesse martiall;
>Scarse do they spare to one or two or three,
>Rowme in their writs; yet the same writing small
>Does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all.
>Here haue I cause, in men iust blame to find,
>That in their proper prayse too partiall bee,
>And not indifferent to woman kind,
>To whom no share in armes and cheualrie
>They do impart, ne maken memorie
>Of their braue gestes and prowesse martiall;
>Scarse do they spare to one or two or three,
>Rowme in their writs; yet the same writing small
>Does all their deeds deface, and dims their glories all.
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