Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/215

Rh

For ever is his soul a prey

To anxious care of how he may

Amass more wealth: this mad desire

Doth all his thought and actions fire,

Devising means whereby to stuff

His barns and coffers, for ‘enough’

He ne’er can have, but hungereth yet

His neighbours’ goods and gold to get.

It is as though for thirst he fain

Would quaff the volume of the Seine

At one full draught, and yet should fail

To find its waters of avail

To quench his longing. What distress,

What anguish, wrath, and bitterness

Devour the wretch! fell rage and spite

Possess his spirit day and night,

And tear his heart; the fear of want

Pursues him like a spectre gaunt.

The more he hath, a wider mouth

He opes, no draught can quench his drouth.

The lawyer likewise, and the leech,

One brush hath tarred them both, for each

Will eagerly for lucre sell

His soul, and both deserve right well

The gibbet. Such foul greed for gain

The one devoureth, that he fain

For one sick man would have two-score,

And t’other longs that thirty more

Were tacked to every cause he pleads;

Nay, multiplied by tens, their needs

Were yet unsatisfied, so bold

Their lust and hunger is for gold.