Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/43

Rh

And when outworn, her soul doth rue,

Sorely, the cost to purchase new,

But grievously the pinch of cold

Will suffer ere she spends her gold.

With greedy clutch doth Avarice hide

Her purse, which ne’er she openeth wide.

But keeps the strings drawn close and tight,

Consumed with jealous fear lest light

Her coin should see. Alas! but small

Delight doth hence to her befall,

For ne’er from out that purse would she

Spend one poor penny willingly.

Beside her, sad-eyed Envy stood,

Who smileth never. Nothing good

To her doth seem, and nought can cheer

Her soul to joy, or please her ear,

Except it be some evil hap

Befalls, the happiness to sap

Of worthy men, that only she

Heareth or looks on joyfully.

But if perchance some lineage great

Cast down should be from fair estate,

Above all else such case I deem

Would raise her soul to joy supreme.

Should some good man perchance arise

To honour great, within her dies

Her heart; but marvellous delight

Awakes therein when hate and spite

Spur men to wrath. Such rancour grows

Within her breast, that ne’er she shows