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Till Fraud arose, his lance in rest,

And Crime and Evil-Hap confessed

Stood, foes of sweet sufficiency.

Then Pride, who scorns to equal be

With others, came in grand estate

With Covetousness, and hideous Hate,

And Envy dire, and Avarice,

And many another foul-faced vice.

And Poverty from hell they brought,

Who there had long-time lived, and nought

Men knew her on the happy earth,

Till now new-born, ah! woeful birth!

Wherefore, alas! came she at all?

Worst evil that can man befall.

Drear Poverty, of wit bereft,

Led by the hand her infant, Theft,

Who to the gibbet goes straightway,

Seeking his mother’s needs to stay.

All powerless she to take his part,

As eke his sire, y’clept Faint-Heart;

Nor doth for him aught good provide

Laverna, of all thieves the guide

And goddess, who with cloud and night

Conceals their evil deeds, till light

At last discovers them; and when

They’re haled before their fellow-men,

No pitying eye doth she afford,

Seeing around their necks the cord

Fast tied, but gaily pulls it tight

When penitence they’ve made aright.

Suddenly these mad fiends accurst

(When once they hell’s dread bounds had burst),