place. The slayer of himself eke saw I there, His heartë-blood had bathed all his hair: The nail y-driven in the shode at night, The coldë death, with mouth gaping upright. Amiddës of the temple sat Mischance, With discomfórt and sorry countenance; Eke saw I Woodness laughing in his rage, Armed Complaint, Outhees, and fierce Outrage; The carrain in the bush, with throat y-corve, A thousand slain, and not of qualm y-storve; The tyrant, with the prey by force y-reft; The town destroy’d, that there was nothing left. Yet saw I brent the shippës hoppësteres, The hunter strangled with the wildë bears: The sow freting the child right in the cradle; The cook scalded, for all his longë ladle. Nor was forgot, by th’ infortune of Mart The carter overridden with his cart; Under the wheel full low he lay adown. There were also of Mars’ division, The armourer, the bowyer, and the smith, That forgeth sharpë swordës on his stith. And all above depainted in a tower Saw I Conquest, sitting in great honoúr, With thilkë sharpë sword over his head Hanging by a subtle y-twined thread. Painted the slaughter was of Julius, Of cruel Nero, and Antonius: Although at that time they were yet unborn, Yet was their death depainted there beforn, By menacing of Mars, right by figúre, So was it showed in that portraitúre, As is depainted in the stars above, Who shall be slain, or ellës dead for love. Sufficeth one ensample in stories old, I may not reckon them all, though I wo’ld.
The statue of Mars upon a cartë stood Armed, and looked grim as he were wood, And over his head there shonë two figúres Of starrës, that be cleped in scriptures, That one Puella, that other Rubeus. This god of armës was arrayed thus: A wolf there stood before him at his feet With eyen red, and of a man he eat: With subtle pencil painted was this story, In redouting of Mars and of his glory.
Now to the temple of Dian the chaste As shortly as I can I will me haste, To tellë you all the descriptioun. Depainted be the wallës up and down Of hunting and of shamefast chastity. There saw I how woful Calistope, When that Dian aggrieved was with her, Was turned from a woman till a