“Ther saw I, first, the derke imagining Of felonie, and alle the compassing; The cruel ire, red as any glede; The pikepurse; and eke the pale drede; The smiler, with the knif under the cloke; The shepen brenning, with the blake smoke; The treson of the mordring in the bedde; The open werre, with woundes all bebledde; Conteke, with blody knif and sharp menace: All full of chirking was that sory place. The sleer of himself, yet, saw I there, His herte-blood hath bathed all his here, The naile ydriven in the shode anyght, The colde deth, with mouth gaping upright.” ↩