415Who
se towers bore heads
so high they ki
st the clowds,
¶And
strangers nere beheld, but wondred at,
¶Who
se men and dames
so jetted and adorn'de,
¶Like one anothers gla
sse to trim them by,
¶Their tables were
stor'de full to glad the
sight,
420And not
so much to feede on as delight,
¶All pouertie was
scor'nde, and pride
so great,
¶The name of helpe grewe odious to repeat.
¶Cle. But
see what heauen can doe by this our change,
425The
se mouthes who but of late, earth,
sea, and ayre,
¶Were all too little to content and plea
se,
¶Although thy gaue their creatures in abundance,
¶As hou
ses are defil'de for want of v
se,
¶They are now
staru'de for want of exerci
se,
430Tho
se pallats who not yet too
sauers younger,
¶Mu
st haue inuentions to delight the ta
st,
¶Would now be glad of bread and beg for it,
¶Tho
se mothers who to nouzell vp their babes,
¶Thought nought too curious, are readie now
435To eat tho
se little darlings whom they lou'de,
¶So
sharpe are hungers teeth, that man and wife,
¶Drawe lots who fir
st
shall die, to lengthen life.
¶Heere
stands a Lord, and there a Ladie weeping
:
¶Heere manie
sincke, yet tho
se which
see them fall,
440Haue
scarce
strength left to giue them buryall.
¶Dion. Our cheekes and hollow eyes doe witne
sse it.
¶Cle. O let tho
se Cities that of plenties cup,
¶And her pro
sperities
so largely ta
ste,
445With their
superfluous riots heare the
se teares,
¶The mi
serie of
Tharsus may be theirs.
¶Lord. Wheres the Lord Gouernour?
¶Cle. Here,
speake out thy
sorrowes, which thee bring
st
