415Whose towers bore heads so high they kist the clowds,

416And strangers nere beheld, but wondred at,

417Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'de,

418Like one anothers glasse to trim them by,

419Their tables were stor'de full to glad the sight,

420And not so much to feede on as delight,

421All pouertie was scor'nde, and pride so great,

422The name of helpe grewe odious to repeat.

423Dion. O t'is too true.

424Cle. But see what heauen can doe by this our change,

425These mouthes who but of late, earth, sea, and ayre,

426Were all too little to content and please,

427Although thy gaue their creatures in abundance,

428As houses are defil'de for want of vse,

429They are now staru'de for want of exercise,

430Those pallats who not yet too sauers younger,

431Must haue inuentions to delight the tast,

432Would now be glad of bread and beg for it,

433Those mothers who to nouzell vp their babes,

434Thought nought too curious, are readie now

435To eat those little darlings whom they lou'de,

436So sharpe are hungers teeth, that man and wife,

437Drawe lots who first shall die, to lengthen life.

438Heere stands a Lord, and there a Ladie weeping:

439Heere manie sincke, yet those which see them fall,

440Haue scarce strength left to giue them buryall.

441 Is not this true?

442Dion. Our cheekes and hollow eyes doe witnesse it.

443Cle. O let those Cities that of plenties cup,

444And her prosperities so largely taste,

445With their superfluous riots heare these teares,

446The miserie of Tharsus may be theirs.

448Lord. Wheres the Lord Gouernour?

449Cle. Here, speake out thy sorrowes, which thee bringst