And since time suits me now to wait,
I put away the softer style
Proper to love; rhyme subtle and severe
Shall tell how Nobleman's estate
Is won by worth, hold false and vile
The judgment that from wealth derives a Peer.
First calling on that Lord
Who dwells within her eyes,
Containing whom, my Lady learnt
Herself to love and prize.
One raised to Empire held,
As far as he could see,
Descent of wealth, and generous ways,
To make Nobility.
Another, lightly wise,
That saying turned aside,
Perchance for want of generous ways
The second source denied.
And followers of him
Are all the men who rate
Those noble in whose families
The wealth has long been great.
And so long among us
The falsehood has had sway,
That men call him a Nobleman,
Though worthless, who can say.
I nephew am, or son,
Of one worth such a sum;
But he who sees the Truth may know
How vile he has become
To whom the Truth was shown,
Who from the Truth has fled,
And though he walks upon the earth
Is counted with the dead:
Whoever shall define
The man a living tree
Will speak untruth and less than truth,
Though more he may not see.
The Emperor so erred;
First set the false in view,
Proceeding, on the other side,
To what was less than true.