Of salues and med’cines, which had passing priefe,
And thereto added words of wondrous might:
By which to ease he him recured briefe,
And much asswag’d the passion of his plight,
That he his paine endur’d, as seeming now more light.
But yet the cause and root of all his ill, xxv
Inward corruption, and infected sin,
Not purg’d nor heald, behind remained still,
And festring sore did rankle yet within,
Close creeping twixt the marrow and the skin.