Where one stood peeping through a creuis small,
To whom I cald aloud, halfe angry therewithall.
That was to weet the Porter of the place, xii
Vnto whose trust the charge thereof was lent:
His name was Doubt, that had a double face,
Th’one forward looking, th’other backeward bent,
Therein resembling Ianus auncient,
Which hath in charge the ingate of the yeare:
And euermore his eyes about him went,
As if some proued perill he did feare,