That fro the fifte cercle, in no manere,
10
Ne mighte a drope of teres doun escape.
But now so wepeth Venus in hir spere,
That with hir teres she wol drenche us here.
Allas, Scogan! this is for thyn offence!
Thou causest this deluge of pestilence.
15
Hast thou not seyd, in blaspheme of this goddes,
Through pryde, or through thy grete rakelnesse,