her self; the Path to her was strowed with Goads, Stings and Thorns; and her Throne on which she sat was broken into a Rock, with ragged Pieces pointing upwards for her to lean upon. A heavy Mist hung above her, her Head oppressed with it reclined upon her Arm: Thus did she reign over her disconsolate Subjects, full of her self to stupidity, in eternal Pensiveness, and the profoundest Silence. On one side of her stood
Dejection
just dropping into a Swoon, and
Paleness
wasting to a Skeleton; on the other side were
Care
inwardly tormented with Imaginations, and
Anguish
suffering outward
Troubles