Inviting the Proud—to their prodigal chear.
Thus she liv’d, ever patient and ever contented,
’Till Envy the Lord of the Castle possess’d,
For he hated that Poverty should be so chearful,
While care could the fav’rites of Fortune molest;
He sent his bold yeomen with threats to prevent her,
And still would she carol her sweet roundelay;
At last, an old Steward, relentless he sent her—
Who bore her, all trembling, to Prison away!
Three weeks did she languish, then died, broken hearted,