And not so soone discend into the pit:
Where Death, when hee the mortall corps hath slayne,
With retchlesse hand in graue doth couer it,
Therafter neuer to enioy agayne
The gladsome light, but, in the ground ylayne,
In depth of darknesse wast and weare to nought,
As hee had nere[1539] into the world bene brought.
47.
But who had seene him, sobbing, how hee stoode,
Unto himselfe, and how hee would bemone