<< For she is in so greet turment And hath such [wo], whan folk doth good, 275 That nigh she melteth for pure wood; Hir herte kerveth and to-breketh That god the peple wel awreketh. Envye, y-wis, shal never lette Som blame upon the folk to sette. 280 I trowe that if Envye, y-wis, Knewe the beste man that is On this syde or biyond the see, Yit somwhat lakken him wolde she. And if he were so hende and wys, 285 That she ne mighte al abate his prys, Yit wolde she blame his worthinesse, Or by hir wordes make it lesse. I saugh Envye, in that peynting, Hadde a wonderful loking; 290 For she ne loked but awry, Or overthwart, al baggingly. And she hadde [eek] a foul usage; She mighte loke in no visage Of man or womman forth-right pleyn, 295 But shette oon yë for disdeyn; >> Car ele est en si grant torment, Et a tel duel quant gens bien font, Par ung petit qu'ele ne font. Ses felons cuers l'art et detrenche, Qui de li Diex et la gent venche. Envie ne fine nule hore D'aucun blasme as gens metre sore; Je cuit que s'ele cognoissoit Tot le plus prodome qui soit 270 Ne deçà mer, ne delà mer, Si le vorroit-ele blasmer; Et s'il iere si bien apris Qu'el ne péust de tot son pris Rien abatre ne deprisier, Si vorroit-ele apetisier Sa proéce au mains, et s'onor Par parole faire menor. Lors vi qu'Envie en la painture Avoit trop lede esgardéure; 280 Ele ne regardast noient Fors de travers en borgnoiant; Ele avoit ung mauvès usage, Qu'ele ne pooit où visage Regarder reins de plain en plaing, Ains clooit ung oel par desdaing, << So for envye brenned she Whan she mighte any man [y]-see, That fair, or worthy were, or wys, Or elles stood in folkes prys. 300 SOROWE was peynted next Envye SOROWE. Upon that walle of masonrye. But wel was seen in hir colour That she hadde lived in langour; Hir semed have the Iaunyce. 305 Nought half so pale was Avaryce, Nor no-thing lyk, [as] of lenesse; For sorowe, thought, and greet distresse, That she hadde suffred day and night Made hir ful yelwe, and no-thing bright, 310 Ful fade, pale, and megre also. Was never wight yit half so wo As that hir semed for to be, Nor so fulfilled of ire as she. I trowe that no wight mighte hir plese, 315 Nor do that thing that mighte hir ese; Nor she ne wolde hir sorowe slake, Nor comfort noon unto hir take;