Her name was _Enuie_, knowen well thereby; xxxi Whose nature is to grieue, and grudge at all, That euer she sees doen prays-worthily, Whose sight to her is greatest crosse, may fall, And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall. For when she wanteth other thing to eat, She feedes on her owne maw vnnaturall, And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat; Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat. And if she hapt of any good to heare, xxxii That had to any happily betid, Then would she inly fret, and grieue, and teare Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid: But if she heard of ill, that any did, Or harme, that any had, then would she make Great cheare, like one vnto a banquet bid; And in anothers losse great pleasure take, As she had got thereby, and gayned a great stake. The other nothing better was, then shee; xxxiii Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd, But in bad maner they did disagree: For what so _Enuie_ good or bad did fynd, She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd; But this, what euer euill she conceiued, Did spred abroad, and throw in th’open wynd. Yet this in all her words might be perceiued, That all she sought, was mens good name to haue bereaued. For what soeuer good by any sayd, xxxiv Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes inuent, How to depraue, or slaunderously[395] vpbrayd, Or to misconstrue of a mans intent, And turne to ill the thing, that well was ment. Therefore she vsed often to resort, To common haunts, and companies frequent, To hearke what any one did good report, To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked sort. And if that any ill she heard of any, xxxv She would it eeke, and make much worse by telling, And take great ioy to publish it to many, That euery matter worse was for her melling. Her name was hight _Detraction_, and her dwelling Was neare to _Enuie_, euen her neighbour next; A wicked hag, and _Enuy_ selfe excelling In mischiefe: for her selfe she onely vext; But this same both her selfe, and others eke perplext. Her face was vgly, and her mouth distort, xxxvi Foming with poyson round about her gils, In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short Appear’d like Aspis sting, that closely kils, Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils: A distaffe in her other hand she had, Vpon the which she litle spinnes, but spils, And faynes to weaue false tales and leasings bad, To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad.