Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/49

The falseness of Hypocrisy Popeholy was the name she bore,
And on her face a mask she wore
Of righteousness, for her great care
It is to take men unaware,
And play them some base, shameful trick.
On first acquaintance is she quick
To waken pity by her sad
And simple piteous look, beclad420
With simple, sweet, and saintly seeming;
But in this world no evil deeming
Exists, that rolls not through her brain.
The painting gave to her amain.
Kind, gentle semblance; debonair
And simple all her features were.
And both her pose and raiment done
In guise of some good convent nun.
A psalter held she in her hand.
As though the throne of God she fanned420
With holy prayers, and saints invoked:
But never laughed she, smiled nor joked.
Good works pretendeth she to do.
As though nought else did she pursue
Since first she donned the shirt of hair.
Her wretched body, lean and spare.
All bloodless looked and deadly white,
Through daily fest and sleepless night.
For her, and those who share her lot,
The gate of Paradise I wot
Ne’er openeth, for the Gospel says:
They fast and make long prayers for praise
Of men, and thus they cast away
God’s Kingdom at the dooming day.