Description of Fortune

Fortune as blinde as he whom she doth lead, Her feature chaung'd each minute of the houre, Her riggish feete fantastically would tread: Now would she smile, and suddenly would lowre, And with one breath her words are sweete and sowre. Upon her foes she amorously doth glaunce, And on her followers coyly looke askaunce, About her necke (it seem'd as for a chaine) Some princes crownes and broken scepters hung. Upon her arme a lazie youth did leane, Which scornfully unto the ground she flung, And with a wanton grace passing alone, Great bags of gold from out her bosome drew, And to base pesants and fond idiots threw. A duskie vale, which hid her sightlesse eies Like cloudes, which cover our uncertaine lives, Painted about with bloodie tragedies, Fooles wearing crownes and wise men clog'd in gives. Now how she gives againe, how she deprives: In this blacke map this she her might discovers, In camps and courts, on souldiers, and on lovers.