And hence it is that we have to mourn for the homes of which we
have been unjustly robbed; and as to our coverings, not that they
have not been given to us, but that the coverings anciently given
to us have been torn by violent hands, insomuch that our soul is
bowed down to the dust, our belly cleaveth unto the earth. We
suffer from various diseases, enduring pains in our backs and
sides; we lie with our limbs unstrung by palsy, and there is no
man who layeth it to heart, and no man who provides a mollifying
plaster. Our native whiteness that was clear with light has
turned to dun and yellow, so that no leech who should see us
would doubt that we are diseased with jaundice. Some of us are
suffering from gout, as our twisted extremities plainly show.
The smoke and dust by which we are continuously plagued have
dulled the keenness of our visual rays, and are now infecting our
bleared eyes with ophthalmia. Within we are devoured by the
fierce gripings of our entrails, which hungry worms cease not to
gnaw, and we undergo the corruption of the two Lazaruses, nor is
there anyone to anoint us with balm of cedar, nor to cry to us
who have been four days dead and already stink, Lazarus come
forth! No healing drug is bound around our cruel wounds, which
are so atrociously inflicted upon the innocent, and there is none
to put a plaster upon our ulcers; but ragged and shivering we are
flung away into dark corners, or in tears take our place with
holy Job upon his dunghill, or--too horrible to relate--are
buried in the depths of the common sewers.
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