Of Blyndnesse. The .xcvi. Dialogue.
I Haue lost myne eyes.
O howe many loathsome thynges of lyfe also hast thou lost? Howe many foolyshe toyes of fonde sight shalt thou not see?
I haue lost myne eyes.
Of the face perhaps, not of thine hart. If they remayne good enough, al is wel.
I am blynde.
Thou shalt see the sunne no more, but thou hast seene it, and thou remembrest what manner thyng it is: or yf thou hast not seene it, as it hath chaunced vnto thee the more hardly in that respect, so the desire of a thing vnknowen, shal greeue thee ye lesse.
I lacke eyes.
Thou shalt not see heauen nor earth, but to see the Lord of heauen and of earth, abilitie is not ta∣ken from thee: this sight is much clearer then that other.
I am condemned to perpetual blyndnesse.
Thou shalt not see from hencefoorth the wooddie valleyes, the ayeriall mountaynes, the florishyng costes, the shadowy dennes, the siluer sprynges, the crooked ryuers, the greene meddowes, and that whiche they say is of al thynges most beautiful, the portraiture of mans countenance. Thou shalt neyther see the heapes of dunge, the ouerflowyng Iakes, torne carkases, nor whatsoeuer els by filthinesse of sight offendeth the stomacke and senses.
I am depriued of myne eye sight.
If there were none other commoditie in this discommoditie, in that thou shalt not beholde these games of enormious and deformed ie∣stures, blindnesse were to be wyshed: whiche although I haue oftentymes confessed before to be a wyshed thyng, yet doo I deny that it is to be wyshed, for as muche now, as in tymes past, there is no hope left thee to runne away: whyther soeuer thou turnest thy selfe, the kyngdome of madnesse is a lyke, and a like exile of vertue: in whiche state to lose a mans eye sight, is a kind of flight & comforte.
I haue lost my sight.