Sonnet CLXIV:
I pity him, unhappy gentleman,
Whom chance or luckless fortune has conveyed
Into companionship with those who trade,
Who always cheat and pilfer when they can.
These vermin once my person overran,
And on my purse, my time, my patience preyed,
Esteeming virtue only as it paid,
Religion only as it hid a plan.
Ah! beasts, amongst your ignominious crew
I felt as one alone on Circe’s isle,
Wandering amazed amidst her changelings vile;
Or e’er the loathsome goddess met his view,
And with the glamor of her hellish guile
Into a swine transformed his nature too.
