SUM.  Winter, with patience unto my grief
I have attended thy invective tale. 
So much untruth wit never shadowed: 
’Gainst her own bowels thou art’s weapons turn’st. 
Let none believe thee that will ever thrive. 
Words have their course, the wind blows where it lists,
He errs alone in error that persists. 
For thou ’gainst Autumn such exceptions tak’st,
I grant his overseer thou shalt be,
His treasurer, protector, and his staff;
He shall do nothing without thy consent: 
Provide thou for his weal and his content.

WIN.  Thanks, gracious lord; so I’ll dispose of him,
As it shall not repent you of your gift.

AUT.  On such conditions no crown will I take. 
I challenge Winter for my enemy;
A most insatiate, miserable carl,
That to fill up his garners to the brim
Cares not how he endamageth the earth,
What poverty he makes it to endure! 
He overbars the crystal streams with ice,
That none but he and his may drink of them: 
All for a foul Backwinter he lays up. 
Hard craggy ways, and uncouth slippery paths
He frames, that passengers may slide and fall. 
Who quaketh not, that heareth but his name? 
O, but two sons he hath worse than himself: 
Christmas the one, a pinchback, cutthroat churl,
That keeps no open house, as he should do,
Delighteth in no game or fellowship,
Loves no good deeds, and hateth talk;
But sitteth in a corner turning crabs,
Or coughing o’er a warmed pot of ale. 
Backwinter th’other, that’s his nown[123] sweet boy,
Who like his father taketh in all points. 
An elf it is, compact of envious pride,
A miscreant born for a plague to men;
A monster that devoureth all he meets. 
Were but his father dead, so he would reign,
Yea, he would go good-near to deal by him
As Nebuchadnezzar’s ungracious son,
Foul Merodach[124], by his father dealt: 
Who when his sire was turned to an ox
Full greedily snatch’d up his sovereignty,
And thought himself a king without control. 
So it fell out, seven years expir’d and gone,
Nebuchadnezzar came to his shape again,
And dispossess’d him of the regiment;[125]
Which my young prince, no little grieving at,
When that his father shortly after died,
Fearing lest he should come from death again,
As he came from an ox to be a man,
Will’d that his body, ’spoiled of coverture,
Should be cast forth into the open fields,
For birds and ravens to devour at will;
Thinking, if they bare, every one of them,
A bill-ful of his flesh into their nests,
He could not rise to trouble him in haste.

WILL SUM.  A virtuous son! and I’ll lay my life on’t he was a cavalier and a good fellow.[126]