And from his eyelids fell the heavy tears.
His little son, that was three years of age,
Cried unto him, "O father, will they bring
Our dinner? Father, give me food, I die."
And so he cried and wept thus day by day,
Till at the last, within his father's arms
He lay and died. The father all distraught
Began to bite his arms and gnaw his hands,
And rail on Fortune for her cruel deed.
His children thinking that for hunger he
Thus bit his flesh, said to him, "Eat of us.
Thou gavest us life, take thou that life again."
Yet they ere ever many days were sped,
Lay down within his arms and breathed their last.
Himself, bereft of all, of hunger died,
Cast to such doom from fortune's high estate.
If you would further read of all this tale,
Go look to Dante, for he will not fail.

HOLOFERNES

Never did captain, servant of a king,
Subdue in battle kingdoms more and great,
Nor more prevail in the fierce shock of fight,
Nor win from all his age more high renown,
Than did great Holofernes. Fortune blest
His steps, and led him up the steep of fame,
Till suddenly he fell and lost his life,
Ere yet he wist that danger threatened him.
Not for the loss of life and wealth alone