Chapter VI: Part 6

Reson I seigh soothly
Sewen alle beestes,
In etynge, in drynkynge,
And in engendrynge of kynde;
And after cours of concepcion,
Noon took kepe of oother
As whan thei hadde ryde in rotey tyme, 7250
Anoon right therafter
Males drowen hem to males
A-morwenynges by hemselve,
And in evenynges also
The males ben fro femelles.
Ther ne was cow ne cow-kynde
That conceyved hadde,
That wolde belwe after boles,
Ne boor after sowe;
Bothe hors and houndes, 7260
And alle othere beestes,
Medled noght with hir makes
That with fole were.

Briddes I biheld
{223}
That in buskes made nestes,
Hadde nevere wye wit
To werche the leeste.
I hadde wonder at whom
And wher the pye lerned
To legge the stikkes 7270
In whiche she leyeth and bredeth.
Ther nys wrighte, as I wene,
Sholde werche hir nestes to paye;
If any mason made a molde therto,
Muche wonder it were.

Ac yet me merveilled moore,
How many othere briddes
Hidden and hileden
Hir egges ful derne
In mareys and moores, 7280
For men sholde hem noght fynde;
And hidden hir egges,
Whan thei therfro wente,
For fere of othere foweles,
And for wilde beestes.

And some troden hir makes,
And on trees bredden,
And broughten forth hir briddes so
Al above the grounde;
And some briddes at the bile 7290
Thorugh brethyng conceyved;
And some caukede; and took kepe
How pecokkes bredden.
Muche merveilled me
What maister hem made,
And who taughte hem on trees
To tymbre so heighe,
Ther neither burn ne beest
{224}
May hir briddes rechen.

And sithen I loked upon the see, 7300
And so forth upon the sterres;
Manye selkouthes I seigh,
Ben noght to seye nouthe.

I seigh floures in the fryth,
And hir faire colours;
And how among the grene gras
Growed so manye hewes,
And some soure and some swete,
Selkouth me thoughte;
Of hir kynde and hir colour 7310
To carpe it were to longe.

Ac that moost meved me
And my mood chaunged,
That Reson rewarded
And ruled alle beestes,
Save man and his make;
Many tyme and ofte
No reson hem folwede.
And thanne I rebukede
Reson, and right 7320
Til hymselven I seyde:
"I have wonder of thee," quod I,
"That witty art holden,
Why thow ne sewest man and his make,
That no mysfeet hem folwe."

And Reson a-rated me,
And seide, "Recche thee nevere;
Why I suffre or noght suffre,
Thiself hast noght to doone.
Amende thow it, if thow myght, 7330
For my tyme is to abide.
Suffraunce is a soverayn vertue,
{225}
And a swift vengeance.
Who suffrede moore than God?" quod he;
"No gome, as I leeve.
He myghte amende in a minute while
Al that mys-standeth;
Ac he suffreth for som mannes goode,
And so it is oure bettre,
The wise and the witty 7340
Wroot thus in the Bible:
_De re quæ te non molestat, noli certare._

"For be a man fair or foul, =
It falleth noght for to lakke
The shap ne the shaft
That God shoop hymselve;
For al that he dide was wel y-do,
As holy writ witnesseth:
_Et vidit Deus cuncta quæ fecerat, et 7350
erant valde bona._

"And bad every creature
In his kynde encreesse;
Al to murthe with man,
That moste wo tholie
In fondynge of the flessh,
And of the fend bothe.
For man was maad of swich a matere,
He may noght wel a-sterte
That ne som tyme hym bitit 7360
To folwen his kynde.
Caton a-cordeth therwith,
_Nemo sine crimine vivit._"

Tho caughte I colour anoon,
And comsed to ben ashamed,
And awaked therwith.
{226}
Wo was me thanne,
That I in metels ne myghte
Moore have y-knowen.
And thanne seide I to myself, 7370
And chidde that tyme,
"Now I woot what Do-wel is," quod I,
"By deere God! as me thynketh."

And as I caste up myne eighen,
Oon loked on me and asked
Of me, what thynge it were:
"Y-wis, sire," I seide,
"To se muche and suffre moore,
Certes," quod I, "is Do-wel."

"Haddestow suffred," he seide, 7380
"Slepynge tho thow were,
Thow sholdest have knowen that Clergie kan,
And contreved moore thorugh reson.
For Reson wolde have reherced thee
Right as Clergie seide.
Ac for thyn entre-metynge,
Here artow forsake.
_Philosophus esses, si tacuisses._

"Adam, whiles he spak noght,
Hadde paradis at wille; 7390
Ac whan he mamelede aboute mete,
And entre-metede to knowe
The wisedom and the wit of God,
He was put fram blisse.

"And right so ferde Reson bi thee;
Thow with thi rude speche
Lakkedest and losedest thyng
That longed the noght to doone.
Tho hadde he no likyng
For to lere the moore. 7400
{227}

"Pryde now and presumpcion
Peraventure wol thee appele,
That Clergie thi compaignye
Kepeth noght to suwe.
Shal nevere chalangynge ne chidynge
Chaste a man so soone,
As shal shame, and shenden hym,
And shape hym to amende.
For lat a dronken daffe
In a dyk falle, 7410
Lat hym ligge, loke noght on hym,
Til hym liste aryse.
For though Reson rebuked hym thanne,
It were but pure synne.
Ac whan nede nymeth hym up
For doute lest he sterve,
And shame shrapeth hise clothes,
And hise shynes wassheth.
Thanne woot the dronken daffe
Wherfore he is to blame." 7420

"Ye siggen sooth," quod I;
"Ich have y-seyen it ofte,
Ther smyt no thyng so smerte,
Ne smelleth so soure,
As shame, there he sheweth hym;
For every man hym shonyeth.
Why ye wisse me thus," quod I,
"Was for I rebuked Reson."

"Certes," quod he, "that is sooth;"
And shoop hym for to walken. 7430
And I aroos up right with that,
And folwed hym after,
And preyde hym of his curteisie
To telle me his name. 7434

* * * * *

{228}

_Passus Duodecimus, etc._

"Iam Ymaginatif," quod he, 7435
"Ydel was I nevere,
Though I sitte by myself,
In siknesse nor in helthe.
I have folwed thee, in feith!
Thise fyve and fourty wynter, 7440
And manye tymes have meved thee
To thynke on thyn ende,
And how fele fernyeres are faren,
And so fewe to come;
And of thi wilde wantownesse
Tho thow yong were,
To amende it in thi middel age,
Lest myght the failled
In thyn olde elde,
That yvele kan suffre 7450
Poverte or penaunce,
Or preyeres to bidde.
_Si non in prima vigilia, nec in secunda, etc._ =

"Amende thee, while thow myght;
Thow hast ben warned ofte
With poustees of pestilences,
With poverte and with angres;
{229}
And with thise bittre baleises
God beteth his deere children. 7460
_Quem diligo, castigo._

"And David in the Sauter seith
Of swiche that loveth Jhesus:
_Virga tua et baculus tuus ipsa me consolati sunt._ =

"Al though thow strike me with thi staf,
With stikke or with yerde,
It is but murthe as for me,
To amende my soule.
And thow medlest thee with makynges, 7470
And myghtest go seye thi Sauter,
And bidde for hem that gyveth thee breed,
For ther are bokes y-knowe
To telle men what Do-wel is,
Do-bet and Do-best bothe,
And prechours to preven what it is
Of many a peire freres."

I seigh wel he seide me sooth;
And som what me to excuse,
Seide Caton conforted me his sone, 7480
That clerk though he were,
To solacen hym som tyme,
As I do whan I make:
_Interpone tuis interdum gaudia curis._

"And of holy men I herde, quod I," =
"How thei outher while
Pleyden the parfiter,
To ben in manye places,
Ac if ther were any wight 7490
That wolde me telle
What were Do-wel and Do-bet
{230}
And Do-best at the laste,
Wolde I nevere do werk,
But wende to holi chirche,
And ther bidde my bedes,
But whan ich ete or slepe."

"Poul in his pistle," quod he,
"Preveth what is Do-wel:
_Fides, spes, caritas, et major horum, etc._ =
Feith, hope, and charité; 7502
And alle ben goode,
And saven men sondry tymes;
Ac noon so soone as charité.
For he dooth wel withouten doute,
That dooth as lewté techeth;
That is, if thow be man maryed,
Thi make thow lovye,
And lyve forth as lawe wole, 7510
While ye lyven bothe.

"Right so if thow be religious,
Ren thow nevere ferther
To Rome ne to Rochemador,
But as thi rule techeth;
And hold thee under obedience,
That heigh wey is to hevene.

"And if thow be maiden to marye,
And myght wel continue,
Seke thow nevere seint ferther 7520
For no soule helthe.
For what made Lucifer
To lese the heighe hevene?
Or Salomon his sapience,
Or Sampson his strengthe?
Job the Jew his joye
{231}
Ful deere a-boughte;
Aristotle and othere mo,
Ypocras and Virgile;
Alisaundre, that al wan, 7530
Elengliche ended.
Catel and kynde wit
Was combraunce to hem alle.

"Felice hir fairnesse
Fel hire al to sclaundre;
And Rosamounde right so,
Reufulliche to bileve,
The beauté of hir body
In baddenesse she despended.
Of manye swiche I may rede, 7540
Of men and of wommen,
That wise wordes wolde shewe,
And werche the contrarie.
_Sunt homines nequam bene de virtute loquentes._ =

"And riche renkes right so
Gaderen and sparen,
And tho men that thei moost haten
Mynistren it at the laste.
And for thei suffren and see 7550
So manye nedy folkes,
And love hem noght as oure Lord bit,
Thei lesen hir soules.
_Date et dabitur vobis._

"And richesse right so,
But if the roote be trewe.
Ac grace is a gras therof
Tho grevaunces to abate.
Ac grace ne groweth noght
But amonges lowe; 7560
{232}
Pacience and poverte
The place highte ther it groweth,
And in lele lyvynge men,
And in lif holy,
And thorugh the gifte of the Holy Goost,
As the Gospel telleth.
_Spiritus ubi vult spirat._

"Clergie and kynde wit
Cometh of sighte and techyng;
As the book bereth witnesse 7570
To burnes that kan rede.
_Quod scimus loquimur, quod vidimus testamur._ =

"Of _quod scimus_ cometh clergie
And konnynge of hevene;
And of _quod vidimus_ cometh kynde wit,
Of sighte of diverse peple.
Ac grace is a gifte of God,
And of greet love spryngeth;
Knew nevere clerk how it cometh forth, 7580
Ne kynde wit the weyes.
_Nescit aliquis unde venit, aut quo vadit, etc._ =

"Ac yet is clergie to comende,
And kynde wit bothe;
And namely clergie, for Cristes love
That of clergie is roote.
For Moyses witnesseth that God wroot
For to wisse the peple
In the olde lawe, as the lettre telleth, 7590
That was the lawe of Jewes,
That what womman were in avoutrye taken,
Were she riche or poore,
With stones men sholde hir strike,
{233}
And stone hire to dethe.

"A womman, as I fynde,
Was gilty of that dede.
Ac Crist of his curteisie
Thorugh clergie hir saved;
And thorugh caractes that Crist wroot, 7600
The Jewes knewe hemselve
Giltier as a-fore God,
And gretter in synne,
Than the womman that there was,
And wenten awey for shame.

"The clergie that there was,
Conforted the womman.
Holy kirke knoweth this,
That Cristes writyng saved hire.
So clergie is confort 7610
To creatures that repenten,
And to mansede men
Meschief at hire ende.

"For Goddes body myghte noght ben
Of breed, withouten clergie;
The which body is bothe
Boote to the rightfulle,
And deeth and dampnacion
To hem that deyeth yvele,
As Cristes caracte confortede, 7620
And bothe coupable shewed,
The womman that the Jewes broughte,
That Jhesus thoughte to save.
_Nolite judicare, et non judicabimini._
Right so Goddes body, bretheren,
But if it be worthili taken,
Dampneth us at the day of dome,
{234}
As the caractes dide the Jewes.

"For-thi I counseille thee, for Cristes sake,
Clergie that thow lovye. 7630
For kynde wit is of his kyn,
And neighe cosynes bothe
To oure Lord, leve me;
For-thi love hem, I rede.
For bothe ben as mirours
To amenden oure defautes,
And lederes for lewed men
And for lettred bothe.

"For-thi lakke thow nevere logik,
Lawe ne hise custumes; 7640
Ne countreplede clerkes,
I counseille thee for evere.
For as a man may noght see,
That mysseth hise eighen;
Na-moore kan no clerk,
But if he caughte it first thorugh bokes.
Al though men made bokes,
God was the maister,
And seint spirit the samplarie,
And seide what men sholde write. 7650

"Right so ledeth lettrure
Lewed men to reson;
And as a blynd man in bataille
Bereth wepne to fighte,
And hath noon hap with his ax
His enemy to hitte,
Na-moore kan a kynde witted man,
But clerkes hym teche,
Come for al his kynde wit
To cristendom, and be saved. 7660
{235}
Which is the cofre of Cristes tresor,
And clerkes kepe the keyes
To unloken it at hir likyng,
And to the lewed peple
Gyve mercy for hire mysdedes,
If men it wolde aske
Buxomliche and benigneliche,
And bidden it of Grace.

"_Archa Dei_ in the olde lawe
Levytes it kepten; 7670
Hadde nevere lewed man leve
To leggen hond on that cheste,
But he were preest or preestes sone,
Patriark or prophete.
For clergie is kepere
Under Crist of hevene.
Was ther nevere no knyght,
But clergie hym made.
Ac kynde wit cometh
Of alle kynnes syghtes, 7680
Of briddes and of beestes,
Of tastes of truthe and of deceites.

"Lyveris to-forn us
Useden to marke
For selkouthes that thei seighen,
Hir sones for to teche;
And helden it an heigh science
Hir wittes to knowe.
Ac thorugh hir science soothly
Was nevere no soule y-saved, 7690
Ne broght by hir bokes
To blisse ne to joye;
For alle hir kynde knowynges
Come but of diverse sightes.
{236}

"Patriarkes and prophetes
Repreveden hir science,
And seiden hir wordes and hir wisdomes
Nas but a folye;
And to the clergie of Crist
Counted it but a trufle. 7700
_Sapientia hujus mundi stultitia est apud Deum._ =

"For the heighe Holy Goost
Hevene shal to-cleve,
And love shall lepen out after
Into the lowe erthe;
And clennesse shal cacchen it,
And clerkes shullen it fynde.
_Pastores loquebantur ad invicem._

"He speketh there of riche men right noght, 7710
Ne of right witty,
Ne of lordes that were lewed men,
But of the hyeste lettred oute.
_Ibant magi ab oriente._

"If any frere were founde there,
I gyve thee fyve shillynges;
Ne in none burgeises cote
Was that barn born;
But in a burgeises place
Of Bethlem the beste. 7720
_Sed non erat ei locus in diversorio, et
pauper non habet diversorium._

"To pastours and to poetes
Appered the aungel,
And bad hem go to Bethlem
Goddes burthe to honoure;
And songe a song of solas,
_Gloria in excelsis Deo!_
{237}

"Clerkes knewen it wel,
And comen with hir presentz, 7730
And diden homage honurably
To hym that was almyghty.

"Why I have tolde al this,
I took ful good hede
How thow contrariedest Clergie
With crabbede wordes,
How that lewde men lightloker
Than lettrede were saved,
Than clerkes or kynde witted men
Of cristene peple; 7740
And thow seidest sooth of somme,
Ac se in what manere.

"Tak two stronge men,
And in Themese cast hem,
And bothe naked as a nedle,
Her noon sikerer than oother;
That oon hath konnynge and kan
Swymmen and dyven;
That oother is lewed of that labour,
That lerned nevere swymme; 7750
Which trowestow of tho two
That is in moost drede?
He that nevere ne dyved,
Ne noght kan of swymmyng?
Or the swymmere that is saaf
By so hymself like,
Ther his felawe fleteth forth
As the flood liketh,
And is in drede to drenche,
That nevere dide swymme?" 7760

"That swymme kan noght," I seide,
"It semeth to my wittes."
{238}

"Right so," quod the renk.
"Reson it sheweth,
That he that knoweth clergie
Kan sonner arise
Out of synne, and be saaf,
Though he synne ofte,
If hym liketh and lest,
Than any lewed leelly. 7770
For if the clerk be konnynge,
He knoweth what is synne,
And how contricion withoute confession
Conforteth the soule;
As thow seest in the Sauter,
In Salmes oon or tweyne,
How contricion is comended,
For it cacheth awey synne.
_Beati quorum remissæ sunt iniquitates,
et quorum tecta sunt, etc._ 7780

"And this conforteth ech a clerk,
And covereth hym fro wanhope.
In which flood the fend
Fondeth a man hardest.
Ther the lewed lith stille,
And loketh after lente,
And hath no contricion er he come to shrifte,
And thanne kan he litel telle,
But as his lores-man lereth hym
Bileveth and troweth; 7790
And that is after person or parissh preest,
The whiche ben peraventure
Unkonnynge to lere lewed men,
As Luc bereth witnesse:
_Dum cæcus ducit cæcum, etc._

"Wo was hym marked
{239}
That wade moot with the lewed!
Wel may the barn blesse that man
That hym to book sette,
That lyvynge after lettrure 7800
Saveth hym lif and soule.
_Dominus pars hereditatis meæ_,
Is a murye verset,
That hath take fro Tybourne
Twenty stronge theves;
Ther lewed theves ben lolled up,
Loke how thei be saved.

"The thef that hadde grace of God
On Good-friday, as thow spekest,
Was for he yald hym creaunt to Crist on the cros, 7810
And knewliched hym gilty,
And grace asked of God,
That to graunten it is redy
To hem that buxomliche biddeth it,
And ben in wille to amenden.
Ac though that theef hadde hevene,
He hadde noon heigh blisse,
As seint Johan and othere seintes
That deserved hadde bettre.

"Right as som man yeve me mete, 7820
And a-mydde the floor sette me,
And hadde mete moore than y-nough,
Ac noght so muche worshipe
As tho that seten at the syde table,
Or with the sovereynes of the halle;
But sete as a beggere bord-lees
By myself on the grounde.
So it fareth by that felon
{240}
That a Good-friday was saved.
He sit neither with seint Johan, 7830
Symond ne Jude,
Ne with maydenes ne with martires,
Confessours ne wydewes;
But by hymself as a soleyn,
And served on erthe.
For he that is ones a thef
Is evere moore in daunger,
And, as lawe liketh,
To lyve or to deye.
_De peccato propitiato, noli esse sine metu._ =
And for to serven a seint 7842
And swich a thef togideres,
It were neither reson ne right
To rewarde hem bothe y-liche.

"And right as Trojanus the trewe knyght
Dwelte noght depe in helle,
That oure Lord ne hadde hym lightly out,
So leve I the thef be in hevene.
For he is in the loweste of hevene, 7850
If oure bileve be trewe;
And wel loselly he lolleth there,
By the lawe of holy chirche.
_Qui reddit unicuique juxta opera sua, etc._ =

"And why that oon theef on the cros
Creaunt hym yald
Rather than that oother theef,
Though thow woldest appose,
Alle the clerkes under Crist 7860
Ne kouthe the skile assoille.
_Quare placuit, quia voluit._
{241}

"And so I seye by thee
That sekest after the whyes,
And a-resonedest Reson
A rebukynge as it were;
And of the floures in the fryth,
And of hire faire hewes,
Wherof thei cacche hir colours
So clere and so brighte; 7870
And willest of briddes and of beestes,
And of hir bredyng, to knowe,
Why some be a-lough and some a-loft,
Thi likyng it were;
And of the stones and of the sterres
Thow studiest, as I leve;
How evere beest outher brid
Hath so breme wittes.

"Clergie ne kynde wit
Ne knew nevere the cause; 7880
Ac kynde knoweth the cause hymself,
And no creature ellis.
He is the pies patron,
And putteth it in hir ere
There the thorn is thikkest
To buylden and brede.
And kynde kenned the pecok
To cauken in swich a kynde;
And kenned Adam
To knowe his pryvé membres, 7890
And taughte hym and Eve
To helien hem with leves.

"Lewed men many tymes
Maistres thei apposen,
Why Adam ne hiled noght first
His mouth that eet the appul,
{242}
Rather than his likame a-logh;
Lewed asken thus clerkes.

"Kynde knoweth whi he dide so,
Ac no clerk ellis, 7900
Ac of briddes and of beestes
Men by olde tyme
Ensamples token and termes,
As telleth the poetes;
And that the faireste fowel
Foulest engendreth,
And feblest fowel of flight is
That fleeth or swymmeth;
And that the pecok and the pehen
Proude riche men bitokneth; 7910
For the pecok, and men pursue hym,
May noght flee heighe,
For the trailynge of his tail
Overtaken is he soone,
And his flessh is foul flessh,
And his feet bothe,
And un-lovelich of ledene,
And looth for to here.

"Right so the riche,
If he his richesse kepe, 7920
And deleth it noght til his deeth-day,
The tail of alle sorwe
Right so as the pennes of the pecok
Peyneth hym in his flight.
So is possession peyne
Of pens and of nobles,
To alle hem that it holdeth,
Til hir tail be plukked.

"And though the riche repente thanne
And bi-rewe the tyme 7930
{243}
That evere he gadered so grete,
And gaf therof so litel;
Though he crye to Crist thanne
With kene wil, I leve,
His ledene be in oure Lordes ere
Like a pies chiteryng.
And whan his caroyne shal come
In cave to be buryed,
I leve it flawme ful foule
The fold al aboute, 7940
And alle the othere ther it lith
Envenymeth thorugh his attre.

"By the po feet is understande,
As I have lerned in Avynet,
Executours false frendes
That fulfille noght his wille
That was writen and thei witnesse
To werche right as it wolde.
Thus the poete preveth that the pecok
For hise fetheres is reverenced, 7950
Right so is the riche
By reson of hise goodes.

"The larke, that is a lasse fowel,
Is moore lovelich of ledene,
And wel a wey of wynge
Swifter than the pecok,
And of flessh by fele fold
Fatter and swetter;
To lowe libbynge men
The larke is resembled. 7960

"Aristotle the grete clerk
Swiche tales he telleth.
Thus he likneth in his logik
The leeste fowel oute,
{244}
And wheither he be saaf or noght saaf
The sothe woot no clergie,
Ne of Sortes ne of Salomon
No scripture kan telle.
Ac God is so good, I hope,
That siththe he gaf hem wittes 7970
To wissen us weyes therwith
That wissen us to be saved,
And the bettre for hir bokes
To bidden we ben holden,
That God for his grace
Gyve hir soules reste.
For lettred men were lewed men yet,
Ne were loore of hir bokes."

"Alle thise clerkes," quod I tho,
"That in Crist leven, 7980
Seyen in hir sermons
That neither Sarsens ne Jewes
Ne no creature of Cristes liknesse
Withouten cristendom worth saved."

"_Contra_," quod Ymaginatif thoo,
And comsed for to loure;
And seide "_Salvabitur
Vix justus in die judicii.
Ergo salvabitur_," quod he,
And seide na-moore Latyn. 7990

"Trojanus was a trewe knyght,
And took nevere Cristendom,
And he is saaf, so seith the book,
And his soule in hevene.
For ther is fullynge of font,
And fullynge in blood shedyng,
And thorugh fir is fullyng,
And that is ferme bileve.
{245}
_Advenit ignis divinus non comburens,
sed illuminans, etc._ 8000

"Ac Truthe that trespased nevere,
Ne traversed ayeins his lawe,
But lyveth as his lawe techeth,
And leveth ther be no bettre;
And if ther were, he wolde amende,
And in swich wille deieth,
Ne wolde nevere trewe god,
But truthe were allowed,
And wheither it be worth or noght worth,
The bileve is gret of truthe, 8010
And an hope hangynge therinne
To have a mede for his truthe.
For _Deus dicitur quasi dans vitam
æternam suis, hoc est fidelibus.
Et alibi: Si ambulavero in
medio umbræ mortis._

"The glose graunteth upon that vers
A greet mede to Truthe,
And wit and wisdom," quod that wye,
"Was som tyme tresor 8020
To kepe with a commune,
No catel was holde bettre,
And muche murthe and manhod;"
And right with that he vanysshed. 8024

* * * * *

{246}

_Passus Decimus Tertius, etc._

And I awaked therwith 8025
Wit-lees ner-hande,
And as a freke that fre were
Forth gan I walke
In manere of a mendinaunt
Many a yer after, 8030
And of this metyng many tyme
Muche thought I hadde.

First how Fortune me failed
At my mooste nede;
And how that Elde manaced me,
Myghte we evere mete;
And how that freres folwede
Folk that was riche,
And folk that was povere
At litel pris thei sette; 8040
And no corps in hir kirk-yerde
Nor in his kirk was buryed,
But quik he biquethe aught
To quyte with hir dettes;
And how this Coveitise over-com
Clerkes and preestes;
And how that lewed men ben lad,
But oure Lord hem helpe,
{247}
Thorugh un-konnynge curatours,
To incurable peynes. 8050

And how that Ymaginatif
In dremels me tolde
Of Kynde and of his konnynge,
And how curteis he is to bestes,
And how lovynge he is to briddes
On londe and on watre.
Leneth he no lif
Lasse ne moore.
The creatures that crepen
Of kynde ben engendred. 8060
And sithen how Ymaginatif seide,
_Vix salvabitur_;
And whan he hadde seid so,
How sodeynliche he passed.

I lay doun longe in this thoght,
And at the laste I slepte.
And as Crist wolde, ther com Conscience
To conforte me that tyme,
And bad me come to his court,
With Clergie sholde I dyne; 8070
And for Conscience of Clergie spak,
I com wel the rather.
And there I seigh a maister,
What man he was I nyste,
That lowe louted
And loveliche to Scripture.

Conscience knew hym wel,
And welcomed hym faire.
Thei wesshen and wipeden,
And wenten to the dyner. 8080
And Pacience in the paleis stood
In pilgrymes clothes,
{248}
And preyde mete _par charité_
For a povere heremyte.

Conscience called hym in,
And curteisliche seide,
"Welcome! wye; go and wasshe;
Thow shalt sitte soone."

This maister was maad sitte,
As for the mooste worthi. 8090
And thanne Clergie and Conscience
And Pacience cam after.

Pacience and I
Were put to be macches,
And seten bi oureselve
At the side borde.

Conscience called after mete;
And thanne cam Scripture,
And served hem thus soone
Of sondry metes manye, 8100
Of Austyn, of Ambrose,
And of the foure Euvangelistes,
_Edentis et bibentis quæ apud eos sunt._ =

Ac this maister nor his man
No maner flesshe eten;
Ac thei eten mete of moore cost,
Mortrews and potages
Of that men mys-wonne
Thei made hem wel at ese. 8110
Ac hir sauce was over sour,
And unsavourly grounde
In a morter _post mortem_
Of many a bitter peyne,
But if thei synge for tho soules,
And wepe salte teris.
{249}
_Vos qui peccata hominum comeditis,
nisi pro eis lacrimas et orationes
effunderitis, ea quæ in
deliciis comeditis, in tormentis 8120
evometis._

Conscience ful curteisly tho
Comaunded Scripture
Bifore Pacience breed to brynge
And me that was his macche.
He sette a sour loof to-forn us,
And seide, "_agite pænitentiam_."
"As longe," quod I, "as I lyve,
And lycame may dure."
"Here is propre service," quod Pacience, 8130
"Ther fareth no prince bettre,"

And thanne he broughte us forth a mees of oother mete,
Of _Miserere mei, Deus_,
And he broughte us of _Beati quorum_,
Of _Beatus-virres_ makyng.
_Et quorum tecta sunt peccata_ in a disshe,
Of derne shrifte _Dixi et confitebor tibi_.
"Bryng Pacience som pitaunce,"
Pryveliche quod Conscience.

And thanne hadde Pacience a pitaunce. 8140
_Pro hac orabit ad te omnis sanctus
in tempore oportuno._
And Conscience conforted us,
And carped us murye tales.
_Cor contritum et humiliatum Deus non despicies._ =
{250}

Pacience was proud
Of that propre service,
And made hym murthe with his mete;
Ac I mornede evere, 8150
For this doctour on the heighe dees
Drank wyn so faste.
_Væ vobis qui potentes estis ad bibendum vinum!_ =
He eet manye sondry metes,
Mortrews and puddynges,
Wombe-cloutes and wilde brawen,
And egges y-fryed with grece.

Thanne seide I to myself so
Pacience it herde, 8160
"It is noght foure dayes that this freke
Bifore the deen of Poules
Preched of penaunces
That Poul the apostle suffrede,
_In fame et frigore_
And flappes of scourges."
_Ter cæsus sum, et a Judeis quinquies
quadragenas, etc._

Ac o word thei over-huppen
At ech a tyme that thei preche, 8170
That Poul in his Pistle
To al the peple tolde:
_Periculum est in falsis fratribus._

Holi writ bit men be war,
I wol noght write it here
In Englisshe, on aventure
It sholde be reherced to ofte,
And greve therwith goode men,
Ac gramariens shul redde.
_Unusquisque a fratre se custodiat, 8180
{251}
quia, ut dicitur, periculum est
in falsis fratribus._

Ac I wiste nevere freke that as a frere yede
Bifore men on Englisshe
Taken it for his teme,
And telle it withouten glosyng.
They prechen that penaunce is
Profitable to the soule,
And what meschief and _male ese_
Crist for man tholede. 8190

"Ac this Goddes gloton," quod I,
"With hise grete chekes,
Hath no pité on us povere,
He perfourneth yvele;
That he precheth he preveth noght,"
To Pacience I tolde,
And wisshed ful witterly,
With wille ful egre,
That disshes and doublers
Bifore this ilke doctour 8200
Were molten leed in his mawe,
And Mahoun amyddes.
"I shal jangle to this jurdan
With his juste wombe,
To telle me what penaunce is,
Of which he preched rather."

Pacience perceyved what I thoughte,
And wynked on me to be stille,
And seide, "Thow shalt see thus soone,
Whan he may na-moore, 8210
He shal have a penaunce in his paunche,
{252}
And puffe at ech a worde;
And thanne shullen his guttes gothele,
And he shal galpen after.
For now he hath dronken so depe,
He wole devyne soone,
And preven it by hir Pocalips
And passion of seint Avereys,
That neither bacon ne braun,
Blancmanger ne mortrews, 8220
Is neither fissh nor flesshe,
But fode for a penaunt
And thanne shal he testifie of the Trinité,
And take his felawe to witnesse,
What he fond in a frayel,
After a freres lyvyng;
And but he first lyve be lesyng,
Leve me nevere after.
And thanne is tyme to take,
And to appose this doctour 8230
Of Do-wel and Do-bet,
And if Do-wel be any penaunce."

And I sat stille, as Pacience seide,
And thus soone this doctour,
As rody as a rose,
Rubbede hise chekes,
Coughed and carped;
And Conscience hym herde,
And tolde hym of a Trinité,
And toward us he loked. 8240

"What is Do-wel, sire doctour?" quod I,
"Is it any penaunce?"

"Do-wel," quod this doctour,
And took the cuppe and drank,
"Is do noon yvel to thyn even-cristen
{253}
Nought by thi power."

"By this day! sire doctour," quod I,
"Thanne be ye noght in Do-wel;
For ye han harmed us two,
In that ye eten the puddyng, 8250
Mortrews and oother mete,
And we no morsel hadde.
And if ye fare so in youre fermerye,
Ferly me thynketh,
But cheeste be ther charité sholde be.
And yonge children dorste pleyne,
I wolde permute my penaunce with youre,
For I am in point to Do-wel."

Thanne Conscience curteisly
A contenaunce made, 8260
And preynte upon Pacience
To preie me to be stille;
And seide hymself, "Sire doctour,
And it be youre wille,
What is Do-wel and Do-bet,
Ye dyvynours knoweth."

"Do-wel," quod this doctour,
"Do as clerkes techeth;
And Do-bet is he that techeth,
And travailleth to teche othere; 8270
And Do-best doth hymself so,
As he seith and precheth."
_Qui facit et docuerit, magnus vocabitur
in regno coelorum._

"Now thow, Clergie," quod Conscience,
"Carpest what is Do-wel.
I have sevene sones," he seide,
"Serven in a castel,
{254}
Ther the lord of lif wonyeth,
To leren what is Do-wel; 8280
Til I se tho sevene
And myself acorde,
I am un-hardy," quod he,
"To any wight to preven it.
For oon Piers the Plowman
Hath impugned us alle,
And set alle sciences at a sope,
Save love one;
And no text ne taketh
To mayntene his cause, 8290
But _Dilige Deum_,
And _Domine quis habitabit_.
And seith that Do-wel and Do-bet
Arn two infinités,
Whiche infinités, with a feith!
Fynden out Do-best,
Which shal save mannes soule;
Thus seith Piers the Plowman."

"I kan noght heron," quod Conscience,
"Ac I knowe wel Piers; 8300
He wol noght ayein holy writ speken,
I dar wel undertake.
Thanne passe we over til Piers come,
And preve this in dede.
Pacience hath be in many place,
And peraunter mouthed
That no clerk ne kan,
As Crist bereth witnesse:
_Patientes vincunt, etc._"

"Ac youre preiere," quod Pacience tho, 8310
"So no man displese hym.
_Disce_," quo he, "_Doce_,
{255}
_Dilige inimicos_.
_Disce_, and Do-wel;
_Doce_, and Do-bet;
_Dilige_, and Do-best;
Thus taughte me ones
A lemman that I lovede,
Love was hir name:

"With wordes and with werkes," quod she, 8320
"And wil of thyn herte,
Thow love leelly thi soule
Al thi lif tyme,
And so thow lere the to lovye,
For oure Lordes love of hevene,
Thyn enemy in alle wise
Evene forth with thiselve.
Cast coles on his heed
Of alle kynde speche,
Bothe with werkes and with wordes 8330
Fonde his love to wynne;
And leye on him thus with love,
Til he laughe on the.
And but he bowe for this betyng,
Blynd mote he worthe.

"Ac for to fare thus with thi frend,
Folie it were.
For he that loveth thee leelly,
Litel of thyne coveiteth.
Kynde love coveiteth noght 8340
No catel but speche.
With halfe a laumpe lyne,
In Latyn, _Ex vi transitionis_,
I bere therinne aboute
Faste y-bounde Do-wel,
In a signe of the Saterday
{256}
That sette first the kalender,
And al the wit of the Wodnesday
Of the nexte wike after,
The myddel of the moone, 8350
As the nyght of bothe,
And herwith am I welcome
Ther I have it with me,

"Undo it, lat this doctour deme
If Do-wel be therinne.
For, by hym that me made!
Myghte nevere poverte
Misese ne meschief,
Ne no man with his tonge,
Coold ne care, 8360
Ne compaignye of theves,
Ne neither hete ne hayl,
Ne noon helle pouke,
Ne fuyr ne flood,
Ne feere of thyn enemy,
Tene thee any tyme,
And thow take it with the.
_Caritas nihil timet, etc._"

"It is but a dido," quod this doctour,
"A disours tale; 8370
Al the wit of this world,
And wight mennes strengthe,
Kan noght conformen a pees
Bitwene and hise enemys,
Ne bitwene two cristene kynges
Kan no wight pees make
Profitable to either peple;"
And putte the table fro hym,
And took Clergie and Conscience
To conseil, as it were, 8380
{257}
That Pacience thow most passe,
For pilgrymes konne wel lye.

Ac Conscience carped loude,
And curteisliche seide,
"Frendes, fareth wel;"
And faire spak to Clergie,
"For I wol go with this gome,
If God wol yeve me grace,
And be pilgrym with Pacience,
Til I have preved moore." 8390

"What!" quod Clergie to Conscience,
"Ar ye coveitous nouthe
After yeres-geves, or giftes,
Or yernen to rede redels?
I shal brynge yow a Bible,
A book of the olde lawe,
And lere yow, if yow like,
The leeste point to knowe,
That Pacience the pilgrym
Parfitly knew nevere." 8400

"Nay, by Crist!" quod Conscience
To Clergie, "God thee for-yelde;
For al that Pacience me profreth
Proud am I litel.
Ac the wil of the wye,
And the wil of folk here,
Hath meved my mood
To moorne for my synnes.
The goode wil of a wight
Was nevere bought to the fulle. 8410
For ther nys no tresour, for sothe,
To a trewe wille.

"Hadde noght Maudeleyne moore
For a box of salve,
{258}
Than Zacheus for he seide
_Dimidium bonorum meorum do pauperibus?_ =
And the poore widewe
For a peire of mytes,
Than alle tho that offrede 8420
Into _gazophilacium_?"

Thus curteisliche Conscience
Congeyed first the frere,
And sithen softeliche he seide
In Clergies ere,
"Me were levere, by oure Lord!
And I lyve sholde,
Have pacience perfitliche,
Than half thi pak of bokes."

Clergie of Conscience 8430
No congie wolde take,
But seide ful sobreliche,
"Thow shalt se the tyme
Whan thow art wery of-walked,
Wille me to counseille."

"That is sooth," quod Conscience,
"So me God helpe!
If Pacience be oure partyng felawe,
And pryvé with us bothe,
Ther nys wo in this world 8440
That we ne sholde amende,
And conformen kynges to pees,
And alle kynnes londes;
Sarsens and Surré,
And so forth alle the Jewes,
Turne into the trewe feith,
And intil oon bileve."

"That is sooth," quod Clergie,
{259}
"I se what thow menest;
I shal dwelle as I do, 8450
My devoir to shewe,
And confermen fauntekyns,
And oother folk y-lered,
Til Pacience have preved thee,
And parfit thee maked."

Conscience tho with Pacience passed,
Pilgrymes as it were.
Thanne hadde Pacience, as pilgrymes han,
In his poke vitailles,
Sobretee and symple speche, 8460
And soothfast bileve,
To conforte hym and Conscience,
If thei come in place
There un-kyndenesse and coveitise is,
Hungry contrees bothe.

And as the wente by the weye,
Of Do-wel thei carped;
Thei mette with a mynstral,
As me tho thoughte.
Pacience apposed hym first. 8470
And preyde he sholde hem telle
To Conscience what craft he kouthe,
And to what contree he wolde.

"I am a mynstrall," quod that man,
"My name is _Activa-vita_;
Al ydelnesse ich hatie,
For of actif is my name;
A wafrer, wol ye wite,
And serve manye lordes,
And fewe robes I fonge, 8480
Or furrede gownes.
Couthe I lye to do men laughe,
{260}
Thanne lacchen I sholde
Outher mantel or moneie
Amonges lordes or mynstrals.
Ac for I kan neither taboure ne trompe,
Ne telle no gestes,
Farten ne fithelen
At festes, ne harpen,
Jape ne jogele, 8490
Ne gentilliche pipe,
Ne neither saille ne saute,
Ne synge with the gyterne,
I have no goode giftes
Of thise grete lordes.
For no breed that I brynge forth,
Save a benyson on the Sonday
Whan the preest preieth the peple
Hir pater-noster to bidde
For Piers the Plowman, 8500
And that hym profit waiten;
And that am I actif,
That ydelnesse hatie;
For alle trewe travaillours
And tiliers of the erthe,
Fro Mighelmesse to Mighelmesse
I fynde hem with my wafres.

"Beggeris and bidderis
Of my breed craven,
Faitours and freres, 8510
And folk with brode crounes.
I fynde payn for the pope,
And provendre for his palfrey;
And I hadde nevere of hym,
Have God my trouthe!
Neither provendre ne personage
{261}
Yet of popes gifte,
Save a pardon with a peis of leed
And two polles amyddes.
Hadde ich a clerc that couthe write, 8520
I wolde caste hym a bille,
That he sente me under his seel
A salve for the pestilence,
And that his blessynge and hise bulles
Bocches myghte destruye.
_In nomine meo dæmonia ejicient, et
super ægros manus imponent, et
bene habebunt._

"And thanne wolde I be prest to the peple
Paast for to make, 8530
And buxom and busy
Aboute breed and drynke
For hym and for alle hise,
Founde I that his pardon
Mighte lechen a man,
As I bileve it sholde.
For sith he hath the power
That Peter hymself hadde,
He hath the pot with the salve,
Soothly as me thynketh. 8540
_Argentum et aurum non est mihi;
quod autem habeo tibi do: in
nomine Domini surge et
ambula._

"Ac if myght of myracle hym faille,
It is for men ben noght worthi
To have the grace of God,
And no gilt of pope.
For may no blessynge doon us boote,
But if we wile amende, 8550
{262}
Ne mannes masse make pees
Among cristene peple,
Til pride be pureliche for-do,
And thorugh payn defaute.
For er I have breed of mele,
Oft moot I swete;
And er the commune have corn y-nough,
Many a cold morwenyng.
So er my wafres be y-wroght,
Muche wo I tholye. 8560

"At Londone, I leve,
Liketh wel my wafres;
And louren whan thei lakken hem.
It is noght long y-passed,
There was a careful commune,
Whan no cart com to towne
With breed fro Stratforde;
Tho gonnen beggeris wepe,
And werkmen were agast a lite;
This wole be thought longe. 8570
In the date of oure Drighte,
In a drye Aprille,
A thousand and thre hundred
Twies twenty and ten,
My wafres there were gesene
Whan Chichestre was maire."

I took good kepe, by Crist!
And Conscience bothe,
Of Haukyn the actif man,
And how he was y-clothed. 8580
He hadde a cote of Cristendom,
As holy kirke bileveth;
Ac it was moled in many places
With manye sondry plottes;
{263}
Of pride here a plot,
And there a plot of unbuxome speche,
Of scornyng and of scoffyng,
And of unskilful berynge,
As in apparaill and in porte
Proud amonges the peple, 8590
Oother wise than he hym hath
With herte or sighte shewynge,
Hym willyng that alle men wende
He were that he is noght.
For-why he bosteth and braggeth
With manye bolde othes,
And inobedient to ben undernome
Of any lif lyvynge;
And noon so singuler by hymself,
Ne so pomp holy, 8600
Y-habited as an heremyte,
An ordre by hymselve,
Religion saunz rule
Or resonable obedience,
Lakkynge lettrede men
And lewed men bothe
In likynge of lele lif,
And a liere in soule,
With inwit and with outwit
Ymagynen and studie, 8610
As best for his body be
To have a badde name,
And entremetten hym over al
Ther he hath noght to doone,
Willynge that men wende
His wit were the beste.
And if he gyveth ought to povere gomes,
Telle what he deleth,
{264}
Povere of possession in purs
And in cofre bothe. 8620
And as a lyoun on to loke,
And lordlich of speche,
Boldest of beggeris,
A bostere that noght hath,
In towne and in tavernes
Tales to telle,
And segge thyng that he nevere seigh,
And for sothe sweren it,
Of dedes that he nevere dide
Demen and bosten 8630
And of werkes that he wel dide
Witnesse, and siggen--
"Lo! if ye leve me noght,
Or that I lye wenen,
Asketh at hym or at hym,
And he yow kan telle
What I suffrede and seigh
And som tymes hadde,
And what I kouthe and knew,
And what kyn I com of." 8640
Al he wolde that men wiste
Of werkes and of wordes
Which myghte plese the peple,
And preisen hymselve.
_Si hominibus placerem, Christi
servus non essem. Et alibi:
Nemo potest duobus dominis
servire._

"By Crist!" quod Conscience tho,
"Thi beste cote, Haukyn, 8650
Hath manye moles and spottes,
It moste ben y-wasshe."
{265}

"Ye, who so toke hede," quod Haukyn,
"Bihynde and bifore,
What on bak and what on body half,
And by the two sydes,
Men sholde fynde manye frounces,
And manye foule plottes."

And he torned hym as tyd,
And thanne took I hede, 8660
It was fouler bi fele fold
Than it first semed.
It was bi-dropped with wrathe
And wikkede wille,
With envye and yvel speche,
Entisynge to fighte,
Liynge and laughynge,
And leve tonge to chide,
Al that he wiste wikked
By any wight tellen it, 8670
And blame men bihynde hir bak,
And bidden hem meschaunce,
And that he wiste by Wille
Tellen it Watte,
And that Watte wiste
Wille wiste it after,
And make of frendes foes
Thorugh a fals tonge,
Or with myght or with mouth,
Or thorugh mennes strengthe 8680
Avenge me fele tymes,
Other frete myselve
Withinne as a shepsteres shere,
Y-sherewed man and cursed.
_Cujus maledictione os plenum est
et amaritudine, sub lingua ejus
{266}
labor et dolor. Et alibi: Filii
hominum, dentes eorum arma
et sagittæ, et lingua eorum
gladius acutus._ 8690

"Ther is no lif that me loveth
Lastynge any while;
For tales that I telle,
No man trusteth to me.
And whan I may noght have the maistrie,
Swich malencolie I take,
That I cacche the crampe,
And the cardiacle som tyme,
Or an ague in swich an angre,
And som tyme a fevere 8700
That taketh me al a twelve monthe,
Til that I despise
Lechecraft of oure Lord,
And leve on a wicche,
And seye that no clerc ne kan,
Ne Crist, as I leve,
To the soutere of Southwerk,
Or of Shordyche dame Emme;
And seye that no Goddes word
Gaf me nevere boote, 8710
But thorugh a charme hadde I chaunce
And my chief heele."

I waitede wisloker,
And thanne was it soilled
With likynge of lecherie,
As by lokynge of his eighe.
For ech a maide that he mette
He made hire a signe
Semynge to synne-warde,
And some tyme he gan taste 8720
{267}
Aboute the mouth, or bynethe
Bigynneth to grope,
Til eitheres wille wexeth kene,
And to the werke yeden,
As wel in fastyng dayes and Fridaies
As forboden nyghtes,
And as wel in Lente as out of Lente,
Alle tymes y-liche.
Swiche werkes with hem
Were nevere out of seson, 8730
Til thei myghte na-moore;
And thanne murye tales,
And how that lecchours lovye
Laughen and japen,
And of hir harlotrye and horedom
In hir elde tellen.

Thanne Pacience perceyved
Of pointes of this cote,
That were colomy thorugh coveitise
And unkynde desiryng; 8740
Moore to good than to God
The gome his love caste,
And ymagynede how
He it myghte have
With false mesures and met,
And with fals witnesse;
Lened for love of the wed,
And looth to do truthe;
And awaited thorugh which
Wey to bigile, 8750
And menged his marchaundise,
And made a good moustre;
"The worste withinne was,
A greet wit I let it,
{268}
And if my neghebore hadde any hyne,
Or any beest ellis,
Moore profitable than myn,
Manye sleightes I made
How I myghte have it,
Al my wit I caste. 8760
And but I it hadde by oother wey,
At the laste I stale it;
Or priveliche his purs shook,
And unpikede hise lokes;
Or by nyghte or by daye
Aboute was ich evere,
Thorugh gile to gaderen
The good that ich have.

"If I yede to the plowgh,
I pynched so narwe, 8770
That a foot lond or a forow
Fecchen I wolde
Of my nexte neghebore,
And nymen of his erthe.
And if I repe, over-reche,
Of yaf hem reed that ropen
To seise to me with hir sikel
That I ne sew nevere.

"And who so borwed of me,
A-boughte the tyme 8780
With presentes prively,
Or paide som certeyn;
So he wolde or noght wolde,
Wynnen I wolde,
And bothe to kith and to kyn
Unkynde of that ich hadde.

"And who so cheped my chaffare,
Chiden I wolde,
{269}
But he profrede to paie
A peny or tweyne 8790
Moore than it was worth;
And yet wolde I swere
That it coste me muche moore,
And swoor manye othes.

"On holy daies at holy chirche
Whan ich herde masse,
Hadde I nevere wille, woot God,
Witterly to biseche
Mercy for my mysdedes,
That I ne moorned moore 8800
Nor losse of good, leve me,
Than for my likames giltes.
As if I hadde dedly synne doon,
I dredde noght that so soore,
As when I lened, and leved it lost,
Or longe er it were paied.
So if I kidde any kyndenesse
Myn even cristen to helpe,
Upon a cruwel coveitise
Myn herte gan hange. 8810

"And if I sente over see
My servauntz to Brugges,
Or into Pruce-lond my prentis,
My profit to waiten,
To marchaunden with moneie,
And maken hire eschaunges,
Mighte nevere me conforte.
In the mene while
Neither masse ne matynes,
No none maner sightes; 8820
Ne nevere penaunce perfournede,
Ne pater-noster seide,
{270}
That my mynde ne was moore
On my good in a doute,
Than in the grace of God,
And hise grete helpes.
_Ubi thesaurus tuus, ibi et cor tuum._

"Whiche ben the braunches
That bryngen a man to sleuthe?
He that moorneth noght for hise mysdedes, 8830
Ne maketh no sorwe,
And penaunce that the preest enjoyneth
Perfourneth yvele,
Dooth noon almesse,
Dred hym of no synne,
Lyveth ayein the bileve,
And no lawe holdeth,
Ech day is holy day with hym,
Or an heigh ferye;
And, if he aught wole here, 8840
It is an harlotes tonge.
Whan men carpen of Crist,
Or of clennesse of soules,
He wexeth wroth and wol noght here
But wordes of murthe;
Penaunce of povere men,
And the passion of seintes,
He hateth to here therof,
And alle that it telleth.
Thise ben the braunches, beth war, 8850
That bryngen a man to wanhope.

"Ye lordes and ladies,
And legates of holy chirche,
That fedeth fooles sages,
Flatereris and lieris,
And han likynge to lithen hem
{271}
To do yow to laughe,
_Væ vobis qui ridetis, etc._
And gyveth hem mete and mede,
And povere men refuse; 8860
In youre deeth deyinge,
I drede me ful soore
Lest tho thre manner men
To muche sorwe yow brynge.
_Consentientes et agentes pari poena punientur._ =

"Patriarkes and prophetes,
And prechours of Goddes wordes,
Saven thorugh hir sermons
Mannes soule fro helle. 8870
Right so flatereris and fooles
Arn the fendes disciples
To entice men thorugh hir tales
To synne and to harlotrie.
Ac clerkes, that knowen holy writ,
Sholde kenne lordes
What David seith of swiche men,
As the Sauter telleth.
_Non habitabit in medio domus meæ,
qui facit superbiam, et qui 8880
loquitur iniqua._

"Sholde noon harlot have audience
In halle nor in chambre,
Ther wise men were,
Witnesseth Goddes wordes,
Ne no mys-proud man
Amonges lordes ben allowed.

"Ac flaterers and fooles
Thorugh hir foule wordes
Leden tho that loven hem 8890
{272}
To Luciferis feste,
With _Turpiloquio_, a lady of sorwe,
And Luciferis fithele."
Thus Haukyn the actif man
Hadde y-soiled his cote,
Til Conscience acouped hym therof
In a curteis manere,
Why he ne hadde whasshen it,
Or wiped it with a brusshe. 8899

* * * * *

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON.

* * * * *

Notes

[1] See the "Apocalypsis Goliæ" and other pieces in the poems of Walter Mapes; the Order of Fair Ease in the Political Songs, and the Poems of Rutebeuf; and, in English, the remarkable "Poem on the Evil Times of Edward II." in the appendix to the Political Songs. The Poem entitled the Order of Fair Ease bears some resemblance to the _Abbaye de Theleme_ of Rabelais.

[2] This sentiment was perpetuated in a numerous class of ballads, in which the monarch is represented as thrown incognito among the lower classes, as listening to their expressions of loyalty and to the tale of their sufferings. See the "Tale of King Edward and the Shepherd" in Hartshorne's _Ancient Metrical Tales_; "The King and the Barker," in Ritson's _Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry_; "The King and the Miller," and "King Edward IV. and the Tanner of Tamworth," in _Percy's Reliques_; &c. The earliest known form of this tale is the story of "Henry II. and the Cistercian Abbot," printed from Giraldus Cambrensis in the _Reliquiæ Antiquiæ_, vol. ii. p. 147.

[3] It was at least a tradition early in the sixteenth century (for we have no means now of ascertaining whether there were any substantial grounds for the statement), that the author was named Robert Longlande (or Langlande), that he was born at Cleobury Mortimer in Shropshire, and that (after receiving his education at Oxford) he became a monk of Malvern. I do not think, with Tyrwhitt and Price, that the name _Wil_, given in the poem to the dreamer, necessarily shows that the writer's name was _William_; and still less that the mention of "Kytte my wif" and "Calote my doghter" (p. 395 of the present volume), and of the dreamer's having resided at Cornhill, refer to the family and residence of the author of the poem. If he were a monk (as appears probable by his intimate acquaintance with the Scriptures and the Fathers), he would not be married. Sir Frederick Madden discovered a very important entry in a hand of the fifteenth century on the fly-leaf of a manuscript of Piers Ploughman in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, to the following effect--"Memorandum, quod Stacy de Rokayle, pater Willielmi de Langlond, qui Stacius fuit generosus, et morabatur in Schiptone under Whicwode, tenens domini Le Spenser in comitatu Oxon., _qui prædictus Willielmus fecit librum qui vocatur Perys Ploughman_."--It would perhaps be not impossible to trace the name and history of this Stacy de Rokayle; but till that be done, I do not think this memorandum ought to be considered as overthrowing the old tradition relating to Robert Longlande. It may be mentioned as a remarkable specimen of the patriotism of David Buchanan, that he lays claim to the author of Piers Ploughman as a Scotchman:--"Robertus Langland, natione Scotus, professione sacerdos, vir ex obscuris ortus parentibus, pius admodum et ingeniosus et zelo divinæ gloriæ plenus; inter monachos Benedictinos educatus in civitate Aberdonensi, vir æque erat in omni humaniore literatura insigniter doctus, et in medicina admodum clarus, pium opus sermone vulgare scripsit cui imposuit, || Visionem Petri Aratoris, lib. 1. || Pro conjugio sacerdotum. lib. 1. || Claruit anno Christi Redemptoria, 1369. Regnante Davide Secundo in Scotia."--Dav. Buchanan, _de Scriptoribus Scotis. MS. Bibl. Univ. Edin._