The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 08

Thus yrobed in russet I romed aboute
Al a somer seson for to seke Dowel,
And frayned ful ofte of folk that I mette
If any wight wiste wher Dowel was at inne,
And what man he myghte be of many man I asked.
Was nevere wight as I wente that me wisse kouthe
Where this leode lenged, lasse ne moore -
Til it bifel on a Friday two freres I mette,
Maistres of the Menours, men of grete witte.
I hailsed hem hendely, as I hadde ylerned,
And preide hem, pur churite, er thei passed ferther,
If they knewe any contree or costes [aboute]
Where that Dowel dwelieth - 'Dooth me to witene;
For [ye] be men of this moolde that moost wide walken,
And knowen contrees and courtes and many kynnes places -
Bothe princes paleises and povere mennes cotes,
And Dowel and Do-yvele, wher thei dwelle bothe.'
'[Marie!]', quod the Menours, ' [amonges us he dwelleth],
And evere hath, as I hope, and evere shal herafter.'
'Contra!' quod I as a clerc, and comsed to disputen,
And seide, 'Soothly, Sepcies in die cadit iustus.
Sevene sithes, seith the Book, synneth the rightfulle,
And whoso synneth,' I seide, ' [certes] dooth yvele, as me thynketh,
And Dowel and Do-yvele mowe noght dwelle togideres.
Ergo he nys noght alwey at hoom amonges yow freres
He is outhemhile elliswhere to wisse the peple.'
' I shal seye thee, my sone,' seide the frere thanne,

'How seven sithes the sadde man synneth on the day.
By a forbisne,' quod the frere, 'I shal thee faire shewe.
'Lat brynge a man in a boot amydde a brode watre
The wynd and the water and the [waggyng of the boot]
Maketh the man many tyme to falle and to stonde.
For stonde he never so stif, he stumbleth if he meve -
Ac yet is he saaf and sound, and so hym bihoveth;
For if he ne arise the rather and raughte to the steere,
The wynd wolde with the water the boot overthrowe,
And thanne were his lif lost thorugh lachesse of hymselve.
' Right thus it fareth,' quod the frere, ' by folk here on erthe.
The water is Iikned to the world, that wanyeth and wexeth;
The goodes of this grounde arn lik the grete wawes
That as wyndes and wedres walweth aboute;
The boot is likned to oure body that brotel is of kynde,
That thorugh the fend and the flessh and the frele worlde
Synneth the sadde man [seven sithes a day].
'Ac dedly synne doth he noght, for Dowel hym kepeth,
And that is charite the champion, chief help ayein synne;
For he strengtheth man to stonde, and steereth mannes soule
That, though thi body bowe as boot dooth in the watre,
Ay is thi soule saaf but thow thiselve wole
Folwe thi flessh and the fend after-
Do a deedly synne and drenche so thiselve.

God wole suffre wel thi sleuthe, if thiself liketh;
For he yaf thee to yeresyyve to yeme wel thiselve -
And that is wit and free will, to every wight a porcion,
To fleynge foweles, to fisshes and to beestes;
Ac man hath moost therof, and moost is to blame
But if he werche wel therwith, as Dowel hym techeth.'
I have no kynde knowyng,' quod I, 'to conceyve alle thi wordes,
Ac if I may lyve and loke, I shal go lerne bettre.'
'I bikenne thee Crist,' quod he, that on the cros deyde.'
And I seide,-The same save yow fro myschaunce,
And yyve yow grace on this grounde goode men to worthe!'
And thus I wente widewher, walkyng myn one,
By a wilde wildernesse, and by a wodes side;
Blisse of the briddes abide me made,
And under a lynde upon a launde lened I a stounde
To lythe the layes tho lovely foweles made.
Murthe of hire mouthes made me ther to slepe;
The merveillouseste metels mette me thanne
That ever dremed [dr]ight in [doute], as I wene.
A muche man, as me thoughte, lik to myselve,
Cam and called me by my kynde name.
' What art thow?' quod I tho, ' that thow my name knowest?'
'That thow woost wel,' quod he, 'and no wight bettre.'
'Woot I,' [quod I, 'who art thow?'] 'Thought,' seide he thanne.
'I have sued thee this seven yeer; seye thow me no rather?'
'Art thow Thought?' quod I, 'thoo thow koudest me wisse
Where that Dowel dwelleth, and do me to knowe.'

'Dowel,' quod he, 'and Dobet and Dobest the thridde
Arn thre faire vertues, and ben noght fer to fynde.
Whoso is trewe of his tunge and of his two handes,
And thorugh his labour or thorugh his land his liflode wynneth,
And is trusty of his tailende, taketh but his owene,
And is noght dronkelewe ne dedeynous - Dowel hym folweth.
'Dobet dooth right thus, ac he dooth muche moore;
He is as lowe as a lomb and lovelich of speche,
And helpeth alle men after that hem nedeth.
The bagges and the bigirdles, he hath tobroke hem alle
That the Erl Avarous heeld, and hise heires;
And with Mammonaes moneie he hath maad hym frendes,
And is ronne into Religion, and hath rendred the Bible,
And precheth to the peple Seint Poules wordes -
Libenter suffertis insipientes cum sitis ipsi sapientes.
[Ye wise], suffreth the unwise with yow to libbe,
And with glad wille dooth hem good, for so God yow hoteth.
'Dobest is above bothe and bereth a bisshopes cro[c]e,
is hoked on that oon ende to halie men fro helle.
A pik is on that potente, to pulte adown the wikked
That waiten any wikkednesse Dowel to tene.
And Dowel and Dobet amonges hem ordeyned
To crowne oon to be kyng to [kepen] hem bothe,
That if Dowel or Dobet dide ayein Dobest,
Thanne shal the kyng come and casten hem in irens,
And but if Dobest bede for hem, thei to be ther for evere.

Thus Dowel and Dobet and Dobest the thridde
Crowned oon to be kyng to kepen hem alle
And rule the reme by [rede of hire] wittes,
And ootherwise [ne ellis noght], but as thei thre assented.'
I thonked Thoght tho that he me [so] taughte.
'Ac yet savoreth me noght thi seying, so me Crist helpe!
For more kynde knowynge I coveite to lerne -
How Dowel, Dobet and Dobest doon among the peple.'
'But Wit konne wisse thee.' quod Thoght, ' where tho thre dwelle;
Ellis [n]oot I noon that kan, that now is alyve.'
Thoght and I thus thre daies we yeden
Disputyng upon Dowel day after oother -
And er we war were, with Wit gonne we mete.
He was long and lene, lik to noon oother;
Was no pride on his apparaille, ne poverte neither;
Sad of his semblaunt and of [a] softe [speche].
I dorste meve no matere to maken hym to jangle
But as I bad Thoght thoo be mene bitwene
And pute forth som purpos to preven hise wittes,
What was Dowel fro Dobet, and Dobest from hem bothe.
Thanne Thoght in that tyme seide thise wordes
' Wher Dowel and Dobet and Dobest ben in londe
Here is Wil wolde wite if Wit koude teche;
And wheither he be man or no manthis man wolde as
And werchen as thei thre wolde - this is his entente.'

Pilgrimage In Search Of Do-Well

Thus y-robed in russet . romed I aboute
Al in a somer seson . for to seke Do-wel;
And frayned full ofte . of folk that I mette
If any wight wiste . wher Do-wel was at inne;
And what man he myghte be . of many man I asked.
Was nevere wight, as I wente . that me wisse kouthe
Where this leode lenged, . lasse ne moore.
Til it bifel on a Friday . two freres I mette
Maisters of the Menours . men of grete witte.
I hailsed them hendely, . as I hadde y-lerned.
And preede them par charite, . er thei passed ferther,
If thei knew any contree . or costes as thei wente,
'Where that Do-wel dwelleth . dooth me to witene'.
For thei be men of this moolde . that moost wide walken,
And knowen contrees and courtes, . and many kynnes places,
Bothe princes paleises . and povere mennes cotes,
And Do-wel and Do-yvele . where thei dwelle bothe.
'Amonges us' quod the Menours, . 'that man is dwellynge,
And evere hath as I hope, . and evere shal herafter.'
'_Contra_', quod I as a clerc, . and comsed to disputen,
And seide hem soothly, . '_Septies in die cadit justus_'.
'Sevene sithes, seeth the book . synneth the rightfulle;
And who so synneth,' I seide, . 'dooth yvele, as me thynketh;
And Do-wel and Do-yvele . mowe noght dwelle togideres.
Ergo he nis noght alway . among you freres:
He is outher while ellis where . to wisse the peple.'
'I shal seye thee, my sone' . seide the frere thanne,
'How seven sithes the sadde man, . on a day synneth;
By a forbisne' quod the frere, . 'I shal thee faire showe.
Lat brynge a man in a boot, . amydde the brode watre;
The wynd and the water . and the boot waggyng,
Maketh the man many a tyme . to falle and to stonde;
For stonde he never so stif, . he stumbleth if he meve,
Ac yet is he saaf and sound, . and so hym bihoveth;
For if he ne arise the rather, . and raughte to the steere,
The wynd wolde with the water . the boot over throwe;
And thanne were his lif lost, . thorough lackesse of hymselve.
And thus it falleth,' quod the frere, . 'by folk here on erthe;
The water is likned to the world . that wanyeth and wexeth;
The goodes of this grounde arn like . to the grete wawes,
That as wyndes and wedres . walketh aboute;
The boot is likned to oure body . that brotel is of kynde,
That thorough the fend and the flesshe . and the frele worlde
Synneth the sadde man . a day seven sithes.
Ac dedly synne doth he noght, . for Do-wel hym kepeth;
And that is Charite the champion, . chief help ayein Synne;
For he strengtheth men to stonde, . and steereth mannes soule,
And though the body bowe . as boot dooth in the watre,
Ay is thi soul saaf, . but if thou wole thiselve
Do a deedly synne, . and drenche so thi soule,
God wole suffre wel thi sleuthe . if thiself liketh.
For he yaf thee a yeres-gyve, . to yeme wel thiselve,
And that is wit and free-wil, . to every wight a porcion,
To fleynge foweles, . to fisshes and to beastes:
Ac man hath moost thereof, . and moost is to blame,
But if he werch wel therwith, . as Do-wel hym techeth.'
'I have no kynde knowyng,' quod I, . 'to conceyven alle your wordes:
Ac if I may lyve and loke, . I shall go lerne bettre.'
'I bikenne thee Christ,' quod he, . 'that on cros deyde!'
And I seide 'the same . save you fro myschaunce,
And gyve you grace on this grounde . goode men to worthe!'
And thus I wente wide wher . walkyng myn one,
By a wilderness, . and by a wodes side:
Blisse of the briddes. . Broughte me a-slepe,
And under a lynde upon a launde . lened I a stounde,
To lythe the layes . the lovely foweles made,
Murthe of hire mowthes . made me ther to slepe;
The merveillouseste metels . mette me thanne
That ever dremed wight . in worlde, as I wene.
A muche man, as me thoughte . and like to myselve,
Cam and called me . by my kynde name.
'What artow,' quod I tho, . 'that thow my name knowest.'
'That woost wel,' quod he, . 'and no wight bettre.'
'Woot I what thou art?' . 'Thought,' seide he thanne;
'I have sued thee this seven yeer, . seye thou me no rather.'
'Artow Thought,' quod I thoo, . 'thow koudest me wisse,
Where that Do-wel dwelleth, . and do me that to knowe.'
'Do-wel and Do-bet, . and Do-best the thridde,' quod he,
'Arn thre fair vertues, . and ben noght fer to fynde.
Who so is trewe of his tunge, . and of his two handes,
And thorugh his labour or thorugh his land, . his liflode wynneth,
And is trusty of his tailende, . taketh but his owene,
And is noght dronklewe ne dedeynous, . Do-wel hym folweth.
Do-bet dooth ryght thus; . ac he dooth much more;
He is as lowe as a lomb, . and lovelich of speche,
And helpeth alle men . after that hem nedeth.
The bagges and the bigirdles, . he hath to-broke hem alle
That the Erl Avarous . heeld and hise heires.
And thus with Mammonaes moneie . he hath maad hym frendes,
And is ronne to religion, . and hath rendred the Bible,
And precheth to the peple . Seint Poules wordes:
_Libenter suffertis insipientes, cum sitis ipsi sapientes_:
'And suffreth the unwise' . with you for to libbe
And with glad will dooth hem good . and so God you hoteth.
Do-best is above bothe, . and bereth a bisshopes crosse,
Is hoked on that oon ende . to halie men fro helle;
A pik is on that potente, . to putte a-down the wikked
That waiten any wikkednesse . Do-wel to tene.
And Do-wel and Do-bet . amonges hem han ordeyned,
To crowne oon to be kyng . to rulen hem bothe;
That if Do-wel or Do-bet . dide ayein Do-best,
Thanne shal the kyng come . and casten hem in irens,
And but if Do-best bede for hem, . thei to be there for evere.
Thus Do-wel and Do-bet, . and Do-best the thridde,
Crouned oon to the kyng . to kepen hem alle,
And to rule the reme . by hire thre wittes,
And noon oother wise, . but as thei thre assented.'
I thonked Thoght tho, . that he me thus taughte.
'Ac yet savoreth me noght thi seying. . I coveit to lerne
How Do-wel, Do-bet, and Do-best . doon among the peple.'
'But Wit konne wisse thee,' quod Thoght, . 'Where tho thre dwelle,
Ellis woot I noon that kan . that now is alyve.'
Thoght and I thus . thre daies we yeden,
Disputyng upon Do-wel . day after oother;
And er we were war, . with Wit gonne we mete.
He was long and lene, . lik to noon other;
Was no pride on his apparaille . ne poverte neither;
Sad of his semblaunt, . and of softe chere,
I dorste meve no matere . to maken hym to jangle,
But as I bad Thoght thoo . be mene bitwene,
And pute forth som purpos . to preven his wittes,
What was Do-wel fro Do-bet, . and Do-best from hem bothe.
Thanne Thoght in that tyme . seide these wordes:
'Where Do-wel, Do-bet, . and Do-best ben in londe,
Here is Wil wolde wite, . if Wit koude teche him;
And whether he be man or woman . this man fayn wolde aspie,
And werchen as thei thre wolde, . thus is his entente'

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 07

Treuthe herde telle herof, and to Piers sente
To taken his teme and tilien the erthe,
And purchaced hym a pardoun a pena et a culpa
For hym and for hyse heirs for ever oore after-

And bad hym holde hym at home and erien hise Ieyes,
And alle that holpen hym to erye, to sette or to sowe,
or any [man]er mestier that myghte Piers availe -
Pardon with Piers Plowman Truthe hath ygraunted.
Kynges and knyghtes that kepen Holy Chirche
And rightfully in remes rulen the peple,
Han pardon thorugh purgatorie to passen ful lightly,
With patriarkes and prophetes in paradis to be felawe.
Bysshopes yblessed, if thei ben as thei sholde
Legistres of bothe lawes, the lewed therwith to preche,
And in as muche as thei mowe amenden alle synfulle,
Arn peres with the Apostles - this pardon Piers sheweth -
And at the day of dome at the heighe deys to sitte.
Marchaunts in the margyne hadde manye yeres,
Ac noon A pena et a culpa the Pope nolde hem graunte.
For thei holde noght hir halidayes as Holy Chirche techeth,
And for thei swere 'by hir soule' and-so God moste hem helpe'
Ayein clene Conseience, hir catel to selle.
Ac under his secret seel Truthe sente hem a lettre,
[And bad hem] buggen boldely what hem best liked
And sithenes selle it ayein and save the wynnyng,
And amende mesondieux thermyd and myseise folk helpe;
And wikkede weyes wightly amende,
And do boote to brugges that tobroke were;
Marien maydenes or maken hem nonnes;
Povere peple and prisons fynden hem hir foode,
And sette soolers to scole or to som othere craftes;
Releve Religion and renten hem bettre.
'And I shal sende yow myselve Seynt Michel myn angel,

That no devel shal yow dere ne [in youre deying fere yow],
And witen yow fro wanhope, if ye wol thus werche,
And sende youre soules in saufte to my Seintes in joye.'
Thanne were marchaunts murie - manye wepten for joye-
And preiseden Piers the Plowman, that purchaced this bulle.
Men of lawe leest pardon hadde that pleteden for mede,
For the Sauter saveth hem noght, swiche as take yiftes,
And nameliche of innocents that noon yvel ne konneth
Super innocentem munera non accipies.
Pledours sholde peynen hem to plede for swiche and helpe;
Princes and prelates sholde paie for hire travaille
A regibus et principibus erit merces eorum.
Ac many a justice and jurour wolde for Johan do moore
Than pro Deipietate - leve thow noon oother!
Ac he that spendeth his speche and speketh for the povere
That is innocent and nedy and no man apeireth,
Conforteth hym in that caas, coveit[eth noght hise] yiftes,
And [for Oure Lordes love lawe for hym sheweth] -
Shal no devel at his deeth day deren hym a myte
That he ne worth saaf and his soule, the Sauter bereth witnesse
Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo ?
Ac to bugge water, ne wynd, ne wit, ne fir the ferthe -
Thise foure the Fader of Hevene made to this foold in commune
Thise ben Truthes tresores trewe folk to helpe,

That nevere shul wex ne wanye withouten God hymselve.
Whan thei drawen on to the deth, and indulgences wolde have,
His pardon is ful petit at his partyng hennes
That any mede of mene men for hir motyng taketh.
Ye legistres and lawieres, [if I lye witeth Mathew]
Quodcumque vultis ut faciant vobis homines, facite eis.
Alle libbynge laborers that lyven with hir hondes,
That treweliche taken and treweliche wynnen,
And lyven in love and in lawe, for hir lowe herte
Haveth the same absolucion that sent was to Piers.
Beggeres and bidderes beth noght in the bulle
But if the suggestion be sooth that shapeth hem to begge
For he that beggeth or bit, but it he have nede,
He is fals with the feend and defraudeth the nedy,
And also gileth the gyvere ageynes his wille;
For if he wiste he were noght nedy he wolde [that yyve]
Another that were moore nedy than he - so the nedieste sholde be holpe.
Caton kenneth me thus, and the Clerc of the Stories
Cui des, videto is Catons techyng;
And in the Stories he techeth to bistowe thyn almesse
Sit elemosina tua in manu tua donec studes cui des.
Ac Gregory was a good man, and bad us gyven alle

That asketh for His love that us al leneth
Non eligas cui miserearis, ne forte pretereas illum qui meretur
accipere; quia incertum est pro quo Deo magis placeas.
For wite ye nevere who is worthi-ac God woot who hath nede.
In hym that taketh is the trecherie, if any treson walke-
For he that yeveth, yeldeth, and yarketh hym to reste,
And he that biddeth, borweth, and bryngeth hymself in dette.
For beggeres borwen everemo, and hir borgh is God Almyghty-
To yelden hem that yeveth hem, and yet usure moore
Quare non dedisti pecuniam meam ad mensam, ut
ego ueniens cum usuris exegissem utique illam?
Forthi biddeth noght, ye beggeres, but if ye have gret nede.
For whoso hath to buggen hym breed-the Book bereth witnesse-
He hath ynough that hath breed ynough, though he have noght ellis
Satis dives est qui non indiget pane.
Lat usage be your solas of seintes lyves redyng;
The Book banneth beggerie, and blameth hem in this manere
Iunior fui etenim senui, et non vidi iustum derelictum nec
semen eius querens panem.
For [thei] lyve in no love, ne no lawe holde
[Thei] ne wedde no womman that [thei] with deele,
But as wilde bestes with 'wehee' worthen uppe and werchen,
And bryngen forth barnes that bastardes men calleth.
Or the bak or som soon their breketh in his youthe,

And goon [and] faiten with hire fauntes for everemoore after.
Ther is moore mysshapen amonges thise beggeres
Than of alle [othere] manere men that on this moolde walketh.
Tho that lyve thus hir lif mowe lothe the tyme
That evere he was man wroght, whan he shal hennes fare.
Ac olde men and hore that helplees ben of strengthe,
And wommen with childe that werche ne mowe,
Blynde and bedreden and broken hire membres,
That taken this myschief mekeliche, as mesels and othere,
Han as pleyn pardon as the Plowman hymselve.
For Iove of hir lowe hertes Oure Lord hath hem graunted
Hir penaunce and hir Purgatorie upon this [pure] erthe.
' Piers,' quod a preest thoo, ' thi pardon moste I rede;
For I shal construe ech clause and kenne it thee on Englissh.'
And Piers at his preiere the pardon unfoldeth -
And I bihynde hem bothe biheld al the bull
In two lynes it lay, and noght a le[ttre] moore,
And was writen right thus in witnesse of truthe
Et qui bona egerunt ibunt in vitam eternam.
Qui vero mala, in ignem eternum.
' Peter! ' quod the preest thoo, ' I kan no pardon fynde
But '-Do wel and have wel. and God shal have thi soule,'
And ' Do yvel and have yvel, and hope thow noon oother
That after thi deeth day the devel shal have thi soule!'
And Piers for pure tene pulled it atweyne
And seide,-Si ambulavero in medio umbre mortis
Non timebo mala, quoniam tu mecum es.

'I shal cessen of my sowyng,' quod Piers, 'and swynke noght so harde,
Ne aboute my bely joye so bisy be na moore;
Of preieres and of penaunce my plough shal ben herafter,
And wepen whan I sholde slepe, though whete breed me faille.
'The prophete his payn eet in penaunce and in sorwe,
By that the Sauter seith - so dide othere manye.
That loveth God lelly, his lifiode is ful esy
Fuerunt michi lacrime mee panes die ac nocte.
'And but if Luc lye, he lereth us by foweles
We sholde noght be to bisy aboute the worldes blisse
Ne soliciti sitis, he seith in the Gospel
And sheweth us by ensamples us selve to wisse.
The foweles in the feld, who fynt hem mete at wynter?
Have thei no gerner to go to, but God fynt hem alle.'
'What!' quod the preest to Perkyn, 'Peter! as me thynketh,
Thow art lettred a litel - who lerned thee on boke?'
'Abstynence the Abbesse,' quod Piers,-myn a.b.c. me taughte,
And Conscience cam afterward and kenned me muche moore.'
' Were thow a preest, Piers,' quod he, ' thow myghtest preche where thow sh
As divinour in divinite, with Dixit insipiens to thi teme.'
' Lewed lorel!' quod Piers, 'litel lokestow on the Bible;
On Salomons sawes selden thow biholdest -
Eice derisores et iurgia cum eis ne crescant &c.'
The preest and Perkyn apposeden either oother -
And I thorugh hir wordes awook, and waited aboute,
And seigh the sonne in the south sitte that tyme.
Metelees and moneilees on Malverne hulles,
Musynge on this metels a my[le] wey ich yede.
Many tyme this metels hath maked me to studie
Of that I seigh slepynge - if it so be myghte;
And for Piers the Plowman ful pencif in herte,

And which a pardon Piers hadde, al the peple to conforte,
And how the preest inpugned it with two propre wordes.
Ac I have no savour in songewarie, for I se it ofte faille;
Caton and canonistres counseillen us to leve
To sette sadnesse in songewarie - for sompnia ne cures.
Ac for the book Bible bereth witnesse
How Daniel divined the dremes of a kyng
That was Nabugodonosor nempned of clerkes . . .
Daniel seide, 'Sire Kyng, thi dremels bitokneth
That unkouthe knyghtes shul come thi kyngdom to cleyme;
Amonges lower lordes thi lond shal be departed.'
And as Daniel divined, in dede it fel after
The kyng lees his lordshipe, and lower men it hadde.
And Joseph mette merveillously how the moone and the sonne
And the ellevene sterres hailsed hym alle.
Thanne Jacob jugged Josephes swevene
' Beau fiz,' quod his fader, ' for defaute we shullen -
I myself and my sones - seche thee for nede.'
It bifel as his fader seide, in Pharaoes tyme,
That Joseph was Justice Egipte to loke
It bifel as his fader tolde - hise frendes there hym soughte.
Al this maketh me on metels to thynke -
And how the preest preved no pardon to Dowel,
And demed that Dowel indulgences passed,
Biennals and triennals and bisshopes lettres,
And how Dowel at the Day of Dome is digneliche underfongen,
And passeth al the pardon of Seint Petres cherche.
Now hath the Pope power pardon to graunte
The peple, withouten penaunce to ja into [joye];
This is [a leef of] oure bileve, as lettred men us techeth
Quodcumque ligaveris super terram erit ligatum et in celis &c.

And so I leve leelly (Lord forbede ellis!)
That pardon and penaunce and preieres doon save
Soules that have synned seven sithes dedly.
Ac to trust on thise triennals - trewely, me thynketh,
It is noght so siker for the soule, certes, as is Dowel.
Forthi I rede yow renkes that riche ben on this erthe,
Upon trust of youre tresor triennals to have,
Be ye never the bolder to breke the ten hestes;
And namely ye maistres, meires and jugges,
That have the welthe of this world and wise men ben holden,
To purchace yow pardon and the Popes bulles.
At the dredful dome, whan dede shulle arise
And comen alle bifore Crist acountes to yelde -
How thow laddest thi lif here and hise lawes keptest,
And how thow didest day by day the doom wole reherce.
A pokeful of pardon there, ne provincials lettres,
Theigh ye be founde in the fraternite of alle the foure ordres
And have indulgences doublefold - but Dowel yow helpe,
I sette youre patentes and youre pardon at one pies hele!
Forthi I counseille alle Cristene to crie God mercy,
And Marie his moder be oure meene bitwene,
That God gyve us grace here, er we go hennes,
Swiche werkes to werche, while we ben here,
That after oure deth day, Dowel reherce
At the day of dome, we dide as he highte.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 12

' I am Ymaginatif,' quod he, 'ydel was I nevere,
Though I sitte by myself, in siknesse nor in helthe.
I have folwed thee, in feith, thise fyve and fo
And manye tymes have meved thee to [mlyn[n]e on thyn ende,
And how fele fernyeres are faren, and so fewe to come
And of thi wilde wantownesse [whan] thow yong were,
To amende it in thi myddel age, lest myght the faille
In thyn olde elde, that yvele kan suffre
Poverte or penaunce, or preyeres bidde
Si non in prima vigilia nec in secunda &c.

'Amende thee while thow myght; thow hast ben warned ofte
With poustees of pestilences, with poverte and with angres -
And with thise bittre baleises God beteth his deere children
Quem diligo, castigo.
And David in the Sauter seith, of swiche that loveth Jesus,
'' Virga tua et baculus tuus, ipsa me consolata sunt.
Although 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 - and myghtest go seye thi Sauter,
And bidde for hem that yyveth thee breed; for ther are bokes ynowe
To telle men what Dowel is, Dobet and Dobest bothe,
And prechours to preve what it is, of many a peire freres.'
I seigh wel he seide me sooth and, somwhat me to excuse,
Seide, 'Caton conforted his sone that, clerk though he were,
To solacen hym som tyme - a[lso] I do whan I make
Interpone tuis interdum gaudia curis.
'And of holy men I herde,' quod I, 'how thei outherwhile
Pleyden, the parfiter to ben, in [places manye].
Ac if ther were any wight that wolde me telle
What were Dowel and Dobet and Dobest at the laste,
Wolde I nevere do werk, but wende to holi chirche
And there bidde my bedes but whan ich ete or slepe.'
'Poul in his pistle,' quod he, 'preveth what is Dowel
Fides, spes, caritas, et maior horum &c -
Feith, hope and charitee, and alle ben goode,
And saven men sondry tymes, ac noon so soone as charite.
For he dooth wel, withouten doute, that dooth as lewte techeth;
That is, if thow be man maryed, thi make thow lovye,
And lyve forth as lawe wole 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 holde 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 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 deere he it aboughte;
Aristotle and othere mo, Ypocras and Virgile,
Alisaundre that al wan, elengliche ended.
Catel and kynde wit was combraunce to hem alle.
' Felice hir fairnesse fel hire al to sclaundre,
And Rosamounde right so reufulliche bisette
The beaute of hir body; in baddenesse she despended.
Of manye swiche I may rede - of men and or 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 so manye nedy folkes
And love hem noght as Oure Lord bit, lesen hir soules
Date et dabitur vobis.
So catel and kynde wit acombreth ful manye;
Wo is hym that hem weldeth but he hem wel despende
Scient [es] et nan facient [es] variis flagellis vapulab[un]t.
Sapience, seith the Bok, swelleth a mannes soule
Sapiencia inflat &c.
And richesse right so, but if the roote be trewe.
'Ac grace is a gras therfore, tho grevaunces to abate.
Ac grace ne groweth noght but amonges [gomes] lowe
Paciwnce and poverte the place is ther 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 to burnes that kan rede
Quod scimus loquimur, quod vidimus testamur.
Of quod scimus cometh clergie, a konnynge of hevene,
And of quad 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, ne kynde wit the weyes
Nescit aliquis unde venit aut quo vadit &c.
'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, that was the lawe of Jewes,
That what womman were in avoutrye taken, were she riche or poore,
With stones men sholde hir strike. and stone hire to dethe.
A womman, as we fynden, was gilty of that dede;
Ac Crist of his curteisie thorugh clergie hir saved.
For thorugh caractes that Crist wroot, the Jewes knewe hemselve
Giltier as afore 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;
So clergie is confort 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 and bothe coupable shewed
The womman that the Jewes broughte, that Jesus thoughte to save
Nolite iudicare et non iudicabimini.
Right so Goddes body, bretheren, but it be worthili taken,
Dampneth us at the day of dome as dide the caractes the Jewes.
'Forthi I counseille thee for Cristes sake. clergie that thow lovye,
For kynde wit is of his kyn and neighe cosynes bothe
To Oure Lord, leve me - forthi love hem, I rede.
For bothe ben as mirours to amenden oure det-autes,
And lederes for lewed men and for lettred bothe.
'Forthi lakke thow nevere logik, lawe ne hise custumes,
Ne countreplede clerkes - l 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.
Although men made bokes, God was the maister,
And Seint Spirit the samplarie, and seide what men sholde write.
And right as sight serveth a man to se the heighe strete,
Right so lereth 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 -
Which is the cofre of Cristes tresor, and clerkes kepe the keyes,
To unloken it at hir likyng, and to the lewed peple
Yyve mercy for hire mysdedes, if men it wole aske
Buxomliche and benigneliche, and bidden it of grace.
'Archa Dei in the Olde Lawe, Levites it kepten;
Hadde nevere lewed man leve to leggen hond on that cheste
But he were preest or preestes sone, patriark or prophete.

'Saul, for he sacrificed, sorwe hym bitidde,
And his sones also for that synne mischeved,
And manye mo other men that were no Levites,
That with archa Dei yeden, in reverence and in worship,
And leiden hond theron to liften it up - and loren hir lif after.
'Forthi I conseille alle creatures no clergie to dispise,
Ne sette short by hir science, whatso thei don hemselve.
Take we hir wordes at worth, for hire witnesses be trewe,
And medle we noght muche with hem to meven any wrathe,
Lest cheste cha[f]en us to choppe ech man other
Nolite tangere christos meos &c.
' For clergie is kepere under Crist of hevene;
[Com] ther nevere no knyght but clergie hym made.
Ac kynde wit cometh of alle kynnes sightes -
Of briddes and of beestes, [of blisse and of sorwe],
Of tastes of truthe and [oft] of deceites.
'[Olde] lyveris toforn us useden to marke
The 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 ysaved,
Ne broght by hir bokes to blisse ne to joye;
For alle hir kynde knowyng com but of diverse sightes.
' Patriarkes and prophetes repreveden hir science,
And seiden hir wordes ne hir wisdomes was but a folye;
As to the clergie of Crist, counted it but a trufle
Sapiencia huius mundi stultitia est apud Deum.

'For the heighe Holy Goost hevene shal tocleve,
And love shal lepe out after into this lowe erthe,
And clennesse shal cacchen it and clerkes shullen it fynde
Pastores loquebantur ad invicem.
' He speketh there of riche men right noght, 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 yyve thee fyve shillynges!)
Ne in none beggers cote was that barn born,
But in a burgeises place, of Bethlem the beste
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.!
Riche men rutte tho and in hir reste were,
Tho it shon to shepherdes, a shewer of blisse.
Clerkes knewen it wel and comen with hir presents,
And diden hir homage nurably to hym that was almyghty.
'Why I have told thee I this - I took ful good hede
How thow contrariedest lergie with crabbede wordes,
How that lewed men lightloker than lettrede were saved,
Than clerkes or kynde witted men, of Cristene peple.
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, hir noon sikerer than other;
That oon hath konnynge and kan swymmen and dyven,
That oother is lewed of that labour, lerned nevere swymme.
Which trowestow of tho two in Themese is in moost drede -
He that nevere ne dyved ne noght kan of symmyng
Or the swymmere that is saff by so hymself like,
Ther his felawe fleteth forthas the flood liketh,

And is in drede to drenche, that nevere dide swymme?'
'That swymme kan noght,' I seide, 'it semeth to my wittes.'
' 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.
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 remisse sunt iniquitates et quorum tecta sunt peccata.
And this conforteth ech a clerk and kevereth 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 loresman lereth hyrn bileveth and troweth,
And that is after person or parissh preest, and paraventure bothe unkonnynge
To lere lewed men, as Luc bereth witnesse
Dum cecus ducit cecum &c.
'Wo was hym marked that wade moot with the lewed!
Wel may the barn blesse that hym to book sette,
That lyvynge after lettrure saved hym lif and soule.
Dominus pars hereditatis mee 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 Fryday as thow speke,

Was for he yald hym creaunt to Crist on the cros and knewliched hym gilty,
And grace asked of God, that to graunten is evere redy
To hem that buxomliche biddeth it, and ben in wille to amenden hem.
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 and sette me amydde the floor
I hadde mete moore than ynough. 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 bordlees by myself on the grounde.
So it fareth by that felon that a Good Friday was saved
He sit neither with Seint Johan, Symond ne Jude,
Ne with maydenes ne with martires ne confessours ne wydewes,
But by hymself as a soleyn, and served on the erthe.
For he that is ones a thef is everemoore in daunger,
And as lawe liketh to lyve or to deye
De peccato propiciato noli esse sine metu.
And for to serven a seint and swich a thef togideres -
It were neither reson ne right to rewarde both yliche.
'And right as Troianus the trewe knyght tilde noght depe in helle
That Oure Lord ne hadde hym lightly out, so leve I [by] the thef in hevene
For he is in the loweste of hevene, if oure bileve be trewe,

And wel losely he lolleth there, by the lawe of Holy Chirche,
Quia reddit unicuique iuxta opera sua.
'Ac why that oon theef on the cros creaunt hym yald
Rather than that oother theef, though thow woldest appose,
Alle the clerkes under Crist ne kouthe the skile assoille
Quare placuit ? Quia voluit.
And so I seye by thee, that sekest after the whyes, -
And aresonedest Reson, a rebukynge as it were,
And willest of briddes and of beestes and of hir bredyng knowe,
Why some be alough and some aloft, thi likyng it were;
And of the floures in the fryth and of hire faire hewes -
Wherof thei cacche hir colours so clere and so brighte,
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,
Ac Kynde knoweth the cause hymself and no creature ellis.
He is the pies patron and putteth it in hir ere
That there the thorn is thikkest to buylden and brede.
And Kynde kenned the pecok to cauken in swich a kynde,
And Kynde kenned Adam to knowe his pryve membres,
And taughte hym and Eve to helien hem with leves.
' Lewed men many tymes maistres thei apposen, .
Whi Adam ne hiled noght first his mouth that eet the appul,
Rather than his likame alogh? - lewed asken thus clerkes.
Kynde knoweth whi he dide so, ac no clerk ellis!
'Ac of briddes and of beestes men by olde tyme
Ensamples token and termes, as telleth thise poetes,
And that the faireste fowel foulest engendreth,
And feblest fowel of flight is that fleeth or swymmeth.
And that is the pecok and the pehen - proude riche men thei bitokneth
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 unlovelich of ledene and looth for to here.
'Right so the riche, if he his richesse kepe
And deleth it noght til his deeth day, the tail of alle is sorwe.
Right 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 birewe the tyme
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 lik a pies chiteryng;
And whan his caroyne shal come in cave to be buryed,
I leve it flawme ful foule the fold al aboute,
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 his fetheres is reverenced;
Right so is the riche by reson of hise goodes.
'The larke, that is a lasse fowel, is moore lovelich of ledene,
And wel awey of wynge swifter than the pecok,
And of flessh by felefold fatter and swetter;
To lowe libbynge men the larke is resembled.
['Swiche tales he telleth, Aristotle the grete clerk];
Thus he likneth in his logik the leeste fowel oute.
And wheither he be saaf or noght saaf, the sothe woot no clergie,
Ne of Sortes ne of Salamon no seripture kan telle.
Ac God is so good, I hope that siththe he gaf hem wittes
To wissen us wyes therwith, that wisshen 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 yet, ne were loore of hir bokes.'
'Alle thise clerkes,' quod I tho, 'that on Crist leven.
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 iustus in die iudicii,
Ergo - salvabitur!' quod he, and seide no moore Latyn.
'Troianus was a trewe knyght and took nevere Cristendom,
And he is saaf, so seith the book, and his soule in hevene.
Ac ther is fullynge of font and fullynge in blood shedyng,
And thorugh fir is fullyng, and that is ferme bileve
Advenit ignis divinus, non comburens set illuminans &c.
'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 trewe truthe were allowed.
And wheither it worth or noght worth, the bileve is gret of truthe,
And an hope hangynge therinne to have a mede for his truthe;
For Deus dicitur quasi dans vitam eternam suis, hoc est fidelibus.
Et alibi, Si ambulavero in medio umbre mortis &c.

The glose graunteth upon that vers a greet mede to truthe.
And wit and wisdom,' quod that wye, ' was som tyme tresor
To kepe with a commune - no catel was holde bettre -
And muche murthe and manhod' - and right with that he vanysshed.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 06

'This were a wikkede wey but whoso hadde a gyde
That [myghte] folwen us ech a foot' - thus this folk hem mened.
Quod Perkyn the Plowman, ' By Seint Peter of Rome!
I have an half acre to erie by the heighe weye;
Hadde I cryed this half acre and sowen it after,
I wolde wende with yow and the wey teche.'
'This were a long lettyng,' quod a lady in a scleyre;

'What sholde we wommen werche the while?'
'Somme shul sowe the sak ' quod Piers, ' for shedyng of the whete;
And ye lovely ladies with youre longe fyngres,
That ye have silk and sandel to sowe whan tyme is
Chesibles for chapeleyns chirches to honoure.
Wyves and widewes, wolle and flex spynneth
Maketh cloth, I counseille yow, and kenneth so youre doughtres.
The nedy and the naked, nymeth hede how thei liggeth,
And casteth hem clothes, for so commaundeth Truthe.
For I shal lenen hem liflode, but if the lond faille,
As longe as I lyve, for the Lordes love of hevene.
And alle manere of men that by mete and drynke libbeth,
Helpeth hym to werche wightliche that wynneth youre foode.'
'By Crist!' quod a knyght thoo, 'he kenneth us the beste;
Ac on the teme, trewely, taught was I nevere.
Ac kenne me,' quod the knyght, 'and by Crist I wole assaye!'
'By Seint Poul!' quod Perkyn, 'Ye profre yow so faire
That I shal swynke and swete and sowe for us bothe,
And [ek] labour[e] for thi love al my lif tyme,
In covenaunt that thow kepe Holy Kirke and myselve
Fro wastours and fro wikked men that this world destruyeth;
And go hunte hardiliche to hares and foxes,
To bores and to bukkes that breken down myne hegges;
And go affaite thi faucons wilde foweles to kille,
For thei cometh to my croft and croppeth my whete.'
Curteisly the knyght thanne co[nseyved] thise wordes
'By my power, Piers, I plighte thee my trouthe
To fulfille this forward, though I fighte sholde;
Als longe as I lyve I shal thee mayntene.'
' Ye, and yet a point,' quod Piers, 'I preye yow of moore

Loke ye tene no tenaunt but Truthe wole assente;
And though ye mowe amercy hem, lat mercy be taxour
And mekenesse thi maister, maugree Medes chekes.
And though povere men profre yow presentes and yiftes,
Nyme it noght, an aventure thow mowe it noght deserve;
For thow shalt yelde it ayein at one yeres ende
In a ful perilous place - Purgatorie it hatte.
And mysbede noght thi bondemen - the bettre may thow spede;
Though he be thyn underlyng here, wel may happe in hevene
That he worth worthier set and with moore blisse
Amice, ascende superius.
For in charnel at chirche cherles ben yvel to knowe,
Or a knyght from a knave there - knowe this in thyn herte.
And that thow be trewe of thi tonge, and tales that thow hatie,
But if thei ben of wisdom or of wit, thi werkmen to chaste.
Hold with none harlotes ne here noght hir tales,
And namely at the mete swiche men eschuwe -
For it ben the develes disours, I do the to understonde.'
'I assente, by Seint Jame,' seide the knyght thanne,
'For to werche by thi wordes the while my lif dureth.'
'And I shal apparaille me,' quod Perkyn, 'in pilgrymes wise
And wende with yow I wile til we fynde Truthe.'
[He] caste on [hise] clothes, yclouted and hole,
[Hise] cokeres and [hise] coffes for cold of [hise] nailes,
And [heng his] hoper at [his] hals in stede of a scryppe

'A busshel of bred corn brynge me therinne,
For I wol sowe it myself, and sithenes wol I wende
To pilgrymage as palmeres doon, pardon for to have.
And whoso helpeth me to erie or sowen here er I wende,
Shal have leve, by Oure Lord, to lese here in hervest
And make hym murie thermyd, maugree whoso bigruccheth it.
And alle kynne crafty men that konne lyven in truthe,
I shal fynden hem fode that feithfulliche libbeth -
Save Jakke the Jogelour and Jonette of the Stuwes,
And Danyel the Dees-pleyere and Denote the Baude,
And Frere the Faitour, and folk of his ordre,
And Robin the Ribaudour, for hise rusty wordes.
Truthe tolde me ones and bad me telle it forth
Deleantur de libro vivencium - I sholde noght dele with hem,
For Holy Chirche is hote, of hem no tithe to aske,
Quia cum iustis non scribantur.
Thei ben ascaped good aventure - now God hem amende!'
Dame Werch-whan-tyme-is Piers wif highte;
His doughter highte Do-right-so-or-thi-dame-shal-thee-bete;
His sone highte Suffre-thi-Sovereyns-to-haven-hir-wille
Deme-h em-noght-for-if-thow-doost-thow-shalt-it-deere-ab ugge;
Lat-God-yworthe-with-al-for-so-His-word-teche th.
'For now I am old and hoor and have of myn owene,
To penaunce and to pilgrimage I wol passe with thise othere;
Forthi I wole er I wende do write my biqueste.
In Dei nomine, Amen, I make it myselve.
' He shal have my soule that best hath deserved it,
And [defende it fro the fend], for so I bileve,
Til I come to hise acountes as my crede me telleth,

To have a relees and a remission - on that rental I leve.
'The kirke shal have my caroyne, and kepe my bones,
For of my corn and catel he craved the tithe.
I paide it hym prestly, for peril of my soule;
Forthi is he holden, I hope, to have me in his masse
And mengen me in his memorie amonges alle Cristene.
' My wif shal have of that I wan with truthe, and namoore,
And dele among my doughtres and my deere children;
For though I deye today, my dettes are quyte;
I bar hom that I borwed er I to bedde yede.
And with the residue and the remenaunt, by the Rode of Lukes!
I wol worshipe therwith Truthe by my lyve,
And ben His pilgrym atte plow for povere mennes sake.
My plowpote shal be my pikstaf, and picche atwo the rotes,
And helpe my cultour to kerve and clense the furwes.'
Now is Perkyn and thise pilgrimes to the plow faren.
To erie this half-acre holpen hym manye;
Dikeres and delveres digged up the balkes;
Therwith was Perkyn apayed and preised hem faste.
Othere werkmen ther were that wroghten ful yerne
Ech man in his manere made hymself to doone,
And somme to plese Perkyn piked up the wedes.
At heigh prime Piers leet the plough stonde,
To oversen hem hymself; whoso best wroghte,
He sholde be hired therafter, whan hervest tyme come.
Thanne seten somme and songen atte nale,
And holpen ere this half acre with 'How trolly lolly!'

'Now, by the peril of my soule!' quod Piers al in pure tene,
'But ye arise the rather and rape yow to werche,
Shal no greyn that here groweth glade yow at nede,
And though ye deye for doel, the devel have that recche!'
Tho were faitours afered, and feyned hem blynde;
Somme leide hir legges aliry, as swiche losels konneth,
And made hir [pleynt] to Piers and preide hym of grace
'For we have no lymes to laboure with, lord, ygraced be ye!
Ac we preie for yow, Piers, and for youre plowgh bothe,
That God of his grace youre greyn multiplie
And yelde yow of youre almesse that ye yyve us here;
For we may neither swynke ne swete, swich siknesse us eyleth.'
If it be sooth.' quod Piers, 'that ye seyn, I shal it soone aspie.
Ye ben wastours, I woot wel, and Truthe woot the sothe;
And I am his olde hyne and highte hym to warne
Whiche thei were in this world hise werkmen apeired.
Ye wasten that men wynnen with travaille and with tene;
Ac Truthe shal teche yow his teme to dryve,
Or ye shul eten barly breed and of the broke drynke;
But if he be blynd or brokelegged or bolted with irens,
He shal ete whete breed and [with myselve drynke]
Til God of his goodnesse garisoun] hym sende.
Ac ye myghte travaille as Truthe wolde and take mete and hyre
To kepe kyen in the feld, the corn fro the bestes,
Diken or delven or dyngen upon sheves,
Or helpe make morter or bere muk afeld.
In lecherie and losengerie ye lyven, and in sleuthe,
And al is thorugh suffraunce that vengeaunce yow ne taketh!
'Ac ancres and heremites that eten but at Nones

And na moore er morwe - myn almesse shul thei have,
And of my catel to cope hem with that han cloistres and chirches.
Ac Robert Renaboute shal [right] noght have of myne,
Ne postles, but thei preche konne and have power of the bisshop
Thei shul have payn and potage and [put] hemself at ese -
For it is an unresonable Religion that hath right noght of certein.'
Thanne gan Wastour to wrathen hym and wolde have yfoughte,
And to Piers the Plowman he profrede his glove.
A Bretoner, a braggere, abosted Piers als
And bad hym go pissen with his plowgh, forpynede sherewe!
'Wiltow or neltow, we wol have oure wille
Of thi flour and of thi flesshe - fecche whanne us liketh,
And maken us murye thermyde, maugree thi chekes.'
Thanne Piers the Plowman pleyned hym to the knyghte
To kepen hym as covenaunt was fro cursede sherewes
And fro thise wastours wolveskynnes that maketh the world deere
' For tho wasten and wynnen noght, and that [while ilke]
Worth nevere plentee among the peple the while my plowgh liggeth.'
Curteisly the knyght thanne, as his kynde wolde,
Warnede Wastour and wissed hym bettre
'Or thow shalt abigge by the lawe, by the ordre that I bere!'
' I was noght wont to werche,' quod Wastour, 'and now wol I noght bigynne! '-
And leet light of the lawe, and lasse of the knyghte,
And sette Piers at a pese, and his plowgh bothe,
And manaced Piers and his men if thei mette eftsoone.
' Now, by the peril of my soule!' quod Piers, ' I shal apeire yow alle' -
And houped after Hunger, that herde hym at the firste.
'Awreke me of thise wastours,' quod he, 'that this world shendeth!'
Hunger in haste thoo hente Wastour by the mawe

And wrong hym so by the wombe that al watrede hise eighen.
He buffetted the Bretoner aboute the chekes
That he loked lik a lanterne al his lif after.
He bette hem so bothe, he brast ner hire guttes;
Ne hadde Piers with a pese loot-preyed [hym bileve],
They hadde be dolven bothe - ne deme thow noon oother.
'Suffre hem lyve,' he seide-and lat hem etc with hogges,
Or ellis benes and bren ybaken togideres.'
Faitours for fere herof flowen into bernes
And flapten on with flailes fro morwe til even,
That hunger was noght hardy on hem for to loke
For a potful of peses that Piers hadde ymaked.
An heep of herernytes henten hem spades
And kitten hir copes and courtepies hem maked.
And wente as werkmen with spades and with shoveles,
And dolven and dikeden to dryve awey Hunger.
Blynde and bedreden were bootned a thousand,
That seten to begge silver, soone were thei heeled ;
For that was bake for Bayard was boote for many hungry;
And many a beggere for benes buxum was to swynke,
And ech a povere man wel apaied to have pesen for his hyre,
And what Piers preide hem to do as prest as a sperhauk.
And [Piers was proud therof ], and putte hem to werke
And yaf hem mete as he myghte aforthe and mesurable hyre.
Thanne hadde Piers pite, and preide Hunger to wende
Hoom into his owene erd and holden hym there [evere]
' For I am wel awroke of wastours thorugh thy myghte.
Ac I preie thee, er thow passe,' quod Piers to Hunger,
'Of beggeris and of bidderis what best be to doone?
For I woot wel, be thow went, thei wol werche ful ille;
Meschief it maketh thei be so meke nouthe,
And for defaute of hire foode this folk is at my wille.

[And] it are my blody bretheren, for God boughte us alle.
Truthe taughte me ones to loven hem ech one
And to helpen hem of alle thyng, ay as hem nedeth.
Now wolde I wite of thee, what were the beste,
And how I myghte amaistren hem and make hem to werche.'
' Here now,' quod Hunger, 'and hoold it for a wisdom
Bolde beggeris and bigge that mowe hir breed biswynke,
With houndes breed and horse breed hoold up hir hertes -
Aba[v]e hem with benes, for bollynge of hir wombe;
And if the gomes grucche, bidde hem go swynke,
And he shal soupe swetter whan he it hath deserved.
'Ac if thow fynde any freke that Fortune hath apeired
Or any manere false men, fonde thow swiche to knowe
Conforte hem with thi catel for Cristes love of hevene;
Love hem and lene hem, for so Iawe of [kynde wolde]
Alter alterius onlera portate.
And alle manere of men that thow myght aspie
That nedy ben [or naked, and nought han to spende,
Love hem and lakke hem noght - lat God take the vengeaunce;
Theigh thei doon yvele, lat thow God yworthe
Michi vindictam et ego retribuam.
And if thow wilt be gracious to God, do as the Gospel techeth,
And bilove thee amonges lowe men - so shaltow lacche grace
Facite vobis amicos de mammona iniquitatis.'

'I wolde noght greve God,' quod Piers,-for al the good on grounde!'
Mighte I synnelees do as thow seist?' seide Piers thanne.
'Ye, I bihote thee,' quod Hunger, 'or ellis the Bible lieth
Go to Genesis the geaunt, the engendrour of us alle
''In sudore and swynk thow shalt thi mete tilie,
And laboure for thi liflode,'' and so Oure Lord highte.
And Sapience seith the same - I seigh it in the Bible
'' Piger pro frigore no feeld nolde tilie -
And therfore he shal begge and bidde, and no man bete his hunger.''
' Mathew with mannes face moutheth thise wordes -
That servus nequam hadde a mnam, and for he wolde noght chaffare,
He hadde maugree of his maister everemoore after;
And bynam hym his mnam for he ne wolde werche,
And yaf that mnam to hym that ten mnames hadde,
And with that he seide, that Holy Chirche it herde
'' He that hath shal have and helpe there it nedeth;
And he that noght hath shal noght have, and no man hym helpe,
And that he weneth wel to have, I wole it hym bireve.''
' Kynde Wit wolde that ech a wight wroghte,
Or in [te]chynge or in [tell]ynge or travaillynge in preieres -
Contemplatif lif or Actif lif, Crist wolde men wroghte.
The Sauter seith in the psalme of Beati omnes,
The freke that fedeth hymself with his feithful labour,
He is blessed by the book in body and in soule
Labores manuum tuarum &c.'
' Yet I preie yow,' quod Fiers, 'pur charite, and ye konne
Any leef of lechecraft, lere it me, my deere;
For some of my servaunts and myself bothe
Of al a wike werche noght, so oure wombe aketh.'

'I woot wel,' quod Hunger, 'what siknesse yow eyleth;
Ye han manged over muche - that maketh yow grone.
Ac I hote thee,' quod Hunger, 'as thow thyn hele wilnest,
That thow drynke no day er thow dyne somwhat.
Ete noght, I hote thee, er hunger thee take
And sende thee of his sauce to savore with thi lippes;
And keep som til soper tyme and sitte noght to longe;
Arys up er appetit have eten his fille.
Lat noght Sire Surfet sitten at thi borde -
Love hym noght, for he is lecherous and likerous of tonge,
And after many maner metes his mawe is afyngred.
'And if thow diete thee thus, I dar legge myn eris
That Phisik shal his furred hood for his fode selle,
And his cloke of Calabre with alle the knappes of golde,
And be fayn, by my feith, his phisik to lete,
And lerne to laboure with lond [lest] liflode [hym faille].
Ther aren mo [li]eres than leches - Lord hem amende!
They do men deye thorugh hir drynkes er destynee it wolde.'
' By Seint Poul,' quod Piers, 'thise arn profitable wordes!
For this is a lovely lesson, Lord it thee foryelde!
Wend now, Hunger, whan thow wolt, that wel be thow evere.'
' I bihote God,' quod Hunger, ' hennes ne wole I wende
[Er] I have dyned bi this day and ydronke bothe.'
' I have no peny,' quod Piers, 'pulettes to bugge,
Neither gees ne grys, but two grene cheses,
A fewe cruddes and creme and [a cake of otes],
And two loves of benes and bran ybake for my fauntes.
And yet I seye, by my soule, I have no salt bacon
Ne no cokeney, by Crist, coloppes to maken!

Ac I have percile and porettes and manye [plaunte coles],
And ek a cow and a calf, and a cart mare
To drawe afeld my donge the while the droghte lasteth.
By this liflode we mote lyve til Lammesse tyme.
And by that I hope to have hervest in my crofte;
Thanne may I dighte thi dyner as me deere liketh.'
Al the povere peple tho pescoddes fetten;
Benes and baken apples thei broghte in hir lappes,
Chibolles and chervelles and ripe chiries manye,
And profrede Piers this present to plese with Hunger.
Al Hunger eet in haste and axed after moore.
Thanne povere folk for fere fedden Hunger yerne;
With grene poret and pesen to poisone hym thei thoghte!
By that it neghed neer hervest and newe corn cam to chepyng;
Thanne was folk fayn, and fedde Hunger with the beste -
With good ale, as Gloton taghte - and garte Hunger to slepe.
And tho wolde Wastour noght werche, but wandren aboute,
Ne no beggere ete breed that benes inne were,
But of coket and clermatyn or ellis of clene whete,
Ne noon halfpeny ale in none wise drynke,
But of the beste and of the brunneste that [brewesteres] selle.
Laborers that have no land to lyve on but hire handes
Deyned nought to dyne aday nyght-olde wortes;
May no peny ale hem paie, ne no pece of bacoun,
But if it be fressh flessh outher fissh fryed outher ybake -
And that chaud and plus chaud, for chillynge of hir mawe.
And but if he be heighliche hyred, ellis wole he chide -
And that he was werkman wroght wa[ri]e the tyme.

Ayeins Catons counseil comseth he to jangle
Paupertatis onus pacienter ferre memento.
He greveth hym ageyn God and gruccheth ageyn Reson.
And thanne corseth he the Kyng and al his Counseil after
Swiche lawes to loke, laborers to greve.
Ac whiles Hunger was hir maister, ther wolde noon of hem chide,
Ne stryven ayeins his statut, so sterneliche he loked!
Ac I warne yow werkmen - wynneth whil ye mowe,
For Hunger hiderward hasteth hym faste!
He shal awake [thorugh] water, wastours to chaste,
Er fyve yer be fulfilled swich famyn shal aryse
Thorugh flodes and thorugh foule wedres, fruytes shul faille -
And so seith Saturne and sent yow to warne
Whan ye se the [mo]ne amys and two monkes heddes,
And a mayde have the maistrie, and multiplie by eighte,
Thanne shal deeth withdrawe and derthe be justice,
And Dawe the Dykere deye for hunger -
But if God of his goodnesse graunte us a trewe.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 14

'I have but oon hool hater,' quod Haukyn, 'I am the lasse to blame
Though it be soiled and selde clene - I slepe therinne o nyghtes;
And also I have an houswif, hewen and children -
Uxorem duxi, et ideo non possum venire -
That wollen bymolen it many tyme, maugree my chekes.

It hath be laved in Lente and out of Lente bothe
With the sope of siknesse, that seketh wonder depe,
And with the losse of catel, that looth me w[ere]
For to agulte God or any good man, by aught that I wiste;
And was shryven of the preest, that [for my synnes gaf me]
To penaunce, pacience, and povere men to fede,
Al for coveitise of my Cristendom in clennesse to kepen it.
And kouthe I nevere, by Crist! kepen it clene an houre,
That I ne soiled it with sighte or som ydel speche,
Or thorugh werk or thorugh word, or wille of myn herte,
That I ne flobre it foule fro morwe til even.'
'And I shal kenne thee,' quod Conscience, 'of Contricion to make
That shal clawe thi cote of alle kynnes filthe -
Cordis contricio
Dowel shal wasshen it and wryngen it thorugh a wis confessour -
Oris confessio
Dobet shal beten it and bouken it as bright as any scarlet,
And engreynen it with good wille and Goddes grace to amende the,
And sithen sende thee to Satisfaccion for to sonnen it after
Satisfaccio.
'And Dobest kepe[th] clene from unkynde werkes.
Shal nevere my[te] bymolen it, ne mothe after biten it,
Ne fend ne fals man defoulen it in thi lyve.
Shal noon heraud ne harpour have a fairer garnement
Than Haukyn the Actif man, and thow do by my techyng,
Ne no mynstrall be moore worth amonges povere and riche
Than Haukyn wi[l] the wafrer, which is Activa Vita.'
'And I shal purveie thee paast,' quod Pacience, 'though no plough erye,
And flour to fede folk with as best be for the soule;
Though nevere greyn growed, ne grape upon vyne,
Alle that lyveth and loketh liflode wolde I fynde,
And that ynogh - shal noon faille of thyng that hem nedeth.

We sholde noght be to bisy abouten oure liflode
Ne soliciti sitis Volucres celi Deus pascit Pacientes vincunt
Thanne laughed Haukyn a litel, and lightly gan swerye,
'Whoso leveth yow, by Oure Lord, I leve noght he be blessed!'
'No?' quod Pacience paciently, and out of his poke hente
Vitailles of grete vertues for alle manere beestes,
And seide, ' Lo! here liflode ynogh, if oure bileve be trewe.
For lent nevere was lif but liflode were shapen,
Wherof or wherfore or wherby to libbe.
' First the wilde worm under weet erthe,
Fissh to lyve in the flood, and in the fir the criket,
The corlew by kynde of the eyr, moost clennest flessh of briddes,
And bestes by gras and by greyn and by grene rootes,
In menynge that alle men myghte the same
Lyve thorugh leel bileve and love, as God witnesseth
Quodcumque pecieritis a patre in nomine meo Et alibi, Non
in solo pane vivit homo, set in omni verbo, quod procedit de ore Dei;'
But I lokede what liflode it was that Pacience so preisede;
And thanne was it a pece of the Paternoster - Fiat voluntas tua.
'Have, Haukyn,' quod Pacience, 'and et this whan the hungreth,
Or whan thow clomsest for cold or clyngest for droughte;
And shul nevere gyves thee greve ne gret lordes wrathe,
Aison ne peyne - for pacientes vincunt.
By so that thow be sobre of sighte and of tonge,
In [ond]ynge and in handlynge and in alle thi fyve wittes,
Darstow nevere care for corn ne lynnen cloth ne wollen,
Ne for drynke, ne deeth drede, but deye as God liketh,
Or thorugh hunger or thorugh hete - at his wille be it.
For if thow lyvest after his loore, the shorter lif the bettre
Si quis amat Christum mundum non diligit istum.

'For thorugh his breeth beestes woxen and abrood yeden
Dixit et facta sunt,
Ergo thorugh his breeth mowen [bothe] men and beestes lyven,
As Holy Writ witnesseth whan men seye hir graces
*Aperis tu manum tuam, et imples omne animal benediccione.
'It is founden that fourty wynter folk lyvede withouten tulying,
And out of the flynt sprong the flood that folk and beestes dronken;
And in Elyes tyme hevene was yclosed,
That no reyn ne roon - thus rede men in bokes,
That manye wyntres men lyveden and no mete ne tulieden.
'Sevene slepe, as seith the book, sevene hundred wynter,
And lyveden withouten lifiode - and at the laste thei woken.
And if men lyvede as mesure wolde, sholde nevere moore be defaute
Amonges Cristene creatures, if Cristes wordes ben trewe.
Ac unkyndenesse caristiam maketh amonges Cristen peple,
And over-plentee maketh pryde amonges poore and riche;
Ac mesure is so muche worth it may noght be to deere;
For the meschief and the meschaunce amonges men of Sodome
Weex thorugh plentee of payn and of pure sleuthe
Ociositas et habundancia panis peccatum turpissimum nutrivit.
For thei mesured noght hemself of that thei ete and dronke,
Diden dedly synne that the devel liked,
Vengeaunce fil upon hem for hir vile synnes;
[So] thei sonken into helle, the citees echone.
' Forthi mesure we us wel and make oure feith oure sheltrom;
And thorugh feith cometh contricion, conscience woot wel,
Which dryveth awey dedly synne and dooth it to be venial.
And though a man myghte noght speke, contricion myghte hym save,

And brynge his soule to blisse, by so that feith bere witnesse
That whiles he lyvede he bilevede in the loore of Holy Chirche.
Ergo contricion, feith and conscience is kyndeliche Dowel,
And surgiens for dedly synnes whan shrift of mouthe failleth.
Ac shrift of mouth moore worthi is, if man be ynliche contrit,
For shrift of mouthe sleeth synne be it never so dedly -
Per confessionem to a preest peccata occiduntur -
Ther contricion dooth but dryveth it doun into a venial synne,
As David seith in the Sauter, et quorum tecta sunt peccata.
Ac satisfaccion seketh out the roote, and bothe sleeth and voideth,
And as it nevere [n]adde ybe, to noghte bryngeth dedly synne,
That it nevere eft is sene ne soor, but semeth a wounde yheeled.'
'Where wonyeth Charite?' quod Haukyn. 'I wiste nevere in my lyve
Man that with hym spak, as wide as I have passed.'
'Ther parfit truthe and poore herte is, and pacience of tonge -
There is Chante the chief, chaumbrere for God hymselve.'
'Wheither paciente poverte,' quod Haukyn, 'be moore plesaunt to Oure Dright
Than richesse rightfulliche wonne and resonably despended?'
' Ye - quis est ilie?' quod Pacience, ' quik - laudabimus eum !
Though men rede of richesse right to the worldes ende,
I wiste nevere renk that riche was, that whan he rekene sholde,
Whan he drogh to his deeth day, that he ne dredde hym soore,
And that at the rekenyng in arrerage fel, rather than out of dette.
Ther the poore dar plede, and preve by pure reson
To have allowaunce of his lord; by the lawe he it cleymeth
Joye, that nevere joye hadde, of rightful jugge he asketh,
And seith, ''Lo! briddes and beestes, that no blisse ne knoweth,
And wilde wormes in wodes, thorugh wyntres thow hem grevest,
And makest hem wel neigh meke and mylde fer defaute,
And after thew sedet hem somer, that is hir soveyn joye,

And blisse to alle that ben, bothe wilde and tame.'
'Thanne may boggeris, as beestes, after boote waiten,
That al hir lif han lyved in langour and in defaute.
But God sente hem som tyme som manere joye
Outher here or elliswhere, kynde wolde it nevere;
For to wrotherhele was he wroght that nevere was joye shapen!
'Aungeles that in helle now ben hadden joye som tyme,
And Dives in deyntees lyvede and in douce vie;
Right so reson sheweth that tho men that [riche were]
And hir makes also lyvede hir lif in murthe.
'Ac God is of a wonder wille, by that kynde wit sheweth,
To yyve many men his mercymonye er he it have deserved.
Right so fareth God by some richeruthe me it thynketh -
For thei han hir hire heer, and hevene, as it were,
And greet likynge to lyve withouten labour of bodye,
And whan he dyeth, ben disalowed, as David seith in the Sauter
Dormierunt et nichil invenerunt; et alibi, Velud sompnum surgencium,
Domine, in civitate tua, et ad nichilum rediges &c.
Allas, that richesse shal reve and robbe mannes soule
From the love of Oure Lord at his laste ende!
' Hewen that han hir hire afore arn everemoore nedy;
And selden deyeth he out of dette that dyneth er he deserve it
And til he have doon his devoir and his dayes journee.
For whan a werkman hath wroght, than may men se the sothe -
What he were worthi for his werk, and what he hath deserved,
And noght to fonge bifore, for drede of disalowyng.
'So I seye by yow riche - it semeth noght that ye shulle
Have hevene in youre here-beyng and hevene therafter,

Right as a servaunt taketh his salarie bifore, and siththe wolde clayme moore,
As he that noon hadde, and hath hire at the laste.
It may noght be, ye riche men, or Mathew on God lyeth
De deliciis ad delicias difficile est transire !
'Ac if ye riche have ruthe, and rewarde wel the poore,
And lyven as lawe techeth, doon leaute to hem alle,
Crist of his curteisie shal conforte yow at the laste
And rewarden alle double richesse that rewful hertes habbeth.
And as an hyne that hadde his hire er he bigonne,
And whan he hath doon his devoir wel, men dooth hym oother bountee -
Yyveth hym a cote above his covenaunt - right so Crist yyveth hevene
Bothe to riche and to noght riche that rewfulliche libbeth;
And alle that doon hir devoir wel han double hire for hir travaille -
Here forgifnesse of hir synnes, and hevene blisse after.
'Ac it is but selde yseien, as by holy seintes bokes,
That God rewarded double reste to any riche wye.
For muche murthe is amonges riche, as in mete and clothyng,
And muche murthe in May is amonges wilde beestes,
And so forth while somer lasteth hir solace dureth.
Ac beggeris aboute Midsomer bredlees thei soupe,
And yet is wynter for hem worse, for weetshoed thei gauge,
Afurst soore and afyngred, and foule yrebuked
And arated of riche men, that ruthe is to here . . .
Now, Lord, sende hem somer, and som maner joye,
Hevene after hir hennes goyng, that here han swich defaute!
For alle myghtestow have maad noon mener than oother,
And yliche witty and wise, if thee wel hadde liked.
And have ruthe on thise riche men that rewarde noght thi prisoners;
Of the good that thow hem gyvest ingrati ben manye;
Ac God, of thi goodnesse, gyve hem grace to amende.
For may no derthe be hem deere, droghte ne weet,
Ne neither hete ne hayll, have thei hir heele;
Of that thei wilne and wolde wanteth hem noght here.
'Ac poore peple, thi prisoners, Lord, in the put of meschief -

Conforte tho creatures that muche care suffren
Thorugh derthe, thorugh droghte, alle hir dayes here,
Wo in wynter tymes for wantynge of clothes,
And in somer tyme selde soupen to the fulle;
Conforte thi carefulle, Crist, in thi riche -
For how thow confortest alle creatures clerkes bereth witnesse
Convertimini ad me et salvi eritis.
'Thus in genere of gentries Jesu Crist seide
To robberis and to reveris, to riche and to poore,
To hores, to harlotes, to alle maner peple,
Thou taughtest hem in the Trinite to taken bapteme
And be clene thorugh that cristnyng of alle kynnes synne,
And if us fille thorugh folie to falle in synne after,
Confession and knowlichynge and cravynge thi mercy
Shulde amenden us as manye sithes as man wolde desire.
Ac if the pouke wolde plede herayein, and punysshe us in conscience,
We sholde take the acquitaunce as quyk and to the queed shewen it -
Pateat &cPer passionem Domini -
And putten of so the pouke, and preven us under borwe.
Ac the parchemyn of this patente of poverte be moste,
And of pure pacience and parfit bileve.
Of pompe and of pride the parchemyn decourreth,
And principalliche of alle peple; but thei be poore of herte.
Ellis is al on ydel, al that evere we wr[ogh]ten -
Paternostres and penaunce and pilgrimage to Rome,

But oure spences and spendynge sprynge of a trewe welle;
Ellis is al oure labour lost - lo, how men writeth
In fenestres at the freres! - if fals be the foundement.
Forthi Cristene sholde be in commune riche, noon coveitous for hymselve.
' For sevene synnes ther ben, that assaillen us evere;
The fend folweth hem alle and fondeth hem to helpe,
Ac with richesse tho ribaudes rathest men bigileth.
For ther that richesse regneth, reverences folweth,
And that is plesaunt to pride, in poore and in riche.
And the riche is reverenced by reson of his richesse
Ther the poore is put bihynde, and paraventure kan moore
Of wit and of wisdom, that fer awey is bettre
Than richesse or reautee, and rather yherd in hevene.
For the riche hath muche to rekene, and right softe walketh;
The heighe wey to heveneward ofte richesse letteth -
Ita inpossibile diviti &c -
Ther the poore preesseth bifore, with a pak at his rugge -
Opera enim illorum sequuntur illos -
Batauntliche, as beggeris doon, and boldeliche he craveth
For his poverte and his pacience a perpetuel blisse
Beati pauperesquoniam ipsorum est regnum celorum.
'And pride in richesse regneth rather than in poverte
Or in the maister or in the man som mansion he haveth.
Ac in poverte ther pacience is, Pride hath no mygte,
Ne none of the sevene synnes sitten ne mowe ther longe,
Ne have power in poverte, if pacience it folwe.
For the poore is ay prest to plese the riche,

And buxom at his biddyng for his broke loves;
And buxomnesse and boost ben everemoore at werre,
And either hateth oother in alle maner werkes.
If Wrathe wrastle with the poore he hath the worse ende,
For if thei bothe pleyne, the poore is but feble,
And if he chide or chatre, hym cheveth the worse,
For lowliche he loketh and lovelich is his speche
That mete or money of othere men moot asken.
'And if Glotonie greve poverte, he gadereth the lasse.
For his rentes wol naught reche no riche metes to bigge;
And though his glotonye be to good ale, he goth to cold beddyng,
And his heved unheled, unesiliche ywrye -
For whan he streyneth hym to strecche, the strawe is his shetes.
So for his Glotome and his greete Sleuthe he hath a grevous penaunce,
That is welawo whan he waketh and wepeth for colde -
And som tyme for his synnes - so he is nevere murie
Withoute mournynge amonge and meschief to bote.
'And though Coveitise wolde cacche the poore, thei may noght come togideres
And by the nekke, namely, hir noon may hente oother.
For men knowen wel that Coveitise is of a kene wille,
And hath hondes and armes of a long lengthe,
And Poverte nys but a petit thyng, apereth noght to his navele -
And lovely layk was it nevere bitwene the longe and the shorte.
And though Avarice wolde angre the poore, he hath but litel myghte,
Fer Poverte hath but pokes to putten in hise goodes,

Ther Avarice hath almaries and yren-bounden cofres.
And wheither be lighter to breke? Lasse boost it maketh -
A beggeris baggethan an yren-bounde cofre !
' Lecherie loveth hym noght, for he yyveth but litel silver,
Ne dooth hym noght dyne delicatly ne drynke wyn ofte.
A straw for the stuwes! It stoode noght, I trowe,
Hadde thei noon [haunt] but of poore men - hir houses stoode untyled!
'And though Sleuthe suwe Poverte, and serve noght God to paie,
Meschief is his maister, and maketh hym to thynke
That God is his grettest help and no gorne ellis,
And he his servaunt, as he seith, and of his sute bothe.
And wheither he be or be noght, he bereth the signe of poverte,
And in that secte Oure Saveour saved al mankynde.
Forthi al poore that pacient is, may [asken and cleymen],
After hir endynge here, heveneriche blisse.
'Muche hardier may he asken, that here myghte have his wille
In lond and in lordshipe and likynge of bodie,
And for Goddes love leveth al and lyveth as a beggere.
And as a mayde for mannes love hire moder forsaketh,
Hir fader and alle hire frendes, and folweth hir make -
Muche is that maide to love of [a man] that swich oon taketh,
Moore than a maiden is that is maried thorugh brocage,
As by assent of sondry parties and silver to boote,
Moore for coveitise of good than kynde love of bothe -
So it fareth by ech a persone that possession forsaketh
And put hym to be pacient, and poverte weddeth,

The which is sib to God hymself, and so neigh is poverte.'
'Have God-my trouthe,' quod Haukyn, 'l here ye preise faste poverte.
What is poverte, Pacience,' quod he, 'proprely to mene?'
' Paupertas.' quod Pacience, ' est odibile bonum -
Remocio curarum, possessio sine calumpnia, donum Dei,
sanitatis mater, absque sollicitudine semita, sapiencie
temperatrix, negocium sine dampno, incerta fortuna,
absque sollicitudine felicitas.'
'I kan noght construe al this,' quod Haukyn, 'ye moste kenne me this on Englis
' In Englissh,' quod Pacience, 'it is wel hard, wel to expounen,
Ac somdeel I shal seyen it, by so thow understonde.
Poverte is the firste point that Pride moost hateth;
Thanne is it good by good skile - al that agasteth pride.
Right as contricion is confortable thyng, conseience woot wel,
And a sorwe of hymself, and a solace to the soule,
So poverte propreliche penaunce [is to the body
And joye also to the soule], pure spiritual helthe,
And contricion confort, and cura animarum
Ergo paupertas est odibile bonum.
'Selde sit poverte the sothe to declare,
Or as justice to jugge men enjoyned is no poore,
Ne to be mair above men, ne mynystre under kynges;

Selde is any poore yput to punysshen any peple;
Remocio curarum.
Ergo poverte and poore men parfournen the comaundement -

Nolite iudicare quemquam.
'Selde is poore right riche but of rightful heritage
Wynneth he noght with wightes false ne with unseled mesures,
Ne borweth of hise neighebores but that he may wel paie
Possessio sine calumpnia.
'The ferthe is afor-tune that florissheth the soule
With sobretee fram alle synne and also yit moore;
It afaiteth the flessh fram folies ful manye -
A collateral confort, Cristes owene yifte
Donum Dei.
'The fifte is moder of [myght and of mannes] hele,
A frend in alle fondynges, [of foule yveles leche],
And for the lewde evere yliche a lemman of alle clennesse
Sanitatis mater.
'The sixte is a path of pees - ye, thorugh the paas of Aulton
Poverte myghte passe withouten peril of robbyng!
For ther that Poverte passeth pees folweth after,
And ever the lasse that he [led]eth, the [light]er he is of herte -
Cantabit paupertas coram latrone viator -
And an hardy man of herte among an heep of theves;
Forthi seith Seneca Paupertas est absque sollicitudine semita.
'The seventhe is welle of wisedorn and fewe wordes sheweth,
For lordes alloweth hym litel or listneth to his reson.
He tempreth the tonge to trutheward, that no tresor coveiteth
Sapiencie temperatrix.
'The eightethe is a lele labour and looth to take moore

Than he may [sothly] deserve, in somer or in wynter,
And if he chaffareth, he chargeth no losse mowe he charite wynne
Negocium sine dampno.
'The nynthe is swete to the soule, no sugre is swetter;
For pacience is payn for poverte hymselve,
And sobretee swete drynke and good leche in siknesse.
Thus lered me a lered man for Oure Lordes love, Seint Austyn -
A blessed lif withouten bisynesse for body and for soule
Absque sollicitudine felicitas.
Now God, that alle good gyveth, graunte his soule reste
That thus first wroot to wissen men what Poverte was to mene!'
'Allas,' quod Haukyn the Actif Man tho, 'that after my cristendom
I ne hadde be deed and dolven for Dowelis sake!
So hard it is,' quod Haukyn, 'to lyve and to do synne.
Synne seweth us evere,' quod he, and sory gan wexe,
And wepte water with hise eighen and weyled the tyme
That evere he dide dede that deere God displesed -
Swouned and sobbed and siked ful ofte
That evere he hadde lond or lordshipe, lasse other moore,
Or maistrie over any man mo than of hymselve..
' I were noght worthi, woot God,' quod Haukyn, ' to werien any clothes,
Ne neither sherte ne shoon, save for shame one
To covere my careyne', quod he, and cride mercy faste,
And wepte and wailede - and therwith I awakede.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 20

Thanne as I wente by the way, whan I was thus awaked,
Hevy chered I yede, and elenge in herte;
For I ne wiste wher to ete ne at what place,
And it neghed neigh the noon, and with Nede I mette,
That afrounted me foule and faitour me called.
'Coudestow noght excuse thee, as dide the kyng and othere -
That thow toke to thy bilyve, to clothes and to sustenaunce,
Was by techynge and by tellynge of Spiritus Temperancie,
And that thow nome na moore than nede thee taughte,
And nede ne hath no lawe, ne nevere shal falle in dette
For thre thynges he taketh his lif for to save? -
That is, mete whan men hym werneth, and he no moneye weldeth,
Ne wight noon wol ben his borugh, ne wed hath noon to legge;
And he ca[cch]e in that caas and come therto by sleighte,

He synneth noght, soothliche, that so wynneth his foode.
And though he come so to a clooth, and kan no bettre chevyssaunce,
Nede anoon righte nymeth hym under maynprise.
And if hym list for to lape, the lawe of kynde wolde
That he dronke at ech dych, er he [deide for thurst].
So Nede, at gret nede, may nymen as for his owene,
Withouten conseil of Conscience or Cardynale Vertues -
So that he sewe and save Spiritus Temperancie.
'For is no vertue bi fer to Spiritus Temperancie -
Neither Spiritus Iusticie ne Spiritus Fortitudinis.
For Spiritus Fortitudinis forfeteth ful ofte
He shal do moore than mesure many tyme and ofte,
And bete men over bittre, and som body to litel,
And greve men gretter than good feith it wolde.
'And Spiritus Iusticie shal juggen, wole he, nel he,
After the kynges counseil and the comune like.
And Spiritus Prudencie in many a point shal faille
Of that he weneth wolde falle if his wit ne weere.
Wenynge is no wysdom, ne wys ymaginacion
Homo proponit et Deus disponit -
[God] governeth alle goode vertues;
And Nede is next hym, for anoon he meketh
And as lowe as a lomb, for lakkyng that hym nedeth;
For nede maketh nede fele nedes lowe-herted.
Philosophres forsoke welthe for thei wolde be nedy,
And woneden wel elengely and wolde noght be riche.
'And God al his grete joye goostliche he lefte,
And cam and took mankynde and bicam nedy.'
So he was nedy, as seith the Book, in manye sondry places,
That he seide in his some on the selve roode,
''the Fox and fowel may fle to hole and crepe,

And the fissh hath fyn to flete with to reste,
Ther nede hath ynome me, that I moot nede abide
And suffre sorwes ful soure, that shal to joye torne.''
Forthi be noght abasshed to bide and to be nedy,
Sith he that wroghte al the world was wilfulliche nedy,
Ne nevere noon so nedy ne poverer deide.'
Whan Nede hadde undernome rne thus, anoon I fil aslepe,
And mette ful merveillously that in mannes forme
Antecrist cam thanne, and al the crop of truthe
Torned it [tid] up-so-doun, and overtilte the roote,
And made fals sprynge and sprede and spede mennes nedes.
In ech a contree ther he cam he kutte awey truthe.
And gerte gile growe there as he a god weere.
Freres folwede that fend, for he gaf hem copes,
And religiouse reverenced hym and rongen hir belles,
And al the covent cam to welcome that tyraunt,
And alle hise as wel as hym - save oonly fooles;
Whiche fooles were wel gladdere to deye
Than to lyve lenger sith Leute was so rebuked,
And a fals fend Antecrist over alle folk regnede.
And that were rnylde men and holye, that no meschief dradden,
Defyed alle falsnesse and folk that it usede;
And what kyng that hem conforted, knowynge h[ir] gile,
They cursed, and hir conseil - were it clerk or lewed.
Antecrist hadde thus soone hundredes at his baner,
And Pride bar it bare boldely aboute,
With a lord that lyveth after likyng of body,
That cam ayein Conscience, that kepere was and gyour
Over kynde Cristene and Cardynale Vertues.
'I conseille,' quod Conscience tho, 'cometh with me, ye fooles,
Into Unite Holy Chirche, and holde we us there.
And crye we to Kynde that he come and defende us
Fooles fro thise fendes lymes, for Piers love the Plowman.
And crye we on al the comune that thei come to Unitee,
And there abide and bikere ayeins Beliales children.'


Kynde Conscience tho herde, and cam out of the planetes,
And sente forth his forreyours - feveres and fluxes,
Coughes and cardiacles, crampes and toothaches,
Rewmes and radegundes and roynouse scalles,
Biles and bocches and brennynge agues,
Frenesies and foule yveles - forageres of Kynde
Hadde ypriked and prayed polles of peple;
Largeliche a legion lees hir lif soone.
There was ' Harrow!' and ' Help! Here cometh Kynde,
With Deeth that is dredful, to undo us alle!'
The lord that lyved after lust tho aloud cryde
After Confort, a knyght, to come and bere his baner.
'Alarme! Alarme!' quod that lord, 'ech lif kepe his owene!'
Thanne mette thise men, er mynstrals myghte pipe,
And er heraudes of armes hadden discryved lordes,
Elde the hoore; he was in the vauntwarde,
And bar the baner bifore Deeth - bi right he it cleymede.
Kynde cam after hym, with many kene soores,
As pokkes and pestilences - and muche peple shente;
So Kynde thorugh corrupcions kilde ful manye,
Deeth cam dryvynge after and al to duste passhed
Kynges and knyghtes, kaysers and popes.
Lered ne lewed, he lefte no man stonde
That he hitte evene, that evere stired after.
Manye a lovely lady and [hir] lemmans knyghtes
Swowned and swelted for sorwe of Dethes dyntes.
Conscience of his curteisie to Kynde he bisoughte
To cesse and suffre, and see wher thei wolde
Leve Pride pryvely and be parfite Cristene.
And Kynde cessede tho, to se the peple amende.
Fortune gan flatere thanne tho fewe that were alyve,
And bihighte hem long lif - and lecherie h
Amonges alle manere men, wedded and unwedded,

And gaderede a greet hoost al agayn Conscience.
'This Lecherie leide on with laughynge chiere
And with pryvee speche and peyntede wordes,
And armede hym in ydelnesse and in heigh berynge.
He bar a bowe in his hand and manye brode arewes,
Weren fethered with fair biheste and many a fals truthe.
With untidy tales he tened ful ofte
Conscience and his compaignye, of Holy Kirke the techeris.
Thanne cam Coveitise and caste how he myghte
Overcome Conscience and Cardinale Vertues,
And armed hym in avarice and hungriliche lyvede.
His wepne was al wiles, to wynnen and to hiden;
With glosynges and with gabbynges he giled the peple.
Symonye hym s[ue]de to assaille Conscience,
And preched to the peple, and prelates thei hem maden
To holden with Antecrist, hir temporaltees to save;
And cam to the kynges counseille as a kene baroun,
And kneled to Conscience in Court afore hem alle,
And garte Good Feith flee and Fals to abide;
And boldeliche bar adoun with many a bright noble
Muche of the wit and wisdom of Westmynstre Halle.
He jogged til a justice and justed in his eere,
And overtilte al his truthe with 'Tak this up amendement.'
And to the Arches in haste he yede anoon after,
And tornede Cyvyle into Symonye, and siththe he took the Official
For a menever mantel he made lele matrymoyne
Departen er deeth cam, and a devors shapte.
'Allas!' quod Conscience, and cryde tho, 'wolde Crist of his grace
That Coveitise were Cristene, that is so kene to fighte,
And boold and bidynge the while his bagge lasteth!'
And thanne lough Lyf, and leet daggen hise clothes,

And armed hym in haste in harlotes wordes,
And heeld Holynesse a jape and Hendenesse a wastour,
And leet Leautee a cherl and Lyere a fre man;
Conscience and counseil, he counted it folye.
Thus relyede Lif for a litel fortune,
And priked forth with Pride - preiseth he no vertue,
Ne careth noght how Kynde slow, and shal come at the laste
And kille alle erthely creature save Conscience oone.
Lyf lepte aside and laughte hym a lemman.
'Heele and I,' quod he, 'and heighnesse of herte
Shal do thee noght drede neither deeth ne elde.
And to foryyte sorwe and yyve noght of synne.'
This likede Lif and his lemman Fortune,
And geten in hir glorie a gadelyng at the laste,
Oon that muche wo wroughte, Sleuthe was his name.
Sleuthe wax wonder yerne and soone was of age,
And wedded oon Wanhope, a wenche of the stuwes.
Hir sire was a sysour that nevere swoor truthe - -
Oon Tomme Two-tonge, atteynt at ech a queste.
This Sleuthe was war of werre, and a slynge made.
And threw drede of dispair a dozeyne myle aboute.
For care Conscience tho cryde upon Elde,
And bad hym fonde to fighte and afere Wanhope.
And Elde hente good hope, and hastiliche he shifte hym,
And wayved awey Wanhope and with Lif he fighteth.
And Lif fleigh for feere to Phisik after helpe,
And bisoughte hym of socour, and of his salve hadde,
And gaf hym gold good woon that gladede his herte -
And thei gyven hym ageyn a glazene howve.
Lyf leeved that lechecraft lette sholde Elde,
And dryven awey deeth with dyas and drogges.
And Elde auntred hym on Lyf - and at the laste he hitte
A phisicien with a furred hood, that he fel in a palsie,
And there dyed that doctour er thre dayes after.
'Now I se,' seide Lif, 'that surgerie ne phisik

May noght a myte availle to medle ayein Elde.'
And in hope of his heele good herte he hente
And rood so to Revel, a riche place and a murye -
The compaignye of confort men cleped it som tyme -
And Elde anoon after hym, and over myn heed yede,
And made me balled bifore and bare on the croune
So harde he yede over myn heed it wol be sene evere.
'Sire yvele ytaught Elde!' quod I, 'unhende go with the!
Sith whanne was the wey over menne heddes?
Haddestow be hende,' quod I, 'thow woldest have asked leeve!'
'Ye - leve, lurdeyn?' quod he, and leyde on me with age,
And hitte me under the ere - unnethe may ich here.
Helbuffetted me aboute the mouth and bette out my wangteeth,
And gyved me in goutes - I may noght goon at large.
And of the wo that I was inne my wif hadde ruthe,
And wisshed wel witterly that I were in hevene.
For the lyme that she loved me fore, and leef was to feele -
On nyghtes, namely, whan we naked weere -
I ne myghte in no manere maken it at hir wille,
So Elde and he[o] hadden it forbeten.
And as I seet in this sorwe, I saugh how Kynde passede,
And deeth drogh neigh me - for drede gan I quake,
And cryde to Kynde, 'Out of care me brynge!
Lo! how Elde the hoore hath me biseye
Awreke me if youre wille be, for I wolde ben hennes!
'If thow wolt be wroken, wend into Unitee,
And hold thee there evere, til I sende for thee;
And loke thow konne som craft er thow come thennes.'
'Counseille me, Kynde,' quod I, 'what craft be best to lerne?'
'Lerne to love,' quod Kynde, 'and leef alle othere.'
'How shal I come to catel so, toclothe me and to feede?'
'And thow love lelly, lakke shal thee nevere
Weede ne worldly mete, while thi lif lasteth.'

And there by conseil of Kynde I comsed to rome
Thorugh Contricion and Confession til I cam to Unitee.
And there was Conscience conestable Cristene to save,
And bisegede soo[r]ly with sevene grete geaunts
That with Antecrist helden harde ayein Conscience.
Sleuthe with his slynge an hard saut he made.
Proude preestes coome with hym - pange an hundred
In paltokes and pyked shoes and pisseris longe knyves
Coomen ayein Conscience - with Coveitise thei helden.
'By the Marie!' quod a mansed preest, was of the march of Irlonde,
'I counte na moore Conscience, by so I cacche silver,
Than I do to drynke a draughte of good ale!'
And so seiden sixty of the same contree,
And shotten ayein with shot, many a sheef of othes,
And brode hoked arwes - Goddes herte and hise nayles -
And hadden almoost Unitee and holynesse adown.
Conscience cryede, ' Help, Clergie. or ellis I falle
Thorugh inparfite preestes and prelates of Holy Chirche!
Freres herden hym crye, and comen hym to helpe -
Ac for thei kouthe noght wel hir craft, Conscience forsook hem.
Nede neghede tho neer, and Conscience he tolde
That thei come for coveitise to have cure of soules.
'And for thei are povere, paraventure, for patrymoyne hem failleth,
Thei wol flatere, to fare wel, folk that ben riche.
And sithen thei chosen chele and cheitiftee, poverte -
Lat hem chewe as thei chose, and charge hem with no cure!
For lomere he lyeth, that liflode moot begge,
Than he that laboureth for liflode and leneth it beggeres.
And sithen freres forsoke the felicite of erthe,

Lat hem be as beggeris, or lyve by aungeles foode!'
Conscience of this counseil tho comsede for to laughe,
And curteisliche conforted hem and called in alle freres,
And seide, Sires, soothly welcome be ye alle
To Unitee and Holy Chirche - ac o thyng I yow preye
Holdeth yow in unitee, and haveth noon envye
To lered ne to lewed, but lyveth after youre reule.
And I wol be youre borugh, ye shal have breed and clothes
And othere necessaries ynowe - yow shal no thyng lakke,
With that ye leve logik and lerneth for to lovye.
For love lafte thei lordshipe, bothe lond and scole -
Frere Fraunceys and Domynyk - for love to be holye.
'And if ye coveite cure, Kynde wol yow telle
That in mesure God made alle manere thynges,
And sette it at a certein and at a siker nombre,
And nempnede hem names newe, and noumbrede the sterres
Qui numerat multitudinem stellarum et omnibus eis .
'Kynges and knyghtes, that kepen and defenden,
Han officers under hem, and ech of hem a certein.
And if thei wage men to werre, thei write hem in noumbre;
Wol no tresorere taken hem wages, travaille thei never so soore,
[But thei ben nempned in the noumbre of hem that ben ywaged].
Alle othere in bataille ben yholde brybours -
Pylours and pykeharneys, in ech a parisshe ycursed.
' Monkes and moniales and alle men of religion -
Hir ordre and hir reule wole to han a certein noumbre;
Of lewed and of lered the lawe wole and asketh
A certein for a certein - save oonliche of freres!

Forthi,' quod Conscience, 'by Crist! kynde wit me telleth
It is wikked to wage yow - ye wexen out of noumbre!
Hevene hath evene noumbre, and helle is withoute noumbre;
Forthi I wolde witterly that ye were in the registre
And youre noumbre under notarie sygne, and neither mo ne lasse!'
Envye herde this and heet freres go to scole
And lerne logyk and lawe - and ek contemplacion -
And preche men of Plato, and preve it by Seneca
That alle thynges under hevene oughte to ben in cornune.
He lyeth, as I leve, that to the lewed so precheth
For God made to men a lawe and Moyses it taughte -
Non concupisces rem proximi tui.
And yvele is this yholde in parisshes of Engelonde;
For persons and parissh preestes, that sholde the peple shryve,
Ben curatours called to knowe and to hele.
Alle that ben hir parisshens penaunces enjoigne,
And ben ashamed in hir shrift; ac shame maketh hem wende
And fleen to the freres - -as fals folk to Westmynstre,
That borweth, and bereth it thider, and thanne biddeth frendes
Yerne of foryifnesse or lenger yeres leve.
Ac while he is in Westmynstre he wol be bifore
And maken hym murie with oother menne goodes.
And so it fareth with muche folk that to freres shryveth;
As sisours and executours - thei shul yyve the freres

A parcel to preye for hem, and [purchace] hem mur[th]e
With the remenaunt that othere [renkes] biswonke,
And suffre the dede in dette to the day of doome.
Envye herfore hatede Conscience,
And freres to philosophie he fond hem to scole,
The while Coveitise and Unkyndenesse Conscience assaillede.
In Unitee Holy Chirche Conscience held hym,
And made Pees porter to pynne the yates
Of alle taletelleris and titeleris in ydel.
Ypocrisie and h[ii] an hard saut thei made.
Ypocrisie at the yate harde gan fighte,
And woundede wel wikkedly many a wise techere
That with Conscience acordede and Cardynale Vertues.
Conscience called a leche, that coude wel shryve,
To go salve tho that sike were and thorugh synne ywounded.
Shrift shoop sharp salve, and made men do penaunce
For hire mysdedes that thei wroght hadde,
And that Piers [pardon] were ypayed, redde quod debes.
Some liked noght this leche, and lettres thei sente,
If any surgien were in the sege that softer koude plastre.
Sire Leef-to-lyve-in-lecherie lay there and gronede;
For fastynge of a Fryday he ferde as he wolde deye
'Ther is a surgien in this sege that softe kan handle,
And moore of phisik bi fer, and fairer he plastreth -
Oon Frere Flaterere, is phisicien and surgien.'
Quod Contricion to Conscience, 'Do hym come to Unitee;
For here is many a man hurt thorugh Ypocrisye.'
'We han no nede,' quod Conscience, 'I woot no bettre leche
Than person or parissh preest, penitauncer or bisshop -
Save Piers the Plowman, that hath power over alle,
And indulgence may do, but if dette lette it.

I may wel suffre,' seide Conscience, 'syn ye desiren,
That Frere Flaterere be fet and phisike yow sike.'
The frere herof herde and hiede faste
To a lord for a lettre, leve to have to curen
As a curatour he were, and cam with his lettre
Boldely to the bisshop, and his brief hadde,
In contrees ther he coome, confessions to here -
And cam there Conseience was, and knokked at the yate.
Pees unpynned it, was porter of Unitee,
And in haste askede what his wille were.
'In faith,' quod this frere, 'for profit and for helthe
Carpe I wolde with Contricion, and therfore cam I hider,'
'He is sik,' seide Pees, 'and so are manye othere;
Ypocrisie hath hurt hem - ful hard is if thei kevere.'
'I am a surgien,' seide the frere, 'and salves can make.
Conscience knoweth me wel and what I kan do bothe.'
'I praye thee,' quod Pees tho, 'er thow passe ferther,
What hattestow? I praye thee, hele noght thi name.'
'Certes,' seide his felawe, ' Sire Penetrans-domos.'
'Ye? Go thi gate!' quod Pees, 'by God, for al thi phisik,
But thow konne any craft, thow comest nought herinne!
I knew swich oon ones, noght eighte wynter passed,
Coom in thus ycoped at a court there I dwelde,
And was my lordes leche - and my ladies bothe.
And at the laste this lymytour, tho my lord was oute,
He salvede so oure wommen til some were with childe.'
Hende-Speche heet Pees tho, ' Opene the yates.
Lat in the frere and his felawe, and make hem fair cheere.
He may se and here here, so may bifalle,
That Lif thorugh his loore shal leve coveitise,
And be adrad of deeth and withdrawe hym fram pryde,
And acorde with Conseience and kisse hir either oother.'
Thus thorugh Hende-Speche entred the frere,
And cam in to Conseience and curteisly hym grette.
' Thow art welcome,' quod Conscience, 'kanstow heele sike?
Here is Contricion,' quod Conscience, 'my cosyn, ywounded.
Conforte hym,' quod Conscience, 'and take kepe to hise soores.
The plastres of the person and poudres ben to soore,

And lat hem ligge overlonge and looth is to chaunge hem;
Fro Lenten to Lenten he lat his plastres bite.'
'That is overlonge!' quod this lymytour, ' I leve - I shal amende it' -
And gooth, gropeth Contricion, and gaf hym a plastre
Of 'A pryvee paiement, and I shal praye for yow,
And for al [hem] that ye ben holden to, al my lif tyme,
And make yow [and] my Lady in masse and in matyns
As freres of oure fraternytee for a litel silver.'
Thus he gooth and gadereth, and gloseth there he shryveth -
Til Contricion hadde clene foryeten to crye and to wepe,
And wake for hise wikked werkes as he was wont to doone.
For confort of his confessour contricion he lafte,
That is the soverayneste salve for alle[s]kynnes synnes.
Sleuth seigh that, and so dide Pryde,
And comen with a kene wille Conscience to assaille.
Conseience cryed eft [Clergie come] helpe hym,
And [bad] Contricion [come] to kepe the yate.
' He lith adreynt,' seide Pees, 'and so do manye othere;
The frere with his phisyk this folk hath enchaunted,
And plastred hem so esily [that hii] drede no synne!'
'By Crist!' quod Conscience tho, ' I wole bicome a pilgrym,
And walken as wide as the world lasteth,
To seken Piers the Plowman, that Pryde myghte destruye,
And that freres hadde a fyndyng, that for nede flateren
And countrepledeth me, Conscience. Now Kynde me avenge,
And sende me hap and heele, til I have Piers the Plowman!'
And siththe he gradde after Grace, til I gan awake.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 19

Thus I awaked and wroot what I hadde ydremed,
And dighte me derely, and dide me to chirche,
To here holly the masse and to be housled after.
In myddes of the masse, tho men yede to offryng,
I fel eftsoones aslepe - and sodeynly me mette
That Piers the Plowman was peynted al blody,
And com in with a cros bifore the comune peple,
And right lik in alle lymes to Oure Lord Jesu.
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe
'Is this Jesus the justere,' quod I, 'that Jewes dide to dethe?
Or it is Piers the Plowman! Who peynted hym so rede?'
Quod Conscience, and kneled tho, ' Thise arn Piers armes -
Hise colours and his cote armure; ac he that cometh so blody
Is Crist with his cros, conquerour of Cristene.'
'Why calle ye hym Crist?' quod I, 'sithen Jewes called hym Jesus?
Patriarkes and prophetes prophecied bifore
That alle kynne creatures sholden knelen and bowen
Anoon as men nempned the name of God Jesu.
Ergo is no name to the name of Jesus,
Ne noon so nedeful to nempne by nyghte ne by daye.
For alle derke develes arn adrad to heren it,
And synfulle aren solaced and saved by that name;
And ye callen hym Crist; for what cause, telleth me?
Is Crist moore of myght and moore worthi name
Than Jesu or Jesus, that al oure joye com of?'
'Thow knowest wel,' quod Conscience, 'and thow konne reson,
That knyght, kyng, conquerour may be o persone.
To be called a knyght is fair, for men shul knele to hym;
To be called a kyng is fairer, for he may knyghtes make;
Ac to be conquerour called, that cometh of special grace,
And of hardynesse of herte and of hendemesse -
To make lordes of laddes, of lond that he wynneth,
And fre men foule thralles, that folwen noght hise lawes.

'The Jewes, that were gentil men, Jesu thei despised -
Bothe his loore and his lawe; now are thei lowe cherles.
As wide as the world is, wonyeth ther noon
But under tribut and taillage as tikes and cherles;
And tho that bicome Cristene bi counseil of the Baptiste
Aren frankeleyns, free men thorugh fullynge that thei toke
And gentil men with Jesu - for Jesus was yfulled
And upon Calvarie on cros ycrouned kyng of Jewes.
' It bicometh to a kyng to kepe and to defende,
And conqueror of his conquest hise lawes and his large.
And so dide Jesus the Jewes - he justified and taughte hem
The lawe of lif that laste shal evere,
And fended from foule yveles, feveres and fiuxes,
And from fendes that in hem was, and false bileve.
Tho was he Jesus of Jewes called, gentile prophete,
And kyng of hir kyngdom, and croune bar of thornes.
'And tho conquered he on cros as conquerour noble;
Mighte no deeth hym fordo, ne adoun brynge,
That he n'aroos and regnede and ravysshed helle.
And tho was he conquerour called of quyke and of dede.
For he yaf Adam and Eve and othere mo blisse
That longe hadde yleyen bifore as Luciferis cherles.
And took [Lucifer the lothly], that lord was of helle,
And bond [hym] as [he is bounde], with bondes of yrene.
Who was hardiere than he? His herte blood he shadde
To maken alle folk free that folwen his lawe.
And sith he yeveth largely al his lele liges
Places in Paradis at hir partynge hennes,
He my wel be called conquerour - and that is ' Crist ' to mene.
'Ac the cause that he cometh thus with cros of his passion
Is to wissen us therwith, that whan we ben tempted,

Therwith to fighte and fenden us fro fallynge into synne,
And se bi his sorve that whoso loveth joye,
To penaunce and to poverte he moste puten hymselven,
And muche wo in this world wilnen and suffren.
'Ac to carpe moore of Crist, and how he com to that name,
Faithly for to speke, his firste name was jesus.
Tho he was born in Bethleem, as the Book telleth,
And cam to take mankynde, kynges and aungeles
Reverenced hym right faire with richesses of erthe.
Aungeles out of hevene come knelynge and songe,
Gloria in excelsis Deo .
'Kynges come after, knelede and offrede sense,
Mirre and muche gold withouten mercy askynge
Or any kynnes catel, but knoweliched[en] hym sovereyn
Both of sond, sonne and see, and sithenes thei wente
Into hir kyngene kith by counseil of aungeles.
And there was that word fulfilled the which thow of speke -
Omnia celestia, terrestria, flectantur in hoc nomine Iesu.
' For alle the aungeles of hevene at his burthe knelede,
And al the wit of the world was in tho thre kynges.
Reson and Rightwisnesse and Ruthe thei offrede,
Wherfore and why wise men that tyme
Maistres and lettred men, Magi hem callede.
' That o kyng cam with Reson, covered under sense.
The seconde kyng siththe soothliche offrede
Rightwisnesse under reed gold, Resones felawe.
Gold is likned to Leautee that laste shal evere,
And Reson to riche[ls] - to right and to truthe.
'The thridde kyng tho kam, and knelede to Jesu,
And presented hym with Pitee, apperynge by mirre;
For mirre is mercy to mene, and mylde speche of tonge.
Ertheliche honeste thynges was offred thus at ones

Thorugh thre kynne kynges knelynge to Jesu.
'Ac for alle thise preciouse presents Oure Lord Prynce Jesus
Was neither kyng ne conquerour til he [comsede] wexe
In the manere of a man, and that by muchel sleighte -
As it bicometh a conquerour to konne manye sleightes,
And manye wiles and wit, that wole ben a ledere;
And so dide Jesu in hise dayes, whoso hadde tyme to telle it.
'Som tyme he suffrede, and som tyme he hidde hym,
And som tyme he faught faste, and fleigh outherwhile,
And som tyme he gaf good and grauntede heele bothe,
Lif and lyme - as hym liste he wroghte.
As kynde is of a conquerour, so comsede Jesu
Til he hadde alle hem that he for bledde.
' In his juventee this Jesus at Jewene feeste
Water into wyn turnede, as Holy Writ telleth,
And there bigan God of his grace to do wel.
For wyn is likned to lawe and lifholynesse;
And lawe lakkede tho, for men lovede noght hir enemys;
And Crist counseileth thus - and comaundeth bothe -
Bothe to lered and to lewede, to lovyen oure enemys.
So at that feeste first, as I bifore tolde,
Bigan God of his grace and goodnesse to dowel
And tho was he cleped and called noght oonly Crist but Jesu -
A fauntekyn ful of wit, filius Marie.
For bifore his moder Marie made he that wonder,
That she first and formest sholde ferme bileve
That he thorugh Grace was gete, and of no gome ellis.
He wroghte that by no wit but thorugh word one,
After the kynde that he cam of; there comsede he Dowel.
'And whan he was woxen moore, in his moder absence,
He made lame to lepe and yaf light to blynde,
And fedde with two fisshes and with fyve lowes
Sore afyngred folk, mo than fyve thousand.
Thus he confortede carefulle and caughte a gretter name,
The which was Dobet, where that he wente.

For deve thorugh hise doynges and dombe speke and herde,
And alle he heeled and halp that hym of grace askede.
And tho was he called in contre of the comune peple,
For the dedes that he dide, Fili David, lhesus.
For David was doghtiest of dedes in his tyme,
The burdes tho songe, Saul interfecit mille et David decem milia.
Forthi the contree ther Jesu cam called hym fili David,
And nempned hym of Nazareth - and no man so worthi
To be kaiser or kyng of the kyngdom of Juda,
Ne over Jewes justice, as Jesus was, hem thoughte.
'Wherof hadde Cayphas envye, and othere of the Jewes,
And for to doon hym to dethe day and nyght thei casten;
And killeden hym on cros wise at Calvarie on Friday,
And sithen buriede his body, and beden that men sholde
Kepen it fro nyghtcomeris with knyghtes yarmed,
For no frend sholde it fecche; for prophetes hem tolde
That that blissede body of burieles sholde risen,
And goon into Galilee and gladen hise Apostles
And his moder Marie - thus men bifore demede.
'The knyghtes that kepten it biknewe hemselven
That aungeles and archaungeles er the day spronge
Come knelynge to that corps and songen
Christus resurgens - and it aroos after,
Verray man bifore hem alle, and forth with hem he yede.
'The Jewes preide hem of pees, and [pre-ide] the knyghtes
Telle the comune that ther cam a compaignie of hise Apostles
And biwicched hem as thei woke, and awey stolen it.

'Ac Marie Maudeleyne mette hym by the weye
Goynge toward Galilee in godhede and manhede,
And lyves and lokynge - and she aloud cride
In ech a compaignie ther she cam, '' Christus resurgens!''
Thus cam it out that Crist overcoom, recoverede and lyvede
Sic oportet Christum pati et intrare .
For that wommen witeth may noght wel be counseille!
'Peter parceyved al this and pursued after,
Bothe James and Johan, Jesu for to seke.
Thaddee and ten mo. with Thomas of Inde.
And as alle thise wise wyes weren togideres
In an hous al bishet and hir dore ybarred,
Crist cam in - and al closed both dore and yates -
To Peter and to hise Apostles, and seide, '' Pax vobis;'
And took Thomas by the hind and taughte hym to grope.
And feele with hise fyngres his flesshliche herte.
'Thomas touched it, and with his tonge seide,
' Dominus meus et Deus meus.
Thow art my lord, I bileve, God Lord Jesu!
Thow deidest and deeth tholedest and deme shalt us alle,
And now art lyvynge and lokynge, and laste shalt evere!'
'Crist carpede thanne, and curteisliche seide,
''Thomas, for thow trowest this and treweliche bilevest it,
Blessed mote thow be, and be shalt for evere.
And blessed mote thei be, in body and in soule,
That nevere shul se me in sighte as thow seest nowthe,
And lelliche bileve al this I love hem and blesse hem
Beati qui non viderunt et crediderunt.''
'And whan this dede was doon, Dobest he [thou]ghte,
And yaf Piers power, and pardon he grauntede
To alle maner men, mercy and foryifnesse;
[To] hym, myghte men to assoille of alle manere synnes.

In covenaunt that thei come and kneweliche to paye
To Piers pardon the Plowman - Redde quod debes.
'Thus hath Piers power, be his pardon paied,
To bynde and unbynde bothe here and ellis,
And assoille men of alle synnes save of dette one.
'Anoon after an heigh up into hevene
He wente, and wonyeth there, and wol come at the laste,
And rewarde hym right wel that reddit quod debet -
Paieth parfitly, as pure truthe wolde.
And what persone paieth it nought, punysshen he thenketh,
And demen hem at domesday, bothe quyke and dede -
The goode to the Godhede and to greet joye,
And wikkede to wonye in wo withouten ende.'
Thus Conscience of Crist and of the cros carpede,
And counseiled me to knele therto; and thanne cam, me thoughte,
Oon Spiritus Paraclitus to Piers and to hise felawes.
In liknesse of a lightnynge he lighte on hem alle
And made hem konne and knowe alle kynne langages.
I wondred what that was, and waggede Conscience,
And was afered of the light, for in fires liknesse
Spiritus Paraclitus overspradde hem alle.
Quod Conscience, and knelede, 'This is Cristes messager,
And cometh fro the grete God - Grace is his name.
Knele now,' quod Conscience, 'and if thow kanst synge,
Welcome hym and worshipe hym with Veni Creator Spiritus !'
Thanne song I that song, and so dide manye hundred,
And cride with Conscience, ' Help us, God of grace!'
And thanne bigan Grace to go with Piers Plowman,
And counseillede hym and Conscience the comune to sompne
'For I wole dele today and dyvyde grace
To alle kynne creatures that kan hise fyve wittes -
Tresour to lyve by to hir lyves ende.

And wepne to fighte with that wole nevere faille.
For Antecrist and hise al the world shul greve,
And acombre thee, Conscience, but if Crist thee helpe.
'And false prophetes fele, flatereris and gloseris,
Shullen come and be curatours over kynges and erles.
And thanne shal Pride be Pope and prynce of Holy Chirche,
Coveitise and Unkyndenesse Cardinals hym to lede.
Forthi,' quod Grace, 'er I go, I wol gyve yow tresor,
And wepne to fighte with whan Antecrist yow assailleth.'
And gaf ech man a grace to gye with hymselven,
That Ydelnesse encombre hym noght, ne Envye ne Pride
Divisiones graciarum sunt.
Some [wyes] he yaf wit, with wordes to shewe -
Wit to wynne hir liflode with, as the world asketh,
As prechours and preestes, and prentices of lawe -
They lelly to lyve by labour of tonge,
And by wit to wissen othere is grace hem wolde teche.
And some he kennede craft and konnynge of sighte.
With sellynge and [by] buggynge hir bilyve to wynne.
And some he lered to laboure on lond and on watre,
And lyve by that labour - a lele lif and a trewe.
And some he taughte to tilie, to dyche and to thecche,
To wynne with hir liflode bi loore of his techynge.
And some to devyne and divide, [diverse] noumbres to kenne
And some to compace craftily, and colours to make;
And some to se and to seye whit sholde bifalle,
Bothe of wele and of wo, telle it [wel] er it felle -
As astronomyens thorugh astronomye, and philosofres wise.
And some to ryde and to recovere that unrightfully was wonne
He wissed hem wynne it ayein thorugh wightnesse of handes,

And fecchen it fro false men with Folvyles lawes.
And some he lered to lyve in longynge to ben hennes,
In poverte and in pacience to preie for alle Cristene.
And alle he lered to be lele, and ech a craft love oother,
And forbad hem alle debat - that noon [be] among hem.
'Though some be clenner than some, ye se wel,' quod Grace,
'That he that useth the faireste craft, to the fouleste I kouthe have put hym.
Thynketh [that alle craftes, quod Grace]. 'cometh of my yifte;
Loketh that noon lakke oother, but loveth alle as bretheren.
'And who that moost maistries kan, be myldest of berynge;
And crouneth Conscience kyng, and maketh Craft youre stiward,
And after Craftes conseil clotheth yow and fede.
For I make Piers the Plowman my procuratour and my reve,
And registrer to receyve redde quod debes.
My prowor and my plowman Piers shal ben on erthe,
And for to tilie truthe a teeme shal he have.'
Grace gaf Piers a teeme - foure grete oxen.
That oon was Luk, a large beest and a lowe chered,
And Mark, and Mathew the thridde - myghty beestes bothe;
And joyned to hem oon Johan, moost gentil of alle,
The pris neet of Piers plow, passynge alle othere.
And yit Grace of his goodnesse gaf Piers foure stottes -
Al that hise oxen eriede, thei to harewen after.
Oon highte Austyn, and Ambrose another,
Gregori the grete clerk, and [the goode Jerom].
Thise foure, the feith to teche, folweth Piers teme,
And harewede in an handwhile al Holy Scripture
With two [aithes] that thei hadde, an oold and a newe,
Id est, Vetus Testamentum et Novum.
And Grace gaf Piers greynes - cardynales vertues,
And sew it in mannes soule, and sithen he tolde hir names.
Spiritus Prudencie the firste seed highte;

And whoso ete that, ymagynen he sholde,
Er he dide any dede, devyse wel the ende;
And lerned men a ladel bugge with a long stele
That caste for to kepe a crokke, and save the fatte above.
The seconde seed highte Spiritus Temperancie.
He that etc of that seed hadde swich a kynde,
Sholde nevere mete ne meschief make hym to swelle;
Ne sholde no scornere out of skile hym brynge;
Ne wynnynge ne wele of worldliche richesse,
Waste word of ydelnesse ne wikked speche moeve;
Sholde no curious clooth comen on his rugge,
Ne no mete in his mouth that Maister Johan spicede.
The thridde seed that Piers sew was Spiritus Fortitudinis;
And whoso ete of that seed hardy was evere
To suffren al that God sente, siknesse and angres.
Mighte no lesynges, ne lyere, ne los of worldly catel.
Maken hym, for any mournynge, that he nas murie in soule,
And bold and abidynge bismares to suffre,
And pletede al with pacience and Parce michi, Domine,
And covered hym under conseille of Caton the wise
Esto forti animo cum sis dampnatus inique.
The ferthe seed that Piers sew was Spiritus Iusticie,
And he that ete of that seed sholde be evere trewe
With God, and naught agast but of gile one.
For gile gooth so pryvely that geod feith outher while
May nought ben espied [thorugh] Spiritus Iusticie.

Spiritus Iusticie spareth noght to spille hem that ben gilty,
And for to correcte the kyng if he falle in [any kynnes] gilt.
For counteth he no kynges wrathe whan he in court sitteth
To demen as a domesman - adrad was he nevere
Neither of duc ne of deeth, that he ne dide the lawe;
For present or for preiere or any prynces lettres,
He dide equyte to alle eveneforth his power.
Thise foure sedes Piers sex, and siththe he dide hem harewe
With Olde Lawe and Newe Lawe, that love myghte wexe
Among thise foure vertues, and vices destruye.
' For comunliche in contrees cammokes and wedes
Foulen the fruyt in the feld ther thei growen togideres;
And so doon vices vertues - [f]orthi,' quod Piers,
'Hareweth alle that konneth kynde wit by conseil of thise doctours,
And tilieth after hir techynge the cardynale vertues.'
'Ayeins thi greynes,' quod Grace, ' bigynneth for to ripe,
Ordeigne thee an hous, Piers, to herberwe inne thi cornes.
'By God! Grace,' quod Piers, 'ye moten gyve tymber,
And ordeigne that hous er ye hennes wende.'
And Grace gaf hym the cros, with the croune of thornes,
That Crist upon Calvarie for mankynde on pyned;
And of his baptisme and blood that he bledde on roode
He made a manere morter, and mercy it highte.
And therwith Grace bigan to make a good foundement,
And watlede it and walled it with hise peynes and his passion,
And of al Holy Writ he made a roof after,
And called that hous Unite - Holy Chirche on Englissh.
And whan this dede was doon, Grace devysede
A cart highte Cristendom, to carie home Piers sheves,
And gaf hym caples to his carte, Contricion and Confession;
And made Preesthod hayward, the while hymself wente

As wide as the world is, with Piers to tilie truthe
And the lo[nd] of bileve, the lawe of Holy Chirche.
Now is Piers to the plow. Pride it aspide
And gadered hym a greet oostgreven he thynketh
Conscience and alle Cristene and Cardinale Vertues -
Blowe hem doun and breke hem and bite atwo the mores;
And sente forth Surquidous, his sergeaunt of armes,
And his spye Spille-Love, oon Spek-yvel-bihynde.
Thise two coome to Conscience and to Cristen peple,
And tolde hem tidynges - that tyne thei sholde
The sedes that [Sire] Piers sew, the Cardynale Vertues
'And Piers bern worth ybroke, and thei that ben in Unitee
Shulle come out, and Conscience; and youre [caples two],
Confession and Contricion, and youre carte the Bileeve
Shal be coloured so queyntely and covered under oure sophistrie,
That Conscience shal noght knowe by Contricion
Ne by Confession who is Cristene or hethene;
Ne no manere marchaunt that with moneye deleth
Wheither he wynne with right, with wrong or with usure.'
With swiche colours and queyntise cometh Pride y-armed,
With the lord that lyveth after the lust of his body -
'To wasten on welfare and on wikked kepynge
Al the world in a while thorugh oure wit!' quod Pryde.
Quod Conseience to alle Cristene tho, ' My counseil is to wende
Hastiliche into Unitee and holde we us there,
And praye we that a pees weere in Piers berne the Plowman.
For witterly, I woot wel, we beth noght of strengthe
To goon agayn Pride, but Grace weere with us.'
And thanne kam Kynde Wit Conscience to teche,
And cryde, and comaundede alle Cristene peple

For to delven and dyche depe aboute Unitee
That Holy Chirche stode in [holynesse], as it a pyl weere.
Conscience comaundede tho alle Cristene to delve,
And make a muche moot that myghte ben a strengthe
To helpe Holy Chirche and hem that it kepeth.
Thanne alle kynne Cristene - save comune wommen -
Repenteden and refusede synne, [right] save thei one,
And [a sisour and a somonour] that were forsworen ofte;
Witynge and wilfully with the false [thei] helden,
And for silver were forswore - soothly thei wiste it!
Ther nas no Cristene creature that kynde wit hadde -
Save sherewes one swiche as I spak of -
That he ne halp a quantite holynesse to wexe
Some by bedes biddynge and some by pilgrymage
And other pryve penaunce, and somme thorugh penyes delynge.
And thanne wellede water for wikkede werkes,
Egreliche ernynge out of mennes eighen.
Clennesse of the comune and clerkes clene lyvynge
Made Unitee Holy Chirche in holynesse stonde.
' I care noght,' quod Conscience, ' though Pride come nouthe;
The lord of lust shal be letted al this Lente, I hope.
Cometh,' quod Conscience, 'ye Cristene, and dyneth,
That han laboured lelly al this Lenten tyme.
Here is breed yblessed, and Goddes body therunder.
Grace, thorugh Goddes word, gaf Piers power,
Myght to maken it, and men to ete it after
In helpe of hir heele ones in a monthe,
Or as ofte as thei hadde nede, tho that hadde ypaied
To Piers pardon the Plowman, redde quod debes.'
' How?' quod al the comune. 'Thow conseillest us to yelde

Al that we owen any wight er we go to housel?'
'That is my conseil,' quod Conscience, 'and Cardinale Vertues;
That ech man foryyve oother, and that wole the Paternoster -
Et dimitte nobis debita nostra -
And so to ben assoilled, and siththen ben houseled.'
' Ye? Baw!' quod a brewere, ' I wol noght be ruled,
By Jesu! for al youre janglynge, with Spiritus Iusticie,
Ne after Conscience, by Crist! while I kan selle
Bothe dregges and draf, and drawe at oon hole
Thikke ale and thynne ale; that is my kynde,
And noght hakke after holynesse - hold thi tonge, Conscience!
Of Spiritus Iusticie thow spekest muche on ydel.'
' Caytif! ' quod Conscience, 'cursede wrecche!
Unblessed artow, brewere, but if thee God helpe.
But thow lyve by loore of Spiritus Iusticie,
The chief seed that Piers sew, ysaved worstow nevere.
But Conscience be the comune fode, and Cardinale Vertues,
Leve it wel, thei ben lost, bothe lif and soule.'
'Thanne is many [leode] lost!' quod a lewed vicory.
'I am a curatour of Holy Kirke, and cam nevere in my tyme
Man to me that me kouthe telle of Cardinale Vertues,
Or that acountede Conscience at a cokkes fethere!
I knew nevere Cardynal that he ne cam fro the Pope
And we clerkes, whan thei come, for hir comunes paieth,
For hir pelure and hir palfreyes mete and pilours that hem folweth.
The comune clamat cotidie, ech a man til oother,
''The contree is the corseder that cardinals come inne,
And ther thei ligge and lenge moost lecherie there regneth!''
' Forthi,' quod this vicory, ' by verray God! I wolde
That no cardynal coome among the comune peple,

But in hir holynesse helden hem stille
At Avynoun among Jewes - Cum sancto sanctus eris -
Or in Rome, as hir rule wole, the relikes to kepe;
And thow Conscience in kynges court, and sholdest nevere come thennes;
And Grace, that thow gredest so of, gyour of alle clerkes ;
And Piers with his newe plough and ek with his olde
Emperour of al the world - that alle men were Cristene.
'Inparfit is that Pope, that al peple sholde helpe,
And s[ou]deth hem that sleeth swiche as he sholde save.
A[c] wel worthe Piers the Plowman, that pursueth God in doynge,
Qui pluit super iustos et iniustos at ones,
And sent the sonne to save a cursed mannes tilthe
As brighte as to the beste man or to the beste womman.
Right so Piers the Plowrnan peyneth hym to tilye
As wel for a wastour and wenches of the stewes
As for hymself and hise servaunts, save he is first yserved.
[So blessed be Piers Plowman, that peyneth hym to tilye],
And travailleth and tilieth for a tretour also soore
As for a trewe tidy man, alle tymes ylike.
And worshiped be He that wroghte al, bothe good and wikke,
And suffreth that synfulle be til som tyme that thei repente.
And God [the Pope amende], that pileth Holy Kirke,
And cleymeth bifore the kyng to be kepere over Cristene,
And counteth noght though Cristene ben killed and robbed,
And fynt folk to fighte and Cristen blood to spille
Ayein the Olde Lawe and Newe Lawe, as Luc bereth witnesse
Non occides mihi vindictam .
It semeth, bi so hymself hadde his wille,
That he ne reccheth right noght of al the remenaunt.
'And Crist of his curtesie the cardinals save,

And torne hir wit to wisdom and to welthe of soule!
For the comune,' quod this curatour, 'counten ful litel
The counseil of Conscience or Cardinale Vertues
But if thei sowne, as by sighte, somwhat to wynnyng.
Of gile ne of gabbyng gyve thei nevere tale,
For Spiritus Prudencie among the peple is gyle,
And alle tho faire vertues, as vices thei semeth.
Ech man subtileth a sleighte synne to hide,
And coloureth it for a konnynge and a clene lyvynge.'
Thanne lough ther a lord, and 'By this light! seide,
I holde it right and reson of my reve to take
Al that myn auditour or ellis my styward
Counseilleth me bi hir acounte and my clerkes writynge.
With Spiritus Intellectus thei toke the reves rolles,
And with Spiritus Fortitudinis fecche it - wole [he, nel he].'
And thanne cam ther a kyng and by his croune seide,
'I am kyng with croune the comune to rule,
And Holy Kirke and clergie fro cursed men to defende.
And if me lakketh to lyve by, the lawe wole I take it
Ther I may hastilokest it have - for I am heed of lawe
For ye ben but membres and I above alle.
And sith I am youre aller heed, I am youre aller heele,
And Holy Chirches chief help and chieftayn of the comune.
And what I take of yow two, I take it at the techynge
Of Spiritus Iusticie - for I jugge yow alle.
So I may boldely be housled, for I borwe nevere,
Ne crave of my comune but as my kynde asketh.'
'In condicion,' quod Conscience, 'that thow [the comune] defende,
And rule thi reaume in reson, right wol and truthe

That thow [have thyn askyng], as the lawe asketh
Omnia sunt tua ad defendendum set non ad deprehendendum.'
The viker hadde fer hoom, and faire took his leeve -
And I awakned therwith, and wroot as me mette.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 13

And I awaked therwith, witlees nerhande,
And as a freke that fey were, forth gan I walke
In manere of a mendynaunt many yer after,
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 [peple] that was povere at litel pris thei sette,
And no corps in hir kirkyerd ne in hir kirk was buryed
But quik he biquethe hem aught or sholde helpe quyte hir dettes;
And how this coveitise overcom clerkes and preestes;
And how that lewed men ben lad, but Oure Lord hem helpe,
Thorugh unkonnynge curatours to incurable peynes;
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 bestes on londe and on watre
Leneth he no lif lasse ne moore;
The creatures that crepen of Kynde ben engendred;
And sithen how Ymaginatif seide, ' Vix iustus salvabitur,'
And whan he hadde seid so, how sodeynliche he passed.
I lay down 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.
And for Conscience of Clergie spak, I com wel the rather;
And there I [merkede] 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.
Ac Pacience in the paleis stood in pilgrymes clothes,
And preyde mete par charite for a povere heremyte.
Conscience called hym in, and curteisliche seide,
' Welcome, wye, go and wassh; thow shalt sitte soone.'
This maister was maad sitte as for the mooste worthi,
And thanne Clergie and Conscience and Pacience cam after.
Pacience and I were put to be mettes,
And seten bi oureselve at a side borde.
Conscience called after mete, and thanne cam Scripture
And served hem thus soone of sondry metes manye -
Of Austyn, of Ambrose, of alle the foure Evaungelistes
Edentes et bibentes que apud eos sunt.
Ac this maister ne his man no maner flessh eten,
Ac thei eten mete of moore cost - mortrews and potages
Of that men myswonne thei made hem wel at ese.
Ac hir sauce was over sour and unsavourly grounde
In a morter, Post mortem, of many bitter peyne -
But if thei synge for tho soules and wepe salte teris
Vos qui peccata hominum comeditis, nisi pro eis lacrimas et
oraciones effuderitis, ea que in deliciis comeditis, in tormentis evometis.
Conscience ful curteisly tho commaunded Scripture
Bifore Pacience breed to brynge and me that was his mette.
He sette a sour loof toforn us and seide, 'Agite penitenciam,'
And siththe he drough us drynke'Dia perseverans -

As longe,' quod he,-'as lif and lycame may dure.'
' Here is propre service,' quod Pacience, 'ther fareth no prince bettre!'
And he broughte us of Beati quorum of Beatus virres makyng,
And thanne he broughte us forth a mees of oother mete, of Miserere mei, Deus
Et quorum tecta sunt peccata
In a dissh of derne shrifte, Dixi et confitebor tibi.
'Bryng Pacience som pitaunce,' pryveliche quod Conseience;
And thanne hadde Pacience a pitaunce, Pro hac orabit ad te
omnis sanctus in tempore oportuno.
And Conseience conforted us, and carped us murye tales
Cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non despicies.
Pacience was proude of that propre service,
And made hym murthe with his mete; ac I mornede evere,
For this doctour on the heighe dees drank wyn so faste
Ve vobis qui potentes estis ad bibendum vinum !
He eet manye sondry metes, mortrews and puddynges,
Wombe cloutes and wilde brawen and egges yfryed with grece.
Thanne seide I to myself so Pacience it herde,
' It is noght foure dayes that this freke, bifore the deen of Poules,
Preched of penaunces that Paul the Apostle suffrede -
In fame et frigore and flappes of scourges
Ter cesus sum et a Iudeis quinquies quadragenas &c;
Ac o word thei overhuppen at ech a tyme that thei preche
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 Englissh, on aventure it sholde be reherced to ofte
And greve therwith that goode men ben - ac gramariens shul rede
Unusquisque a fratre se custodiat, quia, ut dicitur,
periculum est in falsis fratribus.
Ac I wiste nevere freke that as a frere yede bifore men on Englissh
Taken it for his teme, and telle it withouten glosyng!
They prechen that penaunce is profitable to the soule,
And what meschief and maleese Crist for man tholede).
'Ac this Goddes gloton,' quod I, 'with hise grete chekes,
Hath no pite on us povere; he parfourneth yvele.
That he precheth, he preveth noght,' to Pacience I tolde,
And wisshed witterly, with wille ful egre,
That disshes and doublers bifore this doctour
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 parceyved what I thoughte, and [preynte] on me to be stille,
And seide, 'Thow shalt see thus soone, whan he may na moore,
He shal have a penaunce in his paunche 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 ne blancmanger ne mortrews
Is neither fissh ne flessh but fode for a penaunt.
And thanne shal he testifie of a trinite, and take his felawe to witnesse
What he fond in a f[or]el after a freres lyvyng;

And but the first leef be lesyng, leve me nevere after!
And thanne is tyme to take and to appose this doctour
Of Dowel and Dobet and if Dobest be any penaunce.'
And I sat stille as Pacience seide, and thus soone this doctour,
As rody as a rose ruddede hise chekes,
Coughed and carped; and Conscience hym herde,
And tolde hym of a trinite, and toward us he loked.
'What is Dowel, sire doctour?' quod I; 'is Dobest any penaunce?'
' Dowel?' quod this doctour - and drank after -
' Do noon yvel to thyn evencristen - nought by thi power.'
'By this day, sire doctour,' quod I, 'thanne [in Dowel be ye noght]!
For ye han harmed us two in that ye eten the puddyng,
Mortrews and oother mete - and we no morsel hadde.
And if ye fare so in youre fermerye, ferly me thynketh
But cheeste be ther charite sholde be, and yonge children dorste pleyne!
I wolde permute my penaunce with youre - for I am in point to dowel.'
Thanne Conscience ful curteisly a contenaunce he made,
And preynte upon Pacience to preie me to be stille,
And seide hymself, 'Sire doctour, and it be youre wille,
What is Dowel and Dobet? Ye dyvynours knoweth.'
'Dowel?' quod this doctour; 'do as clerkes techeth;
And Dobet is he that techeth and travailleth to teche othere;
And Dobest doth hymself so as he seith and precheth
Qui facit et docuerit magnus vocabitur in regno celorum.'
'Now thow, Clergie,' quod Conscience. 'carpe us what is Dowel.'
' I have sevene sones,' he seide, 'serven in a castel
Ther the lord of lif wonyeth, to leren hem what is Dowel.
Til I se tho sevene and myself acorde
I am unhardy,' quod he, 'to any wight to preven it.
For oon Piers the Plowman hath impugned us alle,
And set alle sciences at a sop save love one;
And no text ne taketh to mayntene his cause

But Dilige Deum and Domine quis habitabit;
And seith that Dowel and Dobet arn two infinites,
Whiche infinites with a feith fynden out Dobest,
Which shal save mannes soule - thus seith Piers the Plowman.'
' I kan noght heron,' quod Conscience, 'ac I knowe wel Piers.
He wol noght ayein Holy Writ speken, I dar x el undertake.
Thanne passe we over til Piers come and preve this in dede.
Pacience hath be in many place, and paraunter knoweth
That no clerk ne kan, as Crist bereth witnesse
Pacientes vincunt &c.'
'At youre preiere,' quod Pacience tho, 'so no man displese hym
Disce,' quod he, ' doce; dilige inimicos.
Disce, and Dowel; doce, and Dobet;
Dilige, and Dobest - [do] thus taughte me ones
A lemman that I lovede - Love was hir name.
''With wordes and with werkes,'' quod she, 'and wil of thyn herte
Thow love leelly thi soule al thi lif tyme.
And so thow lere the to lovye, for the Lordes love of hevene,
Thyn enemy in alle wise eveneforth with thiselve.
Cast coles on his heed of alle kynde speche;
Bothe with werkes and with wordes 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 no catel but speche.
With half a laumpe lyne in Latyn, Ex vi transicionis,
I bere ther, in a bou[s]te, faste ybounde Dowel,
In a signe of the Saterday that sette first the kalender,
And al the wit of the Wodnesday of the nexte wike after;
The myddel of the rnoone is the myght of bothe.
And herwith am I welceme ther I have it with me.
' Undo it - lat this doctour deme if Dowel be therinne;

For, by hym that me made, myghte nevere poverte,
Misese ne mischief ne man with his tonge,
Coold, ne care, ne compaignye of theves.
Ne neither hete, ne hayl, ne noon helle pouke,
Ne neither fuyr, ne flood, ne feere of thyn enemy.
Tene thee any tyme, and thow take it with the
Caritas nichil timet.
'And ek, have God my soule! and thow wilt it crave,
Ther nys neither emperour ne emperesse, erl ne baroun,
Pope ne patriark, that pure reson ne shal make thee
Maister of alle tho men thorugh myght of this redels -
Nought thorugh wicchecraft but thorugh wit; and thow wilt thiselve
Do kyng and quene and alle the comune after
Yyve thee al that thei may yyve, as thee for best yemere,
And as thow demest wil thei do alle hir dayes after
Pacientes vincunt.'
' It is but a dido,' quod this doctour, 'a disours tale!
Al the wit of this world and wight mennes strengthe
Kan noght [par]formen a pees bitwene the Pope 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,
That Pacience tho 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 nilgrym with Pacience til I have preved moore.'
'What! ' quod Clergie to Conscience, 'are ye coveitous nouthe
After yeresyeves or yiftes. 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.'
' Nay, by Crist!' quod Conscience to Clergie, ' God thee foryelde.

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
For ther nys no tresour therto to a trewe wille.
'Hadde noght Marie Maudeleyne moore for a box of salve
Than Zacheus for he seide, ' Dimiaium bonorum meorum do pauperibus,'
And the poore widewe for a peire of mytes
Than alle tho that offrede 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 parfitliche than half thi pak of bokes! '
Clergie of Conscience no congie wolde take,
But seide ful sobreliche, 'Thow shalt se the tyme
Whan thow art wery forwalked, wilne me to counseille.'
'That is sooth,' seide Conscience, 'so me God helpe!
If Pacience be oure partyng felawe and pryve with us bothe,
Ther nys wo in this world that we ne sholde amende,
And conformen kynges to pees, and alle kynnes londes -
Sarsens and Surre, and so forth alle the Jewes -
Turne into the trewe feith and intil oon bileve.'
'That is sooth,' quod Clergie, 'I se what thow menest.
I shall dwelle as I do, my devoir to shewe,
And confermen fauntekyns oother folk ylered
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 and soothfast bileve,
To conforte hym and Conscience if thei come in place
There unkyndenesse and coveitise is, hungry contrees bothe.
And as thei wente by the weye, of Dowel thei carped;
Thei mette with a mynstral, as me tho thoughte.

Pacience apposed hym first and preyde he sholde telle
fo Conscience what craft he kouthe, and to what contree he wolde.
'I am a mynstral,' quod that man, 'my name is Activa Vita.
Al ydel ich hatie, for of Actif is my name,
A wafrer, wol ye wite, and serve manye lordes -
And fewe robes I fonge or furrede gownes.
Couthe I lye and do men laughe, thanne lacchen I sholde
Outher mantel or moneie amonges lordes mynstrals.
Ac for I kan neither taboure ne trompe ne telle no gestes,
Farten ne fithelen at festes, ne harpen,
Jape ne jogele ne gentilliche pipe,
Ne neither saille ne sautrie 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 Paternoster to bidde
For Piers the Plowman 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 wafres.
'Beggeris and bidderis of my breed craven,
Faitours and freres 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 yet of the Popes yifte,
Save a pardon with a peis of leed and two polles amyddes!
Hadde ich a clerc that couthe write 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 demonia eicient et super egros manus imponent et bene habebunt.
And thanne wolde I be prest to the peple, paast for to make,
And buxom and busy aboute breed and drynke
For hyrn and for alle hise, founde I that his pardoun

Mighte lechen a man - as I bileve it sholde.
For sith he hath the power that Peter hadde, he hath the pot with the salve
Argentum et aurum non est michiquod autem habeo,
tibi doIn 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 the Pope.
For may no blessynge doon us boote but if we wile amende,
Ne mannes masse make pees among Cristene peple,
Til pride be pureliche fordo, and that thorugh payn defaute.
For er I have breed of mele, ofte moot I swete,
And er the commune have corn ynough many a cold morwenyng;
So, er my wafres be ywroght, muche wo I tholye.
'Al Londoun, I leve, liketh wel my wafres,
And louren whan thei lakken hem; it is noght longe ypassed
There was a careful commune whan no cart com to towne
With bake breed fro Stratford; tho gonnen beggeris wepe,
And werkmen were agast a lite - this wole be thought longe;
In the date of Oure Drighte, in a drye Aprill,
A thousand and thre hundred, twies thritty and ten,
My wafres there were gesene, whan Chichestre was maire.'
I took greet kepe, by Crist, and Conscience bothe,
Of Haukyn the Actif Man, and how he was yclothed.
He hadde a cote of Cristendom as Holy Kirke bileveth;
Ac it was moled in many places with manye sondry plottes -
Of pride here a plot, and there a plot of unbuxom speche,
Of scornyng and of seoffyng and of unskilful berynge;
As in apparaill andin porte proud amonges the peple;
Ootherwise than he hath with herte or sighte shewynge;
Hym wilnyng that alle men wende he were that he is noght,

Forwhy he bosteth and braggeth with manye bolde othes;
And inobedient to ben undernome of any lif lyvynge;
And so singuler by hymself as to sighte of the peple
Was noon swich as hymself, ne noon so pope holy;
Yhabited as an heremyte, an ordre by hymselve -
Religion saunz rule and 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
As best for his body be to have a bold name;
And entremetten hym over al ther he hath noght to doone;
Wilnyge that men wende his wit were the beste,
Or for his crafty konnynge or of clerkes the wisest,
Or strengest on stede, or styvest under girdel,
And lovelokest to loken on and lelest of werkes,
And noon so holy as he ne of lif clennere,
Or feirest of feitures, of forme and of shafte,
And most sotil of song other sleyest of hondes,
And large to lene lo[o]s therby to cacche;
And if he gyveth ought to povere gomes, [go] telle what he deleth;
Povere of possession in purs and in cofre,'
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,
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 somtymes hadde,
And what I kouthe and knew, and what kyn I com of.'
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 Conseience tho, 'thi beste cote, Haukyn,
Hath manye moles and spottes - it moste ben ywasshe!'
'Ye, whoso toke hede,' quod Haukyn, 'bihynde and bifore,
What on bak and what on body half and by the two sides -
Men sholde fynde manye frounces and manye foule plottes.'
And he torned hym as tyd, and thanne took I hede;
It was fouler bi fele fold than it first semed.
It was bidropped with wrathe and wikkede wille,
With envye and yvel speche entisynge to fighte,
Lying and lakkynge and leve tonge to chide;
Al that he wiste wikked by any wight, tellen it,
And blame men bihynde hir bak and bidden hem meschaunce;
And that he wiste by Wille, [to Watte tellen it],
And that Watte wiste, Wille wiste it after,
And made of frendes foes thorugh a fals tonge
'Or with myght of mouth or thorugh mannes strengthe
Avenged me fele tymes, other frete myselve withinne
As a shepsteres shere, ysherewed men and cursed hem.'
Cuius malediccione os plenum est et amaritudine; sub lingua
eius labor et dolor. Et alibiFilii hominum dentes eorum
arma et sagitte et lingua eorum gladius acutus.

'Ther is no lif that I lovye 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, the cardiacle som tyme,
Or an ague in swich an angre, and som tyme a fevere
That taketh me al a twelvemonthe, 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 Shordych Dame Emme,
And seye that [God ne] Goddes word gaf me nevere boute,
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 synneward, and somtyme he gan taste
Aboute the mouth or bynethe bigynneth to grope,
Til eitheres wille wexeth kene, and to the werke yeden,
As wel fastyng dayes as Fridaies and forboden nyghtes,
And as lef in Lente as out of Lente, alle tymes yliche
Swiche werkes with hem were nevere out of seson,
Til thei myghte na moore - and thanne hadde murye tales,
And how that lecchours lovye laughen and japen,
And of hir harlotrye and horedom in hir elde tellen.
Thanne Pacience parceyved, of pointes his cote
Was colomy thorugh coveitise and unkynde desiryng.
Moore to good than to God the gome his love caste,
And ymagynede how he it myghte have
With false mesures and met, and [mid] fals witnesse
Lened for love of the wed and looth to do truthe,
And awaited thorugh w[itte]s wyes to bigile,

And menged his marchaundise and made a good moustre
'The worst withinne was - a greet wit I let it!
And if my neghebore hadde an hyne, or any beest ellis,
Moore profitable than myn, manye sleightes I made
How I myghte have it - al my wit I caste;
And but I it hadde by oother wey, at the laste I stale it,
Or pryveliche his purs shook, 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
That a foot lond or a forow fecchen I wolde
Of my nexte neghebore, nymen of his erthe;
And if I rope, overreche, or yaf hem reed that ropen
To seise to me with hir sikel that I ne sew nevere.
'And whoso borwed of me aboughte the tyme
With presentes pryvely, or paide som certeyn -
So wolde he or noght wolde he, wynnen I wolde;
And bothe to kith and to kyn unkynde of that ich hadde.
'And whoso cheped my chaffare, chiden I wolde
But he profrede to paie a peny or tweyne
Moore than it was worth, and yet wolde I swere
That it coste me muche moore - swoor manye othes.
'In haly 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
For losse of good, leve me, than for likames giltes;
As, if I hadde dedly synne doon, I dredde noght that so soore
As whan I lened and leved it lost or longe er it were paied.
So if I kidde any kyndenesse myn evencristen to helpe,
Upon a cruwel coveitise my conscience gan hange.
'And if I sente over see my servaunts to Brugges,
Or into Prucelond my Prentis my profit to waiten,

To marchaunden with moneie and maken here esehaunges,
Mighte nevere me conforte in the mene tyme
Neither masse ne matynes, ne none maner sightes;
Ne nevere penaunce parfournede ne Paternoster seide
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.
Yet that glotoun with grete othes his garnement hadde soiled
And foule beflobered it, as with fals speche,
As, there no nede ne was, Goddes name an idel -
Swoor therby swithe ofte and al biswatte his cote;
And moore mete eet and dronk than kynde myghte defie -
'And kaughte siknesse somtyme for my surfetes ofte;
And thanne I dradde to deye in dedlich synne' -
That into wanhope he w[orth] and wende nought to be saved,
The whiche is sleuthe, so slow that may no sleightes helpe it,
Ne no mercy amenden the man that so deieth.
Ac whiche ben the braunches that bryngen a man to sleuthe?
Is whan a man moorneth noght for hise mysdedes, ne maketh no sorwe,
Ac penaunce that the preest enjoyneth parfourneth yvele,
Dooth non almesdede, dred hym of no synne,
Lyveth ayein the bileve and no lawe holdeth.
Ech day is halyday with hym or an heigh ferye, '
And if he aught wol here, it is an harlotes tonge.
Whan men carpen of Crist, or of clennesse of soule,
He wexeth wroth and wol noght here but wordes of murthe.
Penaunce and povere men and the passion of seintes -
He hateth to here therof and alle that it telleth.

Thise been the braunches, beth war! 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 [in hope] to do yow laughe -
Ve vobis qui ridetis &c -
And yyveth hem mete and mede, and povere men refuse,
In youre deeth deyinge, I drede me soore
Lest tho thre maner men to muche sorwe yow brynge
Consencientes et agentes pari pena punientur.
Patriarkes and prophetes, prechours of Goddes wordes,
Saven thorugh hir sermon mannes soule fro helle;
Right so flatereris and fooles arn the fendes disciples
To entice men thorugh hir tales to synne and 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 mee qui facit superbiam; qui loquitur iniqua . . .
Sholde noon harlot have audience in halle ne in chambre
Ther wise men were - witnesseth Goddes wordes -
Ne no mysproud min amonges lordes ben allowed.
Clerkes and knyghtes welcometh kynges minstrales,
And for love of hir lord litheth hem at festes;
Muche moore, me thynketh, riche men sholde
Have beggeres bifore hem, the whiche ben Goddes minstrales,
As he seith hymself - Seynt Johan bereth witnesse
Qui vos spernit me spernit.
Forthi I rede yow riche, reveles whan ye maketh,
For to solace youre soules, swiche minstrales to have -
The povere for a fool sage sittynge at th[i] table,
And a lered man to lere thee what Oure Lord suffred
For to save thi soule fram Sathan thyn enemy,
And fithele thee, withoute flaterynge, of Good Friday the storye,

And a blynd man for a bourdeour, or a bedrede womman
To crie a largesse bifore Oure Lord, your good loos to shewe.
Thise thre maner minstrales maketh a man to laughe,
And in his deeth deyinge thei don hym gret confort
That bi his lyve lithed hem and loved hem to here.
Thise solaceth the soule til hymself be falle
In a welhope, [for he wroghte so], amonges worthi seyntes,
There flatereres and fooles thorugh hir foule wordes
Leden tho that loved hem to Luciferis feste
With turpiloquio, a lay of sorwe, and Luciferis fithele.
Thus Haukyn the actif man hadde ysoiled his cote,
Til Conscience acouped hym therof in a curteis manere,
Why he ne hadde wasshen it or wiped it with a brusshe.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 10

Thanne hadde Wit a wif, was hote Dame Studie,
That lene was of lere and of liche bothe.
She was wonderly wroth that Wit me thus taughte,
And al staiynge Dame Studie sterneliche seide.
'Wel artow wis,' quod she to Wit, 'any wisdomes to telle
To flatereres or to fooles that frenetike ben of wittes!' -
And blamed hym and banned hym and bad hym be stille -
'With swiche wise wordes to wissen any sottes!'
And seide, ' Nolite mittere, man, margery perles
Among hogges that han hawes at wille.
Thei doon but dryvele theron - draf were hem levere
Than al the precious perree that in paradis wexeth.
I seye it by swiche,' quod she, 'that sheweth by hir werkes
That hem were levere lond and lordshipe on erthe,
Or richesse or rentes and reste at hir wille
Than alle the sooth sawes that Salamon seide evere.

'Wisdom and wit now is noght worth a kerse
But if it be carded with coveitise as clotheres kemben hir wolle.
Whoso can contreve deceites and conspire wronges
And lede forth a loveday to lette with truthe - .
That swiche craftes kan to counseil [are] cleped ;
Thei lede lordes with lesynges and bilieth truthe.
' Job the gentile in hise gestes witnesseth
That wikked men, thei welden the welthe of this worlde,
And that thei ben lordes of ech a lond, that out of lawe libbeth
Quare impii vivunt ? bene est omnibus qui prevaricantur et inique agunt ?
'The Sauter seith the same by swiche that doon ille
Ecce ipsi peccatores habundantes in seculo obtinuerunt divicias.
' Lo!' seith holy lettrure, ' whiche lordes beth thise sherewes!'
Thilke that God moost gyveth, leest good thei deleth,
And moost unkynde to the commune, that moost catel weldeth
Que perfecisti destruxerunt, iustus autem &c.
'Harlotes for hir harlotrie may have of hir goodes,
And japeris and jogelours and jangleris of gestes;
Ac he that hath Holy Writ ay in his mouthe
And kan telle of Tobye and of the twelve Apostles
Or prechen of the penaunce that Pilat wroghte
To Jesu the gentile, that Jewes todrowe -
Litel is he loved that swich a lesson sheweth,
Or daunted or drawe forth - I do it on God hymselve!
'But thoo that feynen hem foolis and with faityng libbeth
Ayein the lawe of Oure Lord, and lyen on hemselve,
Spitten and spuen and speke foule wordes,
Drynken and drevelen and do men for to gape,
Likne men and lye on hem that leneth hem no yiftes -
Thei konne na moore mynstralcie ne musik men to glade

Than Munde the Millere of Multa fecit Deus.
Ne were hir vile harlotrye, have God my trouthe,
Sholde nevere kyng ne knyght ne canon of Seint Poules
Yyve hem to hir yeresyyve the value of a grote!
'Ac murthe and mynstralcie amonges men is nouthe
Lecherie, losengerye and losels tales -
Glotonye and grete othes, this [game] they lovyeth.
'Ac if thei carpen of Crist, thise clerkes and thise lewed,
At mete in hir murthe whan mynstrals beth stille,
Thanne telleth thei of the Trinite [how two slowe the thridde],
And bryngen forth a balled reson, and taken Bernard to witnesse,
And puten forth a presumpcion to preve the sothe.
Thus thei dryvele at hir deys the deitee to knowe,
And gnawen God with the gorge whanne hir guttes fullen.
'Ac the carefulle may crie and carpen at the yate,
Bothe afyngred and afurst, and for chele quake;
Is non to nyme hym neer his noy to amende,
But hun[s]en hym as an hound and hoten hym go thennes.
Litel loveth he that Lord that lent hym al that blisse,
That thus parteth with the povere a parcell whan hym nedeth !
Ne were mercy in meene men moore than in riche,
Mendinaunts metelees myghte go to bedde.
God is muche in the gorge of thise grete maistres,
Ac amonges meene men his mercy and hise werkes.
And so seith the Sauter - I have seighen it [in Memento]
* Ecce audivimus eam in Effrata; invenimus eam in campis silve.
Clerkes and othere kynnes men carpen of zgod faste,
And have hym muche in hire mouth, ac meene men in herte.

' Freres and faitours han founde [up] swiche questions
To plese with proude men syn the pestilence tyme,
And prechen at Seint Poules, for pure envye of clerkes,
That folk is noght fermed in the feith, ne free of hire goodes,
Ne sory for hire synnes; so is pride woxen
In religion and in al the reme amonges riche and povere
That preieres have no power thise pestilences to lette.
For God is deef nowadayes and deyneth noght his eres to opene,
That girles for hire giltes he forgrynt hem alle.
And yet the wrecches of this world is noon ywar by oother,
Ne for drede of the deeth withdrawe noght hir pride,
Ne beth plentevouse to the povere as pure charite wolde,
But in gaynesse and glotonye forglutten hir good hemselve,
And breketh noght to the beggere as the Book techeth
Frange esurienti panem tuum &c.
And the moore he wynneth and welt welthes and richesse
And lordeth in ledes and londes, the lasse good he deleth.
' Tobye techeth yow noght so! Taketh hede, ye riche,
How the book Bible of hym bereth witnesse
Si tibi sit copia, habundantur tribue; si autem exiguum,illud impertiri libenter
Whoso hath muche, spende manliche - so meneth Tobye -
And whoso litel weldeth, [loke] hym therafter,
For we have no lettre of oure lif, how longe it shal dure.

Swiche lessons lordes sholde lovye to here,
And how he myghte moost meynee manliche fynde - -
Noght to fare as a fithelere or a frere for to seke festes,
Homliche at othere mennes houses, and hatien hir owene.
'Elenge is the halle, ech day in the wike,
Ther the lord ne the lady liketh noght to sitte.
Now hath ech riche a rule - to eten by hymselve
In a pryvee parlour for povere mennes sake,
Or in a chambre with a chymenee, and leve the chief halle
That was maad for meles, men to eten inne,
And al to spare to spille that spende shal another.
'I have yherd heighe men etyng at the table
Carpen as thei clerkes were of Crist and of hise myghtes,
And leyden fautes upon the fader that formede us alle,
And carpen ayein clerkes crabbede wordes
' Why wolde Oure Saveour suffre swich a worm in his blisse,
That bi[w]iled the womman and the [wye] after,
Thorugh whiche wiles and wordes thei wente to helle,
And al hir seed for hir synne the same deeth suffrede?
' Here lyeth youre lore,' thise lordes gynneth dispute,
' Of that ye clerkes us kenneth of Crist by the Gospel
Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris &c.
Why sholde we that now ben, for the werkes of Adam
Roten and torende? Reson wolde it nevere!
Unusquisque portabit onus suum &c.'
'Swiche motyves they meve, thise maistres in hir glorie,
And maken men in mysbileve that muse muche on hire wordes.
Ymaginatif herafterward shal answere to youre purpos.
'Austyn to swiche argueres, he telleth hem this teme
Non plus sapere quam oport.
Wilneth nevere to wite why that God wolde

Suffre Sathan his seed to bigile;
Ac bileveth lelly in the loore of Holy Chirche,
And preie hym of pardon and penaunce in thi lyve,
And for his muche mercy to amende yow here.
For alle that wilneth to wite the whyes of God almyghty,
I wolde his eighe were in his ers and his fynger after
That evere wilneth to wite why that God wolde
Suffre Sathan his seed to bigile,
Or Judas the Jew Jesu bitraye.
Al was as he wolde - Lord, yworshiped be thow -
And al worth as thow wolt whatso we dispute.
'And tho that useth thise havylons to [a]blende mennes wittes
What is Dowel fro Dobet, now deef mote he worthe,
Siththe he wilneth to wite whiche thei ben alle.
But if he lyve in the lif that longeth to Dowel,
I dar ben his bolde borgh that Dobet wole he nevere,
Theigh Dobest drawe on hym day after oother.'
And whan that Wit was ywar what Dame Studie tolde,
He bicom so confus he kouthe noght loke,
And as doumb as a dore nail drough hym aside.
And for no carpyng I kouthe after, ne knelyng to the grounde,
I myghte gete no greyn of his grete wittes,
But al laughynge he louted and loked upon Studie
In signe that I sholde bisechen hire of grace.
And whan I was war of his wille, to his wif gan I loute,
And seide, ' Mercy, madame; youre man shal I worthe
As longe as I lyve, bothe late and rathe,
For to werche youre wille the while my lif dureth,
With that ye kenne me kyndely to knowe what is Dowel.'
' For thi mekenesse, man,' quod she, 'and for thi mylde speche,
I shal kenne thee to my cosyn that Clergie is hoten.
He hath wedded a wif withinne thise sixe monthes,
Is sib to the sevene arts - Scripture is hir name.
They two, as I hope, after my techyng,

Shullen wissen thee to Dowel, I dar wel undertake.'
Thanne was I as fayn as fowel of fair morwe,
Gladder than the gleman that gold hath to yifte,
And asked hire the heighe wey where that Clergie dwelte,
'And tel me som tokene,' quod I, 'for tyme is that I wende.'
'Aske the heighe wey,' quod she,-hennes to Suffre-
Bothe-wele-and-wo, if that thow wolt lerne;
And ryd forth by richesse, ac rest thow noght therinne,
For if thow couplest thee therwith to Clergie comestow nevere.
'And also the likerouse launde that Lecherie hatte -
Leve hym on thi left half a large myle or moore,
Til thow come to a court, Kepe-wel-thi-tunge-
Fro-lesynges-and-lither-sp eche-and-likerouse-drynkes.
Thanne shaltow se Sobretee and Sympletee-of-speche,
That ech wight be in wille his wit thee to shewe;
And thus shaltow come to Clergie, that kan manye thynges.
'Seye hym this signeI sette hym to scole,
And that I grete wel his wif, for I wroot hire [the bible],
And sette hire to Sapience and to the Sauter glosed.
Logyk I lerned hire, and [al the Lawe after],
And alle the musons in Musik I made hire to knowe.
'Plato the poete, I putte hym first to boke;
Aristotle and othere mo to argue I taughte.
Grammer for girles I garte first write,
And bette hem with a baleys but if thei wolde lerne.
Of alle kynne craftes I contreved tooles -
Of carpentrie, of kerveres, and compased masons,
And lerned hem level and lyne, though I loke dymme.

'Ac Theologie hath tened me ten score tymes
The moore I muse therinne, the myst[lok]er it semeth,
And the depper I devyne, the derker me it thynketh.
It is no science, forsothe, for to sotile inne.
[If that love nere, that lith therinne, a ful lethi thyng it were];
Ac for it let best by love, I love it the bettre,
For there that love is ledere, ne lakked nevere grace.
Loke thow love lelly, if thee liketh Dowel,
For Dobet and Dobest ben of loves k[e]nn[yng].
'In oother seience it seith - I seigh it in Catoun -
Qui simulat verbis, nec corde est fidus amicus,
Tu quoque fac simile; sic ars deluditur arte
Whoso gloseth as gylours doon, go me to the same,
And so shaltow fals folk and feithlees bigile -
This is Catons kennyng to clerkes that he lereth.
Ac Theologie techeth noght so, whoso taketh yeme;
He kenneth us the contrarie ayein Catons wordes,
For he biddeth us be as bretheren, and bidde for oure enemys,
And loven hem that lyen on us, and lene hem whan hem nedeth,
And to do good agein yvel - God hymself hoteth
Dum tempus habemus, operemur bonum ad omnes,
maxime autem ad domesticos fidei.
'Poul preched the peple, that parfitnesse lovede,
To do good for Goddes love and gywen den that asked,
And [sovereyn]ly to swiche that suwen oure bileve,
And alle that lakketh us or lyeth us, Oure Lord techeth us to lovye,

And noght to greven hem that greveth us - God hymself forbad it
Michi vindictam et ego retribuam.
Forthi loke thow lovye as longe as thow durest,
For is no science under sonne so sovereyn for the soule.
'Ac Astronomye is hard thyng, and yvel for to knowe
Geometry and Geomesie is gynful of speche;
Whoso thynketh werche with tho t[hre] thryveth ful late -
For sorcerie is the sovereyn book that to the science bilongeth.
' Yet ar ther fibicches in forceres of fele mennes makynge,
Experiments of Alkenamye the peple to deceyve;
If thow thynke to dowel, deel therwith nevere!
Alle thise sciences I myself sotilede and ordeynede,
And founded hem formest folk to deceyve.
'Tel Clergie thise tokenes, and to Scripture after,
To counseille thee kyndely to knowe what is Dowel.'
I seide, ' Graunt mercy, madame,' and mekely hir grette,
And wente wightly my wey withoute moore lettyng -
And til I com to Clergie I koude nevere stynte.
I grette the goode man as the goode wif me taughte,
And afterwardes the wif, and worshiped hem bothe,
And tolde hem the tokenes that me taught were.
Was nevere gome upon this ground, sith God made the worlde,
Fairer underfongen ne frendloker at ese
Than myself, soothly, soone so he wiste
That I was of Wittes hous and with his wif Dame Studie.
I seide to hem soothly that sent was I thider
Dowel and I and Dobt to leme.
'It is a commune lyf,' quod Mergie, 'on Holy Chirche to bileve,

With alle the articles of the feith that falleth to be knowe
And that is to bileve lelly, bothe lered and lewed,
On the grete God that gynnyng hadde nevere,
And on the soothfast Sone that saved mankynde
Fro the dedly deeth and the develes power
Thorugh the help of the Holy Goost, the which goost is of bothe -
Thre propre persones, ac noght in plurel nombre,
For al is but oon God and ech is God hymselve
Deus Pater, Deus Filius, Deus Spiritus Sanctus -
God the Fader, God the Sone, God Holy Goost of bothe,
Maker of mankynde and of [animal]es bothe.
'Austyn the olde herof made bokes,
And hymself ordeyned to sadde us in bileve.
Who was his auctour? Alle the foure Evaungelistes;
And Crist cleped hymself so, the [same] bereth witnesse
Ego in patre et pater in me est, et qui videt me
videt et patrem meum.
'Alle the clerkes under Crist ne koude this assoille,
But thus it bilongeth to bileve to lewed that willen dowel.
For hadde nevere freke fyn wit the feith to dispute,
Ne man hadde no merite, myghte it ben ypreved
fides non habet meritum ubi humana racio prebet experimentum.
'[Siththen] is Dobet to suffre for thi soules helthe
Al that the Book bit bi Holi Cherches techyng -
And that is, man, bi thy myght, for mercies sake,
Loke thow werche it in werk that thi word sheweth;
Swich as thow semest in sighte be in assay yfounde
Appare quod es vel esto quod appares.

And lat no body be by thi beryng bigiled,
But be swich in thi soule as thow semest withoute.
'Thanne is Dobest to be boold to blame the gilty,
Sythenes thow seest thiself as in soule clene;
Ac blame thow nevere body and thow be blameworthy
Si culpare velis culpabilis esse cavebis,
Dogma tuum sordet cum te tua culpa remordet.
God in the Gospel grymly repreveth
Alle that lakketh any lif and lakkes han hemselve
Quid consideras festucam in oculo fratris tui, trabem in
oculo tuo, &c.
Why mevestow thi mood for a mote in thi brotheres eighe,
Sithen a beem in thyn owene ablyndeth thiselve?
Eice primo trabem de oculo tuo, &c.
Which letteth thee to loke, lasse outher moore?
' I rede ech a blynd bosard do boote to hymselve -
As persons and parissh preestes, that preche sholde and teche
Alle maner men to amenden, bi hire myghte.
This text was told yow to ben war, er ye taughte,
That ye were swiche as ye seyde to salve with othere.
For Goddes word wolde noght be lost - for that wercheth evere;
If it availled noght the commune, it myghte availle yowselve.
'Ac it semeth now soothly, to [sighte of the worlde],
That Goddes word wercheth no [wi]ght on lered ne on lewed
But in swich a manere as Marc meneth in the Gospel
Dum cecus ducit cecum, ambo in foveam cadunt.
'Lewed men rnay likne yow thus - that the beem lith in youre eighen,
And the festu is fallen, for youre defaute,

In alle manere men thorugh mansede preestes.
The Bible bereth witnesse that alle the [barnes] of Israel
Bittre aboughte the giltes of two badde preestes,
Offyn and Fynes - for hir coveitise
Archa Dei myshapped and Ely brak his nekke.
' Forthi, ye correctours, claweth heron, and correcteth first yowselve,
And thanne mowe ye manliche seye, as David made the Sauter
Existimasti inique quod ero tui similisArguam te, et statuam contra faciem t
'And thanne shul burel clerkes ben abasshed to blame yow or to greve,
And carpen noght as thei carpe now, and calle yow doumbe hounoes -
Canes non valentes latrare -
And drede to wrathe yow in any word, youre werkmanshipe to lette,
And be prester at youre preiere than for a pound of nobles.
And al for youre holynesse - have ye this in herte.
'Amonges rightful religious this rule sholde be holde.
Gregorie, the grete clerk and the goode pope,
Of religioun the rule reherseth in his Morales
And seith it in ensample for thei sholde do therafter
' Whan fisshes faillen the flood or the fresshe water,
Thei deyen for droughte, whan thei drie ligge;
Right so religion ro[i]leth [and] sterveth

That out of covent and cloistre coveiten to libbe.''
For if hevene be on this erthe, and ese to any soule,
It is in cloistre or in scole, by manye skiles I fynde.
For in cloistre cometh no man to chide ne to fighte,
But al is buxomnesse there and bokes, to rede and to lerne.
'In scole there is scorn but if a clerk wol lerne,
And gret love and likyng, for ech of hem l[er]eth oother.
Ac now is Religion a rydere, a romere by stretes,
A ledere of lovedayes and a lond buggere,
A prikere on a palfrey fro manere to manere,
An heep of houndes at his ers as he a lord were;
And but if his knave knele that shal his coppe brynge,
He loureth on hym and asketh hym who taughte hym curteisie?
Litel hadde lordes to doon to yyve lond from hire heires
To religious that han no routhe though it reyne on hir auters.
'In many places ther thei persons ben, by hemself at ese,
Of the povere have thei no pite - and that is hir pure charite,
Ac thei leten hem as lordes, hir lond lith so brode.
'Ac ther shal come a kyng and confesse yow religiouses,
And bete yow, as the Bible telleth, for brekynge of youre rule,
And amende monyals, monkes and chanons,
And puten hem to hir penaunce - Ad pristinum statum ire,
And barons with erles beten hem, thorugh Beatus virres techyng,
[Biyeten] that hir barnes clayrnen, and blame yow foule
Hii in curribus et hii in equis ipsi obligati sunt &c.

'And thanne freres in hir fraytour shul fynden a keye
Of Costantyns cofres, in which [the catel is]
That Gregories godchildren [g]an yvele despende.
'And thanne shal the Abbot of Abyngdoun and al his issue for evere
Have a knok of a kyng, and incurable the wounde.
That this worth sooth, seke ye that ofte overse the Bible
Quomodo cessavit exactor, quievit tributum? Contrivit Dominus
baculum impiorum, et virgam dominancium cedencium plaga insanabili.
'Ac er that kyng come Caym shal awake,
Ac Dowel shal dyngen hym adoun and destruye his myghte.'
'Thanne is Dowel and Dobet,' quod I, 'dominus and knyghthode?'
' I nel noght scorne,' quod Scripture; ' but if scryveynes lye,
Kynghod ne knyghthod, by noght I kan awayte,
Helpeth noght to heveneward oone heeris ende,
Ne richesse right noght, ne reautee of lordes.
' Poul preveth it impossible - riche men to have hevene.
Salamon seith also that silver is worst to lovye
Nichil iniquius quam amare pecuniam
And Caton kenneth us to coveiten it naught but as nede techeth
Dilige denarium set parce dilige formam.
And patriarkes and prophetes and poetes bothe
Writen to wissen us to wilne no richesse,
And preiseden poverte with pacience; the Apostles bereth witnesse
That thei han eritage in hevene - and by trewe righte,
Ther riche men no right may cleyme, but of ruthe and grace.'
' Contra,' quod I, ' by Crist! That kan I repreve,
And preven it by Peter and by Poul bothe
That is baptized beth saaf, be he riche or povere.'
'That is in extremis,' quod Scripture, ' amonges Sarsens and Jewes -
They mowen be saved so, and [so] is oure bileve
That an uncristene in that caas may cristen an hethen,
And for his lele bileve, whan he the lif tyneth,
Have the heritage of hevene as any man Cristene.
'Ac Cristene men withoute moore maye noght come to hevene,

For that Crist for Cristene men deide, and confermed the lawe
That whoso wolde and wilneth with Crist to arise -
Si cum Christo surrexistis &c -
He sholde lovye and lene and the lawe fulfille.
That is, love thi Lord God levest aboven alle,
And after, alle Cristene creatures in commune, ech man oother;
And thus bilongeth to lovye, that leveth to be saved.
And but we do thus in dede er the day of dome,
It shal bisitten us ful soure, the silver that we kepen,
And oure bakkes that mothe-eten be, and seen beggeris go naked,
Or delit in wyn and wildefowel, and wite any in defaute.
For every Cristene creature sholde be kynde til oother,
And sithen hethen to helpe in hope of amendement.
-God hoteth heighe and lowe that no man hurte oother,
And seith, 'Slee noght that semblable is to myn owene liknesse,
But if I sende thee som tokene,' and seith ' Non mecaberis -
Is slee noght but suffre, and al[so] for the beste,
For Michi vindictam et ego retribuam.
''For I shal punysshe in purgatorie or in the put of helle
Ech man for hise mysdedes, but mercy it lette.'
' This is a long lesson.' quod I, ' and litel am I the wiser!
Where Dowel is or Dobet derkliche ye shewen.
Manye tales ye tellen that Theologie lerneth,
And that I man maad was, and my name yentred
In the legende of lif longe er I were,
Or ellis unwriten for som wikkednesse, as Holy Writ witnesseth
Nemo ascendit ad celum nisi qui de celo descendit.
'And I leve it wel, by Oure Lord and on no lettrure bettre.
For Salomon the Sage that Sapienee [made]

God gaf hym grace of wit and alle goodes after
To rule the reume and riche to make;
He demed wel and wisely, as Holy Writ telleth.
Aristotle and he - who wissed men bettre?
Maistres that of Goddes mercy techen men and prechen,
Of hir wordes thei wissen us for wisest as in hir tyme -
And al Holy Chirche holdeth hem bothe [in helle]!
And if I sholde werche by hir werkes to wynne me hevene,
That for hir werkes and wit now wonyeth in pyne -
Thanne wroughte I unwisly. whatsoevere ye preche!
'Ac of fele witty, in feith, litel ferly I have
Though hir goost be ungracious God for to plese.
For many men on this moolde moore setten hir herte
In good than in God - forthi hem grace failleth
At hir mooste mesehief, whan [men] shal lif lete,
As Salamon dide and swiche othere, that shewed grete wittes,
Ac hir werkes, as Holy Writ seith, was evere the contrarie.
Forthi wise witted men and wel ylettred clerkes
As thei seyen hemself selde doon therafter
Super cathedram Moysi &c.
'Ac I wene it worth of manye as was in Noes tyme
Tho he shoop that ship of shides and of bordes
Was nevere wrighte saved that wroghte theron, ne oother werkman ellis,
But briddes and beestes and the blissed Noe
And his wif with hise sones and also hire wyves
Of wrightes that it wroghte was noon of hem ysaved.
'God lene it fare noght so bi folk that the feith techeth
Of Holi Chirche, that herberwe is and Goddes hous to save
And shilden us from shame therinne, as Noes ship dide beestes.
And men that maden it amydde the flood adreynten.
The culorum of this clause curatours is to mene,
That ben carpenters Holy Kirk to rnake for Cristes owene beestes
Homines et iumenta salvabis, Domine, &c.

At domesday the deluvye worth of deth and fir at ones;
Forthi I counseille yow clerkes, of Holy [Kirke] the wrightes,
Wercheth ye werkes as ye sen ywrite, lest ye worthe noght therinne!
'On Good Friday, I fynde, a felon was ysaved
That hadde lyved al his lif with lesynges and with thefte;
And for he beknew on the cros and to Crist shrof hym,
He was sonner ysaved than Seint Johan the Baptist
And or Adam or Ysaye or any of the prophetes,
That hadde yleyen with Lucifer many longe yeres.
A robbere was yraunsoned rather than thei alle
Withouten penaunce of purgatorie to perpetuel blisse.
' Than Marie Maudeleyne wh[o myghte do] werse?
Or who worse dide than David, that Uries deeth conspired?
Or Poul the Apostle that no pite hadde
Cristene kynde to kille to dethe?
And now ben thise as sovereyns with seintes in hevene -
Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest in world tho thei were;
And tho that wisely wordeden and writen manye bokes
Of wit and of wisedom, with dampned soules wonye.
-That Salomon seith I trowe be sooth and certein of us alle
Sunt iusti atque sapientes, et opera eorum in manu Dei sunt, &c.
Ther are witty and wel libbynge, ac hire werkes ben yhudde
In the hondes of almyghty God, and he woot the sothe -
Wher for love a man worth allowed there and hise lele werkes,
Or ellis for his yvel wille and envye of herte,
And be allowed as he lyved so, for by luthere men knoweth the goode
'And wherby wiste men which is whit, if alle thyng blak were,

And who were a good man but if ther were som sherewe?
Forthi lyve we forth with lithere men - I leve fewe ben goode -
For 'quant OPOR TET vient en place il ny ad que PA TI,'
And he that may al amende, have mercy on us alle!
For sothest word that ever God seide was tho he seide Nemo bonus.
'[And yet have I forgete ferther of fyve wittes techyng
That] Clergie of Cristes mouth comended was it [nevere];
For he seide to Seint Peter and to swiche as he lovede,
' Dum steteritis ante reges et presides &c.
Though ye come bifore kynges and clerkes of the lawe,
Beth noght abasshed, for I shal be in youre mouthes,
And yyve yow wit at wille [with] konnyng to conclude hem
Alle that ayeins yow of Cristendom disputen.'
'David maketh mencion, he spak amonges kynges,
And myghte no kyng overcomen hym as by konnynge of speche.
But wit ne wisedom wan nevere the maistrie
When man was at meschief withoute the moore grace.
'The doughtieste doctour and devinour of the Trinitee,
Was Austyn the olde, and heighest of the foure,
Seide thus in a sermon - I seigh it writen ones -
' Ecce ipsi idiote rapiunt celum ubi nos sapientes in inferno mergimur'
And is to mene to Englissh men, moore ne lesse,
Arn none rather yravysshed fro the righte bileve
Than an thise konnynge clerkes that konne manye bokes,
Ne none sonner saved, ne sadder of bileve
Than plowmen and pastours and povere commune laborers,
Souteres and shepherdes - swiche lewed juttes
Perce with a Paternoster the paleys of hevene

And passen purgatorie penauncelees at hir hennes partyng
Into the blisse of paradis for hir pure bileve,
That inparfitly here knewe and ek lyvede.
' Ye, men knowe clerkes that han corsed the tyme
That evere thei kouthe or knewe moore than Credo in Deum patrem
And principally hir paternoster - many a persone hath wisshed.
'I se ensamples myself and so may manye othere,
That servaunts that serven lordes selde fallen in arerage
But tho that kepen the lordes catel - clerkes and reves.
Right so lewed men and of litel knowyng,
Selden falle thei so foule and so fer in synne
As clerkes of Holy Kirke that kepen Cristes tresor -
The which is mannes soule to save, as God seith in the Gospel
''Ite vos in vineam meam.'''

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 15

Ac after my wakynge it was wonder longe
Er I koude kyndely knowe what was Dowel.
And so my wit weex and wanyed til I a fool weere;
And some lakked my lif - allowed it fewe -
And leten me for a lorel and looth to reverencen
Lordes or ladies or any lif ellis -
As persons in pelure with pendaunts of silver;
To sergeaunts ne to swiche seide noght ones,
' God loke yow, lordes!' - ne loutede faire,
That folk helden me a fool; and in that folie I raved,
Til reson hadde ruthe on me and rokked me aslepe,
Til I seigh, as it sorcerie were, a sotil thyng withalle -
Oon withouten tonge and teeth, tolde me whider I sholde
And wherof I cam and of what kynde. I conjured hym at the laste,
If he were Cristes creature for Cristes love me to tellen.
' I am Cristes creature,' quod he, 'and Cristene in many a place,
In Cristes court yknowe wel, and of his kyn a party.
Is neither Peter the Porter, ne Poul with the fauchon,
That wole defende me the dore, dynge I never so late.
At mydnyght, at mydday, my vois is so yknowe
That ech a creature of his court welcometh me faire.'
'What are ye called?' quod I, 'in that court among Cristes peple?'
'The whiles I quykne the cors,' quod he, 'called am I Anima;
And whan I wilne and wolde, Animus ich hatte;
And for that I kan and knowe, called am I Mens;
And whan I make mone to God, Memoria is my name;
And whan I deme domes and do as truthe techeth,
Thanne is Racio my righte name - ''reson'' on Englissh;
And whan I feele that folk telleth, my firste name is Sensus -
And that is wit and wisdom, the welle of alle craftes;
And whan I chalange or chalange noght, chepe or refuse,

Thanne am I Conseience ycalled, Goddes clerk and his notarie;
And whan I love leelly Oure Lord and alle othere,
Thanne is ''lele Love'' my name, and in Latyn Amor;
And whan I flee fro the flessh and forsake the careyne,
Thanne am I spirit spechelees - and Spiritus thanne ich hatte.
Austyn and Ysodorus, either of hem bothe
Nempnede me thus to name - now thow myght chese
How thow coveitest to calle me, now thow knowest alle my names.
Anima pro diversis accionibus diversa nomina sortiturdum
vivificat corpus, anima est; dum vult, animus est; dum scit,
mens est; dum recolit, memoria est; dum iudicat, racio est;
dum sentit, sensus est; dum amat, Amor est ; dum negat vel
consentit, consciencia est; dum spirat, spiritus est.'
'Ye ben as a bisshop,' quod I, al bourdynge that tyme,
' For bisshopes yblessed, thei bereth manye names -
Presul and Pontifex and Metropolitanus,
And othere names an heep, Episcopus and Pastor.'
'That is sooth,' seide he, 'now I se thi wille!
Thow woldest knowe and konne the cause of alle hire names,
And of myne, if thow myghtest, me thynketh by thi speche!'
' Ye, sire,' I seide, 'by so no man were greved,
Alle the sciences under sonne and alle the sotile craftes
I wolde I knewe and kouthe kyndely in myn herte!'
'Thanne artow inparfit,' quod he, 'and oon of Prides knyghtes!
For swich a lust and likyng Lucifer fel from hevene
Ponam pedem meum in aquilone et similis ero Altissimo.
'It were ayeins kynde,' quod he, 'and alle kynnes reson
That any creature sholde konne al, except Crist oone.
Ayein swiche Salomon speketh, and despiseth hir wittes,
And seith, Sicut qui mel comedit multum non est ei bonum,
Sic qui scrutator est maiestatis opprimitur a gloria.
'To Englisshe men this is to mene, that mowen speke and here,

The man that muche hony eteth his mawe it engleymeth,
And the moore that a man of good matere hereth,
But he do therafter it dooth hym doubie scathe.
'' Beatus est,' seith Seint Bernard, '' qui scripturas iegit
Et verba vertit in opera fulliche to his power.'
Coveitise to konne and to knowe science
Putte out of Paridis Adam and Eve
Sciencie appetitus hominem inmortalitatis gloriam spoliavit.
'And right as hony is yvel to defie and engleymeth the mawe,
Right so that thorugh reson wolde the roote knowe
Of God and of hise grete myghtes - hise graces it letteth.
For in the likynge lith a pride and licames coveitise
Ayein Cristes counseil and alle clerkes techynge -
That is Non plus sapere quam oportet sapere.
' Freres and fele othere maistres that to the lewed men prechen,
Ye moeven materes unmesurable to tellen of the Trinite,
That oftetymes the lewed peple of hir bileve doute.
Bettre it were by many doctours to bileven swich techyng
And tellen men of the ten comaundements, and touchen the sevene synnes,
And of the braunches that burjoneth of hem and bryngen men to helle,
And how that folk in folies mysspenden hir fyve wittes -
As wel freres as oother folk, foliliche spenden
In housynge, in haterynge, in to heigh clergie shewynge
Moore for pompe than for pure charite - the peple woot the sothe!
That I lye noght, loo! - for lordes ye plesen,
And reverencen the riche the rather for hir silver
Confundantur omnes qui adorant sculptilia. Et alibi,
Ut quid diligitis vanitatem, et queritis mendacium?
'Goeth to the glose of the vers, ye grete clerkes;

If I lye on yow to my lewed wit, ledeth me to brennyng!
For as it semeth ye forsaketh no mannes almesse -
Of usurers, of hoores, of varouse chapmen -
And louten to thise lordes that mowen lene yow nobles
Aye in youre rule and religion - I take record at Jesus,
That seide to hise disciples, '' Ne sitis acceptores personarum.''
Of this matere I myghte make a long bible;
Ac of curatours of Cristen peple, as clerkes bereth witnesse,
I shal tellen it for truthes sake - take hede whoso liketh!
'As holynesse and honeste out of Holy Chirche spredeth
Thorugh lele libbynge men that Goddes lawe techen,
Right so out of Holy Chirche alle yveles spredeth
There inparfit preesthode is, prechours and techeris.
And se it by ensaumple in somer tyme on trowes
Ther some bowes ben leved and some bereth none,
Ther is a meschief in the more of swiche manere bowes.
Right so persons and preestes and prechours of Holi Chirche
Is the roote of the right feith to rule the peple;
Ac ther the roote is roten, reson woot the sothe,
Shal nevere fiour ne fruyt, ne fair leef be grene.
'Forthi wolde ye lettrede leve the lecherie of clothyng,
And be kynde as bifel for clerkes and curteise of Cristes goodes,
Trewe of youre tonge and of youre tail bothe,
And hatien to here harlotrie, and aught to underfonge
Tithes of untrewe thyng ytilied or chaffared -
Lothe were lewed men but thei youre loore folwede
And amenden hem that thei mysdoon, moore for youre ensaumples
Than for to prechen and to preven it noght - ypocrisie it semeth!
For ypocrisie in Latyn is likned to a dongehill
That were bisnewed with snow, and snakes withinne,

Or to a wal that were whitlymed and were foul withinne.
Right so manye preestes, prechours and prelates -
Ye [b]en enblaunched with bele paroles and with clothes,
Ac youre werkes and wordes therunder aren ful w[o]lveliche.
Johannes Crisostomus of clerkes speketh and preestes
Sicut de templo omne bonum progreditur, sic de templo omne
malum procedit. Si sacerdocium integrum fuerit, tota floret
ecclesia; si autem corruptum fuerit, omnium fides marcida est.
Si sacerdocium fuerit in peccatis, totus populus convertitur
ad peccandum. Sicut cum videris arborem pallidam et marcidam
intelligis quod vicium habet in radice, ita cum videris
populum indisciplinatum et irreligiosum, sine dubio
sacerdocium eius non est sanum.
'If lewed men wiste what this Latyn meneth,
And who was myn auctour, muche wonder me thinketh
But if many preest beere, for hir baselardes and hir broches,
A peire of bedes in hir hand and a book under hir arme.
Sire Johan and Sire Geffrey hath a girdel of silver,
A baselard or a ballok-knyf with botons overgilte.
Ac a porthors that sholde be his plow, Placebo to sigge,
Hadde he nevere, [his] service to [h]ave,
[And save he have] silver therto, seith it with ydel wille.
'Allas, ye lewed men, muche lese ye on preestes!
Ac thing that wikkedly is wonne, and with false sleightes,
Wolde nevere the wit of witty God but wikkede men it hadde -

The whiche arn preestes inparfite and prechours after silver,
Executours and sodenes, somonours and hir lemmannes.
This that with gile was geten, ungraciousliche is spended.
So harlotes and hores arn holpe with swiche goodes,
Ac Goddes folk for defaute therof forfaren and spillen.
'Curatours of Holy Kirke, and clerkes that ben avarouse,
Lightliche that thei leven, losels it habbeth,
Or deieth intestate, and thanne [entreth the bisshop]
And maketh murthe therwith, and hise meyne both,
And seyen, ''He was a nygard, that no good myghte aspare
To frend ne to fremmed - the fend have his soule!
For a wrecehede hous he held al his lif tyme,
And that he spared and bispered, spende we in murthe!''
'By lered, by lewed, that looth is to spende -
Thus goon hire goodes, be the goost faren.
Ac for goode men, God woot, greet doel men maken,
And bymeneth goode meteyyveres, and in mynde haveth
In preieres and in penaunces and in parfit charite.'
' What is charite?' quod I tho. 'A childissh thyng,' he seide -
' Nisi efficiamini sicut parvuli, non intrabitis in regnum celorum -
Withouten fauntelte or folie a fre liberal wille.'
'Where sholde men fynde swich a frend with so fre an herte?
I have lyved in londe,' quod I, 'my name is Longe Wille -
And fond I nevere ful charite, bifore ne bihynde.
Men beth merciable to mendinaunts and to poore,
And wollen lenc ther thei leve lelly to ben paied.
Ac charite that Poul preiseth best and moost plesaunt to Oure Saveour -
As Non inflatur, non est ambiciosa, non querit que sua sunt -
I seigh nevere swich a man, so me God helpe,

That he ne wolde aske after his, and outherwhile coveite
Thyng that neded hym noght - and nyme it, if he myghte!
'Clerkes kenne me that Crist is in alle places;
Ac I seigh hym nevere soothly but as myself in a mirour
Hic in enigmate, tunc facie ad faciem.
And so I trowe trewely, by that men telleth of charite,
It is noght chaumpions fight, ne chaffare, as I trowe.'
'Charite,' quod he, 'ne chaffareth noght, ne chalangeth, ne craveth;
As proud of a peny as of a pound of golde,
And is as glad of a gowne of a gray russet
As of a tunycle of Tarse of of trie scarlet.
He is glad with alle glade and good til alle wikkede,
And leneth and loveth alle that Oure Lord made.
Corseth he no creature, ne he kan bere no wrathe,
Ne no likynge hath to lye ne laughe men to scorne.
Al that men seyn, he leet it sooth, and in solace taketh,
And alle manere meschiefs in myldenesse he suffreth.
Coveiteth he noon erthely good but heveneriche blisse.'
'Hath he any rentes or richesse, or any riche frendes?'
'Of rentes ne of richesse rekketh he nevere,
For a frend that fyndeth hym, failed hym nevere at nede
Fiat voluntas tua fynt hym everemoore,
And if he soupeth, eteth but a sop of Spera in Deo.
He kan portreye wel the Paternoster and peynte it with Aves,
And outherwhile he is woned to wenden on pilgrymages
Ther poore men and prisons liggeth, hir pardon to have;
Though he bere hem no breed, he bereth hem swetter liflode,
Loveth hem as Oure Lord biddeth and loketh how thei fare.
'And whan he is wery of that werk than wole he som tyme
Labouren in a lavendrye wel the lengthe of a mile,
And yerne into youthe, and yepeliche seche
Pride, with al the appurtenaunces, and pakken hem togideres,
And bouken hem at his brest and beten hern clene,
And leggen on longe with Laboravi in gemitu meo,

And with warm water at hise eighen wasshen hem after.
Thanne he syngeth whan he doth so, and som tyme seith wepynge,
Cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non despicies.'
'By Crist! I wolde that I knewe hym,' quod I, 'no creature levere!'
'Withouten help of Piers Plowman,' quod he, 'his persone sestow nevere.'
'Wheither clerkes knowen hym,' quod I, 'that kepen Holi Kirke?'
'Clerkes have no knowyng,' quod he, 'but by werkes and by wordes.
Ac Piers the Plowman parceyveth moore depper
What is the wille, and wherfore that many wight suffreth
Et vidit Deus cogitaciones eorum.
For ther are ful proude herted men, pacient of tonge
And buxome as of berynge to burgeises and to lordes,
And to poore peple han pepir in the nose,
And as a lyoun he loketh ther men lakken hise werkes.
' For ther are beggeris and bidderis, bedemen as it were,
Loken as lambren and semen lif-holy -
Ac it is moore to have hir mete on swich an esy manere
Than for penaunce and parfitnesse, the poverte that swiche taketh.
'Therfore by colour ne by clergie knowe shaltow hym nevere,
Neither thorugh wordes ne werkes, but thorugh wil oone,
And that knoweth no clerk ne creature on erthe
But Piers the Plowman - Petrus, id est, Christus.
For he nys noght in lolleris ne in londleperis heremytes,
Ne at ancres there a box hangeth - alle swiche thei faiten.
Fy on faitours and infautores suos!
For Charite is Goddes champion, and as a good child hende,
And the murieste of mouth at mete where he sitteth.
The love that lith in his herte maketh hym light of speche,
And is compaignable and confortatif, as Crist bit hymselve
Nolite fieri sicut ypocrite tristes .
For I have seyen hym in silk and som tyme in russet,
Bothe in grey, and in grys, and in gilt harneis -
And as gladliche he it gaf to gomes that it neded.
'Edmund and Edward, either were kynges

And seintes yset - [s]til[le] charite hem folwede.
'I have yseyen charite also syngen and reden,
Riden, and rennen in raggede wedes;
Ac biddynge as beggeris biheld I hym nevere.
Ac in riche robes rathest he walketh,
Ycalled and ycrymyled and his crowne yshave.
And in a freres frokke he was yfounden ones -
Ac it is fern ago, in Seint Fraunceis tyme;
In that secte siththe to selde hath he ben knowen.
'Riche men he recomendeth, and of hir robes taketh
That withouten wiles ledeth hir lyves
Beatus est dives qui, .
'In kynges court he cometh ofte, ther the counseil is trewe;
Ac if coveitise be of the counseil he wol noght come therinne.
In court amonges japeris he cometh but selde,
For braulynge and bakbitynge and berynge of fals witnesse.
'In the consistorie bifore the commissarie he corneth noght ful ofte,
For hir lawe dureth overlonge but if thei lacchen silver,
And matrimoyne for moneie maken and unmaken,
And that conseience and Crist hath yknyt faste,
Thei undoon it un[digne]ly, tho doctours of lawe.
'Amonges erchebisshopes and other bisshopes and prelates of Holy Chirche,
For to wonye with hem his wone was som tyme,
And Cristes patrimonye to the poore parcelmele dele.
Ac avarice hath the keyes now and kepeth for his kynnesmen
And for his seketoures and his servaunts, and som for hir children.
'Ac I ne lakke no lif, but, Lord, amende us alle.
And gyve us grace, goode God, charite to folwe!
For whoso myghte meete with hym, swiche maneres hym eileth -

Neither he blameth ne banneth, bosteth ne preiseth,
Lakketh, ne loseth, ne loketh up sterne,
Craveth, ne coveiteth, ne crieth after moore
In pace in idipsum dormiam .
The mooste liflode that he lyveth by is love in Goddes passion;
Neither he biddeth, ne beggeth, ne borweth to yelde;
Misdooth he no man, ne with his mouth greveth.
'Amonges Cristene men this myldenesse sholde laste,
In alle manere angres have this at herte -
That theigh thei suffrede al this, God suffrede for us moore
In ensample we sholde do so, and take no vengeaunce
Of oure foes that dooth us falsnesse - that is oure fadres wille.
For wel may every man wite, if God hadde wold hymselve,
Sholde nevere Judas ne Jew have Jesu doon on roode,
Ne han martired Peter ne Poul, ne in prison holden.
Ac he suffre in ensample that we sholde suffren also,
And seide to swiche that suffre wolde that Pacientes vincunt.
' Verbi gratia,' quod he - and verred ensamples manye.
'In Legenda Sanctorum, the lif of holy seintes,
What penaunce and poverte and passion thei suffrede -
In hunger, in hete, in alle manere angres.
'Antony and Egidie and othere holy fadres
Woneden in wildernesse among wilde beestes;
Monkes and mendinaunts. men by hemselve
In spekes and in spelonkes, selde speken togideres.
Ac neither Antony ne Egidie ne heremyte that tyme
Of leons ne of leopardes no liflode ne toke,
But of foweles that fleeth - thus fyndeth men in bokes -
Except that Egidie after an hynde cride,
And thorugh the mylk of that mylde beest the man was sustened;
And day bi day hadde he hire noght his hunger for to slake,
But selden and sondry tymes, as seith the book and techeth.
Antony adayes aboute noon tyme
Hadde a brid that broughte hym breed that he by lyvede;
And though the gome hadde a gest, God fond hem bothe.
'Poul primus heremita hadde parroked hymselve,

That no man myghte hym se for mosse and for leves.
Foweles hym fedde fele wyntres with alle
Til he foundede freres of Austynes ordre.
Poul, after his prechyng, paniers he made,
And wan with hise hondes that his wornbe neded.
Peter fisshed for his foode, and his felawe Andrew
Som thei solde and som thei soden, and so thei lyved bothe.
And also Marie Maudeleyne by mores lyvede and dewes,
Ac moost thorugh devocion and mynde of God Almyghty.
I sholde noght thise seven daies siggen hem alle
That lyveden thus for Oure Lordes love many longe yeres.
'Ac ther ne was leoun ne leopard that on laundes wenten,
Neither bere, ne boor, ne oother beest wilde
That ne fil to hir feet and fawned with the tailles;
And if thei kouthe han ycarped, by Crist, as I trowe,
Thei wolde have yfed that folk bifore wilde foweles.
For al the curteisie that beestes konne, thei kidde that folk ofte,
In likkyng and in lowynge, there thei on laundes yede.
Ac God sente hem foode by foweles, and by no fierse beestes,
In menynge that meke thyng mylde thyng sholde fede.
As who seith religious rightfulle men sholde fynde,
And lawefulle men to lif-holy rnen liflode brynge;
And thanne wolde lordes and ladies be looth to agulte,
And to taken of hir tenaunts more than trouthe wolde,
Founde thei that freres wolde forsake hir almesses,
And bidden hem bere it there it was yborwed.
For we ben Goddes foles and abiden alwey,
Til briddes brynge us that we sholde [by lyve].
For hadde ye potage and payn ynogh, and peny ale to drynke,
And a mees thermyd of o maner kynde,

Ye hadde right ynogh ye religiouse - and so youre rule me tolde.
Numquid, dicit Job rugiet onager cum habuerit herbam ?
Aut mugiet bos cum ante plenum presepe steterit ? Brutorum
animalium natura te condempnat, quia cum eis pabulum commune
sufficiat; ex adipe prodiit iniquitas tua.
'If lewed men knewe this Latyn, thei wolde loke whom thei yeve,
And avisen hem bifore a fyve dayes or sixe
Er thei amortisede [moore] to monkes or chanons hir rentes.
Allas! lordes and ladies, lewed counseil have ye
To yyve from youre heires that youre aiels you lefte,
And yyveth to bidde for yow to swiche that ben riche,
And ben founded and feffed ek to bidde for othere!
'Who parfourneth this prophecie, of the peple that now libbeth -
Dispersit, dedit pauperibus ?
If any peple parfourne that tent, it are thise poore freres
For that thei beggen aboute, in buyldynge thei spende,
And on hemself som, and swiche as ben hir laborers;
And of hem that habbeth thei taken, and yyveth hem that ne habbeth!
'Ac clerkes and knyghtes, and communers that ben riche,
Fele of yow fareth as if I a forest hadde
That were ful of faire trees, and I fondede and caste
How I myghte mo therinne amonges hem sette.
Right so ye riche - ye robeth that ben riche,
And helpeth hem that helpeth yow, and yyveth ther no nede is;
As whoso filled a tonne ful of a fressh ryver,
And wente forth with that water to woke with Themese.
Right so ye riche, ye robeth and fedeth

Hem that han as ye han - hem ye make at ese.
'Ac religiouse that riche ben sholde rather feeste beggeris
Than burgeises that riche ben, as the book techeth
Quia sacrilegium est res pauperum non pauperibus dare.
Itempeccatoribus dare est demonibus immolare.
Itemmonache, si indiges et accipis, pocius das quam accipis;
Si autem non eges et accipis, rapis.
Porro non indiget monachus, si habeat quod nature sufficit.
' Forthi I counseille alle Cristene to conformen hem to charite -
For charite withouten chalangynge unchargeth the soule,
And many a prison fram purgatorie thorugh hise preieres he delivereth.
Ac ther is a defaute in the folk that the feith kepeth,
Wherfore folk is the febler, and noght ferm of bileve.
As in lussheburwes is a luther alay, and yet loketh he lik a sterlyng
The merk of that monee is good, ac the metal is feble.
And so it fareth by som folk nowthci han a fair speche,
Crowne and Cristendom, the kynges mark of hevene,
Ac the metal, that is mannes soule, with [many] synne is foule[d].
Bothe lettred and lewed beth alayed now with synne,
That no lif loveth oother, ne Oure Lord, as it semeth.
For what thorugh werre and wikkede werkes and wederes unresonable,
Wederwise shipmen and witty clerkes also
Have no bileve to the lifte, ne to the loore of philosophres.
'Astronomiens alday in hir art faillen
That whilom warned bifore what sholde falle after;
Shipmen and shepherdes, that with ship and sheep wenten,
Wisten by the walkne what sholde bitide,
Tilieris that tiled the erthe tolden hir maistres
By the seed that thei sewe whit thei selle myghte,
And what to leve and to lyve by, the lond was so trewe;

Now failleth the folk of the flood and of the lond bothe -
Shepherdes and shipmen, and so do thise tilieris
Neither thei konneth ne knoweth oon cours bifore another.
'Astronomyens also aren at hir wittes ende
Of that was calculed of the clem[a]t, the contrarie thei fynde.
Grammer, the ground of al, bigileth now children
For is noon of thise newe clerkes - whoso nymeth hede -
That kan versifye faire ne formaliche enditen,
Ne naught oon among an hundred that an auctour kan construwe,
Ne rede a lettre in any langage but in Latyn or in Englissh.
'Go now to any degree, and but if gile be maister,
And flaterere his felawe [to fourmen under hym],
Muche wonder me thynketh amonges us alle!
Doctours of decrees and of divinite maistres,
That sholde konne and knowe alle kynnes clergie,
And answere to arguments and also to a quodlibet -
I dar noght siggen it for shame - if swiche were apposed,
Thei sholde faillen of hir Philosophie, and in Phisik bothe.
'Wherfore I am afered of folk of Holy Kirke,
Lest thei overhuppen, as oothere doon, in Office and in Houres.
Ac if thei overhuppe - as I hope noght - oure bileve suffiseth;
As clerkes in Corpus Christi feeste syngen and reden
That sola fides sufficit to save with lewed peple -
And so may Sarsens be saved, scribes and Jewes.
'Allas thanne! but oure looresmen lyve as thei leren us,
And for hir lyvynge that lewed men be the lother God agulten.
For Sarsens han somwhat semynge to oure bileve,
For thei love and bileve in o [Lede] almyghty,
And we, lered and lewed, [bileveth in oon God] -
Cristene and uncristene on oon [creatour] bileveth.

Ac oon Makometh, a man, in mysbileve
Broughte Sarsens of Surree - and see in what manere.
'This Makometh was a Cristene man and for he moste noght ben a pope,
Into Surrie he soughte. and thorugh hise sotile wittes
Daunted a dowve, and day and nyght hire fedde.
The corn that she croppede, he caste it in his ere;
And if he among the peple preched, or in places come,
Thanne wolde the colvere come to the clerkes ere
Menynge as after mete - thus Makometh hire enchauntede,
And dide folk thanne falle on knees, for he swoor in his prechyng
That the colvere that com so com from God of hevene
As messager to Makometh, men for to teche.
And thus thorugh wiles of his wit and a whit dowve
Makometh in mysbileve men and wommen broughte,
That lered there and lewed yit leeven on hise lawes.
'And siththe Oure Saveour suffred the Sarsens so bigiled
Thorugh a Cristene clerk acorsed in his soule -
Ac for drede of the deeth I dar noght telle truthe,
How Englisshe clerkes a colvere fede that Coveitise highte,
And ben manered after Makometh, that no man useth trouthe.
'Ancres and heremytes, and monkes and freres
Peeren to Apostles thorugh hire parfit lyvynge.
Wolde nevere the feithful Fader that hise ministres sholde
Of tiraunts that teneth trewe men taken any almesse,
But doon as Antony dide, Dominyk and Fraunceys,
Beneit and Bernard [bo]the, whiche hem first taughte
To lyve by litel and in lowe houses by lele mennes almesse.
Grace sholde growe and be grene thorugh hir goode lyvynge,
And folkes sholden fynde, that ben in diverse siknesse,
The bettre for hir biddynges in body and in soule.
Hir preieres and hir penaunces to pees sholde brynge
Alle that ben at debaat, and bedemen were trewe
Petite et accipietis .

' Salt saveth catel,' siggen thise wyves ;
Vos estis sal terre .
The hevedes of Holy Chirche - and thei holy were -
Crist calleth hem salt for Cristene soules,
Et si sal evanuerit, in quo salietur ?
Ac fressh flessh outher fissh, whan it salt failleth,
It is unsavory, for sothe, ysoden or ybake;
So is mannes soule, soothly, that seeth no good ensample
Of hem of Holi Chirche that the heighe wey sholde teche
And be gide, and go bifore as a good banyer,
And hardie hem that bihynde ben, and yyve hem good evidence.
' Ellevene holy men al the world tornede
Into lele bileve; the lightloker, me thynketh.
Sholde alle maner men, we han so manye maistres-
Preestes and prechours, and a pope above,
That Goddes salt sholde be, to save mannes soule.
'Al was hethynesse som tyme Engelond and Walis,
Til Gregory garte clerkes to go here and preche.
Austyn [cristnede the kyng at Caunterbury],
And thorugh miracles, as men mow rede, al that marche he tornede
To Crist and to Cristendom, and cros to honoure,
And follede folk faste, and the feith taughte
Moore thorugh miracles than thorugh muche prechyng,
As wel thorugh hise werkes as with hise holy wordes,
And [fourmed] what fullynge and feith was to mene.
'Clooth that cometh fro the wevyng is noght comly to were
Til it be fulled under foot or in fullyng stokkes,
Wasshen wel with water and with taseles cracched,
Ytouked and yteynted and under taillours hande;
And so it fareth by a barn that born is of wombe
Til it be cristned in Cristes name and confermed of the bisshop,
It is hethene as to heveneward, and helplees to the soule.
' Hethen' is to mene after heeth and untiled erthe -
As In wilde wildernesse wexeth wilde beess,

Rude and unresonable, rennynge withouten keperes.
'Ye mynnen wel how Mathew seith, how a man made a feste
He fedde hem with no venyson, ne fesaunts ybake,
But with foweles that fram hym nolde, but folwede his whistlyng
Ecce altilia mea et omnia parata sunt -
And with calves flessh he fedde the folk that he lovede.
'The calf bitokneth clennesse in hem that kepeth lawes;
For as the cow thorugh kynde mylk the calf norisseth til an oxe,
So love and leaute lele men susteneth;
And maidenes and mylde men mercy desiren
Right as the cow-calf coveiteth swete melk -
So [muche] don rightfulle men mercy and truthe.
And by the hond-fedde foweles his folk understonde
That looth ben to lovye withouten lernynge of ensaumples.
Right as capons in a court cometh to mennes whistlynge -
In menynge after mete folweth men that whistlen -
Right so rude men that litel reson konneth
Loven and bileven by lettred mennes doynges,
And by hire wordes and werkes wenen and trowen
And as tho foweles to fynde foode after whistlynge,
So hope thei to have hevene thorugh hir [wiss]ynge.
And the man that made the feste the mageste bymeneth -
That is God, of his grace gyveth alle men blisse.
With wederes and with wondres he warneth us with a whistlere
Where that his wil is, to worshipen us alle,
And feden us and festen us for everemoore at oones.
'Ac who beth that excuseth hem that arn persons and preestes
(That hevedes of Holy Chirche ben) that han hir wil here
Withouten travaille the tithe deel that trewe men biswynken -
Thei wol be wrooth for I write thus-ac to witnesse I take

Bothe Mathew and Mark and Memento Domine David
Ecce audivimus e[a]m in Effrata .
What pope or prelate now parfourneth that Crist highte-
Ite in universum mundum et predicate ?
'Allas, that men so longe on Makometh sholde bileve!
So manye prelates to preche as the Pope maketh -
Of Nazareth, of Nynyve, of Neptalym and Damaske.
That thei ne wente as Crist wisseth - sithen thei wilne a name -
To be pastours and preche the passion of Jesus,
And as hymself seide, so to lyve and dye
Bonus pastor animam suam ponit ,
And seide it in salvacion of Sarsens and othere -
For Cristene and uncristene, Crist seide to prechours,
Ite vos in vineam meam .
'And sith that thise Sarsens, scribes and Jewes
Han a lippe of oure bileve, the lightloker, me thynketh, .
Thei sholde turne, whoso travaile wolde to teche hem of the Trinite
Querite et invenietis .
For alle paynymes preieth and parfitly bileweth
In the [grete holy] God, and his grace asken,
And make hir mone to Makometh, hir message to shewe.
Thus in a feith leveth that folk, and in a fals mene,
And that is routhe for rightful men that in the reawme wonyen,
And a peril to the Pope and prelates that he maketh,
That bere bisshopes names of Bethleem and Babiloigne.

'Whan the hye kyng of hevene sente his sone to erthe,
Many miracles he wroughte man for to turne,
In ensaumple that men sholde se by sadde reson
Men myghte noght be saved but thorugh mercy and grace,
And thorugh penaunce, and passion, and parfit byleve;
And bicam man of a mayde, and metropolitanus,
And baptised and bishined with the blode of his herte
Alle that wilned and wolde with inwit bileve it.
Many a seynt siththen hath suffred to deye,
Al for to enforme the feith in fele contrees deyeden -
In Inde, and in Alisaundre, in Ermonye and in Spayne,
In doelful deth deyeden for hir feith sake.
In savacion of the feith Seint Thomas was ymartired
Amonges unkynde Cristene for Cristes love he deyede,
And for the right of al this reume and alle reumes Cristene.
Holy Chirche is honoured heighliche thorugh his deying;
He is a forbisene to alle bisshopes and a bright myrour,
And sovereynliche to swiche that of Surrye bereth the name,
And naught to huppe aboute in Engelond to halwe mennes auteres,
And crepe in amonges curatours and confessen ageyn the lawe
Nolite mittere falsem in messem alienam .
Many man for Cristes love was martired amonges Romaynes
Er Cristendom were knowe ther or any cros honoured.
'It is ruthe to rede how rihtwise men lyved -

How thei defouled hir flessh, forsoke hir owene wille,
Fer fro kyth and fro kyn yvele yclothed yeden,
Baddely ybedded, no book but conscience,
Ne no richesse but the roode to rejoisse hem inne
Absit nobis gloriari nisi in cruce Domini nostri .
'And tho was plentee and pees amonges poore and riche;
And now is routhe to rede how the rede noble
Is reverenced er the roode, receyved for the worthier
Than Cristes cros that overcam deeth and dedly synne.
And now is werre and wo, and whoso why asketh -
For coveitise after cros; the croune stant in golde.
Bothe richc and religious, that roode thei honoure
That in grotes is ygrave and in gold nobles.
For coveitise of that cros [clerkes] of Holy Kirke
Shul torne as Templers dide - the tyme approcheth faste.
' [Mynne] ye noght, wise men, how tho men honoured
Moore tresor than trouthe? I dar noght telle the sothe;
Reson and rightful doom tho religious demede.
Right so, ye clerkes, for youre coveitise, er [come aught] longe,
Shal thei demen dos ecclesie, and [depose youre pride]
Deposuit potentes de sede .
'If knyghthod and kynde wit, and the commune and conscience
Togideres love leelly, leveth it wel, ye bisshopes -
The lordshipe of londes [lese ye shul for evere],
And lyven as Levitici, as Oure Lord yow techeth
Per primicias et decimas .
'Whan Costantyn of curteisie Holy Kirke dowed
With londes and ledes, lordshipes and rentes,
An aungel men herden an heigh at Rome crye,

' Dos ecclesie this day hath ydronke venym,
And tho that han Petres power arn apoisoned alle!'
A medicyne moot therto that may amende prelates,
That sholden preie for the pees; possession hem letteth.
Taketh hire landes, ye lordes, and leteth hem lyve by dymes;
If possession be poison, and inparfite hem make,
Good were to deschargen hem for Holy Chirehes sake,
And purgen hem of poison, er moore peril falle.
If preesthode were parfit, the peple sholde amende,
That contrarien Cristes lawe, and Cristendom dispise.
'Every bisshop that bereth cros, by that he is holden
Thorugh his province to passe, and to his peple to shewe hym,
Tellen hem and techen hem on the Trinite to bileve,
And feden hem with goostly foode, and nedy folk to fynden.
Ac Ysaie of yow speketh and Osias bothe,
That no man sholde be bisshop but if he hadde bothe
Bodily foode and goostly foode to gyve there it nedeth
In domo mea non est panis neque vestimentum, et ideo nolite constituere me regem
Osias seith for swiche that sike ben and feble,
Inferte omnes decimas in orreum meum, ut sit cibus in domo mea.
'Ac we Cristene creatures, that on the cros bileven,
Arn ferme as in the feith-Goddes forbode ellis! -
And han clerkes to kepen us therinne, and hem that shul come after us.
And Jewes lyven in lele lawe-Oure Lord wroot it hymselve
In stoon, for it stedefast was, and stonde sholde evere -
Dilige Deum et proximum, is parfit Jewen lawe -
And teok it Moyses to teche men, til Messie coom
And on that lawe thei leve, and leten it for the beste.

And yit knewe thei Crist, that Cristendom taughte,
And for a parfit prophete that muche peple savede
Of selkouthe sores; thei seighen it ofte -
Bothe of miracles and merveilles, and how he men festede,
With two fisshes and fyve loves fyve thousand peple -
And by that mangerie thei myghte wel se that Messie he semede;
And whan he lifte up Lazar, that leid was in grave,
And under stoon deed and stank, with stif vois hym callede,
Lazare, veni foras,
Dide hym rise and rome right bifore the Jewes.
Ac thei seiden and sworen, with sorcerie he wroughte,
And studieden to struyen hym - and struyden hemselve,
And thorugh his pacience hir power to pure noght he broughte
Pacientes vincunt.
'Daniel of hire undoynge devyned and seide,
Cum sanctus sanctorum veniat cessabit unxio vestra.
And yit wenen tho wrecches that he were pseudo-propheta
And that his loore be lesynges, and lakken it alle,
And hopen that he be to come that shal hem releve -
Moyses eft or Messie hir maistres devyneth.
'Ac pharisees and sarsens, scribes and Jewes
Arn folk of oon feith - the fader God thei honouren.
And sithen that the Sarsens and also the Jewes
Konne the firste clause of oure bileve, Credo in Deum patrem omnipotentem,
Prelates of Cristene provinces sholde preve, if thei myghte,
Lere hem litlum and litlum Et in Jesum Chrisium filium,
Til thei kouthe speke and spelle Et in Spiritum santum,
And rendren it and recorden it with remissionem peccatorum,
Carnis resurreccionem et vitam eternam. Amen.'