William Langland: Verses about Passion

In a somer sesun, whon softe was the sonn{.e},
I schop me into a shroud, as I a scheep wer{.e};
In habite as an hermite unholy of werk{.e}s
Wente I wyde in this world wondr{.e}s to her{.e};
Bote in a May{.e}s morwnynge on Malverne hull{.e}s
Me bifel a ferly, of fairie, me-thought{.e}.

I was wery, forwandr{.e}d, and went{.e} me to rest{.e}
Undur a brod banke bi a bourn{.e} sid{.e};
And as I lay and leon{.e}de and lok{.e}de on the watr{.e}s,
I slumbr{.e}de in a slepynge, hit swy{.e}d so muri{.e}.
Thenne gon I meeten a mervelous sweven,
That I was in a wilderness{.e}, wuste I never wher{.e};
And as I beheold into the est an heigh to the sonn{.e},
I sauh a tour on a toft, try{.e}lyche i-maket;
A deop dal{.e} bineoth{.e}, a dungun ther-inn{.e},
With deop dich and derk and dredful of sight{.e}.
A feir feld full of folk fond I ther bitwen{.e},
Of all{.e} maner of men, the mene and the rich{.e},
Worchinge and wandringe as the world asketh.

Summ{.e} putten hem to the plough, pleiden ful selden{.e},
In settynge and in sowyng{.e} swonken ful hard{.e},
And wonnen that theos wasturs with glotonye distruen.
And summ{.e} putten hem to pruid{.e}, apparaylden hem ther-after,
In cuntenaunce of clothing{.e} comen disgisid.
To preyer{.e}s and to penaunc{.e} putten hem mony{.e},
For love of ur Lord liv{.e}den ful streit{.e},
In hop{.e} for to hav{.e} hevene-rich{.e} bliss{.e};
As ancr{.e}s and hermyt{.e}s that holdeth hem in heor{.e} cell{.e}s,
Coveyt{.e} not in cuntré to cairen about{.e},
For non likerous lyflod{.e} heor{.e} licam to ples{.e}.
And summ{.e} chosen chaffar{.e} to cheeven the bettr{.e},
As hit semeth to ur{.e} sight{.e} that such{.e} men thryveth;
And summ{.e}, murthh{.e}s to maken as munstrals cunn{.e},
And get{.e} gold with her{.e} gle, giltles, I trow{.e}.
Bote japers and jangelers, Judas children,
Founden hem fantasy{.e}s and fool{.e}s hem maaden,
And habbeth wit at heor{.e} will{.e} to worchen yif hem lust{.e}.
That Poul precheth of hem, I dar not preoven heer{.e};
Qui loquitur turpiloquium he is Lucifer{.e}s hyn{.e}.
Bidders and beggers faste aboute eoden,
Til heor bagg{.e}s and heore balies weren bretful i-crommet;
Feyneden hem for heor{.e} food{.e}, foughten att{.e} al{.e};
In glotony{.e}, God wot, gon heo to bedd{.e},
And ryseth up with ribaudy{.e} this roberd{.e}s knav{.e}s;
Sleep and sleughth{.e} suweth hem ever{.e}.

Pilgrimes and palmers plihten hem togeder{.e}s
For to sech{.e} Seint Jam{.e} and seint{.e}s at Room{.e};
Wenten forth in heor{.e} wey with mony wys{.e} tal{.e}s,
And hedden lev{.e} to lyen al heor{.e} lyf aftir.
Ermyt{.e}s on an hep with hokid{.e} stav{.e}s,
Wenten to Walsyngham and her{.e} wenchis after;
Gret{.e} lobr{.e}s and long{.e} that loth weor{.e} to swynk{.e}
Clotheden hem in cop{.e}s to beo knowen for bretheren;
And summ{.e} schopen hem to hermyt{.e}s heore es{.e} to hav{.e}.

I fond there frer{.e}s, all the foure ordr{.e}s,
Prechinge the pepl{.e} for profyt of heor{.e} womb{.e}s,
Glosynge the Gospel as hem good liketh,
For covetyse of cop{.e}s construeth hit ill{.e};
For monye of this maistr{.e}s mowen clothen hem at lyking,
For moneye and heor{.e} marchaundi{.e} meeten togeder{.e};
Sethth{.e} Charité hath be chapmon, and cheef to schriven lord{.e}s,
Mony ferly{.e}s han bifall{.e} in a few{.e} yer{.e}s.
But Holychirche and heo hold{.e} bet togeder{.e},
The most{.e} mischeef on mold{.e} is mountyng up fast{.e}.

Ther prechede a pardoner, as he a prest wer{.e},
And brought forth a bull{.e} with bisschop{.e}s sel{.e}s,
And seid{.e} that himself might{.e} asoylen hem all{.e}
Of falsnesse and fastinge and of vouw{.e}s i-broken.
The lewed{.e} men levide him wel and lik{.e}de his spech{.e},
And comen up knelyng{.e} to kissen his bull{.e};
He bonch{.e}de hem with his brevet and bler{.e}d heore eiyen,
And raught{.e} with his rag{.e}mon ring{.e}s and broch{.e}s.
Thus ye yiveth our{.e} gold glotonis to helpen!
And leveth hit to losels that lecherie haunten.
Weor{.e} the bisschop i-blesset and worth bothe his er{.e}s,
His sel shulde not be sent to deceyv{.e} the pepl{.e}.
It is not al bi the bisschop that the boy{.e} precheth,
Bote the parisch prest and the pardoner part{.e} the selver
That the por{.e} peple of the parisch schulde have yif that heo ne weor{.e},
Person{.e}s and parisch prest{.e}s playneth to heor{.e} bisschops,
That heor{.e} parisch hath ben por{.e} sethth{.e} the pestilenc{.e} tym{.e},
To have a lycence and lev{.e} at Londun to dwell{.e},
To sing{.e} ther for simony{.e}, for selver is swet{.e}.

Ther hovide an hundret in houv{.e}s of selk{.e},
Serjauns hit semid{.e} to serven att{.e} barr{.e};
Pleden for pens and pound{.e}s the law{.e},
Not for love of ur Lord unloseth heor{.e} lipp{.e}s on{.e}s,
Thou mightest beter meten the myst on Malvern{.e} hull{.e}s
Then geten a mom of heor{.e} mouth til moneye weor{.e} schew{.e}d!

I saugh ther bisschops bold{.e} and bachilers of divyn{.e}
Bicoom{.e} clerk{.e}s of acount{.e} the king for to serven.
Erchedeken{.e}s and denis, that dignité haven
To prech{.e} the pepl{.e} and por{.e} men to feed{.e},
Beon lopen to Londun, bi leve of heor{.e} bisschop{.e}s,
To ben clerk{.e}s of the Kyng{.e}s Bench{.e} the cuntré to schend{.e}

Barouns and burgeis and bond{.e}-men also
I saugh in that semblé, as ye schul heren aftur,
Bakers, bochers, and breusters mony{.e},
Wollen{.e}-websteris, and weveris of lynen,
Taillours, tanneris, and tokkeris both{.e},
Masons, minours, and mony other craft{.e}s,
Dykers, and delvers, that don heor{.e} ded{.e}s ill{.e},
And driveth forth the long{.e} day with "Deu vous sav{.e}, Dam Emm{.e}!"
Cook{.e}s and heor{.e} knav{.e}s cryen "Hot{.e} pi{.e}s, hot{.e}!
"Good{.e} gees and grys! Go we dyn{.e}, go we!"
Taverners to hem told{.e} the sam{.e} tal{.e},
With wyn of Osey{.e} and win of Gaskoyn{.e},
Of the Ryn and of the Rochel, the rost to defy{.e},
Al this I saugh slepynge and sev{.e} sith{.e}s mor{.e}.

'I am Spes, a spie,' quod he, 'and spire after a knyght
That took me a maundement upon the mount of Synay
To rule alle reames therewith - l bere the writ here.'
'Is it asseled?' I seide. 'May men see thi lettres?'
'Nay.' he seide. 'I seke hym that hath the seel to kepe -
And that is cros and Cristendom, and Crist theron to honge.
And whan it is asseled so, I woot wel the sothe -
That Luciferis lordshipe laste shal no lenger!'
' Lat se thi lettres,' quod I, 'we myghte the lawe knowe.'
He plukkede forth a patente, a pece of an hard roche,
Whereon was writen two wordes on this wise yglosed;

Dilige Deum et proximum tuum -
This was the tixte trewely - I took ful good yeme.
The glose was gloriously writen with a gilt penne
In hiis duobus mandatis tota lex penhet et prophete.
' Is here alle thi lordes lawes?' quod I. ' Ye, leve me,' he seide.
'And whoso wet cheth after this writ, I wol undertaken,
Shal nevere devel hym dere, ne deeth in soule greve.
For though I seye it myself, I have saved with this charme
Of men and of wommen many score thousand.'
' He seith sooth,' seide this heraud, ' I have yfounde it ofte.
Lo! here in my lappe that leeved on that charme -
Josue and Judith and Judas Macabeus,
Ye, and sixti thousand biside forth that ben noght seyen here!'
' Youre wordes arn wonderfulle,' quod I tho. ' Which of yow is trewest,
And lelest to leve on for lif and for soule?
Abraham seith that he seigh hoolly the Trinite,
Thre persones in parcelles departable fro oother,
And alle thre but o God - thus Abraham me taughte -
And hath saved that bileved so and sory for hir synnes,
He kan noght siggen the somme, and some arn in his lappe.
What neded it thanne a newe lawe to brynge,
Sith the firste suffiseth to savacion and to blisse?
And now cometh Spes and speketh, that hath aspied the lawe,
And telleth noght of the Trinite that took hym hise lettres -
To bileeve and lovye in o Lord almyghty,
And siththe right as myself so lovye alle peple.
'The gorne thit gooth with o staf - he semeth in gretter heele
Than he that gooth with two staves, to sighte of us alle.
And right so, bi the roode, reson me sheweth
It is lighter to lewed men o lesson to knowe
Than for to techen hem two, and to hard to lerne the leeste!
It is ful hard for any man on Abraham bileve,

And wel awey worse yit for to love a sherewe.
In pace in is lighter to leeve in thre lovely persones
Than for to lovye and lene as wel lorels as lele.
Go thi gate, 'quod I to Spes; 'so me God helpe,
Tho that lernen thi lawe wol litel while usen it!'
And as we wenten thus in the wey, wordynge togideres,
Thanne seighe we a Samaritan sittynge on a mule,
Ridynge ful rapely the righte wey we yeden,
Comynge from a contree that men called Jerico -
To a justes in Jerusalem he [j]aced awey faste.
Bothe the heraud and Hope and he mette atones
Where a man was, wounded, and with theves taken.
He myghte neither steppe ne stande, ne stere foot ne handes,
Ne helpe hymself soothly, for semyvif he semed,
And as naked as a nedle, and noon help abouten.
Feith hadde first sighte of hym, ac he fleigh aside,
And nolde noght neghen hym by nyne londes lengthe.
Hope cam hippynge after, that hadde so ybosted
How he with Moyses maundement hadde many men yholpe;
Ac whan he hadde sighte of that segge, aside he gan hym drawe
Dredfully, bi this day, as doke dooth fram the faucon!
Ac so soone so the Samaritan hadde sighte of this leode,
He lighte adown of lyard and ladde hym in his handes,
And to the wye he wente hise woundes to biholde,
And parceyved by his pous he was in peril to dye,
And but he hadde recoverer the rather, that rise sholde he nevere;
And breide to hise boteles, and bothe he atamede.
With wyn and with oille hise woundes he wasshed,
Enbawmed hym and bond his heed, and in his lappe hym leide,
And ladde hym so forth on lyard to Lex Christi, a graunge
Wel sixe mile or sevene biside the newe market;
Herberwed hym at an hostrie and to the hostiler called,

And [quod], ' Have, kepe this man, til I come fro the justes,
And lo here silver,' he seide, 'for salve to hise woundes.'
And he took hym two pens to liflode as it weere,
And seide, 'What he [moore spendeth] I make thee good herafter,
For I may noght lette,' quod that leode - and lyard he bistrideth,
And raped hym to Jerusalemward the righte wey to ryde.
Feith folwede after faste, and fondede to mete hym,
And Spes spakliche hym spedde, spede if he myghte
To overtaken hym and talke to hym er thei to towne coome.
And whan I seigh this, I sojourned noght. but shoop me to renne,
And suwed that Samaritan that was so ful of pite,
And graunted hym to ben his groom. 'Graunt mercy,' he seide,
'Ac thi frend and thi felawe,' quod he, 'thow fyndest me at nede.'
And I thanked hym tho and siththe I hym tolde
How that Feith fleigh awey and Spes his felawe bothe
For sighte of the sorweful [segge] that robbed was with theves.
' Have hem excused,' quod he, 'hir help may litel availle
May no medicyne under molde the man to heele brynge -
Neither Feith ne fyn Hope, so festred be hise woundes,
Withouten the blood of a barn born of a mayde.
And be he bathed in that blood, baptised as it were,
And thanne plastred with penaunce and passion of that baby,
He sholde stonde and steppe - ac stalworthe worth he nevere
Til he have eten al the barn and his blood ydronke.
For wente nevere wye in this world thorugh that wildernesse
That he ne was robbed or rifled, rood he there or yede,
Save Feith and [myselve and] Spes [his felawe],
And thiself now and swiche as suwen oure werkes.
' For Outlawe is in the wode and under bank lotieth,
And may ech man see and good mark take
Who is bihynde and who bifore and who ben on horse -

For he halt hym hardier on horse than he that is a foote.
For he seigh me that am Samaritan suwen Feith and his felawe
On my capul that highte Caro - of mankynde I took it -
He was unhardy, that harlot, and hidde hym in Inferno.
Ac er this day thre daies, I dar undertaken
That he worth fettred, that feloun, faste with cheynes,
And nevere eft greve gome that gooth this ilke gate
O Mors ero mors tua .
'And thanne shal Feith be forster here and in this fryth walke,
And kennen out comune men that knowen noght the contree,
Which is the wey I wente, and wher forth to Jerusalem;
And Hope the hostilers man shal be ther [an helyng the man lith],
And alle that feble and feynte be, that Feith may noght teche,
Hope shal lede hem forth with love, as his lettre telleth,
And hostele hem and heele thorugh Holy Chirche bileve
Til I have salve for alle sike - and thanne shal I returne,
And come ayein bi this contree and conforten alle sike
That craveth it or coveiteth it and crieth therafter.
For the barn was born in Bethleem that with his blood shal save
Alle that lyven in Feith and folwen his felawes techynge.'
'A, swete sire!' I seide tho, 'wher I shal bileve -
As Feith and his felawe enformed me bothe -
In thre persones departable that perpetuele were evere,
And alle thre but o God? Thus Abraham me taughte;
And Hope afterward he bad me to lovye
O God with al my good, and alle gomes after,
Lovye hem lik myselve - ac Oure Lord aboven alle.'
'After Abraham,' quod he, 'tat heraud of armes,
Sette faste thi feith and ferme bileve;
And as Hope highte thee, I hote that thow lovye
Thyn evenecristene everemoore eveneforth with thiselve.

And if conscience carpe therayein, or kynde wit eyther,
Or eretikes with arguments - thyn hond thow hem shewe
For God is after an hand - yheer now and knowe it.
'The Fader was first as a fust with o fynger foldynge,
Til hym lovede and liste to unlosen his fynger
And profrede it forth as with a pawme to what place it sholde.
The pawme is purely the hand, and profreth forth the fyngres,
To ministren and to make that myght of hand knoweth;
And bitokneth trewely, telle whoso liketh,
The Holy Goost of hevene - he is as the pawme.
The fyngres that fre ben to folde and to serve
Bitoknen soothly the Sone, that sent was til erthe,
That touched and tastede at techynge of the pawme
Seinte Marie, a mayde, and mankynde laughte
Qui conceptus est de spiritu sancto .
'The Fader is thanne as a fust with fynger to touche -
Quia ''Omnia traham ad me ipsum '' -
Al that the pawme parceyveth profitable to feele.
Thus are thei alle but oon, as it an hand weere,
And thre sondry sightes in oon shewynge.
The pawme for he put forth fyngres and the fust bothe,
Right so, redily, reson it shewith,
How he that is Holy Goost Sire and Sone preveth.
And as the hand halt harde and alle thyng faste
Thorugh foure fyngres and a thombe forth with the pawme,
Right so the Fader and the Sone and Seint Spirit the thridde
Halt al the wide world withinne hem thre -
Bothe wolkne and the wynd, water and erthe,
Hevene and helle and al that ther is inne.
Thus it is - nedeth no man to trowe noon oother -
That thre thynges bilongeth in Oure Lord of hevene,
And aren serelepes by hemself, asondry were thei nevere,

Namoore than may an hande meve withoute fyngres.
'And as my fust is ful hand yfolden togideres,
So is the Fader a ful God, formour and shappere - -
Tu fabricator omnium -
And al the myght myd hym is in makynge of thynges.
'The fyngres formen a ful hand to portreye or peynten;
Kervynge and compasynge is craft of the fyngres.
Right so is the Sone the science of the Fader
And ful God as is the Fader, no febler ne no bettre.
'The pawme is pureliche the hand, hath power by hymselve
Otherwise than the writhen fust, or werkmans ipe of fyngres;
For the pawme hath power to putte out the j ntes
And to unfolde the fust, for hym it bilongeth,
And receyve that the fyngres recheth and refuse bothe
Whan he feleth the fust and the fyngres wille.
'So is the Holy Goost God, neither gretter ne lasse
Than is the Sire or the Sone, and in the same myghte,
And alle are thei but o God, as is myn hand and my fyngres,
Unfolden or folden, my fust and my pawme -
Al is but an hand, howso I turne it.
'Ac who is hurte in the hand, evene in the myddes,
He may receyve right noght - reson it sheweth;
For the fyngres that folde sholde and the fust make,
For peyne of the pawme, power hem failleth
To clucche or to clawe, to clippe or to holde.
'Were the myddel of myn hand ymaymed or ypersshed,
I sholde receyve right noght of that I reche myghte;
Ac though rny thombe and my fynges bothe were toshullen

And the myddel of myn hand withoute male ese,
In many kynnes maneres I myghte myself helpe
Bothe meve and amende, though alle my fyngres oke.
'By this skile,' he seide, I se an evidence
That whoso synneth in the Seint Spirit, assoilled worth he nevere,
Neither here ne elliswhere, as I herde telle -
Qui peccat in Spiritum Sanctum -
For he priketh God as in the pawme, that peccat in Spiritu[m] Sanctu[m].
For God the Fader is as a fust; the Sone is as a fynger;
The Holy Goost of hevene is as it were the pawme.
So whoso synneth ayeyns the Seint Spirit, it semeth that he greveth
God that he grypeth with, and wolde his grace quenche.
'For to a torche or a tapur the Trinite is likned -
As wex and a weke were twyned togideres,
And thanne a fir flawmynge forth out of bothe.
And as wex and weke and warm fir togideres
Fostren forth a flawmbe and a fair leye
[That serveth thise swynkeres to se by anightes],
So dooth the Sire and the Sone and also Spiritus Sanctus
Fostren forth amonges folk love and bileve,
That alle kynne Cristene clenseth of synnes.
And as thow seest som tyme sodeynliche a torche -
The blase therof yblowe out, yet brenneth the weke -
Withouten leye or light, that [lowe] the macche brenneth;
So is the Holy Goost God, and grace withoute mercy
To alle unkynde creatures that coveite to destruye
Lele love or lif that Oure Lord shapte.
'And as glowynge gledes gladeth noght thise werkmen
That werchen and waken in wyntres nyghtes,
As dooth a kex or a candle that caught hath fir and blaseth,
Namoore dooth Sire ne Sone ne Seint Spirit togideres
Graunte no grace ne forgifnesse of synnes
Til the Holy Goost gynne to glowe and to blase;

So that the Holy Goost gloweth but as a glede
Til that lele love ligge on hym and blowe.
And thanne flawmeth he as fir on Fader and on Filius
And melteth hire myght into mercy - as men may se in wyntre
Ysekeles in evesynges thorugh hete of the sonne
Melte in a mynut while to myst and to watre.
'So grace of the Holy Goost the greet myght of the Trinite
Melteth to mercy - to merciable and to noon othere.
And as wex withouten moore on a warm glede
Wol brennen and blasen, be thei togideres,
And solacen hem that mowe [noght] se, that sitten in derknesse,
So wol the Fader foryyve folk of mylde hertes
That rufully repenten and restitucion make,
In as muche as thei mowen arnenden and paien;
And if it suffise noght for assetz, that in swich a wille deyeth,
Mercy for his mekenesse wol maken good the remenaunt.
And as the weke and fir wol maken a warm flaumbe
For to murthen men with that in merke sitten,
So wole Crist of his curteisie, and men crye hym mercy,
Bothe foryyve and foryete, and yit bidde for us
To the Fader of hevene foryifnesse to have.
'Ac hewe fir at a flynt foure hundred wynter -
But thow have tache to take it with, tonder or broches,
Al thi labour is lost and al thi long travaille;
For may no fir flaumbe make, faille it his kynde.
So is the Holy Goost God and grace withouten mercy
To alle unkynde creatures - Crist hymself witnesseth
Amen dico vobis, nescio vos .
'Be unkynde to thyn evenecristene, and al that thow kanst bidde -
Delen and do penaunce day and nyght evere,
And purchace al the pardon of Pampilon and Rome,
And indulgences ynowe, and be ingratus to thi kynde,
The Holy Goest hereth thee neght, ne help may thee by reson;

For unkyndenesse quencheth hym, that he kan noght shyne,
Ne brenne ne blase clere, for blowynge of unkyndenesse.
Poul the Apostel preveth wheither I lye
Si linguis hominum loquar .
' Forthi beth war, ye wise men that with the world deleth,
That riche ben and reson knoweth - ruleth wel youre soule;
Beth noght unkynde, I conseille yow, to youre evenecristene;
For manye of yow riche men, by my soule, men telleth,
Ye brenne, but ye blase noght, and that is a blynd bekene! -
Non omnis qui dicit Domine, Domine, intrabit .
' Dives deyde dampned for his unkyndenesse
Of his mete and his moneie to men that it nedede.
Ech a riche, I rede, reward at hym take,
And gyveth youre good to that God that grace of ariseth.
For that ben unkynde to hise. hope I noon oother
But thei dwelle ther Dives is dayes withouten ende.
'Thus is unkyndenesse the contrarie that quencheth, as it were,
The grace of the Holy Goost, Goddes owene kynde.
For that kynde dooth, unkynde fordooth - as thise corsede theves,
Unkynde Cristene men, for coveitise and envye
Sleeth a man for hise moebles, with mouth or with handes.
For that the Holy Goost hath to kepe, tho harlotes destruyeth -
The which is lif and love, the leye of mannes body.
For every manere good man may be likned to a torche,
Or ellis to a tapur, to reverence the Trinite;
And whoso morthereth a good man, me thynketh, by myn inwit,
He fordooth the levest light that Oure Lord lovyeth.
'Ac yet in manye mo maneres men offenden the Holy Geost;
Ac this is the worste wise that any wight myghte
Synnen ayein the Seint Spirit - assenten to destruye
For coveitise of any kynnes thyng that Crist deere boughte.

How myghte he aske mercy, or any mercy hym hel
That wikkedliche and wilfulliche wolde mercy aniente?
'Innocence is next God, and nyght and day it crieth
''Vengeaunce ! Vengeaunce! Foryyve be it nevere
That shente us and shedde oure blood - forshapte us, as it semed
Vindica sanguinem iustorum .''
Thus '' Vengeaunce, vengeaunce!'' verrey charite asketh;
And sith Holy Chirche and charite chargeth this so soore,
Leve I nevere that Oure Lord wol love that charite lakketh,
Ne have pite for any preiere [that he pleyneth ther].'
'I pose I hadde synned so, and sholde now deye,
And now am sory that I so the Seint Spirit agulte,
Confesse me and crye his grace, God that al made,
And myldeliche his mercy aske - myghte I noght be saved?'
'Yis,' seide the Samaritan, 'so thow myghte repente
That rightwisnesse thorugh repentaunce to ruthe myghte turne.
Ac it is but selden yseighe, ther soothnesse bereth witnesse,
Any creature be coupable afore a kynges justice,
Be raunsoned for his repentaunce ther alle reson hym dampneth.
For ther that partie pursueth the peel is so huge
That the kyng may do no mercy til bothe men acorde
And eyther have equite, as holy writ telleth
Numquam dimittitur peccatum .
Thus it fareth by swich folk that falsly al hire lyves
Yvele lyven and leten noght til lif hem forsake.
Drede of desperacion thanne dryveth awey grace,
That mercy in hir mynde may noght thanne falle;
Good hope, that helpe sholde, to wanhope torneth -

Noght of the nounpower of God, that he ne is myghtful
To amende al that amys is, and his mercy gretter
Thanne alle our wikkede werkes, as Holy Writ telleth -
Misericordia eius super omnia opera eius -
Ac er his rightwisnesse to ruthe torne, som restitucion bihoveth
His sorwe is satisfaccion for [swich] that may noght paie.
'Thre thynges ther ben that doon a man by strengthe
For to fleen his owene hous, as Holy Writ sheweth.
That oon is a wikkede wif that wol noght be chastised
Hir feere fleeth hire for feere of hir tonge.
And if his hous be unhiled, and reyne on his bedde,
He seketh and seketh til he slepe drye.
And whan smoke and smolder smyt in his sighte,
It dooth hym worse than his wif or wete to slepe.
For smoke and smolder smerteth hise eighen
Til he be bler eighed or blynde and [the borre] in the throte,
Cogheth and curseth that Crist gyve hym sorwe
That sholde brynge in bettre wode, or blowe it til it brende!
'Thise thre that I telle of thus ben to understonde
The wif is oure wikked flessh that wol noght be chastised,
For kynde clyveth on hym evere to contrarie the soule.
And though it falle, it fynt skiles, that '' Frelete it made,''
And ''That is lightly foryyven and foryeten bothe
To man that mercy asketh and amende thenketh.''
'The reyn that reyneth ther we reste sholde
Ben siknesses and sorwes that we suffren oughte,
As Poul the Apostle to the peple taughte
Virtus in infirmitate perficitur.
And though that men make muche doel in hir angre,
And ben inpacient in hir penaunce, pure reson knoweth
That thei han cause to contrarie, by kynde of hir siknesse;

And lightliche Oure Lord at hir lyves ende
Hath mercy on swiche men, that so yvele may suffre.
'Ac the smoke and the smolder that smyt in oure eighen,
That is coveitise and unkyndenesse, that quencheth Goddes mercy.
For unkyndenesse is the contrarie of alle kynnes reson;
For ther nys sik ne sory, ne noon so muche wrecche
That he ne may lovye, and hym like, and lene of his herte
Good wille, good word - bothe wisshen and wilnen
Alle manere men mercy and foryifnesse,
And lovye hem lik hymself, and his lif amende.
'I may no lenger lette!' quod he, and lyard he prikede,
And wente awey as wynd - and therwith I awakede.

'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.

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.

Wolleward and weetshoed wente I forth after
As a recchelees renk that [reccheth of no wo],
And yede forth lik a lorel al my lif tyme,
Til I weex wery of the world and wilned eft to slepe,
And lened me to a Lenten - and longe tyme I slepte;
Reste me there and rutte faste til ramis palmarum.
Of gerlis and of Gloria, laus gretly me dremed
And how osanna by organye olde folk songen,

And of Cristes passion and penaunce, the peple that ofraughte.
Oon semblable to the Samaritan, and somdeel to Piers the Plowman,
Barefoot on an asse bak bootles cam prikye,
Withouten spores other spere; spakliche he loked,
As is the kynde of a knyght that cometh to be dubbed,
To geten hym gilte spores on galoches ycouped.
Thanne was Feith in a fenestre, and cryde 'At Fili David!'
As dooth an heraud of armes whan aventrous cometh to iustes.
Olde Jewes of Jerusalem for joye thei songen,
Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.
Thanne I frayned at Feith what al that fare bymente,
And who sholde juste in Jerusalem. 'jesus,' he seide,
'And fecche that the fend claymeth - Piers fruyt the Plowman.'
'Is Piers in this place?' quod I, and he preynte on me.
'This Jesus of his gentries wol juste in Piers armes,
In his helm and in his haubergeon - humana natura.
That Crist be noght biknowe here for consummatus Deus,
In Piers paltok the Plowman this prikiere shal ryde;
For no dynt shal hym dere as in deitate Patris.'
'Who shal juste with Jesus?' quod I, 'Jewes or scrybes?'
'Nay,' quod Feith, 'but the fend and fals doom to deye.
Deeth seith he shal fordo and adoun brynge
Al that lyveth or loketh in londe or in watre.
Lif seith that he lieth, and leieth his lif to wedde
That, for al that Deeth kan do, withinne thre daies to walke
And fecche fro the fend Piers fruyt the Plowman,
And legge it ther hym liketh, and Lucifer bynde,

And forbete and adoun brynge bale-deeth for evere
O Mors ero mors tua!'
Thanne cam Pilatus with muche peple, sedens pro tribunali,
To se how doghtiliche Deeth sholde do, and deme hir botheres right.
The Jewes and the justieeayeins Jesu thei weere,
And al the court on hym cryde ' Crucifige!' sharpe.
Tho putte hym forth a p[e]lour bifore Pilat and seide,
'This Jesus of oure Jewes temple japed and despised,
To fordoon it on o day, and in thre dayes after
Edifie it eft newe - here he stant that seide it -
And yit maken it as muche in alle manere poyntes
Bothe as long and as large a lofte and by grounde.'
' Crucifige!' quod a cachepol, ' I warante hym a wicche!'
' Tolle, tolle!' quod another, and took of kene thornes,
And bigan of [gr]ene thorn a garland to make,
And sette it sore on his heed and seide in envye,
'A ve, rabyt' quod that ribaud - and threw reedes at hym,
Nailed hym with thre nailes naked on the roode,
And poison on a poole thei putte up to hise lippes,
And beden hym drynken his deeth-yvel - hise dayes were ydone -
And [seiden], ' If that thow sotil be, help now thiselve;
If thow be Crist and kynges sone, com down of the roode;
Thanne shul we leve that lif thee loveth and wol noght lete thee deye!'
' Consummatum est,' quod Crist, and comsede for to swoune,
Pitousliche and pale as a prison that deieth;
The lord of lif and of light tho leide hise eighen togideres.
The day for drede withdrough and derk bicam the sonne.
The wal waggede and cleef, and al the world quaved.
Dede men for that dene come out of depe graves,
And tolde why that tempeste so longe tyme durede.
'For a bitter bataille,' the dede body seide;
'Lif and Deeth in this derknesse, hir oon fordeoth hir oother.
Shal no wight wite witterly who shal have the maistrie
Er Sonday aboute sonne risyng' - and sank with that til erthe.

Some seide that he was Goddes sone, that so faire deyde
Vere filius Dei erat iste.
And some seide he was a wicche - 'Good is that we assaye
Wher he be deed or noght deed, doun er he be taken.'
Two theves also tholed deeth that tyme
Upon a croos bisides Crist - so was the comune lawe.
A cachepol cam forth and craked bothe hir legges,
And hir armes after of either of tho theves.
Ac was no boy so boold Goddes body to touche;
For he was knyght and kynges sone, Kynde foryaf that throwe
That noon harlot were so hardy to leyen hond upon hym.
Ac ther cam forth a knyght with a kene spere ygrounde,
Highte Longeus, as the lettre telleth, and longe hadde lore his sight.
Bifore Pilat and oother peple in the place he hoved.
Maugree his manye teeth he was maad that tyme
To [justen with Jesus, this blynde Jew Longeus].
For alle thei were unhardy, that hoved on horse or stode,
To touchen hym or to tasten hym or taken hym doun of roode,
But this blynde bacheler, that baar hym thorugh the herte.
The blood sprong doun by the spere and unspered the knyghtes eighen.
Thanne fil the knyght upon knees and cryde Jesu mercy
'Ayein my wille it was, Lord, to wownde yow so soore!'
He sighed and seide, ' Soore it me athynketh!
For the dede that I have doon I do me in youre grace.
Have on me ruthe, rightful Jesu!' - and right with that he wepte.
Thanne gan Feith felly the false Jewes despise -
Callede hem caytyves acorsed for evere
' For this foule vileynye vengeaunce to yow falle!
To do the blynde bete hym ybounde, it was a boyes counseille.
Cursede caytyves! Knyghthood was it nevere

To mysdo a deed body by daye or by nyghte.
The gree yit hath he geten, for al his grete wounde.
' For youre champion chivaler, chief knyght of yow alle,
Yilt hym recreaunt rennyng, right at Jesus wilk.
For be this derknesse ydo, Deeth worth yvenquisshed;
And ye, lurdaynes, han ylost - for Lif shal have the maistrye.
And youre fraunchyse, that fre was, fallen is in thraldom,
And ye, cherles, and youre children, cheve shulle ye nevere,
Ne have lordshipe in londe, ne no lond tilye,
But al barayne be and usurie usen,
Which is lif that Oure Lord in alle lawes acurseth.
Now youre goode dayes arn doon, as Daniel prophecied
Whan Crist cam hir kyngdom the crowne sholde lese -
Cum veniat sanctus sanctorum cessabit unxio vestra.'
What for feere of this ferly and of the false Jewes,
I drow me in that derknesse to descendit ad inferna,
And there I saugh soothly, secundum scripturas,
Out of the west coste, a wenche, as me thoughte,
Cam walkynge in the wey; to helleward she loked.
Mercy highte that mayde, a meke thyng with alle,
A ful benigne burde, and buxom of speche.
Hir suster, as it semed, cam softely walkynge
Evene out of the est, and westward she lokede -
A ful comely creature [and a clene], Truthe she highte;
For the vertue that hire folwede, afered was she nevere.
Whan thise maydenes mette, Mercy and Truthe,
Either asked oother of this grete wonder -
Of the dyn and of the derknesse, and how the day rowed,
And which a light and a leme lay bifore helle.
'Ich have ferly of this fare, in feith,' seide Truthe,
'And am wendynge to wite what this wonder meneth.'
'Have no merveille', quod Mercy, 'murhte it bitokneth.

A maiden that highte Marie, and moder withouten felyng
Of any kynde creature, conceyved thorugh speche
And grace of the Holy Goost; weex greet with childe;
Withouten wem into this world she broghte hym;
And that my tale be trewe, I take God to witnesse.
'Sith this barn was ybore ben thritti wynter passed,
Which deide and deeth tholed this day aboute mydday -
And that is cause of this clips that closeth now the sonne,
In menynge that man shal fro merknesse be drawe
The while this light and this leme shal Lucifer ablende.
For patriarkes and prophetes han preched herof often -
That man shal man save thorugh a maydenes helpe,
And that was tynt thorugh tree, tree shal it wynne,
And that Deeth down broughte, deeth shal releve.'
'That thow tellest; quod Truthe, 'is but a tale of waltrot!
For Adam and Eve and Abraham with othere
Patriarkes and prophetes that in peyne liggen,
Leve thow nevere that yon light hem alofte brynge,
Ne have hem out of helle - hold thi tonge, Mercy!
It is but trufle that thow tellest - I, Truthe, woot the sothe.
For that is ones in helle, out cometh it nevere;
Job the prophete patriark repreveth thi sawes
Quia in inferno nulla est redempcio.'
Thanne Mercy ful myldely mouthed thise wordes
'Thorugh experience,' quod he[o], ' I hope thei shul be saved.
For venym fordooth venym - and that I preve by reson.
For of alle venymes foulest is the scorpion;
May no medicyne [am]e[nd]e the place ther he styngeth,
Til he be deed and do therto - the yvel he destruyeth,
The firste venymouste, thorugh vertu of hymselve.
So shal this deeth fordo - I dar my lif legge -
Al that deeth dide first thorugh the develes entisyng;
And right as thorugh [gilours] gil;e [bigiled was man],
So shal grace that al bigan make a good ende

[And bigile the gilour - and that is good] sleighte
Ars ut artem falleret.'
'Now suffre we!' seide Truthe, ' I se, as me thynketh,
Out of the nyppe of the north, noght ful fer hennes,
Rightwisnesse corne rennynge; reste we the while,
For he[o] woot moore than we - he[o] was er we bothe.'
'That is sooth,' seide Mercy, 'and I se here by sowthe
Where cometh Pees pleyinge, in pacience yclothed.
Love hath coveited hire longe - leve I noon oother
But [Love] sente hire som lettre, what this light bymeneth
That overhoveth helle thus; she us shal telle.'
Whan Pees in pacience yclothed approched ner hem tweyne,
Rightwisnesse hire reverenced for hir riche clothyng,
And preide Pees to telle hire to whit place she wolde
And in hire gaye garnements whom she grete thoughte?
'My wil is to wende,' quod she, 'and welcome hem alle
That many day myghte I noght se for merknesse of synne -
Adam and Eve and othere mo in helle,
Moyses and many mo; Mercy shul [synge],
And I shal daunce therto - do thow so, suster!
For Jesus justede wel, joye bigynneth dawe
Ad vesperum demorabitur fletus, et ad matutinum leticia.
' Love, that is my lemman, swiche lettres me sente
That Mercy, my suster, and I mankynde sholde save,
And that God hath forgyven and graunted me, Pees, and Mercy
To be mannes meynpernour for everemoore after.
Lo, here the patente!' quod Pees, 'In pace in idipsum,
And that this dede shal dure, dormiam et requiescam.'
'What, ravestow?' quod Rightwisnesse; 'or thow art righty dronke!

Levestow that yond light unlouke myghte helle
And save mannes soule? Suster, wene it nevere!
At the bigynnyng God gaf the doom hymselve -
That Adam and Eve and alle that hem suwede
Sholden deye downrighte, and dwelle in peyne after
If that thei touchede a tree and of the fruyt eten.
Adam afterward, ayeins his defence,
Freet of that fruyt, and forsook, as it were,
The love of Oure Lord and his loore bothe
And folwede that the fend taughte and his felawes wille
Ayeins reson - I, Rightwisnesse, recorde thus with Truthe
That hir peyne be perpetuel and no preiere hem helpe.
Forthi lat hem chewe as thei chosen, and chide we noght, sustres,
For it is botelees bale, the byte that thei eten.'
'And I shal preie,' quod Pees, 'hir peyne moot have ende,
And wo into wele mowe wenden at the laste.
For hadde thei wist of no wo, wele hadde thei noght knowen;
For no wight woot what wele is, that nevere wo suffrede,
Ne what is hoot hunger, that hadde nevere defaute.
If no nyght ne weere, no man, as I leve,
Sholde wite witterly what day is to meene.
Sholde nevere right riche man that lyveth in reste and ese
Wite what wo is, ne were the deeth of kynde.
So God that bigan al of his goode wille
Bicam man of a mayde mankynde to save,
And suffrede to be sold, to se the sorwe of deying,
The which unknytteth alle care, and comsynge is of reste.
For til modicum mete with us, I may it wel avowe,
Woot no wight, as I wene, what is ynogh to mene.
' Forthi God, of his goodnesse, the firste gome Adam,
Sette hym in solace and in sovereyn murthe;
And siththe he suffred hym synne, sorwe to feele -
To wite what wele was, kyndeliche to knowe it.
And after, God auntrede hymself and took Adames kynde
To wite what he hath suffred in thre sondry places,

Bothe in hevene and in erthe - and now til helle he thenketh,
To wite what alle wo is, that woot of alle joye.
'So it shal fare by this folkhir folie and hir synne
Shal lere hem what langour is, and lisse withouten ende.
Woot no wight what werre is ther that pees regneth,
Ne what is witterly wele til ''weylawey'' hym teche.'
Thanne was ther a wight with two brode eighen;
Book highte that beaupeere, a bold man of speche.
'By Goddes body!' quod this Book, 'I wol bere witnesse
That tho this barn was ybore, ther blased a sterre
That alle the wise of this world in o wit acordeden -
That swich a barn was ybore in Bethleem the citee
That mannes soule sholde save and synne destroye.
'And alle the elements,' quod the Book, 'herof beren witnesse.
That he was God that al wroghte the wolkne first shewed
Tho that weren in hevene token stella comata
And tendeden hire as a torche to reverencen his burthe;
The light folwede the Lord into the lowe erthe.
The water witnesseth that he was God, for he wente on it;
Peter the Apostel parceyved his gate,
And as he wente on the water wel hym knew, and seide,
''tube me venire ad te super aquas.''
And lo! how the sonne gan louke hire light in hirselve
Whan she seigh hym suffre, that sonne and see made.
The erthe for hevynesse that he wolde suffre
Quaked as quyk thyng and al biquasshed the roche.
'Lo! helle myghte nat holde, but opnede tho God tholede,
And leet out Symondes sones to seen hym hange on roode.
And now shal Lucifer leve it, though hyrn looth thynke.
For Gigas the geaunt with a gyn engyned
To breke and to bete adoun that ben ayeins Jesus.
And I, Book, wole be brent, but Jesus rise to lyve
In alle myghtes of man, and his moder gladie,

And conforte al his kyn and out of care brynge,
And al the Jewene joye unjoynen and unlouken;
And but thei reverencen his roode and his resurexion,
And bileve on a newe lawe, be lost, lif and soule!'
'Suffre we!' seide Truthe, 'I here and see bothe
A spirit speketh to helle and biddeth unspere the yates
''Attolite portas.''
A vois loude in that light to Lucifer crieth,
''Prynees of this place, unpynneth and unlouketh!
For here cometh with crowne that kyng is of glorie.''
Thanne sikede Sathan, and seide to helle,
'Swich a light, ayeins oure leve, Lazar it fette;
Care and combraunce is comen to us alle!
If this kyng come in, mankynde wole he fecche,
And lede it ther Lazar is, and lightliche me bynde.
Patriarkes and prophetes han parled herof longe -
That swich a lord and a light shal lede hem alle hennes.'
'Listneth!' quod Lucifer, 'for I this lord knowe;
Bothe this lord and this light, is longe ago I knew hym.
May no deeth this lord dere, ne no develes queyntise,
And where he wole, is his wey - ac ware hym of the perils!
If he reve me of my right, he robbeth me by maistrie;
For by right and by reson the renkes that ben here
Body and soule beth myne, bothe goode and ille.
For hymself seide, that sire is of hevene,
That if Adam ete the appul, alle sholde deye,
And dwelle [in deol] with us develes - this thretynge he made.
And [sithen] he that Soothnesse is seide thise wordes,
And I sithen iseised sevene [thousand] wynter,
I leeve that lawe nyl noght lete hym the leeste.'

'That is sooth,' seide Satan, 'but I me soore drede;
For thow gete hem with gile, and his gardyn breke,
And in semblaunce of a serpent sete on the appultre,
And eggedest hem to ete, Eve by hirselve,
And toldest hire a tale - of treson were the wordes;
And so thou haddest hem out and hider at the laste.
It is noght graithly geten, ther gile is the roote!'
' For God wol noght be bigiled,' quod Gobelyn, ' ne byjaped.
We have no trewe title to hem, for thorugh treson were thei dampned.'
' Certes, I drede me,' quod the Devel, 'lest Truthe wol hem fecche.
Thise thritty wynter, as I wene, he wente aboute and preched.
I have assailled hym with synne, and som tyme I asked
Wheither he were God or Goddes sone - he gaf me short answere;
And thus hath he trolled forth thise two and thritty wynter.
And whan I seigh it was so, slepynge I wente
To warne Pilates wif what done man was Jesus;
For Jewes hateden hym and han doon hym to dethe.
I wolde have lengthed his lif - for I leved, if he deide,
That his soule wolde suffre no synne in his sighte;
For the body, while it on bones yede, aboute was evere
To save men from synne if hemself wolde.
And now I se wher a soule cometh [silynge hiderward]
With glorie and with gret light - God it is, I woot wel!
I rede we fle,' quod he, 'faste alle hennes -
For us were bettre noght be than biden his sighte.
For thi lesynges, Lucifer, lost is al oure praye.
First thorugh the we fellen fro hevene so heighe;
For we leved thi lesynges, we lopen out alle with thee;
And now for thi laste lesynge, ylorn we have Adam,
And al oure lordshipe, I leve, a londe and a watre
Nunc Princeps huius mundi eicietur foras.'

Eft the light bad unlouke, and Lucifer answerde,
' Quis est iste ?
What lord artow?' quod Lucifer. The light soone seide,
Rex glorie,
The lord of myght and of mayn and alle manere vertues -
Dominus virtutum.
Dukes of this dymme place, anoon undo thise yates,
That Crist may come in, the Kynges sone of Hevene!'
And with that breeth helle brak, with Belialles barres -
For any wye or warde, wide open the yates.
Patriarkes and prophetes, populus in tenebris,
Songen Seint Johanes song, ' Ecce Agnus Dei.'
Lucifer loke ne myghte, so light hym ablente.
And tho that Oure Lord lovede, into his light he laughte,
And seide to Sathan, 'Lo! here my soule to amendes
For alle synfulle soules, to save tho that ben worthi.
Myne thei ben and of me - I may the bet hem cleyme.
Although reson recorde, and right of myselve,
That if thei ete the appul, alle sholde deye,
I bihighte hem noght here helle for evere.
For the dede that thei dide, thi deceite it made;
With gile thow hem gete, ageyn alle reson.
For in my paleis, Paradis, in persone of an addre,
Falsliche thow fettest there thyng that I lovede.
'Thus ylik a lusard with a lady visage,
Thefliche thow me robbedest; the Olde Lawe graunteth
That gilours be bigiled - and that is good reson
Dentem pro dente et oculum pro oculo.

Ergo soule shal soule quyte and synne to synne wende,
And al that man hath mysdo, I, man, wole amende it.
Membre for membre [was amendes by the Olde Lawe],
And lif for lif also - and by that lawe I clayme
Adam and al his issue at my wille herafter.
And that deeth in hem fordide, my deeth shal releve,
And bothe quyke and quyte that queynt was thorugh synne;
And that grace gile destruye, good feith it asketh.
So leve it noght, Lucifer, ayein the lawe I fecche hem,
But by right and by reson raunsone here my liges
Non veni solvere legem set adimplere.
'Thow fettest myne in my place ayeins alle reson -
Falsliche and felonliche; good feith me it taughte,
To recovere hem thorugh raunsoun, and by no reson ellis,
So that with gile thow gete, thorugh grace it is ywonne.
Thow, Lucifer, in liknesse of a luther addere
Getest bi gile tho that God lovede;
And I, in liknesse of a leode, that Lord am of hevene,
Graciousliche thi gile have quyt - go gile ayein gile!
And as Adam and alle thorugh a tree deyden,
Adam and alle thorugh a tree shal turne to lyve;
And gile is bigiled, and in his gile fallen
Et cecidit in foveam quam fecit.
Now bigynneth thi gile ageyn thee to turne
And my grace to growe ay gretter and widder.
The bitternesse that thow hast browe, now brouke it thiselve;
That art doctour of deeth, drynk that thow madest!
'For I that am lord of lif, love is my drynke,
And for that drynke today, I deide upon erthe.
I faught so, me thursteth yet, for mannes soule sake;
May no drynke me moiste, ne my thurst stake,

Til the vendage falle in the vale of Josaphat,
That I drynke right ripe must, resureccio mortuorum.
And thanne shal I come as a kyng, crouned, with aungeles,
And have out of helle alle mennes soules.
' Fendes and fendekynes bifore me shul stande
And be at my biddyng wheresoevere [be] me liketh.
Ac to be merciable to man thanne, my kynde it asketh,
For we beth bretheren of blood, but noght in baptisme alle.
Ac alle that beth myne hole bretheren, in blood and in baptisme,
Shul noght be dampned to the deeth that is withouten ende
Tibi soli peccavi .
'It is noght used on erthe to hangen a feloun
Ofter than ones, though he were a tretour.
And if the kyng of that kyngdom corne in that tyme
There the feloun thole sholde deeth oother juwise,
Lawe wolde he yeve hym lif, and he loked on hym.
And I that am kyng of kynges shal come swich a tyme
There doom to the deeth dampneth alle wikked;
And if lawe wole I loke on hem, it lith in my grace
Wheither thei deye or deye noght for that thei diden ille.
Be it any thyng abought, the boldnesse of hir synnes,
I may do mercy thorugh rightwisnesse, and alle my wordes trewe.
And though Holy Writ wole that I be wroke of hem that diden ille -
Nullum malum impunitum -
Thei shul be clensed clerliche and [clene] wasshen of hir synnes
In my prisone Purgatorie, til parce it hote.
And my mercy shal be shewed to manye of my bretheren;

For blood may suffre blood bothe hungry and acale,
Ac blood may noght se blood blede, but hym rewe.'
Audivi archana verba que non licet homini loqui.
'Ac my rightwisnesse and right shal rulen al helle,
And mercy al mankynde bifore me in hevene.
For I were an unkynde kyng but I my kyn helpe - -
And nameliche at swich a nede ther nedes help bihoveth
Non intres in iudicium cum servo tuo.
'Thus by lawe,' quod Oure Lord, 'lede I wole fro hennes
Tho [leodes] that I lov[e] and leved in my comynge.
And for thi lesynge, Lucifer, that thow leighe til Eve,
Thow shalt abyen it bittre!' - and bond hym with cheynes.
As troth and al the route hidden hem in hernes;
They dorste noght loke on Oure Lord, the [lothli]este of hem alle,
But leten hym lede forth what hym liked and lete what hym liste.
Manye hundred of aungeles harpeden and songen,
' Culpat caro, purgat caro, regnat Deus Dei caro.'
Thanne pipede Pees of poesie a note
' Clarior est solito post maxima nebula phebus;
Post inimicicias clarior est et amor.
' After sharpest shoures,' quod Pees, ' moost shene is the sonne;
Is no weder warmer than after watry cloudes;
Ne no love levere; ne lever frendes
Than after werre and wo, whan love and pees ben maistres.
Was nevere werre in this world, ne wikkednesse so kene,
'That Love, and hym liste, to laughyng ne broughte,
And Pees, thorugh pacience, alle perils stoppede.'

' Trewes!' quod Truthe; ' thow tellest us sooth, by Jesus!
Clippe we in covenaunt, and ech of us kisse oother.'
'And lete no peple,' quod Pees, 'parceyve that we chidde;
For inpossible is no thyng to Hym that is almyghty.'
'Thow seist sooth,' seide Rightwisnesse, and reverentliche hire kiste,
Pees, and Pees h[i]re, per secula seculorum.
Misericordia et Veritas obviaverunt sibi, justicia et Pax osculate sunt.
Truthe trumpede tho and song Te Deum laudamus,
And thanne lutede Love in a loud note,
' Ecce quam bonum et quam iocundum .'
Til the day dawed thise damyseles carolden,
That men rongen to the resurexion - and right with that I wakede,
And called Kytte my wif and Calote my doghter
'Ariseth and reverenceth Goddes resurexion,
And crepeth to the cros on knees, and kisseth it for a juwel!
For Goddes blik body it bar for eure body,
And it afereth the fend - for swich is the myghte,
May no grisly goost glide there it shadweth!'

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.

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.

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.'