V. THE PART IS DERIVED FROM THE WHOLE, THE IMPERFECT FROM THE PERFECT. (continued 5)

For as evil is nothing, it is clear that while the wicked can only do evil they can do nothing. ¶ For so as I haue gadered and proued a lytel her byforn þat yuel is nauȝt. and so as shrewes mowen oonly but shrewednesse. þis conclusioun is al clere. þat 3324 shrewes ne mowen ryȝt nat to han power. That you may understand the force of this power, I have proved that nothing is more powerful than the sovereign good. and for as moche as þou vndirstonde whiche is þe strengþe þat is power of shrewes. I haue diffinised a lytel here byforn þat no þing nis so myȝty as souereyne good B. That is true. ¶ þat is 3328 soþe quod .I. P. And that supreme good can do no evil? [and thilke same souereyn good may don non yuel // B. Certainly not. Certes no quod I] P. Is there any one who thinks that man can do all things? ¶ Is þer any wyȝt þan quod she þat weniþ þat men mowen don alle þinges. B. No sane man can think so. No man quod .I. but yif he be out of hys witte. P. But men may do evil. ¶ but 3332 certys sherewes mowen doñ yuel quod she. B. I would to God they could not. ¶ ȝe wolde god quod I þat þei ne myȝten don none. P. Since he that can do good, can do all things, and he that has power to do evil cannot do all things, therefore the evil-doers are less powerful. þat quod she so as he þat is myȝty to done oonly but good[e] þinges may don alle þinges. and þei þat ben myȝty to done 3336 yuel[e] þinges ne mowen nat alle þinges. þan is þis open þing and manifest þat þei þat mowen don yuel ben of lasse power. Let me add too that power is one of the things to be desired, and that all such things are to be referred to the chief good (the perfection of their nature). and ȝitte to proue þis conclusioun þere helpeþ me þis þat I haue shewed here byforne. þat al 3340 power is to be noumbred amonge þinges þat men auȝten requere. and haue shewed þat alle þinges þat auȝten ben desired ben referred to good ryȝt as to a manere heyȝte of hyr nature. But the power of doing evil has no relation to that Good, therefore it is not desirable; ¶ But for to mowen don yuel and 3344 felonye ne may nat ben referred to good. þan nis nat yuel of þe noumbre of þinges þat auȝten. [* fol. 26 b.] *be desired.

SEest þou nat See you not in how great and filthy a mire the wicked wallow? þan in how gret filþe þise shrewes ben ywrapped. and wiþ whiche cleernesse þise good folk shynen. This is a proof that good folks do not go unrewarded, nor do the evil-doers escape punishment. In þis sheweþ it wel þat to good folk ne 3380 lakkeþ neuer mo hir medes. ne shrewes ne lakken neuer mo tourmentis. Every action is done for a certain end, and that end is the reward of the action. for of alle þinges þat ben ydon þilke þing for whiche any þing is doon. it semeþ as by ryȝt þat þilke þing be þe mede of þat. as þus. ¶ yif a 3384 man renneþ in þe stadie or in þe forlonge for þe corone. þan lieþ þe mede in þe corone for whiche he renneþ. But Happiness is that good for which all things are done. Therefore happiness is the reward which all the human race seek as the reward of their actions. ¶ And I haue shewed þat blisfulnesse is þilke same good for whiche þat alle þingus ben don. þan is þilke 3388 same good purposed to þe werkes of mankynde ryȝt as a comune mede. This good is inseparable from the virtuous, therefore virtue can never want its reward. whiche mede ne may ben disseuered fro good folk. for no wyȝt as by ryȝt fro þennes forþe þat hym lakkiþ goodnesse ne shal ben cleped good. 3392 For whiche þing folk of good[e] maneres her medes ne forsaken hem neuer mo. Evil men may rage as they please against the good, but the crown of the wise shall not fall nor fade. For al be it so þat sherewes waxen as wood as hem list aȝeynes good[e] folk. ȝitte neuer þe les þe corone of wise men ne shal nat fallen 3396 ne faden. The wickedness of another cannot deprive a virtuous soul of its own honour. ¶ For foreine shrewednesse ne bynymeþ nat fro þe corages of good[e] folk hire propre honoure.

If a man pride himself on the possession of an advantage received from another, he may be deprived of it, either by the giver or by others. but yif þat any wyȝt reioiseþ hem of goodnesse þat þei had[de] taken fro wiþoute. as who seiþ yif [þat] any 3400 wyȝt had[de] hys goodnesse of any oþer man þan of hym self. certys he þat ȝaf hym þilke goodnesse or ellys som oþer wyȝt myȝt[e] bynym[e] it hym. But, as the reward of the virtuous is derived from virtue, a man cannot lose this meed unless he ceases to be virtuous. but for as moche as to euery wyȝt hys owen propre bounte 3404 ȝeueþ hym hys mede. þan at arst shal he faylen of mede whan he forletiþ to ben good. Lastly, since a reward is desired because it is supposed to be a good, can we believe that he who is capable of good is deprived of the recompence? and at þe laste so as alle medes ben requered for men wenen þat þei ben good[e]. who is he þat wolde deme þat he þat is ryȝt 3408 myȝty of goode were partles of mede. [* fol. 27.] What reward shall he receive? *and of what mede shal he be gerdoned. Certainly the fairest and richest of all rewards. certys of ryȝt faire mede and ryȝt greet abouen alle medes. Call to mind that excellent corollary I have already given thee, and reason thus:— ¶ Remembre þe of þilk noble corolarie þat I ȝaf þe a lytel here byforne. 3412 and gadre it to gidre in þis manere. Since the supreme good is happiness, it follows that all good men are happy in as much as they are good; but if they are happy they must become as it were gods. so as god hym self is blisfulnesse. þan is it clere and certeyn. þat alle good folk ben makid blisful for þei ben good[e]. and þilke folk þat ben blisful it accordiþ and is couenable to ben 3416 godde[s]. The reward (i. e. divinity) of the righteous is such that no time can impair it, no power can diminish it, nor can any wickedness obscure it. þan is þe mede of goode folk swiche. þat no day [ne] shal enpeyren it. ne no wickednesse shal endirken it. ne power of no wyȝt ne shal nat amenusen it þat is to seyn to ben maked goddes. Since, then, happiness belongs to good men, punishment inseparably attends the wicked. ¶ and syn it is 3420 þus þat goode men ne faylen neuer mo of hire medes. ¶ certys no wise man ne may doute of þe vndepartable peyne of shrewes. ¶ þat is to seyn þat þe peyne of shrewes ne departiþ nat from hem self neuer mo. 3424

For since good and evil are contraries, so are rewards and punishments. ¶ For so as goode and yuel and peyne and medes ben contrarie it mot nedes ben þat ryȝt as we seen by-tiden in gerdoun of goode. It is evident that rewards follow good actions, and punishments attend evil actions; then as virtue itself is the reward of the virtuous, so vice is the punishment of the vicious. þat also mot þe peyne of yuel answere by þe contrarie partye to shrewes. now þan so 3428 as bounte and prowesse ben þe medes to goode folk. also is shrewednesse it self torment to shrewes He who is punished with pain and uneasiness knows that he is afflicted with evil. ¶ þan who so þat euer is entecched and defouled wiþ yuel. If, then, the wicked did rightly understand themselves they would perceive that they are not exempted from punishment. yif shrewes wolen þan preisen hem self may it semen 3432 to hem þat þei ben wiþ outen partye of tourment. Since vice, the extreme and worst kind of evil, not only afflicts them, but infects and entirely pollutes them. syn þei ben swiche þat þe [vtteriste wikkednesse / þat is to seyn wikkede thewes / which þat is the] outereste and þe w[or]ste kynde of shrewednesse ne defouliþ nat ne 3436 entecehiþ nat hem oonly but infectiþ and enuenemyþ hem gretely But contemplate the punishment of the wicked. ¶ And al so loke on shrewes þat ben þe contrarie partye of goode men. how grete peyne felawshipeþ and folweþ hem. You have been taught that unity is essential to being and is good—and all that have this unity are good; whatsoever, then, fails to be good ceases to exist. ¶ For þou hast lerned a litel 3440 here byforn þat al þing þat is and haþ beynge is oon. and þilke same oon is good. þan is þis conse­quence þat it semeþ wel. þat al þat is and haþ beynge is good. þis is to seyne. as who seiþ þat beynge and vnite and 3444 goodnesse is al oon. and in þis manere it folweþ þan. þat al þing þat faileþ to ben good. it styntiþ forto be. and forto haue any beynge. So that it appears that evil men must cease to be what they were. wher fore it is þat shrewes stynten forto ben þat þei weren. That they were once men, the outward form of the body, which still remains, clearly testifies. but þilke oþer forme 3448 of mankynde. þat is to seyne þe forme of þe body wiþ oute. shewiþ ȝit þat þise shrewes were somtyme men.

Wherefore, when they degenerate into wickedness they lose their human nature. ¶ wher fore whan þei ben peruerted and torned in to malice. certys þan han þei forlorn þe nature of mankynde. 3452 But as virtue alone exalts one man above other men, it is evident that vice, which divests a man of his nature, must sink him below humanity. but so as oonly bounte and prowesse may enhawnse euery man ouer oþer men. þan mot it nedes be þat shrewes whiche þat shrewednesse haþ cast out of þe condicioun of mankynde ben put vndir þe merite and 3456 þe deserte of men. You cannot, therefore, esteem him to be a man whom you see thus transformed by his vices. þan bitidiþ it þat yif þou seest a wyȝt þat be transformed in to vices. þou ne mayst nat wene þat he be a man. The greedy robber, you will say, is like a wolf. ¶ For ȝif he [be] ardaunt in auarice. and þat he be a rauynour by violence of 3460 foreine rychesse. þou shalt seyn þat he is lyke to a wolf. He who gives no rest to his abusive tongue, you may liken to a hound. and yif he be felonous and wiþ out reste and exercise hys tonge to chidynges. þou shalt lykene hym to þe hounde. Does he delight in fraud and trickery? then is he like young foxes. and yif he be a preue awaitour yhid and 3464 reioyseþ hym to rauysshe by wyles. þou shalt seyne hym lyke to þe fox whelpes. Is he intemperate in his anger? then men will compare him to a raging lion. ¶ And yif he be distempre and quakiþ for ire men shal wene þat he bereþ þe corage of a lyoun. If he be a coward, he will be likened to a hart. and yif he be dredeful and fleynge 3468 and dredeþ þinges þat ne auȝten nat ben dred. men shal holde hym lyke to þe herte. If he be slow, dull, and lazy, then is he like an ass. and yif he be slowe and astoned and lache. he lyueþ as an asse. Is he fickle and inconstant? Then is he like a bird. and yif he be lyȝt and vnstedfast of corage and chaungeþ ay his 3472 studies. he is lickened to briddes. Doth he wallow in filthy lusts? Then doth he roll himself in the mire like a nasty sow. ¶ and yif he be plounged in foule and vnclene luxuries. he is wiþholden in þe foule delices of þe foule soowe. It follows, then, that he who ceases to be virtuous, ceases to be a man; and, since he cannot attain divinity, he is turned into a beast. ¶ þan folweþ it þat he þat forletiþ bountee and prowesse. he forletiþ to 3476 ben a man. syn he ne may nat passe in to þe condicioun of god. he is tourned in to a beest.

Evrus þe Ulysses was driven by the eastern winds upon the shores of that isle where Circe dwelt, who, having entertained her guests with magic draughts, transformed them into divers shapes—one into a boar, another into a lion; wynde aryueþ þe sayles of vlixes duc of þe contre of narice. and hys wandryng shippes by þe 3480 see in to þe isle þere as Circe þe fayre goddesse douȝter of þe sonne dwelleþ þat medlyþ to hir newe gestes drynkes þat ben touched and maked wiþ enchauntmentȝ. and after þat hir hande myȝty of þe herbes 3484 had[de] chaunged hir gestes in to dyuerse maneres. þat oon of hem is couered his face wiþ forme of a boor. þat oþer is chaunged in to a lyoun of þe contre of marmorike. and his nayles and his teþe wexen. some into howling wolves, and others into Indian tigers. ¶ þat 3488 oþer of hem is newliche chaunged in to a wolf. and howeliþ whan he wolde wepe. þat oþer goþ debonairly in þe house as a tigre of Inde. But Mercury, the Arcadian god, rescued Ulysses from the Circean charms. Yet his mariners, having drunk of her infected drinks, were changed to swine, and fed on acorns. but al be it so þat þe godhed of mercurie þat is cleped þe bride of arcadie haþ 3492 had mercie of þe duc vlixes byseged wiþ diuerse yueles and haþ vnbounden hym fro þe pestilence of hys oosteresse algates þe rowers and þe maryners hadden by þis ydrawen in to hir mouþes and dronken þe wicked[e] 3496 drynkes þei þat were woxen swyne hadden by þis chaunged hire mete of brede forto ete acorns of ookes. All traces of the human form were lost, and they were bereft of speech. non of hir lymes ne dwelliþ wiþ hem hoole. but þei han lost þe voys and þe body. Their souls, unchanged, bewailed their dreadful fate. Oonly hire þouȝt 3500 dwelleþ wiþ hem stable þat wepiþ and bywailiþ þe monstruous chaungynge þat þei suffren. O most weak, are Circe’s powers compared with the potency of vice, to transform the human shape! ¶ O ouer lyȝt hand. as who seiþ. ¶ O feble and lyȝt is þe hand of Circes þe enchaunteresse þat chaungeþ þe bodies of folk 3504 in to bestes to regarde and to comparisoun of mutacioun þat is makid by vices. Circe’s herbs may change the body, but cannot touch the mind, the inward strength of man. ne þe herbes of circes ne ben nat myȝty. for al be it so þat þei may chaungen þe lymes of þe body. ¶ algates ȝit þei may nat chaunge þe 3508 hertes. for wiþ inne is yhid þe strengþe and þe vigour of men in þe secre toure of hire hertys. þat is to seyn þe strengþe of resoun. But vice is more potent than Circe’s poisonous charms. but þilke uenyms of vices to-drawen a man to hem more myȝtily þan þe venym of 3512 circes. Though it leaves the body whole, it pierces the inner man, and inflicts a deadly wound upon the soul. ¶ For vices ben so cruel þat þei percen and þoruȝ passen þe corage wiþ inne. and þouȝ þei ne anoye nat þe body. ȝitte vices wooden to distroien men by wounde of þouȝt. 3516

But were this power, which men ascribe to them, taken away from the wicked, they would be relieved of the greatest part of their punishment. ¶ But naþeles yif so were þat þilke þat men wenen ben leueful for shrewes were bynomen hem. so þat þei ne myȝten nat anoyen or don harme to goode men. ¶ Certys 3528 a gret party of þe peyne to shrewes shulde ben allegged and releued. The wicked are more unhappy when they have accomplished their evil designs than when they fail to do so. ¶ For al be it so þat þis ne seme nat credible þing perauenture to somme folk ȝit mot it nedes be þat shrewes ben more wrecches and vnsely. 3532 whan þei may don and performe þat þei coueiten [than yif they myhte nat complyssen þat they coueyten]. If it is a miserable thing to will evil, it is a greater unhappiness to have the power to execute it, without which power the wicked desires would languish without effect. ¶ For yif so be þat it be wrecchednesse to wilne to don yuel; þan is it more wrecchednesse to mowen don yuel. 3536 wiþ oute whiche moeuyng þe wrecched wille sholde languisshe wiþ oute effecte. Since, then, each of these three things (i. e. the will, the power, and the accomplishment of evil) hath its misery, therefore a threefold wretchedness afflicts those who both will, can, and do commit sin. ¶ þan syn þat eueryche of þise þinges haþ hys wrecchednesse. þat is to seyne wil to done yuel. and moeuynge to done yuel. it mot nedes 3540 be. þat þei (shrewes) ben constreyned by þre vnselynesses þat wolen and mowen and performen felonyes and shrewednesses. B. I grant it—but still I wish the vicious were without this misfortune. ¶ I accorde me quod I. but I desire gretely þat shrewes losten sone þilke vnselynesses. 3544 þat is to seyne þat shrewes were despoyled of moeuyng to don yuel. P. They shall be despoiled of it sooner than you wish perhaps, or than they themselves imagine. ¶ so shullen þei quod she. sonnere [* fol. 28.] perauenture þen þou woldest *or sonnere þen þei hem self wenen to lakken mowynge to done yuel. In the narrow limits of this life, nothing, however tardy it appears, can seem to an immortal soul to have a very long duration. ¶ For 3548 þere nis no þing so late in so short boundes of þis lijf þat is longe to abide. namelyche to a corage inmortel. The great hopes, and the subtle machinations of the wicked, are often suddenly frustrated, by which an end is put to their wickedness. Of whiche shrewes þe grete hope and þe heye compassyngus of shrewednesse is often destroyed by a 3552 sodeyne ende or þei ben war. and þat þing establiþ to shrewes þe ende of hir shrewednesse. If vice renders men wretched, the longer they are vicious the longer must they be miserable. ¶ For yif þat shrewednesse makiþe wrecches. þan mot he nedes be most wrecched þat lengest is a shrewe. And they would be infinitely wretched if death did not put an end to their crimes. þe whiche 3556 wicked shrewes wolde ydemen aldirmost vnsely and caytifs yif þat hir shrewednes ne were yfinissed. at þe leste weye by þe outerest[e] deeþ. It is clear, as I have already shown, that eternal misery is infinite. for [yif] I haue concluded soþe of þe vnselynesse of shrewednesse. þan sheweþ 3560 it clerely þat þilke shrewednesse is wiþ outen ende þe whiche is certeyne to ben perdurable. B. This conse­quence appears to be just, but difficult to assent to. ¶ Certys quod I þis [conclusion] is harde and wonderful to graunte. ¶ But I knowe wel þat it accordeþ moche to [the] þinges þat I 3564 haue graunted her byforne. P. You think rightly; but if you cannot assent to my conclusion you ought to show that the premises are false, or that the conse­quences are unfairly deduced; for if the premises be granted, you cannot reject the inferences from them. ¶ þou hast quod she þe ryȝt estimacioun of þis. but who so euere wene þat it be an harde þing to acorde hym to a conclusioun. it is ryȝt þat he shewe þat somme of þe premisses ben fals. or 3568 ellys he mot shewe þat þe colasioun of preposiciouns nis nat spedful to a necessarie conclusion. ¶ and yif it be nat so. but þat þe premisses ben ygranted þer nis nat whi he sholde blame þe argument. What I am about to say is not less wonderful, and it follows necessarily from the same premises. for þis þing þat 3572 I shal telle þe nowe ne shal not seme lasse wondirful.

but of þe þinges þat ben taken al so it is necessarie as who so seiþ it folweþ of þat whiche þat is purposed byforn. B. What is that? what is þat quod I. P. That the wicked who have been punished for their crimes, are happier than if justice had allowed them to go unpunished. ¶ certys quod she þat is 3576 þat þat þise wicked shrewes ben more blysful or ellys lasse wrecches. þat byen þe tourmentes þat þei han deserued. þan yif no peyne of Iustice ne chastied[e] hem. I do not appeal to popular arguments, that punishment corrects vice, that the fear of chastisement leads them to take the right path, and that the sufferings of evil-doers deter others from vice, but I believe that guilty men, unpunished, become much more unhappy in another way. ne þis ne seye I nat now for þat any man myȝt[e] 3580 þenk[e] þat þe maneres of shrewes ben coriged and chastised by veniaunce. and þat þei ben brouȝt to þe ryȝt wey by þe drede of þe tourment. ne for þat þei ȝeuen to oþer folk ensample to fleyen from vices. ¶ But 3584 I vndirstonde ȝitte [in] an oþer manere þat shrewes ben more vnsely whan þei ne ben nat punissed al be it so þat þere ne ben had no resoun or lawe of correccioun. ne none ensample of lokynge. B. In what way do you mean? ¶ And what manere 3588 shal þat ben quod I. ouþer þan haþ ben told here byforn P. Are not good people happy, and evil folk miserable? ¶ Haue we nat graunted þan quod she þat good[e] folk ben blysful. and shrewes ben wrecches. B. Yes. ȝis quod I. P. If good be added to the wretchedness of a man, will not he be happier than another whose misery has no element of good in it? [thanne quod she] ȝif þat any good were 3592 added to þe wrecchenesse of any wyȝt. nis he nat more blisful þan he þat ne haþ no medelyng of goode in hys solitarie wrecchednesse. B. It seems so. so semeþ it quod I. P. And if to the same wretched being another misery be annexed, does not he become more wretched than he whose misery is alleviated by the participation of some good? and what seyst þou þan quod she of þilke wrecche þat lakkeþ alle 3596 goodes. so þat no goode nis medeled in hys wrecchednesse. and ȝitte ouer alle hys wickednesse for whiche he is a wrecche þat þer be ȝitte anoþer yuel anexid and knyt to hym. shal not men demen hym more vnsely 3600 þan þilke wrecche of whiche þe vnselynesse is re[le]ued by þe participacioun of som goode. B. He does. whi sholde he nat quod I. P. When evil men are punished they have a degree of good annexed to their wretchedness, to wit, the punishment itself, which as it is the effect of justice is good. ¶ þan certys quod she han shrewes whan þei ben punissed somwhat of good anexid to hir wrecchednesse. 3604 þat is to seyne þe same peyne þat þei suffren whiche þat is good by þe resoun of Iustice. And when these wretches escape punishment something more of ill (i. e. exemption from punishment) is added to their condition. And whan þilke same shrewes ascapen wiþ outen tourment. þan han þei somwhat more of yuel ȝit ouer þe wickednesse 3608 þat þei han don. þat is to seye defaute of peyne. whiche defaute of peyne þou hast graunted is yuel.

B. I cannot deny it. ¶ For þe desert of felonye I ne may nat denye it quod I. P. Much more unhappy are the wicked when they enjoy an unmerited impunity than when they suffer a lawful chastisement. ¶ Moche more þan quod she ben shrewes vnsely 3612 whan þei ben wrongfully delyuered fro peyne. þan whan þei beþ punissed by ryȝtful vengeaunce. It is just to punish evil-doers, and unjust that they should escape punishment. but þis is open þing and clere þat it is ryȝt þat shrewes ben punissed. and it is wickednesse and wrong þat þei 3616 escapin vnpunissed. [* fol. 28 b.] B. Nobody denies that. ¶ who myȝt[e] denye *þat quod I. P. Everything, too, which is just is good; and, on the contrary, whatsoever is unjust is evil. but quod she may any man denye. þat al þat is ryȝt nis good. and also þe contrarie. þat alle þat is wrong nis wicked. B. These are just inferences from our former premises. certys quod I þise þinges ben clere ynouȝ. and 3620 þat we han concludid a litel here byforne. But is there any punishment for the soul after death of the body? but I preye þe þat þou telle me yif þou accordest to leten no tourment to þe soules aftir þat þe body is dedid by þe deþe. þis [is] to seyn. vndirstondest þou ouȝt þat soules han 3624 any tourment after þe deþe of þe body. P. Yes, and great ones too. Some punishments are rigorous and eternal. ¶ Certis quod she ȝe and þat ryȝt grete. of whiche soules quod she I trowe þat somme ben tourmentid by asprenesse of peyne. Others have a corrective and purifying force, and are of finite duration. and somme soules I trowe be excercised by a 3628 purging mekenesse. But this is not to our purpose. but my conseil nys nat to determyne of þis peyne. but I haue trauayled and told it hider to. I want you to see that the power of the wicked is in reality nothing, that the wicked never go unpunished; that their licence to do evil is not of long duration, and that the wicked would be more unhappy if it were longer, and infinitely wretched if it were to continue for ever. ¶ For þou sholdest knowe þat þe mowynge [.i. myght] of shrewes whiche mowynge þe semeþ to 3632 ben. vnworþi nis no mowynge. and eke of shrewes of whiche þou pleynedest þat þei ne were nat punissed. þat þou woldest seen þat þei ne weren neuer mo wiþ outen þe torment of hire wickednesse. and of þe licence 3636 of mowynge to done yuel. þat þou preidest þat it myȝt[e] sone ben endid. and þat þou woldest fayne lerne. þat it ne sholde nat longe endure. and þat shrewes ben more vnsely yif þei were of lenger duryng. 3640 and most vnsely yif þei weren perdurable. After this I showed that evil men are more unhappy, having escaped punishment, than if justly chastised. and after þis I haue shewed þe þat more vnsely ben shrewes whan þei escapen wiþ oute ryȝtful peyne. þan whan þei ben punissed by ryȝtful uengeaunce. Wherefore when they are supposed to get off scot-free they suffer most grievously. and of þis sentence 3644 folweþ it þat þan ben shrewes constreyned atte laste wiþ most greuous tourment. whan men wene þat þei ne ben nat ypunissed. B. Your reasoning appears convincing and conclusive. But your arguments are opposed to current opinions, and would hardly command assent, or even a hearing. whan I considre þi resouns quod I. I. ne trowe nat þat men seyn any þing more verrely. and 3648 yif I tourne aȝeyn to þe studies of men. who is [he] to whom it sholde seme þat [he] ne sholde nat only leuen þise þinges. but eke gladly herkene hem. P. It is so. For those accustomed to the darkness of error cannot fix their eyes on the light of perspicuous truth, like birds of night which are blinded by the full light of day. Certys quod she so it is. but men may nat. for þei han hire eyen so 3652 wont to derkenesse of erþely þinges. þat þei may nat liften hem vp to þe lyȝt of clere soþefastnes. ¶ But þei ben lyke to briddes of whiche þe nyȝt lyȝtneþ hyre lookyng. and þe day blyndeþ hem. They consider only the gratification of their lusts, they think there is happiness in the liberty of doing evil and in exemption from punishment. for whan men loken 3656 nat þe ordre of þinges but hire lustes and talentȝ. þei wene þat oþir þe leue or þe mowynge to done wickednesse or ellys þe escaping wiþ oute peyne be weleful.

P. Do you deny that every wicked man deserves punishment? ¶ Deniest þou quod she þat alle shrewes ne ben worþi to han tourment. B. No, I do not. nay quod I. P. I am satisfied that impious men are in many ways miserable. but quod she I am certeyne by many resouns þat shrewes ben vnsely. B. They are so. it accordeþ quod I. P. Then those that deserve punishment are miserable. þan [ne] dowtest þou nat quod she þat 3688 þilke folk þat ben worþi of tourment þat þei ne ben wrecches. B. I admit it. It accordeþ wel quod I. P. If you were a judge, upon whom would you inflict punishment? upon the wrong-doer, or upon the injured? yif þou were þan quod she yset a Iuge or a knower of þinges. wheþer trowest þou þat men sholde tourment[e] hym þat haþ 3692 don þe wronge. or hym þat haþ suffred þe wronge. B. I should not hesitate to punish the offender as a satisfaction to the sufferer. I ne doute nat quod I. þat I nolde don suffissaunt satisfaccioun to hym þat had[de] suffred þe wrong by þe sorwe of hym þat had[de] don þe wronge. P. Then you would deem the injuring person more unhappy than he who had been wronged? ¶ þan 3696 semeþ it quod she þat þe doar of wrong is more wrecche þan he þat haþ suffred þe wrong. B. That follows naturally. þat folweþ wel quod [I]. P. From this then, and other reasons of like nature, it seems that vice makes men miserable, and an injury done to any man is the misery of the doer, and not of the sufferer. þan quod she by þise causes and by oþer causes þat ben enforced by þe same roate þat filþe or synne by 3700 þe propre nature of it makeþ men wretches. and it sheweþ wel þat þe wrong þat men don nis nat þe wrecchenesse of hym þat receyueþ þe wrong. but þe wrecchednesse of hym þat doþ þe wronge But our advocates think differently—they try to obtain pity for those that have suffered cruelty and oppression; ¶ but certys 3704 quod she þise oratours or aduocatȝ don al þe contrarie for þei enforcen hem to commoeue þe iuges to han pite of hem þat han suffred and resceyued þe þinges þat ben greuous and aspre. but the juster pity is really due to the oppressors, who ought, therefore, to be led to judgment as the sick are to the physician, not by angry but by merciful and kind accusers, so that, by the physic of chastisement, they may be cured of their vices. and ȝitte men sholden more ryȝtfully 3708 han pitee on hem þat don þe greuaunces and þe wronges. þe whiche shrewes it were a more couenable þing þat þe accusours or aduocatȝ not wroþe but pitous and debonaire ladden þe shrewes þat han don wrong to 3712 þe Iugement. ryȝt as men leden seke folk to þe leche.

for þat þei sholden seken out þe maladies of synne by tourmentȝ. I would not have the guilty defrauded by their advocates. Their duty is to accuse, and not to excuse offenders. and by þis couenaunt eyþer þe entent of þe defendours or aduocatȝ sholde fayle and cesen in al. or 3716 ellys yif þe office of aduocatȝ wolde bettre profiten to men. it sholde be tourned in to þe habit of accusacioun. þat is [to] s[e]yn þei sholden accuse shrewes. and nat excuse hem. Were it permitted the wicked to get a slight view of virtue’s beauty, which they have forsaken, and could they be persuaded of the purifying effects of lawful chastisement, they surely would not consider punishment as an evil, but would willingly give themselves up to justice and refuse the defence of their advocates. and eke þe shrewes hem self. ȝit it were 3720 leueful to hem to seen at any clifte þe vertue þat þei han forleten. and sawen þat þei sholde putten adoun þe filþes of hire vices by [the] tourmentȝ of peynes. þei ne auȝten nat ryȝt for þe recompensacioun forto geten 3724 hem bounte and prowesse whiche þat þei han lost demen ne holden þat þilke peynes weren tourmentes to hem. and eke þei wolden refuse þe attendaunce of hir aduocatȝ and taken hem self to hire iuges and to hir accusours. 3728 The wise hate nobody, only a fool hates good men; and it is as irrational to hate the wicked. for whiche it bytideþ [þat] as to þe wise folk þer nis no place ylete to hate. þat is to seyn. þat hate ne haþ no place amonges wise men. ¶ For no wyȝt wolde haten gode men. but yif he were ouer moche a 3732 fole. ¶ and forto haten shrewes it nis no resoun. Vice is a sickness of the soul, and needs our compassion, and not our hate, for the distempers of the soul are more deplorable than those of the body, and have more claims upon our compassion. ¶ For ryȝt so as languissing is maladie of body. ryȝt so ben vices and synne maladies of corage. ¶ and so as we ne deme nat þat þei þat ben seek of hire body ben 3736 worþi to ben hated. but raþer worþi of pite. wel more worþi nat to ben hated. but forto ben had in pite ben þei of whiche þe þouȝtes ben constreined by felonous wickednesse. þat is more cruel þan any languissinge of 3740 body.

Þus see I wel B. I see plainly the nature of that felicity which attends the virtues of the good, and of the misery that follows the vices of the wicked. quod I. eyþer what blisfulnesse or ellys what vnselinesse is estab[l]issed in þe desertys of goode men and of shrewes. But in Fortune I see a mixture of good and evil. The wise man prefers riches, &c., to poverty, &c. ¶ but in þis ilke fortune of poeple I see somwhat of goode. and somwhat of 3760 yuel. for no wise man haþ nat leuer ben exiled pore and nedy and nameles. þan forto dwellen in hys Citee and flouren of rychesses. and be redoutable by honoure. and stronge of power And wisdom appears more illustrious, when wise men are governors and impart their felicity to their subjects; and when imprisonment, torture, &c., are inflicted only upon bad citizens. for in þis wise more clerely and 3764 more witnesfully is þe office of wise men ytretid whan þe blisfulnes and [the] pouste of gouernours is as it were yshad amonges poeples þat ben neyȝboures and subgitȝ. syn þat namely prisoun lawe and þise oþer 3768 tourmentȝ of lawful peynes ben raþer owed to felonous Citeȝeins. for þe whiche felonous Citeȝeins þo peynes ben establissed. þan for goode folk. Why, then, should things undergo so unnatural a change? ¶ þan I merueile me gretly quod I. whi [þat] þe þinges ben so mys 3772 Why should the worthy suffer and the vicious receive the reward of virtue? entrechaunged. þat tourmentȝ felounes pressen and confounden goode folk. and shrewes rauyssen medes of vertue and ben in honours. and in grete estatis. I should like to hear the reason of so unjust a distribution. and I desire eke to witen of þe. what semeþ þe to ben þe 3776 resoun of þis so wrongful a confusioun I should not marvel so much if Chance were the cause of all this confusion. ¶ For I wolde wondre wel þe lasse yif I trowed[e] þat alle þise þinges were medeled by fortuouse hap. But I am overwhelmed with astonishment when I reflect, that God the director of all things thus unequally distributes rewards and punishments. ¶ But now hepeþ and encreseþ myne astonyenge god gouernour of þinges. 3780 þat so as god ȝeueþ ofte tymes to good[e] men goodes and myrþes. and to shrewes yuel and aspre þinges. and ȝeueþ aȝeynewarde to goode folk hardnesse. and to shrewes [he] graunteþ hem her wille and þat þei desiren. 3784 What difference is there, then, unless we know the cause, between God’s proceedings and the operations of Chance? what difference þan may þer be bitwixen þat þat god doþ. and þe hap of fortune. yif men ne knowe nat þe cause whi þat [it] is. P. It is not at all surprising that you think you see irregularities, when you are ignorant of that order by which God proceeds. it nis no merueile quod she þouȝ þat men wenen þat þer be somwhat folysche and confus 3788 whan þe resoun of þe order is vnknowe. But, forasmuch as God, the good governor, presides over all, rest assured that all things are done rightly and as they ought to be done. ¶ But alle þouȝ þou ne know nat þe cause of so gret a disposicioun. naþeles for as moche as god þe good[e] gouernour attempreþ and gouerneþ þe world. ne doute þe nat þat 3792 alle þinges ne ben doon aryȝt.

Who so þat ne He who knows not that the Bear is seen near the Pole, nor has observed the path of Boötes, will marvel at their appearance. knowe nat þe sterres of arctour ytourned neye to þe souereyne contre or point. þat is to seyne ytourned neye to þe souereyne pool of þe 3796 firmament and woot nat whi þe sterre boetes passeþ or gaderiþ his wey[n]es. and drencheþ his late flaumbes in þe see. and whi þat boetes þe sterre vnfoldiþ his ouer swifte arisynges. þan shal he wondren of þe lawe of þe 3800 heye eyre. The vulgar are alarmed when shadows terrestrial obscure the moon’s brightness, causing the stars to be displayed. and eke if þat he ne knowe nat why þat þe hornes of þe ful[le] moene waxen pale and infect by þe boundes of þe derke nyȝt ¶ and how þe moene dirk and confuse discouereþ þe sterres. þat she had[de] 3804 ycouered by hir clere visage. Thinking the eclipse the result of enchantment, they sought to destroy the charms by the tinkling of brazen vessels or cymbals. þe commune errour moeueþ folk and makiþ wery hir bacines of bras by þikke strookes. þat is to seyne þat þer is a maner poeple þat hyȝt[e] coribandes þat wenen þat whan þe moone is in 3808 þe eclips þat it be enchauntid. and þerfore forto rescowe þe moone þei betyn hire basines wiþ þikke strokes. Yet none marvel when the north-west wind renders the sea tempestuous; nor when vast heaps of congealed snow are melted by the warm rays of the sun, because the causes are apparent. ¶ Ne no man ne wondreþ whan þe blastes of þe wynde chorus betyn þe strondes of þe see by quakynge floodes. 3812 ne no man ne wondreþ whan þe weyȝte of þe snowe yhardid by þe colde. is resolued by þe brennynge hete of phebus þe sonne. ¶ For here seen men redyly þe causes. [* fol. 30.] Things whose causes are unknown disquiet the human mind. but þe *causes yhid þat is to seye in heuene 3816 trouble þe brestes of men. The fickle mob stands amazed at every rare or sudden phenomenon. ¶ þe moeueable poeple is a-stoned of alle þinges þat comen selde and sodeynely in oure age. Fear and wonder, however, soon cease when ignorance given place to certain knowledge. but yif þe troubly errour of oure ignorance departid[e] from vs. so þat we wisten þe causes whi þat 3820 swiche þinges bitiden. certys þei sholden cesse to seme wondres.

Þvs is B. So it is. But as thou hast promised to unfold the hidden causes of things, and unveil things wrapt up in darkness; I pray thee deliver me from my present perplexity, and explain the mystery I mentioned to you. it quod I. but so as þou hast ȝeuen or byhyȝt me to vnwrappen þe hidde causes of þinges ¶ and 3824 to discoueren me þe resouns couered with dirknesses I preye þe þat þou diuise and Iuge me of þis matere. and þat þou do me to vndrestonden it. ¶ For þis miracle or þis wondre troubleþ me ryȝt gretely. P. You ask me to declare to you the most intricate of all questions, which I am afraid can scarce be answered. and þan she a 3828 litel [what] smylyng seide. ¶ þou clepest me quod she to telle þing. þat is grettest of alle þinges þat mowen ben axed. ¶ And to þe whiche questioun vnneþ[e]s is þere auȝt ynow to lauen it. as who seiþ. vnneþes is þer 3832 suffisauntly any þing to answere perfitly to þi questioun. For the subject is of such a kind, that when one doubt is removed, innumerable others, like the heads of the hydra, spring up. ¶ For þe matere of it is swiche þat whan oon doute is determined and kut awey þer wexen oþer doutes wiþ-outen noumbre. ryȝt as þe heuedes waxen of ydre þe 3836 serpent þat hercules slouȝ. Nor would there be any end of them unless they were restrained by a quick and vigorous effort of the mind. ¶ Ne þere ne were no manere ne noon ende. but yif þat a wyȝt constreined[e] þo doutes. by a ryȝt lyuely and a quik fire of þouȝt. þat is to seyn by vigour and strengþe of witte. The question whereof you want a solution embraces the five following points: 1. Simplicity, or unity of Providence. 2. The order and course of Destiny. ¶ For in 3840 þis matere men weren wont to maken questiouns of þe simplicite of þe purueaunce of god and of þe ordre of destine. 3. Sudden chance. 4. Prescience of God, and divine predestination. 5. Free-will. and of sodeyne hap. and of þe knowyng and predestinacioun deuine and of þe lyberte of fre wille. 3844 þe whiche þing þou þi self aperceiust wel of what weyȝt þei ben. but for as mochel as þe knowynge of þise þinges is a manere porcioun to þe medicine to þe. al be it so þat I haue lytel tyme to don it. I will try to treat of these things:— ȝit naþeles I wole 3848 enforcen me to shewe somwhat of it. ¶ but al þouȝ þe norissinges of dite of musike deliteþ þe þow most suffren. and forberen a litel of þilk delite while þat I weue (contexo) to þe resouns yknyt by ordre ¶ As it likeþ 3852 to þe quod I so do. Resuming her discourse as from a new principle, Philosophy argued as follows:— ¶ þo spak she ryȝt a[s] by an oþer bygynnyn[ge] and seide þus. The generation of all things, every progression of things liable to change, and everything that moveth, derive their causes, order, and form from the immutability of the divine understanding. ¶ þe engendrynge of alle þinges quod she and alle þe progressiouns of muuable nature. and alle þat moeueþ in any manere takiþ hys 3856 causes. hys ordre. and hys formes. of þe stablenesse of þe deuyne þouȝt Providence directs all things by a variety of means. [and thilke deuyne thowht] þat is yset and put in þe toure. þat is to seyne in þe heyȝt of þe simplicite of god. stablisiþ many manere gyses to þinges þat 3860 ben to don.

But some things under Providence are exempt from the control of Fate; being stably fixed near to the Divinity himself, and beyond the movement of Destiny. ¶ But somme þinges ben put vndir purueaunce þat 3908 sourmounten þe ordinaunce of destine. and þo ben þilke þat stably ben yficched ney to þe first godhed þei sourmounten þe ordre of destinal moeuablite. For even, as among several circles revolving round one common centre, that which is innermost approaches nearest to the simplicity of the middle points, and is, as it were, a centre, round which the outward ones revolve; ¶ For ryȝt as cercles þat tournen aboute a same Centre or 3912 about a poynt. þilke cercle þat is inrest or moost wiþ-ynne ioineþ to þe symplesse of þe myddel and is as it were a Centre or a poynt to þat oþer cercles þat tournen abouten hym. whilst the outermost, revolving in a wider circumference, the further it is from the centre describes a larger space—but yet, if this circle or anything else be joined to the middle point, it is constrained to be immovable. ¶ and þilke þat is outerest compased by 3916 larger envyronnynge is vnfolden by larger spaces in so mochel as it is forþest fro þe mydel symplicite of þe poynt. and yif þer be any þing þat knytteþ and felawshippeþ hym selfe to þilke mydel poynt it is constreyned 3920 in to symplicite. þat is to seyn in to [vn]moeueablete. and it ceseth to ben shad and to fletin dyuersly. By parity of reason, the further anything is removed from the first intelligence, so much the more is it under the control of Destiny; ¶ Ryȝt so by semblable resoun. þilke þinge þat departiþ firþest fro þe first þouȝt of god. it is vnfolden and summittid 3924 to grettere bondes of destine. and the nearer anything approaches to this Intelligence, the centre of all things, the more stable it becomes, and the less dependent upon Destiny. and in so moche is þe þing more free and lovs fro destyne as it axeþ and holdeþ hym ner to þilke Centre of þinges. þat is to seyne god.

And if we suppose that the thing in question is joined to the stability of the supreme mind, it then becomes immovable, and is beyond the necessity and power of destiny. ¶ and if þe þinge cleueþ to þe stedfastnesse 3928 of þe þouȝt of god. and be wiþ oute moeuyng certys it sourmounteþ þe necessite of destyne. As reasoning is to the understanding, as that which is produced to that which exists of itself, as time to eternity, as the circle to the centre, so is the movable order of Fate to the stable simplicity of Providence. þan ryȝt swiche comparisoun as [it] is of skilynge to vndirstondyng and of þing þat is engendred to þing þat is. and of tyme to 3932 eternite. and of þe cercle to þe Centre. ryȝt so is þe ordre of moeueable destine to þe stable symplicite of purueaunce. Destiny rules nature. ¶ þilke ordinaunce moeueþ þe heuene and þe sterres and attempreþ þe elymentȝ to gider 3936 amonges hem self. and transformeþ hem by enterchaungable mutacioun. ¶ and þilke same ordre neweþ aȝein alle þinges growyng and fallyng a-doune by sembleables progressiouns of seedes and of sexes. þat is 3940 to sein. male and female. It controls the actions of men by an indissoluble chain of causes, and is, like their origin, immutable. and þis ilke ordre constreyneþ þe fortunes and þe dedes of men by a bonde of causes nat able to ben vnbounden (indissolubili). þe whiche destinal causes whanne þei passen oute fro þe bygynnynges 3944 of þe vnmoeueable purueaunce it mot nedes be þat þei ne be nat mutable. Thus, then, are all things well conducted, since that invariable order of cause has its origin in the simplicity of the Divine mind, and þus ben þe þinges ful wel ygouerned. [* fol. 31.] yif þat þe symplicite dwellynge *in þe deuyne þouȝt sheweþ furþe þe ordre of causes. and by its inherent immutability exercises a restraint upon mutable things, and preserves them from irregularity. vnable to 3948 be I-bowed. and þis ordre constreyneþ by hys propre stablete þe moeueable þinges. or ellys þei sholde fleten folily To those who understand not this order, things appear confused—nevertheless, the proper condition of all things directs and inclines it to their true good. for whiche it is þat alle þinges semen to be confus and trouble to vs men. for we ne mowe nat considere 3952 þilke ordinaunce. ¶ Naþeles þe propre manere of euery þing dressynge hem to goode disponit hem alle. For there is nothing done for the sake of evil, not even by the wicked, who, in seeking for felicity, are led astray by crooked error. for þere nis no þinge don for cause of yuel. ne þilke þing þat is don by wicked[e] folk nis nat don for yuel 3956 þe whiche shrewes as I haue shewed [ful] plentiuously seken goode. but wicked errour mystourniþ hem.

Are men wise enough to discover, whether those whom they believe to be virtuous or wicked, are so in reality? ben men now so wise. þat swiche folk as þei demen to ben goode folk or shrewes þat it mot nedes ben þat folk ben swiche as þei wenen. Opinions differ as to this matter. Some who are deemed worthy of reward by one person, are deemed unworthy by another. but in þis manere þe domes 3968 of men discorden. þat þilke men þat somme folk demen worþi of mede. oþer folk demen hem worþi of tourment. But, suppose it were possible for one to distinguish with certainty between the good and the bad? but lat vs graunt[e] I pose þat som man may wel demen or knowen þe goode folk and þe badde. Then he must have as accurate a knowledge of the mind as one has of the body. May he þan 3972 knowen and seen þilke inrest attemperaunce of corages. as it haþ ben wont to be said of bodyes. as who saiþ may a man speken and determine of attemperaunce in corages. as men were wont to demen or speken of complexiouns 3976 and attemperaunces of bodies (q’ non). ne it [ne] is nat an vnlyke miracle to hem þat ne knowen it nat. It is miraculous to him who knows it not, why sweet things are agreeable to some bodies, and bitter to others; why some sick persons are relieved by lenitives and others by sharper remedies. ¶ As who seiþ. but is lyke a merueil or a miracle to hem þat ne knowen it nat. whi þat swete 3980 þinges [ben] couenable to some bodies þat ben hool and to some bodies bittre þinges ben couenable. and also whi þat some seke folk ben holpen with lyȝt medicines [and some folk ben holpen with sharppe medicynes] It is no marvel to the leech, who knows the causes of disease, and their cures. but 3984 naþeles þe leche þat knoweþ þe manere and þe attemperaunce of heele and of maladie ne merueileþ of it no þing. What constitutes the health of the mind, but goodness? And what are its maladies, but vice? but what oþer þing semeþ hele of corages but bounte and prowesse. and what oþer þing semeþ maladie 3988 of corages but vices. Who is the preserver of good, or the driver away of evil, but God, the physician of souls, who knows what is necessary for men, and bestows it upon them? who is ellys kepere of good or dryuere awey of yuel but god gouernour and leecher of þouȝtes. þe whiche god whan he haþ by-holden from þe heye toure of hys purueaunce he knoweþ what is 3992 couenable to euery wyȝt. and leneþ hem þat he wot [þat] is couenable to hem. From this source springs that great marvel—the order of destiny—wrought by the wisdom of God, and marveled at by ignorant men. Loo here of comeþ and here of is don þis noble miracle of þe ordre destinal.

whan god þat alle knoweþ doþ swiche þing. of whiche 3996 þing [þat] vnknowyng folk ben astoned But, now let us notice a few things concerning the depth of the Divine knowledge which human reason may comprehend. but forto constreine as who seiþ ¶ But forto comprehende and telle a fewe þinges of þe deuyne depnesse þe whiche þat mans resoun may vnderstonde. The man you deem just, may appear otherwise to the omniscient eye of Providence. ¶ þilk man þat þou wenest 4000 to ben ryȝt Iuste and ryȝt kepyng of equite. þe contrarie of þat semeþ to þe deuyne purueaunce þat al woot. ¶ And lucan my familier telleþ þat þe victories cause liked[e] to þe goddes and causes ouercomen liked[e] to 4004 catoun. When you see apparent irregularities—unexpected and unwished for—deem them to be rightly done. þan what so euer þou mayst seen þat is don in þis [world] vnhoped or vnwened. certys it is þe ryȝt[e] ordre of þinges. but as to þi wicked[e] oppinioun it is a confusioun. Let us suppose a man so well behaved, as to be approved of God and man—but not endowed with firmness of mind, so that the reverses of fortune will cause him to forgo his probity, since with it he cannot retain his prosperity. but I suppose þat som man be so wel yþewed. 4008 þat þe deuyne Iugement and þe Iugement of mankynde accorden hem to gidre of hym. but he is so vnstedfast of corage [þat] yif any aduersite come to hym he wolde for-leten perauenture to continue innocence by þe 4012 whiche he ne may nat wiþholden fortune. A wise Providence, knowing that adversity might destroy this man’s integrity, averts from him that adversity which he is not able to sustain. ¶ þan þe wise dispensacioun of god spareþ hym þe whiche [* fol. 31 b.] manere aduersite *myȝt[e] enpeyren. ¶ For þat god wil nat suffren hym to trauaile. to whom þat trauayl 4016 nis nat couenable. Another man is thoroughly virtuous, and approaches to the purity of the deity—him Providence deems it an injustice to oppress by adversity, and therefore exempts him even from bodily disease. ¶ An oþer man is perfit in alle uertues. and is an holy man and neye to god so þat þe purueaunce of god wolde demen þat it were a felony þat he were touched wiþ any aduersites. so þat he ne 4020 wil nat suffre þat swiche a man be moeued wiþ any manere maladie. ¶ But so as seide a philosophre [the moore excellent by me]. þe aduersites comen nat (he seide in grec;) þere þat uertues han edified þe bodie 4024 of þe holy man. Providence often gives the direction of public affairs to good men, in order to curb and restrain the malice of the wicked. and ofte tyme it bitideþ þat þe somme of þinges þat ben to don is taken to good folk to gouerne. for þat þe malice habundaunt of shrewes sholde ben abatid. To some is given a mixture of good and evil, according to what is most suitable to the dispositions of their minds. and god ȝeueþ and departiþ to oþer 4028 folk prosp[er]ites and aduersites ymedeled to hepe aftir þe qualite of hire corages and remordiþ som folk by aduersites. Upon some are laid moderate afflictions, lest they wax proud by too long a course of prosperity. for þei ne sholden nat wexen proude by longe welefulnesse. Others suffer great adversities that their virtues may be exercised, and strengthened by the practice of patience. and oþer folk he suffreþ to ben 4032 trauayled wiþ harde þinges. ¶ For þat þei sholden conferme þe vertues of corage by þe vsage and exercitacioun of pacience. Some fear to be afflicted with what they are able to endure. Others despise what they are unable to bear; and God punishes them with calamities, to make them sensible of their presumption. and oþer folke dreden more þen þei auȝten þe wiche þei myȝt[en] wel beren. and þilke folk god 4036 lediþ in to experience of hem self by aspre and sorweful þinges. Many have purchased a great name by a glorious death. ¶ And many oþer folk han bouȝt honorable renoune of þis worlde by þe pris of glorious deeþ. Others by their unshaken fortitude, have shown that virtue cannot be overcome by adversity. and som men þat ne mowen nat ben ouer-comen by 4040 tourment han ȝeuen ensample to oþer folk þat vertue ne may nat be ouer-comen by aduersites.

These things are done justly, and in order, and are for the good of those to whom they happen. ¶ and of alle þise þinges þer nis no doute þat þei ne ben don ryȝtfully and ordeinly to þe profit of hem to whom we 4044 seen þise þinges bitide. From the same causes it happens, that sometimes adversity and sometimes prosperity falls to the lot of the wicked. ¶ For certys þat aduersite comeþ some tyme to shrewes. and some tyme þat þei desiren it comeþ of þise forseide causes None are surprised to see bad men afflicted—they get what they deserve. and of sorweful þinges þat bytyden to shrewes. Certys no man ne 4048 wondreþ. For alle men wenen þat þei han wel deserued it. Their punishment, too, may cause amendment, or deter others from like vices. and þei ben of wicked merite of whiche shrewes þe tourment som tyme agasteþ oþer to done folies. and som tyme it amendeþ hem þat suffren þe 4052 tourmentis. When the wicked enjoy felicity—the good should learn how little these external advantages are to be prized, which may fall to the lot of the most worthless. ¶ And þe prosperite þat is ȝeuen to shrewes sheweþ a grete argument to good[e] folk what þing þei sholde demen of þilk wilfulnesse þe whiche prosperite men seen ofte serue to shrewes. Another reason for dispensing worldly bliss to the wicked is, that indigence would prompt naturally violent and rapacious minds to commit the greatest enormities. in þe whiche 4056 þing I trowe þat god dispensiþ. for perauenture þe nature of som man is so ouerþrowyng to yuel and so vncouenable þat þe nedy pouerte of hys house-hold myȝt[e] raþer egren hym to done felonies. Their disease God cures by the medicine of money. and to þe maladie 4060 of hym god puttiþ remedie to ȝiuen hym rychesse. Some men will cease to do wrong for fear, lest their wealth be lost through their crimes. and som oþer man byholdiþ hys conscience defouled wiþ synnes and makiþ comparisoun of his fortune and of hym self ¶ and drediþ perauenture þat hys blisfulnesse 4064 of whiche þe vsage is ioyful to hym þat þe lesynge of þilke blisfulnesse ne be nat sorweful to hym. and þerfore he wol chaunge hys maneres. and for he drediþ to lese hys fortune. he forletiþ hys wickednesse. Upon others unmerited happiness is conferred, which at last precipitates them into deserved destruction. to 4068 oþer folk is welefulnesse yȝeuen vnworþily þe whiche ouerþroweþ hem in to destruccioun þat þei han deserued. To some there is given the power of chastisement, in order both to exercise the virtues of the good and to punish the wicked. and to som oþer folk is ȝeuen power to punissen. for þat it shal be cause of continuacioun and 4072 exercisinge to good[e] folk. and cause of tourment to shrewes. For as there is no alliance between good and bad, so neither can the vicious agree together. ¶ For so as þer nis none alyaunce bytwixe good[e] folke and shrewes. ne shrewes ne mowen nat accorden amonges hem self And how should they? Their vices make them at war with themselves, rending and tearing their consciences, and there is scarce anything they do, but what afterwards they disapprove of. and whi nat. for shrewes 4076 discorden of hem self by her vices þe whiche vices al to renden her consciences. and don oft[e] tyme þinges þe whiche þinges whan þei han don hem. þei demen þat þo þinges ne sholde nat han ben don. Hence arises a signal miracle brought about by Providence—that evil men have often made wicked men good. for whiche þinge 4080 þilke souereyne purueaunce haþ maked oft[e] tyme [faire] miracle so þat shrewes han maked oftyme shrewes to ben good[e] men. For these latter having suffered injuries from the former, have become virtuous, in order that they might not resemble those whom they so detested. for whan þat som shrewes [* fol. 32.] *seen þat þei suffren wrongfully felonies of oþer shrewes 4084 þei wexen eschaufed in to hat[e] of hem þat anoien hem. and retournen to þe fruit of uertue. when þei studien to ben vnlyke to hem þat þei han hated.

It is only the Divine power that can turn evil to good, overruling it for his own purposes. ¶ Certys þis only is þe deuyne myȝt to þe whiche myȝt 4088 yueles ben þan good. whan it vseþ þo yueles couenably and draweþ out þe effect of any good. as who seiþ þat yuel is good oonly by þe myȝt of god. for þe myȝt of god ordeyneþ þilk yuel to good. For oon ordre enbrasiþ 4092 alle þinges. so þat what wyȝt [þat] departiþ fro þe resoun of þe ordre whiche þat is assigned to hym. algates ȝit he slideþ in to an oþer ordre. Nothing occurs by the caprice of chance in the realms of Divine Providence. so þat noþing nis leueful to folye in þe realme of þe deuyne purueaunce. 4096 as who seiþ no þing nis wiþouten ordinaunce in þe realme of þe deuyne purueaunce. Since God is the governor of all things, it is not lawful to man to attempt to comprehend the whole of the Divine economy, or to explain it in words. ¶ Syn þat þe ryȝt strong[e] god gouerniþ alle þinges in þis worlde for it nis nat leueful to no man to comprehenden by witte ne 4100 vnfolden by worde alle þe subtil ordinaunces and disposiciouns of þe deuyne entent. Let it suffice to know that God orders all things for the best. for oonly it auȝt[e] suffice to han loked þat god hym self makere of alle natures ordeyniþ and dressiþ alle þinges to good. And while he retains things created after his own likeness conformably to his goodness, he banishes evil by the cause of destiny out of his empire. while 4104 þat he hastiþ to wiþhalden þe þinges þat he haþ maked in to hys semblaunce. þat is to seyn forto wiþholden þinges in to good. for he hym self is good he chaseþ oute al yuel of þe boundes of hys communalite by þe 4108 ordre of necessite destinable. So that those evils which you seem to see are only imaginary. For whiche it folweþ þat yif þou loke þe purueaunce ordeynynge þe þinges þat men wenen ben haboundaunt in erþes. þou ne shalt not seen in no place no þing of yuel. But you are exhausted and weary with the prolixity of my reasoning, and look for relief from the harmony of my verse. ¶ but I se now þat 4112 þou art charged wiþ þe weyȝte of þe questiou[n] and wery wiþ lengþe of my resoun. and þat þou abidest som swetnesse of songe. Take, then, this draught, with which when refreshed, you may more strongly proceed to higher matters. tak þan þis drauȝt and whan þou art wel refresshed and refet þou shalt ben more stedfast 4116 to stye in to heyere questiouns.

Yif þou wolt If thou wouldst explore the laws of the high Thunderer, behold the lofty heavens, where, bound by fixed laws, the stars keep their ancient peace. demen in þi pure þouȝt þe ryȝtes or þe lawes of þe heye þund[ere]re. þat is to seyne of god. loke þou and bihold þe heyȝtes of souereyne heuene. 4120 ¶ þere kepen þe sterres by ryȝtful alliaunce of þinges hir olde pees. There the rosy Sun does not invade the moon’s colder sphere. Nor doth the Bear stray from his appointed bounds, to quench his light in the western main. þe sonne ymoeued by hys rody fire. ne destourbiþ nat þe colde cercle of þe moone. ¶ Ne þe sterre yclepid þe bere. þat encliniþ hys rauyssynge 4124 courses abouten þe souereyne heyȝt of þe worlde. ne þe same sterre vrsa nis neuer mo wasshen in þe depe westerne see. ne coueitiþ nat to dyȝen hys flaumbes in þe see of [the] occian. al þouȝ he see oþer sterres yplounged 4128 in to þe see. Vesper always makes its wonted appearance at eve. Lucifer ushers in the morn. ¶ And hesperus þe sterre bodiþ and telliþ alwey þe late nyȝtes. And lucifer þe sterre bryngeþ aȝeyne þe clere day. So mutual love moves all things, and from the starry region banishes all strife. ¶ And þus makiþ loue enterchaungeable þe perdurable courses. and þus 4132 is discordable bataile yput oute of þe contre of þe sterres. This concord in equal measures tempers the elements, so that the moist atoms war no more with the dry, nor heat with cold contends; but the aspiring flame soars aloft, while down the heavy earth descends. þis accordaunce attempreþ by euene-lyke manere[s] þe elementes. þat þe moyste þinges striuen nat wiþ þe drye þinges. but ȝiuen place by stoundes. and þat þe 4136 colde þinges ioynen hem by feiþ to þe hote þinges. and þat þe lyȝt[e] fyre arist in to heyȝte. and þe heuy erþes aualen by her weyȝtes. By these same causes the flowing year yields sweet smells in the warm spring-tide; the hot summer ripens the corn. ¶ by þise same cause þe floury yere ȝeldeþ swote smellys in þe fyrste somer sesoun 4140 warmynge. and þe hote somer dryeþ þe cornes. Autumn comes crowned with plenty, and winter wets the earth with showers. and autumpne comeþ aȝeyne heuy of apples. and þe fletyng reyne bydeweþ þe wynter. þis attemperaunce noryssiþ and brynggeþ furþe al þinge þat brediþ lyfe in þis 4144 worlde. These changes give life and growth to all that breathe; and at last by death efface whatever has had birth. ¶ and þilk same attemperaunce rauyssyng hideþ [* fol. 32 b.] and bynymeþ and drencheþ vndir þe last[e] deþe alle *þinges yborn. Meanwhile the world’s Creator, the Source of all, the Lawgiver, the wise Judge, sits above equitably directing all things. ¶ Amonges þise þinges sitteþ þe heye makere kyng and lorde. welle and bygynnynge. lawe 4148 and wise Iuge. to don equite and gouerniþ and encliniþ þe bridles of þinges. Those things which have been set in motion by him are also checked and forced to move in an endless round, lest they go from their source, and become chaotic. and þo þinges þat he stireþ to don by moeuynge he wiþdraweþ and arestiþ and affermiþ þe moeueable or wandryng þinges. ¶ For ȝif þat he ne 4152 clepiþ nat aȝein þe ryȝt goynge of þinges. and ȝif þat he ne constreyned[e] hem nat eftesones in to roundenesse enclined þe þinges þat ben now continued by stable ordinaunce. þei sholde deperten from hir welle. þat is 4156 to sein from hir bygynnynge and failen. þat is to sein tournen in to nauȝt. This love is common to all things, and all things tend to good; so, urged by this, they all revert to that First Cause that gave them being. ¶ þis is þe commune loue of alle þinges. and alle þinges axen to be holden by þe fyn of good. For ellys ne myȝten þei nat lasten yif þei ne 4160 come nat eftesones aȝeine by loue retourned to þe cause þat haþ ȝeuen hem beynge. þat is to seyn to god.