Front matter

Passus Decimus Quartus, etc.

" 8900 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 by-molen it many tyme, Maugree my chekes. It hath be laved in Lente 8910 And out of Lente bothe, With the sope of siknesse, That seketh wonder depe, And with the losse of catel, Looth for to a-gulte God of any good man, By aught that I wiste; And was shryven of the preest That gaf me for my synnes To penaunce pacience 8920 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 8930 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 contritio, etc. Do-wel shal wasshen and wryngen it Thorugh a wis confessour. Oris confessio, etc. Do-bet shal beten it and bouken it 8940 As bright as any scarlet, And engreyven it with good wille And Goddes grace to amende the, And sithen sende thee to satisfaccion For to sowen it after. Satisfactio Do-best.

"Shal nevere cheeste by-molen it, Ne mothe after biten it, Ne fend ne fals man Defoulen it in thi lyve. 8950 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 Haukyns wif the wafrer, With his activa vita."

"And I shal purveie thee paast," quod Pacience, "Though no plough erye, 8960 And flour to fede folk with As best be for the soule, Though nevere greyn growed, Ne grape upon vyne. To alle that lyveth and loketh Liflode wolde I fynde, And that y-nogh shal noon faille Of thyng that hem nedeth, We sholde noght be to bisy Abouten oure liflode," 8970 Ne solliciti sitis, etc. Volucres cœli Deus pascit, etc. Patientes vincunt.

Thanne laughed Haukyn a litel, And lightly gan swerye, "Who so 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 8980 For alle manere beestes, And seide, "Lo here liflode y-nogh! If oure bileve be trewe. For lent nevere was lif, But liflode were shapen, Wher-of or wher-fore Or wher-by to libbe.

"First the wilde worm Under weet erthe, Fissh to lyve in the flood, 8990 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." Quodcunque petieritis a patre in 9000 nomine meo, etc. Et alibi: Non in solo pane vivit homo, sed 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 pater-noster, Fiat voluntas tua.

"Have, Haukyn," quod Pacience, "And et this whan the hungreth, 9010 Or whan thow clomsest for cold, Or clyngest for drye; Shul nevere gyves thee greve, Ne gret lordes wrathe, Prison ne peyne; For patientes vincunt. By so that thow be sobre Of sighte and of tonge, In etynge and in handlynge, And in alle thi fyve wittes, 9020 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 lyve after his loore, The shorter lif the bettre. Si quis amat Christum, Mundum non diliget istum.

9030 "For thorugh his breeth beestes woxen And a-brood yeden. Dixit et facta sunt, etc. Ergo thorugh his breeth mowen Men and beestes lyven, As holy writ witnesseth, Whan men seye hir graces. Aperis tu manum tuam, et imples omne animal benedictione.

"It is founden that fourty wynter 9040 Folk lyvede withouten tulying; And out of the flynt sprong the flood That folk and beestes dronken; And in Elyes tyme Hevene was y-closed, That no reyn ne roon; 9046 Thus rede men in bokes That many wyntres men lyveden, And no mete ne tulieden.

"Sevene slepe, as seith the book, Sevene hundred wynter, And lyveden withouten liflode, 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.

9056 "Ac unkyndenesse caristiam maketh Amonges cristen peple; And over plentee maketh pryde Amonges poore and riche. 9060 Therfore mesure is 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. Otiositas et abundantia panis peccatum turpissimum nutrivit. For thei mesured noght hemself Of that thei ete and dronke, 9070 Thei diden dedly synne That the devel liked, So vengeaunce fil upon hem For hir vile synnes; Thei sonken into helle, The citees echone.

"For-thi mesure we us wel, And make oure feith oure sheltrom; And thorugh feith cometh contricion, Conscience woot wel, 9080 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; For so that feith bere witnesse, That whiles he lyvede, he bilevede In the loore of the holy chirche. Ergo contricion, feith, and conscience Is kyndeliche Do-wel, 9090 And surgiens for dedly synnes Whan shrift of mouthe failleth. Ac shrift of mouth moore worthi is, If man be y-liche 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 down Into a venial synne, 9100 As David seith in the Sauter, Et quorum tecta sunt peccata; Ac satisfaccion seketh out the roote, And bothe sleeth and voideth, An as it nevere hadde y-be To noghte bryngeth dedly synne, That it nevere eft is sene ne soor, But semeth a wounde y-heeled."

"Where wonyeth Charité?" quod Haukyn, "I wiste nevere in my lyve 9110 Man that with hym spak, As wide as I have passed."

"Ther parfit truthe and poore herte is, And pacience of tonge, Ther is Charité the chief chaumbrere For God hymselve."

"Wheither paciente poverte," quod Haukyn, "Be moore plesaunt to our Drighte Than richesse rightfulliche wonne, And resonably despended?"

9120 "Ye, quis est ille?" 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. 9130 Ther the poore dar plede, And preve by pure reson, To have allowance 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; 9140 And makest hem wel neigh meke, And mylde for defaute; And after thow sendest hem somer, That is hir sovereyn joye, And blisse to alle that ben, Bothe wilde and tame.'

"Thanne may beggeris as beestes After boote waiten, That al hir lif han lyved In langour and in defaute, 9150 But God sente hem som tyme Som manere joye Outher here or ellis where, 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 the deyntees lyvede, And in douce vie. 9160 Right so reson sheweth That the men that were riche, And hir makes also, Lyvede hir lif in murthe.

"Ac God is of wonder wille, By that kynde wit sheweth, To gyve many man his mede Er he it have deserved. Right so fareth God by some riche, Ruthe me it thynketh; 9170 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 nihil invenerunt. And in another stede also: Velut somnium surgentium, Domine, in civitate tua, et ad nihilum 9180 rediges, etc.

"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 evere moore nedy; And selden deyeth he out of dette, That dyneth er he deserve it, And til he have doon his devoir 9190 And his dayes journée. For whan a werkman hath wroght, Than many 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 dwellyng, 9200 And hevene also therafter; Right so 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: Væ! deliciis ad delicias difficile est transire.

"Ac if ye riche have ruthe, 9210 And rewarde wel the poore, And lyven as lawe techeth, And doon leauté 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 9220 Men dooth hym oother bountee, Gyveth hym a cote above his covenaunt, Right so Crist gyveth 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 y-seien, 9230 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 Bred-lees thei slepe. And yet is wynter for hem worse, For weet shoed thei gone, A-furst soore and a-fyngred, 9244 And foule y-rebuked, And a-rated 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 y-liche witty and wise, If thee wel hadde liked. 9254 But, Lord, 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. 9260 For may no derthe be hem deere, Droghte ne weet hem greve, 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 9270 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 richesse; For how thow confortest alle creatures, Clerkes bereth witnesse: 9280 Convertimini ad me, et salvi eritis.

"Thus in genere of gentries Jhesu Crist seide, To robberis and to reveris, To riche and to poore, Thou taughtest hem in the Trinité To taken bapteme, And to be clene through that cristnyng Of alle kynnes synne; And if us fille thorugh folie 9290 To falle in synne after, Confession and knowlichynge In cravynge thi mercy, Shulde amenden us as manye sithes As man wolde desire. And if the pope wolde plede ayein, And punysshe us in conscience, He sholde take the acquitaunce as quyk, And to the queed shewen it. Pateat, etc. per passionem Domini. 9300 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 parchemym decourreth, And principalliche of al the peple, But thei be poore of herte; 9310 Ellis is al on ydel, Al that evere writen Pater-nostres and penaunce, And pilgrymages to Rome; But oure spences and spendynge Sprynge of a trewe wille, Ellis is al our labour lost, Lo! how men writeth In fenestres at the freres, If fals be the foundement. 9320 For-thi 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 that ribaud He rathest men bigileth. For ther that richesse regneth, Reverence folweth; 9330 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 peraventure kan moore Of wit and of wisdom, That fer awey is bettre Than richesse or reautee, And rather y-herd in hevene. 9340 For the riche hath muche to rekene; And many tyme hym that walketh The heighe wey to hevene-ward, Richesse hym letteth,— Ita inpossibile diviti, etc.— Ther the poore preesseth bifore the riche, With a pak at his rugge,— Opera enim illorum sequuntur illos.— Batauntliche, as beggeris doon, And boldeliche he craveth, 9350 For his poverte and his pacience, A perpetuel blisse. Beati pauperes, quoniam ipsorum est regnum cælorum.

"And pride in richesse regneth Rather than in poverte; Arst in the master than in the man Som mansion he haveth. Ac in poverte, ther pacience is, Pride hath no myghte, 9360 Ne none of the sevene synnes Sitten ne mowe ther longe, Ne have power in poverte, If pacience folwe. For the poore is ay prest To plese the riche, And buxom at hise biddynges, For his broke loves; And boxomnesse and boost Arn evere moore at werre, 9370 And either hateth oother In alle maner werkes.

"If wrathe wrastle with the poore, He hath the worse ende; And if thei bothe pleyne, The poore is but feble; And if he chide or chatre, Hym cheveth the worse.

"And if coveitise cacche the poore, Thei may noght come togideres; 9380 And by the nekke namely Hir noon may hente oother. For men knowen wel that coveitise Is of kene wille, And hath hondes and armes Of ful greet 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.

9390 "And though avarice wolde angre the poore, He hath but litel myghte; For poverte hath but pokes To putten in hise goodes, Ther avarice hath almaries, And yren bounden cofres. And wheither be lighter to breke, And lasse boost maketh, A beggeris bagge Than an yren bounde cofre?

9400 "Lecherie loveth hym noght, For he gyveth but litel silver, Ne dooth hym noght dyne delicatly, Ne drynke wyn ofte. A straw for the stuwes! Thei stoode noght, I trowe, Hadde thei no thyng but of poore men, Hir houses stoode untyled.

"And though sleuthe suwe poverte, And serve noght God to paie, 9410 Meschief is his maister, And maketh hym to thynke That God is his grettest help, And no gome ellis; And he is 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. 9420 For-thi every poore that pacient is, May cleymen and asken After hir endynge here Hevene riche 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, Any lyveth as a beggere; 9430 And as a mayde for mannes love Hire moder forsaketh, Hir fader and alle hire frendes, And folweth hir make. Muche moore is to love Of hym that swich oon taketh, Than is that maiden That is maried thorugh brocage, As by assent of sondry parties, And silver to boote, 9440 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 to hise seintes."

"Have God my trouthe!" quod Haukyn, "Ye preise faste poverte, 9450 What is poverte with pacience," quod he; "Proprely to mene?" "Paupertas," quod Pacience, "est odibile bonum, remotio curarum, possessio sine calumnia, donum Dei, sanitatis mater, absque sollicitudine semita, sapientiæ temperatrix, negotium sine damno, incerta fortuna, absque sollicitudine 9460 felicitas."

"I kan noght construe al this," quod Haukyn, "Ye moste kenne me this on Englissh."

"In Englissh," quod Pacience, "It is wel hard wel to expounen; Ac som deel I shal seyen it, By so thow understonde: Poverte is the firste point That pride moost hateth; Thanne is it good by good skile, 9470 Al that agasteth pride. Right as contricion is confortable thyng, Conscience woot wel, And a sorwe of hymself, And a solace to the soule, So poverte propreliche, Penaunce and joye, Is to the body Pure spiritual helthe. Ergo paupertas est odibile bonum. 9480 And contricion confort, And cura animarum.

"Selde sit poverte, The sothe to declare; For as justice to jugge men, Enjoyned is no poore, Ne to be mair above men Ne mynystre under kynges; Selde is any poore y-put To punysshen any peple. 9490 Remotio curarum. Ergo poverte and poore men Perfournen the comaundement, Nolite judicare Quemquam the thridde,"

"Selde is any poore riche, But of rightful heritage; Wynneth he noght with wightes false, Ne with unseled mesures, Ne borweth of hise neighebores, 9500 But that he may wel paie. Possessio sine calumnia.

"The ferthe is a fortune 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 gifte. 9510 Donum Dei.

"The fifte is moder of helthe, A frend in alle fondynges, And for the land evere a leche, A lemman of alle clennesse. Sanitatis mater.

"The sixte is a path of pees, Ye, thorugh the paas of Aultone Poverte myghte passe Withouten peril of robbyng. 9520 For ther that poverte passeth, Pees folweth after; And ever the lasse that he bereth, The hardier he is of herte. For-thi seith Seneca, = Paupertas est absque sollicitudine semita And an hardy man of herte, Among an heep of theves. Cantabit paupertas coram latrone 9530 viatore.

"The seventhe is welle of wisedom, And fewe wordes sheweth; Therfore lordes alloweth hym litel, Or listneth to his reson, For he tempreth the tonge to trutheward, And no tresor coveiteth Sapientiæ temperatrix.

"The eightethe is a lele labour, And looth to take moore 9540 Than he may wel deserve, In somer or in wynter. And if he chaffareth, he chargeth no losse, Mowe he charité wynne. Negotium sine damno.

"The nynthe is swete to the soule, No sugre is swetter. For pacience is payn For poverte hymselve, And sobretee swete drynke 9550 And good leche in siknesse. Thus lered me a lettred man, For oure Lordes love of hevene; Seint Austyn a blessed lif Withouten bisynesse ladde For body and for soule, Absque sollicitudine felicitas. Now God, that alle good gyveth, Graunte his soule reste That this first wroot to wissen men 9560 What poverte was to mene!"

"Allas!" quod Haukyn the actif man tho, "That after my cristendom I ne hadde be deed and dolven For Do-welis sake! So hard it is," quod Haukyn, "To lyve and to do no synne. Synne seweth us evere," quod he, And sory gan wexe, And wepte water with hise eighen, 9570 And weyled the tyme That he evere dide dede That deere God displesed; Swound and sobbed And siked ful ofte, That evere he hadde lond outher lordshipe, Lasse other moore, Or maistrie over any man Mo than of hymselve. "I were noght worthi, woot God!" quod Haukyn, 9580 "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; 9586 And therwith I awakede.

Passus Decimus Quintus, etc. finit Do-wel, et incipit Do-bet.

9587 C after my wakynge, It was wonder longe Er I koude kyndely Knowe what was Do-wel. And so my wit weex and wanyed, Til I a fool weere; And some lakkede my lif, Allowed it fewe, And lete me for a lorel, And looth to reverencen Lordes or ladies, Or any lif ellis; As persons in pelure, 9600 With pendauntz of silver; To sergeauntz ne to swiche Seide I 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 a-slepe, Til I seigh, as it sorcerie were, 9610 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 Anoon me to tellen.

"I am Cristes creature," quod he, "And cristene in many a place, In Cristes court y-knowe wel, 9620 And of his kyn a party. Is neither Peter the porter, Nor Poul with his fauchon, That wole defende me the dore, Dynge I never so late; At mydnyght, at mydday, My vois so is knowe, That ech a creature of his court Welcometh me faire."

"What are ye called," quod I, "in that court, 9630 Among Cristes peple?"

"The whiles I quikne the cors," quod he, "Called am I Anima; And whan I wilne and wolde, Animus ich hatte; And for that I kan knowe, Called am I Mens; And whan I make mone to God, Memoria is my name; And whan I deme domes, 9640 And do as truthe techeth, Thanne is Ratio my righte name, Reson on Englisshe; 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 Conscience y-called, 9650 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 flesshe, And forsake the careyne, Thanne am I a spirit specheless, Spiritus thanne iche hatte. Austyn and Ysodorus, 9660 Either of hem bothe, Nempnede me thus to name, And now thow myght chese How thow coveitest to calle me, For now thow knowest my names." Anima pro diversis actionibus diversa nomina sortitur; dum vivificat corpus, anima est; dum vult, animus est; dum scit, mens est; dum recolit, 9670 memoria est; dum judicat, ratio est; dum sentit, sensus est; dum amat, amor est; dum negat vel consentit, conscientia est; dum spirat, spiritus est. "Ye ben as a bisshope," quod I, Al bourdynge that tyme; "For bisshopes y-blessed, Thei bereth manye names, 9680 Præsul 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 my names, And of me, if thow myghtest, Me thynketh by thi speche."

9690 "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." 9700 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 9710 qui scrutator est majestatis, 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 double scathe. 9720 Beatus est, seith seint Bernard, Qui scripturas legit, Et verba vertit in opera Fulliche to his power. Coveitise to konne And to knowe sciences, Putte out of Paradis Adam and Eve. Scientiæ appetitus hominem inmortalitatis gloria spoliavit.

9730 "And right as hony is yvel to defie, And engleymeth the mawe; Right so he 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

9742 "Freres and fele othere maistres, That to lewed men prechen, Ye moeven materes unmesurable To tellen of the Trinité, That ofte tymes the lewed peple Of hir bileve doute. Bettre it were to manye doctours To leven swich techyng, 9750 And tellen men of the ten comaundmentz, And touchen the sevene synnes, And of the braunches that burjoneth of hem, And bryngen men to helle, And how that folk in folies Misspenden hir fyve wittes, As wel freres as oother folk Foliliche spenden In housynge, in haterynge, And in to heigh clergie shewynge, 9760 Moore for pompe than for pure charité, 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 quæritis mendacium.

9770 "Gooth to the glose of thise 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 avarouse chapmen; And louten to thise lordes That mowen lene yow nobles, 9780 Ayein youre rule and religion, I take record at Jhesus, That seide to hise disciples, Ne sitis personarum acceptores. 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 who so liketh.

9790 "As holynesse and honesté Out of holy chirche spredeth Thorugh lele libbynge men That Goddes lawe techen; Right so out of holi chirche Alle yveles spryngeth, There inparfit preesthode is, Prechours and techeris. I se it by ensaunple In somer tyme on trowes: 9800 Ther some bowes ben leved, And some bereth none, Ther is a meschief in the morre Of swiche manere bowes.

"Rightso bi persons and preestes, And prechours of holi chirche, That aren roote of the right feith To rule the peple. And ther the roote is roten, Reson woot the sothe, 9810 Shal nevere flour ne fruyt Ne fair leef be greene. For-thi 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 noght to underfonge 9820 Tithes, but of trewe thyng, Y-tilied or chaffared; Lothe were lewed men, But thei youre loore folwede, And amendeden hem that mysdoon Moore for youre ensaumples, Than for to prechen and preven it noght, Ypocrisie it semeth; The which in Latyn Is likned to a dongehill 9830 That were bi-snewed with snow, And snakes withinne; Or to a wal that were whit-lymed, And were foul withinne;

"Right so manye preestes, Prechours and prelates, Ye aren enblaunched with bele paroles, And with clothes also; Ac youre werkes and youre wordes ther under, Aren ful unloveliche. 9840 Johannes Crisostomus Of clerkes speketh and preestes; Sicut de templo omne bonum progreditur, sic de templo omne malum procedit. Si sacerdotium integrum fuerit, tota floret ecclesia: si autem corruptum fuerit, omnis fides marcida est. Si sacerdotium fuerit in peccatis, totus populus 9850 convertitur ad peccandum. Sicut cum videris arborem pallidam et marcidam, intelligis quod vitium habet in radice. Ita cum videris populum indisciplinatum et irreligiosum, sine dubio sacerdotium ejus non est sanum.

"If lewed men wiste What this Latyn meneth, 9860 And who was myn auctour, Muche wonder me thinketh, But if many a 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 over gilte; 9870 Ac a porthors that sholde be his plow Placebo to sigge, Hadde he nevere service to save 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, 9880 The whiche arn preestes inparfite, And prechours after silver, Executours and sodenes, Somonours and hir lemmannes; That that with gile was geten, Ungraciousliche is despended; So harlotes and hores Arn holpe with swiche goodes, And Goddes folk, for defaute therof, For-faren and spillen.

9890 "Curatours of holy kirke, As clerkes that ben avarouse, Lightliche that thei leven, Losels it habbeth, Or deieth intestate, And thanne the bisshope entreth And maketh murthe thermyd, And hise men bothe, And seyen he was a nygard That no good myghte aspare 9900 To frend ne to fremmed, The fend have his soule! For a wrecchede hous held he Al his lif tyme; And that he spared and bisperede, Dispende we in murthe; By lered, by lewed, That looth is to despende. Thus goon hire goodes. Be the goost faren. 9910 Ac for goode men, God woot! Greet doel men maken, And bymeneth goode mete gyveres, And in mynde haveth, In preieres and in penaunces, And in parfit charité."

"What is charité?" quod I tho. "A childisshe thyng," he seide. "Nisi efficiamini parvuli, non intrabitis in regnum cælorum. 9920 Withouten fauntelté or folie, A fre liberal wille."

"Where sholde men fynde swich a frend, With so fre an herte?" "I have lyved in londe," quod he, "My name is Longe-wille; And fond I nevere ful charité Byfore ne bihynde. Men beth merciable To mendinauntz and to poore, 9930 And wollen lene ther thei leve Lelly to ben paied. Ac charité that Poul preiseth best, And moost plesaunt to oure Lord, Is Non inflatur, non est ambitiosa, non quærit quæ sua sunt, etc.

"I seigh nevere swich a man, So me God helpe! That he ne wolde aske after his, And outher while coveite 9940 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: In ænigmate tunc facie ad faciem. And so I trowe trewely, By that men telleth of charité, It is noght chaumpions fight, 9950 Ne chaffare, as I trowe,

"Charité," 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, Or of trie scarlet. He is glad with alle glade, 9960 And good til alle wikkede, And leveth 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 9970 In myldenesse he suffreth. Coveiteth he noon erthely good, But hevene riche blisse, Hath he anye rentes or richesse, Or anye riche frendes.

"Of rentes nor of richesse Ne rekketh he nevere; For a frend that fyndeth hym, Failed hym nevere at neede. Fiat voluntas tua 9980 Fynt hym evere moore; And if he soupeth, eteth but a sop Of spera in Deo. He kan portreye wel the paternoster, And peynte it with aves; And outher while he is woned To wenden on pilgrymages, Ther poore men and prisons liggeth, Hir pardon to have. Though he bere hem no breed, 9990 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 lavendrye Wel the lengthe of a mile, And yerne into youthe, And yepeliche speke Pride with al the appurtenaunces, 10000 And pakken hem togideres, And bouken hem at his brest, And beten hem clene, And leggen on longe, With laboravi in gemitu meo; And with warm water at hise eighen Wasshen hem after. And thanne he syngeth whan he doth so, And som tyme seith wepynge, Cor contritum et humiliatum, Deus, 10010 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 10020 Parceyveth moore depper What is the wille and wherfore That many wight suffreth. Et vidit Deus cogitationes 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, 10030 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 ful holy; Ac it is moore to have hir mete With swich an esy manere, Than for penaunce and perfitnesse, The poverte that swiche taketh.

10040 "Therfore by colour ne by clergie Knowe shaltow nevere, Neither thorugh wordes ne werkes, But thorugh wil oone. And that knoweth no clerk, Ne creature on erthe, But Piers the Plowman Petrus, i. Christus. For he nys noght in lolleris, Ne in lond leperis heremytes, 10050 Ne at ancres there a box hangeth, Alle swiche thei faiten. Fy on faitours, And in fautores suos! For charité 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, 10060 And is compaignable and confortatif, As Crist bit hymselve. Nolite fieri sicut hypocritæ tristes, etc. 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.

"Edmond and Edward 10070 Bothe were kynges, And seintes y-set, For charité hem folwede.

"I have y-seyen charité also Syngen and reden, Riden and rennen In raggede wedes; Ac biddynge as beggeris Biheld I hym nevere. Ac in riche robes 10080 Rathest he walketh, Y-called and y-crymyled, And his crowne y-shave; And in a freres frokke He was y-founden ones, Ac it is fern ago, In seint Fraunceis tyme: In that secte siththe To selde hath he ben founde.

"Riche men he recomendeth, 10090 And of hir robes taketh, That withouten wiles Ledeth hir lyves. Beatus est dives qui, etc.

"In kynges court he cometh ofte, Ther the counseil is trewe; Ac if coveitise be of the counseil, He wolnoght come therinne,

"In court amonges japeris He cometh noght but selde, 10100 For braulynge and bakbitynge, And berynge of fals witnesse.

"In the consistorie bifore the commissarie He cometh noght but ofte; For hir lawe dureth over longe, But if thei lacchen silver, And matrimoyne for moneie Maken and unmaken; And that conscience and Crist Hath y-knyt faste, 10110 Thei undoon it unworthily, Tho doctours of lawe.

"Ac I ne lakke no lif, But, Lord, amende us alle, And gyve us grace, good God, Charité to folwe. For who so myghte meete myd hym, Swiche maneres hym eileth, Neither he blameth ne banneth, Bosteth ne preiseth, 10120 Lakketh ne loseth, Ne loketh up sterne, Craveth ne coveiteth, Ne crieth after moore. In pace in idipsum dormiam, etc.

"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, 10130 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, 10140 That is oure fadres wille.

"For wel may every man wite, If God hadde wold hymselve, Sholde nevere Judas ne Jew Have Jhesu doon on roode, Ne han martired Peter ne Poul, Ne in prison holden. Ac he suffrede in ensample That we sholde suffren also, And seide to swiche that suffre wolde, 10150 That patientes vincunt.

"Verbi gratia," quod he, "And verray 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, 10160 And othere holy fadres, Woneden in wildernesse Among wilde beestes; Monkes and mendinauntz, 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 10170 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, 10180 As seith the book and techeth.

"Antony a dayes, 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 10190 For mosse and for leves; Foweles hym fedde Fele wyntres withalle, Til he foundede freres Of Austynes ordre. Poul, after his prechyng, Paniers he made, And wan with hise hondes That his wombe neded.

"Peter fisshed for his foode, 10200 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 10210 Many longe yeres.

"Ac ther ne was leon ne leopard That on laundes wenten, Neither bere ne boor, Ne oother beest wilde, That ne fil to hir feet, And fawned with the taillies; And if thei kouthe han y-carped, By Crist! as I trowe, Thei wolde have y-fed that folk 10220 Bifore wild foweles. Ac God sente hem foode by foweles, And by no fierse beestes, In menynge that meke thyng Mylde thyng sholde fede.

"Ac who seith religiouses Rightfulle men sholde fede, And lawefulle men to lif-holy men Liflode sholde brynge; And thanne wolde lordes and ladies 10230 Be looth to agulte, And to taken of hir tenauntz Moore than trouthe wolde, Foulde thei that freres Wolde forsake hir almesses, And bidden hem bere it There it was y-borwed. For we ben Goddes foweles, And abiden alwey Til briddes brynge us 10240 That we sholde lyve by. For hadde ye potage and payn y-nogh, And peny ale to drynke, And a mees thermyd Of o maner kynde, Ye hadde right y-nogh, ye religiouse, And so youre rule me tolde. Nunquam, dicit Job, rugit onager cum herbam habuerit, aut mugiet bos cum ante plenum præsepe 10250 steterit. Brutorum animalium natura te condemnat, 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 to monkes Or chanons hir rente. 10260 Allas! lordes and ladies, Lewed counseil have ye, To gyve from youre heires That youre aiels yow lefte, And gyveth it to bidde for yow Fo swiche that ben riche, And ben founded and feffed ek To bidde for othere.

"Who perfourneth this prophecie Of the peple that now libbeth? 10270 Dispersit, dedit pauperibus.

"If any peple perfourne that text, It are thise poore freres; For that thei beggen aboute, In buyldynge thei spende it, And on hemself som, And swiche as ben hir laborers; And of hem that habbeth thei taken, And gyveth hem that habbeth.

"Ac clerkes and knyghtes, 10280 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, 10290 And gyveth ther no nede is. As who so filled a toune Of a fressh ryver, And wente forth with that water To woke with Temese; Right so, ye riche, Ye robeth and fedeth Hem that han as ye han, Hem ye make at ese.

"Ac religiouse that riche ben, 10300 Sholde rather feeste beggeris Than burgeises that riche ben, As the book techeth. Quia sacrilegium est res pauperum non pauperibus dare. Item: Peccatoribus dare, est dæmonibus immolare. Item: Monache, si indiges et accipis, potius das quam accipis; si autem non eges et accipis, rapis. 10310 Porro non indiget monachus, si habeat quod naturæ sufficit.

"For-thi I counseille alle cristene To conformen hem to charité, For charité withouten chalangynge Unchargeth the soule, And many a prison fram purgatorie Thorugh his preieres he delivereth. Ac ther is a defaute in the folk That the feith kepeth; 10320 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 now, Thei han a fair speche, Crowne and cristendom, The kynges mark of hevene; 10330 Ac the metal, that is mannes soule, With synne is foule alayed. Bothe lettred and lewed Beth alayed now with synne, That no lif loveth oother, Ne oure Lord, as it semeth. For thorugh werre and wikkede werkes, And wederes unresonable, Weder-wise shipmen, And witty clerkes also, 10340 Han no bileve to the lifte, Ne to the loore of philosofres.

"Astronomiens al day 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, 10350 As of wedres and wyndes Thei warned men ofte.

"Tilieris, that tiled the erthe, Tolden hir maistres, By the seed that thei sewe, What thei selle myghte, And what to lene, and what to lyve by, The lond was so trewe.

"Now faileth the folk of the flood, And of the lond bothe, 10360 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 element The contrarie thei fynde; Grammer, the ground of al, Bigileth now children, 10370 For is noon of this newe clerkes, Who so nymeth hede, 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 Under hym to fourmen, 10380 Muche wonder me thynketh Amonges us alle, Doctours of decrees And of divinité maistres, That sholde konne and knowe Alle kynnes clergie, And answere to argumentz, And also to a quodlibet; I dar noght siggen it for shame, If swiche were apposed, 10390 Thei sholde faillen of her philosophie, And in phisik bothe.

"Wherfore I am a-fered Of folk of holy kirke, Lest thei overhuppen, as oothere doon, In office and in houres; And if they overhuppe, as I hope noght, Oure bileve suffiseth; As clerkes in Corpus Christi feeste Syngen and reden, 10400 That sola fides sufficit To save with lewed peple; And so may Sarzens be saved, Scribes, and Jewes.

"Allas, thanne! but our looresmen Lyve as thei leren us, And for hir lyvynge that lewed men Be the lother God agulten. For Sarzens han somwhat Semynge to oure bileve; 10410 For thei love and bileve In o persone almyghty, And we, lered and lewed, In oon God almyghty; And oon Makometh, a man, In mysbileve broughte Sarzens of Surree, And see in what manere.

"This Makometh was a cristene And for he moste noght ben a pope 10420 Into Surrie he soughte, And thorugh hise sotile wittes He 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 10430 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, 10440 Makometh in mysbileve Men and wommen broughte; That lyved tho there and lyve yit Leeven on hise lawes.

"And siththe oure Saveour suffred, The Sarzens so bigiled Thorugh a cristene clerk, Acorsed in his soule! For drede of the deeth I dare noght telle truthe, 10450 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 the apostles Thorugh hire parfit lyvynge; Wolde nevere the feithful fader That hise ministres sholde 10460 Of tirauntz that teneth trewe men Taken any almesse, But doon as Antony dide, Dominyk and Fraunceys, Beneit and Bernard 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; 10470 And folkes sholden fare, 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, etc. Salt saveth the catel, 10480 Siggen thise wives. Vos estis sal terræ, etc. The hevedes of holy chirche, And thei holy were, Crist calleth hem salt For cristene soules. Et si sal evanuerit in quo salietur, etc.

"For fressh flessh outher fissh, Whan it salt failleth, It is unsavory for sothe, 10490 Y-soden or y-bake; So is mannes soule, soothly, That seeth no goode ensamples 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 gyve hem good evidence.

"Ellevene holy men 10500 Al the world tornede Into lele bileve; The lightloker me thinketh Sholde all 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 10510 Engelond and Walis, Til Gregory garte clerkes To go here and preche; Austyn at Caunterbury Cristnede the kyng, And thorugh miracles, as men now rede, Al that marche he tornede To Crist and to cristendom, And cros to honoure; And follede folk faste, 10520 And the feith taughte, Moore thorugh miracles Than thorugh muche prechyng, As wel thorugh hise werkes As with hise holy wordes, And seide hem what fullynge And feith was to mene.

"Clooth that cometh fro the wevyng Is noght comly to were, Til it be fulled under foot 10530 Or in fullyng stokkes, Wasshen wel with water, And with taseles cracched, Y-touked and y-teynted, And under taillours hande; Right so it fareth by a barn, That born is of a wombe, Til it be cristned in Cristes name, And confermed of the bisshope, It is hethene as to hevene-ward. 10540 And help-lees to the soule. Hethen is to mene after heeth And untiled erthe, As in wilde wildernesse Wexeth wilde beestes, Rude and unresonable, Rennynge withouten cropiers.

"Ye mynnen wel how Mathew seith, How a man made a feste; He fedde him with no venyson, 10550 Ne fesauntz y-bake, 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 10560 The calf norisseth til an oxe; So love and leauté Lele men susteneth, And maidenes and mylde men Mercy desiren, Right as the cow calf Coveiteth melk swete, So doon rightfulle men Mercy and truthe.

"Ac who beth that excuseth hem 10570 That ben 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 Marc, And Memento Domine David.

"What pope or prelat now 10580 Perfourneth that Crist highte. = Ite in universum mundum et prædicate, etc.

"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, 10590 Sithen thei wille have name To be pastours and preche To lyve and to dye. = Bonus pastor animam suam ponit, etc. And seide it in salvacion Of Sarzens and othere, For cristene and uncristene Crist seide to prechours: Ite vos in vineam meam, etc.

10600 "And sith that thise Sarzens, Scribes, and Jewes, Han a lippe of our bileve, The lightlier me thynketh Thei sholde turne, who so travailed To teche hem of the Trinité. Quærite et invenietis, etc.

"It is ruthe to rede How rightwise men lyvede, How thei defouled hir flessh, 10610 Forsoke hir owene wille, Fer fro kyth and fro kyn Yvele y-clothed yeden, Baddely y-bedded, No book but conscience, Ne no richesse but the roode To rejoisse hem inne. Absit nobis gloriari nisi in cruce Domini nostri, etc.

"And tho was plentee and pees 10620 Amonges poore and riche, And now is routhe to rede How the rede noble Is reverenced er the roode, And receyved for worthier Than Cristes cros, that overcam Deeth and dedly synne. And now is werre and wo; And who so why asketh, For coveitise after cros 10630 The croune stant in golde. Bothe riche and religious That roode thei honoure That in grotes is y-grave And in gold nobles. For coveitise of that cros, Men of holy kirke Shul torne as templers dide, The tyme approcheth faste.

"Wite ye noght, ye wise men, 10640 How tho men honoured Moore tresor than trouthe, I dar noght telle the sothe, Reson and rightful doom The religiouse demede.

"Right so, ye clerkes, For youre coveitise, er longe, Shal thei demen dos ecclesiæ, And youre pride depose, Deposuit potentes de sede, etc.

10650 "If knyghthod and kynde wit And the commune by conscience Togideres love leelly, Leveth it wel, ye bisshopes, The lordshipe of youre londes For evere shul ye lese, And lyven as levitici, As oure Lord techeth. Per primitias et decimas, etc.

"Whan Costantyn of curteisie 10660 Holy kirke dowed With londes and ledes, Lordshipes and rentes, An aungel men herden An heigh at Rome crye, Dos ecclesiæ this day Hath y-dronke venym, And tho that han Petres power Arn apoisoned alle.

"A medicyne moot therto, 10670 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 chirches sake, And purgen hem of poison, 10680 Er moore peril falle.

"If preesthode were parfit, The peple sholde amende That contrarien Cristes lawe, And cristendom dispise. For alle paynymes preieth, And parfitly bileveth In the holy grete God, And his grace thei asken, And make hir mone to Makometh 10690 Hir message to shewe. Thus in a feith leve 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, That huppe aboute in Engelond 10700 To halwe mennes auteres, And crepe amonges curatours, And confessen ageyn the lawe. Nolite mittere falcem in messem alienam, etc.

"Many man for Cristes love Was martired in Romayne, Er any cristendom was knowe there, Or any cros honoured.

"Every bisshop that bereth cros, By that he is holden 10710 Thorugh his province to passe, And to his peple to shewe hym, Tellen hem and techen hem On the Trinité to bileve, And feden hem with goostly foode, And gyve there it nedeth. In domo mea non est panis neque vestimentum, et ideo nolite constituere me regem.

"Ozias seith for swiche 10720 That sike ben and feble, Inferte omnes decimas in horreum 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, 10730 Oure Lord wroot it hymselve In stoon, for it stedefast was, And stonde sholde evere. Dilige Deum et proximum, Is parfit Jewen lawe; And took it Moyses to teche men Til Messie coome; And on that lawe thei lyve yit, And leten it the beste, And yit knewe thei Crist 10740 That cristendom taughte 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 men myghte wel se 10750 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, 10760 And studieden to struyen hym, And struyden hemselve; And thorugh his pacience, hir power To pure noght he broughte. Patientes vincunt.

"Daniel of hire undoynge Devyned and seide, Cum sanctus sanctorum veniat, cessabit unctio vestra. And wenen tho wrecches 10770 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 yit devyneth.

"Ac Pharisees and Sarzens, Scribes and Jewes, Arn folk of oon feith, 10780 The fader God thei honouren. And sithen that the Sarzens, 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, To lere hem litlum and litlum Et in Jesum Christum filium, Til thei kouthe speke and spelle Et in Spiritum sanctum, And reden it and recorden it With remissionem peccatorum, 10793 Carnis resurrectionem, et vitam æternam. Amen."

Passus Decimus Sextus, etc. et Primus de Do-bet.

" 10794 OW faire falle yow," quod I tho, "For youre faire shewyng; For Haukyns love, the actif man, Evere I shal yow lovye! Ac yit I am in a weer What charité is to mene."

10800 "It is a ful trie tree," quod he, "Trewely to telle; Mercy is the more therof, The myddul stok is ruthe; The leves ben lele wordes, The lawe of holy chirche; The blosmes beth buxom speche, And benigne lokynge; Pacience hatte the pure tree, And pure symple of herte; 10810 And so, thorugh God and thorugh goode men, Groweth the fruyt charité."

"I wolde travaille," quod I, "this tree to se, Twenty hundred myle; And for to have my fulle of that fruyt, Forsake alle othere saulees. Lord!" quod I, "if any wight wite Whider out it groweth."

"It groweth in a gardyn," quod he, "That God made hymselve, 10820 Amyddes mannes body, The more is of that stokke, Herte highte the herber That it inne groweth. And liberum arbitrium Hath the lond the ferme Under Piers the Plowman, To piken it and to weden it."

"Piers the Plowman!" quod I tho, And al for pure joye 10830 That I herde nempne his name, Anoon I swowned after, And lay longe in a lone dreem; And at the laste, me thoughte That Piers the Plowman Al the place me shewed, And bad me to toten on the tree, On top and on roote; With thre piles was it under-pight, I perceyved it soone.

10840 "Piers," quod I, "I preie thee, Whi stonde thise piles here?"

"For wyndes, wiltow wite," quod he, To witen it fro fallyng. Cum ceciderit justus, non collidetur, quia Dominus supponit manum suam. And in blowyng tyme, abite the flowres, But if thise piles helpe,

"The world is a wikked wynd 10850 To hem that willen truthe; Coveitise comth of that wynd, And crepeth among the leves, And for-freteth neigh the fruyt Thorugh manye faire sightes; Thanne with the firste pil I palle hym down, That is Potentia Dei.

"The flessh is a fel wynd, And in flouryng tyme Thorugh likynge and lustes 10860 So loude he gynneth blowe, That it norisseth nyce sightes, And som tyme wordes, And wikkede werkes therof, Wormes of synne, And for-biteth the blosmes Right to the bare leves.

"Than sette I to the secounde pil Sapientia Dei patris; That is the passion and the power 10870 Of oure prince Jhesu. Thorugh preieres and thorugh penaunces, And Goddes passion in mynde, I save it til I se it ripen And som del y-fruyted.

"And thanne fondeth the fend My fruyt to destruye, With alle the wiles that he kan; And waggeth the roote, And casteth up to the crop 10880 Unkynde neighebores; Bakbiteris breke the cheste, Brawleris and chideris, And leith a laddre therto, Of lesynges are the ronges, And feccheth awey my floures som tyme Afore bothe myne eighen. Ac liberum arbitrium Letteth hym som tyme, That is lieutenaunt to loken it wel, 10890 Bi leve of myselve. Videatis qui peccat in spiritum sanctum nunquam remittetur, etc. Hoc est idem, qui peccat per liberum arbitrium non repurgatur.

"Ac whan the fend and the flessh Forth with the world Manacen bihynde me My fruyt for to fecche, 10900 Thanne liberum arbitrium Laccheth the firste plante, And palleth adoun the pouke, Pureliche thorugh grace And help of the Holy Goost, And thus have I the maistrie."

"Now faire falle yow! Piers," quod I, "So faire ye discryven The power of thise postes, And hire propre myghtes. 10910 Ac I have thoughtes a threve Of thise thre piles, In what wode thei woxen, And where that thei growed; For alle are thei aliche longe, Noon lasse than oother, And to my mynde, as me thinketh, On o more thei growed, And of o greetnesse, And grene of greyn thei semen."

10920 "That is sooth," quod Piers, "So it may bifalle; I shal telle thee as tid What this tree highte. The ground there it groweth, Goodnesse it hatte; And I have told thee what highte the tree, The Trinité it meneth."

And egreliche he loked on me; And therfore I spared 10930 To asken hym any moore therof, And bad hym ful faire To discryve the fruyt That so faire hangeth.

"Heer no bynethe," quod he tho, "If I nede hadde, Matrimoyne I may nyme, A moiste fruyt withalle; Thanne continence is neer the crop, As kaylewey bastard, 10940 Thanne bereth the crop kynde fruyt, And clennest of alle, Maidenhode aungeles peeris And rathest wole be ripe, And swete withouten swellyng, Sour worth it nevere."

I preide Piers tho to pulle a-doun An appul, and he wolde, And suffre me to assaien What savour it hadde.

10950 And Piers caste to the crop, And thanne comsed it to crye, And waggede widwehode, And it wepte after; And whan it meved matrimoyne, It made a foul noise. And I hadde ruthe whan Piers rogged, It gradde so rufulliche; For evere as thei dropped a-doun, The devel was redy 10960 And gadrede hem alle togideres, Bothe grete and smale, Adam and Abraham, And Ysaye the prophete, Sampson and Samuel, And seint Johan the Baptist, Bar hem forth bodily, No body hym letted, And made of holy men his hoord In limbo inferni, 10970 There is derknesse and drede, And the devel maister.

And Piers, for pure tene, Of that a pil he raughte; He hitte after hym, Hitte how it myghte, Filius by the fader wille, And frenesse of Spiritus sancti, To go robbe that rageman, And reve the fruyt fro hym.

10980 And thanne spak Spiritus sanctus In Gabrielis mouthe, To a maide that highte Marie, A meke thyng withalle, That oon Jhesus a justices sone Moste jouke in hir chambre, Til plenitudo temporis Fully comen were, That Piers fruyt floured, And felle to be rype, 10990 And thanne sholde Jhesus juste therfore, By juggement of armes, Wheither sholde fonge the fruyt, The fend or hymselve.

The maide myldeliche tho The messager graunted, And seide hendeliche to hym, "Lo me his hand-maiden For to werchen his wille, Withouten any synne." 11000 Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi, etc.

And in the wombe of that wenche Was he fourty woukes, Til he weex a faunt thorugh hir flessh, And of fightyng kouthe, To have y-foughte with the fend Er ful tyme come. And Piers the Plowman Perceyved plener tyme, And lered hym lechecraft 11010 His lif for to save, That though he were wounded with his enemy, To warisshen hymselve, And dide hym assaie his surgenrie On hem that sike were, Til he was perfit praktisour, If any peril fille; And soughte out the sike And synfulle bothe, And salvede sike and synfulle, 11020 Bothe blynde and crokede, And commune wommen convertede, And to goode turnede. Non est sanis opus medicinæ, sed in, etc.

Bothe meseles and mute, And in the menyson blody, Ofte heeled swiche, He ne held it for no maistrie, Save tho he leched Lazar That hadde y-leye in grave, 11030 Quatriduanus quelt, Quyk dide hym walke. Ac as he made the maistrie, Mœstus cœpit esse, And wepte water with hise eighen, Ther seighen it manye. Some that the sighte seighen, Seiden that tyme That he was leche of lif, And lord of heigh hevene. 11040 Jewes jangled ther ayein, And juggede lawes And seide he wroghte thorugh wichecraft, And with the develes myghte. Dæmonium habet, etc.

Thanne, "are ye cherles," quod ich, "And youre children bothe, And Sathan youre saveour, Ye self now ye witnessen." "For I have saved yow self," seith Crist, 11050 "And youre sones after, Youre bodies, youre beestes, And blynde men holpen And fed yow with two fisshes And with fyve loves, And lefte baskettesful of broke mete, Bere awey who so wolde." And mys-seide the Jewes manliche And manaced hem to bete, And knokked on hem with a corde, 11060 And caste a-doun hir stalles That in chirche chaffareden, Or chaungeden any moneie, And seide it in sighte of hem alle, So that alle herden:—

"I shal overturne this temple, And a-doun throwe it, And in thre daies after Edifie it new, And maken it as muche outher moore 11070 In alle manere poyntes As evere it was, and as wid; Wherfore I hote yow, Of preieres and of perfitnesse This place that ye callen." = Domus mea domus orationis vocabitur.

Envye and yvel wil Was in the Jewes; Thei casten and contreveden 11080 To kulle hym whan thei myghte, Eche day after oother Hir tyme thei awaiteden; Til it bifel on a Friday A litel bifore Pasqe, The Thursday bifore There he made his maundee, Sittynge at the soper He seide thise wordes, "I am sold thorugh oon of yow, 11090 He shal the tyme rewe, That evere he his Saveour solde, For silver or ellis."

Judas jangled ther ayein; Ac Jhesus hym tolde, It was hymself soothly, And seide tu dicis.

Thanne wente forth that wikked man, And with the Jewes mette, And tolde hem a tokne 11100 How to knowe with Jhesus, And which tokne to this day To muche is y-used, That is kissynge and fair countenaunce, And unkynde wille. And so was with Judas tho, That Jhesus bitrayed: "Ave, raby," quod that ribaud, And right to hym he yede, And kiste hym, to be caught therby, 11110 And kulled of the Jewes.

Thanne Jhesus to Judas And to the Jewes seide, "Falsnesse I fynde In thi faire speche, And gile in thi glad chere, And galle is in thi laughyng; Thow shalt be myrour To many men to deceyve, Ac the worse and the wikkednesse 11120 Shal worthe upon thiselve. Necesse est ut veniant scandala: Væ homini illi per quem scandalum venit!

"Though I bi treson be take At youre owene wille, Suffreth myne apostles in pees And in pays gange." On a Thursday in thesternesse Thus was he taken, 11130 Thorugh Judas and Jewes, Jhesus was his name, That on the Friday folwynge For mankyndes sake Justed in Jherusalem, A joye to us alle. On cros upon Calvarie Crist took the bataille Ayeins deeth and the devel, Destruyed hir botheres myghtes, 11140 Deide and deed for-dide, And day of nyght made.

And I awaked therwith, And wiped myne eighen, And after Piers the Plowman Pried and stared Est-ward and west-ward, I waited after faste, And yede forth as an ydiot In contree to aspie, 11150 After Piers the Plowman Many a place I soughte. And thanne mette I with a man, A myd-lenten Sonday, As hoor as an hawethorn, And Abraham he highte. I frayned hym first Fram whennes he come, And of whennes he were, And whider that he soughte.

" I 11160 AM Feith," quod that freke, "It falleth noght to lye, And of Abrahames hous An heraud of armes, And seke after a segge That I seigh ones, A ful bold bacheler, I knew hym by his blasen."

"What berth that buyrn?" quod I tho, "So blisse thee bitide!"

11170 "Thre leodes in oon lyth, Noon lenger than oother, Of oon muchel and myght In mesure and in lengthe; That oon dooth, alle dooth, And ech dooth bi his one.

"The firste hath myght and majestee, Makere of alle thynges, Pater is his propre name, A persone by hymselve.

11180 "The secounde of tha sire is Sothfastnesse filius, Wardeyn of that wit hath Was evere withouten gynnyng.

"The thridde highte the Holi Goost, A persone by hymselve, The light of al that lif hath A-londe and a-watre, Confortour of creatures, Of hym cometh alle blisse.

11190 "So thre bilongeth for a lord That lordshipe cleymeth, Might and mene To knowe his owene myghte, Of hym and of his servaunt, And what thei suffre bothe.

"So God that gynnyng hadde nevere, But tho hym good thoughte, Sente forth his sone, As for servaunt that tyme, 11200 To ocupie hym here, Til issue were spronge, That is, children of charité, And holi chirche the moder; Patriarkes and prophetes And apostles were the children, And Crist and cristendom, And cristene holy chirche, In menynge that man moste On o God bileve. 11210 And there hym likede and lovede, In thre persones hym shewede, And that it may be so and sooth, Manhode it sheweth, Wedlok and widwehode, With virginité y-nempned, In tokenynge of the Trinité Was out of man taken.

"Adam was oure aller fader, And Eve was of hymselve, 11220 And the issue that thei hadde It was of hem bothe, And either is otheres joie In thre sondry persones, And in hevene and here Oon singuler name; And thus is mankynde and manhede Of matrimoyne y-spronge, And bitokneth the Trinité And trewe bileve.

11230 "Mighty is matrimoyne, That multiplieth the erthe, And bitokneth trewely, Telle if I dorste, Hym that first formed al, The fader of hevene.

"The sone, if I it dorste seye, Resembleth wel the widewe. = Deus meus, Deus meus, ut quid dereliquisti me!

11240 "That is, creatour weex creature To knowe what was bothe. As widewe withouten wedlok Was nevere yit y-seighe; Na-moore myghte God be man, But if he moder hadde. So widewe withouten wedlok May noght wel stande, Ne matrimoyne withouten muliere Is noght muche to preise. 11250 Maledictus homo qui non reliquit semen in Israel! etc.

"Thus in thre persones Is perfitliche manhede; That is man and his make And mulliere children. And is noght but gendre of a generacion Bifore Jhesu Crist in hevene; So is the fader forth with the sone, And fre wille of bothe. = Spiritus procedens a patre et filio, etc. 11262 Which is the Holy Goost of alle, And alle is but o God.

"Thus in a somer I hym seigh As I sat in my porche. I roos up and reverenced hym, And right faire hym grette, Thre men to my sighte I made wel at ese, 11270 Wessh her feet and wiped hem, And afterward thei eten Calves flessh and cake-breed, And knewe what I thoughte! Ful trewe toknes bitwene us is, To telle whan me liketh.

"First he fonded me If I lovede bettre Hym or Ysaak myn heir, The which he highte me kulle. 11280 He wiste my wille bi hym, He wol me it allowe; I am ful siker in soule therof, And my sone bothe. I circumscised my sone Sithen for his sake, Myself and my meynee, And alle that male weere, Bledden blood for that Lordes love, And hope to blisse the tyme. 11290 Myn affiaunce and my feith Is ferme in his bileve; For himself bihighte to me, And to myn issue bothe, Lond and lordshipe, And lif withouten ende; To me and to myn issue Moore yet he grauntede, Mercy for oure mys-dedes, As many tyme as we asken. 11300 Quam olim Abrahæ promisisti et semini ejus.

"And siththe he sente me to seye I sholde do sacrifise, And doon hym worship with breed And with wyn bothe; And called me the foot of his feith, His folk for to save, And defende hem fro the fend, Folk that on me leveden.

11310 "Thus have I ben his heraud Here and in helle, And conforted many a careful That after his comynge waiteden. And thus I seke hym," he seide, "For I herde seyn late Of a barn that baptysed hym, Johan Baptist was his name, That to patriarkes and to prophetes, And to oother peple in derknesse, 11320 Seide that he seigh here That sholde save us alle." Ecce agnus Dei! etc.

I hadde wonder of hise wordes, And of hise wide clothes; For in his bosom he bar a thyng That he blissed evere. And I loked in his lappe, A lazar lay therinne Amonges patriarkes and prophetes 11330 Pleyinge togideres.

"What awaitestow?" quod he, "And what woldestow have?"

"I wolde wite," quod I tho, "What is in youre lappe."

"Loo!" quod he; and leet me see. "Lord, mercy!" I seide; "This is a present of muche pris, What prynce shal it have?"

"It is a precious present," quod he; 11340 "Ac the pouke it hath attached, And me thermyde," quod that man, "May no wed us quyte, Ne no buyrn be oure borgh, Ne brynge us fram his daunger; Out of the poukes pondfold No maynprise may us feeche, Til he come that I carpe of, Crist is his name. That shal delivere us som day 11350 Out of the develes power, And bettre wed for us legge Than we ben alle worthi, That is lif for lif, Or ligge thus evere Lollynge in my lappe, Til swich a lord us fecche."

"Allas!" I seide, "that synne So longe shal lette The myght of Goddes mercy, 11360 That myghte us alle amende." I wepte for hise wordes. With that saugh I another Rapeliche renne forth, The righte wey he wente. I affrayned hym first Fram whennes he come, And what he highte, and whider he wolde; 11368 And wightly he tolde.

Passus Decimus Septimus, etc. et Secundus de Do-bet.

" 11369 AM Spes," quod he, "aspie And spire after a knyght, That took me a maundement Upon the mount of Synay, To rule alle reames with, I bere the writ here."

"Is it enseled?" I seide, "May men see thi lettres?"

"Nay," he seide, "seke hym That hath the seel to kepe; And that is cros and cristendom, 11380 And Crist theron to honge. And whan it is enseled so, I woot wel the sothe, That Luciferis lordshipe Laste shal no lenger."

"Lat se thi lettres," quod I, "We myghte the lawe knowe."

Thanne plukkede he forth a patente, A pece of an hard roche, Wheron were writen two wordes 11390 On this wise y-glosed. 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 his duobus mandatis tota lex pendet et prophetia.

"Ben here alle thi lordes lawes?" quod I. "Ye, leve me wel," he seide; 11400 And who so wercheth 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.

"Ye seien sooth," seide this heraud; "I have y-founde it ofte. 11410 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 so, For lif, and for soule? 11420 Abraham seith That he seigh hoolly the Trinité, 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. 11430 What neded it thanne A newe lawe to bigynne, Sith the firste suffiseth To savacion and to blisse? And now cometh Spes and speketh, That aspied the lawe; And telleth noght of the Trinité That took hym hise lettres, To bileeve and lovye In o lord almyghty, 11440 And siththe right as myself So lovye alle peple.

"The gome that 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 That it is lighter to lewed men O lesson to knowe, 11450 Than for to techen hem two, And to hard to lerne to the leeste It is ful hard for any man On Abraham bileve; And wel awey worse yit For to love a sherewe. It is lighter to leeve In thre lovely persones, Than for to lovye and leve As wel lorels as lele."

11460 "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, 11470 Comynge from a contree That men called Jerico, To a justes in Jerusalem He chaced awey faste. Bothe the heraud and Hope And he mette at ones Where a man was wounded, And with theves taken; He myghte neither steppe ne stande, Ne stere foot ne handes, 11480 Ne helpe hymself soothly, For semy-vif he semed, And as naked as a nedle, And noon help aboute hym.

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 y-bosted 11490 How he with Moyses maundement Hadde many men y-holpe; 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 a-down of lyard, And ladde hym in his hande, 11500 And to the wye he wente Hise woundes to biholde; And perceyved bi his pous He was in peril to dye, And but he hadde recoverer the rapelier, That rise sholde he nevere. With wyn and with oille Hise woundes he wasshed, Enbawmed hym and bond his heed, And in his lappe hym leide, 11510 And ladde hym so forth on lyard Te lex Christi, a graunge Wel sixe mile or sevene Biside the newe market; Herberwed hym at an hostrie, And to the hostiler called, And seide, "Have kepe this man Til I come fro the justes; And lo! here silver," he seide, "For salve to hise woundes." 11520 And he took hym two pens, To liflod, as it weere; And seide, "What he spendeth moore, I make thee good herafter; For I may noght lette," quod that leode; And lyard he bistrideth, And raped hym to Jerusalem-ward The righte wey to ryde.

Feith folwede after faste, And fondede to mete hym; 11530 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 pité, And graunted hym to ben his groom. "Graunt mercy!" he seide; 11540 "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 that sorweful man That robbed was with theves.

"Have hem excused," quod he, "Hir help may litel availle; 11550 May no medicyne on 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 he be bathed in that blood, Baptised as it were, And thanne plastred with penaunce And passion of that baby, 11560 He sholde stonde and steppe. Ac stalworthe worth he nevere. Til he have eten al the barn, And his blood y-dronke. 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 his felawe, Spes, and myselve, 11570 And thiself now, And swiche as suwen oure werkes.

"For outlawes in the wode And under bank lotieth, And mowen 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 foote. 11580 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, 11590 And nevere eft greve gome That gooth this ilke gate.

"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 that I wente, And wher forth to Jerusalem. And Hope the hostilers man shal be, Ther the man lith an helyng; 11600 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 turne, And come ayein bi this contree, And conforten alle sike 11610 That craveth it and coveiteth it, Or 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, 11620 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.

11630 "After Abraham," quod he, "That heraud of armes, Sette fully thi feith And ferme bileve; And as Hope highte thee, I hote that thow lovye Thyn evene cristene evere moore Evene forth with thiselve. And if Conscience carpe ther ayein, Or kynde wit eyther, 11640 Or eretikes with argumentz Thyn hond thow hem shewe; For God is after an hand, Y-heer 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 profre it forth as with a pawme To what place it sholde,

11650 "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 who so liketh, The Holy Goost of hevene He is as the pawme.

"The fyngres that fre ben To folde and to serve, 11660 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, etc.

"The Fader is pawme as a fust, With fynger to touche,— = Quia omnia traham ad meipsum, etc. 11672 Al that the pawme perceyveth Profitable to feele.

"Thus are thei alle but oon, As it an hand weere, And thre sondry sightes In oon shewynge, The pawme for it putteth forth fyngres, And the fust bothe; 11680 Right so redily, Reson it sheweth How he that is Holy Goost Sire and Son 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, 11690 Al the wide world Withinne hem thre holden, Bothe wolkne and the wynd, Water and erthe, Hevene and helle, And al that is therinne.

"Thus it is, nedeth no man Trowe noon oother, That thre thynges bilongeth In oure Lord of Hevene; 11700 And aren serelopes by hemself, A-sondry were thei nevere, Na-moore than myn hand may Meve withoute my fyngres.

"And as my fust is ful hand Y-holden togideres; So is the Fader a ful God, Formour and shappere. Tu fabricator omnium, etc. And al the myght myd hym is 11710 In makynge of thynges. The fyngres formen a ful hand To portreye or peynten, Kervynge and compasynge, As 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, 11720 And hath power by hymselve, Other wise than the writhen fust, Or werkmanshipe of fyngres. For he hath power To putte out alle the joyntes, And to unfolde the folden fust, At the fyngres wille.

"So is the Holy Goost God, Neither gretter ne lasse. Than is the Sire and the Sone, 11730 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 pawne, Al is but an hand; Evene in the myddes, He may receyve right noght, Reson it sheweth, For the fyngres that folde sholde 11740 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 Y-maymed or y-perissed, I sholde receyve right noght Of that I reche myghte.

"Ac though my thombe and my fyngres 11750 Bothe were to-shullen, And the myddel of myn hand Withoute male-ese, In many kynnes maneres I myghte myself helpe, Bothe mene and amende, Though alle my fyngres oke.

"By this skile, me thynketh, I se an evidence That who so synneth in the Seint Spirit, 11760 Assoilled worth he nevere, Neither here ne ellis where, As I herde telle. Qui peccat in Spiritu sancto, etc. For he priketh God as in the pawme, That peccat in Spiritu sancto. 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; 11770 So who so synneth in the Seint Spirit, It semeth that he greveth God, that he grypeth with, And wolde his grace quenche.

"And to a torche or a tapur The Trinité is likned; As wex and a weke Were twyned togideres, And thanne a fir flawmynge Forth out of bothe; 11780 And as wex and weke And hoot fir togideres Fostren forth a flawmbe And a fair leye, So dooth the Sire and the Sone And also Spiritus sanctus, That alle kynne cristene Clenseth of synnes And as thow seest som tyme Sodeynliche a torche, 11790 The blase therof y-blowe out, Yet brenneth the weke Withouten leye or light That 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.

11800 "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; Na-moore dooth Sire ne Sone Ne Seint Spirit togidres Graunte no grace Ne forgifnesse of synnes, 11810 Til the Holy Goost gynne To glowe and to blase. So that the Holy Goost Gloweth but as a glade, 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 11820 Ysekeles and evesynges Thorugh hete of the sonne Melte in a minut while To myst and to watre.

"So grace of the Holy Goost The greet myght of the Trinité Melteth to mercy, To merciable and to othere; And as wex withouten moore On a warm glede 11830 Wol brennen and blasen, Be thei togideres, And solacen hem that mowe se, That sitten in derknesse.

"So wol the Fader forgyve Folk of mylde hertes, That rufully repenten, And restitucion make, In as muche as thei mowen Amenden and paien; 11840 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 myd That in the derke sitten; So wole Crist of his curteisie, And men crye hym mercy, 11850 Bothe forgyve and foryete, And yit bidde for us To the Fader of hevene Forgifnesse to have.

"Ac hewe fir at a flynt Foure hundred wynter, But thow have tow to take it with, Tonder or broches, Al thi labour is lost, And al thi long travaille; 11860 For may no fir flaumbe make, Faille it is kynde.

"So is the Holi Goost God, And grace withouten mercy To alle unkynde creatures, Crist hymself witnesseth. Amen dico vobis, nescio vos, etc.

"Be unkynde to thyn evene cristene, And al that thow kanst bidde, Delen and do penaunce 11870 Day and nyght evere, And purchace al the pardon Of Pampilon and Rome, And indulgences y-nowe, And be ingratus to thi kynde, The Holy Goost hereth thee noght, Ne helpe may thee by reson; For unkyndenesse quencheth hym, That he kan noght shyne, Ne brenne ne blase clere 11880 For blowynge of unkyndenesse. Poul the apostel Preveth wheither I lye. Si linguis hominum loquar, etc.

"For-thi 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 evene cristene, 11890 For manye of yow riche men, By my soule! men telleth, Ye brenne, but ye blase noght, That is a blynd bekene. Non omnis qui dicit Domine! Domine! intrabit, etc.

"Dives deyde dampned, For his unkyndenesse Of his mete and of his moneie To men that it nedede. 11900 Ech a riche I rede Reward at hym take, And gyveth youre good to that God That grace of ariseth; For thei 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, 11910 The grace of the Holy Goost, Goddes owene kynde. For that kynde dooth, unkynde for-dooth; 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, The harlotes destruyeth, 11920 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 Trinité; And who morthereth a good man, Me thynketh by myn inwit, He for-dooth the levest light That oure Lord lovyeth.

11930 "And yet in manye mo maneres Men offenden the Holy Goost. 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, That wikkedliche and wilfulliche Wolde mercy aniente.

11940 "Innocence is next God, And nyght and day it crieth, 'Vengeaunce! vengeaunce! Forgyve be it nevere That shente us and shedde oure blood, For-shapte us, as it were!' Vindica sanguinem justorum.

"Thus 'Vengeaunce! vengeaunce!' Verrey Charité asketh. And sith holy chirche and Charité 11950 Chargeth this so soore, Leve I nevere that oure Lord Wol love that charité lakketh, Ne have pité for any preiere Ther that he pleyneth."

"I pose I hadde synned so, And sholde now deye; And now I am sory that I so The Seint Spirit a-gulte, Confesse me and crye his grace, 11960 God that al made, And myldeliche his mercy aske, Myghte I noght be saved?"

"Yis," seide the Samaritan, "So wel thow myght repente, That rightwisnesse thorugh repentaunce, To ruthe myghte turne. Ac it is but selden y-seighe Ther soothnesse bereth witnesse, Any creature that is coupable 11970 Afore a kynges justice, Be raunsoned for his repentaunce, Ther alle reson hym dampneth. For ther that partie pursueth, The peple is so huge, That the kyng may do no mercy Til bothe men acorde, And eyther have equité, As holy writ telleth. Nunquam dimittitur peccatum, etc.

11980 "Thus it fareth by swich folk That falsly al hire lyves Yvele lyven, and leten noght Til lif hem forsake. Good hope, that helpe sholde, To wanhope torneth, Noght of the noun power of God, That he ne is myghtful To amende al that amys is, And his mercy gretter 11990 Than alle oure wikkede werkes, As holy writ telleth. = Misericordia ejus super omnia opera ejus. Ac er his rightwisnesse to ruthe torne, Som restitucion bihoveth. His sorwe is satisfaccion, For hym that may noght paie.

"Thre thynges ther ben That doon a man by strengthe 12000 For to fleen his owene, As holy writ sheweth.

"That oon is a wikkede wif, That wol noght be chastised; Hir feere fleeth fro hire, For feere of hir tonge.

"And if his hous be un-hiled, And reyne on his bedde, He seketh and seketh Til he slepe drye.

12010 "And whan smoke and smolder Smyt in his sighte, It dooth hym worse than his wif Or wete to slepe. For smoke and smolder Smyteth in hise eighen, Til he be bler-eighed, or blynd, And hoors in the throte, Cogheth, and curseth That Crist gyve hem sorwe 12020 That sholde brynge in bettre wode, Or blowe it til it brende.

"Thise thre that I telle of Ben thus 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 freleté it made, 12030 And that is lightly forgyven And forgeten bothe, To man that mercy asketh, And amende thenketh.

"The reyn that reyneth Ther we reste sholde, Ben siknesse and sorwes That we suffren ofte; As Poul the apostle To the people taughte. 12040 Virtus infirmitate perficitur, etc.

"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, 12050 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, 12060 And lene of his herte Good wille and good word, And wisshen and willen Alle manere men Mercy and forgifnesse, And lovye hem lik hymself, And his lif amende.

"I may no lenger lette," quod he; And lyard he prikede, And went awey as wynd; 12070 And therwith I awakede.

Passus Decimus Octavus, etc. et Tertius de Do-bet.

= OLLEWARD and weet-shoed 12073 Wente I forth after, As a recchelees renk That of no wo roughte, And yede forth lik a lorel Al my lif tyme, Til I weex wery of the world, And wilned eft to slepe, 12080 And lened me to a lenten, And longe tyme I slepte; And of Cristes passion and penaunce, The peple that of raughte, Reste me there, and rutte faste Til ramis palmarum. Of gerlis and of gloria laus Gretly me dremed, And how hosanna by organye Olde folk songen.

12090 Oon semblable to the Samaritan, And som deel to Piers the Plowman, Bare-foot on an asse bak Boot-les cam prikye, Withouten spores other spere, Spakliche he lokede, As is the kynde of a knyght That cometh to be dubbed, To geten hym gilte spores, Or galoches y-couped.

12100 Thanne was Feith in a fenestre, And cryde a fili David, As dooth an heraud of armes, Whan aventrous cometh to justes. Old Jewes of Jerusalem For joye thei songen, = Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.

Thanne I frayned at Feith, What al that fare by-mente, 12110 And who sholde juste in Jerusalem. "Jhesus," 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 Jhesus of his gentries Wol juste in Piers armes, In his helm and in his haubergeon, Humana natura; 12120 That Crist be noght bi-knowe here For consummatus Deus. In Piers paltok the Plowman This prikiere shal ryde. For no dynt shal hym dere, As in deitate Patris."