VOL. II.

_SECOND AND REVISED EDITION._

LONDON:

REEVES AND TURNER, 196 STRAND.

1887.

* * * * *

{273}

_Passus Decimus Quartus, etc._

"Ihave but oon hool hater," quod Haukyn; 8900

"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

And out of Lente bothe, 8910

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

And povere men to fede, 8920

Al for coveitise of my cristendom

In clennesse to kepen it.

{274}

And kouthe I nevere, by Crist!

Kepen it clene an houre,

That I ne soiled it with sighte

Or som ydel speche,

Or thorugh werk, or thorugh word,

Or wille of myn herte,

That I ne flobre it foule

Fro morwe til even." 8930

"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

As bright as any scarlet, 8940

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.

Shal noon heraud ne harpour 8950

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,

{275}

With his _activa vita_."

"And I shal purveie thee paast," quod Pacience,

"Though no plough erye,

And flour to fede folk with 8960

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,"

_Ne solliciti sitis, etc. Volucres coeli 8970

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

For alle manere beestes, 8980

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,

{276}

And in the fir the criket, 8990

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

nomine meo, etc. Et alibi: 9000

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,

Or whan thow clomsest for cold, 9010

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,

Darstow nevere care for corn, 9020

Ne lynnen cloth ne wollen,

Ne for drynke, ne deeth drede,

But deye as God liketh,

{277}

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._

"For thorugh his breeth beestes woxen 9030

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

Folk lyvede withouten tulying; 9040

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;

Thus rede men in bokes 9046

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.

"Ac unkyndenesse _caristiam_ maketh 9056

{278}

Amonges cristen peple;

And over plentee maketh pryde

Amonges poore and riche.

Therfore mesure is muche worth, 9060

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,

Thei diden dedly synne 9070

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,

Which dryveth awey dedly synne, 9080

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,

{279}

And surgiens for dedly synnes 9090

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,

As David seith in the Sauter, 9100

_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

Man that with hym spak, 9110

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?"

"Ye, _quis est ille_?" quod Pacience; 9120

"Quik _laudabimus eum_.

{280}

Though men rede of richesse

Right to the worldes ende,

I wiste nevere renk that riche was,

That whan he rekene sholde,

Whan he drogh to his deeth day,

That he ne dredde hym soore,

And that at the rekenyng in arrerage fel

Rather than out of dette.

Ther the poore dar plede, 9130

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;

And makest hem wel neigh meke, 9140

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,

But God sente hem som tyme 9150

Som manere joye

Outher here or ellis where,

Kynde wolde it nevere;

For to wrotherhele was he wroght

That nevere was joye shapen.

{281}

Aungeles that in helle now ben

Hadden joye som tyme;

And Dives in the deyntees lyvede,

And in _douce vie_.

Right so reson sheweth 9160

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;

For thei han hir hire heer, 9170

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

rediges, etc._ 9180

"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

{282}

And his dayes journée. 9190

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,

And hevene also therafter; 9200

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,

And rewarde wel the poore, 9210

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

Men dooth hym oother bountee, 9220

Gyveth hym a cote above his covenaunt,

{283}

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,

As by holy seintes bokes, 9230

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,

And foule y-rebuked, 9244

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.

But, Lord, have ruthe on thise riche men, 9254

{284}

That rewarde noght thi prisoners.

Of the good that thow hem gyvest

_Ingrati_ ben manye;

Ac, God, of thi goodnesse

Gyve hem grace to amende.

For may no derthe be hem deere, 9260

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

Thorugh derthe, thorugh droghte, 9270

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:

_Convertimini ad me, et salvi eritis_. 9280

"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;

{285}

And if us fille thorugh folie

To falle in synne after, 9290

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._

And putten of so the pouke, 9300

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;

Ellis is al on ydel, 9310

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.

For-thi cristene sholde be in commune riche, 9320

Noon coveitous for hymselve.

{286}

"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;

And that is plesaunt to pride, 9330

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.

For the riche hath muche to rekene; 9340

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,

For his poverte and his pacience, 9350

A perpetuel blisse.

_Beati pauperes, quoniam ipsorum

est regnum cælorum._

"And pride in richesse regneth

Rather than in poverte;

{287}

Arst in the master than in the man

Som mansion he haveth.

Ac in poverte, ther pacience is,

Pride hath no myghte,

Ne none of the sevene synnes 9360

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,

And either hateth oother 9370

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;

And by the nekke namely 9380

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.

{288}

"And though avarice wolde angre the poore, 9390

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?

"Lecherie loveth hym noght, 9400

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,

Meschief is his maister, 9410

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.

For-thi every poore that pacient is, 9420

May cleymen and asken

After hir endynge here

{289}

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;

And as a mayde for mannes love 9430

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,

Moore for coveitise of good 9440

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,

What is poverte with pacience," quod he; 9450

"Proprely to mene?"

"_Paupertas_," quod Pacience, "_est

odibile bonum, remotio curarum,

possessio sine calumnia,

donum Dei, sanitatis mater,

{290}

absque sollicitudine semita,

sapientiæ temperatrix, negotium

sine damno, incerta fortuna,

absque sollicitudine

felicitas._" 9460

"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,

Al that agasteth pride. 9470

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._

And contricion confort, 9480

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

{291}

To punysshen any peple.

_Remotio curarum._ 9490

_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,

But that he may wel paie. 9500

_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.

_Donum Dei._ 9510

"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.

For ther that poverte passeth, 9520

Pees folweth after;

And ever the lasse that he bereth,

{292}

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

viatore._ 9530

"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

Than he may wel deserve, 9540

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

And good leche in siknesse. 9550

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_.

{293}

Now God, that alle good gyveth,

Graunte his soule reste

That this first wroot to wissen men

What poverte was to mene!" 9560

"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,

And weyled the tyme 9570

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,

"To werien any clothes, 9580

Ne neither sherte ne shoon,

Save for shame one

To covere my careyne," quod he;

And cride mercy faste,

And wepte and wailede;

And therwith I awakede. 9586

* * * * *

{294}

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

Ac after my wakynge, 9587

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,

With pendauntz of silver; 9600

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,

A sotil thyng withalle; 9610

{295}

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,

And of his kyn a party. 9620

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,

Among Cristes peple?" 9630

"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,

And do as truthe techeth, 9640

Thanne is _Ratio_ my righte name,

Reson on Englisshe;

{296}

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,

Goddes clerk and his notarie; 9650

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,

Either of hem bothe, 9660

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,

memoria est; dum judicat, 9670

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,

{297}

Al bourdynge that tyme;

"For bisshopes y-blessed,

Thei bereth manye names,

_Præsul_ and _pontifex_, 9680

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."

"Ye, sire," I seide, 9690

"By so no man were greved,

Alle the sciences under sonne,

And alle the sotile craftes,

I wolde I knewe and kouthe

Kyndely in myn herte."

"Thanne artow inparfit," quod he,

"And oon of Prides knyghtes;

For swich a lust and likyng

Lucifer fel from hevene."

_Ponam pedem meum in aquilone, et 9700

similis ero altissimo._

"It were ayeins kynde," quod he,

"And alle kynnes reson,

That any creature sholde konne al,

Except Crist oone:

Ayein swiche Salomon speketh,

And despiseth hir wittes,

And seith, _Sicut qui mel comedit

multum, non est ei bonum; sic

qui scrutator est majestatis, 9710

opprimitur a gloria_.

{298}

"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.

_Beatus est_, seith seint Bernard, 9720

_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._

"And right as hony is yvel to defie, 9730

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_ =

"Freres and fele othere maistres, 9742

That to lewed men prechen,

Ye moeven materes unmesurable

{299}

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,

And tellen men of the ten comaundmentz, 9750

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,

Moore for pompe than for pure charité, 9760

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._

"Gooth to the glose of thise vers, 9770

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,

{300}

Of avarouse chapmen;

And louten to thise lordes

That mowen lene yow nobles,

Ayein youre rule and religion, 9780

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.

"As holynesse and honesté 9790

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:

Ther some bowes ben leved, 9800

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,

Shal nevere flour ne fruyt 9810

{301}

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

Tithes, but of trewe thyng, 9820

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

That were bi-snewed with snow, 9830

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.

Johannes Crisostomus 9840

Of clerkes speketh and preestes;

_Sicut de templo omne bonum progreditur,

sic de templo omne

malum procedit. Si sacerdotium

{302}

integrum fuerit, tota floret

ecclesia: si autem corruptum

fuerit, omnis fides marcida

est. Si sacerdotium fuerit

in peccatis, totus populus

convertitur ad peccandum. Sicut 9850

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,

And who was myn auctour, 9860

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;

Ac a porthors that sholde be his plow 9870

_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

{303}

But wikkede men it hadde,

The whiche arn preestes inparfite, 9880

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.

"Curatours of holy kirke, 9890

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

To frend ne to fremmed, 9900

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.

Ac for goode men, God woot! 9910

Greet doel men maken,

And bymeneth goode mete gyveres,

{304}

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._

Withouten fauntelté or folie, 9920

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,

And wollen lene ther thei leve 9930

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

Thyng that neded hym noght, 9940

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._

{305}

And so I trowe trewely,

By that men telleth of charité,

It is noght chaumpions fight,

Ne chaffare, as I trowe, 9950

"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,

And good til alle wikkede, 9960

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

In myldenesse he suffreth. 9970

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_

Fynt hym evere moore; 9980

{306}

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,

He bereth hem swetter liflode, 9990

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,

And pakken hem togideres, 10000

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,

non despicies_." 10010

"By Crist! I wolde that I knewe hym," quod I,

"No creature levere!"

"Withouten help of Piers Plowman," quod he,

{307}

"His persone sestow nevere."

"Wheither clerkes knowen hym," quod I,

"That kepen holi kirke?"

"Clerkes have no knowyng," quod he,

"But by werkes and by wordes.

Ac Piers the Plowman

Parceyveth moore depper 10020

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,

And as a lyoun he loketh, 10030

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.

"Therfore by colour ne by clergie 10040

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

{308}

_Petrus, i. Christus._

For he nys noght in lolleris,

Ne in lond leperis heremytes,

Ne at ancres there a box hangeth, 10050

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,

And is compaignable and confortatif, 10060

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

Bothe were kynges, 10070

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

Rathest he walketh, 10080

{309}

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,

And of hir robes taketh, 10090

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,

For braulynge and bakbitynge, 10100

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,

Thei undoon it unworthily, 10110

Tho doctours of lawe.

"Ac I ne lakke no lif,

But, Lord, amende us alle,

{310}

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,

Lakketh ne loseth, 10120

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,

Ne with his mouth greveth. 10130

"Amonges cristene men

This myldenesse sholde laste.

In alle manere angres

Have this at herte,

That theigh thei suffrede al this,

God suffrede for us moore,

In ensample we sholde do so,

And take no vengeaunce

Of oure foes that dooth us falsnesse,

That is oure fadres wille. 10140

"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

{311}

That we sholde suffren also,

And seide to swiche that suffre wolde,

That _patientes vincunt_. 10150

"_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,

And othere holy fadres, 10160

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

No liflode ne toke; 10170

But of foweles that fleeth,

Thus fyndeth men in bokes.

Except that Egidie

After an hynde cride,

And thorugh the mylk of that mylde beest

The man was sustened;

And day bi day hadde he hire noght

His hunger for to slake,

But selden and sondry tymes,

As seith the book and techeth. 10180

"Antony a dayes,

{312}

Aboute noon tyme,

Hadde a brid that broughte hym breed,

That he by lyvede;

And though the gome hadde a gest,

God fond hem bothe.

"Poul _primus heremita_

Hadde parroked hymselve,

That no man myghte hym se

For mosse and for leves; 10190

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,

And his felawe Andrew; 10200

Som thei solde and som thei soden,

And so thei lyved bothe.

"And also Marie Maudeleyne

By mores lyvede and dewes

Ac moost thorugh devocion

And mynde of God almyghty.

I sholde noght thise seven daies

Siggen hem alle,

That lyveden thus for oure Lordes love

Many longe yeres. 10210

"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,

{313}

And fawned with the taillies;

And if thei kouthe han y-carped,

By Crist! as I trowe,

Thei wolde have y-fed that folk

Bifore wild foweles. 10220

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

Be looth to agulte, 10230

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

That we sholde lyve by. 10240

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

{314}

steterit. Brutorum animalium 10250

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.

Allas! lordes and ladies, 10260

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?

_Dispersit, dedit pauperibus._ 10270

"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,

And communers that ben riche, 10280

Fele of yow fareth

As if I a forest hadde

{315}

That were ful of faire trees,

And I fondede and caste

How I myghte mo therinne

Amonges hem sette.

"Right so, ye riche,

Ye robeth that ben riche,

And helpeth hem that helpeth yow,

And gyveth ther no nede is. 10290

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,

Sholde rather feeste beggeris 10300

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.

Porro non indiget monachus, si 10310

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

{316}

Thorugh his preieres he delivereth.

Ac ther is a defaute in the folk

That the feith kepeth;

Wherfore folk is the febler, 10320

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;

Ac the metal, that is mannes soule, 10330

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,

Han no bileve to the lifte, 10340

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,

As of wedres and wyndes 10350

{317}

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,

Shepherdes and shipmen, 10360

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,

For is noon of this newe clerkes, 10370

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,

Muche wonder me thynketh 10380

Amonges us alle,

Doctours of decrees

And of divinité maistres,

That sholde konne and knowe

{318}

Alle kynnes clergie,

And answere to argumentz,

And also to a _quodlibet_;

I dar noght siggen it for shame,

If swiche were apposed,

Thei sholde faillen of her philosophie, 10390

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,

That _sola fides sufficit_ 10400

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;

For thei love and bileve 10410

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

{319}

And for he moste noght ben a pope

Into Surrie he soughte, 10420

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

Menynge as after mete,-- 10430

Thus Makometh hire enchauntede;

And dide folk thanne falle on knees,

For he swoor in his prechyng

That the colvere that com so,

Com from God of hevene,

As messager to Makometh,

Men for to teche.

And thus thorugh wiles of his wit,

And a whit dowve,

Makometh in mysbileve 10440

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,

How Englisshe clerkes a colvere fede 10450

That coveitise highte,

And ben manered after Makometh,

{320}

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

Of tirauntz that teneth trewe men 10460

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;

And folkes sholden fare, 10470

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,

Siggen thise wives. 10480

_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._

{321}

"For fressh flessh outher fissh,

Whan it salt failleth,

It is unsavory for sothe,

Y-soden or y-bake; 10490

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

Al the world tornede 10500

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

Engelond and Walis, 10510

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,

And the feith taughte, 10520

{322}

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

Or in fullyng stokkes, 10530

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.

And help-lees to the soule. 10540

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,

Ne fesauntz y-bake, 10550

But with foweles that fram hym nolde,

But folwede his whistlyng.

_Ecce altilia mea, et omnia parata sunt._ =

And with calves flessh he fedde

{323}

The folk that he lovede.

"The calf bitokneth clennesse

In hem that kepeth lawes.

For as the cow thorugh kynde mylk

The calf norisseth til an oxe; 10560

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

That ben persons and preestes, 10570

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

Perfourneth that Crist highte. 10580

_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,

Sithen thei wille have name 10590

{324}

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._

"And sith that thise Sarzens, 10600

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,

Forsoke hir owene wille, 10610

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

Amonges poore and riche, 10620

And now is routhe to rede

How the rede noble

Is reverenced er the roode,

And receyved for worthier

Than Cristes cros, that overcam

{325}

Deeth and dedly synne.

And now is werre and wo;

And who so why asketh,

For coveitise after cros

The croune stant in golde. 10630

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,

How tho men honoured 10640

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._

"If knyghthod and kynde wit 10650

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

Holy kirke dowed 10660

{326}

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,

That may amende prelates, 10670

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,

Er moore peril falle. 10680

"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

Hir message to shewe. 10690

Thus in a feith leve that folk,

And in a fals mene;

And that is routhe for rightful men

That in the reawme wonyen,

{327}

And a peril to the pope,

And prelates that he maketh,

That bere bisshopes names

Of Bethleem and Babiloigne,

That huppe aboute in Engelond

To halwe mennes auteres, 10700

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

Thorugh his province to passe, 10710

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

That sike ben and feble, 10720

_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,

{328}

And hem that shul come after us.

"And Jewes lyven in lele lawe,

Oure Lord wroot it hymselve 10730

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

That cristendom taughte 10740

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

That Messie he semede, 10750

And whan he lifte up Lazar,

That leid was in grave,

And under stoon deed and stank,

With stif vois hym callede:

_Lazare, veni foras._

Dide hym rise and rome,

Right bifore the Jewes.

"Ac thei seiden and sworen

With sorcerie he wroughte,

And studieden to struyen hym, 10760

And struyden hemselve;

{329}

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

That he were _pseudo-propheta_, 10770

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,

The fader God thei honouren. 10780

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,

Carnis resurrectionem, et vitam æternam. Amen._" 10793

* * * * *

{330}

_Passus Decimus Sextus, etc. et Primus de Do-bet._

"Now faire falle yow," quod I tho, 10794

"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."

"It is a ful trie tree," quod he, 10800

"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;

And so, thorugh God and thorugh goode men, 10810

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,

{331}

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,

Amyddes mannes body, 10820

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

That I herde nempne his name, 10830

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.

"Piers," quod I, "I preie thee, 10840

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,

{332}

"The world is a wikked wynd

To hem that willen truthe; 10850

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

So loude he gynneth blowe, 10860

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

Of oure prince Jhesu. 10870

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

Unkynde neighebores; 10880

Bakbiteris breke the cheste,

Brawleris and chideris,

{333}

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,

Bi leve of myselve. 10890

_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,

Thanne _liberum arbitrium_ 10900

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.

Ac I have thoughtes a threve 10910

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,

{334}

On o more thei growed,

And of o greetnesse,

And grene of greyn thei semen."

"That is sooth," quod Piers, 10920

"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

To asken hym any moore therof, 10930

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,

Thanne bereth the crop kynde fruyt, 10940

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.

And Piers caste to the crop, 10950

{335}

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

And gadrede hem alle togideres, 10960

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_,

There is derknesse and drede, 10970

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.

And thanne spak _Spiritus sanctus_ 10980

In Gabrielis mouthe,

To a maide that highte Marie,

A meke thyng withalle,

That oon Jhesus a justices sone

{336}

Moste jouke in hir chambre,

Til _plenitudo temporis_

Fully comen were,

That Piers fruyt floured,

And felle to be rype,

And thanne sholde Jhesus juste therfore, 10990

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."

_Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi, etc._ 11000

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

His lif for to save, 11010

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,

{337}

And salvede sike and synfulle,

Bothe blynde and crokede, 11020

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,

_Quatriduanus_ quelt, 11030

Quyk dide hym walke.

Ac as he made the maistrie,

_Moestus coepit 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.

Jewes jangled ther ayein, 11040

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,

"And youre sones after, 11050

Youre bodies, youre beestes,

{338}

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,

And caste a-doun hir stalles 11060

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

In alle manere poyntes 11070

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

To kulle hym whan thei myghte, 11080

Eche day after oother

Hir tyme thei awaiteden;

Til it bifel on a Friday

A litel bifore Pasqe,

The Thursday bifore

{339}

There he made his maundee,

Sittynge at the soper

He seide thise wordes,

"I am sold thorugh oon of yow,

He shal the tyme rewe, 11090

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

How to knowe with Jhesus, 11100

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,

And kulled of the Jewes. 11110

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

{340}

Shal worthe upon thiselve. 11120

_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,

Thorugh Judas and Jewes, 11130

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,

Deide and deed for-dide, 11140

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,

After Piers the Plowman 11150

Many a place I soughte.

And thanne mette I with a man,

A myd-lenten Sonday,

{341}

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.

"Iam Feith," quod that freke, 11160

"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!"

"Thre leodes in oon lyth, 11170

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.

"The secounde of tha sire is 11180

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

{342}

A-londe and a-watre,

Confortour of creatures,

Of hym cometh alle blisse.

"So thre bilongeth for a lord 11190

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,

To ocupie hym here, 11200

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.

And there hym likede and lovede, 11210

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,

{343}

And the issue that thei hadde 11220

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.

"Mighty is matrimoyne, 11230

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!_ =

"That is, creatour weex creature 11240

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.

_Maledictus homo qui non reliquit 11250

semen in Israel! etc._

"Thus in thre persones

Is perfitliche manhede;

{344}

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._ =

Which is the Holy Goost of alle, 11262

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,

Wessh her feet and wiped hem, 11270

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.

He wiste my wille bi hym, 11280

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,

{345}

Bledden blood for that Lordes love,

And hope to blisse the tyme.

Myn affiaunce and my feith 11290

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.

_Quam olim Abrahæ promisisti et 11300

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.

"Thus have I ben his heraud 11310

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,

Seide that he seigh here 11320

That sholde save us alle."

{346}

_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

Pleyinge togideres. 11330

"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;

"Ac the pouke it hath attached, 11340

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

Out of the develes power, 11350

And bettre wed for us legge

Than we ben alle worthi,

That is lif for lif,

Or ligge thus evere

Lollynge in my lappe,

{347}

Til swich a lord us fecche."

"Allas!" I seide, "that synne

So longe shal lette

The myght of Goddes mercy,

That myghte us alle amende." 11360

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;

And wightly he tolde. 11368

* * * * *

{348}

_Passus Decimus Septimus, etc. et Secundus de Do-bet._

"Iam _Spes_," quod he, "aspie 11369

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,

And Crist theron to honge. 11380

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

On this wise y-glosed. 11390

_Dilige Deum et proximum tuum._

This was the tixte trewely,

{349}

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;

And who so wercheth after this writ, 11400

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.

Lo! here in my lappe 11410

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?

Abraham seith 11420

That he seigh hoolly the Trinité,

Thre persones in parcelles

Departable fro oother,

And alle thre but o god;

{350}

Thus Abraham me taughte,

And hath saved that bileved so,

And sory for hir synnes.

He kan noght siggen the somme,

And some arn in his lappe.

What neded it thanne 11430

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,

And siththe right as myself 11440

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,

Than for to techen hem two, 11450

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

{351}

As wel lorels as lele."

"Go thi gate!" quod I to _Spes_, 11460

"So me God helpe!

Tho that lernen thi lawe,

Wol litel while usen it."

And as we wenten thus in the wey

Wordynge togideres,

Thanne seighe we a Samaritan

Sittynge on a mule,

Ridynge ful rapely

The righte wey we yeden,

Comynge from a contree 11470

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,

Ne helpe hymself soothly, 11480

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

How he with Moyses maundement 11490

Hadde many men y-holpe;

Ac whan he hadde sighte of that segge

{352}

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,

And to the wye he wente 11500

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,

And ladde hym so forth on lyard 11510

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."

And he took hym two pens, 11520

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

{353}

The righte wey to ryde.

Feith folwede after faste,

And fondede to mete hym;

And _Spes_ spakliche hym spedde, 11530

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;

"Ac thi frend and thi felawe," quod he, 11540

"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;

May no medicyne on molde 11550

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,

{354}

He sholde stonde and steppe. 11560

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,

And thiself now, 11570

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.

For he seigh me that am Samaritan 11580

Suwen Feith and his felawe

On my capul that highte _caro_,

Of mankynde I took it;

He was unhardy that harlot,

And hidde hym _in Inferno_.

Ac er this day thre daies,

I dar undertaken,

That he worth fettred, that feloun,

Faste with cheynes,

And nevere eft greve gome 11590

That gooth this ilke gate.

"And thanne shal Feith be forster here,

{355}

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;

And alle that feble and feynte be, 11600

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

That craveth it and coveiteth it, 11610

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,

In thre persones departable, 11620

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,

{356}

And alle gomes after,

Lovye hem lik myselve,

Ac oure Lord aboven alle.

"After Abraham," quod he, 11630

"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,

Or eretikes with argumentz 11640

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,

"The pawme is purely the hand, 11650

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,

Bitoknen soothly the Sone 11660

{357}

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._ =

Al that the pawme perceyveth 11672

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;

Right so redily, 11680

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,

Al the wide world 11690

Withinne hem thre holden,

Bothe wolkne and the wynd,

Water and erthe,

Hevene and helle,

{358}

And al that is therinne.

"Thus it is, nedeth no man

Trowe noon oother,

That thre thynges bilongeth

In oure Lord of Hevene;

And aren serelopes by hemself, 11700

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

In makynge of thynges. 11710

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,

And hath power by hymselve, 11720

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.

{359}

Than is the Sire and the Sone,

And in the same myghte. 11730

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

And the fust make, 11740

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

Bothe were to-shullen, 11750

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,

Assoilled worth he nevere, 11760

Neither here ne ellis where,

As I herde telle.

{360}

_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;

So who so synneth in the Seint Spirit, 11770

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;

And as wex and weke 11780

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,

The blase therof y-blowe out, 11790

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,

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That coveite to destruye

Lele love or lif

That oure Lord shapte.