"And as glowynge gledes 11800

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,

Til the Holy Goost gynne 11810

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

Ysekeles and evesynges 11820

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

Wol brennen and blasen, 11830

{362}

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;

And if it suffise noght for assetz, 11840

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,

Bothe forgyve and foryete, 11850

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;

For may no fir flaumbe make, 11860

Faille it is kynde.

"So is the Holi Goost God,

And grace withouten mercy

To alle unkynde creatures,

{363}

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

Day and nyght evere, 11870

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

For blowynge of unkyndenesse. 11880

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,

For manye of yow riche men, 11890

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

{364}

Of his mete and of his moneie

To men that it nedede.

Ech a riche I rede 11900

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,

The grace of the Holy Goost, 11910

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,

The which is lif and love, 11920

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.

"And yet in manye mo maneres 11930

Men offenden the Holy Goost.

Ac this is the worste wise

{365}

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.

"Innocence is next God, 11940

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

Chargeth this so soore, 11950

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,

God that al made, 11960

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

{366}

Ther soothnesse bereth witnesse,

Any creature that is coupable

Afore a kynges justice, 11970

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._

"Thus it fareth by swich folk 11980

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

Than alle oure wikkede werkes, 11990

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

For to fleen his owene, 12000

As holy writ sheweth.

"That oon is a wikkede wif,

{367}

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.

"And whan smoke and smolder 12010

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

That sholde brynge in bettre wode, 12020

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,

And that is lightly forgyven 12030

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;

{368}

As Poul the apostle

To the people taughte.

_Virtus infirmitate perficitur, etc._ 12040

"And though that men make

Muche doel in hir angre,

And ben inpacient in hir penaunce,

Pure reson knoweth

That thei han cause to contrarie

By kynde of hir siknesse;

And lightliche oure Lord

At hir lyves ende

Hath mercy on swiche men,

That so yvele may suffre. 12050

"Ac the smoke and the smolder

That smyt in oure eighen,

That is coveitise and unkyndenesse,

That quencheth Goddes mercy.

For unkyndenesse is the contrarie

Of alle kynnes reson.

For ther nys sik ne sory,

Ne noon so muche wrecche,

That he ne may lovye, and hym like,

And lene of his herte 12060

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;

And therwith I awakede. 12070

* * * * *

{369}

_Passus Decimus Octavus, etc. et Tertius de Do-bet._

Wolleward and weet-shoed =

Wente I forth after, 12073

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,

And lened me to a lenten, 12080

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.

Oon semblable to the Samaritan, 12090

And som deel to Piers the Plowman,

Bare-foot on an asse bak

Boot-les cam prikye,

{370}

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.

Thanne was Feith in a fenestre, 12100

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,

And who sholde juste in Jerusalem. 12110

"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_;

That Crist be noght bi-knowe here 12120

For _consummatus Deus_.

In Piers paltok the Plowman

This prikiere shal ryde.

For no dynt shal hym dere,

As _in deitate Patris_."

"Who shal juste with Jhesus?" quod I,

{371}

"Jewes or scrybes?"

"Nay," quod he; "The foule fend,

And fals doom and deeth.

Deeth seith he shal for-do 12130

And a-doun brynge

Al that lyveth and loketh

In londe and in watre.

"Lif seith that he lieth,

And leieth his lif to wedde,

That for al that deeth kan do

Withinne thre daies

To walke and fecche fro the fend

Piers fruyt the Plowman,

And legge it ther hym liketh, 12140

And Lucifer bynde,

And for-bete and a-doun brynge

Bale deeth for evere."

_O mors, ero mors tua._

Thanne cam Pilatus with muche peple,

_Sedens pro tribunali_,

To se how doghtiliche Deeth sholde do,

And deme hir botheres right.

The Jewes and the justice

Ayeins Jhesu thei weere, 12150

And al the court on hym cryde

_Crucifige_ sharpe.

Tho putte hym forth a pilour

Bifore Pilat, and seide,

"This Jhesus of oure Jewes temple

Hath japed and despised,

To for-doon it on o day,

And in thre dayes after

Edifie it eft newe;

{372}

Here he stant that seide it; 12160

And yit maken it as muche

In alle manere poyntes,

Bothe as long and as large,

Bi lofte and by grounde."

"_Crucifige!_" quod a cachepol;

"I warrante hym a wicche."

"_Tolle! tolle!_" quod another,

And took of kene thornes,

And bigan of kene thorn

A garland to make, 12170

And sette it sore on his heed,

And seide in envye,

"Ave, Raby," quod that rybaud,

And threw reedes at hym,

Nailed hym with thre nailes

Naked on the roode,

And poison on a poole

Thei putte up to hise lippes,

And beden hym drynken his deeth yvel,

Hise daies were y-done, 12180

"And if that thow sotil be,

Help now thiselve;

If thow be Crist and kynges sone,

Com down of the roode;

Thanne shul we leve that lif thee loveth,

And wol noght lete thee deye."

"_Consummatum est_," quod Crist,

And comsede for to swoune

Pitousliche and pale,

As a prison that deieth. 12190

The lord of lif and of light

Tho leide hise eighen togideres.

{373}

The day for drede withdrough,

And derk bicam the sonne;

The wal waggede and cleef,

And al the world quaved;

Dede men for that dene

Come out of depe graves,

And tolde why that tempeste

So longe tyme durede; 12200

"For a bitter bataille,"

The dede body seide,

"Lif and deeth in this derknesse

Hir oon for-dooth hir oother.

Shal no wight wite witterly

Who shal have the maistrie

Er Sonday aboute sonne risyng;"

And sank with that til erthe.

Some seide that he was Goddes sone

That so faire deide. 12210

_Vere filius Dei erat iste._

And some seide he was a wicche,

"Good is that we assaye

Wher he be deed or noght deed,

Doun er he be taken."

Two theves also

Tholed deeth that tyme,

Upon a croos besides Crist,

So was the comune lawe.

A cachepol cam forth 12220

And craked bothe hire legges,

And the armes after

Of either of tho theves.

Ac was no body so boold

Goddes body to touche;

For he was knyght and kynges sone,

{374}

Kynde for-yaf that tyme,

That noon harlot were so hardy

To leyen hond upon hym.

Ac ther cam forth a knyght, 12230

With a kene spere y-grounde,

Highte Longeus, as the lettre telleth,

And longe hadde lore his sighte.

Bifore Pilat and oother peple

In the place he hoved;

Maugree his manye teeth,

He was maad that tyme

To take the spere in his hond,

And justen with Jhesus.

For alle thei were unhardy, 12240

That hoved on horse or stode,

To touchen hym or to tasten hym,

Or taken doun of roode.

But this blynde bacheler

Baar hym thorugh the herte;

The blood sprong doun by the spere,

And unspered the knyghtes eighen.

Thanne fil the knyght upon knees,

And cryde hym mercy;

"Ayein my wille it was, Lord, 12250

To wownde yow so soore."

He sighed and seide,

"Soore it me a-thynketh,

For the dede that I have doon

I do me in youre grace.

Have on me ruthe! rightful Jhesu!"

And right with that he wepte.

Thanne gan Feith felly

The false Jewes despise,

{375}

Callede hem caytyves 12260

Acorsed for evere;

"For this foule vileynye

Vengeaunce to yow falle!

To do the blynde bete hym y-bounde,

It was a boyes counseille.

Cursede caytif!

Knyghthood was it nevere

To mys-do a deed body

By daye or by nyghte.

The gree yit hath he geten, 12270

For al his grete wounde.

"For youre champion chivaler,

Chief knyght of yow alle,

Yilt hym recreaunt rennyng

Right at Jhesus wille.

For be this derknesse y-do,

His deeth worth avenged;

And ye, lurdaynes, han y-lost,

For lif shal have the maistrye;

And youre fraunchise, that fre was, 12280

Fallen is in thraldom,

And ye, cherles, and youre children

Cheve shulle nevere

To have lordshipe in londe,

Ne no lond tilye,

But al barayne be,

And usurie usen,

Which is lif that oure Lord

In alle lawes acurseth.

Now youre goode dayes arn doon, 12290

As Daniel prophecied,

Whan Crist cam, of hir kyngdom

The crowne sholde cesse."

{376}

_Cum veniat sanctus sanctorum, cessabit

unctio vestra._

What for feere of this ferly,

And of the false Jewes,

I drow me in that derknesse

To _descendit ad inferna_;

And there I saugh soothly 12300

_Secundum Scripturas_

Out of the west coste

A wenche, as me thoughte,

Cam walkynge in the wey,

To helle-ward she loked.

Mercy highte that mayde,

A meke thyng withalle,

A ful benigne burde,

And buxom of speche.

Hir suster, as it semed, 12310

Cam soothly walkynge.

Evene out of the est,

And west-ward she lokede,

A ful comely creature,

Truthe she highte,

For the vertue that hire folwede

A-fered was she nevere.

Whan thise maydenes mette,

Mercy and Truthe,

Either asked oother 12320

Of this grete wonder,

Of the dyn and of the derknesse,

And how the day rowed,

And which a light and a leme

Lay bifore helle.

"Ich have ferly of this fare,

In feith!" seide Truthe,

{377}

"And am wendynge to wite

What this wonder meneth."

"Have no merveille," quod Mercy, 12330

"Murth it bitokneth.

A maiden that highte Marie,

And moder withouten felyng

Of any kynnes creature,

Conceyved thorugh speche

And grace of the Holy Goost,

Weex greet with childe,

Withouten wem

Into this world she broghte hym;

And that my tale be trewe, 12340

I take God to witnesse.

"Sith this barn was y-bore

Ben .xxx.^{ti} wynter passed,

Which deide and deeth tholed

This day aboute myd-day,

And that is cause of this clips

That closeth now the sonne,

In menynge that man shal

Fro merknesse be drawe,

The while this light and this leme 12350

Shal Lucifer a-blende.

For patriarkes and prophetes

Han preched herof ofte:

That man shal man save

Thorugh a maydenes helpe;

And that was tynt thorugh tree,

Tree shal it wynne;

And that deeth a-down broughte,

Deeth shal releve."

"That thow tellest," quod Truthe, 12360

"Is but a tale of Waltrot.

{378}

For Adam and Eve,

And Abraham, with othere,

Patriarkes and prophetes,

That in peyne liggen,

Leve thow nevere that yon light

Hem a-lofte brynge,

Ne have hem out of helle.

Hold thi tonge, Mercy!

It is but a trufle that thow tellest; 12370

I, Truthe, woot the sothe.

For he that is ones in helle,

Out cometh he nevere.

Job the prophete patriark

Repreveth thi sawes."

_Quia in inferno nulla est redemptio._

Thanne Mercy ful myldely

Mouthed thise wordes,

"Thorugh experience," quod she,

"I hope thei shul be saved. 12380

For venym for-dooth venym;

And that preve I by reson.

For of alle venymes

Foulest is the scorpion,

May no medicyne helpe

The place ther he styngeth,

Til he be deed, and do therto,

The yvel he destruyeth,

The firste venymousté

Thorugh venym of hymselve. 12390

"So shal this deeth for-do,

I dar my lif legge,

Al that deeth for-dide first

Thorugh the develes entisyng;

And right as thorugh gile

{379}

Man was bi-giled,

So shal grace that bi-gan

Make a good sleighte."

_Ars ut artem falleret._

"Now suffre we," seide Truthe; 12400

"I se, as me thynketh,

Out of the nyppe of the north

Noght ful her hennes

Rightwisnesse come rennynge.

Reste we the while;

For he woot moore than we,

He was er we bothe."

"That is sooth," seide Mercy;

"And I se here by sowthe

Where Pees cometh pleyinge, 12410

In pacience y-clothed.

Love hath coveited hire longe,

Leve I noon oother,

But he sente hire som lettre,

What this light by-meneth

That over-hoveth helle thus,

She us shal telle."

When Pees in pacience y-clothed

Approched ner hem tweyne,

Rightwisnesse hire reverenced, 12420

By hir riche clothyng,

And preide Pees to telle hire

To what place she wolde,

And in hire gaye garnementz

Whom she grete thoughte.

"My wil is to wende," quod she,

"And welcome hem alle

That many day myghte I noght se

For merknesse of synne,

{380}

Adam and Eve, 12430

And othere mo in helle;

Moyses and many mo

Mercy shul have,

And I shal daunce therto,

Do thow so, suster,

For Jhesus justede wel,

Joy bigynneth dawe.

_Ad vesperum demorabitur fletus, et

ad matutinum lætitia._

"Love, that is my lemman, 12440

Swiche lettres me sente,

That Mercy, my suster, and I

Mankynde sholde save,

And that God hath for-gyven

And graunted me pees and mercy,

To be mannes meynpernour

For evere moore after.

Lo here the patente!" quod Pees,

"_In pace in idipsum._

And that this dede shal dure, 12450

_Dormiam et requiescam_."

"What! ravestow?" quod Rightwisnesse,

"Or thow art right dronke?

Levestow that yond light

Unlouke myghte helle,

And save mannes soule?

Suster, wene it nevere.

For God the bigynnere

Gaf the doom hymselve,

That Adam and Eve, 12460

And alle that hem suwede,

Sholden deye down righte,

{381}

And dwelle in pyne after,

If that thei touchede a tree,

And the fruyt eten.

"Adam afterward

Ayeins his defence

Freet of that fruyt,

And forsook, as it weere,

The love of oure Lord 12470

And his loore bothe,

And folwede that the fend taughte,

And his felawes wille,

Ayeins reson and rightwisnesse,

Recorde thus with truthe,

That hir peyne be perpetuel,

And no preiere hem helpe.

For-thi lat hem chewe as thei chosen,

And chide we noght, sustres;

For it is bote-lees bale, 12480

The byte that thei eten."

"And I shal preve," quod Pees,

"Hir peyne moot have ende,

And from wo into wele

Mowe wenden at the laste.

For hadde thei wist of no wo,

Wele hadde the noght knowen.

For no wight woot what wele is,

That nevere wo suffrede;

Ne what is hoot hunger, 12490

That hadde nevere defaute.

"If no nyght ne weere,

No man, as I leeve,

Sholde nevere wite witterly

What day is to meene.

Sholde nevere right riche man,

{382}

That lyveth in reste and ese,

Wite what wo is,

Ne were the deeth of kynde.

"So God, that bigan al 12500

Of his goode wille,

Bicam man of a mayde

Mankynde to save;

And suffrede to be sold,

To se the sorwe of deying,

The which unknytteth alle care,

And comsynge is of reste.

For til _modicum_ mete with us,

I may it wel avowe,

Woot no wight, as I wene, 12510

What y-nogh is to mene.

"For-thi God of his goodnesse

The firste gome Adam

Sette hym in solace,

And in sovereyn murthe;

And siththe he suffred hym synne,

Sorwe to feele,

To wite what wele was

Kyndeliche and knowe it.

And after God auntrede hymself, 12520

And took Adames kynde,

To wite what he hath suffred

In thre sondry places,

Bothe in hevene and in erthe,

And now til helle he thenketh

To wite what alle wo is,

And what is alle joye.

"So it shal fare by this folk,

Hir folie and hir synne

Shal lere hem what langour is 12530

{383}

And lisse withouten ende.

Woot no wight what werre is

Ther that pees regneth,

Ne what is witterly wele

Til weylawey! hym teche."

Thanne was ther a wight

With two brode eighen,

Book highte that beau-peere,

A bold man of speche;

"By Goddes body!" quod this Book, 12540

"I wol bere witnesse

That tho this barn was y-bore,

Ther blased a sterre

That alle the wise of this world

In o wit acorden,

That swich a barn was y-bore

In Bethleem the citee,

That mannes soule sholde save,

And synne destroye.

And alle the elementz," quod the Book, 12550

"Herof beren witnesse,

That he was God that al wroghte,

The wolkne first shewed.

"Tho that weren in hevene

Token _stella cometa_,

And tendeden it as a torche

To reverencen his burthe;

The light folwede the Lord

Into the lowe erthe.

"The water witnessed that he was God, 12560

For he wente on it.

Peter the apostel

Parceyved his gate,

And as he wente on the water,

{384}

Wel hym knew, and seide,

_Jube me venire ad te super aquas._

"And lo! how the sonne gan louke

Hire light in hirselve,

Whan she seigh hym suffre,

That sonne and see made. 12570

"The erthe for hevynesse

That he wolde suffre,

Quaked as quyk thyng,

And al biquasshed the roche.

"Lo! helle myghte nat holde,

But opnede tho God tholede,

And leet out Symondes sone

To seen hym hange on roode.

And now shal Lucifer leve it,

Though hym looth thynke; 12580

For _Gigas_ the geaunt

With a gyn hath engyned

To breke and to bete a-doun

That ben ayeins Jhesus.

And I, Book, wole be brent,

But Jhesus rise to lyve

In alle myghtes of man,

And his moder gladie,

And conforte al his kyn

And out of care brynge, 12590

And al the Jewene joye

Unjoynen and unlouken,

And but thei reversen his roode,

And his resurexion,

And bileve on a newe lawe,

Be lost lif and soule."

"Suffre we," seide Truthe;

"I here and see bothe

{385}

How a spirit speketh to helle,

And biddeth unspere the yates." 12600

_Attolite portas, etc._

A vois loude in that light

To Lucifer crieth,

"Prynces of this place,

Unpynneth and unlouketh!

For here cometh with crowne

That kyng is of glorie."

Thanne sikede Sathan,

And seide to hem alle,

"Swich a light ayeins oure leve 12610

Lazar out fette;

Care and encombraunce

Is comen to us alle!

If this kyng come in,

Mankynde wole he fecche,

And lede it ther hym liketh,

And lightliche me bynde.

Patriarkes and Prophetes

Han parled herof longe,

That swich a lord and light 12620

Sholde lede hem alle hennes."

"Listneth," quod Lucifer,

"For I this lord knowe.

Bothe this lord and this light,

Is longe a-go I knew hym.

May no deeth hym dere,

Ne no develes queyntise;

And where he wole is his wey,

Ac ware hym of the perils.

If he reveth me my right, 12630

He robbeth me by maistrie;

For by right and by reson

{386}

The renkes that ben here

Body and soule beth myne,

Bothe goode and ille.

For hymself seide,

That sire is of hevene,

If Adam ete the appul,

Alle sholde deye

And dwelle with us develes; 12640

This thretynge he made.

And he that soothnesse is,

Seide thise wordes.

And sithen I seised

Sevene hundred wynter,

I leeve that lawe nyl noght

Lete hym the leeste."

"That is sooth," seide Sathan;

"But I me soore drede.

For thow gete hem with gile, 12650

And his gardyn breke,

And in semblaunce of a serpent

Sete upon the appul-tree,

And eggedest hem to ete,

Eve by hirselve;

And toldest hire a tale,

Of treson were the wordes;

And so thow haddest hem out,

And hider at the laste.

It is noght graithly geten, 12660

Ther gile is the roote.

For God wol noght be bi-giled,"

Quod Gobelyn, "ne by-japed;

We have no trewe title to hem,

For thorugh treson were thei dampned." =

{387}

"Certes, I drede me," quod the devel,

"Lest Truthe wol hem fecche;

Thise thritty wynter, as I wene,

Hath he gon and preched. 12670

I have assailled hym with synne,

And som tyme y-asked

Wheither he were God or Goddes sone;

He yaf me short answere.

And thus hath he trolled forth

Thise two and thritty wynter.

And whan I seigh it was so,

Lepynge I wente

To warne Pilates wif

What done man was Jhesus. 12680

For Jewes hateden hym,

And han doon hym to dethe.

I wolde have lengthed his lif;

For I leved if he deide,

That his soule wolde suffre

No synne in his sighte.

For the body, while it on bones yede,

Aboute was evere

To save men from synne,

If hemself wolde. 12690

And now I se wher a soule

Cometh hiderward seillynge,

With glorie and with gret light,--

God it is, I woot wel.

I rede that we fle," quod he,

"Faste alle hennes;

For us were bettre noght be,

Than biden his sighte.

For thi lesynges, Lucifer,

{388}

Lost is al oure praye. 12700

"First thorugh the we fellen

Fro hevene so heighe,

For we leved on thi lesynges;

Y-lorn we have Adam,

And al oure lordshipe, I leve,

A-londe and a-watre."

_Nunc princeps hujus mundi ejicietur foras_.

Eft the light bad unlouke;

And Lucifer answerede,

"What lord artow?" quod Lucifer. 12710

_Quis est iste?_

"_Rex Gloriæ_,"

The light soone seide,

"And lord of myght and of man,

And alle manere vertues.

_Dominus virtutum_.

Dukes of this dymme place,

Anoon undo thise yates,

That Crist may come in,

The kynges sone of hevene!" 12720

And with that breeth helle brak,

With Belialles barres,

For any wye or warde,

Wide opned the yates.

Patriarkes and prophetes,

_Populus in tenebris_,

Songen seint Johanes song,

_Ecce agnus Dei._

Lucifer loke ne myghte,

So light hym a-blente. 12730

And tho that oure Lord lovede

Into his light he laughte;

And seide to Sathan,

{389}

"Lo! here my soule to amendes

For alle synfulle soules,

To save tho that ben worthi.

Myne thei ben and of me,

I may the bet hem cleyme.

And though Reson recorde

And Right, of myselve, 12740

That if he ete the appul

Alle sholde deye;

I bi-highte hem noght here

Helle for evere.

For the dede that thei dide,

Thi deceite it made;

With gile thow hem gete,

Ageyn alle reson.

For in my paleis Paradis,

In persone of an addre, 12750

Falsliche thow fettest

Thyng that I lovede.

"Thus y-lik a lusard,

With a lady visage,

Thefliche thow me robbedest;

And the olde lawe graunteth

That gilours be bigiled,

And that is good reson.

_Dentem pro dente et oculum pro oculo._ =

_Ergo_ soule shal soule quyte, 12761

And synne to synne wende,

And al that man hath mys-do

I, man, wole amende;

Membre for membre

By the olde lawe was amendes,

And lif for lif also,

{390}

And by that lawe I clayme it,

Adam and al his issue

At my wille herafter, 12770

And that deeth in hem for-dide

My deeth shal releve,

And bothe quykne and quyte

That queynt was thorugh synne.

And that grace gile destruye,

Good feith it asketh.

So leve I noght, Lucifer,

Ayein the lawe I fecche hem;

But by right and by reson

Raunsone here my liges. 12780

_Non veni solvere legem, sed adimplere._ =

"Thow fettest myne in my place

Ayeins alle reson,

Falsliche and felonliche;

Good feith me it taughte,

To recovere hem thorugh raunson,

And by no reson ellis.

So that thorugh gile thow gete,

Thorugh grace it is y-wonne. 12790

Thow Lucifer in liknesse

Of a luther addere

Getest bi gile

Tho that God lovede.

"And I in liknesse of a leode,

That lord am of hevene,

Graciousliche thi gile have quyt;

Go gile ayein gile.

And as Adam and alle

Thorugh a tree deyden; 12800

Adam and alle thorugh a tree

{391}

Shul turne ayein to lyve;

And gile is bi-giled,

And in his gile fallen.

_Et cecidit in foveam quam fecit._

"Now bi-gynneth thi gile

Ageyn thee to turne,

And my grace to growe

Ay gretter and widder;

That art doctour of deeth, 12810

Drynk that thow madest.

"For I that am lord of lif,

Love is my drynke;

And for that drynke to-day

I deide upon erthe.

I faught so, me thursteth yit,

For mannes soule sake;

May no drynke me moiste,

Ne my thurst slake,

Til the vendage falle 12820

In the vale of Josaphat,

That I drynke right ripe must,

_Resurrectio mortuorum_;

And thanne shal I come as a kyng,

Crouned with aungeles,

And have out of helle

Alle mennes soules.

"Fendes and fyndekynes

Bifore me shul stande,

And be at my biddyng 12830

Wher so evere me liketh;

And to be merciable to man

Thanne my kynde asketh.

For we beth bretheren of blood,

But noght in baptisme alle.

{392}

Ac alle that beth myne hole bretheren

In blood and in baptisme.

Shul noght be dampned to the deeth

That is withouten ende.

_Tibi soli peccavi, etc._ 12840

"It is noght used in erthe,

To hangen a feloun

Ofter than ones,

Though he were a tretour.

And if the kyng of that kyngdom

Come in that tyme

There feloun thole sholde

Deeth or oother juwise,

Lawe wolde he yeve hym lif,

If he loked on hym. 12850

And I, that am kyng of kynges,

Shal come swich a tyme

Ther doom to the deeth

Dampneth alle the wikked;

And if lawe wole I loke on hem,

It lith in my grace

Wheither thei deye or deye noght

For that thei diden ille;

Be it any thyng a-bought

The boldnesse of hir synnes, 12860

I do mercy thorugh rightwisnesse,

And alle my wordes trewe;

And though holy writ wole that I be wroke

Of hem that diden ille,--

_Nullum malum impunitum, etc._--

Thei shul be clensed clerliche,

And wasshen of hir synnes,

In my prisone Purgatorie,

{393}

Til _parce_ it hote,

And my mercy shal be shewed 12870

To manye of my bretheren.

For blood may suffre blood,

Bothe hungry and a-cale;

Ac blood may noght se blood

Blede, but hym rewe.

_Audivi arcana verba quæ non licet

homini loqui._

"Ac my rightwisnesse and right

Shul rulen al helle,

And mercy al mankynde 12880

Bifore me in hevene.

For I were an unkynde kyng,

But I my kynde helpe,

And nameliche at swich a nede.

Ther nedes help bihoveth.

_Non intres in judicium cum servo tuo._ =

"Thus by lawe," quod oure Lord,

"Lede I wole fro hennes

Tho that me lovede 12890

And leved in my comynge.

And for thi lesynge, Lucifer,

That thow leighe til Eve,

Thow shalt abyen it bittre;"--

And bond hym with cheynes.

Astroth and al the route

Hidden hem in hernes;

They dorste noght loke on oure Lord,

The boldeste of hem alle,

But leten hym lede forth whom hym liked, 12900

And lete whom hym liste.

{394}

Manye hundred of aungeles

Harpeden and songen,

_Culpat caro, purgat caro,

Regnat Deus Dei caro._

Thanne pipede Pees

Of Poesie a note,

_Clarior est solito post maxima nebula Phoebus, =

Post inimicitias, etc._ 12910

"After sharpe shoures," quod Pees,

"Moost shene is the sonne;

Is no weder warmer

Than after watry cloudes;

Ne no love levere,

Ne lever frendes,

Than after werre and wo,

Whan Love and Pees ben maistres.

Was nevere werre in this world,

Ne wikkednesse so kene, 12920

That ne Love, and hym liste,

To laughynge ne broughte,

And pees thorugh pacience

Alle perils stoppeth."

"Trewes," quod Truthe;

"Thow tellest us sooth, by Jhesus!

Clippe we in covenaunt,

And ech of us clippe oother."

"And leteth no peple," quod Pees,

"Perceyve that we chidde. 12930

For inpossible is no thyng

To hym that is almyghty."

"Thow seist sooth," quod Rightwisnesse;

And reverentliche hire kiste.

{395}

"Pees and pees here!

_Per sæcula sæculorum._"

_Misericordia et veritas obviaverunt

sibi, justitia et pax osculatæ sunt._

Truthe trumpede tho,

And song _Te Deum laudamus_; 12940

And thanne lutede,

In a loud note,

_Ecce quam bonum et quam jocundum, etc._

Til the day dawed

Thise damyseles dauncede,

That men rongen to the resurexion.

And right with that I wakede,

And callede Kytte my wif,

And Calote my doghter;

And bad hem rise and reverence 12950

Goddes resurexion;

And crepe to the cros on knees,

And kisse it for a juwel,

For Goddes blissede body

It bar for oure boote;

And it a-fereth the fend,

For swich is the myghte,

May no grisly goost

Glide there it walketh. 12959

* * * * *

{396}

_Passus Decimus Nonus, explicit Do-bet, et incipit Do-best._

Thus I awaked and wroot 12960

What I hadde y-dremed;

And dighte me derely,

And dide me to chirche,

To here holly the masse,

And to be housled after.

In myddes of the masse,

Tho men yede to offryng,

I fel eft-soones a-slepe;

And sodeynly me mette

That Piers the Plowman 12970

Was peynted al blody,

And com in with a cros

Bifore the comune peple,

And right lik in alle thynges

To oure Lord Jhesus.

And thanne called I Conscience,

To kenne me the sothe;

"Is this Jhesus the justere," quod I,

"That Jewes dide to dethe?

Or it is Piers the Plowman. 12980

Who peynted hym so rede?"

Quod Conscience, and kneled tho,

"Thise arn Piers armes,

{397}

Hise colours and his cote armure;

Ac he that cometh so blody

Is Crist with his cros,

Conquerour of cristene."

"Why calle hym Crist," quod I,

"Sithen Jewes calle hym Jhesus?

Patriarkes and prophetes 12990

Prophecied bifore

That alle kynne creatures

Sholden knelen and bowen,

Anoon as men nempned

The name of God Jhesu.

_Ergo_ is no name

To the name of Jhesus;

Ne noon so nedeful to nempne

By nyghte ne by daye.

For alle derke develes 13000

Arn a-drad to heren it;

And synfulle aren solaced

And saved by that name.

And ye callen hym Crist;

For what cause telleth me?

Is Crist moore of myght,

And moore worthi name,

Than Jhesu or Jhesus,

That al oure joye com of?"

"Thow knowest wel," quod Conscience, 13010

"And thow konne reson,

That knyght, kyng, conquerour,

May be o persone.

To be called a knyght is fair,

For men shul knele to hym;

To be called a kyng is fairer,

{398}

For he may knyghtes make;

Ac to be conquerour called,

That cometh of special grace,

And of hardynesse of herte, 13020

And of hendenesse,

To make lordes of laddes

Of lond that he wynneth,

And fre men foule thralles

That folwen noght hise lawes.

"The Jewes that were gentil men,

Jhesus thei despised,

Bothe his loore and his lawe;

Now are thei lowe cherles.

As wide as the world is, 13030

Noon of hem ther wonyeth

But under tribut and taillage,

As tikes and cherles;

And tho that bicome cristene

Bi counseil of the baptisme,

Aren frankeleyns, free men,

Thorugh fullynge that thei toke,

And gentil men with Jhesu;

For Jhesu was y-fulled,

And upon Calvarie on cros 13040

Y-crouned kyng of Jewes.

"It bicometh to a kyng

To kepe and to defende;

And conquerour of conquest

Hise lawes and his large.

And so dide Jhesus the Jewes,

He justified and taughte hem

The lawe of lif,

That laste shal evere;

And defended from foule yveles, 13050

{399}

Feveres and fluxes,

And from fendes that in hem were,

And false bileve.

Tho was he Jhesus of Jewes called,

Gentile prophete,

And kyng of hir kyngdom,

And croune bar of thornes.

"And tho conquered he on cros,

As conquerour noble.

Mighte no deeth hym for-do, 13060

Ne a-doun brynge,

That he naroos and regnede,

And ravysshed helle:

And tho was he conquerour called

Of quyke and of dede.

For he yaf Adam and Eve

And othere mo blisse,

That longe hadde y-leyen bifore

As Luciferis cherles.

"And sith he yaf largely 13070

Alle hise lele liges

Places in Paradis,

At hir partynge hennes;

He may wel be called conquerour,

And that is Crist to mene.

"Ac the cause that he cometh thus

With cros of his passion,

Is to wissen us therwith

That whan that we ben tempted,

Therwith to fighte and defenden us 13080

Fro fallynge to synne.

And so bi his sorwe,

That who so loveth joye

To penaunce and to poverte

{400}

He moste puten hymselven,

And muche wo in this world

To willen and suffren.

"Ac to carpe moore of Crist,

And how he com to that name,

Faithly for to speke, 13090

His firste name was Jhesus;

Tho he was born in Bethleem,

As the book telleth,

And cam to take mankynde,

Kynges and aungeles

Reverenced hym faire

With richesses of erthe,

Aungeles out of hevene

Come knelynge and songe,

_Gloria in excelsis Deo, etc._ 13100

"Kynges that come after

Knelede, and offrede

Mirre and muche gold,

Withouten mercy askynge

Or any kynnes catel,

But knowelichynge hym sovereyn

Bothe of lond, sonne, and see,

And sithenes thei wente

Into hir kyngene kith,

By counseil of aungeles. 13110

And there was that word fulfilled

The which thow of speke.

_Omnia cælestia terrestria flectantur

in hoc nomine Jhesu._

"For alle the aungeles of hevene

At his burthe knelede,

And al the wit of the world

Was in tho thre kynges,

{401}

Reson and rightwisnesse

And ruthe thei offrede; 13120

Wherfore and why

Wise men that tyme,

Maistres and lettred men,

_Magi_ hem callede.

"That o kyng cam with reson,

Covered under sense.

"The seconde kyng siththe

Soothliche offrede

Rightwisnesse under reed gold,

Resones felawe. 13130

For gold is likned to leautee

That laste shal evere.

"The thridde kyng tho kam

Knelynge to Jhesu,

And presented hym with pitee,

Apperynge by mirre.

For mirre is mercy to mene

And mylde speche of tonge.

"Thre y-liche honeste thynges

Were offred thus at ones, 13140

Thorugh thre kynne kynges

Knelynge to Jhesu,

"Ac for alle thise preciouse presentz,

Oure Lord kyng Jhesus

Was neither kyng ne conquerour,

Til he gan to wexe

In the manere of a man,

And that by muchel sleighte,

As it bi-cometh a conquerour

To konne manye sleightes, 13150

And manye wiles and wit,

That wole ben a ledere.

{402}

And so dide Jhesu in hise dayes,

Who so hadde tyme to telle it.

"Som tyme he suffrede,

And som tyme he hidde hym;

And some tyme he faught faste,

And fleigh outher while;

And som tyme he gaf good,

And grauntede heele bothe, 13160

Lif and lyme,

As hym liste he wroghte.

As kynde is of a conquerour,

So comsede Jhesu,

Til he hadde alle hem

That he for bledde.

"In his juventee this Jhesus

At Jewene feeste

Water into wyn turnede,

As holy writ telleth. 13170

And there bigan God

Of his grace to do-wel.

For wyn is likned to lawe

And lif-holynesse,

And lawe lakkede tho,

For men lovede noght hir enemys.

And Crist counseileth thus,

And comaundeth bothe,

To lered and to lewede

To lovyen oure enemys. 13180

So at the feeste first,

As I bifore tolde,

Bigan God of his grace

And goodnesse to do-wel.

And thanne was he called

Noght holy Crist, but Jhesu,

{403}

A faunt fyn ful of wit,

_Filius Mariæ._

For bifore his moder Marie

Made he that wonder; 13190

That she first and formest

Ferme sholde bileve

That he thorugh grace was gete,

And of no gome ellis.

He wroghte that by no wit,

But thorugh word one;

After the kynde that he cam of,

There comsede he do-wel.

"And whan he woxen was moore,

In his moder absence, 13200

He made lame to lepe,

And yaf light to blynde,

And fedde with two fisshes,

And with fyve loves,

Sore a fyngred folk

Mo than fyve thousand.

"Thus he confortede carefulle

And caughte a gretter name,

The which was Do-bet,

Where that he wente, 13210

For deve thorugh hise doynges to here

And dombe speke he made,

And alle he heeled and halp

That hym of grace askede.

And tho was he called in contré

Of the comune peple,

For the dedes that he dide,

_Fili David, Jhesus._

For David was doghtiest

Of dedes in his tyme. 13220

{404}

The burdes tho songe,

_Saul interfecit mille, et David decem millia._ =

"For-thi the contree ther Jhesu cam

Called hym _fili David_,

And nempned hym of Nazareth,

And no man so worthi

To be kaiser or kyng

Of the kyngdom of Juda,

Ne over Jewes justice, 13230

As Jhesus was, hem thoughte.

"Wherof Cayphas hadde envye,

And othere of the Jewes;

And for to doon hym to dethe

Day and nyght thei casten,

Killeden hym on cros wise

At Calvarie on Friday,

And sithen buriede his body,

And beden that men sholde,

Kepen it fro nyght comeris 13240

With knyghtes y-armed,

For no frendes sholde hym fecche.

For prophetes hem tolde

That that blissede body

Of burieles risen sholde,

And goon into Galilee,

And gladen hise apostles,

And his moder Marie;

Thus men bifore demede.

"The knyghtes that kepten it 13250

Bi-knewe it hemselven,

That aungeles and archaungeles

Er the day spronge

Come knelynge to the corps,

{405}

And songen _Christus resurgens_,

Verray men bifore hem alle,

And forth with hem he yede.

"The Jewes preide hem be pees,

And bi-soughte the knyghtes

Telle the comune that ther cam 13260

A compaignie of hise apostles,

And bi-wicched hem as thei woke,

And awey stolen it.

"Ac Marie Maudeleyne

Mette hym by the weye,

Goynge toward Galilee

In godhede and manhede,

And lyves and lokynge,

And she a-loud cride

In ech a compaignie ther she cam, 13270

_Christus resurgens_.

"Thus cam it out that Crist over-coom,

Recoverede and lyvede

_Sic oportet Christum pati et intrare, etc._ =

For that that wommen witeth,

May noght wel be counseille.

"Peter parceyved al this,

And pursued after,

Bothe James and Johan, 13280

Jhesu for to seke,

Thaddee and ten mo,

With Thomas of Inde.

And as alle thise wise wyes

Weren togideres,

In an hous al bi-shet,

And hir dore y-barred,

Crist cam in, and al closed

{406}

Bothe dore and yates,

To Peter and to thise apostles, 13290

And seide _pax vobis!_

And took Thomas by the hand,

And taughte hym to grope,

And feele with hise fyngres

His flesshliche herte.

"Thomas touched it,

And with his tonge seide,

'_Deus meus et Dominus meus_--

Thow art my lord, I bi-leve,

My God, lord Jhesu; 13300

Thow deidest and deeth tholedest,

And deme shalt us alle,

And now art lyvynge and lokynge,

And laste shalt evere.'

"Crist carpede thanne,

And curteisliche seide,

'Thomas, for thow trowest this,

And treweliche bi-levest it,

Blessed mote thow be,

And be shalt for evere; 13310

And blessed mote thei alle be

In body and in soule

That nevere shul se me in sighte,

As thow doost nowthe,

And lelliche bi-leve al this,

I love hem and blesse hem.'

_Beati qui non viderunt, etc._

"And whan this dede was doon,

Do-best he taughte,

And yaf Piers power, 13320

And pardon he grauntede,

To alle maner men

{407}

Mercy and forgifnesse,

Hym myght to assoille

Of alle manere synne,

In covenaunt that thei come

And kneweliched to paie

To Piers pardon the Plowman,

_Redde quod debes._

"Thus hath Piers power, 13330

By his pardon paied,

To bynde and unbynde,

Bothe here and ellis where;

And assoille men of alle synnes,

Save of dette one.

"Anoon after an heigh

Up into hevene

He wente, and wonyeth there,

And wol come at the laste,

And rewarde hym right wel 13340

That _reddit quod debet_,

Paieth parfitly,

As pure truthe wolde;

And what persone paieth it nought,

Punysshen he thenketh,

And demen hem at domes day

Bothe quyke and dede.

The goode to the godhede

And to greet joye,

And wikkede to wonye 13350

In wo withouten ende."

Thus Conscience of Crist

And of the cros carpede,

And counseiled me to knele therto.

And thanne cam, me thoughte,

Oon _spiritus paraclitus_

{408}

To Piers and to hise felawes

In liknesse of a lightnynge

He lighte on hem alle,

And made hem konne and knowe 13360

Alle kynne langages.

I wondred what that was,

And waggede Conscience,

And was a-fered of the light,

For in fires lightnesse

_Spiritus paraclitus_

Over-spradde hem alle.

Quod Conscience, and knelede,

"This is Cristes messager,

And cometh fro the grete God, 13370

And Grace is his name.

Knele now," quod Conscience,

"And if thow kanst synge,

Welcome hym and worshipe hym

With _Veni creator spiritus_."

Thanne song I that song,

So dide manye hundred,

And cride with Conscience,

"Help us, God of Grace!"

And thanne bigan Grace 13380

To go with Piers Plowman,

And counseillede hym and Conscience

The comune to sompne;

"For I wole dele to-day

And gyve divine grace

To alle kynne creatures

That han hir fyve wittes,

Tresour to lyve by

To hir lyves ende,

And wepne to fighte with 13390

{409}

That wole nevere faille.

For Antecrist and hise

Al the world shul greve,

And acombre thee, Conscience,

But if Crist thee helpe.

"And false prophetes fele,

Flatereris and gloseris,

Shullen come and be curatours

Over kynges and erles,

And Pride shal be pope, 13400

Prynce of holy chirche,

Coveitise and unkyndenesse

Cardinals hym to lede;

For-thi," quod Grace, "er I go,

I wol gyve yow tresor,

And wepne to fighte with

Whan Antecrist yow assaileth."

And gaf ech man a grace

To gide with hymselven,

That ydelnesse encombre hym noght, 13410

Envye ne pride.

_Divisiones gratiarum sunt, etc._

Some he yaf wit

With wordes to shewe,

Wit to wynne hir liflode with,

As the world asketh,

As prechours and preestes,

And prentices of lawe,

They lelly to lyve

By labour of tonge, 13420

And by wit to wissen othere

As grace hem wolde teche.

And some he kennede craft

And konnynge of sighte,

{410}

With sellynge and buggynge

Hir bilyve to wynne.

And some he lered to laboure,

A lele lif and a trewe;

And some he taughte to tilie,

To dyche and to thecche, 13430

To wynne with her liflode

Bi loore of his techynge.

And some to devyne and divide,

Noumbres to kenne;

And some to compace craftily,

And colours to make;

And some to se and to seye

What sholde bi-falle,

Bothe of wele and of wo,

Telle it er it felle, 13440

As astronomyens thorugh astronomye,

And philosofres wise.

And some to ryde, and to recovere

That wrongfully was wonne;

He wissed hem to wynne it ayein

Thorugh wightnesse of handes,

And fecchen it fro false men

With folvyles lawes.

And some he lered to lyve

In longynge to ben hennes, 13450

In poverte and in penaunce,

To preie for alle cristene.

And alle he lered to be lele,

And ech a craft love oother;

And forbad hem alle debat,

That noon were among hem.

"Though some be clenner than some,

Ye se wel," quod Grace,

{411}

"That he that useth the faireste craft,

To the fouleste I kouthe have put hym. 13460

Thynketh alle," quod Grace,

"That grace cometh of my gifte;

Loketh that no man lakke oother,

But loveth alle as bretheren.

"And who that moost maistries kan

Be myldest of berynge;

And crouneth Conscience kyng,

And maketh Craft youre stiward,

And after Craftes conseil

Clotheth yow and fede. 13470

For I make Piers the Plowman

My procuratour and my reve,

And registrer to receyve,

_Redde quod debes._

My prowor and my plowman

Piers shal ben on erthe,

And for to tilie truthe

A teeme shal he have."

Grace gaf Piers a teeme

Of foure grete oxen. 13480

That oon was Luk, a large beest,

And a lowe chered;

And Mark, and Mathew the thridde,

Myghty beestes bothe;

And joyned to hem oon Johan,

Moost gentil of alle,

The pris neet of Piers Plow,

Passynge all othere.

And Grace gaf Piers

Of his goodnesse foure stottes; 13490

Al that hise oxen eriede,

{412}

Thei to harewen after.

Oon highte Austyn,

And Ambrose another,

Gregori the grete clerk,

And Jerom the goode.

Thise foure the feith to teche

Folweth Piers teme,

And harewede in an hand while

Al holy Scripture, 13500

With two harewes that thei hadde,

An oold and a newe.

_Id est, vetus testamentum et novum._

And Grace gaf greynes,

The cardynal vertues,

And sew hem in mannes soule,

And sithen he tolde hir names.

_Spiritus prudentiæ._

The firste seed highte;

And who so ete that, 13510

Ymagynen he sholde

Er he deide any deeth,

Devyse wel the ende;

And lerned men a ladel bugge

With a long stele,

And caste for to kepe a crokke

To save the fatte above.

The seconde seed highte

_Spiritus temperantiæ._

He that ete of that seed 13520

Hadde swich a kynde,

Sholde nevere mete ne muchel drynke

Make hym to swelle,

Ne no scornere ne scolde

Out of skile hym bringe,

{413}

Ne wynnynge ne wele

Of worldliche richesse,

Waste word of ydelnesse

Ne wikked speche moeve;

Sholde no curious clooth 13530

Comen on his rugge,

Ne no mete in his mouth

That maister Johan spicede.

The thridde seed that Piers sew

Was _spiritus fortitudinis_.

And who ete that seed,

Hardy was he evere

To suffren al that God sente,

Siknesse and angres;

Mighte no lesynges ne lyere, 13540

Ne los of worldly catel,

Maken hym for any mournynge

That he nas murie in soule,

And bold and abidynge

Bismares to suffre;

And pleieth al with pacience

And _parce mihi domine_;

And covered hym under conseille

Of Caton the wise:

_Esto forti animo, cum sis dampnatus inique._ =

The ferthe seed that Piers sew 13552

Was _spiritus justitiæ_.

And he that ete of that seed,

Sholde be evere trewe,

With God, and naught a-gast,

But of gile one;

For gile gooth so pryvely,

That good feith outher while

{414}

Maye nought ben espied, 13560

For _spiritus justitiæ_.

_Spiritus justitiæ._

Spareth noght to spille

Hem that ben gilty,

And for to correcte

The kyng, if he falle

In gilt or in trespas.

For counteth he no kynges wrathe,

Whan he in court sitteth

To demen as a domesman, 13570

A-drad was he nevere

Neither of duc ne of deeth,

That he ne dide lawe,

For present or for preiere,

Or any prynces lettres;

He dide equité to alle

Evene forth his power.

Thise foure sedes Piers sew;

And siththe he dide hem harewe

With olde lawe and newe lawe, 13580

That love myghte wexe

Among tho foure vertues,

And vices destruye.

For comunliche in contrees

Cammokes and wedes

Foulen the fruyt in the feld,

Ther thei growen togideres;

And so doon vices

Vertues worthi.

Quod Piers, "Hareweth alle that konneth kynde wit,

By conseil of thise doctours; 13591

And tilieth after hir techynge

{415}

The cardynale vertues."

"Ayeins thei greynes," quod Grace,

"Bi-gynneth for to ripe,

Ordeigne thee an hous, Piers,

To herberwe inne thi cornes."

"By God! Grace," quod Piers,

"Ye moten gyve tymber,

And ordeyne that hous, 13600

Er ye hennes wende."

And Grace gaf hym the cros,

With the croune of thornes,

That Crist upon Calvarie

For mankynde on pyned,

And of his baptisme and blood

That he bledde on roode

He made a manere morter,

And mercy it highte.

And therwith Grace bi-gan 13610

To make a good foundement,

And watlede it and walled it

With his peyne and his passion,

And of al holy writ

He made a roof after,

And called that hous _Unitee_,

Holy chirche on Englisshe.

And whan this dede was doon,

Grace devysede

A cart highte cristendom 13620

To carie Piers sheves;

And gaf hym caples to his carte,

Contricion and confession;

And made preesthod hayward,

The while hymself wente

As wide as the world is

{416}

With Piers to tilie truthe.

Now is Piers to the plow;

And Pride it aspide,

And gadered hym a greet oost, 13630

For to greven he thynketh

Conscience and alle cristene

And cardinale vertues,

Blowe hem doun and breke hem,

And bite a-two the mores;

And sente forth Surquidous,

His sergeaunt of armes,

And his spye Spille-love,

Oon Spek-yvel bihynde.

Thise two coome to Conscience, 13640

And to cristen peple,

And tolde hem tidynges,

That tyne thei sholde the sedes

That Piers there hadde y-sowen,

The cardynale vertues;

"And Piers bern worth y-broke,

And thei that ben in _Unitee_

Shulle come out, and Conscience

And youre two caples,

Confession and Contricion; 13650

And youre carte the bileeve

Shal be coloured so queyntely,

And covered under sophistrie,

That Conscience shal noght

Knowe by Contricion

Ne by Confession

Who is cristene or hethene;

Ne no manere marchaunt

That with moneie deleth,

Wheither he wynne with right, 13660

{417}

With wrong, or with usure.

"With swiche colours and queyntise

Cometh Pride y-armed,

With the lord that lyveth after

The lust of his body,

To wasten on welfare,

And in wikked lyvynge,

Al the world in a while

Thorugh oure wit," quod Pryde.

Quod Conscience to alle cristene tho, 13670

"My counseil is to wende

Hastiliche into Unitee,

And holde we us there;

And praye we that a pees weere

In Piers berne the Plowman.

For witterly I woot wel,

We beth noght of strengthe

To goon agayn Pride,

But Grace weere with us."

And thanne kam Kynde Wit 13680

Conscience to teche,

And cryde and comaundede

Alle cristene peple

For to delven a dych

Depe aboute Unitee,

That holy chirche stode in Unitee,

As it a pyl weere.

Conscience comaundede tho

Alle cristene to delve,

And make a muche moot, 13690

That myghte ben a strengthe

To helpe holy chirche

And hem that it kepeth.

Thanne alle kynne cristene,

{418}

Save comune wommen,

Repenteden and refused synne,

Save thei one,

And false men, flatereris,

Usurers, and theves,

Lyeris, and queste-mongeres 13700

That were for-sworen ofte,

Witynge and wilfully

With the false helden,

And for silver were for-swore,

Soothly they wiste it.

Ther nas no cristene creature

That kynde wit hadde,

Save sherewes one

Swiche as I spak of,

That he ne halp a quantité 13710

Holynesse to wexe,

Some thorugh bedes biddynge,

And some thorugh pilgrymages

And othere pryvé penaunces,

And somme thorugh penyes delynge.

And thanne wellede water

For wikkede werkes,

Egreliche ernynge

Out of mennes eighen,

Clennesse out of comune, 13720

And clerkes clene lyvynge,

Made Unitee holy chirche

In holynesse to stonde.

"I care noght," quod Conscience,

"Though Pride come nouthe.

The lord of lust shal be letted

Al this lente, I hope.

Cometh," quod Conscience,

{419}

"Ye cristene, and dyneth,

That han laboured lelly 13730

Al this lenten tyme.

Here is breed y-blessed,

And Goddes body therunder:

Grace, thorugh Goddes word,

Yaf Piers power

And myghtes to maken it,

And men to ete it after

In helpe of hir heele

Ones in a monthe,

Or as ofte as thei hadde nede, 13740

Tho that hadde y-paied

To Piers pardon the Plowman.

_Redde quod debes._"

"How?" quod al the comune,

"Thow conseillest us to yelde

Al that we owen any wight,

Er we go to housel?"

"That is my conseil," quod Conscience,

"And cardinale vertues,

That ech man for-gyve oother, 13750

And that wol the pater-noster.

_Et dimitte nobis debita nostra, etc._

And so to ben assoilled,

And siththen ben houseled."

"Ye, baw!" quod a brewere,

"I wol noght be ruled,

By Jhesu! for al youre janglynge

With _spiritus justitiæ_,

Ne after Conscience, by Crist!

While I kan selle 13760

Bothe dregges and draf,

And drawe it out at oon hole

{420}

Thikke ale and thynne ale,

For that is my kynde,

And noght hakke after holynesse.

Hold thi tonge, Conscience!

Of _spiritus justitiæ_,

Thow spekest muche on ydel."

"Caytif!" quod Conscience,

"Cursede wrecche! 13770

Un-blessed artow, brewere,

But if thee God helpe.

But thow lyve by loore

Of _spiritus justitiæ_,

The chief seed that Piers sew,

Y-saved worstow nevere.

But Conscience the comune fede,

And cardinale vertues,

Leve it wel, thei ben lost,

Bothe lif and soule." 13780

"Thanne is many a man lost,"

Quod a lewed vicory.--

"I am a curatour of holy kirke,

And cam nevere in my tyme

Man to me, that me kouthe telle

Of cardinale vertues,

Or that acountede Conscience

At a cokkes fethere or an hennes.

I knew nevere cardynal,

That he ne cam fro the pope; 13790

And we clerkes, whan thei come,

For hir comunes paieth,

For hir pelure and hir palfreyes mete,

And pilours that hem folweth.

"The comune _clamat cotidie_

Ech a man til oother,

{421}

The contree is the corseder

That cardinals comme inne;

And ther thei ligge and lenge moost,

Lecherie there regneth. 13800

"For-thi," quod this vicory,

"By verray God! I wolde

That no cardynal coome

Among the comune peple;

But in hir holynesse

Helden hem stille

At Avynone among the Jewes,--

_Cum sancto sanctus eris, etc._--

Or in Rome, as hir rule wole,

The relikes to kepe; 13810

And thow, Conscience, in kynges court,

And sholdest nevere come thennes;

And Grace, that thow graddest so of,

Gyour of alle clerkes;

And Piers with his newe plow,

And ek with his olde,

Emperour of al the world,

That alle men were cristene.

"Inparfit is that pope

That al the world sholde helpe, 13820

And sendeth swiche that sleeth hem

That he sholde save.

"And wel worthe Piers the Plowman,

That pursueth God in doynge,

_Qui pluit super justos

Et injustos_ at ones,

And sent the sonne to save

A cursed mannes tilthe,

As brighte as to the beste man,

Or to the beste womman. 13830

{422}

"Right so Piers the Plowman

Peyneth hym to tilye

As wel for a wastour

And wenches of the stewes,

As for hymself and his servauntz,

Save he is first y-served;

And travailleth and tilieth

For a tretour also soore

As for a trewe tidy man,

Alle tymes y-like. 13840

And worshiped be he that wroghte al,

Bothe good and wikke,

And suffreth that synfulle be,

[Tyl som tyme that thei repenten].

And God amende the pope!

That pileth holy kirke,

And cleymeth bifore the kyng

To be kepere over cristene;

And counteth noght though cristene ben

Killed and robbed; 13850

And fynt folk to fighte,

And cristen blood to spille,

Ayein the olde lawe and newe lawe,

As Luc therof witnesseth.

_Non occides, mihi vindictam, etc._

"It semeth, bi so

Hymself hadde his wille,

That he reccheth right noght

Of al the remenaunt.

And Crist of his curteisie 13860

The cardinals save,

And torne hir wit to wisdom,

And to welthe of soule!

For the comune," quod this curatour,

{423}

"Counten ful litel

The counseil of Conscience,

Or cardinale vertues.

But if thei seighe, as by sighte,

Som what to wynnyng,

Of gile ne of gabbyng 13870

Gyve thei nevere tale.

For _spiritus prudentiæ_

Among the peple is gyle;

And alle tho faire vertues

As vices thei semeth.

Ech man subtileth a sleighte

Synne for to hide,

And coloureth it for a konnynge,

And a clene lyvynge."

Thanne lough ther a lord, 13880

And "By this light!" seide,

"I holde it right and reson

Of my reve to take

Al that myn auditour,

Or ellis my styward,

Counseilleth me bi hir acounte

And my clerkes writyng.

With _spiritus intellectus_

Thei seke the reves rolles;

And with _spiritus fortitudinis_ 13890

Fecche it I wole after."

And thanne cam ther a kyng,

And, by his croune! seide,

"I am kyng with croune

The comune to rule,

And holy kirke and clergie

From cursed men to fende;

And if me lakketh to lyve by,

{424}

The lawe wole I take it

Ther I may hastilokest it have. 13900

For I am heed of lawe;

And ye ben but membres,

And I above alle.

And sith I am youre aller heed,

I am youre aller heele,

And holy chirches chief help,

And chieftayn of the comune;

And what I take of yow two,

I take it at the techynge

Of _spiritus justitiæ_, 13910

For I jugge yow alle.

So I may boldely be housled,

For I borwe nevere,

Ne crave of my comune,

But as my kynde asketh."

"In condicion," quod Conscience,

"That thow konne defende

And rule thi reaume in reson,

Right wel and in truthe,

Take thow mayst in reson 13920

As thi lawe asketh.

_Omnia tua sunt ad defendendum,

sed non ad deprædandum._"

The viker hadde fer hoom,

And faire took his leeve;

And I awakned therwith,

And wroot as me mette. 13927

* * * * *

{425}

_Passus Vicesimus de Visione, et Primus de Do-best._

Thanne as I wente by the wey, 13928

Whan I was thus awaked,

Hevy-chered I yede,

And elenge in herte;

I ne wiste wher to ete,

Ne at what place,

And it neghed neigh the noon,

And with Nede I mette

That afrounted me foule,

And faitour me called:

"Kanstow noght excuse thee,

As dide the kyng and othere,

That thow toke to thy bilyve, 13940

To clothes and to sustenaunce;

And by techynge and by tellynge

Of _spiritus temperantiæ_,

And thow nome na-moore

Than nede thee taughte,

And nede he hath no lawe,

Ne nevere shal falle in dette;

For thre thynges he taketh,

His lif for to save.

"That is mete, whan men hym werneth 13950

{426}

And he no moneye weldeth,

Ne wight noon wol ben his borugh,

Ne wed hath noon to legge;

And he caughte in that caas,

And come therto by sleighte,

He synneth noght, soothliche,

That so wynneth his foode.

"And though he come so to a clooth,

And kan no bettre chevyssaunce,

Nede anoon righte 13960

Nymeth hym under maynprise.

"And if hym list for to lape,

The lawe of kynde wolde

That he dronke at ech dych,

Er he for thurst deide.

So Nede al gret nede

May nymen, as for his owene,

Withouten counseil of Conscience

Or cardynale vertues,

So that he sewe and save 13970

_Spiritus temperantiæ_.

"For is no vertue bi fer

To _spiritus temperantiæ_;

Ne _spiritus justitiæ_

Ne _spiritus fortitudinis_.

For _spiritus fortitudinis_

Forfeteth ful ofte.

He shal do moore than mesure

Many tyme and ofte,

And bete men over bittre, 13980

And some of hem to litel,

And greve men gretter

Than good feith it wolde

{427}

"And _spiritus justitiæ_

Shal juggen, wol he nele he,

After the kynges counseil,

And the comune like.

And _spiritus prudentiæ_

In many a point shal faille

Of that he weneth wolde falle, 13990

If his wit ne weere.

Wenynge is no wysdom,

Ne wys ymaginacion,

_Homo proponit, et Deus disponit_,

And governeth alle goode vertues;

Ac Nede is next hym,

For anoon he meketh,

And as lowe as a lomb,

For lakkyng of that hym nedeth.

Wise men forsoke wele, 14000

For thei wolde be nedy,

And woneden in wildernesse,

And wolde noght he riche.

"And God al his grete joye

Goostliche he lefte,

And cam and took mankynde,

And bi-cam nedy.

So nedy he was, as seith the book,

In manye sondry places,

That he seide in his sorwe 14010

On the selve roode,

Bothe fox and fowel

May fle to hole and crepe,

And the fissh hath fyn

To flete with to reste,

Ther Nede hath y-nome me

That I moot nede abide

{428}

And suffre sorwes ful soure

That shal to joye torne,

For-thi be noght abasshed 14020

To bide and to be nedy;

Sith he that wroghte al the world

Was wilfulliche nedy,

Ne nevere noon so nedy

Ne poverer deide."

Whan Nede hath under-nome me thus,

Anoon I fil a-slepe;

And mette ful merveillously,

That in mannes forme

Antecrist cam thanne, 14030

And al the crop of Truthe

Torned it up-so-doun,

And over-tilte the roote;

And fals sprynge and sprede,

And spede mennes nedes,

In ech a contree ther he cam

He kutte awey truthe,

And gerte gile growe there,

As he a Good weere.

Freres folwede that fend, 14040

For he gaf hem copes;

And religiouse reverenced hym,

And rongen hir belles,

And al the covent forth cam

To welcome that tyraunt,

And alle hise as wel as hym,

Save oonly fooles.

Whiche foolis were wel levere

To deye than to lyve

{429}

Lenger, sith Lenten 14050

Was so rebuked.

And as a fals fend, Antecrist

Over alle folk regnede,

Save that were mylde men and holye,

That no meschief dradden,

Defyed alle falsnesse

And folk that it usede;

And what kyng that hem conforted,

Knowynge hem any while,

They cursed and hir conseil, 14060

Were it clerk or lewed.

Antecrist hadde thus soone

Hundredes at his baner,

And Pride it bar

Boldely aboute,

With a lord that lyveth

After likyng of body,

That kam ayein Conscience,

That kepere was and gyour

Over kynde cristene 14070

And cardynale vertues.

"I conseille," quod Conscience tho,

"Cometh with me, ye fooles,

Into Unité holy chirche,

And holde we us there;

And crye we to kynde

That he come and defende us,

Fooles, fro thise fendes lymes,

For Piers love the Plowman;

And crye we to al the comune, 14080

That thei come to Unitee,

And there abide and bikere

Ayeins Beliales children."

{430}

Kynde Conscience tho herde,

And cam out of the planetes,

And sente forth his forreyours,

Feveres and fluxes,

Coughes and cardiacles,

Crampes and tooth-aches,

Rewmes and radegundes, 14090

And roynous scabbes,

Biles and bocches,

And brennynge agues,

Frenesies and foule yveles,

Forageres of kynde,

Hadde y-priked and prayed

Polles of peple,

That largeliche a legion

Loste hir lif soone.

There was, "Harrow and help! 14100

Here cometh Kynde,

With Deeth that is dredful

To undo us alle!"

The lord that lyved after lust

Tho aloud cryde

After Confort, a knyght,

To come and bere his baner;

"_A l'arme! à l'arme!_" quod that lord,

"Ech lif kepe his owene!"

And thanne mette thise men, 14110

Er mynstrals myghte pipe,

And er heraudes of armes

Hadden discryved lordes,

Elde the hoore

That was in the vaunt-warde.

And bar the baner bifore Deeth,

Bi right he it cleymede.

{431}

Kynde cam after,

With many kene soores,

As pokkes and pestilences, 14120

And muche peple shente;

So Kynde thorugh corrupcions

Kilde ful manye.

Deeth cam dryvynge after,

And al to duste passhed

Kynges and knyghtes,

Kaysers and popes,

Lered and lewed,

He leet no man stonde

That he hitte evene, 14130

That evere stired after.

Manye a lovely lady,

And lemmans of knyghtes,

Swowned and swelted

For sorwe of hise dyntes.

Conscience of his curteisie

To Kynde he bi-soughte

To cesse and suffre,

And see wher thei wolde

Leve Pride pryvely, 14140

And be parfite cristene.

And Kynde cessede tho

To se the peple amende.

Fortune gan flatere thanne

Tho fewe that were alyve,

And bi-highte hem long lif,

And Lecherie he sente

Amonges alle manere men,

Wedded and unwedded,

And gaderede a greet hoost 14150

Al agayn Conscience.

{432}

This Lecherie leide on

With a janglynge chiere,

And with pryvee speche

And peyntede wordes;

And armede hym in ydelnesse,

And in heigh berynge.

He bar a bowe in his hand,

And manye brode arewes,

Weren fethered with fair bi-heste 14160

And many a fals truthe.

With hise un-tidy tales

He tened ful ofte.

Conscience and his compaignye,

Of holy chirche the techeris.

Thanne cam Coveitise,

And caste how he myghte

Overcome Conscience

And cardinale vertues,

And armed hym in avarice, 14170

And hungriliche lyvede.

His wepne was al wiles

To wynnen and to hiden;

With glosynges and with gabbynges

He giled the peple.

Symonye hym sente

To assaille Conscience,

And preched to the peple;

And prelates thei hem maden

To holden with Antecrist, 14180

His temporaltees to save;

And cam to the kynges counseille

As a kene baroun,

And kneled to Conscience

In court afore hem alle,

{433}

And garte good feith flee,

And fals to abide;

And boldeliche bar a-doun,

With many a bright noble,

Muche of the wit and wisdom 14190

Of Westmynstre Halle.

He jogged to a justice,

And justed in his eere,

And over-tilte al his truthe

With "Tak this up amendement."

And to the Arches in haste

He yede anoon after,

And tornede cyvyle into symonye,

And siththe he took the official

For a mantel of menever, 14200

And made lele matrymoyne

Departen er deeth cam,

And devors shapte.

"Allas!" quod Conscience, and cryde tho,

"Wolde Crist of his grace

That coveitise were cristene!

That is so kene a fightere,

And boold and bidynge

While his bagge lasteth."

And thanne lough Lyf, 14210

And leet daggen hise clothes,

And armed hym an haste

With harlotes wordes;

And heeld holynesse a jape,

And hendenesse a wastour;

And leet leautee a cherl,

And lyere a fre man;

Conscience and his counseil

He counted at a flye

{434}

Thus relyede Lif, 14220

For a litel fortune;

And priketh forth with Pride,

Preiseth he no vertue,

Ne careth noght how Kynde slow,

And shal come at the laste,

And kille alle erthely creatures,

Save Conscience oone.

Lyf lepte aside,

And laughte hym a lemman;

"Heele and I," quod he, 14230

"And heighnesse of herte,

Shal do thee noght drede

Neither deeth ne elde,

And to forgyte sorwe,

And gyve noght of synne."

This likede Lif,

And his lemman Fortune;

And geten in hir glorie

A gadelyng at the laste,

Oon that muche wo wroghte, 14240

Sleuthe was his name.

Sleuthe wax wonder yerne,

And soone was of age,

And wedded oon Wanhope,

A wenche of the stuwes.

Hir sire was a sysour

That nevere swoor truthe,

Oon Tomme Two-tonge,

Atteynt at ech enqueste.

This Sleuthe was war of werre, 14250

And a slynge made,

And threw drede of dispair

A dozeyne myle aboute.

{435}

For care Conscience tho

Cryde upon Elde,

And bad hym fonde to fighte,

And a-fere Wanhope.

And Elde hente good hope,

And hastiliche he shifte hym,

And wayved awey Wanhope, 14260

And with Lif he fighteth.

And Lif fleigh for feere

To phisik after helpe,

And bi-soughte hym of socour,

And of his salve he hadde.

He gaf hym gold good woon,

That gladede his herte;

And thei gyven hym ageyn

A glazene howve.

Lyf leeved that lechecraft 14270

Lette sholde elde,

And dryven awey deeth

With dyas and drogges.

And Elde auntred hym on lyf,

And at the laste he hitte

A phisicien with a furred hood,

That he fel in a palsie,

And there dyed that doctour

Er thre dayes after.

"Now I se," seide Lif, 14280

"That surgerie ne phisik

May noght a myte availle

To mede ayein Elde."

And in hope of his heele

Good herte he hente,

And rood forth to a revel,

A ryche place and a murye;

{436}

The compaignye of confort

Men cleped it som tyme.

And Elde anoon after me 14290

And over myn heed yede;

And made me balled bifore,

And bare on the crowne.

So harde he yede over myn heed,

It wole be sene evere.

"Sire yvele y-taught, Elde!" quod I,

"Unhende go with the!

Sith whanne was the wey

Over mennes heddes?

Haddestow be hende," quod I, 14300

"Thow woldest have asked leeve."

"Ye, leve lurdeyn!" quod he;

And leyde on me with age,

And hitte me under the ere,

Unnethe myghte ich here.

He buffetted me so aboute the mouth,

That out my teeth he bette;

And gyved me in goutes,

I may noght goon at large.

And of the wo that I was inne 14310

My wif hadde ruthe,

And wisshed ful witterly

That I were in hevene;

For the lyme that she loved me fore,

And leef was to feele,--

On nyghtes, namely,

Whan we naked weere,--

I ne myghte in no manere

Maken it at hir wille;

So Elde and she, soothly, 14320

Hadden it for-beten.

{437}

And as I seet in this sorwe,

I saugh how Kynde passede;

And Deeth drogh neigh me.

For drede gan I quake,

And cryde to Kynde,

"Out of care me brynge!

Lo! Elde the hoore

Hath me bi-seye.

Awreke me! if youre wille be, 14330

For I wolde ben hennes."

"If thow wolt be wroken,

Wend into Unitee,

And hold thee there evere,

Til I sende for thee;

And loke thow konne som craft,

Er thow come thennes."

"Counseille me, Kynde," quod I,

"What craft is best to lerne."

"Lerne to love," quod Kynde, 14340

"And leef of alle othere."

"How shal I come to catel so,

To clothe me and to feede?"

"And thow love lelly," quod he,

"Lakke shal thee nevere

Mete ne worldly weede,

While thi lif lasteth."

And there by conseil of Kynde

I comsed to rome

Thorugh Contricion and Confession, 14350

Til I cam to Unitee.

And there was Conscience conestable

Cristene to save,

And bisegede soothly

With sevene grete geauntz

{438}

That with Antechrist helden

Harde ayein Conscience.

Sleuthe with his slynge

An hard assaut he made.

Proude preestes coome with hym 14360

Mo than a thousand,

In paltokes and pyked shoes,

And pisseris longe knyves,

Coomen ayein Conscience,

With Coveitise thei helden.

"By Marie!" quod a mansed preest

Of the Marche of Walys,

"I counte na-moore Conscience,

By so I cacche silver,

Than I do to drynke 14370

A draughte of good ale."

And so seiden sixty

Of the same contree;

And shotten ayein with shot

Many a sheef of othes,

And brode hoked arwes,

Goddes herte and hise nayles;

And hadden almoost Unitee,

And holynesse a-down.

Conscience cryede, "Helpe, Clergie! 14380

Or ellis I falle,

Thorugh inparfite preestes

And prelates of holy chirche."

Freres herden hym crye,

And comen hym to helpe;

Ac for thei kouthe noght wel hir craft,

Conscience forsook hem.

Nede neghede tho neer,

And Conscience he tolde

{439}

That thei come for coveitise 14390

To have cure of soules;

"And for thei are povere, peraventure,

For patrymoyne thei faille,

They wol flatere and fare wel

With folk that ben riche.

And sithen thei chosen chele

And cheitiftee poverte,

Lat hem chewe as thei chose,

And charge hem with no cure.

For lomere he lyeth, 14400

That liflode moot begge,

Than he that laboureth for liflode,

And leneth it beggeris.

And sithen freres forsoke

The felicité of erthe,

Lat hem be as beggeris,

Or lyve by aungeles foode."

Conscience of this counseil tho

Comsede for to laughe,

And curteisliche conforted hem, 14410

And called in alle freres,

And seide, "Sires, soothly

Welcome be ye alle

To Unitee and holy chirche;

Ac o thyng I yow preye,

Holdeth yow in Unitee,

And haveth noon envye

To lered ne to lewed,

But lyveth after youre reule,

And I wol be youre borugh 14420

Ye shal have breed and clothes

And othere necessaries y-nowe,

Yow shal no thyng faille,

{440}

With that ye leve logik,

And lerneth for to lovye.

For love lafte thei lordshipe,

Bothe lond and scole,

Frere Fraunceys and Domynyk,

For love to be holye.

"And if ye coveite cure, 14430

Kynde wol yow teche

That in mesure God made

Alle manere thynges,

And sette hem at a certein

And a siker nombre,

And nempnede names newe,

And noumbrede the sterres.

_Qui numerat multitudinem stellarum,

et omnibus eis, etc._

"Kynges and knyghtes 14440

That kepen and defenden,

Han officers under hem,

And ech of hem a certein.

And if thei wage men to werre,

Thei write hem in noumbre;

Alle othere in bataille

Ben y-holde brybours,

Pylours and pyke-harneys,

In ech a place y-cursed,

Wol no man tresore hem paie, 14450

Travaille thei never so soore.

"Monkes and moniales,

And alle men of religion,

Hir ordre and hir reule wole

To han a certein noumbre,

Of lewed and of lered,

The lawe wole and asketh

{441}

A certein for a certein,

Save oonliche of freres.

"For thi," quod conscience, "by Crist! 14460

Kynde wit me telleth

It is wikked to wage yow,

Ye wexen out of noumbre;

Hevene hath evene noumbre,

And helle is withoute noumbre.

For-thi I wolde witterly

That ye were in the registre,

And youre noumbre under notaries signe,

And neither mo ne lasse."

Envye herde this, 14470

And heet freres to go to scole

And lerne logyk and lawe,

And ek contemplacion,

And preche men of Plato,

And preve it by Seneca,

That alle thynges under hevene

Oughte to ben in comune.

And yet he lyeth, as I leve,

That to the lewed so precheth;

For God made to men a lawe, 14480

And Moyses it taughte.

_Non concupisces rem proximi tui._

And yvele in this y-holde

In parisshes of Engelonde;

For persons and parissh-preestes

That sholde the peple shryve,

Ben curatours called,

To knowe and to hele

Alle that ben hir parisshens,

Penaunce to enjoigne; 14490

And sholden be ashamed in his shrift;

{442}

Ac shame maketh hem wende

And fleen to the freres,

As fals folk to Westmynstre,

That borweth, and bereth it thider,

And thanne biddeth frendes

Yerne of forgifnesse,

Or lenger yeres loone.

Ac while he is in Westmynstre,

He wol be bifore, 14500

And maken hym murie

With oother mennes goodes.

And so it fareth with muche folk

That to the freres hem shryveth,

As sisours and executours,

Thei wol gyve the freres

A parcel to preye for hem,

And make hemself murye

With the residue and the remenaunt

That othere men bi-swonke, 14510

And suffre the dede in dette

To the day of doome.

Envye herfore

Hatede Conscience;

And freres to philosophie

He fond thanne to scole,

The while Coveitise and Unkyndenesse,

Conscience assaillede.

In Unitee holy chirche

Conscience held hym, 14520

And made Pees porter

To pynne the yates,

Of alle tale-telleris

And titeleris in ydel

{443}

Ypocrisie and he

An hard assaut thei made,

And woundede wel wikkedly

Many a wis techere

That with Conscience acordede

And cardynale vertues. 14530

Conscience called a leche,

That koude wel shryve,

To go salve tho that sike ben

And thorugh synne y-wounded

Shrift shoop sharpe salve,

And made men do penaunce

For hir mys-dedes

That thei wroght hadde,

And that Piers were y-payed:

_Redde quod debes._ 14540

Some liked noght this leche,

And lettres thei sente,

If any surgien were the segge

That softer koude plastre.

Sire Leef-to-lyve-in-lecherie

Lay there and gronede,

For fastynge of a Frydaye

He ferde as he wolde deye.

"Ther is a surgien in this sege

That softe kan handle, 14550

And moore of phisik bi fer

And fairer he plastreth,

Oon frere Flaterere,

Is phisicien and surgien."

Quod Contricion to Conscience,

"Do hym come to Unitee;

For here is many a man

{444}

Hurt thorugh Ypocrisye."

"We han no nede," quod Conscience,

"I woot no bettre leche 14560

Than person or parisshe-preest,

Penitauncer or bisshope,

Save Piers the Plowman,

That hath power over hem alle,

And indulgence may do,

But if dette lette it."

"I may wel suffre," seide Conscience,

"Syn ye desiren

That frere Flaterere be fet

And phisike yow sike." 14570

The frere herof herde

And hiede faste

To a lord for a lettre,

Leve to have to curen,

As a curatour he were;

And cam with hise lettres

Boldely to the bisshope,

And his brief hadde,

In contrees ther he coome

Confessions to here, 14580

And cam there Conscience was,

And knokked at the yate.

Pees unpynned it,

Was porter of Unitee,

And in haste askede

What his wille were.

"In faith!" quod this frere,

"For profit and for helthe

Carpe I wolde with Contricion,

And therfore cam I hider." 14590

"He is sik," seide Pees,

{445}

"And so are manye othere.

Ypocrisie hath hurt hem,

Ful hard is if thei kevere."

"I am a surgien," seide the segge,

"And salves kan make.

Conscience knoweth me wel,

And what I kan do bothe."

"I praye thee," quod Pees tho,

"Er thow passe ferther, 14600

What hattestow? I praye thee;

Hele noght thi name."

"Certes," seide his felawe,

"Sire _Penetrans-domos_."

"Ye, go thi gate," quod Pees,

"By God! for al thi phisik,

But thow konne som oother craft,

Thow comest nought herinne.

I knew swich oon ones,

Noght eighte wynter hennes, 14610

Coom in thus y-coped

At a court there I dwelde,

And was my lordes leche,

And my ladies bothe.

And at the laste this lymytour,

Tho my lord was oute,

He salvede so oure wommen

Til some were with childe."

Hende-speche heet Pees

Open the yates, 14620

"Lat in the frere and his felawe,

And make hem fair cheere;

He may se and here,

So it may bifalle

That lif thorugh his loore

{446}

Shal leve Coveitise,

And be a-drad of Deeth,

And withdrawe hym fram Pryde,

And acorde with Conscience,

And kisse hir either oother." 14630

Thus thorugh Hende-speche

Entred the frere,

And cam in to Conscience,

And curteisly hym grette.

"Thou art welcome," quod Conscience,

"Kanstow heele the sike?

Here is Contricion," quod Conscience,

"My cosyn, y-wounded.

Conforte hym," quod Conscience,

"And tak kepe to hise soores. 14640

The plastres of the person

And poudres biten to soore;

He lat hem ligge over longe,

And looth is to chaunge hem;

Fro lenten to lenten

He lat hise plastres bite."

"That is over longe," quod this lymytour,

"I leve I shal amende it."

And gooth and gropeth Contricion,

And gaf hym a plastre 14650

Of 'a pryvee paiement,

And I shal praye for yow

For al that ye ben holden to,

Al my lif tyme,

And make yow, my lady,

In masse and in matyns

As frere of oure fraternytee

{447}

For a litel silver.'

Thus he gooth and gadereth,

And gloseth there he shryveth, 14660

Til Contricion hadde clene foryeten

To crye and to wepe;

And wake for hise wikked werkes,

As he was wont to doone,

For confort of his confessour

Contricion he lafte,

That is the soverayneste salve

For alle kynne synnes.

Sleuthe seigh that,

And so dide Pryde, 14670

And comen with a kene wille

Conscience to assaille.

Conscience cryed eft,

And bad Clergie helpe hym,

And also Contricion,

For to kepe the yate.

"He lyth and dremeth," seide Pees,

"And so do manye othere,

The frere with his phisyk

This folk hath enchaunted, 14680

And plastred hem so esily,

Thei drede no synne."

"By Crist!" quod Conscience tho,

"I wole bicome a pilgrym,

And walken as wide

As the world lasteth,

To seken Piers the Plowman,

That Pryde may destruye;

And that freres hadde a fyndyng,

That for nede flateren, 14690

And countrepledeth me, Conscience.

{448}

Now Kynde me avenge,

And sende me hap and heele,

Til I have Piers the Plowman."

And siththe he gradde after Grace,

Til I gan awake. 14696

_Explicit hic Dialogus Petri Plowman._

* * * * *