But thilke wronges may I nat endure
That thou spekest of our goddes here,’ quod he.
Cecile answerede, ‘o nyce creature,
Thou seydest no word sin thou spak to me
That I ne knew therwith thy nycetee; 495
And that thou were, in every maner wyse,
A lewed officer and a veyn Iustyse.
Ther lakketh no-thing to thyn utter yën
That thou nart blind, for thing that we seen alle
That it is stoon, that men may wel espyen, 500
That ilke stoon a god thou wolt it calle.
I rede thee, lat thyn hand upon it falle,
And taste it wel, and stoon thou shalt it finde,
Sin that thou seest nat with thyn yën blinde.
[525: T. 15973-16005.]
It is a shame that the peple shal 505
So scorne thee, and laughe at thy folye;
For comunly men woot it wel overal,
That mighty god is in his hevenes hye,
And thise images, wel thou mayst espye,
To thee ne to hem-self mowe nought profyte, 510
For in effect they been nat worth a myte.’