William Langland: Piers Plowman: The Z Version Edited by A. G. Rigg and Charlotte Brewer |
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| 7. | Passus Septimus |
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 | William Langland: Piers Plowman: The Z Version |  |
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Passus Septimus
“Thys were a wel wyked wey, but wo haued a gyde
That myght folew vs vch foet forto we were there.”
Quad Perkyn the plowman, “Be seynt Poule of Rome,
Y haue an halue aker to ere by the heye way.
Haued Y hered that haluacur ant ysowed hit aftur,
Ant schal wende wyth yow tyl the heye weye.”
“This were a long lettyng,” quad a lady in a sclayre;
“Wat scholde we wymmen wirche the wyle?”
“Somme schal sowen the sak for schedyng of the wete,
Ant wyues that han wollen, wirchen hit faste
Ant spynneth hit spedlych, sparet nat youre fingres
But y[t] be eny halyday or eny holy eue.
Loketh forth youre lynnen ant laboreth thereon faste.
The nedy ant the naked, nymeth hede how he ligeth:
Casteth hem clothes for cold, for so comawndeth Trewthe.
For Y schal lene hem liflode, but yf the lond fayle,
As longe as Y liue, for oure lordus loue of heuene.
Ant ye louelyche ladius wyth youre longe fingres,
That ye haue selk ant sendel to sewen wan tyme ys,
Chesibles for chapeleynes chirches to honoure.
Ant al manere men that by the mete libbeth,
Helpeth hym wirche wytliche that wynneth youre fode.”
That myght folew vs vch foet forto we were there.”
Quad Perkyn the plowman, “Be seynt Poule of Rome,
Y haue an halue aker to ere by the heye way.
Haued Y hered that haluacur ant ysowed hit aftur,
Ant schal wende wyth yow tyl the heye weye.”
“This were a long lettyng,” quad a lady in a sclayre;
“Wat scholde we wymmen wirche the wyle?”
“Somme schal sowen the sak for schedyng of the wete,
Ant wyues that han wollen, wirchen hit faste
Ant spynneth hit spedlych, sparet nat youre fingres
But y[t] be eny halyday or eny holy eue.
Loketh forth youre lynnen ant laboreth thereon faste.
The nedy ant the naked, nymeth hede how he ligeth:
Casteth hem clothes for cold, for so comawndeth Trewthe.
For Y schal lene hem liflode, but yf the lond fayle,
As longe as Y liue, for oure lordus loue of heuene.
Ant ye louelyche ladius wyth youre longe fingres,
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Chesibles for chapeleynes chirches to honoure.
Ant al manere men that by the mete libbeth,
Helpeth hym wirche wytliche that wynneth youre fode.”
“By Crist,” quad a knyght tho, “thow kennest vs the best,
Ac on the teme trewly taught was Y nere.
Ac kenne me,” quad the knyght, “ant be Cryst Y wyl lere.”
“By seynt Petur,” quad Perkyn, “an for thow profrest the so lowe,
Y schal swynken ant swete ant sowe for vs bothe,
Ant eke laboure for youre loue al my lif tyme,
In couenaunt that ye kepe holy kyrke ant mysylf
Fro wastors ant wyked men that wolden me destruye;
Meyntene me yf þow myght fro al manere schrewes
Ant go hunte hardely the hares ant the foxus,
The bukkes ant bores that breken myn egges,
Ant feteth hom faukones fowles to kulle.
For these cometh [to my] croft ant croppeth my wete.”
Cortesliche the knyghte thenne comseth thes wordes:
“By my pouer, Peres, Y plyȝte the my trewthe
To fulfelle this forward for euere more hereaftur.”
“Ye, ant yut a poynt,” quad Perkyn, “Y prey the, more:
Loke thow tene no tenaunt but yf Trewthe wyl assente,
Ant thouȝ pore men profre yow presauntus ant yftus,
Nyme nat, an awntre thow mow hit nat desserue.
Thenne schalt thow yelden hit ayeyen at one yeres ende,
In a ful perilouse place, that Purgatorie hette.
Amys bed nat thy bondmen, the bet schat thow spede.
Loke thow be trewe of thy tunge ant tales that thow hate,
But yf yt be of wysdom or wyt, thy werkmen to chaste.
Yf none harlotes thyn hode ne thyn holde clothys,
But hit be mynstrales or messageres that gode murthes cunne.”
“I assente, by seynt Jame,” quad the knyght thenne,
“For to wyrche by thy word wyle my lyf duyreth.”
Perkyn aparayled hym in pylgrimes wyse;
A caste on his clothes yclouted for the colde,
Ys cokeres ant ys coffus for clumse of ys fyngres,
“Ant myn hatte on myn heued, Y haue no bettre scrippe:
A boschel of bred-corn bryng me thereinne,
For Y wil sowe hit mysilf ant senes wil Y wend,
Ant ho so helpeth me to holde or eggen hit myt the harwe
Or wit awey the fowles wyle the sed grouth
Schal haue leue by oure lord to lese here in heruest
And beren hit forth to his bern as baldely as mysilf.”
Dame Wyrche-wen-tyme-ys Pers wyf highte,
Ant ys dowghtur hyght Do-ryt-so-or-thy-dame-schal-the-bete;
Ys sone hyght “Sewe-myn-ourf-fors,-slewth-nat-the-leste,
Kepe vch mannes corn as thow kepest myn oune,
Bothe here gras ant here god, or by God thow schalt abegge!
Lat nat thyne handus be yhoked harneys to pyke,
Ne ly nat to do me lawghe, for Y louede hit nere.
For now Y am hold ant hor and haue of myn owne,
To penaunce as a pylgrime Y wyl passe wyth this other.
Therefor Y wyl, or Y wend, do wryte my byqueste:
In dei nomine, amen: Y make hit mysylf.
He schal haue my sowle tha[t] beste hath deserued,
Ant defenden hit fro the fend, for so Y byleue,
Tyl he come ant acounte, as my crede telleth,
At domus day to do me dwelle wyth my sowle in his blisse,
For that Y labored in ys lawe al my lyf tyme.
The kyrke schal haue my caroyne ant kepe my bones.
For of my catel ant my corn a craued my tyth.
Y payed hit hym prestly for perel of my sowle,
Ant he his holdyng, Y hope, to haue me in his masse
Ant menege in his memorie among gode sowles.
My wyf schal haue that Y wan wyth trewthe ant no more,
Ant dele among my dowtres ant my dere chyldren.
For thow Y deye today, my dette ys yquited:
I bar hom that Y borwed ar Y to bedde yede.
Ant wyth the residewe ant the remanaunt that ryghtfullyche Y wonne
Y wil wirschepe therewyth Trewthe as long as Y leue,
Ant be ys pilegrym at the plow for pore mens sake.
My plowpote schal be my pik to pich ato the rotus
That acumbren my colter as cammokes ant wedus.”
Ac on the teme trewly taught was Y nere.
Ac kenne me,” quad the knyght, “ant be Cryst Y wyl lere.”
“By seynt Petur,” quad Perkyn, “an for thow profrest the so lowe,
Y schal swynken ant swete ant sowe for vs bothe,
Ant eke laboure for youre loue al my lif tyme,
In couenaunt that ye kepe holy kyrke ant mysylf
Fro wastors ant wyked men that wolden me destruye;
Meyntene me yf þow myght fro al manere schrewes
Ant go hunte hardely the hares ant the foxus,
The bukkes ant bores that breken myn egges,
Ant feteth hom faukones fowles to kulle.
For these cometh [to my] croft ant croppeth my wete.”
Cortesliche the knyghte thenne comseth thes wordes:
“By my pouer, Peres, Y plyȝte the my trewthe
To fulfelle this forward for euere more hereaftur.”
“Ye, ant yut a poynt,” quad Perkyn, “Y prey the, more:
Loke thow tene no tenaunt but yf Trewthe wyl assente,
Ant thouȝ pore men profre yow presauntus ant yftus,
Nyme nat, an awntre thow mow hit nat desserue.
Thenne schalt thow yelden hit ayeyen at one yeres ende,
93
Amys bed nat thy bondmen, the bet schat thow spede.
Loke thow be trewe of thy tunge ant tales that thow hate,
But yf yt be of wysdom or wyt, thy werkmen to chaste.
Yf none harlotes thyn hode ne thyn holde clothys,
But hit be mynstrales or messageres that gode murthes cunne.”
“I assente, by seynt Jame,” quad the knyght thenne,
“For to wyrche by thy word wyle my lyf duyreth.”
Perkyn aparayled hym in pylgrimes wyse;
A caste on his clothes yclouted for the colde,
Ys cokeres ant ys coffus for clumse of ys fyngres,
“Ant myn hatte on myn heued, Y haue no bettre scrippe:
A boschel of bred-corn bryng me thereinne,
For Y wil sowe hit mysilf ant senes wil Y wend,
Ant ho so helpeth me to holde or eggen hit myt the harwe
Or wit awey the fowles wyle the sed grouth
Schal haue leue by oure lord to lese here in heruest
And beren hit forth to his bern as baldely as mysilf.”
94
Ant ys dowghtur hyght Do-ryt-so-or-thy-dame-schal-the-bete;
Ys sone hyght “Sewe-myn-ourf-fors,-slewth-nat-the-leste,
Kepe vch mannes corn as thow kepest myn oune,
Bothe here gras ant here god, or by God thow schalt abegge!
Lat nat thyne handus be yhoked harneys to pyke,
Ne ly nat to do me lawghe, for Y louede hit nere.
For now Y am hold ant hor and haue of myn owne,
To penaunce as a pylgrime Y wyl passe wyth this other.
Therefor Y wyl, or Y wend, do wryte my byqueste:
In dei nomine, amen: Y make hit mysylf.
He schal haue my sowle tha[t] beste hath deserued,
Ant defenden hit fro the fend, for so Y byleue,
Tyl he come ant acounte, as my crede telleth,
At domus day to do me dwelle wyth my sowle in his blisse,
For that Y labored in ys lawe al my lyf tyme.
The kyrke schal haue my caroyne ant kepe my bones.
For of my catel ant my corn a craued my tyth.
95
Ant he his holdyng, Y hope, to haue me in his masse
Ant menege in his memorie among gode sowles.
My wyf schal haue that Y wan wyth trewthe ant no more,
Ant dele among my dowtres ant my dere chyldren.
For thow Y deye today, my dette ys yquited:
I bar hom that Y borwed ar Y to bedde yede.
Ant wyth the residewe ant the remanaunt that ryghtfullyche Y wonne
Y wil wirschepe therewyth Trewthe as long as Y leue,
Ant be ys pilegrym at the plow for pore mens sake.
My plowpote schal be my pik to pich ato the rotus
That acumbren my colter as cammokes ant wedus.”
Now ys Perkyn ant the pylegrimes to the plow faren,
To heryen this haluacur holpen hym monye;
Dicares ant deluares diged vp the balcus.
Therewyth was Perkyn apayd ant preysed hem faste.
Othur workmen there were that wrought ful yerne,
Vche man in his manere made hymsilf to done,
For to plese Perkyn peynd ful monye.
At heye pryme Peres let the plowe stande
Ant ouresey hem hymsilf: ho so best wrought
Scholde ben huyred thereaftur wen heruest tyme come.
Thenne setten summe ant songen at the nale,
Ant holpen erye the haluacur wyth “hey trolylolly.”
“By the prynse of paradis,” quad Peres in his wrath,
“But ye aryse the rather ant rapen yow to wirch,
Schal no grayn that here grouth gladyen yow at nede,
Ne Y nel lene yow no lyflode, noythur loef ne cake,
Ne no skines corn, by Cryst, that in my croft groueth.
Ant thow ye deye for deul, the deuel haue that reche!”
Thenne were faytores aferd, fayned hem blynde;
Summe leyde here leggus alyry as such loseles conneth,
Ant pleyneden to Peres wyth suche pitouse wordes:
“We han no limus to labore wyth, lord ygraced be the,
Ac we preyen for yow, Peres, ant for youre plow alse,
That God for ys grace youre grayn multeplye,
Ant yelde yow oure almesse that ye yeuen vs here;
For we mowe neythur swinke ne swete, such sikenesse vs eyleth.”
“Ȝyf hit be soth that ye seyen, Y schal sone aspye.
Ye ben wastores, Y wot wyl, Trewthe wot the sothe,
Ant Y am his holde hyne ant houghte hym to warne
Wiche wastores in world ys werkmen distruyeth.
Ye eten that they scholde ete that eryeth for vs alle.
Ac Trewthe schal thechen yow ys teme for to dryue,
Bothe to sette ant to sowe ant to sauen ys tylthe,
Cach koes fro ys corn, kepen ys bestus,
Or ye schal eten barly bred ant of the brok drynke,
But yf he blynd or broke-schanked or bedreden ligge—
They schal ete as gode as Y, so me God helpe,
Tyl God of ys grace gere hem to ryse.
Hancres ant hermytus that holdeth hem in here selles
Schal haue of myn almesse al the wyle Y libbe,
Ynow vch day at noen ant no more aftur,
Laste his flesch ant the feend fouled ys sowle.
Ones at noen ys ynow that no werk ne haunteth:
A byt wel the bettre that bummeth nat ofte.”
To heryen this haluacur holpen hym monye;
Dicares ant deluares diged vp the balcus.
Therewyth was Perkyn apayd ant preysed hem faste.
Othur workmen there were that wrought ful yerne,
Vche man in his manere made hymsilf to done,
For to plese Perkyn peynd ful monye.
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Ant ouresey hem hymsilf: ho so best wrought
Scholde ben huyred thereaftur wen heruest tyme come.
Thenne setten summe ant songen at the nale,
Ant holpen erye the haluacur wyth “hey trolylolly.”
“By the prynse of paradis,” quad Peres in his wrath,
“But ye aryse the rather ant rapen yow to wirch,
Schal no grayn that here grouth gladyen yow at nede,
Ne Y nel lene yow no lyflode, noythur loef ne cake,
Ne no skines corn, by Cryst, that in my croft groueth.
Ant thow ye deye for deul, the deuel haue that reche!”
Thenne were faytores aferd, fayned hem blynde;
Summe leyde here leggus alyry as such loseles conneth,
Ant pleyneden to Peres wyth suche pitouse wordes:
“We han no limus to labore wyth, lord ygraced be the,
Ac we preyen for yow, Peres, ant for youre plow alse,
That God for ys grace youre grayn multeplye,
Ant yelde yow oure almesse that ye yeuen vs here;
For we mowe neythur swinke ne swete, such sikenesse vs eyleth.”
“Ȝyf hit be soth that ye seyen, Y schal sone aspye.
Ye ben wastores, Y wot wyl, Trewthe wot the sothe,
Ant Y am his holde hyne ant houghte hym to warne
Wiche wastores in world ys werkmen distruyeth.
Ye eten that they scholde ete that eryeth for vs alle.
Ac Trewthe schal thechen yow ys teme for to dryue,
Bothe to sette ant to sowe ant to sauen ys tylthe,
Cach koes fro ys corn, kepen ys bestus,
Or ye schal eten barly bred ant of the brok drynke,
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They schal ete as gode as Y, so me God helpe,
Tyl God of ys grace gere hem to ryse.
Hancres ant hermytus that holdeth hem in here selles
Schal haue of myn almesse al the wyle Y libbe,
Ynow vch day at noen ant no more aftur,
Laste his flesch ant the feend fouled ys sowle.
Ones at noen ys ynow that no werk ne haunteth:
A byt wel the bettre that bummeth nat ofte.”
Thenne gan Wastor to wrathen hym ant wolde haue yfoughte,
Ant to Perus the plowman profred ys gloue.
A Bretoner, a bragger, a bosted hym alse,
Ant bad hym go pysse myd ys plowe: “Pyuysche schrewe,
Wolle þow, nelle þow, we wille han oure wille,
Ant bothe thy flour ant thy flesch fech wen vs licuth,
Ant maken vs merye theremyt mawgre thy checus.”
Thenne Peres the plowman pleyned hym to the knyghte
To kepen hym, as couenaunt was, fro cursed schrewes,
Fro wastores that wayten wynnares to schende.
Corteslyche the knyghte thenne, as ys kynde wolde,
Warned Wastor ant wyssed hym bettre,
“Or thow schalt abigge by the lawe, by the ordre tha[t] Y welde.”
“I was nat woned to wirche, now wil Y nat bygynne.”
Ant let lighte of the lawe ant lasse of the knyght,
Ant counted Peres at a pese ant ys plow bothe
Ant manesed hym ant ys men to mysdon hym eftsones.
Ant to Perus the plowman profred ys gloue.
A Bretoner, a bragger, a bosted hym alse,
Ant bad hym go pysse myd ys plowe: “Pyuysche schrewe,
Wolle þow, nelle þow, we wille han oure wille,
Ant bothe thy flour ant thy flesch fech wen vs licuth,
Ant maken vs merye theremyt mawgre thy checus.”
Thenne Peres the plowman pleyned hym to the knyghte
To kepen hym, as couenaunt was, fro cursed schrewes,
Fro wastores that wayten wynnares to schende.
Corteslyche the knyghte thenne, as ys kynde wolde,
Warned Wastor ant wyssed hym bettre,
“Or thow schalt abigge by the lawe, by the ordre tha[t] Y welde.”
“I was nat woned to wirche, now wil Y nat bygynne.”
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Ant counted Peres at a pese ant ys plow bothe
Ant manesed hym ant ys men to mysdon hym eftsones.
“Now by the perel of my sowle, Y schal apeyre yow alle!”
Ant houped aftur Hungur that herd hym at the furste.
“Awrek me of thys wastores,” quad Perus, “that this world schenden.”
Hungur in haste thenne hente Wastor by the mawe
Ant wrong hym so by the wombe that al watred his eyeus,
Ant buffated the Bretoner aboute the checus
That a loked lik a lanterne al ys lyf aftur.
He bete hem so bothe that he barst nere here guttus,
Ne hadde Perus wyth a pese lof preyed hym byleue.
And wyth a beneen botte a yede hem bytwene,
Ant hitte Hungur theremyde that alle ys gottes swolle
Ant bledde into the bodyward a bolle ful of growel.
Ne hadde sire Furst the fycyan yfet watur the sannure
To abate the barly bred ant benes that they eten,
They haued be ded be thys day ant doluen al warme.
Faytores for fere tho flowen into bernus
Ant flapten on wyth fleyles fro morwen tyl euen
Betynge barly benus ant wete,
That Hungur was nat hardy on hem for to loke.
For a potteful of pesus that Perus had ymaked
An hep of hermytus henten hem spadus,
Ant doluen dryt ant dunge to dutten out Hungur.
Blynde ant bedreden were botned a thowsond,
That hadde be blynde ant broke-legged be the heye weye.
Hungur hem heled myt an ote cake,
Ant lame men lymes were lythed that tyme
Ant becomen knaues to kepe menne bestus,
Ant preyd por charite wyth Peres for to dwelle,
Al for couetyse of ys corn to cach awey Hungur.
Ant Perus was prowd thereof ant pulte hem in offisus,
Ant yaf hem mete ant mone as they myghte disserue.
Thenne haued Perus pite: a preyd Hungur to wende
Hom into ys oune erd ant halde there euere.
“Ac yut Y prey the,” quad Perus, “ar thow passe forthur,
Of beggares ant byddares wat best be to done?
For Y wot wel, be þow went, they wyl wyrche ful ylle:
Meschyf hit makuth they ben so meke nowthe
Ant for defaute of fode thus faste they wirchen.
Ant hit ben my blody brethurne, for God bought us alle:
Trewthe taughte me onus to louey hem vch one,
To helpe hem of alle thing as they han nede.
Now wold Y wytte, yf thow wistus, wat were the beste,
How Y myghte amaystren hem ant maken hem to wyrche,
Tho that ben staleword ant stronge ant struyores beth holden.
For bedreden ant blynde ant broke-legged wreches
That ben syke ant sory, Y schal yse mysilf
That they haue bred ant brede beddyng ant clotus,
Ant kepe hem fro colde, so me Cryst helpe,
Ant eke fro hungur ant harme as myn owne chyldren.”
“Herke now,” quad Hungur, “ant holde hit for a wysdom.
Bolde beggares ant bygge that mow here bred byswynke,
Wyth howndus bred ant horse bred holde vp here hertus;
Abaue hem wyth benus for bollyng of here wombe,
Ant yf tho gromus gruch, bide hem go ant swynke,
Ant he schal soupe swetture wen he yt hath disserued.
But yf yt be eny freke fortune haue apeyred
Wyth fuyr or wyth fals men, fonde such to knowe.
Conforte hym wyth thy catel for Crystys loue of heuene;
Loue hem ant lene hem ant so lawe of kynde wolde.”
“I wolde nat greue God,” quad Perus, “for al the god that Y welde.
Myght Y synneles do as thow seyst?” seyde Perus thenne.
“Ye, Y byhote God,” quad Hungur, “or elles the bible lyes.
Go to Genesis the geaunt, engendrour of vs alle:
In sudore ant swynk þow schalt thy mete telye
Ant laborey for thy lyflode, ant so oure lord hyghte.
Ant Sapience seth the same, Y sey hit in the byble:
Piger propter frigus no fode nolde tylye;
A schal go begged ant byd ant no man bete ys hungur.
Mathew wyth the mannes face mowtheth these wordus,
That seruus nequam haued a pnam, ant for a nolde hit vse
He haued maugre of ys mayster for eueremore aftur,
Ant bynom hym ys pnam for a nolde wirche,
Ant yaf yt hym in haste that hadde ten there byfore,
Ant senes he seyde that ys seruauns hit herde,
‘He that hath, schal haue, to helpe there hym licuth;
Ant he that nawght hath, schal nawght haue ne no man hym helpe;
Ant he that weneth wel to haue, Y wyl hit hym byreue.’
Of thys matere Y myght make a longe tale,
Ac h[i]t fallet nat for me, for Y am no dekne
To preche the peple wat that poynt menes.
Kynde Wyt wolde that euery wyght wroughte
Or to teche or to telle or trauayle wyth handus,
Contemplatyf lyf or attyf lyf, Cryst wolde hit alse.
The sawter seyt in salme in beati omnes:
Labores manuum tuarum quia manducabis.
Tow best yblessed of God ant the bet schat thow spede.”
“Yut Y preye the,” quad Perus, “por charite, ant thow cunne
Eny lef of leche craft, lere hit me, Y bydde.
For Y haue summe seruauns ben sike otherwyle:
Of al the woke they wyrche nat, so here wombe acuth.”
“I wot wel,” quad Hungur, “wat sykenesse hem ayleth:
They han manged ouer muche, that maketh hem to grone,
Ant eke ydronke to depe, that doth hem harme ofte.
Ac Y hote the,” quad Hungur, “as thow thyn hele wilnest,
That how drynke no day ar thow dyne sumwat.
Ette nat, Y hote, ar hungur the bydde
Ant sende of ys sauce to sauere wyth thy lyppus,
Ant kep sum forto sopertyme ant site nat to longe.
Arys vp ar thyn appetyd haue ete ys fulle;
Lat nat sire Sorfet sitte at thy borde:
Lef nat that liare for he ys licores of tunge,
Ant aftur many manere metus ys mawe ys afyngred.
Ant yf thow diete the thus, Y dar legge myn eyes
That fisik schal ys furred hodus for ys fode sille,
Ant eke ys cloke of Calabre wyth the cnappus of golde,
Ant be fayn by my fayth ys fysyk to lete,
Ant lerne to labory wyth land for liflode ys swete.
I defame nat fysyk, for the science ys trewe,
Ac vncunynge kaytyues that kannen nat rede a lettere
Macuth hem maystres men for to hele.
Ac hit ar maystres morthrares men for to quelle,
Ant none leches but lyares, lord hem amende!
In Ecclesiasticis the clerc that can rede
May se hit there hymsilf ant senes teche other:
Honora medicum, he seyt, for necessitatem.
For helthe from heuene, Y hope, doth out springe,
Ant therefor the byble bit ant in ys bok techet
That leches of lordus scholde here lower haue:
A regibus et principibus erit merces eorum—
Of princes ant prelatus here pencyoun schal aryse,
Ant of no pore peple no peneworth gode take.
Ac lewed Lumbardes Londona han aspyed,
That Gloten ys a god there ant greueth men ful ofte,
Ant macuht hem maystres ant medecynes schapeth,
Ant casteth men of the cardyacle into the kyrke yerdus,
Flemmynges ant Frenche men ant fele of this Englysch.”
Ant houped aftur Hungur that herd hym at the furste.
“Awrek me of thys wastores,” quad Perus, “that this world schenden.”
Hungur in haste thenne hente Wastor by the mawe
Ant wrong hym so by the wombe that al watred his eyeus,
Ant buffated the Bretoner aboute the checus
That a loked lik a lanterne al ys lyf aftur.
He bete hem so bothe that he barst nere here guttus,
Ne hadde Perus wyth a pese lof preyed hym byleue.
And wyth a beneen botte a yede hem bytwene,
Ant hitte Hungur theremyde that alle ys gottes swolle
Ant bledde into the bodyward a bolle ful of growel.
Ne hadde sire Furst the fycyan yfet watur the sannure
To abate the barly bred ant benes that they eten,
They haued be ded be thys day ant doluen al warme.
Faytores for fere tho flowen into bernus
Ant flapten on wyth fleyles fro morwen tyl euen
Betynge barly benus ant wete,
That Hungur was nat hardy on hem for to loke.
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An hep of hermytus henten hem spadus,
Ant doluen dryt ant dunge to dutten out Hungur.
Blynde ant bedreden were botned a thowsond,
That hadde be blynde ant broke-legged be the heye weye.
Hungur hem heled myt an ote cake,
Ant lame men lymes were lythed that tyme
Ant becomen knaues to kepe menne bestus,
Ant preyd por charite wyth Peres for to dwelle,
Al for couetyse of ys corn to cach awey Hungur.
Ant Perus was prowd thereof ant pulte hem in offisus,
Ant yaf hem mete ant mone as they myghte disserue.
Thenne haued Perus pite: a preyd Hungur to wende
Hom into ys oune erd ant halde there euere.
“Ac yut Y prey the,” quad Perus, “ar thow passe forthur,
Of beggares ant byddares wat best be to done?
For Y wot wel, be þow went, they wyl wyrche ful ylle:
Meschyf hit makuth they ben so meke nowthe
Ant for defaute of fode thus faste they wirchen.
Ant hit ben my blody brethurne, for God bought us alle:
Trewthe taughte me onus to louey hem vch one,
To helpe hem of alle thing as they han nede.
Now wold Y wytte, yf thow wistus, wat were the beste,
How Y myghte amaystren hem ant maken hem to wyrche,
Tho that ben staleword ant stronge ant struyores beth holden.
For bedreden ant blynde ant broke-legged wreches
That ben syke ant sory, Y schal yse mysilf
100
Ant kepe hem fro colde, so me Cryst helpe,
Ant eke fro hungur ant harme as myn owne chyldren.”
“Herke now,” quad Hungur, “ant holde hit for a wysdom.
Bolde beggares ant bygge that mow here bred byswynke,
Wyth howndus bred ant horse bred holde vp here hertus;
Abaue hem wyth benus for bollyng of here wombe,
Ant yf tho gromus gruch, bide hem go ant swynke,
Ant he schal soupe swetture wen he yt hath disserued.
But yf yt be eny freke fortune haue apeyred
Wyth fuyr or wyth fals men, fonde such to knowe.
Conforte hym wyth thy catel for Crystys loue of heuene;
Loue hem ant lene hem ant so lawe of kynde wolde.”
“I wolde nat greue God,” quad Perus, “for al the god that Y welde.
Myght Y synneles do as thow seyst?” seyde Perus thenne.
“Ye, Y byhote God,” quad Hungur, “or elles the bible lyes.
Go to Genesis the geaunt, engendrour of vs alle:
In sudore ant swynk þow schalt thy mete telye
Ant laborey for thy lyflode, ant so oure lord hyghte.
Ant Sapience seth the same, Y sey hit in the byble:
Piger propter frigus no fode nolde tylye;
A schal go begged ant byd ant no man bete ys hungur.
Mathew wyth the mannes face mowtheth these wordus,
That seruus nequam haued a pnam, ant for a nolde hit vse
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Ant bynom hym ys pnam for a nolde wirche,
Ant yaf yt hym in haste that hadde ten there byfore,
Ant senes he seyde that ys seruauns hit herde,
‘He that hath, schal haue, to helpe there hym licuth;
Ant he that nawght hath, schal nawght haue ne no man hym helpe;
Ant he that weneth wel to haue, Y wyl hit hym byreue.’
Of thys matere Y myght make a longe tale,
Ac h[i]t fallet nat for me, for Y am no dekne
To preche the peple wat that poynt menes.
Kynde Wyt wolde that euery wyght wroughte
Or to teche or to telle or trauayle wyth handus,
Contemplatyf lyf or attyf lyf, Cryst wolde hit alse.
The sawter seyt in salme in beati omnes:
Labores manuum tuarum quia manducabis.
Tow best yblessed of God ant the bet schat thow spede.”
“Yut Y preye the,” quad Perus, “por charite, ant thow cunne
Eny lef of leche craft, lere hit me, Y bydde.
For Y haue summe seruauns ben sike otherwyle:
Of al the woke they wyrche nat, so here wombe acuth.”
“I wot wel,” quad Hungur, “wat sykenesse hem ayleth:
They han manged ouer muche, that maketh hem to grone,
Ant eke ydronke to depe, that doth hem harme ofte.
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That how drynke no day ar thow dyne sumwat.
Ette nat, Y hote, ar hungur the bydde
Ant sende of ys sauce to sauere wyth thy lyppus,
Ant kep sum forto sopertyme ant site nat to longe.
Arys vp ar thyn appetyd haue ete ys fulle;
Lat nat sire Sorfet sitte at thy borde:
Lef nat that liare for he ys licores of tunge,
Ant aftur many manere metus ys mawe ys afyngred.
Ant yf thow diete the thus, Y dar legge myn eyes
That fisik schal ys furred hodus for ys fode sille,
Ant eke ys cloke of Calabre wyth the cnappus of golde,
Ant be fayn by my fayth ys fysyk to lete,
Ant lerne to labory wyth land for liflode ys swete.
I defame nat fysyk, for the science ys trewe,
Ac vncunynge kaytyues that kannen nat rede a lettere
Macuth hem maystres men for to hele.
Ac hit ar maystres morthrares men for to quelle,
Ant none leches but lyares, lord hem amende!
In Ecclesiasticis the clerc that can rede
May se hit there hymsilf ant senes teche other:
Honora medicum, he seyt, for necessitatem.
For helthe from heuene, Y hope, doth out springe,
Ant therefor the byble bit ant in ys bok techet
103
A regibus et principibus erit merces eorum—
Of princes ant prelatus here pencyoun schal aryse,
Ant of no pore peple no peneworth gode take.
Ac lewed Lumbardes Londona han aspyed,
That Gloten ys a god there ant greueth men ful ofte,
Ant macuht hem maystres ant medecynes schapeth,
Ant casteth men of the cardyacle into the kyrke yerdus,
Flemmynges ant Frenche men ant fele of this Englysch.”
“Be seynt Purnele,” quad Perus, “me payeth wel youre wordus.
Thys ys a louely lesson, lord hit the foryelde!
Wende now wen thy wille ys, that wyl the bytyde.”
“I behote the,” quad Hungur, “that hennes nell Y wende
Tyl Y haue dyned by thys day ant ydrunke bothe.”
Thenne haued Perus no peny pulletus to bigge,
Noythur ges ne grys but to grene chesus,
A wel, a potteful of wey ant welled croddes,
“A lof of benus ant brant to breke among myn hens,”
Ant sethe a swor by ys sowle he ne had no salt bakoun
Ne no kokenay, by Cryst, coloppus to make.
“I haue persile ant poret ant many plant koules,
Ant eke a kow ant a calf, ant a cart-mare
To draw a feld dunge, wyle the druye lastus.
Ant by thys lyflode Y mot liue til lowmasse tyme,
Ant by that Y hope to haue heruest in my crofte:
Thenne may Y dyghte thy dyner as me dere licuth.”
Alle the pore peple thenne pese coddus fette,
Benus ant bake apples they broughten in here lappe,
Chibolles ant chireuilles ant chiries ful ripe,
Ant profredon thys present to plese myd Hungur.
Hungur ett this in haste ant axed aftur more.
Thenne the folk for fere fetten hym monye
Grene poret ant pesus to peyse hym for euere.
By that yt neyghled nere heruest that newe corn cam to chepinge,
Thenne was folk fayn ant fedde Hungur myt the beste,
Wyth gode ale ant glotonye gerten hym to slepe.
Ant tho nolde Wastor nat wirche but wandren aboute,
Ne no beggare heten bred that benes in come,
But yt were koket or clerematyn or of clene wete,
Ne none halpeny ale in eny wyse drynke,
But of the best ant the brownest that in borw ys to sillen.
Laborerys that han no land bot liue on here handus
Deyneden to day of nyght olde wortus;
May no peny ale hem plese ne no pese of bakoun,
But yt be fresch flesch or fysch fryed other bake,
Ant that chaut or pleus chaut, for chillyng of ys mawe.
Ant thow he be fed wyth fresch mete ant of the fynest drynke,
But he be heyliche yhuyred, elles wol he gruche,
That he was werkman ywrought waryen the tyme,
Ant thenne corsen the kyng ant al the consayl aftur
Such lawes to loke laboreres to chaste.
Ac wyle Hungur was here mayster, wolde non gruch
Ne stryue ayeyen ys statut, so sturnelyche a locud.
Ac war ye wel, werkmen, wynneth wile ye mow,
For Hungur hydurward hasteth hym faste.
He schal awake wyth water werkmen to gaste:
Ar fyf yer be fulfult such feym schal aryse;
Torw flod ant thorw foul wedur fruytes schulle fayle,
Ant so seyth Saturne ant sent yow to warne.
Thys ys a louely lesson, lord hit the foryelde!
Wende now wen thy wille ys, that wyl the bytyde.”
“I behote the,” quad Hungur, “that hennes nell Y wende
Tyl Y haue dyned by thys day ant ydrunke bothe.”
Thenne haued Perus no peny pulletus to bigge,
Noythur ges ne grys but to grene chesus,
A wel, a potteful of wey ant welled croddes,
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Ant sethe a swor by ys sowle he ne had no salt bakoun
Ne no kokenay, by Cryst, coloppus to make.
“I haue persile ant poret ant many plant koules,
Ant eke a kow ant a calf, ant a cart-mare
To draw a feld dunge, wyle the druye lastus.
Ant by thys lyflode Y mot liue til lowmasse tyme,
Ant by that Y hope to haue heruest in my crofte:
Thenne may Y dyghte thy dyner as me dere licuth.”
Alle the pore peple thenne pese coddus fette,
Benus ant bake apples they broughten in here lappe,
Chibolles ant chireuilles ant chiries ful ripe,
Ant profredon thys present to plese myd Hungur.
Hungur ett this in haste ant axed aftur more.
Thenne the folk for fere fetten hym monye
Grene poret ant pesus to peyse hym for euere.
By that yt neyghled nere heruest that newe corn cam to chepinge,
Thenne was folk fayn ant fedde Hungur myt the beste,
Wyth gode ale ant glotonye gerten hym to slepe.
Ant tho nolde Wastor nat wirche but wandren aboute,
Ne no beggare heten bred that benes in come,
But yt were koket or clerematyn or of clene wete,
Ne none halpeny ale in eny wyse drynke,
105
Laborerys that han no land bot liue on here handus
Deyneden to day of nyght olde wortus;
May no peny ale hem plese ne no pese of bakoun,
But yt be fresch flesch or fysch fryed other bake,
Ant that chaut or pleus chaut, for chillyng of ys mawe.
Ant thow he be fed wyth fresch mete ant of the fynest drynke,
But he be heyliche yhuyred, elles wol he gruche,
That he was werkman ywrought waryen the tyme,
Ant thenne corsen the kyng ant al the consayl aftur
Such lawes to loke laboreres to chaste.
Ac wyle Hungur was here mayster, wolde non gruch
Ne stryue ayeyen ys statut, so sturnelyche a locud.
Ac war ye wel, werkmen, wynneth wile ye mow,
For Hungur hydurward hasteth hym faste.
He schal awake wyth water werkmen to gaste:
Ar fyf yer be fulfult such feym schal aryse;
Torw flod ant thorw foul wedur fruytes schulle fayle,
Ant so seyth Saturne ant sent yow to warne.
| William Langland: Piers Plowman: The Z Version | |