University of Virginia Library


329

XXXVII. A dispitison bitwene a god man and þe deuel.

Swiþe muche neode hit is
Þat vche mon be war and wys
To kepe him from þe fendes lore—
ffor he fondeþ euer-more.
And þat we mowen alle I-witen
As hit is in þe Bok I-writen,
I wol ow telle, as I con,
How þe fend tempteþ a Mon.—
Hit was vppon an haly-day: In an heiȝ feste of þe ȝere;
Muche folk was to churche gon: Godes word for to here;
Þe Preost of þe chirche vndude þe gospel
And lerede his parischens, as he couþe wel,
And bad hem openly nyme good ȝeme
Hou þei scholden god wel queme
And schenden þe foule fend of helle,
Þat fondeþ euere iliche monnus soule to qwelle.
Whon þe prest hedde I-spoken & don what he wolde,
Þe folk wente hamward, as riȝt was þei scholde.
A good mon þer was, þat hamward gon rake,
And þouȝte ful ȝeorne of þat þe prest spake;
He eode be him one wiþ-oute fere ȝerne,
ffor no-mon of his þenkyng schulde hym werne.
Þe wikked fend of helle þerof hedde onde
And hastiliche sende to him his sonde.
His Messager redi was forte don his wille,
Him to bi-swyke, queynteliche & stille.
In þe wei he hym mette
And feire þenne he hym grette—

330

Was he no fend i-lyche,
But as a mon feir and riche;
Þe gode Mon was not war
Of þe deuel, þat com þar.
Quaþ þe wikked Counseyler:
“ffelawe, wel I-met her!
Sei me, as nou mote þou þe,
Wher hast þow now I-be?”
“I com from þe chirche, what woldestou þer-bi?
What þou art & whi þou askest, tel me nou, belamy!”
“I am a ferren mon and a wey-feryng,
Spek wiþ me feire, wiþ-outen grucchyng!
Hastou atte churche I-herd eny sarmoun,
Vndoynge of þe gospel or of lessoun?
I preyȝe þe, gode felawe, ȝif þi wille be,
Al þat þou herdest, tel hit nou to me!
ffor I con my-self, beo my lewete,
Of alle-maner lore gret plente.
I con wel I-knowe, I sei þe, for-þi,
Wher hit were wisdam þat he spac, or elles foli.
Wys þow schalt fynde me and hende;
ffor, ȝif he out fals haþ seid, I schal hit amende.
Þauh þow to me haue no trist,
I con more þen þe prest,
And better I wot, forsoþe I-wys,
How men schulen come to blis,
And also more I con telle
Wherfore Men schule go to helle.”
Þe goode mon bigon his tale: þat oþur ȝerne con luste;
Al couþe he not telle: But dude þat he wuste.
“Ouer alle þing he vs tauhte: To loue god, ful of miht,
And siþen vre euencristene: As we ouȝten wiþ riht.
He spac of dedli synnes: And seide þer weore seuene,
And whose dyede þer-Inne: Scholde neuere comen in heuene:
Pruide is þe furste: Envye is þat oþer,
Wraþþe is þe þridde: Þat mon haþ to his broþer,
Þe feorþe is Couetyse: Þe fyfþe is Lecherie,
Þe sixte is Sleuþe: Þe seueþe is Glotonye.
Mest he spac of pride, and lered more and lasse

331

fforto leue pride and loue Buxumnesse;
ffurst, abouen alle þing, wiþ al vre miht
Worschipen & louen god, boþe day & niht,
And louen vre kunrede, as þe lawe wile,
And alle cristene men, as hit is skile.
ffor alle we schulen wiþ riȝte louen vchon oþur
Wiþ al vre miȝte, as suster doþ þe broþur;
ffor breþeren we aren & sustren, as we schul al leue,
Alle þat euere icome ben of Adam & of Eue.”
Þe wikked gost was ful ȝare
And ȝaf þe gode mon onsware:
“Þow spekest,” he seide, “of louyng,
Þat mon schulde furst of alle þing;
Þat loue god schal eueri mon,
And siþen his neihȝebor, as he con.
Bote hou miȝtest þou trewe loue
Haue to him þat is aboue,
Whon he so ofte wraþþeþ þe
And let þe in muche myschef be?
He let þi catel from þe falle,
Hors in stable and Oxe in stalle,
And oþer þing awey let go,
And suffreþ þe be brouȝt in muche wo.
Ȝif þou art sek in syde and Ribbe,
Þat vnneþes maiȝt þou libbe,
Or þin hed sore akeþ
And al þi bodi for serwe quakeþ,
Þorw him þe comeþ al þis.
Loue him not, I rede, I-wis!
Hou miȝtest þou loue him wiþ skile
Þat miȝte þe helpe and ne wile?”
Þe goode mon wel vnderstod
Þat he seide was not good.
“After þi red wol I not do,
ffor þe prest ne bad not so.
I wot of alle þing, be hit what-so hit be,
Boþe beter & wors, my lord sendeþ to me.
Þauh I oþur-while haue I-had wo,
Þorw god þat hit sende hit haþ ouer-go;
Hit was for my gode—þonked be he—

332

He wolde þat I scholde bi þat I-war be.
Þauȝ he me be-reue anon to my Ribbe,
Þat I haue vnneþe wher-wiþ to libbe,
Ne wol I not be wroþ þerfore, ne no riȝt hit nis:
ffor al þat I haue, al hit is of his;
Al þat I haue, he leneþ me, I-wis,
He mai taken hit aȝeyn, whon his wille is.
So he haþ don ful ofte—I-blessed mot he be—
And ȝaf me wel more þen he birafte me.
And þauȝ he of-pyne me in seknesse sore,
Hit is for my gode, I loue him þe more;
Þer-wiþ he me warneþ his comaundement to breke,
And sent me such teone him for to wreke;
I mai þen amende me of þat I haue don ille,
And beeten þat I haue agult aȝein godes wille.
Þreo þinges þer beþ, as I haue herd telle,
Seide me þe prest in his lore-spelle,
ffor whom I ouȝte loue Ihesu ful of miȝte,
And worschipe him as I con, as me wel iȝte:
Þe furste þing of þe þre, is þat he me wrouȝte
After him-self, as hym best þouȝte;
Þat oþur, þat he bouȝte me on þe swete Rode
Wiþ his oune flesch & wiþ his oune blode;
Þe þridde, þat he cleped me to his oune feste
In to þe blisse of heuene, þat euer schal i-leste.
ffor on of þise I ouȝte to louen him wel apliȝt,
Betere I ouȝte for alle, & þat is good riȝt.”
Þe wikkede gost onswerde þo:
“Lete we þis tale go,
Leue we þis disputyng
And speke we of oþur þing.
Þow spekest aȝeyn pruide
And þer-of takest muche hyde.
Aȝeyn þe riȝte is þat þou says,
And þerfore me mis-pays.
Þou seist þe prest, þat syngeþ Messe,
Lered þe to Boxumnesse;
He was wod, so art þou ek,
And alle þo þat so spek.
Leef þou nouȝt þat hit be soþ!

333

Hit nis no-mon þat so doþ.
I sigge þat pruide nis no synne:
ffor þer-þorwȝ comeþ worldes wynne.
Þat maiȝt þou witen, I-wis,
Whon þou wost what hit is.
Ȝif þou be knowen for wys
And holden art of muche prys
And þat þou art riche mon and wlouȝ
And of richesse hast inouh:
Þauȝ þou lyȝe, as mony mon doþ,
Men wolleþ wene þat hit be soþ,
And clepe þe forþ for heore euenyng,
Bi-foren hem þat habbeþ no-þing.
Ȝif þou art proud and Modi
And berest þe bold and hardi,
Men þat stondeþ þe aboute
Þenne of þe wolen haue gret doute,
Wiþ þe wolen þei comen and speke,
Þi loue to haue and hem to wreke.
Þou mayȝt for þi bolde beryng
Be proud & riche in alle þing,
And ouur-al maiȝt þou comen and go,
Whon a Moppe dasart schal not so;
As a lord schalt þou be cald,
Þer oþure schul stonde be-hynde vn-bald,
And oueral þer þou gost aboute
Þe schal folewe ful gret route;
Of þe schal vche mon stonde gret eiȝe,
Wher þou wolt, þou miȝt go pleye.
Do nou as I haue I-counseyled þe:
Proud & stout euer þat þou be!
ffor ȝif þou drawe þe to cumpaigny
Of pore wrecches þat wone þe by,
Vche a Mon þat beo þe wey goþ
Of hem schalt þou be swiþe loþ,
And alle wolle þei ful ȝare
Lauhwhe þe to bisemare
And sigge: “lo, Men mowe wel se
What Mon þat he þenkeþ to be!
A wrecche sone wol he ben,

334

To wrecches he draweþ, as alle men sen;
Wel Men may seo alle bi þan
Þat neuer-more wol he beo man.”
Þe gode Mon vnderstod
Þat þat þe toþur seide was not good.
“Do wei,” he seide, “þi lore : Ne spek no more of pryde:
Hit doþ þe soule muche wo : And helpeþ þe bodi luyte.
Whon I þenke on þinges þre : Boþe niht and day
Pruide ne worldes blisse : Glade me ne may.
ffurst, whon I beo-þenke me : And am wel I-ware
How I com in to þis world : Boþe naked and bare;
Nedde I to myn hed houue ne hod,
Ne Robe to my bac, badde ne good,
But a foul red clout, þat I was boren In,
Þat tok I of my Moder, and was a foul skyn—
Al is soþ þat I seye, þeiȝ I speke in Rym—
Þei coruen hit of me & wosch awei mi slym.
In to þis world þus com I wrecched & bare,
And so, wot I wel, I schal heþen fare.
Þei wounden me in cloutes, for cold & for schame,
ffor I ne scholde forfare, þei hulede mi licame.
Al-Maner quik þing þat is þorw Godes miht,
Whon hit comeþ furst forþ, con him-self diht,
Haþ of him-self kyndeliche wede,
And con him-self purchase mete to his nede,
And haþ þorw kynde miȝt for to gon,
Þer kynde of mon haþ riȝt non,
Bute vn-miȝti wrecches alle are we.
Hou scholde I be proud, whon I þis se?
Þat oþur is, whon I þenke on Adam and Eue,
Hou þei weren in paradys wel & wiþ leue;
Þer wiþ-outen synne þei miȝte haue ben in blis,
Ȝif þei nedden agult aȝeyn god, i-wis;
Þer þei miȝten han I-wonet in murþe & in wynne:
But sone þei were driuen out, for þei dide sinne.
And þerfore ha we muche wo, serwe & vuel-fare,
And wonen in þis middel-ert in serwe & in care.
Weilawei & weilawo, þat synne was I-wrouȝt!
In muche peyne for sinne are mony men I-brouȝt;

335

Alle wo & seknes þat eny mon is Inne,
Al is, for he haþ i-greuet ofte god wiþ synne.
Þer is in þis world muche falshede,
Þer is no treuþe wel neiȝ, in word ne in dede,
Þe sone be-gileþ þe fader, þe douȝtur þe moder,
Þe sibbe þe frende, vche mon oþer.
Nis no worldes blisse þat nul ouur-go,
Ne nout no murie on eorþe þat nis meynt wiþ wo.
But þe blisse of paradys, þat lasteþ euer-more,
Whon I þenke þeron, me longeþ þider sore.
Hou scholde I þenne be proud for eny þing,
Or eny oþer mon, þat is in longyng?
Þe þridde þing is þat I þenke, þat I schal wende henne
Out of þis world, but wot I neuer whenne,
Ne wot I whodur mi soule schal. þerfore sore i drede:
ffor aftur mi werkes are, schal hit haue mede;
Riht as I haue deseruet, þe weole or þe wo
Certeinliche schal I haue, i mai not fle þer-fro.
Beo I in mi put leid, þer wormus schul eten me,
Worþe to nouȝt schal I þenne, as neuer hedde I be;
Þe her of myn hed, ȝeleuȝ so þe wex,
Schal dwynen a-wey so doþ þe drex,
Mi feire eȝen schulen out renne,
Mi white teþ schulen foule grenne,
Mi feire hondes and fingres longe
Schul rote & stynke swiþe stronge.
Men wol for mi good make striuyng
And puyte me out of al my þing.
Þulke þat weren I-wont ofte me to grete,
Þei wol not her þonkes wiþ me meete.
Alle þe frendes þat I now haue,
ffor me gladliche wol þei don al þat I craue;
Weore I in mi graue, out of heore siht,
Luite wolde þei for me do, be dai or be niȝt.
Nedde I neuere so muche good, al hit wolde go,
Whon mi soule & mi bodi ar parted a-two.
Mi bodi schal leuen her, mi soule faren henne,
Al þe worldes pride luitel helpeþ þenne.
Viterde hodes and Clokes also,
Al þat vile pride schal don hem ful wo;

336

Þei struye godes good þer-wiþ : And torne hit to fen,
Þat muche mihte helpe : Sely pore men.
Now is non worþ a fart,
But he bere a baselart
I-honget bi his syde,
And a swynes Mawe, & al is for pride.
Godus grame, stirap on his cappe is knit,
Þat an vnche haþ he not on for to sit;
Muche meschef and gret colde : On his hers he has,
Men miȝte, ȝif his brech weore to-tore : Seon his genitras.
And also þis wymmen : Þat muchel haunteþ pride,
Wiþ hornes on heore hed : Pinned on vch a syde,
Maad of an old hat : And of a luytel tre,
Wiþ selk scleyres I-set aboue : Apparisaunt to be;
Heore Reuersede gydes : On hem are streyt drawe—
But al be of þe newe aget : Hit is not worþ an hawe.
Þei wenen a ben ful feire : And wonder foul þei be;
And a wolden be-þenken hem : Of heore priuete
And hou foule þei are : In soule and in bodi,
Þei ouȝte wiþ heore wepyng : Make heore chekes rodi.
But þei leue pride, & oþur synnes mo,
Schortly to telle, to helle schul þei go.
Whon I þenke her-vppon : Mi care is wel þe more;
Luytel wonder is hit : Þauh I sike sore.
Hou scholde I be proud or elles modi?
Alle ouȝte we to be for synne sori.—
Ȝit þou counseildest me a luytel while ere
Þat I scholde not be pore mennes fere;
Þou seidest I scholde ben holden an vn-mon.
No-mon wol sigge so þat eny good con.
Þauȝ I & a pore Mon, þat beggeþ his fode,
Be not I-liche riche of þe worldes gode,
Men mai seo þe soþe & þe skile riȝt
Hou we schule bitwene vs vre loue diȝt:
Ȝif I do mi cloþus of anon to my liche
Þat I am icloþed in, þat beþ gode & riche,
And a pore beggere, þat haþ muche wo,
Wiþ cloutede cloþes dude also,
And we stode naked boþen I-fere:

337

Boþe miȝte we þenne ben oþures pere;
Hose vs seȝe and knewe vs neyþer,
Þenne miȝt þei wene þat we were breþer.
Þenne most I louen him, and he louen me,
Whon vre kynde robes beþ of o ble:
Þo are þe Robes we were wiþ I-bore—
Ar we liggen & rote, ne worþ þei to-tore;
Let us be lyk in sum þing, as wel I wot we are,
Al-þauȝ I be riche, & he pore & bare.”
Þe wikked gost onswerde þo
And bad let þat tale go,
“Lete we þis dispuytyng
And speke we of anoþer þing.
Þou spekest & seist þe prest haþ forbode
Wraþþe & onde, þorw biddyng of gode.
Hit was neuer forbode of no wys mon,
But of sum folte, þat no good ne con.
Ȝif þou sest þi broþur or þi kun or a-noþur
Þat he be feiror þen þou be, or wisor þen þou ouþur,
Or ricchor or baldor or be of beter i-told:
Þauȝ þin herte be wo
& of-þinke þat hit is so,
Who mihte þe blame?
Wel miȝt þou þenne þinke schame
And vuel may hit þe like
Þat he schal be so heiȝ : And þou not so riche.”
Þe gode mon wel vnderstod
Þat þat þe toþur seide was not good.
“Aftur þi counseil wol I not do,
ffor þe prest seide not so.
No mon haþ so muche good : Þat I wolde he hedde more,
Ne so feir ne so strong ne so wys of lore,
Hit of-þuncheþ me nouht : Ne þer-to haue I non onde,
ffor al þe godes þat mon haþ : Is of godes sonde.
God, þorw whom comeþ alle þing : Con ful good skile,
Alle worldes winne : He sendeþ, whon he wile.
Whi scholde I for monnes god haue sorinesse,
Whon I haue for him neuer þe lesse?
God deleþ his dole : To pore and to riche,

338

And ȝiueþ wit and auhte : But not alle I-lyche.
Whon he haþ I-ȝiuen his þing : As Ichaue I-seyd,
Vche mon of his del : Schulde holde him paid;
No mon schulde grucchen : Of oþeres wel-fare,
And ȝif he doþ, for soþe : He mispayeþ god þare.
ffor god wol ȝiue : To whom his wille is.
Whose haþ envye þer-to : ffor soþe, he nis not wys.”
Þe false schrewe onswerde þore
And bad hym sigge so nomore.
“Þou spekest of wraþþe in þi tale
And seist hit is aȝeyn soule-hale.
Þat is not soþ, but falshede;
Wraþþe was neuere synful dede.
Ȝif eny mon a-gult aȝeynes þe,
Smyteþ or elles puiteþ þe,
Oþer seiþ þat þe is him loþ:
Ne most þou þenne nedes be wroþ?
Ȝif Mon mis-seiþ þe or deþ þe schame:
Ȝif þou be wroþ, ho schal þe blame?
As he doþ bi þe, niȝt and day,
Quit him wel, ȝif þat þou may;
Ȝif þou mowe, worse; in eny wyse
Loke þou ȝelde him his seruyse;
Ȝif þou forberest O bisemare,
He wol ȝiue þe two ful ȝare.
Aȝeyn o word sei þou two
And mak him wroþ, ar þou go,
And spek wiþ hym baldeliche
And mis-seye hym schomefulliche!
Ȝif eny Mon þe mis-deþ,
Smyt þyn hond vnder his teþ,
Wiþ Swerd, Knyf, Staf or Ston
Lei on faste, and þat anon,
And bet him wel wiþ þe beste,
Þat his teþ al to-breste;
Or on þe hed ponne hard,
Þat he go wryȝinge þenneward.
Ȝif he is strong or of miht heiȝ,
Þat þou ne miht comen hym neiȝ,
Tac þe felawes þe by-syde:

339

Þe hardiloker maiȝt þou abyde,
And go sech him be wei and strete,
Stint þou nouȝt til þou him mete,
Lei on faste, spare no-þing,
To grounde sone þou him bryng,
Þat he þerfore grunte and grone;
And warne al oþere bi him one!
Þen may þi word springe ariht
Þat þou art hardi mon and wiht;
Alle men of þe þenne schule be fert
Þat bifore wolde mis-seye þe in þi bert;
Þenne miȝt þou go boþe quit and sker
Wher þou wolt, fer and neer.”
Þe goode mon wel vnderstood
Þat his counseil was not good.
“Ȝif I be wroþ and sore agreued : Wiþ eny Mon alyue,
Ich ouȝte seche pees of hym : fful hastiliche and blyue.
Mi Pater noster ne my crede : Ne myn Aue Marie biddynge,
Whyle ich am in wraþþe : Avayleþ me no-þhynge.
Ȝif Mon be wroþ, hym is þe wors : And þat on mony syde—
Þat schul ȝe wite þat hit is soþ : Ȝif ȝe wolleþ abyde:
Wraþþe and vuel wordes : Old sore neweþ,
And makeþ to do þe dede : Þat eft ful sore reweþ.
Wraþþe is a wikked þing : Hit mengeþ þe herte blod
And makeþ mon ofte out of wit : Þat he con no good,
He makeþ mon ofte do þe dede : Þat eft torneþ to grame,
Bete Men and ofte sle : And do ful muche schame,
Wounde men and berne men : Robben and to-reuen;
And euere are þei in serwe and wo : A-Morwen and at Euen.
Whon he is wel a-wreken : Aftur his wille,
Þen he is wel apayed : And goþ forþ wel stille,
He weneþ to here þer-of : No more tiþinge:
Bote þe synne þer-after : Schal him to schome brynge;
Ne schal he him no-wyse : So wel him schilde,
Þat he (!) ne schal for þe synne : Sum schome be-tyde,
But hit beo þorw schrift : And þe prestes rede

340

Þat þe synne be bet : And a-Mended þe deede.
Þe heiȝe kyng of heuene : Is riȝtful Iustise,
Alle folk schal he deme : Boþe foles and wyse;
He haþ set his lawes—: No-Mon scholde hem breke,
Þat no-mon in his wraþþe : Scholde him-self wreke.—
Ȝit on oþur wyse ofte mon is wroþ
And seiþ to his broþur þing þat him is loþ.
Þe wysore of hem two : Þen schal holde him stille
And suffre þe more fol : Siggen al his wille.
ffor he þat chydeþ al-one : Hit wol sone awey fare,
Hit wol not longe lasten : Wiþ-outen onsware;
Whon he haþ al seid : Þat he sigge wile,
He wol ben in pes : And cunne þe more skile,
And [bid] for-ȝiuen his wraþþe : Þauȝ þei duden ille,
And connen his felawe more þonk : ffor he heold him stille.
Ȝif eny wikked wordes or dedes : Bi-fore weren I-wrouht,
Þei schul þenne þorw wraþþe : Ben al out I-brouht;
Al þe worste þat þei cunne : Þenne wol þei speke,
And dele grete strokes : ffor to ben a-wreke.
Her-of is I-writen a word þat is couþ:
‘He kepeþ a feir castel þat kepeþ wel his Mouþ.’”
Þe wikked schrewe onswerde þon
Þus to þe gode mon:
“Ne forbed he neuere : Þat I þe plihte,
Mon to be riche : Ȝif he miht:
Hou miȝte men on e[n]y wyse
Be riche wiþ-outen couetyse?
Þe riche Mon, wher he is,
Holden is boþe ȝep and wys,
fforþ I-cald and muchel of told,
ffor he haþ good mony-fold;
He is holden of muche pris,
And al for good þat is his.
Þe pore Mon al þat schal misse;
Haþ he non such worldes blisse;
His Meeles are ofte lene—
Luitel hit helpeþ, þauȝ he him mene—
His Robes are badde and þinne,

341

Luitel he haþ of worldes wynne.
Purueye þe wel on vche a syde,
Þat such teone þe ne be-tyde!
Ȝif þou ne const, I wol þe teche
Hou þou schalt good to þe reche
And riche mon bi-come and wlouh
And haue of alle goodes I-nouh,
And wiþ-outen eny synne
Geten I-nouȝ of worldes wynne.
Beo peny pound bi-twene two
Þou maiȝt gedere mo and mo,
Al wiþ queyntise and wiþ ginne
Muche good maiȝt þou wynne.
Slep þou nouȝt to muche a-niht,
But win þe good, hou þou miht;
Ren a-boute bi þe strete,
Bi wey and bi weonlete;
Ȝif þou seost in eny wyse
Wher eny bi-ȝete wol aryse,
Tac sum, and lef I-nouh—
Þouȝ þou do so, hit nis no wouh;
Haue þou no doute, I rede, of þas,
No mon wot ho hit was.
Þauh Mon make muche fare,
Þer-of haue þou no care,
Ne dred no-þing þe prestes curs—
Þerfore þou schalt neuere be þe wors.
Ne spare non, þer þou gest,
Nouþer þe parsun ne þe prest;
Tac þe part of heore tyþinge
And bere hit hom to þi wonynge.
And so þou miȝt muche good take
And be riche monnes make.
Whon þou hast þus wel bi-gonne
And muche good hast I-wonne,
Þat þou hast, kep hit wel,
Þerof ȝif þou neuer a del;
But men bringe two for on,
Ȝiue hem not, but let hem gon!
Þer wol come to þin hous

342

Mony on ful coueytous,
ffor to haue of þi þinge,
To bere a-wei, and nouȝt to brynge:—
So wole þei don eft-sone;
Let hem gon riht as þei come;
Let hem seche heor owne biȝete
As þou dudest, or elles lete;
Let hem fare neer and ferre
And for þe neuer be þe nerre!”
Þe gode mon wel vnderstod
Þat at oþur seide was not good.
“Couetyse is not good : ffor hit is forbode,
So seiþ þe prest on his bok : Þorw biddyng of gode.
Men mowe wel be riche : Whose hit may wynne
Wiþ rihte & wiþ treuþe : And wiþ-outen synne;
Wiþ trewe craft and Marchaundise : Wel wynnen he may,
But Robbe ne to-reue : Nouþer niht ne day.
Mony on wiþ falsnesse : And wiþ Oker also
Haþ so muche good : Þat he not wher hit do;
Þat may ben here his heuene—: At his endynge
In to þe put of helle : Sone hit wole hym bringe.
Ȝif Mon haþ eny þing : Bi-gete wiþ trewenesse
Of worldliche good : More oþer lesse,
Tac to his nedfulnesse : Þer-of what he wile,
And do to holi chirche : Þat riht wole and skile:
Of al þat neweþ him be ȝere : Do his tiþinge,
And foure tyme in þe ȝere : Ȝif his Offringe;
Þe pore schal he helpe : Also, þat haþ nede,
Ȝif hem mete and drinke : And cloþe hem wiþ wede.
Hose wol not tiþe : Þat god him haþ I-lent,
His lyf and his soule : Boþe schul be schent;
He schal for þe synne : Haue Godes curs,
And eke alle his goodes : Schul fare wel þe wors;
His godes schulen at-falle : And faste a-wey go,
And for þat ilke synne : Mony on haueþ wo.
Þat is in toune and felde : Seene, sikerli,
Þat fewe aren in londe : Þat liuen rihtfuli:
Þe eorþe ȝeldeþ not fruit : As hit wont was,
Of Corn of þe feld : Ne of þe Medewe Gras,

343

Ne non oþer-cunne fruit : Þe folk for to frore—
I-wis, hit is for synne : Þat mony Mon is pore.—
Haue þou neuer so muche : Of worldes good here,
Al schal passen a-wey : As fantum hit were.
ffor to haue þin herte : To muche þer-Inne,
Of þi mok to make þi god : Hit is dedly synne.
And ȝit, ar þow war be : ffrom þe wol hit fare,
Þenne schalt þou haue þerfore : Boþe serwe and care,
And ȝit at þin ende : Gret stryf in cas,
And puite þe out : Of al þat þin was;
Þin Executours schul take : Þi goodes at heore wille
And lete þi soule ligge : In pyne ful stille.
Beo þou in þi put i-brouȝt : Wormes schul eten þe,
And sone schalt þou be for-ȝeten : Siker mayȝt þou be.
Þerfore I rede, as Salamon his sone bad,
Þat vche Mon skilfuli of his god mak him glad,
Mete and drynke and cloþ : Catel and oþer þyng
Þat nedful is to haue : Wiþ-outen wastyng;
Þe pore schal he helpe : Wher þat is nede,
Of þat god haþ him sent : Don his Almes-dede,
Ȝif him mete and drynk : And cloþe him wiþ wede—
In al þi werkes, be þe syker : Þe better schalt þou spede;
Ȝif him of þi Cuppe : Of þat is þer-in,
Water to drynke : Ale oþer Wyn;
And ȝif he haþ nede : Clepe him þe neer
And make him sitte & warme him : Bi þyn hote fuyr;
Bedde hym esyliche : Ȝif þat he seek be,
And serue him wel, for his loue : Þat al haþ ȝeuen þe.
Worldes wele is wonderful : Wel may I seyn,
Lyk þe se þat floweþ : And ebbeþ a-ȝeyn;
Þer nis no sikernesse : In þis worldes won,
No-mon not whon hit wole : A-wei from him gon,
Ne how longe hit wol laste : Ne how luytel while—
Þulke þat hit loueþ most : Ofte hit doþ hem gyle.
He þat loueþ catel wel : And bounden is in Couetyse,
He schal ben I-bounden : In þreo-kynne wyse:
Þouȝt and drede are þe two : Þat schul bynden hym faste,
Þe þridde is muche serwe : Þat euermore schal laste.

344

Ofte for his catel : Mon moot wake of slepe,
Trauaylen in reyn and in snowh : Beo þe weyes neuer so depe,
ffrom toune to toune : Boþe fer and neer,
As Chapmen mote don : To heore mesteer;
Ouer þe salte séé ofte þei fare
ffor heor Marchaundise, in gret peril and care,
And ofte and mony a tyme : [leseþ] Catel and heore lyf
And makeþ vuel to fare : Boþe Chyld and Wyf.
Oþer Men dyke and delue : And gon to þe plouh,
To Cart and to þreschynge : And oþur swynk I-nouh.
Whon he wiþ his swynk : Haþ wonne gret be-ȝete,
Euere he is afert : Þat he schal hit forleete;
And ȝif he hit leten schal : Hym is wo þerfore,
And is so sori þenne : þat euer was he bore.
Þouȝt and drede & sorinesse : Aren Monnes fo—
He ouȝte neuere loue : Þing þat doþ hym so wo.
Ȝif he leose eny þing : And he gret good con,
Beo-þenk hym of Iob : Þat was a good mon:
He hedde of alle richesses : Swiþe muche won
And in a luytel while : He nedde riht non;
Þo he hedde riht nouȝt : But al was a-go,
Ne seide he for his harm : Enes ‘me is wo,’
But louede God wel : And þonkede hym þon—
He dude as þe wyse : So schulde eueri mon;—
Nolde he not for his los : Noþing sori be,
‘God,’ he seide, ‘hit me ȝaf : And bi-raft hit me;’
Ne grucched he nouȝt, but þonked godes sonde
And seide ‘blesset be his nome, in water & in londe.’”
Þe wikked gost onswerde þon
And seide þat he was a folted mon.
“Þou spekest of Lecherie
And of fewe wordes makest monye;
ffalse wordes wolt þou leeue & here hem gladli—
Þou nost what þou menest, i sigge þe sikerli!
Of luytel wit hastou Mynde:
Ne mot a Mon don his kynde?
Hit was ordeynd þorw Godes biddyng
At þe worldes be-gynnyng.

345

Beo þi tale þow woldest hit bringe
Al to-gedere in to spousynge
Or elles leue þat game,
Þat me nedde of God blame.
Whose aftur þi counseil doþ,
Repente him schal, I sei for soþ:
He þat takeþ hym to spousyng,
Mai not lyuen for no þing,
Bote holden he mot to his wyf
And ben in Cuntek and in stryf—
Betere him were dihte and go—
ffor weddyng is þe longe wo.
Whon he haþ a wyf I-take,
He mai hire nouȝt forsake;
He þat haþ a schrewe to wyue,
Of vche a day him þinkeþ fyue;
Of muche Murþe he schal misse
And euere ha serwe and neuer blisse,
Þer anoþer mai leue and take
Wher he wole, and eke forsake;
Lihtliche and glad may he go,
Whon he þat is bounden schal be ful wo,
And be liht and Iolyf
More þen on þat haþ a wyf.
ffor-þi I rede þat men do so
And lete weddynge a-wey go.”
Þe goode Mon wel vnderstod
Þat his counseil was not good.
“He is a fol and noþing wys : Þat foleweþ þi Red:
Þe Mon þat foleweþ his flesches lust : His soule schal be ded;
But ȝif he do kuyndely : And wiþ spoused fere,
In helle he schal a-buggen : His flessches lyking here.
Þer beoþ þorw godes lawen : Ten Comaundemens,
Þat vche mon ouȝte kepe : Elles he brekeþ his defens;
Spous-bruche, forsoþe : Is þe grettest of alle—
Þo þat aren I-weddet, kep hem wel : Þat þei þer-Inne ne falle;
He þat wol folewen his flessches lust : And þe lawe breke,

346

Ne þinke him no wonder þenne : þauȝ god on hym a-wreke.
Mon in Godes lawe : Mai wel haue a Make,
To do wiþ hire his wille : ffor childberynge sake,
And louen eiþer oþer : Whon tyme is and leue,
And holden hem wel to-gedere : As Adam dude and Eue.
But hit beo in wedlac : In alle wyse lef þat game
And liue in chastite : And be wiþ-outen blame!
Gret schome hit is and synne : I swere þe be heuene,
To spende þi fyue wittes : In eny of þe synnes seuene,
Þat God þe haþ I-ȝiuen : And þine lymes alle,
ffor to kepe þe wiþ : In synne þat þou ne falle.
A foul chaunge hit is, forsoþe : And a gret vuel,
To chaunge heuene for helle : And God for þe deuel;
Þat dostou, as ofte as þou syngest dedli
And brekest godus comaundemens & dost a gret foli;
Þe deueles þral þou be-comest : Whon þou dost þi miht
To foule þi clene soule : Bi daye or be niht . . .
Niht and day he studieþ : And casteþ his gynne
How he may bi alle weyes : A wommons loue wynne;
Nil he neuer stunten : He swereþ his oþ,
Ar he haue his wille i-don : Be god neuer so wroþ.
And heo wol haue him, heo seiþ : Euermore to dwelle,
Raþer þen heo hym for-go : Ben in þe put of helle.
But wusten heo what hit were : Þe leste pyne þer-Inne,
ffor al þe good in eorþe : þei nolde don dedly synne!
ffor þei nolde not be war : Er þei coome þare,
In pyne schul þei euer be : In serwe and in care.
Þo þat aren gode : Liuen in muche wynne;
Þe gode gon a Godeshalf : Þe deueles limes to synne.
Whon þei comen to-gedere : Eiþer on oþer wynkeþ;
Þat þei ne hedde heor synne i-do : Longe þer-to hem þinkeþ;
Whon þei seo heore tyme : Wol þei not longe dwelle,
Bote þei do þe dede : Þat echeþ þe fuir of helle.
Þe fuir þat is in helle : Is euer Brennynge,
Þe synful wrecche soules : Þer-Inne pynynge;
Þe Mo þat are þer-Inne : Þe hattore is þe lye,
And þe pyne hardore : Þat þe soules drye.

347

Heo beoþ grete foles : ffor soþe I sigge, I-wis,
Þat makeþ þe pyne more : And hattore þen hit is.
Þulke þat brekeþ godes word : Þorw heor dedly synne,
Þei lihten þe fuir : Þat þei schulen brennen Inne.
Godes Comaundement þei breke : Al þat doþ lecherie:
In helle-fuir schul þei euer be : Heore peynes to drie.”
Þe wikkede gost onswerede þo
And seide þat hit was not so.
“So þou seist as false men do:
Þat Sleuþe is synne, and is not so.
Men mot haue, ȝif þei may,
Ese and reste, niȝt and day,
In Bedde, in Mete beo al at his ese
And mak þe bodi euer wel at ese.
After þi deþ wost þou not what,
What þou schalt haue, þenk wel on þat!
While þou miȝt, make þe glad and muri!
Lengor liueþ a glad mon þen a sori.
Al knowe I wel þi resun
And what be-tokneþ þi lessun:
ffor Men scholde to chirche gonge,
To here Matins, Masse, and Euensonge,
Heore pater noster to sigge, Aue Marie, & Crede,
And ete of prestes holy brede.
What, wenest þou for such þing
Þi soule in to heuene bring?
Ho bi-gon furst to worche,
And whi was maad, holichirche?
Of Prestes couetise hit was biþouht
Þat churche was furst I-wrouht,
ffor he wolde haue offryng
And liue bi oþur mennes þing.
He wole a-Morwe Belle rynge,
And þenne wol he Matyns synge;
And ȝif þer luite folk comeþ þerto,
He wol hiȝe faste and haue I-do;
And ȝif þer muche folk come, I sigge þe,
He wol make gret solempnite:
Reuesten him þenne wole he wel
Wiþ riche pal and sendel,

348

He wol don on his canter-cope
And gon as he were a Pope;
Siþen he wole wiþ springel-stikke
Ȝiuen holy water a-bouten þikke,
And syngen loude wiþ schil þrote,
And seiþ hit is þe soule note
Þat þe prest seiþ and doþ—
Þe folk weneþ þat hit be soþ;
Bi-fore his Auter he wol stonden
And holde vp an heiȝ boþe his honden,
He wol synge mony a þrowe,
Sum-time heiȝe & sum-time lowe,
He wole him turne & take good hede
Ȝif eny Mon him bringe mede.
Ȝif muche folk come and þringe
Offringe faste him to brynge,
He wole amende faste his song—
Þat tyme þinkeþ him not long.
And whon þei wole him no-þing brynge,
Lust him no-þing for to synge,
ffaste he hiȝeþ hym to spede
And ȝiueþ hem of his holy brede—
Þat is þe beste of al his dede,
ffor hit helpeþ to monnes nede;
Þauȝ hit be luytel, hit turneþ to gode,
ffor hit helpeþ to Monnes foode.
Whon he haþ al I-do,
He ȝiueþ heom leue and let hem go;
But euer a-Mong al oþur nede
His oune erende wol he bede,
Þat þei brynge heore offrynges
To Chirche, and heore tyþinges.
Wel þou wost þat þis is soþ:
Al for his owne gode he hit doþ;
Kepeþ he nouȝt of heore comynge,
But ȝif þei wole him eni good bringe.—
But, ȝif þou wolt on eny wyse
At Chirche here þi seruyse,
A-tome þou maiȝt ful wel abyde
Til he haue seid þe laste tyde;

349

And ȝit maiȝt þou lengore dwelle
And come be tyme to þe gospelle;
A-tome maiȝt þow do good nede
And come to þe Masse crede;
And ȝif þe luste riȝt wel slope,
Cum whon he doþ of his Masse-cope;
And þeiȝ þou ne come, ne ȝif no tale,
Til he halibred be-ginne to dale:
Þenne maiȝt þou ben al ȝare,
And hom wiþ þi neiȝebors fare.”
Þe goode Mon wel vnderstod
Þat his techynge was not good.
“Al þat þou spekest hit is nouȝt : Þow miȝtest wel be stille,
Al þat þe bodi lykeþ wel : Is aȝeyn þe soule wille.
Ese and reste and muri lyf : Men lykeþ wel and wymmenne,
But þei brynge þe soule in strif : Aȝeyn þei wenden henne.
Þe bodi and þe soule beþ : Wel neih euere wroþ:
ffor þat þe bodi lykeþ wel : Is to þe soule loþ.
Muche tale þou makest : Þe foule bodi to queme,
But of þe seli soule : Takest þow no ȝeme.
Aftur þat þe bodi doþ : Schal þe soule fynde
And in peyne or in Ioye : Euere þerof haue mynde.
Ȝif Men loue to slepe : Whon þei scholden wake,
Þenne schal þe soule : In stude of Ioye haue wrake.
Monnes lyf nis bote schort : Sone wol hit go,
Bote þe sely soule : Duyreþ euer-mo;
Þe soule schal faren his wey : Þe bodi schal a-byde
And not nouȝt of þe soule : What hit schal be-tyde.
But wel I wot, and soþ hit is : After monnes dede,
Whon he is forþ faren : He schal hauen his mede:
Ȝif he haue loued god : And kept his biddynge,
Þe blisse of heuene schal he haue : Wiþ-outen endynge;
Ouþur in to peyne schal he be brouȝt,
Ȝif he haue þer-aftur wrouȝt.—
Þerfore is ned on alle wyse
Men to go to Godes seruyse
And wake þe more and slepe þe lasse,

350

To here Matyns, Euensong, and Masse.
Whon men han aȝeyn god : In dedly synne falle,
Heo ouȝten for to wepe : And Merci to God calle,
And wenden to þe prest : Hastiliche and sone
And tellen him in schrif : What synne he haþ i-done.
A fool he is þat a-bydeþ : Eny gret stounde,
Til þer come more sor : And cleue to þe wounde.
Also hit fareþ bi synne : I wot wiþ-outen wene,
As doþ be þe wounde : While hit is newe and grene.
Þe leche clanseþ þe wounde : Clene in þe ground
And leiþ salue a-boue : And makeþ hit hol and sound;
Mon may for a wounde : Or for a luitel sor,
Bote hit be sone I-heled : Be worse and wel mor:
Ȝif o sor come to anoþer : Þenne are þer two,
And ȝif he longe a-byde : Þen wol þer be mo;
His owne bone mai hit be : Longe for to abyde—
Þerfore I rede, sech leche-craft : Soone, what be-tyde.
Also hit fareþ bi synne : Ȝif hit I-hud is;
Bote hit be to þe prest : Soone I-told, I-wis,
Hit draweþ hem to helle-grounde : And byndeþ hem to peynes stronge;
Þe hardore peyne schal he haue : Ȝif he þer-Inne ligge longe.
Þe lengor þat men a-byde : Þe latere comeþ bote;
Þei stonde wel þe fastore : Whon þei haue take rote.
Þauȝ Men fallen in synne : Gret wonder hit nis;
But ligge stille þer-Inne : Þat is wonder gret, I-wis!
Ȝif þow liggest in þe fuir : And brennest on eny wyse,
Who is for to wyte : Þi-self wolt nouȝt arise?
Mynde haþ he non : Of God þat hym wrouhte
And on þe Roode-tre : Wiþ his passion him bouhte.
Wel hit is I-seene : Þat þei are ful slowe
Þat to þe prest nil not : Heore synnes ben a-knowe,
And luytel þonk þei cunne god : ffor his goode seruyse,
Whon þei wole not for his loue : Out of synne aryse.
Þinke no mon wonder : Þauh god wiþ hem be wroþ
And take vengeaunce on hem : Beo hem neuer so loþ!
Schriueþ ow be-tyme : ffor loue or for feer,
ffor God takeþ wreche : Heer or elleswher;
Bi-weopeþ ȝoure synnes : And criȝeþ God Merci,

351

And to alle his werkes : Beoþ euere redi!
Whon hit is halyday : Vche Mon ouhte wiþ rihte
To heere his seruyse in chirche : Ȝif he on eny wyse mihte,
And not in sleuþe ligge, : In bed a-tome abyde
Til þe prest haue I-seid : Þe laste non-tyde.
Ȝif þou go at morwe : And Matyns here erliche,
Hit is þe soule profyt : I sigge þe sikerliche;
Þeih þi flesch grucche : Lette nouht þerfore—
Þe ofter þow ouercomest hit : Þi Meede schal beo þe more;
Ȝif þow herest Matyns and Masse : And takest haly brede,
To Bodi and to soule : Þow wynnest muchel Mede.
After Mete loke þou go to þe prechynge,
Ȝif eny beo in toune—lette for no þynge—
And þat þe prechur precheþ : Vnderstonde hit wel,
And do as he þe techeþ : I rede þe, vche a del.
Ȝif þer no prechyng be : Go visyte þe seke,
Cumforte hem wiþ þin Almes : And wiþ þi wordes Meke.
Aftur, whon þei rynge : Go to Euen-song,
And lette for no cumpaignye : Þat þow art aMong;
Ȝif þow do not, for soþe : Þou dost þe deueles wille,
Whon þou in ganglyng and drynkyng : Dwellest wiþ hem stille.
Whon Euensong & cumplyn boþe ben ido,
Hom to þi soper þen wel maiȝt þou go.
I rede þenne, ar þow go : ffulliche in to þi bed,
Þonke crist of þat day : Þat þow hast wel I-sped;
And ȝif þou ouȝt hast mis-done,
Aske him merci, I rede, sone;
Be-teche þi lyf and þi soule : To God Almihti:
And þenne maiȝt þou slepe : wel and sikerly.
Whon þow risest vp, þonke god : Inwardliche wiþ al þi miht,
Þat þe haþ saued from encumbrement : Of þe ffend þat niht;
Be-teche al in godes hond : Þi preyers and þi dedes,
Þi wittes and þi willes : And al þyn oþer nedes.

352

Avise þe in al þi werkes : Þow saue þe from dedli synne,
And do as I counseyle þe : And heuene schalt þou winne.
In what werk, Mon, þat þou be : worche euer trewli,
Or þou schalt haue peine þerfore : Ȝif þou worche falsli;
Ȝif þow take here þi fulle huyre : And dost not fulliche þi werk þerfore,
In helle or in purgatorie : Þi peyne schal be wel þe more.
Of what condicion so þou art : Trewe in alle þing þou be,
And do so to vche mon : As þou woldest he dude to þe;
And loke in al þat þou seist & dost : Þat God be euere apayd,
And lef sleuþe & al oþer synnes : As Ich haue I-seid!”
Þe wikked gost onswerde þon
And seide : “þou art a Mad mon!
Þauȝ þou woldest now be-ginne
And sigge þat glotenye were sinne,
Beter þe were þi Ianglyng lete.
Men scholde dye, ȝif þei ne ete,
And bote þei drinke wel, also;
No Mon mai liue wiþ-outen hem two.
To Badde counseil art þou euer ȝare,
To ffastyng and to vuel fare.
What good comeþ of fastyng?
ffeyntyse, Idelnesse, & non oþur þing.
Þat maiȝt þow wel wite be skil.
Whon þe flesch haþ Mete & drinke at wil,
Þen is he redi to fihte and chide
Wiþ alle þo þat gon and ride.
Ho mai duire for to swynke,
But ȝif he ete wel and drinke?
Hunger makeþ men beo bi-hynde
In vche a werk, as I fynde.
Gode drinkes & Metes wel I-diht
Are wel I-loued, and þat is riht.
Ȝif he beo a stout sweyn,
He eteþ til hit come vp aȝeyn.
Al-þauh hit be so þat he caste—
So he mihte, þauh he faste—

353

Hit nis for no dronkenesse,
But for oþer seknesse.
Whon he is heled of þat sore,
He may ete and drinke more,
And make glad and bliþe chere—
ffor euere is ale and wyn good fere.
Et faste and drink wel : And sleep euere a-mong:
And þenne mayht þow lyue : Ȝeres monye and long.”
Þe gode Mon, þat in god was stable,
Vnderstod, þat he seide, was fable.
“Wel I wot þat men mote liue : Be Mete and be drynk,
As skile is and resun : And Mesure in alle þyng.
Þei þat liuen as beestes : Aren wiþ-outen lay,
Þat erliche eteþ and drynkeþ : And holdeþ on al day.
Þe beest doþ his kynde : And þe glotun synne
Doþ aȝeyn his kynde : Þat wol neuer blynne.
Suche foule glotounes : Doþ a-ȝeyn þe lawe.
Ar þe wombe be ful : Beo þei neuer fawe;
Þenne wol þei chiden and fiȝten also—
Serwe on heore hedes, but þei wel do!
Mete and drynke is ȝiuen to mon : As salue to sore,
Þat neodful is to take þerof : And neuere a del more.
Ȝif þow to muche salue : Leyst to þi sar,
Hit wol beo þi deþ : Bote þow sone be war;
So wol hit of Mete & of drinke be:
Þi soule bone, ȝif þou take mor þen nedeþ þe.
Whon mon haþ at Meel-tyme : Such as he wile,
Tak þat he haþ neode of : Be Mesure and bi skile,
And parte wiþ þe pore : Of þat is on [his] bord,
And not in his wombe : Make al his hord—
ffor þer is foul tresorie : And al ful of stinke.
Al þat þou takest mor þen neod is : In peyne þou schalt of-þinke.
In þe Bok of priuetes : Glotons are Manased so:
‘Aȝeyn O drauȝt þei drinke ouer-muche : Þei schul han þre or two
Of hot led and walled bras. : Þei schul beo ful wo,
ffor stynkyng brumston and for pich : Þat in heore þrotes schal go.’
Þus seide þe prest þat god wol take wreche,

354

But ȝif ȝe leue synne and do as I ow teche.”
Þe wikkede gost, þer he stood,
Wox for wraþþe wel-neiȝ wood,
ffor he was ouer-comen and be-hynde—
ffor mo onsweres couþe he not fynde.
Þe gode Mon þenne was a-bascht
And lokede on þe wikkede gast
And seide: “now wot I, þow art non
Mon mad of flesch and bon;
I vnderstonde wel be þi spelle
Þat þou art þe deuel of helle.
I þe Comaunde, foule þing,
In þe nome of heuene kyng,
Þat þow me noþing drecche,
But bi-cum now, foule wrecche,
As foul as þou were
In helle wiþ þi feere.”
Ne mihte he no lengure a-byde,
Bote bi-com þo also-tyde
ffoul as helle-Sathanas,
As Blac as eny pich he was—
How foul he was con I not telle,
But foul he stonk as stunch of helle.
Þe gode mon blessed him wiþ þe Crois
And criȝed on God wiþ loud vois,
Bi-fore, be-hynde he blessed him fast,
And Comaundede þat sori gast
ffor to wenden : and so he dude þo,
To þat stude þat he com fro.
Pouwer hedde he no lengore dwelle,
But wente doun riht in to helle.
Þe gode Mon wente hom his way,
And serued god wel to pay,
And þonked him—so ouhte he wel—
Þat him sauede from þe deuel.
Ihesu Crist such grace vs sende
Hym to serue to vre lyues ende,
And kep vs from þe synnes seuene,
And graunt vs alle þe blisse of heuene!