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| II. |
 | [Poems from the Vernon MS] |  |
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.
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 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,
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;
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;
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;
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;
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.”
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 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.”
| [Poems from the Vernon MS] | |