University of Virginia Library

Of Enuye.

The seconde synne in ordre veryly
Is the foule synne of Enuy.
Hast thou ben euermore grutchynge.
Agaynst god for ony thynge
Hast thou ben in herte glad.
When thy neyghboure hathe harme had
Hast thou had in herte grefe.
Of his good and his relefe
Hast thou be glad and mery
When he hath ben seke and sory
Or hast thou ben sory and madde
When he hathe ben mery and gladde.
Or that the worlde standeth not with the.
As dothe with hym in no degre.
Or bycause he hathe shepe and fell
Horse kyne or other catell.
Corne grasse haye to mowe
Wode or pasture more then thowe
Remembre sone the chaunce and course.
Thoughe he be ryche what arte yu ye worse.
And thou be poore and thy good go awaye.
Thou canst not passe from Ioye vnto Ioye
Thanke god of pouerte and fle from seuen.
And yu shalte enheryte ye kyngdome of heuē
He that hathe good hathe grete cure

Ihesu.

Of this I fynde in holy scrypture.
Sanitas continua & rerum habundantia
Sunt eterne dampnationis iudicia

Mercy.

When a mānes herte is on his good annexte
Therin is grete Ieoperdy as sayth ye texte.
Hast yu noyed thy neygbour by ony chaūce
For ony promocyon that dyde hym auaunce
Or because he behaueth hȳselfe amōge mē
And better in fauoure then thou ken
With his mayster lorde or kynge
Or hathe more then thou of chepynge.
Or that he is more able then thowe
To all maner grace or prowe.
Haste thou in hele or sykenesse
Borne ony false wytnesse
A yenst thy neyghboure free or bonde
And madest hym lese good or londe
Haste thou enuyed thyne vnderlynge
For he was good and thryuynge
Or lest he wolde passe the
In vertue or ony other degre.
Haste thou for hate or enuye
Holpen or counsayled for tolye
Or ony man for to defame.
Or for to stroye his good name
Haste thou bakbyted thy neyghbore
For to make hym fare the wore.
Haste thou reysed ony debate
Amonges they neyghbours for ony hate
Haste thou spared for enuye
To teche a man his harme to flye.
Whan thou myghtest by thy warnynge
Haue hym saued from his harmynge
And ony other thynge come to thy mynde
Shewe it forth leue none behynde.
And what thou hast more in thy thought.
Shryue the sone and spare it nought