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Thauctour geyn the pride of Princis.

Myn auctour Bochas stynt heer for a while,
Sharped his penne of entencioun,
Gan of angre to transport his stile
To write off tirauntis for ther transgressioun,
Moor wood & fell than any scorpioun,
Them counseillyng, whan thei be most bold,
For to remembre on this proude Arnold.
He ne was nat in his pride assailed,
Nat with wolues, tigres nor leouns,
With rauynous beres nor wilde boor trauailed,
Nowthir with othir myhti champiouns,
Which haue conquered many regiouns;
But with wermys engendrid of his kynde
The saide Arnold was moordrid, as I fynde.
In suich disioynt the sayd[e] Arnold stood,
With lees and wermys fret ageyn nature,
That was so nih[e] born of Charlis blood,
Impotent the peyne to endure.
Which was in sooth an vnkouth auenture,
That a prince myht nat be socourid
Of smale wermys for to be deuourid.
A gret exaumple, who list considre & see,
To princis alle for tabate ther pride.
Lat hem considre ther fragilite,

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To seen an emperour [for] to abide
Thassaut of wermys—& ley ther bost aside,
In this Arnold wisli aduertise
How God hath poweer ther pompe to chastise.
Deth of Arnold dide my penne encoumbre
For the gret abhomynacioun.
Than onto Bochas cam the tuelue in noumbre,
Callid Pope Iohn, as maad is mencioun,
Entryng be fraude and fals eleccioun,
To Goddis lawe froward & contrarie,
Nat lik a pastor but a mercenarie.