Instructions for Parish Priests :: :: University of Virginia Library

God seyth hym self, as wryten we fynde,
That whenne þe blynde ledeth þe blynde,
In to þe dyche þey fallen boo,
For þey ne sen whare by to go.
So faren prestes now by dawe;
They beth blynde in goddes lawe,
That whenne þey scholde þe pepul rede
In to synne þey do hem lede.
Thus þey haue do now fulle ȝore,
And alle ys for defawte of lore,
Wharefore þou preste curatoure,
Ȝef þou plese thy sauyoure,
Ȝef thow be not grete clerk,
Loke thow moste on thys werk;
For here thow myȝte fynde & rede.
That þe be-houeth to conne nede,
How thow schalt thy paresche preche.
And what þe nedeth hem to teche,
And whyche þou moste þy self be.
Here also thow myȝte hyt se;
For luytel ys worthy þy prechynge,
Ȝef thow be of euyle lyuynge.

Preste, þy self thow moste be chast,
And say þy serues wyþowten hast,
That mowthe & herte acorden I fere,
Ȝef thow wole that god þe here.
Of honde & mowþe þou moste be trewe,
And grete oþes thow moste enchewe,
In worde and dede þou moste be mylde,
Bothe to mon and to chylde.
Dronkelec and glotonye,
Pruyde and slouþe and enuye,
Alle þow moste putten a-way,
Ȝef þow wolt serue god to pay.
That þe nedeth, ete and drynke,
But sle þy lust for any thynge.
Tauernes also thow moste for-sake,
And marchaundyse þow schalt not make,
Wrastelynge, & schotynge, & suche maner game,
Thow myȝte not vse wythowte blame.
Hawkynge, huntynge, and dawnsynge,
Thow moste forgo for any thynge;
Cuttede clothes and pyked schone,
Thy gode fame þey wole for-done.
Marketes and feyres I the for-bede,
But hyt be for the more nede,
In honeste clothes thow moste gon,
Baselard ny bawdryke were þow non.
Berde & crowne thow moste be schaue,
Ȝef thow wole thy ordere saue.
Of mete and drynke þow moste be fre,
To pore and ryche by thy degre.
Ȝerne thow moste thy sawtere rede,
And of the day of dome haue drede;
And euere do gode a-ȝeynes euele,
Or elles thow myȝte not lyue wele.

Wymmones serues thow moste forsake,
Of euele fame leste they the make,
For wymmenes speche that ben schrewes,
Turne ofte a-way gode thewes.
From nyse iapes and rybawdye,
Thow moste turne a-way þyn ye;
Tuynde þyn ye þat thow ne se
The cursede worldes vanyte.
Thus thys worlde þow moste despyse,
And holy vertues haue in vyse,
Ȝef thow do þus thow schalt be dere
To alle men that sen and here.