University of Virginia Library

MUM AND THE SOTHSEGGER

[Prologus.]

And as I passid in my preiere þer prestis were at messe,
In a blessid borugh þat Bristow is named,
In a temple of þe trinite þe toune euen amyddis,
That Cristis Chirche is cleped amonge þe comune peple,
Sodeynly þer sourdid selcouþe þingis,
A grett wondir to wyse men as it well myȝth,
And dowtes for to deme for drede comynge after.
So sore were þe sawis of bothe two sidis,
Of Richard þat regned so riche and so noble,
That wyle he werrid be west on þe wilde Yrisshe,
Henrri was entrid on þe est half,
Whom all þe londe loued in lengþe and in brede,
And rosse with him rapely to riȝtyn his wronge,
For he shullde hem serue of þe same after.
Thus tales me troblid for þey trewe where,
And amarride my mynde rith moche and my wittis eke:
For it passid my parceit and my preifis also,
How so wondirffull werkis wolde haue an ende.
But in sothe whan þey sembled some dede repeute,
As knowyn is in cumpas of Cristen londis,
That rewthe was, if reson ne had reffourmed
The myssecheff & þe mysserule þat men þo in endurid.
I had pete of his passion þat prince was of Walis,
And eke oure crouned kynge till Crist wol[de] no lenger;
And as a [liage] to his [lord] þouȝ I lite hade,
All myn hoole herte was his while he in helthe regnid.
And for I [wuste] not witterly what shulde fall,
Whedir God wolde [g]eue him grace sone to amende,
To be oure gioure a[g]eyn or graunte it anoþer,
This made me to muse many tyme and ofte,
For to written him a writte to wissen him better,
And to meuve him of mysserewle his mynde to reffresshe
For to [preie] þe prynce þat paradise made,
To fullfill him with feith and fortune aboue,
And not to grucchen a grott aȝeine Godis sonde,
But mekely to suffre what-so him sente were.
And ȝif him list to loke a leef oþer tweyne,
That made is to mende him of his myssededis,
And to kepe him in confforte in Crist and nouȝt ellis,
I wolde be gladde þat his gost myȝte glade be my wordis,
And grame if it greued him be God þat me bouȝte!
And euery Cristen kyng þat ony [croune] bereth,
So he were lerned on þe langage my lyff durst I wedde,
Ȝif he waite well þe wordis and so werche þer-after,
[Ther nys no gouernour on þe grounde ne sholde gye him þe better,]
For all is tresour of þe trinite þat turneth men to gode.
And as my body & my beste oute to be my liegis,
So rithffully be reson my rede shuld also,
For to conceill, and I couȝthe my kyng and þe lordis;
And þer-for I [fondyd] with all my fyue wyttis
To traueile on þis tretis to teche men þer-after
To be war of wylffulnesse lest wondris arise.
And if it happe to ȝoure honde beholde þe book onys,
And redeth on him redely rewis an hundrid,
And if ȝe sauere sum-dell se it forth ouere,
For reson is no repreff be þe rode of Chester!
And if ȝe fynde fables or foly þer amonge,
Or ony fantasie yffeyned þat no frute is in,
Lete ȝoure conceill corette it and clerkis to-gedyr,
And amende þat ys amysse and make it more better:
For ȝit it is secrette and so it shall lenger,
Tyll wyser wittis han waytid it ouere,
That it be lore laweffull and lusty to here.
For witterly, my will is þat it well liked
Ȝou and all ȝouris and yonge men leueste,
To be-nyme hem her noyes þat neweth hem ofte.
For and þey mvse þeron to þe myddwardis,
They shall fele fawtis foure score and odde,
That yough[th]e weneth alwey þat it be witt euere.
And þouȝ þat elde opyn it oþer-while amonge,
And poure on it preuyly and preue it well after,
And constrewe ich clause with þe culorum,
It shulde not apeire hem a peere a prynce þouȝ he were,
Ne harme noþer hurte þe hyghest of þe rewme,
But to holde him in hele and helpe all his frendis.
And if ony word write be þat wrothe make myghte
My souereyne, þat suget I shulde to be,
I put me in his power and preie him, of grace,
To take þe entent of my trouþe þat thouȝte non ylle,
For to wrath no wyght be my wyll neuere,
As my soule be saff from synne at myn ende.
Þe story is of non estate þat stryuen with her lustus,
But þo þat folwyn her flessh and here frelle þouȝtis;
So if my conceyll be clere I can saie no more,
But ho be greued in his gost gouerne him better,
And blame not þe berne þat þe book made,
But þe wickyd will and þe werkis after.

[Passus Primus.]

Passus secundus.

But moche now me merueilith and well may I in sothe,
Of ȝoure large leuerey to leodis abouȝte,
That ȝe so goodliche [g]af but if gile letted,
As hertis y-heedyd and hornyd of kynde,
So ryff as þey ronne ȝoure rewme þoru-oute,
That non at ȝoure nede ȝoure name wolde nempne
In fersnesse ne in foltheed but faste fle awayward;
And some stode astonyed and stared for drede,
For eye of þe egle þat oure helpe brouute.
And also in sothe þe seson was paste
For hertis yheedid so hy and so noble
To make ony myrthe for mowtynge þat nyghed.
That bawtid ȝoure bestis of here bolde chere;
Þey seuerid and sondrid for somere hem faylid,
And flowen in-to forest and feldis abouȝte,
All þe hoole herde þat helde so [to]-gedir;
But ȝet þey had hornes half ȝere after.
Now liste me to lerne ho me lere coude,
What kynnes conceyll þat þe kyng had,
Or meued him most to merke his liegis,
Or serue hem with signes þat swarmed so thikke
Þoru-oute his lond in lengþe and in brede,
Þat ho-so had hobblid þoru holtes and tounes,
Or y-passid þe patthis þer þe prynce dwellyd,
[Of] hertis or hyndis on hassellis brestis,
Or some lordis leuere þat þe lawe stried,
He shulde haue y-mette mo þan ynowe.
For þey acombrede þe contre and many curse seruid,
And carped to þe comounes with þe kyngys mouþe,
Or with þe lordis þer þey belefte were,
That no renke shulde rise reson to schewe.
Þey plucked þe plomayle from þe pore skynnes,
And schewed her signes for men shulde drede
To axe ony mendis for her mys-dedis.
Thus leuereȝ ouere-loked ȝoure liegis ichonne;
For þo þat had hertis on hie on her brestis,
For þe more partie I may well avowe,
Þey bare hem þe bolder for her gay broches,
And busshid with her brestis and bare adoun þe pouere
Liages þat loued ȝou þe lesse for her yuell dedis.
So, trouthe to telle as toune-men said,
For on þat ȝe merkyd ȝe myssed ten schore
Of homeliche hertis þat þe harme hente.
Thane was it foly in feith, as me thynketh,
To sette siluer in signes þat of nouȝt serued.
I not what ȝou eylid but if it ese were;
For frist at ȝoure anoyntynge alle were ȝoure owen,
Bothe hertis and hyndis and helde of non oþer;
No lede of ȝoure lond but as a liege aughte,
Ty[l] ȝe, of ȝoure dulnesse deseueraunce made
Þoru ȝoure side signes þat shente all þe browet,
And cast adoun þe crokk þe colys amyd.
Ȝit am I lewde and litill good schewe
To coueyte knowliche of kyngis wittis,
Or wilne to witte [what] was þe mevynge
That [ladde] ȝou to lykynge ȝoure liegis to merke,
Þat loued ȝou full lelly or leuereȝ beg[a]nne,
And as redy to ride or renne at ȝoure heste
As wyghte myghte wilne wonnynge vppon erthe,
Tyll leuereȝ hem lette and lordyns wrongis,
As ȝoure-self fonde well whane fortune ȝou [fayled].
For whan ȝe list to lene to ȝoure owen lymes,
Þey were so feble and feynte for fauȝte of ȝoure lawe,
And so [wankel] and wayke wexe in þe hammes
Þat þey had no myghte to amende ȝoure greues
Ne to bere byrthen ȝoure banere to helpe.
But it longith to no liegeman his lord to anoye
Noþer in werk ne in word but if his witt faile.
“No, redely,” quod Reson “þat reule I alowe:
Displese not þi demer in dede ne in wordis
But if þe liste for to lede þi lyf in dissese.
But ȝif God haue grauntyd þe grace for to knowe
Ony manere mysscheff þat myȝtte be amendyd,
Schewe þat to þi souereyne to schelde him from harmes;
For and he be blessid þe better þe betydyth
In tyme for to telle him for þi trewe herte.”
Now for to telle trouthe þus þan me thynketh,
That no manere meyntenour shulde merkis bere,
Ne haue lordis leuere þe lawe to apeire,
Neiþer bragger ne boster for no breme wordis.
But ho-so had kunnynge and conscience bothe
To stonde vnstombled and stronge in his wittis,
Lele in his leuynge leuyd be his owen,
Þat no manere mede shulde make him wrye,
For to trien a trouthe be-twynne two sidis,
And lette for no lordsche[p] þe lawe to susteyne
Whane þe pore pleyned þat put were to wrongis,
And I were of conceill by Crist þat me bouȝte,
He shuld haue a signe and sum-what be ȝere
For to kepe his contre in quiete and in reste.
This were a good grounde so me God helpe!
And a trewe tente to take and to ȝeue,
[For] ony lord of this londe þat leuereȝ vsith.
But how the gayes han y-gon God wotte þe sothe
Amonge myȝtffull men alle þese many ȝeris;
And whedir þe grou[n]de of [g]ifte were good oþer ille,
Trouthe haþe determyned þe tente to þe ende,
And reson hath rehersid þe resceyte of all.
Ȝit I trowe ȝoure entente at þe frist tyme
Was, as I wene, ȝif I well thenke in multitude of peple,
That ȝe were þe more myȝtier for þe many signes
Þat ȝe and ȝoure seruauntis abouȝte so thikke sowid;
And þat þey were more tristi and trewer þan oþer
To loue ȝou for þe leuere þat legaunce stroied;
Or ellis for a skylle þat skathed ȝoure-self,
Þat comounes of contre [in] costis abouȝte
Sholde knowe be hir quentise þat þe kyng loued hem
For her priuy prynte passinge anoþer.
Ȝif þat was ȝoure purpos it passith my wittis
To deme discrecion of ȝoure well-doynge.
Þus were ȝe disceyued þoru ȝoure duble hertis,
Þat neuere weren to truste so God saue my soule!
But had þe good greehonde be not agreued,
But cherischid as a cheffeteyne and cheff of ȝoure lese,
Ȝe hadde had hertis ynowe at ȝoure wille to go and to ride.
And also in serteyne þe soþe for to telle,
I wondir not hyly þouȝ heed-dere [you] failid;
For litill on ȝoure lyf þe list for to rewe
On rascaile þat rorid with ribbis so lene,
For fauȝte of her fode þat flateris stelen,
And euere with here wylis & wast ofte þey hem anoyed,
Þat pouerte hem prickid full preuyliche to pleyne,
But where, þey ne wyste ne ho it wolde amende.
Þus ȝe derid hem vnduly with droppis of anger,
And stonyed hem with stormes þat stynted neuere,
But plucked and pulled hem anon to þe skynnes,
Þat þe fresinge frost freted to here hertis.
So whanne ȝoure hauntelere-dere where all ytakyn,
Was non of þe rasskayle aredy full growe
To bere ony breme heed as a best aughte,
So wyntris wedir hem wessh with þe snowis,
With many derke mystis þat maddid her eyne.
For well mowe ȝe wyttyn & so mowe we all,
Þat harde is þe somer þer sonne schyneth neuere.
Ȝe fostrid and fodid a fewe of þe best,
And leyde on hem lordschipe a leyne vppon oþer,
And bereued þe raskall þat rith wolde þei hadde,
And knewe not þe caris ne cursis þat walkyd;
But mesure is a meri mene þouȝ men moche yerne:
Þus [rend] be þe rotus ȝoure raskall endurid,
Tyll þe blessid bredd brodid his wyngis
To couere hem from colde as his kynde wolde.
Rith as þe hous-hennes vppon londe hacchen
And cherichen her chekonys fro chele of þe wynter,
Ryth so þe hende egle þe [heyere] of hem all,
Hasteth him in heruest to houyn his bryddis,
And besieth him besely to breden hem feedrin,
Tyll her fre fedris be fulliche y-pynned,
Þat þey haue wynge at her wyll to wonne vppon hille;
For venym on þe valeye hadde foule with hem fare,
Tyll trouthe þe triacle telde somme her sothes.
Thus baterid þis bred on busshes abouȝte,
And gaderid gomes on grene þer as þey walkyd,
þat all þe schroff and schroup sondrid from oþer.
He mellid so þe matall with þe hand-[melle]
That [þey] lost lemes þe leuest þat þey had.
Thus foulyd þis faukyn on fyldis abouȝte,
And cauȝte of þe kuyttis a cartffull at ones,
That rentis and robis with raveyn euere lauȝte.
Ȝit was not þe fawcon full fed at his likynge,
For it cam him not of kynde kytes to loue.
Than bated he boldeliche as a brid wolde,
To plewme on his pray þe pol fro þe nekk;
But þe blernyed boynard þat his bagg stall,
Where purraile-is pulter was pynnyd full ofte,
Made þe fawcon to floter and flussh for anger
That þe boy [nadd] be bounde þat þe bagge kepte.
But sone þer-after in a schorte tyme,
As fortune folwith ech fode till his ende,
This lorell þat [ladde] þis loby awey
Ouere frithe and forde for his fals dedis,
Lyghte on þe lordschepe þat to þe brid longid,
And was felliche ylauȝte and luggid full ylle,
And brouȝte to þe brydd and his blames rehersid
Preuyly at þe parlement amonge all þe peple.
Thus hawkyd þis egle and houed aboue,
Þat, as God wolde þat gouerneth all þingis,
Ther nas kyte ne krowe þat kareyne hantid,
Þat he ne with his lynage ne louyd full sone.
For wher-so þey ferde be fryth or be wones,
Was non of hem all þat him hide myȝth,
But cam with him a reclayme fro costis abouȝte,
And fell with her fetheris flat vppon þe erthe,
As madde of her mynde and mercy be-souȝte.
Þey myȝte not aschonne þe sorowe þey had serued,
So lymed leues were leyde all abouȝte,
And panteris preuyliche pight vppon þe grounde,
With grennes of good heere þat God him-self made,
Þat where-so þey walkid þey waltrid dounwardis;
And euere houed þe egle on hie on þe skyes,
And kenned clerliche as his kynde axith,
Alle þe preuy poyntis þat þe pies wrouȝth.

Passus Tercius.

Passus quartus.

[Mum and the Sothsegger.]

[FRAGMENT M]

Hovgh þe coroune moste be kepte fro couetous peuple
Al hoole in his hande and at his heeste eke,
That euery knotte of þe coroune close with oþer,
And not departid for prayer ne profit of [grete],
Leste vncunnyng [comyn] caste vp þe halter
And crie on your cunseil for coigne þat ye lacke,
For þay shal smaicche of þe smoke and smerte þereafter
Whenne collectours comen to caicche what þay habben.
And þough your tresorier be trewe and tymbre not to high,
Hit wil be nere þe worse atte wyke-is ende,
For two yere a tresorier twenty wyntre aftre
May lyue a lord-is life, as leued men tellen.
Now your chanchellier þat chief is to chaste þe peuple
With conscience of your cunseil þat þe coroune kepith,
And alle þe scribes and clercz þat to þe court longen,
Bothe iustice and iuges y-ioyned and oþer,
Sergeantz þat seruen for soulde atte barre,
And þe prentys of court, prisist of alle,
Loke ye reeche [not] of þe riche and rewe on þe poure
That for faute of your fees fallen in þaire pleyntes;
Haue pitie on þe penylees and þaire pleynte harkeneth,
And hire þaym as hertly as þough ye hure had,
For þe loue of hym þat your life weldeth;
And graunteth [þaym] for God-is sake and with a good chiere
The writing of writtz and þe waxe eke;
And þay wil loue you for þe lawe as liege men aughte,
More þenne for mayntenance þat any man vseth,
Or for any frounting for faute of þe coigne.
Now ye haue y-herde of þe haselle names
Of officiers withynne and withoute eke,
But yit of alle þe burnes þe beste is behinde
Forto serue a souurayn in somer and in wintre,
And most nedeful at eue and at morowe eke,
And a profitable page for princes or for ducz
Or for any lay lord, lettrid or elles,
That litel is y-take fourth or his tale lyeued;
And yf ye willeth to wite what þe wight hatte,
Hit is a sothe-sigger þat seilde is y-seye
To be cherisshid of chief in chambre or in halle,
But for his rathe reasons is rebukid ofte,
And yf he fable to ferre, þe foote he goeth vndre.
[T]here is no clerc with þe king þat cloþid hym ones,
[B]ut cloþid hym at cristmasse and al þe yere after.
[S]aunder þe seruiselees shuld be his name,
[For] he abidith in no houshold half a yere to þende
[But þe] lord and þe lady been loeth of his wordes,
And þe meyny and he mowe not accorde,
But al to-teereth his toppe for his trewe tales.
He can not speke in termes ne in tyme nother,
But bablith fourth bustusely as barn vn-y-lerid;
But euer he hitteth on þe heed of þe nayle-is ende,
That the pure poynt pricketh on þe sothe
Til þe foule flessh vomy for attre.
Thenne is þis freeke a-frountid for his feithful tale,
And y-[fulled] vndre foote while falsenes goeth aboute
With cautelle and with coigne forto caste deceiptz
Hough trouthe might be trauerssid and tournid of þe weye.
Thenne fareth fals fourth and flatereth atte beste
And lightly is y-lyved withoute long tale,
And euery gome of hym glad, so glorieusely he loketh
Thorough þe peynt[ur]e of þe preynte þat in þe palme hongeth.
Right as þe cockil cometh fourth ere þe corne ripe,
With a cleer colour, as cristal hit semeth,
Among þe grayne þat is grene and not ful growe,
Right so fareth falsnesse þat so freysh loketh
Thorough þe colour of þe crosse þat many men incumbreth.
But whenne trouthe aftre tornement hath tyme forto kerne
And to growe fro þe grovnde anone to þende,
Thenne fadeth þe flour of þe fals cockil.
That likne I to lyers, for atte þe long goyng,
Of euery segge-is sawe þe sothe wol be knowe.
Yit is hit not my cunseil to clatre what me knoweth
In sclaundre ne scathe ne scorne of þy brother,
For though þy tale be trewe þyn tente might be noyous,
For whiche þou mighte be harmed and haue þat þou serues.
For go to þe gospel þat grovnd is of lore,
And þere shal þou see þyself, yf þou can rede,
Whethir I wisse þe wel wisely or elles.
He seith þat þou shuldes þe synne of þy brother
Telle hym by tyme and til hymsilf oon,
Yn ful wil to amende hym of his mysse-deedes.
And yf he chargeth not þy charite but chideth þe agaynes,
Yit leue hym not so lightly þough he lovre oones,
But funde hym to freyne efte of þe newe,
And haue wittenes þe with þat þou wel knowes,
And spare not to speke, spede yf þou mowe,
And he þat moost is of might þy mede shal quite
For suche [soeth] sawes þat sounen into good,
And of a reasonable man rewarde to haue.
For whenne þy tente and þy tale been temprid in oone,
And menys no malice to man þat þou spekys,
But forto mende hym mukely of his misse-deedes,
Sory for his synne and his shrewed taicches,
And þe burne be y-blessid and balys cunne eschewe
And thrifty and towarde, þou shal thanke gete.
Were I a lord of a lande þat lawe aughte gouuerne,
Suche a siker seruant shuld haue robes,
Though he seide euer sothe and seruyd of noon other.
But now wolde I wite of a wise burne,
What kynnes creature þat me couthe telle
Where to finde þis freek, yf þe king wolde
Haue hym in housholde as holsum were.
“By Crist,” cothe a clerc þat conceipte he had,
“There is no wiseman, I wene, wolde be y-weddid
To suche a simple seruice, a-say where þe liketh,
For no maniere [mede] þat þereto belongeth,
Ne ferthryng ne frendship while flatryng helpeth.
For alle þe greet clercz þat with þe king lendith
Knoweth þis as kindely as clerc doeth his bokes:
Hit is no siker seruice but for a somer saison,
But yf hit were for a fool þat wold not be ferthred.
He might sey sothe sum while among þaym
And shuld be holde fooly þough hit feul after.”
But muche now I meruaille, and so mowen other,
That oure corouned king is kepte fro þo ludes,
Forto [saye] hym þe sothe sum while among
Hough he shuld grece þe griefz er þe woundz gunne festre
And so to leede his life in loue of þe royaulme.
For þe poure peuple hath prece of þaym many
Forto telle þaym þaire toyes twyes a woke;
And any neighebourgh be nigh on eue or a morowe,
Hit wold not long be lefte, my life durste I wedde;
And þat is grace and þaire good happe to gouuerne þaym better
And in welthe to be ware ere þat woo falle.
But þe king ne his cunseil cunne not mete with þaym,
But cleerly þe cause I knowe not for sothe
But dreede of þe deeth dryveth þaym þens,
Or elles looste of þaire likerous life vppon erthe.
Thus is þe court accumbrid and knoweth not þaire happes
Ne God neither goodman ne þaym-self nothir,
Til fortune for foolie falle atte laste,
And al þe world wondre on þaire wilde deedes.
But yf þe king might knowe þat þe comune talketh
[H]ough grotz been y-gadrid and no grief amendid
[A]nd hough þe lawe is y-lad whenne poure men pleyne,
[I] bilieue loyally oure liege lord wolde
[Ha]ue pitie on his peuple for his owen profit
[An]d amende þat were amysse into more ease.
[B]ut þe cause why þe king knoweth not þe mischief
Is for faute of a fabuler that I bifore tolde of,
Forto telle hym þe texte, and touche not þe glose,
How þe worde walketh with oon and with other.
But whenne oure comely king came furst to londe,
Tho was eche burne bolde to bable what hym aylid
And to fable ferther of fautz and of wrongz,
And romansid of þe misse-reule þat in þe royaulme groved,
And were behote high helpe, I herde hit myself
Y-cried at þe crosse, and was þe king-is wille
Of custume of coylaige þe comunes shuld be easid.
But how þe couenant is y-kepte I can not discryue,
For with þe king-is cunseil I come but silde.
But piez with a papegeay parlid of oones,
And were y-plumed and y-pullid and put into a caige.
Sith þe briddes were y-bete þe beke is vndre whinge
But yf þay parle priuyly to þaire owen peeris.
But þe king ne his cunseil may hit not knowe
What is þe comune clamour ne þe crye nother,
For þere is no man of þe meeyne, more noþer lasse,
That wol wisse þaym any worde but yf his witte faille,
Ne telle þaym þe trouthe ne þe texte nothir,
But shony forto shewe what þe shire meneth,
And beguile þaym with glose, so me God helpe,
And speke of þaire owen spede and spie no ferther,
But euer kepe þaym cloos for caicching of wordes.
And yf a burne bolde hym to bable þe sothe
And [mynne] hym of mischief þat misse-reule asketh,
He may lose his life and laugh here no more,
Or y-putte into prisone or y-pyned to deeth
Or y-[brent] or y-shent or sum sorowe haue,
That fro scorne oþer scathe scape shal he neure.
Thus is trouthe doune y-troode and tenyd ful ofte,
Y-bete and y-bounde in bourghes and in shires,
And principaly of princes y-pyned þenne of other,
Y-[halowid] and y-huntid and y-hoote trusse,
That he shoneth to be seye forto shewe his harmes,
But euer hideth his heede fro þe hayl-stones,
And is ouer-woxe with wrong and wickid wedes,
And tenyd with tares and al amisse temprid.
Yit wol he growe fro [greue] and his grayne bere,
And after sowe his seede whenne he seeth tyme.
For alle þe gomes vndre God goyng vppon erthe
Were neuer so slygh yit forto sle trouthe;
Though þay batre hym with battz and bete on hym euer,
Trouthe is so tough and loeth forto teere
And so pryuy with þe prince þat paradis made
That he hath graunt of his lyfe while God is in heuene
For þough men brenne the borough þere þe burne loiggeth,
Or elles hewe of þe heede þere he a hows had,
Or do hym al þe disease þat men deuise cunne,
Yit wol he quyke agayne and quite alle his foes
And treede ouer þe tares þat ouer his toppe groued,
And al wickid wede into waste tourne.
And þerefore my cunseil (þough þe king knowe hit
And alle þe lordz of þis londe, right lite is my charge)
Ys to be at oone with trouthe and tarre hym nomore,
Leste he tucke at your tabart ere two yere been endid,
But ye suffre his seruant to be seye oones
Among you in þe moneth (but yf ye more wil)
Forto saye you þe sothe, þough ye shame thenke.
For hit wol sauere your mouthe swetely with-ynne short after
Whenne fortune you fleeth and falleth elles-where;
And yf ye sauere on his sawe and serue þereafter
And eke wirche by his worde, þe whele wol tourne
And eke chaunge his cours of care and of sorowe,
And tourne into tidewel, terme of your lifes.
Now is Henry-is hovs holsumly y-made
And a meritable meyny of þe moste greet,
And next I haue y-named as nygh as I couthe,
And þe condicions declarid of alle,
Rehershing no rascaille ne riders aboute.
But he hymsilf is souurayn, and so mote he longe,
And þe graciousist guyer goyng vppon erthe,
Witti and wise, worthy of deedes,
Y-kidde and y-knowe and cunnyng of werre,
Feers forto fighte, þe felde euer kepith,
And trusteth on þe Trinite þat trouthe shal hym helpe;
A doughtful doer in deedes of armes
And a comely knight y-come of þe grettist,
Ful of al vertue þat to a king longeth,
Of age and of al þing as hym best semeth.
But hit be wel in his dayes we mowe dreede aftre
Lest feerelees falle withynne fewe yeres.
But God of his goodnes þat gouuernith alle þingz
Hym graunte of his grace to guye wel þe peuple
And to reule þis royaume in pees and in reste,
And stable hit to stonde stille for oure dayes.
But I dreed me sore, so me God helpe,
[L]este couetise of cunseil þat knoweth not hymself
([O]f sum and of certayn, I seye not of alle)
[Th]at of profitable pourpos putteth þe king ofte,
[Th]ere his witte and his wil wolde wirche to þe beste—
“Nomore of þis matiere,” cothe Mum þenne,
“For I meruaille of þy momeling more þenne þou wenys.
Saides [not] þou þyself, and sothe as me þoughte,
That þees sothe-siggers seruen noon þankes?
And þou knowes þis by clergie, how cans þou þe excuse
That þou ne art nycier þan a nunne nyne-folde tyme,
Forto wite þat þy wil þy witte shal passe?”
I blussid for his bablyng and a-bode stille
And knytte þere a knotte and construed no ferther;
But yit I thoughte ere he wente, and he wold abide,
To haue a disputeson with hym and spie what he hatte.
“I am Mum þy maister” cothe he “in alle maniere places,
That [sittith] with souuerayns and seruyd with greete.
Thaire wille ne þaire wordes I withseye neuer,
But folowe thaym in thaire folie and fare muche þe bettre,
Easily for oyle, sire, and elles were I nyce.
Thus leede I my life in luste of my herte,
And for my wisedame and witte wone I with þe beste;
While sergeantz þe sechith to saise by þe lappe
For þy wilde wordes þat maken wretthe ofte.
Thow were better folowe me foure score wynter
Thenne be a soeth-sigger, so me God helpe,
Oon myle and nomore waye, I Mvm wol avowe.
And þerefore I rede, yf þou reste wilnest,
Cumpaignye with no contra yn no kynnes wise,
But parle for þy profit and plaise more here-aftre.
For þere nys lord of þis londe ne lady, I wene,
Prince nether prelat ne peer of þe royaulme,
Bachillier ne bourgoys ne no barne elles
That yf þay wite what þou arte, þat wil þe desire
Or coueite to his cumpaignie while contra þe foloweth”.
“Now to þis altercacion”, cothe I, “an answere behoueth;
For I fele by þy fabelyng þou art felle of werkes
And right worldly wise of wordes and deedes,
And euer kepis þe cloos for [casting] bihinde.
Thou wol not putte þe in prees but profit be þe more
To þy propre persone þou passes not þe bondes
Forto gete any grucche for glaunsyng of boltes.
Thus me semeth þat þou serues þy-self and no man elles,
And has housholde and hire to holde vp þy oyles,
And eke bouche of court for colte and for [cnaue];
And [yit] þou suffris þy souurayn to shame hym-self
There þou mightes amende hym many tyme and ofte.
Now suche a-nothir seruant, þe same and noon oþer,
Mote dwelle with þe deueil til Do Bette hym helpe.”
Thus after talkyng we twynned a-sundre,
Bothe Mvm and I, and oure mote endid;
But muche mervailled I, whenne Mvm was passid,
Of his opinion þat he heulde euer,
And prouyd hit by profitable poyntz [and fele]
That better was a burne to abide stille
Thanne þe soeth to seye þat sitteth in his herte,
Forto warne þe wy þat he with dwellith,
Or mynne hym of mischief þat misse-rewle askith.
And euer he concludid with colorable wordes
That who-so mellid muche more þan hit nedeth
Shuld rather wynne weping watre þenne robes.
And cleerly Caton construeth þe same,
And seyth soethly, I saw hit in youthe,
That of “bable” cometh blame and of “be stille” neuer,
And a wise worldly worde, as me þenketh,
Of þe whiche I was hevy and highly abawyd,
And for þe double doute as dul as an asse,
And troublid for þe travers, and amisse temprid,
That I wente in a wyre a grete while after
For woo I ne wiste who had þe better
Of Mvm and of me, and musid faste,
Rehershyng þe reasons of bothe two sides,
The pro and þe contra as clergie askith.
But for witte þat I wanne I wolde þat he knewe
I was neuer þe nyre, but as newe to begynne
As clerc is to construe þat can not reede.
Thenne þoughte I on Sidrac and Salomon-is termes,
And Seneca þe sage I soughte for þe nones,
That whilom were þe wisest wies vppon erthe
Forto wise any wighte, what-so hym grieued.
I bablid on þoo bokes þat þoo barnes made,
And waitid on þaire wordes aswel as I couthe,
But of þe matiere of Mvm might I nought finde,
Ne no maniere nycete of þe newe [iette],
But al homely vsage of þe olde date,
How þat [good] gouuernance gracieusely endith.
But glymsyng on þe glose, a general revle
Of al maniere mischief I merkid and radde:
That who-so were in wire and wold be y-easid
Moste shewe þe sore þere þe salue were.
Thenne was I wel ware what he wolde mene,
That I shulde cunne of clergie to knowe þe sothe,
Forto deme þe doute þat me so dul made.
I was wilful of wil and wandrid aboute,
Til I came to Cambrigge couthe I not stynte,
To Oxenford and Orleance and many oþer places
There þe congregacion of clercz in scole
Were stablid to stonde in strengthe of bilieue.
I moeued my matiere of Mvm, as ye knowe,
And of þe soeth-sigger in fewe shorte wordes;
To alle þe vij sciences I shewed as I couthe,
And how we dwellid in [dwere] and doute of þe better.
Sire Grumbald þe grammier þo glowed for anger
That he couthe not congruly knytte þaym to-gedre.
Music and Mvm mighte not accorde,
For þay been contrary of kynde, who-so canne spie.
Phisic diffied al [þe] bothe sides,
Bothe Mvm and me and þe soeth-siggre;
He was accumbrid of oure cumpaignye, by Crist þat me bought,
And as fayn of oure voiding as foul [of his make].
Astronomy-ys argumentz were alle of þe skyes,
He-is touche no twynte of terrene þinges.
Rethoric-is reasons me luste not reherce,
For he conceyued not þe caas, I knewe by his wordes;
But a subtile shophister with many sharpe wordes
Sette [þe] soeth-sigger as shorte as he couthe.
But he wolde melle with Mvm ner more ner lasse,
So chiding and chatering [as choghe] was he euer.
Ieometrie þe ioynour iablid faste,
And caste many cumpas, as þe crafte askith,
And laide leuel and lyne a-long by þe squyre.
But I was not þe wiser by a Walsh note
Of þe matiere of Mvm þat marrid me ofte,
And stoode al a-stonyed and starid for angre
That clergie couthe not my cares amende,
And was in pourpoos to passe fourth right in pure wreth.
But a semely sage þat satte al a-bouue,
Y-chose to þe chaire forto chaste fooles,
Whom alle þe vij. sciences seruyd at wille,
Bothe in werke and in worde weren at his heste,
And more bunne at his bede þan boy til his maister,
He satte as a souurayn on a high siege.
A doctour of doutz by dere God he semyd,
For he had loked al þat lay to þe .vij. artz;
He was as ful of philosophie and vertues bothe
As man vppon molde mighte perceyue.
This comely clerc me called agaynes,
And cunseillid me so cleerly þat I caughte ease,
And seide, “soon, seest þou þis semble of clercz,
How þay bisien þaym on þaire bokes and beten þaire wittz,
And how þay loken on þe levis þe [letter] to knowe?
For whenne þay knowen þe scripture þay construen no ferther
Forto soutille ne to siche no side-wayes.
But as long as I haue lerned and lokid in bokes,
And alle þe vij. sciences y-soughte to þende,
Yit knewe I neuer suche a caas, ne no clerc here,
As þou has y-moeued among vs alle.
Hit is sum noyous nycete of þe newe iette,
For þe texte truly telleth vs nomore
But how þat goode gouuernance graciousely endith.
But and þou woldes be wise and wirche as I telle,
I wolde wisse þe to wite where þat þou shuldest
Haue knowlaiche of þy caas cleere to þyn intent,
And þy cumberouse question quycly be assoilled.
Now harke and holde and hye to þende.
Sum of þis semble þat þou sees here,
Whenne þay haue loked þe lettre and þe lyfe[z] ouer
Of alle þe .vij. sciences or sum as þaym liketh,
Thay walken fourth in þe worlde and wonen with lordes,
And with a couetous croke Saynt Nicholas þay throwen,
And trauaillen nomore on þe texte, but tournen to þe glose,
And putten þaym to practike and plaisance of wordes.
But þay cunne deme þy doute, by dere God in heuene,
I can not knowe of þy caas who couthe elles.”
Thenne ferkid I to freres, alle þe foure ordres,
There þe fundament of feith and felnesse of workes
Hath y-dwellid many day, no doute, as þay telle.
I frayned þaym faire to fele of þaire wittes,
And moeuyd my matiere of Mvm, as ye knowe,
And of þe soeth-sigger in fewe sho[r]te wordes.
To euery couple I construed my caas for þe nones,
Til the cloistre and þe quyre were so accorded
To yeue Mvm þe maistrie withoute mo wordes,
And shewid me exemples, þe sothest vppon erthe,
Nad Mvm be a more frende to making of þaire houses
Thenne þe sothe-sigger, so God shuld þaym helpe,
Hit had be vnhelid half a yere after.
Now ne were thre skiles and scantly þe ferthe,
I wolde loue as litel þaire life and þaire deedes
As man vppon molde, til Amendes me prayed.
The furst is a faire poynt forto wynne heuene,
Whenne þay stirid a statute in strengthe of bilieue
That no preste shuld preche saue seely poure freres.
But þis [deede] dide þay not, I do you to wite,
For no maniere mede þat mighte þaym befalle,
Ne forto gete þe more good God wote þe sothe,
But for good herte þat þay haue to hele [men-is] soules.
The secund is a pryvy poynt I pray hit be helid:
Thay cunne not reede redelles a-right, as me þenketh;
For furst folowid freres Lollardz [names],
And sith hath be shewed þe same on þaym-self,
That þaire lesingz haue lad þaym to lolle by þe necke;
At Tibourne for traison y-twyght vp þay were.
For as hit is y-seide by eldryn dawes,
“Þe churle yafe a dome whiche came by hym aftre”.
The thrid is no lesing ne no long tale:
Thees good grey freres þat mouche loue geten
For keping of þaire conscience clenner þan other,
Thay goon al bare abouue þe foote and by-nethe double
With smale semyd sockes and of softe wolle,
For þe loue of oure lord harde life induren;
Thay mellen with no monaye more noþer lasse,
But stiren hit with a sticke and staren on hit ofte
And doon þaire bisynes þere-with by obedience of þordre;
But in þe herte ne in þe hande ne may hit not come,
For þenne þay shuld bee shent of þe subpriour.
The fourthe poynt is fructuous and fundid al in loue:
Whenne freres goon to chapitre for charite-is sake,
Thay casten þere þe cuntrey and coostz aboute,
And parten þe prouynce in parcelle-mele,
And maken limitacions in lengthe and in breede,
Til eche hovs haue his owen as hym aughte.
Thenne hath þe limitour leue to lerne where he cometh
To lye and to licke or elles lose his office;
But sum been so courtoys and kinde of þaire deedes
That with þaire charite þay chaungen a knyfe for a peyre,
But he wol pille ere he passe a parcelle of whete
And choise of þe chese þe chief and þe beste.
He is so cunnyng in þe crafte þat where-so he cometh
He leueth þe lasse for þe more deele.
Thus with þaire charite and with þaire fayre chere
Thees good God-is men gadren al to þaym
And kepen hit to þaire owen croppe clene fro other.
For þough a frere be fatt and haue a ful coffre
Of gold and of good, þou getys but a lite
Forto bete þy bale, þough þou begge euer.
But þat is no meruail, by Marie of heuene,
For to begge of a begger what bote is hit
But who wolde balle [with] his [browe] to breke harde stones?
Thus þaire conscience is y-knowe and þaire crafte eeke,
That hath be kepte cunseil and cloos many dayes,
Til al þe world wote what þay wolde meene;
And þat is þis trevly, tende who-so wil,
Thorough crafte of confession to knowe men intentz,—
Of lordz and ladies that lustes desiren,
And with þaire wyly wittz wirchen on euer
And mulden vp þe matiere to make þaym fatte,
And gouuernen þe grete and guilen þe poure.
Now take my tale as my intent demeth,
And ye shal wel wite I wil þaym no mischief
By my worde ne by my wille as wissely [for] sothe
As God þat is oure gouuernour me gye at my nede.
For whenne þay come to your cote to craue þat þaym nedeth,
Gyfe þaym for God-is sake and with a good wille
Mete or monaye as ye mowe indure,
And yefe þaym sauce þere-with of þe sothe-sigger
Forto preche þe peuple þe peril of synne,
How symonie shendith al hooly churche,
And not forbere bisshop ne baron þat lyveth
That þay teche treuly þe texte as hit standeth,
And abide þereby with a bolde herte,
And spare for no spicerie ne no speche elles,
But telle oute þe trouthe and tourne not a-side
How Couetise hath caste þe knyght on þe grene,
And woneth at Westmynstre to wynne newe spores,
And can not crepe þens while þe crosse walketh.
He multiplieth monaye in þe mote-halle
More for his mayntenance and manasshing of wordes
Thenne with draughte of his swerde or deedes of armes.
And telle þe frere a toquen, þat trouthe wote þe sothe
Why men meruaillen more on þaym þanne on othir,—
That suche a cumpaignye of confessours cunne not yelde
Oon martir among þaym in .vij. score wynter.
Thay prechen alle of penanche as þough [þay] parfite were,
But þay proue hit [in no] poynt þere þaire peril shuld arise.
Thaire cloþing is of conscience and of Caym þaire werkes,
That fadre was and fundre of alle þe foure ordres,
Of deedes þay doon deceipuyng þe peuple,
As Armacanes argumentz, þat þaire actes knewe,
Provyn hit apertly in a poysie-wise;
For of Caym alle came, as þis clerc tolde.
For who writeth wel þis worde and withoute titil,
Shal finde of þe figures but euene foure lettres:
C. for hit is crokid [for] þees Carmes þou mos take,
A. for þees Augustines þat amoreux been euer,
I. for þees Iacobynes þat been of Iudas kynne,
M. for þees Menours þat monsyd been þaire werkes.
I seye of þaym þat suche been and cesse agaynes oþer,
But wel I wote þat wilful and worldly þay been sum,
And eeke spracke and spitous, and spices wel þay louen,
For Symon-is sermons þay setten al to taske,
And feele oþer fautz fourtene hunthrid
Thay lepen ouer lightly, and lyen woundre þicke.
I can not deme deuely of what degre þay bee;
Thay been not weddid, wel I wote, þough þay wifes haue;
But knightz yit of conscience I couthe of þaym make,
For þay haue ioygned [in iustes] agayns Ihesus werkes;
And forto proue þaym prestes þees poyntz been agayne þaym.
I can not reede redily of what revle þay been,
For hooly churche ne heuene hath not þaym in mynde,
Saue in oon place þaire office and ordre is declarid,
I sawe hit in a ympne and is a sentence trewe,
And elles-where in hooly writte I herde þaym y-nempnyd.
But of þe matiere of Mvm ne of þe sothe-sigger
This is not to pourpoos þe pare of oon pere,
And þerfore my wil is to walke more at large
Forto fynde sum freeke þat of feith were
Not double, but indifferent to deme þe sothe,
Wheþer Mvm is more better or Melle-sum-tyme
Forto amende þat were amysse into more ease.
And for þe fikelle freres were fully witholde
And alied to Mvm in many maniere wises,
And eeke ful partie, as prouyd by þaire wordes,
I lyeued wel þe lasse þaire lore and þaire deedes,
And forto eschewe chiding I chalanged þaym alle,
And lepte lightly fro þaym, leste I laught were;
For þaire curtesie is crokid þere þay caste ille,
And þat witen þay wel þat han wrastlid with þaym.
Thenne passid I to priories and personages many,
To abbeys of Augustyn and many hooly places,
There prestz and prelatz were parfitely y-closid
To singe and to reede for alle cristen soules.
But for I was a meen man I might not entre;
For þough þe place were y-pighte for poure men sake
And eeke funded þere-fore yit faillen þay ofte
That þay doon not eche day do beste of alle.
For þe fundacion of þe fundours ment
Was groundid for God-is men, þough hit grete serue.
Thay koueiten no comers but yf þay cunne helpe
Forto amende þaire mynstre and to maynteyne þaire rente,
Or in worke or in worde waite þaire profit,
Or elles entreth he not til þay haue y-[sopid].
Thus thaire portier for my pourete putt me þens,
And grauntid me of his goodnesse to go where me luste
And to wandry where I wolde withoute þe gates.
Thenne raughte I fro religion, redelees of wittes,
And caried to closes and cathedralle churches
There þat pluralite was prisely y-stablid.
I queyntid me with þe quyre for my questions sake,
And moevid of Mvm more þenne þaym liked.
I was as wise whenne I wente as whenne I came to þaym,
Thay wolde not intremitte of ner noþer side,
But euer kepte þaym cloos to [cracche] and to mangier,
And fedde so þe foule flesh þat þe velle ne might
Vnethe kepe þe caroigne but yf hit cleue shuld;
And nad þe gutte groned þere þay gurde were,
Thay had bee sike of swete mete, so me God helpe,
For piking of prouendre passing þassise;
And nadde þay partid with þe poure as prestz doon þaire offryng,
That putten alle þaire masse penyes in þaire purses [bottume],
Thay had be blamyd of Belial for þaire bolde riding
Yn gurdellz of good gold or gilte atte leste.
Thenne woxe I wondre wery of wandring aboute
Thorough þe wilde weyes þat I wente had,
Ful woo for I ne wiste what was my beste
Reed—forto reste or rome more at large
Til I wiste wittrely who shulde haue
The maistrie, Mvm or þe sothe-sigger.
And euery man þat I mette mad for my wordes
Wende þat I were wisten þay non other.
And as I stoode staring, stonyd of þis matiere,
Mvm with his myter manachid me euer
And cunseilled me to cusky and care for myself,
And leste I soughte sorowe, cesse by tyme.
I doutid of his deedes, for his delectacion
Was more in his mynde þenne þe masse-bokes,
And boode til a baron, blessid be he euer,
(His name is y-nempnyd among þe .ix. ordres)
Sent a saufconduyt so þat I wolde
Maynteyne no matiere to amende myself,
Ne caicche no colour hit came of my wittes,
But [sende fro] a souurayn to shewe hit forth after.
This boldid me to bisynes to bringe hit to ende
Thorough grace of þis good lord þat gouuerneth al þing.
Thenne sought I forth seuenyght and slepte ful silde
And cessid on a Saterday til sunne roose a-morowe
And burnys and belles [bablid] to-gedre,
Momeling on þaire matyns and to þe masse after.
I satte in a siege my seruice to hire
Til þe prest in a pulpite began forto preche
The peuple to pees and þe peril of synne
And also toffre as ofte as þaym likid.
He taughte þaym by tyme þaire tithing to bringe
Of al manier grene þat groweth vppon erthe,
Of fructe and of floxe in felde and in homes,
Of polaille and of peris, of apples and of [plummes],
Of grapes and of garlik, of gees and of pigges,
Of chibollz and of chiries and of þaire chese eeke,
Herbaige and oygnons and alle suche þinges
That growen in þaire gardynes, lete God his parte haue,
Of hony in your hyves and of your hony-combes,
Of malte and of monaye and of all þat multiplieth,
Of wolle and of wexe and [what-]so yow increceth
Or newith yow, þe ix partie nymeth to your self,
And trewly þe tithing taketh hooly churche.
And euer I waitid whenne he wolde sum worde moeve
How hooly churche goodes shuld be y-spendid,
And declare þe deedes what þay do shulde
To haue suche a harueste and helpe not to erie.
But sorowe on þe sillable he shewed of þat matiere,
For Mvm was a meen and made hym to leue;
And as wery as I was yit was I wrothe eeke
With Mvm, for he made þe moppe so lewed
To leue men to lerne þe lawe sith he knewe hit.
Thenne ferkid I forth as faste as I mighte
Seuene yere sunnedayes and solempne festes,
Yf prest or prelat or prechour wolde
Sey sothe of hymself and serue þere-after
And teche how þe tithinge shuld trewly be departid.
But as wide as I wente was noon of þaym alle
Wolde moeve of þat matiere more noþer lasse.
And why þat þay wolde not wol ye gladly wite,
Thay haue a memoire of Mvm among alle other
Ys more in þaire mynde þenne martires of heuene
That token þe deeth for trouthe of tirantz handes.
But here a querele or a question quyk mighte þou make:
Martires had more might and more mynde eeke,
And couthe more on clergie þenne cunne now a thousand.
But þereto I answere as I am lerid:
Thou, lewed laudate, litel witte has.
Hit was for no cunnyng ne clergie noþer
That þay chosid þe deeth, but for derue loue
And kindenes to oure creatour þat creed vs alle,
And for pure trouthe þat þay taught [euer].
This made þaym martires more þanne ought elles,
For clercz were not knowe by þaire cloþing þat tyme,
Ne by royal raye ne riding aboute,
Ne by seruice of souuerayns, so me God helpe,
Ne by revel ne riot ne by rente nothir,
Ne by þaire double dees ne þaire deupe hoodes,
Ne by drynkyng of dollid wyne ne by datz at eue,
Ne by worldly workes of writtes ne seelyng,
Ne by no maniere nicete þat þay now vsen,
But by þe deedes þat þay dide, I do you to wite.
For I am but lewed and lettrid ful lite,
And yit me semeth þe sentence þat I shewe couthe
And teche how þe tithing shuld trewly be departid,
For in thre lynes hit [lith] and not oon lettre more.
Now hendely hireth how I begynne:
That ye clepe God-is parte lete God-is men haue hit,
Reseruyng for yourself sustenance for your foode,
And þe ouerplus ouer þat for ornementz of þe churche.
Though þis be shortly y-seide, yit so me God helpe,
Who-so had cunnyng and a clerc were,
Might make a long sermon of þees [lite] wordes;
And þough he toke to his theme “þe tresour is among þaym
And þe reuylle of þe royaulme and þe richesse bothe,”
He shuld not wende of þe waye two whete cornes.
For þay haue tollid so þe tithing þay han þe two dooles,
And been so vsid to ease erly and late
That þay cunne no crafte saue kepe þaym warme.
Thay bisien more for benefices þenne bibles to reede,
And been as worldly wise and wynners eeke
As man vppon molde, and asmuche louen
Mvm and þe monaye, by Marie of heuene,
For mayntenance and mede been þaire two mates.
“Yit wil þou melle more”, cothe Mvm, “þenne hit nedeth.
Be stille lest þou stumble, for þou stondes ful slidre,
And þou moeue any more suche maniere wordes.
Thay been not holsum for þy heed ne for þy herte noþer,
For þou mos holde with þe mo yf þou þy helthe willes;
And so I haue y-tolde þe twyes and oones.
Thou art mad of þy mynde, and amysse levis
That Mvm hath a maister þere men been of goode;
For Mvm maketh mo men at a moneth-ende
Thanne þe sothe-sigger in seuene score winter;
For he is priuy with þe pruttist and þere þe price caicchet,
[And] is y-drawe to þe deys with deyntees y-seruyd
Whenne þe sothe-sigger dar not be seye.
For and a matier be moeued at mete or at eue
Or in pryuy places þere peeris assemblen,
Mvm musith þere-on and maketh many cautelles
With a locke on his lippe and loketh aboute.
He spendith no speche but spices hit make,
Til he wite whitherward þat wil doo drawe.
But þenne he knittith a knotte and cometh al at ones
And getith hym a greet þanke to go among þe beste.
Fle fooly þerefore, and frendes þe make,
And a-rete, I þe rede, and rome no ferther,
For þou walkis of þe weye forto wynne siluer.
And carpe no more of clergie but yf þou cunne leepe,
For and þou come on þaire clouche, þou crepis not þens
Til þou wite right wel with whom þat þou mellys.”
“I-wis I wil not,” cothe I, “til I wite more;
For prestz been not perillous but pacient of þaire werkes,
And eeke þe plantz of pees and ful of pitie euer,
And chief of al charite y-chose a-fore other;
Forto fighte ne to flite hit falleth not to þaire ordre,
Ne to prece to no place þere peril shuld be ynne.
That proueth wel by parlement, for prelatz shuld be voidid
Whenne any dome of deeth shal be do þere,
Al for cause þaire conscience to kepe vn-y-wemmyd.
A man may saye þaym þe sothe sonest of alle,
Withoute grucche oþer groyn, but gete many þankes.
Thay moste bowe for þe beste, God forbede hit elles,
To shewe vs exemple of suffrance euer.”
“Yee, yit be ware of wiles and waite wel aboute,
For me semeth þat þy sight is sumdele a-dasid
And al myndelees”, cothe Mvm “and al amysse demys;
For þough þou shuldes þy-silf be a sothe-sigger,
Thou has no cleere conceypt to knowe alle þaire werkes.
And þat I pryved by a poynt þou perceipues neuer,
Al a-tw[art] þy intent and þy tale eeke,
For Pilat in þe Passion among al þe peuple
Wilned aftre watre to waisshe with his handes,
To shewe hym by þat signe, of þe bloode-sheding
Of Crist þat vs creed and on þe crosse deyed,
His conscience was clensid as clene as his handes.
Yit was he ground of þe grame and moste guilty eeke,
For euery man þat mynde hath may wel wite
That prelatz aughten haue pite when princz bee moeued,
And reede þaym so þat rancune roote not in hert,
And ere þe grame growe ferre þe ground so to wede
And amende þat were mysse ere any moore caicche
Of man-slaughter or mourdre, as hath many dayes.
For who hath knowlache of a cloude by cours of a-bouue,
And wil stande stille til þe storme falle,
And wende not of þe waye, þe wite is his owen.
Though hit heelde on his heede, who is to blame?
For who hath sight of a showre þat sharpely a-riseth,
And wil not caste hym to kepe with couryng abouue
Til hit droppe al a-dovne and dung-wete hym make,
And eeke falle on his frende, in feith as me þenketh,
He is auctor of al þe harme and þache
And so pryuy to þe peynes þat [his] peeres induren.
And also in cuntrey hit is a comune speche
And is y-write in Latyne, lerne hit who-so wil:
The reason is “qui tacet consentire videtur”.
And who-so hath in-sight of silde-couthe thingz,
Of synne or of shame or of shonde outher,
And luste not to lette hit, but leteth hit forth passe
As clercz doon construe þat knowen alle bokes,
He shal be demyd doer of þe same deede.
And eeke in lond-is lawe I lernyd by anothir:
Yf a freeke for felonye is frayned atte barre
For traison or for trespas and he a tunge haue
And wil not answere to þe deede he is of indited,
But stont stille as a stoone and no worde stire,
But he be deef or dum to deeth shal he wende,
As atteynt for þe trespas, and is a trewe lawe.
This cursid custume hath cumbrid vs alle;
The grucching[z] of grete þat shuld vs gouuerne
Han y-shourid sharpely þorough suffrance of clercz,
That lightly with labour y-lettid þay mighte,
The conseil of clergie yf þay had caste for hit.
For þere þe heede aketh alle þe lymes after
Pynen whenne þe principal is put to vnease
(Of sum and certayn, I saye not of alle,
But of þe same seurely þat suche maniere vsen.)”
“Now treuly,” cothe I, “þy talking me pleasith,
For þou has saide as sothe, so me God helpe,
As euer sage saide sith Crist was in erthe,
For þou has rubbid on þe rote of þe rede galle
And eeke y-serchid þe sore and sought alle þe woundz.
And yf þou woldes do wel wende to þaym alle
And telle þe same tale þat þou has tolde here;
Thou might be man made and mensshid for euer.”
“Nay, þere I leue þe, lucas, go loke [for] an othir;
For I wil wende no waie but wit go bifore,
Ne telle no tales for teryng of hodes,
So taughte me þe [truest] techer on erthe,
My maister and maker, Mvm þat I serue.
Go walke where þy wil is and waite wel aboute,
For þou has sought al a-side sith þou begunne
With clercz of Cambrigge and cathedralle churches.
Fare forth þerefore to finde þat þou sechis,
And come not with clergie leste þou a-croke walke,
But tourne now to tovnes and temporal lordz,
There prece is of peuple, and pray þaym to telle
Yf any sothe-sigger serue þaym long.”
Thenne waxe I woundre wrothe, as I wel might,
And drowe me to þe doreward and dwelled no lenger,
But romed forth reedelees, remembring ofte
That Mvm was suche a maister among men of good.
And as I lokid þe loigges along by þe streetz,
I sawe a sothe-sigger, in sothe as me þought,
Sitte in a shoppe and salwyn his woundes.
Thenne was I ful-come and knewe wel þe sothe
That Mvm vppon molde myrier life had
Thenne þe sothe-sigger, asay who-so wol;
But þe better barne to abide stille
And to lyve with a lord to his life-is ende
Ys þe sothe-sigger, a-say who-so wol.
Yit was I not þe wiser for waye þat I wente;
This made me al madde as I most nede,
And wel fleuble and faynt, and feulle to þe grounde,
And lay dovne on a lynche to lithe my boones,
Rolling in remembrance my rennyng aboute
And alle þe perillous patthes þat I passid had,
As priories and personagz and pluralites,
Abbayes of Augustyn and oþer hooly places,
To knightes courtz and crafty men many,
To mayers and maisters, men of high wittes,
And to þe felle freris, alle þe foure ordres,
And oþer hobbes a-heepe, as ye herde haue—
And nought þe neer by a note þis noyed me ofte
That þorough construyng of clercz þat knewe alle bokes
That Mvm shuld be maister moste vppon erthe.
And ere I were ware, a wynke me assailled,
That I slepte sadly seuene houres large.
Thenne mette I of mervailles mo þanne me luste
To telle or to talke of, til I se tyme;
But sum of þe silde-couthes I wol shewe here-after,
For dreme is no dwele by Danyel-is wordes,
Though Caton of þe contrarye carpe in his bokes.
Me þought I was in wildernesse walking al oon,
There bestes were and briddes and no barne elles,
Yn a cumbe cressing on a creste wise,
Al gras grene þat gladid my herte,
By a cliffe vn-y-knowe of Crist-is owen makyng.
I lepte forth lightly a-long by þe heigges
And movid forth myrily to maistrie þe hilles,
For til I came to þe coppe couthe I not stynte
Of þe highest hille by halfe [of] alle other.
I tournyd me twyes and totid aboute,
Beholding heigges and holtz so grene,
The mansions and medues mowen al newe,
For suche was þe saison of þe same yere.
I lifte vp my eye-ledes and lokid ferther
And sawe many swete sightz, so me God helpe,
The wodes and þe waters and þe welle-springes
And trees y-traylid fro toppe to þerthe,
Coriously y-courid with curtelle of grene,
The flours on feeldes flavryng swete,
The corne on þe croftes y-croppid ful faire,
The rennyng riuyere russhing faste,
Ful of fyssh and of frie of felefold kinde,
The breris with þaire beries bent ouer þe wayes
As honysoucles hongyng vppon eche half,
Chesteynes and chiries þat children desiren
Were loigged vndre leues ful lusty to seen.
The havthorne so holsum I beheulde eeke,
And hough þe benes blowid and þe brome-floures;
Peris and plummes and pesecoddes grene,
That ladies lusty loken muche after,
Were gadrid for gomes ere þay gunne ripe;
The grapes grovid a-grete in gardyns aboute,
And oþer fruytz felefold in feldes and closes;
To nempne alle þe names hit nedith not here.
The conyngz fro couert courid þe bankes
And raughte oute a raundon and retournyd agaynes,
Pleyed forth on þe playne, and to þe pitte after,
But any hovnd hente þaym or þe hay-nettes.
The hare hied hym faste and þe hovndes after;
For kisshyng of his croupe a-caunt-wise he wente,
For nad he tournyd twies his tail had be licked,
So ernestly Ector ycchid hym after.
The shepe fro þe sunne shadued þaymself,
While þe lambes laikid a-long by þe heigges.
The cow with hire calfe and coltes ful faire
And high hors in haras hurtelid to-gedre,
And preisid þe pasture þat prime-saute þaym made.
The dere on þe dale drowe to þaire dennes,
Ferkid forth to þe ferne and feulle dovne amyddes.
Hertz and hyndes, a hunthrid to-gedre,
With rayndeer and roobuc runne to þe wodes,
For þe kenettz on þe cleere were vn-y-couplid;
And buckes ful burnysshid þat baren good grece,
Foure hunthrid on a herde y-heedid ful faire,
Layen lowe in a launde a-long by þe pale,
A swete sight for souurayns, so me God helpe.
I moued dovne fro þe mote to þe midwardz
And so a-dovne to þe dale, dwelled I no longer,
But suche a noise of nestlingz ne so swete notz
I herde not þis halfe yere, ne so heuenely [sounes]
As I dide on þat dale adovne among þe heigges,
For in euery bussh was a brid þat in his beste wise
Bablid with his bile, þat blisse was to hire.
So [cheerly] þay chirmed and chaunged þaire notes,
That what for flauour of þe fruyte and of þe somer floures,
The smellyng smote as spices, me þought,
That of my trauail treuly toke I no kepe,
For al was vanesshid me fro þorough þe fresshe sightes.
Thenne lepte I forth lightly and lokid a-boute,
And I beheulde a faire hovs with halles and chambres,
A frankeleyn-is fre-holde al fresshe newe.
I bente me aboute and bode atte dore
Of þe gladdest gardyn þat gome euer had.
I haue no tyme treuly to telle alle þe names
Of ympes and herbes and oþer feele thinges
That growed on þat gardyn, þe grounde was so noble.
I passid ynne pryuely and pulled of þe fruytes
And romed þaleys rovnde al a-boute,
But so semely a sage as I sawe þere
I sawe not sothely sith I was bore,
An olde auncyen man of a hunthrid wintre,
Y-wedid in white cloþe and wisely y-made,
With hore heres on his heede more þanne half white,
A faire visaige and a vresse and vertuous to [sene].
His eyen were al ernest, eggid to noon ille,
With a broode besmet berde ballid a lite,
As comely a creature as euer kinde wrought.
He was sad of his semblant, softe of his speche,
Proporcioned at alle poyntes and pithy in his tyme,
And by his stature right stronge, and stalworth on his dayes.
He houed ouer a hyue, þe hony forto kepe
Fro dranes þat destrued hit and dide not elles;
He thraste þaym with his thumbe as þicke as þay come,
He lafte noon a-live for þaire lither taicches.
I wondrid on his workes as I wel might,
And euer I neyed hym nere as ney as me ought,
And halsid hym hendily as I had lernyd;
And he me grete agayne right in a goode wise,
And askid what I wolde and anone I tolde
My wil was to wite what man he were.
“I am gardyner of þis [garth],” cothe he, “þe grovnde is myn owen,
Forto digge and to delue and to do suche deedes
As longeth to þis leyȝttone þe lawe wol I doo,
And wrote vp þe wedes þat wyrwen my plantes;
And wormes þat worchen not but wasten my herbes,
I daisshe þaym to deeth and delue oute þaire dennes.
But þe dranes doon worste, deye mote þay alle;
Thay haunten þe hyue for hony þat is ynne,
And lurken and licken þe liquor þat is swete,
And trauelyn no twynte but taken of þe beste
Of þat þe bees bryngen fro blossomes and floures.
For of alle þe bestes þat breden vppon erthe
For qualite ne quantite, n[o] question, I trowe
The bee in his bisynes beste is allowed,
And prouyd in his propriete passing alle oþer,
And pretiest in his wirching to profite of þe peuple.”
“Swete sire,” sayde I in slepe as me thoughte,
“The propriete of bees I pray þat ye wolde
Declare with þaire deedes, and of þe drane eeke.”
“Blethely, burne, þy beede shal bee doo
Yf þou wil tende treuly my tale to þende.
The bee of alle bestz beste is y-gouuerned
Yn lowlynes and labour and in lawe eeke.
Thay haue a king by kinde þat þe coroune bereth,
Whom þay doo sue and serue as souurayn to þaym alle,
And obeyen to his biddyng, or elles þe boke lieth.
The highest hoole in þe hyue he holdeth hit hymself,
For þere þay setten hym in his see by hym-self oone,
And maken mansions by-nethe þat mervail hit is to knowe
The bilding of þe boures þat þe bees maken.
For þe curiousiste carpintier vndre [cope] of heuene
Couthe not caste þaire coples ne cuntrefete þare workes.
Thaire tymbre and þaire tile stones and al þat to þaym longeth,
Thay feycchen hit of floures in feldes and in croftes.
Thayr dwellingz been dyuyded, I do hit on þaire combes,
And many a queynt caue been cumpassid [wy]-þynne.
And eche a place hath a principal þat peesith al his quarter,
That reuleth þaym to reste and rise whenne hit nedith,
And alle þe principallz to þe prince ful prest þay been at nede,
To rere þaire retenue to righte alle þe fautes;
For þay knowen as kindely as clerc doeth his bokes
Wastours þat wyrchen not but wombes forto fille.
Thaire workes been right wondreful wite þou for sothe,
For sum, as þou sees þay shape þaym to þe feldes
To sovke oute þe swettenes of þe somer floures,
And sum abiden at home to bigge vp þe loigges,
And helpen to make hony of þat þay home bringen,
And doon oþer deedes þorough dome þat is among þaym;
And sum waiten þe wedre, þe wynde and þe skyes,
Yf hit be temperate tyme to trauaylle or to leue.
[Thay] eten alle at oones and neuer oon by hymsilf,
Thorough warnyng of þaire wa[r]thour leste waste were among þaym.
The bomelyng of þe bees, as Bartholomew vs telleth,
Thair noyse and þaire notz at eue and eeke at morowe,
Lyve hit wel, þair lyden[e] þe leste of þaym hit knoweth.
The moste merciful among þaym and meukest of his deedes
Ys king of bees comunely, as clergie vs telleth,
And sperelees, and in wil to spare þat been hym vnder,
Or yf he haue oon, he harmeth ne hurteth noon in sothe.
For venym doeth not folowe hym but vertue in alle workes,
To reule þaym by reason and by right-ful domes,
Thorough contente of þe cumpaignie þat closeth alle in oone.
And yf þe king coueite þe colours to be-holde
Of þe fressh floures þat on þe feldes growen,
Euermore a-myddes as maister of þaym alle
His place is y-properid for peril þat mighte falle;
And yf he fleuble or feynte or funder dovneward,
The bees wollen bere hym til he be better amended.
But of þe drane[s] is al þe doute, þe deueil [þaym] quelle,
For in þaire wide wombes þay wol hide more
Thenne twenty bees and trauaillen not no tyme of þe day,
But gaderyn al to þe gutte and growen grete and fatte
And fillen þaire bagges brede-ful of þat þe bees wyrchen.
But hire hough þay ende with al þaire hole cropping:
Whenne þay haue soope þe swete þe soure cometh aftre,
For whenne þe bee-is bisynes is bribed fro þe hyve
Thorough dranes þat deceipuen þaym and doon no þing elles,
Thenne seen þe bees þair subtilite and seruen þaym þere-after
As Bartholomew þe Bestiary bablith on his bokes,
And of other pryvy poyntz but I wol passe ouer.”
“By þis skile,” cothe I, “þere shuld scant hony
Yf euery hyve hurle þus and haue suche a ende.”
“Be certayne,” he seide, “þat is a sothe tale
But yf þe gardyner haue grace and gouuerne hym þe bettre
And wisely a-waite whenne dranes furste entren,
And nape thaym on þe nolle ere þay þaire neste caicche;
For been þay oones ynned his eyen shal be dasid
Fro al kinde knowlache, so couert þaym helpeth.”
“Yit wolde I wite ” cothe I, “yf your wil be,
Hough to knowe kindely, þorough craft of your scole,
The drane þat deuoureth þat deue is to other,
By colour or by cursidnesse or crie þat he maketh.
Kenneth me þe cunnyng, þat I may knowe after.”
“Thay been long and lene,” cothe he “and of a lither hue,
And as bare as a bord, and bringen nought with þaym;
But haue þay hauntid þe hyve half yere to þende,
Thay growen vnder gurdel gretter þan other,
And noon so sharpe to stinge ne so sterne noþer.”
“Yit I mervaille,” cothe I, “and so mowen other,
Why þe bees wollen not wirwe þaym by tyme,
And falle on þaym fersly furst whanne þay entre,
For so shuld þay saue þaym-silf and þaire goodes.”
“The bees been so bisi,” cothe he, “aboute comune profit,
And tendeth al to trauail while þe tyme dureth
Of þe somer saison and of þe swete floures;
Thayr wittes been in wirching and in no wile elles
Forto waite any waste til winter approche,
That licour þaym lacke þair lyfe to susteyne.
But as sone as þay see þaire swynke is y-stole,
Thenne flocken þay to fighte þair fautes to amende,
And quellen þe dranes quicly and quiten alle þaire wrongz.”
“Now wol mote ye worthe”, cothe I, “for your wise tale,
For hit hath muche menyng who-so muse couthe,
But hit is to mistike for me, by Marie of heuene,
So wol I leue lightly withoute long tale.
But and ye dwelle, as I dar, derue I you preye
Oone question to construe þat I come fore;
For I haue soughte seuene yere and sum dele more,
And mette I neuer man yit þat me wise couthe
Cleere to my knowing, clerc noþer lewed,
Of þe matiere of Mvm þat moste me angrith,
That he shuld haue maisters mor þan oon hunthrid,
Whenne þe sothe-sigger shuld siche his mete.
I haue trauailled tenne yere to temporal estatz,
And spied of spirituel and sparid for no wreth
Forto wite witterly who shuld haue
The maistry, Mvm or þe sothe-sigger.
For alle þe foure ordres agayne þaire fundacion
Prouyd hit ofte by prechement, for peril þat myght falle,
That Mvm shuld be maister and maynteyne þordre;
And alle oþer estatz euery after other
Heulden muche more with Mvm þenne with þe sothe-sigger.
And yf ye deme as þay doon, by dere God in heuene,
By no witte þat I wote I wol go no ferther
Forto seke shadue þere no sunne apperith.”
“Swete soon, þy seching,” seide þe freke þenne,
“And þy trauail for þy trouthe shal tourne þe to profit,
For I wol go as nygh þe grounde as gospel vs techeth
Forto wise þe wisely to þy waie-is ende.
For [of] al þe mischief and mysse-reule þat in þe royaulme groweth
Mvm hath be maker alle þees many yeres,
And eek more and moulde, I may wel aduowe;
And principally by parlement to proue hit I þenke,
When knightz for þe comune been come for þat deede,
And semblid forto shewe þe sores of þe royaulme
And spare no speche þough þay spille shuld,
But berste oute alle þe boicches and blaynes of þe hert
And lete þe rancune renne oute a-russhe al at oones
Leste þe fals felon festre with-ynne;
For as I herde haue, þay helen wel þe rather
Whenne þanger and þattre is al oute y-renne,
For better were to breste oute þere bote might falle
Thenne rise agayne regalie and þe royaulme trouble.
The voiding of þis vertue doeth venym forto growe
And sores to be saluelees in many sundry places
Sith souurayns and þe shire-men þe sothe haue eschewed
Yn place þat is proprid to parle for þe royaulme
And fable of þoo fautes and founde þaym to amende.
For alle þe perillous poyntz of prelatz and of other,
As peres þat haue pouaire to pulle and to leue,
Thay wollen not parle of þoo poyntz for peril þat might falle,
But hiden alle þe heuynes and halten echone
And maken Mvm þaire messaigier þaire mote to determyne,
And bringen home a bagge ful of boicches vn-y-curid,
That nedis most by nature ennoye þaym þere-after.
And in al þe king-is court þere coiphes been and oþer
Mvm is maister þere more þenne men wenen,
For sum of þo segges wolle siche side-wayes,
Whenne þay witen wel y-now where þe hare walketh,
Thay leden men þe long waye and loue-dayes breken
And maken moppes wel myry with þaire madde tales,
Forto sowe siluer seede and solue ere þay singe,
To haue ynne þaire harueste while þe hete dureth.
Now feithfully, my ful frende, I wol not feyne to þe;
There is no wronge on þis world wrought, as I wene,
Treason noþer trespas ne trouble þat falleth,
Felonye ne falshede ne no faute elles,
Rancune ne riotte ne reuyng of peuple,
Courshidnes ne cumbrance ne no caste of guile,
That Mvm nys þe maker and moste cause eeke.
And þat shal I shewe þe by exemples y-nowe;
For Lucifer þe lyer þat lurketh aboute
Forto gete hym a grounde þat he may graffe on
And to sowe of his seede suche as he vsith,
That groweth al to grevance and gurdyng of heedes,
He leyeth his lynes along þat luste may be clepid
Of oure foule flessh þat foundrith ful ofte,
And of gloire of þis grounde his griefz been y-made,
That who be hent in his hoke he shal be holde faste
Til he [be] caste with couetise or sum croke elles.
Thenne fareth he forth felaship to gete,
To holde his opinion ouer alle þingz.
Whenne he is laught on þe lyne he can not lepe þens,
So þe cursid couetise cleueth on his herte,
Or elles dreede forto do wel dulleth his wittz.
But seche what he seche wol and asaye eeke,
There is no sothe-sigger þat wol assent to hym,
But conseilleth hym [þe] contrary and construeth þe doutes
And poynteth hym þe perillz and pleynely telleth
As a sicour seruant, and sheweth hym þe happes.
He shoneth for no salaire ne soulde þat he fangeth,
Ne [for no] likerous lyuelode ne loising of his office,
That he ne telleth þe tirant how hit tourne wol
Hamward by his hows and harme most hymself.
Thenne fleeth he fro his frend and to his foo tourneth,
For til he mete with Mvm may he neuer reste.
He wol abide with no burne þat botene hym wolde
Ne a-rayne hym arere with reason-is bridel,
So loueth he go large to lepe where hym liketh,
And kiketh faste as a colte þat casteth downe hymsilf,
And fondeth forto finde þis freeke I haue nempnyd,
That fayne is to folowe hym for fees and robes.
Thenne meteth he with Mvm and his matiere sheweth,
That shortly assentith as a shrewed hyne,
And spareth for no spurnyng, but spedith þe matiere,
And wircheth vp with wiles a walle of deceiptes,
Til þe fals fundement falle atte laste,
That þay stumblen after stroutyng and stappen no ferther,
But lyen dovne on þe diche as wel nygh y-doluen,
Bothe þe maister and his man y-murid at oones.
Suche maniere medes Mvm can deserue
Forto mende his maister for meete and for hure,
But by þe feith þat I finge atte vantstone
Shal no Mvm be my man and I may a-spie,
And namely nygh me but next shal he neuer.
And þerefore I fende þe, by feith þat þou aues,
That þou lieue in no lore of suche lewed gomes
That fikelly fablen and fals been withynne,
But sue þe sothe-sigger and seche þou no ferther.
And þough hit tene for a tyme hit tideth wel after,
And he þat made þe molde and man with his handes
Shal quite þe with a quitance whenne querellz been vp
Of þis newe nouellerie þat noyeth men ofte.
Hit is þe holsemyst hyne for halle and for chambre
To bringe boldely a-bedde þe best of þe royaulme
And arise with þe renke, rehershing agaynes
Salomon and Seneca and Sidrac þe noble.
Hit is a sicour seruant forto serue lordes,
And to knightz of þe cuntre his conseil availleth;
And [thow] he dwelle with a duc and dide not elles
But forto seye hym þe sothe in [seasonable] tymes,
He might serue sum day seuene yeres wages.”
“Grand mercy, gardiner,” cothe I, “and God þe foryelde,
For þou has demed deuely þe doute I was ynne;
But yit wote I not in sothe, ne am not infourmed
How to come to þe court þere þe kempe dwellith.”
“His dwellyng to discryue,” cothe he, “I do hit on alle clercz
That I shal teche [þe] treuly þe tournyng to his place.
Yn man-is herte his hovsing is, as hooly writte techet,
And mynde is his mansion þat made alle þestres.
There feoffed hym his fadre freely forto dwelle,
And put hym in possession in paradise terrestre
Yn Adam oure auncetre and al his issue after.
He spirith hym with his spirite þat sprange of hymself
To holde þat habitacion and heuene afterwardes,
To serue hym in sothenes and no souurayn eschewe
For dreede of deyeng ne no disease elles.
As wold God þat eche gome þat gre hath take in scoles
Wolde holde þat opinion and ouer-lepe hit neuer,
For hit was neuer so nedeful as now sith Noe-is dayes.
But Mvm wol be no martir while mytres been in sale,
And but þe sothe-sigger sey þe same wordes
Whenne þou comys to his court, kutte of myn eres.
Now I haue y-wised þe þe weye to his place,
Hye þe hens to his hows and hippe euene amyddes;
For þough his loigge be lite hit is vnloke euer,
That þou mays intre eche day boþe erly and late,
Forto walke where þou wolt wythynne and withoute
And to moeue of his mote in mesurable tyme
And haue concours to Criste and come yn agaynes.
For þay been brethern by baptesme, as þe boke telleth,
And [he] is y-sibbe to þe [sire] abouue þe seuene sterres,
For trouthe and þe trinite been two nygh frendes.
Yf þou wol folowe þis fode, þou mos be faire of speche
And soft of þy sawys, but souuraynete hit helpe;
For pouerte hath a pressonere whenne he doeth passe bondes.
And be wel ware of wiles þe world is ful of mases;
And loke wel a-leehalf lest þou be beguilid,
For Mvm hath a man þere [þat] is a muche shrewe,
Antecrist-is angel þat eche day vs ennoyeth.
He dwellith faste by þe dore and droppeth many wiles
Yf he might wynne ouer þe walle with a wron
He debateth eche day with Do-welle withynne,
And þe maistrie among and þe mote wynneth,
And shoueth þe sothe-sigger into a syde-herne,
And taketh couetise þe keye to come ynne when hym liketh.
Thenne dreede with a dore-barre dryueth oute þe beste,
And maketh þe sothe-sigger seche a newe place,
And to walke where he wol withoute on þe grene
Til sorowe for his synnes seese hym agaynes
And þe tenaunt a-tourne to treuthe al his life.
Though þou slepe now, my soon yit whenne þou seis tyme,
Loke þou write wisely my wordes echone;
Hit wol be exemple to sum men seuene yere here-after.
And loke þou seye euer sothe but shame not þy brother,
For yf þou telle hym trouthe in tirant-is wise,
He wol rather wexe wrother þenne forto wirche after.
But in a muke maniere þou mos hym asaye,
And not eche day to egge hym, but in a deue tyme.
Do þus, my dere soon, for I may dwelle no longer,
But fare to my good frend þat I fro come.
I haue infourmed þe faire loke þou folowe after
And make vp þy matiere, þou mays do no better.
Hit may amende many men of þaire misdeedes.
Sith þou felys þe fressh lete no feynt herte
Abate þy blessid bisynes of þy boke-making
Til hit be complete to clapsyng, caste aweye doutes
And lete þe sentence be sothe, and sue to þende;
And furst feoffe þou þerewith þe freyst of þe royaulme,
For yf þy lord liege allone hit begynne,
Care þou not þough knyghtz copie hit echone,
And do write eche word and wirche þere-after.”
There is a raggeman rolle þat Ragenelle hymself
Hath made of mayntennance and motyng of þe peuple,
Hough þay sheue at sises and sessions aboute,
And halen so þe hockerope oon halfe agayne oþer
Til þe strong[est] steriers and styuest on þe heedes
Haue haled þe howslord oute atte halle-dore.
Strifen so and streicchen streight adovne þe poure.
Gold and good þaym glewith so þay wol not go a-sundre
[Til þay haue] drawen hym clene fro his dees he dysneth þere nomore.
This same cursid custume þe coroune doeth a-peyre
And bringeth a bitter byworde a-brode among þe peuple,
And is in euery cuntre but a comune tale
That yf þe pouer playne, þough he plede euer
And hurleth with his higher hit happeth ofte-tyme
That he wircheth al in waste and wynneth but a lite.
Thus laboreth þe loos among þe comune peuple
That þe wacker in þe writte wol haue þe wors ende;
Hit wol not gayne a goky a grete man forto plede,
For lawe lieth muche in lordship sith loyaute was exiled,
And poure men pleyntes penylees a-bateth.
But Dauid demed not so, I do hit on his bokes.
Yit is þere a forelle þat I forgate þat frayed is a lite,
How þe [fleuble] fareth þat folowed bee in shires
Whenne þay griefen greete, þough þe guilte be lite.
And he haue any hors or elles hedid bestes,
He shal be hourled so in high courte and holde so agogge
That hym were bettre lose his lande þenne long so be toylid;
Suche crokes been y-courid and coloured vnder lawe,
To strue a man with [strength] þe status been so made.
For þough men pleede and poursuye and in þaire playntz falle
And newe þaym aftre nonsuyte[s] nynetene hunthred,
Withoute grovnde or guilte but forto gete a bribe,
Yit shal þay haue no harme þough þay hurle euer.
But shuld þay picche and paye at eche pleynte-is ende
And compte alle þe costz of men of court and elles,
And taske al þe trespas as trouthe wolde and reason,
Thay wolde cesse sum tyme for sheding of þaire siluer.
I seye aswel of simple men þat suen ayenst grete,
And of þe poure proute þat peyren ofte þaire better,
That causelees accusen þaym to king and to þe lordz,
As I doo of ducz þat suche deedes vsen;
For lordz and laborers been not like in costes.
Hit wold pese þe peuple and many pleyntes bate
And chaunge al þe chauncellerie and cheuallerie amende
And ease be to euery man þat been of euene states,
And solas be to souurayns and to þaire seruantz alle,
And a miracle to meen men þat mote lite cunne,
Were þis oon yere y-vsid as I haue declarid,—
That of euery writte withoute wronge þere were amendes made,
And paye for alle þe costes at euery pleynte-is ende,
And tolle for þe trespas as trouthe wolde and reason—
The lawe wold like vs wel, and euer þe lenger þe bettre.
But pouaire of prerogatife þat poynt hath reseruyd
That euery fode haue fredome to folowe vn-y-punysshid.
But ciuile seith vs not so þat serueth for al peuple
That habiteth vndre heuene hethen men and oþer.
And Crist-is lawe-is y-canonized canon, yf þou loke,
And eeke þe glorious gospelle grovnde of alle lawes,
Techeth vs a trewe texte þat toucheth þis ilke matiere;
For in my conscience ne in my credo yit couthe I neuer vele
But þat oure lawe leneth þere a lite, as me þenketh.
There is a librarie of lordes þat losen ofte þaym-self
Thorough lickyng of þe lordship þat to þe coroune longeth,
And weneth hit be wel y-do but wors dide þay neuer
Thenne sith þay gunne þat game, I grovnde me on reason.
For euery wighte wote wel but yf his witte faille,
That hit is holsum forto haue a heede of vs alle,
That is a king y-corouned to kepe vs vnder lawe,
To put vs into prisone whenne we passe boundes.
For but we had a souurayn to sette vs into reste,
Thees rechelees renkes wolde renne on eche oþer.
Thenne of fyne fors hit foloweth, as me þenketh,
That a certayne substance shuld be ordeynid
To susteyne þis souurayn þat shuld vs gouerne.
And so I wote wel hit was atte furst tyme,
But now hit is bynome hym þolde and þe newe,
Not-wi[th]standing statutz ful strattely y-made
To stable many statutz and strong lawes make.
But execucion falle what may hit availle
Ne more þenne þe mose may or þe maij floures
To breke dovne bastiles þat beste is y-made.
Hit is as dede as a dore nayle, þough þe dome come after,
Withoute execucion þees wise men hit knoweth.
Thees knightz of þe conseil þat nygh þe king dwellen,
And eeke lordz y-lettred of oone lawe and oþer,
Forto kepe his coroune fro couetous peuple,
Han pulled þaym-self þe peres right to þe [pure] stalke,
And lickid so þe leves he hath þe leste dele,
For þay holden of his honour halfendele and more.
This was grovnde and bigynnyng of gurdyng of heedes,
And eeke more [of] mourdre and many-folde wronges
That han y-falle for foly withynne þees fourty wintre.
For þegre enuye þat eche had to oþer
Dide þaym preece to be pryvy and put aweye þe beste,
But muche more for þe mede to make þaym-self riche
Thenne to cunseille þe king of þe comune [wele],
Or for any deue dome or defence of þe royaulm[e]
This same cursid custume oure coroune hath a-p[ayred],
And cause is most þat comunes collectours haten,
For nedis moste oure liege lord like his estat
Haue for his houshold and for his [haynous werres]
To maynteyne his manhoode þere may no man seye o[þer],
But of his owen were þe beste, who-so couthe hit bringg[e];
To lyve vppon his laboriers, hit may not long indure.
Whenne hit is haled al awey þenne is wo þe nexte
To you þat shullen siluer to solue þenne were tyme.
For trusteth right treuly, talke what men likeþ,
And wendith and trendith twys in oon wike,
And clepith to your cunseil copes and other,
And pleyne atte parlement, but yf þe deede prouue
That þe coroune in his kinde come ynne agaynes,
Clene in his cumpas with croppes and braunches,
Lite and a lite, right as þe lawe asketh,
Wel mowe we wilne and wisshe what vs liketh
And eeke waite after welthe but as my witte demeth,
Oure wynnyng and worship wol be þe lasse
With knight and with comune til þe king haue
Alle hoole in his hande þat he haue oughte.
There is a copie of couetise, how conscience is revled
Whenne he [hath] gadrid a greete bagge and good at his wil,
And wrongfully y-wonne hit þorough wiles of his hert,
And is y-runne in riches þorough ryfling of þe peuple,
He maketh maisons deu þerewith whenne he may live [no len]ger;
But while he had power of þe penyes þe poure had but lite.
Hit is a high holynes and grete helth to þe soule,
A man to lyue in lustes alle his life-dayes
And haue no pitie on þe poure, ne parte with þaym nother,
But holde hit euer in his hande til þe herte breke.
But þenne he shapeth for þe soule whenne þe sunne is dovne,
But while þe day durid he delte but a lite;
Now muche moste his merite be þat mendeth so þe poure,
That gifeth his goode for God-is sake whenne his goste is pass[ed].
There is a [title] of testament[z] þat I tolde neuer,
How pryuyly þay been provid and y-put a-side,
For so þe siluer be y-soluid for þe seel of þoffice
And þe feis alle y-funge þay folden þaym to-gedre
And casten þaym in a coffre leste þay copied were,
And sith þay seure þaym by þaymself and seyen þees [wordes]:
“Hit is no wisedame forto wake Warrok while he sl[epeth]”
For þough a quynzieme were y-quethe oon quita[nce shal be geven]
Though executours after-warde execute hit neu[er],
[Ne do noght for] þe dede as I do whenne I slepe.
[And yit] þay seyen for þaymsilf right a subtile reason:
“[Why sh]uld we dele for þe dede? He dide not while he mighte.
[He] made vs in his mynde among alle his frendes
[T]o be his trewe attourneys and treete for his debtes,
[F]or so þat þay haue halfendele þay mowe þaym holde content.
[Y]it wol not þe good go so ferre so mote we grovnde oure tale,
For I wol seye for myself seye þou whenne þe liketh,
Yf we do as he dude, may no man deme vs yuel,
Ne rightfully by reason reproue vs here-after.
He was boþe ware and wise while he was on live,
And me lust not be lewed leste I fare þe wors.
His custume was to kepe his good so lete vs kepe hit eeke,
And þenne after oure deeth day lete dele for vs alle,
For oure executours aftre vs shal haue þe same charge.”
Thus þay chiden with charite and chacheth eche other,
That til þe day of dome þe dele is not parfourmid.
Yit is þere a poynt of prophecie how þe peuple construeth
And museth on þe meruailles þat Merlyn dide deuyse,
And redith as right as þe Ram is hornyd,
As helpe me þe high God, I holde þaym halfe a-masid.
For þere nys wight in þis world þat wote bifore eue
How þe winde and þe wedre wol wirche on þe morowe,
Ne noon so cunnyng a clerc þat construe wel couthe
Ere sunneday a seuenyght what shal falle.
Thus þay muse on þe mase on mone and on sterres
Til heedes been hewe of and hoppe on þe grene,
And al þe wide world wondre on þaire workes.
Yit sawe I þere a cedule soutelly indited
With tuly silke intachid right atte rolle-is ende,
Y-write ful of wordes of woundres þat han falle,
And fele-folde ferlees wythynne þees fewe yeris,
By cause þat þe clergie and knighthoode to-gedre
Been not knytte in conscience as Crist dide þaym stable.
For who so loketh on þe lawe may lerne, yf hym like,
Thayre ordre and office and how þay [ought] wyrche.
For þay folowe no foote of þaire forne-fadres,
I do hit on þaire deeth-day, and deme no ferther,
For seurly sumtyme I sawe hit not late
Yn cronicle of clercz and kingz lygnees
[H]ow prelatz of prouinces pride moste hatid
[For] þe theme þat þay taughte was tachid on þaire hertz.
[Thay] preched þe peuple and prouyd hit þaymself
[And w]ere lanternes to lewed men to lyve þaym after.
[Thay p]ourchachid no prelacies with prince noþer elles
[Thorough pr]eyer ne povndes but þorough proufe of þayre workes.