Conscience cam and acusede hem

Conscience cam and acusede hem, And the commune herde hit, And seide, "Ydolatrie ye soffren In sondrye places menye, And boxes ben y-set forth Bounden with yren, To undertake the tool Of untrewe sacrifice, In menynge of miracles Muche wex hongeth there, Al the worldle wot wel Hit myghte nat be trywe. Ac for it profitith yow to pors-warde, Ye prelates soffren That lewede men in mysbylyve Leven and deien. Ich lyve wel, by oure Lorde! For love of youre covetyse, That al the worlde be the wors; As holy wryght telleth What cheste and meschaunce To children of Israel Ful on hem that free were, Thorwe two false preestes. For the synne of Ophni And of Finees hus brother, Thei were disconfit in bataille, And losten Archa Dei, And fore hure syre sauh hem syngen, And aoffred hem don ylle, And noght chasted hem therof, And wolde noght rebukie hem, Anon as it was y-told hyme That the children of Israel Weren disconfit in bataille, And Archa Dei y-lore, And hus sones slayen, Anon he ful for sorwe Fro hus chaire thare he sat, And brak hus necke a-tweyne; And al was for venjaunce That he but noght hus children. And for they were preestes, And men of holy churche, God was well wrother, And toke the rather venjaunce. For-thei ich seye, ye preestes, And men of holy churche, That soffren men do sacrifice And worsheppen mawmettes, And ye sholde be here fadres, And techen hem betere; God shal take venjaunce In alle swiche preestes Wel harder and grettere, On suche shrewede faderes, Than ever he dude on Ophni And Finees, or in here fadere. For youre shrewede suffraunce, And youre owen synne, Youre masse and youre matynes, And meny of youre houres, etc.