Passus Decimus de Visione, et Secundus de Do-wel

Thanne hadde Wit a wif, Was hote dame Studie, That lene was of lere, And of liche bothe; She was wonderly wroth That Wit me thus taughte; And al starynge dame Studie Sterneliche loked.

"Wel artow wis," quod she to Wit, "Any wisdomes to telle To flatereres or to fooles, That frenetike ben of wittes." And blamed hym and banned hym, And bad hym be stille, With swiche wise wordes To wissen any sottes. And seide, "Noli mittere, man, Margery perles Among hogges, that han Hawes at wille; Thei doon but dryvele theron, Draf were hem levere Than al the precious perree That in paradis wexeth.

I seye it by swiche," quod she, "That sheweth by hir werkes, That hem were levere lond And lordshipe on erthe, Or richesse, or rentes, And reste at hir wille, Than alle the sooth sawes That Salomon seide evere.

"Wisdom and wit now Is noght worth a kerse, But if it be carded with coveitise, As clotheres kemben hir wolle. Who so can contreve deceites And conspire wronges, And lede forth a love-day To lette with truthe, He that swiche craftes can To counseil is cleped. Thei lede lordes with lesynges, And bi-lieth Truthe.

"Job the gentile In his gestes witnesseth, That wikked men thei welden The welthe of this worlde; And that thei ben lordes of ech a lond That out of lawe libbeth. Quare impii vivunt, bene est omnibus qui prævaricantur et inique agunt.

"The Sauter seith the same By swiche that doon ille: Ecce ipsi peccatores abundantes in sæculo obtinuerunt divitias.

"Lo! seith holy lettrure,

Whiche beth thise sherewes? Thilke that God gyveth moost, Leest good thei deleth; And moost un-kynde to the commune That moost catel weldeth. Quæ perfecisti destruxerunt, justus autem, etc.

"Harlotes for hir harlotrie May have of hir goodes, And japeris and jogelours, And jangleris of gestes.

"Ac he that hath holy writ Ay in his mouthe, And kan telle of Tobye, And of twelve apostles, Or prechen of the penaunce That Pilat wikkedly wroghte To Jhesu the gentile, That Jewes to-drowe; Litel is he loved That swich a lesson sheweth, Or daunted or drawe forth, I do it on God hymselve.

"But thoo that feynen hem foolis, And with faityng libbeth, Ayein the lawe of oure Lord, And lyen on hemselve, Spitten and spuen, And speke foule wordes, Drynken and drevelen, And do men fer to gape, Likne men, and lye on hem, That leneth hem no giftes; Thei konne na-moore mynstralcie

Ne musik men to glade, Than Munde the millere Of Multa fecit Deus. Ne were hir vile harlotrye, Have God my trouthe! Sholde nevere kyng ne knyght, Ne chanon of seint Poules, Gyve hem to hir yeres-gyve The gifte of a grote.

"Ac murthe and mynstralcie Amonges men is nouthe Lecherie, losengerye, And losels tales, Glotonye and grete othes, This murthe thei lovyeth.

"Ac if thei carpen of Crist, Thise clerkes and thise lewed At mete in hir murthe, Whan mynstrals beth stille, Thanne telleth thei of the Trinité A tale outher tweye, And bryngen forth a balled reson, And taken Bernard to witnesse, And putten forth a presumpcion To preve the sothe. Thus thei dryvele at hir deys The Deitee to knowe, And gnawen God with the gorge, Whanne hir guttes fullen.

"Ac the carefulle may crie And carpen at the yate, Bothe a-fyngred and a-furst, And for chele quake; Is ther noon to nyme hym neer,

His anoy to amende, But hunten hym as an hound, And hoten hym go thennes. Litel loveth he that Lord That lent hym al that blisse, That thus parteth with the povere A percell whan hym nedeth. Ne were mercy in meene men Moore than in riche, Mendinauntz mete-lees Myghte go to bedde. God is muche in the gorge Of thise grete maistres, Ac amonges meene men His mercy and hise werkes. And so seith the Sauter, I have seighen it ofte: Ecce audivimus eam in Effrata, invenimus eam in campis silvæ.

"Clerkes and othere kynnes men Carpen of God faste, And have hym muche in the mouth; Ac meene men in herte.

"Freres and faitours Han founde swiche questions, To plese with proude men, Syn the pestilence tyme; And prechen at seint Poules For pure envye of clerkes; That folk is noght fermed in the feith, Ne free of hire goodes, Ne sory for hire synnes; So is pride woxen, In religion and in al the reme,

Amonges riche and povere, That preieres have no power The pestilence to lette. And yet the wrecches of this world Is noon y-war by oother; Ne for drede of the deeth With-drawe noght hir pride; Ne beth plentevouse to the povere, As pure charité wolde; But in gaynesse and in glotonye For-glutten hir good hemselve, And breketh noght to the beggere As the Book techeth: Frange esurienti panem tuum, etc. And the moore he wynneth and welt Welthes and richesse, And lordeth in londes, The lasse good he deleth.

"Tobye telleth yow noght so, Taketh hede, ye riche, How the book Bible Of hym bereth witnesse. Si tibi sit copia, abundanter tribue. Si autem exiguum, illud impertiri stude libenter.

"Who so hath muche, spende manliche, So seith Tobye; And who so litel weldeth, Rule hym therafter. For we have no lettre of oure lif, How longe it shal dure, Swiche lessons lordes sholde Lovye to here, And how he myghte moost meynee

Manliche fynde.

"Nought to fare as a fithelere or a frere, For to seke festes Homliche at othere mennes houses, And hatien hir owene. Elenge is the halle Ech day in the wike, Ther the lord ne the lady Liketh noght to sitte. Now hath ech riche a rule To eten by hymselve In a pryvee parlour, For povere mennes sake, Or in a chambre with a chymenee, And leve the chief halle That was maad for meles, Men to eten inne, And al to spare to spende That spille shal another.

"I have y-herd heighe men, Etynge at the table, Carpen, as thei clerkes were, Of Crist, and of hise myghtes; And leyden fautes upon the fader That formede us alle, And carpen ayein clerkes Crabbede wordes, Why wolde oure Saveour suffre Swich a worm in his blisse, That bigiled the womman, And the man after, Thorugh whiche wiles and wordes Thei wente to helle, And al hir seed for hir synne

The same deeth suffrede.

"Here lyeth youre lore, Thise lordes gynneth dispute, Of that the clerkes us kenneth Of Crist by the Gospel: Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris, etc.

"Why sholde we that now ben, For the werkes of Adam, Roten and to-rende? Reson wolde it nevere. Unusquisque portabit onus suum, etc.

"Swiche motyves thei mene, Thise maistres in hir glorie, And maken men in mys-bileve That muse muche on hire wordes, Ymaginatif herafterwarde Shal answere to hir purpos.

"Austyn to swiche argueres Telleth this teme: Non plus sapere quam oportet.

"Wilneth nevere to wite Why that God wolde Suffre Sathan His seed to bigile; Ac bileveth lelly In the loore of holy chirche, And preie hym of pardon And penaunce in thi lyve, And for his muche mercy To amende yow here. For alle that wilneth to wite The weyes of God almyghty, I wolde his eighe were in his ers,

And his fynger after, That evere wilneth to wite Why that God wolde Suffre Sathan His seed to bigile, Or Judas to the Jewes Jhesu bitraye. Al was as thow woldest, Lord, y-worshiped be the! And al worth as thow wolt, What so we dispute.

"And tho that useth thise hanylons To blende mennes wittes, What is Do-wel fro Do-bet, That deef mote he worthe, Siththe he wilneth to wite Whiche thei ben bothe, But if he lyve in the lif That longeth to Do-wel. For I dar ben his bolde borgh, That do-bet wole he nevere, Theigh Do-best drawe on hym Day after oother."

And whan that Wit was y-war What dame Studie tolde, He bicom so confus, He kouthe noght loke, And as doumb as deeth, And drough hym arere; And for no carpyng I kouthe after, Ne knelyng to the grounde, I myghte gete no greyn Of his grete wittes. But al laughynge he louted,

And loked upon Studie In signe that I sholde Bi-sechen hire of grace.

And whan I was war of his wille, To his wif gan I loute, And seide, "Mercy, madame, Youre man shal I worthe As longe as I lyve, Bothe late and rathe, For to werche youre wille The while my lif dureth, With that ye kenne me kyndely To knowe what is Do-wel."

"For thi mekenesse, man," quod she, "And for thi mylde speche, I shal kenne thee to my cosyn That Clergie is hoten. He hath wedded a wif Withinne thise sixe monthes, Is sib to seven artz, Scripture is hir name. They two, as I hope, After my techyng, Shullen wissen thee to Do-wel, I dar it undertake."

Thanne was I al so fayn, As fowel of fair morwe, And gladder than the gle-man That gold hath to gifte; And asked hire the heighe wey Where that Clergie dwelte, "And tel me som tokene," quod I, "For tyme is that I wende."

"Aske the heighe wey," quod she,

"Hennes to Suffre- Both-wele-and-wo, If that thow wolt lerne, And ryd forth by Richesse, Ac rest thow noght therinne; For if thow couplest thee therwith, To Clergie comestow nevere.

"And also the likerouse launde That Lecherie hatte, Leve it on thi left half A large myle or moore, Til thow come to a court, Kepe-wel-thi-tunge- Fro-lesynges-and-lither-speche- And-likerouse-drynkes.

"Thanne shaltow se Sobretee, And Sympletee-of-speche, That ech wight be in wille His wit thee to shewe; And thus shaltow come to Clergie, That kan manye thynges.

"Seye hym this signe, I sette hym to scole, And that I grete wel his wif, For I wroot hire manye bokes, And sette hire to Sapience, And to the Sauter glose; Logyk I lerned hire, And manye othere lawes, And alle musons in musik I made hire to knowe.

"Plato the poete I putte first to boke, Aristotle and othere mo

To argue I taughte.

"Grammer for girles I garte first to write, And bette hem with a baleys, But if thei wolde lerne,

"Of alle kynne craftes I contreved tooles, Of carpentrie, of kerveres, And compased masons, And lerned hem level and lyne, Though I loke dymme.

"Ac Theologie hath tened me Ten score tymes; The moore I muse therinne The mystier it seemeth, And the depper I devyne The derker me it thynketh. It is no science, for sothe, For to sotile inne; A ful lethi thyng it were, If that love nere; Ac for it leteth best bi-love, I love it the bettre. For there that love is ledere, Ther lakked nevere grace. Loke thow love lelly, If thee liketh Do-wel; For Do-bet and Do-best Ben of Loves kynne.

"In oother science it seith, I seigh it in Caton: Qui simulat verbis, nec corde est fidus amicus, Tu quoque fac simile, sic ars deluditur arte.

"Who so gloseth as gylours doon, Go me to the same; And so shaltow fals folk And feith-lees bigile. This is Catons kennyng To clerkes that he lereth.

"Ac Theologie techeth noght so, Who so taketh yeme; He kenneth us the contrarie, Ayein Catons wordes. For he biddeth us be as bretheren, And bidde for our enemys. And loven hem that lyen on us, And lene hem whan hem nedeth, And do good ayein yvel, God hymself it hoteth. Dum tempus habemus, operemur bonum ad omnes, maxime autem ad domesticos fidei. Poul preched the peple That perfitnesse lovede, To do good for Goddes love, And gyven men that asked, And namely to swiche As suwen oure bileve, And alle that lakketh us, or lyeth, Oure Lord techeth us to lovye. And noght to greven hem that greveth us, God hymself forbad it, Mihi vindictam, et ego retribuam.

"For-thi loke thow lovye, As longe as thow durest; For is no science under sonne So sovereyn for the soule.

"Ac astronomye is an hard thyng, And yvel for to knowe; Geometrie and geomesie, So gynful of speche, Who so thynketh werche with tho two Thryveth ful late, For sorcerie is the sovereyn book That to tho sciences bilongeth.

"Yet ar ther fibicches in forceres Of fele mennes makyng, Experimentz of alkenamye The peple to deceyve; If thow thynke to do-wel, Deel therwith nevere.

"Alle thise sciences I myself Sotilede and ordeynede, And founded hem formest Folk to deceyve. Tel Clergie this tokene, And Scripture after, To counseille thee kyndely To knowe what is Do-wel."

I seide, "Graunt mercy, madame," And mekely hir grette; And wente wightly awey Withoute moore lettyng, And til I com to Clergie I koude nevere stynte; And grette the goode man, As Studie me taughte, And afterwardes the wif, And worshiped hem bothe, And tolde hem the tokenes That me taught were.

Was nevere gome upon this ground, Sith God made the worlde, Fairer under-fongen, Ne frendlier at ese, Than myself, soothly, Soone so he wiste Than I was of Wittes hous, And with his wif, dame Studie.

I seide to hem soothly That sent was I thider, Do-wel and Do-bet And Do-best to lerne.

"It is a commune lyf," quod Clergie, "On holy chirche to bileve, With alle the articles of the feith That falleth to be knowe; And that is to bileve lelly, Bothe lered and lewed, On the grete God That gynnyng hadde nevere, And on the soothfast Sone That saved mankynde Fro the dedly deeth And devel's power, Thorugh the help of the Holy Goost, The which goost is of bothe, Thre persones, ac noght In plurel nombre; For al is but oon God, And ech is God hymselve. Deus pater, Deus filius, Deus spiritus sanctus. = God the fader, God the sone, God holy goost of bothe,

Makere of mankynde, And of beestes bothe.

"Austyn the olde Herof made bokes, And hymself ordeyned To sadde us in bileve. Who was his auctour? Alle the foure euvangelistes, And Crist cleped hymself so, The euvangelistes bereth witnesse.

"Alle the clerkes under Crist Ne koude this assoille; But thus it bi-longeth to bileve To lewed that willen do-wel. For hadde nevere freke fyn wit The feith to dispute, Ne man hadde no merite, Myghte it ben y-preved. Fides non habet meritum, ubi humana ratio præbet experimentum.

"Thanne is Do-bet to suffre For the soules helthe, Al that the book bit Bi holi cherches techyng; And that is, man, bi thy myght, For mercies sake. Loke thow werche it in werk, That thi word sheweth, Swich as thow semest in sighte Be in assay y-founde. Appare quod es, vel esto quod appares. =

"And lat no body be

By thi beryng bigiled, But be swich in thi soule As thow semest withoute.

"Thanne is Do-best to be boold To blame the gilty, Sythenes thow seest thiself As in soule clene; Ac blame thow nevere body, And thow be blame worthy. Si culpare velis, Culpabilis esse cavebis; Dogma tuum sordet, Cum te tua culpa remordet.

"God in the Gospel Grevously repreveth Alle that lakketh any lif, And lakkes han hemselve. Qui consideras festucam in oculo fratris tui, trabem in oculo tuo, etc. =

"Why menestow thi mood for a mote In thi brotheres eighe, Sithen a beem in thyn owene A-blyndeth thiselve. Ejice primo trabem in oculo tuo, etc. = Which letteth thee to loke Lasse outher more.

"I rede ech a blynd bosarde Do boote to hymselve, For abbotes and for priours, And for alle manere prelates, As persons and parisshes preestes That preche sholde and teche

Alle maner men to amenden Bi hire myghtes.

"This text was told yow, To ben y-war, er ye taughte, That ye were swiche as ye seye, So salve with othere; For Goddes word wolde noght be lost, For that wercheth evere; If it availled noght the commune, It myghte availle yowselve.

"Ac it semeth now soothly To the worldes sighte, That Goddes word wercheth noght On lered ne on lewed, But in swich a manere As Marc meneth in the gospel: Dum cæcus ducit cæcum, ambo in foveam cadunt.

"Lewed men may likne yow thus, That the beem lith in youre eighen; And the festu is fallen For youre defaute, In alle maner men, Thorugh mansede preestes. The Bible bereth witnesse That the folk of Israel Bittre a-boughte the giltes Of two badde preestes, Offyn and Fynes, For hir coveitise, Archa Dei mys-happed, And Ely brak his nekke.

"For-thi ye corectours claweth heron. And corecteth first yowselve

And thanne mowe ye safly seye, As David made in the Sauter, Existimasti inique quod ero tui similis, arguam te, et statuam contra faciem tuam.

"And thanne shul burel clerkes ben abasshed To blame yow or to greve, And carpen noght as thei carpe now, Ne calle yow doumbe houndes. Canes non valentes latrare. And drede to wrathe yow in any word, Youre werkmanshipe to lette, And be prester at youre preiere, Than for a pound of nobles. And al for youre holynesse, Have ye this in herte.

"In scole there is scorn, But if a clerk wol lerne, And gret love and likyng, For ech of hem loveth oother.

"Ac now is Religion a rydere, A romere aboute, A ledere of love-dayes, And a lond-buggere, A prikere on a palfrey Fro manere to manere, An heepe of houndes at his ers As he a lord were. And but if his knave knele That shal his coppe brynge, He loureth on hym, and asketh hym Who taughte hym curteisie.

"Litel hadde lordes to doon,

To gyve lond from hire heires To religiouse, that han no routhe, Though it reyne on hir auters.

"In many places ther thei ben persons, By hemself at ese Of the povere have thei no pité; And that is hir charité. Ac thei leten hem as lordes Hire londes lyen so brode.

"Ac ther shal come a kyng, And confesse yow religiouses, And bete yow as the Bible telleth For brekynge of youre rule; And amende monyals, Monkes and chanons, And puten to hir penaunce Ad pristinum statum ire; And barons with erles beten hem, Thorugh Beatus-virres techyng, That hir barnes claymen And blame yow foule. Hi in curribus et hi in equis ipsi obligati sunt, etc.

"And thanne freres in hir fraytour Shul fynden a keye Of Costantyns cofres, In which is the catel That Gregories god-children Han yvele despended.

"And thanne shal the abbot of Abyngdone = And al his issue for evere, Have a knok of a kyng, And incurable the wounde.

"That this worth sooth, seke ye That ofte over-se the Bible: Quomodo cessavit exactor, quievit tributum, contrivit Dominus baculum impiorum et virgam dominantium cædentium plaga insanabili.

"Ac er that kyng come, Caym shal awake. But Do-wel shal dyngen hym adoun, And destruye his myghte."

"Thanne is Do-wel and Do-bet," quod I, "Dominus and knyghthode."

"I nel noght scorne," quod Scripture, "But if scryveynes lye; Kynghod ne knyghthod, By noght I kan a-wayte, Helpeth noght to hevene-ward Oone heris ende; Ne richesse right noght, Ne reautee of lordes. Poul preveth it impossible Riche men to have hevene. Salomon seith also That silver is worst to lovye: Nihil iniquius quam amare pecuniam. And Caton kenneth us to coveiten it Naught but as nede techeth, Dilige denarium, sed parce dilige formam. = And patriarkes and prophetes, And poetes bothe, Writen to wissen us

To wilne no richesse, And preiseden poverte with pacience; The apostles bereth witnesse That thei han eritage in hevene, And by trewe righte; Ther riche men no right may cleyme, But of ruthe and grace."

"Contra," quod I, "by Crist! That kan I repreve, And preven it by Peter, And by Poul bothe, That is baptized beth saaf, Be he riche or povere."

"That is in extremis," quod Scripture, "Amonges Sarzens and Jewes, They mowen be saved so, And that is oure bileve, That an un-cristene in that caas May cristen an hethen; And for his lele bileve, Whan he the lif tyneth, Have the heritage of hevene As any man cristene.

"Ac cristene men withoute moore Maye noght come to hevene; For that Crist for cristene men Deide and confermed the lawe, That who so wolde and wilneth With Crist to arise, Si cum Christo surexistis, etc. He sholde lovye and leve, And the lawe fulfille. That is, love thi lord God Levest aboven alle;

And after, alle cristene creatures In commune, ech man oother; And thus bi-longeth to lovye, That leveth be saved. And but we do thus in dede, At the day of dome It shal bi-sitten us ful soure The silver that we kepen; And oure bakkes that mothe-eten be, And seen beggeris go naked; Or delit in wyn and wilde fowel, And wite any in defaute. For every cristene creature Sholde be kynde til oother, And sithen hethen to helpe, In hope of amendement.

"God hoteth heighe and lowe That no man hurte oother; And seith, 'Slee noght that semblable is To myn owene liknesse, But if I sende thee som tokene;' And seith 'Non moechaberis. Is slee noght, but suffre, And al for the beste; For I shal punysshe hem in purgatorie Or in the put of helle, Ech man for hise mysdedes, But mercy it lette.'"

"This is a long lesson," quod I, "And litel am I the wiser; Where Do-wel is or Do-bet, Derkliche ye shewen. Manye tales ye tellen

That Theologie lerneth; And that I man maad was, And my name y-entred In the legende of lif Longe er I were, Or ellis un-writen for som wikkednesse, As Holy Writ witnesseth: Nemo ascendit ad coelum, nisi qui de coelo descendit.

"I leve it wel," quod I, "by oure Lord! And on no lettrure bettre. For Salomon the sage, That Sapience taughte, God gat hym grace of wit, And alle hise goodes after; He demed wel and wisely, As Holy Writ telleth. Aristotle and he, Who wissed men bettre? Maistres that of Goddes mercy Techen men and prechen, Of hir wordes thei wissen us For wisest as in hir tyme, And al holy chirche Holdeth hem bothe y-dampned.

"And if I sholde werche by hir werkes To wynne me hevene, That for hir werkes and wit Now wonyeth in pyne, Thanne wroughe I un-wisly, What so evere ye preche.

"Ac of fele witty, in feith, Litel ferly I have, Though hir goost be un-gracious

God for to plese. For many men on this moolde Moore setten hir hertes In good than in God; For-thi hem grace failleth At hir mooste meschief, Whan thei shal lif lete. As Salomon dide, and swiche othere That shewed grete wittes; Ac hir werkes, as holy writ seith, Were evere the contrarie. For-thi wise witted men, And wel y-lettrede clerkes, As thei seyen hemself, Selde doon therafter. Super cathedra Moysi, etc.

"Ac I wene it worth of manye, As was in Noes tyme, Tho he shoop that shipe Of shides and of bordes; Was nevere wrighte saved that wroghte theron, = Ne oothir werkman ellis, But briddes, and beestes, And the blissed Noe, And his wif with hise sones, And also hire wyves; Of wightes that it wroghte Was noon of hem y-saved.

"God leve it fare noght so bi folk That the feith techeth Of holi chirche, that herberwe is, And Goddes hous to save, And shilden us from shame therinne,

As Noes ship dide beestes; And men that maden it A-mydde the flood a-dreynten. The culorum of this clause Curatours is to mene, That ben carpenters holy kirk to make For Cristes owene beestes: Homines et jumenta salvabis, Domine, etc. =

"On Good Friday I fynde A felon was y-saved, That hadde lyved al his lif With lesynges and with thefte; And for he beknede to the cros, And to Crist shrof him, He was sonner y-saved Than seint Johan the Baptist; And or Adam or Ysaye, Or any of the prophetes, That hadde y-leyen with Lucifer Many longe yeres, A robbere was y-raunsoned Rather than thei alle, Withouten any penaunce of purgatorie, To perpetuel blisse.

"Than Marie Maudeleyne What womman dide werse? Or who worse than David, That Uries deeth conspired? Or Poul the apostle, That no pité hadde Muche cristene kynde To kille to dethe? And now ben thise as sovereyns With seintes in hevene,

Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest In world tho thei were. And tho that wisely wordeden, And writen manye bokes Of wit and of wisedom, With dampned soules wonye. That Salomon seith, I trowe be sooth And certein of us alle: Sunt justi atque sapientes et opera eorum in manu Dei sunt, etc.

"Ther are witty and wel libbynge, Ac hire werkes ben y-hudde In the hondes of almyghty God, And he woot the sothe, Wherfore a man worth allowed there, And hise lele werkes, Or ellis for his yvel wille, And for envye of herte, And be allowed as he lyved so; For by the luthere men knoweth the goode.

"And wherby wiste men which were whit, If alle thyng blak were? And who were a good man, But if ther were som sherewe? For-thi lyve we forth with othere men, I leve fewe ben goode; For quant oportet vient en place, Il n'y ad que pati. And he that may al amende, Have mercy on us alle! For sothest word that ever God seide Was tho he seide Nemo bonus.

"Clergie tho of Cristes mouth Comended was it litel;

For he seide to seint Peter, And to swiche as he lovede, Cum steteritis ante reges et præsides, etc. = Though ye come bifore kynges And clerkes of the lawe, Beth noght abasshed, For I shal be in youre mouthes, And gyve yow wit and wille, And konnyng to conclude Hem alle that ayeins yow Of Cristendom disputen.

"David maketh mencion, He spak amonges kynges, And myghte no kyng over-comen hym As by konnynge of speche, But wit and wisedom Wan nevere the maistrie, Whan man was at meschief, Withoute the moore grace.

"The doughtieste doctour And devinour of the Trinitee Was Austyn the olde, And heighest of the foure, Seide thus in a sermon, I seigh it writen ones: Ecce ipsi idiotæ vi rapiunt coelum, ubi nos sapientes in inferno mergimur.

"And is to mene to men, Moore ne lesse, Arn none rather y-ravysshed Fro the righte bileve, Than are thise konnynge clerkes That konne manye bokes.

"Ne none sonner saved, Ne sadder of bileve, Than plowmen and pastours, And othere commune laborers; Souteres and shepherdes, And othere lewed juttes, Percen with a pater-noster The paleys of hevene, And passen purgatorie penaunce-lees At her hennes partyng Into the blisse of paradis, For hir pure bileve, That imparfitly here knewe, And ek lyvede.

"Ye men knowe clerkes, That han corsed the tyme That evere thei kouthe or knewe moore Than Credo in Deum patrem; And principally hir pater-noster Many a persone hath wisshed.

"I se ensamples myself, And so may manye othere, That servauntz that serven lordes Selde fallen in arerage, And tho that kepen the lordes catel, Clerkes and reves.

"Right so lewed men, And of litel knowyng, Selden falle thei so foule And so fer in synne, As clerkes of holy chirche That kepen Cristes tresor, The which is mannes soule to save, As God seith in the Gospel: Ite vos in vineam meam."