Passus Vicesimus de Visione, et Primus de Do-best

Thanne as I wente by the wey, 13928 Whan I was thus awaked, Hevy-chered I yede, And elenge in herte; I ne wiste wher to ete, Ne at what place, And it neghed neigh the noon, And with Nede I mette That afrounted me foule, And faitour me called: "Kanstow noght excuse thee, As dide the kyng and othere, That thow toke to thy bilyve, 13940 To clothes and to sustenaunce; And by techynge and by tellynge Of spiritus temperantiæ, And thow nome na-moore Than nede thee taughte, And nede he hath no lawe, Ne nevere shal falle in dette; For thre thynges he taketh, His lif for to save.

"That is mete, whan men hym werneth 13950

And he no moneye weldeth, Ne wight noon wol ben his borugh, Ne wed hath noon to legge; And he caughte in that caas, And come therto by sleighte, He synneth noght, soothliche, That so wynneth his foode.

"And though he come so to a clooth, And kan no bettre chevyssaunce, Nede anoon righte 13960 Nymeth hym under maynprise.

"And if hym list for to lape, The lawe of kynde wolde That he dronke at ech dych, Er he for thurst deide. So Nede al gret nede May nymen, as for his owene, Withouten counseil of Conscience Or cardynale vertues, So that he sewe and save 13970 Spiritus temperantiæ.

"For is no vertue bi fer To spiritus temperantiæ; Ne spiritus justitiæ Ne spiritus fortitudinis. For spiritus fortitudinis Forfeteth ful ofte. He shal do moore than mesure Many tyme and ofte, And bete men over bittre, 13980 And some of hem to litel, And greve men gretter Than good feith it wolde

"And spiritus justitiæ Shal juggen, wol he nele he, After the kynges counseil, And the comune like. And spiritus prudentiæ In many a point shal faille Of that he weneth wolde falle, 13990 If his wit ne weere. Wenynge is no wysdom, Ne wys ymaginacion, Homo proponit, et Deus disponit, And governeth alle goode vertues; Ac Nede is next hym, For anoon he meketh, And as lowe as a lomb, For lakkyng of that hym nedeth. Wise men forsoke wele, 14000 For thei wolde be nedy, And woneden in wildernesse, And wolde noght he riche.

"And God al his grete joye Goostliche he lefte, And cam and took mankynde, And bi-cam nedy. So nedy he was, as seith the book, In manye sondry places, That he seide in his sorwe 14010 On the selve roode, Bothe fox and fowel May fle to hole and crepe, And the fissh hath fyn To flete with to reste, Ther Nede hath y-nome me That I moot nede abide

And suffre sorwes ful soure That shal to joye torne, For-thi be noght abasshed 14020 To bide and to be nedy; Sith he that wroghte al the world Was wilfulliche nedy, Ne nevere noon so nedy Ne poverer deide."

Whan Nede hath under-nome me thus, Anoon I fil a-slepe; And mette ful merveillously, That in mannes forme Antecrist cam thanne, 14030 And al the crop of Truthe Torned it up-so-doun, And over-tilte the roote; And fals sprynge and sprede, And spede mennes nedes, In ech a contree ther he cam He kutte awey truthe, And gerte gile growe there, As he a Good weere.

Freres folwede that fend, 14040 For he gaf hem copes; And religiouse reverenced hym, And rongen hir belles, And al the covent forth cam To welcome that tyraunt, And alle hise as wel as hym, Save oonly fooles. Whiche foolis were wel levere To deye than to lyve

Lenger, sith Lenten 14050 Was so rebuked. And as a fals fend, Antecrist Over alle folk regnede, Save that were mylde men and holye, That no meschief dradden, Defyed alle falsnesse And folk that it usede; And what kyng that hem conforted, Knowynge hem any while, They cursed and hir conseil, 14060 Were it clerk or lewed.

Antecrist hadde thus soone Hundredes at his baner, And Pride it bar Boldely aboute, With a lord that lyveth After likyng of body, That kam ayein Conscience, That kepere was and gyour Over kynde cristene 14070 And cardynale vertues.

"I conseille," quod Conscience tho, "Cometh with me, ye fooles, Into Unité holy chirche, And holde we us there; And crye we to kynde That he come and defende us, Fooles, fro thise fendes lymes, For Piers love the Plowman; And crye we to al the comune, 14080 That thei come to Unitee, And there abide and bikere Ayeins Beliales children."

Kynde Conscience tho herde, And cam out of the planetes, And sente forth his forreyours, Feveres and fluxes, Coughes and cardiacles, Crampes and tooth-aches, Rewmes and radegundes, 14090 And roynous scabbes, Biles and bocches, And brennynge agues, Frenesies and foule yveles, Forageres of kynde, Hadde y-priked and prayed Polles of peple, That largeliche a legion Loste hir lif soone.

There was, "Harrow and help! 14100 Here cometh Kynde, With Deeth that is dredful To undo us alle!"

The lord that lyved after lust Tho aloud cryde After Confort, a knyght, To come and bere his baner; "A l'arme! à l'arme!" quod that lord, "Ech lif kepe his owene!"

And thanne mette thise men, 14110 Er mynstrals myghte pipe, And er heraudes of armes Hadden discryved lordes, Elde the hoore That was in the vaunt-warde. And bar the baner bifore Deeth, Bi right he it cleymede.

Kynde cam after, With many kene soores, As pokkes and pestilences, 14120 And muche peple shente; So Kynde thorugh corrupcions Kilde ful manye.

Deeth cam dryvynge after, And al to duste passhed Kynges and knyghtes, Kaysers and popes, Lered and lewed, He leet no man stonde That he hitte evene, 14130 That evere stired after. Manye a lovely lady, And lemmans of knyghtes, Swowned and swelted For sorwe of hise dyntes.

Conscience of his curteisie To Kynde he bi-soughte To cesse and suffre, And see wher thei wolde Leve Pride pryvely, 14140 And be parfite cristene.

And Kynde cessede tho To se the peple amende. Fortune gan flatere thanne Tho fewe that were alyve, And bi-highte hem long lif, And Lecherie he sente Amonges alle manere men, Wedded and unwedded, And gaderede a greet hoost 14150 Al agayn Conscience.

This Lecherie leide on With a janglynge chiere, And with pryvee speche And peyntede wordes; And armede hym in ydelnesse, And in heigh berynge. He bar a bowe in his hand, And manye brode arewes, Weren fethered with fair bi-heste 14160 And many a fals truthe. With hise un-tidy tales He tened ful ofte. Conscience and his compaignye, Of holy chirche the techeris.

Thanne cam Coveitise, And caste how he myghte Overcome Conscience And cardinale vertues, And armed hym in avarice, 14170 And hungriliche lyvede. His wepne was al wiles To wynnen and to hiden; With glosynges and with gabbynges He giled the peple.

Symonye hym sente To assaille Conscience, And preched to the peple; And prelates thei hem maden To holden with Antecrist, 14180 His temporaltees to save; And cam to the kynges counseille As a kene baroun, And kneled to Conscience In court afore hem alle,

And garte good feith flee, And fals to abide; And boldeliche bar a-doun, With many a bright noble, Muche of the wit and wisdom 14190 Of Westmynstre Halle. He jogged to a justice, And justed in his eere, And over-tilte al his truthe With "Tak this up amendement."

And to the Arches in haste He yede anoon after, And tornede cyvyle into symonye, And siththe he took the official For a mantel of menever, 14200 And made lele matrymoyne Departen er deeth cam, And devors shapte.

"Allas!" quod Conscience, and cryde tho, "Wolde Crist of his grace That coveitise were cristene! That is so kene a fightere, And boold and bidynge While his bagge lasteth."

And thanne lough Lyf, 14210 And leet daggen hise clothes, And armed hym an haste With harlotes wordes; And heeld holynesse a jape, And hendenesse a wastour; And leet leautee a cherl, And lyere a fre man; Conscience and his counseil He counted at a flye

Thus relyede Lif, 14220 For a litel fortune; And priketh forth with Pride, Preiseth he no vertue, Ne careth noght how Kynde slow, And shal come at the laste, And kille alle erthely creatures, Save Conscience oone. Lyf lepte aside, And laughte hym a lemman; "Heele and I," quod he, 14230 "And heighnesse of herte, Shal do thee noght drede Neither deeth ne elde, And to forgyte sorwe, And gyve noght of synne."

This likede Lif, And his lemman Fortune; And geten in hir glorie A gadelyng at the laste, Oon that muche wo wroghte, 14240 Sleuthe was his name. Sleuthe wax wonder yerne, And soone was of age, And wedded oon Wanhope, A wenche of the stuwes. Hir sire was a sysour That nevere swoor truthe, Oon Tomme Two-tonge, Atteynt at ech enqueste.

This Sleuthe was war of werre, 14250 And a slynge made, And threw drede of dispair A dozeyne myle aboute.

For care Conscience tho Cryde upon Elde, And bad hym fonde to fighte, And a-fere Wanhope.

And Elde hente good hope, And hastiliche he shifte hym, And wayved awey Wanhope, 14260 And with Lif he fighteth. And Lif fleigh for feere To phisik after helpe, And bi-soughte hym of socour, And of his salve he hadde. He gaf hym gold good woon, That gladede his herte; And thei gyven hym ageyn A glazene howve.

Lyf leeved that lechecraft 14270 Lette sholde elde, And dryven awey deeth With dyas and drogges.

And Elde auntred hym on lyf, And at the laste he hitte A phisicien with a furred hood, That he fel in a palsie, And there dyed that doctour Er thre dayes after.

"Now I se," seide Lif, 14280 "That surgerie ne phisik May noght a myte availle To mede ayein Elde." And in hope of his heele Good herte he hente, And rood forth to a revel, A ryche place and a murye;

The compaignye of confort Men cleped it som tyme.

And Elde anoon after me 14290 And over myn heed yede; And made me balled bifore, And bare on the crowne. So harde he yede over myn heed, It wole be sene evere.

"Sire yvele y-taught, Elde!" quod I, "Unhende go with the! Sith whanne was the wey Over mennes heddes? Haddestow be hende," quod I, 14300 "Thow woldest have asked leeve."

"Ye, leve lurdeyn!" quod he; And leyde on me with age, And hitte me under the ere, Unnethe myghte ich here. He buffetted me so aboute the mouth, That out my teeth he bette; And gyved me in goutes, I may noght goon at large. And of the wo that I was inne 14310 My wif hadde ruthe, And wisshed ful witterly That I were in hevene; For the lyme that she loved me fore, And leef was to feele,— On nyghtes, namely, Whan we naked weere,— I ne myghte in no manere Maken it at hir wille; So Elde and she, soothly, 14320 Hadden it for-beten.

And as I seet in this sorwe, I saugh how Kynde passede; And Deeth drogh neigh me. For drede gan I quake, And cryde to Kynde, "Out of care me brynge! Lo! Elde the hoore Hath me bi-seye. Awreke me! if youre wille be, 14330 For I wolde ben hennes."

"If thow wolt be wroken, Wend into Unitee, And hold thee there evere, Til I sende for thee; And loke thow konne som craft, Er thow come thennes."

"Counseille me, Kynde," quod I, "What craft is best to lerne."

"Lerne to love," quod Kynde, 14340 "And leef of alle othere."

"How shal I come to catel so, To clothe me and to feede?"

"And thow love lelly," quod he, "Lakke shal thee nevere Mete ne worldly weede, While thi lif lasteth."

And there by conseil of Kynde I comsed to rome Thorugh Contricion and Confession, 14350 Til I cam to Unitee. And there was Conscience conestable Cristene to save, And bisegede soothly With sevene grete geauntz

That with Antechrist helden Harde ayein Conscience.

Sleuthe with his slynge An hard assaut he made. Proude preestes coome with hym 14360 Mo than a thousand, In paltokes and pyked shoes, And pisseris longe knyves, Coomen ayein Conscience, With Coveitise thei helden.

"By Marie!" quod a mansed preest Of the Marche of Walys, "I counte na-moore Conscience, By so I cacche silver, Than I do to drynke 14370 A draughte of good ale." And so seiden sixty Of the same contree; And shotten ayein with shot Many a sheef of othes, And brode hoked arwes, Goddes herte and hise nayles; And hadden almoost Unitee, And holynesse a-down.

Conscience cryede, "Helpe, Clergie! 14380 Or ellis I falle, Thorugh inparfite preestes And prelates of holy chirche." Freres herden hym crye, And comen hym to helpe; Ac for thei kouthe noght wel hir craft, Conscience forsook hem.

Nede neghede tho neer, And Conscience he tolde

That thei come for coveitise 14390 To have cure of soules; "And for thei are povere, peraventure, For patrymoyne thei faille, They wol flatere and fare wel With folk that ben riche. And sithen thei chosen chele And cheitiftee poverte, Lat hem chewe as thei chose, And charge hem with no cure. For lomere he lyeth, 14400 That liflode moot begge, Than he that laboureth for liflode, And leneth it beggeris. And sithen freres forsoke The felicité of erthe, Lat hem be as beggeris, Or lyve by aungeles foode."

Conscience of this counseil tho Comsede for to laughe, And curteisliche conforted hem, 14410 And called in alle freres, And seide, "Sires, soothly Welcome be ye alle To Unitee and holy chirche; Ac o thyng I yow preye, Holdeth yow in Unitee, And haveth noon envye To lered ne to lewed, But lyveth after youre reule, And I wol be youre borugh 14420 Ye shal have breed and clothes And othere necessaries y-nowe, Yow shal no thyng faille,

With that ye leve logik, And lerneth for to lovye. For love lafte thei lordshipe, Bothe lond and scole, Frere Fraunceys and Domynyk, For love to be holye.

"And if ye coveite cure, 14430 Kynde wol yow teche That in mesure God made Alle manere thynges, And sette hem at a certein And a siker nombre, And nempnede names newe, And noumbrede the sterres. Qui numerat multitudinem stellarum, et omnibus eis, etc.

"Kynges and knyghtes 14440 That kepen and defenden, Han officers under hem, And ech of hem a certein. And if thei wage men to werre, Thei write hem in noumbre; Alle othere in bataille Ben y-holde brybours, Pylours and pyke-harneys, In ech a place y-cursed, Wol no man tresore hem paie, 14450 Travaille thei never so soore.

"Monkes and moniales, And alle men of religion, Hir ordre and hir reule wole To han a certein noumbre, Of lewed and of lered, The lawe wole and asketh

A certein for a certein, Save oonliche of freres.

"For thi," quod conscience, "by Crist! 14460 Kynde wit me telleth It is wikked to wage yow, Ye wexen out of noumbre; Hevene hath evene noumbre, And helle is withoute noumbre. For-thi I wolde witterly That ye were in the registre, And youre noumbre under notaries signe, And neither mo ne lasse."

Envye herde this, 14470 And heet freres to go to scole And lerne logyk and lawe, And ek contemplacion, And preche men of Plato, And preve it by Seneca, That alle thynges under hevene Oughte to ben in comune.

And yet he lyeth, as I leve, That to the lewed so precheth; For God made to men a lawe, 14480 And Moyses it taughte. Non concupisces rem proximi tui.

And yvele in this y-holde In parisshes of Engelonde; For persons and parissh-preestes That sholde the peple shryve, Ben curatours called, To knowe and to hele Alle that ben hir parisshens, Penaunce to enjoigne; 14490 And sholden be ashamed in his shrift;

Ac shame maketh hem wende And fleen to the freres, As fals folk to Westmynstre, That borweth, and bereth it thider, And thanne biddeth frendes Yerne of forgifnesse, Or lenger yeres loone. Ac while he is in Westmynstre, He wol be bifore, 14500 And maken hym murie With oother mennes goodes.

And so it fareth with muche folk That to the freres hem shryveth, As sisours and executours, Thei wol gyve the freres A parcel to preye for hem, And make hemself murye With the residue and the remenaunt That othere men bi-swonke, 14510 And suffre the dede in dette To the day of doome.

Envye herfore Hatede Conscience; And freres to philosophie He fond thanne to scole, The while Coveitise and Unkyndenesse, Conscience assaillede. In Unitee holy chirche Conscience held hym, 14520 And made Pees porter To pynne the yates, Of alle tale-telleris And titeleris in ydel

Ypocrisie and he An hard assaut thei made, And woundede wel wikkedly Many a wis techere That with Conscience acordede And cardynale vertues. 14530

Conscience called a leche, That koude wel shryve, To go salve tho that sike ben And thorugh synne y-wounded Shrift shoop sharpe salve, And made men do penaunce For hir mys-dedes That thei wroght hadde, And that Piers were y-payed: Redde quod debes. 14540

Some liked noght this leche, And lettres thei sente, If any surgien were the segge That softer koude plastre. Sire Leef-to-lyve-in-lecherie Lay there and gronede, For fastynge of a Frydaye He ferde as he wolde deye.

"Ther is a surgien in this sege That softe kan handle, 14550 And moore of phisik bi fer And fairer he plastreth, Oon frere Flaterere, Is phisicien and surgien."

Quod Contricion to Conscience, "Do hym come to Unitee; For here is many a man

Hurt thorugh Ypocrisye."

"We han no nede," quod Conscience, "I woot no bettre leche 14560 Than person or parisshe-preest, Penitauncer or bisshope, Save Piers the Plowman, That hath power over hem alle, And indulgence may do, But if dette lette it."

"I may wel suffre," seide Conscience, "Syn ye desiren That frere Flaterere be fet And phisike yow sike." 14570

The frere herof herde And hiede faste To a lord for a lettre, Leve to have to curen, As a curatour he were; And cam with hise lettres Boldely to the bisshope, And his brief hadde, In contrees ther he coome Confessions to here, 14580 And cam there Conscience was, And knokked at the yate.

Pees unpynned it, Was porter of Unitee, And in haste askede What his wille were.

"In faith!" quod this frere, "For profit and for helthe Carpe I wolde with Contricion, And therfore cam I hider." 14590

"He is sik," seide Pees,

"And so are manye othere. Ypocrisie hath hurt hem, Ful hard is if thei kevere."

"I am a surgien," seide the segge, "And salves kan make. Conscience knoweth me wel, And what I kan do bothe."

"I praye thee," quod Pees tho, "Er thow passe ferther, 14600 What hattestow? I praye thee; Hele noght thi name."

"Certes," seide his felawe, "Sire Penetrans-domos."

"Ye, go thi gate," quod Pees, "By God! for al thi phisik, But thow konne som oother craft, Thow comest nought herinne. I knew swich oon ones, Noght eighte wynter hennes, 14610 Coom in thus y-coped At a court there I dwelde, And was my lordes leche, And my ladies bothe. And at the laste this lymytour, Tho my lord was oute, He salvede so oure wommen Til some were with childe."

Hende-speche heet Pees Open the yates, 14620 "Lat in the frere and his felawe, And make hem fair cheere; He may se and here, So it may bifalle That lif thorugh his loore

Shal leve Coveitise, And be a-drad of Deeth, And withdrawe hym fram Pryde, And acorde with Conscience, And kisse hir either oother." 14630

Thus thorugh Hende-speche Entred the frere, And cam in to Conscience, And curteisly hym grette.

"Thou art welcome," quod Conscience, "Kanstow heele the sike? Here is Contricion," quod Conscience, "My cosyn, y-wounded. Conforte hym," quod Conscience, "And tak kepe to hise soores. 14640 The plastres of the person And poudres biten to soore; He lat hem ligge over longe, And looth is to chaunge hem; Fro lenten to lenten He lat hise plastres bite."

"That is over longe," quod this lymytour, "I leve I shal amende it." And gooth and gropeth Contricion, And gaf hym a plastre 14650 Of 'a pryvee paiement, And I shal praye for yow For al that ye ben holden to, Al my lif tyme, And make yow, my lady, In masse and in matyns As frere of oure fraternytee

For a litel silver.'

Thus he gooth and gadereth, And gloseth there he shryveth, 14660 Til Contricion hadde clene foryeten To crye and to wepe; And wake for hise wikked werkes, As he was wont to doone, For confort of his confessour Contricion he lafte, That is the soverayneste salve For alle kynne synnes.

Sleuthe seigh that, And so dide Pryde, 14670 And comen with a kene wille Conscience to assaille.

Conscience cryed eft, And bad Clergie helpe hym, And also Contricion, For to kepe the yate.

"He lyth and dremeth," seide Pees, "And so do manye othere, The frere with his phisyk This folk hath enchaunted, 14680 And plastred hem so esily, Thei drede no synne."

"By Crist!" quod Conscience tho, "I wole bicome a pilgrym, And walken as wide As the world lasteth, To seken Piers the Plowman, That Pryde may destruye; And that freres hadde a fyndyng, That for nede flateren, 14690 And countrepledeth me, Conscience.

Now Kynde me avenge, And sende me hap and heele, Til I have Piers the Plowman." And siththe he gradde after Grace, Til I gan awake. 14696

Explicit hic Dialogus Petri Plowman.