Thei have no puteye of the puple

Thei have no puteye of the puple That parcel-mele mote biggen, Thauh thei take hem untydy thyng, Thei hold it no treson; And thauh thei fulle nat ful, That for lawe y-seelde, He gripeth therfor as grete As for the grete treuthe.

Meny sondry sorwes In cyté fallen ofte, Bothe thorw fyur and flod, And al for false puple, That bygylen good men, And greveth hem wrongliche, The wiche cryen on hure knees That Christ hem avenge Here on this erthe, Other elles on helle, That so bygyleth hem of here good, And God on hem sendeth Feveres, other fouler hyveles, Other fur on here houses, Moreyne, other meschaunce. And menye tyme hit falleth, That innocence ys y-herde In hevene amonge seyntes, That louten for hem to oure Lorde, And to oure Lady bothe, To granten gylours on erthe Grace to amende, And have here penaunce on pure erthe, And noght in the pyne of helle. And thenne falleth the fur On false menne houses, And good men for here gultes Gloweth on fuyr after. Al thys have we seyen, That some tyme thorw a brewere Many burgages y-brent, And bodyes therynne, And thorw a candel cloming In a cursed place, Fel a-don and for-brende Forth al the rewe, For-thy mayres that maken free-men, Me thynken that thei ouhten For to spure and aspye, For eny speche of selver, What manere mester Of merchaundise he usede, Er he were underfonge free And felawe in youre rolles. Hit ys nought semly, for soth, In cyté ne in borw-ton, That usurers other regratours For eny kynne geftes, Be fraunchised for a free-man, And have fals name.

1548. Job, xv, 34.