Chapter 3

Filler.

Passus Secundus de Visione, ut supra.Y880ET I courbed on my knees,And cried hire of grace,And seide, "Mercy, madame,For Marie love of hevene,That bar that blisful barnThat boughte us on the rode,Kenne me by som craftTo knowe the false.""Loke up on thi left half,And lo where he stondeth!890Bothe Fals and Favel,And hire feeres manye."I loked on my left half,As the lady me taughte,And was war of a wommanWorthiliche y-clothed,Purfiled with pelureThe fyneste upon erthe,Y-corouned with a coroune,The kyng hath noon bettre;900Fetisliche hire fyngresWere fretted with gold wyr,And theron rede rubiesAs rede as any gleede,And diamaundes of derrest pris,And double manere saphires,Orientals and ewages,Envenymes to destroye.Hire robe was ful riche,Of reed scarlet engreyned,910With ribanes of reed goldAnd of riche stones.Hire array me ravysshed,Swich richesse saugh I nevere;I hadde wonder what she was,And whos wif she were."What is this womman," quod I,"So worthili atired?""That is Mede the mayde," quod she,"Hath noyed me ful ofte,920And y-lakked my lemmanThat Leautee is hoten,And bi-lowen hire to lordesThat lawes han to kepe."In the popes paleisShe is pryvee as myselve;But soothnesse wolde noght so,For she is a bastarde;For fals was hire faderThat hath a fikel tonge,930And nevere sooth seideSithen he com to erthe;And Mede is manered after hym,Right as kynde askethQualis pater talis filius.Bonus arbor bonumfructumfacit."I oughte ben hyere than she,I kam of a bettre;My fader the grete God isAnd ground of alle graces,940So God withouten gynnyng,And I his goode doughter,And hath yeven me mercyTo marie with myselve,And what man be mercifulAnd leelly me love,Shal be my lord and I his leefIn the heighe hevene."And what man taketh Mede,Myn heed dar I legge,950That he shal lese for hire loveA lappe ofcaritatis."How construeth David the kingOf men that taketh Mede,And men of this mooldeThat maynteneth truthe,And how ye shul save yourself,The sauter bereth witnesse:=Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo, etc.960"And now worth this Mede y-mariedUnto amansedsherewe,To oon fals fikel tonge,A fendes biyete;Favel thorugh his faire specheHath this folk enchaunted,And al is Lieres ledynge,That she is thus y-wedded."To-morwe worth y-makedThe maydenes bridale,970And there myghtow witen, if thow wilt,Whiche thei ben alleThat longen to that lordshipe,The lasse and the moore.Knowe hem there, if thow kanst,And kepe thow thi tonge,And lakke hem noght, but lat hem wortheTill leauté be justice,And have power to punysshe hem,Thanne put forth thi reson.980Now I bikenne thee Crist," quod she,"And his clene moder,And lat no conscience acombre theeFor coveitise of Mede."Thus lefte me that ladyLiggynge a-slepe;And how Mede was y-mariedIn metels me thoughte,That al the riche retenaunceThat regneth with the false,990Were boden to the bridaleOn bothe two sides,Of alle manere of menThe meene and the riche;To marien this maydeWere many men assembled,As of knyghtes and of clerkes,And oother commune peple,As sisours and somonours,Sherreves and hire clerkes,1000Bedelles and baillifs,And brocours of chaffare,Forgoers and vitaillers,And advokettes of the arches;I kan noght rekene the routeThat ran aboute Mede.Ac Symonie and Cyvylle,And sisours of courtes,Were moost pryvee with MedeOf any men, me thoughte.1010Ac Favel was the firsteThat fette hire out of boure,And as a brocour broughte hireTo be with Fals enjoyned.Whan Symonye and CyvylleSeighe hir bothe wille,Thei assented, for silver,To seye as bothe wolde.Thanne leep Liere forth, and seide,"Lo here a chartre!"1020That Gile with hise grete othesGaf hem togidere,And preide Cyvylle to see,And Symonye to rede it.Thanne Symonye and CyvylleStonden forth bothe,And unfoldeth the feffementThat Fals hath y-maked,And thus bigynnen thise gomesTo greden ful heighe:1030Sciant præsentes et futuri, etc.Witeth and witnesseth,That wonieth upon this erthe,That Mede is y-mariedMoore for hire goodesThan for any vertue or fairnesse,Or any free kynde.Falsnesse is fayn of hire,For he woot hire riche;And Favel with his fikel speche1040Feffeth by this chartre,To be princes in prideAnd poverte to despise,To bakbite and to bosten,And bere fals witnesse,To scorne and to scolde,And sclaundre to make,Unbuxome and boldeTo breke the ten hestes.And the erldom of Envye1050And Wrathe togideres,With the chastilet of Cheste,And Chaterynge out of reson.The countee of Coveitise,And alle the costes aboute,That is Usure and Avarice,Al I hem graunte,In bargaynes and in brocages,With al the burghe of Thefte,And al the lordshipe of Leccherie1060In lengthe and in brede,As in werkes and in wordes,And in waitynges with eighes,And in wedes and in wisshynges,And with ydel thoughtes,There as wil woldeAnd werkmanshipe fayleth.Glotonye he gaf hem ek,And grete othes togidere,And al day to drynken1070At diverse tavernes,And there to jangle and jape,And jugge hir even cristen;And in fastynge dayes to freteEr ful tyme were,And thanne to sitten and soupenTil sleep hem assaille;And breden as burghe swyn,And bedden hem esily,Til sleuthe and sleep1080Sliken hise sydes,And thanne wanhope to awaken hem soWith no wil to amende,For he leveth be lost,This is hir laste ende.And thei to have and to holde,And hire heires after,A dwellynge with the devel,And dampned be for evere,=With alle the appurtinaunces of purgatorie1091Into the pyne of helle.Yeldynge for this thyng,At one dayes tyme,Hire soules to Sathan,To suffre with hym peynes,And with hym to wonye with woWhile God is in hevene.In witnesse of which thyng,Wrong was the firste,1100And Piers the pardonerOf Paulynes doctrine,Bette the bedelOf Bokyngham shire,Reynald the reveOf Rutland sokene,Maude the millere,And many mo othere.In the date of the develThis dede I ensele,1110By sighte of Sire SymonieAnd Cyvyles leeve.Thanne tened hym Theologie,Whan he this tale herde;And seide unto Cyvyle,"Now sorwe mote thow have,Swiche weddynges to werche,To wrathe with truthe;And er this weddynge be wroght,Wo thee bitide!1120"For Mede is muliereOf Amendes engendred,And God graunteth to gyveMede to Truthe;And thow hast gyven hire to a gilour;Now God gyve thee sorwe!Thi text telleth thee noght so,Truthe woot the sothe;ForDignus est operariusHis hire to have,1130And thow hast fest hire to Fals,Fy on thi lawe!For al bi lesynges thow lyvestAnd lecherouse werkes.Symonye and thiselfShenden holi chirche;The notaries and yeNoyen the peple;Ye shul a-biggen it bothe,By God that me made!1140"Wel ye witen, wernardes,But if youre wit faille,That Fals is feithleesAnd fikel in hise werkes,And was a bastarde y-boreOf Belsabubbes kynne;And Mede is muliere,A maiden of goode,And myghte kisse the kyngFor cosyn, and she wolde.1150"For-thi wercheth by wisdom,And by wit also;And ledeth hire to Londone,There it is y-shewed,If any lawe wol lokeThei ligge togideres;And though justices juggen hireTo be joyned to Fals,Yet be war of weddynge;For witty is Truthe,1160And Conscience is of his counseil,And knoweth yow echone,And if he fynde yow in defauteAnd with the false holde,It shal bi-sitte youre soulesFul soure at the laste."Herto assenteth Cyvyle,Ac Symonye ne wolde,Til he hadde silver for his service,And also the notaries.1170Thanne fette Favel forthFloryns ynowe,And bad Gile to gyvenGold al aboute,And namely to the notariesThat hem noon ne faille,And feffe false witnessesWith floryns ynowe,"For thei may Mede a-maistrye,And maken at my wille."1180Tho this gold was y-gyve,Gret was the thonkyngTo Fals and to FavelFor hire faire giftes,And comen to confortenFrom care the false,And seiden, "Certes, sire,Cessen shul we nevere,Til Mede be thi wedded wifThorugh wittes of us alle;1190For we have Mede a-maistriedWith oure murie speche,That she graunteth to goon,With a good wille,To London, to lokenIf the lawe woldeJuggen yow joyntlyIn joie for evere."Thanne was Falsnesse fayn,And Favel as blithe,1200And leten somone alle seggesIn shires aboute,And bad hem alle be bown,Beggers and othere,To wenden with hemto WestmynstreTo witnesse this dede.Ac thanne cared thei for caplesTo carien hem thider,And Favel fette forth thanneFoles ynowe,1210And sette Mede upon a sherreveShoed al newe.And Fals sat on a sisour,That softeli trotted;And Favel on a flaterereFetisly atired.Tho hadde notaries none,Anoyed thei were,For Symonye and CyvylleSholde on hire feet gange.1220Ac thanne swoor Symonye,And Cyvylle bothe,That somonours sholde be sadeledAnd serven hem echone,And late apparaille thise provisoursIn palfreyes wise,Sire Symonye hymselfShal sitte upon hir bakkes."Denes and southdenes,Drawe yow togideres,1230Erchdekenes and officials,And alle youre registrers,Lat sadle hem with silverOure synne to suffre,As avoutrye and divorses,And derne usurie,To bere bisshopes abouteA-brood in visitynge."Paulynes pryveesFor pleintes in consistorie,1240Shul serven myselfThat Cyvyle is nempned."And cart-sadle the commissarie,Oure cart shal he lede,And fecchen us vitailles.AtFornicatores.And maketh of Lyere a lang cartTo leden alle thise othere,As freres and faitours,That on hire feet rennen."1250And thus Fals and FavelFareth forth togideres,And Mede in the middes,And alle thise men after.I have no tome to telleThe tail that hire folwed;Ac Gyle was for-goer,And gyed hem alle.Sothnesse seigh hem wel,And seide but litel,1260And priked his palfrey,And passed hem alle,And com to the kynges court,And Conscience it tolde;And Conscience to the kyngCarped it after."Now, by Crist," quod the kyng,"And I cacche myghteFals or Favel,Or any of hise feeris,1270I wolde be wroken of tho wrecchesThat wercheth so ille,And doon hem hange by the hals,And alle that hem maynteneth;Shal nevere man of this moldeMeynprise the leeste,But right as the lawe wol loke,Lat falle on hem alle."And comaunded a constableThat com at the firste,1280To attachen tho tyrauntz,"For any thyng I hote,And fettreth faste Falsnesse,For any kynnes giftes,And girdeth of Gyles heed,And lat hym go no ferther;And if ye lacche Lyere,Lat hym noght ascapenEr he be put on the pillory,For any preyere, I hote;1290And bryngeth Mede to meMaugree hem alle."Drede at the dore stood,And the doom herde,And how the kyng comaundedConstables and sergeauntzFalsnesse and his felawshipeTo fettren and to bynden.Thanne Drede wente wyghtliche,And warned the False,1300And bad hym fle for fere,And hise felawes alle.Falsnesse for fere thanneFleigh to the ffreres,And Gyle dooth hym to go,A-gast for to dye;Ac marchauntz metten with hymAnd made hym abide,And bi-shetten hym in hire shoppesTo shewen hire ware,1310Apparailed hym as apprenticeThe peple to serve.Lightliche LyereLeep awey thanne,Lurkynge thorugh lanes,To-lugged of manye.He was nowher welcome,For his manye tales,Over al y-honted,And y-hote trusse,1320Til pardoners hadde pité,And pulled hym into house.They wesshen hym and wiped hym.And wounden hym in cloutes,And senten hym with selesOn Sondayes to chirches,And yeven pardoun for pensPounde-mele aboute.Thanne lourede leches,And lettres thei sente,1330That he sholde wonye with hemWatres to loke.Spycers speken with hym,To spien hire ware;For he kouthe of hir craft,And knewe manye gommes.And mynstrales and messagersMette with hym ones,And helden hym an half-yeerAnd ellevene dayes.1340Freres with fair specheFetten hym pennes,And for knowynge of comeresCoped hym as a frere;Ac he hath leve to lepen out,As ofte as hym liketh,And is welcome whan he wile,And woneth with hem ofte.Alle fledden for fere,And flowen into hernes;1350Save Mede the mayde,Na-mo dorste abide.Ac trewely to telle,She trembled for drede,And ek wepte and wrong,1355Whan she was attached.

Passus Secundus de Visione, ut supra.

Y880ET I courbed on my knees,And cried hire of grace,And seide, "Mercy, madame,For Marie love of hevene,That bar that blisful barnThat boughte us on the rode,Kenne me by som craftTo knowe the false."

Y880

880

ET I courbed on my knees,

And cried hire of grace,

And seide, "Mercy, madame,

For Marie love of hevene,

That bar that blisful barn

That boughte us on the rode,

Kenne me by som craft

To knowe the false."

"Loke up on thi left half,And lo where he stondeth!890Bothe Fals and Favel,And hire feeres manye."

"Loke up on thi left half,

And lo where he stondeth!

890

Bothe Fals and Favel,

And hire feeres manye."

I loked on my left half,As the lady me taughte,And was war of a wommanWorthiliche y-clothed,Purfiled with pelureThe fyneste upon erthe,Y-corouned with a coroune,The kyng hath noon bettre;900Fetisliche hire fyngresWere fretted with gold wyr,And theron rede rubiesAs rede as any gleede,And diamaundes of derrest pris,And double manere saphires,Orientals and ewages,Envenymes to destroye.

I loked on my left half,

As the lady me taughte,

And was war of a womman

Worthiliche y-clothed,

Purfiled with pelure

The fyneste upon erthe,

Y-corouned with a coroune,

The kyng hath noon bettre;

900

Fetisliche hire fyngres

Were fretted with gold wyr,

And theron rede rubies

As rede as any gleede,

And diamaundes of derrest pris,

And double manere saphires,

Orientals and ewages,

Envenymes to destroye.

Hire robe was ful riche,Of reed scarlet engreyned,910With ribanes of reed goldAnd of riche stones.Hire array me ravysshed,Swich richesse saugh I nevere;I hadde wonder what she was,And whos wif she were.

Hire robe was ful riche,

Of reed scarlet engreyned,

910

With ribanes of reed gold

And of riche stones.

Hire array me ravysshed,

Swich richesse saugh I nevere;

I hadde wonder what she was,

And whos wif she were.

"What is this womman," quod I,"So worthili atired?"

"What is this womman," quod I,

"So worthili atired?"

"That is Mede the mayde," quod she,"Hath noyed me ful ofte,920And y-lakked my lemmanThat Leautee is hoten,And bi-lowen hire to lordesThat lawes han to kepe.

"That is Mede the mayde," quod she,

"Hath noyed me ful ofte,

920

And y-lakked my lemman

That Leautee is hoten,

And bi-lowen hire to lordes

That lawes han to kepe.

"In the popes paleisShe is pryvee as myselve;But soothnesse wolde noght so,For she is a bastarde;For fals was hire faderThat hath a fikel tonge,930And nevere sooth seideSithen he com to erthe;And Mede is manered after hym,Right as kynde askethQualis pater talis filius.Bonus arbor bonumfructumfacit.

"In the popes paleis

She is pryvee as myselve;

But soothnesse wolde noght so,

For she is a bastarde;

For fals was hire fader

That hath a fikel tonge,

930

And nevere sooth seide

Sithen he com to erthe;

And Mede is manered after hym,

Right as kynde asketh

Qualis pater talis filius.

Bonus arbor bonumfructumfacit.

"I oughte ben hyere than she,I kam of a bettre;My fader the grete God isAnd ground of alle graces,940So God withouten gynnyng,And I his goode doughter,And hath yeven me mercyTo marie with myselve,And what man be mercifulAnd leelly me love,Shal be my lord and I his leefIn the heighe hevene.

"I oughte ben hyere than she,

I kam of a bettre;

My fader the grete God is

And ground of alle graces,

940

So God withouten gynnyng,

And I his goode doughter,

And hath yeven me mercy

To marie with myselve,

And what man be merciful

And leelly me love,

Shal be my lord and I his leef

In the heighe hevene.

"And what man taketh Mede,Myn heed dar I legge,950That he shal lese for hire loveA lappe ofcaritatis.

"And what man taketh Mede,

Myn heed dar I legge,

950

That he shal lese for hire love

A lappe ofcaritatis.

"How construeth David the kingOf men that taketh Mede,And men of this mooldeThat maynteneth truthe,And how ye shul save yourself,The sauter bereth witnesse:=Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo, etc.

"How construeth David the king

Of men that taketh Mede,

And men of this moolde

That maynteneth truthe,

And how ye shul save yourself,

The sauter bereth witnesse:

Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo, etc.

960"And now worth this Mede y-mariedUnto amansedsherewe,To oon fals fikel tonge,A fendes biyete;Favel thorugh his faire specheHath this folk enchaunted,And al is Lieres ledynge,That she is thus y-wedded.

960

"And now worth this Mede y-maried

Unto amansedsherewe,

To oon fals fikel tonge,

A fendes biyete;

Favel thorugh his faire speche

Hath this folk enchaunted,

And al is Lieres ledynge,

That she is thus y-wedded.

"To-morwe worth y-makedThe maydenes bridale,970And there myghtow witen, if thow wilt,Whiche thei ben alleThat longen to that lordshipe,The lasse and the moore.Knowe hem there, if thow kanst,And kepe thow thi tonge,And lakke hem noght, but lat hem wortheTill leauté be justice,And have power to punysshe hem,Thanne put forth thi reson.980Now I bikenne thee Crist," quod she,"And his clene moder,And lat no conscience acombre theeFor coveitise of Mede."

"To-morwe worth y-maked

The maydenes bridale,

970

And there myghtow witen, if thow wilt,

Whiche thei ben alle

That longen to that lordshipe,

The lasse and the moore.

Knowe hem there, if thow kanst,

And kepe thow thi tonge,

And lakke hem noght, but lat hem worthe

Till leauté be justice,

And have power to punysshe hem,

Thanne put forth thi reson.

980

Now I bikenne thee Crist," quod she,

"And his clene moder,

And lat no conscience acombre thee

For coveitise of Mede."

Thus lefte me that ladyLiggynge a-slepe;And how Mede was y-mariedIn metels me thoughte,That al the riche retenaunceThat regneth with the false,990Were boden to the bridaleOn bothe two sides,Of alle manere of menThe meene and the riche;To marien this maydeWere many men assembled,As of knyghtes and of clerkes,And oother commune peple,As sisours and somonours,Sherreves and hire clerkes,1000Bedelles and baillifs,And brocours of chaffare,Forgoers and vitaillers,And advokettes of the arches;I kan noght rekene the routeThat ran aboute Mede.

Thus lefte me that lady

Liggynge a-slepe;

And how Mede was y-maried

In metels me thoughte,

That al the riche retenaunce

That regneth with the false,

990

Were boden to the bridale

On bothe two sides,

Of alle manere of men

The meene and the riche;

To marien this mayde

Were many men assembled,

As of knyghtes and of clerkes,

And oother commune peple,

As sisours and somonours,

Sherreves and hire clerkes,

1000

Bedelles and baillifs,

And brocours of chaffare,

Forgoers and vitaillers,

And advokettes of the arches;

I kan noght rekene the route

That ran aboute Mede.

Ac Symonie and Cyvylle,And sisours of courtes,Were moost pryvee with MedeOf any men, me thoughte.1010Ac Favel was the firsteThat fette hire out of boure,And as a brocour broughte hireTo be with Fals enjoyned.

Ac Symonie and Cyvylle,

And sisours of courtes,

Were moost pryvee with Mede

Of any men, me thoughte.

1010

Ac Favel was the firste

That fette hire out of boure,

And as a brocour broughte hire

To be with Fals enjoyned.

Whan Symonye and CyvylleSeighe hir bothe wille,Thei assented, for silver,To seye as bothe wolde.

Whan Symonye and Cyvylle

Seighe hir bothe wille,

Thei assented, for silver,

To seye as bothe wolde.

Thanne leep Liere forth, and seide,"Lo here a chartre!"1020That Gile with hise grete othesGaf hem togidere,And preide Cyvylle to see,And Symonye to rede it.

Thanne leep Liere forth, and seide,

"Lo here a chartre!"

1020

That Gile with hise grete othes

Gaf hem togidere,

And preide Cyvylle to see,

And Symonye to rede it.

Thanne Symonye and CyvylleStonden forth bothe,And unfoldeth the feffementThat Fals hath y-maked,And thus bigynnen thise gomesTo greden ful heighe:1030Sciant præsentes et futuri, etc.

Thanne Symonye and Cyvylle

Stonden forth bothe,

And unfoldeth the feffement

That Fals hath y-maked,

And thus bigynnen thise gomes

To greden ful heighe:

1030

Sciant præsentes et futuri, etc.

Witeth and witnesseth,That wonieth upon this erthe,That Mede is y-mariedMoore for hire goodesThan for any vertue or fairnesse,Or any free kynde.Falsnesse is fayn of hire,For he woot hire riche;And Favel with his fikel speche1040Feffeth by this chartre,To be princes in prideAnd poverte to despise,To bakbite and to bosten,And bere fals witnesse,To scorne and to scolde,And sclaundre to make,Unbuxome and boldeTo breke the ten hestes.

Witeth and witnesseth,

That wonieth upon this erthe,

That Mede is y-maried

Moore for hire goodes

Than for any vertue or fairnesse,

Or any free kynde.

Falsnesse is fayn of hire,

For he woot hire riche;

And Favel with his fikel speche

1040

Feffeth by this chartre,

To be princes in pride

And poverte to despise,

To bakbite and to bosten,

And bere fals witnesse,

To scorne and to scolde,

And sclaundre to make,

Unbuxome and bolde

To breke the ten hestes.

And the erldom of Envye1050And Wrathe togideres,With the chastilet of Cheste,And Chaterynge out of reson.

And the erldom of Envye

1050

And Wrathe togideres,

With the chastilet of Cheste,

And Chaterynge out of reson.

The countee of Coveitise,And alle the costes aboute,That is Usure and Avarice,Al I hem graunte,In bargaynes and in brocages,With al the burghe of Thefte,

The countee of Coveitise,

And alle the costes aboute,

That is Usure and Avarice,

Al I hem graunte,

In bargaynes and in brocages,

With al the burghe of Thefte,

And al the lordshipe of Leccherie1060In lengthe and in brede,As in werkes and in wordes,And in waitynges with eighes,And in wedes and in wisshynges,And with ydel thoughtes,There as wil woldeAnd werkmanshipe fayleth.

And al the lordshipe of Leccherie

1060

In lengthe and in brede,

As in werkes and in wordes,

And in waitynges with eighes,

And in wedes and in wisshynges,

And with ydel thoughtes,

There as wil wolde

And werkmanshipe fayleth.

Glotonye he gaf hem ek,And grete othes togidere,And al day to drynken1070At diverse tavernes,And there to jangle and jape,And jugge hir even cristen;And in fastynge dayes to freteEr ful tyme were,And thanne to sitten and soupenTil sleep hem assaille;And breden as burghe swyn,And bedden hem esily,Til sleuthe and sleep1080Sliken hise sydes,And thanne wanhope to awaken hem soWith no wil to amende,For he leveth be lost,This is hir laste ende.

Glotonye he gaf hem ek,

And grete othes togidere,

And al day to drynken

1070

At diverse tavernes,

And there to jangle and jape,

And jugge hir even cristen;

And in fastynge dayes to frete

Er ful tyme were,

And thanne to sitten and soupen

Til sleep hem assaille;

And breden as burghe swyn,

And bedden hem esily,

Til sleuthe and sleep

1080

Sliken hise sydes,

And thanne wanhope to awaken hem so

With no wil to amende,

For he leveth be lost,

This is hir laste ende.

And thei to have and to holde,And hire heires after,A dwellynge with the devel,And dampned be for evere,=With alle the appurtinaunces of purgatorie1091Into the pyne of helle.

And thei to have and to holde,

And hire heires after,

A dwellynge with the devel,

And dampned be for evere,

With alle the appurtinaunces of purgatorie

1091

Into the pyne of helle.

Yeldynge for this thyng,At one dayes tyme,Hire soules to Sathan,To suffre with hym peynes,And with hym to wonye with woWhile God is in hevene.

Yeldynge for this thyng,

At one dayes tyme,

Hire soules to Sathan,

To suffre with hym peynes,

And with hym to wonye with wo

While God is in hevene.

In witnesse of which thyng,Wrong was the firste,1100And Piers the pardonerOf Paulynes doctrine,Bette the bedelOf Bokyngham shire,Reynald the reveOf Rutland sokene,Maude the millere,And many mo othere.

In witnesse of which thyng,

Wrong was the firste,

1100

And Piers the pardoner

Of Paulynes doctrine,

Bette the bedel

Of Bokyngham shire,

Reynald the reve

Of Rutland sokene,

Maude the millere,

And many mo othere.

In the date of the develThis dede I ensele,1110By sighte of Sire SymonieAnd Cyvyles leeve.

In the date of the devel

This dede I ensele,

1110

By sighte of Sire Symonie

And Cyvyles leeve.

Thanne tened hym Theologie,Whan he this tale herde;And seide unto Cyvyle,"Now sorwe mote thow have,Swiche weddynges to werche,To wrathe with truthe;And er this weddynge be wroght,Wo thee bitide!

Thanne tened hym Theologie,

Whan he this tale herde;

And seide unto Cyvyle,

"Now sorwe mote thow have,

Swiche weddynges to werche,

To wrathe with truthe;

And er this weddynge be wroght,

Wo thee bitide!

1120"For Mede is muliereOf Amendes engendred,And God graunteth to gyveMede to Truthe;And thow hast gyven hire to a gilour;Now God gyve thee sorwe!Thi text telleth thee noght so,Truthe woot the sothe;ForDignus est operariusHis hire to have,1130And thow hast fest hire to Fals,Fy on thi lawe!For al bi lesynges thow lyvestAnd lecherouse werkes.Symonye and thiselfShenden holi chirche;The notaries and yeNoyen the peple;Ye shul a-biggen it bothe,By God that me made!

1120

"For Mede is muliere

Of Amendes engendred,

And God graunteth to gyve

Mede to Truthe;

And thow hast gyven hire to a gilour;

Now God gyve thee sorwe!

Thi text telleth thee noght so,

Truthe woot the sothe;

ForDignus est operarius

His hire to have,

1130

And thow hast fest hire to Fals,

Fy on thi lawe!

For al bi lesynges thow lyvest

And lecherouse werkes.

Symonye and thiself

Shenden holi chirche;

The notaries and ye

Noyen the peple;

Ye shul a-biggen it bothe,

By God that me made!

1140"Wel ye witen, wernardes,But if youre wit faille,That Fals is feithleesAnd fikel in hise werkes,And was a bastarde y-boreOf Belsabubbes kynne;And Mede is muliere,A maiden of goode,And myghte kisse the kyngFor cosyn, and she wolde.

1140

"Wel ye witen, wernardes,

But if youre wit faille,

That Fals is feithlees

And fikel in hise werkes,

And was a bastarde y-bore

Of Belsabubbes kynne;

And Mede is muliere,

A maiden of goode,

And myghte kisse the kyng

For cosyn, and she wolde.

1150"For-thi wercheth by wisdom,And by wit also;And ledeth hire to Londone,There it is y-shewed,If any lawe wol lokeThei ligge togideres;And though justices juggen hireTo be joyned to Fals,Yet be war of weddynge;For witty is Truthe,1160And Conscience is of his counseil,And knoweth yow echone,And if he fynde yow in defauteAnd with the false holde,It shal bi-sitte youre soulesFul soure at the laste."

1150

"For-thi wercheth by wisdom,

And by wit also;

And ledeth hire to Londone,

There it is y-shewed,

If any lawe wol loke

Thei ligge togideres;

And though justices juggen hire

To be joyned to Fals,

Yet be war of weddynge;

For witty is Truthe,

1160

And Conscience is of his counseil,

And knoweth yow echone,

And if he fynde yow in defaute

And with the false holde,

It shal bi-sitte youre soules

Ful soure at the laste."

Herto assenteth Cyvyle,Ac Symonye ne wolde,Til he hadde silver for his service,And also the notaries.

Herto assenteth Cyvyle,

Ac Symonye ne wolde,

Til he hadde silver for his service,

And also the notaries.

1170Thanne fette Favel forthFloryns ynowe,And bad Gile to gyvenGold al aboute,And namely to the notariesThat hem noon ne faille,And feffe false witnessesWith floryns ynowe,"For thei may Mede a-maistrye,And maken at my wille."

1170

Thanne fette Favel forth

Floryns ynowe,

And bad Gile to gyven

Gold al aboute,

And namely to the notaries

That hem noon ne faille,

And feffe false witnesses

With floryns ynowe,

"For thei may Mede a-maistrye,

And maken at my wille."

1180Tho this gold was y-gyve,Gret was the thonkyngTo Fals and to FavelFor hire faire giftes,And comen to confortenFrom care the false,And seiden, "Certes, sire,Cessen shul we nevere,Til Mede be thi wedded wifThorugh wittes of us alle;1190For we have Mede a-maistriedWith oure murie speche,That she graunteth to goon,With a good wille,To London, to lokenIf the lawe woldeJuggen yow joyntlyIn joie for evere."

1180

Tho this gold was y-gyve,

Gret was the thonkyng

To Fals and to Favel

For hire faire giftes,

And comen to conforten

From care the false,

And seiden, "Certes, sire,

Cessen shul we nevere,

Til Mede be thi wedded wif

Thorugh wittes of us alle;

1190

For we have Mede a-maistried

With oure murie speche,

That she graunteth to goon,

With a good wille,

To London, to loken

If the lawe wolde

Juggen yow joyntly

In joie for evere."

Thanne was Falsnesse fayn,And Favel as blithe,1200And leten somone alle seggesIn shires aboute,And bad hem alle be bown,Beggers and othere,To wenden with hemto WestmynstreTo witnesse this dede.

Thanne was Falsnesse fayn,

And Favel as blithe,

1200

And leten somone alle segges

In shires aboute,

And bad hem alle be bown,

Beggers and othere,

To wenden with hemto Westmynstre

To witnesse this dede.

Ac thanne cared thei for caplesTo carien hem thider,And Favel fette forth thanneFoles ynowe,1210And sette Mede upon a sherreveShoed al newe.

Ac thanne cared thei for caples

To carien hem thider,

And Favel fette forth thanne

Foles ynowe,

1210

And sette Mede upon a sherreve

Shoed al newe.

And Fals sat on a sisour,That softeli trotted;And Favel on a flaterereFetisly atired.

And Fals sat on a sisour,

That softeli trotted;

And Favel on a flaterere

Fetisly atired.

Tho hadde notaries none,Anoyed thei were,For Symonye and CyvylleSholde on hire feet gange.

Tho hadde notaries none,

Anoyed thei were,

For Symonye and Cyvylle

Sholde on hire feet gange.

1220Ac thanne swoor Symonye,And Cyvylle bothe,That somonours sholde be sadeledAnd serven hem echone,And late apparaille thise provisoursIn palfreyes wise,Sire Symonye hymselfShal sitte upon hir bakkes.

1220

Ac thanne swoor Symonye,

And Cyvylle bothe,

That somonours sholde be sadeled

And serven hem echone,

And late apparaille thise provisours

In palfreyes wise,

Sire Symonye hymself

Shal sitte upon hir bakkes.

"Denes and southdenes,Drawe yow togideres,1230Erchdekenes and officials,And alle youre registrers,Lat sadle hem with silverOure synne to suffre,As avoutrye and divorses,And derne usurie,To bere bisshopes abouteA-brood in visitynge.

"Denes and southdenes,

Drawe yow togideres,

1230

Erchdekenes and officials,

And alle youre registrers,

Lat sadle hem with silver

Oure synne to suffre,

As avoutrye and divorses,

And derne usurie,

To bere bisshopes aboute

A-brood in visitynge.

"Paulynes pryveesFor pleintes in consistorie,1240Shul serven myselfThat Cyvyle is nempned.

"Paulynes pryvees

For pleintes in consistorie,

1240

Shul serven myself

That Cyvyle is nempned.

"And cart-sadle the commissarie,Oure cart shal he lede,And fecchen us vitailles.AtFornicatores.And maketh of Lyere a lang cartTo leden alle thise othere,As freres and faitours,That on hire feet rennen."

"And cart-sadle the commissarie,

Oure cart shal he lede,

And fecchen us vitailles.

AtFornicatores.

And maketh of Lyere a lang cart

To leden alle thise othere,

As freres and faitours,

That on hire feet rennen."

1250And thus Fals and FavelFareth forth togideres,And Mede in the middes,And alle thise men after.

1250

And thus Fals and Favel

Fareth forth togideres,

And Mede in the middes,

And alle thise men after.

I have no tome to telleThe tail that hire folwed;Ac Gyle was for-goer,And gyed hem alle.

I have no tome to telle

The tail that hire folwed;

Ac Gyle was for-goer,

And gyed hem alle.

Sothnesse seigh hem wel,And seide but litel,1260And priked his palfrey,And passed hem alle,And com to the kynges court,And Conscience it tolde;And Conscience to the kyngCarped it after.

Sothnesse seigh hem wel,

And seide but litel,

1260

And priked his palfrey,

And passed hem alle,

And com to the kynges court,

And Conscience it tolde;

And Conscience to the kyng

Carped it after.

"Now, by Crist," quod the kyng,"And I cacche myghteFals or Favel,Or any of hise feeris,1270I wolde be wroken of tho wrecchesThat wercheth so ille,And doon hem hange by the hals,And alle that hem maynteneth;Shal nevere man of this moldeMeynprise the leeste,But right as the lawe wol loke,Lat falle on hem alle."

"Now, by Crist," quod the kyng,

"And I cacche myghte

Fals or Favel,

Or any of hise feeris,

1270

I wolde be wroken of tho wrecches

That wercheth so ille,

And doon hem hange by the hals,

And alle that hem maynteneth;

Shal nevere man of this molde

Meynprise the leeste,

But right as the lawe wol loke,

Lat falle on hem alle."

And comaunded a constableThat com at the firste,1280To attachen tho tyrauntz,"For any thyng I hote,And fettreth faste Falsnesse,For any kynnes giftes,And girdeth of Gyles heed,And lat hym go no ferther;And if ye lacche Lyere,Lat hym noght ascapenEr he be put on the pillory,For any preyere, I hote;1290And bryngeth Mede to meMaugree hem alle."

And comaunded a constable

That com at the firste,

1280

To attachen tho tyrauntz,

"For any thyng I hote,

And fettreth faste Falsnesse,

For any kynnes giftes,

And girdeth of Gyles heed,

And lat hym go no ferther;

And if ye lacche Lyere,

Lat hym noght ascapen

Er he be put on the pillory,

For any preyere, I hote;

1290

And bryngeth Mede to me

Maugree hem alle."

Drede at the dore stood,And the doom herde,And how the kyng comaundedConstables and sergeauntzFalsnesse and his felawshipeTo fettren and to bynden.

Drede at the dore stood,

And the doom herde,

And how the kyng comaunded

Constables and sergeauntz

Falsnesse and his felawshipe

To fettren and to bynden.

Thanne Drede wente wyghtliche,And warned the False,1300And bad hym fle for fere,And hise felawes alle.

Thanne Drede wente wyghtliche,

And warned the False,

1300

And bad hym fle for fere,

And hise felawes alle.

Falsnesse for fere thanneFleigh to the ffreres,And Gyle dooth hym to go,A-gast for to dye;Ac marchauntz metten with hymAnd made hym abide,And bi-shetten hym in hire shoppesTo shewen hire ware,1310Apparailed hym as apprenticeThe peple to serve.

Falsnesse for fere thanne

Fleigh to the ffreres,

And Gyle dooth hym to go,

A-gast for to dye;

Ac marchauntz metten with hym

And made hym abide,

And bi-shetten hym in hire shoppes

To shewen hire ware,

1310

Apparailed hym as apprentice

The peple to serve.

Lightliche LyereLeep awey thanne,Lurkynge thorugh lanes,To-lugged of manye.He was nowher welcome,For his manye tales,Over al y-honted,And y-hote trusse,1320Til pardoners hadde pité,And pulled hym into house.They wesshen hym and wiped hym.And wounden hym in cloutes,And senten hym with selesOn Sondayes to chirches,And yeven pardoun for pensPounde-mele aboute.

Lightliche Lyere

Leep awey thanne,

Lurkynge thorugh lanes,

To-lugged of manye.

He was nowher welcome,

For his manye tales,

Over al y-honted,

And y-hote trusse,

1320

Til pardoners hadde pité,

And pulled hym into house.

They wesshen hym and wiped hym.

And wounden hym in cloutes,

And senten hym with seles

On Sondayes to chirches,

And yeven pardoun for pens

Pounde-mele aboute.

Thanne lourede leches,And lettres thei sente,1330That he sholde wonye with hemWatres to loke.

Thanne lourede leches,

And lettres thei sente,

1330

That he sholde wonye with hem

Watres to loke.

Spycers speken with hym,To spien hire ware;For he kouthe of hir craft,And knewe manye gommes.

Spycers speken with hym,

To spien hire ware;

For he kouthe of hir craft,

And knewe manye gommes.

And mynstrales and messagersMette with hym ones,And helden hym an half-yeerAnd ellevene dayes.

And mynstrales and messagers

Mette with hym ones,

And helden hym an half-yeer

And ellevene dayes.

1340Freres with fair specheFetten hym pennes,And for knowynge of comeresCoped hym as a frere;Ac he hath leve to lepen out,As ofte as hym liketh,And is welcome whan he wile,And woneth with hem ofte.

1340

Freres with fair speche

Fetten hym pennes,

And for knowynge of comeres

Coped hym as a frere;

Ac he hath leve to lepen out,

As ofte as hym liketh,

And is welcome whan he wile,

And woneth with hem ofte.

Alle fledden for fere,And flowen into hernes;1350Save Mede the mayde,Na-mo dorste abide.Ac trewely to telle,She trembled for drede,And ek wepte and wrong,1355Whan she was attached.

Alle fledden for fere,

And flowen into hernes;

1350

Save Mede the mayde,

Na-mo dorste abide.

Ac trewely to telle,

She trembled for drede,

And ek wepte and wrong,

1355

Whan she was attached.

Filler.

Passus Tertius de Visione, ut supra.N1356OW is Mede the mayde,And na-mo of hem alle,With bedeles and with bailliesBrought bifore the kyng.1360The kyng called a clerk,Kan I noght his name,To take Mede the maideAnd maken hire at ese."I shal assayen hire myself,And soothliche appose,What man of this mooldeThat hire were levest.And if she werche bi wit,And my wil folwe,1370I wol forgyven hire this gilt,So me God helpe!"Curteisly the clerk thanne,As the kyng highte,Took Mede bi the myddelAnd broghte hire into chambre;And ther was murthe and mynstralcie,Mede to plese.=They that wonyeth in Westmynstre1380Worshipeth hire alle,Gentilliche with joye;The justices sommeBusked hem to the bourTher the burde dwellede,To conforten hire kyndely,By clergies leve;And seiden, "Mourne noght, Mede,Ne make thow no sorwe;For we wol wisse the kyng,1390And thi wey shape,To be wedded at thi wille,And wher thee leef liketh,For al Consciences castOr craft, as I trowe."Mildely Mede thanneMerciede hem alleOf hire grete goodnesse,And gaf hem echoneCoupes of clene gold,1400And coppes of silver,Rynges with rubies,And richesses manye;The leeste man of hire meyneeA moton of golde.Than laughte thei leveThise lordes at Mede.With that comen clerkesTo conforten hire the same,And beden hire be blithe;1410"For we beth thyne owene,For to werche thi wille,The while thow myght laste."Hendiliche heo thanneBi-highte hem the same,To loven hem lelly,And lordes to make,And in the consistorie at the courtDo callen hire names;"Shal no lewednesse lette1420The leode that I lovye,That he ne worth first avaunced;For I am bi-knowen,There konnynge clerkesShul clokke bi-hynde."Thanne cam ther a confessour,Coped as a frere;To Mede the maydeHe meved thise wordes,And seide ful softely,1430In shrift as it were,"Theigh lewed men and lered menHadde leyen by thee bothe,And Falsnesse hadde y-folwed theeAlle thise fifty wynter,I shal assoille thee myselfFor a seem of whete,And also be thi bedeman,And bere wel thi messageAmonges knyghtes and clerkes,1440Conscience to torne."Thanne Mede for hire mysdedesTo that man kneled,And shrof hire of hire sherewednesse,Shamelees, I trowe;Tolde hym a tale,And took hym a noble,For to ben hire bedemanAnd hire brocour als.Thanne he assoiled hire soone,1450And sithen he seide,"We have a wyndow in werchyngeWole sitten us ful hye,Woldestow glaze that gableAnd grave therinne thy name,Syker sholde thi soule beHevene to have.""Wiste I that," quod that womman,"I wolde noght spareFor to be youre frend, frere,1460And faile yow nevere,While ye love lordesThat lecherie haunten,And lakketh noght ladiesThat loven wel the same.It is freletee of flesshe,Ye fynden it in bokes,And a cours of kyndeWherof we comen alle.Who may scape sclaundre,1470The scathe is soone amended;It is synne of the seveneSonnest relessed."Have mercy," quod Mede,"Of men that it haunteth,And I shal covere youre kirk,Youre cloistre do maken,Wowes do whiten,And wyndowes glazen,Do peynten and portraye,1480And paie for the makynge,That every segge shal seyeI am suster of youre house."Ac God to alle good folkSwich gravynge defendeth,To writen in wyndowesOf hir wel dedes,An aventure pride be peynted there,And pomp of the world;For Crist knoweth thi conscience,1490And thi kynde wille,And thi cost and thi coveitise,And who the catel oughte.For-thi I lere yow, lordes,Leveth swiche werkes;To writen in wyndowesOf youre wel dedes,Or to greden after Goddes menWhan ye dele doles,On aventure ye have youre hire here,1500And youre hevene als.Nesciat sinistra quid faciat dextra.Lat noght thi left halfLate ne ratheWite what thow werchestWith thi right syde;For thus by the gospelGoode men doon hir almesse.Maires and maceres,That menes ben bitwene1510The kyng and the comuneTo kepe the lawes,To punysshe on pilloriesAnd pynynge-stooles,Brewesters and baksters,Bochiers and cokes,For thise are men on this moldeThat moost harm werchethTo the povere pepleThat percel-mele buggen;1520For thei enpoisone the peplePryveliche and ofte,Thei richen thorugh regratrie,And rentes hem biggen,With that the povere pepleSholde putte in hire wombe.For toke thei on trewely,Thei tymbred nought so heighe,Ne boughte none burgages,Be ye ful certeyne.1530Ac Mede the maydeThe mair hath bi-soughtOf alle swiche sellerisSilver to take,Or presentz withouten pens,As pieces of silver,Rynges or oother richesse,The regratiers to mayntene;"For my love," quod that lady,"Love hem echone,1540And suffre hem to selleSom del ayeins reson."Salomon the sageA sermon he made,For to amenden mairesAnd men that kepen lawes;And tolde hem this teme,That I telle thynke,Ignis devorabit tabernacula eorumqui libenter accipiunt munera,1550etc.Among thise lettrede leodesThis Latyn is to mene,That fir shal falle and brenneAl to bloo askesThe houses and homesOf hem that desirethYiftes or yeres-yevesBy cause of hire offices.The kyng fro the conseil cam,1560And called after Mede,And of sente hire as switheWith sergeauntz manye,And broughte hire to boureWith blisse and with joye.Curteisly the kyng thanneComsed to telle,To Mede the maydeHe meveth thise wordes,"Unwittily, womman,1570Wroght hastow ofte,Ac worse wroghtestow nevereThan tho thow Fals toke.But I forgyve thee that gilt,And graunte thee my grace;Hennes to thi deeth dayDo so na-moore."I have a knyght Conscience,Cam late fro biyonde;If he wilneth thee to wif,1580Wiltow hym have?""Ye, lord," quod that lady,"Lord forbede it ellis!But I be holly at youre heste,Lat hange me soone."And thanne was Conscience calledTo come and appereBifore the kyng and his conseil,As clerkes and othere.Knelynge Conscience1590To the kyng louted,To wite what his wille were,And what he do wolde."Woltow wedde this womman," quod the kyng,"If I wole assente?For she is fayn of thi felaweshipe,For to be thi make."Quod Conscience to the kyng,"Crist it me forbede!Er I wedde swich a wif,1600Wo me bitide!For she is frele of hire feith,Fikel of hire speche,And maketh men mysdoMany score tymes;Trust of hire tresorBitrayeth ful manye."Wyves and widewesWantonnes she techeth,And lereth hem lecherie1610That loveth hire giftes.Youre fader she felledThorugh false biheste,And hath enpoisoned popes,And peired holy chirche.Is noght a bettre baude,By hym that me made!Bitwene hevene and helle,In erthe though men soughte.For she is tikel of hire tail,1620And tale-wis of hire tonge;As commune as a cartweyTo ech a knave that walketh,To monkes, to mynstrales,To meseles in hegges."Sisours and somonours,Swiche men hire preiseth;Sherreves of shiresWere shent if she ne were;For she dooth men lese hire lond1630And hire lif bothe;She leteth passe prisoners,And paieth for hem ofte,And gyveth the gailers goldAnd grotes togidres,To unfettre the falsFle where hym liketh;And taketh the trewe bi the topAnd tieth hem faste,And hangeth hem for hatrede1640That harm dide nevere."To be corsed in consistorieShe counteth noght a bene;For she copeth the commissarie,And coteth hise clerkes.She is assoiled as sooneAs hireself liketh;And may neigh as muche doIn a monthe one,As youre secret seel1650In sixe score dayes.For she is pryvee with the pope,Provisoursit knoweth;For sire Symonie and hirselveSeleth hire bulles."She blesseth thise bisshopes,Theigh thei be lewed;Provendreth persones,And preestes maynteneth,To have lemmans and lotebies1660Alle hire lif daies,And bryngeth forth barnesAyein forbode lawes.Ther she is wel with the kyng,Wo is the reaume;For she is favourable to fals,And de-fouleth truthe ofte."By Jhesus! with hire jewelesYoure justices she shendeth,And lith ayein the lawe,1670And letteth hym the gate,That feith may noght have his forth,Hire floryns go so thikke.She ledeth the lawe as hire list,And love-daies maketh,And doth men lese thorugh hire love,That lawe myghte wynneThe maze for a mene man,Though he mote hire evere.Lawe is so lordlich1680And looth to maken ende,Withouten presentz or pensShe pleseth wel fewe."Barons and burgeisesShe bryngeth in sorwe,And al the comune in careThat coveiten lyve in truthe;For clergie and coveitiseShe coupleth togidres.This is the lif of that lady;1690Now Lord gyve hire sorwe!And alle that maynteneth hire men,Meschaunce hem bitide!For povere men may have no powerTo pleyne hem, though thei smerte.Swich a maister is MedeAmong men of goode."Thanne mournede Mede,And mened hire to the kyngeTo have space to speke,1700Spede if she myghte.The kyng graunted hire grace,With a good wille,"Excuse thee, if thow kanst;I kan na-moore seggen.For Conscience accuseth thee,To congeien thee for evere.""Nay, lord," quod that lady,"Leveth hym the werse,Whan ye witen witterly1710Wher the wrong liggeth.Ther that meschief is gret,Mede may helpe.And thow knowest, Conscience,I kam noght to chideNe deprave thi persone,With a proud herte.Wel thow woost, wernarde,But if thow wolt gabbe,Thow hast hanged on myn half1720Ellevene tymes,And also griped my gold,Gyve it where thee liked;And whi thow wrathest thee now,Wonder me thynketh.Yet I may as I myghteMenske thee with giftes,And mayntene thi manhodeMoore than thow knowest."Ac thow hast famed me foule1730Bifore the kyng here;For killed I nevere no kyngNe counseiled therafter,Ne dide as thow demestI do it on the kynge."In Normandiewas he noghtNoyed for my sake;Ac thow thiself soothlyShamedest hym ofte,Crope into a cabane1740For cold of thi nayles,Wendest that wynterWolde han y-lasted evere,And dreddest to be dedFor a dym cloude,And hyedest homwardFor hunger of thi wombe."Withouten pité, pilour,Povere men thow robbedest;And bere hire bras at thi bak1750To Caleisto selle,Ther I lafte with my lord,His lif for to save.I made his men murye,And mournynge lette;I batred hem on the bak,And boldede hire hertes,And dide hem hoppe for hopeTo have me at wille.Hadde I ben marchal of his men,1760By Marie of hevene!I dorste have leyd my lif,And no lasse wedde,He sholde have be lord of that londIn lengthe and in brede,And also kyng of that kithHis kyn for to helpe,The leeste brol of his bloodA barones piere."Cowardly thow, Conscience,1770Conseiledest hym thennes,To leven his lordshipeFor a litel silver,That is the richeste reaumeThat reyn over-hoveth."It bi-cometh to a kyngThat kepeth a reaume,To yeve mede to men,That mekely hym serveth,To aliens and to alle men,1780To honouren hem with giftes;Mede maketh hym bi-lovedAnd for a man holden."Emperours and erles,And alle manere lordes,For giftes han yonge menTo renne and to ryde."The pope and alle the prelatesPresentz underfongen,And medeth men hemselven1790To mayntene hir lawes."Sergeauntz for hire servyce,We seeth wel the sothe,Taken mede of hir maistres,As thei mowe acorde."Beggeres for hir biddynge,Bidden men mede."Mynstrales for hir myrthe,Mede thei aske."The kyng hath mede of his men,1800To make pees in londe."Men that teche children,Craven after mede."Preestes that prechen the pepleTo goode, asken mede,And massepens and hire meteAt the meel-tymes."Alle kynne craftes menCraven mede for hir prentices."Marchauntz and Mede1810Mote nede go togideres.No wight, as I wene,Withouten mede may libbe."Quod the kyng to Conscience,"By Crist! as me thynketh,Mede is well worthiThe maistrie to have.""Nay," quod Conscience to the kyng,And kneled to the erthe,"Ther are two manere of medes,1820My lord, with youre leve."That oon God of his graceGraunteth in his blisseTo tho that wel werchen,While thei ben here;The prophete precheth therof,And putte it in the Sauter,=Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo?"Lord, who shal wonye in thi wones,1830And with thyne holy seintes,Or resten in thyne holy hilles?This asketh David;And David assoileth it hymself,As the Sauter telleth.=Qui ingreditur sine macula et operatur justitiam."Tho that entren of o colour,And of one wille,And han y-wroght werkes1840With right and with reson;And he that useth noghtThe lyf of usurie,And enformeth povere men,And pursueth truthe.Qui pecuniam suam non dedit ad=usuram, et munera super innoc. etc."And alle that helpen the innocent,And holden with the rightfulle,1850Withouten mede doth hem good,And the truthe helpeth,Swiche manere men, my lord,Shul have this firste medeOf God at a gret nede,Whan thei gon hennes."Ther is another mede mesurelees,That maistres desireth,To mayntene mysdoersMede thei take,1860And therof seith the SauterIn a salmes ende,In quorum manibus iniquitatessunt, dextra eorum repleta estmuneribus."And he that gripeth hir gold,So me God helpe!Shal abien it bittre,Or the book lieth."Preestes and persons1870That plesynge desireth,That taken mede and moneieFor masses that thei syngeth,Taken hire mede here,As Mathew us techeth.=Amen, Amen, recipiebant mercede suam."That laborers and lowe folkTaken of hire maistres,It is no manere mede,1880But a mesurable hire."In marchaundise is no mede,I may it wel avowe,It is a permutacion apertly,A penyworth for another."Ac reddestow nevereRegum?Thow recrayed Mede,Whi the vengeaunce felOn Saul and on his children?God sente to Saul1890By Samuel the prophete,That Agag of Amalec,And al his peple after,Sholden deye for a dedeThat doon hadde hire eldres."For-thi seide Samuel to Saul,'God hymself hotethThee be buxom at his biddynge,His wil to fulfille;Weend to Amalec with thyn oost,1900And what thow fyndest there sle it,Burnes and beestesBren hem to dethe,Widwes and wyves,Wommen and children,Moebles and un-moebles,And al thow myght fynde,Bren it, bere it noght awey,Be it never so riche,For mede ne for monee,1910Loke thow destruye it,Spille it and spare it noght,Thow shalt spede the bettre.'"And for he coveited hir catel,And the kyng spared,Forbar hym and his beestes bothe,As the Bible witnesseth,Oother wise than he wasWarned of the prophete,God seide to Samuel1920That Saul sholde deye,And al his seed for that synneShenfulliche ende.Swich a meschief Mede madeSaul the kyng to have,That God hated hym for evere,And alle hise heires after."The culorum of this casKepe I noght to telle,On aventure it noyed men,1930Noon ende wol I make,For so is this world wentWith hem that han power,That who so seith hem sothestIs sonnest y-blamed."Conscience knowe this,For kynde wit it me taughte,That Reson shal regneAnd reaumes governe,And right as Agag hadde,1940Happe shul somme,Samuel shal sleen hym,And Saul shal be blamed,And David shal be diademed,And daunten hem alle;And oon cristene kyngKepen hem alle.Shal na-moore MedeBe maister, as she is nouthe;Ac love and lowenesse1950And leautee togideres,Thise shul ben maistres on moolde,Truthe to save."And who so trespaseth ayein truthe,Or taketh ayein his wille,Leauté shal don hym lawe,And no lif ellis;Shall no sergeaunt for his serviceWere a silk howve,Ne no pelure in his cloke1960For pledynge at the barre.Mede of mysdoeresMaketh manye lordes,And over lordes lawesRuleth the reaumes."Ac kynde love shal come yit,And conscience togideres,And make of lawe a laborer;Swich love shal arise,And swich a pees among the peple,1970And a perfit truthe,That Jewes shul wene in hire wit,And wexen wonder glade,That Moyses or MessieBe come into this erthe,And have wonder in hire hertesThat men beth so trewe."Alle that beren baselarde,Brood swerd or launce,Ax outher hachet,1980Or any wepene ellis,Shal be demed to the deeth,But if he do it smythyeInto sikel or to sithe,To shaar or to kultour;=Conflabunt gladios suos in vomeres, etc."Ech man to pleye with a plow,Pykoise or spade,Spynne or sprede donge,1990Or spille hymself with sleuthe."Preestes and personsWithPlaceboto hunte,And dyngen upon DavidEche day til eve.Huntynge or haukyngeIf any of hem use,His boost of his beneficeWorth by-nomen hym after.Shal neither kyng ne knyght,2000Constable ne meire,Overlede the commune,Ne to the court sompne,Ne putte hem in panelTo doon hem plighte hir truthe;But after the dede that is doonOon doom shal rewarde,Mercy or no mercy,As truthe wole acorde."Kynges court and commune court,2010Consistorie and chapitle,Al shal be but oon court,And oon baron be justice.Thanne worth Trewe-tonge a tidy manThat tened me nevere;Batailles shul none be,Ne no man bere wepene;And what smyth that any smytheth,Be smyte therwith to dethe.Non levabit gens contra gentem2020gladium, etc."And er this fortune falle,Fynde men shul the worste,By sixe sonnes and a shipe,And half a shef of arwes,And the myddel of a moone,Shal make the Jewes to torne,And Sarzynes for that sighteShul syngeGloria in excelsis, etc.For Makometh and Mede2030Mys-happe shul that tyme,=Formelius est bonum nomen quam divitiæ multæ."Al so wroth as the wyndWeex Mede in a while,"I kan no Latyn," quod she,"Clerkes wite the sothe;Se what Salomon seithIn Sapience bokes,That thei that gyven giftes2040The victorie wynneth,And moost worshipe hadde therwithAs holy writ telleth:=Honorem adquiret qui dat munera, etc."Leve wel, lady," quod Conscience,"That thi Latyn be trewe;Ac thow art lik a ladyThat radde a lesson ones,Wasomnia probate,2050And that plesed hire herte;For that lyne was no lengerAt the leves ende.Hadde she loked that oother half,And the leef torned,She sholde have founden fele wordesFolwynge therafter,Quod bonum est tenete;Truthe that text made.And so ferde ye, madame,2060Ye kouthe na-moore fynde,Tho ye loked on SapienceSittynge in youre studie.This text that ye han toldWere good for lordes;Ac yow fayled a konnynge clerkThat kouthe the leef han torned.And if ye seche Sapience eft,Fynde shul ye that folweth,A ful teneful text2070To hem that taketh mede;=And that isanimam autem aufert accipientium, etc.,And that is the tail of the text;Of that that she shewed,That theigh we wynne worshipe,And with mede have victorie,The soule that the sonde taketh2078By so muche is bounde."

Passus Tertius de Visione, ut supra.

N1356OW is Mede the mayde,And na-mo of hem alle,With bedeles and with bailliesBrought bifore the kyng.

N1356

1356

OW is Mede the mayde,

And na-mo of hem alle,

With bedeles and with baillies

Brought bifore the kyng.

1360The kyng called a clerk,Kan I noght his name,To take Mede the maideAnd maken hire at ese."I shal assayen hire myself,And soothliche appose,What man of this mooldeThat hire were levest.And if she werche bi wit,And my wil folwe,1370I wol forgyven hire this gilt,So me God helpe!"

1360

The kyng called a clerk,

Kan I noght his name,

To take Mede the maide

And maken hire at ese.

"I shal assayen hire myself,

And soothliche appose,

What man of this moolde

That hire were levest.

And if she werche bi wit,

And my wil folwe,

1370

I wol forgyven hire this gilt,

So me God helpe!"

Curteisly the clerk thanne,As the kyng highte,Took Mede bi the myddelAnd broghte hire into chambre;And ther was murthe and mynstralcie,Mede to plese.

Curteisly the clerk thanne,

As the kyng highte,

Took Mede bi the myddel

And broghte hire into chambre;

And ther was murthe and mynstralcie,

Mede to plese.

=They that wonyeth in Westmynstre1380Worshipeth hire alle,Gentilliche with joye;The justices sommeBusked hem to the bourTher the burde dwellede,To conforten hire kyndely,By clergies leve;And seiden, "Mourne noght, Mede,Ne make thow no sorwe;For we wol wisse the kyng,1390And thi wey shape,To be wedded at thi wille,And wher thee leef liketh,For al Consciences castOr craft, as I trowe."

They that wonyeth in Westmynstre

1380

Worshipeth hire alle,

Gentilliche with joye;

The justices somme

Busked hem to the bour

Ther the burde dwellede,

To conforten hire kyndely,

By clergies leve;

And seiden, "Mourne noght, Mede,

Ne make thow no sorwe;

For we wol wisse the kyng,

1390

And thi wey shape,

To be wedded at thi wille,

And wher thee leef liketh,

For al Consciences cast

Or craft, as I trowe."

Mildely Mede thanneMerciede hem alleOf hire grete goodnesse,And gaf hem echoneCoupes of clene gold,1400And coppes of silver,Rynges with rubies,And richesses manye;The leeste man of hire meyneeA moton of golde.Than laughte thei leveThise lordes at Mede.

Mildely Mede thanne

Merciede hem alle

Of hire grete goodnesse,

And gaf hem echone

Coupes of clene gold,

1400

And coppes of silver,

Rynges with rubies,

And richesses manye;

The leeste man of hire meynee

A moton of golde.

Than laughte thei leve

Thise lordes at Mede.

With that comen clerkesTo conforten hire the same,And beden hire be blithe;1410"For we beth thyne owene,For to werche thi wille,The while thow myght laste."

With that comen clerkes

To conforten hire the same,

And beden hire be blithe;

1410

"For we beth thyne owene,

For to werche thi wille,

The while thow myght laste."

Hendiliche heo thanneBi-highte hem the same,To loven hem lelly,And lordes to make,And in the consistorie at the courtDo callen hire names;"Shal no lewednesse lette1420The leode that I lovye,That he ne worth first avaunced;For I am bi-knowen,There konnynge clerkesShul clokke bi-hynde."

Hendiliche heo thanne

Bi-highte hem the same,

To loven hem lelly,

And lordes to make,

And in the consistorie at the court

Do callen hire names;

"Shal no lewednesse lette

1420

The leode that I lovye,

That he ne worth first avaunced;

For I am bi-knowen,

There konnynge clerkes

Shul clokke bi-hynde."

Thanne cam ther a confessour,Coped as a frere;To Mede the maydeHe meved thise wordes,And seide ful softely,1430In shrift as it were,"Theigh lewed men and lered menHadde leyen by thee bothe,And Falsnesse hadde y-folwed theeAlle thise fifty wynter,I shal assoille thee myselfFor a seem of whete,And also be thi bedeman,And bere wel thi messageAmonges knyghtes and clerkes,1440Conscience to torne."

Thanne cam ther a confessour,

Coped as a frere;

To Mede the mayde

He meved thise wordes,

And seide ful softely,

1430

In shrift as it were,

"Theigh lewed men and lered men

Hadde leyen by thee bothe,

And Falsnesse hadde y-folwed thee

Alle thise fifty wynter,

I shal assoille thee myself

For a seem of whete,

And also be thi bedeman,

And bere wel thi message

Amonges knyghtes and clerkes,

1440

Conscience to torne."

Thanne Mede for hire mysdedesTo that man kneled,And shrof hire of hire sherewednesse,Shamelees, I trowe;Tolde hym a tale,And took hym a noble,For to ben hire bedemanAnd hire brocour als.

Thanne Mede for hire mysdedes

To that man kneled,

And shrof hire of hire sherewednesse,

Shamelees, I trowe;

Tolde hym a tale,

And took hym a noble,

For to ben hire bedeman

And hire brocour als.

Thanne he assoiled hire soone,1450And sithen he seide,"We have a wyndow in werchyngeWole sitten us ful hye,Woldestow glaze that gableAnd grave therinne thy name,Syker sholde thi soule beHevene to have."

Thanne he assoiled hire soone,

1450

And sithen he seide,

"We have a wyndow in werchynge

Wole sitten us ful hye,

Woldestow glaze that gable

And grave therinne thy name,

Syker sholde thi soule be

Hevene to have."

"Wiste I that," quod that womman,"I wolde noght spareFor to be youre frend, frere,1460And faile yow nevere,While ye love lordesThat lecherie haunten,And lakketh noght ladiesThat loven wel the same.It is freletee of flesshe,Ye fynden it in bokes,And a cours of kyndeWherof we comen alle.Who may scape sclaundre,1470The scathe is soone amended;It is synne of the seveneSonnest relessed.

"Wiste I that," quod that womman,

"I wolde noght spare

For to be youre frend, frere,

1460

And faile yow nevere,

While ye love lordes

That lecherie haunten,

And lakketh noght ladies

That loven wel the same.

It is freletee of flesshe,

Ye fynden it in bokes,

And a cours of kynde

Wherof we comen alle.

Who may scape sclaundre,

1470

The scathe is soone amended;

It is synne of the sevene

Sonnest relessed.

"Have mercy," quod Mede,"Of men that it haunteth,And I shal covere youre kirk,Youre cloistre do maken,Wowes do whiten,And wyndowes glazen,Do peynten and portraye,1480And paie for the makynge,That every segge shal seyeI am suster of youre house."

"Have mercy," quod Mede,

"Of men that it haunteth,

And I shal covere youre kirk,

Youre cloistre do maken,

Wowes do whiten,

And wyndowes glazen,

Do peynten and portraye,

1480

And paie for the makynge,

That every segge shal seye

I am suster of youre house."

Ac God to alle good folkSwich gravynge defendeth,To writen in wyndowesOf hir wel dedes,An aventure pride be peynted there,And pomp of the world;For Crist knoweth thi conscience,1490And thi kynde wille,And thi cost and thi coveitise,And who the catel oughte.

Ac God to alle good folk

Swich gravynge defendeth,

To writen in wyndowes

Of hir wel dedes,

An aventure pride be peynted there,

And pomp of the world;

For Crist knoweth thi conscience,

1490

And thi kynde wille,

And thi cost and thi coveitise,

And who the catel oughte.

For-thi I lere yow, lordes,Leveth swiche werkes;To writen in wyndowesOf youre wel dedes,Or to greden after Goddes menWhan ye dele doles,On aventure ye have youre hire here,1500And youre hevene als.Nesciat sinistra quid faciat dextra.

For-thi I lere yow, lordes,

Leveth swiche werkes;

To writen in wyndowes

Of youre wel dedes,

Or to greden after Goddes men

Whan ye dele doles,

On aventure ye have youre hire here,

1500

And youre hevene als.

Nesciat sinistra quid faciat dextra.

Lat noght thi left halfLate ne ratheWite what thow werchestWith thi right syde;For thus by the gospelGoode men doon hir almesse.

Lat noght thi left half

Late ne rathe

Wite what thow werchest

With thi right syde;

For thus by the gospel

Goode men doon hir almesse.

Maires and maceres,That menes ben bitwene1510The kyng and the comuneTo kepe the lawes,To punysshe on pilloriesAnd pynynge-stooles,Brewesters and baksters,Bochiers and cokes,For thise are men on this moldeThat moost harm werchethTo the povere pepleThat percel-mele buggen;1520For thei enpoisone the peplePryveliche and ofte,Thei richen thorugh regratrie,And rentes hem biggen,With that the povere pepleSholde putte in hire wombe.For toke thei on trewely,Thei tymbred nought so heighe,Ne boughte none burgages,Be ye ful certeyne.

Maires and maceres,

That menes ben bitwene

1510

The kyng and the comune

To kepe the lawes,

To punysshe on pillories

And pynynge-stooles,

Brewesters and baksters,

Bochiers and cokes,

For thise are men on this molde

That moost harm wercheth

To the povere peple

That percel-mele buggen;

1520

For thei enpoisone the peple

Pryveliche and ofte,

Thei richen thorugh regratrie,

And rentes hem biggen,

With that the povere peple

Sholde putte in hire wombe.

For toke thei on trewely,

Thei tymbred nought so heighe,

Ne boughte none burgages,

Be ye ful certeyne.

1530Ac Mede the maydeThe mair hath bi-soughtOf alle swiche sellerisSilver to take,Or presentz withouten pens,As pieces of silver,Rynges or oother richesse,The regratiers to mayntene;"For my love," quod that lady,"Love hem echone,1540And suffre hem to selleSom del ayeins reson."

1530

Ac Mede the mayde

The mair hath bi-sought

Of alle swiche selleris

Silver to take,

Or presentz withouten pens,

As pieces of silver,

Rynges or oother richesse,

The regratiers to mayntene;

"For my love," quod that lady,

"Love hem echone,

1540

And suffre hem to selle

Som del ayeins reson."

Salomon the sageA sermon he made,For to amenden mairesAnd men that kepen lawes;And tolde hem this teme,That I telle thynke,Ignis devorabit tabernacula eorumqui libenter accipiunt munera,1550etc.

Salomon the sage

A sermon he made,

For to amenden maires

And men that kepen lawes;

And tolde hem this teme,

That I telle thynke,

Ignis devorabit tabernacula eorum

qui libenter accipiunt munera,

1550

etc.

Among thise lettrede leodesThis Latyn is to mene,That fir shal falle and brenneAl to bloo askesThe houses and homesOf hem that desirethYiftes or yeres-yevesBy cause of hire offices.

Among thise lettrede leodes

This Latyn is to mene,

That fir shal falle and brenne

Al to bloo askes

The houses and homes

Of hem that desireth

Yiftes or yeres-yeves

By cause of hire offices.

The kyng fro the conseil cam,1560And called after Mede,And of sente hire as switheWith sergeauntz manye,And broughte hire to boureWith blisse and with joye.

The kyng fro the conseil cam,

1560

And called after Mede,

And of sente hire as swithe

With sergeauntz manye,

And broughte hire to boure

With blisse and with joye.

Curteisly the kyng thanneComsed to telle,To Mede the maydeHe meveth thise wordes,"Unwittily, womman,1570Wroght hastow ofte,Ac worse wroghtestow nevereThan tho thow Fals toke.But I forgyve thee that gilt,And graunte thee my grace;Hennes to thi deeth dayDo so na-moore.

Curteisly the kyng thanne

Comsed to telle,

To Mede the mayde

He meveth thise wordes,

"Unwittily, womman,

1570

Wroght hastow ofte,

Ac worse wroghtestow nevere

Than tho thow Fals toke.

But I forgyve thee that gilt,

And graunte thee my grace;

Hennes to thi deeth day

Do so na-moore.

"I have a knyght Conscience,Cam late fro biyonde;If he wilneth thee to wif,1580Wiltow hym have?"

"I have a knyght Conscience,

Cam late fro biyonde;

If he wilneth thee to wif,

1580

Wiltow hym have?"

"Ye, lord," quod that lady,"Lord forbede it ellis!But I be holly at youre heste,Lat hange me soone."

"Ye, lord," quod that lady,

"Lord forbede it ellis!

But I be holly at youre heste,

Lat hange me soone."

And thanne was Conscience calledTo come and appereBifore the kyng and his conseil,As clerkes and othere.

And thanne was Conscience called

To come and appere

Bifore the kyng and his conseil,

As clerkes and othere.

Knelynge Conscience1590To the kyng louted,To wite what his wille were,And what he do wolde.

Knelynge Conscience

1590

To the kyng louted,

To wite what his wille were,

And what he do wolde.

"Woltow wedde this womman," quod the kyng,"If I wole assente?For she is fayn of thi felaweshipe,For to be thi make."

"Woltow wedde this womman," quod the kyng,

"If I wole assente?

For she is fayn of thi felaweshipe,

For to be thi make."

Quod Conscience to the kyng,"Crist it me forbede!Er I wedde swich a wif,1600Wo me bitide!For she is frele of hire feith,Fikel of hire speche,And maketh men mysdoMany score tymes;Trust of hire tresorBitrayeth ful manye.

Quod Conscience to the kyng,

"Crist it me forbede!

Er I wedde swich a wif,

1600

Wo me bitide!

For she is frele of hire feith,

Fikel of hire speche,

And maketh men mysdo

Many score tymes;

Trust of hire tresor

Bitrayeth ful manye.

"Wyves and widewesWantonnes she techeth,And lereth hem lecherie1610That loveth hire giftes.Youre fader she felledThorugh false biheste,And hath enpoisoned popes,And peired holy chirche.Is noght a bettre baude,By hym that me made!Bitwene hevene and helle,In erthe though men soughte.For she is tikel of hire tail,1620And tale-wis of hire tonge;As commune as a cartweyTo ech a knave that walketh,To monkes, to mynstrales,To meseles in hegges.

"Wyves and widewes

Wantonnes she techeth,

And lereth hem lecherie

1610

That loveth hire giftes.

Youre fader she felled

Thorugh false biheste,

And hath enpoisoned popes,

And peired holy chirche.

Is noght a bettre baude,

By hym that me made!

Bitwene hevene and helle,

In erthe though men soughte.

For she is tikel of hire tail,

1620

And tale-wis of hire tonge;

As commune as a cartwey

To ech a knave that walketh,

To monkes, to mynstrales,

To meseles in hegges.

"Sisours and somonours,Swiche men hire preiseth;Sherreves of shiresWere shent if she ne were;For she dooth men lese hire lond1630And hire lif bothe;She leteth passe prisoners,And paieth for hem ofte,And gyveth the gailers goldAnd grotes togidres,To unfettre the falsFle where hym liketh;And taketh the trewe bi the topAnd tieth hem faste,And hangeth hem for hatrede1640That harm dide nevere.

"Sisours and somonours,

Swiche men hire preiseth;

Sherreves of shires

Were shent if she ne were;

For she dooth men lese hire lond

1630

And hire lif bothe;

She leteth passe prisoners,

And paieth for hem ofte,

And gyveth the gailers gold

And grotes togidres,

To unfettre the fals

Fle where hym liketh;

And taketh the trewe bi the top

And tieth hem faste,

And hangeth hem for hatrede

1640

That harm dide nevere.

"To be corsed in consistorieShe counteth noght a bene;For she copeth the commissarie,And coteth hise clerkes.She is assoiled as sooneAs hireself liketh;And may neigh as muche doIn a monthe one,As youre secret seel1650In sixe score dayes.For she is pryvee with the pope,Provisoursit knoweth;For sire Symonie and hirselveSeleth hire bulles.

"To be corsed in consistorie

She counteth noght a bene;

For she copeth the commissarie,

And coteth hise clerkes.

She is assoiled as soone

As hireself liketh;

And may neigh as muche do

In a monthe one,

As youre secret seel

1650

In sixe score dayes.

For she is pryvee with the pope,

Provisoursit knoweth;

For sire Symonie and hirselve

Seleth hire bulles.

"She blesseth thise bisshopes,Theigh thei be lewed;Provendreth persones,And preestes maynteneth,To have lemmans and lotebies1660Alle hire lif daies,And bryngeth forth barnesAyein forbode lawes.Ther she is wel with the kyng,Wo is the reaume;For she is favourable to fals,And de-fouleth truthe ofte.

"She blesseth thise bisshopes,

Theigh thei be lewed;

Provendreth persones,

And preestes maynteneth,

To have lemmans and lotebies

1660

Alle hire lif daies,

And bryngeth forth barnes

Ayein forbode lawes.

Ther she is wel with the kyng,

Wo is the reaume;

For she is favourable to fals,

And de-fouleth truthe ofte.

"By Jhesus! with hire jewelesYoure justices she shendeth,And lith ayein the lawe,1670And letteth hym the gate,That feith may noght have his forth,Hire floryns go so thikke.She ledeth the lawe as hire list,And love-daies maketh,And doth men lese thorugh hire love,That lawe myghte wynneThe maze for a mene man,Though he mote hire evere.Lawe is so lordlich1680And looth to maken ende,Withouten presentz or pensShe pleseth wel fewe.

"By Jhesus! with hire jeweles

Youre justices she shendeth,

And lith ayein the lawe,

1670

And letteth hym the gate,

That feith may noght have his forth,

Hire floryns go so thikke.

She ledeth the lawe as hire list,

And love-daies maketh,

And doth men lese thorugh hire love,

That lawe myghte wynne

The maze for a mene man,

Though he mote hire evere.

Lawe is so lordlich

1680

And looth to maken ende,

Withouten presentz or pens

She pleseth wel fewe.

"Barons and burgeisesShe bryngeth in sorwe,And al the comune in careThat coveiten lyve in truthe;For clergie and coveitiseShe coupleth togidres.This is the lif of that lady;1690Now Lord gyve hire sorwe!And alle that maynteneth hire men,Meschaunce hem bitide!For povere men may have no powerTo pleyne hem, though thei smerte.Swich a maister is MedeAmong men of goode."

"Barons and burgeises

She bryngeth in sorwe,

And al the comune in care

That coveiten lyve in truthe;

For clergie and coveitise

She coupleth togidres.

This is the lif of that lady;

1690

Now Lord gyve hire sorwe!

And alle that maynteneth hire men,

Meschaunce hem bitide!

For povere men may have no power

To pleyne hem, though thei smerte.

Swich a maister is Mede

Among men of goode."

Thanne mournede Mede,And mened hire to the kyngeTo have space to speke,1700Spede if she myghte.

Thanne mournede Mede,

And mened hire to the kynge

To have space to speke,

1700

Spede if she myghte.

The kyng graunted hire grace,With a good wille,"Excuse thee, if thow kanst;I kan na-moore seggen.For Conscience accuseth thee,To congeien thee for evere."

The kyng graunted hire grace,

With a good wille,

"Excuse thee, if thow kanst;

I kan na-moore seggen.

For Conscience accuseth thee,

To congeien thee for evere."

"Nay, lord," quod that lady,"Leveth hym the werse,Whan ye witen witterly1710Wher the wrong liggeth.Ther that meschief is gret,Mede may helpe.And thow knowest, Conscience,I kam noght to chideNe deprave thi persone,With a proud herte.Wel thow woost, wernarde,But if thow wolt gabbe,Thow hast hanged on myn half1720Ellevene tymes,And also griped my gold,Gyve it where thee liked;And whi thow wrathest thee now,Wonder me thynketh.Yet I may as I myghteMenske thee with giftes,And mayntene thi manhodeMoore than thow knowest.

"Nay, lord," quod that lady,

"Leveth hym the werse,

Whan ye witen witterly

1710

Wher the wrong liggeth.

Ther that meschief is gret,

Mede may helpe.

And thow knowest, Conscience,

I kam noght to chide

Ne deprave thi persone,

With a proud herte.

Wel thow woost, wernarde,

But if thow wolt gabbe,

Thow hast hanged on myn half

1720

Ellevene tymes,

And also griped my gold,

Gyve it where thee liked;

And whi thow wrathest thee now,

Wonder me thynketh.

Yet I may as I myghte

Menske thee with giftes,

And mayntene thi manhode

Moore than thow knowest.

"Ac thow hast famed me foule1730Bifore the kyng here;For killed I nevere no kyngNe counseiled therafter,Ne dide as thow demestI do it on the kynge.

"Ac thow hast famed me foule

1730

Bifore the kyng here;

For killed I nevere no kyng

Ne counseiled therafter,

Ne dide as thow demest

I do it on the kynge.

"In Normandiewas he noghtNoyed for my sake;Ac thow thiself soothlyShamedest hym ofte,Crope into a cabane1740For cold of thi nayles,Wendest that wynterWolde han y-lasted evere,And dreddest to be dedFor a dym cloude,And hyedest homwardFor hunger of thi wombe.

"In Normandiewas he noght

Noyed for my sake;

Ac thow thiself soothly

Shamedest hym ofte,

Crope into a cabane

1740

For cold of thi nayles,

Wendest that wynter

Wolde han y-lasted evere,

And dreddest to be ded

For a dym cloude,

And hyedest homward

For hunger of thi wombe.

"Withouten pité, pilour,Povere men thow robbedest;And bere hire bras at thi bak1750To Caleisto selle,Ther I lafte with my lord,His lif for to save.I made his men murye,And mournynge lette;I batred hem on the bak,And boldede hire hertes,And dide hem hoppe for hopeTo have me at wille.Hadde I ben marchal of his men,1760By Marie of hevene!I dorste have leyd my lif,And no lasse wedde,He sholde have be lord of that londIn lengthe and in brede,And also kyng of that kithHis kyn for to helpe,The leeste brol of his bloodA barones piere.

"Withouten pité, pilour,

Povere men thow robbedest;

And bere hire bras at thi bak

1750

To Caleisto selle,

Ther I lafte with my lord,

His lif for to save.

I made his men murye,

And mournynge lette;

I batred hem on the bak,

And boldede hire hertes,

And dide hem hoppe for hope

To have me at wille.

Hadde I ben marchal of his men,

1760

By Marie of hevene!

I dorste have leyd my lif,

And no lasse wedde,

He sholde have be lord of that lond

In lengthe and in brede,

And also kyng of that kith

His kyn for to helpe,

The leeste brol of his blood

A barones piere.

"Cowardly thow, Conscience,1770Conseiledest hym thennes,To leven his lordshipeFor a litel silver,That is the richeste reaumeThat reyn over-hoveth.

"Cowardly thow, Conscience,

1770

Conseiledest hym thennes,

To leven his lordshipe

For a litel silver,

That is the richeste reaume

That reyn over-hoveth.

"It bi-cometh to a kyngThat kepeth a reaume,To yeve mede to men,That mekely hym serveth,To aliens and to alle men,1780To honouren hem with giftes;Mede maketh hym bi-lovedAnd for a man holden.

"It bi-cometh to a kyng

That kepeth a reaume,

To yeve mede to men,

That mekely hym serveth,

To aliens and to alle men,

1780

To honouren hem with giftes;

Mede maketh hym bi-loved

And for a man holden.

"Emperours and erles,And alle manere lordes,For giftes han yonge menTo renne and to ryde.

"Emperours and erles,

And alle manere lordes,

For giftes han yonge men

To renne and to ryde.

"The pope and alle the prelatesPresentz underfongen,And medeth men hemselven1790To mayntene hir lawes.

"The pope and alle the prelates

Presentz underfongen,

And medeth men hemselven

1790

To mayntene hir lawes.

"Sergeauntz for hire servyce,We seeth wel the sothe,Taken mede of hir maistres,As thei mowe acorde.

"Sergeauntz for hire servyce,

We seeth wel the sothe,

Taken mede of hir maistres,

As thei mowe acorde.

"Beggeres for hir biddynge,Bidden men mede.

"Beggeres for hir biddynge,

Bidden men mede.

"Mynstrales for hir myrthe,Mede thei aske.

"Mynstrales for hir myrthe,

Mede thei aske.

"The kyng hath mede of his men,1800To make pees in londe.

"The kyng hath mede of his men,

1800

To make pees in londe.

"Men that teche children,Craven after mede.

"Men that teche children,

Craven after mede.

"Preestes that prechen the pepleTo goode, asken mede,And massepens and hire meteAt the meel-tymes.

"Preestes that prechen the peple

To goode, asken mede,

And massepens and hire mete

At the meel-tymes.

"Alle kynne craftes menCraven mede for hir prentices.

"Alle kynne craftes men

Craven mede for hir prentices.

"Marchauntz and Mede1810Mote nede go togideres.No wight, as I wene,Withouten mede may libbe."

"Marchauntz and Mede

1810

Mote nede go togideres.

No wight, as I wene,

Withouten mede may libbe."

Quod the kyng to Conscience,"By Crist! as me thynketh,Mede is well worthiThe maistrie to have."

Quod the kyng to Conscience,

"By Crist! as me thynketh,

Mede is well worthi

The maistrie to have."

"Nay," quod Conscience to the kyng,And kneled to the erthe,"Ther are two manere of medes,1820My lord, with youre leve.

"Nay," quod Conscience to the kyng,

And kneled to the erthe,

"Ther are two manere of medes,

1820

My lord, with youre leve.

"That oon God of his graceGraunteth in his blisseTo tho that wel werchen,While thei ben here;The prophete precheth therof,And putte it in the Sauter,=Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo?

"That oon God of his grace

Graunteth in his blisse

To tho that wel werchen,

While thei ben here;

The prophete precheth therof,

And putte it in the Sauter,

Domine, quis habitabit in tabernaculo tuo?

"Lord, who shal wonye in thi wones,1830And with thyne holy seintes,Or resten in thyne holy hilles?This asketh David;And David assoileth it hymself,As the Sauter telleth.=Qui ingreditur sine macula et operatur justitiam.

"Lord, who shal wonye in thi wones,

1830

And with thyne holy seintes,

Or resten in thyne holy hilles?

This asketh David;

And David assoileth it hymself,

As the Sauter telleth.

Qui ingreditur sine macula et operatur justitiam.

"Tho that entren of o colour,And of one wille,And han y-wroght werkes1840With right and with reson;And he that useth noghtThe lyf of usurie,And enformeth povere men,And pursueth truthe.Qui pecuniam suam non dedit ad=usuram, et munera super innoc. etc.

"Tho that entren of o colour,

And of one wille,

And han y-wroght werkes

1840

With right and with reson;

And he that useth noght

The lyf of usurie,

And enformeth povere men,

And pursueth truthe.

Qui pecuniam suam non dedit ad

usuram, et munera super innoc. etc.

"And alle that helpen the innocent,And holden with the rightfulle,1850Withouten mede doth hem good,And the truthe helpeth,Swiche manere men, my lord,Shul have this firste medeOf God at a gret nede,Whan thei gon hennes.

"And alle that helpen the innocent,

And holden with the rightfulle,

1850

Withouten mede doth hem good,

And the truthe helpeth,

Swiche manere men, my lord,

Shul have this firste mede

Of God at a gret nede,

Whan thei gon hennes.

"Ther is another mede mesurelees,That maistres desireth,To mayntene mysdoersMede thei take,1860And therof seith the SauterIn a salmes ende,In quorum manibus iniquitatessunt, dextra eorum repleta estmuneribus.

"Ther is another mede mesurelees,

That maistres desireth,

To mayntene mysdoers

Mede thei take,

1860

And therof seith the Sauter

In a salmes ende,

In quorum manibus iniquitates

sunt, dextra eorum repleta est

muneribus.

"And he that gripeth hir gold,So me God helpe!Shal abien it bittre,Or the book lieth.

"And he that gripeth hir gold,

So me God helpe!

Shal abien it bittre,

Or the book lieth.

"Preestes and persons1870That plesynge desireth,That taken mede and moneieFor masses that thei syngeth,Taken hire mede here,As Mathew us techeth.=Amen, Amen, recipiebant mercede suam.

"Preestes and persons

1870

That plesynge desireth,

That taken mede and moneie

For masses that thei syngeth,

Taken hire mede here,

As Mathew us techeth.

Amen, Amen, recipiebant mercede suam.

"That laborers and lowe folkTaken of hire maistres,It is no manere mede,1880But a mesurable hire.

"That laborers and lowe folk

Taken of hire maistres,

It is no manere mede,

1880

But a mesurable hire.

"In marchaundise is no mede,I may it wel avowe,It is a permutacion apertly,A penyworth for another.

"In marchaundise is no mede,

I may it wel avowe,

It is a permutacion apertly,

A penyworth for another.

"Ac reddestow nevereRegum?Thow recrayed Mede,Whi the vengeaunce felOn Saul and on his children?God sente to Saul1890By Samuel the prophete,That Agag of Amalec,And al his peple after,Sholden deye for a dedeThat doon hadde hire eldres.

"Ac reddestow nevereRegum?

Thow recrayed Mede,

Whi the vengeaunce fel

On Saul and on his children?

God sente to Saul

1890

By Samuel the prophete,

That Agag of Amalec,

And al his peple after,

Sholden deye for a dede

That doon hadde hire eldres.

"For-thi seide Samuel to Saul,'God hymself hotethThee be buxom at his biddynge,His wil to fulfille;Weend to Amalec with thyn oost,1900And what thow fyndest there sle it,Burnes and beestesBren hem to dethe,Widwes and wyves,Wommen and children,Moebles and un-moebles,And al thow myght fynde,Bren it, bere it noght awey,Be it never so riche,For mede ne for monee,1910Loke thow destruye it,Spille it and spare it noght,Thow shalt spede the bettre.'

"For-thi seide Samuel to Saul,

'God hymself hoteth

Thee be buxom at his biddynge,

His wil to fulfille;

Weend to Amalec with thyn oost,

1900

And what thow fyndest there sle it,

Burnes and beestes

Bren hem to dethe,

Widwes and wyves,

Wommen and children,

Moebles and un-moebles,

And al thow myght fynde,

Bren it, bere it noght awey,

Be it never so riche,

For mede ne for monee,

1910

Loke thow destruye it,

Spille it and spare it noght,

Thow shalt spede the bettre.'

"And for he coveited hir catel,And the kyng spared,Forbar hym and his beestes bothe,As the Bible witnesseth,Oother wise than he wasWarned of the prophete,God seide to Samuel1920That Saul sholde deye,And al his seed for that synneShenfulliche ende.Swich a meschief Mede madeSaul the kyng to have,That God hated hym for evere,And alle hise heires after.

"And for he coveited hir catel,

And the kyng spared,

Forbar hym and his beestes bothe,

As the Bible witnesseth,

Oother wise than he was

Warned of the prophete,

God seide to Samuel

1920

That Saul sholde deye,

And al his seed for that synne

Shenfulliche ende.

Swich a meschief Mede made

Saul the kyng to have,

That God hated hym for evere,

And alle hise heires after.

"The culorum of this casKepe I noght to telle,On aventure it noyed men,1930Noon ende wol I make,For so is this world wentWith hem that han power,That who so seith hem sothestIs sonnest y-blamed.

"The culorum of this cas

Kepe I noght to telle,

On aventure it noyed men,

1930

Noon ende wol I make,

For so is this world went

With hem that han power,

That who so seith hem sothest

Is sonnest y-blamed.

"Conscience knowe this,For kynde wit it me taughte,That Reson shal regneAnd reaumes governe,And right as Agag hadde,1940Happe shul somme,Samuel shal sleen hym,And Saul shal be blamed,And David shal be diademed,And daunten hem alle;And oon cristene kyngKepen hem alle.Shal na-moore MedeBe maister, as she is nouthe;Ac love and lowenesse1950And leautee togideres,Thise shul ben maistres on moolde,Truthe to save.

"Conscience knowe this,

For kynde wit it me taughte,

That Reson shal regne

And reaumes governe,

And right as Agag hadde,

1940

Happe shul somme,

Samuel shal sleen hym,

And Saul shal be blamed,

And David shal be diademed,

And daunten hem alle;

And oon cristene kyng

Kepen hem alle.

Shal na-moore Mede

Be maister, as she is nouthe;

Ac love and lowenesse

1950

And leautee togideres,

Thise shul ben maistres on moolde,

Truthe to save.

"And who so trespaseth ayein truthe,Or taketh ayein his wille,Leauté shal don hym lawe,And no lif ellis;Shall no sergeaunt for his serviceWere a silk howve,Ne no pelure in his cloke1960For pledynge at the barre.Mede of mysdoeresMaketh manye lordes,And over lordes lawesRuleth the reaumes.

"And who so trespaseth ayein truthe,

Or taketh ayein his wille,

Leauté shal don hym lawe,

And no lif ellis;

Shall no sergeaunt for his service

Were a silk howve,

Ne no pelure in his cloke

1960

For pledynge at the barre.

Mede of mysdoeres

Maketh manye lordes,

And over lordes lawes

Ruleth the reaumes.

"Ac kynde love shal come yit,And conscience togideres,And make of lawe a laborer;Swich love shal arise,And swich a pees among the peple,1970And a perfit truthe,That Jewes shul wene in hire wit,And wexen wonder glade,That Moyses or MessieBe come into this erthe,And have wonder in hire hertesThat men beth so trewe.

"Ac kynde love shal come yit,

And conscience togideres,

And make of lawe a laborer;

Swich love shal arise,

And swich a pees among the peple,

1970

And a perfit truthe,

That Jewes shul wene in hire wit,

And wexen wonder glade,

That Moyses or Messie

Be come into this erthe,

And have wonder in hire hertes

That men beth so trewe.

"Alle that beren baselarde,Brood swerd or launce,Ax outher hachet,1980Or any wepene ellis,Shal be demed to the deeth,But if he do it smythyeInto sikel or to sithe,To shaar or to kultour;=Conflabunt gladios suos in vomeres, etc.

"Alle that beren baselarde,

Brood swerd or launce,

Ax outher hachet,

1980

Or any wepene ellis,

Shal be demed to the deeth,

But if he do it smythye

Into sikel or to sithe,

To shaar or to kultour;

Conflabunt gladios suos in vomeres, etc.

"Ech man to pleye with a plow,Pykoise or spade,Spynne or sprede donge,1990Or spille hymself with sleuthe.

"Ech man to pleye with a plow,

Pykoise or spade,

Spynne or sprede donge,

1990

Or spille hymself with sleuthe.

"Preestes and personsWithPlaceboto hunte,And dyngen upon DavidEche day til eve.Huntynge or haukyngeIf any of hem use,His boost of his beneficeWorth by-nomen hym after.Shal neither kyng ne knyght,2000Constable ne meire,Overlede the commune,Ne to the court sompne,Ne putte hem in panelTo doon hem plighte hir truthe;But after the dede that is doonOon doom shal rewarde,Mercy or no mercy,As truthe wole acorde.

"Preestes and persons

WithPlaceboto hunte,

And dyngen upon David

Eche day til eve.

Huntynge or haukynge

If any of hem use,

His boost of his benefice

Worth by-nomen hym after.

Shal neither kyng ne knyght,

2000

Constable ne meire,

Overlede the commune,

Ne to the court sompne,

Ne putte hem in panel

To doon hem plighte hir truthe;

But after the dede that is doon

Oon doom shal rewarde,

Mercy or no mercy,

As truthe wole acorde.

"Kynges court and commune court,2010Consistorie and chapitle,Al shal be but oon court,And oon baron be justice.Thanne worth Trewe-tonge a tidy manThat tened me nevere;Batailles shul none be,Ne no man bere wepene;And what smyth that any smytheth,Be smyte therwith to dethe.Non levabit gens contra gentem2020gladium, etc.

"Kynges court and commune court,

2010

Consistorie and chapitle,

Al shal be but oon court,

And oon baron be justice.

Thanne worth Trewe-tonge a tidy man

That tened me nevere;

Batailles shul none be,

Ne no man bere wepene;

And what smyth that any smytheth,

Be smyte therwith to dethe.

Non levabit gens contra gentem

2020

gladium, etc.

"And er this fortune falle,Fynde men shul the worste,By sixe sonnes and a shipe,And half a shef of arwes,And the myddel of a moone,Shal make the Jewes to torne,And Sarzynes for that sighteShul syngeGloria in excelsis, etc.For Makometh and Mede2030Mys-happe shul that tyme,=Formelius est bonum nomen quam divitiæ multæ."

"And er this fortune falle,

Fynde men shul the worste,

By sixe sonnes and a shipe,

And half a shef of arwes,

And the myddel of a moone,

Shal make the Jewes to torne,

And Sarzynes for that sighte

Shul syngeGloria in excelsis, etc.

For Makometh and Mede

2030

Mys-happe shul that tyme,

Formelius est bonum nomen quam divitiæ multæ."

Al so wroth as the wyndWeex Mede in a while,"I kan no Latyn," quod she,"Clerkes wite the sothe;Se what Salomon seithIn Sapience bokes,That thei that gyven giftes2040The victorie wynneth,And moost worshipe hadde therwithAs holy writ telleth:=Honorem adquiret qui dat munera, etc.

Al so wroth as the wynd

Weex Mede in a while,

"I kan no Latyn," quod she,

"Clerkes wite the sothe;

Se what Salomon seith

In Sapience bokes,

That thei that gyven giftes

2040

The victorie wynneth,

And moost worshipe hadde therwith

As holy writ telleth:

Honorem adquiret qui dat munera, etc.

"Leve wel, lady," quod Conscience,"That thi Latyn be trewe;Ac thow art lik a ladyThat radde a lesson ones,Wasomnia probate,2050And that plesed hire herte;For that lyne was no lengerAt the leves ende.Hadde she loked that oother half,And the leef torned,She sholde have founden fele wordesFolwynge therafter,Quod bonum est tenete;Truthe that text made.And so ferde ye, madame,2060Ye kouthe na-moore fynde,Tho ye loked on SapienceSittynge in youre studie.This text that ye han toldWere good for lordes;Ac yow fayled a konnynge clerkThat kouthe the leef han torned.And if ye seche Sapience eft,Fynde shul ye that folweth,A ful teneful text2070To hem that taketh mede;=And that isanimam autem aufert accipientium, etc.,And that is the tail of the text;Of that that she shewed,That theigh we wynne worshipe,And with mede have victorie,The soule that the sonde taketh2078By so muche is bounde."

"Leve wel, lady," quod Conscience,

"That thi Latyn be trewe;

Ac thow art lik a lady

That radde a lesson ones,

Wasomnia probate,

2050

And that plesed hire herte;

For that lyne was no lenger

At the leves ende.

Hadde she loked that oother half,

And the leef torned,

She sholde have founden fele wordes

Folwynge therafter,

Quod bonum est tenete;

Truthe that text made.

And so ferde ye, madame,

2060

Ye kouthe na-moore fynde,

Tho ye loked on Sapience

Sittynge in youre studie.

This text that ye han told

Were good for lordes;

Ac yow fayled a konnynge clerk

That kouthe the leef han torned.

And if ye seche Sapience eft,

Fynde shul ye that folweth,

A ful teneful text

2070

To hem that taketh mede;

And that isanimam autem aufert accipientium, etc.,

And that is the tail of the text;

Of that that she shewed,

That theigh we wynne worshipe,

And with mede have victorie,

The soule that the sonde taketh

2078

By so muche is bounde."

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