Somnia ne cures, nam mens humana quod optans,Dum vigilat, sperat, per somnum cernit id ipsum.
Somnia ne cures, nam mens humana quod optans,Dum vigilat, sperat, per somnum cernit id ipsum.
Somnia ne cures, nam mens humana quod optans,
Dum vigilat, sperat, per somnum cernit id ipsum.
4847. Matth. xvi, 19.
4941. Prov. xxiv, 16. Septies enim cadet justus,et resurget; impii autem corruent in malum.
4963.To falle and to stonde.I by no means agree with Price's interpretation of this phrase, or in his preference of the readingto falle if he stonde. (Note on Warton ii, 67.) The motion of the boat causes the firm man alternately to fall and stand; be he ever so stable, he stumbles now and then, but his strength is shown in his being able to recover himself. Such are the moral slips which even the just man cannot avoid. But if the man in the boat be too weak to arise again and place himself at the helm, his boat and himself will be lost for want of strength and guidance. So it is with the wicked man. The completion of the phrase quoted from Proverbs, as given in the preceding note, shows the justice of this explanation.
5014.if I may lyve and loke.Price (in Warton) first pointed out the identity between this expression and the one so common in Homer: it is "one of those primitive figures which are common to the poetry of every country."
Οὔτις, ἐμεῦ ζῶντος καὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ δερκομένοιο,Σὸι κοίλῃς παρὰ νηυσί βαρείας χεῖρας ἐποίσει.Il. i, 88.
Οὔτις, ἐμεῦ ζῶντος καὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ δερκομένοιο,Σὸι κοίλῃς παρὰ νηυσί βαρείας χεῖρας ἐποίσει.Il. i, 88.
Οὔτις, ἐμεῦ ζῶντος καὶ ἐπὶ χθονὶ δερκομένοιο,
Σὸι κοίλῃς παρὰ νηυσί βαρείας χεῖρας ἐποίσει.
Il. i, 88.
Whitaker's interpretation is nonsense, "If I have space to live and look in the book." Other instances of this phrase occur in ll.12132,13268, and13303of Piers Ploughman.
5082. 2 Corinth. xi, 19.
5157.of four kynnes thynges.The medieval notion of the manner in which the elements were mixed together in the formation of the human body, here alluded to, appears to partake more of Western legend than of Eastern tradition. In the English verses on Popular Science (given in my "Popular Treatises of Science written during the Middle Ages," p. 138), we have the following curious account of the four things forming the body, and the influence of each:—
Man hath of urthe al his bodi, of water he haveth wete,Of eyr he haveth wynd, of fur he haveth hete.Ech quic thing of alle this foure, of some hath more other lasse;Ho so haveth of urthe most, he is slou as an asse;Of vad colour, of hard hide, boustes forme, and ded strong,Of moche thoght, of lute speche, of stille grounynge, and wraththe long,A slough wrecche and ferblet, fast and loth to geve his god,Sone old, and noght wilful, stable and stedefast of mode.
Man hath of urthe al his bodi, of water he haveth wete,Of eyr he haveth wynd, of fur he haveth hete.Ech quic thing of alle this foure, of some hath more other lasse;Ho so haveth of urthe most, he is slou as an asse;Of vad colour, of hard hide, boustes forme, and ded strong,Of moche thoght, of lute speche, of stille grounynge, and wraththe long,A slough wrecche and ferblet, fast and loth to geve his god,Sone old, and noght wilful, stable and stedefast of mode.
Man hath of urthe al his bodi, of water he haveth wete,
Of eyr he haveth wynd, of fur he haveth hete.
Ech quic thing of alle this foure, of some hath more other lasse;
Ho so haveth of urthe most, he is slou as an asse;
Of vad colour, of hard hide, boustes forme, and ded strong,
Of moche thoght, of lute speche, of stille grounynge, and wraththe long,
A slough wrecche and ferblet, fast and loth to geve his god,
Sone old, and noght wilful, stable and stedefast of mode.
And so on with the other elements. This doctrine of the composition of man from the four elements became a very popular one in the sixteenth century, when the poets frequently allude to it, as may be seen in the examples given by Nares (v.Elements). In theMirror for Magistrates(King Forrex, page 76), it is said:—
If we behold the substance of a man,How he is made ofelementsby kind,Of earth, of water, aire, and fire, thanWe would full often call unto our mind,That all our earthly joys we leave behind.
If we behold the substance of a man,How he is made ofelementsby kind,Of earth, of water, aire, and fire, thanWe would full often call unto our mind,That all our earthly joys we leave behind.
If we behold the substance of a man,
How he is made ofelementsby kind,
Of earth, of water, aire, and fire, than
We would full often call unto our mind,
That all our earthly joys we leave behind.
Massinger (Renegadoiii, 2) says:—
——I've heardSchoolmen affirm, man's body is compos'dOfthe four elements.
——I've heardSchoolmen affirm, man's body is compos'dOfthe four elements.
——I've heard
Schoolmen affirm, man's body is compos'd
Ofthe four elements.
In Shakespeare (Twel. N.ii, 3), Sir Toby Belch inquires, "Does not our life consist ofthe four elements?" and Brutus is commended for possessing these elements properly blended, in which the perfection of a man's nature was supposed to consist:—
His life was gentle; and theelementsSo mix'd in him, that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, Thiswas a man.Jul. Cæs.v, 5.
His life was gentle; and theelementsSo mix'd in him, that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, Thiswas a man.Jul. Cæs.v, 5.
His life was gentle; and theelements
So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, Thiswas a man.
Jul. Cæs.v, 5.
On the other hand, the ill mixing of these elements was supposed to be accompanied with a corresponding derangement of the intellectual faculties. Thus, in one of the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher, a madman is addressed:—
I prithee, thoufour elementsill brew'dTorment none but thyself: Away, I say,Thou beast of passion.B. and Fl. Nice Valour, act i, p. 312.
I prithee, thoufour elementsill brew'dTorment none but thyself: Away, I say,Thou beast of passion.B. and Fl. Nice Valour, act i, p. 312.
I prithee, thoufour elementsill brew'd
Torment none but thyself: Away, I say,
Thou beast of passion.
B. and Fl. Nice Valour, act i, p. 312.
The more mythic form of this legend giveseight thingsto the formation of the body, instead of four. Our earliest notice of this legend in England occurs in the prose Anglo-Saxon Dialogue between Saturn and Solomon (Thorpe's Analecta, p. 95):—"Saga me þæt andworc þe Adám wæs of-ge-worht se ærusta man? Ic þe secge of viii punda ge-wihte. Saga me hwæt hatton þage? Ic þe secge þæt æroste wæs fóldan pund, of ðam him wæs flesc ge-worht; oðer wæs fyres pund, þanon him wæs þæt blód reád and hát; þridde wæs windes pund, þanon him wæs seo æðung ge-seald; feorðe wæs wolcnes pund, þanon him wæs his módes unstaðelfæstnes ge-seald; fifte wæs gyfe pund, þanon him wæs ge-seald se fat and geðang; syxste wæs blostnena pund, þanon him wæs eagena myssenlicnys ge-seald; seofoðe wæs deawes pund, þanon him becom swat; eahtothe wæs sealtes pund, þanon him wæron þa tearas sealte."—Tell me the matter of which Adam the first man was made? I tell thee, of eight pound-weights. Tell me their names? I tell thee, the first was a pound of earth, of which his flesh was made; the second was a pound of fire, from which his blood was red and hot; the third was a pound of wind, of which breath was given him; the fourth was a pound of cloud, whereof was given him his instability of mood; the fifth was a pound of ..., whereof was given him fat and sinew; the sixth was a pound of flowers, whereof was given him diversity of eyes; the seventh was a pound of dew, whereof he had sweat; the eighth was a pound of salt, whereof he had salt tears.This legend was still prevalent in England as late as the fifteenth century, when we find it among the curious collection of questions (closely resembling those of Saturn and Solomon just quoted) entitled "Questions bitwene the Maister of Oxinford and his Scoler" (Reliquiæ Antiquæ, vol. i, p. 230),—"C.Whereof was Adam made?M.Of viij. thingis: the first of erthe, the second of fire, the iijdeof wynde, the iiijthof clowdys, the vthof aire wherethorough he speketh and thinketh, the vjthof dewe wherby he sweteth, the vijthof flowres, wherof Adam hath his ien, the viijthis salte wherof Adam hath salt teres." A similar account is given in an extract from an old Friesic manuscript communicated to the Zeitschrift für Deutsches Alterthum, by Dr. James Grimm,—"God scôp thene êresta meneska, thet was Adam, fon achta wendem; that bênete fon tha stêne, thet flâsk fon there erthe, thet blôd fon tha wetere, tha herta fon tha winde, thene togta (l. thochta) fon tha wolken, the(ne) suêt fon tha dawe, tha lokkar fon tha gerse, tha âgene fon there sunna, and tha blêrem on thene helga ôm."—God created the first man, who was Adam, of eight elements: the bone from the stone, the flesh from the earth, the blood from the water, the heart from the wind, the thought from the cloud, the sweat from the dew, the hair from the grass, the eyes from the sun.
5169.a proud prikere of Fraunce.A proud rider of France. Until the fifteenth century there appears to have been a strong prejudice among the lower orders against horsemen: their name was connected with oppressors and foreigners. Horses appear to have been comparatively little used for riding among the Anglo-Saxons until they were introduced by the Norman favourites of Edward the Confessor, in whose reign we read that the Anglo-Saxon soldiers in Herefordshire were defeated by the Welsh owing to their awkwardness on horseback, having been unadvisedly mounted by their Norman commander. The Anglo-Norman barons of the three following centuries, with their numerous household of knights and attendants who plundered and oppressed the peasantry and middle classes of society, kept alive the prejudice alluded to, and we trace it in several popular songs. In a song of the reign of Edward I (Political Songs, p. 240), we find the following lines:—
Whil God wes on ertheAnd wondrede wyde,Whet wes the resounWhy he nolde ryde?For he nolde no gromTo go by ys syde,Ne grucchyng of no gedelyngTo chaule ne to chyde.Spedeth ou to spewen,Ase me doth to spelle;The fend ou afretieWith fleis ant with felle!Herkneth hideward, horsmen,A tidyng ich ou telle,That ye shulen hongen,Ant herbarewen in helle!
Whil God wes on ertheAnd wondrede wyde,Whet wes the resounWhy he nolde ryde?For he nolde no gromTo go by ys syde,Ne grucchyng of no gedelyngTo chaule ne to chyde.Spedeth ou to spewen,Ase me doth to spelle;The fend ou afretieWith fleis ant with felle!Herkneth hideward, horsmen,A tidyng ich ou telle,That ye shulen hongen,Ant herbarewen in helle!
Whil God wes on erthe
And wondrede wyde,
Whet wes the resoun
Why he nolde ryde?
For he nolde no grom
To go by ys syde,
Ne grucchyng of no gedelyng
To chaule ne to chyde.
Spedeth ou to spewen,
Ase me doth to spelle;
The fend ou afretie
With fleis ant with felle!
Herkneth hideward, horsmen,
A tidyng ich ou telle,
That ye shulen hongen,
Ant herbarewen in helle!
5276. Epist. ad. Philippens. iii, 19.
5283. Epist. Joan. iv, 16.
5289. Matth. xxv, 12; Psal. lxxx, 13. Et dimisi eos secundum desideria cordis eorum, ibunt in adventionibus suis.
5305.the four doctours.The four doctorspar excellenceof the western church were, I believe, Gregory, Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome.
5354. Ecclesiast. i, 16.
5363. Epist. Jacob. ii, 10. Quicunque autem totam legem servaverit, offendat autem in uno, factus est omnium reus.
5412.as Caym was on Eve.See further on l.5549. According to a very curious legend, which was popular in the middle ages, Cain was born during the period of penitence and fasting to which our first parents were condemned for their breach of obedience.
5415. Psa. vii, 15. Concepit dolorem et peperit iniquitatem.
5417. Whitaker's text inserts before this line—
Caym, the cursed creature,Conceyved was in synne;After that Adam and EveHadden y-synged,Withoute repentaunceOf here rechelessnesse,A rybaud thei engendrede,And a gome unryghtful;As an hywe that ereth natAuntreth hym to soweOn a leye lond,Ayens hus lordes wille,So was Caym conceyved,And so ben cursed wrettchesThat lycame han ayen the laweThat oure Lord ordeynede.
Caym, the cursed creature,Conceyved was in synne;After that Adam and EveHadden y-synged,Withoute repentaunceOf here rechelessnesse,A rybaud thei engendrede,And a gome unryghtful;As an hywe that ereth natAuntreth hym to soweOn a leye lond,Ayens hus lordes wille,So was Caym conceyved,And so ben cursed wrettchesThat lycame han ayen the laweThat oure Lord ordeynede.
Caym, the cursed creature,
Conceyved was in synne;
After that Adam and Eve
Hadden y-synged,
Withoute repentaunce
Of here rechelessnesse,
A rybaud thei engendrede,
And a gome unryghtful;
As an hywe that ereth nat
Auntreth hym to sowe
On a leye lond,
Ayens hus lordes wille,
So was Caym conceyved,
And so ben cursed wrettches
That lycame han ayen the lawe
That oure Lord ordeynede.
5433. Gen. vi, 7. pænitet enim me fecisse eos.
5464. Ezech. xviii, 20.
5470. Whitaker's text adds here:—
Westminster lawe, ich wot,Worcheth the contrarie;For thauh the fader be a frankelayne,And for a felon be hanged,The heritage that the air sholde haveYs at the kynges wille.
Westminster lawe, ich wot,Worcheth the contrarie;For thauh the fader be a frankelayne,And for a felon be hanged,The heritage that the air sholde haveYs at the kynges wille.
Westminster lawe, ich wot,
Worcheth the contrarie;
For thauh the fader be a frankelayne,
And for a felon be hanged,
The heritage that the air sholde have
Ys at the kynges wille.
5479. Matt. vii, 16.
5497. John xiv, 6.
5507.many a peire, sithen the pestilence.The continuator of William de Nangis, who gives a detailed account of the effects of the great pestilence on the Continent, mentions the hasty marriages which followed it, but he gives quite a different account of their fruitfulness. "Cessante autem dicta epidimia, pestilentia, et mortalitate, nupserunt viri qui remanserunt et mulieres ad invicem, conceperunt uxores residuæ per mundum ultra modum, nulla sterilis efficiebatur, sed prægnantes hinc inde videbantur, et plures geminos pariebant, et aliquæ tres infantes insimul vivos emittebant." The writer goes on to observe, "Sed proh dolor! ex hujus renovatione sæculi non est mundus propter hoc in melius commutatus. Nam homines fuerunt postea magis avari et tenaces, cum multo plura bona quam antea possiderent; magis etiam cupidi et per lites, brigas, et rixas, atque per placita, seipsos conturbantes.... Charitas etiam ab illo tempore refrigescere cæpit valde, et iniquitas abundavit cum ignorantiis et peccatis; nam pauci inveniebantur qui scirent aut vellent in domibus, villis, et castris informare pueros in grammaticalibus rudimentis."—Contin. G. de Nangis, in Dacherii Spicileg.iii, 110 (ed.1723).
5515.do hem to Dunmowe.This is, I believe, the earliest allusion at present known to the custom of the flitch of bacon at Dunmow, which was evidently, at that time, a matter of general celebrity. In Chaucer, about half a century later, the Wife of Bath says of her two old husbands, and of the way in which she tyrannized over them,—
The bacoun was nought fet for hem, I trowe,That som men fecche in Essex at Donmowe.—Cant. T.5799.
The bacoun was nought fet for hem, I trowe,That som men fecche in Essex at Donmowe.—Cant. T.5799.
The bacoun was nought fet for hem, I trowe,
That som men fecche in Essex at Donmowe.—Cant. T.5799.
In a curious religious poem preserved in a manuscript in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, written about the year 1460, from which some extracts are printed in the "Reliquiæ Antiquæ," ii, 27-29, we have the following satirical allusion to this custom:—
I can fynde no man now that wille enquereThe parfyte wais unto Dunmow;For they repent hem within a yere,And many within a weke, and sonner, men trow;That cawsith the weis to be rowgh and over-grow,That no man may fynd path or gap,The world is turnyd to another shap.Befe and moton wylle serve wele enow;And for to seche so ferre a lytill bakon flyk,Which hath long hanggid resty and towAnd the wey, I telle you, is comborous and thyk,And thou might stomble, and take the cryk;Therfor bide at home, what so ever hapTylle the world be turnyd into another shap.
I can fynde no man now that wille enquereThe parfyte wais unto Dunmow;For they repent hem within a yere,And many within a weke, and sonner, men trow;That cawsith the weis to be rowgh and over-grow,That no man may fynd path or gap,The world is turnyd to another shap.
I can fynde no man now that wille enquere
The parfyte wais unto Dunmow;
For they repent hem within a yere,
And many within a weke, and sonner, men trow;
That cawsith the weis to be rowgh and over-grow,
That no man may fynd path or gap,
The world is turnyd to another shap.
Befe and moton wylle serve wele enow;And for to seche so ferre a lytill bakon flyk,Which hath long hanggid resty and towAnd the wey, I telle you, is comborous and thyk,And thou might stomble, and take the cryk;Therfor bide at home, what so ever hapTylle the world be turnyd into another shap.
Befe and moton wylle serve wele enow;
And for to seche so ferre a lytill bakon flyk,
Which hath long hanggid resty and tow
And the wey, I telle you, is comborous and thyk,
And thou might stomble, and take the cryk;
Therfor bide at home, what so ever hap
Tylle the world be turnyd into another shap.
One or two other allusions to this custom have been found in manuscripts of the fifteenth century, and in the sixteenth century these allusions become more numerous.
5563. 1 Corinth. vii, 1.
5613.Margery perles.A margarite pearl,perle marguerite. The Latin name for a pearl (margarita) seems to be the origin of this expression.
5634.a love day | to lette with truthe.Love days (Dies amoris) were days fixed for settling differences by umpire, without having recourse to law or to violence. The ecclesiastics seem generally to have had the principal share in the management of these transactions, which throughout the Visions of Piers Ploughman appear to be censured as the means of hindering justice and of enriching the clergy. A little further on, Religion is blamed for being "a ledere of love-dayes." (l.6219.) In Chaucer, it is said of the friar:—
And over'al, ther eny profyt schulde arise,Curteys he was, and lowe of servyse.. . . . . .And rage he couthe and pleye as a whelpe,In love-dayes, ther couthe he mochil helpe.For ther was he not like a cloystererWith a thredbare cope, as a pore scoler,But he was like a maister or a pope.—Cant. T.249, 259.
And over'al, ther eny profyt schulde arise,Curteys he was, and lowe of servyse.. . . . . .And rage he couthe and pleye as a whelpe,In love-dayes, ther couthe he mochil helpe.For ther was he not like a cloystererWith a thredbare cope, as a pore scoler,But he was like a maister or a pope.—Cant. T.249, 259.
And over'al, ther eny profyt schulde arise,
Curteys he was, and lowe of servyse.
. . . . . .
And rage he couthe and pleye as a whelpe,
In love-dayes, ther couthe he mochil helpe.
For ther was he not like a cloysterer
With a thredbare cope, as a pore scoler,
But he was like a maister or a pope.—Cant. T.249, 259.
5646. The quotation is made up from Job xxi, 7; and Jerem. xii, 2.
5651. Psal. lxxii, 12.
5659. Psal. x, 4. Quoniam quæ perfecisti, destruxerunt: justus autem quid fecit?
5739. Psal. cxxxi, 6.
5769. Isai. lviii, 7.
5778. Tob. iv, 9. Si multum tibi fuerit, abundanter tribue; si exiguum tibi fuerit, etiam exiguum libenter impertiri stude.
In what follows, Whitaker's text is in parts much more brief than the one now printed; there are also many transpositions, and other variations, which are not of sufficient importance to be pointed out more particularly.
5801.in a pryvee parlour.5803.in a chambre with a chymenee.This is a curious illustration of contemporary manners. The hall was the apartment in which originally the lord of the household and the male portion of the family passed nearly all their time when at home, and where they lived in a manner in public. The chambers were only used for sleeping, and as places of retirement for the ladies, and had, at first, no fire-places (chymenees), which were added, in course of time, for their comfort. The parlour was an apartment introduced also at a comparatively late period, and was, as its name indicates, a place for private conferences or conversation. As society advanced in refinement, people sought to live less and less in public, and the heads of the household gradually deserted the hall, except on special occasions, and lived more in the parlour and in the "chambre with a chymenee." With the absence of the lord from the hall, its festive character and indiscriminate hospitality began to diminish; and the popular agitators declaimed against this as an unmistakeable sign of the debasement of the times.
5829. Ezech. xviii, 19.
5835. Galat. vi, 5.
5844. Pauli Epist. ad Rom. xii, 3.
5911.seven artz.In the scholastic system of the middle ages, the whole course of learning was divided into seven arts, which were, grammar, dialectics, rhetoric, music, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy. They were included in the following memorial distich:—
Gram. loquitur, Dia. vera docet, Rhet. verba colorat,Mus. canit, Ar. numerat, Geo. ponderat, As. colit astra.
Gram. loquitur, Dia. vera docet, Rhet. verba colorat,Mus. canit, Ar. numerat, Geo. ponderat, As. colit astra.
Gram. loquitur, Dia. vera docet, Rhet. verba colorat,
Mus. canit, Ar. numerat, Geo. ponderat, As. colit astra.
5963.a baleys.See before, thenoteon l. 2819.
5990.Caton.Distich. lib. i, 26.
6009. Galat. vi, 10.
6022.Epist. ad Rom. xii, 19.
6037. The second Trin. Coll. MS. reads here—
Experimentis of AlkenemyeOf Albertis makyng,Nigromancie and permansieThe pouke to reisen,Gif thou thenke, etc.
Experimentis of AlkenemyeOf Albertis makyng,Nigromancie and permansieThe pouke to reisen,Gif thou thenke, etc.
Experimentis of Alkenemye
Of Albertis makyng,
Nigromancie and permansie
The pouke to reisen,
Gif thou thenke, etc.
6146. Matth. vii, 3.
6179. Matth. xv, 14; Luke vi, 39; Mark (?)
6186.mausede.An error of the press formansede. See the Glossary.
6191.Offyn and Fynes. Ophni and Phinees. See 1 Samuel iv. (in the Vulgate called 1 Kings).
6199. Psal. xlix, 21.
6207. Isai. lvi, 10.
6217. The text of the Trin. Coll. MS. 2, differs very much from ours in this part of the poem. Instead of 6217-6277, we have the following lines:—
Ac now is Religioun a ridereAnd a rennere aboute,A ledere of ladies,And a lond biggere;Poperith on a palfreyTo toune and to toune;A bidowe or a biselardHe berith be his side;Godis flessh and his fetAnd hise fyve woundisArn more in his myndeThan the memorie of his foundours.This is the lif of this lordisThat lyven shulde with Do-bet,And wel awey wers,And I shulde al telle.I wende that kinghed and knighthed,And caiseris with erlis,Wern Do-wel and Do-betAnd Do-best-of-hem-alle.For I have seighe it myself,And siththen red it aftir,How Crist counseilleth the comune,And kenneth hem this tale,Super cathedram Moisi sederunt principesFor-thi I wende that tho wyesWern Do-best-of-alle.I nile not scorne, etc.
Ac now is Religioun a ridereAnd a rennere aboute,A ledere of ladies,And a lond biggere;Poperith on a palfreyTo toune and to toune;A bidowe or a biselardHe berith be his side;Godis flessh and his fetAnd hise fyve woundisArn more in his myndeThan the memorie of his foundours.This is the lif of this lordisThat lyven shulde with Do-bet,And wel awey wers,And I shulde al telle.I wende that kinghed and knighthed,And caiseris with erlis,Wern Do-wel and Do-betAnd Do-best-of-hem-alle.For I have seighe it myself,And siththen red it aftir,How Crist counseilleth the comune,And kenneth hem this tale,Super cathedram Moisi sederunt principesFor-thi I wende that tho wyesWern Do-best-of-alle.I nile not scorne, etc.
Ac now is Religioun a ridere
And a rennere aboute,
A ledere of ladies,
And a lond biggere;
Poperith on a palfrey
To toune and to toune;
A bidowe or a biselard
He berith be his side;
Godis flessh and his fet
And hise fyve woundis
Arn more in his mynde
Than the memorie of his foundours.
This is the lif of this lordis
That lyven shulde with Do-bet,
And wel awey wers,
And I shulde al telle.
I wende that kinghed and knighthed,
And caiseris with erlis,
Wern Do-wel and Do-bet
And Do-best-of-hem-alle.
For I have seighe it myself,
And siththen red it aftir,
How Crist counseilleth the comune,
And kenneth hem this tale,
Super cathedram Moisi sederunt principes
For-thi I wende that tho wyes
Wern Do-best-of-alle.
I nile not scorne, etc.
6223.an heepe of houndes."Walter de Suffield, bishop of Norwich, bequeathed by will his pack of hounds to the king, in 1256. Blomefield's Norf. ii, 347. See Chaucer's Monke, Prol. v, 165. This was a common topic of satire. It occurs again fol. xxvii, a [l.3321, of the present Edition]. See Chaucer's Testament of Love, page 492, col. ii, Urr. The Archdeacon of Richmond, on his visitation, comes to the priory of Bridlington in Yorkshire, in 1216, with ninety-seven horses, twenty dogs, and three hawks. Dugd. Mon. ii, 65."Warton.
6251. Psal. xix, 8.
6259.the abbot of Abyngdone.There was a very ancient and famous abbey at Abingdon in Berkshire. Geoffrey of Monmouth was abbot there. It was the house into which the monks, strictly so called, were first introduced in England, and is, therefore, very properly introduced as the representative of English monachism.
6266. Isai. xiv, 4, 5.
6289. Ecclesiasticus x, 10.
6291. Catonis Distich. iv, 4.
Dilige denari, sed parce dilige, formam;Quem nemo sanctus nec honestus captat ab ære.
Dilige denari, sed parce dilige, formam;Quem nemo sanctus nec honestus captat ab ære.
Dilige denari, sed parce dilige, formam;
Quem nemo sanctus nec honestus captat ab ære.
6327. Colos. iii, 1.
6353.mœchaberis.A mistake in the original MS. fornecaberis, as it is rightly printed in Crowley's edition.
6372. John iii, 13.
6414. Matth. xxiii, 2. Super cathedram Moysi sederunt Scribæ et Pharisæi.
6440. Psal. xxxv, 8.
6476. Ecclesiastes ix, 1.
6504. Matth. x, 18. The quotation is not quite literal.
6528. Foridiotæ irapiunt, readidiotæ vi rapiunt: the error was caused accidentally in the printing, and has escaped in the present edition.
6571. Matth. xx, 4.
6741. John iii, 3.
6755. Matth. vii, 1.
6764. Psal. l, 21.
6815. Isai. lv, 1.
6825. Mark xvi, 16.
6831.may no cherl chartre make.Such was the law ofvileinage, then in existence. There is a curious story illustrative of the condition of thecherlor peasant, in the Descriptio Norfolciensium, in my Early Mysteries and other Latin Poems of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries, p. 94. The 'cherl,' vilein, or bondman, could not even be put apprentice without the licence of the lord of the soil. In the curious poem on the Constitution of Masonry (14th cent.) published by Mr. Halliwell, the master is particularly cautioned on this point:—
The fowrthe artycul thys moste be,That the mayster hym wel be-seThat he no bondemon prentys make,Ny for no covetyse do hym take;For the lord that he ys bonde to,May fache the prentes whersever he go.Early History of Freemasonry in England, p. 14.
The fowrthe artycul thys moste be,That the mayster hym wel be-seThat he no bondemon prentys make,Ny for no covetyse do hym take;For the lord that he ys bonde to,May fache the prentes whersever he go.Early History of Freemasonry in England, p. 14.
The fowrthe artycul thys moste be,
That the mayster hym wel be-se
That he no bondemon prentys make,
Ny for no covetyse do hym take;
For the lord that he ys bonde to,
May fache the prentes whersever he go.
Early History of Freemasonry in England, p. 14.
6859.Trojanus.6869.Gregorie.The legend here alluded to is given briefly as follows, in the life of St. Gregory in the Golden Legend, fol. lxxxxvii,—
"In the tyme that Trayan themperour regned, and on a tyme as he wente toward a batayll out of Rome, it happed that in hys waye as he shold ryde a woman a wydowe came to hym wepyng and sayd: I praye thee, syre, that thou avenge the deth of one my sone, whyche innocently and wythout cause hath ben slayn. Themperour answerd: yf I come agayn fro the batayll hool and sounde, thenne I shall do justyce for the deth of thy sone. Thenne sayd the wydowe: Syre, and yf thou deye in the bataylle, who shall thenne avenge hys deth for me? And the wydowe sayd, is it not better that thou do to me justice, and have the meryte thereof of God, than another have it for thee? Then had Trayan pyté, and descended fro his horse, and dyde justyce in avengynge the deth of her sone. On a tyme saynt Gregory went by the marked of Rome whyche is called the marked of Trayan. And thenne he remembred of the justyce and other good dedes of Trayan, and how he had ben pyteous and debonayr, and was moche sorowfull that he had ben a paynem; and he tourned to the chyrche of saynt Peter waylyng for thorrour of the mescreaunce of Trayan. Thenne answerd a voys fro God, sayng: I have now herd thy prayer, and have spared Trayan fro the payne perpetuelly. By thys thus, as somme saye, the payne perpetuell due to Trayan as a mescreaunt was somme dele take awaye, but for all that was he not quyte fro the pryson of helle; for the sowle may well be in helle, and fele ther no payne, by the mercy of God."
6907. 1 John iii, 15.
6938. Luke xiv, 12.
6964. John viii, 34.
6981. Galat. vi, 2.
7015. Matth. vii, 3.
7063. Luke x, 40.
7072. Luke x, 42.
7113. Although our writer quotes the circumstance from Luke xviii, the words he gives are from Matth. xix, 21.
7113. In Whitaker's text the following passage is here inserted:—
Thus consaileth CristIn comun ous alle,'Ho so coveyteth to comeTo my kynriche,He mot forsake hymself,Hus suster, and hus brother,And al that the worlde wolde,And my wil folwen.'Nisi renunciaveritis omnia quæ possidetis,etc.Meny proverbis ich myghte haveOf meny holy seyntes,To testifie for treutheThe tale that ich shewe,And poetes to preoven hit,Porfirie and Plato,Aristotle, Ovidius,And ellevene hundred,Tullius, Tholomeus,Ich can nat telle here names,Preoven pacient povertePryns of alle vertues.And by greyn that groweth,God ous alle techeth.Nisi granum frumenti cadens in terra,et mortuum fuit, ipsum solum manet.Bot yf that sed that sowen is,In the sloh sterve,Shal nevere spir springen up,Ne spik on strawe curne;Sholde nevere wete wexe,Bote wete fyrste deyde;And other sedes alsoIn the same wyse,That ben leide on louh eerthe,Y-lore as hit were,And thorw the grete grace of God,Of greyn ded in ertheAtte the laste launceth upWerby lyven alle.Ac sedes that ben sowenAnd mowe suffre wyntres,Aren tydyor and towerTo mannes by-hofte,Than seedes that sowen beethAnd mowe nouht with forste,With wyndes, ne with wederes,As in wynter tyme,As lynne-seed, and lik-seed,And Lente-seedes alle,Aren nouht so worthy as whete,Ne so wel mowenIn the feld with the forst,And hit freese longe.Ryght so, for sothe,That suffre may penauncesWorth alowed of oure LordeAt here laste ende,And for here penaunce be preysed,As for puyre martir,Other for a confessour y-kud,That counteth nat a ruyssheFere ne famyne,Ne false menne tonges;Bote as an hosebonde hopethAfter an hard wynter,Yf God gyveth hym the lifTo have a good hervest,So preoveth thees prophetesThat pacientliche suffrethMyschiefs and myshappes,And menye tribulacions,Bytokneth ful triwelicheIn tyme comynge afterMurthe for hus mornynge,And that muche plenté.For Crist seide to hus seyntesThat for hus sake tholedenPoverte, penaunces,Persecution of body,Angeles in here angreOn this wise hem grate,Tristitia vestra vertetur in gaudium.Youre sorwe into solasShal turne atte laste,And out of wo into weleYoure wyrdes shul chaunge.Ac so redeth of riche,The revers he may fynde,How God, as the Godspel telleth,Geveth hem foul towname,And that hus gost shal go,And hus good byleve,And asketh hym afterHo shal hit have,The catel that he kepeth soIn coffres and in hernes,And ert so loth to leneThet leve shalt needes.O stulte, ista nocte anima tua egrediatur,thesauriza et ignorat.An unredy reveThi residue shal spene,That menye moththe was ynneIn a mynte while;Upholderes on the hulShullen have hit to selle.Lo! lo! lordes, lo!And ladies taketh hede,Hit lasteth nat longeThat is lycour swete,Ac pees-coddes and pere-ronettes,Plomes and chiries,That lyghtliche launceth up,Litel wile dureth,And that that rathest rypeth,Roteth most sannest.On fat londe and ful of dongeFoulest wedes groweth,Right so, for sothe,Suche that ben bysshopes,Erles and archdekenes,And other ryche clerkes.That chaffaren as chapmen,And chiden bote thei wynne,And haven the worlde at here wilOther wyse to lyve;Right as weodes wexenIn wose and in dunge,So of rychesse upon richesseArist al vices.Lo! lond overe-laydeWith marle and with donge,Whete that wexeth theronWorth lygge ar hit repe;Right so, for sothe,For to sigge treuthe,Over plenté pryde norsshethTher poverte destrueth hit.For how hit evere be y-wonne,Bote hit be wel dispended,Worliche wele is wuked thyngeTo hym that hit kupeth.For yf he be feer therfro,Ful ofte hath he dredeThat fals folke fetche awayFelonliche hus godes.And yut more hit maketh menMeny time and ofteTo synegen, and to souchenSoteltees of gyle,For covetyze of that catelTo culle hem that hit kepeth;And so is meny men y-morthredFor hus money and goodes;And tho that duden the dedeY-dampned therfore after,And he, for hus harde heldynge,In helle paraunter;So covetise of catelWas combraunce to hem alle.Lo! how pans purchasedeFaire places, and drede,That rote is robbersThe richesse withynne.[Passus quartus de Dowel.]Ac wel worth Poverte,For he may walke unrobbede,Among pilours in pees,Yf pacience hym folwe,Oure prynce Jhesu poverte chees,And hus aposteles alle,And ay the lenger thei lyvedenThe lasse good thei hadde.Tanquam nihil habentes, et omniapossidentes.Yut men that of AbraamAnd Job were wonder ryche,And out of numbre tho menMenye meobles hadden.Abraam, for al hus good,Hadde muche teene,In gret poverte was y-put,A pryns as hit wereBynom hym ys housewifAnd heeld here hymself,And Abraam nat hardyOnes to letten hym,Ne for brightnesse of here beautéHere spouse to be byknowe.And for he suffrede and seide nouht,Oure Lord sente tokne,That the kynge crideTo Abraam mercy,And deliverede hym hus wif,With muche welthe after.And also Job the gentelWhat joye hadde he on erthe,How bittere he hit bouhte!As the book telleth.And for he songe in hus sorwe,Si bona accipimus a Domino,Dereworthe dere God,Do we somala;Al hus sorwe to solasThorgh that songe turnede,And Job bycam a jolif man,And al hus joye newe.Lo how patience in here poverteThees patriarkes relevede,And brouhte hem al aboveThat in bale rotede,As greyn that lyth in the greotAnd thorgh grace atte lasteSpryngeth up and spredeth,So spedde the fader Abraam,And also the gentel Job,Here joie hath non ende.Ac leveth nouht, ye lewede men,That ich lacke richesse,Thauh ich preise poverte thus,And preove hit by ensamples,Worthiour as by holy writ,And wise philosophers,Bothe two but goode,Be ye ful certayn,And lyves that our Lorde loveth,And large weyes to hevene.Ac the povre pacientPurgatorye passethRathere than the ryche,Thauh thei renne at ones.For yf a marchaunt and a messagerMetten to-gederes,For the parcels of hus paperAnd other pryvey dettes,Wol lette hym as ich leyveThe lengthe of a myle;The messager doth namoreBote hus mouth telleth,Hus lettere and hus ernde sheweth,And is anon delyvered;And thauh thei wende by the weyTho two to-gederes.Thauh the messager made hus weyAmyde the whete,Wole no wys man wroth be,Ne hus wed take,Ys non haiwarde y-hoteHus wed for to take.Necessitas non habet legem.Ac yf the marchaunt make hus wayOvere menne cornne,And the haywarde happeWith hym for to mete,Other hus hatt, other hus hed,Other elles hus gloves,The merchaunt mot for-go,Other moneys of huse porse,And yut be lett, as ich leyve,For the lawe askethMarchauns for here merchandiseIn meny place to tullen.Yut thauh thei wenden on weyAs to Wynchestre fayre,The marchaunt with hus marchaundiseMay nat go so swytheAs the messager may,Ne with so mochel ese.For that on bereth bote a boxe,A brevet therynne,Ther the marchaunt ledeth a maleWith meny kynne thynges;And dredeth to be ded therefore,And he in derke meteWith robbours and with reversThat riche men despoilen,Ther the messager is ay murye,Hus mouthe ful of songes,And leyveth for hus lettersThat no wight wol hym greve.Ac yut myghte the marchauntThorgh monye and other yeftesHave hors and hardy men,Thauh he mette theoves,Wolde non suche asailen hymFor hem that hym folweth,As safliche passe as the messager,And as sone at hus hostel.Ye, wyten wel, ye wyse men,What this is to mene.The marchaunt is no more to meneBote men that ben rycheAren acountable to CristAnd to the kyng of hevene,That holden mote the heye weye,Evene ten hestes,Bothe lovye and lene,The leele and the unleele,And have reuthe, and releveWith hus grete richesseBy hus power alle manere menIn meschief y-falle,Fynde beggars bred,Backes for the colde,Tythen here goodes tryweliche,A tol as hit semethThat oure Lord loketh afterOf eche a lyf that wyneth,Withoute wyles other wrong,Other wommen atte stuwes,And yut more, to make pees,And quyte menne dettes,Bothe spele and spareTo spene upon the needful,As Crist self comandethTo alle Cristene puple.Alter alterius onera porta.The messager aren the mendinansThat lyveth by menne almesse,Beth nat y-bounde, as beeth the riche,To bothe the two lawes,To lene and to lere,Ne lentenes to faste,And other pryvey penauncesThe wiche the preest wol wel,That the law yeveth leveSuche lowe folke to be excused,As none tythes to tythen,Ne clothe the nakede,Ne in enquestes to come,Ne contumax thauh he wortheHalyday other holy eveHus mete to deserve;For yf he loveth and byleyvethAs the lawe techeth,Qui crediderit et baptizatus fuerit, etc.Telleth the lord a tale,As a triwe messager,And sheweth by seel and suthe by lettereWith wat lord he dwelleth,Kneweleche hym crysteneAnd of holy churche byleyve,Ther is no lawe, as ich leyve,Wol let hym the gate,Ther God is gatwarde hymselfAnd eche a gome knoweth.The porter of pure reutheMay parforme the laweIn that he wilneth and woldeEch wight as hemself;For the wil is as muche worthOf a wretche beggereAs al that the ryche may reymeAnd ryght fulliche dele,And as much medeFor a myte that he offreth,As the riche man for al is moneye,And more, as by the Godspel:Amen dico vobis quia hæc vidua paupercula,etc.So that povre pacientIs parfitest lif of alle,And alle parfit preestesTo poverte sholde drawe.
Thus consaileth CristIn comun ous alle,'Ho so coveyteth to comeTo my kynriche,He mot forsake hymself,Hus suster, and hus brother,And al that the worlde wolde,And my wil folwen.'Nisi renunciaveritis omnia quæ possidetis,etc.Meny proverbis ich myghte haveOf meny holy seyntes,To testifie for treutheThe tale that ich shewe,And poetes to preoven hit,Porfirie and Plato,Aristotle, Ovidius,And ellevene hundred,Tullius, Tholomeus,Ich can nat telle here names,Preoven pacient povertePryns of alle vertues.And by greyn that groweth,God ous alle techeth.Nisi granum frumenti cadens in terra,et mortuum fuit, ipsum solum manet.Bot yf that sed that sowen is,In the sloh sterve,Shal nevere spir springen up,Ne spik on strawe curne;Sholde nevere wete wexe,Bote wete fyrste deyde;And other sedes alsoIn the same wyse,That ben leide on louh eerthe,Y-lore as hit were,And thorw the grete grace of God,Of greyn ded in ertheAtte the laste launceth upWerby lyven alle.Ac sedes that ben sowenAnd mowe suffre wyntres,Aren tydyor and towerTo mannes by-hofte,Than seedes that sowen beethAnd mowe nouht with forste,With wyndes, ne with wederes,As in wynter tyme,As lynne-seed, and lik-seed,And Lente-seedes alle,Aren nouht so worthy as whete,Ne so wel mowenIn the feld with the forst,And hit freese longe.Ryght so, for sothe,That suffre may penauncesWorth alowed of oure LordeAt here laste ende,And for here penaunce be preysed,As for puyre martir,Other for a confessour y-kud,That counteth nat a ruyssheFere ne famyne,Ne false menne tonges;Bote as an hosebonde hopethAfter an hard wynter,Yf God gyveth hym the lifTo have a good hervest,So preoveth thees prophetesThat pacientliche suffrethMyschiefs and myshappes,And menye tribulacions,Bytokneth ful triwelicheIn tyme comynge afterMurthe for hus mornynge,And that muche plenté.For Crist seide to hus seyntesThat for hus sake tholedenPoverte, penaunces,Persecution of body,Angeles in here angreOn this wise hem grate,Tristitia vestra vertetur in gaudium.Youre sorwe into solasShal turne atte laste,And out of wo into weleYoure wyrdes shul chaunge.Ac so redeth of riche,The revers he may fynde,How God, as the Godspel telleth,Geveth hem foul towname,And that hus gost shal go,And hus good byleve,And asketh hym afterHo shal hit have,The catel that he kepeth soIn coffres and in hernes,And ert so loth to leneThet leve shalt needes.O stulte, ista nocte anima tua egrediatur,thesauriza et ignorat.An unredy reveThi residue shal spene,That menye moththe was ynneIn a mynte while;Upholderes on the hulShullen have hit to selle.Lo! lo! lordes, lo!And ladies taketh hede,Hit lasteth nat longeThat is lycour swete,Ac pees-coddes and pere-ronettes,Plomes and chiries,That lyghtliche launceth up,Litel wile dureth,And that that rathest rypeth,Roteth most sannest.On fat londe and ful of dongeFoulest wedes groweth,Right so, for sothe,Suche that ben bysshopes,Erles and archdekenes,And other ryche clerkes.That chaffaren as chapmen,And chiden bote thei wynne,And haven the worlde at here wilOther wyse to lyve;Right as weodes wexenIn wose and in dunge,So of rychesse upon richesseArist al vices.Lo! lond overe-laydeWith marle and with donge,Whete that wexeth theronWorth lygge ar hit repe;Right so, for sothe,For to sigge treuthe,Over plenté pryde norsshethTher poverte destrueth hit.For how hit evere be y-wonne,Bote hit be wel dispended,Worliche wele is wuked thyngeTo hym that hit kupeth.For yf he be feer therfro,Ful ofte hath he dredeThat fals folke fetche awayFelonliche hus godes.And yut more hit maketh menMeny time and ofteTo synegen, and to souchenSoteltees of gyle,For covetyze of that catelTo culle hem that hit kepeth;And so is meny men y-morthredFor hus money and goodes;And tho that duden the dedeY-dampned therfore after,And he, for hus harde heldynge,In helle paraunter;So covetise of catelWas combraunce to hem alle.Lo! how pans purchasedeFaire places, and drede,That rote is robbersThe richesse withynne.
Thus consaileth Crist
In comun ous alle,
'Ho so coveyteth to come
To my kynriche,
He mot forsake hymself,
Hus suster, and hus brother,
And al that the worlde wolde,
And my wil folwen.'
Nisi renunciaveritis omnia quæ possidetis,
etc.
Meny proverbis ich myghte have
Of meny holy seyntes,
To testifie for treuthe
The tale that ich shewe,
And poetes to preoven hit,
Porfirie and Plato,
Aristotle, Ovidius,
And ellevene hundred,
Tullius, Tholomeus,
Ich can nat telle here names,
Preoven pacient poverte
Pryns of alle vertues.
And by greyn that groweth,
God ous alle techeth.
Nisi granum frumenti cadens in terra,
et mortuum fuit, ipsum solum manet.
Bot yf that sed that sowen is,
In the sloh sterve,
Shal nevere spir springen up,
Ne spik on strawe curne;
Sholde nevere wete wexe,
Bote wete fyrste deyde;
And other sedes also
In the same wyse,
That ben leide on louh eerthe,
Y-lore as hit were,
And thorw the grete grace of God,
Of greyn ded in erthe
Atte the laste launceth up
Werby lyven alle.
Ac sedes that ben sowen
And mowe suffre wyntres,
Aren tydyor and tower
To mannes by-hofte,
Than seedes that sowen beeth
And mowe nouht with forste,
With wyndes, ne with wederes,
As in wynter tyme,
As lynne-seed, and lik-seed,
And Lente-seedes alle,
Aren nouht so worthy as whete,
Ne so wel mowen
In the feld with the forst,
And hit freese longe.
Ryght so, for sothe,
That suffre may penaunces
Worth alowed of oure Lorde
At here laste ende,
And for here penaunce be preysed,
As for puyre martir,
Other for a confessour y-kud,
That counteth nat a ruysshe
Fere ne famyne,
Ne false menne tonges;
Bote as an hosebonde hopeth
After an hard wynter,
Yf God gyveth hym the lif
To have a good hervest,
So preoveth thees prophetes
That pacientliche suffreth
Myschiefs and myshappes,
And menye tribulacions,
Bytokneth ful triweliche
In tyme comynge after
Murthe for hus mornynge,
And that muche plenté.
For Crist seide to hus seyntes
That for hus sake tholeden
Poverte, penaunces,
Persecution of body,
Angeles in here angre
On this wise hem grate,
Tristitia vestra vertetur in gaudium.
Youre sorwe into solas
Shal turne atte laste,
And out of wo into wele
Youre wyrdes shul chaunge.
Ac so redeth of riche,
The revers he may fynde,
How God, as the Godspel telleth,
Geveth hem foul towname,
And that hus gost shal go,
And hus good byleve,
And asketh hym after
Ho shal hit have,
The catel that he kepeth so
In coffres and in hernes,
And ert so loth to lene
Thet leve shalt needes.
O stulte, ista nocte anima tua egrediatur,
thesauriza et ignorat.
An unredy reve
Thi residue shal spene,
That menye moththe was ynne
In a mynte while;
Upholderes on the hul
Shullen have hit to selle.
Lo! lo! lordes, lo!
And ladies taketh hede,
Hit lasteth nat longe
That is lycour swete,
Ac pees-coddes and pere-ronettes,
Plomes and chiries,
That lyghtliche launceth up,
Litel wile dureth,
And that that rathest rypeth,
Roteth most sannest.
On fat londe and ful of donge
Foulest wedes groweth,
Right so, for sothe,
Suche that ben bysshopes,
Erles and archdekenes,
And other ryche clerkes.
That chaffaren as chapmen,
And chiden bote thei wynne,
And haven the worlde at here wil
Other wyse to lyve;
Right as weodes wexen
In wose and in dunge,
So of rychesse upon richesse
Arist al vices.
Lo! lond overe-layde
With marle and with donge,
Whete that wexeth theron
Worth lygge ar hit repe;
Right so, for sothe,
For to sigge treuthe,
Over plenté pryde norssheth
Ther poverte destrueth hit.
For how hit evere be y-wonne,
Bote hit be wel dispended,
Worliche wele is wuked thynge
To hym that hit kupeth.
For yf he be feer therfro,
Ful ofte hath he drede
That fals folke fetche away
Felonliche hus godes.
And yut more hit maketh men
Meny time and ofte
To synegen, and to souchen
Soteltees of gyle,
For covetyze of that catel
To culle hem that hit kepeth;
And so is meny men y-morthred
For hus money and goodes;
And tho that duden the dede
Y-dampned therfore after,
And he, for hus harde heldynge,
In helle paraunter;
So covetise of catel
Was combraunce to hem alle.
Lo! how pans purchasede
Faire places, and drede,
That rote is robbers
The richesse withynne.
[Passus quartus de Dowel.]
[Passus quartus de Dowel.]
Ac wel worth Poverte,For he may walke unrobbede,Among pilours in pees,Yf pacience hym folwe,Oure prynce Jhesu poverte chees,And hus aposteles alle,And ay the lenger thei lyvedenThe lasse good thei hadde.Tanquam nihil habentes, et omniapossidentes.Yut men that of AbraamAnd Job were wonder ryche,And out of numbre tho menMenye meobles hadden.Abraam, for al hus good,Hadde muche teene,In gret poverte was y-put,A pryns as hit wereBynom hym ys housewifAnd heeld here hymself,And Abraam nat hardyOnes to letten hym,Ne for brightnesse of here beautéHere spouse to be byknowe.And for he suffrede and seide nouht,Oure Lord sente tokne,That the kynge crideTo Abraam mercy,And deliverede hym hus wif,With muche welthe after.And also Job the gentelWhat joye hadde he on erthe,How bittere he hit bouhte!As the book telleth.And for he songe in hus sorwe,Si bona accipimus a Domino,Dereworthe dere God,Do we somala;Al hus sorwe to solasThorgh that songe turnede,And Job bycam a jolif man,And al hus joye newe.Lo how patience in here poverteThees patriarkes relevede,And brouhte hem al aboveThat in bale rotede,As greyn that lyth in the greotAnd thorgh grace atte lasteSpryngeth up and spredeth,So spedde the fader Abraam,And also the gentel Job,Here joie hath non ende.Ac leveth nouht, ye lewede men,That ich lacke richesse,Thauh ich preise poverte thus,And preove hit by ensamples,Worthiour as by holy writ,And wise philosophers,Bothe two but goode,Be ye ful certayn,And lyves that our Lorde loveth,And large weyes to hevene.Ac the povre pacientPurgatorye passethRathere than the ryche,Thauh thei renne at ones.For yf a marchaunt and a messagerMetten to-gederes,For the parcels of hus paperAnd other pryvey dettes,Wol lette hym as ich leyveThe lengthe of a myle;The messager doth namoreBote hus mouth telleth,Hus lettere and hus ernde sheweth,And is anon delyvered;And thauh thei wende by the weyTho two to-gederes.Thauh the messager made hus weyAmyde the whete,Wole no wys man wroth be,Ne hus wed take,Ys non haiwarde y-hoteHus wed for to take.Necessitas non habet legem.Ac yf the marchaunt make hus wayOvere menne cornne,And the haywarde happeWith hym for to mete,Other hus hatt, other hus hed,Other elles hus gloves,The merchaunt mot for-go,Other moneys of huse porse,And yut be lett, as ich leyve,For the lawe askethMarchauns for here merchandiseIn meny place to tullen.Yut thauh thei wenden on weyAs to Wynchestre fayre,The marchaunt with hus marchaundiseMay nat go so swytheAs the messager may,Ne with so mochel ese.For that on bereth bote a boxe,A brevet therynne,Ther the marchaunt ledeth a maleWith meny kynne thynges;And dredeth to be ded therefore,And he in derke meteWith robbours and with reversThat riche men despoilen,Ther the messager is ay murye,Hus mouthe ful of songes,And leyveth for hus lettersThat no wight wol hym greve.Ac yut myghte the marchauntThorgh monye and other yeftesHave hors and hardy men,Thauh he mette theoves,Wolde non suche asailen hymFor hem that hym folweth,As safliche passe as the messager,And as sone at hus hostel.Ye, wyten wel, ye wyse men,What this is to mene.The marchaunt is no more to meneBote men that ben rycheAren acountable to CristAnd to the kyng of hevene,That holden mote the heye weye,Evene ten hestes,Bothe lovye and lene,The leele and the unleele,And have reuthe, and releveWith hus grete richesseBy hus power alle manere menIn meschief y-falle,Fynde beggars bred,Backes for the colde,Tythen here goodes tryweliche,A tol as hit semethThat oure Lord loketh afterOf eche a lyf that wyneth,Withoute wyles other wrong,Other wommen atte stuwes,And yut more, to make pees,And quyte menne dettes,Bothe spele and spareTo spene upon the needful,As Crist self comandethTo alle Cristene puple.Alter alterius onera porta.The messager aren the mendinansThat lyveth by menne almesse,Beth nat y-bounde, as beeth the riche,To bothe the two lawes,To lene and to lere,Ne lentenes to faste,And other pryvey penauncesThe wiche the preest wol wel,That the law yeveth leveSuche lowe folke to be excused,As none tythes to tythen,Ne clothe the nakede,Ne in enquestes to come,Ne contumax thauh he wortheHalyday other holy eveHus mete to deserve;For yf he loveth and byleyvethAs the lawe techeth,Qui crediderit et baptizatus fuerit, etc.Telleth the lord a tale,As a triwe messager,And sheweth by seel and suthe by lettereWith wat lord he dwelleth,Kneweleche hym crysteneAnd of holy churche byleyve,Ther is no lawe, as ich leyve,Wol let hym the gate,Ther God is gatwarde hymselfAnd eche a gome knoweth.The porter of pure reutheMay parforme the laweIn that he wilneth and woldeEch wight as hemself;For the wil is as muche worthOf a wretche beggereAs al that the ryche may reymeAnd ryght fulliche dele,And as much medeFor a myte that he offreth,As the riche man for al is moneye,And more, as by the Godspel:Amen dico vobis quia hæc vidua paupercula,etc.So that povre pacientIs parfitest lif of alle,And alle parfit preestesTo poverte sholde drawe.
Ac wel worth Poverte,
For he may walke unrobbede,
Among pilours in pees,
Yf pacience hym folwe,
Oure prynce Jhesu poverte chees,
And hus aposteles alle,
And ay the lenger thei lyveden
The lasse good thei hadde.
Tanquam nihil habentes, et omnia
possidentes.
Yut men that of Abraam
And Job were wonder ryche,
And out of numbre tho men
Menye meobles hadden.
Abraam, for al hus good,
Hadde muche teene,
In gret poverte was y-put,
A pryns as hit were
Bynom hym ys housewif
And heeld here hymself,
And Abraam nat hardy
Ones to letten hym,
Ne for brightnesse of here beauté
Here spouse to be byknowe.
And for he suffrede and seide nouht,
Oure Lord sente tokne,
That the kynge cride
To Abraam mercy,
And deliverede hym hus wif,
With muche welthe after.
And also Job the gentel
What joye hadde he on erthe,
How bittere he hit bouhte!
As the book telleth.
And for he songe in hus sorwe,
Si bona accipimus a Domino,
Dereworthe dere God,
Do we somala;
Al hus sorwe to solas
Thorgh that songe turnede,
And Job bycam a jolif man,
And al hus joye newe.
Lo how patience in here poverte
Thees patriarkes relevede,
And brouhte hem al above
That in bale rotede,
As greyn that lyth in the greot
And thorgh grace atte laste
Spryngeth up and spredeth,
So spedde the fader Abraam,
And also the gentel Job,
Here joie hath non ende.
Ac leveth nouht, ye lewede men,
That ich lacke richesse,
Thauh ich preise poverte thus,
And preove hit by ensamples,
Worthiour as by holy writ,
And wise philosophers,
Bothe two but goode,
Be ye ful certayn,
And lyves that our Lorde loveth,
And large weyes to hevene.
Ac the povre pacient
Purgatorye passeth
Rathere than the ryche,
Thauh thei renne at ones.
For yf a marchaunt and a messager
Metten to-gederes,
For the parcels of hus paper
And other pryvey dettes,
Wol lette hym as ich leyve
The lengthe of a myle;
The messager doth namore
Bote hus mouth telleth,
Hus lettere and hus ernde sheweth,
And is anon delyvered;
And thauh thei wende by the wey
Tho two to-gederes.
Thauh the messager made hus wey
Amyde the whete,
Wole no wys man wroth be,
Ne hus wed take,
Ys non haiwarde y-hote
Hus wed for to take.
Necessitas non habet legem.
Ac yf the marchaunt make hus way
Overe menne cornne,
And the haywarde happe
With hym for to mete,
Other hus hatt, other hus hed,
Other elles hus gloves,
The merchaunt mot for-go,
Other moneys of huse porse,
And yut be lett, as ich leyve,
For the lawe asketh
Marchauns for here merchandise
In meny place to tullen.
Yut thauh thei wenden on wey
As to Wynchestre fayre,
The marchaunt with hus marchaundise
May nat go so swythe
As the messager may,
Ne with so mochel ese.
For that on bereth bote a boxe,
A brevet therynne,
Ther the marchaunt ledeth a male
With meny kynne thynges;
And dredeth to be ded therefore,
And he in derke mete
With robbours and with revers
That riche men despoilen,
Ther the messager is ay murye,
Hus mouthe ful of songes,
And leyveth for hus letters
That no wight wol hym greve.
Ac yut myghte the marchaunt
Thorgh monye and other yeftes
Have hors and hardy men,
Thauh he mette theoves,
Wolde non suche asailen hym
For hem that hym folweth,
As safliche passe as the messager,
And as sone at hus hostel.
Ye, wyten wel, ye wyse men,
What this is to mene.
The marchaunt is no more to mene
Bote men that ben ryche
Aren acountable to Crist
And to the kyng of hevene,
That holden mote the heye weye,
Evene ten hestes,
Bothe lovye and lene,
The leele and the unleele,
And have reuthe, and releve
With hus grete richesse
By hus power alle manere men
In meschief y-falle,
Fynde beggars bred,
Backes for the colde,
Tythen here goodes tryweliche,
A tol as hit semeth
That oure Lord loketh after
Of eche a lyf that wyneth,
Withoute wyles other wrong,
Other wommen atte stuwes,
And yut more, to make pees,
And quyte menne dettes,
Bothe spele and spare
To spene upon the needful,
As Crist self comandeth
To alle Cristene puple.
Alter alterius onera porta.
The messager aren the mendinans
That lyveth by menne almesse,
Beth nat y-bounde, as beeth the riche,
To bothe the two lawes,
To lene and to lere,
Ne lentenes to faste,
And other pryvey penaunces
The wiche the preest wol wel,
That the law yeveth leve
Suche lowe folke to be excused,
As none tythes to tythen,
Ne clothe the nakede,
Ne in enquestes to come,
Ne contumax thauh he worthe
Halyday other holy eve
Hus mete to deserve;
For yf he loveth and byleyveth
As the lawe techeth,
Qui crediderit et baptizatus fuerit, etc.
Telleth the lord a tale,
As a triwe messager,
And sheweth by seel and suthe by lettere
With wat lord he dwelleth,
Kneweleche hym crystene
And of holy churche byleyve,
Ther is no lawe, as ich leyve,
Wol let hym the gate,
Ther God is gatwarde hymself
And eche a gome knoweth.
The porter of pure reuthe
May parforme the lawe
In that he wilneth and wolde
Ech wight as hemself;
For the wil is as muche worth
Of a wretche beggere
As al that the ryche may reyme
And ryght fulliche dele,
And as much mede
For a myte that he offreth,
As the riche man for al is moneye,
And more, as by the Godspel:
Amen dico vobis quia hæc vidua paupercula,
etc.
So that povre pacient
Is parfitest lif of alle,
And alle parfit preestes
To poverte sholde drawe.
7128. Matth. xvii, 20.
7131. Psal. xxxiii, 11.
7141. Psal. xlii, 1.
7191. James ii, 10.
7194.over-skipperis.Those who skipped over words in reading or chanting the service of the church. The following distich points out the classes of defaulters in this respect:—