Part 4
"For Lot in hise lif-dayes, For likynge of drynke, Dide by hise doughtres That the devel liked, Delited hym in drynke As the devel wolde, {17} And leccherie hym laughte, And lay by hem bothe, And al he witte it the wyn 520 That wikked dede. _Inebriamus eum vino, dormiamusque cum eo, ut servare possimus de patre nostro semen._ Thorugh wyn and thorugh wommen Ther was Loth acombred, And there gat in glotonie Gerles that were cherles.
"For-thi dred delitable drynke, And thow shalt do the bettre. 530 Mesure is medicine, Though thow muchel yerne. It is nought al good to the goost That the gut asketh, Ne liflode to thi likame; For a liere hym techeth, That is the wrecched world Wolde thee bitraye. For the fend and thi flesshe Folwen togidere. 540 This and that seeth thi soule, And seith it in thin herte; And for thow sholdest ben y-war, I wisse thee the beste."
"Madame, mercy!" quod I, "Me liketh wel youre wordes; Ac the moneie of this molde That men so faste holdeth, Tel me to whom, madame, That tresour appendeth." 550
"Go to the gospel," quod she, {18} "That God seide hymselven; Tho the poeple hym apposede With a peny in the temple, Wheither thei sholde therwith Worshipe the kyng Cesar.
"And God asked of hym, Of whom spak the lettre, And the ymage was lik That therinne stondeth. 560
"'Cesares,' thei seiden, 'We seen it wel echone.'
"'_Reddite Cæsari_,' quod God, 'That _Cæsari_ bifalleth, _Et quæ sunt Dei Deo_,' Or ellis ye don ille; For rightfully reson Sholde rule yow alle, And kynde wit be wardeyn Youre welthe to kepe, 570 And tutour of youre tresor, And take it yow at nede, For housbondrie and hii Holden togidres."
Thanne I frayned hire faire, For hym that me made, "That dongeon in the dale, That dredful is of sighte, What may it be to meene, Madame, I yow biseche?" 580
"That is the castel of Care; Who so comth therinne May banne that he born was, To bodi or to soule. Therinne wonyeth a wight {19} That Wrong is y-hote, Fader of falshede, And founded it hymselve. Adam and Eve He egged to ille; 590 Counseilled Kaym To killen his brother; Judas he japed With Jewen silver, And sithen on an eller Hanged hymselve. He is lettere of love, And lieth hem alle That trusten on his tresour; Bitrayeth he hem sonnest." 600
Thanne hadde I wonder in my wit What womman it weere, That swiche wise wordes Of holy writ shewed; And asked hire on the heighe name, Er she thennes yede, What she were witterly That wissed me so faire.
"Holi chirche I am," quod she, "Thow oughtest me to knowe; 610 I underfeng thee first, And the feith taughte; And broughtest me borwes My biddyng to fulfille, And to loven me leelly The while thi lif dureth."
Thanne I courbed on my knees, And cried hire of grace; And preide hire pitously {20} Preye for my sinnes, 620 And also kenne me kyndely On Crist to bi-leve, That I myghte werchen his wille That wroghte me to man. "Teche me to no tresor, But tel me this ilke, How I may save my soule, That seint art y-holden."
"Whan alle tresors arn tried," quod she, "Treuthe is the beste; 630 I do it on _Deus caritas_, To deme the sothe, It is as dereworthe a drury As deere God hymselven.
"Who is trewe of his tonge, And telleth noon oother, And dooth the werkes therwith, And wilneth no man ille, He is a God by the gospel A-grounde and o-lofte, 640 And y-lik to oure Lord, By seint Lukes wordes. The clerkes that knowen this, Sholde kennen it aboute, For cristen and un-cristen Cleymeth it echone.
"Kynges and knyghtes Sholde kepen it by reson, Riden and rappen doun In reaumes aboute, 650 And taken _transgressores_, And tyen hem faste, Til treuthe hadde y-termyned {21} Hire trespas to the ende. And that is profession apertli That apendeth to knyghtes; And naught to fasten o friday In fyve score wynter, But holden with hym and with here That wolden alle truthe, 660 And nevere leve hem for love Ne for lacchynge of silver. For David in hise dayes Dubbed knyghtes, And dide hem sweren on hir swerdes To serven truthe evere; And who so passed that point Was apostata in the ordre.
"But Crist kyngene kyng Knyghted ten, 670 Cherubyn and seraphyn, Swiche sevene and othere And yaf hem myght in his majestee, The murier hem thoughte, And over his meene meynee Made hem archangeles; Taughte hem by the Trinitee Treuthe to knowe; To be buxom at his biddyng, He bad hem nought ellis. 680
"Lucifer with legions Lerned it in hevene; But for he brak buxomnesse His blisse gan he tyne, And fel fro that felawshipe In a fendes liknesse, Into a deep derk helle, {22} To dwelle there for evere; And mo thousandes myd hym Than man kouthe nombre 690 Lopen out with Lucifer In lothliche forme, For thei leveden upon hym That lyed in this manere: _Ponam pedem in aquilone, et similis ero altissimo._ =
"And alle that hoped it myghte be so, Noon hevene myghte hem holde, But fellen out in fendes liknesse Nyne dayes togideres, 700 Til God of his goodnesse Gan stablisse and stynte, And garte the hevene to stekie And stonden in quiete.
"Whan thise wikkede wenten out, In wonder wise thei fellen; Somme in the eyr, somme in erthe, And somme in helle depe; Ac Lucifer lowest lith Yet of hem alle, 710 For pride that he putte out, His peyne hath noon ende. And alle that werchen with wrong, Wende thei shulle, After hir deth day And dwelle with that sherewe.
"And tho that werche wel, As holy writ telleth, And enden as I er seide In truthe, that is the beste, 720 Mowe be siker that hire soules {23} Shul wende to hevene, Ther treuthe is in trinitee, And troneth hem alle. For-thi I seye, as I seyde er, By sighte of thise textes, Whan alle tresors arn tried, Truthe is the beste; Lereth it thise lewed men, For lettred men it knoweth, 730 That treuthe is tresor The trieste on erthe."
"Yet have I no kynde knowyng." quod I, "Ye mote kenne me bettre, By what craft in my cors It comseth, and where."
"Thow doted daffe," quod she, "Dulle are thi wittes; To litel Latyn thow lernedest, Leode, in thi youthe." 740 _Heu michi! quia sterilem duxi vitam juvenilem._ =
"It is a kynde knowyng," quod she, "That kenneth in thyn herte, For to loven thi Lord Levere than thiselve, No dedly synne to do, Deye theigh thow sholdest; This I trowe be truthe. Who kan teche thee bettre, 750 Loke thow suffre hym to seye, And sithen lere it after; For truthe telleth that love Is triacle of hevene. May no synne be on hym seene, {24} That useth that spice, And alle hise werkes be wroughte With love as hym liste; And lered it Moyses for the leveste thyng, And moost lik to hevene, 760 And al so the plentee of pees Moost precious of vertues; For hevene myghte nat holden it, It was so hevy of hymself, Til it hadde of the erthe Eten his fille.
"And whan it hadde of this fold Flesshe and blood taken, Was nevere leef upon lynde Lighter therafter, 770 And portatif and persaunt As the point of a nedle, That myghte noon armure it lette, Ne none heighe walles.
"For-thi is love ledere Of the Lordes folk of hevene, And a meene, as the mair is Bitwene the kyng and the commune; Right so is love a ledere, And the law shapeth, 780 Upon man for hise mysdedes The mercyment he taxeth. And for to knowen it kyndely It comseth by myght, And in the herte there is the heed And the heighe welle; For in kynde knowynge in herte, Ther a myght bigynneth; And that falleth to the fader {25} That formed us alle, 790 Loked on us with love, And leet his sone dye Mekely for oure mysdedes, To amenden us alle. And yet wolde he hem no wo That wroughte hym that peyne, But mekely with mouthe Mercy bisoughte, To have pité of that peple That peyned hym to dethe. 800
"There myghtow sen ensample In hymself oone, That he was myghtful and meke, And mercy gan graunte To hem that hengen hym on heigh And his herte thirled.
"For-thi I rede yow, riche, Haveth ruthe of the povere; Though ye be myghtful to mote, Beeth meke in youre werkes, 810 For the same mesures that ye mete, Amys outher ellis, Ye shulle ben weyen therwith Whan ye wenden hennes. _Eadem mensura qua mensi fueritis, remetietur vobis._ =
"For though ye be trewe of youre tonge And treweliche wynne, And as chaste as a child That in chirche wepeth, 820 But if ye loven leelly And lene the povere, Swich good as God yow sent {26} Goodliche parteth, Ye ne have namoore merite In masse nor in houres, Than Malkyn of hire maydenhede That no man desireth.
"For James the gentile Jugged in hise bokes, 830 That feith withouten the feet Is right no thyng worthi, And as deed as a dore-tree, But if the dedes folwe. _Fides sine operibus mortua est, etc._
"For-thi chastité withouten charité Worth cheyned in helle; It is as lewed as a lampe That no light is inne. Manye chapeleyns arn chaste, 840 Ac charité is aweye; Are no men avarouser than hii Whan thei ben avaunced, Unkynde to hire kyn, And to alle cristene Chewen hire charité, And chiden after moore; Swiche chastité withouten charité Worth cheyned in helle.
"Manye curatours kepen hem 850 Clene of hire bodies; Thei ben acombred with coveitise, Thei konne noght doon it from hem, So harde hath avarice Y-hasped hem togideres; And that is no truthe of the Trinité, But tricherie of helle, {27} And lernynge to lewed men The latter for to deele. For-thi thise wordes 860 Ben writen in the gospel, _Date, et dabitur vobis_, For I deele yow alle, And that is the lok of love, And leteth out my grace, To conforten the carefulle A-combred with synne.
"Love is leche of lif, And next oure Lord selve, And also the graithe gate 870 That goth into hevene; For-thi I seye, as I seide Er by the textes, Whan alle tresors ben tried, Treuthe is the beste.
"Now have I told thee what truthe is, That no tresor is bettre; I may no lenger lenge thee with, Now loke thee oure Lorde." 879
* * * * *
{28}
_Passus Secundus de Visione, ut supra._
Yet I courbed on my knees, 880 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! Bothe Fals and Favel, 890 And hire feeres manye."
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; Fetisliche hire fyngres 900 Were fretted with gold wyr, And theron rede rubies As rede as any gleede, {29} And diamaundes of derrest pris, And double manere saphires, Orientals and ewages, Envenymes to destroye.
Hire robe was ful riche, Of reed scarlet engreyned, With ribanes of reed gold 910 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?"
"That is Mede the mayde," quod she, "Hath noyed me ful ofte, And y-lakked my lemman 920 That Leautee is hoten, And bi-lowen hire to lordes That lawes han to kepe.
"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, And nevere sooth seide 930 Sithen he com to erthe; And Mede is manered after hym, Right as kynde asketh _Qualis pater talis filius. Bonus arbor bonum fructum facit._
"I oughte ben hyere than she, I kam of a bettre; {30} My fader the grete God is And ground of alle graces, So God withouten gynnyng, 940 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, That he shal lese for hire love 950 A lappe of _caritatis_.
"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._ =
"And now worth this Mede y-maried 960 Unto a mansed sherewe, 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-maked The maydenes bridale, And there myghtow witen, if thow wilt, 970 Whiche thei ben alle {31} 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. Now I bikenne thee Crist," quod she, 980 "And his clene moder, And lat no conscience acombre thee For coveitise of 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, Were boden to the bridale 990 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, Bedelles and baillifs, 1000 And brocours of chaffare, Forgoers and vitaillers, And advokettes of the arches; I kan noght rekene the route That ran aboute Mede. {32}
Ac Symonie and Cyvylle, And sisours of courtes, Were moost pryvee with Mede Of any men, me thoughte. Ac Favel was the firste 1010 That fette hire out of boure, And as a brocour broughte hire To be with Fals enjoyned.
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!" That Gile with hise grete othes 1020 Gaf hem togidere, And preide Cyvylle to see, And Symonye to rede it.
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: _Sciant præsentes et futuri, etc._ 1030
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 {33} Feffeth by this chartre, 1040 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 Envye And Wrathe togideres, 1050 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 Leccherie In lengthe and in brede, 1060 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 drynken At diverse tavernes, 1070 And there to jangle and jape, And jugge hir even cristen; And in fastynge dayes to frete {34} 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 Sliken hise sydes, 1080 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 purgatorie = Into the pyne of helle. 1091
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, And Piers the pardoner 1100 Of Paulynes doctrine, Bette the bedel Of Bokyngham shire, Reynald the reve Of Rutland sokene, Maude the millere, And many mo othere. {35}
In the date of the devel This dede I ensele, By sighte of Sire Symonie 1110 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!
"For Mede is muliere 1120 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; For _Dignus est operarius_ His hire to have, And thow hast fest hire to Fals, 1130 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!
"Wel ye witen, wernardes, 1140 But if youre wit faille, {36} 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.
"For-thi wercheth by wisdom, 1150 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, And Conscience is of his counseil, 1160 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.
Thanne fette Favel forth 1170 Floryns ynowe, And bad Gile to gyven Gold al aboute, And namely to the notaries That hem noon ne faille, {37} And feffe false witnesses With floryns ynowe, "For thei may Mede a-maistrye, And maken at my wille."
Tho this gold was y-gyve, 1180 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; For we have Mede a-maistried 1190 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, And leten somone alle segges 1200 In shires aboute, And bad hem alle be bown, Beggers and othere, To wenden with hem to Westmynstre To witnesse this dede.
Ac thanne cared thei for caples To carien hem thider, And Favel fette forth thanne Foles ynowe, {38} And sette Mede upon a sherreve 1210 Shoed al newe.
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 Cyvylle Sholde on hire feet gange.
Ac thanne swoor Symonye, 1220 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, Erchdekenes and officials, 1230 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 pryvees For pleintes in consistorie, Shul serven myself 1240 That Cyvyle is nempned.
"And cart-sadle the commissarie, Oure cart shal he lede, {39} And fecchen us vitailles. At _Fornicatores_. And maketh of Lyere a lang cart To leden alle thise othere, As freres and faitours, That on hire feet rennen."
And thus Fals and Favel 1250 Fareth forth togideres, And Mede in the middes, And alle thise men after.
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, And priked his palfrey, 1260 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 myghte Fals or Favel, Or any of hise feeris, I wolde be wroken of tho wrecches 1270 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." {40}
And comaunded a constable That com at the firste, To attachen tho tyrauntz, 1280 "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; And bryngeth Mede to me 1290 Maugree hem alle."
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, And bad hym fle for fere, 1300 And hise felawes alle.
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, Apparailed hym as apprentice 1310 The peple to serve. {41}
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, Til pardoners hadde pité, 1320 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, That he sholde wonye with hem 1330 Watres to loke.
Spycers speken with hym, To spien hire ware; For he kouthe of hir craft, And knewe manye gommes.
And mynstrales and messagers Mette with hym ones, And helden hym an half-yeer And ellevene dayes.
Freres with fair speche 1340 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, {42} And is welcome whan he wile, And woneth with hem ofte.