Part 9

Whan thei drawen on to deye, And indulgences wolde have, Hir pardon is ful petit At hir partyng hennes, That any mede of mene men For hir motyng taketh. Ye legistres and lawieres, Holdeth this for truthe, That if that I lye, Mathew is to blame, 4590 {142} For he bad me make yow this, And this proverbe me tolde, _Quodcunque vultis ut faciant vobis homines, facite eis._

Alle libbynge laborers That lyven with hir hondes, That treweliche taken, And treweliche wynnen, And lyven in love and in lawe, For hir lowe hertes 4600 Haveth the same absolucion That sent was to Piers.

Beggeres ne bidderes Ne beth noght in the bulle, But if the suggestion be sooth That shapeth hem to begge. For he that beggeth or bit, But if he have nede, He is fals with the feend, And defraudeth the nedy; 4610 And also he bi-gileth the gyvere, Ageynes his wille; For if he wiste he were noght nedy, He wolde gyve that another That were moore nedy than he, So the nedieste sholde be holpe. Caton kenneth me thus, And the clerc of stories; _Cui des videto_, Is Catons techyng. 4620

And in the stories he techeth To bistowe thyn almesse. _Sit elemosina tua in manu tua, donec studes cui des._ {143}

Ac Gregory was a good man, And bad us gyven alle That asketh for his love That us al leneth. _Non eligas cui miserearis, ne forte prætereas illum qui meretur 4630 accipere. Quia incertum est pro quo Deo magis placeas._

For wite ye nevere who is worthi, Ac God woot who hath nede; In hym that taketh is the trecherie, If any treson walke. For he that yeveth, yeldeth, And yarketh hym to reste; And he that biddeth, borweth, And bryngeth hymself in dette. 4640 For beggeres borwen evere mo, And hir borgh is God almyghty, To yelden hem that yeveth hem, And yet usure moore. _Quare non dedisti pecuniam meam ad mensam, ut ego veniam cum usuris exigere?_

For-thi biddeth noght, ye beggeres, But if ye have gret nede; For who so hath to buggen hym breed, 4650 The book bereth witnesse, He hath y-nough that hath breed y-nough, Though he have noght ellis. _Satis dives est, qui non indiget pane._

Lat usage be youre solas, Of seintes lyves redyng, The book banneth beggerie, {144} And blameth hem in this manere: _Junior fui, et jam senui, et non vidi justum derelictum, nec semen 4660 ejus, etc._

For ye lyve in no love, Ne no lawe holde; Manye of yow ne wedde noght The womman that ye with deele, But as wilde bestes with 'wehee!' Worthen uppe and werchen, And bryngen forth barnes, That bastardes men calleth; Or the bak or som boon 4670 He breketh in his youthe, And siththe goon faiten with youre fauntes For evere moore after. Ther is moore mys-shapen peple Amonges thise beggeres, Than of alle manere men That on this moolde walketh. And thei that lyve thus hir lif, Mowe lothe the tyme That evere thei were men wroght, 4680 Whan thei shal hennes fare. Ac olde men and hore, Than help-lees ben of strengthe, And wommen with childe That werche ne mowe, Blynde and bed-reden, And broken hire membres, That taken thise myschiefs mekeliche, As mesels and othere, Han as pleyn pardon 4690 As the plowman hymselve. {145} For love of hir lowe hertes, Oure Lord hath hem graunted Hir penaunce and hir purgatorie Here on this erthe.

"Piers," quod a preest thoo, "Thi pardon moste I rede; For I wol construe ech clause, And kenne it thee on Englisshe."

And Piers at his preiere 4700 The pardon unfoldeth; And I by-hynde hem bothe Biheld al the bulle, And in two lynes it lay, And noght a leef more, And was writen right thus, In witnesse of Truthe: _Et qui bona egerunt, ibunt in vitam eternam. = Qui vero mala, in ignem eternum._ 4710

"Peter," quod the preest thoo, "I kan no pardon fynde, But do wel and have wel, And God shal have thi soule, And do yvel and have yvel, Hope thow noon oother, But after thi deeth-day The devel shal have thi soule." And Piers for pure tene Pulled it a-tweyne, 4720 And seide _Si ambulavero in medio umbræ mortis, non timebo mala, quoniam tu mecum es._

"I shal cessen of my sowyng," quod Piers, = {146} "And swynke noght so harde, Ne aboute my bely joye So bisy be na-moore; Of preieres and of penaunce My plough shal ben herafter, 4730 And wepen whan I sholde slepe, Though whete-breed me faille.

"The prophete his payn eet In penaunce and in sorwe, By that the Sauter seith, So dide othere manye; That loveth God lelly, His liflode is ful esy. _Fuerunt mihi lacrimæ meæ panes die ac nocte._ 4740

"And but if Luc lye, He lereth us by foweles, We sholde noght be to bisy Aboute the worldes blisse; _Ne soliciti sitis_, He seith in the Gospel, And sheweth us by ensamples Us selve to wisse. The foweles in the feld, Who fynt hem mete at wynter? 4750 Have thei no gerner to go to, But God fynt hem alle."

"What!" quod the preest to Perkyn, "Peter! as me thynketh, Thow art lettred a litel:-- Who lerned thee on boke?"

"Abstynence the abbesse," quod Piers, "Myn a.b.c. me taughte; And Conscience cam afterward, And kenned me muche moore." 4760 {147}

"Were thow a preest," quod he, "Thou myghtest preche where thou sholdest, As divinour in divinité, With _Dixit insipiens_ to thi teme."

"Lewed lorel!" quod Piers, "Litel lokestow on the Bible; On Salomons sawes Selden thow biholdest: _Ejice derisores et jurgia cum eis, ne crescant, etc._" 4770

The preest and Perkyn Opposeden either oother. And I thorugh hir wordes a-wook, And waited aboute, And seigh the sonne in the south Sitte that tyme, Mete-lees and monei-lees On Malverne hulles, Musynge on this metels, And my wey ich yede. 4780

Many tyme this metels Hath maked me to studie Of that I seigh slepynge, If it so be myghte, And also for Piers the Plowman Ful pencif in herte, And which a pardon Piers hadde Al the peple to conforte, And how the preest impugned it With two propre wordes. 4790 Ac I have no savour in songewarie, For I se it ofte faille; Caton and canonistres Counseillen us to leve {148} To sette sadnesse in songewarie, For _sompnia ne cures_.

Ac for the book Bible Bereth witnesse How Daniel divined The dreem of a kyng, 4800 That was Nabugodonosor Nempned of clerkes.

Daniel seide, "Sire kyng, Thi dremels bitokneth That unkouthe knyghtes shul come Thi kyngdom to cleyme; Amonges lower lordes Thi lond shal be departed." And as Daniel divined, In dede it fel after; 4810 The kyng lees his lordshipe, And lower men it hadde.

And Joseph mette merveillously How the moone and the sonne And the ellevene sterres Hailsed hym alle.

Thanne Jacob jugged Josephes swevene. "Beau fitz," quod his fader, "For defaute we shullen, 4820 I myself and my sones, Seche thee for nede."

It bifel as his fader seide, In Pharaoes tyme, That Joseph was justice Egipte to loke; It bifel as his fader tolde, Hise frendes there hym soughte, And al this maketh me {149} On this metels to thynke. 4830 And how the preest preved No pardon to Do-wel, And demed that Do-wel Indulgences passed, Biennals and triennals, And bisshopes lettres; And how Do-wel at the day of dome Is digneliche underfongen, And passeth al the pardon Of seint Petres cherche. 4840

Now hath the pope power Pardon to graunte the peple, Withouten any penaunce To passen into hevene; This is oure bileve, As lettred men us techeth: _Quodcumque ligaveris super terram, erit ligatum et in coelis, etc._ =

And so I leve leelly, 4850 Lordes forbode ellis! That pardon and penaunce And preieres doon save Soules that have synned Seven sithes dedly; Ac to truste to thise triennals, Trewely me thynketh, Is noght so siker for the soule, Certes, as is Do-wel.

For-thi I rede yow, renkes, 4860 That riche ben on this erthe, Upon trust of youre tresor Triennals to have, Be ye never the bolder {150} To breake the .x. hestes; And namely ye maistres, Meires and jugges, That have the welthe of this world And for wise men ben holden, To purchace yow pardon 4870 And the popes bulles. At the dredful dome, Whan dede shulle rise, And comen alle to-fore Crist Acountes to yelde, How thow laddest thi lif here, And hise lawes keptest, And how thow didest day by day, The doom wole reherce. A poke ful of pardon there, 4880 Ne provincials lettres, Theigh ye be founde in the fraternité Of alle the foure ordres, And have indulgences double-fold, But if Do-wel yow helpe, I sette youre patentes and youre pardon At one pies hele.

For-thi I counseille alle Cristene To crie God mercy, And Marie his moder 4890 Be oure meene bitwene, That God gyve us grace here, Er we go hennes, Swiche werkes to werche While we ben here, That after oure deeth-day Do-wel reherce At the day of dome, We dide as he highte. 4899

* * * * *

{151}

_Passus Octavus de Visione, et incipit Do-wel._

Thus y-robed in russet 4900 I romed aboute Al a somer seson For to seke Do-wel; And frayned ful ofte Of folk that I mette, If any wight wiste Wher Do-wel was at inne; And what man he myghte be Of many man I asked.

Was nevere wight, as I wente, 4910 That me wisse kouthe Where this leode lenged, Lasse ne moore; Til it bi-fel on a Friday Two freres I mette, Maistres of the menours, Men of grete witte. I hailsed hem hendely, As I hadde y-lerned, And preide hem _par charité_, 4920 Er thei passed ferther, If thei knewe any contree Or costes, as thei wente, {152} "Where that Do-wel dwelleth Dooth me to witene." For thei be men of this moolde That moost wide walken, And knowen contrees and courtes, And many kynnes places, Bothe princes paleises 4930 And povere mennes cotes, And Do-wel and Do-yvele Wher thei dwelle bothe.

"Amonges us," quod the Menours, "That man is dwellynge, And evere hath, as I hope, And evere shal herafter."

"_Contra_," quod I as a clerc, And comsed to disputen, And seide hem soothly, 4940 "_Septies in die cadit justus._ Sevene sithes, seith the book, Synneth the rightfulle; And who so synneth," I seide, "Dooth yvele, as me thynketh; And Do-wel and Do-yvele Mowe noght dwelle togideres. _Ergo_ he nys noght alwey Amonges yow freres; He is outher while ellis where 4950 To wisse the peple."

"I shal seye thee, my sone," Seide the frere thanne, "How seven sithes the sadde man On a day synneth; By a forbisne," quod the frere, "I shal thee faire shewe. {153} Lat brynge a man in a boot Amydde the brode watre, The wynd and the water 4960 And the boot waggyng Maketh the man many a tyme To falle and to stonde; For stonde he never so stif, He stumbleth if he meve, Ac yet is he saaf and sound, And so hym bihoveth. For if he ne arise the rather, And raughte to the steere, The wynd wolde with the water 4970 The boot over throwe; And thanne were his lif lost, Through lachesse of hymselve.

"And thus it falleth," quod the frere, "By folk here on erthe; The water is likned to the world That wanyeth and wexeth; The goodes of this grounde arn lik To the grete wawes, That as wyndes and wedres 4980 Walketh aboute; The boot is likned to oure body That brotel is of kynde, That thorugh the fend and the flesshe And the frele worlde Synneth the sadde man A day seven sithes.

"Ac dedly synne doth he noght, For Do-wel hym kepeth; And that is charité the champion, 4990 Chief help ayein synne; {154} For he strengheth men to stonde, And steereth mannes soule, And though the body bowe As boot dooth in the watre, Ay is thi soule saaf, But if thow wole thiselve Do a deedly synne, And drenche so thi soule, God wole suffre wel thi sleuthe, 5000 If thiself liketh. For he yaf thee a yeres-gyve, To yeme wel thiselve, And that is wit and free-wil, To every wight a porcion, To fleynge foweles, To fisshes and to beestes; Ac man hath moost therof, And moost is to blame, But if he werche wel therwith, 5010 As Do-wel hym teacheth."

"I have no kynde knowyng," quod I, "To conceyven alle youre wordes; Ac if I may lyve and loke, I shal go lerne bettre."

"I bikenne thee Crist," quod he, "That on cros deyde!" And I seide, "The same Save yow fro myschaunce, And gyve yow grace on this grounde 5020 Goode men to worthe!"

And thus I wente wide wher Walkyng myn one, By a wilde wildernesse, {155} And by a wodes side; Blisse of the briddes Broughte me a-slepe, And under a lynde upon a launde Lened I a stounde, To lythe the layes 5030 Tho lovely foweles made. Murthe of hire mouthes Made me ther to sleple; The marveillouseste metels Mette me thanne That ever dremed wight In world, as I wene.

A muche man, as me thoughte, And lik to myselve, Cam and called me 5040 By my kynde name.

"What artow?" quod I tho, "That thow my name knowest."

"That thou woost wel," quod he, "And no wight bettre."

"Woot I what thow art?" "Thought," seide he thanne; "I have sued thee this seven yeer, Seye thow me no rather."

"Artow Thought," quod I thoo, 5050 "Thow koudest me wisse, Where that Do-wel dwelleth, And do me that to knowe."

"Do-wel and Do-bet, And Do-best the thridde," quod he, "Arn thre fair vertues, And ben noght fer to fynde. Who so is trewe of his tunge, {156} And of his two handes, And thorugh his labour, or thorugh his land, 5060 His liflode wynneth, And is trusty of his tailende, Taketh but his owene, And his noght dronklewe ne dedeynous, Do-wel hym folweth.

"Do-bet dooth right thus: Ac he dooth muche moore; He is as lowe as a lomb, And lovelich of speche, And helpeth alle men 5070 After that hem nedeth. The bagges and the bigirdles, He hath to-broke hem alle, That the erl Avarous Heeld and hise heires. And thus with Mammonaes moneie He hath maad hym frendes, And is ronne to religion, And hath rendred the Bible, And precheth to the peple 5080 Seint Poules wordes: _Libenter suffertis insipientes, cum sitis ipsi sapientes._

"And suffreth the unwise With yow for to libbe; And with glad wille dooth hem good, For so God yow hoteth.

"Do-best is above bothe, And bereth a bisshopes crosse, Is hoked on that oon ende 5090 To halie men fro helle; A pik is on that potente, {157} To putte a-down the wikked That waiten any wikkednesse Do-wel to tene. And Do-wel and Do-bet Amonges hem han ordeyned, To crowne oon to be kyng To rulen hem bothe; That if Do-wel or Do-bet 5100 Dide ayein Do-best, Thanne shal the kyng come And casten hem in irens, And but if Do-best bede for hem, Thei to be ther for evere.

"Thus Do-wel and Do-bet, And Do-best the thridde, Crouned oon to the kyng To kepen hem alle, And to rule the reme 5110 By hire thre wittes, And noon oother wise But as thei thre assented."

I thonked Thoght tho, That he me thus taughte. "Ac yet savoreth me noght thi seying; I coveite to lerne How Do-wel, Do-bet, and Do-best Doon among the peple."

"But Wit konne wisse thee," quod Thoght, 5120 "Wher tho thre dwelle, Ellis woot I noon that kan That now is alyve."

Thoght and I thus Thre daies we yeden, Disputyng upon Do-wel {158} Day after oother; And ere we were war, With Wit gonne we mete. He was long and lene, 5130 Lik to noon other; Was no pride on his apparaille, Ne poverte neither; Sad of his semblaunt, And of softe chere. I dorste meve no matere To maken hym to jangle, But as I bad Thoght thoo Be mene bitwene, And pute forth som purpos 5140 To preven hise wittes, What was Do-wel fro Do-bet, And Do-best from hem bothe.

Thanne Thoght in that tyme Seide thise wordes: "Where Do-wel, Do-bet, And Do-best ben in londe, Here is Wil wolde wite, If Wit koude teche hym; And wheither he be man or womman This man fayn wolde aspie, And werchen as thei thre wolde, Thus is his entente." 5153

* * * * *

{159}

_Passus Nonus de Visione, ut supra, et Primus de Do-wel_

"Sire Do-wel dwelleth," quod Wit, 5154 "Noght a day hennes, In a castel that Kynde made Of four kynnes thynges; Of erthe and of eyr it is maad, Medled togideres, With wynd and with water 5160 Witterly enjoyned. Kynde hath closed therinne Craftily withalle A lemman that he loveth Lik to hymselve; _Anima_ she hatte. Ac envye hir hateth, A proud prikere of Fraunce, _Princeps hujus mundi_, And wolde wynne hire awey 5170 With wiles, and he myghte.

"Ac Kynde knoweth this wel, And kepeth hire the bettre, And dooth hire with sire Do-wel, Is duc of thise marches.

"Do-bet is hire damyselle, Sire Do-weles doughter, {160} To serven this lady leelly Bothe late and rathe.

"Do-best is above bothe, 5180 A bisshopes peere; That he bit moot be do, He ruleth hem alle. _Anima_, that lady, Is lad by his leryng. Ac the constable of that castel, That kepeth al the wacche, Is a wis knyght withalle, Sire Inwit he hatte, And hathe fyve faire sones 5190 Bi his firste wyve; Sire Se-wel, and Sey-wel, And Here-wel the hende, Sire Werch-wel-with-thyn-hand, A wight man of strengthe, And sire Godefray Go-wel; Grete lordes, for sothe. Thise fyve ben set To kepe this lady _Anima_, Til Kynde come or sende 5200 To saven hire for evere."

"What kynnes thyng is Kynde?" quod I, "Kanstow me telle?"

"Kynde," quod Wit, "is a creatour Of alle kynnes thynges, Fader and formour Of al that evere was maked; And that is the grete God That gynnyng hadde nevere, Lord of lif and of light, 5210 Of lisse and of peyne. {161} Aungeles and alle thyng Arn at his wille; Ac man is hym moost lik Of marc and of shafte; For thorugh the word that he spak Woxen forth beestes. _Dixit et facta sunt._

"And made man likkest To hymself one, 5220 And Eve of his ryb-bon, Withouten any mene, For he was synguler hymself; And seide _faciamus_, As who seith moore moot herto Than my word oone, My myght moot helpe Forth with my speche. Right as a lord sholde make lettres, And hym lakked parchemyn, 5230 Though he koude write never so wel, If he hadde no penne, The lettre, for al the lordshipe, I leve were nevere y-maked.

"And so it semeth by hym, As the Bible telleth, There he seide _Dixit et facta sunt_, He moste werche with his word, And his wit shewe. And in this manere was man maad, 5240 Thorugh myght of God almighty, With his word and werkmanshipe, And with lif to laste. And thus God gaf hym a goost, Thorugh the godhede of hevene, {162} And of his grete grace Graunted hym blisse, And that is lif that ay shal laste To al his lynage after. And that is the castel that Kynde made, 5250 _Caro_ it hatte, And is as muche to mene As man with a soule; And that he wroghte with werk, And with word bothe, Thorgh myght of the magesté Man was y-maked.

"Inwit and alle wittes Closed ben therinne, For love of the lady _Anima_, 5260 That lif is y-nempned; Over al in mannes body He walketh and wandreth. And in the herte is hir hoom And hir mooste reste.

"Ac Inwit is in the heed, And to the herte he loketh; What _Anima_ is leef or looth, He lat hire at his wille; For after the grace of God, 5270 The gretteste is Inwit.

"Muche wo worth that man That mys-ruleth his Inwit; And that ben glotons glubberes, Hir God is hire wombe. _Quorum deus venter est._

"For thei serven Sathan, Hir soules shal he have. That lyven synful lif here, {163} Hir soule is lich the devil; 5280 And alle that lyven good lif Are lik to God almyghty, _Qui manet in caritate, in Deo manet, etc._ =

"Alas! that drynke shal for-do That God deere boughte, And dooth God forsaken hem That he shoop to his liknesse. _Amen dico vobis, nescio vos. Et alibi: Et dimisi eos secundum desideria 5290 eorum._

"Fools that fauten Inwit, I fynde that holy chirche Sholde fynden hem that hem fauted, And fader-lese children, And widewes that han noght wherwith To wynnen hem hir foode, Madde men, and maydenes That help-lese were, Alle thise lakken Inwit, 5300 And loore bihoveth.

"Of this matere I myghte Make a long tale, And fynde fele witnesses Among the foure doctours; And that I lye noght of that I lere thee, Luc bereth witnesse.

"God-fadres and god-modres, That seen hire god-children At mys-eise and at myschief, 5310 And mowe hem amende, Shul have penaunce in purgatorie But thei hem helpe. {164} For moore bilongeth to the litel barn, Er he the lawe knowe, Than nempnynge of a name, And he never the wiser. Sholde no cristene creature Cryen at the yate, Ne faille payn ne potage, 5320 And prelates dide as thei sholden. A Jew wolde noght se a Jew Go janglyng for defaute, For alle the mebles on this moolde, And he amende it myghte.

"Alas! that a cristene creature Shal be unkynde til another; Syn Jewes, that we jugge Judas felawes, Eyther of hem helpeth oother 5330 Of that that hem nedeth. Whi nel we cristene Of Cristes good be as kynde As Jewes, that ben oure lores-men? Shame to us alle! The commune for hir unkyndenesse, I drede me, shul abye.

"Bisshopes shul be blamed For beggeres sake. He is wors than Judas, 5340 That gyveth a japer silver, And biddeth the beggere go, For his broke clothes. _Proditor est prælatus cum Juda, qui patrimonium Christi mimis distribuit. Et alibi: Perniciosus dispensator est, qui res {165} pauperum Christi inutiliter consumit._

"He dooth noght wel that dooth thus, 5350 Ne drat noght God almyghty; He loveth noght Salomons sawes, That sapience taughte. _Initium sapientiæ, timor Domini._

"That dredeth God, he dooth wel; That dredeth him for love, And noght for drede of vengeaunce, Dooth therfore the bettre.

"He dooth best that with-draweth hym By daye and by nyghte, 5360 To spille any speche Or any space of tyme. _Qui offendit in uno, in omnibus est reus._ =

"Lesynge of tyme, Truthe woot the sothe, Is moost y-hated upon erthe Of hem that ben in hevene; And siththe to spille speche, That spicerie is of grace, 5370 And Goddes gle-man, And a game of hevene. Wolde nevere the feithful fader This fithele were un-tempred, Ne his gle-man a gedelyng, A goere to tavernes.

"To alle trewe tidy men That travaille desiren, Oure Lord loveth hem and lent Loude outher stille 5380 {166} Grace to go to hem, And of-gon hir liflode. _Inquirentes autem Dominum non minuentur omni bono._