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Hough the coroune moste be kepte fro covetous peuple
Al hoole in his hande and at his heeste eke,
That every knotte of the coroune close with other,
And not departid for prayer ne profit of grete,
Leste uncunnyng come yn and caste up the halter
And crie on your cunseil for coigne that ye lacke,
For thay shal smaicche of the smoke and smerte thereafter
Whenne collectours comen to caicche what thay habben. 1
And though your tresorier be trewe and tymbre not to high, 2
Hit wil be nere the worse atte wyke-is ende,
For two yere a tresorier twenty wyntre aftre
May lyve a lordis life, as leued men tellen.
Now your chanchellier that chief is to chaste the peuple
With conscience of your cunseil that the coroune kepith,
And alle the scribes and clercz that to the court longen,
Bothe justice and juges yjoyned and other,
Sergeantz that serven for soulde atte barre,
And the prentys of court, prisist of alle,
Loke ye reeche not of the riche and rewe on the poure 3
That for faute of your fees fallen in thaire pleyntes.
Have pitie on the penylees and thaire pleynte harkeneth,
And hire thaym as hertly as though ye hure had, 4
For the love of Hym that your life weldeth;
And graunteth thaym for Godis sake and with a good chiere
The writing of writtz and the waxe eke;
And thay wil love you for the lawe as liege men aughte,
More thenne for mayntenance that any man useth,
Or for any frounting for faute of the coigne.
Now ye have yherde of the haselle names
Of officiers withynne and withoute eke,
But yit of alle the burnes the beste is behinde
Forto serve a souvrayn in somer and in wintre,
And most nedeful at eve and at morowe eke,
And a profitable page for princes or for ducz
Or for any lay lord, lettrid or elles,
That litel is ytake fourth or his tale lyeved.
And yf ye willeth to wite what the wight hatte, 5
Hit is a Sothesigger that seilde is yseye
To be cherisshid of chief in chambre or in halle,
But for his rathe reasons is rebukid ofte,
And yf he fable to ferre, the foote he goeth undre. 6
There is no clerc with the king that clothid hym ones,
But clothid hym at Cristmasse and al the yere after. 7
"Saunder the serviselees" shuld be his name,
For he abideth in no houshold half a yere to th'ende
But the lord and the lady been loeth of his wordes,
And the meyny and he mowe not accorde,
But al to-teereth his toppe for his trewe tales.
He can not speke in termes ne in tyme nother,
But bablith fourth bustusely as barn un-ylerid; 8
But ever he hitteth on the heed of the nayle-is ende,
That the pure poynt pricketh on the sothe
Til the foule flessh vomy for attre.
Thenne is this freeke afrountid for his feithful tale,
And yfulled undre foote while falsenes goeth aboute
With cautelle and with coigne forto caste deceiptz 9
Hough trouthe might be traverssid and tournid of the weye. 10
Thenne fareth fals fourth and flatereth atte beste,
And lightly is ylyved withoute long tale,
And every gome of hym glad, so glorieusely he loketh
Thorough the peynture of the preynte that in the palme hongeth. 11
Right as the cockil cometh fourth ere the corne ripe,
With a cleer colour, as cristal hit semeth,
Among the grayne that is grene and not ful growe,
Right so fareth falsnesse that so freysh loketh
Thorough the colour of the crosse that many men incumbreth.
But whenne trouthe aftre tornement hath tyme forto kerne
And to growe fro the grounde anone to th'ende,
Thenne fadeth the flour of the fals cockil.
That lykne I to lyers, for atte the long goyng,
Of every segge-is sawe the sothe wol be knowe. 12
Yit is hit not my cunseil to clatre what me knoweth
In sclaundre ne scathe ne scorne of thy brother,
For though thy tale be trewe, thyn tente might be noyous,
For whiche thou mighte be harmed and have that thou serves. 13
For go to the Gospel, that ground is of lore,
And there shal thou see thyself, yf thou can rede,
Whethir I wisse thee wel wisely or elles.
He seith that thou shuldes the synne of thy brother
Telle hym by tyme and til hymsilf oon,
Yn ful wil to amende hym of his myssedeedes.
Si peccauerit in te frater tuus corrige etc. 14
And yf he chargeth not thy charité but chideth thee agaynes,
Yit leve hym not so lightly though he loure oones,
But funde hym to freyne efte of the newe,
And have wittenes thee with that thou wel knowes,
And spare not to speke, spede yf thou mowe,
And he that moost is of might thy mede shal quite
For suche soeth sawes that sounen into good,
And of a reasonable man rewarde to have.
For whenne thy tente and thy tale been temprid in oone,
And menys no malice to man that thou spekys,
But forto mende hym mukely of his missedeedes,
Sory for his synne and his shrewed taicches,
And the burne be yblessid and balys cunne eschewe
And thrifty and towarde, thou shal thanke gete.
Were I a lord of a lande that lawe aughte gouverne,
Suche a siker servant shuld have robes,
Though he seide ever sothe and servyd of noon other.
But now wolde I wite of a wise burne,
What kynnes creature that me couthe telle
Where to finde this freek, yf the king wolde
Have hym in housholde, as holsum were.
"By Crist," cothe a clerc that conceipte he had,
"There is no wiseman, I wene, wolde be yweddid
To suche a simple service, asay where the liketh, 15
For no maniere mede that thereto belongeth,
Ne ferthryng ne frendship while flatryng helpeth.
For alle the greet clercz that with the king lendith
Knoweth this as kindely as clerc doeth his bokes:
Hit is no siker service but for a somer saison,
But yf hit were for a fool that wold not be ferthred.
He might sey sothe sum while among thaym
And shuld be holde fooly though hit feul after."
But muche now I mervaille, and so mowen other,
That oure corouned king is kepte fro tho ludes -
Et nunc reges intelligite erudimini qui iudicate terram, etc. David 16
Forto saye hym the sothe sum while among
Hough he shuld grece the griefz er the woundz gunne festre
And so to leede his life in love of the royaulme.
For the poure peuple hath prece of thaym many
Forto telle thaym thaire toyes twyes a woke;
And any neighebourgh be nigh on eve or a morowe,
Hit wold not long be lefte, my life durste I wedde;
And that is grace and thaire good happe to gouverne thaym better
And in welthe to be ware, ere that woo falle.
But the king ne his cunseil cunne not mete with thaym,
But cleerly the cause I knowe not for sothe,
But dreede of the deeth dryveth thaym thens,
Or elles looste of thaire likerous life uppon erthe.
Thus is the court accumbrid and knoweth not thaire happes
Ne God neither goodman ne thaymself nothir,
Til fortune for foolie falle atte laste,
And al the world wondre on thaire wilde deedes.
But yf the king might knowe that the comune talketh
Hough grotz been ygadrid and no grief amendid
And hough the lawe is ylad whenne poure men pleyne,
I bilieve loyally oure liege lord wolde
Have pitie on his peuple for his owen profit
And amende that were amysse into more ease.
But the cause why the king knoweth not the mischief
Is for faute of a fabuler that I bifore tolde of,
Forto telle hym the texte, and touche not the glose,
How the worde walketh with oon and with other.
But whenne oure comely king came furst to londe,
Tho was eche burne bolde to bable what hym aylid
And to fable ferther of fautz and of wrongz,
And romansid of the missereule that in the royaulme groved, 17
And were behote high helpe, I herde hit myself
Ycried at the crosse, and was the kingis wille
Of custume and of coylaige the comunes shuld be easid.
But how the covenant is ykepte I can not discryve,
For with the kingis cunseil I come but silde.
But piez with a papegeay parlid of oones,
And were yplumed and ypullid and put into a caige.
Sith the briddes were ybete the beke is undre whinge,
But yf thay parle privyly to thaire owen peeris.
But the king ne his cunseil may hit not knowe
What is the comune clamour ne the crye nother,
For there is no man of the meeyné, more nother lasse, 18
That wol wisse thaym any worde but yf his witte faille,
Ne telle thaym the trouthe ne the texte nothir,
But shony forto shewe what the shire meneth,
And beguile thaym with glose, so me God helpe,
And speke of thaire owen spede and spie no ferther,
But ever kepe thaym cloos for caicching of wordes.
And yf a burne bolde hym to bable the sothe
And mynde hym of mischief that missereule asketh,
He may lose his life and laugh here no more,
Or yputte into prisone or ypyned to deeth
Or yblent or yshent or sum sorowe have,
That fro scorne other scathe scape shal he nevre.
Thus is trouthe doune ytroode and tenyd ful ofte,
Ybete and ybounde in bourghes and in shires,
And principaly of princes ypyned thenne of other,
Yhaulid and yhuntid and yhoote trusse,
That he shoneth to be seye forto shewe his harmes,
But ever hideth his heede fro the haylstones,
And is overwoxe with wrong and wickid wedes,
And tenyd with tares and al amisse temprid.
Yit wole he growe fro greve and his grayne bere,
And after sowe his seede whenne he seeth tyme.
For alle the gomes undre God, goyng uppon erthe,
Were never so slygh yit forto sle trouthe:
Though thay batre hym with battz and bete on hym ever,
Trouthe is so tough and loeth forto teere
And so pryvy with the prince that paradis made
That he hath graunt of his lyfe while God is in hevene;
For though men brenne the borough there the burne loiggeth, 19
Or elles hewe of the heede there he a hows had,
Or do hym al the disease that men devise cunne,
Yit wol he quyke agayne and quite alle his foes
And treede over the tares that over his toppe groued,
And al wickid wede into waste tourne.
And therefore my cunseil - though the king knowe hit
And alle the lordz of this londe, right lite is my charge -
Ys to be at oone with trouthe and tarre hym nomore,
Leste he tucke at your tabart ere two yere been endid,
But ye suffre his servant to be seye oones
Among you in a moneth (but yf ye more wil)
Forto saye you the sothe, though ye shame thenke.
For hit wol savere your mouthe swetely withynne short after
Whenne fortune you fleeth and falleth elleswhere;
And yf ye savere on his sawe and serve thereafter
And eke wirche by his worde, the whele wol tourne
And eke chaunge his cours of care and of sorowe,
And tourne into tidewel, terme of your lifes. 20
Here bigynneth the disputacion bitwyne Mum and the Sothsigger
Now is Henryis hous holsumly ymade
And a meritable meyny of the moste greet,
And next I have ynamed as nygh as I couthe,
And the condicions declarid of alle,
Rehershing no rascaille ne riders aboute.
But he hymsilf is souvrayn, and so mote he longe,
And the graciousist guyer goyng uppon erthe,
Witti and wise, worthy of deedes,
Ykidde and yknowe and cunnyng of werre, 21
Feers forto fighte, the felde ever kepith,
And trusteth on the Trinité that trouthe shal hym helpe;
A doughtful doer in deedes of armes
And a comely knight ycome of the grettist,
Ful of al vertue that to a king longeth,
Of age and of al thing as hym best semeth.
But hit be wel in his dayes we mowe dreede aftre
Lest feerelees falle withynne fewe yeres.
But God of His goodnes that gouvernith alle thingz
Hym graunte of His grace to guye wel the peuple
And to reule this royaume in pees and in reste,
And stable hit to stonde stille for oure dayes.
But I dreed me sore, so me God helpe,
Leste covetise of cunseil that knoweth not hymself
(Of sum and of certayn, I seye not of alle)
That of profitable pourpos putteth the king ofte,
There his witte and his wil wolde wirche to the beste -
"Nomore of this matiere," cothe Mum thenne,
"For I mervaille of thy momeling more thenne thou wenys.
Saides not thou thyself, and sothe as me thoughte,
That thees sothesiggers serven noon thankes?"
And thou knowes this by clergie, how cans thou thee excuse
That thou ne art nycier than a nunne nyne-folde tyme,
Forto wite that thy wil thy witte shal passe?"
I blussid for his bablyng and abode stille
And knytte there a knotte and construed no ferther;
But yit I thoughte ere he wente, and he wold abide,
To have a disputeson with hym and spie what he hatte.
"I am Mum thy maister," cothe he, "in alle maniere places
That sittith with souverayns and servyd with greete.
Thaire wille ne thaire wordes I withseye never,
But folowe thaym in thaire folie and fare muche the bettre,
Easily for oyle, sire, and elles were I nyce.
Thus leede I my life in luste of my herte,
And for my wisedame and witte wone I with the beste,
While sergeantz the sechith to saise by the lappe
For thy wilde wordes that maken wretthe ofte. 22
Thow were better folowe me foure score wynter
Thenne be a soethsigger, so me God helpe,
Oon myle and nomore waye, I Mum wol avowe.
And therefore I rede, yf thou reste wilnest,
Cumpaignye with no contra yn no kynnes wise, 23
But parle for thy profit and plaise more hereaftre.
For there nys lord of this londe ne lady, I wene,
Prince nether prelat ne peer of the royaulme,
Bachillier ne bourgoys ne no barne elles
That yf thay wite what thou arte, that wil thee desire
Or coveite to his cumpaignie while contra thee foloweth."
"Now to this altercacion," cothe I, "an answere behoveth,
For I fele by thy fabelyng thou art felle of werkes 24
And right worldly wise of wordes and deedes,
And ever kepis thee cloos for casting bihinde. 25
Thou wol not putte thee in prees but profit be the more 26
To thy propre persone; thou passes not the bondes
Forto gete any grucche for glaunsyng of boltes.
Thus me semeth that thou serves thyself and no man elles,
And has housholde and hire to holde up thy oyles,
And eke bouche of court for colte and for cnave.
And yit thou suffris thy souvrayn to shame hymself
There thou mightes amende hym many tyme and ofte.
ffacientis culpam habet qui quod potest corrigere negligit
emendare in secretis etc. 27
Now suche anothir servant, the same and noon other,
Mote dwelle with the deveil, til Do Bette hym helpe."
Thus after talkyng we twynned asundre,
Bothe Mum and I, and oure mote endid;
But muche mervailled I, whenne Mum was passid,
Of his opinion that he heulde ever,
And provyd hit by profitable poyntz ynowe
That better was a burne to abide stille
Thanne the soeth to seye that sitteth in his herte,
Forto warne the wy that he with dwellith,
Or mynne hym of mischief that misserewle askith.
And ever he concludid with colorable wordes
That whoso mellid muche more than hit nedeth
Shuld rather wynne weping watre thenne robes.
And cleerly Caton construeth the same,
And seyth soethly, I saw hit in youthe,
That of "bable" cometh blame and of "be stille" never -
Nam nulli tacuisse nocet, nocet esse locutum - 28
And a wise worldly worde, as me thenketh,
Of the whiche I was hevy and highly abawyd,
And for the double doute as dul as an asse,
And troublid for the travers, and amisse temprid,
That I wente in a wyre a grete while after.
For woo I ne wiste who had the better
Of Mum and of me, and musid faste,
Rehershyng the reasons of bothe two sides,
The pro and the contra as clergie askith.
But for witte that I wanne I wolde that he knewe
I was never the nyre, but as newe to begynne
As clerc is to construe that can not reede.
Thenne thoughte I on Sidrac and Salomonis termes,
And Seneca the sage I soughte for the nones,
That whilom were the wisest wies uppon erthe
Forto wise any wighte, whatso hym grieved.
I bablid on thoo bokes that thoo barnes made,
And waitid on thaire wordes aswel as I couthe,
But of the matiere of Mum might I nought finde,
Ne no maniere nyceté of the newe jette,
But al homely usage of the olde date,
How that good gouvernance gracieusely endith.
But glymsyng on the glose, a general reule
Of al maniere mischief I merkid and radde:
That whoso were in wire and wold be y-easid
Moste shewe the sore there the salve were.
Thenne was I wel ware what he wolde meene,
That I shulde cunne of clergie to knowe the sothe,
Forto deme the doute that me so dul made.
I was wilful of wil and wandrid aboute,
Til I came to Cambrigge couthe I not stynte,
To Oxenford and Orleance and many other places
There the congregacion of clercz in scole
Were stablid to stonde in strengthe of bilieve.
I moeved my matiere of Mum, as ye knowe,
And of the Soethsigger in fewe shorte wordes.
To alle the vij sciences I shewed as I couthe,
And how we dwellid in dome, for doute of the better.
Sire Grumbald the grammier tho glowed for anger
That he couthe not congruly knytte thaym togedre.
Music and Mum mighte not accorde,
For thay been contrary of kynde, whoso canne spie.
Phisic diffied al the bothe sides,
Bothe Mum and me and the Soethsiggre;
He was accumbrid of oure cumpaignye, by Crist that me bought,
And as fayn of oure voiding as foul of his make.
Astronomyis argumentz were alle of the skyes,
He-is touche no twynte of terrene thinges.
Rethoricis reasons me luste not reherce,
For he conceyved not the caas, I knewe by his wordes;
But a subtile shophister with many sharpe wordes
Sette the Soethsigger as shorte as he couthe. 29
But he wolde melle with Mum ner more ner lasse,
So chiding and chatering as choghe was ever.
Jeometrie the joynour jablid faste,
And caste many cumpas, as the crafte askith, 30
And laide level and lyne along by the squyre.
But I was not the wiser by a Walsh note
Of the matiere of Mum that marrid me ofte,
And stoode al astonyed and starid for angre
That clergie couthe not my cares amende,
And was in pourpoos to passe fourth right in pure wreth.
But a semely sage that satte al abouve,
Ychose to the chaire forto chaste fooles, 31
Whom alle the seven sciences servyd at wille,
Bothe in werke and in worde weren at his heste,
And more bunne at his bede than boy til his maister, 32
He satte as a souvrayn on a high siege.
A doctour of doutz, by dere God he semyd,
For he had loked al that lay to the .vij. artz;
He was as ful of philosophie and vertues bothe
As man uppon molde mighte perceyve.
This comely clerc me called agaynes,
And cunseillid me so cleerly that I caughte ease,
And seide, "Soon, seest thou this semblé of clercz,
How thay bisien thaym on thaire bokes and beten thaire wittz,
And how thay loken on the levis the letter to knowe?
For whenne thay knowen the scripture thay construen no ferther
Forto soutille ne to siche no side-wayes. 33
But as long as I have lerned and lokid in bokes,
And alle the seven sciences ysoughte to th'ende,
Yit knewe I never suche a caas, ne no clerc here,
As thou has ymoeved among us alle.
Hit is sum noyous nyceté of the newe jette, 34
For the texte truly telleth us nomore
But how that goode gouvernance graciousely endith.
But and thou woldes be wise and wirche as I telle,
I wolde wisse thee to wite where that thou shuldest
Have knowlaiche of thy caas cleere to thyn intent,
And thy cumberouse question quycly be assoiled.
Now harke and holde and hye to th'ende.
Sum of this semblé that thou sees here,
Whenne thay have loked the lettre and the lyfez over
Of alle the seven sciences, or sum as thaym liketh,
Thay walken fourth in the worlde and wonen with lordes,
And with a covetous croke Saynt Nicholas thay throwen,
And travaillen nomore on the texte, but tournen to the glose,
And putten thaym to practike and plaisance of wordes.
But thay cunne deme thy doute, by dere God in hevene,
I can not knowe of thy caas who couthe elles."
Thenne ferkid I to freres, alle the foure ordres,
There the fundament of feith and felnesse of workes
Hath ydwellid many day, no doute, as thay telle.
I frayned thaym faire to fele of thaire wittes,
And moevyd my matiere of Mum, as ye knowe,
And of the Soethsigger in fewe shorte wordes.
To every couple I construed my caas for the nones,
Til the cloistre and the quyre were so accorded
To geve Mum the maistrie withoute mo wordes,
And shewid me exemples, the sothest uppon erthe,
N'ad Mum be a more frende to making of thaire houses
Thenne the Sothesigger, so God shuld thaym helpe,
Hit had be unhelid half a yere after.
Now ne were thre skiles and scantly the ferthe,
I wolde love as litel thaire life and thaire deedes
As man uppon molde, til Amendes me prayed.
The furst is a faire poynt forto wynne hevene,
Whenne thay stirid a statute in strengthe of bilieve
That no preste shuld preche save seely poure freres. 35
But this deede dide thay not, I do you to wite,
For no maniere mede that mighte thaym befalle.
Ne forto gete the more good, God wote the sothe,
But for good herte that thay have to hele manis soules.
The secund is a pryvy poynt, I pray hit be helid:
Thay cunne not reede redelles aright, as me thenketh;
For furst folowid freres Lollardz manieres,
And sith hath be shewed the same on thaymself,
That thaire lesingz have lad thaym to lolle by the necke;
At Tibourne for traison ytwyght up thay were.
Patere legem quam ipse tuleris - 36
For as hit is yseide by eldryn dawes -
"That the churle gafe a dome whiche came by hym aftre." 37
The thrid is no lesing ne no long tale:
Thees good grey freres that mouche love geten
For keping of thaire conscience clenner than other,
Thay goon al bare abouve the foote and bynethe double
With smale semyd sockes and of softe wolle,
For the love of oure Lord harde life induren.
Thay mellen with no monaye more nother lasse,
But stiren hit with a sticke and staren on hit ofte,
And doon thaire bisynes therewith by obedience of th'ordre;
But in the herte ne in the hande ne may hit not come,
For thenne thay shuld bee shent of the subpriour.
The fourthe poynt is fructuous and fundid al in love:
Whenne freres goon to chapitre for charite-is sake,
They casten there the cuntrey and coostz aboute,
And parten the provynce in parcelle-mele.
And maken limitacions in lengthe and in breede,
Til eche hous have his owen as hym aughte.
Thenne hath the limitour leve to lerne where he cometh 38
To lye and to licke or elles lose his office.
But sum been so courtoys and kinde of thaire deedes
That with thaire charité thay chaungen a knyfe for a peyre,
But he wol pille ere he passe a parcelle of whete
And choise of the chese the chief and the beste.
He is so cunnyng in the crafte that whereso he cometh
He leveth the lasse for the more deele. 39
Thus with thaire charité and with thaire fayre chere
Thees good Godis men gadren al to thaym 40
And kepen hit to thaire owen croppe clene fro other.
For though a frere be fatt and have a ful coffre
Of gold and of good, thou getys but a lite
Forto bete thy bale, though thou begge ever.
But that is no mervail, by Marie of hevene,
For to begge of a begger what bote is hit
But who wolde balle his heede to breke harde stones?
Thus thaire conscience is yknowe and thaire crafte eeke,
That hath be kepte cunseil and cloos many dayes,
Til al the world wote what thay wolde meene;
And that is this treuly, tende whoso wil,
Thorough crafte of confession to knowe men intentz:
Of lordz and ladies that lustes desiren,
And with thaire wyly wittz wirchen on ever
And mulden up the matiere to make thaym fatte,
And gouvernen the grete and guilen the poure.
Now take my tale as my intent demeth,
And ye shal wel wite I wil thaym no mischief
By my worde ne by my wille as wissely forsothe 41
As God that is oure gouvernour me gye at my nede.
Honora dominum de tua substancia. Propheta. 42
For whenne thay come to your cote to crave that thaym nedeth, 43
Gyfe thaym, for Godis sake and with a good wille,
Mete or monaye as ye mowe indure,
And gefe thaym sauce therewith of the Sothesigger
Forto preche the peuple the peril of synne,
How symonie shendith al hooly churche,
And not forbere bisshop ne baron that lyveth
That thay teche treuly the texte as hit standeth,
And abide thereby with a bolde herte,
And spare for no spicerie ne no speche elles,
But telle oute the trouthe and tourne not aside
How Covetise hath caste the knyght on the grene,
And woneth at Westmynstre to wynne newe spores,
And cannot crepe thens while the crosse walketh.
He multiplieth monaye in the mote-halle
More for his mayntenance and manasshing of wordes
Thenne with draughte of his swerde or deedes of armes.
And telle the frere a toquen, that trouthe wote the sothe
Why men mervaillen more on thaym thanne on othir -
That suche a cumpaignye of confessours cunne not yelde
Oon martir among thaym in seven score wynter.
Thay prechen alle of penanche as though thay parfite were,
But thay prove hit in no poynt there thaire peril shuld arise.
Thaire clothing is of conscience, and of Caym thaire werkes,
That fadre was and fundre of alle the foure ordres,
Of deedes thay doon deceipuyng the peuple,
As Armacanes argumentz, that thaire actes knewe,
Provyn hit apertly in a poysie-wise;
For of Caym alle came, as this clerc tolde.
For who writeth wel this worde and withoute titil,
Shal finde of the figures but evene foure lettres:
C. for hit is crokid, thees Carmes thou mos take, 44
A. for thees Augustines that amoreux been ever,
I. for thees Iacobynes that been of Iudas kynne,
M. for thees Menours that monsyd been thaire werkes. 45
I seye of thaym that suche been and cesse agaynes other,
But wel I wote that wilful and worldly thay been sum,
And eeke spracke and spitous, and spices wel thay loven,
For Symonis sermons thay setten al to taske,
And feele other fautz fourtene hunthrid
Thay lepen over lightly, and lyen woundre thicke. 46
I cannot deme deuely of what degré thay bee;
Thay been not weddid, wel I wote, though thay wifes have;
But knightz yit of conscience I couthe of thaym make,
For thay have joygned in justes agayns Jhesus werkes; 47
And forto prove thaym prestes thees poyntz been agayne thaym.
I cannot reede redily of what reule thay been,
For hooly churche ne hevene hath not thaym in mynde,
Save in oon place thaire office and ordre is declarid:
I sawe hit in a ympne and is a sentence trewe,
And elleswhere in hooly writte I herde thaym ynempnyd.
Auferte gentem perfidam. Credentium de finibus;
Deleantur de libro vivencium, et cum iustis non scribantur. 48
But of the matiere of Mum ne of the Sothesigger,
This is not to pourpoos the pare of oon pere,
And therfore my wil is to walke more at large
Forto fynde sum freeke that of feith were
Not double, but indifferent to deme the sothe,
Whether Mum is more better or Melle-sumtyme
Forto amende that were amysse into more ease.
And for the fikelle freres were fully witholde
And alied to Mum in many maniere wises,
And eeke ful partie, as provyd by thaire wordes,
I lyeved wel the lasse thaire lore and thaire deedes,
And forto eschewe chiding I chalanged thaym alle,
And lepte lightly fro thaym, leste I laught were;
For thaire curtesie is crokid there thay caste ille,
And that witen thay wel that han wrastlid with thaym.
Thenne passid I to priories and personages many,
To abbeys of Augustyn and many hooly places,
There prestz and prelatz were parfitely yclosid
To singe and to reede for alle Cristen soules.
But for I was a meen man I might not entre;
For though the place were ypighte for poure men sake
And eeke funded therefore, yit faillen thay ofte
That thay doon not eche day do beste of alle.
For the fundacions of the fundours ment
Was groundid for Godis men, though hit grete serve.
Mutauerunt caritatem in cupiditatem. Sapientia 49
Thay koveiten no comers but yf thay cunne helpe
Forto amende thaire mynstre and to maynteyne thaire rente, 50
Or in worke or in worde waite thaire profit,
Or elles entreth he not til thay have ysopid.
Thus thaire portier for my povreté putt me thens,
And grauntid me of his goodnesse to go where me luste
And to wandry where I wolde withoute the gates.
Thenne raughte I fro religion, redelees of wittes,
And caried to closes and cathedralle churches
There that pluralité was prisely ystablid. 51
I queyntid me with the quyre for my questions sake,
And moevid of Mum more thenne thaym liked.
I was as wise whenne I wente as whenne I came to thaym,
Thay wolde not intremitte of ner nother side,
But ever kepte thaym cloos to cracche and to mangier, 52
And fedde so the foule flesh that the velle ne might
Unethe kepe the caroigne but yf hit cleve shuld; 53
And n'ad the gutte groned there thay gurde were, 54
Thay had bee sike of swete mete, so me God helpe,
For piking of provendre passing th'assise; 55
And n'adde thay partid with the poure as prestz doon thaire offryng,
That putten alle thaire masse penyes in thaire purses,
Thay had be blamyd of Belial for thaire bolde riding
Yn gurdellz of good gold or gilte atte leste.
Nolite possidere aurum neque argentum in zonis vestris. 56
Thenne woxe I wondre wery of wandring aboute
Thorough the wilde weyes that I wente had,
Ful woo for I ne wiste what was my beste
Reed - forto reste or rome more at large,
Til I wiste wittrely who shulde have
The maistrie, Mum or the Sothesigger.
And every man that I mette mad for my wordes
Wende that I were, wisten thay non other. 57
And as I stoode staring, stonyd of this matiere,
Mum with his myter manachid me ever,
And cunseilled me to cusky and care for myself,
And leste I soughte sorowe, cesse by tyme. 58
I doutid of his deedes, for his delectacion
Was more in his mynde thenne the masse-bokes,
And boode til a baron, blessid be he ever -
His name is ynempnyd among the seven ordres -
Sente a saufconduyt so that I wolde
Maynteyne no matiere to amende myself,
Ne caicche no colour that came of my wittes,
But showe for a souvrayn to shewe hit forth after. 59
This boldid me to bisynes to bringe hit to ende
Thorough grace of this good lord that gouverneth al thing.
Thenne sought I forth sevenyght and slepte ful silde,
And cessid on a Saterday til sunne roose amorowe,
And burnys and belles ballid togedre,
Momeling on thaire matyns and to the masse after.
I satte in a siege my service to hire,
Til the prest in a pulpite began forto preche
The peuple to pees and the peril of synne,
And also t'offre as ofte as thaym likid.
He taughte thaym by tyme thaire tithing to bringe
Of al manier grene that groweth uppon erthe
Of fructe and of floxe in felde and in homes,
Of polaille and of peris, of apples and of plummes,
Of grapes and of garlik, of gees and of pigges,
Of chibollz and of chiries and of thaire chese eeke,
Herbaige and oygnons and alle suche thinges
That growen in thaire gardynes, lete God his parte have,
Of hony in your hyves and of your honycombes,
Of malte and of monaye and of al that multiplieth,
Of wolle and of wexe and what-so yow increceth
Or newith yow, the nine partie nymeth to your self,
And trewly the tithing taketh hooly churche.
And ever I waitid whenne he wolde sum worde moeve
How hooly churche goodes shuld be yspendid.
And declare the deedes what thay do shulde
To have suche a harveste and helpe not to erie.
But sorowe on the sillable he shewed of that matiere, 60
For Mum was a meen and made hym to leve.
And as wery as I was, yit was I wrothe eeke
With Mum, for he made the moppe so lewed
To leve men to lerne the lawe sith he knewe hit.
Thenne ferkid I forth as faste as I mighte
Sevene yere Sunnedayes and solempne festes, 61
Yf prest or prelat or prechour wolde
Sey sothe of hymself and serve thereafter
And teche how the tithinge shuld trewly be departid.
But as wide as I wente, was noon of thaym alle
Wolde moeve of that matiere more nother lasse.
And why that thay wolde not wol ye gladly wite,
Thay have a memoire of Mum among alle other,
Ys more in thaire mynde thenne martires of hevene
That token the deeth for trouthe of tirantz handes.
But here a querele or a question quyk mighte thou make:
Martires had more might and more mynde eeke,
And couthe more on clergie thenne cunne now a thousand.
But thereto I answere as I am lerid:
Thou, lewed laudate, litel witte has.
Hit was for no cunnyng ne clergie nother
That thay chosid the deeth, but for derve love
And kindenes to oure Creatour that creed us alle,
And for pure trouthe that thay taught ever.
Propter veritatem dimittam omnes familiaritatem etc. 62
This made thaym martires more thanne ought elles,
For clercz were not knowe by thaire clothing that tyme,
Ne by royal raye ne riding aboute,
Ne by service of souverayns, so me God helpe,
Ne by revel ne riot ne by rente nothir,
Ne by thaire double dees, ne thaire deupe hoodes,
Ne by drynkyng of dollid wyne ne by datz at eve,
Ne by worldly workes of writtes ne seelyng,
Ne by no maniere niceté that thay now usen,
But by the deedes that thay dide, I do you to wite.
For I am but lewed and lettrid ful lite,
And yit me semeth the sentence that I shewe couthe
And teche how the tithing shuld trewly be departid,
For in thre lynes hit lith and not oon lettre more.
Now hendely hireth how I begynne:
That ye clepe Godis parte, lete Godis men have hit, 63
Reservyng for yourself sustenance for your foode,
And the overplus over that for ornementz of the churche.
Though this be shortly yseide, yit so me God helpe,
Whoso had cunnyng and a clerc were,
Might make a long sermon of thees fewe wordes;
And though he toke to his theme "the tresour is among thaym
And the revyllé of the royaulme and the richesse bothe,"
He shuld not wende of the waye two whete cornes.
For thay have tollid so the tithing thay han the two dooles,
And been so usid to ease erly and late
That thay cunne no crafte save kepe thaym warme.
Thay bisien more for benefices thenne Bibles to reede,
And been as worldly wise and wynners eeke
As man uppon molde, and as muche loven
Mum and the monaye, by Marie of hevene,
For mayntenance and mede been thaire two mates.
"Yit wil thou melle more," cothe Mum, "thenne hit nedeth.
Be stille lest thou stumble, for thou stondes ful slidre,
And thou moeve any more suche maniere wordes.
Thay been not holsum for thy heed ne for thy herte nother,
For thou mos holde with thee mo yf thou thy helthe willes; 64
And so I have ytolde thee twyes and oones.
Thou art mad of thy mynde, and amysse levis
That Mum hath a maister there men been of goode;
For Mum maketh mo men at a moneth ende
Thanne the Sothesigger in sevene score winter;
For he is privy with the pruttist and there the price caicchet, 65
As is ydrawe to the deys with deyntées yservyd
Whenne the Sothsigger dar not be seye.
For and a matier be moeved at mete or at eve
Or in pryvy places there peeris assemblen,
Mum musith thereon and maketh many cautelles
With a locke on his lippe and loketh aboute.
He spendith no speche but spices hit make,
Til he wite whitherward that wil doo drawe. 66
But thenne he knittith a knotte and cometh al at ones
And getith hym a greet thanke to go among the beste.
Fle fooly therefore, and frendes thee make,
And arete, I thee rede, and rome no ferther
For thou walkis of the weye forto wynne silver.
And carpe no more of clergie but yf thou cunne leepe,
For and thou come on thaire clouche, thou crepis not thens 67
Til thou wite right wel with whom that thou mellys."
"Iwis I wil not," cothe I, "til I wite more.
For prestz been not perillous but pacient of thaire werkes,
And eeke the plantz of pees and ful of pitie ever,
And chief of al charité ychose afore other.
Forto fighte ne to flite hit falleth not to thaire ordre,
Ne to prece to no place there peril shuld be ynne.
That proveth wel by parlement, for prelatz shuld be voidid
Whenne any dome of deeth shal be do there,
Al for cause thaire conscience to kepe unywemmyd.
A man may saye thaym the sothe sonest of alle,
Withoute grucche other groyn, but gete many thankes.
Thay moste bowe for the beste, God forbede hit elles,
To shewe us exemple of suffrance ever."
Sic luceat lux vestra coram hominibus vt videant opera vestra bona etc. 68
"Yee, yit be ware of wiles and waite wel aboute,
For me semeth that thy sight is sumdele a-dasid
And al myndelees," cothe Mum, "and al amysse demys;
For though thou shuldes thysilf be a sothesigger,
Thou has no cleere conceypt to knowe alle thaire werkes.
And that I pryved by a poynt thou perceipues never,
Al a-twart thy intent and thy tale eeke,
For Pilat in the Passion among al the peuple
Wilned aftre watre to waisshe with his handes. 69
To shewe hym, by that signe, of the bloode-sheding
Of Crist that us creed and on the Crosse deyed,
His conscience was clensid as clene as his handes.
Yit was he ground of the grame and moste guilty eeke,
For every man that mynde hath may wel wite
That prelatz aughten have pité when princz bee moeved,
And reede thaym so that rancune roote not in hert,
And ere the grame growe ferre, the ground so to wede
And amende that were mysse ere any moore caicche
Of manslaughter or mourdre, as hath many dayes.
For who hath knowlache of a cloude by cours of abouve,
And wil stande stille til the storme falle,
And wende not of the waye, the wite is his owen.
Though hit heelde on his heede, who is to blame?
For who hath sight of a showre that sharpely ariseth,
And wil not caste hym to kepe with covryng abouve
Til hit droppe al adoune and dung-wete hym make,
And eeke falle on his frende, in feith as me thenketh,
He is auctor of al the harme and th'ache
And so pryvy to the peynes that peeres induren.
And also in cuntrey hit is a comune speche
And is ywrite in Latyne, lerne hit whoso wil:
The reason is "qui tacet consentire videtur."
And whoso hath insight of silde-couthe thingz,
Of synne or of shame or of shonde outher,
And luste not to lette hit, but leteth hit forth passe
As clercz doon construe that knowen alle bokes,
He shal be demyd doer of the same deede.
And eeke in londis lawe I lernyd by anothir:
Yf a freeke for felonye is frayned atte barre
For traison or for trespas, and he a tunge have
And wil not answere to the deede he is of indited,
But stont stille as a stoone and no worde stire,
But he be deef or dum, to deeth shal he wende,
As atteynt for the trespas, and is a trewe lawe.
This cursid custume hath cumbrid us alle;
The grucching of grete that shuld us gouverne
Han yshourid sharpely thorough suffrance of clercz,
That lightly with labour ylettid thay mighte,
The conseil of clergie yf thay had caste for hit.
For there the heede aketh alle the lymes after
Pynen, whenne the principal is put to unease -
Dum caput infirmum cetera membra dolent - 70
(Of sum and certayn, I saye not of alle,
But of the same seurely that suche maniere usen)."
"Now treuly," cothe I, "thy talking me pleasith,
For thou has saide as sothe, so me God helpe,
As ever sage saide sith Crist was in erthe;
For thou has rubbid on the rote of the rede galle
And eeke yserchid the sore and sought alle the woundz.
And yf thou woldes do wel, wende to thaym alle
And telle the same tale that thou has tolde here;
Thou might be man made and mensshid for ever."
"Nay, there I leve thee, Lucas, go loke for an othir,
For I wil wende no waie but wit go bifore, 71
Ne telle no tales for teryng of hodes,
So taughte me the trusty techer on erthe,
My maister and maker, Mum, that I serve.
Go walke where thy wil is and waite wel aboute,
For thou has sought al aside sith thou begunne
With clercz of Cambrigge and cathedralle churches.
Fare forth therefore to finde that thou sechis,
And come not with clergie leste thou a-croke walke,
But tourne now to tounes and temporal lordz,
There prece is of peuple, and pray thaym to telle
Yf any sothesigger serve thaym long."
Thenne ferkid I to fre men and frankeleyns mony,
To bondemen and bourgois and many other barnes,
To knightz and to comunes and craftzmen eeke,
To citezeyns and souvrayns and to many grete sires,
To bachilliers, to banerettz, to barons and erles,
To princes and peris and alle maniere estatz;
But in every court there I came or cumpaigny outhir
I fonde mo mummers atte moneth-ende
Than of sothesiggerz by sevene score thousand.
For alle the knyghtz of the court that with the king dwellen,
For the more partie - yee, mo than an hunthrid -
Heulden Mum for a maister, and more do mighte
With king and his cunseil and al the court aftre.
And every toune that I trade twelfe moneth togedre,
Mum was a maister and with the maire ever,
And al of oon lyvraye and looke so togedre
That a poure manis prayer departe thaym ne mighte.
There was no maner man the maire had levir
Bydde of the burnes in benche there he satte
As Mum to the mete among al the rewe;
For he couthe lye and laugh and leepe over the balkes
There any grucche or groyne or grame shuld arise. 72
He was ful couchant and coy and curtoys of speche,
And parlid for the partie and the playnte lefte. 73
The maire preisid hym apert for his plaisant wordes;
He was a blessid barne and beste couthe suffre
Whenne souvrayns were assemblid to saye what thaym liked.
He toke no manere travers tenne yere togedre,
Among the comun conseil lest he caste were,
But ever shewid his seel to sitte among other.
But whoso mummeth a mayre to maynteyne his rente,
Maniere were that the mayre shuld mumme hym agaynes
And yelde hym with a yere-is gifte ere the yere passed.
Mum with the mayre to the mete wente,
And ever I after, al unaspied,
For to knowe of my caas couthe I not stynte.
There shuldrid sergeantz to serve atte mete
For a male ful of missedeedz that Mum had in keping.
I stoode stille as a stoone and starid aboute
And lokid lightly along by the bordes,
Yf any sothesigger were sette in the halle.
But sorowe on the shyne I sawe of hym there,
But yf he were a soleyn and servyd aloon,
For alle was huyst in the halle sauf "holde up the oyles."
And forto saye sothe and shone long tale,
The sunne and the sergeantz my sight so dasid
That I might not eche messe merke as me luste.
I askid of a eldryn man as I beste couthe
Yf any sothesigger sate in the halle,
And he answerid sharply that "the Sothesigger
Dyneth this day with Dreede in a chambre,
And hath ydrunke dum-seede, and dar not be seye
Sith Mum and the mayer were made suche frendes."
Thenne waxe I woundre wrothe, as I wel might,
And drowe me to the doreward and dwelled no lenger, 74
But romed forth reedelees, remembring ofte
That Mum was suche a maister among men of good.
And as I lokid the loigges along by the streetz,
I sawe a sothesigger, in sothe as me thought,
Sitte in a shoppe and salwyn his woundes.
Beati qui persecucionem paciuntur propter iusticiam. Euaungelium. 75
Thenne was I ful-come and knewe wel the sothe
That Mum uppon molde myrier life had
Thenne the Sothesigger, asay whoso wol;
But the better barne to abide stille
And to lyve with a lord to his life-is ende
Ys the Sothesigger, asay whoso wol.
Yit was I not the wiser for waye that I wente;
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