Chapter 24

The thridde ymage next to this Was, whan the king of Grece Apis 1560 Was ded, thei maden a figure In resemblance of his stature. Of this king Apis seith the bok That Serapis his name tok, In whom thurgh long continuance Of misbelieve a gret creance Thei hadden, and the reverence Of Sacrifice and of encence To him thei made: and as thei telle, Among the wondres that befelle, 1570 Whan Alisandre fro Candace Cam ridende, in a wilde place Undur an hull a Cave he fond; And Candalus, which in that lond Was bore, and was Candaces Sone, Him tolde hou that of commun wone The goddes were in thilke cave. And he, that wolde assaie and have A knowlechinge if it be soth, Liht of his hors and in he goth, 1580 And fond therinne that he soghte: For thurgh the fendes sleihte him thoghte, Amonges othre goddes mo That Serapis spak to him tho, Whom he sih there in gret arrai. And thus the fend fro dai to dai The worschipe of ydolatrie Drowh forth upon the fantasie Of hem that weren thanne blinde And couthen noght the trouthe finde. 1590

Thus hast thou herd in what degre Of Grece, Egipte and of Caldee The misbelieves whilom stode; And hou so that thei be noght goode Ne trewe, yit thei sprungen oute, Wherof the wyde world aboute His part of misbelieve tok. Til so befell, as seith the bok, That god a poeple for himselve Hath chose of the lignages tuelve, 1600 Wherof the sothe redely, As it is write in Genesi, I thenke telle in such a wise That it schal be to thin apprise.

After the flod, fro which Noë Was sauf, the world in his degre Was mad, as who seith, newe ayein, Of flour, of fruit, of gras, of grein, Of beste, of bridd and of mankinde, Which evere hath be to god unkinde: 1610 For noght withstondende al the fare, Of that this world was mad so bare And afterward it was restored, Among the men was nothing mored Towardes god of good lyvynge, Bot al was torned to likinge After the fleissh, so that foryete Was he which yaf hem lif and mete, Of hevene and Erthe creatour. And thus cam forth the grete errour, 1620 That thei the hihe god ne knewe, Bot maden othre goddes newe, As thou hast herd me seid tofore: Ther was noman that time bore, That he ne hadde after his chois A god, to whom he yaf his vois. Wherof the misbelieve cam Into the time of Habraham: Bot he fond out the rihte weie, Hou only that men scholde obeie 1630 The hihe god, which weldeth al, And evere hath don and evere schal, In hevene, in Erthe and ek in helle; Ther is no tunge his miht mai telle. This Patriarch to his lignage Forbad, that thei to non ymage Encline scholde in none wise, Bot here offrende and sacrifise With al the hole hertes love Unto the mihti god above 1640 Thei scholden yive and to no mo: And thus in thilke time tho Began the Secte upon this Erthe, Which of believes was the ferthe. Of rihtwisnesse it was conceived, So moste it nedes be received Of him that alle riht is inne, The hihe god, which wolde winne A poeple unto his oghne feith. On Habraham the ground he leith, 1650 And made him forto multeplie Into so gret a progenie, That thei Egipte al overspradde. Bot Pharao with wrong hem ladde In servitute ayein the pes, Til god let sende Moises To make the deliverance; And for his poeple gret vengance He tok, which is to hiere a wonder. The king was slain, the lond put under, 1660 God bad the rede See divide, Which stod upriht on either side And yaf unto his poeple a weie, That thei on fote it passe dreie And gon so forth into desert: Wher forto kepe hem in covert, The daies, whan the Sonne brente, A large cloude hem overwente, And forto wissen hem be nyhte, A firy Piler hem alyhte. 1670 And whan that thei for hunger pleigne, The myhti god began to reyne Manna fro hevene doun to grounde, Wherof that ech of hem hath founde His fode, such riht as him liste; And for thei scholde upon him triste, Riht as who sette a tonne abroche, He percede the harde roche, And sprong out water al at wille, That man and beste hath drunke his fille: 1680 And afterward he yaf the lawe To Moises, that hem withdrawe Thei scholden noght fro that he bad. And in this wise thei be lad, Til thei toke in possession The londes of promission, Wher that Caleph and Josuë The Marches upon such degre Departen, after the lignage That ech of hem as Heritage 1690 His porpartie hath underfonge. And thus stod this believe longe, Which of prophetes was governed; And thei hadde ek the poeple lerned Of gret honour that scholde hem falle; Bot ate moste nede of alle Thei faileden, whan Crist was bore. Bot hou that thei here feith have bore, It nedeth noght to tellen al, The matiere is so general: 1700 Whan Lucifer was best in hevene And oghte moste have stonde in evene, Towardes god he tok debat; And for that he was obstinat, And wolde noght to trouthe encline, He fell for evere into ruine: And Adam ek in Paradis, Whan he stod most in al his pris After thastat of Innocence, Ayein the god brak his defence 1710 And fell out of his place aweie: And riht be such a maner weie The Jwes in here beste plit, Whan that thei scholden most parfit Have stonde upon the prophecie, Tho fellen thei to most folie, And him which was fro hevene come, And of a Maide his fleissh hath nome, And was among hem bore and fedd, As men that wolden noght be spedd 1720 Of goddes Sone, with o vois Thei hinge and slowhe upon the crois. Wherof the parfit of here lawe Fro thanne forth hem was withdrawe, So that thei stonde of no merit, Bot in truage as folk soubgit Withoute proprete of place Thei liven out of goddes grace, Dispers in alle londes oute.

And thus the feith is come aboute, 1730 That whilom in the Jewes stod, Which is noght parfihtliche good. To speke as it is nou befalle, Ther is a feith aboven alle, In which the trouthe is comprehended, Wherof that we ben alle amended.

The hihe almyhti majeste, Of rihtwisnesse and of pite, The Sinne which that Adam wroghte, Whan he sih time, ayein he boghte, 1740 And sende his Sone fro the hevene To sette mannes Soule in evene, Which thanne was so sore falle Upon the point which was befalle, That he ne mihte himself arise.

Gregoire seith in his aprise, It helpeth noght a man be bore, If goddes Sone were unbore; For thanne thurgh the ferste Sinne, Which Adam whilom broghte ous inne, 1750 Ther scholden alle men be lost; Bot Crist restoreth thilke lost, And boghte it with his fleissh and blod. And if we thenken hou it stod Of thilke rancoun which he payde, As seint Gregoire it wrot and sayde, Al was behovely to the man: For that wherof his wo began Was after cause of al his welthe, Whan he which is the welle of helthe, 1760 The hihe creatour of lif, Upon the nede of such a strif So wolde for his creature Take on himself the forsfaiture And soffre for the mannes sake. Thus mai no reson wel forsake That thilke Senne original Ne was the cause in special Of mannes worschipe ate laste, Which schal withouten ende laste. 1770 For be that cause the godhede Assembled was to the manhede In the virgine, where he nom Oure fleissh and verai man becom Of bodely fraternite; Wherof the man in his degre Stant more worth, as I have told, Than he stod erst be manyfold, Thurgh baptesme of the newe lawe, Of which Crist lord is and felawe. 1780

And thus the hihe goddes myht, Which was in the virgine alyht, The mannes Soule hath reconsiled, Which hadde longe ben exiled. So stant the feith upon believe, Withoute which mai non achieve To gete him Paradis ayein: Bot this believe is so certein, So full of grace and of vertu, That what man clepeth to Jhesu 1790 In clene lif forthwith good dede, He mai noght faile of hevene mede, Which taken hath the rihte feith; For elles, as the gospel seith, Salvacion ther mai be non. And forto preche therupon Crist bad to hise Apostles alle, The whos pouer as nou is falle On ous that ben of holi cherche, If we the goode dedes werche; 1800 For feith only sufficeth noght, Bot if good dede also be wroght. Now were it good that thou forthi, Which thurgh baptesme proprely Art unto Cristes feith professed, Be war that thou be noght oppressed With Anticristes lollardie. For as the Jwes prophecie Was set of god for avantage, Riht so this newe tapinage 1810 Of lollardie goth aboute To sette Cristes feith in doute. The seintz that weren ous tofore, Be whom the feith was ferst upbore, That holi cherche stod relieved, Thei oghten betre be believed Than these, whiche that men knowe Noght holy, thogh thei feigne and blowe Here lollardie in mennes Ere. Bot if thou wolt live out of fere, 1820 Such newe lore, I rede, eschuie, And hold forth riht the weie and suie, As thine Ancestres dede er this: So schalt thou noght believe amis.

Crist wroghte ferst and after tawhte, So that the dede his word arawhte; He yaf ensample in his persone, And we the wordes have al one, Lich to the Tree with leves grene, Upon the which no fruit is sene. 1830

The Priest Thoas, which of Minerve The temple hadde forto serve, And the Palladion of Troie Kepte under keie, for monoie, Of Anthenor which he hath nome, Hath soffred Anthenor to come And the Palladion to stele, Wherof the worschipe and the wele Of the Troiens was overthrowe. Bot Thoas at the same throwe, 1840 Whan Anthenor this Juel tok, Wynkende caste awei his lok For a deceipte and for a wyle: As he that scholde himself beguile, He hidde his yhen fro the sihte, And wende wel that he so mihte Excuse his false conscience. I wot noght if thilke evidence Nou at this time in here estatz Excuse mihte the Prelatz, 1850 Knowende hou that the feith discresceth And alle moral vertu cesseth, Wherof that thei the keies bere, Bot yit hem liketh noght to stere Here gostliche yhe forto se The world in his adversite; Thei wol no labour undertake To kepe that hem is betake. Crist deide himselve for the feith, Bot nou our feerfull prelat seith, 1860 “The lif is suete,” and that he kepeth, So that the feith unholpe slepeth, And thei unto here ese entenden And in here lust her lif despenden, And every man do what him list. Thus stant this world fulfild of Mist, That noman seth the rihte weie: The wardes of the cherche keie Thurgh mishandlinge ben myswreynt, The worldes wawe hath welnyh dreynt 1870 The Schip which Peter hath to stiere, The forme is kept, bot the matiere Transformed is in other wise. Bot if thei weren gostli wise, And that the Prelatz weren goode, As thei be olde daies stode, It were thanne litel nede Among the men to taken hiede Of that thei hieren Pseudo telle, Which nou is come forto duelle, 1880 To sowe cokkel with the corn, So that the tilthe is nyh forlorn, Which Crist sew ferst his oghne hond. Nou stant the cockel in the lond, Wher stod whilom the goode grein, For the Prelatz nou, as men sein, Forslowthen that thei scholden tile. And that I trowe be the skile, Whan ther is lacke in hem above, The poeple is stranged to the love 1890 Of trouthe, in cause of ignorance; For wher ther is no pourveance Of liht, men erren in the derke. Bot if the Prelatz wolden werke Upon the feith which thei ous teche, Men scholden noght here weie seche Withoute liht, as now is used: Men se the charge aldai refused, Which holi cherche hath undertake.

Bot who that wolde ensample take, 1900 Gregoire upon his Omelie Ayein the Slouthe of Prelacie Compleigneth him, and thus he seith: “Whan Peter, fader of the feith, At domesdai schal with him bringe Judeam, which thurgh his prechinge He wan, and Andrew with Achaie Schal come his dette forto paie, And Thomas ek with his beyete Of Ynde, and Poul the routes grete 1910 Of sondri londes schal presente, And we fulfild of lond and rente, Which of this world we holden hiere, With voide handes schul appiere, Touchende oure cure spirital, Which is our charge in special, I not what thing it mai amonte Upon thilke ende of oure accompte, Wher Crist himself is Auditour, Which takth non hiede of vein honour.” 1920 Thoffice of the Chancellerie Or of the kinges Tresorie Ne for the writ ne for the taille To warant mai noght thanne availe; The world, which nou so wel we trowe, Schal make ous thanne bot a mowe: So passe we withoute mede, That we non otherwise spede, Bot as we rede that he spedde, The which his lordes besant hedde 1930 And therupon gat non encress. Bot at this time natheles, What other man his thonk deserve, The world so lusti is to serve, That we with him ben all acorded, And that is wist and wel recorded Thurghout this Erthe in alle londes Let knyhtes winne with here hondes, For oure tunge schal be stille And stonde upon the fleisshes wille. 1940 It were a travail forto preche The feith of Crist, as forto teche The folk Paiene, it wol noght be; Bot every Prelat holde his See With al such ese as he mai gete Of lusti drinke and lusti mete, Wherof the bodi fat and full Is unto gostli labour dull And slowh to handle thilke plowh. Bot elles we ben swifte ynowh 1950 Toward the worldes Avarice; And that is as a sacrifice, Which, after that thapostel seith, Is openly ayein the feith Unto thidoles yove and granted: Bot natheles it is nou haunted, And vertu changed into vice, So that largesce is Avarice, In whos chapitre now we trete.

Mi fader, this matiere is bete 1960 So fer, that evere whil I live I schal the betre hede yive Unto miself be many weie: Bot over this nou wolde I preie To wite what the branches are Of Avarice, and hou thei fare Als wel in love as otherwise.

Mi Sone, and I thee schal devise In such a manere as thei stonde, So that thou schalt hem understonde. 1970

Dame Avarice is noght soleine, Which is of gold the Capiteine; Bot of hir Court in sondri wise After the Scole of hire aprise Sche hath of Servantz manyon, Wherof that Covoitise is on; Which goth the large world aboute, To seche thavantages oute, Wher that he mai the profit winne To Avarice, and bringth it inne. 1980 That on hald and that other draweth, Ther is no day which hem bedaweth, No mor the Sonne than the Mone, Whan ther is eny thing to done, And namely with Covoitise; For he stant out of al assisse Of resonable mannes fare. Wher he pourposeth him to fare Upon his lucre and his beyete, The smale path, the large Strete, 1990 The furlong and the longe Mile, Al is bot on for thilke while: And for that he is such on holde, Dame Avarice him hath withholde, As he which is the principal Outward, for he is overal A pourveour and an aspie. For riht as of an hungri Pie The storve bestes ben awaited, Riht so is Covoitise afaited 2000 To loke where he mai pourchace, For be his wille he wolde embrace Al that this wyde world beclippeth; Bot evere he somwhat overhippeth, That he ne mai noght al fulfille The lustes of his gredi wille. Bot where it falleth in a lond, That Covoitise in myhti hond Is set, it is ful hard to fiede; For thanne he takth non other hiede, 2010 Bot that he mai pourchace and gete, His conscience hath al foryete, And not what thing it mai amonte That he schal afterward acompte. Bote as the Luce in his degre Of tho that lasse ben than he The fisshes griedeli devoureth, So that no water hem socoureth, Riht so no lawe mai rescowe Fro him that wol no riht allowe; 2020 For wher that such on is of myht, His will schal stonde in stede of riht. Thus be the men destruid fulofte, Til that the grete god alofte Ayein so gret a covoitise Redresce it in his oghne wise: And in ensample of alle tho I finde a tale write so, The which, for it is good to liere, Hierafterward thou schalt it hiere. 2030

Whan Rome stod in noble plit, Virgile, which was tho parfit, A Mirour made of his clergie And sette it in the tounes ije Of marbre on a piler withoute; That thei be thritty Mile aboute Be daie and ek also be nyhte In that Mirour beholde myhte Here enemys, if eny were, With al here ordinance there, 2040 Which thei ayein the Cite caste: So that, whil thilke Mirour laste, Ther was no lond which mihte achieve With werre Rome forto grieve; Wherof was gret envie tho. And fell that ilke time so, That Rome hadde werres stronge Ayein Cartage, and stoden longe The tuo Cites upon debat. Cartage sih the stronge astat 2050 Of Rome in thilke Mirour stonde, And thoghte al prively to fonde To overthrowe it be som wyle. And Hanybal was thilke while The Prince and ledere of Cartage, Which hadde set al his corage Upon knihthod in such a wise, That he be worthi and be wise And be non othre was conseiled, Wherof the world is yit merveiled 2060 Of the maistries that he wroghte Upon the marches whiche he soghte. And fell in thilke time also, The king of Puile, which was tho, Thoghte ayein Rome to rebelle, And thus was take the querele, Hou to destruie this Mirour.

Of Rome tho was Emperour Crassus, which was so coveitous, That he was evere desirous 2070 Of gold to gete the pilage; Wherof that Puile and ek Cartage With Philosophres wise and grete Begunne of this matiere trete, And ate laste in this degre Ther weren Philosophres thre, To do this thing whiche undertoke, And therupon thei with hem toke A gret tresor of gold in cophres, To Rome and thus these philisophres 2080 Togedre in compainie wente, Bot noman wiste what thei mente. Whan thei to Rome come were, So prively thei duelte there, As thei that thoghten to deceive: Was non that mihte of hem perceive, Til thei in sondri stedes have Here gold under the ground begrave In tuo tresors, that to beholde Thei scholden seme as thei were olde. 2090 And so forth thanne upon a day Al openly in good arai To themperour thei hem presente, And tolden it was here entente To duellen under his servise. And he hem axeth in what wise; And thei him tolde in such a plit, That ech of hem hadde a spirit, The which slepende a nyht appiereth And hem be sondri dremes lereth 2100 After the world that hath betid. Under the ground if oght be hid Of old tresor at eny throwe, They schull it in here swevenes knowe; And upon this condicioun, Thei sein, what gold under the toun Of Rome is hid, thei wole it finde, Ther scholde noght be left behinde, Be so that he the halvendel Hem grante, and he assenteth wel; 2110 And thus cam sleighte forto duelle With Covoitise, as I thee telle. This Emperour bad redily That thei be logged faste by Where he his oghne body lay; And whan it was amorwe day, That on of hem seith that he mette Wher he a goldhord scholde fette: Wherof this Emperour was glad, And therupon anon he bad 2120 His Mynours forto go and myne, And he himself of that covine Goth forth withal, and at his hond The tresor redi there he fond, Where as thei seide it scholde be; And who was thanne glad bot he?

Upon that other dai secounde Thei have an other goldhord founde, Which the seconde maister tok Upon his swevene and undertok. 2130 And thus the sothe experience To themperour yaf such credence, That al his trist and al his feith So sikerliche on hem he leith, Of that he fond him so relieved, That thei ben parfitli believed, As thogh thei were goddes thre. Nou herkne the soutilete.

The thridde maister scholde mete, Which, as thei seiden, was unmete 2140 Above hem alle, and couthe most; And he withoute noise or bost Al priveli, so as he wolde, Upon the morwe his swevene tolde To themperour riht in his Ere, And seide him that he wiste where A tresor was so plentivous Of gold and ek so precious Of jeueals and of riche stones, That unto alle hise hors at ones 2150 It were a charge sufficant. This lord upon this covenant Was glad, and axeth where it was. The maister seide, under the glas, And tolde him eke, as for the Myn He wolde ordeigne such engin, That thei the werk schull undersette With Tymber, that withoute lette Men mai the tresor saufli delve, So that the Mirour be himselve 2160 Withoute empeirement schal stonde: And this the maister upon honde Hath undertake in alle weie. This lord, which hadde his wit aweie And was with Covoitise blent, Anon therto yaf his assent; And thus they myne forth withal, The timber set up overal, Wherof the Piler stod upriht; Til it befell upon a nyht 2170 These clerkes, whan thei were war Hou that the timber only bar The Piler, wher the Mirour stod,— Here sleihte noman understod,— Thei go be nyhte unto the Myne With pich, with soulphre and with rosine, And whan the Cite was a slepe, A wylde fyr into the depe They caste among the timberwerk, And so forth, whil the nyht was derk, 2180 Desguised in a povere arai Thei passeden the toun er dai. And whan thei come upon an hell, Thei sihen how the Mirour fell, Wherof thei maden joie ynowh, And ech of hem with other lowh, And seiden, “Lo, what coveitise Mai do with hem that be noght wise!” And that was proved afterward, For every lond, to Romeward 2190 Which hadde be soubgit tofore, Whan this Mirour was so forlore And thei the wonder herde seie, Anon begunne desobeie With werres upon every side; And thus hath Rome lost his pride And was defouled overal. For this I finde of Hanybal, That he of Romeins in a dai, Whan he hem fond out of arai, 2200 So gret a multitude slowh, That of goldringes, whiche he drowh Of gentil handes that ben dede, Buisshelles fulle thre, I rede, He felde, and made a bregge also, That he mihte over Tibre go Upon the corps that dede were Of the Romeins, whiche he slowh there.

Bot now to speke of the juise, The which after the covoitise 2210 Was take upon this Emperour, For he destruide the Mirour; It is a wonder forto hiere. The Romeins maden a chaiere And sette here Emperour therinne, And seiden, for he wolde winne Of gold the superfluite, Of gold he scholde such plente Receive, til he seide Ho: And with gold, which thei hadden tho 2220 Buillende hot withinne a panne, Into his Mouth thei poure thanne. And thus the thurst of gold was queynt, With gold which hadde ben atteignt.

Wherof, mi Sone, thou miht hiere, Whan Covoitise hath lost the stiere Of resonable governance, Ther falleth ofte gret vengance. For ther mai be no worse thing Than Covoitise aboute a king: 2230 If it in his persone be, It doth the more adversite; And if it in his conseil stonde, It bringth alday meschief to honde Of commun harm; and if it growe Withinne his court, it wol be knowe, For thanne schal the king be piled. The man which hath hise londes tiled, Awaiteth noght more redily The Hervest, than thei gredily 2240 Ne maken thanne warde and wacche, Wher thei the profit mihten cacche: And yit fulofte it falleth so, As men mai sen among hem tho, That he which most coveiteth faste Hath lest avantage ate laste. For whan fortune is therayein, Thogh he coveite, it is in vein; The happes be noght alle liche, On is mad povere, an other riche, 2250 The court to some doth profit, And some ben evere in o plit; And yit thei bothe aliche sore Coveite, bot fortune is more Unto that o part favorable. And thogh it be noght resonable, This thing a man mai sen alday, Wherof that I thee telle may A fair ensample in remembrance, Hou every man mot take his chance 2260 Or of richesse or of poverte. Hou so it stonde of the decerte, Hier is noght every thing aquit, For ofte a man mai se this yit, That who best doth, lest thonk schal have; It helpeth noght the world to crave, Which out of reule and of mesure Hath evere stonde in aventure Als wel in Court as elles where: And hou in olde daies there 2270 It stod, so as the thinges felle, I thenke a tale forto telle.