And if a man be falsely famed,
And wol ymake purgacioun,
Than wol the' officers be agramed,
And assign him fro toun to toun;
So nede he must payin raunsome,
Though he be clene as is christall,
And than have an absolution;

But al suche false shal foule befall.

Though be be giltie of the dede,
And that he maie the money paie,
Al the while his purse wol yblede
He may use it fro day to day.
The bishopes officers gone gay,
And this game they use ovir all,
The pore to pil is al their pray;
But al suche false shul foule befall.

Alas! God ordained no such lawe,
Ne no suche crafte of covetise,
But he forbad it by his lawe;
Suche rulers mowen of God agrise,
For al his ruljs ben rightwise:
These newe pointis ben pure papall,
And Godd'is lawe they all dispisce,
And al suche faitours shul foule fall.

They saine that Peter had the key
Of Heven and Hel, to have and holde;
I trowe Peter toke no money
For no sinnis that he ysolde :
Suche successours yben to bolde,
In winning all ther witte they wral,
Ther conscience is waxin colde,
And al such faitours foul 'hem fall.

Peter was ner so, grete a fole,
To leve his key with suche a lorell,
Or take suche cursid soc or tole,
He was advisid nothing well;
I trowe they have the key of Hell,
Their maistir is of that marshall,
For there thei dressin 'hem to dwell,
And with false Lucifer to fall.

Thei ben as proude as Lucifarre,
As angry and as envious;

From a gode faith thei ben ful farre;
In covetise thei ben curious;
To catche catil as covitous

As hounde that for hungre woll yall,
Ungodly and ungracious;

And nedely suche false shal foule fall.

The Pope, and he were Peter's heire,
Me thinke he errith in this case,
Whan choice of bishop's in dispaire
To chosin 'hem in divers place,
A lorde shal write to him for grace,
For his clerke anone pray he shall,
So shal he spedin his purchase;
And al suche false foule 'hem befall.

Although he can ne manir gode
A lord'is prayir shal be spedde,
Though he be wilde of wil or wode,
Nat understanding what men redde,
A leude boistir, that God forbedde,
As gode a bishoppe' is my horse Ball;
Suche a pope is full foule bestede,
And at the laste wol foule yfall.

He makith priestes for erthly thanke,
And not at all for Christ'is sake;
Suche that yben ful fat and ranke,
To soule'is hele none hede they take;
Al is wel done what er they make,
For they shal answere ones for all;
For world'is thank such worch and wake,
And al suche false shal foule befall.

Suche that can nat ysay ther crede With prayer shall be made prelates, Nothir can thei the gospell rede, Suche shul now weldin hie estates: The hie godes frendship 'hen makes, Thei totith on ther summe totall; Suche bere the keyes of Hell'is yates, And all suche false shal foule befall.

Thei forsakin for Christ'is love
Travaile, and hungre, thurste, and colde;
They ben ordrid or al above
Out of youthed til they ben olde;
By the dore they go nat to the folde,
To helpe ther shepe they nought traval,
For hirid men al suche I holde,
And al suche false foule 'hem befall.

For Christ our king thei wol forsake,
And know him nought for his poverte,
For Christ'is love they wol awake,
And drinke piement al aperte:
Of God they seme nothing aferde,
As lusty live as Lamual,

And drive ther shepe into desert;
Al suche false faitours shul foule fal.

Christ yhad twelve apostles here,
Nowe say they ther may be but one
That may not erre in no manere,
Who leve not this ben lost echone:
Peter errid, so did not Joan;
Why is he cleped the principall?
Christe cleped him Peter, not the stone
Al false faitours foule 'hem befal.

Why cursin they the croisery
Christ'is christian creturis?
For bytwene them is now envy
To be enhaunsid in honours;
Christin livers with ther labours,
For they levin on no mortal,
Ben do to deth with dishonours,
And al suche false foule 'hem befal.

What knoweth a tilloure at the plowe
The pop'is name, and what he hate?
His crede suffiseth to' him mowe,
And knowith a cardi'nal by his hatte.
Rough is the pore unrightly latte,
That knowith Christ his God royal;
Suche matters be not worth a gnatte,
But suche false faitours foule 'hem fal.

A king shal knele and kisse his showe,
Christ let a sinful kisse his fete,
Me thinke he holdeth him hie inowe;
So Lucifer did, that hie set:
Suche one me thinke himselfe foryet,
Or to the trouth he was nat cal:
Christe that suffirid woundis wete,
Shall make all suche falshed foule fall.

They layith out ther large nettes
For to takin silvir and golde,
Thei fillin coffers, and sackes fettes
Ther as they soulis catchin sholde;
Ther servauntes be to them unholde;
But they can doublin ther rentall;

To bigge 'hem castles bigge 'hem holde;
And al suche false foule 'hem befall.

HERE ENDETH THE FIRST PARTE OF THIS TALE, AND HEREAFTER FOLOWETH THE SECONDE PARTE.

To accorde what this wordè fall
No more English ne can I finde,
Shewing anothir now I shall,
For I have moche to saye behinde,
How priestis han the peple pinde,
As curteis Christe yhath me kinde,
And put this matter in my minde,
To make this manir men amende.

Shortely to shende 'hem, and shewe nowe
How wrongfully they werche and walke,
Of hie God nothing tell, ne howe,
But in Goddes worde tell many a balke,
In harnis holde 'hem and in halke,
And prechen' of tithis and offrende,
And untruely of the gospel talke;
For his mercy God it amende!

What els is Antichriste to saie
But even Christ'is adversarie ?
Suche hath now ben many a daie
To Christ'is bidding ful contrarie,
That from the trouthè clene ywarry;
Out of the way they ben ywende,
And Christ'is peple untruely cary;
God for his pitie it amende!

They live contrary to Christes life,
In hie pride against mekènesse,
Against suffraunce they usin strife,
And angre ayenst sobrenesse,
Ayenist wisedom wilfulnesse;
To Christ'is talis litil tende,
Against mesure outrigiousnesse;
But whan God wol it may amende.

Lordely life ayenst lowlinesse,
And demin al without mercy,
And covetise ayenste largesse,
Ayenist trouthè trechery,
And ayeinst almesse envy;
Ayenist Christ they comprehende;
For chastite mainteine leche'ry;
God for his gracè this amende!

Against penaunce thei use delightes,
Ayenst suffraunce strong defence,
Ayenst God they usin ill rightes,
Ayenist pitie punishmentes,
Open' evil ayenst continence ;
Ther wickid winning worse dispende,
Sobirnesse sette in to dispence;
God for his godenesse it amende!

Why cleimin they holy' his powere,
And wranglin ayenst al his hestes?
His living folowe thei nought here,
But liuing worse than witlesse bestes;
Of fishe and fleshe they lovin festes.;
As lordis they ben brode ikende;
Of Godd'is pore thei hatin gestes;
God for his mercy this amende!

With Dives such shall have ther dome,
That saine that they be Christ'is frendes,
And do nothing as they should done,
Al suche ben falsir than ben fendes:
On the peple they ley suche bendes
As God in erth they han offende;
Succour for such Christe now send us,
And for his mercy this amende!

A token' of Antichrist they be;
His careckes ben now wide iknowc,
Receved to preche shal no man be
Without tokin of him I trowe:
Eche Christin priest to prechin owe,
From God above thei ben ysende
Goddes word to al folke for to showe,
And sinful man for to amende.

Christ sent the porè for to preche,
The royal riche he did not so,
Now dare no pore the peple teche,
For Antichrist is all ther foe;
Among the peple he mote go,
He hath biddin al suche suspende,

Some hath he hent, and thinketh yet mo;
But al this God may wel amende.

Al tho that han the worlde forsake
And livin lowly, as God badde,
Into ther prison shulle be take,
Betin and boundin, and forth ladde:
Hereof I rede no man be dradde,
Christ said that his should be yshende;
Eche man ought hereof to be gladde,
For God ful wel it wol amende.

They take on 'hem royall power,
And say they havin swerdis two,
One curse to Hel, one sle men here:
At his taking Christ had no mo,
Yet Peter had but one of tho,
And Christ to him smite gan defende,
And into the' sheth badde put it tho;
And al suche mischeves God amende!

Christ bad Peter to kepe his shepe,
And with his sworde forbade 'hem smite;
Swerde is no tole with shepe to kepe,
But to shepherdes that shepe wol bite;
Me thinke suche shepherdes ben to wite
Who' ayen ther shepe with swerde contende;
They drive ther shepe with grete despite ;
But al this God may well amende.

Peter's successoures be thei nought
Whom Christ ymade his chefe pastoure;
A swerde no shepherde asin ought
But he would sle as a bochour:

Who so were Peter's successoure
Should bere his shepe til his backe bende,
And shadowe 'hem from every shoure;
And al this God may wel amende.

Successours to Peter ben these

In that, that Peter Christe forsoke,
That levir had God's love to lese
Than shepherde had to lese his hoke;
He culleth the shepe as doth the coke;
Of 'em takin they woll untrende,
And falsely glose the Gospell boke;
God for his mercy them amende !

Whan Christ bad take Peter the kay
Christ saide he must ydie for man;
That Peter to Christ gan withsay,
Christ bad him "Go behinde, Sathan:"
Suche counsailours many' of these han,
For world'is wele God to offende;
Peter's successours they ben than,
But al suche God may wel amende

For Sathan is to say no more
But he that countrary to Christ is,
In this they lernin Peter's lore,
They sewin him whạn he did misse;
They folowe him forsoth in this
That Christ would Peter reprehende,
But nat that longith to' hevin blisse;
God for his mercie 'hem amende!

Thei none apostle sewen, in case
Of ought that I can understonde,
But him that betraieth Christ, Judas,
That bare the purse in every londe,
And al that he might sette on honde
He hidde and stale, and it mispende:
His rule these traitours han in honde;
Almighty God all suche amende !

And at the last his lorde gan tray
Cursidly through false covetise,
So would these traine him for money
And they ywistin in what wise;
They be sikre' of the fele ensise.
From all sothnesse they ben yfrende,
And covetise chaunge with quentise;
Almighty God al suche amende !

Were Christ upon erth, here efte sone,
These wouldin dampnè him to die;
All his hestis they han fordone,
And saine his sawes ben heresie;
Ayenst his commaundementes they crie,
And dampnin all his to be brende,
For thei ne like suche losengrie;
God Almighty all suche amende!

These han more might in Englande here
Than hath the king and all his lawe,
They han purchasid suche powere
To takin 'hem whom list not knawe,
And say that heresie' is ther sawe,
Aud so to prison wol 'hem sende;
It was not so by eldir dawe;
God for his mercy it amende!

The king'is lawe wol no man deme
Angerliche withoutin answere,
But if any man these misqueme
He shall be baightid as a bere,
And yet wel worse they wol him tere,
And in prison wollin him pende
In ginis, and in othir gere;
Whan that God woll it may amende.

The king ne taxith nat his men
But by assent of the commi'nalte,
But these eche yere wol raunsom 'hem
Maistirfully, more than dothe be:
Ther selis by yere bettir be
Than is the king'is in extende,
Ther officers han gretir fe;

But alle this mischefe God amende ! →

Who so wol prove a testament
That is nat al worth tennè pounde,
He shal paye for the parchèment
The thirde of the money all rounde;
Thus the pore peple is ransounde,
They say suche parte t'em should apende,
There as they gripen' it goeth to grounde;
God for his mercy it amende !

A simple fornication

Twenty shillingis he shall pay,.
And than have absolucion

And al the yere use it he may:
Thus thei lettin 'hem go astray;

Thei recke nat though the soule be brende;
These kepin evill Peter's kay;

And al suche shepherdes God amende!

Wondir is that the parliamente,
And all the lordis of this londe,
Here to takin so lite entente

To helpe the peple' out of their honde,
For thei ben hardir in ther bonde,
Worse bete, and cruellir ybrende,
Than to the king is understand;
God him helpe this for to amende!

What bishoppes, what religions,
Han in this lande as muche lay fe,
Lordeshippis and possessions,
More than lordis it semith me;
That makith 'hem lese charite:
They mowin not to God attende,
In erth thei have so highe degre;
God for his mercy it amende!

The Empe'rour yafe the Pope somtime
So highè lordeship him about,
That at the last the sely kime
The proudè Pope yput him out,
So of this relme is in grete dout;
But, Lordes, beware, and them defende,
For nowe these folke be wondir stoute;
The king and lords now this amende.

THUS ENDETH THE SECONDE PARTE OF THIS TALE, AND HEREAFTER FOLLOWETH THE THIRDE

MOYSES lawe forbode it tho

That prestis should no lordshippes welde,
Christ'is gospell biddith also

That they should no lordshippis helde;
Christes apostels were ner so bolde,
No suche lordshippes to 'hem embrace,
But sklere ther shepe and kepe ther folde
May God amende 'hem for his grace!

.

For theine ben but counterfete,
Men may yknow 'hem by ther fruite,
Ther gretenesse maketh 'hem God foryete,
And take his mekenesse in despite;
And thei were pore and had but lite
Thei n'old nat demen' aftir the face,
Norishe ther shepe, and 'hem nat bite;
May God amende 'hem for his grace!

GRIFFON.

What canst thou preche ayenst chanons That men yclepin Seculere?

PELLICAŃ.

Thei ben curates of many tounes,
On yerth they havin grete powere,
They have grete prebendis and dere,
Some two or thre, and some have mo,
A parsonage to ben playing fere,
And yet thei serve the king also,
And let to-fermè all that fare

To whom that wol moste give therfore,
Some wollin spende, and some woll spare,
And some wol laye it up in store;
A cure of soule they care not fore,
So that they mowin money take;
Whethir ther soules be wonne or lore
Ther profites they wo!l not forsake.
They have a gedering procuratour,
That can the pore peple enplede,
And roble 'hem as a ravinour,
And to his lorde the mony lede,
And catche of quicke and eke of dede,
And richin him and his lorde eke,
And to robbe the pore give gode rede
Of olde and yonge, of hole and sicke.
Therwith they purchase 'hem lay fe
In londe, there as 'hem likith best,
And buildin brode as a cite
Both in the est and in the west;
To purchase thus they ben ful prest,
But on the pore they woll nought spende,
Ne no gode give to Godd'is gest,

Ne' sende him some that all hath sende.

By ther service soche wollin live,
And trust that othir to tresure;
Though all ther parishe die unshrive
Thei woll nat givin a rose floure;
Ther life should be as a mirrour
Both to lerid and leude also,

And teche the folke ther lele labour;

Soche maister men ben all misgo.

Some of 'hem yben full harde nigges,
And some of 'hem ben proude and gaie,
Some spendin ther gode upon gigges,
And findin 'hem of grete araie.
Alas! what thinke these men to saie
That thus dispendin Godd'is gode?
At the grete dredefull dom'is daie
Soche wretchis shall be worse than wode.

Some ther churchis nevir ne sie,
Ne ner o penie thidir sende;
Though that the pore for hungir die,
O penie' on 'hem will thei not spende:
Have thei receiving of the rente
'Thei recke ner of the remènaunt;
Alas! the devill hath clene 'hem blente;
Soche one is Sathanes sojournaunt.

And use horedome and harlottrie,
And covetise, and pompe, and pride,
And slothe, and wrathe, and eke envie,
And sewin sinne by every side;
Alas! where thinkin soche t' abide?
How woll thei ther accomptis yeld?
From hie God thei mowe 'hem not hide;
Soche willers witte' is not worth a nelde.

Thei ben so rotid in richesse
That Christ'is povert is foryet;
Yservid with so many messe

Hem thinke that manna is no mete:
All is gode that thei mowin gete;
Thei wene to livin evirmore ;
But whan that God at dome is sete
Soche tresour is a feble store.

Unnethis mote thei matins saie
For counting and for courtholding,
And yet he jangilith as jaie,
And understont himself nothing;
He woll yserve bothe erle and king
For his finding and for his fe,
And hide his tithing and offring;
This is a feble charite.

Othir thei ben proude or cove'tous,
Or elles thei ben hard or hungrie,
Or thei ben libe'rall or lecherous,
Or els medlers with marchandrie,
Mainteiners of men with maistric,
Or stewardes, countours, or pledours,
And serve God in ypocrisie ;

Soche priestis ben Christes false traitours.

Thei ben false, thei ben vengeable,
And begile men in Christ'is name;
Thei ben unstedfast and unstable;
To traie ther Lorde 'hem thinke no shame;
To servin God thei ben full lame;
Godd'is thevis, and falsely stele,
And falsely Godd'is worde defame;
In winning is ther world'is wele.

Antichrist these priestis serve all,
I praie the who maie sayin Naie!
With Antichrist soche shullin fall,
Thei folowen him in dede and faie
Thei servin him in riche araie,
To servin Christ soche falsely fain;
Why at the dredfull dom'is daie
Shull thei not folowe him to pain?

That knowen 'hem self that thei doen ill
Ayenst Christ'is commaundèment,
And amende 'hem ner ne will,
But serve Sathan by one assent.
Who sayith sothe he shall be shent,
Or speketh ayenst ther false living,
Who so well livith shall be brent,
For soche ben gretir than the king.

Popis, bishops, and cardinals,
Chanons, and parsons, and vicare,
In Goddes service I trowe ben fals
That sacramentis sellin here,
And ben as proude as Lucifere :
Eche man loke whethir that I lie;
Who so spekith ayeust ther powere
It shall be holdin heresie.

At the wrestling and at the wake,
And the chief chauntours at the nale,
Market beters, and medling make,
Hoppen' and houtin with heve and hale;
At faire freshe, and at winè stale,
Thei dine and drinke, and make debate,
The seven sacramentes set a saile;
Kepe soche the kaies of hevin gate?

Mennis wivis thei wollin hold,
And though that thei ben right sory,
To speke thei shull not be so bold,
For sompning to' the consistory,

And make 'hem saie with mouthe I lie
Though thei it sawin with ther eye
His lemman holdin opinly

No man so harde to aske why.

He woll have tithing and offring
Maugre whosoevir it grutche,
And twise on the daie he woll sing:
Godd'is priestis ne were none soche;
He mote go hunte with dogge and biche,
And blowen his horne and cryin Hey,
And sorcerie usen as a witche;
Soche kepin evill Peter's key.

Yet thei mote have some stocke or stone
Gaily paintid and proudly dight,
To makin men livin upon,
And saie that it is full of might,
About soche men set up grete light,
Other soche stockes shull stande therby
As darke as if it were midnight,
For it maie makin no mastrie..

That it the leude peple se mowe,
Thou Mary, thou worchest wondir thinges,
About that that men offrin to
Hongin brochis, ouchis, and ringes;
The priest purchasith the offringes,
But he n'ill offir to' none image:
Wo is the soule that he forsinges
That prechith for soche pilgrimage!

To men and women that ben pore,
Which that ben Christ'is owne likenesse,
Men shullen offir at ther dore,
That suffre hungir and distresse,
And to soche image offir lesse,

That mowe not fele ne thirstene cold;
The pore in spirite gan Christ blesse,
Therfore offrith to feble' and old.

Buckilers brode and swerdis long,
Baudrike, with baselardis kene,

Soche toles about ther necke thei hong:
With Antichrist soche priestis ben;
Upon ther dedes it is well sene

Whom thei servin, whom thei honouren: Antichrist'is thei ben all clene,

And Godd'is godes falsly devouren.

Of scarlet and grene gaiè gounes,
That mote be shapin for the newe,
To clippen and kissin in tounes
The damoseles that to the daunce sewe,
Cuttid clothes to sewe ther hewe,
With longè pikis on ther shone:
Our Godd'is gospell is not true;
Either thei serve the devill or none.

Now ben the priestis pokes so wide
Men must enlarge the vestiment,
The holy gospell they doen hide
For the contrarien in raiment ;
Such pristes of Lucifer ben sent:
Like conquerours thei ben araied,
The proude pendauntes at ther ars pent,
Falsely the trueth thei han betraied.

Shrift silvir soche wollin askeis,

And wollin men crepe to the crouche;
None of the sacramentes save askis
Withouten moede shall no man touche ;.

On ther bishop ther warant vouche,
That is a law of the decre:

With mede and money thus thei mouche,
And thus thei sain is charite.

Within the middis of ther masse
Thei n'ill have no mau but for hire,
And full shortly let forth ypasse:
Soche shull men findin in eche shire
That parsonages for gaine desire
To live in liking and in lustes;
I dare not sain sans ose jeo dire

That soche ben Antichrist'is priestis.

Or thei yef the bishoppis why,
Or thei mote ben in his service,
And holdin forth ther harlottrie,
Soche prelates ben of feble' emprise ;
Of Godd'is grame soche men agrise,
For soche mattirs that takin mede,
How thei' excuse hem, and in what wise,
Methinketh thei ought gretely drede.