| For drede ofte my lippes I steke,For false reportours that trouhte mys-famed. 1Yut Charitee chargeth me to speke
Though trouthe be dred, he nys not ashamed.
Trouthe secheth non hernes ther los is lamed; 2
Trouthe is worschiped at every des.
In that kyngdom ther trouthe is blamed,
God sendes vengeaunce to make trouthe have pes.
Trouthe is messager to ryght,
And ryght is counseille to Justice;
Justice in Goddis stede is dyght. 3
Do evene lawe to fooll and wyse.
Set mesure in evene assise,
The righte weye as lawe ges.
And lawe be kept, folk nyl not ryse.
That kyngdom shal have reste and pes.
Yif suche a tale-tellere were,
To a kyng apayre a mannys name,
The kyng shulde bothe partyes here,
And punysche the fals for defame.
Than fals men wolde ases for blame;
For falshed, body and soule it sles.
Falshed endes ay in shame,
And trouthe, in worschipe and in pes.
Whanne lawe is put fro right assise,
And domes man made by mede,
For fawte of lawe yif comouns rise,
Than is a kyngdom most in drede.
For whanne vengeaunce a comouns lede,
Thei do gret harm er they asses.
There no man other doth mysbede,
That kyngdom shal have reste and pes.
Whan craft riseth agens craft
In burgh, toun, or citée,
They go to lordes whan lawe is laft,
Whoche party may strengere be.
But wyse men the sonere se
By witles wille they gedre pres,
Or lordis medle in foly degré,
Let lawe have cours in reste and pes.
Yit there is the thridde distaunce
Bryngeth a kyngdom in moche noyghe:
Ofte chaunge of governaunce
Of all degré, lowe and hyghe.
A kyng may not al aspie,
Summe telle hym soth, summe telle hym les.
The whete fro the chaff ye tryghe,
So mowe ye leve in reste and pes.
I speke not in specyale
Of oo kyngdom the lawe to telle;
I speke hool in generale
In eche kyngdom the lawe to telle.
Also is writen in the Gospelle
A word that God Hym-selven ches:
Rathere than fighte, a man go selle
On of his clothes, and bighe hym pes.
A worthi knyght wol worchip wynne;
He wil not yelde hym though me thret,
But rathere as Malice doth begynne,
Quenche hit at the firste het.
For, and ye lete it growe gret,
Hit brenneth breme as fyre in gres.
Laweles novellerye loke ye lete,
So mowe ye lyve in reste and pes.
Old speche is spoken yore:
What is a kyngdom tresory?
Bestayle, corn stuffed in store,
Riche comouns, and wyse clergy;
Marchaundes, squyers, chivalry
That wol be redy at a res,
And chevalrous kyng in wittes hyghe,
To lede in were and governe in pes.
Among philosofres wyse
In here bokes men writen fynde
That synne is cause of cowardyse;
Wel lyvyng man, hardy of kynde;
Wikked lyvere, graceles, blynde,
He dredeth deth, the laste mes.
The good lyvere hath God in mynde,
That mannys counseil maketh pes.
What kyng that wol have good name,
He wol be lad by wys counsayle
That love worschip and dreden shame,
And boldely dar fende and assayle.
There wit is, corage may not fayle,
For wysdom nevere worschip les.
Corage in querell doth batayle,
And ende of batayle bygynneth pes.
Defaute of wit maketh long counsayle;
For witteles wordes in ydel spoken.
The more cost, the lesse avayle;
For fawte of wyt, purpos broken.
In evyl soule no grace is stoken,
For wikked soule is graceles.
In good lyvere Goddis wille is loken,
That mannys counsell maketh pes.
To wete yif parlement be wys,
The comoun profit wel it preves.
A kyngdom in comouns lys,
Alle profytes, and alle myscheves.
Lordis wet nevere what comouns greves
Til here rentis bigynne to ses.
There lordis ere, pore comons releves,
And mayntene hem in werre and pes.
Make God youre ful frend;
Do the comaundement that He bede.
Though all the world agen yow wend,
Be God youre frend, ye thar not drede:
For there as God His frendis lede,
He saveth hem bothe on lond and sees.
Who-so fighteth, God doth the dede,
For God is victorie and pes.
What kyngdom werreth hym-self with-ynne
Distroyeth hym-self, and no mo.
With-oute here enemys bygynne
On eche a syde assayle hem so.
The comouns, they wil robbe and slo,
Make fyere, and kyndel stres.
Whan ryches and manhode is wastede and go,
Than drede dryveth to trete pes.
The world is like a fals lemman:
Fayre semblaunt and moche gyle.
Withouten heire dyeth no man,
God is chief Lord of toun and pyle.
God maketh mony heire in a whyle,
For God ressayveth eche reles;
God kan breke hegge and style,
And make an hey wey to pes.
God made lordis governoures
To governe puple in unyté.
The puple, ne ryches, nys not youres:
Al is Goddis, and so be ye.
Eche day ye may youre myrrour se:
Eche man after other deses.
Youre auncetres arn gon, after shal ye,
To endeles werre or endeless pes.
Eche kyng is sworn to governaunce
To governe Goddis puple in right.
Eche kyng bereth swerd of Goddis vengeaunce
To felle Goddis foon in fight.
And so doth everons honest knyght
That bereth the ordre as it wes;
The plough, the chirche, to mayntene ryght
Are Goddis champyons to kepe the pes.
The world is like a chery fayre,
Ofte chaungeth all his thynges.
Riche, pore, foul, and fayre,
Popes, prelates, and lordynges,
Alle are dedly, and so ben kynges.
Or deth lede yow in his les,
Arraye by tyme youre rekenynges,
And trete with God to gete yow pes.
What bryngeth a kyngdom al above?
Wys counseil and good governaunce.
Eche lord wil other love,
And rule wel labourers sustynaunce.
God maketh for His frendis no destaunce,
For God kan skatre the grete pres.
God for His frendis math ordynaunce,
And governeth hem in werre and pes.
Good lyf is cause of good name;
Good name is worthi to have reveraunce.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Synne is cause of grevaunce.
Eche kyngdom hongeth in Goddis balaunce;
With hym that holdeth, with hym that fles.
Ye have fre wille, chese youre chaunce
To have with God werre or pes. |
