"Art thou Thought?" quoth I then, wisse 2 "thou couthest1 me and do me to know." "and Do-best the third, and beeth not far to find. and of his two hands, and loveth his em-Christian,* and holds well his hands, Do-wel him followeth. ac yet he doth more : "Where that Do-wel dwelleth, of that he may spare. 5 he hath to-broke them all Libenter suffertis insipientes, cum sitis ipsi sapientes. And hale with the hooked end ill men to good, And with the point put down Lords that liven as them lust 8 9 prevaricatores legis, and no law accounten, For their muck and their meuble 10 such men thinken That no bishop should their bidding withsit."1 But Do-best should not dreaden them, but do as God highte, 12 Nolite timere eos qui possunt occidere corpus.1 13 And so the Dreamer sets out on his journey to the dwelling of Do-wel, Do-bet, and Do-best. At the suggestion of Thought, he finds Wit and inquires the way. Wit, who was answers his questions, and at the same time delivers a somewhat rambling lecture upon religious subjects and some pointed lessons regarding some of the moral virtues. Study, who is the wife of Wit, thereupon upbraids him for giving his wisdom to fools, And said, Noli mittere, ye men, margerie-pearls And she cautions him to beware, also, of showing Holy And there shall come a king, And beat you as the bible telleth, and confess your religions, for breaking of your rule: And amend moniales, monks, and canons. ever, and all his issue for Have a knock of a king, and incurable the wound. are "This is a long lesson, and little am I the wiser." The visions which follow-there are nine in allof a similar kind, introducing new personifications of 2 refectory. 3 wealth. 1 See Matthew vii. 6. moral and intellectual qualities and mildly satirizing the prevalent vices of society and the corruptions of the Church. In the end, Piers, the humble ploughman, is identified with Christ; and the poet describes the Saviour's passion, his descent into hell, the founding of the Church, and the coming of antichrist. The stronghold of the Church is attacked by an army of priests and monks, and Conscience, deserted and almost despairing, cries out for help. But, no one coming, he takes a pilgrim's staff and vows that he will wander over the wide world to seek Piers the Ploughman. "Now, Kind, avenge me, and send me hap and hele till I have Piers Ploughman!" And after that he cried aloud upon Grace, and the poet awoke. SELECTIONS FROM "PIERS PLOUGHMAN." CONSCIENCE, THE PREACHER. The Kyng and his Knihtes to the Churche wenten To heere Matyns and Masse and to the Mete afterr. Then waked I of my wink me was wo with alle That I nedde sadloker i-slept and i-sege more. Er I a furlong hedde i-fare, a feyntise me hente, That forther mihti not a-fote for defaute of sleep. I sat softeliche a-doun and seide my bileve, And so I bablede on my beodes, thei brouhte me a-slepe, The king and his knights to the church went To hear matins and mass and to their meat after. Then waked I of my dream and was sorrowful withal That I had not more soundly slept and seen more. Before I a furlong had gone a faintness me seized, and said my creed, Then sauh I muche more then I beofore tolde, For I sauh the feld ful of folk that ich of bi-fore schewede, And Concience with a crois com for to preche. He preide the peple haue pite of hem-selue, And preued that this pestilences weore for puire synne, And this south westerne wynt on a Seterday at euen Was a-perteliche for pruide and for no poynt elles. Piries and plomtres weore passchet to the grounde, In ensaumple to men that we scholde do the bettre. Beches and brode okes weore blowen to the eorthe, And turned upward the tayl in toknyng of drede That dedly Synne or domesday schulde fordon hem alle. Of this matere I mihte momele ful longe, Bote I sigge as I sauh (so me god helpe)! How Concience with a crois comsede to preche. He bad wastors go worche what thei best couthe, And wynne that thei wasteden with sum maner craft. He preigede Pernel hire porfil to leue, And kepen hit in hire cofre, for catel at neode. He warned Watte his wyf was to blame, That hire hed was worth a mark and his hod worth a grote. He chargede chapmen to chasten heore children; Let hem wonte non eige, while that thei ben yonge. Then saw I much more than I before told, For I saw the field full of folk to have pity of themselves, And proved that these pestilences were for pure sin, And this south-western wind on a Saturday evening Was a punishment for pride and for nothing else. Pear-trees and plum-trees were pushed to the ground For example to men that we should do better. Beeches and broad oaks were blown to the earth, And turned upward their roots in sign of fear That deadly sin or doomsday should destroy them all. Of this matter I might chatter full long, But I tell what I saw (so God help me)! How Conscience with a cross commenced to preach. He bade idlers go work as best they knew how, And win what they wasted with some kind of craft. He advised Penelope her embroidery to leave, And keep it in her chest for money and needs. He warned Wat that his wife was to blame, That her head was worth a mark and his hood worth a farthing. He charged business men to chastise their children; Let them want no eye while they are young. He preyede preestes and prelates to-gedere, That thei prechen the peple to preuen hit in hem-seluen"And libben as ge lereth us, we wolen loue ow the betere." He prayed the priests and prelates together, That what they preach to the people to practise in themselves "And live as you teach us, we will love you the better." Envye with heui herte asket aftur schrift, And gretliche his gultus bi-ginneth to schewe. As pale as a pelet in a palesye he seemede, I-clothed in a caurimauri I couthe him not discreue. were the fore sleuys. As a leek that hedde i-leigen longe in the sonne, So loked he with lene chekes; lourede he foule. His bodi was bolled, for wraththe he bot his lippes, Wrothliche he wrong his fust; he thougte him a-wreke With werkes or with wordes, whon he seig his tyme. ENVY. Envy with heavy heart in a palsy he seemed, Clothed in a caurimauri which I cannot describe. A kirtle and a short cloak, a knife by his side; Of a friar's dress were the fore sleeves. As a leek that had lain long in the sun, So looked he with lean cheeks; scowled he wickedly. His body was swollen; for wrath he bit his lips; Angrily he wrung his fist; he thought to avenge himself With works or with words, when he saw his time. "When I come to the church and kneel before the cross, And should pray for the people, as the priest teacheth us, Then I cry, upon my knees, that Christ give them sorrow That hath carried away my bowl and my wide sheet. From the altar I turn my eyes, and behold How Heyne (Henry?) hath a new coat and his wife another; |