To sle my soule, it were routhe.
Line 55
Any science that is trouthe
Y shal amytte me ther-to;
For to forsake my soule helthe,
For any wynnyng of worldes welthe, [Ms. wordldes.]
That wille y neuer do.
Line 60
Hit hath euer be myn avise
To lede my lyf by marchandise,
To lerne to bye and selle;
That good getyne by marchancye [Ms. marchantye.]
It is trouthe, as thenketh me;
Line 65
Ther-with wille y melle.
Here at Bristow dwellith on,
Is hold right a iuste, trew man,
As y here now telle:
His prentys wille y be VII yere,
Line 70
His science truly for to lere,
And with hym wille y dwelle."
The squyer vnto Bristow rode
And with the marchand cownant made
VII yere to haue his sone;
Line 75
He gaf hym gold gret plente,
The child his prentys shuld be
His science for to conne.
The child toke ful wel to lore;
His loue was in god euer-more,
Line 80
As it was his wone.
He wax so curteise & bolde:
Al merrchauntȝ loued hym, yong & olde,
Þat in þat contre gan wone. —
Leue we now that child thore,
Line 85
And of his fader speke we more,
That was so stoute & bolde.
He was avaunced so hye:
Ther was no-man in þat contre
Durst done but as he wolde.
Line 90
And euer he vsid vsery,
He wold not lene but he wyst why
Avauntage dobelle tolde;
Tethynges he liste neuer to pay;
Yf parsones & vicares wold oght say,
Line 95
He newid hem cares colde.
Alle thyng wol ende atte last.
God on hym soche sekenes cast:
He myght no lenger abide,
But on his ded-bed he lay
Line 100
And drow toward his endyng day,
For al his power & pride.
Then he sent for knyghtes & squyers,
Whiche were his comperys,
In that contre besyde.
Line 105
He seid emonges hem euerychon:
"Sires, my lyf is nere gone,
Hit may not be denyede."
Ther was no-man in þat contre
That his excutour wold be,
Line 110
Nor for no good ne ille; [Der Reim ist verdorben.]
They seid his good was geten so:
They wold not haue þer-with to do,
For drede of god in heuen.
He prayed hem, & they seid nay.
Line 115
Allas he seid and welaway,
With a rufulle stevyne.
After his sone son he sent
Evyn to Bristow verrament —
Was thens but myles VII.
Line 120
The child to chamber toke his way
There his fader on ded-bed lay,
And asked hym of his chere.
"Sone, he seid, wel-come to me!
Y ly here now as þu may se,
Line 125
My endyng day negheth nere.
But, sone, thu most be myn heyre
Of al my londes, good & faire,
And my lordships fere & nere.
Therfor, sone, now y pray the
Line 130
Myn attourney that thu be,
When y am broght to bere."
The child answerd with wordes mylde:
"Ye se, fader, y am but a childe,
Discrecion haue y none;
Line 135
To take soche a charge on me,
By my faith! that shal not be,
Y can no skyle ther-on.
Here ben knyghtes & squyers
Whiche were your compers,
Line 140
And many a worthy man;
Yf y shuld soche on me take [nach soche fehlt charge.]
That alle thes worthi men forsake,
A fole then were y one!"
