He seid: "y haue no sone but the,
Line 145
And myn heire þu most nedis be —
Ther may no-man sey nay.
Moche good haue I gadred to-geder
With extorcion & dedis lither —
Alas and welaway!
Line 150
Alle this, sone, y gadred for the:
And thu so sone failest me
At my nedeful day!
Frendship, sone, is ylle to triste,
Eche man be ware of "had y wiste",
Line 155
God wote, so may y say.
Sone, he seid, thu scapest not so —
That shalt þu weten, or thu go —
Hethen charge y the:
To-fore god thu mothe answere,
Line 160
And as thu wilt my blessyng bere,
Myn attourney that thu be."
"A, fader, ye bynde me with a charge,
And y shal bynde yow with as large
As ye bynde now me:
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The same day fortenyght þat ye passe
Y charge yow appere in this place,
Your spiret lat me se!
For ye haue bound me so sare,
Now y most nedis, how-euer y fare,
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Do youre commaundement.
Therfor y charge yow þat ye appere,
That y may se your soule here,
Whethir it be saued or shent, —
And that ye do no scathe to me,
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Ne none that shal come with the!"
"Sone, he seid, y assent.
But allas that y was borne,
Þat man is soule shuld be lorne
For my golde or rent."
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Al thyng most ende atte last.
God soche sekenys on hym cast,
That he most nedis go.
The parishe prest vp was soght,
The gloriose sacrament with hym he broght
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That dyed for mannys woo;
There he shrow hym with hert sore,
And cryed god mercy euer-more,
As it was tyme to do.
When god wold, he went his way.
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His sones song was welaway,
Fo(r) hym his hert was wo.
His sone sought fro toune to toune
For prestis & men of religione,
The dirige for to say.
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An C prestis he had & mo;
Gret yeftys he gaf hem tho,
Chargyng hem for his fader to pray.
Yonge children had gret hole [had st. mad.]
And pore wymmen had gret dole —
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That holpe hym not a day.
And sitthe broght hym in his pytt —
As al men muste, thei may not flyt,
Whethir thei be wel or nay.
When thei had broght hym in his graue,
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His sone, þat thoght his soule to saue
Yf god wold gef hym leue,
Al the catel his fader hade
He sold it vp & money made,
And labored morow & eve:
Line 210
He sought aboute in þat contre tho
Where any almes myght be do,
And largely he dud hem yeue,
Wayes & brugges for to make,
And pore men for goddis sake
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He yeaf them gret releve.
Who-so axed oght, he made here pay,
And XXXti trental of masses he let say
For his fadres sake.
He let neuer til he had bewared
Line 220
Alle the tresour his fader spared,
Aseth to god forto make.
By þat day fortenyghtis ende was come,
His gold was gone, alle & some —
Many one of hym spake;
Line 225
And al thynges that were meuable
He gaf aboute with-outen fable
To pore men that wold take.
By than þe fourtenyght was broght to ende,
The child to the chamber gan wende
Line 230
Where his fader dyed.
