Riccher þan his auenant is,
And þerto winneþ catel amys
Wiþ falsdam and trecherie
To meyntene his herte hye —
Of suche pride, as þat is,
God nis not paied ywis.
Bot þei a man after his myht
Beo clanliche clothed and dyght
Of þat he may wiþ treuthe winne,
Suche pride is no sinne.
God wile þat eche creature
Be his poer his body honoure,
Bot þat he despise nothing
Him þat is in pore clothing.
If he despise any wight
Þat is poreliche ydight,
Þanne doþ he amys,
For þat is sinne and pride ywis.
And an oþer poynt þer is
In pouert pride ywis.
Þei a man haue nought,
Ȝet he may beo proud in thouht
And wilne to winne þing amis,
To make him prodder þan he is,
And þoruh thouht and wikke wille
Þe sely soule he may spille.
Wite eche riche man him þerfro,
Pride wirkeþ man ful wo.
Be Lucifer a man may wite,
Fo[r] pride, þat in him was smyte,
Þe mychel ioye of heuen he les
And þe pyne of helle he chees.
Alto long it were to bide
To telle þe wo þat comeþ of pride.
Nou haue ȝe herd a partye,
Nou shul ȝe here of glotonye.
It is no glotony ywis [folio 157b]
To ete and drink, whan tyme is,
For god almyhty him self wile
Þat man ete ynouh be skile.
