Þe messager hette auentures,
Aȝeynes him mai beo no stryf. [ 30]
Whon he comeþ to a monnes hous,
He takeþ boþe hosebonde and þe wyf.
He takeþ þe child in his cradel,
Þauh he beo but on niht old,
Þe kniht an horse in his sadel, [ 35]
I-armed beo he neuer so bold.
Of him beo vche mon i-war
And mak him clene, ar he be hent,
For þer nis no ȝeyn-char,
Whon auentures comeþ to turnyment. [ 40]
Mony mon liþ in dedly synne
And weneþ, þat he beo not veyȝe,
And aue[n]tures comeþ wiþ his gynne
And hunteþ, til he haue his preyȝe.
In dedly sinne he is I-founde [ 45]
Wiþ oute schrift and repentaunce,
He geþ in to helle grounde,
Þer to suffre his penaunce.
Seint Poul bit, we schulden awake.
Þis clerkes witen as wel as I, [ 50]
Þat we schulden vs clene make
And of vr sinnes ben sori.
And bote we ben, we schullen abugge;
Þer schal no pledur plede þat.
Þer god vs fynt, he wol vs jugge; [ 55]
Nou vche mon be war bi þat.
For auentures wol come as a þeof
Beo nihte, whon men beon a slepe,
And taken awey, þat him is leof;
Nou awakeþ, þat ȝe mowen him kepe. [ 60]
Anoþer messager þer is
Of deth, whon Crist wol him sende:
Seknesse, ichaue I-herd ar þis,
Þe messager is swiþe hende.
Whon seknesse comeþ to a mon, [ 65]
He may be war, ȝif he is sleih,
And greiþen his in, ȝif þat he con
And þenken, þat deþ is swiþe neih.
For seknesse comeþ apertely;
He ne dareþ not in his den. [ 70]
Hit is vr lordes curtesy,
Wiþ seknesse forte warne men.
Moni men, whon þat heo ben seke,
To Jhesu Crist a clepen and crie
And to his mylde moder eke [ 75]
And sigge: 'Nou you help, Marie!
Ȝif þat we mowe beo sound and saue
And keuere, þat we mowen habbe vr hele,
Al þe good, þat we haue,
For godes loue we wolleþ hit dele.' [ 80]
We loue wel god in al vr þouȝt,
Whon we beo seke and sore smerte;
Whon we ben hol, we louen him nouȝt,
He nis no lengor in vre herte.
Cum fero langorem, fero religionis amorem:
Expers langoris non sum memor huius amoris.
Of Crist ne takeþ he non hede, [ 85]
He naþ no more wiþ him to donne;
To þonken him for his gode dede,
He þenkeþ no more þer vpponne.
Suche men beoþ ofte al one I-let,
To pleye as þe foul doþ in þe lyft, [ 90]
Til auentures haue wiþ hem met,
Bireueþ hem boþe hosul and schrift.
Men ouȝten holden vp boþe her honden
To god, while heo ben hole and fere,
To sende, whon he wol hem fonden, [ 95]
Seknesse to ben heore messagere.
Seint Poul seiþ, vre lordes kniht,
In a pistel, þat he wrot,
Þat he was strengest and most of miht,
Whon god him wiþ seknesse smot. [ 100]
Nou ichulle siggen ow of elde;
Of messager he is þe þridde.