Passus 14
"I have but oon hool hater,' quod Haukyn, "1 am the lasse to blame
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Though it be soiled and selde clene--I slepe therinne o nyghtes;
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And also I have an houswif, hewen and children--
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Uxorem duxi, et ideo non possum venire--
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That wollen bymolen it many tyme, maugree my chekes.
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It hath be laved in Lente and out of Lente bothe
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With the sope of siknesse, that seketh wonder depe,
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And with the losse of catel, that looth me w[ere]
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For to agulte God or any good man, by aught that I wiste;
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And was shryven of the preest, that [for my synnes gaf me]
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To penaunce, pacience, and povere men to fede,
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Al for coveitise of my Cristendom in clennesse to kepen it.
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And kouthe I nevere, by Crist! kepen it clene an houre,
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That I ne soiled it with sighte or som ydel speche,
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Or thorugh werk or thorugh word, or wille of myn herte,
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That I ne flobre it foule fro morwe til even.'
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"And I shal kenne thee,' quod Conscience, "of Contricion to make
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That shal clawe thi cote of alle kynnes filthe--
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Cordis contricio &c;
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Dowel shal wasshen it and wryngen it thorugh a wis confessour--
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Oris confessio &c;
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Dobet shal beten it and bouken it as bright as any scarlet,
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And engreynen it with good wille and Goddes grace to amende the,
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And sithen sende thee to Satisfaccion for to sonnen it after:
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Satisfaccio.
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"And Dobest kepe[th] clene from unkynde werkes.
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Shal nevere my[te] bymolen it, ne mothe after biten it,
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Ne fend ne fals man defoulen it in thi lyve.
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Shal noon heraud ne harpour have a fairer garnement
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Than Haukyn the Actif man, and thow do by my techyng,
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Ne no mynstrall be moore worth amonges povere and riche
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Than Haukyn wi[l] the wafrer, which is Activa Vita.'
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"And I shal purveie thee paast,' quod Pacience, "though no plough erye,
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And flour to fede folk with as best be for the soule;
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Though nevere greyn growed, ne grape upon vyne,
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Alle that lyveth and loketh liflode wolde I fynde,
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And that ynogh--shal noon faille of thyng that hem nedeth.
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We sholde noght be to bisy abouten oure liflode:
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Ne soliciti sitis &c; Volucres celi Deus pascit &c; Pacientes vincunt &c;
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Thanne laughed Haukyn a litel, and lightly gan swerye,
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"Whoso leveth yow, by Oure Lord, I leve noght he be blessed!'
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"No?' quod Pacience paciently, and out of his poke hente
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Vitailles of grete vertues for alle manere beestes,
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And seide, " Lo! here liflode ynogh, if oure bileve be trewe.
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For lent nevere was lif but liflode were shapen,
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Wherof or wherfore or wherby to libbe.
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" First the wilde worm under weet erthe,
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Fissh to lyve in the flood, and in the fir the criket,
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The corlew by kynde of the eyr, moost clennest flessh of briddes,
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And bestes by gras and by greyn and by grene rootes,
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In menynge that alle men myghte the same
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Lyve thorugh leel bileve and love, as God witnesseth:
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Quodcumque pecieritis a patre in nomine meo &c; Et alibi, Non
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in solo pane vivit homo, set in omni verbo, quod procedit de ore Dei;'
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But I lokede what liflode it was that Pacience so preisede;
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And thanne was it a pece of the Paternoster-- Fiat voluntas tua.
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"Have, Haukyn,' quod Pacience, "and et this whan the hungreth,
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Or whan thow clomsest for cold or clyngest for droughte;
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And shul nevere gyves thee greve ne gret lordes wrathe,
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Aison ne peyne--for pacientes vincunt.
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By so that thow be sobre of sighte and of tonge,
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In [ond]ynge and in handlynge and in alle thi fyve wittes,
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Darstow nevere care for corn ne lynnen cloth ne wollen,
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Ne for drynke, ne deeth drede, but deye as God liketh,
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Or thorugh hunger or thorugh hete--at his wille be it.
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For if thow lyvest after his loore, the shorter lif the bettre:
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Si quis amat Christum mundum non diligit istum.
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"For thorugh his breeth beestes woxen and abrood yeden:
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Dixit et facta sunt, &c.
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Ergo thorugh his breeth mowen [bothe] men and beestes lyven,
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As Holy Writ witnesseth whan men seye hir graces:
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*Aperis tu manum tuam, et imples omne animal benediccione.
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"It is founden that fourty wynter folk lyvede withouten tulying,
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And out of the flynt sprong the flood that folk and beestes dronken;
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And in Elyes tyme hevene was yclosed,
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That no reyn ne roon--thus rede men in bokes,
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That manye wyntres men lyveden and no mete ne tulieden.
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"Sevene slepe, as seith the book, sevene hundred wynter,
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And lyveden withouten lifiode--and at the laste thei woken.
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And if men lyvede as mesure wolde, sholde nevere moore be defaute
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Amonges Cristene creatures, if Cristes wordes ben trewe.
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Ac unkyndenesse caristiam maketh amonges Cristen peple,
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And over-plentee maketh pryde amonges poore and riche;
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Ac mesure is so muche worth it may noght be to deere;
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For the meschief and the meschaunce amonges men of Sodome
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Weex thorugh plentee of payn and of pure sleuthe:
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Ociositas et habundancia panis peccatum turpissimum nutrivit.
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For thei mesured noght hemself of that thei ete and dronke,
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Diden dedly synne that the devel liked,
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Vengeaunce fil upon hem for hir vile synnes;
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[So] thei sonken into helle, the citees echone.
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" Forthi mesure we us wel and make oure feith oure sheltrom;
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And thorugh feith cometh contricion, conscience woot wel,
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Which dryveth awey dedly synne and dooth it to be venial.
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And though a man myghte noght speke, contricion myghte hym save,
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And brynge his soule to blisse, by so that feith bere witnesse
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That whiles he lyvede he bilevede in the loore of Holy Chirche.
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Ergo contricion, feith and conscience is kyndeliche Dowel,
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And surgiens for dedly synnes whan shrift of mouthe failleth.
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Ac shrift of mouth moore worthi is, if man be ynliche contrit,
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For shrift of mouthe sleeth synne be it never so dedly--
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Per confessionem to a preest peccata occiduntur--
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Ther contricion dooth but dryveth it doun into a venial synne,
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As David seith in the Sauter, et quorum tecta sunt peccata.
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Ac satisfaccion seketh out the roote, and bothe sleeth and voideth,
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And as it nevere [n]adde ybe, to noghte bryngeth dedly synne,
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That it nevere eft is sene ne soor, but semeth a wounde yheeled.'
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"Where wonyeth Charite?' quod Haukyn. "I wiste nevere in my lyve
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Man that with hym spak, as wide as I have passed.'
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"Ther parfit truthe and poore herte is, and pacience of tonge--
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There is Chante the chief, chaumbrere for God hymselve.'
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"Wheither paciente poverte,' quod Haukyn, "be moore plesaunt to Oure Dright
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Than richesse rightfulliche wonne and resonably despended?'
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" Ye--quis est ilie?' quod Pacience, " quik--laudabimus eum !
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Though men rede of richesse right to the worldes ende,
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I wiste nevere renk that riche was, that whan he rekene sholde,
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Whan he drogh to his deeth day, that he ne dredde hym soore,
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And that at the rekenyng in arrerage fel, rather than out of dette.
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Ther the poore dar plede, and preve by pure reson
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To have allowaunce of his lord; by the lawe he it cleymeth:
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Joye, that nevere joye hadde, of rightful jugge he asketh,
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And seith, ""Lo! briddes and beestes, that no blisse ne knoweth,
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And wilde wormes in wodes, thorugh wyntres thow hem grevest,
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And makest hem wel neigh meke and mylde fer defaute,
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And after thew sedet hem somer, that is hir soveyn joye,
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And blisse to alle that ben, bothe wilde and tame.'
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"Thanne may boggeris, as beestes, after boote waiten,
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That al hir lif han lyved in langour and in defaute.
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But God sente hem som tyme som manere joye
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Outher here or elliswhere, kynde wolde it nevere;
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For to wrotherhele was he wroght that nevere was joye shapen!
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"Aungeles that in helle now ben hadden joye som tyme,
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And Dives in deyntees lyvede and in douce vie;
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Right so reson sheweth that tho men that [riche were]
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And hir makes also lyvede hir lif in murthe.
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"Ac God is of a wonder wille, by that kynde wit sheweth,
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To yyve many men his mercymonye er he it have deserved.
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Right so fareth God by some riche: ruthe me it thynketh--
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For thei han hir hire heer, and hevene, as it were,
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And greet likynge to lyve withouten labour of bodye,
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And whan he dyeth, ben disalowed, as David seith in the Sauter:
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Dormierunt et nichil in venerunt; et alibi, Velud sompnum surgencium,
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Domine, in civitate tua, et ad nichilum rediges &c.
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Allas, that richesse shal reve and robbe mannes soule
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From the love of Oure Lord at his laste ende!
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" Hewen that han hir hire afore arn everemoore nedy;
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And selden deyeth he out of dette that dyneth er he deserve it
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And til he have doon his devoir and his dayes journee.
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For whan a werkman hath wroght, than may men se the sothe--
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What he were worthi for his werk, and what he hath deserved,
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And noght to fonge bifore, for drede of disalowyng.
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"So I seye by yow riche--it semeth noght that ye shulle
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Have hevene in youre here-beyng and hevene therafter,
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Right as a servaunt taketh his salarie bifore, and siththe wolde clayme moore,
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As he that noon hadde, and hath hire at the laste.
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It may noght be, ye riche men, or Mathew on God lyeth:
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De deliciis ad delicias aifficile est transire !
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"Ac if ye riche have ruthe, and rewarde wel the poore,
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And lyven as lawe techeth, doon leaute to hem alle,
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Crist of his curteisie shal conforte yow at the laste
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And rewarden alle double richesse that rewful hertes habbeth.
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And as an hyne that hadde his hire er he bigonne,
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And whan he hath doon his devoir wel, men dooth hym oother bountee--
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Yyveth hym a cote above his covenaunt--right so Crist yyveth hevene
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Bothe to riche and to noght riche that rewfulliche libbeth;
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And alle that doon hir devoir wel han double hire for hir travaille--
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Here forgifnesse of hir synnes, and hevene blisse after.
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"Ac it is but selde yseien, as by holy seintes bokes,
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That God rewarded double reste to any riche wye.
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For muche murthe is amonges riche, as in mete and clothyng,
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And muche murthe in May is amonges wilde beestes,
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And so forth while somer lasteth hir solace dureth.
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Ac beggeris aboute Midsomer bredlees thei soupe,
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And yet is wynter for hem worse, for weetshoed thei gauge,
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Afurst soore and afyngred, and foule yrebuked
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And arated of riche men, that ruthe is to here . . .
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Now, Lord, sende hem somer, and som maner joye,
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Hevene after hir hennes goyng, that here han swich defaute!
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For alle myghtestow have maad noon mener than oother,
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And yliche witty and wise, if thee wel hadde liked.
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And have ruthe on thise riche men that rewarde noght thi prisoners;
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Of the good that thow hem gyvest ingrati ben manye;
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Ac God, of thi goodnesse, gyve hem grace to amende.
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For may no derthe be hem deere, droghte ne weet,
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Ne neither hete ne hayll, have thei hir heele;
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Of that thei wilne and wolde wanteth hem noght here.
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"Ac poore peple, thi prisoners, Lord, in the put of meschief--
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Conforte tho creatures that muche care suffren
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Thorugh derthe, thorugh droghte, alle hir dayes here,
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Wo in wynter tymes for wantynge of clothes,
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And in somer tyme selde soupen to the fulle;
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Conforte thi carefulle, Crist, in thi riche--
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For how thow confortest alle creatures clerkes bereth witnesse:
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Convertimini ad mi et salvi eritis.
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"Thus in genere of gentries Jesu Crist seide
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To robberis and to reveris, to riche and to poore,
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To hores, to harlotes, to alle maner peple,
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Thou taughtest hem in the Trinite to taken bapteme
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And be clene thorugh that cristnyng of alle kynnes synne,
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And if us fille thorugh folie to falle in synne after,
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Confession and knowlichynge and cravynge thi mercy
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Shulde amenden us as manye sithes as man wolde desire.
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Ac if the pouke wolde plede herayein, and punysshe us in conscience,
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We sholde take the acquitaunce as quyk and to the queed shewen it--
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Pateat &c: Per passionem Domini--
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And putten of so the pouke, and preven us under borwe.
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Ac the parchemyn of this patente of poverte be moste,
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And of pure pacience and parfit bileve.
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Of pompe and of pride the parchemyn decourreth,
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And principalliche of alle peple; but thei be poore of herte.
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Ellis is al on ydel, al that evere we wr[ogh]ten--
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Paternostres and penaunce and pilgrimage to Rome,
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But oure spences and spendynge sprynge of a trewe welle;
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Ellis is al oure labour lost--lo, how men writeth
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ln fenestres at the freres!--if fals be the foundement.
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Forthi Cristene sholde be in commune riche, noon coveitous for hymselve.
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" For sevene synnes ther ben, that assaillen us evere;
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The fend folweth hem alle and fondeth hem to helpe,
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Ac with richesse tho ribaudes rathest men bigileth.
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For ther that richesse regneth, reverences folweth,
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And that is plesaunt to pride, in poore and in riche.
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And the riche is reverenced by reson of his richesse
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Ther the poore is put bihynde, and paraventure kan moore
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Of wit and of wisdom, that fer awey is bettre
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Than richesse or reautee, and rather yherd in hevene.
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For the riche hath muche to rekene, and right softe walketh;
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The heighe wey to heveneward ofte richesse letteth--
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Ita inpossibile diviti &c--
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Ther the poore preesseth bifore, with a pak at his rugge--
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Opera enim iilorum sequuntur illos--
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Batauntliche, as beggeris doon, and boldeliche he craveth
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For his poverte and his pacience a perpetuel blisse:
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Beati pauperes: quoniam ipsorum est regnum celorum.
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"And pride in richesse regneth rather than in poverte:
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Or in the maister or in the man som mansion he haveth.
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Ac in poverte ther pacience is, Pride hath no mygte,
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Ne none of the sevene synnes sitten ne mowe ther longe,
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Ne have power in poverte, if pacience it folwe.
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For the poore is ay prest to plese the riche,
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And buxom at his biddyng for his broke loves;
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And buxomnesse and boost ben everemoore at werre,
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And either hateth oother in alle maner werkes.
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If Wrathe wrastle with the poore he hath the worse ende,
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For if thei bothe pleyne, the poore is but feble,
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And if he chide or chatre, hym cheveth the worse,
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For lowliche he loketh and lovelich is his speche
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That mete or money of othere men moot asken.
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"And if Glotonie greve poverte, he gadereth the lasse.
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For his rentes wol naught reche no riche metes to bigge;
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And though his glotonye be to good ale, he goth to cold beddyng,
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And his heved unheled, unesiliche ywrye--
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For whan he streyneth hym to strecche, the strawe is his shetes.
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So for his Glotome and his greete Sleuthe he hath a grevous penaunce,
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That is welawo whan he waketh and wepeth for colde--
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And som tyme for his synnes--so he is nevere murie
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Withoute mournynge amonge and meschief to bote.
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"And though Coveitise wolde cacche the poore, thei may noght come togideres
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And by the nekke, namely, hir noon may hente oother.
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For men knowen wel that Coveitise is of a kene wille,
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And hath hondes and armes of a long lengthe,
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And Poverte nys but a petit thyng, apereth noght to his navele--
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And lovely layk was it nevere bitwene the longe and the shorte.
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And though Avarice wolde angre the poore, he hath but litel myghte,
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Fer Poverte hath but pokes to putten in hise goodes,
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Ther Avarice hath almaries and yren-bounden cofres.
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And wheither be lighter to breke? Lasse boost it maketh--
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A beggeris baggethan an yren-bounde cofre !
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" Lecherie loveth hym noght, for he yyveth but litel silver,
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Ne dooth hym noght dyne delicatly ne drynke wyn ofte.
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A straw for the stuwes! lt stoode noght, I trowe,
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Hadde thei noon [haunt] but of poore men--hir houses stoode untyled!
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"And though Sleuthe suwe Poverte, and serve noght God to paie,
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Meschief is his maister, and maketh hym to thynke
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That God is his grettest help and no gorne ellis,
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And he his servaunt, as he seith, and of his sute bothe.
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And wheither he be or be noght, he bereth the signe of poverte,
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And in that secte Oure Saveour saved al mankynde.
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Forthi al poore that pacient is, may [asken and cleymen],
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After hir endynge here, heveneriche blisse.
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"Muche hardier may he asken, that here myghte have his wille
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In lond and in lordshipe and likynge of bodie,
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And for Goddes love leveth al and lyveth as a beggere.
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And as a mayde for mannes love hire moder forsaketh,
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Hir fader and alle hire frendes, and folweth hir make--
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Muche is that maide to love of [a man] that swich oon taketh,
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Moore than a maiden is that is maried thorugh brocage,
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As by assent of sondry parties and silver to boote,
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Moore for coveitise of good than kynde love of bothe--
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So it fareth by ech a persone that possession forsaketh
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And put hym to be pacient, and poverte weddeth,
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The which is sib to God hymself, and so neigh is poverte.'
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"Have God-my trouthe,' quod Haukyn, "l here ye preise faste poverte.
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What is poverte, Pacience,' quod he, "proprely to mene?'
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" Paupertas.' quod Pacience, " est odibile bonum--
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Remocio curarum, possessio sine calumpnia, donum Dei,
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sanitatis mater, absque sollicitudine semita, sapiencie
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temperatrix, negocium sine dampno, incerta fortuna,
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absque sollicitudine felicitas.'
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"I kan noght construe al this,' quod Haukyn, "ye moste kenne me this on Englis
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" In Englissh,' quod Pacience, "it is wel hard, wel to expounen,
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Ac somdeel I shal seyen it, by so thow understonde.
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Poverte is the firste point that Pride moost hateth;
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Thanne is it good by good skile--al that agasteth pride.
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Right as contricion is confortable thyng, conseience woot wel,
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And a sorwe of hymself, and a solace to the soule,
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So poverte propreliche penaunce [is to the body
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And joye also to the soule], pure spiritual helthe,
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And contricion confort, and cura animarum:
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Ergo paupertas est odibile bonum.
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"Selde sit poverte the sothe to declare,
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Or as justice to jugge men enjoyned is no poore,
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Ne to be mair above men, ne mynystre under kynges;
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Selde is any poore yput to punysshen any peple;
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Remocio curarum.
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Ergo poverte and poore men parfournen the comaundement--
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Nolite iudicare quemquam.
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"Selde is poore right riche but of rightful heritage:
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Wynneth he noght with wightes false ne with unseled mesures,
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Ne borweth of hise neighebores but that he may wel paie:
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Possessio sine calumpnia.
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"The ferthe is afor-tune that florissheth the soule
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With sobretee fram alle synne and also yit moore;
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It afaiteth the flessh fram folies ful manye--
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A collateral confort, Cristes owene yifte:
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Donum Dei.
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"The fifte is moder of [myght and of mannes] hele,
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A frend in alle fondynges, [of foule yveles leche],
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And for the lewde evere yliche a lemman of alle clennesse:
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Sanitatis mater.
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"The sixte is a path of pees--ye, thorugh the paas of Aulton
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Poverte myghte passe withouten peril of robbyng!
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For ther that Poverte passeth pees folweth after,
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And ever the lasse that he [led]eth, the [light]er he is of herte--
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Cantabit paupertas coram latrone viator--
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And an hardy man of herte among an heep of theves;
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Forthi seith Seneca Paupertas est absque sollicitudine semita.
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"The seventhe is welle of wisedorn and fewe wordes sheweth,
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For lordes alloweth hym litel or listneth to his reson.
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He tempreth the tonge to trutheward, that no tresor coveiteth:
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Sapiencie temperatrix.
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"The eightethe is a lele labour and looth to take moore
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Than he may [sothly] deserve, in somer or in wynter,
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And if he chaffareth, he chargeth no losse mowe he charite wynne:
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Negocium sine dampno.
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"The nynthe is swete to the soule, no sugre is swetter;
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For pacience is payn for poverte hymselve,
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And sobretee swete drynke and good leche in siknesse.
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Thus lered me a lered man for Oure Lordes love, Seint Austyn--
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A blessed lif withouten bisynesse for body and for soule:
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Absque sollicitudine feiicitas.
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Now God, that alle good gyveth, graunte his soule reste
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That thus first wroot to wissen men what Poverte was to mene!'
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"Allas,' quod Haukyn the Actif Man tho, "that after my cristendom
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I ne hadde be deed and dolven for Dowelis sake!
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So hard it is,' quod Haukyn, "to lyve and to do synne.
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Synne seweth us evere,' quod he, and sory gan wexe,
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And wepte water with hise eighen and weyled the tyme
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That evere he dide dede that deere God displesed--
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Swouned and sobbed and siked ful ofte
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That evere he hadde lond or lordshipe, lasse other moore,
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Or maistrie over any man mo than of hymselve..
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" I were noght worthi, woot God,' quod Haukyn, " to werien any clothes,
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Ne neither sherte ne shoon, save for shame one
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To covere my careyne', quod he, and cride mercy faste,
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And wepte and wailede--and therwith I awakede.
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