IX.
¶ Þen poule wept and sayd, in good soþnes,
"Wo is him to þese payns ben ordent."
Þen he se a plase of gret darknes,
In þe wyche men and wemen wern in gret turment,
Þat etyn here tongis hereto rent.
Line 109
Þen þe angel sayd to poule treuly—
"Þese were makers of moné with cursid entent,
With wrong mokerers false mesurs and vsere,
Line 112
Þer-fore wo þai etin here tung,
Fore þai foreswere ham wettanly,
On cristis passion haue no peté
To part with þe pore þat were nede,
Line 116
Bot holdun hit fast þai geten with wrong."
X.
¶ Þen after poule a plase he se,
In þe wyche were moné damselse blake,
I-cloþid in blak al cresly, [? grisly]
Line 120
In pych and brymston, fuyre and smoke;
Aboute here nekis were nedirs and snake,
Fore wickid angelus repreuyd hem þer,
With horns of fyre here heedus to schake,
Line 124
And went about hom with hedus bere,
And saydon to hom with carful cry,
"Cnow ȝe now þe sun of god,
Þat aȝayn boȝt þe word
Line 128
Þat ȝe han greuyd in dede and word,
And slayn his creatours, ȝour childer distrye?"
XI.
¶ Þen poule he askid "what ben þese."
Þe angel onswerd without tareyng,
Line 132
"Hyle [? Holé] god þese con displese,
