"Peter," quod the preest thoo, "I kan no pardon fynde, But do wel and have wel, And God shal have thi soule, And do yvel and have yvel, Hope thow noon oother, But after thi deeth-day The devel shal have thi soule." And Piers for pure tene Pulled it a-tweyne, 4720 And seide _Si ambulavero in medio umbræ mortis, non timebo mala, quoniam tu mecum es._
"I shal cessen of my sowyng," quod Piers, = { 146} "And swynke noght so harde, Ne aboute my bely joye So bisy be na-moore; Of preieres and of penaunce My plough shal ben herafter, 4730 And wepen whan I sholde slepe, Though whete-breed me faille.
"The prophete his payn eet In penaunce and in sorwe, By that the Sauter seith, So dide othere manye; That loveth God lelly, His liflode is ful esy. _Fuerunt mihi lacrimæ meæ panes die ac nocte._ 4740
"And but if Luc lye, He lereth us by foweles, We sholde noght be to bisy Aboute the worldes blisse; _Ne soliciti sitis_, He seith in the Gospel, And sheweth us by ensamples Us selve to wisse. The foweles in the feld, Who fynt hem mete at wynter? 4750 Have thei no gerner to go to, But God fynt hem alle."
"What!" quod the preest to Perkyn, "Peter! as me thynketh, Thow art lettred a litel:-- Who lerned thee on boke?"
"Abstynence the abbesse," quod Piers, "Myn a.b.c. me taughte; And Conscience cam afterward, And kenned me muche moore." 4760 { 147}
"Were thow a preest," quod he, "Thou myghtest preche where thou sholdest, As divinour in divinité, With _Dixit insipiens_ to thi teme."
"Lewed lorel!" quod Piers, "Litel lokestow on the Bible; On Salomons sawes Selden thow biholdest: _Ejice derisores et jurgia cum eis, ne crescant, etc._" 4770
The preest and Perkyn Opposeden either oother. And I thorugh hir wordes a-wook, And waited aboute, And seigh the sonne in the south Sitte that tyme, Mete-lees and monei-lees On Malverne hulles, Musynge on this metels, And my wey ich yede. 4780
Many tyme this metels Hath maked me to studie Of that I seigh slepynge, If it so be myghte, And also for Piers the Plowman Ful pencif in herte, And which a pardon Piers hadde Al the peple to conforte, And how the preest impugned it With two propre wordes. 4790 Ac I have no savour in songewarie, For I se it ofte faille; Caton and canonistres Counseillen us to leve { 148} To sette sadnesse in songewarie, For _sompnia ne cures_.