Than seide I to myself, "Here is no bote; Here pride is the pater-noster In preying of synne; 670 { 471} Her Crede is coveytise:-- Now can I no ferthere. Yet wil I fonden forth, And fraynen the Carmes." Than toted I into a taverne, And there I aspyede Two frere Carmes With a ful coppe. There I auntrede me in, And aisliche I seyde, 680 "Leve sire, for the Lordes love That thou on levest! Lere me to som man My Crede for to lerne, That lyveth in lel liif, And loveth no synne, And gloseth nought the godspel, But halt Godes hetes, And neyther money ne mede Ne may hym nought letten, 690 But werchen after Godes word, Withouten any faile. A Prechoure y-professed Hath plight me his trewthe To techen me trewely; But wouldest thou me tellen, For they ben certeyne men, And syker on to trosten, I would quiten the thy mede As my myght were." 700
"A trefle," quath he, "trewely! His treweth is ful litel; He dynede nought with Dominic, Sithe Christ deide. { 472} For with the prynces of pryde The Prechours dwellen; They ben so digne as the devel That droppeth fro heven, With hartes of heynesse, Whough halwen the cherches, 710 And deleth in devynyté As dogges doth bones. Thei medeleth with mesages And mariages of grete; Thei leeven with lordes With lesynges y-nowe; Thei biggeth hem bichopriches With bagges of gold; Thei wilneth worchipes:-- But waite on her dedes. 720 Harkne at Herdforthe How that they werchen, And loke when that they lyven And leeve as thou fyndest. They ben counseylours of kynges, Christ wot the sothe, Whou thei curreth kynges And her bak claweth. God leve hem laden wel In lyvynge of hevene, 730 And glose hem nought for her good To greven her soules. I pray the, where ben they pryvé With any pore whightes That may nought amenden her hous, Ne amenden hemselven? They prechen in proud herte, And preyseth her ordre, { 473} And werdlich worchype Wilneth in erthe. 740 Leeve it wel, lef man, And men right lokede, There is more pryvé pryde In Prechoures hertes, Than there lefte in Lucifere, Or he were lowe fallen. They bene dygne as dich-watere, That dogges in bayteth. Lok a ribaut of hem That can nought wel reden 750 His Rewel ne his Respondes, But be pure rote; Als as he were a connyng clerk, He casteth the lawes Nought lowly, but lordly, And lesynges lyeth. For right as Minoures Most hypocrice useth, Ryght so ben Prechoures proude Purlyche in herte. 760