Conscience of his curteisie To Kynde he bi-soughte To cesse and suffre, And see wher thei wolde Leve Pride pryvely, 14140 And be parfite cristene.
And Kynde cessede tho To se the peple amende. Fortune gan flatere thanne Tho fewe that were alyve, And bi-highte hem long lif, And Lecherie he sente Amonges alle manere men, Wedded and unwedded, And gaderede a greet hoost 14150 Al agayn Conscience. { 432}
This Lecherie leide on With a janglynge chiere, And with pryvee speche And peyntede wordes; And armede hym in ydelnesse, And in heigh berynge. He bar a bowe in his hand, And manye brode arewes, Weren fethered with fair bi-heste 14160 And many a fals truthe. With hise un-tidy tales He tened ful ofte. Conscience and his compaignye, Of holy chirche the techeris.
Thanne cam Coveitise, And caste how he myghte Overcome Conscience And cardinale vertues, And armed hym in avarice, 14170 And hungriliche lyvede. His wepne was al wiles To wynnen and to hiden; With glosynges and with gabbynges He giled the peple.
Symonye hym sente To assaille Conscience, And preched to the peple; And prelates thei hem maden To holden with Antecrist, 14180 His temporaltees to save; And cam to the kynges counseille As a kene baroun, And kneled to Conscience In court afore hem alle, { 433} And garte good feith flee, And fals to abide; And boldeliche bar a-doun, With many a bright noble, Muche of the wit and wisdom 14190 Of Westmynstre Halle. He jogged to a justice, And justed in his eere, And over-tilte al his truthe With "Tak this up amendement."
And to the Arches in haste He yede anoon after, And tornede cyvyle into symonye, And siththe he took the official For a mantel of menever, 14200 And made lele matrymoyne Departen er deeth cam, And devors shapte.
"Allas!" quod Conscience, and cryde tho, "Wolde Crist of his grace That coveitise were cristene! That is so kene a fightere, And boold and bidynge While his bagge lasteth."
And thanne lough Lyf, 14210 And leet daggen hise clothes, And armed hym an haste With harlotes wordes; And heeld holynesse a jape, And hendenesse a wastour; And leet leautee a cherl, And lyere a fre man; Conscience and his counseil He counted at a flye { 434} Thus relyede Lif, 14220 For a litel fortune; And priketh forth with Pride, Preiseth he no vertue, Ne careth noght how Kynde slow, And shal come at the laste, And kille alle erthely creatures, Save Conscience oone. Lyf lepte aside, And laughte hym a lemman; "Heele and I," quod he, 14230 "And heighnesse of herte, Shal do thee noght drede Neither deeth ne elde, And to forgyte sorwe, And gyve noght of synne."