<< And it was cleped POPE-HOLY. 415 That ilke is she that prively Ne spareth never a wikked dede, Whan men of hir taken non hede; And maketh hir outward precious, With pale visage and pitous, 420 And semeth a simple creature; But ther nis no misaventure That she ne thenketh in hir corage. Ful lyk to hir was that image, That maked was lyk hir semblaunce. 425 She was ful simple of countenaunce, And she was clothed and eek shod, As she were, for the love of god, Yolden to religioun, Swich semed hir devocioun. 430 A sauter held she faste in honde, And bisily she gan to fonde To make many a feynt prayere To god, and to his seyntes dere. Ne she was gay, fresh, ne Iolyf, 435 But semed be ful ententyf To gode werkes, and to faire, And therto she had on an haire. Ne certes, she was fat no-thing, >> PAPELARDIE ert apelée. C'est cele qui en recelée, 410 Quant nus ne s'en puet prendre garde, De nul mal faire ne se tarde. El fait dehors le marmiteus, Si a le vis simple et piteus, Et semble sainte créature; Mais sous ciel n'a male aventure Qu'ele ne pense en son corage. Moult la ressembloit bien l'ymage Qui faite fu à sa semblance, Qu'el fu de simple contenance; 420 Et si fu chaucie et vestue Tout ainsinc cum fame rendue. En sa main ung sautier tenoit, Et sachiés que moult se penoit De faire à Dieu prieres faintes, Et d'appeler et sains et saintes. El ne fu gaie, ne jolive, Ains fu par semblant ententive Du tout à bonnes ovres faire; Et si avoit vestu la haire. 430 Et sachiés que n'iere pas grasse, << But semed wery for fasting; 440 Of colour pale and deed was she. From hir the gate [shal] werned be Of paradys, that blisful place; For swich folk maketh lene hir face, As Crist seith in his evangyle, 445 To gete hem prys in toun a whyle; And for a litel glorie veine They lesen god and eek his reine. And alderlast of everichoon, POVERT. Was peynted POVERT al aloon, 450 That not a peny hadde in wolde, Al-though [that] she hir clothes solde, And though she shulde anhonged be; For naked as a worm was she. And if the weder stormy were, 455 For colde she shulde have deyed there. She nadde on but a streit old sak, And many a clout on it ther stak; This was hir cote and hir mantel, No more was there, never a del, 460 To clothe her with; I undertake, Gret leyser hadde she to quake.