Another huge companye Of gode folk, and gunne crye, 'Lady, graunte us now good fame, And lat our werkes han that name (520) 1610 Now, in honour of gentilesse, And also god your soule blesse! For we han wel deserved hit, Therfor is right that we ben quit.' 'As thryve I,' quod she, 'ye shal faile, 1615 Good werkes shal yow noght availe To have of me good fame as now. But wite ye what? I graunte yow, That ye shal have a shrewed fame And wikked loos, and worse name, (530) 1620 Though ye good loos have wel deserved. Now go your wey, for ye be served; And thou, dan Eolus, let see! Tak forth thy trumpe anon,' quod she, 'That is y-cleped Sclaunder light, 1625 And blow hir loos, that every wight Speke of hem harm and shrewednesse, In stede of good and worthinesse. For thou shalt trumpe al the contraire Of that they han don wel or faire.' (540) 1630 'Alas,' thoughte I, 'what aventures Han these sory creatures! For they, amonges al the pres, Shul thus be shamed gilteles! But what! hit moste nedes be.' 1635 What did this Eolus, but he Tok out his blakke trumpe of bras, That fouler than the devil was, And gan this trumpe for to blowe, As al the world shulde overthrowe; (550) 1640 That through-out every regioun Wente this foule trumpes soun, As swift as pelet out of gonne, Whan fyr is in the poudre ronne. And swiche a smoke gan out-wende 1645 Out of his foule trumpes ende, Blak, blo, grenish, swartish reed, As doth wher that men melte leed, Lo, al on high fro the tuel! And therto oo thing saugh I wel, (560) 1650 That, the ferther that hit ran, The gretter wexen hit began, As doth the river from a welle, And hit stank as the pit of helle. Alas, thus was hir shame y-ronge, 1655 And giltelees, on every tonge. Tho com the thridde companye, And gunne up to the dees to hye, And doun on knees they fille anon, And seyde, 'We ben everichon (570) 1660 Folk that han ful trewely Deserved fame rightfully, And praye yow, hit mot be knowe, Right as hit is, and forth y-blowe.' 'I graunte,' quod she, 'for me list 1665 That now your gode werk be wist; And yit ye shul han better loos, Right in dispyt of alle your foos, Than worthy is; and that anoon: Lat now,' quod she, 'thy trumpe goon, (580) 1670 Thou Eolus, that is so blak; And out thyn other trumpe tak That highte Laude, and blow hit so That through the world hir fame go Al esely, and not to faste, 1675 That hit be knowen atte laste.'