Suche harlottes shull men disclaunder For they shullen make hir gree, And ben as proude as Alexaunder, 335 And sayn to the pore, "wo be ye!" By yere ech preest shall paye his fee To encrese his lemmans call; Suche herdes shull well yvell thee, And all such falsë shull foul fall! 340 And if a man be falsly famed, And woldë make purgacioun, Than woll the officers be agramed, And assigne him fro town to town; So nede he must[e] paye raunsoun 345 Though he be clene as is cristall, And than have an absolutioun; But all such falsë shull foul fall! Though he be gilty of the dede, And that he [yet] may money pay, 350 All the whyle his purse woll blede He may use it fro day to day! These bishoppes officers goon full gay, And this game they usen over-all; The pore to pill is all +hir pray; 355 All such falsë shull foul fall! Alas! god ordayned never such lawe, Ne no such craft of covetyse; He forbad it, by his sawe, Such governours mowen of god agryse; 360 For all his rules +ben rightwyse. These newe poyntes ben pure papall, And goddes lawë they dispyse; And all such faytours shul foul fall! They sayn that Peter had the key 365 Of hevin and hell, to have and hold; I trowe Peter took no money For no sinnes that he sold! Such successours ben to bold, In winning all their wit they wrall; 370 Hir conscience is waxen cold; And all such faytours, foule hem fall! Peter was never so great a fole To leve his key with such a lorell, Or to take such cursed such a tole 375 He was advysed nothing well. I trowe, they have the key of hell; +Hir maister is of that place marshall; For there they dressen hem to dwell, And with fals Lucifer there to fall. 380 They ben as proude as Lucifer, As angry, and as envious; From good fayth they ben full fer, In covetyse they ben curious; To catche catell as covytous 385 As hound, that for hunger woll yall; Ungoodly, and ungracious; And nedely, such falshed shal foul fall! The pope, and he were Peters heyr, Me think, he erreth in this cas, 390 Whan choyse of bishoppes is in dispeyr, To chosen hem in dyvers place; A lord shall write to him for grace, For his clerke +pray anon he shall; So shall he spede[n] his purchas; 395 And all such falsë, foule hem fall! Though he +conne no more good, A lordes prayer shal be sped; Though he be wild of will or wood, Nat understanding what men han red, 400 A boster, and (that god forbede!) As good a bishop +as my hors Ball, Suche a pope is foule be-sted, And at [the] lastë woll foul fall!