My mayster Chaucer, god his soulë have! 65 That in his langage was so curious, He sayde, the fader whiche is deed and grave, Biquath nothing his vertue with his hous Unto his sone; therfore laborious Ought ye to be, beseching god, of grace, 70 To yeve you might for to be vertuous, Through which ye might have part of his fayr place. Here may ye see that vertuous noblesse Cometh not to you by way of auncestrye, But it cometh thorugh leefful besinesse 75 Of honest lyfe, and not by slogardrye. Wherfore in youthe I rede you edefye The hous of vertue in so wys manere That in your age it may you kepe and gye Fro the tempest of worldly wawes here. 80 Thinketh how, betwixë vertue and estat There is a parfit blessed mariage; Vertue is cause of pees, vyce of debat In mannes soule; for which, with ful corage, Cherissheth vertue, vyces to outrage: 85 Dryveth hem away; let hem have no wonning In your soules; leseth not the heritage Which god hath yeve to vertuous living. Taketh hede also, how men of povre degree Through vertue have be set in greet honour, 90 And ever have lived in greet prosperitee Through cherisshing of vertuous labour. Thinketh also, how many a governour Called to estat, hath oft be set ful lowe Through misusing of right, and for errour, 95 Therfore I counsaile you, vertue to knowe. Thus 'by your eldres may ye nothing clayme,' As that my mayster Chaucer sayth expresse, 'But temporel thing, that man may hurte and mayme'; Than is god stocke of vertuous noblesse; 100 And sith that he is lord of blessednesse, And made us alle, and for us alle deyde, Folowe his vertue with ful besinesse, And of this thing herke how my mayster seyde:-- _The firste stok, fader of gentilesse,_ 105 _What man that claymeth gentil for to be_ _Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse_ _Vertu to sewe, and vyces for to flee._ _For unto vertu longeth dignitee,_ _And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,_ 110 _Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe._ _This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,_ _Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,_ _Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse_ _Ageinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;_ 115 _And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he,_ _He is noght gentil, though he riche seme,_ _Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe._ _Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse;_ _But ther may no man, as men may wel see,_ 120 _Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse;_ _That is appropred unto no degree,_ _But to the firste fader in magestee_ _That maketh him his heir, that can him queme,_ _Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe._ 125