And seith that mete and cloth sufficeth. 320 Thus hath this king experience Hou foles don the reverence To gold, which of his oghne kinde Is lasse worth than is the rinde To sustienance of mannes fode; And thanne he made lawes goode And al his thing sette upon skile: He bad his poeple forto tile Here lond, and live under the lawe, And that thei scholde also forthdrawe 330 Bestaile, and seche non encress Of gold, which is the breche of pes. For this a man mai finde write, Tofor the time, er gold was smite In Coign, that men the florin knewe, Ther was welnyh noman untrewe; Tho was ther nouther schield ne spere Ne dedly wepne forto bere; Tho was the toun withoute wal, Which nou is closed overal; 340 Tho was ther no brocage in londe, Which nou takth every cause on honde: So mai men knowe, hou the florin Was moder ferst of malengin And bringere inne of alle werre, Wherof this world stant out of herre Thurgh the conseil of Avarice, Which of his oghne propre vice Is as the helle wonderfull; For it mai neveremor be full, 350 That what as evere comth therinne, Awey ne may it nevere winne. Bot Sone myn, do thou noght so, Let al such Avarice go, And tak thi part of that thou hast: I bidde noght that thou do wast, Bot hold largesce in his mesure; And if thou se a creature, Which thurgh poverte is falle in nede, Yif him som good, for this I rede 360 To him that wol noght yiven here, What peine he schal have elleswhere. Ther is a peine amonges alle Benethe in helle, which men calle The wofull peine of Tantaly, Of which I schal thee redely Devise hou men therinne stonde. In helle, thou schalt understonde, Ther is a flod of thilke office, Which serveth al for Avarice: 370 What man that stonde schal therinne, He stant up evene unto the chinne; Above his hed also ther hongeth A fruyt, which to that peine longeth, And that fruit toucheth evere in on His overlippe: and therupon Swich thurst and hunger him assaileth, That nevere his appetit ne faileth. Bot whanne he wolde his hunger fede, The fruit withdrawth him ate nede, 380 And thogh he heve his hed on hyh, The fruit is evere aliche nyh, So is the hunger wel the more: And also, thogh him thurste sore And to the water bowe a doun, The flod in such condicioun Avaleth, that his drinke areche He mai noght. Lo nou, which a wreche, That mete and drinke is him so couth, And yit ther comth non in his mouth! 390 Lich to the peines of this flod Stant Avarice in worldes good: He hath ynowh and yit him nedeth, For his skarsnesse it him forbiedeth, And evere his hunger after more Travaileth him aliche sore, So is he peined overal. Forthi thi goodes forth withal, Mi Sone, loke thou despende, Wherof thou myht thiself amende 400 Bothe hier and ek in other place. And also if thou wolt pourchace To be beloved, thou most use Largesce, for if thou refuse To yive for thi loves sake, It is no reson that thou take Of love that thou woldest crave. Forthi, if thou wolt grace have, Be gracious and do largesse,