Forthi, mi Sone, I wolde rede, Be this ensample as thou myht rede, Sech elles, wher thou wolt, thi grace, And war the wel in holi place What thou to love do or speke, In aunter if it so be wreke As thou hast herd me told before. And tak good hiede also therfore 7610 Upon what forme, of Avarice Mor than of eny other vice, I have divided in parties The branches, whiche of compainies Thurghout the world in general Ben nou the leders overal, Of Covoitise and of Perjure, Of fals brocage and of Usure, Of Skarsnesse and Unkindeschipe, Which nevere drouh to felaschipe, 7620 Of Robberie and privi Stelthe, Which don is for the worldes welthe, Of Ravine and of Sacrilegge, Which makth the conscience agregge; Althogh it mai richesse atteigne, It floureth, bot it schal noght greine Unto the fruit of rihtwisnesse. Bot who that wolde do largesse Upon the reule as it is yive, So myhte a man in trouthe live 7630 Toward his god, and ek also Toward the world, for bothe tuo Largesse awaiteth as belongeth, To neither part that he ne wrongeth; He kepth himself, he kepth his frendes, So stant he sauf to bothe hise endes, That he excedeth no mesure, So wel he can himself mesure: Wherof, mi Sone, thou schalt wite, So as the Philosophre hath write. 7640 Betwen the tuo extremites Of vice stant the propretes Of vertu, and to prove it so Tak Avarice and tak also The vice of Prodegalite; Betwen hem Liberalite, Which is the vertu of Largesse, Stant and governeth his noblesse. For tho tuo vices in discord Stonde evere, as I finde of record; 7650 So that betwen here tuo debat Largesse reuleth his astat. For in such wise as Avarice, As I tofore have told the vice, Thurgh streit holdinge and thurgh skarsnesse Stant in contraire to Largesse, Riht so stant Prodegalite Revers, bot noght in such degre. For so as Avarice spareth, And forto kepe his tresor careth, 7660 That other al his oghne and more Ayein the wise mannes lore Yifth and despendeth hiere and there, So that him reccheth nevere where. While he mai borwe, he wol despende, Til ate laste he seith, “I wende”; Bot that is spoken al to late, For thanne is poverte ate gate And takth him evene be the slieve, For erst wol he no wisdom lieve. 7670 And riht as Avarice is Sinne, That wolde his tresor kepe and winne, Riht so is Prodegalite: Bot of Largesse in his degre, Which evene stant betwen the tuo, The hihe god and man also The vertu ech of hem commendeth. For he himselven ferst amendeth, That overal his name spredeth, And to alle othre, where it nedeth, 7680 He yifth his good in such a wise, That he makth many a man arise, Which elles scholde falle lowe. Largesce mai noght ben unknowe; For what lond that he regneth inne, It mai noght faile forto winne Thurgh his decerte love and grace, Wher it schal faile in other place.