And thus betwen tomoche and lyte Largesce, which is noght to wyte, 7690 Halt evere forth the middel weie: Bot who that torne wole aweie Fro that to Prodegalite, Anon he lest the proprete Of vertu and goth to the vice; For in such wise as Avarice Lest for scarsnesse his goode name, Riht so that other is to blame, Which thurgh his wast mesure excedeth, For noman wot what harm that bredeth. 7700 Bot mochel joie ther betydeth, Wher that largesse an herte guydeth: For his mesure is so governed, That he to bothe partz is lerned, To god and to the world also, He doth reson to bothe tuo. The povere folk of his almesse Relieved ben in the destresse Of thurst, of hunger and of cold; The yifte of him was nevere sold, 7710 Bot frely yive, and natheles The myhti god of his encress Rewardeth him of double grace; The hevene he doth him to pourchace And yifth him ek the worldes good: And thus the Cote for the hod Largesse takth, and yit no Sinne He doth, hou so that evere he winne. What man hath hors men yive him hors, And who non hath of him no fors, 7720 For he mai thanne on fote go; The world hath evere stonde so. Bot forto loken of the tweie, A man to go the siker weie, Betre is to yive than to take: With yifte a man mai frendes make, Bot who that takth or gret or smal, He takth a charge forth withal, And stant noght fre til it be quit. So forto deme in mannes wit, 7730 It helpeth more a man to have His oghne good, than forto crave Of othre men and make him bounde, Wher elles he mai stonde unbounde. Senec conseileth in this wise, And seith, “Bot, if thi good suffise Unto the liking of thi wille, Withdrawh thi lust and hold the stille, And be to thi good sufficant.” For that thing is appourtenant 7740 To trouthe and causeth to be fre After the reule of charite, Which ferst beginneth of himselve. For if thou richest othre tuelve, Wherof thou schalt thiself be povere, I not what thonk thou miht recovere. Whil that a man hath good to yive, With grete routes he mai live And hath his frendes overal, And everich of him telle schal. 7750 Therwhile he hath his fulle packe, Thei seie, “A good felawe is Jacke”; Bot whanne it faileth ate laste, Anon his pris thei overcaste, For thanne is ther non other lawe Bot, “Jacke was a good felawe.” Whan thei him povere and nedy se, Thei lete him passe and farwel he; Al that he wende of compainie Is thanne torned to folie. 7760