Under the viser of Envie, Lo, thus was hid the tricherie, Which hath beguiled manyon. Bot such conseil ther mai be non, With treson whan it is conspired, That it nys lich the Sparke fyred Up in the Rof, which for a throwe Lith hidd, til whan the wyndes blowe It blaseth out on every side. This Bonefas, which can noght hyde 2950 The tricherie of his Supplant, Hath openly mad his avant How he the Papacie hath wonne. Bot thing which is with wrong begonne Mai nevere stonde wel at ende; Wher Pride schal the bowe bende, He schet fulofte out of the weie: And thus the Pope of whom I seie, Whan that he stod on hih the whiel, He can noght soffre himself be wel. 2960 Envie, which is loveles, And Pride, which is laweles, With such tempeste made him erre, That charite goth out of herre: So that upon misgovernance Ayein Lowyz the king of France He tok querelle of his oultrage, And seide he scholde don hommage Unto the cherche bodily. Bot he, that wiste nothing why 2970 He scholde do so gret servise After the world in such a wise, Withstod the wrong of that demande; For noght the Pope mai comande The king wol noght the Pope obeie. This Pope tho be alle weie That he mai worche of violence Hath sent the bulle of his sentence With cursinge and with enterdit. The king upon this wrongful plyt, 2980 To kepe his regne fro servage, Conseiled was of his Barnage That miht with miht schal be withstonde. Thus was the cause take on honde, And seiden that the Papacie Thei wolde honoure and magnefie In al that evere is spirital; Bot thilke Pride temporal Of Boneface in his persone, Ayein that ilke wrong al one 2990 Thei wolde stonden in debat: And thus the man and noght the stat The Frensche schopen be her miht To grieve. And fell ther was a kniht, Sire Guilliam de Langharet, Which was upon this cause set; And therupon he tok a route Of men of Armes and rod oute, So longe and in a wayt he lay, That he aspide upon a day 3000 The Pope was at Avinoun, And scholde ryde out of the toun Unto Pontsorge, the which is A Castell in Provence of his. Upon the weie and as he rod, This kniht, which hoved and abod Embuisshed upon horse bak, Al sodeinliche upon him brak And hath him be the bridel sesed, And seide: “O thou, which hast desesed 3010 The Court of France be thi wrong, Now schalt thou singe an other song: Thin enterdit and thi sentence Ayein thin oghne conscience Hierafter thou schalt fiele and grope. We pleigne noght ayein the Pope, For thilke name is honourable, Bot thou, which hast be deceivable And tricherous in al thi werk, Thou Bonefas, thou proude clerk, 3020 Misledere of the Papacie, Thi false bodi schal abye And soffre that it hath deserved.”