His sone hiȝte 'Suffre-þi-souereynes- to-hauen-her-wille-, Deme-hem-nouȝte-, for-, if-þow-doste-, þow-shalt-it-dere-abugge.') 75 'Late God yworth with al, for so His worde techeth; For now I am olde and hore, and haue of myn owen, To penaunce and to pilgrimage I wil passe with þise other. Forþi I wil, or I wende, do wryte my biqueste. _In Dei nomine, amen_, I make it myseluen. 80 He shal haue my soule þat best hath yserued it, And fro þe fende it defende, for so I bileue, Til I come to His acountes, as my _Credo_ me telleth, To haue a relees and a remissioun on þat rental I leue. Þe kirke shal haue my caroigne and kepe my bones, 85 For of my corne and catel he craued þe tythe; I payed it hym prestly, for peril of my soule, Forthy is he holden, I hope, to haue me in his masse, And mengen in his memorye amonge alle Crystene. My wyf shal haue of þat I wan with treuthe, and nomore, 90 And dele amonge my douȝtres and my dere children; For þowgh I deye todaye, my dettes ar quitte; I bare home þat I borwed, ar I to bedde ȝede. And with þe residue and þe remenaunte, bi þe rode of Lukes! I wil worschip þerwith Treuthe bi my lyue, 95 And ben his pilgryme atte plow, for pore mennes sake. My plow-fote shal be my pyk-staf, and picche atwo þe rotes, And helpe my culter to kerue, and clense þe forwes.' Now is Perkyn and his pilgrymes to þe plowe faren; To erie þis halue-acre holpyn hym manye. 100 Dikeres and delueres digged vp þe balkes; Þerewith was Perkyn apayed, and preysed hem faste. Other werkemen þere were þat wrouȝten ful ȝerne; Eche man in his manere made hymself to done, And some, to plese Perkyn, piked vp þe wedes. 105 At heighe pryme Peres lete þe plowe stonde, To ouersen hem hymself, and whoso best wrouȝte He shulde be huyred þerafter whan heruest-tyme come. And þanne seten somme and songen atte nale, And hulpen erie his half-acre with 'how! trollilolli!' 110 'Now, bi þe peril of my soule!' quod Pieres, al in pure tene, 'But ȝe arise þe rather, and rape ȝow to worche, Shal no greyne þat groweth glade ȝow at nede; And þough ȝe deye for dole, þe deuel haue þat reccheth!' Tho were faitoures aferde, and feyned hem blynde; 115 Somme leyde here legges aliri, as suche loseles conneth, And made her mone to Pieres, and preyde hym of grace: 'For we haue no lymes to laboure with, lorde, ygraced be ȝe! Ac we preye for ȝow, Pieres, and for ȝowre plow bothe, Þat God of His grace ȝowre grayne multiplye, 120 And ȝelde ȝow of ȝowre almesse þat ȝe ȝiue vs here;