Some of hese dyscypulys xal be chef of this ordenawns, That xal fortefye this terme that in trost is treson; Thus xal I venge be sotylté al my malycious grevauns; ffor nothyng may excede my prudens and dyscrecion. Gyff me ȝour love, grawnt me myn affeccion, And I wyl unclose the tresor of lovys alyawns, And gyff ȝow ȝoure desyrys afftere ȝoure intencion; No poverté xal aproche ȝow, fro plentevous abundauns. Byholde the dyvercyté of my dysgysyd varyauns, Eche thyng sett of dewe nateralle dysposycion, And eche parte acordynge to his resemblauns, ffro the sool of the ffoot to the hyest asencion. Off ffyne cordewan a goodly peyre of long pekyd schon; Hosyn enclosyd of the most costyous cloth of crenseyn; Thus a bey to a jentylman to make comperycion, With two doseyn poyntys of cheverelle, the aglottes of sylver feyn. A shert of feyn Holond, but care not for the payment; A stomachere of clere reynes the best may be bowth; Thow poverté be chef, lete pride ther be present, And alle tho that repreff pride, thou sette hem at nowth. Cadace wolle or flokkys, where it may be sowth, To stuffe withal thi dobbelet, and make the of proporcyon; Two smale legges and a gret body, thow it ryme nowth, ȝet loke that thou desyre to an the newe faccion. A gowne of thre ȝerdys, loke thou make comparison, Unto alle degrees dayly that passe thin astat; A purse withoutyn mony, a daggere for devoscyon; And there repref is of synne, loke thou make debat. With syde lokkys I schrewe thin here to thi colere hangyng downe, To herborwe qweke bestys that tekele men onyth; An hey smal bonet for curyng of the crowne, And alle beggeres and pore pepyll have hem in dyspyte. Onto the grete othys and lycherye gyf thi delyte; To maynteyn thin astate lete brybory be present; And yf the lawe repreve the, say thou wylt ffyth, And gadere the a felachep after thin entent. Loke thou sett not be precept nor be comawndement, Both sevyle and canon sett thou at nowth; Lette no membre of God but with othys be rent; Lo! thus this werd at this tyme to myn entent is browth. I, Sathan, with my felawus this werd hath sowth, And now we han it at houre plesawns; ffor synne is not shamfast, but boldnes hath bowth, That xal cause hem in helle to have inerytawns. A beggerys dowtere to make gret purvyauns, To cownterfete a jentylwoman, dysgeysed as she can, And yf mony lakke, this is the newe chevesauns, With here prevy plesawns to gett it of sum man. Here colere splayed, and furryd with ermyn, calabere, or satan; A seyn to selle lechery to hem that wyl bey; And thei that wyl not by it, yet i-now xal thei han, And telle hem it is for love, she may it not deney.