I have browth ȝow newe namys, and wyl ȝe se why ffor synne is so plesaunt to eche mannys intent, ȝe xal kalle pride oneste, and nateralle kend lechory, And covetyse wysdam there tresure is present. Wreth manhod, and envye callyd chastement; Seyse nere sessyon, lete perjery be chef; Glotenye rest, let abstynawnce beyn absent; And he that wole exorte the to vertu, put hem to repreff. To rehers al my servauntes my matere is to breff, But alle these xal everyth the dyvicion eternal; Thow Cryst by his sotylté many materys meef, In evyrlastynge peyne with me dwellyn thei xal. Remembre, oure servauntes, whoys sowlys ben mortalle, ffor I must remeffe for more materys to provyde; I am with ȝow at alle tymes whan ȝe to councel me calle, But for a short tyme myself I devoyde. _Johannes Baptist._ I, John Baptyst, to ȝow thus prophesye, That on xal come aftyr me and not tary longe, In many folde more strengere than I, Of whose shon I am not worthy to lose the thonge. Wherefore I councel the ȝe reforme alle wronge, In ȝour concyens of the mortalle dedys sevyn, And for to do penawns loke that ȝe ffonge, ffor now xal come the kyngdham of hevyn. The weys of oure lord cast ȝow to aray, And therin to walk loke ȝe be applyande; And make his pathys as ryth as ȝe may, Kepyng ryth forth, and be not declinande. Neyther to fele on ryth nor on lefte hande, But in the myddys purpose ȝow to holde, ffor that in alle wyse is most plesande, As ȝe xal here, whan I have tolde. Of this wey for to make moralysacyon, Be the ryth syde ȝe xal undyrstonde mercy, And on the lefte syde lykkenyd dysperacion, And the patthe betwyn bothyn, that may not wry, Schal be hope and drede to walk in perfectly, Declynyng not to fele, for no maner nede; Grete cawsys I xal sheve ȝow why, That ȝe xal sowe the patthe of hope and drede. On the mercy of God to meche ȝe xal not holde, As in this wyse behold what I mene; ffor to do synne be thou no more bolde, In trost that God wole mercyful bene. And yf be sensualyté, as it is ofte sene, Synnyst dedly, thou xalt not therfore dyspeyre; But therfore do penawns and confesse the clene, And of hevyn thou mayst trost to ben eyre. The pathe that lyth to this blyssyd enherytawns, Is hope and drede copelyd be conjunccyon; Betwyx these tweyn may be no dysseverawns, ffor hope withowtyn drede is maner of presumpcion. And drede withowtyn hope is maner of dysperacion, So these tweyn must be knyt be on acorde. How ȝe xal aray the wey, I have made declaracion, Also the ryth patthis, aȝens the comyng of oure Lord.