These are worth quoting for the sake of Tyrwhitt’s note on 16993. ‘_Wine of ape_,’ he says, ‘I understood to mean the same as _vin de singe_ in the old _Calendrier des Bergiers_. Sign 1. ii. b. The author is treating of physiognomy, and in his description of the four temperaments he mentions, among other circumstances, the different effects of wine upon them. The choleric, he says, _a vin de Lyon; cest a dire, quant a bien beu veult tanser, noyser et battre_. The sanguine _a vin de singe; quant a plus beu tant est plus joyeux_. In the same manner the phlegmatic is said to have _vin de mouton_, and the melancholick _vin de porceau_.’ In the Manciple’s Prologue, lines 17043 to 17050, we have the following praise of wine as a reconciler:-- Then gan our hoste to laughen wonder loude, And sayd: I see wel it is necessary Wher that we gon good drinke with us to cary; For that wol turnen rancour and disese To accord and love, and many a wrong apese. O Bacchus, Bacchus, blessed be thy name, That so canst turnen ernest into game: Worship and thonke be to thy deitee. If _Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus_ be a true rule, we might say that Chaucer liked his glass. In the Persones Tale, under heading _De Gulâ_, we read, ‘After avarice cometh glotonie, which is expresse agenst the commandement of God. Glotonie is unmesurable appetit to ete or to drinke.... This sinne hath many spices. The first is dronkennesse, that is the horrible sepulture of manne’s reson: and this is dedly sinne.’ The Rime of Sire Thopas is tantalising. It breaks off just as we are assured that Sire Thopas Himself drank water of the well, As did the knight Sire Percivell So worthy under wede, Till on a day---- _Hiatus valde deflendus!_ Yet we find with strange inconsistency in lines 13801-13803-- And ther he swore on ale and bred How that the geaunt should be ded, Betide what so betide. Lines 13693, 13694 show the early use of the nutmeg with liquor-- And notemuge to put in ale, Whether it be moist or stale: as in the old song-- What gave thee that jolly red nose? Nutmegs and cloves. This ample history of manners from one of our greatest poets scarcely needs to be supplemented. Indeed, little can be added even from that withering satire of Robert Longlande, entitled the _Vision of Pierce Plowman_, who, lashing everybody, did not spare the corruptions of the Church. To this _vision_ has been commonly annexed a poem, called ‘Pierce the Plowman’s Crede,’ a satire on the Mendicant Friars. These last had sprung up in the preceding century. They were, indeed, a necessity of the time, so far had the monastic orders degenerated from their primitive simplicity, so wholly were they abandoned to luxury and indolence. In the following lines of the ‘Crede’ a Franciscan is defending his order:--