[_The continuation seems imperfect._] _Iris._ In the city of Jerusalem, that is so called. I fear thou wilt never come to that holy Sion That with twelve precious stones is surely walled. Full strait is the way thither to gone, And into that castle entering is none Without thou acquaint thee with two porters before: Hope is the first, and Faith the other one. _Eug._ Lo! so ghostly he prateth evermore; Ye dare not cough, your conscience is so holy! But I pray you show me before Which is the way to yonder castle ye praise so greatly? _Iris._ Over the Mead of Meekness mark thou the way; Then to the Path of Patience shalt thou pass Into the Land of Largeness; hold for the lay, A3,_v._ And in the Lane of Business look thou not bash; Then measure in a marsh a fair manor hasse; Rest there hardely, and abide all night. _Eug._ Nay, that I will not, by this light! But what callest thou this way? _Iris._ _Via recta_, leading to life; So David named it in his day-- _Spes mea stetit in via recta._ _Eug._ Passeth all men by this journey? _Iris._ Nay, and the more pity, verily, I say. _Eug._ What be they that go that way most? _Iris._ They that be inspired with the Holy Ghost, As innocents and virgins. _Eug._ Marry, I know none such in all this coast! _Iris._ They that go thither must be _gratia electi_. _Eug._ Why, is there no other way but this? _Iris._ Yes, on the left side another there is, That is called _via obliqua et via circularis_. _Eug._ And whither draweth this? _Iris._ Even right to death; A4,_r._ Whoso walks that way, himself he slayeth. _Eug._ Sir, who goeth that way so ill? _Iris._ All they that worketh the devil's will, As _omnes iniquo in circuitu impii ambulantes_. _Eug._ Thou art a lowler, by my troth, I warrants! How many by-paths be in that way? _Iris._ Six score and odd, I say. _Eug._ Then one cannot fail where he go by night or day. But may a man go to the stews that way At his pleasure, if he list to play? _Iris._ It brings men to the seat of rueful array; The lady of confusion lieth therein, That Babylon is called; she is the end of all sin. _Eug._ Which way coasteth that country? _Iris._ To an isle in the north, I say; _Ab aquilone pandetur omne malum._ _Eug._ That is the first place that men should assay, Whether it be hedged or walled. _Iris._ With boughs and trees it is marvellously paled. There groweth the elders of envy, Staked with pride full high, And the briars of backbiting with wrath wreathed about, A4,_v._ Full of slouthy bushes and lecherous thorns dry, With gluttonous posts and covetise railed throughout, And at Mischief's Gate many doth in run. _Eug._ And where do they all become?