The Vision and Creed of Piers Ploughman, Volume 1

Name: The Vision and Creed of Piers Ploughman, Volume 1
Author: Langland, William

Langland, William

Christian pilgrims and pilgrimages -- Poetry

"Love is leche of lif,
  And next oure Lord selve,
  And also the graithe gate                                870
  That goth into hevene;
  For-thi I seye, as I seide
  Er by the textes,
  Whan alle tresors ben tried,
  Treuthe is the beste.

    "Now have I told thee what truthe is,
  That no tresor is bettre;
  I may no lenger lenge thee with,
  Now loke thee oure Lorde."                               879

       *       *       *       *       *

{28}

          _Passus Secundus de Visione, ut supra._

  Yet I courbed on my knees,                               880
  And cried hire of grace,
  And seide, "Mercy, madame,
  For Marie love of hevene,
  That bar that blisful barn
  That boughte us on the rode,
  Kenne me by som craft
  To knowe the false."

    "Loke up on thi left half,
  And lo where he stondeth!
  Bothe Fals and Favel,                                    890
  And hire feeres manye."

    I loked on my left half,
  As the lady me taughte,
  And was war of a womman
  Worthiliche y-clothed,
  Purfiled with pelure
  The fyneste upon erthe,
  Y-corouned with a coroune,
  The kyng hath noon bettre;
  Fetisliche hire fyngres                                  900
  Were fretted with gold wyr,
  And theron rede rubies
  As rede as any gleede,
  {29}
  And diamaundes of derrest pris,
  And double manere saphires,
  Orientals and ewages,
  Envenymes to destroye.

    Hire robe was ful riche,
  Of reed scarlet engreyned,
  With ribanes of reed gold                                910
  And of riche stones.
  Hire array me ravysshed,
  Swich richesse saugh I nevere;
  I hadde wonder what she was,
  And whos wif she were.

    "What is this womman," quod I,
  "So worthili atired?"

    "That is Mede the mayde," quod she,
  "Hath noyed me ful ofte,
  And y-lakked my lemman                                   920
  That Leautee is hoten,
  And bi-lowen hire to lordes
  That lawes han to kepe.

    "In the popes paleis
  She is pryvee as myselve;
  But soothnesse wolde noght so,
  For she is a bastarde;
  For fals was hire fader
  That hath a fikel tonge,
  And nevere sooth seide                                   930
  Sithen he com to erthe;
  And Mede is manered after hym,
  Right as kynde asketh
  _Qualis pater talis filius.
  Bonus arbor bonum fructum facit._

    "I oughte ben hyere than she,
  I kam of a bettre;
  {30}
  My fader the grete God is
  And ground of alle graces,
  So God withouten gynnyng,                                940
  And I his goode doughter,
  And hath yeven me mercy
  To marie with myselve,
  And what man be merciful
  And leelly me love,
  Shal be my lord and I his leef
  In the heighe hevene.

    "And what man taketh Mede,
  Myn heed dar I legge,
  That he shal lese for hire love                          950
  A lappe of _caritatis_.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Vision and Creed of Piers Ploughman, Volume 1

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