"Reed me noght," quod Reson, "No ruthe to have, Til lordes and ladies Loven alle truthe, 2310 And haten alle harlotrie, To heren or to mouthen it. "Til Parnelles purfille Be put in hire hucche, And childrene cherissynge Be chastynge with yerdes, And harlottes holynesse Be holden for an hyne. "Til clerkene coveitise be To clothe the povere and fede, 2320 And religiouse romeris _Recordare_ in hir cloistres, As seynt Beneyt hem bad, Bernard and Fraunceis, And til prechours prechynge Be preved on hemselve. "Til the kynges counseil Be the commune profit, Til bisshopes bayardes Ben beggeris chaumbres, 2330 Hire haukes and hire houndes Help to povere religious. "And til seint James be sought There I shal assigne, That no man go to Galis But if he go for evere;-- And alle Rome renneres, For robberes biyonde, Bere no silver over see That signe of kyng sheweth, 2340 {73} Neither grave ne ungrave, Gold neither silver, Upon forfeture of that fee, Who so fynt it at Dovere, But if he be marchaunt or his man, Or messager with lettres, Provysour or preest, Or penaunt for hise synnes. "And yet," quod Reson, "by the Rode! I shal no ruthe have, 2350 While Mede hath the maistrie In this moot-halle. Ac I may shewe ensamples, As I se outher while, I seye it by myself," quod he, "And it so were That I were kyng with coroune To kepen a reaume, Sholde nevere Wrong in this world, That I wite myghte, 2360 Ben unpunysshed in my power, For peril of my soule, Ne gete my grace for giftes, So me God save! Ne for no mede have mercy, But mekenesse it make; For _nullum malum_ the man Mette with _inpunitum_, And bad _nullum bonum_ Be _irremuneratum_. 2370 "Lat youre confessour, sire kyng, Construe this unglosed; And if ye werchen it in werk, I wedde myne eris, {74} That lawe shal ben a laborer And lede a-feld donge, And love shal lede thi lond, As the leef liketh." Clerkes that were confessours Coupled hem togideres, 2380 Al to construe this clause, And for the kynges profit, Ac noght for confort of the commune, Ne for the kynges soule; For I seigh Mede in the moot-halle On men of lawe wynke, And thei laughynge lope to hire, And left Reson manye. Waryn Wisdom Wynked upon Mede, 2390 And seide, "Madame, I am youre man, What so my mouth jangle; I falle in floryns," quod that freke, "And faile speche ofte."