"Ac the carefulle may crie And carpen at the yate, Bothe a-fyngred and a-furst, And for chele quake; 5720 Is ther noon to nyme hym neer, {177} His anoy to amende, But hunten hym as an hound, And hoten hym go thennes. Litel loveth he that Lord That lent hym al that blisse, That thus parteth with the povere A percell whan hym nedeth. Ne were mercy in meene men Moore than in riche, 5730 Mendinauntz mete-lees Myghte go to bedde. God is muche in the gorge Of thise grete maistres, Ac amonges meene men His mercy and hise werkes. And so seith the Sauter, I have seighen it ofte: _Ecce audivimus eam in Effrata, invenimus eam in campis silvæ._ 5740 "Clerkes and othere kynnes men Carpen of God faste, And have hym muche in the mouth; Ac meene men in herte. "Freres and faitours Han founde swiche questions, To plese with proude men, Syn the pestilence tyme; And prechen at seint Poules For pure envye of clerkes; 5750 That folk is noght fermed in the feith, Ne free of hire goodes, Ne sory for hire synnes; So is pride woxen, In religion and in al the reme, {178} Amonges riche and povere, That preieres have no power The pestilence to lette. And yet the wrecches of this world Is noon y-war by oother; 5760 Ne for drede of the deeth With-drawe noght hir pride; Ne beth plentevouse to the povere, As pure charité wolde; But in gaynesse and in glotonye For-glutten hir good hemselve, And breketh noght to the beggere As the Book techeth: _Frange esurienti panem tuum, etc._ And the moore he wynneth and welt 5770 Welthes and richesse, And lordeth in londes, The lasse good he deleth. "Tobye telleth yow noght so, Taketh hede, ye riche, How the book Bible Of hym bereth witnesse. _Si tibi sit copia, abundanter tribue. Si autem exiguum, illud impertiri stude libenter._ 5780 "Who so hath muche, spende manliche, So seith Tobye; And who so litel weldeth, Rule hym therafter. For we have no lettre of oure lif, How longe it shal dure, Swiche lessons lordes sholde Lovye to here, And how he myghte moost meynee {179} Manliche fynde. 5790 "Nought to fare as a fithelere or a frere, For to seke festes Homliche at othere mennes houses, And hatien hir owene. Elenge is the halle Ech day in the wike, Ther the lord ne the lady Liketh noght to sitte. Now hath ech riche a rule To eten by hymselve 5800 In a pryvee parlour, For povere mennes sake, Or in a chambre with a chymenee, And leve the chief halle That was maad for meles, Men to eten inne, And al to spare to spende That spille shal another.