"I have y-herd heighe men, Etynge at the table, 5810 Carpen, as thei clerkes were, Of Crist, and of hise myghtes; And leyden fautes upon the fader That formede us alle, And carpen ayein clerkes Crabbede wordes, Why wolde oure Saveour suffre Swich a worm in his blisse, That bigiled the womman, And the man after, 5820 Thorugh whiche wiles and wordes Thei wente to helle, And al hir seed for hir synne {180} The same deeth suffrede. "Here lyeth youre lore, Thise lordes gynneth dispute, Of that the clerkes us kenneth Of Crist by the Gospel: _Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris, etc._ 5830 "Why sholde we that now ben, For the werkes of Adam, Roten and to-rende? Reson wolde it nevere. _Unusquisque portabit onus suum, etc._ "Swiche motyves thei mene, Thise maistres in hir glorie, And maken men in mys-bileve That muse muche on hire wordes, Ymaginatif herafterwarde 5840 Shal answere to hir purpos. "Austyn to swiche argueres Telleth this teme: _Non plus sapere quam oportet._ "Wilneth nevere to wite Why that God wolde Suffre Sathan His seed to bigile; Ac bileveth lelly In the loore of holy chirche, 5850 And preie hym of pardon And penaunce in thi lyve, And for his muche mercy To amende yow here. For alle that wilneth to wite The weyes of God almyghty, I wolde his eighe were in his ers, {181} And his fynger after, That evere wilneth to wite Why that God wolde 5860 Suffre Sathan His seed to bigile, Or Judas to the Jewes Jhesu bitraye. Al was as thow woldest, Lord, y-worshiped be the! And al worth as thow wolt, What so we dispute. "And tho that useth thise hanylons To blende mennes wittes, 5870 What is Do-wel fro Do-bet, That deef mote he worthe, Siththe he wilneth to wite Whiche thei ben bothe, But if he lyve in the lif That longeth to Do-wel. For I dar ben his bolde borgh, That do-bet wole he nevere, Theigh Do-best drawe on hym Day after oother." 5880 And whan that Wit was y-war What dame Studie tolde, He bicom so confus, He kouthe noght loke, And as doumb as deeth, And drough hym arere; And for no carpyng I kouthe after, Ne knelyng to the grounde, I myghte gete no greyn Of his grete wittes. 5890 But al laughynge he louted, {182} And loked upon Studie In signe that I sholde Bi-sechen hire of grace.