"Muche hardier may he asken, That here myghte have his wille In lond and in lordshipe, And likynge of bodie, And for Goddes love leveth al, Any lyveth as a beggere; And as a mayde for mannes love 9430 Hire moder forsaketh, Hir fader and alle hire frendes, And folweth hir make. Muche moore is to love Of hym that swich oon taketh, Than is that maiden That is maried thorugh brocage, As by assent of sondry parties, And silver to boote, Moore for coveitise of good 9440 Than kynde love of bothe. So it fareth by ech a persone That possession forsaketh, And put hym to be pacient. And poverte weddeth, The which is sib to God hymself, And so to hise seintes." "Have God my trouthe!" quod Haukyn, "Ye preise faste poverte, What is poverte with pacience," quod he; 9450 "Proprely to mene?" "_Paupertas_," quod Pacience, "_est odibile bonum, remotio curarum, possessio sine calumnia, donum Dei, sanitatis mater, {290} absque sollicitudine semita, sapientiæ temperatrix, negotium sine damno, incerta fortuna, absque sollicitudine felicitas._" 9460 "I kan noght construe al this," quod Haukyn, "Ye moste kenne me this on Englissh." "In Englissh," quod Pacience, "It is wel hard wel to expounen; Ac som deel I shal seyen it, By so thow understonde: Poverte is the firste point That pride moost hateth; Thanne is it good by good skile, Al that agasteth pride. 9470 Right as contricion is confortable thyng, Conscience woot wel, And a sorwe of hymself, And a solace to the soule, So poverte propreliche, Penaunce and joye, Is to the body Pure spiritual helthe. _Ergo paupertas est odibile bonum._ And contricion confort, 9480 And _cura animarum_. "Selde sit poverte, The sothe to declare; For as justice to jugge men, Enjoyned is no poore, Ne to be mair above men Ne mynystre under kynges; Selde is any poore y-put {291} To punysshen any peple. _Remotio curarum._ 9490 _Ergo_ poverte and poore men Perfournen the comaundement, _Nolite judicare Quemquam_ the thridde," "Selde is any poore riche, But of rightful heritage; Wynneth he noght with wightes false, Ne with unseled mesures, Ne borweth of hise neighebores, But that he may wel paie. 9500 _Possessio sine calumnia._ "The ferthe is a fortune That florissheth the soule, With sobretee fram alle synne, And also yit moore It afaiteth the flessh Fram folies ful manye, A collateral confort, Cristes owene gifte. _Donum Dei._ 9510