Hys chaumbre to holden, 1160 With chymené, and chaple, And chosen whan hem lyste, And served as a sovereyn, And as a lord sytten. Swich a gome Godes wordes Grysliche gloseth; I trowe he toucheth nought the text, But taketh it for a tale. God forbad to his folk, And fullyche defendede, 1170 They shoulden nought stodyen biforne Ne sturren her wyttes, But sodenly the same word With here mouth shewe, That weren given hem of God, Thorugh gost of hemselve. Now mot a frere studyen And stumlen in tales, And leven his matynes, And no masse syngen, 1180 {486} And loken hem lesynges That liketh the puple, To purchasen hym his purs ful, To paye for the drynke. And, brother, when bernes ben ful, And holy tyme passed, Thanne comen cursed freres, And croucheth ful lowe, A losel, a lymytoure, Over al the lond lepeth. 1190 And loke that he leve non hous, That somwhat he ne laiche; And there thei gylen hemself, And Godes word turneth, Bagges and beggyng He bad his folke leven, And only serven hymself, And his ruwel sechen, And al that nedly nedeth, That shulden hem nought lakken. 1200 Wherto beggen thise men, And ben nought so feble? Hem fayleth no furryng, Ne clothes atte fulle, But for a lustful liif In lustes to dwellen; Withouten any travail Untrulych libbeth; Thei beth nought maymed men, Ne no mete lakketh; 1210 Thei [ben] clothed in curious cloth, And clenliche arayed. It is a lawles liif, As lordynges usen, {487} Nether ordeyned in ordre, But onethe libbeth. "Christ bad blissen Bodies on erthe That wepen for wikkednesse That he byforn wroughte. 1220 That ben few of tho freres, For thei ben nere dede, And put al in pur clath, With pottes on her hedes; Thanne he warieth, and wepeth, And wicheth after heven, And fyeth on her falshedes That thei before deden. And therfore of that blissyng, Trewely, as I trowe, 1230 Thei may trussen her part In a terre powghe.