"Alle that persecution In pure liif suffren, They han the beneson of God, Blissed in erthe. I pray, parceyve now The pursut of a frere, In what mesure of a mekenesse Thise men deleth. Byhold upon Water Brut Whou bisiliche thei pursueden, 1310 For he seid hem the sothe. And yet, syre, ferther Hy may no more marren hem, But men telleth That he is an heretik, And yvele beleveth. {490} And precheth it in pulpit To blenden the puple. They wolden awyrien that wight For his wel dedes, 1320 And so they chewen charité, As chewen shaf houndes. And thei pursueth the povere, And passeth pursutes, Bothe they wyln and thei wolden Y-worthen so grete, To passen any manes myght, To mortheren the soules; First to brenne the body In a bale of fiir, 1330 And sythen the sely soule slen, And senden hyre to helle. And Christ clerly forbad His christene, and defended, They shoulden nought after the face Never the folke demen." "Sire," I seide myself, "Thou semest to blamen. Why dispisest thou thus Thise sely pore freres, 1340 None other men so mychel, Monkes ne prestes, Chanons ne charthous That in chirche serveth? It semeth that thise sely men Han somewhat the greved, Other with word, or with werk, And therfore thou wilnest To shenden other shamen hem With the sharp speche, 1350 {491} And bannen holliche, And her hous greven."