Han brought it to hepe, 1450 Right so fareth freres With folk opon erthe; {494} They freten up the firste froyt, And falsliche lybbeth. But alle freres eten nought Y-liche good mete, But after that his wynnyng is Is his wel-fare, And after that he bringeth hom His bed shal ben graythed, 1460 And after that his richesse is raught He shal ben redy served. But se thiself in thi sight Whou somme of hem walketh With clouted shon, And clothes ful feble, Wel neigh for-werd, And the wlon offe; And his felawe in a frok Worth swhich fiftene, 1470 Arayd in rede stone, And elles were reuthe: And sexe copes or seven In his celle hongeth; Though for fayling of good His felawe shulde sterve, He wolde nought lenen hym a peny His liif for to holden. I myght tymen tho troiflardes To toylen with the erthe, 1480 Tylyen, and trewlich lyven, And her flesh tempren. Now mot ich soutere hys sone Seten to schole, And ich a beggeres brol On the book lerne. {495} And worth to a writere And with a lorde dwelle; Other falsly to a frere The fend for to serven; 1490 So of that beggares brol An abbot shal worthen, Among the peres of the lond Prese to sytten, And lordes sones lowly To tho losels aloute, Knyghtes crouketh hem to And cruccheth ful lowe; And his syre a soutere Y-suled in grees, 1500 His teeth with toylyng of lether Tatered as a sawe. Alaas! that lordes of the londe Leveth swiche wrechen, And leveth swych lorels For her lowe wordes. They shulden maken abbots Her owen bretheren childre, Other of som gentil blod, And so yt best semed, 1510 And fostre none forytoures, Ne swich false freres, To maken fat and fulle And her flesh combren. For her kynde were more To y-clense diches, Than ben to sopers y-set first, And served with sylver. A grete bolle-ful of benen Were beter in hys wombe, 1520 {496} And with the bandes of bakun His baly for to fillen, Then pertryches, or plovers, Or pecokes y-rosted, And comeren her stomakes With curiuse drynkes, That maketh swyche harlotes Hordom usen, And with her wikked word Wymmen bitrayeth. 1530 God wold her wonyynge Were in wildernesse, And fals freres forboden The fayre ladis chaumbres. For knewe lordes her craft, Treuly I trowe, They shulden nought haunten her house So holy on nyghtes, Ne bedden swich brothels In so brode shetes; 1540 But sheten her heved in the stre, To sharpen her wittes; Ne ben kynges confessours of custom, Ne the counsel of the rewme knowe. For Fraunceis founded hem nought