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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538526" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 01</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What this mountaigne bymeneth and the merke dale <br>And the feld ful of folk, I shal yow faire shewe. <br>A lovely lady of leere in lynnen yclothed <br>Cam doun fom [the] castel and called me faire, <br>And seide, 'Sone, slepestow? Sestow this peple-<br>How bisie they ben aboute the maze? <br>The mooste partie of this peple that passeth on this erthe, <br>Have thei worship in this world, thei wilne no bettre; <br>Of oother hevene than here holde thei no tale'.-<br>I was afeed of hire face, theigh she faire weere, <br>And seide, ' Mercy, madame, what [may] this [be] to mene?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The tour upon the toft', quod she, 'Truthe is therinne, <br>And wolde that ye wroughte as his word techeth. <br>For he is fader of feith and formed yow alle <br>Bothe with fel and with face and yaf yow fyve wittes <br>For to worshipe hym therwith while that ye ben here. <br>And therfore he highte the erthe to helpe yow echone <br>Of woilene, of lynnen, of liflode at nede <br>In mesurable manere to make yow at ese; <br>And comaunded of his curteisie in commune three thynges: <br>Are none nedfulle but tho, and nempne hem I thynke, <br>And rekene hem by reson - reherce thow hem after. <br>'That oon is vesture from chele thee to save, <br>And mete at meel for mysese of thiselve, <br>And drynke whan thow driest - ac do noght out of reson, <br>That thow worthe the wers whan thow werche sholdest. <br>For Lot in hise lifdayes, for likynge of drynke, <br>Dide by hise doughtres that the devel liked: <br>Delited hym in drynke as the devel wolde, <br>And leccherie hym laughte, and lay by hem bothe - <br>And al he witte it the wyn, that wikked dede: <br>Inebriemus eum vino dormiamusque cum eo, ut <br>servare possimus de patre nostro semen. <br>Thorugh wyn and thorugh wommen ther was Loth acombred, <br>And there gat in glotonie gerles that were cherles. <br>Forthi dred delitable drynke and thow shalt do the bettre. <br>Mesure is medicine, though thow muchel yerne. <br>Al is nought good to the goost that the gut asketh, <br>Ne liflode to the likame that leef is to the soule. <br>Leve nought thi likame, for a liere hym techeth - <br>That is the wrecched world, wolde thee bitraye. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For the fend and thi flessh folwen togidere, <br>And that [shendeth] thi soule; set it in thin herte. <br>And for thow sholdest ben ywar, I wisse thee the beste.' <br>'A, madame, mercy,' quod I, ' me liketh wel youre wordes. <br>Ac the moneie of this molde that men so faste holdeth - <br>Telleth me to whom that tresour appendeth.' <br>Go to the Gospel,' quod she, 'that God seide hymselven, <br>Tho the poeple hym apposede with a peny in the Temple <br>Wheither thei sholde therwith worshipe the kyng Cesar. <br>And God asked of hem, of whom spak the lettre, <br>And the ymage ylike that therinne stondeth? <br>Cesares, thei seiden, 'we seen it wel echone.' <br>''Reddite Cesari,'' quod God, '' that Cesari bifalleth, <br>Et que sunt Dei Deo, or ellis ye don ille.' <br>- For rightfully Reson sholde rule yow alle, <br>And Kynde Wit be wardeyn youre welthe to kepe, <br>And tutour of youre tresor, and take it yow at nede, <br>For housbondrie and he holden togidres.' <br>Thanne I frayned hire faire, for Hym that hire made, <br>'That dongeon in the dale that dredful is of sighte - <br>What may it bemeene, madame, I yow biseche?' <br>'That is the castel of care - whoso comth therinne <br>May banne that he born was to bodi or to soule! <br>Therinne wonyeth a wight that Wrong is yhote, <br>Fader of falshede - and founded it hymselve. <br>Adam and Eve he egged to ille, <br>Counseilled Kaym to killen his brother, <br>Judas he japed with Jewen silver, <br>And sithen on an eller hanged hym after. <br>He is lettere of love and lieth hem alle: <br>That trusten on his tresour bitrayed arn sonnest.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thanne hadde I wonder in my wit what womman it weere <br>That swiche wise wordes of Holy Writ shewed, <br>And halsede hire on the heighe name, er she thennes yede, <br>What she were witterly that wissed me so faire. <br>'Holi Chirche I am,' quod she, thow oughtest me to knowe. <br>I underfeng thee first and the feith taughte. <br>Thow broughtest me borwes my biddyng to fulfille, <br>And to loven me leelly the while thi lif dureth.' <br>Thanne I courbed on my knees and cried hire of grace, <br>And preide hire pitously to preye for my synnes, <br>And also kenne me kyndely on Crist to bileve, <br>That I myghte werchen His wille that wroghte me to man: <br>'Teche me to no tresor, but tel me this ilke = <br>How I may save my soule, that seint art yholden.' <br>'Whan alle tresors arn tried,' quod she,-Treuthe is the beste. <br>I do it on Deus caritas to deme the sothe; <br>It is as dereworthe a drury as deere God hymselven. <br>Who is trewe of his tonge and telleth noon oother, <br>And dooth the werkes therwith and wilneth no man ille, <br>He is a god by the Gospel, agrounde and olofte, <br>And ylik to Oure Lord, by Seint Lukes wordes. <br>The clerkes that knowen this sholde kennen it aboute, <br>For Cristen and uncristen cleymeth it echone. <br>' Kynges and knyghtes sholde kepen it by reson - <br>Riden and rappen doun in reaumes aboute, <br>And taken transgressores and tyen hem faste <br>Til treuthe hadde ytermyned hire trespas to the ende. <br>For David in hise dayes dubbed knyghtes, <br>And dide hem sweren on hir swerd to serven truthe evere. <br>And that is the profession apertly that apendeth to knyghtes, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And naught to Fasten o Friday in fyve score wynter, <br>But holden with hym and with here that wolden alle truthe, <br>And never leve hem for love ne for lacchynge of silver - <br>And whoso passe[th] that point is apostata in the ordre. <br>-But Crist, kyngene kyng, knyghted ten - <br>Cherubyn and Seraphyn, swiche sevene and another, <br>And yaf hem myght in his majestee - the murier hem thoughte - <br>And over his meene meynee made hem archangeles; <br>Taughte hem by the Trinitee treuthe to knowe, <br>To be buxom at his biddyng - he bad hem nought ellis. <br>'Lucifer with legions lerned it in hevene, <br>[And was the lovelokest to loke after Oure Lord (one)] <br>Til he brak buxomnesse; his blisse gan he tyne, <br>And fel fro that felawshipe in a fendes liknesse <br>into a deep derk helle to dwelle there for evere. <br>And mo thousandes myd hym than man kouthe nombre <br>Lopen out with Lucifer in lothliche forme <br>For thei leveden upon hym that lyed in this manere: <br>Ponam pedem in aquilone, et similis ero Altissimo. <br>And alle that hoped it myghte be so, noon hevene myghte hem holde, <br>But fellen out in fendes liknesse [ful] nyne dayes togideres, <br>Til God of his goodnesse [garte the hevene to stekie <br>And gan stable it and stynte] and stonden in quiete. <br>' Whan thise wikkede wenten out, wonderwise thei fellen - <br>Somme in eyr, somme in erthe, somme in helle depe; <br>Ac Lucifer lowest lith of hem alle: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For pride that he putte out, his peyne hath noon ende. <br>And alle that werchen with wrong wende thei shulle <br>After hir deth day and dwelle with that sherewe; <br>Ac tho that werche wel as Holy Writ telleth, <br>And enden as I er seide in truthe, that is the beste, <br>Mowe be siker that hire soules shul wende to hevene, <br>Ther Treuthe is in Trinitee and troneth hem alle. <br>Forthi I seye, as I seyde er, by sighte of thise textes - <br>Whan alle tresors arn tried, Truthe is the beste. <br>Lereth it th[u]s lewed men, for lettred it knoweth - <br>That Treuthe is tresor the trieste on erthe.' <br>'Yet have I no kynde knowynge,' quod I, 'ye mote kenne me bettre <br>By what craft in my cors it comseth, and where.' <br>'Thow doted daffe!' quod she, dulle are thi wittes. <br>To litel Latyn thow lernedest, leode, in thi youthe: <br>Heu michi quia sterilem duxi vitam iuvenilem! <br>It is a kynde knowynge that kenneth in thyn herte <br>For to loven thi Lord levere than thiselve, <br>No dedly synne to do, deye theigh thow sholdest - <br>This I trowe be truthe; who kan teche thee bettre, <br>Loke thow suffre hym to seye, and sithen lere it after; <br>For thus witnesseth his word; worche thow therafter. <br>' For Truthe telleth that love is triacle of hevene: <br>May no synne be on hym seene that that spice useth. <br>And alle his werkes he wroughte with love as hym liste, <br>And lered it Moyses for the leveste thyng and moost lik to hevene, <br>And also the plante of pees, moost precious of vertues : <br>For hevene myghte nat holden it, so was it hevy of hymself, <br>Til it hadde of the erthe eten his fille. <br>And whan it hadde of this fold flessh and blood taken, <br>Was nevere leef upon lynde lighter therafter, <br>And portatif and persaunt as the point of a nedle, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That myghte noon armure it lette ne none heighe walles. <br>' Forthi is love ledere of the Lordes folk of hevene, <br>And a meene, as the mair is, [inmiddes] the kyng and the commune; <br>Right so is love a ledere and the lawe shapeth: <br>Upon man for hise mysdedes the mercyment he taxeth. <br>And for to knowen it kyndely - it comseth by myght, <br>And in the herte, there is the heed and the heighe welle. <br>For in kynde knowynge in herte ther [coms]eth a myght - <br>And that falleth to the Fader that formed us alle, <br>Loked on us with love and leet his sone dye <br>Mekely for oure mysdedes, to amenden us alle. <br>And yet wolde he hem no wo that wroughte hym that peyne, <br>But mekely with mouthe mercy he bisoughte, <br>To have pite of that peple that peyned hym to dethe. <br>' Here myghtow sen ensample in hymself oone - <br>That he was myghtful and meke, and mercy gan graunte <br>To hem that hengen hym heigh and his herte thirled. <br>' Forthi I rede yow riche, haveth ruthe of the povere, <br>Though ye be myghty to mote, beeth meke in youre werkes, <br>For the same mesure that ye mete, amys outher ellis, <br>Ye shulle ben weyen therwith whan ye wenden hennes: <br>Eadem mensura qua mensi fueritis remecietur vobis. <br>For though ye be trewe of youre tonge and treweliche wynne, <br>And as chaste as a child that in chirche wepeth, <br>But if ye loven leelly and lene the povere <br>Of swich good as God sent, goodliche parteth, <br>Ye ne have na moore merite in Masse ne in houres </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than Malkyn of hire maydenhede, that no man desireth. <br>For James the gentile jugged in hise bokes <br>That feith withouten feetis (feblere] than nought, <br>And as deed as a dorenai but if the dedes folwe: <br>Fides sine operibus mortua est &c. <br>'Forthi chastite withouten charite worth cheyned in helle; <br>It is as lewed as a lampe that no light is inne. <br>Manye chapeleyns arn chaste, ac charite is aweye; <br>Are none hardere than hii whan [hii] ben avaunced: <br>Unkynde to hire kyn and to alle Cristene, <br>Chewen hire charite and chiden after moore - <br>Swich chastite withouten charite worth cheyned in helle. <br>Manye curatours kepen hem clene of hire bodies; <br>Thei ben acombred with coveitise, thei konne noght out crepe, <br>So harde hath avarice yhasped hem togideres. <br>And that is no truthe of the Trinite, but tricherie of helle, <br>And lernynge to lewed men the latter for to deele. <br>For [thise ben wordes] writen in the [Euaungelie]: <br>'' Date, et dabitur vobis - for I deele yow alle. <br>And that is the lok of love that leteth out my grace, <br>To conforten the carefulle acombred with synne.'' <br>Love is leche of lif and next Oure Lord selve, <br>And also the graithe gate that goth into hevene. <br>Forthi I seye as I seide er by sighte of the textes: <br>Whan alle tresors ben tried, Treuthe is the beste. <br>'Now have I told thee what truthe is - that no tresor is bettre - <br>I may no lenger lenge thee with; now loke thee Oure Lord!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Langland">William Langland</a><div class=q>
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And the feld ful of folk, I shal yow faire shewe. 
A lovely lady of leere in lynnen yclothed 
Cam doun fom [the] castel and called me faire, 
And seide, 'Sone, slepestow? Sestow this peple-
How bis..."></div>
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