William Langland(ea. 1330–ca. 1400)

Piers Plowman, lines I-Ill

Clothed hem in copes to ben knowen from othere,

And shopen hem heremytes hire ese to have.

I fond there freres, alle the foure ordres,.'

Prechynge the peple for profit of [the] womb[e]:belly

Glosed the gospel as hem good liked;

For coveitise of copes construwed it as thei wolde.

Manye of this maistres freres mowe clothen hem at likyng5

For hire moneie and marchaundise marchen togideres.money

For sith charite hath ben chapman and chief to shryve lordes>

Manye ferlies han fallen in a fewe yeres.wondrous events

But Holy Chirche and hii holde bettre togidres

The mooste meschief on molde is mountynge up faste.7

Ther preched a pardoner as he a preest were:

Broughte forth a bulle with bisshopes seles,

And seide that hymself myghte assoillen hem alleabsolve

Of falshede of fastynge, of avowes ybroken.deceit I vows

Lewed men leved hym wel and liked hise wordes,unlearned

Comen up knelynge to kissen hise bulles.

He bonched hem with his brevet and blered hire eighen,

And raughte with his rageman rynges and broches.

Thus [ye] gyven [yourc] gold glotons to helpe,

And leneth it losels that leccherie haunten!1

Were the bisshop yblessed and worth bothe his eris,

His seel- sholde noght be sent to deceyve the peple.

Ac it is noght by the bisshop that the boy prechethv->

For the parisshe preest and the pardoner parten the silverdivide

That the povere [peple] of the parissche sholde have if theypoor

ne were.

Persons and parisshe preestes pleyned hem torectors / complained

the bisshop

That hire parisshes weren povere sith the pestilence tyme,plague

To have a licence and levee at London to dwelle,permission

And syngen ther for symonie for silver is swete.

Bisshopes and bachelers, bothe maistres and doctours—

That han cure under Crist, and crownynge in tokene

And signe that thei sholden shryven hire parisshens,

Prechen and praye for hem, and the povere fede—

Liggen in Londoun in Lenten and ellis.

Somme serven the King and his silver tellen,keep account of

In the Cheker and in the Chauncelrie chalangen hise dettes

Of wardes and of wardemotes, weyves and streyves.

And somme serven as servaunts lordes and ladies,

And in stede of stywardes sitten and demen.position /judge

Hire messe and hire matyns and many ofMasses / morning prayers

hire houresdivine offices

Arn doone undevoutliche; drede is at the lasteundevoutly

Lest Crist in his Consistorie acorse ful manye!

I parcevved of the power that Peter hadde to kepe- comprehended

To bynden and to unbynden, as the Book tellethv->

How he it lefte with love as Oure Lorde hightecommanded

Amonges foure vertues, most vertuous of alle vertues,

That cardinals ben called and closynge yates1

There Crist is in kyngdom, to close and to shette,shut

And to opene it to hem and hevene blisse shewe.

Ac of the Cardinals at court that kaughte of that name

And power presumed in hem a Pope to make

To han the power that Peter hadde, impugnen I nelle2—

For in love and lettrure the eleccion' bilongeth;learning

Forthi I kan and kan naught of court speke moore.therefore

FRM PEARLl

Perle plesaunte to prynces payePearl," the precious prize of a

To clanly clos in golde so clereChastely set in cherished gold,

Oute of Oryent I hardyly sayeIn all the East none equalling,

Ne proued I neuer her preciosNo peer to her could I behold.

pere

So rounde so reken in vche araveSo round, so rare, a radiant thing,

So smal so smope her sydeg wereSo smooth she was, so small of

Quere so euer I jugged gemme3Wherever I judged gems

gayeglimmering

I sette hyr sengely in synglureI set her apart, her price untold.

Alias I leste hyr in on erbereAlas, I lost her in earth's green

pur3 gresse to grounde hit fro meThrough grass to the ground, I

yotsearched in vain.

I dewyne fordolked of luf daun-I languish alone; my heart grows

gerecold

Of pat pryuy perle wythouten spotFor my precious pearl without a

Sypen in pat spote hit fro meSince in that spot it slipped from

sprangeme,

Ofte haf I wayted wyschande patI lingered, longing for that delight

wele

Pat wont watj whyle deuoyde myThat from my sins once set me

wrangefree

& heuen my happe & al my heleAnd my happiness raised to the

Pat dotg bot prych my hert prangeHer going wounds me grievously;

My breste in bale bot bolne &It burns my breast both day and

belenight.

3et p3t me neuer so swete aYet I never imagined a melody

sange

As stylle stounde let to me steleSo sweet as she, so brief, and

For sope per fleten to me feleBut memory flowed through my

To penke hir color so clad in clotI thought how her color in clods"

o moul pou marreg a myry iueleo dust that dims what once was

My priuy perle wythouten spotteMy precious pearl without a stain.

Pat spot of spyseg [mol t nedegRare spices on that spot must

spredespread:

Per such rycheg to rot is runneSuch riches there to rot have run,

Blomeg blayke & blwe & redeBlooms of yellow and blue and

Per schyneg ful schyr agayn peTheir sheen a shimmer against

sunnethe sun.

Flor & fryte may not be fedeFlower and fruit nor faded nor

Per hit doun drof in moldegWhere the pearl dropped down in

dunnemouldering dun;"

For vch gresse mot grow ofEach grass from a lifeless grain is

grayne3 dedebred,

No whete were elleg to wonejElse to harvest no wheat were

wonnewon:"

Of goud vche goude is ay bygonneAlways from good is good begun.

So semly a sede mogt fayly notSo seemly? a seed could not die in

Pat spryg ande spyceg vp neThat sprig nor spice there would

sponnebe none

Of pat precios perle wythoutenOf that precious pearl without a

spottestain.

To pat spot pat I in specheTo the spot which I in speech

expounportray,

I entred in pat erber greneI entered in that arbor green,

In Augoste in a hy3 seysounIn August on a holy day,

Quen corne is coruen wythWhen the corn is cut with sickles

crokej kenekeen.

On huyle per perle hit trendeledOn the little rise where my pearl

do unrolled away,

Schadowed pis wortej ful schyreThe fairest flowers formed a

& schenescreen:

Gilofre gyngure & gromylyounGillyflower, ginger, gromwell

& pyonys powdered ay bytweneWith peonies" powdered in

45 3if hit wat3 semly on to seneIf they were seemly to be seen,

A fayr reflayr 3et fro hit flotFar sweeter the scents from that

Per wonys pat worpyly I wot &More worthy her dwelling, well I

weneween,?

My precious perle wythouten spotMy precious pearl without a stain.

Bifore pat spot my honde II mourned, hands clenched,

spenn[e]dbefore that mound,

For care ful colde pat to me cajtFor the piercing cold of grief had

A deuely dele in my hert dennedMe in the doleful dread and

Pa3 resoun sette myseluen sa3tMy heart, though reason solace

I playned my perle pat per watgI longed for my pearl, locked in

spenn[e]dthe ground,

Wyth fyrte skylle3 pat faste fa3tWhile fierce contentions in me

Pa3 kynde of Kryst me comfortIn Christ, though comfort could

kennedbe found,

My wreched wylle in wo ayMy wretched will was still

wraytedistraught.

I felle vpon pat floury fla3tI fell upon that flowery plot.

Suche odour to my hemeg schotSuch odors eddied in my brain,

I slode vpon a slepyng-slagteTo sudden slumber I was brought

On pat precjijos perle wythoutenBy that precious pearl without a

spotstain.