And he that is a riatour al his lyf,

And hathe his felaw and neyghburghe in dispite, And woundithe hymself withe his owne knyf, And of oo candel wenythe twoo were light; Slepithe on the day and wacchith al the nyght, That al masses be don long or he redy be, Suche oon may clayme, bi verray title of right, To be a brother of theym that shal never the.

Who holdithe it tresour that that he wysshithe,
And gadrithe hym gossomer to pak it for wulle,
And he is a foole to-fore the nette dothe wisshithe,
And he is a foole that dothe fethers pulle
Of fat capons up mewed to the fulle,

And hathe nothyng but bones for his fee,
Nullatenses ensealed hathe his bulle

To al suche, that non of hem shal the.

Whan the gander grasithe on the grene,

The sleyghti fox dothe hir brode biholde, He takithe the fat and cast awey the leene,

And sigrums chief wardeyn of the folde, Takithe to his larder at what price he wold, Of gretter lambren, j., ij., or thre,

In wynter nyghtis frostis bien so colde,

The sheppard slepithe, God lete hym never the!

A foreyn liknesse whiche shal no man displease,
By a straunge uncowthe comparisoune,
Whan the belwether grasithe at his ease,

Thoughe al the flokke hathe but smal foysoune,

He slepithe at leysor, makithe noyse none nor sowne,
And carithe for no more so he have plenté;
Al tho that make suche a particioune

Amonge theyr subjettis, God lete theyn never the !

Withe ful wombe they preche of abstynence,
Theyr botel filled withe fresshe wyne or ale,
Love rownyng, lowtyng, and reverence,

Newe false report, withe many a glosyng tale; The jay more cherisshed than the nyghtyngale,

Tabourers withe theyr mokkes and false dupplicité Please more these dayes, whan stuffid is theyr male, Withe farced flateryng, God lete hem never the!

Paterfamulias, wise and expert of olde,

Shulde sette botraille atwene derk and lighte, So prudently governe theyr housholde,

To knowe a flight draake from a sterre bright, Owlis and battis of reasoun flee bi nyght,

Late pluk theyr fethers that they mow nat flee, For false nyght rowners han hyndred many a wight, Al suche benche whistelers, God lete hem never the!

Late Janus bifrons have none interesse,

Whitche in oon hoode can shewe a double face;

Voyde camelyon, whiche of new fangelnesse,
Eche colour seyn, the same he dothe enbrace;
And salamandra most felly dothe manace,
Withe his crikettis, lierne this of me,
Where they abide or breede in any place,

Lord of that housholde is never like to the.

Swiche a frary requyrithe Goddis curs,

And I be shrewe al suche counsaillours,
Can kisse withe Judas and kut a mans purs,
Further a netle and cast out rose floures,
Withe bury dokkes strowid bien theyr boures,
Theyr hoked arawis dothe ever bakward flee,
Suche false erwygges, suche covert losengeours,
Enseale up theyr patent, for they shul never the.

AS STRAIGHT AS A RAM'S HORN.

[Addressed probably to Henry VI. From MS. Harl. 172, fol. 71-72. There is another copy in MS. Harl. 4011.]

CONVEYEDE BY LYNE RYGHT AS A RAMMYS HORNE.

ALLE ryghtwysnes now dothe procede,
Sytte crownede lyke an emperesse,
Lawe hathe defyed guerdon and alle mede,
Sett up trouthe on heyght as a goddesse:
Good feythe hathe contraryede dowblenes,
And prudence seethe alle thynge aforne,
Kepynge the ordre of parfithe stabylnes,
Conveyede by lyne ryght as a rammes horne.

Prynces of custome meyntene ryght in dede,
And prelatys lyvethe in parfytnesse,

Knyghthode wolle suffre no falsehede,

And presthode hathe refusyde al rychesse;

Relygyous of veraye holynesse

With vertuous bene on heyght up borne, Envye in cloystres hathe none entresse,

Conveyede by lyne ryght as a rammes horne.

Marchandys of lucre takethe nowe none hede,
And usurye lyethe fetrede in dystresse,
And, for to speke and wryte of womanhede,
They banysshed have from hem newfangelnes;
And labourers done trewlye here busynesse,

That of the daye they wolle none houre be lorne, With swete and travayle avoydynge ydelnesse, Conveyede be lyne ryght as a rammys horne.

Pore folkes pleyne them for noo nede,
That ryche men dothe so grete almes,
Plenté eche daye dothe the hungrye fede,
Clothe the nakyde in here wrecchidnes ;
And charyté ys nowe a cheffe maystresse, [thorne,
Sclaundre from hys tunge hathe plukked out the
Detraccyon hys langage dothe represse,

Conveyed by lyne ryght as a rammes horne.

Ypocrysie chaungede hathe hys wede,

Take an habyte of vertues gladnesse,
Deceyte dare not abrode hys wynges sprede,
Nor dyssymylynge out hornes dresse;
For trouthe of kynde wolle shewe hys bryghtnes,
Without eclipsynge, thow falnes had hit sworne,

To afferme thys dyté trewlye by processe,
Hit ys conveyed ryght as a rammes horne,

Oute of thys lande, and ellys God forbede ! Feynynge outelawede and alsoo falseness, Flaterye ys fledde for verraye shame and drede,

Ryche and pore have chose hem to sadnessc; Wymmene lefte pride and take hem to mekenes, Whoos pacyens ys newe waat and shorne, Ther tunges have no carage of sharpenes, Conveyede by lyne, ryghte as a rammys horne.

Prynce! remembre, and prudently take hede,
Howe vertue is of vices a duchesse,

Oure feithe not haltithe but lenythe on hys crede, Thorghte ryght beleve the dede berythe witnes, Heretykys have lefte there frowadnes,

Wedyde the cokkelle frome the puryd corne, Thus eche astate ys governede in sothenes, Conveyed by lyne ryght as a rammes horne. Quod John Ludgate.

THE CONCORDS OF COMPANY.

CONSULO QUISQUIS ERIS, QUI PACIS FEDERA QUERIS,
CONSONUS ESTO LUPIS, CUM QUIBUS ESSE CUPIS.

[From MS. Harl. 2255, fol. 1-3.]

LYKE THE AUDIENCE SO UTTIR THY LANGUAGE.

I CONSEYL What so evyr thou be,

Off policye, forsighte, and prudence;

Yiff thou wilt lyve in pees and unité,

Conforme thysylff and thynk on this sentence,