The pece is as it were a facrament
Tofore the God, and shal with wordis plaine, Without any double entendèment,
Be tretid, for the trouth ne can not faine, But yf the men within 'hemselfe ben vaine; The fubftaunce of the pece may not be trewe, But every day it chaungith upon newe.
But who that is of charite parfite He voidith allè fleightis ferre awaye,
And fette his worde upon the famè plyte Where that his hert hath found a fikir waye, And thus when confcience is trewly waye, And that these ben yhandlid with the wife, It shal abyde and stande in allè wise.
The' Apoftil faith, ther may no life be gode Whiche is not groundid upon charite, For charite ne fheddè nevir blode, So hath the werre as there no properte, For thilkè vertue whiche is fayd pite With Charite fo ferforth is acquainted
That in her may no false semblant be paynted. 329 Caffodore, whose writinge is authorised, Saithe, where that Pite reignith ther is grace, Thrugh which the pece hath al his welth affysed, So that of Werre he dredith no manace;
Where Pyte dwellith in the famè place 'T'here may no dedly cruilte fojourne
Wherof that Mercy shoulde his wayè tourne.
To fe what pyte forth with mercy doth The cronique is at Rome in thilke empire Of Constantine, whiche is a talè fothe, When him was levir his owne deth defire Then do the yongè childrin to martire, Of cruiltie he leftin the quarele, Pyte he wrought, and pyte was his hele. For thilkè mann'is pyte whiche he dede God was pytous, and made him whole at al, Silvefter came, and in the samè ftede He yave him baptisme first in special, Whiche did awaye the finne original, And al his lepre' it hath so purified That his pyte for er is magnified.
Pyte was the cause why this emperour Was whole in body and in soulè bọthe, And Rome alfo was fette in thilke honour Of Chrift'is faith, fo that they leve or loth, Whiche haddin be with Chrift toforè wroth, Recevid werin unto Chrift'is lore; Thus fhal pyte be praifid evirmore.
My worthy liegè Lorde, Henry by name, Whiche Englande hafte to governin and right, Men oughtin wel thy pyte to proclame, Whiche opinliche in al the world'is fight It fhewith, with the helpe of God almight, To yeve us pece, which long hath be debated Wherof thy prife shal nevir be abated.
My Lorde, in whom hath evir yet be founde Pyte, withoutin fpotte of violence,
Kepe thilke pece alwayis within bounde Whiche God hath plantid in thy counscience, So fhal the cronique of thy pacience Amonge the faintes be taken into memorie, To the legende of perdurable glorie.
And to thin erthely prise, so as I can, Whiche every man is holdin to commende, 1 Gower, whiche am al thy liegè man, This lettir to thine Excellence I fende, As I whiche evir unto my live's ende Wol pray for the estate of thy perfone, In worshippe of thy fceptre and thy throne. Not onely to my kinge of pece I write, But to thefe othir princis Chriftin al, That eche of 'hem his ownè herte endite, And cefe the werre or more mifchefe yfal, Sette eke the rightful puppe upon his stall, Kepe charitè, and drawe pite to hande,
And maintaine lawe, and fo the pece fhall stande. 385 Explicit carmen de pacis commendatione, quod, ad lau- dem et memoriam ferenissimi principis domini regis Henrici Quarti, fuus humilis orator Johannes Gotver compofuit.
Electus Chrifti pie rex Henrice fuifti, Qui bene venifti, cum propria regna petisti, Tu mala viciftique bonis bona reftituifti, Et populo trifti nova gaudia contribuisti,
Et mihi fpes lata, quod adhuc per te renovata Succedent fata prisca probitate beata,
Eft tibi nam grata gratia fponte data. Henrici Quarti primus regni fuit annus, Quo mihi defecit vifus ad acta med.
Omnia tempus habent, finem natura ministrat, Quem virtute fua frangere nemo potest. Ultra poffe nihil, quamvis mihi velle remanfit, Amplius ut fcribam non mihi poffe manet. Dum potui fcripfi, fed nunc quia curva senectus Turbavit sensus, fcripta relinquo fcholis. Scribat, qui veniet poft me, difcretior alter, Ammodo namque manus et mea penna filent. Hoc tamen in finem verborum quæfo meorum Profpera quod ftatuat regna futura Deus.
A balade of gode counfeile, tranflated out of Latin verfes into Englife by Dan Ibon Lidgat, cleped The Monke of Burie.
CONSYDIR well every circumftaunce,
Of what estate foever thou ybe,
Or riche or stronge, or mighty' of puiffaunce, Prudent or wyfe, or discret or befy,
The dome of folkes in foth thou may nat flie, What evir thou doift truftith wel this, A wickid tonge wol alway deme amis.
For in thy porte or in thine apparaile If thou be cladde and honeftly be faine, Anone the peple' of malice wol not faile Without advice or refon for to faine, That thin array is made or wrought in vain ; Suffre 'hem fpeke, and truftith right wel this, A wickid tonge wol alway deme amis.
Thou wil to kingis be equipolent, With grete lordis evin and peregal; And if thou be to torne and al to rent Than wol they say, and jangle ovir al, Thou art a flogarde that nevir thrive fhal; Suffre 'hem fpeke, and trustith right wel this, A wickid tonge wol alway deme amis.
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