Be whom the feith was ferst upbore,
That holi cherche stod relieved,
Thei oghten betre be believed
Than these, whiche that men knowe
Noght holy, thogh thei feigne and blowe
Here lollardie in mennes Ere.
Bot if thou wolt live out of fere, 1820
Such newe lore, I rede, eschuie,
And hold forth riht the weie and suie,
As thine Ancestres dede er this:
So schalt thou noght believe amis.
Crist wroghte ferst and after tawhte,
So that the dede his word arawhte;
He yaf ensample in his persone,
And we the wordes have al one,
Lich to the Tree with leves grene,
Upon the which no fruit is sene. 1830
The Priest Thoas, which of Minerve
The temple hadde forto serve,
And the Palladion of Troie
Kepte under keie, for monoie,
Of Anthenor which he hath nome,
Hath soffred Anthenor to come
And the Palladion to stele,
Wherof the worschipe and the wele
Of the Troiens was overthrowe.
Bot Thoas at the same throwe, 1840
Whan Anthenor this Juel tok,
Wynkende caste awei his lok
For a deceipte and for a wyle:
As he that scholde himself beguile,
He hidde his yhen fro the sihte,
And wende wel that he so mihte
Excuse his false conscience.
I wot noght if thilke evidence
Nou at this time in here estatz
Excuse mihte the Prelatz, 1850
Knowende hou that the feith discresceth
And alle moral vertu cesseth,
Wherof that thei the keies bere,
Bot yit hem liketh noght to stere
Here gostliche yhe forto se
The world in his adversite;
Thei wol no labour undertake
To kepe that hem is betake.
Crist deide himselve for the feith,
Bot nou our feerfull prelat seith, 1860
"The lif is suete," and that he kepeth,
So that the feith unholpe slepeth,
And thei unto here ese entenden
And in here lust her lif despenden,
And every man do what him list.
Thus stant this world fulfild of Mist,
That noman seth the rihte weie:
The wardes of the cherche keie
Thurgh mishandlinge ben myswreynt,
The wo