ones. _Me._ What you tell
me of *Amphybyanes, [*Amphybyanes be thynges doutfull.]
suche as ye mostre *Fyber is.[*Fyber is a beste of ye
see & ye land.] _Ogy._ No thay be rather suche as the
*Cocatrice. [*A Cocatrice wil kyll a man with a loke,]
But withowt dissimulation, I shall put you owt of this
dowte in thre wordes. To them that thay hate, thay be
Chanones, and to them that thay loue thay be Monkes
_Menede._ Yet yowe doo nat open thys redle. _Ogy._ ||
I shall paynte it before youre eyes, if the bysshope of
Rome doo shot hys thonderbowlt amogst all monkes, thay
wyll than be chanones, & nat monkes, but and if he wold
suffre all monkes to take wyues, tha wyll they be
monkes, _Me._ O new partakeres, I wold to god they wold
take away my wyffe. _Ogy._ But to come to our purpose,
the college hathe skarsly any other *emolumetes
[*Rettes.] but of the liberalite of our lady. For the
great offeryngs be kepyd stylle, but if ther be any
litle some of monaye offerid that goith to the comens
of the company, & the mayster whome thay call pryoure.
_Me._ Be thay of a vertuous lyffe? _Ogy._ Nat to be
dispraysyd, thay be more vertuous tha ryche of thayr
yerely renttes. The temple ys goodly & goregious, but
oure Lady dwellythe nat in it, but that was purchasyd
for the honor of her sone. She hathe her owne temple,
|| B.|| that she may be of the ryght hand of her sone.
_Me._ Apon the right had. Whiche way dothe her sonne
loke than? _Ogy._ It is well remembryd. Whan he lokythe
to the West, his mother is apo his right hand, but wha
he turnythe hym to the Este she is apon the lefte hand.
But yet she dwellythe nat in that churche, for it is
nat yet buyldyd all vpe, and the wynde runnythe thorow
euery parte with open wyndowes & dowres, and also nat
ferre of is the Occiane seye father of all wyndes.
_Me._ what doo yow tell me wher dothe she dwell tha?
_Ogy._ In ye same churche whiche I told you was nat all
fynyshyd, ther is a lytle chapell seelyd ouer with
wodde, on ether syde a lytle dore wher ye pylgrymes go
thorow, ther is lytle light, but of ye taperes, with a
fragrant smell. _Me._ All these be mete for religyon.
_Ogy._ Ye Menedemus if you loke within you || wyll say
that it is a seate mete for sayntes, all thynges be so
bright in gold, syluer, and precyous stones. _Me._ You
almost moue me to go thyther also. _Ogy._ It shalnat
repente you of your iornay. _Me._ Spryngithe ther no
holy oyle? _Ogy._ I trowe you dote, that spryngythe na