HICKSCORNER.
PITY.
Now Jesu the gentle, that brought Adam fro hell,
Save you all, sovereigns, and solace you send:
And, of this matter that I begin to tell,
I pray you of audience, till I have made an end;
For I say to you, my name is Pity,
That ever yet hath been man's friend.
In the bosom of the second person in Trinity
I sprang as a plant, man's miss to amend;
You for to help I put to my hand:
Record I take of Mary that wept tears of blood;
I Pity within her heart did stand;
When she saw her son on the rood,
The sword of sorrow gave that lady wound;
When a spear clave her son's heart asunder,
She cried out, and fell to the ground;
Though she was woe, it was little wonder,
This delicate colour [had] that goodly lady,
Full pale and wan, she saw her son all dead,
Splayed on a cross with the five wells of pity,
Of purple velvet powdered with roses red.
Lo, I Pity thus made your errand to be sped,
Or else man for ever should have been forlore.
A maiden so laid his life to wed,
Crowned as a king the thorns pricked him sore.
Charity and I of true love leads the double rein;
Whoso me loveth damned never shall be.
Of some virtuous company I would be fain;
For all that will to heaven needs must come by me,
Chief porter I am in that heavenly city,
And now here will I rest me a little space,
Till it please Jesu of his grace
Some virtuous fellowship for to send.
CONTEMPLATION.
Christ that was christened, crucified, and crowned,
In his bosom true love was gaged with a spear,
His veins brast and bruised, and to a pillar bound,
With scourges he was lashed, the knots the skin tare,
On his neck to Calvary the great cross he bare,
His blood ran to the ground, as Scripture doth tell:
His burden was so heavy, that down under it he fell,
Lo, I am kin to the Lord, which is God's son;
My name is written foremost in the book of life,
For I am perfect Contemplation,
And brother to holy church that is our Lord's wife.
John Baptist, Anthony, and Jerome, with many mo,
Followed me here in holt,[111] heath, and in wilderness;
I ever with them went where they did go,
Night and day toward the way of rightwiseness:
I am the chief lantern of all holiness,
Of prelates and priests I am their patron;
No armour so strong in no distress,
Habergeon, helm, ne yet no Jeltron,
To fight with Satan am I the champion,
That dare abide, and manfully stand:
Fiends flee away, where they see me come;
But I will show you why I came to this land
For to preach and teach of God's sooth saws,
Ayenst vice that doth rebel ayenst him and his laws.
PITY.
God speed, good brother; fro whence came you now?
CONTEMPLATION.
Sir, I came from Perseverance to seek you.
PITY.
Why, sir, know you me?
CONTEMPLATION.
Yea, sir, and have done long; your name is Pity.
PITY.
Your name fain would I know.
CONTEMPLATION.
Indeed I am called Contemplation,
That useth to live solitarily;
In woods and in wildness[112] I walk alone,
Because I would say my prayers devoutly;
I love not with me to have much company:
But Perseverance oft with me doth meet,
When I think on thoughts that is full heavenly;
Thus he and I together full sweetly doth sleep.
PITY.
I thank God that we be met together.
CONTEMPLATION.
Sir, I trust that Perseverance shortly will come hither.
PITY.
Then I think to hear some good tiding.
CONTEMPLATION.
I warrant you, brother, that he is coming.
PERSEVERANCE.
The eternal God, that named was Messias,
He give you grace to come to his glory,
Wherever is joy in the celestial place,
When you of Satan winneth the victory,
Everyman ought to be glad to have in company,
For I am named good Perseverance,
That ever is guided by virtuous governance;
I am never variable, but doth continue,
Still going upward the ladder of grace,
And lode in me planted is so true,
And from the poor man I will never turn my face:
When I go by myself oft I do remember
The great kindness that God showed unto man,
For to be born in the month of December,
When the day waxeth short, and the night long,
Of his goodness that champion strong
Descended down fro the Father of rightwiseness,
And rested in Mary the flower of meekness.
Now to this place hither come I am
To seek Contemplation my kinsman.
CONTEMPLATION.
What, brother Perseverance? ye be welcome.
PERSEVERANCE.
And so be you also, Contemplation.
CONTEMPLATION.
Lo, here is our master Pity.
PERSEVERANCE.
Now truly ye be welcome into this country.
PITY.
I thank ye heartily, sir Perseverance.
PERSEVERANCE.
Master Pity, one thing is come to my remembrance;
What tithings hear you now?
PITY.
Sir, such as I can I shall show you:
I have heard many men complain piteously;
They say they be smitten with the swerd of poverty.
In every place where I do go:
Few friends poverty doth find,
And these rich men been unkind;
For their neighbours they will nought do,
Widows doth curse lords and gentle men,
For they constrain them to marry with their men,
Yea, whether they will or no:
Men marry for good,[113] and that is damnable,
Yea, with old women that is fifty and beyond:
The peril now no man dread will;
All is not God's law that is used in land;
Beware will they not, till death in his hand
Taketh his sword, and smiteth asunder the life vein,
And with his mortal stroke cleaveth the heart atwain:
They trust so in mercy, the lantern of brightness,
That no thing do they dread God's rightwiseness.
PERSEVERANCE.
O Jesu, sir, here is a heavy tiding.
PITY.
Sir, this is true, that I do bring.
CONTEMPLATION.
How am I beloved, master Pity, where ye come?
PITY.
In good faith, people have now small devotion;
And as for with you, brother Contemplation,
There meddleth few or none.
CONTEMPLATION.
Yet, I trust, that priests love me well?
PITY.
But a few, i-wis, and some never a deal.
CONTEMPLATION.
Why, sir, without me they may not live clean.
PITY.
Nay, that is the least thought that they have of fifteen;
And that maketh me full heavy.
CONTEMPLATION.
How, trow you that there be no remedy?
PITY.
Full hard, for sin is now so grievous and ill,
That I think that it be growen to an impossible,
And yet one thing maketh me ever mourning:
That priests lack utterance to show their cunning;
And all the while that clerks do use so great sin,
Among the lay people look never for no mending.
PERSEVERANCE.
Alas, that is a heavy case,
That so great sin is used in every place;
I pray God it amend.
CONTEMPLATION.
Now God, that ever hath been man's friend,
Some better tidings soon us send!
For now I must be gone.
Farewell, good brethren here;
A great errand I have elsewhere,
That must needs be done:
I trust I will not long tarry;
Thither will I hie me shortly,
And come again, when I have done.
PERSEVERANCE.
Hither again, I trust, you will come;
Therefore God be with you.
CONTEMPLATION.
Sir, needs I must depart now;
Jesu me speed this day.
PERSEVERANCE.
Now, brother Contemplation, let us go our way.
FREEWILL.
Aware, fellows, and stand a-room:
How say you? am not I a goodly person?
I trow, you know not such a guest:
What, sirs, I tell you, my name is Freewill,
I may choose whether I do good or ill;
But for all that I will do, as me list:
My conditions ye know not, perdè,
I can fight, chide, and be merry;
Full soon of my company ye would be weary,
And ye knew all.
What, fill the cup, and make good cheer!
I trow I have a noble here:
Who lent it me? By Christ, a frere;
And I gave him a fall.
Where be ye, sir? be ye at home?
Cock's passion, my noble is turned to a stone.
Where lay I last? Beshrew your heart, John;
Now, by these bones, she hath beguiled me:
Let see; a penny my supper, a piece of flesh ten-pence;
My bed right nought: let all this expense—
Now, by these bones, I have lost a halfpenny.
Who lay there? my fellow Imagination;
He and I had good communication
Of Sir John and Sybil,
How they were spied in bed together;
And he prayed her oft to come hither,
For to sing lo, le, lo, lowe.
They twain together had good sport;
But at the stews' side I lost a groat:
I trow I shall never i-the.[114]
My fellow promised me here to meet,
But I trow the whoreson be asleep
With a wench somewhere.
How, Imagination, come hither,
And you thrive, I lose a feather;
Beshrew your heart, appear.
IMAGINATION.
What, how, how, who called after me?
FREEWILL.
Come near, ye shall never i-the,
Where have ye be so long?
IMAGINATION.
By God, with me it is all wrong,
I have a pair of sore buttocks,
All in irons was my song,
Even now I sat gyved in a pair of stocks.
FREEWILL.
Cock's passion, and how so?
IMAGINATION.
Sir, I will tell you what I have do:
I met with a wench, and she was fair,
And of love heartily I did pray her,
And so promised her money:
Sir, she winked on me, and said nought,
But by her look I knew her thought;
Then into love's dance we were brought,
That we played the pyrdewy:
I wot not what we did together,
But a knave catchpole nighed us near,
And so did us aspy;
A stripe he gave me, I fled my touch,
And from my girdle he plucked my pouch:
By your leave he left me never a penny:
Lo, nought have I but a buckle,
And yet I can imagine things subtle
For to get money plenty;
In Westminster Hall every term I am,
To me is kin many a great gentleman,
I am knowen in every country;
And I were dead, the lawyers' thrift were lost:
For this will I do, if men would do cost,
Prove right wrong, and all by reason,
And make men lese both house and land,
For all that they can do in a little season,
Peach men of treason privily I can,
And when me list, to hang a true man.
If they will be money tell,
Thieves I can help out of prison,
And into lords' favours I can get me soon,
And be of their privy council.
But, Freewill, my dear brother,
Saw you nought of Hickscorner?
He promised me to come hither.
FREEWILL.
Why, sir, knowest thou him?
IMAGINATION.
Yea, yea, man; he is full nigh of my kin,
And in Newgate we dwelled together;
For he and I were both shackled in a fetter.
FREEWILL.
Sir, lay you beneath or on high on the seller?[115]
IMAGINATION.
Nay, i-wis, among the thickest of yeomen of the collar.[116]
FREEWILL.
By God, then you were in great fear.
IMAGINATION.
Sir, had I not been, two hundred had been thrust in an halter.
FREEWILL.
And what life have they there, all that great sort?
IMAGINATION.
By God, sir, once a year some taw halts of Burport:[117]
Yea, at Tyburn there standeth the great frame.
And some take a fall that maketh their neck lame.
FREEWILL.
Yea, but can they then go no more?
IMAGINATION.
Oh, no, man; the wrest is twist so sore,
For as soon as they have said In manus tuas once,
By God, their breath is stopped at once.
FREEWILL.
Why, do they pray in that place there?
IMAGINATION.
Yea, sir, they stand in great fear,
And so fast tangled in that snare,
It falleth to their lot to have the same share.
FREEWILL.
That is a knavish sight to see them totter on a beam.
IMAGINATION.
Sir, the whoresons could not convey[118] clean;
For, and they could have carried by craft as I can,
In process of years each of them should be a gentleman.
Yet as for me I was never thief;
If my hands were smitten off, I can steal with my teeth;
For ye know well, there is craft in daubing:[119]
I can look in a man's face and pick his purse,
And tell new tidings that was never true, i-wis,
For my hood is all lined with lesing.[120]
FREEWILL.
Yea, but went ye never to Tyburn a pilgrimage?
IMAGINATION.
No, i-wis; nor none of my lineage,
For we be clerks all, and can our neck verse,
And with an ointment the judge's hand I can grease,
That will heal sores that be incurable.
FREEWILL.
Why, were ye never found reprovable?
IMAGINATION.
Yes, once I stall a horse in the field,
And leapt on him for to have ridden my way:
At the last a baily me met and beheld,
And bad me stand; then was I in a fray:
He asked, whither with that horse I would gone;
And then I told him it was mine own:
He said I had stolen him; and I said nay:
This is, said he, my brother's hackney.
For, and I had not excused me, without fail,
By our lady, he would have lad me straight to jail;
And then I told him the horse was like mine,
A brown bay, a long mane, and did halt behine,
Thus I told him, that such another horse I did lack;
And yet I never saw him, nor came on his back:
So I delivered him the horse again.
And when he was gone, then was I fain:
For and I had not excused me the better,
I know well I should have danced in a fetter.
FREEWILL.
And said he no more to thee but so?
IMAGINATION.
Yea, he pretended me much harm to do;
But I told him that morning was a great mist,
That what horse it was I ne wist:
Also I said, that in my head I had the megrin,
That made me dazzle so in mine eyen,
That I might not well see.
And thus he departed shortly from me.
FREEWILL.
Yea, but where is Hickscorner now?
IMAGINATION.
Some of these young men hath hid him in
Their bosoms, I warrant ye:
Let us make a cry, that he may us hear.
FREEWILL.
How now, Hickscorner, appear;
I trow thou be hid in some corner.