Which ofte hath set this world unevene,
P. i. 280
And cleped is the cruel Ire,
Whos herte is everemore on fyre
To speke amis and to do bothe,
For his servantz ben evere wrothe.
Mi goode fader, tell me this:
What thing is Ire?
Sone, it is 20
That in oure englissh Wrathe is hote,