Fulofte sythe he overthroweth
The Cites and the policie,
That I have herd the poeple crie, 460
P. i. 295
And echon seide in his degre,
‘Ha wicke tunge, wo thee be!’
For men sein that the harde bon,
Althogh himselven have non,
A tunge brekth it al to pieces.
He hath so manye sondri spieces