Betwen the drunken and the wode,
For thei be nevere nouther goode;[761]
For wher that wyn doth wit aweie,
Wisdom hath lost the rihte weie,
That he no maner vice dredeth;
Nomore than a blind man thredeth
His nedle be the Sonnes lyht,[762]
Nomore is reson thanne of myht, 560
Whan he with drunkeschipe is blent.
And in this point thei weren schent,