YOUTH.
Why, knave, what is that to thee?
Wilt thou let[6] me to praise my body?
Why should I not praise it, and it be goodly?
I will not let for thee.
CHARITY.
What shall it be, when thou shalt flit
Fro thy wealth into the pit?
Therefore of it be not too bold,
Lest thou forethink[7] it, when thou art old:
Ye may be likened to a tree,
In youth flourishing with royalty,
And in age it is cut down,
And to the fire is thrown:
So shalt thou, but thou amend,
Be burned in hell without end!
YOUTH.
Ye whoreson, trowest thou so?
Beware, lest thou thither go!
Hence, caitiff, go thy way,
Or with my dagger I shall thee slay!
Hence, knave, out of this place,
Or I shall lay thee on the face!
Sayest thou that I shall go to hell,
For evermore there to dwell?
I had liever thou had evil fare.[8]
CHARITY.
Ah, yet, sir, do by my reed,
And ask mercy for thy misdeed,
And thou shalt be an heritor of bliss,
Where all joy and mirth is;
Where thou shalt see a glorious sight
Of angels singing, with saints bright,
Before the face of God.
YOUTH.
What, sirs, above the sky?
I had need of a ladder to climb so high!
But what, and the ladder slip?
Then I am deceived yet,
And if I fall, I catch a queck;
I may fortune to break my neck,
And that joint is ill to set:
Nay, nay, not so.
CHARITY.
Oh, yet remember, and call to thy mind,
The mercy of God passeth all thing.
For it is written by noble clerks,
The mercy of God passeth all works;
That witnesseth Holy Scripture, saying thus:
Miseratio domini super omnia opera ejus:
Therefore doubt not God's grace;
Thereof is plenty in every place.
YOUTH.
What, methink ye be clerkish,
For ye speak good gibb'rish!
Sir, I pray you, and you have any store,
Soil[9] me a question, ere ye cast any more,
Lest when your cunning is all done,
My question have no solution.
Sir, and it please you this,
Why do men eat mustard with salt fish?
Sir, I pray you soil me this question
That I have put to your discretion.
CHARITY.
This question is but a vanity;
It longeth not to me
Such questions to assoil.
YOUTH.
Sir, by God, that me dear bought,
I see your cunning is little or nought;
And I should follow your school,
Soon ye would make me a fool!
Therefore crake no longer here,
Lest I take you on the ear,
And make your head to ache!
CHARITY.
Sir, it falleth not for me to fight,
Neither by day, ne by night;
Therefore do by my counsel, I say,
Then to heaven thou shalt have thy way.