“I am ready to stay as you say,” Reason said,
“Provided that Conscience is kept in your council.”
“God forbid else. I agree that together
195 We’ll live out our lives,” said the King, “while they last.”
1In Skeat, this line is only found in the C version.
2Romans iii 16–18.
3Franciscans were in fact expressly instructed to go out into society. See Step V, Note 3.
4i.e., Santiago de Compostela.
5There was resentment at the taxes remitted to the papacy, and Dover was the only port of departure permitted to pilgrims.
6The original Latin terms nullum malum and nullum bonum (no evil and no good, here “man of innocence” and “man of guilt”) are taken from Pope Innocent III, De contemptu mundi Book iii Chapter 15.
Step V
In which I awake briefly before seeing my second dream, of Reason preaching to the people about honest work. The Seven Deadly Sins confess their idle selfishness and gross behavior among friars, merchants, money-lenders and drunkards. Repentance persuades them and the people to repent and seek out Truth, and a plowman called Piers gives them directions. A few rogues think these too onerous.
The King and his court then came to church
In the morning to hear both Matins and Mass.
But I woke, still wishing I had witnessed more
And were still fast asleep and seeing dreams,
5 And before I had gone a furlong on foot,
I could venture no further and felt faint again.
So I sat down softly to say my Creed
And recite my rosary, which sent me to sleep.
This time I saw more scenes than I’ve told:
10 The field full of folk the same as before,
But with Reason preparing to preach to the people.
Clutching a cross, he stood by the King
To explain the Plague as the penalty for sin,
And the southwest wind on Saturday since
15 As a parable to people to leave off pride.1
“Pears and plum-trees came purling to earth
As a message to men to mend their ways,
And beeches and oaks were blown right over
And turned up their tails in token of dread
20 That by Doomsday sin will have dragged people down.”
I could easily dilate on this lesson at length
But shall solely say what I saw, God save me!
Pointedly Reason was preaching to the people,
Telling Wastrel to work at what he did best,
25 To earn by some skill the sums that he spent,
And proud-hearted Pru to put off her furs
And keep them in a closet in case of need.
Felicity the scold, he said, should be smacked
By her spouse Tom Stowe as soon as she was ducked,
30 Walt he warned that his wife shouldn’t wear
A half a mark hat while his hood was worth halfpence,
And Bert should cut a stout cane, he decreed,
And wallop young Betsy till she went off and worked.
He charged that merchants should chastise their children:
35 “Don’t spoil them with senseless, excessive spending
Even during the Plague with its depredations.
My father informed me, and my mother confirmed,
That the more a child’s loved, the more he is lectured,
And Solomon said the same in his Wisdom:
He that spareth the rod hateth his son.”2
40 Then Reason prompted prelates and priests
To practice themselves what they preached to the people:
“To do well yourselves you should do good deeds,
For people will believe if you practice what you preach.”
He cautioned the cloistered to keep to their Rule3
45 “Lest the King and his council cut your provisions
And regulate your houses till they’re run correctly.”
He counseled the King to love the commons:
“For those who are true are your treasure in trouble.”
He appealed to the Pope to have pity on the Church,
50 And to govern himself before giving out grants.
“And lawmen, look that you long for the Truth,
Not for gold or gifts, if you wish to please God,
For the Gospel tells you, if you take against Truth:
Amen I say to you, I know you not.4
And seekers after saints in Spain and Rome
55 Should seek Truth instead, for Truth will save you.
Now may peace be among and remain with the people
Who observe my sermon,” Reason said.
Then Repentance appeared and repeated the message,
So that Will’s eyes watered and wept with a will.5
60 Prunella Proudheart fell prostrate and prone,
And lay a long time, till she looked up at last.
“Have mercy, Lord,” she moaned to our Maker,
“I’ll unstitch my shift and put on a hair shirt
To scarify my skin, so fiercely I’ve sinned.
65 My heart shall be humble and haughty no more,
And I’ll suffer in silence base insults and slander,
And be meek and modest and beg for mercy
For all the hatred that has been in my heart.”
Then “Alas,” cried Lust and implored our Lady
70 To intercede for his soul and seek pardon for his sins,
Swearing that on Saturdays for seven years hence
He’d drink what ducks drink and dine only once.6
With heavy heart Envy confessed to his errors.
He cried mea culpa with a countenance of woe,
75 He was pale as limestone and appeared to be palsied,
And was clothed in some stuff I can scarcely describe,
A simple rough shirt with a knife at his side
And a coat with wide sleeves that was cut from a cope.
With his sunken cheeks and his somber scowl
80 He looked like a leek left too long in the sun.
He was bursting with bile and was biting his lip
And flexing his fists as he figured how vengeance
Could some day be won through words or deeds.
Every syllable he spoke was soused in venom,
85 And he lived on sarcasm, slander and sneers,
Back-biting, baiting and bearing false witness:
Such was his style wherever he was seen.
“I should seek to be shriven if it weren’t so shaming,
But by God I smile more if Gil comes to grief
90 Than if I take home a handsome Essex cheese!
There’s a nearby neighbor I’ve often anno
yed;
I’ve denounced him to nobles, who’ve seized his possessions,
And by false accusations made foes of his friends,
For I’m sorry to see him succeed or in luck.
95 I sow such dissension between estates
That it leads to much loss both of life and of limb.
When I meet at market the man I most hate
I hail him heartily as an honored friend—
I daren’t do differently as he’s definitely stronger—
100 But heaven help him if I have him in my power.
When I come to church and should crawl to the cross
And pray for the people as the priest directs,
For pilgrims and palmers and everyone else,
I beg on my knees for a bane on the blighters
105 Who stole an old bowl and a sheet that’s in shreds,
And I turn my eyes from the holy altar
And behold Dame Ellen in an outfit that’s new,
And covet the costume or simply the cloth.
I like it and laugh when folk make a loss,
110 And I weep when they win and bewail the fact.
I say folk are wicked though what I do’s worse,
I hate for ever any person who reproves me,
I assume that everyone ought to serve me,
And I’m angered by anyone wealthier than I.
115 “Thus I live without love like a dog running loose,
My body all bloated with bitter gall.
For years I have fussed and fiddled with my food,
Finding envy and hatred hard to digest.
Must they scour my insides, or can the swelling be eased
120 With a sugary sweetmeat that unseats it from my heart,
Some soothing syrup of contrition or shame?”
Repentance replied that he had such a potion:
“Sorrow for your sins is salvation for your soul.”
“Sorrow?” Envy said. “I’m seldom not sorry
125 For I’m wasting away for want of revenge.
When I lived in London with leading merchants
I appointed Backbite to disparage other produce,
And if I sold nothing and others sold out,
I defamed them and vilified their various goods.
130 But now through God’s power I propose to repent.”
Then Anger awoke with his white eyes wide,
And a dripping nose and a drooping neck.
“I’m Anger,” he affirmed. “I was formerly a friar,
A gardener growing and grafting lies
135 On to brothers who begged and brothers who preached
Till their leaves bent low to flatter great lords,
While in boudoirs they flourished on flighty confessions.
The fruit of my grafting is that folk now prefer
Confiding in a friar to confessing to a priest.
140 So the priests who find that friars are favored
Revile and reproach them when they preach from the pulpit,
And the friars’ defense is to find fault with priests
In the sermons they recite as they stroll about,
While I steal beside them and incite them from books.
145 Thus each speaks of the spirit but despises the other,
Which is how it will be till I’ve beggared them all.
Even should they get rich and ride I won’t rest
For my fate is to follow these scoundrelly folk.
“I’ve an aunt in orders, an abbess in fact,
150 Who would sooner starve than suffer indigestion.
I served as the cook in her convent kitchen
For many long months, and for monks as well.
I made soups for the sisters and other poor souls,
And broths full of bilge, saying Joan was a bastard,
155 Clarissa the kid of a cuckolded count,
And Pru was not prioress thanks to the priest,
Since the chapter all knew of their cherry-time child.
In anger I stewed up such scandalous stuff
That the sisters screamed ‘Lies’ and ‘Liar’ and the like
160 And soundly slapped and smacked each other;
By Christ they’d have killed if they’d carried knives.
I approve of Saint Gregory’s prescript as Pope7
To appoint no prioress a priest for she’d prattle
Confessional secrets and set off more fights.
165 “That said, among monks I am seldom seen,
Since many of them watch for the mischief I make,
Priors, sub-priors and the Abbot in person,
And if I tell tales they talk it over
And force me on Fridays to fast on dry bread;
170 I am charged like a child in the chapter-house
And they beat my bare buttocks with my breeches down!
So I don’t much like to live with those lads,
Where the food is fish and the ale is feeble,
And the once in a while that there’s wine with supper,
175 For five days following I spout out filth,
Spilling the beans about brothers’ abuses
All round the house till everyone’s heard it.”
“Now repent,” said Repentance, “and never repeat
What you’ve learnt through luck by a word or a look.
180 Don’t drink too deeply or delicately either
Lest it rouse your temper and turn it to tantrums.
Be prudent,” he said, and soon absolved me,8
Suggesting I weep at my wicked ways.
Then Covetousness stood there. I can scarcely describe
185 How hungry and hollow Sir Harvey looked.9
He had beetling brows and bloated lips,
And oozing eyes and hanging cheeks
That sagged and swung like pendulous purses,
And a beard bespattered with bacon like a scullion,
190 With a hood and a hat that were home to lice
And a twelve-year-old tabard, Welsh flannel that was tattered
And so threadbare no louse could have lived there for long;
The lice that were left must have landed by chance.
“I have been covetous,” said the culprit, “I declare.
195 For some time I served Master Sim at the Stile,
As apprentice appointed to push up his profits.
I learnt a few lessons about telling lies,
And the first I perfected was to falsify weights.
Then I went to Weyhill and Winchester fairs
200 As my master commanded, with all manner of goods
That would seldom have sold at all, God save us,
�
� If I hadn’t used ruses to be rid of the rubbish.
Then I drifted into drapery and learnt such dodges
As stretching the selvage till it seems far longer,
205 And they taught me the trick of taking striped cloth
And pricking and plaiting the precious stuff together,
Putting it in a press and applying such pressure
That ten or twelve yards are turned to thirteen.
“My wife is a weaver who works in wool.
210 When she settles with the spinners who spin the thread,
The pound weight she pays by is appreciably more
Than my steelyard weighs when I sell things straight.
I buy her barley that she brews for sale,
Thoroughly mixing up thick ale with thin
215 For laborers and lowly folk drinking alone,
While the pure ale is put in the parlor or bedroom
So that those who taste it are tempted to buy
At a groat a gallon, by God, no less,
Though it comes by the cupful, the crafty woman!
220 Racketeer Rosie is really her name;
She’s been diddling and dealing for a decade and more.
But now I swear I shall cease my sinning
And withdraw from cheating and dishonest dealing.
I’ll go to Walsingham, my wife as well,
225 And the Cross of Bromholm, to beg forbearance.”10
“Have you proffered restitution or proper repentance?”
“For sure,” he said, “I shared once with merchants,
And I bounced up and burgled their bags in the night.”
“But that was theft, not making restitution.
230 You ought to be hanged,” Repentance answered,
“For that and the things you’ve already told.”
“I thought ‘restitution’ was the same thing as taking;
I know no French except nonsense from Norfolk.”11
Piers Plowman Page 9
