Piers Plowman - Maybe You Like It

3.076: Maires and maceres, that menes ben bitwene
3.077: The kyng and the comune to kepe the lawes,
3.078: To punysshe on pillories and on pynynge stooles
3.079: Brewesters and baksters, bochiers and cokes —
3.080: For thise are men on this molde that moost harm wercheth
3.081: To the povere peple that parcelmele buggen.
3.082: For thei poisone the peple pryveliche and ofte,
3.083: Thei richen thorugh regratrie and rentes hem biggen
3.084: With that the povere peple sholde putte in hire wombe.
3.085: For toke thei on trewely, thei tymbred nought so heighe,
3.086: Ne boughte none burgages — be ye ful certeyne!
3.087: Ac Mede the mayde the mair h[eo] bisought[e]
3.088: Of alle swiche selleris silver to take,
3.089: Or presents withouten pens — as pieces of silver,
3.090: Rynges or oother richesse the regratiers to mayntene.
3.091: " For my love,' quod that lady, love hem echone,
3.092: And suffre hem to selle somdel ayeins reson.'
3.093: Salamon the sage a sermon he made
3.094: For to amenden maires and men that kepen lawes,
3.095: And tolde hem this teme that I telle thynke:
3.095: Ignis devorabit tabernacula eorum qui libenter accipiunt munera, &c.
3.096: Among thise lettrede leodes this Latyn is to mene
3.097: That fir shall falle and [for]brenne al to bloo askes
3.098: The houses and the homes of hem that desireth
3.100: Yiftes or yeresyeves because of hire offices.
3.101: The Kyng fro counseil cam, and called after Mede,
3.102: And ofsente hire as swithe with sergeaunts manye
3.103: That broughte hire to boure with blisse and with joye.
3.104: Curteisly the Kyng thanne comsed to telle;
3.105: To Mede the mayde he melleth thise wordes:
3.106: " Unwittily, womman, wroght hastow ofte;
3.107: Ac worse wroghtest thow nevere than tho thow Fals toke.
3.108: But I forgyve thee that gilt, and graunte thee my grace;
3.109: Hennes to thi deeth day do so na moore!
3.110: I have a knyght, Conscience, cam late fro biyonde;
3.111: If he wilneth thee to wif, wiltow hym have?'
3.112: "Ye, Iord,' quod that lady, " Lord forbede it ellis!
3.113: But I be holly at youre heste, lat hange me soone!'
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