human
For-thi dred delitable drynke, And thow shalt do the bettre. 530 Mesure is medicine, Though thow muchel yerne. It is nought al good to the goost That the gut asketh, Ne liflode to thi likame; For a liere hym techeth, That is the wrecched world Wolde thee bitraye. For the fend and thi flesshe Folwen togidere. 540 This and that seeth thi soule, And seith it in thin herte; And for thow sholdest ben y-war, I wisse thee the beste.
gpt
Madame, mercy! quod I,
human
Me liketh wel youre wordes; Ac the moneie of this molde That men so faste holdeth, Tel me to whom, madame, That tresour appendeth.
gpt
That dongeon in the dale, That dredful is of sighte, What may it be to meene, Madame, I yow biseche?
human
That is the castel of Care; Who so comth therinne May banne that he born was, To bodi or to soule. Therinne wonyeth a wight {19} That Wrong is y-hote, Fader of falshede, And founded it hymselve. Adam and Eve He egged to ille; 590 Counseilled Kaym To killen his brother; Judas he japed With Jewen silver, And sithen on an eller Hanged hymselve. He is lettere of love, And lieth hem alle That trusten on his tresour; Bitrayeth he hem sonnest.