The Canon's Yeoman's Tale
Folio 227r
19 of 21 folios
For any wit that men han now adayes
Thei mowen wel chitren as that doon iayes
And in hir termes set hir lust and peyne
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But to hir purpos shul thei neuer atteyne
A man may lightly lerne if he haue oghte
To multiplie and brynge his good to noght
¶ Lo swich a lucre is in this lusty game
A mannes myrthe it wol turne in to grame
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And empten also grete and heuy purses
And make folk for to purchasen curses
Hem that han hir good ther to I lent
O fy for shame thei that han be brent
Allas can thei nat fle thi fires hete
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Ye that it vse I rede ye it lete
Lest ye lese al for bet than neuer is late
Neuere to thryue were to longe a date
Thogh ye prolle ay ye shul it neuer fynde
Ye been al bolde as is bayard the blynde
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That bloundreth forth and peril casteth non
He is a bolde to renne ageyn a ston
As for to gon bisides in the wey
So faren ye that multiplie I seye
If that your eyen can nat seen aright
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Loke that your mynde lakke noght his sight
For thogh ye loken neuer so brode and stare
Ye shul no thing wynnen on that chaffare
But wasten al that ye may rape and renne
With drawe the fyr lest it to fast brenne
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Medleth na more with that art I meene
For yif ye doon your thrift is goon ful clene
And right as swithe I wol yow tellen here
What that the Philosophres seyn in this matere
¶ Lo thus seith Arnald of the new toun
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As his Rosarie maketh mencioun
He seith right thus with outen any lie
Ther may no man Mercury mortefie
But it be with his brother knowleching
How that he which that first seide this thing
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Of philosophres fader was hermes