Now is Mede the mayde and no mo of hem alle, 
With bedeles and baillies brought bifore the Kyng. 
The Kyng called a clerk - l kan noght his name - 
To take Mede the maide and maken hire at ese. 
I shal assayen hire myself and soothliche appose 
What man of this world that hire were levest. 
And if she werche bi wit and my wil folwe 
I wol forgyven hire this gilt, so me God helpe!' 
Curteisly the clerk thanne, as the Kyng highte, 
Took Mede bi the myddel and broghte hire into chambre. 
Ac ther was murthe and mynstralcie Mede to plese; 
That wonyeth at Westmynstre worshipeth hire alle. 
Gentilliche with joye the justices somme 
Busked hem to the bour ther the burde dwellede, 
Conforted hyre kyndely by Clergies leve, 
And seiden, ' Mourne noght, Mede, ne make thow no sorwe, 
For we wol wisse the Kyng and thi wey shape 
To be wedded at thi wille and wher thee leef liketh 
For al Conscienees cast or craft, as I trowe.' 
Mildely Mede thanne merciede hem alle 

Of hire grete goodnesse - and gaf hem echone 
Coupes of clene gold and coppes of silver, 
Rynges with rubies and richesses manye, 
The Ieeste man of hire meynee a moton of golde. 
Thanne laughte thei leve thise lordes at Mede. 
With that comenclerkes to conforten hire the same, 
And beden hire be blithe - 'For we beth thyne owene 
For to werche thi wille the while thow myght laste.' 
Hendiliche heo thanne bihighte hem the same - 
To loven hem lelly and lordes to make, 
And in the consistorie at the court do callen hire names. 
' Shal no lewednesse lette the clerke that I lovye, 
That he ne worth first avaunced for I am biknowen 
Ther konnynge clerkes shul clokke bihynde.' 
Thanne cam ther a confessour coped as a frere; 
To Mede the mayde [mekeliche he loutede] 
And seide ful softely, in shrift as it were, 
'Theigh lewed men and lered men hadde leyen by thee bothe. 
And Falshede hadde yfolwed thee alle thise fifty wynter, 
I shal assoille thee myself for a seem of whete, 
And also be thi bedeman, and bere wel thyn er[ende], 
Amonges knyghtes and clerkes, Conscience to torne. 
Thanne Mede for hire mysdedes to that man kneled, 
And shrof hire of hire sherewednesse - shamelees, I trowe; 
Tolde hym a tale and took hym a noble 
For to ben hire bedeman and hire brocour als. 
Thanne he assoiled hire soone and sithen he seide, 
' We have a wyndow in werchynge, wole stonden us ful hye; 
Woldestow glaze that gable and grave therinne thy name, 
Sykir sholde thi soule be hevene to have.' 
' Wiste I that,' quod the womman,-I wolde noght spare 
For to be youre frend, frere, and faile yow nevere 
While ye love lordes that lecherie haunten 
And lakketh noght ladies that loven wel the same. 

It is a freletee of flessh - ye fynden it in bokes - 
And a cours of kynde. wherof we comen alle. 
Who may scape the sclaundre, the scathe is soone amended; 
It is synne of the sevene sonnest relessed. 
Have mercy,' quod Mede, of men that it haunteth 
And I shal covere youre kirk, youre cloistre do maken, 
Wowes do whiten and wyndowes glazen, 
Do peynten and portraye [who paied] for the makynge, 
That every segge shall see I am suster of youre house.' 
Ac God to alle good folk swich gravynge defendeth - 
To writen in wyndowes of hir wel dedes - 
An aventure pride be peynted there, and pomp of the world; 
For God knoweth thi conscience and thi kynde wille, 
And thi cost and thi coveitise and who the catel oughte. 
Forthi I lere yow lordes, leveth swiche w[rityng]es - 
To writen in wyndowes of youre wel dedes 
Or to greden after Goddes men whan ye [gyve] doles, 
On aventure ye have youre hire here and youre hevene als. 
Nesciat sinsitra quid faciat dextra
Lat noght thi left half, late ne rathe, 
Wite what thow werchest with thi right syde - 
For thus bit the Gospel goode men doon hir almesse. 
Maires and maceres, that menes ben bitwene 
The kyng and the comune to kepe the lawes, 
To punysshe on pillories and on pynynge stooles 
Brewesters and baksters, bochiers and cokes - 
For thise are men on this molde that moost harm wercheth 
To the povere peple that parcelmele buggen. 
For thei poisone the peple pryveliche and ofte, 

Thei richen thorugh regratrie and rentes hem biggen 
With that the povere peple sholde putte in hire wombe. 
For toke thei on trewely, thei tymbred nought so heighe, 
Ne boughte none burgages - be ye ful certeyne! 
Ac Mede the mayde the mair h[eo] bisought[e] 
Of alle swiche selleris silver to take, 
Or presents withouten pens - as pieces of silver, 
Rynges or oother richesse the regratiers to mayntene. 
' For my love,' quod that lady, love hem echone, 
And suffre hem to selle somdel ayeins reson.' 
Salamon the sage a sermon he made 
For to amenden maires and men that kepen lawes, <