into accident,
To fulfille al thy glotynous talent.
Out of the harde bones gete thay
The marrow, for thay caste nought away
That may go thurgh the golet softe and sweete;
Of spicery and leeves, for every mete,
Shal be his sause made to his delyt
To make him have a newer appetit.
But certes he that haunteth such delices,
Is deed the whiles that he lyveth in vices.
A lecherous thing is wyn, and dronkenesse
Is ful of stryvyng and of wrecchednesse.
O dronken man, disfigured is thi face,
Sour is thy breth, foul art thou to embrace;
And thurgh thi dronken nose soundeth the soun,
As though thou seydest ay, Samsoún, Samsoún;
And yit, God wot, Samson drank never wyn.
Thou fallist, as it were a stiked swyne;
Thy tonge is lost, and al thin honest cure,
For dronkenes is verray sepulture
Of mannes witt and his discrecioun.
In whom that drynk hath dominacioun.
He can no counseil kepe, it is no drede.
Now keep you from the white and from the rede,
And namely fro the white wyn of Leepe,
That is to selle in Fleetstreet or in Chepe.
This wyn of Spayne crepith subtily
In other wynes growyng faste by,
Of which ther riseth such fumositee,
That whan a man hath dronke draughtes three,
And weneth that he be at hom in Chepe,
He is in Spayne, right at the toun of Lepe,
Nought at Rochelle nor at Burdeaux toun;
And thenne wil thai say, Samsoún, Samsoún.
But herken, lordyngs, o word, I you pray,
That alle the soverayn actes, dar I say,
Of victories in the Olde Testament,
Thorugh the verray God omnipotent
Were doon in abstinence and in prayére;
Look in the Bible, and ther ye may it here.
Loke Attila the grete conqueroúr,
Deyd in his sleep, with shame and díshonoúr,
Bleedyng ay at his nose in dronkenesse;
A captayn shuld ay lyve in sobrenesse.
And over al this, avyse you right wel,
What was comaunded unto Lamuel;
Nought Samuel, but Lamuel say I.
Rede in the Bible, and fynde expressely
Of wyn gevyng to them that have justice.
No more of this, for it may wel suffice.
And now I have i-spoke of glotonye,
Now wil I you forbid al hasardrye.

Hasard is verray moder of lyinges,
And of deceipt and cursed fórsweringes;
Blaspheme of Crist, manslaught, and waste also
Of catel, and of tyme; and forthermo
It is a shame, and contrair to honoúr,
For to be holde a comun hasardour.
And ever the heyer he is of estaat,
The more wil he be holden desolaat,
If that a prince use eny hasardrie,
In alle governance and policie
He is, as by común opinioún,
Holden the lesse in reputacioun.
Stilbon, that was a wis ambasidour,
Was sent unto Corinthe with gret honoúr
Fro Lacidome, to make their alliaúnce;
And whan he cam, him happede par chaunce,
That alle the grettest that were of that lond
Playing at hasard in Corinthe he them fond.
For the which sighte, as soone as it might be,
He stole him hom agein to his contree,
And saide ther, “I wil nought lose my name,
I wil not take on me so gret diffame,
You for to allie unto no hasardoures.
Sende ye other wiser ambasidoures,
For by my trothe, me were rather dye,
Than I you sholde to hasardours allye.
For ye, that be so glorious in honoúres,
Shal not allien you with hasardoures,
As by my wil, nor as by my tretee.”
This wise philosóphre thus sayd he.

Loke eek that to the king Demetrius
The king of Parthes, as the book saith us
Sent him a paire dice of gold in scorn,
For he had usèd hasard ther to-forn;
For which he held his glory and his renoun
At no value or reputacioun.
Lordes maye fynden other maner play
Honest y-nough to dryve away the day.

Now wil I speke of othes fals and grete
A word or tuo, as other bookes trete.
Gret swering is a thing abhominable,
And fals sweríng is more reprovable.
The hyhe God forbad sweryng at al,
Witnes on Mathew; but in special
Of sweryng saith the holy Jeremye,
Thou shalt say sooth thin othes, and not lye;
And swere in judgment, and in rightwisnes;
But ydel sweryng is a cursednes.
Bihold and see, ther in the firste table
Of hihe Goddes heste honurable,
How that the secounde heste of him is this;
Tak not in vaine Goddes name amys.
Lo, he rather forbedith such sweryng,
Than homicide, or many a corsed thing.
I say that in the order thus it stondith;
This knoweth he that the hestes understondeth.
How that the second hest of God is that.
And forthermore, I wil the telle it flat,
The vengance shal not parte fro his hous,
That of his othes is outrageous.
“By Goddis precious hert, and by his nayles,
And by the blood of Christ, that is in Hayles,
Seven is my chaunce, and also five and three!
By Goddes armes, if thou falsly play,
This daggere shal thorough thin herte go!”
This fruyt cometh of the cursed bones tuo,
Forswering, ire, falsnes, homicide.
Now for the love of Crist that for us dyde,
Leve ye youre othis, bothe gret and smale.
But, sirs, now wil I tellen forth my tale.

These rioters, these three, of which I telle,
Longe before prime had rongen eny belle,
Were set them in a tavern for to drynke;
And as thay satte, thay herd a belle clinke
Bifore a corps, was caried to the grave;
That oon of them gan calle unto his knave,
“Go out,” quoth he, “and axe redily,
What corps is that, that passeth here forthby;
And loke that thou reporte his name wel.”
“Sir,” quoth he, “but that nedeth never a del;
It was