Society and the World

Ther nys no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily; This wol be doon at leyser parfitly.

Ye been oure lord, dooth with youre owene thyng Right as yow list.

Looke who that is moost vertuous alway, Pryvee and apert, and most entendeth ay To do the gentil dedes that he kan; Taak hym for the grettest gentil man.

That he is gentil that dooth gentil dedis.

“My lige lady, generally,” quod he, “Wommen desiren have sovereynetee As well over hir housbond as hir love.”

Greet prees at market maketh deere ware, And to greet cheep is holde at litel prys.

The gretteste clerkes been noght the wisest men.

This world nys but a thurghfare ful of wo, And we been pilgrymes, passing to and fro. Deeth is an ende of every worldly soore.

But Cristes loore and his apostles twelve He taughte, but first he folwed it hymselve.

If gold ruste, what shal iren do?

If gold ruste, what shal iren do?

This noble ensample to his sheep he yaf, That first he wroghte, and afterward he taughte.

For gold in phisik is a cordial, Therefore he lovede gold in special.

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.

For hym was levere have at his beddes heed Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed, Of Aristotle and his philosophie, Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrie, But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre.

For hym was levere have at his beddes heed Twenty bookes, clad in blak or reed, Of Aristotle and his philosophie, Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrie, But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre.

A Clerk ther was of Oxenford also.

He knew the tavernes wel in every toun.

For out of olde feldes, as men seyth, Cometh al this newe corn fro yer to yere; 2 And out of olde bokes, in good feyth, Cometh al this newe science that men lere.

The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne, Th’ assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge.

The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne, Th’ assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge.

Our concern be peace of mind: some old crone let us seek, To spit on us for luck and keep unlovely things afar.

A woman’s time of opportunity is short, and if she doesn’t seize it, no one wants to marry her, and she sits watching for omens.

Full of wiles, full of guile, at all times, in all ways, Are the children of Men. 3