I-liche wel, whan thay han al y-do;
This is to sayn, thay fayle bothe tuo.
Yet forgat I to make rehersayle
Of watres corosif, and of lymayle,
And of bodyes mollificacioun,
And also of here enduracioun,
Oyles ablucioun, and metal fusible,
To tellen al, wold passen eny bible
That o wher is; wherfore, as for the best,
Of alle these names now wil I me rest;
For, as I trowe, I have yow told y-nowe
To reyse a feend, al loke he never so rowe,'
A, nay, let be; the philosophre stoon,"
Elixir clept, we sechen fast echoon,

For had we him, than were we syker y-nough;
But unto God of heven I make avow,
For al oure craft, whan we han al y-do,
And al oure sleight, he wol not come us to.
He hath i-made us spende moche good,
For sorwe of which almost we wexen wood,
But that good hope crepeth in oure herte,
Supposing ever, though we sore smerte,
To ben relieved by him after-ward.
Such supposing and hope is scharp and hard.
I warne you wel it is to seken ever.
That future temps hath made men dissevere,
In trust therof, from al that ever they hadde.
Yet of that art thay conne nought wexe sadde,

1 The Yeman says, All these hard names which I have told you have enough of conjuring power in them to be sufficient to raise a devil, however rough he may look.'

2 These occult sciences were imported, together with many true principles of natural philosophy, from Arabia. Jeber, an Arab philosopher, who flourished in the seventh century, wrote a book entitled Lapis Philosophorum, of which Boerhaave declares that, except the fancies about the philosopher's stone, the exactness of the experiments described has been proved by modern discoveries.-Hist. Chemistry, pp. 14, 15. Lond. 1727. To the prevalent belief in the virtues of the philosopher's stone Falstaff alludes in a Henry IV., Act iii., sc. 2.

For unto hem it is a bitter swete;

So semeth it; for nad thay but a scheete
Which thay mighte wrappe hem in a-night,
And a bak1 to walke inne by day-light,

They wolde hem selle, and spenden on this craft;
Thay can nought stinte, til no thing be laft.
And evermore, wher that ever they goon,
Men may hem knowe by smel of bremstoon;
For al the world thay stynken as a goot;
Her savour is so rammyssch and so hoot,
That though a man fro hem a myle be,
The savour wol infecte him, trusteth me.
Lo, thus by smellyng and by thred-bare array,
If that men list, this folk they knowe may.
And if a man wol aske hem prively,
Why thay ben clothed so unthriftily,
Right anoon thay wol rounen in his eere,
And say, if that thay espied were,

Men wold hem slee, bycause of here science;
Lo, thus this folk bytrayen innocence.
Passe over this, I go my tale unto.
Er than the pot be on the fuyr y-do
Of metals with a certeyn quantite,
My lord hem tempreth, and no man but he;
(Now he is goon, I dar say boldely)
For as men sayn, he can doon craftily;
Algate I wot wel he hath such a name,
And yet ful ofte he renneth in blame;

And wite ye how? ful ofte it happeth so,
The pot to breketh,2 and farwel, al is goo.

1 For bak Tyrwhitt reads bratt, a word still used in Scotland, and meaning rag. [The word bak, however, is correct. It signifies a cloak as well as a man's back, and occurs in that sense at least twice in Piers the Plowman, e.g., 'owre bakkes that moth-eten be.'-W. W.S]

2 [To-breketh, 'bursts in pieces.'-W. W.S.]

D 2

These metals been of so gret violence,
Oure walles may not make hem resistence,
But if thay were wrought of lym and stoon;
Thay percen so, that thurgh the wal thay goon;
And some of hem synken into the grounde,
(Thus have we lost by tymes many a pounde),
And some are skatered al the floor aboute;
Some lepe into the roof, withouten doute.
Though that the feend nought in oure sight him
schewe,

I trowe that he with us be,' that schrewe;

In helle, wher that he is lord and sire,
Nis ther no more woo, ne anger, ne ire.
Whan that oure pot is broke, as I have sayd,
Every man chyt, and halt him evel apayde.
Som sayd it was long" on the fuyr-makyng;
Some sayde nay, it was on the blowyng;
(Than was I ferd, for that was myn office).
Straw!' quod the thridde, 'ye been lewed and nyce,
It was nought tempred as it oughte be.'
'Nay,' quod the ferthe, 'stynt and herkne me;
Bycause oure fuyr was nought y-maad of beech,
That is the cause, and other noon, so theech.'
I can not telle wheron it was long,
But wel I woot gret stryf is us among.

'What?' quod my lord, 'ther is no more to doone,
Of these periles I wol be war eftsoone.
I am right siker, that the pot was crased.
Be as be may, be ye no thing amased.
As usage is, let swoope the floor as swithe;
Pluk up your hertes and beth glad and blithe.'

1 There cannot be in hell more sorrow and fury than there is some. times among transmuters of metals when their experiments fail; therefore, the yeman concludes, the devil must be present with them.

2 This mode of expression is still used by the vulgar. It was all along of your awkwardness that I spilled the milk,' is a common phrase. It occurs again a few lines lower down, I cannot telle whereon it was long,' i. e., I cannot tell what was the cause of it, or how it happened.

The mullok on an heep i-swoped was,
And on the floor y-cast a canevas,
And al this mulloc in a syve i-throwe,

And sifted, and y-plukked many a throwe.

Parde,' quod oon, 'somwhat of oure metal

Yet is ther heer, though that we have nought al.
And though this thing myshapped hath as now,
Another tyme it may be wel y-now.

Us moste putte oure good in adventure.
A marchaunt, parde, may not ay endure,
Trusteth me wel, in his prosperite;

Som tyme his good is drowned in the see,
And som tyme cometh it sauf unto the londe.'
'Pees!' quod my lord, 'the nexte tyme I wol fonde'
To bringe oure craft al in another plyte,
And but I do, sires, let me have the wyte;
Ther was defaute in som what, wel I woot.'
Another sayde, the fuyr was over hoot.
But be it hoot or cold, I dar say this,
That we concluden evermor amys;

We faile of that which that we wolden have,
And in oure madnesse evermore we rave.
And whan we ben togideres everichon,
Everiche man semeth a Salamon.

But al thing which that schineth as the gold,
Is nought gold,' as that I have herd told;
Ne every appel that is fair at ye,

Ne is not good, what so men clappe or crye.
Right so, lo, fareth it amonges us.
He that semeth the wisest, by Jesus!
Is most fool, whan it cometh to the preef;
And he that semeth trewest is a theef.

1 I will endeavour to bring our craft, &c.

2 This is from the Parabola of Alanus de Insulis, a Latin poet, who died in 1294:

• Non teneas aurum totum quod splendet ut aurum,
Nec pulchrum pomum quodlibet esse bonum.'-T.

That schul ye knowe, er that I fro yow wende,
By that I of my tale have maad an ende.
Ther is a chanoun of religioun
Amonges us, wold infecte al a toun,
Though it as gret were as was Ninive,
Rome, Alisaundre, Troye, or other thre.
His sleight and his infinite falsnesse
Ther couthe no man writen, as I gesse,
Though that he mighte lyven a thousand yeer;
Of al this world of falsheed nys his peer,
For in his termes he wol him so wynde,
And speke his wordes in so sleygh a kynde,
Whan he comune schal with eny wight,
That he wil make him dote anoon right,
But it a feend be, as him selven is.
Ful many a man hath he bygiled er this,
And wol, if that he lyve may a while;
And yet men ryde and goon ful many a myle
Him for to seeke, and have his aqueintaunce,
Nought knowyng of his false governaunce.
And if yow list to geve me audience,
I wol it telle here in youre presence.
But, worschipful chanouns religious,
Ne demeth not that I sclaundre youre hous,
Although my tale of a chanoun be.
Of every ordre som schrewe is, pardee;
And God forbede that al a companye
Schulde rewe a singuler mannes folye.
To sclaunder yow is no thing myn entent,
But to correcten that is mys I ment.1
This tale was not oonly told for yow,
But eek for other moo; ye woot wel how
That among Cristes apostles twelve

Ther was no traytour but Judas him selve;

'Speght reads―

'But to correct that amisse is ment.'

[Mr. Wright reads mys i-ment, treating i-ment as a past part., but the above is the correct text.-W. W. S.]