"And com to Noe anon, And bad hym noght lette: 'Swith go shape a ship Of shides and of bordes; Thyself and thi sones, And sithen youre wyves, Busketh yow to that boot, 5440 And bideth ye therinne, Til fourty daies be fulfild, That the flood have y-wasshen Clene awey the corsed blood That Caym hath y-maked.
"'Beestes that now ben Shul banne the tyme That evere that cursed Caym { 168} Coom on this erthe; Alle shul deye for hise dedes, 5450 By dales and by hulles, And the foweles that fleen Forth with othere beestes, Excepte oonliche Of ech kynde a couple, That in thi shyngled ship Shul ben y-saved.' Here a-boughte the barn The bel-sires giltes, And alle for hir fadres 5460 Thei ferden the werse; The Gospel is her ayein, In o degré, I fynde: _Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris, et pater non portabit iniquitatem filii, etc._
"Ac I fynde if the fader Be fals and a sherewe, That som del the sone Shal have the sires tacches. 5470
"Impe on an ellere, And if thyn appul be swete, Muchel merveille me thynketh; And moore of a sherewe That bryngeth forth any barn, But if he be the same, And have a savour after the sire; Selde sestow oother. _Nunquam colligitur de spinis uva, nec de tribulis ficus._ 5480
"And thus thorugh cursed Caym Cam care upon erthe; { 169} And al for thei wroghte wedlokes Ayein Goddes wille. For-thi have thei maugré of hir mariages That marie so hir children. For some, as I se now, Sooth for to telle, For coveitise of catel Un-kyndely ben wedded; 5490 As careful concepcion Cometh of swiche mariages, As bi-fel of the folk That I bifore of tolde, Therfore goode sholde wedde goode, Though thei no good hadde; 'I am _via et veritas_,' seith Crist, 'I may avaunce yow alle.'
"It is an uncomly couple, By Crist! as me thynketh, 5500 To yeven a yong wenche To an old feble, Or wedden any wodewe For welthe of hir goodes, That nevere shal barn bere But if it be in hir armes. Many a peire, sithen the pestilence, Han plight hem togideres, The fruyt that brynge forth Arn foule wordes, 5510 In jelousie joye-lees, And janglynge on bedde, Have thei no children but cheeste, And clappyng hem bitwene. And though thei do hem to Dunmowe, But if the devel helpe, { 170} To folwen after the flicche, Fecche thei it nevere; And but thi bothe be for-swore, That bacon thei tyne. 5520