_Passus Nonus de Visione, ut supra, et Primus de Do-wel_
"Sire Do-wel dwelleth," quod Wit, 5154 "Noght a day hennes, In a castel that Kynde made Of four kynnes thynges; Of erthe and of eyr it is maad, Medled togideres, With wynd and with water 5160 Witterly enjoyned. Kynde hath closed therinne Craftily withalle A lemman that he loveth Lik to hymselve; _Anima_ she hatte. Ac envye hir hateth, A proud prikere of Fraunce, _Princeps hujus mundi_, And wolde wynne hire awey 5170 With wiles, and he myghte.
"Ac Kynde knoweth this wel, And kepeth hire the bettre, And dooth hire with sire Do-wel, Is duc of thise marches.
"Do-bet is hire damyselle, Sire Do-weles doughter, { 160} To serven this lady leelly Bothe late and rathe.
"Do-best is above bothe, 5180 A bisshopes peere; That he bit moot be do, He ruleth hem alle. _Anima_, that lady, Is lad by his leryng. Ac the constable of that castel, That kepeth al the wacche, Is a wis knyght withalle, Sire Inwit he hatte, And hathe fyve faire sones 5190 Bi his firste wyve; Sire Se-wel, and Sey-wel, And Here-wel the hende, Sire Werch-wel-with-thyn-hand, A wight man of strengthe, And sire Godefray Go-wel; Grete lordes, for sothe. Thise fyve ben set To kepe this lady _Anima_, Til Kynde come or sende 5200 To saven hire for evere."
"What kynnes thyng is Kynde?" quod I, "Kanstow me telle?"
"Kynde," quod Wit, "is a creatour Of alle kynnes thynges, Fader and formour Of al that evere was maked; And that is the grete God That gynnyng hadde nevere, Lord of lif and of light, 5210 Of lisse and of peyne. { 161} Aungeles and alle thyng Arn at his wille; Ac man is hym moost lik Of marc and of shafte; For thorugh the word that he spak Woxen forth beestes. _Dixit et facta sunt._
"And made man likkest To hymself one, 5220 And Eve of his ryb-bon, Withouten any mene, For he was synguler hymself; And seide _faciamus_, As who seith moore moot herto Than my word oone, My myght moot helpe Forth with my speche. Right as a lord sholde make lettres, And hym lakked parchemyn, 5230 Though he koude write never so wel, If he hadde no penne, The lettre, for al the lordshipe, I leve were nevere y-maked.
"And so it semeth by hym, As the Bible telleth, There he seide _Dixit et facta sunt_, He moste werche with his word, And his wit shewe. And in this manere was man maad, 5240 Thorugh myght of God almighty, With his word and werkmanshipe, And with lif to laste. And thus God gaf hym a goost, Thorugh the godhede of hevene, { 162} And of his grete grace Graunted hym blisse, And that is lif that ay shal laste To al his lynage after. And that is the castel that Kynde made, 5250 _Caro_ it hatte, And is as muche to mene As man with a soule; And that he wroghte with werk, And with word bothe, Thorgh myght of the magesté Man was y-maked.