"I Gloton," quod the grom, "Gilty me yelde, That I have trespased with my tonge, I kan noght telle how ofte; Sworen Goddes soule, And so me God helpe! There no nede was, Nyne hundred tymes.
"And over-seyen me at my soper, And som tyme at nones, 3230 That I Gloton girte it up Er I hadde gon a myle, An y-spilt that myghte be spared And spended on som hungry; Over delicatly on fastyng-dayes Dronken and eten bothe, And sat som tyme so longe there, { 100} That I sleep and eet at ones. For love of tales in tavernes And for drynke, the moore I dyned; 3240 And hyed to the mete er noon, Whan fastyng-days were."
"This shewynge shrift," quod Repentaunce, "Shal be meryt to the."
And thanne gan Gloton greete, And gret doel to make, For his luther lif That he lyved hadde; And avowed to faste, "For hunger or for thurste, 3250 Shal nevere fyssh on Fryday Defyen in my wombe, Til abstinence myn aunte Have gyve me leeve; And yet have I hated hire Al my lif tyme."
Thanne cam Sleuthe al bi-slabered, With two slymy eighen; "I moste sitte," seide the segge, "Or ellis sholde I nappe. 3260 I may noght stonde ne stoupe, Ne withoute a stool knele; Were I brought a-bedde, But if my tail-ende it made, Sholde no ryngynge do me ryse Er I were ripe to dyne." He bigan Benedicite with a bolk, And his brest knokked, And raxed and rored, And rutte at the laste. 3270 { 101}
"What, awake, renk!" quod Repentaunce, "And rape thee to shryfte."
"If I sholde deye bi this day, Me list nought to loke; I kan noght parfitly my pater-noster, As the preest it syngeth; But I kan rymes of Robyn Hood, And Randolf erl of Chestre; Ac neither of oure Lord ne of oure Lady The leeste that evere was maked. 3280
"I have maad avowes fourty, And foryete hem on the morwe; I perfournede nevere penaunce As the preest me highte; Ne right sory for my synnes Yet was I nevere. And if I bidde any bedes, But if it be in wrathe, That I telle with my tonge Is two myle fro myn herte. 3290 I am ocupied eche day, Haly-day and oother, With ydel tales at the ale, And outher while at chirche; Goddes peyne and his passion Ful selde thenke I on it.
"I visited nevere feble men, Ne fettred folk in puttes; I have levere here an harlotrye, Or a somer game of souters, 3300 Or lesynge to laughen at And bi-lye my neghebores, Than al that evere Marc made, { 102} Mathew, Johan, and Lucas. And vigilies and fastyng-dayes, Alle thise late I passe; And ligge a-bedde in Lenten, And my lemman in myne armes, Til matyns and masse be do, And thanne go to the freres. 3310 Come I to _Ite, missa est_, I holde me y-served; I nam noght shryven som tyme, But if siknesse it make, Nought twyes in two yer, And thanne up gesse I shryve me.