The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 09
'Sire Dowel dwelleth,' quod Wit, 'noght a day hennes
In a castel that Kynde made of foure kynnes thynges.
Of erthe and eyr is it maad, medled togideres,
With wynd and with water wittily enjoyned.
Kynde hath closed therinne craftily withalle
A lemman that he loveth lik to hymselve.
Anima she hatte; [to hir hath envye]
A proud prikere of Fraunce, Princeps huius mundi,
And wolde wynne hire awey with wiles and he myghte.
'Ac Kynde knoweth this wel and kepeth hire the bettre,
And hath doon hire with Sire Dowel, Duc of thise marches.
Dobet is hire damyselle, Sire Doweles doughter,
To serven this Iady leelly bothe late and rathe.
Dobest is above bothe, a bisshopes peere;
That he bit moot be do - he [bidd]eth hem alle.
[By his leryng] is lad [that lady Anima].
'Ac the Constable of that castel, that kepeth [hem alle],
Is a wis knyght withalle - Sire Inwit he hatte,
And hath fyve faire sones by 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 [alle].
Thise sixe ben set to save this lady Anima
Til Kynde come or sende to kepen hire hymselve.'
'What kynnes thyng is Kynde?' quod, 'kanstow me telle?'
' Kynde,' quod Wit, 'is 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, of lisse and of peyne.
Aungeles and alle thyng arn at his wille,
Ac man is hym moost lik of marc and of shape.
For thorugh the word that he [warp] woxen forth beestes
Dixit et facta sunt.
'A[c] he made man [moost] li[k] to hymself,
And Eve of his ryb bon withouten any mene.
For he was synguler hymself and seide Eaciamus -
As who seith, '' Moore moot herto than my word oone
My myght moot helpe now with my speche.''
Right as a lord sholde make lettres, and hym lakked [no] parchemyn,
Though he [wiste] write never so wel, if he hadde no penne,
The lettre, for al the lordshipe, I leve were nevere ymaked!
'And so it semeth [there he seide, as the Bible telleth,
Faciamus hominem ad imaginem nostram] -
He moste werche with his word and his wit shewe.
And in this manere was man maad thorugh myght of God almyghty,
With his word and werkmanshipe and with lif to laste.
And thus God gaf hym a goost, of the godhede of hevene,
And of his grete grace graunted hym blisse -
And that is lif that ay shal laste to al his lynage after.
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poem by William Langland
Added by Poetry Lover
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