Text Box: Pilgrims and palmers • pledged them together 
To seek Saint James • and saints in Rome. 
They went forth on their way • with many wise tales, 
And had leave to lie • all their life after -- 
I saw some that said • they had sought saints: 
Yet in each tale that they told • their tongue turned to lies 
More than to tell truth • it seemed by their speech. 
Hermits, a heap of them • with hooked staves, 
Were going to Walsingham • and their wenches too; 
Big loafers and tall • that loth were to work, 
Dressed up in capes • to be known from others; 
And so clad as hermits • their ease to have. 
I found there friars • of all the four orders, 
Preaching to the people • for profit to themselves, 
Explaining the Gospel • just as they liked, 
To get clothes for themselves • they construed it as they would. 
Many of these master friars • may dress as they will, 
For money and their preaching • both go together. 
For since charity hath been chapman • and chief to shrive lords, 
Many miracles have happened • within a few years. 
Except Holy Church and they • agree better together, 
Great mischief on earth • is mounting up fast. 
There preached a pardoner • as if he priest were: 
He brought forth a brief • with bishops' seals thereon, 
And said that himself • might absolve them all 
From falseness in fasting and of broken vows. 
Laymen believed him • welcomed his words, 
And came up on their knees • to kiss his seals; 
He cozened them with his brevet • dimmed their eyes, 
And with his parchment • got his rings and brooches: 
Thus they gave their gold • gluttons to keep. 
And lend it to such louts • as follow lechery. 
If the bishop were holy • and worth both his ears, 
His seal should not be sent • to deceive the people. 
But a word 'gainst bishop • the knave never preacheth. 
Parish priest and pardoner • share all the silver 
That the parish poor would have • if he were not there. 
Parsons and parish priests • complained to the bishop 
That their parishes were poor • since the pestilence time, 
And asked leave and licence • in London to dwell 
And sing requiems for stipends • for silver is sweet. 

Pilgrymes and palmeres plighten hem togidere
For to seken Seint Jame and seintes at Rome;

Wenten forth in hire wey with many wise tales,
And hadden leve to lyen al hire lif after.
I seigh somme that seiden thei hadde ysought seintes:
To ech a tale that thei tolde hire tonge was tempred to lye
Moore than to seye sooth, it semed bi hire speche.
Heremytes on an heep with hoked staves ,
Wenten to Walsyngham -- and hire wenches after:
Grete lobies and longe that lothe were to swynke
Clothed hem in copes to ben knowen from othere,
And shopen hem heremytes hire ese to have.
I fond there freres, alle the foure ordres,
Prechynge the peple for profit of the wombe:
Glosed the gospel as hem good liked;
For coveitise of copes construwed it as thei wolde.
Manye of thise maistres mowe clothen hem at likyng
For hire moneie and hire marchaundise marchen togideres.
Sith charite hath ben chapman and chief to shryve lordes
Manye ferlies han fallen in a fewe yeres.

But Holy Chirche and hii holde bettre togidres
The mooste meschief on molde is mountynge up faste.
Ther preched a pardoner as he a preest were:
Broughte forth a bulle with bisshopes seles,
And seide that hymself myghte assoillen hem alle
Of falshede of fastynge, of avowes ybroken. -
Lewed men leved hym wel and liked hise wordes,
Comen up knelynge to kissen his bulle.
He bonched hem with his brevet and blered hire eighen,
And raughte with his rageman rynges and broches.

--Thus ye gyven youre gold glotons to helpe,
And leneth it losels that leccherie haunten"
Were the bisshop yblessed and worth bothe his eris,
His seel sholde noght be sent to deceyve the peple.
Ac it is noght by the bisshop that the boy precheth --
For the parisshe preest and the pardoner parten the silver
That the povere [peple] of the parissche sholde have if they ne were.
Persons and parisshe preestes pleyned hem to the bisshop
That hire parisshes weren povere sith the pestilence tyme,
To have a licence and leve at London to dwelle,
And syngen ther for symonie, for silver is swete.

 

Piers Plowman B, Prol 46-86