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Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely, Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte. Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely, Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte.
Herodes, (who-so wel the stories soghte), Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste, Right at his owene table he yaf his heste To sleen the Baptist Iohn ful giltelees. Herodes, (who-so wel the stories soghte), Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste, Right at his owene table he yaf his heste To sleen the Baptist Iohn ful giltelees.
Senek seith eek a good word doutelees; He seith, he can no difference finde Bitwix a man that is out of his minde And a man which that is dronkelewe, But that woodnesse, y-fallen in a shrewe, Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. O glotonye, ful of cursednesse, O cause first of our confusioun, O original of our dampnacioun, Til Crist had boght us with his blood agayn! Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; Corrupt was al this world for glotonye! Senek seith eek a good word doutelees; He seith, he can no difference finde Bitwix a man that is out of his minde And a man which that is dronkelewe, But that woodnesse, y-fallen in a shrewe, Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. O glotonye, ful of cursednesse, O cause first of our confusioun, O original of our dampnacioun, Til Crist had boght us with his blood agayn! Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; Corrupt was al this world for glotonye!
Adam our fader, and his wyf also, Fro Paradys to labour and to wo Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede; For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradys; and whan that he Eet of the fruyt defended on the tree, Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! O, wiste a man how many maladyes Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, He wolde been the more mesurable Of his diete, sittinge at his table. Allas! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, Maketh that, Est and West, and North and South, In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke! Of this matere, o Paul, wel canstow trete, ‘Mete unto wombe, and wombe eek unto mete, Shal God destroyen bothe,’ as Paulus seith. Allas! a foul thing is it, by my feith, To seye this word, and fouler is the dede, Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and rede, That of his throte he maketh his privee, Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee. Adam our fader, and his wyf also, Fro Paradys to labour and to wo Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede; For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradys; and whan that he Eet of the fruyt defended on the tree, Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! O, wiste a man how many maladyes Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, He wolde been the more mesurable Of his diete, sittinge at his table. Allas! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, Maketh that, Est and West, and North and South, In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke! Of this matere, o Paul, wel canstow trete, ‘Mete unto wombe, and wombe eek unto mete, Shal God destroyen bothe,’ as Paulus seith. Allas! a foul thing is it, by my feith, To seye this word, and fouler is the dede, Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and rede, That of his throte he maketh his privee, Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee.

Original Text

Modern Text

Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely, Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte. Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely, Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte.
Herodes, (who-so wel the stories soghte), Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste, Right at his owene table he yaf his heste To sleen the Baptist Iohn ful giltelees. Herodes, (who-so wel the stories soghte), Whan he of wyn was replet at his feste, Right at his owene table he yaf his heste To sleen the Baptist Iohn ful giltelees.
Senek seith eek a good word doutelees; He seith, he can no difference finde Bitwix a man that is out of his minde And a man which that is dronkelewe, But that woodnesse, y-fallen in a shrewe, Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. O glotonye, ful of cursednesse, O cause first of our confusioun, O original of our dampnacioun, Til Crist had boght us with his blood agayn! Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; Corrupt was al this world for glotonye! Senek seith eek a good word doutelees; He seith, he can no difference finde Bitwix a man that is out of his minde And a man which that is dronkelewe, But that woodnesse, y-fallen in a shrewe, Persevereth lenger than doth dronkenesse. O glotonye, ful of cursednesse, O cause first of our confusioun, O original of our dampnacioun, Til Crist had boght us with his blood agayn! Lo, how dere, shortly for to sayn, Aboght was thilke cursed vileinye; Corrupt was al this world for glotonye!
Adam our fader, and his wyf also, Fro Paradys to labour and to wo Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede; For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradys; and whan that he Eet of the fruyt defended on the tree, Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! O, wiste a man how many maladyes Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, He wolde been the more mesurable Of his diete, sittinge at his table. Allas! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, Maketh that, Est and West, and North and South, In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke! Of this matere, o Paul, wel canstow trete, ‘Mete unto wombe, and wombe eek unto mete, Shal God destroyen bothe,’ as Paulus seith. Allas! a foul thing is it, by my feith, To seye this word, and fouler is the dede, Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and rede, That of his throte he maketh his privee, Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee. Adam our fader, and his wyf also, Fro Paradys to labour and to wo Were driven for that vyce, it is no drede; For whyl that Adam fasted, as I rede, He was in Paradys; and whan that he Eet of the fruyt defended on the tree, Anon he was out-cast to wo and peyne. O glotonye, on thee wel oghte us pleyne! O, wiste a man how many maladyes Folwen of excesse and of glotonyes, He wolde been the more mesurable Of his diete, sittinge at his table. Allas! the shorte throte, the tendre mouth, Maketh that, Est and West, and North and South, In erthe, in eir, in water men to-swinke To gete a glotoun deyntee mete and drinke! Of this matere, o Paul, wel canstow trete, ‘Mete unto wombe, and wombe eek unto mete, Shal God destroyen bothe,’ as Paulus seith. Allas! a foul thing is it, by my feith, To seye this word, and fouler is the dede, Whan man so drinketh of the whyte and rede, That of his throte he maketh his privee, Thurgh thilke cursed superfluitee.