My theme is alwey oon, and evere was—
Radix malorum est Cupiditas.
Of avarice and of swich cursednesse Is al my prechyng, for to make hem free To yeven hir pens, and namely unto me. for myn entente is nat but for to wynne, And nothyng for correccioun of synne.
Me thynketh that it were necessarie For to be war of swich an adversarie. Beth redy for to meete hym overemoore; Thus taught me my dame; I say namoore.
This olde man ful mekely hem grette, And seyde thus, ‘Now, lords, God yow see!’ The proudeste of thise riotoures three Answerde agayn, ‘What, carl, with sory grace! Why artow al forwrapped save thy face? Why lyvestow so longe inso greet age?’
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