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Text:
Another seyde
the fir was over-hoot, --
But, be it hoot or coold, I dar
seye this,
That we concluden everemoore
amys.
We faille of that which that we wolden have,
And in oure madnesse everemoore we rave.
And whan we been togidres
everichoon,
Every man semeth a salomon.
But al thyng which that shineth
as the gold
Nis nat gold, as that I
have herd it told;
Ne every appul that is
fair at eye
Ne is nat good, what so
men clappe or crye.
Right so, lo, fareth it amonges
us:
He that semeth the wiseste,
by jhesus!
Is moost fool, whan it
cometh to the preef;
And he that semeth trewest
is the theef.
That shul ye knowe, er that I fro yow wende,
By that I of my tale have maad an ende.
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Translation:
Another said the fire was far too hot.
But were it hot or cold, I dare say this,
That we concluded evermore amiss.
We fail of that which we desire to have,
And in our madness evermore we rave.
And when we're all together, then each one
Seems as he were a very Solomon.
But everything that glisters like fine gold
Is not gold, as I've often heard it told;
And every apple that is fair to eye
Is yet not sound, whatever hucksters cry;
And even so, that's how it fares with us:
For he that seems the wisest, by Jesus,
Is greatest fool, when proof is asked, in brief;
And he that seems the truest is a thief;
That shall you know ere I from you do wend,
When of my tale I've made at length an end.
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