Stanzas XXV–XXXII

XXV
Item, this trust I do declare
For three poor children named below :
Three little orphans lone and bare,
That hungry and unshodden go
And naked to all winds that blow ;
That they may be provided for
And sheltered from the rain and snow,
At least until this winter's o'er.

XXVI
To Colin Laurens, Jehan Moreau
And Girard Gossain, having ne'er
A farthing's worth of substance, no,
Nor kith nor kindred anywhere,
I leave, at option, each a share
Of goods or else four blanks once told.
Full merrily they thus shall fare,
Poor silly souls, when they are old.

XXVII
Item, my right of nomination
Holden of the University,
I leave, by way of resignation,
To rescue from adversity
Poor clerks that of this city be, —
Hereunder named, for very ruth
That thereunto incited me,
Seeing them naked all as Truth.

XXVIII
Their names are Thibault de Vitry
And Guillaume Cotin — peaceable
Poor wights, that humble scholars be.
Latin they featly speak and spell
And at the lectern sing right well.
I do devise to them in fee
( Till better fortune with them dwell )
A rent-charge on the pillory.

XXIX
Item, the Crozier of the street
Of St. Antoine I do ordain,
Also a cue wherewith folk beat
And every day full pot of Seine
To those that in the trap are ta'en,
Bound hand and foot in close duresse ;
My mirror eke and grace to gain
The favours of the gaoleress.

XXX
Item, I leave the hospitals
My curtains spun the spiders by ;
And to the lodgers 'neath the stalls
Each one a buffet on the eye
And leave to tremble, as they lie,
Bruised, frozen, drenched, unshorn and lean,
With hose shrunk half way up the thigh,
Gowns all to-clipt and woeful mien.

XXXI
Unto my barber I devise
The ends and clippings of my hair ;
Item, on charitable wise,
I leave my old boots, every pair,
Unto the cobbler and declare
My clothes the broker's, so these two
May when I'm dead my leavings share,
For less than what they cost when new.

XXXII
Unto the begging Orders four,
The nuns and sisters ( tidbits they
Dainty and prime ) I leave and store
Of flawns, poults, capons, so they may
Break bread with both hands night and day
And eke the Fifteen Signs declare:
Monks court our neighbours' wives, folk say,
But that is none of my affair.