be robbid or to be slayn
therfore/ And he is not ewrous ner happy that by couetyse geteth hit/
And alle the euyllys of this vice of auarice had a man of rome named
septemulle For he was a frende of one named tarchus And this septemulle
brente so sore and so cruelly in this synne of couetyse/ that he had no
shame to smyte of the hede of his frende by trayson/ For as moche as one
framosian had promysed to hym as moche weyght of pure gold as the heed
weyed And he bare the sayd heed vpon a staf thurgh the cyte of rome/ and
he wyded the brayn out therof and fyld hit full of leed for to weye the
heuyer This was a right horrible and cruell auarice Ptolome kynge of the
Egipciens poursewed auarice in an other manere For whan anthonie
emperour of rome sawe that he was right riche of gold and siluer/ he had
hym in grete hate and tormentid hym right cruelly And whan he shold
perishe be cause of his richessis/ he toke alle his hauoyr and put hit
in a shippe And wente wyth alle in to the hye see to thende for to
drowne and perishe there the shippe and his rychesses be cause Anthonie
his enemye shold not haue hit/ And whan he was there he durst not
perisshe hit ner myght not fynde in his herte to departe from hit/ but
cam and brought hit agayn in to his hows where he resseyuyd the reward
of deth therfore. And wyth oute doubte he was not lord of the richesse
but the richesse was lady ouer hym/ And therfore hit is sayd in prouerbe
that a man ought to seignorye ouer the riches/ and not for to serue hit/
and yf thou canst dewly vse thy rychesse than she is thy chamberyer/ And
yf thou can not departe from hit and vse hit honestly at thy playsir/
knowe verily y't she is thy lady For the richesse neuer satisfieth the
couetouse/ but the more he hath/ the more he desireth/ And saluste sayth
that auarice distourblith fayth poeste honeste and alle these other good
vertues/ And taketh for these vertues pryde. cruelte. And to forgete
god/ And saith that alle thynges be vendable And after this they ought
to be ware that they leue not to moche/ ner make so grete creances by
which they may falle in pouerte/ For saynt Ambrose saith upon tobye.
pouerte hath no lawe/ for to owe hit is a shame/ & to owe and not paye
is a more shame/ yf y'u be poure beware how thou borowest/ and thinke
how thou maist paye & rendre agayn yf y'u be ryche y'u hast none nede to
borowe & axe/ & it is said in the prouerbes y't hit is fraude to take/
that y'u wilt not ner maist re