Wycliffe(i)
1 Do now, ye riche men, wepe ye, yellinge in youre wretchidnessis that schulen come to you.
2 Youre richessis ben rotun, and youre clothis ben etun of mouytis.
3 Youre gold and siluer hath rustid, and the rust of hem schal be to you in to witnessyng, and schal ete youre fleischis, as fier. Ye han tresourid to you wraththe in the last daies.
4 Lo! the hire of youre werke men, that repiden youre feeldis, which is fraudid of you, crieth; and the cry of hem hath entrid in to the eeris of the Lord of oostis.
5 Ye han ete on the erthe, and in youre letcheries ye han nurschid youre hertis. In the dai of sleyng ye brouyten,
6 and slowen the iust man, and he ayenstood not you.
7 Therfor, britheren, be ye pacient, til to the comyng of the Lord. Lo! an erthetilier abidith preciouse fruyt of the erthe, paciently suffrynge, til he resseyue `tymeful and lateful fruyt.