Wycliffe(i)
1 Wo to me, for Y am maad as he that gaderith in heruest rasyns of grapis; there is no clustre for to ete; my soule desiride figis ripe bifore othere.
2 The hooli perischide fro erthe, and riytful is not in men; alle aspien, ether setten tresoun, in blood, a man huntith his brother to deth.
3 The yuel of her hondis thei seien good; the prince axith, and the domesman is in yeldyng; and a greet man spak the desir of his soule, and thei sturbliden togidere it.
4 He that is best in hem, is as a paluyre; and he that is riytful, is as a thorn of hegge. The dai of thi biholdyng, thi visityng cometh, now schal be distriyng of hem.
5 Nyle ye bileue to a frend, and nyle ye truste in a duyk; fro hir that slepith in thi bosum, kepe thou closyngis of thi mouth.