261   Or by his witte, or by his prowesse,
262   Of that hath she gret hevynesse;
263   ffor, trustith wel, she goth nygh wode
264   Whan any chaunge happith gode.
265   Envie is of such crueltee,
266   That feith ne trouth holdith she
267   To freend ne felawe, bad or good.
268   Ne she hath kynne noon of hir blood,
269   That she nys ful her enemye;
270   She nolde, I dar seyn hardelye,
271   Hir owne fadir farede well.
272   And sore abieth she everydell
273   Hir malice, and hir male talent:
274   ffor she is in so gret turment
275   And hath such, whan folk doth good,
276   That nygh she meltith for pure wood;
277   Hir herte kervyth and so brekith
278   That god the puple wel Awrekith.
279   Envie, iwis, shal nevere lette
280   Som blame upon the folk to sette.
281   I trowe that if envie, iwis,
282   Knewe the best man that is
283   On this side or biyonde the see,
284   Yit somwhat lakken hym wolde she.