Middle English

Fle fro the pres, and dwelle with sothefastnesse,
Suffise thin owen thing, thei it be smal;
For hord hath hate, and clymbyng tykelnesse,
Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal.
Savour no more thanne the byhove schal;
Reule weel thiself, that other folk canst reede;
And trouthe schal delyvere, it is no drede.

Tempest the nought al croked to redresse,
In trust of hire that tourneth as a bal.
Myche wele stant in litel besynesse;
Bywar therfore to spurne ayeyns an al;
Stryve not as doth the crokke with the wal.
Daunte thiself, that dauntest otheres dede;
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.

That the is sent, receyve in buxumnesse;
The wrestlyng for the worlde axeth a fal.
Here is non home, here nys but wyldernesse.
Forth, pylgryme, forth! forth, beste, out of thi stal!
Know thi contré! loke up! thonk God of al!
Hold the heye weye, and lat thi gost the lede;
And trouthe shal delyvere, it is no drede.

[L'envoy.]

Therfore, thou Vache, leve thine olde wrechednesse;
Unto the world leve now to be thral.
Crie hym mercy, that of hys hie godnesse
Made the of nought, and in espec{.i}al
Draw unto hym, and pray in general
For the, and eke for other, hevenelyche mede;
And trouthe schal delyvere, it is no drede.

Explicit le bon conseill de G. Chaucer.

Modern English

Flee from the crowd and dwell with truth;
Be happy with your possessions, though they are small,
For avarice has hate, and climbing instability,
The crowd has envy, and are blind overall.
Savor no more than you shall behold,
Rule yourself well so that other folk can see,
And truth you shall deliver, there is no reason to fear.

Don't trouble yourself with fixing things that are wrong
That are in the trust of Fortune and her wheel;
Much rest stands in little work.
Beware therefore of again kicking an awl
Strive not as the crock does with the wall
Rule yourself, and overcome others' deeds,
And truth you shall deliver, there is no reason to fear.

What you are sent, recieve with obedience;
The fighting over this world is for nothing.
This is not your home, this is nothing but wilderness:
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beast, out of your stall!
Know your country! Look up! Thank the God of all!
Stick to the high road and let your spirit lead you,
And truth you shall deliver, there is no reason to fear.

[Envoy]

Therefore, Sir Philip de la Vache, leave your old wretchedness;
Leave this world from which you are enslaved.
Cry mercy to Him, that of his goodness
Made thee out of nothing, and especially
Draw to him, and pray in general
For yourself, and also for others, heavenly rewards;
And truth you shall deliver, there is no reason to fear.

Here ends the good counsel of G. Chaucer.