University of Virginia Library

Howe the deuyll came and appered vnto saynt Bernarde.

It is founde in the lyfe of saynt Bernarde
When he drewe to his deathwarde
That the deuyll of hell, so horryble of hewe
Asked of saynt Bernarde, wt wordes fewe
Wherfore he asked the kyngdome of heuen
Syth he had gylt in the synnes seauen
Then answered saynt Bernarde to hym this
That I am nat worthy, I wote ywis
Throughe myne owne synnes, it for to haue
When I shall hence wende to my graue
But throughe my lorde Iesus full of myght
That all thynge gouerneth, as it is ryght
As throughe ryght of his fathers herytage
And also for chrysten mennes auauntage
And throughe ryght of his harde passyon
That he suffred here, for our saluacyon
That herytage frely, he graunted me
And also that other parte to hym shulde be
Of whose ryght, I aske that heauen ryche
After his mercye, that nothynge is lyche
When the deuyll harde hym thus say
As ouercome he went his way
And anone saynt Bernarde, when this was done
Came agayne to his mynde, that erst was gone
And anone dyed afterwarde tho
And euen his soule to blysse gan go
But it is more wonder all for to tell
Why that God suffreth, the deuyll of hell
To appere to hym, that is of myght moste
Whan that he dyed, and gaue vp his ghoste
For the great Clarckes, wytnesseth it
In theyr owne bokes, that be of holy wryt
Than semed it well, that God wolde thus
Suffre the deuyll of hell, to appere to vs
In tyme of death, at our last ende
When we shall all hence wende
But a stronge payne, to vs that shall be
The great syght of deuylles, that than we shall se
For they be so horryble, as telleth the boke
And so blacke, and dredefull vpon to loke
So that all maner of men, that I may deuyse
Of the foule syght of them, may sore agryse
For all maner men, that be in earth alyue
So horryble a syght, can neuer descryue
Nor none so queynte a payntour, yt myght brynge to passe
Neyther man so wytty, neuer yet was
That coulde ought ymagyne, of theyr horryblenes
Other paynte any poynte after theyr lykenes
For theyr shape in this worlde, may no man make
Ne se the same fourme, that they haue take
But yf the deuylles, had of God so large powere
In theyr owne fourme, to shewe them here
Lese they shulde theyr mynde, and be sore agast
For cause that they be into suche fourme cast
But so hardy man was neuer yet none
That lyued in earth, in flesshe and bone
If he sawe the deuyll, in his fourme aryght
That he ne shulde for drede of that foule syght
Anone ryght to dye, other to lese his wyt
As soone as he had beholden it
But in the same fourme, as I tell can
Se them neuer here no lyues man
But onely to them, that death is nere
For God hath bynome them theyr powere
So that they may tempte no man, ne greue
Further then our lorde God, hath gyuen them leue
But anone as death asayleth a man
In the foulest fourme, they wyll appere than
For bycause that euery man, dredynge shulde be
Agaynst the same tyme, that he shulde them se.