University of Virginia Library

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19

[The Tale of the Witch and her Cow-sucking Bag; and how a Bishop faild to work her Charm, because he didn't believe in it.]

Þere was a wycche, and made a bagge,
A bely of leþyr, a gretë swagge,
She sygaldryd so þys bagge bely
Þat hyt ȝede and soke mennys ky,
At euene, & at morw tyde,
yn here pasture, oþer ellys be syde.
long hyt ȝede aboutë fast,
Tyl hyt was parceyued at the last;
Þan al þe godemen of þe toune,
Byfore þe bysshop dyden here somoune;
Þey dyden þe baggë with here bere,
To wetë what she shuld answere.
hyt was shewyd byfore þe bysshop,
Þat she dyde to goo swych a melk slop,
Þurgh wycchecraft & mysáuenture,
To sugke here keyn yn here pasture.
Þe bysshop merueyled, & oþer mo,
how þat she myȝt do hyt go.
“Dame,” seyd þe bysshop, “do þy quentyse,
And late vs se how hyt shal ryse.”
Þys wycche here charme began to sey,
Þe slop ros vp, and ȝede þe weye.

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20

Þe bysshop seyd, “þys haue we seyn;
Do hyt now to lygge aȝeyn.”
Þe wycchë dede al at hys wylle:
She made þe slop aȝen lygge stylle,
Þe bysshop made a clerk þan wryte
Al þat she seyd, mochel and lyte,
And allë how she made here went;
Þe bysshop þarto ȝaf gode entent.
“Þan,” seyde þe bysshop, “now shal y,
As þou hast do, do þy maystry.”
Þe bysshop bygan þe charme to rede,
And as she dyde, he dyde yn dede;
He seyd and dedë euery deyl,
Ryȝt as she dede, he dede as weyl.
Þe sloppe lay stylle, as hyt ded wore,
For hym ne ros hyt neuer þe more.
“why,” seyd he, “wyl hyt nat ryse,
And y haue do þe samë wyse,
And seyd þe wurdys, lesse ne mo,
And for my seyyng wyl hyt nat go?”
“Nay,” she seyd, “why shuld hyt so?
Ȝe beleue nat as y do:
wlde ȝe beleue my wrdys as y,
Hyt shulde a go, and sokun ky.”
He seyd, “þan fayleþ noght but beleuyng;”
She seyd, “þat helpeþ al my þyng;
And so hyt ys for ourë lawe,
Beleue ys morë þan þe sawe;

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21

For, þou mayst sey what þou wylt,
But þou beleue hyt, ellys ys alle spylt;
Alle þat y seyd, y beleue hyt weyl,
My beleue haþ do þe dede euery deyl.”
Þe bysshop comaundyd þat she shuld noȝt
Beleue ne wurche as she had wroȝt.

Ȝyf þou trowest or vndyrstondys
Þat þre sustren ben shapandys,
And comun þere þe chylde ys bore,
And shapyn hyt wele or euel before;
For wykked beleue þat þou art ynne
Þey make þe chylde to falle yn synne;
Swyche beleue þou shuldest nat werche
Aȝens þe beleue of holy cherche.
Þer nys no shapper but god almyȝt,

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22

Þat yn þe vyrgyne Mary lyȝt.
He ys shapper of al þyng;
Of al þat ys, he wote þe endyng;
He ys boþë god and man;
Alle he wote, and alle he can.
Þe touþer shappers þat men of telle,
Beteche we hem þe fende of helle.