 | The Castell of Perseverance |  |
SCENE IV
HUMANUM GENUS.
Aftyr oure forme-faderys kende
Þis nyth I was of my modyr born.
Fro my modyr I walke, I wende,
Ful feynt and febyl I fare ȝou beforn.
I am nakyd of lym and lende
As Mankynde is schapyn and schorn.
I not wedyr to gon ne to lende
To helpe myself mydday nyn morn.
For schame I stonde and schende.
I was born þis nyth in blody ble
And nakyd I am, as ȝe may se.
A, Lord God in trinite,
Whow Mankende is vnthende!
Þis nyth I was of my modyr born.
Fro my modyr I walke, I wende,
Ful feynt and febyl I fare ȝou beforn.
I am nakyd of lym and lende
As Mankynde is schapyn and schorn.
I not wedyr to gon ne to lende
To helpe myself mydday nyn morn.
For schame I stonde and schende.
I was born þis nyth in blody ble
And nakyd I am, as ȝe may se.
A, Lord God in trinite,
Whow Mankende is vnthende!
Whereto I was to þis werld browth
I ne wot, but to woo and wepynge
I am born and haue ryth nowth
To helpe myself in no doynge.
I stonde and stodye al ful of þowth.
Bare and pore is my clothynge.
A sely crysme myn hed hath cawth
Þat I tok at myn crystenynge.
Certys I haue no more.
Of erthe I cam, I wot ryth wele,
And as erthe I stande þis sele.
Of Mankende it is gret dele.
Lord God, I crye þyne ore!
I ne wot, but to woo and wepynge
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To helpe myself in no doynge.
I stonde and stodye al ful of þowth.
Bare and pore is my clothynge.
A sely crysme myn hed hath cawth
Þat I tok at myn crystenynge.
Certys I haue no more.
Of erthe I cam, I wot ryth wele,
And as erthe I stande þis sele.
Of Mankende it is gret dele.
Lord God, I crye þyne ore!
To aungels bene asynyd to me:
Þe ton techyth me to goode;
On my ryth syde ȝe may hym se;
He cam fro Criste þat deyed on rode.
Anoþyr is ordeynyd her to be
Þat is my foo, be fen and flode;
He is about in euery degre
To drawe me to þo dewylys wode
Þat in helle ben thycke.
Swyche to hath euery man on lyue
To rewlyn hym and hys wyttys fyue.
Whanne man doth ewyl, þe ton wolde schryue,
Þe tothyr drawyth to wycke.
Þe ton techyth me to goode;
On my ryth syde ȝe may hym se;
He cam fro Criste þat deyed on rode.
Anoþyr is ordeynyd her to be
Þat is my foo, be fen and flode;
He is about in euery degre
To drawe me to þo dewylys wode
Þat in helle ben thycke.
Swyche to hath euery man on lyue
To rewlyn hym and hys wyttys fyue.
Whanne man doth ewyl, þe ton wolde schryue,
Þe tothyr drawyth to wycke.
But syn þese aungelys be to me falle,
Lord Jhesu, to ȝou I bydde a bone
Þat I may folwe, be strete and stalle,
Þe aungyl þat cam fro heuene trone.
Now, Lord Jesu in heuene halle,
Here whane I make my mone.
Coryows Criste, to ȝou I calle.
As a grysly gost I grucche and grone,
I wene, ryth ful of thowth.
A, Lord Jhesu, wedyr may I goo?
A crysyme I haue and no moo.
Alas, men may be wondyr woo
Whanne þei be fyrst forth browth.
Lord Jhesu, to ȝou I bydde a bone
Þat I may folwe, be strete and stalle,
Þe aungyl þat cam fro heuene trone.
Now, Lord Jesu in heuene halle,
Here whane I make my mone.
Coryows Criste, to ȝou I calle.
As a grysly gost I grucche and grone,
I wene, ryth ful of thowth.
A, Lord Jhesu, wedyr may I goo?
A crysyme I haue and no moo.
Alas, men may be wondyr woo
Whanne þei be fyrst forth browth.
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Ȝa forsothe, and þat is wel sene.
Of woful wo man may synge,
For iche creature helpyth hymself bedene
Saue only man at hys comynge.
Neuyrþelesse turne þe fro tene
And serue Jhesu, heuene kynge,
And þou schalt, be greuys grene,
Fare wel in all thynge.
Þat Lord þi lyfe hath lante.
Haue hym alwey in þi mynde
Þat deyed on rode for Mankynde
And serue hym to þi lyfes ende
And sertys þou schalt not wante.
MALUS ANGELUS.
Pes, aungel, þi wordys are not wyse.
Þou counselyst hym not aryth.
He schal hym drawyn to þe Werdys seruyse
To dwelle wyth caysere, kynge, and knyth,
Þat in londe be hym non lyche.
Cum on wyth me, stylle as ston.
Þou and I to þe Werd schul goon
And þanne þou schalt sen anon
Whow sone þou schalt be ryche.
BONUS ANGELUS.
A, pes, aungel, þou spekyst folye.
Why schuld he coueyt werldys goode,
Syn Criste in erthe and hys meynye
All in pouert here þei stode?
Werldys wele, be strete and stye,
Faylyth and fadyth as fysch in flode,
But heueryche is good and trye,
Þer Criste syttyth bryth as blode,
Wythoutyn any dystresse.
To þe World wolde he not flyt
But forsok it euery whytt.
Example I fynde in holy wryt,
He wyl bere me wytnesse.
Diuicias et paupertates ne dederis michi, Domine.
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Ȝa, ȝa, man, leue hym nowth,
But cum wyth me, be stye and strete.
Haue þou a gobet of þe werld cawth,
Þou schalt fynde it good and swete.
A fayre lady þe schal be tawth
Þat in bowre þi bale schal bete.
Wyth ryche rentys þou schalt be frawth,
Wyth sylke sendel to syttyn in sete.
I rede, late bedys be.
If þou wylt haue wel þyn hele
And faryn wel at mete and mele,
Wyth Goddys seruyse may þou not dele
But cum and folwe me.
HUMANUM GENUS.
Whom to folwe wetyn I ne may.
I stonde and stodye and gynne to raue.
I wolde be ryche in gret aray
And fayn I wolde my sowle saue.
As wynde in watyr I wave.
Þou woldyst to þe Werld I me toke,
And he wolde þat I it forsoke.
Now so God me helpe and þe holy boke,
I not wyche I may haue.
MALUS ANGELUS.
Cum on, man, whereof hast þou care?
Go we to þe Werld, I rede þe, blyue,
For þer þou schalt mow ryth wel fare,
In case if þou þynke for to thryue,
No lord schal be þe lyche.
Take þe Werld to þine entent
And late þi loue be þeron lent.
Wyth gold and syluyr and ryche rent
Anone þou schalt be ryche.
HUMANUM GENUS.
Now syn þou hast behetyn me so,
I wyl go wyth þe and asay.
I ne lette, for frende ner fo,
But wyth þe Werld I wyl go play,
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In þis World is al my trust
To lyuyn in lykyng and in lust.
Haue he and I onys cust,
We schal not part, I trowe.
BONUS ANGELUS.
A, nay, man, for Cristys blod,
Cum agayn, be strete and style.
Þe Werld is wyckyd and ful wod
And þou schalt leuyn but a whyle.
What coueytyst þou to wynne?
Man, þynke on þyn endynge day
Whanne þou schalt be closyd vndyr clay,
And if þou thenke of þat aray,
Certys þou schalt not synne.
Homo, memento finis et in eternum non peccabis.
MALUS ANGELUS.Ȝa, on þi sowle þou schalt þynke al betyme.
Cum forth, man, and take non hede.
Cum on, and þou schalt holdyn hym inne.
Þi flesch þou schalt foster and fede
Wyth lofly lyuys fode.
Wyth þe Werld þou mayst be bold
Tyl þou be sexty wyntyr hold.
Wanne þi nose waxit cold,
Þanne mayst þou drawe to goode.
HUMANUM GENUS.
I vow to God, and so I may
Make mery a ful gret throwe.
I may leuyn many a day;
I am but ȝonge, as I trowe,
For to do þat I schulde.
Myth I ryde be sompe and syke
And be ryche and lordlyke,
Certys þanne schulde I be fryke
And a mery man on molde.
MALUS ANGELUS.
Ȝys, be my feyth, þou schalt be a lord,
And ellys hange me be þe hals!
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Oþyrwhyle þou muste be fals
Amonge kythe and kynne.
Now go we forth swythe anon,
To þe Werld us must gon,
And bere þe manly euere among
Whanne þou comyst out or inne.
HUMANUM GENUS.
Ȝys, and ellys haue þou my necke,
But I be manly be downe and dyche;
And þou I be fals, I ne recke,
Wyth so þat I be lordlyche.
I folwe þe as I can.
Þou schalt be my bote of bale,
For were I ryche of holt and hale
Þanne wolde I ȝeue neuere tale
Of God ne of good man.
BONUS ANGELUS.
I weyle and wrynge and make mone.
Þis man wyth woo schal be pylt.
I sye sore and grysly grone
For hys folye schal make hym spylt.
I not wedyr to gone.
Mankynde hath forsakyn me.
Alas, man, for loue of the!
Ȝa, for þis gamyn and þis gle
Þou schalt grocchyn and grone.
Pipe vp musyk
| The Castell of Perseverance | |