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of canane he was borne & brocht,
as I fand þare I haf socht,
& al his kine. bot oure hal he
of fasone ferlyful was to se;
fore he sa mekil, sa hee and auchful vas,
þat few du[r]ste luk hyme in þe face;
& he was ful mekil of mycht;
for twelf cubitis he had of hicht.
wrytine in his gest als fynd we,
befor þe king of canane
christofore stud, & hyme bethocht
gyf he ony king find mocht
mychtyare þane þat kinge was;
fore, ware it sa, he wald pas
fore to serwe hyme, & be his mane.
&, as he thocht, furth one he wane,
& socht fare, ore he fane,
In gret trawale, til he fand ane
þat was nammyt of mychtis maste.
christofor þane in gret haste
Come hyme before, & sad [þat] he
fore reward wald his seruand be.
& wittis þat þe kinge blyth was þan,
seand þe profere of syk a mane!
& sad til hyme: “welcum be þu!
& quhat me þu askis now
be resone, trewly þu sal hafe,
& ore þi terme na thinge crafe.”
christofor his cunnand mad,
& with þis kinge stil abad,
as with þe sowuerane mychty man,
þat he wend in warld vare þan.
syne hapnyt a day, a menstrale
Come before þe kinge, as befel,
& sad a cheste with voice clere.
þare-In he nemmyt tymmis sere
þe wykyt fend, oure fellon fa.
& þane alsone þe king can ma
þe takine of þe croice verra
on hyme, herand þat vord sa—
as cristine man he dred þat name,
þat brocht mankind into blame—
he thocht, quhat mycht þat mene,
þat þe takine sa oft had sene.
þane come he to þe king in hy,
& sad: “sir, tellis me quhy
ȝe sik takinge sa oft has mad
In til ȝoure forhed [he] & brade.”
& þat þe king wald nocht say.
christofere þane, but delay,
sad: “I wil wyt quhy it was,
or ellis myn lef haf I to pas.”
quod he; “frend, I tel þe til,
to mak ȝone takine I had skil,
þe feyndis name quhen I here say,
þat vaittis ws nycht and day,
to wryk in ws his wekit pouste;
& for I dowt he suld noy me,
fore-þi sic takine is one me lad.”
christofere þane til hyme sad:
“sir, be þi spek I wat [wel] now,
þe dewil is mare master þan þu,
sene I þe red now fore hyme se.
fare wele! I dwel no mare with þe;
fore dissawit I haf bene Il,
sene tyme I come fyrste þe til,
trowand in wane, forowt wene,
þat þu þe maste master had bene;
bot now, me think, þe dewil mare
master is þane þu. fore-þi I fayre
to sek hyme ay but sugiornynge,
& with hyme sal mak my dwellinge.”
christofore þis lef has tane,
& roydly passit furth allane,
but avysment fast gannand,
& his pluyk in til his hand.
sa held he furth lange but lese,
til he come in a wildirnes.
þare, eftyre he had lange tym gan
but company hyme alane,
a gret menȝe he saw nere-hand
lyk [to] knychtis cume rydand.
of þame ane, auful to se,
come & askyt quhat socht he.
þan sayd he sturdely:
“a mychty lorde, þe dewill, sek I;
fore I with hyme dwelland wald be.”
sad he þan: “lo, I ame he!”
“I haf þe socht to be þi mane
fore-euir.” & blyth was he þane,
& in gret thank his seruice tuke,
but ony aythe one bel ore buke.
þane passit þai [furth] one þe way,
throu a forest, as þe gat lay.
&, as a quhil þai trawalit had,
þai saw a croice rycht wel mad
before þame in-to þe way.
þane þe feynd, in gret affray,
lewit þe gat, & passit-by
thru thornis scharpe in gud hy.
syne come he to þe gat a-gane.
þane christofore cane þat hyme frane,
& til hyme sudandly cane say:
“quhy fled þu fra þe hee-way,
& led me thru þe scharpe thornis?
me thinke, fulely þu me scornis!
quhy dide þu swa? bot gyf þat þu
tel me suth, I wil rycht now
lewe þe quyt, & pase myn way
to get a mastere quhare I may;
bot þu tel me, fore wele na wa
a fowt forthyre wil I nocht ga.”
þane sad he: “ore þu gange away,
alhale þe suth I sal þe say.
a man hangit one sik a tre,
as þu in þe gat cane se,
þat Ihesu was callit to name,
þat me has done sa gretly schame,
þat I ame red quhen-euire I se
þe takine of hyme ore of his tre.”
crystofor sad þane: “wel I trow
þa[t] he is master mare þan ȝu,
sene fore his takine þu has dout.
I wil nocht be þine vndyrlowt
langare, bot I wil hyme seke,
þat daynttis þe, & makis meke.
fore-þi fare wele! fore I wil ay,
til cryst I fynd, pas one my way.”

cRystofore, þat was nocht swere,
passyt one fere and neyre,
sekand cryst in mony lande,
til It hapnyt þat he fand
Ane heremyt in a wildirnes;
& for ga[i]ne he wery was,
þat he was fayne rest to get,
& askit þat þe herymyt ȝet.
þat hyme he speryt quhat socht he,
quhene he come, & [quhar] wald be.
þane sad he: “I haf trawalit lang
fore to get criste, bot I ne fand,
fore myn maystere, þe feynd, sade me
þat prince oure al þe warld is he.
bot I gat nane cane me say,
quhare þat criste I fynd may
& I ȝarne mast oure althinge
vith hyme to mak my dwellinge.”
þe heremyt þan Ioyful was,
& sad: “þu sal na forthyre pas;
fore I cane tel þe witterly
how þu criste suld fynd in hy.”
christofore þane [he] til hyme lacht,
& cristine fath [he] til hyme taucht,
& mad hyme parfyt [man] þare-In,
& gert hyme hale forsak syne.
þane sad he in his preching:
“gyfis ȝou ȝarnis to serwe þat kynge,
criste, þat þu wald emples to,
sic is þe serwice þu ma do:
In abstinens þu mon be gret,
& fore-bere oft drynk & met.”
quod cristofore: “fast I ne may.”
þane cuth þe heremyt til hym sa:
“to pray [to] criste of[t] wordis þe.”
þane answert he, & sad: “lat be!
fore quhat seruice þou menis, I ne vat,
na wil I do It, be na gat.”
þe heremyt to hyme þane:
“me think þe a ferly mane,
þat ȝarnis þi lord til emples,
& thole fore hyme wil na dyses!
þu sal nocht ga ȝet sa thane.
sene þu art a mekil man,
& wicht Inewcht, gyf þou be gud,
& nere-by here is a mekil flud;
þar mony drownyt, wel I wat,
fore þare is nothyre bryg na bat,
to fery men oure þat flud.
to safe þare lyfis is ful gud.
sik seruice thankful suld be
to criste, þat þu sa fane wald se;
& he to þe þare suld apere,
þe latand wit but ony were,
þat þu had fundyne þat þou socht.”
cristofore sad: “I wil nocht
lef It, gyf It til hyme be
sa thankful as þu sais me,
& here I hecht hym truly to
sic seruice til hym to do.”
þane to þe flud he passit sone,
& til hyme a luge mad but hone,
& þare he dwelt, & bare oure all,
fore cristis sak, þat wald hym cal.
In-sted of staf, a ployk [he] had,
wele nere as a perktre mad.
& lang tyme as he had ben þare,
& fele oure þe watir þane bare,
hapnyt hyme a nycht to ly,
eftyre his trawale ful wery,
& he[rd] a voyce as of a barne
calland one hyme vondir ȝarne:
“cum furth, cristofore, & bere me oure!”
þane in his hand he hynt his store.
& quhen he comm furth, he fand nan.
fore-þi agane sone is he gane
til his luge, hym for til ese.
& skantly lenyt don he was,
quhen þe woyce on hym can cry.
þane rane he a-gane in gud hy,
& fand na thing; bot turnyt agane,
& mad his trawale in-to wane.
þe thred tyme callit þe stewine,
askand helpe fore þe kinge of hewyn.
þane fand he [a] barne one þe bank,
þat prayt hym farly fore thank
of criste, his lord, he wald hym hafe
our, & þane his lyfe safe.
þane to þe barne he ȝed but bade,
& keste hyme one his schuldris brad,
& passit in þe watir rathly,
wenand to pas but wath ony.
&, ay þe farrere þat he wod,
þe depare ay wox þe flude,
& þe lytil barne he bare
wox euiare mare & mare,
þat vnese oure þe watir he wane.
he set hyme done, & speryt þane:
“gud sone, in fath, quhat-[sa] þu be,
In gret parel þu has sat me;
fore sic dises þu has me wrocht,
þat as hewy me þe thocht
as I had borne—þu trow þis tale!—
one myn bak þe warld hale.”
“þe warld, quod he, þu ne bare,
bot þu bare mykil mare:
þat is, hyme, þat þe varld wrocht,
oure þe watir þu has brocht;
fore I ame criste but ony were,
þe kink þat þu seruis here,
& þi seruice in thank has tane.
& to þat takine I þe sane;
þe staf, þat is lange & rond,
thrist it fast done in þe grownd,
& to-morne, in þe mornynge,
berand fluris þu sal It fynd.”
with þat criste fra hyme wanyst,
& hame he passit til his bewist.
&, ore he ȝed his longart to,
as criste hyme bad sa can he do;
& sone in þe mornynge,
he come to se þis taknyne;
& his staf, as a palme tre,
fluryst fare, fundyne has he,
with daytis dere & lewis brad;
& seand þat gret Ioy he had.