Handlyng Synne | ||
[The Tale of how Shrift made a Woman's unconfest Sin fly out of her Mouth as a ‘Blak,’ a ‘Fende of Helle.’]
Of a womman y herde onys spelle,
þat alle here synnës wulde nat telle;
þys wumman hadde do a synful dede;
here shamed to telle hyt for drede.
þat alle here synnës wulde nat telle;
370
here shamed to telle hyt for drede.
On a day, grace was here ȝyue,
þat she þoȝte she wulde be shryue:
þys womman come vnto a frere,
And, preyd hym, here lyfe to here.
As she sat here shryftë ynne,
She þoȝte vppon þys ychë synne;
Þe frerë cumforted here weyl,
Boldely to sey euery deyl;
hys cumforte madë here ryȝt bolde,
So þat she furþe þe synnë tolde,
þat she haddë longe forhole,
þurgh cunseyl of þe deuyl stole;
But, at þat ychë breyde
þat she furþe þe synnë seyde,
Come fleyng oute, at here mouþe a blak,
Ryȝt as she þe wurdë spak:
þe frerë sagh hyt apertly,
And þanked God of hys mercy.
þat she þoȝte she wulde be shryue:
þys womman come vnto a frere,
And, preyd hym, here lyfe to here.
As she sat here shryftë ynne,
She þoȝte vppon þys ychë synne;
Þe frerë cumforted here weyl,
Boldely to sey euery deyl;
hys cumforte madë here ryȝt bolde,
So þat she furþe þe synnë tolde,
þat she haddë longe forhole,
þurgh cunseyl of þe deuyl stole;
But, at þat ychë breyde
þat she furþe þe synnë seyde,
Come fleyng oute, at here mouþe a blak,
Ryȝt as she þe wurdë spak:
þe frerë sagh hyt apertly,
And þanked God of hys mercy.
þat ychë blak, y dar wel telle
þat hyt was a fende of helle,
þat myȝt no lenger yn here reste
whan þe synnë oute gan breste;
But as longe as she þe synne forhale,
Þe deuyl helde ful stylle hys stale;
For euer-more he wyl a-byde
whyl o synnë may hym hyde;
And, for þat yche resun why,
Shryue we oure synnë, alle holy;
Nat by parcelles, to prestes atwynne;
To one, alle holy, shryue þy synne;
To o preste telle hyt euery deyl,
Þan art þou shryuë holy weyl:
At oure shryfte, God ȝyue vs myȝt
Þese poyntes to kunne, and shewe hem ryȝt.
þat hyt was a fende of helle,
þat myȝt no lenger yn here reste
whan þe synnë oute gan breste;
But as longe as she þe synne forhale,
Þe deuyl helde ful stylle hys stale;
For euer-more he wyl a-byde
whyl o synnë may hym hyde;
And, for þat yche resun why,
Shryue we oure synnë, alle holy;
Nat by parcelles, to prestes atwynne;
To one, alle holy, shryue þy synne;
371
Þan art þou shryuë holy weyl:
At oure shryfte, God ȝyue vs myȝt
Þese poyntes to kunne, and shewe hem ryȝt.
Now haue ȝe herde þe poyntës twelue,
how euery man shal shryue hym selue,
And of þese poyntes lerned sum deyl,
how ȝe mow[ë] shryue ȝow weyl.
Prestës oghte hem alle to kunne,
lewed men to teche and monne;
And but þey techë hem þys lore,
Here perel ys weyl þe more.
how euery man shal shryue hym selue,
And of þese poyntes lerned sum deyl,
how ȝe mow[ë] shryue ȝow weyl.
Prestës oghte hem alle to kunne,
lewed men to teche and monne;
And but þey techë hem þys lore,
Here perel ys weyl þe more.
Moche ys shryftë for to preyse;
Þe dede, to lyue, he may vpreyse;
A soulë þat ys dede þurgh synne,
Þurgh shryftë comþ gracë þer-ynne.
Many godenesse myȝt men telle,
How shryfte confoundeþ þe deuyl of helle.
Lesteneþ, godë men, to lere,
Þe grace of shryftë ȝe mow here.
Þe dede, to lyue, he may vpreyse;
A soulë þat ys dede þurgh synne,
Þurgh shryftë comþ gracë þer-ynne.
Many godenesse myȝt men telle,
How shryfte confoundeþ þe deuyl of helle.
Lesteneþ, godë men, to lere,
Þe grace of shryftë ȝe mow here.
Handlyng Synne | ||