 | Handlyng Synne |  |
[The Tale of the Hypocritical Monk of the Abbey Tangabaton.]
Seynt Gregory seyþ, as y shal sey,
hyt was onës an abbey
Þe namë hyght ‘tangabaton,’
And munkës þey were echon.
Of a munke ȝede þe wurde ful ryue,
Þat he was of holy lyue;
But for þat he was nat so,
So holy as men tolde hym to,
Fals preysyng shal wykkedly wende,
As hyt ys wurþy, so shal hyt ende.
A seknes toke þe munke ful grym
As god had purueyd of hym.
he was so traueyled, shortly to sey,
Þat he wyst weyl þat he shuld dey.
whan he wyst þat, he made do calle
Boþe one and oþer, hys bryþryn alle,
“Byddyþ hem come byfore me here;
Þat may hem auayle, y shal hem lere.”
hyt was onës an abbey
Þe namë hyght ‘tangabaton,’
And munkës þey were echon.
Of a munke ȝede þe wurde ful ryue,
Þat he was of holy lyue;
But for þat he was nat so,
So holy as men tolde hym to,
Fals preysyng shal wykkedly wende,
As hyt ys wurþy, so shal hyt ende.
A seknes toke þe munke ful grym
111
he was so traueyled, shortly to sey,
Þat he wyst weyl þat he shuld dey.
whan he wyst þat, he made do calle
Boþe one and oþer, hys bryþryn alle,
“Byddyþ hem come byfore me here;
Þat may hem auayle, y shal hem lere.”
Þey come rennyng, boþe lesse and more,
And wende haue herd sum holy lore.
And when þey werë come echone,
To hem he made of sorow hys mone:
“hyt may no lenger be forholne;
Falsly, wurschyp haue y stolne;
y am nat, breþren, as ȝe wene,
Of holy lyfe, as haþ be sene;
Þat y fasted when ȝe lete;
For twyys pryuyly y ȝete;
And whan ȝe wende y had be holy,
Y ete and drank ful lustyly.
To warnë ȝow, þus y telle,
For me ys come þe fende of helle.
wyþ hys tayle my knes he haþ knyȝt,
And wyþ hys hede my mouþ y-dyt.
Alas þe tyme þat y was bore!
As an ypocryte y am forlore.
Ryȝt now shal he me strangle and cheke,
Ne shal y neuer aftyr speke.”
Be-fore hem alle he deyde astyte
Þat ychë proud ypocryte.
And wende haue herd sum holy lore.
And when þey werë come echone,
To hem he made of sorow hys mone:
“hyt may no lenger be forholne;
Falsly, wurschyp haue y stolne;
y am nat, breþren, as ȝe wene,
Of holy lyfe, as haþ be sene;
Þat y fasted when ȝe lete;
For twyys pryuyly y ȝete;
And whan ȝe wende y had be holy,
Y ete and drank ful lustyly.
To warnë ȝow, þus y telle,
For me ys come þe fende of helle.
wyþ hys tayle my knes he haþ knyȝt,
And wyþ hys hede my mouþ y-dyt.
Alas þe tyme þat y was bore!
As an ypocryte y am forlore.
Ryȝt now shal he me strangle and cheke,
Ne shal y neuer aftyr speke.”
Be-fore hem alle he deyde astyte
Þat ychë proud ypocryte.
Þys was shewed, hem for to warne,
And þat, God, no man shuld scorne.
Ypocrysye, þys ys þe synne
Feyre wyþ-oute, and foule with-ynne.
Þys ychë synnë cumþ of pryde,
Yn feyre shewyng, here falsnes hyde.
And þat, God, no man shuld scorne.
Ypocrysye, þys ys þe synne
Feyre wyþ-oute, and foule with-ynne.
Þys ychë synnë cumþ of pryde,
112
Ȝyf þou art prout of þy her,
(As prout men ben euery where,)
Or ȝyf þou tyfyst þe ouer proudly,
Ouer mesure on þy body,
Swychë synne ys nat þe leste;
Y rede þe telle hyt to þe preste.
(As prout men ben euery where,)
Or ȝyf þou tyfyst þe ouer proudly,
Ouer mesure on þy body,
Swychë synne ys nat þe leste;
Y rede þe telle hyt to þe preste.
Be nat proud of þy croket,
Yn þe cherche to tyfe and set.
At home mayst þou þy croket werche,
And nat at þy messe yn þe cherche.
Yn þe cherche to tyfe and set.
At home mayst þou þy croket werche,
And nat at þy messe yn þe cherche.
And of þese berded buckys also,
with hem-self þey moche mysdo,
Þat leuë crystyn mennys acyse
And hauntë alle þe newë gyse;
Þerwhylys þey had þat gyse on hand,
was neuer gracë yn þys land.
with hem-self þey moche mysdo,
Þat leuë crystyn mennys acyse
And hauntë alle þe newë gyse;
Þerwhylys þey had þat gyse on hand,
was neuer gracë yn þys land.
Of proud wymmen wuld y telle,
But þey are so wroth and felle;
Of þese þat are so foule and fade,
Þat make hem feyrere þan god hem made
with oblaunchere or ouþer floure,
To make hem whytter of coloure.
Grete pryde hyt ys, and outrage,
þat she ys nat payd of goddys ymage.
But þey are so wroth and felle;
Of þese þat are so foule and fade,
Þat make hem feyrere þan god hem made
with oblaunchere or ouþer floure,
To make hem whytter of coloure.
Grete pryde hyt ys, and outrage,
þat she ys nat payd of goddys ymage.
heuedys tyfed wyþ grete pryde,
with heer, and hornës syde,
Men mow wete hyt ys grete synne
To hauë mochë pryde þer-ynne.
Men sey, and haue seyd, here before,
For swych pryde are wymmen forlore.—
with heer, and hornës syde,
Men mow wete hyt ys grete synne
To hauë mochë pryde þer-ynne.
Men sey, and haue seyd, here before,
For swych pryde are wymmen forlore.—
Ryche ladyys of grete renouns,
Þey do make hem ryche corouns,
Þey may make to here auenaunt,
But ouer mesure ys nat cunnaunt.
Þey do make hem ryche corouns,
Þey may make to here auenaunt,
113
| Handlyng Synne | |