 | Handlyng Synne |  |
[Of Sloth, the 4th Deadly Sin.]
Now shul we speke of sloghnes;
Among þe toþer ful wyk hyt ys;
Þe fourþe hyt ys of dedly synnes,
Alle þese rychë men hyt wynnes.
Moche ys a man for to blame
Þat kan nat wurschep Goddys name
with pater noster ne wyþ crede,
Þys beleue shuld hym to heuene lede.
Ful slogh he ys þat wyl nat lere
Þat yche framë blessed preyere;
And also he ys ful of slownes
Þat may, and wyl nat, here hys messe,
Specyaly on þe Sunday
he trespasyþ more yn þe lay.
Among þe toþer ful wyk hyt ys;
Þe fourþe hyt ys of dedly synnes,
Alle þese rychë men hyt wynnes.
Moche ys a man for to blame
Þat kan nat wurschep Goddys name
with pater noster ne wyþ crede,
Þys beleue shuld hym to heuene lede.
Ful slogh he ys þat wyl nat lere
Þat yche framë blessed preyere;
And also he ys ful of slownes
Þat may, and wyl nat, here hys messe,
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he trespasyþ more yn þe lay.
yn þe woke, o day, þurgh ryght,
Þe Sunday, ys a day of myȝt.
how sey þese men þat are þus slogh,
Þat oute of mesure slepe a throwe?
whan he heryþ a bel ryng,
To holy cherchë men kallyng,
Þan may he nat hys beddë lete
But þan behoueþ hym to lygge and swete,
And take þe mery mornyng slepe;
Of matynes ryche men take no kepe
Ȝyf þe mowe ryse at tyme of messe.
For þe matynes, noþer more ne lesse
Þan ys þys Terlyncels skylle,
‘Slepe þou long, and y shal hele.’
he putteþ heuenys yn hys yȝe,
And makeþ hym lenger for to lye;
And seyþ “al betyme mayst þou ryse,
whan þey do þe messe seruyse;
A messe ys ynogh for þe;
Þe touþer gyblot, late hyt be;
here mayst þou bettyr slepe a throwe
þan sytte and loke vpp-on a wowe.”
Þys ys þe cunsel of Terlyncel;
yn alle sloghnesse he bereþ þe bel;
he ys a deuyl of þat myster,
To sloghnes he ys cunseler.
Þe Sunday, ys a day of myȝt.
how sey þese men þat are þus slogh,
Þat oute of mesure slepe a throwe?
whan he heryþ a bel ryng,
To holy cherchë men kallyng,
Þan may he nat hys beddë lete
But þan behoueþ hym to lygge and swete,
And take þe mery mornyng slepe;
Of matynes ryche men take no kepe
Ȝyf þe mowe ryse at tyme of messe.
For þe matynes, noþer more ne lesse
Þan ys þys Terlyncels skylle,
‘Slepe þou long, and y shal hele.’
he putteþ heuenys yn hys yȝe,
And makeþ hym lenger for to lye;
And seyþ “al betyme mayst þou ryse,
whan þey do þe messe seruyse;
A messe ys ynogh for þe;
Þe touþer gyblot, late hyt be;
here mayst þou bettyr slepe a throwe
þan sytte and loke vpp-on a wowe.”
Þys ys þe cunsel of Terlyncel;
yn alle sloghnesse he bereþ þe bel;
he ys a deuyl of þat myster,
To sloghnes he ys cunseler.
þan cumþ one aboutë pryme
“Rys up,” he seyþ, “now ys tyme.”
Þan begynneþ he to klawe and to raske,
And ȝyueþ Terlyncel hys taske.
he klawyþ, he shrubbyþ, wel at hys pay,
And makyþ to Terlyncel a lay;
To hym þat kalled, he spekeþ stoutly,
“what deuyl! why haþ þe prest swych hy?
Byd hym þat he abyde algate;
Hym dar nat syng ȝyt ouer late.”
For hym shal so Goddys seruyse abyde
Tyl hyt be passed ouer þe tyde.
Ȝyt perauenture, at hys rysyng,
Of God spekeþ he no þyng,
But ȝyf hyt be of sum vanyte
Þat rennyþ yn hys þoght; þat spekeþ he.
“Rys up,” he seyþ, “now ys tyme.”
Þan begynneþ he to klawe and to raske,
And ȝyueþ Terlyncel hys taske.
he klawyþ, he shrubbyþ, wel at hys pay,
And makyþ to Terlyncel a lay;
To hym þat kalled, he spekeþ stoutly,
“what deuyl! why haþ þe prest swych hy?
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Hym dar nat syng ȝyt ouer late.”
For hym shal so Goddys seruyse abyde
Tyl hyt be passed ouer þe tyde.
Ȝyt perauenture, at hys rysyng,
Of God spekeþ he no þyng,
But ȝyf hyt be of sum vanyte
Þat rennyþ yn hys þoght; þat spekeþ he.
And when he cumþ vnto þe messe,
Þere behoueþ hym hys here dresse;
Ful fewe bedys are yn hys mouþe,
He vsyþ none; þey are vncouthe.
And ȝyf a frere cum for to preche,
Of a dyner were bettyr speche;
Þan seyþ he, “God shal alle saue;
Do wel; wel shalt þou haue.”
Certys þat ys nat ynow,
For he doþ no þyng to prow.
But ȝyf he wulde lestene þe frere,
To do weyl þan myȝt he lere.
Þere behoueþ hym hys here dresse;
Ful fewe bedys are yn hys mouþe,
He vsyþ none; þey are vncouthe.
And ȝyf a frere cum for to preche,
Of a dyner were bettyr speche;
Þan seyþ he, “God shal alle saue;
Do wel; wel shalt þou haue.”
Certys þat ys nat ynow,
For he doþ no þyng to prow.
But ȝyf he wulde lestene þe frere,
To do weyl þan myȝt he lere.
Ȝyf hyt be nat þan redy, hys dyner,
Take furþe þe chesse or þe tabler;
So shal he pley tyl hyt be none,
And Goddys seruyse be al done.
Alas, wykkédly he dyspendyþ
Alle þe lyfe þat God hym sendyth!
Take furþe þe chesse or þe tabler;
So shal he pley tyl hyt be none,
And Goddys seruyse be al done.
Alas, wykkédly he dyspendyþ
Alle þe lyfe þat God hym sendyth!
Aftyr þe none, þan shal he do
As he dede before none so.
Swyche a lyfe þan shal he lede,
Noght þat he shal haue to mede;
yn alle hys lyfe shal he [nat] fynde
Oght þat may hym of pyne vnbynde;
No more he halt to God cunnaunt,
But weyl more to Termagaunt;
He ys no morë crystyn man
Þan who so kallyþ a blak oxe ‘swan.’
As he dede before none so.
Swyche a lyfe þan shal he lede,
Noght þat he shal haue to mede;
yn alle hys lyfe shal he [nat] fynde
Oght þat may hym of pyne vnbynde;
No more he halt to God cunnaunt,
But weyl more to Termagaunt;
He ys no morë crystyn man
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y dar weyl seye to hygh and logh,
yn Goddys seruyse are swych men slogh.
Swych synne men kalle ‘accyde,’
yn Goddës seruyse slogh betyde.
lord! what shal swych men seye
yn þat poynt when þey shul deye?
yn alle here lyfe ne roght þey noght
Of hym þat hem ful derë boght.
Ful gretly shul þey hem repente
whan þe dome ys aȝens hem went;
But þan mow þey do no bote;
Ylyche logh lyþ boþe hande and fote.
yn Goddys seruyse are swych men slogh.
Swych synne men kalle ‘accyde,’
yn Goddës seruyse slogh betyde.
lord! what shal swych men seye
yn þat poynt when þey shul deye?
yn alle here lyfe ne roght þey noght
Of hym þat hem ful derë boght.
Ful gretly shul þey hem repente
whan þe dome ys aȝens hem went;
But þan mow þey do no bote;
Ylyche logh lyþ boþe hande and fote.
Many swyche mow haue no grace
To repentaunce, no to space.
Hyt ys no wundyr þogh þey haue noun,
Þey wyl nat graunte þey haue mysdoun,
Yn here lyfe, whyle þey haue myght;
And þan shal God ȝelde alle with ryght.
Ful slogh þey were when þey shuld wyrk;
Yn tyme of traueyle were þey yrk;
Þéy þoght nat of þat men spelle,
Þat God seyþ yn þe gospelle:
“Beþ wakyng,” he seyþ, to men alle;
“what tymë þat ȝoure lorde wyl kalle,
For þat tyme þat ȝe lestë wene
He wul ȝow kalle; loke ȝe be clene;
For ȝyf ȝe slepe at hys kallyng
Ȝe shul nat come yn at þe weddyng.”
To repentaunce, no to space.
Hyt ys no wundyr þogh þey haue noun,
Þey wyl nat graunte þey haue mysdoun,
Yn here lyfe, whyle þey haue myght;
And þan shal God ȝelde alle with ryght.
Ful slogh þey were when þey shuld wyrk;
Yn tyme of traueyle were þey yrk;
Þéy þoght nat of þat men spelle,
Þat God seyþ yn þe gospelle:
“Beþ wakyng,” he seyþ, to men alle;
“what tymë þat ȝoure lorde wyl kalle,
For þat tyme þat ȝe lestë wene
He wul ȝow kalle; loke ȝe be clene;
For ȝyf ȝe slepe at hys kallyng
Ȝe shul nat come yn at þe weddyng.”
Þys yche lorde kalleþ vs euery day,
wyþ þe prechour, alle þat he may.
Ȝe are slogh, and lyen to slepe,
whan ȝe aȝens þe prechur þrepe;
Ȝe mow nat come yn to þe weddyng,—
Heuene blys ys þe menyng;—
For ȝe slepe yn wykked wyl,
And wyl nat shryue ȝow of ȝoure yl.
ȝe wenë þat God shal ȝow ȝeue,
Yn wykkednes, long to leue;
And ȝe here seyë þat sum whyle,
Yn swychë hope goþ mochë gyle.
wyþ þe prechour, alle þat he may.
Ȝe are slogh, and lyen to slepe,
whan ȝe aȝens þe prechur þrepe;
Ȝe mow nat come yn to þe weddyng,—
Heuene blys ys þe menyng;—
For ȝe slepe yn wykked wyl,
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ȝe wenë þat God shal ȝow ȝeue,
Yn wykkednes, long to leue;
And ȝe here seyë þat sum whyle,
Yn swychë hope goþ mochë gyle.
A lytyl tale y shal ȝow vndo
Of a man þat hoped so,
As tellyþ þe holy man, seynt Bede,
Yn gestys of Ingland þat men rede.
Of a man þat hoped so,
As tellyþ þe holy man, seynt Bede,
Yn gestys of Ingland þat men rede.
[The Tale of the English Squire who put off his Repentance till too late.]
Þyr was a kyng, ‘Conred’ he hyght, Atale.
Þe Mercë was hys kyngdom ryȝt;
þe Merce hyght þan, as y herd seye,
Þat men kalle now Lyndëseye.
Þys Conred had a seriaunt,
A wys man, and of body vaylaunt;
yn armys was a doghty squyere,
yn alle þe lande ne was hys pere.
Of a vyce, he hadde sum deyl,
Þat no man myght trowe him weyl;
where þat he myght make a wanlace,
And any þyng to þe kyng purchace,
He ne lette for no fals oth,
Ne for wraþþe of lefe ne loth,
Þat he ne made ofte dysheresun,
And holy cherche traueylede with tresun.
For wrong ne lefte he nyȝt ne day,
But onely he serued þe kyng to pay;
He ne ȝaf tale of shame ne synne,
But þat onely he myght rycchesse wynne.
Þe Mercë was hys kyngdom ryȝt;
þe Merce hyght þan, as y herd seye,
Þat men kalle now Lyndëseye.
Þys Conred had a seriaunt,
A wys man, and of body vaylaunt;
yn armys was a doghty squyere,
yn alle þe lande ne was hys pere.
Of a vyce, he hadde sum deyl,
Þat no man myght trowe him weyl;
where þat he myght make a wanlace,
And any þyng to þe kyng purchace,
He ne lette for no fals oth,
Ne for wraþþe of lefe ne loth,
Þat he ne made ofte dysheresun,
And holy cherche traueylede with tresun.
For wrong ne lefte he nyȝt ne day,
But onely he serued þe kyng to pay;
He ne ȝaf tale of shame ne synne,
But þat onely he myght rycchesse wynne.
Þyr fyl on hym a syknes so stronge
Þat he lay yn hys beddë long.
Sone aftyr betydde a lyte
Þe kyng come, hym to vysyte,
And bad hym be of répentaunce,
And shryue hys synne for allë chaunce;
“Forsake now,” he seyde, “alle þy mysdede,
And y shal fynde þe at þy nede.”
He seyde, “so shall y aftyrwarde;
Ȝyf y may skape þys euyl harde,
Þan shal y do oueral ryght,
And ȝeue me al to God almyght;
But ȝyt wyl y do hyt yn respyte
Tyl y be of þys euyl alle quyte;
Y wul nat be founde so vyl
Þat myn herte were yn swyche peryl
To repente me for a lytyl syknes,
But ȝyf y were yn harder stres.
Ȝyf y, for dredë, aske a preste,
Þat shame shulde al day be me neste
Þat y were a-ferd of þe ded.
Y wyl nat ȝyt do at þy rede;
But lefë syre, latyþ me lye;
Alle þat ȝe seye, me þynkeþ folye.”
Þat he lay yn hys beddë long.
Sone aftyr betydde a lyte
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And bad hym be of répentaunce,
And shryue hys synne for allë chaunce;
“Forsake now,” he seyde, “alle þy mysdede,
And y shal fynde þe at þy nede.”
He seyde, “so shall y aftyrwarde;
Ȝyf y may skape þys euyl harde,
Þan shal y do oueral ryght,
And ȝeue me al to God almyght;
But ȝyt wyl y do hyt yn respyte
Tyl y be of þys euyl alle quyte;
Y wul nat be founde so vyl
Þat myn herte were yn swyche peryl
To repente me for a lytyl syknes,
But ȝyf y were yn harder stres.
Ȝyf y, for dredë, aske a preste,
Þat shame shulde al day be me neste
Þat y were a-ferd of þe ded.
Y wyl nat ȝyt do at þy rede;
But lefë syre, latyþ me lye;
Alle þat ȝe seye, me þynkeþ folye.”
Þe kyng lettyd þarforë noȝt;
To leue hys synne, efte he hym besoght,
For he helde hym of gretë prys
For þat he was boþe doghty and wys.
To leue hys synne, efte he hym besoght,
For he helde hym of gretë prys
For þat he was boþe doghty and wys.
And þys ys a custummable þyng
Now, wyþ euëry lordyng,
Þat, ȝyf his stuwarde hym oght wynne,
Be hyt wyþ ryght, or wyþ synne,
Hym wyl he holdë most pryue
Of allë þo þat wyþ hym be.
But as he takeþ þerof þe frame,
He shal haue parte of synne and shame.
Now, wyþ euëry lordyng,
Þat, ȝyf his stuwarde hym oght wynne,
Be hyt wyþ ryght, or wyþ synne,
Hym wyl he holdë most pryue
Of allë þo þat wyþ hym be.
But as he takeþ þerof þe frame,
He shal haue parte of synne and shame.
þe kyng come eft to þe seriaunt,
And bad hym to be répentaunt,
And þenk on hys saluacyun,
And shryue hys synne þat he had doun.
“Syre,” he seyd, “þys ys my chaunce,
Hyt ys noght my répentaunce;
For, langér as y here lay,
Ryȝt at þe oure of mydday,
Twey ȝunge men come hedyr to me,
Þe feyrest þat any man myght se;
Me þoght, ryȝt whan y sagh þo,
Þat y felt no þyng of wo.
Byfore my bedde þey stode a þrowe,
And behelde me as they shuld me knowe;
when þey had stonde a lytyl tyde,
Þey set hem doune on my bedde syde.
when þey set were, furþ þey toke
And shewed a lytyl feyrë boke,
And bad me þat y shuld hyt rede,
For alle hyt was myn ownë dede;
And y þat neuer on bokë couþe,
Alle y hyt red with opun mouþe;
Alle þe gode dedys þat euer y wroght,
Alle were þere before me broght,
Þe lestë þoght þat y coulde þynke,
Þat of godenesse hadde any blynke,
Alle y sagh hyt before me,
For lytyl was hyt vnto se;
For lessë myȝt neuer haue bene
Ȝyf any man hyt shulde haue sene.
And bad hym to be répentaunt,
And þenk on hys saluacyun,
And shryue hys synne þat he had doun.
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Hyt ys noght my répentaunce;
For, langér as y here lay,
Ryȝt at þe oure of mydday,
Twey ȝunge men come hedyr to me,
Þe feyrest þat any man myght se;
Me þoght, ryȝt whan y sagh þo,
Þat y felt no þyng of wo.
Byfore my bedde þey stode a þrowe,
And behelde me as they shuld me knowe;
when þey had stonde a lytyl tyde,
Þey set hem doune on my bedde syde.
when þey set were, furþ þey toke
And shewed a lytyl feyrë boke,
And bad me þat y shuld hyt rede,
For alle hyt was myn ownë dede;
And y þat neuer on bokë couþe,
Alle y hyt red with opun mouþe;
Alle þe gode dedys þat euer y wroght,
Alle were þere before me broght,
Þe lestë þoght þat y coulde þynke,
Þat of godenesse hadde any blynke,
Alle y sagh hyt before me,
For lytyl was hyt vnto se;
For lessë myȝt neuer haue bene
Ȝyf any man hyt shulde haue sene.
“when y hadde reddeþat y myght rede,
Þey shette here boke, and furþ þey ȝede.
Sone aftyrward whan þey were gone,
Come ouþer two, sone anone;
Blak þey were, and foule stynkyng,
wyþ glesyng yȝen, and mouþe grennyng;
Þey come and stodë on my bedde;
Me þoght y wax nygh wode for dredde;
Y turned me on euery syde,
From hem myght y nat me hyde;
And as y me went hem to fle
Euer þey werë aȝens me.
But whan y sagh no better bote,
Y lay stylle boþe hand and fote;
whan þey had traueyled me so with yl,
A stoundë sate þey by me styl
And drogh furþ a mochë boke,—
Þe most þat y euer on gan loke:
So grete hyt was and so orryble,
þer-yn was more þan yn a byble;—
For alle þat y haue do wyþ synne,
Euery dele ys wryte þerynne,
And euery wurde with sorow and pyne
Þey made me redë, maugre myne;
Þe lestë wurde þat euer y þoght,
Þat vnto synne a-mountede oght,
was yn þat boke ful þykly dreuyn,
was none forȝetyn ne forȝeuyn;
And alle y redde, boþe lesse and more;
Þat was þe pyne þat pyned me sore.
Þey shette here boke, and furþ þey ȝede.
Sone aftyrward whan þey were gone,
Come ouþer two, sone anone;
Blak þey were, and foule stynkyng,
wyþ glesyng yȝen, and mouþe grennyng;
Þey come and stodë on my bedde;
Me þoght y wax nygh wode for dredde;
Y turned me on euery syde,
From hem myght y nat me hyde;
And as y me went hem to fle
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But whan y sagh no better bote,
Y lay stylle boþe hand and fote;
whan þey had traueyled me so with yl,
A stoundë sate þey by me styl
And drogh furþ a mochë boke,—
Þe most þat y euer on gan loke:
So grete hyt was and so orryble,
þer-yn was more þan yn a byble;—
For alle þat y haue do wyþ synne,
Euery dele ys wryte þerynne,
And euery wurde with sorow and pyne
Þey made me redë, maugre myne;
Þe lestë wurde þat euer y þoght,
Þat vnto synne a-mountede oght,
was yn þat boke ful þykly dreuyn,
was none forȝetyn ne forȝeuyn;
And alle y redde, boþe lesse and more;
Þat was þe pyne þat pyned me sore.
whan hyt was redd euerydeyl,
Þe boke was shet, and leyd vp weyl.
Þey ȝaue to me syþen alle here entent,
For to here wylle, y am alle went.
Twey brennyng knyuys þey oute drogh,
And seyd, “Do we oure dedë nowe;
Do we swyþe, and noght we dwelle,
And hast we vs wyþ hym to helle.”
Þe boke was shet, and leyd vp weyl.
Þey ȝaue to me syþen alle here entent,
For to here wylle, y am alle went.
Twey brennyng knyuys þey oute drogh,
And seyd, “Do we oure dedë nowe;
Do we swyþe, and noght we dwelle,
And hast we vs wyþ hym to helle.”
Þe toon þurgh myn hedë smote
wyþ þe knyfe þat was so hote;
Þe toþer smote me yn-to þe fete
Þat almost to-gedyr þe strokës mete;
But whan þey are to gedyr y-come,
And haue my herte betwyxe hem nome,
Þan shal y dey, and hennë wende
with þese to helle with-outyn ende.
wyþ þe knyfe þat was so hote;
Þe toþer smote me yn-to þe fete
Þat almost to-gedyr þe strokës mete;
But whan þey are to gedyr y-come,
And haue my herte betwyxe hem nome,
Þan shal y dey, and hennë wende
with þese to helle with-outyn ende.
wharto shuld y þan me repente
whan y wote my Iugëment?
And, þogh y myght lenger lyue,
No man myȝt hem me forȝyue;
Ȝyf y shulde haue any grace,
y shulde haue asked whan y had space;
But now y wote, ys al to late,
O poynt of my pyne to abate.
My synnes are grete, and many one;
Forȝeuënes shal be ryght none.”
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And, þogh y myght lenger lyue,
No man myȝt hem me forȝyue;
Ȝyf y shulde haue any grace,
y shulde haue asked whan y had space;
But now y wote, ys al to late,
O poynt of my pyne to abate.
My synnes are grete, and many one;
Forȝeuënes shal be ryght none.”
Alle he tolde þys to þe kyng,
And asswyþe made hys endyng;
And ȝede to helle, and was forlore
For sloghnes, as y tolde byfore.
And asswyþe made hys endyng;
And ȝede to helle, and was forlore
For sloghnes, as y tolde byfore.
whan a man ys slogh, and wyl nat do
Þat holy cherche techyþ hym to,
Aȝens God he ys froward,
And yn hys synne he wexeþ hard;
Þan puttyþ þe fende yn hys þoght
Þat hys synne ys lytyl or noght;
And when tyme werë, mercy calle,
yn wanhope, he makeþ hym falle.
And alle ys þys for sloghþehede,
whan man betyme wyl haue no drede;
Þarefore seyþ þe kyng Salamon
“Beþ nat ydul, neuer none,”
For ȝoure gode dedys, ȝe shul hem fynde,
Oute of pyne þey wyl ȝow vnbynde.
he þat ys slogh yn euery gode dede,
what shal helpe whan he haþ nede?
Þat holy cherche techyþ hym to,
Aȝens God he ys froward,
And yn hys synne he wexeþ hard;
Þan puttyþ þe fende yn hys þoght
Þat hys synne ys lytyl or noght;
And when tyme werë, mercy calle,
yn wanhope, he makeþ hym falle.
And alle ys þys for sloghþehede,
whan man betyme wyl haue no drede;
Þarefore seyþ þe kyng Salamon
“Beþ nat ydul, neuer none,”
For ȝoure gode dedys, ȝe shul hem fynde,
Oute of pyne þey wyl ȝow vnbynde.
he þat ys slogh yn euery gode dede,
what shal helpe whan he haþ nede?
Þe holy man spekþ of a synne
Of sloghnes, þat men falle ynne;
Ȝyf þat any shuld oght weyl do,
hym loþyþ so gretly þarto
Þat he fondyþ on allë wyse
To do hyt on þe werst asyse.
Ȝyf he of Godys wurde oght here,
Þerof hym þynkeþ an hundred ȝere;
But ȝyf he be at any pleyyng
At þe ale house, or at any ouþer ianglyng
For to rage wyþ ylka fyle,
Þer þenkeþ hym but lytyl whyle.
Of sloghnes, þat men falle ynne;
Ȝyf þat any shuld oght weyl do,
hym loþyþ so gretly þarto
Þat he fondyþ on allë wyse
To do hyt on þe werst asyse.
Ȝyf he of Godys wurde oght here,
Þerof hym þynkeþ an hundred ȝere;
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At þe ale house, or at any ouþer ianglyng
For to rage wyþ ylka fyle,
Þer þenkeþ hym but lytyl whyle.
yn goddys seruyse are swyche men yrk;
when þey come vn-to þe kyrke
To here matynys or messë song,
hem þenkeþ hyt lastyþ ouer long;
Þan shal he iangle, or telle a tale,
Or wyte where þey shul haue þe beste ale.
Swyche synne ys kalled ‘accyde,’
yn gode dede to be slogh, or long abyde.
when þey come vn-to þe kyrke
To here matynys or messë song,
hem þenkeþ hyt lastyþ ouer long;
Þan shal he iangle, or telle a tale,
Or wyte where þey shul haue þe beste ale.
Swyche synne ys kalled ‘accyde,’
yn gode dede to be slogh, or long abyde.
Ȝyf any man be coupable yn þys,
yn swyche poyntys þat he haue do mys,
Be he hygh or be he logh,
He ys yn Goddys seruyse slogh.
But whan men heryn of þys preche,
Þat god of swyche wyl takë wreche;
‘A!’ lyghtly þey sey, as hyt may falle,
‘God haue mercy on vs alle;’
As who seye ‘ȝyf he wyl vs saue,
Or ȝyf he wyl nat; late vs beleue.’
yn swyche poyntys þat he haue do mys,
Be he hygh or be he logh,
He ys yn Goddys seruyse slogh.
But whan men heryn of þys preche,
Þat god of swyche wyl takë wreche;
‘A!’ lyghtly þey sey, as hyt may falle,
‘God haue mercy on vs alle;’
As who seye ‘ȝyf he wyl vs saue,
Or ȝyf he wyl nat; late vs beleue.’
Nay, nay, hyt may nat be so,
Þyr behoueþ more þarto;
Þou gettyst nat heuene so lyghtly
But þou do yn dede more why.
Prey hym fyrst he ȝeue þe þat mede
Þat þou mayst serue hym wel yn dede:
Ȝyf þou praye þus and syþen wel do,
So mayst þou come hys mercy to;
And nat yn ydylnes, as ȝe þynke,
wel to ete and wel to drynke,
And ofte to swerë at youre wyl,
whan no man chargeþ ȝow þar tyl:
So come to heuene, hyt may nat be,
For, God hadde hyt neuer so fre.
Þyr behoueþ more þarto;
Þou gettyst nat heuene so lyghtly
But þou do yn dede more why.
Prey hym fyrst he ȝeue þe þat mede
Þat þou mayst serue hym wel yn dede:
Ȝyf þou praye þus and syþen wel do,
So mayst þou come hys mercy to;
And nat yn ydylnes, as ȝe þynke,
wel to ete and wel to drynke,
And ofte to swerë at youre wyl,
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So come to heuene, hyt may nat be,
For, God hadde hyt neuer so fre.
[Against Tournaments.]
Of tournamentys þat are forbede
yn holy cherchë, as men rede,
Of tournamentys y preue þerynne,
Seuene poyntës of dedly synne:
Fyrst, ys pryde, as þou wel wost,
Auauntëment, bobaunce, and bost;
Of ryche atyre ys here auaunce,
Prykyng here hors with olypraunce.
wete þou wel þer ys enuye
whan one seeþ anoþer do maystrye,
Oþer yn wurdys, oþer yn dedys;
Enuye moste of alle hem ledys.
Yre and wraþþe may þey nat late;
Ofte are tournamentys made for hate.
Ȝyf euery knyȝt louede oþer weyl,
Tournamentes shulde be neuer a deyl;
And certys þey falle yn sloghnes,
Þey loue hyt more þan God oþer messe;
And, þerof ys hyt no doute,
þey dyspende more gode þer aboute—
þat ys ȝeue allë to folye—
Þan to any dede of mercy.
yn holy cherchë, as men rede,
Of tournamentys y preue þerynne,
Seuene poyntës of dedly synne:
Fyrst, ys pryde, as þou wel wost,
Auauntëment, bobaunce, and bost;
Of ryche atyre ys here auaunce,
Prykyng here hors with olypraunce.
wete þou wel þer ys enuye
whan one seeþ anoþer do maystrye,
Oþer yn wurdys, oþer yn dedys;
Enuye moste of alle hem ledys.
Yre and wraþþe may þey nat late;
Ofte are tournamentys made for hate.
Ȝyf euery knyȝt louede oþer weyl,
Tournamentes shulde be neuer a deyl;
And certys þey falle yn sloghnes,
Þey loue hyt more þan God oþer messe;
And, þerof ys hyt no doute,
þey dyspende more gode þer aboute—
þat ys ȝeue allë to folye—
Þan to any dede of mercy.
And ȝyt may nat, on no wyse,
Be forgete dame coueytyse,
For she shal fonde, on allë wyse,
To wynnë hors, and harnyse.
And ȝyt shal he make sum robbery,
Or bygyle hys hoste þer he shal lye.
Be forgete dame coueytyse,
For she shal fonde, on allë wyse,
To wynnë hors, and harnyse.
And ȝyt shal he make sum robbery,
Or bygyle hys hoste þer he shal lye.
Glotonye also ys hem among,
Delycyus metes to make hem strong;
And drynke þe wyne þat he were lyght,
wyþ glotonye to make hym wyght.
154
And drynke þe wyne þat he were lyght,
wyþ glotonye to make hym wyght.
Ȝyt ys þere dame lecherye;
Of here cumþ allë here maystrye.
Many tymes, for wymmen sake,
knyghteys tournamentys make;
And whan he wendyþ to þe tournament
She sendyþ hym sum pryuy present,
And byt hym do for hys lemman
Yn vasshelage alle þat he kan;
So ys he bete þere, for here loue,
Þat he ne may sytte hys hors aboue,
Þat perauenture, yn alle hys lyue
Shal he neuer aftyr þryue.
loke now whedyr swyche tournours
Mow be kallëd turmentours?
For, þey turmente alle with synne;
Þere tourment ys, þer shul þey ynne,
But þey leuë swyche myschaunce,
And for here synnë do penaunce.
Of here cumþ allë here maystrye.
Many tymes, for wymmen sake,
knyghteys tournamentys make;
And whan he wendyþ to þe tournament
She sendyþ hym sum pryuy present,
And byt hym do for hys lemman
Yn vasshelage alle þat he kan;
So ys he bete þere, for here loue,
Þat he ne may sytte hys hors aboue,
Þat perauenture, yn alle hys lyue
Shal he neuer aftyr þryue.
loke now whedyr swyche tournours
Mow be kallëd turmentours?
For, þey turmente alle with synne;
Þere tourment ys, þer shul þey ynne,
But þey leuë swyche myschaunce,
And for here synnë do penaunce.
Also y tellë by iustyng,
Þér-of cumþ myschefful þyng;
Alle ys þe toon with þe touþer,
As a shyppe þat ys turned with þe roþer.
Þér-of cumþ myschefful þyng;
Alle ys þe toon with þe touþer,
As a shyppe þat ys turned with þe roþer.
And þese bourdys of þese squyers,
Also haue þey made for swyche maners
Of prydë, hatë, and enuye,
Sloghtnesse, coueytyse, and glotonye:
lecherye makþ hem alle to bygynne;
Þese wymmen are partyners of þere synne.
Also haue þey made for swyche maners
Of prydë, hatë, and enuye,
Sloghtnesse, coueytyse, and glotonye:
lecherye makþ hem alle to bygynne;
Þese wymmen are partyners of þere synne.
A clerk of order þat haþ þe name,
Ȝyf he iuste, he ys to blame,
Hyt were wurþy þat had þe gre,
Brokyn þe armë, legge, or thee;
hyt ys forsoþe, ȝyf he so werche,
Aȝens þe state of holy cherche.
Ȝyf he iuste, he ys to blame,
Hyt were wurþy þat had þe gre,
Brokyn þe armë, legge, or thee;
hyt ys forsoþe, ȝyf he so werche,
155
hyt ys forbode hym, yn þe decre,
Myrácles for to make or se;
For, myrácles ȝyf þou bygynne,
Hyt ys a gaderyng, a syght of synne,
Myrácles for to make or se;
For, myrácles ȝyf þou bygynne,
Hyt ys a gaderyng, a syght of synne,
He may yn þe cherche, þurgh þys resun,
Pley þe resurreccyun,—
Þat ys to seyë, how God ros,
God and man yn myȝt and los,—
To make men be yn beleuë gode
Þat he ros with flesshe and blode;
And he may pleye, withoutyn plyght
howe God was bore yn ȝolë nyght,
To make men to beleue stedfastly
Þat he lyght yn þe vyrgyne Mary.
Pley þe resurreccyun,—
Þat ys to seyë, how God ros,
God and man yn myȝt and los,—
To make men be yn beleuë gode
Þat he ros with flesshe and blode;
And he may pleye, withoutyn plyght
howe God was bore yn ȝolë nyght,
To make men to beleue stedfastly
Þat he lyght yn þe vyrgyne Mary.
Ȝif þou do hyt yn weyys or greuys,
A syght of synne truly hyt semys.
Seynt Ysodre, y take to wyttnes,
For he hyt seyþ, þat soþe hyt es;
þus hyt seyþ, yn hys boke,
Þey forsakë þat þey toke—
God and herë crystendam—
Þat make swyche pleyys to any man
As myrácles and bourdys,
Or tournamentys of grete prys.
þese are þe pompes þat þou forsoke,
Fryst whan þou þy crystendam toke.
At þe fonte, seyþ þe lewed man,
“y forsake þe, here, Satan,
And alle þy pompes and all thy werkys:”
Þys ys þy lore, aftyr þe clerkys.
haldyst þou forward, e, certys nay,
whan þou makyst swyche a-dray?
Aȝens God þou brekest cunnaunt,
And seruyst ȝoure syre, Termagaunt.
Seynt Ysodre seyþ yn hys wrytyng,
‘Alle þo þat delyte to se swyche þyng,
Or hors or harneys lenyþ þar-tyl;
Ȝyt haue þey gylt of here peryl.’
A syght of synne truly hyt semys.
Seynt Ysodre, y take to wyttnes,
For he hyt seyþ, þat soþe hyt es;
þus hyt seyþ, yn hys boke,
Þey forsakë þat þey toke—
God and herë crystendam—
Þat make swyche pleyys to any man
As myrácles and bourdys,
Or tournamentys of grete prys.
þese are þe pompes þat þou forsoke,
Fryst whan þou þy crystendam toke.
At þe fonte, seyþ þe lewed man,
“y forsake þe, here, Satan,
And alle þy pompes and all thy werkys:”
Þys ys þy lore, aftyr þe clerkys.
haldyst þou forward, e, certys nay,
whan þou makyst swyche a-dray?
Aȝens God þou brekest cunnaunt,
And seruyst ȝoure syre, Termagaunt.
156
‘Alle þo þat delyte to se swyche þyng,
Or hors or harneys lenyþ þar-tyl;
Ȝyt haue þey gylt of here peryl.’
Ȝyf prest or clerk lene vestëment
Þat halwed ys þurgh sacrament;
More þan ouþer þey are to blame,
Of sacrylege þey haue þe fame:
Famë, for þey falle yn plyght,
Þey shuld be chastysed þerfor with ryȝt.
Þat halwed ys þurgh sacrament;
More þan ouþer þey are to blame,
Of sacrylege þey haue þe fame:
Famë, for þey falle yn plyght,
Þey shuld be chastysed þerfor with ryȝt.
Daunces, karols, somour games,
Of many swych come many shames;
whan þou stodyst to makë þyse,
Þou art slogh yn Goddys seruyse;
And þat synnen yn swych þurgh þe,
For hem þou shalt a-couped be.
Of many swych come many shames;
whan þou stodyst to makë þyse,
Þou art slogh yn Goddys seruyse;
And þat synnen yn swych þurgh þe,
For hem þou shalt a-couped be.
what seye ȝe by euery mynstral,
Þat yn swyche þynges delyte hem alle?
Here doyng ys ful perylous,
Hyt loueth noþer God ne goddys house;
Hem were leuer here of a daunce,
Of bost, and of olypraunce,
Þan any gode of God of heuene,
Or ouþer wysdom þat were to neuene.
Yn foly ys allë þat þey gete,
here cloth, here drynkë, and here mete.
And, for swych þyng, telle y shal,
what byfyl onys of a mynstral:
Seynt Gregorye telleþ yn hys spell
how hyt of a mynstral fell.
Þat yn swyche þynges delyte hem alle?
Here doyng ys ful perylous,
Hyt loueth noþer God ne goddys house;
Hem were leuer here of a daunce,
Of bost, and of olypraunce,
Þan any gode of God of heuene,
Or ouþer wysdom þat were to neuene.
Yn foly ys allë þat þey gete,
here cloth, here drynkë, and here mete.
And, for swych þyng, telle y shal,
what byfyl onys of a mynstral:
Seynt Gregorye telleþ yn hys spell
how hyt of a mynstral fell.
[The Tale of the Minstrel who was kild for disturbing a Bishop.]
A mynstralle, a gulardous,
Come onys to a bysshopes hous
And asked þere þe charyte;
Þe porter lete hym haue entre;
Come onys to a bysshopes hous
157
Þe porter lete hym haue entre;
At tyme of mete, þe bourde was leyd,
And þe benesun shuld be seyd;
Þys mynstral made hys melody
with gretë noyse, and loude, and hy.
Of þe bysshope, þe famë ran
Þat he was an holy man;
Þe bysshope sette hym at þe bourde,
And shuld haue blessed hyt with wurde;
So was he sturbled with þe mynstral,
Þat he hadde no grace to sey with-alle
His graces ryght deuoutëly
For þe noyse of þe mynstralsy.
And þe benesun shuld be seyd;
Þys mynstral made hys melody
with gretë noyse, and loude, and hy.
Of þe bysshope, þe famë ran
Þat he was an holy man;
Þe bysshope sette hym at þe bourde,
And shuld haue blessed hyt with wurde;
So was he sturbled with þe mynstral,
Þat he hadde no grace to sey with-alle
His graces ryght deuoutëly
For þe noyse of þe mynstralsy.
Þe bysshope pleyned hym ful sore,
And seyd to allë þat were þore,
Þat he ne shulde make hys nycete
Before the graces of þe charyte.
He sagh hyt weyl, þurgh þe spryt,
Þat þer shuld come veniaunce astyt.
“Ȝyueþ hym þe charyte, & latyþ hym go;
Hys deþ ys nygh, þat shal hym slo.”
He toke charyte, and toke hys gate;
And as he passed out at þe ȝate,
A stonë fyl down of þe wal,
And slogh þerë þe mynstral.
And seyd to allë þat were þore,
Þat he ne shulde make hys nycete
Before the graces of þe charyte.
He sagh hyt weyl, þurgh þe spryt,
Þat þer shuld come veniaunce astyt.
“Ȝyueþ hym þe charyte, & latyþ hym go;
Hys deþ ys nygh, þat shal hym slo.”
He toke charyte, and toke hys gate;
And as he passed out at þe ȝate,
A stonë fyl down of þe wal,
And slogh þerë þe mynstral.
Þat betokened þat God was noght
Payd of þat þe mynstral wroght,
Þat he desturbled þe benesoun
And þe gode mannys deuocyoun.
Payd of þat þe mynstral wroght,
Þat he desturbled þe benesoun
And þe gode mannys deuocyoun.
Þys tolde y for þe glemennes sake,
To loke whan þey here gle shuld make;
And also for þo þat shuld hyt here,
Þat þey loue hyt nat so dere,
Ne haue þerynne so grete lykyng,
Þe lesse to wurschyp heuene kyng.
To loke whan þey here gle shuld make;
And also for þo þat shuld hyt here,
Þat þey loue hyt nat so dere,
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Þe lesse to wurschyp heuene kyng.
[A Tale of Bishop St. Robert Grostest of Lincoln, and why he lovd Music.]
Y shall ȝow telle, as y haue herd,
Of þe bysshope Seynt Roberd;
Hys tonamë ys ‘Grostest
Of Lynkolne,’ so seyþ þe gest.
he loued moche to here þe harpe,
For mannys wytte hyt makyþ sharpe;
Next hys chaumbre, besyde hys stody,
Hys harpers chaumbre was fast þerby.
Many tymes, be nyȝtys and dayys,
He had solace of notes and layys.
One asked hym onys, resun why
he hadde delyte yn mynstralsy:
he answerede hym on þys manere,
why he helde þe harper so dere,
“Þe vertu of þe harpe, þurgh skylle & ryȝt,
wyl destroye þe fendës myȝt,
And to þe croys by godë skylle
Ys þe harpë lykened weyle.
Of þe bysshope Seynt Roberd;
Hys tonamë ys ‘Grostest
Of Lynkolne,’ so seyþ þe gest.
he loued moche to here þe harpe,
For mannys wytte hyt makyþ sharpe;
Next hys chaumbre, besyde hys stody,
Hys harpers chaumbre was fast þerby.
Many tymes, be nyȝtys and dayys,
He had solace of notes and layys.
One asked hym onys, resun why
he hadde delyte yn mynstralsy:
he answerede hym on þys manere,
why he helde þe harper so dere,
“Þe vertu of þe harpe, þurgh skylle & ryȝt,
wyl destroye þe fendës myȝt,
And to þe croys by godë skylle
Ys þe harpë lykened weyle.
Anoþer poynt cumfórteþ me,
Þat God haþ sent vnto a tre
So mochë ioye to here with eere;
Moche þan morë ioye ys þere
with God hym-selfë, þere he wonys;
Þe harpe þerof me oftë mones;
Of þe ioye and of þe blys
where God hym-self wonys and ys.
Þare-for, gode men, ȝe shul lere,
whan ȝe any glemen here,
To wurschep God at ȝoure powere,
As Dauyd seyþ yn þe sautere,
“yn harpe, yn thabour, and symphan gle,
wurschepe God, yn troumpes, and sautre,
yn cordys, an organes, and bellys ryngyng,
yn al þese, wurschepe ȝe heuene kyng.”
Ȝyf ȝe do þus, y sey hardly,
Ȝe mow here ȝoure mynstralsy.
Þat God haþ sent vnto a tre
So mochë ioye to here with eere;
Moche þan morë ioye ys þere
with God hym-selfë, þere he wonys;
Þe harpe þerof me oftë mones;
Of þe ioye and of þe blys
where God hym-self wonys and ys.
Þare-for, gode men, ȝe shul lere,
whan ȝe any glemen here,
To wurschep God at ȝoure powere,
As Dauyd seyþ yn þe sautere,
“yn harpe, yn thabour, and symphan gle,
wurschepe God, yn troumpes, and sautre,
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yn al þese, wurschepe ȝe heuene kyng.”
Ȝyf ȝe do þus, y sey hardly,
Ȝe mow here ȝoure mynstralsy.
Ȝyf þou lyggë long yn synne,
And wylt nat ryse, ne þerof blynne,
Certeynly, for euery oure
Þou shalt ȝelde a-counte ful soure;
For euery oure þat þou þeryn lay
Yn purgatorye þou gest þy pay.
Hyt ys sloghnes, and kalled ‘accyde,’
Fro Goddys seruyse so long þe hyde.
And wylt nat ryse, ne þerof blynne,
Certeynly, for euery oure
Þou shalt ȝelde a-counte ful soure;
For euery oure þat þou þeryn lay
Yn purgatorye þou gest þy pay.
Hyt ys sloghnes, and kalled ‘accyde,’
Fro Goddys seruyse so long þe hyde.
And some, alle þe ȝere wyllyn abyde
Of shryftë tyl þe lentyn tyde;
And nygh tyl lentyn be al gone
Mede for fastyng gete þey none;
Þat ys, for sloghnes þey wyl nat ryse;
lyggyng yn synne, ys lore seruyse.
Of shryftë tyl þe lentyn tyde;
And nygh tyl lentyn be al gone
Mede for fastyng gete þey none;
Þat ys, for sloghnes þey wyl nat ryse;
lyggyng yn synne, ys lore seruyse.
And, sum men, yn alle here lyue,
Clenly ne wylë þey hem shryue;
For þey synne alle yn hope of grace,
At here endyng wene þey haue space;
Þan þenkë þey to shryue hem clene:
To swyche men, God sheweþ hys tene.
Hyt ys seyd al day, for þys skyl,
“he þat wyl nat whan he may,
He shal nat, when he wyl, [haue pay.]”
And þer byþ many one ful euyl to wynne
To any godenes fro vylë synne;
Euyl tokyn hyt ys of swyche a man,
God hym deme; for y ne kan.
Clenly ne wylë þey hem shryue;
For þey synne alle yn hope of grace,
At here endyng wene þey haue space;
Þan þenkë þey to shryue hem clene:
To swyche men, God sheweþ hys tene.
Hyt ys seyd al day, for þys skyl,
“he þat wyl nat whan he may,
He shal nat, when he wyl, [haue pay.]”
And þer byþ many one ful euyl to wynne
To any godenes fro vylë synne;
Euyl tokyn hyt ys of swyche a man,
God hym deme; for y ne kan.
And þyr are ouþer þat mys dous,
As a best, for defaute þat goþ lous.
But whan men techë hem þe wey,
And þey wyl do as men hem sey;
A tokyn hyt ys, þey shul haue grace
To come to God, and hauë space.
And he may hope of euyl endyng
Þat nonë may to Godë brynge.
As a best, for defaute þat goþ lous.
But whan men techë hem þe wey,
And þey wyl do as men hem sey;
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To come to God, and hauë space.
And he may hope of euyl endyng
Þat nonë may to Godë brynge.
A slogh messagere, hys wylland,
Þat charged ys wyþ lordes erand,
Ȝyf he go nat as he ys sent,
He ys wurþy to be shent.
Man þat wel spedyþ hym yn dede,
And messáger smart at nede,
Þey shul stonde byfore þe kyng,
And hauë mede to here askyng.
Þat charged ys wyþ lordes erand,
Ȝyf he go nat as he ys sent,
He ys wurþy to be shent.
Man þat wel spedyþ hym yn dede,
And messáger smart at nede,
Þey shul stonde byfore þe kyng,
And hauë mede to here askyng.
A persone ys slogh yn holy cherche
Þat on hys shepë wyl nat werche
How þey shul hem-self[ë] ȝeme,
And God and holy cherche to queme.
Þe hyghë shepard shal hym blame,
how he lateþ hem go to shame.
Þat on hys shepë wyl nat werche
How þey shul hem-self[ë] ȝeme,
And God and holy cherche to queme.
Þe hyghë shepard shal hym blame,
how he lateþ hem go to shame.
Ȝyf he se yn any þyng
Þat þey haue defaute of chastysyng,
But he teche hem and chastyse so
Þat þey forward better do,
For hem he shal, at þe assyse,
Be ponysshed before þe hygh Iustyse.
Also behoueþ hym, for hem pray,
Þat God, of grace, wysse hem þe wey.
Þat þey haue defaute of chastysyng,
But he teche hem and chastyse so
Þat þey forward better do,
For hem he shal, at þe assyse,
Be ponysshed before þe hygh Iustyse.
Also behoueþ hym, for hem pray,
Þat God, of grace, wysse hem þe wey.
Ȝyf any of hem defautë has,
And he may helpe hem yn þat kas,
And wyl nat, for vnkyndhede,
But late hem perysshe þer for nede,
Ful harde a-countë shal he ȝelde
Þat he myȝt helpe whan he ne welde.
Ȝyf he kyndly vndyrstode,
Of hem he haþ al hys gode;
For, God seyþ yn þe gospel þys,
Vpbreydyng hem when þey do mys:
Þe mylke, þe wulle, þey wyl receyue;
And syþþen þe shepe þey wyle late weyue.
Holy wrytë swyche men holdes
As wyldë wuluës brekyng foldes.
Swyche a personë ys ful slogh,
Be he hygh, or be he logh.
And he may helpe hem yn þat kas,
And wyl nat, for vnkyndhede,
But late hem perysshe þer for nede,
Ful harde a-countë shal he ȝelde
Þat he myȝt helpe whan he ne welde.
Ȝyf he kyndly vndyrstode,
Of hem he haþ al hys gode;
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Vpbreydyng hem when þey do mys:
Þe mylke, þe wulle, þey wyl receyue;
And syþþen þe shepe þey wyle late weyue.
Holy wrytë swyche men holdes
As wyldë wuluës brekyng foldes.
Swyche a personë ys ful slogh,
Be he hygh, or be he logh.
Man or womman þat haþ a chylde
Þat wyþ vnþewys wexyþ wylde,
Þat wyl boþe myssey and do,
Chastysment behoueþ þarto;
But ȝe hem chastyse at ȝoure myȝt,
Ȝe falle, ellys, for hem yn plyȝt.
Better were þe chylde vnbore
Þan fayle chastysyng, and syþþen lore.
Þus seyth þe wys kyng Salamonn
To men and wymmen euerychonn,
“wyle ȝe þat ȝoure chyldryn be a-ferd,
Ȝyueþ hem þe smert ende of þe ȝerde;”
And techeþ hem gode þewys echone;
Ȝyt dur ȝow brekë hem no bone.
Þat wyþ vnþewys wexyþ wylde,
Þat wyl boþe myssey and do,
Chastysment behoueþ þarto;
But ȝe hem chastyse at ȝoure myȝt,
Ȝe falle, ellys, for hem yn plyȝt.
Better were þe chylde vnbore
Þan fayle chastysyng, and syþþen lore.
Þus seyth þe wys kyng Salamonn
To men and wymmen euerychonn,
“wyle ȝe þat ȝoure chyldryn be a-ferd,
Ȝyueþ hem þe smert ende of þe ȝerde;”
And techeþ hem gode þewys echone;
Ȝyt dur ȝow brekë hem no bone.
[The Tale of the Father that would not chastise his Child.]
y shal ȝow telle a wundyr þyng
Þat fylle for defaute of chastysyng:
Seynt Gregory telleþ, þat mochë kan,
Of a folë husbunde man
Þat hatede a chylde þat he furþe broght
wykkedly, for he chastyed hym noght.
Þys chylde was wurþy for to blame,
For ofte he cursed Goddys name;
whan aght was do aȝens hys wylle,
He cursede Goddys name wyþ ylle.
Seynt Gregory tellyþ hyt wyþ grete eye;
But as he seyþ, þan dar y seye.
Þat fylle for defaute of chastysyng:
Seynt Gregory telleþ, þat mochë kan,
Of a folë husbunde man
Þat hatede a chylde þat he furþe broght
wykkedly, for he chastyed hym noght.
Þys chylde was wurþy for to blame,
For ofte he cursed Goddys name;
whan aght was do aȝens hys wylle,
He cursede Goddys name wyþ ylle.
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But as he seyþ, þan dar y seye.
Þys ychë chyld [sone] aftyrward
Fyl yn[to] a syknes hard;
Þe fadyr hadde þerof pyte,
Þe chyld he daunted on hys kne,
And haddë þarfor mochë kare
Þat he sagh hys chylde so fare;
For hyt began to braye and crye
As, þogh hyt shuld al to-flye.
Fyl yn[to] a syknes hard;
Þe fadyr hadde þerof pyte,
Þe chyld he daunted on hys kne,
And haddë þarfor mochë kare
Þat he sagh hys chylde so fare;
For hyt began to braye and crye
As, þogh hyt shuld al to-flye.
Þe fadyr asked, why hyt so ferde,
Or what hyt sagh, or what hyt herde.
Þe chyldë seyd “blake men, blake,
Aré aboutë, me to take;
Me, wyþ hem, wyl þey lede,
Y ne shal skapë for no nede.”
Yn þe fadrys bosum hyt wulde hym hyde,
But þe fende, þat ychë tyde,
Refte þe saulë vnto helle.
Þan began þe chylde to ȝelle,
And cursed onys Goddys name,
And deyde, and ȝede to helle with shame.
Or what hyt sagh, or what hyt herde.
Þe chyldë seyd “blake men, blake,
Aré aboutë, me to take;
Me, wyþ hem, wyl þey lede,
Y ne shal skapë for no nede.”
Yn þe fadrys bosum hyt wulde hym hyde,
But þe fende, þat ychë tyde,
Refte þe saulë vnto helle.
Þan began þe chylde to ȝelle,
And cursed onys Goddys name,
And deyde, and ȝede to helle with shame.
Þys yche chylde þat y haue of tolde,
was but fyuë wyntyr olde.
Þus þe chylde þat was so ȝunge
was lore for faute of chastysynge.
But þe fadyr, þat no gode couþe,
Myȝte haue chastyëd hym with mouþe,
Stoutly, for euery a lak,
And betë hyt, whan hyt so spak.
was but fyuë wyntyr olde.
Þus þe chylde þat was so ȝunge
was lore for faute of chastysynge.
But þe fadyr, þat no gode couþe,
Myȝte haue chastyëd hym with mouþe,
Stoutly, for euery a lak,
And betë hyt, whan hyt so spak.
Oueral y se þys custome wonys;
Rychë men haue shrewed sonys,—
Shrewys yn dedë and yn sawe,—
why? For þey haue nonnë awe.
Yn hys ȝouþe shal he mysseye
And skornë ouþer by þe weye;
Þan seyþ þe fadyr “þys chyldys wurde
Ne shal nat ley allë yn hurde.”
And ȝyf he lernë gylerye,
Fals wurde and feynt trenlyng with ye,
Þat halte hys fadyr a queyntyse
And of slygh wyt, to knowe þat wyse.
Ȝyf he do skaþe gladly with fyght,
Þan seyþ þe fadyr “he shal be wyght;
He shal be hardy, and no man drede,
He begynneþ be tyme be doghty yn dede.”
But ryght so shal hyt of hem falle
As dyd of Ely sonys alle.
y shal ȝow telle, to preue my sawe,
what fyl yn þe oldë lawe.
yn þe byble hyt tellyþ, þat toucheþ swych þynges,
yn þe holy boke of kynges;
And wrytë hyt ys opunly,
Of a patryark, syre Ely.
Rychë men haue shrewed sonys,—
Shrewys yn dedë and yn sawe,—
why? For þey haue nonnë awe.
Yn hys ȝouþe shal he mysseye
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Þan seyþ þe fadyr “þys chyldys wurde
Ne shal nat ley allë yn hurde.”
And ȝyf he lernë gylerye,
Fals wurde and feynt trenlyng with ye,
Þat halte hys fadyr a queyntyse
And of slygh wyt, to knowe þat wyse.
Ȝyf he do skaþe gladly with fyght,
Þan seyþ þe fadyr “he shal be wyght;
He shal be hardy, and no man drede,
He begynneþ be tyme be doghty yn dede.”
But ryght so shal hyt of hem falle
As dyd of Ely sonys alle.
y shal ȝow telle, to preue my sawe,
what fyl yn þe oldë lawe.
yn þe byble hyt tellyþ, þat toucheþ swych þynges,
yn þe holy boke of kynges;
And wrytë hyt ys opunly,
Of a patryark, syre Ely.
[The tale of ‘Syre Ely’ and his wicked Sons.]
Þys Ely was a man ryȝt ryche,
And, to hys chyldrén ryght blyche;
he hadde twey sonys, þat ys no les,
‘Ofnee’ the toon hyght, þe touþer ‘Fynees.’
Þese twey chyldryn dyd ful wykkedly
To man and woman þat þey come by;
Lyers, robbours, and lechours,
Skorners, and also auoutours;
wymmen þat to þe temple come,
here offryng from hem þey nome.
Þese wymmen come to syre Ely,
And pleyned hem of grete vyleynye,
‘Þat hys sonys were vnhende,
hem also for to shende.
O defaute was, þey by hem lay;
A-noþer, þey bare here offryng away.’
“Do þerof sum chástysyng,
For þe loue of heuene kyng!”
And, to hys chyldrén ryght blyche;
he hadde twey sonys, þat ys no les,
‘Ofnee’ the toon hyght, þe touþer ‘Fynees.’
Þese twey chyldryn dyd ful wykkedly
To man and woman þat þey come by;
Lyers, robbours, and lechours,
Skorners, and also auoutours;
wymmen þat to þe temple come,
here offryng from hem þey nome.
Þese wymmen come to syre Ely,
And pleyned hem of grete vyleynye,
‘Þat hys sonys were vnhende,
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O defaute was, þey by hem lay;
A-noþer, þey bare here offryng away.’
“Do þerof sum chástysyng,
For þe loue of heuene kyng!”
Here fadyr Ely þan was wo,
For þat yche fame shulde of hem go.
Ely kalled hys sone, “Ofnee
And Fyneës, come ȝe to me!
Sonës,” he seyde, “ȝe are me dere;
y bydde ȝow boþe, on feyre manere,
Þat ȝe leue ȝoure foly dedes,
And ouþer foly þat ȝow ledys;
Y herë of ȝow foulë fame,
Þe folkë seyn ȝe are to blame;
Y rede ȝe leue alle swych foly,
Þat y of ȝow here no more cry.”
For þat yche fame shulde of hem go.
Ely kalled hys sone, “Ofnee
And Fyneës, come ȝe to me!
Sonës,” he seyde, “ȝe are me dere;
y bydde ȝow boþe, on feyre manere,
Þat ȝe leue ȝoure foly dedes,
And ouþer foly þat ȝow ledys;
Y herë of ȝow foulë fame,
Þe folkë seyn ȝe are to blame;
Y rede ȝe leue alle swych foly,
Þat y of ȝow here no more cry.”
Þese chyldryn were strong and stout;
Of fadres byddyng þey hadde no dout,
But werë shrewys for þe more,
Or werse þan þey hadde be byfore;
And God was wroþe wyþ here mysdede
Þat þey ne leftë for no drede;
And, God was wyþ Ely wroþe,
For he dyd hys sones no loþe,
To chastyse hem wyþ fyn awe
And with þe smartnes of þe lawe.
Of fadres byddyng þey hadde no dout,
But werë shrewys for þe more,
Or werse þan þey hadde be byfore;
And God was wroþe wyþ here mysdede
Þat þey ne leftë for no drede;
And, God was wyþ Ely wroþe,
For he dyd hys sones no loþe,
To chastyse hem wyþ fyn awe
And with þe smartnes of þe lawe.
Þarfor toke god hys venïaunce
Of hem, and mo, for þat myschaunce;
He lete þe fals Phylystyens,
Þe folk of Isrel to werre aȝens.
Ely and hys, þey gunne assayle,
And ouercome hem tweys yn batayle.
Of hem, and mo, for þat myschaunce;
He lete þe fals Phylystyens,
Þe folk of Isrel to werre aȝens.
Ely and hys, þey gunne assayle,
And ouercome hem tweys yn batayle.
Þese Phylystyens þat hadde þe maystry,
Beleuyd on Dagoun, a maumettry.
On a god þat þey kalled Dagoun,
Beleued þe Phylystynes echoun.
Þarefor hyt was but Goddys suffraunce
Þat shewyd why þey hadde swych chaunce.
Beleuyd on Dagoun, a maumettry.
On a god þat þey kalled Dagoun,
Beleued þe Phylystynes echoun.
Þarefor hyt was but Goddys suffraunce
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Þe folk of Isrel had þoght, and syghte,
For þey were twyys scumfyghte;
Þey ordeyned hem on allë wyse
how þey shulde best to batayle ryse,
Aȝens þe Phylystynes for to go,
And hem dyscumfytë and slo.
þey ordeyned hem for to bere
Goddys arke with hem yn to were.
Ely sones were stoute and stark,
And were chose to bere Goddys ark;
For reuerence þey ded hyt, of Ely,
And for þey were of body doghty.
For þey were twyys scumfyghte;
Þey ordeyned hem on allë wyse
how þey shulde best to batayle ryse,
Aȝens þe Phylystynes for to go,
And hem dyscumfytë and slo.
þey ordeyned hem for to bere
Goddys arke with hem yn to were.
Ely sones were stoute and stark,
And were chose to bere Goddys ark;
For reuerence þey ded hyt, of Ely,
And for þey were of body doghty.
Goddys ark was of swych manere
As men make now shrynës here.
yn þys ark werë þre þynges
Þat men ȝaue to here offrynges;
Þar-yn was Moyses table
whar-on God wrote þe lawë stable;
And Aarons ȝerd, and a potte of golde:
Þese þre relykes þey helde ful holde.
Yn þe pottë was a floure,
whyte, and swete of al sauoure,
Þat floure ys kalled ‘aungelys mete’
Þat God ȝafe þe folke to ete
whan þey were yn wyldernes
Forty wyntyr, yn hard stres.
Þese þyngës þan bare Ely sones
yn-to þe batayle þat ȝyt of mones.
As men make now shrynës here.
yn þys ark werë þre þynges
Þat men ȝaue to here offrynges;
Þar-yn was Moyses table
whar-on God wrote þe lawë stable;
And Aarons ȝerd, and a potte of golde:
Þese þre relykes þey helde ful holde.
Yn þe pottë was a floure,
whyte, and swete of al sauoure,
Þat floure ys kalled ‘aungelys mete’
Þat God ȝafe þe folke to ete
whan þey were yn wyldernes
Forty wyntyr, yn hard stres.
Þese þyngës þan bare Ely sones
yn-to þe batayle þat ȝyt of mones.
Þe phylystyens come hem for to assayle,
And slogh Ely sonës yn batayle,
And rauysshed Goddys ark þere,
And slogh þe folk þat þer were,
And þe relykys þat þere were ynne:
Alle were lore for þe sonys synne.
And slogh Ely sonës yn batayle,
And rauysshed Goddys ark þere,
And slogh þe folk þat þer were,
And þe relykys þat þere were ynne:
Alle were lore for þe sonys synne.
whan þe folk to þe batayle fore,
Ely sette hym at þe temple dore
yn a chayre, and was herkenyng
Fro þe batayle sum tydyng,
On what manere þe folk shulde spede,
For of Goddys ark he had grete drede.
Ely sette hym at þe temple dore
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Fro þe batayle sum tydyng,
On what manere þe folk shulde spede,
For of Goddys ark he had grete drede.
One come rennyng hastyly,
And broghte þys tydyng to Ely
Þat hys sonys were boþe slayn,
And Goddys ark with myght and mayn
was bore away for euermore.
Alas, þe sorow þat he hadde þerfore!
whan Ely herd þys euyl tydyng,
For sorowe he gan hys handys wryng,
And fyl bakward of hys chayre,
And brak on two hys swyer;
And of hys hede he brake þe bone,
Þe harnës lay vpp-on þe stone.
And broghte þys tydyng to Ely
Þat hys sonys were boþe slayn,
And Goddys ark with myght and mayn
was bore away for euermore.
Alas, þe sorow þat he hadde þerfore!
whan Ely herd þys euyl tydyng,
For sorowe he gan hys handys wryng,
And fyl bakward of hys chayre,
And brak on two hys swyer;
And of hys hede he brake þe bone,
Þe harnës lay vpp-on þe stone.
Þys ychë tale ys no tryfyl,
For hyt ys wryte yn þe bybyl;
And to ȝow y telle hyt here,
Ȝoure sonys to chastyse and to lere,
Þat ȝe, ne þey, be nat shent
For defaute of chastysment
Bodyly, yn þys worlde here,
And aftyr þat, þe soule so dere.
For hyt ys wryte yn þe bybyl;
And to ȝow y telle hyt here,
Ȝoure sonys to chastyse and to lere,
Þat ȝe, ne þey, be nat shent
For defaute of chastysment
Bodyly, yn þys worlde here,
And aftyr þat, þe soule so dere.
Þenkeþ on Ely and on hys sonys;
And to gode ȝoure chyldryn wones.
For, ryght so as hem gan tyde,
Swyche as þey were, þe same mow byde.
Of sloghnes þys ys þe assyse
whan þou wylt nat betyme chastyse.
And to gode ȝoure chyldryn wones.
For, ryght so as hem gan tyde,
Swyche as þey were, þe same mow byde.
Of sloghnes þys ys þe assyse
whan þou wylt nat betyme chastyse.
Ȝyt ys þyr an ydulnes,—
A grete vnwysdom for soþe hyt ys,—
whan a ȝunge man dragh lyte on lenkþe,
And wyl nat trauayle yn hys ȝungþe,
Ne lernë hym craft for to wynne,
Yn hys agë to leue wel ynne.
Certes me þenkeþ hym ful slogh;
Hys þryfte wyl melte away with snogh.
And þogh a man haue oght erytage
Þat he may lyue wyþ weyl yn age,
Certes ȝyt behoueþ hym lere
Manhede and curtesye yn fere.
A man hys manhedë shal ȝerne
hymself and hys meynë to gouerne.
A grete vnwysdom for soþe hyt ys,—
whan a ȝunge man dragh lyte on lenkþe,
And wyl nat trauayle yn hys ȝungþe,
Ne lernë hym craft for to wynne,
Yn hys agë to leue wel ynne.
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Hys þryfte wyl melte away with snogh.
And þogh a man haue oght erytage
Þat he may lyue wyþ weyl yn age,
Certes ȝyt behoueþ hym lere
Manhede and curtesye yn fere.
A man hys manhedë shal ȝerne
hymself and hys meynë to gouerne.
Þus seyþ þe kyng Salamon,
And þese holy men echone;
“Hyt ys an ydulnes yn here lyfe,
Alle þat ouþer man or wyfe
Trauayleþ for þe lyuës fode,
And lytyl for þe soulës gode.
And þese holy men echone;
“Hyt ys an ydulnes yn here lyfe,
Alle þat ouþer man or wyfe
Trauayleþ for þe lyuës fode,
And lytyl for þe soulës gode.
Þogh þou trauayle alle þat þou may,
Ne be þou neuer so ryche ne gay,
But þou serue God yn alle þy þoght
Þat þy soule to heuene be broght,
Sykyrlyche alle ys hyt but lore,
Þy grete trauayle syn þou were bore;
Alle for sloghthede be tolde hyt shal,
To werche al day, and lese hyt alle.
Ne be þou neuer so ryche ne gay,
But þou serue God yn alle þy þoght
Þat þy soule to heuene be broght,
Sykyrlyche alle ys hyt but lore,
Þy grete trauayle syn þou were bore;
Alle for sloghthede be tolde hyt shal,
To werche al day, and lese hyt alle.
Ȝyt us þyr an vnkynde sloghþhede,
Þat a man vnneþ, for no gode dede,
wyl wurschep God derwrþly,
But more þarfor aȝens hym ly.
And mayst þou þe soþë se
Of rychë men, how stout þey be;
For many one þat he ȝyfþ to rychesse,
Of God and man þey ȝyue no lesse.
Ȝyf he ȝyue to any hys ryght lemes,
To þanke hym þerof, no man ȝeue nymes.
loke alle þy lymës, fete and hondes,
And, ȝyf þou weyl vndyrstondys
Þat þou ne hast nedë of þo,
Þank hym noþer yn wele no wo;
And ȝyf þou mayst forberë noun,
Þank þan hym of euerychoun;
y rede we þanke hym of euery poynt,
Syn we may nat forbere þe lest Ioynt.
Þat a man vnneþ, for no gode dede,
wyl wurschep God derwrþly,
But more þarfor aȝens hym ly.
And mayst þou þe soþë se
Of rychë men, how stout þey be;
For many one þat he ȝyfþ to rychesse,
Of God and man þey ȝyue no lesse.
Ȝyf he ȝyue to any hys ryght lemes,
To þanke hym þerof, no man ȝeue nymes.
loke alle þy lymës, fete and hondes,
And, ȝyf þou weyl vndyrstondys
Þat þou ne hast nedë of þo,
Þank hym noþer yn wele no wo;
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Þank þan hym of euerychoun;
y rede we þanke hym of euery poynt,
Syn we may nat forbere þe lest Ioynt.
ȝyt þyr ys a sloghþehede yn þys synne;
Vnkynde men are alle þer-ynne;
yn sum man, vnkyndehede ys so rank
Þat he ne may cunne no man þank
For no gode dede þat men hym dous.
A dogge ys kynder, þat goþ lous,
For, ȝyue a dogge þryd part hys fode,
And he shal euer weyte þe gode,
And euermorë be wyþ þe,
For lyfë ne deþ wyl he fle.
Vnkynde men are alle þer-ynne;
yn sum man, vnkyndehede ys so rank
Þat he ne may cunne no man þank
For no gode dede þat men hym dous.
A dogge ys kynder, þat goþ lous,
For, ȝyue a dogge þryd part hys fode,
And he shal euer weyte þe gode,
And euermorë be wyþ þe,
For lyfë ne deþ wyl he fle.
By þys skyl mayst þou se how
An hounde ys kynder þan art þou;
And ȝyt may hyt preuyd be
Þat þou art as vnkynde as he.
Of þe houndë, þys y fynde,
Þat most he hateþ hys owne kynde;
For that yche houndë þat hym gat,
Most of allë hateþ he þat;
And hys modyr he hateþ also;
He byt here, ȝyf he may cum here to.
Ȝyf ȝe vndyrstondë kan,
Þus faryþ hyt of a vnkynd man;
For he loueþ more an ouþer kynde,
And þarto ys wel morë mynde,
Þan he douþ þat ychë flesshe
Of whos kynde he cum forþe ys.
An hounde ys kynder þan art þou;
And ȝyt may hyt preuyd be
Þat þou art as vnkynde as he.
Of þe houndë, þys y fynde,
Þat most he hateþ hys owne kynde;
For that yche houndë þat hym gat,
Most of allë hateþ he þat;
And hys modyr he hateþ also;
He byt here, ȝyf he may cum here to.
Ȝyf ȝe vndyrstondë kan,
Þus faryþ hyt of a vnkynd man;
For he loueþ more an ouþer kynde,
And þarto ys wel morë mynde,
Þan he douþ þat ychë flesshe
Of whos kynde he cum forþe ys.
A-noþer þyng ȝyt ys, ȝyf þou ȝeue kepe,
Þat many loue more nete and shepe
Þan he douþ hys emcrystene,
Or of hys harme wyl oght bemene.
And þys ys a grete vnkyndnes,
And also aȝen manhede hyt ys;
And sloghþëhede wel for to proue,
Vnkyndly, and lowe, to loue.
Þat many loue more nete and shepe
Þan he douþ hys emcrystene,
Or of hys harme wyl oght bemene.
And þys ys a grete vnkyndnes,
And also aȝen manhede hyt ys;
And sloghþëhede wel for to proue,
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Ȝyf þou art yn godë wyl
To seruë God, and leue alle yl,
Repente þe nat, for no feyntyse,
Ne be nat heuy to hys seruyse;
Þou shuldyst raþer to þe deþ turne
Ar þou shust wyþ hys seruyse scorne.
To seruë God, and leue alle yl,
Repente þe nat, for no feyntyse,
Ne be nat heuy to hys seruyse;
Þou shuldyst raþer to þe deþ turne
Ar þou shust wyþ hys seruyse scorne.
Ȝyf þou bygynne weyl, y rede þou ende,
For fyrst and last þou fyndyst hym hende.
And ȝyf þou bygynne any þyng,
Þenk what shal be þe endyng.
For þogh þou seruë God to pay,
Alle þy lyfe, boþe nyȝt and day,
And at þe laste ende of þy lyffe
Þou fallyst aȝens hym yn stryffe,
So þat þou yn þat ychë synne
Makyst þan þy endyng ynne,
God forget alle þy gode dede;
Of hym þerfor gest þou no mede.
Ryght so ys he to þe redy
whan þou wylt leue alle þy foly,
And come to hym with répentaunce,
yn blys he makeþ þy puruyaunce.
At þe ende shal boþe dede and þoght
Shewe hym self how hyt ys wroght.
For fyrst and last þou fyndyst hym hende.
And ȝyf þou bygynne any þyng,
Þenk what shal be þe endyng.
For þogh þou seruë God to pay,
Alle þy lyfe, boþe nyȝt and day,
And at þe laste ende of þy lyffe
Þou fallyst aȝens hym yn stryffe,
So þat þou yn þat ychë synne
Makyst þan þy endyng ynne,
God forget alle þy gode dede;
Of hym þerfor gest þou no mede.
Ryght so ys he to þe redy
whan þou wylt leue alle þy foly,
And come to hym with répentaunce,
yn blys he makeþ þy puruyaunce.
At þe ende shal boþe dede and þoght
Shewe hym self how hyt ys wroght.
Ne be nat þou sorowful, y þe forbede;
hyt semyþ, yn Goddys seruyse þan þou hast drede;
And dredë wyl make a man slogh
To do þe seruyse þat he hogh.
But serue hym gladly with louely chere,
Þan ys þy seruyse to hym dere:
Þus techyþ vs Dauid þe prophete
yn þe sautyr, wurdys swete;
“Ne be nat proude þogh þou weyl dous,
yn þyn herte to make a rous”
Þat þou holy lyfë ledys,
Yn fastyng, or yn almës dedys.
Þe fyrst ys ouer mochë drede,
Þe touþer ys proude hauncenhede.
Holde þe euene hem betwene,
Nat ouer-drede ne ouer-wene.
hyt semyþ, yn Goddys seruyse þan þou hast drede;
And dredë wyl make a man slogh
To do þe seruyse þat he hogh.
But serue hym gladly with louely chere,
Þan ys þy seruyse to hym dere:
Þus techyþ vs Dauid þe prophete
yn þe sautyr, wurdys swete;
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yn þyn herte to make a rous”
Þat þou holy lyfë ledys,
Yn fastyng, or yn almës dedys.
Þe fyrst ys ouer mochë drede,
Þe touþer ys proude hauncenhede.
Holde þe euene hem betwene,
Nat ouer-drede ne ouer-wene.
No make no sorowe, ne myslyke,
Þat wanhope In þyn hertë styke;
For þat ys þe werst poynt of alle;
To hellë þyt hyt doþe þe falle.
Sloghënes, hyt wyl þe grope
To bryngë þe yn-to whanhope;
Sloghnes yn allë godë dedys,
Ys as moche, as sum men redys,
As þogh þou shryue þe of a synne,
And þenke no more to falle þer-ynne.
Ȝyf þou be slogh, and heuy,
And doust no gode dede of mercy,
Þus seyþ God yn hys gospel,
Þat “þou art to me a voyde vessel.”
Ful lyght þan art þou for to turne
Aȝen to synne, and to soiurne;
Þan art þou wersë þan þou was,
Boundë vn-to Satanas;
Þan wylle Satanas begynne to prykke,
And whanhope yn þy hertë stykke.
whanhope, God shelde vs þar-fro,
hyt steryþ a man hym self to slo;
So ded þe treytur Iudas,
And forsoþe, wurþy he was.
why was he moste wurþy?
For he hadde wanhope of Goddys mercy;
For he wendë þat God ne wulde
Haue forȝyue hym, þat he hym solde.
Syþþen loked God vpp-on Iudas,
As who sey, “aske mercy for þy trespas.”
For ȝyf he had asked hyt any syþe,
Ihesu hadde graunted hym asswyþe;
For hys mercy fayled noght
To any man þat hym besoght.
Syn God wulde haue be to hym so fre,
Þan ys he redy to þe and me:
whychë tyme þou wylt hym kalle,
For hys defaute þou shalt nat falle.
Þat wanhope In þyn hertë styke;
For þat ys þe werst poynt of alle;
To hellë þyt hyt doþe þe falle.
Sloghënes, hyt wyl þe grope
To bryngë þe yn-to whanhope;
Sloghnes yn allë godë dedys,
Ys as moche, as sum men redys,
As þogh þou shryue þe of a synne,
And þenke no more to falle þer-ynne.
Ȝyf þou be slogh, and heuy,
And doust no gode dede of mercy,
Þus seyþ God yn hys gospel,
Þat “þou art to me a voyde vessel.”
Ful lyght þan art þou for to turne
Aȝen to synne, and to soiurne;
Þan art þou wersë þan þou was,
Boundë vn-to Satanas;
Þan wylle Satanas begynne to prykke,
And whanhope yn þy hertë stykke.
whanhope, God shelde vs þar-fro,
hyt steryþ a man hym self to slo;
So ded þe treytur Iudas,
And forsoþe, wurþy he was.
why was he moste wurþy?
For he hadde wanhope of Goddys mercy;
For he wendë þat God ne wulde
Haue forȝyue hym, þat he hym solde.
Syþþen loked God vpp-on Iudas,
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For ȝyf he had asked hyt any syþe,
Ihesu hadde graunted hym asswyþe;
For hys mercy fayled noght
To any man þat hym besoght.
Syn God wulde haue be to hym so fre,
Þan ys he redy to þe and me:
whychë tyme þou wylt hym kalle,
For hys defaute þou shalt nat falle.
Beþenke þe weyl of þe þefe
Þat loued nat God, no was hym lefe,—
he þat was hanged on a tre
Bysydë Ihesu for vylte;
he spake o wurde at hys endyng.
“lordë, haue on me menyng!”
And asswyþe he wan þe prys,
And was sent yn-to paradys.
he was þe fyrst[ë] þat hyt wan
Syn Adam lost hyt, oure formest man.
Þat loued nat God, no was hym lefe,—
he þat was hanged on a tre
Bysydë Ihesu for vylte;
he spake o wurde at hys endyng.
“lordë, haue on me menyng!”
And asswyþe he wan þe prys,
And was sent yn-to paradys.
he was þe fyrst[ë] þat hyt wan
Syn Adam lost hyt, oure formest man.
Er was þat þefe yn paradys
Þan alle prophetys þat were of prys.
Þat þefe alle manere wys dyd synne,
And neuer ere leuyd Ihesu ynne;
For a wurde þat he spak so myldëly,
he haþ pes, blys, and mercy.
And, þarfor, dysmay þe noght
For no þyng þat þou hast wroght;
For, haue þou do neuer so mykyl,
Ne be so fals, ne so fykyl,
Ne ley þer-ynnë so long whyle,
And do alle maner synnës vyle,
Ȝyf þou wylt, yn strenkþe and hele,
Þy synne forsake and nat wyþ dele,
with sorow of herte and répentaunce
Þou mayst pay God with lytyl penaunce.
God seyþ þys wurde, to shew vs þe wey,
“y wyl þat nonë synful deye;
To leue hys synne he shal haue space,
And turne aȝen to lyfe and grace;
what so euer he haue done,
y wyl nat hys dampnacyone.”
Þan alle prophetys þat were of prys.
Þat þefe alle manere wys dyd synne,
And neuer ere leuyd Ihesu ynne;
For a wurde þat he spak so myldëly,
he haþ pes, blys, and mercy.
And, þarfor, dysmay þe noght
For no þyng þat þou hast wroght;
For, haue þou do neuer so mykyl,
Ne be so fals, ne so fykyl,
Ne ley þer-ynnë so long whyle,
And do alle maner synnës vyle,
Ȝyf þou wylt, yn strenkþe and hele,
Þy synne forsake and nat wyþ dele,
with sorow of herte and répentaunce
Þou mayst pay God with lytyl penaunce.
God seyþ þys wurde, to shew vs þe wey,
“y wyl þat nonë synful deye;
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And turne aȝen to lyfe and grace;
what so euer he haue done,
y wyl nat hys dampnacyone.”
To ȝyue a sample, a tale here lys,
Þat vs telleþ seynt Dyonys.
Þat vs telleþ seynt Dyonys.
[The Tale of the Priest Carpus's Vision, and how merciful God is.]
Seynt Dyonys of Fraunce seyþ þus:—
hyt was a prest þat hyght Carpus;
Þys prest, þurgh prechyng and sawe,
Broght a sarysyn to crystyn lawe;
A-noþer sarasyn of paynye
Haddë þerwyþ grete enuye,
And turnede þys man to hym aȝeyn,
And oure crystyndom was alle veyn.
Þys prest þarëfor was sory,
And hatyd þys man felunly,
And preydë God he wuld hym sende
Dampnacyun with-outyn ende,
For he þe crystendom forsoke,
And to a fals beleue hym toke;
Fast he preyd yn hys atent,
þat God on hym veniauncë sent.
And God þe prestys prayere herde,
And shewed hym þat he mysferde.
hyt was a prest þat hyght Carpus;
Þys prest, þurgh prechyng and sawe,
Broght a sarysyn to crystyn lawe;
A-noþer sarasyn of paynye
Haddë þerwyþ grete enuye,
And turnede þys man to hym aȝeyn,
And oure crystyndom was alle veyn.
Þys prest þarëfor was sory,
And hatyd þys man felunly,
And preydë God he wuld hym sende
Dampnacyun with-outyn ende,
For he þe crystendom forsoke,
And to a fals beleue hym toke;
Fast he preyd yn hys atent,
þat God on hym veniauncë sent.
And God þe prestys prayere herde,
And shewed hym þat he mysferde.
Þys prest lay yn hys bede a nyȝt,
And, gostly, he sagh a syght;—
he sagh a swyþe merueylus brygge
Ouer þe depë pytte gan lygge,
Þe plank þat on þe bryggë was,
was as sledyr as any glas;
But yn þe put þat was þer-vndyr,
he sagh so moche sorowe and wundyr,
Of fendës felë þat þere wore,
Þogh y tolde moche, ȝyt were þer more.
And, gostly, he sagh a syght;—
he sagh a swyþe merueylus brygge
Ouer þe depë pytte gan lygge,
Þe plank þat on þe bryggë was,
was as sledyr as any glas;
But yn þe put þat was þer-vndyr,
he sagh so moche sorowe and wundyr,
Of fendës felë þat þere wore,
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But, shortly to tellë fro,
Þe man he sagh on þe bryggë go
Yn ful gretë perel and kare,
And euer yn poynt to mysfare;
Yn poynt he was to falle adowne,
Of hys hede, formest þe crowne.
Þe man he sagh on þe bryggë go
Yn ful gretë perel and kare,
And euer yn poynt to mysfare;
Yn poynt he was to falle adowne,
Of hys hede, formest þe crowne.
Þe fendys þat were yn þe pytte
Smote vpwarde, ȝyf þey myȝt hym hytte;
And addres bete hym by þe fete.
Þe prest sagh þat, and ful weyl lete;
He preydë God þat he shuld falle
Down yn-to þe fendys alle,
And þer, with-outyn endë be,
‘For he turned away fro þe.’
Smote vpwarde, ȝyf þey myȝt hym hytte;
And addres bete hym by þe fete.
Þe prest sagh þat, and ful weyl lete;
He preydë God þat he shuld falle
Down yn-to þe fendys alle,
And þer, with-outyn endë be,
‘For he turned away fro þe.’
whan þe prest had seyë þys,
He loked vp to heuene blys;
Hym þoght þe rofe was cloue yn two,
And þe sky opened also,
And of Ihesu he hadde a syght,
How he was on þe rodë dyght;
He sagh hys wundys alle blody,
And spak to hym ful sorowfully,
“Carpus,” he seyd, “se wyþ þyn yne
what y suffred for mannys pyne;
Man to saue, y lete me slo,
why wust þou dampnë hym to wo?
why hast þou hym so moche with ylle?
And for mankynde y lete me spylle
with pyne, and hardë passyoun,
My blode y ȝaf for hys raunsun;
why wust þou he hadde hellë fere
Syn y haue boght hym so dere?
Ȝyt were y redy man to beye,
Er man with-outyn ende shulde deye.
But y haue shewde hym so moche yn dede
with my wundes þat þou seest blede,
þat y þarfor ne wuldë noght
Lese þat y so dere haue boght.
Aȝens me ne fyndeþ he no skylle,
But ȝyf hys ownë wylle hyt wylle.
Þogh he be nowe aȝens me went,
Ȝyt kepe y hys amendëment;
Þarfor, with gode deuocyoun,
Pray for mannys saluacyoun.”
Þan Carpus þanked God almyght
Þat he hadde herde and seye þat syght.
He loked vp to heuene blys;
Hym þoght þe rofe was cloue yn two,
And þe sky opened also,
And of Ihesu he hadde a syght,
How he was on þe rodë dyght;
He sagh hys wundys alle blody,
And spak to hym ful sorowfully,
“Carpus,” he seyd, “se wyþ þyn yne
what y suffred for mannys pyne;
Man to saue, y lete me slo,
why wust þou dampnë hym to wo?
why hast þou hym so moche with ylle?
And for mankynde y lete me spylle
with pyne, and hardë passyoun,
My blode y ȝaf for hys raunsun;
why wust þou he hadde hellë fere
Syn y haue boght hym so dere?
174
Er man with-outyn ende shulde deye.
But y haue shewde hym so moche yn dede
with my wundes þat þou seest blede,
þat y þarfor ne wuldë noght
Lese þat y so dere haue boght.
Aȝens me ne fyndeþ he no skylle,
But ȝyf hys ownë wylle hyt wylle.
Þogh he be nowe aȝens me went,
Ȝyt kepe y hys amendëment;
Þarfor, with gode deuocyoun,
Pray for mannys saluacyoun.”
Þan Carpus þanked God almyght
Þat he hadde herde and seye þat syght.
Þarfore shul we be ful mynde
To serue hym þat ys to vs so kynde,
And shewe hym loue whyle we be here
For þat he loveþ vs alle so dere,
Þat he ne wulde leue eft, for drede,
To deye for vs ȝyf we hadde nede.
Ne be we slogh, but sone vpryse,
Ne dredë vs þan on no wyse,
But, hope alle to gode endyng,
And serue þat mercyáble kyng,
Þat hys mercy be to vs lent
At þe day of Iugëmement;
Amen! so motë hyt betyde
To kepe vs fro sloghnes and accyde!
To serue hym þat ys to vs so kynde,
And shewe hym loue whyle we be here
For þat he loveþ vs alle so dere,
Þat he ne wulde leue eft, for drede,
To deye for vs ȝyf we hadde nede.
Ne be we slogh, but sone vpryse,
Ne dredë vs þan on no wyse,
But, hope alle to gode endyng,
And serue þat mercyáble kyng,
Þat hys mercy be to vs lent
At þe day of Iugëmement;
Amen! so motë hyt betyde
To kepe vs fro sloghnes and accyde!
| Handlyng Synne | |