 | Theophilus |  |
IV.
The humble oration of the penitent synner Theophilus to the glorious virgin Marye, to be medyatrice to her moste mercyfull sonne for him in this his moste miserable falle and greate necessite, to be raysed by her, and reconcyled vnto grace againe.
97
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‘O glorious Ladye, preelecte of the LordeBefore heaven and earthes constytution!
By seeade of the bodde, the worlde to be restorde,
Thowe mayde continuinge in each condytion.
Vouchsafe tattende my hartes contrytion,
Bewrapped with care, never wretche the lyke,
Drowned, but thowe helpe, in helles bottomlesse dyke.
90
My Lorde, thy sun, I dare not calle vppon,Ne invocate the name of Christe Jesu;
For I haue learned, in scripture, longe agone,
But by the holye ghoste that name to renue.
I who then the devyll in mee doe indue,
How can I worthelye calle on thy name,
But to mye reproche, moste greevaunce and shame?
91
Yeat is hee my Lorde,—he cannot denye,Though I haue of caste his recognysaunce.
Over heaven and hell he hath the seignorye,
To dooe and vndooe at his ordynaunce;
Of whom I am rue in displeasaunce,
So greevouslye farre that I am at staye,
His mercye to claime by meanys anye waye.
92
How greevouslye eaver I haue offended,Yeat am I his, he can mee not deneye.
Vppon repentance, my self amended,
Hee maye, yf he please, take mee to mercye,
Sith I his image, thowghe myserablye
I haue it defaced, as open doth preve:
I gaue that awaye was not myne to geeve.
93
But thus consyder with my self doe I:My syn so paste I can it not revoke.
And, certayne, no ende is of his mercye,
But that he bestoweth on Christian folke,
Of which none am I, how eaver I cloake.
Playne doth appeare in his knowledge dyvine
How I weetinglye his faith dyd resigne.
94
O cursed the deye, the tyme and season,That eaver I fell so owght of my mynde!
If I hadd be ledde by rules of reason,
I hadde not swarved so farre owte of kynde.
But reamedye none I wote nowe to fynde.
98
The tormentis of hell looke mee to embrace.
95
My case thowe knoweste by the glasse eterne,In sight of thye sonne, whom I haue transgreste,
Worthye to be grownde in thinfernall querne,
That scyndrethe in peeces by paynes manyfeste.
I synner, with synne moste greevouslye oppreste,
Beseache thy mercye, thoughe mearitinge none,
For that with syn so passinge overgone.
96
Which syn, I acknowledge and doe confesse,To hyde yt is noe possybilyte,
And of my self not hable to redresse,
But to attribute to my fragelyte,
Whoe graunteth to falle with all facelyte.
But to aryse no weye I vnderstonde,
But thowe, o Ladye, putte thy hande.
97
Yf anye in heauen maye helpe in this neade,Vnto thy sunnys fauour to reconcyle,
Certayne I am thus perswaded in deade,—
How eaver the fynde lyste anye beguyle—
Thowe cheeflye arte, maye helpe, at some while.
For thowe hys mother, though he Lorde and Kinge,
Yeat he, thy sonne, will denye thee nothinge.
98
And I beleeve, his will and pleasure isThine honor to haue yt florishe ouerall,
Sith thine in eaverye behalf is hys,
Of whom thy graces spronge originall,
All to his glorye in especiall,
And will thow shouldest vnto all humain kinde,
By powre of him helpe vs againe the ffynde.
99
That wheare hee dyd owre mother Eaue deceaue,And by her brought vs in bande and thrall,
Thow sholdeste him of his power bereaue,
When for thy ayde dyd eaver anye call:
That as by woman owre myserable falle,
So by woman oure raysinge vnto lyfe.
Such is, o Ladye, thye prerogatife.
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Sith then of heavin most soveraigne Queene,There florishinge more then anye queene heere!
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Yeat, glorious Ladye, my prayer thowe heare!
Vnto thye sunnys throne thow sittinge so neare,
Present thye self by mediation,
To graunte of my synne some relaxation.
101
And what of penaunce I am hable to doe,I shall endeavowre vnto my lyues ende.
Yff thow not helpe mee, I wote not ells whoe
Maye steade in this neade, my sowle to defende.
My speciall truste on thee I dooe impende.
Ffor thy sonnys mercye and passion smarte
Shewe some favor to easement of my harte’.
102
By three deyes space, and three nyghtes ensuinge,This wretched synner on grounde grovelinge laye,
For anye sustenaunce neaver removynge,
But styll to the blessed Ladye dyd praye,
Though not orderlye as wee do heere saye,
But with much more mateirs efficacye,
For that so longe tyme hee dyd occupye.
| Theophilus | |