[Poems from the Vernon MS]

A Iew sum tyme and a Cristene mon
Were felawes in þe wey vppon.
And bi þe wey, as riht was,
Þe Cristene Mon herde Rynge to Mas.
Þe Cristene Mon seide: “a-byd me here,
Whil I go to my preyere!”

175

Þe cristene mon wente in to þe churche.
And þe Iew bi-gon to grucche,
ffor hym þhouȝte his felawe was
To longe biddinge atte Mas.

Þe Iew ros vp and forþ ede
In to þe Churche, to take hede.
Þen sauh he atte weuede
Þe Prest holde ouer his heuede
A ffeir child, I-woundet sore
In ffot, in hond; ȝit sauh he more
Þat þer nas nouþur wyf nor mon
Of alle þat in þe Chirche were on
Þat ne helde vp here hondes and sat on kne;
And from þat child sauh come fle
Anoþur such as he sauh stonde,
A[nd] lihte bi-twene vche monnes honde.

Þe Ieuh a-Bod, til þe Prest
Vsede þe Eukarist,
Þen sauh he him ete þe child
Þat he bi-twenen his hondes held;
And al þat weore in þe churche þermide
Þe Ieuh þhouȝte þat so heo dude.
Þe Ieuh was agrise and wente him hyde
Þer his felawe him bad abyde,
And bi him-self he seide þan:
“A grisly lyf haþ Cristen Man!”

176

Þe Cristene Mon aftur þe mas
Com to þe stude þer þe Iew was.

Þe Ieuh asked: “hou farestou?”

Þe Cristene mon seide: “better þen þou;
ffor siþen ichaue my god seye,
Þe lihtore ich holde al my weye.”

Þe Iew seide: “beo my scolle,
Wel ouhte þi wombe be fulle!
Hedde I so muchel I-ȝete,
Þis þreo dayes nolde I no mete.”

“fforsoþe,” quaþ þe cristene mon,
“To-day sayȝ I siht of non,
Non eorþliche kunnes mete
Þat my Mouþ mihte ete.”

“Let beo! I sauh wiþ myn eȝen two
Where þou and oþur mo,
Vche of ow heold a child blodie,
And siþen ȝe eten hit, I nul not lye;
Wherfore i seye þat oure lawe
Is not good.” bi þat sawe

Þe Cristen mon bi-gon to beo wroþ;
“Þou lyest, Iew, þou art me loþ;
Ȝoure lawe is fals, and so ȝe ben,
Ȝe wol not leeue but þat ȝe sen.
Þerfore al-one I go þe bi,
I kepe no more þi cumpaygni.”

177

Þe Iew seide: “ffelawe, greef þe nouht
Þeih I telle þe what I sayh and þouht,
Ac tel me bi sum oþur preue
Wher-bi I may þe soþe leue!”

“Þis is þe skile,” quaþ þe Cristene man,
“Þat god nout soffreþ þe þan
Þat þou seȝe wiþ þin eȝe
Þe sacremens þat ben so sleȝe,
Þat his fflesch mihte so ben hud
To vs cristene wiþ-inne þe bred.
And þy kun made hym dye,
Þerfore al blodi þou hym seȝe.”

“ffelawe,” quaþ þe Iew þon,
“Help þat I were a Cristene mon;
ffor leuere ichaue cristned ben
Þen euere seo such a siht aȝen.”

Þo was þe Iew cristned, and oþur mo,
ffor þe Miracle þat fel þo.—
Þis Bred þat is godus flesch,
What feiror preue wolde men esch
Þat vche part is godus entere?
Þeih hit weore parted in þreo quartere,
And þeih hit weore an hundred dole,
Vche part is his bodi al hole.

And þat loke bi skile, lo here:
Bi-hold þi-self in a schewere:

178

Þou ne sest but onliche þi faas,
Þe while al hol is þe glaas;
And brek þe glas in two or þre,
And so moni formes þou miht se.—
Beo þe makyng of þe oblee
Wel and skilfoliche me may se
Of wȝuche we make Godus fflesch,
Þis is þe saumple whose wol esch.

Hit is maad beo seuen skiles
Aȝeyn þe seuene dedly synnes:

Aȝeyn Lecherie hit is whit,
Þat was Blak and stynkynge euere ȝit.

Hit is þunne a-ȝeyn Glotenye,
Þat al to muche wole swolewye.

Hit is round and liht to þrowe,
Aȝeyn Sleuþe, þat makeþ men slowe.

Of swete whete mad hit is,
Aȝeyn Wraþþe, þat is bitternis.

Hit is mad wiþ-oute leueyn:
Aȝeyn Envye hit stont aȝeyn,
ffor Envye makeþ Men swelle
Whon he seoþ eny spede welle.

Hit is also wiþ-oute Bryn
Or eny oþur Corn þer-In:

179

Hit is a-ȝeyn Couetyse,
Þat ne reccheþ In what wyse
Eny catel vndurfonge,
Beo hit Riht beo hit wronge.

Hit is þerto clene and luyte,
Aȝeyn Pruide, þat euer ȝute
Wolde beo gret and heiȝ of wille,
As Lucifer, þat furst felle
ffor his Pruide out of heuene.
Do we þis Bred aȝeyn þis seuene!

And hou hit furst com and ede
Þat mon ete Angeles Brede,
Hit is liht soþ to telle,
ffor vche cristene mon wot hit welle.
Þe laste soper wiþ-outen wene
Was I-mad atte Ceene,
And God bad þe Apostles do so
Whon he weore to heuene I-go;
“Do þis in þe muynde of me;
I go and come to ow a-ȝe.”
Of þe Apostles þat God sent
[tok] holichurche þe sacrament.—

180

Þat is to siggen, eukarist
As goode grace com from crist.
Wel may we seyen hit is good grace
Whon hit is wardeyn in godus place!
And grace is betere þen nature,
Whose þerto wol take cure.—
I rede þe mon be in good entent
Whose takeþ þis grace in sacrement:

Seint poul seiþ, and siggen I may,
In þe pistel of to-day:
“Whose vnworþiliche ȝode
To fonge Godus fflesch and blode,
Þere he fongeþ his owne dome”—
Allas, hit falleþ so to lome!
Þerfore poul seiþ bi þat halue:
“he demeþ not God, he demeþ him-selue.”
In þulke whose i-take be,
Schal he neuere beo dampned a-ȝe;
Ȝif we vre owne dom take,
What oþur dom schal God vs make?
Þerfore make ow alle Redi
To take hit not as fool-hardi.—

181

Þeih seint Poul vs þrete þus,
Vr lord hym-self, swete Ihesus,
Þis day in Markes gospelle
To his disciples he gon telle,
And to þe Iewes þat were ryue:
“I am my-self Bred of lyue.
“Mi fflesch soþfast mete is,
And my Blod verrey drinke, iwis.
Whos eteþ mi flesch and drinkeþ my blode,

I wone wiþ hym and he wiþ me.
Mi ffader me sent and so I ȝode,

To lyue for hym and he for me:
So whose me eteþ, for me schal libbe.

Þis is þe Bred þat from heuene come,
Not lyk Manna, þat flour be sibbe,

Þei þat hit ete, weore dede bi dome,
And hose eteþ of þis brede,

He schal liue wiþ-outen ende.”
Ihesu, graunt vs so to spede

Wiþ þulke bred to heuene wende.

Amen.

Off þulke Bred in þe gospelle
Seint Ion we here þus telle:

182

Þat ȝif we ne ete of þulke brede
Ne drynke his blood, vr lyf were dede.—
And þeih we ete hit al þus here,
Hit is in heuene al entere.
So schaltou leeue, Cristene mon,
Þat in no weere þi leue beo on!
ffor þi feiþ tit no mede
Where þing of deþ takest hede;
Hit is inpossyble to serue crist
But þi be-leeue beo good and trist.
And eȝe of feiþ hit is ful kene
Þat seoþ a siht þat is not sene.
Þerfore alle þing þat we [ne] seoþ
Leeue we as holychirche deþ,
ffor þat I holde þe rihte fey
And to heuene þe nexte wey.—

To telle more I mot nede
Hou men ete Angeles Brede.
Of ffoles I herde herby-fore
Þat wyse men toke of hem heore lore,
And so a sek mon mihte teche
A good skile perauenture bifore a leche.
Þis Bred mihte neuermore be spende
Til God hym-self on eorþe hit sende,
To saue mon fro pyne of helle,
So þat he kepe hit welle.

Sum tyme such lawe þer was
Þat vche sonday after mas

183

Eueri trewe wyf and Mon
Schulde be hoseled or þei eode þon. . . .
And þat for þis enchesun,
I wol ow telle for what resun:

On was, for þat folk mis-bere
Hem-selue, whon þei hoseled were.

Þe toþer was, for þe grete trauayle
Þat holy churche hedde be þat entayle,
In nome of þat for Godus drede
Me ȝiueþ nou þe holy Brede.

Þerfore þe pope ordeyned, þries in þe ȝere
Vche mon I-hoseled were;
And bote he were ones atte leste,
Þe pope Comaundet be his heste
Þulke bodi þat so ne dede
Schuld neuer be buried in holy stude.
Þerfore beo redi, I ow Rede,
fforte fonge Angeles Brede.
And beo þis Bred I wol ȝou telle
A luytel ensaumple hou hit bi-felle.

University of Virginia Library

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