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The Life of Saint Werburge of Chester

By Henry Bradshaw. Englisht. A.D. 1513, printed by Pynson A.D. 1521, and now re-edited by Carl Horstmann

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How a tyraunt without pyte punyshynge an Innocent was punyshed / & after made hole. Ca. xxv.
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How a tyraunt without pyte punyshynge an Innocent was punyshed / & after made hole. Ca. xxv.

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Forther to declare / the pacyence and humylyte
And the synguler grace / grounded in this abbas,
As in the true legende / playnly ye may se
We shall parte rehers / to augment your solas.
Werburge had a seruaunte / whiche named was
Alnotus, a man / of meke conuersacyon,
Knowen by his merytes / after due probacyon.

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Also a baylyfe she had / a cruell tyraunt;
Whiche pyteously punysshed / without reason
And wounded greuously / Alnot, her seruaunt,
Without any greuaunce / at the place of Wedon.
Werburge for pyte / and great compassyon
Afore this caytyfe / kneled on her knee,
Prayenge hym to cease / for loue of the trynyte;

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Sayenge: ‘why does thou punysshe / this innocent,
Causeles, without mercy / whiche I byleue playne
Is more acceptable / to our lorde omnypotent
Than many other be / for his mekenesse, certayne?’
The baylyfe at her prayer / wolde not refrayne,
But punysshed hym styll / in his fury and pryde;
Tyll the vengeaunce of god / fell on hym that tyde.

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Incontynente his heed / his necke / and his face
Were tourned backwarde / lyke a persone monstruous,
Contrary to nature / for his great trespace,
Crucyate with sorowe / and peynes hyduous,
Contynually encreasynge / to beholde pyteous.
At the last remembred / of the best remedy:
Fell prostrate to the fete / of Werburge, his lady,

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And cryed vpon her / with wofull chere,
Wepynge / lamentynge / his great inyquyte:
‘My louely lady / and maystres moost dere,
Helpe me, swete abbesse / in this necessyte!
I haue offended god / now pray for me,
And I wyll neuer / endurynge all my lyfe
Dysplease no more / man / mayde / ne wyfe.’

393

Whan Werburge consydered / his great contrycyon,
His woofull herte / and lamentable crye,
Vpon hym she had / tender compassyon;
Beholdynge his greuaunce / and tender agony,
‘Good brother,’ she sayd / ‘who-so wyll haue mercy
Must be mercyable / as in prouerbe wryten is;
Who is without mercy / of mercy shall mys.

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‘Call vnto mynde / thy owne wycked dede
In punyshynge this poore man / without offence;
To se his punyshment / my herte sore dyd blede,

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I kneled afore thy fete / desyrynge indulgence;
Thou toke no regarde / to my prayer ne presence,
Wherfore the Iustyce / of god almyghty
Vpon the is fallen / for thy synne soday[n]ly.’

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Whan she had ended / her ghostly exortacyon,
Perceyuynge hym penytent / with great humylyte,
Gladde to amende / vyce and transgressyon,
Anone vnto prayer / she went with charyte,
Opteyned forgyuenesse / of the blessed trynyte:
His fysnamy / restaured to his kynde agayne,
Bothe bodyly and ghostly / cured was, certayne.

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This forsayd Alnotus / by synguler grace
Refused this worlde / pleasures and vanyte,
Went vnto wyldernesse / and anchoryte was.
Whome theues martyred / to heuen blysse went he,
At Stow besyde Bukbrydge / buryed was, trule;
For whome our lorde / of his infynyte goodnes
Shewed many myracles / affyrmynge his holynes.