The Minor Poems of John Lydgate :: :: University of Virginia Library

Of Agamenoun vnder the large Empyre,
Born in Athenys of Grekes royall lyne,
Blyssed Gyles, thy grace lat Enspyre,
In-to my penne, the tracys tenlumyne;
Cast down thy look, lat the stremys schyne,
Of thy tweyn Eyen, this prosesse to conveie,
Be influence of grace which is devyne,
Me to dyrecte of that I wolde seye,

2

In thy Wurship compendyously to wryte,
By a maner breeff compylacyoun,
To remembre, so as I can Endyte,
Thy gloryous lyff, thy conversacyoun,
Thorugh al the world in euery regyoun
Rad and rehersid, be examples ful notable,
Lyk a merour of Contemplacyoun,
To ffolk that caste hem in vertu to be stable,

162

3

A lytel glene, gadryd in the ffeld,
Betwen large shokkys of parfight holynesse,
Mong grete schevys that I ther be-held,
To gadre up heerys dyd my besynesse,
Greyn tryed out, selestyall of swetnesse,
To ffostre and ffeede ffolk Contemplatyff,
Full in purpos breeffly to Expresse
Centenciously thy myracles and thy lyff,

4

Wher-vp-on my purpos to ffulfylle,
By Goddis grace, fortune, or aventure,
Ther was to me brouht a lytell bylle
Of greet devossionn by a cryature,
Requyryng me to do my besy Cure,
Affter the tenour only ffor Gyles sake,
Out of Latyn translate that scripture.
Folwyng the copie, this labour vndertake;

5

To whos requeste lowly I dyd Obeye,
Breeffly this story to put in remembraunce,
Long prossesse lefft, took the nexte weye,
For short metris do gladly gret plesaunce,
By cler report rehersed the substaunce,
Prolyxite ffor to sette asyde,
Bood no lenger but gan my penne avaunce,
Trustyng Seynt Gyle for to be my guyde.

6

Compendyously was remembrid thus,
So far in ordre I schall rehersyn here,
Thy ffader was named Theodorus,
Callyd Pellagia was thy moder dere,
Of roial blood bothe borne yffere;
Thy youthe ffostryd, bokys determyne,
With dyllygence vertu for to lere,
And profyte in vertuous dyscyplyne.

163

7

Thus dysposed in vertu to profyte,
Lyk thy mastres wich tauht þe spelle and reede,
Tendre of age, gretly lyst delyte,
As seith thy lyff, in almesse-deede,
Of compassioun castyst of thy weede,
Gaff it freely to oon that quook for cold,
Wich was maad hool reffresshed in his neede,
The ffirste myracle in thy legende told.

8

Fader, moder, anoon as they were ded,
Thow dyst reioysshe ther tresour & richesse,
Thy patromonye for more goostly sped,
Thow gaff to pore, of mercyful almesse,
Another poysounned, þe venym dist represse,
To oon also with a ffend Travaylled,
Thy preyer and Expert hoolynesse
To his recure hath sovereynly avaylled.

9

This myracles spred in thy Contre,
For teschewe veynglorie and fals pryde,
Of perfectyon ffleddyst ouer see,
Preysyng of people for to sette a-syde,
On-to shipmen sauacyonn and gyde,
Madyst þe tempest graciously asswage,
And fro perysshyng dist so for hem prouyde
From al perell to fortune ther passage.

10

Seke and pore thou lyst also vysite,
And alle that were in Trybulacioun,
Of the wedewe callyd Theocryte,
To hir douhter thou were sauacioun,
Of old langour hir Consolacyoun,
To al the contre pleynyng for skarsete,
By thy prayer and medyacyoun,
They did habounde with gracious plente.

164

11

Whan the hermyte Veredemyus
Was ffer absent, thy story doth expresse,
Thoruh thy merit notable & vertuous
Thou madist a penaunt hool from al siknesse,
Toward dissert the Iourne thou dist dresse
With cold water, and herbis rauhe and grene,
Complet iij yeer thy story berith witnesse,
Laddist thy lyff, of colour pale and lene,

12

God of his grace hadde vpon the mynde,
Lyst ordeyne ffor a Restoratyff
To thy repast, whight as snow, an hynde,
With plentyvous mylk to fostre therby thy lyff,
Myd sharpe breris thou were Contemplatyf,
Thy body peyned with rigerous contynence,
Ageyn Sathan of costom was thy stryff
Dauntyng thy flessh by vertuous abstynence.

13

Thy ffoode was nouther on flessh nor ffyssh,
Sool by thy-silff in a desert place,
Other deyntes kam noon in thy dyssh,
But frute and rootis wich thou dist vp race,
Bestis reioysshyng to loke vp-on thy fface,
Mong sharpe busshes keptist thy hermytage,
As I told erst, among by Goddis grace
Sook of an hynde wich that was savage.

14

Thus of costom the hynde kept þi tyme
At serteyn houris duryng ful thre yeer,
Wente in pasture gresyng fro the pryme,
Toward mydday she kam with ful glad cheer,
Of God provided to be thy vytayller,
With a repast of hir mylk most soote,
She was thy cook, she was thy boteleer,
Ageyn the constreynt of hunger to do boote.

165

15

This myracle, and this vnkouth thyng,
Was at Tuskan, to Gasceygne adiacent,
Vpon Burgoyne regnyng there a kyng,
As I reede hys name was Fluent,
Wich in huntyng sette at his Entent,
Curteys, gentyl, in al his gouernaunce;
To conclude, shortly in sentement,
He was soget to the kyng of ffraunce,

16

At mount Pilleris holding his soiour,
As thy story, Guyles, maketh mynde
Vpon a day the kyng with gret labour,
Alle his meyne, noon was lefft be-hynde,
Houndis on-coupelyd to chasyn at thyn hynde,
Roial lymeris with alauntys huge,
Thy beste swyfft lefft hem echon be-hynde,
Ran to thy ffeet for socour and reffuge.

17

The kyng, the bysshop, thy story who lyst rede,
Of that kyngdam cam to thy presence
Hurt with an arwe, sauh thy wounde bleede,
Profred amendis and gold for ther offence;
The kyng in wyl thy wrong to recompence,
By the assigned of hooll affeccyoun,
To bylde of monkis in Goddis reuerence,
A monasterie with-Inne his regioun.

18

At thy requeste the bisshop and the kyng,
Condescendid, with a Condycyoun,
That thow woldist accomplissh ther askyng
To ben abbot of that relygyoun,
Sette a ground of hih perfeccyoun,
By good example take of thy persone,
And of desert leue thy mansyoun,
For comoun profyght and leue nat so allone.

166

19

At ther prayer with al humylyte,
In thyn avis thou were Condescendyd,
That the religioun myhte Encresed be,
By thy presence and vertuously amendid,
Circumstaunces breeffly comprehendyd,
Thorugh o persone offtyn hath be prevyd,
All a regioun myhte been amendyd
By o good man socoured and releued.

20

In this mater it nedith not to tarye,
To daunte thy flessh, þe trouthe was wel sene,
Whan thou lefftyst to be solytarye,
Fedyng thy-silff with rotys rauh & grene,
Drank welle water, of colour megre and lene,
Thy wounde open, thy blood dystellyng doun,
As deuhy dropis, ageyn the sonne schene,
Ay to remembre on Crystys passyoun,

21

Prayeng þe lord duryng al thy lyve,
Be experience as it was affter ffounde,
On remembraunce of Cristis woundis ffyve,
That euer bledyng sholde be thy wounde,
That no leche with salue sholde sownde
Thy grevous hurt, to staunche it, or to bynde,
Cristis carectis large, wyde, and rownde,
Eternally enprente hem in thy mynde.

22

The saide abbey accomplisshed & I-walled,
The kyng present in his royal astaat,
With the bisshop whan thou were stalled,
Meek of thy port, nat pompous nor elat,
Loved and drad with grace ffortunat,
Laumpe and lanterne of perfeccyoun,
Tauhtest þi soggettis, erly and eek late,
To profyte in ther Relygyoun,

167

23

Fastyng, wakyng, and liggyng harde a-nyht,
To thy discyples patroun and examplarie,
Fyrst at matynes settyst vp the lyght,
In ech party of the seyntewarye,
Knelyng in churche, or in thy lybrarye,
Euer in study or Contemplacyoun,
Pastor callid, nat a mercenarye,
With a brydell of Castygacyoun.

24

Madist thy flessh meekly to obeye
To the spirit, voyde of rebellyoun,
Of alle þi werkis discressioun bar the keie,
With hih prudence and no presumpcioun,
Tweyne of consayl, equyte and resoun,
Lyk a ffader peised rigour and clemence,
Twen thextremytees hate or affeccyoun,
Reulyng thy convent vnder obedience,

25

Wyt and discrecioun kept egal the ballaunce
A-tween cherisshyng and just correccyouns,
Thou bar the torche of prudent gouernaunce,
Fro parcial drauht of fals deuysiouns,
Resoun repressed fforeyn occasiouns,
With soffte speche and with woordes ffayre
Were set a-syde alle rebelliouns,
To thy precept was no soget contrarye.

26

Swyfft of wynge flight of thy good fame,
By cleer report kam to the audyence
Of kyng Charlys, and of þi parfit name,
Wherof supprised with spiritual fervence,
By auctorite of royall excellence,
Sente to the deuoutly by massage,
Beyng thy-silff at Aralatence,
Toward hym holdyng thy viage,

168

27

Mettyst a man, wich in his entrayll
Was oppressed by the ffendys myght,
A wikkyd goost so dyd him assayll,
Al men ferful to kome[n]in his sight,
But of compassion and grace of Cristis myht,
By thy prayer he was maad hool, by grace,
Affter this myracle Charlis the noble knyht
On bothe his armes the meekly did embrace,

28

The kyng lowly with deuout obeysaunce
Prayde thou woldyst in thyn Orysouns
Haue hym dayly in thy remembraunce,
Sith it stood so, ffor short conclusiouns,
He hadde offendyd of froward mocyouns,
In a synne terryble to descryve,
Weuer of purpos in his oppynyouns
Therof to been confessed in his lyve.

29

Nat longe affter beyng at thy masse
By gret avys praydest ffor the kyng,
In thy memento lyst nat lyghtly passe
Tyl Cryst Iesu grauntyd thyn askyng,
In a bylle the trespas rehersyng
With goldene lettrys cast on the auhter,
Brouht by an angel from hevene discendyng
Of al the cas declared the maner,

30

To more encres of this vnkouth myracle
As the bylle in ordre dyd Expresse,
To thy requeste was maad noon obstacle,
Cryst hath for-ȝoue of his gret goodnesse,
The kyngys gylt thoruh thy parfitnesse,
Alle circumstaunces pleynly out declaryd,
Atween you two, as thou lyst hym confesse,
Treuly in ordre there was no poynt I-sparyd,

169

31

This vnkouth bylle, by an angell brought,
Cast on the auhter, briht as þe sonne schoon,
What was wretyn no man knew riht nouht,
Woord nor sillable but thy-silffe alloon,
They gaff a lyght lyk a charboncle stoon
Thorugh the chapel the skrowe schoon so shene,
Among hem alle sothly was nat Oon
Except thy-sylff knew what they did mene.

32

Graunted to the ffor a prerogatyff,
In this bylle with thys addycyoun,
What synful man lyst amende hys lyff,
Full repentaunt with contrycyoun,
And the sacrement of confessyoun,
The lord aboue schal hem to mercy take,
Throuh thy prayer and hooly orisoun
So that they lyst ther synne to for-sake.

33

Charlys restoryd on-to goostly helthe,
By thy notable Informacyoun,
To gret encres of hys worldly welthe,
And gret prosperyte of all his regioun;
At thy departyng from his roial doungoun,
To dysceuere ye tweyne were so loth
Of ffervent love and trewe affeccyoun
Thy lyff remembreth that ye wepte bothe.

34

Repeyryng hom by thy decert ay moryd,
Be encres in vertu Crist Iesu was thy sped,
A dukys sone was to lyff Restoryd,
By thy prayer wich lay affore the ded,
Among þi bretheren with obeisaunce and dred,
Komyng hom brouht in with glad vysage,
Abood nat longe, clad in a pilgrym weede,
Toward Rome madyst thy vyage.

170

35

Cause of thy goyng in þi lyff expressed,
Was of greet zeel and gret affeccyoun,
Ful weel expert for grace hath so dressed
Thy pylgrymage toward Rome toun,
And to expleyte all thyn entencyoun,
Noon obstacle, as it is comprehendyd,
To thy requeste and Iust petycyoun
Gracyously the Pope ys condescendyd.

36

Gret heed he took to thyn holynesse,
And to thy famous greet humylyte,
Sette thy chirche for euer in sekernesse,
And thy relygioun in Tranquyllyte,
By bulle asseled with many lyberte,
Peynes annexed by ful hard sentence,
Ageyn alle tho that of Inyquyte
To thy convent dyde vyolence.

37

And by a-nother favourable sygne,
Of God enspired the Pope dyd his peyne,
Lyk a ffadder gracyous and benygne,
Put thy ffredamys to stondyn in serteyn,
On-to thyn hous he gaff dorys tweyne,
By crafft out korve wrouht with fressh entayl,
Maugre alle tho that lyst at it dysdeyne
Thyn hous tenpugne they shal nat prevayll.

38

This seide dooris korve out of Cypresse,
Brought to Tybre they fond noon obstacle,
Next to that stronde, thy story seith expresse,
They fro Tybre conveyed by myracle
To thy closet and lytell tabernacle,
Brought to londe with gret solempnyte,
Affore thy stepill with many fressh penacle,
In wich dorys who lyst thy story see,

171

39

Was hool complet lyf of thapostelys xij,
In fressh picture with lyffly quyk Images,
Though Pigmaleon had be there hym-selve
He koude haue maad no goodlyere vysages.
Reysed bentayll vp-on smale stages
Garnysshed with gold, freet with stonys ryche,
Blissed Gyles by thy pylgrymages,
Thou gat these loukis to wich þer be non lyche.

40

Kept in thy chirche ffor a memoryall,
Tokene of ful graunt and confirmacioun,
That thy menstre in Especyall
Fraunchised was, for pleyn conclusioun,
From all maner Iuredyccyoun,
Of foreyn power be thyn holynesse,
Prelat nor prynce of no presumpcioun
Thy lybertees nor fraunchise to oppresse,

41

By a spirit only of prophesye,
Knew afforn whan thou sholdyst passe,
Thy bretheryn present with many wepyng eie,
On a Sunday knelyng in the place,
Spreynt with teris, lokying on thy fface,
Whan that thou gaf, as I can remembre
Thy oost to God conveyed vp by grace,
With holy angellis mon[e]the of Septembre.

Explicit.

A Praier to Seynt Gyle.

O gracious Gyle, of pore folk chef patroun,
Medycyne to seke in ther dystresse,

172

To alle needy sheeld and proteccyoun,
Reffute to wrecchis, ther damages to redresse,
Folk that were ded restoryng to quyknesse,
Sith thou of God were chose to be so good,
Pray for our synnys, pray for our wikkidnesse,
To Crist Iesu that boughte us with his blood,

43

Caste vp-on us thy goodly pitous yee,
To our requestis thyn eris doun enclyne,
For the love of Iesu and Marye,
Born in Bedlem, she a pure virgyne,
And as thou were tryacle and medycyne
To kyng Charlis, whan he in myschef stood,
Teche us the weye by þi gostly doctryne,
To love that lord that bought us with his blood.

44

Geyn our enemyes wich ben in noumbre thre,
The flessh þe world þe dredful fel serpent,
Of thy grace and mercyfull pyte,
To þi servauntis that serve the of entent
Ageyn al trouble be with hem present,
Maugre þe fend and his furious mood,
Gracious Gyle, be neuer from us absent
For love of Iesu þat bouhte us with his blood,

45

We putte our trust and our affeccyoun
In þi most feithful prudent gouernaunce,
Be thow our sheld, [our] pavys, and sheltroun,
That were so famous by myracles in substaunce,
Wrought by thy merit in Germanye & Fraunce,
Maugre leviathan, mankyndes fo moost wood,
Ageyn whos werre haue us in remembraunce
To-fore that lord wich bouht us with his blood.

173

Lenvoye.

O myn [avowe], wich callid art Seynt Gyle,
Tween hope & dred most mekely I requere,
Thynk on þi man þat laboureth to compile
This lytel dete, of hooll herte and entyeer,
Haue mynde on alle that trust in þi praier,
For love of hym that starff vpon þe rood,
Yif thou be mene, we stonde no thyng in were,
To haue his mercy þat bouhte us with his blood.

Explicit.