University of Virginia Library

Somtyme in Rome a pope there was
That god loued full specyally
To rule his churche he hym chas
His name was caled Gregory
A mother he had in that cyte
That was full blessyd in her dede
On euery pore she had pyte
And helped all creatures at theyr nede
The deuyll at her had great dyspyte
And thought it shulde no lenger so be
with concupyscence and false delyght
He thought to brynge her fro that degre
She fell in syne within a whyle
And lyued in fowle voutri
with lust and lykynge her body to fyle
The deuyll her blynded with obstynacy
That she durste her therof neuer shryue
Lest any man shulde her bewrey
This droue forthe all her lyue
whyle sekenes her toke that she shulde dye
Than had she neyther tyme ne space
Dethe her toke so sodenly
Alas this was an heuy case
The deuyll to haue suche maystery
whan she was dede and layde on bere
Many was sory no wonder was
what than befell than shall ye here
Howe god dysposed for her his grace
Thoroughe prayer of saynt Gregory
That was so good in his leuynge
Our lorde shope her a remedy
A trentall for her that he shulde synge
Howe it was ordayned and founde
Take wysely hede and ye shall here
Saynt gregory made it with his hande
And sayd it hym selfe in this maner

Upon a nyght I me bethought
whan all creatures were at reste
Of marualous thīges that god had wrought
In euery kynde bothe man and best
Abought mydnyght a lytell before
I harde a voyce full pyteously
Alas it sayd that I was bore
My dome is gyuen full ryghtfully
For whyle I leuyd I had my wyll
My sone durst I neuer tell
Ryghtwysenes me demeth by skyll
That I were worthy be damned in hell
Than with that voyce vp I brayde
Myne harte was sore afryght
Out of a wyndowe I me layd
And there I sawe a wonder syght
A blacke cloude and a stynkynge
Full of deuyls on euery syde
A sowle there was in fyre brennynge
I coniured it and bade it abyde
By the vertu of god in trynyte
That made heuen erthe and hell
All ye deuyls obeye to me
And answere to me that I you tell
what sowle is that ye haue there
what is the cause wherfore and why
with suche paynes that ye it dere
That god hathe bought so precyously
The deuyll answered anone there tyll
And sayd the mother that the bore
She hathe this done by ryght and skyll
For false lyuynge that she had before
She semed good and false within
And lyued in aduoutry to her lyues ende,
To no prest wolde she tell her synne
Therfore with vs shall she wende
My body agrysed my harte also
And sayd false fende that may not be
All Rome wyll wytnes that it is false
The dedes of marcy fulfylled she
Pore ryche and all maner men
She clad and fed her god to please
And kepte her to his commaundementes ten
why shulde she than haue this dysease
whan body and sowle departeth in twayne
Dethe came so shortely she had no space
Ones to shryue her of her synne
The whiche the deuyll her dyd enbrace
For drede of shame she durst not tell
Neyther to no prest open her harte
And who so dieth ī syne this wotest thou well
The paynes of hell they maye not sterte
Alas sayd Gregory that euer mannes kynde
Is so thrall for thynges of nought
And that synne shulde hym blynde
To lese the parte that god hathe bought
with bolde spirite I spake to here
And sayd thou sowle here charge I the
In the vertue of god that bought man dere
To morow at mydday thou speke with me
In trust that god some grace wyll sende
By prayer fastynge or some almes dede
For this Iugement the to defende
That for the his blode dyd blede
And tell me how it stondeth with the
If any hope be of saluacyon
And put the to rest from this degre
And saue the from thy dampnacyon
with that worde is vanesshed me fro
And sorowe smote my harte full nye
I was full of care sorowe and wo
I fell downe and in poynt to dye
with greuous gronynge it toke the waye
There god had ordayned it to be
All nyght I kneled for it to praye
That god wolde haue of it pyte
And to saynt Peter my predycessoure
That god gaue power to lose and bynde
Thou graunt me to be her socoure
Some prayer for her that I myght fynde
Thus prayed I for her all that nyght
Tyll dede slepe had me take
Anone sodenly I was a fryght
A voyse apered and bad be awake
Full bryght it was afore my face
In lykenes of an aungell clere
I wende god had ben in place
It was the deuyll that dyd apere
And sayd thou laborest all in vayne
Go take thy rest and let this be
Thou maste neuer by reason obtayne
To saue the sowle in no degre
God wyll not that thou for it praye
Neyther for no sowle that damned is
For though thou laboure tyll domes day
yet shall it neuer come to blysse
Therfore praye not in this cas
For god is dysplese with the
She hath done so great trespas
That it may neuer forgeuen be
whan I harde this myne harte was sore
But euer me thought he sayd not well
For goddes marcy is moche more
Than harte may thynke or tonge can tell
To hym I answered full boldely thore
And sayd forsothe it is vntrewe
For god hym selfe for vs wolde dye
So sore mannes soule he dyd it rue
And prayed his father whan he sholde stye
Howe canste thou saye let me se
why prayer shulde not a soule saue
God wolde no synner dampned shulde be
That wolde on his marcy craue
That is trewe he sayd but se what wyse
By vertue of confessyon he may be saue
But who synneth and wyll not ryse
How may he than his marcy craue
By no scrypture I can se
That marcy to hym shulde not be due
For who so synneth dedely dampned is he
Thou knowest well that this is trewe
yet I sayd though it be so
That god hathe sente the one his message
Answere to this that I saye the to
Or elles me thynke thou doest rage
Clarkes sayd and scrypture also
Ouer al the workes that euer god wrought
Marcy is chefe and passeth all tho
Answere to this yf thou can ought
For where lucyfer thrughe his pryde
Lost heuens blysse and wente to hell
There marcy hath set mankynde his tyde
Aboue all aungelles this wotest thou well
To this thou canst not ones say nay
Neyther al ye false aūgelles that there were
with that worde he wanysshed a waye
That house rofe with hym he bare
Thunder lyghtenīge there was great plēte
Cryenge of deuylles about that place
I praye god with harte so fre
To saue me for his hyghe grace
And sende me some consolacyon
And helpe this sowle that hathe nede
To saue it euer frome damnacyon
For the woundes that he dyd blede
On the next morowe sone vpon daye
To saynt Peters I went a pace
My seruyce there for to saye
And met with the sowle as I had grace
I was not so sone fro my place past
My waye thether for to take
Sodenly the wether was ouer cast
The clowdes wexed wonder blacke
And as I stodyed what it shulde be
A voyce I harde full pyteously
Alas it sayd full wo is me
I knowe no meane of remedy
This cloude was blacke on euery brynke
Full of fyre and brymstone also
There myght no creature abyde the stynke
For fere therof my mynde was go
I toke myne harte all in that tyde
whan I sawe it drewe me nye
I crossed my body on euery syde
And spake to it full boldely
In the vertue of god I charge the here
That toke flesshe of a vyrgyn fre
Stande there styll and come no nere
But that I aske thou tell it me
why arte thou put to thys desease
That dyd so moche almes dede
And euery creatour was redy to please
with meat and drynke them for to fede
That all rome of the spake
Thy lyuynge was holden so good aye
That neuer was founde in the lake
Neyther by nyght nor by daye
Therwith she groned full heuely
And sayd alas that I was borne
I knowe no maner of remedy
But body and soule ben lyke to be lorne
For whyles I lyued and euer had
The worldes luste all my wyll
In false auoutry my lyfe I lad
Thre yonge Innocentes I dyd kyll
without baptyme they were slayne
And lost the blysse of heuen also
I were worthy endles payne
And for that to abyde in wo
For fere I durste it neuer saye
Nether to no preste confessed be
I was holde so perfyte aye
That euery creature sayd good by me
Alas she sayd that I was made
That I had neuer grace to saye
But euer in synne my lyfe thus lade
Unto the houre that I shulde dye
And dethe came so sodenly
I had no tyme amendes to make
I am well worthy for that foly
To endles payne my waye to take
Than was my harte heuy as lede
To se my mother in that degre
But sythe she knewe no better rede
On her I had great ruthe to se
Than spoke I to her with heue chere
In chrystes name here charge I the
within ten dayes ryght here thou apere
In this same place and mete with me
And I my selfe my deuoure shall do
If holy churche may put helpe in the
with the powre that god gaue therto
To Peter that pope was before me
The dyuel on it made spytefull noyse
whan they shulde take them to theyr waye
And sayd all with one voyce
This false Gregorye wyll vs betraye
The sely sowle with them they lad
It groned full greuously and cryed sore
with harde paynes it was bestad
My harte was heuy and wo therfore
My waye I toke to the churche a pace
A masse to synge for her sake
To saynt Sebastyan that holy place
My aulter commaunded I redy to make
To masse I wente with mylde chere
And put my trust in god alone
And as he bought that soule so dere
That daye that he wolde here my mone
whan I sacred our lordes body
Chryste Iesu in fourme of brede
My blode waxed colde I wyst not why
I sawe a syght I was adrede
A naked body in a tome of stone
Full of woundes bledynge sore
His face all pale his colour was gone
His skyn his flesshe was all to tore
A spere was put throughe his body
In euery hande a nayle was thrusted
There was no place I coude espye
But euery Ioynte was distrusshed
A wrethe of thorne vpon his hede
The pryckes throughe his brayne ran
He loked as he had bene dede
His eyen his lyppes were all wan
His handes were crossed hym before
To se that syght myne harte was wo
Out of his harte he syghed sore
And sayd synfull man thou arte my fo
On the aulter he hym rest
My body for pyty on hym dyd quake
He sayd to me lo I chryst
To dye agayne for mannes sake
Beholde my body howe it is rente
For synfull sowles this suffred I
Mystruste me not I amthy frende
My flesshe my blode thou arte trewely
All this I suffered the to saue
Unkynde creature beholde and se
what myght I do more thy loue to haue
Than offer my selfe to dye for the
For rather than a sowle were shente
Newe on a crosse I wolde it bye
Thus to be beten torne and rent
So moche is my loue and my mercy
with that worde he vanysshed me fro
His wordes made my harde full lyght
On my knees I fell downe tho
And thanked good of that syght
Forthe I sange my masse to the ende
And prayed god full hartely
This sely sowle he shulde defende
And shew on it his hyghe mercy.

But whan it drewe to the nyhgt
That all creatures toke theyr rest
To saynt peters churche I me dyght
Before the hyghe aulter I me drest
God I besought with harte fre
Some comforte that he myght to me sende
And swete saynt Peter myne helpe to be
That myght fro myscheue me defende
Thus it drewe ferther in the nyght
My nature fayne wolde haue rest
Anone before me apered a syght
Upon the hye aulter there it fest
There came a pope in his araye
Cardynalles/bysshoppes/and prestes also
I dredde it sore whan I it saye
And gaue them rome by me to go
This pope called me anone hym tyll
And sayd come hether gregory vnto me
Thou shalte knowe our lordes wyll
Be not dysmayde what thou se
I am Peter thy predecessoure
And here be my bretherne the apostelles all
we be come the for to socoure
with pore of god that neuer shall fall
Take this scrypture of my hande
Our lorde hym selfe sent it to the
All sowles to helpe out of bande
And it be done as it shulde be
And powre also to lose and bynde
In heuen and erthe at thyne owne wyll
And other popes out of mynde
That euer shall after in erthe dwell
And for thou laborest thy mother to saue
That yet is in heuy cas
Our lorde wyll that she haue
This trentall done for her trespas
A trentall is of thre tymes ten
And ten tymes thre the same also
So many masses she haue than
Her to relefe out of her wo
Often chefe festes in the yere
Thre masses of eche must nedes synge
with all seruyce folowynge after here
Delynge of almes and also fastynge
what feastes thes be se and take hede
And wysely in thy mynde them pyght
Loke on this boke here maye thou rede
Of whome they be and what is theyr myght
Thre masses of the Annūcyacyon
whan god and man conceyued was
Our kynde to take for our redemcyon
witin a mayde he chace his place
Therfor forsoth the knot was knyt
Flesshe and blode together ran
The father of heuen this maryage shyt
Accordyd there was bothe god and man
The seconde feast is it of chrystes Natyuyte
whan he was borne vs all to glade
This full blessed nedes must be
For man goddes brother there was made
The thyrde feste is the Epyphanye
whan thre kynges with presentes sought
Throughe Herodes landes hym to espye
To offer gyftes that they had brought
This feste is full blessed and also holy
who so hereth a masse that daye
Of soden dethe he shall not dye
Nor mysshap in no iorney
The fourthe is of our dere ladye
To the temple whan she her dyght
with meke harte her to puryfye
After the lawe as it was ryght
The fyfte feast is of our saluacyon
A sowle to helpe that is in nede
It must be of his Resurrexcyon
A masse it is of full great mede
In the worshyp of his passyon
That suffred dethe for our sake
who so syngeth it with deuocyon
A sete for hym he dothe make
The syxte feste muste be truely
Of the gloryous Assencyon
whan he to heuen dyd stye
To knyt the knot of our redemcyon
His owne goste downe he sent
Bothe wyt and wysdome vs to teche
To rule his lawe whan he was went
His chyrche to kepe and his gospel to preche
The seueth masse muste be of the holy goost
That is chefe comforte of our consolacyon
This masse helpeth a sowle mooste
Out of payne to saluacyon
The two other feste of our lady be
Chefe meane bytwene god and man
The Assumpcyon and her Natyuyte
These be the then festes that ye must han
These make thyrty the hole trentall
Thre mastes of eche feste thou must take
A sowle from payne delyuer thou shall
If it be songe for the sowles sake
An oryson there it that longeth therto
At euery masse it muste be sayd nede
with good deuocyon loke it be do
It is the chefe thynge the sowle to fede

God that art our redemcyon
Salue also of mannes sowle here
As thou chase also the lande of promyssyon
Before all other to be borne there
And suffered dethe in that holy lande
To paye our raunsome amendes to make
Delyuer the sowle from the dyuels hande
And to thy mercy lorde thou it take
And as thou wolde therin dye
And halowed it with thy precyous blode
Delyuer it lorde frome penury
That blessed land that is so good
By the hyghe vertue of thy grace
The people that leueth nat in the
Tourne theyr hartes and gyue them space
That they may sone amendyd be
And all that leue in the
Thou socour them for thy lordly mercy
And of vs haue mracy and pyte
In the houre whan we shall dye
The whiche reygneth with the father dere
with the holy goste that grace dothe sende
By all the worldes that euer were
Or euer shall without ende
Now how thou shalt synge this trental then
Take now thou good hede for euermore
whan a feste cometh of these then
Faste ye muste the euen before
Brede and water holde the therto
None other mete loke thou take
Placebo and Dirige loke thou say also
Shryue the clene and redy make
The nexte morowe thy masse to synge
weth all seruyce of the day
Seuen psalmes with the letany say fastinge
And commendacyon yf thou maye
Forgette not the orison goynge before
In euery masse of this trentall
It is chefe salue of the sore
Loke euery daye thou saye it all
within seuē dayes two masses nedes more
Of the same feste must be
And all other seruyce say it before
As thou dydest in euery degre
A peny in almes thou must dele
To some pore man that it nedes
That it maye stande to thy sowle hele
For it is chefe of all good dedes
This rule thou kepe at euery masse
If thou wylte brynge a sowle from blame
Do this wysely more and lasse
And teche all other to do the same
Farewell Gregory I parte the fro
Be stedfast in mynde nyght and daye
Temtacyon of the fendes thou shalt se so
To let the of thy purpose yf they maye
whan he was gone and this lyght past
My harte was colde my body afryght
There was no comforte but in god to trast
I toke me to his marcy all that longe nyght

Than it befell vpon the nexte day
Ryght in the mornynge tyde
To scala celi I toke the waye
And prayed to god to be my gyde
The dyuell at me had great spyte
He thought my purpose for to let
with false collusyons hym to quyte
The good dede I was on set
For whan I shulde my masse begynne
A maruelous thynge appered than
Deuyls of helle came rynnynge in
In lykenes of myne owne men
And sayd alas that they were bor
what doest thou nowe here this tyde
Thy hossholde/thy treasoure/all are gone
Thy men be spylte on euery syde
Thy place is on fyre thy people spyllen
Come saue this myschefe or all is shente
Leue this purpose tourne home agayne
Or all thy lyue dayes thou shalte repent
I was a frayd nere out of my mynde
They semed my seruauntes and my men
In very lykenes of mannes kynde
They appered before myne eyen
To rome I retourned with carefull chere
And prayed saynt Peter myne helpe to be
I loked aboute yf peryll were
All thynge I founde in prosperyte
Than thanked I god with all my myght
And thought it was the deuyls dede
To the churche I tourned agayne full ryght
This holy trentall there to spede
The tyde of daye it was nere past
These false fendes dyd me betraye
My purpose to spyll was all there cast
That for the sowle I shulde not praye
I crossyd my brest and to the aulter yede
And sayd my masse as I shulde do
with gostly fode the sowle to fede
with all thynges that longeth therto
Thus I procedyd by and by
whyles ten dayes were at an ende
I was glad the tyme drewe nye
I trustyd her state for to amend
The next daye in the mornynge
In the twylyght or it were day
A lytell before the sonne rysynge
I went alone my Matans to say
within a whyle my blode wexed colde
A spryte came rennynge me besyde
Lyke a chylde of tho yere olde
I spake to it and bad it a byde
In the vertu of Crystes holy name
what creature I saye thou be
Stande here styll and make no grame
Tyll I haue tolde my wyll to the
Anone it tourned and sayd to me
I am the sowle that thou labourest fore
Grace shall I haue thoroughe laboure ofthe
Blessed be the houre that thou were borne
God hath take me to his marcy
By the vertue of this trentall I shall haue
The blysse of heuen perpetually
Fro damnacyon now am I saue
Now do thy deuocyon for chrystes sake
I may no lenger abyde here
Gyue me leue my waye to take
My kepers come they nyghe me nere
Beware she sayd they wyll the noye
Auoyde the place and let them passe
Thus sone it vanysshed fro my Ioye
I se no more where it was
I rose and was ryght sore agaste
I wyst not well where to abyde
The wether anone was ouer caste
Deuylles cryed anone on euery syde
with a loude voyce they cryed all
Out alas we lese our praye.
This false Gregory quyte she shall
within shorte tyme yf that we maye
I was a ferde my body dyd quake
It thundred and lyghtened spytuosly
For fere I durste no waye take
I trowed my selfe that tyme to dye
My sowle I put in goddes wyll
I crossed my body on euery syde
whyle all were done I stode there styll
And let it passe and ouer slyde
Sone after anone the wether ceased
The sone appered and shone full bryght
Than my comforte fast encreased
Home I went with all my myght
And thanked god and our lady
And saynt Peter that was so good
That me preserued so specyally
From the perell that I in stode

This passyd forthe many a daye
what befell than shall ye here
The fende thought he wolde assay
To lese all I dyd this yere
In the feast of wytsontyde
The thre masses of the trentall
The false fende had aspyed
They profyte the sowle moste of all
with false sleyghtes and subtylte
Me to let was all his caste
In the chapell wherin was he
The false fende he ran faste
Euen as I was boune to masse
In lykenes of a naked man
Full of woundes bledynge sore was
He cryed on hym and sayd alas than
Helpe me nowe for I am lorne
There is no remedy in this case
I was aferde whan I hym se
Great people came in euery place
And sayd false traytour thy dethe is dyght
This is no place the for to hyde
with dagers drawen and swerdes bryght
To sle hym they were about in that tyde
Myne harte agrysed whan I sawe it thus
For mannes slaughter I was in fere
To them I whent a great pase
And sayd syrs what do ye here
I charge you auoyde out of this place
And make no debate here
They swore by hym that all hathe wrought
Out of this place we wyll not stere
Tyll he be dede that we haue sought
He shall neuer haue other ende in faye
I sawe remedy in that case nought
I was afrede and drede alwaye
Lest they wolde suspende the place
Me to let as for that daye
Anone it fell in my mynde thus
It was the fendes collucyon aye
Some sleyght or subtylyte for to fynde
Tyll tyme of the daye were all done
The holy trentall to let blynde
The soule to haue in theyr daunger sone
Beforethe aulter I set me
And sayd to them in this manere
In the vertue of hym that dyed on tre
ye false deuyls I saye to you here
Out of this place fast fle
That neuer after ye me afraye
The deuyll thought aspyed was he
They vanysshed with sorow and careyaway
They made a noyse and loude they cryed
The chaple stepell with them they bare
I sange masse to the ende vnhyed
In peas and concyence of rest thare
The soule to god I dyd commende
Enterely besechynge hym of grace
And this sowle fro payne to defende
In blysse of heuen grauntynge a place

And this yere was come to ende
That the trentall was nyghe done
I prayed to god some token me to sende
And for his marcy to here my bone
Some comforte of the sowle to here
Howe it stode and in what degre
And yf the tyme were ought nere
That she from payne delyuered shulde be
The nyght before that I shulde synge
The last masse of the trentall
A voyce I harde and sawe nothynge
To me it spake with voyce small
Awake it sayd and to me attende
Of thy mother thou louest so dere
Nowe is the trentall at an ende
Meruaylous thynges thou shalte here
I am he sayd the good aungell
Thynke vpon what I say the
Tydynges trewe I the tell
The tyme is come quyte shall she be
Anone as thou haste thy deuoure done
And songe the masse of the Natyuyte
Of her thou shalte here full sone
She shall come this waye by the
Anone sodenly vpon a brayde
If thou her aungell be
why woldes thou suffer her thus arayde
And let her in this maner dye
Thou was not fryndely in thy kepynge
That to the was take so specyally
Thou lettest her perysshe in her endynge
Thou dydest not thy deuore truely
For without the she dyd ryght nought
Thou were a feble frynde at nede
To lese the ymage that god had wrought
Howe canste thou excuse the in this ded
yes he sayd wylt thou se howe
In her creacyon fyrst of all
Innocency I kepte her she myght not bowe
Neyther in no wyse to hym fall
But whan dyscrecyon dyd her shewe
Our lorde sent wyt her to teche
All badnes her to eschewe
And gaue her frewell to be her leche
To chose eyther good or bad
Bothe were put to her eleccyon
wysdome ynoughe also she had
To kepe her sowle frome dampnacyon
yet I sayd all this maye be
That fre eleccyon was in her wyll
Howe canst thou excuse thy parte let se
But thou was cause that she dyd yll
If thou haddest thy parte do
And closed aboute her harte with drede
And thyne helpe therto
She shulde neuer haue done this dede
Grace he sayd was chefe of all
That she lacked without doute
But conscyence tolde her she dyd fall
It was nought she yede aboute
He is most chefe of our accuse
Apechynge her bothe day and nyght
And sayd this rode dyd she refuse
And wolde not repent whyle she myght
In good dedes dyd I her wrappe
And made her do almes dedes and fast
And kepe her alway fro mysshap
In hope that she wolde tourne at the last
The deuyll at the last had her betrapped
And broght her to myschefe
And led her euery fote that she stepped
In trust of grace she wolde amende
Thus was I busy her to saue
And kepte her euer from all wo
She myght no more of me craue
I dyd my deuoure ynoughe therto
I asked hym than where he had be
Syth she dyed and made her ende
with her contynually than sayd he
Fro great paynes her to defende
And nowe it is almoste past ouer
I must agayne to her gyde
The tyme me draweth wonder nere
Farwell I may no lenger abyde
Than was I glad as foule of day
In all the hast that I myght fynde
To ende this trentall without delay
That no faude were of my parte behynde
That daye than there was I styll
within the churche in my prayer
And there abode our lordes wyll
In hope of that I myght here
Thus it drewe almost to eue
I thought my selfe it was best
with some fode my body to releue
And sone after to take my rest
whan I had supped I rose full ryght
Into a garden me to rome
Tyll it were fayre in twylyght
And tyme almost to take myne home
As I loked into the eest
A great sonne bothe ther I sawe
Longe whyle there dyd it last
And sodenly anone it dyd withdrawe
Therewith myne harte began to glad
I hopyd some tydynges to here that nyght
I kneled downe and prayer made
And thanked god of that syght
within a whyle there came a lyght
As far as I myght wel se
Therwith the fyrmament wexte all bryght
I marueled greatly what it myght be
So it encresed more and more
And drewe to me a good spede
I sawe it come and drede it sore
I wayted a place and thether yede
There to abyde what so euer befell
To se some ende of that syght
A spirite it was that wyste I well
It hasted to me with all the myght
It was an aungell that came in hast
And sayd Gregory thou shalte se
Thyne owne mother be not agast
How she standeth and in what degre
Therwith meued was my mode
I loked aboute on euery syde
Anone the lyght before me stode
The bryghtnes therof I myght not abyde
The sowle in the myddes therof was pyght
The good aungell stode hyr besyde
My sperites were rauesshed with that syght
I taryed to se what wolde betyde
She spake to me full myldely
And sayd sone blessed thou be
That euer I bare the in my body
Thou haste brought me to this degre
without ende to be in ioye abydynge
And well is hym that euer was bore
That maye for hym this trentall do synge
For it profyteth a sowle more
Than any other erthely thynge
Therfore for chrystes sake fonde
Let prestes synge soules sauynge
And he that wyll vnderstonde
Moche good shall them behauynge
For many is the sowle that there is lore
For faute of socore and releuynge
Full sore they shall abye therfore
That haue theyr goodes in theyr kepynge
And curse the howre and allso the day
The mother them bare the father them gate
with deuyls of hell shall be there playe
That suffereth a sowle to lye in that state
For he is false and eke vnkynde
That leueth asowle in damnacyon
And with his owne good may it vndynde
And brynge it to saluacyon
For chrystes sake preche it aboute
And tell the people of this peryll
For they that be in faute without doute
There is no remedy they shall to hell
without ende there dwell shall they
In fyer and brymstone for theyr dede
Full dere they shall that good abye
And haue that rewarde for theyr mede
Farewell nowe and haue my blessynge
Take this in mynde and be of good chere
Tyme is come of our departynge
I maye no lenger abyde here
The cloudes opened on euery syde
Aungelles fro heuen downe were sent
with myrthe and melody she vp styed
All aboue the sterres in the fyrmament
To the blysse of heuen without ende is
where myrthe and ioye without ende
Suche messangers our lorde her sende
Her sorowe and care for to lys
whan I had this syght sene
It was well drawen in to the nyght
I was ryght glad and also fayne
That god had shewed me that syght
To bed I wente and toke my reste
As goddes wyll was I shulde do
And there bethought me what was the best
All other sowles to brynge fro wo
I called all the clarkes of that citye
And ordeyned this trentall to be in mynde
And all prestes in eche degre
And gaue them power to lose and bynde
To helpe all sowles that had nede
That lay in paynes that were full sore
The blesse of heuen to haue theyr mede
Chryste graūt them all that same blysse thore
That helpeth any sowle heuen to wynne
Of all good praers that they not mysse
whan body and sowle shall parte atwayne
This trentall wryten in thre langages
In laten/frenche and englysse eke
In scala celi who wyll it se
In the southe syde he maye it seke
God brynge vs to the blysse that euer shalbe.