The poems of John Audelay :: :: University of Virginia Library

The poems of John Audelay

Edited with introduction, notes and glossary [by Ella Keats Whiting]

Audelay, John

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Audite hec, omnes gentes: hanc epistolam scripsit Dominus Ihesus Christus manibus suis et misit in siuitatem Gazon vbi ego Petrus primum episcopatum accepi.

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In die epephanis &c.

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1

[OMITTED]
In hel ne purgatore non oþer plase,
Þes synnes wold make ȝou schamyd and schent,
And lese ȝour worchyp in erþ and grace.
Al day with ene sene þou has
Hou men bene slayne fore dedle synne,
And han vengans fore here trespace;
Boþ lyue and goodes þay lesyn þen
Bi londys law.
Ȝif þai had kept Cristis comanndment,
Þai schuld neuer be schamyd ne chent,
Ne lost here lyfe, ne lond, ne rent,
Nouþer hongud ne draw.

Hel is not ordent fore ryȝtwyse me[n],
Bot fore hom þat here seruen þe fynd;
No more ys a preson of lyme and ston
Bot to hom þat þe lauys þai done offend,
Fore wyckyd dedys makys þeuys i-schent,
Hye on galouys fore to heng.
Þe ryȝtwyse men þai han god end,
Fore þay bene treue in here leuyng,
Trust wel þer-to.
He þat leuys here ryȝtwysly,
On what deþ þat euer he dy,
His soul neuer schal ponyschyd be,
Ne neuer wyt of wo.

Þe syn of sodom into heuen,
Hit crys euer on God almyȝt,
And monslaȝt with a rewful steuen,
Hit askys vengans day and nyȝt;
Extorcyons aȝayns þe ryȝt,
And huyrus þat with wrong holdon be,
Damnacion to ham hit is y-dyȝt
Þat vsyn þese, and avowtere,
Euerychon.
Þese synnys a mon þai done blynde,
Fore þai be don aȝayns kynde,
And bene þe werkys of þe fynde
Of damnacion.

Þre synns princypaly a man doþ mare,
Murþyr, þeuft, and avoutre;
Þai wyl ȝou schend ore ȝe be ware,
Be þai done neuer so preuely;
Þe fynd wyl schew ham hopunly,
Þat al þe word schal haue wyttyng,
Fore þai bene cursyd in heuen on hye.
Ale þat vsus þat cursid doyng,
Þai wyl be schent.
Fore morþer, Cayme cursud of God was he,
And fore þeft, þeuys al day hongud þay be;
Fore avoutre, vengans had kyng Daue,
Fore brekyng of þe sacrement.

Avowtre ne lechory men set not by,
To breke þe bond of þe sacreme[n]t;
Þay schul aby ful sekyrly,
Bot þai haue spase ham to repent.

Here-fore, ȝe curatis, ȝe wyl be schent
And prestis þat bene lewyd in here leuyng,
Fore to þis syn ȝe done asent
With euyl ensampyl to oþer ȝeueng;
And wretyn hit ys
Ȝe were choson to chastyte,
To kepe ȝour holy order and ȝour degre
In parfyt loue and charite,
And mend ale oþer þat done amys.

Kepe ȝoure wedloke, ȝe weddid men;
In paradyse God furst hit mad
Betwene Adam and Eue with trew loue þen,
Boþ mon and womon þer-with to glad;
Þer-with He is boþ plesud and payd
Ȝif hit be kept laufully.
Hymselfe was borne of a mayde
To fulfyl þat sacrement princypaly;
Into herþ he come
To make þer eyrus of heuen blys,
Þat Lucefyr lost and al hys;
Monkynd schal hit aȝayne encrese
Or þe day of dome.

Nou ȝif a woman maryd schal be,
Anoon sche schal be boȝt and sold;
Hit is fore no loue of hert treuly
Bot fore couetyse of lond or gold.

Þis is Goddis wyle and His lau wolde,
Euan of blood, euan good, euan of age,
Fore loue to-geder þus cum þai schalde,
Fore þes makus metely maryage
Here in al-wyse.
Þai schal haue ayrs ham betwene
Þat schal haue grace to þryue and þene;
Þer oþer schul haue turment and tene
Fore couetyse.

Þer is no cryatour, as wreton Y fynde,
Saue only mon þat doþ outrage;
Þai chesun here makus of here houne kynd,
With treu loue makun here mareage.
Nou a lade wyl take a page
Fore no loue bot fore fl[e]schely lust,
And al here blood dysparage;
Þes lordys and lordchips þay ben i-lost
In mone a place.
Lordys and lorchypus þay wastyn away,
Þat makys false ayris, hit is no nay,
And wele and worchyp fore euer and ay,
Onour and grace.

Now ȝif þat a man he wed a wyfe
And hym þynke sche plese hym noȝt,
Anon þer rysis care and stryfe;
He wold here selle þat he had boȝt,
And schenchypus here þat he haþ soȝt,
And takys to hym a lotoby.

Þese bargeyn wyle be dere a-boȝt;
Here ore henns he schal aby;
He is foresworne.
When he as chosyn hyr to his make,
And plyȝt here trowþ to here y-take,
Hy schuld neuer here foresake,
Euen ne morne.

Aȝayns ale þis remedy I fynde:
Foresake ȝoure syn, Y ȝou pray;
To God and mon loke ȝe be kynde,
To heuen þer is [no] noþer way,
And make amendis wyle þat ȝe may.
Ȝif ȝe wyl haue remyssyon,
God ȝe most boþ plese and pay,
Or ellus haue damnacion.
Wyle ȝe han space,
Þus gracyously says þe Kyng of blys,
Ȝeff ȝe wyl mend þat ȝe do mysse,
Nolo mortem peccatoris,
Ȝe schul haue grace.

In what order or what degre
Hole cherche haþ bound þe to,
Kepe hit wel, I counsel þe;
Dyssyre þou neuer to go þer-fro,
Fore þou art boundon go were þou goo.
When þou hast ressayu[e]d þe sacrement
Þer is no mon may hit vndoo,
Bot he be cursid verament.

In þe gospel þou sist,
Þat God be law byndus y-fyre,
Þer is no mon þat haþ pouere
Hit to vndo in no manere,
Bot he be curst.

Loue ȝour God ouer al þyng,
Ȝoure neȝbore as ȝourselfe, as I ȝou saye;
Let be ȝoure oþis, ȝoure false sweryng;
In clannes kepe ȝoure haleday;
Ȝoure fader, ȝoure moder worchip ay;
Sle no mon fore wordle þyng;
Bakbyte no mon nyȝt ne day,
Ne say no word to hym sklaunderyng;
False wytnes loke þou non bere;
Dysseyte ne þeft loke þou do non,
And lechory þou most foreswere;
Here beþ þe comaundmentis euerychon;
Loke ȝe kepe hem wele.
I rede ȝe seruen heuen Kyng,
Fore ane loust or lykyng,
Haue mynd apon ȝoure endyng,
Of þe payns of helle.

Anoþer remede ȝet þer is;
Gentyl seres, herkens to me,
Þe vij werkys of merce, so haue I blys,
I wyl declare ham oponle;
Þai schul be schewed ful petuysly
At domysday, at Cristis cumyng;
Þer God and mon present schal be,
And al þe world on fuyre brenny[n]g,
A reuful aray.

Þen wele is hym and wele schal be
Þat doþ þese werkys with pete;
He schal haue grace and merce
On domysday.

Þe hungre ȝif mete; þe þorste ȝif dryng;
Cleþ þe nakyd, as I þe say;
Vysyte þe seke in preson lying,
And bere þe ded, as I þe pray,
And herbere þe pore þat goþ be þe way,
And teche þe vnwyse of þi cunny[n]g.
Do þese werkys, boþ nyȝt and day,
To Goddis worchip and His plesyng;
Þis is His wylle.
Euer haue þis in þi mynd;
To þe pore loke þou be kynd,
Þen in heuen þou schalt hit fynd,
Þou schalt neuer spyle.

Þi V wyttis þou most know;
Þonke þi God þat land ham þe;
Þi heryng, þi seyng, as I þe schewe,
Þi syȝt, þi smellyng, here be iij;
Þi touchyng, þi tastyng, here V þer be,
To reule þe withyn þi leuyng.
God haþ þe graundid ham graciously
Hym to loue ouer al þyng;
His wyl hit is.
Ȝif þi V wyttis here byn well spend
Þi God þou schalt noȝt afend,
Bot bryng þiselfe to good end,
Into heuen blys.

Ellys a mon he were vnablle,
As a best ys of kynd,
Bott mon ys made resnabyle,
Good and euyl to haue in his mynd,
And has fre choys, as we fynde,
Weder he wyl do good or ylle,
Owþer y-sauyd or ellys y-schent,
Owþer haue heuen or ellus haue helle,
Þou hast fre choys.
Þen I red foresake þe fynd;
To God and mon loke þou be kynd,
And haue His passyon in þi mynd,
Þat dyed on cros.

Þou most haue fayþ, hope, and charyte,
Þis is þe ground of þi beleue,
Ellys i-sauyd þou maȝt not be;
Þus Poul in his pystyl he doþ preue.
Þen God and mon þou schalt neuer greue;
Þis is þe ground of good leuyng;
Þen charyte he is chif,
Her-fore he louys God ouer al þyng;
Þis wyl I preue.
Lok in þi merour;
Ȝif þou loue þi neȝtboure,
Þen þou louyst þi Sauyoure;
Þou art trew in þi beleue.

Þi beleue is þe fayþ of hole cherche;
Soule, in hope God haþ ordynd þe,
Euer good werkys þat þou schuld werche
And be rewarded þer-fore in heuen on hye.

Þen charyte chif callid is hee
Fore he counselys vche mon þat is leuyng
To do as þou woldest me dud by þe,
And bryng þi lyf to good endyng
Here and hen.
Do fore ȝoureself ore ȝe gone
Or mede of God get ȝe none,
Bot sone be foreȝetone
Of kyþ and of kyn.

Euer haue pete of þe pore,
Of þe goodus þat God þe sende;
Þou hast non oþer here tresoure
Aȝayns [þ]e day of iugyment;
Or ellys þou schalt be schamyd and chent
When þou art callid to þi rekynyng;
Þer God and mon schal be present,
And al þe world on fuyre brenyng
Þe to afray.
Ȝif þou haue partyd with þe pore,
God wyl þonke þe þer-fore
And in His kyngdom þe restore
Þe lyf þat lastyþ ay.

Þe pore schul be made domysmen
Apon þe ryche at domysday;
Let se houe þai cun onswere þen
For al here ryal, reuerent aray;
In hunger, in cold, in þurst, weleaway,
Afftyr here almes ay waytyng,
Þay wold not vysete vs nyȝt ne day;
Þus wyl þai playn ham to heuen Kyng,

Þat is aboue.
Þus we dydon myschyvysly;
Fore hungyr and þurst ful petuysly
Þai nold not on us haue no pete,
Ny for þai loue.

2

De concordia inter rectores fratres et rectores ecclesie.

God haþ grauntyd grace vnto oure lerny[n]g,
Al þat we fynden fayfully wrytyn in hole wryt,
Þat be our pacyens princypaly, and holy wrytyng,
We schuld haue consolacion and comford, byleue truly in hyt.
I schal say ȝou þe soþ, þat wele schul ȝe wyt,
Hit is Godys word, and His werke, and His worchyng;
Be þe grace of þe Hole Gost to-gedyr hit is y-knyt,
Redle vs to remembyr in oure redyng
And hold hit in mynde.
Þer is no mon þat saued may be
But he haue fayþe, hope, and charite,
And do as þou woldust me dud by þe,
To God and men be kynde.

Hec est fides catholyca.

Þis foreward furst we mad at þe fontston,
To-fore owre fader fayþfely þat folowed vs in fay,
To forsake Syr Sathanas his werkus euerychon,
And become Cristen men, to byleue in God veray,
And kepe His comawndmentis kyndly nyȝt and day.
Þer we were croysid in a crysum with a carful krye;
To þis couenant was callud to wytnes, Y say,
Oure godfars, oure godmoders, to stond þer vs by;

When we myȝt not speke,
Þer þai answerd fore vs,
In þe name of Ihesus,
Al þre with one woys;
Þis bond we schuld noȝt breke.

Time Dominum et mandata serua.

Hwo-so brekys þis bond, bare þai bene of blys;
Bot þai ben saluyd of here syn or þai hense passe,
Þai schulu[n] wytt of wo, Y warne ȝoue y-wys;
Hit schal be ponyschid here ore hennus euere trespasse;
Men haue not þis in mynd nowþer more ne lasse.
Þai most obey obedyans þat þai be boundon to,
And mend here here mysdedys, and here matens and masse,
And kepe þe comawndmentis of Crist; þis deute most þai doo
With deuocion,
Fore þai beþ ayres of heuen blys;
Þe Fader of heuen haþ grauntud ham þis,
Ȝif þai wyle mend þat þai do mys,
To haue remyssyon.

Sapiencia huius mundi stulticia est aput Dominum.

Alas! al þe wyt of þis word fallus to foly,
Þus sayþ Sapyens forsoþ in þe boke of lyfe.
He has wysdam and wyt, I tel ȝow trewly,
Þat can be ware or he be wo and leue in clene lyue.
Who mai kepe hym vnkyt fro a kene knyfe
Ȝif he boldly þat blad touche in his tene?
No more may a mon here, maydon, ne wyfe,
Plese God vnto his pay bot his consyans be clene.

Ensaumpil I make:
Who may here serue a lorde
Bot ȝif he hold hym fo[r]warde
He getys neuer reward,
Y dare vndertake.

Si quis diligit me sermonem meam seruabit.

He þat sayþ he louys his Lord, on hym take good eme,
And kepus not His comawndmentis as a Cristyn mon;
Leue he is a lyere, his dedis þai done hym deme,
Fore he schuld walke þe same wayes his Lord had i-gone,
Ellys, lely, hit is like þat treu loue ys þer non,
Fore he schuld sew his soferayn and his saueour;
Þis may ȝe kyndle know; hit is treu as ane ston.
He lese ale his lyue-days and his labour,
And stondis in gret drede;
He þat is vntreu to his Lorde,
Ouþer in dede or in word,
Þe law wyl hym reward,
Deþ to his mede.

Vox populi vox Dei.

I, Marcol, þe more fole mon, on my mad wyse,
I send þe, broder Salamon, to say as I here,
Hou homle hosbondusmen here hertis þai aryse,
Þai woldon þai wroȝton wysely þat schuld ham lede and lere.
Do þi message mekely to pryst and to frere;
Þai are þe lanternys of lyf þe leud men to lyȝt,
Bot þai be caȝt with couetyse, with consians vnclere
Aȝeyns þe lauys of here Lord, reson, and ryȝt.
Hit is noȝt vnknow.

Comawnd hem in al wyse
Neuer on oþer þai dar dyspyse;
Fore here cursid couetyse
Here horne is e-blaw.

Vbi est tesaurus tuus ibi et cor tuum erit.

Counsel ham fro couetyse; cursid mot he be!
He wyl hem lede to here lost and lyke to be lore;
Ȝif þai foloyn his fare þai fallyn to foly;
He wyl ham gyde gylfully and goo hem before;
Haue þai neuer so mekyl mok he wyl haue more;
With wylis and with wrongus he wyl hit ay wyn;
He is vnkynd and vncurtes; he kepis not to restore
Þat he takys amys to no maner mon,
Hent his endyng.
Þen is he a traytour
Fore he trustys to his secatour;
He schuld his soule socour
Here in his leuyng.

Auerte oculos tuos ne vidiant vanitatem.

Dispise þou no pristhod, broder, I þe pray,
Bot veynglory, and here vysis, and here vanite;
Bed ham mend þat þay do mys, spare not to say,
Fore her dedus wyl hem deme ȝif þai be gylte.
Þai schuld rader repreue þe synnys þat þai se
Rennyng and reynyng in þe reume al aboute,
And clanse here consyans clene, and kepe charite;
Þen myȝt þai say a sad soþ and stond out of doute
In al mens syȝt.
Þer-of þe pepul wold be fayne
Fore to cum home aȝayne,
Þat haþ goon gatis vngayne
For defaute of lyȝt.

Quod natura didit nemo tollere poterit.

Vche best þat ys blest to-geder þai wyl draw,
Be kynd to þe cuntre þat þai come fro,
Ȝet þai ben vnleryd, vnwyse in þe law,
Bot as nature has ham noryschid, hit nedus no noder to do.
We were put in paradise to haue wele withoutyn woo,
Hent we had vnblest brokyn þe comanndmentis of our Kyng,
Þat is Lord of al Lordys. Were bene one moo
Þat mai vs salue of oure sore, oure botyng to vs bryng?
Þat Lord be He blest!
I rede ȝe draun to ȝo[ur] Kyng
Fore one lust or lykyng;
Pray hem with here prechyng
To set mon soule in rest.

Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris, etc. Set vnusquisque onus suum portabit.

What was Abel þe worse þaȝ Kayme his borne broder
Were cursid for his couetyse and his creuel dede;
No more ys a good prest þe worse fore anoþer,
Þat wyle loue his Lord God, Hym serue and drede.
Make moche of a good mon, on hym take good hede;
Loke ȝe bete not Bayard for bryd ne fore brend.
Ale a sete may be sauyd and schal þe better spede
Þroȝ þe prayere of a good prest, an hole, and an hynd,
Þat kepys his ordore.
He whot neuer hou sone
God wyl here his bone,
And al þat here wele done,
Heryd ys here prayoure.

Declinate a me malingni, etc.

Ȝif þer be a pore prest and spirituale in spiryt,
And be deuoute, with deuocion his seruyse syng and say,
Þay likon hym to a lollere and to an epocryte;
Ȝif he be bese in his bedus þe Prince of heuen to pay,
And holde hym in hole cherche dule vche day
Oute of þe curse of cumpane, and kepe his concyans clene,
He ys a nyþyng, a noȝt, a negard, þai say.
Bot ȝif he folou his felows, his chekys mai be ful lene,
On hym men han no mynde;
A holy prest men set not by,
Þer-fore þer bene bot feu truly;
Þai kepe not of here cumpany;
To hom men beþ vnkynde.

Increpasti superbos maledicti qui declina[n]t aman[da]tis [tuis].

Oure gentyl ser Ione, ioy hym mot betyde,
He is a mere mon of mouþ among cumpane;
He con harpe; he con syng; his orglus ben herd ful wyd;
He wyl noȝt spare his purse to spend his selare;
Alas! he ner a parsun or a vecory!
Be Ihesu he is a gentyl mon and iolyle arayd,
His gurdlis harneschit with siluer, his baslard hongus bye,
Apon his perte pautener vche mon ys apayd,
Boþ maydyn and wyfe.
I-fayþ, he schal noȝt from vs gon
Fore oure myrþ hit were e-don,
Fore he con glad vs euerychon,
Y-pray God hold his lyue.

Vanitas vanitat[u]m et omnia vanitas.

Þus þis wyckyd world is plesid with vanete,
And wraþyn God wyttyngly, vnwysely euermore;
God of His gret grace graunt hem þat beþ gulte
Here mysse and here mysdedus to mend here þer-fore,
And let hem neuer fore here lust, Lord, be forelore,
Bot send soreue in here hert here synnus to slake;
Into þi curte and þi kyngdam, Lord, hem restore;
From ale temtacion and tene þe trenete vs take,
His hestis to fulfyle.
Here schul ȝe here anon
Of men of relegyon,
What lyfe þay leedon,
Goddus heest to fulfyl.

Relegio munda et immaculata. Hoc est preceptum meum vt diligatis invicem.

I moue þese mater to monkys in a meke maner
And to al relegyous þat beþ i-blest by Goddis ordynans;
Forst Saynt Benet hom enformyd to kepe her cloyster,
In pouert, and in prayerys, in preue penaw[n]s,
And to abeyde abstinens, and foresake abundans,
To sle þe lust of hore lycam and hore lykyng,
And obey obedyans, and kepe obseruans;
Boþ in cloystyr and in quere holdyþ sylens fore ane þyng,
And to God and mon be kynde,
And ryse at mydnyȝt out of here ryst,
And pray fore here good-doers as breder i-blest,
And depart here almys lest hit be lest
Fore þe founders þat hem fynd.

Fore in þe rewle of relygyous þer may ȝe rede
Hou þe graceous goodys of God schuld be spend;
Vche person schuld haue his part after þat he had ned,
And cast hit al in comyn þe goodys þat God ham send,
And leue not lyke leud men fore schame lest ȝe be schent,
Þat storon stryf and wraþ because of couetyng.
Ȝe schuld haue no propurte; on þe pore hit schuld be spend;
And hold vp ȝoure houshold and ȝoure housyng,
And let hem not adoune,
And herbore þe pore pur charyte,
And ȝef mete and dreng to þe nede,
And cumford hom þat woful be,
Ellis be ȝe no relegyon.

Seruite Domino in timore et exultate ei cum tremore.

Boþ in cloyster and in quere when þat þai syng and rede,
Aperte et distincte, han mynd for ham, þay pray,
And kepun her pausus and her poyntis, ellus myȝt þai gete no mede,
Fore þus sayþ here Souereyn, soþly to say,
‘Mi pepyl prays[e] me with here lyppus, here hertis ben far away,
Fore þai be caȝt with couetyse þat schal ham cast in care.
To þe worchip of þis world þai wryn fro me away;
Þai han no lykyng ne no lust to lerne apon my lare;
To me þai beþ vnkynd.
Aȝayns my gret goodnes
Þai chewyn me vnbuxumnes,
And I graunt ham foreȝifnes;
Þai haue not þis in mynd.’

Þus He preuys ȝoure prayers and ȝour spiritualte,
For when ȝe prayyn to ȝour God, ȝe spekyn with Hym in spyrit,
And ȝif ȝe reden in hole wryt, He speke[s] aȝayn with þe.

Remembyr ȝou redely when ȝe red, þer may ȝe wyle wyt;
Take knoulache at ȝoure consians fore þer hit is y-knyt;
Þus sayþ Marke soþely, Mathou, Louke, and Ion.
No mon mese in þis mater ny in holy wryt,
For ale þe iiij doctors acordon ale in hon,
And clerkys of deuenete,
Þai conferme þe same
And comawndon in Cristis name.
Hole wryt no mon blame;
Hit is Goddis preuete.

Beatus qui intellegit super egenum et pauperem.

Fayne mai be þe fadyrs and al þe fonders
Þat sustyne or sokeren relygious in one way,
And so mai be soþli ale here good-doars
Þat prayn for hom besyly boþ nyȝt and day.
When ȝour caren is y-clu[n]ggun and cast into clay,
Hore matyns, here masse, fore ham þai red and syng;
When al þe welþ of þis word is went from hem away,
Þen þe bedis of hole cherche þai beþ abydyng
Fore euer and for ay.
And do ȝou dredles out of drede,
Þai schal haue heuen to here mede,
Þat socures relegyous at nede,
Her in ane way.

Da tua dum tua sunt; post mortem tunc tua non sunt.

Lokys, lordus, to ȝoure lyffe and to ȝour leuyng
For I am touchid vpon þe tong þe soþ for to say;
Þaȝ ȝe be leders of þe lond, gete ȝou louyng,
And cale þe clarge to ȝour counsel, þat beryn Cristis kay,

And holdist vp hole cherche þe prinse of heuen to pay;
Y dred lest dedle sun þis reme wyl dystry
Fore þe lauys of þis lond ben lad a wrong way,
Boþ temperale and spirituale, Y tel ȝou treuly,
Euen vp-so-doune.
Ȝif Goddus lawys ȝe dystry
And holy cherche set not by,
Þen farewell þe clergy;
Hit is ȝour damnacion.

Honora Deum tuum de tuis substancijs.

Takys fayre ensampyle be ȝour faders þat were ȝou before,
Hou þai worchypd hole cherche hyly to Godys honore;
Þer-fore þai blessun her burþ and þe bodys þat ham bare
For þai knouyn wel in her consians hit was her tresoure;
For al har lordchip and here londys hit farys as a floure;
Þis day hit ys fresche, tomorow hit is fadyng;
A sad ensampyl, for-soþ, ȝour soule to socour,
And do as ȝoure faders ded before here in here leuyng;
Hit is fore þe best.
Do fore ȝoureself or ȝe gone;
Trust not to an oþer mon
Ellus med of God get ȝe non,
Bot þen ȝe be e-blest.

Qui perceuerauerit vsque in finem, hic saluus erit.

Redele þese relegyos men schul haue hyȝ reward
Ȝif þai kepyn her cloyster and here comawndment.
Fore one fondyng of þe fynd fulfyl ȝour forward,
And castis awai couetyse þat is cause of cumberment,
And kepe ȝoue clene in chastyte, to charete ale asent.

What sad ȝour Soueren to His dyssiplis when He dyd wasche hem,
And knelud louly apon His knen to-fore His blessid couent,
And betoke hom þis tokyn, diligatis invicem,
As I haue louyd ȝow
Þen ioyful schal ȝe be,
For in my kyngdom ȝe schul me se,
And sit apon my dome with me;
My counsel schale ȝe knoue.

Withdraw ȝe not fro hole cherche ȝour faderes han ȝeuen before,
To þe prelatis and þe prystis fore hom fore to pray;
Bot ȝe han grace of God hit to restore,
Ȝe schul ȝild a carful counte on dredful domysday;
Y rede ȝe mend ȝour mysdedus here wyle ȝe may
And let no cursid counsel cast ȝou in care,
Fore al þe worchyp of þis word hit wyl wype sone away;
Hit falls and fadys forþ, so doþ a chere fayre;
Þenke wel on þis.
Þai bene a-cursid be Goddis law
Þe goodys of hole cherche þat withdrawe,
Þat oþer han ȝeuen in holdon daw
To mayntyn Godys seruyse.

Quid prodest homini si vniuersum mundum lucretur.

Þus haue I cumford ȝou, couens, and counsel ȝou fro care;
I rede ȝe obey obedyens þat ȝe bene bowndon to,
Þen schul ȝe bles ȝour byrþ and þe bodys þat ȝoue bare,
For ȝe forsake þis wyckyd word to haue wele without woo;
Þis may ȝe know kyndle, y-fayþ, boþ frynd and fo.
Remember ȝou of þe ryche mon and redle on his end,
What [h]is reches, his reuerans, his ryot, broȝt hym to;
Sodenle was send to hele with mone a foul fynde

To serue Ser Satanas,
Fore to his God he was vnkynd;
Þe lazar he had not in his mynd,
Fore worldys worchip hit con hym blynd,
Þer-fore he syngys, ‘alas!’

Humilitas est radix omnium virtutum.

Eeuer haue mekenes in ȝour mynd, relegyouse, I ȝou rede,
And vse vertuys, and leue visis ale vayne and vanete,
Fore ȝif ȝe loue ȝour Lord God, His lauys þai wyle ȝow leede
Into his court, and his coindam, were ys no va[yn]glorie;
Þat vnfyttyng sun, forsoþe, al verteus hit duystry;
Hit lad Lusyfer to his los þat was an angel clere;
God had claryfyud hym so clene of his cortesy,
He syȝ þe Trinyte apere within his body clere;
Þen enterd in hym enuy;
Whan he hade seyne þis gloryis syȝt,
He wolde arast hym his myȝt;
Anoon he fel downe ryȝt
Into hel sodenly.

Qui se exaltat vmeliabitur.

A sad ensampyl, forsoþ, to ale relygyous men
Þat bene caȝt with couetyse to be sit in hye astate;
Þai most hem ground furst in grace, hemselue know and ken,
Ellys þe worchip of þis world hit wyle sone abate.
Ȝe most haue mekenes and merce, hyȝnes of hert hate,
And werche not hafter wylsumnes, bot wysdam to ȝoue cale.
After chec fore þe roke, ware fore þe mate,
For ȝif þe fondment be false þe werke most nede falle

Withyn a lyty[l] stounde.
No mon make a couernour
Bot ȝif hit be to Godys honour;
His worchip wyl fare as floure,
Anon gurd to grounde.

Non honor sed honus accepere nomen honoris.

Þer is no worchyp, wyt hit, bot a gret charche,
To take þe name of astate and of hye honour,
Fore boþ to God and to mon þou most ned be large,
Fore þou art choson fore chif and made here couer[n]our;
Þen loke þou grounde þe in God and drede þi Saueoure
Þat wyle cale þe to þi countus and to þi rekynyng,
Hou þou hast done þi deute and treuly þi deuour,
And spend his goodys princypaly to his plesyng,
Fore þis most þou nede.
Ȝif þou hast spend more fore þe worde
Þen fore loue of þi Lord,
Þe law wyl þe reward
Deþ to þi mede.

Concilium meum non est cum impijs.

A foul defaute feythfuly in hole cherche we fynde,
To let lordis or leud men make election;
Þai schul not know ȝour consel; hit is aȝayn kynde;
Fore þis cause Saynt Thomas soferd deþ and passyon.
Ȝour chapytre schuld be cownsel and confession,
And now boldly þer-yn þay mon þe boþ halle;
Thus these preletus of her preuelache þay depreuon;
There holy chirche was fre now þay make hit thral,

And leson worchip and grace.
To let lord or leud men
Know of ȝoure corexeon,
Ȝe men of relegyon
Beþ cursid in þat case.

Leges meas custodite, dicit Dominus.

Ȝe schuld raþer sofyr deþ, payn, and passyon,
Þen lese þe loue of ȝoure Lord and let down his laue.
Corsid couetyse hit is þe cause, prid, presomseon,
Ȝe beþ vngroundid in grace; ȝour God ȝe con not knowe;
Ȝour dedus demeys ȝoue dredles; deuocion hit is withdraw;
Ȝe han chasid away charyte and þe reule of relegyon;
Al g[o]stle grace and holenes hit is layd fule lowe;
Þus haue ȝe pot hole cherche to gret confusion,
And made ȝourselfe þral.
Godys lauys ȝe han suspend,
Here-fore ȝe wyl be schamyd and chend;
Bot ȝe han grace ȝou to amend,
Ful dere aby ȝe schal.

Quid prodest homini, si vniuersum mundum lucretur.

Þenke on þe cursid couetyse mon þat to hymself gon say,
‘Ete, and drenke, and make þe mere, þis word is at þi wyle.’
A voyse onswerd hym anon, ‘To-morw or hit be day,
Þi soule sodenly schal be send into þe fouyre of hele,
Fore þou trustis more to þi tresoure and to þi catele,
Þen in þe loue of þi Lord þat ale þi wele haþ wroȝt.’
Þou carful caytyf, þe curst, hit is treu þat I þe telle,
Þou schuldyst þonke þi Lord God þat with His blod þe boȝt;
To Hym þou art vnkynd.
Þer-fore damnyd schalt þou be
Into hele perpetualy,
Withoutyn grace and mercy,
World withoutyn end.

Qui vult venire post me abneget semetipsum.

Bot he þat wyl come after Crist and kyndle bere his cros,
And crucyfe his caren with loue and charyte,
Leue þou me pat his loue schal not turne to losse;
Boþ fore his meryd and his mede rewardyd schal he be.
Þer is no tong þat con tele, hert þenke, ne ye se,
Þat ioye, þat iocundnes, þat Ihesus wyle ioyn hym to,
Ne þe melode, ne þe myry minstrasye;
Hit is without comparisoun, wele withouton woo,
And loue þat lastis ay.
Þat ioy hit schal neuer sesse
Bot euer endoyre and ȝeuer encrese;
Þus with rest and with pesse
I make a loue day.

Pacem et veritatem diligite, ait Dominus omnipotens.

My blessid broder Salamon, spesialy I þe pray,
Meue þis mater maysterfully to prest and to frere;
Spare not to say þe soþ and make a loue day;
Loke þou core not fauele ne be no flaterer.
I am heuy in my hert and chaunget al my chere,
To wyt leud men, vnleryd, laȝ ham to scorne;
Þai were better vnborne and broȝt on a bere,
Bot ȝif þai mend here mysdede y lykyn hem be lorne,
And kepe charyte.
Fore mon soule þai schuld saue;
No spot of sun þai schuld haue;
Alas! I trou þat þai raue.
Lord, benedycete!

Fore schryfte and fore trentale þai scorne ale þis stryf;
Ȝif hit be cause of gouetyse, cursud þen þai be;
Ȝif þai louen more here lucour þen þe soule lyue,
Lytul deynteþ of here doctrine and of here dyngnite.

Fore þai were chosun to be chast and kepe charyte,
And cast away couetys is cause of cumberment,
And be a clene kalender þe sekelers on to see,
Ellys with chenchip and with chame þai wyle be e-chent;
Þai stond in gret drede.
Pray ham ale for charyte
To saue mon soule spesialy,
Ellys woful schale þay be
Fore her falshede.

Si linguis hominum loquar et angelorum, caritatem autem non habeam.

I say þe, broder Salamon, tel in þi talkyng,
Furst of þe frerys þus meue þou may,
Of here preuelache and of here prayrys and here prechyng,
And of here clerge and clannes and onest aray.
Ȝif þou say not þe soþ, þen may won say
Þat þou art leud and vnlerd and letter canste þou non;
Ȝif þou touche þe treuþ, truly þou hem pray,
Fore to holde þe excusid euereche mon,
Ȝif hit be here wyle.
I hold hit bot a leude þyng
Fore to make a lesyng;
To God hit his displesyng,
Ouþer loud or style.

Vos amici mei estis si feceritis quae precepio vobis.

Þe furst founders of þe freres and of þe iiij oordyrs
Weron iiij be[rn]es i-blest of oure Saueour, I say,
And betokyn here bokys and baggus to be beggers,
To preche þe pepul apert þe Prince of heuen to pay,

To borou, to beg, to put schame boþe away,
To by and to bylde with here beggyng,
And pray fore here good-doerys boþ nyȝt and day
Þat sendus ham here sustynans and here leuyng
Here in þis worlde.
Nyȝt and day contynualy
Fore hom þai prayn spesealy,
In matyns, messe, and memore,
To here louely Lord.

Petite et accipietis.

Who-so-euer sparys fore to speke, sparys for to spede,
And he þat spekys and spedys, noȝt, he spellys þe wynd;
I do ȝoue clene out of dout and dredles out of drede,
Better is to speke and sped þen hold hit in mynd,
Fore mone hanne mone maners, and mone beþ vnkynd,
Vnclene in here consyans because of couetyse.
Spek and haue þe hete, seche and þou schalt fynd,
Ellys may þou fal in myschif and fare al amysse;
Nyk not þis with nay.
Assay þi frynd or þou haue nede
And of his answere take good hede;
Þou getyst no good withoutyn drede
Bot ȝif þou byd or pray.

Querite et invenietis.

Ȝif ȝe wyle ȝef ham of ȝour good without beggyng,
Þai wold nowþer begge ne borou, þus dare I lay,
And fynd hem here houshold and here housyng,
Nouþer by ne byld; I red ȝe asay.

Behold, syrus, apon here chyrche, now I ȝou pray,
Apon here bellys, on here bokys, and here byldyng,
Apon here prechyng, her praye[r]s her reuerent aray;
Þai pase ale oþer men in here gouer[n]yng,
I whot hit is no nay.
Þai play not þe fole;
Contenualy þai gon to scole;
Lordys worchip han þai wole,
And poton folys away.

Dignus est mercenareus mercede sua. Ego autem mendicus sum et pauper.

Sum men sayn þese sele frerys þai han no consyans,
A mon to take vij salerys, x trentale, ȝif þai may,
And cast ham in a hogpoch to-gedur fore to daunce;
Hit ys no ferly þaȝ þe folke in hom þai han no fay;
I lekyn ham to Iudas þat Crist he con betray;
Because of his couetyse he sold his soferayn,
So to begyle þe sele pepul and greue God, weleaway!
Redele þai ben rauenourys and non relegyous men,
Þat schal han reuful sore.
Hit is aȝayns Godys ordenans
To couet more þen ȝoure sustynans;
Þis makys debat and dystans,
And mend ȝou, syrus, herefore.

Ego autem mendicus sum et pauper.

Soþly hit is wel be-set at my wetyng
Þe grace and þe goodnes þat men done hem here;
Hit preuys wel apert by here leuyng
To pot hom to pouert in soche a manere,
Ȝet þai makyn mone men ful mekusly chere

With þe grace and þe goodys þat God here hom sende;
Wysele and wytle þe leud þai wyle lere
Here mys and here mysdedis her to amende;
Why schuld men be wroþ,
Seþyn God sendys hom of His sond,
Withoutyn ploȝ or londe,
Ore salere of kouenande,
Mete and drenke and cloþ.

Fratres, nolumus vos ignorare veretatem.

I wyl not fauer ȝoue, frerys, with no flateryng;
Ȝe were better vnborne þen fore to be to bolde;
Passe not ȝoure preuelege because of couetyng,
Fore þis tale treule apon ȝoue hit is told,
Of soche þat knouen hom gulte aȝayns me þai wold,
And I repreue no presthod bot here leud leuyng;
Fore to stond at a stake, bren þer Y wolde
Ȝif Y say falsle at my wyttyng.
Blynd as Y am,
To me hit were a slawnder
To lye apon my broder;
I wold ham fayn forþer,
Bot sonn gelo cujuscam.

Attendete a falsis prophetis.

Beþ fayþful, ȝe frerys, in ȝour fay, let be ȝour flateryng;
Preche þe pepul pryncypaly þe Prince of heuen to pay;
Pil not þe pore pepule with ȝour prechyng,
Bot begge at abundand and at ryche aray.
Ȝe may mete mone men [wen] ȝe walkyn be þe way,
Þat bene nede and nedful and woful-begoon,
Þat aue a peny in here purse; þaȝ ȝe beg and pray,
Aȝayns xx of ȝours, Y trou, þai haue not hone;

Þis is no charyte.
Fore to beg at þe pore,
Ȝe schuld hauen here socoure
Of þat ȝe potyn in tresoure,
On ham haue pete.

Estote micerecordes sicut Pater vester miserecors est.

Þus ȝe techyn truly to ale maner men
Fore to part with þe pore, on ham haue pete;
As ȝe counsel oþer, Y counsel ȝou þen,
To solans ham, to socour ham in here fyrmete,
Ellys, lele, hit is lyke ȝe haue no charete.
Ȝe schul schew good ensampyl to þe soule hele;
Men waytyn apon ȝour werkys, Y tele ȝou wytterly;
As ȝe techen oþer to do, ȝe don neuer a dele.
Beþ seche as ȝe seme;
A prechur schuld lyue parfytly
And do as he techys truly,
Ellys hit is ypocresy;
Ȝour dedus þai doþ ȝou deme.

Nullum malum pro malo reddentes.

He þat wyl not forþer, þese frerus wyllun hom no harme;
Wyl þai louen her Lord God, þai mow not fare amys.
Þenk on þe leyþ lazar was borne into Abraamus barme;
With ys pouert and his payne he boȝt hym heuen blys;
Fore þe ryche mon hym refusid, he faryþ al amys,
And lyus law with Lucefyr, leȝyst in hele.
Parte with þese pore frerus, ȝour Fader wyle hit his,
Last þe case on ȝoue fal þat on hym befelle;
Ȝe schuld fynde hit fore þe best.
Do as þou woldus me dud be þe;
Apon þi broder þou haue pete;
Depart with hym and he with þe,
Þen be þai boþ y-blest.

Ingnorancia non excusat saserdotem.

Mone men of hole cherche þai ben ale to lewd;
I lekyn ham to a bred is pynud in a cage;
When he haþ shertly hymselfe ale be-scherewd,
Þen he begynys to daunse, to harpe, and to rage,
For he is leud and vnderstond not his oune langwage,
Þer-fore he settys þer-by bot a lytyl prise,
Fore he lerd hit in his ȝouþe and in his ȝenge age,
And castis hym neuer to lerne more al att here oune deuyse;
I say ȝou fore why.
Þus leud men þai can say,
He is an honest prest in good faye,
Ȝif his goune be pynchit gay,
He getis a salary.

Legere et non intellegere est quasi nec legere.

Now ȝif a pore mon set hys son to Oxford to scole,
Boþ þe fader and þe moder hynderyd þay schal be;
And ȝif þer falle a benefyse, hit schal be ȝif a fole,
To a clerke of a kecyhn ore into þe chauncere;
Þis makys þe worchip of clerkys wrong fore to wry,
Seþ sekeler men schul haue mon soulys in kepyng,
And pytton here personache to ferme to a bayle,
And caston doune here howsold and here housyng,
Here paryschun dystroy.
Clerkys þat han cunyng
Schuld haue monys soule in kepyng,
Bot þai mai get no vaunsyng
Without symony.

Qui intrat in ouile nisi per hostium, ille fur est et latro.

Symony is a sun forbedun be þe laue,
Hyly in holy cherche no mon hit vse,
And fro þat dredful dede ȝe schul ȝou withdraw,
Ellus þe lauys of God ȝe doþ not bot dyspyse.
Curatis þat beþ vnkunyng, hem þe schuld refuse,
And aspy pore preuyd clerkys among þe clergy,
And ȝif hem awaunsment and a benefyse
To saue synful souly[s] with here felecete;
Goddys wyl hit ys.
Curatus resident þai schul be,
And ald houshold oponly,
And part with þe pore þat beþ nede,
And mend þat ȝe do mys.

In tres partes diuidite rerum ecclesie substanciam.

Þe furst princypale parte lungus to ȝour leuyng;
Þe ij part to hole cherche to hold his honeste;
Þe iij part to ȝour parechyngs þat ale to ȝoue bryng,
To hom þat faylun þe fode and fallun in pouerte.
Þus þe goodys of hole cherch schuld be spend specyaly;
Boþ ȝour meryt and ȝour mede in heuen schul ȝe haue.
Al Cristyn men on Crist wold þai crye,
Fore þe bode and þe soule boþe do ȝe saue
Here in þis word;
Þat susteyne ham boþ nyȝt and day,
And techyn to heuen þe rede way,
Pryncepal fore ȝoue þai wold pray
To here gracious Lord.

Aprehendite disciplinam, ne quando nascatur.

Trule, I trow, þis rewme where chamyd and chent
Nere þe foreþeryng of þe frerys and here prechyng,
Fore þe seculars prestis take non entent
Bot to here leudnes and her lust and here lykyng;

Þai beþ noþyng couetese to lerne no conyng,
Þe laus of here Lord God to know and to ken;
Hit demys wele be here dedys þay haue no louyng
Nowþer to God, ne goodnes, ne non to odyr men;
Þis is a gret pete.
Here hole order when þat þai toke,
Þai where exampnyd apon a boke,
Godys lauys to lerne and to loke,
And kepe charyte.

Accipite jugum castitatis.

Clerkys were choson to be chast and kepe charyte,
With alle here wyt and here wyle and here worchyng,
And be a clene calender þe leud men on to se,
And not to stere stryf and wraþ fore here couetyng.
Hit is a schenchyp and a schame and a sclawnderyng
Aȝayns þe order of hole cherch and Goddys ordenawns,
Prestis fore to couet ale, þe frerys to han noþyng;
Þis dole is vndeule dalt, hit makeþ dystans,
And al þai beþ breder.
And seþen þai seruen won Lord,
Þai schuld neuer be at dyscord,
Nouþer in ded nor in word,
Bot ychon part with oþyr.

Erat illis omnia communia.

In actibus apostolorum þer may ȝe rede
Hou þe goodys of hole cherche sumtyme were i-sempde;
Vche postyl had his part ryȝt as he had nede;
Þai cast hit al in comyn þe goodys þat God hym sende.

Curst couetyse, foresoþ, þe clerge haþ y-blynd,
Þat schuld be lanterns lyȝt in hole cherche to bren,
And chasud away charyte, þer-fore þai wyl be chent,
And turne hemself fro þe treuþ and marrun oþer men;
More arme is.
Þai pottyn hamselfe in gret parel,
Fore treuly þe pepul þai schuld tele,
And warne ham of þe payns of hele,
And mend þat þai do mys.

Ecce quam bonum et quam iocundum.
Take tent to þis tyxt, prestis, I ȝou pray,
Habitare semper fratres in vnum,
Þus Dauit in þe sauter soþle con he say.
Crist of his curtesse to curatis tok his kay,
Mon soul with mekenes to haue in kepyng,
With þe treuþ of here toung to teche hem þe way,
Þroȝ þe vij sacrementis here soule to blis bryng.
God grantyþ hem His pouere
To asoyle þat wyl repent,
And schryue hem clene with good entent,
And do here penans verament,
Wyle þat þai ben here.

Ego sum pastor bonus.

Þe ground of al goodnes curatis schuld be þe cause,
And knyt hem kyndly to-geder al þe clerge,
And leue here leudnes and here lust and lern Godys laues,
With hare conyng and clannes dedle synnus dystry,
Boþ þe flesche and þe fynd, false couetys, defye,
With merce and with mekenes þe treuþ for to teche,
Þe comawndmentis of Crist to kepe kyndly;
To-fore þe pepul apart þus schuld he preche,

Fore ȝe ben schepardys ale one.
Þen Crist to Peter what sayd he?
‘My keyis I betake to þe;
Kepe my schepe fore loue of me,
Þat þai peresche neuer on.’

Þe prophecy of þe prophetus ale nowe hit doþ apere
Þat sumtyme was sayd be þe clergy,
Þat leud men þe laue of God þat schuld loue and lere,
Fore curatis fore here couetyse wold count noȝt þer-by,
Bot to talke of here teyþys, Y tel ȝou treuly;
And ȝif þe secular say a soþ anon þai bene e-schent,
And lyen apon þe leud men and sayn hit is lollere;
Þus þe pepul and þe prestis beþ of one asent;
Þai dare no noder do,
Fore dred of þe clerge
Wold dampnen hem vnlaufully
To preche apon þe pelere,
And bren hem after too.

Ve vobis qui dicitis malum bonum et bonum malum.

Lef þou me, a loller his dedis þai wyl hym deme,
Ȝif he withdraue his deutes fro hole cherche away,
And wyl not worchip þe cros, on hym take good eme,
And here his matyns and his masse apon þe haleday,
And beleuys not in þe sacrement, þat hit is God veray,
And wyl not schryue him to a prest on what deþ he dye,
And settis noȝt be þe sacrementus, soþly to say,
Take him fore a loller, Y tel ȝou treuly,
And false in his fay.
Deme hym after his saw;
Bot he wyl hym withdraw,
Neuer fore hym pray.

Corripite inquietos quod nolunt intell[ig]ere vt bene facerent.

Þaȝ þe pepyl be neuer so leud in here leuyng,
And brekun þe comawndementis of Crist, and wykud werk worch,
Þay may go mery ale þe ȝere for ane repreuy[n]g,
Ouþer of parsun, or of prest, or men of hole cherche;
Bot ȝif þai fayle slus or schof, anon þer-with þai groche;
Comawnd in Cristis name here teþyng to hem bryng,
Ellis a letter of sentens þai wyle on hem sorche;
Hit cemys þat to þe cele soule þai haue no louyng;
Þus may ȝe wel knowe.
Y pray, serys, þat ȝe aspye
Houe contenuys lechore;
Haue he cordit with þe constere,
Vola verede voo.

Videte, rectores ecclesie, ne propter lucrum dampnatis animas Christian[as].

Alas þat þes offecers of hole cherchis laue
Lettyþ þese leud men lye in here syn,
Þat dredun noþyng here domus hem to withdrawe,
Fore Mede þe maydyn mantens hem þer-in,
Because of ser Couetys is next of here kyn,
May do with mon of hole cherche holle his entent;
Þe wyf and þe hosbond he mai part a-twyn,
Þaȝ þai be boundon togeder be þe sacrement,

He wyle dysseuer hem two
And ȝet þe gospel hom dos lere,
Þat God juins to-geder y-fere,
Þer is no mon þat haþ pouere
Þat sacrement vndoo.

Episcopus debet esse sine crimene, et corrigere rectores ecclesie. Sicut vult respondere coram summo Iudice.

Þus oure blessud byschop, dene offecialle,
Sofers þes sekelers in here syȝt to sun opynly,
Þaȝ þai to here constri, hom to here court calle,
Þai mercyn hem with mone and med preuely;
Þai schuld put hom to prayers and to penans opunly,
Fore opun syn opun penans, þis is Godys laue.
Ȝif ȝe wyl serche þe soþ, here is remede;
Þen wold þai dred ȝour domys and sone hom withdraw,
And kepe Godys laus.
Curatis þe soþ þai dar not say
Fore þai be worse leuers þen þai
And leuen in syn fro day to day,
So þai beþ þe cause.

Inclina cor meum, Deus, in testimonia tua et non in auariciam.

Ȝe curatis, fore ȝour couetys ȝe castun in þe new fayre
Þe churches þat ȝe byn chosun to be Godus ordenauns,
And callun hit permetacion cuntreys about to kayre,
Bot ȝif ȝe han pluralytis hit is not plesans.
I preue þe pope principaly ys worþy to haue penaunce
Þat grauntus ane seche grace because of couetyng;
Hit dous dysese in hole cherch and makys bot dystauns,
A mon to haue iiij benefyse anoder no lyuyng;
Þis is not Godys wyle.
Þe furst benefyce ȝe ben bound to,
Ȝe schuld not desyre to go þer-fro,
And tak a leuyng and no mo
Lest ȝe ȝour soulis spyle.

Nemo potest duobus dominis seruire.

Ȝe schul make no marketys ne no marchandyse,
Nouþer for to by ne sel for lucur, I say;
Hit chasis away charyte, ȝour couetyse,
Alle ȝour goostly grace hit wypis clene away.
Who may serue two lordis and boþe to here pay,
Þat is, þis wyckyd word and God to plesyng?
Ȝi[f] ȝe serue not ȝour God, þe fynd wyl ȝou fray
When ȝe bun callud to ȝour countys and to ȝour rekeny[n]g,
Þat most ȝe nede.
Ȝif ȝe haue seruyd þe worlde
And be vntreue to ȝour Lorde,
Þe laue wyle ȝoue rewarde
Deþ to ȝour ende.

Hoc quocienscunque feceritis, in mei memoriam faciatis: qui vero propter lucrum quodlibet temporale officium dominicum presumit celebrare prossus quidem similis proditore Jude qui Christum Judeis propter denarios XXXta, non dubitauit vendere. Qui ergo hoc modo accedit ad corpus dominicum indigne vere sibi id ipsum accipit et sanguinem dominicum non ad salutem sed ad judicium et juste. Nullus itaque propter lucrum hoc agat ne Iude proditore socijs in penis fiat.

A foule defaute fayþfully I fynd in holy cherche,
Prestis to syng twyse a day fore here leucur,
Ȝif þai schuld fore Cristis sake, anon þen þay groche,
And þus þai sellyn here souerayn and here saueour;
I lekyn hem to Iudas þat was a traytoure,
Because of his couetyse his soueren he solde.
Boldle þe byschop is to blame þat doþ ham fauour,
Fore þis tale treuly on hem hit is tolde;

Þis is a gret schame.
And ȝet þe laue hit doþ hem lere
Þai schuld syng bot twyse a ȝere,
At Crystymas and Astere,
Ellys þai beþ to blame.

Sicut aqua extinguit ignem, ita elemosina extinguit peccatum.

Prestis, ȝe schul preue ȝourselfe and princypale in dede;
Euer depart with þe pore, on hem haue pete;
Cownsel ham and cumford ham and cloþ hem at here nede,
In presun and in pouerte and infyrmety;
Þus ȝe prechyn þe pepul in þe pylpit opynle
Þe vij werkys of merce mekele to fulfyl,
And to reassayue here reward, remissyon redele
At þe dredful dai of dome, fore þis is Godis wyle,
Ore ellus schul þai rew.
As ȝe techon oþer to do,
Do ȝourselue also,
Ore ellis men wyl part ȝoue fro,
And say ȝe bene vntrew.

De confescione et de sacramento altaris. Subiecti estote omni humane creature propter dominum.

I counsel ȝoue, al Cristun men, and comawnd in Cristis name,
Þat ȝe obey ȝour curatis þat ȝe ben boundon to;
Ȝif one be fallyn be frelte in ane febel fame,
God graunt hem of His grace no more so to do;
And beþ in ful charyte with frynd and with foo,
Fore þat is þe grownd of al goodnes with contricion,
And serue þat Lord of al lordys. Where bene ane mo
Þat may soyle ȝoue of ȝour sunne and graunt ȝou remyssyon?
In fayþ, no mo bot Hee;
Of al lordis be He blest;
He wold no mon where e-lost
Þat wyl in His merce trust,
And in His benyngnete.

Ȝif ȝour curatis comaund ȝou to kepe Cristis lawus,
Þen do aftyr here doctrine and ȝe bene out of drede,
Fore, serys, þai may saue ȝour soule þroȝ here soþ saus,
Þen in heuen schale ȝe haue ȝour meryd and ȝour mede;
Bot do not as þai don, þer-of take good hede,
Bot ȝif þai schowe ȝoue good ensampil to þe soule hele,
Fore God in þe Gospel þus He forebed,
After here werkus worche ȝe neuer a dele,
Ellus schul ȝe reue;
Fore as þai techyn ȝou to do,
Bot ȝif þai don hamselue also,
Ellus Y rede ȝe gon hem fro,
And say þay bene vntreu.

Quodcumque ligaueris super terram.

Fore God haþ graunt of His grace to curatis His pouere,
Þaȝ þai ben synful men to asoyle ȝoue of ȝour synne
Þorȝ vertu of þe sacremente, soþle I ȝowe enseure;
No mon mese in þis matere ȝif he wyl sauyd bene.
Euere prest he haþ pouere to asoyle ȝou þen,
And to here confession in ȝour nesescyte,
Ȝif to ȝour curatis ȝe mai not cum þat beþ ȝour soueren,
Þai may do ȝoue ryȝtus, Y tell ȝoue treuly.
Þai haue þis pouere,
To asoyle þat wyl repent,
And schryue ham clene with good entent,
Be vertu of þe sacrement,
Boþ prest and frere.

Nota secundum decretalis et constitucionis ecclesie quod omnis homo vtrivsque sexus tenetur confitere suo proprio saserdoti semel in anno ad minus, nisi habeat licenciam vel dispensacionem, vel preuelegium a superiori.

Bot ȝe most come to ȝour curaturus be þe comen laue,
And schryue ȝoue soþely of ȝour synne at þe lest enns a ȝere;
Ȝe stonden in doute and in dred ȝif ȝe ȝou withdraw
Without lysens or leue ouþer to prest or frere;

Þai most ȝour counsel knoue þat schal ȝoue led and lere,
Þat haue þe charche of ȝoure soule in here kepyng;
Ȝe byþ princypaly vnder here pouere;
Go not vngoodly away without here wytyng,
And know ȝour entent.
Þai mai not answere fre ȝoue
Ȝour consel bot þai know;
Þai beþ excusid be þe laue,
And ȝe schul be schent.

Quicumque enim manducauerit vel biberit calecem Domini indigne.

Ȝif þe prest vnworþele presume to syng his mas,
Serus, Y say þe sacrement enpayrd hit may not be,
Bot hes owne deþ and his dome he ressayus, alas,
Ȝif in his consians he knaw þat he be gulte;
Þaȝ he syng and say his mas þe prest vnworþele,
Boþ ȝour meret and ȝour mede in heuen ȝe schul haue,
Fore God haþ grauntyd of His grace be His aunctorete,
Be he neuer so synful, ȝoure soulys may he saue;
Haue þis in þoȝt.
Þe masse is of so hye degre
Apayryd, forsoþ, hit mai not be,
Ne no mon mend hit may,
Þer-on doctours han soȝt.

Nichil imposebele apud Deum.

Take ensampil by þe sunne ȝe syne here with syȝt.
Wha may depreue hym of his pouere and let his lyȝtyng,
Þat schenus apon a synful man as wele as on a ryȝt,
Alse wele on fouele as on fayre without defouteryng,
Alse wel apon a knaue as apon a kyng?
A sad saumpil foresoþ her may ȝe se;
Hit is Godys word and His werke and His worchyng,
Þe sacrement of þe autere defoulyd mai not be,

I do ȝoue out of drede.
His Godhed may not be sayne
With no fleschle eyne,
Bot in þe sacrement ȝe may hit sene
In fegure and fourme of bred.

I se soþle in þe sune knyt iij maner kynde,
His clerte and his clerenes what clerke can declare,
Behold þe hete in þi hert and haue hit in mynd,
Þe conselacion and þe comford, þai iij what þai are;
Fore al þat leuys in þis lond ful euyl schul hit fare
Nere þat gloreus gleme þat fro þe heuen glydis;
He þat seruyþ not þat souerayn his hert may be ful sare,
Þat lenus of his loue seche a lyȝt þat ale þis word gladis
In euerych a place.
A synful mon haue þis in mynde,
To þat Lord be not vnkynde,
Fore he may boþ louse and bynde,
Graunt merce and grace.

I declare þe clerte to þe Fader of myȝtis most,
Þe heete hyle þer-of to His onle Sunne,
Þe consolacion and Þe comford to þe Hole Gost,
Kyndly y-knyt to-geder without deuesioun;
Þe Fader, þe Son, þe Hole Gost, al þai beþ bot hone,
Þre persons preuyd in þe Trenete,
Þat neuer had begynyng, ende haue þai none,
Þat now is, and euer was, and euer schal be,
Lord of myȝtys most.
Þus þe Fader oure lyȝt vs broȝt;
With þe hete of His blod His Son vs boȝt;
Consolacion and cumford þus hane þai wroȝt
Þroȝ þe grace of þe Hole Gost.

Fides non habet meretum.

Ryȝt as ȝe se all þis world is glorefyd with one sunne,
Serrs, so is mons soule with þe sacrement;
Als mone men at a mas as ȝe acount con,
Vche person has his part þat is þer present;
And ale hit is bot hone Good, beleue þis verament,
Þat is sacyrd on þe autere betwen þe prestis honde,
Þat schal ȝou deme at domysday at His iugement,
After ȝour dedis dredles þus schul ȝe vnderstonde.
Þaȝ ȝe hane done amys,
Ȝif fore ȝour synnus ȝe be sore,
Þen ȝe resseyuen hem worþele,
And schul haue grace and mercy
And ioy in heuen bliss.

Estote fortes in bello.

Dredles vche dedly sunne Y declare a wounde,
Þat when þe fynd haþ foȝt with ȝoue and haþ þe maystre,
Þen most ȝe seche a surgoun ȝif ȝe wyl be saue and sound,
Þat con soþle serche ȝour sore and make ȝoue hole.
Confession and contresion þi salue schal hit be,
Þe penans of þi penetawnsere þi satisfaccion;
Þen feȝtust with þe fynd aȝayne and hast þe maystre,
And dost hym schenchip and schame, fore euer confucyon,
Þi soule fore to saue.
Þus þi wondis helyd schul be
With gret worchip to þe;
Because of þi victore,
Reward schalt þou haue.

Miserere mei, Deus, quia infirmus sum.

I lekyn vche a synful soule to a seke mon
Þat is y-schakyd and schent with þe aksis;
Þer is no dayntet e-dyȝt þat pay hym þai con,
Bot al þat is aȝayns hym þat wyl hym pleese;
So hit farus by a mon þat ys recheles,
Þat is seke in his soule, þe soþ he nel not here,
Bot wrys away fro Godys word to his wyckydnes;
Here may ȝe know kyndle ȝif ȝour consians be clere,
Þe soþ verament.
Cristyn men ȝif þat ȝe be,
Þen loke ȝe done cristynle,
Ellus ȝe berun þat nome in veyne, treuly;
Ȝe wyl be shamed and y-shent.

I counsel ale ȝoue, ale curators, þat wysele ȝou wayt,
Þat han þe cure of mons soule in ȝoure kepyng,
Engoyne ȝe not to ȝeesy penans, ne to strayt alegat,
Lest ȝe slene boþ bode and soule with ȝoure ponyschyng;
Fore better is a pater noster with repentyng
To send hem to þe merce of God to purgatore,
Fore Crist enioynd no noþer penans in His leuyng,
Bot vade in pace, amplius noly peccare.
Fore as possebel hit were
Here with a tere of þyn nye
To qwenche þe foyre of purgatore,
As al þe water in þe se,
To qwench a blase of foyre.

Ȝe þat be chosun to ben chif and sittyng in Cristis place,
Ȝe most haue treuþ and ryȝtwysnes in ȝour demyng;
Þen let treuþ dele to hym boþ merce and grace,
And ryȝtwysnes, rest, pes, fore dred of perechyng;

Þese iiij sistyrs made acord betwene heuen Kyng
And manse soule þat was foriuggyd to damnacion,
Fore pes aȝayns ryȝtwysnesche was euer pletyng,
Hwyle merce with his mekenes turrne[s] tre[u]þ to remyssioun.
Here-with God plesid was,
And send doune His Son from heuen an hye
To leȝt in þe vergyn, mayde Mary,
In herþ to be boren of here body,
To graunt merce and grace.

Qui præmunitur non falletur.

I hold hym wyse þat wyl be ware whan he has warnyng,
Haue þis mater in ȝour hert and hoolde hit in mynd,
Bot neuer hone whyl be ware in here leuyng,
Bot al blustyrne furþ vnblest as bayard þe blynd.
Aȝayns þe goodnes of God men bene vnkynde,
F[r]erys fekul and freel and false in here fay;
Amonke þe men of hole cherche feu þer I fynd
Þat worchyn wysly hemselfe to wyse men þe way;
Þis is a carful case.
To curatis sayþ Saynt Gregore,
Þat þai schal answere trewle
Fore mon soul specyale
To-fore Goddis face.

Verbi gratia, qui sicut dicit papa episcopo, episcopus rectoribus eclesie qui resipiunt potestatem ligandi atque soluendi et curam animarum, fratres in Christo, habet, trado vobis curam animarum parachanorum vestrorum vt respondiatis pro me et pro nobis coram summo Iudice in die iudicii.

I meue þis mater mekele fore murmur of men,
Where-fore I pray ȝou spesyaly þat ȝe wyl aspye
At clerkus þat hane conyng þat can þis know and ken,
Houe þus treuþ is he touchid, where-fore and hwy;

I red ȝe rede hit aryȝt, remembyr ȝou redle,
Fore þe loue of our Lord nouþer laȝ ne gren;
As God of my mysdedis he haue merce,
I meue þis to amend me and ale oþer men,
My God to plese and pay.
No mon deney þis
Ȝif þat he þynke to haue blys;
Betwene prestis and frerys y-wys
I make þis loue day.

Misericordia et veretas obbeauerunt; sibi pax et iustecia osculati sunt.

Þus sayþ David foresoþ in þe sautere,
And verefyus in a uerse þe loue of our Lord:
Misericordia et verytas han þai met e-fere
þat long tyme before had bene at dyscord;
Þer was fayþfole made a feneal corde,
Fore iusticia et pax mad ham to kus,
Fro þat day furþ to fulfyl þat forward,
Neuer þat mater to haue in mynd to-fore was amys,
So I ȝou pray,
Fore Godis wyl forsoþ hit is,
Þat ȝe amend ȝe han do mys,
And hochon oþer here ȝe cusse,
For euer and for ay.

Cuius finis bonum ipsum totum bonum.

Þus Salamon haþ sayd þe soþ verement,
As Marcol, þe more fole, warned hym I wene,
Bot ȝif þis draȝt be draun wel, þai goun wil be schent,
And schal turne treule to turment and to tene;

Haue mynd on þis mater, ȝe wot what I mene,
Bluster not furþ vnblest as Bayard þe blynd,
Bot cal aȝayne charyte with consians clene,
And wry not fro Godis word as þe wroþ wynd,
Herkyns hit as þe hynd.
Apon ȝour leuyng take good eme,
And beþ seche as ȝe schul seme,
Fore be ȝour dedis men wyl ȝou deme.
Here I make an end.

Si veretatem dico quare non creditis mihi qui ex Deo est, verba Dei audit ideo non auditis qui ex Deo non estis.

Fore I haue towchid þe treuþ I trow I schal be schent,
And said sadle þe soþ without flateryng;
Hald me fore no parte þat beþ here present;
I haue no lykyng ne lust to make no lesyng,
Fore fauel with his fayre wordis and his flateryng,
He wyl preche þe pepul apert hem for to pay;
I nel not wraþ my God at my wetyng,
As God haue merce on me, syr Ion Audlay,
At my most ned.
I reche neuer who hit here,
Weder prest or frere,
For at a fole ȝe ma[y] lere,
Ȝif ȝe wil take hede.

3

[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
To þi neȝbour fore loue of me,
To make debate ny dyscorde,
And þou dust me more cumford,
Þen þaȝ þou wentust barefote in þe strete,
For loue of me þat ys þi Lorde,
Þat stremus of blood folewed þi fete.

I sai for wi:
A wekid worde a mon may schame,
To lese his godes and hys good name;
Whoso falsly duþ men fame
Beþ curse[d] tr[u]ly.

Þe vij vertu ys good conselyng;
Entyse not þi neȝbour to wekednes,
Ny say no worde to hym ni sklanderyng,
But consel hym to al goodenes.
And þis þou myȝt me more plese
Þen þaȝ þou stydest ones a day,
Into heuen þi sowle to sese,
Into þat ioy þat lastus ay,
Withowten drede.
For bi þi goodenes and þi consele
Þou may pytte þi neȝbour fro gret perele,
And saue hym fro þe peynes of hele,
And encrese þi mede.

Þe viij vertu is hole prayere;
Dyssyre and aske of me ryȝtwesly;
Þiselfe þou schalt be messangere,
And do þi message dewoutly,
And þou plesust me more speciali,
Þen þaȝ my moder and sayntis alle
Praydyn in heuen on hy fore þe,
For þou ast fre choyse to ryse or falle,
Boþ þou may.
Ȝif þou fall, aryse anon,
And call to me with contricion,
Þen my moder and sayntis vchon
Wil fore þe pray.

Þe ix vertu is þou schalt only
Loue me in hert ouer al þyng,
Þen gold, or seluer, or lond, or fee,
Or wyf, or child, or wordle þyng;
And þou dost me þen more plesyng,
Þen þaȝ þou styedust vpon hyȝ pelere
Folle of rayssors kene stekyng,
Fore me loue þi flesche to tere;
Bileue wyl þis.
Loue plesis me ouer al þyng,
Fore charete with hym is euer dwellyng;
Mon soule to ioy hit doþ hit bryng
Into my blis.

Þese ix vertus son soþ þou schalt fynd.
Lerne þis lesson now I þe pray;
To God and mon loke þou be kynd,
And make amendis wyle þou may,
For to heuen þer ys noon oder way.
Ȝyf þou wolt haue saluasyon,
Me þou most nede plese and pay,
Or ellus haue damnacyon;
Hit ys for þe best.
Do as þou woldust me dud by þe,
Vcheon of oder ȝe haue pyte,
And leues in loue, in charyte,
Þen be ȝe blest.

Sum men þer ben þat stelon heuen
With penans, prayers, and pouerte,
And sum goon to hele ful euen
For lust and lykyng of here b[o]dy.
Here twey wayes, my sone, þer be;
Þou hast fre choyse wedur to passe;
Chese þe better, Y consel þe,
Lest þou syng þe sung alasse,

For euer and ay.
I rede þou serue heuen Kyng;
For any lust or lykyng
Haue mynde apon þi endyng,
And dredeful domusday.

Meruel ȝe not of þis makyng;
I me excuse, hit ys not Y;
Hit ys Goddus worde and His techyng
Þat He taȝt a salutary,
For Y kowþe neuer but hye foly.
God haþ me chastest for my leuyng;
I þonk my God, my grace, trewly,
Of His gracyouse visetyng,
Ellus were Y lore.
Euer þat Lorde be He blest;
Al þat He duþ ys for þe best,
Ellus were ȝe lyke to be lost,
And better vnbore.

Vpon ȝour lyfe take good eme;
Bewar lest God þat ȝe offende;
As He fyndes ȝow He wil ȝou deme,
Owþer be saued or ellus be schent.
For soden deþ loke ȝe amende,
And settus no trist where noon ys,
For al ys good þat haþ good ende,
When ȝe han mended ȝe han do mys,
Þis ys no nay.
Y made þis wit good entent,
In hope þe raþer ȝe wolde repent.
Prayes for me þat beþ present;
My name hyt ys þe blynde Awdelay.

Explicit de salutare.

4

De effusione sanguinis Christi in remissione peccatorum.

An holy prayer here bygynnes,
In remedy seue[n] dedly synnes.
Vij blodes Crist He bled,
Þe fyrst in His circumsycyoun,
Þe secund in hole oresown,
Þe deþ when þat He dred.

Þe þred in His flagellacion,
Þe fourþ in His coronacion,
Þe fyfþ in His hondis also,
Þe vj in His hole fete,
Þe vij blood ran out of His hert wete,
To wasche vs out of our wo.

With mone an oþer enstrement,
He suffyrd tene and turmentyng
In His monheed.
In tyme of His passion,
Here fore oure redemcion,
His blesful blod He bled.

O Ihesu fore þe blod þou bledyst,
And in þe furst tyme þou cheddust
In þi circumcecion,
Þat I haue synnyd in lechore,
Þat stynkyng syn, foreȝif þou me,
And my delectacion.

O Ihesu at þe mount of Olefete,
Þere blod and water þou con swete,
To þi Fader when þou dydist pray.
So, Fader, ȝif þi wyl hit be,
Put enuy away fro me,
And temtacions nyȝt and day.

O Ihesu, þi payns were ful strong,
When þe skorgis boþ scharp and long,
Mad þi body to bled.
To þe, Lord, merce I cry,
Þou kepe me out of glotone,
And helpe me at my ned.

O Ihesu, fore þi scharp croune,
Þat mad þe blod to ren adoune
About þi fayre face,
Þer proud in hert I haue be,
Lord, vnbuxum to þe,
Grawnt merce and grace.

O Ihesu, as I vnderstond,
Þou ched blod at boþ þi hond
When þai were naylid.
Þou cast me out of couetyse,
And graunt me grace sone to aryse,
Of syn when I am soyled.

O Ihesu, þou bledyst more blod
Wen þou wast nayld apon þe rood
Þroȝ þi fete with naylis.
Let me neuer in slouþ stynke,
Bot grawnt me grace fore to swynke
Þyng me avaylis.

O Ihesu, blessid be þi bones,
Fore blod and water þou chedist at ones
Out of þi pressious hert.
Out of wraþ kepe þou me,
And grawnd me loue and charyte,
Fore þi wondis smert.

O Ihesu, for þe peler st[ro]ng,
Þi bodi was bound þer-to with wrong,
Y-buffet and y-blend,
Þat hole cherche as bound me to,
Grawnt me grace þat fore to do,
Lest I be chamyd and schent.

O Ihesu, fore þi blesful face
Þou betoke Veroneca bi grace
Vpon here sudare,
Þat face be me consolacion,
And to þe fynd confusion,
Þat day when I schal dye.

O Ihesu, fore þi hole cros
Þi body sprad þer-on was,
Fore our syn sake,
Þat cros be my proteccion
Aȝayns my nenmys euerychon,
Weder I slepe or wake.

O Ihesu, fore þi naylis þre
Þat persid þe to þe rod tre
Y-dreuyn with gret distres,
Þou grawnt me repentawns,
Fore my syns to do penans,
My payns to relesse.

O Ihesu, fore þe vessel also
Þat aysel and gal þai broȝt þe to,
Þat drenke hit was vnsete;
Þat I haue synd in gloteney,
Þat stynkyng syn, foreȝif þou me,
Þat me haþ þoȝt ful swete.

O Ihesu, fore þe charp spere
Þat þroȝ þyn hert Longyus can bere,
Þat was a blynd knyȝt;
Þou perse me hert with co[n]tricion
Fore þe syns I haue e-done,
As þou ȝif him his syȝt.

O Ihesu, fore þe louele ladder,
And fore þe tongis, and fore hamyr
Þat laust þe fro þe tre,
Þou graunt me contemplacion,
To þong þe fore þi passion,
Þat þou soferest fore me.

O Ihesu, as Iosep of Haramaþe
Beryd þe ful onestle
In his monument,
Fore þi gloryous resurexion,
And þi maruelis assencion,
Þou grawnt me remyssion
To-fore þi iugement.

In worchip of þi hole passion
And of my syns remyssion,
XV pater noster Y say,
And xv aues to our Lady,
Fore heo is þe wel of al pyte,
Þat heo wil fore me pray.

He þat says þis prayere
Euere day in þe ȝere,
He worchips euere wonde
Þat Crist sofyrd fore his sake,
Fore his syns amendis to make;
I-blessid be þat stounde.

Where-fore Y pray ȝoue specialy
Þat ȝe say hit dewoutly;
Ȝoure souls ȝe may saue,
Fore Crist haþ grawndtid seche a grace;
In heuen He schal haue a plasse,
Þat oþer schal noȝt haue,

Þat fulfyld not þis prayere,
And worchipd not His passion wyle þai bene here
With deuocion,
Þes þat to Him be vnkynd,
He wil not haue ham in mynd
In here trebulacion.

He þat techis anoþer mon þis,
He schal be sekyr of heuen blis,
Þus wretyn I fynde;
Fore þai be blessud of our Lord,
Þat heren and don after Godis word,
And holdyn hit in mynd.

Explicit de sanguine Christi.

5

Quomodo Ihesus fuit reprobatus a Iudeis.

O God, þe wyche þou woldust, Lorde,
Fore þe redempcion of þe worlde
Of Iewis to be repreuyd,
And to be betrayd of Iudas,
Of þat traytur with a cos,
Strayt boundyn and dispilid.

And as a lomb and ennosent,
To be lad to sacrefyce to-fore present
Of Ann and Kayface,
Of Pilate, Erod, and mone mo,
Vnsemele to be offyrd vp so,
Þat neuer didist trespace.

And to be acusid of false witnes,
Repreuyd and scorgid with creuelnes,
And to be crownd with þorns,
And to be spit in þe face,
And to be bofet and blyndfuld, alas!
With mone schamful skorns.

And to be þroullid hond and food
With charp naylus to þe rod,
And to be lift vp in þe cros,
Betwene two þeuys for to hyng.
Of aysel and gal þai propherd þe drynke;
With a spere þi hert persid was.

Be þese most hole payns, Lord,
Fore me, synful, þat þou soffyrd,
I worchip with hert and wylle.
Also, fore þe hole cros,
Delyuer my soule, Lord, fro losse,
Fro þe payns of helle.

And led me, Lord, graciously,
Synful wreche and onworþe,
Into þat some plasse
Þou ladist þe þefe hongyng þe by,
And grauntust him grace and þi mercy;
Foreȝif me my trespace.

Wele is him þat wil and may
Say þis oreson euere day
Of Cristis passion.
Out of þis word or þat he wynd,
Of al his synnus, as wretyn I fynd,
Schal haue remyssion.

6

De psalterio passionis.

Wele is him þat wele can
Sai þe sauter of þe passion;
Here þus þou schalt begyn
In þe remission of þi synne.

Anima Christi sanctifica me,
Corpus Christi salua me,
Sanguis Christi inebrea me,
Aqua latris Christi laua me,
Passio Christi conforta me,
O bone Ihesu exaudi me
Et ne permittas me seperare a te,
Ab osti maligno defende,
In hora mortis voca me
Et pone me iuxta te
Vt cum angelis tuis laudem te
In saecula saeculorum, amen, pur charete.
Instid of þi pater noster þis þou take,
And þis þi aue fore Cristis sake.
O pendens dudum,
In hara crucis nudum,
Pro nostro scelere,
Ihesu nostri miserere. Amen.

And say on þi bedis in þis manere
As þou didist our lade sautere;
When þe sauter hit is e-done,
Þen say þi crede with hit anon;
Þen in þe worchip of Cristis passion,
Say þis hole oresoune.
O Deus qui voluisti
Pro redemcionem mundi
A Iudeis reprobare,
A Iuda traditory,
Osculo dare,
Vinculis aligary,
Et sicut agnus Innocens ad victimam, Eia!
Ante conspectum Anne, Cayfe, Pilate, et Herodis,
Indecenter offerri,
Falsis testibus accusary,
Flagellis et oprobryis vexare,
Spinis coronare,
Cholafijs cedi,
Clauis aculeys perforari.
O Deus qui voluisti
Pro redemc[i]onem mundi
A Iudeys reprobari,
A Iuda traditory,
Et sicut angnus Innocens ad victimam duci,
Ante conspectum Ann, Cayfe, et Pilati,
Et Erodes indecenter offerre,
A falsis testibus acusare,
Flagellis et oprobryis vexari,
Spinis coronari,
Sputis conspui,
Colaphijs aculeys perforari,
In cruce leuari,

Inter latrones deputare,
Felle et aceto potare,
Lance v[u]lnerare.

Tu, Domine, per has sanctissimas penas tuas quas ego indignus etiam recolo, et per sanctam crucem tuam, libera me de penis inferne et perducere me digneris indignum quo perduxisti latrone[m] tecum crucifixum: Qui viui[s] et regnas.

7

De septem verbis Ihesu Christi pendentis in cruce.

O Ihesu Crist hongyng on cro[y]s,
Vij wordis þou saydest with myld voys
Vnto þe Fader of heuen.
Be þe vertu of þe wordis foreȝif þou me
Þat I haue trespast here to þe
In þe dedle syns seuen.

In pride, in wraþ, and in enuy,
In lechory, in glotony,
With gret vnkyndnes,
In slouþ, Lord, in þi seruyse,
And in þis wordis couetyse,
Graunt me foreȝifnes.

O Ihesu, þis word furst ȝe sayde,
‘Fader, I am ele apayd;
Graunt ham remission
Þat don me al þis turmentre,
On ham, Fader, haue pete
Þat wot not what þai done.’

O Ihesu, so I þe beseche,
Ryȝt with herfulli speche,
Þou graunt myn enmes grace;
Here mysdedis here to mende
Out of þis word or þai wynde,
Fader, þou ȝif ham space.

O Ihesu, þe þeff to þe con say,
‘Haue mynd on me, Lord, I þe pray,
When þou cumyst to þi kyngdam.’
‘Amen, I say þou schalt be
Þis day in paradyse with me,
Without syn and schame.’

O Ihesu, my Soueren and my Lord,
Haue mynd on me with þat word
In þat same wyse.
When my soule schal wynd away,
Graunt me part, I þe pray,
Of þe ioys of paradyse.

O Ihesu, þi moder had gret pete
When heo se þe turment on rod tre;
To here þus con þou say,
‘Womon, lo, here þi sune,
Take here to þi moder, Ion,
And kepe here now I þe pray.’

O Ihesu, for þi moder loue,
Þat is cround in heuen with þe aboue,
And Ion, þi dere derlyng,
Fore þe loue þai hadyn to þe,
Vppon my soule þou haue pete,
And graunt me good endyng.

O Ihesu þou saydyst ful petuysly,
‘Eloy lamazabatani,’
With a rewful voyse.
‘My God, my God,’ hit is to say,
‘Wy foresakis þou me þis day
Hongyng apon þe croyse?’

O Ihesu, Lord, I þe pray,
Graunt me grace þat I may say
In tyme of temptacion,
‘Fader, þou haue merce on me,
As þou chadist þi blood on rod tre
Fore my redempcion.’

O Ihesu [þou] saydist ‘citio;’
Eysel and gal þai propherd þe to;
Þou foresoke þat bittere drynk.
Hit were þe soulis þat were in payn,
To delyuer ham þou wast ful fayne,
Out of þat darke dwellyng.

O Ihesu, graunt me grace to þorst
Þe water of lyue þat euer schal last,
Þe wel þat is euer lyȝtyng,
With al þe dessire of my hert
To foresake my synns with terys smert
Here in my leuyng.

O Ihesu, þou saydist ful spiritualy,
‘In manus tuas, Domine,
Comendo spiritum meum.
Out of þis word when I schal wynd
My soule to þe I recomend
Fader, to þe I cum.’

O Ihesu, my Lord and my Soueren,
When bode and soule schal part an-twyn,
My speryt I comende
In manus tuas, Domine,
In þi blis with þe to be,
Word without ende.

O Ihesu, þou saydist, ‘al endyd is.’
Labors, sorowys wooful, i-wys,
Þou sofyrd fore synful men.
To vs, Lord, þou wast ful kynd;
Graunt vs grace to haue in mynd,
To þonke þe here and hen.

And make me worþe, Fader dere,
Þi swete voyse þat I may here
In þe houre of my partyng,
‘Cum to me, my chosun blest,
And haue þe blis þat euer schal last,
Word without endyng.’

In þe worchip of þese wordis vij,
Devoutle to þe Fader of heuen,
Vij pater nosters ȝe say,
And vij aues to our Lady,
Fore sche is þe wel of al pete,
Þat heo wyl fore me pray.

And graunt me trew confession,
And very contrecion,
Hens ore I wynd,
Þat Cristis hole passion
May be my satisfaccion,
And schenchip to þe fynd.

Welle is him þat wil and may
Worchip þese wordis euere day
With deuocion.
Ful secur þen may he be,
Ȝif he be in loue and charyte,
Haþ playn remyssion.

Explicit septem verba Domini Nostri Ihesu Christi.

8

De salutacione corporis Ihesu Christi.

When þou scyst þe sacrement,
Worchip hit with good entent.
Þus þou schalt begyn:
Knele on þi kneys, þen mekely
Beceche Him of grace and mercy
Foreȝifnes of þi synne.

Hayle! gracious Lord in þi Godhede,
Hayle! fayþful fygur in forme of bred,
Hayle! matryal mater in þi monhede,
Worchip mot þou be.
Hayle! Fadyr and Son and Hole Gost,
Hayle! maker of medylerd of myȝtis most,
Hayle! halnere of þis hole host,
Iij persons in Trenite.

Hayle! þi gloryous Godhede hit may not be sene,
Hayle! with no freelte of flesly ȝene;
Hayle! I beleue truly in þis bred þat ȝe bene,

Verey God and mon.
Hayle! of a maydyn ȝe were borne
To saue þi pepul þat was forlorne;
A seche anoþer was neuer beforne
In þi carnac[i]on.

Hayle! I beleue lele in þat L[a]dy ȝe lyȝt;
Hayle! I beleue ȝe were conseyuyd in here body bryȝt,
Hayle! þroȝ þe grace of þe Hole Gost and þi Fader myȝt,
Borne of hyre þou was.
Hayle! þou sofyrdst þer payne and passion
Here fore our redempcion,
And graunt vs now remissione
Fore our trespase.

Hayle! I beleue in þi gloryous resureccion,
Hayle! I beleue in þy meruelus assencion,
Hayle! I beleue þe Hole Gost þou sendist here adowne
Among þe postillis alle.
Hayle! He enspyrus euer[e] spirite,
And ȝewes hem wysdam and wit
Þat wille reule ham affter hit,
And to His grace calle.

Hayle! I beleue fayþfule ȝe beþ Fader omnipotent,
Hayle! I beleue þou schalt me deme at þi iugement,
Hayle! I beleue body and soule schal be þer present
To-fore þi gloryouse face.
Hayle! I beleue sauyd to be,
And al Cristyn men treuly
Þat fore here syns here beþ sore,
Þou grawntis merce and grace.

Hayle! pereles prince withowton any pere,
Hayle! blesful blood and flesche boþ y-fere,
Hayle! þus I worchip ȝoue with al my pouere,
With hert and good entent.
Hayle! graunt me grace goostely
To ressayue þi blessid body
In parfyte loue and charite,
Þat is here present.

Hayle! ground ay of my goodnes and my couernowre,
Hayle! sustenans to my soule and my saueour,
Hayle! cumforder of þe sek and al here socour,
In þe Lord hit is.
Hayle! solans to hom þat beþ sory,
Hayle! help to hom pat beþ gulte,
Hayle! hope of grace and of mercy,
Þou grawnt vs al þy blys.

He þat wyl say þis oreson
With good hert and dewocion
Afftyr þe leuacion
Of þat sacrement,
He schal haue þis pardon
Of his synns remyssione,
Þus I fynde wretyn
Of Pope Enocent.

O Lord Ihesu Crist, fore þi hole flesche most worþi,
And þi presious blood þou toke of þe vergyn Mari,
And þat same blod be grace
Þou chidist out of þi presious syde,
Hongyng on cros with wondis wyde,
Fore oure hele hit was.

And in þat same flesche þou rose fro deþ to lyue,
And stydist vp to heuen with ioyis, with ioyful ryue;
Fro þens þou art to cum
To deme þe pepul boþ quyk and dede,
In þat same flesche withoutyn drede,
At þe dai of dome.

Lord, delyuer me, boþ gracious and good,
Fore þi hole flesche and blod
Is sacred in þis autere,
From alle vnclenes of bode and soule,
And payns and perellis boþ seke and hole,
And graunt me my prayere.

Adoramus te Christe et benedicimus tibi quia per sanctam crucem tuam. . . . Ecce angnus Dei. Ecce qui tollis peccata mundi. Ecce Deus noster, ecce Deus iustus. Ecce Deus vivorum et mortuorum. Ecce vita vivencium, spes moriencium. Salus omnium in te credentium quem adoramus, quem gloreficamus, cui benedicamus Dominum omnipotentem Patrem et Filium cum Sancto Spiritu laudemus et superexaltemus eum in secula. Adiutor et protector et defensor sis, Iudice ben[i]gnissime et gloriosissime. Amen.

Laudes Deo dicam per secula, qui me plassmavit manu dextera, atque redemit cruci propria sanguine nati.

Spiritus Sancti assit nobis gracia, soli Deo remanet honor virtus et gloria. Am[e]n.

Explicit Salutacio.

9

De meritis misse; quomodo debemus audire missam.

Lordis, ȝif ȝe wil lyþe,
Of a þyng I wil ȝou kyþe
Is helþ to al monkynd;
Of þe medis of þe masse,
Hou euere mon more and lasse
Schuld haue hem in mynd.

How ȝe schul ȝour seruyse say,
Ȝour prayers preuele to pray
To Hym þat mai vnbynd,
In saluyng of ȝour synis seuen,
To Ihesu, Godis Son in heuen,
Oure Fader þat we schul fynd.

Ȝour fayþful Fader He schal be fond
To euere mon þat is e-bonde
In syn, fore to say
Be Hys soferens we may se
How He prouys þe and me,
And letys vs wyle He may.

Fore He is boune our bale to bete
Ȝef we wyl of our syn lete
Into our deþ-day.
And ȝif we wyl leue our synne,
He wyl wys vs fore to wyne
To heuen þe rede way.

What mon long Y wold sofir to se,
Fore hys syn himselfe to sle,
Ȝif he myȝt lif aȝayne;
Fore ȝif he were fore traytre take,
Þen he most amendis make,
Or ellis to be slayne.

Ryȝt, serus, soo most we
In our hertis sore be
Fore our synys sake.
And to þe prest schryue þe,
And do þi penans deuoutly,
And þis amendis make.

Holeer þyng may no mon here,
Ne lyȝtyr þyng fore to lere,
To lerne men of lore,
To teche men in what wyse
Hou þay schal say here seruyse
In chorche when þai be þore.

Ȝif þou to þe cherche go,
To-ward, fro-ward, or ellis cum fro,
To here masse ȝif þou may,
Al þe way þat þou gase
An angel payntus þi face
Þe Prynce of heuen to pay.

So in þat oure þou lest noȝt
Þat þou hast þer in þi þoȝt
Þi prayers fore to praye;
Blynd þat day þou schalt noȝt be,
Þe sacrement ȝif þou may se,
Soþle, as I þe say.

And seche grace God haþ þe ȝeue,
Ȝif þou be clene of syne schreue,
When þou His bode ast y-seyne,
Ȝif þou dey þat ilke day.
Þou schalt be found in þe fay
As þou houseld hadust bene.

And boþ þi mete and þi drynke,
Þou schalt wyn with lasse swynke,
Without trauayle or tene.
And ȝif þou stond in one drede,
Alle day þou schalt þe bettyr spede
To keuer þi cars kene.

Saynt Austyne comawndis ȝoue spesialy
Þat ȝe beleue truly
In þat sacrement:
Þat He is þer God veray
Þat schal ȝou deme at domysday,
At His iugement,

Þat sofyrd payn and passione
Here fore ȝour redempcion
Apon þe rod tre,
And grawntis ȝou remission,
Ȝif ȝe haue contresion,
When schreuyn þat ȝe be.

When þat þai knele to þe sacreyng,
Knelis adoune fore one þyng,
And hold vp ȝour hond,
And þonk þat Lord of His grace,
Þat al þyng land ȝou He has,
Þroȝ His swet sond.

Þen glad mai ȝe be
Ȝour Saueour so to se;
Tent and ȝe wold take,
Fore hit is þe same brede
Þat He dalt or He was dede,
Fore His disipilis sake,

And lafft hit with hem in memore,
And to ale oþer prestis truly,
To haue hit in mynd,
Ȝeuery day of þe ȝere,
To ofur hit vpon His autere
In saluacion of al monkynd.

And he þat ressayus hit worþely,
At þat day wen he schal dye,
Hit is his saluacion.
And he þat is in dedle syn,
Anon as hit enters him withyn,
Hit is his dampnacion.

Take ensampil be Iudas;
At Cristis soper, Y wot, he was,
And ete of þat blessid bred,
Bot fore he was in didle syn,
Þe fynd entyrd anon him yn,
Fore his Lord he had betrayd.

Þer-fore loke þat ȝe be
In parfite loue and charyte,
And out of dedle syn.
Loke, what bone þat ȝe craue
Aske God and ȝe may haue,
And heuen blis to wyn.

Ȝoure pater nostere loke ȝe con,
And ȝour aue, euere mon,
And spesialy ȝoure crede,
Ellis e-sauyd ȝe may not be;
Bot ȝe con ȝour beleue truly,
Ȝe stond in gret dred.

For al þat euer nedis to þe,
And to þi nyȝtbore truly,
In þe pater noster hit is.
Vij petecions þer be in
Þat getis ȝou foreȝifnes of ȝour syn,
And bryngis ȝour soule to blis.

V worchipis þou dost to our Lady,
When þat þou sayst þyn aue,
Blessid mot heo be.
Þus angel Gabreel he con say,
‘Hayle! ful of grace, þou swet may,
God He is with þe.’

Xij arteklus of þi beleue,
Þus clerkis þai don ham preue,
Þat beþ in þis crede,
Þat getyn þe saluacion,
And of þi syns remission,
And heuen to þi mede.

Ȝour x comawndmentis ȝe most con,
And kepe hem wel, euere mon,
Þus Crist He bede;
Þi gostle fader schal teche ham þe,
Or ellis ful woful schal ȝe be;
Þai stond in gret dred.

Þe vij dedle synns ȝe most know,
Wyche þai bene I wyl ȝou schew,
Ryȝt here anon.
Pride, couetyse, wraþ, enuy,
Lechore, slouþ, and glotone,
Here þai bene echon.

Ȝif any of þese þat ȝe in falle,
Anon on Crist loke þat ȝe calle
With contricion.
Anon schryue ȝou of ȝour syn,
Be frelte ȝif ȝe fal þer-yn,
And ȝe schal haue remission.

Þen in þe cherche ȝe knele adowne,
With good hert and deuocion,
Hold vp ȝour hondis þen;
Furst fore ȝourselfe ȝe schul pray,
Seþen fore fader and moder, as I þe say,
And þen fore al þi kyn,

And fore þi frynd and fore þi foo,
And fore þi good-doeres also,
Alse mone as þou mai myn,
And fore þe prest þat syngis masse,
Þat God forȝif him his trespasse,
And al þe cherche beþ in.

Ȝif þat þe þrest þe masse doþ syng
Be not at þi lykyng,
Þer-fore let þou noȝt,
For þe his masse is as good to here
As ane monkis ore ane frere;
Haue þis in þi þoȝt.

Bot his prayers and his bone
Be not hard half so sone
As þe mon þat wele haþ wroȝt.
Y do ȝou out of dispaire;
Þe sacrement no mon may mend ne payre;
Þer-on doctors han soȝt.

Boþ Saynt Barnard and Saynt Bede
Sayne þe masse is of so gret mede
Þat no mon mend hit may;
Weder þat he were wold or ȝong,
He myȝt tel with no tung,
Þaȝ he myȝt leue fore ay,

Ne expone hit opres,
Half þe medis of þe masse,
Into his last day,
Were he neuer so wyse of art,
He schuld fayle þe v part
Of þe soþ to say.

I pray ȝo, serrys, more and lasse,
When ȝe stond at ȝour masse
Sum good word ȝe say,
Fore as mone as ȝe prayn fore,
Securly fore mone a score,
At masse myn ȝe may.

All þyng þaȝ ȝe myn noȝt,
Hold ham stil in ȝour þoȝt,
Hom þat ȝe fore pray.
I do ȝou clene out of dout,
Þer is non þe masse without
Bot he be in hel for ay.

Fore alse mone as ȝe may myn
When ȝe beþ þe cherche withyn,
Þer is non a masse without.
Bot ȝif he be in dedle syn,
And þynke to contenu þer-yn,
Þen he stondis in dowte.

When þat ȝe bene in þe kerke,
þenke þer-on and þenke not erke,
Hent to þe last endyng.
Þen haue no dout of þi doole;
Þou hast a masse þiself al hole;
Hit is so hy a þyng.

Saynt Austyn sayþ fore soulis here
A þousand, and þou woldist here
Do a masse fore to syng,
Hit is nouþer more ny lasse,
Bot euere soule he haþ a masse;
Hit is to Godis plesyng.

In þat houre þou herst þi masse,
Soules hit doþ gret solas,
Þat byþ in payns bidyng;
Of þat oure þai beþ ful fayne,
Fore hit delyuers hem of here payne;
Þis is a gracious þyng.

Fore His loue þat ȝou dere boȝt,
Haue mynd of þis, foreȝete hit noȝt,
Ȝe not when ȝe schul passe.
Ȝif ȝe wil be sekyr and sere,
Euere day in þe ȝere
Loke þou here þi masse.

Ȝif þou may not þi masse here,
Þen þis lesson Y rede þou lere.
When þai to masse do knyle;
Pray God of His gret grace
To send þe part of þat masse,
Ȝif hit be His wylle.

I do þe clene out of dout,
Þou art not þat masse without,
Seche grace is ȝif to þe.
Fore þi hert dissiryng
Þou hast part of beedis and masse syn[g]yng
Where þat euer þou be.

Fore þe prest þat syngis þe masse
For al astatus more and lasse,
Þat is here leuyng,
He takis hem in his memore,
And soulis þat beþ in purgatore,
Þat God to blis hem bryng.

Here-fore, serys, more and lasse,
Euere day here ȝour masse,
On morowe ȝif ȝe may.
And ȝif ȝe mai not on morwe,
Loke ȝe do be vndorne,
Or ellis b[e] mydday.

Sertenly without fayle,
Lese þou schalt not of þi trauayle
Half a fote of þi way.
Al dai þou schalt be þe lyghtur,
And haue grace to do þe better,
Fore soþ as I þe say.

Ȝet Saynt Austyn bed take tent
Þat [ȝ]e hold no parlement
With no leuyng mon,
Fro tyme þe cherche ȝe ben within,
And þe prest he doþ begyn
His vestmentus to take on.

Fore wyckid gostis þai wyl hit wyt,
And ȝour wordis þay wil ham wryte
In here bokis euerechon.
Þat witnes wele S[aynt] Austyne,
Þat furst in Englond with his gyn
Þe treuþ to preche began.

To-fore þat Awstyn in Englond come,
With Saynt Gregore in gret Rome
Ful derele con he dwel.
Hent on a day of gret dernes,
Saynt Gregore wold syng his masse,
So fayre as him befelle.

To þe, Austyn, he mad a syne
Fore to be his dekyn dene
To red his cospel.
And as he red he sau sit
Þre fyendys, as ȝe may wit,
And talis con þai telle.

What þai sayd he herd hit alle
Þroȝ a wyndow of þe walle
No fer fro his face.
He se a fynd sit wit[h]in,
With pen and enke and parchemen,
As God ȝif him grace.

He wrot so lung þat he dyd want,
And his parchement wex scant,
To speke þai had space.
With is teþ he con hit tug,
And as Rofyn begon to rug,
His rolle began to rase.

So hard Rofyn rogud his rolle
Þat he smot with his choule
Aȝayns þe marbys stone.
Of þat dynt þai had gret doute,
Al þat setyn þer aboute,
Fore þai herd hit echon.

When þe fynd so hard drou,
Saynt Austyn stod and low;
Saynt Gregore þen con grame.
Neuer-þe-lees fore grame he get,
Sone after masse þe[n] Austyn he met,
And myldele mad his mone.

He sayd to him with myld mode,
‘What aylid þe, þou wytles woode,
To-dai to do þis dede?
Seche a dede was neuer done.’
Þen he answerd him ful sone
Fore of him he had gret drede.

‘Sere, greue ȝe noȝt or ȝe wyt,
Fore ȝonder I se a satanas sit,
Hit semyd his hed did blede.
What he wrot to-fore he brayd,
Þat iij wyuys seton and sayde,
As I stod to rede.

‘I was adeuyd of þat dynt;
Hit stoned me and mad me stont,
Styl out of my steuen.
I schal ȝou tel what I se,
And word þer-of I wyl noȝt lye;
Be Godis Son in heuen.

‘Syr, ȝe may wyl trow,’
He lad him to þe wy[n]dow.
‘Cum nere, syr, and sene.’
Þo Saynt Gregore was adred
Fore blak blood he se e-spred
Apon þe aschelere euen.

Þen þis good mon greuyd him lasse,
And comawndit at euere masse
Of þis mater to myn.
Kepe ȝou out of Godis wreke,
Fore þer is no word þat ȝe speke,
Bot ȝe don syn.

Þer-fore, serys, with good wyl
Loke þat ȝe hold ȝou styl
Þe cherche when ȝe bene in.
A prest to stone in his masse,
Al a lond may fare þe worse,
Out of wo to wyn.

Þe chorche is a house of prayere
Hold hile to Godis honoure,
To worchip hym þer-in
What ryȝtful bone þat ȝe craue,
Aske God and ȝe schul haue,
And be foreȝeuyn of ȝour syn.

Hit were hard to oure behoue,
Vche proferbe fore to preue,
Of our awntros alle.
Here schortle I wyl chew hit,
Lewd men to know hit,
Crist on fore to calle.

In þe cherche þou knele adown
With good hert and deuocion;
Hold vp þi hondis þen;
Fore þiself furst þou pray,
Fore fader and moder, as I þe say,
And seþyn fore al þi kyn;

And fore þe weder and fore þe pes,
And fore men and wemen mo and lees,
Þat Cristyndam an han tane.
In þe name of þe trenete
Þen pater noster say þou iij;
Say furst in Cristis name.

Þen v pater noster þou schalt say,
To pray Him þat best may,
To gyf þe wit and grace,
Þi v wyttis so to spende,
Þi synful soule here to amend,
To heuen to folou þe trasse.

Seþin vij to þe Hole Gost
To kepe þe out of werkis wast,
And out of dedle syn.
Ten pater noster say þou þen
Fore brekyng of þi hestis x,
And þus þou schalt begyn.

On þe werkeday ȝif þat þou be
About þi labor treuly,
In word as þou most nede,
On þe haleday þou fulfyl
Ryȝt as I haue sayd þe tyll,
And þou art out of drede.

And oche a day þi masse þou here,
And take hale bred and hale watere
Out of þe prestis hond,
Seche grace God haþ ȝif þe,
Ȝif þat þou dey sodenly,
Fore þi housil hit schal þe stond.

Fore suche power þat blessyng hit has,
Þat God blessud þe bred in wildernes,
And two fyschis also,
And fedd þer-with v þosand men,
Xij lepus of relef laft affter þen;
Soche lordis þer be no moo.

And also loke þat ȝe be
In parfyte loue and charyte,
And out of dedle syn.
What ryȝtful bone þat ȝe craue,
Aske God and ȝe schul haue,
And heuen blis to wyn.

Alle þat han herd þis sermon,
A c. days of pardon,
Saynt Gregore grauntis ȝou þis.
Out of þis word wen ȝe sch[al] wynd,
Ihesu saue ȝou from þe fynd,
And bryng ȝour soule to blis.

Explicit meritis misse.

10

Quomodo Dominus Ihesus Christus apparuit Sancto Gregorio in tale effugie.

Apon a day Saynt Gregore
Song his mas at Rome truly;
Crist to him he con apere
In þe fegure of his autere;
Þen Gregore had conpassion,
And grawntis xiij þousand ȝere of pardon,

And oþer bischops mone mo
Grawntyd more pardon þer-to;
Þe now[m]bur hit is of al e-fere,
Xx.iij and vj days and xxx.vj ȝere.
Say v pater noster and v aue,
In reuerens of þis hole pete,
With good herd and deuocion,
In worchip of His passion,
Knelyng down apon ȝour kne,
Askyng grace of þis pete.
Ȝif ȝe be out of dedle syn,
Þen þis pardon may ȝe wyn,
In what plase hit payntid is,
Þe same pardon þer-to þer is;
Þen loke þou say anon
Dewowtle þis confession.

De confesione generali.

Swete Ihesu Crist to þe,
Coubabil wreche Y ȝild me;
Of al þe syns I haue e-do
In al my lyue heder-to,
In prid[e], in wraþ, and in enuy,
In lechore and in glotony,
In slouþ, Lord, in þi seruyce,
And in þi worldis couetyse;
To oft I haue in my lyue
I-synnud with my wyttis fyue;
With eren her, with eyne-syȝt,
With synful speche day and nyȝt,
With clepyng and with cussyng bo,
With hond e-handild, with fete e-go,
With hert synfulli I haue þoȝt,
With al my bodi mys e-wroȝt,

Here of al my foly,
Lord, merce to þe I cry.
Ale þaȝ I haue synyd euer,
Lord, I foresoke þe neuer;
No noþer God toke I non,
Fader of heuen, bot þe al-one,
Here-fore, Fader, I þe beseche,
Ryȝt with hertful speche,
Þat þou ȝif me no mede
After my synful dede.
Bot, Lord, fore þi gret mercy,
Haue reuþ and pete apon me,
And send me here oft er Y dye
Sorou of hert with tere of ye,
And let me neuer heft begyn
Fore to do no dedle syn,
So at myn endyng day
Clene of syn dey I may,
With schryft and housil at myn end,
So þat my soule mai wynd
Into þat blis withoutyn pere,
Þer ȝe dwel, Lord and Syre, Amen.
Loke ȝe say þis oresoun
Dewoutle with deuocion.

Quomodo Ihesus in cruce rogabat Patrem pro inimicis. Oracio.

O [L]ord Ihesu Crist hongyng on cros,
Fore our syn I wot hit was,
Þer þou praydist þi Fader al-hone
To foreȝif þyn enmys euerechon;
I beseche þe fore þat hole word,
Foreȝif myn enmys, Y pray þe, Lorde,
þat han trespassid here to me,
And grawnt ham loue and charyte,
I pray þe, Lord, þat hit so be,
And þat ȝe wil foreȝif me. Amen.

11

De visitacione infirmorum et consolacione miserorum.

Saynt Ancelyne, þat hole bischop,
He med þis tretys be Godis grace,
Hou ȝe schul set in God ȝour hope,
Out of þis word wen ȝe schul passe;
And to foresake al þat þou has,
Wyfe and child, al wordle þyng,
And to dissyre to haue þat plas
Were ioy and blis is ay bydyng;
And haue þis in þi mynd,
Fore þat ioy schal neuer sese,
Bot euer endure and euer encres,
And euer in loue, rest, and pesse,
In ioy and blis without end.

Þus to þi God þou schalt þe ȝild,
And knowleche to him al þi trespas,
His comawndmentis not fulfillid,
Þi v wittis myspend þou has;
And aske him mercy loule, and grace;
Þe werkis of mercy þou hast not don,
Vesid þe pore in euereche plase,
Ne done þe seke consolacion.
Þen þus schal þou say:
‘I knowleche me, Lord, gilte,
In pride, couetys, wraþ, enuy,
In lechore, slouþ, and glotony,
I haue e-synyd boþ nyȝt and day.’

Þus alle men He doþ cumford,
And cowncelis ȝou þur charite,
Settis noȝt be þe ioy of þis word,
Hit is bot vayn and vanete,

Fore ȝoure namys wretyn þay be
In þe boke of lyue in heuen blis,
To haue ioy þer perpetualy.
Al erþle ioy hit schal vanysche
Within a lytil stound,
Fore ale þis wordle honor
Schal fal and fade as doþ a floure;
Pope, kyng, duke, emperoure,
Al schul þai go to grounde.

Behold a charnel ful of bonys,
What clerke con þer-owte a bone
Of lord ore ladys schete al at ones,
Of ryche, of pore, of gentil mon;
So bredern and sisterne we beþ echone,
And he þat doþ best in his leuyng
Schal haue most mede when he is goon
And most þonk of his Fader, heuen Kyng;
Vche mon in his degre,
As he haþ kept his oune astate,
To Godis worchip, erle and late,
He schal haue reward al-gate,
Bale, or blis, weder-so-euer hit be.

Allas! þat we con not beleue
Þat we felyn and sen with syȝt;
How lytil a þyng mon may greue
When eny syknes is on him dyȝt;
Anon he has lost al his myȝt,
Þen hard on Crist he wyl crye,
Fore pa[yn] of deþ he is afryȝt,
Þat al wordle ioy he settis not by,
Þen cumford is þer non.
A! synful mon, haue þis in mynd:
Þi mysdedis betyme amend,
And serue þi God, forsake þe fynd,
Þen schal þou haue remyssion.

Fore cursid be he þat trustis in mon,
And doþ not affter Cristis wil,
More þen he doþ in God, al one,
Þat bode and soule may saue and spil,
Fore Cristis bidyng we schuld fulfil,
And do fore ourself or we passe hen,
And pot oure soulis out of parelle,
And trust not ale to oþer men.
Fore þou getyst no more with þe
Saue þi good dydis, withoutyn drede,
Hole prayers, masse, and almusdede;
After þi meryd and þi mede
Rewardid schal þou be.

Fore Cristis loue doþ almesdede;
In þi good lyue gif a pene
To þe pore þat haþ gret nede,
Or mete, drynk, cloþis, or herbar fre,
And þou plecyst God more specyaly
Þen a þowsond hillis of gold, as I þe say,
Were made in mynt and in money
To dele after þi deþ day.
Fore mede getis þou none
Bot ȝif þiselfe þi soule sokoure,
Ellis may not þi cekatoure;
Hit is þe wordis, alle þi tresoure,
When þou art goon.

More med is a mas here in þi lyue
Þen to haue a þausand after þi day,
Ȝif to þe prest þou wylt þe schryue
And do þi penans here wyl þou maye,
Þus þou myȝt God plese and pay,
Ȝif þat þou wold þi soule socour
Or þi caren be cast in clay,
And trost not to þi secatoure.

Gregore þus con he say,
‘Better hit is now fore þe
To wenche þe fuyre of purgatore—
Þer-in cast or þat þou be—
Þiselfe here wyle þou may.’

Þus Seynt Ancellyne to ȝoue he sayd,
‘Dissyre ȝe not aȝayns Godis wile,
Bot euer ald ȝou wel apayd,
What vesetacion He send ȝou tylle,
Fore His merce in ȝou He wil fulfil
When tyme is cum at His lykyng;
Fore wom He louys He chastest wele,
And saue his soule fro perescheng,
Fro þe payns of helle.
Fore His grace and His goodnes,
His benyngnyte and His blessidnes,
His hye merce and His mekenes,
Con no tung here telle.’

Þus clepþ aȝen ȝvster-day,
Saynt Ancellyne he cownsellis þe,
And mesure þi wynde, Y the pray,
And wy þe foyre of purgatore;
Þese iij wordis declared schal be,
What þai beþ to vnderstond;
Lerne þis lesson pur charete,
And þonke þi God of His swet sond.
Fore hit is fore þe best
To haue þi payne, þi purgatorye,
Out of þis word or þat þou dye,
Fore God ponysche not twyse truly;
Take hede mekele, þen art þu bleste.

Þus ȝistyr-day þou clepe aȝayne,
And take knoulesche of þi consians,
Hou þou hast spend þi lyue in vayn,
Aȝen Godis wil and His plesans;
Þen mesoure þi wynd with repentans,
And schryue þe clene of alle þi synne;
Þen wey þe fouyre with trew balans,
What purgatore þou schuldist haue þen;
Fore þis is Godis oune wyll,
Þat euere good dede rewardid schal be
In erþ or ellis in heuen on he,
And vche syn e-ponyst truly
In erþ, in purgatore, or ellis in helle.

Bot aboue His warkis is His mercy,
Þenke what did Mare Mawdleyn,
And Peter þat foresoke him þry
Fore þe ways of twey wemen,
And Toh[m]as of Ynd þat mysbeleuyd þen,
Al þai had mercy and grace;
And so schul haue al Cristyn men
Þat wil repent wyle þai han space;
Fore as possibil hit were
Watere of þi ne
To wenche þe fuyre of purgatory,
As al þe water in þe se
To wenche a gnost of fuyre.

Fore more ioye in heuen þer is
Of a mon þat foresakis his syn,
And wil amende he doþe amys,
And do his penans is eniunyd þen,

Þen of iiij score of ryȝtwys men;
In þe gospel wretyn hit is;
Fore hom ned is heren oune medsyn,
Boþ þai þat beþ seke in soule i-wys.
Cryst sayþ þus graciously,
‘I come not to clepe ryȝtwyse men
Bot þo þat in erþ synful bene;
Hom I cal to penans þen
To graunt hom grace and my mercy.’

For he þat wil himselue here loue,
And forsake his syn and be sore,
And to þe prest him schryue and chewe,
And do his penans dewoutly,
He neuer rehersid schal be
When he is callid to his rekynyng,
Fore Crist haþ foreȝifne him þroȝ His mercy,
Here in erþ in his leuyng,
Þroȝ His specyale grace.
Ȝif þou wilt sekyr sauyd be,
Foresake þi syn or hit do þe,
Ellis þai schul be cheuyd opynle,
At domysday before Cristis face.

Fore Peter wept euer aftur moore
When he herd eny koke crowe,
And Mare Mawdlyan wepeng ful sore
Askid grace of Crist with hert so low,
And Thomas of Ynd mad vs to know
Hou false he was in his beleue,
Fore Crist His wondis to him con shew;
Þe soþ himselue he mad him preue.

‘Thomas, to þe I say,
Blessid be þai þat neuer seyn,
And trewle in my werkis beleuyn,
Fore þai schul haue þe blis of heuen,
And my blissyng nyȝt and day.’

Affter Crist made Peter of paradyse porter,
And betoke him þe kyis of heuen ȝate,
And ȝif him fulle his pouere
To louce and bynd erle and late,
And bede him þynke on his astate,
How freel he was and eþ to falle,
And He him graunt merce alle-gate
To al þat in erþ His grace wyl calle,
With sorow of ert and confession.
‘Peter, as I ȝeue þe mercy,
So on oþer þou haue pete,
Þat foresakis his synus and beþ sory,
Þou graunt hem ale remission.’

Þus we ben bleste of Godis mouþ,
Al þat beleuen in Him truly,
Est and west, norþ and souþ,
Þai schal haue grace and mercy,
And no noþer sekyrly.
Dampnacion to hom al is diȝt
Þat wol witt how and wy
Þat al þyng Crist do he myȝt;
Ensampil ale day we se,
Fro þe heuen on he token,
Þe lygȝt, þe þonder, and ster, mone and son,
Þat He is almyȝte God al-hon,
And no noþer Lord bot he.

Fore hole cherche prays fore no mo
Bot þo þat beleuyn and dye in Crist;
Al oþer to pena[n]s þai schal goo,
Þat to His merce and grace wil not trost,
Bot leuen after here flesschele lust
As bestis don, vnresnabele;
Hur lyue-days þai han e-lost;
Here dedis schul deme hem openly
At Cristis iugement.
Fore Cristyn men callid þaȝ ȝe be,
Bot ȝif ȝe done Cristynly,
Ȝe bere þat name in wayn truly;
Ȝe wil be schamyd and schent.

Here-fore beleue in Crist truly,
And foresake ȝoure lust and ȝour lykyng,
And set ȝour trust in Him truly,
To haue þat ioy þat is euerlastyng;
And let þis be al þi wylnyng,
Ȝif þat þou turne to lyue aȝayn,
To amend þi mysleuyng,
And Him to serue be glad and fayn,
And haue þis in þi mynd;
And aske Him grace and His mercy,
Fore His moder loue maydyn Mare,
And al þe sayntis in heuen on hye,
To graunt þe grace to make good end.

Þus in þi God þou cumford þe,
And þenk apon His passion,
Þat fore þi loue here wold He dey
With cros, spere, nayle, and croune,
Fore in Him is al consolacion,

And may þe hele of þi sekenes,
And grawnt þe here now remission,
And of þi syns foreȝifnes.
Loke þou beleue wel þis:
Þaȝ þou haue greuyd Crist here before,
His merce is mekil more,
Fore He haþ salue fore euere sore,
And may amend þou dost mys.

Þi baptim and þi confyrmacion,
Þes be His saluys verament,
And hole order, and matremon,
And schreft, and housil, þat sacrement,
Þen þe last anelyng with good entent,
Hit may þe clens boþ out and yn.
Þe prest haþ pouere þat is present
To asoyle þe of al þi syn;
Of God he haþ pouere,
Thorȝe vertu of the sacrement,
To asoyle al þat wil repent,
And chryue him clene verament,
And do here penans wyle þay beþ here.

Fore þis is Godis ordenans,
Þes sacrements to saue monkynd,
Fore in hom is al sofecians,
Boþ fore to loos and fore to bynd;
Þen to þat Lord be neuer vnkynd,
Þat haþ grawnt His spesial grace;
Þow we al day Him offend,
Remede þus ordend He has.
Þow we han don amys,
Ȝif fore our syns we beþ sory,
And ressayue His pressious body,
We schul haue grace and mercy,
And part of heuen blis.

Þen aske þi sacrements pur charyte,
And when þou ressayust þat sacrement,
Beleue in hert truly
Þat He is þat Lord omnipotent,
And Cristis god-son verament,
Þat with His blod þe dere haþ boȝt,
Þat schal þe saue at His iugement.
Haue þis in mynde, foreȝet hit noȝt,
And be ware, vche Cristin mon,
Fore heretekis and renegatis þat vncriston be,
Þat beleue not in þat sacrement treuly,
Þat Crist was borne of þe vergyn Mari,
Of hom is no redemc[i]on.

Here-fore beleue in Crist treuly,
Þat þorȝe þe Hole Gost conseyud He was,
And borne of þe vergyn Mari,
And sofyrd payn and passion, crucifid on cros;
Ded and beryd fore oure trespace,
Into hel He dissendid with myȝt and mayn,
And toke Adam and Eue out of here place;
Þe þrid day He ros to lyue aȝayn;
Into heuen He stid up þen,
And syttus þere on His Fadur ryȝt honde;
Fro þens He is to cum, þus vnderstond,
To deme His pepil ded or lewand,
After here dedis al maner men.

Also beleue in þe Hole Gost,
As hole cherche haþ informed þe,
And in þe Fader and Son of myȝtis most,
Iij persons in Trenete,

And in comenecacions with sayntis to be,
And to haue foreȝifnes of þi syn,
And þe vprysyng of þi flesche treuly,
And to haue euerlastyng lyue, Amen.
Here is þe co[n]clucion.
Þese beþ þe artecelis of þi beleue;
Kepe hem wele without repreue,
And þou schalt neuer haue myschife;
Hit is þe wel of saluacion.

And beleue and hope and trust also
As þy gostle faders cownsels þe;
Loke þou neuer go here-fro
Þaȝ þou haue fal þroȝ þi freelte,
Bot aske God grace and His merce,
And foreȝifnes of al oþer; men,
And foreȝif þou pur charyte,
And þou art sauyd, my soule fore þyn,
And stondis clene out of dred,
Fore Crist He says þus to þe,
‘Ȝif þou foreȝif fore loue of me,
Þen foreȝifne schalt þou be
Of al þi mysdede.’

And let make þi testment and þi last wil;
Furst pay þi dettis alle treuly,
And remembir þe, fore þat is skil,
What þou hou and oþer to þe;
Þen let hit be selid opynle,
And make þi soule a sekyr way,
Lest þi sekatours don not treuly;
Ensampil be oþer se þou may,
Be ware ȝe sekators.
Þe dedis wil loke þat ȝe done,
Out of þe word when þai bene gon,
Þat setyn here trust in ȝoue al one,
Ellis to God and mon ȝe be traytours.

Ȝif ȝe do trewly ȝour deuor,
Ful wele rewardid schal ȝe be,
Of Ihesu þat is ȝour Saueour
At þat day when ȝe schul dee;
Fore hit is a dede of charite
To do treuly vnto þe dede,
Þat lyen in þe paynes of purgatori,
After ȝour help þer to abyde;
No noþer sokyr þai han treuly,
Saue holy praye[rs], mas, and almesdede,
Þat qwenchyn here synus and here mysdede
As water doþ foyre without drede,
And al þe payns of purgatory.

Ȝe þat wepe for childer and frynd
When þai schul dey, haue þis in mynd,
Hyly ȝe ofend swet Ihesus,
As childer vncurtes and vnkynd;
In hole wret þus wretyn I fynd
Þat ioyful and glad schal ȝe be
When ȝour Fader wold after ȝoue send;
Euer to Him make ȝoue redy
As blessid childer þen,
Fore when fader and moder has ȝou foresake,
Þen Ihesus oure soulus to Him wil take,
Bot þey him cause grete sorou to make,
Þat dyen in det and dedle syn.

Meruel ȝe not of þis makyng,
Fore I me excuse hit is not I;
Þis was Seynt Ancelme cownselyng,
Þat was a bischop ful holy,

Fore I couþ neuer bot hye foly.
Crist has me chastist fore my leuyng;
I þonke me God, my Grace trewly,
Of Hys graciouse visetyng.
ȝe curatis, here I ȝou pray,
Þat han mon soule in ȝour kepyng,
Let red þis trete fore one þyng
To þe seke at here endyng;
Þus counsels ȝou þe blynd Audley.

And of ȝour lyue take good eme;
Beware lest God ȝe offend,
Fore as He fyndis ȝoue He wil ȝou deme,
Oþer be sauyd or ellis be schent;
Fore soden deþ lok ȝe amend,
And set not ȝour trust were non is,
Fore al is good þat good end,
When ȝe amend ȝe han do mys.
Þis is my cownselyng
How Godis wesitacion ȝe schuld take,
Fore ȝour mysdedis and ȝour syns sake,
And howe ȝe schul amendis make,
To haue þat ioy þat is euerlastyng.

Amen.

Explicit visitacio infirmorum et consolacio miserorum.

12

I pray ȝou serys pur charyte
When ȝe han red þis treuly
Þen redis þis passion
What Cryst sofyrd fore synful men.
Here schul ȝe here a treu lessoun,
Hou fayþ and charyte away is gon;
Multis diebus iam peractis,

Videte.

Nulla fides est in pactis;
Mel in ore verbis lactis,

Cauete.

Fel in corde, fraus in factis.

Mone days now a-gone
Fayþ ne couenant is þer non;
Behold and se.

In mouþ is hone swet wordis vchon;
In hert is galle; in dede, tresoun;
Ware now be.

Godis laus beþ turnyd vp-so-doun,
In hole cherche deuocion,
And fore charete.

Fore trew corexion is þer non,
Fore loue of mede, þat swet maydyn,
In non degre.

Fore ale þat clerkis now prechon
Of hole Cristis passion,
Is no pete.

To make here satisfaccion,
With wrong þat men here geten
With sotelte,

Ȝe schul acownt euerechon
Fore ȝour goodis, when ȝe bene gone,
Ful sekyrle,

Ȝif ȝe haue dissayuyd one mon,
Bot ȝe make satisfaccion
Or þat ȝe dye.

Here may ȝe se an he tokyn
Þat God He is wroþ with mon,
In heuen on hye.

Now werris þen don awakyn;
Þe erþ we fele quakyn;
Honger hathe be.

Pestlens we sen raynen;
Men al day þai dyen,
Sum sodenle.

Fore al þat trew tokyn,
Oure wittis ȝet we wantyn
To make vs redy.

Nou excusacion haþ we non
Out of þis word when þat we gon,
Leue ȝe me.

Godis bedyng bot we done,
We schul haue confucion,
Ful ryȝtwysly,

Fore men wil not beleuen
Þat heuen nor hel þer is non,
Ne turmentre.

And sekyr þou schalt haue þet on,
Ioy or ellis dampnacion,
Perpetualy.

I red þat nowe we amend
To God and mon þat we offend,
Here specialy;

And do fore oreselue or we goon,
And trust not to anoþer mon;
Hit is foly.

Fore oþer cownsel nede ȝe non,
Ȝif ȝe wil haue saluacion
Or þat ȝe dee.

Schryue ȝoue clene with contrition,
And make treu satisfaccion,
Þen blessid ȝe be.

I mad þis with good entent,
In hope þe raþer ȝe wold repent,
Þe soþ to say.

Fore I say soþ I am e-schent;
Prays fore me, þat beþ present,
Þe blynd Audlay.

13

De passione Domini nostri Ihesu Christi et de horis canonicis.

Pope Ion þe xij at Auyon was;
Þer, in þe worchip of Cristis passion,
He made þis gospel be Godis grace,
And ȝaf þer-to a gret pardoun,
ccc. days of remyssion,
Þe þred day before or he schuld dye,
To al þat sayd or herd hit with dewocion,
And on Cristis passion had pete.

Passio Christe conforta me,
Out of þis word when I schal wynd.
A! synful mon, make memory,
Of Cristis passion haue in þi mynd;
To þat Lord be neuer vnkynd,
Þat after His fegur He formyd þe,
And bond Himselue þe to vnbynd,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

Þis is þe gospel of Ion truly;
To þis passion take good enten[t].
Pilat, Ihesu, fore gret enuy
Toke þat Lord Omnipotent
And scorgid Him nakud in his present
Fro top to too with turmentry,
Þat skyn and flesche hit was to-rent,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

His knyȝtis mad a croun of þorne,
And set on His hede; hit persid His brayn;
And cloþid Him in purpul with chamful scornns;
Hayle! Kyng of Iewys, to Him con sayn;
To boffet Him þai were ful fayn,
And spit in His face welansly,
And smot Him on His hed with rodds aȝayn,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

When þai had don Him þis turmentry,
Þe knyȝtis tokon swete Ihesus
And drou Him to þe Mownt of Caluare
Apon His schulder beryng a cros;
Boþ hondis and fete naylid on þer was,
Betwene ij þeuys hongud to be,
Þat were damnyd fore here trespace,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

Þen vp þai lyft þat heue tre
And gurdid into a mortes of stone;
Þat greuys Ihesus more greuesly
Þen al þe turment þai had Him done,
Fore vayns and seneus hit brast, and bone,
Þat euere ioynt men myȝt e-se;
He was most lyke a leperus mon,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

Þen Ihesus wyst after what was cummyng
And sayd, ‘Now I þorst ful sore.’
Of aysel and gal þai ȝeuen Him drynk
And put hit in a sponge His mouþ before;
When He hit tastid, He wold no more,
And sayd, ‘Al endid is now treuly,’
And bowd doun His hed with sekyng sore,
And ȝif vp His spiryt fore loue of þe.

Þen þe herþ anon con quake,
And also þe sun he lost his lyȝt;
Þe stons of þe tempil on pesis þai brake,
Þe vayle þer-of a-twyn was twyȝt;
Gravys þai opend, anon þer ryȝt
Þer ros vp mone a ded body,
Of men and wemen were seyn with syȝt,
And al hit was fore loue of þe.

When sentoreo þis syȝt had sene,
He sayd, ‘Þis is verey Godis Son.’
A blynd k[ny]ȝt with a spere ful euen
Smot Ihesus into þe hert; anon
Blod and water out þer ron;
A drop þer-of fel in his hee;
He had his syȝt, þis synful mon,
Fore on Crystis passion he had pete.

He þat al þis sorous se,
He bers treu witnes here-on,
Þat was keper to mayd Mary,
Þe hole euangelyst, swete S[aynt] Ion;
And bedis ȝou beleue þis euerechon
Ȝif þat ȝe wil sauyd be,
Þat Crist sofyrd þis for synful mon,
Apon His passion to haue pete.

100

A! synful mon, haue þis in mynd:
Weder þat þou slepe or wake,
To þat Lord be neuer vnkynd,
Þat sofyrd þese sorous for þi syn sake.
Hou schalt þou amendis make?
What sofyrd þou fore Him? Onswere me.
Into His merce loke þou þe take,
And say þis prayour with gret pete.

O! Ihesu, þat boþe þi holy hond,
And þi blessid fyet also,
And al þi body, I vnderstonde,
Fore me synful on cros was do,
And cround of þe Iewis with þornes, þi fo,
In dispite of þi holy body;
Apon þi hed þou sofyrd gret wo,
And alle hit was fore loue of me.

With v captel wondis fore me, synful,
Þou were i-paynd apon þe cros,
Me to aȝayn by, Lord merceful,
With þi precyous blood þroȝ þi gret grace;
Of repentans þou ȝif me spase,
To foresake my synnus and be sory,
And foreȝif hem here trespase,
Þat on þi passion han pete.

And grawnt me, Lord, þat I may
Euere day do sum penans,
With sobirnes þe plese and pay;
And kepe me chast with abstenans,
And ȝif me wit and wisdam with perseuerans
To kepe my state and my degre,
Þe to serue to þi plesans,
And on þi passion to haue pete.

101

V pater noster nou þou schalt say
In þe worchip of Cristis passion,
And grete our lady, nou I þe pray;
With v aues knelyng adoune;
In reuerens of His v wondis alon,
Spesialy þou say þi crede,
Þat Crist graunt þe remission,
Þat fore þi synnus þi blod con schede.

Amen, Ihesu, now I þe pray,
Haue mynd and merce on blynd Audlay,
Þat mad in Englesche þis passion,
Fore synful men to haue mynd þer-on.

14

Hic incepiunt hore canonice passionis Ihesu Christe.

Crist þat was crucifyd on cros for our synnus sake,
Lord, on our mysdede no vengans þou take,
Bot send sorou into our hert our synnus fore to slake,
And let þi mercy be medysyn our mendis for to make,
Lord, we þe pray.
Here schul ȝe here anon,
What hard payn and passion,
Þat Crist sofyrd fore synful mon;
Gret dole here ȝe may.

Patris sapeencia veritas diuina.

Þe wysdam of þe Fader aboue ben þe treuþ of His Godede;
God and mon He was y-takun in þe oure of morotyde,
His fryndis and His dys[ip]lis sun Him had e-leuyde;
When He was takyn of þe Iewys to deþ He was betrayde;
Iudas had Him sold.
Fore xxx pens of lytil pryce
With Iewys he mad his marchandyce,
Because of cursid couetyse,
As a traytur bold.

102

Hora prima ductus est Ihesus ad Pilatum.

At prime Ihesus out þai lad; to Pilat þai cun him draw;
Mone was þe false wetnes þai saydyn in here saue;
Þai blynfeld Him; þai buffet Him, and bond Him aȝen law,
And spit in His fayre face; His chere myȝt no mon know;
And spulid Him al nakyd,
And cast loot fore His cote anon,
And bondon Him to a peler of ston,
And betin Him with scorgis fro top to ton;
Þe red blod fro Him strakid.

‘Crucifige’ clamatant hora terciarum.

At vndor þai drovn Him to His deþ; loud cun þai cri,
‘Crucifi Him on þe cros; dispoyle we Him in hye!’
Þai cround Him with a croun of þornes; þe blood ran in His ye;
He bere His cros on His chulder to þe Mount of Caluere
Þat His monhod lost His myȝt;
Þai drown Him forþ with ropis þen.
Þo wept þe wyfis of Ierusalem;
His moder, and Ion, Mare Maudlene,
Þai swonyd þer in His syȝt.

Hora sexta est cruce conclauat[u]s.

At mydday þai nayld Him on þe cros and crucifid heuen Kyng,
And lift Him vp apon þe tre betwen ij þeuus to hyng;
Because of turment He þurstid, þen of aysel þai ȝif him dryng;
Þus þe Lombe He did away our synn, His Godhed gloryfyyng,
Hon[g]yng apon þe cros.
To His moder He sayd anon,
‘A! womon, lo! here þi Sun.
Take here to þi moder, Ion.’
He swonyd before his face.

103

Hora nona Dominus Ihesus experauit.

At þe he our of non Ihesus ȝif vp þe gost;
His spyrit cryd, ‘Eloy!’ to þe Fader of myȝtis most;
A blynd kn[i]ȝt with a scharpe spere to þe hert Him þr[o]st;
Þe stons to breke, þe erþ con quake, þe son his lyȝt had lost.
Þen sentorio con he say,
‘Þis is veray Godis Sun
To deþ þat ȝe han here don,
Was borne of a maydyn,
Schal deme ȝou at domysday.’

De cruce deponetur hora vespertina.

At þe oure of euensong of þe cros þai toke Him doun;
Þe strenkþ of His Godhed in Him was hit alle one;
Seche a deþ He sofyrd þen, of our syn to be medysyn;
Alas! þat þe croun of ioy was cast vp-so-doun!
Þai toke Him of þe tre;
Necodeme he was þet one,
And Iosep of Barmaþe, þat hole mone;
Þai beren Him to His tombe of stone,
Þer-in beryd to be.

Hora completore datur sepulteure.

At þe hore of cumplyn in graue þai cun Him bryng,
Þen was þe nobil body of Crist our hope of lyfe comyng;
Þai beryd Hym with blessid bamus, þe proph[e]cy fullyng;
Euer haue we His delful deþ in our hertis myny[n]g;
Here-of we schul be fayne.
When He had fulfillid þe prophese
Þat was sayd of Hym trewly,
Þe iij day He ros with gret maystry
Fro deþ to lyue aȝayn.

104

Has hororas canonicas cum deuocione.

Þese hole hours haue we in mynd with deuocion
And worchip we Ihesu Crist with þese meke oresoun,
Þat fore our sak with brenyng loue sofyrd payn and passioun;
In þe hour of our deþ be He our solacion!
Lord Omnipotent,
Fore þi hole passion
Þat þou sofyrd fore synful mon,
Þou graunt vs alle remyssion
To-fore þi iugement.

He þat þese ours wil say with deuocion
In reuerens and worchip of Crist passion,
And schryue him clen to a prest with contric[i]on,
God He grauntis him of His grace ful remyssion
Of al his trespace.
Þen ioyful may ȝe be
Aȝens þe day þat ȝe schul dye
To haue grace and merce,
In heuen fore euer a place.

15 Audite hec, omnes gentes: hanc epistolam scripsit Dominus Ihesus Christus manibus suis et misit in siuitatem Gazon vbi ego Petrus primum episcopatum accepi.

De epistola Domini nostri Ihesu Christi de die Dominica.

Now here þis pistil, I ȝou pray,
Fore Crist hit wrot with His oun hond,
Hou ȝe schul halou þe Sonday
Al Cristin men in euere lond,
And send hit to Petir þoroȝ his swete sond
To preche þe pepul with good entent,
And do ale curatours to vnderstond
Þat hit is Cristis comawndment;

105

Beleue þis euerechon.
He þat beleuys þis treuly
Schal haue grace and mercy
And no noþer securly;
He is þe child of perdecion.

Fore ȝe con not of God þis holeday
Kepe clene out of dedle syn,
Þer-fore Hys wraþ, syrus, Y ȝow say,
Schal fal on ȝoue false Cristyn men.
Ȝour enmys and aleans schal ouer ȝou ren,
And lede ȝoue to þraldam fore euer and ay,
Boþ ryful, rob, sle, and bren,
Bot ȝif ȝe kepyn þat holeday;
Here-fore ȝe wil be chent.
Raueners sodenly schal fal on ȝou
And wyckid terantis cast ȝou ful loue,
Fore gracyous God ȝe wyl not know
Ne kyndle kepe His comawndment.

Here-fore fro ȝou I wil turne my face,
And betake ȝou into ȝour enemyse hond,
And withdraw fro ȝou merce and grace,
And blynd ȝou boþ with schame and schond,
And drown ȝou within a lytyl stownd,
As I did Sodom and Comor
Þat þe erþe swolew[ed] to hel ground
Sodenly or þai were ware.
Haue mend, seris, here apon,
Be ware betyme or ȝe be schend,
And ȝour mysdedis loke ȝe amend,
And serue ȝour God; foresake þe fynd;
Þen schul ȝe haue remyssion.

106

Hwo-so-euer wil go, seris, truly
Into ony oþer plase, I say,
Bot to hole cherche specialy
In þe fest of þat holeday,
Or on pilgremage seyntis to pray,
Or vesid þe seke þat woful be,
Ore make acord and treu loueday
To bryng mon into charyte,
And serue ȝour Saueour;
Ellis I schal bete ȝoue with scorgis sore,
And send into ȝour place herefore
Sorou and sekenes fore euer more,
Swerd, pestlens, hongir with gret dolour.

He þat on any erand wil ryd or goo
In þe fest of þat holeday
Fore one cause he haþ to do,
Or schaue heerus of heed or berde away,
Bot go to þe cherche ȝif þat ȝe may
And hold him þer in his prayere,
Al euylis Y wil send him soþ to say
And chortyn his days he schuld haue here.
Beware, serys, I ȝou pray,
Or he þat waschis cloþis or hed,
On Sunday breuys or bakus bred,
Y schal him blynd with carful red,
Noþer haue my blessyng nyȝt ne day.

Bot my curse haue he schal;
Y wyl send sekenes and sorous sore
Apon ȝou and ȝour childer alle,
Þat ȝe schul curse þat ȝe were bore.

107

Ȝe vnbeleuyd pepul, herkyns more,
And schreud generacions þat nyl beleue,
Ȝour days schal be ful schort þer-fore,
Fore ȝe set noȝt by ȝour God to greue.
I am among ȝou euer present,
And synful men I wyl abyde,
Ȝif þay wil turne in one tyde,
Foresake cursid couetyse, enuy, and pride,
And here mysdedis betyme repent.

In vi days al þyng I made,
On þe Sunday Y rest of my werkis ale;
Þe same do ȝe, þen schul ȝe glad
Of ȝour labors boþ gret and smale.
Non oþer þyng do ȝe schal
Bot go to þe cherche to Godis seruyse,
Alse wel ȝour seruandis þat beþ ȝoue þral,
Non oþer warkis loke þat þai vse,
Þen ful ioyful schul ȝe be.
Ȝour corns, ȝour vynes, and creaturs alle
Schul bryng forþ froyt, boþ gret and smale,
Þat no þyng to Cristyn men wont hit schale
Bot pese and rest in vche cuntre.

Bot ȝif ȝe kepyn þis holeday
Fro Setterday at non, Y say ȝou þen,
Into þe furst our of Monday,
In reuerens and worchip of ȝour Soueren,
I schal curse ȝoue to-fore my Fader in heuen.
Ȝe schul haue no part þer-in with me,
Ne with my angelys þat with me bene
In þe Word of Wordis perpetualy,

108

Bot Y wyl send ȝoue here-fore
Gret fuyrus and leytis ȝoue fore to bren,
Al euelys to perysche ȝour l[a]bors þen,
Ȝour cornes, ȝour froytis, ȝour vynus, ȝour tren,
And neuer rayn schal fal on ȝou more.

Ȝour teþis, ȝour offryngis ȝeuyn treuly
To my prestis, I ȝou pray,
Þat seruen me in hole cherche spesialy
And prayn fore ȝou boþ nyȝt and day.
Hwo-so-euer his teþys defraudys away,
His froyttis in erþ defraudid schuld bene
And neuer se lyȝt bot derkenes ay,
Ne neuer haue ȝour lastyng lyue hen,
Bot hongyr in erthe among Cristin schal be.
Fore I kepe my dome f[or] vnbeleuyd men,
And ȝet I nold dampne hem þen,
My comawndmentis to kepe and ken
And foresake here synus and aske mercy.

Treule ȝif ȝe wil haloue þis holeday,
Þe rakkis of heuen I wil opyn
And multyple ȝou in me fore euer and ay,
Ȝif ȝe wil do after my tokyn.
And knouþ wel þat I am God alone,
And non oþer þer is saue Y,
Þat may ȝou grawnt remyssion
And ȝif ȝou grace and mercy;
Loke ȝe leuen treuly þis.
Amen, foresoþ, to ȝou I say,
Ȝif ȝe wil halou þis haleday,
Al euelis fro ȝou Y wyl do away,
Þen schul ȝe neuer fare amys.

109

What prest þis pistil nyl not teche
To my pepil, as I ham pray,
In cetis, in tounus, in cherche hem preche
How þai schal halow þe holeday,
To haue hit in memory fore euer and ay,
My domys apon my prestis schal passe;
I schal ham ponys treuly in fay,
Boþ without mercy and grace.
Bot ȝif þai techen þis pistil treuly
And make men to haloue þis holeday,
I schal ham curse in herþ I say
And in þe Word of Wordis þat lastyþ ay
And in myn oun trone in heuen on hye.

Þis pistil our Lord Ihesu Crist
Send into þe sete of Gason,
Þer Y, Petur, was made bischop furst
In þe present ȝere to-fore agoone.
Þat hit be trewe and leosyng non,
Y, Peter, swere be Goddus pouere,
And be Ihesu Crist, His honle Sone,
And be þe hole Trenete in-fere,
And be þe iiij euaungelistis, þis is no nay,
And be þe patryarchis and prophetus and post[il]us holy,
And be angelis and archangelis and Mary,
And be al þe hole seyntis in heuen þer be,
Þat hit is soþ þat I ȝou say.

Ryȝt as þe sun haþ more clerte
Þen ane ster of þe fyrmant,
So þe Sunday is worþear of dyngnete
Þen ane day in þe wik present.

110

Þat day mad angeles omnipotent,
Þe ix orders in heuen on hye;
Þat day Noys flod sesud verament,
His schip toke rest of þe hil of Armony.
I swere to ȝoue þat beþ present
Þis pistil was neuer ordent of erþle mon,
Bot transelat out of heuen trone;
Crist wrot hit with His fyngers alon
To warne His pepel lest þay were chent.

Fore He callis ȝou to His grace echon,
‘Cum to me fore ȝiftis, I ȝou pray,
Fore I grawnt ȝou remission,
And ioy and blis fore euer and ay.’
No hert may þenke, tung tel hit may,
Þe lest ioy Ihesus wil ioyne ȝou to;
Ȝif ȝe halou þe Sunday,
Ȝe schul haue wel without wo.
A! synful mon, here-of haue mynde,
Þat ioy hit schal neuer sees,
Bot euer endeuer and euer encrese,
And euer in loue, rest, and pes,
In ioy and blis withouton ende.

To þat blis Crist he vs bryng,
Was crucefyd on cros and croned with þorne,
And foreȝif vs oure mysleuyng,
Þat we han offendid here beforne,
And let vs neuer, Lord, be forlorne,
Bot graunt vs grace þat we may,
As ȝe were of a maydyn borne,
In clannes to halou þe Sounonday.

111

Lord omnipotent,
Fore þi passion þou haue pete
Apon our soulis when we schul dey,
And grawnt vs þi grace and þi mercy,
Fadur, to-fore þi iugement.

Meruel ȝe noȝt of þis makyng,
Fore I me excuse hit is not I,
Fore þis of Godis oun wrytyng
Þat He send doun fro heuen on hye,
Fore I couþ neuer bot he foly.
He haþ me chastist for my leuyng;
I þonk my God, my Grace treuly,
Of His gracious vesetyng.
Beware, serys, I ȝou pray,
Fore I mad þis with good entent,
Fore hit is Cristis comawndment;
Prays fore me þat beþ present,
My name hit is þe blynd Awdlay.

16

Incipit narracio quo Michel duxit Paulum ad infernum. Interogandum est quis primus rogauit vt anime haberent requiem in infernum, i.e. Paulus apostolus et Michael archangelus. Dies dominicus est dies electus.

Þe Sononday is Godis oun chosyn day
Þe wyche angelis in heuen þai worchipyn þore.
Gret sorow and dole here ȝe may,
Hou Mychael and Poule þay went in-fere
To se what payns in hel were þer,
And þer þay se a sorouful syȝt;
Herkyns to me now moy ȝe here
What payns to synful mon be dyȝt.

112

Because men nel not beleue,
Þer-fore hit was Godis oune wyl
Þat Mekel schuld led Poule to hel
To se þe payns, þe gret parel;
Þe soþ himselue he myȝt hit preue.

To-fore hel-ȝatis furst þai se þen
Mone an orebil brenyng tre
Hengyng ful of women and men,
Þat was a sorouful syȝt to se;
Sum be þe hed, sum be þe tungus treuly,
Sum be þe fyt, sum be þe hond,
Sum be þe membirs of here body,
Þat þai han sunnyd within herthe leuand.
Þe angel to Poule he sayd þen,
‘Þese greuyn God ful greuously
With al þe lymys of here body,
In lechory, slouþ, and glotone,
And dyed in det and dedle syn.’

Withyn þe ȝatis wen þay were passid
A meruelis fournes þer þai se,
Mone a synful soule were þer-in cast;
Iiij flamys o foyre stod on alye,
Of dyuers colours wonderfully;
About þat fournes vij sorous þer were,
Gret snow, gret yse, gret cold gresle,
Gret eddyrs, gret stenche, gret leyte, gret foyre.
Þen þe angel sayd to Poule treuly,
‘Þese were proud men, raueners echon,
Extorcioners, monslers, robbid mone one;
Satisfaccion in erþ þai wold do non,
And deseredyn treu ayrs vnryȝtfully.

113

‘Here þai schal haue here payns þer-fore
Fore al þe synns þai han don cursidly;
Sum wepin, sum waylin, sum gron ful sore,
Sum broudun, sum brennen, dissyryn to dye.
Hou dredful is hel here may ȝe se,
In þe wyche is heuenes without gladnes,
In þe wyche is sorou of hert contenualy,
In þe wych of wepyng is gret plenteuesnes,
In þe wyche þer is a brenyng wel
A þosand tymys an our about doþ ren,
Vche day an angel fore-smytis him þen,
A þousand soulis þer-in þai bren.’
‘Alas!’ sayd Poule, ‘here is gret deel.’

Affter Poule se an orebbil flood
In þe wyche mone deuelis bestis were in fuyre;
As feschis in þe se about þai ȝod
Deuowreng soulis as hit chep were;
A brygge was ouer þat gret water,
Þat soulis passud ouer after here meryt.
Mone an euyl moncion was ordent þer
As Crist in þe gospel reherse het:
Lygate faceculus ad comburandum similis cum similibus,
Bynd bundels to-geder to be i-brent;
Bynd spouse-brekers with awouters,
And ranegates with raueners,
And cursid leuers with here cumpers,
And cast ham in þe fuyre without end.

Þer Poule mone soulis he se
Þat were dround in þat watere;
Sum stod vp to þe kne,
And sum to þe armes a lytil laȝghere,

114

And sum to þe lippis moche deppere,
And sum to þe brouys oche day were paynd.
Þen Poule sykud and wept with gret doloure
And at þe angel anon he fraynd,
‘What soulis ben þese bene drownyd here?’
‘Þo þat stodyn vp to þe kne
Bakbidit here neȝtbore fore enuy,
And sklaundird hem in erþ ful falseley,
Þat loston here goodis, hir lyuus y-fere.

‘And þo þat stodin vp to þe armus
Weron spouse-brekers and leuyd in lechory;
And þo þat stod vp to þe leppis
Be þe seruys of God þai set noȝt by
And did no reuerens to Cristis body,
In hole cherche were euer changilyng,
And sayd here prayers vndeuoutly
And let oþer men of mas hereng,
Here-fore þai haue passyng payn;
And þo þat stod vp to þe elbow
At here neȝtbors harmes þay low,
Ȝif þai ferd wel her hertis hit slow
And of here losse were glad and fayne.’

Hole cherche is a house of prayere,
Þe ȝat of heuen Crist doþ hit calle,
To worchip þer-in our Saueour;
What-euer þou askis þer haue þou schal,
Ȝif þat ȝe bene in charete alle
And serue ȝour God in loue and dred,
No myschif on þe hit schal falle;
In al ȝour werkis wel schul ȝe spede.

115

A! synful mon, here-of haue mynd
In hole cherche noþyng þou say,
Bot with hole prayers to God ȝe pray;
He grawnt ȝoue grace boþ nyȝt and day
Him to serue þat al ȝou send.

Þen Poule wept and sayd in good soþnes,
‘Wo is him to þese payns ben ordent!’
Þen he se a plase of gret darknes
In þe wyche men and wemen wern in gret turment,
Þat etyn here tongis here to-rent.
Þen þe angel sayd to Poule treuly,
‘Þese were makers of mone with cursid entent,
With wrong mokerers, false mesurs, and vsere;
Þer, fore wo þai etin here tung
Fore þai foreswere ham wettanly,
On Cristis passion haue no pete
To part with þe pore þat were nede,
Bot holdun hit fast þai geten with wrong.’

Þen after Poule a plase he se
In þe wyche were mone damselse blake,
I-cloþid in blak al cresly,
In pych and brymston, fuyre and smoke;
Aboute here nekis were nedirs and snake,
Fore wickid angelus repreuyd hem þer,
With horns of fyre here heedus to schake,
And went about hom with hedus bere,
And saydon to hom with carful cry,
‘Cnow ȝe now þe Sun of God
Þat aȝayn boȝt þe word,
Þat ȝe han greuyd in dede and word
And slayn His creatours, ȝour childer distrye.’

116

Þen Poule he askid, ‘What ben þese?’
Þe angel onswerd without tareyng,
‘Hyle God þese con displese,
And kept hem not chast to here wedyng,
And slowyn here childer in burþ-beryng,
And cast ham to houndis in preue place,
In watirs, in pittis, about drounyng,
And neuer wold shryue hem of þat trespase
Fore dred of sklawnder and penans doyng;
So þe fynd he con hem blynd
With disperacion hem schame and schend,
Lest here mysdedis þai wold amend,
And broȝt hem ta euyl endyng.’

Þen after Poule he se moche more
Men and wemen on kamels rydyng;
Moch froyt þer was here face before,
To ete þer-of was here lykyng;
Þai myȝt not hit touche fore no þyng.
Þen þe angel to Poule con say,
‘Þese brekyn þe tymys of here fastyng
And wold not fast þe Good Fryday
Þat Crist sofyrd deþ apon,
Bot wastin here goodis in glotone
Fore fleschele lust of here body;
Fore þai wold not parte with þe pore nedy,
Þai schil haue hongir and þ[ur]st were-euer þai gon.’

Þen after Poule in plase he se
A sorouful syȝt, a hore hold mon
Betwene iiij fyndis in turmentre,
And gryd and wept with ful gret mon.
Þen Poule he askid þe angel anon

117

What maner of mon hit myȝt be.
Þe angel answerd him ful sone,
‘A neclygent mon foresoþ was he
And kept not obedyans he was bound to,
Ne leuyd not chast in his bode,
In word, in dede, in þoȝt treuly,
Bot couetis, prude, euer out of charyte;
To al payne ent domysday he schal go.’

Þen Poule he weppid with heue chere.
Þe angel sayd, ‘Why wepis þou soo?
Þou sest not þe gret payn þat beþ here,
Come on, with me now þou schal goo.’
He lad him to þe blak pit þo,
With vij selys was selid treuly;
Þer-in was care, sorow, and wo,
Stenche and al maner turmentry.
‘Stonde vttir, Poule,’ quoþ þe angel þen.
Anon he vnselid þe pit þore,
With a stynche gurd out a rore,
Al þe payns hit passid before;
Hit wold haue slayn al Crystin men.

Þen Poule he askid þe angel in hye,
‘What pepul in þis pit ben don?’
‘Þese beleuid not in vergyn Mary,
Ne treuly in Cristis carnacione;
Þai beþ vncristynd euerechon,
And neuer resayuyd Cristis body;
Al þo into þat pet þay gon
Of hem schal neuer be memory

118

On him in heuen to-fore Godis Son,
Fore hit is Godis wil specialy;
Of eretekis schal be no memore,
Ne false Cristin men, renegatis þat dyed curstly,
Of hom is no redempcion.

Þen after Poule forsoþ he se
In a wonderful depe plase,
As fro þe erþ to heuen on hy,
Vche soule on oþer couchid þer was,
For fader and moder þai had dispisid, alas!
Orebil wormys devouryd hem þere.
Þen Poul he herd a dolful noyse
As layte or þonder þat hit were;
Þen was he ware of a soule anon,
Betwen iiij fendes borne he was,
He rored and cryd, ‘Alas! alas!’
Þat euer his bode con forth passe
Without schrift, housil, contricion!

Þe angelis of God aȝayns him criud,
‘Alas! wrechid soule what hast þou done?’
In erþ, þe fyndis þem verefyd,
Dispisid Godis laus euerechon;
To-fore him þai red his dedis anon,
And cast him into derkens deppist of alle.
Quoþ angel to Poule, ‘Beleue vche mon,
As ȝe do in erthe so haue ȝe schal;
He haþ fre choys to do good or elle,
Fore vche good dede rewardid schal be
In erþ or ellis on euen on hei,
And vche cursid dede ponyschid truly
In erþ, in purgatore, or ellis in hel,

119

‘For þis schal be here ponyschyng.
Pride, couetyse, wrat, enuy,
Þese be þe brondis in hel brenyng;
Lechore, slouþ, and glotery,
Þen disperacion of Godis mercy;
Of al þe payns in hel hit is most,
Fore þai soȝt no grace ne no mercy
Bot synnud aȝayns þe Hole Gost;
Þat sin schal neuer foreȝeuen be,
To God hit is most hye trespace
To mystrost His mercy and grace;
So ded þat traytur false Iudas
And dampned himself perpetualy.’

Anon Poule a ioyful syȝt gon se,
A ryȝtful soule angelis beryng,
Þat oure was rauyschid fro his body,
Vp taward heuen þai con him bryng.
Þen Poule herd a voyse, a heuenle þyng,
A þousand anglis to-geder holy
Þat said and song in his heryng,
‘Be glad, blesful soule, perpetualy,
Fore þe wil of þi God þou hast e-don.’
Þai beryn hym vp before oure Lord,
Þen Mychael let him to gret cumford,
In ioy and blis to haue reward;
Laudes Deo þai song vcheon.

Þen sayd Poule with gret gladnes,
‘Wele is ham to euen may go.’
Þe angel answerd in good soþnes,
‘Þai schul haue wele without wo;

120

No tong con tel, hert þynke þer-to,
Þe lest ioy þat is in paradyse;
In heuen bene a þousand vnderde mo;
Was neuer clerke couþ ham deuyse
Þe lest ioy to mon God haþ ordend,
Fore þo ioys schul neuer sese
Bot euer enduyre and euer encres
And euer leue in rest and pese;
Þat ioy and blis schal neuer haue ende.’

Þen al þe sorouful soulus in hel
Þat were þer in turmentyng,
Þai crydyn, ‘Hole archangel Mechael,
Haue mercy on vs in payne bydyng;
And þou, Poul, belouyd with heuen Kyng,
To þat Lord for vs þou pray.’
Þen sayd þe angel with sore wepyng,
‘Prays with Poule, ȝif þat ȝe may
Gete ȝou grace of one merce.’
When he had sayd þis word, anon
Þay wept and cryd out euerechon,
‘A! þe Sun of Dauid in heuen trone,
Haue merce on vs fore þi gret pete!’

A voyse fro heuen answerd aȝayn,
‘What good dedes haue ȝe nov done?
Ȝe did me to deþ with passion and payn;
Hwy aske ȝe me now remyssioun?
I was crucifid on cros fore ȝou al-on;
With spere and nayles Y sched my blood;
Of aysel and gal ȝe ȝeuen me drenkyn,
When I was on-þerst hongyng on þe rode;

121

And I put myself to þe deþ fore ȝow
Þat ȝe schul euer haue leuyd with me,
Bot ȝe were proud, couetyse, ful of enuy,
And wold do no good dede, bot cursid treuly,
And false lyers in ȝour lyue as wel ȝe cnow.’

Þen sore wepyng Poul knelid adowne
And al þe angelis in heuen þer,
And prayd hyle to Godis oune Sun
Fore þe soulis in hel sum ryst haue þer.
Oure Lorde He made hem þis honswere,
‘Þroȝ þe besechyng of myn angelis alle
And of Poule, myn apostil, leue and dere,
Þis special grace graunt ham I schal,
Fro Setterday at non, Y say treuly,
And al þe fest of þe Sununday
Into þe fyrst our of Monday,
In reuerens þat ȝe here fore ham pray,
Þai schal haue rou and rest perpetualy.’

Þen al þe soulis in hel with one steuen,
Þai cryd and sayd with gret gladnes,
‘Þe Sun of God on hi in heuen,
We bles þi grace and þi goodnes,
Þat þou woldist of þi worþenes
Graunt vs þi grace and þi mercy
Oure gret payns fore to reles,
Vche Sunday perpetualy;
Here-fore we þonk þe Lord of al.
Wo-so-euer wil halou þis Sununday
Wele and worchipful, as I ȝoue say,
With angelis of God in heuen fore ay,
Ioy and blis þer haue ȝe schal.’

122

Þen Poule askid þe angel anon
Houe mone payns in hel þer be.
Þe angel answerd him ful sone,
‘Iiij. Ml. a C. and fourte;
And hunder[d] men þaȝ þer were truly
Fro þe bekyny[n]g of world ay spekyng,
And vche a C. tungis had, soþly,
Þai myȝt not tel þe payns in hel duryng,
Fore þai may not be noumbyrd treuly.’
Here-fore, dere breder þat beþ present,
Þat heren þese payns, þese gret turment,
Torne ȝou to God omnipotent
Þat we mow reyng with Him in heuen perpetualy.

Alas! þat euer one Cristyn mon
Wil not haue þat mater in mynd!
What schame, and chenchip, confucion,
Þai schal haue þat seruen þe fynd,
Þat here mysdedis þai nyl not mend,
And foresake here synnus and be sory,
And sen al day what chamful end
Þat hane þat leuyn here vnryȝtwysly;
To God þis is a he trespas,
Þat neuer on be oþer ware wil be,
And wraþ here God wetyngly,
Þat dyud fore hom on rod tre;
Þai bene a-cursid, syrs, in thys case.

Fore hel is not ordend fore ryȝtwyse mon
Bot for hom þat seruen þe fynd,
No more þan is a preson of lyme and stone
Bot fore hom þe lawis offend;

123

Cursid dedis makis men al day e-schend
And þeffys on galous on hye to hyng.
Þer ryȝtwys men þai han good end,
Þat seruyn here God in here leuyng;
Y pray ȝou, seris, trest wele here-to,
Fore he þat leuys here ryȝtwysly,
On what deþ euer he dey,
His soule neuer paynd schal be,
Ne neuer after wit of wo.

Meruel ȝe not of þis makyng,
Y me excuse, hit is not I.
Þus Mychael lad Powle be Goddis bedyng
To se in hel þe turmentre;
Fore I couþ neuer bot hy foly,
God haþ me chastyst fore my leuyng;
I þonke my God, my Grace, treuly,
Of His gracious vesityng.
Beware, serys, I ȝou pray,
And ȝour mysdedis loke ȝe amend
Be-tyme, lest ȝe be chamyd and schend,
Fore al is good þat haþ good end,
Þus counsels ȝoue þe blynd Audlay.

17

Hec dicit Dominus Deus conuertimini ad me et salui eritis. Nolo mortem peccatoris sed vt magis conuertatur et viuat. Quia Cananeum et puplicanum vocauit ad penitenciam et peccatum lacrimantem. Ita et vos venite et audite incredoli quod timorem Domini docebit vos. De misericordia Domini.

All Cristyn men, Y bid ȝou cum,
Ȝe vnbeleuyd, cum wyle ȝe may,
And þenkis apon my dredful dome;
Hit schal ȝou teche, hit is no nay,

124

Hou dredful þen is domysday.
In þe wyche nowþer grace ne merce is;
Þer is no saynt may fore ȝoue pray.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Ego sum Deus iudex et iustus et do vniquique secundum opera sua.

Þenke þat I am God ryȝtwyse,
And ȝif vche mon after his wark;
To my blissid I haue orden blis,
And to þe cursid dampnacion darke;
Leud and lerd, prest and clerke,
Þai schal be rewardid, y-wis,
Affter here dedis; þis word ȝe mark.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

The valey of wepyng þis word I cal,
I say ȝou, serys, foresoþ fore-hwy,
Fore al day in myschif of syn ȝe fal,
And greuen me ful greuosly;
Vcheon for oþer may be sory,
Fore anon ȝe lesin heuen blis
Sauyng my grace and mercy.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Nono veni vocare iustos sed peccatores ad penitenciam.

I come not to cal ryȝtwys men
To penans, as I ȝou say,
Bot þos þat in erþ synful bene,
Hem I clepe boþ nyȝt and day,
With disese and sekenes, ȝif þat I may
Make ham to mend þai done amys;
Cum to me now I ȝou pray.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

125

Magis gaudium est in celo super vnum.

For þer is more ioy i-wys
Of a synner þat foresakis his syn
And wil mend he doþ amys,
Þen iiij sc[ore] of ryȝtwys men,
Fore hom [þer] is no medesyne;
Bot he þat in soule seke he is,
Hom I clepe to my grace þen.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Tradide me ipsum pro vobis ad mortem vt mecum.

Fourte days fore ȝou I fast
To fulfil my Fader law;
Fore my deþ I was agast;
I wist ryȝt wel I schuld be slaw;
And al hit was fore loue of ȝow,
Lest þat ȝe schuld fare amys;
My grace, my goodnes, now ȝe schul know.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Sic oportet vos ieiunare propter peccata vestra et pro amore passionis Ihesu Christe.

So fourte days ȝe schul fast
Fore loue of my passion, I ȝou pray,
In þe tyme þat hole lentyn last
Saue onle apon þe Sunnday;
In þe clensyng days hom fast ȝe may,
Þe fourte days to fulfil hit is;
Þis is my comawndmentis, hit is no nay.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Saue wemen w[ith] child, and sekelou men,
And laborers þat worchyn boþ nyȝt and day,
And pilgrems, and palmers, and ȝong childer þen,
Al oþer schuld fast as I ȝou say;

126

Ȝif a resnabil mele haue þai may,
Relegeus, prestis, and seculers,
Non excusacion haue þai may.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Qui cum jeiuneo visia comprimis mentem eleuas.

Fore, serys, I say þat bodele fast
Lifftis vp ȝour mynd to heuen on hye,
And visis and synnus adown doþ cast,
And getis ȝoue vertus and mede with me,
And putis away þe fyndis pouste,
And distroys ȝour iij enmys,
Curst pride, false couetis, and glotone,
And bryngis ȝou into heuen blis.

On aske Wenesday ȝe schul come
To hole cherche, serus, I ȝou pray,
And takis askis al and sum,
Fore þus þe prest to ȝoue wil say
Vmþynk þe, mon, þou art pouder of clay
And in to askis schal turne, i-wis,
Haue mynd here-on boþ nyȝt and day.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Fore clansyng days I do hom calle,
In hom to clanse ȝour concians
Of al ȝour synnus boþ gret and smal,
And schryue ȝoue clene with repentans,
And with good wil do ȝoure penans
Fore al þe ȝere ȝe han don amys,
Þen I wil withdraw my venchance.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Fore ȝe most nede do ȝour penans
In þe tyme of hole lentyn,
And schryue ȝoue clene of repentans
In þe clansyng days, ȝif þat ȝe moven,

127

To make a syþ satisfaccion
Fore al þe ȝere ȝe han don mys,
Fore þen I grawnt remyssion.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Now ȝe schul schryue ȝoue, I wil ȝoue telle,
Mekele to þe prest ȝe knele adoune;
Hele no þyng bot truly spel
Hov and were þat ȝe han done,
Hw[en], to hwom, ouþer God or mon;
Tellis forþ treuly ryȝt as hit is,
Þen þis is treue confession.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Iij þyngys longis to confession,
Beware, seris, now I ȝou pray,
Tru schryft of mowþ, contricion,
And þen satisfaccion, hit is no nay;
Neuer on without oþer be þer may;
Ȝif ȝe wil bryng ȝour soule to blis,
To heuen þer is no noþer way.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Trust ȝe not to esy penans
Þat þe prest inyoyns ȝou to,
Bot ȝif ȝe haue vere repentans,
And þynke neuer more so to do,
And make satisfaccion also,
Ellis þe pop asoylis no mon, i-wys;
To purgatore or to hel ȝe most nede go.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

128

Penetentes penitentes et non irritentes, si estis penitentes imitate mores corigite vitam et conuertemini ad dominum.

Bot ȝe haue very contricion
To me hit is a he scornyng;
Ȝour schryft is bot co[n]fusion;
Ȝe schul haue schame at ȝour endyng;
Bot ȝ[i]f ȝe change ȝour maners, ȝour cursid leuying,
And clanse ȝour consians of al malis,
To euel end hit wel ȝou bryng.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Ȝe þat foreȝete me in ȝour leuyng
And on my passion haþ no pete,
I wil foreȝete ȝoue in ȝour dyyng
And withdraw my grace and my mercy,
And ȝour good angel fro ȝou schal fle
And betake ȝow into þe honde of ȝour enmys;
Þen ful woful schul ȝe be,
Þat nyl not mend þat þai do mys.

Quia numquam peccatum diluatur nisi satisfaccio operis restituatur.

Ȝe curateours, wysely ȝe wayt,
Þat han mon soule in ȝour kepyng;
Enioyne ȝe not penance to strayt,
Lest ȝe slen mon soule with ponyschyng;
A pater noster with repentyng,
To send ham to purgatore better hit is,
And saue bode and soule fro peryschyng.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

129

Misedicordia et veritas obuiauerunt sibi, iusticia et pax osculate.

Ȝe þat sittyn here in my place,
Ȝe most haue treuþ and ryȝtwysnes;
Þen let treuþ, mercy, and grace,
And ryȝ[t]wysnes, take rest and pese;
Þese iiij sistyrs mad me pese
Of my vengans and my males,
Fore merce and grace hit ȝou mo[t] ples.
Nolo mortem peccatorys.

Qui sola contricion deluit peccatum.

Fore as possebil foresoþ hit is
With a tere of þyn ye
To quenche al þe synns þou hast do mys,
Ȝif fore þi synns þou be sory,
As al þe water is in þe se
To qwenche a gnost of fuyre, i-wys,
Fore to hom I grawnt mercy.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Dimittite et demittetur vobis.

And loke ȝe bene in charyte,
And foreȝif vncheon oþer þen,
And quetis ȝour det treuly;
Þen brekis ȝour bred to my pore men,
And ȝif ham drynk þat þorste bene,
And cleþe nakid þat nede is,
And harbare þe pore þat woful ȝe syn.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

130

Date elemosenam et omnia nobis munda.

And vysette þe seke þat in preson be,
And bere þe dede, I ȝou pray,
And cownsel þe vnwyse pur charyte,
And here my word when þat ȝe may,
And do þer-after boþ nyȝt and day,
Fore þis wil bryng ȝou to my blis;
To heuen hit is þe hye-waye.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Conuertimini ad me in toto corde vestro.

And turne ȝou to me fore one þyng
In al ȝour hartis with myȝt and mayn,
In fastyng, in wepyng with sorowyng,
Ȝif ȝe haue gon mys, cum home aȝayn,
Þen of ȝoue I wil be fayne;
And kuttus ȝour hertus with contrecion hit is,
Bot kutt not ȝour cloþis, let hem be playne.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Anima que peccauerit ipsa moreatur.

A soule hit doþ a dedle syn,
He schal dye in good soþnes,
Bot þe fader of þe child þen
Schal not bere his synns, his wyckidnes;
Be þe Fader of þe Sun,
[OMITTED]
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Þat for my loue han forsakyn þis word,
Þat nyȝt and day knelis on knen,
Þai pray for ȝou to me ȝour Lord;
Þen loke þat ȝe han here cumford,
And wit ȝe han not fare amys,
Fore in heuen I wil ȝou rewarde.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

131

And euer depart with þe pore
Of þe gracis and goodis þat God ȝou send;
Ȝe haue non oþer sycur tresoure
Aȝayns þe day of Iugement,
Ellis wil ȝe be chamyd and chent
When I cal ȝoue to ȝour cow[n]tys, i-wys,
How wordle goodis ȝe han spend.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Meche be ȝe aldyn to þe pore
Þat ȝe ȝeuen here one þyng,
Fore þat is ȝour trew truste tresoure,
Ȝe ȝif hit to me is heuen Kyng;
Fore þai get no more bot here leuyng,
And ȝe schul haue þer-fore heuen blis,
And þat lyue þat is euer-lastyng.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Fore þe pore schal be mad domysman
Apon þe ryche on domysday;
Let se how þai con answere þen
Fore al here reuerent, ryal aray,
In hungere, in þorst, in gold, wel ay,
Affter here almes ay waytyng;
‘Þai wold not vs vesit nyȝt ne day,’
Þus wil þai pla[yn] to me, heuen Kyng.

Date et dabetur vobis,
To my pore þat leuen in payne;
Dimitte et dimittetur vobis,
And þen foreȝifyn schul ȝe ben;
Querete et inuenietis;
Tare not to long bot cum betyme,
Pulsate et aperietur vobis,
Or I me ȝatis for ȝou tyne,

132

Ȝif ȝe wil one þyng þat is myne,
Petete et accepietis;
Here may ȝe know wel and sone,
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Take ensampil be S[aint] Martyne,
Þe nakid he cloþid with gret pete;
With his swerd he swapt atwyn
His mantil, and said, ‘Þis ȝif I þe.’
Anon in heuen he con hit se,
Myselue þer-in was cloþy[d], i-wis,
And sayd, ‘Martyne, þis ȝif þou me.’
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Þenke on þe ryche mon had no pete
On þe lazare ly[ing] on þe ȝate,
And þer he dyed myschifusly;
Þe ryche mon sterue in his astate,
Hes soule to hel hit toke þe gate;
Þe laȝar was borne to heuen blis;
Haue mynd on þis erle and late.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Þus I cal ȝoue to my grace vcheon,
Cum to me for ȝiftis, I ȝou pray,
And I wil ȝif ȝou remissiown,
And ioy and blis fore euer and ay;
No hert con þonke, ne tung tel hit may,
Þe lest ioy in heuen ȝe schul haue, i-wys,
Ȝif ȝe wil do as I ȝou say.
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

Ioy be to þe Fader and to þe Sun,
And to þe Hole Gost, al þre e-fere,
Þat in þe Word of Wordis to-geder þai were,
Þat now is, and was, schal be euer;

133

To þat perles Prince without pere
Be worchip and ioy in heuen blis,
Þat says to vs with so good chere,
Nolo mortem peccatoris.

18

Here I conclud al my makyng,
In þe merce of God, I haue sayd before;
God grawnt ham grace of good endyng
Þat done þer-aftir boþ lasse and more,
And let ham neuer, Lord, be forelore,
Þat prayn for Ion þe blynd Audlay;
Into þe kyngdam þou ham restore,
Vnto þat blis þat lasteþ fore ay,
In word without end.
Fore blessid be þai þat heren þe word
And don þer-after here in þis word,
Fore in heuen þou wilt hem reward,
Þat here mysdedis here wil amende.

Fore al þat is nedful to bode and soule
Here in þis boke þen may ȝe se,
And take record of þe apostil Poule
Þat Crist callid to grace and His merce,
Fore so I hope he haþ done me
And ȝeuen me wil, wit, tyme, and space,
Þroȝ þe Hole Gost, blynd, def to be,
And say þis wordis þroȝ His gret grace.
So synful a wreche, vnworþely
Y pray ȝou, seris, fore Cristis sake,
Ensampil at me þat ȝe wil take
And amendis betime ȝe make
Wile ȝe han space here specialy.

134

Fore as I lay seke, in my dremyng
Me þoȝt a mon to me con say,
‘Let be þi slouþ and þi slomeryng;
Haue mynd on God boþ n[yȝ]t and day;
Bohold and se a reuful aray,
Al þe word on foyre brenyng;
Warne þe pepul now, I þe pray,
Þai louyn here God ouer al þyng;
Aryse anon and awake,
Fore þus God wil take venchans on the,
Apon his pepil sodenly,
Fore pride, coue[ty]se, wraþ, enuy,
Fore God is wroþ fore here syne sake.’

Here-with I woke of my dremyng
And al fore f[r]yȝt I was afrayd,
Anon I barst on wepyng;
With-soroue of hert to Crist I prayd,
‘Take no venchanche, Lord,’ I sayd,
‘Bot send þe pepul sum warnyng
As þou was borne al of a mayde,
And withdraw þi wenchanse þat is comyng,
And grawnt me, Lord, þroȝ þi gret grace,
Sum good word þat I may say;
To þi worchip, Lord, I þe pray
To help mon soule þat hit may
Þat hit heren in hone plase.’

I pray ȝoue al in Cristis name,
Be ware, seris, ȝe han warnyng,
Fore I say soþ, no mon me blame,
God haþ me grawntid myn askeng;

135

He haþ ȝoue send a hye tokenyng,
And erþ-quake þe last day,
Þat domysday is nyȝ cumyng,
Fore to His dissiplis þus con He say,
I pray ȝou, seris, tent her-to take,
‘To-fore my dome þis tokyn schal fal,
Vengans fore syn my pepil se chal,
Werrs and pestelens, hungir with ale,
Þat fore drede þe erþ schul quake.’

A! þenke on mon þou art made of erþ,
In þi hert fore þou may quake;
Moche payn and penans þou art wele worþe
To greue þi God so fore þi syn sake;
Here-fore wo hit wil awake
Fore þe brekyng of Cristis comawndment,
Betyme amendis bot ȝe make
And seche grace to-fore His iugement,
Wile ȝe han tyme and spase.
Of al lordis be He blessid;
He wold not mon were lost,
Þat wil in His merce trost
And foresake his syn and s[e]che His grace.

Alas! in my hert sore I drede
Lest men beleue not fayþfully,
Fore to prechyng and techyng þai take non hede;
Here dedis hom demys ful opynly;
To bye and sel þay be besy
Bot feu to purches heuen blis;
Þai haue no trest þer-in treuly,
Ellis wold þai mend þat þay do mys.

136

Bot, seris, þer is cause;
Curatis þe soþ þai dare not say;
Þe soþ ȝourselue se ȝe may,
How þai lye in syn fro day to day
And been þe furst þat breken Cristis laws.

Fore and curatis lyued sprytualy,
Ful euel durst ane mon offend
Þe laws of God in one degre,
Anon þer-fore þai schul be chent;
Alas! our bischopis þai ben y-blynd
Þat to þis myschif þai cun not se,
Fore few þer be þat wile amend
Fore one corexion now trewly
Of hole cherche, I say.
I pray ȝou, seris, þat ȝe aspie
Howe contenwes lechore;
Haue he cordid with constery,
Leue forþ in syn þai may.

Few þer bene þat sechen soule hele,
Here-fore ȝe ston[d] in gret drede,
Bot mone þer ay sechen ryches and wele
Þat schal ȝoue fayle here at ȝour nede;
Y pra[y] ȝoue, seris, þat ȝe take hede;
Ȝe schul acownt ful securly
Fore al ȝour goodus withoutyn dred,
How ȝe han getin and spend treuly;
Foresoþ acownt ȝe schul
To-fore þat Lord þat ȝou dere boȝt,
Fore word, fore wil, fore dede, fore þoȝt,
Ȝour synys loke excuse ȝe noȝt;
Þat greueþ God most of alle.

137

Now ȝe callyn pride, honeste;
Whraþ, envy, hardenes,
False couetys, wisdam callid his he;
Lecheoure, a louer of lustenes;
Glotone, a felaw of gentilnes;
Slouþ ȝe callyn onest leuyng,
Þus haue ȝe cullord ȝour wickidnes,
Aȝayns Godis hest and his bedyng;
I say ȝou, seris, fore-wy.
Þus þe fynd he haþ ȝou blynd
Lest ȝour mysdedis ȝe schuld amend,
With pride, wraþ, couetyse, enuy ȝou schend,
With lechore, slowþ, and glotone.

Þenke to þe fynd, when ȝe were boren
Þer ȝe foresokyn þe werkis of þe fynd,
Ellis I lekyn ȝou to be forelorne
Bot ȝour mysdedis þat ȝe amend;
Þus Adam, ȝour fader, furst con affend,
And excusid him of þe appil etyng,
And sayd Eue, his wyf, so had him kend,
And soȝt no grace of heuen Kyng,
Here-fore God was wroþ hyle;
An angel with a swerd brenyng bryȝt
Drof him out of paradyse anon ryȝt,
Fore he had synyd in Godis syȝt
With pride, couetyse, and glotone.

Ȝour synus lok excuse ȝe noȝt;
He is aboue þat knowis ale,
Ȝour werd, ȝour wil, ȝour dede, ȝour þoȝt;
Ȝe wot neuer when He wil on ȝou calle,
Fore at His bar stond ȝe schal;
Ȝour consians schal cuse ȝouere cursid leuyng
And al ȝour dedis boþ gret and smale;
Þer schul ȝe here a hard rekenyng,

138

Be ware, seris, here-by.
Anon schryue ȝoue of ȝour syn
Be frelte ȝif ȝe fal þer-in,
Fore þe fynd he takis ȝoue in his gren
With pride, couety[s], and glotony.

Fore he þat wil himself here lowe,
And foresake his syn and be sory,
And to þe prest him schryue and chewe,
And do his penans dewoutly,
He neuer repreuyd schal be
When he is callid to his rekenyng,
Fore God haþ foreȝeuen him þroȝt His merce,
Here in herþ in his leuyng,
Þroȝ His special grace.
He wil [not] ponyche ȝoue ij þen;
Ȝif ȝe han don ȝour penans fore ȝour syn,
Ȝe schul neuer haue penans hen,
When God haþ foreȝifyn ȝou ȝour trespace.

Non est verior probacio quam oculorum demonstracio.

Þus experiens treule me tolde
Þat walkis amongis ȝoue euer spyyng
What ȝe doþ boþ yong and hold
And al þe maner of ȝour leuyng;
He bede me in þe name of heuen Kyng
I schuld not spare þe soþ to say,
Ne fauer ȝoue with no false flateryng,
Þat nyȝ hand is domysday,
Fore al þe tokens beþ e-falle;
Þus sayþ Luke in his gospele truly,
Þat domysday schal cum sodenly
When men in erþ ben most besi,
Þat neuer on oþer help þai schal.

139

Qui praemunitus non fallitur.

Reȝt as in þe tyme of Noye
Sodenly al þe word was drownd,
And as Sodom and Gomor, þat gret cete,
Sodenle was sonkyn to hel grownde,
So within a lytil stownd
Domsday schal fal treuly;
In Lukis gospel þus I fond,
Seche hit, serys, and ȝe may se.
Here-fore beþ rede nyȝt and day;
Alas! ȝe dred not God to greue;
Alas! ȝe bene false in ȝour beleue;
Alas! ȝour dedis þay don ȝoue preue;
Alas! alas! and a waylaway!

Alas! swerde and pestelens al day doth falle;
Beware lest froytis withdrawn be;
Alas! erþ-quake is comen with al;
Alas! amend ȝow pur charyte;
Þese tokyns fro þe heuen ȝe se
Þat God sendis ȝoue in fayre war;
Alas! bot fewe ware . . .
Alas! for . . .
Alas! þus sayþ þe profece,
Was neuer more better purchesyng
Þen schal be aȝayns Cristis cumyng,
Ne neuer alf so cursid leuyng;
Here-for þis word God wil distroye.

Alas! þat ȝe con not beleue
Þat ȝe felyn and se with syȝt.
Hou lytil a þyng a mon may greue!
When one sekenes is on him liȝt,

140

Anon he has lost al his myȝt,
Þen ard on Crist wil he cry;
Fore payne and deþ he is a-fryȝt;
Al wordle good he settis noȝt by.
A! þynke on þis, þou synful mon;
In wele be ware or þou be wo,
And þynk weder þat þou wilt go
To hel or heuen, on of þo,
Fore oþer ioyse is þer non.

Fore to lye I haue no lust,
Fore ȝif I did I schuld hit rew;
Bot to þis tale treule ȝe tryst
Fore wil I wot þat is trew;
Þe soþ I wold, seris, þat ȝe knewe;
At ȝour concians take knowlescheng;
Among Cristyn men þer be to fewe
Þat louyn here God ouer al þyng,
And as amselue here trew neȝtboure.
Fore al þe lawys of our Lord,
In þis two comawndmentis hengus vche worde;
Here-fore al þe wo of þis worde
Is fore we kepe not þe wyl of ȝour Sauyour.

Al Cristin men, Y cownsel ȝoue
Þat ȝe wil do as Y ȝoue say,
Þen in ȝore conseans ȝe schul wele know,
Þat schal ȝoue deme at domysday,
Weder hit be soþ ore ellis nay:
Ȝif hit be trew at ȝour wittyng
Þen doþ þer-after, I ȝoue pray,
And louys ȝour God ouer al þyng;

141

Y hwolde hit for þe best.
I rede ȝe louen heuen Kyng
And ȝour neȝtbore fore one þyng,
Fore one lost ore lykyng,
Þen, seris, al ȝe beþ e-blest.

I wot ryȝt wel I schal be chent
Of Godis enmys, hit is no nay,
Fore to þe treuþ þai take no tent;
Þe soþ fore hem Y dar not say;
Here-fore þe fynd he wil hem fray,
Fore þay cal trew Cristyn men lollard,
Þat kepyn Cristis comawndmentis nyȝt and day,
And don Godis wil in dede and worde.
Aȝayns ham I take Crist to wytnes;
Here is non error ne lollardre,
Bot pistil and gospel, þe sauter treuly;
I take witnes of þe treue clargy
Þat han Godis lauys fore to redres.

Ȝet I wil say more ȝif I bere grame,
Fore wele I wot þat hit is trewe,
Fore hole wryt ȝe may not blame,
Nowþer þe hold lawe ne þe newe;
God ȝif ȝou grace ȝour synnys excuse;
Þe treuþ to preche men may be bold
Ore ellis ȝe curatis ȝe schul sore rew,
Þat han þe kepyng of Cristis folde
In hole cherche, in heuere place,
Fore to curatis sayþ Saynt Gregory,
Þai schul onswere treuly
Fore mons soule specialy
At domusday to-fore Crystis face.

142

Of al þe createurs þat euer God mad
Mon soule was most pressious,
A prynt of þe Trenete þat neuer schal fade,
Partener and eyre of euen blis;
Al erþele þyng hit schal vanysche;
Into þe erþ we schul be broȝt;
Þou getist no more with þe, i-wys,
Saue good werd, good wil, good dede, good þoȝt;
Fore þese iiij specialy
In heuen þou schalt haue ioy and blis,
After þi merit haue mede, i-wis;
Be ware, seris, fore nede hit is
Lest bode and soule ȝe distroy.

Fore God mon soule he haþ betake
To curaturs in ilke lond
To kepe hem wel fore His loue sake;
He wil hem seche out of here hond,
Fore to His face þai schal stond
And ȝild þer a hard rekynyng
Fore euere soule boþ fre and bond,
Ȝif one be peryschid þroȝ here kepyng;
Fore God haþ grawnt ȝoue His pouere,
Be þe vertu of þe sacrement,
To asoyle al þat wil repent,
And chryue ham clene with good entent,
And do here penans wyle þai bene here.

Þen ȝif ane fal þroȝ here frelte
In ane maner dedle syn,
What maner man þat euer hit be,
Anon corect im as law wil þen,
And take no mede of no maner men;
Fore opyn syn ȝif opin penans;
In þe decretals þer ȝe may sene,
Hit is Godis law, His ordenans,

143

Þat ȝe schul bryng mon soule to blis;
Fore treuly þe pepil ȝe schuld telle,
And warne ham of þe payne of helle,
And to put hem out of þe parel,
And make ame amend þat þai d[o]n mys.

Fore a hole curate he schal haue
In heuen coronacion
Fore euere soule þat he doþ saue
And bryngis ham to saluacion;
And oþer schul haue confucion,
Vnder fyndis of hel turmentre,
Þat bryngþ mon soule to dampnacion
Þroȝ euyl ensampil in prestis þay se.
Þus Ion Belet he gon ȝoue tele
How mon soule þat ȝe schuld saue;
No spot of syn ȝe schuld haue;
Alas! I trow now þat ȝe raue
Fore ȝe dred nowþer heuen ne hel.

Ȝe prestis, I pray ȝoue take good kepe,
Þat mas ne matens nyl say ne syng;
Ȝe depreuyn þe Trenete of His worchip,
And al sayntis in heuen with Him dwellyng,
And al Cristin soulis in payne bydyng
Affter ȝour prayors in purgatory,
And al ȝour god-doers of here helpyng;
Alas! þis is a gret pete,
To God and mon a hye trespace,
To take ȝour hoyre, ȝour salare,
Bot ȝif ȝe leuyn spyretwaly,
And sayne ȝour seruyse dewoutly;
Ȝ ben Godis traytors in þis case.

Dissyre ȝe nowþer wyke ne dede;
Beþ hole prestis in ȝour le[u]yng;
In trust þer schuld be no falsode;
Men in ȝour prayours þai bene hopyng;

144

Ellis schuld ȝe ȝild ard rekenyng
Fore ȝour hoyre, ȝour selare,
Mon soule to blis bot ȝe hit bryng
With ȝour prayors specialy,
Fore God haþ ȝeuen þe pouere
To be mens betwene God and mon;
Þat al day aȝayns His laus þai don,
To get ham grace, remyssion,
Þroȝ here halmys and ȝour prayere.

Fore oche day ȝe spekyn with Crist asyt,
When ȝe dewotle to Him pray,
And ȝif ȝe reden in hole wryt
He spekis to ȝoue, hit is no nay;
Remembyr ȝoue prestis, I ȝou pray,
And say ȝour seruys dewoutly,
Þen þe soþe þer se ȝe may;
Ȝif þat ȝe wil not þen leue me,
Thys ensampul, Y pray ȝow, leue;
Ȝif ȝe schuld do omache to a kyng
Ȝe most with reuerens adown knelyng
Say ȝour mesache without faylyng,
Ellis þat lord wil ȝoue repreue.

Fore wyle hert worchipis noȝt,
Þe tong foresoþ labors in vayne;
Haue mynd on Him þat ȝoue dere boȝt,
Þat sofyrd boþ passion and payne,
Fore Him to plese ȝe schuld be fayne;
And in ȝour prayers specialy
Haue mend on hom fore hom ȝe prayne,
I pray ȝou, seris, fore charyte;
I say ȝou, breder, in Cristis name,
To me hit were a hy slawnder
To lye apon my blessid breder;
Y wold ȝoue fayne here forþer,
Bot ȝour wyckid dedus þay don ȝou fame.

145

A sad ensampil her may ȝe se,
I pray ȝoue, breder, haue hit in mynd;
Þaȝ I say soþ, blamys not me,
I blustur forþ as Bayard blynd;
Fore to Crist ȝe bene vnkynd,
Freris, and freel, false in ȝour fay;
Among men of hole cherche fewe men fynd
Þat worchyn wysely to wyse men þe way
Into þe courte of heuen blis;
Fore as ȝe techyn oþer to do
Ȝourselfe ȝe gon clen þer-fro,
Þus be ȝe wercher of al our wo,
Hent ȝe wil mend þat ȝe do mys.

Beware here-by, boþe frynd and foo,
A sad soþ I wil ȝoue say;
Þis is þe cause of al our woo,
We beleue not treuly in Cristis fay,
Ellis wold we dred God boþ nyȝt and day,
And kepe þe comawndment of our Kyng,
Þat wot neuer how sone we schul wynd away,
To hel or euen at our endyng,
Fore þer is non oþer ioyse;
And ȝet wil ȝe serue þe fynd,
To God and mon boþ be vnkynd;
Ȝe haue not His passion in ȝour mynd,
Þat dyid fore ȝoue apon þe cros.

I pray ȝou al, pur charyte,
Þat heryn or redin in þis boke,
Doþ þer-after specialy;
Cownsel þer-at I wol[d] ȝe toke,
Fore here is nowþer wyle ne croke;
I fauer ȝou noȝt with no flateryng;
Þe hye-way to heuen I wold ȝe toke,
To ioy and blis without endyng,

146

Fore oþer cownsel nedis ȝou non;
Doþ þer-affter þen, I ȝoue pray,
Fore to heuen þer is no noþer way;
Þen mere in hert be ȝe may
To go to þe way of saluacion.

Þe cownsel of conseans þis boke I calle,
Or þe ladder of heuen, I say fore-wy;
Þer is no mon may clym vp a walle
Without a ladder sekyrly,
No more may we to heuen on hye
Without treu cownsel of consians;
Clyme vp þis ladder, þen may ȝe se
What ȝe schul do to Godis plesans,
And weder ȝe wil haue wele or wo;
Clyme vp þis ladder, þen may ȝe se
What ioys in heuen þat þer be,
And what payns in hel and turmentre;
Þen chese ȝourselue weder to go.

Al Cristyn men, I cownsel ȝow,
No mon deme oþer specially,
Fore oche mon schuld himselue here know,
And deme himselue what-euer he be;
Fore a lytil mote ȝe con sone se
In anoþer mons ye þen,
Bot in ȝour owne ȝe con not se
Þat þer be fallyn in ix or x;
Alas! þus bene ȝe blynd.
Lest he be gilte in þe same
No mon be to bold to blame,
Bot vche mon mend hymselue fore chame;
Ȝif ȝe deme mys, ȝe wil be chent.

147

Nolite iudicare et non iudicabimini. Eadem messura qua messi fueritis messietur vobis.

Fore Crist sayþ, þe same mesere
Þat ȝe metin to oþer men,
Þe same ȝe schul haue to ȝour hoyre,
Ouþer ioy, or fuyre þat euer schal bren;
Ȝe wot neuer what day ne wen
Ȝe schul be callid to ȝour rekenyng;
Ryȝt as ȝe demon oþer men
Ȝe schul be dampnyd at ȝour endyng;
In þe gospel þus wretyn hit is.
To þis ensampil takys good ȝeme:
Vche mon his dedis þai schul him deme,
Þen be seche as ȝe schuld deme,
And deme ȝe neuer on oþer amys.

Takis no venchans, þis Crist forebede;
Ȝour venians ȝe schul ȝif to me,
Fore I wil elde vche mon after his mede,
In euere state what-euer he be;
What cyte or rem devidid ȝe se,
Hit schal be distroyd, wretyn hit is,
Bot ȝif ȝe leue in charyte,
And foreȝif vcheon oþer ȝe don amys;
Þus in þis gospel wretyn I fynd,
He þat louys here rust and pese,
He is Godis child without lese,
And he þat sterys debate with his males,
Þai be þe chylder of þe fynd.

To þe Trenete I me recomend,
Þat al þis word at His wil wroȝt,
Þat myȝt and grace He haþ me send,
And to Crist His Sun þat me dere boȝt,

148

And to þe Hole Gost foreȝete I noȝt,
Fore Him I þonke specialy,
Þat wit and wysdam to me haþ broȝt
To foresake my syn and my foly,
In þis word here leuyng.
To haue my payne, my purgatory,
Out of þis word or þat I dy;
A! gracyus God, gramarsy,
To grawnt me grace of good endyng.

As I lay seke in my langure
In an abbay here be west,
Þis boke I made with gret-dolour
When I myȝt not slep ne haue no rest;
Offt with my prayers I me blest,
And sayd hile to heuen Kyng,
‘I knowlache, Lord, hit is þe best
Mekele to take þi vesetyng,
Ellis wot I wil þat I were lorne.
Of al lordis be He blest,
Fore al þat ȝe done is fore þe best,
Fore in þi defawte was neuer mon lost,
Þat is here of womon borne.’

Meruel ȝe not of þis makyng
Fore I me excuse, hit is not I;
Þis was þe Hole Gost wercheng,
Þat sayd þese wordis so fayþfully,
Fore I quoþ neuer bot hye foly;
God haþ me chastyst fore my leuyng;
I þong my God, my Grace, treuly,
Fore His gracious vesityng;

149

Be ware, seris, I ȝoue pray,
Fore I mad þis with good entent,
In þe reuer[en]s of God omnipotent;
Prays fore me þat beþ present,
My name is Ion, þe blynd Awdlay.

Finito libro: sit laus et gloria. Christo liber vocatur: concilium conciencie, sic nominatur Aut scala celi: et vita salutis eterni. Iste liber fuit compositus per Johannem Awdelay capellanum qui fuit secus et surdus in sua visitacione. Ad honorem domini nostri Jhesu Christi. Et ad exemplum aliorum in monasterio de Haghmon. Anno domini millesimo cccc visecimo vj. Cuius anime propicietur deus Amen.

19

Hic incipiunt salutaciones beate Marie virginis. Hic transire caue nisi primo dicis aue. Sint semper sine ve qui michi dicit aue.

Hayle! Mare to þe I say;
Hayle! ful of grace, God is with þe;
Ha[y]le! blessid mot þou be, þou swete may,
Hayle! among al wemen so mot hit be;
Hayle! blessid be þe froyt of þi body;
Hayle! þe Hole Gost þe lyȝt withyn;
Hayle! þe moder of Crist þou art trewly;
Hayle! þou bare swe[t] Ihesus, amen.
Hayle! mayd, hayle! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þe grace þat þus con þe grete.

Hayle! mayd merceful, hayle! fayryst of face,
Hayle! ale our hope of help al hone,
Hayle! meke, hayle! myld, myȝtfulst of grace,
Hayle! solans and socur to synful mon,
Hayle! vergyn, hayle! moder to Crist, Godis Son,

150

Hayle! ȝe dysseruydyn, I say, honly,
To be a moder vnknowyn to mon,
Hayle! and to ȝef þi Sun sowke so mervesly;
Hayle! mayd, hayle! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus can þe grete.

Hayle! quene and empers of angelis ale,
Hayle! cumfordor of wreschis y-wis,
Hayle! cumford me ȝif I in sorow fale,
Hayle! fore my synns þat styyng is;
Ha[yl]! socore me in al synnys;
Hayle! ȝif not þi worchip fro me away;
Haile! moder of merce, hayl! makeles,
Hayle! quene of heuen, I þe pray;
Hayle! maid and moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus gan þe grete.

Hayle! gracyous lady, excuse ȝe me
To Crist, þi Sune, þou swete may.
Hayle! I drede His wraþ in hert hyle;
Hayle! I trembil fore fere boþ nyȝt and day;
Hayle! I haue synyd to Him I say;
Hayle! vergyn Mary, wil not ȝe
Be wroþ with me fore euer and ay?
Hayle! ful of heuenle grace and of pete;
Hayle! mayd, hayle! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus con þe grete.

Hayle! be ȝe keper of hort myn;
Hayle! with dred of God marke ȝe me;
Hayle! ȝif me lyue of consians clene
And al [m]oner of oneste.
Hayle! grawnt me gra[ce] my synnus to fle,

151

Hayle! fore to loue al ryȝtwysnes;
Hayle! vergen swete, blest mot ȝe be;
Hayle! seche anoþer was neuer, ne is;
Hayle! maid, hayle! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus con þe grete.

Hayle! among al wemen þat euer were bore,
Hayle! þi Sun maker of al þyng,
Hayle! He ches þe his moder hom before;
Hayle! þat Mare Mawdlen, þat synful þyng,
Hayle! He clansid here clene of here giltyng;
Hayle! He me þroȝ ȝour prayere,
He wype away al my synyng,
Hayle! fore loue of þe, His moder dere;
Hayle! mayde, haile! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus con þe grete.

Hayle! þe rose without þorne,
Hayle! medicyn of al our syne,
Hayle! pray þe Sun of þe was borne,
Hayle! He me saue fro temptacion þen,
Hayle! of þis word þat wyckid ben,
Þat steren me boþ nyȝt and day,
Hayle! euere our to dedle syn,
Hayle! saue me fro þe fyndis fray;
Hayle! mayd, hayle! moder, hayle! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus con þe grete.

Hayle! ȝif I fal þroȝ my frelte,
Haile! grawnt me grace to ryse anon,
Haile! lest þe fynd is myn enmy;
Hayle! bryng me into disperacion;
Hayle! grawnt me trew confession,

152

Hayle! and vere repentans,
Hayle! and ful satisfaccion,
Hayle! and fore my synys to do penans;
Haile! mayd, haile! moder, haile! vergyn swete,
Haile! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus can þe grete.

Haile! lad[y] for þi fyue ioys swete,
Hayle! þou hadist of þi dere Sune,
Haile! when Gabryel con þe grete,
Haile! and of His blisful burþ ale one,
Hayle! and of gloreus resureccion,
Hayle! and of His assencion meruely,
Hayle! and of þe ioyful assumsioun,
When angelis þe bere to heuen on hie;
Hayle! moder, haile! maide, haile! vergyn swete,
Haile! grawnt ham þi grace þat þus can þe grete.

O Ihesu, fore þese ioys v,
O Ihesu, þi moder had of þe,
O Ihesu, þat was boþ mayd and wyfe,
O Ihesu, so was no mo bot che;
O Ihesu, with al laudabelete
Þou crownd here quene, þat blisful floure,
O Ihesu, with alle onorabelete,
Within þi tabernakil in heuen toure;
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi mercy,
O Ihesu, fore þi moder loue, mayde Mary.

O Ihesu, þe Sun of þe Fader on hye,
O Ihesu, fore þe loue of þi moder,
O Ihesu, þat bere þe of here body,
O Ihesu, and fed þe with gret onour,
O Ihesu, bere þat blesful floure;

153

O Ihesu, our help to vs ȝe be,
O Ihesu, boþ solans and socour,
O Ihesu, to þe soulis in purgatori,
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi mercy,
O Ihesu, fore þi moder loue, mayde Mary.

Thaȝ I be gilte, Lord, I þe pray,
O Ihesu, þou haue merce on me,
O Ihesu, of merce haue merce I say,
O Ihesu, a rewere foresoþ bene ȝe,
O Ihesu, my synys away do ȝe,
O Ihesu, clanse my hert within.
O Ihesu, Crist of al pete,
O þe Sun of God haue merce þen,
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi mercy,
O Ihesu, fore þe loue of mayd Mari.

And grawnt me s[t]idfast hope and trew beleue,
O Ihesu, and parfid charite,
O Ihesu, and good endyng without repreue;
O Ihesu, of al ȝifftis blest þe[se] be;
O Ihesu, ȝet more grawnt ȝe me
Fore þe loue of þi moder.
O Ihesu, in oure when we schul dye,
O Ihesu, my soule þat He sokore,
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi mercy,
O Ihesu, fore þe loue of þi moder Mari.

O Ihesu, þen clanse my herte within;
O Ihesu, my soule þou take to þe,
O Ihesu, þat I may worþle þen,
O Ihesu, ressayue þi blessid body.
O Ihesu, þi wraþ greue hit not me;

154

O Ihesu, þi blod wasche me withyn,
Boþ bode and soule fore þi merce.
O Ihesu, fro þe fulþe of dedle syn,
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi merce,
O Ihesu, fore þi moder loue, mayde Mary.

O Ihesu, in þat our þat [I] schal dye,
O Ihesu, my good angel to me cum;
O Ihesu, mak him my keper be,
O Ihesu, to lede me to þi kyngdam,
O Ihesu, when deþ my body haþ slayne,
O Ihesu, þe secounde deþ toche not me;
When flesche and bons in erþ rotyn,
O Ihesu, my soule hit ryst with þe,
O Ihesu, þi grace and þi merce.

O Ihesu, when I schal ryse vp þe to se,
O Ihesu, at dredful domysday,
O Ihesu, me grawnt perpetualy
Ioy and blys fore euer and ay.
O þou moder of God, quene of heuen, I say,
O þou lady of þe word, of hele empers,
O þou moder of merce, I þe pray,
Þou grawnt me part of paradyse.
Hayle! maydyn, haile! moder, haile! vergyn swete,
Hayle! grawnt ham þe grace þat þus con þe grete.
I pray þe, Fadur omnipotent,
Graunt mercy to-fore þy iugement,
And alle þat don ȝow here seruyse.
O þou graunt hom part of paradyse,
Allmyȝty God, euer-lastyngle,
For holy Gabryel salutacion,

155

And for þy blesful natiuite,
And for þy gloryouse resurexcion,
And for þy merueles ascencion,
And for þe assumpcion of oure ladye,
And for þes ioyes and coronacion
Þat Mary, þy modur, heo had of The,
For heere loue to vs graunt ȝe
To haue forȝeuenes of oure syn,
And from alle sorowes delyuered to be
And to haue euerlastyng ioyes, amen.
Wel ys hym þat wil and may
Say þis prayere eueryday.

20

Alia oracio de sancta Maria virgine.

Haile! þe fayrst þer euer God fond,
Haile! maid and moder, haile! mayd fre,
Hayle! þe floure of Iosep wand,
Hayle! þe froyte of Iesse,
Hayle! blossum þat our bale vnbonde,
Haile! mans bot was borne of þe;
Haile! our beleue in þe can stonde
Whan Crist was raȝt on rode tre;
Hayle! rose on ryse, haile! lelle,
Hayle! swet, swettist of sauore,
Hayle! hyȝ princes of pete,
Haile! blessid froyt, haile! swet floure.

Haile! tabirnakil þe trewþ con tyelde,
Haile! garden þer grace gan spryng,
Haile! scheltyrne schours to schyelde,
Hayle! bryȝtnes euer chynyng,
Haile! ȝonkeþ þat neuer schal ȝilde,
Haile! beute euer duryng,
Haile! þi Barne in blis þi boure cun bilde,

156

Haile! grace and goodnes euer growyng,
Haile! fresche and no fadyng,
Haile! of charite þe paramour,
Haile! loue, haile! leche, haile! hie kyng,
Haile! blessid froyt, haile! swet flour.

Haile! praȝerys of þe postilis alle,
Haile! þe martyrs gladenes,
Hayle! comford confessours on to calle,
Haile! of vergyns þe clennes,
Haile! þe sun þat euer chyne schale,
Haile! maide of worchip makeles,
Haile! of worþenes þe walle,
Haile! perseuerens of holenes,
Haile! moder to þe norcheles,
Haile! to þe synful mon socore,
Haile! moder to þe helples,
Haile! blest froyt, ayle! swete flour.

Haile! quene of heuen ryche blis,
Haile! lade of þis worde wide,
Haile! of hel þe hy emperes,
Haile! fallere of þe fyndis pryde,
Haile! þe ioy of paradise,
Þi wil schal neuer be denyed.
Haile! angelis done þe seruyse,
Haile! perre patrearkis to gyde,
Haile! dissire prestis to abyde,
Haile! silour of our Saueour,
Haile! pardun þroȝ whom our pes is criud,
Haile! blessid froyt, haile! swete flour.

157

Haile! solans to ham þat bene sory,
Haile! to ertekes a waiful [w]iyȝt,
Haile! help to hom þat ben gulte,
Haile! hope to þayme þat grace is dyȝt,
Hale! wel of worchip and merce,
Haile! þi pete on vs þou pyȝt;
Haile! þou bildist ful besele,
To al þat leuen here in þi myȝt.
Haile! bussche, hayl! blase brenyng bryȝt,
Ȝet was not blemyschid þi colour,
Haile! berel þe blynd to lyȝt,
Haile! blest froyte, haile! swete flour.

Ryȝt as þe lele is freschist in hew,
Haile! beute passeþ as maydyns clene,
Haile! so vergyn, vertu and trew,
Þou worchipist alle þat euer han bene.
Haile! þe olde law and þe new
Opon þiselue hit was sene;
Was neuer bot ȝe þat monkynd knew
To bere a child, and maide clene.
Haile! dey-stere, haile! sauer chene,
Haile! diamand delycious of odour,
Haile! ryal rebe, haile! crownyd quene,
Haile! blessid froyt, haile! swete floure.

Haile! onex, haile! olif, h[aile]! vyne vertuys,
Haile! þe rose without þorne,
Haile! gresse on grownd most gloreous,
Haile! bryȝtter þen sun on somyr morowe,
Haile! gude gladle, haile! gracious,
Haile! hert þat with a swerd was chorne,

158

Haile! Ioseps wyf, haile! Ioseps spous,
Haile! þi breder þou hast e-borene,
Was neuer non seche beforen;
Moder and maid ys to honour,
Haile! helpe to hom þat were forelorne,
Haile! blist froyt, haile! swet floure.

Haile! chif chosyn charbokil stone,
Haile! ryal rygal þi reme to lyȝt,
Haile! aþamond þat God and mon
Þou drew into þi blessid bode bryȝt;
Haile! lyȝter of lymbo were neuer sun chone,
Bot darker þen þe myrke mydnyȝt,
Haile! glader of Adam and mone mo
Þat to damnacion þai were dyȝt;
V þousand ȝere þai se neuer syȝt,
Lyyng in longyng in here langure,
Abydyng þi grace, þi mekil myȝt;
Haile! blest froyt, haile! swet flour.

Þus haile to þe! þi Sun to send,
With haile! myȝtfulst of grace,
Þis word hit may not comprehend,
Fore of þi body borne He was.
Haile! medycyne þat ale may mend,
Haile! keuer in euere case,
Haile! tapere þat euer is tent,
Haile! lamp lyȝtand in euere place,
Hayle! most fayryst of fygure and face,
Haile! tabyrnakil of heuen toure,
Hayle! moder of merce withouton manse,
Hayle! blessid froyt, hayl! swete floure.

Þese halowne al þe sayntis in heuen,
Angelis, patrearchis, and prophet,
Þe postilis al with marters steuen,
Þe confessours with vergyns swete;
Al þat was made in days vij;
Vs aȝt þe loue, loue of grete;

159

When hellis and dalis þai schal be euen,
Þer bode and soule in-fere schal met,
When Ihesu schal schew his wondis wete,
Mare, þou be our mayne paroure,
With þese sayntis to haue a sete,
Her haile! blest froyte, haile! swete flour.

Explicitur.

21

Hec salutacio composuit Angelus Gabrielus.

The angel to þe vergyn said,
Entreng into here boure,
Fore drede of quakyng of þis mayd,
He said, ‘haile!’ with gret honour,
‘Haile! be þou quene of maidyns mo,
Lord of heuen and erþ also,
Consayue þou schalt, and bere with ale, þe Lord of myȝt,
Hele of al monkyn.
He wil make þe þe ȝate of heuen bryȝt,
Medesyne of al our syn.’

‘How schuld I consayue and gete?
No syn neuer I knew.
How schuld I breke þat I haue forehete
Of þoȝt s[t]edfast and trewe?’
‘Þe grace al of þe Hole Gost
Schal bryng ale forþ without boost;
Ne drede þou tak, bot ioy þou make, serten and sere.
Þis message He send to þe,
To dwel withyn þe ful pere
Þroȝ myȝt of His Fader fre.’

160

Þe angel went þie lade fro;
Þis womons wombe with wele,
Hit wax gret as odur do.
Þis blessid burþe of hele,
He was in here wome I wene
Þe nombur ful of moneþis ix;
Hent He out ȝed, batelis bede to al þ[e] flok,
Beryng on His chulderis bloo
Þe hole cros þat kene a knok
Vnto oure dedly foo.

Thys may bare Chyelde with mylde chere;
Þis Chylde bede kepe hyer chaast.
Goddus Sone heo broȝt us forþe and bere,
Ȝeffyng Hym wombe and waast;
Þen He blessud here sydus sere,
And so He did here pappus dere,
For þay ber þat þay nyst nott hwat. In law as we fyende
How þese werkus wroȝt arne;
Hit was aȝaynes al monkynde,
A maydon to ber a barne.

Make ioy, modir of oure Lorde,
Þat Cryst conceuedust cleene;
Angelus, men, and al þis worlde,
God pes and rest vs leane.
Mary, þy Son þou for vs pray,
As ȝe beþ ful of mercy ay,
And send vs to, and soo to do away oure syn,
And ȝef vs helpe of the,
Heuen blys we may dwel in
Afftur thys owtlary.

Explicitur.

161

22

Hic incipit psalmus de Magnificat.

My soule my Lord hit mangnefyþ,
Oure lady þus to here Sun con say,
Fore He me here gloryfyd,
To be His moder, vergyn may;
He haþ me chosyn, hit is no nay,
To lyuer His pepil fro þraldam;
Mangneficat, here-fore I say,
Anima mea dominum.

My speryt hit ioys in my God;
He is my hele, my sustynans,
Þat is so graceous and so good,
He haþ me preuelid to His plesans,
Fore to make delyuerans
Of al þat before our fader Adam
Had cast into cumbyrrans.
Mangnificat anima mea dominum.

Fore þe m[e]kenes of His mayd he haþ behold,
Lo! here-fore forsoþ I say,
Me schul worchip ȝou ȝong and hold,
Al generacons in vche cuntre;
Þat I was boren hit is no nay,
Into þis word þat I come.
Now mang[n]efygat, syng þai mai,
Anima mea dominum.

162

Fore He haþ made me gret þroȝ his pouere,
Fore-wy al myȝt in Him hit is,
And His hole name, when I Him bere
To bryng His pepul vnto his blis.
With His precious blod, i-wys,
He haþ here payd heere rawnson,
Fore to amend ye ded mys;
Mangneficat anima mea dominum.

For now His merce is knowyn ful wyde,
Þroȝ generacions in vche cuntre;
To al þat dreden Hym on vche asyde,
And sechen His grace and His merce,
And kepe here stat and here degre,
And to His lauys þay bene buxum,
Þe ayrs of heuen foresoþ þay be;
Mangneficat anima mea dominum.

His myȝt has made in His pouere
Proud men to sparpil from His face;
With þe mynd of his hert fere and nere,
Þat nyl not seche merce and grace,
Ne hem amend wile þai han space,
Þai schul be cast fro His kyngdam,
And haue no part within þat place;
Mangnificat anima mea dominum.

Þenke on Kyng Robart Sesel;
He went, ne lord had he bot he,
Ȝet sodenle downe he felle,
And was put into a folis degre;
An angel was set apon his se,
Fore he had þese verse in his scornyng,
Deposuit potentis de sede,
And sayd in heuen þer was no kyng.

163

Þus myȝte men God putis ful loue,
And meke men he liftis ful hye,
Þat His grace and His goodnes here wil knowe,
And seche His grace and His merce,
And no noþer sekyrly;
At þe dredful day of dome,
Here dedis schal deme ham hopynly;
Mangneficat anima mea dominum.

Þe pore and hongre He had fulfillid
With His grace and His goodnes,
And ryche men He am revylid,
And let ham ly in here lewdnes,
Þat trustyn al in her reches
And not in þe ioy þat is to cum,
Þai schal haue seche here as þai ches;
Mangneficat anima mea dominum.

Fore He haþ takyn vp Yrael,
Þat is child of ryȝtwysnes;
In recordacion He had eueredele,
His grace, [H]is merce, and His goodnes,
Fore þaȝ he fel þroȝ freelnes,
He haþ foreȝifyn ham al and sum,
And schal haue þat blis þat is endles;
Mangneficat anima [mea] dominum.

Ryȝt as our fader Abraam
Had spokyn to our fader beforne,
And to al þe sede þat com fro ham,
To multepli ham fore euer more,
Fore was neuer mon ȝet here forelorne
In his defawte in Cresendam;
Into His kyndam He wyl ham restore;
Mangnificat anima mea dominum.

164

Now ioy be to þe Fader, and to þe Sun,
And to þe Hole Gost, al iij e-fere,
Þat in þe Word of Wordis to-geder þai won,
Þat is now, and was, and schal be euer,
In wom hit is now al pouere,
Merce, grace, al wit, wysdam,
Þat is þat Prynce without pere;
Mangneficat anima mea dominum.

Mangneficat our ladi þus can say
To here Sun boþ leue and dere;
Blessid mot heo be, þat swete may,
And þat berþe when heo Him bere;
Heo graunt vs grace in our prayoure
Here to worshyp with hert gladsum,
With mangnifycat, wen we ben here,
Anima mea dominum.

Explicitur.

23

Hic incipit salutacio Sancte Brigitte virginis et quomodo Dominus Ihesus Christus apparuit illi corporaliter et dedit ill[i] suam benedictionem quod Awdelay.

Hayle! maydyn and wyfe, h[ayle]! wedow Brygytt,
Hayle! þou chese to be chast and kepe charyte;
Hayle! þi special spouse kyndle to þe knyt,
Hayle! he consentyd to þe same by concel of the
To be relegyous.
Hayle! fore þe loue of Ihesus Crist
Ȝe foresake ȝour fleschele lust,
Þer-fore be ȝe boþ e-blest
In þe name of swete Ihesus.

165

Haile! þe moder of God to þe con apere,
Haile! he[o] told þe of His passion and of His spetus payne,
Hayle! ȝe wepit fore wo to-geder when ȝe were,
Hayle! fore His dolful deþ þat so was e-slayne.
Oure lade to þe gan say:
‘Hayle! blessid Bregit, let be þe tere,
And þonke my Sun fore His deþ dere,
Þat has e-ȝeuen þe powere,
To be wyfe, wedow, and may.’

Haile! seche a kyndle coupil can no mon herekyn;
Hayle! ȝe foresoke reches and ryal aray;
Hayle! ȝe hopid hile in ȝour hert þen;
Hay[le]! al þe worchip of þis word wol sone wynd away,
Within a lytil stownd.
Haile! þis wordle honour,
Hit fallis and fadis as a flour,
To-day is fresche in his colour,
To-morow he gyrdis to grownd.

Hayle! ȝe betoke ȝour tresour to þe Trinete
Fore He is truste and trew without treynyng;
Hayle! He dissayuyd neuer no soule with no sotelte,
Hayle! fayþfulle þat ȝe fond at ȝour endyng,
Þe soþe fore to say.
Hayle! oþer tresoure haue we noȝt,
Out of þis word when we be broȝt,
Bot good word, wil, dede, and þoȝt,
When we chuld wynd away.

166

Hayle! with þese iiij feyþfully ȝe boȝt ȝoue heuen blis,
With good word, wil, dede, and þoȝt, to obey Godis bidyng;
Hayle! with þe werkis of merce ȝe geten ȝou mede, i-wis;
Haile! ȝe foresoken flesschele lust, þe fend, false couetyng,
Þat were ȝour iij enmys;
Haile! þai settyn al here sotelte,
Houe mons soule þai mow dystre,
With pride, lechory, and glotonye,
And cursid couetyse.

Haile! blessid Bregid fore þi benyngnete,
Haile! þe perles Prynce to þe con apere;
Haile! He grownded þe in grace in þi vergenete;
Haile! spesialy He speke with þe oft in þi prayere;
Haile! to þe pope He þe send
Fore to grawnt þe his special crace,
And to al þat vesid þi holy plase,
To assoyle ham of here trespas,
Þat here mysdedis wol amend.

Haile! He bed þe bild a plas o relygion,
Haile! blessid Bregid, fere fro one plase;
‘Haile! to Pope Vrban, to Rome, þou schalt goon,
Þat is my veker in erþ to grawnt þe his grace,
To haue þe same pardon
Þat is in Pet[e]rs cherche at Rome,
To al þe pilgrems þat to þe cum,
Þat vesid þe in Cristis name,
To haue playn remyssion.

‘Haile!’ He said, ‘Ȝif þat pope wil grawnt þe no grace
Without mone, or mede, becawse of couetys,
Haile! þe Fader of heuen schal preuelege þi place;
Haile! I schal conferme þi bul þat aboue him is,

167

Þat schal he y-know.
Haile! my moder, my sele schal be,
My witnes al þe sayntis of heuen on hye,
My blessyng þe Hole Gost I betake to þe,
Þe pope schal lout ful low.’

Haile! to þat perles prelat, to þe pope when þou come,
Haile! þou mendist þi mesage in a meke manere;
Haile! fayþfulli þat fader ful reuerenly at Rome,
Haile! he welcumd þe wo[r]þele with a wonder chere
Into þat hole place.
‘Haile!’ he said with myld steuen,
‘Welcum be ȝe fro þe Kyng of heuen;
Now blessid be þai þat in þe leuen,
Þat euer þou borne was.

‘Haile! meruelus maide ful of mekenes,
Haile! hele þe Hole Gost is lyȝt þe within;
Haile! God haþ grouned þe gemfulli in his goodnes,
Haile! to be sauer of soulis and seser of syn,
Be his ordenans.
Haile! I grawnt to al remyssioun
Þat chryuen hem clene with contrichon,
And wil do here satisfaccion;
I reles here penans.

‘Haile! to al þat worþely vesetyn þe hole place,
Haile! þat sechen þi socor, schal haue saluacion;
Haile! fore sake of þat Sofren þat þe to me send had,
Haile! in reueren[s] of þat Lord I grawnt hem remyssion
Of al here trespace.
Haile! to þi pilgrems perpetualy
Þat worchipen þi place graciously
With prayers, seluer, gold, lond of fe,
I grawnt ham þis special grace.’

168

‘Now gramarce, gracious fader, of ȝour blessyng I ȝou pray;’
‘Mi blessid suster Bregit, my blessyng ȝif I þe;
Here I graunt þe þis grace specialy I say,
Withowton mone or mede I make hit to þe fre,
Þis special pardoun:
To al þe pilgrems fer and nere
Þat vesityn þi place in good manere,
To here gostele fader I grawnt pouere
To asoyle ham euerechon.

‘Haile! to þat pereles Prynce, Bregit fore me pray,
Þat haþ groundid þe in grace and is þi Couernoure;
Haile! my blessid doȝter, þi blessidnes hit may
At þe day of my deþ my soule þen socour,
And ȝif me wil and wit
Mi mysdedis here to amend,
Out of þis word or þat I wynd.
To þe Trenete I þe recomend;
Farewel, blessid Breget.’

Þus þe pope preuelegd here place and haloud hit to Cristis entent;
Anon hure hole husbond a couennt to him con take,
And Bregit mad here of maydyns anoþer blest couent,
Þat foresoke here fleschle lust fore Ihesu Cristis sake,
In þe name of þe Trenete.
Þus þai disceuerd hem to;
Hure husbond to His bredern con go,
And to hure susteres heo whent him fro
To leue in chastite.

Haile! þus þis perles prelet fro þe passid away,
When he with his benyngnete had ȝeuen þe his blessyng.
Haile! at þe day of our deþ þat settis no day,
Haile! þen, blessid Bregit, our soulis to blis bryng,

169

And graunt vs þi special grace,
In erþ þat we mowe worchip þe,
After in heuen we may þe se,
In [i]oi and blis perpetualy,
Within þat blisful place.

Beside þe Chene, soþly, seuen myle fro Lundun,
Our gracious Kyng Herre þe v wes founder of þat place;
Haile! he let preuelege þat hole place and callid hit Bregitsion;
Þe pope conferme þer-to his bul þroȝ his special grace,
In þe worchip of Saint Bregit,
To al here pilgrems an Lammes-day,
And also mydlentyn Sunday,
Þis pardon to last fore ȝeuer and ay;
God graunt vs part of hit.

Mekil is al Ynglan i-hold to pray for Kyng Herre,
Þat so worþele our worchip in eueroche place,
Boþ in Fraunce, and in Breten, and in Normandy,
Þat oure faders had lost before, he get aȝayn be grace
And more-ouer speciali
To make soche a house of relegioun,
And to preueleche þer-to þat gracious pardon,
Al Ynglond to haue remyssioune;
Now Crist on his soule haue merce.

Was neuer a holeer order preueleged in no plas
Fore to red al þe rollis of relegyown,
Fore þai schal neuer schew no chappe ny fygure of face,
Ne without lycence or leue speche speke þai non,
Bot [þ]e warden be present;
Noþer fader, ne moder, ne no mon leuyng,
Schal speke to hom no erþle þyng,
Without þ[e] warden be þer hereng,
And know boþ here entent.

170

Redle þei rysun with gret reuerens oneþus out of hure rest,
Devoutele with deuocion here seruys to syng and say,
And crucefyen here caren and slen here fleschele lust,
With preue prayers and penans þe Prynce of heuen to pay,
Deuotle day and nyȝt.
Þai prayn to God specialy
Fore al þat þai here leuyng be,
In masse, in matyns, in memore,
To þat Lord of myȝt.

Fore hit fars noȝt be gostele goodis as doþ be temperale,
Þe men þat han part þer-of so lasse is vche dole;
Bot he þat delis gostle goodis, hit is so spiritual,
Þat vche mon þat haþ his part haþ fulle þe hole.
Ensampil chul ȝe se:
Alse mone men as may here a mas,
Vche mon his parte hole he has,
And ȝet þe masse is neuer þe las[s]e,
Bo[t] so more of dyngnete.

Pray we to God specialy to saue þat spiritual plas,
Þat þai obey obedyans þat þay be bound to,
Fore þay may þroȝ here precious prayoure purches here our grace,
Haue we neuer in þis word wroȝt so moche wo;
Þai han þat pouere.
Fore al þat here wele done,
Crist wil graunt hem here bone,
Þai wot neuer hou sone
He hers here prayere.

Crist þat was crucefid on cros and cround with þorne,
And ched his blesful blod fore oure syns sake,
Let neuer þis worþ lond, Lord, be forelorne,
Bot puttis doune here pouere þat werris wil awake,

171

And sese al males.
Fore ȝong K[yn]g Herre now we pray,
Þat Crist him kepe boþ nyȝt and day,
And let neuer traytor him betray,
And send vs rest and pes.

Al þat redis reuerenly þis remyssioune,
Prays to blisful Bregit, þat merceful may,
Fore hom þat mad þis mater with dewocion,
Þat is boþ blynd and def, þe synful Audelay.
I pray ȝoue specialy,
Fore I mad þis with good entent,
In þe reuer[en]s of þis vergyn verement,
Heo graunt ȝoue grace þat beþ present,
To haue ioy and blis perpetualy.

Amen.

24

Wenefrede, þou swete may,
Thow pray for vs boþe nyȝt and day.

As þou were marter and mayd clene,
Þer-for þou hadist turment and tene;
A princes loue þou myȝtis haue bene,
A lady of ryal aray.

Bot to þat syn þou woldist noȝt sent;
To kepe þe chast was þyn entent,
Þer-fore of Cradoc þou wast e-chent;
Anon he þoȝt þe to betray.

He was ful cursid and cruel,
And dred not God ne no parel;
Smot of þi hede; þou knelist ful stil;
Hit ran into a dry valay.

172

Þen Bewnou, þi nunkul, with gret pete,
Set þi hede to þi body;
Þou leuedust after merwesly
Xv ȝere; hit is no nay.

About þi nek hit was e-sene,
Þe stroke of þe swerd þat was so kene,
A þred of perle as hit had bene,
Hit besemyd þe wel, soþle to say.

When Cradoc ha[d] don þis cursid dede,
Þe erþ him swoloud in þat stede;
Þe foyre of hel hit was his mede,
Þer-in to be fore euer and ay.

A wonderful wel þer sprong anon,
Seche on se neuer Cristyn mon;
Þi blod was sparpild on euere stone;
No water myȝt wasche hit away.

Þer ben mesis at þat wel,
Þat bene swete and sote of smel,
And ȝet þer is a more maruel,
Heuenle bryddis in immens aray.

Be þe streme of þat fayre wel
Þer went a myl, as I ȝou tel;
Hit bere down a child with gret parel;
Þe wele stod stil, miȝt not away.

Þen þe moder cryd out and ȝeld,
‘Alas! my child he is spillid.’
Be þe ladlis he him huld,
And loȝ and mad gomun and play.

173

A mon a grote downe he felle
Out of his hond into þe well;
He se hit þen al oþer wel;
Þai myȝt not tak þe grote away.

Also þer was a gret maruel;
Wyne was couchid in here chapel;
Þe wel stod styl, ran neuer a del;
Hit trobild as hit had bene with clay.

Þer was no fuyre, treule to tele,
Myȝt hete þe water of þe wel,
To seþ ne dyȝt no vetel,
Wile þat wyne in þat chapil lay.

Þen þai west wel a-fyne
Of Wynfryd hit was a syne;
Anon þai hurled out þe wyne
Into þe stret on dele way.

Anon a merekel fel in þat plas;
A mon of þat wyne enpoysund was,
Þat was sauyd þroȝ Godis grace,
And Wynfryd, þat hole may.

Anon þis wel began to clere;
Þe streme ran forþ as hit dede ere;
Þe p[lu]mys þai mad a hedus bere,
When þai began to play.

Fore ȝe chuld make no marchandyse
In hole cherche, in no wyse;
God himselue He ded dispyse,
And drof hom forþ in here aray.

174

Fore hit is a house of prayore,
Hold hile to Godis honour,
To worchip þer-in our Saueour
With mas, matens, nyȝt and day.

Þer haþ ben botynd mone a mon,
Blynd and crokid, þat myȝt not gon,
Seke and sorouful mone hone,
Þer at þat wel there hur heed lay.

Þen Wynfred anon chorun che was,
E-chosun fore chefe to be abbas,
Fol of vertu and of grace,
And seruyd God boþ nyȝt and day.

Þen Bewnow toke his leue anon,
And betoke here þis tokyn,
Ouer þe se schal swem a stone
To bryng vestementis, þer ys noo nay.

Ȝif þat stone abyde with þe,
Þen wit wel þat I schal dye;
God of my soule He haue mercy;
Haue mynde on me þe[n], I þe pray.

Þen Wenfred heo knelid adowne,
And toke mekele his benesoune;
Þis monke he toke his way anon
Ouer þe se to his abbay.

When þat Bewnew he was dede,
Þe ston styl with here hit leuyd;
Þen anon heo prayud,
He schul pas on his chornay.

175

Son after Wenefred heo dyid þen,
At Schrosbere men dedon here schryne;
Mone a merakil þer haþ be syne,
Of dyuers pepul in fer cuntre.

Mone a merakil heo haþ e-do,
Presonars feters i-broke a-two,
Blynd and crokid helid mone mo,
Þat were in rewful aray.

Glad mai be al Schrosbere
To do reuerens to þat lady;
Þai seche here grace and here mercy
On pilgrymage þer euere Fryday.

Wynfrede, we þe beseche,
Now ryȝt with herfilly speche,
Þat þou wilt be our soulis leche,
Þe to serue, boþ plese and pay.

We prayn þe al þat beþ present,
Saue þyn abbay and þi couent,
Þat þai be neuer chamyd ne chent,
With wykkid mon, ne fyndis [f]ray.

I pray ȝoue al pur charyte
Redis þis carol reuerently,
Fore I hit mad with wepyng ye;
Mi name hit is þe blynd Awdlay.

25

Hic incipit salutacio Sancte Wenefrede virginis.

Hayle! Wenefryd, þat worchipful with þi vergenete,
Hayl! meruelus marter and merceful may,
Haile! meror of meraclys, our medecyne to be,
Haile! solans to þe seke, here soker I say,

176

Treuly in trouþ.
Þi grace, þi goodnes, I con not telle,
Þi merakels and þi gret meruelle,
Bot wo-so wil go to þi welle,
Þer may þai se þe soþ.

Haile! þou chese to be chast and kepe charete;
Haile! Cradoc, þe curst, cast þe in care;
Haile! he smot of þi hede without pete;
Haile! fallere of his foly fore alle his false fare,
Fore sodenle he felle,
Fore loue and lust of lechore,
To haue payne perpetualy,
With sorow, and care, and turmentre,
Into þe fuyre of helle.

Haile! þe blessyng of Bewnow þi, botynyng was be grace;
Haile! þat merceful munke sauyd þe mercefully,
Haile! when þi hed fro þi halse hent away hit was,
Haile! set hit saue and sound to þi body,
Þe soþ fore to sayn.
Þer was mone a wepyng ye
Of men and wemen þat hit se;
When Bewnow blessid þe gracyously,
Þou ros to lyfe aȝayne.

Haile! our Lord lenkeþ þi lyfe xv ȝere,
Haile! after þi hole hede hent of hit was;
Haile! Bewnow, þe blest, anon he þe chere;
Haile! þou were chosun to be chef, to be here abbas.
With hert and good entent,
Þou seruys þi God in þat place;
Ful of vertuys and of grace,
A good ensampil þou was
To al þi couent.

177

Haile! louer of þat Lord with laudabelete,
Preysere of His passion with pete nyȝt and day,
Haile! seruand to þat Soueren, I sai þe soþly,
Haile! he haþ ioynd þe to ioy in heuen fore ay.
Þre ȝiftis ȝeuen þe has:
A ston to e-swem ouer þe se,
Þe stonus in þe wel blode to be,
And al þat seche sokor to þe
To haue merce and grace.

Haile! þe kyngdam of þis word þou hit refusust,
Haile! reuerens, and reches, and ryal aray,
Haile! fore þe loue of Ihesus Crist hit þou dispisist,
Haile! him to loue, h[aile] hym to plese and pay,
Here-fore with gret reuerens.
Fore þou foresoke þis wickid word
Fore þe loue of þi Lord,
In heuen þou hast þi reward,
I-crownd in His presens.

Haile! to þat perles Prynce for vs now þe pray;
Haile! He was grownder of þi grace and þi Couernour,
Haile! Wenefryd þi worþenes I wot wele hit may
At þe dai of our deþ our soulis þen socour,
And put vs out of drede.
Out of þis word or þat we wynd
Oure mysdedis þat we mow mend,
Þat we be neuer chamyd ne chend,
We pray þe Wenefryde.

Explicitur salutacio.

178

Hic incipit oracio.

Virgo pia Wynfryda pollens in myraculis,
Tua presentia nos emunda a peccatorum maculis,
Et cuntis paruis vite defende peryculis.
Ora pro nobis, beata Wenefryda,
Quia per te est nobis gracia data.

Oremus collecte.

Deus qui beatam virgenem tuam Wenfredam post capitis absisionem tua potencia reddeviuam fyere precepis et fac nos quaesimus ea interueniente presente vite et future conueneante ad ip[s]isse[m] per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.

26

Quicumque hanc salutacionem in honore Sancte Anne matris Marie cotidie deuote dixerit sine dubio mala morte non morietur.

Gaude! felix Anna, þe moder of Mari,
Gaude! þou broȝtis forþ þat borþ þat al þe word con glade;
Gaude! þat here Crist Ihesu heo bere of hur body,
Gaude! heo fed þat frele food, þat floure þat neuer schal fade.

Gaude! felix Anna, þat bere þat b[l]esful floure,
Gaude! þat gracious graff þat sprong out of Iesse,
Gaude! þat blessid brange hit bere our Saueour;
Gaude! He growndid here in grace to graunt vs al merce.

Gaude! felix Anna, oure blis to vs þou broȝt,
Gaude! here þat al þe word, þat lade, heo gan lyȝt;
Gaude! þat maiden merceful, our wele heo haþ e-wroȝt,
Gaude! heo sauyd al monkynd fore syn to deþ was dyȝt.

179

Gaude! felix Anna, þe moder of Messee,
Gaude! þou consayuyst clene be Ioachym þat hole man,
Gaude! þat long tyme before baren þou hadist be;
Gaude! þou broȝtist furþ þat burþ was our saluacion.

Gaude! felix Anna, þou bere of þi body,
Gaude! þe moder of Ihesu Crist þat al þe word haþ wroȝt,
Gaude! þat fore our loue soche a deþ wold dye,
Gaude! with Hes pressious blod fro bale to blis vs boȝt.

Gaude! felix Anna, fore vs now þou pray,
Gaude! to þe quen of euen and to here blisful Sun;
Gaude! þis salutacion to þe here we say,
Gaude! þou graunt vs of þi grace to haue remyssioun.

Ora pro nobis beata Anna quia de fructu ventris tui est nobis gratia data. Oremus collecte.

Deus qui beatam Annam diu sterilem prole voluisti gloriosa et humano genere salutifera fecundare, da vt omnes amore filium matrem venerantes in hora mortis vtiusque precencia gaudere mereantur per te Ihesu Christe, saluator mundy, rex glorie. Amen.

27

Quicumque hanc salutacionem in honore saluatoris per xx dies continuo deuote dixerit, Bonefacius quartus concessit omnibus vere confessis et contritis plenam remissionem omnium peccatorum et hoc scriptum est apud Romam in ecclesia Sancti Petri coram altare saluatoris.

Salue! I say, hole face of our Saueour,
In þe wyche schynþ to vs an heuenly fygure,
An graceus on to se.

Salue! þou settis þi prynt on lynin cloþ of witle coloure,
And betoke hit Veroneca fore loue and gret honoure
Vpon here sudore.

180

Salue! þe fayrnes of þis word a myrrore of hole men,
Þat dissiren fore to se heuen spirit hen,
In heuen on hie.

Salue! delyuers vs fro þe bond o wyckidnes of syn,
And ioyns to þe compane of þo þat hole bene,
Fore þi mercy.

Salue! our ioy here in þis lyuf graunt vs of þi grace,
Ȝif we fal þroȝ frelte, foreȝif vs our trespace,
Lord, we þe pray.

Salue! led us to þat cuntre þat hole fygur in was,
Þat we may se of Ihesu Crist His clene, pured face,
Fore euer and fore ay.

Salue! we now þe beseche be our helpe in euere place,
And be our sokore and refyte and alle our solas,
Lord omnipotent,

Salue! lest he vs nuye grimsli, our enmy Satanas,
And graunt vs al þi merce in heuen to haue a plas,
To-fore þi iugement.

Signatum est super nos lumen vultis tui domine Dedisti leteciam in corde meo. Oremus collecte.

Deus qui nobis signatum vultis tui memoreali tuum ad infanciam Veronece ymaginem tuam sudareo impressam relinquere voluisti per passionem et crusem tuam tribue vt iam nu[n]c in terris per speculum in enigmate ipsam venerare honorare adorare valiamus vt te tunc Iudicem super nos venientem facie ad faciem se cum videamus Dominum nostrum Ihesum Christum filium tuum. Amen.

I pray ȝow, syrus, boothe moore and las,
Syng þese caroles in Cristemas.

181

28

Hic incipiunt decem precepta in modum cantalene.

A! mon, ȝif þou wold sauyd be
Foresake þi syn or hit do þe.

And loue þi God ouer al þyng,
Þi neȝbore as þiselfe I say;
Let be ȝour hoþ, ȝour false sweryng;
In clannes kepe ȝour haleday;
Leue ȝe me.

Þi fader, þi moder, þou worchip ay;
Sle no mon fore wordle þyng;
Bacbyte no man nyȝt ne day,
Fore þis is Godis est and His bidyng;
Leue ȝe me.

False witnes loke þou non bere;
Dissayte, ne þeft, loke þou do non;
Lechore þou most foreswere;
Here beþ comawndmentis euerechon;
Leue ȝe me.

Þaȝ þou be kyng and were þe croune,
Mon, haue mynd of þyn endyng;
Þe wele of forteune wil tult þe doune,
When þou art cald to þi rekenyng;
Leue þoue me.

Þou schalt acownt ful sekyrly,
Fore al þe goodis þat God þe send;
Howe þou hast geton hom, in wat degre,
How þou hast holdyn, hou þou hast spend;
Leue ȝe me.

182

29

De septem peccatis mortalibus.

In wele be ware ore þou be woo;
Þenke wens þou come, wheder to goo.

Foresake þi pride and þyn enuy,
Þou schalt fynd hit fore þe best,
Couetyse, wraþ, and lechory,
Ȝif þou wilt set þi soule in rest;
I say þe so.

Glotery, slouþ, al beþ acurst;
Þai ben þe brondis in hel brenyng;
Be ware betyme or þou be lost;
Þai bryng mon soule to euel endyng;
I sai þe so.

Aȝayns pride take buxumnes;
Aȝayns wraþ take charite;
Aȝayns couetys take largenes;
Aȝayns enuy, humelete;
I sai þe so.

Aȝayns glotore take abstenens;
Aȝayns lechore take chastite;
Aȝayns slouþe take besenes;
Here is a gracious remede;
I say þe so.

Fore His loue þat ȝoue dere boȝt,
Lerne þis lesson I ȝoue pray;
Haue þis in mynd, foreȝete hit noȝt,
Fore to heuen þer is no noþer way;
I say þe so.

183

30

De septem opera misericordie.

Wele is him and wele schal be,
Þat doþ þe vij werkis of merce.

Fede þe hungere; þe þirste ȝif drenke;
Cloþe þe nakid, as Y ȝoue say;
Vesid þe pore in presun lyyng;
Bere þe ded, now I þe pray;
I cownsel þe.

Herber þe pore þat goþ be þe way;
Teche þe vnwyse of þi conyng;
Do þese dedis nyȝt and day,
Þi soule to heuen hit wil þe bryng;
I cownsel þe.

And euer haue pete on þe pore,
And part with him þat God þe send;
Þou hast no noþer tresoure,
Aȝayns þe day of iugement;
I cownsel þe.

Þe pore schul be mad domusmen,
Opon þe ryche at domysday;
Loke houe þai con onswere þen,
Fore al here reuerens, here ryal aray;
I cownsel þe.

In hongyr, in þurst, in myschif, wellay,
After here almus ay waytyng,
Þay wold noȝt vs vesete nyȝt ne day;
Þus wil þai playn ham to heuen kyng;
I cownsel þe.

184

31

De quinque sensus.

Thy v wittis loke þat þou wel spende,
And þonke þat Lord þat ham þe sende.

Þe furst hit is þi heryng;
Loke þou turne away þyne ere
Fro ydil wordis, vntrew talkyng;
Þe laus of God loke þat þou lere,
Lest þou be chent.

Þe ij hit is þi seyng;
Þou hast fre choys and fre wil
To behold al wordle þyng,
Þe good to chese, to leue þe ille,
Lest þou be chent.

Þe iij hit is þi towchyng;
Worche no worke vnlawfully;
Goueren þi fete in þi walkyng
Toward heuen, and fle foly,
Lest þou be chent.

Þe forþ hit is þi smellyng;
To sauer þi sustinans sote of smelle
Let resun þe rewle in þyne etyng;
Be ware fore sorfet hit may þe spille,
Lest þou be chent.

Þe v hit is þi tung tastyng
Þi mete, þi drynke, holsum and clene;
Ȝif hit be luste to þi lykyng,
Þen mesuere hit is a mery mene.

185

32

De septem dona spiritus sancti.

God haþ ȝeuen of myȝtis most
Þe vij ȝiftis of þe Hole Gost.

Mynd, resun, vertu, and grace,
Humelete, chast, and charete,
Þese vij ȝiftis God ȝeuen has,
Be þe vertu of þe Hole Gost to mon onle,
Ellis were we lost.

Mynd makis a mon himselue to know,
And resun him reulis in his werkis alle,
And vertu makis his goodnes y-know,
And grace is grownde of hem alle,
Ellis were we lost.

Humelete, pride he doþe downe falle;
Chast kepis þe clene in þi leuyng;
Þen charete is chef of hem alle;
Mon soule to blis he doþe hom breng,
Ellis were we lost.

Haue fayþe, hope, and charete;
Þese be þe grownd of þi beleue,
Ellis sauyd þou myȝt not be;
Þus Poule in his pistil he doþ preue,
Ellis were we lost.

Þi fayþe is þi beleue of hole cherche;
Onle in hope God haþe hordent þe,
Good werkis þat þou schuld werche,
And be rewardid in heuen on hye,
Hellis were we lost.

186

Þen charete chef callid is he;
He cownselis vche mon þat is leuyng,
To do as þou woldist me did be þe,
And kepe Godis est and his bidyng,
Ellis were we lost.

33

In die natalis domini.

Welcum, ȝole, in good aray,
In worchip of þe holeday.

Welcum be þou Heuen Kyng,
Welcum, i-bore in hon mornyng,
Welcum, to þe now wil we syng,
Welcum, ȝole, for euer and ay.

Welcum be þou Mare myld,
Welcum be þou and þi Child;
Welcum, fro þe fynd þou vs schilde,
Welcum, ȝole, fore euer and ay.

Welcum be ȝe Steuen and Ione,
Welcum, childern euerechone,
Wellcum, Thomas marter alle on,
Welcum, ȝole, for euer and ay.

Welcum be þou good new ȝere,
Welcum, þe xij days e-fere,
Welcum be ȝe alle þat bene here,
Welcum, ȝole, for euer and ay.

187

Welcum be ȝe lord and lady,
Welcum be ȝe al þis cumpane,
Fore ȝolis loue now makis mere,
Welcum, ȝole, fore euer and ay.

34

In die Sancti Stephani.

In reuerens of oure Lord in heuen
Worchip þis marter, swete Sent Steuen.

Saynt Steuen þe first martere,
He ched his blod in herþ here;
Fore þe loue of his Lord so dere,
He sofird payn and passion.

He was stonyd with stons ful cruelle,
And sofird his payn ful pasiently;
Lord, of myn enmes þou haue merce
Þat wot not what þai done.

He beheld into heuen on he,
And se Ihesu stonde in His maieste,
And sayd, ‘My soule, Lord, take to þe,
And foreȝif myn enmys euerechon.’

Þen when þat word he had sayd,
God þer-of was wel apayd;
His hede mekele to slep he layd;
His sowle was takyn to heuen anon.

Swete Saynt Steuen fore vs þou pray,
To þat Lord þat best may,
When our soule schal wynd away,
He grawntus al remyssion.

188

35

In die Sancti Iohannis apopstole et ewangeliste.

I pray ȝoue, breder euerechon,
Worchip þis postil, swete Saynt Ion.

Synt Ion is Cristis derlyng dere;
He lenyd on His brest at His sopere,
And þer He mad hym wonderful chere,
To-fore His postilis euerechon.

‘Saynt Ion,’ He said, ‘my dere derlyng,
Take my moder into þi kepyng;
Heo is my ioy, my hert swetyng;
Loke þou leue not here anon.

‘Ion, I pray þe make here good chere
With al þi hert and þi pouere;
Loke ȝe to part not in fere
In wat cuntre þat euer ȝe goon.

‘I comawnd ȝoue, my postilis alle,
When my moder doþ on ȝoue calle,
Anon on k[ney]s þat ȝe down falle,
And do here worchip þer-with anon.

‘I pray ȝoue al on my blessyng,
Kepe ȝe charete fore one þyng;
Þenke what I said in ȝour waschyng,
Knelyng to-fore ȝoue on a stone.

‘Farewel, now I wynd ȝoue fro;
To Ierusalem I most goo,
To be betrayd of my fo,
And sofir payn and passiown.’

189

‘A! my Sun, my heuen Kyng!’
Oure lady þer-with felle downe sonyng;
Þis was a dolful departyng;
Þai toke here vp with gret mon.

‘A! my moder, my dere derlyng,
Let be þi wo and þi wepyng,
Fore I most do my Fader bidyng,
Ellis redempcion were þer non.’

‘Farewel my fader, farewel my childe!’
‘Farewel moder and maid mylde,
Fro þe fynd I wil þe childe,
And crowne þe quene in heuen trone.’

Swete Saynt Ion, to þe we pray,
Beseche þat Lord þat best may,
When our soulis schal wynd away,
He grawnt vs al remyssion.

36

In die sanctorum Innocencium.

With al þe reuer[en]s þat we may,
Worchip we Childermasday.

Crist crid in cradil, ‘moder baba;’
Þe childer of Iral cridyn, ‘wa wa,’
Fore here merþ hit was aga,
When Erod fersly cowþ hem fray.

Al knaue-childer with ij ȝere
Of age, in Bedlem fere or nere,
Þai chedyn here blod with swerd and spere,
Alas þer was a rewful aray.

190

An hunderd and fourte þousand þer were;
Crist ham cristynd al in-fere,
In [h]or blod, and were martere,
Al clene vergyns hit is no nay.

Þe crisum-childer to Crist con cry,
‘We beþ slayne fore gret enuy;
Lord, venge our blod fore þi mercy,
And take our soulis to þe we pray.’

An heuenle voys answerd aȝayn,
‘Abyd awyle and sofer ȝour payn
Hent þe nowmbir be e-slayn
Of ȝour breder, as I ȝou say.

‘Fore ȝe han sofird marterdom
For Cristis sake, al and sum,
He wil ȝoue crowne in his kyngdam,
And folou þe lomb in ioy for ay.’

37

De Sancto Thome archiepiscopo cantuarienci.

I pra[y] ȝou, sers, al in-fere,
Worchip Seynt Thomas, þis hole marter.

For on a Tewsday Thomas was borne,
And on a Tuysday he was prest schorne,
And on a Tuysday his lyue was lorne,
And sofyrd martyrdam with myld chere.

191

Fore hole cherche ryȝt al hit was,
Ellis we had þen songyn, alas!
And þe child þat vnborne was,
Schul haue boȝt his lyue ful dere.

Þer prestis were þral, he mad hem fre,
Þat no clerke hongid schuld be,
Bot eretyk or fore traytre,
Ȝif one soche case fal þer were.

Þe[n] no child criston schuld be,
Ne clerke take ordere in no degre,
[N]e mayde mared in no cuntre,
Without trebeut in þe kyng dangere.

Þus hole cherche he mad fre;
Fore fyfte poyntis he dyed treuly;
In heuen worchipt mot he be,
And fader and moder him gete and bere.

38

In die circu[m]cicionis domini.

What tyþyngis bryngst vs, messangere,
Of Cristis borþ þis new eris day?

A Babe is borne of hye natewre,
A Prynce of pese þat euer schal be;
Off heuen and erþe he haþ þe cewre;
Hys lordchip is eternete.

192

Seche wonder tyþyngis ȝe may here.
What tyþyngis bryngis þe, messangere?
Þat God and mon is hon in-fere.
Hour syn had mad bot fyndis pray.

A semle selcouþ hit is to se.
Þe burd þat had þis Barne i-borne,
Þis Child conseyuyd in he degre,
And maydyn is as was beforne.
Seche wonder tydyngus ȝe mow here,
Þat maydon and modur ys won y-fere,
And lady ys of hye aray.

A wonder þyng is now befall.
Þat Lord þat mad boþ se and sun,
Heuen and erþ, and angelis al,
In monkynde ys now becumme.
What tydyngus bryng[is] vt supra.
A faunt þat is bot of on ȝere,
Euer as ben and schal be ay.
What tyþyngis bryngis þou vt supra.

Þise louele lade con grete her Chylde,
‘Hayle! Sun, haile! Broder, haile! Fader dere!’
‘Haile! doȝter, haile! suster, haile! moder myld!’
Þis haylsyng was on coynt manere.
Seche wo[n]der tyþyngis vt supra.
Þis gretyng was of so[c]he chere,
Þat mans pyne hit turnyd to play.

193

Þat Lord þat al þyng mad of noȝt
Is mon becum fore mons loue;
Fore with His blood he schul be boȝt,
From bale to blys þat is aboue.
Seche wonder tyþyngis vt supra.
Þat Lord vs grawnt now our prayoure,
To twel in heuen þat we may.
Seche wonder tyþyngis vt supra.

39

De rege nostro Henrico Sexto.

A! perles Pryns to þe we þray,
Saue our kyng boþ nyȝt and day.

Fore he is ful ȝong, tender of age,
Semele to se, o bold corage,
Louele and lofte of his lenage,
Boþ perles prince and kyng veray.

His gracious granseres and his grawndame,
His fader and moderis of kyngis þay came;
Was neuer a worþear prynce of name,
So exelent in al our day.

His fader fore loue of mayd Kateryn,
In Fraunce he wroȝt turment and tene;
His loue hee sayd hit schuld not ben,
And send him ballis him with to play.

Þen was he wyse in wars with alle,
And taȝt Franchemen to plai at þe balle;
With tenes hold he ferd ham halle;
To castelles and setis þi floyn away.

194

To Harflete a sege he layd anon,
And cast a bal vnto þe towne;
Þe Frenchemen swere be se and sun,
Hit was þe fynd þat mad þat fray.

Anon þai toke ham to cownsele;
Oure gracious kyng þai wold asayle;
At Agyncowrt at þat patayle,
Þe floure of Frawnce he fel þat day.

Þe kyng of Frawns þen was agast;
Mesagers to him send in hast,
Fore wele he west hit was bot wast
Hem to witstond in hone way.

And prayd hym to sese of his outrage,
And take Kateryn to mareage;
Al Frawnce to him schuld do homage,
And croune him kyng afftyr his day.

Of Frawnce he mad him anon regent,
And wedid Kateren in his present;
Into Englond anon he went,
And cround our quene in ryal aray.

Of quen Kateryn our kyng was borne,
To saue our ryȝt þat was forelorne,
Oure faders in Frawns had won befor[n]e;
Þai han hit hold mone a day.

Þus was his fader a conqueroure,
And wan his moder with gret onoure;
Now may þe kyng bere þe floure
Of kyngis and kyngdams in vche cuntre.

195

On him schal fal þe prophece,
Þat haþ ben sayd of Kyng Herre,
Þe hole cros wyn or he dye,
Þat Crist halud on Goodfryday.

Al wo and werres he schal a-cese,
And set alle reams in rest and pese,
And turne to Cristyndam al heþynes;
Now grawnt him hit so be may.

Pray we þat Lord is Lord of alle
To saue our kyng his reme ryal,
And let neuer myschip vppon him falle,
Ne false traytoure him to betray.

I pray ȝoue, seris, of ȝour gentre,
Syng þis carol reuerently,
Fore hit is mad of Kyng Herre;
Gret ned fore him we han to pray.

Ȝif he fare wele, wele schul we be,
Or ellis we may be ful sore,
Fore him schal wepe mone an e;
Þus prophecis þe blynd Awdlay.

40

Fac ad quod venisti.

Hit is þe best erele and late
Vche mon kepe his oune state.

In wat order or what degre
Hole cherche haþ bownd þe to,
Kepe hit wele, I cownsel þe,
Dissire þou neuer to go þer-fro;
I say all gate vt supra.

196

A hye worchip hit is to þe
To kepe þi state and þi good name,
Leud or lered were-here hit be,
Ellis God and mon þay wol þe blame;
I say al gate vt supra.

Fore iiij [a]b[u]sions now schul ȝe here
Þat God hatis hile in his syȝt;
A harde prest, a proud frere,
An hold mon lechoure, a couard knyȝt;
I say al gate vt supra.

A prest schuld scheu vche mon mekenes,
And leue in loue and charite;
Þroȝ his grace and his goodnes,
Set al oþer in vnite;
I say al gate vt supra.

A frere schuld loue alle holenes,
Prayers, penans, and pouert[e];
Relegious men, Crist hem ches
To foresake pride and vaynglory,
I say al gate vt supra.

An hold mon schuld kepe him chast,
And leue þe synne of lechore;
Al wedid men schuld be stedfast,
And foresake þe syn of avowtre;
I sai al gate vt supra.

A knyȝt schuld feȝt aȝayns falsnes,
And schew his monhod and his myȝt,
And mayntene trouþ and ryȝtwysnes,
And hole cherche and wedowes ryȝt;
I say al gate vt supra.

197

Here be al þe foure astatis,
In hole cherche God haþ ordent;
He bedis ȝou kepe hem wel al gate,
Wos[o]euer he chomys he wyl be schent;
I say al gate vt supra.

41

Cantalena de puericia.

And God wold graunt me my prayer,
A child aȝene I wold I were.

Fore pride in herte he hatis all one;
Worchip ne reuerens kepis he non;
Ne he is wroþ with no mon;
In charete is alle his chere.

He wot neuer wat is envy;
He wol vche mon fard wele him by;
He couetis noȝt vnlaufully,
Fore chere stons is his tresoure.

In hert he hatis lechori,
To here þer-of he is sory;
He sleþ þe syn of glotere,
Noþer etis ne drynkis bot fore mystere.

Slouþ he putis away al gate,
And wol be bese erle and late;
Al wyckidnes þus he doþ hate,
Þe vij dedle synns al in-fere.

198

A gracious lyfe forsoþe he has;
To God ne mon doþ no trespas,
And I in syn fal, alas,
Euere day in þe ȝere.

My ioy, my myrþ is fro me clene;
I turne to care, turment, and tene;
Ded I wold þat I had bene,
When I was borne, and layd on bere.

Fore better hit were to be vnboren,
Þen fore my synus to be forelorne,
Nere grace of God þat is beforne,
Almysdede and hole prayere

Now oþer cumford se I non
Bot schryue me clene with contricion,
And make here trew satisfaccion,
And do my penans wyle Y am here.

42 In die epephanis &c.

Nowel! nowel! nowel!

Þer is a Babe born of a may
In saluacion of vs;
Þat He be heryd in þis day,
Vene Creatore Spiritus.

In Bedlem, in þat fayre plas,
Þis blessid Barne borne he was;
Him to serue, God grawnt vs grace,
Tu trinetatis vnitas.

199

Þe angelis to chepardis songyn and sayd,
‘Pes in erþ be mon vnto.’
Þer-with þai were ful sore afrayd,
Glorea in ex[c]elsis Deo.

Þe chepardis hard þat angel song;
Þai heredon God in Trenete;
Moche merþ was ham among,
Iam lucis ortus sidere.

Iij kyngis þai soȝt Him here-fore,
Of dyuers lond and fere cuntre,
And askidyn were þis Barne was bore,
Hostes Herodes impij.

He bad ham go seche þis Barne;
Anon þis way to me he come,
Þat I may do Hym worchip beforne,
Deus Creator omnium.

Þe stere apered here face beforne,
Þat gladid here hertes ful graciously,
Ouer þat plase þis Babe was born,
Ihesu Saluotor seculi.

Þai knelid adowne with gret reuere[n]s;
Gold, sens, and myr, þai offerd Him to;
He blessid ham ale þat were present,
Ihesu nostra Redempcio.

Þe gold betokens He was a kyng;
Þe sens, a prest of dyngnete;
Þe myr betokynþ His bereyng,
Magne Deus potencie.

200

Þe angel hem wernyd in here slepyng
At Erod þe kyng þai schuld not cumme;
Þat Babe ȝou bade on His blessyng,
Christe Redemptore omnium.

Þai turnyd þen anoþer way
Into kyngdom ful graciously;
Þen þai begonon to syng and say,
Saluator mundy Domine.

43

De sancta Anna matre Marie.

The moder of Mary, þat merceful may,
Pray fore vs boþ nyȝt and day.

Swete saynt Tanne, we þe beseche
Þou pray fore vs to oure laday,
Þat heo wel be oure soulis leche,
Þat day when we schul dey.
Here-fore we say.

Þroȝ þe was gladid alle þis word
When Mare of þe borne was,
Þat bere þat Barne, þat blisful Lord,
Þat grawntis vs al merce and grace.
Here-fore we say.

Baren þou were ful long before,
Þen God he se to þi mekenes,
Þat þou schuldist delyuer þat was forelore,
Mon soule þat lay in þe fyndis distres.
Here-fore we say.

201

Fore Ioachym, þat hole housbond,
Prayyd to God ful paciently,
Þat he wold send his swete sond,
Sum froyte betwene ȝou two to be.
Here-fore we say.

Þen God hem grawntid graciously,
Betwene ȝoue two a floure schul spryng,
Þe rote þer-of is clepid Iesse,
Þat ioye and blis to þe word schal beryng.
Here-fore I say.

Þe blisful branche þis floure on greue,
Out of Iesse, at my wettyng,
Was Mare myld þat bere Ihesu,
Maydyn and moder to heuen Kyng.
Here-fore I say.

I-callid Ihesus of Nazaret,
God Sun of hi degre,
As here as mon þat sofyrd deþ,
And r[e]ynyd into Dauit dygnete.
Here-fore I say.

In Bedlem, in þat blessid place,
Mare myld þis Floure haþ borne,
Betwene an ox and an as,
To saue His pepil þat was forelorne;
Here-fore I say.

Mater ora Filium,
Þat He wyl affter þis outlere
Nobis donet gaudium
Sine fyne fore His merce.
Here-fore I say.

202

44

Alia cantalena de Sancta Maria.

There is a Floure spr[u]ng of a tre,
Þe rote þer-of is callid Iesse;
A Floure of pryce,
Þer is non seche in paradise!

Þis Flour is fayre and fresche of heue;
Hit fadis neuer bot euer is new;
Þe blisful branche þis Flour on grew
Was Mare myld þat bare Ihesu.
A Flour of grace,
Aȝayns al sorow hit is solas!

Þe sede here-of was Godis sond,
Þat God Himselue sew with His hond
In Bedlem in þat hole lond;
In medis here herbere þer he hir fond.
Þis blisful Floure
Sprang neuer bot in Maris boure.

When Gabrael þis mayd met,
With ‘Aue Maria’ he here gret;
Betwene hem two þis Flour was set,
And kept was, no mon schul wit;
Hent on a day
In Bedlem hit con spred and spray.

When þat Floure began to sprede,
And His blossum to bede,
Ryche and pore of euere lede,
þai maruelt hou þis Flour myȝt sprede;
[And] kyngys iij
Þat blesful Floure come to se.

203

Angelis þer cam out of here toure
To loke apon þis freschele Floure,
Houe fayre He was in His coloure,
And hou sote in His sauour,
And to behold
How soche a Flour myȝt spryng in golde.

Of lille, of rose of ryse,
Of prymrol, and of flourdelyse,
Of al þe flours at my deuyse,
Ȝet Floure of Iesse ȝet bers þe prys,
As most of hele
To slake oure sorous euere dele.

I pray ȝoue, flours of þis cuntre,
Where-euere ȝe go, were-euer ȝe be,
Hold hup þe Flour of good Iesse,
Fore ȝour freschenes and ȝoure beute,
As fayrist of al,
And euer was, and euer schal.

Þer is a Floure.

45

Et alia de Sancta Maria.

Aue Maria, now say we so,
Moder and maydon was neuer non mo.

Gaude Maria, Cristis moder,
Mare, moder of þyn emne,
Þou bare my Lord; þou bare my Broder;
Þou bare a cumle Child and clene;
Þou stodist ful stil without wene,
When in þyn ere þis erand was doo,
When gracious God þe lyȝt within,
Gabrielis nuncio.
Aue Maria vt supra.

204

Gaude Maria, Y gret with grace.
When Ihesu, þi Sun, of þe was bore,
Fol nyȝ þi brest þou con Him brace;
He secud; He soukid; He wept ful sore;
Þou fedist þat Flour þat neuer schal fade
With maydns melke, and sang þer-to,
Lolay! my Swete, I bare þe, Babe,
Cum peudoris lilleo.

Gaude Maria, þi myȝt was away,
When Crist, þi Son, on cros con dye,
Ful dolfully on Good Fryday,
Þat mone a moder sone hit se;
His blod vs boȝt fro care and striue;
His watere wondis vs waschid fro w[o];
Þe iij day fro deþ to lyue
Fulget resureccio.

Gaude Maria, þou burd so bryȝt,
Breȝter þen þe blossum þat blomyþ on þe hill,
Ful ioyful þou were to se seche a syȝt,
And al þe postilis so swet of wil,
Fore al and sum þai stod ful stil,
When fayrst of chap He swond ȝoue fro;
Fro erþe to heuen He styud ful stil,
Motu fertur proprio.

Gaude Maria, þat rose on ryse,
Moder and maid gentil and fre,
Precious, perrles princes of pes,
Þi boure is next þe Trinete;
Þi Sun as loue al knon of kynd,
Þi bode and soule He toke Him to;
Þou restist with Him þer as we fynd
In celi palacio.

205

46

Et de Sancta Maria.

Heyle! of wymmen flour of alle,
Þou herst vs when we to þe calle.

Blessid mot þou be, þou berd so bryȝt,
Moder and maidon most of myȝt;
Þou art þe ster of days lyȝt,
And kepust vs when we schul falle.

Of alle b[e]rdis þat euer was boren,
Blessid mot þou be boþ euen and morn,
Þroȝ þe were sauyd þat were forelorne,
Mone on beþ gret and smale.

‘Hayle!’ to þe was swettle sayd
When Ihesu in þe He was consayued;
And þroȝ þe was þe fende afrayd;
Þou madist vs fre to make him þralle.

Hayle! chif chosun garbunkul ston,
Of þe was borne boþ God and Mon;
When synful mon he makis his mon,
To him þou art treu as ston in wal.

Haile! be þou quene, emperes of hel;
Of al pete þou arte þe wel;
We prayn þe dame and damesel,
Þat þou bryng vs into þi bal.

206

47

De virgin[i]tate.

For the loue of a maydon fre
I haue me choson to chastite.

Blessid mot be oure heuen quene,
Fore vergyn and maydyn sheo was ful cleene;
Soche anoþer was neuer ȝer sene,
Þat so wel kept here virgynyte.

In word, in will, in dede, in thoȝt,
Here maydehood defowled sheo noȝt,
Þer-fore þe Lorde þat here hade wroght
Wolde be boron of hyr body.

To-fore alle maydenes to hyr He ches
Fore here clannes and here mekenes;
Fore mon soule heo schuld reles,
Euen fro þe fynd and his pouste.

Saynt Kateryn and Marget and Wynfred
Þat louyd ful wel here maydhed,
Þe sofird to smyte of here hede,
Fore defouled wold þai not be.

207

Þer-fore þai be in heuen blis
Where murþ and melode euer þer ys,
And soo shal all maydons, y-wys,
That kepon heore worder and here degre.

Þai foloun our lady with gret reuerens,
And don here seruys in here presens,
Fore aȝayns þe fynd þai made defense
With þe swerd of chastite.

48

Cantalena de virginibus.

I pray ȝoue maydys þat here be
Kepe ȝour state and ȝour degre.

In word, in dede, in wyl, in þoȝt,
Ȝour maydynhede defoule ȝe noȝt,
Lest to blame þat ȝe ben broȝt,
And lese ȝour state, ȝour honeste.

An vndur-marke Crist con ȝou lene
To marc with; kepe hit clene;
Ȝif ȝe hit tame hit wil be sene,
Do ȝe neuer soo preuely.

Of þat tresour men ben ful fayne,
And al here loue on ȝoue þai lay[ne],
And mone a pene fore hit þai pay[ne],
Boþ seluer and gold, lond and fe.

208

Ȝif þat tresoure ȝe don hit tame,
When hit is knowyn ȝe wil haue chame;
Of þer-fore ȝe berne gret blame,
Neuer on be oþer ware wil be.

Nad þat tresoure bene e-wroȝt,
To blis we had not bene e-broȝt;
Hit faylis neuer, ne fadis noȝt;
Euer to mon hit is redy.

Ȝif ȝe kepyn wele þat tresoure,
Hit schal ȝou bryng to hie honoure;
Þaȝ ȝe be fayre, of freche coloure,
Beute is noȝt without bonte.

Trewly nyer þat tresoure were,
Of men ȝe schuld haue febul chere,
Avyse ȝou whom ȝe lene hit here,
Ȝif ȝe ben begild þat blame not me.

Fore oþer cownsel nedis ȝoue non,
Þen doþ þer-after euerechon,
Fore þis tresoure has holpyn mone hone;
Hit marys maydis vche cuntre.

49

De matrimonio mulierum.

Avyse ȝoue wemen wom ȝe trust
And be ware of ‘had I wyst.’

Hit is ful heue chastite
With mone maydyns now-o-day,
Þat louyn to haue gam and gle,
Þat turnes to sorowe soþly to say;
Alle day þou sist.

209

Now ȝif a womon mared schal be,
Anon heo schal be boȝt and solde,
Fore no loue of hert truly,
Bot fore couetyse of lond ore gold;
Al day þou seest.

Bot þus Godis low and his wil wolde,
Even of blod, of good, of ache,
Fore loue to-geder þus com þai schuld,
Fore þis makis metle mareache;
Ale day þou sees[t].

And þe froyt þat coms hom betwene,
Hit schal haue grace to þryue and þe;
Þer oþer schal haue turment and tene,
Fore couetyse vnlaufully;
Al day þou seest.

Þer is no creatuere, as wretyn I fynd,
Saue onele mon þat [doþ] outtrache,
Bot [ch]esyn hom makys of here oune kynd,
And so þai makyn treu mareache;
Alle day þou seest.

Bot now a lady wil take a page
Fore no loue bot fleschele lust,
And so here blod is disparage;
Þus lordus and lordchip al day ben lost;
Al day þou seest.

Lordis and lorchip þus wastyn away
In Englond in mone a place;
Þat makis false ayrs hit is no nay,
And lese worchip, honowre, and grace;
Al day þou seest.

210

50

De amore Dei.

I haue a loue is heuen Kyng;
I loue His loue fore euer more.
Fore loue is loue and euer schal be,
And loue has bene ore we were bore;
Fore loue he askys no noþer fe,
Bot loue aȝayn; he kepis no more;
I say here-fore.

Trew loue is tresoure; trust is store,
To a loue to Godis plesyng;
Bot leude loue makis men e-lore,
To loue here lust and here lykyng;
I say here-fore.

In good loue þer is no syn;
Witho[u]t loue is heuenes;
Here-fore to loue I nyl not bly[n],
To loue my God and His goodnes;
I say here-fore.

For He me louyd or I Him knew,
Þer-fore I loue Him alþer best,
Ellis my loue I myȝt hit rew;
I loue with Him to take my rest;
I say here-fore.

Of al loueres þat euer was borne,
His loue hit passid euerechon;
Nad He vs louy[d], we were forelorne;
With[out] [H]is loue, trew loue is non;
I say here-fore.

211

51

Timor mortis conturbat me.

Lade, helpe! Ihesu, merce!
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Dred of deþ, sorow of syn,
Trobils my hert ful greuysly;
My soule hit nyþ with my lust þen;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Fore blyndnes is a heue þyng,
And to be def þer-with only,
To lese my lyȝt and my heryng;
Passio Christi conforta me.

And to lese my tast and my smellyng,
And to be seke in my body,
Here haue I lost al my lykyng;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Þus God He ȝeues and takys away,
And as He wil so mot hit be;
His name be blessid boþ nyȝt and daye;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Here is a cause of gret mornyng;
Of myselfe no þyng I se,
Saue filþ, vnclennes, vile stynkyng;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Into þis word no more I broȝt,
No more I gete with me trewly,
Saue good ded, word, wil, and þoȝt;
Passio Christi conforta me.

212

The v wondis of Ihesu Crist,
My midsyne now mot þai be,
Þe fyndis pouere downe to cast;
Passio Christi conforta me.

As I lay seke in my langure,
With sorow of hert and teere of ye,
Þis caral I made with gret doloure;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Oft with þese prayere I me blest,
In manus tuas Domine,
Þou take my soule into þi rest;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Mare moder, merceful may,
Fore þe ioys þou hadist, lady,
Of þi Sun fore me þou pray;
Passio Christi conforta me.

Lerne þis lesson of blynd Awdlay:
When bale is hyest þen bot may be,
Ȝif þou be nyd nyȝt or day,
Say passio Christi conforta me.

52

De Sancto Fransisco.

Saynt Frances, to þe I say,
Saue þi breder boþ nyȝt and day.

A hole confessoure þou were hone,
And leuydist in contemplacion,
To þyng on Cristis passioun,
Þat sofyrd deþ on Good Fryday;
Saynt Frawnces, to þe I pray.

213

His passion was in þe so feruent,
Þat He aperd to þi present;
Vpon þi body He set His prynt,
His v wondis, hit is no nay.

Vpon þi body þou hem bere,
Affter þat tyme ful iij ȝe[re];
To al men syȝt þai did apere;
No water myȝt wasche hem away.

Weder þou schuldist ete ore drenke,
On Cristis passion þou woldist þynke;
In v partys wes þi partyng
Of His sustinans, soþe to say.

Crist He grawnt þe specialy,
Fore on His passion þou hadist pete,
To feche þi breder out of purgatori,
Þat lyin þer in rewful aray.

Þou þongis Crist of His swete sonde,
And þoȝtist to go to þe hole londe,
Fore dred of deþ þou woldist not wond,
To teche þe pepil þi Cristyn fay.

Þen Crist He knew welle þen entent,
And turned þe out of þat talent,
And bede þe make þi testament,
And come to me fore ens and ay.

A! hole Frawnces, now I se,
Fore my loue þat þou woldist dye;
Þou schalt haue ioy perpetual[e],
Þou hast dyssired mone a day.

214

His hole reule of relegiowne
To his breder he wrote anon,
And prayd ham fore Cristis passiowne,
To kepe hit wel boþ nyȝt and day.

A sad ensampil here mow ȝe se,
On Cristis passioun to haue pete,
And to leue in loue and charete,
Þen mere in hert be ȝe may.

His last prayer to Crist þis was;
Fore al þat sustens þis hole place,
Gr[a]cious God, grawnt ham þi grace,
To-fore þi iugement at domysday.

Pray we to Frawnses þat beþ present
To saue his breder and his couent,
Þat þai be neuer chamyd ne chent,
With wyckid man, ne fyndis fray.

I pray ȝoue, seris, pur charyte,
Redis þis caral reuerently,
Fore I mad hit with wepyng eye,
Ȝour broder Ion, þe blynd Awdlay.

53

Pater noster qui es in celis.

The pater noster to expone, may no man hit prise,
Þat of prayers is pris and most fore to prayse;
I rede þou rede hit a-ryȝt and out of syn ryse,
Þat may restyng in heuen vnto þi soule rayse;

215

Fore seuen poyntis þer bene in e-set in asyse,
Þe lest salue hyt is to þe synn as þe boke sayse.
Oure Fader þe wyche þou hart in heuen, þis oresoune þou yse;
Ay e-halouyd be þi name in angyr and in ayse;
Sanctificetur nomen tuum,
Say whe þe same,
Oure Fader þe wyche þou art in heuen halouyd be þi name.

Te secunde princepal poynt is of paradyse,
How we schuld pyn vs to pray after þat [pl]ace,
Fore vche a herd þat is here mai hold fore hyse,
Þe Lord þat harouyd hel wil He in hert hase.
Bot ȝif þou wyn þe þat won I hold þe vnwyse,
Fore wele wantyd þer neuer non seþyn hit wroȝt was;
Into þat courte fore to cum, be hit þi couetyse,
Þat þe kyngdam of heuen is callid in þis case.
Adueniat regnum tuum,
Þi kyngdam vs come,
Þis is þe secunde poynt al and some.

The þrid poynt to expownd þat is most playne:
Let penans perce þi syn out of þi soule playne;
Þe foreward at þe fonston to fulfyl þou schuldist be ful fayne,
And not in foundyng to be as þe wederfane,
Bot to abyde at his bone and at his bidyng be bayne,
Boþ in bale and in blis abyde at his bane;
Þer-fore his wil to fulfil þou schalt þi soule wayne,
And let þi warlouys werkys out of þi soule wane.
Fiat voluntas tua sicut in celo et in terra,
Fulfilde be his wil,
Ryȝt in erþ as in heuen with good and with ylle.

216

The forþ poynt is of þe flesche and of þe soule fode,
To pray þe Fader of heuen vs fore to fede,
Þaȝ þou hadyst hallis of golde hit þe behouyd,
And ale we haue hit of hym þat lytyl takyn hede.
Furst we aske þe bred He boȝt with His blood,
Seþyn þe blisse aboue His body can fore-blede,
As þou art ryȝtful Lord rent on þe rode,
Reche us our oche days bred þis day as we rede.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie,
Our oche days bred,
Lord, þou reche vs to-day; þou art our soulis rede.

When þou hast fraystud þe fyrþ, to þe fyft fare,
Þou schalt hit forþeron in þi hert and ful sone i-fere,
And cri arde vpon Crist to keuer vs of care,
As He was crownyd on þe croyse, with a voyse clere;
And be ware of þat word þat þou hit wele ware,
Ellys vnborne þat þou wore, better þe were.
And foreȝef vs our det þat doþ þe soule dare,
As we our dettys foreȝifþ fore þi deþ dere.
Et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus,
Foreȝif vs our dett debitoribus nostris,
As we our detturse foreȝifþ, we bid no bet.

The sext poynte of þe sevon þat I of syng
Is most helpe to þe soule, in saw and in song,
Þat God our Fader ouse lede into no fowndyng,
Þat schulde our forward vs let heuen fore to fyng;
Ne fore no lykyng ne no lust wyle we schulde here lyng,
Makust to leue þat lyue þat last schal so long,
Ne fore no want of þat wele to wepe ne to wryng,
Where warlawys waltyrne in here wo fore here mekil wrong.
Et ne nos inducas in temptacionem,
Fore þi Godhede,
Into no fowndyng of synne þat þou vs neuer lede.

217

Bot delyuer vs from losse boþ erle and late—
Þis last poynt fore to lerne harmus bot lyte—
Fro al maner of mys þat wold vs here mate,
þat neuer no males ouse mare more þen a myt;
Þe bale þat is brewyn here with blys þou abate,
Þat neuer þe blase of hel to our soule byte;
And at þe day of our deþ þat settis no date,
Þe deuyl be doles of vs how-so he dyte.
Set libera nos a malo, amen.
Fore dowte of þat den,
Lord, to lyuer vs from alle eu[e]lus, amen.

54

De tribus regibus mortuis.

An a byrchyn bonke þer bous arne bryȝt,
I saw a brymlyche bore to a bay broȝt.
Ronke rachis with rerde þai ronnon a-ryȝt,
Of al hore row and hore rest lytil hom þoȝt.
Me þoȝt hit ful semele to se soche a s[i]ȝt
How in a syde of a salȝe a sete him he soȝt,
Fro þe noyse þat hit was new til hit was ne nyȝt,
Fro þe non bot a napwile, me þoȝt hit bot noȝt—
Me þoȝt hit noȝt bot a þrow—
To se how he þrobyt and þrew.
Honters with hornes þai kowþ blow;
Þai halowyd here howndys with ‘how!’
In holtis herde I neuer soche hew.

218

Soche a hew in a holt were hele to beholde
To se þe howndis him hent and gar him to helde.
Þer come barownce to þat bay with barsletys bolde;
Þai blewyn here bewgulys ful breme hore brachus to b[e]ld[e].
Þre kyngys þer come trewle I tolde,
With donyng and tryffylyng and talis þai telde.
Vche a wy þat þer was wroȝt as þai wold.
Þese wodis and þese wastis þai waltyn al to w[e]lde,
Þai waltyn at here wil to ware
Þese wodis and þe wastus þat þer were;
Herkyns what befel of here fare—
Ham lykyd no lorchip in lare—
Þe lede þat wold lestyn and lere.

When þai weren of þese wodys gone at here wy[n],
Þai fondyn wyndys ful wete and wederys ful w[on],
Bot soche a myst vp-o molde with mowþ as ȝoue m[i]n.
Of al here men and here mete þai mystyn vche mon.
‘Al our awnters,’ quoþ one, ‘þat we beþ now inne,
I hope fore honor of erþ þat anguis be ous on.
Þaȝ we be kyngis ful clene and comen of ryche kyn,
Moche care vs is caȝt fore kraft þat can.
Can I mo no cownsel bot care,
Bot couerys and cachis sum rest;
Be morne may mend þis myst.
Our Lord may delyuer vs with lyst
Or lele our lyuys ar l[e]st.’

219

Where þai not forþ gone fotis bot a fewe,
Þai fondon feldus ful fayre and fogus ful fow.
Schokyn out of a schawe þre schal[k]ys at en[e],
[Sc]hadows vnshene were chapid to ch[o]w,
[W]ith lymes long and lene and leggys ful lew,
[H]adyn lost þe lyp and þe lyuer seþyn þai were layd loue.
***** was no beryn þat þer was dorst bec nor bewe,
[Bo]t braydyn here brydilys agayne, hor blongis can bl[ow];
Here blonkis can blow and abyde.
Seche barns þai can hom byde,
Þai se no sokur hom besyde,
Bot oche kyng apon Crist cryde
With crossyng and karpyng o crede.

The furst kyng he had care, his hert ourcast,
Fore he knew þe cros of þe cloþ þat couerd þe cyst.
Forþ wold not his fole bot fnyrtyd ful fast,
His fayre fawkun fore ferd he fel to his f[y]st:
‘Now al my gladchip is gone, I gre[de] and am agast
Of þre gostis ful grym þat cace me be Cryst.
Fore of[t] haue I walkon be wodys and be wast,
Bot was me neuer so wo in þis word þat Y wyst,

220

So wo was me neuer I wene.
My wit is away oþer wane;
Certis sone hit wil be sene
Our conny[n]g wil turne vs to tene,
Fore tytle I trow we bene tane.’

Then bes[po]ke þe ij kyng þat mekil was of myȝt,
Was made as a man schuld of mayn and of m[a]ȝt,
‘Me þenkys, seris, þat I se þe selquoþ syȝt
Þat euer segge vnder sonne sey and was saȝt,
Of þre ledys ful layþ þat lorne haþ þe lyȝt;
Boþ þe lip [and þe] lyuer his fro þe lyme laȝt.
Fore ȝif we tene to þe towne as we hadyn tyȝt,
Ha ful teneful way I trow þat vs is taȝt,
Vs is taȝt, as I trow,
I tel ȝou no talis bot trew.
What helpis our hontyng with how?
Now rayke we to þe ȝonder row,
Or raddele oure rese mon we rew.’

Þen speke þe henmest kyng, in þe hillis he beholdis,
He lokis vnder his hondis and his hed heldis;
Bot soche a carful k[ny]l to his hert coldis,
So doþ þe knyf ore þe kye, þat knoc kelddus.
‘Hit bene warlaws þre þat walkyn on þis woldis.
Oure Lord wyss us þe rede-way þat al þe word w[e]ldus!
My hert fare[s] fore freȝt as flagge when hit foldus,
Vche fyngyr of my hond fore ferdchip hit feldus.

221

Fers am I ferd of oure fare;
Fle we ful fast þer-fore.
Can Y no cownsel bot care.
Þese dewyls wil do vs to dare,
Fore drede lest þai duttyn vche a dore.’

‘Nay, are we no fyndus,’ quoþ furst, ‘þat ȝe before ȝou fynden;
We wer ȝour faders of fold þat fayre ȝoue haue fondon.
Now ȝe beþ lykyr to leue þen leuys on þe lynde[n],
And lordis of oche towne fro Loron into Londen.
Þose þat bene not at ȝour bone ȝe beton and b[yn]don;
Bot ȝef ȝe betun þat b[ru]st, in bale be ȝe bondon.
Lo here þe wormus in my wome þai wallon and wyndon,
Lo here þe wrase of þe wede þat I was in wondon;
Here-in was I wondon i-wys
In word wan þat me worþelokyst was.
My caren was ful cumle to cusse.
Bot we haue made ȝoue mastyrs amys
Þat now nyl not mynn us with a mas.’

That oþer body began a ful brym bere,
‘Lokys on my bonus þat blake bene and bare.
Fore wyle wondon in þis word, at worchip we were,
Whe hadon our wyfe at our wil well fore to ware.
Þenkes ȝe no ferle bot frayns at me ferys,
Þaȝ ȝe be neuer so fayre þus schul ȝe fare.
And ȝif ȝe leuyn vpon Crist and on His lore lerys,
Leuys lykyng of flesche and leue not þat lare,

222

Fore warto schuld ȝe leue hit, hit lyus;
Hit ledys ȝoue be lagmon be lyus,
When þou art aldyr-hyȝtus[t] and hyust;
Away of þis word when þat þou wryust,
Al þi wild werkys hit wreus.’

Then speke layþe vpo last with lyndys ful lene,
With eyþer leg as a leke were lapid in lyne,
‘Makis ȝour merour be me, my myrþus bene mene;
Wyle I was mon apon mold merþis þai were myne:
Me þoȝt hit a hede þenke at husbondus to hene,
Fore þat was I hatyd with heme and with hyne,
Bot þoȝt me neuer kyng of coyntons so clene.
Now is þer [no] knaue vnder Crist to me wil enclyne,
To me wil enclyne, to me come,
Bot ȝif he be cappid or kymyd.
Do so ȝe dred not þe dome.
To tel ȝoue we haue no longyr tome,
Bot turn ȝoue fro tryuyls betyme.’

Now þis gostis bene grayþ, to graue þai glydyn,
Þen began þese comys grayþle to glade.
Þai redyn on þe ryȝt way and radle þai rydyn,
Þe red rowys of þe day þe rynkkys kouþyn rade.
Holde þai neuer þe pres be hew ne be hyde,
Bot ay þe hen[d]yr hert after þai hade.
And þai þat weryn at myschip þai mend ham þat tyde.
And þroȝ þe merce of God a mynster þai made,
A mynster þai made with masse,
Fore metyng þe men on þe masse

223

And on þe woȝe wrytyn þis was.
To lyte will leue þis, allas!
Oure Lord delyuer vs from losse. Amen.

55

Sapiencia huius mundi stulticia est apud Deum.

Here may ȝe here now hwat ȝe be;
Here may ȝe cnow hwat ys þis worlde;
Here may ȝe boothe here and se
Only in God ys all comforde,
For ther nys noon odur Loorde
That can do as He can;
All thyng He made here with a worde,
Hwen He had sayde hit was y-don;
Her-to we were y-bore
To serue þat Lorde omnipotent,
And kepe wel His comanndement;
All thyng here He has vs lent
To worshyp Hym in erthe ther-fore.

Then loke ȝe hoolde Hym for-warde;
Forsake ȝour pryde, ȝour veynglory,
Sett noȝt by þe ioy here of þis worlde;
Hyt ys butt vayne and vanyte.
But for þat ȝour namus wreton þay be
In þe bok of lyfe in heuen blys,
Ther to haue ioy perpetualy,
Al erthely ioy shal sone vanyshe.
Þus may ȝe se al-soo,
How men þay dyon sodenly,
And leson here ioy and veynglory
With þe twynkelyng of an ye;
Farewel, þay ben a-goo.

224

Hic vir despiciens mundum.

Herfore Y haue dyspysed þis worlde
And haue ouercomen alle erthely þyng;
My ryches in heuen with dede and worde
I haue y-purchest in my leuyng,
With good ensampul to odur ȝefyng.
Loke in þis book; here may ȝe se
Hwatt ys my wyl and my wrytyng
All odur by me war for to be;
Be warre, brether, Y ȝow pray,
Ȝowre mysdedes þat ȝe amende
Owte of thys worlde or þat ȝe wende,
For alle ys good þat hath good ende;
Thus conseles Jon, the blynde Awdelay.

Cuius finis bonus ipsum totum bonum. Finito libro sit laus et gloria Christo.

No mon þis book he take away,
Ny kutt owte noo leef, Y say for-why,
For hit ys sacrelege, sirus, Y ȝow say,
Beþ acursed in þe dede truly.
Ȝef ȝe w[i]l haue any copi,
Askus leeue and ȝe shul haue,
To pray for hym specialy
That hyt made ȝour soules to saue,
Jon, þe blynde Awdelay.
The furst prest to þe lord Strange he was,
Of þys chauntre here in þis place,
That made þis bok by Goddus grace,
Deeff, siek, blynd, as he lay,

Cuius anime propicietur Deus.