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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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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.
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