The Pilgrimage of the Life of Man Englisht by John Lydgate, A.D. 1426, from the French of Guillaume De Deguileville, A.D. 1330, 1355. The Text Edited by F. J. Furnivall ... With Introduction, Notes, Glossary and Indexes by Katharine B. Locock |
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Her be-gynneth the prologue of the auctour. |
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 | The Pilgrimage of the Life of Man |  |
6
Her be-gynneth the prologue of the auctour.
fful ofte hyt happeth in certeyn
Off dremys,—the wych that men ha seyn
I nyhtys,—after, whan they wake,
fful lytel hede ther-of thay take,
Tyl effte agayn yt comyth to mynde,
That they the veray trouthë fynde,
Of euery thyng they sawe to-forn.
ffor, of remembrauncë the thorn
Pryketh here myndës with hys poynt,
That they hyt se fro poynt to poynt,
And fynde hyt verrayly yn dede,
Thogh a-fore they took noon hede.
Be yt of Ioye, be yt of sorow,
fful ofte a-pon the nexte morow
yt ys go clene out off her thouht,
Ther-of they ha so lytel rouht,
Tyl after they a-vyse hem wel;
And then thay fyndyth yt euerydel,
Dremys that they had a nyhte,
By maner of a dyrked syhte.
But yiff they makë longe delay,
To putte hem forth fro day to day,
Than, th[o]rogh foryetelnesse,
Thay kan there-of no thyng expresse,
ffor all ys out of myndë go.
Off dremys,—the wych that men ha seyn
I nyhtys,—after, whan they wake,
fful lytel hede ther-of thay take,
Tyl effte agayn yt comyth to mynde,
That they the veray trouthë fynde,
Of euery thyng they sawe to-forn.
ffor, of remembrauncë the thorn
Pryketh here myndës with hys poynt,
That they hyt se fro poynt to poynt,
And fynde hyt verrayly yn dede,
Thogh a-fore they took noon hede.
Be yt of Ioye, be yt of sorow,
fful ofte a-pon the nexte morow
yt ys go clene out off her thouht,
Ther-of they ha so lytel rouht,
Tyl after they a-vyse hem wel;
And then thay fyndyth yt euerydel,
Dremys that they had a nyhte,
By maner of a dyrked syhte.
But yiff they makë longe delay,
To putte hem forth fro day to day,
Than, th[o]rogh foryetelnesse,
Thay kan there-of no thyng expresse,
ffor all ys out of myndë go.
And on A tyme hyt happyd so,
ffro Crystys berth a thousand yer,
Thre hondryd, by a-cowntys cler,
And over Ten, as I toke kepe,
Vp-on a nyht I lay & sclepe,
Drempte, (yf ye lyst to lere,)
A wonder dreme, in tyme yffere.
The wych, a-noon as I a-wook
Vp on the morow, a penne I took,
And wrote yt, yff ye lyst to wyte,
That I schold hyt nat foryete;
But freschly yn my mynde yt kepe,
Halff wakyng and halff a-slepe,
That I myht after, by leyser,
Correcte hyt when the day were cler,
By good avys, whan I took kepe,
Bet a-dawed out of my sclepe.
ffro Crystys berth a thousand yer,
Thre hondryd, by a-cowntys cler,
And over Ten, as I toke kepe,
Vp-on a nyht I lay & sclepe,
Drempte, (yf ye lyst to lere,)
A wonder dreme, in tyme yffere.
The wych, a-noon as I a-wook
Vp on the morow, a penne I took,
And wrote yt, yff ye lyst to wyte,
That I schold hyt nat foryete;
But freschly yn my mynde yt kepe,
Halff wakyng and halff a-slepe,
7
Correcte hyt when the day were cler,
By good avys, whan I took kepe,
Bet a-dawed out of my sclepe.
And thys consyderyd cuery dele,
Me sempte I haddë do ryht wel,
Yiff ther hadde, as tho to me,
ffallë noon contraryouste;
ffor al the wrytyng that I wrote
Was me be-raffte, and how I not,
Dyscured thurgh the world a brode,
As God woot wel, and thus yt stood.
Where-of I hadde as tho no shame,
ffor al I hald yt but a game;
ffor to that tyme fredam I hadde
To putte away, and eke to adde,
What that me lyst, lyk as I wende.
ffor ther was mychë thyng to mende,
To ordeyne, & to correcte,
And bet in order to directe;
ffor many a thyng, yt ys no nay,
Mot be prouyned, & kut a-way,
And yshape of newe entaylle,
In ordre dresse hyt, & yraylle,
As doth euery manere whyht,
That wol make a thyng a-ryht.
ffor he that bar my dreme a-way,
ffull lytel thouhte (yt ys no nay)
On my profyt in any wyse;
ffor shortly, as I kan devyse,
I myghte beter a mendyt yt,
Lyk as God hadde yeve me wyt,
Sool by my sylff, than I may now;
But all ys gone, I wot not how.
And eke yt ys so long a-go,
That thys dreem was take me fro,
I haue almost foryete yt al.
But not for-thy, yet I schal
Adde, & putte a-way also,
Where-as I se yt be to do;
I schal not leve in myne entent
To putte alway a-mendement,
As yt comyth to my knowynge,
Day be day yt rémembrynge.
And when that yt a-mendyd ys,
And se that nothyng be a mys,
By a lace I shal yt were,
And a-bowte my nekke yt bere,
Send yt forth to euery contre,
Wher-as to-fforn that yt hath be,
A-geyn my wyl & my plesaunce.
Me sempte I haddë do ryht wel,
Yiff ther hadde, as tho to me,
ffallë noon contraryouste;
ffor al the wrytyng that I wrote
Was me be-raffte, and how I not,
Dyscured thurgh the world a brode,
As God woot wel, and thus yt stood.
Where-of I hadde as tho no shame,
ffor al I hald yt but a game;
ffor to that tyme fredam I hadde
To putte away, and eke to adde,
What that me lyst, lyk as I wende.
ffor ther was mychë thyng to mende,
To ordeyne, & to correcte,
And bet in order to directe;
ffor many a thyng, yt ys no nay,
Mot be prouyned, & kut a-way,
And yshape of newe entaylle,
In ordre dresse hyt, & yraylle,
As doth euery manere whyht,
That wol make a thyng a-ryht.
ffor he that bar my dreme a-way,
ffull lytel thouhte (yt ys no nay)
On my profyt in any wyse;
ffor shortly, as I kan devyse,
I myghte beter a mendyt yt,
Lyk as God hadde yeve me wyt,
Sool by my sylff, than I may now;
But all ys gone, I wot not how.
And eke yt ys so long a-go,
That thys dreem was take me fro,
I haue almost foryete yt al.
But not for-thy, yet I schal
Adde, & putte a-way also,
Where-as I se yt be to do;
8
To putte alway a-mendement,
As yt comyth to my knowynge,
Day be day yt rémembrynge.
And when that yt a-mendyd ys,
And se that nothyng be a mys,
By a lace I shal yt were,
And a-bowte my nekke yt bere,
Send yt forth to euery contre,
Wher-as to-fforn that yt hath be,
A-geyn my wyl & my plesaunce.
And thus for a Remembraunce,
Go fforth thow dreme! I sendë the
By all the placys wher thow hast be;
I send the to thy provynours,
By all the pathys & the tovrs,
ffor thow knowest the weyë wel,
And the passage euerydel.
On my be halff[e] thow not ffaylle
To dresse yt ewyn by entaylle,
Wher thow wer fferst, wych doth me greve,
And took of me no maner leve.
ffor wych I calle yt (thys the ffyn,)
No verray weyë off pylgrym.
By cavsë, wherso, by the lak,
On ffootë, nor on horsëbak,
Thow sholdest ha mad no Iourne,
But thow haddest hadde leve off me.
But ffor as myche as I in dede
Thynkë the with me to lede,
Whan I go, as thow schalt se,
To Ierusaleem, the cyte;
To wych weye, with-ovte more
I am excyted wonder sore:
Thys myn entent, thider to drawe,
And a-mong pylgrymes, thys a lawe,
That, as brother vn-to brother,
Euerych sholde a-byden other.
Thys sholde ben a trewe vsage
Off folkys in ther pylgrymage.
Doo tellë myn aventure cler,
How passyd syx and twenty yer,
Tellë vn-to on and all,
How that yt ys [to] me ffall,
In the Abbey off Chalys,
Whylom ffoundyd off Seyn Lewyys.
Go fforth thow dreme! I sendë the
By all the placys wher thow hast be;
I send the to thy provynours,
By all the pathys & the tovrs,
ffor thow knowest the weyë wel,
And the passage euerydel.
On my be halff[e] thow not ffaylle
To dresse yt ewyn by entaylle,
Wher thow wer fferst, wych doth me greve,
And took of me no maner leve.
ffor wych I calle yt (thys the ffyn,)
No verray weyë off pylgrym.
By cavsë, wherso, by the lak,
On ffootë, nor on horsëbak,
Thow sholdest ha mad no Iourne,
But thow haddest hadde leve off me.
But ffor as myche as I in dede
Thynkë the with me to lede,
Whan I go, as thow schalt se,
To Ierusaleem, the cyte;
To wych weye, with-ovte more
I am excyted wonder sore:
Thys myn entent, thider to drawe,
And a-mong pylgrymes, thys a lawe,
That, as brother vn-to brother,
Euerych sholde a-byden other.
Thys sholde ben a trewe vsage
Off folkys in ther pylgrymage.
9
How passyd syx and twenty yer,
Tellë vn-to on and all,
How that yt ys [to] me ffall,
In the Abbey off Chalys,
Whylom ffoundyd off Seyn Lewyys.
| The Pilgrimage of the Life of Man | |