 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
151
APPEALS TO MAN FROM THE CROSS.
102. ‘Thou Sinful Man that by Me Goes’
The Dollorus complant of oure lorde
Apoune þe croce Crucifyit
Apoune þe croce Crucifyit
Now herkynnis wordis wunder gude,
How Ihū crist hang on þe rude;
With lufly speche and myld mude,
He schew till man
How he fra hell,
With panis fell,
Oure saulis wan.
How Ihū crist hang on þe rude;
With lufly speche and myld mude,
He schew till man
How he fra hell,
With panis fell,
Oure saulis wan.
‘Thow synfull man þat by me gais,
Ane quhyle to me þou turne þi face!
Behald my body, in euerylk place,
How it is dicht,
All to-rent,
And all to-schent,
Man, for thy plycht.
Ane quhyle to me þou turne þi face!
Behald my body, in euerylk place,
How it is dicht,
All to-rent,
And all to-schent,
Man, for thy plycht.
Man, fra me þou ga not ȝit!
Behalde my handes & my feit,
How þai ar knaggit with nalis gret
Wnto ane tre;
Thir depe woundis,
Þir harde stoundis,
I tholit for the.
Behalde my handes & my feit,
How þai ar knaggit with nalis gret
Wnto ane tre;
Thir depe woundis,
Þir harde stoundis,
I tholit for the.
Behald my croun of thornis kene,
The Iowis thrang on my heid in tene,
Tua theifis I was hangit betuen
With gret dispyte,
This mekill vnseill
Þou seis me feill,
Man, I the wyte.
The Iowis thrang on my heid in tene,
Tua theifis I was hangit betuen
With gret dispyte,
This mekill vnseill
Þou seis me feill,
Man, I the wyte.
152
Behald hertlie vnto my syde;
Thair ma þou se ane wound full wyde,
That maid was with ane speir full reid
Wnto my hert—
This anger, þis wa
Þou seis me ta,
Thy syn it gart.
Thair ma þou se ane wound full wyde,
That maid was with ane speir full reid
Wnto my hert—
This anger, þis wa
Þou seis me ta,
Thy syn it gart.
Behalde my schankis and my kneis,
Body, heid, armes and theis;
Behald, on me na thing þou seis
Bot sorrow and pyne—
Thus was I spylt,
Man, for þi gylt
And not for myne.
Body, heid, armes and theis;
Behald, on me na thing þou seis
Bot sorrow and pyne—
Thus was I spylt,
Man, for þi gylt
And not for myne.
Me Rewis for mary, my moder mylde,
That murnis so sair for me hir chylde;
ffor sche me saw þusgait revylde,
In alkin thyng
Leid as ane tyke,
& theif-lyke,
On gallowis to hyng.
That murnis so sair for me hir chylde;
ffor sche me saw þusgait revylde,
In alkin thyng
Leid as ane tyke,
& theif-lyke,
On gallowis to hyng.
Behalde how, with þair rapis teuch,
The Iowis fell my lymmes oute dreuch,
ffor þat na lymme was meit aneuch
Unto þe bore.
This anger, þis wa,
Þou seis me ta,
I tholit þe for.
The Iowis fell my lymmes oute dreuch,
ffor þat na lymme was meit aneuch
Unto þe bore.
This anger, þis wa,
Þou seis me ta,
I tholit þe for.
153
Man, vnderstande eik þou sall,
In-steid of drink þai gaif me gall;
Asaill myngit þair with-all
Thai Iowes fell.
Man, sickerly
Þir panis thole I,
To saif þi saule fra hell.
In-steid of drink þai gaif me gall;
Asaill myngit þair with-all
Thai Iowes fell.
Man, sickerly
Þir panis thole I,
To saif þi saule fra hell.
Behalde my corps, how Iowis it dang
With knoppit quhippis, with scurgis lang;
As stryndis of wellis, my blude oute sprang
On euerylk syde,
Weill ma þou wit,
Quhair knoppis hit
Maid wondis full wyde.
With knoppit quhippis, with scurgis lang;
As stryndis of wellis, my blude oute sprang
On euerylk syde,
Weill ma þou wit,
Quhair knoppis hit
Maid wondis full wyde.
ffor þe, man, þou sall vnderstande,
In body, heid, fute and hande,
ffyve hundreth woundis, & fyve thousande,
And þairto sexty
And fyftene,
Was taulde & sene
On my body.
In body, heid, fute and hande,
ffyve hundreth woundis, & fyve thousande,
And þairto sexty
And fyftene,
Was taulde & sene
On my body.
Behalde, on me nocht hale was left—
And ȝit, fra me or þou war reft,
All thir panis, I wald tholl eft
And for the de.
Heir may thou se
Þat I luf the
Moist hertfullie.
And ȝit, fra me or þou war reft,
All thir panis, I wald tholl eft
And for the de.
Heir may thou se
Þat I luf the
Moist hertfullie.
154
Sen I throu lufe hes bocht þe deir,
As þou thy-self þe suth seis heir,
I pray the hertlie, with gude cheir,
Luffe me agane
That it like me,
Þat for þe
Thollis all this pane.
As þou thy-self þe suth seis heir,
I pray the hertlie, with gude cheir,
Luffe me agane
That it like me,
Þat for þe
Thollis all this pane.
Gif þou þi life in syn hes led,
To ask me marcy, be þou nocht dred,
ffor þe lest drop I for þe sched
May clenge þe sone,
And all þe syn,
þis warld within,
That þou hes done.
To ask me marcy, be þou nocht dred,
ffor þe lest drop I for þe sched
May clenge þe sone,
And all þe syn,
þis warld within,
That þou hes done.
I wes wraithar with Iudas
ffor he wald me na marcy as,
Than I wes for his gret trespas
Quhen he me sauld.
I wes reddy
to gif marcy—
Ask he nocht wald.
ffor he wald me na marcy as,
Than I wes for his gret trespas
Quhen he me sauld.
I wes reddy
to gif marcy—
Ask he nocht wald.
Cayam, þat his brothir sleuch,
Mycht haue had marcy weill aneuch,
Bot wanhop him fra mercy dreuch—
He wald ask nane.
Thairfor in hell,
euer to duell,
His saule Is gane.
Mycht haue had marcy weill aneuch,
Bot wanhop him fra mercy dreuch—
He wald ask nane.
Thairfor in hell,
euer to duell,
His saule Is gane.
155
Sanct peter, þat me thris forsuke
Apoun a nycht, as sayis þe buke,
Vnto my mercy he him tuke—
My marcy gat he—
In hert had cair
Þat he sa sair
Had grevit me.
Apoun a nycht, as sayis þe buke,
Vnto my mercy he him tuke—
My marcy gat he—
In hert had cair
Þat he sa sair
Had grevit me.
Paule, Magdalen and mony ma,
That in þis warld wrocht mekill wa,
Without marcy paste nocht me fra,
Quhen thai It aste.
But þair askyng
in alkin thing
Thai had als fast.
That in þis warld wrocht mekill wa,
Without marcy paste nocht me fra,
Quhen thai It aste.
But þair askyng
in alkin thing
Thai had als fast.
The theif þat hang on my rycht syid,
Ane littill quhile befor he deit,
Eftir mercy sa fast he cryit
On reuthfull wise.
Thairfor with me
þe day Is he
In paradice.
Ane littill quhile befor he deit,
Eftir mercy sa fast he cryit
On reuthfull wise.
Thairfor with me
þe day Is he
In paradice.
I wer full laith for-suth to tyne
Thy saule, I wane with mekill pyne,
All þe defalt it salbe þin
Gif I þe þarne.
Now ask mercy,
þi fader am I,
And thou my barne.
Thy saule, I wane with mekill pyne,
All þe defalt it salbe þin
Gif I þe þarne.
Now ask mercy,
þi fader am I,
And thou my barne.
156
Now luke þat I find þe kind,
And haue my passioun in þi mynd,
And sickerly þou sall me find
Kindle the to,
Helpand in neid
in alkin deid
Thou hes ado.
And haue my passioun in þi mynd,
And sickerly þou sall me find
Kindle the to,
Helpand in neid
in alkin deid
Thou hes ado.
I[n]steid of luf nocht ask I the,
Bot faynd þe fast fra syn to fle;
Pane the to leife in cherite
Baith nycht and day.
Than in my blis,
þat neuer sall mys,
Thou sall duell ay.
Bot faynd þe fast fra syn to fle;
Pane the to leife in cherite
Baith nycht and day.
Than in my blis,
þat neuer sall mys,
Thou sall duell ay.
Now, Ihū, for thy gret gudnes,
As thow for man thollit herdnes,
Grant ws to lef in cleynes,
And marcy send.
And grant ws grace
to se thy face
In hewin but end.
As thow for man thollit herdnes,
Grant ws to lef in cleynes,
And marcy send.
And grant ws grace
to se thy face
In hewin but end.
Amen.
103. Woefully Arrayed
Ho-sumeuer saith þis praier in þe worship of þe
passion shall haue .C. ȝere of pardon
Wofully araide,
My blode, man, ffor the ran,
hit may not be naide,
My body blo and wanne,
Wofully araide.
My blode, man, ffor the ran,
hit may not be naide,
My body blo and wanne,
Wofully araide.
157
Beholde me, I pray þe, with all thyne hole reson,
and be not hard hertid, for this encheson
þat I, for thi saule sake was slayne, in good seson,
Begilid and be-traide by Iudas fals treson,
Vnkindly intretid,
With sharp corde sore fretid,
Þe Iues me thretid,
The mowid, they spittid and dispisid me,
Condemned to deth as þu maiste se.
and be not hard hertid, for this encheson
þat I, for thi saule sake was slayne, in good seson,
Begilid and be-traide by Iudas fals treson,
Vnkindly intretid,
With sharp corde sore fretid,
Þe Iues me thretid,
The mowid, they spittid and dispisid me,
Condemned to deth as þu maiste se.
Thus nakid am I nailid, O man, for thi sake.
I loue þe, þenne loue me. Why slepist þu? awake!
Remember my tender hert-rote for the brake,
With paynes my vaines constrayned to crake.
This was I defasid,
Thus was my flesh rasid,
And I to deth chasid.
like a lambe led vnto sacrefise,
slayne I was in most cruell wise.
I loue þe, þenne loue me. Why slepist þu? awake!
Remember my tender hert-rote for the brake,
With paynes my vaines constrayned to crake.
This was I defasid,
Thus was my flesh rasid,
And I to deth chasid.
like a lambe led vnto sacrefise,
slayne I was in most cruell wise.
Of sharp thorne, I haue worne a crowne, on my hed,
So rubbid, so bobbid, so rufulle, so red,
Sore payned, sore strayned, and for þi loue ded.
Vnfayned, not demed, my blod for þe shed,
My fete and handis sore,
With sturde naylis bore;
What myght I suffer more
þen I haue sufferde, man, for þe?
Com when þu wilt, and welcome to me.
So rubbid, so bobbid, so rufulle, so red,
Sore payned, sore strayned, and for þi loue ded.
Vnfayned, not demed, my blod for þe shed,
My fete and handis sore,
With sturde naylis bore;
What myght I suffer more
þen I haue sufferde, man, for þe?
Com when þu wilt, and welcome to me.
DEre brother, non other thing I desire,
But geue me thi hert fre, to rewarde myne hire.
I am he that made þe erth, water and fire.
Sathanas, þat slouen and right lothely sire,
Hym haue I ouer-caste,
In hell presoune bounde faste,
Wher ay his woo shall laste.
I haue puruaide a place full clere
ffor mankynde, whom I haue bought dere.
But geue me thi hert fre, to rewarde myne hire.
I am he that made þe erth, water and fire.
Sathanas, þat slouen and right lothely sire,
158
In hell presoune bounde faste,
Wher ay his woo shall laste.
I haue puruaide a place full clere
ffor mankynde, whom I haue bought dere.
[_]
Who-sumeuer saith this deuotely hathe grauntid be diuers Bisshopis saing at the laste ende fiue pater nosters and fiue Aues .CCCCCC. dayes of pardon.
104. ‘Unkind Man, Take Heed of Me’
Vnkinde man, take hede of mee!Loke, what payne I suffer for the.
sinfull man, to the I crie,
only for the I die.
beholde, the bloode of my handis downe renneth,
not for my gilte but for youre sinnes,
fote and hande with nailes so ben faste,
that sinoes & vaines alto-berste.
The blood of myne hert rote,
Loke, how hit stremyth downe by my fote.
Ouer all theeis paines þat I suffer so sore,
With myne herte hit greuith me more,
þat I vnkindnes finde in the
þat for thi loue hongid vpon a tree.
159
105. ‘Why Art Thou, Man, Unkind?’
Late as I wente one myne pleynge
I set my herte all in solase.
Criste one a crosse I sawe hangynge,
That dyede for mane withoute trespas.
To mane he cried and sayde, ‘alas!
Why art þu, mane, vnkynde to me?
And now I dye to geve þe grace,
Quid vltra debui facere?’
I set my herte all in solase.
Criste one a crosse I sawe hangynge,
That dyede for mane withoute trespas.
To mane he cried and sayde, ‘alas!
Why art þu, mane, vnkynde to me?
And now I dye to geve þe grace,
Quid vltra debui facere?’
Criste Ihū þies wordes may saye
To euery creature þat is vnkynde:
‘What shulde I more, mane, I þe praye,
Haue do for þe þat is be-hynde?
Thou art þe fayrest creature in kynde,
ffor I þe made ouer, lyke to me,
And gave þe reason, with witte & mynde,
Quid vltra debui facere?
To euery creature þat is vnkynde:
‘What shulde I more, mane, I þe praye,
Haue do for þe þat is be-hynde?
Thou art þe fayrest creature in kynde,
ffor I þe made ouer, lyke to me,
And gave þe reason, with witte & mynde,
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘I love þe, mane, a-boue all þynge,
Therfor for þe I wolde be bore,
And all for I wolde þe to blisse brynge.
What shulde I þanne for þe do more?
ffor Adam synne þu were forlore,
And lyke for euer perisshid to be,
Yt I woll to blisse þe restore,
Quid vltra debui facere?
Therfor for þe I wolde be bore,
And all for I wolde þe to blisse brynge.
What shulde I þanne for þe do more?
ffor Adam synne þu were forlore,
And lyke for euer perisshid to be,
Yt I woll to blisse þe restore,
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘I muste love þe, I maye none oþer,
Therfor love me a-gayne,
Or ellys þu art an vnkynde broþer.
My love to haue þu shuldest be fayne:
In nede I þe helpe with myght & mayne,
And now one þe crosse I dye for the,
And suffir þornes to perich my brayne.
Quid vltra debui facere?
Therfor love me a-gayne,
Or ellys þu art an vnkynde broþer.
My love to haue þu shuldest be fayne:
160
And now one þe crosse I dye for the,
And suffir þornes to perich my brayne.
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘My hondes for þe on þe crosse bene spredde,
To shew þe mercy yf þou wilt craue.
Me to offende þu shuldest be adrad,
ffor yf þu do wel I wol þe saue.
Whane þu art dede and lefte in grave,
[And all thy frendes from the flee,]
Yt þy sowle I seke to save,
Quid vltra debui facere?
To shew þe mercy yf þou wilt craue.
Me to offende þu shuldest be adrad,
ffor yf þu do wel I wol þe saue.
Whane þu art dede and lefte in grave,
[And all thy frendes from the flee,]
Yt þy sowle I seke to save,
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Whane I made þe to my lykenesse,
I made þe lorde Above all þynge,
And gave to þe all plentousnesse
Of fisshes þat arne in þe see swymmyng;
And ouer all bestes þat are crepynge
On erthe I made þe lorde to be,
And ouer all fovles in þe eyre fleynge.
Quid ultra debui facere?
I made þe lorde Above all þynge,
And gave to þe all plentousnesse
Of fisshes þat arne in þe see swymmyng;
And ouer all bestes þat are crepynge
On erthe I made þe lorde to be,
And ouer all fovles in þe eyre fleynge.
Quid ultra debui facere?
‘I made þe sonne with sterres of hevene,
The mone also with bryght shynynge,
And sette þe sterres with planetis vije—
All þis I did for þy plesaunce.
And of þe erth I made to sprynge
Erbis and treis in þer degre,
Her frute to bere to þy norishynge.
Quid vltra debui facere?
The mone also with bryght shynynge,
And sette þe sterres with planetis vije—
All þis I did for þy plesaunce.
And of þe erth I made to sprynge
Erbis and treis in þer degre,
Her frute to bere to þy norishynge.
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Ther myght neuer creature one me pleyne,
And seye þat I was vnkynde,
ffor to helpe þe I haue ben fayne,
But yt one þis þu hast no mynde.
To save mane yt was devyned
That I shulde dye vpone a tre;
Wherfor for þe I was pyned,
Quid vltra debui facere?
And seye þat I was vnkynde,
ffor to helpe þe I haue ben fayne,
But yt one þis þu hast no mynde.
161
That I shulde dye vpone a tre;
Wherfor for þe I was pyned,
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Grete love I shewid whanne I þe made
Of erth, a creature most excellent.
Yf kyndnesse þanne in þe þou hadde,
Thow shuldest love me with good entent.
Mane, thy soule I made represent
To þe lykenesse of þe trinite,
ffor þou shuldest love as I went.
Quid vltra debui facere?
Of erth, a creature most excellent.
Yf kyndnesse þanne in þe þou hadde,
Thow shuldest love me with good entent.
Mane, thy soule I made represent
To þe lykenesse of þe trinite,
ffor þou shuldest love as I went.
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Though þou haue synned, yt come to me
And aske mercy with mekenesse,
ffor mercy to geve I am redy,
Thus shewith experience by expresse.
ffor I shewid neuer yt no orȝelnesse
to synfull mane þat askyth mercy,
Yt euer þu shewist vnkyndnesse.
Quid vltra debui facere?
And aske mercy with mekenesse,
ffor mercy to geve I am redy,
Thus shewith experience by expresse.
ffor I shewid neuer yt no orȝelnesse
to synfull mane þat askyth mercy,
Yt euer þu shewist vnkyndnesse.
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘I gave þe Reasoun and eyene clere,
To teche þe flee from all evyll;
And also erys þu hast to here,
And in þy sovle I sette fre vill.
And now I hange on caluery hill,
Naylid one crosse with naylys thre.
To save þe, mane, þu shuldest not spill,
Quid vltra debui facere?
To teche þe flee from all evyll;
And also erys þu hast to here,
And in þy sovle I sette fre vill.
And now I hange on caluery hill,
Naylid one crosse with naylys thre.
To save þe, mane, þu shuldest not spill,
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Whanne mane had synned, to hym I sende
Patriarkes, profettes and postels also,
Trwe prechours to teche him to Amende,
That mys had done to twynne me fro.
And to save from endles woo
I ordeyned of penaunce partys thre.
Why hatist þu me, mane, why art þu me foo?
Quid vltra debui facere?
Patriarkes, profettes and postels also,
Trwe prechours to teche him to Amende,
That mys had done to twynne me fro.
162
I ordeyned of penaunce partys thre.
Why hatist þu me, mane, why art þu me foo?
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘Rather þan thou dampned shulde be,
I from hewene agayne wolde discende
And grevouser deth yt to suffir for þe.
Why wrathis þu me? I nouȝte offende,
All þat þe nedeth to þe I sende;
And now one þe crosse, as þu maiste se,
My body is scourged and all to-rente.
Quid vltra debui facere?
I from hewene agayne wolde discende
And grevouser deth yt to suffir for þe.
Why wrathis þu me? I nouȝte offende,
All þat þe nedeth to þe I sende;
And now one þe crosse, as þu maiste se,
My body is scourged and all to-rente.
Quid vltra debui facere?
‘I haue not trespasid, why art þu me foo?
Why wratthis þu me þat am þy frende?
Thow hast no cause to fle me fro;
I covet to kepe þe from þe fende,
loo! euer to þe I am hende.
Yf þu aske mercy with humylite,
I wyll be for þe at þynne ende.
Quid vltra debui facere?’
Why wratthis þu me þat am þy frende?
Thow hast no cause to fle me fro;
I covet to kepe þe from þe fende,
loo! euer to þe I am hende.
Yf þu aske mercy with humylite,
I wyll be for þe at þynne ende.
Quid vltra debui facere?’
ffinis
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |