 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
273
SONGS AGAINST VICES.
178. Medicines to Cure the Deadly Sins
As I walkyd vppone a day
To take þe aere off feld and flowre,
In a mery morenynge off may
When fflowrys were ffull off swete flauowre,
I hurd one say, ‘O god verray,
How longe shall I dure yn my dolour!’
And one his kneys he began to pray:
‘Now, good god, send me thy succour,
Maryes sone, most off honour,
Thatt ryche and poore may po[nyche] and plese.
Now geve me lyfe yn my langour,
And yeve vs lycence to lyfe yn ese.’
To take þe aere off feld and flowre,
In a mery morenynge off may
When fflowrys were ffull off swete flauowre,
I hurd one say, ‘O god verray,
How longe shall I dure yn my dolour!’
And one his kneys he began to pray:
‘Now, good god, send me thy succour,
Maryes sone, most off honour,
Thatt ryche and poore may po[nyche] and plese.
Now geve me lyfe yn my langour,
And yeve vs lycence to lyfe yn ese.’
To lyfe yn ese and his lawys to kepe,
Grawnt me, god, yn blysse so bryght;
And withyn þat cabone lett vs neuer crepe
Ther as lucifer lyeth, I-lok withowt eny lyght.
My dedly wowndis ere derne and depe,
I haue no place to represse þem aryght,
And smertynge wyll nott suffer me to slepe
Tyll a leche with dewte haue them dyght.
Hitt most be a curate, a crownyd wyght,
Þatt knew the querely off bene & pese;
And els thes medicynys haue no myght
To geve vs lycense to lyve yn ese.
Grawnt me, god, yn blysse so bryght;
And withyn þat cabone lett vs neuer crepe
Ther as lucifer lyeth, I-lok withowt eny lyght.
My dedly wowndis ere derne and depe,
I haue no place to represse þem aryght,
And smertynge wyll nott suffer me to slepe
Tyll a leche with dewte haue them dyght.
Hitt most be a curate, a crownyd wyght,
Þatt knew the querely off bene & pese;
And els thes medicynys haue no myght
To geve vs lycense to lyve yn ese.
A wykkyd wownde that hath me walt
And traveld my body fro top to þe too,
This wykkid wordyll hitt is I-calt
Thatt hath many a blayne bothe blak & blo.
Hitt hath me hurt and made me halt,
My hert, my hondys, my hed also,
Nere I had be baptisyd yn watyr and salt
Thatt fervent ffester wold nevyr me fro.
Thatt lech þat lyssyd lazer and moo,
David and daniel off ther disese,
Amend þes wondis thatt doth me this woo,
And geve me lycence to lyve yn ese.
And traveld my body fro top to þe too,
This wykkid wordyll hitt is I-calt
Thatt hath many a blayne bothe blak & blo.
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My hert, my hondys, my hed also,
Nere I had be baptisyd yn watyr and salt
Thatt fervent ffester wold nevyr me fro.
Thatt lech þat lyssyd lazer and moo,
David and daniel off ther disese,
Amend þes wondis thatt doth me this woo,
And geve me lycence to lyve yn ese.
This wownd is noryssher off wowndis sevyn:
Superbia he is the principall—
Pride pertely yn english stevyn—
He is more bitter þan venyn or gall.
To hym I haue had lechis a-levyn
And þey haue geve medycyns all;
Butt þe soveraynest medicyn vndyr hevyn
Hit growith yn grownd noþer yn wall—
Humilitas I hurd a lech hit call—
Had I hym þan I were att ese.
God, send [hit] me thatt [am] syke thrall,
And geve vs lycence to lyve yn ese.
Superbia he is the principall—
Pride pertely yn english stevyn—
He is more bitter þan venyn or gall.
To hym I haue had lechis a-levyn
And þey haue geve medycyns all;
Butt þe soveraynest medicyn vndyr hevyn
Hit growith yn grownd noþer yn wall—
Humilitas I hurd a lech hit call—
Had I hym þan I were att ese.
God, send [hit] me thatt [am] syke thrall,
And geve vs lycence to lyve yn ese.
Ira is the secund wownd,
He ramagith sore both raw and rede;
All my cors he doith confownd,
So sore he swellith yn hert and hed.
I know none herbe thatt growith yn grownd,
Nothir no corsiff, will qwinch his quede;
Butt louage with-yn a litill stownde
will make hym dry and wex all dedde.
God, yeve me grace to sow sum lovage sede
Þatt yn my gardyn may rote areyse,
& els, as seker as men etyth brede,
shall we neuer haue lycence to lyve yn ese.
He ramagith sore both raw and rede;
All my cors he doith confownd,
So sore he swellith yn hert and hed.
I know none herbe thatt growith yn grownd,
Nothir no corsiff, will qwinch his quede;
Butt louage with-yn a litill stownde
will make hym dry and wex all dedde.
God, yeve me grace to sow sum lovage sede
Þatt yn my gardyn may rote areyse,
& els, as seker as men etyth brede,
shall we neuer haue lycence to lyve yn ese.
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Inuidia the third wownd is,
A gritter gnawer þan ffelone or gowte;
A is a wykkid wownd I-wis,
Þer he hath pour to reyse and rowte.
The kynde off the wownde for soth is þis,
To brenne the brest withyn and withowt;
I askyd a leche how I myght me lys,
He toke me charitas I-knytt yn a clowte.
He bade me bawme me þer-with all a-bowte,
And than he wold begynne to water and wese;
And þen sone after, withowt any dowte,
Thow shalt haue licence to lyve yn ese.
A gritter gnawer þan ffelone or gowte;
A is a wykkid wownd I-wis,
Þer he hath pour to reyse and rowte.
The kynde off the wownde for soth is þis,
To brenne the brest withyn and withowt;
I askyd a leche how I myght me lys,
He toke me charitas I-knytt yn a clowte.
He bade me bawme me þer-with all a-bowte,
And than he wold begynne to water and wese;
And þen sone after, withowt any dowte,
Thow shalt haue licence to lyve yn ese.
Auaricia is an horribill sore,
He doth me dere both nyght and day;
ffor evyr he covetith more and more
Off plastris than I purvay may.
I askid a mastir off ffysyke lore,
How I myght make hyme dry and vanysh away.
Elemosina was a gentyll herbe þer-for,
I-wis one þe best þat evyr he say;
‘Take and a-noynte hym ther-with evyr when þou may,
And thinke how requiem yn thy rent shall sese,
And then sone aftyr with-yn a short day,
Thow shalt haue lycence to lyve yn ese.’
He doth me dere both nyght and day;
ffor evyr he covetith more and more
Off plastris than I purvay may.
I askid a mastir off ffysyke lore,
How I myght make hyme dry and vanysh away.
Elemosina was a gentyll herbe þer-for,
I-wis one þe best þat evyr he say;
‘Take and a-noynte hym ther-with evyr when þou may,
And thinke how requiem yn thy rent shall sese,
And then sone aftyr with-yn a short day,
Thow shalt haue lycence to lyve yn ese.’
Accidia is a sowkyng blayne,
He bollith and bladderith with-yn my bowre;
And makith me ffaynt both flessh and vayne,
And kepith me yn cowch like a cowchour.
I hurde off an herbe þatt shold lyse þatt payne,
Men seith hitt berith a dowbyll flour:
Vigilate & orate. Vse well tho twayne,
And hitt shall be-nyme the thi dolour,
As siker as bred is made off flowre.
Smyll ham yn seson with þi nese,
And the swetnes off thatt swete savoure
Shall geve the lycense to lyve yn ese.
He bollith and bladderith with-yn my bowre;
And makith me ffaynt both flessh and vayne,
And kepith me yn cowch like a cowchour.
I hurde off an herbe þatt shold lyse þatt payne,
Men seith hitt berith a dowbyll flour:
Vigilate & orate. Vse well tho twayne,
And hitt shall be-nyme the thi dolour,
276
Smyll ham yn seson with þi nese,
And the swetnes off thatt swete savoure
Shall geve the lycense to lyve yn ese.
Gula is a grevys gall,
He rayvith my rest one my bed;
And straynyth my stomake strayte with-all,
With many a fest when I am full fed.
I walow and weyd as a worme yn a wall
I may nott slepe tyll I haue shamely shed.
Now mercy, lord, on þe I call,
Thatt for vs lett his brest be bled.
A leche hath led his hed to wed
Þatt he wyll make me a playster þatt shall me plese
Off abstinencia, & I hym hed
Shold geve me license to lyve yn ese.
He rayvith my rest one my bed;
And straynyth my stomake strayte with-all,
With many a fest when I am full fed.
I walow and weyd as a worme yn a wall
I may nott slepe tyll I haue shamely shed.
Now mercy, lord, on þe I call,
Thatt for vs lett his brest be bled.
A leche hath led his hed to wed
Þatt he wyll make me a playster þatt shall me plese
Off abstinencia, & I hym hed
Shold geve me license to lyve yn ese.
Luxuria is a lither mormale,
A mercy! lorde, full of pyte,
My brokyll body he bryngith yn bale,
And ffrayeth my sowle yn frayalte.
Sum tyme a surgeryn told me a tale,
This was þe lesson þatt he lerid me:
The rote off an herbe I shold vpp hale,
That clerkis callith castitas fre.
‘Pownd hym and temper hym with penitence,
When þe rebaude will on þe rese,
Drayne hym & drynke hym with confessioun,
Than shalt thow haue lycense to lyve yn ese.’
A mercy! lorde, full of pyte,
My brokyll body he bryngith yn bale,
And ffrayeth my sowle yn frayalte.
Sum tyme a surgeryn told me a tale,
This was þe lesson þatt he lerid me:
The rote off an herbe I shold vpp hale,
That clerkis callith castitas fre.
‘Pownd hym and temper hym with penitence,
When þe rebaude will on þe rese,
Drayne hym & drynke hym with confessioun,
Than shalt thow haue lycense to lyve yn ese.’
And othir iij herbis ther beth also
Þat shall save þis sorys, þey shall neuer swell:
The ffirst is cordis contricio,
Þat wasshith the wowndis as doith a well;
The secund is oris confessio,
Þatt wyll nott suffyr no ded flessh dwell;
Operis satisfactio
Þatt soveray[n] sanatyfe sothly to tell.
Now, lord, as thow madyst hevyn, erth and hell,
Geve vs grace hym to serue and plese,
And with-yn his gloryus blysse thatt we all may dwell,
And geve vs there licence to lyve yn ese.
Þat shall save þis sorys, þey shall neuer swell:
The ffirst is cordis contricio,
Þat wasshith the wowndis as doith a well;
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Þatt wyll nott suffyr no ded flessh dwell;
Operis satisfactio
Þatt soveray[n] sanatyfe sothly to tell.
Now, lord, as thow madyst hevyn, erth and hell,
Geve vs grace hym to serue and plese,
And with-yn his gloryus blysse thatt we all may dwell,
And geve vs there licence to lyve yn ese.
179. On Chattering in Church
Tutiuillus, þe deuyl of hell,
He wryteþ har names soþe to tel,
ad missam garulantes.
He wryteþ har names soþe to tel,
ad missam garulantes.
Better wer be at tome for ay,
Þan her to serue þe deuil to pay,
sic vana famulantes.
Þan her to serue þe deuil to pay,
sic vana famulantes.
Þe[s] women þat sitteþ þe church about,
þai beþ al of þe deuelis rowte,
diuina impedientes.
þai beþ al of þe deuelis rowte,
diuina impedientes.
But þai be stil, he wil ham quell,
Wiþ kene crokes draw hem to hell,
ad puteum autem flentes.
Wiþ kene crokes draw hem to hell,
ad puteum autem flentes.
ffor his loue þat ȝou der boȝth,
Hold ȝou stil & Iangel noȝth,
sed prece deponentes.
Hold ȝou stil & Iangel noȝth,
sed prece deponentes.
Þe blis of heuen þan may ȝe wyn;
god bryng vs al to his In,
amen! amen! dicentes.
god bryng vs al to his In,
amen! amen! dicentes.
278
180. Against Traducers
I pray ȝow all with hert & thovȝt
Amend me & peyer me novȝt.
Amend me & peyer me novȝt.
Holy wrytt sayth no thyng sother,
þat no man shuld a-peyer oþer;
Sythen I am in god þi broder,
Amend me & peyer [me novȝt.]
þat no man shuld a-peyer oþer;
Sythen I am in god þi broder,
Amend me & peyer [me novȝt.]
þis in þe gospell ych man may se:
If þi broder trespace to þe,
Betwen ȝow to corectyd he be,
Amend me, &c.
If þi broder trespace to þe,
Betwen ȝow to corectyd he be,
Amend me, &c.
Yf þu se I do gretly amys,
& no man wott butt þu of þis,
Mak it not so yl as it is,
Amend me, &c.
& no man wott butt þu of þis,
Mak it not so yl as it is,
Amend me, &c.
A-peyer no man with þi word,
Neþer in ernest ne In bord;
Let þe tong þat is þi swerd
Amend me, &c.
Neþer in ernest ne In bord;
Let þe tong þat is þi swerd
Amend me, &c.
Lok þat þu no man defame,
Ne a-peyer no mans fame;
Riȝt as þu woldest haue þe sam
Amend, &c.
Ne a-peyer no mans fame;
Riȝt as þu woldest haue þe sam
Amend, &c.
Now to a-mend god ȝyffe vs grace
Of repentance, & very space;
And in hevyn to se hys face,
Wher al thyng amend & peyer novȝth.
Of repentance, & very space;
And in hevyn to se hys face,
Wher al thyng amend & peyer novȝth.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |