University of Virginia Library

[Wolle ȝe nou ihere wordes swiþe gode]

Wolle ȝe nou ihere wordes swiþe gode
Of one patriarke after Noees flode?
Nellic ȝou nouȝt tellen of þis flodes grame,
Bote of one patriarke, Iacob was his name.
While men loueden meri song, gamen & feire tale;
Nou hem is wel leuere gon to þe nale,
Vcchen out þe gurdel & rume þe wombe,
Comen erliche þider & sitte þer ful longe.
Þat is þe soule ful loþ, & lef þe licame,
Bote we hit bileuen, hit biþ a luþer game.
To fullen oure wombe hit is lutel pris,
& seþþe ligge slepe, such hit were a gris.
Þus ferden oure aldren bi Noees dawe,
Of mete & of drinke hi fulden here mawe;
& for ȝiuernesse þei weren riȝt wod;
For þi sende oure Louerd Noees flod.
Þo hi miȝten drinke þat hi weren fulle,
Hi floten swiþe riued bi dich & bi pulle.
Þer nas in þis world hul non so heiȝ,
Þat tis vnirude flod muchel ne ouersteiȝ.
Nou ich wole fon on þer ich er let,
& tellen ou of Iacob, so ich ȝou bihet.
Iacob liuede in londe & louede Godes lawe
So dude Ysaac his fader bi his lifdawe.
Iacob liuede in londe, & feire he ladde his lif,
Sones he wan ten on Lya his wif;
On Rachel he wan tweye, Iosep & Beniamin.
Betere is for to here þis tale þen to drinke win;
For whoso hereþ þis tale to þe nendinge,
Of more reufule song herde he neuere singe.
Nou he sit in halle, Iacob þe elde man,
& his sones alle from felde comeþ hom.
Iacob bihalt his sones, of hem he was bliþe;
& Iosep þe ȝunge bigan to speke swiþe.
His fader he tolde a swefne aniȝt þat him mette
& bad swiþe ȝerne telle þat me him lette.
‘Do nou, mi sone dere, God leue þe so to speke,
Þat tou in none worde his heste ne tobreke.’
‘Vader,’ seide Iosep, ‘nou ich wole þe telle
Of mine metinge & of mine spelle.
Me þuȝte, ase ich slepte, afeld þat we were,
Þou & mi moder & mine breþren here;
& so we repen oure corn & oure sseues knetten,
& vpriȝt in þe felde wel feire we hem setten,
Me þuȝte þat ȝoure sseues, þer hi stoden alle,
To me þei gonnen louten & to mi fet falle.
Ȝit me þuȝte an oþer, fader, God hit wot,
Þat te sunne & þe mone fellen to mi fot.
Ȝit me þuȝte þe þridde, fader, telli þe,
Þat elleue sterren to fote fellen me.
Þis is mi sweuene, fader, þat ich telle þe,
Ȝif hit þi wille were, ared what hit mai be.’
Þenne seide Iacob to Iosep his sone,
‘Tide wat bitide, ȝit wole þi swefne come.
Tide wat bitide, ȝit wole þi swefne be.
Ich wene mid iwisse, ȝut we hit ssulen ise,
Þat ich & þi moder & þine breþren ek
Moten for fine nede comen to þine fet.’
Þis iherden his breþren, þerfore hem was ful wo,
Hi gonnen hatie Iosep ase here fulle fo.
Þau alle his ten breþren þerfore hateden hine,
Þat oure Louerd wole habben ido mai no man binime
Þis breþren wendeþ afeld to witen here fe,
Ac Iosep leuede at hom, þat hende was & fre.
Iacob sit in halle & clepeþ Iosep his sone;
Þat child swiþe sone to his fader is icome.
At his fader fot þat child him sit akne,
& axeþ him wel feire wat his wille be.
Sone seide Iacob, ‘Wende þou most afeld
To seche þine breþren, & wer be here teld.
Bring vs hom tiding hu þine breþren fare.
Vre Louerd, þat is in heuene, berewe þe from care.’
Iosep geþ afeldward, euel ne þouȝte he non,
He wende to sechen his breþren, & souȝte his fulle fon.
He secheþ hem, ne mai he hem finde, þerfore him was wo;
Þenne fond a man al one þe child wondrinde go.
Þis man axede þat child woder he wolde te;
Iosep his breþren secheþ & fain hem wolde ise.
Þe man onswerede þat child, & þus he spac to him,
‘Hi beþ in one felde, hatte Dotaym;
Ac lutel er hi weren in Sichem, bi hem ich stod þo.
Child, ȝif þou hem wolt finde, to Dotaym þu go.
Child, ȝif þou hem wolt finde, to Dotaym þu go riȝt,
Also ich vnderstonde, þer þu hem finde miȝt.’
Iosep mid gode wille þiderward he geþ,
Þer alle hise ten breþren habbeþ isworen his deþ.
He cam toward his breþren, þat ternde ssolde bere,
Hi siggeþ hem bitwene, ‘Her comeþ þe metere.
Nime we & quellen þis ilke hinderling,
& lokeþ wat him ssal helpe þerafter his meting.’
He cam to his breþren & grettem eueruchon;
Hi þencheþ al an oþer, & gripeþ him anon.
Quellen him hi wolleþ, nou hi him habbeþ inome,
Ac Ruben, þat o broþer, he spac atte frome,
‘A dep pet is her bisides þat water er þis in stod;
Worpeþ þerinne Iosep, ssende we nouȝt oure blod,’
(Iosep for to helpe Ruben spac þis tale)
‘Ȝif we þis child aquelleþ, hit beþ oure fader bale.’
His fader him ȝaf a kurtel þat rum was & wid,
Wel hit bicam þe child, hit was him fotsid.
Hi strupten of þe curtel, of swere & of chin,
Al naked in þe pette hi worpen þat child in.
Ac Ruben, þat o broþer, þenne he is igo,
Ne miȝte he for reuþe atte pette be þo.
Þis oþre sitteþ bisides & foþ on here mete,
Þencheþ hi neiþer of serewe ne of hete.
Iosep sit in pette mid ful sori mod,
His breþren lawȝeþ loude, þat gamen hem þinkeþ god.
Nou Iosep sit in pette & wringeþ his honde.
A wey, þat bitwene breþren ssal be þus muchel onde!
Nou drawen him vp hi wolleþ, & quellen him atte frome,
Þenne seien hi bisides twei riche chapmen come.
Vrom a lond hi comen, Galaad ihoten is,
Mid here assen isemed of fer & of gris.
Of stor & of spices þei ladden grete male
Into Egipte lond to sullen hit to sale.
Þenne spac him Iuda, he spac atte frome,
‘Wolle we sullen Iosep þis chapmen þat here come?
Fer into Egypte lond hi him wolleþ lede,
Þenne worþ his sweuen eþ to arede.’
Hi comen to þis chapmen & sseweden here tale,
Iosep in þe pette hi chepeden to sale.
Þis chapmen beþ wise & axeþ wer he be.
‘Comeþ ner,’ hi seiden, ‘& ȝe him mowen ise;
Hit is a swiþe feir child & of kunne heiȝ.’
Mid þat ilke worde þe pet hi weren neiȝ.
Hi drowen vp Iosep mid one longe rope,
Ac one gode while ne miȝte he speke for wope.
Þis chapmen biholdeþ Iosep, þat beþ swiþe wis,
& Iosep to begge swiþe lef hem is.
Hi chepeþ & hi bedeþ, sone hi beþ at on.
Iosep wrang his honden & was ful sori man.
Hi casten hond to purse, þe panes beþ itold;
Nou helpe Crist Iosep, so ȝung he is isold.
Þis chapmen fengeþ þat child, þis breþren þat fe;
Darf no man axe wer Iosep sori be;
For euere ase hi hine ledeþ, euer he wepeþ,
His fader & his moder ȝung he forleteþ.
Þis chapmen beþ wel bliþe þat Iosep habbeþ ibouȝt,
& vpon þe sestronde hi him habbeþ ibrouȝt.
Þis chapmen nimeþ Iosep riȝt bi þe hond,
& so hi ledeþ Iosep into Egipte lond.
Ac of Egiptene speche couþe he no þing,
For þi he wepte sore, þis ilke ȝungling.
Hi ladden Iosep into þe burȝ, þat riche was & strong:
Castles heie & proute, stretes wide & long,
Mani feir halle & mani feir bour,
Whit so eni lilie, briȝt so eni flour.
Muche was þe blisse þat was in þe burȝ,
Iosep for to sullen hi ladden þurȝ & þurȝ.
Þider comen kniȝtes & burgeis ful bolde,
Hi comen into þe strete Iosep to biholde.
Leuedis of boure & maidenes fre
Comen into þe strete Iosep to ise.
Ac þer þuȝte muche wonder mani a moder sone,
Hem þuȝte hit was an angel from heuene icome.
Ful sone þe tiding of Iosep hit sprong
To Putifar þe stiward of Egipte lond.
Putifar þe stiward þider he is icome,
& in his ferade mani a kniȝtes sone.
So sone so þe stiward on Iosep bihuld,
He liȝte of his stede, his mantel he vnfuld,
Cofre he lette vnlouke & gold casten out anon,
Sone he bouȝte Iosep of þis chapmon.
More þen he axede for Iosep he ȝaf,
& seþþen on his stede wel feire he him haf.
Nou lete we Iosep ride, God ssilde him from care,
& vte we speken of Iacob his fader, hou he fare.
Nou he sit in halle, Iacob þe elde man,
& his sones ten from felde comeþ hom,
& Ioseppes curtel hi bringeþ al blodi,
Þo Iacob hit gan biholde iwis he was sori.
Þo he sauȝ his kurtel ispreind al wiþ blod,
Nas neuere for his child fader so sorimod.
Adoun he fel iswowe & tar his hore loc,
Þe moder feng to renden hire neb & hire smoc.
Euer seide þe moder, ‘Wo is me a liue,
For mi sone Iosep be ich neuere bliþe.’
Euere seide Iacob, ‘Iosep is islawe,
Oþer summe luþere deres habbeþ him todrawe.’
Þider comen manie of fremede & o kinne
For to gladen Iacob, ac his sones hadden sinne.
Woso seye Iacob his sorinesse lede,
Hit were muche reuþe in boc for to rede.
Nou Iacob sit in halle & wringeþ his honde,
We ssule speken of Iosep in Egipte londe.
Nou Putifar ssrudeþ Iosep mid dereworþe ssroud,
& ȝiueþ him Pharaon þe king, mid him he is proud.
Nou is Iosep feir child in Pharaones halle,
Þe pore & þe riche louieþ him alle.
Tofore þe king selue he serueþ atte bord,
Of pore & of riche he haþ wel god word.
Hit fel in one daye, þe king was out iwent
To þe wode to ssete mid his bowe ibent.
Þe quene louede Iosep ase hir owe lif,
Heo sente him after sone to speken hire wiþ.
Ac of þisse þinge nuste Iosep riȝt nouȝt:
Aruȝ hit were to knowe alle wimmanes þouȝt.
Ac þer wimman is god, nis non so swete þing,
For al þat euere Eue brac in paradis
Oure leuedi hit bette, þat dereworþest is.
Iosep cam to boure, þat hende was & fre.
‘Leuedi,’ quod Iosep, ‘wat þi wille be?’
‘Iosep,’ quod þe quene, ‘nou þou art welcome,
Nou in mine boure ich þe haue inome.
Ich þe wole tellen one tidinge,
Ich wole þe make richest man after oure kinge.
Þou ssalt habbe þi wil of fer & of gris,
Of gold & of seluer, of al þat feir is.
Þou ssalt haue þi wil of al Egipte londe,
Ssal neuere no man þine heste astonde.
& of one þinge iwis þu miȝt be bliþe,
Þer nis no man me so lef þat euere is aliue.
Ȝif þou canst in boure louie me derne,
Þe prute of Egipte ssal þe nouȝt be werne.’
Mid þat ilke worde heo gan him cluppe & kisse.
‘Iosep, ich am þin,’ heo seide, ‘mid iwisse.’
Iosep of þese wordes nas he no þing glad,
He nolde in none wise don ase þe quene him bad.
Þeiȝ Iosep were in boure stille bisteke,
He nolde in none wise his trouþe tobreke.
Mid his white fingres hire armes he vnfeld,
& wende from þe quene, ac his mantel heo athuld.
Heo braid of hire wimpel & loude feng to reme,
Þer come serians wel fele for to nime ȝeme,
Wat here leuedi miȝte be, þat hem was so lef.
‘A! Lokeþ nou,’ heo seide, ‘þis Ebrewisse þef,
Of me he wende stille to habben his gome,
Nas neuere quene in þis lond ido so muche ssome.’
Þe king cam from þe wode mid blowinde beme,
Þe quene fel to his fet & loude feng to reme,
& tolde þe king of þis muchele ssome,
Þunche hit no wonder þeiȝ he ne hadde grome.
Þe king him lette nime & ful faste binde:
Nou ne mai Iosep nenne frend finde.
Alle þat þis iherde þerfore weren ful wo:
Summe for þe quene, ac for Iosep wel mo.
Nou is Iosep so wo þat he not wat he mai:
Bide neuere no god man non so sori dai.
Ac heuede Iosep ido ase þe quene him bad,
He miȝte ben in halle mid oþre bliþe & glad.
Gulteles in þe pette his breþren hine dude,
& gulteles he is nouþe in ful þestri stede.
Ac þer he is ful longe muche wo to abide,
Oure Louerd he hit þonkeþ, tide wat bitide.
Hit fel in one daye to þe newe ȝer,
Iwreyed was wel stronge þe kinges botiler,
& þe kinges baxtere iwreyed was ful stronge.
To Iosep hi beþ icast, & þer hi liggeþ longe,
& in þe prison liggeþ mid ful muchel wronge.
Nabbeþ hi none blisse of harpe ne of songe,
Of olde ne of ȝunge, of fremede ne of sibbe,
Leuere hem were to be ded þen so longe to libbe.
Hit fel in one niȝte þe botiler feng to slepe,
A swiþe muri sweuene him þuȝte þat he gan mete,
Þat in þe winȝarde þe kinges coupe he ber,
& wrong hit of þe grapes ful of win cler.
Þe baxtere mette an oþer, nas hit nouȝt so god,
In þe bachuse him þuȝte þat he stod,
Of bred he fulde a basket & to þe halle he wolde hit bere,
Þe foules bi þe lifte hit gonnen al totere.
Amorewen ase þei seten wiþ Iosep atte bord,
Here sweuen hi him tolden word after word.
Iosep here sweuen sone haueþ arouȝt.
‘Ȝe ssulen in þis þridde dai of prison ben ibrouȝt.
Þou ssalt, sir baxtere, anhonged be ful heye,
Foules bi þe lifte holen out þin eye.
Þou ssalt, sire botiler, þi mester vnderfonge,
Wiþ alle worssipe mest þe king serue longe.
& wen me serueþ þe king mid harpe & mid songe,
Þench on seli Iosep, þat her liþ mid wronge.’
Also ase Iosep seide, also hit bicam:
Þe botiler of Iosep lute ȝeme nam,
Þat in þe prison liþ mid ful muche wronge.
Naþ he none blisse of harpe ne of songe,
Of olde ne of ȝunge, of fremede ne of sibbe,
Leuere him were to be ded þen so longe to libbe.
Wel ouȝte we to heren him þat is riȝtwis,
& nou ȝe mowen ihere hou hende oure Louerd is,
Hou feire he sende help to Iosep þe ȝungling
Þurȝ a sweuene þat mette Pharaon þe king.
Þe king ase he slepte him þuȝte þat he rod
In a medewe grene þat long was & brod.
Seue kuin fatte him þuȝte þat he sauȝ gon:
So fatte ne so feire sauȝ he neuere non.
Oþer seue lene toȝeines hem gonne gon
& frete þe seue fatte kyn eueruchon.
Þo þe seue fatte kin alle forswolewed were,
Þe seue kin lene neuere þe fullore nere.
Amorewen þe king awoc, his sweuen he tolde
Vrles & barons & burgeis ful bolde.
Ac þer nas neiþer baron ne kniȝt
Þat of þisse þinge couþe reden him aiwiȝt.
Þo herde þe botiler of þisse sweuene speke,
Þo þouȝte he furst on Iosep, þat so longe lai bisteke.
He cam to þe kinge & tolde him anon
Of him & of þe baxtere hou hit was igon.
‘Louerd, of þi sweuene ȝif he ne seiþ þen ende,
Do me, Louerd, aȝein into þine bende.’
Þenne seide Faraon, Faraon þe king,
‘Let bringe bifore me þene ȝungling.
Ȝif he of mi sweuene seiþ me þen ende,
Al his gult ich him forȝiue & quite faten of bende.’
Forþ me feccheþ Iosep, þat bloc was & lene,
Durste for þe quene no man him bimene.
‘Louerd,’ seide Iosep, ‘ich hit þonke þe,
Nou ich wot mid iwisse islawe þat ich ssal be,
Nou ich wot mid iwisse þat ich ssal ben islawe,
For nabbi none blisse of mi lifdawe.’
Ac þe king wel feire his sweuen he tolde,
& bad swiþe feire reden þat he hit ssolde.
‘Louerd,’ seide Iosep, ‘þi sweuen is eþ to telle,
Oure Louerd wole in þi lond muche prude felle.
Ac þou ssalt habbe raþer seue ȝer blisse of alle gode
Þurȝ a swete water ssal comen of Niles flode.
Þou ssalt haue þenne hunger & hete,
Wone of alle gode, of drinken & of mete.
Þis is þi sweuene, sire king, þench þou þeron,
Bote Crist be þin help, Egipte is al agon.’
Heron þe king þencheþ bi niȝt & bi dai,
Not he a liue what he do mai.
Heron þe king þencheþ bi dai & bi niȝt,
Me ne couþe of þis þinge reden him no wiȝt.
Þenne spac an old man þat was wis of speche. [OMITTED]
Wenne ich þenche on Abraham, hou he gan þider wende:
Muche þo þolede Abraham ssame mid his wiue,
& seþþen atte nende of lond me gan him driue.
& wenne þe riȝtwise man þolede such ssome,
Into Egipte to sende þuncheþ me no gome.
Ofte of þis smal chaf þis breþren brouȝten hom,
& for wone of mete maden muche mon.
Beniamin þe ȝunge bad his moder bred,
& seide he was afingred þat he was neiȝ ded.
Þe moder swor swiþe þat bred nadda non,
Þo wrong he his honden, Iacob þe elde man,
For leuere were Iacob of liue for to ben
Þen bi Beniamin þe ȝunge þese pines isen.
Ȝit Beniamin þe ȝunge makeþ muche mon
Þenne clepede Iacob his sones eueruchon.
‘Sones,’ seide Iacob, ‘Nede ȝe mote wende
For to sech vs corn in þissen estende.
For betere ȝou is to swinke & erne ȝoure mete
Þenne at hom to deye on hunger & on hete.
Nimeþ ȝoure assen & nimeþ ȝoure horn,
Nimeþ ȝou seluer & gold to buggen vs corn.
Ac Beniamin þe ȝunge bileue ssal at hom;
Me reweþ euere Iosep þat afelde was igon.
For ȝif he hadde at hom bileued, ȝit he were aliue;
For þe loue of Iosep be ich neuere bliþe.
Nimeþ ȝoure wepnen & wendeþ ȝoure wai,
Berewe ȝou from care oure Louerd, þat wel mai.’
Feire fareþ þis ȝunge men bi dai & bi niȝt
Into Egipte lond þat hi comen riȝt.
Muche was þe blisse & muche was þe gome
In water & in londe of wilde & of tome.
Muche was þe blisse þat hi þar iseye,
Bernes ful riche & mowen ful heye.
Muche was þe blisse after here swinke
Þat hi þare funden of mete & of drinke.
Hem oftok a menestral, his harpe he bar arugge.
‘Whennes be ȝe, ȝunge men? Ich bidde þat ȝe me sigge.
Me þuncheþ bi ȝoure assen þat corn ȝe wolde begge,
& ich ȝou wole bringe to þe tubrugge.
Þar þe hendeste man þat euere is aliue
Ȝou wole gistni toniȝt & make ȝou ful bliþe.
Ȝe þuncheþ ferrene men & alle freboren,
Toniȝt ssal mani kniȝtchild knele ȝou biforen.’
He brouȝtem to þe castel ase he hem bihet,
& spac wiþ þe porter in þat he hem let.
Hi seyen in þe castel mani riche þing,
& Iosep sitten in halle, such hit were a king.
Ac if hi wenden Iosep þer for to sen,
Leuere hem were alle at hom on hunger ded to ben.
Alle þese ten breþren comen into þe halle,
Tofore Ioseppes fet akne hi valleþ alle.
‘Ariseþ vp’, seide Iosep, ‘Sitte ȝe nouȝt akne,
Ac telleþ me wel feire wat ȝoure wille be.’
‘From Ierusalem’, quod Ruben, ‘we beþ hider icome.
Let sullen vs corn, louerd, for Godes loue
Old man is oure fader & corn naþ he non,
For muchel one nede we beþ hider igon.’
Þenne seide Iosep, such hit were his gome,
‘Wat is’, he seide, ‘ȝoure faderes nome?’
‘Vre fader heiȝte Iacob, vre moder Rachel.’
Mid þat ilke worde he knew hem ful wel.
Þo Iosep iherde þat his fader was aliue,
Nas neuere for his fader child also bliþe.
He goþ into þe boure & wepeþ for blisse,
Sore he is alonged his breþren to kisse.
Iosep cam into halle, þe water he lette bringe,
& halde to here honden mid his wite vingres.
Feire beþ þis ȝunge men iserued þilke niȝt
Of mete ne of drinke trukede hem no wiȝt.
Iosep ful riche win lette to him bringe,
& so he bad þis children on Ebrewisse singe.
& so hi sungen alle ase Iosep hem bad,
Seþþe he cam into Egipte nas Iosep so glad.
Al of rede wete here assen he lette seme,
For to meten here corn nam he none ȝeme.
Nou dude Iosep a swiþe wonderþing,
He nam a guldene nap, was Pharaones þe king,
& putte in þones sakke wiþinne þe prene,
& þerof cam þis ȝunge men swiþe muche tene.
Feire hi nomen leue to wenden here way
Toward here contre a lutel ere day.
Ase hi ferden here wai in þe morewentide,
Þenne seyen hi twolf ȝunge men after hem ride
Mid helm & mid brunie, mid swerdes outdrawe,
Þo wenden þese ten breþren alle to ben islawe.
‘Abideþ’, hi seiden, ‘þeues, abideþ, ȝe beþ inome,
Tofore þe stiward aȝein ȝe ssulen alle come
For a guldene nap þat ȝe habbeþ inome.
Ȝif ȝe in þis londe mid þefþe beþ ifonge,
Ȝoure dom is idemed, alle ȝe worþeþ anhonge;
For ȝoure assen isemed al of rede golde
Of Faraones lond þe king faren ȝe ne ssolde.’
Alle þese ten breþren turneþ hem aȝein
Mid reuþfule wepe & mid dreri drem,
Tofore þe stiward aȝein hi beþ alle ibrouȝt,
Þe nap in here sakke sone hit is isouȝt.
Þe nap is ifunde sone & anon,
Nou wringeþ hi here honden þis breþren eueruchon.
Iosep sauȝ his breþren wepe, sore hit him gan rewe,
He nolde in none wise ȝit þat hi him knewe.
Iosep feng þene nap, mid pal he was biweued,
He lokede on his breþren, & ssok on hem his heued.
Awaried worþe swikedom & þat hit erest funde,
So mani gultelese man hit bringeþ to þe grunde.
Þenne seide Iosep to his breþren anon,
‘Habbe ȝe’, he seide, ‘mo breþren at hom?’
‘Ȝe, louerd’, seide Ruben, ‘a child þer is at hom
For to gladen oure fader, þat makeþ muche mon
For a sone þat he les & louede so his lif,
Ne miȝte him seþþe gladien his child no his wif.’
Hi swore bi þilke louerd þat is heiȝ in heuene,
‘More he louede þane sone þan vs alle elleuene.
Þenne seide Iosep, ‘Wolle ȝe me ihere,
Ȝif ȝe of Egiþte lond wolleþ faren skere,
Ich ȝou wolle tellen one tidinge,
Ȝe ssule make me siker þat ilke child me bringe.’
‘Louerd,’ seide Ruben, ‘we ssule ful fain
Beniamin þe bringen & alle comen aȝein
& þi dom þolie when we beþ icome,
Habbe we þe blessinge of oure fader inome.’
Iosep dranc to Ruben mid ful riche win,
& alle hi pliȝten trouþe to bringe Beniamin.
Feire fareþ þis ȝunge men bi dai & bi niȝt
To here fader Iacob þat hi comen riȝt.
& habbeþ to Iacob al þis corn ibrouȝt:
Nou haþ Beniamin inouȝ þat eror he haþ bisouȝt.
Iacob of þis corn was swiþe glad:
Nou haþ Beniamin inouȝ þat he er bad.
Iacob of þis corn aboute sende anon
To frendes þat for hunger maden muche mon.
Ac alle þis ten breþren to fote þei beþ ifalle,
Þe trouþe þat hi pliȝten hi him telleþ alle.
Þo Iacob iherde þis sori tidinge,
Adoun he fel iswowe, his honden he gan wringe.
‘A! wher artou, mi deþ, whi neltou me fonge?
Nou mi wrecchede lif ilast al to longe.
Iloren ich haue Iosep, þat ich louede so swiþe,
& nou ich ssal Beniamin, be ich neuere bliþe.
Ac nellich nouȝt, mine sones, ȝoure trouþe þat ȝe breke,
Oure Louerd, wen his wille is, wel he me mai awreke.’
Þis breþren nimeþ Beniamin & forþ hi hine ledeþ,
Iacob falleþ iswowe & for serewe gredeþ.
Feire fareþ þis ȝunge men bi dai & bi niȝt
Into Egipte lond þat hi comen riȝt.
Hi comen into þe castel þer Iosep was in,
Ruben him bitecheþ his broþer Beniamin.
Þo Iosep isauȝ his breþren alle elleuene,
Him þuȝte þat he was bliþore þen þauȝ he were in heuene.
He goþ into þe boure & wepeþ for blisse,
Sore he is alonged his breþren to kisse.
‘Louerd,’ seide Iosep, ‘ich hit þonke þe,
Nou þe eleue sterren icomen beþ to me.
Mi fader & mi moder haddich iwonne,
Þenne hadde ich iwis þe mone & þe sunne.
Feire beþ þis ȝunge men iserued þilke niȝt,
Of mete ne of drinke trukede hem no wiȝt.
Iosep cam to þe bord, anon he hem tolde
‘Ich am,’ he seide, ‘Iosep, into Egipte þat ȝe solde.’
& so he geþ to boure riȝt from þe bord,
& wepeþ for blisse þat he ne mai speken a word.
Þenne seide Ruben, ‘Ne seidich ȝou inouȝ,
To sungen on þat child þat ȝe hadden wouȝ.
Nolde ȝe me ileue ȝoure neuer on,
Nou is icome þe time þat we beþ alle agon.’
Iosep cam into halle & sauȝ his breþren wepe,
He kisseþ Beniamin anon, his neb he gan wipe,
& so he goþ bi rewe & kusseþ hem eueruchon,
Seþþe he cam into Egypte nas he so bliþe man.
Þenne seide Iosep to his breþren anon,
‘Þe sweuene þat me mette, ȝit nis hit nouȝt agon.
Ac ase ȝe wolleþ, breþren, þat ich be aliue,
Ȝe ssule fecchen oure fader & maken him ful bliþe,
& oure kun alle & oure nextfolde,
Þat ich mowe in þis lond here lif holde.
For þe hunger haþ ibe two ȝer swiþe strong,
& ȝit hit lasteþ fiue, & þat is al to long.’
Feire he ssrudde his breþren mid dereworþe cloþ,
His breþren þat rideþ & here men þat goþ.
Of fiss & of flesse, of foules ibake,
He lette senden in cartes to his fader sake,
Cloþes of skarlet & of sabelin,
Of honi & of corn, of fruit & of win,
Nappes of seluer & ringes of golde,
& alle prudene mest þat hi leden wolde.
Feire fareþ þis ȝunge men bi dai & bi niȝt
To here fader Iacob þat hi comen riȝt.
& habbeþ to Iacob ibrouȝt al þis þing,
& seggeþ þat Iosep is in Egipte ase heiȝ as a king.
Þo Iacob iherde þat Iosep was aliue,
Nas neuere for his child fader so bliþe.
He caste awei his crucche, his mantel he feng,
Feire he platte his her wiþ a selkene streng.
He toc his benetene hat wiþ pal þat was biweued.
‘Of sor & of serewe nou ich am bireued,
For nou me þuncheþ þat ich mai flen as an ern
For þe loue of Iosep, mi leueste bern.’
Iacob rod singinde, such hit were a child,
‘For þe loue of Iosep nou ich am ȝung & wild.’
Þo Iosep iherde of his fader come,
Kniȝtes inowe mid him he haþ inome,
Mid harpe & mid pipe, mid ioie & mid songe
Mid alle worssipe mest his fader to vnderfonge.
Ich ȝou mai telle & ich ȝou mai singe
Þat bliþe was Pharaon of Ioseppes þinge.
& lond swiþe riche bi þe seeside
He haþ to Iacob iȝiue & castles heye & wide.
Nou haueþ Iacob wele & alle winne
Mid his sones twolue & mid his oþer kunne.
Þe blisse is ful swete þat comeþ after wo,
Wel is him a liue þat his care mot atgo.
Nou þuncheþ Iacob his lif swiþe swete
Of Iacob to telle nou ich mot nede lete.
Come neuere to þis hous worse tidinge
Bote alle worssipe mest & Cristes blessinge.