Handlyng Synne :: :: University of Virginia Library

God almyȝty, þat al þyng weldes,
wyndës, watrys, wodes, & feldes,
As soþely as þou madest of noȝt
Alle créatures þat euer were wroȝt,
Forȝyue me, to day, Lorde, my synne,
Þat y þys wrþys sacrament mowe begynne,
And wurschypfully þar-of to speke,
Þat we þe beleuë neuer breke;
Ne for to tellë, yn þys long,
Þyng, þat falle-of, may any wrong,
But þat máy be, þe to queme,
And vs yn stedfaste beleue to ȝeme.

Goddës sone, of heuene a-boue,
He shewed vs alle, for gretë loue;
For whan hys passyun neyghed nye,
To hys dyscyplys þat were hym bye,
He ȝaue hys body hem to fede,—
More loue ne myȝt he shewe yn dede,—
Þat þey shuldë myndë haue
On hym, þat he myȝt hem saue;
Ȝyt aftyrward he lete hym slo
with ful vyle deþ, and pynyng wo;
For vs, and hem, ded he þys,
To bryngë vs echone to blys,
Ne more loue ne myȝt he do,
Ne neuer man, myȝt so do;
For vs he ded hyt, þys ys certeyn,
Þat we shuld loue hym weyl aȝen;
Þogh we vs self ȝaf an hundryd syþe,
O poynt of loue ne myȝt we kyþe
vn-to þe loue þat he haþ vs doun,
For hyt ys oure saluacyun;
And of vs, askeþ he ryȝt noȝt

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But þat may weyl y-nogh be wroȝt,
No þyng but loue-longyng,
To loue hym weyl ouer alle þyng,
And for hys loue to leuë synne;
hys loue, hys blys, þan mow we wynne;
For þou mayst neuer haue hym to þe,
But, þou wylt fyrst synnë fle;
Alle þyng he loueþ, but synne he hates;

[_]

steynyst

Ȝyf þou hym louest, with synne þou wlates.
Ȝyf þou loue one, þe behoueþ nedes
Forsake þat þyng þat he þe forbedes;
Elles, hyt ys tolde no loue,
And namëly to God a-boue.

And þou mayst nat loue hym with no greyth,
But þou haue of hym gode feyþe,
Þat ys to seye, to beleue hyt weyl,
Alle þat ys wryte of hym euerydeyl.
Stedfast beleue, of loue hyt comes;
And of beleuë, loue men nomes:
So ys þe toon with þe touþer;
with stedfast beleue, loue ys þe broþer.

To whom ogh þan oure loue be went,
But to þe beleue of þys sacrament?
Þys, oght to beleue, euery crysten man,
And lerne þe beleue of one þat kan,
‘Þat þe bred þat sacred ys
At þe auter, ys Goddys flessh:’
Boþe flesshe and blodë þer ys leyd,
Þurgh þe wurdes þat þe prest haþ seyd,
Þat lyȝte with-ynne þe vyrgyne Marye,
And on þe rode for vs wulde deye,
And fro deþ to lyue he ros,
God and man, yn myȝt and los.

For who so beleueþ nat clere
yn þe sacrament of þe autere,

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He shal neuer þe blys a-byde,
For no þyng þat may betyde.

Yn þe oldë lawë, þus ys wryte,
Boþe Iewes and crysten weyl hyt wete,
“God seyd, and hyt was wroȝt;
he commaunded alle þyng of noȝt.”
Þese wurdës are verry and clere;
Dauyd hem seyth yn þe sautere;
Syn he made alle þat noȝt er was,
lesse maystry were hyt þan yn kas,
For to chaunge þe lekënes
Yn-to an ouþer þyng þat es;
þe lykënes of bred and wyne,
Yn flesshe and blode to turne hyt ynne;
Yn flessh and blode þe brede be broȝt,
Syn he madë alle of noȝt.

Ȝyf þou se hyt nat with bodly syȝt,
Þy soule with-ynne shal beleue hyt ryȝt;
And ȝyf þou felë no sauour,
But ryghtely wyne, and brede of flour,
Þat ys þe wysdom of Goddys ordynaunce
For to saue vs alle fro þys chaunce;
For ȝyf hyt fyl, as flesshe to take,
wlate we shulde, and hyt forsake;
And for he wulde nat men hyt forsoke,
But þat alle men hyt vndyrtoke,
Þarfore hys wysdom, hys ownë rede,
Sauerþ hyt yn wyne and brede;
Hyt semeþ bredë, as be syȝt,
And as brede, sauer haþ ryȝt;
Noþyr þe syȝt, noþer þe felyng,
Haþ þer-of any certeyn þyng;
what shal þan, þe most saue,
But stedfast beleue þat þou shalt haue?
Stedfast beleue of euery deyl,
Þat shal þan, saue þe weyl.

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And some haue sey hyt bodyly,
To whom he shewed hys mercy;
Lo here a tale for of ȝow sum,
Þat y fonde yn ‘vitas patrum.’

[The Tale of the Priest for whom the Sacramental Bread and Wine were turnd into a Child's Flesh and Blood.]

Þyr was a man of relygyoun;
Of almës he had grete renoun;
But, for þe fende wulde haue hym shent,
He beleued nat yn þe sacrament,
And seyd ‘hyt was nat Ihesu
Þat conceyued was þurgh vertu;
Ne Ihesu was nat þe oblé
Þat reysed was at þe sacré;
And þo þat wurschep ded þarto,
To beleue hyt, was nat to do.’

Byfore twey abbotes þus he tolde;
Þese abbotes wryte þys tale to holde;
hyt oght be tolde to euery wham
Þat ys aȝens þe crystendam,
Tyl hyt be preued with clergye
wheþer hyt be beleue or erysye.

Þese abbotes shewed hym þe ryȝt weye
with alle þe ensamples þat þey coude seye;
And he seyd ‘þat hyt was lye,
But ȝyf he sagh hyt with hys ye.’
“Doþe þan so þat y hyt se,
Þan wyl y beleue þat hyt may be.”

Þese abbotes preyd a ful seuen nyȝt
Þat God wulde shewe hym, þurgh hys myȝt,
Yn flesshe and blode on þe autere,

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To cónferme hys beleuë clere;
And hym-self preyd specyaly
Þat God wulde shewe hym also yn body;
“Lorde,” he seyde, “for no mysbeleue
Þat þou shuldest, with me þe greue,
But for to shewe þe ryȝt soþenes
Þat þou art þe sacrament of þe messe,
Þat y may make ouþer certeyn
whan y with yën haue þe seyn!”

Þe abbotes lay yn orysun
Tyl alle þe seuen nyȝt were doun;
þe seuenþe day, to þe cherche þey cam,
And þe touþer man with hem þey nam;
A sege was ordeyned for hem þre
To beholdë alle þe pryuyte
Of þat holy sacrament
Þat shewed was yn here present:
Betwyxe hem sate þys ychë man
Of whom þe myracle fyrst began.

whan þe vble was on þe auter leyd,
And þe prest þe wurdes had seyd,
Alle þre þoȝt þan verrylyk,
Before þe prest, þat a chyld lay quyk
Yn feyrë forme of flesshe and blode;
Þys say þey þre, þere þey stode.

whan þe preste shulde parte þe sacrament,
An aungel dowun from heuene was sent,
And sacryfyed þe chylde ryȝt þare;
As þe prest hyt brak, þe aungel hyt share;
þe blode yn-to þe chaleys ran
Of þat chylde, boþe God and man.

Þys man ȝede to þe heyȝest degre,
To housel hym, as fyl to be;

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Hym þoght þe prest broȝte on þe pateyn
Morselles of þe chylde alle newe sleyn,
And bedde hym a morsel of þe flesshe
with alle ȝe blode þer-on alle fresshe.

Þan gan he cry, with loudë steuene,
“Mercy! Goddys sone of heuene!
Þe brede þat y sagh on þe auter lye,
Hyt ys þy body; y se hyt with ye.
Of þe brede, þurgh sacrament,
To flesshe and blode hyt ys alle went;
Þys y beleue, and euer y shal;
For verryly we se hyt alle.”

whan he and þey were alle certeyn,
yn forme of brede hyt turned aȝeyn;
He ded hym housel as ouþer wore,
And was a gode man for euermore;
And alle þe toþer beþ þe better,
Þat heren þys tale, or redyn þys lettyr.

Þe prest þat sacreþ Goddys body,
Hym behoueþ bé clene nedëly:
A lewed man þat shal hym receyue,
Alle maner of fylþe, behoueþ hym weyue.

Be þou neuer so gode a preste,
Ne so grete wyttë yn þy breste,
Y rede þe here how þe propertes are shewed,
Þogh þe langage be but lewed.

Þou wost weyl þat þe vblè
Ys but a lytyl þyng to se;
So shal we be lytyl yn wyl,
lytyl and meke, with-outyn yl,
Noȝt yn pryde, ne naȝt yn heghþe,

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For no wysdom ne for no sleghþe,
Þat we ne falle with Lucyfere,
For proude men wonë with hym þere.

Þe vblè ys made of whete,
Þe louelyest cornë þat men ete;
So shal we be meke and louely
To allë þo þat beþ vs by;
Þys mekënes ys aȝens Ire,
Þat ys with Lucyfere yn fyre.

Þe paste of þe vblè, nat ne ogh
Be made of any maner of soure dogh;
For þe soure dogh makeþ alle soure
Þe swetnes þat cumþ of þe floure.
By þys soure dogh ys tokenyng
Þat enuye ys a wykked þyng,
For hyt fordoþe swetnes of dede
Þat God shulde ȝyue for soulë mede;
Þarfore makeþ he none herbergerye
Þere he fyndeþ byfore, enuye.

A vertu also yn þe whete ys,
Þat ys moche aȝens sloghnes;
For whetë cornës wyl nat prykke,
As otës dowün, or barlykke;
Ne we shulde nat haue any prykyl
Of ydylnes ouer mykyl.

Ydylnes gruccheþ, and ys heuy of þoȝt,
And also sonë wroþe for noȝt;
And þat wraþþë cumþ of sorowe,
Þat of wanhope wyl mochë borowe.
Þys sacrament of þe messe
loueþ noun swyche ydulnesse,
Ne, with noun, wyl he dwelle,

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But þere men of Ioyë spelle.

Þe paste to þe vblè seyd byforne,
Shal nat be of no medel corne,
But allë onëly of wete;
Þe mastlyoun shul men lete.
Þat yche meneþ, with no wyse
we shul vs medel with coueytyse,
And namëly with auaryce,
For þat ys tolde a wykked vyce.

Also þou seest þe vblè ys þynne,
And grete dunhede ys noun þer-ynne;
And þat wyl weyl sygnyfye
Aȝens þe synne of glotonye;
For þere ne wyl þe sacrament reste,
þere glotonye wyl hym oute keste.

And þou seest, þe vblè ys whyte;
And we shul hauë noun delyte
Of no maner of flesshely lak,
Of lechery, þat makeþ vs blak.

Þese are þe seuene propertes
Yn þe vblè, as þou sees;
And euery properte þer-ynne
Ys aȝens a dedly synne.

Aȝens þys sacrament, þan do þo
Þat are yn synne, and þar-to go,
Or are yn wyl aȝen to wende
To synne, and hemself shende.

Also a preste þat goþ, syngeþ hys messe,
þat yn dedly synnë ys,
An hunder folde he synneþ more
Þan ȝyf he, a lewed man wore.

Alle þey þat receyue þys sacrament
yn dedly synne, or wykked entent,

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yn any óf þese ychë seuene
Þat þou hast me herdë neuene,
Hyt ys to here dampnacyun,
And þarfore veniaunce shal be doun.
And, here y shal telle a tale,
How hyt ys to þo men bale.

[The Tale of the Priest who was enabled to see Folk's sins in their Faces.]

A parysshe prest was yn a tounne,
A man of ful grete dyscrecyounne;—
Dyscrecyun, a ryȝt wyt ys,
On boþe partys ryȝtly to ges;—
Of hys parysshenes he vndyrstode,
whyche were yl, and whych were gode;
Tweyn he haddë for to gete,
Þat neuer wuldë synnë lete.

And fyl hyt at an esterne,
Þat a prest shul none ouþer werne
But ȝyf hyt be þe gretter synne,
As yn cursyng, or yn vnbuxyme.
Þys prest was yn gretë þoȝt
wheþer he shulde housel hem or noȝt;
he preyd God, of heuene kyng,
Þat he wulde sende hym sum tokenyng
wheþer hé shulde hem forbede;
To housel hem, he þoȝt grete drede.

Fro God he had þys answere:
‘Þat echone shuld hys owne charge bere,
And þat he shulde warne hyt none,
But ȝyue hyt furþe to euerychone;’
“Do þou as Ihesu dyd yn dede,
And þou shalt no man hyt forbede,
Ne morë þan he ded Iudas,
Þat haddë do ful grete trespas.”

he ȝaue hyt to alle with myldë mode
whan brede was turned to flessh & blode.

318

For some þat hyt takeþ, hyt shal hem saue,
And some þarforë peyne shal haue;
Aftyr þey are of synnë clene,
So shal hyt on hem be sene.”

Ȝyt preyde he God of morë grace,
Þat he myȝt knowë hem by face,
Þe whyche receyued hyt wurþyly,
And whyche to have hyt were wurþy.
And God graunted hym hys wyl,
To knowe þe godë fro þe yl.

Þe folk þat to þe prestë went
For to receyue þe sacrament,
Of some þe faces were as bryȝt
As þe sunne ys, ón days lyȝt;
And some, here vysages al blake,
Þat no þyng myȝt hem blaker make;
And somë were as rede as blode,
Staryng ryȝt as þey had be wode;
And sum were swolle, þe vyseges stout,
As þoȝ here yȝen shulde burble out;
And sum gnapped here fete & handes,
As doggës doun þat gnawe here bandes;
And sum hadde vysages of meselrye;
And some were lyke foule maumetrye:
Many wundrys were on hem sene,
Mo þan he myȝt se at þat tyme.

Þe prest, whan he say alle þys,
Of þat syȝt he gan hym grys;
For þat syȝt was hydous,
And dreful, and perylous.

Ȝyt preyd he God, with gode entent,
Þat he myȝt wyte, what al þat ment;
And God almyȝty loued hym weyl,
And wuldë shewe hym euerydeyl;
“Þo men þat are so bryȝt
As þe sun, on day[e]s lyȝt,
Þo men are ȝyt yn charyte,
And clene of synne, & wurschepeþ me;

319

Þo men þat were so blake,
Þat no þyng myȝt hem blaker make,
Þey are lecchours foule with-ynne,
And haue no wyl to leue here synne;
Þo men þat werë rede as blode,
Þey are Irus, and wykked of mode,
here euene crystyn for to slo
with deþ, or, with pyne do wo;
Þo þat þou sagh with swolle vysage,
Þey are enuyous ouer outrage;
And þo þat gnapped here finger endes,
Are bakbyters betwyxë frendys;
Þo þat þou sagh, meselles be syȝt,
Þey loue more gode þan God almyȝt;
Þo þat þou sagh lyke maumetrye,
On worldly þyng þey most affye;
More loue þey gode þat hé haþ sent
þan þey do hym þat alle haþ lent;
þese maner men are ȝyt yn wyl,
yn here synne to lyuë stylle;
And þarfore shal þe sacrament
On hem aske hardë Iugëment,
Þat þey haue receyue hyt vnwurþyly,
And serued þe fende, hys enemy.

Þys tale y tolde for loue of þo
Þat yn synne to housel go,
Or beþ yn wylle to turne aȝeyn;
For alle here trauayle þey do yn veyn.

Ȝyf þou, whan þy housel shalt take,
Be yn wylle þy synne to forsake
For euermore yn stedfaste herte,
Þogh þou synne sone aftyr, and smert,
Ȝyt God takeþ hyt nat to so grete grym
As ȝyf þou yn tresoun receyuedest hym.

yn no þyng wote y more tresun,
Þan brynge þy lorde to hys felun;
And ȝyt men sey here synne ys grefe,

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Þat bryngeþ a trew man on a þefe;
And ȝyf þou do þus, þy wytande,
þan chargë men hyt most yn hande;
þarfore loke þat þou wyte noȝt,
No synne hyde yn herte ne þoȝt,
Ne wyl nat wyte for neuer more
whan þou receyuest God ryȝt þore.

Also þe clerk þat haunteþ synne,
But he leue, and þer-of blynne,
He shal nat serue at þe auter,
Noþer halewed þyng to comë ner.

Y touched langer of þys outrage
whan y spake of sacrylage,
Þat þe holy gost shewed hym noȝt
For þe dekene synned yn þoȝt,
Yn þe tale of Ion Crysostomus;
Þys tale ys tolde for ȝow and vs.

Also he ys wurþy to be shent,
Þat, sone aftyr þe sacrament,
To foly and to synne hym draweþ:
lytyl of Goddes veniaunce hym aweþ.

Ȝyf þou forgete or ouersyttes
Tyme of housel, þat þou weyl wytes,
lytel fors of hym þou ȝyues,
Þou louest hym nat þat þou by lyues,
And ouer alle þyng he loueþ þe beste,
And þou ne wylt, a nyȝtys geste,
lete hym herber yn hys hous;
Þou art vnkynde ryȝt merueylous,
Þat alle þe ȝere þou latest hym weyue,
And with wurschyþ þou wylt nat hyt receyue.
God manaceþ swyche, for swyche enchesun,
And ryȝt hyt wyl, and gode resun;
For swychë men are holde vntrewe
Yn þe olde lawe, and eke yn þe newe.

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Comaundement yn þe olde lawe was,
‘Ones yn þe ȝere to shewe þy trespas;’
þe newe law ys of more onour
‘Ones to receyue þy creatoure,’
Ones yn þe ȝerë, to knowleche,
Þy lorde to pes, for drede of wreche.

Þat prest, y blame ouer alle þyng,
Þat with-oute skylle lettyþ to synge;
For many a soulë myȝt be saued
with þe messe þat he haþ leued;
For al[lë] þat yn peynë ys,
Abydeþ þe socoure of þe messe;
For euery messe makeþ memórye
Of soules þat are yn purgatórye;
Mochë þanke shal þat prest haue,
Þat helpeþ, hem for to saue;
For no þyng may hem so moche auayle
Of here peyne and here trauayle,
As þe sacrament of þe autere,
Ne makeþ hem of peyne so clere.

And þat may y shewe apertly
By a tale of seint Gregorye;
Seynt Gregory telleþ for þe same,

[The Tale of the Priest who was waited on by a Dead Lord whom he afterwards sang out of Purgatory.]

þer was a prest, Felyx was hys name;
Bysyde hys wonyng yn a paþ
was a wasshyng yn an hote baþ
Þys prest þedyr oftë ȝede
To wasshe hym whan he haddë nede.
Þys prest þere euer redy fonde

322

A man þat serued hym to fote and honde;
he drogh hys hosen of, and hys shone,
And efte was redy hem on to done;
At euery tyme þat he þedyr cam,
hys shone and hys hosen, of he nam,
And serued hym at euery a tyde,
Yn þe water, and eke besyde.

Þys prest, þat cam þedyr so ofte,
Þat þys man serued so softe,
he ne asked hym neuer more
when he was, ne how he come þore;
But euery tymë was redy
And serued hym peynyblëly.

Þys prest þoȝt he serued hym weyl,
“hys trauayle wyl y quyte sum deyl.”
On o day he þedyr þoȝt,
And, twey loues with hym he broȝt;
yn-to þe baþ, ȝede þe prest,
And, wesshe hym, as he dyd neste:
Þys man was þere hym aȝayne;
To serue hym weyl, he dyde hys mayne;

Þys preste, whan he shuld furþë go,
He ȝaue þe man þese louës two,
And þanked hym moche, hys seruyse,
And more he wuldë ouþer wyse.

Þys man answered þe prest aȝeyn:
“Þys brede þou broȝtest to me yn veyn,
For neuer morë shal y ete
Bredë, ne noun ouþer mete.
Y am a man, þat ys dede,
Þat neuer more shal etë brede.”

Þe preste asked “on what manere
Ys hyt þat þou wonest þus here?”
Þys yche man answered and seyd,
“Y was lorde here, are y deyde;

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And þys seruyse þat y am ynne,
ys þe peynë for my synne;
But y pray þe, pur charyte,
Offre on þe auter þese loues for me;
And y beseche þe, ouer alle þyng,
Þat syxe messys for me þou synge,
For, were þey sunge, y hope to wende
Yn-to þe ioye with-outen ende.
whan þe syxtë messe ys lefte,
Ȝyf þou ne fyndë me here efte,
know þou þan soþëly ywys
Þat for þy prayere y am broȝt yn blys.”

þys prest, alle þat wokë long,
Fór þys same man preyd and song;
And whan þe wokë was alle gone,
Þe prest cam þedyr, and fondë none.
he beleued þan weyl þat he was broȝt
To blys, for, he fonde hym noȝt.

By þys tale þan mowe ȝe se,
þat hyt ys grete charyte,
Messes for the dede to synge,
Þe soulës oute of þyne to brynge.

Passyng alle þyng, hyt haþ powere,
Þe sacrament of þe autere,
And namëly whan hyt ys doun
with godë mannes deuocyun;
Hym, wyl God sunner here
þan one þat ys nat hym so dere.

yn þe seuenþe comaundement
Toucheþ to þys sacrament,
Yn a talë of a knyȝt,
How þe prest þat lyueþ nat ryȝt,
Of hys preyer ys lytyl prowe,
And þere telleþ hyt weyl how;
And y shal telle a-nouþer here,
Of a messë of a frere.

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[The Tale of the Suffolk Man who was taken out of Purgatory by two Masses his Wife got sung for him.]

A man yn Souþfolke onës deyde
Besydë Sudbyry, men seyde.
For þat man, swych grace was dyȝt,
Þat hym was graunted to come a nyȝt
For to spekë wyþ hys wyfe
To amende þe defaute of hys lyfe:
“Ȝyf a messe were for me doun
with gode mannes deuocyoun,
y hope,” he seyd, “to blys go,
And be delyuerd of alle my wo;
Y prey þe, pur charyte,
To trauayle so moche for me.”

She graunted hym þat ychë bone,
And ros vp on þe mornë sone,
And, vn-to þe frerës ȝede,
For þere hoped she best to spede.
She cam, and spak with a frere,
And preyd she myȝt hys messë here,
And for here housbunde soule to synge,
And she wulde ȝyuë hym offrynge.

Þe frere ded here a messe
yn comune, as þe seruyse ys;
whan þys messë sungë was
She went home a godë pas.
Þe nyȝt aftyr, þan come he,
“Slepest þou?” he seyd; ‘nay,’ seyd she,
‘Be ȝe ȝyt,’ she seyd, ‘yn blys?
þe messë for ȝow sungen ys.’
“þe messe,” he seyde, “þou dedyst be do,
A party hyt halpë þer-vn-to;
My parte y had, of þat messe,
As of þyng þat comune ys;
Ȝyf one for me were specyale seyde,
Þat ouþer for me blys had nede,—
Ȝyf þe prest were of lyfe so gode

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Þat God hys preyer vndyrstode—
Y hopë þan, grace to haue,
Þat hys messë myȝt me saue.”
Ofte he seyd[ë] to hys wyfe
“A prest! A prest! of clenë lyfe.”

On þe mornë, sone she ȝede
To þe frerës eft god spede,
And shewed hyt to þe pryour,
And prey[ed] hym of socour,
‘Ȝyf he had any broþer,
Þat he hoped, were better þan oþer,
Þat wyl syngë me a messe
For a man þat dedë ys;
And at myn esë he shal haue,
To a pytaunce, þat he wyl craue.’

Þe pryor spake vn-to a frere,
And prey[ed] hym on alle manere
Þat he wulde a messë synge
For þat soule þat she made preyng.

Þe frerë was an holy man;
And ar þat he hys messe bygan,
He preyde to God hys orysoun
Yn ful grete afflyccyoun,
Þat hyt myȝt be, hym to pay,
Þe messe þat he shulde synge þat day.

whan þe messe was do to ende,
He bad þe womman home to wende;
“And, whan þou more eftë heres,
Cum and sey to ourë freres.”

Þe nyȝt aftyr, lesteneþ now,
He come, and seyd, “slepest þou?”
‘Nay,’ she sayd, ‘how farë ȝe?’
“weyl,” he seyd, “and so wurþ þe.”

[_]

most þou

‘were ȝe pay[ed] of þat messe,
Þat, for ȝow, sungyn ys?’
“Ȝe,” he seyd, “graunte mercy,
Þys messe to me ys more wurþy
Þan alle þe worlde, an hunder syþe,

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Ne myȝt haue made me halfe so blyþe;
hys preyer was to God so dere,
Þat he besoghte, þat wlde he here,
Ȝyf he had preyd for an hundred mo,
Fro pyne to blys, he had broȝt þo;
For what þyng he hade asked bone,
God had graunted hyt hym as sone;
And haue gode day, for now y wende
To þe ioye with-outyn ende.”
God late vs neuer þer-of mysse,
with-outyn ende to haue þat blys!

Þys wyfe come sonë on þe morne,
And fyl on knees þe frere byforne,
And toldë hym weyl, euery deyl,
How he, for hys prayer, yn ioye was weyl;
And þe frere ful weyl þarby lete,
And þanked God; and for ioye he grete.

[_]

wepte

weyl were hym at hys endyng
Þat had swych a prest for hym to synge!

Yn þys tale, þan, shewed ys,
Ouer alle gode þan ys þe messe;
For þe sacrament of þe autere
Oueral passeþ hys powere;
Yn þat messe, þey hem affye,
Þe soules þat are yn purgatorye,
For hyt makeþ mencyun of þe passyun
As Ihesu Cryst to deþ was doun;
Þe sone ys offred to þe fadyr yn heuene
For þe soules þat þe prest wyl neuene.

Also, þys talë wyl mene
Þat þe preste be gode and clene;
Þan wyl Ihesu Cryst hym here,
For what þyng he makeþ preyere:
Preye he for body, or for soule,
Þat ys yn pyne, or here yn noye,
Boþe wyl God almyȝty saue,
what-so þe godë prest wyl craue.

Nat only for soules ys he herd,

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But also for vs, yn þys world;
Be a man yn sykenes, or yn prysoun,
weyferyng, or yn temptacyun,
Or yn any ouþer trauayle,
Þe sacrament wyl vs auayle;
hyt wyl delyuer vs out of peyne,
Ȝyf oure beleuë be certeyne;
And þat was weyl shewed yn dede
Yn Ingland, so seyþ seynt Bede;
Yn hys bokys wrytyn þyr ys
A feyre myrácle of þe messe.

[Bede's Tale of Jumna and Tumna; or, How an Abbot's Mass-singing made the Fetters fall off a Knight in Prison.]

what tyme seynt Bede was man lyuand,
were many kyngës yn þys land;
Betwyxë tweyn was grete batayle,
For whych þyng y telle þys merueyle;
þe toon hyght Edfryde of þe norþe cuntre,
þe toþer of Lyndëseye was he:
Edfryde had grete seygnourye,
Seynt Audre housbonde, of Ely.
þys batayle was, þurgh here boþe assent,
Besyde a watyr, men calle Trent:
Syre Edfrydes broþer hyȝt Elfwynne,
He was slayn þe batayle ynne;
On boþe partyys, ne was none
So feyre a knyȝt of flesshe and bone,
Ne so doȝty was of armes;
Þarfore seynt Bede pleyneþ hys harmys.

An noþer knȝyt also was felte dowun
Almoste dede, and fyl yn swoun:
Þe namë of þys ȝungë knyȝt,
‘Iumna,’ seyþ seynt Bede, he hyȝt.
whan þys Iumna had long leyn,
He couerd, and sette hym vp aȝeyn,

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And stopped hys woundes, þey shuld nat blede,
And as he myȝt, þennë he ȝede
To seke hym helpe agher to haue,
Or frendës fynde, þat hym myȝt saue.

And as he wente with mochë drede,
He was take with kyng Eldrede,
And, broght vn-to a lordyng,
An Erle þat heldë of þat kyng.
Þe Erle asked hym ‘what he was,
And where he had be yn hard kas?’

For drede of deþ, he was affryȝt,
And durst nat sey he was a knyȝt;
He seyd, “seyre, ȝyf þy wyl be,
Y am an husband of þe cuntre;
Y was wunt to lede vytayle
To knyȝtës þat were yn batayle;
And now y am a porë man,
Yn þys maner fro þe batayle wan,
And wyl fonde to saue my lyfe
Tyl y may comë to my wyfe.”
Þe erle þan made a leche be stoundes
Tende to hym, to hele hys woundes.

Þat tyme were here many thedys,
Many vságes yn many ledys;
For euery kyng, yn þat dawe,
Beleued on dyuers lawe;
Sum were crystyn, on oure fay,
And some beleued on paynyms lay;
Þarfore þat tyme was mykyl þro,
And ofte was boþë werre and wo;
Ȝyf any kyng myȝt of oþers men take,
He shuld hem selle, or yn seruage make.

wharfore y telle so of þys knyȝt,
þe erle dyd hym bynde euery nyȝt
þat he ne shuld[ë] fro hem fle,
Ne stele awey to hys cuntre;
Noþeles, for alle þat þey myȝt hym bynde,

329

A-noþer tyme, lose, þey myȝt hym fynde;
Só fast, þey neuer hym bonde,
Þat lose a-noþer tyme þey hym fonde.

Þys boundë knyȝt hyght Iumna,
And had a broþer þat hyȝt Tumna;
þys Tumna was prest relygyous,
For he was abbot of an house;
So long he leued yn þat estre

[_]

toune

Þat for hys name he hyȝt Tuncestre;
Þat tounne, as y vndyrstande,
hyt was yn Northhumber-lande.

þys abbot herd tydyng certeyn
Þat Iumna was yn batayle slayn;
He come to Trent, þys abbot Tumna,
And fonde a body ryȝt lyke Iumna;
Onóurablye he dyd hyt graue
Yn hys cherche, þere he wulde hyt haue,
And song þarforë, day and ouþer,
For he went he had be hys broþer.

Þogh þat Tumna had chose wrong,
hys broþer had þe godenesse of hys song;
For God alle wote, and wyst hyt þere
For whom he madë hys preyere;
how as euer men, þys knyȝt at eue bonde,
Þe bondes, on þe morne, vndo þey fonde;
Men myȝt neuer hym yn bondes so feste
Þat þey þat tyme ne gunne al to-braste.

Þo men þat had þys man yn holde,
Þys wundyr to þe erle þey tolde;
Þe erle had þer-of gretë wundyr

Þat hys bondes were so a sunder,
He seyd ‘hym self wulde with hym speke,
To wytë why hys bondes dyd breke.’

Before þe erlë was he fette,
And þe erle, ful feyre he grette,
“Sey me now,” he seyd, “bele amye,

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“kanst þou weyl on sorcerye?
Sum wycchecrafte þou doust aboute bere,
Þat þy bondes mow þe nat dere.
For soþe,” he seyd, “sum what þou dos,
Þat euer-more þey fynde þe los.”

he seyd, “on whycchecrafte beleue y noȝt,
Ne for me shal none be wroȝt,
Ne wyl nat be, þurgh fendys crafte,
Vnbonde, ne with no whycchëcrafte.
Syre erle,” he seyd, “hyt ys a-nouþer;
Yn my cuntre y haue a broþer
Þat supposyþ weyl þat y am slayn,
For y come nat home agayn;
For me he syngeþ euery day a messe;
Prest, and abbot, for soþe he ys;
Y wote weyl, þát ys þe enchesun
Þat my bondes are so ondoun,
For, no þyng haþ powere
Aȝens þe sacrement of þe autere;
And ȝyf y were dede yn ouþer werlde,
hys preyer shulde for me be herde,
To bryngë me of pyne and wo
And aftyrward to blys[së] go.”

Alle þe meyne þan, and þe erle,
Supposed weyl he was no cherle,
As he to hem byfore hadde seyd,
whan þey on hym fyrst handës leyd;
By hys semblant and feyre beryng
Hym semed weyl to be a lordyng;
By hys speche, þey vndyrstode
Þat he was man of gentyl blode.

Þe erle toke hym yn pryuyte;
Of when he was, telle hym shulde he;
“Sey me þe soþe, and, as y am knyȝt,
Þou ne shalt haue for me, skaþe ne plyȝt.”
“Syn ȝe me behete ȝoure pes and gryth,
Y am þe kyngës man Edfryth;
Armës y bare yn þe batayle,

331

with alle my powere hym to auayle.”
“So me þoȝt,” seyd þe erle,
“Þe semed nat to be a cherle;
But, for þát y here þe seye,
Þou were wurþy for to deye,
For þou hylpë þer to slo,
Þat alle my kyn ys dede me fro;
But, langer þat y sykerd þe,
Shalt þou haue no skaþe for me.”

He ȝede and solde hym for raunsoun
At London to a Frysoun,—
A Frysoun ȝe shul vndyrstande
To a marchaunde of Fryslande;—
Þys Frysun wulde þys man furþe lede,
And, dyd on hym bondes for drede;
For he ne shulde skape by þe weye,
He dyd on hym, bondes for to leye;
But hyt auayled hym no þyng
Neuer a day, þat byndyng;
For yn þat oure þat þe messe was sunge,
Þe bondes to-braste, and alle to-sprunge.

Þys Frysoun þoȝt ‘how may þys be?
hé may ryȝt weyl fro me fle;
Chaunsfullyche hyt vayled noȝt,
þe katel þat y wyþ hym boȝt.’

þe Frysoun seyd, “wylt þou weyl
Restore aȝen alle my katel,
And y shal ȝyue þe leue to go
To þy cuntre, þere þou come fro;
But fyrst þou shalt me trouþë plyght,
And trewly holde hyt at alle þy myȝt,
To brynge þe katel, and ȝyue for þe,
And ellës y grauntë þe nat fre.”
he graunted hym alle þat he seyd,
And trouþe yn hande with hand[ë] leyd.

þys Iumna went to þe kyng Loyre,
þat was kyng of Kaunterbyre;
he was seynt Audre syster sone,
And Iumna was wonte with here to wone;

332

Of alle hys state, boþe wo and wele,
Iumna tolde þe kyng euery deyl;
Þe kyng þan ȝaue hym hys raunsoun,
And he bare hyt to Londoun to þe Frysoun.

Syþen ȝede he home, þys knyȝt Iumna,
To hys broþer þe abbot Tumna,
And tolde hym of alle hys wo-fare,
And of alle hys cumforte yn alle hys care.
Þe abbot ful weyl þan vndyrstode
Þat hys messe dyd hym grete gode,
And þat þe sacrament gan hym borowe
Oute of seruage and out of sorowe.

Þys tale telleþ vs seynt Bede,
Yn þe gestys of Inglond þat we rede.

By þys talë, mow men lere
Þat þe messe helpeþ vs weyl here;
For vs lyuyng, hyt makeþ memórye,
As weyl as for soules yn purgatórye;
Euery man shal beleue þat ryȝt,
Þat holpe wyl be, as was þe knyȝt.

Þys sacrament helpeþ nat ȝyt a-lone,
But deuoute offrynges also echone;
Alle þat we offre at þe messe,
Alle oure saluacyun hyt ys;
Nat onely for to saue þo þat dede beþ,
But þe quyke also hyt saueþ and redeþ;
As weyl haue þe quyke, þe pru,
As þe dede, þereof vertu;
Quyke and dedë, more and lesse,
Alle are saued þurgh þe masse.

þe offryng ys also a present
þat hyt be oure helpe, þe sacrament,
To þe fadyr of heuene bysyly,
For whom þou offrest, to haue mercy.

A tale y fondë onës wryte;
And as y wote, þan shul ȝe wyte;
And weyl a-cordeþ yn alle þyng,
Þat God ys payd of gode offryng.

333

[The Tale of the Miner, and how his Wife's Offerings for his Soul fed him while he was buried alive in a Mine.]

Þyr was a man beȝunde þe see,
A mynour, woned yn a cyte,—
Mynurs, þey make yn hyllys holes,
As yn þe west cuntre men seke coles.—

Þys mynur soȝte stones vndyr þe molde,
Þat men make of, syluer and golde;
he wroȝt on a day, and holed yn þe hyl;
A perylous chauncë to hym fyl;
For, a grete party of þat yche myne
Fyl dowun yn þe hole, and closed hym ynne.

hys felaus alle, þat were hym hende,
Þat he were dede, weyl soþely wende;
Þey ȝede and toke hem alle to rede,
And tolde hys wyfe þat he was dede.

Þys womman pleyned here husbonde sore—
wulde God þat many swyche wommen wore!—
She hylpe hys soule yn allë þyng,
In almës dede, and yn offryng;
She offred for hym to þe auter,
Ful of wynë, a pecher,
And a feyrë lofe with-alle,
Euery day as for a pryncypalle;
Alle þat twelue moneþ stabëly,
But o day þat passed forby.

Fewe swyche wymmen now we fynde,
Þat to here husbondes are so kynde!
But þys wyfe, at alle here myȝt,
Ded for hym boþe day and nyȝt.

Fyl hyt at þe twelue moneþ ende,
Hys felaws to þe mounteyne gun wende,
And comë to þe same stede efte,

334

Þere þey last here werk [i-]lefte.
Ryȝt þere, þey fyrst bygan,
And perced þurgh vn-to þys man.

Þe man yn godë state þey fonde,
lyuyng with-outë wem or wounde;
Euerychone, þey hadde grete ferly,
And þat was gretë resun why;
Alle þo men were yn grete were,
How he had lyued alle þat ȝere.
But he tolde hem euerychone
How he hadde lyued þere alone;
“Y haue lyued gracyous lyfe,
Þurgh þe curtesye of my wyfe,
For euery day she haþ me sent
Brede and wynë to present;
But o day certys ete y noȝt,
For, no mete was to me broȝt.”

Þey led þys man vnto þe tounne,
And tolde þys myracle vp and dounne,
Fyrst, þur[o]gh þe cyte,
And seþþë þur[o]gh þe cuntre.
Þey asked hym, at þe laste,
Þat day þat he dyd[ë] faste;
He tolde hem þe day[ë]s name,
And hys wyfë seyd þe same;
Þat day she offred neuer a deyl;
Þe gode fryday, he myȝt be weyl.

Now mow ȝe here, þat almës dede,
Gostëly a man wyl fede,
And so mow ȝe weyl vndyrstande
Þat God ys payd of gode offrande.

But fór alle þys tale, yn ȝoure lyues,
Truste ȝe nat moche ón ȝoure wyues,
Ne on ȝoure chyldryn, for no þyng,
But makeþ ȝe self, ȝoure offryng:

335

For, so kynde a womman as y of tolde,
lyueþ nat now, be þou bolde;
Ne no clerk, þat þys ryme redys,
Shal fynde a womman of so kynde dedes.’

Ȝe men þat are now yn present,
þat haue herd me rede þys sacrament,
how ouer alle þyng hyt haþ powere,
Þe sacrament of þe autere,
As y haue here to ȝow shewed
—Nat to lered onely, but eke to lewed,—
Ȝe lewed men, y telle hyt ȝow,
Þese clerkys kun hyt weyl y-now,
Pray we alle oure creatoure,
Þe sacrament oure sauyoure,
Þat body and soule he wyl vs saue,
And we hym loue, and he vs haue!