Handlyng Synne :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hyt was onys a munke, and had a celle
In a wyldernes, for to dwelle;
Þys munkë of relygyoun
Had a grete temptacyoun;
He was so temptyd with lecherye,
He ȝede fro hys celle to seke folye;
He dede hym sone to a cyte,
In-to egypte, þat yche cuntre.
And, as hé cam yn a strete,
with a womman he gan mete;
Hys flesshe on here was so abeyted,
Þat þyke womman he couéytyd.
To here fadyr swyþe he ȝede,
And asked here to haue yn dede.
Here fadyr was prest of sarysyne;
In maummetry he leued ynne.

Þe prest seyd þe munke vn-to,

As my god wyl, so wyl y do.
She shal noght to any be sette
Withoutyn leue of my maumette.
The munkë seyd he graunted weyl
Aftyr hys maumette to do euery deyl.

Þe sarysyne to hys god ȝede,
And askede cunseyl of swyche a dede,
Ȝyf he were of þe munkë payde,
Or, þe ȝyfte shulde be delayde.’

Þan answered hys termagaunt,
“Ȝyue hym þy doghtyr on þys cunnaunt,
Þat he forsake, & quytë clene,
God of heuene and hys bapteme,
And alle þe godenesse of hys munkhede;
Þese þre forsakë, mote he nede;
And ȝyf he forsake hem apertly,
Ȝyue hym þy douȝtyr hardëly.”

Þys prest come to þe munke, & tolde
what he seyd, and what he wolde;
‘And ȝyf he wolde forsake þese þre,
Hys dougtyr shulde hys ownë be.’

She was so mochë yn hys þoght;
Had he here, he rouȝte of noghte.
Alas! Ihesus he forsoke,
And þe crystyndom þat he toke,
And þe state of relygyoun,
And chesë hys Dampnacyun.

Certys he dede grete outrage,
To make þe deuyl so moche omage.

whan he had grauntede al hys folye,
Out of hys mouþe he say flye
A dowue vn-to þe fyrmament;
Þe holy gost þan from hym went.

Þe sarysyne wente to hys maumet,
And tolde hym how þe munke had het:
“Þese þre þyngës” he wyl forsake;
Shal y, hym my douȝtyr take?
Sey þou me þe certeyn of alle,
wheþer y shal, or y ne shalle.”
Þe maumet answeryd hastyly,
“Y warne þe for enchesoun why;
Þogh he forsake hys god for euere,
Hys god forsakeþ hym neuere,
For he ys euer ful of pyte;
Men clepyn hym god of cristianite;
For ȝyf he wyl hym mercy craue,
Redyly mercy shal he haue;
Þouȝe he to-day fro hys god weyue,
To-morwe hys god wyl hym receyue.
Þarfor, y forbede þe weyl,
Ne delë with hym neuer a deyl.”

Þe prest vnto þe munkë went
And seyd, “y haue commaundëment
Þat y ne shal delë with þe,
Ne my doghtyr þy wyfe to be;
For þy god ys of swych manere,
Þogh þou forsake hym ryght now here,
To-morwe mayst þou com aȝeyn,

And make with hym acorde certeyn;
Þogh þou haue do neuer so ylle
Ȝyt wyl he graunte þe hys gode wylle.
My god me bad on none wyse
To dele with þe, ne none of hyse.”

Þe munke rependyd hym þan, and þoght,
“Alas!” he seyd, “what have y wroght
Þat y shulde euer hym forsake
Þat ys so redy me efte to take.
Þy mercy, god, ys mochyl to telle;
when y see a maumet of helle
Þat neuer ȝyt loued þe,
He spekyþ of þy mochyl pyte.
Seþyn þou art so mylde and meke
Þy mochyl mercy wyl y seke;
Here y forsakë þat y toke,
To hym y me betake þat y forsoke.”

Seþyn he ȝede to an ermyte,
And shrofe hym of hys synne astyte;
And tolde hym þat he had y-doun,
Forsaken god and hys relygyoun.
þys forsayde ermyte ful sory was
Þat he had do so grete trespas;
Noþeles, he bad hym dwelle
Þre wokys with hym yn his celle;
For hys synne he shulde þan faste,
And yn preyers wel to laste.

þys ychë munke þat was so madde,
Dyde ryght as þe ermyte badde.
þey preyden boþe þat seuenyȝt

To god, for hys mochel myȝt,
þat he wulde haue of hym mercy;
Þus preyd þey boþë specyaly.

At þe fyrste seuenyȝt ende,
þe ermyte seyd, “broþer hende,
Hast þou any gracë see
Yn þy preyers as þou hast be?”
“ȝe,” he seyde, “y sagh a syght
Yn þe lykenes of a dowuës flyght,
Aboue me yn þe firmament,
Of þat dowue þat fro me went.”
þe ermyte þoght þan astyte
Þat hyt was þe same spyryte
þat went from hym when he began
God forsake for þat womman.

To gret penaunce eft he hym toke
For hys cristyndom þat he forsoke;
Ȝyt a woke he badde hym faste
For his flessh þat hym downe caste,
þat no more þurghe lecherye
He fordo hys grace so gretly.

Þys ermyte preyed nyght and day
þat hys penaunce were take to pay.
whan þey had preydë day & nyght
Alle þat woke yn goddys syght,
Þys ermyte seyd, “benedicite;
Broþer,” he seyd, “how þenkeþ þe?”
“weyl,” he seyd, “þurgh goddys grace,
Þe dowue haþ be byfore my face,
And, a whyle, stylle by me stode;
Þe syght þere-of dyde me gode.”

“þat ys weyl, wyþ goddys wylle,
Dwelle ȝyt with me a wokë stylle,
And be yn þyn afflyccyouns,
Yn fastyng and yn orysouns:
And y. shal prey also with þe
Þat god boþe herë me and þe.”

Stedfastlych þey preyd a-none
Tyl þat wokë were alle gone.
At þe woke ende, spake þe ermyte
And asked þe munke of þe spyryte.
Þe munkë seyde, “y haue hyt seyn,
And on my hede syttyn and beyn;
y sagh hyt so mylde and spake,
Þat with my hande y myght hyt take;
Me þoght hyt was þat fro me steye,
Aȝeyn yn-to my mouþe hyt fleye.”
þe ermyte þanked god almyght
Þat ȝafe hym grace to see þat syȝt.
“Now art þou clene,” he seyde, “of synne,
þe holy goste ys þe withynne:
kepe þe now fro swych a kas,
Aȝen god no more to trespas.”

By þys ensample may ȝe see
Þat god ys euer ful of pyte;
Þogh a man hym onys forsake,
Eft wyl god aȝen hym take
Ȝyf he with herte wyl mercy crye
And do penaunce for hys folye.
Blessed be he among vs here,
Þat he loueþ vs alle so dere.

Go we now fyrþer on oure pas
And tellë more of oure trespas.