University of Virginia Library

Now nexte eftir of bartholome
Is to spek in his degre;
fore bartholome wes þe nynte;
& to preche wes send in ynde,
þat is þe farrest land, we trew,
quhare ony man dwellis now.
& quhene he come in-to þat land,
a tempil grete & fare he fand,
& þare-In wes ane ydol mad,
to quhame þe folk in custum had
to sacryfy euir-ilke day;
& astaroth hym callit þai.
& þe apostol enterit þare,
In habit as he a pilgrime ware.
& in þat ydol dwelt þare þane
a fend, for to dissawe mene,
þat, quhene he men mad sek & sare
& for a tyme wald to þame spare,
fulis trewit wele þat he
þame heylyt of Infyrmyte.
for-þi þe tempil of syk mene
wes fillit ful, but & ben.
þane, þocht þai wald cry or rare,
of þare god gat þai nan answere.
þane, quhene þai persawit had,
þat þare god sa sone dum Is mad,
to þe nexte citte þai cane pase,
quhare þat ane vthire ydol wes
þat þai menskyt, & hecht beryth,
& eftyre þat hyme besyly þai speryt,
quhy astarothe, þare god, wald nocht
answere þame as þai besocht.
sad beryth: “ȝe sal trew,
þat he sa harde is bundyne now
with het chenȝeis, as fyre brynnand,
þat he ma nothire stere fowt na hand,
na speke word, na his hand draw,
fra þe appostil bartholomow
come in ȝoure towne.” þane sad þai:
“quha is þat, we pray þe, sa.”
“of mychty god, quod he, þe frende
he is, & here will leynde
fore til distroy ȝowre goddis all,
quham-one ȝe suld in mystere call.”
quod þai: “þe taknys, we þe pray,
þu tell ws quhare-by we ma
knaw hyme by vthire men.”
berith sad: “ȝe sal hyme kene
be his hare, þat is crispe & blak,
& mylk-quhyt flesche but ony lake,
with gret ewyne & ewyne ness-thrillis,
& fare barbe, þat sumdele launge is,
meyngit with quhyte hare. als he
Is of stature lufly to se.
his clathis are quhyte & alsa new,
sete with stanis of purpure hew,
& sex & twenty ȝere are now,
þat he has oysite þame, ȝe trew!
a hundre syis one day kneland,
& als of[t] one nychte prayand;
& angelis are ay hyme by,
þat tholis hyme nocht be wery,
na quhat is hungyre, na ȝet threste,
na gret trawale neuire he wyste.
& fare blyth wlt euir [h]as he.
& thyngis to cum he ma se.
al langage spek he cane,
& vndirstand al leyd of mane,
& it þat ȝe haf askyt me,
& myne answer wele wat he.
& quhene ȝe sek hyme, gyf he wil,
or ellis nocht, [sal] apere ȝow till.
bot, gyf it hapyne sa þat he
wil thole hyme of ȝou fundyn be,
pray[s] þat he cum nocht here;
fore dowte, as he dyd to myn fere,
þat he do me þe sammyne or ware;
fore-þi prais he cum na nare!”

thane went þire men hame in hy,
& socht þe appostol besyly
twa dais, als wele as þai mocht;
bot taknyne of hyme fand þai nocht.
þane In þe tempil a man lay,
þat þe fend trawalyte ay,
& one þe apostol criyt he:
“þi haly bedis brynnis me.”
þane þe apostol sad but mare:
“wikit spryt, trawale hym no mare!”
& with þat wourd, in þat place þare,
þe seke wes heylit of his care.
þane quhene þe kynge of þe land herd
þat þe apostil sagat ferd,
þat lunatyk a douchtyre hade,
send þane to hyme but abade
& prayt hyme [to] cum hyme to,
& to his dowchtyre þe sammyn do,
þat he dyd to þe lunatyke;
fore þare seknes ware elyke.
þane to þe kynge he come in hy,
& fand his douchtyre bundyne ly
In yrne chenȝeis, fore þat scho
wald thole na man to cum hir to,
þane with hyre tetht scho can þam ryfe.
þe appostil bad louse hire be-lyfe.
þe apostil said: “beis hardy,
for þe fals fend bundyne haf I,
& beis nocht rade!” & with þat
parfyte hele þe madyne gate.
þat gert þe kynge, þat wes large,
his men of gold & siluer charge
camelis, & with preciuse stanis,
þat costlyk ware, for þe nanyse,
& to þe apostil send þame thocht;
bot hyme in na place fynd þai mocht.
þane one þe morne, quhen it wes day,
quhare þe kynge in his chawmir lay,
& al entre closit ware,
þe apostil to hyme cane apere
& sad: “sir kynge, quhare-til gert þu
þi men with tresour sek me now?
to sik man þu suld gyf þat til,
þat of wardly gud has wil;
bot I cowate na warldly thynge,
na in fleschelyk has lewynge.”
þane cane þe apostil til hym preche
of cristis law, & hyme teche,
& schew hyme with vthire thynge
þe manere of oure ransonynge,
& how þe fend one foure-kine wise
he discomfyte and his quentice,
þat wes thru ferly scheuannes,
mychte, richte, wysdome laste wes.
fore scheuand he wes, as adame,
þat wrocht w[e]s of vmwemmyt lame,
had oure-cumyne, rycht sa suld he
one a vnwemmyt virgine be
borne, þat suld oure-cum oure fa.
& syne þe tothire thinge of þa
wes: mychtyly he put hym owte
of his ald seinȝnery but dowte,
þat he fra man vsurpyt had,
syne eftire þat god had hym mad.
& þe thryd thynge wes rycht-wisnes;
fore richt thinge fore-suth it wes,
þat, as þe fend oure-come þe man,
þat of þe froit had etyne þane,
richt sa suld mane in lele fastinge
oure-cum þe fend in til althinge.
þe ferd, þat falowis nere þare-by,
þat he ourcome þe feynd vysly,
quhene his visdome þe fendis arte
had ourcumyne in til al parte,
as quhene Ihesu in wildirnes
hungyre richt sare, þare na met wes,
& satane bad hyme mak bred ȝare
of stanis, þat ware lyand þare,
& sa ourcome hyme with slicht hid
as he before our elderis did;
& gyfe of bred had he no ned,
he suld haf dowte of his godhed;
bot criste answerte sa wysly,
þat þe feynd begylyt wes vtraly.

thane quhen he had þe kinge vndon
þe sacramentis of treutht alsone,
he sad, gyf he wald baptiste be,
his god faste bundyne suld he se.
þane in þe morne one þare wyse
þe bischapis mad þare sacrifice
to þare ydole; & þane þe feynde,
þat cowartly in It cane leynde,
rayrit wele lowd, & sad in hy:
“cesis, wrechis, to sacryfy
for dowt It hapyne ware to ȝow
þane to me, þat is bundyne now
with chenȝeis thru angelis brycht
of Ihesu criste, goddis sone of mycht,
þat þe Iowis dyd one þe rude,
of hyme myskennand þe gret gud,
quhen he oure-com þe ded, þe quene,
& oure fel prince with-owt wene,
þat is þe spouse of ded full fell,
& has hyme bundyne In-to hell.”
full mony þane rapis hynte,
& to draw done þe ydole mynte;
bot it mycht sterit be na way.
þe apostil þane one hicht can say:
“þu feynd þare-in, to þe I speke,
& byddis þu þat ydole brake
but abad in pecis small.”
þane he brak it; & þare with-all
to god þe apostil mad prayere,
& al þat in-to seknes ware,
þare hele parfytly gat rycht þare.
þane þe apostil but ony mare
of þe tempil a kyrke made,
& þe fals feynd but a-bade
he gert gange in-to wildirnes,
quhare þat neuire man dwelland was.
þane goddis angele can apere,
þat wes wondyre brycht & cleyre,
&, fleand in fowre nukis, made
with his fyngyre þe croice but bad,
& sad: “richt as þire sekmen has
gottyne þare hele thru goddis grace,
sa sal þis tempil clengit be
of al fylth and Iniquite
of þe feynde, þat þare-in dwelt ay,
þat þe apostol has put away.
nocht-þane ȝou I sal gere hyme se,
bot rad se þat ȝe nocht be,
& in ȝour forhad but abad
makis þis selfe takine, þat I haf mad
with myn fyngyre in þe hard stane!”
with þat he gert þam se Ilkane
þat ethiope as þe sete blak,
þat had þe face gretly rlak,
for it wes awful & mysmade;
& þare-with a syd berd It had,
& of his hewyd þe lochtris of hare
til his fete strekand ware,
& of his mowthe & of his ene
sprakis of fyre bryste owt bedene,
& of his handis behynd his bake
bundyne with chenȝeis of fule mak.
þe angel sad to þe ful thynge:
“fore þu dyd þe apostilis bydynge,
quhene þu brak þine awne mawnment,
quhare-thru ful mony men war schent,
of þe bandis I sal louse þe;
bot to sik wildirnes þu sal fle,
quhare to man þou grewe na may,
& dwel þare-In to domysday.”
& quhene þe angel had þis sad,
þe fellone fende mad abrade
& with gret noyse & ilmowtht late,
grewand na man, he held his gate.
& þe angel, þat þai al saw,
vpe in hewyne of þare sicht flaw.

the kinge, his barnis, & þe quene,
& al þai þat þis had sene,
trewit in god & baptysme tuke;
& þe kinge þe warld forsuke,
& as discypul folowyt ay
þe apostil til þe end-day.
þane gadderit þar þe bischapis al
of the templis gret & smal,
& [come] to þe kynge astroges,
þat to þis kynge bruthire wes,
and of þe puple gret playnt mad,
& of þe tynsale þat þai had,
& of þare goddis brokine done,
& of þare tempil subuersione,
& of sorcery plenȝeit þai,
þat þai sad þe apostil dyd ay.
& quhene astrages, þe kinge,
had hard þe bischopis complenȝeinge,
wes wrath & a thowsand mene
send to brynge þe apostil þane.
& quhen he come be-for þe kynge,
he sad til hyme as in hethynge:
“Is þu he þat sa wikitly
my bruthire has peruertit? sa, quhy.”
quod he: “I peruertit hyme nocht,
bot to conuert hyme wes myn thocht.”
þane sad þe kinge: “rycht as þu
has drawyne hym fra his god now,
&, I trew, to þ[i]ne, sa sal I
to myn god gere þe sacryfy,
& honoure hyme fra þis furth ay.”
til hyme þe apostil þan can say:
“þat wykit fend, þat þi bruthire
honowrit as god be-for wthire,
I band, of hyme hafand nane aw,
& bundyne til hyme syne can schaw,
& gert hym brak þe mawnment all,
þat he Indwelt, in pecis smal.
& gyf þu þe sammyne wil do
to myn lord, I ame redy, lo,
to fulfill al þine entent,
& sacrify to þi mawnment;
bot, gyfe I brak þi goddis now,
but stryf in myn goddis þou trew.”
& rycht as þai sik spek can mak,
men tald, þe kingis god baldak
wes fallyne downe & brokyn smal.
þe kinge for Ire þane raf his pal
of purpur, þat he In wes clede,
& gerte þe apostil in þat stede
with gret stawis be dongyng sare,
& þe skyne of hyme be flayne þare.
þane cristyne men in gret honoure
In þat place mad his sepulture.
& þe fel kynge astrages
& al þe bischapis, at þar wes
of þe tempil, þat playnt had mad,
þe feyndys slew but ony bad.
& men polemyus can make,
þat lewyt his k[i]nryk for his sak,
bischape; & twenty ȝere
his office worthly cane stere,
and þane sic end mad of his lyfe,
þat he is now in hewyne but strife.
þe quhilk lyf god grant ws to wyne
but schame, det, or dedly syne.

bot syndry opynione
sere men has of his passione.
for þe haly man dorothe
sais þat crucifyt wes he;
& quhene he in til Ind prechyt,
matheus þe ewangele in-to wryt
he gafe to þame in þare awne led;
he tholyt passione, as we red,
in þe citte of Albany
& in þe land of hermeny,
quhare [he] apone þe croice wes down.
& bely flawcht flede alsone.
& sum men sais fore suthfastnes,
þat he richt þane heddyt wes.
& ȝete men fyndis at thire thre
but stryfe ma wele accordit be:
þat he crucifyt wes fyrste,
& [syne] his skyne of flayne with lyste,
& at þe laste his nek in twa
þai strak, & cane hyme martyre ma,
& say oure-come oure wyddirwyne,
tholand þis-wyis thrynfald pyne,
& for his mede brukis þat blyse,
þat god has grathit til all hys.
to þe quhilk blyse he ws brynge,
þat hewyne & ȝerde wrocht & althynge,
and gyfe ws grace sa to do here
þat we hardly ma [a]ppere
befor hyme, þat al has sene,
richt, gud, ande Ill, as hyme think [q]wem.