The Pearl; Cleanness; Patience

[section]

The Pearl.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

CLEANNESS.

XIII.

PATIENCE.

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The Pearl.

I.

Perle plesaunte to prynces paye,
To clanly clos in golde so clere,
Oute of oryent I hardyly saye,
Ne proued I neuer her precios pere,
So rounde, so reken in vche araye,
So smal, so smoþe her sydeȝ were.
Quere-so-euer I lugged gemmeȝ gaye,
I sette hyr sengeley in synglure;
Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere,
Þurȝ gresse to grounde hit fro me yot;
I dewyne for-dolked of luf daungere,
Of þat pryuy perle with-outen spot.

Syþen in þat spote hit fro me sprange,
Ofte haf I wayted wyschande þat wele,
Þat wont watȝ whyle deuoyde my wrange,
& heuen my happ & al my hele,
Þat dotȝ bot þrych my hert þrange,
My breste in bale bot bolne & bele.
Ȝet þoȝt me neuer so swete a sange,
As stylle stounde let to me stele,
For-soþe þer fleten to me fele,
To þenke hir color so clad in clot;
O moul þou marreȝ a myry mele.
My priuy perle with-outen spotte,

Þat spot of spyseȝ myȝt nedeȝ sprede,
Þer such rycheȝ to rot is runnen;
Blomeȝ blayke & blwe & rede,
Þer schyneȝ ful schyr agayn þe sunne.
Flor & fryte may not be fede,
Þer hit doun drof in moldeȝ dunne,
For vch gresse mot grow of grayneȝ dede,
No whete were elleȝ to woneȝ wonne;
Of goud vche goude is ay by-gonne.
So semly a sede moȝt fayly not,
Þat spryngande spyceȝ vp ne sponne,
Of þat precios perle wyth-outen spotte.

To þat spot þat I in spech expoun
I entred in þat erber grene,
In augoste in a hyȝ seysoun,
Quen corne is coruen wyth crokeȝ kene.
On huyle þer perle hit trendeled doun,
Schadowed þis worteȝ ful schyre & schene
Gilofre, gyngure & gromylyoun,
& pyonys powdered ay by-twene.
Ȝif hit watȝ semly on to sene,
A fayre reflayr ȝet fro hit flot,
Þer wonys þat worþyly I wot & wene,
My precious perle, wyth-outen spot.

Bifore þat spot my honde I spenn[e]d,
For care ful colde þat to me caȝt[e];
A denely dele in my hert denned,
Þaȝ resoun sette my seluen saȝt[e].
I playned my perl þat þer watȝ spenned
Wyth fyrte skylleȝ þat faste faȝt[e],
Þaȝ kynde of kryst me comfort kenned,
My wreched sylle in we ay wraȝte.
I felle vpon þat floury flaȝt[e],
Suche odour to my herneȝ schot;
I slode vpon a slepyng slaȝte,
On þat prec[i]os perle with-outen spot.

II.

Fro spot my spyryt þer sprang in space,
My body on balke þer bod in sweuen,
My goste is gon in godeȝ grace,
In auenture þer meruayleȝ meuen;
I ne wyste in þis worlde quere þat hit wace,
Bot I knew me keste þer klyfeȝ cleuen;
Towarde a foreste I bere þe face,
Where rych rokkeȝ wer to dyscreuen;
Þe lyȝt of hem myȝt no mon leuen,
Þe glemande glory þar of hem glent;
For wern neuer webbeȝ þat wyȝeȝ weuen,
Of half so dere adubmente.

Dubbed wern alle þo downeȝ sydeȝ
With crystal klyffeȝ so cler of dynde,
Holte-wodeȝ bryȝt aboute hem bydeȝ;
Of bolleȝ as blwe as ble of ynde,
As bornyst syluer þe lef onslydeȝ,
Þat þike con trylle on vch a tynde,
Quen glem of glodeȝ agaynȝ hem glydeȝ,
Wyth schymeryng schene ful schrylle þay schynde.
Þe grauayl þat on grounde con grynde
Wern precious perleȝ of oryente;
Þe sunne bemeȝ bot blo & blynde,
In respecte of þat adubbement.

The adubbemente of þo downeȝ dere
Garten my goste al greffe for-ȝete
So frech flauore of fryteȝ were,
As fode hit con ma fayre refete.
Fowleȝ þer flowen in fryth in fere,
Of flaumbande hweȝ, 1boþe smale & grete,
Bot sytole stryng & gyternere,
Her reken myrþe moȝt not retrete,
For quen þose bryddeȝ her wyngeȝ bete
Þay songen sryth a swete asent;

So grace [i]os gle couþe no mon gete
As here & se her adubbement.

So al watȝ dubbet on dere asyse;
Þat fryth þer fortwne forth me fereȝ;
Þe derþe þer-of for to deuyse
Nis no wyȝ worþe þat tonge bereȝ.
I welke ay forth in wely wyse,
No bonk so byg þat did me dereȝ,
Þe fyrre in þe fryth þe feier con ryse,
Þe playn, þe plontteȝ, þe Spyse, þe pereȝ
& raweȝ & randeȝ & rych reuereȝ,
As fyldor fyn her b[o]nkes brent.
I wan to a water by schore þat schereȝ,
Lorde! dere watȝ hit adubbement !

The Dubbemente of þo derworth depe
Wern bonkeȝ bene of beryl bryȝt;
Swangeande swete þe water con swepe
Wyth a rownande rourde raykande aryȝt;
In þe founce þer stonden stoneȝ stepe,
As glente þurȝ glas þat glowed & glyȝt,
A stremande sterneȝ quen stroþe men slepe,
Staren in welkyn in wynter nyȝt;
For vche a pobbel in pole þer pyȝt
Watȝ Emerad, saffer, oþer gemme gente,
Þat alle þe loȝe lemed of lyȝt,
So dere watȝ hit adubbement.

III.

The dubbement dere of doun & daleȝ;
Of wod & water & wlonk playneȝ,
Bylde in me blys, abated my baleȝ,
For-didden my [dis]tresse, dystryed my payneȝ.
Doun after a strem þat dryȝly haleȝ,
I bowed in blys, bred ful my brayneȝ;
Þe fyrre I folȝed þose floty valeȝ,

Þ more strenghþe of ioye myn herte strayneȝ,
As fortune fares þer as ho frayneȝ,
Wheþer solace ho sende oþer elleȝ sore,
Þe wyȝ, to wham her wylle ho wayneȝ,
Hytteȝ to haue ay more & more.

More of wele watȝ in þat wyse
Þen I cowþe telle þaȝ I tom hade,
For vrþely herte myȝt not suffyse
To þe tenþe dole of þo gladneȝ glade;
For-þy I þoȝt þat paradyse
Watȝ þer oþer gayn þo bonke brade;
I hoped þe water were a deuyse
By-twene myrþeȝ by mereȝ made,
By-ȝonde þe broke by slante oþer slade,
I hope[de] þat mote merked wore.
Bot þe water watȝ depe I dorst not wade
& euer me longed a more & more.

More & more, & ȝet wel mare,
Me lyste to se þe broke by-ȝonde,
For if hit watȝ fayr þer I con fare,
Wel loueloker watȝ þe fyrre londe.
Abowte me con I stote & stare
To fynde a forþe, faste con I fonde,
Bot woþeȝ mo i-wysse þer ware,
Þe fyrre I stalked by þe stronde,
& euer me þoȝt I schulde not wonde
For wo, þer weleȝ so wynne wore.
Þenne nwe note me com on honde
Þat meued my mynde ay more & more,

More meruayle con my dom adaunt;
I seȝ by-ȝonde þat myry mere,
A crystal clyffe ful relusaunt,
Mony ryal ray con fro hit rere;
At þe fote þer-of þer sete a faunt,
A mayden of menske, ful debonere;
Blysnande whyt watȝ hyr bleaunt,

(I knew hyr wel, I hade sen hyr ere)
As glysnande golde þat man con schere,
So schon þat schene an vnder schore;
On lenghe I loked to hyr þer,
Þe lenger I knew hyr more & more

The more I frayste hyr fayre face.
Her fygure fyn, quen I had fonte,
Suche gladande glory con to me glace,
As lyttel byfore þerto watȝ wonte;
To calle hyr lyste con me enchace,
Bot baysment gef myn hert a brunt,
I seȝ hyr in so strange a place,
Such a burre myȝt make myn herte blunt
Þenne vereȝ ho vp her fayre frount,
Hyr vysayge whyt as playn yuore,
Þat stonge myn hert ful stray atount,
& euer þe lenger, þe more & more.

IV.

More þen me lyste my drede aros,
I stod ful stylle & dorste not calle,
Wyth yȝen open & mouth ful clos,
I stod as hende as hawk in halle;
I hope þat gostly watȝ þat porpose,
I dred on ende quat schulde byfalle,
Lest ho me eschaped þat I þer chos,
Er I at steuen hir moȝt stalle.
Þat gracios gay with-outen galle,
So smoþe, so smal, so seme slyȝt,
Ryseȝ vp in hir araye ryalle,
A prec[i]os pyece in perleȝ pyȝt

Perleȝ pyȝte of ryal prys,
Þere moȝt mon by grace haf sene,
Quen þat frech as flor-de-lys,
Doun þe bonke con boȝe by-dene.
Al blysnande whyt watȝ hir beau uiys,

Vpon at sydeȝ & bounden bene
Wyth þe myryeste margarys at my deuyse,
Þat euer I seȝ ȝet with myn yȝen;
Wyth lappeȝ large I wot & I wene,
Dubbed with double perle & dyȝte,
Her cortel of self sute schene,
With precios perleȝ al vmbe-pyȝte.

A pyȝt coroune ȝet wer þat gyrle,
Of mariorys & non oþer ston,
Hiȝe pynakled of cler quyt perle,
Wyth flurted flowreȝ perfet vpon;
To hed hade ho non oþer werle,
Her here heke al hyr vmbe-gon;
Her semblaunt sade, for doc oþer erle,
Her ble more blaȝt þen whalleȝ bon;
As schorne golde schyr her fax þenne schon,
On schyldereȝ þat leghe vnlapped lyȝte;
Her depe colour ȝet wonted non,
Of precios perle in porfyl pyȝte,

Pyȝt watȝ poyned & vche a hemme,
At honde, at sydeȝ, at ouerture,
Wyth whyte perle & non oþer gemme,
& bornyste quyte watȝ hyr uesture.
Bot a wonder perle with-outen wemme,
In myddeȝ hyr breste watȝ sette so sure;
A manneȝ dom moȝt dryȝly demme,
Er mynde moȝt malte in hit mesure;
I hope no tong moȝt endure
No sauerly saghe say of þat syȝt,
So watȝ hit clene & cler & pure,
Þat precios perl þer hit watȝ pyȝt,

Pyȝt in perle þat precios p[r]yse.
On wyþer half water com doun þe shore,
No gladder gome heþen in to grece,
Þen I, quen he on brymme wore;
Ho watȝ me nerre þen aunte or nece,

My Ioy for-þy watȝ much þe more.
Ho profered me speche þat special spyce,
Enclynande lowe in wommon lore,
Caȝte of her coroun of grete tresore,
& haylsed me wyth a lote lyȝte.
Wel watȝ me þat euer I watȝ bore,
To sware þat swete in perleȝ pyȝte!

V.

“On perle,” quod I, “in perleȝ pyȝt,
Art þou my perle þat I haf playned,
Regretted by myn one, on nyȝte?
Much longeyng haf I for ȝe layned,
Syþen into gresse þou me aglyȝte;
Pensyf, payred, I am for-payned,
& þou in a lyf of lykyng lyȝte
In paradys erde, of stryf vnstrayned.
What wyrde hatȝ hyder my iuel vayned,
& don me in þys del & gret daunger?
Fro we in twynne wern towen & twayned,
I haf ben a Ioyleȝ Iuelere”

That Iuel þenne in gemmyȝ gente,
Vered vp her vyse with yȝen graye,
Set on hyr coroun of perle orient,
& soberly after þenne con ho say:
“Sir ȝe haf your tale myse-tente,
To say your perle is al awaye,
Þat is in cofer, so comly clente,
As un þis gardyn gracios gaye,
Here-inne to lenge for euer & play.
Þer mys nee mornyng com neuer here,
Her were a forser for þe in faye,
If þou were a gentyl Iucler.

Bot Iueler gente if þou schal lose

Þy ioy for a gemme þat þe watȝ lef,
Me þynk þe put in a mad porpose,
& busyeȝ þe aboute a raysoun bref,
For þat þou lesteȝ watȝ bot a rose,
Þat flowred & rayled as kynde hyt gef;
Now þurȝ kynde of þe kyste þat hyt con close,
To a perle of prys hit is put in pref;
& þou hatȝ called þy wyrde a þef,
Þat oȝt of moȝt hatȝ mad þe cler;
Þou blameȝ þe bote of þy meschef,
Þou art no kynde Iueler.”

A Iuel to me þen watȝ þys geste,
& iueleȝ wern hyr gentyl saweȝ”
“I-wyse,” quod I, “my blysfol beste,
My grete dystresse þou al to-draweȝ,
To be excused I make requeste;
I trawed my perle don out of daweȝ,
Now haf I fonde hyt I schal ma feste,
& wony with hyt in schyr wod schaweȝ,
& loue my lorde & al his laweȝ,
Þat hatȝ me broȝ[t] þys blys ner;
Now were I at yow by-ȝonde þise waweȝ,
I were a ioyfol Iueler.”

“Iueler,” sayde þat gemme clene,
“Wy borde ȝe men, so madde ȝe be?
Þre wordeȝ hatȝ þou spoken at ene,
Vn-avysed, for soþe, wern alle þre,
Þou ne woste in worlde quat on dotȝ mene,
Þy worde byfore þy wytte con fle.
Þou says þou Traweȝ me in þis dene,
By cawse þou may with yȝen me se;
Anoþer þou says, in þys countre
Þy self schal won with me ryȝt here;
Þe þrydde, to passe þys water fre,
Þat may no ioyfol Iueler.

VI.

I halde þat iueler lyttel to prayse,
Þat loueȝ wel þot he seȝ wyth yȝe,
& much to blame & vn-cortoyse,
Þat loueȝ oure lorde wolde make a lyȝe,
Þat lelly hyȝte your lyf to rayse,
Þaȝ fortune dyd your flesch to dyȝe;
Ȝe setten hys wordeȝ ful westernays
Þat loueȝ no þynk bot ȝe hit syȝe,
& þat is a poynt o sorquydryȝe,
Þat vche god mon may euel byseme
To leue no tale be true to tryȝe,
Bot ȝat hys one skyl may dem[e].

Deme now þy-self, if þou con, dayly
As man to god wordeȝ schulde heue.
Þou saytȝ þou schal won in þis bayly;
Me þynk þe burde fyrst aske leue,
& ȝet of graunt þou myȝteȝ fayle;
Þou wylneȝ ouer þys water to weue,
Er moste þou ceuer to oþer counsayl,
Þy corse in clot mot calder keue,
For hit watȝ for-garte, at paradys greue
Oure ȝore fader hit con mysseȝeme;
Þurȝ drwry deth boȝ veh ma dreue,
Er ouer þys dam hym dryȝtyn deme.”

“Demeȝ þou me,” quod I, “my swete
To dol agayn, þenne I dowyne;
Now haf I fonte þat I for-lete
Schal I efte for-go hit er euer I fyne?
Why schal I hit boþe mysse & mete?
My precios perle dotȝ me gret pyne,
What serueȝ tresor, bot gareȝ men grete
When he hit schal efte with teneȝ tyne?
Now rech I neuer forto declyne,
Ne how fer of folde þat man me fleme,

When I am partleȝ of perleȝ myne.
Bot durande doel what may men deme?”

“Thow demeȝ noȝt bot doel dystresse,”
Þenne sayde þat wyȝt “why dotȝ þou so ?
For dyne of doel, of lureȝ lesse,
Ofte mony mon for-gos þe mo;
Þe oȝte better þy seluen blesse,
& loue ay god & wele & wo,
For anger gayneȝ þe not a cresse.
Who nedeȝ schal þole be not so þro;
For þoȝ þou daunce as any do
Braundysch & bray þy braþeȝ breme,
When þou no fyrre may, to ne fro,
Þou moste abyde þat he schal deme.

Deme dryȝtyn, euer hym adyte,
Of þe way a fote ne wyl he wryþe,
Þy mendeȝ mounteȝ not a myte,
Þaȝ þou for sorȝe be neuer blyþe;
Stynst of þy strot & fyne to flyte,
& sech hys blyþe ful swefte & swyþe,
Þy prayer may hys pyte byte,
Þat mercy schal hyr crafteȝ kyþe;
Hys comforte may þy langour lyþe,
& þy lureȝ of lyȝtly leme,
For marre oþer madde, morne & myþe,
Al lys in hym to dyȝt & deme.”

VII.

Thenne demed I to þat damyselle
Ne worþe no wrath þe vnto my lorde,
If rapely raue spornande in spelle.
My herte watȝ al with mysse remorde,
As wallande water gotȝ out of welle;
I do me ay in hys myserecorde.
Rebuke me neuer with wordeȝ felle,
Þaȝ I forloyne my dere endorde,

Bot lyþeȝ me kyndely your coumforde,
Pytosly þenkande vpon þysse;
Of care & me ȝe made acorde,
Þat er watȝ grounde of alle my blysse;

My blysse, my bale ȝe han ben boþe,
Bot much þe bygger ȝot watȝ my mon,
Fro þou watȝ wroken fro veh a woþe.
I wyste neuer quere my perle watȝ gon;
Now I hit se, now leþeȝ my loþe,
& quen we departed we wern at on,
God forbede we be now wroþe,
We meten so selden by stok oþer ston;
Þaȝ cortaysly ȝe carp con,
I am bot mol & marereȝ mysse,
Bot crystes mersy & mary & Ion,
Þise arn þe grounde of alle my blysse.

In blysse I se þe blyþely blent
& I a man al mornyf mate,
Ȝe take þer-on ful lyttel tente,
Þaȝ I hente ofte harmeȝ hate.
Bot now I am here in your presente,
I wolde bysech wythouten debate,
Ȝe wolde me say in sobre asente,
What lyf ȝe lede, erly & late,
For I am ful fayn þat your astate
Is worþen to worschyp & wele Iwysse,
Of alle my Ioy þe hyȝe gate
Hit is in grounde of alle my blysse.”

“Now blysse burne mot þe bytyde;”
Þen sayde þat lufsoum of lyth & lere
“& welcum here to walk & byde,
For now þy speche is to me dere;
Maysterful mod & hyȝe pryde
I hete þe arn heterly hated here;
My lorde ne loueȝ not forto chyde,
For meke arn alle þat woneȝ hym nere,

& when in hys place þou schal apere,
Be dep deuote in hol mekenesse;
My lorde þe lamb, loueȝ ay such chere,
Þat is þe grounde of alle my blysse.

A blysful lyf þou says I lede,
Þou woldeȝ knaw þer-of þe stage;
Þow wost wel when þy perle con schede,
I watȝ ful ȝong & tender of age,
Bot my lorde þe lombe, þurȝ hys god-hede,
He toke my self to hys maryage,
Corounde me quene in blysse to brede,
In lenghe of dayeȝ þat euer schal wage,
& sesed in alle hys herytage
Hys lef is, I am holy hysse;
Hys prese, hys prys & hys parage,
Is rote & grounde of alle my blysse.”

VIII.

“Blysful,” quod I, “may þys be trwe,
Dyspleseȝ not if I speke errour;
Art þou þe quene of heueneȝ blwe,
Þat al þys worlds schal do honour?
We leuen on marye þat grace of grewe,
Þat ber a barne of vyrgyn flour,
Þe croune fro hyr quo moȝt remwe,
Bot ho hir passed in sum fauour?
Now for synglerty o hyr dousour,
We calle hyr fenyx of arraby,
Þat freles fleȝe of hyr fasor,
Lyk to þe quen of cortaysye.”

“Cortayse quen” þenne s[a]yde þat gaye,
Knelande to grounde, folde vp hyr face,
“Makeleȝ moder & myryest may,
Blessed bygynner of vch a grace!”
Þenne ros ho vp & con restay,

& speke me towarde in þat space:
“Sir fele here porchaseȝ & fongeȝ pray
Bot supplantoreȝ none with-inne þys place;
Þat emperise al heuenȝ hatȝ,
& vrþe & helle in her bayly;
Of erytage ȝet non wyl ho chace,
For ho is quen of cortaysye.

The court of þe kyndom of god alyne,
Hatȝ a property in hyt self beyng;
Alle þat may þer-inne aryue
Of alle þe reme is quen oþer kyng,
& neuer oþer ȝet schal sepryue,
Bot vchon fayn of oþereȝ hafyng,
& wolde her corouneȝ wern worþe þo fyue,
If possyble were her mendyng.
Bot my lady of quom Iesu con spryng,
Ho haldeȝ þe empyre ouer vus ful hyȝe,
& þat dyspleseȝ non of oure gyng,
For ho is quene of cortaysye.

Of courtaysye, as saytȝ saynt poule,
Al arn we membreȝ of ihesu kryst,
As heued & arme & legg & naule,
Temen to hys body ful trwe & t[r]yste;
Ryȝt so is vch a krysten sawle,
A longande lym to þe mayster of myste;
Þenne loke what hate oþer any gawle,
Is tached oþer tyȝed þy lymmeȝ by-twyste,
Þy heued hatȝ nauþer greme ne gryste,
On arme oþer fynger, þaȝ þou ber byȝe;
So fare we alle wyth luf & lyste,
To kyng & quene by cortaysye.”

“Cortayse,” quod I, “I leue
& charyte grete be yow among,
Bot my speche þat yow ne greue,
[OMITTED]
Þy self in heuen ouer hyȝ þou heue,

To make þe quen þat watȝ so ȝonge,
What more-hond moȝte he acheue
Þat hade endured in worlde stronge,
& lyued in penaunce hys lyueȝ longe,
With bodyly bale hym blysse to byye?
What more worschyp moȝt ho fonge,
Þen corounde be kyng by cortayse?

IX.

That cortayse is to fre of dede,
Ȝyf hyt be soth þat þou coneȝ saye,
Þou lyfed not two ȝer in oure þede,
Þou cowþeȝ neuer god nauþer plese ne pray,
Ne neuer nawþer pater ne crede,
& quen mad on þe fyrst day!
I may not traw, so god me spede,
Þat god wolde wryþe so wrange away;
Of countes damysel, par ma fay,
Wer fayr in heuen to halde asstate
Aþer elleȝ a lady of lasse aray,
Bot a quene, hit is to dere a date.”

“Þer is no date of hys god-nesse,”
Þen sayde to me þat worþy wyȝte,
“For al is trawþe þat he con dresse,
& he may do no þynk bot ryȝt,
As mathew meleȝ in your messe,
In sothfol gospel of god al-myȝt
In sample he can ful grayþely gesse,
& lykneȝ hit to heuen lyȝte.”
“My regne, he saytȝ, is lyk on hyȝt,
To a lorde þat hade a uyne I wate,
Of tyme of ȝero þe terme watȝ tyȝt,
To labor vyne watȝ dere þe date,

Þat date of ȝere wel knawe þys hyne;

Þe lorde ful erly vp he ros,
To hyre werkmen to hys vyne,
& fyndeȝ þer summe to hys porpos,
Into acorde þay con de-clyne,
For a pene on a day & forth þay gotȝ,
Wryþen & worchem & don gret pyne,
Keruen & caggen & man hit clos;
Aboute vnder, þe lorde to marked totȝ
& ydel men stande he fyndeȝ þer-ate,
“Why stande ȝe ydel” he sayde to þos,
Ne knawe ȝe of þis day no date?

“Er date of daye hider arn we wonne,”
So watȝ al samen her answar soȝt;
“We haf standen her syn ros þe sunne,
& no mon byddeȝ vus do, ryȝt noȝt.”
“Gos in-to my vyne, dotȝ þat ȝe conne.”
So sayde þe lorde & made hit toȝt.
“What resonabele hyre be naȝt be runne,
I yow pay in dede & poȝte.”
Þay wente in to þe vyne & wroȝte,
& al day þe lorde þus ȝede his gate,
& nw men to hys vyne he broȝte;
Wel neȝ wyl day watȝ passed date,

At þe day of date of euen-Songe,
On oure byfore þe sonne go doun
He seȝ þer ydel men ful stronge
& sa[y]de to hem with sobre soun;
“Wy stonde ȝe ydel þise dayeȝ longe.”
Þay sayden her hyre watȝ nawhere boun.
“Gotȝ to my vyne ȝemen ȝonge
& wyrkeȝ & dotȝ þat at ȝe moun.”
Sone þe worlde by-com wel broun,
Þe sunne watȝ doun & hit wex late;
To take her hyre he mad sumoun;
Þe day watȝ al apassed date.

X.

The date of þe daye þe lorde con knaw,
Called to þe reue “lede pay þe meyny,
Gyf hem þe hyre þat I hem owe,
& fyrre, þat non me may repreue,
Set hem alle vpon a rawe,
& gyf vehon in-lyche a peny.
Bygyn at þe laste þat standeȝ lowe,
Tyl to þe fyrste þat þou atteny;”
& þenne þe fyrst by-gonne to pleny
& sayden þat þay hade trauayled sore,
Þese bot an [h]oure hem con streny,
Vus þynk vus oȝe to take more.

More haf we serued vus þynk so,
Þat suffred ham þe dayeȝ hete,
Þenn þyse þat wroȝt[e] not houreȝ two,
& þou dotȝ hem vus to counterfete.
Þenne sayde þe lorde to on of þo,
“Frende no wrang I wyl þe ȝete,
Take þat is þyn owne & go;
& I hyred þe for a peny a grete,
Quy bygynneȝ þou now to þrete;
Watȝ not a pene þy couenaunt þore?
Fyrre þen couenaunde is noȝt to plete,
Wy schalte þou þenne ask more?

More weþer louyly is me my gyfte
To do wyth myn quat so me lykeȝ?
Oþer elleȝ þyn yȝe to lyþer is lyfte,
For I am goude & non by-swykeȝ.”
“Þus schal I,” quod kryste, “hit skyfte,
Þe laste schal be þe fyrst þat strykeȝ,
& þe fyrst þe laste, be he neuer so swyft,
For mony ben calle[d] þaȝ fewe be mykeȝ.”
Þus pore men her part ay pykeȝ,
Þaȝ þay com late & lyttel wore,

& þaȝ her sweng wyth lyttel at-slykeȝ,
Þe merci of god is much þe more.

“More haf I of ioye & blysse here-inne,
Of ladyschyp gret & lyueȝ blom,
Þen alle þe wyȝeȝ in þe worlde myȝt wynne
By þe way of ryȝt to aske dome.
Wheþer wel nygh[t] now I con bygynne,
In euentyde in-to þe vyne I come,
Fyrst of my hyre my lorde con mynne,
I watȝ payed anon of al & sum;
Ȝet oþer þer werne þat toke more tom,
Þat swanage & swat for long ȝore,
Þat ȝet of hyre no þynk þay nom,
Paraunter noȝt schal to ȝere more.”

Then more I meled & sayde apert,
“Me þynk þy tale vnresounable,
Goddeȝ ryȝt is redy & euer more rert,
Oþer holy wryt is bot a fable;
In sauter is sayd a verce ouerte
Þat spekeȝ a poynt determynable,
‘Þou quyteȝ vchon as hys desserte,
Þou hyȝe kyng ay pretermynable,’
Now he þat stod þe long day stable,
& þou to payment com hym byfore,
Þenne þe lasse in werke to take more able,
& euer þe lenger þe lasse þe more.”

XI.

“Of more & lasse in godeȝ ryche,”
Þat gentyl syde “lys no Ioparde,
For þer is vch mon payed inliche,
Wheþer lyttel oþer much be hys rewarde,
For þe gentyl cheuentayn is no chyche,
Queþer-so-euer he dele nesch oþer harde,
He laueȝ hys gyfteȝ as water of dyche,
Oþer goteȝ of golf þat neuer charde;

Hys fraunchyse is large þat euer dard,
To hym þat matȝ in synne no scoghe
No blysse betȝ fro hem reparde,
For þe grace of god is gret I-noghe.

Bot now þou moteȝ me for to mate
Þat I my peny haf wrang tan here,
Þou sayȝ þat I þat com to late,
Am not worþy so gret lere.
Where wysteȝ þou euer any bourne abate
Euer so holy in hys prayere,
Þat he ne forfeted by sumkyn gate
Þe mede sum-tyme of heueneȝ clere;
& ay þe ofter, þe alder þay were,
Þay laften tyȝt & wroȝten woghe
Mercy & grace moste hem þen stere,
For þe grace of god is gret in-noȝe.,

Bot in-noghe of grace hatȝ innocent,
As sone as þay arn borne by lyne
In þe water of babtem þay dyssente,
Þen arne þay baroȝt in-to þe vyne,
Anon þe day with derk endente,
Þe myȝt of deth dotȝ to en-clyne
Þat wroȝt neuer wrang er þenne þay wente;
Þe gentyle lorde þenne payeȝ hys hyne,
Þay dyden hys heste, þay wern þere-ine,
Why schulde he not her labour alow,
Ȝy[rd] & pay hem at þe fyrst fyne
For þe grace of god is gret in-noghe?

Inoȝe is knawen þat man-kyn grete,
Fyrste watȝ wroȝt to blysse parfyt;
Oure forme-fader hit con forfete,
Þurȝ an apple þat he vpon con byte;
Al wer we dampned for þat mete,
To dyȝe in doel out of delyt,
& syþen wende to helle hete,
Þer-inne to won with-oute respyt;

Bot þer on com a bote as-tyt.
Ryche blod ran on rode so roght,
& wynne [&] water, þen at þat plyt
Þe grace of god wex gret in-noghe.

Innoghe þer wax out of þat welle,
Blod & water of brode wounde;
Þe blod vus boȝt fro bale of helle,
& delyuered vus of þe deth secounde;
Þe water is baptem þe soþe to telle;
Þat folȝed þe glayue so grymly grounde,
Þat wascheȝ away þe gylteȝ felle,
Þat adam wyth inne deth vus drounde.
Now is þer noȝt in þe worlde rounde
Bytwene vus & blysse bot þat he with-droȝ
& þat is restored in sely stounde,
& þe grace of god is gret in-nogh.

XII.

Grace in-nogh þe mon may haue,
Þat synneȝ þenne new, ȝif hym repente,
Bot with sorȝ & syt he mot hit craue,
& byde þe payne þer-to is bent,
Bot resoun of ryȝt þat con not raue,
Saueȝ euer more þe innossent;
Hit is a dom þat neuer god gaue,
þat euer þe gyltleȝ schulde be schente.
Þe gyltyf may contryssyoun hente
& be þurȝ mercy to grace þryȝt;
Bot he to gyle þat neuer glente,
At in-oscente is saf & ryȝte.

Ryȝt þus I knaw wel in þis cas,
Two men to saue is god by skylle;
Þe ryȝt-wys man schal se hys face,
Þe harmleȝ haþel schal com hym tylle,
Þe sauter hyt satȝ þus in a pace:
“Lorde quo schal klymbe þy hyȝ hylleȝ

Oþer rest with-inne þy holy place?”
Hymself to on-sware he is not dylle;
“Hondelyngeȝ harme þat dyt not ille,
Þat is of hert boþe clene & lyȝt,
Þer schal hys step stable stylle,”
Þe innosent is ay saf by ryȝt.

The ryȝtwys man also sertayn
Aproche he schal þat proper pyle,
Þat takeȝ not her lyf in vayne
Ne glauereȝ her nieȝbor wyth no gyle;
Of þys ryȝt-wys saȝ salamon playn,
How kyntly oure con aquyle
By wayeȝ ful streȝt he con hym strayn,
& scheued hym þe rengne of god a whyle,
As quo says “lo ȝon louely yle,
Þou may hit wynne if þou be wyȝte,”
Bot hardyly with-oute peryle,
Þe innosent is ay saue by ryȝte!

An-ende ryȝtwys men, ȝet saytȝ a gome
Dauid in sauter, if euer ȝe seȝ hit,
“Lorde þy seruaunt draȝ neuer to dome,
For non lyuyande to þe is Iustyfyet.”
For-þy to corte quen þou schal com,
Þer alle oure causeȝ schal be tryed,
Alegge þe ryȝt þou may be in-nome,
By þys ilke spech I haue asspyed;
Bot he on rode þat blody dyed,
Delfully þurȝ hondeȝ þryȝt
Gyue þe to passe when þou arte tryed
By innocens & not by ryȝte.

Ryȝt-wysly quo con rede,
He loke on bok & be awayed
How Ihesuc hym welke in are þede,
& burneȝ her barneȝ vnto hym brayde,
For happe & hele þat fro hym ȝede,
To touch her chylder þay fayr hym prayed.

His dessypeleȝ with blame let be hym bede,
& wyth her resouneȝ ful fele restayed;
Ihesuc þenne hem swetely sayde,
“Do way, let chylder vnto me tyȝt,
To suche is heuen-ryche arayed,”
Þe innocent is ay saf by ryȝt.

XIII.

Ihesuc con calle to hym hys mylde
& sayde hys ryche no wyȝ myȝt wynne.
Bot he com þyder ryȝt as a chylde,
Oþer elleȝ neuer more com þer-inne,
Harmleȝ trwe & vnde-fylde,
With-outen mote oþer mascle of sulpande synne;
Quen such þer cnoken on þe bylde,
Tyt schal hem men þe ȝate vnpynne,
Þer is þe blys þat con not blynne,
Þat þe Iueler soȝte þurȝ perre pres
& solde alle hys goud boþe wolen & lynne,
To bye hym a perle [þat] watȝ mascelleȝ.

This makelleȝ perle þat boȝt is dere,
Þe Ioueler gef fore alle hys god,
Is lyke þe reme of heuenesse clere
So sayde þe fader of folde & flode,
For hit is wemleȝ, clene & clere,
& endeleȝ rounde & blyþe of mode,
& commune to all þat ryȝtwys were,
Lo! euen in myddeȝ my breste hit stode;
My lorde þe lombe þat schede hys blode,
He pyȝt hit þere in token of pes;
I rede þe forsake þe worlde wode,
& porchace þy perle maskelles.”

“O maskeleȝ perle in perleȝ pure
Þat bereȝ” quod I, “þe perle of prys,
Quo formed þe þy fayre fygure?
Þat wroȝt þy wede, he watȝ ful wys;

Þy beaute com neuer of nature,
Pymalyon paynted neuer þy vys,
Ne arystotel nawþer by hys lettrure
Of carpe þe kynde þese properteȝ.
Þy colour passeȝ þe flour-de-lys,
Þyn angel hauyng so clene corteȝ
Breue me bryȝt, quat-kyn of priys
Bereȝ þe perle so maskelleȝ.”

“My makeleȝ lambe þat al may bete,”
Quod scho “my dere destyné
Me ches to hys make al-þaȝ vnmete,
Sum tyme semed þat assemblé
When I wente fro yor worlde wete.
He calde me to hys bonerté,
‘Cum hyder to me my lemman swete,
For mote ne spot is non in þe:’
He gef me myȝt & als bewté.
In hys blod he wesch my wede on dese,
& coronde clene in vergynté,
& pyȝt me in perleȝ maskelleȝ.”

“Why maskelleȝ bryd þat bryȝt con flambe
Þat reiateȝ hatȝ so ryche & ryf,
Quat-kyn þyng may be þat lambe,
Þat þe wolde wedde vnto hys vyf?
Ouer alle oþer so hyȝ þou clambe,
To lede with hym so ladyly lyf
So mony a cumly on vunder cambe,
For kryst han lyued in much stryf,
& þou con alle þo dere out-dryf,
& fro þat maryag al oþer depres,
Al only þyself so stout & styf,
A makeleȝ may & maskelleȝ.”

XIV.

“Maskeles,” quod þat myry quene,
“Vnblemyst I am wyth-outen blot,

& þat may I with mensk menteene;
Bot makeleȝ quene þenne sade I not,
Þe lambes vyueȝ in blysse we bene,
A hondred & forty þowsande flot
As in þe apocalyppeȝ hit is sene;
Sant Iohan hem syȝ al in a knot,
On þe hyl of syon þat semly clot.
Þe apostel hem segh in gostly drem
Arayed to þe weddyng in þat hyl coppe,
Þe nwe cyte in Ierusalem.

Of Ierusalem I speche spelle.
If þou wyl knaw what-kyn he be,
My lombe, my lorde, my dere Iuelle,
My ioy, my blys, my lemman fre,
Þe profete ysaye of hym con melle,
Pitously of hys debonerté
Þat gloryous gyltleȝ þat mon con quelle,
With-outen any sake of felonye,
As a schep to þe slaȝt þer lad watȝ he
& as lombe þat clypper in lande nem,
So closed he hys mouth fro vch query,
Quen Iueȝ hym iugged in Iherusalem.

In Ierusalem watȝ my lemman slayn
& rent on rode with boyeȝ bolde;
Al oure baleȝ to bere ful bayn,
He toke on hym self oure careȝ colde,
With boffeteȝ watȝ hys face flayn,
Þat watȝ so fayr on to byholde;
For synne he set hym self in vayn,
Þat neuer hade non hym self to wolde,
For vus he lette hym flyȝe & folde
& brede vpon a bostwys bem,
As meke as lomb þat no playnt tolde.
For vus he swalt in Ierusalem:

Ierusalem, Iordan & galalye,
Þer as baptysed þe goude saynt Ion,

His wordeȝ acorded to ysaye;
When Ihesuc con to hym warde gon
He sayde of hym þys professye,
“Lo godeȝ lombe as trwe as ston,
Þat dotȝ away þe synneȝ dryȝe!”
Þat alle þys worlde hatȝ wroȝt vpon,
Hym self ne wroȝt neuer ȝet non,
Wheþer on hym self he con al clem,
Hys generacyoun quo recen con,
Þat dyȝed for vus in Ierusalem?

In Ierusalem þus my lemman swatte,
Twyeȝ, for lombe watȝ taken þere,
By trw recorde of ayþer prophete,
For mode so meke & al hys fare,
Þe þryde tyme is þer-to ful mete
In apokalypeȝ wryten ful ȝare.
In mydeȝ þe trone þere saynteȝ sete,
Þe apostel iohan hym saytȝ as bare,
Lesande þe boke with leueȝ sware,
Þere seuen syngnetteȝ wern sette in-seme
& at þat syȝt vche douth con dare,
In helle, in erþe & Ierusalem.

XV.

Thys Ierusalem lombe hade neuer pechche
Of oþer huee bot quyt Iolyf
Þat mot ne masklle moȝt on streche
For wolle quyte so ronk & ryf,
For-þy vche saule þat hade neuer teche,
Is to þat lombe a worthyly wyf;
And þas vch day a store he feche,
Among vus commeȝ non oþer strot ne stryf,
Bot vchon enle we wolde were fyf,
Þe mo þe myryer so god me blesse.
In compayny gret our luf con þryf
In honour more & neuer þe lesse.

Lasse of blysse may non vus bryng
Þat beren þys perle vpon oure bereste,
For þay of mote couþe neuer mynge,
Of spotleȝ perleȝ þa[y] baren þe creste,
Al-þaz oure corses in clotteȝ clynge,
& ȝe remen for rauþe wyth-outen reste,
We þurȝ-outly hauen cnawyng;
Of[o]n dethe ful oure hope is drest,
Þe lombe vus gladeȝ, oure care is kest;
He myrþeȝ vus alle at vch a mes,
Vchoneȝ blysse is breme & beste,
& neuer oneȝ honour ȝet neuer þ;e les.

Lest les þou leue my tale farande,
In appocalyppece is wryten in wro
I seghe, says Iohan, þe loumbe hym stande,
On þe mount of syon ful þryuen & þro,
& wyth hym maydenneȝ an hundreþe þowsande
& fowre & forty þowsande mo
On alle her forhedeȝ wryten I fande,
Þe lombeȝ nome, hys fadereȝ also.
A hue fro heuen I herde þoo,
Lyk flodeȝ fele laden, runnen on resse,
& as þunder þroweȝ in torreȝ blo,
Þat lote I leue watȝ neuer þe les.

Nauþeles þaȝ hit schowted scharpe,
& ledden loude al-þaȝ hit were.
A note ful nwe I herde hem warpe,
To lysten þat watȝ ful lufly dere,
As harporeȝ harpen in her harpe,
Þat nwe songe þay songen ful cler.
In sounande noteȝ a gentyl carpe,
Ful fayre þe modeȝ þay fonge in fere
Ryȝt byfore godeȝ chayere,
& þe fowre besteȝ þat hym obes,
& þe alder-men so sadde of chere,
Her songe þay songen neuer þe les;

Nowþe-lese non watȝ neuer so quoynt,
For alle þe crafteȝ þat euer þay knewe.
Þat of þat songe myȝt synge a poynt,
Bot þat meyny þe lombe þay swe,
For þay arn boȝt fro þe vrþe aloynte.
As newe fryt to god ful due
& to þe gentyl lombe hit arn amoynt,
As lyk to hym self a lote & hwe,
For neuer lesyng ne tale vn-trwe,
Ne towched her tonge for no dysstresse.
Þat moteles meyny may neuer remwe,
Fro þat maskeleȝ mayster neuer þe les.”

“Neuer þe les let be my þonc,”
Quod I, “my perle þaȝ I appose,
I schulde not tempte þy wyt so wlonc,
To krysteȝ chambre þat art Ichose,
I am bot mokke & mul among,
& þou so ryche a reken rose,
& bydeȝ here by þys blysful bonc
Þer lyueȝ lyste may neuer lose,
Now hynde þat sympelnesse coneȝ enclose,
I wolde þe aske a þynge expresse,
& þaȝ I be bustwys as a blose
Let my bone vayl neuer þe lese.

XVI.

Neuer þe lese cler I yow by-calle
If ȝe con se hyt be to done,
As þou art gloryous with-outen galle,
With-nay þou neuer my ruful bone.
Haf ȝe no woneȝ in castel walle,
Ne maner þer ȝe may mete & won?
Þou telleȝ me of Ierusalem þe ryche ryalle,
Þer dauid dere watȝ dyȝt on trone,
Bot by þyse holteȝ hit con not hone
Bot in Iudee hit is þat noble note;

As ȝe ar maskeleȝ vnder mone,
Your woneȝ schulde by wyth-outen mote.

Þys moteleȝ meyny þou coneȝ of mele,
Of þousandeȝ þryȝt so gret a route,
A gret cete,for ȝe arn fele,
Yow by-hod haue with-outen doute;
So cumly a pakke of Ioly Iuele,
Wer euel don schulde lyȝ þer-oute;
& by þyse bonkeȝ þer I con gele
& I se no bygyng nawhere aboute,
I trowe al-one ȝe lenge & loute,
To loke on þe glory of þys grac[i]ous gote;
If þou hatȝ oþer bygyngeȝ stoute,
Now tech me to þat myry mote.

“That mote þou meneȝ in Iudy londe,”
Þat specyal spyce þen to me spakk,
“Þat is þe cyte þat þe lombe con fonde
To soffer inne sor for maneȝ sake,
Þe olde Ierusalem to vnder-stonde,
For þere þe olde gulte watȝ don to slake,
Bot þe nwe þat lyȝt of godeȝ sonde,
Þe apostel in apocalyppce in theme con take.
Þe lombe þer, with-outen spotteȝ blake,
Hatȝ feryed þyder hys fayre flot,
& as hys flok is with-outen flake,
So is hys mote with-outen moote.

Of motes two to carpe clene
& Ierusalem hyȝt boþe nawþeles,
Þat nys to yow no more to mene,
Bot cete of god oþer syȝt of pes.
In þat on oure pes watȝ mad at ene,
With payne to suffer þe lombe hit chese,
In þat oþer is noȝt bot pes to glene,
Þat ay schal laste with-outen reles,
Þat is þe borȝ þat we to pres,
Fro þat oure flesch be layd to rote;

Þer glory & blysse schal euer encres,
To þe meyny þat is with-outen mote.

XVII.

“Moteleȝ may so meke & mylde,”
Þen sayde I to þat lufly flor,
“Bryng me to þat bygly bylde,
& let me se þy blysful bor.”
Þat schene sayde, þat god wyl schylde,
“Þou may not enter with-inne hys tor,
Bot of þe lombe I haue þe aquylde
For a syȝt þer-of þurȝ gret fauor.
Vt-wyth to se þat clene cloystor,
Þou may, bot inwyth not a fote,
To strech in þe strete þou hatȝ no vygour,
Bot þou wer clene with-outen mote.

XVIII.

If I þis mote þe schal vn-hyde,
Bow vp to-warde þys borneȝ heued,
& I an-endeȝ þe on þis syde
Schal sve, tyl þou to a hil be veued,
Þen wolde [I] no lenger byde,
Bot lurked by launceȝ so lufly leued,
Tyl on a hyl þat I asspyed
& blusched on þe burghe, as I forth dreued,
By-ȝonde þe brok fro me warde keued,
Þat schyrrer þen sunne with schafteȝ schon;
In þe apokalypce is þe fasoun preued,
As deuyseȝ hit þe apostel Ihon.

As Iohan þe apostel hit syȝ with syȝt
I syȝe þat cyty of gret renoun,
Ierusalem so nwe & ryally dyȝt,
As hit watȝ lyȝt fro þe heuen adoun.
Þe borȝ watȝ al of brende golde bryȝt,
As glemande glas burnist broun,

With gentyl gemmeȝ an-vnder pyȝt;
With banteleȝ twelue on basyng boun,
Þe foundementeȝ twelue of riche tenoun;
Vch tabelment watȝ a serlypeȝ ston,
As derely deuyseȝ þis ilk toun,
In apocalyppeȝ þe apostel Iohan.

As þise stoneȝ in writ con nemme
I knew þe name after his tale;
Iasper hyȝt þe fyrst gemme,
Þat I on þe fyrst basse con wale,
He glente grene in þe lowest hemme.
Saffer helde þe secounde stale,
Þe calsydoyne þenne with-outen wemme,
In þe þryd table con purly pale;
Þe emerade þe furþe so grene of scale;
Þe sardonyse þe fyfþe ston;
Þe sexte þe rybe he con hit wale,
In þe apocalyppce þe apostel Iohan.

Ȝet Ioyned Iohan þe crysolyt,
Þe seuenþe gemme in fundament;
Þe aȝtþe þe beryl cler & quyt
Þe topasye twynne how þe nente endent;
Þe crysopase þe tenþe is tyȝt;
Þe Iacyngh þe enleuenþe gent;
Þe twelfþe þe gentyleste in vch a plyt,
Þe amatyst purpre with ynde blente;
Þe wal abof þe bantels bent,
Masporye as glas þat glysnande schon,
I knew hit by his deuysement,
In þe apocalyppeȝ þe apostel Iohan.

As Iohan deuysed ȝet saȝ I þare.
Þise twelue de-gres wern brode & stayre,
Þe cyte stod abof ful sware,
As longe as brode as hyȝe ful fayre;
Þe streteȝ of golde as glasse al bare,
Þe wal of Iasper þat glent as glayre;

Þe woneȝ with-inne enurned ware
Wyth alle kynneȝ perre þat moȝt repayre,
Þenne helde vch sware of þis manayre,
Twelue forlonge space er euer hit fon,
Of heȝt, of brede, of lenþe to cayre,
For meten hit syȝ þe apostel Iohan.

XIX.

As Iohan hym wryteȝ ȝet more I syȝe
Vch pane of þat place had þre ȝateȝ,
So twelue in poursent I con asspye
Þe portaleȝ pyked of rych plateȝ
& vch ȝate of a margyrye,
A parfyt perle þat neuer fateȝ;
Vchon in scrypture a name con plye,
Of israel barneȝ folewande her dateȝ,
Þat is to say as her byrþ whateȝ;
Þe aldest ay fyrst þer-on watȝ done.
Such lyȝt þer lemed in alle þe strateȝ
Hem nedde nawþer sunne ne mone.

Of sunne ne mone had þay no nede
Þe self god watȝ her lompe lyȝt,
Þe lombe her lantyrne with-outen drede,
Þurȝ hym blysned þe borȝ al bryȝt.
Þurȝ woȝe & won my lokyng ȝede,
For sotyle cler moȝt lette no lyȝt;
Þe hyȝe trone þer moȝt ȝe hede
With alle þe apparaylmente vmbe-pyȝte,
As Iohan þe appostel in termeȝ tyȝte;
Þe hyȝe godeȝ self hit set vpone.
A reuer of þe trone þer ran out-ryȝte
Watȝ bryȝter þen boþe þe sunne & mone.

Sunne ne mone schon neuer so swete;
A! þat foysoun flode out of þat flet,
Swyþe hit swange þurȝ vch a strete,
With-outen fylþe oþer galle oþer glet.

Kyrk þer-inne watȝ non ȝete,
Chapel ne temple þat euer watȝ set,
Þe al-myȝty watȝ her mynyster mete,
Þe lombe þe saker-fyse þer to reget;
Þe ȝates stoken watȝ neuer þet,
Bot euer more vpen at vche a lone;
Þer entreȝ non to take reset,
Þat bereȝ any spot an-vnder mone.

The mone may þer-of acroche no myȝte
To spotty, ho is of body to grym,
& al-so þer ne is neuer nyȝt.
What schulde þe mone þer compas clym
& to euen wyth þat worþly lyȝt,
Þat schyneȝ vpon þe brokeȝ brym?
Þe planeteȝ arn in to pouer a plyȝt,
& þe self sunne ful fer to dym.
Aboute þat water arn tres ful schym,
Þat twelue fryteȝ of lyf con bere ful sone;
Twelue syþeȝ on ȝer þay beren ful frym
& re-nowleȝ nwe in vche a mone.

An-vnder mone so gret merwayle
No fleschly hert ne myȝt endeure,
As quen I blusched vpon þat baly,
So ferly þer-of watȝ þe falure.
I stod as stylle as dased quayle,
For ferly of þat french fygure,
Þat felde I nawþer reste ne trauayle,
So watȝ I rauyste wyth glymme pure;
For I dar say, with conciens sure,
Hade bodyly burne abiden þat bone,
Þaȝ alle clerkeȝ hym hade in cure,
His lyf wer loste an-vnder mone.

XX.

Ryȝt as þe maynful mone con rys,
Er þenne þe day-glem dryue al doun,

So sodanly on a wonder wyse,
I watȝ war of a prosessyoun.
Þis noble cite of ryche enpresse
Watȝ sodanly ful with-outen sommoun
Of such vergyneȝ in þe same gyse
Þat watȝ my blysful an-vnder croun,
& coronde wern alle of þe same fasoun
Depaynt in perleȝ & wedeȝ qwyte,
In vchoneȝ breste warȝ bounden boun,
Þe blysful perle with gret delyt.

With gret delyt þay glod in fere,
On golden gateȝ þat glent as glasse;
Hundreth þowsandeȝ I wot þer were,
& alle in sute her liureȝ wasse,
Tor to knaw þe gladdest chere.
Þe lombe byfore con proudly passe,
Wyth horneȝ seuen of red golde cler,
As praysed perleȝ his wedeȝ wasse;
Towarde þe throne þay trone a tras.
Þaȝ þay wern fele no pres in plyt,
Bot mylde as maydeneȝ seme at mas,
So droȝ þay forth with gret delyt.

Delyt þat hys come encroched,
To much hit were of for to melle;
Þise alder men quen he aproched,
Grouelyng to his fete þay felle;
Legyounes of aungeleȝ togeder uoched,
Þer kesten ensens of swete smelle,
Þen glory & gle watȝ nwe abroched.
Al songe to loue þat gay Iuelle,
Þe steuen moȝt stryke þurȝ þe vrþe to helle,
Þat þe vertues of heuen of Ioye endyte,
To loue þe lombe his meyny in melle,
I-wysse I laȝt a gret delyt;

Delit þe lombe forto deuise,
With much meruayle in mynde went.

Best watȝ he, blyþest & moste to pryse,
Þat euer I herde of speche spent,
So worþly whyt wern wedeȝ hys;
His lokeȝ symple, hym self so gent,
Bot a wounde ful wyde & weete con wyse
An-ende hys hert þurȝ hyde to-rente;
Of his quyte syde his blod out-sprent,
A-las þoȝt I, who did þat spyt?
Ani breste for bale aȝt haf for-brent,
Er he þer-to hade had delyt.

The lombe delyt non lyste to wene,
Þaȝ he were hurt & wounde hade,
In his sembelaunt watȝ neuer sene,
So wern his glenteȝ gloryous glade.
I loked among his meyny schene,
How þay wyth lyf wern laste & lade,
Þen saȝ I þer my lyttel quene,
Þat I wende had standen by me in sclade;
Lorde! much of mirþe watȝ þat ho made,
Among her fereȝ þat watȝ so quyt!
Þat syȝt me gart to þenk to wade,
For luf longyng in gret delyt.

XXI.

Delyt me drof in yȝe & ere,
My maneȝ mynde to maddyng malte;
Quen I seȝ my frely I wolde be þere,
Byȝonde þe water, þaȝ ho were walte,
I þoȝt þat no þyng myȝt me dere
To fech me bur & take me halte;
& to start in þe strem schulde non me stere,
To swymme þe remnaunt, þaȝ I þer swalte,
Bot of þat munt I watȝ bi-talt;
When I schulde start in þe strem astraye,
Out of þat caste I watȝ by-calt;
Hit watȝ not at my prynceȝ paye,

Hit payed hym not þat I so flonc,
Ouer meruelous mereȝ so mad arayde,
Of raas þaȝ I were rasch & ronk,
Ȝet rapely þer-inne I watȝ restayed;
For ryȝt as I sparred vn-to þe bonc,
Þat brathe out of my drem me brayde;
Þen wakned I in þat erber wlonk,
My hede vpon þat hylle watȝ layde,
Þer as my perle to grounde strayd;
I raxled & fel in gret affray,
& sykyng to my self I sayd:
“Now al be to þat prynceȝ paye.”

Me payed ful ille to be out-fleme,
So sodenly of þat fayre regioun,
Fro alle þo syȝteȝ so quykeȝ & queme.
A longeyng heuy me strok in swone,
& rewfully þenne I con to reme;
“O perle,” quod I, “of rych renoun,
So watȝ hit me dere þat þou con deme,
In þys veray avysyoun;
If hit be ueray & soth sermoun,
Þat þou so stykeȝ in garlande gay,
So wel is me in þys doel doungoun,
Þat þou art to þat prynseȝ paye.”

To þat prynceȝ paye hade I ay bente,
& ȝerned no more þen watȝ me geuen,
& halden me þer in trwe entent,
As þe perle me prayed þat watȝ so þryuen,
As helde drawen to goddeȝ present,
To mo of his mysterys I hade ben dryuen.
Bot ay wolde man of happe more hente
Þen moȝten by ryȝt vpon hem clyuen;
Þer-fore my ioye watȝ sone to-riuen,
& I kaste of kytheȝ þat lasteȝ aye.
Lorde! mad hit arn þat agayn þa stryuen,
Oþer proferen þe oȝt agayn þy paye;

To pay þe prince oþer sete saȝte,
Hit is ful eþe to þe god krystyin;
For I haf founden hym boþe day & naȝte,
A god, a lorde, a frende ful fyin.
Ouer þis hyl þis lote I laȝte,
For pyty of my perle enclyin,
& syþen to god I hit by-taȝte,
In krysteȝ dere blessyng & myn,
Þat in þe forme of bred & wyn,
Þe preste vus scheweȝ vch a daye;
He gef vus to be his homly hyne,
Ande precious perleȝ vnto his pay.

Amen. Amen.

CLEANNESS.

I.

Clannesse who-so kyndly cowþe comende,
& rekken vp alle þe resounȝ þat ho by riȝt askeȝ,
Fayre formeȝ myȝt he fynde in forering his speche,
& in þe contraré, kark & combraunce huge;
For wonder wroth is þe wyȝ þat wroȝt alle þinge,
Wyth þe freke þat in fylþe folȝes hym after,
As renkeȝ of relygioun þat reden & syngen,
& aprochen to hys presens, & presteȝ arn called;
Thay teen vnto his temmple & temen to hym seluen,
Reken with reverence þay rechen his auter,
Þay hondel þer his aune body & vsen hit boþe.
If þay in clannes be clos þay cleche gret mede,
Bot if þay conterfete crafte, & cortaysye wont,
As be honest vt-wyth, & in-with alle fylþeȝ,
Þen ar þay synful hemself & sulped al togeder,
Boþe god & his gere, & hym to greme cachen,
He is so clene in his courte, þe kyng þat al weldeȝ,
& honeste in his hous-hold & hagherlych serued,
With angeleȝ enourled in alle þat is clene,
Boþe with-inne & with-outen, in wedeȝ ful bryȝt.
Nif he nere scoymus & skyg & non scaþe louied,
Hit were a meruayl to much, hit moȝt not falle;
Kryst kydde hit hymself in a carp oneȝ,
Þer as he heuened aȝt happeȝ & hyȝt hem her medeȝ;
Me myneȝ on one amonge oþer, as Maþew recordeȝ,
Þat þus of clannesse vn-closeȝ a ful cler speche.

Þe haþel clene of his hert hapeneȝ ful fayre,
For he schal loke on oure lorde with a bone chere,
As so saytȝ, to þat syȝt seche schal he neuer,
Þat any vnclannesse hatȝ on, anwhere abowte;
For he þat flemus vch fylþe fer fro his hert,
May not byde þat burne þat hit his body neȝen;
For-þy hyȝ not to heuen in hatere to-torne,
Ne in þe harloteȝ hod & handeȝ vnwaschen;
For what vrþly haþel þat hyȝ honour haldeȝ
Wolde lyke, if a ladde com lyþerly attyred,
When he were sette solempnely in a sete ryche,
Abof dukes on dece, with dayntys serued,
Þen þe harlot with haste helded to þe table
With rent cokreȝ at þe kne & his clutte trasches,
& his tabarde to-torne and his toteȝ oute;
Oþer ani on of alle þyse he schulde be halden vtter,
With mony blame, ful bygge a boffet, peraunter
Hurled to þe halle dore & harde þer-oute schowued,
& be for-boden þat borȝe to bowe þider neuer,
On payne of enprysonment & puttyng in stokkeȝ;
& þus schal he be schent for his schrowde feble,
Þaȝ neuer in talle ne in tuch he trespas more.
& if vnwelcum he were to a worþlych prynce
Ȝet hym is þe hyȝe kyng harder in her euen,
As Maþew meleȝ in his masse of þat man ryche,
Þat made þe mukel mangerye to marie his here dere,
& sende his sonde þen to say þat þay samne schulde,
& in comly quoyntis to com to his feste;
“For my boles & my boreȝ arn bayted & slayne,
& my fedde fouleȝ fatted with sclaȝt,
My polyle þat is penne-fed & partrykes boþe,
Wyth scheldeȝ of wylde swyn, swaneȝ & croneȝ;
Al is roþeled & rosted ryȝt to þe sete,
Comeȝ cof to my corte, er hit colde worþe.

When þay knewen his cal þat þider com schulde,
Alle ex-cused hem by þe skyly he scape by moȝt:
On hade boȝt hym a borȝ he sayde by his trawþe,
Now tne I þeder als tyd, þe toun to by-holde;
Anoþer nayed also & nurned þis cawse:
I haf ȝerned & ȝat ȝokkeȝ of oxen,
& for my hyȝeȝ hem boȝt, to bowe haue I mester,
To see hem pulle in þe plow aproche me by-houeȝ;
& I haf wedded a wyf, sower hym þe þryd,
Excuse me at þe court, I may not com þere;
Þus þay droȝ hem a-dreȝ with daunger vchone,
Þat non passed to þe place þaȝ he prayed were.
Þenne þe ludych lorde lyked ful ille
& hade dedayn of þat dede, ful dryȝly he carpeȝ:
He saytȝ “now for her owne sorȝ þay forsaken habbeȝ,
More to wyte is her wrange, þen any wylle gentyl;
Þenne gotȝ forth my gomeȝ to þe grete streeteȝ,
& for-setteȝ on vche a syde þe cete aboute;
Þe wayferande frekeȝ, on fote & on hors,
Boþe burneȝ & burdeȝ, þe better and þe wers,
Laþeȝ hem alle luflyly to lenge at my fest,
& bryngeȝ hem blyþly to borȝe as barouneȝ þay were,
So þat my palays plat-ful be pyȝt al aboute,
Þise oþer wrecheȝ I-wysse worþy noȝt wern.”
Þen þay cayred & com þat þe cost waked,
Broȝten bachlereȝ hem wyth þat þay by bonkeȝ metten,
Swyereȝ þat swyftly swyed on blonkeȝ,
& also fele vpon fote, of fre & of bonde.
When þay com to þe courte keppte wern þay fayre,
Styȝtled with þe stewarde, stad in þe halle,
Ful manerly with marchal mad for to sitte,
As he watȝ dere of de-gre dressed his seete.
Þenne seggeȝ to þe souerayn sayden þer-after,
Lo! lorde with your leue at your lege heste,

& at þi banne we haf broȝt, as þou beden habbeȝ,
Mony renischche renkeȝ & ȝet is roum more.”
Sayde þe lorde to þo ledeȝ, “layteȝ ȝet ferre,
Ferre out in þe felde, & fecheȝ mo gesteȝ,
Wayteȝ gorsteȝ & greueȝ, if ani gomeȝ lyggeȝ,
What-kyn folk so þer fare, fecheȝ hem hider,
Be þay fers, be þay feble for-loteȝ none,
Be þay hol, be þay halt, be þay on-yȝed,
& þaȝ þay ben boþe blynde & balterande cruppeleȝ,
Þat my hous may holly by halkes by fylled;
For certeȝ þyse ilk renkeȝ þat me renayed habbe
& denounced me, noȝt now at þis tyme,
Schul neuer sitte in my sale my soper to fele,
Ne suppe on sope of my seve, þaȝ þaȝ þay swelt schulde.”
Þenne þe sergaunteȝ, at þat sawe, swengen þer-oute,
& diden þe dede þat [es] demed, as he deuised hade,
& with peple of alle plyteȝ þe palays þay fyllen;
Hit weren not alle on wyueȝ suneȝ, wonen with on fader;
Wheþer þay wern worþy, oþer wers, wel wern þay stowed,
Ay þe best byfore & bryȝtest atyred,
Þe derrest at þe hyȝe dese þat dubbed wer fayrest;
& syþen on lenþe bi-looghe ledeȝ inogh,
& ay a segge soerly semed by her wedeȝ;
So with marschal at her mete mensked þay were.
Clene men in compaynye for-knowen wern lyte,
& ȝet þe symplest in þat sale watȝ serued to þe fulle,
Boþe with menske, & with mete & mynstra[l]sy noble,
& alle þe laykeȝ þat a lorde aȝt in londe schewe.
& þay bigonne to be glad þat god drink haden,
& vch mon with his mach made hym at ese.

II.

Now in-myddeȝ þe mete þe mayster him biþoȝt,
Þat he wolde se þe semblé þat samned was þere,

& rehayte rekenly þe riche & þe poueren,
& cherisch hem alle with his cher, & chaufen her Ioye.
Þen he boweȝ fro his bour in to þe brode halle,
& to þe best on þe bench, & bede hym be myry,
Solased hem with semblaunt & syled fyrre;
Tron fro table to table & talkede ay myrþe,
Bot as he ferked ouer þe flor he fande with his yȝe,
Hit watȝ not for a haly day honestly arayed,
A þral þryȝt in þe þrong unþryuandely cloþed,
Ne no festiual frok, but fyled with werkkeȝ.
The gome watȝ vngarnyst with god men to dele,
& gremed þer-with þe grete lorde & greue hym he þoȝt;
“Say me, frende,” quoth þe freke with a felle chere,
“Hov wan þou in-to þis won in wedeȝ so fowle?
Þe abyt þat þou hatȝ vpon, no halyday hit menskeȝ;
Þou burne for no brydale art busked in wedeȝ!
How watȝ þou hardy þis hous for þyn vnhap [to] neȝe,
In on so ratted a robe & rent at þe sydeȝ?
Þow art a gome vngoderly in þat goun febele;
Þou praysed me & my place ful pouer & ful [g]nede,
Þat watȝ so prest to aproche my presens here-inne;
Hopeȝ þou I be a harlot þi erigant to prayse?
Þat oþer burne watȝ abayst of his broþe wordeȝ,
& hurkeleȝ doun with his hede, þe vrþe he bi-holdeȝ;
He watȝ so scoumfit of his scylle, lest he skaþe hent,
Þat he ne wyst on worde what he warp schulde.
Þen þe lorde wonder loude laled & cryed,
& talkeȝ to his tormenttoureȝ: “takeȝ hym,” he biddeȝ,
“Byndeȝ byhynde, at his bak, boþe two his handeȝ,
& felle fettereȝ to his fete festeneȝ bylyue;
Stik hym stifly in stokeȝ, & stekeȝ hym þer-after
Depe in my doungoun þer doel euer dwelleȝ,
Greuing, & gretyng, & gryspyng harde
Of teþe tenfully to geder, to teche hym be quoynt.”
Thus comparisuneȝ kryst þe kyndom of heuenne,
To þis frelych feste þat fele arn to called,

For alle arn laþed luflyly, þe luþer & þe better,
Þat euer wern fulȝed in font þat fest to haue.
Bot war þe wel, if þou wylt, þy wedeȝ ben clene
& honest for þe haly day, lest þou harme lache,
For aproch þou to þat prynce of parage noble.
He hates helle no more þen hem þat ar sowle.
Wich arn þenne þy wedeȝ þou wrappeȝ þe inne,
Þat schal schewe hem so schene schrowde of þe best?
Hit arn þy werkes wyterly, þat þou wroȝt haueȝ,
& lyued with þe lykyng þat lyȝe in þyn hert,
Þat þo be frely & fresch fonde in þy lyue,
& fetyse of a fayr forme, to fote & to honde,
& syþen alle þyn oþer lymeȝ lapped ful clene,
Þenne may þou se þy sauior & his sete ryche.
For fele fauteȝ may a freke forfete his blysse,
Þat he þe souerayn ne se, þen for slauþe one,
As for bobaunce & bost & bolnande priyde,
Þroly in-to þe deueleȝ þrote man þryngeȝ bylyue,
For couetyse, & colwarde & croked dedeȝ,
For mon sworne, & men sclaȝt, & to much drynk,
For þeft, & for þrepyng, vnþonk may mon haue;
For roborrye, & riboudrye & resouneȝ vntrwe,
& dysheriete & depryue dowrie of wydoeȝ,
For marryng of maryageȝ & mayntnaunce of schreweȝ,
For traysoun, & trichcherye, & tyrauntyré boþe,
& for fals famacions & fayned laweȝ;
Man may mysse þe myrþe, þat much is to prayse,
For such vnþeweȝ as þise & þole much payne,
& in þe creatores cort com neuer more,
Ne neuer see hym with syȝt for such sour tourneȝ.

III.

Bot I haue herkned & herde of mony hyȝe clerkeȝ,
& als in resouneȝ of ryȝt red hit myseluen,

Þat þat ilk proper prynce þat paradys weldeȝ
Is displesed at vch a poynt þat plyes to scaþe.
Bot neuer ȝet in no boke breued I herde
Þat euer he wrek so wyþerly on werk þat he made,
Ne venged for no vilté of vice ne synne,
Ne so hastyfly watȝ hot for hatel of his wylle,
Ne neuer so sodenly soȝt vnsoundely to weng,
As for fylþe of þe flesch þat foles han vsed;
For as I fynde þer he forȝet alle his fre þewes,
And wex wod to þe wrache, for wrath at his hert,
For þe fyrste felonye þe falce fende wroȝt.
Whyl he watȝ hyȝe in þe heuen houen vpon lofte,
Of alle þyse aþel aungeleȝ attled þe fayrest,
& he vndkyndely as a karle kydde areward,
He seȝ not bot hymself how semly he were,
Bot his souerayn he forsoke & sade þyse wordeȝ:
“I schal telde vp my trone in þe tra mountayne
& by lyke to þat lorde þat þe lyft made.
With þis worde þat he warp, þe wrake on hym lyȝt,
Dryȝtyn with his dere dom hym drof to þe abyme,
In þe mesure of his mode, his metȝ neuer þe lasse,
Bot þer he tynt þe tyþe dool of his tour ryche,
Þaȝ þe feloun were so fers for his fayre wedeȝ
& his glorious glem þat glent so bryȝt;
As sone as dryȝtyneȝ dome drof to hym seluen,
Thikke þowsandeȝ thro þrwen þer-oute
Fellen fro the fyrmament, fendeȝ ful blake
Weued at þe fyrst swap as þe snaw þikke,
Hurled in-to helle-hole as þe hyue swarmeȝ;
Fylter fenden folk forty dayeȝ lencþe,
Er þat styngande storme stynt ne myȝt;
Bot as smylt mele vnder smal siue smokes for-þikke,
So fro heuen to helle þat hatel schor laste,
On vch syde of þe worlde aywhere ilyche.
Þis hit watȝ a brem brest & a byge wrache,

And ȝet wrathed not þe wyȝ, ne þe wrech saȝtled,
Ne neuer wolde, for wylnes ful, his worþy god knawe,
Ne pray hym for no pité, so proud watȝ his wylle,
For-þy þaȝ þe rape were rank, þe rawþe watȝ lyttel;
Þaȝ he be kest into kare he kepes no better.
Bot þat oþer wrake þat wex on wyȝeȝ, hit lyȝt
Þurȝ þe faut of a freke þat fayled in trawþe.
Adam in obedient ordaynt to blysse,
Þer pryuely in paradys his place watȝ devised,
To lyue þer in lykyng þe lenþe of a terme,
& thenne enherite þat home þat aungeleȝ for-gart,
Bot þurȝ þe eggyng of Eue he ete of an apple.
Þat en-poysened alle pepleȝ þat parted fro hem boþe,
For a defence þat watȝ dyȝt of dryȝtyn seluen,
& a payne þer-on put & pertly halden;
Þe defence watȝ þe fryt þat þe freke towched,
& þe dom is þe deþe þat drepeȝ vus alle.
Al in mesure & meþe was made þe vengaunce,
& efte amended with a mayden þat make had neuer.

IV.

Bot in þe þryd watȝ for-þrast al þat þryue schuld,
Þer watȝ malys mercyles & mawgre much scheued,
Þat watȝ for fylþe vpon folde þat þe folk vsed,
Þat þen worþed in þe worlde with-outen any maysterȝ;
Hit wern þe fayrest of forme & of face als,
Þe most & þe myriest þat maked wern euer,
Þe styfest, þe stalworþest þat stod euer on fete;
& lengest lyf in hem lent of ledeȝ alle oþer,
For hit was þe forme-foster þat þe folde bred,
Þe aþel auncetereȝ suneȝ þat Adam watȝ called,
To wham god hade geuen alle þat gayn were,
Alle þe blysse boute blame þat bodi myȝt haue,
& þose lykkest to þe lede þat lyued next after,

Forþy so semly to see syþen wern none.
Þer watȝ no law to hem layd bot loke to kynde,
& kepe to hit, & alle hit cors clanly ful-fylle;
& thenne founden þay fylþe in fleschlych dedeȝ
& controeued agayn kynde contraré werkeȝ,
& vsed hem vn-þryftyly vchon on oþer,
& als with oþer, wylfully, vpon a wrange wyse.
So ferly fowled her flesch þat þe fende loked,
How þe deȝter of þe douþe wern derelych fayre,
& fallen in felaȝschyp with hem on folken wyse
& en-gendered on hem Ieaunteȝ with her Iapeȝ ille.
Þose wern men meþeleȝ & maȝty on vrþe,
Þat for her lodlych laykeȝ alosed þay were.
He watȝ famed for fre þat feȝt loued best,
& ay þe bigest in bale þe best watȝ halden;
& þenne eueleȝ on erþe ernestly grewen
& multyplyed mony-fold in-mongeȝ mankynde,
For þat þe maȝty on molde so marre þise oþer,
Þat þe wyȝe þat al wroȝt ful wroþly bygynneȝ.
When he knew vche contre corupte in hit seluen,
& vch freke forloyned fro þe ryȝt wayeȝ,
Felle temptande tene towched his hert;
As wyȝe, wo hym withinne werp to hym seluen:
“Me forthynkeȝ ful much þat euer I mon made,
Bot I schal delyuer & do away þat doten on þis molde,
& fleme out of þe folde al þat flesch wereȝ,
Fro þe burne to þe best, fro bryddeȝ to fyscheȝ;
Al schal doun & be ded & dryuen out of erþe,
Þat euer I sette saule inne; & sore hit me rweȝ
Þat euer I made hem myself; bot if I may her-after,
I schal wayte to be-war her wrencheȝ to kepe.”
Þenne in worlde watȝ a wyȝe wonyande on lyue,
Ful redy & ful ryȝtwys, & rewled hym fayre;
In þe drede of dryȝtyn his dayeȝ he vseȝ,

& ay glydande wyth his god his grace watȝ þe more.
Hym watȝ þe nome Noe, as is in-noghe knawen,
He had þre þryuen suneȝ & þay þre wyueȝ;
Sem soþly þat on, þat oþer hyȝt Cam
& the Iolef Iapheth watȝ gendered þe þryd.
Now god in nwy to Noe con speke,
Wylde wrakful wordeȝ in his wylle greued:
“Þe ende of alle-kyneȝ flesch þat on vrthe meueȝ,
Is fallen forþ wyth my face & forþer hit I þenk,
With her vn-worþelych werk me wlateȝ with-inne,
Þe gore þer-of me hatȝ greued & þe glette nwyed;
I schal strenkle my distresse & strye al togeder,
Boþe ledeȝ & londe & alle þat lyf habbeȝ.
Bot make to þe a mancioun & þat is my wylle,
A cofer closed of tres, clanlych planed;
Wyrk woneȝ þerinne for wylde & for tame,
& þenne cleme hit with clay comly with-inne,
& alle þe endentur dryuen daube with-outen.
And þus of lenþe & of large þat lome þou make,
Þre hundred of cupydeȝ þou holde to þe lenþe,
Of fyfty fayre ouer-thwert forme þe brede;
& loke euen þat þyn ark haue of heȝþe þretté,
& a wyndow wyd vpon, wroȝt vpon lofte,
In þe compas of a cubit kyndely sware,
A wel dutande dor, don on þe side;
Haf halleȝ þerinne & halkeȝ ful mony,
Boþe boskeȝ & boureȝ & wel bounden peneȝ;
For I schal waken vp a water to wasch alle þe worlde,
& quelle alle þat þat is quik with quauende flodeȝ.
Alle þat glydeȝ & gotȝ, & gost of lyf habbeȝ,
I schal wast with my wrath þat wons vpon vrþe;
Bot my forwarde with þe I festen on þis wyse,
For þou in reysoun hatȝ rengned & ryȝtwys ben euer;
Þou schal enter þis ark with þyn aþel barneȝ

& þy wedded wyf; with þe þou take
Þe makeȝ of þy myry suneȝ; þis meyny of aȝte
I schal saue of monneȝ sauleȝ, & swelt þose oþer.
Of vche best þat bereȝ lyf busk þe a cupple,
Of vche clene comly kynde enclose seuen makeȝ,
Of vche horwed, in ark halde bot a payre,
For to saue me þe sede of alle ser kyndeȝ;
& ay þou meng with þe maleȝ þe mete ho-besteȝ,
Vche payre by payre to plese ayþer oþer;
With alle þe fode þat may be founde frette þy cofer,
For sustnaunce to yow-self & also þose oþer.”
Ful grayþely gotȝ þis god man & dos godeȝ hestes,
In dryȝ dred & daunger, þat durst do non oþer.
When hit watȝ fettled & forged & to þe fulle grayþed,
Þenne con dryȝttyn hym dele dryȝly þyse wordeȝ:

V.

“Now Noe,” quoth oure lorde, “art þou al redy?
Hatȝ þou closed þy kyst with clay alle aboute?”
“Ȝe lorde with þy leue,” sayde þe lede þenne,
“Al is wroȝt at þi worde, as þou me wyt lanceȝ.”
“Enter in þenne,” quoth he, “& haf þi wyf with þe,
Þy þre suneȝ with-outen þrep & her þre wyueȝ;
Besteȝ, as I bedene haue, bosk þer-inne als,
& when ȝe arn staued, styfly stekeȝ yow þerinne;
Fro seuen dayeȝ ben seyed I sende out bylyue,
Such a rowtande ryge þat rayne schal swyþe,
Þat schal wasche alle þe worlde of werkeȝ of fylþe;
Schal no flesch vpon folde by fonden on lyue;
Out-taken yow aȝt in þis ark staued,
& sed þat I wyl saue of þyse ser besteȝ.”
Now Noe neuer stysteȝ (þat niyȝ he bygynneȝ),
Er al wer stawed & stoken, as þe steuen wolde.
Thenne sone com þe seuen þe day, when samned wern alle,

& alle woned in þe whichche þe wylde & þe tame.
Þen bolned þe abyme & bonkeȝ con ryse,
Waltes out vch walle-heued, in ful wode stremeȝ,
Watȝ no brymme þat abod vnbrosten bylyue,
Þe mukel lauande loghe to þe lyfte rered.
Mony clustered clowde clef alle in clowteȝ,
To-rent vch a rayn-ryfte & rusched to þe vrþe;
Fon neuer in forty dayeȝ, & þen þe flod ryses,
Ouer-walteȝ vche a wod and þe wyde feldeȝ;
For when þe water of þe welkyn with þe worlde mette,
Alle þat deth moȝt dryȝe drowned þerinne;
Þer watȝ moon for to make when meschef was cnowen,
Þat noȝt dowed bot þe deth in þe depe stremeȝ.
Water wylger ay wax, woneȝ þat stryede,
Hurled in-to vch hous, hent þat þer dowelled.
Fyrst feng to þe flyȝt alle þat fle myȝt,
Vuche burde with her barne þe byggyng þay leueȝ,
& bowed to þe hyȝ bonk þer brentest hit wern,
& heterly to þe hyȝe hylleȝ þay aled on faste;
Bot al watȝ nedleȝ her note, for neuer cowþe stynt
Þe roȝe raynande ryg [&] þe raykande waweȝ,
Er vch boþom watȝ brurd-ful to þe bonkeȝ eggeȝ,
& vche a dale so depe þat demmed at þe brynkeȝ.
Þe moste mountayneȝ on mor þenne watȝ no more dryȝe,
And þer-on flokked þe folke, for ferde of þe wrake,
Syþen þe wylde of þe wode on þe water flette;
Summe swymmed þer-on þat saue hemself trawed,
Summe styȝe to a stud & stared to þe heuen,
Rwly wyth a loud rurd rored for drede.
Hareȝ, hertteȝ also, to þe hyȝe runnen,
Bukkeȝ, bauseneȝ & buleȝ to þe bonkkeȝ hyȝed,
& alle cryed for care to þe kyng of heuen,
Re-couerer of þe creator, þay cryed vchone,
Þat amounted þe masse, þe mase his mercy watȝ passed,
& alle his pyte departed fro peple þat he hated.
Bi þat þe flod to her fete floȝed & waxed,

Þen vche a segge seȝ wel þat synk hym byhoued;
Frendeȝ fellen in fere faþmed to-geder
To dryȝ her delful deystyné & dyȝen alle samen;
Luf lokeȝ to luf & his leue takeȝ,
For to ende alle at oneȝ & for euer twynne.
By forty dayeȝ wern faren, on folde no flesch styryed,
Þat þe flod nade al freten with feȝtande waȝeȝ,
For hit clam vche a clyffe cubites fyftene,
Ouer þe hyȝest hylle þat hurkled on erþe.
Þenne mourkne in þe mudde most ful nede
Alle þat spyrakle in-spranc, no sprawlyng awayled,
Saue þe haþel vnder hach & his here straunge,
Noe þat ofte neuened þe name of oure lorde,
Hym aȝt-sum in þat ark as aþel god lyked,
Þer alle ledeȝ in lome lenged druye.
Þe arc houen watȝ on hyȝe with hurlande goteȝ,
Kest to kyþeȝ vncouþe þe clowdeȝ ful nere.
Hit waltered on þe wylde flod, went as hit lyste,
Drof vpon þe depe dam, in daunger hit semed,
With-outen mast, oþer myke, oþer myry bawe-lyne,
Kable, oþer capstan to clyppe to her ankreȝ,
Hurrok, oþer hande-helme hasped on roþer,
Oþer any sweande sayl to seche after hauen,
Bot flote forthe with þe flyt of þe felle wyndeȝ;
Wheder-warde so þe water wafte, hit rebounde.
Ofte hit roled on-rounde & rered on ende,
Nyf oure lorde hade ben her lodeȝ-mon hem had lumpen harde.
Of þe lenþe of Noe lyf to lay a lel date,
Þe sex hundreth of his age & none odde ȝereȝ,
Of secounde monyth, þe seuenþe day ryȝteȝ,
To-walten alle þyse welle-hedeȝ & þe water flowed,
& þryeȝ fyfty þe flod of folwande dayeȝ,
Vche hille watȝ þer hidde with yreȝ ful graye;
Al watȝ wasted þat þer wonyed þe worlde withinne,

Þer euer flote, oþer flwe, oþer on fote ȝede,
Þat roȝly watȝ þe remnaunt þat þe rac dryueȝ,
Þat alle gendreȝ so ioyst wern ioyned wyth-inne.
Bot quen þe lorde of þe lyfte lyked hymseluen
For to mynne on his mon his meth þat abydeȝ,
Þen he wakened a wynde on wattereȝ to blowe;
Þenne lasned þe llak þat large watȝ are,
Þen he stac vp þe stangeȝ, stoped þe welleȝ,
Bed blynne of þe rayn, hit batede as fast,
Þenne lasned þe loȝ lowkande togeder.
After harde dayeȝ wern out an hundreth & fyfté
As þat lyftande lome luged aboute,
Where þe wynde & þe weder warpen hit wolde,
Hit saȝtled on a softe day synkande to grounde,
On a rasse of a rok, hit rest at þe laste,
On þe mounte of Mararach of Armene hilles,
Þat oþer-wayeȝ on ebrv hit hat þe thanes.
Bot þaȝ þe kyste in the crageȝ wern closed to byde,
Ȝet fyned not þe flod ne fel to the boþemeȝ,
Bot þe hyȝest of þe eggeȝ vnhuled wern a lyttel,
Þat þe burne bynne lorde byhelde þe bare erþe;
Thenne wafte he vpon his wyndowe, & wysed þeroute
A message fro þat meyny hem moldeȝ to seche,
Þat watȝ þe rauen so ronk þat rebel watȝ euer;
He watȝ colored as þe cole, corbyal vntrwe.
& he fongeȝ to þe flyȝt, & fanneȝ on þe wyndeȝ,
Houeȝ hyȝe vpon hyȝt to herken tyþynges.
He croukeȝ for comfort when carayne he fyndeȝ;
Kest vpon a clyffe þer costese lay drye,
He hade þe smelle of þe smach & smoltes þeder sone,
Falleȝ on þe foule flesch & fylleȝ his wombe,
& sone ȝederly for-ȝete ȝisterday steuen,
How þe cheuetayn hym charged þat þe kyst ȝemed.
Þe rauen raykeȝ hym forth þat reches ful lyttel
How alle fodeȝ þer fare, elleȝ he fynde mete;

Bot þe burne bynne lorde þat bod to his come,
Banned hym ful bytterly with bestes alle samen,
He secheȝ an oþer sondeȝ-mon & setteȝ on þe doune;
“Bryngeȝ þat bryȝt vpon borde blessed & sayde.”
“Wende worþelych wyȝt vus woneȝ to seche,
Dryf ouer þis dymme water; if þou druye fyndeȝ
Bryng bodworde to bot blysse to vus alle;
Þaȝ þat fowle be false, fre be þou euer.”
Ho wyrle out on þe weder on wyngeȝ ful scharpe,
Dreȝly alle alonge day þat dorst neuer lyȝt;
& when ho fyndeȝ no folde her fote on to pyche,
Ho vmbe-kesteȝ þe coste & þe kyst secheȝ,
Ho hittes on þe euentyde & on þe ark sitteȝ;
Noe nymmeȝ hir anon & naytly hir staueȝ.
Noe on anoþer day nymmeȝ efte þe dovene,
& byddeȝ hir bowe ouer þe borne efte bonkes to seche;
& ho skyrmeȝ vnder skwe & skowteȝ aboute,
Tyl hit watȝ nyȝe at þe naȝt & Noe þen secheȝ.

VI.

On ark on an euentyde houeȝ þe dowue,
On stamyn ho stod & stylle hym abydeȝ;
What! ho broȝt in hir beke a bronch of olyue,
Gracyously vmbe-grouen al with grene leueȝ;
Þat watȝ þe syngne of sauyté þat sende hem oure lorde,
& þe saȝtlyng of hymself with þo sely besteȝ.
Þen watȝ þer ioy in þat gyn where Iumpred er dryȝed,
& much comfort in þat cofer þat watȝ clay daubed.
Myryly on a fayr morn, monyth þe fyrst,
Þat falleȝ formast in þe ȝer, & þe fyrst day,
Ledeȝ loȝen in þat lome & loked þer-oute,
How þat wattereȝ wern woned & þe worlde dryed.
Vchon loued oure lorde, bot lenged ay stylle,
Tyl þay had tyþyng fro þe tolke þat tyned hem þer-inne;

Þen godeȝ glam to hem glod þat gladed hem alle,
Bede hem drawe to þe dor, delyuer hem he wolde;
Þen went þay to þe wykket, hit walt vpon sone,
Boþe þe burne & his barneȝ bowed þer-oute;
Her wyueȝ walkeȝ hem wyth & þe wylde after,
Þroly þrublande in þronge, þrowen ful þykke;
Bot Noe of vche honest kynde nem out an odde
& heuened vp an auter & halȝed hit fayre,
& sette a sakerfyse þer-on of vch a ser kynde,
Þat watȝ comly & clene, god kepeȝ non oþer.
When bremly brened þose besteȝ, & þe breþe rysed,
Þe savour of his sacrafyse soȝt to hym euen
Þat al spedeȝ & spylleȝ; he spekes with þat ilke
In comly comfort ful clos & cortays wordeȝ:
“Now Noe no more nel I neuer wary,
Alle þe mukel mayny [on] molde for no manneȝ synneȝ,
For I se wel þat hit is sothe, þat alle manneȝ wytteȝ
To vnþryfte arn alle þrawen with þoȝt of her hertteȝ,
& ay hatȝ ben & wyl be ȝet fro her barnage;
Al is þe mynde of þe man to malyce enclyned,
For-þy schal I neuer schende so shortly at ones,
As dysstrye al for maneȝ synne [in] dayeȝ of þis erþe.
Bot waxes now & wendeȝ forth & worþeȝ to monye,
Multyplyeȝ on þis molde & menske yow bytyde.
Se-souneȝ schal yow neuer sese of sede ne of heruest,
Ne hete, ne no harde forst, vmbre ne droȝþe,
Ne þe swetnesse of somer, ne þe sadde wynter,
Ne þe nyȝt, ne þe day, ne þe newe ȝereȝ,
Bot euer renne restleȝ rengneȝȝe þer-inne.”
Þerwyth he blesseȝ vch a best, & bytaȝt hem þis erþe.
Þen watȝ a skylly skyualde, quen scaped alle þe wylde;
Vche fowle to þe flyȝt þat fyþereȝ myȝt serue,
Vche fysch to þe flod þat fynne couþe nayte,
Vche beste to þe bent þat þat bytes on erbeȝ;
Wylde wormeȝ to her won wryþeȝ in þe erþe

Þe fox & þe folmarde to þe fryth wyndeȝ,
Herttes to hyȝe heþe, hareȝ to gorsteȝ,
& lyouneȝ & lebardeȝ to þe lake ryftes,
Herneȝ & hauekeȝ to þe hyȝe rocheȝ;
Þe hole foted fowle to þe flod hyȝeȝ,
& vche best at a brayde þer hym best lykeȝ;
Þe fowre frekeȝ of þe folde fongeȝ þe empyre.
Lo! suche a wrakful wo for wlatsum dedeȝ
Parformed þe hyȝe fader on folke þat he made;
Þat he chysly hade cherisched he chastysed ful hardee,
In de-voydynge þe vylanye þat venkquyst his þeweȝ.
For-þy war þe now wyȝe þat worschyp desyres,
In his comlych courte þat kyng is of blysse,
In þe fylþe of þe flesch þat þou be founden neuer,
Tyl any water in þe worlde to wasche þe fayly,
For is no segge vnder sunne so seme of his crafteȝ,
If he be sulped in synne, þat sytteȝ vnclene.
On spec of a spote may spede to mysse,
Of þe syȝte of þe souerayn þat sytteȝ so hyȝe,
For þat schewe me schale in þo schyre howseȝ,
As þe beryl bornyst byhoueȝ be clene,
Þat is sounde on vche a syde & no sem habes,
With-outen maskle oþer mote as margerye perle.

VII.

Syþen þe souerayn in sete so sore for-þoȝt
Þat euer he man vpon molde merked to lyuy,
For he in fylþe watȝ fallen, felly he uenged,
Quen four-ferde alle þe flesch þat he formed hade,
Hym rwed þat he hem vprerde & raȝt hem lyflode,
& efte þat he hem vndyd, hard hit hym þoȝt;
For quen þe swemande sorȝe soȝt to his hert,
He knyt a couenaunde cortaysly with monkynd þere,
In þe mesure of his mode & meþe of his wylle,

Þat he schulde neuer for no syt smyte al at oneȝ,
As to quelle alle quykeȝ for qued þat myȝt falle,
Whyl of þe lenþe of þe londe lasteȝ þe terme.
Þat ilke skyl for no scaþe ascaped hym neuer,
Wheder wonderly he wrak on wykked men after;
Ful felly for þat ilk faute for-ferde a kyth ryche,
In þe anger of his ire þat arȝed monye;
And al watȝ for þis ilk euel, þat vnhappen glette,
Þe venym & þe vylanye & þe vycios fylþe,
Þat by-sulpeȝ manneȝ saule in vnsounde hert,
Þat he his saueour ne see with syȝt of his yȝen,
Þat alle illeȝ he hates as helle þat stynkkeȝ;
Bot non nuyeȝ hym, on naȝt ne neuer vpon dayeȝ,
As harlottrye vnhonest, heþyng of seluen;
Þat schameȝ for no schrewedschyp schent mot he worthe!
Bot sauyour mon in þyself, þaȝ þou a sotte lyuie,
Þaȝ þou bere þy self babel, by-þenk þe sym-tyme,
Wheþer he þat stykked vche a stare in vche steppe yȝe,
Ȝif hym-self be bore blynde hit is a brod wonder;
& he þat fetly in face fettled alle eres
If he he hatȝ losed the lysten hit lyfteȝ meruayle;
Trave þou neuer þat tale, vntrwe þou hit fyndeȝ,
Þer is no dede so derne þat ditteȝ his yȝen;
Þer is no wyȝe in his werk so war ne so stylle
Þat hit ne þraweȝ to hym thre er he hit þoȝt haue;
For he is þe gropande god, þe grounde of alle dedeȝ,
Rypande of vche a ring þe reynyeȝ & hert;
& þere he fyndeȝ al fayre a freke wyth-inne
Þat hert honest & hol, þat haþel he honoureȝ,
Sendeȝ hym a sad syȝt to se his auen face,
& harde honyseȝ þise oþer & of his erde flemeȝ.
Bot of þe dome of þe douþe for dedeȝ of schame
He is so skoymus of þat skaþe, he scarreȝ bylyue,
He may not dryȝe to drawe allyt, bot drepeȝ in hast
& þat watȝ schewed schortly by a scaþe oneȝ.

VIII.

Olde Abraham in erde oneȝ he sytteȝ
Euen byfore his hous-dore vnder an oke grene;
Bryȝt blykked þe bem of þe brode heuen,
In þe hyȝe hete þer-of Abraham bideȝ,
He watȝ schunt to þe schadow vnder schyre leueȝ;
Þenne watȝ he war on þe waye of wlonk wyȝeȝ þrynne.
If þay wer farande & fre & fayre to beholde,
Hit is eþe to leue by þe last ende;
For þe lede þat þer laye the leueȝ an-vnder,
When he hade of hem syȝt he hyȝeȝ bylyue,
& as to god þe good mon gos hem agayneȝ
& haylsed hem in onhede & sayde, “hende lorde
Ȝyf euer þy mon vpon molde merit disserued,
Lenge a lyttel with þy lede I loȝly biseche;
Passe neuer fro þi pouere, ȝif I hit pray durst,
Er þou haf biden with þi burne & vnder boȝe restted;
& I schal wynne yow wyȝt of water a lyttel,
& fast aboute schal I fare your fette wer waschene;
Restteȝ here on þis rote & I schal rachche after
& brynge a morsel of bred to banne your hertte.”
“Fare forthe,” quoth þe frekeȝ, “& fech as þou seggeȝ;
By bole of þis brode tre we byde þe here.”
Þenne orppedly in to his hous he hyȝed to Saré
Comaunded hir to be cof & quyk at þis oneȝ;
“Þre metteȝ of mele menge & ma kakeȝ,
Vnder askeȝ ful hote happe hem byliue;
Quyl I fete sum quat fat þou þe fyr bete,
Prestly at þis ilke poynte sum polment to make.”
He cached to his cob-hous & a calf bryngeȝ
Þat watȝ tender & not toȝe; bed tyrne of þe hyde,
& sayde to his servaunt þat he hit seþe faste
& he deruely at his dome dyȝt hyt bylyue.
Þe burne to be bare-heued buskeȝ hym þenne,

Clecheȝ to a clene cloþe & kesteȝ on þe grene,
Þrwe þryftyly þer-on þo þre þerue kakeȝ,
& bryngeȝ butter wyth-al, & by þe bred setteȝ
Mete; messeȝ of mylke he merkkeȝ bytwene,
Syþen potage & polment in plater honest;
As sewer in a god assyse he serued hem fayre,
Wyth sadde semblaunt & swete of such as he hade,
And god as a glad gest mad god chere,
Þat watȝ fayn of his frende & his fest praysed.
Abraham, al hodleȝ with armeȝ vp-folden,
Mynystred mete byfore þo men þat myȝtes alweldeȝ;
Þenne þay sayden, as þay sete samen alle þrynne,
When þe mete watȝ remued & þay of mensk speken,
“I schal efte here away Abram,” þay sayden,
“Ȝet er þy lyueȝ lyȝt leþe vpon erþe,
& þenne schal Saré consayue & a sun bere,
Þat schal be Abrahameȝ ayre, & after hym wynne
With wele & wyth worschyp þe worþely peple
Þat schal halde in heritage, þat I haf men ȝark.”
Þenne þe burde byhynde þe dor for busmar laȝed;
& sayde sothly to hir-self Saré þe madde:
“May þou traw for tykel þat þou tonne moȝteȝ,
& I so hyȝe out of age & also my lorde,”
For soþely, as says þe wryt, he wern of sadde elde,
Boþe þe wyȝe & his wyf, such werk watȝ hem fayled,
Fro mony a brod day byfore ho barayne ay byene,
Þat selue Saré with-outen sede into þat same tyme.
Þenne sayde oure syre þer he sete “se! so Saré laȝeȝ,
Not trawande þe tale þat I þe to schewed;
Hopeȝ ho oȝt may be harde my hondeȝ to work?
& ȝet I a-vow verayly þe avaunt þat I made,
I schal ȝeply aȝayn & ȝelde þat I hyȝt,
& sothely sende to Saré a soun & an hayre.”
Þenne swenged forth Saré & swer by her trawþe,
Þat for lot þat þay lansed ho laȝed neuer.

“Now innoghe hit is not so” þene nurned þe dryȝtyn,
“For þou laȝed a-loȝ, let we hit one.”
With þat þay ros vp radly as þay rayke schulde,
& setten to-ward Sodamas her syȝt alle at-oneȝ;
For þat Cite þer bysyde watȝ sette in a vale,
No myleȝ fro Mambre mo þen tweyne,
Where-so wonyed þis ilke wyȝ þat wendeȝ with oure lorde,
For to tent hym with tale & teche hym þe gate,
Þen glydeȝ forth god, þe god-mon hym folȝeȝ.
Abraham heldeȝ hem wyth, hem to conueye,
In towarde þe Cety of Sodamas þat synned had þenne
In þe faute of þis fylþe; þe fader hem þretes,
& sayde þus to þe segg þat sued hym after:
“How myȝt I hyde myn hert fro Habraham þe trwe,
Þat I ne dyscouered to his corse my counsayle so dere.
Syþen he is chosen to be chef chyldryn fader,
Þat so folk schal falle fro, to flete alle þe worlde,
& vche blod in þat burne blessed schal worþe.
Me bos telle to þat tolk þe tene of my wylle
& alle myn atlyng to Abraham vn-haspe bylyue.

IX.

The grete soun of Sodamas synkkeȝ in myn ereȝ,
& þe gult of Gomorre gareȝ me to wrath;
I schal lyȝt in-to þat led & loke my seluen,
If þay haf don as þe dyne dryueȝ on-lofte,
Þay han lerned a lyst þat lykeȝ me ille,
Þat þay han founden in her flesch of fauteȝ þe werst.
Vch male matȝ his mach a man as hym-seluen,
& fylter folyly in fere, on femmaleȝ wyse.
I compast hem a kynde crafte & kende hit hem derne,
& amed hit in myn ordenaunce oddely dere,
& dyȝt drwry þer-inne, doole alþer-swettest,
& þe play of paramoreȝ I portrayed my seluen;
& made þer-to a maner myriest of oþer,
When two true togeder had tyȝed hem seluen,

Bytwene a mal & his make such merþe schulde conne;
Wel nyȝe pure paradys moȝt preue no better,
Elleȝ þay moȝt honestly ayþer oþer welde.
At a stylle stollen steuen, vnstered wyth syȝt,
Luf lowe hem bytwene lasched so hote,
Þat alle þe meschefeȝ on mold moȝt hit not sleke;
Now haf þay skyfted my skyl & scorned natwre,
& hentteȝ hem in heþyng an vsage vn-clene;
Hem to smyte for þat smod smartly I þenk
Þat wyȝes schal be by hem war, worlde with-outen ende.”
Þenne arȝed Abraham & alle his mod chaunge[d],
For hope of þe harde hate þat hyȝt hatȝ oure lorde;
Al sykande he sayde “Syre with yor leue,
Schal synful & sakleȝ suffer al on payne;
Weþer euer hit lyke my lorde to lyfte such domeȝ,
Þat þe wykked & þe worþy schal on wrake suffer,
And weye vpon þe worre half þat wrathed þe neuer?
Þat watȝ neuer þy won þat wroȝteȝ vus alle.
Now fyfty fyn frendeȝ wer founde in ȝonde toune
In þe City of Sodamas & also Gomorré,
Þat neuer lakked þy laue, bot loued ay trauþe,
& reȝt-ful wern & resounable & redy þe to serue,
Schal þay falle in þe faute þat oþer frekeȝ wroȝt
& ioyne to her iuggement her iuise to haue?
Þat nas neuer þyn note, vnneuened hit worþe,
Þat art so gaynly a god & of goste mylde!”
“Nay for fyfty,” quoth þe fader, “& þy fayre speche,
& þay be founden in þat folk of her fylþe clene,
I schal forgyue alle þe gylt þurȝ my grace one,
& let hem smolt al un-smyten smoþely atoneȝ.”
“A.a.! blessed be þow,” quoth þe burne, “so boner & þewed,
& al haldeȝ in þy honde, þe heuen & þe erþe,
Bot for I haf þis talke tatȝ to non ille,
Ȝif I mele a lyttel more þat mul am & askeȝ;

What if fyue faylen of fyfty þe noumbre,
& þe remnaunt be reken, how restes þy wylle?”
“And fyue wont of fyfty,” quoth god, “I schal forȝete alle
& wyth-halde my honde for hortyng on lede.”
“And quat if faurty be fre and fauty þyse oþer
Schalt þow schortly al schende & schape non oþer.”
“Nay þaȝ faurty forfete ȝet fryst I a whyle,
& voyde away my vengaunce, þaȝ me vyl þynk.”
Þen Abraham obeched hym & loȝly him þonkkeȝ,
“Now sayned be þou sauiour, so symple in þy wrath!
I am bot erþe ful euel & vsle so blake,
For to mele wyth such a mayster as myȝteȝ hatȝ alle,
Bot I haue by-gonnen wyth my god, and he hit gayn þynkeȝ,
Ȝif I for-loyne as a fol þy fraunchyse may serue;
What if þretty þryuande be þrad in ȝon touneȝ,
What schal I leue if my lorde, if he hem leþe wolde?”
Þenne þe godlych god gef hym onsware,
“Ȝet for þretty in þrong I schal my þro steke,
& spare spakly of spyt in space of my þeweȝ,
& my rankor refrayne for þy reken wordeȝ.”
“What for twenty,” quoth þe tolke, “vntwyneȝ þou hem þenne?”
“Nay, ȝif þou ȝerneȝ hit, ȝet ȝark I hem grace;
If þat twenty be trwe I tene hem no more,
Bot relece alle þat regioun of her ronk werkkeȝ.”
“Now aþel lorde,” quoth Abraham, “oneȝ a speche
& I schal schape no more þo schalkkeȝ to helpe;
If ten trysty in toune be tan in þi werkkeȝ
Wylt þou mese þy mode & menddyng abyde?”
“I graunt,” quoth þe grete god, “graunt mercy þat oþer.”
& þenne arest þe renk & raȝt no fyrre;
& godde glyddeȝ his gate by þose grene wayeȝ
& he conueyen hym con with cast of his yȝe,

& als he loked along þere as oure lorde passed,
Ȝet he cryed hym after with careful steuen:
“Meke mayster on þy mon to mynne if þe lyked,
Loth lengeȝ in ȝon leede þat is my lef broþer,
He sytteȝ þer in Sodomis, þy servaunt so pouere
Among þo mansed men þat han þe much greued;
Ȝif þou tyneȝ þat toun, tempre þyn yre
As þy mersy may malte þy meke to spare.”
Þen he wendeȝ, wendeȝ his way wepande for care
Towarde þe mere of mambre wepande for sorewe,
& þere in longyng al nyȝt he lengeȝ in wones,
Whyl þe souverayn to Sodamas sende to spye.

X.

His sondes in-to Sodamas watȝ sende in þat tyme,
In þat ilk euentyde, by aungels tweyne,
Meuande meuande mekely togeder as myry men ȝonge,
As Loot in a loge dor leued hym alone,
In a porche of þat place pyȝt to þe ȝates,
Þat watȝ ryal & ryche, so watȝ þe renkes seluen.
As he stared in-to þe strete þer stout men played
He syȝe þer swey in asent swete men tweyne;
Bolde burneȝ wer þay boþe with berdles chynneȝ,
Royl rollande fax to raw sylk lyke,
Of ble as þe brere flour where-so þe bare scheweed,
Ful clene watȝ þe countenaunce of her cler yȝen;
Wlonk whit watȝ her wede & wel hit hem semed.
Of alle fetureȝ ful fyn & fautleȝ boþe;
Watȝ non autly in ouþer, for aungels hit wern,
And þat þe ȝep vnder-ȝede þat in þe ȝate sytteȝ.
He ros vp ful radly & ran hem to mete
& loȝe he louteȝ hem to Loth to þe grounde,
& syþen soberly [satȝ] “Syreȝ I yow byseche,
Þat ȝe wolde lyȝt at my loge & lenge þer-inne,
Comeȝ to your kuchieȝ-kote I craue at þis oneȝ;

I schal fette yow a fatte your fette for to wasche;
I norne yow bot for on nyȝt neȝe me lenge,
& in þe myry mornyng ȝe may your waye take.”
And þay nay þat þay nolde neȝ no howseȝ,
Bot stylly þer in þe strete as þay stadde wern,
Þay wolde lenge þe long naȝt & logge þer-oute;
Hit watȝ hous innoȝe to hem þe heuen vpon lofte.
Loth laþed so longe wyth luflych wordeȝ,
Þat þay hym graunted to go & gruȝt no lenger.
Þe bolde to his byggyng bryngeȝ hem bylyue,
Þat ryally [watȝ] arayed, for he watȝ ryche euer.
Þe wyȝeȝ wern welcom as þe wyf couþe,
His two dere doȝtereȝ deuoutly hem haylsed,
Þat wer maydeneȝ ful meke, maryed not ȝet,
& þay wer semly & swete, & swyþe wel arayed.
Loth þenne ful lyȝtly lokeȝ hym aboute,
& his men amonestes mete for to dyȝt,
Bot þenkkeȝ on hit be þrefte what þynk so ȝe make,
For wyth no sour ne no salt serueȝ hym neuer.
Bot ȝet I wene þat þe wyf hit wroth to dyspyt,
& sayde softely to hirself “þis vn-fauere hyne
Loueȝ no salt in her sauce ȝet hit no skyl were,
Þat oþer burne be boute þaȝ boþe be nyse.”
Þenne ho sauereȝ with salt her seueȝ vchone
Agayne þe bone of þe burne þat hit forboden hade,
& als ho scelt hem in scorne þat wel her skyl knewen.
Why watȝ ho wrech so wod, ho wrathed oure lorde!
Þenne seten þay at þe soper, wern serued bylyue,
Þe gestes gay and ful glad, of glam debonere,
Wela-wynnely wlonk tyl þay waschen hade,
Þe trestes tylt to þe woȝe & þe table boþe.
Fro þe seggeȝ haden souped & seten bot a whyle,
Er euer þay bosked to bedde þe borȝ watȝ al vp;
Alle þat weppen myȝt welde, þe wakker & þe stronger,

To vmbe-lyȝe Lotheȝ hous þe ledeȝ to take,
In grete flokkeȝ of folk, þay fallen to his ȝateȝ,
As a scowte wach scarred, so þe asscry rysed;
With kene clobbeȝ of þat clos þay clatȝ on þe woweȝ,
& wyth a schrylle scharp schout þay schewe þyse worde:
“If þou louyeȝ þy lyf Loth in þyse woneȝ
Ȝete vus out þose ȝong men þat ȝore-whyle here entred,
Þat we may lere hym of lof, as oure lyst biddeȝ,
As in þe asyse of Sodomas to seggeȝ þat passen.”
Whatt! þay sputen & speken of so spitous fylþe,
What! þay ȝeȝed & ȝolped of ȝestande sorȝe,
Þat ȝet þe wynd, & þe weder, & þe worlde stynkes
Of þe brych þat vpbraydeȝ þose broþelych wordeȝ.
Þe god man glyfte with þat glam & gloped for noyse,
So scharpe schame to hym schot, he schrank at þe hert,
For he knew þe costoum þat kyþed þose wrecheȝ.
He doted neuer for no doel so depe in his mynde,
Allas! sayd hym þenne Loth, & lyȝtly he ryseȝ
& boweȝ forth fro þe bench in to þe brode ȝates.
What! he wonded no woþe of wekked knaueȝ,
Þat he ne passed þe port þe peril to abide.
He went forthe at þe wyket & waft hit hym after,
Þat a clyket hit cleȝt clos hym byhynde.
Þenne he meled to þo men mesurable wordeȝ;
For harloteȝ with his hendelayk he hoped to chast;
“O.o! my frendeȝ so fre, your fare is to strange,
Dotȝ away your derf dyn & dereȝ neuer my gestes,
Avoy! hit is your vylaynye, ȝe vylen your seluen;
& ȝe ar iolyf gentylmen your iapes ar ille.
Bot I schal kenne yow by kynde a crafte þat is better;
I haf a tresor in my telde of tow my fayre deȝter,
Þat ar maydeneȝ vnmard for alle men ȝette;
In Sodamas, þaȝ I hit say, non semloker burdes,
Hit arn ronk, hit arn rype & redy to manne;

To samen wyth þo semly þe solace is better,
I schal biteche yow þo two þat tayt arn & quoynt,
& laykeȝ wyth hem as yow lyst & leteȝ my gestes one.”
Þenne þe rebaudeȝ so ronk rered such a noyse,
Þat aȝly hurled in his ereȝ her harloteȝ speche;
“Wost þou not wel þat þou woneȝ here a wyȝe strange,
An out-comlyng, a carle, we kylle of þyn heued.
Who Ioyned þe be Iostyse our iapeȝ to blame,
Þat com a boy to þis borȝ, þaȝ þou be burne ryche?”
Þus þay þrobled & þrong & þrwe vmbe his ereȝ,
& distresed hym wonder strayt, with strenkþe in þe prece,
Bot þat þe ȝonge men, so ȝepe, ȝornen þer oute,
Wapped vpon þe wyket & wonnen hem tylle,
& by þe hondeȝ hym hent & horyed him with-inne,
& steken þe ȝates ston-harde wyth stalworth barreȝ.
Þay blwe a buffet in blande þat banned peple,
Þat þay blustered as blynde as bayard watȝ euer;
Þay lest of Loteȝ logging any lysoun to fynde,
Bot nyteled þer alle þe nyȝt for noȝt at þe last;
Þenne vch tolke tyȝt hem þat hade of tayt fayled,
& vchon roþeled to þe rest þat he reche moȝt;
Bot þay wern wakened al wrank þat þerin won lenged,
Of on þe vglokest vnhap þat euer on erd suffred.

XI.

Ruddon of þe day-rawe ros vpon vȝten,
When merk of þe mydnyȝt moȝt no more last,
Ful erly þose aungeleȝ þis haþel þay ruþen
& glopnedly on godeȝ halue gart hym vpryse,
Fast þe freke ferkeȝ vp ful ferd at his hert;
Þay comaunded hym cof to cach þat he hade,
“Wyth þy wyf & þy wyȝeȝ & þy wlonc deȝtters,
For we laþe þe Syr Loth þat þou þy lyf haue;
Cayre tid of þis kythe er combred þou worþe,

With alle þi here vpon haste, tyl þou a hil fynde;
Foundeȝ faste on your fete, bifore your face lokes,
Bot bes neuer so bolde to blusch yow bihynde,
And loke ȝe stemme no stepe, bot strecheȝ on faste,
Til ȝe reche to areset, rest ȝe neuer;
For we schal tyne þis toun & trayþely disstrye,
Wyth alle þise wyȝeȝ so wykke wyȝtly deuoyde
& alle þe londe with þise ledeȝ we losen at-oneȝ;
Sodomas schal ful sodenly synk in-to grounde,
& þe grounde of Gomorre gorde in-to helle,
& vche a koste of þis kyth clater vpon hepes.
Þen laled Loth, “lorde what is best?
If I me fele vpon fote þat I fle moȝt,
Hov schulde I huyde me fro hem þat hatȝ his hate kynned,
In þe brath of his breth þat brenneȝ alle þinkeȝ,
To crepe fro my creatour & know not wheder,
Ne wheþer his foo-schip me folȝes bifore oþer bihynde?”
Þe freke sayde “no foschip oure fader hatȝ þe schewed,
Bot hiȝly heuened þi hele fro hem þat arn combred:
Nov walle þe a wonnyng þat þe warisch myȝt,
& he schal saue hit for þy sake þat hatȝ vus sende hider,
For þou art oddely þyn one out of þis fylþe,
& als Abraham þy broþer hit at himself asked.”
“Lorde loued he worþe,” quoth Loth, “vpon erþe!
Þen is a cite her bisyde þat Segor hit hatte,
Here vtter on a rounde hil hit houeȝ hit one,
I wolde, if his wylle wore, to þat won scape.”
“Þenne fare forth,” quoth þat fre, “& fyne þou neuer
With þose ilk þat þow wylt þat þrenge þe after,
& ay goande on your gate, wythouten agayn-tote
For alle þis londe schal be lorne, longe er þe sonne rise.”
Þe wyȝe wakened his wyf & his wlonk deȝteres,
& oþer two myri men þo maydeneȝ schulde wedde;
& þay token hit as-tyt & tented hit lyttel,

Þaȝ fast laþed hem Loth, þay leȝen ful stylle.
Þe aungeleȝ hasted þise oþer & aȝly hem þratten,
& enforsed alle fawre forth at þe ȝateȝ,
Þo wern Loth & his lef, his luflyche deȝter,
Þer soȝt no mo to sauement of cities aþel fyue.
Þise aungeleȝ hade hem by hande out at þe ȝateȝ,
Prechande hem þe perile, & beden hem passe fast,
“Lest ȝe be taken in þe teche of tyraunteȝ here,
Loke ȝe bowe now bi bot, boweȝ fast hence!”
& þay kayre-ne con & kenely flowen;
Erly, er any heuen glem, þay to a hil comen.
Þe grete god in his greme bygynneȝ on-lofte;
To wakan wedereȝ so wylde þe wyndeȝ he calleȝ,
& þay wroþely vp-wafte & wrastled togeder,
Fro fawre half of þe folde, flytande loude.
Clowddeȝ clustered bytwene kesten vp torres,
Þat þe þik þunder þrast þirled hem ofte.
Þe rayn rueled adoun, ridlande þikke,
Of felle flaunkes of fyr & flakes of soufre,
Al in smolderande smoke smachande ful ille,
Swe aboute Sodamas & hit sydeȝ alle,
Gorde to Gomorra þat þe grounde laused;
Abdama and Syboym, þise ceteis alle faure,
Al bi-rolled wyth þe rayn, rostted & brenned,
& ferly flayed þat folk þat in þose fees lenged;
For when þat þe helle herde þe houndeȝ of heuen
He watȝ ferlyly fayn, vnfolded by lyue.
Þe grete barreȝ of þe abyme he barst vp at oneȝ,
Þat alle þe regioun to-rof in riftes ful grete,
& clouen alle in lyttel cloutes þe clyffeȝ aywhere,
As lance leueȝ of þe boke þat lepes in twynne.
Þe brethe of þe brynston bi þat hit blende were,
Al þo citees & her sydes sunkken to helle.
Rydelles wern þo grete rowtes of renkkes withinne,
When þay wern war of þe wrake þat no wyȝe achaped,

Such a ȝomerly ȝarm of ȝellyng þer rysed;
Þer-of clatered þe cloudes þat kryst myȝt haf rawþe.
Þe segge herde þat soun to Segor þat ȝede,
& þe wenches hym wyth þat by þe way folȝed;
Ferly ferde watȝ her flesch, þat flowen ay ilyche,
Trynande ay a hyȝe trot þat torne neuer dorsten.
Loth & þo luly-whit his lefly two deȝter,
Ay folȝed here face, bifore her boþe yȝen;
Bot þe balleful burde, þat neuer bode keped,
Blusched byhynden her bak, þat bale for to herkken;
Hit watȝ lusty Lothes wyf þat ouer he[r] lyfte schulder.
Ones ho bluschet to þe burȝe, bot bod ho no lenger,
Þat ho nas stadde a stiffe ston, a stalworth image
Al-so salt as ani se & so ho ȝet standeȝ.
Þay slypped bi & syȝe hir not þat wern hir samen feres,
Tyl þay in Segor wern sette, & sayned oure lorde;
Wyth lyȝt loueȝ vp-lyfte þay loued hym swyþe,
Þat so his servauntes wolde see & saue of such woþe.
Al watȝ dampped & don, & drowned by þenne;
Þe ledeȝ of þat lyttel toun wern lopen out for drede,
In-to þat malscrande mere, marred bylyue,
Þat noȝt saued watȝ bot Segor þat sat on a lawe,
Þe þre ledeȝ þer-in, Loth and his deȝter;
For his make watȝ myst, þat on þe mount lenged
In a stonen statue þat salt sauor habbes,
For two fautes þat þe fol watȝ founde in mis-trauþe;
On, ho serued at þe soper salt bifore dryȝtyn
& syþen, ho blusched hir bihynde, þaȝ hir forboden were;
For on ho standes a ston, & salt for þat oþer,
& alle lyst on hir lik þat arn on launde bestes.
Abraham ful erly watȝ vp on þe morne,
Þat alle naȝt [so] much niye hade no mon in his hert,
Al in longing for Loth leyen in a wache,
Þer he lafte hade our lorde, he is on lofte wonnen;
He sende toward Sodomas þe syȝt of his yȝen,

Þat euer hade ben an erde of erþe þe swettest
As aparaunt to paradis þat plantted þe dryȝtyn,
Nov is hit plunged in a pit like of pich fylled.
Suche a roþun of a reche ros fro þe blake,
Askeȝ vpe in þe ayre & vselleȝ þer flowen,
As a fornes ful of flot þat vpon fyr boyles,
When bryȝt brennande brondeȝ ar bet þer an-vnder.
Þis watȝ a vengaunce violent þat voyded þise places,
Þat foundered hatȝ so fayr a folk & þe folde sonkken.
Þer faure citees wern set, nov is a see called,
Þat ay is drouy & dym, & ded in hit kynde,
Blo, blubrande, & blak, vnblyþe to neȝe,
As a stynkande stanc þat stryed synne,
Þat euer of synne & of smach, smart is to fele;
Forþy þe derk dede see hit is demed euer more,
For hit dedeȝ of deþe duren þere ȝet.
For hit is brod & boþemleȝ, & bitter as þe galle,
& noȝt may lenge in þat lake þat any lyf bereȝ,
& alle þe costeȝ of kynde hit combreȝ vchone;
For lay þer-on a lump of led & hit on loft fleteȝ,
& folde þer-on a lyȝt fyþer & hit to founs synkkeȝ.
& þer water may walter to wete any erþe,
Schal neuer greue þer-on growe, gresse ne wod nawþer.
If any schalke to be schent wer schowued þer-inne,
Þaȝ he bode in þat boþem broþely a monyth,
He most ay lyue in þat loȝe in losyng euer-more,
& neuer dryȝe no dethe, to dayes of ende,
And, as hit is corsed of kynde & hit coosteȝ als,
Þe clay þat clenges þer-by arn corsyes strong,
As alum & alkaran, that angré arn boþe,
Soufre sour, & saundyuer, & oþer such mony;
& þer walteȝ of þat water in waxlokes grete,
Þe spuniande aspaltoun þat spysereȝ sellen;

& suche is alle þe soyle by þat se halues,
Þat fel fretes þe flesch & festred bones.
& þer ar tres by þat terne of traytoures;
& þay borgouneȝ & beres blomeȝ ful fayre,
& þe fayrest fryt þat may on folde growe,
As orenge & oþer fryt & apple garnade;
Also red & so ripe & rychely hwed,
As any dom myȝt device of dayntyeȝ oute;
Bot quen hit is brused oþer broken, oþer byten in twynne,
No worldeȝ goud hit wyth-inne, bot wydowande askes;
Alle þyse ar teches & tokenes to trow vpon ȝet,
& wittnesse of þat wykked werk & þe wrake after,
Þat oure fader forferde for fylþe of þose ledes.
Þenne vch wyȝe may wel wyt þat he þe wlonk louies,
& if he louyes clene layk þat is oure lorde ryche,
& to be couþe in his courte þou coueytes þenne
To se þat semly in sete & his swete face,
Clerrer counseyl, counsayl con I non, bot þat þou clene worþe.
For Clopyngnel in þe compas of his clene Rose,
Þer he expouneȝ a speche, to hym þat spede wolde,
Of a lady to be loued, loke to hir sone,
Of wich beryng þat ho be, & wych ho best louyes,
& be ryȝt such in vch a borȝe of body & of dedes,
& folȝ þe fet of þat fere þat þou fre haldes.
& if þou wyrkkes on þis wyse, þaȝ ho wyk were,
Hir schal lyke þat layk þat lyknes hir tylle.
If þou wyl dele drwrye wyth dryȝtyn þenne,
& lelly louy þy lorde & his leef worþe,
Þenne confourme þe to kryst, & þe clene make,
Þat euer is polyced als playn as þe perle seluen.
For loke fro fyrst þat he lyȝt with-inne þe lel mayden!
By how comly a kest he watȝ clos þere,

When venkkyst watȝ no vergynyté, nevyolence maked,
Bot much clener watȝ hir corse, God kynned þerinne;
& efte when he borne watȝ in Beþelen þe ryche,
In wych puryté þay departed; þaȝ þay pouer were,
Watȝ neuer so blysful a bour as watȝ abos þenne
Ne no schroude hous so schene as a-schepon þare,
Ne non so glad vnder god as ho þat grone schulde;
For þer watȝ seknesse al sounde þat sarrest is halden,
& þer watȝ rose reflayr where rote hatȝ ben euer,
& þer watȝ solace & songe where sorȝ hatȝ ay cryed;
For aungelles with instrumentes of organes & pypes,
& rial ryngande rotes & þe reken fyþel,
& alle hende þat honestly moȝt an hert glade,
Aboutte my lady watȝ lent, quen ho delyuer were.
Þenne watȝ her blyþe barne burnyst so clene,
Þat boþe þe ox & þe asse hym hered at-ones;
Þay knewe hym by his clannes for kyng of nature,
For non so clene of such a clos com neuer er þenne;
& ȝif clanly he þenne com, ful cortays þer-after,
Þat alle þat longed to luþer ful lodly he hated;
By nobleye of his norture he nolde neuer towche
Oȝt þat watȝ vngoderly oþer ordure watȝ inne.
Ȝet comen lodly to þat lede, as laȝares ful monye,
Summe lepre, summe lome, & lomerande blynde,
Poysened & parlatyk & pyned in fyres,
Drye folk & ydropike, & dede at þe laste;
Alle called on þat cortayse & claymed his grace.
He heled hem wyth hynde speche of þat þay ask after,
For what-so he towched also-tyd tourned to hele,
Wel clanner þen any crafte cowþe deuyse;
So clene watȝ his hondelyng vche ordure hit schonied,
& þe gropyng so goud of God & man boþe,
Þat for fetys of his fyngeres fonded he neuer
Nauþer to cout ne to kerue, with knyf ne wyth egge,
For-þy brek he þe bred blades wythouten;

For hit ferde freloker in fete in his fayre honde,
Displayed more pryuyly when he hit part schulde,
Þenne alle þe toles of Tolowse moȝt tyȝt hit to kerue,
Þus is he kyryous & clene þat þou his cort askes;
Hov schulde þou com to his kyth bot-if þou clene were?
Nov ar we sore & synful & soverly vch one,
How schulde we se, þen may we say, þat syre vpon throne?
Ȝis, þat mayster is mercyable; þaȝ þou be man fenny,
& al to-marred in myre whyl þou on molde lyuyes,
Þou may schyne þurȝ schryfte, þaȝ þou haf schome serued,
& pure þe with penaunce tyl þou a perle worþe.
Perle praysed is prys, þer perre is schewed,
Þaȝ hym not derrest be demed to dele for penies,
Quat may þe cause be called, bot for hir clene hwes,
Þat wynnes worschyp, abof alle whyte stones?
For ho schynes so schyr þat is of schap rounde,
Wyth-outen faut oþer fylþe ȝif ho fyn were;
& wax euer in þe worlde in weryng so olde,
Ȝet þe perle payres not whyle ho in pyese lasttes
& if hit cheue þe chaunce vncheryst ho worþe,
Þat ho blyndes of ble in bour þer ho lygges,
No-bot wasch hir wyth wourchyp in wyn as ho askes,
Ho by kynde schal becom clerer þen are;
So if folk be defowled by vnfre chaunce,
Þat he be sulped in sawle, seche to schryfte
& he may polyce him at þe prest, by penaunce taken,
Wel bryȝter þen þe beryl oþer browden perles.
Bot war þe wel, if þou be waschen wyth water of schryfte,
& polysed als playn as parchmen schauen,
Sulp no more þenne in synne þy saule þer-after,
For þenne þou dryȝtyn dyspleses with dedes ful sore,
& entyses hym to tene more trayþly þen euer

& wel hatter to hate þen hade þou not waschen;
For when a sawele is saȝtled & sakred to dryȝtyn,
He holly haldes hit his & haue hit he wolde,
Þenne efte lastes hit likkes, he loses hit ille,
As hit were rafte wyth vnryȝt & robbed wyth þewes.
War þe þenne for þe wrake, his wrath is achaufed,
For þat þat ones watȝ his schulde efte be vnclene,
Þaȝ hit be bot a bassyn, a bolle, oþer a scole,
A dysche oþer a dobler þat dryȝtyn oneȝ serued,
To defowle hit euer vpon folde fast he forbedes,
So is he scoymus of scaþe þat scylful is euer.
And þat watȝ bared in Babyloyn in Baltaȝar tyme,
Hov harde vnhap þer hym hent & hastyly sone,
For he þe vesselles avyled þat vayled in þe temple
In seruyse of þe souerayn sum tyme byfore.
Ȝif ȝe wolde tyȝt me a tom telle hit I wolde,
Hov charged more watȝ his chaunce þat hem cherych nolde
Þen his fader forloyne þat feched hem wyth strenþe,
& robbed þe relygioun of relykes alle.

XII.

Danyel in his dialokeȝ devysed sum tyme,
As ȝet is proued expresse in his profecies,
Hov þe gentryse of Iuise & Iherusalem þe ryche
Watȝ disstryed with distres, & drawen to þe erþe,
For þat folke in her fayth watȝ founden vntrwe,
Þat haden hyȝt þe hyȝe god to halde of hym euer;
& he hem halȝed for his & help at her nede
In mukel meschefes mony, þat meruayl [is] to here;
& þay forloyne her fayth & folȝed oþer goddes,
& þat wakned his wrath and wrast hit so hyȝe,
Þat he fylsened þe faythful in þe falce lawe
To for-fare þe falce in þe faythe trwe;
Hit watȝ sen in þat syþe þat Ȝedethyas rengned,

In Iuda, þat iustised þe Iuyne kynges.
He sete on Salamones solie, on solemne wyse,
Bot of leaute he watȝ lat to his lorde hende;
He vsed abominaciones of idolatrye,
& lette lyȝt bi þe lawe þat he was lege tylle;
For-þi oure fader vpon folde a foman hym wakned,
Nabigo-de-noȝar nuyed hym swyþe.
He pursued in to Palastyn with proude men mony,
& þer he wast wyth with werre þe wones of þorpes.
He herȝed vp al Israel & hent of þe beste,
& þe gentylest of Iudee in Ierusalem biseged,
Vmbe-walt alle þe walles wyth wyȝes ful stronge,
At vche a dor a doȝty duk, and dutte hem wyth-inne;
For þe borȝ watȝ so bygge baytayled alofte,
& stoffed wyth-inne with stout men to stalle hem þer-oute.
Þenne watȝ þe sege sette þe Cete aboute,
Skete skarmoch skelt, much skaþe lached;
At vch brugge a berfray on basteles wyse,
Þat seuen syþe vch a day asayled þe ȝates,
Trwe tulkkes in toures teneled wyth-inne,
In bigge brutage of borde, bulde on þe walles;
Þay feȝt & þay fende of, & fylter togeder
Til two ȝer ouer-torned, ȝet tok þay hit neuer.
At þe laste vpon longe, þo ledes wyth-inne,
Faste fayled hem þe fode, enfaminied monie;
Þe hote hunger wythinne hert hem wel sarre,
Þen any dunt of þat douthe þat dowelled þer-oute.
Þenne wern þo rowtes redeles in þo ryche wones,
Fro þat mete watȝ myst, megre þay wexen,
& þay stoken so strayt, þat þay ne stray myȝt
A fote fro þat forselet to forray no goudes.
Þenne þe kyng of þe kyth a counsayl hym takes,
Wyth þe best of his burnes, a blench for to make;
Þay stel out on a stylle nyȝt er any steuen rysed,

& harde hurles þurȝ þe oste, er enmies hit wyste,
Bot er þay at-wappe ne moȝt þe wach wyth oute,
Hiȝe skelt watȝ þe askry þe skewes an-vnder,
Loude alarom vpon launde lulted was þenne;
Ryche, ruþed of her rest, ran to here wedes,
Hard hattes þay hent & on hors lepes;
Cler claryoun crak cryed on-lofte.
By þat watȝ alle on a hepe hurlande swyþee,
Folȝande þat oþer flote, & fonde hem bilyue,
Ouer-tok hem, as tyd, tult hem of sadeles,
Tyl vche prynce hade his per put to þe grounde;
& þer watȝ þe kyng kaȝt wyth calde prynces,
& alle hise gentyle for-iusted on Ierico playnes,
& presented wern as presoneres to the prynce rychest,
Nabigo-de-noȝar noble in his chayer,
& he þe faynest freke þat he his fo hade,
& speke spitously hem to & spylt þer-after.
Þe kynges sunnes in his syȝt he slow euer vchone,
& holkked out his auen yȝen heterly boþe
& bede þe burne to be broȝt to Babyloyn þe ryche,
& þere in dongoun be don to dreȝe þer his wyrdes.
Now se, so þe soueray[n] set hatȝ his wrake;
Nas hit not for Nabugo ne his noble nauther,
Þat oþer depryued watȝ of pryde with paynes stronge,
Bot for his beryng so badde agayn his blyþe lorde;
For hade þe fader ben his frende þat hym bifore keped,
Ne neuer trepast to him in teche of mysseleue.
To Colde wer alle Calde & kythes of Ynde,
Ȝet take Torkye hem wyth her tene hade ben little;
Ȝet nolde neuer Nabugo þis ilke note leue,
Er he hade tuyred þis toun & torne hit to grounde;
He ioyned vnto Ierusalem a gentyle duc þenne,
His name watȝ Nabu-ȝardan, to noye þe Iues;
He watȝ mayster of his men & myȝty him seluen,
Þe chef of his cheualrye his chekkes to make,
He brek þe bareres as bylyue, & þe burȝ after,

He enteres in ful ernestly, in yre of his hert.
What! þe maysterry watȝ mene, þe men wern away,
Þe best boȝed wyth þe burne þat þe borȝ ȝemed;
& þo þat byden wer so biten with þe bale hunger,
Þat on wyf hade ben worþe þe welgest fourre;
Nabu-ȝardan noȝt forþy nolde not spare,
Bot bede al to þe bronde vnder bare egge.
Þay slowen of swettest semlych burdes,
Baþed barnes in blod & her brayn spylled;
Prestes & prelates þay presed to deþe,
Wyues & wenches her wombes to-coruen,
Þat her boweles out-borst aboute þe diches,
& al watȝ carfully kylde þat þay cach myȝt,
& alle [þat] swypped vn-swolȝed of þe sworde kene,
Þay wer cagged and kaȝt on capeles al bare,
Festned fettres to her fete vnder fole wombes,
& broþely broȝt to Babyloyn þer bale to suffer,
To sytte in seruage & syte; þat sumtyme wer gentyle,
Now ar chaunged to chorles & charged wyth werkkes,
Boþe to cayre at þe kart & þe kuy mylke,
Þat sumtyme sete in her sale syres & burdes.
& ȝet Nabuȝardan nyl neuer stynt,
Er he to þe tempple tee wyth his tulkkes alle;
Betes on þe barers, brestes vp þe ȝates,
Slouen alle at a slyp þat serued þer-inne,
Pulden prestes by þe polle & plat of her hedes,
Diȝten dekenes to deþe, dungen doun clerkkes,
& alle þe maydenes of þe munster maȝtyly hokyllen
Wyth þe swayf of þe sworde þat swolȝed hem alle.
Þenne ran þay to þe relykes as robbors wylde,
& pyled alle þe apparement þat pented to þe kyrke,
Þe pure pyleres [o]f bras pourtrayd in golde,
& þe chef chaundeler charged with þe lyȝt,
Þat ber þe lamp vpon lofte, þat lemed euer more,
Bifore þ[e] sancta sanctorum þer selcouth watȝ ofte.

Þay caȝt away þat condelestik, & þe crowne als,
Þat þe auter hade vpon, of aþel golde ryche;
Þe gredirne & þe goblotes garnyst of syluer,
Þe bases of þe bryȝt postes & bassynes so schyre;
Dere disches of golde & dubleres fayre,
Þe vyoles & þe vesselment of vertuous stones.
Now hatȝ Nabuȝardan nomen alle þyse noble þynges,
& pyled þat precious place & pakked þose godes;
Þe golde of þe gaȝafylace to swyþe gret noumbre,
Wyth alle þe vrnmentes of þat hous, he hamppred togeder.
Alle he spoyled spytously in a sped whyle,
Þat Salomon so mony a sadde ȝer soȝt to make,
Wyth alle þe coyntyse þat he cowþe clene to wyrke;
Deuised he þe vesselment, þe vestures clene,
Wyth slyȝt of his ciences, his souerayn to loue,
Þe hous & þe anournementes he hyȝtled togeder.
Now hatȝ Nabuȝardan numnend hit al samen,
& syþen bet doun þe burȝ & brend hit in askes;
Þenne wyth legiounes of ledes ouer londes he rydes,
Herȝeȝ of Israel þe hyrne aboute.
Wyth charged chariotes þe cheftayne he fynde[ȝ],
Bikennes þe catel to þe kyng, þat he caȝt hade,
Presented him þe prisoneres in pray þat þay token,
Moni a worþly wyȝe whil her worlde laste,
Moni semly syre soun, & swyþe rych maydenes,
Þe pruddest of þe province, & prophetes childer;
As Ananie & Aȝarie & als Miȝael,
& dere Daniel also, þat watȝ deuine noble,
With moni a modey moder chylde mo þen innoghe.
& Nabu-go-de-noȝar makes much ioye,
Nov he þe kyng hatȝ conquest & þe kyth wunnen,
& dreped alle þe doȝtyest & derrest in armes,
& þe lederes of her lawe layd to þe grounde,

& þe pryce of þe profecie prisoners maked;
Bot þe ioy of þe iuelrye so gentyle & ryche,
When hit watȝ schewed hym so schene, scharp watȝ his wonder,
Of such vessel auayed þat vayled so huge,
Neuer ȝet nas Nabugo-de-noȝar er þenne.
He sesed hem with solemneté, þe souerayn he praysed,
Þat watȝ aþel ouer alle, Israel dryȝtyn;
Such god, such gomes, such gay vesselles
Comen neuer out of kyth, to Caldee reames.
He trussed hem in his tresorye in a tryed place
Rekenly wyth reuerens, as he ryȝt hade;
& þer he wroȝt as þe wyse, as ȝe may wyt here-after,
For hade he let of hem lyȝt, hym moȝt haf lumpen worse.
Þat ryche in gret rialté rengned his lyue,
As conquerour of vche a cost he cayser watȝ hatte,
Emperour of alle þe erþe & also þe saudan,
& als þe god of þe grounde watȝ grauen his name
& al þurȝ dome of Daniel, fro he deuised hade,
Þat alle goudes com of god, & gef hit hym bi samples,
Þat he ful clanly bi-cuv-er his carp bi þe laste,
& ofte hit mekned his mynde, his maysterful werkkes.
Bot al drawes to dyȝe with doel vp[o]n ende;
Bi a haþel neuer so hyȝe he heldes to grounde,
& so Nabugo-de-noȝar as he nedes moste;
For alle his empire so hiȝe in erþe is he grauen.
Bot þenne þe bolde Baltaȝar, þat watȝ his barn aldest,
He watȝ stalled in his stud, & stabled þe rengne;
In þe burȝ of Babiloyne þe biggest he trawed,
Þat nawþer in heuen ne no erþe hade no pere;
For he bigan in alle þe glori þat hym þe gome lafte,
Nabugo-de-nozar, þat watȝ his noble fader;
So kene a kyng in Caldee com neuer er þenne.

Bot honoured he not hym þat in heuen wonies,
Bot fals fantummes of fendes, formed with handes
Wyth tool out of harde tre, & telded on lofte,
& of stokkes & stones, he stoute goddes callȝ
When þay ar gilde al with golde & gered wyth syluer,
& þere he kneles & calleȝ, & clepes after help.
& þay reden him ryȝt, rewarde he hem hetes,
& if þay gruchen him his grace to gremen his hert,
He cleches to a gret klubbe & knokkes hem to peces;
Þus in pryde & olipraunce his empyre he haldes,
In lust & in lecherye, & loþelych werkkes;
& hade a wyf for to welde, a worþelych quene,
& mony a lemman, neuer þe later, þat ladis wer called.
In þe clernes of his concubines & curious wedeȝ,
In notyng of nwe metes & of nice gettes,
Al watȝ þe mynde of þat man, on misschapen þinges,
Til þe lorde of þe lyfte liste hit abate.

XIII.

Thenne þis bolde Baltaȝar biþenkkes hym ones,
To vouche on a vayment of his vaine g[l]orie;
Hit is not innoghe to þe nice al noȝty þink vse,
Bot-if alle þe worlde wyt his wykked dedes.
Baltaȝar þurȝ Babiloyn his banne gart crye,
& þurȝ þe cuntre of Caldee his callyng con spryng,
Þat alle þe grete vpon grounde schulde geder hem samen
& assemble at a set day at þe Saudans fest.
Such a mangerie to make þe man watȝ auised,
Þat vche a kythyn kyng schuld com þider;
Vche duk wyth his duthe & oþer dere lordes,
Schulde com to his court to kyþe hym for lege,
& to reche hym reuerens & his reuel herkken;
To loke on his lemanes & ladis hem calle,
To rose hym in his rialty rych men soȝtten,
& mony a baroun ful bolde, to Babyloyn þe noble.

Þer bowed toward Babyloyn burnes so mony,
Kynges, cayseres ful kene, to þe court wonnen,
Mony ludisch lordes þat ladies broȝten,
Þat to neuen þe noumbre to much nye were.
For þe bourȝ watȝ so brod & so bigge alce,
Stalled in þe fayrest stud the sterreȝ an-vnder,
Prudly on a plat playn, plek alþer-fayrest,
Vmbe-sweyed on vch a syde with seuen gret wateres,
With a wonder wroȝt walle wruxeled ful hiȝe,
With koynt carneles aboue, coruen ful clene,
Troched toures bitwene twenty spere lenþe,
& þiker þrowen vmbe þour-with ouer-þwert palle.
Þe place, þat plyed þe pursaunt wythinne,
Watȝ longe & ful large & euer ilych sware,
& vch a syde vpon soyle helde seuen myle,
& þe saudans sete sette in þe myddes;
Þat watȝ a palayce of pryde passande alle oþer,
Boþe of werk & of wunder & walle al aboute;
Heȝe houses withinne þe halle to hit med,
So brod bilde in a bay, þat blonkkes moȝt renne.
When þe terme of þe tyde watȝ to vsched of þe feste,
Dere droȝen þer-to & vpon des metten,
& Baltaȝar vpon bench watȝ busked to sete,
Stepe stayred stones of his stoute throne.
Þenne watȝ alle þe halle flor hiled with knyȝtes,
& barounes at þe side-bordes bounet ay-where,
For non watȝ dressed vpon dece bot þe dere seluen,
& his clere concubynes in cloþes ful bryȝt.
When alle segges were þer set, þen seruyse bygynnes,
Sturnen trumpen strake steuen in halle,
Aywhere by þe wowes wrasten krakkes,
& brode baneres þer-bi blusnande of gold;
Burnes berande þe þe bredes vpon brode skeles,
Þat were of sylueren syȝt & seerved þer-wyth,

Lyfte logges þer-ouer & on lofte coruen,
Pared out of paper & poynted of glolde,
Broþe baboynes abof, besttes an vnder,
Foles in foler flakerande bitwene,
& al in asure & ynde enaumayld ryche,
& al on blonkken bak bere hit on honde.
& ay þe nakeryn noyse, notes of pipes,
Tymbres & tabornes, tulket among,
Symbales & soneteȝ sware þe noyse,
& bougounȝ busch batered so þikke;
So was serued fele syþe þe sale alle aboutte,
With solace at þe sere course, bifore þe self lord,
Þer þe lede & alle his loue lenged at þe table.
So faste þay weȝed to hym wyne, hit warmed his hert
& breyþed vppe in to his brayn & blemyst his mynde,
& al waykned his wyt, & wel neȝe he foles,
For he wayteȝ on-wyde, his wenches he byholdes,
& his bolde baronage, aboute bi þe woȝes;
Þenne a dotage ful depe drof to his hert,
& a caytif counsayl he caȝt bi hym seluen.
Maynly his marschal þe mayster vpon calles,
& comaundes hym cofly coferes to lance,
& fech forþe vessel þat his fader broȝt
Nabugo-de-nozar, noble in his strenþe,
Conquerd with his knyȝtes & of kyrk rafte
In Iude, in Ierusalem in gentyle wyse:
“Bryng hem now to my borde, of beuerage hem fylles,
Let þise ladyes of hem lape, I luf hem in hert;
Þat schal I cortaysly kyþe & þay schin knawe sone,
Þer is no bounté in burne lyk Baltaȝar þewes.”
Þenne towched to þe tresour þis tale watȝ sone,
& he with keyes vncloses kystes ful mony;
Mony burþen ful bryȝt watȝ broȝt in-to halle,
& couered mony a cup-borde with cloþes ful quite.

Þe iueles out of Ierusalem with gemmes ful bryȝt,
Bi þe syde of þe sale were semely arayed;
Þe aþel auter of brasse watȝ hade in-to place,
Þe gay coroun of golde gered on lofte,
Þat hade ben blessed bifore wyth bischopes hondes
& wyth besten blod busily anoynted,
In þe solempne sacrefyce þat goud sauor hade,
Bifore þe lorde of þe lyfte in louyng hym seluen,
Now is sette for to serue satanas þe blake,
Bifore þe bolde Baltazar wyth bost & wyth pryde.
Houen vpon þis auter watȝ aþel vessel,
Þat wyth so curious a crafte coruen watȝ wyly;
Salamon sete him seuen ȝere & a syþe more,
With alle þe syence þat sende þe souerayn lorde,
For to compas & kest to haf hem clene wroȝt;
For þer wer bassynes ful bryȝt of brende golde clere,
Enaumaylde with aȝer & eweres of sute;
Couered cowpes foul clene, as casteles arayed,
Enbaned vnder batelment with bantelles quoynt,
& fyled out of fygures of ferlyle schappes.
Þe coperounes of þe canacles þat on þe cuppe reres,
Wer fetysely formed out in fylyoles longe;
Pinnacles pyȝt þer apert þat profert bitwene,
& al bolled abof with braunches & leues,
Pyes & papeiays purtrayed with-inne,
As þay prudly hade piked of pom-garnades;
For alle þe blomes of þe boȝes were blyknande perles
& alle þe fruyt in þo formes of flaum-beande gemmes,
And safyres, & sardiners, & semely topace,
Alabaunderrynes, & amaraunȝ & amaffised stones,
Casydoynes, & crysolytes, & clere rubies,
Penitotes, & pynkardines, ay perles bitwene,
So trayled & tryfled a traverce wer alle,
Bi vche bekyrande þe bolde, þe brurdes al vmbe;

Þe gobelotes of golde grauen aboute,
& fyoles fretted with flores & fleeȝ of golde,
Vpon þat avter watȝ al aliche dresset.
Þe candelstik bi a cost watȝ cayred þider sone,
Vpon þe pyleres apyked þat praysed hit mony,
Vpon hit baseȝ of brasse þat ber vp þe werkes,
Þe boȝes bryȝt þer abof, brayden of golde,
Braunches bredande þer-on, & bryddes þer seten
Of mony kyndes, of fele-kyn hues,
As þay with wynge vpon wynde hade waged herfyþeres,
In-mong þe leues of þe lampes wer grayþed;
& oþer louelych lyȝt þat lemed ful fayre,
As mony morteres of wax merkked with-oute,
With mony a borlych best al of brende golde.
Hit watȝ not wonte in þat wone to wast no serges,
Bot in temple of þe trauþe trwly to stonde;
Bifore þe sancta sanctorum soþefast dryȝtyn,
Expouned his speche specually to special prophetes.
Leue þou wel þat þe lorde þat þe lyfte ȝemes
Displesed much, at þat play in þat plyt stronge,
Þat his iueles so gent wyth iaueles wer fouled,
Þat presyous in his presens wer proued sum whyle.
Soberly in his sacrafyce summe wer anoynted,
Þurȝ þe somones of him selfe þat syttes so hyȝe;
Now a boster on benche bibbes þer-of
Tyl he be dronkken as the deuel, & dotes þer he syttes;
So þe worcher of þis worlde wlates þer-wyth,
Þat in þe poynt of her play he poruayes a mynde;
Bot er harme hem he wolde in haste of his yre,
He wayned hem a warnyng þat wonder hem þoȝt.
Nov is alle þis guere geten glotounes to serue,
Stad in a ryche stal & starred ful bryȝtȝ,
Baltaȝar in a brayd bede vus þer-of.
“Weȝe wyn in þis won, wassayl!” he cryes.

Swyfte swaynes ful swyþe swepen þer-tylle,
Kyppe kowpes in honde kyngeȝ to serue,
In bryȝt bolleȝ, ful bayn birlen þise oþer,
& vche mon for his mayster machches alone.
Þer watȝ rynging, on ryȝt, of ryche metalles,
Quen renkkes in þat ryche rok rennen hit to cache,
Clatering of conacles þat kesten þo burdes,
As sonet out of sau[t]eray songe als myry.
& þenne þe dotel on dece drank þat he myȝt,
& þenne arn dressed dukeȝ & prynces,
Concubines & knyȝtes, bicause of þat merthe;
As vchon hade hym in helde he haled of þe cuppe,
So long likked þise lordes þise lykores swete,
& gloryed on her falce goddes & her grace calles,
Þat were of stokkes & stones, stille euer more;
Neuer steuen hem a-stel, so stoken is hor tonge,
Alle þe goude golden goddes þe gauleȝ ȝet neuenen,
Belfagor & belyal & belssabub als,
Heyred hem as hyȝly as heuen wer þayres,
Bot hym þat alle goudes giues, þat god þay forȝeten,
For þer a ferly bifel þat fele folk seȝen;
Fyrst knew hit þe kyng & alle þe cort after,
In þe palays pryncipale vpon þe playn wowe,
In contrary of þe candelstik þat clerest hit schyned.
Þer apered a paume, with poyntel in fyngres
Þat watȝ grysly & gret, & grymly he wrytes,
Non oþer forme bot a fust faylaynde þe wryst,
Pared on þe parget, purtrayed lettres.
When þat bolde Baltaȝar blusched to þat neue,
Such a dasande drede dusched to his hert,
Þat al falewed his face & fayled þe chere;
Þe stronge strok of þe stonde strayned his ioyntes,
His cnes cachcheȝ to close & cluchches his hommes,
& he with plat-tyng his paumes displayes his lers,

& romyes as a rad ryth þat roreȝ for drede,
Ay biholdand þe honde til hit hade al grauen,
& rasped on þe roȝ woȝe runisch saueȝ.
When hit þe scrypture hade scraped wyth a strof penne,
As a coltour in clay cerues þo forȝes,
Þenne hit vanist verayly & voyded of syȝt,
Bot þe lettres bileued ful large vpon plaster.
Sone so þe kynge for his care carping myȝt wynne,
He bede his burnes boȝ to þat were bok lered,
To wayte þe wryt þat hit wolde & wyter hym to say,
“For al hit frayes my flesche þe fyngres so grymme.”
Scoleres skelten þer-atte þe skyl for to fynde,
But þer watȝ neuer on so wyse couþe on worde rede,
Ne what ledisch lore ne langage nauþer
What tyþyng ne tale tokened þo draȝtes.
Þenne þe bolde Baltaȝar bred ner wode.
& ede þe Ceté to seche segges þurȝ-oute,
Þat wer wyse of wyche-crafte & warlaȝes oþer,
Þat con dele wyth demerlayk, & deuine lettres:
“Calle hem alle to my cort þo calde clerkkes,
Vnfolde hem alle þis ferly þat is bifallen here,
& calle wyth a hiȝe cry; ‘he þat þe kyng wysses,
In expounyng of speche þat spredes in þise lettres,
& make þe mater to malt my mynde wythinne,
Þat I may wyterly wyt what þat wryt menes,
He schal be gered ful gaye in gounes of porpre,
& a coler of cler golde clos vmbe his þrote;
He schal be prymate & prynce of pure clergye,
& of my þreuenest lordeȝ þe þrydde he schal
& of my reme þe rychest to ryde wyth myseluen,
Out-taken bare two & þenne he þe þrydde.’”
Þis cry watȝ vp-caste, & þer comen mony
Clerkes out of Caldye þat kennest wer knauen,

As þe sage sathrapas þat sorsory couþe;
Wycheȝ & walkyries wonnen to þat sale,
Deuinores of demorlaykes þat dremes cowþe rede,
Sorsers & exorsismus & fele such clerkes;
& alle þat loked on þat letter as lewed þay were,
As þay had loked in þe leþer of my lyfte bote.
Þenne cryes þe kyng & kerues his wedes;
What! he corsed his clerkes & calde hem chorles,
To henge þe harlotes he heȝed ful ofte,
So watȝ þe wyȝe wytles, he wed wel ner.
Ho herde hym chyde to þe chambre þat watȝ þe chef quene;
When ho watȝ wytered bi wyȝes what watȝ þe cause,
Suche a chaungande chaunce in þe chef halle,
Þe lady to lauce þat los þat þe lorde hade,
Glydes doun by þe grece & gos to þe kyng;
Ho kneles on þe colde erþe & carpes to hym seluen,
Wordes of worchyp wyth a wys speche.
“Kene kyng,” quoth þe quene, “kayser of vrþe,
Euer laste þy lyf in lenþe of dayes!
Why hatȝ þou rended þy robe for-redles here-inne,
Þaȝ þose ledes ben lewed lettres to rede,
& hatȝ a haþel in þy holde, as I haf herde ofte,
Þat hatȝ þe gostes of god þat gyes alle soþes;
His sawle is ful of syence, saȝes to schawe,
To open vch a hide þyng of aunteres vncowþe;
Þat is he þat ful ofte hatȝ heuened þy fader
Of mony anger ful hote with his holy speche.
When Nabugo-de-noȝar watȝ nyed in stoundes,
He de-vysed his dremes to þe dere trawþe,
He keuered hym with his counsayl of caytyf wyrdes;
Alle þat he spured hym in space he expowned clene,
Þurȝ þe sped of þe spyryt þat sprad hym with-inne,
Of þe godelest goddeȝ þat gaynes ay-where.
For his depe diuinité & his dere sawes,

Þy bolde fader Baltaȝar bede by his name,
Þat now is demed Danyel of derne coninges,
Þat caȝt watȝ in þe captyuidé in cuntre of Iues;
Nabuȝardan hym nome & now is he here,
A prophete of þat prouince & pryce of þe worlde.
Sende in-to þe cete to seche hym bylyue,
& wynne hym with þe worchyp to wayne þe bote,
& þaȝ þe mater be merk þat merked is ȝender,
He shal de-clar hit also, as hit on clay stande.”
Þat gode counseyl at þe quene watȝ cached as as swyþe,
Þe burne byfore Baltaȝar watȝ broȝt in a whyle,
When he com bifore þe kyng & clanly had halsed,
Baltaȝar vmbe-brayde hym & “leue Syr,” he sayde,
“Hit is tolde me bi tulkes, þat þou trwe were
Profete of þat prouynce þat prayed my fader,
Ande þat þou hatȝ in þy hert holy connyng
Of sapyence þi sawle ful soþes to schawe;
Goddes gost is þe geuen þat gyes alle þynges,
& þou vnhyles vch hidde þat heuen kyng myntes;
& here is a ferly byfallen, & I fayn wolde
Wyt þe wytte of þe wryt, þat on þe wowe clyues,
For alle calde clerkes han cowwardely fayled;
If þou with quayntyse conquere hit, I quyte þe þy mede.
For if þou redes hit by ryȝt & hit to resoun brynges,
Fyrst telle me þe tyxte of þe tede lettres,
& syþen þe mater of þe mode, mene me þer-after,
& I schal halde þe þe hest þat I þe hyȝt haue;
Apyke þe in porpre cloþe, palle alþer-fynest,
& þe byȝe of bryȝt golde abowte þyn nekke,
& þe þryd þryuenest þat þrynges me after,
Þou schal be baroun vpon benche, bede I þe no lasse.”
Derfly þenne Danyel deles þyse wordes:
“Ryche kyng of þis rengne rede þe oure lorde,
Hit is surely soþe, þe souerayn of heuen
Fylsened euer þy fader & vpon folde cheryched,

Gart hym grattest to be of gouernores alle,
& alle þe worlde in his wylle welde as hym lykes.
Who-so wolde wel do, wel hym bityde,
& quos deth so he deȝyre he dreped als faste;
Who-so hym lyked to lyfte, on lofte watȝ he sone,
& quo-so hym lyked to lay, watȝ loȝed bylyue.
So watȝ noted þe note of Nabugo-de-noȝar,
Styfly stabled þe rengne bi þe stronge dryȝtyn,
For of þe hyȝest he hade a hope in his hert,
Þat vche pouer past out of þat prynce euen;
& whyle þat watȝ cleȝt clos in his hert,
Þere watȝ no mon vpon molde of myȝt as hym seluen,
Til it bitide on a tyme, towched hym pryde
For his lordeschyp so large, & his lyf ryche;
He hade so huge an insyȝt to his aune dedes,
Þat þe power of þe hyȝe prynce he purely forȝetes.
Þenne blynnes he not of blasfemy on to blame þe dryȝtyn,
His myȝt mete to goddes he made with his wordes:
“I am God of þe grounde, to gye as me lykes,
As he þat hyȝe is in heuen his aungels þat weldes;
If he hatȝ formed þe folde & folk þer vpone,
I haf bigged Babiloyne, burȝ alþer-rychest,
Stabled þer-inne vche a ston in strenkþe of myn armes,
Moȝt neuer myȝt bot myn make such anoþer.”
Watȝ not þis ilke worde wonnen of his mowþe one,
Er þenne þe souerayn saȝe souned in his eres,
“Now Nabugo-de-noȝar innoȝe hatȝ spoken,
Now is alle þy pryncipalté past at ones,
& þou, remued fro monnes sunnes, on mor most abide,
& in wasterne walk & wyth þe wylde dowelle,
As best, byte on þe bent of braken & erbes,
With wroþe wolfes to won & wyth wylde asses.”
In mydde þe poynt of his pryde departed he þere,
Fro þe soly of his solempneté, his solace he leues,
& carfully is out-kast to contré vnknawen,
Fer into a fyr fryth þere frekes neuer comen.

His hert heldet vnhole, he hoped non oþer
Bot a best þat he be, a bol oþer an oxe.
He fares forth on alle faure, fogge watȝ his mete,
& ete ay as a horce when erbes were fallen,
Þus he countes hym a kow, þat watȝ a kyng ryche,
Quyle seuen syþeȝ were ouer-seyed someres I trawe.
By þat, mony þik þyȝe þryȝt vmbe his lyre,
Þat alle watȝ dubbed and dyȝt in þe dew of heuen;
Faxe fyltered, & felt flosed hym vmbe,
Þat schad fro his schulderes to his schyre wykes,
& twenty-folde twynande hit to his tos raȝt
Þer mony clyuy as clyde hit clyȝt togeder.
His berde I-brad alle his breste to þe bare vrþe,
His browes bresed as breres aboute his brode chekes;
Holȝe were his yȝen & vnder campe hores,
& al watȝ gray as þe glede, with ful grymme clawres
Þat were croked and kene as þe kyte panne;
Erne hwed he watȝ & al ouer-brawden,
Til he wyst ful wel who wroȝt alle myȝtes,
& cowþe vche kyndam to-kerue & keuer when hym lyked;
Þenne he wayned hym his wyt þat hade wo soffered,
Þat he com to knawlach & kenned hym seluen,
Þenne he laued þat lorde & leued in trawþe,
Hit watȝ non oþer þen he þat hade al in honde.
Þenne sone watȝ he sende agayn, his sete restored;
His barounes boȝed hym to, blyþe of his come,
Haȝerly in his aune hwe his heued was couered,
& so ȝeply watȝ ȝarked & ȝolden his state.
Bot þou Baltaȝar his barne & his bolde ayre,
Seȝ þese syngnes with syȝt & set hem at lyttel,
Bot ay hatȝ hofen þy hert agaynes þe hyȝe dryȝtyn,
With bobaunce & with blasfamye bost at hym kest,
& now his vessayles avyled in vanyté vnclene,
Þat in his hows hym to honour were heuened of fyrst;

Bifore þe barounȝ hatȝ hom broȝt, & byrled þerinne
Wale wyne to þy wenches in waryed stoundes;
Bifore þy borde hatȝ þou broȝt beuerage in þede,
Þat blyþely were fyrst blest with bischopes hondes,
Louande þer-on lese goddeȝ, þat lyf haden neuer,
Made of stokkes & stoneȝ þat neuer styry moȝt.
& for þat froþande fylþe, þe fader of heuen
Hatȝ sende, hatȝ sende in-to þis sale þise syȝtes vncowþe,
Þe fyste with þe fyngeres þat flayed þi hert,
Þat rasped renyschly þe woȝe with þe roȝ penne.
Þise ar þe wordes here wryten with-oute werk more,
By vch fygure, as I fynde, as oure fader lykes.
“Mane, Techal, Phareȝ, merked in þrynne,
Þat þretes þe of þyn vnþryfte vpon þre wyse;
Now expowne þe þis speche spedly I þenk.
Mane menes als-much-as, maynful Gode
Hatȝ counted þy kyndam bi a clene noumbre,
& ful-fylled hit in fayth to þe fyrre ende.
To teche þe of Techal, þat terme þus menes,
Þy wale rengne is walt in weȝtes to heng,
& is funde ful fewe of hit fayth dedes.
& Phareȝ folȝes for þose fawtes to frayst þe trawþe,
In Phareȝ fynde I forsoþe þise felle saȝes;
De-parted is þy pryncipalté, depryued þou worþes,
Þy rengne rafte is þe fro, & raȝt is þe Perses,
Þe Medes schal be maysteres here, & þou of menske schowued.”
Þe kyng comaunded anon to cleþe þat wyse,
In frokkes of fyn cloþ, as forward hit asked;
Þenne sone watȝ Danyel dubbed in ful dere porpor
& a cloler of cler golde kest vmbe his swyre.
Þen watȝ demed a de-cre bi þe duk seluen,
Bolde Baltaȝa[r] bed þat hym bowe schulde
Þe comynes alof called þat to þe kyng longed,

As to þe prynce pryuyest preued þe þrydde,
Heȝest of alle oþer, saf onelych tweyne,
To boȝ after Baltaȝar in borȝe & in felde.
Þys watȝ cryed & knawen in cort als fast,
& alle þe folk þer-of fayn þat folȝed hym tylle;
Bot how-so Danyel watȝ dyȝt, þat day ouer-ȝede,
Nyȝt neȝed ryȝt now with nyes fol mony,
For daȝed neuer an-oþer day þat ilk derk after,
Er dalt were þat ilk dome þat Danyel deuysed.
Þe solace of þe solempneté in þat sale dured
Of þat farand fest, tyl fayled þe sunne;
Þenne blykned þe ble of þe bryȝt skwes,
Mourkenes þe mery weder, & þe myst dryues
Þorȝ þe lyst of þe lyfte, bi þe loȝ medoes;
Vche haþel to his home hyȝes ful fast,
Seten at her soper & songen þer-after,
Þen foundeȝ vch a felaȝschyp fyrre at forþ naȝtes.
Baltaȝar to his bedd with blysse watȝ caryed,
Reche þe rest as hym lyst, he ros neuer þer-after;
For his foes in þe felde in-flokkes ful grete
Þat longe hade layted þat lede his londes to strye,
Now are þay sodenly assembled at þe self tyme,
Of hem wyst no wyȝe þat in þat won dowelled.
Hit watȝ þe dere Daryus þe duk of þise Medes,
Þe prowde prynce of Perce & porros of Ynde,
With mony a legioun ful large, with ledes of armes,
Þat now hatȝ spyed a space to spoyle Caldeeȝ.
Þay þrongen þeder in þe þester on þrawen hepes,
Asscaped ouer þe skyre watteres & scaþed þe walles,
Lyfte laddres ful longe & vpon lofte wonen,
Stelen stylly þe toun er any steuen rysed,
Withinne an oure of þe nyȝt an entré þay hade;
Ȝet afrayed þay no freke, fyrre þay passen
& to þe palays pryncipal þay aproched ful stylle;

Þenne ran þay in on a res, on rowtes ful grete,
Blastes out of bryȝt brasse brestes so hyȝe,
Ascry scarred on þe scue þat scomfyted mony.
Segges slepande were slayne er þay slyppe myȝt,
Vche hous heyred watȝ, withinne a honde-whyle;
Baltaȝar in his bed watȝ beten to deþe,
Þat boþe his blod & his brayn blende on þe cloþes;
Þe kyng in his cortyn watȝ kaȝt by þe heles,
Feryed out bi þe fete & fowle dispysed;
Þat watȝ so doȝty þat day & drank of þe vessayl,
Now is a dogge also dere þat in a dych lygges;
For þe mayster of þyse Medes on þe morne ryses,
Dere Daryous þat day dyȝt vpon trone,
Þat cete seses ful sounde, & saȝtlyng makes
Wyth alle þe barounȝ þer aboute, þat bowed hym after.
& þus watȝ þat londe lost for þe lordes synne,
& þe fylþe of þe freke þat defowled hade
Þe ornementes of goddeȝ hous þat holy were maked;
He watȝ corsed for his vnclannes, & cached þer-inne,
Done doun of his dyngneté for dedeȝ vnfayre,
& of þyse worldes worchyp wrast out for euer,
& ȝet of lykynges on lofte letted, I trowe,
To loke on oure lofly lorde late bitydes.
Þus vpon þrynne wyses I haf yow þro schewed,
Þat vnclannes to cleues in corage dere
Of þat wynnelych lorde þat wonyes in heuen,
Entyses hym to be tene, telled vp his wrake;
Ande clannes is his comfort, and coyntyse he louyes,
& þose þat seme arn & swete schyn se his face.
Þat we gon gay in oure gere þat grace he vus sende,
Þat we may serue in his syȝt, þer solace neuer blynneȝ.

Amen.

PATIENCE.

I.

Pacience is a poynt, þaȝ hit displease ofte,
When heuy herttes ben hurt wyth heþyng oþer elles,
Suffraunce may aswagen hem & þe swelme leþe,
For ho quelles vche a qued, & quenches malyce;
For quo-so suffer cowþe syt, sele wolde folȝe,
& quo for þro may noȝt þole, þe þikker he sufferes;
Þen is better ot abyde þe bur vmbe-stoundes,
Þen ay þrow forth my þro, þaȝ me þynk ylle.
I herde on a halyday at a hyȝe masse,
Howw mathew melede, þat hiw mayster his meyny con teche,
Aȝt happes he hem hyȝt & vche on a mede,
Sunderlupes for hit dissert vpon a ser wyse:
Thay arn hapen þat han in hert pouerté,
For hores is þe heuen-ryche to holde for euer;
Þay ar happen also þat haunte mekenesse,
For þay schal welde þis worlde & alle her wylle haue;
Thay ar happen also þat for her harme wepes,
For þay schal comfort encroche in kythes ful mony;
Þay ar happen also þat hungeres after ryȝt,
For þay schal frely be refete ful of alle gode;
Thay ar happen also þat han in hert rauþe,
For mercy in alle maneres her mede schal worþe;
Þay ar happen also þat arn of hert clene,
For þay her sauyour in sete schal se with her yȝen;

Thay ar happen also þat halden her pese,
For þay þe gracious godes sunes schal godly be called;
Þay ar happen also þat con her hert stere,
For hores is þe heuen-ryche, as I er sayde.
These arn þe happes alle aȝt þat vus bihyȝt weren,
If we þyse ladyes wolde lof in lyknyng of þewes;
Dame pouert, Dame pitee, Dame penaunce þe þrydde,
Dame Mekenesse, Dame mercy & Miry clanesse,
& þenne Dame þes & pacyance prt in þer-after.
He were happen þat hade one, alle were þe better,
Bot syn I am put to a poynt þat pouerte hatte,
I schal me poruay pacyence, & play me with boþe;
For in þe tyxte, þere þyse two arn in teme layde,
Hit arn fettled in on forme, þe forme & þe laste,
& by quest of her quoyntyse enquylen on mede,
& als in myn vpnyoun hit arn of on kynde;
For þer as pouert hir proferes ho nyl be put vtter,
Bot lenge where-so-euer hir lyst oþer greme,
& þere as pouert enpresses, þaȝ mon pyne þynk,
Much maugre his mun, he mot nede suffer,
Thus pouerte & pacyence arn nedes play-feres.
Syþhen I am sette with hem samen, suffer me by-houes,
Þenne is me lyȝtloker hit lyke & her lotes prayse,
Þenne wyþer wyth & be wroth & þe wers haue.
Ȝif me be dyȝt a destyne due to haue,
What dowes me þe dedayn, oþer dispit make?
Oþer ȝif my lege lorde lyst on lyue me to bidde,
Oþer to ryde, oþer ot renne, to rome in his ernde,
What grayþed me þe grychchyng bot grame more seche?
Much ȝif he me ne made, maugref my chekes,
& þenne þrat moste I þole, & vnþonk to mede,
Þe[t] had bowed to his bode, bongre my hyure.
Did not Ionas in Iude suche Iape sum-whyle,
To sette hym to sewrte, vnsounde he hym feches?
Wyl ȝe tary a lyttel tyme & tent me a whyle,
I schal wysse yow þer-wyth as holy wryt telles.

II.

Hit bi-tydde sum-tyme in þe termes of Iude,
Ionas ioyned watȝ þer-inne ientyle prophete;
Goddes glam to hym glod, þat hym vnglad made,
With a roghlych rurd rowned in his ere;
“Rys radly,” he says,“& rayke forth euen,
Nym þe way to nynyue, wyth-outen oþer speche,
& in þat cete my saȝes soghe alle aboute,
Þat, in þat place at þe poynt, I put in þi hert;
For I wysse hit arn so wykke þat in þat won dowelleȝ,
& her malys is so much I may not abide,
Bot venge me on her vilanye & venym bilyue;
Now sweȝe me þider swyftly & say me þis arende.”
When þat steuen watȝ stynt, þat stowned his mynde,
Al he wrathed in his wyt & wyperly he þoȝt,
If I bowe to his bode & bryng hem þis tale,
& I be Nummen in Nuniue, my nyes begynes;
He telles me þose traytoures arn typped schrewes,
I com wyth þose tyþynges, þay ta me bylyue,
Pyneȝ me in a prysoun, put me in stokkes,
Wryþe me in a warlok, wrast out myn yȝen.
Þis is a meruayl message a man for to preche,
Amonge enmyes so mony & mansed fendes;
Bot if my gaynlych god such gref to me wolde,
For desert of sum sake þat I slayn were,
At alle peryles, quod þe prophete, I aproche hit no nerre,
I wyl me sum oþer waye, þat he ne wayte after;
I schal tee in-to taree, & tary þere a whyle,
& lyȝtly, when I am lest, he letes me alone.
Þenne he ryses radly, & raykes bilyue
Ionas toward port Iaph, ay Ianglande for tene,
Þat he nolde þole, for no-þyng, non of þose pynes,
Þaȝ þe fader þat hym formed were fale of his hele.
“Ouro syro syttes,” he says, “on sege so hyȝe
In his g[l]wande glorye, & gloumbes ful lyttel,

Þaȝ I be nummen in nuniue & naked dispoyled,
On rode rwyly to-rent, with rybaudes mony.”
Þus he passes to þat port, his passage to seche,
Fyndes he a fayr schyp to þe fare redy;
Maches hym with þe maryneres, makes her paye,
For to towe hym in-to tarce, as tyd as þay myȝt.
Then he tron on þo tres & þay her tramme ruchen,
Cachen vp þe crossayl, cables þay fasten,
Wiȝt at þe wyndas weȝen her ankres,
Sprude spak to þe sprete þe spare bawe-lyne
Gederen to þe gyde ropes, þe grete cloþ falles;
Þay layden in on ladde-borde & þe lofe wynnes.
Þe blyþe breþe at her bak þe bosum he fyndes,
He swenges me þys swete schip swefte fro þe hauen.
Watȝ neuer so Ioyful a Iue, as Ionas watȝ þenne,
Þat þe daunger of dryȝtyn so derfly ascaped;
He wende wel þat þat wyȝ þat al þe world planted,
Hade no maȝt in þat mere no man forto greue.
Lo! þe wytles wrechche, for he wolde noȝt suffer,
Now hatȝ he put hym in plyt of peril wel more;
Hit watȝ a wenyng vn-war þat welt in his mynde,
Þaȝ he were soȝt fro samarye þat god seȝ no fyrre,
Ȝise he blusched ful brode, þat burde hym by sure,
Þat ofte kyd hym þe carpe þat kyng sayde,
Dynge dauid on des, þat demed þis speche,
In a psalme þat he set þe sauter with-inne;
O Foleȝ in folk fereȝ oþer whyle,
& vndersondes vmbe-stounde, þaȝ he be stape fole,
Hope ȝe þat he heres not þat eres alle made?
Hit may not be þat he is blynde þat bigged vche yȝe.
Bot he dredes no dynt þat dotes for elde,
For he watȝ fer in þe flod foundande to tarce;
Bot, I trow, ful tyd, ouer-tan þat he were,
So þat schomely to schort he schote of his ame.
For þe welder of wyt, þat wot alle þynges,
Þat ay wakes & waytes, at wylle hatȝ he slyȝtes;

He calde on þat ilk crafte he carf with his hondes,
Þay wakened wel þe wroþeloker, for wroþely he cleped:
“Erwus & aquiloun, þat on est sittes,
Blowes boþe at my bode vpon blo watteres.”
Þenne watȝ no tom þer bytwene his tale & her dede,
So bayn wer þay boþe two, his bone for to wyrk.
An-on out of þe norþ est þe noys bigynes,
When boþe breþes con blowe vpon blo watteres;
Roȝ rakkes þer ros with rudnyng an-vnder,
Þe see souȝed ful sore, gret selly to here;
Þe wyndes on þe wonne water so wrastel to-geder,
Þat þe wawes ful wode waltered so hiȝe,
& efte busched to þe abyme þat breed fysches;
Durst nowhere for roȝ arest at þe bothem.
When þe breth & þe brok & þe bote metten,
Hit watȝ a ioyles gyn þat Ionas watȝ inne,
For hit reled on roun[d] vpon þe roȝe yþes.
Þe bur ber to hit baft þat braste alle her gere,
Þen hurled on a hepe þe helme & þe sterne,
Furst to murte mony rop & þe mast after.
Þe sayl sweyed on þe see, þenne suppe bihoued
Þe coge of þe colde water, & þenne þe cry ryses;
Ȝet coruen þay þe cordes & kest al þer-oute.
Mony ladde þer forth-lep to laue & kest,
Scopen out þe scalpel water, þat fayn scape wolde;
For be monnes lode neuer so luþer, þe lyf is ay swete.
Þer watȝ busy ouer-borde bale to kest
Her bagges, & her feþer beddes, & bryst wedes,
Her kysttes, & her coferes, here caraldes alle,
& al to lyȝten þat lome, ȝif leþe wolde schape;
Bot eyer watȝ ilyche loud þe lot of þe wyndes,
& euer wroþer þe water, & wodder þe stremes.
Þen þo wery for-wroȝt wyst no bote,
Bot vehon glewed on his god þat gayned hym beste;
Summe to vernagu þer vouched a-vowes solemne,
Summe to diana deuout, & derf nepturne,

To mahoun & to mergot, þe mone & þe sunne,
& vehe lede as he loued & layde had his hert.
Þenne bispeke þe spakest dispayred wil nere:
I leue here be sum losynger, sum lawles wrech,
Þat hatȝ greued his god & gotȝ here amonge vus;
Lo al synkes in his synne & for his sake marres!
I lovne þat we lay lotes on ledes vchone,
& who-so lympes þe losse, lay hym þer-oute;
& quen þe gulty is gon what may gome trawe,
Bot he þat rules þe rak may rwe on þose oþer?
Þis watȝ sette in asent, & sembled þay were,
Herȝed out of vche hyrne to hent þat falles.
A lodes-mon lyȝtly lep vnder hachches,
For to layte mogledes & hem to lote bryng,
Bot hym fayled no freke þat he fynde myȝt,
Saf Ionas þe Iwe þat Iowked in derne.
He watȝ flowen for ferde of þe flode lotes
In-to þe boþem of þe bot, & on a brede lyggede,
On helde by þe hurrok, for þe heuen wrache,
Slypped vpon a sloumbe, selepe, & sloberande he routes.
Þe freke hym frunt with his fot & bede hym ferk vp,
Þer ragnel in his rakentes hym rere of his dremes;
Bi þe haspede he hentes hym þenne,
& broȝt hym vp by þe brest & vpon borde sette,
Arayned hym ful runyschly what raysoun he hade
In such slaȝtes of sorȝe to slepe so faste;
Sone haf þay her sortes sette & serelych deled,
& ay þe lote, vpon laste, lymped on Ionas.
Þenne ascryed þay hym sekete, & asked ful loude,
“What þe deuel hatȝ þou don, doted wrech?
What seches þoue on see, synful schrewe,
With þy lastes so luþer to lose vus vchone?
Hatȝ þou, gome, no gouernour ne god on to calle,
Þat þou þus slydes on slepe when þou slayn worþes?
Of what londe art þou lent, what laytes þou here
Whyder in worlde þat þou wylt, & what is þyn arnde?

Lo þy dom is dyȝt, for þy dedes ille!
Do gyf glory to þy godde, er þou glyde hens.”
“I am an Ebru,” quod he, “of Israyl borne;
Þat wyȝe I worchyp, I wysse, þat wroȝt alle þynges,
Alle þe worlde with þe welkyn, þe wynde & þe sternes,
& alle þat woneȝ þer with-inne, at a worde one.
Alle þis meschef for me is made at þys tyme,
For I haf greued my god & gulty am founden;
For-þy bereȝ me to þe borde, & baþeþes me þer-oute,
Er gete ȝe no happe, I hope forsoþe.”
He ossed hym by vnnynges þat þay vnder-nomen,
Þat he watȝ flawen fro þe face of frelych dryȝtyn;
Þenne such a ferde on hem fel & flayed hem with-inne,
Þat þay ruyt hym to rowwe & letten þe rynk one.
Haþeles hyȝed in haste with ores ful longe,
Syn her sayl watȝ hem aslypped on sydeȝ to rowe;
Hef & hale vpon hyȝt to helpen hym seluen,
Bot al watȝ nedles note, þat nolde not bityde:
In bluber of þe blo flod bursten her ores,
Þenne hade þay noȝt in her honde þat hem help myȝt;
Þenne nas no coumfort to keuer, ne counsel non oþer,
Bot ionas in-to his Iuis Iugge bylyue.
Fyrst þay prayen to þe prynce þat prophetes seruen,
Þat he gef hem þe grace to greuen hym neuer,
Þat þay in baleleȝ blod þer blenden her handeȝ,
Þaȝ þat haþel wer his, þat þay here quelled.
Tyd by top & bi to þay token hym synne,
In-to þat lodlych loȝe þay luche hym sone;
He watȝ no tytter out-tulde þat tempest ne sessed,
Þe se saȝtled þer-with,as sone as ho moȝt.
Þenne þaȝ her takel were torne, þat totered on yþeȝ,
Styffe stremes & streȝt hem strayned a whyle,
Þat drof hem dryȝlych adoun þe depe to serue,
Tyl a swetter ful swyþe hem sweȝed to bonk.
Þer watȝ louyng on lofte, when þay þe londe wonnen,
To oure mereyable god, on moyses wyse,

With sacrafyse vp-set, & solempne vowes,
& graunted hym vn-to be god & graythly non oþer;
Þaȝ þay be Iolef for Ioye, Ionas ȝet dredes,
Þaȝ he nolde suffer no sore, his seele is on anter;
For what-so worþed ofþat wyȝe, fro he in water dipped,
Hit were a wonder to wene, ȝif holy wryt nere,

III.

Now is ionas þe Iwe Iugged to drowne;
Of þat schended schyp men schowued hym sone.
A wylde walterande whal, as wyrde þen schaped,
Þat watȝ beten of þat wyȝe þat þe water soȝte,
& watȝ war of þat wyȝe þat þe water soȝte,
& swyftely swenged hym to swepe & his swolȝ opened;
Þe folk ȝet haldande his fete þe fysch hym tyd hentes,
With-outen towche of any tothe he tuly in his þrote.
Thenne he swengeȝ & swayues to þe se boȝem,
Bi mony rokkeȝ ful roȝe & rydelande strondes,
Wyth þe mon in his mawe, malskred in drede.
As lyttel wonder hit watȝ ȝif he wo dreȝed,
For nade þe hyȝe heuen kyng, þurȝ his honde myȝt,
Warded þis wrech man in warlowes gutteȝ,
What lede moȝt lyue bi lawe of any kynde,
Þat any lyf myȝt be lint so longe hym with-inne?
Bot he watȝ sokored by þat syre þat syttes so hiȝe,
Þaȝ were wauleȝ of wele, in wombe of þat fissche,
& also dryuen þurȝ þe depe, & in derk waltereȝ.
Lorde! colde watȝ his cumfort & his care huge,
For he knew vehe a cace & kark þat hym lymped;
How fro þe bot in-to þe blober watȝ with a best lachched,
& þrwe in at hit þrote, with-outen þret more,
As mote in at a munster dor, so mukel wern his chawleȝ,
He glydes in by þe giles, þurȝ glaymande glette,
Relande in by a rop, a rode þat hym þoȝt,
Ay hele ouer hed, hourlande aboute,
Til he blunt in a blok as brod as a halle;

& þer he festnes þe fete & fathmeȝ aboute,
& stod vp in his stomak, þat stank as þe deuel;
Þer in saym & in sorȝe þat sauoured as helle,
Þer watȝ bylded his bour, þat wyl no bale suffer;
& þenne he lurkkes & laytes where watȝ le best,
In vehe a nok of his nauel, bot nowhere he fyndeȝ
No rest ne recouerer, bot ramelande myre,
In wych gut so euer he gotȝ; bot euer is god swete;
& þer he lenged at þe last & to þe lede called.
“Now prynce, of þy prophete pité þou haue!
Þaȝ I be fol, & fykel, & falce of my hert,
De-woyde now þy vengaunce, þurȝ vertu of rauthe;
Thaȝ I be gulty of gyle as gaule of prophetes,
Þou art god, & alle gowdeȝ ar grayþely þyn owen;
Haf now mercy of þy man & his mys-dedes,
& preue þe lyȝtly a lorde, in londe & in water.”
With þat he hitte to a hyrne & helde hym þer-inne,
Þer no de-foule of no fylþe watȝ fest hym abute;
Þer he sete also sounde, saf for merk one,
As in þe bulk of þe bote, þer he by-fore sleped.
So in a bouel of þat best he bideȝ on lyue,
Þre dayes & þ[r]e nyȝt ay þenkande on dryȝtyn,
His myȝt & his merci, his mesure þenne;
Now he knaweȝ hym in care þat couþe not in sele.
Ande euer walteres þis whal bi wyldren depe,
Þurȝ mony a regioun ful roȝe, þurȝ ronk of his wylle,
For þat mote in his mawe mad hym, I trowe,
Þaȝ hit lyttel were, hym wyth to wamel at his hert,
Ande assayled þe segge; ay sykerly he herde
Þe bygge borne on his bak & bete on his sydes;
Þen a prater ful prest þe prophete þer maked
On þis wyse, as I wene, his wordeȝ were mony:

IV.

“Lorde to þe haf I eleped, in careȝ ful stronge,
Out of þe hole þou me herde, of hellen wombe

I calde, & þou knew myn vncler steuen;
Þou dipteȝ me of þe depe se, in-to þe dymme hert,
Þe grete flem of þy flod folded me vmbe;
Alle þe goteȝ of þy guferes, & groundeleȝ powleȝ,
& þy stryuande stremeȝ of stryndeȝ so mony,
In on daschande dam, dryueȝ me ouer;
& ȝet I say, as I seet in þe se boþem,
‘Care-ful am I kest out fro þy cler yȝen
& deseuered fro þy syȝt; ȝet surely I hope,
Efte to trede on þy temple & teme to þy seluen.
I am wrapped in water to my wo stoundeȝ,
Þe abyme byndes þe body þat I byde inne;
Þe pure poplande hourle playes on my heued,
To laste mere of Vche a mount man am I fallen;
Þe barreȝ of vche a bonk ful bigly me haldes,
Þat I may lachche no lont & þou my lyf weldes;
Þou schal releue me renk, whil þy ryȝt slepeȝ,
Þurȝ myȝt of þy mercy þat mukel is to tryste.
For when pacces of anguych watȝ hid in my sawle,
Þenne I remembred me ryȝt of my rych lorde,
Prayande him for petè his prophete to here,
Þat in-to his holy hous myn orisoun moȝt entre.
I haf meled with þy maystres mony longe day,
Bot now I wot wyterly, þat þose vnwyse ledes
Þat affyen hym in vanyté & in vayne þynges,
For þink þat mountes to noȝt, her mercy forsaken;
Bot I dewoutly awowe þat verray betȝ halden,
Soberly to do þe sacrafyse when I schal saue worþe,
& offer þe for my hele a ful hol gyfte,
& halde goud þat þou me hetes; haf here my trauthe.”
Thenne oure fader to þe fysch ferslych biddeȝ,
Þat he hym sput spakly vpon spare drye;
Þe whal wendeȝ at his wylle & warþe fyndeȝ,
& þer he brakeȝ vp þe buryne, as bede hym oure lorde.
Þenne he swepe to þe sonde in sluchched cloþes,
Hit may wel be þat mester were his mantyle to wasche;

Þe bonk þat he blosched to & bode hym bisyde,
Wern of þe regiounes ryȝt þat he renayed hade;
Þenne a wynde of goddeȝ worde efte þe wyȝe bruxleȝ,
“Nylt þou neuer to nuniue bi no-kynneȝ wayeȝ?”
“Ȝisse lorde,” quod þe lede, “lene me þy grace
For to go at þi gre, me gayneȝ non oþer.”
“Ris, aproche þen to prech, lo þe place here!
Lo! my lore is in þe loke, lance hit þer-inne.”
Þenne þe renk radly ros as he myȝt,
& to niniue þat maȝt he neȝed ful euen;
Hit watȝ a ceté ful syde & selly of brede,
On to þrenge þer-þurze watȝ þre dayes dede.
Þat on Iournay ful Ioynt Ionas hym ȝede,
Er euer he warpped any worde to wyȝe þat he mette,
& þenne he cryed so cler, þat kenne myȝt alle;
Þe trwe tenor of his teme he tolde on þis wyse:
“Ȝet schal forty dayeȝ fully fare to an ende,
& þenne schal Niniue be nomen & to noȝt worþe;
Truly þis ilk toun schal tylte to grounde,
Vp-so-doun schal ȝe dumpe depe to þe abyme,
To be swolȝed swyftly wyth þe swart erþe,
& alle þat lyuyes here-inne lose þe swete.”
Þis speche sprang in þat space & spradde alle aboute,
To borges & to bacheleres, þat in þat burȝ lenged;
Such a hidor hem hent & hatel drede,
Þat al chaunged her chere & chylled at þe hert.
Þe segge sesed not ȝet, bot sayde euer ilyche
“Þe verray vengaunce of god schal voyde þis place.”
Þenne þe peple pitosly pleyned ful stylle,
& for þe drede of dryȝtyn doured in hert;
Heter hayreȝ þay hent þat asperly bited,
& þose þay bounden to her bak & to her bare sydeȝ,
Dropped dust on her hede & dymly bisoȝten,
Þat þat penaunce plesed him þat playneȝ on her wronge.
& ay he cryes in þat kyth tyl þe kyng herde;
& he radly vp-ros & ran fro his chayer,

100

His ryche robe he to-rof of his rigge naked,
& of a hep of askes he hitte in þe myddeȝ;
He askeȝ heterly a hayre & hasped hym vmbe,
Sewed a sekke þer abof, & syked ful colde;
Þer he dased in þat duste, with droppande teres,
Wepande ful wonderly alle his wrange dedes.
Þenne sayde he to his seriauntes, “samnes yow bilyue,
Do dryue out a decre demed of my seluen,
Þat alle þe bodyes þat ben with-inne þis borȝ quyk,
Boþe burnes & bestes, burdeȝ & childer,
Vch prynce, vche prest & prelates alle,
Alle faste frely for her falce werkes;
Seseȝ childer of her sok, soghe hem so neuer,
Ne best bite on no brom, ne no bent nauþer,
Passe to no pasture, ne pike non erbes,
Ne non oxe to no hay, ne no horse to water;
Al schal crye for-clemmed, with alle oure clere strenþe,
Þe rurd schal ryse to hym þat rawþe schal haue;
What wote oþer wyte may ȝif þe wyȝe lykes,
Þat is hende in þe hyȝt of his gentryse?
I wot his myȝt is so much, þaȝ he be mysse-payed,
Þat in his mylde amesyng he mercy may fynde;
& if we leuen þe layk of oure layth synnes,
& stylle steppen in þe styȝe he styȝtleȝ hym seluen,
He wyl wende of his wodschip, & his wrath leue,
& for-gif vus þis gult ȝif we hym god leuen.”
Þenne al leued on his lawe & laften her synnes,
Par-formed alle þe penaunce þat þe prynce radde;
& god þurȝ his godnesse forgef as he sayde,
Þaȝ he oþer bihyȝt, [&] with-helde his vengaunce.

V.

Muche sorȝe þenne satteled vpon segge Ionas,
He wex as wroth as þe wynde towarde oure lorde,
So hatȝ anger onhit his hert; he calleȝ
A prayer to þe hyȝe prynce, for pyne, on þys wyse:

101

“I bische þe syre now þou self iugge,
Watȝ not þis ilk my worde þat worþen is nouþe,
Þat I kest in my cuntre, when þou þy carp sendeȝ,
Þat I schulde tee to þys toun, þi talent to preche?
Wel knew I þi cortaysye, þy quoynt soffraunce.
Þy bounté of debonerté & þy bene grace,
Þy longe abydyng wyth lur, þy late vengaunce,
& ay þy mercy is mete, be mysse neuer so huge.
I wyst wel when I hade worded quatsoeuer I cowþe,
To manace alle þise mody men þat in þis mote dowelleȝ,
Wyth a prayer & a pyne þay myȝt her pese gete,
& þer-fore I wolde haf flowen fer in-to tarce.
Now lorde lach out my lyf, hit lastes to longe,
Bed me bilyue my bale stour, & bryng me on ende,
For me were swetter to swelt, as swyþe as me þynk,
Þen lede lenger þi lore, þat þus me les makeȝ.”
Þe soun of oure souerayn þen swey in his ere,
Þat vpbraydes þis burne vpon a breme wyse:
“Herk renk! is þis ryȝt so ronkly to wrath,
For any dede þat I haf don oþer demed þe ȝet?”
Ionas al Ioyles & Ianglande vp-ryses
& haldeȝ out on est half of þe hyȝe place,
& farandely on a felde he fetteleȝ hym to bide,
For to wayte on þat won what schulde worþe after.
Þer he busked hym a bour, þe best þat he myȝt,
Of hay & of euer-ferne & erbeȝ a fewe,
For hit watȝ playn in þat place for plyande greueȝ
For to schylde fro þe schene, oþer any schade keste.
He bowed vnder his lyttel boþe, his bak to þe sunne,
& þer he swowed & slept sadly al nyȝt,
Þe whyle god of his grace ded growe of þat soyle,
Þe fayrest bynde hym abof þat euer burne wyste.
When þe dawande day dryȝtyn con sende,
Þenne wakened þe wyȝ vnder wodbynde,
Loked alofte on þe lef þat lylled grene;
Such a lefsel of lof neuer lede hade,

102

For hit watȝ brod at þe boþem, boȝted onlofte,
Happed vpon ayþer half a hous as hit were,
A nos on þe norþ syde & nowhere non elleȝ,
Bot al schet in a schaȝe þat schaded ful cole.
Þe gome glyȝt on þe grene graciouse leues,
Þat euer wayued a wynde so wyþe & so cole;
Þe schyre sunne hit vmbe-schon, þaȝ no schafte myȝt
Þe mountaunce of a lyttel mote, vpon þat man schyne,
Þenne watȝ þe gome so glad of his gay logge,
Lys loltrande þer-inne, lokande to toune,
So blyþe of his wodbynde he balteres þer vnde[r],
Þat of no diete þat day þe deuel haf, he roȝt;
& euer he laȝed as he loked þe loge alle aboute,
& wysched hit were in his kyth, þer he wony schulde,
On heȝe vpon Effraym oþer enmonnes hilleȝ,
“I-wysse a worþloker won to welde I neuer keped.”
& quen hit neȝed to naȝt nappe hym bihoued;
He slydeȝ on a sloumbe, slep sloghe vnder leues,
Whil god wayned a worme þat wrot vpe þe rote,
& wyddered watȝ þe wodbynde bi þat þe wyȝe wakned;
& syþen he warneȝ þe west to waken ful softe,
& sayeȝ vnte ȝeferus þat he syfle warme,
Þat þer quikken no cloude bi-fore þe cler sunne,
& ho schal busch vp ful brode & brenne as a candel.
Þen wakened þe wyȝe of his wyl dremes,
& blusched to his wodbynde þat broþely watȝ marred,
Al welwed & wasted þo worþelych leues;
Þe schyre sunne hade hem schent, er euer þe schalk wyst,
& þen hef vp þe hete & heterly brenned;
Þe warm wynde of þe weste wertes he swyþeȝ.
Þe man marred on þe molde þat moȝt hym not hyde,
His wodbynde watȝ away, he weped for sorȝe,
With hatel anger & hot, heterly he calleȝ:
A! þou maker of man, what maystery þe þynkeȝ
Þus þy freke to forfare forbi alle oþer,

103

With alle meschef þat þou may, neuer þou me spareȝ?
I keuered me a cumfort þat now is caȝt fro me,
My wod-bynde so wlonk þat wered my heued,
Bot now I se þou art sette my solace to reue;
Why ne dyȝtteȝ þou me to diȝe; I dure to longe?”
Ȝet oure lorde to þe lede lansed a speche:
“Is þis ryȝt-wys þou renk, alle þy ronk noyse,
So wroth for a wodbynde to wax so sone,
Why art þou so waymot wyȝe for so lyttel?”
“Hit is not lyttel,” quod þe lede, “bot lykker to ryȝt,
I wolde I were of þis worlde wrapped in moldeȝ.”
“Þenne byþenk þe mon, if þe for-þynk sore,
If I wolde help my honde werk, haf þou no wonder;
Þou art waxen so wroth for þy wod-bynde,
& trauayledeȝ neuer to tent hit þe tyme of an howre,
Bot at a wap hit here wax & away at an oþer,
& ȝet lykeȝ þe so luþer, þi lyf woldeȝ þou tyne;
Þenne wyte not me for þe werk þat I hit wolde help,
& rwe on þo redles þat remen fpr synne.
Fyrst I made hem myself of materes myn one,
& syþen I loked hem ful longe & hem on lode hade;
& if I my trauayl schulde tyne of termes so longe,
& type doun ȝonder toun when hit turned were,
Þe sor of such a swete place burde synk to my hert,
So mony malicious mon as mourneȝ þer-inne;
& of þat soumme ȝet arn summe such sotteȝ for madde,
As lyttel barneȝ on barme þat neuer bale wroȝt,
& wymmen vnwytté þat wale ne couþe
Þat on hande fro þat oþer, for alle þis hyȝe worlde,
Bitwene þe stele & þe stayre disserne noȝt cunen,
What rule renes in roun bitwene ȝe ryȝt hande
& his lyfte, paȝ his lyf schulde lost be þer-for;
& als þer ben doumbe besteȝ in þe burȝ mony,
Þat may not synne in no syt hem seluen to greue,
Why schulde I wrath wyth hem, syþen wyȝeȝ wyl torne,
& cum cnawe me for kyng, & my carp leue?

104

Wer I as hastif a[s] þou, heere were harme lumpen,
Couþe I not þole bot as þou þer þryued ful fewe;
I may not be so mal[i]cious & mylde be halden,
For malyse is noȝ[t] mayntyne boute mercy withinne;
Be noȝt so gryndel god man, bot go forth þy wayes.”
Be preue & be pacient, in payne & in Ioye,
For he þat is to rakel to renden his cloþeȝ,
Mot efte sitte with more vn-sounde to sewe hem togeder.
For-þy when pouerte me enpreceȝ & payneȝ in-noȝe,
Ful softly with suffraunce saȝttel me bihoueȝ,
For þe penaunce & payne to preue hit in syȝt,
Þat pacience is a nobel poynt, þaȝ hit displese ofte.

Amen.

University of Virginia Library

The Pearl.

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XXI.

CLEANNESS.

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PATIENCE.

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