[Poems from the Vernon MS]

God Almihti þat alle þing weldes,
Wyndes, watres, wodes and ffeldes,
And soþly, as þou madest of nouht
Alle creatures þat euer were wrouht,
ffor-ȝif vs, lord, þis day vr synne,
Þis digne sacrament to bi-ginne,
And also worschupe þer-of to speke,
Þat we neuere þe trouþe breke,
Ne forte telle in þis Prolonge (!)
Þing þat falleþ to eny wronge,
But þat hit mihte beo þe to queme
And vs in studefast trouþe to ȝeme.—

Godus sone in heuene a-boue,
He schewed vs also muche loue:
ffor whon his passion neihȝed him neih,
To his disciples þat weren him by
He ȝaf his bodi, hem to fede—
More loue miht he not schewe in dede—
Þat þei schulde muynde haue
Of hym þat miht hem þenne saue.

Ȝit a-forward he let hym slo
Wiþ so gret deþ-pyne and wo.
ffor vs and hem dude he þis,
To bringe vs alle to his blis.
More loue miht he not do,
Ne neuer mon mihte do so;
ffor vs he dude hit, in certeyn,
Þat we schulde loue hym wel aȝein.
Þouh we vr-self [ȝaf] an hundred siþe,
O poynt of such loue miht we not kyþe

199

Lyk to þat loue he haþ vs done,
ffor hit is vre saluacioune.
And of vs ȝit askeþ he nouht
But þat may wel I-nouh be wrouht:
Noþing bote loue wiþ good louyng,
To loue him ouer al oþur þing
And for his loue to leue synne—
Wiþ loue his blisse þen may we wynne.
And þou may neuere haue hym to þe
But þou wolt furst synne fle:
Alle þing he loueþ, but synne he hates;
Ȝif þou loue hym, wiþ synne þou bates.
Ȝif þou loue on, þou most nedes
fforsake þat þyng þat he forbedes,
Elles hit is told for no loue,
And nomeliche to vr lord aboue.
Þou maiȝt not loue him, þe boc seiþ,
But þou haue wiþ þe good feiþ,
Þat is to sey, leeue þou hit wel
Al þat is writen of hym vchedel.
Studefast treuþe of loue hit semes,
And of trewþe loue men nemes:
So is þat on wiþ þat oþur,
Wiþ studefast treuþe loue, his Broþur.
To whom ouȝte vr loue be went?
To trouþe of þis sacrament.
Þis schulde leeue vche cristen mon
And lerne þe treuþe of on þat con:
Þat þe bred þat sacrefyed is
On þe Auter, is godus flesch,
fflesch and blod, þer hit is leid,
Þorwh þe wordus þe prest haþ seid;
Þat lihte wiþ-Inne þe virgine Marie
And on þe Rode for vs wolde dye
And from deþ to lyue a-Ros,
God and Mon, in Miht and loos.
ffor hose troweþ not þis cler
In þe sacrament of þe Auter,
He schal neuere þe blisse a-byde,
ffor no þing þat him may be-tyde.

200

In þe Olde lawe þus is writen—
Iewes and Cristene wel hit witen:
“God seide þat hit was wrouht,
He Comaundede alle þing of nouht”—
Þis wordus aren verrey and cler,
Dauid hem seide in þe psauter.
Seþþhe he made al of nouȝt þat was,
Lasse Maystrie were in þis caas
fforte chaunge on liknes
In to a-noþur þyng þen hit is,
Þat ilke liknesse in Bred and Wyn
In fflesch and blod to torne hit in.
His fflesch and blood in Bred is wrouht;
Siþþe he made [al] be-fore of nouht,
Ȝif þou seo hit not bodiliche in siht,
Þi soule wiþ-Inne schal trouwe hit riht;
And þauȝ þow fele no sauour
But verrey wyn and bred of fflour,
Þis is wisdam of godus ordinaunce,
To saue vs alle from þis Chaunce:
ffor ȝif hit weore as flesch to take,
Wiþ-stonde we scholde and hit forsake;
And for he nolde we hit forsoke,
Bot alle men hit vndurtoke,
Þerfore his wisdam his owne rede
Sauereþ hit in wyn and Brede.
Hit semeþ bred as to þe siht
And as Bred hit sauereþ riht;
Nouþur in siht ne in felyng
Knowest þou of no certeyn þing.
What schal þenne þe most saue
But studefast þouht þat þou schalt haue,
Studefast trouþe of vch a del,
Þat wol vs saue wondur wel.
And summe han hit seyen Bodily,
To whom he schewed his Mercy.
Lo her a tale al and sum
Þat is In Vitas Patrum:

201

1. Narracio cuiusdam religiosi.

Hit was a Mon of Religioun,
Of alle Men he hedde gret renoun;
And, for þe fend wolde him haue schent,
He leeuede not in þe sacrament,
And seide, hit was not Ihesu
Þat Conceyued was þorwh gret vertu,
Ne Ihesu was not þat Oble
Þat was reised atte sacre
And þat þe folk honourede to;
To leeue hit was not to do.
Bi-fore two Abbotes þus he tolde—
Þis Abbotes write þis tale to holde,
Hit scholde be told to eueriche mon
Þat is aȝeyn þe Cristendom
Til hit beo preued bi Clergye
Wher hit beo treuþe or heresye.

Þis Abbotes schewed him þe rihte wey,
Wiþ alle þe ensaumples þat þei couþe sey;
And al he seide hit was lye,
But ȝif he seȝe hit wiþ his eȝe
“Don þen so þat I hit seo,
Þen wol I leue þat hit so be.”

Þis Abbotes preide a ful seue-niht
Þat he wolde schewe him, to trouwe his miht,
In fflesch, in Blod on þe Auteer,
To Conferme his trouþe cler.
And him-self preide specialy
Þat god wolde schewe hym in Body,
“Lord, for no mis-bileeue,
Þat þow scholdest wiþ me greue,
But forte schewe þe riht soþnes
Þat þow art sacrament of þe Mes,
Þat I may make oþer certeyne
Whon I wiþ eȝen haue þe seyȝene.”

Þis Abbotes lyȝe in orisoun
Til þat þe seueniht were don.

202

Þe Sonenday to Churche þei come,
Þat oþur Mon wiþ hem þei nome.
A sege was ordeynt for hem þre,
To bi-holde al þat priuite
Of þat holy Sacrament
Þat scholde be schewed in here present.

Bi-twene hem sat þis ilke mon
Of whom þe Miracle furst bi-gon.
Whon þe oble was on þe Auter leid
And þe prest þe wordes hed seid,
Alle þre þouȝte hem verreylike
By-fore þe prest a Child lay quik,
In feir forme, of fflesch and blod;
Þis say þei þre þer þey stod.
Whon þe prest scholde parte þe sacrament,
An Angel [doun] from heuene was sent
And sacrefyed þe child riht þore:
As þe prest hit brac, þe Angel hit schore,
Þe Blod in to þe Chalis Ron
Of þat child, boþe God and Mon.
Þe prest ȝede to þe hiȝeste degre,
To hosel him as hit fel to be;
Hem þhouȝte þe prest brouȝte on þe patin
Mosseles of þat child newe slayn
And beed him a Mossel of þat fflesch,
Wiþ al þe blod þer-on al fresch.

Þen gan he crie wiþ loude steuene:
“Merci, Godus sone of heuene,
Þe Bred I sauh on þe Auter lyȝe
Hit is þi bodi, I seo wiþ eȝe;
Of þe Bred þorwh sacrament
To fflesch and Blod hit is went;
Þis I beo-leeue, and euere I schalle,
ffor verreyliche we seon hit alle.”

Whon he and þei weore alle certeyne,
In forme of Bred hit tornde aȝeyne.
He dude him hosel as oþur wore,
And was a good mon for euer-more.
And al oþure beo þe bettre
Þat hereþ þis tale or redeþ þis lettre.—

203

Þe Prest þat sacreþ Godus bodi,
He moste beo ful clene nedeli;
A lewed mon þat schal hit receyue,
Alle-Maner fulþe moot he weyue.

But beo þou neuere so good a prest
Ne neuer so gret wiþ-Inne þi Brest,
I rede þou here hou þei are schewed,
Al-þauh þei ben of langage lewed.

Þou wost wel, in þe Oble
Is a luytel þyng to se:
So schaltou beo luytel in wille,
Luytel and Muchel wiþ-outen ille,
Nout in pride ne in heihþe,
ffor no wisdam ne no sleihþe;
Þe soþe hit is wiþ Lucifer,
Proude men schal wone þer.

Þe Oble is mad of whete,
Þe Beste corn þat men of ete:
So schulde we beo meke and louely
To alle þo þat ben vs by;
Þis Mekenes is a-ȝeyn þat Ire
Þat is wiþ Lucifer in þat fyre.

Þe paast of þe oble nouht ne owe
Beo maad of no-maner sourdowe,
ffor þe sourdowe makeþ al soure
Þe swettest þat comeþ of þe floure.
Bi þis sourdowe is tokenynge
Þat Envye is a wikked þinge,
ffor hit for-doþ alle swetnesse of dede,
Þat god scholde ȝiue vr soules meede;
Þerfore makeþ he non herburgrye
Þer he fyndeþ biforen envye.

O vertue In þe whete is
Þat is muche a-ȝein Slouhnes:
Þer whete comeþ he wol not prike,
As Otes don and Barlike:
Ne we ne scholde not be prikel
In Idelnesse ouer-Mukel;
Idelnesse gruccheþ and is heui of þouht
And is soone wroþ for nouht,

204

And þat wraþþhe comeþ of sorwe,
And of wonhope wol muche Borwe.
Þis sacrament of þe Messe
Loueþ not such Idelnesse,
Not wiþ non nul he dwelle
Bute þer men of þe Ioye spelle.

Þe paast of þe oble seid beo-forn
Schal not beo of medlet corn,
Bote al onliche of whete:
ffoule desires schal men lete,
Þat bi-meneþ, In no wyse
We schal vs ȝiue to Couetyse,
Þat is also called Aueryce,
Þe whuche is a foul wikked vice.

Also þou seost þe oble is þinne
And muche honeste wiþ-Inne:
And þat wol wel signefye
Aȝeyn þe sinne of glotenye;
Þer wol not þe sacrament reste,
Ac glotenye wol him out keste.

And as þou sest, þe oble is whit:
So schul we haue no-maner delyt
Of no-maner fflesches take,
ffor lecherie makeþ þe soule blake.
Þeos seuene partyes beþ
In þe Oble, as we seoþ,
And eueri propurte þer-Inne
Is aȝein an hed-synne.
A-ȝeyn þis sacrament do þo
Þat aren in synne and þerto go,
Or aren in wille aȝeyn to wende
To synne and hem-self schende;
As prest þat goþ to synge Mes
Þat in dedly synne is;
An hondred-fold he sungeþ more
Þe[n] he a lewed mon wore.

Alle þat receyue þe sacrament
In dedly sunne or wikked entent
Or in eny of þeose seuene
Þat þou hast here herd nempne,

205

Riht to heore Dampnaciun,
And þerfore vengaunce schal be don.
And here I schal telle a tale
Hou hit is to þat mon Bale:

2. Narracio presbiteri parochialis.

A Parisch-prest was in a Toun,
Of ful gret discrecioun,
fful good and rihtful he was,
And god sende hym of his gras:

Of his parischens he vndurstode
Whuche wer vuel and wȝuche wer gode.
Two he hedde forte gete
Þat nolde neuere synne lete.

And hit felde on an Asterne,
Þat þe prest scholde non hosul werne
But hit were for þe gretur synne,
Inobedience or Corsyng Inne:

Þis prest was in ful gret þouht
Wher he schulde hosele hem or nouht.
He preyede to God, heuene-kyng,
Þat he wolde sende him tokenyng
Wheþer he scholde hem hosul forbede;
To ȝiue hit hem he hedde gret drede.

ffrom god he hedde þis onswere:
Þat vch on scholde heor oune charge bere,
And þat he scholde werne hit none
But ȝiue hit forþ to euerichone;
“Do as Ihesu dude in dede,
And þou schalt no mon hit forbede,
No more þen he dude Iudas
Þat hedde I-don a gret trespas;

Ihesu ȝaf alle wiþ mylde mood,
Whon Bred was turned to flesch and blod.
ffor summe þat hit take hit schal hem saue,
And summe þerfore peyne schal haue;
Aftur þey aren of synne clene,
Also schal hit on hem beo sene.”

206

Ȝit preyed he god of More grace:
Þat he mihte knowe be þe face
Whuche resceyued hit worþily,
And wȝuche to haue hit not worþi.
And [god] graunted him his wille,
To knowe þe goode from þe ille.
Þe folk þat to þe prest went
fforte receyue þe sacrament,

Of somme þe face was also briht
As þe sonne In somer-liht;

And summe þe visage was also blak
Þat noþing miht hit Blakore mak;

Of somme hit was as red as blod,
Starynge as þei weore wood;

Of somme þe visage was bolled stoute,
As boþe heore eȝen welleden oute;

And summe nymped wiþ feet and hondes,
As dogges don þat gnawen heore bondes;

And somme hedde visages of Meselri;
And somme were lyk foul Maumetri.
Moni wondres weore on hem seene,
Mo þen he couþe þenne deme.

Þe prest, whon he sauh alle þise,
Of þat siht he gan to grise,
ffor þat siht he was hidouse
And dredful and Meruilouse.

Ȝit preȝede he god wiþ good entent
Þat he mihte wite what al þis ment.
And god almihti louede him wel
And wolde schewe him eueridel:
“Þo Men þat weore so briht
As þe sonne on day-liht,
Þo Men aren ȝit in Charite
And clene of synne, and worschupeþ me.

Þo Men þat were so blake
Þat no þing mihte hem blakore make,
Þo weore lechours foul wiþ-Inne
And haue no wille to leue heor synne.

Þo Men þat weore so red as blood,
Þei are tirauns wikked of mood,

207

Heore Euencristen for to slo
Wiþ dede and wiþ word also.

Þo þat þow sauh wiþ Bollen visage,
Þo aren Envyous and ouer-outrage.

And þo þat nymped her fingres and hendes,
Are Bacbyteres bi-twene frendes.

Þo þat þou sauh Meseles bi siht,
Þey loue more good þen god almiht.

Þo þat þou sauh lik Maumetrie,
On worldly þinges þei most affye,
More loue þei catel þat he haþ sent
Þen þei don hym þat al haþ lent.

Þeose-maner men are riht in wille
In heore synne to leue stille,
And þerfore schal þe sacrament
Of hem aske heor Iugement,
Þat þei haue resceyued him vnworþily
And serued þe fend wiþ ful Envy.”—

Þis tale is told for loue of þo
Þat in synne to hosul go,
Or ben in wille to torne aȝeyn;
Al heore trauayle þei don in veyn.

Ȝif þou wole þyn hosel saue take,
Beo in wille þi synne to forsake
Euermore in studefast herte;
And ȝif þou synne in bodi smerte,
God takeþ hit nouȝt to so gret grim
As þou in tresun Receyuede hym.
In no þing wot I more tresun
Þen bringe þi lord on his felun,
And ȝit men seiþ þe synne is to greue
Þat bringeþ a trewe mon on a þeue.
Ȝif þou do þus þi witande,
Þen chargen hit me moste on hande.
Þerfore loke þou wite nouht
No synne I-hud In herte ne þouht!

ffor no Clerk þat is in synne,
Til he leue and þer-of blynne
He schulde not serue atte Auteer
Ne hondle þing þat comeþ þer neer.

208

I touched er of þis outrage
Whon I spac of þe sacrilage,
Þat þe holigost schewed him nouht
ffor þe Dekene syngede in þouht;
In þe tale of Ion Grisostomus
Þis tale is told, for ow and vs.

Als is he worþi to ben i-schent
Þat sone aftur þe sacrament
To folye and to synne drawes—
Luitel of Godus vengaunce hym awes!

Ȝif þou forȝete or ouer-sittes
Þe tyme of hosul þat þou wel wittes,
Luitel fors of him þou ȝeues,
Nouþur þou louest hym ne leues.
And ouer al he loueþ þe best;
And þou ne wolt a nihtes gest
Leten hym herborwe in þin hous!
Þou art vnkynde and Meruylous,
Þat al þe ȝer þou letest him weyue,
Wiþ worschipe woltou not him resceyue.
God Manaseþ for þis chesun,
ffor riht hit wole and eke resun:
ffor suche men aren holden vntrewe

In þe Olde lawe and in þe newe.
Comaunded In þe Olde lawe was
Ones in þe ȝeer to schewe þi trespas.

Þe newe lawe is of þe more honour,
Ones in þe ȝeer resceyue þi creatour,
Ones a ȝer him to knoweleche,
Þi lord to plese for doute of wreche.

Þat prest i blame ouer alle þinge,
Wiþ-outen gret skil þat letteþ to synge;
ffor mony a soule mihte I-saued be
Wiþ þat Masse þat þenne leueþ he.
ffor alle þat in þe peyne Is,
Abydeþ socour of þe Mes,
ffor eueri Masse makeþ Memorie
Of soules þat aren In purgatorie.
Muche þonk schal he haue
Þat helpeþ soules for to saue;

209

No þing may so muchel avayle
Of heore peynes and heore trauayle
As þe sacrament of þe Auteer,
Hit makeþ hem of peynes cleer.
And þat may I schewe apertely
Bi a tale of seynt Gregori:

(3.) Narracio felicis presbiteri.

Seint Gregori seiþ for þe same:
Hit was a prest, ffelix his name;
Bi-syde he wonede in a paþe,
Was a wassching In an hote baþe.
Þis prest ofte þider ȝede,
To wassche him whon he hedde nede.
Þis prest þer euer [redi] he fonde
A Mon to wassche him, to foot and honde;
He drouȝ his hosen of and his schon
And redi was hem on to don;
At eueri tyme he þider com
His herneis feire of he nom,
And seruede him at eueri tyde
In þat watur and ofte beo-syde.

Þis prest þat com þider so ofte,
Þat þis mon þer seruede so softe,
He ne askede hym neuer-more
Wheþen he was ne hou he com þore;
But eueri tyme he was redi
And seruede him ful apertely.

Þis prest þouȝte, “he serueþ me wel,
His trauayle wol I quite sum-del.”
On a day he þider þouhte
And twey loues wiþ hym he brouhte.
In to þat baþ ȝeode þat prest
And wusch him as he dude nest;
Þis mon was þere him aȝeyn,
To serue him wel he dude his Mayn.
Þis prest, whon he scholde go,
He ȝaf þis mon þis loues two,
And þonked him muchel his seruyse,
And more he scholde haue oþurwyse.

210

Þis Mon onswerde þis prest a-ȝeyn:
“Þis bred ȝe bringeþ to me in veyn,
ffor neuer-more schal I ȝete
Bred ne non oþur mete:
I am a Mon þat is ded,
Þat neuer-more schal ete bred.”

Þe prest asked: “on what manere
Is hit þat þou wonest here?”
Þis Mon onswerde in þat tyde:
“I was lord here ar I dyede,
And þis seruise þat I am Inne
Is þe peyne for my synne.
Bote I þe preye par charite,
Offre on þe Auter þes loues for me;
And I beseche þe ouer alle þynge
Þat sixe Masses for me þou synge;
And heo weore songen, I hope to wende
In to þe Ioye wiþ-outen ende.
And whon þe sixte masse is left,
Ȝif þou ne fynde me her eft,
Trouwe [þou] þenne forsoþe i-wis
Þat for þi preyere I am in Blis.”

Þis prest al þat wike longe
ffor þis mon preyede and songe.
And whon þe wike was al gon,
Þe prest com þidere, and fond non;
He hopede wel þat he was brouht
To blisse, for he ne fond him nouht.—

Beo þis tale ȝe may se
Þat hit is gret Charite
Masses for þe dede to synge,
Þe soules [out] of pyne forte bringe.
Ouer alle þing hit haþ pouwer,
Þe sacrament of þe Auter,
And nomeliche whon hit is don
Wiþ good monnes deuocion;
Him wol god sannore here
Þen on þat is him nouht so dere.

In þe seueþe Comaundement
Toucheþ to þis sacrament

211

In a tale of þat kniht,
Hou þe prest þat liueþ not riht,
Of his preyere is luytel prou,
And þere hit telleþ wel hou.
And I schal telle anoþur here
Of a Masse of a good frere:

(4.) hou a man of Souþfolk was saued þorou a masse.

A mon in Souþfolk ones dyed,
Bi-sydes Sudburi, as men seid.
ffor þat mon such grace was diht
Þat him was graunted to come a niht
fforte speke wiþ his wyf,
To mende þe fautes of his lyf.
“Ȝef a Masse,” he seide, “were for me don
Wiþ a good monnes deuocion,
I hope to Ioye for to go
And beo dilyueret of al my wo.

I preye þe, dame, par charite
To trauayle so muche for me.”
Heo graunted hym þat ilke bone,
And ros vppon þe morwen sone
And to þe ffreres sone heo eode,
Þer heo hopede best to spede.

Heo com and spac wiþ a ffrere
And preyed heo moste his masse here,
And for hire hosebondes soule to synge,
And heo wolde ȝiue hym offringe.

Þe ffrere dude hire a Mes
In Comuyn, as þe seruise is.
Whon þis Masse I-songen was,
Heo wente hom a good pas.

Þe niht aftur þenne com he.
“Slepestou?” he seide. “nay,” seide heo;
“Are ȝe ȝit,” heo seyde, “in blis?
Þe Masse for ow I-songen is.”

“Þe Masse,” he seide, “þou dudest do,
A parti hit helpeþ me þerto;
Mi part ich hedde of þat Mes
As of þing þat Comuyn is.

212

Ȝif on weore specialy for me seid,
Of my peyne I were ful leyd,
Ȝif þe prest were of lyf so good
Þat God his preyere vndurstood;
I hope þenne grace to haue
Þat his Masse mihte me saue;”
Ofte he seide to his wyf:
“A prest, A prest of clene lyf!”

On þe Morwen forþ heo eode
To þe ffreres eft to spede,
And schewed hit to þe priour,
And preyed him of socour;
Ȝif he hedde eny broþur
Þat he kneuh beter þen oþur,
“Þat wol synge me a Mes
ffor a Mon þat ded is,
At myn ese he schal haue
To a pitaunce what he wol craue.”

Þe prior spac to a ffrere
And preyed him on alle manere
Þat he wolde a Masse synge
ffor þat soule heo made preyinge.

Þe ffrere was an holy mon;
And ar [þat] he his Masse bi-gon,
He preyed to god his orison,
Wiþ a gret deuocion,

Þat hit mihte ben him to pay,
Þe Masse þat he scholde synge to-day.
Whon þe Masse was don to þe ende,
He bad þe wommon hom [to] wende,
“And whon þou more eft heres,
Cum and sey to vre ffreres!”

Þe niht aftur—lustneþ now!—
He com and seide: “slepestou?”
“Nay,” heo sayde, “hou fare ȝe?”
“Wel,” he seide, “and so worþ þe!”
“Sire, weore ȝe a-payed of þat Mas
Þat for ow to-day songen was?”
“Ȝe,” he seide, “graunt Merci!
Þat Masse to me is more worþi

213

Þen al þe world an hundred siþe,
Ne miht haue mad me neuer so bliþe.
His preyere was to god so dere,
ffor al þat he preyede he wolde here;
Þeih he hedde preiȝed for a þousund mo,
ffrom peyne to blisse þei hedde i-go;
ffor what þing he hedde asked bone,
God wolde ha graunted him ful sone.

Haue good day! for now I wende
To þat Ioye wiþ-outen ende.
God lete þe neuere þer-of mis,
Þou ne he, to haue þat blis.”

Þe wyf com sone on þe Morn
And fel on knes þat ffrere bi-forn
And tolde him þer eueridel
Hou he for his preyere was wel.
And þat ffrere ful wel he lette,
And þonked God, for Ioye he grette.
Wel weore hym at his endynge
Hedde such a prest for him to synge!—
In þis tale schewed is:
Of alle þing good is þe mes,
Þe sacrament on þe Auter
Ouer alle passeþ his pouwer.
In þe Masse þei hem a-fye
Þe soules þat are in purgatorie.

Þe sone is offred to þe ffadur of heuene
ffor þe soules þe prest wol nempne;
Þat is þus for to mene:
Ȝif þe prest beo good and clene,
Þenne wol Ihesu crist hym heere,
ffor what þyng he makeþ preyere;
Preye he for soule or for bodi,
Þat aren in pyne or in nuy,
Boþe wol god almihti saue
What þe gode prest wolde haue.
Not only for soulus is he herd,
Bote eke for vs here in þis world.
Beo a Mon in seknesse or in prisun,
Weyferynge, or in temptaciun,

214

Or in eny oþur trauayle,
Þe sacrament wol vs a-vayle;
Hit wol delyuere vs out of peyn,
Ȝif vr trouþe beo certeyn.
And þat was wel schewed in dede
In Engelonde, so seiþ seint Bede:
In his Bokes writen hit is,
A feir Miracle of þe Mes:

(5.) Narracio Bede.

Þat tyme seint Bede was liuonde,
Weore Mony kynges in þis londe.
Bi-twene two was gret Batayle—
Þerfore i telle þis Meruayle;
Þat on hiht Edfride, of North Cuntre,
Þat oþur of lindeseye was he.

Edfride hedde gret seygneri,
Seynt Andreu hosbonde of hely.
Þis Batayle was bi boþe heore a-sent
Bi-sydes a watur men calleþ Trent.
Sire Elfride broþur hette Eleswynne,
He was slayn þat Batayle Inne;
On boþe partys ne was non
So feir a kniht of fflesch and bon,
Ne non so douhti was of Armes—
Þerfore seint Bede pleynede his harmes.

A-noþur kniht was feld doun
Nerhonde ded, and fel in swoun;
Þe nome of þis ȝonge kniht
Ruyna, seiþ seint Bede, he hiht.
Whon þis Ruyna hedde long leyn,
He keuerde, and seet vp aȝeyn,
And stopped his woundes þei schulde not blede,
And, as he mihte, þennes he ȝede,
To seche him help sumwher to haue,
Of frendes fynde him to saue.

As he wente wiþ muchel drede,
He was taken wiþ kyng Coldrede;
And brouht him to a lordyng,
An Erl, þat heold of þe kyng.

215

Þe Erl asked him what he was,
And wher he hedde ben in hard cas.
ffor doute of deþ he was a-friht
And dorste not seye he was a kniht;

He seide: “sire, ȝif þi wille be,
I am an hosebonde-mon of þe cuntre,
I was wont to lede vitayle
To knihtes þat weoren in Batayle;
And nou I am a pore mon,
Þus fro þis Batayle I com,
And wolde fonde to haue my lyf,
Til I may come to my wyf.”

Þis Erl dude a leche bi stoundes
To tente to hym, to hele his woundes.
Þat tyme was here mony þeodes,
Mony vsages, and mony leodes,
ffor vche a kyng in þat dawes
Vsede his diuerse lawes:

Summe were cristene in vre fay,
And summe leeuede in paynymes lay;
Þerfore þat tyme was muchel þro,
And ofte was boþe werre and wo.

Ȝif a kniht miht oþer men take,
He scholde hem sulle or in seruage make.
Wherfore i telle so of þis kniht:
Þe Erl let him bynde eueriche niht,
Þat he ne scholde from hym fle
Ne stele a-wey to his cuntre.
ffor al þat þei mihte him bynde,
Ofte loos þei dude hym fynde;
Neuer so faste þeih heo him bounde,
Loos a-noþur tyme þei him founde.

Þis bounden kniht, Ruyna,
Hedde a Broþur, þat hihte Tymma;
Þis Tymma was prest Religious,
ffor he was Abbot of an hous,
So longe he liuede in þat estre
Þat his nome heet Tymmestre;
Þat tyme, as ich vndurstonde,
Hit was in Northhumberlonde.

216

Þis Abbot hedde tiþinges certeyne
Þat Ruyna was in Batayle slayne.
He com to Trent, þis Abbot Tymma,
And fond a bodi lyk to Ruyna;
Honorabliche he dude hit graue
In his chirche þer he wolde hit haue,

And song þerfore day and oþur:
He wende hit hedde ben his broþur.
Þauh Tymma hedde chosun wrong,
His broþur hedde þe goodus of þe song—
ffor God al wot, and wust hit þere
ffor whom he made his preyere:—
Þeih men a-niht þis kniht bounde,
A-Morwe þei hym loos founde,
Men mihte hym neuere bynde so fest
Þat þei þat tyme nolde al to-berst.
Þe men þat hedde þis kniht in holde,
Þis wondur to þe Erl þei tolde.

Þe Erl hedde þer-of gret wondur
Þat þis bondes weore so in-sondur;
He seide, him-self wolde wiþ him speke
And wite whi his bondes dude breke.

Bi-fore þe Erl was he set,
And þe Erl feire he gret.
“Sey me,” he seide, “þou belamy,
Const þou wel on sorcery?
Sum wicche-craft I trouwe þou bere
Þat þi bondes þe not dere;
fforsoþe,” he seyde, “sumwhat þou dos
Þat euer-more þei fynde þe loos.”

He seide: “wicche-craft con I nouht,
Ne for me schal non beo wrouht,
Ne I nul be by fendes craft
vn-bounde beo, bi no wicche-craft.

Sire Erl,” he seide, “hit is a-noþur:
In my cuntre I haue a Broþur,
Þat leeueþ wel þat I beo slayn,
ffor I com not hom aȝeyn;
ffor me he syngeþ vche day a Mes—
prest, abbot forsoþe he is.

217

I wot wel, þat is þe enchesun
Þat my Bondus here vndon;
ffor no þing ne haues pouwer
Aȝeyn þe sacrament of þe auter.
ffor, ȝif I weore ded, in oþur werld,
His preyere for me weore I-herd,
To bringe me out of peyne and wo,
And siþen to blisse forte go.”

Al þat Meyne and þat Erl
Leeuede wel he was no cherl,
as he to-fore hem hedde i-seid
Whon þei on hym furst hond leyd;
Bi his semblaunt and feir beryng
Hym semed wel a gret lordyng,
Bi his speche þei vndurstood
Þat he was mon of gentil blod.

Þe Erl tok him in priuite,
Wheþen he was telle scholde he;
“Sey me soþ, and, as I am trewe kniht,
Þou schalt no skaþe haue, be my miht.”

“Seþþhe þou me bi-hotest pes and griþ,
I am þe kynges mon Eldriþ;
Armes I bar in þat Batayle,
Wiþ my pouwer him to auayle.”

“So me þhouȝte,” seide þe Erl,
“Þou semed not to ben a cherl.
Bote for þi knowlechyng her me bye
Þou weore worþi for to dye,
ffor þou halp þer to slo,
Þat al my kynde is ded me fro;
Bote, for I er sikerde þe,
Scha[l]t þou haue no skaþe for me.”

He eode and sold him for Raunsoun
At Londone to a ffrisoun.
A ffrisoun, ȝe schul vndurstonde,
Is a Mon of ffrys-londe.

Þis ffrisoun scholde þis Mon forþ lede,
And dude on him bondes for drede,
ffor a-skapyng bi þe weye
He dude bondes on him leye.

218

Bot þat vaylede him no-þyng
Neuer a day, þat byndyng:
ffor in þat tyme þe masse was songen,
Þe bondes to-barst and al to-sprongen.

Þis ffrison þhouȝte: “hou may þis beo?
He may riht wel from me fleo;
Happyliche hit a-vayleþ nouht
Þe Catel þat I wiþ him bouht.”

Þe ffrison seide: “wolt þou wel
Restore a-ȝeyn al my Catel,
And I schal ȝiue þe leue to go
To þi Cuntre þat þou com fro.
But furst þou schalt me trouþe pliht,
And trewely hold hit wiþ al þi miht,
To bringe þe Catel I ȝaf for þe,
And elles I graunte þe not fre.”
He graunted him al þat he seide,
And trouþe in hond wiþ hym he leide.

Þis Ruyna wente to kyng loer,
Þat was kyng of Caunturber—
He was seint Andreus suster sone,
And Ruyna was wont wiþ hym to wone;
Of al his stat, boþe wo and wele,
Ruyna told him eueridele.

Þe kyng ȝaf him his Raunsun;
And [he] bar hit to londun to þat ffrisun.
Seþþe eode he hom, þis kniht Ruyna,
To his broþur, Abbot Timma,
And tolde him of al his wo-fare
And of his cumfort in al his care.

Þis Abbot wel vndurstood
Þat his Masse dude him gret good
And þe sacrament gon hym borwe
Out of seruage and out of sorwe.

Þis tale telleþ vs seynt Bede
In his gestes þat we Rede.—
Bi þis tale may men lere
Þat Masses helpeþ vs wel here:
ffor vs liuynge hit makeþ Memorie,
Also for þe soules in purgatorie.

219

Vche mon schal leeue þat riht
Þat helpen hit wolle as [hit] dude þe kniht.

Þis sacrament helpeþ not ȝit alone,
Bote þe offrynges euerichone,
Al þat we offre atte Mes,
Al to vre saluacion hit is.
Not only forte saue þe dede,
Þe quike hit saueþ also and rede;
As wel haue þe quike þe prou
As þe dede þerof þe vertu nou;
Quike and dede, More and lesse
Ben I-saued þorwh þe Messe.

Þe Offringe is as a present,
Þat helpeþ vs wiþ þe sacrament,
To þe ffadur of heuene tentefuly,
ffor whom þou offerest to haue Merci.

A tale I fond ones I-writen,
And as I sauh hit, I wol ȝe witen,
And wel a-cordeþ in alle þinge
Þat God is payed of good offringe.

(6.) Of a man þat was closed in a myne.

Hit was a Mon bi-ȝonde þe séé,
A Mynour, wonede In a Citee.
Mynours, þei makeþ in hulles holes,
As men don þat secheþ coles.
Þe Mynour souht stones vndur molde
Þat Men of maken seluer and golde.
He wrouhte and holede in þe hille.
A perilous chaunce fel hym tille:
A gret parti of þe Myne
ffel doun þer and closed hym Inne.

His felawes alle þat weren hym hende,
Þat he weore ded wel þei wende;
Þei eode and tok hem alle to Rede,
And tolde his wyf þat he was dede.

Þis wommon bi-menede hir hosebonde sore—
God leeue þat mony such wymmen wore!—
Heo helped his soule in alle þynge,
In almes-dede and in offringe;

220

Heo Offred for him atte Auter
fful of wyn a picher,
And [a] feir lof wiþ-al,
Eueri day as principal,
And al þat twelf-moneþ stabely,
Bote o day þat passed forby.
ffewe suche wymmen [now] we fynde
Þat to heore hosebondes are so kynde!
Bote þis wyf wiþ al hire miht
Dude for him [boþe] day and niht.

Hit fel at þe twelfmoneþ ende,
His felawes to þe hul gon wende,
And come to þat same stude eft
Þer þei heore felawe in werk left.
Riht þere þei furst bi-gon
Þei percede þorwh in to þe Mon:
Þe Mon In good stat þei founde,
Liuinge, wiþ-outen wem or wounde.
Euerichone þei hedde ferly,
And þat was gret Resun why!
Alle þo men weore in gret weer
How he hedde lyued al þat ȝer.
Bote þenne he tolde hem euerichon
How he hedde lyued þer al-on:
“I haue I-liued gracious lyf
Þorwh cortesye of my wyf:
Eueri day heo haþ me sent
Bred and wyn to present;
But o day, þenne eet I nouht,
ffor my mete me nas not brouht.”

Þei ladde þe mon in to þe toun,
And tolde þis Miracle vp and doun,
ffurst þorwh þe Citéé,
And seþþe þorwh al þe contre.
Hit com in spekyng atte laste
Þat day þat he dude faste.
He tolde hem þe dayes name,
And his wyf seide þe same:
Þat day heo offrede neuer a del,
Þe goode ffriday hit mihte be wel.

221

Now may ȝe here þat almes-dede
Gostlyche wole a mon fede,
And so may ȝe wel vnderstande
Þat God is payed of good offrande.—

ffor al þis tale in ȝor lyues
Trustneþ not in ȝor wyues,
Ne in ȝour children no-þing;
Makeþ or-self ȝour offring!
So kynde a wommon as I of tolde
Liueþ not now, beo ȝe bolde!
Ne no clerk þat þis redes
Schal fynde non nou of so kynde dedes.—

Ȝe men þat are nou In present,
Þat hereþ rede þis sacrament,
Ouer alle þing hit haþ power,
Þe sacrament on þe Auter,
As I haue here to ow i-schewed,
Not to lered bote to lewed.
Ȝe lewede men, I telle hit ow—
Þis clerkes con hit wel I-nouh.
Preiȝe we þenne vr creatour,
Þat þe sacrament, vr saueour,
Þat Bodi and soule he wol vs saue,
And we him to loue and he us to haue.

Amen.

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