The Dance of Death :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Dance of Death

Edited from mss. Ellesmere 26/A.13 and B. M. Lansdowne 699, collated with the other extant mss. By Florence Warren: With introduction, notes, etc. by Beatrice White

Lydgate, John (1370?-1451?)

[section]

THE DAUNCE OF DEATH

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THE DAUNCE OF DEATH

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Square brackets denote editorial insertions or emendations.

VERBA TRANSLATORIS

I

O [ȝ]ee folkes harde herted as a stone
Which to the world haue al your aduertence
Like as hit sholde laste euere in oone
Where ys ȝoure witte where ys ȝoure prouidence
To see a-forne the sodeyne vyolence
Of cruel dethe that ben so wyse and sage
Whiche sleeth allas by stroke of pestilence
Bothe ȝonge and olde of low and hie parage.

II

Dethe spareth not low ne hye degre
Popes kynges ne worthi Emperowrs
When thei schyne moste in felicite
He can abate the fresshnes of her flowres
Ther briȝt sune clipsen with hys showres
Make hem plownge from theire sees lowe
Maugre the myght of al these conquerowres
Fortune hath hem from her whele [y]throwe.

III

Considereth this ȝe folkes that ben wyse
And hit enprenteth in ȝowre memorialle
Like the exawmple whiche that at Parise
I fownde depicte ones on a walle

Ful notabely as I reherce shal
Ther of frensshe clerkes tak[yng] acqueyntaunce
I toke on me to translaten al
Owte of the frensshe Macabrees daunce.

IV

BI whos a-vyse and cownseille atte leste
Thurh her sterynge and her mocioune
I obeyed vnto her requeste
Ther of to make a pleyne translacioun
In Inglisshe tunge of entencioun
That prowde folkes whiche that ben stoute & bolde
As in a myrrowre to-forn yn her reasoun
Her owgly fyne may clierli ther be-holde.

V

By exaumple that thei yn her ententis
A-mende her life in eueri maner age
The whiche daunce at seint Innocentis
Portreied is with al the surplu[s]age
To schewe this worlde is but a pilgrimage
Ȝeuen vn-to vs owre lyues to correcte
And to declare the fyne of owre passage
Ryght a-noon my stile I wille directe.

VI

Verba Auctoris

O creatures ȝe that ben resonable
The life desiringe whiche is eternal
Ȝe mai sene here doctryne ful notable
Ȝowre life to lede whiche that ys mortal
Ther bi to lerne in [e]special
How ȝe schulle trace the daunce of machabre
To man and woman yliche natural
For dethe ne spareth hye ne lowe degre.

VII

In this myrrow[r]e eueri wight mai fynde
That hym behoueth to go vpon this daunce
Who gothe to-forne or who schal go be-hynde
All dependeth in goddes ordynaunce
Where-fore eche man lowely take his chaunce
Deth spareth not pore ne blode royal
Eche man ther-fore haue yn remembraunce
Of oo matier god hathe forged al.

VIII

Dethe to the Pope

O ȝe that ben sette moste hye In dygnite
Of al estatis in erthe spiritual
And liche as Petur had the souerente
Ouer the churche and states temporal

Vp-on this daunce [ȝe] firste begyn shal
As moste worthi lorde and gouernowre
For al the worschip of ȝowre astate papal
And of lordschip to god is the honowre.

IX

The Pope answereth

FIrst me be-houeth this daunce for to lede
Whiche sate yn erthe hyest yn my see
The state ful parilous who so taketh hede
To occupie Petirs dignitie
But for al that deth I mai not flee
On his daunce with other for to trace
For whiche al honoure who prudentely can see
Is litel worthe that doth soo sone pace.

X

Dethe to the Emperowre

SIr Emperowre lorde of al the grounde
Soueren Prince ande hyest of noblesse
Ȝe most forsake of golde ȝowre appil rounde
Sceptre and swerde & al ȝowre hie prouesse
Be-hinde leue ȝowre tresowre & richesse
And with other to my daunce obeie
Aȝens my myght is worth noon hardynesse
Adames children alle thei mosten deie.

XI

The Emperowre answereth

I not to whom that I mai appele
Towchyng dethe whiche dothe me so constreyne
Ther is no geyne to helpe my quarele
But spade & picoys my graue to atteyne
A simple shete ther is no more to seyne
To wrappe yn my bodi and visage
Ther-vp-on sore I may compleyne
That lordes grete have litle a-vauntage.

XII

Dethe to the Cardynall

Ye ben a-basshed hit semeth and yn drede
Sire Cardynal hit sheweth be ȝowre chere
But yit for-thi ȝe folow shul yn dede
With other folke my daunce for to lere
Ȝowre grete a-rai al shal be-leue here
Ȝowre hatte of rede ȝowre vesture of grete coste
All these thinges rekened well I-fere
In grete honowre gode avise is loste.

XIII

The Cardynal answereth

I haue grete cause certis this is no faile
To be a-basshed and gretli drede me
Sithen dethe is come me sodeynli to assaile
That I shal neuer here after clothed be

In gris ner hermyn like to my degre
Mi hatte of rede leve eke yn distresse
Bi whiche I haue [lerned] wel and se
How that al ioye endeth yn heuynesse.

XIV

Dethe to the Kynge

O noble Kynge moste worthi of renown
Come forth a-noon for al ȝowre worthinesse
That somme-tyme had a-bowte yow envroun
Grete [r]ialte and passynge hye noblesse
But right a-noon al ȝowre grete hyenesse
Sool fro ȝowre men yn haste ȝe schul hit lete
Who most haboundeth here yn grete richesse
Shal bere with him but a sengle shete.

XV

The Kynge answereth

I haue not lerned here-a-forne to daunce
No daunce in sothe of fotynge so sauage
Where-fore I see be clere demonstraunce
What pride is worth force or hye lynage
Deth al fordoth this is his vsage
Grete and smale that yn this worlde soiourne
Who is moste meke I holde he is moste sage
For [w]e shalle al to dede asshes turne.

XVI

Dethe to the Patriarke.

Sire Patriark al ȝowre humble chere
Ne quyte ȝow not ne ȝowre humylite
Ȝowre dowble cros of golde & stones clere
Ȝowre power hole and al ȝowre dignyte

Somme other shal of verrei equyte
Possede a-noon as I reherce can
Trusteth neuere that ȝe shul pope be
For foli hope deceyueth many a man.

XVII

The Patriark answereth

Worldli honowre grete tresowre and richesse
Haue me deceyued sothfastli in dede
Myne olde Joies ben turned to tristesse
What vaileth hit suche tresowr to possede
Hi[e] clymbyng vp [a f]alle hathe for his mede
Grete estates folke wasten owte of nombre
Who mounteth hye hit is sure & no drede
Grete burdoun dothe hym ofte encombre.

XVIII

Dethe to the Constable

Hit is my right to reste & yow constrayn
With vs to daunce my maiester sire Conestable
For more stronge than euer was Charlemayn
Dethe hathe a-forced & more worshipable
For hardynesse [n]e knyȝthode this is no fable
Ne stronge armoure of plates ne of maile
What geyneth armes of folkes most notable
Whan cruel deth luste hem to assaile.

XIX

The Constable answereth

Mi purpose was & hole entencioun
To assaille ✗ castelles and myȝty [forteresses]
And brynge folke vn-to subieccioun
To seke honowre fame & grete richesses
But I se welle that alle wordli prowesses
Deth can a-bate whiche is a grete despite
To hym al-on sorowe & eke swetenesse[s]
For aȝeyne deth is founden no respite.

XX

Dethe to the Archebisshop

Sire archebisshop whi do ȝe ȝow with-drawe
So frowardli as hit were bi disdeyne
Ȝe moste a-proche to my mortal lawe
Hit to contrarie hit were not but yn veyne
For dai be dai ther is none other geyne
Deth at honde pursueth eueri coost
Preste & dette mote be ȝolde a-ȝeyne
And atte oo day men counten with her hooste.

XXI

The Archebisshop answereth

Alas I wote not what partie for to fle
For drede of dethe I haue so grete distresse
To a-scape his myght I can no refute se
That who so knewe his constreynt & duresse
He wolde take reasoun to maistresse
A-dewe my tresowr my pompe & pride al-so
Mi peynted chambres my porte & my fresshnesse
For thynge that behoueth nedes mote be do.

XXII

Dethe to the Baroun

Ȝe that amonge lordes and barouns
Hau had so longe worship & renoun
Forȝete ȝowre trumpettes & yowre clariowns
This is no dreme ne symulacioun
Somme-tyme ȝowre custome & entencioun
Was with ladies to daunce yn the shade
But ofte hit happeth In conclusioun
That oo man breketh that another made.

XXIII

The Baroun or the knyȝt answereth

Ful ofte sithe I haue ben auctorised
To hye Emprises & thynges of grete fame
Of hie and lowe my thanke also deuysed
Cherisshed with ladies and wymmen hye of [n]ame

Ne neuer on me was putte no defame
In lordes courte whiche that was notable
But dethes stroke hath made me so lame
Under heuene in erthe is no thynge stable.

XXIV

Dethe to the Lady of gret astate

Come forth a-noon my lady & Princesse
Ȝe most al-so go vp-on this daunce
Nowt mai a-vaile ȝowre grete straungenesse
Nowther ȝowre beaute ne ȝowre grete plesaunce
Ȝowre riche a-rai ne ȝowre daliaunce
That somme-tyme cowde so many holde on honde
In loue for al ȝowre dowble variaunce
Ȝe mote as now this foting vnderstonde.

XXV

The Lady answereth

Allas I see ther is noon other bote
Dethe hathe yn erthe no ladi ne maiestresse
And on his daunce ȝitte moste I nedes fote
For ther [n]is quene Countesse ne duchesse
Flouryng in beaute ne yn feirnesse
That she of dethe mote dethes trace sewe
For to ȝowre beaute & counterfete fresshnesse
Owre rympled age seithe farewel adiewe.

XXVI

Dethe to the Bysshoppe

Mi lorde Sire Bisshop with ȝowre mitre & crose
For al ȝowre riches sotheli I ensure
For al ȝowre tresowre so longe kepte in clos
Ȝowre worldli godes & godes of nature
And of ȝowre shepe the gostli dredeful cure
With charge comytted to ȝowre prelacie
For to accounte ȝe shul be browȝt to lure
No wight is sure that clymbeth ouer hye.

XXVII

The Bysshop answereth

Mi herte trewly is nowether glad ne meri
Of sodeyne tidinges whiche that ȝe bringe
Mi festes turned in to simple ferie
That for discomforte me liste no thyng synge
The worlde contrarie now to me In werkynge
That al folkes can so disherite
He that al with-halte allas atte owre partynge
And al shal passe safe oneli owre merite.

XXVIII

Dethe to the Squyere

Come forthe Sire Squyer right fressh of ȝowre arai
That can of daunces al the newe gyse
Thowȝ ȝe bare armes fressh horsed ȝisterdai
With spere & shelde atte ȝowre vncouthe deuyse

And t[o]ke on ȝow so many hye Emprise
Daunceth with vs hit wille no better be
Ther is no sokoure in no maner wise
For no man mai fro dethes stroke fle.

XXIX

The Squyere answereth

Sitthen that dethe me holdeth in his lace
Ȝitte shal I speke oo worde or I pace
Adieu al myrthe adieu [now] al solace
Adieu my ladyes somme-tyme so fressh of face
Adieu beaute plesaun[ce] & solace
Of dethes chaunge eueri dai is pryme
Thynketh [o]n ȝowre sowles or that deth manace
For al shal rote & no man wote what tyme.

XXX

Dethe to the Abbott

Come forthe Sire Abbot with ȝowre brode hatte
[B]e[e]th not abasshed though ȝe haue right
Grete is ȝowre hede ȝowr beli large & fatte
Ȝe mote come daunce thowȝ ȝe be nothing light
Leve[th] ȝowre abbei to somme other wight
Ȝowre eire [is] of age ȝowre state to occupie
Who that is fattest I haue hym be-hight
In his graue shal sonnest putrefie.

XXXI

The abbot answereth

Of thi [th]retis haue I noon envie
That I shal now leue al gouernaunce
But that I shal as a cloistre[r] deie
This dothe to me passynge grete greuaunce
Mi liberte nor my grete habundaunce
What mai a-vaile in eny maner wyse
Ȝitte axe I merci with hertli repentaunce
Though yn diynge to late men hem a-vise.

XXXII

Dethe to the Abbesse

And ȝe my ladi Jentel dame abbesse
With ȝowre mantels furred large & wide
Ȝowre veile ȝowre wimple passyng of grete richesse
And beddes softe ȝe mote now leyne a-side
For to this daunce I shal be ȝowre gide
Thowgh ȝe be tender & borne of Jentille blode
While that ȝe lyve for ȝowre selfe prouyde
For after deth no man hathe no gode.

XXXIII

The Abbesse answereth

Allas that dethe hathe thus for me ordeyned
That yn no wise I mai hit not declyne
Thowgh hit so be ful ofte I haue constreyned
Breste & throte my notes owte to twyne
Mi chekes rounde vernysshed for to shyne
Ungirte ful ofte to walke atte large
Thus cruel dethe dothe al estates fyne
Who hath no ship mote rowe yn bote or barge.

XXXIV

Dethe to the Baylly

Come forthe Sire Bailli that knewe al the gise
Bi ȝowre office of trewthe & rightwisnesse
Ȝe moste come to a newe assise
Extorcions & wronges to redresse
Ȝe ben sommened as lawe bitte expresse
To ȝefe a-comptes the Juge wille ȝow charge
Whiche hathe ordeyned to exclude al falsnesse
That eueri man schal bere his owne charge.

XXXV

The Baylly answereth

O thou lorde god this is an harde Journe
To whiche a-forne I toke but litel hede
Mi chaun[c]e is turned & that forthynketh me
Some-tyme with Juges what me liste to spede
Lai yn my myȝte be favoure or for mede
But sitthen ther is no rescuse be bataile
I holde hym wise that coude see yn dede
Aȝen dethe that noon appele mai vaile.

XXXVI

Dethe to the Astronomere

Come forthe maister that loken vp so ferre
With instrumentis of astronomy
To take the grees & hight of eueri sterre
What mai a-vaile al ȝowre astrologie
Sith [of] Adam alle the genelegye
Made firste of god to walke vp-on the grounde
Dethe dothe a-reste thus seieth theologie
And al schal dye for an appil rounde.

XXXVII

The Astronomere anwereth

For al my crafte cunnynge or science
I can not fynde no provisioun
Ne yn the sterres serche owte no defence
Be domefyinge nor calculacioun
Saue finyalli in conclusioun
For to discryue owre cunnynge euery dele
Ther is no more be sentence of resoun
Who lyueth a-right mote nedes dye wele.

XXXVIII

Dethe to the Burgeys

Sire Burgeys what do ȝe lenger tarie
For al ȝowre aver & ȝowre grete richesse
Thowgh ȝe be straunge deynous & contrarie
To this daunce ȝe mote ȝow nedes dresse

For ȝowre tresoure plente & largesse
From other hit came & shal vn-to straungeres
He is a fole that yn soche besynesse
Wote not for hom he stuffeth his garneres.

XXXIX

The Burgeys answereth

Certes to me hit is grete displesauns
To leue al this & mai hit not assure
Howses rentes tresoure & substauns
Dethe al fordothe suche is his nature
There-fore wise is no creature
That sette [h]is herte on gode that mote disseuere
The worlde hit lente & he wille hit recure
And w[h]o moste hathe [l]othest dieth euer.

XL

Dethe to the Chanoun

And ȝe Sire Chanoun with many grete prebende
Ȝe mai no lenger haue distribucioun
Of golde & siluer largeli to dispende
For ther is now no consolacioun
But daunce with vs for al ȝowre hye renoun
For ȝe of dethe stonde vp on the brinke
Ȝe mai ther of haue no dilacioun
Dethe cometh ai when men leste on hym thenke.

XLI

The Chanoun answereth

Mi benefices with many a personage
God wote ful lite mai me now comforte
Dethe hathe of me so grete a-vantage
Al my richesse mai me not disporte
Amys o[f] gris thei wille aȝen resorte
Vnto the worlde surplus & prebende
Al is veyneglorie treuli to reporte
To dei welle eche man shulde entende.

XLII

Dethe to the Marchaunde

Ȝe riche marchaunt ȝe mote loke hiderwarde
That passed haue ful many dyuerse londe
On hors on fote hauyng moste rewarde
To lucre & wynnynge as I vndurstonde
But now to daunce ȝe mote ȝeue me ȝowre honde
For al ȝowre laboure ful litel a-vaileth now
A-dieu veyneglorie bothe of fre and bonde
No[ne] more coueite than thei that haue ynow.

XLIII

The Marchaunte answereth

Be many an hille and many [a] straunge vale
I haue trauailed with my marchaundise
Ouer the see do carye many a bale
To sundri Iles mo than I can deuyse
Myn herte inwarde ai frette with couetise
But al for nowght now dethe [dothe] me constreyne
Be whiche I seie be recorde of the wise
Who al embraceth litel schal restreyne.

XLIV

Dethe to the Chartereux

Gefe me ȝowre honde with chekes dede & pale
Caused of wacche & longe abstinence
Sire Chartereux & ȝowre selfe a-vale
Vn-to this daunce with humble pacience
To stryue aȝen mai be no resistence
Lenger to lyve sette not ȝowre memorie
Thowgh I be lothsome as yn apparence
Above al men deth hath the victorie.

XLV

The Chartereux answereth

Vn to the worlde I was dede longe a-gon
Be my ordre and my professioun
Thowgh eueri man be he neuer so stronge
Dredeth to dye be kyndeli mocioun
After his flessheli Inclynacioun
But plese hit to god my sowle for to borowe
From fendes myȝt & fro dampnacioun
Somme ben to dai that shul not be to morowe.

XLVI

Dethe to the Sergeaunt

Come forthe Sire Sergeaunt with ȝowr stateli mace
Make no defence ne no rebellioun
Not may availe to grucche in this cace
Thowgh ȝe be deynous of condicioun
For nowther peele ne proteccioun
Mai ȝow fraunchise to do nature wronge
For ther is noon so sturdi Champioun
Thowgh he be myȝti a-nother is as stronge.

XLVII

The Sergeant answereth

How dar this dethe sette on me a-reste
That am the kynges chosen officere
Whiche ȝesterdai bothe este & weste
Myn office dede ful surquedous of chere

But now this dai I am a-rested here
And mai not fle thowgh I had hit sworne
Eche man is lothe to dye ferre and nere
That hath not lerned for to dye a-forne.

XLVIII

Dethe to the Monk

Sire monke also with ȝowre blake abite
Ȝe mai no lenger holde here soioure
Ther is no thinge that mai ȝow here respite
Aȝeyn my myght ȝow for to do socoure
Ȝe mote accounte towchyng ȝowre laboure
How ȝe haue spente hit in dede worde & thowght
To erthe and asshes turneth eueri floure
The life of man is but a thynge of nowght.

XLIX

The Monk answereth

I had leuere in [the] cloystre be
Atte my boke and studie my seruice
Whiche is a place contemplatif to se
But I haue spente my life in many vise
Liche as a fole dissolute and nyce
God of his merci graunte me repentaunce
Be chere owtewarde harde to deuyce
Al ben not meri whiche that men seen daunce.

L

Dethe to the Vsurere

Thow vserere loke vp & be-holde
Un to wynnynge thow settest al thi peyne
Whose couetise wexeth neuer colde
Thi gredi thruste so sore the dothe constreyne

But thow shalt neuer thi desire atteyne
Suche an etik thyn herte frete shal
That but of pite God his honde refreyne
Oo parilous stroke shal make the lese al.

LI

The Vsurere answereth

Now me behoueth sodeynly to dey
Whiche is to me grete peyne & grete greuaunce
Socowre to fynde I see no maner weie
Of golde ne siluer be no cheuisshaunce
Dethe thrugh his haste a-bitte no puruiaunce
Of folkes blynde that can not loke welle
Ful ofte happeth be kynde or fatal chaunce
Somme haue feyre yȝen that seen neuer a dele.

LII

[The pore man to þe Usurere]

Usure to god is ful grete offence
And in his sight a grete abusioun
The pore borweth par cas for Indigence
The riche lent be fals collucioun
Onli for lucre in his entencioun
Dethe shal hem bothe to accomptes fette
To make rekennynge be computacioun
No man is quytte that is be-hynde of dette.

LIII

Dethe to the Phisician

Maister of phisik whiche [o]n ȝowre vryne
So loke and gase & stare a-ȝenne the sunne
For al ȝowre crafte & studie of medicyne
Al the practik & science that ȝe cunne

Ȝowre lyues cours so ferforthe ys I-runne
Aȝeyne my myght ȝowre crafte mai not endure
For al the golde that ȝe ther-bi haue wonne
Good leche is he that can hym self recure.

LIV

The Phecissian answereth

Ful longe a-gon that I vn-to phesike
Sette my witte and my diligence
In speculatif & also in practike
To gete a name thurgh myn excellence
To fynde oute a-ȝens pestilence
Preseruatifes to staunche hit & to fyne
But I dar saie shortli in sentence
A-ȝens dethe is worth no medicyne.

LV

Dethe to the amerous Squyere

Þe that be Jentel so fresshe & amerous
Of ȝeres ȝonge flowryng in ȝowre grene age
Lusti fre of herte and eke desyrous
Ful of deuyses and chaunge yn ȝowre corage
Plesaunt of porte of loke & [of] visage
But al shal turne in to asshes dede
For al beaute is but a feynte ymage
Whiche steleth a-wai or folkes can take hede.

LVI

The Squyer answereth

Allas allas I can now no socoure
A-ȝeyns dethe for my selfe prouyde
Adieu of ȝowthe the lusti fressh floure
Adieu veynglorie [of bewte and of pride]

Adieu al seruyse of the god cupide
Adieu my ladyes so fresshe so wel be-seyne
For a-ȝeyne dethe no thynge mai abide
And wyndes grete gon doune with litel reyne

LVII

Dethe to the Gentilwoman amerous

Come forthe Maistresse of ȝeres ȝonge & grene
Whiche holde ȝowre self of beaute souereyne
As feire as ȝe was sum tyme pollicene
Penelope and the quene Eleyne
Ȝitte on this daunce thei wenten bothe tweyne
And so shul ȝe for al ȝowre straungenesse
Though daunger longe yn loue hathe lad ȝow reyne
A-rested is ȝowre chaunge of dowblenesse.

LVIII

The Jentilwoman answereth

O cruel dethe that sparest noon a-state
To olde and ȝonge thow arte indefferente
To my beaute thou haste I-seide checke-mate
So hasti is thi mortal Jugemente
For yn my ȝowthe this was myn entente
To my seruyce many a man to a lured
But she is a fole shortli yn sentemente
That in her beaute is to moche assured.

LIX

Dethe to the man of lawe

Sire aduocate shorte processe for to make
Ȝe mote come plete a-fore the hye Juge
Many a quarel ȝe haue vndurtake
And for lucre to do folke refuge
But my fraunchise is so large & huge
That counceile noon a-vaile mai but trouth
He skapeth wyseli of dethe the grete deluge
To-fore the dome who is not teynte with slouth.

LX

The mon of law answereth

Of right and resoun be natures lawe
I can [not] put a-ȝen dethe no defence
Ne be no sleyght me kepe ne with-drawe
For al my witte and [my] grete prudence
To make appele from his dredeful sentence
No thyng yn erthe mai a man preserue
A-ȝeyne his myght to make resistence
God quyte al men liche as thei deserue.

LXI

Dethe to the Jouroure

Maister ioroure whiche that atte assise
And atte shires questes doste embrace
Depart[ist] londe like to thy deuyse
And who moste ȝaf moste stode yn thi grace
The pore man loste londe and place
For golde thow [cow]dest folke disherite
But now lete see with thi teynte face
To-fore the Juge howe thow cannest the quyte.

LXII

The Joroure answereth

Somme tyme I was cleped yn my Cuntre
The belle wedyr and that was not a lite
Not loued but drad of hye & lowe degre
For whom me liste be crafte y coude endite
And hange the trewe & the thief respite
Al the cuntre be my worde was lad
But y dar sei shortli for to write
Of my dethe many a man is glad.

LXIII

Dethe to the Mynstralle

O thow Minstral that cannest so note & pipe
Un-to folkes for to do plesaunce
By the right honde [anoone] I shal the gripe
With these other to go vp-on my daunce
Ther is no scape nowther a-voydaunce
On no side to contrarie my sentence
For yn musik be crafte & accordaunce
Who maister is shew his science.

LXIV

The Mynstral answereth

This newe daunce is to me so straunge
Wonder dyuerse and passyngli contrarie
The dredful fotyng dothe so ofte chaunge
And the mesures so ofte sithes varie
Whiche now to me is no thyng necessarie
Ȝif hit were so that I myght asterte
But many a man ȝif I shal not tarie
Ofte daunceth but no thynge of herte.

LXV

Dethe to the Tregetoure

Maister Jon Rikelle some tyme tregetowre
Of nobille harry kynge of Ingelonde
And of Fraunce the myghti Conquerowre
For alle the sleightes and turnyng of thyn honde
Thow moste come nere this daunce to vndurstonde
Nowȝt mai a-vaile alle thi conclusiouns
For dethe shortli nowther on see ne londe
Is not deceyued be noon illusiouns.

LXVI

The tregetour answereth

What mai a-vaile Maugik natural
Or any crafte shewed be apparence
Or cours of sterres aboue celestial
Or of the heuene al the Influence
A-ȝens dethe to stonde atte defence
Legerdemeyn now helpeth me right nowght
Fare welle my crafte and al soche sapience
For dethe mo maistries ȝitte than y hathe wrowght.

LXVII

Dethe to the Persoun

O Sire Curate that ben here now present
That had ȝowre worldli Inclynacioun
Ȝowre herte entier ȝowre study & entent
Moste on ȝowre tithes & oblacioun
Whiche shulde haue ben of conuersacioun
Mirroure vn-to other light & exaumplarie
Like ȝowre deserte shal be ȝowre guerdoun
And to eche laboure due is the salarie.

LXVIII

The Persun answereth

Mawgre my wille I moste condescende
For dethe assaileth eueri lifli thynge
Here yn this worlde who can comprehende
His sodeyn stroke & his vnware comynge
Fare-wel tithes and fare-wel myn offrynge
I mote go Counte yn ordre by and by
[And for my shepe] make a Juste rekenynge
Whom he acquyteth I holde he is happi.

LXIX

Dethe to the Laborere

Thow laborere whiche yn sorow & peyne
Haste had thi life in ful grete trauaile
Thow moste eke daunce & ther fore not disdeyne
For ȝif thow do hit mai the not a-vaile
And cause whi that I the assaile
Is wonli this from the to disseuere
The fals worlde that can so folke faile
He is a fole that weneth to lyve euere.

LXX

The Laborere answereth

I haue wisshed after dethe ful ofte
Al-be that I wolde haue fled hym nowe
I had leuere to haue leyne vnsofte
In wynde & reyne & haue gon atte plowe
With spade & pikeys and labored for my prowe
Dolue & diched & atte Carte goon
For I mai sey & telle playnli howe
In this worlde here ther is reste noon.

LXXI

Dethe to the Frere menour

Sire Cordelere to ȝow my hande is rawght
To this daunce ȝow to conueie ande lede
Whiche yn ȝowre prechynge hau ful ofte tawght
How [þat] I am moste gastful for to drede
Al-be that folke take ther of none hede
Ȝitte is ther noon so stronge ne so hardi
But dethe dar reste and lette for no mede
For dethe eche owre is present & redy.

LXXII

The Frere answereth

What mai this be that yn this world no man
Here to a-bide mai haue no seuerte
Strengh richesse ne what so that he can
Wordly wisdom al is but vanyte
In grete astate ne yn pouerte
Is no thynge founde that mai fro dethe defende
For whiche I sei to hye & lowe degre
Wise is that synner that dothe his lif a-mende.

LXXIII

Dethe to the Chylde

Litel Enfaunt that were but late borne
Schape yn this worlde to haue no plesaunce
Thow moste with other that gon here to forne
Be lad yn haste be fatal ordynaunce

Lerne of newe to go on my daunce
Ther mai non age a-scape yn sothe ther fro
Late eueri wight haue this yn remembraunce
Who lengest leueth moste shal suffre wo.

LXXIV

The Chylde answereth

A a a a worde I can not speke
I am so ȝonge I was bore ȝisterdai
Dethe is so hasti on me to be wreke
And liste no lenger to make no delai
I cam but now and now I go my wai
Of me no more no tale shal be tolde
The wille of god no man with-stonde mai
As sone dyeth a ȝonge man as an olde.

LXXV

Dethe to the Clerke

O ȝe [Sir] Clerke suppose ȝe to be fre
Fro my daunce or ȝowre selfe defende
That wende haue risen vn-to hye degre
Of benefices or somme grete prebende
Who clymbeth hyest somme-tyme shal dessende
Lete no man grucche a-ȝens his fortune
But take yn gre what [euer god] hym sende
Whiche punyssheth al whan tyme is oportune.

LXXVI

The Clerke answereth

Shal I that am so ȝonge a Clerke now deye
Fro my seruyse and haue no bette guerdoun
Is there no geyne ne noon better weye
No sure fraunchise ne proteccioun
Dethe maketh al weie a short conclusioun
To late ware whan men ben on the brynke
The worlde shal faile and al possessioun
For moche faileth of thynge that foles thynke.

LXXVII

Dethe to the Ermyte

Ȝe that haue lyued longe yn wildernesse
And there contynued longe yn abstynence
Atte laste ȝitte ȝe mote ȝow dresse
Of my daunce to haue experience
For ther-aȝeyne is no resistence
Take now leue of thyn Ermytage
Where-fore eche man aduerte this sentence
That this life here is no sure Eritage.

LXXVIII

The Ermyte answereth

LIfe yn deserte callid solitarie
Mai a-ȝeyne dethe haue respite noon ne space
Atte vnsette owre his comyng dothe not tarie
And for my parte welcome be goddes grace
Thankyng hym with humble chere & face
Of al his ȝiftes and grete habundaunce
Fynalli affermyng yn this place
No man is riche that lacketh suffisaunce.

LXXIX

Dethe a-ȝen to the Ermyte

That is welle seyde & thus shulde euery wight
Thanke his god and al his wittes dresse
To loue and drede hym with al his herte & myght
Setth dethe to a-scape mai be no sekernesse
As men deserue god quytte of rightwisnesse
To riche and pore vp-on eueri side
A better lessoun ther can no Clerke expresse
Than til to morowe is no man sure to a-bide.

LXXX

The kynge liggyng dede & eten with wormes

Ȝe folke that loken vpon this purtrature
Beholdyng here alle the estates daunce
Seeth what ȝe ben & what is ȝowre nature
Mete vnto wormes not elles yn substaunce
And haue this myrroure euer yn remembraunce
[H]ow I lye here som-tyme crowned kynge
To al estates a trewe resemblaunce
That wormes fode is fyne of owre lyuynge.

LXXXI

Machabre the Doctoure

Man is nowght elles platli for to thenke
But as a wynde whiche is transitorie
Passyng ay forthe whether he wake or wynke
Towarde this daunce haue this yn memorie
Remembr[ing]e ay ther is [no] bette victory
In this life here than fle synne atte leste
Than shul ȝe reigne yn Paradyse with glorie
Happi is he that maketh yn heuene his feste.

LXXXII

Ȝitte ther be folke mo than sixe or seuene
Reckeles of life yn many maner wyse
Like as ther were helle noon ne heuene
Suche fals errowre lete eueri man despice
For holi seyntes & olde Clerkes wise
Writen contrarie her falsnes to deface
To lyue welle take this for beste Emprise
Is moche worthe when men shul hennes pace.

LXXXIII

Lenvoye de translatoure

O ȝe my lordes and maistres al in fere
Of a-venture that shal this daunce [r]ede
Loweli I preye with al myn herte entere
To correcte where as ȝe see nede
For nowght elles I aske for my mede
But godeli supporte of this translacioun
And with fauowre to soupewaile drede
Benyngneli in ȝowre correccioun.

LXXXIV

Owte of the frensshe I drowe hit of entent
Not worde be worde but folwyng the substaunce
And fro Paris to Inglond hit sent
Oneli of purpose ȝow to do plesaunce
Rude of langage y was not borne yn fraunce
Haue me excused my name is Jon Lidgate
Of her tunge I haue no suffisaunce
Her corious metris In Inglissh to translate.

Amen.