 | Songs and carols from a manuscript in the British Museum of the fifteenth century |  |
SONGS AND CAROLS.
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II. Now bething the, gentilman,
How Adam dalf and Eve span.
In the vale of Abraham
Cryst hym self he made Adam,
And of his rybbe a fayr womman,
And thus this semly word began.
Cryst hym self he made Adam,
And of his rybbe a fayr womman,
And thus this semly word began.
“Cum, Adam, and thou xalt se
The blysse of paradis that is so fre;
Therin stant an appil-tre,
Lef and frewt growit theron.
The blysse of paradis that is so fre;
Therin stant an appil-tre,
Lef and frewt growit theron.
Adam, if thou this appil ete,
Alle these joyis thou xalt forȝete,
And the peynis of helle gete.”
Thus God hym self warnid Adam.
Alle these joyis thou xalt forȝete,
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Thus God hym self warnid Adam.
Quan God was fro Adam gon,
Sone after cam the fend anon;
A fals tretour he was on,
He tok the tre, and krep theron.
Sone after cam the fend anon;
A fals tretour he was on,
He tok the tre, and krep theron.
“Quat eylyt the, Adam, art thou wod?
Thi lord haȝt tawt the lytil good,
He wolde not thou understod
Of the wyttes that he can.
Thi lord haȝt tawt the lytil good,
He wolde not thou understod
Of the wyttes that he can.
Tak the appil of the tre,
And ete therof, I bidde the,
And alle hese joyis thou xalt se,
Fro the he xal hedyn non.”
And ete therof, I bidde the,
And alle hese joyis thou xalt se,
Fro the he xal hedyn non.”
Quan Adam hadde that appil ete,
Alle hese joyis wern forȝete,
Non word more myȝt he speke,
He stod as nakyd as a ston.
Alle hese joyis wern forȝete,
Non word more myȝt he speke,
He stod as nakyd as a ston.
Than cam an aungil with a swerd,
And drof Adam into a disert;
Ther was Adam sore aferd,
For labour coude he werkyn non.
And drof Adam into a disert;
Ther was Adam sore aferd,
For labour coude he werkyn non.
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III. Alle maydenis, for Godes grace,
Worchepe ȝe seynt Nicolas.
Seynt Nicholas was of gret posté,
For he worchepid maydenis thre,
That wer sent in fer cuntré
Common wommen for to be.
For he worchepid maydenis thre,
That wer sent in fer cuntré
Common wommen for to be.
Here fader was man in powre aray,
Onto his dowteres he gan say,
“Dowteres, ȝe must away,
Non lenger kepe ȝou I may.
Onto his dowteres he gan say,
“Dowteres, ȝe must away,
Non lenger kepe ȝou I may.
Dowteres, myn blyssing I ȝou ȝeve,
For catel wil not with me thryve,
ȝe must with ȝowre body leve,
ȝour wordeȝe must dryve.”
For catel wil not with me thryve,
ȝe must with ȝowre body leve,
ȝour wordeȝe must dryve.”
The eldest dowter swor, be bred of qwete,
“I have levere beggyn myn mete,
And getyn me good qwer I may gete,
Than ledyn myn lyf in lecherie.”
“I have levere beggyn myn mete,
And getyn me good qwer I may gete,
Than ledyn myn lyf in lecherie.”
The medil dowter seyde, so mote che the,
“I hadde levere hangyd and drawyd be
With wylde hors to or thre,
Than ledin myn lyf in lecherie.”
“I hadde levere hangyd and drawyd be
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Than ledin myn lyf in lecherie.”
The ȝongere lechery gan to spyse,
And preyid saynt Nicholas, as che was wise,
“Saynt Nicholas, as he was wyse,
Help us fro lecherie.”
And preyid saynt Nicholas, as che was wise,
“Saynt Nicholas, as he was wyse,
Help us fro lecherie.”
Saynt Nicholas, at the townys ende,
Consoylid tho maydenis hom to wynde,
And throw Godes grace he xulde hem synde
Husbondes thre good and kind.
Consoylid tho maydenis hom to wynde,
And throw Godes grace he xulde hem synde
Husbondes thre good and kind.
IV. God that alle mytes may,
Helpe us at our ending daye.
This word, lordingges, I understonde,
May be lyknyd to an husbonde,
That taket a ferme into his honde
To ȝelde therof serteyn pay.
May be lyknyd to an husbonde,
That taket a ferme into his honde
To ȝelde therof serteyn pay.
Spende we neyther speche ne spylle,
Neyther for good ne for ille,
We xuln ȝevyn acountes grylle
Beforn our Lord on domys daye.
Neyther for good ne for ille,
We xuln ȝevyn acountes grylle
Beforn our Lord on domys daye.
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Leve lordynges, be war of this,
For oftyn tyme we don amys,
Ther is non of us i-wys
But that we trespasyn every day.
For oftyn tyme we don amys,
Ther is non of us i-wys
But that we trespasyn every day.
This word, lordynges, is but a farye,
It faryt ryȝt as a neysche weye,
That now is wet and now is dreye,
For sothe serteyn, as I ȝou say.
It faryt ryȝt as a neysche weye,
That now is wet and now is dreye,
For sothe serteyn, as I ȝou say.
Now is joye and now is blys,
Now is balle and bitternesse;
Now it is, and now it nys;
Thus pasyt this word away.
Now is balle and bitternesse;
Now it is, and now it nys;
Thus pasyt this word away.
Now I hope and now I synge,
Now I daunce, now I sprynge,
Now I weyle and now I wrynge,
Now is wel, and now is way.
Now I daunce, now I sprynge,
Now I weyle and now I wrynge,
Now is wel, and now is way.
Now I hoppe and now I daunce,
Now I preke and now I praunce;
This day heyl, te morwe perchaunce
We mown be ded and ley in clay.
Now I preke and now I praunce;
This day heyl, te morwe perchaunce
We mown be ded and ley in clay.
At domis day quan we xul ryse,
And come beforn our heye justyse,
And ȝevyn acountes of our servise,
And payin up our laste pay,
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And ȝevyn acountes of our servise,
And payin up our laste pay,
Help us, Mary, for than is nede;
Help to excusyn our misdede,
As thou art monewere at our nede,
Help us than, and sey not nay.
Help to excusyn our misdede,
As thou art monewere at our nede,
Help us than, and sey not nay.
V. O flos de Jesse virgula,
Laus tibi sit et gloria.
Adam our fader was in blis,
And for an appil of lytil prys
He loste the blysse of paradys,
Pro sua superbia.
And for an appil of lytil prys
He loste the blysse of paradys,
Pro sua superbia.
And alle that evere of hym cam
The ryth weye to helle nam,
Bothe Ysaac and Abraham,
Teste profecia.
The ryth weye to helle nam,
Bothe Ysaac and Abraham,
Teste profecia.
Than these profetes prechyd aforn,
That a chyld xuld be born
To beye that Adam hadde forlorn,
Sua morte propria.
That a chyld xuld be born
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Sua morte propria.
Moyses ferst in his lawe told
A chyld ther xuld be born so bold,
To beye aȝyn that Adam sold,
Sua nocte pessima.
A chyld ther xuld be born so bold,
To beye aȝyn that Adam sold,
Sua nocte pessima.
Isaac withoute lesyng
Profeciid in his prechyng
Of Jesse rote a flour xuld spryng
De virgine purica.
Profeciid in his prechyng
Of Jesse rote a flour xuld spryng
De virgine purica.
Jeromy, that was so ȝyng,
Profecyid of his comyng,
That is veri lord and kyng,
Summi patris gracia.
Profecyid of his comyng,
That is veri lord and kyng,
Summi patris gracia.
Ferthere more, as I ȝou telle,
Than profecyid Danyelle,
Of hys comyng he gan spelle,
Gentibus in Judea.
Than profecyid Danyelle,
Of hys comyng he gan spelle,
Gentibus in Judea.
Quan tyme cam of God almyȝt,
That wolde brynge mankynde to ryȝt,
In a maydyn he gan lyȝt,
Que vocatur Maria.
That wolde brynge mankynde to ryȝt,
In a maydyn he gan lyȝt,
Que vocatur Maria.
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Now is he born, that blysful chyld,
Of Mary moder mayde myld,
Fro the fynd he us schyld,
Qui creavit omnia.
Of Mary moder mayde myld,
Fro the fynd he us schyld,
Qui creavit omnia.
Prey we to hym with al our mynde,
That haȝt mad al mankynde,
He brynge us alle to good ende,
In die novissima.
That haȝt mad al mankynde,
He brynge us alle to good ende,
In die novissima.
VI. Eya, Jhesus hodie
Natus est de virgine.
Blyssid be that mayde Mary,
Born he was of here body,
Godis sone that syttit on hy,
Non ex virili semine.
Born he was of here body,
Godis sone that syttit on hy,
Non ex virili semine.
In a manjour of an as
Jhesu lay and lullyd was,
Harde peynis for to pas,
Pro peccante homine.
Jhesu lay and lullyd was,
Harde peynis for to pas,
Pro peccante homine.
Kynges comyn fro dyvesse londe,
With grete ȝyftes in here honde,
In Bedlem the child they fonde,
Stella ducte lumine.
With grete ȝyftes in here honde,
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Stella ducte lumine.
Man and chyld bothe eld and ying,
Now in his blysful comyng,
To that chyld mow we syng,
Gloria tibi, Domine.
Now in his blysful comyng,
To that chyld mow we syng,
Gloria tibi, Domine.
Nowel, nowel in this halle,
Make merye, I prey ȝou alle,
Onto the chyld may we calle,
Ullo sine crimine.
Make merye, I prey ȝou alle,
Onto the chyld may we calle,
Ullo sine crimine.
VII. Gay, gay, gay, gay,
Think on drydful domis day.
Every day thou myȝt lere,
To helpe thi self qwil thou art here,
Quan thou art ded and leyd on bere,
Cryst help thi sowle, for thou ne may.
To helpe thi self qwil thou art here,
Quan thou art ded and leyd on bere,
Cryst help thi sowle, for thou ne may.
Thynk, man, on thi wyttes fyve,
Do sum good qwyl thou art on lyve;
Go to cherche, and do the schryve,
And bryng thi sowle in good aray.
Do sum good qwyl thou art on lyve;
Go to cherche, and do the schryve,
And bryng thi sowle in good aray.
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Thynk, man, on thi synnys sevene,
Think how merie it is in hevene;
Prey to God with mylde stefne,
To be thin helpe on domys day.
Think how merie it is in hevene;
Prey to God with mylde stefne,
To be thin helpe on domys day.
Loke that thou non thing stere,
Ne non fals wytnesse bere;
Thynk how Cryst was stunge with spere,
Quan he deyid on good Fryday.
Ne non fals wytnesse bere;
Thynk how Cryst was stunge with spere,
Quan he deyid on good Fryday.
Loke that thou ne sle non man,
Ne do non foly with non womman;
Thynk the blod from Jhesu ran,
Quan he deyid withoutyn nay.
Ne do non foly with non womman;
Thynk the blod from Jhesu ran,
Quan he deyid withoutyn nay.
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IX. Jhesu, Jhesu, Jhesu, Jhesu,
Saf us alle thorw thi vertu.
Jhesu, as thou art our savyour,
That thou save us fro dolour;
Jhesu is myn paramour;
Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu.
That thou save us fro dolour;
Jhesu is myn paramour;
Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu.
Jhesu was born of a may,
Upon Cristemesse day,
Sche was may beforn and ay;
Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu.
Upon Cristemesse day,
Sche was may beforn and ay;
Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu.
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Thre kynges comen fro segent,
To Jhesu Cryst they browte present;
Lord God omnipotent,
Saf us alle throw thy vertue.
To Jhesu Cryst they browte present;
Lord God omnipotent,
Saf us alle throw thy vertue.
Jhesu deyid and schad his blod
For al mankynde upon the rod;
He graunt us grace of happis good,
I beseke the, swete Jhesu.
For al mankynde upon the rod;
He graunt us grace of happis good,
I beseke the, swete Jhesu.
Jhesu, for thy moderes sake,
Kepe us fro the fyndis blake,
Aȝens hym that we mown wake;
And save us alle throw thi vertu.
Kepe us fro the fyndis blake,
Aȝens hym that we mown wake;
And save us alle throw thi vertu.
X. Now go gyle, gyle, gyle,
Now go gile, gyle, go.
Gyle and gold togedere arn met,
Coveytyse be hym is set,
Now haȝt gyle leyd his net,
To gyle bothe frynd and fo.
Coveytyse be hym is set,
Now haȝt gyle leyd his net,
To gyle bothe frynd and fo.
Ther is non man worȝt a schelle,
But he cun plete with wryt or bylle,
His neybowres for to spylle,
And othere men to werkyn wo.
But he cun plete with wryt or bylle,
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And othere men to werkyn wo.
Coweytise in herte is lent,
Ryȝt and resoun awey is went;
Man, be war thou be not schent,
Gyle wil thy herte slo.
Ryȝt and resoun awey is went;
Man, be war thou be not schent,
Gyle wil thy herte slo.
Now haȝt gyle get hym gre,
Bothe in town and in ceté,
Gyle goth with gret mené,
With men of lawe and othere mo.
Bothe in town and in ceté,
Gyle goth with gret mené,
With men of lawe and othere mo.
Trewthe hevene mot he wynne,
Gyle xal in helle brenne;
He that made al mankynde,
Amend hem that mys han do.
Gyle xal in helle brenne;
He that made al mankynde,
Amend hem that mys han do.
XI. Syng we alle and sey we thus,
Gramersy myn owyn purs.
Quan I have in myn purs i-now,
I may have bothe hors and plow,
And also fryndis i-now,
Throw the vertu of myn purs.
I may have bothe hors and plow,
And also fryndis i-now,
Throw the vertu of myn purs.
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Quan my purs gynnyȝt to slak,
And ther is nowt in my pak,
They wil seyn, “Go, far wil, Jak,
Thou xalt non more drynke with us.”
And ther is nowt in my pak,
They wil seyn, “Go, far wil, Jak,
Thou xalt non more drynke with us.”
Thus is al myn good i-lorn,
And myn purs al totorn,
I may pleyine with an horn,
In the stede al of myn purs.
And myn purs al totorn,
I may pleyine with an horn,
In the stede al of myn purs.
Far wil, hors, and far wil, cow,
Far wil, carte, and far wil, plow;
As I pleyid me with a bow,
I seyd, “God, quat is al this?”
Far wil, carte, and far wil, plow;
As I pleyid me with a bow,
I seyd, “God, quat is al this?”
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XIV. Man, be war, be war, be war,
And kep the that thou have no car.
Thi tunge is mad of fleych and blod,
Evele to spekyn it is not good,
But Cryst, that deyid upon the rood,
So ȝyf us grace our tunge to spare.
Evele to spekyn it is not good,
But Cryst, that deyid upon the rood,
So ȝyf us grace our tunge to spare.
Thi lyppis arn withoute bon;
Spek non evyl of thi fon;
Man, I rede, be seynt Jon,
Of evyl speche that thou be war.
Spek non evyl of thi fon;
Man, I rede, be seynt Jon,
Of evyl speche that thou be war.
Quan thou seyst thi evyl seying,
Be it of eld, be it of ȝyng,
Among many men thi speche may spring,
And make thin herte of blysse ful bare.
Be it of eld, be it of ȝyng,
Among many men thi speche may spring,
And make thin herte of blysse ful bare.
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Therfore I telle the, be seynt Austyn,
Ther xal non man of evele speche wyn
But sorwe and schame and moche syn,
And to his herte meche care.
Ther xal non man of evele speche wyn
But sorwe and schame and moche syn,
And to his herte meche care.
Prey we to God and seynt Margerete,
That we mown our tunges kepe,
Qwether we wake or slepe,
And our body fro evele fare.
That we mown our tunges kepe,
Qwether we wake or slepe,
And our body fro evele fare.
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XVI. I drukke, I dare, so wil I may,
Quan I thynke on myn endyng day.
I am a chyld, and born ful bare,
And bare out of this word xal fare;
ȝyt am I but wermys ware,
Thow I clothis go never so gay.
And bare out of this word xal fare;
ȝyt am I but wermys ware,
Thow I clothis go never so gay.
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Thow I be of meche prys,
Fayr of face, and holdyn wys,
Myn fleych xal fadyn as flour-de-lys,
Quan I am ded and leyd in clay.
Fayr of face, and holdyn wys,
Myn fleych xal fadyn as flour-de-lys,
Quan I am ded and leyd in clay.
Quan I am ded and leyd in ston,
I xal rotyn fleych and bon,
Fro myn fryndys I xal gon;
Cryst help myn sowle quan I ne may.
I xal rotyn fleych and bon,
Fro myn fryndys I xal gon;
Cryst help myn sowle quan I ne may.
Quan I xal al my frendes forsake,
Cryst schyld me fro the fendes blake;
To Jhesu Cryst my sowle I betake,
He be our help on domys day.
Cryst schyld me fro the fendes blake;
To Jhesu Cryst my sowle I betake,
He be our help on domys day.
XVII. Gay, gay, to be gay,
I holde it but a vanite.
Ȝyng men that bern hem so gay,
They think not on domys day,
Quan they xul stonde in powre aray,
And for here dedes damnyd be.
They think not on domys day,
Quan they xul stonde in powre aray,
And for here dedes damnyd be.
God that made se and sond,
With blody woundis he xal stond,
“Come ȝe alle on my ryȝt hond,
ȝe chylderin that han servyd me.”
With blody woundis he xal stond,
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ȝe chylderin that han servyd me.”
To wykkyd men Jhesu xal say,
“ȝe han led your lyf bothe nyȝt and day,
ȝour sowle into a wykkyd way,
Out of myn syte wynd ȝe.
“ȝe han led your lyf bothe nyȝt and day,
ȝour sowle into a wykkyd way,
Out of myn syte wynd ȝe.
Quan I was nakyd, ȝe me not clad;
Quan I was hungry, ȝe me not fad;
Quan I was in prisoun and harde bestad,
ȝe wold not visite me,
Quan I was hungry, ȝe me not fad;
Quan I was in prisoun and harde bestad,
ȝe wold not visite me,
Therfore myn chylderyn xuln han i-wys
That ilke joye, that ilke blys,
That arte haȝt ben, and alwey is,
Beforn myn angel fayr and fre.”
That ilke joye, that ilke blys,
That arte haȝt ben, and alwey is,
Beforn myn angel fayr and fre.”
XVIII. Be war, sqwyer, ȝeman, and page,
For servyse is non erytage.
If thou serve a lord of prys,
Be not to boystous in thin servys,
Damne not thin sowle in non wys,
For servyse is non erytage.
Be not to boystous in thin servys,
Damne not thin sowle in non wys,
For servyse is non erytage.
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Wynteris wether and wommanys thowt,
And lordis love, schaungit oft;
This is the sothe, if it be sowt,
For servyse, etc.
And lordis love, schaungit oft;
This is the sothe, if it be sowt,
For servyse, etc.
Now thu art gret, to morwe xal I,
As lordys schaungyn here baly;
In thin welthe werk sekyrly,
For, etc.
As lordys schaungyn here baly;
In thin welthe werk sekyrly,
For, etc.
Than serve we God in alle wyse,
He xal us quityn our servyse,
And ȝevyn us ȝyftes most of pryse,
Hevene to ben our erytage.
He xal us quityn our servyse,
And ȝevyn us ȝyftes most of pryse,
Hevene to ben our erytage.
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XX. Man, be war, er thou be wo,
Think on pride and let him goo.
Pryde is out, and pride is ine,
And pride is rot of every synne,
And pride wil never blynne,
Til he haȝt browt a man in woo.
And pride is rot of every synne,
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Til he haȝt browt a man in woo.
Lucyfer was aungyl bryȝt,
And conqwerour of meche myȝt;
Throw his pride he les his lyȝt,
And fil doun into endeles woo.
And conqwerour of meche myȝt;
Throw his pride he les his lyȝt,
And fil doun into endeles woo.
Wenyst thou for thi gaye clothing,
And for thin grete othis sweryng,
To be a lord or a kyng,
Lytil it xal avayle the too.
And for thin grete othis sweryng,
To be a lord or a kyng,
Lytil it xal avayle the too.
Quan thou xalt to cherche glyde,
Wermys xuln ete throw thi syde,
And lytil xal avayle thi pride,
Or ony synnys that thou hast doo.
Wermys xuln ete throw thi syde,
And lytil xal avayle thi pride,
Or ony synnys that thou hast doo.
Prey to Cryst, with blody syde,
And othere woundes grile and wide,
That he forȝeve the thi pride,
And thi synnys that thou hast doo.
And othere woundes grile and wide,
That he forȝeve the thi pride,
And thi synnys that thou hast doo.
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XXI. I may synge of a may,
Of joyis fyve and merthis most.
The ferste joye, as I ȝou telle,
With Mary met seynt Gabrielle,
“Heyl, Mary, I grete the welle,
With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost.”
With Mary met seynt Gabrielle,
“Heyl, Mary, I grete the welle,
With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost.”
The secunde joye, in good fay,
Was on Crystemesse day,
Born he was of a may,
With Fader, etc.
Was on Crystemesse day,
Born he was of a may,
With Fader, etc.
The thredde joye, withoutyn stryf,
That blysseful berthe was ful ryf,
Quan he ros fro ded to lyf,
With Fader, etc.
That blysseful berthe was ful ryf,
Quan he ros fro ded to lyf,
With Fader, etc.
The forte joye, in good fay,
Was upon halewyn thursday,
He stey to hevene in ryche aray,
With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost.
Was upon halewyn thursday,
He stey to hevene in ryche aray,
With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost.
The fyfte joye, withoutyn dene,
In hevene he crownyd his moder clene,
That was wol wil the eyr a sene,
With Fader, etc.
In hevene he crownyd his moder clene,
That was wol wil the eyr a sene,
With Fader, etc.
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XXII. Man, be war of thin wowyng,
For weddyng is the longe wo.
Loke, er thin herte be set,
Lok thou wowe er thou be knet;
And if thou se thou mow do bet,
Knet up the haltre and let here goo.
Lok thou wowe er thou be knet;
And if thou se thou mow do bet,
Knet up the haltre and let here goo.
Wyvys be bothe stowte and bolde,
Her husbondes aȝens hem durn not holde,
And if he do, his herte is colde,
How so evere the game go.
Her husbondes aȝens hem durn not holde,
And if he do, his herte is colde,
How so evere the game go.
Wedewis be wol fals i-wys,
For cum bothe halse and kys,
Til onys purs pikyd is,
And they seyn, Go, boy, goo.
For cum bothe halse and kys,
Til onys purs pikyd is,
And they seyn, Go, boy, goo.
Of madenys I wil seyn but lytil,
For they be bothe fals and fekyl,
And under the tayl they ben ful tekyl,
A twenty devele name, let hem goo.
For they be bothe fals and fekyl,
And under the tayl they ben ful tekyl,
A twenty devele name, let hem goo.
28
XXIII. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Salvator mundi, Domine,
Fader of hevene, blyssid thou be,
Thou gretyst a mayde with on ave,
Que vocatur Maria.
Fader of hevene, blyssid thou be,
Thou gretyst a mayde with on ave,
Que vocatur Maria.
Adesto nunc propicius,
Thou sendyst thi sone swete Jhesus,
Man to become for love of us,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Thou sendyst thi sone swete Jhesus,
Man to become for love of us,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Ne mentem sompnus oprimat,
Betwyx an ox and an as
Cryst hym self born he was
De virgine Maria.
Betwyx an ox and an as
Cryst hym self born he was
De virgine Maria.
Te reformator sensuum,
Bothe lytil and mekil and alle a[nd] sum
Wolcum the tyme that now is com,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Bothe lytil and mekil and alle a[nd] sum
Wolcum the tyme that now is com,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Gloria tibi, Domine,
Thre personys in trenyté,
Blyssid mot they alle be,
Deo patri sit gloria.
Thre personys in trenyté,
Blyssid mot they alle be,
Deo patri sit gloria.
29
XXIV. Nowel el el el el el el el el el el el,
Mary was gret with Gabriel.
Mary moder, meke and mylde,
Fro schame and synne that ȝe us schyllde,
For gret on grownd ȝe gon with childe,
Gabriele nuncio.
Fro schame and synne that ȝe us schyllde,
For gret on grownd ȝe gon with childe,
Gabriele nuncio.
Mary moder, be not adred,
Jhesu is in ȝour body bred,
And of ȝour bryst he wil be fed,
Cum pudoris lilio.
Jhesu is in ȝour body bred,
And of ȝour bryst he wil be fed,
Cum pudoris lilio.
Mary moder, the frewit of the
For us was naylid on a tre,
In hevene is now his majesté,
Fulget resurreccio.
For us was naylid on a tre,
In hevene is now his majesté,
Fulget resurreccio.
Mary moder, the thredde day
Up he ros, as I ȝow say,
To helle he tok the ryȝte way,
Motu fertur proprio.
Up he ros, as I ȝow say,
To helle he tok the ryȝte way,
Motu fertur proprio.
Mary moder, after thin sone,
Up thou steyist with hym to wone;
The aungele wern glad quan thou were come
In celi palacio.
Up thou steyist with hym to wone;
The aungele wern glad quan thou were come
In celi palacio.
34
XXX. Al the meryere is that place,
The sunne of grace hym schynit in.
The sunne of grace hym schynit in,
in on day quan it was mor[we],
Quan our Lord God born was,
withoute wem or sorwe.
The sunne of grace hym schynit in,
on a day quan it was pryme,
Quan our Lord God born was,
so wel he knew his tyme.
35
on a day quan it was non,
Quan our Lord God born was,
and on the rode don.
The sunne of grace hym schynit in,
on a day quan it was undy[rn].
Quan our Lord God born was,
and to the herte stongyn.
36
XXXII.
[Out of the blosme sprang a thorn]
Out of the blosme sprang a thorn,
Quan God hym self wold be born,
He let us nevere be forlorn,
That born was of Marie.
Quan God hym self wold be born,
He let us nevere be forlorn,
That born was of Marie.
Ther sprang a welle al at here fot,
That al this word is t[o]rnyd to good,
Quan Jhesu Cryst took fleych and blod
Of his moder Marie.
That al this word is t[o]rnyd to good,
Quan Jhesu Cryst took fleych and blod
Of his moder Marie.
Out of the welle sprang a strem
Fro patriarck to Jerusalem,
Til Cryst hymself aȝen it nem
Of his moder, etc.
Fro patriarck to Jerusalem,
Til Cryst hymself aȝen it nem
Of his moder, etc.
37
In wynter quan the frost hym fres,
A powre beddyng our Lord hym ches;
Betwyin an ox and an as
Godes sone born he was
Of his, etc.
A powre beddyng our Lord hym ches;
Betwyin an ox and an as
Godes sone born he was
Of his, etc.
It was upon the twelwe day,
Ther come thre kynges in ryche aray,
To seke Cryst ther he lay
And his, etc.
Ther come thre kynges in ryche aray,
To seke Cryst ther he lay
And his, etc.
Thre kynges out of dyves londe,
Swythe comyn with herte stronge,
The chyld to sekyn underfonge,
That born was of Marie.
Swythe comyn with herte stronge,
The chyld to sekyn underfonge,
That born was of Marie.
The sterre led hem a ryte way
To the chyld ther he lay;
He help us bothe nyȝt and day,
That born was of Marie.
To the chyld ther he lay;
He help us bothe nyȝt and day,
That born was of Marie.
Baltyzar was the ferste kyng,
He browte gold to his offeryng,
For to presente that ryche kyng,
And his moder Marie.
He browte gold to his offeryng,
For to presente that ryche kyng,
And his moder Marie.
38
Melchiar was the secunde kyng,
He browte incens to his offering,
For to present that ryche kyng,
And his, etc.
He browte incens to his offering,
For to present that ryche kyng,
And his, etc.
Jasper was the thred kyng,
He browte myrre to his offeryng,
For to presente that ryche kyng,
and his, etc.
He browte myrre to his offeryng,
For to presente that ryche kyng,
and his, etc.
Ther they offerid here presens,
With gold and myrre and francincens,
And clerkes redyn in here seqwens
in Ephifanye.
With gold and myrre and francincens,
And clerkes redyn in here seqwens
in Ephifanye.
Knel we down hym beforn,
And prey we to hym that now is born,
And let us never be forlorn,
that born was of Marye.
And prey we to hym that now is born,
And let us never be forlorn,
that born was of Marye.
XXXIII. Of alle the spyces that I knowe,
Blyssid be the qwete flour.
Qwete is bothe semely and sote,
Of alle spyces that is bote,
The vertu spryngit out of the rote,
so blyssid be the qw[e]te flour.
Of alle spyces that is bote,
39
so blyssid be the qw[e]te flour.
The secunde vers I sey beforn,
Qwete is kyng of every corn;
Jhesu hym self for us was born,
so blyssid, etc.
Qwete is kyng of every corn;
Jhesu hym self for us was born,
so blyssid, etc.
The thredde vers, with Godes grace,
Qw[e]te is good in every place,
In qwete is porteyidid Godes face,
so, etc.
Qw[e]te is good in every place,
In qwete is porteyidid Godes face,
so, etc.
The forte vers, withoute stryf,
Of qwete is mad the bred of lyf,
Us to receyvyn in clene lyf,
so, etc.
Of qwete is mad the bred of lyf,
Us to receyvyn in clene lyf,
so, etc.
The fyfte vers, withoute skorn,
Qwete is a spyce, a wol good on,
King that is of every corn,
so, etc.
Qwete is a spyce, a wol good on,
King that is of every corn,
so, etc.
The sexte vers, I xal ȝou seye,
Jhesu Cryst that sit on heye
He let us never for hunger deye,
so blyssid be the qwete flour.
Jhesu Cryst that sit on heye
He let us never for hunger deye,
so blyssid be the qwete flour.
40
XXXIV. The sterre hym schon bothe nyȝt and day,
To lede thre kynges ther our Lord lay.
Jhesu was born in Bedlem Judé,
Of mayde Mary, thus fynde we;
Out of the est come kynges thre
with ryche presentes, as I ȝow say.
Of mayde Mary, thus fynde we;
Out of the est come kynges thre
with ryche presentes, as I ȝow say.
As they went forth in here pas,
The sterre schon al in here fas
As bryȝt as golde withine the glas,
to Bedlem to ledyn hem the way.
The sterre schon al in here fas
As bryȝt as golde withine the glas,
to Bedlem to ledyn hem the way.
Kyng Herowdes was most of pryse,
He seyde to tho thre kynges that wern so wys
“Go and sekit me ȝone chyld of pryse,
and comit ageyn be me, I ȝou pray.
He seyde to tho thre kynges that wern so wys
“Go and sekit me ȝone chyld of pryse,
and comit ageyn be me, I ȝou pray.
And I myself xal with ȝow wynde,
The chyld to worchepe, the child to fynde,
And worchepyn hym with al myn mynde,
with al the onour that I may.”
The chyld to worchepe, the child to fynde,
And worchepyn hym with al myn mynde,
with al the onour that I may.”
Quan they kemyn into that plas
Ther Jhesu with his moder was,
They settyn hem doun and made solas,
and every kyng to other gan say.
Ther Jhesu with his moder was,
41
and every kyng to other gan say.
Quan they haddyn offerid up here presens,
With gold and myrre and francincens,
As clerkes redyn in here sequens,
he took it of hem, and seyd not nay.
With gold and myrre and francincens,
As clerkes redyn in here sequens,
he took it of hem, and seyd not nay.
Quan they hadde offerid here offeryng
To Jhesu that is hevene kyng,
Of an aungyl they hadd warnyng,
to wendyn hom be another way.
To Jhesu that is hevene kyng,
Of an aungyl they hadd warnyng,
to wendyn hom be another way.
The aungyl cam fro hevene kyng,
And bad tho thre kynges ageyn hom wynd,
Therin to dwelle, therin to ben,
til kyng Herowdes endyng day.
And bad tho thre kynges ageyn hom wynd,
Therin to dwelle, therin to ben,
til kyng Herowdes endyng day.
Kyng Herowde wox wol ille,
For tho thre kynges comyn hym not tille,
For to fulfille his wykkyd wille,
and to his knytes he gan say.
For tho thre kynges comyn hym not tille,
For to fulfille his wykkyd wille,
and to his knytes he gan say.
Kyng Herowdes wox wroth anon,
The chylderin of Israel he dide slon,
He wende Jhesu hadde ben the ton,
and ȝyt he falyid of his pray.
The chylderin of Israel he dide slon,
He wende Jhesu hadde ben the ton,
and ȝyt he falyid of his pray.
42
Kyng Herowdes deyid, and went to helle,
For swete Jhesus that we spelle;
God saf us fro the peynis of helle,
and fro the wykkid fyndes pray.
For swete Jhesus that we spelle;
God saf us fro the peynis of helle,
and fro the wykkid fyndes pray.
49
XXXIX. Reges de Saba venient,
Aurum, tus, myrram, offerent.
Alleluia.
Now is the twelthe day i-come,
The Fader and Sone togeder arn nome,
The Holy Gost, as they wern wone,
in fere.
God send us good newe ȝere.
The Fader and Sone togeder arn nome,
The Holy Gost, as they wern wone,
in fere.
God send us good newe ȝere.
I wil ȝou synge with al myn myȝt,
Of a chyld so fayr in syȝt,
A maydyn hym bar this ender nyȝt,
so stylle;
As it was his wylle.
Of a chyld so fayr in syȝt,
A maydyn hym bar this ender nyȝt,
so stylle;
As it was his wylle.
50
Thre kynges out of Galylie
Kemyn to Bedlem that ceté,
For to takyn in to that se,
be nyte;
It was a ful fayr syte.
Kemyn to Bedlem that ceté,
For to takyn in to that se,
be nyte;
It was a ful fayr syte.
As they keme forȝt with here offeryng,
They mette with Herowdes, that mody kyng;
He askyd hem of here comyng,
that tyde,
And thus to hem he seyde:
They mette with Herowdes, that mody kyng;
He askyd hem of here comyng,
that tyde,
And thus to hem he seyde:
“Fro qwens come ȝe, kynges thre?”
“Out of the est, as thou mayst se,
To sekyn hym that evere xal be,
throw ryte,
Lord and kyng of myte.”
“Out of the est, as thou mayst se,
To sekyn hym that evere xal be,
throw ryte,
Lord and kyng of myte.”
“Quan ȝe han at that kyng i-be,
Comit ageyn this weye be me,
And tel me the sytes that han se;
I praye,
ȝe gon non other waye.”
Comit ageyn this weye be me,
And tel me the sytes that han se;
I praye,
ȝe gon non other waye.”
Of Herowdys, that mody kyng,
He tokyn here leve, of eld and ȝyng;
And foth they wente with here offeryng
in syȝte,
And ther wey come be nyte.
He tokyn here leve, of eld and ȝyng;
51
in syȝte,
And ther wey come be nyte.
Quan they comyn into the plas
Ther Jhesu with his moder was,
Thei made offeryng with gret solas,
not ferre,
With gold, incens, and myrre.
Ther Jhesu with his moder was,
Thei made offeryng with gret solas,
not ferre,
With gold, incens, and myrre.
As they wern hom-ward i-went,
The Fader of hevene an aungyl sent
To tho thre kynges that made present,
or daye,
And thus to hem gan saye.
The Fader of hevene an aungyl sent
To tho thre kynges that made present,
or daye,
And thus to hem gan saye.
“My Lord haȝt warnyd ȝou of ȝour fon,
Be kyng Herowdes that ȝe not gon;
For if ȝe don, he wil ȝou slon,
and traye;
ȝe gon another waye.”
Be kyng Herowdes that ȝe not gon;
For if ȝe don, he wil ȝou slon,
and traye;
ȝe gon another waye.”
Quan they comyn hom to here cuntré,
Blythe and glad they wern alle thre
Of the sytes that they had se,
be nyte,
Jhesu and Mari bryte.
Blythe and glad they wern alle thre
Of the sytes that they had se,
be nyte,
Jhesu and Mari bryte.
52
With tresoun to us gan he sayn,
He trowid Jhesu to han slayn;
Into Egypt thei went ful playn,
be syde;
Josep was here gyde.
He trowid Jhesu to han slayn;
Into Egypt thei went ful playn,
be syde;
Josep was here gyde.
Into Bedlem thei gunne pas,
The sterre gan schynyn in here fas
Brytter than evere schon sunne in glas,
in londe,
Jhesu with Mari thei fonde.
The sterre gan schynyn in here fas
Brytter than evere schon sunne in glas,
in londe,
Jhesu with Mari thei fonde.
Kyng Herowdes he made his vow,
Gret plenté of chylderin he slow,
He wende ther xuld a be Jhesu;
I saye,
He falyid of his praye.
Gret plenté of chylderin he slow,
He wende ther xuld a be Jhesu;
I saye,
He falyid of his praye.
Herowdes was wod in ryalté;
He slow schylderin ryȝt gret plenté
In Bedlem, that fayre ceté,
with stryf;
Ne left he non on lyf.
He slow schylderin ryȝt gret plenté
In Bedlem, that fayre ceté,
with stryf;
Ne left he non on lyf.
The chylderin of Israel cryid “wa, wa!”
The moderis of Bedlem cryid “ba, ba!”
Herowdes low, and seyd, “a ha!
that qwede,
The kyng of Juwys is dede.”
The moderis of Bedlem cryid “ba, ba!”
53
that qwede,
The kyng of Juwys is dede.”
Almyty God in mangesté,
In on God personys thre,
Bryng us to the blysse that is so fre,
in fere;
And send us a good newe ȝere.
In on God personys thre,
Bryng us to the blysse that is so fre,
in fere;
And send us a good newe ȝere.
Reges de Saba venient, aurum, tus, mirra, offere[nt].
61
XLIII. Synge we, synge we,
Gloria tibi, Domine.
Man, if thou hast synnyd owth,
Chaunge redely thi thowth,
Thynk on hym that haȝt the bowth,
So dere upon the rode tre.
Chaunge redely thi thowth,
Thynk on hym that haȝt the bowth,
So dere upon the rode tre.
Thynk he cam for to ben born,
To beyin aȝen that was forlorn,
Many a ml ȝer beforn,
Out of his owyn magesté.
To beyin aȝen that was forlorn,
Many a ml ȝer beforn,
Out of his owyn magesté.
62
Thynk the Juwis quan hym tokyn,
Hese desipele hym forsokyn,
Alle the veynys on hym schokyn,
For dowt of deth wold he not fle.
Hese desipele hym forsokyn,
Alle the veynys on hym schokyn,
For dowt of deth wold he not fle.
Thynk the cros he dedyn hym bere,
Garlond of thorn he dedyn hym were,
False tretowres that they were,
Til he kemyn ther he wolde be.
Garlond of thorn he dedyn hym were,
False tretowres that they were,
Til he kemyn ther he wolde be.
Thynk he dedyn hym on the rode;
Thynk it was al for our goode;
Thynk the Juwys wyxin wode,
On hym they haddyn non peté.
Thynk it was al for our goode;
Thynk the Juwys wyxin wode,
On hym they haddyn non peté.
Thynk how sore he was bowndyn;
Thynk he sufferid harde woundys,
Of tho false helle howndys,
With schorge and spere and naylys thre.
Thynk he sufferid harde woundys,
Of tho false helle howndys,
With schorge and spere and naylys thre.
Thynk, man, on the werste of alle,
He ȝevyn hym drynkyn ezyl and galle,
Hely for peyne he gan to calle
To his fader in trenité.
He ȝevyn hym drynkyn ezyl and galle,
Hely for peyne he gan to calle
To his fader in trenité.
Thynk, man, wytterly,
Think he bowt the bytterly;
Forsake thi synne and to hym cry,
That he have mercy upon the.
Think he bowt the bytterly;
Forsake thi synne and to hym cry,
That he have mercy upon the.
65
XLV. Nowel el el el el el el el el el el el el el el el.
Mary moder, cum and se,
Thi sone is naylyd on a tre,
Hand and fot, he may not go,
His body is woundyn al in woo.
Thi sone is naylyd on a tre,
Hand and fot, he may not go,
His body is woundyn al in woo.
Thi swete sone, that thu hast born
To save mankynde that was forlorn,
His hed is wrethin in a thorn,
His blysful body is al to-torn.
To save mankynde that was forlorn,
His hed is wrethin in a thorn,
His blysful body is al to-torn.
Quan he this tale began to telle,
Mary wold non lenger dwelle,
But hyid here faste to that hylle,
Ther Jhesu his blod began to spylle.
Mary wold non lenger dwelle,
But hyid here faste to that hylle,
Ther Jhesu his blod began to spylle.
“Myn swete sone, that art me dere,
Qwy han men hangyd the here?
Thi hed is wrethin in a brere,
Myn lovely sone, qwer is thin chere.
Qwy han men hangyd the here?
Thi hed is wrethin in a brere,
Myn lovely sone, qwer is thin chere.
Thin swete body that in me rest,
Thin comely mowth that I have kest,
Now on rode is mad thi nest;
Leve chyld, quat is me best?”
Thin comely mowth that I have kest,
66
Leve chyld, quat is me best?”
“Womman, to Jon I the betake;—
Jon, kyp this womman for myn sake;
For synful sowlys my deth I take,
On rode I hange for manys sake.
Jon, kyp this womman for myn sake;
For synful sowlys my deth I take,
On rode I hange for manys sake.
“This game alone me muste play,
For synful sowles I deye to day;
Ther is non wyȝt that goth be the way,
Of myn peynys can wel say.”
For synful sowles I deye to day;
Ther is non wyȝt that goth be the way,
Of myn peynys can wel say.”
XLVI. A, a, a, a,
Nunc gaudet ecclesia.
Lestenytȝ, lordynges, bothe grete and smale,
I xal ȝou telyn a wonder tale,
How holy cherche was brow[t] in bale,
Cum magna injuria.
I xal ȝou telyn a wonder tale,
How holy cherche was brow[t] in bale,
Cum magna injuria.
The greteste clerk of al this lond,
Of Cauntyrbery, ȝe understond,
Slawyn he was [be] wykkyd hond,
Demonis potencia.
Of Cauntyrbery, ȝe understond,
Slawyn he was [be] wykkyd hond,
Demonis potencia.
67
Knytes kemyn fro Hendry kyng,
Wykkyd men, withoute lesyng;
Ther they dedyn a wonder thing,
Ferventes insania.
Wykkyd men, withoute lesyng;
Ther they dedyn a wonder thing,
Ferventes insania.
They sowtyn hym al abowtyn,
Withine the paleys and withoutyn
Of Jhesu Cryst hadde they non dowte,
In sua malicia.
Withine the paleys and withoutyn
Of Jhesu Cryst hadde they non dowte,
In sua malicia.
They openyd here mowthis wonder wyde,
To Thomeys they spokyn mekyl pryde,
“Here, tretour, thou xalt abyde,
Ferens mortis tedia.”
To Thomeys they spokyn mekyl pryde,
“Here, tretour, thou xalt abyde,
Ferens mortis tedia.”
Thomas answerid with mylde chere,
“If ȝe wil me slon in this manere,
Let hem pasyn alle tho arn here,
Sine contumilia.”
“If ȝe wil me slon in this manere,
Let hem pasyn alle tho arn here,
Sine contumilia.”
Beforn his aunter he knelyd adoun,
Ther they gunne to paryn his crown;
He sterdyn the braynys up and doun,
Optans celi gaudia.”
Ther they gunne to paryn his crown;
He sterdyn the braynys up and doun,
Optans celi gaudia.”
68
The turmentowres abowtyn sterte,
With dedly wondys thei gunne him hurte;
Thomas deyid in moder cherche,
Pergens ad celestia.
With dedly wondys thei gunne him hurte;
Thomas deyid in moder cherche,
Pergens ad celestia.
Moder, clerk, wedue, and wyf,
Worchepe ȝe Thomeys in al ȝour lyf;
For lij. poyntes he les his lyf,
Contra regis consilia.
Worchepe ȝe Thomeys in al ȝour lyf;
For lij. poyntes he les his lyf,
Contra regis consilia.
XLVII. Man, be glad in halle and bour,
This tyme was born our Savyour.
In this tyme Cryst haȝt us sent
His owyn sone in present,
To dwelle with us verement,
To ben our helpe and socour.
His owyn sone in present,
To dwelle with us verement,
To ben our helpe and socour.
In this tyme ros a sterre cler,
Over Bedlem, as bryȝt as fer,
In tokenyng that he hadde non per,
Lord God, kyng, and emperour.
Over Bedlem, as bryȝt as fer,
In tokenyng that he hadde non per,
Lord God, kyng, and emperour.
In this tyme it is befalle,
He that deyid for us alle,
Born he was in assis stalle,
Of Mary, that swete flour.
He that deyid for us alle,
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Of Mary, that swete flour.
In this tyme kemyn thre kynges,
He kemyn fro fer with ryche thinges,
For to makyn here offerynges
On here knen with gret honour.
He kemyn fro fer with ryche thinges,
For to makyn here offerynges
On here knen with gret honour.
In this tyme prey we
To hym that deyid on the tre,
On us have mercy and peté,
And bryng us alle to his tour.
To hym that deyid on the tre,
On us have mercy and peté,
And bryng us alle to his tour.
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XLIX. How hey, it is [non] les,
I dar not seyn, quan che seyȝ pes.
Ȝyng men, I warne ȝou everychon,
Elde wywys tak ȝe non,
For I myself have on at hom;
I dare not seyn, quan che seyȝt pes.
Elde wywys tak ȝe non,
For I myself have on at hom;
I dare not seyn, quan che seyȝt pes.
Quan I cum fro the plow at non,
In a reven dych myn mete is don,
I dar not askyn our dame a spon;
I dar not, etc.
In a reven dych myn mete is don,
I dar not askyn our dame a spon;
I dar not, etc.
If I aske our dame bred,
Che takyt a staf and brekit myn hed,
And doth me rennyn under the led;
I dar not, etc.
Che takyt a staf and brekit myn hed,
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I dar not, etc.
If I aske our dame fleych,
Che brekyt myn hed with a dych;
“Boy, thou art not worȝt a reych;”
I dar, etc.
Che brekyt myn hed with a dych;
“Boy, thou art not worȝt a reych;”
I dar, etc.
If I aske our dame chese,
“Boy,” che seyȝt, “al at ese;
Thou art not worȝt half a pese.”
I dar not sey, quan che seyȝt pes.
“Boy,” che seyȝt, “al at ese;
Thou art not worȝt half a pese.”
I dar not sey, quan che seyȝt pes.
L. Synge we, synge we,
Regina celi, letare.
Holy maydyn, blyssid thou be,
Godes sone is born of the;
The fader of hevene worchepe we,
Regina celi, letare.
Godes sone is born of the;
The fader of hevene worchepe we,
Regina celi, letare.
Heyl, wyf! heyl, maydyn! heyl, brytȝ of ble!
Heyl, dowter! heyl, suster! heyl, ful of peté
Heyl, chosyn to tho personys thre!
Regina, etc.
Heyl, dowter! heyl, suster! heyl, ful of peté
Heyl, chosyn to tho personys thre!
Regina, etc.
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Thou art empresse of hevene so fre,
Worthi maydyn in magesté;
Now worchepe we the trenyté,
Regina, etc.
Worthi maydyn in magesté;
Now worchepe we the trenyté,
Regina, etc.
Lady so lovely, so goodly to see,
So buxsum in thi body to be,
Thou art his moder for humylité,
Regina celi, letare.
So buxsum in thi body to be,
Thou art his moder for humylité,
Regina celi, letare.
These ben curteys kynges of solunté,
They worchepyd thi sone with umylité;
Mylde Mary, thus rede we.
Regina, etc.
They worchepyd thi sone with umylité;
Mylde Mary, thus rede we.
Regina, etc.
So gracius, so precyows in ryalté;
Thus jentyl, thus good, thus fynde we
Ther is non swych in non cuntré.
Regina, etc.
Thus jentyl, thus good, thus fynde we
Ther is non swych in non cuntré.
Regina, etc.
And therfore knel we doun on our kne,
This blyssid berthe worchepe we;
This is a song of humylyté.
Regina, etc.
This blyssid berthe worchepe we;
This is a song of humylyté.
Regina, etc.
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LI. Synge we nowe alle and sum,
Ave, rex gentes Anglorum.
A newe song I wil begynne,
Of kyng Edmund that was so fre,
How he deyid withoute synne,
And bowdyn his body was to a tre.
With arwys scharpe they gunne hym prykke,
For non rewthe wold they lete;
As dropys of reyn they comyn thikke,
And every arwe with other gan mete.
And his hed also thei of smette,
Among the breres thei it kest;
A wolf it kepte withoutyn lette,
A blynd man fond it at the last.
Prey we to that worthi kyng
That sufferid ded this same day,
He saf us, bothe eld and ȝyng,
And scheld us fro the fendes fray.
LII. Man, be wys, and arys,
And thynk on lyf that lestenit ay.
Thynk, man, qwerof thou art wrout,
Powre and nakyd thou were heder browt,
Thynk how Cryst thi sowle haȝt bowt,
And fond to servyn hym to pay.
Powre and nakyd thou were heder browt,
Thynk how Cryst thi sowle haȝt bowt,
And fond to servyn hym to pay.
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Thynk, man, on the dere ȝeres thre;
For hunger deyid gret plenté,
Powre and ryche, bond and fre,
Thei leyn dede in every way.
For hunger deyid gret plenté,
Powre and ryche, bond and fre,
Thei leyn dede in every way.
Thynk, man, on the pestelens tweye;
In every cuntré men gunne deye;
Deth left neyther for lowe ne heye,
But lettyd hem of here pray.
In every cuntré men gunne deye;
Deth left neyther for lowe ne heye,
But lettyd hem of here pray.
Deth is wonder coveytous;
Quan he comit in a manys hous,
He takit the good man and his spows,
And bryngit hem in powre aray.
Quan he comit in a manys hous,
He takit the good man and his spows,
And bryngit hem in powre aray.
After cam a wyndes blast,
That made many a man agast;
Stefve stepelys that stodyn fast,
The weyke fyllyn and blewyn away.
That made many a man agast;
Stefve stepelys that stodyn fast,
The weyke fyllyn and blewyn away.
Many merveylis God haȝt sent,
Of lytenyng and of thunder dent;
At the frere camys haȝt it hent,
At Lynne toun, it is non nay.
Of lytenyng and of thunder dent;
At the frere camys haȝt it hent,
At Lynne toun, it is non nay.
Lytenyng at Lynne dede gret harm,
Of tolbothe and of fryre carm;
Thei stondyn wol cole, that stodyn wol warm;
It made hem a wol sory fray.
Of tolbothe and of fryre carm;
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It made hem a wol sory fray.
Lok, man, how thou ledyst thi lyf,
And how thou spendyst thi wyttes v.;
Go to cherche, and do the schryf,
And bryng thi sowle in redy way.
And how thou spendyst thi wyttes v.;
Go to cherche, and do the schryf,
And bryng thi sowle in redy way.
LIII. Go bet, peny, go bet, go,
For thou mat makyn bothe frynd and fo.
Peny is an hardy knyȝt;
Peny is mekyl of myȝt;
Peny of wrong he makyt ryȝt,
In every cuntré qwer he goo.
Peny is mekyl of myȝt;
Peny of wrong he makyt ryȝt,
In every cuntré qwer he goo.
Thow I have a man i-slawe,
And forfetyd the kynges lawe,
I xal fyndyn a man of lawe
Wyl takyn myn peny and let me goo.
And forfetyd the kynges lawe,
I xal fyndyn a man of lawe
Wyl takyn myn peny and let me goo.
And if I have to don fer or ner,
And peny be myn massanger,
Than am I non thing in dwer
My cause xal be wol i-doo.
And peny be myn massanger,
Than am I non thing in dwer
My cause xal be wol i-doo.
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And if I have pens bothe good and fyn,
Men wyl byddyn me to the wyn;
“That I have xal be thin;”
Sekyrly thei wil seyn so.
Men wyl byddyn me to the wyn;
“That I have xal be thin;”
Sekyrly thei wil seyn so.
And quan I have non in myn purs,
Peny bet, ne peny wers,
Of me thei holdyn but lytil fors,—
“He was a man, let hym goo.”
Peny bet, ne peny wers,
Of me thei holdyn but lytil fors,—
“He was a man, let hym goo.”
LIV. We ben chapmen lyȝt of fote,
The fowle weyis for to fle.
We bern abowtyn non cattes skynnys,
Pursis, perlis, sylver pynnis,
Smale wympel for ladyis chynnys;
Damsele, bey sum ware of me.
Pursis, perlis, sylver pynnis,
Smale wympel for ladyis chynnys;
Damsele, bey sum ware of me.
I have a poket for the nonys,
Therine ben tweyne precyous stonys;
Damsele, hadde ȝe asayid hem onys,
ȝe xuld the rathere gon with me.
Therine ben tweyne precyous stonys;
Damsele, hadde ȝe asayid hem onys,
ȝe xuld the rathere gon with me.
I have a jelyf of Godes sonde,
Withoutyn fyt it can stonde;
It can smytyn and haȝt non honde;
Ryd yourself quat it may be.
Withoutyn fyt it can stonde;
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Ryd yourself quat it may be.
I have a powder for to selle,
Quat it is can I not telle;
It makit maydenys wombys to swelle;
Therof I have a quantyté.
Quat it is can I not telle;
It makit maydenys wombys to swelle;
Therof I have a quantyté.
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LVI. Man, be glad in halle and bour,
This tyme was born our savyour.
In this tyme a chyld was born,
To save tho sowle that wern forlorn;
For us he werde garlond of thorn,
Al it was for our honour.
To save tho sowle that wern forlorn;
For us he werde garlond of thorn,
Al it was for our honour.
The eytende day he was schorn,
To fulfylle the lawe that was beforn;
Of meknesse he blew his horn
[OMITTED]
To fulfylle the lawe that was beforn;
Of meknesse he blew his horn
[OMITTED]
On Good Fryday was don on rode;
The Juwes spyltyn his herte blode;
Mary, his moder, be hym stode;
ȝe ben our help and our socour.
The Juwes spyltyn his herte blode;
Mary, his moder, be hym stode;
ȝe ben our help and our socour.
On Esterne day he gan up ryse,
To techyn hem that wern onwyse;
Jhesu, for ȝour woundes five,
ȝe ben our, etc.
To techyn hem that wern onwyse;
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ȝe ben our, etc.
On Halwyn Thursday he gan up steye,
To his fader that sit on heye;
Jhesu, for your curteysye,
ȝe ben, etc.
To his fader that sit on heye;
Jhesu, for your curteysye,
ȝe ben, etc.
On Qwytsunday he gan doun sende
Wyt and Wysdam us to amende;
Jhesu, bryng us to that ende,
Withoutyn delay, our savyour.
Wyt and Wysdam us to amende;
Jhesu, bryng us to that ende,
Withoutyn delay, our savyour.
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LVIII. Man, be merie as bryd on berie,
And al thi care let away.
This tyme is born a chyld ful good,
He that us bowt upon the rod;
He bond the devyl that is so wod,
Til the drydful domys day.
He that us bowt upon the rod;
He bond the devyl that is so wod,
Til the drydful domys day.
Quan the chyld of meche myȝt
Wold be born of Mary bryȝt,
A tokene he sente to kyng and knyȝt,
A sterre that schon bothe nyȝt and day.
Wold be born of Mary bryȝt,
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A sterre that schon bothe nyȝt and day.
The sterre schon as bryȝt as fer,
Over al the world bothe fer and ner,
In tokene he was withoutyn per;
And pereles he xal lastyn ay.
Over al the world bothe fer and ner,
In tokene he was withoutyn per;
And pereles he xal lastyn ay.
The .viij. day he was circumsise,
For to fulfylle the profecye;
The profetes with wordes wyse
Hym present with ryche aray.
For to fulfylle the profecye;
The profetes with wordes wyse
Hym present with ryche aray.
The .xij. day come kynges thre,
Out of the est, with herte fre,
To worchepyn hym thei knelyd on kne,
With gold and myrr[e] and francincens.
Out of the est, with herte fre,
To worchepyn hym thei knelyd on kne,
With gold and myrr[e] and francincens.
LIX. I may seyn to most and lest,
Verbum caro factum est.
Jhesu of his moder was born,
For us he werde garlond of thorn,
And ellys hadde we ben forlorn;
He tok his deth for most and lest.
For us he werde garlond of thorn,
And ellys hadde we ben forlorn;
He tok his deth for most and lest.
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I xal ȝou telle good skele qwy
That he was born of Mary,
For he deyid on Calvory,
He tok, etc.
That he was born of Mary,
For he deyid on Calvory,
He tok, etc.
He wrowt us alle with his hond;
The fendes woldyn adoun us wrong,
He bowt us ageyn with peynys strong,
He tok his, etc.
The fendes woldyn adoun us wrong,
He bowt us ageyn with peynys strong,
He tok his, etc.
A kerche thanne to him was fet,
A spere to his herte was set;
Than seyde the Juwys, “have thou that!”
He, etc.
A spere to his herte was set;
Than seyde the Juwys, “have thou that!”
He, etc.
The Juwis ȝevyn hym drynk ezyl and galle,
Quan Jhesu after drynk gan calle;
God, let us never in synne falle.
He tok, [etc.]
Quan Jhesu after drynk gan calle;
God, let us never in synne falle.
He tok, [etc.]
Prey we to that lord so fre,
For us he deyid on a tre,
At domys day our helpe he be.
He tok, etc.
For us he deyid on a tre,
At domys day our helpe he be.
He tok, etc.
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LX. Nowel, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el.
Nowel, el, bothe eld and ȝyng,
Nowel, el, nowe mow we syng,
In worchepe of our hevene kyng,
Almyty God in trinité.
Nowel, el, nowe mow we syng,
In worchepe of our hevene kyng,
Almyty God in trinité.
Lestenyȝt, lordynges, bothe leve and dere,
Lestenyt, ladyis, with glad chere,
A song of merthe now mow ȝe here,
How Cryst our brother he wolde be.
Lestenyt, ladyis, with glad chere,
A song of merthe now mow ȝe here,
How Cryst our brother he wolde be.
An aungyl fro hefne was sent ful snel,
His name his clepyd Gabriel,
His ardene he dede ful snel,
He sat on kne and seyde “Ave!”
His name his clepyd Gabriel,
His ardene he dede ful snel,
He sat on kne and seyde “Ave!”
And he seyde, “Mary, ful of grace,
Hevene and erthe in every place
Withine the tyme of lytyl space
Reconsilid it xuld be.”
Hevene and erthe in every place
Withine the tyme of lytyl space
Reconsilid it xuld be.”
Mary stod stylle as ony ston,
And to the aungyl che seyde anon,
“Than herd I nevere of manys mon,
Me thinkit wonder thou seyst to me.”
And to the aungyl che seyde anon,
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Me thinkit wonder thou seyst to me.”
The aungyl answerd anon ful wel,
“Mary, dryd the never a del,
Thou xalt conseyve a chyld ful wel,
The Holy Gost xal schadue the.”
“Mary, dryd the never a del,
Thou xalt conseyve a chyld ful wel,
The Holy Gost xal schadue the.”
Mary on bryst here hand che leyd,
Stylle xe stod, and thus xe seyd,
“Lo me here Godes owyn handmayd,
With herte and wil and body fre.”
Stylle xe stod, and thus xe seyd,
“Lo me here Godes owyn handmayd,
With herte and wil and body fre.”
Mary, moder, mayde myld,
For the love al of thi chyld,
Fro helle pet thou us schyld;
Amen, amen, now synge we.
For the love al of thi chyld,
Fro helle pet thou us schyld;
Amen, amen, now synge we.
LXI. Prenegard, prenegard,
Thus bere I myn baselard.
Lestenit, lordynges, I ȝou beseke;
Ther is non man worȝt a leke,
Be he sturdy, be he meke,
But he bere a baselard.
Ther is non man worȝt a leke,
Be he sturdy, be he meke,
But he bere a baselard.
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Myn baselard haȝt a schede of red,
And a clene loket of led;
Me thinkit I may bere up myn hed,
For I bere myn baselard.
And a clene loket of led;
Me thinkit I may bere up myn hed,
For I bere myn baselard.
My baselard haȝt a wrethin hafte;
Quan I am ful of ale cawte,
It is gret dred of man-slawtte,
For then I bere, etc.
Quan I am ful of ale cawte,
It is gret dred of man-slawtte,
For then I bere, etc.
My baselard haȝt a sylver schape;
Therfore I may bothe gaspe and gape;
Me thinkit I go lyk non knape,
For I bere a baselard.
Therfore I may bothe gaspe and gape;
Me thinkit I go lyk non knape,
For I bere a baselard.
My baselard haȝt a trencher kene,
Fayr as rasour scharp and schene;
Evere me thinkit I may be kene,
For I bere, etc.
Fayr as rasour scharp and schene;
Evere me thinkit I may be kene,
For I bere, etc.
As I ȝede up in the strete,
With a cartere I gan mete,
“Felawe,” he seyde, “so mot I the,
Thou xalt forego thi baselard.”
With a cartere I gan mete,
“Felawe,” he seyde, “so mot I the,
Thou xalt forego thi baselard.”
The cartere his qwyppe began to take;
And al myn fleych began to qwake,
And I was lef for to ascape,
And there I left myn baselard.
And al myn fleych began to qwake,
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And there I left myn baselard.
Quan I cam forȝt onto myn damme,
Myn hed was brokyn to the panne;
Che seyde I was a praty manne,
And wel cowde bere myn baselard.
Myn hed was brokyn to the panne;
Che seyde I was a praty manne,
And wel cowde bere myn baselard.
LXII. I may seyn, and so mown mo,
That in semenaunt goth gyle.
Semenaunt is a wonder thing,
It begylyt bothe knyȝt and kyng,
And makit maydenys of love-longyng;
I warne ȝou of that gyle.
It begylyt bothe knyȝt and kyng,
And makit maydenys of love-longyng;
I warne ȝou of that gyle.
Semenaunt is a sly peyntour,
It florchyt and fadit in many a flour,
And makit wommen to lesyn here bryte colour,
Upon a lytil qwyle.
It florchyt and fadit in many a flour,
And makit wommen to lesyn here bryte colour,
Upon a lytil qwyle.
In semenaunt be thinges thre,
Thowt, speche, and prevyté;
And trewthe xuld the forte be—
It is hens a ml. myle.
Thowt, speche, and prevyté;
And trewthe xuld the forte be—
It is hens a ml. myle.
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Trewthe is fer and semyt hynde,
Good and wykkyt it haȝt in mynde;
It faryt has a candele ende
That brennit fro half a myle.
Good and wykkyt it haȝt in mynde;
It faryt has a candele ende
That brennit fro half a myle.
Many man fayre to me he spekyt,
And he wyste hym wel bewreke,
He hadde we[l] levere myn hed to-breke,
Than help me over a style.
And he wyste hym wel bewreke,
He hadde we[l] levere myn hed to-breke,
Than help me over a style.
God that deyid upon the cros,
Ferst he deyid sythin he ros,
Have mercy and peté on us;
We levyn here but a qwyle.
Ferst he deyid sythin he ros,
Have mercy and peté on us;
We levyn here but a qwyle.
LXIII. Kep thi tunge, thi tunge, thi tunge,
Thi wykyd tunge werkit me w[o].
Ther is non gres that growit on ground,
Satenas ne peny round,
Wersse then is a wykkyd tunge,
That spekit bethe evyl of frynd and fo.
Satenas ne peny round,
Wersse then is a wykkyd tunge,
That spekit bethe evyl of frynd and fo.
Wykkyd tunge makit ofte stryf
Betwyxe a good man and his wyf,
Quan he xulde lede a merie lyf,
Here qwyte sydys waxin ful blo.
Betwyxe a good man and his wyf,
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Here qwyte sydys waxin ful blo.
Wykkyd tunge makit ofte stauns,
Bothe in Engelond and in Frauns;
Many a man wyt spere and launs,
Throw wykkyd tunge, to dede is do.
Bothe in Engelond and in Frauns;
Many a man wyt spere and launs,
Throw wykkyd tunge, to dede is do.
Wykkyd tunge brekit bon,
Thow the self have non;
Of his frynd he makit his fon,
In every place qwere that he go.
Thow the self have non;
Of his frynd he makit his fon,
In every place qwere that he go.
Good men that stondyn and syttyn in this halle,
I prey ȝou bothe on and alle,
That wykkyd tunges fro ȝou falle,
That ȝe mown to hefne go.
I prey ȝou bothe on and alle,
That wykkyd tunges fro ȝou falle,
That ȝe mown to hefne go.
LXIV. Alma Redemptoris mater.
As I lay upon a nyȝt,
My thowt was on a mayde bryȝt
That men callyn Mary of myȝt,
Redemptoris mater.
My thowt was on a mayde bryȝt
That men callyn Mary of myȝt,
Redemptoris mater.
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To here cam Gabriel so bryȝt,
And seyde, “Heyl, Mari, ful of myȝt,
To be cald thou art adyȝt
Redemp.”
And seyde, “Heyl, Mari, ful of myȝt,
To be cald thou art adyȝt
Redemp.”
After that word that mayde bryȝt
Anon conseyvyd God of myȝt,
And therby wyst men that che hyȝt
R.
Anon conseyvyd God of myȝt,
And therby wyst men that che hyȝt
R.
Ryȝt as the sunne schynit in glas,
So Jhesu in his moder was,
And therby wyt man that che was
R.
So Jhesu in his moder was,
And therby wyt man that che was
R.
Now is born that babe of blys,
And qwen of hevene is moder is;
And therfore think me that che is
R.
And qwen of hevene is moder is;
And therfore think me that che is
R.
After to hevene he tok his flyȝt,
And ther he sit with his fader of myȝt;
With hym is crownyd that lady bryȝt,
Redemptoris mater.
And ther he sit with his fader of myȝt;
With hym is crownyd that lady bryȝt,
Redemptoris mater.
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LXVII. Wolcum, ȝol, thou mery man,
In worchepe of this holy day.
Wolcum be thou, hevene kyng,
Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,
Wolcum, for hom we xal syng,
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum, born in on morwenyng,
Wolcum, for hom we xal syng,
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum be ȝe, Stefne and Jon,
Wolcum, innocentes everychon;
Wolcum, Thomas, marter on;
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum, innocentes everychon;
Wolcum, Thomas, marter on;
Wolcum, ȝol.
94
Wolcum be ȝe, good newe ȝere,
Wolcum, twelthe day, bothe in fere;
Wolcum, seyntes, lef and dere;
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum, twelthe day, bothe in fere;
Wolcum, seyntes, lef and dere;
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum be ȝe, candylmesse;
Wolcum be ȝe, qwyn of blys,
Wolcum bothe to more and lesse;
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum be ȝe, qwyn of blys,
Wolcum bothe to more and lesse;
Wolcum, ȝol.
Wolcum be ȝe that arn here;
Wolcum, alle, and mak good chere;
Wolcum, alle, another ȝere;
Wolcum, ȝole.
Wolcum, alle, and mak good chere;
Wolcum, alle, another ȝere;
Wolcum, ȝole.
LXIX. Lullay, myn lykyng, my dere sone, myn swetyng;
Lullay, my dere herte, myn owyn dere derlyng.
I saw a fayr maydyn syttyn and synge,
Sche lullyd a lytyl chyld, a swete lordyng,
Lullay, myn, [etc.]
Sche lullyd a lytyl chyld, a swete lordyng,
Lullay, myn, [etc.]
That eche lord is that that made alle thinge,
Of alle lordis he is lord, of alle kynges kyng.
Lullay.
Of alle lordis he is lord, of alle kynges kyng.
Lullay.
95
Ther was mekyl melody at that chyldes berthe,
Alle tho wern in hevene blys thei made mekyl merthe,
[Lullay.]
Alle tho wern in hevene blys thei made mekyl merthe,
[Lullay.]
Aungele bryȝt thei song that nyȝt and seydyn to that chyld,
Blyssid be thou, and so be sche that is bothe mek and myld.
[Lullay.]
Blyssid be thou, and so be sche that is bothe mek and myld.
[Lullay.]
Prey we now to that chyld, and to his moder dere,
Grawnt hem his blyssyng that now makyn chere.
[Lullay.]
Grawnt hem his blyssyng that now makyn chere.
[Lullay.]
99
LXXII. Mak ȝe merrie, as ye may,
And syng with me, I ȝou pray.
In Patras ther born he was
The holy buschop seynt Nycholas,
He wyst mekyl of Godes gras,
Throw vertu of the Trinité.
The holy buschop seynt Nycholas,
He wyst mekyl of Godes gras,
Throw vertu of the Trinité.
He reysyd thre klerkes fro deth to lyfve,
That wern in salt put ful swythe,
Betwyx a bochere and his wyfve,
And was hid in privyté.
That wern in salt put ful swythe,
Betwyx a bochere and his wyfve,
100
He maryid thre maydenys of myld mod;
He ȝaf hem gold to here fod;
He turnyd hem fro ille to good,
Throw vertu of the Trynyté.
He ȝaf hem gold to here fod;
He turnyd hem fro ille to good,
Throw vertu of the Trynyté.
Another he dede sekyrly,
He savyd a thef that was ful sly,
That stal a swyn out of his sty;
His lyf than savyd he.
He savyd a thef that was ful sly,
That stal a swyn out of his sty;
His lyf than savyd he.
God grawt us grace, bothe old and ȝyng,
Hym to serve at his plesyng;
To hevene blysse he us bryng.
Throw vertu of the Trinité.
Hym to serve at his plesyng;
To hevene blysse he us bryng.
Throw vertu of the Trinité.
LXXIV. Kyrie, so kyrie, Jankyn syngyt merie, with aleyson.
As I went on ȝol day
in owre prosessyon,
Know I joly Jankyn
be his mery ton;
Jankyn began the offys
on the ȝol day;
And ȝit me thynkyt it dos me good,
so merie gan he say,
Kyrieleyson.
in owre prosessyon,
Know I joly Jankyn
be his mery ton;
Jankyn began the offys
on the ȝol day;
And ȝit me thynkyt it dos me good,
so merie gan he say,
Kyrieleyson.
101
Jankyn red the pystyl
ful fayre and ful wel,
And ȝyt me thinkyt it dos me good,
as evere have I sal.
Jankyn at the sanctus
crakit a merie note,
And ȝit me thinkyt it dos me good,
I payid for his cote.
Jankyn crakit notes,
an hunderid on a knot,
And ȝyt he hakkyt hem smallere
than wortes to the pot.
k.
ful fayre and ful wel,
And ȝyt me thinkyt it dos me good,
as evere have I sal.
Jankyn at the sanctus
crakit a merie note,
And ȝit me thinkyt it dos me good,
I payid for his cote.
Jankyn crakit notes,
an hunderid on a knot,
And ȝyt he hakkyt hem smallere
than wortes to the pot.
k.
Jankyn at the angnus
beryt the pax brede,
He twynkelid, but sayd nowt,
and on myn fot he trede.
Benedicamus Domino,
Cryst from schame me schylde.
Deo gracias thereto,
alas! I go with schylde.
k.
beryt the pax brede,
He twynkelid, but sayd nowt,
and on myn fot he trede.
Benedicamus Domino,
Cryst from schame me schylde.
Deo gracias thereto,
alas! I go with schylde.
k.
106
Wymmen beth bothe goude and truwe,
Wytnesse on Marie.
Wymmen beth bothe goud and schene,
On handes, fet, and face clene;
Wymmen may no beter bene;
W. o. M.
On handes, fet, and face clene;
Wymmen may no beter bene;
W. o. M.
Wymmen beth gentel on her tour;
A womman bar oure Savyour;
Of al thys wor[ld] wyman is flour;
W. o. M.
A womman bar oure Savyour;
Of al thys wor[ld] wyman is flour;
W. o. M.
Wyrchyp we wymmanys face,
Wer we seth hem on a place;
For wymman ys the wyl of grace.
W. o. M.
107
For wymman ys the wyl of grace.
W. o. M.
Love a womman with herte truwe,
He nel chongy for no newe;
Wymmen beth of wordes fewe;
W. o. M.
He nel chongy for no newe;
Wymmen beth of wordes fewe;
W. o. M.
Wymmen beth goud, withoute lesyng;
Fro sorwe and care hy wol us bryng;
Wymman ys flour of alle thyng;
W. o. M.
Fro sorwe and care hy wol us bryng;
Wymman ys flour of alle thyng;
W. o. M.
| Songs and carols from a manuscript in the British Museum of the fifteenth century | |