{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48355/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48355","id":"gutenberg_48355","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48355","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Medieval/Middle Ages","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Literature, Medieval"],"text":"[Illustration: PARADISE\n\nFrom Fra Angelico's \"The Last Judgment\" (early fifteenth century)]\n\n\n\n\n LEGENDS AND SATIRES\n\n FROM MEDI\u00c6VAL LITERATURE\n\n EDITED BY\n\n MARTHA HALE SHACKFORD, Ph.D.\n\n ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE\n WELLESLEY COLLEGE\n\n\n\n\n GINN AND COMPANY\n\n BOSTON \u00b7 NEW YORK \u00b7 CHICAGO \u00b7 LONDON\n\n\n\n\n COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY MARTHA HALE SHACKFORD\n ALL RIGHTS RESERVED\n 813.10\n\n\n\n\n The Athen\u00e6um Press\n\n GINN AND COMPANY \u00b7 PROPRIETORS\n \u00b7 BOSTON \u00b7 U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThis volume of translations is prepared especially for the use of\ncollege sophomores who are studying English poetry of the fourteenth\ncentury, but it is hoped that other readers may be interested in these\nold legends. Ideally, it would be better for students to read the\noriginal texts, but every teacher knows how difficult it is to provide\ntexts in this field. The various Middle English Readers are not frankly\npopular in their choice of subject matter, and the publications of\nlearned societies are far too expensive to be available for classroom\nwork. It does not seem, therefore, entirely an offense against\nscholarship to offer students a volume that will serve humbly as\ncompanion to \"Piers Plowman,\" \"The Pearl,\" Chaucer's poems, and various\nromances and lyrics which are studied in carefully edited texts.\n\nThe modern translations are literal, but a certain freedom has been\nused in reshaping sentences and in omitting conventional phrases when\nthey proved too monotonous in their repetitions. Quite enough _tags_\nand awkward constructions have been preserved to illustrate fully the\nstyle of medi\u00e6val clerks.\n\nAcknowledgment is made for help received from Gaston Paris's \"La\nlitt\u00e9rature fran\u00e7aise au moyen \u00e2ge,\" and from W. H. Schofield's\n\"English Literature from the Norman Conquest to Chaucer.\" Miss Marion\nE. Markley has contributed two translations from Old French, and has\ngiven many helpful suggestions regarding details.\n\n      M. H. S.\n\n  Wellesley, Massachusetts\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                 PAGE\n\nINTRODUCTION      vii\n\nPROEM\n\nOf Man's Body      3\nOf Man's Soul      4\n\nDEBATE\n\nThe Amorous Contention of Phillis and Flora       7\nThe Pleading of the Rose and of the Violet      24\n\nVISION\n\nThe Purgatory of Saint Patrick      33\n\nSAINTS' LIVES\n\nThe Life of Saint Brandon      53\nThe Life of Saint Margaret      73\n\nPIOUS TALES\n\nA Miracle of God's Body      81\nA Miracle of the Virgin      83\nThe Translation of Saint Thomas of Canterbury      87\n\nALLEGORY\n\nAn Extract from \"The Castle of Love\"      95\n\nBESTIARY\n\nLion, Eagle, Whale, Siren      101\n\nLAPIDARY\n\nDiamond, Sapphire, Amethyst, Geratite, Chelidonius,\nCoral, Heliotrope, Pearl, Pantheros; Symbolism of\nthe Carbuncle; Symbolism of the Twelve Stones      111\n\nHOMILY\n\nConcerning Miracle Plays, Games, and Minstrelsy      119\n\nSATIRE\n\nThe Song of the University of Paris      125\nThe Land of Cockaygne      128\nThe Complaint of the Husbandman      131\nSir Penny      134\n\nLAY\n\nSir Orfeo      141\n\nNOTES\n\nFrontispiece      161\nProem      161\nDebate      161\nVision       163\nSaints' Lives      165\nPious Tales      167\nAllegory      168\nBestiary      169\nLapidary      170\nHomily      172\nSatire      172\nLay      174\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nTo create anew the walls and towers and gardens of the medi\u00e6val\nworld is a comparatively easy task, now that we have so many aids to\nvisualizing that departed age, but it is not so easy to make live again\nthe thoughts and sentiments and beliefs of a vanished generation. All\nour study of history is valueless unless it brings a clearer revelation\nof the pulsing, ardent life of humanity. We search old records and\nold literature that we may find the true image of a world whose hopes\nand fears and loves prove to us the slow evolution of a progressive\ncivilization in which all human beings share. Out of the failures and\nthe doubts of one age comes the quicker power of another, and true\nprogress looks both backward and forward. To cherish old traditions is\nboth a duty and an inspiration.\n\nThe reader who turns his face toward the world of medi\u00e6val England\nand France, seeking to know the spirit which animated our ancestors\nof six centuries ago, must recognize in plowman, hermit, knight,\nfriar, or minstrel the fundamental fact that their life was actual and\nreal, not a mere tissue of medi\u00e6val costume and mechanical movements.\nIn order to understand that epoch it is essential for one to study\nin detail the works which picture the life of the day. The world of\nchivalry, with its brilliant pageantry and its vows of courtesy,\nloyalty, and liberality, is revealed in the pages of Froissart and in\nthe many metrical romances, where various aspects of knightly life\nare described. \"King Horn,\" \"Guy of Warwick,\" \"Libeaus Desconus,\" \"Sir\nEglamour,\" \"The Squire of Low Degree,\" and others tell the story of\nknighthood.\n\nAnother world is represented in \"Piers Plowman,\" where the oppression\nof the poor by the arrogant rich and the corruption of church and state\nare described in racy vernacular by one whose soul was on fire with\ndevotion to truth and justice. Social problems are enunciated, and the\nmisery wrought by human ignorance and selfishness is depicted in satire\nkeen, shrewd, and piercing.\n\nChaucer, the supreme poet of the fourteenth century in England,\nportrays a world of normal folk who represent all classes and\nconditions except the very high and the very low. While, in certain\nways, Chaucer's work is easier to read and understand than that of any\nof his contemporaries, students often read it very superficially and\nfail to recognize the deeply rooted traits which show that Chaucer\nwas the child of his epoch. We find in the English poet traces of the\ninfluence of Continental life and literature; we see him reading the\nclassics of Rome, of Florence, and of Paris; but he was also always\nintimately familiar with the minor literature popular among his own\ncountrymen.\n\nSince an understanding of Chaucer is a vivid introduction to the later\nMiddle Ages, it is essential for students of that period to have some\nacquaintance with the common literary types of Chaucer's day. The\ntranslations gathered together in this book are representative of\nthese types,\u2014debate, vision, allegory, saints' legends, pious tales,\nsatire, and lay. Few examples of secular literature are given, for\nthe most satisfactory way to approach the secular poetry of the time\nis to read parts, at least, of the \"Romance of the Rose,\" which has\nbeen translated, very freely, by F. S. Ellis.[1] This long poem is a\ncompendium of the ideals, manners, and tastes of the fashionable world\nof France and of England. The machinery of dream, personification, and\nallegory; the descriptions of nature and of dress; the attitude towards\nthe god of love and his fabled court; the satire; and the pedantry are\nall highly significant facts in the history of literature. Knowing\nthis romance, one knows the heart of thirteenth century Paris. The\nTroubadours,[2] too, should be studied for the sake of understanding\none side of lyric poetry. All this secular poetry, however, does not\naccount for Chaucer, who was indebted also to a stream of influence\ncoming from religious legends and allegories. The deeper side of his\nnature responded to the appeal of pious tales and records of saintly\nlives; superstitions about nature and about God attracted his interest,\nand stirred him to that effective contemplation which resulted\nin clear, sane judgments. Religious poetry was, first and last,\nfamiliar matter to the great court poet, and we should recognize its\ncharacteristics and its sovereign appeal.\n\nWe must remember that the world of the Middle Ages was essentially\nand positively Catholic. From birth to death the layman was under\nthe guardianship of Holy Church, and bound by the most solemn vows\nto perfect obedience. Yet, although there seems to be a certain\nconventionality in his performance of these duties, there was a very\nlively concern regarding that other world toward which he was moving.\nClose to the spiritual ecstasy of such lives as that of Saint Francis,\nor of Saint Catherine, or of the uncanonized Richard Rolle, there was a\ndim, frightened foreboding that perhaps Evil might prove the triumphant\nforce. Love of God was no stronger than fear of the devil. Tales of the\nblack magic of Satan as well as of the white magic of the church were\neagerly listened to by a people quick to show their interest in any\nmanifestation of the supernatural. Crude and childish as their faiths\nand superstitions may seem to a more liberal age, there is something\nimpressive in their deep conviction of hidden truths. When we lose all\nsense of mystery and of wonder and are wholly free from any illusions,\nlife becomes singularly vapid, for the very key to spiritual existence\nis a sense of infinite meanings forever challenging, baffling, and\ndominating our daily life.\n\n    \"But God forbede but men shulde leve\n    Wel more thing then men han seen with \u00ffe!\"\n\nIn the legends and allegories and satires represented in these pages\nthe reader will find strange and fervent faiths as well as homely\npictures of the world as it is. A vigorous use of the concrete is\neverywhere evident; abstractions seem not to exist without some\nphysical traits to make them real to the ordinary man. Intensely\npicturesque and objective are the descriptions of hell and of heaven,\nof the lands visited by Brandon, of Saint Paul's otter, of the miracles\nof Saint Thomas, of the virtues of the coral, and of the traits of\nRose and of Violet. To any readers there is unending charm in the\nnatural, simple style of setting forth these details which force vivid\nconceptions upon the imagination.\n\nGrowing up in a world of brilliant court life and becoming familiar\nwith a literary art which placed emphasis upon the concrete, Chaucer\nwas inevitably destined to be a supreme master of specific, suggestive\nrealism. He loved every aspect of existence, and he wrought his\ndescriptions with an art precise and joyous. The French poets and the\nEnglish preachers taught him the secret of appealing to the popular\nlove of visible and audible images. Yet his greatest power is that\ndramatic portrayal of human experience, a presentation whose quick\nhumour and overflowing sympathy have made him beloved by generations.\nImpatient of affectation in art, in manner, or in spiritual matters, he\ntaught sincerity. His humour, poise, and fearless, keen mentality will\nalways have their healing and wonder-working qualities.\n\n\n\n\nLEGENDS AND SATIRES\n\n\n\n\nPROEM\n\n\nOF MAN'S BODY\n\nOF MAN'S SOUL\n\n\n\n\nOF MAN'S BODY[3]\n\n\nAs I said before, the King of Might would be worshipped by two kinds\nof beings, angel and man. Adam was created, therefore, to make the\ntenth order, which Lucifer tried to destroy. Adam was not made of earth\nalone, but of four elements: his blood of water, his flesh of earth,\nhis heat of fire, and his breath of air. His head has two eyes. The sky\nhas sun and moon that, as men know, are set for sight; so man's eyes\nserve as sun and moon of light. Seven chief stars are fixed in heaven,\nand man's head has seven holes, which, if you think about it, you may\nfind with little labor. This breath that man draws so often betokens\nthe wind that blows aloft, of which thunder and lightning are created,\nas breath is bred in the breast with a cough. All waters sink into the\nsea, so man's stomach drinks all liquors. His feet bear him up from\nfalling, as the earth upholds all things. The upper fire gives man his\nsight, the upper air his power of hearing, the under wind gives him his\nbreath, the earth gives him his taste, feeling, and touch; the hardness\nof bone that man has comes to him from the nature of stones. From the\nearth grow trees and grass; and from man's flesh, nails and hair. With\ndumb beasts man has his share of things which he likes ill or well. Of\nthese things, I have heard said, Adam's body was put together. For this\nreason that you have heard, man is called the lesser world.\n\n\n\n\nOF MAN'S SOUL\n\n\nBut you have not yet heard the story of how man's soul was wrought.\nA ghostly light man says it is that God has made in His likeness; as\nprint of a seal is fixed in wax, so man has God's likeness. He has\nwrought him as friend and companion, since nothing is so dear to Him.\nHis Godhead is the Trinity, so a soul has properly three powers: the\nperception of what is, was, and shall be. It has pure understanding of\nwhat is seen and is unseen; it has, also, wisdom of will to take the\ngood and leave the evil. All the powers that may be dwell in that Holy\nTrinity. That soul which is cleansed from sin has all virtues. As God,\nwho is one and three, may by no kind of creature be understood nor\novertaken, but He overtakes each one, so the soul, without spot, is\nunseen, though it has sight of all things. To see the soul you have no\npower. Now have I shown you how two things hold man together;\u2014the soul,\na thing spiritual, and the body, which is flesh and skin.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nDEBATE\n\n\nTHE AMOROUS CONTENTION OF PHILLIS AND FLORA\n\nTHE PLEADING OF THE ROSE AND OF THE VIOLET\n\n\n\n\nTHE AMOROUS CONTENTION OF PHILLIS AND FLORA[4]\n\n\n    In flowry season of the yeere,\n    And when the firmament was cleere,\n    When Tellus hierbales paynted were\n    With issue of disparent[5] chere.\n\n    When th'usher to the morne did rise,\n    And drive the darknes from the skyes,\n    Sleepe gave their visuale liberties\n    To Phillis and to Floras eyes.\n\n    To walke these Ladyes liked best,\n    For sleepe rejects the wounded brest,\n    Who joyntly to a meade addrest,\n    Their sportance with the place to feast.\n\n    Thus made they amorous accesse,\n    Both virgins and both princesces;\n    Fayre Phillis wore a liberal tresse,\n    But Flora hirs in curls did dresse.\n\n    Nor in their ornamentall grace,\n    Nor in behaviour were they bace;\n    Their yeeres and mindes in egall[6] place\n    Did youth and his effects embrace.\n\n    A little yet unlike they proove,\n    And somewhat hostilely they strove:\n    A scholler Floras minde did moove,\n    But Phillis likt a souldiers love.\n\n    For stature and fresh bewties flowrs,\n    There grew no difference in their dowrs,\n    All thinges were free to both their powrs\n    Without and in their courtly bowrs.\n\n    One vow they made religiously,\n    And were of one societie;\n    And onely was their impacie[7]\n    The forme of eithers phantasie.[8]\n\n    Now did a timely gentle gale\n    A little whisper through the dale,\n    Where was a place of festivale,\n    With verdant grasse adorned all.\n\n    And in that meade-prowd-making grasse,\n    A river, like to liquid glasse,\n    Did in such sound-full murmure passe,\n    That with the same it wanton was.\n\n    Hard by this brooke a pyne had seate,\n    With goodly furniture compleate,\n    To make the place in state more greate\n    And lessen the inflaming heate.\n\n    Which was with leaves so bewtifide\n    And spread his brest so thicke and wide,\n    That all the sunnes estranged pride\n    Sustainde repulse on every side.\n\n    Fayre Phillis by the foorde did sit,\n    But Flora far remov'd from it,\n    The place in all thinges sweete was fit,\n    Where herbage did their seates admit.\n\n    Thus milde they opposite were set,\n    And coulde not their affects forget,\n    Loves arrows and their bosoms met,\n    And both their harts did passion fret.\n\n    Love close and inward shrowds his fires,\n    And in faint words firme sighs enspires,\n    Pale tinctures change their cheeks attires,\n    But modest shame entoombs their ires.\n\n    Phillis did Flora sighing take,\n    And Flora did requitale make:\n    So both together part the stake,\n    Till foorth the wound and sicknes brak.\n\n    In this chang'd speech they long time staide,\n    The processe all on Love they laide,\n    Love in their harts their lookes bewraide,\n    At last in laughter Phillis saide:\n\n    \"Brave souldier,\" sayd she, \"O my Paris,\n    In fight, or where so ere he tarries,\n    The souldiers lyfe lyfes glory carries,\n    Onely worth Venus household quarries.\"[9]\n\n    While she hir warr-friende did prefer,\n    Flora lookt coye and laught at her;\n    And did this adverse speech aver:\n    \"Thou shouldst have said, I love a begger.\n\n    \"But what doth he my hart embraces?\n    A thing create, that all things passes,\n    Whom nature blest with all hir graces;\n    O clerkes, in you blisse all blisse places.\"\n\n    This hard speech Phillis hardly takes,\n    And thus she Floras pacience crakes;\n    \"Thou lov'st a man pure love forsakes,\n    That God his godles bellie makes.\n\n    \"Rise, wretch, from this grosse extasie,\n    A clerke sole epicure thinke I.\n    No elegance can bewtifie\n    A shapeles lump of gluttonie.\n\n    \"His hart sweete Cupids tents rejects,\n    That onely meate and drinke affects:\n    O Flora, all mens intelects\n    Know souldiers vows, shun those respects.\n\n    \"Meere helpes for neede his minde suffiseth,\n    Dull sleepe and surfetts he despiseth,\n    Loves trump his temples exerciseth,\n    Cooradge and love, his life compriseth.\n\n    \"Who with like band our loves combineth?\n    Even Natures law thereat repineth;\n    My love in conquests palme-wreths shineth,\n    Thine feasts deforms, mine fight refineth.\"\n\n    Flora hir modest face enrosed,\n    Whose second smile more fayre disclosed,\n    At length with mooving voyce she losed\n    What art in her storde brest reposed.\n\n    \"Phillis, thy fill of speech thou hast,\n    Thy witt with pointed wings is grast,\n    Yet urdgest not a trueth so vast,\n    That hemlocks lillies have surpast.\n\n    \"Ease loving clerkes thou holdst for cleere,\n    Servants to sloth and bellie cheere;\n    So envie honor would enpheere,[10]\n    But give me eare, Ile give thee answere.\n\n    \"So much enjoyes this love of myne,\n    He nere envies, or hirs, or thyne;\n    Household stuffe, honny, oyle, corne, wine,\n    Coyne, jewels, plate, serve his designe.\n\n    \"Such pleasing store have clerks bylying,\n    As none can fayne their dignifying:\n    There, Love clasps his glad wings in flying,\n    Love ever firme, Love never dying.\n\n    \"Loves stings in him are still sustained,\n    Yet is my clerke nor pinde nor pained:\n    Joy hath no part in him restrained,\n    To whom his love beares thoughts unfained.\n\n    \"Palled, and leane, is thy elected,\n    Poore, scarce with cloths or skin contected,\n    His sinews weake, his brest dyjected,\n    For nothing causde maks nought effected.\n\n    \"Approching neede is Loves meere hell,\n    Souldiers want gyfts to woo loves well:\n    But clerks give much, and still heaps swell,\n    Their rents and riches so excell.\"\n\n    \"Right well thou knowst\" (Phillis replide)\n    \"What in both arts and lyves abide,\n    Likely, and clenly thou hast lide:\n    But thus our difference is not tride.\n\n    \"When holy-day the whole world cheeres,\n    A clerke lifes modest figure beares:\n    His crowne is heaven, black weeds he weares,\n    And showes a mind halfe dround in teares.\n\n    \"None is so poore of sence or eyne,\n    To whom a souldier doth not shyne:\n    At ease, like sprightles beasts lives thyne,\n    Helms, and barb'd horse, do weare out myne.\n\n    \"Mine low with armes makes foe-towrs ly,\n    And when on foote he fight doth try,\n    While his fayre squire his horse holds by,\n    Mine thinks on me, and then they dy.\n\n    \"He turns, fight past, and foes inchased,\n    And lookes on me with helme unlaced,\n    Lifts his strong lyms, and brest strait graced,\n    And saies, kyss-blesse me, O hart-placed.\"\n\n    Flora her wrath in pants did spye,\n    And many a dart at hir lets flye:\n    \"Thou canst not make with heaven-reacht crye\n    A camel pierce a needels eye.\n\n    \"False goes for true, for honny, gall,\n    To make a clerke a souldiers thrall;\n    Doth love to souldiers coradge call?\n    No, but the neede they toyle withall.\n\n    \"Fayre Phillis, would thy love were wise,\n    No more the trueth to contrarise!\n    Hunger and thirst bow souldiers thies,\n    In which Deaths path and Plutos lies.\n\n    \"Sharpe is the wasting bane of warre\n    The lot is hard, and strayneth farre:\n    The lyfe is stooping, doubts doth jarre,\n    To get such things as needefull are.\n\n    \"Knewst thou the case, thou wouldst not say,\n    Shaven haire sham'd clerks, or black aray:\n    Worne higher honors to display,\n    And that all states they oversway.\n\n    \"All things should to my clerke encline,\n    Whose crowne sustains th' impereal signe;\n    He rules and payes such friendes as thine,\n    And lay must stoope to men divine.\n\n    \"Thou sayst that sloth a clerke disguiseth,\n    Who I confesse base workes despiseth:\n    But when from cares his free minde riseth,\n    Heavens course and Naturs he compriseth.\n\n    \"Mine purple decks, thine maile bedighteth,\n    Thine lives in war, mine peace delighteth,\n    Olde acts of princes he resighteth,\n    All of his friend thinks, seeks, and wrighteth.\n\n    \"What Venus can, or Loves wingd lord,\n    First knowes my clerke, and brings me word:\n    Musicke in cares doth mine afford,\n    Thine joyes in rapine and the sword.\"\n\n    Here speech and strife had both their ending,\n    Phillis askt judgment, all suspending:\n    Much stir they made, yet ceast contending;\n    And sought a judge in homewards wending.\n\n    With countnances that egale[11] beene,\n    With egale majestie beseene:\n    With egale voyce, and egale spleene,\n    These virgins ward uppon the greene.\n\n    Phillis a white robe bewtifide,\n    Flora wore one of two hews dide:\n    Phillis upon a mule did ride,\n    Flora did back a horse of pride.\n\n    The mule was that which being create,\n    Neptune did feede, and subjugate:\n    Which after fayre Adonis fate,\n    He Venus sent to cheere hir state.\n\n    This, she the queene of Iberine,\n    Phillis fayre mother did resigne,\n    Since she was given to workes divine,\n    Whence Phillis had the mule in fine.\n\n    Who of the trappings asks, and bit,\n    The mule (though silver) champing it:\n    Know all things were so richly fit,\n    As Neptunes honor might admit.\n\n    Then Phillis no decorid wanted,\n    But rich and bewtious, all eyes daunted:\n    Nor Floras vertue lesse enchaunted,\n    Who on a welthy palfrey vaunted.\n\n    Tamde with his raines, won heaven for lightnes,\n    Exceeding fayre, and full of wightnes,[12]\n    His brest art dectt with divers brightnes,\n    For jeate blacke mixt with swans pure whightnes.\n\n    Young and in dainty shape dygested,\n    His lookes with pride, not rage, invested:\n    His mayne thin haird, his neck high crested,\n    Small eare, short head, and burly brested.\n\n    His brode backe stoopt to this clerks-loved,\n    Which with hir pressure nought was moved:\n    Strait legd, large thighd, and hollow hoved,\n    All Natures skill in him was proved.\n\n    An ivorie seate on him had place,\n    A hoope of golde did it imbrace,\n    Graven: and the poitrell[13] did enchace\n    A stone that star-like gave it grace.\n\n    Inscription there allurde the eye,\n    With many a wondrous misterie:\n    Of ancient thinges made noveltie,\n    That never man did yet descrie.\n\n    The God of Rhetoriques nuptiall bowre,\n    Adornd with every heavenly powre,\n    The contract, and the mariage howre,\n    And all the most unmeasurd dowre.\n\n    No place was there that figurd nought,\n    That could through all the world be sought:\n    But more excesse of mervails wrought,\n    Then might inceede[14] a humane thought.\n\n    The skyll of Mulciber alone\n    Engrav'd that admirable throne:\n    Who looking stedfastly thereon,\n    Scarse thought his hand such art had shone.\n\n    The trappings wrought he not with ease,\n    But all his payne employde to please:\n    And left, to go in hand with these,\n    The tardge of great Aeacides.[15]\n\n    A styrrop for hir feete to presse,\n    And bridle-bosses he did dresse,\n    And added rains in worths excesse,\n    Of his sweete spowses goulden tresse.\n\n    Thus on their famouse cavalrye,\n    These prince-borne damzels seemd to flye:\n    Their soft young cheekebales to the eye\n    Are of the fresh vermilion dye.\n\n    So lillies out of scarlet peere,\n    So roses of the vernall yeere,\n    So shoote two wanton starrs y-feere[16]\n    From the eternall burning spheere.\n\n    The child-gods gracefull paradise,\n    They joyntly purpose to invise:[17]\n    And lovely emulations rise,\n    In note of one anothers guise.\n\n    Phillis to Flora, laughter led,\n    And Flora Phillis answered:\n    A merlin Phillis managed,\n    A sparhawlke Flora caried.\n\n    In little tyme these ladyes founde\n    A grove with every pleasure crounde:\n    At whose sweete entrie did resounde\n    A foorde that flowrd that holy grounde.\n\n    From thence the sweete-breathd winds convay\n    Odors from every mirtle spray:\n    And other flowrs, to whose aray\n    A hundred harpes and timbrels play.\n\n    All pleasurs studie can invent,\n    The dames eares instantly present:\n    Voyces in all sorts different,\n    The foure parts, and the diapent.[18]\n\n    Two tunes that from those voyces flie,\n    With admirable harmonie:\n    The tymbrell, harpe, and psalterie,\n    Rejoyce in rapting symphonie.\n\n    There did the vials voyce abounde,\n    In musicke angel-like profounde:\n    There did the phife dispredden rounde\n    His songe in many a variant sounde.\n\n    All birdes with tunefull bosoms sing,\n    The blackbird makes the woods to ring:\n    The thrush, the jay, and she[19] in spring\n    Rues the past rape of Thraces king.\n\n    Their shrill notes to the musicke plying,\n    Then all the different flowrs descrying,\n    The odors in abundance flying,\n    Prov'd it the bowre of Loves soft-lying.\n\n    The virgins something entered here,\n    And sprinckled with a little feare,\n    Their harts before that helde Love deare,\n    In Cupids flames encreased were.\n\n    And while each winged forester\n    Their proper rumors[20] did prefer,\n    Each virgins minde made waight on her\n    Applauses apt and singuler.\n\n    Deathles were he coulde there repose,\n    Each path his spycie odor stroes:\n    Of mirh and synamon there groes,\n    And of our blessed Ladyes rose.\n\n    Each tree hath there his severall blisse,\n    In fruites that never season misse:\n    Men may conceave how sweete Love is,\n    By that celestiall court of his.\n\n    The dauncing companies they see\n    Of young men and of maydens free;\n    Whose bodyes are as bright in blee,[21]\n    As starrs illustrate bodyes bee.\n\n    In which so mervaylous a guyse\n    Of unexpected novelties,\n    These virgins bosoms through their eyes\n    Were daunted with a quicke surprise.\n\n    Who stay their royall steads outright,\n    And almost from their seates alight:\n    Forgetting their endevors quight,\n    With that proud rumors sweete affright.\n\n    But when sad Philomene did straine\n    Her rape-full-raving brest againe,\n    These ladyes hearing hir complaine,\n    Were reinflamd in every vaine.\n\n    About the center of the spring,\n    A secret place is where they sing,\n    And use their supreme worshypping,\n    Of Loves neare-darting fiery king.\n\n    There many a two-shapt companie,\n    Of faunes, nimphes, satyres, meete and plie\n    The tymbrell and the psalterie,\n    Before Loves sacred majestie.\n\n    There beare they goblets bigg with wine,\n    And coronets of flowrs combine:\n    There nimphs and fauns demy-divine,\n    Doth Bacchus teach to foote it fine.\n\n    Who keepe true measure with their feete,\n    That to the instruments do fleete:\n    But olde Silenus playes not sweete\n    In consort, but indents the streete.[22]\n\n    The spring-sleepe did his temples lode,\n    As on a long-eard asse he rode:\n    Laughters excesse, to see him nod,\n    Dissolv'd the bosome of the God.\n\n    Fresh cups he ever cals uppon,\n    In sounds of imperfection,\n    With age and Bacchus overgon,\n    They stop his voyces organon.\n\n    Amongst this gamesome crew is seene,\n    The issue of the Cyprian Queene,\n    Whose head and shoulders fethered beene,\n    And as the starrs his countnance sheene.\n\n    In his left hand his bow he bare,\n    And by his side his quiver ware:\n    In powre he sits past all compare,\n    And with his flames the worlde doth dare.\n\n    A scepter in his hand he hild,\n    With Chloris native flowrs untild,\n    And nectars deathles odors stild,\n    From his bright lookes the sunne did guild.\n\n    The triple Graces there assist,\n    Supporting with their brests commist,\n    And knees that Tellus bosome kist,\n    The challice of this amorist.\n\n    These ladyes now approched neare,\n    And worshipped exempt from feare\n    Loves god: who was environd there\n    With youth, that honord stiles did beare.\n\n    Their joy is superexcellent,\n    To see a court so confluent:\n    Whom Cupid, seeing their intent,\n    Doth with his greeting intervent.\n\n    He askes the cause for which they came:\n    They confidently tell the same:\n    And he gives prayse to eyther dame,\n    That durst so great a warre proclame.\n\n    To both he spake to make some pause,\n    Untyll their honorable cause,\n    Profoundly wayde in every clause,\n    Might be explande with all applause.\n\n    He was a God which well they know,\n    Rehearsall needes it not bestow:\n    They light and rest, and playnely show,\n    Where Love strives, Love wil maister grow.\n\n    Love lawes and judges hath in fee,[23]\n    Nature and use his judges bee:\n    To whom his whole courts censures flee,\n    Since past, and things to come, they see.\n\n    These do the hart of justice trie,\n    And show the courts severitie:\n    In judgment, and strong customs eye,\n    The clerke is fitst for venerie.[24]\n\n    Gainst which the queenes but little strove,\n    Since Loves high voyce did it approve:\n    So both to their abodes remove:\n    But as at first, rest firm in Love.\n\n              Translated by George Chapman(?)\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLEADING OF THE ROSE AND OF THE VIOLET[25]\n\n\nIn the presence of Imagination, before whom in due course of law\nactions are brought, an argument was one day commenced between the\nRose and the Violet. The matter, of which I treat, was most wisely\nconducted. To set forth fully points, process, articles, and case, the\nadvocate of the Rose appeared first and began as follows:\n\n\"Violet! I am here to propound a question in behalf of my lady, lovely\nRose; I hereby announce to you, and intend likewise to proclaim and\nsustain in all courts of the land, that Rose is of greater worth, more\ndesired, and more dearly esteemed than you are. That is just, for\nindeed she adorns the season with her color, more delicate than purple\nand crimson, and with her sweet fragrance. She lasts much longer in\nher beauty than do you, Violet; and, red or white, she springs in the\npleasant month of May to draw all lovers out of their sadness. Then do\nladies and youths, lords, bachelors and maidens gather her flowers,\nsome making chaplets of them and others weaving garlands to adorn\nthemselves.\"\n\nAt this point, the advocate of the Violet, who was very old, could no\nlonger keep silent, and broke in:\n\n\"O God! If I did not know how to speak, I might have to withdraw\nfrom this argument, but, if it please God, I shall speak, and I\nshall support the cause of Violet against Rose. Sir Advocate, I say\nand affirm, in spite of your speech, that Violet is more joyfully\nwelcomed, more beloved, and more desired than Rose. Here is the cause;\nnow listen to the truth. When a winter full of frost and chill shall\nhave put to rout, by its prolonged stay, trees and fruits, leaves and\nflowers, then men and women and children long for bright days, and\nwish the springtime to come swiftly, when they will hear the singing\nof larks and will find violets in orchards, gardens, and every pretty\nclose. There youths and maidens gather them and make gay chaplets, and\nmany put them under their pillows in token of delight and pleasure.\nAnd when this sweet and fresh season of spring comes anew, you may see\nmany people fastening violets in fresh green sprays of gooseberry,\nand arranging them so as to set off their beauty and fragrance. To\nspeak truly, Sir Advocate, one cannot do them too much honor. Now, I\npray you, sit down; for I would rest a little. But I will take up the\nargument again, if, indeed, there be any further need of my services.\"\n\nEach of the advocates seated himself, and Imagination set a day for\ntheir return, for she wished to hear them further.\n\n\n_Here follows how the Advocate of the Rose sets forth her Cause_\n\nNow they have come to the appointed day; may it dawn happily, for I\nwould hear most gladly the order of their discourse. The advocate\nof the Rose spoke first, for he was well versed in speaking, and he\naddressed them as follows:\n\n\"Before Imagination, who is my sovereign lady, I here make protest\nand vigorous complaint against the grievous charges with which Violet\noppresses us. When she wishes to detract from the power of the Rose,\nwhite and red, she shows little discrimination, and her advocate\nlikewise, for as black differs from white so it is clear the Violet\ndiffers from the Rose. I do not know who is counselling this advocate,\nbut certainly he is not endowed with good judgment; or if he is, it\ndoes not appear in this case. Now, to silence him completely I will\ngive some details, that he may take counsel of them. First of all, I\nwill compare the red rose, by figure, to the sun, for the round sun,\nwhen we see it rising at morning and setting at night, is in color not\nat all variegated, but sanguine indeed, and deep red as the red rose.\nThere are yet further considerations why one should greatly honor the\nRose. You know that there are two kinds of grapes, from which are made\nwhite wine and red, and with these wines the holy sacrament is solemnly\ncelebrated. I choose the white rose to stand for the white wine, and\nfor red wine the red rose. Indeed, they still cry in the streets, 'Come\nbuy the good wine _Rosette_.' Roses, white and red, have mysterious and\nagreeable virtue, for from them is made a liquid, called rose water,\nthat is good for healthy folk, and necessary for those that are ill,\nbecause it assuages strong fevers. It is refreshing to the face, and\nto the mouth and the hands. Many, indeed, wish their pillows, be it\nfor sleeping or waking, may be scented with the fragrance of the Rose.\nConsider where the Rose dwells. I call the rose-bush her house. God\nset her there, in all reason, not shut up in a tower, but enclosed\nabout with sharp thorns so that the young goats that love to pasture on\nviolets and nibble the leaves and tender shoots shall not touch roses\nnor buds.\"\n\nWith this, the advocate for the Rose was silent, having reviewed wisely\nand well, it seemed, the case of the Rose, red and white. The court\nadjourned for a little, until there was great impatience to know if the\nadvocate of the Violet, having heard the case for lovely Rose, would\nreturn to the debate. Truly, you shall hear how he responded with much\nwisdom. But I must write down his replies before I can recite them.\n\n\n_Here follows how the Advocate of the Violet sustains her Cause_\n\n\"O Advocate for Violet, come forward, for they bring points of\nopposition against you,\" said Imagination, \"and you will have to make\nreply to them, unless I am to dismiss the case.\"\n\nThe advocate answered, \"Lady, I am all ready, by my soul, to reply, and\nto do my duty, and to show that I have spoken truth. First of all, I\nstate, in plain prose, that I do not doubt the Rose may be beautiful\nand good and wise and may have many ways and uses that are much to be\ncommended; but I should like to ask her advocate if his figure of the\nsun is acceptable or quite truthful. The Rose is cool and moist, the\nsun hot; now, in this point, his argument is false. However, let that\ncount for what it may. My sword is as sharpened for all thrusts as his.\nHe is foolish who evades his opponent when he can attack him. I have\nboth occasion and motive for challenging him, and so I do it. He has\njust now compared the Rose to the sun; I assure him that I will not,\nby a still worse figure, compare violets to the stars or the planets.\nI will not strain his comparison farther, for that would be foolish.\nBut I will name them daughters of the round firmament, for they\nhave her own color, without white, black, red, or green. When clouds\ncame down from the heavens, the earth drank in their moisture and\nconceived violets, so she holds them in deep affection. Blue signifies\nsteadfastness; he or she who wears it, remember, must have a heart\nalways firm and steadfast and strengthened. Violets are flowers of good\nworth, fair to see and to wear. When ladies and maidens have fine gowns\nor rich hangings for their beds, if they scent them with violets people\nwill say, 'This robe is sweet,' and will enjoy the odor. Violets, dear\nmasters, have further power and virtue, which strengthens my argument\nand overthrows all your specious comments.\n\n\"Take violets and roses, and, to test their power, throw them into\nbrandy, to see what will happen and what will become of their odor.\nThe brandy, which is powerful, will take away substance and vigor\nfrom the lovely Rose, while the Violet will persist in its fragrance;\nthis is certain. So I hold her, and with reason, to be of far greater\nimportance and of much nobler quality than the Rose. Furthermore, there\nis made from violets a good lotion which gives comfort to sick people,\nand from the plants and roots are made several medicines, but you\ncannot make anything out of a rose-bush, except a fire in winter. And\nif goats or sheep do browse on violets, I am sure that the milk they\ngive does much good to the children who drink it.\"\n\nThen Master Papin, the advocate of the Rose, stood up and wished to say\nsomething, but Imagination spoke before him, and said, \"Where are you\ngoing, Sir Advocate? You weary us with so much talking. Who wants to\nlisten to your speeches? They would fill four rolls. We must stop your\npleading, for we are compelled to hear other cases.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said the advocate, \"you ought to hear all suits out; for that\nis your court open. Do not be so hasty; you complain of the debate too\nsoon. Pronounce your just decision on our case.\"\n\nImagination, at these words, declared that she would hear no more, nor\nwould she give a decision.\n\n\"Who will then? Tell us that, Lady!\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" she replied; \"you have elsewhere a court of appeal for\njudging right and wrong, which is higher than mine.\"\n\n\"And where is it? Lead us to it, or direct us, and we will go there.\"\n\nImagination replied, \"Good sir Advocate, the noble and high\nFleur-de-lys, whom men should hold in dear esteem, has sovereignty, has\nshe not, over the Rose and all other flowers? Indeed she has and always\nhas had and shall have, as is just; for as the lion is king of beasts\nand the eagle king of birds, so, I assure you, is the Fleur-de-lys\nsovereign lady over all flowers, and most exalted. Therefore go to\nher court,\u2014happy is he who has recourse to it,\u2014I cannot send you to a\nbetter place to plead your cause. The way is not very long; say that I\nsent you there for counsel, that they may help you.\"\n\n\"Ah, dear lady, and where does the Fleur-de-lys live? Since this is so,\nwe will go there, if it please you.\"\n\nShe responds, without hesitation, \"In the noble realm of France.\nThere you will find with all delight the noble and high Fleur-de-lys\nsurrounded in state by a fair and goodly company: Hardihood, Youth,\nWisdom, Honor, and Largesse, by whom you will be welcomed gladly and\nadvised with counsel gracious and wise. For the King, Orleans and\nBourbon, Berry, Bourgoyne, Eu, and La Marche will not break their\npromise to study wisely, to consider loyally, and to examine your\ndispute, which will be pleasing to them. And when they have heard it, I\nbelieve that they will answer so wisely and so to the point that there\nwill never be more argument between Rose and Violet such as this plea\ndeals with. And if, through any difficulty in the affair, it should be\nnecessary to have counsel, you know there are still the Marguerites,\nsmall and beautiful flowers, whom it is a pleasure to meet again at all\nseasons, summer and winter, and there are several other noble flowers,\nwith which her court is much adorned, who may give her faithful\ncounsel. Go there, I advise you.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said he, \"that is our purpose.\" With that the hearing was\nclosed.\n\n      Translated by Marion E. Markley\n\n\n\n\nVISION\n\n\nTHE PURGATORY OF SAINT PATRICK\n\n\n\n\nTHE PURGATORY OF SAINT PATRICK[26]\n\n\nSaint Patrick felt such pity for the Irish folk, who lived in deadly\nsin and false belief, that he constantly besought them to turn to God\nand obey His law, but they were so full of wickedness that they scorned\nevery word he spoke. They all said that they would not repent nor cease\nfrom evil unless he would undertake the adventure of going down into\nhell to bring them back tidings of the pain and woe which souls suffer\nthere evermore. The saint was sorely dismayed upon hearing this, and,\noften, with fasting and prayer, he begged Jesus Christ to grant him the\ngrace to find a way by which he might bring the people of Ireland out\nof bondage to the fiend, and lead them to believe in God Omnipotent.\n\nOnce, while he was in holy church, praying thus, he fell asleep before\nthe altar, and began to dream of heaven's bliss; he thought that Jesus\ncame to him and gave him a book such as no clerk can ever write,\ntelling all manner of good tidings of heaven and earth and hell, and of\nGod's mystery. Into his hand God put a fair staff, which to this day\nis called, in Ireland, God's staff. And God led him straightway thence\ninto a great desert where was a secret opening, grisly to see. Round\nit was, and black; in all the world it has no mate. When Saint Patrick\nsaw that sight he was greatly troubled in his sleep, but God revealed\nto him that if a man who had sinned against the holy law and yet truly\nrepented should do penance in this hole, a day and a night, his sins\nwould be forgiven him. If the man were of good faith, steadfast in\nbelief, he should see the strong pains of those who have sinned in this\nworld, but should not suffer himself, and finally, he should behold the\njoy that lasts for aye in paradise. Then Jesus withdrew his gracious\ncountenance and left Patrick there alone.\n\nWhen the saint awoke he found God's tokens, and, taking them in his\nhand, he knelt to thank Jesus Christ for revealing to him how he might\nturn the Irish folk to amendment. On that spot, without delay, he had\na fair abbey built, in the name of God and of our Lady. The abbey had\nno equal anywhere; solace and glee and rejoicing abounded for poor and\nfor rich. White canons regular were placed there to serve God early\nand late and to be holy men. The book and the staff God gave him men\nmay still see. In the east end of the abbey is that grisly hole, with\na good stone wall all around it, and a gate with lock and key. That\nvery spot is called the right entrance to Patrick's Purgatory, for\nin the times when this happened many a man went down to hell, as the\nstory tells us, and suffered pain for his trespasses, and then returned\nagain, through God's grace. They all said, when they had come out,\nthat they had indeed seen the very pains of hell and also the joys of\nangels singing to God and to his hosts. That is the joy of paradise:\nJesus bring us thither! When the people of Ireland began to understand\nthe joys described by Saint Patrick, they all came to him and were\nchristened at the font and forsook their misdeeds. So they became good\nChristians through knowledge of God and the prayers of Saint Patrick.\nNow hearken, and I will tell you about another thing, if you care to\nhear it.\n\nIn the days of Stephen, a king who ruled England wisely, there was in\nNorthumberland a knight who was a brave and valiant man. He was born in\nthat country, and was called Owain. He knew much about battle, and he\nwas very sinful towards his Creator. One day, bethinking himself of his\nsins, he was filled with dread, and he determined, through God's grace,\nto be shriven and sin no more. By chance, he came to the Bishop of\nIreland, in that abbey where the hole of penance was, and he confessed\nand prayed that a sore penance be laid upon him, for never again, he\nsaid, would he sin. The bishop was glad of this promise, and, after\nrebuking Owain sharply for his evil deeds, said that he must undertake\nmany hard tasks of penance. The knight answered, \"Gladly will I do what\nGod ordains, though it be to go into Patrick's Purgatory.\" The bishop,\ndescribing to him the torments of the place, said, \"Nay, friend Owain,\nthat way thou shalt not go. Take some other penance in expiation of\nthy sins.\" However, for all the bishop could say the knight would not\nyield, so the bishop led him into the holy church and taught him the\nlaw of God.\n\nFifteen days he spent in affliction, in fasting, and in prayer, and\nthen the prior, at the head of a procession with cross and banner,\nbrought him to the hole. The prior said, \"Knight Owain, here is thy\nway, go right forward; when thou hast proceeded a long distance and\nhast lost the light of day, still keep directly north. Thou shalt go\nthus under the earth, and then, very soon, thou wilt find a great field\nwhere there is a hall of stone, unlike any other in the world. Some\nlight there is, but no more than appears when the sun goes to ground\nin winter. Into that hall thou shalt go and stay until folk come to\nsolace thee. Thirteen[27] men will appear, all serjeants of God, and\nthey will counsel thee about thy course through purgatory.\"\n\nThen the prior and the convent commended him to God and went forth,\nshutting the gate. The knight took the way leading to the field where\nwas the hall of stone. The hall was the work of no earthly workman; it\nwas cleverly made in fashion of a cloister, with pillars on each side.\nWhen the knight had stood a long time, marvelling, he entered. Soon,\nthirteen wise men appeared, all dressed in white habits and with their\nheads newly tonsured. Their leader, advancing, saluted the knight, and\nthen sat down to instruct him: \"I shall counsel thee, dear brother,\nas I have many another who has passed this way, to be of good faith,\ncertain, and without doubt, for thou wilt see, when we have departed,\na thousand fiends and more to lead thee to torment; take note that if\nthou dost obey them in the slightest thing, thy soul will be lost. Keep\nGod in thy heart, and think how He suffered from His wounds. Unless\nthou dost as I tell thee, thou wilt go to hell, body and soul, and be\nlost eternally. If thou dost speak God's high name, they cannot harm\nthee.\" When he had thus counselled the knight, the leader and his\nfellows commended him to God, and with benign looks went forth from the\nhall.\n\nOwain, left there in dread, began to lament and call upon God. Soon\nhe heard a piteous cry; he could not have been more frightened if the\nheaven had fallen. When he had recovered from the fear caused by that\ncry, there came flocking in a crowd of fiends, fifty score or more,\nloathsome things altogether. Crowding around the knight they laughed\nhim to scorn, saying that he had come in flesh and skin to win the\njoys of hell forever. The master fiend, falling upon his knees, said,\n\"Welcome, Owain; thou art come to suffer penance for thy sins, but thou\nwilt get no benefit, for thou shalt have torments, hard and strong\nand tough enough because of thy deadly sins. Never hadst thou more\nmischance than thou shalt have in our dance when we begin our sport.\nHowever, if thou wilt do our bidding, since thou art dear to us, our\nwhole company will bring thee back with tender love to the spot where\nthou didst leave the prior. If thou dost refuse, we shall prove to thee\nthat thou hast served us many a year in pride and luxury, and all our\ncompany will thrust their hooks at thee.\" Owain answered, \"I forsake\nyour counsel, and will endure my penance.\" When the fiends heard this,\nthey made a great fire in the hall, and binding him fast, feet and\nhands, they cast him into the midst of it. He called upon our Lord,\nand at once the fire vanished; no coal nor spark was left, through the\ngrace of God Almighty. As soon as the knight saw this he grew bolder,\nrealizing that it was the treachery of the fiends to try his heart.\n\nThen the devils went out of the hall, leading the knight with them to\na strange place, where nothing good entered, only hunger, thirst, and\ncold. He could see no tree, could hear no sound of wind, yet a cold\nblast blew that pierced his side. At last the fiends brought him to a\nvalley where the knight thought he must have reached the deepest pit of\nhell. As he drew nearer, he looked about, for he heard screaming and\ngroaning, and he saw a field full of men and women, each lying face\ndownward, naked, and with deadly wounds. They lay prone on the earth,\nbound with iron bands, screaming and wailing, \"Alas, alas, mercy,\nmercy, mercy, God Almighty!\" Mercy there was none, but only sorrow of\nheart and grinding of teeth, which was a grisly sight. That sorrow and\nmisery is punishment for the foul sin of sloth. Whosoever is slow in\nGod's service may expect to lie in purgatory in such torment.\n\nThat was the first pain that they inflicted on him, and after he had\nrecovered, they took him to a place where he saw more misery. Men and\nwomen crying out, \"Alas!\" and \"Welaway!\" lay there, faces upward,\nas the others had lain with faces downward, with feet and hands and\nheads nailed fast to the earth with nails glowing red. Owain saw\nloathsome fiery dragons sitting upon them; on others sat black toads,\nnewts, adders, and snakes that ate them, backs and sides. This is the\npunishment of gluttony; for the love of God be warned, since that sin\nflourishes all too widely. Owain thought a wind blew among them so\nbitter and so cold that it overthrew all who lay in purgatory. The\nfiends quickly leaped upon the sufferers and tore them furiously with\ntheir hooks. Whosoever, man or woman, is guilty of impurity in this\nlife, shall suffer in that prison. The fiend said to the knight, \"Thou\nhast been unclean and a great glutton, also; into this torment thou\nshalt be thrust unless thou wilt return speedily the way thou didst\ncome.\" Owain said, \"Nay, Satan, further still shall I go, through the\ngrace of God Almighty.\" The fiends would have seized him, but he called\nupon God Omnipotent, and they lost all their power.\n\nThey then led him into a spot where men never did any good deeds, but\nonly shameful and villainous ones. In the fourth field this was,\nfull of torments. There were people hanging by the feet from burning\niron hooks, others hung by the neck, the stomach, the back, and in\nother ways too numerous to mention. Some were hanging by the tongue,\nand their constant cry was \"Alas!\" and no other prayer. In a furnace\nwith molten lead and burning brimstone boiling over the fire were many\nfolk. Some lying on gridirons glowing against the flames were people\nwhom Owain had once known, but who were now entirely changed through\nthe penance they suffered. A wild fire surged among them, and all whom\nit seized, it burned, ten thousand souls and more. Those that hung by\nfeet and neck were thieves, or the companions of thieves, and wrought\nmen woe. Those that hung by the tongue and ever sang \"Alas!\" and cried\nso loudly were backbiters in their lives. Beware, man or wife, if thou\nart fond of chiding! All the places the knight came by were full of the\npains of purgatory. Whosoever takes the name of God in vain, or bears\nany false witness, suffers strong pains there.\n\nOwain saw where a grisly-looking wheel turned; huge it was, burning\nlike a brand as it wound around, and covered with hooks. A hundred\nthousand souls and more were hanging from the wheel. The fiends turned\nit about so fast that Sir Owain could not recognize anybody there. Out\nof the earth came a burning blue fire; it smelled foully, and it went\naround the wheel, burning the souls to a very fine powder. The wheel\nthat runs thus is for the punishment of covetousness that now reigns\neverywhere. The covetous man has never enough gold or silver or even\nploughs until Death fells him. The fiends said to the knight, \"Thou\nhast been covetous of winning land and men; upon this wheel thou shalt\nbe placed unless thou wilt return at once to thine own country.\" When\nhe refused, the fiends seized him, bound him fast upon the revolving\nwheel, and cast him in the midst. When the hooks tore him and the fire\nburned him, he thought of Jesus Christ. An angel bore him from the\nwheel, and all the fiends there could do him no harm.\n\nFurther he was led in great pain, until they came to a mountain that\nwas red as blood. Men and women stood on it, in misery, it seemed, for\nthey cried as if they were mad. The fiends then said to the knight,\n\"Thou art wondering about these men who make such doleful cheer. They\nhave deserved the wrath of God; soon they shall have such a drink as\nthey will not think pleasant.\" No sooner had he spoken than there came\na blast of wind that took fiends and souls and knight up almost into\nthe firmament, and then cast them down into a foul-smelling river that\nran under the mountain of fire as an arrow from a cross-bow. It was\nas cold as ice, and no one can describe the pain that he suffered.\nOwain was almost drowned in the water, and became so frenzied and\nfaint that he was well-nigh lost. As soon as he could think upon God\nhe was brought out of the water and carried to land. That pain is the\npunishment of wrath and envy. Envy was the blast of wind which cast him\ninto the smelling water. Let every man beware of it.\n\nThey led him forth quickly until they came to a hall whose like he had\nnever seen before; out of the hall came such heat that the knight began\nto sweat. He saw so foul a smoke that he stopped, and when the fiends\nperceived it they were pleased. \"Turn again,\" they began to cry, \"thou\nshalt die, unless thou dost withdraw.\" When he came to the hall door\nhe saw misery, a half of which he had never imagined. The hall was a\nplace of torments; those folk who were in that prison were stripped of\nall happiness, for the floor of the hall was full of pits, round and\nfilled to the top with brimstone, brass, copper, and other metals all\nmolten. Men and women stood in these, screaming and crying as if they\nwere mad; some stood up to the waist, others to the breast, and some to\nthe chin. Each man according to his guilt was fixed in that torment,\nto suffer that great heat. Some bore around their necks bags full of\npennies glowing with fire, and such meat they ate. These were usurers\nin this life. Beware, men and women, lest such sin hinder you. And many\nsouls there walked upright, bearing false measures and false weights,\nwhich fiends sat upon. The fiends said to the knight, \"Thou must bathe\nin this lead before thou go hence; because of thy usury and thy sin,\nthou must wash thyself somewhat.\" Owain feared that torment, and called\nupon God Omnipotent and His mother Mary. He was borne out of the hall,\nfrom the pains and all the fiends, when he made that outcry.\n\nSoon he was frightened by seeing a flame of fire, mighty and thick,\nspring out of the earth, like coal and pitch. Of seven colors was this\nfire, and some of the souls burning in it were yellow, some green, some\nblack, some blue, and some like adders. They were woful indeed. The\nfiends took the knight to the pit, and said, \"Now, Owain, thou mayst\nfind solace, for thou shalt shake with our fellows in the pit of hell.\nThese are our birds in our cage, and this is our court and our castle\ntower. Dost thou think, Sir Knight, that to those who are brought here\nanything is sharp? Now turn again, ere it be too late, before we thrust\nthee into hell gate, for thou shalt never issue out of it by means of\nany crying or calling upon Mary, or by any other trick.\" The knight was\nfirm, so the fiends seized and bound him, and cast him far down into\nthat dark, evil, reeking prison. The farther down they thrust him the\nhotter it was, and he suffered cruelly. With good will and steadfast\nheart he called upon God Omnipotent to help him out of that torment,\nand he was borne up out of the pit, otherwise he would have been lost\nuntil the day of his death. That suffering, which lasts forever, is for\nthe foul sin of pride.\n\nOutside the pit he realized how God had rescued him. His clothes were\ntorn to pieces, his body was burned all over, and he knew not which\nway to go. He changed color when he saw more fiends, none of whom he\nrecognized in that strange place. Some of them had sixty eyes that were\nloathsome and grisly, some had sixty hands. They said, \"Thou shalt not\nbe alone, but shalt have us for company, to teach thee the new laws,\nas before thou didst learn them in that spot where thou wast among our\nfellows.\" The fiends then led the knight towards a foul-smelling body\nof water, such as he had never seen. It was many miles in breadth and\nblack as pitch. Owain saw passing over it a very strong but narrow\nbridge. The fiends said, \"Lo, Sir Knight, seest thou this? This is the\nbridge of paradise; across this thou must go, and we shall hurl stones\nat thee, and the wind shall blow thee over and work thee woe. Thou wilt\nnever pass over this without falling into the midst of our fellows to\ndwell forevermore. When thou hast fallen down, then all our company\nwill come and wound thee with their hooks. We shall teach thee a new\nsport, for thou hast served us many a day, and we will lead thee into\nhell.\"\n\nOwain beheld the bridge and the water under it, so black and dreadful,\nand began to be sore afraid because of one thing he noted: never did\nmotes dance in the sunbeam thicker than that company of fiends. The\nbridge[28] was as high as a tower and as sharp as a razor; narrow\nit was, and the water running underneath burned with lightning and\nthunder. He was exceedingly woful. There is no clerk who may write with\nink, nor no man who can think, nor no master who can divine, one half\nof the torment there is under the bridge of paradise. We are told that\nthere is the true entrance to hell. Saint Paul bears witness. Whosoever\nfalls down from the bridge will never have redemption in any degree.\n\nThe fiends then said to the knight, \"There is no need for thee to cross\nthis bridge. Flee pain, sorrow, and woe, and we will lead thee fairly\nback to that place from which thou didst come.\" Owain began to recall\nfrom how many of the tricks of the fiends God had saved him, so he set\nhis foot upon the bridge, and felt no sharp edge, nor was he at all\nafraid. When the fiends saw that he was more than half over, they began\nto cry aloud, \"Alas, alas, that he was born, this knight we have lost\nfrom our prison!\"\n\nWhen he was safely across the bridge, he thanked God Omnipotent and\nHis mother Mary, who had sent him such grace, that he was delivered\nout of torment into a better region. A cloth of gold was brought to\nhim, he knew not how except that God sent it. That cloth he put on, and\nat once all his wounds from being burned were whole, and he thanked\nthe Trinity. Looking ahead, he saw what seemed to be a stone wall. He\ngazed far and near, but could see no end of this, which shone all of\nred gold. Farther on he saw a gate, a fairer one may never be in this\nworld. It was made, not of wood nor of steel, but of red gold and of\nprecious stones, created by God out of nothing. Jasper, topaz, crystal,\npearls, and coral, rich sapphires, rubies, chalcedonies, onyxes, and\ndiamonds were wrought into tabernacles. Richer they might not be; they\nhad pillars small and beautifully fashioned, with arches of carbuncles,\nknots of red gold, and pinnacles of crystal. Inasmuch as our Savior\nis more skilful than any goldsmith or painter in any land, so are the\ngates of paradise more richly wrought than any other.\n\nThe gates unfastened themselves, and a fragrance like balm came forth,\nof such sweetness that the knight took fresh strength and thought that\nnow he would be a thousand times better prepared to suffer pain and woe\nand to fight against all the fiends if he had to go back the way he\ncame. He went near the gate and saw approaching a procession of folk\nwith gracious countenances, bearing tapers and candlesticks of gold\nand crosses and banners. Popes there were, of great dignity, and many\ncardinals, kings and queens, knights, abbots superior, monks, canons,\nand preaching friars, and bishops who bore crosses. Minorite friars and\nJacobins, Carmelites and Austin friars, black and white nuns\u2014all manner\nof religious orders went in that procession. The order of wedlock came\nalso, with many men and women who thanked God for sending his grace to\ndeliver the knight from torment by the fiends, and to bring him alive\nto that spot. When the praises had thus been sung, two archbishops came\nout of the midst of that company, bearing palms of gold. They advanced\nto the knight, and, taking him between them, led him up and down, and\nshowed him still greater joys and also much melody. Merry were their\ncarols of joy and minstrelsy. They went carolling with a joy no man can\ndivine, singing and praising God; angels guided them with harps and\nfiddles and psaltery, and bells rang merrily. No man may carol there\nexcept him who is clean from sin and who has given up all folly. Now\nmay God and His mother Mary, in memory of Thy wounds, grant that we\nmay carol in that hall. This same joy is granted for love and charity\ntowards God and all mankind. Whosoever lets earthly love alone and\nloves God in Trinity may carol thus.\n\nOther joys he saw in abundance: high trees, with many branches, on\nwhich the birds of heaven sat and sang their notes with merry glee,\nsome low, some intermediate, and some high. He thought indeed that with\nthe song of those birds he might live happily there until the end of\nthe world. Then he saw the tree of life, because of which Adam and his\nwife went to hell. Fair were the arbors, there, with flowers,\u2014roses and\nlilies of many colors, primroses and periwinkle, mint, featherfoy and\neglantine, columbine, and many others, more than man can think. Herbs\nof other kinds than on earth grow there, though that is the least of\nthe praises of the place. Forever they spring up green, sweeter than\nlicorice, unchanging in winter and summer.\n\nThere are wells in that spot, with water sweeter than any mead, and out\nof the chief one which Owain saw, run the four streams of paradise.\nPison, they call one stream that gleams brightly, because men find gold\nthere; Gihon is another that is much praised for the precious stones in\nits bed; the third stream is named Euphrates, it runs straight along;\nand the fourth is Tigris, in all the world is there none other with\nstones so bright. Whosoever loves to live in purity shall have that\nsame bliss and see that same sight. More Owain saw there, under God's\nglory on high; blessed be His might!\n\nSome souls he saw apart by themselves, and some in groups of ten or\ntwelve; and when they met together they made as much rejoicing as\nsister does with brother. Some he saw going about in scarlet red, some\nin purple well wrought, and others in thin silk. They wore tunics and\nalbs, like what the priest wears at mass, some covered with gold work.\nThe knight knew well by their clothing in what state they were, and\nwhat deeds they had done when they were men's companions. I will tell\nyou a fair similitude drawn from the clear stars; inasmuch as one star\nis brighter to the sight and of more power than three others, so is it\nwith the joys of paradise. They are not all alike, yet he who has the\nleast joy thinks he has the most of all and calls himself very rich.\n\nThe bishops came again and, taking him between them, led him up and\ndown and said, \"Brother, God be praised, thy wish is fulfilled. Now\nlisten to our counsel. Thou hast seen with thine eyes both the joys and\nthe pains. We will tell thee ere thou dost pass hence, of our common\nfate. That land that is so full of sorrow, evening and morning, where\nthou as well as many other souls didst suffer sorely, is called by men\npurgatory. And this land, where thou now art, so wide and spacious and\nso full of bliss, is called paradise. No man may come here until he\nhas been purged and made clean there. When they come hither, we lead\nthem into joy, sometimes by groups of twelve and ten. And some are so\nbound, that they know not how long they must endure the heat; but if\ntheir friends who are left on earth have masses sung, or else give food\nor some other kind of alms, all the better will these folk speed and\nwill come out of their misery into this paradise, where joy and bliss\never are, and will live here in perfect peace. Just as they come out\nof purgatory, so pass we on to God's glory, which is the high kingdom\nof the celestial paradise, wherein enter only Christian folk to a joy\nunequalled. When we come out of the fire of purgatory we cannot pass\nat once into that place nor see God's face, but must dwell here a long\ntime. Even the child born tonight must pass through that pain before he\ncan enter heaven, and how much harder is it for an old man who has been\nlong in sin to come hither!\"\n\nForth they went until they saw a very high mountain where all was\npleasure. Finally they came to the top, and saw all its joys. There\nwere all manner of bird songs; much delight was there and evermore\nshall be. There is more joy in a bird's mouth than in any harp or\nfiddle or crouth,[29] whether on land or sea. That land so fair is\ncalled the terrestrial paradise; the other paradise, which is the\nkingdom of God, is above the air and has joys unequalled. (In the\nearthly paradise Owain was, which Adam had lost, and if Adam had done\naccording to the will of God, neither he nor his offspring would have\nhad to depart out of that joy. Yet, since Adam broke God's commandment\nso soon, God made him delve with pick and spade in the earth, to help\nhis wife and himself. God was very wroth with him. An angel of stern\ncountenance, bearing a sword of fire, came and made them sore afraid,\nand drove them out into the world, where they lived evermore in sorrow\nand woe. And when he died he came to hell, as did all his descendants,\nuntil the Son of God was born, by whose passion and death man was\nbrought out of that prison.)[30]\n\nThe bishops commanded the knight to tell them whether heaven seemed\nwhite or gray, blue or red, yellow or green. The knight answered,\n\"Methinks it is a thousand times brighter than any gold.\" \"Yet,\"\nsaid the bishop, \"that very place which is so bright is only the\nentrance, and every day, to make us blithe, we are refreshed by a sweet\nfragrance, which is food to our soul.\" Anon the knight was aware that\na flame of fire issued out from heaven's gate, and he thought that it\nflew all over paradise, giving forth a sweet smell. The Holy Ghost, in\nform of fire, alighted then upon the knight, by whose virtue he lost\nall his earthliness; and for this he thanked God's grace.\n\nThen the bishop said, \"God feeds us each day with His bread, but we\nhave no such knowledge of His grace, nor such a vision of His face as\nhave those who are on high. The souls who are at God's feast have joy\nthat lasts without end. Now thou, because of our common fate, must\nreturn again the way thou didst come. Keep thyself from mortal sin, so\nthat when thou art dead thou mayst be led by angels into the joy that\nhas no end.\"\n\nThen Owain wept bitterly and prayed for God's mercy that he might\ndwell there and might not behold again the strong pains of hell. From\nhis prayer he got no gain; so he took his leave and departed, although\nhe was very sorrowful. Fiends he saw\u2014ten thousand flying from him fast\nas arrows from a cross-bow. When he came to the hall he found the\nthirteen men therein. They all held up their hands, and thanked the\nmercy of Jesus Christ a thousand times and more, and bade Owain not to\nrest until he had returned to Ireland as quickly as he could go. And,\nas I find in the story, the prior of the purgatory had a token that\nnight that Owain had overcome his woes and would appear on the morrow,\nthrough grace of God Almighty.\n\nThen the prior, at the head of a procession with cross and banner, went\nat once to the hole where Owain had gone, and soon they saw a gleam of\nlight like a bright fire burning; then in the midst of the light came\nOwain, the knight of God. Then they knew well that Owain had been in\nparadise and in purgatory, and that he was a holy man. They led him\ninto holy church, to do God's office and to say his prayers. On the\nfifteenth day, the knight took staff and scrip and sought the holy\nplace where Christ bought us so dearly upon the cross and where He rose\nfrom death to life through the virtue of His five wounds. Blessed may\nHe be! And Bethlehem, too, he visited, where Christ was born of Mary,\nHis mother like the flower of the thorn. At last, returning to Ireland,\nOwain took the monk's habit and lived there seven years. When he died\nhe entered, truly, into the high joys of paradise, through the help\nof God's grace. Now for the love of Saint Owain, may God grant us the\nbliss of heaven above, in the presence of His sweet face! Amen!\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nSAINTS' LIVES\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF SAINT BRANDON\n\nTHE LIFE OF SAINT MARGARET\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF SAINT BRANDON[31]\n\n\nSaint Brandon, the holy man, was a monk and born in Ireland, and there\nhe was abbot of a house wherein were a thousand monks, and there he had\na full strait and holy life in great penance and abstinence, and he\ngoverned his monks full virtuously. And then within short while after\nthere came to him an holy abbot, that hight Birinus, to visit him, and\neach of them was joyful of other. And then Saint Brandon began to tell\nto the Abbot Birinus of many wonders that he had seen in divers lands,\nand when Birinus heard that of Saint Brandon, he began to sigh and sore\nweep, and Saint Brandon comforted him in the best wise that he could,\nsaying, \"Ye come hither for to be joyful with me, and therefore for\nGod's love leave your mourning, and tell me what marvels ye have seen\nin the great sea ocean that compasseth all the world about and all\nother waters come out of him, which runneth in all parts of the earth.\"\n\nAnd then Birinus began to tell to Saint Brandon and to his monks the\nmarvels that he had seen, full sore weeping, and said: \"I have a son,\nhis name is Mervok, and he was a monk of great fame, which had great\ndesire to seek about by ship in divers countries to find a solitary\nplace wherein he might dwell secretly out of the business of the world\nfor to serve God quietly with more devotion. And I counselled him to\nsail into an island far in the sea beside the Mountain of Stones,\nwhich is full well known; and then he made him ready and sailed thither\nwith his monks. And when he came thither he liked the place full well,\nwhere he and his monks served our Lord full devoutly.\"\n\nAnd then Birinus saw in a vision that this monk Mervok was sailed right\nfar eastward in the sea, more than three days' sailing, and suddenly,\nto his seeming, there came a dark cloud and over-covered them, that a\ngreat part of the day they saw no light, and, as our Lord would, the\ncloud passed away and they saw a full fair island, and thitherward they\ndrew. In that island was joy and mirth enough, and the earth of that\nisland shined as bright as the sun; and there were the fairest trees\nand herbs that ever any man saw, and there were many precious stones\nshining bright, and every herb there was full of flowers, and every\ntree full of fruit, so that it was a glorious sight and a heavenly joy\nto abide there.\n\nAnd then there came to them a fair young man, and full courteously he\nwelcomed them all, and called every monk by his name, and he said that\nthey were much bound to praise the name of our Lord Jesu, that would,\nof His grace, shew to them this glorious place where is ever day and\nnever night. And this place is called Paradise Terrestrial. By this\nisland is another island wherein no man may come, and this young man\nsaid to them: \"Ye have been here half a year without meat, drink, or\nsleep,\" and they supposed they had not been there the space of half\nan hour, so merry and joyful they were there. And the young man told\nthem that this is the place that Adam and Eve dwelt in first, and ever\nshould have dwelled here if that they had not broken the commandment of\nGod.\n\nThen the young man brought them to their ship again and said they\nmight no longer abide there; and when they were all shipped, suddenly\nthis young man vanished away out of their sight. And then within short\ntime after, by the purveyance of our Lord Jesu Christ, they came to\nthe abbey where Saint Brandon dwelled, and then he with his brethren\nreceived them goodly and demanded them where they had been so long, and\nthey said: \"We have been in the Land of Behest, tofore the gates of\nparadise, whereas is ever day and never night.\" And they said all that\nthe place is full delectable, for yet all their clothes smelled of the\nsweet and joyful place.\n\nAnd then Saint Brandon purposed soon after for to seek that place by\nGod's help, and anon began to purvey for a good ship and a strong, and\nvictualled it for seven years. And then he took his leave of all his\nbrethren and took twelve monks with him, but, ere they entered into\nthe ship, they fasted forty days and lived devoutly, and each of them\nreceived the sacrament. And when Saint Brandon with his twelve monks\nwere entered into the ship, there came other two of his monks and\nprayed him that they might sail with him, and then he said: \"Ye may\nsail with me, but one of you shall go to hell ere you come again.\" But\nfor all that they would go with him.\n\nAnd then Saint Brandon bade the shipmen to wind up the sail, and forth\nthey sailed in God's name, so that on the morrow they were out of\nsight of any land. And forty days and forty nights after they sailed\nplat east, and then they saw an island far from them; and they sailed\nthitherward as fast as they could, and they saw a great rock of stone\nappear above all the water; and three days they sailed about it ere\nthey could get into the place, but at the last, by the purveyance of\nGod, they found a little haven and there went aland every each one. And\nthen suddenly came a fair hound, and fell down at the feet of Saint\nBrandon and made him good cheer in his manner. And then he bade his\nbrethren be of good cheer, \"For our Lord hath sent to us his messenger\nto lead us into some good place.\" And the hound brought them into a\nfair hall, where they found the tables spread, ready set full of good\nmeat and drink. And then Saint Brandon said graces, and then he and his\nbrethren sat down and ate and drank of such as they found, and there\nwere beds ready for them wherein they took their rest after their long\nlabour.\n\nAnd on the morn they returned again to their ship, and sailed a long\ntime in the sea after, ere they could find any land, till at last, by\nthe purveyance of God, they saw far from them a full fair island, full\nof green pasture, wherein were the whitest and greatest sheep that ever\nthey saw; for every sheep was as great as an ox. And soon after came to\nthem a goodly old man, which welcomed them and made to them good cheer,\nand said: \"This is the Island of Sheep. And here is never cold weather\nbut ever summer, and that causeth the sheep to be so great and white:\nthey eat of the best grass and herbs that is anywhere.\" And then this\nold man took his leave of them and bade them sail forth right east, and\nwithin short time, by God's grace, they should come into a place like\nparadise wherein they should keep their Eastertide.\n\nAnd then they sailed forth, and came soon after to that land, but could\nfind no haven because of little depth in some place, and in some place\nwere great rocks. But at the last they went upon an island, weening\nto them that they had been safe, and made thereon a fire for to dress\ntheir dinner, but Saint Brandon abode still in the ship. When the fire\nwas right hot and the meat nigh sodden, then this island began to move,\nwhereof the monks were afeard, and fled anon to the ship and left\nthe fire and meat behind them, and marvelled sore of the moving. And\nSaint Brandon comforted them and said that it was a great fish named\nJasconye, which laboureth night and day to put his tail in his mouth\nbut for greatness he may not.\n\nAnd then anon they sailed west three days and three nights ere they\nsaw any land, wherefore they were right heavy, but soon after, as\nGod would, they saw a fair island full of flowers, herbs, and trees;\nwhereof they thanked God of His good grace, and anon they went on land.\nAnd when they had gone long in this, they found a full fair well, and\nthereby stood a fair tree full of boughs, and on every bough sat a fair\nbird, and they sat so thick on the tree that unnethe any leaf of the\ntree might be seen. The number of them was so great and they sang so\nmerrily that it was an heavenly noise to hear, wherefore Saint Brandon\nkneeled down on his knees and wept for joy, and made his prayers\ndevoutly to our Lord God to know what these birds meant. And then anon\none of these birds fled from the tree to Saint Brandon, and he with\nflickering of his wings made a full merry noise like a fiddle, that\nhim seemed he heard never so joyful a melody. And then Saint Brandon\ncommanded the bird to tell him the cause why they sat so thick on the\ntree and sang so merrily. And then the bird said: \"Sometime we were\nangels in heaven. But when our master Lucifer fell down into hell for\nhis high pride, we fell with him for our offences, some higher and some\nlower, after the quality of the trespass, and because our trespass is\nbut little, therefore our Lord hath set us here, out of all pain, in\nfull great joy and mirth, after His pleasing, here to serve Him in\nthis tree in the best manner we can. The Sunday is a day of rest from\nall worldly occupation, and therefore this day all we be made as white\nas any snow for to praise our Lord in the best wise we may.\" And then\nthis bird said to Saint Brandon: \"It is twelve months passed that ye\ndeparted from your abbey, and in the seventh year hereafter ye shall\nsee the place that ye desire to come to. And all these seven years, ye\nshall keep your Easter here with us every year, and in the end of the\nseventh year ye shall come unto the Land of Behest.\"\n\nAnd this was on Easter Day that the bird said these words to Saint\nBrandon; and then this fowl flew again to his fellows that sat on\nthe tree, and then the birds began to sing evensong so merrily that\nit was an heavenly noise to hear. And after supper Saint Brandon and\nhis fellows went to bed and slept well; and on the morn they arose\nbetimes, and then those birds began matins, prime, and hours, and all\nsuch service as Christian men use to sing. And Saint Brandon with his\nfellows abode there eight weeks, till Trinity Sunday was passed.\n\nAnd they sailed again to the Island of Sheep, and they victualled them\nwell, and took their leave of that old man and returned again to ship.\nAnd then the bird of the tree came again to Saint Brandon and said:\n\"I am come to tell you that ye shall sail from hence into an island,\nwherein is an abbey of twenty-four monks, which is from this place\nmany a mile, and there ye shall hold your Christmas and your Easter\nwith us, like as I told you.\" And then this bird flew to his fellows\nagain.\n\nThen Saint Brandon and his fellows sailed forth in the ocean, and soon\nafter fell a great tempest on them in which they were greatly troubled\nlong time and sore for-laboured. And after that they found, by the\npurveyance of God, an island that was far from them, and then they\nfull meekly prayed our Lord to send them thither in safety, but it was\nforty days after ere they came thither; wherefore all the monks were so\nweary of that trouble that they set little price by their lives, and\ncried continually to our Lord to have mercy on them, and bring them to\nthat island in safety. And, by the purveyance of God, they came at the\nlast into a little haven, but it was so strait that unnethe[32] the\nship might come in; and after, they came to an anchor, and anon the\nmonks went to land. And when they had long walked about, at the last\nthey found two fair wells: one was fair and clear water, but the other\nwas somewhat troubly and thick. And then they thanked our Lord fully\nhumbly that had brought them thither in safety; and they would fain\nhave drunken of that water, but Saint Brandon charged them they should\nnot take without licence: \"For if we abstain us awhile, our Lord will\npurvey for us in the best wise.\" And anon after came to them a fair\nold man with hoar hair, and welcomed them full meekly and kissed Saint\nBrandon, and led them by many a fair well till they came to a fair\nabbey, where they were received with great honour and solemn procession\nwith twenty-four monks all in royal copes of cloth of gold, and a royal\ncross was before them. And then the abbot welcomed Saint Brandon and\nhis fellowship, and kissed them full meekly, and took Saint Brandon\nby the hand and led him with his monks into a fair hall, and set them\ndown arow upon the bench, and the abbot of the place washed all their\nfeet with fair water of the well that they saw before, and after, he\nled them into a fraitour[33] and there set them among his convent. And\nanon there came one, by the purveyance of God, which served them well\nof meat and drink, for every monk had set before him a fair white loaf\nand white roots and herbs which were right delicious, but they wist not\nwhat roots they were. And they drank of the water of the fair clear\nwell which they saw before when they came first aland, which Saint\nBrandon forbade them.\n\nAnd then the abbot came and cheered Saint Brandon and his monks and\nbade them eat and drink for charity: \"For every day our Lord sendeth a\ngoodly old man that covereth this table and setteth our meat and drink\ntofore us, but we know not how it cometh, ne we ordain never no meat\nne drink for us, and yet we have been eighty years here, and ever our\nLord, worshipped may He be, feedeth us. We be twenty-four monks in\nnumber, and every ferial[34] day of the week He sendeth to us twelve\nloaves, and every Sunday and feast day twenty-four loaves, and the\nbread that we leave at dinner we eat at supper. And now at your coming\nour Lord hath sent unto us forty-eight loaves, for to make you and us\nmerry together as brethren. And always twelve of us go to dinner while\nother twelve keep the quire, and thus have we done these eighty years,\nfor so long have we dwelled in this abbey. We came hither out of the\nabbey of Saint Patrick in Ireland, and thus as ye see our Lord hath\npurveyed for us, but none of us knoweth how it cometh but God alone to\nwhom be given honour and laud, world without end. Here in this land\nis ever fair weather, and none of us hath ever been sick sith we came\nhither. And when we go to mass or to any other service of our Lord in\nthe church, anon seven tapers of wax be set in the quire and be lighted\nat every time without man's hand, and so burn day and night at every\nhour of service, and never waste ne minish as long as we have been\nhere, which is eighty years.\"\n\nThen Saint Brandon went to the church with the abbot of the place,\nand there they said evensong together full devoutly, and then Saint\nBrandon looked upward towards the crucifix and saw our Lord hanging\non the cross, which was made of fine crystal and curiously wrought.\nAnd in the quire were twenty-four seats for twenty-four monks, and\nthe seven tapers burning, and the abbot's seat was made in the midst\nof the quire. Then Saint Brandon demanded of the abbot how long they\nhad kept that silence, that none of them spake to other, and he said:\n\"This twenty-four years we spake never one to another.\" And then Saint\nBrandon wept for joy of their holy conversation. And then Saint Brandon\ndesired of the abbot that he and his monks might dwell there still with\nhim. To whom the abbot said: \"Sir, that may ye not do in no wise, for\nour Lord hath shewed to you in what manner ye shall be guided till the\nseven years be fulfilled, and after that term thou shalt with thy monks\nreturn into Ireland in safety, but one of the two monks that came last\nto you shall dwell in the Island of Ankers,[35] and that other shall go\nquick to hell.\"\n\nAnd as Saint Brandon kneeled in the church, he saw a bright shining\nangel come in at the window, and lighted all the lights in the church,\nand then he flew out again at the window unto heaven. Then Saint\nBrandon marvelled greatly how the light burned so fair and wasted not.\nThen the abbot said, \"It is written that Moses saw a bush all on afire\nand yet it burned not, and therefore marvel not hereof, for the might\nof our Lord is now as great as it ever was.\"\n\nAnd when Saint Brandon had dwelled there from Christmas even till the\ntwelfth day was passed, then he took his leave of the abbot of the\nconvent and returned with his monks to his ship. And he sailed from\nthence with his monks toward the abbey of Saint Illaries; but they had\ngreat tempests in the sea from that time till Palm Sunday.\n\nAnd then they came to the Island of Sheep and there were received of\nthe old man, which brought them to a fair hall and served them. And on\nShere Thursday[36] after supper he did wash all their feet and kissed\nthem, like as our Lord did to His disciples, and there they abode\ntill Saturday, Easter Even; and they departed and sailed to the place\nwhere the fish lay; and anon they saw their cauldron upon the fish's\nback, which they had left there twelve months tofore. There they kept\nthe service of the resurrection, on the fish's back, and after, they\nsailed that same day by the morning to the island whereas the tree of\nbirds was, and then the said bird welcomed Saint Brandon and all his\nfellowship, and went again to the tree and sang full merrily. And\nthere he and his monks dwelled from Easter till Trinity Sunday, as they\ndid the year before, in full great joy and mirth. And daily they heard\nthe merry service of the birds sitting on the tree.\n\nAnd then the bird told to Saint Brandon that he should return again at\nChristmas to the abbey of monks, and at Easter thither again, and the\nother deal of the year labour in the ocean in full great perils, and\nfrom year to year till the seven years be accomplished. \"And then shall\nye come to the joyful place of paradise and dwell there forty days in\nfull great joy and mirth. And after, ye shall return home into your\nown abbey in safety, and there end your life and come to the bliss of\nheaven to which our Lord bought you with His precious blood.\"\n\nAnd then the angel of our Lord ordained all thing that was needful\nto Saint Brandon and to his monks in victuals and all other things\nnecessary, and then they thanked our Lord of His great goodness He had\nshewed to them oft in their great need, and sailed forth in the great\nsea ocean, abiding the mercy of our Lord in great trouble and tempests.\n\nAnd soon after came to them an horrible fish which followed the ship\nlong time, casting so much water out of his mouth into the ship that\nthey supposed to have been drowned, wherefore they devoutly prayed\nGod to deliver them of that great peril. And anon after, came another\nfish, greater than he, out of the west sea, and fought with him, and\nat the last clave him into three pieces, and then returned again. And\nthen they thanked meekly our Lord for their deliverance from this\ngreat peril, but they were in great heaviness because their victuals\nwere nigh spent. But, by the ordinance of our Lord, there came a bird\nand brought to them a great branch of a vine full of red grapes, by\nwhich they lived fourteen days, and then they came to a little island,\nwherein were many vines full of grapes. And they there landed and\nthanked God, and gathered as many grapes as they lived by forty days\nafter, alway sailing in the sea in many storms and tempests.\n\nAnd as they thus sailed, suddenly came flying towards them a great\ngrip[37] which assailed them and was like to have destroyed them.\nWherefore they devoutly prayed for help and aid of our Lord Jesu\nChrist. And then the bird of the tree of the island where they had\nholden their Easter tofore came to the grip and smote out both his eyes\nand after slew him, whereof they thanked our Lord.\n\nAnd then they sailed forth continually till Saint Peter's day, and then\nsang they solemnly their service in the honour of the feast. And in\nthat place the water was so clear that they might see all the fishes\nthat were about them, whereof they were full sore aghast, and the monks\ncounselled Saint Brandon to sing no more, for all the fishes lay then\nas they had slept. And then Saint Brandon said: \"Dread ye not, for ye\nhave kept by two Easters the feast of the resurrection upon the great\nfish's back, and therefore dread ye not of these little fishes.\" And\nthen Saint Brandon made him ready and went to mass and bade his monks\nto sing the best way they could, and then anon all the fishes awoke and\ncame about the ship so thick that unnethe they might see the water for\nthe fishes, and when the mass was done, all the fishes departed so as\nthey were no more seen. And seven days they sailed always in that clear\nwater.\n\nAnd then there came a south wind and drove the ship northward, whereas\nthey saw an island full dark and full of stench and smoke, and there\nthey heard great blowing and blasting of bellows, but they might see\nnothing, but heard great thundering, whereof they were sore afraid\nand blessed them oft. And soon after, there came one starting out all\nburning in fire and gazed full ghastly on them with great staring eyes,\nof whom the monks were aghast, and at his departing from them he made\nthe horriblest cry that might be heard. And soon there came a great\nnumber of fiends and assailed them with hooks and burning iron malles,\nwhich ran on the water, following their ship fast, in such wise that\nit seemed all the sea to be on fire. But by the pleasure of our Lord,\nthey had no power to hurt nor grieve them nor their ship: wherefore\nthe fiends began to roar and cry and threw their hooks and malles at\nthem. And they then were sore afeard and prayed to God for comfort and\nhelp, for they saw the fiends all about the ship, and them seemed then\nall the island and the sea to be on fire. And with a sorrowful cry all\nthe fiends departed from them and returned to the place that they came\nfrom. And then Saint Brandon told to them that this was a part of hell,\nand therefore he charged them to be steadfast in the faith, for they\nshould yet see many a dreadful place ere they came home again.\n\nAnd then came the south wind and drove them further to the north, where\nthey saw an hill all of fire, and a foul smoke and stench coming from\nthence, and the fire stood on each side of the hill, like a wall, all\nburning. And then one of his monks began to cry and weep full sore, and\nsaid that his end was come and that he might abide no longer in the\nship; and anon he leapt out of the ship into the sea, and then he cried\nand roared full piteously, cursing the time that he was born and also\nfather and mother that begat him, because they saw no better to his\ncorrection in his young age, \"for now I must go to perpetual pain.\" And\nthen the saying of the blessed Saint Brandon was verified that he said\nto him when he entered. Therefore it is good a man to do penance and\nforsake sin, for the hour of death is uncertain.\n\nAnd then anon the wind turned into the north and drove the ship into\nthe south, which sailed seven days continually, and they came to a\ngreat rock standing in the sea, and thereon sat a naked man in full\ngreat misery and pain, for the waves of the sea had so beaten his body\nthat all the flesh was gone off, and nothing left but sinews and bare\nbones. And when the waves were gone, there was a canvas that hung over\nhis head which beat his body full sore with the blowing of the wind;\nand also there were two ox-tongues and a great stone that he sat on\nwhich did him full great ease.\n\nAnd then Saint Brandon charged him to tell him what he was. And he\nsaid: \"My name is Judas, that sold our Lord Jesu Christ for thirty\npence, which sitteth here thus wretchedly, howbeit I am worthy to be\nin the greatest pain that is. But our Lord is so merciful that He hath\nrewarded me better than I have deserved, for of right my place is in\nthe burning hell, but I am here but certain times of the year, that\nis, from Christmas to Twelfth Day, and from Easter till Whitsuntide\nbe past, and every feastful day of our Lady, and every Saturday noon\ntill Sunday that evensong be done. But all other times, I lie still\nin hell, in full burning fire, with Pilate, Herod, and Caiaphas;\ntherefore accursed be the time that ever I knew them.\"\n\nAnd then Judas prayed Saint Brandon to abide still there all that\nnight, and that he would keep him there still, that the fiends should\nnot fetch him to hell. And Saint Brandon said, \"With God's help thou\nshalt abide here all this night.\" And then he asked Judas what cloth\nthat was that hung over his head, and he said that it was a cloth that\nhe gave to a leper, which was bought with the money that he stole from\nour Lord when he bare His purse. \"Wherefore, it doth to me full great\npain now in beating my face with the blowing of the wind, and these two\nox-tongues that hang here above me, I gave them sometime to two priests\nto pray for me; them I bought with mine own money, and therefore they\nease me, because the fishes of the sea gnaw on them and spare me. And\nthis stone that I sit on lay sometime in a desolate place where it\neased no man, and I took it thence, and laid it in a foul way, where it\ndid much ease to them that went by that way, and therefore it easeth me\nnow, for every good deed shall be rewarded and every evil deed shall be\npunished.\"\n\nAnd the Sunday, against even, there came a great multitude of fiends,\nblasting and roaring, and they bade Saint Brandon go thence that they\nmight have their servant Judas, \"For we dare not come in the presence\nof our master but if we bring him to hell with us.\" And then said Saint\nBrandon: \"I let not you to do your master's commandment, but by the\npower of the Lord Jesu Christ, I charge you to leave him this night\ntill tomorrow.\" They said: \"How darest thou help him that so sold his\nmaster for thirty pence to the Jews, and caused Him also to die the\nmost shameful death upon the cross?\" And then Saint Brandon charged\nthe fiends by His passion that they should not noy him that night. And\nthen the fiends went their way, roaring and crying, towards hell to\ntheir master the great devil. And then Judas thanked Saint Brandon so\nruthfully that it was a pity to see. And on the morrow the fiends came\nwith a horrible noise, saying that they had that night suffered great\npain because they brought not Judas, and said that he should suffer\ndouble pain the six days following; and they took then Judas, trembling\nfor fear, with them to pain.\n\nAnd after, Saint Brandon sailed southward three days and three nights,\nand on the Friday they saw an island, and then Saint Brandon began\nto sigh, and said: \"I see the island wherein Saint Paul the hermit\ndwelleth and hath dwelled there forty years without meat and drink\nordained by man's hand.\" And when they came to the land, Saint Paul\ncame and welcomed them humbly. He was old and foregrown[38] so that no\nman might see his body. Of whom Saint Brandon said, weeping: \"I see a\nman that liveth more like an angel than a man, wherefore we monks may\nbe ashamed that we live not better.\" Then Saint Paul said to Saint\nBrandon: \"Thou art better than I, for our Lord hath shewed to thee more\nprivities than he hath done to me; wherefore, thou oughtest to be more\npraised than I.\"\n\nTo whom Saint Paul said: \"Some time I was a monk of Saint Patrick's\nabbey in Ireland and was warden of the place whereas men enter into\nSaint Patrick's Purgatory, and on a day there came one to me and I\nasked him what he was, and he said: 'I am your abbot, Patrick, and\ncharge thee that thou depart from hence tomorn early to the sea-side,\nand there thou shalt find a ship into which thou must enter, which\nGod has ordained for thee, whose will thou must accomplish.' And so\nthe next day I arose and went forth, and found the ship, in which I\nentered, and, by the purveyance of God, was I brought into this island\nthe seventh day after. And then I left the ship and went to land, and\nthere I walked up and down a good while, and then, by the purveyance\nof God, there came an otter, going upon his hinder feet, and brought\nme a flint stone and an iron to smite fire with, in the two foreclaws\nof his feet, and also, he had about his neck great plenty of fish,\nwhich he cast down before me and went his way. And I smote fire, and\nmade a fire of sticks, and did seethe the fish, by which I lived three\ndays. And then the otter came again and brought me fish for other three\ndays, and thus he hath done this fifty-one years, through the grace of\nGod. And there was a great stone out of which our blessed Lord made to\nspring fair water clear and sweet, whereof I drink daily. And thus have\nI lived one and fifty years. I was forty years old when I came hither,\nand am now an hundred and eleven years old, and abide till it please\nour Lord Jesu Christ to send for me; and if it pleased Him, I would\nfain be discharged of this wretched life.\"\n\nAnd then he bade Saint Brandon to take of the water of the well and to\ncarry it into his ship, \"for it is time that thou depart, for thou hast\na great journey to do, for thou shalt sail to an island which is forty\ndays' sailing hence, where thou shalt hold thine Easter like as thou\nhast done tofore, whereas the tree of birds is. And from thence thou\nshalt sail into the Land of Behest, and shalt abide there forty days,\nand after return home into thy country in safety.\"\n\nAnd then these holy men took leave each of other, and they wept both\nfull sore, and kissed each other. Then Saint Brandon entered into the\nship, and sailed forty days even south, in full great tempest, and on\nEaster Even they came to their procurator, which made to them good\ncheer, as he had beforetime. And from thence they came to the great\nfish whereon they said matins and mass on Easter Day, and when the mass\nwas done, the fish began to move and swam forth fast into the sea,\nwhereof the monks were sore aghast which stood upon him, for it was\na great marvel to see such a fish, so great as all a country, for to\nswim so fast in the water, but, by the will of our Lord, this fish set\nall the monks aland in the Paradise of Birds, all whole and sound, and\nthen returned to the place he came from. And then Saint Brandon and his\nmonks thanked our Lord of their deliverance of the great fish, and kept\ntheir Eastertide till Trinity Sunday, like as they had done beforetime.\n\nAnd after this they took their ship and sailed east forty days, and at\nthe forty days' end it began to hail right fast, and therewith came a\ndark mist which lasted long after, which feared Saint Brandon and his\nmonks, and they prayed to our Lord to keep and help them. And then anon\ncame their procurator and bade them to be of good cheer, for they were\ncome into the Land of Behest.\n\nAnd soon after, that mist passed away, and anon they saw the fairest\ncountry eastward that any man might see, and it was so clear and\nbright that it was a heavenly sight to behold, and all the trees were\ncharged with ripe fruit, and herb full of flowers. In which land they\nwalked forty days, but they could not see none end of that land, and\nthere was always day and never night, and the land temperate, ne too\nhot ne too cold.\n\nAnd at the last they came to a fair river, but they durst not go over,\nand there came to them a fair young man, and welcomed them courteously\nand called each by name, and did great reverence to Saint Brandon. And\nhe said to them: \"Be ye now joyful, for this is the land that ye have\nsought, but our Lord will that ye depart hence hastily, and He will\nshow you more of His secrets, when ye come again into the sea, and our\nLord will that ye lade your ship with the fruit of this land, and hie\nyou hence, for ye may no longer abide here, but thou shalt sail again\nto thine own country, and soon after thou comest home thou shalt die.\nAnd this water that thou seest here departeth the world asunder, for on\nthat other side of this water may no man come that is in this life. And\nthe fruit that ye see here is always thus ripe every time of the year;\nand always it is here light as ye now see. And he that keepeth our\nLord's hests at all times shall see this land or he pass out of this\nworld.\"\n\nAnd then Saint Brandon and his monks took of that fruit as much as they\nwould, and also took with them great plenty of precious stones, and\nthen took their leave, and went to ship weeping sore because they might\nno longer abide there. And then they took their ship and came home into\nIreland in safety, whom their brethren received with great joy, giving\nthankings to our Lord, which had kept them all these seven years from\nmany a peril and brought them home in safety, to whom be given honour\nand glory, world without end. Amen.\n\nAnd soon after, this holy man, Saint Brandon, waxed feeble and sick\nand had but little joy of this world, but ever after his joy and mind\nwas in the joys of heaven. And in a short time after, he, being full\nof virtues, departed out of this life to everlasting life, and was\nworshipfully buried in a fair abbey, which he himself founded, where\nour Lord shewed for this holy saint many fair miracles. Wherefore let\nus devoutly pray to this holy saint that he pray for us to our Lord\nthat He have mercy on us; to whom be given laud and honour and empire,\nworld without end. Amen.\n\n      Translated by William Caxton\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE OF SAINT MARGARET[39]\n\n\n_Here followeth the glorious life and passion of the blessed virgin and\nmartyr Saint Margaret, and first of her name_\n\n\nMargaret is said of a precious gem, or ouche, that is named a\nmargaret. Which gem is white, little, and virtuous. So the blessed\nMargaret was white by virginity, little by humility, and virtuous by\noperation of miracles. The virtue of this stone is said to be against\neffusion of blood, against passion of the heart, and to confortation\nof the spirit. In like wise the blessed Margaret had virtue against\nshedding of her blood by constancy, for in her martyrdom she was most\nconstant, and also against the passion of the heart, that is to say,\ntemptation of the devil. For she overcame the devil by victory, and\nto the confortation of the spirit by doctrine, for by her doctrine\nshe comforted much people, and converted to the faith of Christ.\nTheoteinus, a learned man, wrote her legend.\n\nThe holy Saint Margaret was of the city of Antioch, daughter of\nTheodosius, patriarch and prince of the idols of paynims. And she was\ndelivered to a nurse for to be kept. And when she came to perfect age\nshe was baptized, wherefore she was in great hate of her father.\n\nOn a certain day, when she was fifteen years of age and kept the sheep\nof her nurse with other maidens, the provost Olybrius passed by the way\nwhereas she was, and considered in her so great beauty and fairness,\nthat anon he burned in her love, and sent his servants and bade them\ntake her and bring her to him. \"For if she be free, I shall take her\nto my wife, and if she be bond, I shall make her my concubine.\" And\nwhen she was presented tofore him he demanded her of her lineage, name,\nand religion. And she answered that she was of noble lineage, and for\nher name Margaret, and Christian in religion. To whom the provost\nsaid: \"The two first things be convenient to thee, that is that thou\nart noble and art called Margaret, which is a most fair name, but the\nthird appertaineth nothing to thee, that so fair a maid and so noble\nshould have a God crucified.\" To whom she said: \"How knowest thou that\nChrist was crucified?\" He answered: \"By the books of Christian men.\"\nTo whom Margaret said: \"O what shame is it to you, when you read the\npain of Christ and the glory, and believe one thing and deny another.\"\nAnd she said and affirmed Him to be crucified by His will for our\nredemption, and now liveth ever in bliss. And then the provost, being\nwroth, commanded her to be put in prison. And the next day following\nhe commanded that she should be brought to him, and then said to her:\n\"O good maid, have pity on thy beauty, and worship our gods, that thou\nmayest be well.\" To whom she said: \"I worship Him that maketh the\nearth to tremble, whom the sea dreadeth and the winds and creatures\nobey.\" To whom the provost said: \"But if thou consent to me I shall\nmake thy body to be all to-torn.\" To whom Margaret said: \"Christ gave\nHimself over to the death for me, and I desire gladly to die for\nChrist.\" Then the provost commanded her to be hanged in an instrument\nto torment the people, and to be cruelly first beaten with rods, and\nwith iron combs to rend and draw her flesh to the bones, insomuch\nthat the blood ran about out of her body, like as a stream runneth\nout of a fresh springing well. They that were there wept, and said:\n\"O Margaret, verily we be sorry for thee, which see thy body so foul,\nand so cruelly torn and rent. O how thy most beauty hast thou lost for\nthy incredulity and misbelief! Now believe, and thou shalt live.\" Then\nsaid she to them: \"O evil counsellors, depart ye, and go from me; this\ncruel torment of my flesh is salvation of my soul.\" Then she said to\nthe provost: \"Thou shameless hound and insatiable lion, thou hast power\nover my flesh, but Christ reserveth my soul.\" The provost covered his\nface with his mantle, for he might not see so much effusion of blood,\nand then commanded that she should be taken down, and to shut her fast\nin prison, and there was seen a marvellous brightness in the prison, of\nthe keepers.\n\nAnd whilst she was in prison, she prayed our Lord that the fiend that\nhad fought with her, He would visibly show him unto her. And then\nappeared a horrible dragon and assailed her, and would have devoured\nher, but she made the sign of the cross, and anon he vanished away. And\nin another place it is said that he swallowed her into his belly, she\nmaking the sign of the cross. And the belly brake asunder, and so she\nissued out all whole and sound.\n\nThis swallowing and breaking of the belly of the dragon is said that it\nis apocryphal.\n\nAfter this the devil appeared to her in likeness of a man for to\ndeceive her. And when she saw him, she went to prayer and after arose,\nand the fiend came to her, and took her by the hand and said: \"It\nsufficeth to thee that thou hast done, but now cease as to my person.\"\nShe caught him by the head and threw him to the ground and set her\nright foot on his neck, saying: \"Lie still, thou fiend, under the\nfeet of a woman.\" The devil then cried: \"O blessed Margaret, I am\novercome. If a young man had overcome me I had not recked, but alas! I\nam overcome of a tender virgin; wherefore I make the more sorrow, for\nthy father and mother have been my good friends.\" She then constrained\nhim to tell why he came to her, and he answered that he came to her to\ncounsel her for to obey the desire and request of the provost. Then\nshe constrained him to say wherefore he tempted so much and so often\nChristian people. To whom he answered that naturally he hated virtuous\nmen, and though we be oft put aback from them, yet our desire is much\nto exclude them from the felicity that they fell from, for we may never\nobtain ne recover our bliss that we have lost. And she then demanded\nwhat he was, and he answered: \"I am Veltis, one of them whom Solomon\nclosed in a vessel of brass. And after his death it happed that they of\nBabylon found this vessel, and supposed to have founden great treasure\ntherein, and brake the vessel; and then a great multitude of us devils\nflew out and filled full the air alway, awaiting and espying where we\nmay assail rightful men.\" And when he had said thus, she took off her\nfoot and said to him: \"Flee hence, thou wretched fiend.\" And anon the\nearth opened, and the fiend sank in. Then she was sure, for when she\nhad overcome the master, she might lightly overcome the minister.\n\nThen the next day following, when all the people was assembled, she\nwas presented tofore the judge. And she, not doing sacrifice to their\nfalse gods, was cast into the fire, and her body broiled with burning\nbrands, in such wise that the people marvelled that so tender a maid\nmight suffer so many torments. And after that, they put her in a great\nvessel full of water, fast bounden, that by changing of the torments,\nthe sorrow and feeling of the pain should be the more. But suddenly\nthe earth trembled, and the air was hideous, and the blessed virgin\nwithout any hurt issued out of the water, saying to our Lord: \"I\nbeseech thee, my Lord, that this water may be to me the font of baptism\nto everlasting life.\" And anon there was heard great thunder, and a\ndove descended from heaven and set a golden crown on her head. Then\nfive thousand men believed in our Lord, and for Christ's love they all\nwere beheaded by the commandment of the provost Olybrius, that time in\nCampolymeath, the city of Aurelia.\n\nThen Olybrius, seeing the faith of the holy Margaret immoveable, and\nalso fearing that others should be converted to the Christian faith\nby her, gave sentence and commanded that she should be beheaded. Then\nshe prayed to one Malchus that should behead her, that she might have\nspace to pray. And that got, she prayed to our Lord, saying: \"Father\nAlmighty, I yield to Thee thankings that Thou hast suffered me to come\nto this glory, beseeching Thee to pardon them that pursue me. And I\nbeseech Thee, good Lord, that of Thy abundant grace, Thou wilt grant\nunto all them that write my passion, read it, or hear, and to them\nthat remember me, that they may deserve to have plain remission and\nforgiveness of all their sins. And also, good Lord, if any woman with\nchild, travailing in any place, call on me, that Thou wilt keep her\nfrom peril, and that the child may be delivered from her belly without\nany hurt of his members.\" And when she had finished her prayer there\nwas a voice heard from heaven, saying that her prayers were heard and\ngranted and that the gates of heaven were open and abode for her, and\nbade her come into the country of everlasting rest. Then she, thanking\nour Lord, arose up, and bade the hangman accomplish the commandment of\nthe provost. To whom the hangman said: \"God forbid that I should slay\nthee, virgin of Christ.\" To whom she said: \"If thou do it not thou\nmayest have no part with me.\" Then he, being afraid and trembling,\nsmote off her head, and he, falling down at her feet, gave up the ghost.\n\nThen Theoteinus took up the holy body, and bare it into Antioch, and\nburied it in the house of a noble woman and widow named Sincletia. And\nthus this blessed and holy virgin, Saint Margaret, suffered death, and\nreceived the crown of martyrdom the thirteenth kalends of August, as\nis founden in her story; and it is read in another place that it was\nthe third ides of July. Of this virgin writeth an holy man and saith:\n\"The holy and blessed Margaret was full of the dread of God, sad,\nstable, and worshipful in religion, arrayed with compunction, laudable\nin honesty, and singular in patience, and nothing was found in her\ncontrary to Christian religion; hateful to her father, and beloved of\nour Lord Jesu Christ.\" Then let us remember this holy virgin that she\npray for us in our needs.\n\n      Translated by William Caxton\n\n\n\n\nPIOUS TALES\n\n\nA MIRACLE OF GOD'S BODY\n\nA MIRACLE OF THE VIRGIN\n\nTHE TRANSLATION OF SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY\n\n\n\n\nA MIRACLE OF GOD'S BODY[40]\n\n\nThere was a man beyond the sea, a miner who lived in a city and who\nsought under the earth for the stones out of which men get silver and\ngold. He worked and dug in the hill, and a dreadful thing happened to\nhim: a large part of the mine fell down, closing him in. His fellows,\nwho were loyal to him, believed that he was dead, so they took counsel\ntogether and went to tell his wife. This woman bewailed her husband\nsorely (would God there were many such women!). She helped his soul in\nall ways by giving alms and offerings. She offered for his sake at the\naltar a pitcher full of wine and a fair loaf, also, every day during a\nwhole twelve months, except on one day. Few such women we find now, who\nare so kind to their husbands, but this wife with all her power wrought\nfor him both day and night.\n\nIt happened at the end of the twelve months that his fellows went to\nthe hill and came to the very place where they had left their companion\nat work. They began right there and, piercing through, found the man\nin good estate, alive, without any injury or wound. Each one was\nfilled with amazement, and there was good reason why the men should be\nin doubt as to how he had lived all that year. Then he told them how\nhe had lived there alone. \"I have lived a gracious life through the\ncourtesy of my wife, who every day has sent me wine and bread, except\non one day, when I ate nothing.\"\n\nThey led the man in to the town and told the miracle everywhere\nthrough the city and through the country. At last it happened that\nhe mentioned the name of the day when he fasted, and his wife said\nthe same thing,\u2014the day she made no offering was Good Friday. Now you\nmay hear how a devout deed of alms will feed a man, and so you may\nunderstand that God is always pleased with good offerings.\n\nIn spite of this tale, trust not your wives, nor your children, but\nmake your offerings yourselves. So kind a woman as I have told about\ndoes not live now, you may be sure. And no clerk who reads this will\never find one of such good deeds. You men who are now present and\nhear about the sacrament, know that the sacrament on the altar has\npower over all things, as I have shown to the ignorant but not to the\nlearned, for the clerks know it well. Let us pray our Creator that our\nSaviour, the Sacrament, will save us body and soul, and grant that we\nmay love Him and be His forever.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nA MIRACLE OF THE VIRGIN[41]\n\n\nLord, Maker of all things, Almighty God in majesty, that ever, without\nbeginning, wert and art and shall be, grant us both strength and\nopportunity so to serve Thy pleasure that we may, through Thy grace,\ndwell with Thee for ever and aye!\n\nWe ought to bear well in mind those miracles of our Lady which are\nwritten in true story, showing how helpful she ever is to mankind. Once\nupon a time it happened in a city,\u2014hearken well and ye may hear,\u2014when\nJews were wont to be together among Christians, Christians dwelt in one\nhalf of the city, and the Jews were forced to live in one street. The\nChristian children had made for themselves a pleasant place in a field,\nand there a Jew's child often played with them. The child's father\ntook no heed of this and never cast an eye upon him, therefore the\nchild came and went whenever he chose to play. So often did they play\ntogether that the Jew's son learned their games and was just like one\nof the Christian children, loved and welcomed by them.\n\nAt one Easter time, which the Christians kept with great solemnity,\na beautiful minster had been completed in the midst of the city, and\nto it the Christian folk went to hear both matins and mass, as, by\nChristian rule, is usual for both the high and the low. Every one in\nbest array, both husbands and wives, attended. The children followed\ntheir fathers, as they were wont, and the Jew's child with right good\ncheer was happy to go with them. When he was well within the church, he\nthought he had never been so glad as he was at that seemly sight, such\nas he had never seen before\u2014both lamps and tapers burning brightly,\naltars wonderfully ornamented, and beautifully wrought gold images of\nmany good saints.\n\nIn a chair sat a comely Queen, all decorated with gold; upon her arm\nshe bore a blissful Babe, in kingly crown as He should be. The child\nlooked long at that Lady and at that blissful Babe, and noted how\npeople told their beads before them, as Christian folk do. The Jew's\nchild felt such pleasure in all the sights he saw and thought them all\nso sweet, that he was almost ravished with joy. When high mass of the\nday was done, the priest bade all men kneel down; the Jew's child took\nheed of this and knelt among the Christians. Although he was pushed\nabout by the crowd, he was not afraid, and he spared no pains until he\ntoo received the sacrament. Of such a child no one took notice. When\nall things were brought to an end, and every Christian drew towards\nhome, the Jew, seeking his child throughout the town, saw him come from\nthe church. He asked his son where he had been while he had sought him\nall that day, and the boy told the whole story of what he had done and\nseen. The father then waxed mad with anger and said at once, \"Thou\ngettest thy reward\"; and going to his hot oven that gleamed as does\na glowing coal, he cast the child into it, intending to burn him to\nashes. With the mouth-stone he sealed the oven, and thought that the\ntruth would not be revealed.\n\nWhen his mother heard this, in the very place where she stood she fell\ninto a frenzy and for woe became as if mad. Always crying out, she\nwent tearing her hair, in every street in that city, now up, now down,\neverywhere, and folk wondered about her and felt great pity. The mayor\nand the bailiffs of the town, when they heard that cry, halted her and\nmade inquiry as to why she cried so wildly and put people in such fear\nand sorrowed so, especially on Easter Day. As soon as she could cease\nweeping, this woful mother answered, \"Sirs, ye have this city to keep;\nas lords ye must needs execute law. Alas! alas! I am destroyed, and\nmust have help of you; I pray for a just judgment; my cause I shall\nprove before you. My husband has burned my child\u2014shut him up in a\nglowing oven! Go, see, sirs, and I will give you gold enough.\"\n\nBoth mayor and bailiffs, together with the people, went to the Jew's\noven, and as soon as they had arrived, the mayor commanded, \"Put down\nthe stone.\" Then every man might easily see how the oven roof, that was\nround, was in appearance like glowing glass from roof to ground. The\nchild sat there whole and sound, not harmed in hand nor hair, amidst\nthe coals which were all about, just as if he sat in a cool arbor. The\nchild's mother, when she saw that, thought she had never been so glad;\ninto the oven she started towards him, and soon had him out with her.\nAnd all the people present there wondered at that strange sight and\npraised God with good intent, for a miracle is more than man's might.\nThey asked him, with one consent, how it was that he had had no harm\namong the brands that burned so brightly, and the child answered at\nonce:\n\n\"Never in all my life have I had such great happiness as came to me\nafter I was put into the oven. Both brands and coals, in truth, that\nwere beneath my feet, like fair flowers, like special spices, seemed\nsweet to me. The blissful Queen, that Maiden mild, who sits in church\non her throne, with that comely King, her Child, that blissful Babe\nthat she holds on her bosom, shielded me from all harm, from coals\nand brands that burned so clearly, from all the flames that flowed so\nwildly, and they could never come near me.\"\n\nThen men and women, all who were there, both small and great, low and\nhigh, praised God heartily for this miracle. The Jewess through her\nson's word was converted to Christ, anon, and the child and all the\nJews accepted the law of Christ. The mayor himself examined the Jew to\njudge of his trespass, and twelve men were sworn to speak the truth and\nto give their verdict upon the case. They took counsel together, and\ncame back with one consent. The words of their verdict were, \"In that\nsame oven he shall be burned.\"\n\nThus is ended this story of the miracle written above. Grant us joy in\nheaven on high, Lord Jesus, for Thy Mother's love. Amen.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRANSLATION OF SAINT THOMAS OF CANTERBURY[42]\n\n\nThe translation of the glorious martyr, Saint Thomas of Canterbury,\nwe shall shortly rehearse unto the laud and praising of Almighty God,\nthen in the fiftieth year after his passion, which was the year of\njubilee, that is, of remission. For, of ancient time, the fiftieth year\nwas called the year of the jubilee of pardon and remission, and is yet\nused among religious men. For when a religious man hath continued in\nhis order fifty years, then he shall be admitted to make his jubilee,\nand that made, he is pardoned and hath remission of many observances\nthat tofore he was bounden unto. Then in this year of jubilee from his\npassion, was the solemnity of his translation accomplished, in the time\nof Honorius, the third pope of that name. The which granted yearly\nremissions and indulgences so great and large, that tofore in no time\nof mind hath been seen any popes to have granted and given like. Then\nlet us call to mind that on a Tuesday his translation was accomplished.\nOn the Tuesday happed to him many things. On a Tuesday he was born,\non a Tuesday he was exiled, on a Tuesday our Lord appeared to him at\nPountney in France, saying: \"Thomas, my church shall be glorified in\nthy blood.\" On a Tuesday he returned from his exile, and on a Tuesday\nhe suffered martyrdom.\n\nThen how this holy translation was fulfilled now ye shall hear. The\nreverend father in God, Stephen, Archbishop of Canterbury, Richard,\nBishop of Salisbury, Walter, the prior of the same place, with the\nconvent, with spiritual songs and devout hymns, when it was night,\nwent to the sepulchre of this holy martyr, and all that night and day\nof his translation they persevered in prayers and fastings. And after\nmidnight, four priests, elected and thereto chosen, approaching to his\nbody, took up the holy head with great devotion and reverence, and unto\nthem all offered it for to kiss it. Then the archbishop and all the\nothers made great honour to it, and took all the relics of the precious\nbody, and laid them in a chest, and shut it fast with iron locks, and\nset it in a place for to be kept unto the day that the translation\nshould be solemnized. The day then of this holy translation being come,\nthere were present a great innumerable multitude of people, as well of\nrich as of poor. There was Pandulphus, a legate of our holy father the\npope, and two archbishops of France, of Rheims and Arles, with many\nother bishops and abbots, and also King Harry the Third with earls and\nbarons, which king himself took the chest upon his shoulders, and with\nthe other prelates and lords, brought it with great joy and honour in\nto the place where it is now worshipped, and was laid in a fair and\nmuch rich shrine. At whose holy translation were showed, by the merits\nof this holy martyr, Saint Thomas, many miracles. To blind men was\ngiven their sight, to deaf men their hearing, to dumb men their speech,\nand to dead men was restored life.\n\nAmong all others there was a man, because of great devotion that he had\nto be at this holy translation and visit the holy martyr, which came\nto the bridge at Brentford by London; and when he was in the middle of\nthe bridge, meeting there one, was cast into the water. This man, not\nforgetting himself, called Saint Thomas unto his help, and besought\nhim not to suffer his pilgrim to perish, ne to be there drowned. And\nfive times he sank down to the ground, and five times arose above the\nwater, and then he was cast to the dry ground. Then he affirmed that\nhe received no water into his mouth, nor into his ears that did to him\ngrievance nor hurt that he felt, save in his falling he felt in his\nmouth a little salt water; and added more thereto, saying that, when he\nsank, a bishop held him up that he might not sink.\n\nThis holy translation was done and accomplished the year of our Lord\ntwelve hundred and twenty, in the nones of July, at three o'clock, in\nthe fiftieth year after his passion. For this glorious saint our Lord\nhath showed many great miracles, as well by his life, as after his\ndeath and martyrdom. For a little tofore his death a young man died and\nwas raised again by miracle. And he said that he was led to see the\nholy order of saints in heaven, and there he saw a seat void, and he\nasked for whom it was, and it was answered to him that it was kept for\nthe great Bishop of England, Saint Thomas of Canterbury. There was also\na simple priest that daily sang no other mass but of our Lady, whereof\nhe was put to Saint Thomas his ordinary, whom accused, he opposed,\nand found him full simple of conning, wherefore he suspended him, and\ninhibited him his mass. Wherefore this priest was full sorry, and\nprayed humbly to our blessed Lady that he might be restored again to\nsay his mass. And then our blessed Lady appeared to this priest, and\nbade him go to Saint Thomas, and bid him \"by the token that the lady\nwhom thou servest hath sewed his shirt of hair with red silk, which he\nshall find there as he laid it, that he give thee leave to sing mass,\nand assoil thee of his suspending and thine inhibiting, and restore\nthee again to thy service.\" And when Saint Thomas heard this he was\ngreatly abashed, and went and found like as the priest had said, and\nthen assoiled him to say mass as he did before, commanding him to keep\nthis thing secret as long as he lived.\n\nThere was a lady in England that desired greatly to have grey eyes, for\nshe had a conceit that she should be the more beauteous in the sight\nof the people; and only for that cause she made a vow to visit Saint\nThomas upon her bare feet. And when she came thither, and had devoutly\nmade her prayers to have her desire, suddenly she wax stark blind, and\nthen she perceived that she had offended and displeased our Lord in\nthat request, and cried God mercy of that offence, and besought him\nfull meekly to be restored of her sight again. And by the merits of the\nblessed Saint Thomas she was restored to her sight again, and was glad\nto have her old eyes, and returned home again, and lived holy to her\nlife's end. Also there was a lord's carver that brought water to him at\nhis table, to whom the lord said: \"If thou hast ever stolen anything\nof mine, I pray God and Saint Thomas that thou have no water in the\nbason,\" and suddenly it was all void of the water and dry, and there\nwas he proved a thief.\n\nThere was a tame bird kept in a cage, which was learned to speak. And\non a time he fled out of the cage and flew into the field; and there\ncame a sparrowhawk and would have taken this bird and pursued after.\nAnd the bird, being in great dread, cried: \"Saint Thomas! help!\" like\nas he had heard others speak, and the sparrowhawk fell down dead, and\nthe bird escaped harmless.\n\nAlso there was a man that Saint Thomas loved much in his days, and he\nfell in a grievous sickness, wherefore he went to the tomb of Saint\nThomas to pray for his health; and anon he had his desire and was all\nwhole. And as he turned homeward, being all whole, then he began to\ndread lest this health should not be the most profitable for his soul.\nThen he returned again to the tomb of Saint Thomas, and prayed if his\nhealth were not profitable to his soul that his old sickness might\ncome again to him. And it came anon again to him, and endured unto\nhis life's end. And in like wise there was a devout blind man which\nhad his sight restored to him again by the merit of Saint Thomas; but\nafter, he repented him, for he could not be so quiet in his mind as\nhe was before, he had then so much letting by seeing the vanities of\nthe world. Wherefore he prayed to our Lord that by the merits of Saint\nThomas he might be blind again to the world as he was before, and anon\nhe had his desire, and lived after full holily to his life's end. Who\nshould tell all the miracles that our blessed Lord hath showed for this\nholy martyr, it should overmuch endure, for ever sith his passion unto\nthis day, God hath showed continually for him many great miracles. Then\nlet us pray this holy saint to be a special advocate for us wretched\nsinners unto our Lord God, who bring us unto His everlasting bliss in\nheaven.\n\n      Translated by William Caxton\n\n\n\n\nALLEGORY\n\n\nAN EXTRACT FROM \"THE CASTLE OF LOVE\"\n\n\n\n\nAN EXTRACT FROM \"THE CASTLE OF LOVE\"[43]\n\n\nThe King had a castle made, after His own device, so that it would\nnever dread the assault of any enemies. He set it on a white rock,\nthick and high, with good ditches all about, deep and wide. Men can\nnever undermine this castle by any kind of craft, nor can any engine do\nit harm. The castle is ever full of love and grace for any one who has\nneed of succor. Four towers it has, with fair battlements, and three\ncourts. Heart cannot think nor can tongue tell all the bounty and the\nbeauty of this castle. Seven barbicans are set so securely that no\nmanner of shooting from without can cause harm. The castle is painted\non the outside in three colors: a red burning color is above, towards\nthe fair towers; the color of the middle portion is blue softer than\nindigo; and near the ground is green that never changes hue.\n\nThese colors cast such light both far and near that when men behold\nthem it greatly comforts their sight. The castle, within, is ever\nblanched as white as any driven snow. Four fair streams flow out of a\nwell in the middle of the highest tower and fill the ditches. So fair\nand so good is the water, that he who drinks of it has great bliss.\nA throne of ivory there was set in this tower, and seven steps lead\nupward, with great worship and honor. Never was a throne half so fair\nseen in this world; nor did prince or queen ever have so beautiful\na one. It was made subtilely, by wondrous design, and a rainbow\nsteadfastly arched above it. The King's Son made it for His own seat;\nnever was there one so fair, nor shall there ever be.\n\nThis castle of solace and of succor is the blessed body of her who bore\nour Saviour, and is a refuge for all mankind. Whosoever flees thither\nshall find succor. The rock, white and fair and stable, is her heart in\nall its holiness, that made her serve God without fear, in sovereign\npurity of meekness and maidenhood. The green color, by the ground, that\nwill last so well, is the truth of our lady, aye steadfast. The central\ncolor in the midst of this castle wall is enduring hope to attain the\ngrace that saves mankind. The red color above, burning to the sight, is\nthe burning love of God and man, that gives great light. No wonder if\nthis castle is wholly white within, for the heart of that maiden was\nnever defiled with sin. The four towers, great and strong, so fair to\nsee, were ghostly strength and soberness, righteousness and skill.[44]\nThese four virtues drive out all manner of wickedness, and keep fast,\nwithin, all goodness.\n\nThe courts, one within another, in three stages, are clean maidenhood,\nmotherhood, and true wifehood. There never was a woman except Saint\nMary with all these three, but whosoever would be saved from sin, must\nhave one of these. The seven barbicans we call the seven fair virtues,\nthat suffered no vice to be in our Lady. Great meekness in her heart\nforever vanquished pride; envy could not abide her great charity; her\ndevout abstinence destroyed all gluttony, and her clean maidenhood\nforbade lechery; wicked covetousness might never dwell in her heart,\nbecause wilful poverty guarded that castle; patience was always\nwatching, so that the sin of wrath could never have resting place.\nThere was in her heart so much spiritual comfort that the sin of sloth\ncould never dwell therein. The fair well of the castle, that ever fills\nthe ditches, is grace in God's mother, ever dear to sinful man. Thou\nwho hast need of grace, go to the well-spring; whosoever has her help\nwill never go to hell. Make the ditches of meekness and of good will,\nand the four streams of grace shall soon fill thee: one stream evermore\nshall wash thee clean of sin, another shall make thee steadfast against\ntemptation, the third shall bear thee to bliss that is for aye. This\nwell is evermore the spring of mercy and of pity. The throne of ivory\nis the soul of our sweet Lady; the seven steps leading thereto are the\nseven works of mercy; the rainbow of three colors bending over it is\nthe might of the holy Trinity, covering her. No wonder if this castle\nis fair to see, since God, the sun of righteousness, would alight\ntherein. He came through the closed gate just as the bright sunbeam\ncomes and goes through the glass. All that man has need of is in this\ncastle; he who has its help has happiness enough.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nBESTIARY\n\n\nLION, EAGLE, WHALE, SIREN\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION[45]\n\n\nNature\n\n\nI\n\nThe lion stands upon a hill, and if he hears a man hunting, or through\nhis nostrils scents one approaching, he fills all his own footsteps, as\nhe goes down to the dale, by drawing either dust or dew into them with\nhis tail, so that the hunter cannot find him, and thus he speeds to his\nden and there shelters himself.\n\n\nII\n\nAnother nature he has. When he is born he lies still and stirs not from\nsleep until the sun has shone thrice about him, then his father rouses\nhim by the cry he makes.\n\n\nIII\n\nThe third habit the lion has is this: when he lies down to sleep he\nnever closes the lids of his eyes.\n\n\nSignification\n\n\nI\n\nVery high is that hill which is the kingdom of heaven; our Lord is the\nLion, who lives there above. Though He chose to alight here on earth,\nthe devil, even if he be a crafty hunter, could never know how He came\ndown nor how He dwelt in that humble maiden, Mary by name, who bore Him\nfor the salvation of men.\n\n\nII, III\n\nThough our Lord was dead, and buried, as was His will, and lay still\nin a stone until the third day, His father aided Him, so that He arose\nfrom the dead, to keep us alive. He watches, according to His will,\nas a shepherd, and we are the sheep; He will shield us if we hear His\nword, and go nowhere astray.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EAGLE\n\n\nNature\n\nI will make known to you the nature of the eagle, as I read about it in\na book; how he renews his youth and how he emerges from old age when\nhis limbs are unwieldy and his beak all twisted, and his flight is\nweak and his eyes dim; hear how he recreates himself. He seeks a well\nwhich springs up ever, both by night and by day; over that he flies,\nand up he soars until he passes through the sixth and the seventh skies\nand reaches heaven, and hovers as close as he can to the sun. The sun\nscorches his wings and makes his eyes bright; his feathers fall out\nbecause of the heat, and he falls down then into the water to the\nbottom of the well, where he becomes whole and sound and comes out all\nnew, except that his beak is crooked. Since his beak is twisted, though\nhis limbs are strong, he cannot procure food for himself. Then he goes\nto a stone and strikes his beak on it and continues to strike it until\nhis beak loses all its crookedness, and at once with his straight bill\nhe seizes what food he likes.\n\n\nSignification\n\nMan is like unto the eagle,\u2014if you will listen,\u2014old in his secret sins,\nere he becomes a Christian. Before he had considered his sins his eyes\nwere murky. Thus he may renew himself if he goes to church, and, there\nrenouncing Satan and every sinful deed, betakes himself to Jesus\nChrist, who will be his reward. He believes in our Lord Christ, and\nlearns the teachings of the priest, and the mist departs from his eyes\nwhile he lingers there. His hope is all fixed upon God, and he learns\nof His love which, like the sun, again restores his sight. Naked he\nfalls in the font, and comes out all new, except for one little thing.\nWhat is that? His mouth is still untrue, his mouth is still unfamiliar\nwith pater noster and creed. If he goes north or if he goes south he\nwill soon discover his need; he will beg a favor from God and thus will\nmake his mouth perfect; so may he gain his soul's food, through the\ngrace of our Lord.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHALE\n\n\nNature\n\nThe whale is the largest fish that is in the ocean. You would say, if\nyou should see it afloat, that it is an island, that sits upon the sea\nsand. When this fish, so unwieldy, is hungry he opens his jaws wide,\nand out of his throat comes a sweet odor, the sweetest thing that is\non earth. When other fish perceive it they are glad to draw near; they\ncome and hover in his mouth, unaware of his deceit. Then the whale\nshuts his jaws, sucking in all these fish. It is only the small ones\nhe thus deceives; the big ones he cannot catch. This fish dwells at\nthe bottom of the ocean, and lives there, always hale and well, until\nit comes to be the time when storms stir all the sea. Then summer\nand winter contend, and the whale cannot stay there, because the sea\nbottom is so turbid, so he rises and lies still, while the weather is\nso bad. Sailors in the ships driven about on the sea, dreading to die\nand anxious to live, look around and see this fish, and, believing it\nis an island, are very happy as they draw near; with all their strength\nthey cast anchor, and go upon the island. By flint and steel they start\na fire burning well on this wonder, and warm themselves, and eat and\ndrink. The whale, feeling the fire, sinks them, for he quickly dives\ndown to the bottom of the sea and thus drowns them all.\n\n\nSignification\n\nThis devil is strong in wile and might, as witches are in their craft;\nhe makes men hunger and thirst and have sinful desires; he entices\nmen to him with his breath; whoever follows him finds shame. It is\nthe ones of little faith whom he deceives, not those who are strong\nand steadfast in flesh and spirit, holding to the true faith. He who\nlistens to the devil's teachings will at last repent it sorely; he who\nfastens his hope on him will follow him to dim hell.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIREN\n\n\nNature\n\nIn the sea are many wonders. The mermaid is like a maiden to the waist,\nbut otherwise she is exactly like a fish with fins. This marvel dwells\nin dangerous places where the water is shallow, and she sinks ships and\nworks harm thus. Merrily this maid sings, and she has many voices,\u2014many\nand shrill,\u2014but they are all evil, for sailors forget their steering\nbecause of her singing, and they slumber and sleep and wake too late;\nand the ships sink with the confusion, and come up nevermore. Wise men\nand wary know how to flee, and often escape with uncorrupted heart. By\nthis maiden of whom you have heard, this monster half human and half\nfish, something is betokened.\n\n\nSignification\n\nMany men illustrate the meaning of this example: without, they wear the\nskin of sheep; within, they are wolves wholly; they speak piously, but\nwicked are their deeds; their deeds are all unlike what their mouths\nspeak. Twofold they are in spirit,\u2014they swear by the cross, by the\nsun, and by the moon, and they lie both in their speech and in their\nsinging. They deceive thee then; they destroy thy goods with treachery\nand thy soul with lying.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nLAPIDARY\n\n\nDIAMOND, SAPPHIRE, AMETHYST, GERATITE, CHELIDONIUS, CORAL, HELIOTROPE,\nPEARL, PANTHEROS; SYMBOLISM OF THE CARBUNCLE; SYMBOLISM OF THE TWELVE\nSTONES\n\n\n\n\nEXTRACTS FROM LAPIDARIES[46]\n\n\nEvax, king of Arabia, sent to Nero, the emperor of Rome, a book which\nhe had written concerning the nature of stones, telling their kinds,\ntheir names, their colors, in what lands they are found, and the\nvirtues that they have. Many of their virtues are hidden, but others\nare well known. Doctors who know the powers of gems find them of great\naid in their medicines. No wise man can doubt that God has placed great\nvirtue in stones, as He has in herbs.\n\n\nDiamond\n\nThe diamond is as clear as crystal, but it has also the aspect of\nsteel. It is found in India. Such great hardness it has that neither\nwith iron nor with fire can it be cut, but if it is soaked in the hot\nblood of a goat, a man can work it on the anvil with a hammer. The\nsharp splinters which are broken off are used to cut other gems. This\nstone is no bigger than a hazel-nut. In Arabia there is a kind of\ndiamond, not so hard, which can be cut without goat's blood. It is not\nso beautiful nor so valuable as the other, although it is larger. A\nthird species comes from Cypress, and a fourth from Greece. Each one\nhas the power of attracting iron. Enchanters use this stone in their\nenchantments. It gives to the man who carries it strength and virtue;\nit protects him from bad dreams, from phantoms, from all poisons, and\nfrom all hates and discord; it cures madmen, and defends a man against\nhis enemies. It should be set in gold or in silver, and worn upon the\nleft arm.\n\n\nSapphire\n\nSapphire is fit for the fingers of kings; it is resplendent and like\nthe sky when free from clouds; there is no other stone which has\ngreater virtue or beauty. Men call it Syrtites because it is found in\nthe sand of Libya near the Syrtes. The best is that which is found in\nTurkey, for this is not translucent. It is of such great virtue that\nit is by right called the gem of all gems. It comforts the body and\nkeeps its members whole; it overcomes envy and treachery, and it drives\naway fear. It frees a man from prison and looses heavy fetters; it is\ngood for effecting reconciliation, and is better than any other stone\nfor seeing in the water the signs which reveal things hitherto not\nknown. As medicine it is valuable because it cools an internal fever;\nif a person dissolves it in milk it will cure bad diseases. It is good\nfor the eyes, and for headache, and for disease of the tongue. He who\ncarries it must be chaste.\n\n\nAmethyst\n\nThe amethyst has a purple color, or sometimes is like violet or like\ndrops of wine or like a rose. Some there are which turn almost white,\nothers are like red wine mixed with water. From India it comes; it is\neasy to work, and it prevents intoxication. It would be precious if it\nwere not so abundant, but it is commonplace since there is so much of\nit. There are five kinds.\n\n\nGeratite\n\nGeratite is black. It is of such a nature that if a man opens his mouth\nand puts the stone under his tongue he will divine what another person\nthinks of him, and can win any woman's devotion. This stone can be\ntried as follows: let a man anoint himself with milk and honey, go out\ninto the sunshine where insects swarm, and if he has the stone in his\nmouth the insects will not attack him; if he removes the stone they\nwill at once sting him.\n\n\nChelidonius\n\nChelidonius is a stone which one finds in the stomach of a swallow. It\nis not very beautiful, but it surpasses all the beautiful stones in\nusefulness. It is of ten sorts and of two colors\u2014black and red. The\nred is good for the frenzy which seizes people who are moon-struck; it\nrestores their sanity to madmen and cures those who are pining away. He\nwho carries this stone will be a good orator and will be much beloved.\nOne must carry it wrapped in linen cloth and suspended under the left\narm. The black, if worn in the same way, aids a man to accomplish\nimportant things he has undertaken; it is also a help against the\nthreats and rages of kings and princes. The water in which it is washed\nis helpful to diseased eyes. If wrapped in linen cloth of saffron tint,\nit drives away fever and restrains the humors which injure the body.\n\n\nCoral\n\nCoral is a stone which grows in the sea like a tree. It is green\nthere where it grows, but when it is exposed to the air it hardens\nand becomes red. It is like a bush hardly half a foot high. It is\nvery good to carry about, as say the authors Zoroaster and Metrodorus,\nfor it protects one from lightning and tempest, and if one scatters\nit on vines or among olive trees, or upon a seeded field, it will be\na protection from hail and other storms. It makes fruits multiply,\nit drives away phantoms, it gives a good beginning and a prosperous\nconclusion.\n\n\nHeliotrope\n\nHeliotrope is of such a nature that if one puts it in a basin of water\nopposite the sun, it makes the sun become red and creates an eclipse.\nIn a little while it makes the water boil up over the basin's edge, and\nfall like a shower of rain. He who wears this can prophesy many things.\nIt gives a man praise and good health, it stanches the flow of blood,\nit overcomes poison and treachery. Any one who takes the herb called\nheliotrope and binds the two together with the proper incantation can\nwalk where he pleases and no one will see him. This stone comes from\nEthiopia, from Cypress, and from Africa. It is very much like the\nemerald, but has red spots.\n\n\nPearl\n\nThe pearl is found in a shell, and it is called _unio_ (union), because\nit is always found alone. The wise say that the oyster shells are open\nat certain times, and they receive the dew of heaven; the morning dews\nbecome white and clear pearls, while the evening dews are obscure. The\nyoung shells produce clearer pearls than the old ones do. The more\ndew the shells receive, the larger is the pearl, but no one is ever\nmore than half an ounce in weight. If there is thunder when the dew\nis received, then the pearls perish. They grow in India and in Great\nBritain.\n\n\nPantheros\n\nPantheros is of various colors,\u2014black, red, green, gray, purple, and\nrose color. All these shades appear in combination. Whoever sees it in\nthe morning will not be defeated in battle, that day, nor in any other\nundertaking. In India there is a beast, of divers colors, called the\npanther, of whom other beasts are afraid, and this stone is named after\nhim.\n\n\nSymbolism of the Carbuncle[47]\n\nThe carbuncle is red, and surpasses the wonders of all other stones.\nThe books tell us that the gentle carbuncle, fine and clear, is the\nlord of all stones, the gem of all gems, and has the virtue of precious\nstones, above all. It is of such superiority, that when he who wears\nit comes among people, all accord him honor and grace, and rejoice in\nhis coming. The books tell us that the beasts who drink of the stream\nwhere carbuncles have been washed, are cured of their malady; and the\nwretched who in good faith look at this stone are comforted and forget\ntheir adversity. By the virtue which God has sent, it soothes the eyes,\ncomforts the heart and the body, and gives man lordship more than do\nthose stones which are larger. Carbuncles are found in Libya in the\nriver of paradise. The book of Moses says that God commanded that the\ncarbuncle should be first in the second row of twelve stones. By night\nand by day it illumines all, and restores and lightens the heart.\nSunlight does not take away any of its great and joy-giving color.\nMoses tells us that it signifies Jesus Christ, who came into the world\nto lighten our darkness, and Saint John, speaking of the coming of\nJesus Christ, said He is the true Light who gives light to all men and\nto all the world. Isaiah the prophet said of Him that the people who\nwalked in darkness have seen a great Light. Saint John did not find the\ncarbuncle among the foundations of the celestial kingdom of Jerusalem,\nfor all who desire to behold the carbuncle and the clearness of the\ntrue sun must turn to the true light of Jesus Christ.\n\n\nSymbolism of the Twelve Stones[48]\n\nTwelve stones there are in this world which have great significance.\nI shall not fail briefly to say what each one signifies. Red jasper\nsignifies love; the green, faith; the white, sweetness. Sapphire means\nthat he who has faith shall reign together with God. Chalcedony, which\nis the color of fire, shows who will be neighbors with God. Emerald\nsignifies the faith which the Christians have in Him; sardonyx,\nchastity and humility among the saints; sardius, the sorrows which they\nhad on earth for their love of God; chrysolite, the life celestial that\nthey have after the life terrestrial; beryl, purification, which the\nsaints pronounce to the people. Topaz signifies to us the crown of holy\nlife; chrysoprase, the reward which holy men will hold very dear; and\njacinth is a sign of the light which the saints have from the Creator.\nAmethyst shows the martyrdom which God suffered.\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nHOMILY\n\n\nCONCERNING MIRACLE PLAYS, GAMES, AND MINSTRELSY\n\n\n\n\nCONCERNING MIRACLE PLAYS, GAMES, AND MINSTRELSY[49]\n\n\nIt is forbidden a clerk in orders to perform or to see miracle plays,\nfor they are sinful gatherings and sights. He may, in church, play\nthe resurrection, showing how God rose, and thus make men believe\nfaithfully that Christ rose in flesh and blood, and he may play without\nharm the part showing how God was born in Yule night, and thus teach\nmen to believe steadfastly that Christ was born of the Virgin Mary. If\nhe plays parts in the streets or in groves, it seems truly a sinful\nsight. Saint Isidore bears witness to this, for he says, \"These men\nforsake what they accepted,\u2014God and Christianity, when they take part\nin such things as miracle plays or in games or tournaments of great\nprice.\" These are pomps that thou didst forsake when thou didst accept\nChristianity. At the font the ignorant man says, \"I forsake thee, here,\nSatan, and all thy pomps and thy works.\" This is the instruction thou\nhast had as a clerk. Hast thou kept thy promise when thou dost take\npart in such performances? Thou hast broken thy covenant with God, and\ndost serve thy sire, Termagant. Saint Isidore says in his writings,\n\"All those who delight in seeing such things, or who lend horse or\nharness for them, are perilously guilty.\" If a priest or a clerk lends\na vestment which has been hallowed by the sacrament, he, more than\nothers, is to be blamed, for he shall have the infamy which attends\nsacrilege, and shall be chastised as is right.\n\nDances, carols, and summer games bring shame in many ways; when thou\ndost plan to take part in these thou art slothful in God's service, and\nshalt be punished for thy sin.\n\nWhat say you of minstrels, all of whom delight in such things? Their\ndeeds are full of peril, and dear neither to God nor to God's house.\nThey would rather hear of a dance or of deeds of boasting and of pride\nthan any good of God in heaven, or other wisdom that may be named. In\nfolly is spent all that they get,\u2014on their dress, their drink, and\ntheir meat. And because of such things, I shall tell you what once\nbefell a minstrel. Saint Gregory tells this story:\n\nA minstrel, a goliardys,[50] came once to a bishop's house, and asked\nfor charity. The porter let him enter. At meal time the board was laid;\nand when the benison should have been said, this minstrel made melody\nwith music loud and high. By report, the bishop was a holy man. He sat\ndown at the table, and should have blessed the food, with a word, but\nhe was so disturbed by the noise of the minstrelsy that he did not say\ngrace, as he usually did, very devoutly.\n\nThe bishop complained sorely, and said to all those who were there that\nhe would not put the benison above the grace of charity. He saw well,\nin spirit, that vengeance was approaching speedily, and said, \"Give him\nhis alms, and let him go. Death approaches, which will slay him.\" The\nminstrel received charity, and then departed, and as he passed out of\nthe gate, a stone fell down from the wall, and slew him there. That\nbetokened that God was not pleased with what the minstrel did, when he\ndisturbed the devotion of the good man.\n\nThis is told for the sake of gleemen, so that they will take some heed\nas to where it is proper to make music, and also for the sake of those\nwho listen, so that they will not love minstrelsy too dearly, nor have\nfor it such affection that they will worship heaven's King the less.\n\nI shall tell you what I have heard of this bishop, Saint Robert, whose\nsurname is Grossteste of Lincoln. He loved to hear the harp, for it\nmakes the wit of man keen. Next his chamber, beside his study, was his\nharper's chamber. Many times, by night and by day, he found solace\nin notes and lays. Some one asked him why he had such delight in\nminstrelsy, and he told why he held the harper dear: \"The virtue of the\nharp will destroy the fiend's might, and rightly the harp is likened to\nthe cross. Another thing comforts me,\u2014if God has given to a piece of\nwood the power to make men hear so much joy, even more joy, there must\nbe where God Himself dwells. The harp often reminds me of the joy and\nbliss where God is. Therefore, good men, you should learn when you hear\na gleeman, to worship God with all your might, according as David says\nin the Psalter, 'in harp, in tabor, and in symphony, worship God; in\ntrumpets and psaltery, in stringed instruments and organs, and in bells\nringing, in all these worship heaven's King.' If you do thus, I say\nboldly, you may hear your minstrelsy.\"\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nSATIRE\n\n\nTHE SONG OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS\n\nTHE LAND OF COCKAYGNE\n\nTHE COMPLAINT OF THE HUSBANDMAN\n\nSIR PENNY\n\n\n\n\nTHE SONG OF THE UNIVERSITY OF PARIS[51]\n\n\n    Much argument is heard of late,\n    The subject I'll attempt to state,\n    A question for dispute, I fear,\n    That will hang on for many a year.\n    The student-folk of Paris town\n    (I speak of those in cap and gown,\n    Students of art, philosophy,\u2014\n    In short, \"the University,\"\n    And not our old-time learned men)\n    Have stirred up trouble here again.\n    Nothing they'll gain, it seems to me,\n    Except more bitter enmity,\n    Till there is no peace, day or night.\n    Does such a state of things seem right?\n\n    To give his son a chance to stay\n    In Paris, growing wise each day,\n    Is some old peasant's one ambition.\n    To pay his bills and his tuition\n    The poor hard-working father slaves;\n    Sends him each farthing that he saves,\n    While he in misery will stay\n    On his scant plot of land to pray\n    That his hard toil may help to raise\n    His son to honor and to praise.\n\n    But once the son is safe in town\n    The story then reads upside down.\n    Forgetting all his pledges now,\n    The earnings of his father's plow\n    He spends for weapons, not for books.\n    Dawdling through city streets, he looks\n    To find some pretty, loitering wench,\n    Or idle brawl by tavern bench;\n    Wanders at will and pries about,\n    Till money fails and gown wears out.\u2014\n    Then he starts fresh on the old round;\n    Why sow good seed on barren ground?\n    Even in Lent when men should do\n    Something pleasing in God's view,\n    Your students then elect to wear\n    For penitence, no shirts of hair,\n    But swaggering hauberks, as they sit\n    Drowning in drink their feeble wit;\n    While three or four of them excite\n    Four hundred students to a fight,\n    And close the University.\n    (Not such a great calamity!)\n\n    Yet, heavens, for one of serious mind\n    What life more pleasing can you find\n    Than earnest scholar's life may be?\n    More pains than precious gems has he,\n    And while he's struggling to grow wise,\n    Amusements he must sacrifice,\u2014\n    Give up his feasting and his drinking,\n    And spend his time in sober thinking.\n    His life is just about as merry\n    As is a monk's in a monastery.\n    Why send a boy away to school\n    There to become an arrant fool?\n    When he should be acquiring sense,\n    He wastes his time and all his pence,\n    And to his friends brings only shame,\n    While they suppose him winning fame.\n\n              Translated by Marion E. Markley\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAND OF COCKAYGNE[52]\n\n\nFar in the sea west of Spain is a land called Cockaygne. There is no\nland except the kingdom of heaven its equal in happiness and goodness;\nthough paradise is joyful and bright, Cockaygne is still fairer. What\nis there in paradise but grass and flowers and green branches? Though\njoy and great pleasure are in paradise, yet there is no food but fruit;\nthere is no hall, no bower, no bench, and nothing but water to quench\none's thirst. Only two men live there, Enoch and Elias; a wretched life\nmust they lead where no other men dwell.\n\nIn Cockaygne is meat and drink, without care or trouble or toil. The\nmeat is dainty; the drink is pure wine at noon and at supper. This land\nhas no peer on earth; verily there is no place under heaven so full of\njoy and bliss.\n\nIn that land is many a sweet sight; it is always day and never night;\nthere is no strife nor quarrel; there is no death, but only lasting\nlife; there is no lack of food nor dress; there is no angry man nor\nwoman; there is no serpent, wolf, nor fox, horse nor colt, ox nor cow;\nthere is no sheep nor swine nor goat nor steed nor stables. There\nare no flies nor fleas nor other insects in town or bed or house, no\nserpents nor snails, nor is there thunder, sleet, nor hail, storm,\nrain, nor wind; there is no blind man nor woman, but everywhere is jest\nand joy and glee. Well fares it with him who there may dwell.\n\nRivers flow there, wide and fair, of oil, of milk, of honey, and of\nwine. Water serves there only two uses,\u2014to look at, and to use for\nwashing. There are many kinds of fruit, and everywhere is solace and\ndelight.\n\nThere is a fair abbey of white monks and of gray; there are bowers and\nhalls; the walls are all of pasties, of flesh, of fish, and of rich\nmeats,\u2014the very best a man may eat. Flour cakes are the shingles of\nchurch, cloister, bower, and hall. The pinnacles are fat puddings, rich\nfood for princes and kings; men may eat as much as they please, without\nany danger. All things are in common to both old and young, to strong\nand weak, to meek and bold.\n\nThere is a cloister fair and light, broad and long and beautiful. All\nthe pillars of that cloister are of crystal, with bases and capitals\nof green jasper and red coral. In the meadow is a tree, most pleasing\nto the sight. The root is ginger and galingale; the shoots are all\nof zedoary; the finest maces are the flowers; the rind is sweet\nsmelling cinnamon; and the fruit is clove of goodly taste. Cubebs are\nnot lacking, either. There are roses red of hue, and lilies, also,\nfair to see. They never fade by day nor by night, this should be a\npleasant sight. There are four wells in the abbey, made of triacle\nand aromatic plants, of balm and also of spiced wine, ever fed by\nunderground streams. Precious stones and gold are there, sapphire,\npearl, carbuncle, astrion, emerald, liguros and chrysoprase, beryl,\nonyx and topaz, amethyst and chrysolite, chalcedony and epetite. There\nare many birds,\u2014the throstle, thrush, and nightingale, the lark and the\nwoodpecker, and other birds without number, that never cease singing\nmerrily day nor night.\n\nMore, however, there is to tell you; geese roasted on the spit fly to\nthat abbey and cry: \"Geese, all hot, all hot.\" They bring plenty of\ngarlick, the best you could ever look for. The larks, that are familiar\nfood, light in a man's mouth, all stewed daintily and powdered with\nclove and cinnamon. There is never any question of drink, but every one\ntakes enough, yet does not toil.\n\nWhen the monks go to mass, all the glass windows turn to bright\ncrystal, to give the monks more light. When the masses are all said,\nthe crystal turns again to glass, in the state that it was before....\n[The rest of the poem satirizes the morals of the monks.]\n\n      Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COMPLAINT OF THE HUSBANDMAN[53]\n\n\n    I heard men upon earth make many a moan,\n      Of how they were harried in their task of tilling:\n    Good years and grain are both of them gone,\n      We enjoy here no tales, and have no song to sing.\n    Now we must work, no way else is known,\n      I may no longer live by my gleaning.\n    Yet even a bitterer demand has upgrown,\n      For ever the fourth penny goes to the king.\n\n    Thus we complain of the king and have cares that are cold;\n      Though we dream of recovery we are ever downcast.\n    He who has any goods which he hoped he could hold\n      Learns that what we love most we must lose at the last.\n\n    Loath are we to lose what little there is,\n      And we have our henchmen who will for pay sue.\n    The hayward[54] bodes harm if we have aught of his,\n      The bailiff[55] with blows shows how well he can do,\n    The woodward[56] awaits in the watched wilderness:\n      Neither riches nor rest will arise for us few.\n    Thus they pillage the poor, who have little of bliss,\n      And must sweat at their toil and waste away too.\n\n    He must needs waste away, whatever he swore,\n      Who hath not a hood his own head to hide.\n    Thus will walks in the land, and law is no more,\n      And picked from the poor is the persecutor's pride.\n\n    Thus they pillage the poor and pick them all clean,\n      And the rich men are ruling without any right;\n    Their lands and their people all lie very lean,\n      Through demands of the bailiffs such sorrows alight.\n    Men of religion[57] are abject and mean\n      As are baron and bondman,[58] the clerk and the knight.\n    Thus will walks in the land and sorrow is seen,\n      Falsehood grows fat and mars all with his might.\n\n    He stands still in a spot and shows a stern soul,\n      Who makes beggars wander with long staves and bags;\n    Thus we are hunted from hall and from hole,\n      And those who wore robes are now wearing rags.\n\n    And then come the beadles[59] with many a boast:\n      \"Supply me with silver for the green wax,[60]\n    Thou art set down in my writ as thou thyself know'st,\"\n      Yet more than ten times have I paid my tax.\n    Then I must furnish hens for the roast,\n      And fairly, each fish day, have lamprey and lax.[61]\n    If I go to the market, I lose, at the most,\n      Though I sell my bill[62] and my big axe.\n\n    I may place my pledge well if I will,\n      Or sell my corn when it's green as the grass;\n    Yet I am a foul churl, though they have their fill;\n      What I've saved all the year I must spend at this pass.\n\n    Needs must I spend what I've saved from of yore,\n      Against the coming of catchpoles I must take care;\n\n    The master beadle comes in like a brutish boar\n      And says he will make my dwelling all bare,\n    So then I must bribe him, with one mark or more,\n      Although I at the set day should sell my own mare;\n    Thus the green wax grieves us neath our garments poor,\n      So that men hunt us as hound does the hare.\n\n    They hunt us as hound does a hare on a hill;\n      Since I took to the land such woe I've been taught.\n    The beadles have never had quite all their fill,\n      For they slip away, and it's we who are caught.\n\n    Thus I catch and I carry cares that are cold,\n      Since I have had cottage and reckoning to keep.\n    To seek silver for the king, my seed I have sold,\n      And my land has lain fallow and learned how to sleep.\n    Since they took my fair cattle away from the fold,\n      When I think of old joys I am ready to weep;\n    Thus are bred so many of these beggars bold,\n      And our rye is rotten and rank ere we reap.\n\n    Rank is our rye and rotten in the straw,\n      Because of foul weather by brook and by shore;\n    Thus wakes in this world the worst woe men e'er saw,\n      As well waste all away, as work thus evermore.\n\n              Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nSIR PENNY[63]\n\n\n    On earth there is a little thing\n    That reigns as does the richest king,\n        In this and every land;\n    Sir Penny is his name, we're told,\n    He compels both young and old\n        To bow unto his hand.\n\n    Popes and kings and emperors,\n    Bishops, abbots, too, and priors,\n        Parson, priest, and knight,\n    Barons, earls, and dukes, also,\n    Gladly in his service go,\n        Both by day and night.\n\n    Sir Penny changes a man's mood\n    And makes him, often, don his hood\n        And rise and stand again.\n    Men honor him with reverence\n    And give utmost obedience\n        Unto that little swain.\n\n    In the king's court it is no gain\n    Against Sir Penny to complain,\n        So great is he in might;\n    He is so witty and so strong\n    That be a matter ever so wrong\n        He will make it right.\n\n    With Penny women may be won\n    By those men they once did shun,\n        As often may be seen;\n    Long with him they will not chide,\n    For he can help them trail aside,\n        In good scarlet and green.\n\n    He may buy both heaven and hell\n    And everything there is to sell,\n        Such grace he has on earth.\n    He may loose and he may bind;\n    The poor are ever put behind,\n        When he comes to a place.\n\n    When he begins to take control,\n    He makes meek the cruel soul\n        And weak who bold has been;\n    All men's needs are quickly sped,\n    Without pledge or bail to dread,\n        Where he is go-between.\n\n    The justices he makes so blind\n    They are unable right to find\n        Or even truth to see;\n    To give judgment they are loath,\n    If it should make Sir Penny wroth,\n        For dear to them is he.\n\n    Where strife was, Penny soon makes peace;\n    From anger he will bring release,\n        As long as men will spend;\n    Of foes he makes friends most true,\n    His counsel they will never rue\n        Who have him for friend.\n\n    That lord is set above us all\n    And richly served within the hall\n        At the festal board;\n    The more he gives men plenteously,\n    The more beloved always is he,\n        And, by a host, adored.\n\n    He makes many be forsworn\n    Who in body and soul are made forlorn\n        By following after him.\n    Other god they will not have,\n    Except that little and round knave,\n        To end their sorrows grim.\n\n    On him alone they set their hearts,\n    And no man from his love departs,\n        Neither for good nor ill.\n    All that he will on earth have done\n    Is granted soon by everyone\n        According to his will.\n\n    Penny is a good fellow;\n    Men greet him in deed and word, also,\n        Whenever he comes near;\n    He is not welcomed as a guest,\n    But always served with what is best,\n        A soft seat and good cheer.\n\n    Whoever falls in any need,\n    With Penny's help will win good speed,\n        Whatever may betide;\n    He that is Penny's friend, withal,\n    Shall have his will in steed and stall\n        When others are set aside.\n\n    Sir Penny gives men richest weeds,\n    And many men may ride his steeds\n        In this world so wide.\n    In every game and every play\n    The mastery is given aye\n        To Penny for his pride.\n\n    Sir Penny always wins the prize\n    Wherever towers and castles rise\n        By town or country way;\n    Without either spear or shield\n    He is the best in wood or field,\n        Most stalwart in the fray.\n\n    In every place this truth is seen,\n    Sir Penny rules both great and mean;\n        Most masterful is he;\n    And all is as he does command;\n    Against his will no man dare stand,\n        Neither on land or sea.\n\n    Sir Penny's counsel gives great aid\n    To those who have his law obeyed,\n        As the assizes show.\n    He lengthens life and saves from death,\n    But love him not o'er well, God saith,\n        For covetousness is woe.\n\n    If thou shouldst chance treasure to win,\n    Delight thee not too much therein,\n        Nor proud nor haughty be;\n    But spend all as a Christian can,\n    So that thou mayst love God and man\n        In perfect charity.\n\n    God grant us grace, with heart and will,\n    The goods that he is giving, still\n        Well and wisely to spend;\n    And our lives here so to lead,\n    That we may have His bliss for meed,\n        Ever without an end.\n\n              Translated by M. H. S.\n\n\n\n\nLAY\n\n\nSIR ORFEO\n\n\n\n\nSIR ORFEO[64]\n\n\n    Orfeo was a king,\n    In Inglond an heighe lording,\n    A stalworth man and hardi bo,[65]\n    Large and curteys, he was al so;\n    His fader was comen of king Pluto,\n    And his moder of king Juno,\n    That sum time were as godes y hold,\n    For aventours that thai dede and told.\n    This king sojurned in Traciens,\n    That was a cite of noble defens,\n    For Winchester was cleped[66] tho\n    Traciens, with outen no.\n    The king hadde a quen of priis,\n    That was y cleped dame Heurodis.\n    The fairest levedi[67] for the nones[68]\n    That might gon on bodi and bones,\n    Ful of love and godenisse\n    Ac no man may telle hir fairnise.\n        Bifel so in the comessing of May,\n    When miri and hot is the day,\n    And oway beth winter schours,\n    And everi feld is ful of flours,\n    And blosme breme[69] on everi bough,\n    Over al wexeth miri anough,\n    This ich[70] quen dame Heurodis,\n    Tok to maidens of priis,\n    And went in an undren tide[71]\n    To play bi an orchard side\n    To se the floures sprede and spring,\n    And to here the foules sing:\n    Thai sett hem doun al thre,\n    Under a fair ympe[72] tre,\n    And wel sone this fair quene,\n    Fel on slepe opon the grene.\n    The maidens durst hir nought awake,\n    Bot let hir ligge and rest take,\n    So sche slepe til after none,\n    That under tide was al y done;\n    Ac as sone as sche gan awake,\n    Sche crid and lothli bere gan make;\n    Sche froted[73] hir honden and hir fet,\n    And crached her visage, it blede wete,\n    Hir riche robe hye al to rett,[74]\n    And was reneyd[75] out of hir witt.\n    The two maidens hir biside\n    No durst with hir no leng abide,\n    But ourn[76] to the palays ful right,\n    And told bothe squier and knight,\n    That her quen awede[77] wold,\n    And bad hem go and hir at hold.\n    Knightes urn[76], and levedis al so,\n    Damisels sexti and mo,\n    In the orchard to the quen hye come,\n    And her up in her armes nome,[78]\n    And brought hir to bed attelast,\n    And held hir there fine fast;\n    Ac ever sche held in o cri\n    And wold up and owy.\n    When Orfeo herd that tiding\n    Never him nas wers for no thing;\n    He come with knightes tene\n    To chaumber right bifor the quene,\n    And biheld and seyd with grete pite:\n    O lef[79] liif, what is te,[80]\n    That ever yete hast ben so stille,\n    And now gredest[81] wonder schille[82];\n    Thi bodi, that was so white y core,[83]\n    With thine nailes is al to tore,\n    Allas! thi rode,[84] that was so red,\n    Is al wan as thou were ded;\n    And also thine fingres smale,\n    Beth al blodi and al pale;\n    Allas! thi lovesum eyghen[85] to\n    Loketh so man doth on his fo;\n    A dame, Ich biseche merci,\n    Let ben al this reweful cri,\n    And tel me what the is, and hou,\n    And what thing may the help now?\n    Tho lay sche stille attelast,\n    And gan to wepe swithe[86] fast,\n    And seyd thus the king to:\n    Allas! mi lord, sir Orfeo,\n    Seththen[87] we first to gider were,\n    Ones wroth never we nere,\n    Bot ever Ich have y loved the\n    As mi liif, and so thou me,\n    Ac now we mot[88] delen ato,\n    Do thi best, for y mot go.\n    Allas! quath he, forlorn Ich am,\n    Whider wiltow go and to wham?\n    Whider thou gost Ichil with the,\n    And whider Y go thou schalt with me.\n    Nay, nay, sir, that nought nis,\n    Ichil the telle al how it is:\n    As Ich lay this under tide,\n    And slepe under our orchard side,\n    Ther come to me to fair knightes\n    Wele y armed al to rightes,\n    And bad me comen an heighing,[89]\n    And speke with her lord the king;\n    And Ich answerd at wordes bold,\n    Y durst nought, no y nold.\n    Thai priked oghain[90] as thai might drive,\n    Tho com her king also blive,\n    With an hundred knightes and mo,\n    And damissels an hundred al so;\n    Al on snowe white stedes,\n    As white as milke were her wedes,\n    Y no seighe never yete bifore\n    So fair creatours y core!\n    The king hadde a croun on hed,\n    It nas of silver, no of gold red,\n    Ac it was of a precious ston;\n    As bright as the sonne it schon:\n    And as son as he to me cam,\n    Wold Ich, nold Ich, he me nam,\n    And made me with him ride,\n    Opon a palfray bi his side,\n    And brought me to his pallays,\n    Wele atird in ich ways;\n    And schewed me castels and tours,\n    Rivers, forestes, frith[91] with flours;\n    And his riche stedes[92] ichon,\n    And seththen me brought oghain hom,\n    In to our owhen orchard,\n    And said to me after ward:\n    Loke dame, to morwe thatow be\n    Right here under this ympe tre;\n    And than thou schalt with ous go\n    And live with ous ever mo,\n    And yif thou makest ous y let,\n    Where thou be, thou worst y fet[93]\n    And to tore thine limes al,\n    That nothing help the no schal,\n    And thei thou best so to torn\n    Yete thou worst with ous y born.\n        When king Orfeo herd this cas,\n    O we![94] quath he, allas! allas!\n    Lever me were to lete[95] mi liif,\n    Than thus to lese the quen mi wiif,\n    He asked conseyl at ich man,\n    Ac no man him help no can.\n    A morwe the under tide is come\n    And Orfeo hath his armes y nome,\n    And wele ten hundred knightes with him,\n    Ich y armed stout and grim;\n    And with the quen wenten he,\n    Right unto that ympe tre.\n    Thai made scheltrom[96] in ich aside,\n    And sayd thai wold ther abide,\n    And dye ther everichon,\n    Er the quen schuld fram hem gon:\n    Ac yete amiddes hem ful right,\n    The quen was oway y twight,[97]\n    With fairi forth y nome,\n    Men wist never wher sche was bicome.\n    Tho was ther criing, wepe and wo,\n    The king into his chamber is go,\n    And oft swoned opon the ston\n    And made swiche diol[98] and swiche mon,\n    That neighe his liif was y spent;\n    Ther was non amendement.\n    He cleped to gider his barouns,\n    Erls, lordes of renouns,\n    And when thai al y comen were:\n    Lordinges, he said, bifor you here\n    Ich ordainy min heigh steward\n    To wite[99] mi kingdom after ward,\n    In mi stede ben he schal,\n    To kepe mi londes over al,\n    For now Ichave mi quen y lore,[100]\n    The fairest levedi that ever was bore;\n    Never eft y nil no woman se,\n    Into wildernes Ichil te,[101]\n    And live ther ever more,\n    With wilde bestes in holtes[102] hore;\n    And when ye under stond that y be spent,\n    Make you than a parlement,\n    And chese you a newe king:\n    Now doth your best with al mi thing.\n      Tho was ther wepeing in the halle,\n    And grete cri among hem alle;\n    Unnethe[103] might old or yong\n    For wepeing speke a word with tong.\n    Thai kneled adoun al y fere,[104]\n    And praid him yif his wille were,\n    That he no schuld nought from hem go.\n    Do way! quath he, it schal be so:\n    All his kingdom he forsoke,\n    But a sclavin[105] on him he toke;\n    He no hadde kirtel, no hode,\n    Schert, no nother gode,\n    Bot his harp he toke algate,[106]\n    And dede him barfot out atte gate:\n    No man most with him go.\n    O way! what ther was wepe and wo,\n    When he that hadde ben king with croun,\n    Went so poverlich out of toun.\n    Thurch wode, and over heth,\n    Into the wildernes he geth,\n    Nothing he fint that him is ays,[107]\n    Bot ever he liveth in gret malais[108];\n    He that hadde y werd the fowe[109] and griis,[110]\n    And on bed the purper biis,[111]\n    Now on hard hethe he lith,\n    With leves and gresse he him writh[112]:\n    He that hadde castels, and tours,\n    River, forest, frith with flours;\n    Now, thei it commenci to snewe and frese,\n    This king mot make his bed in mese[113]:\n    He that had y had knightes of priis.\n    Bifor him kneland, and levedis,\n    Now seth he no thing that him liketh,\n    Bot wild wormes by him striketh:\n    He that had y had plente\n    Of mete and drink, of ich deynte,\n    Now may he al day digge and wrote,[114]\n    Er he finde his fille of rote;\n    In somer he liveth bi wild frut,\n    And berren, bot gode lite;\n    In winter may he no thing finde,\n    Bot rote, grases, and the rinde;\n    Al his bodi was oway dwine\n    For missays, and al to chine,[115]\n    Lord! who may telle the sore\n    This king sufferd ten yere and more:\n    His here of his berd, blac and rowe,[116]\n    To his girdel stede was growe;\n    His harp, where on was al his gle,\n    He hidde in an holwe tre;\n    And, when the weder was clere and bright,\n    He toke his harp to him wel right,\n    And harped at his owhen wille,\n    Into alle the wode the soun gan schille,\n    That alle the wilde bestes that ther beth,\n    For joie abouten him thai teth[117];\n    And all the foules that ther were,\n    Come and sete on ich a brere;\n    To here his harping a fine,[118]\n    So miche melody was ther in.\n    And when he his harping lete wold,\n    No best bi him abide nold.\n        He might se besides\n    Oft in hot under tides,\n    The king o fairy, with his rout,\n    Com to hunt him al about:\n    With dim cri and bloweing,\n    And houndes also with him berking;\n    Ac no best thai no nome,\n    No never he nist whider thai bi come.\n    And other while he might him se\n    As a gret ost bi him te,\n    Wele atourned[119] ten hundred knightes,\n    Ich y armed to his rightes;\n    Of cuntenaunce stout and fers,\n    With mani displaid baners;\n    And ich his swerd y drawe hold:\n    Ac never he nist whider thai wold.\n    And other while he seighe other thing:\n    Knightes and levedis com daunceing,\n    In queynt atire gisely,\n    Queyitt pas, and softly:\n    Tabours and trimpes yede him bi,\n    And al maner menstraci.\n        And on a day he seighe him biside\n    Sexti levdis on hors ride,\n    Gentil and jolif, as brid on ris[120];\n    Nought o man amonges hem ther nis;\n    And ich a faucoun on hond bere,\n    And riden on haukin bi o rivere,\n    Of game thai founde wel gode haunt,\n    Maulardes, hayroun, and cormeraunt;\n    The foules of the water ariseth,\n    The faucouns hem wele deviseth,\n    Ich faucoun his pray slough:\n    That seighe Orfeo, and lough.\n    Par fay, quath he, ther is fair game!\n    Thider Ichil bi Godes name,\n    Ich was y won[121] swiche werk to se.\n    He aros, and thider gan te;\n    To a levedi he was y come,\n    Biheld, and hath wele under nome,\n    And seth, bi al thing, that it is\n    His owhen quen dam Heurodis.\n    Yern he biheld hir, and sche him eke,\n    Ac noither to other a word no speke:\n    For messais that sche on him seighe,\n    That had ben so riche and so heighe,\n    The teres fel out of her eighe;\n    The other levedis this y seighe,\n    And maked hir oway to ride,\n    Sche most with him no lenger abide.\n    Allas! quath he, now me is wo!\n    Whi nil deth now me slo,\n    Allas! wroche, that Y no might\n    Dye now, after this sight!\n    Allas! to long last mi liif\n    When Y no dar nought with mi wiif,\n    No hye to me, o word speke,\n    Allas! whi nil min hert breke!\n    Parfay, quath he, tide what bitide,\n    Whider so this levedis ride,\n    The selve way Ichil streche,\n    Of liif, no deth, me no reche.\n    His sclavin he dede on, all so spac,[122]\n    And henge his harp upon his bac,\n    And had wel gode will to gon;\n    He no spard noither stub no ston.\n    In at a roche the levedis rideth,\n    And he after, and nought abideth;\n    When he was in the roche y go,\n    Wele thre mile, other mo,\n    He com in to a fair cuntray,\n    As bright so sonne on somers day,\n    Smothe, and plain, and al grene;\n    Hille, no dale nas ther non y sene;\n    Amidde the lond a castel he sighe,\n    Riche, and real,[123] and wonder heighe;\n    Al the ut mast wal,\n    Was cler and schine as cristal;\n    And hundred tours ther were about,\n    Degiselich[124] and bataild stout;\n    The butras com out of the diche,\n    Of rede gold y arched riche,\n    The bonsour[125] was avowed[126] al,\n    Of ich maner divers animal;\n    With in ther wer wide wones,[127]\n    Al of precious stones,\n    The werst piler on to biholde,\n    Was al of burnist gold;\n    Al that lond was ever light,\n    For when it schuld be therk[128] and night,\n    The riche stones[129] light gonne,\n    As bright as doth at none the sonne,\n    No man may telle, no thenche in thought,\n    The riche werk that ther was wrought,\n    Bi al thing, him think that it is\n    The proude court of paradis.\n    In this castel the levedis alight,\n    He wold in after, yif he might.\n        Orfeo knokketh atte gate,\n    The porter was redi ther ate,\n    And asked, what he wold have y do.\n    Parfay, quath he, Icham a minstrel lo,\n    To solas thi lord with my gle,\n    Yif his swete wille be.\n    The porter undede the gate anon,\n    And lete him in to the castel gon.\n        Than he gan bihold about al,\n    And seighe full liggeand[130] with in the wal,\n    Of folk that were thider y brought,\n    And thought dede and nare nought:\n    Sum stode with outen hade[131];\n    And sum on armes nade;[132]\n    And sum thurch the bodi hadde wounde;\n    And sum lay wode[133] y bounde;\n    And sum armed on hors sete;\n    And sum astrangled as thai ete;\n    And sum were in water adreynt[134];\n    And sum with fire al for schreynt[135];\n    Wives ther lay on child bedde;\n    Sum ded, and sum awedde[136];\n    And wonder fele ther lay bisides,\n    Right as thai slepe her under tides;\n    Eche was thus in this warld y nome,\n    With fairi thider y come.\n    Ther he seighe his owhen wiif,\n    Dame Heurodis his liif liif\n    Slepe under an ympe tre;\n    Bi her clothes he knewe that it was he.\n        And when he hadde bihold this mervails alle,\n    He went in to the kinges halle;\n    Then seighe he ther a semly sight,\n    A tabernacle blisseful and bright\n    Ther in her maister king sete,\n    And her quen fair and swete;\n    Her crounes, her clothes, schine so bright,\n    That unnethe bihold he hem might.\n    When he hadde biholden al that thing,\n    He kneled adoun bifor the king;\n    O Lord, he seyd, yif it thi wille were,\n    Mi menstraci thou schust y here.\n    The king answerd, what man artow,\n    That art hider y comen now?\n    Ich, no non that is with me,\n    No sent never after the.\n    Seththen that ich here regni gan,\n    Y no fond never so fole hardi man\n    That hider to ous durst wende,\n    Bot that Ichim walde of sende.\n    Lord, quath he, trowe ful wel,\n    Y nam bot a pover menstrel,\n    And, sir, it is the maner of us,\n    To seche mani a lordes hous,\n    Thei we nought welcom no be,\n    Yete we mot proferi forth our gle.\n        Bifor the king he sat adoun\n    And tok his harp so miri of soun,\n    And tempreth his harp as he wel can,\n    And blisseful notes he ther gan,\n    That al that in the paleys were,\n    Com to him for to here,\n    And liggeth adoun to his fete,\n    Hem thenketh his melody so swete.\n    The king herkneth, and sitt ful stille,\n    To here his gle he hath gode wille.\n    Gode bourde[137] he hadde of his gle,\n    The riche quen al so hadde he.\n    When he hadde stint[138] his harping,\n    Than seyd to him the king,\n    Menstrel, me liketh wele thi gle,\n    Now aske of me what it be,\n    Largelich Ichil the pay,\n    Now speke, and tow might asay.\n    Sir, he seyd, Ich beseche the,\n    Thatow woldest give me,\n    That ich levedi bright on ble,[139]\n    That slepeth under the ympe tre.\n    Nay, quath the king, that nought nere,\n    A sori couple of you it were,\n    For thou art lene, rowe, and blac,\n    And sche is lovesome with outen lac;\n    A lothlich thing it were forthi,[140]\n    To sen hir in thi compayni.\n        O sir, he seyd, gentil king,\n    Yete were it a wele fouler thing\n    To here a lesing[141] of thy mouthe,\n    So, sir, as ye seyd nouthe,[142]\n    What Ich wold aski have Y schold;\n    And nedes thou most thi word hold.\n    The king seyd, seththen it is so,\n    Take hir bi the hand, and go;\n    Of hir Ichil thatow be blithe.\n    He kneled adoun, and thonked him swithe.[143]\n    His wiif he tok bi the hond\n    And dede him swithe[144] out of that lond;\n    And went him out of that thede,[145]\n    Right as he came the way he yede.[146]\n    So long he hath the way y nome,\n    To Winchester he is y come,\n    That was his owhen cite,\n    Ac no man knewe that it was he,\n    No forther than the tounes ende,\n    For knoweleche no durst wende,\n    Bot with a begger y bilt ful narwe,\n    Ther he tok his herbarwe,[147]\n    To him, and to his owhen wiif,\n    As a minstrel of pover liif,\n    And asked tidings of that lond,\n    And who the kingdom held in hond.\n    The pover begger, in his cote,[148]\n    Told him everich a grot[149]\n    How her quen was stole owy,\n    Ten yer gon with fairy,\n    And how her king en exile yede,\n    Bot no man niste in wiche thede,\n    And how the steward the lond gan hold,\n    And other mani thinges him told.\n        A morwe ogain none tide\n    He maked his wiif ther abide,\n    The beggers clothes he borwed anon,\n    And heng his harp his rigg[150] opon,\n    And went him in to that cite,\n    That men might him bi hold and se.\n    Erls, and barouns bold,\n    Burjays, and levedis, him gun bi hold;\n    Lo! thai seyd, swiche a man,\n    Hou long the here hongeth him opan!\n    Lo! hou his berd hongeth to his kne,\n    He is y clongen[151] al so a tre.\n    And as he yede in the strete,\n    With his steward he gan mete,\n    And loude he sett on him a crie,\n    Sir steward, he seyd, merci,\n    Icham an harpour of hethenisse,\n    Helpe me now in this distresse!\n    The steward seyd, com with me, come,\n    Of that Ichave thou schalt have some;\n    Everich gode harpour is welcom me to,\n    For mi lordes love, sir Orfeo.\n        In the castel the steward sat atte mete,\n    And mani lording was bi him sete;\n    There were trompour and tabourers,\n    Harpours fele, and crouders,[152]\n    Miche melody thai maked alle,\n    And Orfeo sat stille in the halle,\n    And herkneth when thai ben al stille,\n    He toke his harp and tempred schille,\n    The blifulest notes he herped there,\n    That ever ani man y herd with ere,\n    Ich man liked wel his gle.\n    The steward biheld and gan y se,\n    And knewe the harp als blive;\n    Menstrel, he seyd, so mot thou thrive,\n    Where hadestow this harp, and hou?\n    Ypray that thou me telle now.\n        Lord, quath he, in uncouthe thede,\n    Thurch a wildernes as Y yede;\n    Ther Y founde in a dale,\n    With lyouns a man to torn smale,\n    And wolves him frete[153] with teth so scharp;\n    Bi him Y found this ich harp,\n    Wele ten yere it is y go.\n    O! quath the steward, now me is wo!\n    That was mi lord, sir Orfeo!\n    Allas! wreche what schall Y do,\n    That have swiche a lord y lore,[154]\n    A way, that Ich was y bore,\n    That him was so hard grace y yarked,[155]\n    And so vile deth y marked!\n    Adoun he fel aswon to grounde,\n    His barouns him tok up in that stounde,[156]\n    And telleth him hou it geth,\n    It is no bot[157] of mannes deth.\n    King Orfeo knewe wel bi than,\n    His steward was a trewe man,\n    And loved him as he aught to do,\n    And stont up, and seyt thus lo,\n    Steward, herkne now this thing,\n    Yif Ich were Orfeo the king,\n    And hadde y suffred ful yore,\n    In wildernisse miche sore;\n    And hadde y won mi quen owy,\n    Out of the lond of fairy;\n    And hadde y brought the levedi hende,[158]\n    Right here to the tounes ende,\n    And with a begger her in[159] y nome,\n    And were mi self hider y come,\n    Poverlich to the thus stille,\n    For to asay thi gode wille;\n    And Ich founde the thus trewe,\n    Thou no schust it never rewe,\n    Sikerlich for love, or ay,[160]\n    Thou schust be king after mi day,\n    And yif thou of my deth hadest ben blithe,\n    Thou schust have voided al so swithe.\n        Tho al tho that ther in sete,\n    That it was king Orfeo under gete,[161]\n    And the steward him wele knewe,\n    Over and over the bord[162] he threwe,\n    And fel adoun to his fet;\n    So dede everich lord that ther sete,\n    And al thai sayd at o criing,\n    Ye beth our lord, sir, and our king.\n    Glad thai were of his live,\n    To chaumber thai ladde him als bilive,[163]\n    And bathed him and schaved his berd,\n    And tired him as a king apert[164];\n    And seththen with gret processioun,\n    Thai brought the quen in to the toun,\n    With al maner menstraci;\n    Lord, ther was grete melody!\n    For joie thai wepe with her eighe;\n    That hem so sounde y comen seighe.\n    Now king Orfeo newe coround is,\n    And his quen dame Heurodis;\n    And lived long afterward;\n    And seththen was king the steward.\n    Harpours in Bretaine after than\n    Herd hou this mervaile bigan,\n    And made her of a lay of gode likeing,\n    And nempned[165] it after the king.\n    That lay Orfeo is y hote[166];\n    Gode is the lay, swete is the note.\n    Thus com sir Orfeo out of his care;\n    God graunt ous alle wele to fare! Amen.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\nFrontispiece. \"The Last Judgment\" is an early work by Fra Angelico\n(1387-1455), who was a member of the Dominican order, and who spent his\nmonastic leisure in painting visionary scenes. The picture represents\nChrist on the judgment seat, encircled by cherubim and seraphim, with\nsaints and apostles seated on either side. Below are open graves. On\nHis left devils are driving sinners into hideous torments; on His\nright angels are conducting the blessed across the flowery meadows of\nthe earthly paradise toward the gleaming gates of the celestial city.\nThe detail given here is sometimes called \"The Dance of the Angels.\"\nThe robes of the angelic beings who go singing and caroling are in\nthe colors characteristic of Fra Angelico,\u2014azure, green, and rose,\nirradiated by countless golden stars.\n\n\nPROEM\n\nOf Man's Body. Of Man's Soul\n\nThis introductory bit of medi\u00e6val lore is translated from \"Cursor\nMundi\" (Over-runner of the World), a long poem, probably written in the\nearly fourteenth century. The author says plainly at the beginning of\nhis work that he is vying with romances and other secular tales which\ndraw the thoughts of men away from spiritual matters. The poem, written\nin 24,000 verses in the short couplet, tells the history of the seven\nages of the world, from the Creation to Doomsday, covering very much\nthe same matter as that presented in the miracle plays. The \"Cursor\nMundi\" has been edited by R. Morris for the Early English Text Society.\nLines 511-584 are here translated.\n\n\nDEBATE\n\nThe Amorous Contention of Phillis and Flora\n\n\"De Phillide et Flora,\" a Latin poem of the twelfth century, perhaps,\nwas translated about 1595 by George Chapman. In 1598 a certain \"R.\nS.\" republished this translation with a few minor changes, but the\nwork is essentially Chapman's. The present reprint follows the text\nin Thomas Wright's \"Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Mapes.\"\nCamden Society, Vol. XVI. London, 1841. The translation reproduces\nthe stanza and rime form of the original. Although the Elizabethan\nlanguage may present some difficulties, they are not very serious to\nany one who will read slowly enough to enjoy \"the proud full sail of\nhis great verse\" who may have been the rival of Shakespeare, and who\nwas certainly one of the inspirers of John Keats.\n\nThe poem itself is of significance because, as forerunner of poems of\nthe order of \"The Romance of the Rose,\" it illustrates significant\nmedi\u00e6val traits. The attitude towards nature, classicism, love, war,\nand learning is of great interest, and so, too, is the position of\nwomen in that sophisticated world. The disputation gives a pretty\npicture of the seriousness of feminine thought. The account of the\ncourt of the god of love and the power ascribed to him are a good\nintroduction to the conventions of love poetry.\n\nReaders of Theocritus will recall how his shepherds contend in song\nover the charms of their beloved maidens, in Idyll V and elsewhere.\n(See Lang's translation, The Macmillan Company, New York, 1889.) A\nstudy of the evolution of the debate, or disputation, will prove a good\nintroduction to the world of late classical and of medi\u00e6val literature.\nThere are many examples of debate, such as those between \"The Heart and\nthe Eye,\" \"The Body and the Soul,\" \"The Water and the Wine,\" \"The Owl\nand the Nightingale,\" \"The Thrush and the Nightingale,\" \"The Debate of\nthe Carpenter's Tools,\" \"The Dispute between Mary and the Cross,\" and\nmany others. Birds, flowers, animals, inanimate objects, human beings,\nand even virtuous abstractions were turned into medi\u00e6val disputants.\n\nFor information regarding debates, and for bibliographies of edited\ndebates, see\n\n MERRILL, E. The Dialogue in English Literature. Henry Holt and\n Company, New York, 1911.\n\n WELLS, J. E., Editor. The Owl and the Nightingale, p. liii. D. C.\n Heath & Co., Boston, 1907.\n\n SCHOFIELD, W. H. English Literature from the Norman Conquest to\n Chaucer, p. 485. The Macmillan Company, New York, 1906.\n\n\nThe Pleading of the Rose and of the Violet\n\nJean Froissart (1338-1410) was a distinguished French author who is\nbest known for the famous \"Chronicles of England, France, and Spain,\"\nwhich picture with extraordinary vividness scenes which Froissart\nactually witnessed.\n\nIn 1392, probably, Froissart wrote his \"Plaidorie de la Rose et de\nla Violette,\" which is here translated from his \"Po\u00e9sies,\" edited in\nthree volumes, with an excellent introduction, by A. Scheler, Brussels,\n1872. The value of his poetical works lies in their revelation of the\nliterary taste of the court and of the fashionable world of the day,\nfor he employed the artificial sentiment and the conventional forms\nof dream and allegory very pleasantly. The Plaidorie is not a famous\npoem, but it is chosen because it serves to illustrate a combination\nof various important traits. It is one of the many medi\u00e6val poems in\nwhich the flower _motif_ is pre\u00ebminent. Here Froissart introduces\nrather charming personifications, especially significant in the case\nof the fleur-de-lys, the national flower of France. In spite of\nthe trivial and sentimental attitude towards nature there are many\npassages of genuine feeling. The poem should be compared with Chaucer's\n\"Prologue to the Legend of Good Women,\" where the cult of the daisy is\nrepresented. Valuable aids to this study will be found in the following\narticles:\n\n LOWES, J. L. The Prologue to the Legend of Good Women as related to\n the French Marguerite Poems. _Publications of the Modern Language\n Association_, XIX, 593-683.\n\n MARSH, G. P. The Sources of the Flower and the Leaf. _Modern\n Philology_, IV, 121-167, 281-327.\n\nFurthermore, the jesting mockery of legal procedure should be noted.\nChaucer's \"Fortune\" employs legal phraseology, and although Froissart's\npoem may never have been known to Chaucer, the use of the terms and the\nassociations of law was frequent among poets. Readers of Shakespeare's\n\"Sonnets\" will recall his use of legal imagery, but of course he was\nuninfluenced by this poem.\n\n\nVISION\n\nThe Purgatory of Saint Patrick\n\nThis translation is a free rendering of a poem found in the famous\nAuchinleck manuscript, a collection of popular poetry copied in the\nfourteenth century. A description of this manuscript will be found\nin Scott's edition of \"Sir Tristem.\" The poem is in the six-line,\ntail-rime stanza which was much used in romances of the day. There are\nother versions of this legend in Latin, in French, and in English.\nBecause of its detail, this version, of the late thirteenth century,\nedited by E. Koelbing in _Englische Studien_, I, 98, has been chosen,\nalthough in some respects it is inferior in style to the other English\nversions. Especially interesting is the picture of the earthly\nparadise, which is nowhere else described so fully as it is here by\ncatalogues and other means. As an introduction to medi\u00e6val religious\nbeliefs the poem is almost unequaled. Pilgrimages, even to this day,\nare made, by the faithful, to Lough Derg, in Ireland, where Saint\nPatrick's Purgatory is still continuing its saving grace.\n\nStudents of comparative literature recognize in the story a body\nof tradition reaching back into remote times and forward to the\nRenaissance, finding its most perfect expression in Dante's \"Divine\nComedy\" (1321). Medi\u00e6val descriptions of hell and heaven were made more\nvivid by adopting the literary form known as the _vision_. The most\nfamiliar sort of vision is that which describes things seen in a dream,\nafter the author has fallen asleep. \"The Pilgrim's Progress\" is an\nexample of this type. Another sort of vision is that which relates what\nhas been perceived by some one in a state of mystical exaltation, as in\nthe Apocalypse of Saint John. The most realistic form of vision is that\nof \"Saint Patrick's Purgatory,\" where the experiences are described\nas if actually undergone, and yet they so transcend human probability\nthat the reader recognizes the apocalyptic element. The term \"vision\"\nis usually applied to poems describing mysteries of religious or moral\ntruth, and \"dream\" is applied to secular works such as \"The Romance\nof the Rose,\" and many other popular poems. Examples of visions from\nvarious epochs should be read in order to trace the history. Easily\naccessible texts in translation are\n\n ST. JOHN. Revelation. (King James Version.)\n\n HOMER. Odyssey, Book XI (translated by G. H. Palmer). Houghton Mifflin\n Company, Boston, 1891.\n\n VIRGIL. \u00c6neid, Book VI (translated by J. Conington). The Macmillan\n Company, New York, 1910.\n\n CICERO. Scipio's Dream (translated by C. R. Edmonds in the Bohn\n Library Cicero). The Macmillan Company, New York.\n\n BEDE. The Vision of Dryhthelm (in Cook and Tinker's \"Old English\n Prose,\" p. 58). Ginn and Company, Boston, 1908.\n\n DANTE. The Divine Comedy (translated by C. E. Norton). Houghton\n Mifflin Company, Boston, 1893.\n\n The Pearl (translated by S. Jewett). Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New\n York, 1908.\n\nFor critical studies of the vision and for exhaustive bibliographies of\nthe subject, see\n\n Apocalypse. Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica.\n\n WRIGHT, T. Saint Patrick's Purgatory. London, 1844.\n\n KRAPP, G. P. The Legend of Saint Patrick's Purgatory. John Murphy\n Company, Baltimore, 1900.\n\n BECKER, E. Medi\u00e6val Visions of Heaven and Hell. John Murphy Company,\n Baltimore, 1899.\n\n LANGLOIS, E. Origines et sources du Roman de la Rose, chap. v. Paris,\n 1890.\n\nFor information regarding the dream _motif_ in medi\u00e6val poems, see\n\n OWEN, D. Piers Plowman, A Comparison with some Earlier and\n Contemporary French Allegories, pp. 134-167. Hodder and Stoughton,\n London, 1912.\n\n NEILSON, W. A. The Origins and Sources of the Court of Love. (See\n \"Dream-setting\" in the index.) Ginn and Company, Boston, 1899.\n\nAccounts of purgatory and of the terrestrial paradise will be found in\n\"The Catholic Encyclopaedia.\" Further details regarding the earthly\nparadise are in Genesis ii, 8-17; Ezekiel xxviii, 13; \"Ph\u0153nix,\" in Cook\nand Tinker's \"Old English Poetry\"; \"Mandeville's Travels,\" XXXIII, and\nin Milton's \"Paradise Lost,\" IV. Two critical studies of importance are\n\n GOULD, S. B. Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. London, 1874.\n\n COLI, E. Il Paradiso Terrestre. Florence, 1897\n\n\nSAINTS' LIVES\n\nThe Life of Saint Brandon\n\nBrandon, Brendon, or Brandan, was an Irish Odysseus whose journeyings\nin search of the Land of Behest have a lasting fascination for all\nlovers of romantic adventure. The atmosphere of sanctity which made\nthis legend approved reading for the medi\u00e6val Christian gives a quaint\nirony to the accounts of fairies, demons, enchanted birds, and other\nmarvels which betray a frankly superstitious spirit. Travelers' records\nhave a distinct place in literature, as the names Ohthere, Marco Polo,\nMandeville, Hakluyt, Robinson Crusoe, Stevenson, Hearn and many others\nprove, and when the voyage is undertaken because of mingled love of\nexcitement, passion for the sea, zeal for discovery, and deep longing\nto find the ideal land, it has potent appeal to those who stay at home.\nIn almost every language there are tales which picture an earthly\nparadise. The Fortunate Isles, the Garden of the Hesperides, Calypso's\nIsle, Avalon, Hy Brasail, Tir-na'n-Og, are names given in Greek and in\nCeltic story to the abode of those who have won release from earthly\ncares and hardship, and have entered the realm of perfect terrestrial\npeace and beauty.\n\nThe translation is William Caxton's version of the life of Brandon\nbased upon some source not yet satisfactorily determined. Caxton's\nrather rambling but most charming rendering was included in \"The Golden\nLegend,\" mentioned below.\n\nAn exhaustive study of the Irish story upon which this legend is based,\nand much other material relating to this theme, will be found in Meyer\nand Nutt's \"The Voyage of Bran. Edited and translated by K. Meyer. With\nan Essay upon the Irish Version of the Happy Other-world and the Celtic\nDoctrine of Rebirth, by A. Nutt.\" 2 vols., David Nutt, London, 1895.\nInteresting also in connection with Brandon is the story of Sindbad, in\n\"The Arabian Nights.\"\n\n\nThe Life of Saint Margaret\n\nJacobus de Voragine (1230-1298), Archbishop of Genoa, was the author\nof \"Historia Lombardica seu Legenda Sanctorum,\" popularly known as\n\"Legenda Aurea.\" When William Caxton set up his printing press and\nbegan to multiply copies of the English classics, he included among\nhis publications an English rendering of the Latin text, \"The Golden\nLegend,\" (1483), which he based upon a French translation. The present\nversion is from Caxton's text, as printed in the Temple Classics.\n\nThe great popularity of lives of the saints is due partly to that\ntrait, inherent in human nature, of genuine devotion to any one of\nproved courage, especially when that courage is of the spirit, an\ninvincible religious faith and fortitude. Weak and unstable Christians\nfound inspiration in these saintly lives, and by continued meditation\nlearned many lessons of deep meaning. But, in addition to the ethical\ninterest, there was sympathy for the human experiences and the strange\nand fearful adventures of these elect of the Lord. As the metrical\nromances ministered to popular delight in knightly deeds, so, too,\nthese legends of the saints satisfied the world-old love of struggle\nand of victory. Saint Margaret, Saint Katherine, Saint Juliana, were\nthe women saints whose lives were best known to the Middle Ages, but\nthe many legendaries of the day gave ample record of scores of other\nsaints.\n\nFor versions of the life of Saint Margaret, see Early English Text\nSociety, No. 13. \"The Golden Legend\" in seven volumes (Temple Classics,\nE. P. Dutton and Company, New York) contains the fullest collection\nof lives of the saints. Middle English collections have been edited by\nCarl Horstmann. Fox's \"Book of Martyrs\" should be remembered, also.\n\n\nPIOUS TALES\n\nThe superstitions of the Middle Ages reveal themselves very fully\nin the various accounts of miracles performed by God, Christ, the\nVirgin, the saints, or by the relics treasured in churches and\nreligious houses. The study of medi\u00e6val religious life must include\nan examination of some of these fervent and na\u00efve records of the\nsupernatural power of holy objects and holy folk. The intense reverence\naccorded to sanctified things created, among medi\u00e6val Christians, a\npassionate disregard for the dictates of human reason. At first this\nblind faith and total abasement before sacred relics was a triumph\nof the spirit, but before long it became a triumph of the body, for\nphysical well-being and material prosperity were sought rather than\nspiritual enlightenment. In Chaucer's Pardoner's \"Prologue\" and in\nErasmus's account of his journeys to Walsingham and to Canterbury one\nfinds pictured the credulous and wholly unlovely side of the subject.\nWhen idealism declines and becomes sheer bigotry, without the charm of\nimaginative power, it must have its Wiclif and its Luther.\n\n\nA Miracle of God's Body\n\n\"A Miracle of God's Body\" is translated from Robert Mannyng of Brunne's\n\"Handlyng Synne\" (Manual of Sins). Early English Text Society, No. 123,\np. 333. See also p. 172 under Homily.\n\n\nA Miracle of the Virgin\n\n\"A Miracle of the Virgin\" is from a group of eight miracles, printed\nin Horstmann's edition of \"The Minor Poems of the Vernon Manuscript.\"\nEarly English Text Society, Part I, No. 98, pp. 138-166.\n\nOther legends connected with the Virgin are to be found in the\nfollowing volumes:\n\n UNDERHILL, E. The Miracles of Our Lady. E. P. Dutton & Company, New\n York, 1906.\n\n VINCENT, E. The Madonna of Legend and History. T. Whittaker, New York,\n 1899.\n\n KEMP WELCH, A., Translator. The Miracles of Our Lady, by Gautier de\n Coincy. Duffield & Company, New York, 1911.\n\n\nThe Translation of Saint Thomas of Canterbury\n\n\"The Translation of Saint Thomas of Canterbury\" comes from Caxton's\n\"Golden Legend,\" which should be consulted for a long account of the\nlife of Thomas. Dean Stanley's \"Memorials of Canterbury,\" now published\nin Everyman's Library, is an indispensable volume for the student.\n\n\nALLEGORY\n\nThe popularity of allegory, in the Middle Ages, as a means of conveying\nreligious and moral truth, led to the production of many very complex\nnarratives and sermons. An acquaintance with \"Piers Plowman\" will\nreveal the character of these works where the reader is soon lost in\nthe labyrinth of abstract names. \"The Romance of the Rose,\" translated\nby F. S. Ellis (Temple Classics, 3 vols., E. P. Dutton & Company, New\nYork), is the most important example of secular allegory in the Middle\nAges. \"The Order of Chivalry,\" a poem that defines the symbolism of\nthe knightly habit, will be found in Miss Butler's \"Tales from the Old\nFrench,\" Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, 1910, and also (as \"Sir Hugh\nof Tabarie\") in E. Mason's \"Aucassin and Nicolette and Other Medi\u00e6val\nRomances\" (Everyman's Library, E. P. Dutton & Company, New York, 1909).\n\nFor discussion of the origin and development of medi\u00e6val allegory, the\nreader should consult\n\n NEILSON, W. A. Origins and Sources of the Court of Love. See\n \"Allegory\" in the index. Ginn and Company, Boston, 1899.\n\n LANGLOIS, E. Origines et sources du Roman de la Rose, chap. iv. Paris,\n 1890.\n\n OWEN, D. Piers Plowman, A Comparison with French Allegories. Hodder\n and Stoughton, London, 1912.\n\n\n\"The Castle of Love\"\n\nThis extract from a long and very complex poem illustrates significant\naspects of medi\u00e6val religious allegory. The poem itself was written in\nFrench by Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln (who died in 1253),\nand was translated into English several times because of its great\npopularity. Beginning with an account of the Creation and of the Fall\nof Man, the poet went on to tell a parable of a Being who had one Son,\nHis equal in all ways, four daughters (named Mercy, Truth, Right, and\nPeace), and a thrall (named Adam), who was in prison. Mercy and Peace\npleaded for the thrall's releases, but Truth and Right objected, so the\nthrall was punished. Mercy and Peace fled from the land, and the world\n(except Noah and his family) was drowned. Peace once more appealed for\nthe ransom of the thrall, and the King's Son, hearing the dispute of\nthe four sisters, said He would put on the garments of the thrall and\nforce Peace and Right to be reconciled, and the world would be saved.\nSo Christ entered into the Castle of Love, and was born on earth for\nthe redemption of mankind. An account of the life and passion and\nresurrection of Christ is given, and the poem concludes with a prayer\nthat we may all be led by Him to everlasting bliss.\n\nThe best edition of the English version is\n\n HORSTMANN, C. \"The Minor Poems of the Vernon Manuscript,\" Part I,\n Early English Text Society, No. 98. This edition contains a version\n made in the latter part of the thirteenth century, and also a version\n by a monk of Sawley, in Yorkshire. The present extract is taken from\n the Sawley monk's translation (ll. 361-452) because that version gives\n the allegory in more coherent and careful detail than do the other\n versions, which fail to explain some of the symbolism.\n\n\nBESTIARY\n\nLion, Eagle, Whale, Siren\n\nFrom earliest times animals have been employed as symbolic figures by\nteachers and preachers, and the interest of the present day in animal\nlife and lore is evidence of the never-failing pleasure humanity finds\nin beast books. \u00c6sop's \"Fables,\" \"The Little Flowers of Saint Francis,\"\n\"Reynard the Fox,\" and \"The Jungle Stories\" illustrate various sides\nof the literature about the lesser folk. The medi\u00e6val bestiary was a\nbook which sought to enunciate religious instruction by an appeal to\nthe curiosity of credulous people. The didactic interest far exceeded\nthe scientific in these allegories which, to us, are most diverting\nmatter. The source of the bestiary is to be found in the Greek\n\"Physiologus\" (second century A.D.), which was translated into Latin by\nTheobaldus in the late Middle Ages, and then into other languages. In\nOld English literature \"The Whale\" and \"The Panther\" and a fragment of\n\"The Partridge\" are all that remain of the version in that language.\nThe Middle English bestiary of the thirteenth century contains\ndescriptions, followed by explication, of the lion, the eagle, the\nadder, the ant, the hart, the fox, the spider, the whale, the siren,\nthe elephant, the turtle dove, the panther, and the culver. There is a\nFrench bestiary written in England by Philippe de Tha\u00fcn, about 1120,\nwhich contains a portion of a lapidary also. A translation is in T.\nWright's \"Popular Treatises on Science written during the Middle Ages.\"\nLondon, 1841.\n\nThe text of the Middle English bestiary may be found in\n\n MORRIS, R. An Old English Miscellany. Early English Text Society, No.\n 49.\n\n MAETZNER, E. Altenglische Sprachproben, I, 55. Berlin, 1867.\n\n WRIGHT, T., and HALLIWELL, J. O. Reliquiae Antiquae, I, 208. London,\n 1845.\n\nSuggestive studies on the subject are\n\n KITTREDGE, G. L. Beast Fables, in Johnson's Universal Cyclop\u00e6dia.\n\n LAND, J. P. N. Physiologos, in Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica.\n\n LAUCHERT, F. Geschichte des Physiologus. Strassburg, 1889.\n\nIn the popular medi\u00e6val epic, \"Reynard the Fox,\" animals, very\nrealistically portrayed, yet with satirical symbolism, are the actors\nin a story full of interest to the modern reader. This is accessible in\nthe following English versions:\n\n CAXTON, W. Reynard the Fox. Percy Society, Vol. XII. London.\n\n MORLEY, H. Early English Prose Romances. E. P. Dutton and Company, New\n York, 1912.\n\n JACOBS, J. The Most Delectable History of Reynard the Fox. Macmillan\n and Company, London, 1895.\n\n\nLAPIDARY\n\nSelections from Lapidaries\n\nMarbodus, Bishop of Rennes in the twelfth century, was the author of\nthe lapidary which was best known during the Middle Ages. This book,\ncalled \"De Gemmis,\" was written in Latin verse, and gives the strange\nsuperstitions about the virtues and efficacies of sixty stones. Many of\nthese stones are now unknown to us. There was so much interest in this\nlapidary that it was frequently translated into French, both in verse\nform and in prose, and was popular in England as well as in France. The\ntraditions about stones developed two sorts of treatise: one in which\nthe purely pagan beliefs are represented, as they were handed down by\nAristotle, Pliny, Marbodus, and others; and a second in which the pagan\nsuperstitions are inwrought with Christian teachings and associated\nwith Scriptural passages. In translating Marbodus, a Christian clerk\nwould add and alter material in such a way as to impress religious\nsymbolisms upon his readers, through the popular interest in all the\nlore of stones.\n\nInformation regarding the lapidaries, as well as editions of various\nFrench and other lapidaries, will be found in the following books:\n\n PANNIER, L. Les Lapidaires fran\u00e7ais du moyen-\u00e2ge des XII^e, XIII^e, et\n XIV^e si\u00e8cles. Paris, 1882.\n\n MEYER, P. Les Plus Anciens Lapidaires fran\u00e7ais. _Romania_ (Jan.,\n Avril, Oct.). Paris, 1909.\n\n KING, C. W. Antique Gems. Contains a translation of the work of\n Marbodus. London, 1860.\n\n STREETER, E. W. Precious Stones and Gems, their History, Sources, and\n Characteristics. Illustrated in color. London, 1898.\n\n WRIGHT, T. Popular Treatises on Science written during the Middle\n Ages. London, 1841.\n\nThe accounts of diamond, sapphire, amethyst, geratite, chelidonius,\ncoral, heliotrope, pearl, and pantheros are translated from a French\nprose version of the Latin of Marbodus. The French translation was\nmade, perhaps, in England during the twelfth century. The text will\nbe found in Meyer, pp. 271-285. The French prose lapidary has been\nchosen rather than that in verse form, because it has fewer tags and\ncircumlocutions, and can be more faithfully rendered into English.\n\nThe diamond, or adamant, was a favorite stone. \"The Travels of Sir John\nMandeville,\" pp. 105-108, The Macmillan Company, New York, 1905, has an\ninteresting account of this.\n\nThe pearl has been the subject of much discussion. The present\ntranslation omits several lines in the French version which do not\nappear in Marbodus and which seem to be due to confusion with another\nstone. Consult Kunz and Stevenson's \"The Book of the Pearl,\" The\nCentury Company, New York, 1908, and pp. 599-610 of Schofield's article\n\"Symbolism, Allegory, and Autobiography in The Pearl.\" _Publications of\nthe Modern Language Association_, Vol. XVII.\n\nThe extract describing the carbuncle is from Pannier, p. 295, where\na prose fragment of a Christian lapidary is given. The carbuncle was\nfrequently mentioned in medi\u00e6val romances, and was supposed to give\nsuccess in battle, and also in lawsuits (see Meyer, p. 67).\n\nThe account of the symbolism of the twelve stones comes from Philippe\nde Tha\u00fcn's \"Bestiaire,\" verses 2977-3004. The Oxford Bible gives\nclassified lists of stones mentioned in the Scriptures.\n\n\nHOMILY\n\nConcerning Miracle Plays, Games, and Minstrelsy\n\nHomilies in prose and in verse were a common means of instruction. They\nwere usually more popular than mere sermons and sought to hold the\nattention by the use of copious illustration. The following extract is\nfrom \"Handlyng Synne\" (Manual of Sins), translated in 1303 by Robert\nMannyng of Brunne, from a French original, and edited by Dr. Furnivall,\nEarly English Text Society, No. 119. \"Handlyng Synne,\" a collection\nof homilies, denounces the seven deadly sins, citing many concrete\ninstances of fact and of fable in order to enforce the moral lessons.\nThe translation below interprets lines 4637-4774 (pp. 155-159), where\nthe sin of sloth is under discussion.\n\nFor information about minstrelsy the student should consult\n\n CHAMBERS, E. K. The Medi\u00e6val Stage, Vol. I, bk. i. Oxford University\n Press, 1903.\n\n GALPIN, F. W. Old English Instruments of Music. A. C. McClurg & Co.,\n Chicago, 1911.\n\n DUNCAN, E. The Story of Minstrelsy. Charles Scribner's Sons, New York,\n 1907.\n\n CUTTS, E. Scenes and Characters of the Middle Ages. Vertue and\n Company, London, 1886.\n\n\nSATIRE\n\nThe most popular satire in the Middle Ages is found in the fabliaux,\nshort tales which picture, with great zest, racy incidents in the\nlives of common people whose hidden sins or hypocrisies are suddenly\nexposed. The satire in these stories is exceedingly broad and attacks,\nby preference, women and the clergy, painting with vivid realism their\nimmorality and intense selfishness. Readers will find information\nregarding these in \"The English Fabliau,\" by H. S. Canby, _Publications\nof the Modern Language Association_, XXI, 200-214. Formal satire, which\npoints out abuses and vices by means of exposition, is illustrated in\nthe poems following. Satire against women is most agreeably found in\n\"The Romance of the Rose,\" chaps. xlvi-lii (translated by F. S. Ellis,\nTemple Classics). In _Romania_, XV, 315, 339; XVI, 389; XXXVI, 1, will\nbe found interesting matter relating to satires on women, in France.\n\n\nThe Song of the University of Paris\n\nThis is freely translated from the French poem of Rutebeuf, written\nin octosyllabic couplets, about the middle of the thirteenth century.\nRutebeuf was a famous minstrel whose vivid wit gave him a distinguished\nplace among medi\u00e6val writers. His works are full of autobiographical\ndetails; he pictured his unhappy domestic life, his poverty, all his\nfailings, and his virtues with an engaging frankness. In allegory he\nwas a master of the mannerisms of his day. In satire he was original\nand clever. The monastic orders aroused his fiercest resentment, and he\nmade sharp epigrams at their expense, accusing them of committing the\nseven deadly sins and more. The dry incisiveness of his ridicule may\nhave impressed Chaucer and also the author of \"Piers Plowman,\" although\nwe have no proof of this. A very good study of Rutebeuf has been\npublished by L. Cledat, Paris, 1891. The description of the medi\u00e6val\nstudent gives a true picture of the day, but Chaucer's description of\nthe Clerk of Oxford should be read as complement. For details regarding\nstudent life of the Middle Ages, consult\n\n RASHDALL, H. The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, 3 vols.\n London, 1895.\n\n HEWETT, W. T. University Life in the Middle Ages. _Harper's Magazine_,\n 1897.\n\n SYMONDS, J. A. Wine, Women and Song (translations of many student\n songs of the Middle Ages). Chatto and Windus, London, 1907.\n\n\nThe Land of Cockaygne\n\nThe meaning of _Cockaygne_ is usually understood to be \"cookery.\" This\nsatire upon the medi\u00e6val monks was probably derived from a French\noriginal. It illustrates the contemptuous tolerance of that day for\nthe greed, the gluttony, the slothfulness, and the immorality of\nthe inmates of the monastery. The satire directed against literary\nconventions of the day is particularly amusing, if we notice how the\nvarious catalogues of animals, birds, spices, flowers, jewels, and food\nparody similar catalogues in the romances and in the poems describing\nparadise. The poem was written, in the short couplet, about the middle\nof the thirteenth century. It is printed in E. Maetzner's \"Altenglische\nSprachproben,\" I, 148. Berlin, 1867. Wright's \"St. Patrick's\nPurgatory,\" London, 1844, contains an interesting chapter on this and\nsimilar burlesques.\n\n\nThe Complaint of the Husbandman\n\nThis \"complaint,\" or \"song,\" was written during the thirteenth century\nwhen the persecutions of the poor farmers by lords and their officers\nwere most extreme. The poem explains very fully the various abuses\nwhich finally so incensed the poor that they rose in revolt and won\ncertain rights from their oppressors. The Middle English text is found\nin K. Boeddeker's \"Altenglische Dichtungen,\" p. 102, Berlin, 1878, and\nin T. Wright's \"Political Songs,\" Camden Society, Vol. VI, p. 149.\n\nThe meter and rime of the original have been kept, in this translation,\neven at the risk of a few very slight changes in the order or in the\nphrasing of the original, because the versification is so illustrative\nof the transition from the old alliterative line to the elaborate\nstanza forms of the French period.\n\n\nSir Penny\n\nThis satire was evidently a popular one in the Middle Ages; it is\nfound in various forms in Latin, in French, and in English. The\nfollowing translation is made from a version, probably of about 1350,\nprinted in Thomas Wright's \"Latin Poems attributed to Walter Mapes,\"\nCamden Society, Vol. XVI, pp. 359-361. The poem is written in the\nsix-line, tail-rime stanza of \"Sir Thopas,\" and the translation seeks\nto preserve the cadences, movement, and structure of the original. It\nis interesting in connection with \"Piers Plowman\" and \"The Pardoner's\nTale,\" for it shows the great superiority of those satires, in\nimaginative appeal. The generalizations here are faithful, but they\nlack point and effectiveness because they do not drive home specific\ninstances about individuals. We have a personal interest in Lady Meed\nand in the Pardoner, but we care little about classes and types.\n\n\nLAY\n\nSir Orfeo\n\nThis Middle English version of a French lay seems to offer so few\ndifficulties that it is given in its original form, as it appears in\nthe Auchinleck manuscript. The text is copied from that edited by Laing\nin \"Select Pieces of Ancient Popular Poetry of Scotland,\" reprinted in\nEdinburgh, 1884. A critical edition of the poem was published by O.\nZielke, Breslau, 1880. A very charming free translation in stanza form\nhas been made by E. E. Hunt, Cambridge, 1909.\n\n\"Sir Orfeo\" is the medi\u00e6val interpretation of the story of Orpheus\nand Eurydice (Ovid's \"Metamorphoses,\" bk. x, ll. 1-77), which was\ntold in French, and then translated by some nameless but immortal\nEnglish poet. The beauty of this Middle English version is undeniable.\nDespite its brevity and its occasionally laconic phrases, the poem\nshows real pathos in the account of the passionate grief of Orfeo, and\nhis desolate wanderings in search of his lady. The concrete vividness\nof color and fragrance in nature, the dim stateliness of the retinue\nof the king of fairyland, the magic beauty of his strange abode, are\ndescribed with true poetic sensitiveness. In choice of detail, in\nmanagement of incident, in \"discovery,\" and in conclusion the narrative\nis singularly well managed.\n\nAs a medi\u00e6val rendering of a classical tale, the poem has many charms,\nbecause it so na\u00efvely and so completely changes the setting and\ninsists upon medi\u00e6val towers and dress and customs. Pluto's dark realm\nis transformed into a fairy kingdom, Thrace has become Winchester,\nand the wandering Greek is a Breton harper knocking at the door of a\nGothic castle. As a version of one of the most beautiful of the world's\nstories, this lay has true imaginative distinction; it pictures the\nloyalty of love and love's power over time and fairy spells, but it\nwillfully changes the outcome of the old story to suit the sentiment of\nhigh romance in an age when every tale must have a happy ending.\n\nOther lays, or brief tales, are described in W. H. Schofield's \"English\nLiterature from the Norman Conquest to Chaucer,\" p. 179. The Macmillan\nCompany, New York, 1906. \"Launfal,\" a lay of fairyland, is one of the\nmost beautiful. The lays of Marie de France are accessible in the\nfollowing translations:\n\n WESTON, J. Four Lais of Marie de France (including \"Launfal\"). Charles\n Scribner's Sons, New York, 1901.\n\n RICKERT, E. Seven Lais of Marie de France. Charles Scribner's Sons,\n New York, 1901.\n\nFairy lore is discussed by many students. The volumes named below will\nbe found serviceable to the student of English literature:\n\n PATON, L. A. Studies in the Fairy Mythology of Arthurian Romance. Ginn\n and Company, Boston, 1903.\n\n NUTT, A. The Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare. David Nutt, London, 1900.\n\n HAZLITT, W. C. Fairy Tales, Lays, and Romances Illustrating\n Shakespeare. London, 1875.\n\n SIDGWICK, F. The Sources and Analogues of \"A Midsummer Night's Dream.\"\n Duffield & Company, New York, 1908.\n\nIn translating the poem the student should pronounce all the unknown\nwords aloud and he will speedily recognize resemblances to modern\nwords. _Y_ is the pronoun \"I,\" but sometimes it is part of the\npast participle,\u2014_y-hold_ = \"held.\" _Ich_ is \"I,\" and also \"each.\"\nFrequently a pronoun and a verb are combined, as _ichil_ = \"I will\";\n_wiltow_ = \"wilt thou\"; sometimes the negative particle is combined\nwith a verb, as in _nis_ = \"is not\"; _nil_ = \"will not.\" _Owhen_\n= \"own\"; _yif_ = \"if.\" It is assumed that readers will recognize\nthe words used in the ballads or in Spenser's works. If there are\nwords which are not recognized they can be found in the New English\nDictionary, or in the New International Dictionary, or in Bradley and\nStratmann's Middle English Dictionary.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n\n[1] Temple Classics, 3 vols. Dutton, New York, 1900.\n\n[2] B. Smythe, Trobador Poets. (Translations.) Duffield, New York, 1911.\n\n[3] See Notes.\n\n[4] See Notes.\n\n[5] varied.\n\n[6] equal.\n\n[7] disagreement.\n\n[8] love.\n\n[9] pleasure.\n\n[10] describe.\n\n[11] equal.\n\n[12] quickness.\n\n[13] breastplate.\n\n[14] comprehend.\n\n[15] Achilles.\n\n[16] together.\n\n[17] see.\n\n[18] interval of a fifth.\n\n[19] nightingale.\n\n[20] music.\n\n[21] color.\n\n[22] staggers.\n\n[23] in fief.\n\n[24] love.\n\n[25] See Notes.\n\n[26] See Notes.\n\n[27] Fifteen, in other versions.\n\n[28] Other versions say that the bridge grew wider and wider as Owain\npassed over it.\n\n[29] A stringed instrument.\n\n[30] Here is a gap of two stanzas and more, pursuing the theme of Adam.\n\n[31] See Notes.\n\n[32] scarcely.\n\n[33] refectory.\n\n[34] ordinary.\n\n[35] hermits.\n\n[36] Thursday before Easter.\n\n[37] griffin.\n\n[38] with hair.\n\n[39] See Notes.\n\n[40] See Notes.\n\n[41] See Notes.\n\n[42] See Notes.\n\n[43] See Notes.\n\n[44] The four cardinal virtues: Fortitude, Temperance, Justice, and\nPrudence.\n\n[45] See Notes.\n\n[46] See Notes.\n\n[47] See Notes.\n\n[48] See Notes.\n\n[49] See Notes.\n\n[50] According to G. Paris he played on cymbals and exhibited a monkey.\n\n[51] See Notes.\n\n[52] See Notes.\n\n[53] See Notes.\n\n[54] hedge-warden, over-seer.\n\n[55] under-steward.\n\n[56] wood-warden.\n\n[57] religious orders.\n\n[58] peasant.\n\n[59] over-seers.\n\n[60] wax for king's seal.\n\n[61] salmon.\n\n[62] implement for pruning.\n\n[63] See Notes.\n\n[64] See Notes.\n\n[65] both.\n\n[66] called.\n\n[67] lady.\n\n[68] time.\n\n[69] bright, vigorous.\n\n[70] same.\n\n[71] forenoon.\n\n[72] grafted.\n\n[73] rubbed, wrung.\n\n[74] rent.\n\n[75] removed.\n\n[76] ran.\n\n[77] away.\n\n[78] took.\n\n[79] dear.\n\n[80] thee.\n\n[81] criest.\n\n[82] shrill.\n\n[83] before.\n\n[84] complexion.\n\n[85] eyes.\n\n[86] very.\n\n[87] since.\n\n[88] must.\n\n[89] directly.\n\n[90] again.\n\n[91] forest.\n\n[92] places.\n\n[93] taken.\n\n[94] woe.\n\n[95] lose.\n\n[96] defence.\n\n[97] taken.\n\n[98] dole.\n\n[99] order.\n\n[100] lost.\n\n[101] roam.\n\n[102] woods.\n\n[103] scarcely.\n\n[104] together.\n\n[105] pilgrim's robe.\n\n[106] however.\n\n[107] ease.\n\n[108] discomfort.\n\n[109] fur (variegated).\n\n[110] fur (gray).\n\n[111] linen.\n\n[112] wraps.\n\n[113] moss (?).\n\n[114] grub.\n\n[115] shrunken.\n\n[116] rough.\n\n[117] gather.\n\n[118] at last.\n\n[119] about.\n\n[120] branch.\n\n[121] accustomed.\n\n[122] speedily (?).\n\n[123] royal.\n\n[124] grandly.\n\n[125] front.\n\n[126] adorned.\n\n[127] dwellings.\n\n[128] dark (?).\n\n[129] sapphires are mentioned in one version.\n\n[130] lying.\n\n[131] head.\n\n[132] had no arms.\n\n[133] mad.\n\n[134] drowned.\n\n[135] withered.\n\n[136] mad (?).\n\n[137] sport.\n\n[138] ceased.\n\n[139] hue.\n\n[140] therefore.\n\n[141] lie.\n\n[142] just now.\n\n[143] warmly.\n\n[144] quickly.\n\n[145] people, land.\n\n[146] went.\n\n[147] harbor.\n\n[148] cottage.\n\n[149] bit.\n\n[150] back.\n\n[151] withered.\n\n[152] players on the _crowd_, a kind of violin.\n\n[153] ate.\n\n[154] lost.\n\n[155] given.\n\n[156] hour.\n\n[157] remedy.\n\n[158] gracious.\n\n[159] inn.\n\n[160] awe.\n\n[161] understood.\n\n[162] table.\n\n[163] quickly.\n\n[164] indeed.\n\n[165] named.\n\n[166] called.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES\n\n\nMinor punctuation and printer errors repaired.\n\nItalic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=.","title":"Legends and Satires from Medi\u00e6val Literature","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":40072}