Patience.
I.
[Fol. 83a.] Patience is often displeasing,
Pacience is a poynt, þaȝ hit displese ofte,
When heuy herttes ben hurt wyth heþyng oþer elles,
aswagen] MS. aswagend.
Suffraunce may aswagen hem & þe swelme leþe,
but it assuages heavy hearts, and quenches malice.
4 For ho quelles vche a qued, & quenches malyce;
For quo-so suffer cowþe syt, sele wolde folȝe,
Happiness follows sorrow.
& quo for þro may noȝt þole, þe þikker he sufferes;
PATIENCE IS TO BE COMMENDED.
It is better to suffer than to be angry.
Þen is better to abyde þe bur vmbe-stoundes,
8 Þen ay þrow forth my þro, þaȝ me þynk ylle.
I herde on a halyday at a hyȝe masse,
Matthew tells us of the promises made by Christ: Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
How mathew melede, þat his mayster his meyny con teche,
Aȝt happes he hem hyȝt & vche on a mede,
12 Sunderlupes for hit dissert vpon a ser wyse:
Thay arn happen þat han in hert pouerté,
For hores is þe heuen-ryche to holde for euer;
Blessed are the meek, for they shall “wield the world.”
Þay ar happen also þat haunte mekenesse,
16 For þay schal welde þis worlde & alle her wylle haue;
Blessed are the mourners, for they shall be comforted.
Thay ar happen also þat for her harme wepes,
For þay schal comfort encroche in kythes ful mony;
Blessed are the hungry, for they shall be filled.
Þay ar happen also þat hungeres after ryȝt,
20 For þay schal frely be refete ful of alle gode;
Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be their reward.
Thay ar happen also þat han in hert rauþe,
For mercy in alle maneres her mede schal worþe;
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see the Saviour.
Þay ar happen also þat arn of hert clene,
24 For þay her sauyour in sete schal se with her yȝen;
Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be called God’s sons.
Thay ar happen also þat halden her pese,
For þay þe gracious godes sunes schal godly be called;
Blessed are they that live aright, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Þay ar happen also þat con her hert stere,
28 For hores is þe heuen-ryche, as I er sayde.
These blessings are promised to those who follow
These arn þe happes alle aȝt þat vus bihyȝt weren,
If we þyse ladyes wolde lof in lyknyng of þewes;
[Fol. 83b.] poverty, pity, penance, meekness, mercy, chastity, peace and patience,
Dame pouert, Dame pitee, Dame penaunce þe þrydde,
32 Dame Mekenesse, Dame mercy & Miry clannesse,
& þenne Dame pes & pacyence put in þer-after.
He were happen þat hade one, alle were þe better,
syn] MS. fyn.
Bot syn I am put to a poynt þat pouerte hatte,
Poverty and patience are to be treated together.
36 I schal me poruay pacyence, & play me with boþe;
For in þe tyxte, þere þyse two arn in teme layde,
They are “fettled in one form,”
Hit arn fettled in on forme, þe forme & þe laste,
& by quest of her quoyntyse enquylen on mede,
and have one meed.
40 & als in myn vpynyoun hit arn of on kynde;
Poverty will dwell where she lists,
For þer as pouert hir proferes ho nyl be put vtter,
Bot lenge where-so-euer hir lyst, lyke oþer greme,
& þere as pouert enpresses, þaȝ mon pyne þynk,
mun] mon (?). and man must needs suffer.
44 Much maugre his mun, he mot nede suffer,
Poverty and patience are play-fellows.
Thus pouerte & pacyence arn nedes play-feres.
Syþen I am sette with hem samen, suffer me by-houes,
Þenne is me lyȝtloker hit lyke & her lotes prayse,
48 Þenne wyþer wyth & be wroth & þe wers haue.
What avails impatience,
Ȝif me be dyȝt a destyné due to haue,
What dowes me þe dedayn, oþer dispit make?
if God send affliction?
Oþer ȝif my lege lorde lyst on lyue me to bidde,
52 Oþer to ryde, oþer to renne, to rome in his ernde,
What grayþed me þe grychchyng bot grame more seche?
Much ȝif he me ne made, maugref my chekes,
Patience is best.
& þenne þrat moste I þole, & vnþonk to mede,
56 Þe[t] had bowed to his bode, bongre my hyure.
Did not Jonah incur danger by his folly?
Did not Ionas in Iude suche Iape sum-whyle,
To sette hym to sewrte, vnsounde he hym feches?
tyme] MS. tyne.
Wyl ȝe tary a lyttel tyme & tent me a whyle,
60 I schal wysse yow þer-wyth as holy wryt telles.
JONAH IS SENT TO NINEVEH.
II.
Jonah was a prophet of the gentiles.
Hit bi-tydde sum-tyme in þe termes of Iude,
Ionas ioyned watȝ þer-inne ientyle prophete;
God’s word came to him, saying,
Goddes glam to hym glod, þat hym vnglad made,
64 With a roghlych rurd rowned in his ere;
“Rise quickly, take the way to Nineveh.
“Rys radly,” he says, “& rayke forth euen,
Nym þe way to nynyue, wyth-outen oþer speche,
[Fol. 84a.]
& in þat cete my saȝes soghe alle aboute,
Say that which I shall put in thine heart.
68 Þat, in þat place at þe poynt, I put in þi hert;
For Iwysse hit arn so wykke þat in þat won dowelleȝ,
Wickedness dwells in that city.
& her malys is so much I may not abide,
Bot venge me on her vilanye & venym bilyue;
Go swiftly and carry my message.”
72 Now sweȝe me þider swyftly & say me þis arende.”
When þat steuen watȝ stynt, þat stowned his mynde,
Jonah is full of wrath.
Al he wrathed in his wyt & wyþerly he þoȝt,
If I bowe to his bode & bryng hem þis tale,
He is afraid that the shrews
76 & I be Nummen in Nuniue, my nyes begynes;
He telles me þose traytoures arn typped schrewes,
I com wyth þose tyþynges, þay ta me bylyue,
will put him in the stocks,
Pyneȝ me in a prysoun, put me in stokkes,
or put out his eyes.
80 Wryþe me in a warlok, wrast out myn yȝen.
Þis is a meruayl message a man for to preche,
Amonge enmyes so mony & mansed fendes;
He thinks that God desires his death.
Bot if my gaynlych god such gref to me wolde,
For] MS. fof.
84 For desert of sum sake þat I slayn were,
He determines not to go near the city,
At alle peryles, quod þe prophete, I aproche hit no nerre,
I wyl me sum oþer waye, þat he ne wayte after;
but fly to Tarshish.
I schal tee in-to tarce, & tary þere a whyle,
88 & lyȝtly, when I am lest, he letes me alone.
Grumbling, he goes to port Joppa.
Þenne he ryses radly, & raykes bilyue
Ionas toward port Iaph, ay Ianglande for tene,
Þat he nolde þole, for no-þyng, non of þose pynes,
He says that God will not be able to protect him.
92 Þaȝ þe fader þat hym formed were fale of his hele.
“Oure syre syttes,” he says, “on sege so hyȝe
In his g[l]wande glorye, & gloumbes ful lyttel,
HE SAILS FOR TARSHISH.
Þaȝ I be nummen in nuniue & naked dispoyled,
96 On rode rwly to-rent, with rybaudes mony.”
Jonah reaches the port, finds a ship ready to sail.
Þus he passes to þat port, his passage to seche,
Fyndes he a fayr schyp to þe fare redy;
Maches hym with þe maryneres, makes her paye,
100 For to towe hym in-to tarce, as tyd as þay myȝt.
The seamen catch up the cross-sail, fasten the cables, weigh their anchors,
Then he tron on þo tres & þay her tramme ruchen,
Cachen vp þe crossayl, cables þay fasten,
[Fol. 84b.]
Wiȝt at þe wyndlas weȝen her ankres,
104 Sprude spak to þe sprete þe spare bawe-lyne,
and spread sail.
Gederen to þe gyde ropes, þe grete cloþ falles;
Þay layden in on ladde-borde & þe lofe wynnes.
A gentle wind wafts the ship along.
Þe blyþe breþe at her bak þe bosum he fyndes,
108 He swenges me þys swete schip swefte fro þe hauen.
Was never a Jew so joyful as was Jonah then.
Watȝ neuer so Ioyful a Iue, as Ionas watȝ þenne,
Þat þe daunger of dryȝtyn so derfly ascaped;
He wende wel þat þat wyȝ þat al þe world planted,
112 Hade no maȝt in þat mere no man forto greue.
He has, however, put himself in peril,
Lo! þe wytles wrechche, for he wolde noȝt suffer,
Now hatȝ he put hym in plyt of peril wel more;
Hit watȝ a wenyng vn-war þat welt in his mynde,
in fleeing from God.
116 Þaȝ he were soȝt fro samarye þat god seȝ no fyrre,
Ȝise he blusched ful brode, þat burde hym by sure,
The words of David.
Þat ofte kyd hym þe carpe þat kyng sayde,
Dyngne dauid on des, þat demed þis speche,
120 In a psalme þat he set þe sauter with-inne;
O Foleȝ in folk feleȝ oþer whyle,
Does He not hear, who made all ears?
& vnderstondes vmbe-stounde, þaȝ he be stape fole,
Hope ȝe þat he heres not þat eres alle made?
He is not blind that formed each eye.
124 Hit may not be þat he is blynde þat bigged vche yȝe.
Jonah is now in no dread.
Bot he dredes no dynt þat dotes for elde,
For he watȝ fer in þe flod foundande to tarce;
He is, however, soon overtaken.
Bot, I trow, ful tyd, ouer-tan þat he were,
128 So þat schomely to schort he schote of his ame.
The wielder of all things has devices at will.
For þe welder of wyt, þat wot alle þynges,
Þat ay wakes & waytes, at wylle hatȝ he slyȝtes;
HE IS OVERTAKEN BY A TEMPEST.
He calde on þat ilk crafte he carf with his hondes,
132 Þay wakened wel þe wroþeloker, for wroþely he cleped:
He commands Eurus and Aquilo to blow.
“Ewrus & aquiloun, þat on est sittes,
Blowes boþe at my bode vpon blo watteres.”
The winds blow obedient to His word.
Þenne watȝ no tom þer bytwene his tale & her dede,
136 So bayn wer þay boþe two, his bone for to wyrk.
Out of the north-east the noise begins.
An-on out of þe norþ est þe noys bigynes,
When boþe breþes con blowe vpon blo watteres;
[Fol. 85a.]
Roȝ rakkes þer ros with rudnyng an-vnder,
Storms arose,
winds wrestled together, the waves rolled high,
140 Þe see souȝed ful sore, gret selly to here;
Þe wyndes on þe wonne water so wrastel to-geder,
Þat þe wawes ful wode waltered so hiȝe,
& efte busched to þe abyme þat breed fysches;
and never rested.
144 Durst nowhere for roȝ arest at þe bothem.
When þe breth & þe brok & þe bote metten,
Then was Jonah joyless.
Hit watȝ a ioyles gyn þat Ionas watȝ inne,
The boat reeled around.
For hit reled on roun[d] vpon þe roȝe yþes.
The gear became out of order.
148 Þe bur ber to hit baft þat braste alle her gere,
Þen hurled on a hepe þe helme & þe sterne,
Ropes and mast were broken.
Furst to murte mony rop & þe mast after.
Þe sayl sweyed on þe see, þenne suppe bihoued
colde] MS. clolde. A loud cry is raised, Many a lad labours to lighten the ship.
152 Þe coge of þe colde water, & þenne þe cry ryses;
Ȝet coruen þay þe cordes & kest al þer-oute.
Mony ladde þer forth-lep to laue & to kest,
Scopen out þe scaþel water, þat fayn scape wolde;
lode] lote (?).
156 For be monnes lode neuer so luþer, þe lyf is ay swete.
They throw overboard their bags and feather beds.
Þer watȝ busy ouer-borde bale to kest
Her bagges, & her feþer beddes, & her bryȝt wedes,
Her kysttes, & her coferes, her caraldes alle,
160 & al to lyȝten þat lome, ȝif leþe wolde schape;
But still the wind rages, and the waves become wilder.
Bot euer watȝ ilyche loud þe lot of þe wyndes,
& euer wroþer þe water, & wodder þe stremes.
Þen þo wery for-wroȝt wyst no bote,
Each man calls upon his god.
164 Bot vchon glewed on his god þat gayned hym beste;
Some called upon Vernagu, Diana, and Neptune, to the sun and to the moon.
Summe to vernagu þer vouched a-vowes solemne,
Summe to diana deuout, & derf nepturne,
To mahoun & to mergot, þe mone & þe sunne,
168 & vche lede as he loued & layde had his hert.
JONAH IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH,
Then said one of the sailors:
“Some lawless wretch, that has grieved his God, is in the ship.
Þenne bispeke þe spakest dispayred wel nere:
I leue here be sum losynger, sum lawles wrech,
Þat hatȝ greued his god & gotȝ here amonge vus;
172 Lo al synkes in his synne & for his sake marres!
I advise that we lay lots upon each man.
I lovne þat we lay lotes on ledes vchone,
& who-so lympes þe losse, lay hym þer-oute;
[Fol. 85b.] When the guilty is gone the tempest may cease.”
& quen þe gulty is gon what may gome trawe,
176 Bot he þat rules þe rak may rwe on þose oþer?
This is agreed to.
Þis watȝ sette in asent, & sembled þay were,
All are assembled, from all corners of the ship,
Herȝed out of vche hyrne to hent þat falles.
A lodes-mon lyȝtly lep vnder hachches,
180 For to layte mo ledes & hem to lote bryng,
Bot hym fayled no freke þat he fynde myȝt,
save Jonah the Jew,
Saf Ionas þe Iwe þat Iowked in derne.
who had fled into the bottom of the boat.
He watȝ flowen for ferde of þe flode lotes
184 In-to þe boþem of þe bot, & on a brede lyggede,
On helde by þe hurrok, for þe heuen wrache,
There he falls asleep.
Slypped vpon a sloumbe, selepe, & sloberande he routes.
Soon he is aroused,
Þe freke hym frunt with his fot & bede hym ferk vp,
188 Þer ragnel in his rakentes hym rere of his dremes;
Bi þe haspede he hentes hym þenne,
and brought on board.
& broȝt hym vp by þe brest & vpon borde sette,
Full roughly is he questioned.
Arayned hym ful runyschly what raysoun he hade
192 In such slaȝtes of sorȝe to slepe so faste;
The lot falls upon Jonah.
Sone haf þay her sortes sette & serelych deled,
þe] MS. þe þe.
& ay þe lote, vpon laste, lymped on Ionas.
Then quickly they said:
“What the devil hast thou done, doted wretch?
Þenne ascryed þay hym sckete, & asked ful loude,
196 “What þe deuel hatȝ þou don, doted wrech?
What seekest thou on the sea?
What seches þou on see, synful schrewe,
With þy lastes so luþer to lose vus vchone?
Hast thou no God to call upon?
Hatȝ þou, gome, no gouernour ne god on to calle,
200 Þat þou þus slydes on slepe when þou slayn worþes?
Of what land art thou?
Of what londe art þou lent, what laytes þou here
Whyder in worlde þat þou wylt, & what is þyn arnde?
Thou art doomed for thy ill deeds.”
Lo þy dom is þe dyȝt, for þy dedes ille!
204 Do gyf glory to þy godde, er þou glyde hens.”
Jonah says: “I am a Hebrew,
a worshipper of the world’s Creator.
“I am an Ebru,” quod he, “of Israyl borne;
Þat wyȝe I worchyp, Iwysse, þat wroȝt alle þynges,
Alle þe worlde with þe welkyn, þe wynde & þe sternes,
208 & alle þat woneȝ þer with-inne, at a worde one.
All this mischief is caused by me, therefore cast me overboard.”
Alle þis meschef for me is made at þys tyme,
For I haf greued my god & gulty am founden;
[Fol. 86a.] baþeþes] baþes (?).
For-þy bereȝ me to þe borde, & baþeþes me þer-oute,
212 Er gete ȝe no happe, I hope forsoþe.”
AND IS CAST OVERBOARD.
hym] hem (?).
He ossed hym by vnnynges þat þay vnder-nomen,
He proves to them that he was guilty.
Þat he watȝ flawen fro þe face of frelych dryȝtyn;
The mariners are exceedingly frightened.
Þenne such a ferde on hem fel & flayed hem with-inne,
216 Þat þay ruyt hym to rowwe & letten þe rynk one.
They try to make way with their oars,
Haþeles hyȝed in haste with ores ful longe,
Syn her sayl watȝ hem aslypped on sydeȝ to rowe;
Hef & hale vpon hyȝt to helpen hym seluen,
but their endeavours are useless.
220 Bot al watȝ nedles note, þat nolde not bityde:
In bluber of þe blo flod bursten her ores,
Jonah must be doomed to death.
Þenne hade þay noȝt in her honde þat hem help myȝt;
Þenne nas no coumfort to keuer, ne counsel non oþer,
224 Bot ionas in-to his Iuis Iugge bylyue.
They pray to God,
Fyrst þay prayen to þe prynce þat prophetes seruen,
Þat he gef hem þe grace to greuen hym neuer,
that they may not shed innocent blood.
Þat þay in baleleȝ blod þer blenden her handeȝ,
228 Þaȝ þat haþel wer his, þat þay here quelled.
Jonah is cast overboard.
Tyd by top & bi to þay token hym synne,
In-to þat lodlych loȝe þay luche hym sone;
out-tulde] out-tulte (?). The tempest ceases and the sea settles.
He watȝ no tytter out-tulde þat tempest ne sessed,
232 Þe se saȝtled þer-with, as sone as ho moȝt.
Þenne þaȝ her takel were torne, þat totered on yþeȝ,
The stiff streams drive the ship about.
Styffe stremes & streȝt hem strayned a whyle,
serue] sterue (?).
Þat drof hem dryȝlych adoun þe depe to serue,
At last they reach a bank.
236 Tyl a swetter ful swyþe hem sweȝed to bonk.
The seamen thank God,
and perform solemn vows.
Þer watȝ louyng on lofte, when þay þe londe wonnen,
To oure mercyable god, on moyses wyse,
With sacrafyse vp-set, & solempne vowes,
240 & graunted hym vn-to be god & graythly non oþer;
Jonah is in great dread.
Þaȝ þay be Iolef for Ioye, Ionas ȝet dredes,
Þaȝ he nolde suffer no sore, his seele is on anter;
For what-so worþed of þat wyȝe, fro he in water dipped,
244 Hit were a wonder to wene, ȝif holy wryt nere.
A WILD WHALE SWALLOWS JONAH.
III.
Jonah is shoved from the ship. to] MS. to to.
Now is ionas þe Iwe Iugged to drowne;
Of þat schended schyp men schowued hym sone.
[Fol. 86b.] A wild whale swims by the boat.
A wylde walterande whal, as wyrde þen schaped,
248 Þat watȝ beten fro þe abyme, bi þat bot flotte,
& watȝ war of þat wyȝe þat þe water soȝte,
He opens his swallow,
& swyftely swenged hym to swepe & his swolȝ opened;
Þe folk ȝet haldande his fete þe fysch hym tyd hentes,
and seizes the prophet.
252 With-outen towche of any tothe he tult in his þrote.
swayues] swaynes (?).
Thenne he swengeȝ & swayues to þe se boþem,
Bi mony rokkeȝ ful roȝe & rydelande strondes,
Wyth þe mon in his mawe, malskred in drede.
It is not to be wondered at that Jonah suffered woe.
256 As lyttel wonder hit watȝ ȝif he wo dreȝed,
For nade þe hyȝe heuen kyng, þurȝ his honde myȝt,
Warded þis wrech man in warlowes gutteȝ,
What lede moȝt lyue bi lawe of any kynde,
260 Þat any lyf myȝt be lent so longe hym with-inne?
Bot he watȝ sokored by þat syre þat syttes so hiȝe,
wauleȝ] wanleȝ (?). The prophet is without hope.
Þaȝ were wauleȝ of wele, in wombe of þat fissche,
& also dryuen þurȝ þe depe, & in derk waltereȝ.
Cold was his comfort.
264 Lorde! colde watȝ his cumfort & his care huge,
For he knew vche a cace & kark þat hym lymped;
How fro þe bot in-to þe blober watȝ with a best lachched,
þrwe] þrwen (?).
& þrwe in at hit þrote, with-outen þret more,
Jonah was only a mote in the whale’s jaws.
268 As mote in at a munster dor, so mukel wern his chawleȝ,
He entered in by the gills, and by means of one of the intestines of the fish, came into a space as large as a hall.
He glydes in by þe giles, þurȝ glaymande glette,
Relande in by a rop, a rode þat hym þoȝt,
Ay hele ouer hed, hourlande aboute,
272 Til he blunt in a blok as brod as a halle;
The prophet fixes his feet firmly in the belly of the whale.
& þer he festnes þe fete & fathmeȝ aboute,
& stod vp in his stomak, þat stank as þe deuel;
Þer in saym & in sorȝe þat sauoured as helle,
276 Þer watȝ bylded his bour, þat wyl no bale suffer;
& þenne he lurkkes & laytes where watȝ le best,
He searches into every nook of its navel.
In vche a nok of his nauel, bot nowhere he fyndeȝ
No rest ne recouerer, bot ramelande myre,
280 In wych gut so euer he gotȝ; bot euer is god swete;
The prophet calls upon God.
& þer he lenged at þe last & to þe lede called.
“Now prynce, of þy prophete pité þou haue!
[Fol. 87a.]
Þaȝ I be fol, & fykel, & falce of my hert,
He cries for mercy.
284 De-woyde now þy vengaunce, þurȝ vertu of rauthe;
Thaȝ I be gulty of gyle as gaule of prophetes,
Þou art god, & alle gowdeȝ ar grayþely þyn owen;
Haf now mercy of þy man & his mys-dedes,
288 & preue þe lyȝtly a lorde, in londe & in water.”
He sits safely in a recess,
With þat he hitte to a hyrne & helde hym þer-inne,
Þer no de-foule of no fylþe watȝ fest hym abute;
Þer he sete also sounde, saf for merk one,
292 As in þe bulk of þe bote, þer he by-fore sleped.
in a bowel of the beast,
So in a bouel of þat best he bideȝ on lyue,
for three days and three nights.
Þre dayes & þ[r]e nyȝt ay þenkande on dryȝtyn,
His myȝt & his merci, his mesure þenne;
296 Now he knaweȝ hym in care þat couþe not in sele.
THE WHALE WANDERS ABOUT.
The whale passes through many a rough region.
Ande euer walteres þis whal bi wyldren depe,
Þurȝ mony a regioun ful roȝe, þurȝ ronk of his wylle,
Jonah makes the whale feel sick.
For þat mote in his mawe mad hym, I trowe,
300 Þaȝ hit lyttel were, hym wyth to wamel at his hert,
Ande assayled þe segge; ay sykerly he herde
Þe bygge borne on his bak & bete on his sydes;
The prophet prays to God in this wise:
Þen a prayer ful prest þe prophete þer maked
304 On þis wyse, as I wene, his wordeȝ were mony:
JONAH PRAYS FOR HIS DELIVERANCE.
IV.
“Lord! to thee have I cried out of hell’s womb.
“Lorde to þe haf I cleped, in careȝ ful stronge,
Out of þe hole þou me herde, of hellen wombe
I calde, & þou knew myn vncler steuen;
Thou dippedst me in the sea.
308 Þou dipteȝ me of þe depe se, in-to þe dymme hert,
Thy great floods passed over me.
Þe grete flem of þy flod folded me vmbe;
Alle þe goteȝ of þy guferes, & groundeleȝ powleȝ,
The streams drive over me.
& þy stryuande stremeȝ of stryndeȝ so mony,
312 In on daschande dam, dryueȝ me ouer;
I am cast out from thy sight.
& ȝet I say, as I seet in þe se boþem,
‘Care-ful am I kest out fro þy cler yȝen
& deseuered fro þy syȝt; ȝet surely I hope,
316 Efte to trede on þy temple & teme to þy seluen.’
I am wrapped in water to my wo stoundeȝ,
The abyss binds me.
Þe abyme byndes þe body þat I byde inne;
[Fol. 87b.] The rushing waves play on my head.
Þe pure poplande hourle playes on my heued,
320 To laste mere of vche a mount man am I fallen;
Þe barreȝ of vche a bonk ful bigly me haldes,
lont] lond (?). Thou possessest my life.
Þat I may lachche no lont & þou my lyf weldes;
Þou schal releue me renk, whil þy ryȝt slepeȝ,
324 Þurȝ myȝt of þy mercy þat mukel is to tryste.
In my anguish I remembered my God,
For when þacces of anguych watȝ hid in my sawle,
Þenne I remembred me ryȝt of my rych lorde,
and besought His pity.
Prayande him for peté his prophete to here,
328 Þat in-to his holy hous myn orisoun moȝt entre.
I haf meled with þy maystres mony longe day,
Bot now I wot wyterly, þat þose vnwyse ledes
hym] hem (?).
Þat affyen hym in vanyté & in vayne þynges,
þink] þing (?).
332 For þink þat mountes to noȝt, her mercy forsaken;
When I am delivered from this danger,
Bot I dewoutly awowe þat verray betȝ halden,
Soberly to do þe sacrafyse when I schal saue worþe,
I will obey thy commands.”
& offer þe for my hele a ful hol gyfte,
336 & halde goud þat þou me hetes; haf here my trauthe.”
THE WHALE VOMITS UP JONAH.
God speaks fiercely to the whale,
and he vomits out the prophet on a dry space.
Thenne oure fader to þe fysch ferslych biddeȝ,
Þat he hym sput spakly vpon spare drye;
Þe whal wendeȝ at his wylle & a warþe fyndeȝ,
340 & þer he brakeȝ vp þe buyrne, as bede hym oure lorde.
Jonah has need to wash his clothes.
Þenne he swepe to þe sonde in sluchched cloþes,
Hit may wel be þat mester were his mantyle to wasche;
Þe bonk þat he blosched to & bode hym bisyde,
344 Wern of þe regiounes ryȝt þat he renayed hade;
God’s word comes to the prophet.
Þenne a wynde of goddeȝ worde efte þe wyȝe bruxleȝ,
“Nylt þou neuer to nuniue bi no-kynneȝ wayeȝ?”
“Ȝisse lorde,” quod þe lede, “lene me þy grace
non] MS. mon. He is told to preach in Nineveh.
348 For to go at þi gre, me gayneȝ non oþer.”
“Ris, aproche þen to prech, lo þe place here!
loke] loken (?).
Lo! my lore is in þe loke, lance hit þer-inne.”
Þenne þe renk radly ros as he myȝt,
By night Jonah reaches the city.
352 & to niniue þat naȝt he neȝed ful euen;
Nineveh was a very great city.
Hit watȝ a ceté ful syde & selly of brede,
On to þrenge þer-þurȝe watȝ þre dayes dede.
THE PROPHET PREACHES AGAINST NINEVEH.
[Fol. 88a.]
Þat on Iournay ful Ioynt Ionas hym ȝede,
356 Er euer he warpped any worde to wyȝe þat he mette,
Jonah delivers his message;
& þenne he cryed so cler, þat kenne myȝt alle;
Þe trwe tenor of his teme he tolde on þis wyse:
“Yet forty days and Nineveh shall come to an end.
“Ȝet schal forty dayeȝ fully fare to an ende,
360 & þenne schal Niniue be nomen & to noȝt worþe;
Truly þis ilk toun schal tylte to grounde,
It shall be turned upside down,
and swallowed quickly by the black earth.”
Vp-so-doun schal ȝe dumpe depe to þe abyme,
To be swolȝed swyftly wyth þe swart erþe,
364 & alle þat lyuyes here-inne lose þe swete.”
This speech spreads throughout the city.
Þis speche sprang in þat space & spradde alle aboute,
To borges & to bacheleres, þat in þat burȝ lenged;
Great fear seizes all.
Such a hidor hem bent & a hatel drede,
368 Þat al chaunged her chere & chylled at þe hert.
Þe segge sesed not ȝet, bot sayde euer ilyche
“Þe verray vengaunce of god schal voyde þis place.”
The people mourn secretly,
Þenne þe peple pitosly pleyned ful stylle,
372 & for þe drede of dryȝtyn doured in hert;
clothe themselves in sackcloth,
Heter hayreȝ þay hent þat asperly bited,
& þose þay bounden to her bak & to her bare sydeȝ,
and cast ashes upon their heads.
Dropped dust on her hede & dymly bisoȝten,
376 Þat þat penaunce plesed him þat playneȝ on her wronge.
The message reaches the ears of the king.
& ay he cryes in þat kyth tyl þe kyng herde;
& he radly vp-ros & ran fro his chayer,
He rends his robes,
His ryche robe he to-rof of his rigge naked,
380 & of a hep of askes he hitte in þe myddeȝ;
clothes himself in sackloth,
He askeȝ heterly a hayre & hasped hym vmbe,
Sewed a sekke þer abof, & syked ful colde;
and mourns in the dust.
Þer he dased in þat duste, with droppande teres,
384 Wepande ful wonderly alle his wrange dedes.
He issues a decree,
Þenne sayde he to his seriauntes, “samnes yow bilyue,
Do dryue out a decre demed of my seluen,
that all in the city, men, beasts, women and children, prince, priest, and prelates,
Þat alle þe bodyes þat ben with-inne þis borȝ quyk,
388 Boþe burnes & bestes, burdeȝ & childer,
Vch prynce, vche prest & prelates alle,
should fast for their sins.
Alle faste frely for her falce werkes;
[Fol. 88b.] Children are to be weaned from the breast.
Seseȝ childer of her sok, soghe hem so neuer,
392 Ne best bite on no brom, ne no bent nauþer,
Passe to no pasture, ne pike non erbes,
The ox is to have no hay, nor the horse any water.
Ne non oxe to no hay, ne no horse to water;
Al schal crye for-clemmed, with alle oure clere strenþe,
396 Þe rurd schal ryse to hym þat rawþe schal haue;
Who can tell if God will have mercy?
What wote oþer wyte may ȝif þe wyȝe lykes,
Þat is hende in þe hyȝt of his gentryse?
Though He is mighty,
I wot his myȝt is so much, þaȝ he be mysse-payed,
He is merciful,
400 Þat in his mylde amesyng he mercy may fynde;
& if we leuen þe layk of oure layth synnes,
& stylle steppen in þe styȝe he styȝtleȝ hym seluen,
He wyl wende of his wodschip, & his wrath leue,
and may forgive us our guilt.
404 & for-gif vus þis gult ȝif we hym god leuen.”
All believed and repented.
Þenne al leued on his lawe & laften her synnes,
Par-formed alle þe penaunce þat þe prynce radde;
God forgave them through his goodness.
& god þurȝ his godnesse forgef as he sayde,
408 Þaȝ he oþer bihyȝt, [&] with-helde his vengaunce.
GOD’S MERCY DISPLEASES JONAH.
V.
Much sorrow settles upon Jonah.
Muche sorȝe þenne satteled vpon segge Ionas,
He wex as wroth as þe wynde towarde oure lorde,
He becomes very angry.
So hatȝ anger onhit his hert; he calleȝ
He prays to God and says:
412 A prayer to þe hyȝe prynce, for pyne, on þys wyse:
“Was not this my saying, when Thy message reached me in my own country?
“I biseche þe syre now þou self iugge,
Watȝ not þis ilk my worde þat worþen is nouþe,
Þat I kest in my cuntre, when þou þy carp sendeȝ,
416 Þat I schulde tee to þys toun, þi talent to preche?
I knew Thy great goodness,
Wel knew I þi cortaysye, þy quoynt soffraunce.
Þy bounté of debonerté & þy bene grace,
Thy long-suffering,
and Thy mercy.
Þy longe abydyng wyth lur, þy late vengaunce,
420 & ay þy mercy is mete, be mysse neuer so huge.
I wyst wel when I hade worded quatsoeuer I cowþe,
I knew these men might make their peace with Thee,
To manace alle þise mody men þat in þis mote dowelleȝ,
Wyth a prayer & a pyne þay myȝt her pese gete,
therefore I fled unto Tarshish.
424 & þer-fore I wolde haf flowen fer in-to tarce.
Take my life from me, O Lord!
Now lorde lach out my lyf, hit lastes to longe,
Bed me bilyue my bale stour, & bryng me on ende,
[Fol. 89a.] It is better for me to die than live.”
For me were swetter to swelt, as swyþe as me þynk,
428 Þen lede lenger þi lore, þat þus me les makeȝ.”
God upbraids Jonah, saying:
Þe soun of oure souerayn þen swey in his ere,
Þat vpbraydes þis burne vpon a breme wyse:
“Is this right to be so wroth?”
“Herk renk! is þis ryȝt so ronkly to wrath,
432 For any dede þat I haf don oþer demed þe ȝet?”
Jonah, jangling, uprises,
Ionas al Ioyles & Ianglande vp-ryses
& haldeȝ out on est half of þe hyȝe place,
& farandely on a felde he fetteleȝ hym to bide,
436 For to wayte on þat won what schulde worþe after.
and makes himself a bower,
Þer he busked hym a bour, þe best þat he myȝt,
of hay and ever-fern,
Of hay & of euer-ferne & erbeȝ a fewe,
For hit watȝ playn in þat place for plyande greueȝ,
to shield him from the sun.
440 For to schylde fro þe schene, oþer any schade keste.
He bowed vnder his lyttel boþe, his bak to þe sunne,
He slept heavily all night.
& þer he swowed & slept sadly al nyȝt,
JONAH IS SHELTERED BY A WOODBINE.
God prepared a woodbine.
Þe whyle god of his grace ded growe of þat soyle,
444 Þe fayrest bynde hym abof þat euer burne wyste.
When þe dawande day dryȝtyn con sende,
Jonah awakes, and is exceedingly glad of the bower.
Þenne wakened þe wyȝ vnder wodbynde,
Loked alofte on þe lef þat lylled grene;
448 Such a lefsel of lof neuer lede hade,
For hit watȝ brod at þe boþem, boȝted onlofte,
Happed vpon ayþer half a hous as hit were,
A nos on þe norþ syde & nowhere non elleȝ,
452 Bot al schet in a schaȝe þat schaded ful cole.
The prophet, under its gracious leaves,
Þe gome glyȝt on þe grene graciouse leues,
Þat euer wayued a wynde so wyþe & so cole;
Þe schyre sunne hit vmbe-schon, þaȝ no schafte myȝt
is protected from the sun’s rays.
456 Þe mountaunce of a lyttel mote, vpon þat man schyne,
Þenne watȝ þe gome so glad of his gay logge,
Lys loltrande þer-inne, lokande to toune,
So blyþe of his wodbynde he balteres þer vnde[r],
þe] de altered to þe.
460 Þat of no diete þat day þe deuel haf, he roȝt;
& euer he laȝed as he loked þe loge alle aboute,
Jonah wishes he had such a lodge in his own country.
& wysched hit were in his kyth, þer he wony schulde,
[Fol. 89b.]
On heȝe vpon Effraym oþer ermonnes hilleȝ,
464 “I-wysse a worþloker won to welde I neuer keped.”
& quen hit neȝed to naȝt nappe hym bihoued;
He slydeȝ on a sloumbe, slep sloghe vnder leues,
God prepared a worm,
that made the woodbine wither.
Whil god wayned a worme þat wrot vpe þe rote,
468 & wyddered watȝ þe wodbynde bi þat þe wyȝe wakned;
& syþen he warneȝ þe west to waken ful softe,
vnte] vnto (?).
& sayeȝ vnte ȝeferus þat he syfle warme,
Þat þer quikken no cloude bi-fore þe cler sunne,
472 & ho schal busch vp ful brode & brenne as a candel.
Jonah awakes and finds his woodbine destroyed.
Þen wakened þe wyȝe of his wyl dremes,
& blusched to his wodbynde þat broþely watȝ marred,
The leaves were all faded.
Al welwed & wasted þo worþelych leues;
476 Þe schyre sunne hade hem schent, er euer þe schalk wyst,
The sun beat upon the head of Jonah.
& þen hef vp þe hete & heterly brenned;
Þe warm wynde of þe weste wertes he swyþeȝ.
HE LAMENTS ITS DESTRUCTION.
Þe man marred on þe molde þat moȝt hym not hyde,
480 His wodbynde watȝ away, he weped for sorȝe,
He is exceedingly angry,
“With hatel anger & hot, heterly he calleȝ:
A! þou maker of man, what maystery þe þynkeȝ
Þus þy freke to forfare forbi alle oþer,
484 With alle meschef þat þou may, neuer þou me spareȝ?
I keuered me a cumfort þat now is caȝt fro me,
My wod-bynde so wlonk þat wered my heued,
Bot now I se þou art sette my solace to reue;
and prays God that he may die.
488 Why ne dyȝtteȝ þou me to diȝe; I dure to longe?”
God rebukes the prophet.
Ȝet oure lorde to þe lede lansed a speche:
“Dost thou well,” He says, “to be angry for the gourd?”
“Is þis ryȝt-wys þou renk, alle þy ronk noyse,
So wroth for a wodbynde to wax so sone,
492 Why art þou so waymot wyȝe for so lyttel?”
Jonah replies, “I would I were dead.”
“Hit is not lyttel,” quod þe lede, “bot lykker to ryȝt,
I wolde I were of þis worlde wrapped in moldeȝ.”
God asks if it is to be wondered at that He should help His handy work.
“Þenne byþenk þe mon, if þe for-þynk sore,
496 If I wolde help my honde werk, haf þou no wonder;
Is not Jonah angry that his woodbine is destroyed, which cost him no labour?
Þou art waxen so wroth for þy wod-bynde,
& trauayledeȝ neuer to tent hit þe tyme of an howre,
[Fol. 89a.]
Bot at a wap hit here wax & away at an oþer,
500 & ȝet lykeȝ þe so luþer, þi lyf woldeȝ þou tyne;
GOD JUSTIFIES HIS MERCY AND FORBEARANCE.
God is not to be blamed for taking pity upon people that He made.
Þenne wyte not me for þe werk þat I hit wolde help,
& rwe on þo redles þat remen for synne.
Fyrst I made hem myself of materes myn one,
504 & syþen I loked hem ful longe & hem on lode hade;
& if I my trauayl schulde tyne of termes so longe,
Should He destroy Nineveh the sorrow of such a sweet place would sink to His heart.
& type doun ȝonder toun when hit turned were,
Þe sor of such a swete place burde synk to my hert,
508 So mony malicious mon as mourneȝ þer-inne;
In the city there are little bairns who have done no wrong.
& of þat soumme ȝet arn summe such sotteȝ for madde,
As lyttel barneȝ on barme þat neuer bale wroȝt,
& wymmen vnwytté þat wale ne couþe
for] MS. fol.
512 Þat on hande fro þat oþer for alle þis hyȝe worlde,
And there are others who cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand.
Bitwene þe stele & þe stayre disserne noȝt cunen,
What rule renes in roun bitwene þe ryȝt hande
& his lyfte, þaȝ his lyf schulde lost be þer-for;
There are also dumb beasts in the city incapable of sinning.
516 & als þer ben doumbe besteȝ in þe burȝ mony,
Þat may not synne in no syt hem seluen to greue,
Why schulde I wrath wyth hem, syþen wyȝeȝ wyl torne,
cum] Or cun.
& cum & cnawe me for kyng, & my carpe leue?
520 Wer I as hastif a[s] þou, heere were harme lumpen,
Couþe I not þole bot as þou þer þryued ful fewe;
I may not be so mal[i]cious & mylde be halden,
Judgment must be tempered with mercy.
For malyse is noȝ[t] to mayntyne boute mercy withinne;
524 Be noȝt so gryndel god man, bot go forth þy wayes.”
He that is too hasty to rend his clothes must afterwards sit with worse ones to sew them together.
Be preue & be pacient, in payne & in Ioye,
For he þat is to rakel to renden his cloþeȝ,
Mot efte sitte with more vn-sounde to sewe hem togeder.
Poverty and pain must be endured.
528 For-þy when pouerté me enpreceȝ & payneȝ in-noȝe,
Ful softly with suffraunce saȝttel me bihoueȝ,
Patience is a noble point, though it displeases oft.
For þe penaunce & payne to preue hit in syȝt,
Þat pacience is a nobel poynt, þaȝ hit displese ofte. Amen.
Notes to Patience.
All Notes were originally printed here, between Patience and the Glossarial Index. The Notes for The Pearl and Cleanness come immediately after their respective poems.
| Page 89. | l. 3 þe swelme leþe, lessen the heat. 4 qued, evil. 5 syt, sorrow; sele, happiness. 6 þro, anger. 7 þen is better to abyde þe bur vmbe-stoundes, Then is it better to abide the blow sometimes. 10 melede, related. 11 aȝt, eight. 12 sunder-lupes, severally. 13 happen, blessed. |
| P. 90. | l. 30 lyknyng, likeness; þewes, virtues. 42 lyke oþer greme, pleasing or displeasing. 47 lyȝtloker, more easily; lotes, forms. 50 what dowes me þe dedayn, what avails me anger. 53 grayþed, availed. 56 þe(t) had bowed, etc., That should have been obedient. |
| P. 91. | l. 63 Goddes glam to hym glod, God’s message came to him. 66 wythouten oþer speche, without contradiction, without more words. 67 my saȝes soghe, etc., my saws (words) sow, etc. 77 typped schrewes, great sinners; literally, extreme, tip-top, schrews. 78 ta me, take me, seize me. 82 mansed, cursed. 94 glwande, glowing, bright; gloumbes, sees (indistinctly). |
| P. 92. | l. 98 to the fare, to the voyage. 101 tramme, gear. 104 Sprude spak to þe sprete þe spare bawlyne, Spread quickly to the sprit the spar bowline (?). 106 ladde-borde, larboard. 107 blyþe breþe, gentle wind; bosum, tide. 108 He refers to breþe. 112 maȝt, might; mere, sea. 115 wenyng, supposition. 117 burde, behoved. 119 demed, uttered. 122 stapefole = stapeful = high (?) |
| P. 93. | l. 131 crafte, power. 135 tom, interval. 140 souȝed, sobbed, moaned; selly, marvel. 141 wonne, pale. 143 busched = busked, went. 144 for roȝ = for roughness. 148 bur = wave. 150 to murte, (?) to-marte, crushed, broken in pieces. 152 coge, boat. 155 scaþel, hurtful, dangerous. 156 lode = lote, lot. 160 leþe, calm, quiet. 161 lot, noise, roar. |
| P. 94. | l. 173 I lovne, I offer (this advice), propose. 183 flode lotes, the noises of the flood. 184 brede, board. 185 hurrok, oar. 191 runyschly, fiercely. 192 slaȝte, strokes. 198 lastes, crimes. |
| P. 95. | l. 208 at a worde one, at a word alone. 213 ossed, showed, proved; vnnynges, signs. 216 ruyt, rush, hasten. 227 baleleȝ, innocent. 229 synne, after. |
| P. 96. | l. 247 as wyrde þen schaped, as fate then devised. 255 malskred, entranced, bewildered. 258 warlowes, monster’s. 259 lyue = leue, believe. 262 wauleȝ = shelterless, destitute, but wanleȝ = wonleȝ = hopeless, is perhaps a better reading. 268 chawleȝ, jaws. 269 glaymande glette, slimy mud. 270 rop, gut, intestine. |
| P. 97. | l. 273 faþmeȝ, gropes. 275 saym, fat, grease. 277 le, shelter. 291 merk, darkness. 292 bulk, stern. 302 borne = burne, man. |
| P. 98. | l. 309 flem = flum, stream. 317 to my wo stoundeȝ =? until my woe over-powers (confounds) me. 320 to laste? to the last; mere, boundary. 325 þacces, blows. 329 meled, conversed. 338 spare drye dry spar (rafter) but? spare = space. 339 a warthe, a ford. 341 sluchched = sluched, dirty, muddy. 342 mester, need. |
| P. 99. | l. 345 bruxleȝ, reproaches, upbraids, 350 loke = loken, fastened. 362 dumpe, be thrust. 364 swete, life; to lose þe swete = to lose the (sweet) life. 372 doured, mourned, grieved. Cf. Sc. dour. 373 Heter hayreȝ þay hent, etc., rough hair shirts they took, etc. |
| P. 100. | l. 395 for-clemmed, very hungry, starved. 396 rurd, cry. 400 amesyng = mesyng = mese, pity, mercy. 403 wodschip, wrath. 411 on-hit, struck or inflamed (?); calleȝ, addresses. |
| P. 101. | l. 418 bene, bountiful, kind. 419 lur, loss. 426 bale-stour, death-pang; bale in the sense of death is not very common. 447 lylled, flourished. 448 lefsel = leaf-bower. See Glossary. |
| P. 102. | l. 449 boȝted, curved. 450 happed, covered. 451 a nos = a projection, opening (?) or is it a clerical error for abof = above. 452 schaȝe = wood, shaw. 453 glyȝt, glanced. 460 þe deuel? ded euel, did evil. 470 syfle, blow. 473 wyl, wandering. 478 wertes he swyþeȝ, herbs he scorches. |
| P. 103. | l. 486 wered, protected. 489 lansed, uttered. 492 waymot = angry, passionate. 502 remen, mourn, lament. 509 soumme, company. |
| P. 104. | l. 524 gryndel, angry. 526 rakel, hasty. |
| Introductory Material (main file) | ||
| The Pearl (separate file) | 1 | |
| Cleanness (separate file) | 37 | |
| Patience (separate file) | 89 | |