Purity, a Middle English poem, ed. with introduction, notes, and glossary by Robert J. Menner.

About this Item

Title

Publication

New Haven,: Yale university press; [etc., etc.]

1920.

Rights/Permissions

The University of Michigan Library provides access to these materials for educational and research purposes. These materials are in the public domain. If you have questions about the collection, please contact mec-info@umich.edu. If you have concerns about the inclusion of an item in this collection, please contact libraryit-info@umich.edu.

DPLA Rights Statement: No Copyright - United States

Cite this Item

"Purity, a Middle English poem, ed. with introduction, notes, and glossary by Robert J. Menner." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/ACS0188.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 27, 2024.

Pages

X. LOT ENTERTAINS THE TWO ANGELS

                      
                        His sondes into Sodamas watz sende in þat tyme,
                      
                        In þat ilk eventyde, by aungels tweyne,
                      
                        Mevande mekely togeder as myry men ȝonge,
                      
                        As Loot in a loge-dor lened hym alone,
                        Line 784 
                      
                        In a porche of þat place pyȝt to þe ȝates,
                      
                        Þat watz ryal and ryche—so watz þe renkes selven.
                      
                        As he stared into þe strete þer stout men played,
                      
                        He syȝe þer swey in asent swete men tweyne;
                        Line 788 
                      
                        Bolde burnez were þay boþe, wyth berdles chynnez,
                      
                        Royl rollande fax, to raw sylk lyke,
                      
                        Of ble as þe brere-flor where so þe bare schew[e]d;
                      
                        Ful clene watz þe countenaunce of her cler yȝen;
                        Line 792 
                      
                        Wlonk whit watz her wede and wel hit hem semed. [folio 72a] 
                      
                        Of alle feturez ful fyn and fautlez boþe,
                      
                        Watz non au[c]ly in ouþer, for aungels hit wern.

                      
                        And þat þe ȝep underȝede þat in þe ȝate syttez,
                        Line 796 
                      
                        He ros up ful radly and ran hem to mete,
                      
                        And loȝe he loutez hem to, Loth, to þe grounde,
                      
                        And syþen soberly: 'Syrez, I yow byseche,
                      
                        Þat ȝe wolde lyȝt at my loge and lenge þerinne;
                        Line 800 
                      
                        Comez to yor knavez kote, I crave at þis onez;

Page 32

                      
                        I schal fette yow a fatte yor fette forto wasche.
                      
                        I norne yow bot for on nyȝt neȝe me to lenge,
                      
                        And in þe myry mornyng ȝe may yor waye take.'
                        Line 804 
                      
                        And þay nay þat þay nolde neȝ no howsez,
                      
                        Bot stylly þer in þe strete as þay stadde wern,
                      
                        Þay wolde lenge þe long naȝt and logge þeroute;
                      
                        Hit watz hous innoȝė to hem þe heven upon lofte.
                        Line 808 
                      
                        Loth laþed so longe wyth luflych wordez
                      
                        Þat pay hym graunted to go, and gruȝt no lenger.
                      
                        Þe bolde to his byggyng bryngez hem bylyve,
                      
                        Þat [watz] ryally arayed, for he watz ryche ever.
                        Line 812

                      
                        Þe wyȝez wern welcom as þe wyf couþe;
                      
                        His two dere doȝterez devoutly hem haylsed,
                      
                        Þat wer maydenez ful meke, maryed not ȝet,
                      
                        And þay wer semly and swete, and swyþe wel arayed.
                        Line 816 
                      
                        Loth þenne ful lyȝtly lokez hym aboute,
                      
                        And his men amonestes mete for to dyȝt:
                      
                        'Bot þenkkez on hit be þrefte, what þynk so ȝe make,
                      
                        For wyth no sour ne no salt servez hym never.'
                        Line 820 
                      
                        Bot ȝet I wene þat þe wyf hit wroth to dyspyt,
                      
                        And sayde softely to hirself: 'Þis un[s]avere hyne
                      
                        Lovez no salt in her sauce; ȝet hit no skyl were
                      
                        Þat oþer burne be boute, þaȝ boþe be nyse.'
                        Line 824 
                      
                        Þenne ho saverez wyth salt her seuez uch one,
                      
                        Agayne þe bone of þe burne þat hit forboden hade,
                      
                        And als ho scelt hem in scorne þat wel her skyl knewen.
                      
                        Why watz ho, wrech, so wod? Ho wrathed oure Lorde.
                        Line 828 
                      
                        Þenne seten þay at þe soper, wern served bylyve, [folio 72b] 
                      
                        Þe gestes gay and ful glad, of glam debonere,
                      
                        Welawynnely wlonk tyl þay waschen hade,

Page 33

Þe trestes tylt to þe woȝe and þe table boþe. 832

                      
                        Fro þe seggez haden souped and seten bot a whyle,
                      
                        Er ever þay bosked to bedde, þe borȝ watz al up,
                      
                        Alle þat weppen myȝt welde, þe wakker and þe stronger,
                      
                        To umbelyȝe Lothez hous þe ledez to take.
                        Line 836 
                      
                        In grete flokkez of folk þay fallen to his ȝatez;
                      
                        As a scowte-wach scarred, so þe asscry rysed;
                      
                        Wyth kene clobbez of þat clos þay clatz on þe wowez,
                      
                        And wyth a schrylle scharp schout þay schewe þyse worde:
                        Line 840 
                      
                        'If þou lovyez þy lyf, Loth, in þyse wones,
                      
                        Ȝete uus out þose ȝong men þat ȝore-whyle here entred,
                      
                        Þat we may lere hym of lof, as oure lyst biddez,
                      
                        As is þe asyse of Sodomas to seggez þat passen.'
                        Line 844 
                      
                        Whatt! þay sputen and speken of so spitous fylþe,
                      
                        What! þay ȝeȝed and ȝolped of ȝestande sorȝe,
                      
                        Þat ȝet þe wynd, and þe weder, and þe worlde stynkes
                      
                        Of þe brych þat upbraydez þose broþelych wordez.
                        Line 848

                      
                        Þe god man glyfte wyth þat glam and gloped for noyse;
                      
                        So scharpe schame to hym schot, he schrank at þe hert,
                      
                        For he knew þe costoum þat kyþed þose wrechez,
                      
                        He doted never for no doel so depe in his mynde.
                        Line 852 
                      
                        'Allas!' sayd hym þenne Loth, and lyȝtly he rysez,
                      
                        And bowez forth fro þe bench into þe brode ȝates.
                      
                        What! he wonded no woþe of wekked knavez,
                      
                        Þat he ne passed þe port þe p[er]il to abide.
                        Line 856 
                      
                        He went forthe at þe wyket and waft hit hym after,
                      
                        Þat a clyket hit cleȝt clos hym byhynde.
                      
                        Þenne he meled to þo men mesurable wordez,
                      
                        For harlotez wyth his hendelayk he hoped to chast:

                        Line 860

Page 34

                      
                        Line 860 
                      
                        'Oo, my frendez so fre, yor fare is to strange;
                      
                        Dotz away yor derf dyn, and derez never my gestes.
                      
                        Avoy! hit is yor vylaynye, ȝe vylen yorselven;
                      
                        And ȝe ar jolyf gentylmen, yor japez ar ille.
                        Line 864 
                      
                        Bot I schal kenne yow by kynde a crafte þat is better: [folio 73a] 
                      
                        I haf a tresor in my telde of tow my fayre deȝter,
                      
                        Þat ar maydenez unmard for alle men ȝette,
                      
                        In Sodamas, þaȝ I hit say, non semloker burdes;
                        Line 868 
                      
                        Hit arn ronk, hit arn rype, and redy to manne;
                      
                        To samen wyth þo semly þe solace is better.
                      
                        I schal biteche yow þo two þat tayt arn and quoynt,
                      
                        And laykez wyth hem as yow lyst, and letez my gestes one.'
                        Line 872

                      
                        Þenne þe rebaudez so ronk rerd such a noyse,
                      
                        Þat aȝly hurled in his erez her harlotez speche:
                      
                        'Wost þou not wel þat þou wonez here a wyȝe strange?
                      
                        An outcomlyng, a carle, we kylle of þyn heved!
                        Line 876 
                      
                        Who joyned þe be jostyse oure japez to blame,
                      
                        Þat com a boy to þis borȝ, þaȝ þou be burne ryche?'
                      
                        Þus þay þrobled and þrong and þrwe umbe his erez,
                      
                        And distresed hym wonder strayt wyth strenkþe in þe prece,
                        Line 880 
                      
                        Bot þat þe ȝonge men, so ȝepe, ȝornen þeroute,
                      
                        Wapped upon þe wyket and wonnen hem tylle,
                      
                        And by þe hondez hym hent and horyed hym wythinne,
                      
                        And steken þe ȝates ston-harde wyth stalworth barrez.
                        Line 884 
                      
                        Þay blwe a boffet in blande þat banned peple,
                      
                        Þat þay blustered as blynde as Bayard watz ever;
                      
                        Þay lest of Lotez logging any lysoun to fynde,
                      
                        Bot nyteled þer alle þe nyȝt for noȝt at þe last.
                        Line 888 
                      
                        Þenne uch tolke tyȝt hem þat hade of tayt fayled,
                      
                        And uch on roþeled to þe rest þat he reche moȝt.
                      
                        Bot þay wern wakned al wrank þat þer in won lenged,
                      
                        Of on þe uglokest unhap þat ever on erd suffred.

                        Line 892

Notes

M.S., M. meuand, meuande.

Back to content
in place the second stroke of the p covers an extra 1.

Back to content
MS., M. scheweed.

Back to content
MS., M. autly, G. reads MS. aucly (but see note).

Back to content
M. inserts satȝ (form would probably be saytȝ) after soberly.

Back to content
MS. knaueȝ kote; M. ¹ kuchieȝ-kote (which MS. resembles because second stroke of a is high); M. ² knaues kote.

Back to content
MS. þat ryally arayed; M. inserts watz after ryally.

Back to content
MS., M. þynk; M. note þyng(?).

Back to content
MS. M., Fi. sour; M. note savour(?).

Back to content
MS., M. wroth; M. note wroȝt(?); Fi. wroȝte.

Back to content
MS. vnfavere; M. corrects to vnsavere.

Back to content
MS., M. worde; Fi. wordeȝ.

Back to content
MS. wones; M. woneȝ.

Back to content
MS., M. hym; M. note hem(?), which Fi. accepts.

Back to content
MS. pil; M. peril.

Back to content
MS. iapeȝ; M. iapes.

Back to content
MS., M. wrank; M. note wrang(?).

Back to content

Purity, a Middle English poem, ed. with introduction, notes, and glossary by Robert J. Menner.

About this Item

Pages

X. LOT ENTERTAINS THE TWO ANGELS

description Page 32

description Page 33

description Page 34

Notes

Page 32

Page 33

Page 34