Altenglische legenden.

Alexius,

a) aus Ms. Ashm. 42. (A gude tale.)

                    
                      In Rome was anes a riche mane,
                    
                      Þat hight forsothe Eufemyane;
                    
                      And his wife was calld Aglase,
                    
                      A gode wommane forsothe scho was.
                    
                      Riche þai ware of gold and fe,
                      Line 5 
                    
                      And he senatoure of þat cite;
                    
                      He had seruaundes thre thousande,
                    
                      Þat seruid him to fote and hande;
                    
                      In sendelle his menȝe he cledde
                    
                      And daynteli he þaim fedde.
                      Line 10 
                    
                      In honoure liuid Eufemyane
                    
                      And his wife, a gode womane.
                    
                      Þus þis man lange & his wife
                    
                      Wiþ ioye and blisse þai ledde þaire life.
                    
                      So gode and almous gern þai ware
                      Line 15 
                    
                      In all þaire welthe & riche fare,
                    
                      Þat in þaire hall stode aie redie
                    
                      Thre bordes spred full menskfulli:
                    
                      A borde, pilgrimes for-to fede,
                    
                      Anoþer to pouere þat had nede,
                      Line 20 
                    
                      And the thrid to faderles barnes
                    
                      Þat helpe of fadir & modir tharnes.

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                      And þis godeman him-self gon sitte,
                    
                      Als mani men duse ȝitte,
                    
                      Wiþ gode men of halikirk,
                      Line 25 
                    
                      Þat wald goddes werkes wirk,
                    
                      Þat lufid wele myldenes,
                    
                      Religioune & halines.
                    
                      His wife was almous gerne ynoghe
                    
                      And euer-more to gode thewes droghe.
                      Line 30 
                    
                      Of hali life ware þai bathe —
                    
                      Herd neuer man whare þai did scathe.
                    
                      Of werldes blisse þai had gode wane,
                    
                      Þaim wantid nathinge in erthe bot ane:
                    
                      For childe betwene þaim had þai nane;
                      Line 35 
                    
                      For-thi þaim thoȝt þaire blisse all gane,
                    
                      Sorie þai ware & euile paiede,
                    
                      And oft-sithis to god þai praied
                    
                      Þat he wald for his grete mercie
                    
                      Sende þaim som fruite of þaire bodie.
                      Line 40 
                    
                      And sone oure lorde herd þaire praiere
                    
                      & gladid tite þaire heuie chere:
                    
                      He sente betwix þaim a knaue-childe,
                    
                      Þat was bathe gode & meke & mylde.
                    
                      And when þis ilk knaue-childe was borne,
                      Line 45 
                    
                      Þai thankid god bothe euene & morne,
                    
                      And cristnid him wiþ ioye and blisse
                    
                      And namid him þare Alexis —
                    
                      In oure tonge þis ilk name schewes
                    
                      Manne full-fillid of gode thewes.
                      Line 50 
                    
                      Þis childe wex fast & wele thraue,
                    
                      For mikil grace god him gaue.
                    
                      His fadir sette him sone to boke,
                    
                      And wele clergie he vndirtoke;
                    
                      Bot þo bokis lufid he inwardlie
                      Line 55 
                    
                      Þat spak oght of god all-mightie.
                    
                      Mai i noȝt tell all his godenes,
                    
                      His wisdome ne his halines.
                    
                      Bot schortli here i will ȝow schewe
                    
                      Of his life and his gode thewe. —
                      Line 60 
                    
                      When he was commen forthe in elde,
                    
                      His fadir wiþ mensk & wiþ belde
                    
                      Gert him a faire maiden spouse,
                    
                      And broȝt hir home till his house:
                    
                      Scho was of þe emperoure kinde,
                      Line 65 
                    
                      Als we in stories writen finde;
                    
                      Meke and mylde scho was ynoȝe
                    
                      And aie to godenes scho hir droghe.
                    
                      At þair bridale was mikil fare,

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                      And riche gifftis giuen þare:
                      Line 70 
                    
                      Robes riche, siluer and golde,
                    
                      Þat es to riche men full holde;
                    
                      Þare was myrthe & gammen & gle,
                    
                      Mete & drink of wyne clarre,
                    
                      Þer was ynoghe forsothe to all
                      Line 75 
                    
                      Þat was gadird to þat hall;
                    
                      Þai gaue mikil almous for goddes sake
                    
                      To all pore þat wald it take.
                    
                      Ilkman had ioye ynoghe,
                    
                      And siþen ilkon home droghe.
                      Line 80 
                    
                      When þis bridegome suld go to bed,
                    
                      Þat richeli wiþ pall was sprede —
                    
                      Gayli was his chaumbir graithid
                    
                      Wiþ riche clothis, in flore laide:
                    
                      He graithid him on all manere
                      Line 85 
                    
                      Als he suld ligge be his fere.
                    
                      Þe wheþer he ne thoȝt it noȝt: [Þe wheder = tamen.] 
                    
                      Anoþer þinge was in his thoȝt.
                    
                      When all was oute of chaumber gane
                    
                      Saue he & his wife allane,
                      Line 90 
                    
                      He prechid hir of maidenhede
                    
                      & sithen of þat mikil mede
                    
                      Þat þai sall haue þat ȝemes here
                    
                      Þaire maidenhed on gode manere —
                    
                      Wiþouten ani priue pride,
                      Line 95 
                    
                      Þat fele wymen er wonte to hide
                    
                      In þaire hert for þaire maidenhede:
                    
                      Þat geres þaim laytheli tyne þaire mede:
                    
                      For who so duse gode dede in rose,
                    
                      He tynes all þat euere he duse. —
                      Line 100 
                    
                      When he had saide what he walde,
                    
                      His Jewellis he gaue hir for-to halde
                    
                      And sithen he gaue hir a gold ringe,
                    
                      Bitwene þaim to be takenynge:
                    
                      "To þe tyme, he saide, we first mete —
                      Line 105 
                    
                      Þare sall we speke wordes swete.
                    
                      For i will wende myne erande—
                    
                      Bot wote i neuer into what lande".
                    
                      "And ȝoure will, scho saide, it be, [And st. at?] 
                    
                      God bringe ȝow sone againe to me!"
                      Line 110 
                    
                      He toke wiþ him siluer and golde
                    
                      And riche clothis to laie in folde,
                    
                      & wente him forthe vnto þe se
                    
                      And passid oute of his contre.

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                      Sone he fand redi schippinge,
                      Line 115 
                    
                      For gold puruaied his farynge.
                    
                      Þai had god winde & forthe þai wente
                    
                      Into ferre contre, verraiment.
                    
                      And sone when he come to lande,
                    
                      Cytees & tounes faire he fande;
                      Line 120 
                    
                      Vnto a citee forsothe he ȝede
                    
                      And chaungid þare his riche wede
                    
                      Wiþ a beggar, & sithen him cledde
                    
                      In pure clethinge, & þan faste fledde —
                    
                      For he wald þat naman it wist
                      Line 125 
                    
                      Þat he wald liue in hongir & thriste.
                    
                      Seuene wintir þare woned he [st. seuene ist seuentene zu lesen; vgl. 351.] 
                    
                      In begger lyue and pouerte;
                    
                      In grete myssese he led his life,
                    
                      And gude praiers was him full rife;
                      Line 130 
                    
                      Wiþ haire and brinye his corse he cledde,
                    
                      And on þe bare erde he made his bedde,
                    
                      Brede and watir was his liue-lade;
                    
                      And he to god his praiers made
                    
                      Þat naman suld witte whate he was
                      Line 135 
                    
                      Or his sawle fra him gon passe. —
                    
                      Þan when Eufemiane his sonne miste
                    
                      And it forsothe witirli wiste,
                    
                      He grette and made full euile chere,
                    
                      And his modir als in-fere.
                      Line 140 
                    
                      Þai gerte him seke on all manere
                    
                      Full wide-whare, bothe fer and nere,
                    
                      To seke þaire dere sonne Alexis,
                    
                      To bringe him hame mawgre his.
                    
                      Þir messangeres þan wente sperand
                      Line 145 
                    
                      Fra toune to toune, fra lande to land,
                    
                      Bote fand þai nane þat couthe þaim wisse
                    
                      To þat childe, Alexis.
                    
                      Twa messangers come þare he was,
                    
                      Into a towne als þai gon passe,
                      Line 150 
                    
                      Sittand in strete ymange pore men;
                    
                      Bote nouþer of þaim couthe him ken,
                    
                      For hard penaunce & honger and nede [Ms. ford st. for.] 
                    
                      Had chaungid all his fairehede;
                    
                      Full raggid and riuen wase his clathis
                      Line 155 
                    
                      And full of vermyne, þat mani lathis,
                    
                      And þarefore couthe þai noȝt him knawe,
                    
                      Þare he wiþ beggars satte on rawe.

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                      Þai gaue almous to þaim all
                    
                      And bade, to god þat þai suld call
                      Line 160 
                    
                      Þat of þaire sekinge þai miȝt spede
                    
                      And Alexis wiþ þaim hame lede.
                    
                      Alexis in all his wa,
                    
                      When he þaim sawe before him ga,
                    
                      His awne seruaundes knewe he wele,
                      Line 165 
                    
                      Bot þai knewe him neuer a dele.
                    
                      When he of þaim almous had tane,
                    
                      Þareof he thankid god onane:
                    
                      "Lorde, he saide, i thank the,
                    
                      Þat hie sittis in trinite,
                      Line 170 
                    
                      Þat þou to daie hase giuene me grace
                    
                      Almous to take here in þis place
                    
                      Off þaim þat was wont to be
                    
                      Myne awne menne & seruid me,
                    
                      And i vnknawen vnto þaim!
                      Line 175 
                    
                      Þer-of, lorde, i am full faine". —
                    
                      Graithe ensaunpile here mai i take [l. ȝe st. i?] 
                    
                      Þis werldes welthe to forsake,
                    
                      For it behoues vs all-gate fle,
                    
                      Cristis dissipils if we will be;
                      Line 180 
                    
                      For so did saint Alexis,
                    
                      Forthi es he in heuene blisse. —
                    
                      Þir messangeres come hame againe,
                    
                      Þat made Eufemian full vnfaine
                    
                      For þai saide þat þai had ferre soȝt
                      Line 185 
                    
                      To seke Alexis, & fande him noȝt.
                    
                      So sorowfull tithand broȝte þai hame:
                    
                      His fadir sorowed, & his dame.
                    
                      His modir grette & raaue hir hare,
                    
                      And all hir bodi scho made bare
                      Line 190 
                    
                      & did apon hir a sekk clathe,
                    
                      Þat hir was wonte to be full lathe,
                    
                      And saide: "for-sothe, i sall neuer be
                    
                      Blithe, or i mi dere sonne se;
                    
                      Bot if i mi sonne hals & kisse,
                      Line 195 
                    
                      Of sorow mon i neuer misse.
                    
                      A, mi swete, dere, sonne,
                    
                      When i was sori, it was þi wonne
                    
                      Forto stand me full nere
                    
                      And to glade my dreri chere.
                      Line 200 
                    
                      How sall i liue, and þou awaie?
                    
                      I maie singe of wailewaie
                    
                      Þat euer i was of modir borne!

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                      For now es mi ioie all forlorne.
                    
                      Whiles þat þou was beside me,
                      Line 205 
                    
                      Euer-more was I in gammen & gle —
                    
                      Might i neuer sorie be,
                    
                      Apon þe when i mighte se;
                    
                      Now es mi swete sonne awaie,
                    
                      Gone es all my gammen & plaie".
                      Line 210 
                    
                      Sorowfull was his fadir ynoghe
                    
                      And sare sighes fra his herte he droghe;
                    
                      Mikil leuere him had to die
                    
                      Þan swilk sorowe lange to drie.
                    
                      And sa sare grette þat ȝonge spouse
                      Line 215 
                    
                      Þat Alexis had broghte to house,
                    
                      Þat ȝou to tell, it ware to tere, [tere difficult.] 
                    
                      All hir sorowe and hir euile chere.
                    
                      Scho saide þat scho suld neuer-mare
                    
                      Make ioye ne mirthe, bote euer care,
                      Line 220 
                    
                      "And wiþ ȝow aie for-to dwell
                    
                      Till i of mi husband here tell
                    
                      In whate land þat he es lent
                    
                      Or into whate toune he es wente.
                    
                      For clene maiden will i be,
                      Line 225 
                    
                      Till þat i him wiþ eyene se.
                    
                      For oþer man þan Alexis
                    
                      Sal i neuer hals ne kisse,
                    
                      Ne neuer-more in my liue
                    
                      Sall oþer man make me wyue".
                      Line 230 
                    
                      Þus scho sorowid daie and night,
                    
                      Boþe priuelie and in sight. —
                    
                      Torne we now to Alexis
                    
                      Þat lefft for god þis werldes blisse.
                    
                      He liuid in pouerte & in fastinge,
                      Line 235 
                    
                      In prayere and in wakinge.
                    
                      Edissa highte þat ilk cite
                    
                      Þare he liuede in pouerte.
                    
                      Be a kinges ȝate he satte
                    
                      And liued wiþ þe almous he gatte.
                      Line 240 
                    
                      A-pon a daie, als he satte þare,
                    
                      He prayed to god wiþ mylde fare
                    
                      Before ane ymage of oure ladie.
                    
                      And scho him answerde selcouthelie
                    
                      And saide: "Alexis, wele þe be!
                      Line 245 
                    
                      Þi gude praiers full wele paies me".
                    
                      Anoþer tyme aperid scho
                    
                      In þe kirk a man vnto

Page 180

                    
                      Þat bothe to þe kirk tent toke
                    
                      And to vestmentes & to boke;
                      Line 250 
                    
                      Scho bad him take in sone onane
                    
                      Þat seli pure goddes manne:
                    
                      "For his penaunce & his praiere
                    
                      To mi sonne he es full dere".
                    
                      Þan faste oute of þe kirk he ranne
                      Line 255 
                    
                      For-to seke þis goddef manne.
                    
                      Full mani pure men he sawe,
                    
                      Bote nane of þaim gon he knawe
                    
                      Of whaim oure ladi to him spak;
                    
                      Forthi he ne wiste whaim in to take.
                      Line 260 
                    
                      He come rynnand againe forthi
                    
                      And praied oure ladi inwardeli:
                    
                      "Ladi, þi seruaunde haue i soȝte,
                    
                      And, for-sothe, I knawe him noȝte:
                    
                      Þerfore, ladie, wisse þou me
                      Line 265 
                    
                      To him, ife þi will be!"
                    
                      Þan þe ymage of oure ladie
                    
                      Answerd him aperteli:
                    
                      "Be þis taken þou sall him kenne [Das Zeichen wird nicht genannt.] 
                    
                      Þare he sittis ymange pure menne".
                      Line 270 
                    
                      And he rynnes forthe & findes him riȝte,
                    
                      Als þe ymage had him highte.
                    
                      On knees he fell þan ate his fete,
                    
                      And full faire he gon him grete
                    
                      & saide: "gude man, i praie the,
                      Line 275 
                    
                      Þou come in-to þe kirk wiþ me!
                    
                      For god, þat es ofe maste pouste,
                    
                      To his seruaunde hase chosen þe".
                    
                      When Alexis herd þis sawe,
                    
                      He sighed and held his heued full lawe,
                      Line 280 
                    
                      For his godenes he wald ware hid
                    
                      And lathe him was þat ite ware kidde;
                    
                      Bote noȝte-forthi he wiþ him ȝede,
                    
                      And to þe kirk he gon him lede.
                    
                      Þe folk herd þis myracle swete:
                      Line 285 
                    
                      And knelid before Alexis fete,
                    
                      And in riche sete þai him sette
                    
                      And wiþ faire wordes þai him grette.
                    
                      Alexis of þis was noghte payed
                    
                      And to him-selfe þusgates he sayed:
                      Line 290 
                    
                      "Þou þat made all thinge iwisse,

Page 181

                    
                      Wate full wele whate mi will is:
                    
                      Neuer swilk wirschipe forto haue,
                    
                      Ofe man ne wife, maiden ne knaue.
                    
                      Faire ofe þis contre þou bringe me [Ms. faire st. fer?] 
                      Line 295 
                    
                      And send me plase of priuete!
                    
                      For is nathinge þat i hate mare
                    
                      Þan to be menskid, or wele fare".
                    
                      Sone effter on a mirk nighte
                    
                      Oute ofe þate toune he fled, for sighte,
                      Line 300 
                    
                      And come to þe toune ofe Laodise,
                    
                      Þate es gode toune ofe marchandise.
                    
                      In-to þe se he schippid þare:
                    
                      For in-to Tarsis he thoȝte to fare,
                    
                      To dwell þare in sainte Paule kirk
                      Line 305 
                    
                      In pouerte, & goddef will to wirk.
                    
                      Bote god tornid þe wind belife
                    
                      And gerte þe schippe in Rome ryue.
                    
                      And when Alexis come to land,
                    
                      His fadir he mette fra þe kirk comand.
                      Line 310 
                    
                      And faire he gon his fadir grete
                    
                      And saide to him þir wordes swete:
                    
                      "Lorde, of me þow haue mercie,
                    
                      A pure nedefull man am I;
                    
                      Þou giue me mete par charite
                      Line 315 
                    
                      Of releue þate þou leues before þe!
                    
                      And if þou lufe ani mane
                    
                      Þat in pilgrimage es gane,
                    
                      I sall praie god wiþ mode & maine
                    
                      Þat he sende him sone againe
                      Line 320 
                    
                      And þate he com hale and sounde,
                    
                      Wiþ-outen wemme, wiþ-outen wounde,
                    
                      In foreward þat þou do me gude
                    
                      And helpe me to my lyues fude".
                    
                      Full still þan stode Eufemiane,
                      Line 325 
                    
                      To lithe and listen þis pure mane;
                    
                      On Alexis, his sonne, so he thoȝte,
                    
                      Þat him nerehand to dede had broȝte,
                    
                      Þat in pilgrimage was wente,
                    
                      Bote he ne wiste whare he was lente;
                      Line 330 
                    
                      Forthi for him he sighid sare
                    
                      And wepid for sorowe & for care.
                    
                      And for he thoȝte þan of his sonne,
                    
                      He gerte his sorowe more monne,
                    
                      And he saide: "man, for mi sonne sake
                      Line 335 
                    
                      Into mi house i will þe take,
                    
                      And þare i sall þe clethe & fede
                    
                      And fynde þe all þat þe es nede".

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                      "Now god, he saide, in trinite,
                    
                      Leue sir, forȝelde ite þe!"
                      Line 340 
                    
                      Hame to his howse he him ledde,
                    
                      And in his howse made him a bedde
                    
                      In a chaumbir be him ane,
                    
                      And a keye he gon him tane,
                    
                      To come & ga ate his will;
                      Line 345 
                    
                      And bad his men his will fullfill,
                    
                      And comaunde þaim all wiþ gode mode
                    
                      To giue him his liues fode.
                    
                      Þus liuide he þare wiþ almous
                    
                      In his awne fadir howse
                      Line 350 
                    
                      Oþir wintirs seuentene,
                    
                      And suffrid paynes mani & kene;
                    
                      His penaunce chaungid all his hewe,
                    
                      So þate nane in werld him knewe.
                    
                      Þe fende to him was full wrathe
                      Line 355 
                    
                      And tysid men to do him lathe.
                    
                      For wantonne barnes of þe house,
                    
                      Þat was fedde þare wiþ almouse,
                    
                      Come to him on nightir tale
                    
                      For to do him mikil bale:
                      Line 360 
                    
                      For som him toke be þe berde,
                    
                      For to make him all ferde,
                    
                      Som keste on him dihsse-wehssinge
                    
                      And did him mani oþir hethinge,
                    
                      Som keste atte him stone & clotte,
                      Line 365 
                    
                      Som plaied wiþ him sitti-sotte.
                    
                      And all he tholid wiþ gode will,
                    
                      Goddes biddinge to full-fill,
                    
                      And praied for þaim þat did him scathe—
                    
                      For he forgaue þaim all þaire lathe,
                      Line 370 
                    
                      And praied þat god suld þaim grace sende
                    
                      Þat þai mighte þaire lif amende. —
                    
                      Tholemodenes here maie ȝe lere
                    
                      Þate gladli will þis tale here;
                    
                      Here maie ȝe se þat tholemodenes
                      Line 375 
                    
                      To cristen man so gode thinge es, [Ms. men st. man.] 
                    
                      Þat wrange ne woghe ne werldes scathe
                    
                      Maie do atte him ne make him wrathe;
                    
                      For ite is rute ofe all gudenes,
                    
                      Faire speche and mekenes. —
                      Line 380 
                    
                      Sone effter god sente his sande
                    
                      To Alexis, gude tithande,
                    
                      And bad þate he suld make him ȝare

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                      Oute of þis werld forto fare.
                    
                      He thankid god full inwardli
                      Line 385 
                    
                      Of his grace and his mercie;
                    
                      Þan he callid to him his knaue
                    
                      And bad þate he suld ger him haue
                    
                      Parchemyne and inke bathe:
                    
                      And he ite broȝt to him full rathe.
                      Line 390 
                    
                      Þan his life all þare wrate he,
                    
                      Þat, when he ware dede, þai mighte se,
                    
                      Whase sonne he was, & whate he highte;
                    
                      And all his life he wrate full riȝte:
                    
                      How he had liued in beggarhede
                      Line 395 
                    
                      In mikil missese and in nede
                    
                      Euenli foure & thritti ȝere,
                    
                      In mikil pouerte, in stedes sere,
                    
                      And how he fra his wife wente
                    
                      And in whate toune he was lente,
                      Line 400 
                    
                      And how he gaue his gold ringe
                    
                      To his wife atte his partinge
                    
                      And saide ite suld be takeninge
                    
                      Betwene þaim atte þaire firste metinge.
                    
                      When he had made all þis writte,
                      Line 405 
                    
                      Faste in his hand he loukid ite,
                    
                      And laide him doune on his bedde:
                    
                      Wiþ harde sekenes was he stedde.
                    
                      Þan god of heuene schewid sone
                    
                      Þe mikil gode þate he had done.
                      Line 410 
                    
                      For on þe palme-sonondaie,
                    
                      When folk in kirk began to praie,
                    
                      A voyse was in þe mynstir herde —
                    
                      Þat made all þe folk full ferde;
                    
                      Þe voice saide: "comes all to me
                      Line 415 
                    
                      Þat suffirs pyne and pouerte!
                    
                      And i sall lethe wiþ-outen faile
                    
                      Ȝoure lange tene & ȝoure trauaile
                    
                      And bringe ȝow to heuene blisse,
                    
                      Þer no pyne ne trauaile is".
                      Line 420 
                    
                      Þe folk on knees fell in thrange
                    
                      And kyrieleyson thries þai sange.
                    
                      Þe voise effte-sones spak in hye
                    
                      And bad þaim seke wightlie
                    
                      Goddes seruaunde "þat es full meke,
                      Line 425 
                    
                      For in þis citee lyes he seke".
                    
                      Þe folk wiste neuer whate ite mente,
                    
                      Ne ofe whaim þai had na tente.

Page 184

                    
                      Neuer þe latter þai him soghte,
                    
                      Bote Alexis þai fande noȝte,
                      Line 430 
                    
                      Als þe voise to þaim þis talde. [Der Vers scheint fehlerhaft.] 
                    
                      His gaste to god Alexis ȝalde:
                    
                      On þe godefridaie atte morne
                    
                      Full godirhaile was he borne.
                    
                      Þe pape of Rome & his clergie
                      Line 435 
                    
                      Þat daie wente to þe kirk arelie,
                    
                      Goddes seruis þare for to saie
                    
                      And to Jesu for to praie;
                    
                      And so did twa emperours,
                    
                      And lawde folk, to here þaire houres.
                      Line 440 
                    
                      & all þai thoȝte apon þate steuene
                    
                      Þat god had sente þaim fra heuene.
                    
                      Þe pape gerte þaim praie all than
                    
                      Þat god suld sende þaim þat man
                    
                      Of whaim þe voise fro heuene had spokene,
                      Line 445 
                    
                      Whare and in whate plase þat he was lokene.
                    
                      Þe folk did his comaundmente
                    
                      And praied god wiþ gode entente,
                    
                      Þai saide: "lorde full of mercie,
                    
                      On þe we call, on þe we crie,
                      Line 450 
                    
                      Þou swete lorde, now vs wisse
                    
                      In whate stede þi seruaund is,
                    
                      Þat we thorghe him mai loue þe
                    
                      When we his swete bodi se!"
                    
                      Þan sone þai herde a voise saie
                      Line 455 
                    
                      Þat in Eufemiane house he laie,
                    
                      "Loke þare, & ȝe sall find redie
                    
                      Þe hali bodie of Alexi".
                    
                      Þe folk þan full faine was ofe þis
                    
                      When þai herd of Alexis —
                      Line 460 
                    
                      For him was mikil wa in Rome
                    
                      For þai ne wiste whare he become.
                    
                      Þe pape ofe Rome & his clergie
                    
                      Thoȝte of þis full grete ferlie,
                    
                      Þai askid sone Eufemyane
                      Line 465 
                    
                      Whi he helid goddes mane.
                    
                      He answerd þaim & saide þaim: "naie,
                    
                      I knawe o nane, be mi laie!"
                    
                      Þe pape made processioune
                    
                      Of lerid and lawde þorghe þe toune,
                      Line 470 
                    
                      And wente to Eufemyane palaise,

Page 185

                    
                      For sothe, als þe boke vs saise,
                    
                      Þat hali bodie for-to seke
                    
                      Þat goddes voice ofe gon speke.
                    
                      Eufemiane spirid ate his menȝe,
                      Line 475 
                    
                      In his house if ani mighte be
                    
                      Þate was so wele wiþ Jesue
                    
                      Als þe voise saide, of vertue.
                    
                      And þai answerde & saide, naie,
                    
                      Þat no swilk man knewe þai,
                      Line 480 
                    
                      Nouþer comand ne gangand
                    
                      Ne in his palaise wonande.
                    
                      As Eufemiane stode þus spereand,
                    
                      So come þat ilk knaue rynnand
                    
                      Þat had seruid Alexis,
                      Line 485 
                    
                      Þat þan was wente to heuene blisse.
                    
                      "Sir, he saide, ite mai wele be
                    
                      Þat þat ilk man es he
                    
                      To ȝeme þat ȝe betaghte to me,
                    
                      Þat ȝe gaue mete par charite.
                      Line 490 
                    
                      I haue him sene grete penaunce do
                    
                      And lede his life in mikil vnro:
                    
                      I trowe forsothe þat ite is he,
                    
                      For he was hali, als think me.
                    
                      Full lange hase he sekenes dried
                      Line 495 
                    
                      And to daie ate morne he died".
                    
                      When Eufemiane herd þis tithand,
                    
                      Na langere mighte he þare still stand
                    
                      Bote als a man þat ware wode
                    
                      To Alexis bedde he ȝode,
                      Line 500 
                    
                      And saide: "þou man, par charite,
                    
                      Of þi grase þou tell me —
                    
                      For i hald me noȝte worthi
                    
                      For to touche þi hali bodie —
                    
                      Noȝte-forþi i praie to the
                      Line 505 
                    
                      Þat þou þi gudenes schewe to me:
                    
                      Saie me, for þe lufe of sainte Jame,
                    
                      Wheyne þou come, whate es thi name?"
                    
                      Þus he callid wondir offte
                    
                      Bothe wiþ hye wordis (and) sofft. [and fehlt im Ms.] 
                      Line 510 
                    
                      Bote worde ofe him mighte he (gete) nane, [gete fehlt im Ms.] 
                    
                      For he was dede als a stane.
                    
                      & Eufemiane wele thoȝt
                    
                      Þat Alexis answere wald noȝte:
                    
                      Þan ner he come & did awaie
                      Line 515 
                    
                      Þe pure clathis þate on him laie,

Page 186

                    
                      And Alexis þare he fande
                    
                      Still, callde, dede liggande.
                    
                      And swilk a smell als he þare smellid
                    
                      Neuer nane before he fellid —
                      Line 520 
                    
                      For all þe spice þate es in Spaine,
                    
                      And all þe floures in grete Almaine
                    
                      Gaue neuer sauoure halfe so swete
                    
                      Als was ofe him, fra toppe to fete.
                    
                      In haire and brinie was he cledde,
                      Line 525 
                    
                      Ofe smale stanes was his bedde,
                    
                      Vndir his heuede laie a stane —
                    
                      Soffter þinge þan was þare nane.
                    
                      In his hand was a boke,
                    
                      Bote whate ite was, mighte na-man loke.
                      Line 530 
                    
                      Þan ȝode Eufemiane in hye
                    
                      Vnto þe pape & his clergie
                    
                      And talde þe pape als he fand,
                    
                      And of þe boke in his hand.
                    
                      When þe pape herd þis ferlie,
                      Line 535 
                    
                      Wiþ him he toke all his clergie,
                    
                      And come full sone to þate bodie
                    
                      And stode and askid ite mercie:
                    
                      "Lorde, he saide, þou schew me
                    
                      Þe mikil vertue þat es in þe,
                      Line 540 
                    
                      Þat we mai loue god ofe heuene
                    
                      Þat wissid vs to þe þorghe his steuene
                    
                      And schewe vs here þis ilk lettire,
                    
                      Þat we maie all be þe better
                    
                      And to knawe þi halines
                      Line 545 
                    
                      And þe vertue þate in þe es".
                    
                      When he had made his orisoune,
                    
                      Wiþ drede ofe herte he stoupid doune:
                    
                      And toke þe lettire oute of his hande,
                    
                      & grete ferlie þare-in he fande.
                      Line 550 
                    
                      He gaue ite a clerke, þat stode him nere,
                    
                      And bad him rede, þate all miȝt here.
                    
                      Þe clerk began ite for-to rede,
                    
                      And Eufemiane began to wede
                    
                      When he þate lettir vndirstode;
                      Line 555 
                    
                      For sorow all-moste he wex wode,
                    
                      For he beganne to grete & crie
                    
                      & fell apon þate dede bodie.
                    
                      Þe mikil sorow & þe care
                    
                      Þat Eufemiane makid þare
                      Line 560 
                    
                      May naman tell be þe haluendele,

Page 187

                    
                      Thofe his tonge ware made ofe stele.
                    
                      When Aglaes, his wife, herde þis
                    
                      Þat he was hir sonne Alexis
                    
                      Þat in bed dede laie þare,
                      Line 565 
                    
                      Scho beganne to roupe & rare,
                    
                      And ofe hir heued scho drewe þe hare,
                    
                      For had scho neuer so mikil care.
                    
                      His wife kome þan wiþ sorowfull late,
                    
                      Wiþ goulinge, & wiþ rewfull grate,
                      Line 570 
                    
                      Als scho wald all to watir writhe —
                    
                      So was scho sarie & vnblithe.
                    
                      Will i of þis na langer spelle,
                    
                      Bote forthe oure storie wil i tell.
                    
                      When þis folk sawe þis ferlie,
                      Line 575 
                    
                      Þai loued god all-mightie.
                    
                      And þe pape and his clergie
                    
                      To þe cors ȝede full dereworthelie [Ms. pape st. cors.] 
                    
                      And wande ite in full riche folde,
                    
                      Þat brighte schane als duse þe golde.
                      Line 580 
                    
                      To þe kirk þai wald him bere;
                    
                      Bote mighte naman þe corse stere
                    
                      For prees of man þate was so strange, [Ms. man st. men.] 
                    
                      Þat nane mighte stere for mikil thrange:
                    
                      For seke men þat had vnhele
                      Line 585 
                    
                      And dombe men þat miȝte noȝte mele,
                    
                      Deefe men þat miȝte noȝte here
                    
                      And halte men þat miȝte noȝte stere,
                    
                      Blind men þat wantid sight,
                    
                      Mesele men þat had no mighte:
                      Line 590 
                    
                      All ware þai made hale & fere,
                    
                      Als swithe als þai neghid þe bere
                    
                      Þare sainte Alexe corse was loken,
                    
                      For whaim þe steuen before had spoken.
                    
                      For-thi was þare swilk prees & thrange,
                      Line 595 
                    
                      Þat nane mighte gete gate to gange.
                    
                      Þe wise men of Rome þe whiles
                    
                      Vmbe-thoȝte þaim ofe wyles,
                    
                      How þai mighte breke þate grete thrange,
                    
                      To gete þaim gate for to gange:
                      Line 600 
                    
                      Þai strewid penyes in þe strete
                    
                      To ger þe pure luke to þaire fete;
                    
                      Þe riche gatte þaim gate before,
                    
                      Þe whilis þai gadird penyes þore.
                    
                      Bote for all þis vnneþes mighte þai
                      Line 605 
                    
                      Wynne to þe kirk þat ilk daie.

Page 188

                    
                      Þe kirk es ofe sainte Bonifase
                    
                      Whare þai layde goddes grase.
                    
                      Seuene daies þan woke þai þare,
                    
                      Wiþ mikil welthe & mikil fare,
                      Line 610 
                    
                      And wroȝt þare a riche schrine
                    
                      And laide Alexis corse þare-ine.
                    
                      Whare euermare, till þis werld standes,
                    
                      Er all sekemen lousid of bandes;
                    
                      Þare wirkis god for Alexis,
                      Line 615 
                    
                      For to him full dere he is.
                    
                      Oure lorde bringe vs to þat blisse
                    
                      And late vs neuer of þat ioye misse,
                    
                      Þare sainte Alexis for his mekenes
                    
                      Full nere god in heuene es.
                      Line 620 
                    
                      Oure lorde, Jhesu Criste, vs spede
                    
                      To do penaunce, & þidir vs lede. Amen.

                      Now haue i broȝte þis tale till ende,
                    
                      I rede þate we oure life amende
                    
                      And praie god þat he vs mekenes send
                      Line 625 
                    
                      And vs fra pride ofe hertte defende.
                    
                      For all þis lange tale i haue talde
                    
                      To ger ȝow in ȝoure hertes halde
                    
                      Þe mekenes of sainte Alexis,
                    
                      To ger ȝow se whate meknes is.
                      Line 630 
                    
                      For mekenes es þe beste thewe
                    
                      Þat ani man in dede maie schewe.
                    
                      For þis mekenes, ofe whilk i mene,
                    
                      Gerte Marie be modir and qwene:
                    
                      Goddes modir, & qwene of heuene;
                      Line 635 
                    
                      Forthi full blissefull es scho to neuene,
                    
                      Als scho hir-selfe saise in a sange.
                    
                      Full wele es þaim hir lufe mai fange
                    
                      And in mekenes folowe hir trace.
                    
                      For god giues meke men his grace
                      Line 640 
                    
                      And geris þaim come to þat blisse
                    
                      Þat to all mekemen graithid is.
                    
                      Oure lorde of heuene þidir vs bringe,
                    
                      Þare euer es ioye wiþ-outen gretinge,
                    
                      And leue vs so oure liue to lede
                      Line 645 
                    
                      Þat we mai all haue heuene to mede!
                    Amen.

Page 174

b) aus Ms. Gg. V, 31.

                    
                      In Rome was ones a ryche mane,
                    
                      Hys name was haten Eufemyan;
                    
                      Hys wyf was called Aglas,
                    
                      Þat a gud woman was.
                    
                      Riche þai war of gold and fe,
                      Line 5 
                    
                      And he was senetour of þat cete.
                    
                      He had seruandys thre thousand
                    
                      Þat serued hym in þat land.
                    
                      Þai war in sylk & sendell clede;
                    
                      In mekell onour þaire lyf þai lede.
                      Line 10 
                    
                      So gude and almus gerne þai war
                    
                      In all þaire welth and ryche fare,
                    
                      Þat in þaire hall stode ay redy
                    
                      Thre bordys sperde menskfully:
                    
                      On to pylgrymes for to fede,
                      Line 15 
                    
                      An-oþer to pouer þat had nede,
                    
                      Þe thredde tyll faderles barnes
                    
                      Þat helpe of fader & moder tharnes;

Page 175

                    
                      Þai war almus-gern ynoghe
                    
                      And ay tyll gud þewes drowhe.
                      Line 20 
                    
                      Of werldes gud had þai gud wane,
                    
                      Bot chylde bytwen þaim had þai nane.
                    
                      Þai prayd god of hys mercy
                    
                      To send þaim chyld of þaire body.
                    
                      God sent þam sone a knaf-chyld,
                      Line 25 
                    
                      Þat was to god meke and mylde.
                    
                      Þai crysten hym wiþ ioy and blys
                    
                      And named hym Alixis.
                    
                      Þis chyld wex and wel thraf,
                    
                      And mekyll grace god hym gaf.
                      Line 30 
                    
                      Hys fader sett hym sone to boke,
                    
                      And wel to clergy he toke,
                    
                      And euer he lofed inwardly
                    
                      Bokes þat spak of god almyghty. —
                    
                      Efter, when he come tyll elde,
                      Line 35 
                    
                      Wiþ mekell mensk and wiþ belde,
                    
                      Hys fader hym gert a wyf spous
                    
                      And broght hyr home vntill hys hous:
                    
                      Sho was of þe Emperour kynde,
                    
                      Als we may in story wreten fynd;
                      Line 40 
                    
                      Meke and mylde scho was ynowhe
                    
                      And ay tyll thewes gude drowhe.
                    
                      At þaire brydale was mekyll fare,

Page 176

                    
                      And rych gyftes gyfen thare;
                    
                      Þare was myrth maken(!) and gle, [myrth a. R. nebengeschr.] 
                      Line 45 
                    
                      Of all ryches grete plente,
                    
                      Þare was almus and ioye ynoghe,
                    
                      And sythen ilk man home drowhe.
                    
                      When þis bryd-gome suld go to bed,
                    
                      Þat rychely wiþ pal was spred —
                      Line 50 
                    
                      Gladly was þe chambre graythett
                    
                      Wiþ ryche cleþes, in flor layd:
                    
                      He graythed hym on all manere
                    
                      Als he suld lyg by hys fere.
                    
                      Þo wheder he ne wald noght: [þo st. þe.] 
                      Line 55 
                    
                      Ane oþer thyng was in hys thoght.
                    
                      When all ware owt of chaumer gane [Ms. chāmer.] 
                    
                      Saf he and hys wyf al-ane,
                    
                      He preched hyr of mayden-hede
                    
                      And als-so of þat mekel mede
                      Line 60 
                    
                      Þat þai sall haue þat ȝemes here
                    
                      Þaire maydenhed on gud manere —
                    
                      Wiþ-owt any pryue pryde [Ms. pryue pryue.] 
                    
                      Þat many women wyll kyde
                    
                      In þaire hert for þaire maydenhede:
                      Line 65 
                    
                      Þat gerrs þam lathly tyne þaire mede:
                    
                      For who so dos gud dede in ros,
                    
                      He tines all þat euer he dos. —
                    
                      When he had sayd þus what he walde,
                    
                      Hys Jeweles he gaf hyr tyll halde
                      Line 70 
                    
                      And sythen he gaf hyr a rynge,
                    
                      Bytwene þaim to be toknynge.
                    
                      He sayd: "wyf, I wyll my erand(!),
                    
                      Bot I wate neuer in-tyll what land".
                    
                      Scho sayd: "syr, at ȝour wyll yt be.
                      Line 75 
                    
                      God bryng ȝow sone agayne to me!"
                    
                      He toke wiþ hym gold plente
                    
                      And went hym forth full priuele.

Page 177

                    
                      God puruayd wele hys farynge:
                    
                      And sone he fand redy schyppynge.
                      Line 80 
                    
                      Þai had gud wynd and forth þai went,
                    
                      Tyll far contre was þaire entent.
                    
                      And when he come þare on lande,
                    
                      Cetes and toūnes full fayr he fande.
                    
                      In-tyll a cete sone he ȝede
                      Line 85 
                    
                      And changed all hys rich wed
                    
                      Wiþ a begger, and sythen hym clede
                    
                      In begger wede, and fast he flede —
                    
                      For he wa(l)d þat noman wyste
                    
                      Þat he wald lyf in honger & thryste.
                      Line 90 
                    
                      Seuynten wynter þare woned he
                    
                      In begger lyf and pouerte;
                    
                      In grete myschef he led hys lyfe,
                    
                      And gude bedys were hym full ryfe;
                    
                      Wiþ hayre and breny he hym cled,
                      Line 95 
                    
                      And on þe bare erthe he made hys bede,
                    
                      Brede and water was hys lyflade,
                    
                      And tyll god hys prayers made
                    
                      Þat non sall wit what he was [Ms. wt = wit.] 
                    
                      By-fore þe soule fro hym suld passe. —
                      Line 100 
                    
                      And when hys fader hys sonne myste,
                    
                      Þat he was gone wytterly wyste,
                    
                      He gret and made full yuell chere,
                    
                      And hys wyf als sore in-fere.
                    
                      Þai gert hym seke fer and nere
                      Line 105 
                    
                      Full wyde-ware, on all manere,
                    
                      To seke þaire sone Alixis
                    
                      And brying hym home maugre hys.
                    
                      Þis messangers went spyand
                    
                      Fro toune to toun, fro lande to lande,
                      Line 110 
                    
                      Bot fande þai nane þat couth þaim wyse
                    
                      Vntyll þaire maister Alixis.
                    
                      Two messangers come þare he was,
                    
                      In a toun als þai gan pas,
                    
                      Syttand omang pouere men;
                      Line 115 
                    
                      Bot couth þai no-gates hym ken:
                    
                      For hard penance and hunger and nede
                    
                      Was changed al hys fayred;
                    
                      Full ragged and reuen was hys clathes,
                    
                      And full of vermen, þat many lathes:
                      Line 120 
                    
                      For-thy couth þai noght hym knawe,
                    
                      Þare he wiþ beggers sate on rawe.

Page 178

                    
                      Þai gaf almus to þam al
                    
                      And bad, til god þat þai suld cal
                    
                      Þat þai suld fare wele in þaire nede
                      Line 125 
                    
                      And of þaire erand þai suld wele spede.
                    
                      Alixis knewe þaim full wele,
                    
                      Bot þai knew him neuer a dele.
                    
                      "Lorde, he sayd, I thank the,
                    
                      Þare þou sittes in thy trinite,
                      Line 130 
                    
                      Þat þow þis day has gyfen me grace
                    
                      Amus to take in þis place [Ms. amus st. almus.] 
                    
                      Of þam þat wont war to be
                    
                      Myn owen men and serued me."
                    
                      Þire mensangers come home agayne,
                      Line 135 
                    
                      Þat made Eufemyam vn-fayn
                    
                      For þai say: "ser, we haf fer soghte
                    
                      To seke Alixis, bot we herd noghte."
                    
                      Hys fader Eufemiane was ful wa,
                    
                      And so was hys moder al-swa.

                      Line 140

Page 179

                    
                      Line 140 
                    
                      Hys wyf sayd: scho suld neuer mare
                    
                      Make ioye, bot euer care,
                    
                      And wiþ Eufemyane dwell
                    
                      Tyll scho herd of hyr husband spell:
                    
                      "For oþere man þen Alixis
                      Line 145 
                    
                      Sal I neuer hals ne kys,
                    
                      For neuer-more in my lyue
                    
                      Sal oþere man mak me wyfe." —
                    
                      Turne we now tyl Alixis
                    
                      Þat left for god þis werldys blys.
                      Line 150 
                    
                      He lyfed in herd fastynge,
                    
                      In prayers and in wakynge.
                    
                      Edissa hyght þat ilk cete
                    
                      Þare he leued in pouerte.
                    
                      At a kynges ȝate he sate
                      Line 155 
                    
                      And lyued wiþ almus þat he gate.
                    
                      Apon a day, als he sate þare,
                    
                      Prayd he god wiþ myld fare
                    
                      Byfore an ymage of oure lady.
                    
                      Þe ymage answerd selcouthly:
                      Line 160 
                    
                      "Well, Alixis, moght þou be!
                    
                      Þi gude prayers payes me."
                    
                      And ane oþer tyme scho apered than
                    
                      In þe kyrk tyl an old man. [Nach 164 fehlen deutlich einige Verse.] 
                    
                      . . . . .
                    
                      Line 165

Page 180

                    
                      Many pouere men he saw,
                      Line 165 
                    
                      Bot nan of þam couth he knawe. [Ms. man st. nan.] 
                    
                      He come rymand(!) in for-thy [Ms. rymand, wie 351.] 
                    
                      And prayed oure lady inwardly,
                    
                      He sayd: "lady, wys þow me
                    
                      Tyll hym, yf þi wyll be!"
                      Line 170 
                    
                      Þe ymage sayd: "þow sall hym ken"
                    
                      And told hym a taken þen.
                    
                      And he þan forth, and tald ryght [Ms. þan st. ran?] 
                    
                      Als þe ymage had hym hyght.
                    
                      On knes he fell at hys fete
                      Line 175 
                    
                      And full sore bygan to grete
                    
                      And sayd: "syr, I pray the,
                    
                      Þow come in-tyll þe kyrk wiþ me!
                    
                      For god, þat ys of moste pouste,
                    
                      Tyll hys seruand has chosen þe."
                      Line 180 
                    
                      When Alixis herd þis sawe,
                    
                      He sighed and helde hys heued lawe,
                    
                      For hys gudnes he wald war hyd
                    
                      And lathe hym war yt war kyd. [Ms. war st. was.] 
                    
                      And for-þi wiþ hym he ȝede, [Ms. And st. Noȝt.] 
                      Line 185 
                    
                      And tyll þe kyrk he gan hym lede.
                    
                      Þe folk herd of hys wordys swete [Ms. hys st. Þis.] 
                    
                      And fell by-for Alixis fete,
                    
                      In rych cete þai hym sett
                    
                      And wiþ fayr wordys hym gret.
                      Line 190 
                    
                      Alixis þare-of was ill payd
                    
                      And tyll hym-self þus he sayd:
                    
                      "Þou þat made all thyng Iwys,

Page 181

                    
                      Þow wayte wele what my wyl ys:
                    
                      Neuer worschyppe for-tyll haue,
                      Line 195 
                    
                      Of man ne wyf, mayden ne knawe.
                    
                      Owt of þis contre, lorde, bryng me
                    
                      And send me grace of priuete!
                    
                      Þare ys no-thyng þat I hate mare
                    
                      Þan to be mensked, or well fare."
                      Line 200 
                    
                      Sone apon a merke nyghte
                    
                      Owt of þat toune he fled, for syghte,
                    
                      And come to þe cete of Leddys,
                    
                      A nobil toun of marchandys.
                    
                      In-to þe se he schyppyd thare:
                      Line 205 
                    
                      For in-tyll Aces he toght to fare,
                    
                      To dwelle in saynt Powell kyrk
                    
                      In pouert, goddys wyll to wyrk.
                    
                      Bot god turned þe wynd by-lyue
                    
                      And in Rome made þaim to ryue.
                      Line 210 
                    
                      And when Alixis come to land,
                    
                      Hys fader he mete to(!) kyrk comand.
                    
                      And fayr he gan hys fader grete
                    
                      And sayd tyll hym wiþ wordys swete:
                    
                      "Lord, of me þou haf mercy,
                      Line 215 
                    
                      A pouer nedfull man am I;
                    
                      Þou gyf me mete pur charite
                    
                      Of relyf þat leues byfor þe!
                    
                      For if þou lofed euer any-ane
                    
                      Þat in pylgrimage ys gane,
                      Line 220 
                    
                      And(!) I sall pray wiþ myght & mayn [And ist zu tilgen.] 
                    
                      Þat god sal send hym þe agayne,
                    
                      In forward þat þou do me gude
                    
                      And helpe me tyll my lyues fode."
                    
                      Styll stode Eufemyan,
                      Line 225 
                    
                      To lythe and lyste þe pouer man;
                    
                      On Alixis, hys son, he thoghte,
                    
                      Þat hym nere-hand to ded had broghte.
                    
                      For-þi bygan he to wepe sare
                    
                      And wyped hys eȝen wiþ mekel care.
                      Line 230 
                    
                      He sayd: "man, for my son sake
                    
                      In-to my hows I wyll þe take
                    
                      And euer-more þe clethe and fede
                    
                      And fynd þe all þat þe ys nede."

Page 182

                    
                      "Now god, þat ys in trinite,
                      Line 235 
                    
                      Syr, he sayd, forȝelde yt the!"
                    
                      Home wiþ hym he hym lede,
                    
                      And in hys hows made hym a bede
                    
                      In a chambyr by hym ane,
                    
                      Þar-tyll a kaye he gan hym tane,
                      Line 240 
                    
                      To come and gang at hys wyll;
                    
                      And bad hys men hys wyll fulfyll,
                    
                      And comande þam wiþ gude mode
                    
                      Þai suld hym serue of lyfes fode.
                    
                      Þus leued he þare wiþ almus
                      Line 245 
                    
                      In his owen fader hous
                    
                      Oþer wynters seuentene,
                    
                      And sufferd paynes many and kene;
                    
                      Hys penance changed all hys hewe,
                    
                      So þat none in werld hym knewe.
                      Line 250 
                    
                      Þe fend tyll hym was full wrath
                    
                      And tyced men to do hym skath.
                    
                      For wanton barnes of þe hous,
                    
                      Þat þar war fed wiþ almus,
                    
                      Come tyll hym by nyghter tale
                    
                      For to skorne and do hym bale:
                      Line 255 
                    
                      Some wald pul hym by þe berde,
                    
                      For to make hym for þam aferde,
                    
                      Þai kest on hym disch-waschyngs
                    
                      And dyd hym many oþer thyngs,
                    
                      Some kest at hym stone and clotte,
                      Line 260 
                    
                      Some playd wiþ hym sitt-fotte(!). [Ms. sitt fotte; Ms. Ashm. hat die richtige Lesart.] 
                    
                      And all tholed he wiþ glad wyll,
                    
                      Goddys wyll & byddyng to fulfyll;
                    
                      He forgaf þaim all þaire lathe
                    
                      And prayd for þaim þat dyd hym skathe. —
                      Line 265 
                    
                      Tholmodnes here may ȝe lere,
                    
                      Þat lykes þis tale forto here;
                    
                      For þat ys rote of all gudnes,
                    
                      Fayr speche and meknes. —
                    
                      Sone þar-efter sente god a sande
                      Line 270 
                    
                      Þat broght Alixis gud tyth(a)nde:
                    
                      A angell bad hym make hym ȝare,

Page 183

                    
                      Owt of þis werld suld he fare.
                    
                      He thanked god þan inwardly
                    
                      Of hys grace and hys mercy;
                      Line 275 
                    
                      Þan he called tyll hym hys knawe
                    
                      And sayd: "lef sone, þow ger me haue
                    
                      Parchamyn an ynk bath!"
                    
                      And he broght tyll hym rath.
                    
                      Þan all hys lyf þare wrate he,
                      Line 280 
                    
                      When he war ded, at þai myght se,
                    
                      Whas sone he was, and what he hyght;
                    
                      And all hys lyf he wrate ryght:
                    
                      In grete pouert in stedys sere
                    
                      Had he leued foure and thretty ȝere,
                      Line 285 
                    
                      And how he fro hys wyf went
                    
                      And all þe stede he in lente,
                    
                      And how he gaf hys gold ryng
                    
                      Tyll hys wyf at hys partyng.
                    
                      When he had made all þis wrytt,
                      Line 290 
                    
                      Fast in hys hand he lowked yt.
                    
                      Wiþ hard seknes þan was he stede
                    
                      And layd hym doun apon hys bed.
                    
                      And euen on palme-sononday,
                    
                      When folk in kyrk bygan to pray:
                      Line 295 
                    
                      A voyce was in þe mynster herde
                    
                      Þat made all þe folk full ferde:
                    
                      Þe voyce sayd: "come al to me
                    
                      Þat suffers payne and pouerte!
                    
                      For I sall qwyte wiþ-owt fayle
                      Line 300 
                    
                      Ȝoure lang tene and ȝour trayuayll."
                    
                      Þe fell of knes(!) fell full thrang, [Ms. Þe fell of knes st. þe folk on knes.] 
                    
                      And clerkys kyrieleyson sang.
                    
                      Þe voys þan spak eft-sones wiþ cry
                    
                      And bad þam seke wytterly
                      Line 305 
                    
                      Goddys seruand "þat ys full meke,
                    
                      For in þis cete lygges he seke."

Page 184

                    
                      Þe folk ran fast abowte and soght,
                    
                      Bot Alixis fand þai noght.
                    
                      Full gud and haly was he born: [gud and haly aus goddirhaile (to goder haile) verdorben.] 
                      Line 310 
                    
                      He dyed on gud-fryday at morn.
                    
                      Þe pape of Rome and clergy
                    
                      Þat day went to þe kyrke arely,
                    
                      And so dyd two Emperoures,
                    
                      And lered folk, tyll here þaire oures.
                      Line 315 
                    
                      Þai thoght wele a-pon þat steuen
                    
                      Þat þai on palme-sononday herd euen.
                    
                      Þe pape gert þam pray all þan
                    
                      Þat god suld send þam þat man
                    
                      Of wham þe voys of heuen had spokyn,
                      Line 320 
                    
                      And in what place þat he war lokyn.
                    
                      Þe folk dyd hys comandment
                    
                      And prayd god wiþ gud entent.
                    
                      And als þe folk hertly gan pray,
                    
                      Son þai herd a voys say:
                      Line 325 
                    
                      "In Eufemyan hous he lyes,
                    
                      Þe haly body of Alixis."
                    
                      Þe folk full fayne war of þis
                    
                      When þai herd of Alixis —
                    
                      For hym þai war wa in Rome
                      Line 330 
                    
                      For thay ne wyst wyder he bycome.
                    
                      Þe pape þen asked Eufemyan
                    
                      Why he layned goddys man.
                    
                      He answerd and sayd nay
                    
                      He knew hym, by hys fay. [im Ms. fehlt noght.] 
                      Line 335 
                    
                      Þe pape ȝede wiþ procession
                    
                      Of lerd and lewed ryght þorow þe toun
                    
                      And went tyll Eufemyan palays,

Page 185

                    
                      Als þe boke for-soth vs says,
                    
                      Þat holy body for-to seke
                      Line 340 
                    
                      Þat þe voys befor of speke.
                    
                      Eufemyan spered at hys meyne,
                    
                      In hys hous if any myght be
                    
                      Þat was so wele wiþ Jhesu
                    
                      Als þe voys sayd, of vertu.
                      Line 345 
                    
                      And þai answerd and sayd nay,
                    
                      Þat non swylk knew þai,
                    
                      Nowther comand ne gangand
                    
                      Nor in hys palays non wonnand.
                    
                      Als Eufemyan stod sperand,
                      Line 350 
                    
                      So come þat ilke knaw rymand [Ms. rymand.] 
                    
                      Þat serued Alixis,
                    
                      Þat than was went tyll heuen blys.
                    
                      "Syr, he sayd, þat may wele be
                    
                      Þat þis ilk man ys he
                      Line 355 
                    
                      To ȝeme þat ȝe bytaght me,
                    
                      Þat ȝe gaf mete par charyte.
                    
                      I haf hym sene grete penance (do) [do fehlt.] 
                    
                      And led hys lyf in mykell vn-ro:
                    
                      I trow ryght wele þat yt ys he,
                      Line 360 
                    
                      For he was holy, af thoght me. [Ms. al st as.] 
                    
                      Full lang has he seknes dryed
                    
                      And þis day at morne he dyed."
                    
                      When Eufemyan had hard þis tythands, [Ms. tythands st. tythande.] 
                    
                      Moght he no langer styll stand
                      Line 365 
                    
                      Bot als a man þat war wode
                    
                      Tyll Alixis bed he ȝede,
                    
                      And sayd: "þou man, par charite
                    
                      Of þi grace þou tell me —
                    
                      For I hald me noght worthy
                      Line 370 
                    
                      For-to touch thy body:
                    
                      Say me for luf of saynt Jame
                    
                      Wethen þou come, wat ys þi name?"
                    
                      Þus he called wonder oft
                    
                      Wiþ hegh wordys and wiþ soft.
                      Line 375 
                    
                      Bot worde of hym gatte he nane,
                    
                      For he was ded als a stane.
                    
                      And when Eufemyan well thoght
                    
                      Þat Alixis answerd noght,
                    
                      Nere he come and dyd oway
                      Line 380 
                    
                      Þe pouer cloþes þat on hym lay,

Page 186

                    
                      And Alixis fone he fand
                    
                      Cald, ded þare lyggand.
                    
                      And swylk a smell als he þare smeld,
                    
                      Neuer ȝet none he feled —
                      Line 385 
                    
                      Þar was neuer spice so swete
                    
                      Als he smelled, fro top to fete.
                    
                      In hayr was hys body cled,
                    
                      Of small stones was his bede,
                    
                      Vnder hys heued lay a stane —
                      Line 390 
                    
                      Softer thyng was þare nane.
                    
                      In his hand was a boke,
                    
                      Bot what was yt, myght noman luke.
                    
                      Þe pape come sone to þat body
                    
                      And stode and asked yt mercy:
                      Line 395 
                    
                      "Lorde, sayd þe pope, þow schew me
                    
                      Þe mekell vertu þat ys in þe,
                    
                      And schew vs here þis ilk letter
                    
                      Þat we all may be þe better,
                    
                      Þat we may knaw þi halynes
                      Line 400 
                    
                      And þe vertu þat in þe es."
                    
                      When he had made þis oryson,
                    
                      Wiþ gretand chere he stoped doun:
                    
                      And toke þe letter owt of hys hand,
                    
                      And grete ferly þare-on he fand.
                      Line 405 
                    
                      He toke yt a clerk, þat stode hym nere,
                    
                      And bad hym rede, þat þai myght here.
                    
                      Þe clerk bygan for-to rede,
                    
                      And Eufemyan bygan to wede
                    
                      When he þat letter understode;
                      Line 410 
                    
                      For sorow almast wex he wode, [Ms. wer st. wex.] 
                    
                      For he bygan to grete and cry
                    
                      And fell a-pon þat ded body.
                    
                      Þe mekell sorow and þe care
                    
                      Þat Eufemyan made þare
                      Line 415 
                    
                      May noman tell halfondell,

Page 187

                    
                      Ȝof hys tong war made (of) stell. [of fehlt.] 
                    
                      When Aglas, hys wyf, herd þis
                    
                      Þat he was hyr son Alixis
                    
                      Þat in bed ded lay thare,
                      Line 420 
                    
                      Scho bygan to rope and rare.
                    
                      Hys wyf come þan wiþ sory late,
                    
                      Wiþ crying and wiþ sori grate —
                    
                      No ferly ȝof scho war vn-blyth;
                    
                      Scho fore als scho to water wald wryth.
                      Line 425 
                    
                      When þe folk saw þis ferly, [Ms. sow od. saw?] 
                    
                      Faste þai loued god almyghty.
                    
                      Þe pope wiþ all hys clergy
                    
                      Come tyll þe cors worthyly.
                    
                      Tyll þe kyrk þai wald hym bere:
                      Line 430 
                    
                      Bot myght þai nogh þe cors stere
                    
                      For prese of men þat was so strang,
                    
                      Þat noman myght for oþer gang:
                    
                      For seke men þat had vnhele,
                    
                      For dom men þat myght noght mele,
                      Line 435 
                    
                      For def men þat myght noght here,
                    
                      And alt men þat myght (noght) stere, [noght fehlt.] 
                    
                      And blynd men þat had no syght,
                    
                      And mesell men þat wanted myght,
                    
                      All war þai made hall in-fere,
                      Line 440 
                    
                      Als swythe als þai neghed þe bere
                    
                      Þare saynt Alixis cors was loken,
                    
                      For wham þe steuen of god had spokyn.
                    
                      For-thy was þar swylk prese and thrange.
                    
                      Þat nane myght get gate to gange.
                      Line 445 
                    
                      Þai streued penys in þe strete,
                    
                      To ger pouer lok tyll þair fete.
                    
                      And ȝet vnneys myght þai
                    
                      Wyn to þe kyrk for pres þat day.

Page 188

                    
                      Þe kirk es ofe sainte Bonifase
                    
                      Whare þai layde goddes grase.
                    
                      Seuene daies þan woke þai þare,
                    
                      Wiþ mikil welthe & mikil fare,
                      Line 610 
                    
                      And wroȝt þare a riche schrine
                    
                      And laide Alexis corse þare-ine.
                    
                      Whare euermare, till þis werld standes,
                    
                      Er all sekemen lousid of bandes;
                    
                      Þare wirkis god for Alexis,
                      Line 615 
                    
                      For to him full dere he is.
                    
                      Oure lorde bringe vs to þat blisse
                    
                      And late vs neuer of þat ioye misse,
                    
                      Þare sainte Alexis for his mekenes
                    
                      Full nere god in heuene es.
                      Line 620 
                    
                      Oure lorde, Jhesu Criste, vs spede
                    
                      To do penaunce, & þidir vs lede. Amen.

                      Now haue i broȝte þis tale till ende,
                    
                      I rede þate we oure life amende
                    
                      And praie god þat he vs mekenes send
                      Line 625 
                    
                      And vs fra pride ofe hertte defende.
                    
                      For all þis lange tale i haue talde
                    
                      To ger ȝow in ȝoure hertes halde
                    
                      Þe mekenes of sainte Alexis,
                    
                      To ger ȝow se whate meknes is.
                      Line 630 
                    
                      For mekenes es þe beste thewe
                    
                      Þat ani man in dede maie schewe.
                    
                      For þis mekenes, ofe whilk i mene,
                    
                      Gerte Marie be modir and qwene:
                    
                      Goddes modir, & qwene of heuene;
                      Line 635 
                    
                      Forthi full blissefull es scho to neuene,
                    
                      Als scho hir-selfe saise in a sange.
                    
                      Full wele es þaim hir lufe mai fange
                    
                      And in mekenes folowe hir trace.
                    
                      For god giues meke men his grace
                      Line 640 
                    
                      And geris þaim come to þat blisse
                    
                      Þat to all mekemen graithid is.
                    
                      Oure lorde of heuene þidir vs bringe,
                    
                      Þare euer es ioye wiþ-outen gretinge,
                    
                      And leue vs so oure liue to lede
                      Line 645 
                    
                      Þat we mai all haue heuene to mede!
                    Amen.

                    
                      Þe kyrk ys of seynt Bonefas
                      Line 450 
                    
                      Þare þay layd hym wiþ goddys grace.
                    
                      Seuen dayes woke þai þare,
                    
                      Wiþ mekell welth and mekel fare,
                    
                      Þai wroght þare a ryche shryne
                    
                      And layd Alixis cors þare-ynne.
                      Line 455 
                    
                      Þar wyrches god meraclys manyfolde
                    
                      And louses of band ȝonge and holde.
                    
                      Now haf I broght þis tale to ende,
                    
                      I rede þat we our lyfes amende
                    
                      And thynk of þe meknes of Alixis:
                      Line 460 
                    
                      Þan may we be sekyr of blys.
                    
                      For meknes ys þe best thew
                    
                      Þat any man in ded may schew.
                    
                      For þis meknes þat I of mene
                    
                      Ger(t) Mary be moder, of heuen qwene,
                      Line 465 
                    
                      Als-so hyr-self says in a sang —
                    
                      Full wele ys þam hyr luf may fang.
                    
                      Þai may be seker of heuen mede —
                    
                      Oure lord vs blys and þeder vs lede.

About this Item

Pages

Alexius,

a) aus Ms. Ashm. 42. (A gude tale.)

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b) aus Ms. Gg. V, 31.

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Altenglische legenden.

About this Item

Pages

Alexius,

a) aus Ms. Ashm. 42. (A gude tale.)

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description Page 174

b) aus Ms. Gg. V, 31.

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