Altenglische legenden.

Horstmann, Carl, ed. b. 1851., Barbour, John, d. 1395.

II. Einzellegenden.

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Page [454]

22. S. Cristofer, aus Ms. Lincoln Cathed. (Thornton Ms.), fol. 122b. (c. 1430).

Die beste Beschreibung des sog. Thornton Ms. (N. A. 1, 17 der Dombibliothek zu Lincoln) geben Fred. Madden in s. Ausg. des Syr Gawain 1839 (für den Banna|tyne Club), und Halliwell in s. Thornton Romances 1844. Diese Hs., fol., papier., 314 Blätter zählend, im Anfang und am Ende und auch sonst mehrfach defect, ist grösstentheils von einem Robert ab Thornton (so die Unterschrift vieler Stücke der Hs.) c. 1430—40 geschrieben, welchen Madden einer in der Gegend von Rydale, North-Riding, Yorkshire, ansässigen Familie dieses Namens zutheilt und für identisch halten möchte mit dem i. J. 1425 als Vikar von Silkeston in der Dechantei von Don|caster nachweisbaren Robert Thornton (cf. Ms. Addit. 11400 p. 55), während Laing und Perry richtiger auf einen ebenso genannten, aus Yorkshire gebürtigen Geistlichen der Kathedrale von Lincoln, der später archdeacon von Bedford war und 1450 starb, schliessen. Die Sprache der Hs. weist deutlich auf Yorkshire, nicht auf Lincolnshire; auch die ursprünglich in einem andern Dialect abgefassten Gedichte sind in den York|shire Dialect umschrieben. Das Alter des Ms. ist nach 1422 zu setzen, da die fol. 250 ff. erzählte "Reuelacyone schewede to ane holy womane now one late tyme" (so der Titel) nach der Angabe des Gedichtes selber in diesem Jahre stattfand; es ist also ein ver|hältnissmässig spätes Denkmal des nördlichen Dialektes. — Den Inhalt der Sammlung bilden Romanzen (Morte Arthure, the awntyrs of Arthure of the Terne-Wathelyne, Romance off Syr Perecyuelle of Gales, Octovyane, Ysambrace, Sir Degrenance, Eglamour of Arthasse), Legenden, religios-moralische Gedichte und Gebete (ed. von Perry Religious pieces in prose and verse, 1866, für die E. E. T. S.), Prosaabhand|lungen zum Theil von Richard Hampole, dem Landsmann Thornton's (ed. von Perry Prose treatises of Rich. Rolle de Hampole für die E. E. T. S.), u. andere Prosastücke (wie Leben Alexanders des Gr.). Die Legenden dieses Ms. sind: S. Cristofer fol. 122b; S. John Euangelist fol. 231 b, in 14 zeil. Strophen und Alliteration (diese bindet je 2 Langverse), den alliter. Dichtungen (wie Susanna, Morte Arthure) angehörig, aber ziemlich rein im nördl. Dialect geschrieben; und de Miraculo beate Marie fol. 147 (von einem sündhaften Ritter, der durch einen friar bekehrt wird, Anf.: Jhesu lorde in Trynyte þat was and es and aye schalle be). Das Gedicht Lamentacio peccatoris fol. 51 (Anf. Alle crystyn men þat wawkes me bye) ist identisch mit dem in unserer Sammlung p. 367 abgedruckten Gedicht. S. John Evangel. ist bereits edirt in Perry's Religious pieces in prose and verse für die E. E. T. S. (mehrfach fehlerhaft). — S. Cristopher gehörte vielleicht der nördl. Legendensammlung an. Nach v. 5 ist eine grössere Lücke, da mehre Blätter ausgefallen sind. Dieses Gedicht folgt hier nach einer, von mir nochmals mit dem Ms. verglichenen Abschrift Dr. Brandl's.

Vita Sancti Cristofori.

(Her)e bygynnes þe lyffe of þe Story of (S)aynte Cristofre, to þe heryng or þe (red)yng of þe whilke storye langes . . ete mede, & it be done with deuocione.

Lordynges, if it be ȝowre will,

And ȝe will here & holde ȝow still

And take ȝow tome a while þertill,

A nobill storye I sall ȝow tell,

And als trew it es als any steylle.

*. [(Hier ist eine grössere Lücke.)] . . . . .

[folio 123] "For-thy, sir kyng, hafe now gud daye!*. [l. sir od. ser? s. sirris 624.]

I sall neuer ryste, sothely to saye, Page 455

Ne neuer in seruece with lorde lende

Tyll I be seruand to þat fende." —

And fra þat kyng with steryne mode

He went away als he ware wode.

Forthe he wandirde Este & Weste,

Thorgh wyldirnes and whilde forest,

Many a mountayne & many a valaye

Thorowte he went, full many a daye.

And appone a daye, als he gane byde

Vndir ane heghe mountayne syde,

Als-so ferre als þat he couthe kene

He saughe ane oste of armede mene;

Foulle & vggly were þaire wedis,

And alle þay rade one blake stedis;

Als þay come rydand one a rowte,

A grete tempest come þame abowte.

Ane of þe vgglyeste of þat araye

Comes rydand owte appone straye;

Vnsemly was he vnto syghte;

Twentty cubettes he was of heghte.

& als sone als he come hym nere,

"Beleamy, he sayd, what dose þou here?

Telle me tyte withowtene lesynge

What es þe cause of þi commynge!"

Full sone he ansuerde hym agayne:

"Me standes none awe fro þe to layne:

Certanly, þe sothe to telle,

I gaa to seke þe fende of helle.

Kane þou telle me of hym oghte?

For many a day I hafe hym soghte."

"Whate wolde, & þou myghte hym mete?"*. [im Ms. fehlt þou.]

"Serue hym, he sayde, to hende & fete,

& euer-mare to be hys mane,

In alle þe seruece þat I kane:

And I may fynde þat it swa bee [folio 123a:2]

Þat þere be no gretter a lorde þane hee."

The toþer ansuerde sone & sayde:

"I ame þe fende, & þou be payede,*. [Ms. þer st. þou?]

In alle þis worlde þer sall fynd nane

So grete a lorde als I ame ane.

Halde vp thy hand þou sall be trewe

And neuer chawnge me for no newe!"

"Here my trouthe; I halde me payede,

And it be sothe als þou hase sayde."

Bathe to-gedir away þay ȝode,

Als þay hade bene welland wode,

Thorowte marrase & ouer mowntayne.

Till þay come to a faire playne,

Þare two gatis to-gedyre mett:

Whare crystyne mene a crosse hade sett.

And whene þe fende was of it ware,

For ferde one syde he styrte full ferre,

He tuk a waye þat was full wyk,

Thorowte a wod with thornnes thikke.

And his discyple foloude so faste

Þat hym thoghte he all to-braste.

Whene þay com to þe playne agayne,

Bytwix þame two was noþer fayne:

For þaire cotis ware al to-reuyne

And þaire lymmes in-sondir sleuene.

Byfore þe fende he styrte, Iwys,

"Saye, whatkyns fare, he sayd, is this?

Whate sawe þou, or whate ayled the,

So faste owte of thy waye to flee?

And þou me serue efte on þis wyes,

No lengare I kepe of thy seruyce."

The fend hym gafe full sone ansuere:

"That concele wetys þou neuer-mare;

For all þe golde þat es in my kyste

That preuate walde I noghte þou wiste.

And ells, whate als euer þou will, [folio 123b]

Alle thi lykynge I sall fullfill."

"Nay, he said, I make a vowe:

Bot þou telle me the skyll righte nowe,

Sall I neuer langare, by þis lyghte,

Serue the, noþer daye ne nyghte."

Þe fend sawe þer none oþer waye

Bot þer þe sothe he most nedis saye;

"Saghe þou, he saide, þat crossede tree

Þat stod byfore bathe the & mee?"

"Ȝa, he said, þat saughe I wele;

How myghte þou make so myche vncele?"

"Þat sall I say þe sothefastly.

Þat es my maste souerayne enemy.

For whene þat all þis werlde was lorne,

Criste was of a maydene borne

And dyed for þame on slyke a tree,

To brynge þame owte of my poste.

Þer es no-thyng, he sayd, so mekill I hate,

For-thi I flede owte of my gate; Page 456

In þat place I dare noghte byde

Whare I it see one any syde."

One-one he ansuerde hym agayne:

100

"Here hafe I takyne þe with a trayne:

For þou said, in þis werlde was none

So myghtty a lorde als þou was one,

Ne none so grete in no degree,*. [Ms. undeutlich ob Nee oder Ne.]

And on þat conant I duelte with the;

105

Bot now me thynke: sene þat þou flede

& for þat tre was so adrede,

Þou erte wele ferdere, sothe to sayne,

For hym þat one þat tre was slayne.

My seruece thynke me euylle bysett

110

And sare me rewes I with þe mett.

Fare wele, fende, for euer & aye!

For Cryste to seke I will assaye;

I sall neuer ryste on lyth nor lyme

Till þat I hafe mett with hym." [folio 123b:2]

115

And trewly þar, als I ȝow telle,

He partede fro þe fende of helle.

Þe fende bygane to crye & ȝarme,*. [ȝarme to cry, auch Allit. P. B 971.]

Bot he myghte do hym nankyn harmme.

Fro þat stede full faste he ȝode,

120

Thorgh wildirnes, als he ware wod(e),

Thorgh many a cete & many a towne,

Thorgh many a vale & many a downe,

Northe aud Southe bothe Este & Weste,

Thorgh wildirnes & wylde foreste;

125

He fande no-man þat couthe hym telle

In whate place þat Criste gane duelle,

Ne þat couthe make of hym mynde

In whate place he solde hym fynde.

And als he went by hym allanne,*. [Ms. allane.]

130

In gret murnynge makand hys mane,

By a faire mountayne syde,

Arely in a morowene tyde,

He loked abowte: þane was he warre

Of an ermytage vndir a skerre;

135

And thedir he went appone his fete.

And þer he fande an alde ermete;

His vesage & his berde was whytte,

To loke one hym was grete delytte;

His clethyng was of þe same colour;

140

Hym semyd a mane of grete honour.

& als sone als he come hym nere,

He haylesed hym one his beste manere:

"Sir, he saide, in Cristis name

Wele-come be þou to my hame!

145

Telle me, if thi will it bee,

Whene þou arte & of whate contree,

And alle þi cause, bothe more & lesse, [folio 142]

What þou dose in þis wildirnesse?"*. [Das folg. Blatt ist im Ms. versetzt.]

And he ansuerde, & was full fayne:

150

"Sir, he said, I sall noghte layne:

Als euer mot I wele fare,

I seke a mane þou spake of are;

I hafe hym soghte full wilsome wayes,

Many ȝeris and many dayes,

155

And went thorgh many dyuerse lande,

And ȝitt was neuer mane þat I fande

Þat trewely couthe put me in mynde

In what stede þat I solde Criste fynde;

Swa mekill I hafe hym in my thoghte

160

Þat all þis werlde I sett at noghte.

Kane þou oghte wysse me to þat mane?"

"Ȝaa, quod þe hermete, I trow I kane.

What es thi will, & þou hym fande?"

"Serue hym, he said, to fote & hande,

165

With all my witt & all my myghte,

For euer-mare, bathe daye & nyghte:

And I se it swa maye falle

Þat he be gretteste lorde of alle."

"Ȝis, quod þe hermet, sothe it es,

170

He es kyng of souerayne blysse;

Heuene & erthe & angells bryghte,

Sone & mone & sternes lyghte,

Mane & beste & foule one tree

And fysches in þe flode to bee,

175

Elementes & alkyne thynges,

Bouxome are to his biddynges;

With his worde he mad þame alle,

Hym to serue, bothe grete & smalle.

For-thi I say þe, certanlye,

180

Þer es no souerayne lorde bot he.

Bot certanly, þe sothe to saye,

If þou will serue þat lorde to paye,

The firste thyng es, the sall availe,

To wirke after gud consaile

185

And forsake thyne awene will Page 457

In alle thynges, bathe lowde & stille;

Fastynge sall þou mekill vse

And gude metes & drynkes refuse;

At ilke tyme þat þou sall ete

190

Tak noghte halfe þi fill of mete!

Vnto thi bedde when þou sall gaa,

Luk þat þou ly nexte-hand þe straa!

And when þou felys thy flesche es warme,

Than sall þou kepe þe þus fra harme:

195

Ryse vp naked with all thy mayne,

Till þat thi flesche be calde agayne!

Þus sall þou gete the victorye

Of hym þat es thy maste enemy.

If þou wirke appone this wyse,

200

Þan may þou duelle in þi lordes seruyce;

Owte of þis werlde whene þou sall wende,

To Joye & blysse withowttene ende."

Þan ansuerde he with mylde mode:

"Some of þis concelle thynke me gude;

205

Bot, als euer hafe I riste or ro,

Alle this penance I may noghte do;

My body es so grete & lange

Þat mete I ne may no while forgange.

For-thi I pray the for his sake

210

Anoþer penance þat I myghte take."

Þane ansuerde þat haly ermyte,

With wordis þat ware mylde & swete:

"Many a prayere byhoues the to saye

Vnto þat lorde, bathe nyghte and daye,

215

And wirchipe hym in þat þou kane,

For-why he es bothe god & mane.

Pouerte, sekenes, reches & hele,

Alle es in his hande to dele,

In his lykynge & in his wille

220

Wheþer he will vs safe or spille;

Alle þe halowes þat are in heuene

And angels, ma þan mane kane neuene,

Withowttene sessynge byfore hym þay synge

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, withowttene endynge.

225

And þou sall pray hym especyaly

To defend þe fra thi false enemy,

Þat es abowte-warde daye & nyghte

Thi saule to sla with all his myghte.

For by his crosse þou myghte wele see

230

Whate þat garte þe fende awaye so flee,

How mekill of powere þat he es,

And lorde & kyng of endles blysse.

His crosse garte he byfore the sett

The fende of helle fro þe to lett;

235

For, had it noghte bene þe byforne,

Till endles payne þou hade ben lorne

And gane till helle with þe fende,

To duelle in payne withowttene ende."

"Allas, he sayde, þat I ne couthe

240

Þat lorde wirchipe with my mouthe!

For, & I couthe, I walde full fayne

Wirchipe hym with all my mayne."

The ermyte ansuerde with myld mode:

"Sen it (es) swa thi will es gude*. [es fehlt im Ms.]

245

And þou kane noþer faste ne praye,

And god askes noghte bot at þou may:

I sall þe concell in oþer thynge

To serue hym wele to his lykynge.

Þere rynnes bysyde þis heghe mountayne

250

A water, þat turnes to mekill vngayne;

It commes owte of þe salte see,

For-thy na brygge may ouer it bee;

Þe stremys are so styffe & stythe

Þat many a mane þer losses þaire lyfe.

255

And þe semys a mane full strange,

For þou arte wondirly brade & lange.

And þou will in a logge byde

By þat wilde water syde

And bere mene ouer þat hedouse flode

260

For Cristes luffe þat dyed on rode,

In alkyne whethirs, daye & nyghte,

And feyne þe neuer at all þi myghte:

Certanely, I dare wele saye,

Þan sall þou serue þat lorde to paye,

265

And for thi trauell & thi serues

He will þe brynge till heuens blysse."

Vnto þat ermete sone he sayde:

"In þis conant I halde me payede:

Will þou be borghe it sall swa be."

270

"Ȝe, sayd þe ermet, als mot I the,

Þis conant will I vndirtake

For Cristes luffe & for his sake."

Þe ermet hym lerid withowten drede

His Paternoster and his Crede,

275

His Aue Maria he lerid hym alswa,

And oþer prayers many ma.

And appone þe thirttendaye Page 458

Vnto þe water þay tuke þaire waye.

Bysyd þat burne, þat was sa brade,

280

Bytwix þame twa a logge þay made.

With-In þat logge he houede styll;

Þe ermet broghte his mete hym till.

Spared he neuer daye ne nyghte

To bere mene ouer with all his myghte;

285

Was neuer wethir so fers ne felle,

Ne tempeste, þat mene couthe telle,

Þat ne he was redy in littill whille

To bere mene ouer withowttyne perill. [folio 125]

His clathes with þe whilke he couerde his skyne,

290

Febill þay were & wondir thyne;

And, als he ȝode appone þe day,

Swa in his logge one nyghttes he laye.

In wynter whethirs þat ware full calde

Þane sufferde (he) penance many-falde,*. [he fehlt im Ms.]

295

With froste & snawe bothe hayle & slete—

He hade no felynge till his fette.

Somtyme þe ermet broghte hym mete,

& somtymes was þer nane to gete.

A lang sprete he bare in hande,

300

To strenghe hym in þe water to stande.

In his story als I herde saye,

This lyffe he lede full many a daye.

Till after in a wynter tyde

A storme felle by þat water syde;

305

Sa hedousely þat storme gane falle

Þat sondir it braste both waghe and walle;

Wyndis wexe bothe wilde & wode,

Wawes bolnede In þe flode.

Full sore he was þer-of adrede,

310

And faste in-till his logge he flede

And sperid his dore with a pyne,

And for þat whethir held hym þer-Ine.

Whene þat it was abowte mydnyghte,

Byȝonde þe water he herde a skrythe,

315

Full lowde one heghte he herde it cry,*. [Ms. urspr. saye, in cry corr.]

And askede "helpe ouer" full rewfully,

In his crye þat he gane make,

"Helpe ouer", he saide, "for Cristes sake!"

Vp he stirte with steryne mode

320

And swythe he paste ouer þat flode,

With his lange staffe in his hande.

Na thyng on lyf þer he fande.

Belyfe he turnede hym ouer agayne,

And of his trauele he was vnfayne.

325

Vnnethes he had mad hym bownne

In his logge to lay hym downe:

Whene he herd a wele mare rewfull crye;

"Helpe ouer" it saide "for Cristes mercy!"

And vp he rase & ouer he went

330

For Cristes luffe with trewe entent.

And when he come þer it solde be,

Na qwyke thynge couth he here nor se.

Þane was he werse payed of his fare

Þane of all his trauele þat he had are;

335

Agayne he wode þat water onane,

Nerehand fornomene on ilke a bane;

By he was commene vnto þe banke,

He hade no fele on fote ne schanke.

In-till his logge he hyede þat tyme,

340

And to þe erthe he felle in swyme.

And als he laye on þat gronde full still,

He herde a voyce bothe lowde & schrylle,

Cryande with a rewfull mod

"Helpe ouer, for Cryste þat dyed on rode!

345

Bot I hafe helpe sone in this stede,

My lyfe es lorne, I ame bot dede."

The third tyme ouer þe flod he ferde;

No-thyng he sawe, no-thyng he herde —

Mirke it was, abowte midnyghte;

350

Of mone ne sterne had he no lyghte.

& als he gropede downe to þe sannde,

He fande a littill childe sittande

Agayne þe wethirs þat ware so calde,

Als it were of a tweluemonethe alde.

355

Vp he lyftede þis childe anone

And sett it on his schuldir bone —

Þat he hym fand he was full fayne,

For els he trowed he had bene slayne;

He couerde þe childe with his mantill noke,

360

And ouer þe water þe way he tuke.

In-myddis þe streme when þat þay ware,

The wawes with wynde bygane to barre,

And the childe swa heuy woghe

Þat ofte-sythes one knees he hym droghe;

365

In-to þe water he crokede downe Page 459

And was in perell for to drowne —

Sen þe fyrste daye þat he was borne,

Was he neuer swa ferde byforne!

Þe water bygane to bolne & rowte

370

And ofte-tyms hym turnede abowte;*. [Ms. = tymms, oder tymes?]

So þat vnnethes, als he vndirstode,

Passede he qwykke ouer þat flode.

And whene (he) come to þat water bryme,*. [he fehlt im Ms.]

He sett hym downe, and lukede one hym

375

With a wondir angry chere.

"Childe, he sayde, what dose þou here?

Tell me tytt þe trewe tale

Wheyne þou come & whedir þou salle!

For, als euer moghte I the,

380

Dere hafe I boghte þe lufe of the.

And maste I mervayle me of a thynge:

Þat þou, þat arte so littill & so ȝynge,

How þou may be so heuy of wheghte.

Resone of this wolde I wete reghte,

385

Þat arte wele hevyere, by my hede!

Þane a hundrethe stane of lede;

For, had all þis werlde bene in a sekke

And laide one lofte appone my nekke,

Hevyere myghte I noghte hafe borne,

390

If I solde hafe bene dede þer-forne."

Than ansuerde þat littill childe,

With wordis þat were meke & mylde:

"Thou sall wele wiete withowtten faile

Þat of my weghte es no mervaile:

For þou hase borne, þe sothe to ne|uene,

395

Þat hevyere es þane erth & heuene,

For I ame makere of alkyns thynge

And god withowttene any bygynnynge;

Of þis thynge mervaile þe noghte:

400

Thou hase hym borne þat hase þe boghte.

And trowe me wele withowttene drede,

I sall þe qwyte full wele thi mede.

Turmentys sall þou many ane take

And sythene be martirde for my sake;

405

Take þame gladly & with gude chere,

For þou sall be my derlynge dere;

Owt of þis werlde whene (þou) sall wende,*. [þou fehlt im Ms.]

I hete þe Joyes withowttene ende.

And with þe water of þe see

410

In my name I crystyne the;

Cristofere in Criste I calle þe here,

In my name, by thryne manere.

Firste I will þou bere my name

And suffere for me mekyll schame —

415

And whate mene sayse or dose þe till,

Suffir it with a hertly will!

Þat oþer poynte þat es þe nexte,

I will þou bere me in thi breste,

Als þou me on thi schuldir bare;

420

This es þe seconnd poynte of lare —*. [l. secound?]

And trowe wele þat I am godd & kynge

And souerayne lorde of alle thynge.

The thirde poynte es, I will þou gaa

Thorghe alle this lande bothe to & fra

425

And preche my lawe with mekill honoure,

To duke & kynge and emperour.

And if þay saye þou arte noghte trewe,

This verraye takynnyng þou schall þame schewe:

Thi staffe þat þou hase in thi hande,

430

With þe whilke þou bare me to þe lande,

Vnto þe erthe þou late it falle

And stryke it downe byfore þame alle [folio 126]

And praye to me! it maye be sene:

If it bere fruyte & leues grene,

435

That als trewe & sothe it es

Þat I am god of heuenes blysse.

For-thi to morne whene it es daye,

Thou tak þi staffe & wend thi waye,

Thorowte þis lande þat es sa wyde,

440

To townnes & cetees on ylka syde!

Byfore kyngges whene þou arte broghte,

What þou sall say ne drede þe noghte:

For in thi tonge I sall be ay

And teche þe alle þat þou sall saye.

445

Dispytously þay sall þe smytte

And spitt one the in gret dispite,

Many turmentis sall þou take;

Bot thole þam mekly for my sake!

For after þame I sall þe brynge

450

To Joy & blysse withowttene endynge.

Hafe gud day, Cristofire, & thynk on me!

My blyssynge mot euer with þe be."

Whene he had said, he steghe til heuene, Page 460

To mare Joye þane mane kane neuene. —

455

Appone þe morne, verrament,

Cristofir fra his logge went;

His stafe in his hand he tuk,

And blyssede hym, als telles þe buke.

Thorowte þat lande full faste he prechide

460

& Cristes lawes þe folkes he techide;

Saraȝens he conuerted ay-whare

& garte þame lefe on Cristis lare.

He droghe hym till a noble cetee,

Þe gretteste þat was in þat contre —

465

Licie þat riche cetee hyghte;

Þare-In he duelly(d) a full seuenyght.*. [Ms. duelly.]

Bot murnynge hade he mekill in mode

Þat he þaire speche noght vndirstode;

Full specyaly to gode he prayed

470

Þat he myghte wete (whate) þay sayde.*. [whate fehlt im Ms.]

Crist it wolde noghte fra hym layne;

And whene he wiste, he was full fayne.

Sone he went In-to þe felde;

Full many a saraȝene hym byhelde,

475

Þat had gret ferly of his fare,

Whethyne he come & whate he ware;

Fra sa mekill a mane and sa store*. [fra = since, od. st. for.]

Had þay neuer sene byfore.

Apertly to þe peple he prechede,

480

Als Criste hym-seluene had hym techide,

Of his Incarnacione,

Of his pyne & of his passione,

And how for vs with mylde mode

He sufferde dede appone þe rode,

485

And sythene fra ded to lyfe rasee

And steghe till heuene, als his will was,

How he sall come one domesday

Bathe als god & mane verraye

And alle mene deme withowttene bade

490

Þat euer was in this werlde made;

Wha wele hase done, to Joy sall wende,

Þase oþer to payne withowttene ende.

And þane to Criste hertly he prayede:

If all were sothe þat he had sayde,

495

Þat his stafe in Cristis honour

Byfor þame solde bere fruyte & flour.

He lyfte þe stafe vp in þat stownde

And strak it downe in-to þe grownde:

And in þat place, þat alle myghte sene,

500

It bare bathe fruyte & leues grene.

Alle þat euer þat miracle seghe,

Helde vp þaire hende till heuene on heghe

And to þe grounde on knees gane falle,

And cristene mene bycome þay alle:

505

Heghte thowsande mene þaire ware by tale,

Withowttene womene & childir smale;

Cristofere wente to a water anone

& sone he cristenede þame euerylkone.

Forthe þere come a saraȝene strange,

510

Þat was a mayster þam amange

Of grete honour & grete renowne,

Þat kepare was of þaire Mahowne;

Vysage had he stowte and gryme;

In grete dispyte he spitte one hym,

515

With þe smale ende of his mace

He smate Cristofere in the face,

Swa þat he bygane to blede.

Than Cristofere said: "so Crist me spede,

Wharne I leuede on goddes lare,*. [Ms. wharne st. warne = ne war, nisi.]

520

Þat bofett sold be venged sare."

The saraȝene felle, þer he gune stande,

& þe mace clefed in his hande;

Sone onone þer was he dede;

His body wexe als bla als lede.

525

Cristofere grette & made ill chere;

"Jhesu, he saide, þat boghte vs dere,

Thurghe vertu of thi wondis fyve

Þou graunte þis mane to hafe his lyfee:

Þat alle may knawe the in this stede,

530

Þat þou arte lorde of lyfe & dede!"

With þat worde þe saraȝene rase

Fra dede to lyffe, als goddis will was.

Whene he was resyne, he cryed on heghte:

"Loued be god, he said, of myghte,

535

Fadir & sone and þe haly gaste,

& Mary, þat es his modir chaste!

For I was dampned in-to helle,

In endeles paynes þer-In to duelle,

And god hase(me)sauede thurgh his grace,*. [Ms. hafe st. hafe. me fehlt im Ms.]

540

Till schewe his miracle in this place.

My false goddes I here forsake Page 461

And till his mercy I me bytake

Þat dyed for vs appone a tree —

Louede & wirchipid mot he bee!"

545

His false goddis he smate þame alle

In-sondir with ane Iryne malle;

Cristofere cristenede hym on-ane

And namede hym Sebastyane.

Than wente þay forthe bothe in-fere,

550

Thorghe alle þat lande, ferre & nere.

Whare cristene mene & prisoners ware

In turmentes & in prisouns saree,

Bothe þay broghte þaym mete & drynke,

And concelde þame on Criste to thynke

555

And for to take with hertly will

Alle paynnes, bothe lowde & styll,

Also þaire dede þat þay solde take

With glade chere for Cristis sake,

And after þaire paynnes þat þay sold wende

560

To Joye & blysse withowttene ende. —

Whene þe kynge of þis herde telle,

Þat was a sowdane fers & felle,

Þat þer was comene ouer þe flode

Þe maste mane þat euer on erthe ȝode,

565

With a lang staffe in his hande,

And ȝode prechande thorow his lande,

And had turnede to cristyne laye

Heghte thowsande saraȝens appone a daye,

And also his dere frende Joas,

570

Þat kepare of his goddis was:

Þe kynge stirte, whare he stode,

& fure als he ware welland wode;

He brandeschet hym & bate his berde. —

Þase þat hym saghe, þay were full ferde.

575

"Allas, he sayde, whate sall I doo?

Slyke tythandes come neuer are me too!"

Lowde he gane bothe rowte & rare,

"Allas, he sayde, for sorowe and care;

Be Mahowne þat made the mone, [folio 127]

580

Of hym sall I be vengede sone."

Belyfe he garte be armede wele

A howndrethe mene in Iryne & stele;

"Belyfe, he sayde, þat ȝe be bowne

And sekes þat harlotte fro towne to towne!

585

Whene ȝe hafe foun hym at þe laste,*. [l. fonn?]

Brynges hym byfore me bowndene faste!

I sall hym chasty on swylke manere

Þat euer-ylke mane bothe ferre & nere

Ensampill by hym sall þay take

590

Oure myghty goddis to forsake."

Thorowte þat lande þat was so wyde

Þose knyghttes hym soghte on ylke a syde;

And at þe laste þay hym fande,

Appone his knees to Criste prayande.

595

And als he turnede to þame his face,

God hym gaffe so mekill grace

And slyke a meracle for hyme schewed þane,

Þat alle thase bycome cristyne mene.

And with þe water of a welle

600

He baptiȝede þame, als I ȝow telle,

In þe name of þe Trynyte,

Þat es one gode & persones three;

He taughte þame how þat þay sold wyrke

To trowe in gode & haly kyrke,

605

And alle þaire false goddis defye

That ware no better þane sorcerye.

And whene þir tythandes were comene to towne,

Þe kyng felle of his chayere downe —

His hede he brake agayne a walle;

610

& faste one Mahowne gane he calle,

And said: "als þou erte lorde of myghte,

Þou helpe me nowe to fende my ryghte,

Þat alle thies folke may knawe & trowe

Þat þare es no god bot thou."

615

Twa hundrethe knyghtes sent he þane,

Armede wele, of hardy mene;

He comande þame one lyfe and lyme

Þat þay solde brynge Cristofer to hym.

Thay went forthe at þe kynges bone,

620

And whare he was þay fande hym sone.

And whene þat þay his vesage saghe,

Full faste for ferde awaye þay flaghe.

Cristofer faste on þame gune calle

And þus he sayde vnto þame alle:

625

"I praye ȝow, sirris, with herte meke,

Ȝe will me saye what þat ȝe seke."

A knyghte hym ansuerde son onone —

For ferde he tremlide ylka bone: Page 462

"We come in message fro þe kynge

630

Vntill his presence the to brynge.

Bot we sall gyffe þe leue Iwysse

To wende whare þat þi will is;

And to þe kynge sall we saye

That we þe fande noghte in our waye."

635

"Naye, said Cristofere, þat ware no skill,

Þane wroghte ȝe noghte þe kynges will.

Bot I will say ȝow verrayment:

Bot if it be by myne assent,

Ȝe hafe no power ne no myghte

640

To brynge me to þe kynges syghte.

Bot ȝe sall take a stalworthe baste

And bynde my handes byhynd me faste;

And, wheþer it torne to wele or waa,

Gladly will I with ȝow gaa."

645

With stalworthe rapes gane þay bynde

His handis bakewarde hym byhynde;

Þay ledde hym forthe on þat arraye

Tyll þay come þare þe kynge laye.

Whene þe kynge hade of hym syghte,

650

In his chayere he welte vp ryghte.

And whene þay had lyfte hym vp agayne,

Thane of Cristofer gane he frayne

Whethyne he was and of whate con|tree:

"Hafe done, he saide, & telle þou me!"

655

Cristofere with full blythe chere

Ansuerde hym on this manere:

"Byfore my baptyme was I thane

A saraȝene & a cursede mane,

And sen my baptyme hafe I bene

660

A crystyne mane, als þou may sene;

Cristofere I hate, in Cristis name —

He will me schelde fro syne & schame."

Than said þe kynge: "so mot I thryue,

I sall þe proue a fole belyue

665

For to neuene hym in þis stede

Þat myne eldirs did to dede

And sloughe hym on a gebete-tre —

A fote fro þam he moughte not flee.

For-thi I say þe on this wyese:

670

Bot þat þou make sacrafice

Vnto my goddis, þat all may welde,

Þou sall be dede appone a felde."

Cristofere sone hym ansuerde þus:

"Full righte thi name es called Dagius:

675

Þat es þus mekill for to saye

Þou arte bothe cursed & waried for ay,

& felawe vnto þe false fende

& dampned till helle withowttyne ende.

For alle þi goddis are fekill & false,

680

And so, for sothe, arte þou als."

Þe kynge bygane to styrte & stare

& couthe (!) & rowte als he wode ware.*. [couthe scheint verschrieben (st. coupe caupe?).]

"Fy appone þe, þou boye so bolde!

Appone my goddis þou lyes, þou le|wede —

685

Þat sall þou appone thi body bye;

Thow fals rebawde, I þe defye.

Myne knyghttes thorowe þi wichecrafte

Fra my lay þou hase þame rafte."

Euer-ilkane he garte þame take

690

And bynd þame faste, for Cristes sake,

And In a felde for grete dispite

Alle þaire hedis he garte of smyte;

Þaire bodyes he garte leue in þe felde,

Wylde wolues for to hafe in welde.

695

& Cristofere after all þis full sone

In a presone he garte be done,

Withowttene owþer drynke or mete,

In stokkes styffe & fetters grete;

Mekill stynke was þer, I wene,

700

Tadis & neddirs & scorpyons kene.

Þane keste þe kynge a cursed gynne,

To gare hym falle in dedly syne:

He tuke twa maydyns bryghte of blee,

Þe fayreste þat was in þat contree,

705

And put þame to hym preualy,

To gare hym falle in lechorye;

Bot Criste, þat maste of myghtes may,

Saued hym in þat harde assaye.

Als he prayede in þat presone syde,

710

Þay haylsede hym with mekyll pride

And bade hym fele þaire pappis bare

And wyrke what euer his will ware;

Þe tane of þame highte Nicia,

& þe toþer highte Aquilina.

715

Cristofere saide: "benedicite;

Whate do ȝe here, & what are ȝe?" Page 463

Þay ansuerde hym withowttene naye:

"Þe kynge vs sende þe to bytraye,

& oure warysone he hase vs highte

720

To gare þe syne with vs to-nyghte.

Bot we see fully in thi face

So mekill of vertu & of grace,

Þat we þe pray to forgyffe vs

& teche vs to trowe on thi Jhesus;

725

Oure false goddis we will forsake

And till his mercy fully vs take." [folio 128]

Cristofere cristenyde þame ryghte þare*. [Ms. þ [gap: 1] , hier durch þare aufgelöst.]

And kend þame to leue on Cristis lare.

Þe kynge herde tell of þis full rathe,

730

& sone he send after þame bathe.

"Wyches, he said, waa mot yow be!

Hafe ȝe forsakyne my goddis so free

Thurghe þe concelle of this false Jug|lour —

And myghte hafe had sa mekill honour?

735

By Mahoune þat es moste of pryce,

Bot ȝe make sone ȝoure sacrafyce,

I sall neuer styrre owte of this stede

Till ȝe be done till wykked dede."

A nobill ansuere withowttene bade

740

Full sone vnto þe kynge þay made:

"If we sall do one þat manere

Als þou vs comandes to do here,

Gare swepe bylyfe þe stretys alle,

& to þe tempill thi concelle calle,

745

Þat þay may see how we sall doo,

& for to bere witnes þer-too!"

Whene alle was (done) als þay had sayde,*. [im Ms. fehlt done.]

Þe kynge wende wele till hafe bene payede.

Þe maydyñs in-till þe tempill ȝode,

750

In Cristes name, þat died one rode,

Þaire beltis tuke þay in þaire handis

& abowte þe mawmetis neke þam bande,

Þay trayled þam forthe amange þam alle

Till þat þay felle in powdir smalle.

755

Þane sayd þe maydyns on þer gamene

Till alle þe saraȝens þat þer wa(r) samene:*. [Ms. wa.]

"Gose, getis ȝow lechis with all ȝour mayne,

For to hele ȝour goddis agayne!"

Þe kyng cryede owte, harraw, allas

760

Þat euer of womane borne he was,

He rafe his clothis alle to wondir,

Whene þat his goddis ware brokyne in|sondir.

Aquilina, þat maydene brighte,

He garte þame hynge hir in his syghte;

765

Many heuy stonys till hir þay bande

And all to-rafe hir fote & hande.

One this manere whene scho was dede,

Þay tuke hir sister in þat stede,

Nicia, þat maydene swete,

770

& band hir faste bothe hende & fete

& caste hir in a fyre full rathe.

Bot owte scho paste withowttyne skathe:

Þer was non hare appone hir hede*. [Ms. harme st. hare.]

Towched with þe fire so rede,

775

Ne no weme on hir body,

Thurgh goddis grace & his mercy.

Whene þe kynge was warre of this,

Nerehand wexe he wode Iwys;

A foulle saraȝene comande he tyte

780

Þat he sold hir hede of smyte.

Whene þat hir martirdome was done,

Þe kynge in chayere sett hym sone,

Swythe he bade withowtt duellynge

Cristofere þay sold byfor hym brynge.

785

And sone whene he com hym byforne,

He spitt one hym with full grete skorne,

"Fy, he said, þou foule, þou etayne!*. [etayne, ags. eóten = giant, so in M. Arth. 4122, 4163.]

Alle my knyghtes þou garte be slayne

And with thi falsehede & thi fare

790

Þou hase me wroghte full mekill care;

Swa sall þou neuer no langare doo,

Als euer hafe I riste or roo!"

His turmentours, þay stode hym by,

He garte þame nakyne all his body,

795

With flayllis of Iryne lange & grete

Fra bake to syde he garte þam hym bete.

Þay sett a bacenet one his hede

Þat byrnand was of fyre so rede.

Ane Iryne bynke þay made with strenghe, Page 464

800

Fyftene cubetes it was one lenghe;

Cristofere þan garte þay bynd,

Hys handis bakwarde hym byhynde,

And one þat bynke þay band hym faste,

Ay qwyles þe Iryne ropis myghte laste.

805

Than comanded þat renegate

Þat bynke with fyre þay solde make hate;

Bylyfe þay tuke bothe terre & pykke

And wilde fire þat was full wykke,

Qwyke bromstone þay did þer-to

810

And oþer thynges many moo,

And alle this vndir þe bynke þay thraste,

And with þayre belyes þay blewe ful faste,

Till it was rede one ilke a syde

Als rose es in þe somers tyde.

815

Cristofere on þat bynke he laye

Fra it was prime appone þe to daye,*. [Ms. to daye, to ist zu tilgen?]

Als nakede als he was borne,

Till it was mydday one þe morne.

Þe tourmentours, at blewe at hyme,

820

Criste forschope þame bothe lythe & lyme:

Some were tournede þe face byhynde,

Some were crokede, & some wer blynde.

& with a blaste þer come a thondir:

Twa thowsande saraȝenes were smetyne in-sondir,

825

Some þe body fra þe hede,

Brynte als blake als pyk or lede;

Of þame þer come þe fouleste stynke

Þat euer any mane myghte see or thynke.

Þe bynke of Iryne þat Cristofere bare

830

Als waxe awaye it meltyde þare,

And he stode vp bothe hale & fere,

Smyland with a semly chere.

And to þe kynge he sayd: "here may þou see

My goddis myghte & his poustee:

835

For alle þe elemenfis are in his walde,

Wheþer he will þay be hate or calde.

Me hase thoghte þis fyre als cole

Als I had lyggene in a water polle,

& als so softe to my lykynge

840

Als dewe es in a may mornynge.

For-thi þou lefe thyne eresye

And crye to Criste for his mercy,

Þat þus hase saued in þi syghte

His seruand thrugh his mekill myghte."

845

"Fy, he saide, þou wiche strange!

I had þe leuer one galous hange

& sythene with wylde horse drawe,

Or þou sold gare me torne my lawe.

Commes hedir swythe, my knyghtes kene,

850

And helpes me wele, þat it be sene!

For I hafe ordeyned swylk a wyle,

He sall no lengare vs bygyle:

If þat he will (noght) byrne with lowe,*. [noght fehlt im Ms.]

We sall hym slaa with schotte of bowe.

855

Takis hym bylyfe in-to ȝour welde

And ledis hym faire in-to þe felde,

Appone a bent withowt þe borghe

With scharpe arowes ȝe schote hym thurghe!

And, be Mahowne, if þat ȝe spede,

860

I sall ȝow qwyte full wele ȝour mede."

Thay bande hym þane naked vntill a tree,

Þat gret dole it was to see,

In a felde þat was full playne,

Þare whethirs calde were hym agayne.

865

Abowte hym come many stowte saraȝyne,

For to do hym sorowe & pyne;

Thay bente þair bowes tyte & sone

And schote þaire arowes agayne þe mone.

Was neuer arowe þat greued hym

870

Ne þat hym towched lythe nor lyme —

God schewed þer a meracle faire:

For alle þaire arows hange in þe ayre,

Als thike als leues dose on trees

Or ells þat þay were swarmes of beese.

875

Thre hundrethe knyghtis Iwys þer ware [folio 129]

Þat schote at Cristofere body bare.

Þe kynge of this when he herde telle,

Downe he come fra his castelle,

With many a knyghte of his menȝe,

880

Þat grete mervaile for to see.

And als he lokede vp-on heghe,

Ane of þe arowes smate owte his eghe.

The kynge sterte whare þat he stode,

And nerehande wexe he welland wode.

885

"Allas, he sayde, for sorow & care, Page 465

Now am I lorne for euer-mare,

For ȝone fende with his wichecrafte

My syghte fra me away hase rafte!"

Cristofere, bowndyne þer he stode,

890

Thus ansuerde hym with myld mode:

"How scholde I arowes schote at the?

Here stand I bowndyne till a tree

Als nakede & bare als es a stane;

Bowe ne arowes hafe I nane;

895

Bot þou sall ons knawe & fynde

That þe same arowe þat mad þe blynde

A knyghte it schotte withowttene faile

Þat chefeste es of thi consaile.

For-thi, while þat þou hafe space,*. [Ms. hafe oder hafe?]

900

Aske god mercy of his grace!

For, if-alle þe thynke þou dose me pyne,

The grettest penance euer es thyne.

To-morne at pryme in this same stede

Þou sall gare me be don to dede;

905

Whene I am dede, þou take my blode

In his name þat dyede one þe rode,

& laye it one thyne eghe ful ryghte:

& þer-thurgh sall þou hafe syghte."

Alle nyghte naked þer stode he styll,

910

Prechande þe pepill with full gud will,

How þay solde Criste bothe lufe & drede

& after þat hafe heuene to mede;

Many a saraȝene fers & felle —

Wele ma þane I with tonge kan telle —

Þat nyghte he tournede to þe trouthe ful trew,

915

To leue appone oure lorde Jhesu.

And one þe morne at þe houre of pryme,

Als he had sett byfore hys tyme,

Till hym þer come a saraȝene strange

920

With a naked suerde in his hande;

"Cristofere, he saide, gyf þe noghte ille,*. [vor ille fehlt like?]

The kynge hase sente me the vntill

With my swerde the for to slaa.

For-thy myne herte es wondir waa.

925

Bot walde þou wyrke after my rede,

At this tyme solde þou noghte be dede:

For alle thi bandis sall I bryste

& wende with the to ȝone foreste;

& lefe I will one cristyne lare

930

& duelle with the for euer-mare."

"Nay, said Cristofere, so haf I riste,

Þat concelle es noghte for þe beste:

It ware to me a grete taryinge*. [Ms. taryunge, mit Punkt über u.]

Fro þat Joye þat es withowtyne endynge.

935

Bot þou sall trewly trowe in Criste

And In his name be baptiste;

& whene þou hase thi deuer done,

Þou sall come to Joye onone,

For I sall certanly, þe sothe to saye,

940

Wend byfore & make þat waye."

The saraȝene said: "god do his will!

& als þou saise I assent þer-till."

Cristofere knelede downe on his knee

And sayde: "In manus tuas, domine.

945

Alle-myghty god, als þou me boghte,

For my syne forsake me noghte;

Jhesu, þe sone of swete Marye,

Of my saule þou hafe mercy!

And, als þou erte god syttand in trone,

950

Þat þou will graunt to me a bowne:

For alle mene þat in presone are

And alle þat are in sorowe & care,

For alle womene þat are with childe,

For all þat passes by waters whylde:

955

For all þat hase me in thaire mynde,

Thi swete grace þat þay may fynde,

And þat my storye will here or rede

Of þaire askynge þat þay may spede;*. [Ms. þat þat.]

& for my frende þat me sall slaa

960

& brynge me fro þis werldis waa,

Þat þou hym will forgyfe his myse

& brynge hym to þi mekill blysse."

Whene he had said als I ȝow neuene,

A voyce þer ansuerde hym fro heuene:

965

"I grante the fully thi prayere.

Come to me, my seruande dere!"

The saraȝene þat helde þe suerde in hande,

Full fast he trymlide fote & hande.

He lyfte his swerde with hert full sare,

970

And Cristofere hede he smate of thare.

Whene he had done, he felle to grounde,

And bathe þay dyede in þat stownde; Page 466

Thaire saules wente to-gedir a-waye

To Joye & blysse þat lastis aye.

975

The kynge thane with a sympill mode

Enoynted his eghe with Cristofer blode:

And thorgh þe grace of god al-myghte

Þe kyng full sone he had his syghte.

A tombe full sone þe kynge garte make,

980

Of marbyll whitte, for Cristofere sake,

And beryed hym with grete solempnite

In þe myddis of þat riche cete;

His frende he beryed at his feete,

In a tombe, þat was full mete.

985

The kynge þer made a faire abbaye

And dyd þer-In monkes graye,

In the honour of Cristofere & his frende

To laste vnto þe werldes ende.

Þe kynge his false goddis all forsuke

990

And crystyndome of priste he tuke,

And alle þat in þat cete ware

He cristenyde þame, bothe lesse & mare;

Kirkes garte he many make

Thurghe his landis for Cristis sake;

995

Pristes þame In he dyd to praye

In þe honour of Criste to domesdaye.

He ordayned in his land full tytte:

What mane of Cristofere spake dispite

Or of Cristis lawes spake velany,

1000

He solde be dede withowttene mercy.

Þat noble kyng þat highte Dagius,

He gart hym be called Cristicolus.

Þe lawes of Criste he kepid full ryghte

Twenty ȝeres after with all his myghte;

1005

He lyffed in almous-dedis & orysouns

And many haly deuocyouns,

& þane he dyed, als I herd saye,

And beryed was in þat same abbaye,

And, in his story als it es sayde,

1010

By Cristofere garte he hym be layde.

Thaire (saules) are samene in heuens blysse.—*. [saules fehlt, oder Thaire st. thay?]

God bryng vs thedir, whene his will es.

Amene.

Explicit vita sancti Cristofori.

Thornton.

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