Altenglische legenden.

                                
                                  Than sayd she: "Benedicite!
                                
                                  Who hath made the thus?"
                                
                                  Anone to her gan she say:
                                
                                  "I was made thus to-daye
                                  Line 310 
                                
                                  Wyth one that came by the waye,
                                
                                  Men call hys name Jesus".
                                
                                  "Now truely, than, sayd she,
                                
                                  He hath amended well thy ble;
                                
                                  For yesterday, so mote I the,
                                  Line 315 
                                
                                  Thou were a foule sose".
                                
                                  "Dame, sayd the smyth tho,
                                
                                  I can make the yonge so, [C. yonde st. yonge.] 
                                
                                  Had I a fyre brennynge blo.
                                
                                  But now thou must helpe us".
                                  Line 320 
                                
                                  Than the smyth at a brayed
                                
                                  A quarter of coles on he layed:
                                
                                  "Let us blowe nowe, he sayed,
                                
                                  Tyl all be on glede!
                                
                                  And thou shalt se, dame, in hy
                                  Line 325 
                                
                                  A crafte for the maystry;
                                
                                  Full fewe men can it but I,
                                
                                  I tel the trouthe, indede".
                                
                                  "Why, what wylt thou do with me?"
                                
                                  "Dame, brenne the" sayd he.
                                  Line 330 
                                
                                  "Nay, not so, sayd she,
                                
                                  Chryst it forbede!
                                
                                  To brenne me, were a shrewde game:
                                
                                  Wottest not thou, knave, whome I am?
                                
                                  Thefe, I am thyne owne dame!
                                  Line 335 
                                
                                  Evyll mote thou spede!
                                
                                  Traytour, and thou brenne me,
                                
                                  Thou shalt be hanged on a tree.
                                
                                  My malyson I gyve thee,
                                
                                  Woldest thou me slo:
                                  Line 340 
                                
                                  God let thee never eate brede,
                                
                                  Woldest thou have thy dam dede.
                                
                                  Touche me not, I thee rede,
                                
                                  For bothe thyne eyen two!
                                
                                  The fyrst tyme I thee see,
                                  Line 345 
                                
                                  I wolde I had throtled thee,
                                
                                  Now thou woldest brenne me
                                
                                  And werke me thys wo!
                                
                                  I tell thee, by sweete saynt John,
                                
                                  Thou shalt have my malyson,
                                  Line 350 
                                
                                  But thy hamer anone
                                
                                  Thou cast thee fro.
                                
                                  Moche wo hast thou wrought;
                                
                                  I kept the when thou were nought,
                                
                                  Fostred and forth the brought,
                                  Line 355 
                                
                                  Full oft dyd I wake". [C. make st. wake.] 
                                
                                  "Dame, sayd the smyth, I trowe,
                                
                                  Olde shrewe, it is for thy prowe
                                
                                  That on thys wyse nowe
                                
                                  Yonge I shall thee make.
                                  Line 360 
                                
                                  Anone se that thou shall:
                                
                                  Had I my hamer and mi mall,
                                
                                  I wolde make the full tall
                                
                                  And yonge, I undertake".
                                
                                  He layed hande on her tho.
                                  Line 365 
                                
                                  Than she spurned at hym so
                                
                                  That hys shynnes bothe two
                                
                                  In-sonder she there brake.
                                
                                  Than the smyth began to stare
                                
                                  And sayd: "Dame, God gyve the care!
                                  Line 370 
                                
                                  What aylest thee thus to fare? [aylest st. ayles.] 
                                
                                  I trowe thou art wode!
                                
                                  Yonge ful soone I can make thee,
                                
                                  And that anone thou shalt se;
                                
                                  I am waxen now full crafty,
                                  Line 375 
                                
                                  I tell thee, by the rode!
                                
                                  Thou spendest now and mai not pay,
                                
                                  Thou hast lyen full many a day
                                
                                  By the wall, for sothe I thee say,
                                
                                  And can do no good".
                                  Line 380 
                                
                                  Full fast the fyre gan he blow,
                                
                                  And sayd: "Be thou never so throw,
                                
                                  I shal amende the sonne, I trow,
                                
                                  Of bone and eke of bloud".
                                
                                  She sayde: "Syr, by saynt Jhone,
                                  Line 385 
                                
                                  Of thy mendyng kepe I none.
                                
                                  Therfore let me alone
                                
                                  And touche me no more!"
                                
                                  "Yes, sayde he, that I mote.
                                
                                  Come forthe, olde dote!"
                                  Line 390 
                                
                                  She catched hym by the throte,
                                
                                  That bloud out gan fare.
                                
                                  As he drew her nere,
                                
                                  She set her fote agaynst a spere,
                                
                                  And sayd: "Thefe, wylt thou me dere?
                                  Line 395 
                                
                                  God gyve the care!"
                                
                                  He cast her on the smythes stocke,
                                
                                  And than she hent hym by the locke

About this Item

Title: Altenglische legenden.
Author: Horstmann, Carl, ed. b. 1851.
Canvas: Page 326
Publication: Heilbronn,: Gebr. Henninger,; 1881.
Subject terms: Saints -- Legends; English poetry; Legends

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Collection: Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse
Link to this Item: https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001
Link to this scan: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/c/cme/afw1383.0001.001/497:4

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DPLA Rights Statement: No Copyright - United States

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Manifest: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/api/manifest/cme:afw1383.0001.001

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Full citation: "Altenglische legenden." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/afw1383.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 20, 2025.

Altenglische legenden.

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