Altenglische legenden.

                                
                                  That syngys messe at þe sepulcoure:
                                
                                  On þe same graue þat oure lord in leye,
                                
                                  Prestys synge in latyne euery deye.
                                  Line 230 
                                
                                  Off oure maner is þer songe —
                                
                                  Saue þer berdys are wele longe:
                                
                                  That is þe vse of þat contre:
                                
                                  That haue longe berdys, are of degre;
                                
                                  The ordour of þem are bare-fote frerys.
                                  Line 235 
                                
                                  Off almus-dedys þei haue no perys,
                                
                                  Fore þei hold none oþer astate
                                
                                  Bot worschype god arly & late,
                                
                                  Both with þe new law & þe olde —
                                
                                  They passe all cytes a M. folde.
                                  Line 240 
                                
                                  When þei make to god þer mone,
                                
                                  They pray fore all as wele as one.
                                
                                  Thys holy (prestys), þer duelle, [Ms. saules st. prestys.] 
                                
                                  Schall wytnes þat I ȝou telle:
                                
                                  Fore þei haue spokyne in þer orytory
                                  Line 245 
                                
                                  With sallys þat are in þe peynes of pur|gatory. —
                                
                                  Beȝond þer is an auter vnder an hylle
                                
                                  That seynte Elyne louyd full wele,
                                
                                  And an hole in þe groūnde
                                
                                  There þe holy crosse was fonde,
                                  Line 250 
                                
                                  And þe two crossys of þe theuys all-so:
                                
                                  The beter was betwene þem two;
                                
                                  There is "a pena & culpa" in þat place
                                
                                  Fore all men þat comys theder fore grace,
                                
                                  And beforne as we schuld fare,
                                  Line 255 
                                
                                  Many gode syȝhtys as wele as þare.
                                
                                  Seynte Elyne, þe emperyse,
                                
                                  And Constantyne, hyre sone so wyse,
                                
                                  Ordeynd þat place fore grete delyte
                                
                                  Fore euer-more it schuld be replyed(!);
                                  Line 260 
                                
                                  Seynt Syluester, þat holy pope,
                                
                                  Confermyd it vnder hys holy cope,
                                
                                  And what sche wold haue þertylle —
                                
                                  The pope was redy at hyre wylle.
                                
                                  And ȝit it is more stronge þan so,
                                  Line 265 
                                
                                  And þat schall I preue, or I go: [Ms. I schall I.] 
                                
                                  The Jewys askyd Jhesu of þer wylle(!)
                                
                                  And bade hym ansuere to þat skylle;
                                
                                  He seyd in myddys of þe werld with skylle,
                                
                                  Full hyȝe brouȝt vpone an hylle, [267—70 sind verderbt.] 
                                  Line 270 
                                
                                  And seyd: "who-so be in charyte
                                
                                  And fore my loue hydere wyll wende,
                                
                                  In Ioy & blysse he schall me se
                                
                                  And with me duelle with-outen ende."
                                
                                  Beȝond þat we may to a pylere go
                                  Line 275 
                                
                                  Where þat he sufferd mekyll wo:
                                
                                  Bonde & betyne þer he stode,
                                
                                  Tyll all hys body ranne onne blode;
                                
                                  So thyke þei spyte on hym by rawe,
                                
                                  That nomane myȝht hys vysage knowe. —
                                  Line 280 
                                
                                  Than turned we vponne a grece in hye [Auf den Calvarienberg führten 18 Stufen, er lag innerhalb der Grabeskirche.] 
                                
                                  On-to þe mounte of Caluerye.
                                
                                  There was fond a fote of groūnde,
                                
                                  There is none sych in þe werld roūnde:
                                
                                  Fore it was plantyd with þat tre
                                  Line 285 
                                
                                  There Jhesu bouȝht vs & made vs fre,
                                
                                  And it was halowyd with þat blode
                                
                                  That oute of hys body ȝode,
                                
                                  And þat was payd in ransone
                                
                                  Fore all þe synnes þat we hade done.
                                  Line 290 
                                
                                  There turnyd all hys cruelte(!)
                                
                                  To grete mersy, as we may se,
                                
                                  When he foregaffe þe stronge theffe
                                
                                  That cryede mersy, as he was leffe,
                                
                                  And pute hym in no lauȝhynge ley(!)
                                  Line 295 
                                
                                  Bot gaffe hym paradys þat same dey.
                                
                                  Crysten man, if þou be wyse,
                                
                                  Hold þou þis of mekyll price! —
                                
                                  And ȝit dyde he more, to feyne:
                                
                                  He foregaue þem þat brast hys veyne,
                                  Line 300 
                                
                                  And prayde hys fader hyȝe on lofte
                                
                                  Foregyue þe soules þat he hade wrouȝht.
                                
                                  There he betauȝt hys modere dere
                                
                                  To Johne, his cosyne, þat stode hym nere,
                                
                                  And John betoke hys modure also;
                                  Line 305 
                                
                                  And þei forth to-geder gane go.
                                
                                  And þer he soferd grete pouerte,
                                
                                  Neuer man so mekyll as he —
                                
                                  A fox hath hole, a byrd hath neste,
                                
                                  He had not where-onne hys hede to reste —
                                  Line 310 
                                
                                  The drynke he askyd, was grete amours,
                                
                                  Was mans saule, & non oþer lycours.

About this Item

Title: Altenglische legenden.
Author: Horstmann, Carl, ed. b. 1851.
Canvas: Page 359
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/afw1383.0001.001/530:4

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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 17, 2025.

Altenglische legenden.

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