Sammlung altenglischer legenden, grösstentheils zum ersten male hrsg. von C. Horstmann.

                                
                                  And, þauh þe peple hire dampned had,
                                
                                  He alone wiþ vois ful sad
                                  Line 245 
                                
                                  Asoiled hire fro þat dampnyng
                                
                                  And demed þe juges to dyȝing.
                                
                                  Hit may bifalle, heo seide, parde,
                                
                                  Þat vndur wolues cloþing a schep þer be.
                                
                                  Vr lord Crist haþ his knihtes
                                  Line 250 
                                
                                  And also legiouns of gret mihtes."
                                
                                  And to hir self ȝit heo gon say:
                                
                                  "A smiter ȝif þer beo to day, [aut fortasse percussor intravit: ne verearis, anima! et tales solent martires facere".] 
                                
                                  Me to sle, nou icomen in,
                                
                                  Wiþ eny strengþe or elles gin,
                                  Line 255 
                                
                                  Wiþ staf or ston oþur elles swerd,
                                
                                  Mi goode soule, beo not aferd!
                                
                                  For suche men for Godus sake
                                
                                  Ben wont martires for to make!"
                                
                                  Þe feiþ of þis mayden [O virgo, fides tua te salvam fecit (262—3 Zus.)] 
                                  Line 260 
                                
                                  Saued hire from wikked men—
                                
                                  As I schal nouþe ȝou tel,
                                
                                  Ȝif ȝe wole herken me wel.
                                
                                  Þen þe kniht "suster", he seid, [Cui miles: "Quaeso ne paveas, soror! huc veni salvare animam, non per|dere(!); serva me, ut ipsa serveris!] 
                                
                                  "Beo not aferd ne abreid!
                                  Line 265 
                                
                                  As a broþur I am come,
                                
                                  Mi soule to saue atte day of dome.
                                
                                  Kep þou me, and i schal þe,
                                
                                  I preye þe for charite!
                                
                                  I com hider as avouter: [quasi adulter ingressus, si vis, martir egrediar. Vestimenta mutemus, conveniunt mea tibi et tua mihi, sed utraque Christo; tua vestis me verum militem faciet et mea te virginem;] 
                                  Line 270 
                                
                                  Ȝif þou wolt, i schal go out marter.
                                
                                  Chaunge we nou vre cloþing,
                                
                                  For hit wole beo wel semyng
                                
                                  Þat þi cloþing beo don on me,
                                
                                  And also myne vppon þe;
                                  Line 275 
                                
                                  For, soþ to seye, þis is my list
                                
                                  Þat boþe two we seruen Crist.
                                
                                  Þi cloþing schal make me verrey kniht,
                                
                                  And my cloþing þe maiden briht.
                                
                                  Þou schalt be cloþud swiþe wel, [bene tu vestieris, ego melius exuar ut me persecutor agnoscat.] 
                                  Line 280 
                                
                                  But i moste beo spoyled eueridel,
                                
                                  Þat he þat pursuweþ so harde þe
                                
                                  Mowe riht wel knowe me. [Sume habitum qui abscondat feminam, trade qui consecret martirem! indue chlamydem quae occultet membra virginis et servet pudorem, sume pileum qui tegat crines, abscondat ora: solent erubescere qui lupanar intraverunt.] 
                                
                                  Tac þou nou my cloþing on
                                
                                  Þat wel wol huyde a wommon,
                                  Line 285 
                                
                                  And tak me þyne anon riht her:
                                
                                  Þei mowe me halewe a marter.
                                
                                  Do on my mantel þat is so syde,
                                
                                  A maidenes membres þat wol hyde;
                                
                                  Set myn hat vppon þyn hed,
                                  Line 290 
                                
                                  To huide þin her and eke þi sched,
                                
                                  Hit wole also schadewe þi faas,
                                
                                  Whon þou schalt go forþ þi paas:
                                
                                  Aschomed, forsoþe, woned þei ben
                                
                                  Þat in to bordel entren.
                                  Line 295 
                                
                                  Wayte wel, whon þou art gon oute, [Sane cum egressa fueris, ne respicias retro, memor uxoris Loth, quae naturam suam, quia impudicos licet castis oculis adspexit, amisit (304—5 Zus.); nec vereare(!), ne quid pereat sacrificio (310—2 Zus.).] 
                                
                                  Loke not aȝein, for no doute:
                                
                                  Of Lothus wyf loke þou haue mynde,
                                
                                  Hou þat heo lost hire ownekynde,
                                
                                  For heo loked hire bihynde
                                  Line 300 
                                
                                  On hem þat to God weoren vnkynde;
                                
                                  Al þouh hir oune eȝen weren clene,
                                
                                  Þat heo biheold, wiþouten wene,
                                
                                  Was vnclene — þerfore þat place
                                
                                  Distruyȝed was þorwh Godus grace.
                                  Line 305 
                                
                                  To no mon loke þou verreyed beo
                                
                                  Who þat þou art, whom euer þou seo,
                                
                                  For hit mihte falle on þat wyse
                                
                                  Sumwhat to perissche of vr sacrefyse"—
                                
                                  Þat forsoþe to hire seide he
                                  Line 310 
                                
                                  Þat he for hire wolde martired be;
                                
                                  Þerfore to hire he seide: "þou trist, [Ego pro te hostiam Deo meo reddam, tu pro me militem Christo, habens bonam militiam castitatis quae stipendiis militat sempiternis, loricam justitiae quae spirituali munimine corpus in|duat, scutum fidei quo vulnus repellas, galeam salutis.] 
                                
                                  For þe i schal me offre to Crist.

About this Item

Title: Sammlung altenglischer legenden, grösstentheils zum ersten male hrsg. von C. Horstmann.
Author: Horstmann, Carl, b. 1851.
Canvas: Page 30
Publication: Heilbronn,: Gebr. Henninger,; 1878.
Subject terms: Legends; English poetry; Saints

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Collection: Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse
Link to this Item: https://name.umdl.umich.edu/ajd8171.0001.001
Link to this scan: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/c/cme/ajd8171.0001.001/36:3

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Manifest: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/t/text/api/manifest/cme:ajd8171.0001.001

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Full citation: "Sammlung altenglischer legenden, grösstentheils zum ersten male hrsg. von C. Horstmann." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/ajd8171.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 21, 2025.

Sammlung altenglischer legenden, grösstentheils zum ersten male hrsg. von C. Horstmann.

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