Classic Poem

T HENNE demed I to þat damyselle:
" Ne worþe no wrathþe vnto my Lorde,
If rapely [I] raue spornande i n spelle,
My herte watg al w it h mysse remorde;
As wallande water gotg out of welle,
I do me ay i n hys myserecorde.
Rebuke me neu er w it h wordeg felle,
þag I forloyne, my dere endorde;
Bot [k]yþeg me kyndely yo ur cou m forde,
Pytosly þenkande vpon þysse, —
Of care & me ge made acorde,
þat er watg grou n de of alle my blysse.

" My blysse, my bale, ge han ben boþe;
Bot much þe bygger get watg my mon;
Fro þou watg wroken fro vch a woþe,
I wyste neu er quere my perle watg gon
Now I hit se, now leþeg my loþe;
& quen we departed, we wern at on;
God forbede we be now wroþe!
We meten so selden by stok oþ er ston.
þag cortaysly ge carp[e] con,
I am bot mol, & ma[n]ereg mysse;
Bot Crystes mersy & Mary & Jon, —
þise arn þe grou n de of alle my blysse

" In blysse I se þe blyþely blent,
& I a man al mornyf mate;
Ge take þer-on ful lyttel tente,
þag I hente ofte harmeg hate.
Bot now I am here i n Yo ur p re sente,
I wolde bysech, wyth-outen debate,
Ge wolde me say i n sobre asente
What lyf ge lede, erly & late
For I am ful fayn þat yo ur astate
Is worþen to worschyp & wele iwysse;
Of alle my joy þe hyge gate,
Hit is i n gro un de of alle my blysse "

" Now blysse, burne, mot þe bytyde! "
þen sayde þat lufsou m of lyth & lere;
" & welcu m here to walk & byde,
For now þy speche is to me dere
Mayster-ful mod & hyge pryde,
I hete þe, arn heterly hated here;
My Lorde ne loueg not for to chyde,
For meke arn alle þat woneg hy m nere
& when i n hys place þ o u schal apere,
Be dep deuote i n hol mekenesse;
My Lorde þe Lamb loueg ay such chere,
þat is þe grou n de of alle my blysse.

" A blysful lyf þ o u says I lede;
þ o u woldeg knaw þ er -of þe stage.
þow wost wel when þy Perle con schede,
I watg ful gong & tender of age;
Bot my Lorde þe Lombe, þurg hys God-hede,
He toke my self to hys maryage,
Corou n de me quene i n blysse to brede,
I n lengh e of dayeg þat eu er schal wage.
& sesed i n alle hys herytage
Hys lef is; I am holy hysse;
Hys prese, hys prys, & hys parage
Is rote & grou n de of alle my blysse. "

" B LYSFUL , " q uo þ I, " may þys be trwe?
Dyspleseg not if I speke erro ur
Art þ o u þe quene of heueneg blwe,
þ a t al þys worlde schal do hono ur ?
We leuen on Marye þat grace of grewe,
þat ber a barne of vyrgyn flo ur ;
þe croune fro hyr quo mogt remwe,
Bot ho hir passed i n su m fauo ur ?
Now, for synglerty o hyr douso ur ,
We calle hyr Fenyx of Arraby,
þat freles flege of hyr fasor,
Lyk to þe Quen of cortaysye. "

" Cortayse Quen, " þe n ne s[a]yde þat gaye,
Knelande to grou n de, folde vp hyr face,
" Makeleg Moder & myryest May,
Blessed Bygy n nerÔÇá of vch a grace! "
þe n ne ros ho vp & con restay,
& speke me towarde i n þat space:
" S ir , fele here porchaseg & fongeg pray,
Bot supplantoreg none w it h -i n ne þys place
þat Emp er ise al heue n g hatg,
& vrþe & helle i n her bayly;
Of erytage get non wyl ho chace,
For ho is Quen of cortaysye.

" The co ur t of þe kyndom of God alyue
Hatg a p ro perty i n hyt self bey n g;
Alle þat may þer-i n ne aryue
Of alle þe reme is quen oþ er ky n g,
& neu er oþ er get schal depryue;
Bot vchon fayn of oþ er eg hafy n g,
& wolde her corou n eg wern worþe þo fyue,
If possyble were her mendy n g.
Bot my Lady, of quom Jesu con spry n g,
Ho haldeg þe empyre ou er v us ful hyge;
& þat dyspleseg non of oure gy n g,
For ho is Quene of cortaysye.

" Of co ur taysye, as saytg Say n t P[a]ule,
Al arn we me m breg of I es u Kryst;
As heued & arme & legg & naule
Temen to hys body ful trwe & t[r]yste,
Rygt so is vch a Krysten saw[l]e
A longande lym to þe Mayster of myste
þe n ne loke, what hate oþ er any gawle
Is tached oþ er tyged þy ly m meg by-twyste?
þy heued hatg nauþer greme ne gryste,
On arme oþ er fynger þag þ o u ber byge
So fare we alle wyth luf & lyste
To ky n g & quene by cortaysye. "

" Cortays[y]e, " q uo þ I, " I leue,
& charyte grete be yow amo n g;
Bot, my speche þat yow ne greue,
[Me þynk þou spekeg now ful wronge;]
þy self in heuen ou er hyg þ o u heue,
To make þe quen þat watg so gonge.
What more hono ur mogte he acheue
þat hade endured i n worlde stronge,
& lyued i n penau n ce hys lyueg longe,
W it h bodyly bale hy m blysse to byye?
What more worschyp mogt h[e] fonge,
þen corou n de be ky n g by cortays[y]e?

" THAT cortays[y]e is to fre of dede,
Gyf hyt be soth þat þ o u coneg saye;
þ o u lyfed not two ger i n oure pede;
þ o u cowþeg neu er God nauþ er plese ne pray,
Ne neu er nawþer Pater ne Crede;
& quen mad on þe fyrst[e] day!
I may not traw, so God me spede,
þat God wolde wryþe so wrange away
Of cou n tes, damysel, par ma fay,
Wer fayr i n heuen to halde asstate,
Oþ er elleg a lady of lasse aray;
Bot a quene!-hit is to dere a date. "

" þer is no date of hys god-nesse, "
þen sayde to me þat worþy wygte;
" For al is trawþe þat he con dresse,
& he may do no þynk bot rygt.
As Mathew meleg i n yo ur messe,
I n sothfol Gospel of God Al-mygt,
I n -sample he can ful grayþely gesse,
& lykneg hit to heuen lygte.
" My regne," he saytg, " is lyk on hygt
To a lorde þat hade a uyne, I wate;
Of tyme of gere þe terme watg tygt,
To labor vyne watg dere þe date.

" " þat date of gere wel knawe [h]ys hyne;
þe lorde ful erly vp he ros
To hyre werkmen to hys vyne,
& fyndeg þ er su m me to hys porpos.
Into acorde þay con de-clyne
For a peneÔÇá a day, & forth þay gotg,
Wryþen & worchen & don gret pyne,
Keruen & caggen & man hit clos
Aboute vnder þe lorde to marked totg,
& ydel men stande he fyndeg þerate:
" Why stande ge ydel?" he sayde to þos;
" Ne knawe ge of þis day no date?"

" " Er date of daye hider arn we won n e,"
So watg al samen her answar sogt;
" We haf standen her syn ros þe su n ne,
& no mo n byddeg v us do rygt nogt."
" Gos i n -to my vyne, dotg þat ge co n ne;"
So sayde þe lorde, & made hit togt: —
" What resnabeleÔÇá hyre be nagt be ru n ne
I yow payÔÇá i n dede & þogte."
þay wente i n -to þe vyne & wrogte;
& al day þe lorde þ us gede his gate,
& nw[e] men to hys vyne he brogte,
Wel-neg wyl day watg passed date.

" " At þe [date] of [day] of euen-songe,
On oure byfore þe so n ne go dou n ,
He seg þer ydel men ful stronge,
& sade to he[m], w it h sobre sou n : —
" Wy stonde ge ydel þise dayeg longe?"
þay sayden her hyre watg nawhere bou n .
" Gotg to my vyne, gemen gonge,
& wyrkeg & dotg þ a t at ge mou n ."
Sone þe worlde by-com wel brou n ,
þe su n ne watg dou n , & ÔÇáhit wex late;
To take her hyre he mad su m ou n ;
þe day watg al apassed date.