""Ye say ful sothe,' quod she, that is no nay,
I see comming a goodly company,'
'They ben soch folke,' quod I, ' dare I say,
That list to love think it verely,

And for my love I pray you faithfully,
At any time, whan they upon me call,
That ye wol be good frende to hem all.'

"Of my frendship,' quod she, they shal not misse,
And for their ease to put thereto my paine.'
'God yeld it you,' quod 1, 'but take you this,
How shal we know who is the chamberlaine,
That shall ye well know by her word certaine.
What is her worde sister, I pray you say,?
‘(Plus ne pourroye) thus writeth she alway.'

"Thus as we stode togider she and I,
Euen at the yate my felawes were echone,
So met I hem (as me thought was goodly)
And badde hem welcome all by one and one,
Than came forth Countenaunce anone,
'Full hertely, faire sisters all,' quod she,
'Ye be right welcome into this countre.

"I counsaile you to take a litel rest
In my chambre, if it be your pleasaunce,
Whan ye be there, me thinke it for the best,
That I go in, and cal Perseveraunce,
Bicause she is of your acquaintaunce,
And she also will tell you every thing,
How ye shal be ruled of your comming.'

'We ben five ladies,' quod I, 'all in fere,
And gentlewoman foure in company,
Whan they begin to open hir mattere,
Than shall ye know hir wordes by and by,
But as for me I have none verely,

And so I tolde Countenaunce here before,
All mine array is blewe, what needeth more."

"Than went we forth after Perseverance,
To see the prees it was a wonder cace,
There for to passe it was great combrance,
The people stode so thick in every place.
'Now stand ye still,' quod she, 'a littel space,
And for your ease somewhat I shall assay,
If I can make you any better way.'

"And forth she goeth, among hem everychone
Making a way, that we might thorough passe
More at our ease, and whan she had so done,
She beckend us to come, where as she was,
So after her we folowed more and las,
She brought us streight unto the chamberlain,
There left she us, and than she went again.

"We salued her as reason would it so,
Full humble beseching her great goodnesse,
In our matters that we had for to do,
That she would be good lady and maistresse.
'Ye be welcome' (quod she) 'in sothfastnesse,
And see what I can do, you for to please,

I am redy, that may be to your ease."

"The porter came and brought Perseverance,
She welcomed us in curteise manere,
Think ye not long,' quod she, of your atten-
I will go speke unto the herbigere,
That she purvey for your lodging here,
Than will I go unto the chamberlain,
To speke for you, and come anone again.'

"And whan she departed was and gone,
We saw folks comming without the wall,
So greate people that nombre coude we none,
Ladies they were, and gentelwomen all,
Clothed in blewe echone her worde withal,
But for to know hir word or hir devise,
They came so thick, that I ne might in no wise.

"Wherein was grauen of stories many one,
First how Phillis, of womanly pite,
Died piteously for loue of Demophone,
Next after was the story of Tisbe,
How she slewe her self under a tree,
Yet saw I more, how in a right pitons caas,
For Antony was slaine Cleopatras.

"That other side was Hawes the shene,
Full untrewly disceiued in her baine.
There was also Annelida the queene,
Upon Arcite how sore she did complaine,
All these stories were graued there certaine,
And many mo than I reherse you here,
It were too long to tell you all in fere.

M m

"And bicause the walles shone so bright,
With fine umple they were al ouer sprad,
To the entent folke shuld not hurt hir sight,
And through it the stories might be rad,
Than further more I went, as I was lad,
And there I sawe without any faile,
A chaire set with full rich apparaile.

"And fiue stages, it was set fro the ground,
Of Cassidony full curiously wrought,
With foure pomelles of gold, and very round,
Set with saphirs, as good as coude be thought
That wot ye what, if it were through sought,
As I suppose, fro this country to Inde,
Another soch it were right hard to finde,

"For wete ye well, I was right nere that,
So as I durst, beholding by and by,
Aboue there was a rich cloth of estate,
Wrought with a needle ful straungely,
Her worde theron, and thus it said truely,
I endured to tell you in words few,
With great letters, the better I hem knew.

"Thus as we stode, a dore opened anone,
A gentilwoman, semely of stature,
Bering a mace, came out her selfe alone,
Sothly me thought a goodly creature,
She speake nothing to lowde, I you ensure,
Nor bastely, but with goodly warning,

• Make rome' (quod she) my lady is comming.'

"With that anone I saw Perseveraunce,
How she helde vp the tapet in her hand,
I saw also right in goodly ordinaunce,
This great lady within the tapet stand,
Comming outward, I wol ye vnderstand,
And after her a noble company,
I coude not tell the nombre sikerly.

"Of their names I wolde nothing enquere;
Further than soch as we wolde sewe vnto,
Save a lady which was the chauncellere,
Attemperaunce sothly her name was so,
For vs nedeth with her have moche to do
In our matters, and alway more and more,
And so forth to tell you furthermore.

"Of this lady her beauty to discrive,
My conning is to simple verely,
For never yet the daies of my live
So inly faire I have seene none truly,
In her estate assured vtterly,

There wanted naught, I dare well assure,
That longed to a goodly creature.

"And furthermore, to speake of her array,
I shall tell you the manner of her gowne,
Of cloth of gold, full rich it is no nay,
The colour blew, of right goodly fashioun,
In taberde wise the sleves hanging adoun,
And what purfill there was and in what wise,
So as I can, I shall it you devise.

"After a sort, the coller and the vent
Like as armine is made in purfeling,
With great pearles full fine and orient,
They were couched all after one worching,
With diamonds in steed of powdering,
The sleeves and purfell of assise,
They were made like in every wise.

"The chamberlaine did her commaundment,
And came againe, as she was bid to do,
The secretary there being present,
The billes were delivered her also,
Not only ours, but many other mo
Than the lady with good advise againe,
Anone withall called her chamberlaine.

"We woll' (quod she) the first thing that ye do,
The secretary ye do make come anone
With her billes, and thus we will also,
In our presence she rede hem euerychone,
That we may take good advise theron
Of the ladies that ben of our counsaile,
Looke this be done withouten any faile.'

"Whan the chamberlain wist of her entent,
Anone she did the secretary call,

'Let your billes' (quod she) ‘be here present,
My lady it will:'—' madame' (quod she) ' I shall,”
And in presence she will ye hem call,'
With good will I am ready' (quod she)
'At her pleasure, whan she commandeth me.'

"And vpon that was made an ordinaunce,
They that came first, her billes should be red,
Full gentilly than said Perseveraunce,
'Reason it will they were soonest sped,'
Anone withall, vpon a tapet spred
The secretary laid hem downe echone,
Our billes first she redde one by one.

"The first lady bearing in her devise,
Sans que jamays, thus wrote she on her bill,
Complaining sore, and in full pitous wise
Of promise made, with faithful berte and will,
And so broken ayenst all manner skill
Without desert, alwaies on her party
In this matter desiring a remedy.

"Her next folowing, her word was in this wise
Un sans changer, and thus she did complaine,
Though she had guerdoned for her service,
Yet notring like as she that tooke the paine,
Wherfore she coud in no wise her restraine,
But in this case sue vntill her presence,
As reason would, to have recompence.

"So furthermore, to speake of other twaine,
One of hem wrote after her fantasie,
Onques puis leuer, and for to tell you plaine,
Her complaint was fall pitous verely,
For as she said: there was great reason why,
As I can remember this matere,

I shall you tell the processe all in fere.

"Her bill was made complaining in her gise,
That of ber joy her comfort and gladnesse
Was no surety, for in no manner wise,
She said therein no point of stablenesse,
Now ill, now wele, out of all sikernesse,
Full humbly desiring of her high grace,
Soone to shew her remedy in this case.

"Her fellaw made her bill, and thus she said,
• In plaining wise there as she loved best,
Whether she were wroth or wele apaid,
She might not see whan she woll fainest,
And wroth she was in very earnest
To tell her word, as ferforth as I wote,
Entierement vostre, right thus she wrote,

"And vpon that she made a great request,
With herte and will and all that might be done,
As vntill her that might redresse it best,
For in her mind there might she find it soone
The remedy of that which was her boone,
Rehearsing that she had said before,
Beseeching her it might be so no more.

"And in like wise as they had done before,
The gentlewomen of our company
Put bir billes, and for to tell you more,
One of hem wote (C'est sans dire) verely,
And her matere hole to specifie,
Within her bill she put it in writing,
And what it said, ye shall have knowing.

"It said God wote, and that full pitously,
Like as she was disposed in her herte,
No misfortune that she tooke grevously,
All one to her was the joy and smert,
Sometime no thanke for all her good desert,
Other comfort she wanted none comming,.
And so vsed, it greeued her nothing.

"Desiring her, and lowly beseeching
That she would for seke a better way,
As she that had been her daies living
Stedfast and trewe, and will be alway.
Of her felaw somewhat I shall you say,
Whose bill was red next forth withall,
And what it meant rehearsen you I shall.

"En dieu est, she wrote in her devise,
And thus she said withouten faile,
Her trouth might be take in no wise,

Like as she thought, wherefore she had mervaile,
For trouth somtime was wont to take availe
In every matter but all that is ago,

The more pity that it is suffred so.

"The third she wrote, rehersing her grevaunce,
Ye, wote ye what, a pitous thing to here,
For as me thoght she felt great displesaunce,
One might right wel perceive it by her chere,
And no wonder, it sate her passing nere,
Yet loth she was to put it in writing,
But need woll have course in every thing.

"Soyes ensure, this was her word certaine,
And thus she wrote in a little space,
There she loved, her labour was in vaine,
For he was set all in another place,
Full humbly desiring in that cace
Some good comfort her sorrow to appease,
That she might live more at hertes ease.

"The fourth surely me thought she liked wele,
As in her port, and in her behaving,
And Bien moneste, as ferre as I coud fele,
That was her word till her well belonging,
Wherefore to her she prayed above all thing,
Full hertely to say you in substaunce,
That she would send her good continuaunce."

"Ye have rehearsed me these billes all, But now let see somwhat of your entent," "It may so hap, paraventure ye shall, Now I pray you while I am here present, Ye shall have knowledge parde what I ment, But this I say in trouth, and make no fable, The case it selfe is inly lamentable.

"And well I wote ye woll think the same,
Like as I say, whan ye have heard my bill,"
"Now good tel on, I here you by saint lame,"
"Abide a while, it is not yet my will,
Yet must ye wete by reason and by skill,
Sith ye have knowledg of that was don before,
And thus it is said without words more.

66 Nothing so lefe as death to come to me,
For finall end of my sorrowes and paine,
What should I more desire as seeme ye,
And ye knew all aforne it for certaine,
I wote ye would, and for to tell you plaine
Without her help, that hath all thing in cure,
I cannat thinke that it may long endure.

"As for my trouth, it hath be proued wele,
To say the sooth, I can say no more,
Of full long time, and suffered euerydele
In patience, and keepe it all in store
Of her goodnesse, beseeching her therefore,
That I might haue my thanke in such wise,
As my desert serueth of justise.

"Whan these billes were rad euerychone,
The ladies tooke a good aduisement,
And hem to answere by one and one,
She thought it was too much, in her entent,
Wherefore she yaue hem commaundement,
In her presence to come both one and all,
To yeue hem her answere in generall.

But she thoght it too great encombraunce, So much to write, and therfore in certain, In God and her she put all her affiaunce, As in her word is made a remembraunce, Beseeching her, that she would in this cace Shew unto her the favour of her grace.

She spake her self, and said in this manere:
'We haue well seene your billes by and by,
And some of hem pitous for to here,
We woll therefore ye know all this in fere,
Within short time, our court of parliment
Here shall be hold in our pallais present.

"And in all this, wherein you find you greued,
There shall ye find an open remedy,
In such wise as ye shall be releeued
Of all that ye rehearse here throughly:
As for the date ye shall know verely,
That ye may haue a space in your comming,
For Diligence shall it tell you by writing.'

"We thanked her in our most humble wise,
Our felawship ech one by one assent
Submitting vs lowly till her seruise,
For as we thought, we had our trauail spent
In such wise as we held vs content,
Than each of vs tooke other by the sleue,
And forthwithall, as we should take our leue.

"All suddainly the water sprang anone
In my visage, and therewithall I woke.
"Where am I now,' thought I, 'all this is gone,'
All mased, and vp I gan to loke,

With that anon I went and made this boke,
Thus simply rehearsing the substance,
Because it shuld not be out of remembrance."

"Now verely your dream is passing good,
And worthy to be had in remembraunce,
For though I stand here as long as I stood,
It should to me be none encombraunce,
I tooke therein so inly great pleasaunce.
But tell me now what ye the book do call,

What creature hath him hence caried?.
Or how might this so sodainly befall?
I would I had here with him taried,
And so should I haue had my purpose all,
I bought ointments full precious and royal,
Wherewith I hoped his corps to anointed,
But he thus gone my mind is dispointed.

While I therefore aduertise and behold,
This pitous chaunce here in my presence,
Full little maruaile though my herte be cold,
Considering lo, my lordes absence
Alas that I so full of negligence
Sould be found, because I come so late,
All men may say I am infortunate.

Cause of my sorow you may vnderstand
(Quia tulerunt dominum meum)
An other is, that I ne may fonde,
I wote nere, ubi posuerunt eum,
Thus I must bewayle, dolorem meum,
With hertie weping, I can no better deserue
Till death approch my herte for to kerue.

My herte opprest with sodaine auenture,
By feruent anguish is be wrapped so,
That long this lyfe I may not endure,
Soch is my paine, soch is my mortall wo,
Neuerthelesse to what party shall I go,
In hope to find myne owne turtill true,

"As for this booke, to say you very right, Of the name to tell you in certainte, L'Assemble de Dames, thus it hight, How thinke ye,"-" that name is good parde," "Now go farewell, for they call after me My felawes all, and I must after sone, Rede well my dreme, for now my tale is done."

THE

LAMENTATION OF MARY MAGDALEN.

This treatise is taken out of S. Origen, wherein Mary Magdalen lamenteth the cruel death of her Saviour Christ.

PLONGED in the wawe of mortal distresse,
Alas for wo, to whom shall I complain,
Or who shall deuoid this great heuinessc,
Fro me woful Mary, woful Magdalen,
My lord is gon, alas who wrought this tein
This sodain chance perseth my herte so depe,
That nothing can I do, but waile and wepe.

My lord is gone that here in graue was laied,
After his great passion and death cruell,
Who hath him thus again betraied?
Or what man here about can me tell
Where he is become, the prince of Israel,
Jesus of Nazareth, my ghostly succour,
My parfite love and hope of all honour.

Sith all my ioy that I call his presence,
Is thus remoued, now I am full of mone,
Alas the while I made no prouidence,
For this mishap, wherefore I sigh and grone,
Succour to find to what place might I gon,
Fain I would to some man my herte breake,
I not to whom I may complaine or speake.
Alone here I stand, full sory and full sad,
Which hoped to haue seen my lord and king,
Small cause haue I to be merie or glad,
Remembryng his bitterfull departing,
In this world is no creature liuing
That was to me so good and gracious,
His loue also than gold more precious.

Full sore I sigh, without comfort again,
There is no cure to my saluacion,
His brenning loue my herte so doth constrain,
Alas here is a wofull permutacion,
Whereof I find no joy nor consolacion,
Therefore my payne all onely to confesse,
With death I feare woll end my heauinesse.

This wo and anguish is intollerable,
If I bide here life can I not sustaine,
If I go hence my paines be vncurable,
Where him to find, I know no place certain,
And thus I not of these things twaine,
Which I may take and which I may refuse,
My herte is wounded hereon to think or muse.

A while I shall stand in this mournyng,
In hope if any vision would appere,
That of my loue might tell some good tidyng,
Which into joy might chaunge my wepyng chere,
I trust in his grace and his mercy dere,
But at the least though I therewith me kill,
I shall not spare to waile and wepe my fill.

And if that I die in soch auenture,

I can no more but welcome as my chaunce,
My bones shall rest here in this sepulture,
My lyfe, my death, is at his ordinaunce,
It shall be told in euerlastyng remembraunce,
Thus to departe is to me no shame,

And also thereof I am nothyng to blame.

Hope against me hath her course ytake,
There is no more, but thus shall I die,

I see right well my Lorde hath me forsake,
But in my conceipt, cause know I none why,
Though he be farre hence and nothyng nye,
Yet my wofull herte after hym doth seeke,
And causeth teares to ren doun my cheeke.

Thinkyng alas I have lost his presence,
Which in this world was all my sustenance,
I cry and call with herty diligence,
But there is no wight giueth attendance,
Me to certifie of myne enquirance,
Wherefore I will to all this world bewray
How that my lord is slaine and borne away.

Though I mourne it is no great wonder,
Sithe he is all my joy in speciall,
And now I thinke we be so farre asonder,
That him to see I feare neuer I shall,
It helpeth no more after him to call,
Ne after him to enquire in any coste,
Alas how is he thus gone and loste ?

The Lewes I thinke full of misery,
Set in malice, by their busie cure,
With force and might with gileful trechery,
Hath entermined my Lordes sepulture,
And borne away that precious figure,
Leauing of it nothing, if they haue done so,
Marred I am, alas what shall I do.
With their vengeaunce insaciable,
Now haue they him entreated so,
That to reporte it is to lamentable,
They beate his body from toppe to the toe,
Neuer man was borne that felt soch woe,
They wounded him alas with all greuance,
The blood doun reiled in most habundance.

The bloody rowes stremed doune ouer all,
They him assayled so maliciously
With their scourges and strokes bestiall,
They spared not but smote incessantly,
To satisfie their malice they were full busie,
They spit in his face they smote here and there,
He groned full sore, and sweate many a tere.

They crouned him with thorns sharp and kene,
The veines rent, the blood ran doun apace,
With blood ouercome with both his iyen,
And bolue with strokes was his blessed face,
They him entreated as men without grace,
They kneeled to him, and made many a scorne,
Like hell-hounds they haue him all to torne.

Upon a mighty crosse in length and brede,
These turmentors shewed their cursednesse,
They nailed him without pitie or drede,
His precious blood brast out in largenesse,
They strained him along as men mercilesse,
The very jointes all, to mine apparence,
Riued asonder for their great violence.

Which rufull sight whan I gan behold,
Out of my witte I almost destraught,
Tare my heere, my hands wrang and fold,
And of that sight my herte drank soch a draught,
That many a fall swouning there I caught,

I brused my body falling on the ground,
Whereof I fele many a greuous wound.

Than these wretches ful of al frowardnesse,
Gaue him to drinke eisel tempred with gall,
Alas, that poison full of bitternesse,
My loues chere caused than to appall,
And yet thereof might he not drinke at all,
But spake these wordes as him thought best,
"Father of Heauen, Consummatum est.”

Than kneeled I doune in paines outrage,
Clipping the crosse within mine armes twain,
His blood distilled doure on my visage,
My clothes eke the droppes did distain,
To haue died for him I would full fain,
But what should it auayle if I did so,
Sith he is, Suspensus in patibulo.

Thus my Lord full dere was all disguised
With blood, pain, and wounds many one,
His veines brast, his joynts all to riued,
Partyng asonder the flesh fro the bone,
But I saw he hing not there alone,
For Cum iniquis deputatus est,

Not like a man, but like a leprous beest.

A blind knight men called Longias,
With a speare aproched vnto my souerain,
Launsing his side full pitously alas,
That his precious herte he claue in twain,
The purple blood eke fro the hertes vain,
Doune railed right fast in most rufull wise,
With christal water brought out of Paradise.

Whan I beheld this wofull passion,

I wote not how by sodain auenture,
My herte was peersed with very compassion,
That in me remayned no life of nature,
Strokes of death I felt without measure,
My deaths wound I caught with wo opprest,
And brought to point as my herte shuld brest.

The wound, herte, and blood of my darling,
Shall neuer slide fro my memoriall,
The bitter paines also of tourmenting,
Within my soule be grauen principall,
The speare alas that was so sharpe withall,
So thrilled my herte as to my felyng,
That body and soule were at departyng.

As soone as I might I releued vp againe,
My breth I coude not very well restore,
Felyng my selfe drowned in so great paine,
Both body and soul me thought were al to tore,
Uiolent falles greeued me right sore,

1 wept, I bledde, and with my selfe I fared,
As one that for his life nothing had cared.