THE SECONDE NONNES TALE.
In
Tyrwhitt’s text,
ll.
15469-15489;
see
p. 508
The Prologe of the Seconde Nonnes Tale.
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- THE ministre and the norice un-to vyces,
- Which that men clepe in English ydelnesse,
- That porter of the gate is of delyces,
- To eschue, and by hir contrarie hir oppresse,
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That is to seyn, by leveful bisinesse,
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- Wel oghten we to doon al our entente,
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Lest that the feend thurgh ydelnesse us hente.
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- For he, that with his thousand cordes slye
- Continuelly us waiteth to biclappe,
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Whan he may man in ydelnesse espye,
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- He can so lightly cacche him in his trappe,
- Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,
- He nis nat war the feend hath him in honde;
- Wel oughte us werche, and ydelnes withstonde.
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And though men dradden never for to dye,
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- Yet seen men wel by reson doutelees,
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That ydelnesse is roten slogardye,
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Of which ther never comth no good encrees;
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And seen, that slouthe hir holdeth in a lees
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Only to slepe, and for to ete and drinke,
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- And to devouren al that othere swinke.
- And for to putte us fro swich ydelnesse,
- That cause is of so greet confusioun,
- I have heer doon my feithful bisinesse,
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After the legende, in translacioun
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- Right of thy glorious lyf and passioun,
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Thou with thy gerland wroght of rose and lilie;
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Thee mene I, mayde and martir, seint Cecilie!
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Inuocacio ad Mariam.
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- AND thou that flour of virgines art alle,
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Of whom that Bernard list so wel to wryte,
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- To thee at my biginning first I calle;
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Thou comfort of us wrecches, do me endyte
- Thy maydens deeth, that wan thurgh hir meryte
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The eternal lyf, and of the feend victorie,
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As man may after reden in hir storie.
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- Thou mayde and mooder, doghter of thy sone,
- Thou welle of mercy, sinful soules cure,
- In whom that god, for bountee, chees to wone,
- Thou humble, and heigh over every creature,
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Thou nobledest so ferforth our nature,
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- That no desdeyn the maker hadde of kinde,
- His sone in blode and flesh to clothe and winde.
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Withinne the cloistre blisful of thy sydes
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Took mannes shap the eternal love and pees,
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That of the tryne compas lord and gyde is,
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- Whom erthe and see and heven, out of relees,
- Ay herien; and thou, virgin wemmelees,
- Bar of thy body, and dweltest mayden pure,
- The creatour of every creature.
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Assembled is in thee magnificence
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- With mercy, goodnesse, and with swich pitee
- That thou, that art the sonne of excellence,
- Nat only helpest hem that preyen thee,
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But ofte tyme, of thy benignitee,
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Ful frely, er that men thyn help biseche,
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- Thou goost biforn, and art hir lyves leche.
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- Now help, thou meke and blisful fayre mayde,
- Me, flemed wrecche, in this desert of galle;
- Think on the womman Cananee, that sayde
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That whelpes eten somme of the crommes alle
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- That from hir lordes table been y-falle;
- And though that I, unworthy sone of Eve,
- Be sinful, yet accepte my bileve.
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- And, for that feith is deed with-outen werkes,
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So for to werken yif me wit and space,
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- That I be quit fro thennes that most derk is!
- O thou, that art so fayr and ful of grace,
- Be myn advocat in that heighe place
- Ther-as withouten ende is songe ‘Osanne,’
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Thou Cristes mooder, doghter dere of Anne!
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- And of thy light my soule in prison lighte,
- That troubled is by the contagioun
- Of my body, and also by the wighte
- Of erthly luste and fals affeccioun;
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O haven of refut, o salvacioun
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- Of hem that been in sorwe and in distresse,
- Now help, for to my werk I wol me dresse.
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- Yet preye I yow that reden that I wryte,
- Foryeve me, that I do no diligence
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This ilke storie subtilly to endyte;
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- For both have I the wordes and sentence
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Of him that at the seintes reverence
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The storie wroot, and folwe hir legende,
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And prey yow, that ye wol my werk amende.
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Interpretacio nominis Cecilie, quam ponit frater Iacobus Ianuensis in Legenda Aurea.
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FIRST wolde I yow the name of seint Cecilie
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- Expoune, as men may in hir storie see,
- It is to seye in English ‘hevenes lilie,’
- For pure chastnesse of virginitee;
- Or, for she whytnesse hadde of honestee,
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And grene of conscience, and of good fame
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The sote savour, ‘lilie’ was hir name.
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- Or Cecile is to seye ‘the wey to blinde,’
- For she ensample was by good techinge;
- Or elles Cecile, as I writen finde,
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Is ioyned, by a maner
conioininge
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- Of ‘hevene’ and ‘Lia’; and heer, in figuringe,
- The ‘heven’ is set for thoght of holinesse,
- And ‘Lia’ for hir lasting bisinesse.
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- Cecile may eek be seyd in this manere,
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‘Wanting of blindnesse,’ for hir grete light
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- Of sapience, and for hir thewes clere;
- Or elles, lo! this maydens name bright
- Of ‘hevene’ and ‘leos’ comth, for which by right
- Men mighte hir wel ‘the heven of peple’ calle,
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Ensample of gode and wyse werkes alle.
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- For ‘leos’ ‘peple’ in English is to seye,
- And right as men may in the hevene see
- The sonne and mone and sterres every weye,
- Right so men gostly, in this mayden free,
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Seyen of feith the magnanimitee,
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- And eek the cleernesse hool of sapience,
- And sondry werkes, brighte of excellence.
- And right so as thise philosophres wryte
- That heven is swift and round and eek brenninge,
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Right so was fayre Cecilie the whyte
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- Ful swift and bisy ever in good werkinge,
- And round and hool in good perseveringe,
- And brenning ever in charitee ful brighte;
- Now have I yow declared what she highte.
Here biginneth the Seconde Nonnes Tale, of the lyf of Seinte Cecile.
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THIS mayden bright Cecilie, as hir lyf seith,
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- Was comen of Romayns, and of noble kinde,
- And from hir cradel up fostred in the feith
- Of Crist, and bar his gospel in hir minde;
- She never cessed, as I writen finde,
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Of hir preyere, and god to love and drede,
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- Biseking him to kepe hir maydenhede.
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- And when this mayden sholde unto a man
- Y-wedded be, that was ful yong of age,
- Which that y-cleped was Valerian,
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And day was comen of hir mariage,
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- She, ful devout and humble in hir corage,
- Under hir robe of gold, that sat ful fayre,
- Had next hir flesh y-clad hir in an heyre.
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And whyl the organs maden melodye,
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To god alone in herte thus sang she;
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- ‘O lord, my soule and eek my body gye
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Unwemmed, lest that I confounded be:’
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And, for his love that deyde upon a tree,
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Every seconde or thridde day she faste,
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Ay biddinge in hir orisons ful faste.
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- The night cam, and to bedde moste she gon
- With hir housbonde, as ofte is the manere,
- And prively to him she seyde anon,
- ‘O swete and wel biloved spouse dere,
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Ther is a conseil, and ye wolde it here,
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- Which that right fain I wolde unto yow seye,
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So that ye swere ye shul me nat biwreye.’
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- Valerian gan faste unto hir swere,
- That for no cas, ne thing that mighte be,
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He sholde never-mo biwreyen here;
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- And thanne at erst to him thus seyde she,
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‘I have an angel which that loveth me,
- That with greet love, wher-so I wake or slepe,
- Is redy ay my body for to kepe.
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And if that he may felen, out of drede,
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- That ye me touche or love in vileinye,
- He right anon wol slee yow with the dede,
- And in your yowthe thus ye shulden dye;
- And if that ye in clene love me gye,
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He wol yow loven as me, for your clennesse,
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- And shewen yow his Ioye and his brightnesse.’
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- Valerian, corrected as god wolde,
- Answerde agayn, ‘if I shal trusten thee,
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Lat me that angel se, and him biholde;
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And if that it a verray angel be,
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- Than wol I doon as thou hast preyed me;
- And if thou love another man, for sothe
- Right with this swerd than wol I slee yow bothe.’
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- Cecile answerde anon right in this wyse,
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‘If that yow list, the angel shul ye see,
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So that ye trowe on Crist and yow baptyse.
- Goth forth to Via Apia,’ quod she,
- ‘That fro this toun ne stant but myles three,
- And, to the povre folkes that ther dwelle,
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Sey hem right thus, as that I shal yow telle.
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- Telle hem that I, Cecile, yow to hem sente.
- To shewen yow the gode Urban the olde,
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For secree nedes and for good entente.
- And whan that ye seint Urban han biholde,
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Telle him the wordes whiche I to yow tolde;
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- And whan that he hath purged yow fro sinne,
- Thanne shul ye see that angel, er ye twinne.’
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- Valerian is to the place y-gon,
- And right as him was taught by his lerninge,
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He fond this holy olde Urban anon
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- Among the seintes buriels lotinge.
- And he anon, with-outen taryinge,
- Dide his message; and whan that he it tolde,
- Urban for Ioye his hondes gan up holde.
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The teres from his yen leet he falle—
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- ‘Almighty lord, o Iesu Crist,’ quod he,
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‘Sower of chast conseil, herde
of us alle,
- The fruit of thilke seed of chastitee
- That thou hast sowe in Cecile, tak to thee!
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Lo, lyk a bisy bee, with-outen gyle,
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- Thee serveth ay thyn owene thral Cecile!
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For thilke spouse, that she took but now
- Ful lyk a fiers leoun, she sendeth here,
- As meke as ever was any lamb, to yow!’
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And with that worde, anon ther gan appere
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- An old man, clad in whyte clothes clere,
- That hadde a book with lettre of golde in honde,
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And gan biforn Valerian to stonde.
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- Valerian as deed fil doun for drede
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Whan he him saugh, and he up hente him tho,
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- And on his book right thus he gan to rede—
- ‘Oo Lord, oo feith, oo god with-outen mo,
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Oo Cristendom, and fader of alle also,
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Aboven alle and over al everywhere’—
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Thise wordes al with gold y-writen were.
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Whan this was rad, than seyde this olde man,
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‘Levestow this thing or no? sey ye or nay.’
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‘I leve al this thing,’ quod Valerian,
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‘For sother thing than this, I dar wel say,
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Under the hevene no wight thinke may.’
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Tho vanisshed the olde man, he niste where,
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And pope Urban him cristened right there.
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- Valerian goth hoom, and fint Cecilie
- With-inne his chambre with an angel stonde;
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This angel hadde of roses and of lilie
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- Corones two, the which he bar in honde;
- And first to Cecile, as I understonde,
- He yaf that oon, and after gan he take
- That other to Valerian, hir make.
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‘With body clene and with unwemmed thoght
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Kepeth ay wel thise corones,’ quod he;
- ‘Fro Paradys to yow have I hem broght,
- Ne never-mo ne shal they roten be,
- Ne lese her sote savour, trusteth me;
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Ne never wight shal seen hem with his yë,
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- But he be chaast and hate vileinyë.
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- And thou, Valerian, for thou so sone
- Assentedest to good conseil also,
- Sey what thee list, and thou shalt han thy bone.’
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‘I have a brother,’ quod Valerian tho,
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- ‘That in this world I love no man so.
- I pray yow that my brother may han grace
- To knowe the trouthe, as I do in this place.’
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- The angel seyde, ‘god lyketh thy requeste,
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And bothe, with the palm of martirdom,
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- Ye shullen come unto his blisful feste.’
- And with that word Tiburce his brother com.
- And whan that he the savour undernom
- Which that the roses and the lilies caste,
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With-inne his herte he gan to wondre faste,
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- And seyde, ‘I wondre, this tyme of the yeer,
- Whennes that sote savour cometh so
- Of rose and lilies that I smelle heer.
- For though I hadde hem in myn hondes two,
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The savour mighte in me no depper go.
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The sote smel that in myn herte I finde
- Hath chaunged me al in another kinde.’
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- Valerian seyde, ‘two corones han we,
- Snow-whyte and rose-reed, that shynen clere,
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Whiche that thyn yen han no might to see;
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- And as thou smellest hem thurgh my preyere,
- So shaltow seen hem, leve brother dere,
- If it so be thou wolt, withouten slouthe,
- Bileve aright and knowen verray trouthe.’
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Tiburce answerde, ‘seistow this to me
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- In soothnesse, or in dreem I herkne this?’
- ‘In dremes,’ quod Valerian, ‘han we be
- Unto this tyme, brother myn, y-wis.
- But now at erst in trouthe our dwelling is.’
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‘How woostow this,’ quod Tiburce, ‘in what wyse?’
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- Quod Valerian, ‘that shal I thee devyse.
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The angel of god hath me the trouthe y-taught
- Which thou shalt seen, if that thou wolt reneye
- The ydoles and be clene, and elles naught.’—
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And of the miracle of thise corones tweye
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- Seint Ambrose in his preface list to seye;
- Solempnely this noble doctour dere
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Commendeth it, and seith in this manere:
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- The palm of martirdom for to receyve,
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Seinte Cecile, fulfild of goddes yifte,
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- The world and eek hir chambre gan she weyve;
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Witnes Tyburces and Valerians shrifte,
- To whiche god of his bountee wolde shifte
- Corones two of floures wel smellinge,
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And made his angel hem the corones bringe:
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The mayde hath broght thise men to blisse above;
- The world hath wist what it is worth, certeyn,
- Devocioun of chastitee to love.—
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Tho shewede him Cecile al open and pleyn
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That alle ydoles nis but a thing in veyn;
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- For they been dombe, and therto they been deve,
- And charged him his ydoles for to leve.
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‘Who so that troweth nat this, a beste he is,’
- Quod tho Tiburce, ‘if that I shal nat lye.’
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And she gan kisse his brest, that herde this,
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- And was ful glad he coude trouthe espye.
- ‘This day I take thee for myn allye,’
- Seyde this blisful fayre mayde dere;
- And after that she seyde as ye may here:
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‘Lo, right so as the love of Crist,’ quod she,
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- ‘Made me thy brotheres wyf, right in that wyse
- Anon for myn allye heer take I thee,
- Sin that thou wolt thyn ydoles despyse.
- Go with thy brother now, and thee baptyse,
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And make thee clene; so that thou mowe biholde
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- The angels face of which thy brother tolde.’
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- Tiburce answerde and seyde, ‘brother dere,
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First tel me whider I shal, and to what man?’
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‘To whom?’ quod he, ‘com forth with right
good chere,
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I wol thee lede unto the pope Urban.’
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- ‘Til Urban? brother myn Valerian,’
- Quod tho Tiburce, ‘woltow me thider lede?
- Me thinketh that it were a wonder dede.
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- Ne menestow nat Urban,’ quod he tho,
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‘That is so ofte dampned to be deed,
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- And woneth in halkes alwey to and fro,
- And dar nat ones putte forth his heed?
- Men sholde him brennen in a fyr so reed
- If he were founde, or that men mighte him spye;
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And we also, to bere him companye—
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- And whyl we seken thilke divinitee
- That is y-hid in hevene prively,
- Algate y-brend in this world shul we be!’
- To whom Cecile answerde boldely,
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‘Men mighten dreden wel and skilfully
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- This lyf to lese, myn owene dere brother,
- If this were livinge only and non other.
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But ther is better lyf in other place,
- That never shal be lost, ne drede thee noght,
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Which goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace;
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That fadres sone hath alle thinges wroght;
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And al that wroght is with a skilful thoght,
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The goost, that fro the fader gan procede,
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Hath sowled hem, withouten any drede.
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By word and by miracle goddes sone,
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Whan he was in this world, declared here
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That ther was other lyf ther men may wone.’
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To whom answerde Tiburce, ‘o suster dere,
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Ne seydestow right now in this manere,
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Ther nis but o god, lord in soothfastnesse;
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And now of three how maystow bere witnesse?’
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‘That shal I telle,’ quod she, ‘er I go.
- Right as a man hath sapiences three,
- Memorie, engyn, and intellect also,
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So, in o being of divinitee,
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- Three persones may ther right wel be.’
- Tho gan she him ful bisily to preche
- Of Cristes come and of his peynes teche,
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- And many pointes of his passioun;
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How goddes sone in this world was withholde,
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- To doon mankinde pleyn remissioun,
- That was y-bounde in sinne and cares colde:
- Al this thing she unto Tiburce tolde.
- And after this Tiburce, in good entente,
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With Valerian to pope Urban he wente,
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- That thanked god; and with glad herte and light
- He cristned him, and made him in that place
- Parfit in his lerninge, goddes knight.
- And after this Tiburce gat swich grace,
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That every day he saugh, in tyme and space,
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- The angel of god; and every maner bone
- That he god axed, it was sped ful sone.
-
- It were ful hard by ordre for to seyn
- How many wondres Iesus for hem wroghte;
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But atte laste, to tellen short and pleyn,
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- The sergeants of the toun of Rome hem soghte,
- And hem biforn Almache the prefect broghte,
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Which hem apposed, and knew al hir entente,
- And to the image of Iupiter hem sente,
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And seyde, ‘who so wol nat sacrifyse,
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-
Swap of his heed, this is my sentence here.’
- Anon thise martirs that I yow devyse,
- Oon Maximus, that was an officere
- Of the prefectes and his corniculere,
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Hem hente; and whan he forth the seintes ladde,
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- Him-self he weep, for pitee that he hadde.
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- Whan Maximus had herd the seintes lore,
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He gat him of the tormentoures
leve,
- And ladde hem to his hous withoute more;
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And with hir preching, er that it were eve,
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- They gonnen fro the tormentours to reve,
- And fro Maxime, and fro his folk echone
- The false feith, to trowe in god allone.
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- Cecilie cam, whan it was woxen night,
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With preestes that hem cristned alle y-fere;
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- And afterward, whan day was woxen light,
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Cecile hem seyde with a ful sobre chere,
- ‘Now, Cristes owene knightes leve and dere,
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Caste alle awey the werkes of derknesse,
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And armeth yow in armure of brightnesse.
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-
- Ye han for sothe y-doon a greet bataille,
- Your cours is doon, your feith han ye conserved,
- Goth to the corone of lyf that may nat faille;
- The rightful Iuge, which that ye han served,
-
Shall yeve it yow, as ye han it deserved.’
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- And whan this thing was seyd as I devyse,
-
Men ladde
hem forth to doon the sacrifyse.
-
- But whan they weren to the place broght,
- To tellen shortly the conclusioun,
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They nolde encense ne sacrifice right noght,
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- But on hir knees they setten hem adoun
- With humble herte and sad devocioun,
-
And losten bothe hir hedes in the place.
- Hir soules wenten to the king of grace.
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This Maximus, that saugh this thing bityde,
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- With pitous teres tolde it anon-right,
- That he hir soules saugh to heven glyde
- With angels ful of cleernesse and of light,
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And with his word converted many a wight;
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For which Almachius dide him so to-bete
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With whippe of leed, til he his lyf gan lete.
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- Cecile him took and buried him anoon
- By Tiburce and Valerian softely,
- Withinne hir burying-place, under the stoon.
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And after this Almachius hastily
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- Bad his ministres fecchen openly
- Cecile, so that she mighte in his presence
- Doon sacrifyce, and Iupiter encense.
-
- But they, converted at hir wyse lore,
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Wepten ful sore, and yaven ful credence
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- Unto hir word, and cryden more and more,
- ‘Crist, goddes sone withouten difference,
-
Is verray god, this is al our sentence,
- That hath so good a servant him to serve;
-
This with o voys we trowen, thogh we sterve!’
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-
- Almachius, that herde of this doinge,
- Bad fecchen Cecile, that he might hir see,
- And alderfirst, lo! this was his axinge,
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‘What maner womman artow?’ tho quod he.
-
‘I am a gentil womman born,’ quod she.
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- ‘I axe thee,’ quod he, ‘thogh it thee greve,
- Of thy religioun and of thy bileve.’
-
- ‘Ye han bigonne your question folily,’
- Quod she, ‘that wolden two answeres conclude
-
In oo demande; ye axed lewedly.’
Skeat1900: 430
- Almache answerde unto that similitude,
- ‘Of whennes comth thyn answering so rude?’
- ‘Of whennes?’ quod she, whan that she was freyned,
- ‘Of conscience and of good feith unfeyned.’
-
-
Almachius seyde, ‘ne takestow non hede
Skeat1900: 435
-
Of my power?’ and she answerde him this—
- ‘Your might,’ quod she, ‘ful litel is to drede;
- For every mortal mannes power nis
- But lyk a bladdre, ful of wind, y-wis.
-
For with a nedles poynt, whan it is blowe,
Skeat1900: 440
- May al the boost of it be leyd ful lowe.’
-
- ‘Ful wrongfully bigonne thou,’ quod he,
- ‘And yet in wrong is thy perseveraunce;
- Wostow nat how our mighty princes free
-
Han thus comanded and maad ordinaunce,
Skeat1900: 445
- That every cristen wight shal han penaunce
- But-if that he his cristendom withseye,
- And goon al quit, if he wol it reneye?’
-
- ‘Your princes erren, as your nobley dooth,’
-
Quod tho Cecile, ‘and with a wood sentence
Skeat1900: 450
-
Ye make us gilty, and it is nat sooth;
- For ye, that knowen wel our innocence,
- For as muche as we doon a reverence
- To Crist, and for we bere a cristen name,
-
Ye putte on us a cryme, and eek a blame.
Skeat1900: 455
-
- But we that knowen thilke name so
- For vertuous, we may it nat withseye.’
- Almache answerde, ‘chees oon of thise two,
- Do sacrifyce, or cristendom reneye,
-
That thou mowe now escapen by that weye.’
Skeat1900: 460
- At which the holy blisful fayre mayde
- Gan for to laughe, and to the Iuge seyde,
-
- ‘O Iuge, confus in thy nycetee,
- Woltow that I reneye innocence,
-
To make me a wikked wight?’ quod she;
Skeat1900: 465
- ‘Lo! he dissimuleth here in audience,
-
He stareth and woodeth in his advertence!’
- To whom Almachius, ‘unsely wrecche,
- Ne woostow nat how far my might may strecche?
-
-
Han noght our mighty princes to me yeven,
Skeat1900: 470
- Ye, bothe power and auctoritee
- To maken folk to dyen or to liven?
- Why spekestow so proudly than to me?’
- ‘I speke noght but stedfastly,’ quod she,
-
‘Nat proudly, for I seye, as for my syde,
Skeat1900: 475
- We haten deedly thilke vyce of pryde.
-
- And if thou drede nat a sooth to here,
- Than wol I shewe al openly, by right,
- That thou hast maad a ful gret lesing here.
-
Thou seyst, thy princes han thee yeven might
Skeat1900: 480
- Bothe for to sleen and for to quiken a wight;
- Thou, that ne mayst but only lyf bireve,
- Thou hast non other power ne no leve!
-
- But thou mayst seyn, thy princes han thee maked
-
Ministre of deeth; for if thou speke of mo,
Skeat1900: 485
- Thou lyest, for thy power is ful naked.’
-
‘Do wey thy boldnes,’ seyde Almachius tho,
- ‘And sacrifyce to our goddes, er thou go;
- I recche nat what wrong that thou me profre,
-
For I can suffre it as a philosophre;
Skeat1900: 490
-
- But thilke wronges may I nat endure
- That thou spekest of our goddes here,’ quod he.
- Cecile answerede, ‘o nyce creature,
- Thou seydest no word sin thou spak to me
-
That I ne knew therwith thy nycetee;
Skeat1900: 495
- And that thou were, in every maner wyse,
- A lewed officer and a veyn Iustyse.
-
- Ther lakketh no-thing to thyn utter yen
- That thou nart blind, for thing that we seen alle
-
That it is stoon, that men may wel espyen,
Skeat1900: 500
- That ilke stoon a god thou wolt it calle.
- I rede thee, lat thyn hand upon it falle,
- And taste it wel, and stoon thou shalt it finde,
- Sin that thou seest nat with thyn yen blinde.
-
-
It is a shame that the peple shal
Skeat1900: 505
- So scorne thee, and laughe at thy folye;
- For comunly men woot it wel overal,
- That mighty god is in his hevenes hye,
- And thise images, wel thou mayst espye,
-
To thee ne to hem-self mowe nought profyte,
Skeat1900: 510
- For in effect they been nat worth a myte.’
-
- Thise wordes and swiche othere seyde she,
- And he weex wroth, and bad men sholde hir lede
- Hom til hir hous, ‘and in hir hous,’ quod he,
-
‘Brenne hir right in a bath of flambes rede.’
Skeat1900: 515
- And as he bad, right so was doon in dede;
- For in a bath they gonne hir faste shetten,
-
And night and day greet fyr they under betten.
-
- The longe night and eek a day also,
-
For al the fyr and eek the bathes hete,
Skeat1900: 520
-
She sat al cold, and felede no wo,
- It made hir nat a drope for to swete.
- But in that bath hir lyf she moste lete;
-
For he, Almachius, with ful wikke entente
-
To sleen hir in the bath his sonde sente.
Skeat1900: 525
-
- Three strokes in the nekke he smoot hir tho,
- The tormentour, but for no maner chaunce
-
He mighte noght smyte al hir nekke a-two;
- And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce,
-
That no man
sholde doon man swich penaunce
Skeat1900: 530
- The ferthe strook to smyten, softe or sore,
- This tormentour ne dorste do na-more.
-
- But half-deed, with hir nekke y-corven there,
-
He lefte hir lye, and on his wey is went.
-
The cristen folk, which that aboute hir were,
Skeat1900: 535
- With shetes han the blood ful faire y-hent.
- Thre dayes lived she in this torment,
-
- And never cessed hem the feith to teche;
- That she hadde fostred, hem she gan to preche;
-
-
And hem she yaf hir moebles and hir thing,
Skeat1900: 540
- And to the pope Urban bitook hem tho,
-
And seyde, ‘I axed this at hevene king,
- To han respyt three dayes and na-mo,
- To recomende to yow, er that I go,
-
Thise soules, lo! and that I mighte do werche
Skeat1900: 545
- Here of myn hous perpetuelly a cherche.’
-
- Seint Urban, with his deknes, prively
-
The body fette, and buried it by nighte
- Among his othere seintes honestly.
-
Hir hous the chirche of seint
Cecilie highte;
Skeat1900: 550
- Seint Urban halwed it, as he wel mighte;
- In which, into this day, in noble wyse,
-
Men doon to Crist and to his seint servyse.
Here is ended the Seconde Nonnes Tale.