The complaint of God to sinful man and the answer of man / by William Lichfield ; [ed. Edv. Borgström]. Lichfield, William, -1448. Borgström, Edvard. 18 pages, ca. 36 kb University of Michigan Library Ann Arbor, Michigan 2018 CME00089 04078754 BAV4358

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 Anglia : zeitschrift für Englische philologie / ed. Eugen Einenkel. Vol. 34, p. [498]-525. [28] p. ; 24 cm. Halle a. S. Max Niemeyer 1911 Title from email of 2000-03-08 ; description based on email note. Corpus of Middle English. "Edv. Borgström."--Editor, p. 525.

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89 CME00089 CME00089 I. Owre gracious god, prynce of pite, That all this worlde fyrst began, At whose wyll all thyng behovith to be, Compleyneth hym thus to synfull man: "Thow synfull wrech, answere thou me And know thy-sylfe, yff that þou can, And thynk what I have do for the. Why forsakyst thou me & seruyst Sathan? In publishing the poem I have given the text in close accordance with the MS. and have corrected only a few mere errors of transcription. Proper names I have printed with capitals, other words, which occur in the MS. with capitals, with small letters. The punctuation is my own. 8 MS. sathan. II. Man, such a love to the i hadde; Thys worlde in VI dayes when I hit wrouȝt, Thou were the last thyng that i made, Be-cause i wolde thou wantyd noȝt; What thyng the myȝt helpe or glade, What the nedyth, schulde not be souȝt. ffull many thyngys for the i made; To thy be-hove all was i-wrouȝt. III. More-ouer i gave the souereynte, That all thyng schulde bowe the vntyll, And also i made the lyke to me And gave the konnyng & fre wyll Me to serve, that thou myȝt se To chese the gode & leve the ylle. I aske no-thyng ageyn of the But to be thy souereyn, as it is skyll. IV. And to thys thou takyst none entent; Thow wreythest a wey full onkyndly, In lust onlefull thy lyffe is lent, Thy hert be-holdyth not hevyn on hye. ffor all the gode i have the sent Vnnethe þou cannyst sey gramercye. In tyme komyng, lest thou repent, Make a-mendys, man, or thou dye." V. I, crystyn man, defoyled with synne, Receyve in conciens thys compleynt 33, 34 For I and Receyve we should have expected The and Receyved. And fell to the grounde with dolefull dyn And seyde: "lorde, mercy, souereyne seynt, I, most wrech of all mankynde, Knowlege i am thy traytor a-taynt And am in many a dydly syn; I may wele se by thy compleynt. VI. I want wordys & also wytte Of thy godenes to carpe a clause. All that i have, thou gave me hit Off thy godenesse withoutyn cause. Lorde, yf I have grevyd the & do ȝit, Thy benefyttys þou doest not withdrawe. I have deseruyd hell pytte; So have i lyved a-yenst thy lawe. VII. But, lorde, thou knowyst mannys frelnesse, How frele he is & hath be aye. ffor thowgh the soule have thy lyknes, 51 MS. thowght. The body ys lothsom erth & clay. In syn conseyved and wrechednesse And to the soule rebell allweye, ffyrst a man growyth as grasse And after welkyth as flourys or haye. VIII. Than sethen man is freell a thyng, And thy power ys so grete in kynde That thys worlde in an eyes twynklyng Thowe mayest dystroy, none may deffende. Þis is to me a grete mekyng And schall be, to my lyff is ende. Sore me repentyth my mysse lyvyng. 63 MS. Repentyth. Mercy, lorde, i wyll a-mende." IX. "Man, I haue geve the bodyly hele, That thou schuldyst spend hit in my seruyce, Thy fyve wittys & oþer fetrys feell, But what doest thou with all these? Man, all these thou spendyst in euyll ffull wykkydly in many wyse And lyvest in lustys and seruyst the devyll. ffro yere to yere thou lyst not ryse. X. Thow stodyest after nyce araye And makyst gret cost on clothyng To make the semelye, as who wolde saye Thou cannyst a-mende my makyng. Thou arayest the nycely day by daye And steryst the people to synnyng. Thy wrechyd wyll thou doest all-weye. What ende syn hath, thou thynkyst no-thyng. XI. In Noyes tyme, be-cause of syn And for lechery in especiall, What vengeance came to all mankyn? 83 MS. vngeance. Saue VIII personys drowned were all. On Sodom and Gomer thou oughtyst to have mynde, 85 MS. sodom; gomer. How i made fyre & brymston fall ffrom hevyn to men that bode þeryn. ffor syn were dystroyed both gret & smalle. XII. Man, wenyst thou my myȝt be lesse Then hit was then, or ellys I? Or wenyst thou I hate not as moch wykkydnesse 91 wykkyndnesse. As when i smote so petuouslye? Man, thy defautys loke thou redresse, 93 MS. Redresse. Whyle i the spare with my mercy, And thynk on my ryȝtwysnesse, 95 MS. Ryȝtwysnesse. And make a-mendys, or that þou dye." XIII. "I wote wele, lorde, thou ryȝtfull arte And that syn must be ponysched nedys. But oo thyng holdyth in hope my hert: Thy mercy passith my mysdedys. I wote wele, lorde, i may hit not astert; I have so do, me ought to drede. Whyle i was both hole & quarte, The to serue I toke no hede. XIV. I have mysspende my ȝong age In syn & wantonhede also. I have be lewde and lovyd to rage; A glotyn, a lechore i was, both two. Worthy I am none other wage But for to dwell in endelesse woe. A-lasse, why have i be so outrage And seruyd the fynde that is my foe? XV. But, lorde, in holy wryȝt rede we That þou forsakyst no wrechede wyȝt That leuyth hys syn & tornyth to the, And to torne to the now haue i tyȝt. ffull proude & rebell have i be, But nowe i wyll meke me with all my myȝthe, And fro hens-forward I prupose me Ageynst my owyn flesch to fyȝt. XVI. My flesche to febyll i wyll faste, My body to travyll i wyll bende, And thorowe thy grace i am not a-gaste. What sorowe or syknesse that þou me sende, To suffer hit, whyle my lyeff wyll laste, Mekely therto i wyll entende And do penance for my trespasse. Mercy, Ihesu, i wyll amende." XVII. "Man, i have send the syluer & golde And all the welth within thy wone To susteyne the & thy housolde, And with the resydue to helpe many on Thou myghtyst helpe both yong & olde That be desesyd & woe be-gon. My seruandys suffer hunger & colde, And of full lytell releyff they haue none. XVIII. And yf thou gyffe for my loue a farthyng, Thowe doyst hit with an hevy hert. In almysse daryst thou no-thyng ffor drede thou fall in-to pouerte. In vanyte & in veyne spendyng What-euer thou spendyst, full mery thou arte. Therof schalt þou geve a strayt rekenyng; At domysday thou schalt not a-stert. XIX. Then schalt thou geve a rekenyng full streyt How thou comyst be thy gode, ych dele, Whethyr by trouth or be dysseyte, And how thou spendyst hit, evyll or wele. None other grace thou after wayte; As thou hast do, so schalt thou fele, And then thy wylys & thy dysseyte They schall the helpe neuer a dele. XX. But a clene consiens schall þat day More profyt & by more set by Than all the mukke & the monye That euer was vnder the skye. Then schall not helpe to plete ne pray, ffor as ryȝt is, so deme schall I. 158 MS. Ryȝt. And therfore, man, whyle thou maye, Make a-mendys, or that thou dye." XXI. "I wote wele, lorde, fro yere to yere So gretly grevyd the i have That, but yf thy mercy were, I wolde my motheris wombe had be my grave. 164 MS. probably welde. ffor what profityth my lyvyng here, But yf i do so þat thou wylt me saue? Now, Ihesu, as thou bouȝtyst me dere, Let me not dwell in hell caue. XXII. My waste expens i wyll with-drawe, ffor waste e[x]pens the[y] callyd may be, 170 MS. epens the. ffor they were spendyd my bost to blowe And my name to bere by lond and se. But be reson i may wele knowe There byn full many in my contre That no-thyng knowe me, as i trowe, Ne neuyr ȝyt hard speke of me. XXIII. ffondly haue i wrought in many wyse, ffor i myght have gete me moch mede, Had I hit spendyd in goddys seruice On men desesyd & almysdede. But, lorde, thorow thy grace i wyll aryse. ffor haue i and myne oure bare nede, Wyth the remenaunt, lorde, at thy deuyse Pore men i wyll cloth & fede. XXIV. Sykmen that lyen in godys bondys, That have no syluer for to spende, And prisonerys, boundyn fote & handys, I wyll them vysite & to them entende. And when i se how hit with them stondys, Such as i have I wyll them sende And dyspose hit with myne owyn handys. Mercy, Ihesu, I wyll amende." XXV. "Man, yf thou wylt amendys make, Do thy almysse of thyne owen gode And restore a-yen that is mystake, And ellys thy almys doth the no bote. ffor and thou ontruly from on take And ther-with fyndyst other þer fode, Such sacryfice I forsake. Hyt is to me as bytter as sote. XXVI. Yff thou the pore people opresse With falshede & with fleyȝtys also Or with any dysseyte, more or lesse, In trust of almysse that þou wylt doe, Then somme the curse & some the blesse, But whom schall I here of these twoe? But therfore, man, and thou wylt have grace, Hate all falshede & go ther-fro. XXVII. The mouthys that thy clothys etyn, And þou lettyst pore men go bare, The ruste that thy syluer fretyth, Thy godys that euyll getyn are, Thy drynk that souryth, & moulyd mete Where-with the pore myȝth wele fare, Hit cryeth on the venianse grete The forto spyll, but yf i spare. XXVIII. With-holdyng the hyre, ageynst the ryȝth, Of thy seruantys vengeance doth crye. Man, ofte-tymys thou me be-hyȝth Thou woldyst amende & leve folye. Thou spekyst fayr both day & nyȝth And brekyst comenant contynuellye. But, man, be ware, whyle thou myȝth, And make amendys, or thou dye." XXIX. "Now, swete lorde, what schall i saye? I have not holde that i have hyȝth. But i greve the gretly euery day And do not as I am in det. I wolde do wele, but weleawaye! With enmyes i am so be-set That, when i wolde the plese & pray, My flesch is the fyrste that wyll me let. XXX. And euer the fatter that I hit fede, The more frescher hit is my foe, And euer i fynde hit false at nede. Alasse for sorowe, what schall i doe? Some tyme the fynde wyll batell bydde. Oure gostly enmye he is also. But, lorde, i wyll the love & drede And fyȝth a-geynst my gostly foe. XXXI. But when I enforce me other-whylys And thynk to lyve a full trew lyeff And forsake falshede & gylys, Then the worlde byddyth me batell ryeff. 244 The first letter of ryeff indistinct in the MS. And but yf i vse wrenchis & wylis, Some men sayn i schall not thryve, And some at me laughis, & some smylys, And thus they holde me a kynde caytyffe. XXXII. But, lorde, i wyll with-stonde all thys And forsake falshede withoutyn ende And restore that i have take a-mysse And pay my dettys fayre & hynde. And when i haue geue ech man hys, As reson is, so wyll i spende And geve my almesse that nede is. Mercy, lorde, I wyll amende." XXXIII. "Man, I have send the kyndly syght Of vnderstondyng, reson, & wytte To rule thy lyffe be reson & ryȝth. And also thou hast holy wryȝth; That schall the schew gostly lyȝth To be ware of syn & fle hit And in what wyse thou plese me myȝth, 263 MS. In. The which have geve the lyef & wytte. XXXIV. Worldly ryches, royall repayr, Jewellys & thyngys of royalte, ffysches, bestys, & byrdys of the ayer, All thys the thynkyth royall to se. And yf thyngys þat schall perysch & apeyr Onto thy syȝth so plesyng be, Wele mayest thou wite i am full fayr, Of whom euery thyng hath hys beute. XXXV. But, man, as thou witlesse were, Thow lokyst euer dovnward as a beste. Hit hevyeth the of me to here. ffoule spekyng ys to the a feste. I comfort the and make the chere, And thou a-yenward lovyst me leste. I call the to me yere by yere; Thow wylt not come at my requeste. XXXVI. As i were thy foo, thou fro me fleeste. I folowe the fast & on the crye. Thou wrappyst the with vaniteys And thynkyst my spekyng but folye. ffor thyng that nought is þou wylt lese My joye that lastyth endeleslye. 286 MS. Joye. Now leve thy syn & vertu chese And make amendys, or thou dye." XXXVII. "Swete Ihesu, none answere I can But ofte crye mercy with hert stabyll. 290 MS. stapyll. Alasse for woe, why is a man Wors than a beste on-resonabyll? All bestys, sethyn thys worlde be-gan, In kyndly worchyngys be durabyll. But many synnys have i done That be both cursyd & dampnabyll. XXXVIII. I was made to know my maker And to love hym above althyng. But i, wrech, was neuer waker To take kynde knowing of my kyng. To tryfyllys grete tent have i take. A song of sorowe now may i syng. And yf i had syn for-sake, Of Kryste i schulde have better knowyng. XXXIX. My gostly eyen be full of duste, Cursyd couetyse hath blynded me, And they be blodeschote with fleschly luste, That hevynly thyngys i can not se. But, lor[d], þough i have be onjuste, 309 MS. lor; on Juste. With the helpe of thy benyngnite I hope to haue a-wey the ruste With penaunce fro my gostly ye. XL. And as i wolde be-fore this My wyt in worldly thyngys spende, ffrom hens-forwarde my purpose ys To lerne thy lawe to my lyvys ende. To know thy comaundmentys And them to kepe i wyll me bende, And ther, as I have done a-mysse, Mercy, Ihesu, i wyll amende." XLI. "Man, yff thow wylt my mercy gete Thorough my passion of grete vertu, Why sesyst þow me not to bete? Ech day on crosse thow doyst me newe With thy othys many and gret. As a trayter to me thou art ontrewe. And but yf thou wylt thy othes let, Ellys full sore hit schall the rewe. XLII. No lym of me thou forberyst. Why doyst thow evyll ageynste goode Wyth thy othes þat thou sweryst? fforto a-venge thyne ovyn mode Wyth thy tonge þou me al to-teryst, 333 MS. alto teryst. As thou were madde or wode. Wyth thy onkyndnes þou me more deryst Than they that rent me on the rode. XLIII. Thou hast more pyte on-to thy too, Yf hit be hurt and a lytyll blede, Than thou hast for all the woo That i suffyrde for thy mysdede. And whan thou art tauȝt & covncelyd also That thou schuldyst not swere but whan hit is nede, A-non thou gevyst a story þerto, And to my hestys thou takyst none hede. XLIV. Loude lesyngys for me thou makyst Some tyme to wyn an halpeny, What tyme to wytnesse þou me takyst, And ȝyt thou lyest wetyngly. In byinge & sellyng lesyngys þou makyst, And in idyll and fals thou sweryst me by, 350 MS. Idyll. And so to hell the wey thou takyst. Man, make amendys, or thou dye." XLV. "Now sore I sygh, and wele i may, ffor i a wrech am so cursyd That i do the on the crosse ech day With grete othys and werkys werst And moch more the greve than they That on the rode sloughyn the fryst. ffor had they knowe the, i dare wele say, To do the to the deth they had not dryst. XLVI. But I know it be my beleve That thou art god omnipotent, And yf i sece not the to greve, I am worthy to be schent. 364 On fol. 476 where this line is also to be found, the MS. has schente. How mayste þou, lorde, suffer me to meve! All creaturys owtyn me to turment. Hit is mervell I fall not ynto myscheyffe And that i am not kyllyd, drownyd, or brent. XLVII. The erth opyned & swalowed all quyk As Datan & Abyron for her syn. 370 MS. datan; abyron. And i am worse, hit is full lyke, ffor the evyll custome that i am yn. In dedly syn men dyen now thyk. 'What profyteth this worlde to wyn And lese ther soulys?' seyeth holy wryȝth. ffor they schall dwell yn endles pyne. XLVIII. I have be lewde & do full ylle And for no covncell wolde amende, But i wolde lyve after my wylle. Hyt was the beste som tyme i wende. I was in the brode weye to helle And toke none hede to my laste ende, And thus i was in poynt to spyll. Mercy, Ihesu, i wyll amende." XLIX. "Man, on thy-selfe hit schall be-longe, Yf hyt so be thy soule be spylte. ffor-geve thou them that do the wronge, And i wyll forgeve the thy gylte. And yf thou be of hert so stronge That in no wyse for-geve thou wylte, But venge the with hert & tong, I wyll not for-geve the thy gylte. L. I prayde for them that me desesyd, But i myȝth have dampned them for aye, And yf thou be a lytyll dysplesyde, Thowe cursyst & bannyst nyȝth & day. ffor no prechyng wylt þou be pesyde, But to venge the is thi wyll allway. ffull sore schulde thy enmyes be desesyd, And thou myȝthtyst oner them, as i onyr the may. LI. A, man, do wey thy malysse & cese of thy syn And kepe thy charite in euery chaunce, And then my mercy schall thou wyn, So þat thou do tru penaunce. Loke thy hert be contrite withyn And sory for thy mysgouernaunce. What profyteth schryvyng of thy syn, But yf thou in hert have repentaunce? 408 MS. Repentaunce. LII. Thou scornyst, & penaunce doest þou none, But yf thou forthynk þy syn full sore. ffor worldly losse thou canst make none, But þou synnyst & sorowest nothyng þerfore. And yf thy body be woe begone, What bitter medycyne þat geve the were, With gode wyll þow woldyst take hit anone Thy bodyly helth forto restore. LIII. Withoute cause full ofte art thou wroth On-to thy freendys onskylfully, When they the tech & covncell both To leve the wrath & thy envy. 420 MS. Envy. Thow dredyst not god nor sparyst none othe, And all ys to mayntene thyne owen foly. Thou wylt be loste, be i neuer so loth. But þou make a-mendys, or thou dye." LIV. "Lorde, I se wele, what-evyr i know & ken And speke with angelys tonge clere, And though i dele among pore men My worldly godys all yn fere And geve my body forto bren ffor the love of Kryste þat bouȝth me dere, Ȝyt all thys profytyth to me nothyng, In charite but yf I were. LV. And I wote wele, lorde, hit is more plesyng To the, Ihesu, my souereyn lorde, That i love the above althyng And be in charite & accorde With all my neybores, olde & yng, Then for to faste & go wolwarde, And of all the massys that prestys syng, But i be in charite, i gete no parte. LVI. Lorde, for oure sake xxxti yere & moo ffull gret travayll in erth thou had. Thy mother & thy apostolys also In grete dyseese ther lyffe they ledde. ffull gret tribulacion & moch woe All thy holy martyrys hadde. With such a company hit were gode to goo, And of that lyuerey we schulde be cladde. LVII. And sethen þy derlyng, that with the dwell, Had such dyseese here in this lyeff, What hart may thynk or tunge may tell The payn, the anguysch, & the stryeff That damnede men schall have in hell, Ther endles woo is & sorow-full ryeff? 454 MS. Ryeff. I wole forsake my synnys fele, And to a dyscrete preste i wyll me schryeff. LVIII. In trew penaunce is my entent ffrom hens-forwarde my tyme to spende And kepe oure lordys comaundment, And þerto i wyll a-tende. All ryches & royall rent, 461 MS. Royall. What may they helpe me at my ende? But yf i serue god, I am but schent. Mercy, Ihesu, I wyll amende." LIX. "Man, turne not to thy syn ageyn, But with sorowfull hert thy syn þou tell, And to do penaunce loke thou be fayn, As thy schryft-father wyll the covnceyll. And loke thou restore a-geyn ffals gotyn gode that thou with melleste. Man, thou moste nedys suffer peyn ffor thy synnys here or some-where ellys. LX. Hit is impossyble, & may not be, 473 MS. Impossyble. The to passe fro joy to joy vpryȝth. 474 MS. Joy (in both instances). Thow moste take the crosse & folow me, Yf thou wylt to my joy vp-stye; 476, 480 MS. Joy. That is to sey, penance and aduersite, What-so-euyr comyth, suffer hit paciently, And hate syn & fro hit fle, And thow schalt have joy endlesly. LXI. Do penance, whyle þou may, Lest sodenly i take vengeance. I have a-beyden the day by day, Be-cause i wolde þou dyd penance. And i am more redy alwey fforto forgyffe thy mysgouernance Then thow art mercy for to pray, ffor my wyll is the to a-vaunce. LXII. When thou hast all thy frendys asayed, Thow schalt fynde no frende lyke to me. And thou wylt amende, as thou hast sayde, A-yenst a-mendys wyll I not be. Do trewe penaunce, & I holde me payde, And fro endles payn i wyll make the fre. Man, for thy love my lyve I leyde. What freende wolde do so for the? LXIII. Man, do awey thy wykkydnesse And kepe my byddyngys by & by, And thow schalt have in my paleys Worschyp without velany. No pouert, but all rychesse, Helth & wysdom endlesly 502 MS. wysdon. Thowe haue schalt plente & all godenesse And lyve in joy and neuyr dye." 504 MS. In Joy. LXIV. "Gramercy, Ihesu, crop and rote Of thy godenesse, þat nevyr schall fayll, But evyr is redy to be oure bote. And oure gostly enmy us asayll, And i wyll fall dovn to thy fote And pray the to helpe me in my batayll. ffor a-geynst all balys þou art bote And makyst us strong in gostly travayll. LXV. And I se wele, lorde, thou lovyst vs ffor oure profyte & not for thyne. ffor what were thou the wers, Ihesus, Though all we were in endlesse pyne? Alasse, why be we so vicious And so onkynde to hym ageyn That is oure lorde so gracious And for us suffyrd so moch payn? LXVI. Lorde, when i thenke on thy pouerte And howe wylfull thou were & fayn To suffer for vs woundys smert, To sle oure synnys thou were slayn, Harder than iren is that hert That hath no pite of thy peyn. And euer the kynder that thow art, The more onkynde be we ageyn. LXVII. Lorde, gyff vs grace amendys to make, ffor of my-sylf me fayleth power, And that i may my synnys forsake And do gode dedys, whyle I am here, And in this worlde sende me wo & wrake, ffor hit is but ryȝth that hit so were. Who that hath no dyseese here, he may quake, ffor them that þou lovyst þou chastysest here. LXVIII. Now, gracious Ihesu, of thy goodnesse Be oure comford, where-euer we wende, And in all our dedys vs helpe & wysse With the grace that thou wylt vs sende, That we may come onto thy blysse, That euer s[c]hall last withoutyn ende, That to thy chosyn ordeyned ys Þat leve there synne & them amende." Explicit tractatus compilatus per Magistrum Willelmum lychefelde doctorem Theologie. STOCKHOLM. EDV. BORGSTRÖM.