Þe Desputisoun Bitven þe Bodi and þe Soule / herausgegeben von Wilhelm Linow. The debate between body and soul. 82 pages, ca. 148 kb University of Michigan Library Ann Arbor, Michigan 2018 CME00130 uc1.c005359310

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 Þe Desputisoun Bitven þe Bodi and þe Soule / herausgegeben von Wilhelm Linow. The debate between body and soul. Linow, Wilhelm. vi, 209 p. Erlangen : A. Deichert (G. Böhme), 1889. Erlanger Beiträge zur englischen Philologie ;1. Mode of access: Internet.

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Auchinleck Manuscript, Bl. 31 v. Sp. 2.

 Þe desputisoun bitven þe bodi and þe soule. 1 (1). Als y lay in a winters niȝt In a droupening bifor þe day, Me þouȝt y seiȝe a selli siȝt, A bodi opon a bere lay; He hadde ben a modi kniȝt And litel serued god to pay; Forlorn he had his liues liȝt; Þe gost moued out and wald oway. 2 (2). When þe gost it schuld go, It biwent and wiþstode, Biheld þe bodi þat it com fro, Wiþ reweful chere and dreri mode; And sayd: "Allas and walewo! Þou fikel flesche, þou fals blod! Whi liistow stinking so, Þat whilom was so wilde and wode? 3 (3). Þou þat were ywont to ride So fair on hors in and out, A queint kniȝt, ykid ful wide, Als a lioun fers and prout, Wher is now þi michel pride, And þi lede þat was so loude? Whi liistow now so bare of side, Ypricked in a pouer schroude? 4 (4). Whare ben al þine worþliche wede, Þine somers wiþ þine riche bed, Þi proude palfrais and þi stede, Þat þou about in dester led? Þine haukes þat were won[t] to grede, And þine grehoundes þat þou fed? Me þenke[þ] þine [god] be ful gnede, Now alle þine frendes be fro þe fled. 5 (5). Whar ben þine markes and þine poundes, Þi folk and þi fair fyȝe, Þi riche tresour bi rof and grounde, Þi briȝt broches, ring and beiȝe? Who durst þe bede stroke or wounde, When þi baner was rered on heiȝe? Yuel artow proued in a stounde, Þi tayl is cutted þe ful neiȝe. 6 (7). Whare be þine castels and þine tours, Þine chaumbers and þine heiȝe halle, Þat paynted were wiþ prout flours, And þine riche robes alle? Þine quiltes and þi couertours, Þi cendel and þi purpelpalle? Wreche, ful derk it is þi bour, To morn þou schalt þerin falle. 7 (6). Whare be þine cokes snelle, Þat schuld go to grayþe þi mete Wiþ swot spices, for to smelle, Þat þou were neuer ful to frete, To make þi foule flesche to swelle, Þat wilde wormes schal now ete? And ich haue þe peyne of helle Þurch þi glotonie ygete. 8 (8). Whare be þine glewemen, þat schuld þe glewe Wiþ harp and fiþel and tabourbete? Trumpours, þat þine trumpes blewe? Hem þou ȝeue ȝiftes grete, Riche robes, held and newe, For to glewe þe, þer þou sete. Tregetours þat were vntrewe, Of þe hye hadde grete biȝete. 9 (9). For to bere þi word ful wide, And maky of þe rime and raf, Riche men for pamp and pride Largeliche of þine þou ȝaf. Þe pouer ȝede al bi side, Euer þou hem ouerhaf; And ȝif þai com in þine vnride, Þai were ystriken wiþ a staf. 10 (10). Of þe pouer þou it nam, Þat mani a glotoun ete and drank; Þou no rouȝtest neuer of wham, No who þerfore sore swank. Þe riche was welcom þer he cam, Þe pouer was beten, þat he stank; Now alle is gon in godes gram, And þou hast, wreche, litel þank. 11 (11). To morwe anon as it is day, Out of kiþ fram alle þine kin Alle bare þou schalt wende away, And leuen al þine warldes winne. Fram þe palays þat þou in lay Wiþ wormes is now ytaken þin in; Þi bour is bilt wel cold in clay, Þe rof schal take to þi chin. 12 (12). Þou þat neuer in alle þi liue Of þis warldes mock miȝtest be sad, Now schaltow haue at al þi siþe Bot seuen fet, vnneþe þat. Þou miȝt yse þe soþe and kiþe, Þat al is lorn þat þou biȝat. No schaltow neuer make þe bliþe, Þer oþer men schal make hem glad. 13 (13). Of alle þat þou togiders drouȝ, Þou were harder þan þe flint; Swiche schal make him large anouȝ, Þat þou wel litel haddest ymint. Þou þat madest it so touȝ, Al þi bobaunce is now ystint. Ich may wepe þat þou bi louȝ, For al mi joie for þe is tint. 14 (14). Þi fals air schal be ful fain, Þi fair fe to vnderfo; Now wele is him þis day ysein, Þat litel gode schal for ous do. He no wold nouȝt ȝiue oȝain, To bring ous into rest and ro, Of alle þi lond an acre or tvain, Þat þou so sinfuly com to. 15 (15). Þi wiif no wil no more wepe; To niȝt no miȝt he haue no rest, No for fele þouȝtes slepe, To wite what maner miȝt be best In þi stede for to crepe; Bi þis hye wot an oþer al prest. Be þou to morwen doluen depe, Anon þai schal be trewþefest. 16 (16). Now schul þine sekatours seck Al þi gode, when þou art ded; Al togider schal go to wrek, Haue men deled a litel bred. Ich man pike, what he may skek, Hors and swine, schepe and net, Gold and siluer, ne þar us rec; Ne be we boþe bitauȝt þe qued? 17 (17). Now may þine neiȝbours liue, Wreche, þatow hast wo ywrouȝt. Þou stintest neuer wiþ þem to striue, Til þai were to pouert brouȝt. He was þi frende þat wald þe ȝiue, And þi fo pat ȝaf þe nouȝt. Þe curs is comen þat now wil cliue, Þat mani a man haþ þe bisouȝt. 18 (18). Now beþ þe bedes on þe liȝt, Wreche, þer y se þe lie, Þat mani a man bad day and niȝt, And lay on her knes to crie. Allas! þat ich wreched wiȝt Schal so gilteles abie Þine misdedes and þine vntiȝt, And for þe hard paines drie." 19 (19). Corpus respondit anime. When þe gost wiþ reweful chere Hadde ymaked þis michel mone, Þe bodi þer it lay on bere, A gastlich þing as it was on, Lift vp his heued opon þe swere; As it were sike it gan to gron, And seyd: "Wheþer þou art mi fere, Mi gost þat is fro me gon?" 20 (20). It seyd: "Wheþer þou be mi gast, Þat me abreidest of min vnhap? Vncomli, me þouȝt, min hert brast, When deþ so diolfuli me drap. Y nam þe first, no worþ þe last, Þat haþ ydronken of þat nap; Nis non so kene þat he is cast, Þe prodest arst may kepe his clap. 21 (21). Wele y wot þat y schal rote; So dede Alisaunder and Cesar, Þat no man miȝt of hem finde a mot, Ne of þe moder þat hem bar. Wirmes ete her white þrote, So schal [hye] mine, wele am y war; When deþ so scharpliche schet his schot, Þer nis non [helpe] oȝain char. 22 (22). Per y seiȝe boþe clerk and kniȝt And old man bi gates go, Y was a ȝong man and liȝt, And euer wende to liui so. Halles heiȝe and bours briȝt Y hadde ybilt and mirþes mo, Mi woning here wel wele ydiȝt, And now deþ haþ me dempt þerfro. 23 (23). Mi woning here wel worþli wrouȝt, And wende to liui ȝeres fele; Wodes, wones, watres y bouȝt Wiþ al þat ich miȝt pike and spele. Þe world is torned toȝain mi þouȝt, When deþ, þat stilly can stele, Haþ me dempt oway wiþ nouȝt, And oþer welden alle mi wele. 24 (24) Soule, ȝif þou it me wilt atwite, Þat we schul be boþe yspilt, Ȝif þou hast schame and gret despite, Al it is þine owhen gilt. Y þe say at wordes lite Wiþ riȝt resoun, ȝif þatow wilt: Þou berst þe blame, and y go quite, Þou scholdest fram schame ous haue yschilt. 25 (25). For god þe schope after his schaft, And ȝaf þe boþe wit and skille; In þi lokeing y was laft, To wissi after þine owhen wille. I no couþe neuer of wichecraft, No wist what was gode no ille, Bot as a bodi doumbe and daft, As þou tauȝtest me þertille. 26 (26). Seþen y was tauȝt þe to ȝeme, A witteles best as y was born, And for to serui þe to queme, Boþe an euen and eke a morn. Þou þat couþest dedes deme, Þou schult haue ben war biforn; Of me, soule, þou haddest to ȝeme; Wiþ þiself þou art forlorn." 27 (27). Iterum anima corpori. Þe soule seyd: "Bodi, be stille! Who has þe lerned al þis witt? Þou castest me þis wordes grille, And list ybollen as a bit. What wenestow, wreche, þei þou fille Wiþ þi foule flesche a pit, Of al þine dedes þou hast don ille, Þat þou so liȝteliche schal go quit? 28 (28). What! Wenestow, wreche, to gete griþ, Þei þou leȝe loken in clay? And þei þou roti pil and piþ, And blowe wiþ þe winde oway, Ȝete þou schalt com, lim and liþ, Oȝain to me at domesday, Stond at court, and y þe wiþ, To kepe þere our hard pay. 29 (29). For in þi lokeing y was laft, For to do astow me bede; Þe bridel wiþ þe teþ þou lauȝt, And dedest ay oȝain mi red. To schame and sorwe it was þi drauȝt, To vilanie and wickedhed; Ȝern y chidde and wiþ þe fauȝt, And euer þou toke þine owhen red. 30 (30). Y bad þe þenke in soulendes, Messes, matines and euensong; Þou seyd, þou most don oþer dedes, For þat was ydel mannes gong. To wode or to feld þou ȝedest, Or to court, to deme wrong; Bot for pride or gret medes Litel gode þou dest among. 31 (31). Who may more tresoun do Or his lord better bigine, Þan he þat al his trist is to, And is wiþ him as owhen hyne? Þo þat þou were þriuen and þro, And knewe al werkes mine, Þi selue þou purvaidest rest and ro, And damnedest me to hellepine. 32 (32). Now may wilde bestes ren And woni vnder linde and lef, Foules fle bi feld and fen, Seþen þi wreched hert clef. Þine eiȝen er blinde and may nouȝt kenne, Þi mouþe is doumbe, þin er is def; And loþly list on me to grenne, —————————— 33 (33). Þar nis no leuedi, briȝt of ble, Þat wele was wont of þe to lete, Þat o niȝt wald ly bi þe, For þing þou miȝtest hir bihete. Þou art vnsemly for to se, Vncomly for to kis swete; Þou no hast no frende þat nil þe fle, And þou com starteling in þe strete." 34 (34). Corpus respondit anime. Þan þe bodi bigan to say: "Soule, þou hast wrong ywis, Al þi gilt on me to lay, Þat þou hast lorn heuenblis. Whar was y bi wode or way, Sat or stode or dede ouȝt mis, Þat y no was euer vnder þine ay? Wele þou wost and soþe it is. 35 (35). Or whare ȝede ich vp and doun, Þat y no bare þe at mi bac, And was þine hors fram toun to toun, At eueri stede ymake þe mak? Ful wele þou wistest of mi roun, What ich dede or what y spac; Bi skil þou art ybrouȝt adoun, And y go quite wiþouten lac. 36 (36). For al þe while þou was mi fere, Ich hadde alle þat me was nede, Ich miȝt yse, speke and here, Ȝede and rode, drank and ete. Loþliche ischaunched is mi chere, Seþþen þe time þat þou me lete; Def and doumbe y ligge on bere, Y no may stir hond no fet. 37 (50). Ac ȝiue ichadde ben a nete, Oþer a schepe, oþer a swine, Þat ȝede about and drank and ete, And were yslawe and passed pine, Þan hadde ich neuer ytaken kepe, No knowe þat ale fram þe wine, Þan hadde ich neuer com in helle depe, Nouþe at mi last fine." 38 (37). Iterum anima corpori. Þe soule seyd: "It is no dout, About, bodi, þou me bare; Þou mostest nedes, y was wiþout Hond and fot, y was al war. Bot as tow bar me about, Y no miȝt nouȝt do þe lest char; Þerfore mot ich nedes stoupe; So doþ he þat oþer no dar. 39 (38). In a woman were we bred And born togiders boþe to, And on o barm forsterd and fed, Ay til þou couþe speke and go. For loue softliche y þe led, No durst y neuer do þe wo; To lese þe y was fordred, Y nist whare to gete mo. 40 (39). I seiȝe þe fair of flesche and blod, Al mi loue on þe y cast; Þatow me brewe me þouȝt gode, And lete þe haue ro and rest. Þat made þe wel stern of mod And of dedes wel vnwrast; To wer wiþ þe was me no bot, Þou bar me opon þi brest. 41 (40). Glotonie and licherie, Pride and hat and coueytise, Niþe and ond and envie Oȝaines god and alle hise, In þat luste for to lye, Was þi won in al wise; Þat schal y wel dere abye, No wonder þei me sore agrise. 42 (41). Oft we were togiders þrat, What we schuld boþe haue; Litel hede tok þou of þat, When þou seiȝe ded men in graue. Þou dest al þat þe warld þe bad, And þat þi foule flesche wold craue; And y þe suffred and dede as mad, Þou to be maister and y þi knaue." 43 (42). [Corpus respondit anime.] "Þou þat were so worþly wrouȝt, Þou seyst y maked þe mi þral? Al þat euer þe of rouȝt, Þou it dest and y forhal. And y no misdede neuer nouȝt, No y no raft, no y no stal, Of þe com euer þe first þouȝt. Abigge who so bigge schal! 44. 45 (43). Ac haddestow, so Crist it ouþe, Ȝif me hunger, þrost and cold, And chasted me, þat no gode no couþe, To bismar when þat y was bold, Swiche as y lerd in mi ȝouþe, Ich used, when þat y was old, And went at [þi] wil norþ and souþe, And lete þe haue þi wil at wold. 46 (44). To sinne þou wist it was mi kinde, As al mankinde is also, And be þis wreche worl[d] minde, And euer couayt mo and mo. Þou schust haue leten me fast binde, When y to sinne wold haue go; Bot when þe blinde lat þe blinde, In diche þai falle boþe to." 47 (45). [Iterum anima corpori.] Þan þe soule bigan to wepe, And seyd: "Bodi, allas! allas! Þat ich euer seiȝe þe ȝete, For al mi loue on þe y las. As þou louedest me þou lete, And madest me an houue of glas, And y dede þat þe þouȝt swete, And þou mi traitour euer was. 48. 49 (46). When y bad þe schrift take, And lete þine sinnes ay and o, Do penaunce, fast and wake, Þe fend seyd: 'Þou schalt nouȝt so! So ȝong þi riot to forsake, And euer to liue in sorwe and wo!' He bad þe ioie and mirþe make, And þenke to liue ȝeres mo. 50 (48). And when y bad þe lete pride, Þat þou no bere þe nouȝt so stout, Þe foule fende was þe bi side, And bad þou schust be fers and proude, And weri riche robes wide, And nouȝt as a begger in a clout, And on heiȝe hors ride Wiþ fair meine in and out. 51 (47). And when y bad þe arliche arise, And nimen of þi soule kepe, Þou seydest, þou no miȝtest in non wise For þi miri morweslepe. When ȝe þre hadde sett ȝour asise, No wonder þei y sore wepe; Ȝe ladde me bi ȝour enprise, As þe bucher doþ þe schepe. 52 (49). When þou hast ytold þi fals tale, Ay þou were oȝain me forsworn; Al þou held tretefale, Þat men told þe biforn. Þe ladde me bi doun and dale, As men doþ ox bi þe horn, Þer him schal be browe his bale, Þat his þrote schal be forsworn. 53 (51). Ac þei alle men vnder mone Ous to deme were sett on benche, On of þe paines ous schal be done, Þe lest peine no miȝt biþenche. No helpes ous non bede no bone, No may we non wiles wrenche. Hellehoundes com sone, And y no may nouȝt fram hem blenche." 54 (52). Corpus respondit anime. And when þe bodi seiȝe þe gast Þis wo and þis mone make, "Allas! it seyd, mi lif ylast, Þat y haue lived for þi sake! Þat min hert no hadde ybrast, When y was fro mi moder take, And seþþen into a pit ycast Vnto a nadder or to a snake! 55 (53). Þan hadde ich neuer ylerned, What was iuel no what was gode, No of þis warldes mok ȝerned, No paines þoled, as y now mot; Owe wher no seynt no may bere our ernd To him þat bouȝt ous wiþ his blod, In hellefire ar we be forbernd, Of sum prayer to don ous bot." 56 (54). Iterum anima corpori. "Nay, bodi, nay, now is to lat, For to pray or for to preche, Now þe wain is atte ȝat, And þe tong haþ lorn his speche. O point of our payn to abat, In alle þe warld nis no leche; Ac sikerliche we goþ o gat, Swiche is godes hard wreche. 57 (55). Ac haddestow a litel ere, While ous was togider liif ylent, When þou feldest þe sike and sere, Shriuen þe and þe fende yschent, And haue ylate a reweful tere, And bisouȝt Jhesu of amendement, Þe þortest neuer haue had fere, Þat he no wold ous grace haue sent. 58 (56). Ac þei alle þe men þat beþ a liue, Were prestes, messe for to sing, And alle widowes and alle wiue Her hondes for þe wolde wring, No miȝt telle þe paines riue, For soþe yseyd, wiþouten lesing, Seþþen we no miȝt ous for schame schriue, Þat schuld ous now to ioie bring. 59 (57). Bodi, y may no lenger duelle, To stond for to speke wiþ þe; Hellehoundes here ich ȝelle, And fendes mo þan y may se, To com to feche me to helle, And y not whider y may fle; And þou schalt com wiþ flesche and felle At domesday and wone wiþ me." 60 (58). Hadde he no raþer þis word yseyd, It wist neuer whider to go, It was yhent in a brayd Wiþ a þousand fendes and ȝete mo. And when þai hadde on him ylayd Her scharpe hokes al þo, It was in a sori playd, Ytoiled boþe to and fro. 61 (59). Sum were rogged and rowe tayled, Wiþ brode boches on her bak, Scharpe clawed and long nailed; Nas no lim wiþouten lak. Rewefully he was aseyled Wiþ many a fende, blo and blak; Merci! he cri[e]d, and litel vailed, When god wald take his hard wrak. 62 (60). Sum þe chauel al toþrast, And ȝoten in þe led al hot, And bad he schuld drink fast, And birly about al o brod. A fende þer com atte last, Maister he was, ful wele y wot, A colter glowend on him cast, Þat þurch þe hert þe point it smot. 63 (61). Glaiues glowend to him þai sett To bac, to brest, in ich a side, Þat at þe hert þe pointes mett, And made him woundes depe and wide; And þan þai asked hou þat he let His hert, þat was ful of pride; Ȝif he hadde any þing þat [men] him bett; More schame him schuld bitide. 64 (62). Worþliche wede for to were Þai seyd þat he loued best; An heui brini for to bere Al glowend on him þai kest, Wiþ hot claspes for to spere, Þat fast sat to bac and brest, And hiled al his oþer gere; A stede him com al so prest. 65 (63). Þe stede was bridled wiþ a bridel, A curssed deuel as a cot, Þat loude grad and ȝened wide, Þe blo fire fleiȝe out at his þrote; Wiþ a sadel vp to þe midside, Ful of scharp pikes yschote, As an hechel on to ride; And al was gloweand eueri grot. 66 (64). In þe sadel he was yslong, As he schuld to þe turnament; A þousand fendes on him dong, And al to peces him torent; At euerie dint þe spark outsprong, As a brond þat were forbrent; Wiþ hote speres he was ystong And wiþ þer hokes al torent. 67 (65). And when he hadde riden þat foule rode In þe sadel þer he was sett, Þai slong him doun als a tode, And hellehoundes to him lett, And breyd of him þe peces brode, Wel dolefulliche he was ygret; Þere þe foule fendes glode, Of blod men miȝt folwe þe tred. 68 (66). Þai bede he schuld hunti and blowe, And clepe forþ Bausan and Beweviis, His raches him were won[t] to knowe, He schuld sone blowe þe priis; An hundred fendes on a rowe Forþ him driue, maugre his, Til he com to þat loþli lowe, Helle, y wot, ycleped it is. 69 (67). When he com to þat foule won, Þe fendes casten vp a ȝelle; Þe erþe opened and tochon, Smok and smorþer þerout welle; Of wild fir and of bronston Seuen mile men miȝt haue þe smelle. Wel wo is þe soule bigon, Þat schal suffri þat tende del. 70 (68). And when þe soule þis siȝt yseiȝe, Whider it schuld, it cast a crie, And seyd: "Jhesu, þat art on heiȝe, And on þi schaft þou haue mercie! Þou madest me þat art so sleiȝe, Þi creatour so was y, As oþer mani þat beþ þe neiȝe, Þat þou so wele hast don by. 71 (69). Þou þat wistest al bifore, Whi madest þou me to wroþer hele, To be totogged and totore, An oþer to welden al mi wele? Þo wreches þou woldest haue forlore, Wele miȝtestow hem hadde yspele; Þat þai no had neuer be bore, To ȝiue þe——————!" 72 (70). Þan bigo—————— "Caitif, no—————— To crie to—————— No for to c—————— Þou hast f—————— Þou hast y—————— And þat schalt————— And al þat le————— 73 (71). Þe foule fend————— Bi top and tay————— And slonggen i————— Doun in to—————— Þer neuer s————— Hemself þa—————— Þe erþe ano————— Anon þe don————— 74 (72). When it wa—————— In helle it—————— On heveri—————— Opon þe b—————— To Jhesu Cr—————— Oft he cr—————— For fere—————— Com to——————— 75 (73). Y þonki—————— His mic—————— Þat sar——————— A sinful—————— Þo þat——————— To schri—————— Nas ne——————— Þat go——————— 76 (74). Jhesu þa—————— And schope—————— And wiþ—————— Of ame——————— Þine——————— In heu——————— Þi pass——————— Þerto——————— Explicit————

Laud Manuscript 108, Bl. 200 v.

 1 (1). Als i lay in a winteris nyt In a droukening bifor þe day, Vor soþe i sauȝ a selly syt, A body on a bere lay; Þat havede ben a mody knyȝt And lutel served god to payȝ; Loren he haved þe lives lyȝt; Þe gost was oute and scholde away. 2 (2). Wan þe gost it scholde go, Yt biwente and withstod, Biheold the body þere it cam fro, So serfulli with dredli mod It seide: "Weile and walawo! Wo worþe þi fleys, þi soule blod! Wreche bodi, wȝy listouȝ so, Þat ȝwilene were so wilde and wod? 3 (3). Þow þat were woned to ride Heyȝe on horse in and out, So koweynte knit, ikud so wide, As a lyun fers and proud, Ȝwere is al þi michele pride, And þi lede þat was so loud? Ȝwi listou þere so bareside, Ipricked in þat pore schroud? 4 (5). Ȝwere ben þi wurdli wedes, Þi somers with þi riche beddes, Þi proude palefreys and þi stedes, Þat þouȝ about in dester leddes? Þi faucouns þat were wont to grede, And þine houndes þat þou fedde? Me þinkeþ [þi] god is þe to gnede, Þat alle þine frend beon fro þe fledde. 5. 6 (4). Ȝwere beon þi castles and þi toures, Þi chaumbres and þi riche halles, Ipeynted with so riche floures, And þi riche robes alle? Þine cowltes and þi covertoures, Þi cendels and þi riche palles? Wrechede it is nouȝ þi bour; To moruwe þouȝ schalt þerinne falle. 7 (6). Ȝwere ben þine cokes snelle, Þat scholden gon greiþe þi mete With speces, swete for to smelle, Þat þouȝ neuere were fol of frete, To do þat foule fleys to suwelle, Þat foule wormes scholden ete? And þouȝ havest þe pine of helle With glotonye me bigete. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25 (7). For god schop þe aftir his schap, And gaf þe boþe wyt and skil; In þi loking was i laft, To wisse aftir þin oune wil. Ne toc i nevere wychecraft, Ne wist i ȝwat was guod nor il, Bote as a wretche dumb and daft, Bote as touȝ tauȝtest [me] þertil. 26 (8). Set to serven þe to queme, Boþe at even and a moruen, Siþin i was þe bitauȝt to ȝeme, Fro þe time þat þouȝ was born. Þouȝ þat dedes couþest deme, Scholdest habbe be war biforn Of mi folye, as it semet; Nouȝ wiþ þiselve thouȝ art forlorn." 27 (9). Þe gast it seyde: "Bodi, be stille! Ȝwo haþ lered þe al þis wite, Þat givest me þese wordes grille, Þat list þer bollen as a bite? Wenestouȝ, wretche, þoȝ thouȝ fille Wid þi foule fleichs a pite, Of alle dedes thouȝ didest ille, Þat þouȝ so litli schalt be quite? 28 (10). Wenestou nou gete þe griþ, Þer þouȝ list roten in þe clay? Þey þouȝ be rotin pile and pid, And blowen wiþ þe wind away, Ȝeot schaltouȝ come wiþ lime and lyþ Agein to me on domesday, And come to court, and i þe wiþ, For to kepen oure harde pay. 29 (11). To teche ȝwere þouȝ me bitauȝt; Ac ȝwan þouȝ þouȝtest of the qued, Wiþ þi teþ þe bridel þouȝ. lauȝt, Þouȝ dist al þat i þe forbed. To sunne and schame it was þi drauȝt, Til untid and til wikkedehed; Inouȝ i stod ageyn and fauȝt, Bot ai þouȝ nome þin oune red. (12). Wan i þe wolde teme and teche, Ȝwat was wel and ȝwat was guod, Of Crist ne kirke was no speche, Bote renne aboute and breyd wod; Inouȝ i miȝte preye and preche, Ne miȝte i nevere wende þi mod, Þat þouȝ woldest god knouleche, But don al þat þin herte [to] stod. 30 (13). I bad þe þenke on soulenede, Matines, masse and evesong; Thouȝ mostist first don oþere dede; Þou seidist al was idel gong. To wode and water and feld thouȝ edest, Or to cour[t], to do men wrong; Bote for pride or grettore mede Lutel þouȝ dust guod among. 31 (32). Ho may more trayson do Or is loverd betere engine, Þan he þat al is trist is to, In and ouȝt as oune hyn? Ay seþþe þouȝ was þriven and þro, Mittis ded i alle mine, To porveȝe þe rest and ro, And þouȝ to bringe me in pine. 32 (14). Nouȝ mouwe þe wilde bestes renne And lien under linde and lef, And foules flie bi feld and fenne, Siþin þi false herte clef. Þine eiȝene are blinde and connen nouȝt kenne, Þi mouth is dumb, þin ere is def; And nouȝ so lodly þouȝ list grenne, Fro þe comeþ a wikke wef. 33 (15). Ne nis no levedi, briȝt on ble, Þat wel weren iwoned of þe to lete, Þat wolde lye a niȝth bi þe, For nouȝth þat men miȝte hem bihete. Þouȝ art unsemly for to se, Uncomli for to cussen suwete; Þouȝ ne havest frend þat ne wolde fle, Come þouȝ stertlinde in þe strete." 34 (16). Þe bodi it seide: "Ic seyȝe, Gast, þouȝ hast wrong iwys, Al þe gult on me to leye, Þat þouȝ hast lorn þi mikil blis. Were was i bi wode or weyȝe, Sat or stod or dide ouȝt mys, Þat i ne was ay under þin eyȝe? Wel þouȝ wost þat soth it ys. 35 (17). Wedir i ede up or doun, Þat i ne bar þe on my bac, Als þin as fro toun to toun, Als se þouȝ me lete have rap and rac? Þat tou ne were and red roun, Nevere did i þing ne spac; Here þe soþe se men mouen, On me þat ligge here so blo and blac. 36 (18). For al þe wile þouȝ were mi fere, I hadde al þat me was ned, I miȝte speke, se and here, I ede and rod and drank and et. Lodli chaunched is my chere, Sin þe tyme þat þouȝ me let; Def and dumb i ligge on bere, Þat i ne may sterin hand ne fet. 37 (19). I scholde have ben dumb as a schep, Or as a nouwe, or as a suyn, Þat et and drank and lai and slep, Slayn and passid al his pin; Nevere of catel nome kep, Ne wyste wat was water ne wyn, Ne leyn in helle þat is so dep, Ne were þe wit þat al was tin." 38 (20). Þe gast yt seide: "Is no doute, Abouten, bodi, þouȝ me bar; Þouȝ mostist nede, i was wiþoute Hand and fot, i was wel war. Bote as tou bere me aboute, Ne miȝt i do þe leste char; Þorfore most i nede loute; So doth þat non oþer dar. 39 (21). Of o wymman born and bredde, Body, were we boþe tvo, Togidre fostrid fayre and fedde, Til þou couþist speke and go. Softe þe for love i ledde, Ne dorst i nevere do þe wo; To lese þe so sore i dredde, And wel i wiste to getin na mo. (22). For me þou woldest sumwat do, Wȝile þou were ȝong a litil first, For frendes eyȝe þat þe stod to, Þe wile þou were betin and birst; Oc wan þouȝ were þriven and þro, And knewe honger, cold and virst, And ȝhwilk was eyse, rest and ro, Al þin oune wil þou dist. 40 (23). I sau þe fair on fleychs and blod, And al mi love on þe i kest; Þat þou þrive me þouȝte guod, And let þe haven ro and rest. Þat made þe so sturne of mod, And of werkes so vnwrest; To fiȝte with þe ne was no bot Me þat þouȝ bar in þi brest. 41 (24). Glotenie and lecherie, Prude and wicke coveytise, Niþe and onde and envie To god of hevene and alle hise, And in unlust for to lye, Was te wane in al wise; That i schal nouȝ ful dere abye, A! weyle! sore may me grise. 42 (25). Þou was warned her bifore, Ȝwat [we] boþe scholden have; Idel tale held tou þat þore, [Þoȝ] þou sauȝ fele bi dun in grave. Þou dist al þat þe werld þe bad, And þat þi fleys þe wolde crave; I þolede þe and [dude] as mad, To be maister and i þi cnave." 43 (26). "Iweneste þouȝ, gost, þe geyned out For to quite þe wiþ al, Þouȝ þat was so wordly wrouȝt, To seye i made þe my þral? Dud i nevere on live nouȝt, I ne rafte ne i ne stal, Þat furst of þe ne kam þe þouȝt. Aby yt þat abyȝe schal! 44 (27). Ȝwat wist i wat was wrong or rith, Wat to take or ȝwat to schone, Bote þat þouȝ pottist in mi siȝth, Þat al þe wisdom scholdest cone? Ȝwanne þouȝ me tauȝtist on untiȝth, An me gan þeroffe mone, Þanne dud i al my miȝth, Anoþer time to have my wone. 45 (28). Oc haddist þouȝ, þat Crist it ouþe, Given me honger, vurst and cold, And þouȝ witest me, þat no guod couþe, In bismere ȝwan i was so bold, Þat i hadde undernomen in ȝouþe, I havede holden old; Þou let me rekyn north and south, And haven al my wille on wold. (29). Þouȝ scholdist for no lif ne for lond, Ne for non oþer worldes winne, Have soffrid me to lein on hond, Þat havede tornd to schame or sunne; Oc for i þe so eise fond, And þi wretche wit so þunne, Þat ay was wriþinde as a wond, Þe[r]fore couþe i nevere blinne. 46 (30). To sunne þouȝ wistist was my kinde, As mankinne it is al so, And to þe wretche world so minde, And to þe fend that is ore fo. Þouȝ scholdest er have late me binde, Wan i misdede, and don me wo; Ac ȝwanne þe blinde lat þe blinde, In dike he fallen boþe two." 47 (31). Tho bigan þe gost to wepe, An seide: "Bodi, allas! allas! Þat i þe lovede evere ȝete, For al mi love on þe i las. Þat tou lovedest me þouȝ lete, And madest me an houue of glas; I dide al þat þe was sete, And þouȝ my traytor evere was. 48 (33). Þe fend of helle þat haveþ enviȝe To mankune, and evere haþ had, Was in us as a spie, To do sum god ȝwan i þe bad. The werld he toc to cumpayniȝe, Þat mani a soule haved forrad, Þey þre wisten þi folye, And madin, wretche, þe al mad. 49 (34) Ȝwan i bad þe reste take, Forsake sunne ay and oo, Do penaunce, faste and wake, Þe fe[nd] seide: 'Þouȝ schalt nouȝt so! Þos sone al þi blisse forsake, To liven ay in pine and wo! Ioyȝe and blisse i rede þouȝ make, And þenke to live ȝeres mo!' 50 (35). Ȝwan i bad te leve pride, Þi manie mes, þi riche schroud, Þe false world þat stod bi side, Bad þe be ful quoynte and proud, Þi fleychs with riche robes schride, Nouȝt als a beggare in a clouȝt, And on heiȝe horse to ride With mikel meyne in and ouȝt. 51 (36). Ȝwan i bad þe erliche to rise, Nim of me, þi soule, kep, Þouȝ seidest, thou miȝtest a none wise Forgon þe murie morweslep. Wȝan ȝe hadden set your sise, Ȝe þre traytours, sore i wep; Ye ladde me wid oure enprise, As þe boþelere doþ is schep. 52 (37). Ȝwan [ȝe] þre traitours at o tale Togidere weren agein me sworn, Al ȝe maden trotevale, Þat i haved seid biforn. Ȝe ledde me bi doune and dale, As an oxe bi þe horn, Til þer as him is browen bale, Þer his þrote schal be schorn. (38). For love þi wille i folewede al, And to min oune deth i drouȝ, To foluwe þe, þat was mi þral, Þat evere were false and frouȝ; Þouȝ it dist and i forhal, We wistin wel it was wouȝ; Þerfore mote we kepe ore fal, Pine and schame and sorewe inouȝ. 53 (39). Þeiȝ alle þe men nouȝ under mone To demen weren sete on benche, Þe schames þat us schullen be done Ne schuldin halven del biþenke. Ne helpeþ us no bede ne bone, Ne may us nou no wyl towrenche. Hellehoundes cometh nou sone, Forþi ne mouwe we noyþer blenche." 54 (40). Ȝwan þat bodi say þat gost Þat mone and al þat soruwe make, It seyde: "Allas! þat my lif hath last, Þat i have lived for sunne sake! Þat min herte anon ne hadde toborste, Ȝwan i was fram mi moder take; I miȝte have ben in erþe kest, And ileiȝen and iroted in a lake. 55 (41). Þanne haved i nevere lerned, Ȝwat was uvel ne ȝwat was guod, Ne no þing with wrong ȝernd, Ne pine þoled, as i mot; Ȝwere no seint miȝte beren ore ernde To him þat bouȝte us with is blod, In helle ȝwanne we ben brend, Of sum merci to don us bot." 56 (42). "Nay, bodi, nouȝ is to late For to preiȝe and to preche, Nou þe wayn is ate ȝate, And þi tonge haþ leid þe speche. O poynt of ore pine to bate, In þe world ne is no leche; Al tegidere we gon o gate, Swilk is godes harde wreche. 57 (43). Ac haddest þouȝ a litel er, Ȝwile us was lif togidre lent, Þo þat was so sek and ser, Us schriven and þe devel schent, And laten renne a reuly ter, And bihiȝt amendement, Ne þorte us have friȝt ne fer, Þat god ne wolde his blisse us sent. 58 (44). Þey alle þe men þat ben o lyves, Weren prestes, messes to singe, And alle þe maidenes and þe wyves Wydewes, hondene for to wringe, And miȝte suweche fyve Als is in werld of alle þinge, Siþin we ne mouwen us sulven schrive, Ne schulde us into blisse bringe. 59 (45). Bodi, i may no more duelle, Ne stonde for to speke with þe; Hellehoundes here i ȝelle, And fendes mo þan men mowe se, Þat comen to fette me to helle, Ne may i noweder from hem fle; And þouȝ schalt comen with fleys and felle A domesday to wonie with me." 60 (46). Ne havede it non er þe word iseyd, It ne wiste ȝwider it scholde go; In abreken at a breid A þousend develene and ȝet mo. Ȝwan thei haddin on him leyd Here scharpe cloches alle þo, Yt was in a sori pleyt, Reuliche toyled to and fro. 61 (47). For thei weren ragged, roue and tayled, With brode bulches on here bac, Scharpe clauwes, longe nayled; No was no lime withoute lac. On alle halve it was asayled With mani a devel, foul and blac; Merci criende lutel availede, Ȝwan Crist it wolde so harde wrac. 62 (48). Some þe chaules it towrasten, And ȝoten in þe led al hot, And bedin him to drinke faste, And senke abouten him a brod. A devil kam þer ate laste, Þat was maister, wel i wot, A colter glowende in him he þraste, Þat it þoruȝ þe herte it smot. 63 (49). Gleyves glowende some setten To bac and brest and boþe sides, Þat in his herte þe poyntes mettin, And maden him þo woundes wide; And seiden him, fol wel he lette Þe herte, þat was so fol of pride; Wel he it hadde þat men him bihette; For more scholde it bitide. 64 (50). Wordly wedes for to were Þei seiden þat he lovede best; A develes cope for to bere Al brennynde on him was kest, With hote haspes imad to spere, Þat streite sat to bac and brest; An helm þat was lutel to here, Kam him and an hors al prest. 65 (51). Forth was brouȝt þere with a bridel A corsed devel als a cote, Þat grisliche grennede and ȝenede wide, Þe leyȝe it lemede of his þrote; With a sadel to the midside, Fol of scharpe pikes schote, Alse an hechele onne to ride; Al was glowende ilke a grote. 66 (52). Opon þat sadil he was sloungen, As he scholde to þe tornement; An hundred devel on him dongen, Her and þer þan he was hent; With hote speres þoruȝ was stongen, And wiþ oules al torent; At ilke a dint þe sparkles sprongen, As of a brond þat were forbrend. 67 (53). Ȝwan he hadde riden þat rode Opon þe sadil þer he was set, He was kast doun as a tode, And hellehoundes to him were led, Þat broiden out þo peces brode, Als he to helle ward was fet; Ther alle þe fendes fet it trode, Men miȝte of blod foluwe þe tred. 68 (54). He beden him hontin and blowen, Crien on Bauston and Bewis, Þe ratches þat him were woned te knowen, He scholden sone blowe þe pris; An hundred develes, ratches on a rowe With stringes him drowen, unþanc his, Til he kome to þat lodli lowe, Þer helle was, i wot to wis. 69 (55). Wȝan it kam to þat wikke won, Þe fendes kasten suwilk a ȝel, Þe erþe it openede anon, Smoke and smoþer op it wal, Boþe pich and brumston; Men myȝte fif mile have þe smel. Loverd, wo schal him be bigon, Þat haþ þeroffe þe tenþe del. 70 (56). Wȝan þe gost þe soþe isey, Wȝide[r] it scholde, it kaste a cri, And seide: "Jhesu Crist, that sittest on hey, On me, þi schap, nouȝ have merci! Ne schope þouȝ me þat art so slyȝ? Þi creature al so was i, Als man þat sittes þe so ny, Þat þou havest so wel don by. 71 (57). Þouȝ þat wistest al bifor, Wȝi schope þou me to wroþer hele, To be þus togged and totoren, And oþere to haven al mi wele? Þo þat scholden be forlorn, Wretches þat tou miȝtest spele, A! weile! wȝi lestouȝ hem be born, To ȝeve þe foule fend so fele?" 72 (58). Agein him þe fendes gonnen criȝe: "Caitif, helpeþ þe na more To calle on Jhesus ne Marie, Ne to crie Cristes ore. Loren þouȝ havest the cumpainye, Þou havest served us so ȝore; Þarfore nou þou schalt abye, As oþere þat leven on oure lore." 73 (59). Þe foule fendes þat weren fayn, Bi top and tail he slongen hit, And kesten it with myȝt and mayn Doun into the develes pit, Þer sonne ne schal nevere be seyn; Hemself he sonken in þermit. Þe erþe hemsulf it lek aȝeyn, Anon þe donge it was fordit.

Sou ke parla cely ki ceste avision aveit weu e dit issi:

74 (60). Wȝan it was forth, þat foule lod, To hellewel, or it were day, On ilk a her a drope stod, For friȝt and fer þer as i lay; To Jhesu Crist with mild mod Ȝerne i kalde and lokede ay, Ȝwan þo fendes hot fot Come to fette me away. 75 (61). I þonke him þat þolede deth, His muchele merci and his ore, Þat schilde me fram mani a qued, A sunful man as i lai þore. Þo þat sunfol ben, i rede hem red, To schriven hem and rewen sore; Nevere was sunne idon so gret, Þat Cristes merci ne is wel more. 76. Sa grace ly doine Jhesu Crist, Ki ce dite de meins escrit! De li server de quer parfit, A tous otreie ly seint espirit!

Vernon Manuscript, Bl. 285 v.

 A disputacion bytwene þe bodi and þe soule. 1 (1). Als ich lay in winteres niht In a droupnynge tofore þe day, Me þhouȝte i seih a selly siht, A bodi þer hit on beere lay; Þat hadde iben a comeli kniht And luitel iserued god to pay; Loren he hedde þis lyues liht; Þe gost was oute and wolde away. 2 (2). And whon þe gost him scholde go, Hit turned aȝeyn and ȝit wiþstod, Beheold þe flesch þer it com fro, So serwefuliche mid dreri mood; And seide: "Allas and weilawo! Þou fikele flesch, þou false blod! Whi lyst þou now stynkynde so, Þat whilen weore so wylde and wod? 3 (3). Þou þat weore iwont to ryde So hiȝe an horse in and out, So queynte a kniht and kud so wyde, Als a lyoun fers and proud, Where is now al þi muchele pride, And þi leete þat was so loud? Whi lyst þou þere so bare þi syde, Prikked in so pore a schroud? 4 (4). Where ben now alle þine worþili wedes, Þi somers mid þi bourliche beddes, Þi palfreis and þi noble stedes, Þat þou aboute in destre leddes? Þi faucouns þat were wont to grede, And þi grehoundes þat þou feddes? Me þinkeþ þi good is þe ful gnede, Now al þi frendes ben from þe fledde. 5. 6 (5). Where ben þyne castels and þi toures, Thi chaumbres and þin heiȝe halle, Þat peynted weoren with feire floures, And þyne riche robes alle? Þi quyltes and þi couertoures, Þat sendel and þat pourprepalle? Lo! wrecche, wher is nou þi boure? To morwe schaltou þerinne falle. 7 (6). Where be nou alle þyne cokes snelle, Þat scholde go greiþe þyne mete Mid riche spiceries, for to smelle, Þat þou were gredi for to frete, To don þi foule flesch to swelle, Þat now wole foule wormes ete? And me þe put and pyne of helle Mid þi glotenye hast þou gete. 8 (7). Wher be þeose gleomen þe to glewen, Harpe and fiþele and tabourbete? Þis pipers, þat þis bagges blewen, And þat þou ȝaf þe ȝiftes grete, Þe riche robes, olde and newe, To ȝelpen of þe, þer þei seete? Suche truilours þat neuer nere trewe Of þe hedden gret biȝete. 9 (8). For to bere þi word so wyde, And maken of þe rym and raf, Suche gylours for pompe and pride Largeliche of þin þou ȝaf. Ac þe pore eoden al be syde, For euer hem þou ouerhaf; And ȝif þei comen in eny vnryde, Sone heo weore striken myd a staf. 10 (9). Of suche pore þou hit nom, Þat mony a gloten eet and dronk; Neuer ne rouȝtest þow of whom, Ne ho þerfore sarrest swonk. Þe riche was welcome whon he com, Þe pore was beten þat he stonk; Now is al gon mid godes grom, And þou hast, wrecche, luyte þonk. 11 (12). Ac to morwe whon hit is day, Out from kiþ and al þy kyn Bare schalt þou wenden away, And leuen al þis worldes win. In proud paleys þeiȝ þou her lay, Wiþ wormes is nou nomen þyne in; Þi boure is bult so cold in clay, Þe roof to resten on þi chyn. 12 (11). Þou, wrecche, þat in al þi siht Neore neuere of worldes wynne sad, Nou hastou nouþur lond ne liþ, But seuen foote and vnneþe þat. Nou sixtou, and þe soþe hit kiþ, Al is loren þat þou er gat; And þou ne schalt neuer eft be blyþ Of þat oþur wol make hem glad. 13 (10). Of al þat þou togedere drouȝ, And were hardore þen þe flynt, Suche schul make hem large inouȝ, Þat þow neuere neddest hit mint. And þou þat madest hit so touȝ, Al þi bost is sone astint. Ac i mai wepen þat þou be louȝ, For al my blisse is for þe tynt. 14 (30). And þi false heyr is now fayn, Þi feire fe for to vnderfo; Wel is him þis day iseyn, Þat luytel good schal for þe do. Nolde he nout nou ȝiuen aȝeyn, To bringen vs into reste and ro, Of al þat londe a fote or tweyn, Þat þou so synfuliche come to. 15. 16 (31). And þyne excecutours schul nou seche Þyn oþer þing, nou þou art ded; Al schal geynliche gon to wreche, Haue þei deled a luytel bred. Vche to pyke þat he con skekke, Scheep or swyn or hors or net; Ac luytel þerof vs þar recche, Siþen we beoþ boþe bitauȝt þe qwed." 17. 18. 19 (32). And whon þe gost mid grisli chere Hedde þus maad his muchele mon, Þe bodi þer hit lay on bere, An atelich þing as hit was on, Þe hed haf vp and þe swire; As þing al seek hit ȝaf a gron, And seide: "Whoder þouȝtest þou fere, Þat were þus freschliche from me gon? 20 (33). What eyleþ þe, þou grymli gaast, Þat me þus breidest of myn vnhap? So broþliche as myn herte barst, Þe deþ so deolfulliche me drap. I nam nouþer furst ne last, Þat schal drynken of þat nap; Nis non so kene þat he nis cast, Þe pruddest may arst kepe his clap. 21 (34). What breidest þou þat i schal rote? For so dude Sampson and Cesar, Þat no mon con nou fynden a mote Of hem, ne of [þe] mooder þat hem bar. Wormes forgnowen heor alre þrote, So schulen heo myn, nou am i war; Þer deþ so redi fynt dore opene, Ne may helpe no ȝeyn char. 22 (35). Ac whon i seiȝ boþe clerk and kniht And oþur men bi gates go, And ich was mon of muchel miht, And euere wend haue dured so, Hiȝe halles and boures briȝt Hedde i maad wiþ murþhes mo, Mi dwellyng here so feire idiht, Þat deþ haþ me þus demed fro. 23 (36). Mi wonyinge here so murie i wrouȝt And wende haue lyued ȝit ȝeres fele; Wyde wones and boldes bouȝt Mid al þat euere i miȝte stele. Nou wente þe world aȝeyn my þouȝt; And deþ, þat con so stille stele, Haþ me demed awey wiþ nouȝt, And oþere towelden al þis wele. 24 (37). And ȝif þou wolt me þerof wyte Þat boþe schul we ben ispilt, Mid þi self scholdest þou furst flyte, For al was hit þyn owne gilt. Þat schewe ich þe wiþ wordes luyte And wiþ riȝt resun, ȝif þou wilt; Þou art to blame, and ich al quite, For boþe schuldestou vs from schome han schilt 25 (38). For god þe schop aftur his schaft, And ȝaf þe boþe wit and skil; And in þi lokyng al was ich laft, To wissen after þyn owne wil. Ne couþe i neuere of wikked craft, Ne wuste what was good or il, But as a beest doumbe and daft, And as þou tauhtest me þertil. 26 (39). For ich was betauȝt þe to ȝeme, A witles þing as ich was boren, And set to seruen þe to queme, Boþe an euen and at moren. Ac þou þat deedes couþest deme, Scholdest ha ben war beforen Of my folye, as hit now seme; And þus art þow þi self forloren." 27 (40). Þe soule seide: "Bodi, be stille! Who haþ leret þe þis wit, To ȝiue me þis wordes grille, Þer þou lyst bollen as a bit? Wenest þou, wrecche, þeiȝ þou fille Mid þat foule flesch a pit, Of al þat euere þou hast don ille, Þat þou so lihtly schal be quit? 28 (41). Wendest þou þus to geten griþ, Þeiȝ þou lyst roted in þe clay? Nay! þeih þou rote pile and piþ, And blowe wiþ þe wynd away, Ȝit schalt þou come with lime and liþ Aȝeyn to me at domesday, And come to court and ich þe wiþ, For to kepe vre rihte pay. 29 (42). To loke, seistou, weore þou me tauȝt; Ak sone so þou couþest of eny qued, Mid þe teeþ þe bridel þou lauȝt, And dudest al þat ich forbed. To synne and serwe was þi drauȝt, To serwe and to wikkedhed; Euere ich flot aȝeyn and fauȝt, Ac euere þou nomme þin owene red. 30 (43). Ak whon i spek of soulenedes, Masse, matynes or euensong, Þou mostest arst don oþur dedes, And toldest hit al idel ȝong. To riuer or to chase þou eodes, Oþer to court, to deme wrong; Bote for pride or muchele medes Luytel good þou dudest among. 31 (20). And ho may more tresun do Or his lord better engyne, Then he þat al his trust is to, And mid hym as his owne hyne? Euer siþen þou couþest go, Stunten noldest þou, neuer fyne, Þi self to dihten reste and ro, And me to purchasen put and pyne. 32 (21). Ac now mowen þis bestes renne And liggen vnder lynd and lef, And foules flen by feld and fenne, Siþen þi false herte clef. Þyn eȝe is blynd and con not kenne, Þi mouþ is doumbe, þin ere is deef; And þou begynnest þus to grenne, From þe comeþ a wikked weef. 33 (22). Nis no ladi, so briht of ble, Þat of þe weore wel woned to lete, Þat o day wolde wiþ þe be, For al þe gold þou euer gete. Vnsemely art þou on to se, Vncomelich for to cusse swete; Þow hast no frend þat nolde fle, Come þou startlynge in þe strete." (23). "Nai, grimly gost, al þe for nouȝt Mid me to holde chide and cheste; For clyuen most i to þi þouȝt And bouwen as a bounden beeste, To don al þat þe of rouȝt; Ich was euer at þin heste. Wiþstonden þe ne dorst i nouȝt, For mid þe weren miȝtes meste. (24). For as ich was to þe iȝiuen, And as þyn asse ich þe bar, As mayster ouer me to lyuen, Þat wel was of myne wrenches war; And whon þou heddest me forþ dryuen, And iput til eny char, Al to þe counseil most i cliuen, As he doþ þat non oþer ne dar." 34 (14). Þe bodi grunte, and gon to seye: "Gost, þou hast þe wrong iwis, Al þe gult on me to leye, Þat þou hast þus iloren þi blis. Wher was ich be wode or weye, Sat or stood or dude out mis, Þat i nas neuere vndur þyn eiȝe? Wel þou wost þat soþ hit is. 35. 36. 37 (18). I scholde haue ben but as a schep, Or as an oxe, or as a swyn, Þat eet and dronk, lay and sleep, Slayen and passed al his pyn; Neuer of catel nomen no kep, Ne chosen þe water from þe wyn, Ne nou ne scholde into helle dep, Nere þe wit þat al was þyn." (19). "Careyne vnkynde, what hast þou seid? For euere were þou luþer and les, For to brewe me bitter bried, And me to puyten out of pees. Wiþ lime iwrouȝt, wiþ tonge iseid, To harme was þi raple res; Wiþ schome is now þi leete ileyd, Wiþ serwe me neweþ me þat mes. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42 (13). So feole tyme weore þou þrat, What þow, wrecche, scholdest haue; And luitel ȝiue þou of þat, Þeiȝ þou seȝe al þi kun igraue. Þou dudest al as þe world þe bad, And as þi foule flesch wolde craue; I suffred þe and dude as mad, To be maister and ich þi knaue." 43 (15). "And þou þat were so worþliche wrouȝt, Þou seidest ich made þe my þral? Ac al þat euer þe of rouȝt, Þou hit dust and ich hit hal. Ne misdude ich neuer nouȝt, Ne i ne rafte, ne i ne stal, Þat arst of þe ne com þe þouȝt. Abugge hose abugge schal! 44 (16). What wuste i what was wrong or riȝt, What to take or what to schone, But as þou puttest in my siht, Þat al þe wisdam schuldest haue kone? Ac whon i dude an vntiht, And eft sones gon me þerof mone, Þenne leide i al my miht, Anoþer tyme to haue þe wone. 45 (25). Ac heddest þou, so Christ hit ouþe, Iȝiue me boþe hongur and cold, And itauȝt me, þat nouȝt ne couþe, But ligge in bisemare so bold, Þat ich vsede in my ȝouþe, Hedde ich holden, whon ich was old; Ak þou me lete reyke norþ and souþe, And hauen al my wille in wold. 46 (17). Wel ouȝtestou wite wat was my kynde, As vre eldren weren ar tho, To be þis wrecched wor[l]d so mynde, And euer coueyten mo and mo. Allas! Whi neddest þou me bynde, Whon i wolde to synne haue go? Ac þer þe blynde lat þe blynde, In dich þei fallen boþe two." 47 (26). "A! þou foule flesch vnseete, Ful of falsnesse and fallas! Þat ich þe seȝe euer ȝete, For al my loue on þe i las. Þat þou louedest me þou leete, And maadest me an houue of glas; Ich dude al þat þe þhouȝte swete, And þou traytur euer was. 48. 49 (27). And whon ich bad þe schrifte take, And leuen þi synnes euer and o, Do penaunce and faste and wake, Þe fend seide: 'Schalt þow not so! Þus ȝong þi ryot forsake, To lyuen longe in serwe and wo! Ioye and murþe i rede þou make, And þenke to lyuen ȝit ȝeres mo!' 50 (28). And whon ich bad þe leuen pruide, Þyne mony mees, þi semeli schroud, Þis wrecchede world þe stood be syde, And bad þe be ful queynte and proud, Þi flesch mid riche robes schruide, Nout as a beggere in a clout, Ac on heiȝ hors for to ryde Mid muche meyne in and out. 51 (29). Ak whon ich bad þe erliche aryse, And of me taken rihtliche kep, Þou seidest, miȝtest þou none wyse For þi murie morewesleep. And whon ȝe hedden set ȝoure assyse, Ȝe þreo traitors, sore ich wep; Ȝe ladde me mid oure empryse, As þe boþelere doþ his schcep." 52. 53. 54 (44). And þo þe bodi seiȝ þe gost Such deol and such mone make, And seide: "Allas! my lyf is lost, Þat euere i liuide for þine sake! Þat myn herte anon ne barst Whon ich was from my mooder take, Or ben into a put icast Mid a tadde or mid a snake! 55 (45). For þenne nedde i neuer ilerned, What was vuel ne what was good, Ne no þing wrong iȝeorned, Ne pyne suffred, as i now mot; Wher no seynt mai beode vre ernde To him þat bouȝt vs mid his blod, Þat we ne ben in þis fuir forbrende, Þorw his merci to don us boot." 56 (46). "Nai, wrecche, nai, now is to late, For to preye or for to preche; Now is þe wayn riȝt atte ȝate, And þi tonge haþ leyd þe speche. O poynt of vre peyne to abate, In al þis world nis non such leche; Þat boþe we schullen gon o gate, Such is Christes wraþþe and wreche. 57. 58. 59 (47). I may now no lengor dwelle, Ne stonden heer to speken mid þe; For hellehoundes ich here ȝelle, And fendes mo þen i may se, Þat comen to fecchen me to helle, Ne may i non gates fle; And þow schalt comen in flesch and felle At domusday to wone wiþ me." 60 (48). And as hit hedde þus iseid, Nuste hit whodere hit schulde go, And to him wiþ a lodly breyd Comen a þousund fendes or mo. And sone þei hedden on hym leyd Heore scharpe cloches alle þo; Hit was in a deolful pleyt, Reuþliche itoyled to and fro. 61 (49). For summe were ragged and tayled, Mid brode bunches on heore bak, Scharpe clauwes and longe nayled; Nas non of hem wiþouten lac. On alle halue hit was assayled Of mony a deuel blo and blac; Merci criȝinge luitel hym vayled, Siþen god hit wolde so harde him wrak. 62 (50). Summe his chekes al towraste, And ȝoten in þe led al hot, And beeden he scholde drynken faste, And ȝiuen aboute him a brod. A foul deuel com þer atte laste, Þat was mayster, wel ich wot, A coltur glowynde in hym he caste, Þat hit þorw his herte smot. 63 (51). Sweordes glowynge summe setten To bak, to breste, to vche a syde, Þat at his herte þe poyntes metten, And maden on him woundes wyde. Heo askeden him how wel hit lette, Þe herte, þat was so ful of pride; Ȝif he hedde ȝut þat men him hette, For more he moste sone betyde. 64 (52). Worþliche weden for to weren Seyden heo þat he louede best; An heui brunye for to beren Al brennynge on hym was kest, Wiþ strayte haspes for to speren, Þat strayte sat to bac and brest; An helm, þat luitel was to heren, Com hym and an hors ful prest. 65. 66 (53). He was þere in a sadel slongen, And scholde to a tornement; An hundred deuelen on hym dongen, Heer and þer he was ihent; At vche a dunt þe sparkes sprongen, As a brond þat were forbrent; Mid hote speres was he stongen, Mid scharpe swerdes al torent. 67. 68 (54). And beeden him for to hunten and blowe, And clepen Bauson and Beufys, Þe racches þat hym scholde knowe, For sone mosten heo blowe pris; An hundred racches on a rowe Driuen hym, al vnþonk his, Til he com to a lodly lowe, Helle hit was, ichot to wis. 69 (55). And þo heo comen to þat wikked won, Þe fendes casten vp a ȝel; Þe eorþe opnede vp anon, Smoke and smolder vp þer wel; Of þe pich and þe brymston Men mihte mony a mile haue smel. Lord, wo is hym bigon, Þat þer schal haue þe haluendel. 70 (56). And whon þe gost þe soþe seiȝ, Whoder hit scholde, hit made a cri, And seide: "God, that sittest an heiȝ, Of me þou haue mynde and merci! Ne schop þou me þat art so sleiȝ, And þi creature was i, As mony on þat sitteþ þe neyȝ, And þat þou hast so wel do bi? 71 (57). Þow, god, þat wustest al beforen, Whi schop þow me to wroþer hele, To ben þus togged and totoren, Or for to welden eny wele? Þulke þat scholden han ben loren, Wel miȝtest þou such werkes spele; Allas! whi leetest vs be boren, To ȝiuen þe foule fendes so fele?" 72 (58). Þe fendes gunnen aȝeyn to crye: "Caytif, helpeþ þe now no more To clepen on Jhesu ne on Marie, Ne for to craue Cristes ore. Iloren hast þow þe cumpaynye, For serued hast þou vs so ȝore; Þi ryot þow schalt now abuyȝe, As oþere þat leeueþ vppon vre lore." 73 (59). Þe fendes þat of him weore fayn, Bi top and tayl þei henten hit, And slongen hit myd a modi mayn Into þe aller deoppeste pit, Þer neuer sonne ne schal be seyn; Heomself asonken in þermit. Þe eorþe closede hitself aȝeyn, And þe dungoun was fordit. 74 (60). And hit was forþe, þat foule lod, Faste hit gon neiȝen þe day; On vche an her a drope stod, For fyn fere þer i lay; To Jhesu Crist wiþ mylde mod Ȝerne ich clepede and criȝede ay; So was i ferd, ich was neiȝ wod, Þat heo me scholden haue boren away. 75 (61). I þonke him þat suffrede deþ, His muchele merci and his ore, Þat saued me from so many a qwed, A synful wrecche as i lay þore. Alle synful ich rede hem red, Heore synnes for to rewen sore; For nis no synne in world so gret, Þat Cristes merci nis wel more. 76 (62). A! Jhesu, þat vs alle hast wrouȝt, Lord, after þi feire face, And mid þi precious blod ibouȝt, Of amendement ȝef vs space, So þat þin hondewerk leose nouȝt In so deolful stude and place; Ac þe ioye þat þou hast vs wrouȝt, Graunte vs, god, for þyn holy grace! Amen.

Digby Manuscript 102, Bl. 136 r.

 Disputacio inter corpus et animam. 1 (1). As i lay in a wynternyȝt In a derkyng bifore þe day, Me þouȝt i se a selly siȝt, A body on a bere lay; That hadde ben a mody knyȝt And litil had serued god to pay; Lorne he hadde his lifes liȝt; Þe gost was out and went away. 2 (2). When þe gost was went hit fro, Hit withstynt and þerby stode, Bihelde þe body þere hit come fro, With simple chere and drery mode; And saide: "Allas and wele away! Þou foule flesch, þou vile blode! Why lyes þou now stynkyng so, Þat sum tyme was so wilde and wode? 3 (3). Þou þat was wonede to ryde So heiȝ on hors in and oute, So kene a knyȝt and kidde so wyde, As a lyoun fiers and proude, Where is now þy michel pride, And þi let þat was so loude? Why lyes þou now so bareside, Prikked in so pouere a schroude? 4 (4). Where ar now alle þy worthy wedes, Þy somers with thy riche beddes, Thy palfrays and þy proude stedes, Þat þou aboute in destre leddes? Þy faukones þat were wonte to brede, And grehoundes þat þou feddes? Me þinke[þ] þy gode is now ful gnede, Now alle þy frendes arn fro þe fledde. 5 (13). Wher ar þy markes and þy poundes, Þy folk and þy faire fegh, Þy grete tresour by roue and grounde, Briȝt broches, ryng and begh? Who durst bed þe stroke or wounde, When þy baner was born on hegh? Yuel art þou proued in a stounde, Þy tail is kutted þe ful negh. 6 (5). Where ar þy castels and þy tours, Þy chambre and þy hyȝe halle, Þat payntede was wiþ proude flours, And þy riche robes alle? Thy quyltes and þy couertours, Thy cendal and þy purprepalle? Lo! wrecche, where is now þy boure? To morne schal þou þerin falle. 7 (6). Wher beþ now þy cokes snel, Þat shulde go and graith þy mete With riche spicerie, for to smel, Þat þou was gredy for to frete, That dede þy foule flesch to swel, Þat now shal foule wermes ete? And i þe hard put of hel For þy glotonie mone gete. 8 (7). Wher ar þy mynstrels þat schulde þe glue With harpe and fythel and tabourebete? The pypers, þat in bagges blue, And þat þou gaf þy giftes grete, Thy proude robes, olde and nue, To ȝelpe on þe, þere þai sete? Suche truyleurs neuere true Of þe hadde gret biȝete. 9 (8). For to bere thy word so wide, And make of þe boþ rym and raf, Suche gylours for pompe and pride Largely of þyn þou gaf. But þe pouere ȝeden al be side, Or euere ham þou ouerhaf; And if þay come in eny vnride, Sone were þay striken wiþ a staf. 10 (9). Of þe pouere þou hit nam, Þat meny gloton ete and dranke; Neuere þouȝtest þou of wham, Ne who þerfore sore swanke. The riche was welcome when he cam, Þe þouere was bete þat he stanke; Now is al gone with godis gram, And þou haues, wreche, litel thanke. 11 (12). But to morn when it is day, Out of kiȝt and al þy kynne Bare shal þou wend away, And lef here al þy worldes wynne. In proud palays if þou here lay, With wormes now is taken þin ynne; Thy boure is bilt in ful cold clay, Þe roue shal rest riȝt at þy chynne. 12 (11). Þou, wrecche, þat in al þy siht Was neuere of worldes wynne sadde, Now has þou neþer lond no liht, Bot seuen fot and vnneþ þatte. Now sees þou, and þe soth wile kiht, Þat al is lorn þat þou er gatte; And shal neuer more be bliht Of þat other wole make hem gladde. 13 (10). Of al þat þou togider drogh, And was wele harder þan þe flynt, Suche schul now make hem large ynogh, Þat þou neuere naddest bit mynt. And þou þat madest hit so togh, Al þy bost is sone stynt. Bot y may wepe þat þou by logh, For al my blis is for þe tynt. 14 (14). Thy fals heir is now ful fayn, Þy faire fees to vndergo; Wele is him þis day isseyn, Þat litel good wile for þe do. Ne wold he nouȝt ȝyue ageyn, To brynge vs boþ to rest and roo, Of al þat lond a fot or tweyn, Þat þou so synfully come to. 15 (15). Now wil þy wyf no more wepe; O nyȝt ne shal she haue no rest, Ne for fele þouȝtes slepe, What man hir byfel best In þy stede for to crepe; Be þys she wot of on al prest. Be þou to morn doluen depe, Sone þay shulle be treuþfest. 16 (16). Alle þy sectours shal now seke Þy other catel, now þou art dede; Al shal sone go to wreke, Haue þay delt a litel brede. Ilkon shal pyke þat he may skeke, Shep or swyne, hors or nete; But litel þerof thar vs reke, For we ar boþ bytauȝt þe quede. 17. 18 (17). Now is þe cursyng on þe liȝt, Wreche, þere i se þe lye, Þat meny on bad þe day and nyȝt, And knele[d] on þair knees to crye. Bot allas! þat i wreched wyȝt Shal now so gultles abye Al þy schame and þy vnryȝt Wiþ sorwe and woo þat i shal drye." 19 (18). Audiens tunc corpus redargucionem spiritus et voce quasi iracundiosa sono quodam lamentacionis horribilis sic respondit dicens. And when þe gost wiþ grisly chere Hadde þus made his michel mone, The body þere hit lay on bere, A grisly þyng as bit was one, The hed heued vp and þe swere; As thynge al seek bit gaf a grone, And saide: "Whider þouȝtest þou fere, Þat is þus þroly fro me gone?" 20 (19). Hit saide: "What ayleþ þe now, gast, Þat me þus braydes of my vnhap? Ne wist þou how my hert brast, When deþ so doelfully me drap? I nam nouȝt þe ferst ne þe last, Þat shal drynke of þat nap; Nis non so kene þat he nys cast, Þe pruddest may erest kepe his clap. 21 (20). What braydest þou me þat i shal rote? For so dede Sampson and Cesar, Þat no man kan nouȝt fynde a mote Of ham, ne of þe moder þat ham bar. Wormes gnoȝen here aller þrote, So foul þay ligge, now am y war; Ther deþ wil come, suffre man mote, Ne may helpe non gayn chare. 22 (21). When y se boþ clerk and knyȝt And oþer mo by waies go, And y was man of michel myȝt, And euere wend endured so, Heigh halles and boures bryȝt Had y made wiþ myrthes mo, My duellyng here ful faire ydiȝt, Þat deþ haþ me þus demed fro. 23 (22). My wonyng here so mury i wrouȝt, And wend haue lyued ȝut ȝeres fele; Brode wastes and wodes y bouȝt Wiþ al þat euere y myȝt spele. Now is þe worlde went aȝein my þouȝt; And deþ, þat kan stille me stele, Haþ me dryue away wiþ nouȝt, And other towelden al my wele. 24 (23). And if þou wilt þerof wyte, Þat we shul boþ be spilt, Wiþ þy self þou sholdest ferst flyte, For al it is þin owen gilt. Þat now y schewe wiþ wordes lyte And wiþ reson, if þou wilt; Þou art to blame, and y al quyte, For þou sholdest fro synne vs boþ haue shilt. 25 (24). For god þe shope after his schap, And gaf þe boþ wit and skil; And in þy lokyng was y laft, To wisse after þin owen wil. Ne couþ y neuere of wikked craft, Ne wist what was gode ne il, But as a best dombe and daft, And al þou tauȝtest me þertil. 26 (25). I was bytauȝt þe for to ȝeme, Boþ at euen and at morne, And sette to serue þe to queme, A witles þyng as y was borne. But þou þat dedes couþest deme, Þat þere þou art þy selue forlorne, Of my folie, hit may wele seme, Y shulde haue be war byforne." 27 (26). Respondit tunc spiritus ad corpus. Then sayd þe soule: "Body be stille! Who haþ lerned þe al þis wit, To ȝif me þis ansuer grille, Þere þou lyest bolned as a bit? Wenestou, wrecche, þouȝ þou fille Wiþ þy foule flesche a pit, Of al þat euere þou has done ille, Þat þou so liȝtly shal be quyt? 28 (27). Wenestou now to gete griþ, Þouȝ þou lie roten þere in þat clay? Nay! þouȝ þou rote pile and pith, And al toblowe wiþ wynd away, Ȝet schal þou come with lym and liþ Aȝein to me on domesday, And come to court and y þe wiþ, For to kepe oure ryȝt pay. 29 (28). To loke, þou saiest, þou was me tauȝt; But when þou couþe of eny quede, Wiþ þe teeþ þe bridel þou lauȝt, And dedest al þat y þe forbede. To synne and schame was þy drauȝt, To sorowe and to wikkedhede; Ful ofte y flote agayn and fauȝt, But ay þou toke þyn owen rede. 30 (29). For when y monede þy soulnedes, Messe, matyns and euensong, Þou most first do oþer dedes, And saydest, hit was al ydel gong. To ryuer or to chace þou ȝedes, Or to court to deme wrong; But it were for pride or grete nedes, Litel gode þou didest among. 31 (30). And who may more treson do Or his lord bettere engyne, Þan he þat al his trist is to, And wiþ him as his owin hyne? Ay seþ þou were þryuen and þro, And wistest alle werkes myne, Þy self purueidestou rest and ro, And me hast diȝt pitte and pyne. 32 (32). Now may þese wylde bestes renne And liggen vnder lynd and leef, And foules fle be felde and fenne, Ay seþen þy fals hert cleef. Thy eye is blynde and can nouȝt kenne, Þy mouþe is dombe, þin eres ar deef; And þou so loþly list to grenne, Fro þe comeþ a wikked weef." 33. 34 (33). Respondit iterum corpus ad animam vocc querula dicens. The body bigan to grone and say: "Gost, þou doest wrong ywys, Al þat gylt on me to lay, Þat þou hast lorn so michel blys. Wher was y by wode or way, Sat or stode or dide ouȝt mys, Þat y nas euere vnder þe ay? Wele þou wot þat soþe it ys. 35. 36. 37 (38). I ne scholde haue ben but as a shep, Or as an ox, or as a swyn, Þat ete and dranke, lay and slep, Slayn and passed al his pyn; Ne neuere of catel taken kep, Ne chosen þe watere fro þe wyn, Ne now ne scholde to helle dep, Ne were þe witte þat al was þyn." 38. 39. 40. 41. 42 (31). "So fele tymes y þe þrat, What we boþe schulden haue; But litel tale ȝaf þou of þat, Þouȝ þou see alle þy frendes graue. Þou dide[st] as þe world þe bad, And as þy foule flesch wolde craue; I suffred þe and dede as mad, To be my lord and y þy knaue." 43 (34). "And þou þat was so wonderly wrouȝt, Þou saiest y made þe my þral? Al þat euere þe of rouȝt, Þou hit didest and y wiþ al. Ne mysdide y neuere nouȝt, Ne y ne rafte, ne y ne stal, That ferst of þe ne come þe þouȝt. Abye who it abye schal! 44 (35). What wist y was wrong or riȝt, What to take or what to shone, But as þou puttest in my siȝt, Þat al þe wisdome shuldest haue cone? For when y dide ones an vnriȝt, And eft gan me þerof mone, Þenne laide y al my myȝt, Anoþer tyme to haue my wone. 45 (36). But haddest þou, and god it ouþ, Gyue me hunger, þirst and colde, And wissede me, þat no goed couþ, But lye in bismere so bolde, That y lerned in my ȝouþ, Y helde hit, seþen y was olde; And þou me let rayke norþ and souþ, And haue al my wile in wolde. 46 (37). Wele wistou what was my kynde, And al mankynde it is al so, To haue þis wikkede world in mynde, And ay coueyten mo and mo. Þou shuldest haue leten me bynde, When y wolde to synne go; But when þe blynde ledeþ þe blynde, In dyk falleþ þay boþ to." 47 (39). Respondit adhuc spiritus ad corpus. "Haa! þou foule fleshe vnsete, Nede þou makes me say: Allas! Þat y seye þe euere ȝete, For al my loue on þe y las. Þat þou louedest me þou lete, And madest me an howe of glas; I dede al þat þe was swete, And þou traytour euere was. 48 (40). Þe fend of helle þat haþ enuy To al mankynde, and ay haþ had, Was euere aboute þe as a spy, To eny gode when y þe bad. Þe world he drowe to company, Þat mony a soul haþ forrad; Þay to wisten al þy foly, And made þe boþ blynde and mad. 49 (41). For when y bad þe schrift take, And lef þy synnes ay and o, Do penaunce, faste and wake, Þe fend saide: 'Shal þou nouȝt so! Þus ȝong al þy ryot forsake, And lede þy lyf in sorwe and wo! Ioye and blisse y rede þe make, And þenk to lyue ȝet ȝeres mo!' 50 (42). And y bad þe lef pryde, Þy meny mes, þy riche shroud, Þe wikkede world stode þe bi syde, And bad þe be queynt and proud, Þy flesch wiþ riche robes shryde, Nouȝt as a beggar in a clout, And on heyȝ hors to ryde Wiþ michel meyne in and out. 51 (43). And when y bad þe erly ryse, And take of me ryȝtly kepe, Þou saydes, þou myȝt noȝt in no wyse For þe mury morneslepe. And when ȝe had set ȝoure assyse, Ȝe þre traitours, sore y wepe; Ȝe led me wiþ ȝoure empryse, As þe belweþer doþ þe shepe. 52 (44). And when ȝe had tolde ȝoure tale, Aȝein me were ȝe alle sworn; Al ȝe helde hit truteuale, Þat euere had y saide beforn. Ȝe led me be doun and dale, As an ox by þe horn, To stede þer him ys browen bale, Þer his þrote shal be shorn. 53 (48). If alle þe men now vnder mone To deme vs were brouȝt on benke, Þe schames þat vs shal be done Ne myȝt þay nouȝt half beþenke. Ne helpeþ vs no maner bede ne bone, Ne vs ne may no wile ne wrenke. Hellehoundes comen ful sone, Fro þaim ne may we neuere slenke." 54 (45). Iterum respondit corpus ad spiritum. And when þe body se þe gast Suche doel and mone make, Hi[t] saide: "Allas! my lyf last, Þat euere y lyued for þy sake! Þat my hert sone ne had brast, When y was fro my moder take, Or ben into a pitte ycast Wiþ a tode or wiþ a snake! 55 (46). For þenne ne had y neuere lerned, What was ille ne what was gode, Ne no catel wiþ wrong ȝerned, Ne pyne þoled, as y now mote; Wheþer no seynt may bed oure erend To him þat bouȝt vs wiþ his blode, Þat we ne be in helle forberned, Þurȝ his mercie to don vs bote." 56 (47). Iterum respondit spiritus ad corpus. "Certes, now it is to late, For to preie or for to preche; Now is þe wayn at þe ȝate, And þy tonge haþ layde þe speche. A poynt of oure peyn to abate, In al þis world þere nys no leche; Þat boþ (ne) shul we gon o gate, Suche is Cristes hard wreche. 57 (49). But haddest þou a litel ere, Whiles vs was lyf togedre lent, So þou feldest þe seke and sere, Schryuen þe and þe deuel schent, And leten renne a reuful tere, And had wile of amendement, Ne þurt vs now haue be in fere, Þat god ne wolde his wile haue went. 58. 59 (50). I ne may no lengere duelle, Ne stonde here to speke wiþ þe; For hellehoundes here y ȝelle, And fendes mo þen y may se, Þat comen to fecche me to helle, Ne may y no gates fle; And þou schalt come in flesch and felle At domesday to wone wiþ me." 60 (51). And when þe gost had þus sayd, Ne wist hit whider hit shulde go, But to it at a wroþly brayd Come a þousand fendes and mo. And sone þay hadden on him layd Þair scharpe clokes alle þo; Hit was in a sory playd, Reuly totered to and fro. 61 (52). For summe were ragged and tailed, And brode bunches on here bak, Sharpe clawes and long nailed; Was non of hem wiþouten lak. On alle halues it was assailed Of meny a deuel boþ blo and blak; Mercie cryyng litel auailed, Seþ god him wolde so hard wrak. 62 (53). Summe his chauels al towrast, And putten him in þe lede al hote; Þay bad he sholde drynke fast, And shenk aboute him alle a brode. A deuel come þere atte last, Þat was mayster, wele y wote, A cultur glowand in him he cast, Þat it þruȝ his hert smote. 63 (54). Glayues glowand summe sette To bak, to brest, to ayther syde, Þat at his hert þe poyntes mette, And made him þe woundes wyde, Þay asked him how wele he lette Þe hert, þat was so ful of pryde; If he had ȝet þat men him hette, For more shulde him sone betyde. 64 (55). Worþy wede for to were Sayde þay þat he louede best; An heuy bryny for to bere Al brennand on him was kest, Wiþ streit hespes for to spere, Þat fast him sat to bak and brest; An helme, þat litel was to bere, Come him and a hors ful prest. 65 (56). Furþe þay brouȝt him at þat tyde A cursed deuel als a cote, Þat loþly loked and ȝaned wyde, Þe leuȝ lemed of his þrote; Wiþ a sadel to midde þe syde, Þat ful of sharpe nailes sote, As he shulde to helle ryde; Al was brennand ilk a crote. 66 (57). He was sone in þat sadel slungen, And shulde to þe turnement; And hundre[d] deuels on him dungen, Here and þere he was hent; At ech a dynt þe sparkes sprungen, As of a brond þat were forbrent; Wiþ hote speres was he stungen, Wiþ yren hokes al torent. 67 (58). And when he had ryden þat rode, Out of þe sadel þere he was sette He was cast doun as a tode, And hellehoundes to him lette, Þat brayden out þe peces brode, Wiþ reuly reymes þay him grette; On alle four forþ he glodde, Þe woundes þruȝ his hert mette. 68 (59). Þay bad him hunt and blow, And cal on Bauȝan and Beaufitz, Racches þat he was woned to know, For sone schuld þay blow priz; And hundred racches on a row Dryden him, vnþank his, To þay come to a loþly low, Helle it was, y wote ywis. 69 (60). When þay come to þat wikkede wone, Þe fendes casten vp a ȝelle; Þe erþe opynede vp anone, Smoke and smoldre vp ther welle; Of þe pyche and of brimstone Men myȝt meny a myle haue smelle. Lord, woo is him bygone, Þat þere shal haue þe haluendelle. 70 (61). Et iudicio dato exclamauit spiritus. And sone þe gost þe soþe seyȝ, Whider it sholde, it kest a crye, And sayde: "God, þat sitte[st] on heyȝ, Of me, þy schup, þou haue mercye! No schope þou me þat art so sleyȝ, And þy creature am y, As meny one þat sittes þe neyȝ, And þat þou hast so wele done by? 71 (62). Þou, god, þat wystest al byforn, Why shope þou me to wroþer hele, To be þus tugged and totorn, Or for to welden eny wele? Þo þat shulden haue ben forlorn, Wele þou myȝtes þaym haue spele; Allas! why lete þou þaym be born, To ȝif þe foule fend so fele?" 72 (63). Þe fendes gan aȝeyn to crie: "Kaytif, helpeþ þe now no more To crie on Jhesu ne on Marie, Ne for to craue Cristes oore. Lorn has þou þayre companie, For serued has þou vs so ȝore; Þy wikkedhede þou schalt abie, As oþere þat lyuen in oure lore." 73 (64). Þe fendes þat of it were fayn, By toþ and tail þay hent it, And slungen hit wiþ a mody mayn Ryȝt into þe deppest pit, Þere neuere sonne schal be sayn; Þay sonken yn þaimself þeremit. Þe erþ loukede itself agayn, And þe donioune was foredit. 74 (65). Euigilans tunc sompniator dixit. And when it stynt, þat lote vngode, Fast gan hit neyȝe þe day; On ech a here a drope stode, For friȝt and ferd þere y lay; To Jhesu Crist wiþ mylde mode So sore y calde and cried ay; So was y ferd, y was neiȝ wode, Þat þay me shulde haue born away. 75 (66). I þonke it him þat suffred ded, His michel mercie and his oore, Þat saued me fro so meny a qued, A synful wrecche as y lay þore. Alle synful y ham red, To shryue ham and rewe sore; For nis no synne in world so gret, Þat Cristes mercie is wele more. 76 (67). But Jhesu, þat vs alle hast wrouȝt, Lord, aftir þy faire face, And wiþ blessed blod vs bouȝt, Of amendement gif vs grace, Þat þy hondwerk lese nouȝt In þy blesful stede a place; But þe ioye þat þou hast to vs wrouȝt, Graunte vs for þy holy grace! Amen. Explicit disputacio inter corpus et animam.