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fol. 53r 4. fol. 65v 25. fol. 66r 34. fol. 69v fol. 70v |
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patris tui. (2) Davith the psalmwruhte speketh i the Sawter towart Godes spuse, thet is, euch meiden thet haveth meidene theawes, ant seith: “Iher me, dohter, bihald ant bei thin eare, ant foryet ti folc ant tines feader hus.” (3) Nim yeme hwet euch word beo sunderliche to seggen: “Iher me, dohter,” he seith. (4) “Dohter” he cleopeth hire, forthi thet ha understonde thet he hire luveliche lives luve leareth, as feader ah his dohter, ant heo him as hire feader the blitheluker lustni. (5) “Iher me, deore dohter,” thet is, “yeornne lustne me with earen of thin heavet.” (6) “Ant bihald,” thet is, “opene to understonde me the ehnen of thin heorte.” (7) “Ant bei thin eare,” thet is, “beo buhsum to mi lare.” (8) Heo mei ondswerien ant seggen: “Ant hwet is nu this lare thet tu nimest se deopliche ant learst me se yeorne?” (9) Low, this: “Forget ti folc ant tines feader hus.” (10) “Thi folc” he cleopeth, Davith, the gederunge inwith the of fleschliche thonkes, the leathieth the ant dreaieth with har procunges to flesliche fulthen, to licomliche lustes, ant eggith the to brudlac ant to weres cluppunge, ant makieth the to thenchen hwuch delit were thrin, hwuch eise i the richedom thet theos leafdis habbeth, hu muche mahte of inker streon | awakenin. (11) A, fals folc of swikel read, as thi muth uleth as thu schawest forth al thet god thuncheth, ant helest al thet bittre bale thet is therunder, ant al thet muchele lure thet terof ariseth! (12) “Forget al this folc, mi deorewurthe dohter,” seith Davith the witege. (13) Thet is, thes thonkes warp ut of thin heorte. (14) This is Babilones folc, the deofles here of Helle, thet is umbe forte leaden into the worldes theowdom Syones dohter. muchel on Englische ledene ase “heh sihthe.” (2) Ant bitacneth this tur the hehnesse of meithhad, the bihald, as of heh, alle widewen under hire ant weddede bathe. (3) For theos, ase flesches threalles, beoth i worldes theowdom ant wunieth lahe on eorthe, ant meiden stont, thurh heh lif, i the tur of Jerusalem. (4) Nawt of lah on eorthe, ah of the hehe in Heovene, the is bitacnet thurh this, of thet Syon ha bihalt al the worlt under hire, ant thurh englene liflade ant heovenlich thet ha lead, thah ha licomliche wunie upon eorthe, ha is as i Syon — the hehe tur of Heovene — freo over alle from worldliche weanen. (5) Ah Babilones folc (thet ich ear nempnede), the deofles here of Helle, thet beoth flesches lustes ant feondes eggunge, weorrith ant warpeth eaver | towart tis tur forte keasten hit adun ant drahen hire into theowdom thet stont se hehe therin ant is icleopet, forthi, Syones dohter. stal of se muche digneté ant swuch wurthschipe as hit is to beo Godes spuse — Jesu Cristes brude, the Lauerdes leofmon thet alle thinges buheth, of al worlt leafdi as He is of al Lauerd, ilich Him in halschipe, unwemmet as He is, ant thet eadi meiden His deorrewurthe moder, ilich His hali engles ant His heste halhen — se freo of hireseolven thet ha nawiht ne thearf of other thing thenchen bute ane of hire Leofmon with treowe luve cwemen, for He wule carie for hire, thet ha haveth itake to, of al thet hire bihoveth hwil ha riht luveth Him with sothe bileave — nis ha thenne sariliche, as ich seide ear, akeast ant into theowdom idrahen, the, of se muchel hehschipe ant se seli freodom schal lihte se lahe into a monnes theowdom, swa thet ha naveth nawt freo of hireseolven, ant trukien, for a mon of lam, the heovenliche Lauerd, ant lutlin hire leafdischipe ase muchel as hire leatere were is leasse wurth ant leasse haveth then hefde ear hire earre, ant of Godes brude ant His freo dohter — for ba togederes ha is — biki|meth theow under mon ant his threl, to don al ant drehen thet him liketh, ne sitte hit hire se uvele, ant of se seli sikernesse as ha wes in ant mahte beon under Godes warde, deth hire into drechunge, to dihten hus ant hinen ant to se monie earmthen, to carien for se feole thing, teonen tholien ant gromen ant scheomen umbe stunde, drehen se moni wa for se wac hure as the worlt foryelt eaver ed ten ende; nis theos witer- liche akeast? (2) Nis this theowdom inoh, ayein thet ilke freolec thet ha hefde hwil ha wes Syones dohter? treowliche ant tu schalt beo freo from alle worldliche weanen. (2) Ne mei nan uvel hearmi the, for as Seinte Pawel seith, alle thing turneth then gode to gode. (3) Ne mei na thing wonti the, the berest Him thet al wealt inwith thi breoste. (4) Ant swuch swettnesse thu schalt ifinden in His luve ant in His servise, ant habbe se muche murhthe throf ant licunge i thin heorte thet tu naldest changin thet stat thet tu livest in forte beo cwen icrunet. (5) Se hende is ure Lauerd thet nule He nawt thet His icorene beon her withute mede, | for se muchel confort is in His grace thet al ham sit thet ha seoth, ant thah hit thunche othre men thet ha drehen hearde, hit ne derveth ham nawt, ah thuncheth ham softe ant habbeth mare delit thrin then ei other habbe i licunge of the worlt. (6) This ure Lauerd yeveth ham her as on earnnesse of eche mede thet schal cume threfter. (7) Thus, habbeth Godes freond al the frut of this worlt thet ha forsaken habbeth o wunderliche wise ant Heovene ed ten ende. se the schal mare trukien, ant servin — hwen thu naldest Godd — thes fikele worlt ant frakele, ant schalt beo sare idervet under hire as hire threal on a thusent wisen, ayeines an licunge habben twa ofthunchunges, ant se ofte beon imaket earm of an ethlich mon thet tu list under, for nawt other for nohtunge, thet te schal lathi thi lif ant bireowe thi sith thet tu eaver dudest te into swuch theowdom for worldliche wunne thet tu wendest to biyeotene, ant havest ifunden weane thrin ant wontrethe rive. (2) Al is thet tu wendest golt iwurthe to meastling. (3) Al is nawt thet ti folc (of hwam I spec thruppe) biheten the to ifinden. (4) Nu thu wast thet ha hab|beth bichearret te as treitres; for under weole, i wunnes stude, thu havest her ofte Helle, ant bute yef thu withbreide the thu bredest te thet other, as doth thes cwenes, thes riche cuntasses, theos modie leafdis of hare liflade. (5) Sothliche, yef ha bithencheth ham riht ant icnawlecheth soth, ich habbe ham to witnesse: ha lickith honi of thornes. (6) Ha buggeth al thet swete with twa dale of bittre (ant thet schal forthre i this writ beon openliche ischawet). (7) Nis hit nower neh gold al thet ter schineth, nat thah, na mon bute hamseolfen hwet ham sticheth ofte. iyeven ant biset on uvele, as gentile wummen meast alle nu on worlde the nabbeth hwerwith buggen ham brudgume onont ham, ant yeoveth ham to theowdom of an etheluker mon with al thet ha habbeth? (2) Weilawe, Jesu Godd, hwuch un- wurthe chaffere! (3) Wel were ham weren ha on hare brudlakes dei iboren to biburien. the prokieth thin heorte thurh licomliche lustes ant leathieth the ant eggith towart thullich theowdom for fleschliche fulthen. (2) Foryet ec thi feader hus, as Davith read threfter. (3) “Thi fea|der” he cleopeth thet untheaw thet streonede the of thi moder: thet ilke unhende flesches brune, thet bearnninde yeohthe of thet licomliche lust bivore thet wleatewile werc, thet bestelich gederunge, thet scheomelese sompnunge, thet ful of fulthe stinkinde ant untohe dede. (4) Hit is thah i wedlac summes weies to tholien, as me schal efter iheren. (5) Yef thu easkest hwi Godd scheop swuch thing to beonne, ich the ondswerie. (6) Godd ne scheop hit neaver swuch, ah Adam ant Eve turnden hit to beo swuch thurh hare sunne ant merden ure cunde, thet is, this untheawes hus, ant haveth, mare hearm is, al to muche lauerdom ant meistrie thrinne. (7) This cunde merreth us thet Davith cleopeth “thi feadres hus” — thet is, the lust of lecherie thet rixleth therwithinnen. (8) Foryet ant ga ut throf with wil of thin heorte, ant Godd wule, efter the wil, yeove the strengthe sikerliche of His deore grace. (9) Ne thearf thu bute wilnin ant leote Godd wurchen. (10) Have trust on His help: ne schalt tu na thing godes bisechen ne biginnen thet He hit nule endin. (11) Eaver bidde His grace, ant overkim with hire help the ilke wake cunde the draheth into theowdom, ant into fulthe fenniliche akeasteth se monie. king wilni thi wlite.” (3) The King of alle kinges desireth the to leofmon. (4) Ant tu | thenne, eadi meiden, thet art iloten to Him with meithhades merke, ne brec thu nawt thet seil thet seileth inc togederes. (5) Halt thi nome thurh hwam thu art to Him iweddet, ne leos thu neaver for a lust ant for ethelich delit of an hondhwile thet ilke thing the ne mei neaver beon acoveret. (6) Meithhad is thet tresor thet, beo hit eanes forloren, ne bith hit neaver ifunden; meithhad is the blostme thet, beo ha fulliche eanes forcorven, ne spruteth ha eft neaver. (7) Ah thah falewi sumchere mid misliche thonkes, ha mei eft grenin neaver the leatere. (8) Meithhad is thet steorre thet, beo ha eanes of the est igan adun i the west, neaver eft ne ariseth ha; meithhad is thet an yeove iyettet te of Heovene. (9) Do thu hit eanes awei ne schalt tu neaver nan other swuch acovrin, for meithhad is Heovene cwen ant worldes alesendnesse, thurh hwam we beoth iborhen, mihte over alle mihtes ant cwemest Crist of alle. (10) Forthi thu ahest, meiden, se deorliche to witen hit, for hit is se heh thing ant se swithe leof Godd ant se licwurthe, ant thet an lure thet is withuten coverunge. (11) Yef hit is Godd leof thet is Himseolf swa ilich hit nis na wunder, for He is leoflukest thing ant buten eavereuch bruche, ant wes eaver ant is cleane over alle thing, ant over alle thinge luveth cleannesse. (12) Ant hwet is lufsumre thing ant mare to herien bimong eorthliche thing then the mihte of meithhad, | bute bruche ant cleane, ibrowden on Himseolven the maketh of eorthlich mon ant wummon Heovene engel, of heame hine, of fa freont, help of thet te hearmith? (13) Ure flesch is ure fa ant heaneth us ant hearmith se ofte as ha us fuleth, ah yef ha wit hire withute bruche cleane, ha is us swithe godd freond ant help of treowe hine. (14) For in hire ant thurh hire thu ofearnest, meiden, to beon englene evening i the eche blisse of Heovene, ant with god rihte, hwen thu hare liflade i thi bruchele flesch bute bruche leadest. (15) Engel ant meiden beoth evening i vertu i meithhades mihte, thah eadinesse ham twinni yetten ant totweame. (16) Ant thah hare meithhad beo eadiure nuthe, thin is the mare strengthe to halden, ant schal with mare mede beo the foryolden. (17) This mihte is thet an thet i this deadliche lif schaweth in hire an estat of the blisse undeadlich i thet eadi lond, as brude ne nimeth gume ne brudgume brude, ant teacheth her on eorthe, in hire liflade, the liflade of Heovene, ant i this worlt thet is icleopet “lond of unlicnesse,” edhalt hire burde in licnesse of heovenlich cunde, thah ha beo utlahe throf ant i licome of lam, ant i bestes bodi neh liveth Heovene engel. (18) Nis | this mihte of alle swithe to herien? (19) This is yet the vertu the halt ure bruchele veat, thet is, ure feble flesch as Seinte Pawel leareth, in hal halinesse. (20) Ant as thet swote smirles ant deorest of othre, thet is icleopet basme, wit thet deade licome thet is therwith ismiret from rotunge, alswa deth meidenhad meidenes cwike flesch withute wemmunge. (21) Halt alse hire limen ant hire fif wittes (sihthe ant herunge, smechunge ant smellunge, ant euch limes felunge) thet ha ne merren ne ne meal- ten, thurh licomliche lustes, i fleschliche fulthen the Godd haveth thurh His grace se muche luve iunnen, thet ha ne beoth of theo iliche bi hwam hit is iwriten thus thurh the prophete thet ha in hare wurthinge as eaveres forroteden — thet is, eavereuch wif thet is hire were threal ant liveth i wurthinge, he ant heo bathe. (22) Ah nis nawt bi theos iseid thet ha forrotieth thrin yef ha hare wedlac laheliche haldeth, ah the ilke sari wrecches the i the fule wurthinge unwedde waleweth beoth the Deofles eaveres, thet rit ham ant spureth ham to don al thet he wule. (23) Theos walewith i wurthinge ant forrotieth thrin athet ha arisen thurh bireowsunge ant healen ham with soth schrift ant with deadbote. te. (2) Ah se thu herre stondest, beo sarre offe|aret to fallen, for se herre degré, se the fal is wurse. (3) The ontfule Deovel bihalt te se hehe istihe towart Heovene thurh meithhades mihte. (4) Thet him is mihte lathest, for thurh ure Leafdi meithhad — the hit bigon earst, the meiden Marie — he forleas the lauerdom on moncun on eorthe, ant wes Helle irobbet ant Heovene bith ifullet. (5) Sith the folhin hire troden, meiden, gan as heo dude the offrede hire meithhad earst to ure Lauerd, for hwon thet He cheas hire bimong alle wummen forte beon His moder ant thurh hire meithhad moncun alesen. (6) Nu bihalt te alde feond ant sith the i this mihte stonde se hehe — ilich hire ant hire Sune, as engel in Heovene, i meithhades menske! — ant toswelleth of grome ant scheoteth niht ant dei his earewen, idrencte of an attri healewi, towart tin heorte, to wundi the with wac wil ant makien to fallen — as Crist te forbeode! (7) Ant eaver se thu strengeluker stondest agein him, se he o teone ant o grome wodeluker weorreth, for swa muche the hokerluker him thuncheth to beon overcumen, thet thing se feble as flesch is (ant nomeliche of wummon) schal him overstihen. (8) Euch fleschlich wil ant lust of leccherie the ariseth i the heorte is thes feondes fla, ah hit ne wundeth the nawt bute hit festni in the ant leave se longe thet tu waldest thet ti wil were ibroht to werke. (9) Hwil | thi wit edstont ant chastieth thi wil, thah thi lust beore to thet te leof were, ne hearmeth hit te nawiht ne suleth thi sawle, for wit is hire scheld under Godes grace. (10) Hwil the scheld is ihal, thet is the wisdom of thi wit, thet hit ne breoke ne beie, thah thi fleschliche wil fals beo therunder ant walde as hire luste, thes feondes flan fleoth ayein alle on him- seolven. dohter, ant ba beoth us inwith. (2) Forthi her is áá feht, ant mot beon áá nede, for ne truketh neaver mare hwil we her wunieth weorre ham bitweonen. (3) Ah wel is him thet folheth Wit, Godes dohter, for ha halt with Meithhad thet is ure suster. (4) Ah thi Wil, on other half, of thet licomliche lust halt with Leccherie, thet is the deofles streon as heo is, ant Sunne hire moder. (5) Leccherie o meithhad with help of fleschlich wil weorreth o this wise: hire forme fulst is sihthe. (6) Yef thu bihaldest ofte ant stikelunge on ei mon, leccherie ananriht greitheth hire with thet to weorrin o thi meithhad ant secheth erst upon hire nebbe to nebbe. (7) Speche is hire other help. (8) Yef ye threfter thenne speoketh togedere folliche ant talkith of unnet, Leccherie seith scheome the menske of thi meithhad ant tuketh hire al to wundre ant | threat to don hire scheome ant hearmin threfter, ant halt hire forewart. (9) For sone se cos kimeth forth (thet is hire thridde fulst) thenne spit Leccherie to scheome ant to schendlac Meithhad o the nebbe. (10) The feorthe fulst to bismere ant to merren Meithhad thet is unhende felunge. (11) Wite hire thenne, for yef ye thenne hondlith ow in ei stude untuliche, thenne smit Leccherie o the mihte of Meithhad ant wundeth hire sare. (12) Thet dreori dede on ende geveth thet deathes-dunt — weila, thet reowthe! (13) Ne acwiketh neaver Meithhad efter thet wunde. (14) Wei! The sehe thenne hu the engles beoth isweamet the seoth hare suster se seorhfuliche aveallet, ant te deoflen hoppin ant, kenchinde, beaten honden togederes — stani were his heorte yef ha ne mealte i teares! thing ant forbuh yeorne thet tus unbotelich lure mahe of arisen. (4) Thet is, on alre earst the stude ant te time the mahten bringe the on mis forte donne. (5) With othre untheawes me mei stondinde fehten, ah ayein lecherie thu most turne the rug yef thu wult overcumen ant with fluht fehten. (6) Ant sothes yef thu thenchest ant bihaldest on heh towart te muchele mede thet meithhad abideth, thu wult leote lihtliche ant abeoren blitheliche the derf thet tu drehest onont ti fleschliche wil ant ti licomes lust, thet tu forberest her | ant ane hwile leavest for blisse thet kimeth throf withuten eani ende. (7) Ant hwuch is the blisse? (8) Low, Godd Himseolf seith thurh the prophete: “Theo the habbeth from ham forcorven flesches lustes ant haldeth Mine Sabaz” (thet is, “haldeth ham i reste from thet fleschliche werc ant haldeth Me forewart”), “Ich bihate ham,” He seith, “i Mi kineriche to yeoven ham stude ant betere nome then sunen ant dehtren.” Hwa mei thenche the weole, the wunne, ant te blisse, the hehschipe of this mede thet tes ilke lut word bicluppeth abuten? (4) “Ich chulle,” He seith, “yeoven ham stude ant nome betere then sunen ant dehtren.” (5) Sulli biheste! (6) Ah hit is ilich thet thet ham is bihaten, to singen with engles (hwas feolahes ha beoth thurh liflade of Heovene theyet ther ha wunieth, fleschliche, on eorthe): to singe thet swete song ant thet englene drem, utnume murie — thet nan halhe ne mei bute meiden ane — singen in Heovene, ant folhin Godd almihti, euch godes ful, hwider se He eaver wendeth as the othre ne mahe nawt, thah ha alle beon His sunen ant alle Hise dehtren. (7) Ne nan of thes othres crunen, ne hare wlite, ne hare weden ne mahen evenin to hare, se unimete brihte ha beoth ant schene to biseon on. eaver | turneth, ant hare fare, se feier bivoren alle the othre? (2) Understond ant nim yeme: al hare song in Heovene is forte herien Godd of His grace ant of His goddede. (3) The iweddede thonkith Him thet ha, lanhure, hwen ha alles walden fallen dune- wart, ne feollen nawt with alle adun for wedlac ham ikepte — the ilke lahe the Godd haveth istald for the unstronge. (4) For wel wiste ure Lauerd thet alle ne mahten nawt halden ham i the hehe of meithhades mihte, ah seide tha He spec throf: Non omnes capiunt verbum istud. (5) “Ne undervoth nawt,” quoth He, “this ilke word alle.” (6) Quis potest capere capiat. (7) “Hwa se hit mei underneomen, underneome, Ich reade,” quoth He. (8) Other is thet Godd hat ant other is thet He reat. (9) The ilke thinges Godd hat thet mon mot nede halden the wule beon iborhen, ant theo beoth to alle men o live iliche imeane. (10) His reades beoth of heh thing ant to His leoveste freond (the lut i thisse worlde) ant derve beoth to fullen, ant lihte thah hwa se haveth riht luve to Him ant treowe bileave. (11) Ah hwa se halt ham earneth him overfullet ful, ant overeorninde met of heovenliche mede. (12) Swuch is meithhades read, thet Godd ne hat nawt ah reat hwuch se His wule beon of the lut of His leoveste freond, ant, as His deorling deore, don His read ant earnin him crune upo crune. (13) Alswa, Seinte Pawel yeveth read to meidnes, thet meidnes beoth as he wes, ant seith thet wel is ham | thet swa ham mahen halden; ne hat he hit nan other weis, for eaver se deorre thing se is dervre to biwitene, ant yef hit were ihaten ant nawt tenne ihalden the bruche were deadlich sunne. (14) Forthi, wes wedlac ilahet in Hali Chirche as bed te seke, to ihente the unstronge the ne mahen stonden i the hehe hul ant se neh Heovene as meithhades mihte. thet He greithede ham lanhure, tha ha walden of meidnes hehschipe, a swuch stude into lihten thet ha neren nawt ihurt, thah ha weren ilahet; ant hwet se ha thrin hurten ham with ealmesdeden healden. (2) This singeth, thenne, iweddede, thet ha, thurh Godes milce ant merci of His grace, tha ha driven dunewart, i wedlac etstutten ant i the bed of His lahe softeliche lihten. (3) For hwa se swa falleth of meithhades menske thet wedlakes hevel bedd nawt ham ne ihente, se ferliche ha driveth dun to ther eorthe thet al ham is tolimet, lith ba ant lire. (4) Theos ne schulen neaver song singen in Heovene ah schulen weimeres leod áámare in Helle, bute yef bireowsunge areare ham to live ant heale ham with soth schrift ant with deadbote; for yef ha thus beoth acwiket ant imaket hale, ha beoth i widewene reng ant schulen i widewene ring bivore the iweddede singen in Heovene. (5) Thet is, thenne, hare song: to herien hare Drihtin | ant thonkin Him yeorne thet His mihte heolt ham i cleanschipe chaste efter thet ha hefden ifondet flesches fulthe ant yettede ham i this worlt to beten hare sunnen. imeane, dream over alle the dreames in Heovene. (2) In heore ring, ther Godd Seolf ant His deore moder — the deorewurthe Meiden, the heovenliche cwen — leadeth i thet eadi trume of schimminde meidnes. (3) Ne moten nane buten heo hoppin ne singen, for thet is áá hare song, thonki Godd ant herien thet He on ham se muche grace yef of Himseolven thet ha forsoken for Him euch eorthlich mon ant heolden ham cleane áá from fleschliche fulthen i bodi ant i breoste, ant i stude of mon of lam token lives Lauerd, the King of hehe blisse, forhwi He mensketh ham se muchel bivoren alle the othre as the brudgume deth his weddede spuse. ure Lauerd, ant tah nawt overal, for i the menske of meithhad ant in hire mihte ne muhe nane folhin Him, ne thet eadi Meiden, englene leafdi ant meidenes menske, bute meidnes ane. (3) Ant forthi is hare aturn se briht ant se schene bivoren alle othre thet ha gath eaver nest Godd hwider se | He turneth. (4) Ant alle ha beoth icrunet the blissith in Heovene with kempene crune, ah the meidnes habbeth, upo theo the is to alle iliche imeane, a gerlondesche schinende schenre then the sunne, “auriole” ihaten o Latines ledene. (5) The flurs the beoth idrahe thron, ne the gimmes thrin, te tellen of hare evene nis na monnes speche. (6) Thus, feole privileges schawith ful sutelliche hwucche beoth ther meidnes, ant sundrith ham from the othre with thus feole mensken, world buten ende. maht, bi the degrez of hare blisse, icnawen hwuch ant bi hu muchel the an passeth the othre. (2) For wedlac haveth frut thrittifald in Heovene, widewehad sixtifald. (3) Meithhad, with hundretfald, overgeath bathe. (4) Loke thenne herbi, hwa se of hire meithhad lihteth into wedlac, bi hu monie degréz ha falleth dunewardes; ha is an hundret degréz ihehet towart Heovene hwil ha meithhad halt, as the frut preoveth, ant leapeth into wedlac — thet is, dun neother to the thrittuthe — over thrie twenti ant yet ma bi tene. (5) Nis this, ed en cherre, a muche lupe dunewart? (6) Ant tah, hit is to tholien ant Godd haveth ilahet hit (as ich ear seide) leste, hwa se leope ant ther ne edstode lanhure, nawt nere thet kepte him ant drive adun swirevorth withuten ike|punge deope into Helle. (7) Of theos nis nawt to speokene, for ha beoth iscrippet ut of lives writ in Heovene. thet tu icnawe therbi hu murie thu maht libben, meiden, i thi meithhad over thet heo libbeth — to-eche the murhthe ant te menske in Heovene thet muth ne mei munnen. (2) Nu thu art iweddet, ant of se heh se lahe iliht: of englene ilicnesse, of Jesu Cristes leofmon, of leafdi in Heovene, into flesches fulthe, into beastes liflade, into monnes theowdom, ant into worldes weane. (3) Sei nu — hwet frut, ant for hwuch thing meast is it al forthi, other ane dale, thervore? (4) Beo nu soth cnawes! (5) Forte keli thi lust with fulthe of thi licome? (6) For Gode, hit is speatewile forte thenche thron, ant forte speoken throf yet speatewilre. (7) Loke thenne hwuch beo thet seolve thing ant thet dede to donne. (8) Al thet fule delit is with fulthe aleid as thu turnest thin hond, ah thet ladliche least leafeth ant lest forth, ant te ofthunchunge throf longe threfter; ant te unseli horlinges the unlaheliche hit hantith habbeth in inwarde Helle: for thet hwilinde lust, endelese pine bute yef heo hit leaven, ant hit on eorthe under schrift bitterliche beten. (9) Forhohe forte don hit, thet te thuncheth uvel of ant eil forte heren; for hwen hit is thullich — ant muchele ladluker then ei welitohe muth for scheome | mahe seggen — hwet maketh hit iluvet bituhhe beasteliche men bute hare muchele untheaw? (10) Thet bereth ham, ase beastes, to al thet ham lusteth, as thah ha nefden wit in ham ne tweire schad — as mon haveth — ba of god ant of uvel, of kumelich ant unkumelich, na mare then beastes thet dumbe neb habbeth! in a time of the yer. (2) Moni halt him to a make ne nule, efter thet lure, neaver neomen other. (3) Ant mon, thet schulde habbe wit ant don al thet he dude efter hire wilnunge, folheth thet fulthe in eaver-euch time ant nimeth an efter an, ant moni (thet is wurse) monie togederes. (4) Lo nu hu this untheaw ne eveneth the nawt ane to wittlese beastes, dumbe ant broke-rugget, ibuhe towart eorthe — thu thet art i wit wraht to Godes ilicnesse, ant iriht bodi up ant heaved towart Heovene, forthi thet tu schuldest thin heorte Heoven thiderwart as thin eritage is ant eorthe forhohien — nim yeme hu this untheaw ne maketh the nawt ane evening ne ilich ham, ah deth muchel eateluker ant mare to witen the forschuptest te seolf, willes ant waldes, into hare cunde. (5) The leoseth thenne se heh thing — the mihte ant te biheve of meithhades menske — for se ful fulthe as is ischawet thruppe, hwa se of engel lihteth to iwurthen lahre | then a beast for se ladli cheaffere, loki hu ha spede! is muche wurth, ant me bihoveth his help to fluttunge ant te fode. (3) Of wif ant weres gederunge worldes weole awakeneth, ant streon of feire children the gleadieth muchel the ealdren.” (4) Nu thu havest iseid tus ant thuncheth thet tu havest iseid soth, ah ich chulle schawin hit al with falsschipe ismethet. (5) Ah on alre earst, hwet weole other wunne se ther eaver of cume, to deore hit bith aboht thet tu the seolf sulest fore ant yevest thin beare bodi to tukin swa to wundre ant feare with se scheomeliche, with swuch uncoverlich lure as meithhades menske is ant te mede, for worldlich biyete. (6) Wa wurthe thet cheaffeare, for ei hwilinde weole sullen meithhad awei, the cwen is of Heovene! (7) For alswa as of this lure nis nan acoverunge, alswa is euch wurth unwurth hertowart. igederet, ant either is alles weis ipaiet of other. (2) Ye, ah hit is seltscene on eorthe. (3) Beo nu thah swuch hare confort ant hare delit, hwerin is hit al meast buten i flesches fulthe other in worldes vanité, the wurtheth al to sorhe ant to sar on ende? (4) Ant nawt ane on | ende ah eaver umbe hwile, for moni thing schal ham wreathen ant gremien ant makie to carien, ant for hare othres uvel sorhin ant siken. (5) Moni thing ham schal twinnin, ant tweamen, thet lath is leovie men, ant deathes dunt on ende either from other, swa thet ne bith hit nanes weis thet tet elne ne schal endin in earmthe. (6) Ant eaver se hare murhthe wes mare togederes, se the sorhe is sarre ed te twinnunge. (7) Wa is him, forthi, as Seint Austin seith, thet is with to muche luve to ei eorthlich thing iteiet, for eaver bith thet swete aboht with twa dale of bittre, ant a fals wunne with moni soth teone. (8) Ah wel is hire thet luveth Godd, for Him ne mei ha nanes weis (bute yef ha lihe Him ant His luve leave) neaver mare leosen, ah schal ifinden Him áá swetture ant savurure from worlde into worlde, áá on ecnesse. therf thu carien for thin anes liveneth, a meoke meiden as thu art ant His deor leofmon the is alre thinge Lauerd, thet He ne mahe lihtliche thet He nule gleadliche ifinde the largeliche al thet te bihoveth. (3) Ant tah thu wone hefdest other drehdest eani derf for His deorew|urthe luve, as the othre doth for monnes, to goder heale thin He hit tholeth to fondi the hwether thu beo treowe, ant greitheth thi mede monifald in Heovene. (4) Under monnes help thu schalt sare beon idervet for his ant for the worldes luve, the beoth ba swikele, ant wakien i moni care nawt ane for the seolf (ase thearf Godes spuse) ah schalt for monie othre, ase wel for the lathe ofte as for the leove, ant mare beon idrechet then ei drivel i the hus other ei ihuret hine, ant tin anes dale bruken ofte with bale ant bitterliche abuggen. (5) Lutel witen herof the selie Godes spuses the, i se swote eise withute swuch trubuil, i gastelich este ant i breoste reste, luvieth the sothe Luve ant in His anes servise hare lif leadeth. (6) Inoh wel ham is her ah unlich elleshwer. (7) Alle worldes weole ham is inoh rive. (8) Al ha habbeth therof thet ha wel wilnith; al thet eaver Godd isith thet ham wule freamien. (9) Ne mei na worldlich unhap bireavin ham hare weole for ha beoth riche ant weolefule inwith i the heorte. (10) Al the este ant al the eise is ther as the othre beoth godlese ant ignahene, nabben ha neaver se muchel withuten i the worlde, for thet ha beoth offearet eaver forte leosen, ant yiscith thah efter muchel muche deale mare. (11) With earmthe biwinneth hit; with fearlac biwiteth hit; forleoseth hit with sorhe. (12) Swinketh | to biyeotene; biyeoteth forte leosen; leoseth forte sorhin. (13) Thus this worldes hweol warpeth ham abuten. (14) Theoves hit steoleth ham; reavers hit robbith. (15) Hare overherren witith ham ant wreatheth. (16) Mohthe fret te clathes ant cwalm sleath thet ahte, ant tah nane of theos ne makie to forwurthen weole ther ase muchel is; eaver se ther mare is, se ma beoth thet hit wastith. (17) Ant nat ich neaver hwi me seith thet heo hit al weldeth, thet, wullen ha nullen ha, biwinneth ant biwiteth hit to se monie othre, nawt ane to hare freond ah to hare fan fulle. (18) Ne habben ne mahen throf — thah ha hit hefden isworen — bute hare anes dale. (19) This is nu forthi iseid thet tu seidest thruppe thet ter walde wakenin of wif ant weres somnunge richesce ant worldes weole, thet tu understonde hu lutel hit freameth ham yet her i this worlt, teke thet hit reaveth ham the hehe riche of Heovene bute ha povre beon therin with halinesse of heorte. worldes weole — the schal nede itiden. (2) Ant hwet yef ha beoth the wone, thet tu nabbe thi wil with him ne weole nowther, ant schalt grevin godles inwith westi wahes, ant te breades wone brede thi bearn-team, ant teke this, liggen under la|thest mon, thet, thah thu hefdest alle weole, he went hit te to weane? (3) For beo hit nu thet te beo richedom rive, ant tine wide wahes wlonke ant weolefule, ant habbe monie under the hirdmen in halle, ant ti were beo the wrath, other iwurthe the lath swa thet inker either heasci with other — hwet worltlich weole mei beo the wunne? (4) Hwen he bith ute havest ayein his cume sar care ant eie. (5) Hwil he bith et hame alle thine wide wanes thuncheth the to nearewe. (6) His lokunge on ageasteth the. (7) His ladliche nurth ant his untohe bere maketh the to agrisen. (8) Chit te ant cheoweth the ant scheomeliche schent te; tuketh the to bismere as huler his hore; beateth the ant busteth the as his ibohte threl ant his ethele theowe. (9) Thine banes aketh the ant ti flesch smeorteth the, thin heorte withinne the swelleth of sar grome ant ti neb utewith tendreth ut of teone. (10) Hwuch shal beo the sompnunge bituhen ow i bedde? (11) Me theo the best luvieth ham tobeoreth ofte thrin, thah ha na semblant ne makien ine marhen, ant ofte of moni nohtunge, ne luvien ha ham neaver swa, bitterliche bi hamseolf teonith either. (12) Heo schal his wil muchel hire unwil drehen — ne luvie ha him neaver swa wel — with muche weane ofte. (13) Alle his fulitohchipes ant his unhende gomenes, ne beon ha neaver swa with fulthe bifunden (nomeliche, i bedde), ha schal, wulle ha nulle ha, tho|lien ham alle. ha beon, for theo the fondith ham meast ifindeth ham forcuthest, ant cleopieth ham selie iwiss the nuten neaver hwet hit is, ant heatieth thet ha hantith. (2) Ah hwa se lith i leifen deope bisuncken, thah him thunche uvel throf, he ne schal nawt up acoverin hwen he walde. (3) Bisih the, seli wummon: beo the cnotte icnut eanes of wedlac, beo he cangun other crupel, beo he hwuch se he eaver beo, thu most to him halden. (4) Yef thu art feier ant with gleade chere bicleopest alle feire, ne schalt tu o nane wise wite the with unword ne with uvel blame. (5) Yef thu art unwurthlich and wratheliche ilatet thu maht — ba to othre ant to thi were — iwurthen the unwurthre. (6) Yef thu iwurthest him unwurth ant he as unwurth the, other yef thu him muche luvest ant he let lutel to the, hit greveth the se swithe thet tu wult inohreathe (ase monie doth) makien him poisun ant yeoven bale i bote stude; other, hwa se swa nule don medi with wicchen ant forsaken forte drahen his luve towart hire Crist ant hire Cristendom ant rihte bileave. (7) Nu hwet blisse mei theos bruken the luveth hire were wel ant ha habbe his laththe other cunqueari his luve o thulliche wise? beoth igederet? (2) Yef ha ne mei nawt temen ha is icleopet gealde. (3) Hire lauerd luveth hire ant wurthgeth the leasse, ant heo, as theo thet wurst is throf, biwepeth hire wurthes ant cleopeth ham wunne ant weolefule the temeth hare teames. loki we hwuch wunne throf hire iwurthe: i the streonunge throf, is anan hire flesch with thet fulthe ituket (as hit is ear ishawet); i the burtherne throf is hevinesse ant heard sar eaver umbe stunde; in his iborenesse alre stiche strengest ant death otherhwiles; in his fostrunge forth moni earm-hwile. (2) Sone se hit lihteth i this lif mare hit bringeth with him care then blisse, nomeliche to the moder. (3) For yef hit is misboren — as hit ilome ilimpeth — ant wonti ei of his limen other sum misfeare, hit is sorhe to hire ant to al his cun scheome, upbrud in uvel muth, tale bimong alle. (4) Yef hit wel iboren is ant thuncheth wel forthlich, fearlac of his lure is anan with him iboren; for nis ha neaver bute care leste hit misfeare, athet owther of ham twa ear leose other. (5) Ant ofte hit itimeth thet tet leoveste bearn ant iboht bitterlukest sorheth ant sweameth meast his ealdren on ende. (6) Nu hwet wunne haveth the moder, the | haveth of thet forschuppet bearn sar ant scheome bathe, ant fearlac of thet forthlich athet ha hit leose? ne for dred of Helle — thu ahtest, wummon, this werc for thi flesches halschipe, for thi licomes luve, ant ti bodies heale over alle thing to schunien. (2) For ase Seinte Pawel seith, euch sunne thet me deth is withute the bodi bute this ane. (3) Alle the othre sunnen ne beoth bute sunnen, ah this is sunne, ant ec uncumelecheth the ant unwurdthgeth thi bodi, suleth thi sawle ant maketh schuldi towart Godd ant fuleth thi flesch ec. (4) Gultest o twa half. (5) Wreathest then Alwealdent with thet suti sunne ant dest woh to the seolf, thet tu al willes se scheomeliche tukest. (6) Ga we nu forthre ant loki we hwuch wunne ariseth threfter i burtherne of bearne, hwen thet streon in the awakeneth ant waxeth, ant hu monie earmthen anan awakenith therwith, the wurcheth the wa inoh, fehteth o thi seolve flesch ant weorrith with feole weanen o thin ahne cunde. (7) Thi rudie neb schal leanin ant ase gres grenin. (8) Thine ehnen schule doskin ant underneothe wonnin, ant of thi breines turnunge thin heaved aken sare. (9) Inwith, i thi wombe, swel in thi butte the bereth the forth as a weater-bulge, thine thearmes thralunge ant stiches i thi lonke, ant i thi lendene sar eche rive, | hevinesse in euch lim, thine breostes burtherne o thine twa pappes, ant te milcstrunden the the of striketh. (10) Al is with a weolewunge thi wlite overwarpen, thi muth is bitter, ant walh al thet tu cheowest. (11) Ant hwet mete se thi mahe hokerliche underveth (thet is, with unlust) warpeth hit eft ut. (12) Inwith al thi weole ant ti weres wunne forwurthest a wrecche. (13) The cares ayein thi pinunge thraen bineometh the nahtes slepes. (14) Hwen hit thenne therto kimeth, thet sore sorhfule angoise, thet stronge ant stikinde stiche, thet unroles uvel, thet pine over pine, thet wondrinde yeomerunge, hwil thu swenchest terwith ant thine deathes dute; scheome teke thet sar with the alde wifes scheome creft, the cunnen of thet wa-sith, hwas help the bihoveth, ne beo hit neaver se uncumelich; ant nede most hit tholien, thet te therin itimeth. thet ure alre modres drehden on us seolven, ah we schawith ham forth forte warni meidnes thet ha beon the leasse efterwart swuch thing ant witen herthurh the betere hwet ham beo to donne. schal abute midniht makie the to wakien, other theo thet ti stude halts (the thu most for carien). (2) Ant, hwet! — the cader fulthen ant bearmes | umbe stunde, to feskin ant to fostrin hit se moni earm-hwile, ant his waxunge se let, ant se slaw his thriftre! (3) Ant eaver habbe sar care ant lokin efter al this hwenne hit forwurthe, ant bringe on his moder sorhe upo sorhe. (4) Thah thu riche beo ant nurrice habbe thu most, as moder, carien for al thet hire limpeth to donne. in ane lut wordes: Tribulaciones carnis et cetera. (2) Thet is on Englisch: “theo thet thulliche beoth schulen derf drehen.” (3) Hwa se thencheth on al this, ant o mare thet ter is, ant nule withbuhe thet thing thet hit al of awakeneth, ha is heardre- iheortet then adamantines stan ant mare amead (yef ha mei) then is meadschipe seolf. (4) Hire ahne fa ant hire feont, heateth hireseolfen. hare werc se wleateful the ha wurcheth imeane, ne of thet sar ne of thet sut i the burtherne of bearn ant his iborenesse, of nurrices wecches, ne of hire wa-sithes of thet fode fostrunge, hu muchel ha schule ed eanes in his muth famplin nowther to bigan hit ne his cader-clutes. (2) Thah this beon of to speokene unwurthliche thinges, thes the mare ha schawith i hwuch theodom wifes beoth, the thullich mote drehen, | ant meidnes i hwuch freodom, the freo beoth from ham alle. (3) Ant hwet yef ich easki yet — thah hit thunche egede — hu thet wif stonde the ihereth hwen ha kimeth in hire bearn schreamen, sith the cat et te fliche ant ed te hude the hund, hire cake bearnen o the stan ant hire kelf suken, the crohe eornen i the fur, ant te cheorl chideth? (4) Thah hit beo egede i sahe, hit ah, meiden, to eggi the swithre therfrommart, for nawt ne thuncheth hit hire egede thet hit fondeth! (5) Ne therf thet seli meiden, thet haveth al idon hire ut of thullich theowdom as Godes freo dohter ant His Sunes spuse, drehe nawiht swucches. to don withuten euch hure, for nu ich habbe ihalden min biheaste thruppe: thet ich walde schawin with falschipe ismethet thet te moni an seith (ant thuncheth thet hit soth beo) of the selhthe ant te sy thet te iweddede habbeth, thet hit ne feareth nawt swa as weneth thet sith utewith ah feareth al otherweis, of poure ba ant riche, of lathe ba ant leovie, thet te weane ihwer passeth the wunne, ant te lure overal al the biyete. hercne his read, thet he the i the frumthe of this writ readde. (2) “Foryet ti folc,” thet liheth the of weres ant worldes wunne, thet beoth thine thohtes the swikelliche lea|thieth the towart alle weane. (3) Ant “forsac thi feader hus,” as hit is thruppe iopenet, ant tac the to Him treowliche. (4) With him thu schalt wealden — as with thi were iweddet — worlt buten ende, heovenliche wunnen. (5) Eadi is His spuse, hwas meithhad is unwemmet hwen He on hire streoneth; ant hwen ha temeth of Him ne swinketh ne ne pineth. (6) Eadi is the Were hwen nan ne mei beo meiden bute yef heo Him luvie, ne freo bute yef heo Him servi, hwas streon is undeathlich ant hwas marhe-yeve is the kinedom of Heovene. (7) Nu thenne, seli meiden, yef the is weole leof, nim the Him to Lauerd thet wealdeth al thet is ant wes ant eaver schal iwurthen. (8) For thah He beo richest Him ane over alle, the alre measte povre the Him to were cheoseth is Him wel icweme. (9) Yef thet tu wilnest were the muche wlite habbe, nim Him of hwas wlite beoth awundret of the sunne ant te mone, upo hwas nebscheft the engles ne beoth neaver fulle to bihalden. (10) For hwen He yeveth feirlec to al thet is feier in Heovene ant in eorthe, muchele mare He haveth withuten ei etlunge ethalden to Himseolven. (11) Ant thah hwen He thus is alre thinge feherest, He underveth blitheliche ant bicluppeth swoteliche the alre ladlukeste ant maketh ham seove sithe schenre then the sunne. meithhad, te|men dehtren ant sunen of gasteliche teames, the neaver deie ne mahen ah schulen áá bivore the pleien in Heovene, thet beoth the vertuz thet He streoneth in the thurh His swete grace, as rihtwissnesse ant warschipe ayeines untheawes, mesure ant mete ant gastelich strengthe to withstonde the feond ant ayein sunne, simplete of semblant, buhsumnesse ant stilthe, tholemodnesse ant reowfulnesse of euch monnes sorhe, gleadschipe i the Hali Gast ant pes i thi breoste of onde ant of wreaththe, of yisceunge ant of euch untheawes weorre, mekelec ant miltschipe ant swotnesse of heorte, the limpeth — alre thinge best — to meithhades mihte. (2) This is meidenes team, Godes Sune spuse, thet schal áá libben ant pleien buten ende bivoren hire in Heovene. onde, other wreaththe, yisceunge, other wac wil inwith i thin heorte — thu forhorest te with the unwiht of Helle, ant he streoneth on the the team thet tu temest. (2) Hwen thi Were alwealdent, thet tu the to weddest, sith ant understont tis, thet His fa forlith the ant thet tu temest of him thet Him is teame lathest, He forheccheth the anan (as hit nis na wunder!) ant cwetheth the al cwite him thet tu of temest. (3) Ne kepeth He with na mon, ant hure with His famon, nan half dale. (4) The luvieth eawiht | buten Him — ant hwet se ha for Him luvieth — ha wreatheth Him swithe. for heo of alle untheawes is his ealdeste dohter. (2) Earst ha wakenede of him theyet he wes in Heovene, forneh with him evenald, ant swa ha keaste hire feader sone se ha ibore wes, from the heste Heovene into Helle grunde, bute coverunge, ant makede of heh-engel eatelukest deofel. (3) The thus adun duste hire heovenliche feader, hwet wule ha don bi hire eorthliche modres the temeth hire in horedom of then lathe Unwiht, the hellene schucke? (4) Hwen Godd se wracfulliche fordemde His heh-engel the streonede hire in Heovene, hwet wule He don bi thet lam ant wurmene mete the of the Deofel temeth hire in eawbruche on eorthe? (5) Yef thu havest, with meithhad, meokelec ant mildschipe, Godd is i thin heorte, ah yef ther is overhohe other ei prude in, He is utlahe throf; for ne muhen ha nanes weis beddin in a breoste, ne ne muhen nawt somet eardin in Heovene. (6) Theonne Godd weorp hire sone se ha iboren wes, ant as thah ha nuste hwuch wei ha come theonewart, ne con ha neaver mare ifinden nan wei ayeinwart, ah eardinde her on eorthe bihat eche wununge alle hire modres, al beon ha meidnes, with hire awea|riede feader in inwarde Helle. evene, ant cleaneste breosten bredeth hire yetten. (3) The beste ha asaileth, ant wel ha der hopien to beo kempe over mon, the overcom engel. (4) Nis ha nawt i clathes ne i feahunge utewith (thah hit beo merke throf ant makunge otherhwiles), ah under hwit other blac, ant ase wel under grei ase under grene, ant áá ha luteth i the heorte. (5) Sone se thu telest te betere then another, beo hit hwervore se hit eaver beo, ant havest of ei overhohe, ant thuncheth hofles ant hoker of eawt thet me seith the other deth yetten, thu merrest thin meithhad ant brekest ti wedlac towart Godd ant of His fa temest. (2) For alswa as a charbucle is betere then a jacinct i the evene of hare cunde, ant thah is betere a briht jacinct then a charbucle won, alswa passeth meiden, onont te mihte of meithhad, widewen ant iweddede; ant tah is betere a milde wif other a meoke widewe then a prud meiden. (3) For theos, for hare sunnen thet ha i flesches fulthe folhith other fulieth, leoteth ham lahe ant ethliche, ant beoth sare ofdret of Godes luthere eie; ant as the eadi sunegilt Marie Magdaleine, with bittre wopes bireowsith hare gultes ant inwardluker luvieth Godd, alswa as heo | dude, for hare forgevenesse. (4) Ant te othre, the haldeth ham unforgult ant cleane, beoth ase sikere unlusti ant wlecche. (5) Unneathe liveth i Godes luve, withuten euch heate of the Hali Gast the bearneth se lihte withute wastinde, brune in alle His icorene. (6) Ant te othre, in an heate of an honthwile, beoth imelt mare ant iyotten i Godd then the othre in a wlecheunge al hare lifsithen. meithhad withuten other god ant theawfule mihtes ant over al, miltschipe ant meokeschipe of heorte, efter the forbisne of thet eadi meiden over alle othre, Marie, Godes moder. (2) For tha the hehengel Gabriel grette hire ant brohte hire to tidinge of Godes akennesse, loke hu lah ha lette hire, tha ha ontswerede thus bi hireseolven. (3) “Efter thi word,” quoth ha, “mote me iwurthen. (4) Low, her mi Lauerdes threl.” (5) Ant tah ha ful were of alle gode theawes, ane of hire meokelec ha seide ant song to Elizabeth. (6) “For mi Lauerd biseh His thuftenes meokelec, me schulen cleopien,” quoth ha, “eadi alle leoden.” (7) Nim yeme, meiden, ant understont herbi thet mare for hire meokelec then for hire meithhad ha lette thet ha ifont swuch grace ed ure Lauerd. (8) For al meithhad, meokelec is muche wurth, ant meithhad withuten hit is ethelich ant unwurth; for alswa is meiden i meithhad bu|te meokeschipe as is withute liht eolie in a lampe. schine ase sunne i thi Weres sihthe. (2) Feahi thi meithhad with alle gode theawes the thuncheth Him feire. (3) Have eaver i thin heorte the eadieste of meidnes ant meithhades moder, ant bisech hire áá thet ha the lihte ant yeove luve ant strengthe for te folhin i meithhad hire theawes. (4) Thench o Seinte Katerrine, o Seinte Margarete, Seinte Enneis, Seinte Juliene, ant Seinte Cecille, ant o the othre hali meidnes in Heovene: hu ha nawt ane ne forsoken kinges sunes ant eorles, with alle worldliche weolen ant eorthliche wunnen, ah tholeden stronge pinen ear ha walden neomen ham ant derf death on ende. (5) Thench hu wel ham is nu ant hu ha blissith thervore bituhe Godes earmes, cwenes of Heovene. (6) Ant yef hit eaver timeth thet ti licomes lust — thurh the false feont — leathie the towart flesliche fulthen, ontswere i thi thoht thus: “Ne geineth the nawt, sweoke! (7) Thullich ich chulle beon in meidenes liflade, ilich Heovene engel. (8) Ich chulle halde me hal thurh the grace of Godd, as cunde me makede, thet Paraise selhthe undervo me al, swuch as weren ear ha agulten his eareste hinen. (9) Allunge swuch ich chulle beon as is mi deore Leofmon, mi deorewurthe La|uerd, ant as thet eadi meiden the He Him cheas to moder. (10) Al swuch ich chulle wite me treowliche unwemmet, as ich am Him iweddet, ne nulle ich nawt, for a lust of ane lutle hwile (thah hit thunche delit) awei warpe thet thing hwas lure ich schal biremen withuten coverunge ant with eche brune abuggen in Helle. (11) Thu wrenchful ful wiht! (12) Al for nawt thu prokest me to forgulten ant forgan the blisse upo blisse, the crune upo crune of meidenes mede, ant willes ant waldes warpe me as wrecche i thi leirwite, ant for thet englene song of meithhades menske, with the ant with thine greden áá ant granin i the eche grure of Helle.” schal fleo the with scheome. (2) Ant yef he alles efter this inohreathe etstonde ant halt on to eili thi flesch ant prokie thin heorte, thi Lauerd Godd hit theaveth him, to muchli thi mede. (3) For as Seinte Pawel seith: “ne bith nan icrunet bute hwa se treoweliche i thulli feht fehte ant with strong cokkunge overcume hire seolf.” (4) For thenne is the Deofel with his ahne turn scheomeliche awarpen hwen thu, as the Apostle seith ne schalt tu beon icrunet bute thu beo asailet. (5) Yef Godd wule cruni the, He wule leote ful wel the | Unwiht asaili the thet tu earni, therthurh, kempene crune. (6) Forthi, hit is the meast god thet hwen he greveth the meast ant towart te with fondunge wodeluker weorreth yef thu wel wrist te under Godes wengen. (7) For thurh his weorre he yarketh the (unthonc in his teth) the blisse ant te crune of Cristes icorene. luve of lami mon forte beon His leofmon, ant leve ham swa hare heorte halden to Him thet hare flesches eggunge, ne the feondes fondunge, ne nan of his eorthliche limen ne wori hare heorte-wit ne wrenche ham ut of the wei thet ha beoth in iyongen, ant helpe ham swa in Him to hehin towart Heovene, athet ha beon istihe thider as hare brudlac schal, in al thet eaver sel is, with thene seli Brudgume thet siheth alle selhthe of sitten buten ende. (2) AMEN. |
home of your father. (2) David the psalm-writer speaks in the Psalter to God’s spouse, that is, every maiden that has maidens’ virtues, and says: “Hear me, daughter, behold and bend your ear, and forget your folk and your father’s house.” (3) Take heed of what each word separately says: “Hear me, daughter,” he says. (4) “Daughter,” he calls her, so that she understand that he teaches her lovingly love of life, as a father ought to do for his daughter, and so that she listen to him as her father the more gladly. (5) “Hear me, dear daughter,” that is, “carefully listen to me with the ears of your head.” (6) “And behold,” that is, “open the eyes of your heart to understand me.” (7) “And bend your ear,” that is, “be obedient to my teaching.” (8) She may answer and say: “And what now is this teaching that you take so seriously, and teach me so carefully?” (9) Lo, this: “Forget your folk and your father’s house.” (10) “Your folk,” he, David, calls, the gathering inside you of fleshly thoughts, which incite and draw you with their prickings to fleshly filths, to bodily desires, and egg you on to wedlock and to a husband’s embrace, and make you imagine what delight would be in it, what ease in the riches that these ladies have, how much might arise from your children. (11) Ah, false folk of deceitful counsel, how your mouth flatters as you put forth all that seems good, and conceal all that bitter bale that is underneath, and all that great loss that arises from it! (12) “Forget all this folk, my beloved daughter,” says David the prophet. (13) That is, cast these thoughts out of your heart. (14) This is Babylon’s folk, the devil’s army of Hell, which aims to lead Syon’s daughter into the world’s bondage. the same as “ high sight” in the English language. (2) And this tower betokens the high rank of maidenhood, which beholds, as from on high, both all widows and the wedded underneath her. (3) For these, as thralls of the flesh, are in the world’s bondage and dwell low on the earth, and a maiden stands, through the lofty life, in the tower of Jerusalem. (4) Not from low of earth, but from the height of Heaven, which is signified through this, from that Sion she beholds all the world under her, and through the angelic and heavenly life that she leads, although she dwells bodily upon the earth, she is as if in Syon — the high tower of Heaven — completely free from the world’s miseries. (5) But Babylon’s folk (which I mentioned earlier), the devil’s army of Hell, which are the lusts of the flesh and the egging on of the fiends, make war and always assail this tower to cast it down and drag her into slavery who stands so high inside and who is called, because of this, Syon’s daughter. high a place, from so much dignity and such worship as it is to be God’s spouse — Jesus Christ’s bride, the Lord’s lover whom all things obey, lady of all the world as he is Lord of all, like Him in wholeness, unblemished as He is, and that blessed maiden His dear mother, like His holy angels and His highest saints — so free from herself that she need not at all think of any other thing except only of how to please her Lover with true love, for He will provide for her, He whom she has taken, everything that she needs while she loves Him rightly with true belief — is not she then grievously, as I said before, cast down and dragged into slavery, who from so much eminence and such blessed freedom shall descend so low into a man’s slavery, so that she has nothing free of her own, and shall leave, for a man of clay, the heavenly Lord, and lessen her ladyship by as much as her latter husband is worth less and has less than her former one had, and from God’s bride and his free daughter — for she is both together — she becomes a slave under a man and his thrall, to do everything and to endure what pleases him, however badly it sits with her, and from such holy security as she was in and could have been under God’s protection, puts herself into drudgery, to manage household and servants, so many miseries, to see to so many things, to endure adversities and annoyances and sometimes shames, to suffer so many woes for so poor a wage as the world ever pays in the end; is not this maiden truly cast down? (2) Is this not slavery aplenty, in exchange for that same freedom that she had while she was Syon’s daughter? yourself truly to Him and you will be free from all worldly sorrows. (2) Nor may any evil harm you, for as Saint Paul says, all things turn out well for the good. (3) Nor can anything be lacking for you who carry Him who rules everything inwardly in your heart. (4) And you will find so much sweetness in His love and in His service, and have so much mirth from it and pleasure in your heart that you would not exchange that state that you live in to be a crowned queen. (5) So gracious is our Lord that He does not wish that His chosen be here without reward, for there is so much comfort in His grace that all that they see suits them, and though it may seem to others that they suffer bitterly, it does not hurt them at all, but seems soft to them and they have more delight in it than any other has in pleasure of the world. (6) Our Lord gives them this here as a pledge of the eternal reward that will come afterward. (7) Thus God’s friends have all the fruit of this world that they have forsaken and, in a wondrous way, Heaven at the end. the more you have, the more it will fail you, and you will serve — when you would not serve God — this fickle and foul world, and you will be terribly troubled under her as her thrall in a thousand ways, in place of one pleasure you have two displeasures, and so often be made wretched for the worthless man that you lie under, for nothing or a trifle, you will loathe your life and regret your actions that you ever put yourself into such slavery for worldly joy that you expected to gain, and have misery and hardship aplenty there. (2) All that you thought gold becomes brass. (3) All is nothing that your folk (of whom I spoke earlier) promised you would find. (4) Now you know that they have tricked you like traitors, for under joy, in place of happiness, you often have Hell here, and unless you withdraw yourself you breed for yourself that other [Hell], as do these queens, these rich countesses, these proud ladies from their lives. (5) Truly, if they consider rightly and confess the truth, I take them to witness: they lick honey from thorns. (6) They buy all that sweetness with two parts of bitterness (and that will be shown clearly further on in this writing). (7) All that shines there is not by any means gold, though no one except themselves knows what often pricks them. thily given in marriage and evilly provided for, like almost all gentle women in the world now who do not have the wherewithal to buy themselves a bridegroom of the same rank as themselves, and who give themselves to slavery for a more worthless man with everything that they have? (2) Weilaway, Jesus God, what a worthless trade! (3) It would be better for them were they taken to be buried on their wedding day. with the thoughts that prick your heart through bodily desires and which invite you and egg you on towards such slavery for fleshly filth. (2) Forget also your father’s house, as David advises next. (3) “Your father,” he calls that wantonness which begot you on your mother: that same filthy flesh’s flame, that burning itch of that bodily desire before that disgusting act, that beastly gathering, that shameless union, that stinking and wanton deed full of filth. (4) It still is to be suffered in wedlock in some ways, as you will hear later. (5) If you ask why God made such a thing to be, I will answer you. (6) God never shaped it so, but Adam and Eve changed it to be like this through their sin and marred our nature, that is, the house of this wantonness, in which it has, even worse, all too much lordship and mastery. (7) This nature mars us that David calls “your father’s house” — that is, the lust for lechery that rules inside it. (8) Forget and go out of it with the will of your heart, and God will, according to that will, certainly give you strength from His dear grace. (9) You need only will it, and let God do the work. (10) Have trust in His help: you will neither ask for nor undertake anything good that He will not carry out. (11) Always pray for His grace, and overcome with its help the same weak nature that drags you into slavery, and miserably casts so many into the muck. desire your beauty.” (3) The King of all kings desires you as a lover. (4) And you then, blessed maiden, who are assigned to him with the mark of maidenhood, do not ever break that seal which seals you both together. (5) Keep your name through which you are wedded to Him, and never lose for a desire and for the worthless delight of a moment that same thing which may never be recovered. (6) Maidenhood is that treasure that once it be lost, may never be found; maidenhood is that blossom that, once it be fully cut, never sprouts afterward. (7) Although it withers sometimes with wandering thoughts, it can still grow green afterward. (8) Maidenhood is that star that, once it goes down from the east into the west, will never after will rise again; maidenhood is that one gift given to you from Heaven. (9) Throw it away once, and you will never recover any other like it, for maidenhood is the queen of Heaven and the world’s redemption, through which we are saved, strength over all strengths and of all things most pleasing to Christ. (10) Therefore you ought, maiden, to guard it so dearly, for it is so great a thing and so very beloved to God and so praiseworthy, and that one loss that is without recovery. (11) It is no wonder if it is beloved to God who is Himself so similar, for he is the loveliest thing and without any breach, and ever was and is clean above all things, and over all things loves cleanness. (12) And what is a lovelier thing and more praiseworthy among earthly things than the might of maidenhood, without breach and clean, resembling Himself, who makes from an earthly man and woman an angel of Heaven, from the churl a servant, from the foe a friend, help from that which harms you? (13) Our flesh is our foe and hurts us and harms us as often as it befouls us, but if it keeps itself clean without breach, then it is a very good friend for us and the help of a true servant. (14) For in it and through it you deserve, maiden, to be the equal of angels in the eternal bliss of Heaven, and with good reason, when you lead their life in your frail flesh without breach. (15) Angel and maiden are equal in virtue through the might of maidenhood, though holiness may still part and separate them. (16) And though their maidenhood may be more blessed now, yours takes more strength to guard, and will be rewarded with a greater gift to you. (17) This power is that one that in this mortal life shows in it one state of the immortal bliss in that blessed land, where bride does not take bridegroom nor bridegroom bride, and teaches here on earth, in its own way of life, the life of Heaven, and in this world that is called the “land of unlikeness,” keeps to its original nature in likeness of heavenly nature, although it is an exile from there and in a body of clay, and in a beast’s body lives almost like an angel of Heaven. (18) Is not this power, over everything else, very worthy of praise? (19) This is yet the virtue that holds our frail vessel, that is, our feeble flesh as Saint Paul teaches, in complete holiness. (20) And as that sweet and most precious ointment above all others, which is called balm, protects that dead body that is anointed with it from rotting, so does maidenhood keep the maiden’s flesh alive without corruption. (21) It also guards her limbs and her five senses (sight and hearing, tasting and smelling, and each limbs’ sensation) so that those upon whom God has bestowed so much love through His grace do not come to harm nor dissolve, through bodily desires, into fleshly filth, and so that they are not like those about whom it is written by the prophet in this way, that they rotted in their dung as do boars — that is, every wife who is thrall to her husband and lives in dung, he and she both. (22) But by this it does not mean that they rot in there if they lawfully keep their marriage, but the same sorry wretches who wallow unwedded in the foul dung are the beasts of the Devil, who rides them and spurs them to do all that he wishes. (23) These wallow in dung and rot in there until they arise through repentance and heal themselves with true confession and with penance. hood holds you. (2) But the higher you stand, the more sorely you should be afraid to fall, for the higher the degree, the worse the fall. (3) The envious Devil sees you risen so high towards Heaven through maidenhood’s might. (4) That might is most loathsome to him, for through our Lady’s maidenhood — who first began it, the maiden Mary — he lost the lordship over humankind on earth, and Hell was robbed and Heaven will be filled. (5) He sees you follow in her footsteps, maiden, and go as did she who offered her maidenhood first to our Lord, at the time when He chose her among all women to be His mother and through her maidenhood to redeem humankind. (6) Now the old fiend beholds you and sees you stand so high in this might — like her and her Son, as an angel in Heaven, in maidenhood’s honor! — and he swells from rage and shoots his arrows night and day, dipped in a poisonous ointment, towards your heart to wound you with a weak will and make you fall — may Christ forbid it! (7) And ever the more strongly you stand against him, the more madly he attacks in wrath and in rage, for it seems to him so much more shameful to be overcome, that a thing as feeble as the flesh is (and namely of a woman) should surpass him. (8) Each fleshly wish and desire for lechery that arises in the heart is this fiend’s arrow, but it wounds you not at all unless it fastens inside you and remains so long that you wish that your desire were out in action. (9) While your wit stands firm and controls your will, though your desire is inclined to that which would be pleasing to you, it neither harms you at all nor soils your soul, for wit is its shield under God’s grace. (10) While the shield is whole — that is, the judgment of your reason — so that it neither breaks nor bends, though your fleshly will is false under it and would do as it desired, this fiend’s arrows all fly back on himself. God’s daughter, and both are within us. (2) Therefore here there is always battle and must always be out of necessity, for the war between them never ceases while we dwell here. (3) But well it is for him who follows Wit, God’s daughter, for she stands with Maidenhood who is our sister. (4) But your Will, on the other hand, out of that bodily lust, stands with Lechery who, as she is, is the devil’s child, and Sin her mother. (5) Lechery wages war upon Maidenhood in this way with the help of fleshly will: her first help is sight. (6) If you look often and intently upon any man, right away Lechery readies herself with that to wage war on your maidenhood, and she first advances on her face to face. (7) Speech is her other help. (8) If after that you then speak together foolishly and talk about silly things, Lechery speaks shame about the power of your maidenhood and reviles her scandalously and threatens to put her to shame and to harm her thereafter, and she keeps her vow. (9) For as soon as the kiss comes forth (which is her third help), then Lechery spits at Maidenhood in the face to her shame and to her disgrace. (10) The fourth help to besmear and mar Maidenhood is indecent touching. (11) Guard her then, for if you then handle each other improperly in any place, then Lechery smites upon the might of Maidenhood and wounds her terribly. (12) That dreary deed in the end gives the death-blow — alas, what a pity! (13) Maidenhood never revives after that wound. (14) Alas! Whoever then sees how upset the angels are who see their sister so sorrowfully overthrown, and the devils hop and, leering, clap their hands together — stony would be his heart if he did not dissolve into tears! thief. (3) Flee all those things and shun earnestly that from which irremediable loss can arise in this way. (4) That is, first of all the place and the time that might lead you to do amiss. (5) Against other vices you may fight standing, but against lechery you must turn your back if you wish to overcome it and fight it with flight. (6) And truly if you think and behold on high toward the great reward that awaits maidenhood, you will take it lightly and blithely bear the difficulty that you endure concerning your fleshly will and your body’s lust, which you shun here and give up for a time, in exchange for the bliss that comes from it without any end. (7) And what is this bliss? (8) Lo, God Himself says through the prophet: “Those who have cut out the flesh’s lusts from themselves and hold My Sabbath,” (that is: “keep themselves in rest from that fleshly deed and keep their promise to Me”), “I promise,” he says, “to give them a place in My kingdom and a better name than sons and daughters.” can imagine the happiness, the joy, and the bliss, the eminence of this reward that this same short word contains? (4) “I will,” He says, “give them a place and a name better than sons and daughters.” (5) Wondrous promise! (6) But it is like the one that is promised to them, to sing with the angels (whose fellows they are through the lifestyle of Heaven though still they dwell there, bodily, on earth): to sing that sweet song and that angels’ music, especially joyful — which no saint can do but a maiden only — to sing in Heaven, and to follow God almighty, full of every good, wherever He goes as those others cannot, though they are all His sons and all His daughters. (7) And none of these others’ crowns, nor their beauty, nor their clothes can compare to theirs, so immeasurably bright they are and shining to look upon. so ever He turns, and their fortune, so fair before all the others? (2) Understand and take heed: their entire song in Heaven is to praise God for His grace and for His goodness. (3) The wedded thank Him that they, at least, when they all would fall downward, did not fall down with everyone because wedlock protected them — the same law that God established for the weak. (4) For well did our Lord know that not everyone could hold themselves high in the might of maidenhood, but said when he spoke of it: Not all take that word. (5) “Not everyone may receive,” said he, “this same word.” (6) He who is able to take it may take it. (7) “Who so may receive it, receive it, I advise,” said He. (8) One is what God orders and another is what he advises. (9) The one who wants to be saved must keep to the same things that God commands, and those are shared by all living people alike. (10) His counsels are about lofty matters and for his dearest friends (the few in this world) and are difficult to fulfill, though easy for whoever has the proper love for Him and true belief. (11) But whoever keeps to them earns an overflowing cup for himself, and an overrunning measure of heavenly reward. (12) Such is the counsel of maidenhood, which God does not order but advises for whoever wishes to be among the few of his dearest friends, and, as his dear darling, to follow his counsel and earn for himself a crown above crowns. (13) Also, Saint Paul gives advice to maidens that maidens should be as he was, and says that it is well for them who can keep themselves so; and he does not order it in any other way, for always the more dear a thing is, the harder it is to guard it, and if it were ordered and then not kept the breach would be a deadly sin. (14) Therefore, wedlock was made lawful in Holy Church as a bed for the sick, to catch the weak who can not stand on the high hill and so near Heaven as can the might of maidenhood. praise God and that he at least prepared for them, when they would have gone from the high place of maidenhood, such a place to descend to, so that, though they were brought low, they would not be hurt; and however they hurt themselves in there they healed with almsdeeds. (2) This, then, the wedded sing, that they, through God’s pity and the mercy of His grace, though they fell downward, in wedlock they stopped and in the bed of His law softly landed. (3) For whoever falls so from maidenhood’s strength that wedlock’s woven bed may not catch them, so terrifyingly they fall down to the earth that they are entirely dismembered, both joint and flesh. (4) These will never sing the song in Heaven but will sing songs of lamentation evermore in Hell, unless repentance raises them to life and heals them with true confession and with penance; for if they are thus quickened and made whole, they are in the widows’ circle and will sing in the widows’ circle before the wedded in Heaven. (5) That, then, is their song: to praise their Lord and thank him earnestly that His power holds them chaste in purity after they have tested the flesh’s filth and allowed them to atone for their sins in this world. shared with angels, the song over all the songs in Heaven. (2) In their circle, there God Himself and His dear mother — the dear Maiden, the heavenly queen — lead in that blessed company of shining maidens. (3) No one but they may dance or sing, for that is always their song, to thank and to praise God that He gave to them so much grace of Himself that they forsook for him every earthly man and kept themselves clean forever from fleshly filth in the body and in the heart, and in place of a man of earth they took the Lord of life, the King of high bliss, because he honors them so much above all the others as the bridegroom does his wedded spouse. Lord, and yet not entirely, for in the honor of maidenhood and in its power none may follow Him, nor that blessed Maiden, the angels’ lady and maidens’ glory, except for maidens alone. (3) And therefore their appearance is so bright and so shining above all others that they go next to God where ever he turns. (4) And all those who rejoice in Heaven are crowned with the champions’ crown, but the maidens, in addition to that which is shared by all equally, have a diadem shining brighter than the sun called, “aureola” in the language of Latin. (5) To tell of the nature of the flowers that are drawn on it, or the gems in it, there is no man’s speech. (6) Thus, many privileges show very clearly which ones there are the maidens and with many honors distinguish them from the others, world without end. third) you may, by the degrees of their bliss, know what and by how much the one surpasses the others. (2) For wedlock has a thirty-fold fruit in Heaven, widowhood sixty-fold. (3) Maidenhood, with a hundred-fold, surpasses both. (4) See then by this: whoever descends into wedlock from her maidenhood, by how many degrees she falls downwards; she is lifted toward Heaven one hundred degrees while she keeps her maidenhood, as the fruit proves, and she leaps into wedlock — that is, down lower to the thirtieth — over three twenties and yet more by ten. (5) Is this not, at one time, a great leap downward? (6) And yet, it is to be endured and God has decreed it (as I said before) since if anyone who leapt and did not stop there at least, there would be nothing nearby that would catch him, and he would fall downward headlong without protection deep into Hell. (7) Of these ones there is nothing to say for they are scraped out of the book of life in Heaven. suffer, from that you may know by that how joyfully you can live, maiden, in your maidenhood over what they live — in addition to the mirth and the glory of Heaven that no mouth can tell. (2) Now you are wedded, and descended from so high to so low: from the angels’ equal, from Jesus Christ’s lover, from a lady in Heaven, into flesh’s filth, into a beast’s life, into a man’s slavery, and into the world’s misery. (3) Say now — for what fruit, and mostly for what reason — is it completely for this reason, or partly, for this? (4) Reveal the truth now! (5) To cool your lust with the filth of your body? (6) By God, it is disgusting to think about that, and to speak about it yet more disgusting. (7) See then what that same thing is and what it is to do the deed. (8) All that foul delight is sated with filth as you turn your hand, but that loathsome sin lingers and lasts on, and the grief from it long afterward; and the unholy whores who unlawfully practice it have within an inward Hell: for that transitory lust endless pain unless they leave it and bitterly atone for it on earth in penance. (9) Scorn to do that, which seems evil to you and disgusting to hear about; for when it is such — and much more loathsome than any respectable mouth may speak of for shame — what makes it loved among beastly men except for their great viciousness? (10) That incites them, like beasts, to everything that they desire, as though they had no wit in them nor the ability — as a person has — to tell the difference between both good and evil, seemly and unseemly, no more than do the beasts, which have dumb snouts! without wit) at one time of the year. (2) Many a one keeps itself to one mate and will not, after its loss, ever take another. (3) And man, who should have wit and should do everything that he does after its wish, follows that filth every time and takes one after another, and many (which is worse) take many together. (4) See now how this vice does not only just compare you to witless beasts, dumb and hunch-backed, bowed towards the earth — you who are wrought in God’s likeness in the mind, and with an upright body and head uplifted towards Heaven, because you should hold your heart towards Heaven where your heritage is, and scorn the earth — take heed how this vice does not only make you equal and similar to them, but makes you much more horrible and more blameworthy, you who pervert yourself, willingly and readily into their kind. (5) Whoever then loses so lofty a thing — the might and the advantage of maidenhood’s honor — for so foul a filth as is shown above, whoever falls from an angel to become lower than a beast for such a bad bargain, look at how she prospers! is worth a great deal, and I need his help for sustenance and for food. (3) From the union of wife and husband the world’s happiness awakens, and a line of fair children who give much joy to the parents.” (4) Now you have said so and think that you have said the truth, but I will show that it is all glossed over with falsehood. (5) But first of all, whatever happiness or joy so comes from there, it is too dearly bought that you soil yourself for it and give your bare body to be ill- treated so terribly and be dealt with so shamefully, with such an irrecoverable loss as is the honor and the reward of maidenhood, for worldly profit. (6) Cursed be that bargain, to sell off maidenhood, the queen of Heaven, in exchange for any passing pleasure! (7) For just as there is no recovering from this loss, so every thing of worth is worthless in comparison. matched, and either is in all ways satisfied with the other. (2) Yes, but it is seldom seen on earth. (3) Though their comfort and their delight be like this now, what is in it mostly but the flesh’s filth or the world’s vanity, which all come to sorrow and to pain in the end? (4) And not only in the end but always, for many things will anger and annoy them and cause them to worry, and to grieve and to sigh for each other’s misfortunes. (5) Many things will separate them, and death’s blow, which is hateful to loving people, in the end will part one from the other, so that there is no way that comfort will not end in grief. (6) And always the more their joy was together, the more painful is the sorrow at their parting. (7) Woe to him, therefore, as Saint Augustine says, who is tied to any earthly thing with too much love, for always will sweetness be paid for with two parts of bitterness, and a false joy with many true sorrows. (8) But it is well for her who loves God, for she may not in any way (unless she lies to Him and leaves His love) ever lose Him, but will find Him ever sweeter and more savory from world into world, forever into eternity. here: A meek maiden as you are and the dear lover of Him who is Lord of all things, you need worry little about your own sustenance that he cannot easily, that he will not gladly, generously provide you all that you need. (3) And if you had want or suffered any hardship for His dear love, as the other does for a man’s, He allows it for your benefit to test whether you are true, and he prepares your reward manifold in Heaven. (4) Subject to a man’s help you will be sorely troubled for his and for the world’s love, which are both treacherous, and you will lie awake in many worries not only for yourself (as God’s spouse should) but for many others, as often for the loathsome as often for the beloved, and you will be more oppressed than any drudge in the house or any hired hand, and will get your own share with misery and will pay for it bitterly. (5) Little of this do the blessed spouses of God know who, in such pleasant ease without such trouble, in spiritual bliss and in peace of mind, love the true Love and lead their lives in His service alone. (6) It is well enough for them here but different elsewhere. (7) All the world’s joy is abundant enough for them. (8) They have all from there that they well wish for: God sees to everything that will ever benefit them. (9) Nor may any worldly misfortune deprive them of their joy for they are rich and well-off within the heart. (10) All the joy and comfort is there, whereas the others are impoverished and gnawed at by worry, however much they have, because they are always afraid to lose it, and still they itch for a great deal more. (11) With misery they obtain it; with fear they guard it; with sorrow they lose it. (12) They work to gain it; they gain it to lose it; they lose it to grieve for it. (13) Thus this world’s wheel whirls them about. (14) Thieves steal it from them; raiders rob it. (15) Their overlords punish them and make them angry. (16) The moth eats up the clothes and pestilence slays the livestock, and though none of these things may make wealth perish where there is much of it; always the more there is, the more there are who waste it. (17) And I never know why it is said that they have everything, who, will they or nill they, win it and guard it for so many others, not only for their friends but for their absolute enemies. (18) They can not have anything from that — though they had sworn to have it — except for their own portion. (19) This is now said because you said above that there would arise from the union of husband and wife riches and the world’s happiness, so that you may understand how little it helps them yet here in this world, apart from the fact that it robs from them the high kingdom of Heaven unless they are inwardly poor with holiness of heart. in world’s joy — shall certainly happen to you. (2) And what if they are missing for you, so that you have neither your desire with him nor wealth, and will grieve impoverished within empty walls, and to lack of bread breed your offspring, and besides this, will lie under the most loathsome man, who, though you had every kind of wealth, he turns it into suffering? (3) For suppose now that for you riches are plen- tiful, and your wide walls proud and prosperous, and you have many servants under you in hall, and yet your husband is angry with you, or becomes loathsome to you so that either of you both are angry with the other — what worldly wealth may be a joy to you? (4) When he is out you have terrible anxiety and dread about his return. (5) While he is at home all your wide walls seem to you too narrow. (6) His gazing on you frightens you. (7) His loathly noise and his wanton uproar make you frightened. (8) He chides you and nags you and shamefully disgraces you, ill- treats you insultingly as a lecher does his whore, beats you and buffers you as his purchased thrall and his born slave. (9) Your bones ache and your flesh smarts, your heart within you swells from bitter anger and on the outside your face burns with rage. (10) What will the joining between you in bed be like? (11) Even those who love each other best often quarrel in there, though they do not show it in the morning, and often, however well they love each other, they bitterly irritate each other over many nothings when they are by themselves. (12) She must endure his will greatly against her will — however much she loves him — often with great misery. (13) All his foulnesses and his indecent love play however filled with filth they may be (in bed, that is!), she must, will she nill she, endure them all. they are, for those who experience them the most find them the most hateful, and they call those blessed indeed who never know what they are, and hate those who practice it. (2) But whoever lies deeply sunk in the swamp will not rise out of it when he wants to, though it seems wretched. (3) Look, blessed woman: once the knot of wedlock is knotted, be he idiot or cripple, be he what so ever he may be, you must stay with him. (4) If you are fair and speak to everyone pleasantly with glad cheer, you will not be able to protect yourself in any way against slander or nasty gossip. (5) If you are base and bad-tempered you may — both to others and to your husband — become more worthless. (6) If you become worthless to him and he just as worthless to you, or if you love him very much and he thinks little of you, it grieves you so much that you will quickly enough (as many do) make poison for him and give misery in remedy’s place; or, she who does not want to do so will traffic with witches and forsake Christ and her Christianity and true belief in order to draw his love to her. (7) Now what bliss may she enjoy who loves her husband well and has his hatred or wins his love in such a way? who are joined in this way? (2) If she cannot conceive she is called barren. (3) Her lord her loves and respects her the less, and she, as she that has the worst thereof, bewails her fate and calls those women happy and joyful who bear their children. wishes for; and let us look at what happiness she gets from that: in the conceiving of that, her flesh is at once soiled with that filth (as it has been shown before); in the carrying of it, there is always heaviness and hard pain; in its birth the strongest of all stabbing pains and sometimes death; in its upbringing many a weary hour. (2) As soon as it comes into this life it brings with it more worry than joy, especially to the mother. (3) For if it is born deformed — as it often happens — and lacks any of its limbs or some other misfortune, it is sorrowful for her and shame to all its kin, scorn for evil mouths, a tale among all. (4) If it is well born and seems fully vigorous, fear of its loss is at the same time born with it; for she is never without worry lest it come to harm, until either of those two first loses the other. (5) And often it happens that that dearest and most bitterly paid for child upsets and grieves his parents the most in the end. (6) Now what joy does the mother have, who from that deformed child has both sorrow and shame, and fear for that healthy one until she loses it? for fear of Hell, you ought, woman, for your flesh’s wholeness, for your body’s love, and your body’s health, shun that deed over everything. (2) For as Saint Paul says, each sin that one does is outside the body except for this alone. (3) All the other sins are nothing but sins, but this is sin, and also mars you and degrades your body, soils your soul and makes you guilty before God and also fouls your flesh. (4) You are guilty on two sides. (5) You anger the All-Ruler with that filthy sin and you do harm to yourself, in that you entirely willingly mistreated yourself so shamefully. (6) Let us now go further and look at what joy arises thereafter in the carrying of the child, when that offspring in you awakens and grows, and how many miseries awaken at once with that, which work woe enough for you, fight against your own flesh and make war upon your own nature with many miseries. (7) Your rosy face will grow lean and become green as grass. (8) Your eyes will grow dim and will darken underneath, and from your brain’s turning your head aches sorely. (9) Inside, in your womb, a swelling in your belly that puffs you up like a water-skin, your bowels’ pain and stitches in your side, and pain in your aching loins, heaviness in every limb, your breast’s burden of your two paps, and the streams of milk that flow from them. (10) Your beauty is completely ruined with wilting, your mouth is bitter, and all that you chew nauseating. (11) And what food your stomach scornfully accepts (that is, with distaste) it casts out again. (12) In the middle of all your happiness and your husband’s joy you degenerate into a wretch. (13) The worries about your labor pains deprive you of sleep at night. (14) Then when it comes to it, that sore sorrowful anguish, that strong and stabbing stitch, that nonstop suffering, that pain above pain, that restless wailing, while you labor with it and with fear of your death, shame along with the pain, with the shameful craft of the old women who know about that painful experience, and whose help you need, however indecent it may be; and you must suffer it all, whatever happens to you then. eries, which all our mothers suffered for ourselves, but we put them forward to warn maidens so that they seek such a thing less eagerly and may know better, through this, what they should do. weeping which will wake you up around midnight, or the one who takes your place (for whom you have to care). (2) And, look! — the filth in the cradle and sometimes in your lap, to swaddle it and feed it for so many weary hours, and its growth so sluggish, and so slow its thriving! (3) And ever to have intense worry and to anticipate when, after all this, it could die, and bring upon its mother sorrow upon sorrow. (4) Though you may be rich and have a nurse you must, as a mother, worry about everything that falls to her to do. in few words: The tribulations of the flesh, et cetera. (2) That is in English: “those that are like this will endure hardship.” (3) Whoever thinks on all this, and on more that there is, and will not avoid that deed from which it all arises, she is more hardhearted than a stone of adamant and madder (if she may be) than madness itself. (4) Her own foe and her fiend, she hates herself. with her husband, nor of their deed — so disgusting! — that they do together, nor of that pain nor of that grief in the carrying of a child and birth, of the nurse’s vigils, nor of her woeful times in the raising of that child, how much food she should stuff into his mouth at one time, neither to bespatter it nor its baby clothes. (2) Although these are unworthy things to speak of, they show all the more what slavery wives are in, who must endure them, and in what freedom maidens are in, who are free from them all. (3) And what if I ask yet — although it may seem silly — how it goes for that wife who, when she comes in, hears her child scream, sees the cat at the flitch and the hound at the hide, her cake burning on the stone and her calf sucking, the crock running into the fire, and the churl chides her? (4) Though it may be silly to say, it ought, maiden, to urge you more strongly away from it, for it does not seem silly at all to her who experiences it! (5) Nor does that blessed maiden, who has entirely escaped such slavery as God’s free daughter and his Son’s spouse, need to endure anything of such things. which you ought to do without any compensation, for now I have kept my promise above: that I would show that what many a one says to you (and it seems that it is true) about the happiness and the success which the wedded have, is glossed over with falsehood, and that it does not at all fare so as she who sees from outside thinks, but it fares entirely otherwise, both for the poor and the rich, for both those who hate and those who love, so that everywhere the woe surpasses the joy, and the loss entirely surpasses all the gain. and listen to his counsel, which he advised you in the beginning of this treatise. (2) “Forget your folk,” who lie to you about the joy of husbands and the world, which are your thoughts which deceitfully incite you towards every woe. (3) And “forsake your father’s house,” as it is explained above, and commit yourself to Him truly. (4) With Him you shall possess — as with your wedded husband — the world without end, heavenly joy. (5) Blessed is his spouse, whose maidenhood is unmarred when He procreates with her; and when she gives birth by Him she neither toils nor suffers. (6) Blessed is the Husband when no one may be a maiden unless she loves Him, or free unless she serves Him, whose offspring is immortal and whose morning-gift is the kingdom of Heaven. (7) Now then, blessed maiden, if wealth is dear to you, take to yourself Him as Lord who possesses all that is and was and ever will be. (8) For though He may be richest of all by Himself over all, the poorest of all who chooses Him as a husband is well pleasing to Him. (9) If what you desire is a husband who has great beauty, take Him at whose beauty both the sun and the moon marvel, upon whose face the angels are never weary of looking. (10) For when he gives fairness to all that is fair in Heaven and in earth, He has kept back, beyond calculation, much more for Himself. (11) And even though He is the fairest of all things, he happily receives and sweetly embraces the loathsomest of all and makes them seven times brighter than the sun. in your maidenhood, bear daughters and sons of a spiritual progeny, who never die, and never can, but will always play before you in Heaven, which are the virtues that He begets upon you through His sweet grace, such as righteousness and vigilance against vices, measure and moderation and spiritual strength to withstand the fiend and against sin, modesty of manner, obedience and silence, patience and pity for every person’s sorrow, gladness in the Holy Ghost and peace in your heart from envy and from wrath, from covetousness and from the attack of every vice, meekness and mildness and sweetness of heart, which belongs — best of all things — to maidenhood’s might. (2) This is the maiden’s family, God’s Son’s spouse, which will live forever and play without end before her in Heaven. pride, envy, or wrath, avarice, or weak will inside in your heart, — you whore yourself with the fiend of Hell, and he begets on you the offspring which you bear. (2) When your all powerful Husband, to whom you wed yourself, sees and understands this, that his foe lies with you, and that by him you are breeding what is to Him the most loathsome of broods, He shuts you out at once (as it is no wonder!) and declares you completely free to go to him with whom you are breeding. (3) He does not go halves with anyone, and least of all with his foe. (4) Whoever loves aught but Him — and whatever they love instead of Him — enrages him greatly. this devil, for she of all vices is his eldest daughter. (2) She first sprang from him while he was still in Heaven, almost the same age as him, and, as soon as she was born, she cast her father, irrecoverably, from the highest Heaven into the deep of Hell, and made from the high angel the most hateful devil. (3) If she cast down her heavenly father like this, what will she do to her earthly mothers who breed her in whoredom with that loathly Fiend, the hellish devil? (4) When God so vengefully con- demned His archangel who spawned her in Heaven, what will He do to that earth and worms’ food that breeds her in adultery by the Devil on earth? (5) If you have, along with maidenhood, meekness and mildness, God is in your heart, but if there is arrogance or any pride inside, He is an outlaw from there, for in no way can they live together in a single heart, when they could not dwell together at all in Heaven. (6) God cast her out of there as soon as she was born, and as though she did not know which way she came from there, she could never afterwards find a way back, but living here on earth she promises an eternal dwelling place for all her mothers, although they are maidens, with her accursed father in innermost Hell. nature, as it is in the nature of an angel, and the cleanest hearts breed her still. (3) She assails the best, and she, who overcame an angel, may dare well hope to be a champion over a person. (4) She is not found in clothes or adornment on the outside (though it may be the mark of her and sometimes the marking), but under white or black, and as much under gray as under green cloth, and she always lies hidden in the heart. (5) As soon as you consider yourself better than another, for whatever reason it may be, and have disdain for anyone, and consider unreasonable and contemptible anything that someone says or does to you, you mar your maidenhood and break your marriage to God and give birth by his enemy. worthless. (2) For just as a carbuncle is better than a jacinth in the quality of their nature, and though a bright jacinth is better than a dull carbuncle, so the maiden, with respect to the might of maidenhood, surpasses widows and the wedded, and nevertheless a mild wife or a meek widow is better than a proud maiden. (3) For these, because of their sins which they follow or practice in filth of the flesh, consider themselves lowly and worthless, and are sorely afraid of God’s terrible wrath; and, like the blessed sinner Mary Magdalene, they repent their sins with bitter weeping and more ardently love God, just as she did, because of their forgiveness. (4) And the others, who consider themselves free from guilt and pure, are certainly lazy and lukewarm. (5) Scarcely do they live in God’s love, without any heat of the Holy Ghost which burns so bright without consuming, a fire in all His chosen. (6) And the others, in the heat of one moment, are melted and refined more in God than the others in a state of indifference all their lifetimes. in your maidenhood alone without other good and virtuous strengths and above all, mildness and meekness of heart, after the example of that blessed maiden above all others, Mary, mother of God. (2) For when the archangel Gabriel greeted her and brought to her tidings of God’s incarnation, look how lowly she considered herself, when she answered thus of herself. (3) “According to your word,” said she, “may it happen to me. (4) Lo, here is my Lord’s servant.” (5) And though she was full of all good virtues she spoke only of her meekness and sang to Elizabeth. (6) “Because my Lord saw the meekness of His handmaid, all peoples,” said she “will call me blessed.” (7) Take heed, maiden, and understand by this that she thought that she obtained such grace from our Lord more for her meekness than for her maidenhood. (8) For all maidenhood, meekness is worth much, and maidenhood without it is cheap and worthless; for a maiden in maidenhood without meekness is like oil in an unlit lamp. but shine like the sun in the sight of your Husband. (2) Adorn your maidenhood with all good virtues that seem lovely to Him. (3) Hold ever in your heart the most blessed of maidens and maidenhood’s mother, and beseech her always to enlighten you and to give you love and strength to follow her virtues in maidenhood. (4) Think of Saint Katherine, of Saint Margaret, Saint Agnes, Saint Juliana, and Saint Cecilia, and of the other holy maidens in Heaven: how they not only forsook the sons of kings and earls, with all worldly wealth and earthly pleasures, but suffered strong torments and a cruel death in the end before they would accept them. (5) Think how well it is now for them and how they rejoice for that in between God’s arms, queens of Heaven. (6) And if it ever happens that your body’s lust — through the false fiend — should incite you towards fleshly filth, answer in your thought thus: “It helps you not at all, traitor! (7) I will be, in a maiden’s life, just like an angel in Heaven. (8) I will keep myself whole through the grace of God, as nature made me, so that the bliss of Paradise may receive me fully, just like its first shepherds were before they sinned. (9) I will be completely like my dear Lover is, my precious Lord, and like that blessed maiden whom He chose as His mother. (10) Justly so I will keep myself truly unblemished, as I am wedded to Him, and I will not, for the lust of a little while (though it may seem a delight) cast away that thing whose loss I will bewail as irrecoverable and pay for with eternal fire in Hell. (11) You crafty foul creature! (12) All for nothing you prick me to commit sin and to forgo the bliss upon bliss, the crown upon crown of a maiden’s reward, and willingly and voluntarily cast myself as a wretch into your punishment in hell for fornication, and instead of that song of the angels about maidenhood’s honor, to cry out and groan with you and yours forever in the eternal terror of Hell.” flee from you with shame. (2) And if after all this he perhaps resists and continues to afflict your flesh and prick your heart, then your Lord God allows him to do so, to increase your reward. (3) For as Saint Paul says: “no one is crowned except for whoever truly fights in such a fight and with a great struggle overcomes herself.” (4) For then the Devil is shamefully overthrown with his own trick when, as the Apostle says, you will not be crowned unless you are assailed. (5) If God desires to crown you, He will allow the Fiend to assail you thoroughly so that, through that, you may earn the champion’s crown. (6) Therefore, it is the best for you when he grieves you the most and more madly makes war against you with temptation if you take cover well under God’s wings. (7) For through his attack he prepares you (damn his teeth!) for the bliss and the crown of Christ’s chosen ones. those who leave the love of an earthly man to be His lover, and grant to them that their hearts keep to Him so that neither the urging of their flesh, nor the fiend’s temptation, nor any of his earthly followers neither trouble their mind nor wrench them out of the path they have walked on, and so help them to ascend toward Heaven in Him, until they have arisen to where their marriage will be, in all that ever is good, to sit forever with that blessed Bridegroom from whom everything good is derived. (2) AMEN. |