fol. 145r 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 fol. 145v 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 fol. 146r 111 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 fol. 146v 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 fol. 147r 225 230 235 240 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 fol. 147v 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 fol. 148r 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 fol. 148v 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 fol. 149r 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 fol. 149v 505 510 515 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 fol. 150r 555 560 565 570 575 580 585 590 595 600 605 fol. 150v    610 615

Margaret Old and yong that here be Lystyns a whyle unto me, What I schall you sey: How it befell upon a dey Of a virgyn feyre and suete Whos name was Margarete. Hyr fader was a nobull clerke And a man that couth mych werke, Also a prince of hy degré; There myght nowher a better be. In Antych he had a wyffe; Both were heythen of ther lyffe. He was a man of grete power, Of all the cuntré governer. False he was of hys ley, Both be nyght and be dey. Theodosyas was hys name, A nobull man of grete fame. He had understondyng long beforn He schuld have a doughture born, As the scryptour hym told, And when sche wex olde That sche schuld Crystyne be And beleve of the Trinyté, Allmyghty God that us dere bought And all this werld made of nought. Hyr fader comandyd long beforn That anon as sche was born To the deth sche schuld be brought In what wyse he ne rought. Bot hyr modour that hyr bore Made for hyr full grete care And bethought hyr beforn, That anon as sche was born Into Azy sche hyr sente. The messanger forth wente To a norys that wonyd ther For to putte hyre to lere. He toke with hym grete spendyng For to kepe that meyden yenge, And sche hyr kepte ther in dede, And norysschyd her in that nede. Sche was feyre and comly of chere, And of hyr bewty feyre and clere. All hyr lovyd in that cuntré, Olde and yong that hyr myght se. When sche wax more in age And had understondyng and knawelege, Sche toke hyr to Crystys lore And belevyd in hym ever more. The norys that kepte hyr fro dispare Had seven chylder that were fare, And well sche kepte this chylder seven — The eighth was Crystys meyden of hevyn. Both of heven and of helle Full gode tayles sche cuthe telle, And what thei schuld have to mede As thei deservyd in dede, And how thei sofferd merterdom evyn, Both Seynt Laurance and Seynt Stevyn; Of many other seyntys mo How thei sufferd peyn and wo, And how thei merterdom gan take All for Jhesu Crystys sake. Of many seyntys sche told the lyffe Both to man and to wyffe. And when sche was fiftene yerys old Sche was feyre woman and bold. Hyr norys sette hyr to kepe In the feld to fede hyr schepe. Hyr felowys gan hyr behold When sche hyr prayers make wold. Than was in that cuntré a kynge, A nobull man of grete cunnynge. He was a kyng of grete myght; Olybrius for soth he hyght. All Azy, as I you telle, Was hys awne to gyff or selle. Also he servyd dey and nyght Hys fals godys, I you behyght. He servyd ever the devyll of helle, And Crystine pepull he dyd quelle Fro Antyoch to Azye Be myles mo than fyfté. Ever to strew the Crysten men He dyde hys power ever then. What with werre and with stryffe He left bote few pepull of lyve. Tyll it befell on a dey As he rode by the wey, He saw that lovely meyden Kepyng schepe upon the gren. Anon he commandyd a knyght To bryng hyr to hym anon ryght. The knyght wente anon hyr to And seyd that sche must with hym go. The meyden was so myld of chere Ansuerd hym as ye schall here, And seyd sche hade nothing to do Oute of that ground with hym to go. Sche prayd hym of hys curtassye To pase hys wey and late hyr be. And schortly this tale to telle, He went awey fro that damselle And com to Olybryus the kyng And told hym all that tyding, That sche wold for nothing Cum to hym; sche ne wold Bot thei with hyr stryve schuld. To Jhesu Cryst gan sche calle, That sofyrd deth for us alle, That he wold hyr defend That no Saryzen schuld hyr schend, And besought hym of hys grace Hyr to socour in every place, And seyd, “For thi luffe, Lord, wyll I dyghe, And forsoke all werdly compenye.” Than spake Olibryus, To hys men he seyd thus: “Of all the men that I have here, Can non of hem bryng hyr nere? And I had hyr to me brought, Full sone I schuld change hyr thought. Sche schall upon my godys beleve Or els sore I schall hyr greve.” They went agen unto that meyd And onto hyr thus thei seyd: “Thou must cum on with us To oure kyng, Sir Olibryus. Bot if thou com withoutyn stryffe, We schall reffe thee thy lyffe.” With them sche went meke and styll Unto the kyng agen hyr wyll, And full feyr sche hym grete. He askyd hyr name; sche seyd, “Margrete.” He seyd, “If thou be born fre, For soth my leman schall thou be. I wyll have thee to my wyfe, To lyve in joy all thi lyve. Gold and ryches I wylle thee gyffe All the whyll that thou dost lyve.” Sche seyd to hym anon than, “I wyll have non erthly man, Bot for the love of Cryst alon I wyll be baptyst at the fonte ston. For soth, I wyll hym never forsake For non erthly man to take.” Than anon to hyr he seyd, “We dyd Jhesu Cryst to dede And dyd hym streyn upon the rode Tyll he suet water and blode, And crownyd with a croune of thorn: And thou leve on hym, thou arte lorn.” To hym sche seyd anon ryght, “He is a lord of mykyll myght And dyghed on the crose for all mankynd; For that we schuld have hym in mynd. He ros fro deth and to helle went The fendys power for to schent. And many saulys he fette out ther That in grete peyn were.” To stryve with hyr he fond no bote, Bot dyd hyr bynd hand and fote, And cast hyr into prison strong For to overcom hyr with wrong. Meyd Margarete all that nyght In prison ley with grete unryght. And on the morow wen it was dey He sent for hyr, the soth to sey. They brought hyr to Syr Olybryus. Sone to hyr he seyd thus: “Margaret, beleve upon my lore, Or I schall greve thee full sore. Thy god that thou doyst on beleve Schall not save thee fro my greve. Trow on me and be my wyve, And lyve in joy all thi lyve. Antyoche and all Azye After my deth I gyve to thee. Sylke and gold and purpull paule, And I wyll thee wed, were thou schalle, Welle furryd with ryche ermyn — In all this werld is non so fyne. And with the beste metys that is in lond I schall thee fede, I understond, And Jhesu Criste pute oute of thi thought.” “Nay,” sche seyd, “that wyll I nought. Jhesu wyll I never forsake For all that is on erth to take.” He seyd, “It schall be sene full sone What thi God wyll for thee done.” He bade hys sergeantys everychon Bynd hyr fote and hond anone. The sergeantys dyd as he hem bade: They turment hyr as thei were made. They bete hyr with scowrgys strong, And turment hyr with grete wrong. They bete hyr, both man and wyffe, And fast with hyr thei gan stryffe, Tyll the rede blod felle a doune To hyre fete fro hyr croune, Tyll thei wend sche hade be dede; So fast on hyr thei hade leyde. Than seyd Olybryus ther he stode, “Margaret, thinkys thou this werk ys gode? Beleve onne my lord and be my wyve And I wylle no more with thee stryve. Have mersy on thi feyre fleche And onne thi skyne that is so nessche.” To Jhesu Cryst sche cryed than, That dyghed for the love of man And of a virgyn was born For mankynd schuld not be lorn. “Thys peynes that I soffer and swynke, They be full suete, as me thinke. All the peynes that I here dryve Be sueter to me than thyng of lyve.” Olybrius seyd to hys sergeantys tho, “Sche felys nothyng of all this wo! For all the peynes we to hyr gyve Sche wyll not on oure godys beleve.” He bad hys sergeantys everychon They schuld turment hyre anon. The sergeantys dyd as he hem bade; Lytell mersy on hyr thei hade. With there nayles thei dude hyr flessch drawe Lyke as hundys had hyr gnawe. And hyr eyghen that were so bryght, They pute hem oute and mered hyr syght. They dud hyr both peyn and wo, And rent hyr lyer fro the flessch tho. Mych of the pepull that were ther In ther hertys were full sore, And sey to hyr stondyng ther, When thei se hyr thus ytore, And seyd, “Feyr meyden Margarete, Thou that arte so feyre and suete, Turne to hym and be hys wyve And no more with hym stryve. For thee, Margaret, we have care And wold that thou savyd were.” “After you,” sche seyd, “I wyll not do. Bot go your wey,” sche seyd, “me fro. All that for me repent And se me have this turment, As thei thinke both gode and evylle, They schall be quyte after ther wylle. The angell of Cryst com me to Als fast as he may com and go.” Than beseyd Olybryus With wyked wordys seyng thus: “Margaret, I have sych posté That blynd I have made thee. For before thou had thi syght; Now hast thou non thorow my myght. Beleve on my god, thou mayd.” “Nay, for soth, syr,” sche seyd. “For thi godys that thou belevys onne, Thei are dom as any ston. My lord to me he is full kynd; He schall never go out of my mynd. If thi hope were of my flessche To do thi wyll both herd and nessche, To rente the flessch fro the bone, Power of my saule getys thou non.” To hyr anon than he seyd, “In depe prison thou schall be leyd. In prison schall thi body lye, Thy feyr flessch for to dystreye. Thou schall be bounde fote and hond With bondys of iren gret and strong.” “Jhesu Crist,” sche seyd untylle, “May delyver me when he wylle.” In prison fast thei gan hyr don. The angell com to hyr full sone With the grace of God allmyght As the sone schynes bryght. With parte of the crose God was on don To the virgyn he com full sone And seyd to hyr with myld stevyn, “Blyssed thou arte with all in hevyn! Fader and Son and Holy Goste, Lord and kyng of myghtys moste, Thys crosse to thee hath send Thy enmys therwith to defend.” Sche seyd, “Lord, blyssed thou be, That this gyffte hath send me. Allmyghty God, I thee praye A bon grante me todeye: That I may with syght them se What thei be that thus hath turment me.” The angell bade hyr doute nought, For to hevyn sche schuld be brought. “Ther is no tong that telle myght The joy was made of thee this nyght With all the melody that is in hevyn, Meyd Margaret, thee for to nevyn.” And be the grace of God allmyght Ther anon sche had hyr syght. Then the holy angell went hyr fro; Of hym sche saw no more tho. Sche lokyd a lytell be hyr syde And saw a dragon be hyr glyde That was of colour as grasse gren, Margaret hyr for to nem, With fyre flawmyng, foule to seme, Out of hys mouth fyre bryning bryght. Sche was agryfed of that syght. Sche fell doun unto the grounde; For fere sche tremblyd in that stond. He toke hyr in hys mowth anon, He sualowyd up hyr body and bone. And when he had so ydon, Than he myght no ferther gon, Bot he byrst upon the ground; The mayden com forth save and sound. And it was Cristys wylle Within hym sche had non ylle. Bot upon the dragon sche stode With glad herte and mylde mode, And thankyd Jhesu of hys myght That sche hade overcom that foule wyght, And understode welle that it was Thorow the vertu of the croysse. That foule dragon was sleyn ther Thorow Godys myght and hyr prayer. Anon sche wene the dragon fro And sey a fowler come hyr to. A grysly syght, for sothe, was he, A fouler best never man se. To hym sche went, I understond, With the holy crosse in hyr hond, And smote hym so upon the fynnes That he myght not abyde hyr dynnes. That staff that was so long, That thorow Criste myght so strong Downe to the grond sche hym caste, And with hyr wymple bond hym faste. In hys neke sche sette hyr fote — To stryve with hyr it was no bote. To hym sche seyd, “I conjure thee, What thou arte thou telle me. For thou arte so lothly a thyng, What thou arte I wyll have knowyng. For best saw I never none So lothly for to loke upon.” He seyd, “For my lordys sake, Fro my neke thi fote thou take. I have gon wyde be water and londe, Yit was I never so sore ybonde. My ryght name hyght Belgys To lyghe to thee non aveyll ys. Geffron is my brother that thou slewe; In the werld we dyd sorow inowe. Dede and borston is my brother, And thou hast overcom me, I se non other. When we were bothe togeder We made the son to sle the fader. We stroyd pepull dey and nyht; We dyd all the sorow that we myght. In dragons wyse we com to thee To spyll thi wytte and make thee wode to be. The kyng, Syr Olybryus, In this lyknes sent us thus For to strey thi fare body With hys craft and nygramansy. The hede peyn that is so strong, I may not suffyr this full long. My wey is not in erth; by the wynd I fle. All that I se I wyll dystroye. Wher I wyst a woman with chyld, Thether I went wode and wyld. And yf the chyld uncrystynd were, Lege and arme I made crokyd ther. I wrought mykyll sorow and wo: I made the one neybour the other slo; I went to the feld, unto the ploughe, And the bestys all to-drewghe. Wherever I went I dyde grete care; Ther was my joy aboute to fare. When that Salomon the wyse was alyve, Into a tunne of bras he dyd us dryve. He dyde us bery in an hylle, Sone anon, agenst our wylle. Men of Babylon com us to; They dyged us out and lete us go. When thei myned in the grond They wenyd gold and sylver to hafe fond. Ther be in the erth of us fleyng Mo than fiftene thousend in the wynd beyng. Som are swyfter than a do, And som are suyfter than a ro. Som are suyfter than a sualow And som are suyfter than an arow. And all that on Cryst beleve We dyde them vex and sore greve, Both in towne and in feld. We streyd many wyff and chyld, We streyd fruyt on the erth growyng, And drovyd schypes in the se seyling. Thys was our labour and delyte: To do Crysten pepull dyspyte. Now I pray you late me go; I have told you every dele al so.” Margaret seyd to that foule wyght, “I conjure thee, by Cristys myght And in Godys holy name, That thou do never more schame, Bot synke doune into helle, Forever more ther to duelle. Synke doune, thou foulle fend, Therin to be withoutyn ende.” He sanke adoune by Godys myght, Thorow the prayer of that virgyn bryght. All this trobull had this holy meyd In the strong castell where sche was leyd. In a dey and in a nyght All this hade that meyden bryght, And thankyd God of hys grace That sche overcom them in that place. The secund dey at the afternon Olybryus sent for hyr full sone. The sergeantys were redy to go And oute of prison fette hyr tho. With the holy crosse in hyr hond Wherwith sche dyde the fendys schond, He saw hyr com in als feyr case Of flesch and blode as ever sche was. Than bespake Syr Olybryus, And to that meyd he seyd thus: “Meyd Margaret, I pray thee That thou wyll turne unto me.” Sche seyd, “Cursyd mote thi godys be To beleve on thou woldys have me. For thi godys that thou belevyst in, Thei be cursyd and full of syn, For thei ben of Sathanas kynd. I wyll never have them in mynde! When thou thinkys best to thy lykyng, Onto myscheff thei wyll thee bryng. Therfor, I rede and counsyll thee, Beleve on my Lord that is so fre, That made thee and me and every man, That most of wytte and vertu can. Therfor, beleve hym upon And be baptyst at the font ston.” He seyd to hyr in that stound, “A croune of gold I wyll found My godys are trew and thyn are lesse Therfor, I byde thee hold thi pes.” He seyd to hys servantys than, “I charge you, every man, That ye poure upon hyr hede Sething oyle and boyling lede. Schald hyr fro the hede unto the fote To sche turne and ax bote.” Thei turmentyd hyr than full sore With oyle and hote lede over more, Tyll sche suete flessch and fell As it were water out of a well. Than seyd thei to that holy meyd, “Beleve uppon our godys,” thei seyd. Sche seyd, “Fro them I me defend, And beleve on Cryst withouten end. Cursyd be thei that on thi godys thinke Or on hem wryte with pauper and ynke.” They had no power hyr to quelle; The holy crosse kepte hyr welle. He comandyd hyr anon tho In a fate of water to be do, Ther anon to be sente All hyr hete to be queynte. Anon as sche the water gan se Sche thought therein crystynd to be, And seyd, “In Crystys holy name, Here I take baptysm and defy ther blame!” Anone the thonder began to berst; The pepull fled awey full fast. The angell toke hyr out of the water than; They myght it se, every man, And turnyd anon to hyr beleve Many a thousend or it were eve. Both old pepull and yong Turnyd to hyr and of hyr song: On Jhesu Cryst thei dyd beleve, Both meyd, chyld, and wyve. The kyng saw anon ryght That herme to hyr do non he myght. He callyd to Malcus, that was Hys man-queller in every place, And bad hym that he schold Take hyr fast into hys hold And lede hyr withoute the towne than. And in a fyer he schuld hyre bryn And bryng hyr oute of hyr lyve, That sche no more with hym stryve. And when sche com unto that sted Ther sche schuld be pute to dede. Mych pepull folowyd hyr tho Al so fast as thei myght go. Anon the sone wexyd blake And the thunder gan to crake. The folke were ferd in that stound That for fere thei fell to grond. They were so afreyd tho That thei knew nother wele ne wo. Anon oure Lord an angell sente Into the place sche schuld be brent, And seyd to hyr with myld steven, “Blyssed thou arte todey in heven! Thys dey in hevyn thou schall crouned be Befor Crystys majesté.” Malcus herd the wordys that sche speke And thought he wold not do hyr wreke. He knelyd doune upon the grounde And axyd mersy in that stonde. And than he saw in that place Multytud of angellus ther sche was. He leyd doun hys suerd hym by And seyd, “Maden, I ax mersy.” Than bespake the vergyn bryght, And seyd to hym anon ryght, “Broder, if thi wyll it be, A lytell whyle abyde thou me, And late me make my prayer To Jhesu Cryst that bought me dere. And anon in this tyde Awey thou schall me ryde. The Fader and Son and the Holy Goste, Lord and kyng of myghtys moste That all the werld made of nought And mankynd hast dere bought, Of a floure thou were forth brought For we schuld not be lorn. Jhesu Cryst, I beseche thee, Thys dey a boune thou grante me. Thys pepull here beforn, All that in the wyrschype of thee And in mynd do honour me, Thou late hem never in peynes be bound, Ne in dedly synne be fond. All that my tourment here or rede, Or in my name do almus dede, Jhesu Cryst, gyff them to mede The blyss of hevyn for ther god dede. If any woman be with chyld, I praye to Our Lady meke and myld, Of hyr peynes that sche be unbond And be lyverd save and sond. Jhesu Cryst, I besech thee, That when sche callys upon thee That thou wold be ther socure That the crosse doth honour. And all that worschyp my dey, Or honour me as thei may, Or here my memory dey or nyght With gode hert or candell lyght, I beseke thee, for thi glory, Late them never in syne dyghe. Whersomever that body be, On that saule have mersye, And that the fend do them no skathe Nether late nether rathe, That beryth on them my lyffe, Nother man, chyld, ne wyffe.” Oure Lord herd hyr prayer son And grantyd hyr all hyr bone. Anon sche seyd thus, And spake onto Malcus. Sche bad hym that he schuld fullfylle And do all hys lordys wyll. “That wyll I not,” he seyd, “for all the erth to wyn, For I have se the lord that thou belevys in.” Sche seyd, “Sir, do as I thee byde: Take and smyte of myn hede. For God hath forgyff thee That I byde thee do to me, For it is agenst thi wylle That commandment to fullfylle. Into paradyse thou schall wend Therin to be withouten ende.” Malcus herd hyr sey this sawe, And hys suerd he gan draw, And hyr hede he smate offe As the law therto hym droffe. Michaell, Gabryell, and Raphaell in fere Saw this don all in sych maner. With joy and blysse and melody Thei bare hyr saule to hevyn on hye. Before our Lord thei gan hyr bere; To hym sche was leffe and dere. Thyopy, the grete clerke, Remembyrd all hyr lyff and werke And made hyr lyve in memory (And he hyr norysschyd in Azy). In Antyoche thei hyr brought, And in god intent ther then wrought A chapell in hyr name. And all that were seke and lame Thether fast gan thei gon; Hole and sound hom thei com, Thorow grace of God allmyght And be prayer of that meyden bryght. Jhesu, gyfe us grace we may lyfe so Unto thi blyss we myght com to. The lyve of this virgyn I have rede; On a Tewysdey sche was quyke and dede. Jhesu Cryst Hevyn Kyng Grant them all hys blyssing That this story wyll have in mynd With clene thought and hert kynd, Thorow prayer of Seynte Margarete, That in heven we may mete. By the prayer of that meyden hend To thi joy that we may wynd, Ther to duell and sey thi face. Lord God, therto gyffe us grace. Pray we all yt may so be; Amen, Amen, for charyté. AMEN QUOD RATE

(see note) (t-note) learned man; (see note) possessed great skill (knew magic arts) (see note) Antioch; (see note) heathens faith i.e., knew ahead of time writing (prophecy or oracle); (see note) (t-note) (t-note) did not care planned ahead [So] that as soon; (t-note) Asia; (see note) nurse; dwelled educate her money (t-note) raised her (educated her) as needed [i.e., Margaret]; (see note) followed Christ’s teaching (see note) she could tell worthy tales as a reward suffered martyrdom steadfastly (see note) she recounted the legend remain (t-note) was named; (see note) Asia i.e., in his control I tell you kill For more than fifty miles around slaughter (harass) alive (see note) (t-note) [that] was Saracen; harm (dishonor) To aid her die forsake; (t-note) If I had (t-note) unto Unless take your life from you; (t-note) against (see note) sweetheart (see note) put to death stretch If you believe; lost (t-note) destroy brought out of no avail had her bound when afflict (t-note) anger Trust in; (t-note) rich purple cloth If; wear; (t-note) finest foods each one commanded them mad scourges (whips); (t-note) head believed laid [strokes] on her tender endure; (t-note) endure anything alive then hounds marred caused tore her skin (muscles) Many of torn i.e., I will not follow your wishes rewarded according to their will spoke power (t-note) (t-note) dumb; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) hard and soft (i.e., in every way) destroy unto [him] placed on; (see note) voice ward off gift boon (request) not to doubt (t-note) name; (see note) (t-note) (see note) seize blazing fire that seemed hideous aggrieved in that place (time) done hideous creature fouler (i.e., even more hideous) (see note) (see note) endure her blows i.e., the cross through Christ’s might wimple (head scarf); (t-note) On his neck of no avail command beast traveled widely sorely bound is called; (see note) lie enough (plenty) burst I see no other [way] slaughtered (afflicted) dragon’s shape deprive; insane (see note) destroy necromancy (sorcery) i.e., the pain in my head; (t-note) command; (see note) slay tore apart caused great distress (see note); (t-note) brass barrel thought to have found flying doe roe deer swallow (t-note) afflicted stirred up ships injury (humiliation) every part [of my story] (t-note) fiend brought her then disgrace as good condition (t-note) i.e., That you would have me believe in (t-note) i.e., When you think all goes as you wish Unto possesses the highest intelligence (t-note) I will try (wager); (see note) false (lies) Seething; lead Scald Until she converts and asks for mercy (t-note) skin write about them kill placed in a vat quenched christened (t-note) before it was evening Attended (see note) executioner his power outside the town [So] that place; (t-note) (t-note) afraid; moment (place) (t-note) voice violence wait for me free me (t-note) (see note) So that; lost boon (request) hear or read alms give them as reward unbound delivered safe and sound die in [a state of] sin Wherever harm Neither late nor early (i.e., at any time) carries my life with them soon (immediately) (t-note) unto (t-note) go speech drove (commanded) together; (see note) (t-note) beloved and dear (see note) (see note) they went home (t-note)    Tuesday; alive and dead (i.e., died); (see note) noble (kind) (t-note) see; (t-note) (see note)