Ludus Coventriæ

by Unknown

XI. THE SALUTATION AND CONCEPTION.

Contemplacio. ffowre thowsand sex undryd foure ȝere I telle,

Man ffor his offens and ffowle foly,

Hath loyn ȝeres in the peynes of helle,

And were wurthy to ly therin endlesly.

But thanne xulde perysche ȝour grete mercy,

Good Lord, have on man pyté,

Have mende of the prayour seyd by Ysaie,

Lete mercy meke thin hyest magesté.

Wolde God thou woldyst breke thin hefne myghtye,

And com down here into erthe;

And levyn ȝeres thre and threttye,

Thyn famyt ffolke with thi ffode to fede.

To staunche thi thryste lete thi syde blede,

ffor erst wole not be mad redempcion.

Cum vysite us in this tyme of nede,

Of thi careful creatures, Lord, have compassyon!

A! woo to us wrecchis that wrecchis be,

ffor God hath addyd ssorowe to sorwe;

I prey the, Lorde, thi sowlys com se,

How thei ly and sobbe, bothe eve and morewe.

With thi blyssyd blood ffrom babys hem borwe,

Thy careful creaturys cryenge in captyvyté,

A! tary not, gracyous Lord, tyl it be to-morwe,

The devyl hath dysceyved hem be his iniquité.

A! quod Jeremye, who xal gyff wellys to myn eynes,

That I may wepe bothe day and nyght?

To se oure bretheryn in so longe peynes,

Here myschevys amende may thi meche myght.

As grett as the se, Lord, was Adamys contryssyon ryght,

ffrom oure hed is ffalle the crowne,

Man is comeryd in synne, I crye to thi syght,

Gracyous Lord! Gracyous Lord! Gracyous Lord, come downe!

Virtutes. Lord! plesyth it thin hiȝ domynacion,

On man that thou made to have pyté,

Patryarchys and prophetys han mad supplycacion,

Oure offyse is to presente here prayeres to the.

Aungelys, archaungelys, we thre

That ben in the fyrst ierarchie,

ffor man to thin hy magesté,

Mercy! mercy! mercy! we crye.

The aungel, Lord, thou made so gloryous,

Whos synne hath mad hym a devyl in helle,

He mevyd man to be so contraryous,

Man repentyd, and he in his obstynacye doth dwelle.

Hese grete males, good Lord, repelle,

And take man onto thi grace,

Lete thi mercy, make hym with aungelys dwelle,

Of Locyfere to restore the place.

Pater. Propter miseriam inopum, et gemitum pauperum nunc exurgam.

ffor the wretchydnes of the nedy,

And the porys lamentacion,

Now xal I ryse that am Almyghty,

Tyme is come of reconsyliacion,

My prophetys with prayers have made supplicacion,

My contryte creaturys crye alle for comforte,

Alle myn aungellys in hefne, withowte cessacion,

They crye that grace to man myght exorte.

Veritas. Lord, I am thi dowtere, Trewthe,

Thou wilt se I be not lore,

Thyn unkynde creatures to save were rewthe,

The offens of man hath grevyd the sore.

Whan Adam had synnyd, thou seydest yore,

That he xulde deye and go to helle,

And now to blysse hym to restore,

Twey contraryes mow not togedyr dwelle.

Thy trewthe, Lord, xal leste withowtyn ende,

I may in no wyse ffro the go,

That wrecche that was to the so unkende,

He may not have to meche wo.

He dyspysyd the and plesyd thi ffo,

Thou art his creatour and he is thi creature,

Thou hast lovyd trewthe, it is seyd evyr mo,

Therfore in peynes lete hym evyrmore endure.

Misericordia. O ffadyr of mercye and God of comforte,

That counselle us in eche trybulacion,

Lete ȝour dowtere Mercy to ȝow resorte,

And on man that is myschevyd have compassyon.

Hym grevyth fful gretly his transgressyon,

Alle hefne and erthe crye ffor mercy,

Me semyth ther xuld be non excepcion,

Ther prayers ben offeryd so specyally.

Threwthe sseyth she hath evyr be than,

I graunt it wel she hath be so,

And thou seyst endlesly that mercy thou hast kept ffor man,

Than mercyabyl lorde, kepe us bothe to,

Thu seyst veritas mea et misericordia mea cum ipso,

Suffyr not thi sowlys than in sorwe to slepe,

That helle hownde that hatyth the byddyth hym ho,

Thi love man no lengere lete hym kepe.

Justicia. Mercy, me mervelyth what ȝow movyth,

ȝe know wel I am ȝour syster Ryghtwysnes,

God is ryghtfful and ryghtffulnes lovyth,

Man offendyd hym that is endles,

Therfore his endles punchement may nevyr sees;

Also he forsoke his makere that made hym of clay,

And the devyl to his mayster he ches,

Xulde he be savyd? nay! nay! nay!

As wyse as is God he wolde a be,

This was the abhomynabyl presumpcion,

It is seyd, ȝe know wel this of me,

That the ryghtwysnes of God hath no diffynicion.

Therffore late this be oure conclusyon,

He that sore synnyd ly stylle in sorwe,

He may nevyr make a subtyl resone,

Whoo myght thanne thens hym borwe.

Misericordia. Syster Ryghtwysnes, ȝe are to vengeabyl,

Endles synne God endles may restore,

Above alle hese werkys, God is mercyabyl,

Thow he forsook God be synne, be feyth he forsook hym never the more.

And thow he presumyd nevyr so sore,

ȝe must consyder the frelnes of mankende,

Lerne and ȝe lyst, this is Goddys lore,

The mercy of God is withowtyn ende.

Pax. To spare ȝour speches, systeres, it syt,

It is not onest in vertuys to ben dyscencion,

The pes of God ovyrcomyth alle wytt,

Thou Trewthe and Ryght sey grett reson.

ȝett Mercy seyth best to my pleson,

ffor yf mannys sowle xulde abyde in helle,

Betwen God and man evyr xulde be dyvysyon,

And than myght not I Pes dwelle.

Therefore me semyth best ȝe thus acorde,

Than hefne and erthe ȝe xul qweme,

Putt bothe ȝour sentens in oure Lorde,

And in his hyȝ wysdam lete hym deme.

This is most fyttynge me xulde seme,

And lete se how we ffowre may alle abyde,

That mannys sowle it xulde perysche it wore sweme,

Or that ony of us ffro othere xulde dyvyde.

Veritas. In trowthe hereto I consente,

I wole prey oure lorde it may so be.

Justicia. I Ryghtwysnes am wele contente,

ffor in hym is very equyté.

Misericordia. And I Mercy ffro this counsel wole not fle,

Tyl wysdam hath seyd I xal ses.

Pax. Here is God now, here is unyté,

Hefne and erthe is plesyd with pes.

ffilius. I thynke the thoughtys of Pes and nowth of wykkydnes,

This I deme to ses ȝour contraversy,

If Adam had not deyd, peryschyd had Ryghtwysnes,

And also Trewthe had be lost therby.

Trewth and Ryght wolde chastyse ffoly,

ȝiff another deth come not, Mercy xulde perysche,

Than Pes were exyled ffynyaly,

So tweyn dethis must be ȝow fowre to cherysche,

But he that xal deye ȝe must knawe,

That in hym may ben non iniquyté,

That helle may holde hym be no lawe,

But that he may pas at hese lyberté.

Qwere swyche on his prevyde and se,

And hese deth for mannys dethe xal be redempcion,

Alle hefne and erthe seke now ȝe,

Plesyth it ȝow this conclusyon.

Veritas. I, Trowthe, have sowte the erthe withowt and withinne,

And in sothe ther kan non be fownde,

That is of o day byrth withowte synne,

Nor to that dethe wole be bownde.

Misericordia. I, Mercy, have ronne the hevynly regyon rownde,

And ther is non of that charyté,

That ffor man wole suffre a deddly wounde,

I cannott wete how this xal be.

Justicia. Sure I can fynde non sufficyent,

ffor servauntys unprofytable we be eche one,

Hes love nedyth to be ful ardent,

That for man to helle wolde gon.

Pax. That God may do is non but on,

Therfore this is be hys avyse,

He that ȝaff this counselle lete hym ȝeve the comforte alon,

ffor the conclusyon in hym of alle these lyse.

ffilius. It peyneth me that man I mad,

That is to seyn peyne I must suffre sore,

A counsel of the Trinité must be had,

Whiche of us xal man restore.

Pater. In ȝour wysdam, son, man was mad thore,

And in wysdam was his temptacion,

Therfor, sone, sapyens ȝe must ordeyn herefore,

And se how of man may be salvation.

Filius. ffadyr, he that xal do this must be bothe God and man,

Lete me se how I may were that wede,

And sythe in my wysdam he began,

I am redy to do this dede.

Spiritus Sanctus. I the Holy Gost of ȝow tweyn do procede,

This charge I wole take on me,

I love to ȝour lover xal ȝow lede,

This is the assent of oure unyté.

Misericordia. Now is the loveday mad of us fowre fynialy,

Now may we leve in pes as we were wonte:

Misericordia et Veritas obviaverunt sibi,

Justicia et Pax osculatæ sunt.

Et hic osculabunt pariter omnes.

Pater. ffrom us, God, aungel Gabryel, thou xalte be sende,

Into the countré of Galylé,

The name of the cyté Naȝareth is kende,

To a mayd, weddyd to a man is she.

Of whom the name is Joseph se,

Of the hous of Davyd bore,

The name of the mayd ffre,

Is Mary that xal al restore.

ffilius. Say that she is withowte wo and ful of grace,

And that I the son of the Godhed of here xal be bore.

Hyȝe the thou were there apace,

Ellys we xal be there the before.

I have so grett hast to be man thore,

In that mekest and purest virgyne,

Sey here she xal restore,

Of ȝow aungellys the grett ruyne.

Spiritus Sanctus. And if she aske the how it myth be,

Telle her I the Holy Gost xal werke al this,

Sche xal be savyd thorwe oure unyté,

In tokyn here bareyn cosyn Elyȝabeth is

Qwyk with childe, in here grett age i-wys;

Sey here to us is nothynge impossyble,

Her body xal be so ful fylt with blys,

That she xal sone thynke this sownde credyble.

Gabriel. In thyn hey inbasset, Lord, I xal go,

It xal be do with a thought,

Beholde now, Lord, I go here to,

I take my flyth and byde nowth.

Ave Maria gratia plena, Dominus tecum!

Heyl, fful of grace, God is with the,

Amonge alle women blyssyd art thu;

Here this name Eva is turnyd Ave,

That is to say withowte sorwe ar ȝe now.

Thow sorwe in ȝow hath no place,

ȝett of joy, lady, ȝe nede more,

Therfore I adde and sey “fful of grace,”

ffor so ful of grace was nevyr non bore.

ȝett who hath grace, he nedyth kepyng sore,

Therfore I sey “God is with the,”

Whiche xal kepe ȝow endlesly thore,

So amonge alle women blyssyd are ȝe.

Maria. A! mercy God, this is a mervelyous herynge;

In the aungelys wordys I am trobelyd her,

I think how may be this gretynge,

Aungelys dayly to me doth aper.

But not in the lyknes of man that is my fer,

And also thus hyȝly to comendyd be,

And am most unwirthy, I cannot answere,

Grett shamfastnes and grett dred is in me.

Gabryel. Mary, in this take ȝe no drede,

ffor at God grace ffownde have ȝe,

ȝe xal conceyve in ȝour wombe indede

A childe, the sone of the Trynyté.

His name of ȝow Jhesu clepyd xal be,

He xall be grett, the son of the hyest clepyd of kende,

And of his ffadyr, Davyd, the Lord xal ȝeve hym the se,

Reynyng in the hous of Jacob, of whiche regne xal be non ende.

Maria. Aungel, I sey to ȝow,

In what manere of wyse xal this be?

ffor knowyng of man I have non now,

I have evyrmore kept and xal my virginyté.

I dowte not the wordys ȝe han seyd to me,

But I aske it xal be do.

Gabryel. The Holy Gost xal come fro above to the,

And the vertu of hym hyest xal schadu the so.

Therfore that Holy Gost of the xal be bore,

He xal be clepyd the son of God sage;

And se Elyȝabeth ȝour cosyn thore,

She hath conseyvid a son in hyre age;

This is the sexte monyth of here passage,

Of here that clepyd was bareyn:—

Nothynge is impossyble to Goddys usage.

They thynkyth longe to here what ȝe wyl seyn.

Here the aungel makyth a lytyl restynge, and Mary beholdyth hym, and the Aungel seythe,

Mary, come of, and haste the,

And take hede in thyn entent,

Whow the Holy gost, blyssyd he be!

Abydyth thin answere and thin assent;

Thorwe wyse werke of dyvinyté,

The secunde persone verament

Is mad man by fraternyté,

Withinne thiself in place present.

fferthermore take hede this space;

Whow alle the blyssyd spyrytys of vertu,

That are in hefne byffore Goddys face,

And alle the gode levers and trew

That are here in this erthely place,

Thyn owyn kynrede, the sothe ho knew,

And the chosyn sowlys, this tyme of grace,

That are in helle, and byde ther rescu.

As Adam, Abraham, and Davyd in fere,

And many othere of good reputacion,

That thin answer desyre to here,

And thin assent to the Incarnacion,

In whiche thou standyst as persevere,

Of alle mankende savacion;

Gyff me myn answere now, lady dere,

To alle these creatures comfortacion.

Maria. With alle mekenes I clyne to this acorde,

Bowynge down my face with alle benyngnyté;

Se here the hand-mayden of oure Lorde,

Aftyr thi worde be it don to me.

Gabryel. Gramercy, my lady ffre,

Gramercy of ȝour answere on hyght,

Gramercy of ȝour grett humylyté,

Gramercy, ȝe lanterne of lyght.

Here the Holy Gost discendit with iij. bemys to our Lady, the sone of the Godhed vest with iij. bemys to the Holy Gost, the fadyr Godly with iij. bemys to the sone, and so entre alle thre to her bosom, and Mary seyth,

Maria. A! now I ffele in my body be

Parfyte God and parfyte man,

Havyng alle schappe of chyldly carnalyté,

Evyn al at onys thus God began.

Nott takynge ffyrst o membyr and sythe another,

But parfyte childhod ȝe have anon;

Of ȝour handmayden now ȝe have mad ȝour modyr,

Withowte peyne in fflesche and bon.

Thus conceyved nevyr woman non,

That evyr was beynge in this lyff;

O, myn hyest ffadyr, in ȝour trone,

It is worthy ȝour son, now my son, have a prerogatyff.

I cannot telle what joy, what blysse,

Now I fele in my body!

Aungel Gabryel, I thank ȝow for thys,

Most mekely recomende me to my faderes mercy.

To have be the modyr of God fful lytyl wend I,—

Now myn cosyn Elyȝabeth ffayn wold I se,

How sche hath conseyvid as ȝe dede specyfy,

Now blyssyd be the hyȝ Trynyté.

Gabryel. ffareweyl, turtyl, Goddys dowtere dere,

ffarewel, Goddys modyr, I the honowre,

ffarewel, Goddys sustyr, and his pleynge fere,

ffarewel, Goddys chawmere and his bowre.

Maria. ffarewel, Gabryel, specyalye,

ffarewel, Goddys masangere expresse,

I thank ȝow for ȝour traveyl hye,

Gramercy of ȝour grett goodnes.

And namely of ȝour comfortabyl massage,

ffor I undyrstande by inspyracion,

That ȝe knowe by syngulere prevylage,

Most of my sonys incarnacion.

I pray ȝow take it into usage,

Be a custom ocupacion,

To vesyte me ofte be mene passage,—

ȝour presence is my comfortacion.

Gabriel. At ȝour wyl, lady, so xal it be,

ȝe gentyllest of blood and hyest of kynrede,

That reynyth in erthe in ony degré,

Be pryncypal incheson of the Godhede.

I comende me onto ȝow, thou trone of the Trinyté,

O mekest mayde, now the modyr of Jhesu;

Qwen of hefne, lady of erthe, and empres of helle be ȝe,

Socour to alle synful that wole to ȝow sew.

Thoro ȝour body beryth the babe oure blysse xal renew,

To ȝow, modyr of mercy, most mekely I recomende;

And as I began, I ende with an Ave new,

Enjonyd hefne and erthe with that I ascende.

Angeli cantando istam sequenciam:—

Ave Maria gratia plena!

Dominus tecum, virgo serena!