Chapter II: Part 2

“Poesy hath praise”: an ancient saying;
But weighing it, its mettle is but base:
Put case, a poet true art essaying
The braying of the unlettered race
Will chase him straightway forth from place,
Nor grace nor gear shall him repay.
But they some bold Tom Piper will agrace
Alway. Wherefore none may gainsay:
Through folly falls poesy to decay.

Fy ye blind and clumsy wits,
Poesy ye should strive to understand, and
Love it rightly, as befits.
Let it in honor on every hand stand;
By poesy only is a land grand.
Praise to them who own its sway!
Fy on the foolish who would have it out of hand bann’d!
Wherefore yet once more I say:
Through folly falls poesy to decay.

Prince, to poesy I will set my mind
And to its doctrine be faithfully inclined,
For it may be come at none other way.
But to the crafty seemeth it ever unkind
That the foolish be to poesy blind.

To hear this goodly ballat great press of folk gathered and Moonen beholding this did after his hellish kind and stirred among them such strife that one among the folk was stabbed to death. And he who did this had his head smote off. Thus Emma and Moonen lived at Antwerp at the sign of the “Golden Tree” in the market, where daily of his contriving were many murders and slayings together with every sort of wickedness. In the which he greatly rejoiced, saying with himself thus:

What prodigy can I do?
Hell, I hope, will lend its aid thereto,
And get of it fair gain.
If but a little longer I may here reign,
Hell-mouth will be filled till it split.
’Twere a pity this good inn to quit,
For all who live in riot and wantonness
And win a profit of very idleness,
Gamblers, fighters, daughters of the game,
Bawds and all they who use the same,
Of these there be here a goodly retinue,
And ’tis of them my profit doth accrue.
Wherefore in this house as for this time I will lie.
Now will I go ask of mine host in hie
At what cost we twain lodge here.
If I do stay, I will have good cheer
And all things wholly to my pay.
Betide what betide I will as I may
Keep mischief stirring here and there.
Within a year I would see a hundred stabbed, I swear,
So that Lucifer shall not lack company in Hell.
As a doctor of physic I will disguise me well.
Good Doctor Gallipot shall not want for renown.
I shall know where to find hidden treasure in every town.
This will spread my fame over all.
And whatsoever among folk may befall
It will be known to me just as it was.
More than a thousand shall run after me ere there pass
A month, my practice will be so sly.
So I will get treasure with the which none can vie.
My love Emma will eke love me the bet.
An if the Highest doth me no let,
Ere a year more than a thousand souls I shall have won;
If He otherwise wills, then my baking is done.

¶ How Emma doth a little lament her sinful life.

Emma thus dwelling in Antwerp and being ware of the evil of her life, since for her sake marvelous much wickedness was daily done of Moonen’s contriving, said with herself thus:

O memory and wit, took ye but thought
Upon the life that now I lead,
It would appear a thing of naught.
The brightness of Heaven ye have left and sought
The path of Hell, that is foul indeed.
Wellnigh each day doth some wight bleed
Or come even to his death for my sake.
And I wot well that Moonen doth this mischief breed.
He is not of the best, I undertake;
Though he saith little I may not him mistake:
He is a fiend or but little more.
O aunt, mine aunt, the foul words that ye spake
Will make of me a damned whore,
For whom God holds no grace in store.
Oh, woe is me and wellaway!
For any returning I bewandered too wide.
Mary I was wont to serve each day
With prayers or what else to her pay;
Now my devotions be wholly laid aside.
And eke he will me roundly chide
If I do cross myself, whereof he is not fain;
Whereby it is right easily descried
That he is evil, who crossing doth disdain.
How shall I repent? Alas, ’tis plain
That I be stept whither is no retreating.
Hola, yonder I have spied twain
To whom I yesterday did grant a merry meeting.
I must go forth and give them pleasant greeting.

After this she sat her down to drink with her potmates, among the which Moonen so wrought that again one of them met his death. And he who did it was led of Moonen beyond the city walls where at the devil’s prompting he slew yet another, in the hope, as Moonen had told, that he should thus possess him of great store of money; whereat Moonen rejoiced exceedingly saying:

Now by Lucifer’s subtlest engine in Hell,
These silly folk I befool them well.
One to another doth tell that I am my Lord So and so.
All that aileth the people I fully know,
Wherefore after me doth go great press of folk.
I give them counsel as good as ever was spoke;
Then I round it in the ear of many a goodwife
How they may plague their husbands out of their life.
Whereon the good man getteth such gobbets to his meat
That ere eight days he is snug in his winding sheet.
This merry cheat I have more than once played
And thereof Lucifer, I ween, is not evil apaid.
630 Likewise I take my good pleasure
In getting folk to seek out hidden treasure.
Thereby one got his bane but yesterday.
I told him where treasure had been hid away
Under the stay which did his stable found:
I said an he would delve deep in the ground
He would find many a pound of good red gold.
The fool straightway did as I told,
But when he had wholly digged away
The pillar’s foundation which was the stay
That held the stable firm in place,
Down it fell from top to base
And good my nuncle was buried under.
I shall perform still greater wonder
If from above I may have leave.
Men shall me for a god receive;
And Hellwards they shall pack in troops.

After Emma and Moonen had lived wellnigh six year in Antwerp at the sign of the “Golden Tree”, where marvelous much wickedness was done of them, it fell out that Emma was minded once more to see her eme and likewise her friends in the land of Guelders, and she prayed Moonen that he should thereto consent and fellow her on the journey thither, whereon he spake thus:

Emma, to your prayer I would not say no.
Ye say your friends ye would liefly see?

EMMA

Yea, that I would, if ye grant it so.

MOONEN

To your prayer, my love, I would not say no.

EMMA

Mine aunt at Nimmegen, mine eme at Venlo;
Sin I saw them be passed years four and three.

MOONEN

Wherefore to your prayer I will not say no.
And these your friends ye shall straightway see.

EMMA

They know not what hath befallen me
Nor where I be, no more than if earth had me swallowed.
Ever mine eme with love hath me followed;
I wot full many a tear he hath wept.

MOONEN

The old shave-crown’s prayers me oft have kept
When I was minded to rend her limb and lith.
Ere now I had broken her neck, but therewith
The old man’s prayers to the lady in white
Have stopped me quite; wherefore, despite
My will, not yet is she utterly caught.

EMMA

What say ye, Moonen?

MOONEN

Nought, dear, nought.
I give you leave, as ye require,
To see the friends to whom is your desire.
Go pay the reckoning with mine host of the Tree
And on the morrow thine eme we shall go see
Or thine other friends, as ye shall request.
To this I am prest.

EMMA

Then straight am I dress’d
To ask how it stands in our account
And pay it all wholly.

MOONEN

So do, and the amount
See that ye pay without question of the odd doit.—
I shall get no loss from this exploit,
’Tis no harm to visit her eme, the priest.
If I could catch him bare-breeched, at the least,
And so have him wholly at my desire,
I would shortly break the old shave-poll’s swire.
Were he away, the lass were mine without fail.
But my purpose is wholly without avail,
Save only the Omnipotent
Giveth thereto his full consent.

¶ How Emma and Moonen journeyed to Nimmegen.

Thus Emma and Moonen journeyed to Nimmegen, where they be come on Procession Day, whereat Emma rejoiced exceedingly. And Moonen to her spake thus:

Now, Emma, even as ye of me prayed,
Hither our journey we have made
To Nimmegen; and ’tis Procession Day.
Here your aunt had her dwelling, as ye say.
Will ye go see her?

EMMA

Yea, so much, mayhap;
But for lodging I would not ask her, nor for a scrap
To eat nor yet a drop to drink;
Thereof I would not think, lest o’er me she skink
The flood of her reproach, and entreat me once more
Even so shamelessly as she hath done yore.
’Twas the foul and wicked words she spake
Made me to these ill courses take,
The which I still am in, alas!

MOONEN

I bethink me, my love and solace,
That to go thither will little bestead.
Know your aunt is three years dead.

EMMA

What say ye, dead?

MOONEN

Yea, it is so.

EMMA

How know ye that?

MOONEN

Enough, I know.

EMMA

... This is not light to bear.

MOONEN

’Tis e’en so.

EMMA

Stay, what do they there?
Let us go look ere from hence we depart.
See what a press of people forth doth start.
Is it aught to see? Haste ye and enquire amain.

MOONEN

Nay, love, they will play somewhat on the pageant-wain.

EMMA

That do they every year on this day,
And as I mind, “Maskeroon” is the play.
Its goodly excellence is not lightly to be told,
Mine eme each year failed not it to behold.
Ah, Moonen, let us hear it.

MOONEN

’Tis silly gabbling.
Wherefore would ye give ear to such brabbling?
Bah, go we to the roast meat and the wine.

EMMA

Ah, Moonen, it was wont to be so brave and fine.
I have heard mine eme say that for its teaching
The play was better than many a preaching.
And in these plays oft times good ensamples there be.
Ah, love, if ye would thereto agree
I would fain see it.

MOONEN

To consent I am not glad.—
By Lucifer’s rump, I am sore adrad
Lest in the play she behold some virtuous condition
Whereof haply she may catch contrition.
By Lucifer, then were my high designs brought low.

EMMA

Ay, Moonen, let me hear it.

MOONEN

Well, see that ye be not slow
To come when I call, else will my wrath be great.

Emma besought Moonen so hardly that she might hear the play that he thereto consented, though sorely against his will as ye have heard. And the play began thus;

MASKEROON

Brr! hierio! I, Maskeroon, Lucifer’s advocate,
Make my appeal before the assize
Of Him called of men Most High and All Wise,
Because He showeth to the vile human race
More of His pity and of His grace
Than to us poor spirits, damned perpetually.
If all the sins that in the world there be
Were wholly done by one sole man
And then in heartfelt earnest he began
To feel remorse, straight he to grace hath won.
And we poor spirits, who have nought misdone,
Save for one brief presumptuous thought,
We be to the abyss down brought,
Hopeless in everlasting pain.
I, Lucifer’s procurator, ask again
The God of mercy wherefor of His grace
Comes less to us than to the race
Of men who daily sin on every side.

GOD

My mercy is to none denied
Who will repent him ere he die
And in season confess that I
Am God of justice and mildheartedness.
But they that grow hard in wickedness
And will not truly them repent
With Lucifer in the pit they shall be shent,
Where is wailing and hand-wringing.

MASKEROON

Thy justice fails in many a thing,
Though Thou art a just God called in every land and clime.
In Abraham’s, in Moses’, and in Davids’ time
Men might Thee indeed the just name,
But then didst Thou men blame and eke shame
And punish them for uncleanness of thought.
Nowadays though a child were with his mother naught,
Or spurned his father underfoot and him smote,
Yea, though one should thrust down his brother’s throat
All the evil that in the world is brewed,
And then but repented him in mood,
Straightway to him is thine abundant grace supplied.

GOD

Wherefore was it I the death died
Shamefully upon the cross of tree,
Were it not that man, whether young or old he be,
Might get him mercy at the hands of my Father?

MASKEROON

Wherefore shouldst Thou be wroth the rather,
In as much as Thou, naked and in vain,
Didst in Thy shameful death suffer such pain,
That mankind should be clean of sin;
Despite the which they do harden themselves in
Wickedness so unseemly and fell
That uneath may one it reckon and tell,
And but to think on maketh the mind distraught.
Such things as under the old law were not thought
Men do now boldly perform them as soon.

GOD

Therein thou liest not, Maskeroon:
The people be indeed so hard grown in sin
That, if some amendment doth not shortly begin,
My sharp sword of justice I will presently send,
Which shall cut off all them that do offend,
And eke My plagues, which are not light to endure.

OUR LADY

My child, if mankind with plagues Thou wouldst cure
It were to me pure sorrow. Let Thy wrath be staid.
Let there for man still a respite be made;
Send Thou him first a sign and a token,
Even as erewhile Thou hast unto him spoken:
Earthquakes, twin suns, or a hairy star,
That by these portents he may know how far
Thou art stepped beyond the measure of Thy wrath.
Thus peradventure man will leave the path
Of sin, lest he be worse plagued to his cost.

GOD

Nay, Mother, that were but labor lost;
I have full oft My portents shown,
Whereby My wrath they might well have known;
Pestilence, war, and season of dearth,
The which should have brought repentance upon earth
For the sins which wrong My divinity.
But the worse they are plagued the worse they be,
Not thinking of wailful death for ever and aye.
’Tis all: “what care I? At the last a prayer I will say
And the merciful God will save me from harm.”

Emma hearkening to this play bethought her of her sinful life with sad heart, with herself saying:

Lord God, how doth my blood grow warm
At the words I hear spoke on yon pageant-wain.
These be reasons and arguments so plain
That pure contrition I do begin to know.

MOONEN

Well, must we stand here forever? What say ye, ho!
Wherefore to hear this brabbling be ye fain?
Let us be gone, love.

EMMA

Nay, it is lost pain
Thus to call and hale and tug at me in this way.
Even so long as lasteth the play
To make me budge a step nought will avail.
’Tis better than a sermon.

MOONEN

Help, Lucifer’s tail!
I am in despair that here she should stay,
Lest to repentance she catch the nearest way
With the foolish blether to the which she giveth heed.
I will bide awhile, but if she cometh not erelong with speed
’Twill be my fists shall furnish arguments.

MASKEROON

O ruler of the heavens and the elements,
God that in justice sittest enthroned,
If but to Lucifer and the infernal synod were loaned
Thy will and power, then could we
Chastise mankind all utterly
Until from sinning they shall cease.
Thus only canst Thou win surcease
And they release, from the evils they do in Thy despight.
Thy hand of justice must them smite
If Thou wouldst make Thee known of men.

GOD

Maskeroon, it may not be over long till then
And I give thee leave to plague mankind,
For to good they will not be inclined
Or ere their stubborn necks I bend.

OUR LADY

O son, men will yet their evil ways amend.
Bethink Thee ere too swift Thy hand hath struck.
Bethink Thee on the breasts that gave Thee suck,
Bethink Thee on the bosom that did Thee enfold,
Bethink Thee on the passion Thou hast tholed,
Bethink Thee of the blood-offering Thou didst make.
Was it not all done for man his sake
That to Thy Father’s mercy he might win?
Thyself hast said that if a man should sin
In his sole self of sins each one
That ever upon earth were done
And heartily on Thee for mercy cried,
Thine arms to him would open wide.
This is Thy word as man well wot.

GOD

Lady Mother, I have spoken, and repent Me not,
But I say again that if a man commit
All the sins whereto he could bethink him in his wit,
If he confess and repent he shall be of the chosen straightway;
For liefer than one soul should go astray
I would suffer all the pain twice o’er
Which the Jews did unto Me in days of yore.
O man, this it behooveth thee to know.

The longer Emma hearkened to this play, even the more she bethought of her sins, saying thus:

Now do my tears begin to flow
And course adown my cheeks like rain.
Ah, to what contrition I do now attain
At hearkening to these words; O Lord of Lords,
Were it possible that should I turn me towards
Thy mercy, I might have of it some part?
Ere now contrition hath visited not my heart.
Were it possible? Alas, I fear me nay.
I be wandered too far out of the way,
Not letting reason be of my will the guide.
Open, O Earth, swallow me and hide,
For I am not worthy to tread on thee in any wise.

MOONEN

Help Modicack, how the flames start from mine eyes;
The lass hath got a crop full of contrition.
...
To some merry part of the town haste we
And there crush a cup of wine.

EMMA

Nay, let be,
Foul fiend, be gone without any tarrying!
Woe’s me, that ever I did such a thing
As summon you, God’s mercy all forgot.
Ah, ah! repentance within me doth burn so hot
It will consume my heart. Alas, I swound!
My strength hath left me.

MOONEN

Lucifer’s lights, liver and spleen confound!
Now may I sputter flames and howl;
Now runneth all my fair to foul;
And they who prowl in Hell will give me small acclaim.
Rise up in all the devils’ name
Or with hosen and shoon into the jakes ye go.

EMMA

O Lord, have mercy upon me!

MOONEN

Yea, stands it so?
Now I perceive remorse in her doth gnaw.
Up into the clouds I will her draw
And towering high down hurl her with might and with main;
If she to herself do come again,
The whelp may think her luck is fair.—
Here, here, ye go with me aloft in the air.

After these words hath Moonen the devil caught up Emma in the air higher than is any house or church, the which her uncle and all the people beheld, wondering exceedingly and not knowing what it might mean.

¶ How Moonen cast down Emma from on high and how she was discovered to her uncle.

When Moonen the devil had caught up Emma high above all the houses, he cast her down from above into the street as he was minded to break her neck, whereat the people were sore adrad. And Sir Gysbrecht, her eme, who hearkened also to the play, marveled what it meant and who it might be that fell from so great height, saying and asking of them that stood by thus:

Her luck is good if her neck be not broke in twain.
My heart feeleth unutterable pain
To look on one in such array.
Know ye her not? Who is the woman, I pray?

A BURGHER

I would fain see if I know her, without a doubt,
But there be such press of folk hereabout
That I may nowise come her to.
Follow me close, and ye shall see what I will do.
He is a fool says I am not stout to make them give ground.
See ye, sir, the poor lady lieth in a swound,
She be gone out of herself.

THE UNCLE

It is small wonder so.
Help, all the blood of my body from top to toe
Be crept from me forth, as I deem.
The tears do from mine eyes stream;
My veins be dead and my color turned into pale;
Never thus have I felt my strength fail.
Ah friend, have a care of me, I you beseech.

THE BURGHER

Stay sir, what aileth you, as by your speech?
Ye be changed as if ye were but dead.

THE UNCLE

I would well that were my fate instead.
O Atropos, grant me of my life release!

THE BURGHER

Wherefore do ye thus?

THE UNCLE

Oh, it is my niece,
For the which my heart is fulfilled of sorrow.
For her have I searched this seven year on even and on morrow.
Now lieth she here with her neck broken in twain.
O earth, open and swallow me amain;
Here I would no longer tarry.

THE BURGHER

Be ye sure ’tis she?

THE UNCLE

Should I not know her, marry?
Or mean ye that in my wit I fail?

MOONEN

Fire and brimstone, lightning and hail!
I befoul my tail out of pure ire;
But to a remedy I am none the nigher.
Yonder is her uncle; I am to cook this but will ye tell me how?
I had broken her neck long ere now,
But that the prayers of this holy priest
To make hard my way have not ceased.
An I might I would carry him straight to Lucifer.

THE BURGHER

Look, sir, I do see her somewhat stir.

THE UNCLE

Stir! That were the boot of all my bale.
’Tis true, she doth stir sikerly.

EMMA

Alas, what doth to me ail?
Where have I been, and be now in what place?
O Lord, stand I in Thy grace
That to Thy mercy I may come?
Yea, but Thy care had kept me from
The fiend, O Lord omnipotent,
In lasting torment I were shent,
Thrust soul and body beyond the reach
And scope of the Lord’s realm.

THE UNCLE

Since ye have speech,
Mary, my niece, then speak to me,
Who so many sighs for thee
Have sighed and many a moan have made,
Nor ever my questionings have staid;
And now I find you in this press, as it doth seem
In sorry plight.

EMMA

Ah, is it ye, mine eme?
Ah, would God I were in that case
Even now as then I was
When I last saw you ere my long journey was begun.
Ah, when my course of life I overrun
I fear me I am damned for aye.

THE UNCLE

Niece, ye err, I trow,
For none is lost who will not yield him so.
How should ye be damned? That were pity indeed.
How came ye hither? I would fain know with speed;
And ye were so high in air but now.
I prithee tell me thereof, if ye would allow.
Never saw I any so high, by my troth.

EMMA

Mine eme, I be alas full loath
To reckon up the tale of my aventures.
I gave me over wholly to the devil’s lures,
And after I have gone about with him for wellnigh seven year.
I may not lightly set it all clear, but thus briefly ye shall hear
Whither our way of life hath us took.
One could well thereof write a book.
There is none evil with mine which may compare;
And at the end of all this strange fare
I am come hither in land my friends to behold.
And even now as this way we strolled
We saw them in the market-place here
Playing the play of Maskeroon, to the which I gave ear.
At every word which I there heard
I caught such a contrition that it stirred
Him to wrath that stood by me and he flew,
Even as ye saw, high with me into air.

THE UNCLE

Alas and harru!
How, niece, was it the fiend that was with you here?

EMMA

Yea, eme, and ’tis now well nigh seven year
Since I yielded me to do his will and went
A wandering with him.

THE UNCLE

Help, God omnipotent!
Hearing this maketh me all aghast.
We must drive this fiend from you at the last,
If God’s kingdom ye would come to.

MOONEN

Ay, shave-crown, that may ye not do;
Ye may not me from her divide.
If it pleased me I would carry her hair and hide
Where is sulphur and pitch a plenty at the least.

THE UNCLE

Would ye, foul fiend?

MOONEN

Yea, that I would, horson priest.
She is mine, she hath yielded herself all wholly,
And renounced the Most High, and held with me,
Wherefore in the furnace of hell she must burn.
And, horson, would ye her from me turn?
I will strike you down all plat.

THE UNCLE

Foul fiend, I will let you of that.
Here in my breviary there stand
Eight or ten lines writ in a fair nand
Which will make you grin all otherwise.

MOONEN

Ah! ah! my fell of bristles doth rise
At the words he readeth; I know nor what to do nor how.
By Modicack, if she should scape me now
I shall be whipped with burning lash!
Yea, in rage my teeth I gnash,
And blow sparks from mouth and ears.
Now in me full plain appears
That if the Lord’s wrath we arouse in aught,
All we spirits may do is less than nought.
I fear me with this soul I need no longer tarry.

THE UNCLE

Go we, niece Mary, and I will you carry
To the deacon’s and there make up a fire.
Methinks your limbs be broke, for higher
He flew with you than one can think and then let fall,
Ye must be sore hurt.

EMMA

I count it nought at all
This pain, mine eme; though remedy be none.
More by ten thousand times I would not shun
Than all that pens could write for anything,
If only to me God’s mercy would cling.
I care not what befalls if but one day
Comfort and mercy may be mine.

THE UNCLE

Keep you in that way,
I promise you God’s kingdom to your cure.
We read alday in the blessed Scripture
That him who on God’s mercy would him cast
Nought so avails as repentance at the last.

After this Sir Gysbrecht is gone with his niece to all the most learned priests in the town of Nimmegen, but none of them, howsoever learned or expert or holy or devout, when they heard her story, durst undertake to absolve her or to prescribe to her penance for her sins, the which were fearful and against kind, whereat both they were sore downcast.

¶ How Sir Gysbrecht journeyed to Cologne with his niece.

The next day at early morn Sir Gysbrecht made preparations as if he would celebrate mass taking the precious holy sacrament in his hand and set out with Emma his niece on the way to Cologne. And Moonen the devil followed them from afar but he dare not approach nigh nor draw near to Emma in any wise on account o£ the power of the holy sacrament. Nevertheless he threw sometimes the half of an oak tree or another from above at them, minded to break both their necks, but our Lord would not allow it for she used daily to read a prayer in honor of our Blessed Lady. Thus they traveled so long and much that they came to Cologne where she confessed to the Bishop. But there no man knew what counsel to give her for her sin was so against kind and great that the Bishop had not power to absolve her.

¶ How Emma and her Uncle journeyed to Rome and how Emma confessed her to the Pope.

After this Emma and her eme departed them from the Bishop and leaving Cologne journeyed to Rome, where they be come after much travail and journeying. And Emma has made confession to the Pope with weeping eyes, saying:

O God’s vice-gerent, yea, God on earth, as we be told,
A sinner worse than I earth doth not hold;
Shut out from the bar of Heaven I be.

THE POPE

Wherefore, my child?

EMMA

The devil’s amie
I have been yea more than seven year
And with him have wandered far or near
Even at our will, and know ye for truth
Whatso man and wife do we have done in sooth.
Now say ye not that to fear me I do well?

THE POPE

What, child, and was it the fiend out of hell?
And wist ye that, when ye together went,
The fiend he was?

EMMA

Yea, father reverent.

THE POPE

How could ye with the fiend have ado
If ye wist ’twas he?

EMMA

Father, ’twas merry days for us two,
And the broad gold and all the rich fare
The which he gave me, be ye well ware
’Twas these tempted me, wherefore I am now shamed.
There was nought in the whole world that I named
He did not give it me straight even as I willed.
But this with the sorrow whereof I now most am filled,
And the which hath my heart cleft clean in twain,
’Tis that so many folk were slain
Whithersoever we be come in our way.
More than two hundred, reverend father, I say,
Be for my sake miserably dead,
One time or another.

THE POPE

Almighty Godhead!
For such misdeeds ye may well live in sorrow.

EMMA

O father, if it may be, be to me borrow
And give me penance or ere we part,
I reck not how heavy.

THE POPE

I scarce have heart
To tent so deep into the mercy of the Lord.
What, that ye should with the fiend be at accord!
Such crimes in confession I have not heard tell!
And furthermore by your wiles ye have sent pell-mell
So many the way their life they should lose!
I may scarce know what penance to choose
Heavy enough for such mortal sin.
To dwell with the fiend was but a bestial life to be in.
O Godhead, whereof doth not begin or end the grace,
Wilt Thou guide me as in this case,
Beneath the which my wit doth bow and bend!
O Judge enthroned in justice, do Thou send
Thine inspiration from on high!
Hola, my course I clear descry;
Me were full loath that damned ye be.
The priest was with you, summon hither to me.
Your penance ye shall hear without all doubt.

EMMA

Where be ye, eme?

THE UNCLE

I stand here without,
And full of care till it doth appear
How it shall go with her.

THE POPE

Now ye my judgment hear:
It were a thing right pitiful to see
That any should be damned, if cure there be,
Nor doth God unmoved behold such things.
See, here be three iron rings;
The greatest ye shall her neck lock round,
The other two, without sigh or sound,
Lock on her arms, both fast and strong.
And let her bear them how so long
It be that they wear away and fall.
1080 Then shall her sins be forgiven all.
Nor till then shall she be of them quit.

THE UNCLE

’Twill be full long, as to my wit,
Ere of themselves they fall to ground,
For they be of weight so many a pound
That in an hundred year they will wear never
A farthing thickness.

THE POPE

Yet may she so persever
Heartily in a state of penitence
That the rings will of themselves fall hence
From neck and arms and leave them bare.
But see ye lock them fast.

THE UNCLE

Father, I swear
They shall be locked so stout and stark,
If they come off ’twill be God’s mark.
O priest and clerk above each earthly state,
With your good favor we will take our leave straight,
And go again our gate back to the land
Whence we be come.

THE POPE

May He whose hand
Dispenseth mercy soften your affliction.

EMMA

Adieu, holy Father.

THE POPE

Daughter, go in God’s protection,
And keep ye wholly in penitence,
For above with the Highest Excellence
Is pure penitence held more dear
Than ought that we may read or hear.

Thus hath Emma received her penance from the Pope. And her eme straightway let make the rings so fast about her neck and arms that in her lifedays they might not be done off but by the will and the miracle of our dear Lord.

¶ How Emma journeyed from Rome and how she became a nun at the cloister of Converted Sinners at Maestricht.

Whenas Emma hath put on the rings like as ye have heard she departed her with her eme from Rome the city and they two journeyed so long until they were come to Maestricht where Emma was holpen of her uncle to be a nun in the cloister of the Converted Sinners. And after he had thereto holpen her he took his leave of her and journeyed to his own country where he lived yet twenty-four year after he had holpen his niece to come into the cloister, the which he visited each year so long as he lived.

¶ How the angel of God did off the rings from Emma’s neck and hands.

Emma dwelling in the aforesaid cloister lived so holily and did such strong penance that the merciful Christ forgave her utterly her sins, sending his angel to her where she lay and slept, the which did off the rings, whereat Emma rejoiced greatly, saying:

Long nights are little to him lief
Who lieth sorrowful of heart;
His sleep is great unrest or greater grief,
With fearsome dreams and other such mischief.
Even thus I now feel sorrow’s smart.
Who will the meaning to me impart
Of this my dream wherein I lay?
Meseemed from hell-pit I did start
And heavenwards was borne away.
There many white doves I met in the way,
The which my bonds struck with their wings.
O merciful God, what see I? Stay!
To Thine high grace have I won for aye?
Ah yea, ’tis true; there be my rings
Beside me lying. King of kings,
What cure art Thou for all misease!
No thanks suffice Thee for to please
In any stound.
O man, in whom all sin is found,
Hereby may ye ensample take;
And to His worth that knows no bound
Let everlasting laud and praise resound,
Even such as your faint voice may wake:
Praise ye the Lord in His temple for the Lord His sake,

_EPILOGUE_

Even thus, O ye whom God loves well,
In days of yore these things befell
All truly, though some hold it for a fable.
But go ye to Maestricht, an ye be able,
And in the Converted Sinners shall ye see
The grave of Emma, and there all three
The rings be hung above her grave.
Thereunto stands writ in goodly stave
Her way of life and her penance
And how and when all this did chance.
By these tokens I hold its truth for clear.
She lived the space of two full year,
Sithens the rings were fallen away,
Faithful in penance, as I heard say,
Ever to pleasure the Highest King.—
Take all in gree, without grutching,
This simple tale: ’twas writ for love,
That we may win to heavenly glory above.

¶ AMEN

¶ This Book hath been examined and approved by a learned man thereto appointed.