Pearl - translation

Perle plesaunte, to prynces paye / To clanly clos in golde so clere:/ Oute of oryent, I hardyly saye,/ Ne proued I neuer her precios pere./ So rounde, so reken in vche araye, / So smal, so smope her sydez were; / Queresoeuer I jugged gemmez gayeI sette hyr sengeley in synglure. / Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere; / Pur3 gresse to grounde hit fro me yot./ I dewyne, fordoIked of Iuf-daungere / Of pat pryuy perIe withouten spot.

Pearl, delightful for a prince to set splendidly in bright gold for his pleasure! I say with certainty that never did I discover her precious equal from the Orient. So round, so elegant in every setting, so slender, so smooth were her sides; wherever I appraised fine gems, I set her apart as unique. Alas, I lost her in a garden; it went from me through the grass into the ground. I waste away, terribly wounded by grief for love of that spotless pearl of mine.

Sypen in pat spote hit fro me sprange, / Ofte haf I wayted, wyschande pat weIe / Pat wont watz whyIe deuoyde my wrange / And heuen my happe and aI my heIe- / Pat dotz bot prych my hert prange, / My breste in bale bot boIne and bele. / 3et p03t me neuer so swete a sange / As stylle stounde let to me stele. / F orsope per fleten to me fele. / T 0- penke hir color so clad in clot! / To maul, pou marrez a myry juele, / My priuy perle withouten spotte.

Ever since it sprang from me in that place, I’ve often kept watch, longing for that source of joy that once used to dispel my pain and build up my happiness and all my well-being. That merely stabs my heart painfully and causes my breast to swell and burn in agony. Yet it seemed to me there was no song as sweet as a quiet moment allowed to steal up on me; indeed many such songs flood over me. To think her colour so clothed in mud! O earth, you spoil a lovely jewel, my own spotless pearl!

Pat spot of spysez mat nedez sprede, / Per such rychez to rot is runne; / Blomez blayke and blwe and rede / Per schynez ful schyr agayn pe sunne./ Flor and fryte may not be fede / Per hit doun drof in moldez dunne,/ For vch gresse mot grow of graynez dede;/ No whete were ellez to wonez wonne. / Of goud vche goude is ay bygonne: / So semly a sede moyt fayly not, / Pat spryngande spycez vp ne sponne / Of pat precios perle wythou ten spotte.

That spot of spices must necessarily spread where such richness has rotted away. Blooms, white and blue and red, gleam brightly there in the sunshine. Flower and fruit cannot lack colour where it sank down in dark clouds, since every plant must grow from dead seeds, otherwise no wheat would be brought into barns. Every good always derives from good: such a lovely seed cannot wither away without flourishing spices springing up from that precious, spotless pearl

To pat spot pat I in speche expound / I entred in pat erber grene, / In Augoste in a hY3 seysoun, / Quen corne is coruen wyth crokez kene./ On huyle per perle hit trendeled doun / Schadowed pis wortez fuI schyre and schene: / Gilofre, gyngure, and gromylyoun, / And pyonys powdered ay bytwene. / 3if hit watz semIy on to sene, / A fayrre flayr 3et fro hit flot, / Per wonys pat worpyly, I wot and wene, / My precious perIe wythouten spot

I entered that green garden, to that spot which I am describing, in August in high season when corn is cut with sharp scythes. On the mound where the pearl had sunk down, these bright and lovely plants cast a shade: gillyflower, ginger and gromwell, and peonies scattered among them. Beautiful as this was to look upon, an even more lovely scent drifted from it. That excellent one dwells there, I know for sure, my precious, spotless pearl

Bifore pat spot my honcle I spend / For care fuI coIde pat to me ca3t; / A deueIy dele in my hert denned, / Pa3 resoun sette myseIuen sa3t. / I playned my perle pat per watz penned, / Wyth fyree skyllez pat faste fa3t. / Pa3 kynde of Kryst me comfort kenned, / My wreehed wylle in wo ay wragte. / I felle vpon pat floury fla3t, / Suche odour to my hernez schot; / I slode vpon a slepyng-slagte / On pat preeios perle withouten spot.

I clenched my hands before that spot for the chill sorrow that seized me; a desolating grief took occupation of my heart, though reason offered me reconciliation. With fierce arguments that contended forcefully, I mourned my pearl that was imprisoned there. Though the nature of Christ taught me consolation, my wretched will was ever in torment. I fell upon that flowery turf; such scent shot to my brains that I slid into a sudden sleep on that precious, spotless pearl

Fro spot my spyryt per sprang in space; / My body on balke per bod in sweuen. / My goste is gon in Godez grace, / In auenture per meruaylez meuen. / I ne wyste in pis worlde quere pat hit wace, / Bot I knew me keste per klyfez cleuen. / Towarde a foreste I bere pe face, / Where rych rokkez wer to dyscreuen. / I>e IY3t of hem mY3t no mon leuen, / Pe glemande glory pat of hem glent, / For wern neuer webbez bat WY3ez weuen / Of half so dere adubbemente.

In a while my spirit sprang from that spot; my body remained there dreaming on the mound. In the grace of God my spirit went on a quest in which marvels take place. Though I did not know where in the world it was, I knew that I was set down where cliffs split apart. I turned my face towards a forest where splendid rocks were to be seen. No-one would credit their brightness, the gleaming radiance that glinted from them, for fabrics that humans weave were never of half such glorious splendour.

Dubbed wern alle po downez sydez / With crystal klyfTez so cler of kynde. / Holtewodez brY3t aboute hem bydez / Of bollez as blwe as bIe of Ynde; / As bornyst syluer pe lef on slydez, / Pat pike con trylle on vch a tynde; / Quen glem of glodez agaynz hem gIydez, / Wyth schymeryng schene ful schrylle pay schynde. / Pe grauayI pat on grounde con grynde / Wern precious perlez of oryente; / Pe sunne bemez bot bIo and bIynde / In respecte of pat adubbement.

All those hill-sides were resplendent with crystal cliffs of such pure  quality. Shining woods stand around them with tree-trunks as blue as the colour of indigo. The leaf that quivers abundantly on every branch slides over like polished silver; when the light from the open spaces falls on them, they shone most dazzlingly with bright shimmering. The gravel that crunched underfoot was of precious oriental pearls; the sunbeams were merely dark and dull in comparison with that splendour.

The adubbemente of po downez dere / Garten my goste al greffe for3ete. / So frech flauorez of frytez were, / As fode hit con me fayre refete. / Fowlez per flowen in fryth in fere, / Of flaumbande hwez, bope smale and grete; / Bot sytole-stryng and gyternere / Her reken myrpe m03t not retrete, / For quen pose bryddez her wyngez bete, / Pay songen wyth a swete asent. / So gracios gle coupe no mon gete / As here and se her adubbement.

The splendour of those lovely hills caused my spirit to forget all its sorrow. The scents of the fruits were so refreshing that they restored me delightfully as food does. Birds of dazzling colours, both small and large, flew there together in the wood, yet no citole-string and gittern player would be able to reproduce their fine music, for when those birds beat their wings they sang with a sweet harmony. No-one could have such gracious entertainment as to hear and see their splendour

So al watz dubbet on dere asyse / Pat fryth per Fortwne forth me ferez / Pe derpe perof for to deuyse / Nis no wY3 worpe pat tonge berez. / I welke ay forth in wely wyse, / No bonk so byg pat did me derez. / Pe fyrre in pe fryth, pe feier con ryse / Pe playn, pe plonttez, pe spyse, pe perez; / And rawez and randez and rych reuerez, / As fyldor fyn her bonkes brent. / I wan to a water by schore pat scherez; / Lorde, dere watz hit adubbernent!

So that wood where fortune leads me forward was all adorned in a splendid fashion; there is no-one with the power of speech capable of describing the loveliness of it. I walked ever onwards in a happy state; there was no hill big enough to cause me difficulties. The further into the wood, the more beautifully rose into sight the meadow, the bushes, the spice-plants, the pear trees, and hedgerows, and ridges, and lovely water-meadows, their steep banks like fine gold thread. I reached a river that winds along by a slope; Lord, how wonderful its splendour was!

The dubbemente of po derworth depe / Wern bonkez bene of beryl bryyt. / Swangeande swete pe water con swepe, / Wyth a rownande rourde raykande arygt. / In pe founce per stoden stonez stepe, / As glente pur3 glas pat glowed and glY3t- / As stremande sternez, quen strobe-men slepe, / Staren in welkyn in wynter nY3t; / For vche a pobbel in pole per PY3t / Watz emerad, saffer, oper gemme gente, / Pat alle be I03e lemed of IY3t, / So dere watz hit adubbement.

The splendour of those lovely deep waters were fine banks of bright beryl. The water swept along purling delightfully, rushing ahead with a murmuring sound. In the river-bed there stand bright stones that glowed and glinted like a shaft of light through glass, as gleaming stars shine in the sky on a winter night when earthlings are asleep; for every pebble set there in the pool was emerald, sapphire or precious stone, so that all the water shone with light, so glorious was its splendour!

The dubbement dere of doun and dalez, / Of wad and water' and wlonk pIaynez, / ByIde in me bIys, abated my baIez, / Fordidden my stresse, dystryed my paynez. / Doun after a strem pat dryjly halez / I bowed in blys, bredful my braynez; / Pe fyrre I foI3ed pose floty valez, / Pe more strenghpe of joye myn herte straynez. / As Fortune fares peras ho fraynez, / Wheper solace ho sende oper ellez sore, / Pe wY3 to wham her wylle ho waynez / Hyttez to haue ay more and more.

The lovely splendour of hill and dales, of wood and water and beautiful meadows, strengthened bliss in me, alleviated my sorrows, dispelled my distress, put an end to my miseries. I walked blissfully down along a river that flows continuously, my mind brim-full. The further I followed those watery valleys, the more intensity of joy binds my heart. As is the way with Fortune wherever she tests somebody, whether she sends either solace or sorrow, the one to whom she sends what she pleases always gets to have more and more

More of wele watz in pat wyse / Pen I cowpe telle pa3 I tom hade, / For vrpely herte mY3t not suffyse / To pe tenpe dole of po gladnez glade. / Forpy I p03t pat paradyse / Watz per ouer gayn po bonkez brade; / I hoped pe water were a deuyse / Bytwene myrbez by merez made; / BY30nde pe broke, by slente oper slade, / I hoped pat mote merked wore. / Bot pe water watz depe, I dorst not wade, / And euer me longed ay more and more.

There was more delight in that situation than I could describe even if I had the opportunity, for an earthly heart could not have capacity for a tenth part of those joyful joys. Therefore I thought that paradise was there or towards those broad hills. I supposed the river might be a boundary between delightful places made by waters; I supposed that city would be situated beyond the river, by slope or valley. But the water was deep, I dared not wade, and all the time I felt longing, more and more

More and more, and 3et wel mare, / Me lyste to se pe broke bY30nde, / For if hit watz fayr per I con fare, / Wel loueloker watz pe fyrre londe. / Abowte me con I stote and stare; / To fynde a forpe faste con I fonde, / Bot wopez mo iwysse per ware, / Pe fyrre I stalked by be stronde; / And euer me p03t I schulde not wonde / For wo per welez so wynne wore. / Penne nwe note me corn on honed / Pat meued my mynde ay more and more.

More and more, and yet still more, I wanted to see beyond the brook, for if it was beautiful where I walked, much lovelier was the country further off. I stopped and stared around me: I tried hard to find a fording-place, but indeed the further I ventured along the riverbank, the more perils there were; and always it seemed to me that I should not hold back on account of the difficulty where the pleasures were so delightful. Then a new matter came to hand that stirred my mind evermore and more.

 

More meruayle con my dom adaunt. / I se3 bY30nde pat myry mere / A crystal clytte tul relusaunt: / Mony ryal ray con fro hit rere./ At pe fote perof per sete a faunt, / A mayden of menske, ful debonere; / Blysnande whyt watz hyr bleaunt; / I knew hyr wel, I hade sen hyr ere. / As glysnande golde pat man con schere, / So schon pat schene anvnder schore. / On lenghe I loked to hyr pere; / Pe lenger, I knew hyr more and more.

More wonder overcame my faculties: beyond that fine river I saw a crystal cliff gleaming brightly, many a glorious beam of light was reflected from it. At its foot sat a child, a maiden of dignity, most gracious; her mantle was gleaming white. I knew her well, I had seen her before! Beneath the cliff that lovely girl shone like glistening gold that has been cut. I gazed at her there for a long time; the longer I looked, the more and more I knew her

The more I frayste hyr fayre face, / Her fygure fyn quen I had fonte, / Suche gladande glory con to me glace / As lyttel byfore perto watz wonte./ To calle hyr lyste con me enchace, / Bot baysment gef myn hert a brunt. / I se3 hyr in so strange a place- / Such a burre myjt make myn herte blunt. / Penne verez ho vp her fayre frount, / Hyr vysayge whyt as playn yuore: / Pat stonge myn hert ful stray atount / And euer pe lenger, pe more and more

The more I examined her lovely face when I had caught sight of her fair form, such an exhilarating sense of glory swept over me as had seldom been used to do before. Longing urged me on to call her, but bewilderment dealt my heart a buffet. I saw her in so strange a place, such a shock might well numb my heart. Then she raises her lovely forehead, her face white as polished ivory. That pierced my heart, stunned into confusion, which increased more and more the longer I looked.

More pen me lyste my drede aros: / I stod ful stylle and dorste not calle; / Wyth Y3en open and mouth ful clos / I stod as hende as hawk in halle. / I hoped pat gostly watz pat porpose; / I dred onende quat schulde byfalle, / Lest ho me eschaped pat I per chos, / Er I at steuen hir mojt stalle. / Pat gracios gay withouten galle, / So smope, so smal, so seme slY3t, / Rysez vp in hir ara ye ryalle, / A precios pyece in perlez PY3t

My fear rose more than I wished; I stood quite still and dared not callout. With eyes open and mouth closed tight, I stood as meek as a hawk in a hall. I believed the import was a spiritual one: I was frightened about what would happen in case she whom I saw there escaped from me before I could detain her in conversation. That gracious, spotless fair one, so smooth, so slim, so beautifully slender, arises in her royal attire, a precious person arrayed in pearls

Perlez PY3te of ryal prys / Pere moyt mon by grace haf sene, / Quen pat frech as flor-de-lys / Doun pe bonke con b03e bydene. / Al blysnande whyt watz hir beau biys, / Vpon at sydez, and bounden bene / Wyth be myryeste margarys, at my deuyse, / Pat euer I se3 3et with myn Y3en; / Wyth lappez large, I wot and I wene, / Dubbed with double perle and dY3te; / Her cortel of self sute schene, / With precios perlez al vmbepyyte.

By grace one might have seen pearls of supreme value arrayed there when that girl, fresh as a lily, came directly down the slope. Her beautiful linen dress was all glistening white, open at the sides and attractively set with the loveliest pearls, in my estimation, that I had ever yet set eyes upon; with wide sleeves, I know full well, adorned and set with double pearl, her lovely tunic of the same colour, arrayed all over with precious pearls

A PY3t coroune 3et werpat gyrle / Of marjorys and non oper ston, / Hije pynakled of cler quyt perle, / Wyth flurted flowrez perfet vpon. / To hed hade ho non oper werle; / Her lere-Ieke al hyr vmbegon; / Her semblaunt sade for doe oper erle, / Her ble more blayt pen whallez bono / As schorne golde schyr her fax penne schon, / On schylderez pat leghe vnlapped IY3te. / Her depe colour 3et wonted non / Of precios perle in porfyl PY3te

That girl also wore a crown arrayed with margery- pearls and no other gem, with high pinnacles of clear white pearl, perfectly adorned with floral designs; she had no other circlet for her head, her veil encircled her face, her expression dignified enough for a duke or earl, her complexion whiter than whalebone. Her hair shone bright as cut gold, lying unbound lightly on her shoulders; furthermore her intense whiteness was not less than that of the precious pearls that were arrayed in embroidered borders

PY3t watz poyned and vche a hemme- / At honde, at sydez, at ouerture- / Wyth whyte perle and non oper gemme, / And bornyste quyte watz hyr uesture. / Bot a wonder perle withouten wemme / Inmyddez hyr breste watz sette so sure; / A mannez dom moyt dryjly demme / Er mynde mojt malte in hit mesure. / I hope no tong moyt endure / No sauerly saghe say of pat sY3t, / So watz hit clene and cler and pure, / Pat precios perle per hit watz PY3t.

The wristband and every hem, at the hand, at the sides and at the opening at the neck, were arrayed with white pearl and no other gem, and her clothing was gleaming white. Moreover a magnificent pearl without a flaw was set very securely in the middle of her breast. Human judgement might be utterly dumbfounded before the mind could comprehend the measure of it. I suppose no tongue could manage to describe that sight with words that captured it, so lustrous and clear and pure it was, that precious pearl where it was arrayed

PY3t in perle, pat precios pyse / On wyper half water corn doun pe schore. / No gladder gome hepen into Grece / Pen I quen ho on brymme wore; / Ho watz me nerre pen aunte or nece: / My joy forpy watz much pe more. / Ho profered me speche, pat special spyee, / Enclynande lowe in wommon lore, / Ca3te of her coroun of grete tresore / And haylsed me wyth a lote IY3te. / Wel watz me pat euer I watz bore / To sware pat swete in perlez PY3te

Arrayed in pearl, that precious person came down the shore on the far side of the river; there was no happier man between here and Greecethan I when she was at the river’s edge. She was closer to me than auntor niece, and so my joy was much the greater. She addressed me, thatspecial beloved, bowing low in a woman’s fashion, lifted off her crownof great value and greeted me with a joyful voice. Happy was I that everI was born to reply to that sweet one arrayed in pearls

'0 perle,' quop I, 'in perlez PY3t, / Art pou my perle pat I haf playned, / Regretted by myn one on nY3te? / Much longeyng haf I for l>e layned, / Sypen into gresse pou me aglyjte, / Pensyf, payred, I am forpayned, / And pou in a lyf of lykyng IY3te~ / In paradys erde, of stryf vnstrayned./ What Wyrde hatz hyder my juel vayned, / And don me in pys del and gret daunger? / Fro we in twynne wern towen and twayned, / I haf ben a joylez juelere.

‘O pearl’, I said, ‘arrayed in pearls! Are you my pearl that I’ve sorrowed for, lamented alone at night? I’ve hidden much longing for you since you slipped away from me into the grass. Sorrowful, broken, I’m full of pain, and you’re in a life of delight, in the land of Paradise, undisturbed by struggle! What fate has sent my jewel here, and left me in this sorrow and great yearning? Since we were torn apart and separated, I’ve been a joyless jeweller

That juel penne in gemmez gente / Vered vp her vyse with Y3en graye, / Set on hyr coroun of perle orient, / And soberly after penne con ho say: / 'Sir, 3e haf your tale mysetente, / To say your perle is al awaye, / Pat is in cofer so comly clente / As in pis gardyn gracios gaye, / Hereinne to lenge for euer and play, / Per mys nee mornyng corn neuer nere. / Her were a forser for pe, in faye, / If pou were a gentyl jueler

Then that jewel in elegant gems raised her face with its grey eyes, put on her crown of orient pearl, and after that said gravely: ‘Sir, you’ve spoken mistakenly to say your pearl is quite lost, which is so attractively enclosed in a casket such as this pleasant and lovely garden, to live here for ever and be joyful, where loss and mourning never approach. Here would be a strong-box for you, indeed, if you were a gracious jeweller

'Bot, jueler gente, if pou schal lose / l>y joy for a gemme pat pe watz lef / Me pynk pe put in a mad porpose, / And busyez pe aboute a raysoun bref; / For pat pou lestez watz bot a rose / l>at flowred and fayled as kynde hyt gef; / Now pur3 kynde of be kyste pat hyt con close / To a perle of prys hit is put in pref. / And pou hatz called py Wyrde a pef, / pat 03t of n03t hatz mad pe cler; / pou blamez pe bote of py meschef; / pou art no kynde jueler.

[‘But, worthy jeweller, if you’re going to lose your happiness for a gem that was precious to you, it seems to me that you’re set on a foolish course, and concern yourself about a short-lived matter; for what you lost was merely a rose that flowered and faded in accordance with nature. Now through the nature of the casket that encloses it, it has proved to be a pearl of great price. And you’ve called your fate a thief, which has plainly made for you something out of nothing! You’re blaming what is the remedy for your misfortune. You’re no fair-minded jeweller!’

A juel to me pen watz pys geste, / And jueIez wern hyr gentyl sawez. / 'Iwyse,' quop I, 'my blysfol beste,/ My grete dystresse pou al todrawez. / To be excused I make requeste. / I trawed my perle don out of dawez; / Now haf 1 fonde hyt, 1 schal ma feste, / And wony with hyt in schyr wod-schawez, / And loue my Lorde and al His lawez / I>at hatz me brojt pys blys ner. / Now were I at yow byjonde pise wawez, / 1 were a joyfol jueler.'

Then this visitor was a jewel to me, and her gracious words were jewels ‘Indeed,’ I said, ‘my blessed best one, you quite banish my great distress. I ask you to forgive me. I believed my pearl was taken from life. Now I’ve found it I’ll rejoice and live with it in bright woodland groves, and praise my Lord and all his decrees that has brought me towards this joy. Now if I were with you beyond these waves, I’d be a joyful jeweller.’

jueler,' sayde pat gemme clene, / 'Wy borde 3e men? So madde 3e be! / I>re wordez hatz pou spoken at ene: / Vnavysed, forsope, wern alle pre. / I>ou ne woste in worlde quat on dotz mene; / Ily worde byfore py wytte con fle. / Pou says pou trawez me in pis dene / Bycawse pou may with Y3en me se; / Anoper, pou says in pys countre / I>yselfschal won with me rY3t here; / Pe prydde, to passe pys water fre: / Pat may no joyfol jueler

‘Jeweller,’ said that pure gem, ‘Why do you people joke? You’re so foolish! You’ve made three statements at one go; truly all three were ill-considered. You don’t know what in the world any one of them means! Your words flew ahead of your understanding. You say you believe that I’m in this valley because you can see me with your eyes. Again, you say that you’ll live with me right here in this country, and thirdly, that you’ll cross this lovely water. No joyful jeweller can do that.

'I halde pat jueler lyttel to prayse / Pat leuez wel pat he sez wyth Y3e, / And much to blame and vncortoyse / Pat leuez oure Lorde woIde make a lY3e, / Pat Ielly hY3te your lyf to rayse, / I>a3 Fortune dyd your flesch to dY3e. / 3e setten Hys wordez ful westernays / Pat leuez nopynk bot 3e hit sY3e; / And pat is a poynt 0 sorquydryge, / Pat vche god mon may eueI byseme, / To leue no tale be true to trY3e / Bot pat hys one skyl maydern.

‘I regard that jeweller as scarcely to be praised who fully believes what he has seen with his eye, and greatly to be blamed and discourteous who believes our Lord would deceive, who faithfully promised to raise you to life although fortune caused your flesh to die. You, who believe nothing unless you have seen it, deny his words entirely, and that’s an instance of pride which ill befits any good man, to believe no statement is proved true unless his reason alone may determine it.

'Deme now pyself if pou con daily / As man to God wordez schulde heue. / Pou saytz pou schal won in pis bayly; / Me pynk pe burde fyrst aske leue- / And 3et of graunt pou rnyytez fayle. / Pou wylnez ouerpys water to weue; / E~ moste pou ceuer to oper counsayl. / I>y corse in clot mot calder ..keue, / For hit watz forgarte at paradys greue; / Oure 30refader hit con mysse3eme. / l>ur3 drwry deth boz vch man dreue, / Er ouer pys dam hym Drygtyn deme.'

‘You yourself judge now whether you spoke courteously, as a man should address words to God. You say you are going to live in this realm; it strikes me you first have to ask permission, and even so you might fail to be granted it. You want to come over this water; before that you must adopt another course: your corpse must sink quite cold into the earth, for it was forfeited in the grove of Paradise; our forefather took no care of it. Each man must pass through cruel death before God will permit him over this river.

'Demez pou me,' quop I, 'my swete, / To dol agayn? Penne I dowyne. / Now haf I fonte pat I forlete, / Schal I efte forgo hit er euer I fyne? / Why schaI I hit bope mysse and mete? / My precios perIe dotz me gret pyne. / What seruez tresor bot garez men grete, / When he hit schaI efte with tenez tyne? / Now rech I neuer for to declyne, / Ne how fer of foIde pat man me fleme. / When I am partlez of perle myne, / Bot durande doel what may men deme?'

‘If you condemn me’, said I, ‘to sorrow again, my sweet, then I’ll pine away. Now that I’ve found what I’d lost, must I do without it again before my life ends? Why must I both lose and find it? My precious pearl causes me great misery. What good is treasure except to make one weep when afterwards one must lose it with sorrows? Now I’ve no care at all if I go downhill, nor how far distant I’m exiled. When I’m deprived of my pearl, what else can that be considered except lasting sorrow?

'Thow demez nojt bot doel-dystresse, / 'penne sayde pat wY3t; 'why dotz pou so? / For dyne of doel of Iurez Iesse / Ofte mony mon forgos pe mo / Pe 03te better pyseluen blesse, / And Ioue ay God, in wele and wo, / For anger gaynez pe not a cresse. / Who nedez schal pole, be not so pro; / For p03 pou daunce as any do, / Braundysch and bray py brabez breme, / When bou no fyrre may, to ne fro, / l>ou moste abyde pat He schaI deme

You think of nothing except sorrowful distress’, that person said then. ‘Why do you do so? Because of the din of lamentation about lesser sorrows, many people often miss out on what is more important. You should rather think yourself fortunate and always praise God in prosperity and sorrow, since anger will gain you not a jot. Whoever has to suffer must not be so impatient, for even if you dance about as any doe, buck and bray in your bitter agonies, when you can move no further forward or back you must endure what he shall decree

Deme Drygtyn, euer Hym adyte; / Of pe way a fote ne wyl He wrype. / l>y mendez mountez not a myte, / l>a3 pou for sor3e be neuer blype, / Stynt of py strot and fyne to Byte, / And sech Hys blype fuI swefte and swype; / l>y prayer may Hys pyte byte, / Pat mercy schal hyr craftez kype. / Hys comforte may py Iangour lybe, / And py Iurez of IY3tly leme; / For, marre oper madde, morne and rnybe, / Al lys in Hym to dY3t and deme.'

‘Judge God, always accuse him – he won’t diverge one footstep from his path. Your compensation won’t increase the least bit even though you are never happy in your grief. Stop your quarrelling and cease wrangling, and seek his good will swiftly and earnestly. Your prayer can penetrate his compassion so that mercy will demonstrate her powers. His consolation can ease your suffering and easily drive off your sorrows, since – whether you are distressed or rave, or mourn and hide your feelings – it lies entirely with him to decree and judge.

Thenne demed I to pat damyselle: / 'Ne worpe no wrathpc vnto my Lorde, / If rapely I raue, spornande in spelle: / My herte watz al with mysse remorde, / As wallande water gotz out of welle. / I do me ay in Hys myserecorde. / Rebuke me neuer with wordez felle, / l>a3 I forloyne, my dere endorde, / Bot kybez me kyndely your coumforde, / Pytosly penkande vpon bysse: / Of care and me 3e made acorde, / I>at er watz grounde of alle my bIysse

Then I spoke to that young lady: ‘May my Lord not be angry if I talk wildly in haste, stumbling in speech; my heart was all tormented with loss, just as bubbling water gushes from a spring; I’ll submit myself to his mercy at all times. Never rebuke me with harsh words even if I fall out of line, my dear adored one, but graciously offer me your comfort, thinking compassionately of this: that you arranged a settlement between me and sorrow, you who were once the foundation of all my bliss

'My blysse, my bale, 3e han ben bope, / Bot much pe bygger 3et watz my mon; / Fro pou watz wroken fro vch a wope, / I wyste neuer quere my perIe watz gone / Now I hit .se, now lepez my lope. / And quen we departed we wern at on; / God forbede we be now wrope; / We meten so selden by stok oper stone / l>a3 cortaysly 3e carp con, / I am bot mol and manerez mysse; / Bot Crystes mersy and Mary and Joo, / I>ise arn pe grounde of alle my blysse

My bliss, my torment – you’ve been both, but yet my misery was much the greater. From the time that you were rescued from every danger, I had no idea where my pearl had gone. Now I see it, my sorrow eases; and when we separated we were at one: God forbid we should now be angry; we so rarely meet anywhere! Though you speak courteously, I’m just dust and lack good manners. Yet Christ’s mercy, and Mary and John, these are the foundation of all my bliss

'In blysse I se pe blypely blent, / And I a man al mornyf mate. / 3e take reron ful lyttel tente, / l>a3 I hente ofte harmez hate. / Bot now I am here in your presente, / I wolde bysech, wythouten debate, / 3e wolde me say in sobre asente / What lyf 3e Iede erly and late, / For I am fuI fayn pat your astate / Is worpen to worschyp and wele, iwysse; / Of alle my joy pe hY3e gate, / Hit is in grounde of alle my blysse.'

‘I see you joyously immersed in bliss, and I’m a man all miserable and dejected; you take very little notice of that though I often endure burning sorrows. But now that I’m here in your presence, I’d beseech, without contention, that you’d tell me in a spirit of real conciliation what life you lead from morning to night. For certainly I’m very glad that your position has become an honourable and prosperous one. As the main avenue of all my joy, it is at the foundation of all my bliss

'Blysful," quop I, 'may pys be trwe?- / Dysplesez not if I speke errour- / Art pOll pe quene of heuenez blwe, / I>at al pys worlde schal do honour? / We leuen on Marye pat grace of grewe, / Pat ber a barne of vyrgyn flour. / Pe croune fro hyr quo mojt remwe / Bot ho hir passed in sum fauour? / Now, for synglerty 0 hyr dousour, / We calle hyr Fenyx of Arraby, / Pat fereles fle3e of hyr Fasor-· / Lyk to pe quen of cortaysye

Blissful one,’ said I, ‘can this be true? – Don’t be displeased if I speak in error – are you the queen of the blue heavens whom all this world must revere? We believe in Mary from whom grace sprang, who in the flower of her virginity bore a child; who could remove the crown from her unless she surpassed her in some quality? Now for the uniqueness of her sweetness we call her the Phoenix of Arabia that flew flawless from her Creator, just like the queen of courtesy

'Cortayse quen,' penne sayde pat gaye, / Knelande to grounde, folde vp hyr face, / 'Makelez moder and myryest may, / Blessed bygynner of vch a grace! / Penne fOS ho vp and con restay, / And speke me towarde in pat space: / 'Sir, fele here porchasez and fongez pray, / Bot supplantorez none withinne pys place; / Pat emperise al heuenz hatz- / And vrbe and helle-in her bayly; / Of erytage 3et non wyl ho chace, / For ho is quen of cortaysye

‘Courteous queen,’ said that lovely girl then, kneeling to the ground, her face raised, ‘peerless mother and fairest maiden, blessed source of every grace!’ Then she rose up and paused, and spoke to me at that moment: ‘Sir, many here strive for booty and seize it, but there are no usurpers within this place. That empress possesses the whole of heaven and earth and hell in her domain, yet she wishes to drive none from their heritage, for she is queen of courtesy

'The court of pe kyndom of God alyue / Hatz a property inhytself beyng: / Alle pat may perinne aryue / Of alle pe reme is quen ober kyng, / And neuer oper 3et schal depryue, / Bot vchon fayn of operez hafyng, / And wolde her corounez wern worpe po fyue, / If possyble were her mendyng. / Bot my lady of quom Jesu con spryng, / Ho haldez pe empyre ouer vus ful hY3e, / And pat dysplesez non of oure gyng, / For ho is quene of cortaysye.

‘The court of the kingdom of the living God has an inherent property: everyone who gains entry there is queen or king of the whole realm, and yet will never deprive another, but each one is glad of what others possess and would wish their crowns were worth five of them, if improvement of them were possible. But my Lady, from whom Jesus sprang, she holds the empire high over us, and that displeases none of our company, for she is queen of courtesy

'Of courtaysye, as saytz Saynt Poule, / Al arn we membrez of Jesu Kryst: / As heued and arme and legg and naule / Temen to hys body lul trwe and tryste, / Ry3t so is vch a Krysten sawle / A longande lym to pe Mayster of myste. / Penne loke: what hate oper any gawle / Is tached oper tY3ed py lymmez bytwyste? / Py heued hatz nauper greme ne gryste / On arme oper fynger pa3 pou ber bY3e. / So fare we alle wyth luf and lyste / To kyng and quene by cortaysye.

‘Through courtesy, as St Paul says, we are all members of Jesus Christ. Just as head and arm, and leg and navel are attached to one’s body most faithfully and dependably, just so is every Christian soul a limb belonging to the Master of the mystical body. Then consider, what hatred or rancour is attached or fastened between your limbs? Your head has neither anger nor resentment against your arm or finger even if you wear a ring. Just so do we all behave with love and joy towards those who are king and queen by courtesy

'Cortayse,' quop I, 'I leue, / And charyte grete, be yow among; / Bot my speche pat yow ne greue, / .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . / Pyself in heuen ouer hY3 pou heue, / To make pe quen pat watz so 30nge. / What more honour mojte he acheue / Pat hade endured in worlde stronge, / And lyued in penaunce hys lyuez longe / With bodyly bale hym blysse to byye? / What more worschyp mogt he fonge / Pen corounde be kyng by cortayse?

Said I, ‘I believe there is courtesy and great kindness among you, but –let my words not offend you – you raise yourself too high in heaven by representing yourself as a queen, you who were so young. What greater honour could he achieve who had held out resolutely in the world and lived all his life in contrition, to earn heavenly bliss for himself with physical suffering? What higher honour could he obtain than to be crowned king by courtesy?

'That Cortayse is to fre of dede, / 3yf hyt be soth pat pou conez saye. / Pou lyfed not two 3er in oure pede; / Pou cowpez neuer God nauber plese ne pray, / Ne neuer nawper Pater ne Crede- / And quen mad on be fyrst day! / I may not traw, so God me spede, / Pat God wolde wrype so wrange away, / Of countes, damysel, par ma fay, / Wer fayr in heuen to halde asstate, / Oper ellez a lady of lasse aray; / Bot a quene!-hit is to dere a date

That courtesy operates too generously if what you are saying is true. You lived in our land for less than two years; you never knew either how to please God or pray to him, neither the Pater Noster nor the Creed. And made a queen on the first day? I can’t believe, God help me, that God would swerve aside so unjustly! It would be fine, young lady, upon my word, to hold the position of countess in heaven, or else a lady of lesser rank – but a queen? That’s too important a position!

'Per is no date of Hys godnesse, / 'Pen sayde to me pat worpy wY3te, / 'For al is trawpe pat He con dresse, / And He may do nopynk bot rY3t. / As Mathew melez in your messe / In sothfol gospel of God almyjt: / In sample He can ful graybely gesse / And lyknez hit to heuen IY3te. / "My regne," He saytz, "is lyk on hY3t / To a lorde pat hade a uyne, I wate. / Of tyme of 3ere pe terme watz tY3t, / To labor vyne watz dere pe date

There is no limit to his goodness,’ that worthy person said to me then, ‘for everything that he ordains is just and he can do nothing but right. As Matthew says in your Mass in a true gospel about almighty God, in a parable that he very aptly conceives, drawing a parallel to bright heaven: “My realm on high”, he says, “is indeed like a lord who had a vineyard. The due season of the year had arrived; it was high time to work in the vineyard

'''Pat date of 3ere wel knawe pys hyne. / Pe lorde ful erly vp he ros / To hyre werkmen to hys vyne, / And fyndez per summe to hys porpos. / Into acorde pay con declyne / For a pene on a day, and forth pay gotz, / Wrypen and worchen and don gret pyne, / Keruen and caggen and man hit clos. / Aboute vnder pe lorde to marked totz, / And ydel men stande he fyndez perate. / 'Why stande 3e ydel?,' he sayde to pos; / 'Ne knawe 3e of pis day no date?

The labourers well know the season of the year. The lord rose very early to hire workmen into his vineyard, and finds some there for his requirements. They arrived at an agreement on a penny a day, and off they go, toil and labour and make a great effort, cut and bind and make secure. About the third hour the lord goes to the market and finds men standing idle there. ‘Why are you standing idle?’ he said to them. ‘Do you think this day has no end

'Er date of daye hider arn we wonne:' / So watz al samen her answar s03t. / 'We haf standen her syn ros pe sunne, / And no mon byddez vus do rY3t n03t. / ''Gos into my vyne, dotz pat 3e conne:' / So sayde pe lorde, and made hit tojt; / 'What resonabele hyre be na3t be runne / I yow pay in dede and p03te. / 'Pay wente into be vyne and wrojte, / And al day pe lorde pus 3ede his gate, / And nw men to hys vyne he brojte / Welnej wyl day watz passed date.

We’ve been here since before daybreak,’ was the answer received from all of them; ‘We’ve been standing here since the sun rose and no-one asks us to do anything at all.’ ‘Go into my vineyard; do what you’re able to’, so said the lord and settled the deal firmly: ‘Whatever fair wage is run up by nightfall I’ll pay you in full.’ They went into the vineyard and worked, and all day the lord went about like this and brought new men into his vineyard, until the day had nearly come to an end

At pe date of day of euensonge, / On oure byfore pe sonne go doun, / He se3 per ydel men ful stronge / And sade to hem with sobre soun: / 'Wy stonde 3e ydel pise dayez longe?' / pay sayden her hyre watz nawhere boun, / 'Gotz to my vyne, 3emen 30nge, / And wyrkez and dotz pat at 3e moun. / 'Sone pe worlde bycom wel broun / Pe sunne watz doun, and hit wex late. / To take her hyre he mad sumoun; / Pe day watz al apassed date.

“At the time of day of evensong, one hour before the sun would godown, he saw there very strong men idle, and said to them in a serious tone: ‘Why do you stand idle all the long day?’ They said their hire was not arranged anywhere. ‘Go to my vineyard, young fellows, and work and do whatever you can.’ Soon the world became quite dark, the sun had set and it was growing late. He summoned them to take their wages; the day had come to an end

'''The date of pe daye pe lorde con knaw, / Called to pe reue: 'Lede, pay pe meyny; / Gyf hem pe hyre pat I hem owe, / And fyrre, pat non me may reprene, / Set hem alle vpon a rawe / And gyf vchon inlyche a peny. / Bygyn at pe laste pat standez lowe, / Tyl to pe fyrste pat pou atteny.' / And penne pe fyrst bygonne to pleny / And sayden pat pay hade trauayled sore: / 'Pese bot on oure hem con streny; / Vus pynk vus 03e to take more

The lord recognised the time of the day: he called to the reeve, ‘Sir, pay the workers! Give them the wages that I owe them, and further, so that nobody may criticise me, set them all in a line and give a penny to each one alike; begin with the last who stand at the end, until you reach the first.’ And then the first began to complain and said that they had laboured hard. ‘These exerted themselves for only an hour. It seems to us we ought to take more

"'More haf we serued, vus pynk so, / Pat suffred han pe dayez hete, / Penn pyse pat wroyt not hourez two, / And pou dotz hem vus to counterfete. / 'Penne sayde pe lorde to on of po:' / Frende, no waning I wyl pe 3ete; / Take pat is pyn owne, and go. / And I hyred pe for a peny agrete / Quy bygynnez pou now to prete? / Watz not a pene py couenaunt pore? / Fyrre pen couenaunde is n03t to plete; / Wy schalte pou penne ask more?

“‘We’ve deserved more, so it seems to us who’ve endured the heat of the day, than these who didn’t work two hours, and you make them equal to us.’ Then the lord said to one of them: ‘Friend, I don’t wish to give you a reduced amount. Take what is your own, and go. Since I hired you collectively for a penny, why do you now start disputing? Wasn’t your contract there for one penny? There’s no claiming more than the contract. Why should you then ask for more?

"'More, weber louyly is me my gyfte- / To do wyth myn quatso me lykez? / Oper ellez pyn Y3e to lyper is lyfte / For I am goude and non byswykez? / 'Pus schal I," quop Kryste, "hit skyfte: / Pe laste schal be be fyrst pat strykez, / And pe fyrst pe laste, be he neuer so swyft, / For mony ben called, pa3 fewe be mykez./"Pus pore men her part ay pykez, / pa3 pay corn late and lyttel wore, / And pa3 her sweng wyth lyttel atslykez, / Pe merci of God is much pe more

Furthermore, is my giving not lawful to me, to do whatever pleases me with what is my own? Or perhaps your eye is raised towards evil because I am good and cheat no-one?’ I shall arrange it in this way,” said Christ: “The last to come shall be first, and the first the last, however swift he may be; for many are called though few shall be chosen companions.” Thus poor men always pick up their share, even though they came late and were unimportant; and though their toil slips away insignificantly, God’s mercy is so much the more

'More haf I of joye and blysse hereinne, / Of ladyschyp gret and lyuez blom, / Pen alle pe wY3ez in pe worlde myjt wynne / By pe way of rY3t to aske dome. / Wheper welnygh now I con bygynne- / In euentyde into pe vyne I come- / Fyrst of my hyre my Lorde con mynne: / I watz payed anon of al and sum. / 3et oper per werne pat toke more tom, / Pat swange and swat for long 3ore, / Pat 3et of hyre nopynk pay nom, / Paraunter n03t schal to-jcrc more.

I have more joy and happiness here, high status as a lady and life’s perfection, than all the people in the world could win by asking for an assessment in terms of entitlement. Though I began just recently – I entered the vineyard in the evening – my Lord remembered my wages first: I was paid at once in full. Yet there were others who spent longer, who toiled and sweated over a long period, who so far have received no wages, and perhaps will receive nothing for years to come

Then more I meled and sayde apert: / 'Me pynk py tale vnresounable; / Goddez rY3t is redy and euerrnore rert, / Oper holy wryt is bot a fable. / In sauter is sayd a verce ouerte / Pat spekez a poynt determynable: / "Pou quytez vchon as hys desserte, / POll hY3e Kyng ay perterrnynable. / "Now he pat stod pe long day stable, / And pou to payment corn hym byfore, / Penne pe lasse in werke to take more able, / And euer pc lenger pe lasse pe more

Then I spoke further and said openly: ‘Your story seems to me irrational. God’s justice is ready at hand and established for evermore, or else Holy Writ is merely a fable. It is said in the Psalter in an explicit verse that addresses a decisive point: “Thou rewardest each according to his desert, thou High King, ever powerful.” Now if you came to payment before the one who remained steadfast the whole day, then the less the work the more entitled to take, and always the longer the less, the more

'Of more and lasse in Godez ryche, / 'Pat gentyl sayde, 'Iys no joparde, / For per is vch mon payed inlyche, / Wheper Iyttel oper much be hys rewarde. / For pe gentyl Cheuentayn is no chyche, / Quepersoeuer He dele-s-nesch oper harde: / He lauez Hys gyftez as water of dyche, / Oper gotez of golf pat neuer charde. / Hys fraunchyse is large: pat euer dard / To Hym pat matz in synne rescoghe- / No blysse betz fro hem reparde, / For pe grace of God is gret inoghe

‘In God’s kingdom’, that gracious one said, ‘there’s no question of “more” and “less”, for there each person is paid equally, whether his standing be small or great; for the gracious Commander is no miser; whether he metes out what is pleasant or what is hard, he pours out his gifts as water from a dike or streams from the depths that have never stopped flowing. His liberality is bountiful towards those who always trembled before him who rescues sinners. No bliss will be withheld from them, for God’s grace is great indeed

Bot now pou motez, me for to mate, / Pat I my peny haf wrang tan here; / Pou sayz pat I pat com to late / Am not worpy so gret fere. / here wystez pou euer any bourne abate / Euer so holy in hys prayere / Pat he ne forfeted by sumkyn gate / Pe mede sumtyme of heuenez clere? / And ay pe ofter pe alder pay were, / Pay laften rY3t and wrojten woghe. / Mercy and grace moste hem pen stere, / For pe grace of God is gret innoye

But now you argue, in order to defeat me, that I’ve wrongly taken my penny here. You say that I, who arrived too late, am not worthy of such great reward. Where did you ever know anyone who always remained so holy in his prayers who didn’t in some way forfeit the reward of bright heaven at some time? And the older they were, all the more often did they turn away from right and do wrong. Mercy and grace then had to take charge of them, for God’s grace is great indeed

'Bot innoghe of grace hatz innocent: / As sone as pay arn borne, by lyne / In pe water of babtem pay dyssente. / Pen arne pay boroyt into pe vyne. / Anon pe day with derk endente / Pe niY3t of deth dotz to enclyne. / Pat wroyt neuer wrang er penne pay wente / Pe gentyle Lorde benne payez Hys hyne. / Pay dyden Hys heste; pay wern pereine; / Why schulde He not her labour alow? / 3ys, and pay hym at pe fyrst fyne? / For be grace of God is gret innoghe

But the innocent have grace in plenty. As soon as they are born, by right of their inheritance they descend into the water of baptism; then are they brought into the vineyard. Soon the night of death causes the day, flecked with darkness, to sink down. Then the gracious Lord pays his servants who never did wrong before they departed. They obeyed his commandment; they were there; why should he not recognise their labour, yes indeed, and pay them at the first settlement? For God’s grace is great indeed

'In03e is knawen pat mankyn grete / Fyrste watz wroyt to blyssc parfyt. / Oure forme fader hit con forfete / l>ure an apple pat he vpon con byte; / Al wer we dampned for pat mete / To dY3e in doel out of delyt / And sypen wende to helle hete, / I>erinne to won withoute respyt. / Bot beron corn a bote astyt; / Ryche blod ran on rode so roghe, / And wynne water; pen, at pat plyt, / Pe grace of God wex gret innoghe

‘It’s very well known that noble mankind was first created for perfect bliss; our first father forfeited it through an apple that he bit upon. On account of that food we were all damned to die in misery, separated from joy, and then go to the heat of hell, to live there without reprieve. But for that there came a remedy soon enough: precious blood ran on the rugged cross, and blessed water; then at that evil time God’s grace became great indeed.

Innoghe per wax out of pat welle, / Blod and water of brode wounde. / Pe blod vus bojt fro bale of helle, / And delyuered vus of pe deth secounde; / Pe water is baptem, pe sope to telle, / Pat fo13ed pe glayuc so grymly grounde, / Pat waschez away pe gyltez felle / Pat Adam wyth inne deth vus drounde. / Now is per n03t in pe worlde rounde / Bytwene vus and blysse bot pat He withdroj, / And pat is restored in sely stounde; / And pe grace of God is gret innogh

There flowed plentifully out of that spring blood and water from a wide wound; the blood bought us from hell’s torment and delivered us from the second death. Truly the water that followed the spear sharpened so cruelly is baptism, which washes away the deadly sins with which Adam drowned us in death. Now there is nothing in the round world between us and bliss except that which God withdrew, and that is restored in a blessed hour, and God’s grace is great indeed

'Grace innogh pe mon may haue / Pat synnez penne new, 3if hym repente, / Bot with sor3 and syt he mot hit craue, / And byde pe payne perto is bent. / Bot Resoun, of rY3t pat con not raue, / Sauez euermore pe innossent; / Hit is a dom pat neuer God gaue / Pat euer pe gyltlez schulde be schente. / Pe gyltyf may contryssyoun hente / And be pur3 mercy to grace prY3t; / Bot he to gyle pat neuer glente / As inoscente is saf and rY3te

Anyone who sins anew may have sufficient grace if he is repentant, but he must beg for it with contrition and remorse, and bear the punishment that is assigned to it. But reason, which cannot stray from what is just, always saves the innocent. That the sinless should ever be condemned is a judgement that God never gave. The sinful may embrace contrition and through mercy be thrust to grace, but anyone who never turned to evil is saved and justified as an innocent

'RY3t pus I knaw wel in pis cas / Two men to saue is God-by skylle: / Pe rY3twys man schal se Hys face, / Pe harmlez hapel schal corn Hym tylle. / Pe sau ter hyt satz pus in a pace: / "Lorde, quo schal klymbe Py hY3 hylle, / Oper rest withinne Py holy place?" / Hymself to onsware he is not dylle: / "Hondelyngez harme pat dyt not ille, / Pat is of hert hope clene and IY3t, / Per schal hys step stable stylle": / Pe innosent is ay saf by rY3t

Just so, I know well in this circumstance God will in justice save two kinds of men: the righteous man will see his face, the sinless man will come to him. In a passage the Psalter says as follows: “Lord, who shall climb thy high hill, or rest within thy holy place?” He himself is not slow to answer: “He who did no evil wrongfully with his hands, who is both clean and pure of heart, shall set his foot to rest there.” The innocent is always saved as of right

'The rY3twys man also, sertayn, / Aproche he schal pat proper pyle- / Pat takez not her lyf in vayne / Ne glauerez her niejbor wyth no gyle- / Of pys rY3twys sayz SaIamon playn, / Hym Koyntyse oure con aquyle; / By wayez fuI strejt He con hym strayn, / And scheued hym pe rengne of God awhyle, / As quo says, "Lo, 30n louely yle: / Pou may hit wynne if pou be wY3te. / "Bot hardyly, withoute peryIe, / Pe innosent is ay saue by rY3te.

Certainly the righteous will also approach that special citadel – those who do not waste their life on foolish things nor deceive their neighbour with any trickery. Concerning this righteous person, Solomon says plainly how graciously the Lord welcomed him; he conducted him along straight paths and showed him the kingdom of God for a time, as if to say: “Behold, yonder lovely region! You may reach it provided you are stalwart.” But assuredly, and without any risk, the innocent is always saved as of right

Anende rY3twys men 3et saytz a gome, / Dauid, in sauter, if euer 3e se3 hit: / "Lorde, Py seruaunt draj neuer to dome, / For non lyuyande to Pe is justyfyet." / Forby to corte quen pou schal corn: / Per alle oure causez schal be cryed, / Alegge be rY3t, pou may be innome, / By pys ilke spech I haue asspyed. / Bot He on rode pat blody dyed, / Delfully pur3 hondez prY3t, / Gyue pe to passe, when pou arte tryed, / By innocens and not by rY3te

‘Also referring to the righteous, a certain man, David, says in the Psalter, if you ever saw it: “Lord, never bring your servant to judgement, for no-one living is justified before you.” Therefore, when you are to come to the court where all our cases shall be tried, if you plead legal entitlement you maybe caught out by this very statement that I have noted. But may he who died bloodily on the cross, grievously pierced through the hands, grant you to pass free when you are tried, by innocence and not as of right

'Ryytwysly quo con rede, / He loke on bok and be awayed / How Jesus Hym welke in arepede, / And burnez her barnez vnto Hym brayde. / For happe and hele pat fro Hym 3ede / To touch her chylder pay fayr Hym prayed. / His dessypelez with blame "Let be!" hym bede / And wyth her resounez ful fele restayed. / Jesus penne hem swetely sayde: / "Do way, let chylder vnto Me tY3t; / To suche is heuenryche arayed" / :Pe innocent is ay saf by rY3t

Whoever can read rightly should look in the Bible and be informed of how Jesus walked among the people of olden times and folk brought out their children to him. Because of blessings and healing that flowed from him they begged him respectfully to touch their children. His disciples with rebuke ordered them to “leave off!”, and deterred very many with their words. Jesus then said to them gently: “Let be! Let children come to me. Heaven is appointed for such as them.” The innocent is always saved as of right

'RY3t con calle to Hym Hys mylde, / And sayde Hys ryche no WY3 mY3t wynne / Bot he corn pyder rY3t as a chylde, / Oper ellez neuermore corn perinne. / Harmlez, trwe, and vndefylde, / Withouten mote oper mascle of sulpande synne: / Quen such per cnoken on pe byIde, / Tyt schaI hem men pe 3ate vnpynne. / Per is pe bIys pat con not blynne / Pat pe jueIer sojte pur3 perre pres, / And soIde alle hys goud, bope woIen and lynne, / To bye hym a perle watz mascellez.

[‘Jesus called his gentle disciples to him and said no-one could reach his kingdom unless he came to it just as a child; otherwise he would never come in there. The sinless, the faithful and the unsullied, without stain or flaw of polluting sin: when such knock on the building, the gate will quickly be unbolted for them. There is the joy that cannot end, which the jeweller sought through precious jewels, and sold all his goods, both woollen and linen, to buy himself a pearl that was flawless

'This makellez perle pat b03t is dere, / Pe joueler gef fore alle hys god, / Is lyke pe reme of heuenesse clere- / So sayde pe Fader of foIde and flode- / For hit is wemlez, clene, and cIere, / And endeIez rounde, and blype of mode / And commune to alle pat rY3twys were. / Lo, euen inmyddez my breste hit stode: / My Lorde pe Lombe, pat schede Hys blode, / He PY3t hit pere in token of pes. / I rede pe forsake pe worlde wode / And porchace py perle maskelles.'

This peerless pearl that is dearly bought, for which the jeweller gave all his wealth, is like the bright realm of heaven, as the Father of land and water said; for it is flawless, pure and bright, and endlessly round, and radiant in appearance, and belonging in common to all who were righteous. Look it stood just at the centre of my breast. My Lord, the Lamb, who shed his blood, he placed it there as a token of reconciliation. I advise you to renounce the senseless world and purchase your flawless pearl

'0 maskelez perle in perlez pure, / Pat berez,' quop I, 'be perle of prys, / Quo formed be py fayre fygure? / Pat wrojt py wede he watz ful wys; / py beaute corn neuer of nature- / Pymalyon paynted neuer py vys, / Ne Arystotel nawper by hys lettrure / Of carped pe kynde pese propertez; / py colour passez pe flour-de-lys, / pyn angel-hauyng so clene cortez. / Breue me, brygt, quat kyn offys / Berez pe perle so maskellez?

‘O flawless Pearl in pure pearls,’ I said, ‘you who bear the pearl of price; who fashioned your lovely form? The one who made your dress, he was very skilful. Your beauty never came from nature: Pygmalion never painted your face, nor did Aristotle speak of the nature of these qualities in his writings. Your white complexion surpasses the lily, your angelic bearing so graciously refined. Tell me, beautiful girl, what sort of position does the flawless Pearl hold?

'My makelez Lambe pat al may bete, / 'Quob scho, 'my dere Destyne, / Me ches to Hys make, alpa3 vnmete / Sumtyme semed pat assemble. / When I wente fro yor worlde wete / He calde me to Hys bonerte: / "Cum hyder to Me, My lemman swete, / For mote ne spot is non in pe. / "He gef me mY3t and als bewte; / In Hys blod He wesch my wede on dese, / And coronde clene in vergynte, / And PY3t me in perlez maskellez

My peerless Lamb, who can amend all things,’ she said, ‘my dear Destiny, chose me as his bride, although that union would once have seemed unfitting. When I left your rainy world, he called me to his gracious presence: “Come hither to me, my sweet love, for there is not a stain or spot in thee!” He gave me both strength and beauty; on the throne he washed my clothes in his blood and crowned me pure in virginity, and arrayed me in flawless pearls

'Why, maskellez bryd pat bryyt con flambe, / Pat reiatez hatz so ryche and ryf, / /Quat kyn pyng may be pat Lambe / Pat pe wolde wedde vnto Hys vyf? / Ouer alle oper so hY3' pou clambe / To lede with Hym so ladyIy lyf. / So mony a comly onvunder cambe / For Kryst han lyued in much stryf, / And pou con alle po dere outdryf, / And fro pat maryag al oper depres, / Al only thyself so stout and styf, / A makelez may and maskellez.'

Why! flawless bride, who shines so brightly, who has royal honours so rich and abundant – what sort of being may that Lamb be who would marry you as his wife? You’ve climbed so high over all others to lead such a ladylike life with him! So many beautiful women have lived in great hardship for Christ, and you managed to drive out all those dear ones, and to dislodge all others from that marriage! All on your own, so brave and firm, a peerless and flawless maiden

'Maskelles,' quob pat myry quene, / 'Vnblemyst I am, wythouten blot, / And pat may I with mensk menteene, / Bot "makelez quene" penne sade I not. / Pe Lambes vyuez in blysse we bene, / A hondred and forty powsandc flot, / As in pe Apocalyppez hit is sene: / Sant John hem sY3 al in a knot. / On pe hyl of Syon, pat semly clot, / :Pe apostel hem segh in gostly drem, / Arayed to pe weddyng in pat hyl-coppe, / Pe owe cyte 0 Jerusalem.

Flawless,’ that beautiful queen said, ‘unblemished I am, without stain, and that I may affirm with honour, but I didn’t say “peerless queen”. Weare a company of 140,000, the wives of the Lamb in heaven, as is seen in Revelation: St John saw them all in a throng on the hill of Zion, that stately mount. The apostle saw them in a spiritual vision, arrayed for the wedding on that hilltop, the new city of Jerusalem

'Of Jerusalem I in speche speche. / If pou wyl knaw what kyn He be- / My Lombe, my Lorde, my dere Juelle, / My Joy, my Blys, my Lemman fre- / Pe profete Ysaye ofHym con melle / Pitously of Hys debonerte: / "Pat gloryous Gyltlez pat mon con quelle / Withouten any sake of felonye, / As a schep to pe slayt per lad watz He / And, as lombe pat clypper in hande nem, / So closed He Hys mouth fro vch query, / Quen Juez Hym jugged in Jerusalem."

‘I’m speaking of Jerusalem. If you wish to know of what nature he is, my Lamb, my Lord, my dear jewel, my joy, my bliss, my noble lover the prophet Isaiah spoke compassionately of his graciousness: “That glorious sinless one, who was put to death innocent of any crime, was led there as a sheep to the slaughter, and as a lamb taken in hand by the shearer, he closed his mouth from every complaint when Jews put him on trial in Jerusalem

'In Jerusalem watz my Lemman slayn / And rent on rode with boyez bolde, / Al oure balez to bere ful bayn / He toke on Hymself oure carez colde; / With boffetez watz Hys face flayn / Pat watz < so fayr on to byhoIde. / For synne He set HymseIf invayn, / Pat neuer hade non Hymself to woIde; / For vus He lette Hym BY3e and foIde, / And brede vpon a bostwys hem; / As meke as lomp pat no playnt tolde / For vus He swalt in Jerusalem.

My beloved was slain in Jerusalem, and torn on the cross by fierce ruffians; fully willing to bear all our ills, he took upon himself our bitter sorrows. His face that was so fair to look upon was torn with blows. He set himself at no value for the sake of our sin, he who never had any himself; for our sake he permitted himself to be flayed and bent and stretched on a rugged beam; as meek as a lamb who uttered no complaint, for us he died in Jerusalem

'In Jerusalem, Jordan, and Galalye, / Peras baptysed pe goude Saynt Jon, / His wordez acorded to Ysaye. / When Jesus con to hym warde gon, / He sayde of Hym pys professye: / "Lo, Godez Lombe as trwe as ston, / Pat dotz away pe synnez dryge / Pat alle pys worlde hatz wrojt vpon. / Hymself ne wrojt neuer 3et non, / Wheper on Hymself He con al clem. / Hus generacyoun quo recen con, / Pat dY3ed for vus in Jerusalem?"

‘In Jerusalem, Jordan and Galilee where the good St John baptised, his words were in accord with Isaiah, when Jesus came towards him. He spoke this prophesy about him: “Lo! the Lamb of God, as firm as a rock, who takes away the grave sins that all this world has committed.” He himself never committed any, yet he took them all upon himself. Who can determine the divine origin of the one who died for us in Jerusalem?

'In Jerusalem pus my Lemman swete / Twycz for lombe watz taken pare, / By trw recorde of ayper prophete, / For mode so meke and al Hys fare. / Pe bryde tyme is perto ful mete, / In Apokalypez wry ten ful 3are: / Inmydez pe trone, pere sayntez sete, / I>e apostel John Hym sa3 as bare, / Lesande pe boke with leuez sware / Pere seuen syngnettez wern sette in seme. / And at pat sY3t vche douth con dare, / In helle, in erpe, and Jerusalem

Thus in Jerusalem my sweet beloved was twice recognised as a lamb there by the true testimony of both prophets, because of his disposition so meek and all his actions. The third occasion, written quite plainly in Revelation, is entirely in accord with those: in the middle of the throne where saints sat, John the apostle saw him quite clearly opening the book with square leaves, in which seven seals were attached to the seam and at that sight every host trembled, in hell, on earth and in Jerusalem

'Thys Jerusalem Lombe hade neuer pechche / Of oper huee bot quyt jolyf / Pat mot ne masklle m03t on streche, / For wolle quyte so ronk and ryf. / Forpy vche saule pat hade neuer teche / Is to pat Lombe a worthyly wyf. / And pa3 vch day a store He feche, / Among vus commez nouper strot ne stryf, / Bot vchon enle we wolde were fyf- / Pe mo pe myryer, so God me blesse! / In compayny gret our luf con pryf, / In honour more and neuer pe lesse

This Jerusalem Lamb never had a patch of any other colour except lovely white, onto which no stain nor spot might spread because of the white wool so luxuriant and abundant. Therefore every soul that never had a blemish is a worthy wife to that Lamb, and although he fetches a large group every day, neither quarrelling nor strife comes among us, but we wish every single one were five – the more the merrier, so bless me God! Our love thrives in a large company, greater in honour and never the less

'Lasse of blysse may non vus bring / Pat beren pys perle vpon oure bereste, / For pay of mote coupe neuer mynge / Of spotlez perlez pat beren pe creste. / Alpa3 oure corses in clottez clynge, / And 3e remen for raube wythouten reste, / We pUf30utly hauen cnawyng; / Of on dethe ful oure hope is drest. / Pe Lombe vus gladez, oure care is kest; / He myrbez vus alle at vch a mes. / Vchonez blysse is breme and beste, / And neuer onez honour 3et neuer pe les

No-one may bring a lessening of bliss to us who bear this pearl upon our breast, for they who bear the crown of spotless pearls could never concern themselves with dispute. Although our corpses decay in the earth, and you weep for sorrow without ceasing, we have understanding in all things. Our hope is fully derived from one death: the Lamb brings us joy, our sorrow is cast out, he delights us all at every meal. Everyone’s bliss is intense and supreme, and no-one’s honour is ever the less

'Lest lcs pou leue my talle farande, / In Appocalyppece is wry ten in wro: / "I seghe," says John, "pe Loumbe Hym stande / On pe mount of Syon fuI pryuen and pro, / And wyth Hym maydennez an hundrepe powsande, / And fowre and forty bowsande mo / On alle her forhedez wry ten I fande / Pe Lombez nome, Hys Faderez also / A hue fro heuen ] herde poo, / Lyk ftodez fele laden runnen on resse; / And as punder prowez in torrez blo- / Pat lote, I leue, watz neuer pe les

Lest you should believe my fine account false, there is written in a passage in Revelation: “I saw”, says John, “the Lamb standing on the amount of Zion, very lovely and noble, and with him 144,000 virgins. On all their foreheads I found written the name of the Lamb and also of his Father. Then I heard an outcry from heaven, like the voice of many waters rushing in a torrent, and as thunder crashes in dark hills; I believe that sound was in no way less

'''Naupeles, pa3 hit schowted scharpe, / And ledden loude alpa3 hit were, / A note ful nwe I herde hem warpe, / To lysten pat watz ful lufty dere. / As harporez harpen in her harpe, / Pat nwe songe pay songen ful cler, / In sounande notez a gentyl carpe; / Ful fayre pe modez pay fonge in fere. / RY3t byfore Godez chayere / And pe fowre bestez pat Hym obes / And pe aldermen so sadde of chere, / Her songe pay songen, neuer pe les.

Nevertheless, though there was a sharp cry, and although there was a loud voice, I heard them utter an entirely new note that was most lovely to listen to. As harpers harp on their harp, they sang that new song very clearly, a delightful song in sonorous notes; they brought together the melodies most beautifully. Right in front of God’s throne and the four beasts that do him homage, and the elders so grave of countenance, they sang their song without restraint

'''Nowpelese non watz neuer so quoynt, / For alle pe craftez pat euer pay knewe, / Pat of pat songe mY3t synge a poynt, / Bot pat meyny pe Lombe pat swe; / For pay arn boyt, fro pe vrpe aloynte, / As newe fryt to God ful due, / And to pe gentyl Lombe hit arn anjoynt, 895 / As lyk to Hymself of lote and hwe. / For neuer lesyng ne tale vntrwe / Ne towched her tonge for no dysstresse, / Pat moteles meyny may neuer remwe / Fro pat maskeIez mayster, neuer pe les

Nonetheless, no-one was ever skilled enough, for all the arts that they ever knew, to be able to sing a phrase of that song except the company that follow the Lamb; for they are purchased from the distant earth, as new fruit fully due to God, and they are united to the noble Lamb, resembling him in appearance and colour. For never did lie or false word ever touch their tongue, whatever the constraint. That flawless company may never be parted from that spotless master in any circumstances

'Neuer phe les let be my phone, / 'Quop I, 'my perle pa3 I appose; / I sehulde not tempte py wyt so wlonc, / To Krystez chambre pat art ichose. / I am bot mokke and muI among, / And pou so ryche a reken rose, / And bydez here by pys blysful bone / Per lyuez lyste may neuer lose. / Now, hynde, pat sympelnesse eonez enclose, / I wolde pe aske a pynge expresse, / And pa3 I be bustwys as a bose, / Let my bone vayl neuerpelese

Let my gratitude be never the less’, said I, ‘though I question my Pearl. I should not challenge your excellent wisdom, you who are chosen for Christ’s chamber. I’m just a mix of dung and dust, and you’re such a gloriously fresh rose, and you remain here by this lovely river bank where the joy of life may never be lost. Now dear one, you who embody innocence, I want to ask a particular favour, and though I’m clumsy as a clod, let my request be successful nevertheless

'Neuerpelese, cler, I yow byealle, / If 3e con se hyt be to done; / As pou art gloryous withouten galle, / Withnay pou neuer my ruful bone. / Haf 3e no wonez in castel-walle, / Ne maner per 3e may mete and won? / Pou tellez me of Jerusalem pe ryche ryalle, / Per Dauid dere watz dY3t on trone, / Bot by pyse holtez hit con not hone, / Bot in Judee hit is, pat noble note. / As 3e ar maskelez vnder mone, / Your wonez schulde be wythouten mote.

Nevertheless I ask you plainly, if you can see it can be done: as you are glorious and without impurity, do not refuse my heartfelt request. Have you no buildings within a castle wall, nor a manor-house where you can meet and live? You tell me of Jerusalem, the royal city where theworthy David was enthroned, but it cannot be situated by these woods; that noble place is in Judea. As you are spotless in every respect, your dwellings must be without blemish

I>ys motelez meyny pou conez of mele- / Of pousandez prY3t so gret a route- / A gret cete, for 3e arn fele, / Yow byhod haue, withouten doute. / So cumly a pakke of joly juele / Wer euel don schulde IY3 reroute, / And by pyse bonkez per I con gele / I se no bygyng nawhere aboute. / I trowe alone 3e lenge and loute / To loke on pe glory of pys gracious gote. / If pou hatz oper bygyngez stoute, / Now tech me to pat myry mote.

[‘You have spoken of this spotless company, so great a crowd in a throng of thousands; you must undoubtedly have a great city, for there are many of you. Such a lovely pack of beautiful jewels would be poorly treated if they had to lie in the open, and I see no buildings anywhere around by these river banks where I’m strolling. I suppose you linger and walk alone to observe the splendour of this glorious river. If you have sturdy buildings elsewhere, direct me now to that fair city

That mote pou menez in Judy londe, / pat specyal spyee pen to me spakk, / 'pat is pe cyte pat pe Lombe con fonde / To soffer inne sor for manez sake, / pe olde Jerusalem to vnderstonde, / For pere pe olde gulte watz don to slake. / Bot pe nwe, pat IY3t of Godez sonde, / pe apostel in Apoealyppce in theme con take. / Pe Lompe per withouten spottez blake / Hatz feryed pyder Hys fayre flote; / And as Hys flok is withouten flake, / So is Hys mote withouten moote

That city you are referring to in the land of Judea,’ that precious beloved said to me then, ‘that is the city that the Lamb sought out in which to suffer terribly for mankind’s sake – that is to say the old Jerusalem, for there the old sin was brought to an end. But it was the new one that descended, sent by God, that the apostle took as his subject in Revelation. The Lamb without spots of black has carried his fair company to that place, and just as his flock is without fleck, so is his city without blemish

Of motez two to carpe clene, / And Jerusalem hY3t bope nawpeles- / Pat nys to yow no more to mene / Bot "cete of God" oper "sY3t of pes"- / In pat on oure pes watz mad at ene; / With payne to suffer pe Lombe 'hit chese; / In pat oper is n03t bot pes to glene / pat ay sehal laste withouten reles. / Pat is pe bor3 pat we to pres / Fro pat oure fleseh be layd to rote, / per glory and blysse. schal euer eneres / To pe meyny pat is withouten mote.

‘To speak clearly of two cities – both nevertheless called Jerusalem, which signifies to you nothing other than “city of God” or “vision of peace” – in one our peace was settled for all time: the Lamb chose it to suffer in pain; in the other there is nothing but peace to be gleaned that will last for ever without ceasing. That is the city to which we press forward from the time that our flesh is laid to rot, where glory and joy will evermore increase for the company that is without blemish.

'Motelez may so meke and mylde / 'Pen sayde I to pat lufly flor, / 'Bryng me to pat bygly bylde / And let me se py blysful bor. / 'Pat schene sayde: 'Pat God wyl schylde; / Pou may not enter withinne Hys tor; / Bot of pe Lombe I haue pe aquylde / For a sY3t perof pur3 gret fauor. / V twyth to se pat clene cloystor / POll may, bot inwyth not a fote; / To strech in pe strete pou hatz no vygour, / Bot pou wer clene, withouten mote.

Spotless maiden, so meek and gentle,’ I said then to that lovely flower, ‘bring me to that stately building and let me see your delightful dwelling!’ That beautiful girl said: ‘God will forbid that. You may not enter inside his stronghold, but I have obtained permission from the Lamb as a great favour for you to have a view of it. You may see that shining enclosure from outside, but not a foot from within; you are notable to pass through the street unless you are pure without blemish

'If I pis mote pe schal vnhyde, / Bow vp towarde pys bornez heued, / And I anendez pe on pis syde / Schal sve, tyl pou to a hil be veued. / 'Pen wolde I no lenger byde, / Bot lurked by launcez so lufly leued, / Tyl on a hyl pat I asspyed / And blusched on pe burghe, as I forth dreued, / BY30nde pe brok, fro me warde keued, / Pat schyrrer pen sunne with schaftez schon. / In pe Apokalypce is pe fasoun preued, / As deuysez hit be apostel John

If I am to reveal this city to you, walk up towards the head of this river, and I shall follow opposite you on this side until you have arrived at a hill.’ Then I wished to wait no longer, but picked my steps past branches with such lovely leaves, until from a hill I spotted the city and, as I made my way forward, gazed at it where it was set down beyond the river at a distance from me, shining with beams brighter than the sun. Its form is attested in Revelation, as John the apostle describes it

As John pe apostel hit SY3 with sY3 t, / I sY3e pat cyty of gret renoun, / J erusalern so nwe and ryally dY3t, / As hit watz IY3t fro pe heuen adoun. / Pe bor3 watz al of brende golde bryjt, / As glemande glas burnist broun, / With gentyl gemmez anvnder PY3t, / With bantelez twelue on basyng boun, / Pe foundementez twelue of riche tenoun; / Vch tabelment watz a serlypez ston, / As derely deuysez pis ilk toun / In Apocalyppez pe apostel John.

Just as John the apostle saw it with his own eyes, so I saw that city of great renown, Jerusalem, so new and wonderfully built, as it was set down from heaven. The city was entirely of shining refined gold, polished bright as gleaming glass, with fine gems placed underneath, with twelve coursings set at the base, the twelve foundations of splendid construction; each tier was an individual precious stone, as the apostle John admirably describes this city in Revelation

As John pise stonez in writ con nemme, / I knew pe name after his tale. / Jasper hY3t pe fyrst gemme / Pat I on pe fyrst basse con wale- / He glente grene in pe lowest hemme. / Saffer helde pe secounde stale; / Pe calsydoyne benne withouten wemme / In pe pryd table con purly pale; / Pe emerade pe furpe so grene of scale; / Pe sardonyse be fyfpe ston; / Pe sexte pe rybe. He con hit wale / In pe Apocalyppce, pe apostel John.

As John identified these stones in Holy Writ, I knew each name according to his account. The first gem that I picked out on the first course was called jasper; it shone green in the lowest border. Sapphire occupied the second tier; the flawless chalcedony next showed pure and pale in the third level; the emerald the fourth, its surface so green; the sardonyx the fifth stone; the sixth the ruby; John the apostle picked it out in Revelation

3et joyned John pe crysolyt, / Pe seuenpe gemme in fundament; / Pe a3tpe pe beryl cler and quyt; / Pe topasye twynne-hew pe nente endent; / Pe crysopase pe tenpe is tY3t; / Pe jacynght pe enleuenpe gent; / pe twelfpe, pe tryeste in vch a plyt, / pe amatyst purpre with ynde blente. / Pe wal abof pe bantels bent / o jasporye, as glas pat glysnande schon. / I knew hit by his deuysement / In pe Apocalyppez, pe apostel John

Moreover, John added the chrysolite, the seventh gem in the foundation; the eighth the beryl, clear and transparent, the two-coloured topaz set in as the ninth; the chryoprase is fixed as the tenth, the jacynth the elegant eleventh, the twelfth, the most excellent in every difficulty, the amethyst, purple blended with blue. The wall set above the coursings was of jasper that shone glistening as glass. I recognised it by his description in Revelation, the apostle John

As John deuysed, 3et sa3 1 pare / pise twelue degres wern brode and stayre; / Pe cyte stod abof ful sware / As longe as brode as hY3e ful fayre. / Pe stretez of golde as glasse al bare, / Pe wal of jasper pat glent as glayre. / Pe wonez withinne enurned ware / Wyth alle kynnez perre pat moyt repayre. / Penne helde vch sware of pis man ayre / Twelue forlonge space, er euer hit fon, / Of he3t, of brede, of lenpe to cayre, / For meten hit sY3 pe apostel John

As John described, I also saw these twelve tiers there were broad and steep. The city stood above precisely square, exactly as long as it was broad as it was high, the streets of gold as clear as glass, the wall of jasper that shone like albumen. The dwellings within were adorned with all kinds of jewellery that might be assembled. Each side of the manor-house occupied a distance of twelve furlongs end to end, stretching out in height, in breadth and in length, for the apostle John saw it measured

As John hym wrytez 3et more I sY3e: / Veh pane of pat place had pre 3atez, / So twelue in poursent I con asspye, / Pe portalez pyked of rych platez, / And vch 3ate of a margyrye, / A parfyt perle pat neuer fatez. / Vchon in scrypture a name con pi ye / Of Israel barnez, folewande her datez, / Pat is to say, as her byrp-whatez; / Pe aldest ay fyrst peron watz done. / Such IY3t per lemed in alle pe stratez / Hem nedde nawper sunne ne mone

Just as John writes, I saw still more: each side of that city had three gates, so I saw twelve in the perimeter, the gateways embellished with rich metal plates and each gate made of a margarite, a perfect pearl that never fades. Each one bore in writing a name of the children of Israel, in order of their dates, that is to say, according to the chances of their birth: the eldest was placed first. Such light gleamed in all the streets that they needed neither sun nor moon

Of sunne ne mone had pay no nede; / Pe Self God watz her lombe-lygt, / Pe Lombe her lantyrne, withouten drede; / PUf3 H ym blysned pe bor3 al bryjt. / pur3 w03e and won my lokyng 3ede; / For sotyle cler noyt lette no sY3t. / Pe hyje trone per mojt 3e hede / With alle pe apparaylmente vmbepyjte, / As John peappostel in termez tY3te. / Pe hY3e Godez Self hit set vpone. / A reuer of pe trone per ran outryjte / Watz bryjter pen bope pe sunne and mone

They had no need of sun nor moon: God himself was their lamp-light, the Lamb their lantern, without a doubt; because of him the city shone very brightly. My gaze passed through wall and building; because of the transparent clarity nothing obstructed the light. There you could observe the high throne with all the accoutrements arrayed around it, as the apostle John set in writing; the high God himself was seated upon it. Directly out of the throne there ran a river that was brighter than both the sun and moon

Sunne ne mone schon neuer so swete / As pat foysoun flode out of pat Het; / Swype hit swange pur3 vch a street / Withouten fylpe oper galle oper glet. / Kyrk perinne watz non 3ete, / Chapel ne temple pat euer watz set; / Pe Almyyty watz her mynster mete, / Pe Lombe pe sakerfyse per to refet. / Pe 3atez stoken watz neuer 3et, / Bot euermore vpen at vche alone; / Per en trez non to take reset / Pat berez any spot anvnder mone

Neither sun nor moon ever shone as delightfully as that copious river from that hall. Swiftly it rushed through every street without dirt, scum or slime. There was no church provided there, no chapel nor temple was ever built; the Almighty was their proper minster, the Lamb the sacrifice there as nourishment. The gates were never once closed, but always open at every road. Nobody who bears any spot at all enters there to take shelter

The mone may perof acroche no mY3te; / To spotty ho is, of body to grym, / And also per ne is neuer nY3t. / What schulde pe mone per compas clym / And to euen wyth pat worbly IY3t / Pat schynez vpon pe brokez brym? / Pe planetez arn in to pouer a plY3t, / And pe self sunne fuI fer to dym. / Aboute pat water arn tres fuI schym, / Pat twelue frytez of Iyf con bere fuI sone; / Twelue sypez on 3er pay beren ful frym, / And renowlez nwe in vche a mone

The moon can draw no power from there – she is too spotty, too ugly in appearance, and also it is never night there. Why should the moon climb in her orbit there and compete with that glorious light that shines upon the river’s edge? The condition of the planets is too feeble, and the sun itself far too dim. Around that river are the brightest trees that readily bear twelve fruits of life. Twelve times a year they bear very luxuriantly, and renew themselves afresh every month

Anvnder mone so gret merwayle / No fleschly hert ne mY3t endeure / As quen I blusched vpon pat baly, / So ferly perof watz pe fasure. / I stod as stylle as dased quayle / For ferly of pat frech fygure, / Pat felde I nawper reste ne trauayle, / So watz I rauyste wyth gIymme pure. / For I dar say with conciens sure, / Hade bodyly burne abiden pat bone, / Pa3 alle clerkez hym hade in cure, / His lyf wer loste anvnder mone

No heart of flesh under the moon could endure such great wonder as when I looked upon that castle wall, so astonishing was its appearance. I stood as still as a dazed quail in astonishment at that vivid sight, so that I felt neither rest nor exertion, I was so hypnotised by the pure radiance for I dare to say with absolute conviction, if a man had endured that fate in the flesh, his life on earth would be lost, even if all the physicians had him in their care

RY3t as pe maynful mone con rys / Er penne pe day-glem dryue al doun, / So sodanly on a wonder wyse / I watz war of a prosessyoun. / pis noble cite of ryche enpresse / Watz sodanly fuI, withouten sommoun, / Of such vergynez in pe same gyse / pat watz my blysful anvnder croun. / And coronde wern alle of pe same fasoun, / Depaynt in perlez and wedez qwyte; / In vchonez breste watz bounden boun / Pe blysful perle with gret delyt

Just as when the mighty moon rises before the daylight sinks down entirely, so suddenly in a miraculous way I became aware of a procession. This noble city of glorious splendour was suddenly, without any summons, full of such virgins in the same dress as my lovely girl under her crown, and all were crowned in the same fashion, adorned in pearls and white clothes. On the breast of each one the lovely pearl was securely fastened with great delight

With gret delyt pay glod in fere / On golden gatez pat glent as glasse; / Hundreth powsandez I wot per were, / And alle in sute her liurez wasse. / Tor to knaw pe gladdest chere. / Lombe byfore con proudly passe / Wyth hornez seuen of red golde cler; / As praysed perlez His wedez wasse. / Towarde pe throne pay trone a tras. / pa3 pay wern fele, no pres in plyt, / Bot mylde as maydenez seme at mas, / So droj pay forth with gret delyt

With great delight they glided along together on golden streets that shone like glass. I know there were hundreds of thousands, and their liveries were all matching. It was difficult to identify the happiest face. The Lamb with seven horns of bright red gold proudly went before them; his clothes were like precious pearls. They made their way towards the throne; though they were many, there was no crowding in their arrangement, but, as modest as dignified maidens at Mass, they moved ahead with great delight

Delyt pat Hys come encroached / To much hit were of for to melle. / pise aldermen, quen He aproched, / Grouelyng to His fete pay felIe. / Legyounes of aungelez togeder uoched / Per kesten ensens of swete smelle; / Pen glory and gle watz owe abroched; / Al songe to loue pat gay Juelle. / Pe steuen mogt stryke pur3 pe vrbe to helle / Pat pe vertues of heuen of joye endyte. / To loue be Lombe His meyny inmelle / Iwysse I la3t a gret delyt.

The delight that his coming brought would be too much to describe. When he approached, the elders fell prostrate at his feet. Legions, called together, cast sweet-smelling incense there. Then homage and joy were poured out anew: all sang to praise that fair jewel. The sound of joy the Virtues of heaven expressed might pierce through the earth to hell. Indeed I had great delight to praise the Lamb amidst his company

Delit pe Lombe for to deuise / With much meruayle in mynde went. / Best watz He, blypest, and moste to pryse, / Pat euer I herde of speche spent; / So worply whyt wern wedez Hys, / His lokez symple, Hymself so gent. / Bot a wounde fuI wyde and weete con wyse / Anende Hys hert, pur3 hyde torente. / Of His quyte syde His bIod outsprent. / Alas, p03t I, who did pat spyt? / Ani breste for bale a3t haf forbrent / Er he perto hade had deIyt.

Delight at gazing upon the Lamb filled my mind with great wonder: he was the best, most joyous and most estimable that I ever heard spoken of. So gloriously white were his clothes, his expression modest, he himself so courteous. But a wound very wide and wet could be seen near his heart, torn through his skin; his blood gushed out from his white side. Alas, I thought, who did that cruel deed? Any breast should have burnt up with sorrow sooner than taking delight in that

The Lombe delyt non lyste to wene; / Pa3 He were hurt and wounde hade, / In His sembeIaunt watz neuer sene, / So wern His glentez gloryous glade. / I loked among His meyny schene / How pay wyth Iyf wern laste and lade; / Pen sa3 I per my lyttel queen / Pat I wende had standen by me in sclade. / Lorde, much of mirbe watz pat ho made / Among her ferez pat watz so quyt! / Pat sY3t me gart to penk to wade / For luf-Iongyng in gret delyt

No-one would wish to doubt the Lamb’s delight; even though he was injured and had a wound, it was never visible in his expression, his glances were so gloriously happy. I observed among his bright company how bursting with life they were; then I saw there my little queen who I believed had been standing by me in the valley. Lord, she who was so white expressed great joy among her companions! That sight caused me to resolve to wade over, out of love-longing in my great delight

Delyt me drof in Y3e and ere, / My manez mynde to maddyng malte; / Quen I se3 my frely, I wolde be bere, / BY30Iide pe water pa3 ho were walte. / I p03t pat nopyng myjt me dere / To fech me bur and take me halte, / And to start in pe strem schulde non me stere, / To swymme pe remnaunt, pa3 I per swalte. / Bot of pat munt I watz bitalt; / When I schulde start in pe ·strem astraye, / Out of pat caste I watz bycalt: / Hit watz not at my Pryncez paye

Delight came rushing into my eye and ear and dissolved my human mind into madness. When I saw my beautiful girl I wanted to be there, though she was removed beyond the water. I thought that nothing might impede me, fetching me a blow and taking hold of me, and no-one would restrain me from plunging into the river, to swim the remainder even if I died there. But I was shaken out of that purpose: when I was misguidedly going to plunge into the river, I was called back from that attempt; it was not pleasing to my Prince

Hit payed Hym not pat I so flonc / Ouer meruelous merez, so mad arayd. / Of raas pa3 I were raseh and ronk, / 3et rapely perinne I watz restayed, / For rY3t as I sparred vn to pe bone, / Pat brathpe out of my drem me brayde. / Pen wakned I in pat erher wlonk; / My hede vpon pat hylle watz layde / Peras my perle to grounde strayd. / I raxled, and fel in gret affray, / And, sykyng, to myself I sayd: / 'Now al be to pat Pryncez paye

It did not please him that I should dash like that over wonderful waters in such a mad state. Though I was reckless and impetuous in my haste, I was quickly held back from that action, for just as I darted to the riverbank, that impetuosity jolted me out of my dream. Then I awoke in that lovely garden; my head was laid on that mound where my pearl had slipped away into the earth. I stretched and fell into great dismay, and, sighing, I said to myself: ‘Now may everything be pleasing to that Prince’

Me payed ful ilIe to be outfleme / So sodenly of pat fayre regioun, / Fro alle po sY3tez so quyke and queme. / A longeyng heuy me strok in swone, / And rewfully penne I con to reme: / '0 perle,' quop I, 'of rych renoun, / So watz hit me dere pat pou con deme / In pys veray avysyoun! / If hit be ueray and soth sermoun / Pat pou so strykez in garlande gay, / So wel is me in pys doel-doungoun / Pat pou art to pat Prynsez paye.

It pleased me not at all to be banished so suddenly from that lovely country, from all those sights so vibrant and attractive. A deep yearning struck me down in a faint, and then I began to lament sadly: ‘O Pearl of high honour,’ I said, ‘What you taught me in this true vision was so precious to me! If it’s a real and truthful revelation that you are set thus in a glorious garland, I’m content in this dungeon of sorrow that you  are pleasing to that Prince

To pat Pryncez paye hade I ay bente, / And 3erned no more pen watz me geuen, / And haIden me per in trwe entent, / As pe perle me prayed pat watz so pryuen, / As helde, drawen to Goddez present, / To mo of His mysterys I hade ben dryuen. / Bot ay wolde man of happe more hente / Pen mojte by rY3t vpon hem clyuen; / Perfore my joye watz sone toriuen, / And I kaste of kythez pat lastez aye. / Lorde, mad hit arn pat agayn Pe stryuen, / Oper proferen Pe 03t agayn Py paye

Had I always bowed to that Prince’s pleasure and longed for no more than had been given to me, and restricted myself to that with loyal resolve, as the Pearl who was so admirable asked me to, then as likely, drawn into the presence of God, I should have been conducted to more of his mysteries. But people always want to seize more happiness than might rightfully belong to them. Therefore my joy was quickly torn to shreds and I was thrown out of regions that last eternally. Lord, mad are those who struggle with you, or propose to do anything contrary to your pleasure

To pay pe Prince oper sete sa3te / Hit is ful epe to pe god Krystyin; / For I haf founden Hym, bope day and najte, / A God, a Lorde, a frende ful fyin. / Ouer pis hyul pis lote I layte, / For pyty of my perle enclyin, / And sypen to God I hit bytayte, / In Krystez dere blessyng and myn, / Pat in pe forme of bred and wyn / Pe preste vus schewez vch a daye. / He gef vus to be His homly hyne / Ande precious perlez vnto His pay. /  Amen. Amen.

To please the Prince or be reconciled to him is very easy for the good Christian, for I have found him, both day and night, a God, a Lord, a very fine friend. Lying on this mound I had this experience,   my Pearl, whom I then entrusted to God, with Christ’s dear blessing and mine, Christ whom the priest shows us every day in the form of bread and wine. May he grant us to be servants of his household and precious pearls to please him. Amen