And playen songs on a small ribible;
Thereto he song sometime a loud quinible,
And as well coude he play on a giterne.
In all the toun n'as brewhous ne taverne,
That he ne visited with his solas,'
There as that any galliard2 tapstere was.
THER was in Asie, in a gret citie,
Amonges Cristen folk a Jewerie,'
Sustened by a lord of that contree
For foule usure, and lucre of villanie,
Hateful to Criste, and to his compagnie :
And thurgh the strete men mighten ride and wend,
For it was free, and open at either ende.
A littel scole of Cristen folk ther stood
Doun at the farther ende, in which ther were
Children an hepe comen of Cristen blood,
That lerned in that scole yere by yere,
Swiche maner doctrines as men used there:
This is to say, to singen and to rede,
As smalle children don in hir childhede
Among thise children was a widewes sone,
A litel clergion, sevene yere of
1 A district appropriated to Jews.
That day by day to scole was his wone,1
And eke also, whereas he
Of Cristes moder, had he in usage
As him was taught, to knele adoun, and say,
Ave Marie as he goth by the way.
Thus hath this widewe hire litel sone ytaught
Our blissful Lady, Cristes modere dere,
To worship aye, and he forgate it naught:
For sely' child wol alway sone lere."
But aye, when I remembre on this matere,
Seint Nicholas stant' ever in my presence,
For he so yong to Crist did reverence.
This litel childe his litel book lerning,
As in the scole he sate at his primere,
He Alma redemptoris herde singe,
As children lered hir antiphonere:"
And as he dorst, he drow him nere and nere,
And hearkened ay the wordes and the note,
Till he the firste verse coude all by rote.
Nought wist he what this Latin was to say,
For he so yong and tendre was of age:
But on a day his fellow gan he pray
To expounden him this songe in his langage,
Or telle him why this songe was in usage:
This prayde he him to construe and declare,
Full often time upon his knees bare.
His felaw, that which elder was than he,
Answered him thus: This song, I have herd say,
Was maked of our blissful Lady free,
Hire to salue, and eke hire for to pray
To ben our help, and succour when we dey.
I can no more expound in this matere:
I lerne song, I can but small grammere.
And is this song maked in reverence
Of Cristes moder? said this innocent;
Now certes I wol do my diligence
To con it alle, or Cristemasse be went1
Though that I for my primer shall be shent,'
And shal be beten thries' in an hour,
I wol it conne, our Ladie for to honour.
His felaw taught him homeward privily
Fro day to day, till he coude it by rote,
And then he song it wel and boldely
Fro word to word according with the note:
Twies a day it passed through his throte,
To scoleward and homeward whan he wente :
On Cristes moder set was his entente.
As I have said, throughout this Jewerie
This litel child as he came to and fro,
Full merily than wold he sing and crie,
O Alma redemptoris, ever mo:
The swetenesse hath his herte persed1 so
Of Cristes moder, that to hire to pray
He cannot stint of singing by the way.
Our firste foe, the serpent Sathanas,
That hath in Jewes herte his waspes nest,
Up swale' and said, O Ebraike peple, alas!
Is this to you a thing that is honest,
That swiche a boy shall walken as him leste
In your despite, and sing of swiche sentence,
Which is again our lawes reverence?
From thennes forth the Jewes han conspired
This innocent out of the world to chace :
An homicide' therto han they hired,
That in an alleye had a privee place,
And as the child gan forthby to pace,
This cursed Jew him hent,' and held him fast,
And cut his throte, and in a pit him cast.
I say that in a wardrope they him threwe,
Where as this lewes purgen their entraille.
O cursed folk, of Herodes alle newe,
What may your evil entente you availle?
Mordre wol out, certein it wol not faille,
And namely ther" the honour of God shall sprede :
The blood outcrieth on the cursed deed.
O martyr souded in virginitee,
Now mayst thou singe, and folwen ever in on
The white lamb celestiall, quod she,
Of which the great Evangelist Seint John
In Pathmos wrote, which sayth that they that gon
Beforn this lamb, and singe a song al newe,
That never fleshly woman they ne knewe.
A house of office-a privy.
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