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For he, Almachius, with ful wikke entente
To sleen hir in the bath his sonde53 sente.

Three strokes in the nekke he smoot hir tho,
The tormentour, but for no maner chaunce
He mighte noght smyte al hir nekke a-two;
And for ther was that tyme an ordinaunce,
That no man sholde doon man swich penaunce
The ferthe strook to smyten, softe or sore,
This tormentour ne dorste do na-more.

But half-deed, with hir nekke y-corven there,
He lefte hir lye, and on his wey is went.
The Cristen folk, which that aboute hir were,
With shetes han the blood ful faire y-hent.54
Three dayes lived she in this torment,
And never cessed hem the feith to teche;
That she hadde fostred, hem she gan to preche;

And hem she yaf hir moebles55 and hir thing,

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And to the pope Urban bitook hem tho,

And seyde, 'I axed this at hevene king,

To han respyt three dayes and na-mo,

To recomende to yow, er that I go,

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Thise soules, lo! and that I mighte do werche
Here of myn hous perpetuelly a cherche.'

Seint Urban, with his deknes,57 prively
The body fette, and buried it by nighte
Among his othere seintes honestly.

Hir hous the chirche of seint Cecilie highte,"
Seint Urban halwed it, as he well mighte;
In which, into this day, in noble wyse,
Men doon to Crist and to his seint servyse.

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"Message. 58Was called.

"Staunched.

65 Furniture.

Make.

67 Deacons.

THOMAS OCCLEVE

c. 1368-1450

Thomas Occleve, government clerk and poet, was born about 1368. Nothing definite is as yet known concerning his parentage or the place of his birth. What little has come to light about him is to be gleaned from his work. That he was a close follower of Chaucer and one of his ardent admirers is clear not only from the nature of his poetry but also from the fact that he left us the only Chaucer portrait that we possess.

Although his work shows the Chaucerian influence, in the quality of his narrative art as well as in his poetic sense, Occleve never rose to the level established by his master. He cannot be numbered among the great ones of literature, although among his numerous writings there are a few worthy of preservation—as much, perhaps, because they reflect something of the temper of men's minds in his day as that they show a not undistinguished poetical art in an unpoetic age.

His principal work is the Regiment of Princes, a long poem upon the ways of wise government.

The date of his death is generally believed to be 1450.

TRIBUTES OF HONOUR TO CHAUCER

I

WITH heart as trembling as the leaf of asp,

Father! syn that ye rede1 to do so;

Of my simple conceit will I the clasp
Undo, and let it at his large2 go!

But, wellaway! so is mine hearte woe

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That the Honour of the English Tongue is dead;
Of which I wont was have counsel and rede.

O, Master dear! and Father reverent!

My Master, Chaucer! Flower of Eloquence!
Mirrir of fructuous entendement !5

O, universal Father in science!

Alas! that thou, thine excellent prudence,

1Advise.

'Greatness.

'Advice. "Fruitful.

'Perception.

10

In thy bed mortal, mightest nought bequeath!
What ailed Death? Alas! why would he slay thee?

O, Death! thou didst not harm singular,

In slaughter of him; but all this land it smarteth! But, natheless, yet hast thou no power

His name slay! His high virtue astarteth,"

Unslain, from thee! which aye us lively hearteth
With bookes of his ornate inditing,

That are, to all this land enlumining.

Hast thou not eke my Master, Gower, slain?
Whose virtue I am insufficient

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For to descrive, I wot well in certain!

For to slay all this World thou hast ymeant!®

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But syn our Lord Christ was obedient

To thee, in faith! I can no further say!

His creatures mosten thee obey!

II

Simple is my ghost,10 and scarce my Literature,

Unto your Excellence for to write

Mine inward love; and yet in adventure

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Will I me put, though I can but lyte.

My deare Master (God his soule quite!")

And Father, Chaucer, fain would have me taught;
But I was dull, and learned lyte or naught!

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Alas! my worthy Master honourable!

This land's very Treasure and Richesse!
Death, by thy death, hath harm irreparable
Unto us done! Her vengeable" duress1
Despoiled hath this land of the sweetness
Of Rhetoric: for unto Tullius
Was never man so like amongst us!

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Also, who was higher in Philosophy

To Aristotle, in our tongue, but thou?

The steppes" of Virgil in Poesy

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Thou followed'st eke, men wot well enow!

That Cumber-world, that thee, my Master! slew,
Would I slain were! Death was too hasty

To run on thee, and 'reave thee thy life!

Death hath but small consideration

Unto the Virtuous, I have espied!
No more, as sheweth the probation,
Than to a vicious master Losel tried!
Among a heap, every man is mastered
With her, as well the poor as is the rich!
Learned and lewd15 eke standen all alike!

She might have tarried her vengeance a while,
Till that some man had equal to thee be!
Nay! let be that! She knew well that this Isle
May never man forth bringe like to thee!
And her office needes do must she!

God bade her so! I trust as for the best!

O, Master! Master! God, thy soul rest!

III

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The first Finder of our fair language

Hath said, in case semblable,16 and others mo,

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So highly well, that it is my dotage

For to express, or to touch any of tho!17

Alas! My Father from the world is go!

Alas! My worthy Master, Chaucer! him I mean.
Be thou advocate for him, Heaven's Queen!

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As thou well know'st, O, Blessed Virgin!

With loving heart and high devotion,

In thine honour, he wrote full many a line!
O, now, thine help and thy promotion
To God thy Sonne, make a motion,

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14 Foot prints. 15 Ignorant. 10 Similar. 17Those.

How he thy Servant was, Maiden Mary!
And let his soule flower and fructify!

Although his life be quenched, the resemblance

Of him hath in me so fresh liveliness

That, to put other men in remembrance
Of his person, I have here hes likeness

Do make; to this end, in soothfastness,

That they, that have of him least thought and mind,
By this painture,18 may again him find.

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[Here occurs, in the margin, Occleve's celebrated coloured portrait of Geoffrey Chaucer.]

JOHN LYDGATE

c. 1370-c. 1450

John Lydgate, priest and poet, was born in Suffolk about 1370. Very little is actually known concerning him. He is supposed to have received his early education at the hands of the Benedictines and later to have attended both Oxford and Cambridge. He was ordained priest in 1397 and opened a school in the monastery at Bury. In 1423 he became prior at Hatfield Broadoak, but his interest lay more in poetry than in the duties of his office. In 1434 he returned to Bury, where it is assumed that he remained until his death about 1450.

Lydgate was not a great poet; following the death of Chaucer there set in a period which was hardly conducive to the composition of great poetry. What he lacks in quality, however, he makes up in sheer bulk, writing in all some 250 poems, the most noteworthy among them being the Troy Book, the Falls of Princes, the Life of Our Lady, and the Dance of Death. All these are somewhat tedious in style and of considerable length. He wrote, however, a number of short devotional pieces, many of which are not without merit.

Not a few of Lydgate's poems have been lost; several remain as yet in manuscript form. Perhaps if we could examine everything he wrote, we should find something else comparable to The Child Jesus to Mary the Rose, for the discovery of which not only scholars but lovers of Catholic verse as well are indebted to Dr. Henry Noble MacCracken, President of Vassar College.

Painting.

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