The Pound of Flesh

Then sent the King Constantine
Sendmen til his moder Eline,
For to do seke withouten hon
The cros that Crist was on don,
To find that haly tree sumquar,
And do a kirc be raised thar.
Benciras and Ansiers,
Thir twa men war messagers;
Thay war sent to the queen fra Rome —
But herkens hider how thay gave dome.
This levedy had that day hir with
A Cristen man was good goldsmith:
Quat thing that sho wald him mouth
At mak til hir ful wel he couth.
But pour he was, of littel aght,
And til a Jew he mikel aght —
A summe of monee for to amount —
That asked him ful hard acount.
It was wel sene that it was hard,
For he him asked with slik forward,
If he his monee mought not get,
That he suld yeild him for his det
That ilk weght that thar was less
— He suld yeild — of his awn fless.
The day is gan, the det unquit,
The body most beleve for it.
The Cristen dred ful sar the pine,
But the Jew wald never fine.
Bath to the queenes court thay come,
The Jew thraly bad give him dome;
Sharp grounden knif in hand he bar,
The Cristen man stood naked thar.
Thay wald have all again him bought,
But grant of Jew then gat thay nought
Of ransun, namar than a ress:
Wald he of her but of his fless.
Said Benciras and Ansiers:
" Thou sal have, brother, al that thee fers;
The queen has biden us to deme
To thee al that to right is queme.
Say me then that thou wil him dight,
If he be dempt to thee with right."
" How?" said the Jew, " but, by my lay,
The werst that ever I can or may!
His eyen first put out I sal,
And his hend he werkes withal,
Tung and nese, and sithen the lave,
Til that I al my covenand have."
The messagers him gave answare:
" Then semes it nought thou wil him spare:
Tak then thy fless, that grantes he thee,
Swa that the blood may saved be;
A drope of blood if that he tine
We give for dome the wrang is thine.
Quatsum his fless was sald and bought,
His blood to sell he never it thought.
Yeild thee thyn fless he is wel on-knawn;
Save him the blood, that is his awn."
Then said that Jew: " By saint Drightine,
Me think the wers part is mine;
For-don ye have me with your dome
That ye Romains has brought fro Rome.
Maugre thar-for mot thay have,
All that swilk a dome me gave!"
Benciras then said: " Parfay!
Al has this court herd thy missay;
Me and my laverd Sir Ansire,
Thou has missaid us in thyn ire.
But we will missay thee na wight,
But elles of thee we will ha right.
The levedy sent us hider to
This court for rightwisnes to do,
And sothfastnes ha we thee said:
Thar-for has thou us missaid."
The levedy bad withouten lite
Thay suld the jugement give it tite;
For siker was sho then of site,
That the Cristen man was quite.
The Jew was dempt swa that the quene
Suld all his catel have bidene,
In hir mercy his tung to tak
That in hir court slik missay spak.
The Jew him thought selcouthly tene
At this dome that was swa kene,
And said on high, that all mought here;
" Me war lever you for to lere
Quar lis your laverd rode-tree
Than dempt swa smertly for to be."
" God wat, my freind", then said Eline,
" Thou sal be quit of al thy pine
If thou will do as we thee bid,
To shew us quar that cros is hid."
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