St. Dorothy

It hath been seen and yet it shall be seen     That out of tender mouths Gods praise hath been     Made perfect, and with wood and simple string     He hath played music sweet as shawm-playing     To please himself with softness of all sound;     And no small thing but hath been sometime found     Full sweet of use, and no such humbleness     But God hath bruised withal the sentences     And evidence of wise men witnessing;     No leaf that is so soft a hidden thing     It never shall get sight of the great sun;     The strength of ten has been the strength of one,     And lowliness has waxed imperious.     There was in Rome a man Theophilus     Of right great blood and gracious ways, that had     All noble fashions to make people glad     And a soft life of pleasurable days;     He was a goodly man for one to praise,     Flawless and whole upward from foot to head;     His arms were a red hawk that alway fed     On a small bird with feathers gnawed upon,     Beaten and plucked about the bosom-bone     Whereby a small round fleck like fire there was:     They called it in their tongue lampadias;     This was the banner of the lordly man.     In many straits of sea and reaches wan     Full of quick wind, and many a shaken firth,     It had seen fighting days of either earth,     Westward or east of waters Gaditane     (This was the place of sea-rocks under Spain     Called after the great praise of Hercules)     And north beyond the washing Pontic seas,     Far windy Russian places fabulous,     And salt fierce tides of storm-swoln Bosphorus.     Now as this lord came straying in Rome town     He saw a little lattice open down     And after it a press of maidens heads     That sat upon their cold small quiet beds     Talking, and played upon short-stringd lutes;     And other some ground perfume out of roots     Gathered by marvellous moons in Asia;     Saffron and aloes and wild cassia,     Coloured all through and smelling of the sun;     And over all these was a certain one     Clothed softly, with sweet herbs about her hair     And bosom flowerful; her face more fair     Than sudden-singing April in soft lands:     Eyed like a gracious bird, and in both hands     She held a psalter painted green and red.     This Theophile laughed at the heart, and said;     Now God so help me hither and St. Paul,     As by the new time of their festival     I have good will to take this maid to wife.     And herewith fell to fancies of her life     And soft half-thoughts that ended suddenly.     This is mans guise to please himself, when he     Shall not see one thing of his pleasant things,     Nor with outwatch of many travailings     Come to be eased of the least pain he hath     For all his love and all his foolish wrath     And all the heavy manner of his mind.     Thus is he like a fisher fallen blind     That casts his nets across the boat awry     To strike the sea, but lo, he striketh dry     And plucks them back all broken for his pain     And bites his beard and casts across again     And reaching wrong slips over in the sea.     So hath this man a strangled neck for fee,     For all his cost he chuckles in his throat.     This Theophile that little hereof wote     Laid wait to hear of her what she might be:     Men told him she had name of Dorothy,     And was a lady of a worthy house.     Thereat this knight grew inly glorious     That he should have a love so fair of place.     She was a maiden of most quiet face,     Tender of speech, and had no hardihood     But was nigh feeble of her fearful blood;     Her mercy in her was so marvellous     From her least years, that seeing her school-fellows     That read beside her stricken with a rod,     She would cry sore and say some word to God     That he would ease her fellow of his pain.     There is no touch of sun or fallen rain     That ever fell on a more gracious thing.     In middle Rome there was in stone-working     The church of Venus painted royally.     The chapels of it were some two or three,     In each of them her tabernacle was     And a wide window of six feet in glass     Coloured with all her works in red and gold.     The altars had bright cloths and cups to hold     The wine of Venus for the services,     Made out of honey and crushed wood-berries     That shed sweet yellow through the thick wet red,     That on high days was borne upon the head     Of Venus priest for any man to drink;     So that in drinking he should fall to think     On some fair face, and in the thought thereof     Worship, and such should triumph in his love.     For this soft wine that did such grace and good     Was new trans-shaped and mixed with Loves own blood,     That in the fighting Trojan time was bled;     For which came such a woe to Diomed     That he was stifled after in hard sea.     And some said that this wine-shedding should be     Made of the falling of Adonis blood,     That curled upon the thorns and broken wood     And round the gold silk shoes on Venus feet;     The taste thereof was as hot honey sweet     And in the mouth ran soft and riotous.     This was the holiness of Venus house.     It was their worship, that in August days     Twelve maidens should go through those Roman ways     Naked, and having gold across their brows     And their hair twisted in short golden rows,     To minister to Venus in this wise:     And twelve men chosen in their companies     To match these maidens by the altar-stair,     All in one habit, crowned upon the hair.     Among these men was chosen Theophile.     This knight went out and prayed a little while,     Holding queen Venus by her hands and knees;     I will give thee twelve royal images     Cut in glad gold, with marvels of wrought stone     For thy sweet priests to lean and pray upon,     Jasper and hyacinth and chrysopras,     And the strange Asian thalamite that was     Hidden twelve ages under heavy sea     Among the little sleepy pearls, to be     A shrine lit over with soft candle-flame     Burning all night red as hot brows of shame,     So thou wilt be my lady without sin.     Goddess that art all gold outside and in,     Help me to serve thee in thy holy way.     Thou knowest, Love, that in my bearing day     There shone a laughter in the singing stars     Round the gold-ceild bride-bed wherein Mars     Touched thee and had thee in your kissing wise.     Now therefore, sweet, kiss thou my maidens eyes     That they may open graciously towards me;     And this new fashion of thy shrine shall be     As soft with gold as thine own happy head.     The goddess, that was painted with face red     Between two long green tumbled sides of sea,     Stooped her neck sideways, and spake pleasantly:     Thou shalt have grace as thou art thrall of mine.     And with this came a savour of shed wine     And plucked-out petals from a roses head:     And softly with slow laughs of lip she said,     Thou shalt have favour all thy days of me.     Then came Theophilus to Dorothy,     Saying: O sweet, if one should strive or speak     Against Gods ways, he gets a beaten cheek     For all his wage and shame above all men.     Therefore I have no will to turn again     When God saith go, lest a worse thing fall out.     Then she, misdoubting lest he went about     To catch her wits, made answer somewhat thus:     I have no will, my lord Theophilus,     To speak against this worthy word of yours;     Knowing how Gods will in all speech endures,     That save by grace there may no thing be said.     Then Theophile waxed light from foot to head,     And softly fell upon this answering.     It is well seen you are a chosen thing     To do God service in his gracious way.     I will that you make haste and holiday     To go next year upon the Venus stair,     Covered none else, but crowned upon your hair,     And do the service that a maiden doth.     She said: but I that am Christs maid were loth     To do this thing that hath such bitter name.     Thereat his brows were beaten with sore shame     And he came off and said no other word.     Then his eyes chanced upon his banner-bird,     And he fell fingering at the staff of it     And laughed for wrath and stared between his feet,     And out of a chafed heart he spake as thus:     Lo how she japes at me Theophilus,     Feigning herself a fool and hard to love;     Yet in good time for all she boasteth of     She shall be like a little beaten bird.     And while his mouth was open in that word     He came upon the house Janiculum,     Where some went busily, and other some     Talked in the gate called the gate glorious.     The emperor, which was one Gabalus,     Sat over all and drank chill wine alone.     To whom is come Theophilus anon,     And said as thus: Beau sire, Dieu vous aide.     And afterward sat under him, and said     All this thing through as ye have wholly heard.     This Gabalus laughed thickly in his beard.     Yea, this is righteousness and maiden rule.     Truly, he said, a maid is but a fool.     And japed at them as one full villainous,     In a lewd wise, this heathen Gabalus,     And sent his men to bind her as he bade.     Thus have they taken Dorothy the maid,     And haled her forth as men hale pick-purses:     A little need God knows they had of this,     To hale her by her maiden gentle hair.     Thus went she lowly, making a soft prayer,     As one who stays the sweet wine in his mouth,     Murmuring with eased lips, and is most loth     To have done wholly with the sweet of it.     Christ king, fair Christ, that knowest all mens wit     And all the feeble fashion of my ways,     O perfect God, that from all yesterdays     Abidest whole with morrows perfected,     I pray thee by thy mothers holy head     Thou help me to do right, that I not slip:     I have no speech nor strength upon my lip,     Except thou help me who art wise and sweet.     Do this too for those nails that clove thy feet,     Let me die maiden after many pains.     Though I be least among thy handmaidens,     Doubtless I shall take death more sweetly thus.     Now have they brought her to King Gabalus,     Who laughed in all his throat some breathing-whiles:     By God, he said, if one should leap two miles,     He were not pained about the sides so much.     This were a soft thing for a man to touch.     Shall one so chafe that hath such little bones?     And shook his throat with thick and chuckled moans     For laughter that she had such holiness.     What aileth thee, wilt thou do services?     It were good fare to fare as Venus doth.     Then said this lady with her maiden mouth,     Shamefaced, and something paler in the cheek:     Now, sir, albeit my wit and will to speak     Give me no grace in sight of worthy men,     For all my shame yet know I this again,     I may not speak, nor after downlying     Rise up to take delight in lute-playing,     Nor sing nor sleep, nor sit and fold my hands,     But my soul in some measure understands     Gods grace laid like a garment over me.     For this fair God that out of strong sharp sea     Lifted the shapely and green-coloured land,     And hath the weight of heaven in his hand     As one might hold a bird, and under him     The heavy golden planets beam by beam     Building the feasting-chambers of his house,     And the large world he holdeth with his brows     And with the light of them astonisheth     All place and time and face of life and death     And motion of the north wind and the south,     And is the sound within his angels mouth     Of singing words and words of thanksgiving,     And is the colour of the latter spring     And heat upon the summer and the sun,     And is beginning of all things begun     And gathers in him all things to their end,     And with the fingers of his hand doth bend     The stretched-out sides of heaven like a sail,     And with his breath he maketh the red pale     And fills with blood faint faces of men dead,     And with the sound between his lips are fed     Iron and fire and the white body of snow,     And blossom of all trees in places low,     And small bright herbs about the little hills,     And fruit pricked softly with birds tender bills,     And flight of foam about green fields of sea,     And fourfold strength of the great winds that be     Moved always outward from beneath his feet,     And growth of grass and growth of sheavd wheat     And all green flower of goodly-growing lands;     And all these things he gathers with his hands     And covers all their beauty with his wings;     The same, even God that governs all these things,     Hath set my feet to be upon his ways.     Now therefore for no painfulness of days     I shall put off this service bound on me.     Also, fair sir, ye know this certainly,     How God was in his flesh full chaste and meek     And gave his face to shame, and either cheek     Gave up to smiting of men tyrannous.     And here with a great voice this Gabalus     Cried out and said: By Gods blood and his bones,     This were good game betwixen night and nones     For one to sit and hearken to such saws:     I were as lief fall in some big beasts jaws     As hear these womens jaw-teeth chattering;     By God a woman is the harder thing,     One may not put a hook into her mouth.     Now by St. Luke I am so sore adrouth     For all these saws I must needs drink again.     But I pray God deliver all us men     From all such noise of women and their heat.     That is a noble scripture, well I weet,     That likens women to an empty can;     When God said that he was a full wise man.     I trow no man may blame him as for that.     And herewithal he drank a draught, and spat,     And said: Now shall I make an end hereof.     Come near all men and hearken for Gods love,     And ye shall hear a jest or twain, God wot.     And spake as thus with mouth full thick and hot;     But thou do this thou shalt be shortly slain.     Lo, sir, she said, this death and all his pain     I take in penance of my bitter sins.     Yea now, quoth Gabalus, this game begins.     Lo, without sin one shall not live a span.     Lo, this is she that would not look on man     Between her fingers folded in thwart wise.     See how her shame hath smitten in her eyes     That was so clean she had not heard of shame.     Certes, he said, by Gabalus my name,     This two years back I was not so well pleased.     This were good mirth for sick men to be eased     And rise up whole and laugh at hearing of.     I pray thee show us something of thy love,     Since thou wast maid thy gown is waxen wide.     Yea, maid I am, she said, and somewhat sighed,     As one who thought upon the low fair house     Where she sat working, with soft bended brows     Watching her threads, among the school-maidens.     And she thought well now God had brought her thence     She should not come to sew her gold again.     Then cried King Gabalus upon his men     To have her forth and draw her with steel gins.     And as a man hag-ridden beats and grins     And bends his body sidelong in his bed,     So wagged he with his body and knaves head,     Gaping at her, and blowing with his breath.     And in good time he gat an evil death     Out of his lewdness with his cursd wives:     His bones were hewn asunder as with knives     For his misliving, certes it is said.     But all the evil wrought upon this maid,     It were full hard for one to handle it.     For her soft blood was shed upon her feet,     And all her bodys colour bruised and faint.     But she, as one abiding Gods great saint,     Spake not nor wept for all this travail hard.     Wherefore the king commanded afterward     To slay her presently in all mens sight.     And it was now an hour upon the night     And winter-time, and a few stars began.     The weather was yet feeble and all wan     For beating of a weighty wind and snow.     And she came walking in soft wise and slow,     And many men with faces piteous.     Then came this heavy cursing Gabalus,     That swore full hard into his drunken beard;     And faintly after without any word     Came Theophile some paces off the king.     And in the middle of this wayfaring     Full tenderly beholding her he said:     There is no word of comfort with men dead     Nor any face and colour of things sweet;     But always with lean cheeks and lifted feet     These dead men lie all aching to the blood     With bitter cold, their brows withouten hood     Beating for chill, their bodies swathed full thin:     Alas, what hire shall any have herein     To give his life and get such bitterness?     Also the soul going forth bodiless     Is hurt with naked cold, and no man saith     If there be house or covering for death     To hide the soul that is discomforted.     Then she beholding him a little said:     Alas, fair lord, ye have no wit of this;     For on one side death is full poor of bliss     And as ye say full sharp of bone and lean:     But on the other side is good and green     And hath soft flower of tender-coloured hair     Grown on his head, and a red mouth as fair     As may be kissed with lips; thereto his face     Is as Gods face, and in a perfect place     Full of all sun and colour of straight boughs     And waterheads about a painted house     That hath a mile of flowers either way     Outward from it, and blossom-grass of May     Thickening on many a side for length of heat,     Hath God set death upon a noble seat     Covered with green and flowered in the fold,     In likeness of a great king grown full old     And gentle with new temperance of blood;     And on his brows a purfled purple hood,     They may not carry any golden thing;     And plays some tune with subtle fingering     On a small cithern, full of tears and sleep     And heavy pleasure that is quick to weep     And sorrow with the honey in her mouth;     And for this might of music that he doth     Are all souls drawn toward him with great love     And weep for sweetness of the noise thereof     And bow to him with worship of their knees;     And all the field is thick with companies     Of fair-clothed men that play on shawms and lutes     And gather honey of the yellow fruits     Between the branches waxen soft and wide:     And all this peace endures in either side     Of the green land, and God beholdeth all.     And this is girdled with a round fair wall     Made of red stone and cool with heavy leaves     Grown out against it, and green blossom cleaves     To the green chinks, and lesser wall-weed sweet,     Kissing the crannies that are split with heat,     And branches where the summer draws to head.     And Theophile burnt in the cheek, and said:     Yea, could one see it, this were marvellous.     I pray you, at your coming to this house,     Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches;     Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is,     There is no green nor gracious red to see.     Yea, sir, she said, that shall I certainly.     And from her long sweet throat without a fleck     Undid the gold, and through her stretched-out neck     The cold axe clove, and smote away her head:     Out of her throat the tender blood full red     Fell suddenly through all her long soft hair.     And with good speed for hardness of the air     Each man departed to his house again.     Lo, as fair colour in the face of men     At seed-time of their blood, or in such wise     As a thing seen increaseth in mens eyes,     Caught first far off by sickly fits of sight     So a word said, if one shall hear aright,     Abides against the season of its growth.     This Theophile went slowly as one doth     That is not sure for sickness of his feet;     And counting the white stonework of the street,     Tears fell out of his eyes for wrath and love,     Making him weep more for the shame thereof     Than for true pain: so went he half a mile.     And women mocked him, saying: Theophile,     Lo, she is dead; what shall a woman have     That loveth such an one? so Christ me save,     I were as lief to love a man new-hung.     Surely this man has bitten on his tongue,     This makes him sad and writhled in his face.     And when they came upon the paven place     That was called sometime the place amorous     There came a child before Theophilus     Bearing a basket, and said suddenly:     Fair sir, this is my mistress Dorothy     That sends you gifts; and with this he was gone.     In all this earth there is not such an one     For colour and straight stature made so fair.     The tender growing gold of his pure hair     Was as wheat growing, and his mouth as flame.     God called him Holy after his own name;     With gold cloth like fire burning he was clad.     But for the fair green basket that he had,     It was filled up with heavy white and red;     Great roses stained still where the first rose bled,     Burning at heart for shame their heart withholds:     And the sad colour of strong marigolds     That have the sun to kiss their lips for love;     The flower that Venus hair is woven of,     The colour of fair apples in the sun,     Late peaches gathered when the heat was done     And the slain air got breath; and after these     The fair faint-headed poppies drunk with ease,     And heaviness of hollow lilies red.     Then cried they all that saw these things, and said     It was Gods doing, and was marvellous.     And in brief while this knight Theophilus     Is waxen full of faith, and witnesseth     Before the king of God and love and death,     For which the king bade hang him presently.     A gallows of a goodly piece of tree     This Gabalus hath made to hang him on.     Forth of this world lo Theophile is gone     With a wried neck, God give us better fare     Than his that hath a twisted throat to wear;     But truly for his love God hath him brought     There where his heavy body grieves him nought     Nor all the people plucking at his feet;     But in his face his ladys face is sweet,     And through his lips her kissing lips are gone:     God send him peace, and joy of such an one.     This is the story of St. Dorothy.     I will you of your mercy pray for me     Because I wrote these sayings for your grace,     That I may one day see her in the face.