St. Brandan: A Medieval Legend of the Sea

I^EINT Brendan the holi man was 3und of Irlande; Monek he was of hard Ijf, as ich understonde, Of fasting, of penance y-nonj; abbod he was there Of a thousend monekes that alle an under him were. So that hit ful an a dai, as oure Loverdes wille was, That Barint, another abbot, to him com bi cas; Seint Brendan him bisojte anon that he scholde under* stonde. And telle that he i-sej aboute in other londe. This gode man, tho. he hurde this, sikinges he makede y-nowe, And bigan to wepe in gret tho5t, and ful adoun i-suoje. Bituene his armes seint Brendan this holi man up nom, And custe and cride on him forte that his wit a5e com: “Fader,” he seide, “par charite, other red thu most take; Hider thu com for oure solaz, and for such deol to make, Tel ous what thu hast i-se5e, as thu hast aboute i-wend In the mochele see of occian, as oure Loverd the hath i-send.” Nou is the see of occian grettest and mest also, For he goth the wordle aboute and alle othere goth therto. So that Barint the olde man rijt at his hnrte groiinde, Wei wepinge bigan to telle what he er founde; He seide> “Ich hadde a godsone, Memoc was his name, Monek he was as we beoth, and man of grete fame, So that his hurte gan wende to a privei stede and stille, Ther he mijte alone beo to servi God at wille; So that bi mi leve he wende and alone drouj To an ylle that is in the see that is delitable y-nouj, Biside the Montayne of Stones that couth is wel wide. So longe that this gode monek in this ylle gan abide, That he hadde under him monekes meni on. Anon tho ich i-hurde this, thider-ward iqji gan gon, So that in avisioun cure suete Loverd him kende, That aje me, er ich come ther, threo journeyes he wende. So that we dude ous in a schip, and evere est-ward we drowe In the see of occian with turmentz y-nowe. Toward than est so fur we wende, that we come atte laste In a stude suythe dure and clouden overcaste; Al o tide of the dai we were in durchede. Atte laste oure suete Loverd forthere ous gan lede, So that we seje ane lond, thiderward oure schip drouj, Brijtterehit thojte than the sonne, joye ther was y-nouj. Of treon, of erbes, thikke hit stod biset in eche side; Of preciose stones ek that brijte schyneth wide; Eche erbe was f ul of floures, eche treo ful of frut. Bote hit were in hevene nas nevere more dedut. Therinne with joye j-nouj longe we gonne wende; Thej hit oub lute while thojte, we ne mi3te fjnde non ende, So that we come to a water cler and brijt y-nouj, That evene fram-ward than est to-ward thane west drouj. We stode and bihulde aboute, for we ne mi3te over wende; Ther com to ous a 51111^ man snythe fair and hende, He welcomede ous everechon miltheliche and suete, And nemnede evereches owe name, and wel mjldeliche ous gan grete, And seide, “je mi5te wel Jhesu Crist wel faire thonki mid rijte, That schoweth 30U his priveite and so moche of his mijte. This the lond that he wole jut er the wordles ende His durlings an urthe jeve, and hider hi schulle wende; This lond is half in this side, as je seoth wel wide, And bijunde the water halfen-del al bi thother side. That water ne mowe }e passi nojt, that other del to i-seo, Her 36 habbeth al a jer meteles i-beo, That 3e ne ete ne drinke no3t, ne slepe mid 30ure e3e; Ne chile ne hete ne fonde 30 no3t) ne no n73t i-se3e; For this is Godes priv6 stede, thurf him is al this li3t, Therfore hit worth her evre dai, and nevre more ni3t. If man nadde a3e Godes heste nothing mis-do, Herinne hi hadde 3ut i-ljved and here ofspring also. 3e ne mote bileve her no leng, agen 3e mote fare, The5 hit ne thenche 50U bote a while, 56 habbeth i-beo her 5are.” That so he brou5te ous in our schip, and faire his leve nom: And tho we were ham-ward in the see, we nuste whar he bicom. A5e-ward we wende ajen oure wiUe, that of-tho5te ous sore y-nou5, A3en to this other monekes this schip wel evene drouj; This monekes ume ajen ous, tho hi ous mi5te i-seo, And sori were and wrothe 7-nou5 that we hadde so long i-beo. We seide hem that we hadde i-beo in alle joje and feste, Bifore the 3ates of Paradjs, in the lond of biheste, That oure suete Loverd hath bihote hem that he loveth her, Ther is evere dai, and nevere ni5t, and eyere li3t sujthe der. “Certes,” quath this monekes, “this we mowe i-seo Bi the suete smjl of 50U, that 5e habbeth ther i-beo.”