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THE DEBATE OF THE 
 BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 MODERNIZED BY 
 FRANCIS JAMES CHILD 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY 
 GEORGE LYMAN KITTREDGE 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 R. E. LEE COMPANY 
 
 MCMVIII 
 
lUBR^RY of CONGRESS 
 I Two CoDies Received 
 
 DEC 17 1808 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1900 
 BT R. E. LEE COMPANY 
 
 Ji 
 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 1 HE conception underlying the Debate of the 
 Body and the Soul is very old. Two interesting 
 passages in Plutarch show the idea in a rather 
 definite form, and justify us in supposing that the 
 comparative advantages or disadvantages accruing 
 to Soul and Body from their association in this 
 life was a well-known theme in the discussions 
 of the ancient schools. Along with other bits 
 of antique lore, this general conception passed 
 into the confused stock of moral, psychological, 
 and religious beliefs that mingled with Biblical 
 doctrines in the minds of the early Christians, 
 and thus, reinforced or modified by divers traits 
 from the Orient, it became a part of the medi- 
 aeval consciousness . Among the documents which 
 influenced the growth of the legend, an obscure, 
 but significant, role was played by the apocryphal 
 Vision of St. Paul, assigned to about 38o a. d., 
 and by an uncanny tale sometimes associated 
 with St. Macarius of Alexandria, a holy man of 
 the fourth century. 
 
 [iii] 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Much of this legendary material was known 
 in England before the Norman Conquest, as is 
 shown by certain Anglo-Saxon homilies. There 
 is also a Middle Irish sermon which stands in some 
 kind of relation to the subject, though marked by 
 characteristic traits of Celtic extravagance. These 
 texts afford us some idea of the material on which 
 is based the earliest work that we need to con- 
 sider specifically, — an Anglo-Saxon poem of the 
 tenth century. They are not the source of the 
 poem, but they enable us to infer, with sufficient 
 certainty, what was the character of that source. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxon poem is not a dialogue. It 
 describes the Soul of a wicked man as revisiting 
 the Body, which has been long dead, and up- 
 braiding it bitterly. "My home was within 
 thee, and I was ever harassed by thy wicked 
 lusts, so that I was eager for thy death. Thou 
 didst not stint thyself of meat and drink, but 
 didst let me hunger and thirst for our Lord's 
 body and the wine of the sacrament. Now is 
 thy glory departed ; thy riches profit thee nothing. 
 Thou art no dearer to thy father or thy mother 
 or any of thy kin than the black raven is. Thou 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 art dumb and deaf. Yet I must visit thee by 
 night and leave thee again at cockcrow, when 
 holy men sing songs of praise to the living God. 
 It were better for thee if thou hadst been born 
 a bird, or a fish in the sea, or a beast of the 
 field. What wilt thou say to our Lord at the 
 Day of Doom ? Then must thou and I together 
 appear at the bar of the Almighty, to suffer the 
 torments which thou hast brought upon us by 
 thy evil deeds." The Body lies quiet in the 
 grave ; it can make no answer to the accusations 
 of the Soul. A second part, containing the 
 address of a righteous man's Soul to his Body, 
 is unfortunately incomplete. Certain fragments 
 of English verse, dating from the twelfth century, 
 belong to the same group as the Anglo-Saxon 
 poem, but are not derived from it. The re- 
 proaches addressed by the Soul to the Body 
 are of the same character, and the Body, as in 
 the Anglo-Saxon, seems incapable of a reply. 
 
 In a French poem of the early twelfth century, 
 however, the Body breaks its silence. This 
 poem, best designated by its first line, " Un 
 samedi par nuit," is a vision. The author sees 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 a corpse lying on a bier. The Soul has just 
 come forth and appears in the likeness of a 
 naked child. It addresses the Body in a long 
 and eloquent speech, accusing it of all manner 
 of evil and taunting it with its wretched plight. 
 Then the shroud stirs, the Body raises its head, 
 and the Soul is compelled to listen to a counter- 
 accusation, crushing in its vehemence and im- 
 possible to refute. "It is thou, Soul, that 
 shouldst bear the blame. Every sin that I com- 
 mitted was planned by thee. Both of us are 
 culpable, but thy fault is the greater, for I was 
 forced to obey thy promptings. I was the beast 
 of burden ; it was thou that didst direct me. 
 Would to God that I had been created without 
 a soul, — a clod of earth, a stone, a beast, a 
 worm of the dust I " Yet the Body refuses 
 to rail at its former companion. "We were 
 friends in the old days, and because of our 
 friendship we are lost forever," When the 
 Body has ceased speaking, it falls back upon 
 the bier. The Soul makes no reply. It breaks 
 forth in a passionate appeal — almost a reproach 
 — to God : ' ' Why dost thou create beings who 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 cannot apply themselves to good? Canst thou 
 win glory from the damned?" Then a demon 
 appears. He mocks the Soul and summons a 
 companion fiend. The Soul is like a lamb 
 among wolves. Its shrieks awake the sleeper, 
 and the vision ends. 
 
 In execution the French poem cannot compare 
 in dignity and finish with its Anglo-Saxon fore- 
 runner, but in plan it marks a distinct advance, 
 in that the Body does not remain dumb under 
 the reproaches of the Soul, but retorts them 
 powerfully, having, one must confess, the best 
 of the argument. Still, the plan is very simple. 
 There is no dialogue, properly so called, but 
 rather two long speeches followed by a moving 
 — an almost terrific — appeal or protest to God. 
 The whole, written as it is in the vernacular, 
 and in a simple style and artless metre, is mani- 
 festly intended for the unlearned. 
 
 Closely related to " Un samedi par nuit," but 
 not derived from it, is a Latin poem in stanzas, 
 dating from the latter half of the twelfth century 
 and written perhaps in England. It is known 
 as the Vision of Philibert, — a convenient 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 designation, though the introductory stanza which 
 so describes it is not found in all manuscripts 
 and may well be a later addition. The Vision is 
 a much more highly finished production than the 
 French poem, and was, of course, composed for 
 a cultivated audience, as, indeed, the scholastic 
 subtlety which marks the argument would be 
 enough to prove. But that is not all. It is, 
 unlike ' ' Un samedi par nuit," a genuine dialogue. 
 Both the Soul and the Body speak several times, 
 and their dispute is a real discussion of their 
 comparative responsibility for the sins which the 
 man has committed. The points raised are in 
 general those which find expression in the French 
 poem, but the argument is closer and is conducted 
 with a keener dramatic sense. 
 
 The Vision of Philibert met with the popularity 
 which it deserved, and translations or adaptations 
 occur in many languages. Among these, our 
 English Debate of the Body and the Soul, which 
 was written in the second half of the thirteenth 
 century, is superior to all the rest. The Debate 
 is by no means a mere translation of the Latin 
 Vision. It handles the material with great 
 
 [ viii ] 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 freedom and far surpasses its original. Indeed, 
 it is incomparably the best embodiment of the 
 theme that can be found in any literature. The 
 unknown author was a man of genius, working 
 on a subject which was thoroughly congenial 
 to the temper of his mind. He had both im- 
 agination and a sense of form. His style and 
 his metre are alike admirable. The somewhat 
 scholastic argumentation of the Vision of Phili- 
 bert gives place under his hands to dialogue of 
 uncommon impressiveness and much dramatic 
 power. Even the grotesque horror of the con- 
 clusion, foreign as it is to our modern habits 
 of thought, only heightens the feeling of pity 
 and fear which the desperate recriminations of 
 the Soul and the Body produce. It is impossible 
 to read the poem without high and sustained 
 emotion. 
 
 We cannot discuss the minor versions of the 
 Debate of the Body and the Soul, a mere 
 enumeration of which would take much space. 
 They are of every possible kind, and some of 
 them are as late as the eighteenth, and even 
 the nineteenth, century. A single one may be 
 [ix] 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 specified, however, both because it is curious and 
 because it has escaped the notice of most scholars 
 who have occupied themselves with this subject. 
 This is a broadside ballad of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury, known as St. Bernard's Vision. The opening 
 stanzas will suffice to show its character : 
 
 As I lay slumbring in my bed one night, 
 A fearefull vision did me sore affright : 
 Me thought I saw a Soule departed late, 
 By it the Body in a poore estate. 
 
 Wailing with sighes, the Soule aloud did cry. 
 Upon the Body in the coffin by ; 
 And thus the Soule to it did make her moane. 
 With grievous sobs and many a bitter groane. 
 
 Professor Child's translation of the Debate 
 aims to reproduce the thirteenth-century English 
 poem as closely as possible. It was privately 
 printed, for distribution among friends, in 1888, 
 and is now reissued with the sanction of his 
 family. In order that the translator's method 
 may be fully understood, the brief note which 
 he prefixed to his version is likewise reprinted. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Francis James Child was born in Boston in 
 1825 and died in Cambridge in 1896. He was 
 appointed to a tutorship in Harvard College in 
 1 846. From i85i to 1876 he was Boylston 
 Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, and from 
 1876 until his death he was Professor of English. 
 His wide and accurate acquaintance with the 
 literature of many countries and of many periods 
 was the wonder of all who knew him, and his 
 published works ensure him a place among the 
 greatest scholars of modern times. His pro- 
 found knowledge of mediaeval literature was not 
 more remarkable than the warmth of his heart 
 and his deep and ready sympathy with whatever 
 was sound and amiable in human nature. 
 
 G. L. KiTTREDGE. 
 
vJF The Debate of the Body and the Soul, 
 often called The Vision of Philibert, there are 
 versions, widely differing, in many languages. 
 Far the most impressive and the most poetical 
 of those known to me is this English copy (one of 
 several), first printed in Wright's Latin Poems of 
 Walter Mapes, from a manuscript of about i3oo. 
 The seventh stanza, which partially supplies a 
 defect, has been adopted from other texts, and 
 also a few readings. Perhaps no poem of the 
 Middle Ages more requires, or would better 
 reward, a thorough editing. 
 
 While attempting to make this piece intelligible 
 to a modern reader, I have preferred to keep 
 a few obsolete words in the rhymes rather than 
 resort to a feeble paraphrase. Some of the less 
 familiar of such words are wood, furious, daft, 
 foolish, skill, discernment, grith, security, lith, 
 joint, rown, whisper, meyne, retinue, ernd, errand, 
 and lack, fault. Now and then it has been con- 
 venient to use an antiquated grammatical form ; 
 but I think that neither old words nor old forms 
 will be found troublesome. Though the rhyme is 
 generally full and rich" in the original, assonances 
 occur quite as often as here. 
 
 F. J. Child. 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
THE DEBATE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 jfVS I lay in a winter's night. 
 
 In heavy drowse, before the day. 
 Forsooth I saw a right strange sight — 
 
 A body on a bier that lay, 
 Which once had been a haughty knight, 
 
 And God cared httle to obey ; 
 Lost he had his hfes hght. 
 
 The soul was out, and should away. 
 
 [3] 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 When the soul was forced to go. 
 
 It turned, and by the bier it stood. 
 Surveyed the body it came fro. 
 So sadly, with affrighted mood. 
 THE SOUL j^ gai(t^ « « Wi wellaway and wo ! 
 
 SPEAKS ^ 
 
 Wo worth thy flesh and foule blood ! 
 Wretched body, why liest thou so, 
 That whilom wast so wild and wood? 
 
 ' ' Thou that wontest erst to ride 
 
 High on horseback, all uncowed, 
 So gorgeous, famed far and wide, 
 
 As a lion fierce and proud, 
 Where is now thy mickle pride. 
 
 And thy voice that was so loud? 
 Why liest thou stript, with none beside, 
 
 Stitcht up in that sorry shroud? 
 
 [^ 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 ' ' Where be thy castle and thy tower. 
 
 Thy chambers, and thy lofty hall, 
 Painted with many a goodly flower? 
 
 Thy robes rich and gay withal P 
 Thy soft quilt and thy coverture, 
 
 Thy cloth of sendal and of pall ? 
 Wretch, to-morrow shall thy bower 
 
 Be but cold and dark and small. 
 
 ' ' Where is all thy proud array. 
 
 Thy sumpters, with the stately bed. 
 Thy steeds and palfreys for relay. 
 
 And the horse-grooms that them led? 
 Thy shrilly shrieking falcons grey, 
 
 And thy sleuth-hounds fairly fed ? 
 Scant are thy goods, methinks, to-day. 
 
 And all thy friendes from thee fled. 
 
 [5] 
 
THE BODY 
 SPEAKS 
 
 THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 *' Where be the cooks so nimble, tell, 
 
 That should make ready thy rich meat, 
 With spices many, sweet to smell, 
 
 That never thou enough couldst eat. 
 To make that foule flesh to swell. 
 
 Which worms appointed were to fret? 
 And all that thou the pangs of hell 
 
 By gluttony for me mightst get ! " 
 
 When the soul, with tristful cheer. 
 
 Had y-made this mournful moan. 
 That body that lay on the bier, 
 
 A ghastly thing there, all alone. 
 Its head upon its neck did rear. 
 
 And said, as with a sickly groan, 
 " Soul, is it thou, my mate whilere. 
 
 That speakst such words, now thou art 
 gone ? 
 
 [6] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 ' ' After his image God thee shapt. 
 
 And gave thee bothe wit and skill; 
 To thy direction was I laft, 
 
 To guide according to thy will. 
 Nor learned I ever witchecraft, 
 
 Nor wist I what was good or ill. 
 No more than beastes dumb and daft, 
 
 But as the way thou pointedst still. 
 
 ** Ordained to serve thee, morn and night. 
 
 Do thy pleasure and obey, 
 Since the first hour thou sawst the light 
 
 I was committed to thy sway. 
 Thou, that of wrong deed and of right 
 
 Gouldst judge, methinks it in thee lay 
 Of my short wit to have foresight : 
 
 By thine own fault thou'rt lost for aye." 
 
 [7 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 THE SOUL JY^^ g^^^l it g^iJ .. g^J ]3g g^ill J 
 
 SPEAKS ^ 
 
 Who hath taught thee all this wit, 
 The crabbed words thou hast at will. 
 
 That liest there swollen as a butt ? 
 Weenest thou, wretch, although thou fill 
 
 With thy foule flesh a pit. 
 Of all the deeds thou diddest ill. 
 
 That thou so lightly shall go quit ? 
 
 '* Weenest thou now to get thee grith. 
 
 Where thou liest rotting in the clay P 
 Though thou be rotten, fell and pith. 
 
 And blowen with the wind away, 
 Yet shall thou come, with limb and lith, 
 
 Back to me on doomes-day, 
 And come to court, and I thee with, 
 
 There to take our harde pay. 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 * ' The rule to me did God commit, 
 
 But when ill thoughts came in thy head. 
 In thy teeth thou tookst the bit, 
 
 And diddest all that I forbade. 
 On sin and shame thy lust was set. 
 
 On every vileness and misdeed; 
 I would withstand thee oft, but yet 
 
 Thou folio wedst ever thine own reed. 
 
 ' ' When to tame thee and to teach 
 
 What was bad and good, I meant, 
 Of Grist nor kirk thou'dst hear no speech. 
 
 On wild and giddy pleasures bent. 
 Forever might I pray and preach; 
 
 To make thy frivolous mind consent 
 To own God was beyond my reach; 
 
 Thou didst thy wilful heart's intent. 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 " I bade thee think on soules need. 
 
 Matins, mass and even-song; 
 Such idle calls thou couldst not heed, 
 
 To youth far other thoughts belong. 
 To wood and water wouldst thou speed. 
 
 Or to court, to do men wrong; 
 Save for vain-glory or for meed, 
 
 Small good was found thy deeds 
 among. 
 
 *' Now may the wilde best'es ren. 
 
 And lien under lind and leaf. 
 And fowles fly by field and fen. 
 
 Since thy false heart has come to cleave. 
 Thine eyes are blind, and cannot ken, 
 
 Thy mouth is dumb, thine ear is deaf; 
 Thou liest there with a loathly grin. 
 
 And from thee cometh a wicked whiff. 
 
 [ lo ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 " There is no lady, bright of blee, 
 
 That wonted high thy love to rate, 
 That now would spend a night by thee 
 
 For any gift that she might get. 
 Thou art unseemly for to see. 
 
 Uncomely for to kissen sweet; 
 Thou hast not friend that would not flee 
 
 Shouldst thou come staggering through 
 the street." 
 
 The body groaned, and gan to say, 
 
 *' Soul, thou art in the wrong, iwiss, the body 
 All the blame on me to lay 
 
 That thou hast lost thy mickle bliss. 
 Where was I, by wood or way. 
 
 Where sat, stood, or did aught amiss. 
 But thine eye was on me aye ? 
 
 Well thou knowst that sooth it is. 
 
 [II ] 
 
 SPEAKS 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 '* Whither went I, up or down, 
 
 And did not bear thee on my back ? 
 Under thy rein, from town to town. 
 
 Still thou hadst me for thy hack. 
 But thou it in my ear didst rown. 
 
 Never thing I did or spak ; 
 This proof assoils me, thou must own, 
 
 Now I lie here so blue and black. 
 
 '' As long as we companions were, 
 
 I had all that I could need; 
 I could speak and see and hear, 
 
 Gould walk and ride, and drink and 
 eat. 
 Vilely changed is my cheer 
 
 Since the time thou didst me quit; 
 Deaf and dumb I lie on bier. 
 
 And may not stirren hands nor feet. 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 *' I should have been but as the sheep, 
 
 Or like the oxen or the swine. 
 That eat and drink, and he and sleep. 
 
 Are slain, and after know no pain; 
 Nor money cared to win or keep. 
 
 Nor knew the odds of well or wine. 
 Nor now be bound to helle deep. 
 
 But for those cursed wits of thine." 
 
 The soul it said, ''Of that no doubt, ™e soul 
 
 SPEAKS 
 
 Me, body, 'twas thy lot to bear; 
 For needs thou didst, I was without 
 
 Both hand and foot, thou wast aware. 
 Save as thou tookst me in and out, 
 
 I might not go nor here nor there; 
 Therefore my part it was to lout. 
 
 As he doth that no other dare. 
 
 [ i3 ] 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 * ' Of a woman born and bred, 
 
 Body, were we bothe two; 
 Together fostered fair and fed 
 
 Till thou couldest speak and go. 
 Softly thee, for love, I led, 
 
 Nor durst I ever cause thee wo; 
 To lose thee was my sorest dread; 
 
 No other should I get, I knew. 
 
 '* I saw thee fair in flesh and blood. 
 
 And all my love on thee I cast. 
 That thou shouldst thrive methought was 
 good, 
 
 That thou shouldst have thine ease and 
 rest. 
 This made thee of unruly mood, 
 
 And thy works were all unblest; 
 To fight against thee was no boot 
 
 For me that housed within thy breast. 
 
 [ i4 ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 '' Gluttony and lechery, 
 
 Pride and sinful coveytise, 
 Hatred and malignity 
 
 To God in heaven and all of his, 
 In wicked lustes for to lie, 
 
 Waste and squander — none of these 
 But I dearly shall aby; 
 
 Sorely it me terrifies. 
 
 * ' Warnings timely we two had 
 
 Of the judgment we should have; 
 Little heed thou gavest that. 
 
 Though all thy kin went to their grave. 
 Thou didst all that the world thee bade. 
 
 All that the likerous flesh would crave ; 
 And I permitted — I was mad — 
 
 Thee to be master, I thy slave ! " 
 
 i5 
 
THE BODY 
 
 SPEAKS 
 
 THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 *'What, thinkst thou, soul, 'twill help 
 thee aught, 
 
 To clear thyself, whate'er befall. 
 Thou, that wast so nobly wrought. 
 
 To say I made of thee my thrall ? 
 In all my days I ne'er did naught. 
 
 Never plundered, never stole. 
 But first from thee there came the thought; 
 
 Aby it that aby it shall ! 
 
 " How wist I what was wrong or right. 
 
 What to take or what to leave. 
 But as the act thou didst incite. 
 
 Whom nature all the wisdom gave ? 
 In vice accustomed to delight. 
 
 Whene'er some sin thou didst conceive. 
 Then would I strive with all my might 
 
 Once more my wonted way to have. 
 
 [i6] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 '' Hadst thou inured me, lief or loath. 
 
 To suffer hunger, thirst and cold, 
 Chastised and schooled to good and truth. 
 
 In infamy when I was bold. 
 What I had taken up in youth 
 
 I should have kept when I was old; 
 Thou letst me, raking north and south. 
 
 Do all my pleasure, uncontrolled. 
 
 *' To sin, thou knewst, was all my mind. 
 
 For with our race it is but so; 
 To this world all our thoughts inclined. 
 
 And to the fiend that is our foe. 
 It was for thee to beat and bind. 
 
 When I misdid, and do me woe; 
 But when the blind man leads the blind. 
 
 In ditch they fallen, bothe two." 
 
 [ 17] 
 
THE SOUL 
 SPEAKS 
 
 THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 Then began the soul to greet, 
 
 And said, '*Ah, body, to my cost, 
 I loved thee, and to my cheat. 
 
 For all my love on thee w^as lost. 
 Thou love for me didst counterfeit. 
 
 Ever thy dupe I wrs, thou knowst; 
 I did all that to thee w^as sw^eet. 
 
 And thou my traitor ever wast. 
 
 * ' Who can his credulous lord betray. 
 
 Or his fond master undermine, 
 So easily as the servant may 
 
 To whom all charge he doth resign? 
 Thine ease and comfort to purvey, 
 
 Since manhood's growth and strength 
 were thine, 
 I have striven, as in me lay, — 
 
 Thou to bring me to helle-pine. 
 
 [i8] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 '* The fiend of hell, that hath envie 
 
 To mankind, and hath ever had. 
 He was within us as a spie. 
 
 To do some good when I thee bade. 
 The world he took in companie. 
 
 That many a soul had erst betrayed; 
 They two knew well of thy follie. 
 
 And made thee, wretched thing, quite 
 mad. 
 
 '* When I bade thee shrift to make. 
 
 Leave thy sin and almes do. 
 Do thy penance, fast and wake. 
 
 The fiend, he said, 'Thou shalt not so — 
 Thus young thy riot to forsake. 
 
 To liven long in pain and woe; 
 I reed thee that thou merry make. 
 
 And think to live years many mo.' 
 
 [ '9] 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 '* When I bade thee leave thy pride, 
 
 Thy many meats, thy rich array. 
 The false World, that stood beside. 
 
 Bade thee be ever fine and gay — 
 To trick thyself in robes w^ide, 
 
 No beggar's clout, or palmer's gray. 
 High on a palfrey for to ride. 
 
 Attended with a great meyne. 
 
 *' When I bade thee early rise. 
 
 Warily thy soul to keep, 
 Thou saidst thou mightest in no w^ise 
 
 Forego the pleasant morning sleep. 
 When ye w^ere sitting in assise. 
 
 Ye traitors three, w^ell might I weep; 
 Ye led me after your device. 
 
 As the bellwether doth his sheep. 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 * ' When ye three traitors, to my bale 
 
 Combining, were against me sworn, 
 Thenceforth ye made an idle tale 
 
 Of all that I had said beforn. 
 Ye led me round by down and dale. 
 
 As an ox is led by the horn. 
 Till he cometh thither, without fail. 
 
 Where his throte shall be shorn. 
 
 " For love, thy will I did in all. 
 
 And to mine own perdition drew, 
 Following thy lead, that wast my thrall, 
 
 Though false and frivolous through 
 and through. 
 Thou wouldst do and I conceal. 
 
 That it was wrong, full well we knew ; 
 Now must we take what shall befall, 
 
 Torment, shame and sorrow enow. 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 * ' Though all the men beneath the moon 
 
 To speak our doom were set in see, 
 The shames that shullen us be done. 
 
 They could not half imagined be. 
 No wit may serve these shames to shun. 
 
 There helps us now nor prayer nor 
 plea; 
 The helle-hounds are coming soon. 
 
 There is nowhither I may flee." 
 
 When the body saw the ghost 
 All this dole and sorrow make, 
 THE BODY It said, ' ' Too long my life did last, 
 
 SPEAKS 
 
 Which I have lived for sinnes sake! 
 O that my heart anon had brost 
 
 When I was from my mother take ! 
 Then in a pit I had been cast. 
 
 Or lain and rotted in a lake. 
 
 ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 * ' Then had I never known or learned 
 
 What was bad or what was good, 
 For wicked thing had never yearned, 
 
 Nor the torment suffer should 
 Where no saint may take our ernd 
 
 To him that bought us with his blood — 
 In fire of helle to be burned. 
 
 Though Grist had died upon the rood." 
 
 ' ' Nay, body, now it is too late 
 
 For to pray and for to preach. 
 Now the wain is at the gate. 
 
 And thy tongue has lost its speech. 
 One jot of all our pangs to bate 
 
 In all this world there is no leech; 
 We two together go our gate. 
 
 So far God's hard avengements reach. 
 
 [ 23 ] 
 
 THE SOUL 
 SPEAKS 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 "But haddest thou, a little ere 
 
 Our sinful life was wholly spent, 
 While thou layst sick, and death was 
 near. 
 
 Listed to shrive thee and repent, 
 The devil shamed, and dropped a tear. 
 
 With promise of amendement 
 Then we had need to have no fear 
 
 But God his blessing would have sent. 
 
 ' ' Though all the men that are alive 
 
 Were priestes, masses for to sing. 
 Though all the maidens, every wife 
 
 And widow, should their handes wring. 
 Yea, multiply by times five 
 
 All creatures in the world living. 
 Since we no more have time to shrive. 
 
 To bliss they never could us bring. 
 
 [ 2^ ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 * ' Body, I may no longer dwell 
 
 Nor stand here for to speak with thee ; 
 Helle-houndes I hear yell, 
 
 And fiendes mo than man can see. 
 That come to fetchen me to hell; 
 
 I may nowhither from them flee; 
 And thou shalt come, with flesh and fell. 
 
 On doomes-day to be with me." 
 
 The soul these words had scarcely spoke. 
 
 That wist not whither it should go, 
 When with a bound right in there broke 
 
 A thousand devils, and yet mo. 
 Their sharpe claws in it they stoke. 
 
 Exulting, with a loud halloo. 
 And piteously, with many a mock. 
 
 They tugged and toused it to and fro. 
 
 [.5] 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 For they were rough and fierce and 
 tailed, 
 
 With broad bulges on their back. 
 Sharp their clawes, longe nailed, 
 
 There was no limb withoute lack. 
 On every side it was assailed 
 
 By many a devil, foul and black; 
 Crying mercy naught availed 
 
 When God his hard revenge would 
 take. 
 
 Some the jaws wide open wrast 
 
 And poured in the lead all hot. 
 Bade him thereof to drinken fast. 
 
 And skink to all his friends about. 
 A devil came there atte last 
 
 That was the master, well I wot, 
 A glowing colter in him thrast. 
 
 And through the heart the iron smot. 
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 White-hot sword-blades some did set 
 
 To back and breast and either side; 
 In his heart the pointes met, 
 
 And made great gaping woundes 
 wide ; — 
 A pretty sight, not to forget. 
 
 They said, that heart so full of pride. 
 But they had promised more yet. 
 
 And more should presently betide. 
 
 Seemly weeds they must not spare. 
 
 In such he ever would be drest; 
 A devil's mail-coat for to wear. 
 
 All burning, was upon him cast. 
 With red-hot hasps, to fasten fair. 
 
 That sat right close to back and breast; 
 Anon thereto a helmet rare. 
 
 And eek a charger of the best. 
 
 27 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 As a colt for him to ride 
 
 A cursed devil forth they brought. 
 Horribly grinning, yawning wide, 
 
 And flame all flaring from his throat ; 
 With a saddle at mid-side 
 
 Full of sharpe pikes shot. 
 Like a heckle to bestride. 
 
 And all over blazing-hot. 
 
 On that saddle he was slung. 
 
 As if equipped for tournament; 
 A hundred devils at him flung, 
 
 Hither, thither, was he hent; 
 With bote speres stabbed and stung. 
 
 With sharpe hookes rived and rent. 
 At every dint the sparkles sprung, 
 
 As from a blazing fire-brand sent. 
 
 \28] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 When the course was rid and run. 
 
 Upon the saddle ill to praise, 
 To be their fox they cast him down. 
 
 For he had loved the hunt and chase. 
 They set the pack of hell-hounds on. 
 
 To tear him in the hell-ward race; 
 All the road that they had gone 
 
 Was by a track of blood to trace. 
 
 They call to him his horn to blow. 
 
 To tarre on Bauston and Bevis, 
 The brachs that used his voice to know. 
 
 For straightway they should sound the 
 prise. 
 A hundred devils in a row 
 
 Haul him with ropes to an abyss, 
 A hateful hole that gapes alow — 
 
 The pit of hell, I wot, it is. 
 
 [ ^9 ] 
 
THE SOUL 
 SPEAKS 
 
 THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 Arrived at that ill mansion, 
 
 The fiends halloed with such a yell 
 The earth it opened up anon; 
 
 Smoke and smother forth did well; 
 Of the pitch and the brimstone 
 
 For five mile ye might have the smell ; 
 Lord, that man is woe-begone 
 
 That scents far off that loathly dell ! 
 
 When the soul saw in verity 
 
 Where it must go, it raised loud cries: 
 '' On me, thy work, have thou mercy, 
 
 Jesu, that sittest in the skies ! 
 Madest thou not also even me 
 
 With thine own hand, that art so wise. 
 As well as those that are with thee 
 
 In the joy of Paradise P 
 
 [ 3o ] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 '' Thou, that seest all beforn, 
 
 All ends from the beginning knowst, 
 Why madest thou me for wrath and scorn. 
 
 And others of thy bliss to boast ? 
 The souls foredoomed to be forlorn, 
 
 Wretches created to be lost. 
 Why wouldst thou suffer them to be born. 
 
 And give the foul fiend such a hostP" 
 
 Out upon him the fiends gan crie, 
 
 - Caitiff, it helpeth thee no more ™^ °^^^^^ 
 
 ^ SPEAK 
 
 To call on Jesu and Marie, 
 
 Or Gristes mercy to implore. 
 Thou didst forsake such company. 
 
 And long hast served us, and therefor 
 Thou shalt have guerdon faithfully 
 
 Such as thy likes have had of yore." 
 
 [3, ] 
 
THE DEBATE OF THE 
 
 The foul fiends, of their business fain. 
 
 They caught it up by head and feet. 
 And pitcht it down with might and main, 
 
 Down into the devil's pit, 
 Where light of sun shall ne'er be seen ; 
 
 Themselves they sank along with it; 
 Eftsones the earth closed up again. 
 
 Anon the dungeon-door was shut ! 
 
 When it was gone, that foule brood. 
 
 To belle pit, ere it were day. 
 On every hair a drop there stood 
 
 For fright and fear, there as I lay. 
 To Jesu Grist, in humble mood. 
 
 Devoutly I called, expecting aye 
 That presently the fiendes should 
 
 Gome to fetchen me away. 
 
 [3.] 
 
BODY AND THE SOUL 
 
 Grist, that my sins did expiate. 
 
 His grace and mercy I adore. 
 That kept me, sinner, from the hate 
 
 Of many a devil that fearful hour. 
 Them that be sinful I entreat 
 
 To shrive them, and repente sore; 
 Never sin w^as done so great 
 
 That Gristes mercy is not more. 
 
 33 
 
THIS EDITION OF THE DEBATE OF THE BODY AND THE 
 SOUL, MODERNIZED BY FRANCIS JAMES CHILD, WITH AN 
 INTRODUCTION BY GEORGE LYMAN KITTREDGE, CONSISTS 
 OF SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTY COPIES, OF WHICH 
 THIRTY COPIES ARE RESERVED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBU- 
 TION. IT IS SET IN BODONI TYPE BY THE UNIVERSITY 
 PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, AND PRINTED ON ENGLISH HAND- 
 MADE PAPER BY THE COLONIAL PRESS, BOSTON. THE 
 DESIGN IS BY MARION L. PEABODY. PUBLISHED IN THE 
 MONTH OF OCTOBER, 1908. BY R. E. LEE COMPANY, BOSTON. 
 
fgg 
 
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