English literature -- Middle English, 1100-1500; Great Britain -- History -- 14th century -- Sources
16. Oone cubite on hight a wyndo shal thou make;
On the syde a doore, with slyght, beneyth shal thou take;
With the shal no man fyght, nor do the no kyn wrake.
When all is doyne thus right, thi wife, that is thi make,
Take in to the; 140
Thi sonnes of good fame,
Sem, Iaphet, and Came,
Take in also <t>hame,
Thare wifis also thre.
17. For all shal be fordone that lif in land, bot ye, 145
With floodis that from abone shal fall, and that plenté;
It shall begyn full sone to rayn vncessantlé,
After dayes seuen be done, and induyr dayes fourty,
Withoutten fayll.
Take to thi ship also 150
Of ich kynd beestis two,
Mayll and femayll, bot no mo,
Or thou pull vp thi sayll,
18. For thay may the avayll when al this thyng is wroght.
Stuf thi ship with vitayll, for hungre that ye perish
noght.
Of beestis, foull, and catayll, for thaym haue thou in 155
thoght,
For thaym is My counsayll that som socour be soght
In hast.
Thay must haue corn and hay,
And oder mete alway. 160
Do now as I the say,
In the name of the Holy Gast.
19. _Noe._ A! _benedicite!_ what art thou that thus
Tellys afore that shall be? Thou art full mervelus!
Tell me, for charité, thi name so gracius. 165
_Deus._ My name is of dignyté, and also full glorius
To knowe.
I am God most myghty,
Oone God in Trynyty,
Made the and ich man to be; 170
To luf Me well thou awe.
20. _Noe._ I thank The, Lord so dere, that wold vowchsayf
Thus low to appere to a symple knafe.
Blis vs, Lord, here, for charité I hit crafe,
The better may we stere the ship that we shall hafe, 175
Certayn.
_Deus._ Noe, to the and to thi fry
My blyssyng graunt I;
Ye shall wax and multiply
And fill the erth agane, 180
21. When all thise floodis ar past, and fully gone away.
_Noe._ Lord, homward will I hast as fast as that I may;
My <wife> will I frast what she will say,
[_Exit_ Deus.]
And I am agast that we get som fray
Betwixt vs both; 185
For she is full tethee,
For litill oft angré;
If any thyng wrang be,
Soyne is she wroth.
_Tunc perget ad vxorem._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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