Page:Disciplina Clericalis (English translation) from the fifteenth century Worcester Cathedral Manuscript F. 172.djvu/69

  chese of the most Richest; and tho that wern most vile levyng and forsakyng, and in his choise wasted tyme til the day cam, what that he wol do he hid. And vnavised the wacche cam vpon and bihield the thief in the house in cheesyng of the juels and hym with battis, habergeouns, and staves toke and cast hym in diepe prisoun. At the last date as now of his confessioun he herd the bittir stories and sentence of his hede ; whiche if he had bif ore thought of his day so nygh to come, or that shuld have befalle, he wold ban beware that he wold nat have be taken nor have lost his hede."

Another [philosopher] saide: "The Richessis of this world bien transitorie as the dreames of a slepyng man, the whiche wakyng in openyng of his eyen vnrecoverably he hath lost."

"A certain shepherd dreamed he had a thousand sheep. These a certain dealer wishing to buy so that he could sell them at a profit, offered to pay a dollar for each sheep. But the seller demanded a dollar and a quarter. While they were disputing about the price the dream vanished. But when the vender discovered that it was a dream he began to shout, with eyes not yet open: 'Give me a dollar for each and you may take them all with you!'

But while they pursue in this manner the transitory joys of the world and are with gaping mouths trying to secure them, suddenly the approaching day, the final one of life, overtakes them and deprives them willy-nilly of all desired pleasures."

Then the son: "Can we then escape, in any way, our obligations to death?" The father: "Not at all; because its grasp is unavoidable, and we can not even with the skill of the physician escape from its greedy clutches." The son: "How shall we then bear up under this too great suffering?" The father: "Do as a certain poet says: 'Endure with strong heart what you can not shun, so shall what was harsh death be peaceful to you'."

"It is told of a certain philosopher that he saw, as he was passing through an old graveyard, a marble slab placed over the ashes of a certain dead man; but on it were inscribed verses which expressed in the following manner the words of the dead man to passersby: 'Thou who passest by and dost not say, 'Blessed,' pause; keep these words of mine in thy ears and heart: I am what thou wilt be, and what thou now art I was once myself,—a scorner of bitter death who enjoyed happiness while I could. But death coming later I was snatched away from my friends and household, which is now grievously deprived of its father, whom they covered