The mayde hath brought these men to blisse above;
The world hath wist what it is worth certeyn,
Devocioún of chastitee to love—
Then shewed him Cecilie al open and pleyn,
That alle ydóles are but things in veyn;
For thay be doumb, and therto they be deaf,
And chargeth him his ydoles for to leve.

“Who-so that troweth not this, a beast he is,”
Quoth then Tyburce, “if that I shal not lye.”
And she gan kisse his brest that herde this,
And was ful glad he coude the truthe espye;
“This day I take thee for myn allye,”
Sayde this blisful mayde faire and deere;
And after that she sayde as ye may heere.

“Lo, right so as the love of Crist,” quoth she,
“Made me thy brotheres wyf, right in that wyse
Anon for myn allye heer take I thee,
Since that thou wilt thyne ydoles al despise.
Go with thy brother now and thee baptise,
And make thee clene, so that thou may biholde
The aungeles face, of which thy brother tolde.”

Tyburce answerde, and sayde, “Brother dere,
First tel me whither I go, and to what man.”
“To whom?” quoth he, “com forth with right good chere,
I wil thee lede unto the pope Urbán.”
“Til Urban? brother myn Valirian,”
Quoth Tiburce, “wilt thou me thither lede?
Me thenketh that it were a wondrous dede.

“Meanest thou not that Urban,” quoth he tho,
“That is so ofte damnèd to be deed,
And is in secret hidyng to and fro,
And dare nought ever once putte forth his heed?
Men shold him burnen in a fire so red,
If he were founde, or if men might him spye,
And us also to bere him companye.

“And while we seken this divinitee,
That is i-hyd in heven privily,
Doubtles i-burnt in this world thal we be.”
To whom Cecilie answerde boldely,
“Men mighten dreden wel and skilfully
This lyf to lose, myn oune dere brother,
If here were lyvyng only and no other.

“But ther is better lif in other place,
That never shal be lost, drede thee nought;
Which Goddes sone us tolde thurgh his grace,
The Fathers sone that alle thing hath wrought;
And al that wrought is with a skilful thought,
The ghost that from the father gan procede,
Hath quickened all withouten eny drede.

“By word and miracle high Goddes sone,
When he was in this world, declarèd heere,
That ther was other lyf for meny a one.”
To whom answerde Tyburce, “O sister deere,
Ne seydest thou right now in this manére,
Ther is but one God, one Lord, in sothfastnesse,
And now of three how mayst thou bere witnésse?”

“That shal I telle,” quoth she, “ere that I go.
Right as a man hath sapiences three,
Memorie, skil, and intellect also,
So in one being in divinitee
Three persones doubteless may ther right wel be.”
Then gan she him ful besily to preche
Of Cristes coming, and of his peynes teche,

And many pointes of his passioún;
How Goddes sone in this world long was holde
To do mankynde pleyn remissioún,
That was i-bounde in synne and cares colde.
Al this thing she unto Tyburce tolde,
And after this Tyburce in good entent,
With Valirian to pope Urban he went,

That thankèd God, and with glad hert and light
He cristened him, and made him in that place
Parfyt in al his lernynge, Goddes knyght.
And after this Tiburce gat such grace,
That every day he saw in time and space
The aungel of God, and every maner boon
That he God askèd, it was sped ful soon.

It were ful hard by ordre for to explayne
How many wondres Jhesus for them wroughte;
But atte last, to tellen short and playn,
The sergeants of the toun of Rome them soughte,
And them byfore Almache the perfect broughte,
Which questioned them, and knew alle their entente,
And to the ymage of Jupiter them sente;

And saide, “Who-so wil not here sacrifise,
Swop off his hed, this is my sentence heere.”
Anon these martires, that I you devyse,
One Maximus, that was an officere
Of the prefectes, and his corniculere,
Them took, and when he forth the seyntes ladde,
Himself he wept for pité that he hadde.