And thus the wofull nightes forwe But now hereafter thou fhalte here The night whan he was laid to slepe, O Conftantin, for thou haft ferved And for thy wofull foule alfo. Thou shalt ben hole of bothe two. Where that Silvester and his clergie And haft deftruied to mochel shame Thou shalt have informacion, Such as Silvefter fhall the teche, The nedeth of none other leche. This emperour, whiche all this herde: Graunt mercy lorde, he answerde, But of o thing I wolde pray, Or of your name or of your estre ? And he awoke out of his fweven nd clepeth, and men come anone And tolde his dreme, and therupon n fuche a wife as he hem telleth The mount, wher that Silvefter dwelleth, They have in alle hafte fought, And founde he was, and with hem brought His fweven and elles what he wolde. First how mankinde was forlore, In flesh and blood he fhall reforme, T Whan time cometh, the quicke and dede Where every man fhall take his dome That day may ftonde of no value And thus Silvefter with his fawe nto this hethen emperour nd faith the highe creatour [ath underfonge his charite Of that he wroughte fuche pite, For he that wolde him purifie |