for the honor of her sone. She hathe her owne temple,
|| B.|| that she may be of the ryght hand of her sone.
_Me._ Apon the right hãd. Whiche way dothe her sonne
loke than? _Ogy._ It is well remembryd. Whan he lokythe
to the West, his mother is apõ his right hand, but whã
he turnythe hym to the Este she is apon the lefte hand.
But yet she dwellythe nat in that churche, for it is
nat yet buyldyd all vpe, and the wynde runnythe thorow
euery parte with open wyndowes & dowres, and also nat
ferre of is the Occiane seye father of all wyndes.
_Me._ what doo yow tell me wher dothe she dwell thã?
_Ogy._ In ye same churche whiche I told you was nat all
fynyshyd, ther is a lytle chapell seelyd ouer with
wodde, on ether syde a lytle dore wher ye pylgrymes go
thorow, ther is lytle light, but of ye taperes, with a
fragrant smell. _Me._ All these be mete for religyon.
_Ogy._ Ye Menedemus if you loke within you || wyll say
that it is a seate mete for sayntes, all thynges be so
bright in gold, syluer, and precyous stones. _Me._ You
almost moue me to go thyther also. _Ogy._ It shalnat
repente you of your iornay. _Me._ Spryngithe ther no
holy oyle? _Ogy._ I trowe you dote, that spryngythe nat
but owt of the sepulchres of sayntes, as saynt Andrew,
& saynt Katerê, owr lady was nat beried. _Me._ I graût
I sayd amysse, but tell on your tale. _Ogy._ So moche
more as thay persayue youre deuocyõ, so moche larger
reliques wyl thay shew to you. _Me._ Ye and peraduêture
that thay may haue larger offerynges, as is sayd that,
many lytle offerynges makythe a heuy boxe. _Ogygy._ Her
chaplens be alway at hand. _Me._ Be thay of ye