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The Castell of Perseverance

  
THE CASTLE OF PERSEVERANCE
  
[section]
  
[castlist]

  
THE BANNS
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[section]
 1. 
SCENE I
 2. 
SCENE II
 3. 
SCENE III
 4. 
SCENE IV
 5. 
SCENE V
 6. 
SCENE VI
 7. 
SCENE VII
 8. 
SCENE VIII
 9. 
SCENE IX
 10. 
SCENE X
 11. 
SCENE XI
 12. 
SCENE XII
 13. 
SCENE XIII
 14. 
SCENE XIV
 15. 
SCENE XV
 16. 
SCENE XVI
 17. 
SCENE XVII
 18. 
SCENE XVIII
 19. 
SCENE XIX
 20. 
SCENE XX
 21. 
SCENE XXI
 22. 
SCENE XXII
 23. 
SCENE XXIII

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SCENE XV

[DETRACCIO]
Ad MUNDUM:
Heyl, styf in stounde!
Heyl, gayly gyrt upon grounde!
Heyl, fayre flowr ifounde!
Heyl, Syr Werld, worþi in wedys wonde!

MUNDUS.
Bakbyter in rowte,
Þou tellyst talys of dowte,
So styf and so stowte.
What tydyngys bryngyst þou abowte?

DETRACCIO.
Noþynge goode, þat schalt þou wete.
Mankynd, Syr Werld, hath þe forsake.
Wyth Schryfte and Penauns he is smete
And to ȝene castel he hath hym take
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Amonge ȝene ladys whyt as lake.
Lo, Syr Werld, ȝe moun agryse
Þat ȝe be seruyd on þis wyse.
Go pley ȝou wyth Syr Coyeytyse
Tyl hys crowne crake.

Tunc buccinabit cornu ad AUARICIAM
AUARICIA.
Syr bolnynge bowde,
Tell me why blowe ȝe so lowde!

MUNDUS.
Lewde losel, þe Deuel þe brenne!
I prey God ȝeue þe a fowl hap!
Sey, why letyst þou Mankynd
Into ȝene castel for to skape?
I trowe þou gynnyst to raue.
Now, for Mankynd is went,
Al oure game is schent.
Þerfore a sore dryuynge dent,
Harlot, þou schalt haue.

Tunc verberabit eum
AUARICIA.
Mercy, mercy! I wyl no more.
Þou hast me rappyd wyth rewly rowtys.
I snowre, I sobbe, I sye sore.
Myn hed is clateryd al to clowtys.
In al ȝoure state I schal ȝou store
If ȝe abate ȝoure dyntys dowtys.
Mankynd, þat ȝe haue forlore,
I schal do com owt fro ȝone skowtys
To ȝoure hende hall.
If ȝe wyl no more betyn me,
I schal do Mankynd com out fre.
He schal forsake, as þou schalt se,
Þe fayre vertus all.

MUNDUS.
Haue do þanne, þe Deuyl þe tere!
Þou schalt ben hangyn in hell herne.
Bylyue my baner up þou bere
And besege we þe castel ȝerne
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Mankynd for to stele.
Whanne Mankynd growyth good,
I, þe Werld, am wyld and wod.
Þo bycchys schul bleryn in here blood
Wyth flappys felle and fele.
Ȝerne lete flapyr up my fane
And schape we schame and schonde.
I schal brynge wyth me þo bycchys bane;
Þer schal no vertus dwellyn in my londe.
Mekenes is þat modyr þat I mene,
To hyre I brewe a byttyr bonde.
Sche schal dey upon þis grene
If þat sche com al in myn honde,
Ȝene rappokys wyth here rumpys.
I am þe Werld. It is my wyll
Þe Castel of Vertu for to spyll.
Howtyth hye upon ȝene hyll,
Ȝe traytours, in ȝoure trumpys.

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