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A, Bernard, ȝif I teres had,
Nou miȝti wepe al my fille.
Of serwe nas I neuer sad,
Whon I þouȝte on his peynes ille.
Al-hou he was from me lad,
I haue told, and ȝit I wille,
And hou he was in serwe stad

307

And I him folewede wiþ teres grille.
“Þei hudden his eȝen & boffetede him þo
And beden him reden ho hit wore,
And duden hym peynes monie mo,
Þer nis no tonge may telle fore.
Þere stoden my sustren two
Þat hedden loued hym wel ȝore;
Marie Maudeleyn dude also,
Þat trewely louede him in hire lore.
“Hire loue was studefast and trewe,
And I hym louede ful trewelyche.
[Strong] is loue of ffrendes newe,
And of þe Moder nomeliche.
I seiȝ neuere my sone chaungen hewe,
But euere in on, as lomb I-lyche.
Sori þei were alle þat hym knewe,
And wepte for him, boþe pore & riche.
“ffrom Cayphas paleis þei him drouh
Riht to Pilate, my sone to spille.
He criȝede not, as men duden him wouȝ,
He eode wiþ hem wiþ gode wille,
Euere he was Meke I-nouȝ
And heold him boþe clos and stille.
Pilat wolde not þat þei hym slouh,

308

In his dedes he fond non skille.
“Þei stripte hym þat ilke stounde,
To a piler bounden him þat day,
And beoten him whil þei warm him founde.
Þen was my song weilaway!
ffour þousend & fyf hundred wounde
Þei maden on him, for soþe to say,
And seiden on skorn vppon þe grounde:
‘Þi prophecye helpe þe ne may.’
“Mi leue Bernard, gret was my care
Whon þei criede wel faste in on:
‘Do Ihesu on þe Crois ful [ȝare]
And dilyuere vs Barraban!’
Goddes sone to Iugge þare
And leten a þef to lyue gon,
Bernard, þis was a sori fare,
Such dom hedde neuer no mon!
“Þus þe Iewes steorne and stoute
Mi sone hedden in hard bonde.
Pilate hedde of hem more doute
Þan he hedde of godes sonde:
Þat was I-sene, he ladde him oute
And dude him to þe Iewes honde.
Þe Iewes þrongen him a-boute,
And I for serwe mihte not stonde.

309

“Whon he was dempt and out sent,
Alle þei duden hym gret dispite.
He nom þe Cros and forþ [he] went,
Wiþ wraþþe þei driuen him, muche & lyte.
Allas þat lomb [þat] Innocent!
Wolues wolde him sore a byte.
Þe care was at myn herte lent,
Mi serwe mihte no mon wyte.
“I suwede, & swouhnede mony a siþe,
Mi sustren comen a-bouten me;
I spac to him as I miȝte kiþe,
Whon I him for pres mihte se.
Mi sone hiȝede him wel blyue
And bar him-self þat heui tre,
And let me beo be-hynde vnbliþe:
Bernard, þen gomede me no gle.”