The Play of the Sacrament

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Primus Vexillator.
Now þe Father and þe Sune and þe Holy Goste,
That all þis wyde worlde hat wrowght,
Save ⌈all⌉ thes semely, bothe leste and moste,
And bryn[g]e yow to þe blysse þat he hath yow to bowght!
We be ful purposed with hart and with thowght
Off our mater to tell þe entent,
Off þe marvellys þat wer wondursely wrowght
Off þe holi and blyssed Sacrament.

Secundus [Vexillator].
S[o]uereyns, and yt lyke yow to here þe purpoos of þis play
That [ys] representyd now in yower syght,
Whych in Aragon was doon, þe sothe to saye,
In Eraclea, that famous cyté, aryght—
Therin wonneth a merchaunte off mekyll myght,
Syr Arystorye was called hys name,
Kend full fere with mani a wyght,
Full ⌈fer⌉ in þe worlde sprong hys fame.

Primus.

Anon to hym ther cam a Jewe,
With grete rychesse for the nonys,
And wonneth in þe cyté of Surrey—þis full trewe—
Þe wyche hade gret plenté off precyous stonys.

Off þis Cristen merchaunte he freyned sore,
Wane he wolde haue had hys entente.
Twenti pownd and merchaundyse mor
He proferyd for þe Holy Sacrament.

Secundus.

But þe Cristen marchaunte theroff sed nay,
Because hys profer was of so lityll valewe;

An hundder pownd but he wolde pay
No lenger theron he shuld pursewe.

But mor off ther purpos they gunne speke,
The Holi Sacramente for to bey;
And all for þe wolde be wreke,
A gret sume off gold begune down ley.

Primus.

Thys Crysten merchante consentyd, þe sothe to sey,
And in þe nyght affter made hym delyueraunce.
Thes Jewes all grete joye made they;
But off thys betyde a straunger chaunce:

They grevid our Lord gretly on grownd,
And put hym to a new passyoun;
With daggers gouen hym many a greuyos wound;
Nayled hym to a pyller, with pynsons plukked hym doune.

Secundus.

And sythe thay toke þat blysed brede so sownde
And in a cawdron they ded hym boyle.
In a clothe full just they yt wounde,
And so they ded hym sethe in oyle;

And than thay putt hym to a new turmentry,
In an hoote ouyn speryd hym fast.
There he appyred with woundys blody;
The ovyn rofe asondre and all tobrast.

Primus.

Thus in our lawe they wer made stedfast;
The Holy Sacrement sheuyd them grette fauour;
In contrycyon thyr hertys wer cast
And went and shewyd ther lyues to a confesour.

Thus be maracle off þe Kyng of Hevyn,
And by myght and power govyn to þe prestys mowthe,
In an howshold wer conuertyd iwys elevyn.
At Rome þis myracle ys knowen welle kowthe.

Secundus.

Thys marycle at Rome was presented, forsothe,
Yn the yere of our Lord, a thowsand fowr hundder sixty and on,

That þe Jewes with Holy Sa[c]rament dyd woth,
In the forest seyd of Aragon.

Loo, thus God at a tyme shovyd hym there,
Thorwhe hys mercy and hys mekyll myght;
Vnto the Jewes he gan appere
That þei shuld nat lesse hys hevenly lyght.

Primus.

Therfor, frendys, with all your myght
Vnto youer gostly father shewe your synne;
Beth in no wanhope daye nor nyght.
No maner off dowghtys þat Lord put in.

For þat þe dowghtys þe Jewys than in stode—
As ye shall se pleyd, both more and lesse—
Was yff þe Sacrament were flesshe and blode;
Therfor they put yt to suche dystresse.

Secundus.

And yt place yow, thys gaderyng þat here ys,
At Croxston on Monday yt shall be sen;
To see the conclusyon of þis lytell processe
Hertely welcum shall yow bene.

Now Jhesu yow sawe from trey and tene,
To send vs hys hyhe ioyes of hevyne;
There myght ys withouton mynd to mene.
Now, mynstrell, blow vp with a mery stevyn.

Explicit.
Here after foloweth þe Play of þe Conuersyon of Ser Jonathas þe Jewe by Myracle of þe Blyssed Sacrament.
Aristorius Mercator.

Now Cryst, þat ys our Creatour, from shame he cure vs;
He maynteyn vs with myrth þat meve vpon þe mold;
Vnto hys en[d]elesse joye myghtly he restore vs,
All tho þat in hys name in peas well them hold;
For of a merchante most myght therof my tale ys told,

In Eraclea ys non suche, woso wyll vnderstond,
For off all Aragon I am most myghty of syluer and of gold—
For and yt wer a countré to by, now wold I nat wond.

Syr Arystory ys my name,
A merchaunte myghty of a royall araye;
Ful wyde in þis worlde spryngyth my fame,
Fere kend and knowen, þe sothe for to saye,
In all maner of londys, without ony naye,
My merchaundyse renneth, þe sothe for to tell;
In Gene and in Jenyse and in Genewaye,
In Surrey and in Saby and in Salern I sell;

In Antyoche and in Almayn moch ys my myght,
In Braban and in Brytayn I am full bold,
In Calabre and in Coleyn þer rynge I full ryght,
In Dordrede and in Denmark be þe clyffys cold;
In Alysander I haue abundaw[n]se in the wyde world.
In France and in Farre fresshe be my flower[ys],
In Gyldre and in Galys haue I bowght and sold,
In Hamborowhe and in Holond moch merchantdyse ys owrys;

In Jerusalem and in Jherico among the Jewes jentle,
Amo[n]g the Caldeys and Cattlyngys kend ys my komyng;
In Raynes and in Rome to Seynt Petyrs temple,
I am knowen certenly for bying and sellyng;

In Mayn and in Melan full mery haue I be;
Owt of Navern to Naples moch good ys þat I bryng;
In Pondere and in Portyngale moche ys my gle;
In Spayne and in Spruce moche ys my spedyng;
In Lombardy and in Lachborn there ledde ys my lykyng;
In Taryse and in Turkey there told ys my tale;
And in þe dukedom of Oryon moche have I in weldyng:
And thus thorowght all þis world sett ys my sale.

No man in thys world may weld more rychesse;
All I thank God of hys grace, for he þat me sent;

And as a lordys pere thus lyve I in worthynesse.
My curat wayteth vpon me to knowe myn entent,
And men at my weldyng, and all ys me lent
My well for to worke in thys world so wyde.
Me dare they not dysplese by no condescent.
And who so doth, he ys not able to abyde.

Presbyter.

No man shall you tary ne t[r]owble thys tyde,
But euery man delygently shall do yow plesance;
And I vnto my connyng to þe best shall hem guyde
Vnto Godys plesyng to serue yow to attrueaunce.

For ye be worthy and notable in substance of good,
Off merchauntys of Aragon ye have no pere—
And therof thank God þat dyed on þe roode,
That was your makere and hath yow dere.

Aristorius.
Forsoth, syr pryst, yower talkyng ⌈ys⌉ good;
And therfor affter your talkyng I wyll atteyn
To wourshyppe my God that dyed on þe roode,
Neuer whyll þat I lyve ageyn þat wyll I seyn.
But, Petyr Powle, my clark, I praye the goo wele pleyn
Thorowght all Eraclea, that thow ne wonde,
And wytte yff ony merchaunte be come to þis reyn
Of Surrey or of Sabé or of Shelysdown.

Clericus.
At your wyll for to walke I wyl not say nay,
Smertly to go serche at þe waterys syde;
Yff ony plesaunt bargyn be to your paye,
As swyftly as I can I shall hym to yow guyde.
Now wyll I walke by thes pathes wyde,
And seke the haven both vp and down,
To wette yff ony onkowth shyppes therin do ryde
Of Surrey or of Saby [or] of Shelysdown.

Now shall þe merchantys man withdrawe hym and þe Jewe Jonathas shall make hys bost.
Jonathas.

Now, almyghty Machomet, marke in þi magesté,
Whose lawes tendrely I have to fulfyll,

After my dethe bryng me to thy hyhe see,
My sowle for to save yff yt be thy wyll;
For myn entent ys for to fulfyll,
As my gloryus God the to honer,
To do agen thy entent yt shuld grue me yll,
Or agen thyn lawe for to reporte.

For I thanke þe hayly þat hast me sent
Gold, syluer, and presyous stonys,
And abu[n]ddaunce of spycys þou hast me lent,
A[s] I shall reherse before yow onys:
I have amatystys, ryche for þe nonys,
And baryllys that be bryght of ble;
And saphyre semely, I may show yow attonys,
And crystalys clere for to se;

I haue dyamantys derewourthy to dresse,
And emerawdys, ryche I trow they be,
Onyx and achatys both more and lesse,
Topazyouns, smaragdys of grete degré,
Perlys precyous grete plenté;
Of rubés ryche I have grete renown;
Crepawdys and calcedonyes semely to se,
A[nd] curyous carbunclys here ye fynd mown;

Spycys I hawe both grete and smale
In my shyppes, the sothe for to saye,
Gyngere, lycoresse and cannyngalle,
And fygys fatte to plese yow to paye;
Peper and saffyron and spycys smale,
And datys wole dulcett for to dresse,
Almundys and rys, full euery male,
And reysones both more and lesse:

Clowys, greynis, and gynger grene,
Mace, mastyk that myght ys,
Synymone, suger, as yow may sene,
Long peper and Indas lycorys;

Orengys a[nd] apples of grete apryce,
Pungarnetys and many other spycys,—
To tell yow all I haue now, iwyse,
And moche other merchandyse of sondry spycys.

Jew Jonathas ys my name,
Jazon and Jazdon þei waytyn on my wyll,
Masfat and Malchus they do the same,
As ye may knowe yt ys bothe rycht and skyll.
I tell yow all, bi dal and by hylle,
In Eraclea ys noon so moche of myght.
Werfor ye owe tenderli to tende me tyll,
For I am chefe merchaunte of Jewes, I tell yow be ryght.

But Jazon and Jazdon, a mater wollde I mene—
Mervelously yt ys ment in mynde—
Þe beleve of thes Cristen men ys false, as I wene;
For þe beleue on a cake—me thynk yt ys onkynd.
And all they seye how þe prest dothe yt bynd,
And be þe myght of hys word make yt flessh and blode—
And thus be a conceyte þe wolde make vs blynd—
And how þat yt shuld be he þat deyed upon þe rode.

Jason.
Yea, yea, master, a strawe for talis!
That ma not fale in my beleve;
But myt we yt gete onys within our pales,
I trowe we shuld sone affter putt yt in a preve.

Jazdon.
Now, be Machomete so myghty, þat ye doon of meue,
I wold I wyste how þat we myght yt gete;
I swer be my grete god, and ellys mote I nat cheue
But wyghtly the[r]on wold I be wreke.

Masphat.
Yea, I dare sey feythfulli þat ther feyth [ys fals:]
That was neuer he that on Caluery was kyld,
Or in bred for to be blode yt ys ontrewe als;
But yet with ther wyles þei wold we were wyld.

Malchus.
Yea, I am myghty Malchus, þat boldly am byld;
That brede for to bete byggly am I bent.
Onys out of ther handys and yt myght be exyled,
To helpe castyn yt in care wold I counsent.

Jonatas.
Well, syrse, than kype cunsel, I cummande yow all,
And no word of all thys be wyst.
But let us walke to see Arystories hall,
And affterward more counsell among vs shall caste.
With hym to bey and to sel I am of powere prest:
A bargyn with hym to make I wyll assaye;
For gold and syluer I am nothyng agast
But þat we shall get þat cake to ower paye.

Her shall Ser Ysodyr þe prest speke ont[o] Ser Arystori seyng on thys wyse to hym; and Jonatas goo don of his stage.
Presbiter.
Syr, be yowr leue, I may [no] lengere dwell;
Yt ys fer paste none, yt ys tyme to go to cherche,
There to saye myn evynsong, forsothe as I yow tell,
And syth coume home ageyne, as I am wont to werche.

Aristorius.
Sir Isydor, I praye yow wallke at yowr wyll,
For to serfe God yt ys well doune,
And syt com agen and ye shall suppe your fyll,
And walke than to your chamber as ye are wont to doon.

Her shall the marchant men mete with þe Jewes.
Jonatas.
A! Petre Powle, good daye and wele imett!
Wer ys thy master, as I the pray?

Clericus.
Lon[g] from hym haue I not lett
Syt I cam from hym, þe sothe for to saye.
Wat tidyng with yow, ser, I yow praye,
Affter my master þat ye doo frayne?
Haue ye ony bargen þat wer to hys paye?
Let me haue knowlech; I shall wete hym to seyn.

Jhonattas.
I haue bargenes royall and ry[c]h
For a marchaunt with to bye and sell;
In all thys lond is ther non lyke
Off aboundaunce of good, as I will tell.

Her shall þe clerk goon to Ser Aristori, saluting him thus:
Clericus.
All hayll, master, and wel mot yow be!
Now tydyngys can I yow tell:
Þe grettest marchante in all Surré
Ys come with yow to bey and sell:
This tal ryght wele he me told.
Sir Jonatas ys hys nam,
A marchant of ryght gret fame;
He wolld sell yow, without blame,
P[l]enté of clothe of golde.

Aristorius.
Petre Powle, I can þe thanke!
I prey þe rychely araye myn hall
As owyth for a marchant of þe banke;
Lete non defawte be fownd at all.

Clericus.
Sekyrly, master, no m[o]re ther shall!
Styffly about I thynke to stere,
Hasterli to hange your parlowr with pall,
As longeth for a lordis pere.

Here shall þe Jewe merchaunt and his men come to þe Cristen merchaunte.
Jonathas.
All haylle, Syr Aristorye, semelé to se,
The myghtyest merchaunte off Arigon!
Off yower welfare fayn wet wold we,
And to bargeyn with you þis day am I boun.

Aristorius.
Sir Jonathas, ye be wellcum vnto myn hall!
I pray yow come vp and sit bi me,
And tell me wat good ye haue to sell,
And yf ony bargeny mad may be.

Jonathas.
I haue clothe of gold, precyous stons and spycys plenté.
Wyth yow a bargen wold I make—
I wold bartre wyth yow in pryvyté
On lytell thyng, [þat] ye wyll me yt take

Preuely in þis stownd;
And I woll sure yow be thys lyght,
Neuer dystre[n] yow daye nor nyght,
But be sworn to yow full ryght
And geve yow twenti pownd.

Aristorius.
Sir Jonathas, sey me for my sake,
What man[er] of marchandis ys þat ⌈ye⌉ mene?

Jonathas.
Yowr God, þat ys full mytheti, in a cake,
And thys good anoon shall yow seen.

[Aristorius.]
Nay, in feyth, þat shall not bene.
I woll not for an hundder pownd
To stond in fere my Lord to tene;
And for so lytell a walew in conscyen[c]e to stond bownd.

Jonathas.
Sir, þe entent ys, if I myght knowe or vndertake
Yf þat he were God allmyght,
Off all mys I woll amende make,
And doon hym wourshepe bothe day and nyght.

Aristorius.
Jonathas, trowth I shall þe tell:
I stond in gret dowght to do þat dede,
To yow þat dere all for to sell
I fere me þat I shuld stond in drede;
For and I vnto þe chyrche yede,
And preste or clerke myght me aspye,
To þe bysshope þei wolde go tell þat dede
And apeche me of eresye.

Jonathas.
Sir, as for þat, good shyffte may ye make,
And, for a vaylle, to walkyn on a nyght
Wan prest and clerk to rest ben take;
Than shall ye be spyde of no wyght.

Aristorius.
Now sey me, Jonathas, be this lyght!
Wat payment þerfor wollde yow me make?

Jonathas.
Forty pownd, and pay yt ful ryght,
Evyn for þat Lorde sake.

Aristorius.
Nay, nay, Jonathas, there-ageyn;
I w[o]ld not for an hundder pownd.

Jonathas.

Sir, hir ys [yo]wr askyng toolde pleyn,
I shall yt tell in this stownd.

Here is an hundder pownd, neyther mor nor lasse,
Of dokettys good, I dar well saye;
Tell yt ere yow from me passe;
Me thynketh yt a royall araye.

But fyrst, I pray yow, tell me thys:
Off thys thyng whan shall I hafe delyuerance?

Aristori[us].

To-morowe betymes; I shall not myse;
This nyght therfor I shall make purveaunce.

Syr Isodyr he ys now at chyrch,
There seyng hys evynsong,
As yt ys worshepe for to werche;
He shall sone cum home, he wyll nat be long,
Hys sopere for to eate;
And when he ys buskyd to hys bedde,
Ryght sone hereafter he shalbe spedd.
No speche among yow there be spredd;
To kepe yowr toungys ye nott lett.

Jonathas.
Syr, almyghty Machomyght be with yow!
And I shall cum agayn ryght sone.

Arystorius.
Jonathas, ye wott what I haue sayd, and how
I shall walke for that we haue to doun.

Here goeth þe Jewys away and þe preste commyth home.
Presbiter.
Syr, Almyghty God mott be yowr gyde
And glad yow wheresoo ye rest!

Aristorius.
Syr, ye be welcom home thys tyde.
Now, Peter, gett vs wyne of the best.

Clericus.
Syr, here ys a drawte of Romney red,
Ther ys no better in Aragon,
And a lofe of lyght bred—
Yt ys holesom as sayeth þe fesycyon.

Arystorius.
Drynke of, Ser Isoder, and be of good chere!
Thys Romney ys good to goo with to reste;

Ther ys no precyouser fer nor nere,
For all wykkyd metys yt wyll degest.

Presbiter.

Syr, thys wyne ys good at a taste,
And therof haue I drunke ryght well.
To bed to gone thus haue I cast,
Euyn strayt after thys mery mele.

Now, Ser, I pray to God send yow good nyght.
For to my chambere now wyll I gonne.

Aristorius.

Ser, with yow be God almyght,
And sheld yow euer from yowr fone.

Here shall Aristorius call hys clarke to hys presens.

Howe, Peter! In the ys all my trust,
In especyall to kepe my counsell:
For a lytyll waye walkyn I must.
I wyll not be long; trust as I the tell.

Now preuely wyll I preue my pace,
My bargayn thys nyght for to fulfyll.
Ser Isoder shall nott know of thys case,
For he hath oftyn sacred as yt ys skyll.
The chyrche key ys at my wyll;
Ther ys no thyng þat me shall tary,
I wyll nott abyde by dale nor hyll
Tyll yt be wrowght, by Saynt Mary!

Here shal he enter þe chyrche and take þe Hoost.

Ah! now haue I all myn entent;
Vnto Jonathas now wyll I fare;
To fullfyll my bargayn haue I ment,
For þat mony wyll amend my fare,
As thynkyth me.
But now wyll I passe by thes pathes playne;
To mete with Jonathas I wold fayne.
Ah! yonder he commytht in certayn;
Me thynkyth I hym see.

Welcom, Jonathas, gentyll and trew,
For well and trwly þou kepyst thyn howre;
Here ys þe Host, sacred newe,
Now wyll I home to halle and bowre.

Jonathas.
And I shall kepe thys trusty treasure
As I wold doo my gold and fee.
Now in thys clothe I shall the cure
That no wyght shall the see.

Here shall Arystory goo hys waye and Jonathas and hys seruauntys shall goo to þe tabyll þus sayng:
Jonathas.
Now, Jason and Jasdon, ye be Jewys jentyll,
Masfatt and Malchus, that myghty arn in mynd,
Thys merchant from the Crysten temple
Hathe gett vs thys bred that make vs thus blynd.
Now, Jason, as jentyll as euer was the lynde,
Into the forsayd parlowr preuely take thy pase;
Sprede a clothe on the tabyll þat ye shall þer fynd,
And we shall folow after to carpe of thys case.

Now þe Jewys goon and lay the Ost on þe tabyll, sayng:
Jonathas.

Syrys, I praye yow all, harkyn to my sawe!
Thes Crysten men carpyn of a mervelows case;
They say þat þis ys Jhesu þat was attayntyd in owr lawe
And þat thys ys he þat crwcyfyed was.

On thes wordys ther law growndyd hath he
That he sayd on Shere Thursday at hys sopere:
He brake the brede and sayd Accipite,
And gave hys dyscyplys them for to chere:
And more he sayd to them there,
Whyle they were all togethere and sum,
Syttyng at the table soo clere,
Comedite Corpus meum.

And thys powre he gaue Peter to proclame,
And how the same shuld be suffycyent to all prechors;
The bysshoppys and curatys saye the same,
And soo, as I vnderstood, do all hys progenytors.

Jason.
Yea, sum men in þat law reherse another:
They say of a maydyn borne was hee,
And how Joachyms dowghter shuld be hys mother,
And how Gabrell apperyd and sayd ‘Aue’;
And with þat worde she shuld conceyuyd be,
And þat in hyr shuld lyght the Holy Gost.
Ageyns owr law thys ys false heresy,
And yett they saye he ys of myghtys most.

Jasdon.
They saye þat Jhesu to be owr kyng,
But I wene he bowght þat full dere.
But they make a royall aray of hys vprysyng;
And that in euery place ys prechyd farre and nere.
And how he to hys dyscyples agayn dyd appere,
To Thomas and to Mary Mawdelen,
And syth how he styed by hys own power;
And thys, ye know well, ys heresy full playn.

Masphat.
Yea, and also they say he sent them wytt and wysdom
For to vnderstond euery langwage;
When þe Holy Gost to them come,
They faryd as dronk men of pymente or vernage;
And sythen how þat he lykenyd hymself a lord of parage,
On hys fatherys ryght hond he hym sett.
They hold hym wyser þan euer was Syble sage,
And strenger than Alexander, þat all þe worde ded gett.

Malchus.
Yea, yet they saye as fals, I dare laye my hedde,
How they that be ded shall com agayn to Judgement,
And owr dredfull Judge shalbe thys same brede,
And how lyfe euerlastyng them shuld be lent.
And thus they hold, all at on consent,
Because that Phylyppe sayd for a lytyll g⌈l⌉osse—
To turne vs from owr beleve ys ther entent—
For that he sayd, ‘judecare viuos et mortuos’.

Jonathas.
Now, serys, ye haue rehersyd the substance of ther lawe,
But thys bred I wold myght be put in a prefe
Whether þis be he that in Bosra of vs had awe.
Ther staynyd were hys clothys, þis may we belefe;

Thys may we know, ther had he grefe,
For owr old bookys veryfy thus.
Theron he was jugett to be hangyd as a thefe—
Tinctis Bosra vestibus.

Jason.
Yff þat thys be he that on Caluery was mad red,
Onto my mynd, I shall kenne yow a conceyt good:
Surely with owr daggars we shall ses on thys bredde,
And so with clowtys we shall know yf he haue eny blood.

Jasdon.
Now, by Machomyth so myghty, þat meuyth in my mode!
Thys ys masterly ment, thys matter thus to meue:
And with owr strokys we shall fray hym as he was on þe rood,
That he was on don with grett repreue.

Masphat.
Yea, I pray yow, smyte ye in the myddys of þe cake,
And so shall we smyte þeron woundys fyve.
We wyll not spare to wyrke yt wrake,
To prove in thys brede yf þer be eny lyfe.

Malchus.
Yea, goowe to, than, and take owr space,
And looke owr daggarys be sharpe and kene:
And when eche man a stroke smytte hase,
In þe mydyll part thereof owr master shall bene.

Jonathas.
When ye haue all smytyn, my stroke shalbe sene;
With þis same dagger that ys so styf and strong,
In þe myddys of thys prynt I thynke for to prene;
On lashe I shall hyme lende or yt be long.

Here shall þe iiij Jewys pryk þer daggerys in iiij quarters, þus sayng:
Jason.
Haue at yt! Haue at yt, with all my myght!
Thys syde I hope for to sese!

Jasdon.
And I shall with thys blade so bryght
Thys other syde freshely afeze!

Masphat.
And I yow plyght I shall hym not please,
For with thys punche I shall hym pryke.

Malchus.
And with thys augur I shall hym not ease,
Another buffett shall he lykke.

Jonathas.
Now am I bold with batayle hym to bleyke,
Þe mydle part alle for to prene;
A stowte stroke also for to stryke—
In þe myddys yt shalbe sene!
Here þe Ost must blede.
Ah! owt! owt! harrow! what deuyll ys thys?
Of thys wyrk I am in were;
Yt bledyth as yt were woode, iwys;
But yf ye helpe, I shall dyspayre.

Jason.
A fyre! a fyre! and that in hast!
Anoon a cawdron full of oyle!

Jasdon.
And I shalle helpe yt were in cast,
All þe thre howrys fo[r] to boyle!

Masphat.
Ye, here is a furneys stowte and strong,
And a cawdron therin dothe hong.
Malcus, wher ⌈art⌉ thow so long,
To helpe thys dede were dyght?

Malcus.
Loo, here ys fowr galouns off oyle clere.
Haue doon fast! blowe up þe fere!
Syr, bryng that ylke cake nere,
Manly, with all yowre mygthe.

Janathas.
And I shall bryng þat ylke cak
And throwe yt in, I undertake.
Out! Out! yt werketh me wrake!
I may not awoyd yt owt of my hond.
I wylle goo drenche me in a lake.
And in woodnesse I gynne to wake!
I renne, I lepe ouer þis lond.

Her he renneth wood, with þe Ost in hys hond.
Jason.
Renne, felawes, renne, for Cokkys peyn,
Fast we had owr mayster ageyne!
Hold prestly on thys pleyn
And faste bynd hyme to a poste.

Jasdon.
Here is an hamer and naylys thre, I s[e]ye;
Lyffte vp hys armys, felawe, ⌈o⌉n hey,
Whyll I dryue þes nayles, I yow praye,
With strong strokys fast.

Masphat.
Now set on, felouse, with mayne and myght,
And pluke hys armes awey in fyght!
Wat yfe he twycche, felovse, aryght!
Alas, balys breweth ryght badde!

Heres hall thay pluke þe arme, and þe hond shall hang styll with þe Sacrament.
Malchas.
Alas, alas, what deuyll ys thys?
Now hat he but oon hand iwyse!
Forsothe, mayster, ryght woo me is
Þat ye þis harme hawe hadde.

Janathas.
Ther ys no more; I must enduer!
Now hastely to owr chamber lete us gon;
Tyll I may get me sum recuer;
And therfor charge yow euerychoon
That yt be counsell that we haue doon.

Here shall þe lechys man come into þe place sayng:
Colle.

Aha! here ys a fayer felawshyppe,
Thewh I be nat sh[a]pyn, I lyst to sleppe:
I haue a master I wolld he had þe pyppe,
I tell yow in counsel.
He ys a man off all syence,
But off thryffte—I may with yow dyspence!
He syttyth with sum tapstere in þe spence:
Hys hoode there wyll he sell.

Mayster Brendyche of Braban,
I tell yow he ys þat same man,
Called þe most famous phesy[cy]an
Þat euer sawe vryne.
He seeth as wele at noone as at nyght,
And sumtyme by a candelleyt
Can gyff a judgyment aryght—
As he þat hathe noon eyn.

He ys allso a boone-setter;
I knowe no man go þe better;
In euery tauerne he ys detter;
Þat ys a good tokenyng.
But euer I wonder he ys so long;
I fere ther gooth ⌈sumthyng⌉ awrong,
For he hath dysa[rv]yde to be hong—
God send neuer wurse tydyng!

He had a lady late in cure;
I wot be þis she ys full s⌈u⌉re;
There shall neuer Cristen creature
Here hyr tell no tale.
And I stode here tyll mydnyght,
I cowde not declare aryght
My masteris cunyng insyght—
Þat he hat in good ale.

But what deuyll ayleth hym, so long to taré!
A seekman myght soone myscary.
Now alle þe deuyllys of hell hym wari;
God grante me my boon!
I trowe best, we mak a crye:
Yf any man can hym aspye
Led hym to þe pylleri.
In fayth, yt shall be don.

Here shall he stond vp and make proclamacion, seyng thys:
Colle.
Yff ther be eyther man or woman
That sawe Master Brundyche of Braban,
Or owyht of hym tel can,
Shall wele be quit hys med;
He hath a cut berd and a flatte noose,
A therde-bare gowne and a rent hoose;
He spekyt neuer good matere nor purpoose;
To þe pylleré ye hym led!

Master Brundyche.
What, thu boye, what janglest here?

Coll.
A! master, master, but to your reuerence!
I wend neuer to a seen yowr goodly chere,
Ye taréd hens so long.

Master Brundyche.
What hast thow sayd in my absense?

Coll.

Nothyng, master, but to yowr reuerence
I haue told all þis audiense—
And some lyes among.

But, master, I pray yow, how dothe yowr pa[c]yent
That ye had last vnder yowr medycament?

Master Brundyche.
I waraunt she neuer fele anoyment.

Coll.
Why, ys she in hyr graue?

Master Brundyche.
I haue gyven hyr a drynke made full well
Wyth scamoly and with oxennell,
Letwyce, sawge and pympernelle.

Colle.
Nay, than she ys full saue,
For, ⌈now⌉ ye ar cum, I dare well saye
Betuyn Douyr and Calyce þe ryght wey
Dwellth non so cunnyng, be my fey,
In my judgyment.

Master Brundyche.
Cunnyng? Yea, yea, and with pratt[y]ffe;
I haue sauid many a mannys lyfe.

Colle.
On wydowes, maydese and wyfe
Yowr connyng yow haue nyhe spent.

Master Brundyche.
Were ys [my] bowg[e]tt with drynk profytable?

Coll.
Here master, master, ware how ye tugg.
The devyll I trowe within shrugge,
For yt gooth rebyll rable.

Master Brundyche.
Here ys a grete congregacyon,
And all be not hole, without negacyon;
I wold haue certyfycacyon:

Stond vp and make a proclamacion.
Haue do faste, and make no pausa[c]yon,
But wyghtly mak a declaracion
To all people þat helpe w[o]lde haue.

Hic interim proclamacionem faciet.
Coll.
All manar off men þat haue any syknes,
To Master Brentberecly loke þat yow redresse.
What dysease or syknesse þat euer ye haue,
He wyll neuer leue yow tyll ye be in yow[r] graue.
Who hat þe canker, þe collyke, or þe laxe,
The tercyan, þe quartan, or þe brynny[n]g axs—
For wormys, for gnawyng, g⌈r⌉yndy[n]g in þe wombe or in þe boldyro—
All maner red eyn, bleryd eyn, and þe myegrym also,
For hedache, bonache, and therto þe tothache—
The colt-euyll, and þe brostyn men he wyll undertak,
All tho þat [haue] þe poose, þe sneke, or þe tyseke—
Thowh a man w[e]re ryght heyle, he cowd soone make hym sek.
Inquyre to þe colkote, for ther ys hys loggyng,
A lytyll besyde Babwell Myll, yf ye wyll haue und[er]stondyn[g].

Master Brundyche.
⌈Now⌉, yff ther be ether man or woman
That nedethe helpe of a phesyscian—

Coll.
Mary, master, þat I tell can,
And ye wyll vnderstond.

Master Brundyche.
Knoest any abut þis plase?

Coll.
Ye, þat I do, mast⌈r⌉e, so haue [I] grase;
Here ys a Jewe, hyght Jonathas,
Hath lost hys ryght hond.

Master Brundyche.
Fast to hym I wold inquere.

Coll.
For God, master, þe gate ys hyre.

Master Brundyche.
Than to hym I wyll go nere.
My master, wele mot yow be!

Jonathas.
What doost here, felawe? what woldest thu hanne?

Master Brundyche.
Syr, yf yow nede ony surgeon or physycyan,
Off yow[r] dyse[se] help yow welle I cane,
What hurtys or hermes so-euer they be.

Jonathas.
Syr, thu art ontawght to come in thus homly,
Or to pere in my presence thus malepertly.
Voydoth from my syght, and þat wyghtly,
For ye be mysse-avysed.

Coll.
Syr, þe hurt of yowr hand ys knowen full ryfe,
And my maste[r] haue ⌈sauyd⌉ many a manes lyfe.

Jonathas.
I trowe ye be cum to make sum stryfe.
Hens fast, lest þat ye be chastysed.

Coll.
Syr, ye know well yt can nott mysse;
Men that be masters of scyens be profytable.
In a pott yf yt please yow to pysse,
He can tell yf yow be curable.

[Jonathas.]
Avoyde, fealows, I loue not yowr bable!
Brushe them hens bothe and that anon!
Gyff them ther reward þat they were gone!

Here shall þe iiij Jewys bett away þe leche and hys man.
Jonathas.

Now haue don, felawys, and that anon,
For dowte of drede what after befall!
I am nere masyd, my wytte ys gon;
Therfor of helpe I pray yow all.

And take yowre pynsonys þat ar so sure,
And pluck owt the naylys won and won;
Also in a clothe ye yt cure
And throw yt in þe cawdron, and þat anon.

Here shall Jason pluck owt the naylys and shake þe hond into þe cawdron.
Jason.
And I shall rape me redely anon
To plucke owt the naylys that stond so fast,
And beare thys bred and also thys bone
And into the cawdron I wyll yt cast.

Jasdon.
And I shall with thys dagger so stowte
Putt yt down that yt myght plawe,
And steare the clothe rounde abowte
That nothyng therof shalbe rawe.

Masphat.
And I shall manly, with all my myght,
Make the fyre to blase and brynne,
And sett thervnder suche a lyght
That yt shall make yt ryght thynne.

Here shall þe cawdron byle, apperyng to be as blood.
Malchas.
Owt and harow! what deuyll ys herein?
All thys oyle waxyth redde as blood,
And owt of the cawdron yt begynnyth to rin.
I am so aferd I am nere woode.

Here shall Jason and hys compeny goo to Ser Jonathas sayng:
Jason.
Ah! master, master, what chere ys with yow?
I can nott see owr werke wyll avayle;
I beseche yow avance yow now
Sumwhatt with yowr counsayle.

Jonathas.
The best counsayle that I now wott,
That I can deme, farre and nere,
Ys to make an ovyn as redd hott
As euer yt can be made with fere;
And when ye see yt soo hott appere,
Then throw yt into the ovyn fast—
Sone shall he stanche hys bledyng chere.
When ye haue donne, stoppe yt—be not agast!

Jasdon.
Be my fayth, yt shalbe wrowgh[t],
And that anon, in gret hast.
Bryng on fyryng, serys, here ye nowght?
To hete thys ovyn be nott agast.

Masphat.
Here ys straw and thornys kene:
Com on, Malchas, and bryng on fere,
For that shall hete yt well, I wene;
Here þei kyndyll þe fyre.
Blow on fast, that done yt were!

Malchas.
Ah, how thys fyre gynnyth to brenne clere!
Thys ovyn ryght hotte I thynk to make.
Now, Jason, to the cawdron þat ye stere
And fast fetche hether that ylke cake.

Here shall Jason goo to þe cawdron and take owt the Ost with hys pynsonys and cast yt into the ovyn.
Jason.
I shall with thes pynsonys withowt dowt,
Shake thys cake owt of thys clothe,
And to the ovyn I shall yt rowte
And stoppe hym there, thow he be loth.
The cake I haue cawght here in good sothe—
The hand ys soden, the fleshe from þe bonys—
Now into the ouyn I wyll therwith.
Stoppe yt, Jasdon, for the nonys!

Jasdon.
I stoppe thys ovyn, wythowtyn dowte,
With clay I clome yt vppe ryght fast,
That non heat shall cum owtte.
I trow there shall he hete and drye in hast!

Here the owyn must ryve asunder and blede owt at þe cranys, and an image appere owt with woundys bledyng.
Masphat.
Owt! owt! here ys a grete wondere!
Thys ovyn b[l]edyth owt on euery syde!

Malchas.
Yea, þe ovyn on peacys gynnyth to ryve asundre;
Thys ys a mervelows case thys tyde.

Here shall þe image speke to the Juys sayng thus:
Jhesus.

O mirabiles Judei, attendite et videte
Si est dolor sicut dolor meus.

Oh ye merveylows Jewys,
Why ar ye to yowr kyng onkynd,
And [I] so bytterly bowt yow to my blysse?
Why fare ye thus fule with yowre frende?
Why peyne yow me and straytly me pynde,
And I yowr loue so derely haue bowght?
Why are ye so vnstedfast in yowr mynde?
Why wrath ye me? I greve yow nowght.
Why wyll ye nott beleue that I haue tawght,
And forsake yowr fowle neclygence,
And kepe my commandementys in yowr thowght,
And vnto my godhed to take credence?

Why blaspheme yow me? Why do ye thus?
Why put yow me to a newe tormentry,
And I dyed for yow on the crosse?
Why consyder not yow what I dyd crye?
Whyle that I was with yow, ye ded me velanye.
Why remember ye nott my bytter chaunce,
How yowr kynne dyd me awance
For claymyng of myn enherytaunce?
I shew yow the streytnesse of my greuaunce,
And all to meue yow to my mercy.

Jonathas.
Tu es protector vite mee; a quo trepidabo?
O thu, Lord, whyche art my defendowr,
For dred of the I trymble and quake.
Of thy gret mercy lett vs receyue þe showre;
And mekely I aske mercy, amendys to make.

Here shall they knele down all on ther kneys, sayng:
Jason.
Ah! Lord, with sorow and care and grete wepyng
All we felawys lett vs saye thus,
With condolent harte and grete sorowyng:
Lacrimis nostris conscienciam nostram baptizemus!

Jasdon.
Oh thow blyssyd Lord of mykyll myght,
Of thy gret mercy, thou hast shewyd vs þe path,
Lord, owt of grevous slepe and owt of dyrknes to lyght,
Ne grauis sompnus irruat.

Masphat.
Oh Lord, I was very cursyd, for I wold know þi crede.
I can no menys make but crye to the thus:
O gracyows Lorde, forgyfe me my mysdede!
With lamentable hart: miserere mei, Deus!

Malchas.
Lord, I haue offendyd the in many a sundry vyse,
That styckyth at my hart as hard as a core.
Lord, by þe water of contrycion lett me aryse:
Asparges me, Domine, ysopo, et mundabor.

Jhesus.

All ye that desyryn my seruauntys for to be
And to fullfyll þe preceptys of my lawys,

The intent of my commandement knowe ye:
Ite et ostendite vos sacerdotibus meis.

To all yow þat desyre in eny wyse
To aske mercy, to graunt yt redy I am.
Remember and lett yowr wyttys suffyce,
Et tunc non auertam a vobis faciem meam.

No, Jonathas, on thyn hand thow art but lame,
And ys thorow thyn own cruelnesse.
For thyn hurt þou mayest þiselfe blame,
Thow woldyst preve thy powre me to oppresse;
But now I consydre thy necesse;
Thow wasshest thyn hart with grete contrycion;
Go to the cawdron—þi care shalbe the lesse—
And towche thyn hand to thy saluacion.

Here shall Ser Jonathas put hys hand into þe cawdron, and yt shalbe hole agayn; and then say as fo[l]wyth:
Jonathas.

Oh thow my Lord God and Sauyowr, osanna!
Thow Kyng of Jewys and of Jerusalem!
O thow myghty, strong Lyon of Juda,
Blyssyd be the tyme þat þou were in Bedlem!
Oh þou myghty, strong, gloryows, and gracyows oyle streme,
Thow myghty conquerrowr of infernall tene,
I am quyt of moche combrance thorowgh thy meane,
That euer blyssyd mott þou bene!

Alas, þat euer I dyd agaynst thy wyll,
In my wytt to be soo wood
That I so ongoodly wyrk shuld soo gryll!
Aȝens my mysgouernaunce thow gladdyst me with good:
I was soo prowde to prove the on þe Roode,
And þou haste sent me lyghtyng þat late was lame;
To bete the and boyle the I was myghty in moode,
And now þou hast put me from duresse and dysfame.

But, Lord, I take my leve at thy hygh presens,
And put me in thy myghty mercy;
The bysshoppe wyll I goo fetche to se owr offens,
And onto hym shew owr lyfe, how þat we be gylty.

Here shall þe master Jew goo to þe byshopp and hys men knele styll.
Jonathas.
Hayle, father of grace! I knele vpon my knee,
Hertely besechyng yow and interely,
A swemfull syght all for to see
In my howse apperyng verely:
The holy Sacrament, þe whyche we haue done tormentry,
And ther we haue putt hym to a newe passyon,
A chyld apperyng with wondys blody:
A swemfull syght yt ys to looke vpon.

Episcopus.

Oh Jhesu, Lord, full of goodnesse!
With the wyll I walke with all my myght.
Now, all my pepull, with me ye dresse
For to goo see that swymfull syght.

Now, all ye peple that here are,
I commande yow, euery man,
On yowr feet for to goo bare,
In the devoutest wyse that ye can.

Here shall þe bysshope entere into þe Jewys howse and say:

O Jhesu fili Dei,
How thys paynfull passyon rancheth myn hart!
Lord, I crye to the, miserere mei,
From thys rufull syght þou wylt reuerte.
Lord, we all with sorowys smert,
For thys vnlefull work we lyue in langowr;
Now, good Lord, in thy grace let vs be gert,
And of thy souerreyn marcy send vs thy socowr;
And for thy holy grace forgyfe vs owr errowr.
Now lett thy peté spryng and sprede;
Thowgh we haue be vnrygh[t]full, forgyf vs owr rygore,
And of owr lamentable hartys, good Lord, take hed.

Here shall þe im[a]ge change agayn into brede.
Episcopus.

Oh thu largyfluent Lord, most of lyghtnesse,
Onto owr prayers thow hast applyed:
Thu hast receyuyd them with grett swettnesse,
For all owr dredfull dedys þou hast not vs denyed.

Full mykyll owte thy name for to be magnyfyed
With mansuete myrth and gret swettnes,
And as owr gracyows God for to be gloryfyed,
For thu shewyst vs gret gladnes.

Now wyll I take thys Holy Sacrament
With humble hart and gret devocion,
And all we wyll gon with on consent
And beare yt to chyrche with sole[m]pne processyon;

Now folow me, all and summe,
And all tho that bene here, both more and lesse,
Thys holy song, O sacrum Conuiuium,
Lett vs syng all with grett swetnesse.

Here shall þe pryst, Ser Isoder, aske hys master what þis menyth.
[Presbiter.]
Ser Arystory, I pray yow, what menyth all thys?
Sum myracle, I hope, ys wrowght be Goddys myght;
The bysshope commyth processyon with a gret meny of Jewys;
I hope sum myracle ys shewyd to hys syght.
To chyrche in hast wyll I rune full ryght,
For thether, me thynk, he begynnyth to take hys pace.
The Sacrament so semly ys borne in syght,
I hope that God hath shewyd of hys grace.

Arystorius.
To tell yow the trowth I wyll nott lett:
Alas þat euer thys dede was dyght!
An onlefull bargayn [I] began for to beat;
I sold yon same Jewys owr Lord full ryght
For couytyse of good, as a cursyd wyght.
Woo the whyle that bargayn I dyd euer make!
But yow be my defensour in owr dyocesans syght,
For an heretyke I feare he wyll me take.

Presbiter.
For sothe, nothyng well-avysed was yowr wytt;
Wondrely was yt wrowght of a man of dyscrescion
In suche perayle yowr solle for to pytt;
But I wyll labor for yowr absolucyon.

Lett vs hye vs fast that we were hens,
And beseche hym of hys benygne grace
That he wyll shew vs hys benyvolens
To make a menys for yowr trespas.

Here shall þe merchant and hys prest go to þe chyrche and þe bysshop shall entre þe chyrche and lay þe Ost on þe auter, sayng thus:
Episcopus.

Estote forte⌈s⌉ in bello et pugnate cum antico serpente,
Et accipite regnum eternum, et cetera.

My chyldern, ye be strong in batayll gostly
For to fyght agayn the fell serpent,
That nyght and day ys euer besy;
To dystroy owr sollys ys hys intent.
Look ye be not slow nor neclygent
To arme yow in the vertues seuyn;
Of synnys fo[r]gotyn take good avysement,
And knowlege them to yowr confessor full euyn;

For that serpent, the deuyll, ys full strong,
Meruelows myschevos for man to mene;
But that the Passyon of Cryst ys meynt vs among,
And that ys in dyspyte of hys infernall tene.
Beseche owr Lord and Sauyowr so kene
To put doun that serpent, cumberer of man,
To withdraw hys furyous froward doctryn bydene,
Fulfyllyd of þe fend callyd Leuyathan.

Gyff lawrell to that Lord of myght
That he may bryng vs to the joyows fruycion,
Form vs to put the fend to flyght,
That neuer he dystroy vs by hys temptacion.

Presbiter.
My father vnder God, I knele vnto yowr kne,
In yowr myhty mysericord to tak vs in remembrance;
As ye be materyall to owr degré,
We put vs in yowr moderat ordynaunce,
Yff yt lyke yowr hyghnes to here owr greuaunce:
We haue offenddyd sorowfully in a syn mortall,

Wherfor we fere vs owr Lord wyll take vengaunce
For owr synnes both grete and small.

Episcopus.
And in fatherhed that longyth to my dygnyté,
Vnto yowr grefe I wyll gyf credens.
Say what ye wyll, in þe name of þe Trynyté,
Agayn[s]t God yf ye haue wroght eny inconuenyens.

Aristorius.

Holy father, I knele to yow vnder benedycite.
I haue offendyd in the syn of couytys:
I sold owr Lordys body for lucre of mony
And delyueryd to the wyckyd with cursyd advyce.
And for that pres[u]mpcion gretly I agryse
That I presumed to go to the autere
There to handyll þe holy sacryfyce—
I were worthy to be putt in brennyng fere.

But, gracyous lord, I can no more,
But put me to Goddys mercy and to yowr grace:
My cursyd werkys for to restore,
I aske penaunce now in thys place.

Episcopus.

Now for thys offence that þou hast donne
Aȝens the Kyng of Hevyn and Emperowr of Hell,
Euer whyll þou lyuest good dedys for to done
And neuermore for to bye nor sell:
Chastys thy body as I shall the tell,
With fastyng and prayng and other good wyrk,
To withstond the temtacyon of fendys of hell;
And to call to God for grace looke þou neuer be irke.

Also, þou preste, for thy neclygens,
That thou were no wyser in thyn office,
Thou art worthy inpresu[n]ment for thyn offence;
But beware euer herafter and be more wyse.

And all yow creaturys and curatys that here be,
Off thys dede yow may take example
How that yowr pyxys lockyd ye shuld see,
And be ware of the key of Goddys temple.

Jonathas.
And I aske Crystendom with great devocion,
With repentant hart in all degrees,
I aske for vs all a generall absolucion.
Here þe ⌈Juys⌉ must knele al down.
For that we knele all vpon owr knees;
For we haue greuyd owr Lord on grovnd
And put hym to a new paynfull passioun:
With daggars styckyd hym with greuos wo[u]nde,
New naylyd hym to a post and with pynsonys pluckyd hym down.

Jason.
And syth we toke that blyssyd bred so sownd
And in a cawdron we dyd hym boyle,
In a clothe full just we hym wounde
And so dyd we seth hym in oyle.

Jasdon.
And for þat we myght not ouercom hym with tormentry,
In an hott ovyn we speryd hym fast,
There he apperyd with wondys all bloody:
The ovyn rave asunder and all tobrast.

Masphat.
In hys law to make vs stedfast,
There spake he to vs woordys of grete favore;
In contrycyon owr hartys he cast
And ⌈bad⌉ take vs to a confessore.

Malchus.
And, therfor, all we with on consent
Knele onto yowr hygh souereynté,
For to be crystenyd ys owr intent;
Now all owr dedys to yow shewyd haue we.

Here shall þe bysshoppe crysten þe Jewys with gret solempnyté.
Episcopus.
Now the Holy Gost at thys tyme mot yow blysse
As ye knele all now in hys name,
And with the water of baptyme I shall yow blysse
To saue yow all from the fendys blame.
Now, that fendys powre for to make lame,
In þe name of þe Father, þe Son and þe Holy Gost,
To saue yow from the deuyllys flame,
I crysten yow all, both lest and most.

Ser Jonathas.

Now owr father and byshoppe þat we well knaw,
We thank yow interly, both lest and most.
Now ar we bownd to kepe Crystys lawe
And to serue þe Father, þe Son and þe Holy Gost.
Now wyll we walke by contré and cost,
Owr wyckyd lyuyng for to restore:
And trust in God, of myghtys most,
Neuer to offend as we haue don befor.

Now we take owr lea[v]e at lesse and mare—
Forward on owr vyage we wyll vs dresse;
God send yow all as good welfare
As hart can thynke or towng expresse.

Arystorius.

Into my contré now wyll I fare
For to amende myn wyckyd lyfe,
And to kep þe people owt of care
I wyll teache thys lesson to man and wyfe.

Now take I my leave in thys place,
I wyll go walke my penaunce to fullfyll;
Now, God, aȝens whom I haue done thys trespas,
Graunt me forgyfnesse yf yt be thy wyll!

Presbiter.

For joy of thys me thynke my hart do wepe,
That yow haue gyuyn yow all Crystys seruauntys to be,
⌈And⌉ hym for to serue with hart full meke—
God, full of pacyens and humylyté—

And the conuersacion of all thes fayre men,
With hartys stedfastly knett in on,
Goddys lawys to kepe and hym to serue bydene,
As faythfull Crystyanys euermore for to gone.

Episcopus.

God Omnypotent euermore looke ye serue
With deuocion and prayre whyll þat ye may;
Dowt yt not he wyll yow preserue
For eche good prayer þat ye sey to hys pay;
And therfor in euery dew tyme loke ye nat delay
For to serue the Holy Trynyté,

And also Mary, that swete may,
And kepe yow in perfyte loue and charyté.

Crystys commandementys ten there bee;
Kepe well them; doo as I yow tell.
Almyght ⌈God⌉ shall yow please in euery degré,
And so shall ye saue yowr sollys from hell.
For there ys payn and sorow cruell,
And in heuyn ther ys both joy and blysse,
More then eny towng can tell,
There angellys syng with grett swetnesse;

To the whyche blysse he bryng vs
Whoys name ys callyd Jhesus,
And in wyrshyppe of thys name gloryows
To syng to hys honore Te Deum Laudamus.

Finis.

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