 | The Shermen |  |
[Scene I;
The soldiers making ready for the crucifixion.]i Miles.
Pees, barnes and bachillers þat beldis here aboute,
Stirre noȝt ones in þis stede but stonde stone stille,
Or be þe lorde þat I leue on, I schall gar you lowte,
But ȝe spare when I speke youre speche schall I spille
Smertely and sone;
For I am sente fro sir Pilate with pride,
To lede þis ladde oure lawes to abide,
He gettis no bettir bone.
Therfore I comaunde you on euere ilke a side,
Vppon payne of enprisonment þat noman appere
To suppowle þis traytoure, be tyme ne be tyde,
Noght one of þis prees;
Nor noght ones so hardy for to enquere,
But helpe me holly, all that are here,
Þis kaitiffe care to encrees.
Stirre noȝt ones in þis stede but stonde stone stille,
Or be þe lorde þat I leue on, I schall gar you lowte,
But ȝe spare when I speke youre speche schall I spille
Smertely and sone;
For I am sente fro sir Pilate with pride,
To lede þis ladde oure lawes to abide,
He gettis no bettir bone.
Therfore I comaunde you on euere ilke a side,
Vppon payne of enprisonment þat noman appere
To suppowle þis traytoure, be tyme ne be tyde,
Noght one of þis prees;
Nor noght ones so hardy for to enquere,
But helpe me holly, all that are here,
Þis kaitiffe care to encrees.
338
1.
Therfore make rome and rewle you nowe right,
That we may with þis weried wight
Wightely wende on oure waye;
He napped noght of all þis nyght,
And þis daye schall his deth be dight,
Latte see who dare saie naye.
Be-cause to-morne is prouyde
For oure dere Sabbott day,
We wille no mysse be moued,
But mirthe in all þat euere men may.
That we may with þis weried wight
Wightely wende on oure waye;
He napped noght of all þis nyght,
And þis daye schall his deth be dight,
Latte see who dare saie naye.
Be-cause to-morne is prouyde
For oure dere Sabbott day,
We wille no mysse be moued,
But mirthe in all þat euere men may.
2.
We haue bene besie all þis morne
To clothe hym and to croune with thorne,
As falles for a fole kyng;
And nowe me thynkith oure felawes skorne,
They highte to haue ben here þis morne,
Þis faitour forthe to bring:
To nappe nowe is noȝt goode,
We! howe! high myght he hyng!
To clothe hym and to croune with thorne,
As falles for a fole kyng;
And nowe me thynkith oure felawes skorne,
They highte to haue ben here þis morne,
Þis faitour forthe to bring:
To nappe nowe is noȝt goode,
We! howe! high myght he hyng!
ii Miles.
Pees, man, for mahoundes bloode,
Why make ȝe such crying?
3.
i Miles.Why wotte þou noght als wele as I,
Þis carle burde vnto Caluery,
And þere on crosse be done?
ii Miles.
Sen dome is geuen þat he schall dy,
Late calle to vs more companye,
And ellis we erre oure fone.
i Miles.
Oure gere be-houes to be grayde,
And felawes sammed sone,
For Sir Pilate has saide
Hym bus be dede be none.
And felawes sammed sone,
For Sir Pilate has saide
Hym bus be dede be none.
4.
Where is sir Wymond, wotte þou oght?
ii Miles.
He wente to garre a crosse be wroght
To bere þis cursed knave.
339
That wolde I sone wer hyder broght,
For sithen schall othir gere be soght,
That vs be-houes to haffe.
ii Miles.
Vs bus haue sties and ropes,
To rugge hym tille he raue,
And nayles and othir japes,
If we oure selue wille saue.
5.
i Miles.To tarie longe vs were full lathe,
But Wymond come, it is in wathe
But we be blamed all three.
We! howe! Sir Wymond, wayt e[s] skathe.
ii Miles.
We, howe! Sir Wymond, howe?
[Enter Wymond.
iii Miles.
I am here, what saie ȝe bathe,
Why crye ȝe so on me?
I haue bene garre make
Þis crosse, as yhe may see,
Of þat laye ouere þe lake,
Men called it þe kyngis tree.
6.
i Miles.Nowe sekirly I þought þe same,
For þat balke will noman vs blame
To cutte it for þe kyng.
ii Miles.
This karle has called hym kyng at hame,
And sen þis tre has such a name,
It is accordyng thyng,
Þat his rigge on it may reste,
For skorne and for hethyng.
iii Miles.
Me thoughte it semyd beste
Tille þis bargayne to bryng.
7.
i Miles.It is wele warred, so motte I spede,
And it be lele in lenghe and brede,
þan is þis space wele spende.
iii Miles.
To loke þer-aftir it is no nede,
I toke þe mesure or I yode,
Bothe for þe fette and hande.
340
Be-holde howe it is boorede
Full euen at ilke an ende,
This werke will wele accorde,
It may not be amende.
8.
iii Miles.Nay, I haue ordande mekill more,
Ȝaa, thes theues are sente before,
Þat beside hym schall hang;
And sties also are ordande þore,
With stalworthe steeles as mystir wore,
Bothe some schorte and some lang.
i Miles.
For hameres and [for] nayles,
Latte see sone who schall gang.
ii Miles.
Here are bragges þat will noght faile,
Of irnne and stele full strange.
9.
iii Miles.Þanne is it as it aweth to bee,
But whiche of yowe schall bere þis tree,
Sen I haue broughte it hedir?
i Miles.
Be my feithe bere it schall hee
Þat þer-on hanged sone schall bee,
And we schall teeche hym whedir.
ii Miles.
Vppon his bakke it schalle be laide,
For sone we schall come thedir.
iii Miles.
Loke þat oure gere be grayede,
And go we all to-gedir.
| The Shermen | |