University of Virginia Library

[Scene III,

The heights of Heaven.]
i Angelus.
Jesu, lorde and heuene-is kyng,
Here is þi modir þou aftir sente,
We haue her brought at þi biddynge,
Take hir to þe as þou haste mente.

Maria.
Jesu, my sone, loved motte þou be,
I thanke þe hartely in my þought
Þat þis wise ordandis for me,
And to þis blisse þou haste me broght.

Jesus.
Haile! be þou Marie, maiden bright,
Þou arte my modir and I thy sone,
With grace and goodnesse arte þou dight,
With me in blisse ay schall þou wonne.
Nowe schall þou haue þat I þe hight,
Thy tyme is paste of all þi care,
Wirschippe schall þe aungellis bright,
Of newe schall þou witte neuere more.

Maria.
Jesu my sone, loued motte þou be,
I thanke þe hartely in my þoȝt,
Þat on þis wise ordandis for me,
And to this blisse þou has me broght.

Jesus.
Come forth with me, my modir bright,
In-to my blisse we schall assende,
To wonne in welthe, þou worþi wight,
That neuere more schall it haue ende.
Thi newis, modir, to neuen þame nowe,
Are turned to joie, and soth it is,
All aungellis bright þei schall þe bowe,
And worschippe þe worþely i-wis.
For mekill joie, modir, had þou,
Whan Gabriell grette þe wele be þis,
And tolde þe tristely for to trowe,
Þou schulde consayue þe kyng of blisse.

i Angelus.
Nowe maiden meke and modir myne,
Itt was full mekill myrþe to þe,
Þat I schulde ligge in wombe of þine,
Thurgh gretyng of an aungell free.

ii Angelus.
The secounde joie modir was syne,
With-outen payne whan þou bare me.

iii Angelus.
The thirde aftir my bittir peyne,
Fro dede on lyve þou sawe me be.

iv Angelus.
The fourthe was when I stied vppe right,
To heuene vnto my fadir dere,
My modir, when þou saugh þat sight,
To þe it was a solas seere.

v Angelus.
Þis is þe fifte, þou worthy wight,
Of þe jois þis has no pere,
Nowe schall þou belde in blisse so bright,
For euer and ay, I highte þe here.

vi Angelus.
For þou arte cheffe of chastite,
Off all women þou beris þe floure,
Nowe schalle þou, lady, belde with me,
In blisse þat schall euere in-dowre.

i Angelus.
Full high on highte in mageste,
With all worshippe and all honnoures,
Wher we schall euere samen be,
Beldand in oure bigly boures.

ii Ang.
Alle kynnys swetnesse is þer-in,
Þat manne vppon may thynke, or wiffe,
With joie and blisse þat neuere schall blynne,
Þer schall þou, lady, lede thy liffe.

iii Angelus.
Þou schalte be worshipped with honnoure
In heuene blisse þat is so bright,
With martiris and with confessouris,
With all virginis, þat worthy wight.

[Jesus.]
Be-fore all oþere creatours
I schall þe giffe both grace and might,
In heuene and erþe to sende socoure,
To all þat seruis þe day and nyght.
I graunte þame grace with all my myght,
Thurgh askyng of þi praier,
Þat to þe call be day or nyght,
In what disease so þat þei are.
Þou arte my liffe and my lekyng,
Mi modir and my mayden schene,
[Placing the crown on Mary's head.
Ressayue þis croune, my dere darlyng,
Þer I am kyng, þou schalte be quene.
Myne aungellis bright, a songe ȝe singe,
In þe honnoure of my modir dere,
And here I giffe ȝou my blissing,
Haly nowe, all in fere.