The poems of Walter Kennedy (1902)

Kennedy, Walter (ca. 1460-ca. 1508)

[section]

PIOUS COUNSALE.

ANE AIGIT MANIS INVECTIVE AGAINST MOUÞ ÞANKLESS.

THE PRAISE OF AIGE.

ANE BALLAT IN PRAISE OF OUR LADY.

THE PASSIOUN OF CHRIST.

PROLOGUE.

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PIOUS COUNSALE.

I

LEIFF luif, my luif, no langir I it lyk,
Altir our amowris in to observance;
Eschew þe sword of vengence, or it stryk;
Oure lust, and plesance turne we in pennance;

Of misdeidis mend; of kissing mak conscience.
Confess our sinnis, and Sathanas oursett;
Puneis oure flesche for oure grit offence;
Haif eye to God, and brek þe Divellis nett.

II

Voluptuous lyfe, quhy þinkis þow so sweit,
Knawing þe deiþe þat no man may evaid?
Syne persaveris in fleschelie lust and heit,
Now sawis may þe frome þy synnis dissuaid,
Contempning God, of nocht þat hes þe maid;
Trusting into þis brukill lyfe and vane;
Repent in tyme, devoid þe of þis laid,
And knaw in hell þair is eternall pane!

ANE AIGIT MANIS INVECTIVE AGAINST MOUÞ ÞANKLESS.

I

Ane aigit man, twyss fourty yeiris,
Eftir þe haly dayis of Yule,
I hard him say, amangis þe Freiris
Of Ordour Gray, makand grit dule,
Rycht as he wer a furiuss fule,
Oft syiss he sicht, and said, Allace!
Be Chryst, my cair ma nevir cule,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless!

II

Þroch ignorance and foly youþ
My preterit tyme I wald nevir spair,
Plesans to put in to þat mowþ,
Quhill Eild said, Fule, latt be þy fair:
And now my heid is quhyt and hair,
For feding of þat fowmart face,
Quhairfoir I murn bayþ laitt and air,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless.

III

Gold and silver that I micht gett,
Brochis, beisandis, robbis and ringis,

Frely to gife I wald nocht lett,
To pleiss þa mullis attour all þingis.
Rycht as þe swan for sorrow singis
Befoir hir deid ane littell space,
Rycht so do I, and my handis wringis,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless.

IV

Bettir it war ane man to serf,
Wiþ wirchep and honour undir a scheild,
Nor hir to pleiss, þocht þow suld sterf,
Þat will nocht luke on þe in eild.
Fra þat þow haif no hair to heild
Thy heid fra harmyng þat it hess,
Quhen pen and purss and all is peild,
Tak þair a meiss of Mowþ-þankless.

V

And in example it may be sene,
Þe grund of trewþ quha vndirstude,
Fra in þy bag þow beir þyne ene,
Þow gettis no grace, bott for þy gud,
At Venus closet, for to conclude;
Call ye nocht þiss ane kankert caiss?
Now God help, and þe Haly Rude,
And keip all men fra Mowþ-þankless.

VI

O brukill yowþ, in tyme behald,
And in þyne hairt þir wirdis graif,
Or þy complexioun gadder cald,
Amend þy miss, þy self to saif,

Þe hevynis bliss gif þow wilt haif,
And of þy gilt remit and grace.
All þis I hard ane auld man raif,
Eftir þe Yule, of Mowþ-þankless.

[Finis]

quod Kennedy.

THE PRAISE OF AIGE.

I

At matyne houre, in middis of þe nicht,
Walknit of sleip, I saw besyd me sone
Ane aigit man, semit sextie ȝeiris of sicht,
Þis sentence sett, and sang it in gud tone:
“Omnipotent and eterne God in throne!
To be content and lufe þe I haif causs
Þat my licht ȝowþ-heid is ourpassit and done:
Honor wiþ aige to every vertew drawis.”

II

Grene ȝowþ! to aige þow mon obey and bow,
Þy foly lustis lestis skant ane May;
Þat þan wes witt, is naturall foly now,
As warldly honor, riches, or fresche array.
Deffy þe devill, dreid God and domisday.
For all sall be accusit, as þow knawis;
Blissit be God, my ȝuthheid is away:
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis.

III

O bittir ȝowth, þat semis so delicious!
O swetest aige, þat sumtyme semit soure!
O rekless ȝowth, hie, hait, and vicious!
O halie aige, fullfillit with honoure!
O frawart ȝowthe, fruitless and fedand flour,
Contrair to conscience, laith to God and lawis,
Off all vane gloir the lamp and the mirrour!
Honor with aige to every vertew drawis.

IV

Þis warld is sett for to dissaive wss evin,
Pryde is þe nett, and covetece is þe trane;
For na reward, except þe joy of hevin,
Wald I be ȝung into þis warld agane.
Þe schip of faiþ tempestous wind and rane
Dryvis in þe see of Lollerdry þat blawis;
My ȝowþ is gane, and I am glaid and fane:
Honor wiþ aige to every vertew drawis.

V

Law, luve, and lawtie, gravin law þay ly;
Dissimvlance hes borrowit conscience clayis;
Aithis, writt, walx, nor seilis ar nocht set by;
Flattery is fosterit baith with freindis and fayis.
Þe sone, to bruike it þat his fader hais,
Wald se him deid; Saþanas sic seid sawis.
Youþheid, adew, ane of my mortall fais:
Honour wiþ aige to every vertew drawis.

Finis.

Q. Kennedy.

ANE BALLAT IN PRAISE OF OUR LADY.

I

Clostir of Christ, riche recent flour-de-lyss,
Ave Maria, herbar of amouris!
Princess of hevyn, hell, erd, and paradyss,
Þat baþis our blak syn wiþ þy balmy schouris,
Nuryss to God, and modir of favouris
To leper, leche, cruikit, blynd, deif, and dum,
Þe all þe ordouris of hevyne honouris,
Sancta Maria, Virgo virginum!

II

Protectrix till all pepill penitent,
Þe beriale bosome, þat our bliss in bred,
Sched betuix synnaris and Godis jugement,
Schawand þy Son þe sweit palpis þat him fed,
Prayand him for þe precious blud he bled,
Us to forgeif of our gret trespass;
Þy corps was nevir wiþ corruptioun cled,
Sancta et immaculata virginitas!

III

Revar of grace, þat sall us all releif,
Above Natur consavit God and Man;
Our heretage þat Adam tynt, and Eif,
Þow conquest newe, ourcome þe Devill and wan!

Blist be þow Mary, and þy modir An,
And Joachim þat generit þe [also;]
For till exalt þy name quha may or can?
Quibus te laudibus referam nescio.

IV

Þe modir se, fludis, lochis, and wellis,
War all þir ynke, and quyk and deid couþ wryte,
Þe hevyne stellat, planetis, montanis and fellis,
War fair perchiament, and all as Virgillis dyte,
And plesand pennis for to report perfyte
War woddis, forestis, treis, gardingis and gravis,
Couþ nocht discryve þy honouris infinit!
Speciosa facta es et suavis.

V

Onely abone all virginis þow had hap,
To consaif be þe Haly Gaist, I grant;
Sanct Jhone joyit in his modiris wame and lap,
Quhen þow spak wiþ Elizabeþ þy ant;
Þow was ay meike, but vane glore, pryd, or want,
Sibilla said, alss Balaam and Sanct Dave;
Þarfore Christ chesit þy wame his house and hant,
Dominus sit tecum, gracia plena Ave!

VI

Ruby of reuþ, riche lass, and hevinnis gem,
Blenke up wiþ þy eyne of grace owt of þe est;
Supposs all Sanctis our synfull prayer contempne,
Þyne eres are ay opyn at our requesst;

Now for þe speir þat Longius set in rest,
And persit þy sonnis preciouss hert for us,
Þow bring us to þe joye þat nevir is cest,
Benedicta tu in mulieribus!

VII

Blist be þy hair, hed, eyne, face and neiss!
Blist be þy halss, breist bane, bak and rib!
Blist be þy palpis þat couþ þy sone appleiss!
Blist be þy handis þat wande him in þe crib!
Blist be þy sydis, and wame þat maid us sib
To Christ! Blist be þy body all forþy!
Blist be þy blude, þat come of Josues trybe!
Et benedictus fructus ventris tui.

VIII

Þocht we brek vowis, prayeris, pilgrimage and hechtis,
To þe, Rosare, and rute of our remeid,
For us, fair Lady, wiþ þe Devill þow fechtis,
And standis full neir us in þe hour of deid;
Saifand our sawlis frome þe playand leid
Of hell, quhair it servit to be tane to;
Syne stowis us saifly in to Angellis steid.
Cum Jhesu Christo filio tuo!

IX

Beseike þy Sone, þat for me gaf na pryce
Of riche gold, bot þe reid blude of his hert,
To purge me of my gret trespass and vyce,
And clenge my saull fra lipper syne inwart;

And grant þat of þe hevin I may haif part,
Þrow þy request, Mary, as wele þow can!
Sen hale supple to Kennedy þow art,
O mater Dei, memento mei, þy man!

THE PASSIOUN OF CHRIST.

PROLOGUE.

I

Hail, Cristin Knycht! Haill, etern confortour!
Haill, Riall King, in trone celistiall!
Haill, Lampe of Licht! Haill, Jhesu Saluitour,
In Hevin empire Prince perpetuall!
Haill, in distres Protectour principall!
Haill, god and man, borne of a virgin cleyne!
Haill, boist of balme, spilit within my splene!

II

Haill, in my Hert with Lufe wippit Intern!
Haill, spice of taist, to heir sueit sympheony!

Haill, silk to graipe, to sicht rycht lycht in dern,
To feit futebrode! Haill, gide to gude herbry!
Haill, dern closit till woundit and very!
Haill, bed till rest! Haill, saulis habitakill!
Haill, beyme to skaill of ded þe dirk vmbrakill!

III

In till oure Hert, quhill þou art herbriour,
We ar wiser þan wes King Salomone;
Throu spirituall pith moir potent protectour,
Stranger þan Hectour, Judas, or Sampson;
Farar be fer þan ever wes Absalon;
Richer in grace þan Alexander þe Gret;
Waldin as wynd, be grace eth for to tret.

IV

Fra þou disluge for our iniquite,
We ar waker þan ever wes Fermilus,
Quhilk wes all mait, be gret infirmite;
Als lazar than ever wes Lazarus;
As struttioun stif, as tigar tiranus;

Mair pure of gude þan wes Diogynes;
Wilder in wit than Nabell Carnales.

V

Thus to þe saule sen life is [þi] presence,
Off the is gude to haue possessioun;
Quhilk may nocht be bot [we] with deligence
Baith nycht and day remember þi passioun;
And of þi glore sall haue fruicioun
Bot he þat studyis heirefter his estait,
Thy cruell deid with piete to regrait.

VI

But now, allace! men ar mair studyus
To reid the Seige of þe toun of Tire,
The Life of Tursalem, or Hector, or Troylus,
The vanite of Alexanderis empire;
Bot quhen þe warld sall all birn in a fire,
Than wane storyis sall mak na remeid,
Bot all thair helpe man cum þrou Cristis deid.

VII

Bot sen our natour is of sic a kind,
That euer it seikis consolacioun,
He is maist wise þat dalie hes in mynd,
Himself to keip in occupacioun;
Quhairon þe spirit hes delectacioun,
Profit to þe saule, his God worschip and dreid,
Confort þe hert, but lesing of his meid.

VIII

Bot sen mony in will ar rycht mychty,
Quhilk in deid ar pure be Ignorance,
Throu helpe of Him quhilk deit on þe tre,
In inglis toung I think to mak remembrance
How God maid man; how man fell throu myschance;
Syne, how greit pyne sustenit for his synne
The Sone of God, or he wald succour him.

IX

In [this] process I think als coumonly
For till exclud all curiosite,
Maist plane termes with deligence to spy,
Quhilk may be tane with small deficulte;
Bot gif me causs instant necessitie
Termes to find, quhilk hes na ganand sound,
That þaim till hide, the better wald confound.

X

Be naturall gift nane to þe end may bring
Gude purpois tane, bot [he] him gid with grace,
In quhilk of natour hes sober conforting,
The help of him in caussis in þis caiss;
Quhilk for my saule þe bitter deid can bras
Apoun þe croce, in price of his ransoun;
Sa, in þis hope, my purpois now I foune.

EXPLICIT PROLOGUS.

INCIPIT PASSIO.

I

God of his grace and gudness infinit
Sa nobill maid þe man, his creatour,
That of himselfe [he] knawlage had perfite,
Als of his Godheid, and vthir creatur;
Throu grace of God, nocht of his awin natour,
He micht haue stand quhill God to grace him brocht,
But pane, or dreid; but he vnwislie wrocht.

II

He wrocht vnwise, allace! throu Lucifeir,
Quhilk causit him to dissobey his king,
Quhen he till Eue as sserpent couth appeir,
And causit hir þe appill for to bring

To fader Adam, that he mycht, throw taisting
Off þe appill, be lik to God, and kend
Baith gude and Ill; bot þat wes nocht þe end.

III

The end wes war, for þan banist he wes
Be þe angell, and put out of paradice,
He and his seid, euer in þis warld to pass,
Wanderand in wa, as man in nycht glaidles;
In cauld and heit his neidis to purches;
As woundit wycht in natour bair of grace,
Put to þe horn, exilit fra Goddis face.

IV

Silit he wes vnder schaddew of syn,
Quhilk him deput euer with deid to duell,
As bandonit knycht, and till law bundin,
Heir to thoile reist, syne fechit be to hell;
He had no mycht fra him for to appeill,
For perty wes the Prince of maist poweir,
Eternall God quhilk had him presoneir.

V

Fra he wes presonit yeris mony ane
As Goddis fa, closit within myrknes,
Marcy and Piete maid ane full hevy mane

That þai wer tynt, for mankind gat na grace;
In hevin empire, befor the Faderis face
Thai apperit, allegeand as for þame,
That be þair law man suld be fred fra pane.

VI

Thair allegence Justice and Verite
Affermit nocht; þairfor, befor þat king,
Thai allegit for þame rycht constantlye,
That be thair law Adam and his offspring
Eternalie suld be banist his rigne,
God infinit becaus he had offende;
Efter thair law his pane suld neuer end.

VII

Than þe Fader, all richtuis Lord,
Gaif till his Sone to pas commandement,
In thair debait be him to mak concord:
And he richt sone schew him his sentement,
Sayand: Ane deid sall mak you baith content,
And bring Adam till peace with all his seid,
That me will worship baith in word and deid.

VIII

Than God þe angell send in þe ciete
Off Nazareth to Mary the virgin,
Quhilk halsit hir with reverence and piete,
Sayand: Haill, sueit angelicall Regin!
God hes the chosin to be baith rute and ryn
For mannis peace, for þou a sone sall beir,
Callit Jhesu, thairfor be nocht affeir.

IX

Fra scho contentit to beir þe Prince of Price,
The Haly Gaist schane in hir tabernakill,
Hes in hir spred þat riall flour-de-lice,
Quhilk resauit ane man to reabill;
But seid of man þis Virgin permanable
The Sone of God consauit into haist
Be subtell wirking of þe Haly Gaist.

X

Than but delay scho went vnto þe montane,
Quhair duelling maid hir tender cousingnes,
Apoun hir fute, thoucht scho had gret pane,
Scho fenȝeit nocht þat hevy way to pas.
Hir first scho halsit, thoucht scho mar worthy wes,
Syne with hir baid þe space of monethis thre,
Hirself exersand in humilite.

XI

This worthy Lady, but mannis syne bur a child,
Till angell glore, till synnar salvatour,
Till feind a fa, a freind to saule exild,
Till hungry meit, till thristy sweit licoure,
Till blind þe sycht, to will a herbrour,
Till dede þe life, till pure þe riche Lord,
Till seik þe heill, till life scho bure concord.

XII

Efter aucht dais of his nativite
He sched his blude in circumcisioun;
For mannis saule thir arlis offerit he,
Quhill he be his ded þe saule price laid doun.
This fair ȝoung Prince, of all our glore þe crown,
Schew intill ded þat he his pepill lude,
That for thair saik sa sone he sched his blude.

XIII

The Kingis thre he giddit be ane sterne
Out of þe est, in haist to Bathelem;
In þe stabill þai fand the bony barne
With his moder, in [þe] cribe allane.
For his powerte, the kingis thocht na schame
Till knell on kne, and him adore as king,
As of gold, sens, mire, to mak offering.

XIV

In [till] the tempill his moder [did] him [bring],
As wes þe Law that tyme intill Jowry,
Off all þe warld thocht he wes Lord and King;
Off dowis twa his offerand þan maid he.
Auld Symeoun desirit for to de,
Fra he had sene þat nobill Prince and King,
Quhilk be his ded suld men fra torment bring.

XV

This gracius prince Herod trowit suld ringe
Oure all Jowry, for Symeoun þe ald,

The gentill licht till Iserall þe king,
Had him before into þe tempill tauld.
Thair he send his men of armes bald,
In Bathelem all innocentis thai slew,
For he þe Prince, quhilk king suld be, misknew.

XVI

Bot God him knew to rigne as maist worthy,
Thairfor till Josaphe he ane angell send,
Quhilk said in haist: þe barne tak and Mary,
Syne with þaim baith in Egipt sone þou wend.
Thoucht he wes pure and littill had till spend,
Without delay he wes obedient,
[And vnto Egipt on his way he went.]

XVII

Ȝeris seven fra he had dwelling maid
Intill Egipt, agane come þe angell,
Sayand: Josaphe, se þou, but mair abaid
Pass to þi hame, þe land of Iserall:
God hes me send agane, þe for to tell,
That þai ar ded quhilk wald þe barne haue slane.
In Nazareth thus are þai cumin agane.

XVIII

Mair of his life, vnto the twelft ȝeir,
The Ewangellis makis no mencioun[age];
Bot vthir said, þat with his moder deir
In Nazareth he maid his hantage,
Hir and Josaphe seruand in gret [homage],

Thoucht þai wer pure, and he a riche Lord;
As Lendulphus and vtheris can record.

XIX

Fra of his age XII ȝeris wer cumin,
All to þe ciete in tyme of pasche þai went;
Thair wes he tynt, syne in the tempill fundin,
Amang the doctouris halding argument:
His moder said: Sueit Sone, thou hes ws schent;
For we the soucht with gret dollour and pane,
Bene neir our hame, syne turnit heir agane.

XX

Agane with þame as subiet is he gane,
Thoucht he wes Sone and Prince to God eterne,
Makand his duelling intill ane sempill hame,
Kenand þe man all prid for till disperne;
Bot will þow leir, þou mone behald þe sterne,
That schane sa lang in clud of his manheid,
Or he exceid þe micht of his Godheid.

XXI

Neir thretty ȝer fra [he] had maid duelling
With his moder, as sempill seruitour,
He thocht it tyme to schaw Lord and King,
Send fra þe hevin the tynt man to recure;
He tuke his leife, and to floun Jordane fure,

Baptist wes thair, thocht he was cleyne of syn,
Kenand all man with meiknes hevin to wyn.

XXII

In þe desert vnto þe fourty day
But meit or drink he keipit abstinence;
He hungerit syne to schaw him man werray;
Him for to tempe þe feind did deligence;
Bot his angellis keipit him in reuerence,
Sarwand þat sweit rycht as þair awne souerane.
He gat discipillis, syne ȝeid in plane.

XXIII

Thoucht all my hare wer hertis for to think,
And all my juntis sang with angellis stewin,
And I mycht leif but sleip, meit or drink,
Off þi panis I couth [nocht] schaw þe sevint,
Quhilk þou sustenit to bring me to þe Hevin,
In cauld and hunger rynand throw slik and clay,
Or thow tholit ded apoun þe gude friday.

XXIV

Thairfor I hald me bund till ignorance
To tell þe teind of þi aduersite;
Bot of [þi] life a gentill rememberance
May mak mencioun þat in þai Ȝeris thre,
Quhilk thow prechit, schew ay sic cherite,
That gud for ewill elik þou wes doand,
Raissand þe ded, þai to slay þe seikand.

XXV

Syne [tyme] drew neir þat he wald offerand mak
Off his body, for ws banist of blis;
With Moses and Elias first he spak
Intill Tabor, for þai wer twa witnes
That he wes Crist, hecht till al faderis,
Quhilk in þe Lymbe lay, cryand day and nycht
Up þe hevin, and cum doun lampe of lycht.

XXVI

Quhen his discipillis saw him schyne so brycht,
Thai thoucht it gude ay to mak duelling þair;
Bot quhen þai herd þe woce cry, fra þe hicht,
Thai fell on growfe, for dreid þai frayit sair;
He confort þame, and bad þaim speik no mair
Off þat visioun, quhill he raiss fra þe ded,
Quhilk God deput for syne to be remeid.

XXVII

Efter lang pane, and lauber infinite,
Hunger [and] thrist, [and] cauld in wynd and rane,
Walking, wandering, powerte, gret dispite,
Dolour, diseis, [and] cair cotidiane;
Till all his sair he soucht na saw bot ane,
The quhilk wes ded, as surcharge till his sorrow,
That his manheid to de fra God couth borrow.

FERIA QUARTA. TRADITIO DOMINI.

XXVIII

On Wedinday in hous of Caiphes þai
Gadderit princis and preistis of þe law,
Him be sum meyn dissaitfully to sla.
For of þe pepill þe preistis [had] gret aw
Him to persew, for na rycht couth þai schaw,
Quhy he suld de; for quhy? he giddit sua,
That na offence be did to freind nor faa.

XXIX

Judas, þat herd þat conspiracioun
And fals counsall, wrocht rycht vnworthely,
That him nocht warnit of ewil nacioun,
Quhilk nycht and day him for to sla set spy.
Bot he wes full of subtill tratory,
Thairfor his lord for littill price he sauld,
Put in thair will quhat thing gif him þai wald.

FERIA QUINTA. AD VESPERAS.

XXX

Peter and Johnne he send into ciete
A place to grath, quhair be sulde eit þe lambe.
To se this Prince it is ane greit piete
Followand on fute as a pure sempill man.
He said þe grace, and syne þe grace began
Sayand: þe lambe till eit I thrist gretlye,
Or I thole ded for man apoun þe tre.

XXXI

O man, behald þi Maker and þi King
Off reuth [þe] rute and mirrour of meiknes,
Quhilk to þe tratour maid sic cherising
To gar him turne fra his dissaitfulnes;
At set him at his tabill and his meiss,
Syne wesche þair feit, þat ran to sched his blude,
To gar men noit, how weill he þe saule lude.

XXXII

Knelland on kne, þair feit, claggit in clay,
He wesche meikly as sempill seruitour.
Peter thocht schame and said schortlie: Nay.
Him arguun[i]t Jhesu our Saluitour.
Peter said: Lord, I coumend me in ȝour cure,
Bait[h] heid and feit to wesche, gif ȝe think speid.
Crist said agane: þe feit hes all þe neid.

XXXIII

He [worth] richt sad and said: Of ȝou twelf ane
Hes me betrasit and sauld dissaitfullie.
That voce [of] hevin thirlis throu blude and bane,
And ilk ane sperit: Serr, is þat nocht I?
And Judas last, þat wrocht þe tratory.
Thairfor our Lord directit his sermone
Till him allane, þat wrocht had þe tresoun.

XXXIV

The sone of man, he said, mon pas to de,
As in þe prophacy of him it is writtin.
Bot wa is him, þat of wif born wes he,
That is gilty of þat trespas or syn.
Peter bad Johnne at Crist inquir of him
Quha tratour wes, bot Crist him nocht revelit,
Bot Sanct Johnne, quhilk fra þe laif conselit.

XXXV

The seramonis of þe ald testiament
And vthir figouris tuke end, quhen he ordant
His precius body till ws as sacrament
In forme of breid, blissit with his hand.
He said: Do þis my ded rememberand,
Quhill I appeir in jugement agane,
Gude till haue glore and ewill eternall pane.

XXXVI

In his sermond to lufe and cherite
He þam exhortit, als to be pacient;
Stifly to fecht aganis aduersite
He confort þam, syn bad þaim be deligent,
Keip his bidding and his commandement.
He red þe grace, syne said: Lat ws pas hyne,
For heir to duell it is na ganand tyme.

IN THE FIRST COMPLYN.

XXXVII

In þe first complyn think with compassioun,
How þat þe king panis to his deid,

Furth to thole sa bitter passioun,
Quhilk for thy self mycht neuer mair mak remeid;
Thocht þat þi hert wer closit into leid,
Ȝit wald it melt and gar þe watter spring
Profound to think quhat desiris þi king.

XXXVIII

He passit furth vnto þe hill to pray,
As he wes wont; syne his discipillis schew,
At þat samin nycht þai suld all pass him fra.
Peter said: Lord, thocht þai be all vntrew,
Ȝit, or I suld sic tratoury persew,
As presoner leuer de wald I.
Crist said: þis nycht þou sall me thrice deny.

XXXIX

Sedron he passit, syne enterit in þe ȝard;
He bad þame walk, for he to pray wald pas.
Methink þis King had bot ane sempill gard,
That ȝeid to sleip, quhen he to battall wes.
The feir of ded him put in sic distres,
That he swet blud, for he knew perfitlie,
That him behuffit to de richt cruelie.

XL

Thai sleippit thris, and thris he wesyit þaim;
He bad [þaime] walk, for he to pray wald [gyn],
Sayand: Be blith, for sone sall [end] ȝour pane,

Quhilk ȝour fader directit hes, to bring
The banist man agane hame to his ring.
Till his discipillis he said: Lat ws ga,
For he is neir, þat seikis me to slaa.

XLI

Judas said: Quhom þat ȝe se me kiss,
Hald him fast, and richt warly him leid.
He halsit Crist, as a discipill of his,
Bot with his hert he soucht him to þe ded.
O God abone, in quhom begane þis feid,
Maid nocht him Crist in his court cardinall?
[Bo]t auerice wes into his hert ifall.

XLII

Thai laithly lippis vntit with fals tressoun,
Kissit his mouth fer sueitar þan balm.
That warijt wolf, wild, fra wit and ressoun,
Passit to þe Lambe, quhilk maid him na demand,
Bot with þat face mair sueiter þan þe lawn
Sweitlie resauit þe sone of Lucifeir,
Sayand: Freind, quhat maid þe cum heir?

XLIII

At þe Jowis he sperit, quhom þai soucht.
Thai said: We seik Jhesu [þe Nazareyne].
I am Jhesu, he said, þat all thing wrocht.

Bot with þat woce þai fell apoun þe greyne;
For be vertu of his Godheid vnseyne,
Vnder the claith of his huminite,
Mycht nocht systeyne mannis fragilite.

XLIV

Quhen he þam fred to do quhat euir þai wald,
As seik vnthankfull to þe medicinar,
With all þair mycht þai schup him for to hald,
Castand him doun, quhill his body wes sair.
Quhen Peter saw, his hert wes full of cair;
Thairfor to his kind king he wes boun;
Fra Malcuss sone þe richt eir cutit doun.

XLV

Thai strenȝeit þai fair handis with a string,
Quhill his fingeris, quhilk quhit wes, wox bla.
Me think, þai schew him sempill cherising
For lang laubour, quhilk he couth for þame ma.
His appostilis all for dreid fled him fra,
Left him allane full freindles in þe feild,
With cruell men, quhilk handillit him full wild.

XLVI

Thai gart him ryn, thocht he wes neuer so tirit,
Agane þe hill, quhill þat þai maid him faynt.
Intill his ded becauss þai had consp[i]rit,
Thai gart þam haist, for ony suld þaim taynt.
I haue [nocht] wit þair wickitnes to paynt,
For in þair deidis is sic Innormite,
That [be] all meins þai soucht to gar him de.

AT MATYNNIS.

XLVII

Valk of þi sleip, o man, at matyn hour!
With bitter teris remember, gif þou may,
The cruell panis, quhilk Crist, þi saluitour,

The to redeme sustenis nycht and day.
With hert forthink, syne with gret piete say:
I am gret causs of all þe cruell pane.
I staw þe frute, þocht þou restorit agane.

XLVIII

Annas houss wes first into þe gait;
Thairfor Crist wes first till him present.
Johnne enterit in, Peter stude at þe ȝet;
Off his discipillis and his document
Annas sperit him richt deligent.
Crist said agane: I techit into plane;
The Jowis herd þair of, require at þaim.

XLIX

Fra on þis wise had said our Saluiour,
Ane seruand of þe bischopis, þat wes by,
Said: To þe bischop makes þou sic ansueir?
Als on þe cheik straik him vncurtasly.
Crist said agane: Gif euer spokin haue I
Off ewill, witness, and gif I [well] haue said,
Quhy strikis þou me, sen I na falt haue maid?

L

Now euery prince and lord of dignite,
At Crist ȝour king leir to haue pacience;
Coumone meiknes in ȝour nobillite,
Revenge nocht ȝour iniure nor offence.
With pacience vse ȝour mangnificence,
Contemp all prid, gif ȝe will cum to glore.—
To Cayphas þai gart him ga but moire.

LI

Peter for dreid of ded him thris denyit,
Or þe cok thris renewit had his sange.
Syne he ȝeid furth a preva place and spyit,

Quhair he grat and als handis wrange.
To se Crist de the Jowis thoucht full lange;
Thairfor witnes to him condampe þai brocht,
Bot þai fand nane be law, þat him hurt moucht.

LII

Cayphas bad þat he suld ansser make
Till þai witnes, quhilk accusit swa.
Crist held his town[g] and na thing till him spak;
Cayphas said: Gife þou be God werray,
I coumand þe speik and als þe suth to say,
Gif þou be Crist, þe sone of God eterne.
Crist said: I am, thocht þou now me disperne.

LIII

Ȝe sall me se sitand on his rycht hand,
Als as Juge cumand in jugement.
Than Cayphas raif his claithis, sayand:
He blasflemes, now quhat is ȝour intent?
Thai him condampnit to de with ane assent,
Sayand he is gilty and be law suld de.
How þai him trettit, is gret piete to se.

LIV

Than but delay apoun [him] all þai schot,
Preiffand þair pith, quha fastest couth him sair.
That Nobill Prince þai defoulit vnder fute,
Birsand his breist, rivand his tender haire.
Sum on þe cheik, sum on þe wissage baire
Spat in his face, filit his cristall eyne,
And silit his sicht, as he a fule had bene.

LV

Thai hurt his [back] and all his body þai fret,
Saris his senonis and stoundis all his wanis,
Pullit his berd, his tender heid þai rat,
Drowgis him down, sum persis him with panis;
Thair ire as fire apoun his body ranis,
Thai brist his breist, full wan þai mak his face,
Thir cruell panis þis lord will sla, allace.

LVI

O man, mair cruell, þan euer wes wild lioun,
Quhilk with his pith ay purches him his pray,
Ire is þair gid, feid flemes him fra ressoun,
Will is þair law, inwy þai mak sereff [ay];
Prid is þe prince, quhilk seikis him to sla,
Cupid is king, quhilk him sa mait dois stand,
Falset is faith, quhilk herd hankis his hand.

LVII

Man, be thou kind, quhom for this pane he dreis,
Sorrow thy hert and all þi bowellis cerssis,
And now behald, how purelie þat he deis;

Lust birnis thy breist, pane all [his] pertis persis,
His gret trublance with reuth þe mynd regressis
Into þe tyme, as þou had present bene
Off all his passioun, and all his panis sene.

AT PRIME.

LVIII

Vith pietius hert at prime þou suld behald,
How þai þam dres for to condampe þe king,
The cruell panis, quhilk befor is tauld,
May þam nocht meiss, quhill þai to ded him bring.
Thai gadderit alsone as þe day couth spring;
In thair counsail þai gart him be present,
For in his ded þai wald agane consent.

LIX

Gif þow be Crist, þai said, ws schaw planly
The sone of God, promitit Saluiour.
Crist said: I am, as ȝe haue tald trewly,
Thoucht now I stand dispitit as a pure.
The sone of man ȝe sall se haue in cure
To gife gude glore and ewill eternall pane,
Cum in þe clude to jugement agane.

LX

Off witnes, quod þai, we haue no neid,
For we haue her of his mouth [blasfeming].
The king to bind without delay þai speid,
As of befor þai had him hurt na thing.
His fair handis þai strenȝeit with a string,
And þus to Pilat þai him bundin led,
As be thair law he had seruit þe ded.

LXI

Na thing mycht cule þe hatrent of þair hert,
Quhill be to de to Pilat wes present,
Quhilk be þe law wes justice in þat art,
In caus of blude to schaw þe sentement.
Thai ȝeid nocht in, bot Pilat furth he went,
Sperit at þame, gif ony causs þai had,
As bund to ded, as þai him bundin had.

LXII

Fals occasioun richt reddely þai fand,
To gar him de þai had sa gret fer[v]our.
Than said þai: We find him pervertand,
Forbidand tribut to gife to þe empriour,
Calland him king and Crist our Saluitour.
Pilat said: Of ȝour awne ȝe haue lawis,
Juge him thair by, for I trow nocht ȝour sawis.

LXIII

Thai with ire ansuerit and said agane:
It is nocht lauchfull, þat we ony slaa.
Judas forthoucht and restorit agane
The thretty pennyis, and syne a cord couth ta,
Hangit himself, his [body] brist in twa,
Tuke þe reuard of his iniquite,
His avarice sa pervinst verite.

LXIV

With þai pennyis þe preistis of þe law
To berry pilgrames bocht ane sepultour.

Na cherite nor piete gart þaim schaw,
Bot gret malice gart þair hert indure,
That þai thocht euer be þai pilgrames pure
In strang landis þe fame for to gar fle,
As fals propheit þai had gart him de.

LXV

In þe tolbuth Pilat enterit in,
Callit on Crist, and sperit, gif he wes king
Crist ansuerit, inquirand first at him,
Gif of himself or vthiris rehersing
He sa inquirit, gif he as prince suld ring?
Pilat ansuerit: I am na Jow to knaw,
Thy awne pepill hes brocht þe to my law.

LXVI

Crist said: My kinrik into þis warld is nocht;
Bot heir I come to schaw þe verite;
As wardly king to regne, and I had thocht,
My ministeris had maid debait for me,
Quhilkis fra þe Jowis gret iniquite
Had me defendit, and keipit fra þair handis,
Thairfor to regne I come nocht in þir landis.

LXVII

Pilat to þe Jowis ȝeid agane,
Sayand: Na causs I find to gar him de.
The Jowis cryand, sayand, he suld be slane,
For all þe pepill commouit now hes he,
Till all þe land techeand of Jowry,
Fra Galale, quhair þat he first began,
To þis ciete, inquire at euery man.

LXVIII

Fra Pilat hard þam speik of Galale,
To Herod sone he gart him be present,

Trowand, be him he suld deliuerit be,
For, as sum sayis, þat wes his entent.
Bot Herod cled him in a quhit westiment,
Als with his court maid at him derisioun,
Send him agane to eik his confusioun.

AT TERCE.

LXIX

Within þi mynd remember, man, at terce,
How to Pilat þai him brocht agane.
His gret diseis with all hert reherss,
His lang laubour, his pacience and his pane.
Thai will nocht ceiss, quhill þat þai se him slane,
On him to luk þair stomok sair it stoundis.
Thai cry his deth, quhill all þe tolboith soundis.

LXX

Off þe kindschip of Herod and Pilat
Thai wer [no]cht blith; þairfor richt constantly
Thai kest excuse þat nane condampnit him had;
Than to þe pepill Pilat said in hy:
As trespassour ȝe follow him cruel[l]y;
Bot I na causs can find him for to sla,
I sall him scurge, gif þat content ȝow may.

LXXI

In feist of pasche þat tyme þe vse it wes
To gif þe pepill ane condampnit man.
That gart Pilat speir and furth to þam pas.
Quhen þai likit to haue Barrabam,
Or Jhesu, king of Jowis callit þan.

Thai cryit all: Tak him out of our sycht,
And Barrabam gif ws now for our rycht.

LXXII

Pilat said: Quhat ewill hes he done?
I haue him fund in all richt innocent.
Thai cryit: Tollie away! take him sone!
Crucifigy thai cryit with ane assent:
Than Pilat thoucht, þe pepill to content,
Him to scurge, quhill he þair passioun mesit.
He wes begillit, na thing bot ded þaim plesit.

LXXIII

For þai haue spulȝeit [þo] þe heid all bair;
Syne till ane pillar þai full fast him band.
The cruell panis, quhilk he sustenit þair,
Be naturall wit may nane weill vnderstand.
For as I writtin into Doctouris fand,
He wes mair tender [into] his body,
Than is þe scheyne into a mannis e.

LXXIV

Thairfor þai say, þat he in his scurging
Sufferit mair pane without comparisoun,
Than sanct Laurence in tyme of his roisting
Apoun þe fire with irne forkis downg doun.
Fra heid to fute na part þai levit soun.
Off his body þe spirit for to confort
Wes na remeid, bot ded, his pane to schort.

LXXV

That fair ȝoung Prince, þe Sone of God etern,
In manly natour þe prent of perfitnes,
Off fairheid floure, þe rute of rute eterne,
Veriour for man, the ground of all gudnes,
With his fais is now met, allace,
That be vneaiss mycht stand apoun þe ground,
His fell woundis sa sair his hert can stound.

LXXVI

Thai handillit him richt [with] fellony;
Syne skantlie cled into his awne clething
Thai tirvit him agane richt cruelly
Him till array and skorn, as he war king;
The purpour claith abut his corps þai thring,
[Quhill] flesch and blude and claith togidder claife;
His tender hid fra heid to fute þai rife.

LXXVII

Apoun his heid þe crowne of thorn þai [thrang]
With sa gret preiss, quhill þai his harnis persit.
Fra þe [greit] pane [þat] all þe blude out [sprang]
With all þair pith him for to pane þai pressit.
His gret meiknes na thing þair malice cessit,
In till his hand a reid put for a ceptour;
Thair for thy saik wes scornit our saluitour.

LXXVIII

His fair wissage þai straik with ire agane,
And on his face with gret dispit þai spit.
Thai take þe ceptour till renew his pane,
With all þair mycht with it his heid þai hit.
Him for to pyne þai think þai haue na wit.

Thairfor Pilat ȝeid to þe Jowis and tald,
As innocent þat he him furth bring wald.

LXXIX

O knycht, behald, how þi king furth is led,
In new garmond arrayit reuthfully,
Ceptour in hand, with croun of thorn on heid,
In purpour cled, quhilk noyis him fellony.
Fra þai him se, as [tyte] þai word þai cry:
Crucifige, apoun þe croce him bind!
Bot Pilat said: Na [sin] in him I find.

LXXX

Efter our law, þai said, þat he mon de,
For he him callit þe sone of God eterne.
Quhen he herd þame, for feir mair dreidit he,
And callit Jhesu befor him into derne,
Said: Of þi stait to wit rycht fane I ȝarne,
Gif þou be Sone of God þat all thing wrocht?
Crist held his toung and till ansuerit nocht.

LXXXI

Pilat said: Thow speikis nocht to me?
Wait þou nocht, I haue þe in mi will
To let þe pas or ȝit to crucifye?
Crist said agane: Wer nocht þat gevin þe till
Fra God abone, quhilk knawis baith gud [and] ill,
Thow had na mycht me for to pyne so sair;
Thairfor þe syn of Judas is þe mair.

LXXXII

Fra Pilat saw þat he wes innocent,
He soucht menis all way to let him ga.
The Jowis said all with ane assent:

Lat þou him pas, þou art þe kingis fa.
He callis him king, þairfor þou suld him slaa;
For þat ryndis þi lordis maistie.
Than Pilat dred him fra þe ded to fre.

AT SEXT.

LXXXIII

O man, at sext luke with þi inwart sycht,
How þai þi Lord led to confusioun;
Mak rowme to reuth, a place for piete dycht,
Quhill þat þi hert haue perfit compassioun!
His nychtlie pane, his daly dispectioun
Thai euer refreschit with new torment gane;
To eik his wo þe moir þai leuch his pane.

LXXXIV

Pilat sitand in place of jugement,
His wif till him sone send ane messinger,
Quhilk bad him sone þat he suld nocht consent.
Scho said: þis nycht I haue bene rycht affeir,
Into þis nycht a visioun couth appeir
Into my sleip; thairfor I trow he be
Richt innocent of all iniquite.

LXXXV

To tholl þe dome of ded þai brocht him out
Into ane place, quhair Pilat held þe law.
Than þe Jowis all cryit with a schowt
To gar him de, als sone as þai him saw.
Thai think so lang, quhill þai to ded him draw,
That impacience compellit þame to cry:
Tollie, tollie him on þe croce! crucify!

LXXXVI

Pilat saw, he couth nocht cum gude speid
Him to saif but tribulance of þe pepill,
And of his office becauss he had sic dreid,
Barabam he gart be gevin þam till;
Jhesus scurgit deliuerit in thair will;
Syne wesche his handis and callit him innocent,
For in his ded he hes gevin na consent.

LXXXVII

O wod blindnes, the quhilk þat blind so maid
The Jowis ene, þat ressoun put þaim fra.
Thair blind inwy þair awne lawis gart faid,
Quhilk þam forbad all innocentis to sla.
Thai wrang þair freind to confort þair faa;
Thai slay thair Lord, quhilk did riss fra pane,
And loussit the theif quik to sla agane.

LXXXVIII

The purpour claith, quhilk clewit fast to his hid,
With his awne blude þai raif of him of force.
His tender hid þai brak fra bak to syd,
Na part is haill of all his tender corss.
Cled him agane, put on his bak a croce,
Syne led him furth as condampnit to ded,
Full bludy woundit baith fra fute till heid.

LXXXIX

His tender bak beris þat hevy [tre],
Frettis þe flesche and birssis all his banis.
Thoucht he be faynt, þai haue na gret piete,

Thai cruell men to rusche at him at anis.
To confort him amang þaim neid [nane] is.
To gar him ryn all deligence þai ma;
He is so mait, þai may no forthir ga.

XC

Quhen he wes tyrit and mycht do no mair,
He wald full fane haue refreschit his bak;
He schupe to rest at a stane þat wes þair,
Bot þai wald nocht þat he suld tary mak;
Thairfor Symeoun þai compellit to tak
His croce to beir þat þai mycht fast him leid,
To Mont Calwary to put him to þe ded.

XCI

Mony followit of diuerss nacioun,
Quhilk to þe ciete come in tyme of pasche;
Sum makand scorne, sum dirisioun,
Sum drawand him, sum spitand in his face.
To se þis prince it wes a piete, allace;
On euery side sustene fell torment,
Syne fra all syn beand so innocent.

XCII

To þe wemen, þat maid sa hie a mene,
He turnit him and schew þe prophecy,
How þat þe ciete of Jerusalem
Suld be distroyit for þe innoirmate.
Said: Dochteris of Jerusalem, let be!
Gret nocht on me, bot on ȝow and ȝour seid,
Gret and mak cair for þis rycht cruell de[i]d.

XCIII

For the day sall cum þat ȝe sall say:
Wemen ar blist þat na barnis beris.
Ȝe sall se hillis fall and hid in wa,
Quhill þe Romanis haue cessit fra þair weris.
Thir cruell panis our hertis full fell deris,

For gif but causs Crist wes slane cruelly,
O Lord, quhat sall worth of ws, þat ar gilty?

XCIV

Thai saw in ded compleit þis prophacy
The twa and fourty ȝer efter his passioun;
For quhen þe Romanis segit þe ciete,
The wemen eit þair barnis in þe toun.
Jerusalem wes brint and castin doun,
Ten hundreth thousand of þe Jowis slane,
Nyne thousand and sevin led quik with þame.

XCV

And as Crist wes for thretty pennyis sauld,
Quhilk all þe warld redemit with his [deid],
Sa thretty Jowis wer for a penny tauld,
The Romanis [wer sa irkit þam to leid].
Sa þus endit þe malice and þe feid
Aganis Crist, quhilk [þai] held saikleslie;
Thairfor be wair and leif in cherite!

XCVI

Twa thewis with him to þe ded þai led
To Mont Calwary, as he gilty had bene;
Bitter wyne myxt with gall þai had,
That þai him gaif to slokin his thristing.
He taist it and put it fra him syne,
Drank nocht of it, þai him disrayit agane
To mydouris, maid him eikit in pane.

XCVII

Quhen þai his clething tuke fra him agane,
Thai drew þe bluide fra all his precius woundis.

Fra heid to fute now all is bot in pane,
For of his flesche þair is na place þat sound is.
His blissit body, his nobill hert throw stoundis;
Wald ded now tak him, he come now into tyme
Him for to louss fra his gret wa and pyne.

XCVIII

O pyne, vnkind quhy art þow mair till him
Than ony knycht þou had befor in hand?
To breik the law [þow] suld at him begyn,
Quhilk be trespas is subiect to þi wand:
Thow art nocht just, [and] þi law can nocht stand,
For thow hes grace oftyme to synneris sent,
And of his wa thow will nocht mak an end.

XCIX

Apoune þe croce all nakit þai him [kest],
With sa gret force, quhill þai neir hand him sla;
With irne nalis, quhen þai in strik sa fest
Throw þe handis, þan he begouth to pray,
Sayand: Fader, na vengence on þame ta,
Bot for my saik forȝet þair cruelte,
For þame blindis þair gret iniquite.

C

On lenth and breid with scharpe cordis þai tak
That nobill corps, quhill þai þe banis twyn;
Now all the lethis on his tender bak
Thai sa depart, quhill þat his ene wox dyme;
Fra heid to fute þai brak [baith hid] and ryme,
Twynnis his joyntouris, and rivis all his banis,
Birssis his breist, and all his bowellis panis.

CI

Mony panis he tholit of befor,
Bot to þis pane is na pane to be peir;
Now he is mait, now he may do no mair,
Now flesch [and] blude and banis is all on steir;
Now Dede fra pane hes tane him presoneir,
Quhilkis him handillis full fair in every part,
Fra heid to fute him persis with a dart.

CII

O man, now luke how deir is þi ransoun,
How he is pvnist for þe, þat did na myss;
Thrist in þi hert his bitter passioun,
Murnyng in mynd, for þou art causs of þis!
Say: Lord, my syn and þi gret lufe, iwiss,
Garis þe now ly stentit on þe tre:
I did þe miss, Lord, haue mercy on me!

CIII

Quhen þai had drawin his handis and his feit
On lenth and breid, to mak his body lang,
To þe boris þai maid his body meit;
Syne with gret force þe nalis throw þai dang.
Fra handis and feit þe precius blud out ran
So plentiusly, quhill it his body wet,
Syne þai þe croce apoune þe end it set.

CIV

O man, on kne before þe tre þou kneill,
With hert and e luke to þe tre and say:
Quha the so hie hes [tane] fro me my sell?
All game and gle is gane fra me away.
Wa will me sla throw dollour or my day;

I may nocht luke bot þow abone me draw
To kiss þi feit with blude all wet ouraw.

CV

O my kind King, of þis parting, allace,
Fra me all thing of conforting is tane.
O I biiding of all helping so naice
May seik and sing as dulfull dring allane.
Haist for to bring me into þi rigne sone hame;
For se I þe hing on þe tre me fro,
Deith with his dart will smyt my hert in two.

CVI

Ane trespassour þai put on every hand,
As he had beyne parttaker with þair cryme.
Now is compleit þe prophacy, sayand:
With ewill men he is deput to pyne.
Thai his clething partis with cuttis syne,
As þe propheit lang tyme [befoir] had said:
My claithis ar partit and þaim cuttis laid.

CVII

Pilat wrait þe titill abone his heid:
Jhesu of Nazareth, of þe Jowis king.
Syne on þe croce stak it vp abone his heid,
Writtin in Greik, Ebrew, and Latyn.
This till reid [came] mony, baith ald and ȝing,
Off þe Jowis, for neir þe ciete wes
Mont Calwary, quhair he to ded couth pas.

CVIII

Thairat þe Jowis gret inwy þai had;
Thairfor þai said: Writ nocht: King am I,
Bot writ þat he king of Jowis him maid.
Pilat ansuerit and said to þame in hy:
That I haue writtin [I] may nocht deny.

He said full trew, for sa behuffis to be,
For he be law wes king of all Jowre.

CIX

Thoucht Pilat vnderstud nocht quhat he wrait,
He coumendit Cristis nobillite.
Calland him king, he extollit his stait,
For till his crowne all kingis moist sudiet be,
And euery man in his realme crownis he,
Predestinat quhilk is to hevinn[i]s blis,
For be his ded our realme restorit is.

CX

Jhesu in oure leid is callit saluitour,
And þat may weill be applyit to him;
For þe manly natour he tuke in cure,
Quhilk to þe ded wes neuer woundit be syn.
The joy þay tyne agane [he] gart þaim wyn,
The quhilk [þe] scheip on his bak brocht hame,
Thairfor Jhesu we will call his name.

CXI

As Nazareth in Inglis toung is to say
As ȝouth, fairheid, innocence or new,
Quhilk till ony king apply we may,
That wes þe floure quhilk fra þe Jesse grew,
His haly life his gret pacience schew,
That Nazareth full weill till him mycht gane,
That did no myss and bure þe hevy pane.

CXII

Four kind of folk we fand þat scornit him,
Off quhom sum ȝeid, sum stude, [sum sat], sum hang,
Quhilk betaikinnis folk in four kind of syn,

That nycht and day euer to Crist dois wrang.
And him blasfemes þair gret synnis amang,
Als [his] sueit name in ded þai euer deny,
Doand þair cure him new to crucify.

CXIII

The first þat scornit Crist into his ded,
Wes þe pepill, þat þe croce passit by.
Thir folk for scorne apoun him schuk þair heid,
Sayand: On the and all þi doctryne fyne
Thow said: þis tempill I sall distroy in hy,
And ane vthir in dais thre vp bring.
Now help thy self, gif þou be Crist our king!

CXIV

Thir men þat gais ar men of covatice,
Quhilk in this warld wanderis nycht and day.
For ewill wynnyng þair followis syn and vice,
As of þis warld þai neuer suld pas away.
The moir þai haue, þe more þai covat ay;
Thai ryn in syn, as þai wald Crist blasfeme;
With avarice sa filit is thair eyne.

CXV

The secound folk þat scornit Crist our king,
Wes þe scribis into the law perfite,
With þam auld men quhilk in gouernyng
All þe pepill of þe tempill at
And þe bischoppis, quhilk had at him dispit;
Thir folk stude vpe and for scorne cryit him till:
He traistis in God, help [he] him, gif he will.

CXVI

Thir folk þat standis, ar lik men of pride,
Quhilkis standis stif be inobedience,
Als lukis vp be ambicioun all tyid;
To clyme abone is all þair deligence.

In þair power is all þair confidence,
Throu hicht and prid þai trow þe hevin to clyme,
Bot Lucifer thair ressoun makis dyme.

CXVII

The thrid [þ]at sat, wes þai cruell knychtis,
The quhilk at Crist maid gret derisioun.
Thouch he wes God, he wald nocht schaw his mychtis,
He is man, for man wald thoill passioun.
Thairfor, throu malice and indiscrecioun,
Thai scornit him in his mortalite,
Trowand him nocht þe Sone of God to be.

CXVIII

Thir folk [þ]at sat betaikinnis cruell men,
Quhilk þe body haldis into eis;
Thair fleschely lust garris þaim Crist mysken,
Thair cruell will fer mair þan God þai pleis,
To sit euer [soft] and ly without diseis.
In all thair tyme to nuriss þe carioun,
Heir to tholl pane þai think it no ressoun.

CXIX

Crist and [þe] Sanctis þir folk scornis all way,
Quhilk wan þe hevin with mekill wa and pane.
In cald, hunger, walkand nycht and day,
To by that joy with all sorrow war fane.
T[h]ocht sum wer heidit, sum stanit, and sum slane,
Thai thocht all sueit with hevinly [bliss] to wyn,
Thair for may nane but pane þat place cum in.

CXX

The fourt blasfemit Crist wes þe theife,
Quhilk on þe croce hiang on his left hand.
He said to Crist with impacience and greif:
Gif þou be king quhilk rigne in þis land,
Be to þi self and als till ws warand.

The tothir theif him repentit and said:
We serue oure ded, þocht he na falt haue maid.

CXXI

This crabbit theif, þat hang on his rycht hand,
Quhilk but prophacy expletit his pennance
Betakinnis men, quhilk euer mair is murnand,
The saynd of God ay reput myschance.
Tha murne euer be þai in trublance.
Be impacience þair merit quyt þai tyn
And mynnis na thing of all thair pyne.

CXXII

To þe gude theif our Lord said: þou sal be
This samin day with me in paradice.
Till his moder a sone deliuerit he,
A power seruand for þe gret Prince of Price.
Sche him as sone resauit in seruice,
He hir as moder and lady tuke in cure
Fra þat tyme furth, quhill his life can dure.

CXXIII

Now dollouris on euer ilk ane syid
In departing of þir tender freindis,
Quhile lufe, quhile pane wirkis þaim woundis wid,
And ay ilkane full sair for vthir menis.
Now pane, now wo, all confort fra þaim flemes;
Sair garris þame grane, all throu þe hert þaim thirlis,
Quhile wo, quhile dule þis part to þaim now trublis.

CXXIV

Fra Crist our king, quhilk is þe lampe of lycht,
Inclynit him þe spirit till expire,
Phebus for wo to luke [on] had nocht mycht,

Bot drew abak his bemes in his ire;
Fra twelf till thre he let no thing espire;
As he wald say: I sall revengit be
Apoun þe man quhilk garris his maker de.

CXXV

Quhen none drew neir, he cryit twiss: Ely!
Sayand: Fader, quhy hes thou left me sa?
Thou lettis me pyne, and efter confort cry,
Sa þat þe Jowis haldis me for þi fa;
To þi Marteris þou sendis confort in wa,
Till me, þi sone, þou sendis no remeid,
Bot in my wo refreschis me with ded.

CXXVI

O voce of reuth! O voce of maist dollour,
Off lamentatioun and greit piete!
Off all þe warld [þe] generall Salviour
But ony help now deis on þe tre!
Cry what he will, he gettis na suppley;
For God him puttis in þe will of man,
And man wait nocht how torment he him can.

CXXVII

Quhen Jhesu saw his torment draw to end,
And weill now neir compleitit þe prophecy,
He said: Sitio, þat is to thrist, I spend
For mannis saule my saule and my body.
Moir causis me þi lufe and na pane to cry;
Thame to redeme I haue sa gret desire,
That lufe and pane my hert birnis in a fire.

CXXVIII

Quhen þat wes by herd, þat of thrist he spak,
Rynand in haist tuke ane reid þat wes tvme,
Syne a spowng fast apon it stak,
Als intill wynakar þai soupit it full sone.
Syne till Jhesu þai raikit it abone,

Sayand: Now Crist, mak for þi self remeid,
Cum of þe croce and saife þe fra þe ded.

CXXIX

Fra he tuke, he wald nocht drink of it,
Bot taistit it and put it fra him syne,
Sayand: All thing in me is consumyt,
Quhilk I suld thole þe man to lose fra pyne.
In cald and hunger I have spendit my tyme,
To gar þe man me lufe as souerane,
And for my luf I get no thing bot pane.

AT NONE.

CXXX

O Man, at none [þou] with mynd behald
The well of lufe, throu droucht quhilk is gane dry!
His eyne wox dym, his flesche wox stif and cald,
For all þe blude is ronn fra his body.
In euery part ded can his palice spy
Him for to reist within a littill [space],
Syne with his dart him for [to] sla, allace.

CXXXI

Quhen ded enterit within þe breist of blis,
His nobill hert he graipit in his hand,
Sayand: O King, [thocht] ȝe haue done no myss,
For ȝour pepill ȝe mone bow till our wand;
For ȝour Fader hes gart ws vnderstand,
That be ȝour ded man is restorit to grace;
Bot þe, saikles, I dred to sla, allace!

CXXXII

O! he full blyth obeyit to þe ded,
For saik of man he in his armes braist;

Syne on his breist he inclynit his heid;
As he wald say, now man I gif þe gaist!
He thocht full lang þe bitter ded till taist,
For mannis saule, [þe] quhilk man hes maid [lasche]
Off hevinnis blis, quhilk [gart] him cry: Allace!

CXXXIII

With ane gret voce cryit our Salviour,
Sayand: Fader, I coumend [me] in þi handis;
My pvnist spreit now tak into þi cure,
Quhilk Ded hankis herd in his bandis;
Wait none my wo, bot þou þat vnderstandis.
And þis sayand, he incly[nit] his face,
Syne with gret pane he gaif the gaist, allace!

CXXXIV

And fra my hert wald bludy teris spring,
For thy passioun to murne baith day and nycht;
My wofull mynd it wald to confort bring;
Off all solace þou had tynt þe sycht:
And I sal be besy with all my mycht,
And sall nocht ceiss to cry, quhill I worth hais,
For my kind Kingis ded to say: Allace!

CXXXV

O cruell Ded, with þe I think to flite,
Quhilk me hes rewit all my conforting.
Allace! my hert is now sowpit in site,
For be þe, Ded, it happinnit þis parting;
Thow art vnricht as Justice for to ring,

The Sone of God in to þi handis þou brace
Fra me pure knycht, to sla my Lord, allace!

CXXXVI

O cruell Ded, so bald how durst þow be,
To put handis in him þat aucht þe nocht?
Speik, gif þow dar! and mak ansuer to me,
Thow foull of reif, to end þat has him brocht:
He synnit neuer in word, ded, nor thocht!
But cryme to de, it is ane hevy cais,
Thow hes him slane þairfor but law, allace.

CXXXVII

And in þi hert reuth had ony rovme.
The lang lauboure and pane [it] mycht haue [eisit],
Quhilk sustenit this King of gret renoun,
Syne his godheid no man in luff applesit,
He had sic pane, thocht it him nocht displesit,
That all his life to þe wes bot a raiss,
And his confort is now ded, allace.

CXXXVIII

Into þi band as bond þou had him bund,
Quhen in þe ȝard be enterit for to pray.
His fair body with blude wes all ourerun,
The ded of him put þe in sic affray:
His discipillis þou gart fle him fra.
Syne þai knychtis him dang, quhill he was haiss,
Thir panis cruell neir hand him slew, allace.

CXXXIX

Quhen þou saw, þat he wes cleyne of syn,
And be iustice exempit fra þe law,

Fals witnes þou socht to challange him,
Sum causs of ded aganis him to schaw.
Thai band him sair, quhill his fingeris wer haw,
With stoundis scharpe put fra him all solace,
The croune of thorne thirlis his heid, allace.

CXL

The purpour claithis, quhilk claif fast till his hide,
With his awne blude þai raifeit fra him on force.
His tender flesche þai brak fra bak to syid,
Na part wes haill of all his tender corss,
Cled him agane, put on his bak a cross,
With twa thewis to ded syne gart him pas;
His fais leuch, his freindis said: Allace.

CXLI

Apoune þe croce all nakit þai him hang
With sa gret force, quhill þai neir him slew;
To þe boris his armes wes nocht lange,
Thairfor with cordis þai his body drew.
Fra heid to fute þai all his panis renew,
To twyn his wanis wes [þair] besynes,
Syne my kind King to sla me fra, allace.

CXLII

My gle is gone, renewit is my wo,
My spreit is spicit with malancolie.
Ded I defy, for he may do no mo;
For all confort now hes he tane fra me.
My lufe, my life he hes slane on þe tre;
And I for dule neir deis in þis place,
For sueit Jhesu is ded fra me, allace.

CXLIII

Quhen God, maker of euery creatour,
Wes slane for man, quhom he maist nobill maid,

The wale full sone [haly] intwa it schure,
For of his ded it mycht nocht bid þe braid.
Als on this wise he to þe Jowis said,
That of þe figour wes drawin þe courting,
Quhilk Crist oure King betaikinnis to thole pyne.

CXLIV

The erd trymbillit, þe craggis raif in schundir,
Grawis oppinnit for dollour and piete.
Senturio and his knychtis had woundir,
With sic a woce sa sone þat he suld de.
He trowit syne and all his cumpany,
Sayand: For suth, þe Sone of God he wes,
And vthir by for ded sone can pas.

CXLV

Quhen þe pepill wes all passit away,
His awne moder the croce remanit by,
With Madaleyn and Salame alsua,
Eik with Sanct Johnne and Mary Jacoby,
With vthir ma into þair cumpany,
Quhilk followit him rycht as þair awne Souerane,
Deand for dule of his gret wo and pane.

CXLVI

Allace, quhat pane had þis sueit virgin,
Quhen scho hir sone saw de apon þe tre!
His cruell ded hir put in sa gret pyne,
On ground to stand þat sche had na powstie.
Had ded hir tane, he had schawin cherite.
The swerd of dule sa sair hir hert can brace,
Quhilk for his sone hir pynit in þat place.

CXLVII

With e and hert scho lukit to þe tre,
For hir sueit sone all boldin into pane.
Scho said: O croce, I will compleyne on the,
Quhilk but justice my sone Jhesu hes slane.
The frute þou beris be law is nocht þi awne,
For fra þe rute wes neuer sic frute þat grew,
The Haly Gaist it in my body sew.

CXLVIII

The frute, þe quhilk I cleyne virgin bure but syn,
Fra ald Adame and all lawis wes fre.
He staw þe frute, and God commandit him
With all his seid for þat trespas to de.
I bair þe frute, keipand virginite;
Thairfor be law to Adam he aucht nocht,
Quhilk neuer synnit in word, dede, nor thocht.

CXLIX

To wile personis sen þat þow hes bene Justice,
Quhilk ewill lif wes haldin euer infamit,
For to ressaue þe nobill Prince of Price,
Quhilk neuer did myss, me think þou suld be eschamit.
To haue said nay, nane mycht þe [haue] blamit,
For he is lord of life be wera law,
Thairfor to ded obedience nane he aw.

CL

Quhat wes þe caus of þin iniquite,
Just men and ewill to mak elik in pane?
With strif iquit now lufe and cherite,

Schame for honour he hes gottin agane.
He procurit lif to him, þat hes him slane,
And thou of ded þe minister he[s] bene,
Quhilk is Goddis Sone, put twa thevis [hes] betwene.

RESPONSIO CRUCIS.

CLI

To þe I say, o Lady Virgine cleyne,
Off my worschip þou art baith crop and rute,
Thoucht I wes wile, throu flewour now I schyne,
The frute of the richt mychty garris me mute.
I lay full law, bot now I stand on fute,
Fresche flurisand with frute of sic a kyn.
Quhilk to ded men is werray medicyne.

CLII

O Lady sueit, þe birding I beir now,
The nobill frute I haue in possessioun,
It is borne to þe warld and nocht to ȝow,
To be suppley of every nacioun.
With ded to sla ȝoure sone had na ressoun,
He disponit for mannis saik to de,
That throu his ded [he] mycht restorit be.

CLIII

O Hevinly Queyne, þe nobill Prince of Price,
He set me croce agane, yt hote þe tre.
Quhilk God abone plantit in paradice,
Throw quhilk men fell in gret perplexite,
Thocht he saw nocht, he restorit [is] be me,

Frethand þe man, þat had nocht to lay doun,
Quhill þat my frute is sauld for his ransoun.

CLIV

Lif fell in dede for luf of ald Adam,
And throu my frute ded is restorit to live;
Be my sueit frute bitter dede is slane,
Thairfor, Lady, þis ded suld mak ȝow blyth.
I am þe first daystern þat gart kith
To þe fadi[ri]s, þat lay into þe lymbe
In gret mirknes be ald Adames syn.

CLV

Thocht fra þe stok grew nocht þe bobe of wyne,
The bob it helpis, for it þe branche vpberis;
Richt so I say to ȝow: O sueit Virgin,
This nobill frute, quhilk ȝour hert sair deris,
That God ordanit to ceiss Adames weris,
Grew nocht on me, for I am bot ane stok,
For saik of man to beir vp þis wyneblok.

CLVI

Thairfor, Lady, I do ȝow na wrang,
Thocht ȝe be branche, fra quhom þis wynbob grew.
For man to de he hes bene ordanit lang,
And him to beir I come bot of þe new.
Off my seruice, Lady, ȝe suld nocht rew,
For I him tuke as man mortall to de,
And inmortall he sall restorit be.

CLVII

On Setterday þat tyme þe oise it wes,
Condampnit men of [þe] croce to ta.

That gart þe Jowis sone to Pilat pas,
Quhilk him besocht, his knychtis to let ga
To Mont Calwary þe pynit men to sla.
Than Pilat said, þai suld thair theis breik,
Syne but delay of þe croce þame tak.

CLVIII

Thai cruell men obeyit with desire,
Raddy to schaw þair gret crudilite.
To Mont Calwary þai come birnand in ire;
Bot fra þai saw þai twa thevis nocht de,
Thai brak thair theis, syne tuke þaim of þe tre,
Kest þair carionis in a place neir by,
Syne till our King þai schupe þaim cruelly.

CLIX

Bot fra þai saw þat cristynnit Kingis face
All wan and paill, eik closit wes his sycht,
His bludy body stif in euery place,
Thai estemit þat ded had done his rycht.
Throw þe richt syd him woundit a blind knycht
With a scharp speir, quhill blude and watter cleir
Agane natour his ded hert woundit [sair].

CLX

The precius blud ran vnto Longeus hand,
And he his eyne anoyntit with it throu caiss;
Off [þe] tuiching of God sic grace he fand,
With e and hert þat he knew Cristis face:
He left his office, resignit in þat place,
Als levit lang in relyiosite.
Syne bischope maid and marter deit he.

AT EWINSANG.

CLXI

[W]ith reuthfull hert remember at evinsang
With cruell dede quhilk deit hes þi king.

Behald quhat pane, quhat tyme, quhat place [he] hang,
He hes tholit to bring þe to his ring;
And þuhat pane and pyne dreit hes þis ding,
Is for þi saik, be nocht þairfor vnkind,
Bot nycht and day his dede call in þi mynd.

CLXII

Efter þat deid as bond þis knycht had tane,
And of evinsang þe tyme approchit neir,
Ane gret noble, quhilk Joseph hecht to name,
Come fra þe court Christ for till inquyre.
In þair dedis he was not counsalyre,
For to Jesu he lang discipill wes,
Thairfor but dreid he thocht to Pilat pas.

CLXIII

This nobill schew his [greit] nobilite,
For he was first quhilk honorit þis king.
Churlis him slew and scurgit him cruelle,
Quhilkis in þe toun wes haldin maist indigne.
His nobill hart gert sa gret piete spring,
That lyfe and deid he comptit not a haw,
So purlie hing quhen he his maister saw.

CLXIV

All dreid of deid full sone he set on syde
And constantlie to Pilat enterit he,
Askit þat corps all bludy in þat tyde,
With gret reuerence þat it mycht beryit be.
Fra Pylat herd þat þai war deid all thre,
Without delay he informit his will,
And gert þe corps of Christ be gevin him till.

CLXV

Ane pretius claith, quhilk we ane syndon call,
That kingly corps to couer he coft syne;

To wirschip him he set his study all;
Oft on þe croce he thocht gret dreid to ryn.
He wald not cum doun, quhill he doun mycht wyn,
Bot him causit instant necessite
To clym abone and louss him of þe tre.

CLXVI

Nichodemus, quhilk come apon þe nycht,
Richt sacretlie to se oure saluiour,
Throu Christis blude of faith gat sic a lycht,
That his deid corps till oynt be tuke in cure;
Of diuerss spicis a sindry mixtour
Fra corruptioun his body till inbalme;
Syn to þe croce þai come baith but [dwalm].

CLXVII

Syne to þe croce a lang ledder þai june
Of þat hurde to lowss þe lokis strang.
Syne on þe ledder Joseph clame abone,
Fra hand to fute þe nalis out þai dang;
That hevinlie hurde syne in armis he thrang,
He come doun richer, þan quhen he vp ascendit,
Be all þe gold þat he had on him spendit.

CLXVIII

Than his moder him in hir armis claucht,
To price his pane neir by þe croce sat doun,
Quhyle with þe Jowis, quhile with þe deid scho faucht.
His bludy corps sa sair hir hert gart [w]ound.
Bot quhen sche saw þat neuer a part wes soun
Of his body, sche cryit reuthfully:
Now þou art deid; þairfor full way is me.

CLXIX

Quhen þat sueit thing beheld his tender hyde
In euery part brokin with scurgis scharpe,
Als heid and fute, þe wound of his rycht syde,
The swerd of dule persit hir tender harte.
Mirth fled fra hame, cair maid his cave invart,
Thrang throw hir hert, quhill sche said petiuslie:
My sone is deid, þerfor full way is me.

CLXX

His bludy corps in hir armis scho thrang,
About hir hals syne laid his armis tua.
O Deid, sche said, quhy hes þou done þis wrang,
To let me leif, sen he is deid me fra?
Off all þis warld I wait nathing bot wa;
My panis supprice, for doloure neir I de,
My sone is deid, þairfor full way is me.

CLXXI

His fair vissage all barkit our with blude,
With greit fer[u]our scho junit to hir face;
Baith mouth and chyn to kiss scho thocht full gude,
Off dedlie wo scho forgit hir solace.
[Scho] couth nocht ceiss þat blissit corps to brace,
Thoucht bludy teris le[ttid] hir to se.
For hir sueit sone scho said: Full wa is me.

CLXXII

Scho said: Sweit sone, þi cristall eyne ar dyme,
Thy lufsum lippis with ded ar maid full bla,
Thy teth is haw, changit cheik and chyne,
Thy toung is clung, þou may nocht speik nor na,
Thy feit is sair, þou may nocht stand nor ga;
The scurgis scharp hes rewin baith body and the,
Now art þow ded, þairfor full wa is me.

CLXXIII

Jerusalem, þou ceiss[is] nocht of þi syn,
Nane sall resist to þi transgressioun;
Now is he dede, quhilk wes wont oft to ryn
Throu all Jowry, transgressouris for to confound.
Bot of his woce now decressit is þe sound.
Thy fals lawis nocht reformit be,
For þi doctour is ded, full wa is me.

CLXXIV

Thoucht his moder maid lamentacioun,
And for his ded murnit rycht pietuouslie,
That naturall greif wes subiect to ressoun,
Quhilk giddit ay to natur[al]ite.
Agane ressoun faucht ay sensualite,
Quhilk gart him murne baith in ded and thocht,
Bot ressoun this greife offendit nocht.

AT CUMPLIN TYME.

CLXXV

Man, at complyn behald þat hevinly king,
Apoun his bak he did ly on suppyne;
Off his marcy beseik him to bring
Out of þis warld prolixit þat in pyne,
Eternaly to ring in glor divyne
With him thy Lord, quhilk with þe bocht þat blis
With cruell ded, ȝe thoch he did no myss.

CLXXVI

Thir twa knychtis with ded and deligence
Thair kingis corps spicit richely;

In syndoun claith him wand with reuerence,
And as þe vse of þat into Jowry,
The gret lordis and men of dignite
Off precius spice to mak a conspectioun
Flesche of ded men to keip fra corrupcioun.

CLXXVII

Besid þe place, quh[ai]r he wes crucifyit,
In till ane ȝard, þair wes ane sepilltur,
Out of ane crag carwit rycht perfitly,
Now vnwsit with ony creatour.
That hevinly hurd þair but delay þai bure,
For skant of tyme þai mycht nocht mak duelling,
Half as þai wald, for to beheld þair king.

CLXXVIII

That hevinly hurd, of God þe tabernakill,
As mortall man to bery þai þame boun,
Vnder þe cure of dedis dirk vmbrakill
To duell a quhille richt law is now laid doun.
This nobill Prince, of all our glore þe croun,
Quhilk be justice suld sit in trone to rigne,
Now vnder fute into ane coif þai thring.

CLXXIX

Into þe coife quhen þis ded knycht [þai] brocht
To berry it, befor him þai murnit all;
Thocht he wes ded, ȝit sum confort þai thocht
With e to se þat corps defit all,
Bot his moder, Virgin Angelicall,

That þat parting of ded bure neir þe braid,
Quhen scho þe graif saw with a stane cloiss laid.

CLXXX

Off his keiping Joseph had gret cure,
Thairfor ane stane, þat wes baith gret and lang,
Fra best and man to cloiss þe sepultur,
With richt gret force befor þe graif þai thrang.
At his moder syne askit leif to gang
Till herbry, for him nerit þe nycht,
Thus fra his King partit þis cristin knycht.

CLXXXI

Sanct Johnne, quhilk cure had tane of þis virgin,
He estounit with gret proplexite.
The sepultur gart till his hert propyne,
Heirfor full meik he said: O sueit Lady,
Ceiss for to sich, now ȝour regrait lat be,
And mak ȝow bown, or þat þe nycht draw neir,
For till vmbeschew þe Jowis gret dangeir.

CLXXXII

It hevyit hir of þat departing,
Bot nocht obstant scho wes obedient;
Scho braist þe graif and salust hir sueit thing,
Syne but delay scho to þe ciete went.
In hir allane remanit þe foundament
Off cristin faith, for [he] schew verralye
Him Goddis sone predestinat to de.

CLXXXIII

In hi[r] closit scho brassit with bandis twa,
Thai[r] dais thre scho maid hir inhabitance.
A band wes dule of hir sonis wa,

Quhilk nycht and day scho had in remembrance:
The tothir wes profound confidance,
That inmortall he suld rais in haist.
Thus betuix pyne and faith hir hert is braist.

CLXXXIV

The Magdalyn besid þe sepultur
With vthir ma throw hir deuocioun
Baid for to spy, how scho oure saluiour
Mycht se cum out withouttin suspecioun.
Scho passit and maid raddy hir vnccioun,
Bot þe ladyis hir causit mak resisting,
Quhill þe thrid day, þat scho þe day saw spring.

CLXXXV

On setterday þe preistis of þe law
To Pilat come and said, þai had in mynd,
That Crist [himself] suld to þe pepill schaw,
On þe thrid day þat he suld riss fra pyne.
Thairfor þai said: Send [knichtis] sone of þin,
Quhilk nycht and day haue of þe croce sic cure,
That ay ane walk and keipe þe sepulture.

CLXXXVI

For and his folk out of þe graif him ta,
Thai will proclame þat he is Crist our king,
To quhome þe ded may nocht resistance ma;
Sa be sic meyne þai may in errour bring
All þe pepill, quhilk bow suld of our ring.
Sa þis last errour may ws mair confound,
Than did þe first withoutin comparisound.

CLXXXVII

Pilat said: Tak of myn awtorite
Men of armes, of his corps to haue cure.

Thai maid na baid, bot [with] hillarite
With þai knichtis towart þe graif þ[a]i fure.
For sickar armes þai soucht in þe sepulture;
Syne him to keip left knychtis deligent,
So left þe graif and to þe ciete went.

CLXXXVIII

Within a crage now closit is etern
Off all þe warld þe generall Saluitour;
Throw dispen[s]acioun [of] þe God superne
Vnfaithfull men his corps now hes in cure.
The body lyis in þe sepulture.
Into þe lymbe þe saulis giffis conf[orting],
Till þe gude theif, þat knew him Crist our King.

CLXXXIX

Thoucht cruell ded had with his bludy dart
Off saule and body lowsit þe vnioun,
He had no pith his Godhed forto part,
Fra ane of þaim be ded in his passioun.
For [Godis] sone wes wont till a persoun
[Haue] saule and body to Diuinite.
Fra þame þe Godheid brak neuer vnite.

CXC

Thus in þe graif lyis þis woundit knycht
Vndir þe cure of dedis dirk vmbrakill.
Into þe lymbe þe saulis giffis licht
To þe fadderis, quhilk had þe habitakill
[OMITTED]
Thairfor þe knychtis but dreid sleippit sone,
For his body sall riss in na corrupcioun.

CXCI

And to my Will ansuerit Wit and Ressoun:
Moir sueit to speik of my Saluiour:
Thow mycht me argo of a poynt of tressoun,
Thy hurde to hid to skaill I tuke na cure.
Bot sen þou wait, my wit is febill and pure,
Thy cruell ded with piete to recorde;
Gude will for ded ressaue, sueit Jhesu, my Lord.

THE RESSURECTIOUN.

CXCII

This blissit Prince baid giffand conforting
To þe fathiris, quhilk in the lymbe þat lay,
Quhill setterday had rungin at ewinnyng,
And of þe sonday neir comyn wes þe day.
Than be þam led out of þe lymbe away
To parradice with gret solempnite,
His nobill corps to ryiss syne bownit [he].

CXCIII

With multitude he come of angellis sange
And raissit vp the tempill of Salomoun,
Quhilk þe Jowis on gude friday doun thrang,
The cruell ded and pane of his passioun,
As he befor had said in his sarmone:
Ȝe sall þe tempill sla of my body,
And I it sall raiss [vp] in dais thre.

CXCIV

With þat þe graif closit wes wounder fast,
This nobill knycht throw his angelite
On pasche day raiss, and so of þe graif out past

Richt glorius with nobill wictory.
[Till] his moder þan first apperit he,
As ressoun wes, for gif scho for his ded
[Was] maist in pane, scho suld haue first remeid.

CXCV

This hevinly queyne for hir sueit sonis dede
Remanit still in lamentacioun.
Hir Jhesu for all wofull [panis] remeid
Come for to gif hir consolacioun;
Till hir he maid his salutacioun,
Sayand: Haill! haill! berar of the King,
Quhilk hevin and erd hes into gouernyng.

CXCVI

Off Jhesus hevinly voce full blith scho wes,
Thairfor on kne scho knellit reuerandly,
And halsit him, syne till him couth scho pass,
And he hir met with gret humilite;
In hir armes scho braissit his body
In sic fer[u]our, quhill all þe dule and wa,
Quhilk for his ded scho sufferit, fled hir fra.

CXCVII

Syne in þis place togidder sat þai doun,
Off hevinly talk makand a riall pace,
Quhen he hir schew þat his body [wes] soun,
Boith [handis] and feit, his body and his face,
[OMITTED]
Quhilk crewell men had all changit throw pane
Rycht gloriusly remanit [h]all agane.

CXCVIII

Efter this þan schew our Saluiour
To his moder, how Mary Magdalyn

Had bene and soucht him at þe sepultur,
And fand him nocht, and had þe angellis sene.
As wofull wicht, [he] said, weipand hir ene,
About þe graif scho wanderis to and fro;
To confor[t] hir thairfor wald I go.

APPERACIO DM AD MARIAM MAGDALENAM.

CXCIX

Seikand hir lord so lang scho persewerit,
Plungit for him in gret perplexite,
Quhill [atte last] þat he till hir apperit,
Als said, [þis] woman to greit: Quhat alis the?
Scho estimeit, þat gardener bene had he,
Thairfor scho said: Gif þou him tuke away,
The place me schaw, þat I returne hy[m] may.

CC

Hir gret dollour na mar prolong wald he,
Thairfor on hir he callit be hir name.
Scho ansuerit: Rabone, [is it þe]?
That is maister, for quhom wes all her mane.
Scho went, þat Jowis away his corps had tane,
Thairfor wanderand about þe sepultour
With cairfull mynd scho soucht our Saluiour.

CCI

That hevinlie [voce] refrenit so hir spreit,
That to þe erd richt law scho lowtit doun,
With fervent hert pressit to brace his feit,
Off hir synnis quhair scho gat remissioun,
Quhen scho þame wesche, or he tholit passioun.
Bot him to nech he forbad, [and] pretend,
Till his fader he had [nocht yet] ascend.

THE THRID APPERACIOUN TO ÞE THRE MARYIS.

CCII

Quhen thir thre Maryis to the ciete went,
Into the way to thame apperit he,
And halsit þame; syne said incontinent:
Ga byid my brethir pas in Galalie,
As I haue þame said, þair þai sall me see.
Than on thair kneis þai fell with deuocioun,
Braissit his feit, þan fur þai to þe toun.

CCIII

This Magdaleyn and hir followi[r]s twa
To þame rehersit, how þai thair Lord had sene.
Fra þat herd Peter, he baid nocht leif to ta
At his brethir, na ȝit þe Magdelyn;
Bot to þe graif, quhair þe Mary[i]s had bene,
He went in haist to find þat nobill duke,
[Quham] he for dredour in his passioun forsuke.

THE FOURT APPERACIOUN TO SANCT PETER.

CCIV

As Peter passit to þe sepultur,
Him for to seik with mynd and will present,
As doctouris sayis, Jhesus our Saluiour
Than in the way till Peter him present,
All confort him and bad him be deligent;
His brethir all conferme into þe fay,
Ffor of his ded þe pane wes past away.

THE FIFT TO SANCT JAMES.

CCV

To Sanct James last apperit he,
Quhilk wowit had þat he suld eit na breid
Fra Thurisday, fra he hard he suld de,
Quhill he him saw agane riss fra ded.
Than Crist till him apperit in þat steid,
Quhair he fastit and bad, a burd be set,
Als breid he put, þat his brethir mycht eit.

THE SEXT TO ÞE DISCIPILLIS PASSAND TILL EMAUS.

CCVI

Als to þe castell sevin myll fra þe ciete
Off his discipillis passand on pasche day,
His cruell pane rehersand with piete,
To þaim Jhesus apperit in þe way,
In pilgram weid; als to þam couth he say:
Quhilk ar þe sarmonis quhilk ȝe at þer speir,
Gangand þe way as ȝe all cairfull wer?

CCVII

Ane to name wes callit Cleophas,
Said: Merwall is þat þou misknawis allane
Thir cruell dedis quhilum thir dais wes
To Jhesus done into Jerusalem,
Be oure princis how he wes tane [and] slane,
Als tiruit [him] with mony panis fell,
Quhom we trowit to redeme Iserall.

CCVIII

He said: O fulis and slaw in hert to trow
In þe prophacy quhilk spokin is of me;
Behuffit nocht Crist þis pane to tholl for ȝow,
Als rise fra dede, syne in his glore entre?
Syne he to þame exponit the prophacy,
Quhilk spokin had, þat he suld suffer pane,
And riss fra ded on the thrid day agane.

CCIX

Quhen to þe castell neir cumin þai war,
He sonȝeit him, or he wald forthir pas.
Thai him besoucht his jornay to defer,
Ffor it wes lait and þe nycht cumin wes.
Thair febill mynd he let na mair incress
Into dispair, quhairfor with him thai fure
In þe castell and schew him Saluature.

CCX

He wes oft wont, or he passit to ded,
With his discipillis quhen he held cumpany,
With his handis als cleyne to breik þe breid,
As with ane knyf ane wald it þair in hy;
He did so þan, syne delt þame him by,
Quhairthrow þai knew þat he wes God of mycht,
Rasit fra ded, bot he went fra þair sicht.

CCXI

Thir twa discipillis sone haistit þam agane
To þe ciete and to þe postillis schew,
Into þe way how he talkit with þame,
Breikand þe breid, syne how þai him knew,
All bot Thomas, till ane closat him drew,
Quhairfor þat tyme with þame wes nocht present
Throu dispositioun of God omnipotent.

THE SEVINT APPERACIOUN.

CCXII

Thoucht þai þe durris had steikit all [to] exclude
The cruell Jowis for þair Iniquite,
Jhesus come and in þe myddis stude,
And to þame said: Peace [m]ot to ȝow be!
Thai presumyt þat a spreit bene had he,
Bot he þame schew his handis and his feit,
To gar þame knaw þat he wes nocht a spreit.

CCXIII

Quhen Thomas come, þe discipillis him schew,
That þai had sene þe Lord in verite.
He said: I sall nocht traist þat it is trew,
Bot in his handis and his feit I see
All þe taikynnis of þe nalis thre,
And als my hand syne put into his syid,
Quhair þat þe speir schair a wound deip and wid.

OCTAUA APPERACIO STI THOME.

CCXIV

His febill hert, quhilk drew him in dispair,
In mair errour Crist wald nocht let him incress;
Thairfor, quhen þai [in þat] place gadderit war,
And Sanct Thomas als with þaim present wes,
The durriss steikit and closit þe entre[s],
Crist enterit in, be gret agelite
He stude in þe myddis of his communite.

CCXV

Syn [till] Thomas, quhilk wes herdest in trouth,
Crist his sermone directit specialie.
His saule to tyne þis pietuous Prince had reuth,
Quhairfor him thocht him for to certify,
That he wes rissin in saule and in body.
Thairfor he said: In my syd put þi hand,
And ar no mair, bot be in faith constant.

CCXVI

Thy finger als put in my syd and knaw,
The place ȝit of þe nalis is patent.
Than Thomas trowit, quhen he taikinnis saw,
That our lord wes in his sicht present.
Als in his hert wox [he] richt penitent.
He said: Thomas, blissit mot þai be,
Quhilk saw me neuer, and trowis into me.

NONA APPERACIO.

CCXVII

Efter þat Crist our blissit Saluiour
Sustenit had his bitter passioun,
His discipillis in temporall gudis pure,
Quhilk keipit straitlie þe way of perfectioun,

Efter his glorius resurrectioun
The falt suppleyis of þair pouerte
Be thir laubouris and [thir] industry.

CCXVIII

For Sanct Peter passit to þe fisching
With vthir sevin into his cumpany,
And all þat nycht wirkand þai tuke no thing,
Bot quhen þai war in maist perplexite,
Our lord apperit on land besyd þe sey,
And on þe land him present to þame schew,
Bot nane of þame him perfitlie knew.

CCXIX

He askit þame, gif ony fische þai had
Raddy graithit refectioun forto be.
Thai ansser maid, Crist þaim full meiklie bad
Thair nettis put agane into þe see.
Thai did command, fand fische aboundandlie,
Knew, he wes Crist, to quhom must neid obey
All kind of creatour in hevin, in erd and see.

CCXX

Fra Peter saw fra Crist cumin wes he,
His hevinly grace kindillit his fer[u]our,
Out of þe schip þat he lap in þe sey,
That he mycht first speik with our Saluiour.
Than Crist him maid baith heid and gouernour
Till all þe laif, quhen þai wer all present,
In his dedis becauss he wes fervent.

CCXXI

O man, behald þi maker and thy king,
Quhilk his seruandis wisseis into stres,
Than all þe nycht had bene at þe fisching,
And tane nathing, bot into laubour wes;
Quhen þai wer tirit and thocht away to pas,
He come and schew, how þai þe fische suld tak,
Als on þe land with þame baith eit and spak.

THE TENT APPERACIOUN.

CCXXII

Syne to five hundreth and ma apperit he
Off his discipillis, or his ascencioun.
And, till mak end of dais fourtie
Efter his glorius resurrectioun,
He come and gaif þaim consolacioun,
Als eit and drank, and to þaim schew þe way,
How þai vthir mycht conserue into þe fay.

CCXXIII

He thocht it tyme to schaw his majestie,
Throw his awin mycht ascendand to þe glore,
That he wald pas to þe hevin so hie:
Thairfor the tyme he wald prolong no more,
Bot he ascendit all þe pepill befor,
To set his manheid on his Faderis rycht hand,
Quhilk for his will to ded wes obeyand.

CCXXIV

Than all þe Sanctis in paradice þat wes mak
Als eit and drank and schew þaim finalie,
That he fra þame as þan his leif wald tak,
And till him pas quhilk send him heir to de;
Bot ȝe, he said, sall find in þe ciete,
Quhill ȝe be cled be vertu of þe lycht,
Quhilk ȝe sall get throw þe gud spreittis mycht.

CCXXV

He tuke his leif, als Peter commandit þame,
To Mont Olivit als bad þai suld ascend;
Thai did richt sua, and [he] apperit agane
His ambassat to bring to finall end.
For he till erd fra his Fader wes send,
To de for man and man to grace restore,
Out of þe mirknes þe man to gid to glore.

CCXXVI

With victory and trivmp celistiall,
With angellis sang, and angellis in cumpany
He ascendit, quhen þai war present all,
Fra Mont Olivit throw his agilite;
Baith handis and face in hevin directit he,
And þai behaldand, and sa ascendit on hicht,
Quhill a bricht clude him tuk out of þair sycht.

CCXXVII

Thocht I wer also fair in eloquens
As ony ordour of angell cherubyn,
I culd not schaw quhat cure and deligence
Had sueit Jhesu, þe mannis saule to wyn,
Born for our saik, and syn slane for our syn;
Till hevin ascendit, till him a gid to be,
His blude in drink, in meit left his bodie.

CCXXVIII

His discipillis baid with þat hevinly queyne
Intill Syoun at þair deuocioun,
Graithand þair mynd [and] conscience makand cleyne
Of þe gude Spreit to tak remissioun.
For Jhesu said or his ascencioun:
Ȝe sall all heir in þe ciete remane,
The Haly Gaist quhill I ȝou send agane.

CCXXIX

The tent day fra his ascencioun,
Quhen terce wes cumin, quhilk ix is of þe hour,
Out of þe hevin wes maid a suddane soun,
Lik to þe cumin of ane felloun schour.
And in þaim remanit in þat felloun stowr,
Quhair þair remanit a hundreth and twenty
Off his discipillis, bidand þat sycht to se.

CCXXX

In forme of fire þis Haly Spreit apperit,
Thair cludy mynd with fire wer to attend,
Quhilk dreid of dede had sa [with] trublance [sperit],
That Crist to grant wes nane þat durst pretend.
Bot fra to þaim þat confort wes send,
He þame inflambit so with cherite,
That for þe faith þai wer rady to de.

CCXXXI

O Etern God, quha hes wit to expreme
The subtill wirking of þe Haly Gaist,
Quhilk man fra ewill to God turnit sa cleyne?
Off his cumin, and he haue hap to taist,
He garris [the] occourar leif his gud in haist,
And him follow in gret powerte;
Ane hird a king, a propheit makis he.

CCXXXII

Off ane persewar he makis a protectour;
And of a cowart, quhilk denyit his name
Thris for ane word, or runyn wes ane hour,
He garris contempne all erdly pane; and þane
Aganis knychtis and princis him allane
Stand constantly, and Cristis faith defend;
Leif as ane postill, syn as a marter end.

CCXXXIII

With sic a man of craft aquent to be,
Quhilk is so without process of tyme,
It is richt gude till him, þat suddenlie
Wald be dischargit of all þe syn and cryme,
Quhairfor he suld susteyne etarnall pyne;
And his gret grace in schort tyme to retour
The lang offence done to þi Saluitour.

CCXXXIV

And euery man is sicker of his grace,
And he sa gret be of contritioun,
That he pretend, and he haue tyme and space,
Off his synnis to mak confessioun,
Als he may mak satisfactioun,
And syne no mair his Maker to offend,
And be with me vnto þe warldis end.

CCXXXV

O Sueit Jhesu! o Saluiour souerane!
O Goddis Sone, in manheid immortall!
Quhilk on þe croce sufferit [gret wo and] pane,
The banist man to grace for to reabill;
Into þi grace þe cristin pepill stabill,
In hevin[nis] empire þat þai þi face may se
Withouttin end! Amen, for þi marcy.

HEir endis the passioun of our Lord Jhesu crist

compilit be maister Walter Kennedy.

University of Virginia Library

PIOUS COUNSALE.

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ANE AIGIT MANIS INVECTIVE AGAINST MOUÞ ÞANKLESS.

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THE PRAISE OF AIGE.

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THE PASSIOUN OF CHRIST.

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FERIA QUARTA. TRADITIO DOMINI.

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FERIA QUINTA. AD VESPERAS.

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IN THE FIRST COMPLYN.

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