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[Rome]
INPERATOR.

I command sylyns, in þe peyn of forfetur,
To all myn avdyeans present general!
Of my most hyest and mytyest wolunte,
I woll it be knowyn to al þe word vnyversal
That of heven and hell chyff rewlar am I,
To wos magnyfycens non stondyt egall!
For I am soveren of al soverens subjugal
Onto myn empere, beyng incomparable
Tyberyus Sesar, wos power is potencyall!

I am þe blod ryall most of soverente—
Of all emperowers and kyngys my byrth is best,
And all regeouns obey my myty volunte!
Lyfe and lem and goodys all be at my request!
So, of all soverens, my magnyfycens most mytyest
May nat be agaynsayd of frend nor of foo,
But all abydyn jvgment and rewle of my lyst.
All grace vpon erth from my goodnes commyt fro,
And þat bryngis all pepell in blysse so!
For þe most worthyest, woll I rest in my sete!

SERYBYL.
Syr, from your person growyt moch grace!

INPERATOR.

Now, for þin answer, Belyall blysse þi face!
Mykyl presporyte I gyn to porchase—
I am wonddyn in welth from all woo!

Herke þou, provost, I gyff þe in commandment
All your pepull preserve in pesabyl possessyon.
Yff ony þer be to my goddys [dys]obedyent,
Dyssevyr tho harlottys and make to me declaracyon.
And I xall make all swych to dye,
Thos precharsse of Crystys incarnacyon!

PROVOST.
Lord of all lorddys, I xall gyff yow informacyon.

INPERATOR.

Lo, how all þe word obeyit my domynacyon!
That person is nat born þat dare me dysseobey!

Syrybbe, I warne yow, se þat my lawys
In all your partyys have dew obeysavns!
Inquere and aske, eche day þat davnnys
Yf in my pepul be fovnd ony weryouns
Contrary to me in ony chansse,
Or wyth my goldyn goddys grocth or grone!
I woll marre swych harlottys wyth mordor and myschanse!

Yff ony swyche remayn, put hem in repreffe,
And I xall yow releff!

SERYBB.
Yt xall be don, lord, wythowtyn ony lett or wythowt doth!

INPERATOR.
Lord and lad to my law doth lowte!
Is it nat so? Sey yow all wyth on showte!

Here answerryt all þe pepul at onys:
‘Ȝa, my lord, ȝa!‘

INPERATOR.
So ye froward folkys, now am [I] plesyd!
Sett wyn and spycys to my consell full cler.
Now have I told yow my hart, I am wyll plesyd.
Now lett vs sett don alle, and make good chyr!

[The Castle of Magdalen]
Her entyr Syrus, þe fader of Mary Mavdleyn.
SYRUS.

Emperor and ky[n]ggys and conquerors kene,
Erlys and borons and knytys þat byn bold,
Berdys in my bower so semely to senne,
I commav[n]d yow at onys my hestys to hold!
Behold my person, glysteryng in gold,
Semely besyn of all other men!
Cyrus is my name, be cleffys so cold!
I command yow all obedyent to beyn!

Woso woll nat, in bale I hem bryng,
And knett swyche caytyfys in knottys of care!
Thys castell of Mavdleyn is at my wylddyng,
Wyth all þe contre, bothe lesse and more,
And lord of Jherusalem! Who agens me don dare?
Alle Beteny at my beddyng be;
I am sett in solas from al syyng sore,
And so xall all my posteryte
Thus for to leuen in rest and ryalte.

I have her a sone þat is ful trew to me—
No comlyar creatur of Goddys creacyon;
To amyabyll dovctors full brygth of ble;
Ful gloryos to my syth, an ful of delectacyon;
Lazarus my son, in my resspeccyon,
Here is Mary, ful fayur and ful of femynyte,
And Martha, ful [of] bevte and of delycyte,
Ful of womanly merrorys and of benygnyte.
Þey haue fulfyllyd my hart wyth consolacyon.

Here is a coleccyon of cyrcumstance—
To my cognysshon nevyr swych anothyr,
As be demonstracyon knett in contynens,
Save alonly my lady þat was þer mother!
Now, Lazarus my sonne, whech art þer brothyr,
The lordshep of Jherusalem I gyff þe aftyr my dysses,
And Mary, thys castell alonly, an non othyr;
And Martha xall haue Beteny, I sey exprese.
Thes gyftys I gravnt yow wythowtyn les,

Whyll þat I am in good mynd!

LAZARUS.
Most reuerent father, I thank yow hartely
Of yower grett kyndnes shuyd onto me!
Ye haue gravntyd swych a lyfelod worthy
Me to restreyn from all nessesyte.
Now, good Lord, and hys wyll it be,
Gravnt me grace to lyue to thy plesowans,
And aȝens hem so to rewle me,
Thatt we may haue joye wythowtyn weryauns.

MARY MAV[DLEYN].

Thou God of pes and pryncypall covnsell,
More swetter is þi name þan hony be kynd!
We thank yow, fathyr, for your gyftys ryall,
Owt of peynys of poverte vs to onbynd.
Thys is a preseruatyff from streytnes we fynd,
From wordly labors to my covmfortyng,
For thys lyfflod is abyll for þe dowtter of a kyng,

Thys place of plesavns, þe soth to seye!

MARTHA.
O, ye good fathyr of grete degre,
Thus to departe wyth your ryches,
Consederyng ower lowlynes and humylyte,
Vs to save from wordly dessetres!
Ȝe shew vs poyntys of grete jentylnes,
So mekly to meyntyn vs to your grace.
Hey in heuen awansyd mot yow be
In blysse, to se þat Lordys face
Whan ye xal hens passe!

CYRUS.
Now I reioyse wyth all my mygthtys!
To enhanse my chyldryn, it was my delyte!
Now, wyn and spycys, ȝe jentyll knyttys,
Onto þes ladys of jentylnes.

Here xal þey be servyd wyth wyn and spycys.
[Rome]
INPERATOR.
Syr provost, and skrybe, juggys of my rem,
My massengyr I woll send into ferre cuntre,
Onto my sete of Jherusalem
Onto Herowdes, þat regent þer ondyr me,
And onto Pylat, juggys of þe covntre—
Myn entent I woll hem teche.
Take hed, þou provost, my precept wretyn be,
And sey, I cummavnd hem as þey woll be [wyth]owt wrech,
Yf þer be ony in þe cuntre ageyn my law doth prech,

Or ageyn my goddys ony trobyll tellys,
That thus agens my lawys rebellys,
As he is regent and in þat reme dwellys,
And holdyth hys crovn of me be ryth,
Yff þer be ony harlettys þat agens me make replycacyon,
Or ony moteryng aȝens me make wyth malynacyon.

PROVOST.
Syr, of all thys they xall have informacyon,
So to vphold ȝower renovn and ryte!

[INPERATOR].
Now, massengyr, wythowtyn taryyng,
Have here gold onto þi fe.
So bere thes lettyrs to Herowdes þe kyng,
And byd hem make inquyrans in euery cuntre,
As he is jugge in þat cuntre beyng!

NVNCYUS.
Soueren, your arend it xall be don ful redy
In alle þe hast þat I may.
For to fullfyll your byddyng
I woll nat spare, nother be nyth nor be day!

Here goth þe masengyr toward Herowdes.
[Jerusalem—Herod's Palace]
HEROWDES.
In þe wyld, wanyng word, pes all at onys!
No noyse, I warne yow, for greveyng of me!
Yff yow do, I xal hovrle of yower hedys, be Mahondys bonys,
As I am trew kyng to Mahond so fre!
Help! Help, þat I had a swerd!
Fall don, ye faytours, flatt to þe grovnd!
Heve of your hodys and hattys, I cummavnd yow alle!
Stond bare hed, ye beggars! Wo made yow so bold?
I xal make yow know your kyng ryall!
Thus woll I be obeyyd thorow al the word,
And whoso wol nat, he xal be had in hold,
And so to be cast in carys cold,
That werkyn ony wondyr aȝens my magnyfycens!
Behold these ryche rybyys, red as ony fyr,
Wyth þe goodly grene perle full sett abowgth!
What kyng is worthy, or egall to my power?

Or in thys word who is more had in dowt
Than is þe hey name of Herowdes, Kyng of Jherusalem,
Lord of Alapye, Assye, and Tyr,
Of Abyron, Berȝaby, and Bedlem?
All thes byn ondyr my governouns!
Lo, all þes I hold wythowtyn reprobacyon!
No man is to me egall, save alonly þe emperower
Tyberyus, as I have in provostycacyon!
How sey þe phylyssoverys be my ryche reyne?
Am nat I þe grettest governowur?
Lett me ondyrstond whatt can ye seyn!

PHELYSOFYR.

Soueren, and it plece yow, I woll expresse!
Ye be þe rewlar of þis regyon,
And most worthy sovereyn of nobylnes
That euyr in Jude barre domynacyon!
Bott, syr, skreptour gevytt informacyon,
And doth rehersse it werely,
That chyld xal remayn of grete renovn,
And all the word of hem shold magnyfy:

‘Et ambulabunt gentes in lumine [tuo], et reges
In splendore ortus tui.’

HEROWDES.
And whatt seyst thow?

SECUNDUS PHY[LOSOFYR].

The same weryfyyt my bok as how,

As þe skryptour doth me tell
Of a myty duke xal rese and reyn,
Whych xall reyn and rewle all Israell.
No kyng aȝens hys worthynes xall opteyn,
The whech in profesy hath grett eloquence:

‘Non avferetur s[c]eptrum [de] Juda, et dux de
Femore eius, donec veniet [qui] mitendus est.’

HEROWDES.
A! Owt! Owt! Now am [I] grevyd all wyth þe worst!
Ȝe dastardys! Ye doggys! Þe dylfe mote yow draw!
Wyth fleyyng flappys I byd yow to a fest!

A swerd! A swerd! Þes lordeynnys wer slaw!
Ye langbaynnys! Losellys! Forsake ȝe þat word!
Þat caytyff xall be cawth, and suer I xall hem flaw
For hym many mo xal be marry[d] wyth mordor!

PRIMUS MILIS.
My sovereyn lord, dyssemay yow ryth nowt!
They ar but folys, þer eloquens wantyng;
For in sorow and care sone þey xall be cawt.
Aȝens vs þey can mak no dysstonddyng!

SECUNDUS MILES.
My lord, all swych xall be browte before your avdyens
And leuyn ondyr your domynacyon,
Or ellys dammyd to deth wyth mortal sentense,
Yf we hem gett ondyr ower gubernacyon!

HEROWDES.
Now thys is to me a gracyows exsortacyon,
And grettly reioysyth to my sprytys indede!
Thow þes sottys aȝens me make replycacyon,
I woll suffer non to spryng of þat kenred;
Some woys in my lond shall sprede,
Prevely or pertely in my lond abowth.
Whyle I haue swych men, I nede nat to drede
But þat he xal be browt ondyr, wythowtyn doth!

Her commyt þe emperowers [masengyr], þus sayyng to Herowdes:
MASENGYR.
Heyll, prynse of bovntyowsnesse!
Heyll, myty lord of to magnyfy!
Heyll, most of worchep of to expresse!
Heyll, reytyus rewlar in þi regensy!
My sofereyn Tyberyus, chyff of chyfalry,
Hys soveren sond hath sent to yow here:
He desyrth ȝow and preyyt on eche party
To fulfyll hys commavndment and desyre.

Here he xall take þe lettyrs onto þe kyng.

HERAWDES.

Be he sekyr I woll natt spare
For [to] complyshe hys cummavnddment,
Wyth sharp swerddys to perce þe[m] bare
In all covntres wythin thys regent,
For hys love to fulfyll hys intentt.
Non swych xall from ower handys stertt,
For we woll fulfyll hys ryall juggement
Wyth swerd and spere to perce [þem] thorow þe hartt!

But, masengyr, reseyve thys lettyr wyth,
And ber ytt onto Pylattys syth!

MESENGYR.
My lord, it xall be don ful wygth.
In hast I woll me spede!

[Jerusalem—Pilate's palace]
PYLATT.

Now ryally I reyne in robys of ryche[e]sse,
Kyd and knowyn both ny and ferre
For juge of Jherusalem, þe trewth to expresse,
Ondyr the Emperower Tyberius Cesar!
Þerfor I rede yow all bewarre
Ye do no pregedyse aȝen þe law!
For and ȝe do, I wyll yow natt spare
Tyl ye haue jugment to be hangyd and draw!

For I am Pylat, pr[o]mmyssary and pres[e]dent!
Alle renogat robber inperrowpent,
To put hem to peyn, I spare for no pete!
My serjauntys semle, qwat s[e]ye ye?
Of þis rehersyd I wyll natt spare!
Plesauntly, syrrys, avnswer to me,
For in my herte I xall haue þe lesse care.

PRIMUS SERIUNT.
As ye haue seyd, I hold it for þe best,
Yf ony swych among vs may we know!

SECUNDUS SERJAWNT.
For to gyff hem jugment I holdd yt best,
And so xall ye be dred of hye and low!

PYLAT.
A, now I am restoryd to felycyte!

Her comyt þe Emprorys masengyr to Pylat.
MASENGYR.
Heyll, ryall in rem, in robis of rychesse!
Heyl, present þou prynsys pere!
Heyl, jugge of Jherusalem, þe trewth to expresse!
Tyberyus þe Emprower sendyt wrytyng herre,
And prayyt yow, as yow be hys lovyr dere,
Of þis wrytyng to take avysement
In strenthyng of hys lawys cleyr,
As he hath set yow in þe state of jugment.

Her Pylat takyt þe lettyrs wyth grete reverens.
PYLAT.
Now, be Martys so mythy, I xal sett many a snare,
Hys lawys to strenth in al þat I may.
I rejoyse of hys renown and of hys wylfare,
And for þi tydynggys I geyff þe þis gold today.

MASENGYR.
A largeys, ȝe, lord, I crye þis day,
For þis is a ȝeft of grete degre!

PYLAT.
Masengyr, onto my sovereyn þou sey,
On þe most specyall wyse recummend me!

Her avoydyt þe masengyr, and Syrus takyt hys deth.
[The Castle of Magdalen]
SYRUS.
A, help, help! I stond in drede!
Syknes is sett ondyr my syde!
A, help! Deth wyll aquyte me my mede!
A, gret God, þou be my gyde!
How I am trobyllyd, both bak and syde!
Now, wythly help me to my bede.

A! This rendyt my rybbys! I xall nevyr goo nor ryde!
The dent of deth is hevyar þan led!
A, lord, lord, what xal I doo þis tyde?
A, gracyows God, have ruth on me,
In thys word no lengar to abyde!
I blys yow, my chyldyrn, God mot wyth vs be!

Her avoydyt Syrus sodenly, and than sayyng Lazarus:
LAZARUS.
Alas! I am sett in grete hevynesse!
Þer is no tong my sorow may tell,
So sore I am browth in dystresse!
In feyntnes I falter for [þ]is fray fell!
Thys dewresse wyl lett me no longar dwelle,
But God of grace sone me redresse!
A, how my peynys don me repelle!
Lord, wythstond þis duresse!

MARY MAGLEYN.
The inwyttyssymus God þat euyr xal reyne,
Be hys help an sowlys sokor!
To whom it is most nedfull to cumplayn,
He to bry[n]g vs owt of ower dolor;
He is most mytyest governowre,
From soroyng vs to restryne.

MARTHA.
A, how I am sett in sorowys sad,
That long my lyf Y may nat indevre!
Thes grawous peynys make me ner mad!
Vnder clowyr is now my fathyris cure,
Þat sumtyme was here ful mery and glad.
Ower Lordys mercy be hys mesure,
And defeynd hym from peynys sad.

LAZARUS.
Now, systyrs, ower fatherys wyll we woll exprese;
Thys castell is owerys wyth all þe fee!

MARTHA.
As hed and governower, as reson is,
And on þis wyse abydyn wyth yow wyll wee.
We wyll natt desevyr, whattso befalle!

MARIA.
Now, brothyr and systyr, welcum ȝe be,
And therof specyally I pray ȝow all!

[Stages of the World, Flesh and Devil, consecutively]
Her xal entyr þe Kyng of the Word, þe Flesch, and þe Dylfe, wyth þe Seuen Dedly Synnys, a Bad Angyll, an an Good Angyl, þus seyyng þe Word:
[WORD].

I am þe Word, worthyest þat euyr God wrowth,
And also I am þe prymatt portature
Next heueyn, yf þe trewth be sowth,
And that I jugge me to skryptur;
And I am he þat lengest xal induere,
And also most of domynacyon!
Yf I be hys foo, woo is abyll to recure?
For þe whele of fortune wyth me hath sett hys senture.

In me restyt þe ordor of þe metellys seuyn,
Þe whych to þe seuen planyttys ar knett ful sure:
Gold perteynyng to þe sonne, as astronemere nevyn;
Sylvyr to þe mone, whyte and pure;
Iryn onto þe Maris þat long may endure;
Þe fegetyff mercury onto Mercuryus;
Copyr onto Venus, red in hys merrour;
The frangabyll tyn to Jubyter, yf ȝe can dyscus;

On þis planyt Saturne, ful of rancure,
Þis soft metell led, nat of so gret puernesse;
Lo, alle þis rych tresor wyth þe Word doth indure—
The seuyn prynsys of hell, of gret bowntosnesse!
Now, who may presume to com to my honour?

PRYDE.

Ȝe, worthy Word, ȝe be gronddar of gladnesse

To þem þat dwellyn ondyr yower domynacyon!

COVETYSE.
And whoso wol nat, he is sone set asyde
Wheras I, Couetyse, take mynystracyon!

MUNDUS.
Of þat I pray yow, make no declareracyon!
Make swych to know my soverreynte,
And than þey xal be fayn to make supplycacyon,
Yf þat þey stond in ony nesessyte.

Her xal entyr þe Kynge of Flesch, wyth Slowth, Gloteny, Lechery.
FLESCH.

I, Kyng of Flesch, florychyd in my flowers,
Of deyntys delycyows I have grett domynacyon!
So ryal a kyng was neuyr borne in bowrys,
Nor hath more delyth, ne more delectacyon!
For I haue comfortatywys to my comfortacyon:
Dya galonga, ambra, and also margaretton—
Alle þis is at my lyst, aȝens alle vexacyon!

All wykkyt thyngys I woll sett asyde.
Clary, pepur long, wyth granorum paradysy,
Zenzybyr and synamom at euery tyde—
Lo, alle swych deyntyys delycyus vse I!

Wyth swyche deyntyys I have my blysse!
Who woll covett more game and gle,
My fayere spowse Lechery to halse and kysse?
Here ys my knyth Gloteny, as good reson is,
Wyth þis plesavnt lady to rest be my syde.
Here is Slowth, anothyr goodly of to expresse!
A more plesavnt compeny doth nowher abyde!

LUXURIA.
O ye prynse, how I am ful of ardent lowe,
Wyth sparkyllys ful of amerowsnesse!
Wyth yow to rest fayn wold I aprowe,
To shew plesavns to your jentylnesse!

ÞE FLESCH.
O ȝe bewtews byrd, I must yow kysse!
I am ful of lost to halse yow þis tyde!

Here xal entyr þe prynse of dyllys in a stage, and helle ondyrneth þat stage, þus seyyng þe Dylfe:

DYLFE.
Now I, prynse pyrles, prykkyd in pryde,
Satan, [ȝ]ower sovereyn, set wyth euery cyrcumstanse,
For I am atyred in my towyr to tempt yow þis tyde!
As a kyng ryall I sette at my plesavns,
Wyth Wroth [and] Invy at my ryall retynawns!
The bolddest in bowyr I bryng to abaye,
Mannis sowle to besegyn and bryng to obeysavns!
Ȝa, [wyth] tyde and tyme I do þat I may!
For at hem I haue dysspyte þat he xold haue þe joye
That Lycyfer with many a legyown lost for þer pryde.
Þe snarys þat I xal set wher nevyr set at Troye!
So I thynk to besegyn hem be every waye wyde—
I xal getyn hem from grace whersoeuyr he abyde—
That body and sowle xal com to my hold,
Hym for to take!
Now, my knythtys so stowth,
Wyth me ye xall ron in rowte,
My consell to take for a skowte,
Whytly þat we were went for my sake!

WRATH.
Wyth wrath or wyhyllys we xal hyrre wynne!

ENVY.
Or wyth sum sotyllte sett hur in synne!

DYLFE.
Com of, þan, let vs begynne
To werkyn hure sum wrake!

Her xal þe Deywl go to þe Word wyth hys compeny.
SATAN.
Heyle, Word, worthyest of abowndans!
In hast we must a conseyll take!
Ye must aply yow wyth all your afyavns,
A woman of whorshep ower servant to make.

MUNDUS.
Satan, wyth my consell I wyll þe awansse!
I pray þe, cum vp onto my tent.
Were þe Kyng of Flesch her wyth hys asemlaunvs!
Masengyr! Anon, þat þou werre went
Thys tyde!
Sey þe Kyng of Flesch wyth grete renown,
Wyth hys consell þat to hym be bown,
In alle þe hast þat euyr they mown,
Com as fast as he may ryde!

MASENGYR.
My lord, I am your servant, Sensvalyte!
Your masege to don, I am of glad chyr!
Ryth sone in presens ȝe xal hym se,
Your wyl for to fulfylle her!

Her he goth to þe Flesch, thus seyyng:
[MASENGYR].
Heyl, lord in lond, led wyth lykyng!
Heyl, Flesch in lust, fayyrest to behold!
Heyl, lord and ledar of emprore and kyng!
Þe worthy Word, be wey and wold,
Hath sent for yow and your consell!
Satan is sembled wyth hys howshold,
Your cov[n]seyl to haue, most fo[r] aweyle.

FLESCH.
Hens in hast, þat we þer wh[e]re!
Lett vs make no lengar delay.

SENSWALITE.
Gret myrth to þer hertys shold yow arere,
Be my trowth I dare safly saye!

Her comyt þe Kyng of Flesch to þe Word, þus seyyng:
[FLESCH].
Heyl be yow, soverens lefe and dere!
Why so hastely do ȝe for me send?

MUNDUS.
A! We are ryth glad we haue yow here,
Ower covnsell togethyr to comprehend!
Now, Satan, sey your devyse!

SATAN.
Serys, now ye be set, I xal yow say:
Syrus dyyd þis odyr day—
Now Mary, hys dowctor, þat may,
Of þat castel beryt þe pryse.

MUNDUS.
Sertenly, serys, I yow telle,
Yf she in vertu stylle may dwelle,
She xal byn abyll to dystroye helle,
But yf your cov[n]seyll may othyrwyse devyse!

FLESCH.
Now ye, Lady Lechery, yow must don your attendans,
For yow be flowyr fayrest of femynyte!
Yow xal go desyyr servyse, and byn at hure atendavns,
For ȝe xal sonest entyr, ȝe beral of bewte!

LECHERY.
Serys, I abey your covnsell in eche degre—
Stryttwaye þethyr woll I passe!

SATAN.

Spiritus malyngny xal com to þe,
Hyre to tempt in euery plase.
Now alle þe six þat here be,

Wysely to werke, hyr fawor to wynne,
To entyr hyr person be þe labor of lechery,
Þat she at þe last may com to helle.

How, how, spiritus malyng—þou wottyst what I mene?
Cum owt, I sey! Heryst nat what I seye?

BAD ANGYLL.
Syrrys, I obey your covnsell in eche degree;
Stryttwaye þethyr woll I passe!
Speke soft, speke soft, I trotte hyr to tene!
I prey þe pertly, make no more noyse!

[The Castle of Magdalen]
Her xal alle þe Seuyn Dedly Synnys besege þe castell tyll [Mary] agre to go to Jherusalem. Lechery xall entyr þe castell wyth þe Bad Angyl, þus seyyng Lechery:
[LECHERY].
Heyl, lady most lavdabyll of alyauvns!
Heyl, oryent as þe sonne in hys reflexite!
Myche pepul be comfortyd be your benyng afyavuns.
Bryter þan þe bornyd is your bemys of bewte,
Most debonarius wyth your aungelly delycyte!

MARYA.
Qwat personne be ȝe, þat þus me comende?

LUXURYA.
Your servant to be, I wold comprehende!

MARY.
Your debonarius obedyauns ravysst me to trankquelyte!
Now, syth ye desyre in eche degree,
To receyve yow I have grett delectacyon!
Ȝe be hartely welcum onto me—
Your tong is so amyabyll, devydyd wyth reson.

LUXURYA.
Now, good lady, wyll ȝe me expresse
Why may þer no gladdnes to yow resort?

MARY.
For my father I haue had grett heuynesse—
Whan I remembyr, my mynd waxit mort.

LUXSURYA.
Ȝa, lady, for all þat, be of good comfort,
For swych obusyouns may brede myche dysese.
Swych desepcyouns potyt peynys to exsport;
Prynt yow in sportys whych best doth yow plese!

MARY.
Forsothe, ye be welcum to myn hawdyens!
Ye be my hartys leche!
Brother Lazarus, and it be yower plesauns,
And ȝe, systyr Martha, also, in substawns
Thys place I commend onto your governons,
And onto God I yow beteche!

LAZARUS.
Now, systyr, we xal do your intente,
In thys place to be resydent,
Whyle þat ȝe be absent,
To kepe þis place from wreche!

[Jerusalem—a Tavern]
Here takyt Mary hur wey to Jherusalem wyth Luxsurya, and þey xal resort to a tavernere. þus seyy[n]g þe tavernere:
TAVERNER.

I am a taverner, wytty and wyse,
That wynys haue to sell gret plente!
Of all þe taverners, I bere þe pryse,
That be dwellyng wythinne þe cete!
Of wynys I haue grete plente,
Both whyte wynne and red þat [is] so cleyre.

Here ys wynne of Mawt and malmeseyn,
Clary wynne, and claret, and other moo;
Wyn of Gyldyr, and of Gallys, þat made at þe Groine,
Wyn of Wyan and Vernage, I seye also—
Ther be no bettyr as ferre as ȝe can goo!

LUXSU[R]YA.
Lo, lady, þe comfort and þe sokower
Go we ner and take a tast—
Thys xal bryng your sprytys to fawor!
Tavernere, bryng vs of þe fynnest þou hast!

TAVERNERE.
Here, lady, is wyn, a repast,
To man and woman a good restoratyff.
Ȝe xall nat thynk your mony spent in wast—
From stodyys and hevynes it woll yow relyff!

MARY.
Ywys, ȝe seye soth, ȝe grom of blysse!
To me ȝe be covrtes and kynde.

Her xal entyr a galavnt, þus seyyng:
GALAVNT.

Hof, hof, hof! A frysch new galavnt!
Ware of thryst, ley þat adoune!
What? Wene ȝe, syrrys, þat I were a marchant,
Becavse þat I am new com to town?
Wyth sum praty tasppysstere wold I fayne rownd!
I haue a shert of reynnys wyth slevys peneawnt,
A lase of sylke for my lady constant!
A, how she is bewtefull and ressplendant!

Whan I am from hyre presens, Lord, how I syhe!
I wol awye sovereyns, and soiettys I dysdeyne!
In wyntyr a stomachyr, in somyr non att al;
My dobelet and my hossys euyr together abyde.
I woll, or euen, be shavyn for to seme ȝyng!
Wyth here aȝen þe her I love mych pleyyng—
That makyt me ileȝant and lusty in lykyng.
Thus I lefe in þis word, I do it for no pryde!

LUXSURYA.
Lady, þis man is for ȝow, as I se can,
To sett yow i[n] sporttys and talkyng þis tyde!

MARY.
Cal hym in, tavernere, as ȝe my loue wyll han,
And we xall make ful mery yf he wolle abyde!

TAVERNERE.
How, how, my mastyre Coryossyte!

CORYOSTE.
What is your wyll, syr? What wyl ȝe wyth me?

TAVERNERE.
Here ar jentyll women dysyore your presens to se,
And for to drynk wyth yow thys tyde.

CORYOSTE.
A, dere dewchesse, my daysyys iee!
Splendavnt of colour, most of femynyte,
Your sofreyn colourrys set wyth synseryte!
Consedere my loue into yower alye,
Or ellys I am smet wyth peynnys of perplexite!

MARI.
Why, syr, wene ȝe þat I were a kelle?

CORIOSTE.
Nay, prensses, parde, ȝe be my hertys hele,
So wold to God ȝe wold my loue fele!

MARI.
Qwat cavse þat ȝe love me so sodenly?

CORIOSTE.
O nedys I mvst, myn own lady!
Your person, itt is so womanly,
I can not refreyn me, swete lelly!

MARI.
Syr, curtesy doth it yow lere!

CORIOSTE.
Now, gracyus gost wythowtyn pere,
Mych nortur is þat ȝe conne.
But wol yow dawns, my own dere?

MARY.
Syr, I asent in good maner.
Go ȝe before, I sue yow nere,
For a man at alle tymys beryt reverens.

CORIOSTE.
Now, be my trowth, ȝe be wyth other ten.
Felle a pese, tavernere, let vs sen—
Soppys in wynne, how love ȝe [þos]?

MARI.
As ȝe don, so doth me.
I am ryth glad þat met be we—
My loue in yow gynnyt to close!

CORYOSTE.
Now, derlyng dere, wol yow do be my rede?
We haue dronkyn and ete lytyl brede—
Wyll we walk to another stede?

MARI.
Ewyn at your wyl, my dere derlyng!
Thowe ȝe wyl go to þe wordys eynd,
I wol neuyr from yow wynd,
To dye for your sake!

Here xal Mary and þe galont awoyd, and þe Bad Angyll goth to þe Word, þe Flych, and þe Dylfe, þus sayyng þe Bad Angyl:
[BAD ANGYL].
A lorges, a lorges, lorddys alle at onys!
Ȝe haue a servant fayur and afyabylle,
For she is fallyn in ower grogly gromys!
Ȝa, Pryde, callyd Corioste, to hure is ful lavdabyll,
And to hure he is most preysseabyll,
For she hath gravnttyd hym all hys bonys!
She thynkyt hys person so amyabyll,
To here syte, he is semelyare þan ony kyng in tronys!

DIAB[O]LUS.
A, how I tremyl and trott for þese tydyngys!
She is a soveryn servant þat hath hure fet in synne!
Go thow agayn and ewyr be hur gyde!
Þe lavdabyll lyfe of lecherry let hur neuyr lynne,
For of hure al helle xall make reioysseyng!

Here goth þe bad angyl to Mari agayn.
REX DIABOLUS.
Farewell, farewell, ȝe to nobyl kyngys þis tyde,
For hom in hast I wol me dresse!

MUNDUS.
Farewell, Satan, prynsse of pryde!

FLESCH.
Farewell, sem[l]yest alle sorowys to sesse!

Here xal Satan go hom to hys stage, and Mari xal entyr into þe place alone, save þe Bad Angyl, and al þe Seuen Dedly Synnys xal be conveyyd into þe howse of Symont Leprovs, þey xal be arayyd lyke seuen dylf, þus kept closse; Mari xal be in an erbyr, þus seyyng:

MARI.
A, God be wyth my valentynys,
My byrd swetyng, my lovys so dere!
For þey be bote for a blossum of blysse!
Me mervellyt sore þey be nat here,
But I woll restyn in þis erbyre,
Amons thes bamys precyus of prysse,
Tyll som lovyr wol apere
That me is wont to halse and kysse.

Her xal Mary lye doun and slepe in þe erbyre.
SYMOND LEPRUS.

Thys day holly I pot in rememberowns,
To solas my gestys to my power;
I haue ordeynnyd a dynere of substawns,
My chyff freyndys þerwyth to chyre.
Into þe sete I woll apere,
For my gestys to make porvyawns,
For tyme drayt ny to go to dyner,
And my offycyrs be redy wyth þer ordynowns.

So wold to God I myte have aqueyntowns
Of þe Profyth of trew perfytnesse,
To com to my place and porvyowns;
It wold rejoyse my hert in gret gladnesse,
For þe report of hys hye nobyllnesse
Rennyt in contreys fer and nere—
Hys precheyng is of gret perfythnes,
Of rythwysnesse, and mercy cleyre.

Here entyr Symont into þe place, þe Good Angyll þus seyyng to Mary:
[GOOD ANGYLL].
Woman, woman, why art þou so onstabyll?
Ful bytterly thys blysse it wol be bowth!
Why art þou aȝens God so veryabyll?
Wy, thynkys þou nat God made þe of nowth?
In syn and sorow þou art browth,
Fleschly lust is to þe full delectabyll;
Salue for þi sowle must be sowth,
And leve þi werkys wayn and veryabyll!

Remembyr, woman, for þi pore pryde,
How þi sowle xal lyyn in helle fyre!
A, remembyr how sorowful itt is to abyde,
Wythowtyn eynd in angure and ir!
Remembyr þe on mercy, make þi sowle clyre!
I am þe gost of goodnesse þat so wold þe gydde.

MARY.

A, how þe speryt of goodnesse hat promtyt me þis tyde,
And temtyd me wyth tytyll of trew perfythnesse!
Alas, how betternesse in my hert doth abyde!
I am wonddyd wyth werkys of gret dystresse.
A, how pynsynesse potyt me to oppresse,
That I haue synnyd on euery syde!
O Lord, wo xall put me from þis peynfulnesse?
A, woo xal to mercy be my gostly gyde?

I xal porsue þe Prophett wherso he be,
For he is þe welle of perfyth charyte.
Be þe oyle of mercy he xal me relyff.
Wyth swete bawmys, I wyl sekyn hym þis syth,
And sadly folow hys lordshep in eche degre.

Here xal entyr þe Prophet wyth hys desyplys, þus seyyng Symont Leprus:
[SYMONT LEPRUS].
Now ye be welcom, mastyr, most of magnyfycens!
I beseche yow benyngly ȝe wol be so gracyows
Yf þat it be lekyng onto yower hye presens,
Thys daye to com dyne at my hows!

JHESUS.
Godamercy, Symont, þat þou wylt me knowe!
I woll entyr þi hows wyth pes and vnyte.
I am glad for to rest þer grace gynnyt grow.
For wythinne þi hows xal rest charyte,
And þe bemys of grace xal byn illumynows.
But syth þou wytystsaff a dynere on me,
Wyth pes and grace I entyr þi hows.

SYMOND.

I thank yow, mastyr most benyng and gracyus,
That yow wol, of your hye soverente.
To me itt is a joye most speceows,
Wythinne my hows þat I may yow se.

Now syt to þe bord, mastyrs alle!

Her xal Mary folow alonge, wyth þis lamentacyon:
MARY.

O I, cursyd cayftyff, þat myche wo hath wrowth
Aȝens my makar, of mytys most!
I have offendyd hym wyth dede and thowth,
But in hys grace is all my trost,
Or ellys I know well I am but lost,

Body and sowle damdpnyd perpetuall!
Ȝet, good Lord of lorddys, my hope [is] perhenuall
Wyth þe to stond in grace and fawour to se;
Thow knowyst my hart and thowt in especyal—
Therfor, good Lord, aftyr my hart reward me!

Her xal Mary wasche þe fett of þe prophet wyth þe terrys of hur yys, whypyng hem wyth hur herre, and þan anoynt hym wyth a precyus noyttment. Jhesus dicit:
[Symond looks on, doubtfully.]
[JHESUS].
Symond, I thank þe speceally
For þis grett r[e]past þat here hath be.
But Symond, I telle þe fectually,
I have thyngys to seyn to þe.

SYMOND.
Mastyr, qwat your wyll be,
And it plese yow, I well yow here;
Seyth your lykyng onto me,
And al þe plesawnt of your mynd and desyyr.

JHESUS.

Symond, þer was a man in þis present lyf,
The wyche had to dectours well suere,
Þe whych wher pore, and myth make no restoratyf,
But stylle in þer dett ded induour.
Þe on owt hym an hondyrd pense ful suere,

And þe other, fefty, so befell þe chanse;
And becawse he cowd nat hys mony recure,
They askyd hym forȝewnesse, and he forȝaf in substans.

But, Symont, I pray þe, answer me to þis sentens:
Whych of þes to personnys was most beholddyn to þat man?

SYMOND.
Mastyr, and it plese your hey presens,
He þat most owt hym, as my reson ȝef can.

JHESUS.

Recte ivdicasti! Þou art a wyse man,
And þis quessyon hast dempte trewly.
Yff þou in þi concyens remembyr can,
Ȝe to be þe dectours þat I of specefy.

But, Symond, behold þis woman in all wyse,
How she wyth terys of hyr bettyr wepyng
She wassheth my fete and dothe me servyse,
And anoytyt hem wyth onymentys, lowly knelyng
And wyth hur her, fayur and brygth shynnyng,
She wypeth hem agayn wyth good entent.

But, Symont, syth that I entyrd þi hows,
To wasshe my fete þou dedyst nat aplye,
Nor to wype my fete þou were nat so faworus;
Wherfor, in þi conscyens, þou owttyst nat to replye!
But, woman, I sey to þe, werely,
I forgeyffe þe þi wrecchednesse,
And hol in sowle be þou made þerby!

MARIA.

O, blessyd be þou, Lord of euyrlastyng lyfe,
And blyssyd be þi berth of þat puer vergynne!
Blyssyd be þou, repast contemplatyf,
Aȝens my seknes, helth and medsyn!

And for þat I haue synnyd in þe synne of pryde,
I wol enabyte me wyth humelyte.
Aȝens wrath and envy, I wyll devyde
Thes fayur vertuys, pacyens and charyte.

JHESUS.
Woman, in contryssyon þou art expert,
And in þi sowle hast inward mythe,
That sumtyme were in desert,
And from therknesse hast porchasyd lyth.
Thy feyth hath savyt þe, and made þe bryth!
Wherfor I sey to þe, ‘Vade in pace.‘

Wyth þis word seuyn dyllys xall dewoyde from þe woman, and the Bad Angyll entyr into hell wyth thondyr.
[MARIA.]
O þou, gloryus Lord, þis rehersyd for my sped,
Sowle helth attys tyme for to recure.
Lord, for þat I was in whanhope, now stond I in dred,
But þat þi gret mercy wyth me may endure.
My thowth þou knewyst wythowttyn ony dowth.
Now may I trost þe techeyng of Isaye in scryptur,
Wos report of þi nobyllnesse rennyt fere abowt!

JHESUS.
Blyssyd be þey at alle tyme
That sen me nat, and have me in credens.
Wyth contryssyon þou hast mad a recumpens
Þi sowle to save from all dystresse.
Beware, and kepe þe from alle neclygens,
And aftyr, þou xal be partenyr of my blysse!

Here devodyt Jhesus wyth hys desipyllys, þe Good Angyll reioysyng of Mawdleyn:
BONUS ANGELUS.

Holy God, hyest of omnipotency,
The astat of good governouns to þe I recummend,
Humbylly besecheyng þyn inperall glorye
In þi devyn vertu vs to comprehend.

And, delectabyll Jhesu, soverreyn sapyens,
Ower feyth we recummend onto your pur pete,
Most mekely prayyng to your holy aparens,
Illumyn ower ygnorans wyth your devynyte!

Ye be clepyd Redempcyon of sowlys defens,
Whyche shal ben obscuryd be þi blessyd mortalyte.
O Lux Vera, gravnt vs ȝower lucense,
That wyth þe spryte of errour I nat seduet be!

And, Sperytus Alme, to yow most benyne,
Thre persons in Trenyte, and on God eterne,
Most lowly ower feyth we consyngne,
Þat we may com to your blysse gloryfyed from malyngne,
And wyth your gostely bred to fede vs, we desyern.

[Hell Stage]
REX DEABOLUS.
A! Owt, owt, and harrow! I am hampord wyth hate!
In hast wyl I set our jugment to se!
Wyth thes betyll-browyd bycheys I am at debate!
How, Belfagour and Belzabub! Com vp here to me!

Here aperytt to dyvllys before þe mastyr.
SECUNDUS DIABOLUS.
Here, lord, here! Qwat wol ȝe?

REX DIABOLUS.

The jugment of harlottys here to se,
Settyng in judycyal-lyke astate.

How, thow bad angyll! Apere before my grace!

SPIRITUS MALIGNI.
As flat as fox, I falle before your face!

REX DIABOLUS.
Thow theffe! Wy hast þou don all þis trespas,
To lett yen woman þi bondys breke?

MALINUS SPIRITUS.
The speryt of grace sore ded hyr smyth,
And temptyd so sore þat ipocryte!

REX DIABOLUS.

Ȝa, thys hard balys on þi bottokkys xall byte!
In hast, on þe I wol be wreke!

Cum vp, ȝe horsons, and skore awey þe yche,
And wyth thys panne, ȝe do hym pycche!
Cum of, ȝe harlottys, þat yt wer don!

Here xall þey serva all þe seuyn as þey do þe frest.

REX DIABOLUS.
Now have I a part of my desyere!
Goo into þis howsse, ȝe lordeynnys here,
And loke ye set yt on afeyere—
And þat xall hem awake!

Here xall þe tother deyllys sett þe howse on afyere, and make a sowth, and Mari xall go to Lazar and to Martha.
REX DIABOLUS.
So! Now have we well afrayyd þese felons fals!
They be blasyd, both body and hals!
Now to hell lett vs synkyn als,
To ower felaws blake!

[The Castle of Magdalen]
MARI MAVGLEYN.

O brother, my hartys consolacyown!
O blessyd in lyff, and solytary!
The blyssyd Prophet, my comfortacyown,
He hathe made me clene and delectary,
The wyche was to synne a subiectary.
Thys Kyng, Cryste, consedyryd hys creacyown;
I was drynchyn in synne deversarye
Tyll þat Lord relevyd me be hys domynacyon.

Grace to me he wold nevyr denye;
Thowe I were nevyr so synful, he seyd, ‘Revertere’!
O, I, synful creature, to grace I woll aplye;
The oyle of mercy hath helyd myn infyrmyte.

MARTHA.
Now worchepyd be þat hey name Jhesu,
The wyche in Latyn is callyd Savyower!
Fulfyllyng þat word ewyn of dewe,
To alle synfull and seke, he is sokour.

LAZARE.
Systyr, ȝe be welcum onto yower towyre!
Glad in hart of yower obessyawnse,
Wheyl þat I leffe, I wyl serve hym wyth honour,
That ȝe have forsakyn synne and varyawns.

MARY MAGDALEN.
Cryst, þat is þe lyth and þe cler daye,
He hath oncuryd þe therknesse of þe clowdy nyth,
Of lyth þe lucens and lyth veray,
Wos prechyng to vs is a gracyows lyth,
Lord, we beseche þe, as þou art most of myth,
Owt of þe ded slep of therknesse, defend vs aye!
Gyff vs grace ewyr to rest in lyth,
In quyet and in pes to serve þe, nyth and day.

Here xall Lazar take hys deth, þus seyyng:
[LAZAR].
A! Help, help, systyrs, for charyte!
Alas! Dethe is sett at my hart!
A! Ley on handys! Wher are ȝe?
A, I faltyr and falle! I wax alle onquarte!
A, I bome above, I wax alle swertt!
A, good Jhesu, thow be my gyde!
A, no lengar now I reverte!
I yeld vp þe gost, I may natt abyde!

MARY MAGDALEN.
O, good brother! Take covmforth and myth,
And lett non heuynes in ȝower hart abyde!
Lett away alle þis feyntnesse and fretth,
And we xal gete yow leches, ȝower peynys to devyde.

MARTHA.

A, I syth and sorow, and sey, ‘Alas’!
Thys sorow ys apoynt to be my confusyon!
Jentyl systyr, hye we from þis place,
For þe Prophe[t] to hym hatt grett delectacyon.
Good brothere, take somme comfortacyon

For we woll go to seke yow[er] cure.

Here goth Mary and Martha, and mett wyth Jhesus, þus seyyng:
[MARY AND MARTHA].
O, Lord Jhesu, ower melleflueus swettnesse,
Thowe art grettest Lord in glorie!
Lovyr to þe, Lord, in all lowlynesse,
Comfort þi creatur þat to þe crye!
Behold yower lovyr, good Lord, specyally,

How Lazare lyth seke in grett dystresse.
He ys þi lovyr, Lord, suerly!
Onbynd hym, good Lord, of hys heuynesse!

JHESUS.

Of all infyrmyte, þer is non to deth.
For of all peynnys, þat is impossyble

To vndyrestond be reson; to know þe werke,
The joye þat is in Jherusallem heuenly,
Can nevyr be compylyd be covnnyng of clerke—
To se þe joyys of þe Fathyr in glory,
The joyys of þe Sonne whych owth to be magnyfyed,
And of þe Therd Person, þe Holy Gost, truly,
And alle thre but on in heuen gloryfyed!

Now, women þat arn in my presens here,
Of my wordys take awysement.
Go hom aȝen to yower brothyr Lazere—
My grace to hym xall be sent.

MARY MAGDALEN.
O, thow gloryus Lord here present,
We yeld to þe salutacyon!
In ower weyys we be expedyent.
Now, Lord, vs defend from trybulacyon!

Here goth Mary and Martha homvard, and Jhesus devodyt. [Castle of Magdalen]
LAZARUS.
A! In woo I waltyr as wawys in þe wynd!
Awey ys went all my sokour!
A, Deth, Deth, þou art onkynd!
A! A, now brystyt myn hartt! Þis is a sharp showyr!
Farewell, my systyrs, my bodely helth!

Mortuus est.
MARY MAGDALEN.
Jhesu, my Lord, be yower sokowre,
And he mott be yower gostys welth!

PRIMUS MILES.
Goddys grace mott be hys governour,
In joy euyrlastyng fore to be!

SECUNDUS MILES.
Amonge alle good sowlys, send hym favour,
As þi powere ys most of dygnyte!

MARTHA.
Now, syn þe chans is fallyn soo,
That deth hath drewyn hym don þis day,
We must nedys ower devyrs doo,
To þe erth to bryng hym wythowt delay.

MARY MAGDALEN.
As þe vse is now, and hath byn aye,
Wyth wepers to þe erth yow hym bryng.
Alle þis must be donne as I yow saye,
Clad in blake, wythowtyn lesyng.

PRIMUS MILES.
Gracyows ladyys of grett honour,
Thys pepull is com here in yower syth,
Wepyng and weylyng wyth gret dolour,
Becavse of my lordys dethe.

Here þe on knygth make redy þe ston, and other bryng in þe wepars, arayyd in blak.
PRIMUS MILES.
Now, good fryndys þat here be,
Take vp thys body wyth good wyll,
And ley it in hys sepoltur, semely to se;
Good Lord hym save from alle manyr ille!

Lay hym in. Here al þe pepyll resort to þe castell, þus seyyng Jhesus [in the place]:
[JHESUS].
Tyme ys comyn of very cognyssyon.
My dyssyplys, goth wyth me
For to fulfyll possybyll peticion;
Go we together into Jude,
There Lazar, my frynd, is he.
Gow we together as chyldyurn of lyth,
And, from grevos slepe, sawen heym wyll we!

DISSIPULYS.
Lord, it plese yower myty volunte,
Thow he slepe, he may be savyd be skyll.

JHESUS.

That is trew, and be possybilyte;
Therfor, of my deth shew yow I wyll.

My Fathyr, of nemyows charyte,
Sent me, hys Son, to make redemcyon,

Wyche was conseyvyd be puer verginyte,
And so in my mother had cler incarnacyon;
And þerfore must I suffyre grewos passyon
Ondyre Povnse Pylat, wyth grett perplexite,
Betyn, bobbyd, skoernyd, crownnyd wyth thorne—
Alle þis xall be þe soferons of my deite.

I, therfor, hastely folow me now,
For Lazar is ded, verely to preve;
Whe[r]for I am joyfull, I sey onto yow,
That I knowlege yow þerwyth, þat ye may it beleve.

Here xal Jhesus com wyth hys dissipulys, and on Jew tellyt Martha:
[JEW].
A, Martha, Martha! Be full of gladnesse!
For þe Prophett ys comyng, I sey trewly,
Wyth hys dyssypyllys in grett lowlynesse;
He shall yow comfortt wyth hys mercy.

Here Martha xall ronne aȝen Jhesus, þus seyyng:
[MARTHA].
A, Lord! Me, sympyl creatur, nat denye,
Thow I be wrappyd in wrecchydnesse!
Lord, and þou haddyst byn here, werely,
My brother had natt a byn ded—I know well thysse.

JHESUS DICIT.
Martha, docctor, onto þe I sey,
Thy brother xall reyse agayn!

MARTHA.
Yee, Lord, ar þe last day,
That I beleve ful pleyn.

JHESUS.
I am þe resurreccyon of lyfe, þat euyr xall reynne,
And whoso belevyt verely in me
Xall have lyfe euyrlastyng, þe soth to seyn.
Martha, belevyst thow þis?

MARTHA.
Ȝe, forsoth, þe Prynsse of blysch!
I beleve in Cryst þe Son of Sapyens,
Whyche wythowt eynd ryngne xall he,
To redemyn vs freell from ower iniquite!

Here Mary xall falle to Jhesus, þus seyyng Mary:
MARY MAGDALEN.
O, þou rythewys regent, reynyng in equite,
Þou gracyows Lord, þou swete Jhesus!
And þou haddyst byn here, my brothyr alyfe had be!
Good Lord, myn hertt doth þis dyscus!

JHESUS.
Wher have ȝe put hym? Sey me thys.

MARY MAGDALEN.
In hys mo[nv]ment, Lord, is he.

JHESUS.

To that place ȝe me wys.
Thatt grave I desyre to se.

Take of þe ston of þis monvment!

The agrement of grace here shewyn I wyll.

MARTHA.
A, Lord, yower preseptt fulfyllyd xall be.
Thys ston I remeve wyth glad chyr.
Gracyows Lord, I aske þe mercy!
Thy wyll mott be fullfyllyd here!

Here xall Martha put of þe grave ston.
JHESUS.

Now, Father, I beseche thyn hey paternyte,
That my prayour be resowndable to þi Fathyrod in glory,
To opyn þeyn erys to þi Son in humanyte.
Nat only for me, but for þi pepyll, verely,
That þey may beleue, and betake to þi mercy.
Fathyr, fore þem I make supplycacyon!
Gracyows Father, gravnt me my bone!

Lazer, Lazer! Com hethyr to me!

Here xall Lazar aryse, trossyd wyth towellys, in a shete.
LAZAR.

A, my Makar, my Savyowr! Blyssyd mott þou be!
Here men may know þi werkys of wondyre!
Lord, nothy[n]g ys onpossybyll to the,
For my body and my sowle was departyd asondyr!
I xuld a rottytt, as doth þe tondyre,

Fleysch from þe bonys a-consumyd away!
Now is aloft þat late was ondyr!

The goodnesse of God hath don for me here,
For he is bote of all balys to onbynd,
That blyssyd Lord þat here ded apere!

Here all þe pepull and þe Jewys, Mari and Martha, wyth on woys sey þes wordys: ‘We beleve in yow, Savyowr, Jhesus, Jhesus, Jhesus!’
[JHESUS].
Of yower good hertys I have advertacyounys,
Wherethorow in sowle, holl made ȝe be.
Betwyx yow and me be nevyr varyacyounys,
Wherfor I sey, ‘Vade in pace‘.

Here devoydyt Jhesus wyth hys desypyllys; Mary and Martha and Lazare gon hom to þe castell, and here begynnyt [þe Kyng of Marcylle] hys bost:
[Marcylle]
[KYNG OF MARCYLLE].

Awantt! Awant þe, onworthy wrecchesse!
Why lowtt ȝe nat low to my lawdabyll presens,
Ye brawlyng breellys and blabyr-lyppyd bycchys,
Obedyenly to obbey me wythowt offense?

I am a sofereyn semely þat ye se butt seyld!
Non swyche ondyr sonne, þe sothe for to say!
Whanne I fare fresly and fers to þe feld,
My fomen fle for fer of my fray!
Ewen as an enperower I am onored ay,

Wanne baner gyn to blasse and bemmys gyn to blow!
Hed am I heyest of all hethennesse holld!
Both kynggys and cayserys I woll þey xall me know,
Or ellys þey bey the bargayn, þat ewyr þey were so bold!
I am Kyng of Marcylle, talys to be told—
Thus I wold it were knowyn ferre and nere!
Ho sey contraly, I cast heym in carys cold,
And he xall bey the bargayn wondyr dere!

I have a favorows fode and fresse as the fakown,
She is full fayur in hyr femynyte;
Whan I loke on þis lady, I am losty as the lyon
In my syth;
Of delycyte most delycyows,
Of felachyp most felecyows,
Of alle fodys most favarows—
O, my blysse in bevteus brygth!

REGINA.
O of condycyons, and most onorabyll!
Lowly I thank yow for þis recummendacyon—
The bovnteest and the boldest ondyr baner bryth,
No creatur so coroscant to my consolacyon!
Whan the regent be resydent, itt is my refeccyon.
Yower dilectabyll dedys devydytt me from dyversyte.
In my person I privyde to put me from polucyon—
To be plesant to yower person, itt is my prosperyte!

REX.
Now, Godamercy, berel brytest of bewte!
Godamercy, ruby rody as þe rose!
Ye be so ple[s]avnt to my pay, ȝe put me from peyn.
Now, comly knygthys, loke þat ȝe forth dresse
Both spycys and wyn here in hast!

Here xall þe knygtys gete spycys and wynne, and here xall entyr a dylle in orebyll aray, þus seyyng:
[Hell Stage]
[DYLLE].

Owt, owt, harrow! I may crye and yelle,
For lost is all ower labor, wherfor I sey alas!
For of all holddys þat evyr hort, non so as hell!
Owur barrys of iron ar all to-brost, stronge gatys of brasse!
The Kyng of Joy entyryd in þerat, as bryth as fyrys blase!
For fray of hys ferfull banere, ower felashep fled asondyr!
Whan he towcheyd it wyth hys toukkyng, þey brast as ony glase,
And rofe asondyr, as it byn wyth thondore!

Now ar we thrall þat frest wher fre,
Be þe passyon of hys manhede.
O[n] a crosce on hye hangyd was he,
Whych hath dystroyd ower labor and alle ower dede!
He hath lytynnyd lymbo, and to paradyse ȝede!
Þat wondyrfull worke werkytt vs wrake!
Adam and Abram and alle hyre kynred,
Owt of ower preson to joy were þey take!

All þis hath byn wrowth syn Freyday at none!
Brostyn don ower gatys þat hangyd were full hye!
Now is he resyn, hys resurreccyon is don,
And is procedyd into Galelye!
Wyth many a temtacyon we tochyd hym to atrey,
To know whether he was God ore non.
Ȝe[t] for all ower besynes, bleryd is ower eye,
For wyth hys wyld werke he hath wonne hem everychon!
Now for þe tyme to come,
Þer xall non falle to ower chanse,
But at hys deleverans,
And weyyd be rythfull balans,
And ȝowyn be rythfull domme.
I telle yow alle in sum, to helle wyll I gonne!

Here xall entyr þe thre Mariis arayyd as chast women, wyth sygnis of þe passyon pryntyd ypon þer brest, þus seyyng Mawdleyn:
[Place of Cruxifixion, and the Sepulchre.]
[MAWDLEYN].
Alas, alas, for þat ryall bem!
A, þis percytt my hartt worst of all!
For here he turnyd aȝen to þe woman of Jerusalem,
And for wherynesse lett þe crosse falle!

MARY JACOBE.
Thys sorow is beytterare þan ony galle,
For here þe Jevys spornyd hym to make hym goo,
And þey dysspyttyd þer Kyng ryall.
That clyvytt myn hart, and makett me woo.

MARY SALOME.
Yt ys intollerabyll to se or to tell,
For ony creature, þat stronkg tormentry!
O Lord, þou haddyst a mervelows mell!
Yt is to hedyows to dyscry!

Al þe Maryys wyth on woyce sey þis folowyng:
[THE THRE MARYYS].
Heylle, gloryows crosse! Þou baryst þat Lord on hye,
Whych be þi mygth deddyst lowly bowe doun,
Mannys sowle from all thraldam to bye,
That euyrmore in peyne shold a be [boun],
Be record of Davyt, wyth myld stevyn:

‘Domine inclina celos tuos, et dessende!’
MARY MAGDLEYN.
Now to þe monument lett vs gon,
Wheras ower Lord and Savyower layd was,
To anoynt hym, body and bone,
To make amendys for ower trespas.

[MARY JACOBE].
Ho xall putt doun þe led of þe monvment,
Thatt we may anoytt hys gracyus wovndys,
Wyth hart and my[n]d to do ower intentt,
Wyth precyus bamys, þis same stovnddys?

MARY SALOME.
Thatt blyssyd body wythin þis bovndys.
Here was layd wyth rvfull monys.
Nevyr creature was borne vpon gronddys
Þat mygth sofere so hediows a peyne at onys!

Here xall apere to angelys in whyte at þe grave.
[PRIMUS] ANGELUS.
Ȝe women presentt, dredytt yow ryth nowth!
Jhesus is resun, and is natt here!
Loo, here is þe place þat he was in browth!
Go, sey to hys dysypyllys and to Petur he xall apere.

SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
In Galelye, wythowtyn ony wyre,
Þer xall ye se hym, lyke as he sayd.
Goo yower way, and take comfortt and chyr,
For þat he sayd xall natt be delayyd.

Here xall þe Maryys mete wyth Petyr and Jhon.
MARY MAVDLEYN.
O, Petyr and Jhon! We be begylyd!
Ower Lordys body is borne away!
I am aferd itt is dyffylyd!
I am so carefull, I wott natt whatt to saye.

PETYR.
Of þes tydynggys gretly I dysmay!
I woll me thethere hye wyth all my myth!
Now, Lord defend vs as he best may!
Of þe sepulture we woll have a syth.

JHON.
A, myn invard sowle stondyng in dystresse—
Þe weche of my body xuld have a gyde—
For my Lord stondyng in hevynesse,
Whan I remembyr hys wovndys wyde!

PETYR.
The sorow and peyne þat he ded drye
For ower offens and abomynacyon!
And also I forsoke hym in hys turmentry—
I toke no hede to hys techeyng and exortacyon!

Here Petyr and Jhon go to þe sepulcur and þe Maryys folowyng.
[PETYR].
A, now I se and know þe sothe!
But, gracyus Lord, be ower protexcyon!—
Here is nothyng left butt a sudare cloth,
Þat of þi beryyng xuld make mencyon!

JHON.
I am aferd of wykkytt opressyon!
Where he is becum, it can natt be devysyd,
But he seyd aftyr þe thrid day he xuld have resurrexyon.
Long beforn, thys was promysyd.

MARY MAGDLEYN.
Alas, I may no lengar abyde,
For dolour and dyssese þat in my hartt doth dwell.

[Mary goes aside.]
PRIMUS ANGELUS.
Woman, woman, wy wepest þou?
Wom sekest þou wyth dolare thus?

MARY MAGDLEYN.
A, Fayn wold I wete, and I wyst how,
Wo hath born away my Lord Jhesus!

Hic aparuit Jhesus.
[JHESUS].
Woman, woman, wy syest thow?
Wom sekest þou? Tell me þis.

MARY MAGDLEYN.

A, good syr, tell me now
Yf þou have born awey my Lord Jhesus,

For I have porposyd in eche degre
To have hym wyth me, werely,
The wyche my specyall Lord hath be,
And I hys lovyr and cavse wyll phy.

JHESUS.
O, O, Mari!

MARY MAGDLEYN.
A! Gracyus Mastyr and Lord, yow it is þat I seke!
Lett me anoynt yow wyth þis bamys sote!
Lord, long hast þou hyd þe from my spece,
Butt now wyll I kesse þou for my hartys bote!

JHESUS.
Towche me natt, Mary! I ded natt asend
To my Father in Deyyte, and onto yowers!
Butt go sey to my brotheryn I wyll pretende
To stey to my Father in heu[n]ly towyrs.

MARY MAGDLEYN.
Whan I sye yow fyrst, Lord, verely
I wentt ye had byn Symov[n]d þe gardener.

JHESUS.
So I am, forsothe, Mary!
Mannys hartt is my gardyn here.
Þerin I sow sedys of vertu all þe ȝere.
Þe fowle wedys and wycys I reynd vp be þe rote!
Whan þat gardyn is watteryd wyth terys clere,
Than spryng vertuus, and smelle full sote.

MARY MAGDLEYN.
O, þou dereworthy Emperowere, þou hye devyne!
To me þis is a joyfull tydyng,
And onto all pepull þat aftyr vs xall reyngne,
Thys knowlege of þi deyyte,
To all pepull þat xall obteyne,
And know þis be posybyl[yt]e.

JHESUS.
I woll shew to synnars as I do to þe,
Yf þey woll wyth veruens of love me seke.
Be stedfast, and I xall evyr wyth þe be,
And wyth all tho þat to me byn meke!

Here avoydyt Jhesus sodenly, þus seyyng Mary Magdleyn:
[MARY MAGDLEYN].
O, systyrs, þus þe hey and nobyll inflventt grace
Of my most blessyd Lord Jhesus, Jhesus, Jhesus!
He aperyd onto me at þe sepulcur þer I was!
Þat hath relevyed my woo, and moryd my blysche!
Itt is innvmerabyll to expresse,
Or for ony tong for to tell,
Of my joye how myche itt is,
So myche my peynnys itt doth excelle!

MARY SALOME.
Now lett vs go to þe sette, to ower Lady dere,
Hyr to shew of hys wellfare,
And also to dyssypyllys, þat we have syn here—
Þe more yt xall rejoyse þem from care!

MARY JACOB.
Now, systyr Magdleyn, wyth glad chyr!
So wold þat good Lord we myth wyth hym mete!

[Jhesus appears again.]
JHESUS.
To shew desyrows hartys I am full nere,
Women, I apere to yow and sey, ‘Awete!’

SALOME.
Now, gracyus Lord, of yowur nymyos charyte—
Wyth hombyll hartys to þi presens complayne—
Gravntt vs þi blyssyng of þi hye deyte,
Gostly ower sowlys for to sosteynne.

JHESUS.

Alle tho byn blyssyd þat sore refreynne.
We blysch yow—Father, and Son, and Holy Gost—
All sorow and care to constryne,
Be ower powyr of mytys most,

In nomine Patrys ett Felii et Spiritus Sancti, amen!

Goo ye to my brethryn, and sey to hem þer,
Þat þey procede and go into Gallelye,
And þer xall þey se me, as I seyd before,
Bodyly, wyth here carnall yye.

Here Jhesus devoydytt aȝen.
MAGDLEYN.
O þou gloryus Lord of heuen regyon,
Now blyssyd be þi hye devynyte,
Thatt evyr thow tokest incarnacyon,
Thus for to vesyte þi pore servantys thre.
Þi wyll, gracyows Lord, fulfyllyd xall be
As þou commavndyst vs in all thyng.
Ower gracyows brethryn we woll go se,
Wyth hem to seyn all ower lekeyng.

Here devoyd all þe thre Maryys, and þe Kyng of Marcyll xall begynne a sacryfyce.
REX MARCYLL.
Now, lorddys and ladyys of grett aprise,
A mater to meve yow is in my memoryall,
Þis day to do a sacryfyce
Wyth multetude of myrth before ower goddys all,
Wyth preors in aspecyall before hys presens,
Eche creature wyth hartt demvre.

REGINA.
To þat lord curteys and keynd,
Mahond, þat is so mykyll of myth,
Wyth mynstrelly and myrth in mynd,
Lett vs gon ofer in þat hye kyngis syth.

Here xall entyr an hethen prest and hys boye.

PRYSBY[TYR].
Now, my clerke Hawkyn, for loue of me,
Loke fast myn awter were arayd!
Goo ryng a bell, to or thre!
Lythly, chyld, it be natt delayd,
For here xall be a grett solemnyte.
Loke, boy, þou do it wyth a brayd!

CLERICUS.
Whatt, mastyr! Woldyst þou have þi lemman to þi beddys syde?
Thow xall abyde tyll my servyse is sayd!

PRYSBY[TYR].
Boy! I sey, be Sentt Coppyn,
No swyche wordys to þe I spake!

BOY.

Wether þou ded or natt, þe fryst jorny xall be myn,
For, be my feyth, þou beryst Wattys pakke!

But syr, my mastyr, grett Morell,
Ye have so fellyd yower bylly wyth growell,
Þat it growit grett as þe dywll of hell!
Onshaply þou art to see!
Whan woman comme to here þi sermon,
Pratyly wyth hem I can houkkyn,
Wyth Kyrchon and fayer Maryon—
Þey love me bettyr þan þe!

I dare sey, and þou xulddys ryde,
Þi body is so grett and wyde,
Þat nevyr horse may þe abyde,
Exseptt þou breke hys bakk asovndyre!

PRYSBY[TYR].
A, þou lyyst, boy, be þe dyvll of hell!
I pray God, Mahond mott þe quell!
I xall whyp þe tyll þi ars xall belle!
On þi ars com mych wondyre!

BOY.
A fartt, mastyr, and kysse my grenne!
Þe dyvll of hell was þi emme!
Loo, mastyrs, of swyche a stokke he cam!
Þis kenred is asprongyn late!

PRYSBY[TYR].
Mahovndys blod, precyows knave!
Stryppys on þi ars þou xall have,
And rappys on þi pate!

Bete hym.

REX
dicitt.
Now, prystys and clerkys, of þis tempyll cler,
Yower servyse to sey, lett me se.

PRYSBY[TYR].

A, soveryn lord, we shall don ower devyr.
Boy, a boke anon þou bryng me!

Now, boy, to my awter I wyll me dresse—
On xall my westment and myn aray.

BOY.

Now þan, þe lesson I woll expresse,
Lyke as longytt for þe servyse of þis day:

Leccyo mahowndys, viri fortissimi sarasenorum:
Glabriosum ad glvmandum glvmardinorum,
Gormondorum alocorum, stampatinantum cursorum,
Cownthtys fulcatum, congrvryandum tersorum,
Mursum malgorum, mararaȝorum,
Skartum sialporum, fartum cardiculorum,
Slavndri strovmppum, corbolcorum,
Snyguer snagoer werwolfforum
Standgardum lamba beffettorum,
Strowtum stardy strangolcorum,
Rygour dagour flapporum,
Castratum raty rybaldorum,
Howndys and hoggys, in heggys and hellys,
Snakys and toddys mott be yower bellys!
Ragnell and Roffyn, and other in þe wavys,
Gravntt yow grace to dye on þe galows!

PRYSBY[TYR].
Now, lordys and ladyys, lesse and more,
Knele all don wyth good devocyon.
Yonge and old, rych and pore,
Do yower oferyng to Sentt Mahownde,
And ye xall have grett pardon,
Þat longytt to þis holy place,
And receyve ȝe xall my benesown,
And stond in Mahowndys grace.

REX
dicitt.

Mahownd, þou art of mytys most,
In my syth a gloryus gost—
Þou comfortyst me both in contre and cost,
Wyth þi wesdom and þi wytt,

For truly, lord, in þe is my trost.
Good lord, lett natt my sowle be lost!
All my cownsell well þou wotst,
Here in þi presens as I sett.

Thys besawnt of gold, rych and rownd,
I ofer ytt for my lady and me,
Þat þou mayst be ower covnfortys in þis stownd.
Sweth Mahovnd, remembyr me!

PRYSBY[TYR].
Now, boy, I pray þe, lett vs have a song!
Ower servyse be note, lett vs syng, I say!
Cowff vp þi brest, stond natt to long,
Begynne þe offyse of þis day.

BOY.
I home and I hast, I do þat I may,
Wyth mery tvne þe trebyll to syng.

Syng both.
PRYSBY[TYR].

Hold vp! Þe dyvll mote þe afray,
For all owt of rule þou dost me bryng!

Butt now, syr kyng, quene, and knyth,
Be mery in hartt everychon!
For here may ye se relykys brygth—
Mahowndys own nekke bon!
And ȝe xall se or ewer ye gon,
Whattsomewer yow betyde,
And ye xall kesse all þis holy bon,
Mahowndys own yeelyd!
Ȝe may have of þis grett store;
And ye knew þe cavse wherfor,
Ytt woll make yow blynd for ewyrmore,
Þis same holy bede!

Lorddys and ladyys, old and ynge,
Golyas so good, to blysse may yow bryng,
Mahownd þe [holy] and Dragon þe dere,

Wyth Belyall in blysse ewyrlastyng,
Þat ye may þer in joy syng
Before þat comly kyng
Þat is ower god in fere.

[Jerusalem—Pilate's Stage]
PYLATT.

Now, ȝe serjauntys semly, qwat sey ȝe?
Ȝe be full wetty men in þe law.
Of þe dethe of Jhesu I woll awysyd be—
Ower soferyn Sesar þe soth mvst nedys know.

Thys Jhesu was a man of grett vertu,
And many wondyrs in hys tyme he wrowth;
He was put to dethe be cawsys ontru,
Wheche matyr stekytt in my thowth;
And ȝe know well how he was to þe erth browth,
Wacchyd wyth knygths of grett aray.
He is resyn agayn, as before he tawth,
And Joseph of Baramathye he hath takyn awey.

[PRIMUS] SERJANTT.
Soferyn juge, all þis is soth þat ȝe sey,
But all þis mvst be curyd be sotylte,
And sey how hys dysypyllys stollyn hym away—
And þis xall be þe answer, be þe asentt of me!

SECUNDUS SERJANTT.
So it is most lylly for to be!
Yower covncell is good and commendabyll;
So wryte hym a pystyll of specyallte,
And þat for vs xall be most prophytabyll.

PYLATT.
Now, masengyr, in hast hether þou com!
On masage þou mvst, wyth ower wrytyng,
To þe soferyn emperower of Rome.
But fryst þou xall go to Herodes þe kyng,
And sey how þat I send hym knowyng
Of Crystys deth, how it hath byn wrowth.
I charge þe make no lettyng,
Tyll þis lettyr to þe emperower be browth!

NVNCYUS PYLATUS.
My lord, in hast yower masage to spede
Onto þo lordys of ryall renown,
Dowth ȝe nat, my lord, it xall be don indede!
Now hens woll I fast owt of þis town!

Her goth þe masengyr to Herodes.
Jerusalem—Herod's Palace]
NVNCYUS.
Heyll, soferyn kyng ondyr crown!
Þe prynsys of þe law recummende to yower heynesse,
And sendytt yow tydyngys of Crystys passyon,
As in þis wrytyng doth expresse.

HERODES.
A, be my trowth, now am I full of blys!
Þes be mery tydvngys þat þey have þus don!
Now certys I am glad of þis,
For now ar we frendys þat afore wher fon.
Hold a reward, masengyr, þat thow were gon,
And recummend me to my soferens grace.
Shew hym I woll be as stedfast as ston,
Ferr and nere, and in every place!

Here goth þe masengyr to þe emperower.
[Rome]
NVNCYUS.

Heyll be yow, sofereyn, settyng in solas!
Heyll, worthy wythowtyn pere!
Heyll, goodly to gravntt all grace!
Heyll, emperower of þe word, ferr and nere!

Soferyn, and it plese yower hye empyre,
I have browth yow wrytyng of grett aprise,
Wyche xall be pleseyng to yower desyre,
From Pylatt, yower hye justyce.
He sentt yow word wyth lowly intentt;
In ewery place he kepytt yower cummavndement,
As he is bovnd be hys ofyce.

EMPEROWER.
A, welcum, masengyr of grett pleseavns!
Þi wrytyng anon lett me se!
My juggys, anon gyffe atendans,
To ondyrstond whatt þis wrytyng may be,
Wethyr it be good, are ony deversyte,
Or ellys natt for myn awayll—
Declare me þis in all þe hast!

PROVOST.

Syr, þe sentens we woll dyscus,
And it plese yower hye exseleyns;
The intentt of þis pystull is þus:
Pylatt recummendytt to yower presens,
And of a prophett is þe sentens,
Whos name was callyd Jhesus.
He is putt to dethe wyth vyolens,
For he chalyngyd to be kyng of Jewys.

Þerfor he was crucyfyed to ded,
And syn was beryyd, as þey thowth reson.
Also, he cleymyd hymsylf Son of þe Godhed!
Þe therd nygth he was stollyn away wyth treson,
Wyth hys desypyllys þat to hym had dyleccyon,
So wyth hym away þey ȝode.
I merveyll how þey ded wyth þe bodyys corupcyon—
I trow þey wer fed wyth a froward fode!

IMPERATOR.

Crafty was þer connyng, þe soth for to seyn!
Thys pystyll I wyll kepe wyth me yff I can,
Also I wyll have cronekyllyd þe ȝere and þe reynne,
Þat nevyr xall be forgott, whoso loke þeron.

Masengyre, owt of þis town wyth a rage!
Hold þis gold to þi wage,
Mery for to make!

NVNCYUS.
Farewell, my lord of grett renown,
Fow owt of town my way I take.

Her entyr Mawdleyn wyth hyr dysypyll, þus seyyng:
[Jerusalem]
MAVDLYN.

A, now I remembyr my Lord þat put was to ded
Wyth þe Jewys, wythowttyn gyltt or treson!
Þe therd nygth he ros be þe myth of hys Godhed;
Vpon þe Sonday had hys gloryus resurrexcyon,
And now is þe tyme past of hys gloryus asencyon;
He steyyd to hevyn, and þer he is kyng.
A! Hys grett kendnesse may natt fro my mencyon!
Of alle maner tonggys he ȝaf vs knowyng,

For to vndyrstond every langwage.
Now have þe dysypyllys take þer passage
To dyvers contreys her and ȝondyr,
To prech and teche of hys hye damage—
Full ferr ar my brothyrn departyd asondyr.

Her xall hevyn opyn, and Jhesus xall shew [hymself].
[Heaven Stage]
JHESUS.

O, þe onclypsyd sonne, tempyll of Salamon!
In þe mone I restyd, þat nevyr chonggyd goodnesse!
In þe shep of Noee, fles of Judeon,
She was my tapyrnakyll of grett nobyllnesse,
She was þe paleys of Phebus brygthnesse,
She was þe wessell of puere clennesse,
Wher my Godhed ȝaff my manhod myth;

My blyssyd mother, of demvre femynyte,
For mankynd, þe feynddys defens,
Quewne of Jherusalem, þat heuenly cete,
Empresse of hell, to make resystens.
She is þe precyus pyn, full of ensens,
The precyus synamvyr, þe body thorow to seche.
She is þe mvske aȝens þe hertys of vyolens,
Þe jentyll jelopher aȝens þe cardyakyllys wrech.

The goodnesse of my mothere no tong can expresse,
Nere no clerke of hyre, hyre joyys can wryth.
Butt now of my servantt I remembyr þe kendnesse;
Wyth heuenly masage I cast me to vesyte;
Raphaell, myn angell in my syte,
To Mary Mavdleyn decende in a whyle,
Byd here passe þe se be my myth,
And sey she xall converte þe land of Marcyll.

ANGELUS.
O gloryus Lord, I woll resortt
To shew your servant of yower grace.
She xall labor for þat londys comfortt,
From heuynesse þem to porchasse.

Tunc decendet angelus.
[ANGELUS].

Abasse þe novtt, Mary, in þis place!
Ower Lordys preceptt þou must fullfyll.
To passe þe see in shortt space,
Onto þe lond of Marcyll.

Kyng and quene converte xall ȝe
And byn amyttyd as an holy apostylesse.
Alle þe lond xall be techyd alonly be the,
Goddys lawys onto hem ȝe xall expresse.
Þerfore hast yow forth wyth gladnesse,
Goddys commav[n]ddement for to fullfylle.

MARI MAWDLEYN.

He þat from my person seuen dewllys mad to fle,
Be vertu of hym alle thyng was wrowth;
To seke thoys pepyll I woll rydy be.
As þou hast commavnddytt, in vertv þey xall be browth.

Wyth þi grace, good Lord in Deite,
Now to þe see I wyll me hy,
Sum sheppyng to asspy.
Now spede me, Lord in eternall glory!
Now be my spede, allmyty Trenite!

Here xall entyre a shyp wyth a mery song.
[The Place—near the ‘Coast’]
SHEPMAN.

Stryke! Stryke! Lett fall an ankyr to grownd!
Her is a fayer haven to se!
Connyngly in, loke þat ye sownd!
I hope good harbarow have xal wee!

Loke þat we have drynke, boy þou!

BOY.

I may natt, for slep, I make God a wow!

Þou xall abyde ytte, and þou were my syere!

SHEPMAN.
Why, boy, we are rydy to go to dynere!
Xall we no mete have?

BOY.
Natt for me, be of good chyr,
Thowe ye be forhongord tyll ȝe rave,
I tell yow plenly beforn!
For swyche a cramp on me sett is,
I am a poynt to fare þe worse.
I ly and wryng tyll I pysse,
And am a poyntt to be forlorn!

ÞE MASTYR.
Now, boy, whatt woll þe þis seyll?

BOY.
Nothyng butt a fayer damsell!
She shold help me, I know it well,
Ar ellys I may rue þe tyme þat I was born!

ÞE MASTYR.
Be my trowth, syr boye, ȝe xal be sped!
I wyll hyr bryng onto yower bed!
Now xall þou lern a damsell to wed—
She wyll nat kysse þe on skorn!

Bete hym.
ÞE BOY.
A skorn! No, no, I fynd it hernest!
The dewlle of hell motte þe brest,
For all my corage is now cast!
Alasse! I am forlorn!

MAV[D]LEYN.
Mastyr of þe shepe, a word wyth the!

MASTYR.
All redy, fayer woman! Whatt wol ȝe?

MARY.
Of whense is thys shep? Tell ȝe me,
And yf ȝe seyle wythin a whyle.

MASTYR.
We woll seyle þis same day,
Yf þe wynd be to ower pay.
Þis shep þat I of sey,
Is of þe lond of Marcyll.

MARY.
Syr, may I natt wyth yow sayle?
And ȝe xall have for yower awayle.

MASTYR.

Of sheppyng ye xall natt faylle,
For vs þe wynd is good and saffe.

[Ship sails.]

Yond þer is þe lond of Tork[y]e
I wher full loth for to lye!
Yendyr is þe lond of Satyllye—
Of þis cors we thar nat abaffe.

Now xall þe shepmen syng.
SHEPMEN.
Stryk! Beware of sond!
Cast a led and in vs gyde!
Of Marcyll þis is þe kynggys lond.
Go a lond, þow fayer woman, þis tyde,
To þe kynggys place. Yondyr may ȝe se.

[Mary goes ashore.]
ÞE BOY.
Sett of! Sett of from lond!
All redy, mastyr, at thyn hand!

Her goth þe shep owt of þe place.

MARY.
O Jhesu, þi mellyfluos name
Mott be worcheppyd wyth reverens!
Lord, gravnt me vyctore aȝens þe fyndys flame,
And yn þi lawys gyf þis pepyll credens!
I wyll resortt be grett convenyens;
On hys presens I wyll draw nere,
Of my Lordys lawys to she[w] þe sentens,
Bothe of hys Godhed and of hys powere.

Here xall Mary entyr before þe kyng.
[MARY].
Now, þe hye Kyng Crist, mannys redempcyon,
Mote save yow, syr kyng, regnyng in equite,
And mote gydde yow þe [way] toward sauasyon.
Jhesu, þe Son of þe mythty Trenite,
That was, and is, and evyr xall be,
For mannys sowle þe reformacyon,
In hys name, lord, I beseche þe,
Wythin þi lond to have my mancyon.

REX.
Jhesu? Jhesu? Qwat deylle is hym þat?
I defye þe and þyn apenyon!
Thow false lordeyn, I xal fell þe flatt!
Who made the so hardy to make swych rebon?

MARY.
Syr, I com natt to þe for no decepcyon,
But þat good Lord Crist hether me compassyd.
To receyve hys name, itt is yower refeccyon,
And þi forme of mysbele[f] be hym may be losyd!

REX.
And whatt is þat lord þat thow speke of her?

MARY.

Id est Salvator, yf thow wyll lere,
Þe Secunde Person, þat hell ded conquare,

And þe Son of þe Father in Trenyte!

REX.
And of whatt powyr is þat God þat ȝe reherse to me?

MARY.
He mad hevyn and erth, lond and see,
And all þis he mad of nowthe!

REX.
Woman, I pray þe, answer me!
Whatt mad God at þe fyrst begynnyng?
Thys processe ondyrstond wol we,
That wold I lerne; itt is my plesyng!

MARY.

Syr, I wyll declare al and sum,
What from God fryst ded procede.
He seyd, ‘In principio erat verbum’,
And wyth þat he provyd hys grett Godhed!
He mad heuen for ower spede,
Wheras he sytth in tronys hyee;
Hys mynystyrs next, as he save nede,
Hys angelus and archangyllys all the compeny.

Vpon þe fryst day God mad all þis,
As it was plesyng to hys intent.
On þe Munday, he wold natt mys
To make sonne, mone, and sterrys, and þe fyrmament,
The sonne to begynne hys cors in þe oryent,
And evyr labor wythowtyn werynesse,
And kepytt hys covrs into þe occedentt.

The Twysday, as I ondyrstond þis,
Grett grace for vs he gan to incresse.
Þat day he satt vpon watyris,
As was lykyng to hys goodnesse,
As holy wrytt berytt wettnesse.
Þat tyme he made both see and lond,
All þat werke of grett nobyllnesse,
As it was plesyng to hys gracyus sond.

On þe Weddysday, ower Lord of mythe
Made more at hys plesyng:
Fysche in flod, and fowle in flyth—
And all þis was for ower hellpyng.
On the Thorsday, þat nobyll Kyng
Mad dyverse bestys, grett and smale.
He yaff hem erth to ther fedyng,
And bad hem cressyn be hylle and dale.

And on þe Fryday God mad man,
As it plesett hys hynesse most,
Aftyr hys own semelytude than,
And ȝaf hem lyfe of þe Holy Gost.

O[n] þe Satyrday, as I tell can,
All hys werkys he gan to blysse.
He bad them multyply and incresse than,
As it was plesyng to hys worthynesse.

And on þe Sonday, he gan rest take,
As skryptur declarytt pleyn,
Þat al shold reverens make
To hyr Makar þat hem doth susteyn
Vpon þe Sonday to leuen in hys servyse,
And hym alonly to serve, I tell yow pleyn.

REX.
Herke, woman, thow hast many resonnys grett!
I thyngk, onto my goddys aperteynyng þey beth!
But þou make me answer son, I xall þe frett,
And cut þe tong owt of þi hed!

MARY.
Syr, yf I seyd amys, I woll retur[n] agayn.
Leve yower encomberowns of perturbacyon,
And lett me know what yower goddys byn,
And how þey may save vs from trevbelacyon.

REX.
Hens to þe tempyll þat we ware,
And þer xall thow se a solom syth.
Com on all, both lesse and more,
Thys day to se my goddys myth!

Here goth þe kyng wyth all hys atendavnt to þe tempyll.
[REX].
Loke now, qwatt seyyst thow be þis syth?
How pleseavnttly þey stond, se thow how?
Lord, I besech þi grett myth,
Speke to þis Chrisetyn þat here sestt þou!
Speke, god lord, speke! Se how I do bow!
Herke, þou pryst! Qwat menytt all this?
What? Speke, good lord, speke! What eylytt þe now?
Speke, as thow artt bote of all blysse!

PRYSBITYR.
Lord, he woll natt speke whyle Chriseten here is!

MARY.
Syr kyng, and it plese yower gentyllnesse,
Gyff me lycens my prayors to make
Onto my God in heven blysch,
Sum merakyll to shewyn for yower sake!

REX.
Pray þi fylle tyll þen knees ake!

MARY.
Dominus, illuminacio mea, quem timebo?
Dominus, protecctor vite mee, a quo trepedabo?

Here xal þe mament tremyll and quake.
[MARY].
Now, Lord of lordys, to þi blyssyd name sanctificatt,
Most mekely my feyth I recummend.
Pott don þe pryd of mamentys violatt!
Lord, to þi lovyr þi goodnesse descend!
Lett natt þer pryd to þi poste pretend,
Wheras is rehersyd þi hye name Jhesus!
Good Lord, my preor I feythfully send!
Lord, þi rythwysnesse here dyscus!

Here xall comme a clowd from heven, and sett þe tempyl on afyer, and þe pryst and þe cler[k] xall synke, and þe kyng gothe hom, þus seyyng:
[REX].
A! Owt! For angur I am þus deludyd!
I wyll bewreke my cruell tene!
Alas, wythin mysylfe I am concludytt!
Þou woman, comme hether and wete whatt I mene!
My wyff and I together many ȝerys have byn,
And nevyr myth be conceyvyd wyth chyld;
Yf þou for þis canst fynd a mene,
I wyll abey þi God, and to hym be meke and myld.

MARY.
Now, syr, syn þou seyst so,
To my Lord I prye wyth reythfull bone.
Beleve in hym, and in no mo,
And I hope she xall be conceyvyd sone.

REX.
Awoyd, awoyd! I wax all seke!
I wyll to bed þis same tyde!
I am so wexyd wyth ȝen sueke,
Þat heth nere to deth me dyth!

Here þe kyng goth to bed in hast, and Mary goth into an old logge wythowt þe gate, þus seyyng:
MARY.
Now, Cryst, my creatur, me conserve and kepe,
Þat I be natt confunddyd wyth þis reddure!
For hungore and thurst, to þe I wepe!
Lord, demene me wyth mesuer!
As þou savydyst Daniell from þe lyounys rigur,
Be Abacuk þi masengyre, relevyd wyth sustynovns,
Good Lord, so hellpe me and sokore,
Lord, as itt is þi hye pleseawns!

[Heaven Stage]
JHESUS.
My grace xall grow, and don decend
To Mary my lovyr, þat to me doth call,
Hyr ass[t]att for to amend.
She xall be relevyd wyth sustinons corporall.
Now, awngelys, dyssend to hyr in especyall,
And lede hyr to þe prynssys chambyr ryth.
Bed hyre axke of hys good be weyys pacyfycal.
And goo yow before hyr wyth reverent lyth!

PRIMUS ANGELUS.
Blyssyd Lord, in þi syth
We dyssend onto Mary.

SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
We dyssend from yower blysse bryth—
Onto yower cummavndement we aplye.

Tunc dissenditt angelus. Primus dyxit.
[PRIMUS ANGELUS].
Mary, ower Lord wyll comfortt yow send!
He bad, to þe kyng ye xuld take þe waye,
Hym to asay, yf he woll condesend,
As he is slepyng, hem to asaye.

SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
Byd hym releve yow, to Goddys pay,
And we xal go before yow wyth solem lyth;
In a mentyll of whyte xall be ower araye.
The dorys xall opyn aȝens vs be ryth.

MARY.
O gracyus God, now I vndyrstond!
Thys clothyng of whyte is tokenyng of mekenesse.
Now, gracyus Lord, I woll natt wond,
Yower preseptt to obbey wyth lowlynesse.

Here goth Mary, wyth þe angelys before hyre, to þe kynggys bed, wyth lythys beryng, þus seyyng Mary:
[MARY].
Thow froward kyng, trobelows and wood,
That hast at þi wyll all worddys wele,
Departe wyth me wyth sum of þi good,
That am in hongor, threst, and chelle;
God hath þe sent warnyngys felle!
I rede þe, torne, and amend þi mood!
Beware of þi lewdnesse, for þi own hele!
And thow, qwen, tvrne from þi good!

Here Mari woydyt, and þe angyll and Mary chongg hyr clotheyng, þus seyyng þe kyng:
[REX].
A, þis day is com! I am mery and glad!
The son is vp and shynyth bryth!
A mervelows shewyng in my slep I had,
That sore me trobelyd þis same nyth—
A fayer woman I saw in my syth,
All in whyte was she cladd;
Led she was wyth an angyll bryth,
To me she spake wyth wordys sad.

REGINA.
I trow from Good þat þey were sentt!
In ower hartys we may have dowte.
I wentt ower chambyr sholld a brentt,
For þe lyth þat þer was all abowth!
To vs she spake wordys of dred,
That we xuld help þem þat haue nede,
Wyth ower godys, so God ded byd,
I tell yow wythowtyn dowthe.

REX.
Now, semely wyff, ȝe sey ryth well.
A knyth, anon, wythowtyn delay!
Now, as þou hast byn trew as stylle,
Goo fett þat woman before me þis daye!

MILES.
My sovereyn lord, I take þe waye!
She xall com at [y]ower pleseawns.
Yower soveryn wyll I wyll goo saye—
Itt is almesse hyr to awawns!

Thunc transit miles ad Mariam.
[MILES].
Sped well, good woman! I am to þe sentt,
Yow for to speke wyth þe kyng.

MARIA.
Gladly, syr, at hys intentt,
I comme at hys own pleseyng!

Tunc transytt Maria ad regem.
[MARY].
The mythe and þe powyre of þe heye Trenyte,
The wysdom of þe Son, mott governe yow in ryth!
The Holy Gost mott wyth yow be!
What is yowre wyll? Sey me in sythe!

REX.
Thow fayer woman, itt is my delyth,
Þe to refresch is myn intentt,
Wyth mete and mony, and clothys for þe nyth,
And wyth swych grace as God hathe me lentt.

MARIA.
Than fullfylle ȝe Goddys cummavndement,
Pore folk in mysch[ef] þem to susteyn!

REX.
Now, blyssyd woman, reherse here presentt,
The joyys of yower Lord in heven.

MARY.

A, blyssyd þe ower, and blyssyd be þe tyme,
Þat to Goddys lawys ȝe wyll gyff credens!
To yowerselfe ȝe make a glad pryme
Aȝens þe fenddys malycyows violens!
From God above comit þe influens,
Be þe Holy Gost into þi brest sentt down,
For to restore þi offens,
Þi sowle to bryng to ewyrlastyng salvacyon.

Thy wyffe, she is grett wyth chyld!

Lyke as þou desyerst, þou hast þi bone!

REGINA.
A, ȝe! I fel ytt ster in my wombe vp and down!
I am glad I have þe in presens!
O blyssyd womman, rote of ower savacyon,
Þi God woll I worshep wyth dew reverens!

REX.
Now, fayer womman, sey me þe sentens,
I beseche þe, whatt is þi name?

MARY.
Syr, aȝens þat I make no resystens!
Mary Mavdleyn, wythowtyn blame.

REX.
O blyssyd Mary, ryth well is me,
Þat ewer I have abedyn þis daye!
Now thanke I þi God, and specyally þe,
And so xall I do whyle I leve may.

MARY.

Ȝe xall thankytt Petyr, my mastyr, wythowt delay!
He is þi frend, stedfast and cler.
To allmythy God he halp me pray,
And he xall crestyn yow from þe fynddys powyr,

In þe syth of God an hye!

REX.
Now, suerly ȝe answer me to my pay.
I am ryth glad of þis tyddyngys!
Butt, Mary, in all my goodys I sese yow þis day,
For to byn at yower gydyng,
And þem to rewlyn at yower pleseyng
Tyll þat I comme hom agayn!
I wyll axke of yow neythyr lond nore rekynyng,
But I here delevyr yow powere pleyn!

REGINA.
Now, worshepfull lord, of a bone I yow pray,
And it be pleseyng to yower hye dygnite.

REX.
Madam, yower dysyere onto me say.
What bone is þat ȝe desyere of me?

REGINA.
Now, worshepfull sovereyn, in eche degre,
Þat I may wyth yow goo,
A Crestyn womman made to be.
Gracyus lord, it may be soo.

REX.
Alas! Þe wyttys of wommen, how þey byn wylld!
And þerof fallytt many a chanse!
A! Why desyer it yow, and ar wyth chyld?

REGINA.
A, my sovereyn, I am knett in care,
But ȝe consedyr now þat I crave,
For all þe lowys þat ever ware,
Behynd yow þat ȝe me nat leve!

REX.
Wyff, syn þat ȝe woll take þis wey of pryse,
Þerto can I no more seyn.
Now Jhesu be ower gyd, þat is hye justyce,
And þis blyssyd womman, Mary Mavgleyn!

MARY.
Syth ȝe ar consentyd to þat dede,
The blyssyng of God gyff to yow wyll I.
He xall save yow from all dred,
In nomine Patrys, et Filij, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen!

Ett tunc navis venit in placeam, et navta dicit:
[The ‘Coast’]
[NAVTA].
Loke forth, Grobbe, my knave,
And tell me qwat tydyngys þou have,
And yf þou aspye ony lond.

BOY.
Into þe shrowdys I woll me hye!
Be my fythe, a castell I aspye,
And as I ondyrstond!

NAVTA.
Sett þerwyth, yf we mown,
For I wott itt is a havyn town
Þat stondyt vpon a strond.

Ett tuncc transitt rex ad navem, et dicit rex:
[REX].
How, good man, of whens is þat shep?
I pray þe, syr, tell þou me.

NAVTA.
Syr, as for þat, I take no kepe!
For qwat cavse enquire ȝe?

REX.
For cavsys of nede, seyle wold we,
Ryth fayn we wold owyr byn!

NAVTA.
Ȝee, butt me thynkytt, so mote I the,
So hastely to passe, yower spendyng is thyn!

I trow, be my lyfe,
Þou hast stollyn sum mannys wyffe!
Þou woldyst lede hyr owt of lond!
Nevereþeles, so God me save,
Lett se whatt I xall have,
Or ellys I woll nat wend!

REX.
Ten marke I wyll þe gyff,
Yf þou wylt set me vp at þe cleyff
In þe Holy Lond!

NAVTA.
Set of, boy, into þe flod!

BOY.
I xall, mastyr! Þe wynd is good—
Hens þat we were!

Lamentando regina.
[REGINA].
A, lady, hellp in þis nede,
Þat in þis flod we drench natt!
A, Mary, Mary, flowyr of wommanned!
O blyssyd lady, forȝete me nowth!

REX.
A, my dere wyffe, no dred ȝe have,
Butt trost in Mary Mavdleyn,
And she from perellys xall vs save!
To God for vs she woll prayyn.

REGINA.
A, dere hosbond, thynk on me,
And save yowersylfe as long as ȝe may,
For trewly itt wyll no otherwyse be!
Full sor my hart it makytt þis day.
A, þe chyld þat betwyx my sydys lay,
Þe wyche was conseyvyd on me be ryth—
Alas, þat wommannys help is away!
An hevy departyng is betwyx vs in syth,
Fore now departe wee!
For defawte of wommen here in my nede,
Deth my body makyth to sprede.
Now, Mary Mavdleyn, my sowle lede!
In manus tuas, Domine!

REX.
Alas, my wyff is ded!
Alas, þis is a carefull chans!
So xall my chyld, I am adred,
And for defawth of sustynons.
Good Lord, þi grace gravnte to me!
A chyld betwen vs of increse,
An it is motherles!
Help me, my sorow for to relesse,
Yf þi wyl it be!

NAVTA.
Benedicite, benedicite!
Qwat wethyr may þis be?
Ower mast woll all asondyr!

BOY.
Mastyr, I þerto ley myn ere,
It is for þis ded body þat we bere!
Cast hyr owt, or ellys we synke ond«yr»!

Make redy for to cast hyr owt.
REX.
Nay, for Goddys sake, do natt so!
And ȝe wyll hyr into þe se cast,
Gyntyll serys, for my love, do—
Ȝendyr is a roch in the west—
As ley hyr þeron all above,
And my chyld hyr by.

NAVTA.
As þerto I asent well.
And she were owt of þe wessell,
All we xuld stond þe more in hele,
I sey yow, werely!

Tunc remiga[n]t ad montem et dicit rex:
REX.
Ly here, wyff, and chyld þe by.
Blyssyd Mavdleyn be hyr rede!
Wyth terys wepyng, and grett cavse why,
I kysse yow both in þis sted.
Now woll I pray to Mary myld
To be þer gyde here.

Tunc remiga[n]t a monte, et navta dicit:
[NAVTA].
Pay now, syr, and goo to lond,
For here is þe portt Ȝaf, I ondyrstond;
Ley down my pay in my hond,
And belyve go me fro!

REX.

I gravnt þe, syr, so God me save!
Lo, here is all þi connownt,
All redy þou xall it have,
And a marke more þan þi gravnt!

And þou, page, for þi good obedyentt,
I gyff yow, besyde yower styntt,
Eche of yow a marke for yower wage!

NAWTA.
Now he þat mad bothe day and nyth,
He sped yow in yower ryth,
Well to go on yower passage!

[Jerusalem. The ship stays at the ‘coast’.]
PETYR.
Now all creaturs vpon mold,
Þat byn of Crystys creacyon,
To worchep Jhesu þey are behold,
Nore nevyr aȝens hym to make waryacyon.

REX.
Syr, feythfully I beseche yow þis daye:
Wher Petyr þe apostull is, wete wold I!

PETYR.
Itt is I, syr, wythowt delay!
Of yower askyng, tell me qwy.

REX.
Syr, þe soth I xall yow seyn,
And tell yow myn intentt wythin a whyle.
Þer is a woman, hyth Mary Mavdleyn,
Þat hether hath laberyd me owt of Marcyll—
Onto þe wyche woman I thynk no gyle—
And þis pylgramage cavsyd me to take.
I woll tell yow more of þe stylle,
For to crestyn me from wo and wrake.

PETYR.
O, blyssyd be þe tyme þat ȝe are falle to grace,
And ȝe wyll kepe yower beleve aftyr my techeyng,
And alle-only forsake þe fynd Saternas,
The commavndme[n]ttys of God to have in kepyng!

REX.
Forsoth, I beleve in þe Father, þat is of all wyldyng,
And in þe Son, Jhesu Cryst,
Also in þe Holy Gost, hys grace to vs spredyng!
I beleve in Crystys deth, and hys vprysyng!

PETYR.
Syr, þan whatt axke ȝe?

REX.
Holy father, baptym, for charyte,
Me to save in eche degre
From þe fyndys bond!

PETYR.
In þe name of þe Trenite,
Wyth þis watyr I baptysse þe,
Þat þou mayst strong be,
Aȝen þe fynd to stond.

Tunc aspargit illum cum aqua.
REX.
A, holy fathyr, how my hart wyll be sor
Of cummav[n]ddementt, and ȝe declare nat þe sentens!

PETYR.
Syr, dayly ȝe xall lobor more and more,
Tyll þat ȝe have very experyens.
Wyth me xall ȝe wall to have more eloquens,
And goo vesyte þe stacyons, by and by;
To Nazareth and Bedlem, goo wyth delygens,
And be yower own inspeccyon, yower feyth to edyfy.

REX.
Now, holy father, derevorthy and dere,
Myn intent now know ȝe.
Itt is gon full to ȝere
Þat I cam to yow owere þe se,
Crystys servont, and yower to be,
And þe lave of hym evyr to fulfyll.
Now woll I hom into my contre.
Yower pvere blyssynd gravnt vs tylle—
Þat, feythfully, I crave!

PETRUS.
Now in þe name of Jhesu,
Cum Patre et Sancto Speritu,
He kepe þe and save!

Et tunc rex transit ad navem, et dicit rex:
[REX].
Hold ner, shepman, hold, hold!

BOY.
Syr, ȝendyr is on callyd aftyr cold!

NAVTA.
A, syr! I ken yow of old!
Be my trowth, ȝe be welcum to me!

REX.
Now, gentyll marranere, I þe pray,
Whatsoewer þat I pay,
In all þe hast þat ȝe may,
Help me owyr þe se!

NAVTA.
In good soth we byn atenddawntt!
Gladly ȝe xall have yower gravnt,
Wythowtyn ony connownt.
Comme in, in Goddys name!
Grobbe, boy! Þe wynd is nor-west!
Fast abowth þe seyle cast!
Rere vp þe seyll in all þe hast,
As well as þou can!

Et tunc navis venit adcirca placeam. Rex dicit:
[REX].
Mastyr of þe shyp, cast forth yower yee!
Me thynkyt þe rokke I gyn to aspye!
Gentyll mastyr þether vs gye—
I xall qwyt yower mede.

NAVTA.
I[n] feyth, it is þe same ston
Þat yower wyff lyeth vpon!
Ye xall be þer even anon,
Werely, indede!

REX.

O þou myty Lord of heven region,
Ȝendyr is my babe of myn own nature,
Preservyd and keptt from all corrupcyon!
Blyssyd be þat Lord þat þe dothe socure,
And my wyff lyeth here, fayer and puer!

Fayere and clere is hur colour to se!
A, good Lord, yower grace wyth vs indure,

My wyvys lyfe for to illumyn.
A, blyssyd be þat puer vergyn!
From grevos slepe she gynnyt revyve!
A, þe sonne of grace on vs doth shynne!
Now blyssyd be God, I se my wyff alyve!

REGINA.

O virgo salutata, for ower savacyon!
O pulcra et casta, cum of nobyll alyavns!
O almyty Maydyn, ower sowlys confortacyon!
O demvr Mavdlyn, my bodyys sustynavns!
Þou hast wr[a]ppyd vs in wele from all waryawns,
And led me wyth my lord i[n]to þe Holy Lond!
I am baptysyd, as ye are, be Maryvs gyddavns,
Of Sent Petyrys holy hand.

I sye þe blyssyd crosse þat Cryst shed on hys precyvs blod;
Hys blyssyd sepulcur also se I.
Whe[r]for, good hosbond, be mery in mode,
For I have gon þe stacyounys, by and by!

REX.
I thanke it Jhesu, wyth hart on hye!
Now have I my wyf and my chyld both!
I thank ytt Mavdleyn and Ower Lady,
And evyr shall do, wythowtyn othe.

Et tunc remigant a monte, et navta dicit:
[NAVTA].
Now ar ye past all perelle—
Her is þe lond of Marcylle!
Now goo a lond, syr, whan ȝe wyll,
I prye yow for my sake!

REX.
Godamercy, jentyll marraner!
Here is ten poundys of nobyllys cler,
And euer þe frynd both ferre and nere,
Cryst save þe from wo and wrake!

Here goth þe shep owt of þe place, and Mavd[leyn] seyth:
[Marcylle.]
[MARY MAVDLEYN].

O dere fryndys, be in hart stabyll!
And [thynk] how dere Cryst hathe yow bowth!
Aȝens God, be nothyng vereabyll—
Thynk how he mad all thyng of nowth!
Thow yow in poverte sumtyme be browth,
[Ȝ]itte be in charyte both nyth and day,
For þey byn blyssyd þat so byn sowth,
For ‘pavpertas est donum Dei’.

God blyssyt alle þo þat byn meke and good,
And he blyssyd all þo þat wepe for synne.
Þey be blyssyd þat þe hungor and þe thorsty gyff fode;
Þey be blyssyd þat byn mercyfull aȝen wrecched men;
Þey byn blyssyd þat byn dysstroccyon of synne—
Thes byn callyd þe chyldyren of lyfe,
Onto þe wyche blysse bryng both yow and me
That for vs dyyd on þe rode tre! Amen.

Here xall þe kyng and þe quvene knele doun. Rex dicit:
[REX].
Heyll be þou, Mary! Ower Lord is wyth the!
The helth of ower sowllys, and repast contemplatyff!
Heyll, tabyrnakyll of þe blyssyd Trenite!
Heyll, covnfortabyll sokore for man and wyff!

REGINA.
Heyll, þou chosyn and chast of wommen alon!
It passyt my wett to tell þi nobyllnesse!
Þou relevyst me and my chyld on þe rokke of ston,
And also savyd vs be þi hye holynesse.

MARY.
Welcum hom, prynse and prynsses bothe!
Welcum hom, yong prynsse of dew and ryth!
Welcum hom to your own erytage wythowt othe,
And to alle yower pepyll present in syth!
Now ar ȝe becum Goddys own knygth,

For sowle helth salve ded ȝe seche,
In hom þe Holy Gost hath take resedens,
And drevyn asyde all þe desepcyon of wrech.
And now have ȝe a knowle[ge] of þe sentens,
How ȝe xall com onto grace!
But now in yower godys aȝen I do yow sese.
I trost I have governyd þem to yower hertys ese.
Now woll I labor forth, God to plese,
More gostly strenkth me to purchase!

REX.
O blyssyd Mary, to comprehend
Ower swete sokor, on vs have pete!

REGINA.
To departe from vs, why shovld ȝe pretende?
O blyssyd lady, putt vs nat to þat poverte!

MARY.
Of yow and yowers I wyll have rememberavns,
And dayly [y]ower bede woman for to be,
Þat alle wyckydnesse from yow may have deleverans,
In quiet and rest þat leve may ȝe!

REX.
Now thanne, yower puere blyssyng gravnt vs tylle.

MARI.

The blyssyn of God mott yow fulfyll.

Ille vos benedicatt, qui sene fine vivit et regnat!

Her goth Mary into þe wyldyrnesse, þus seyyng Rex:
REX.
A! We may syyn and wepyn also,
Þat we have forgon þis lady fre—
It brynggytt my hart in care and woo—
Þe whech ower gydde and governor shovld a be!

REGINA.
Þat doth perswade all my ble,
Þat swete sypresse, þat she wold so.
In me restytt neyther game nor gle
That she wold from owere presens goo.

REX.
Now of hyr goyng I am nothyng glad!
But my londdys to gyddyn I mvst aplye,
Lyke as Sancte Peter me badde,
Chyrchys in cetyys I woll edyfye;
And whoso aȝens ower feyth woll replye,

I woll ponysch [s]wych personnys wyth perplyxcyon!
Mahond and hys lawys I defye!
A, hys pryde owt of my love xall have polucyon,
And holle onto Jhesu I me betake!

Mari in herimo.
[MARI].
In þis deserte abydyn wyll wee,
My sowle from synne for to save;
I wyll evyr abyte me wyth humelyte,
And put me in pacyens, my Lord for to love.
In charyte my werkys I woll grave,
And in abstynens, all dayys of my lyfe.
Thus my concyens of me doth crave;
Than why shold I wyth my consyens st[r]yffe?
And ferdarmore, I wyll leven in charyte,
At þe reverens of Ower Blyssyd Lady,
In goodnesse to be lyberall, my sowle to edyfye.
Of wordly fodys I wyll leve all refeccyon;
Be þe fode þat commyt from heven on hye,
Thatt God wyll me send, be contemplatyff.

[Heaven Stage]
JHESUS.
O, þe swettnesse of prayors sent onto me
Fro my wel-belovyd frynd wythowt waryovns!
Wyth gostly fode relevyd xall she be.
Angellys! Into þe clowdys ye do hyr havns,
Þer fede wyth manna to hyr systynovns.
Wyth joy of angyllys, þis lett hur receyve.
Byd hur injoye wyth all hur afyawns,
For fynddys frawd xall hur non deseyve.

PRIMUS ANGELUS.
O þou redulent rose, þat of a vergyn sprong!
O þou precyus palme of wytory!
O þou osanna, angellys song!
O precyus gemme, born of Ower Lady!
Lord, þi commav[n]ddement we obbey lowly!
To þi servant þat þou hast gravntyd blysse,
We angellys all obeyyn devowtly.
We woll desend to yen wyldyrnesse.

Here xall to angyllys desend into wyldyrnesse, and other to xall bryng an oble, opynly aperyng aloft in þe clowddys; þe to benethyn xall bryng Mari, and she xall receyve þe bred, and þan go aȝen into wyldyrnesse.
SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
Mari, God gretyt þe wyth hevenly influens!
He hath sent þe grace wyth hevenly synys.
Þou xall byn onoryd wyth joye and reverens,
Inhansyd in heven above wergynnys!
Þou hast byggyd þe here among spynys—
God woll send þe fode be revelacyon.
Þou xall be receyvyd into þe clowddys,
Gostly fode to reseyve to þi savacyon.

MARI.
Fiat voluntas tua in heven and erth!
Now am I full of joye and blysse!
Lavd and preyse to þat blyssyd byrth!
I am redy, as hys blyssyd wyll isse.

Her xall she be halsyd wyth angellys wyth reverent song. Asumpta est Maria in nubibus. Celi gavdent, angeli lavdantes felium Dei, et dicit Mari:
[MARI].
O þou Lord of lorddys, of hye domenacyon!
In hewen and erth worsheppyd be þi name.
How þou devydyst me from hovngure and wexacyon!
O gloryus Lord, in þe is no fravddys nor no defame!
But I xuld serve my Lord, I were to blame,
Wych fullfyllyt me wyth so gret felicete,
Wyth melody of angyllys shewit me gle and game,
And have fed me wyth fode of most delycyte!

Her xall speke an holy prest in þe same wyldyrnesse, þus seyyng þe prest:
[PREST].
O Lord of lorddys! What may þis be?
So gret mesteryys shewyd from heven,
Wyth grett myrth and melody
Wyth angyllys brygth as þe lewyn!
Lord Jhesu, for þi namys sewynne,
As gravnt me grace þat person to se!

Her he xal go in þe wyldyrnesse and spye Mari in hyr devocyon, þus seyyng þe prest:
[PREST].
Heyl, creature, Crystys delecceon!
Heyl, swetter þan sugur or cypresse!
Mary is þi name be angyllys relacyon;
Grett art þou wyth God for þi perfythnesse!
Þe joye of Jherusallem shewyd þe expresse,
Þe wych I nevyr save þis thirty wyntyr and more!
Wherfor I know well þou art of gret perfy[t]nesse,
I woll pray yow hartely to she[w] me of yower Lord!

MARI.
Be þe grace of my Lord Jhesus
Þis thirty wyntyr þis hath byn my selle,
And thryys on þe day enhansyd þus
Wyth more joy þan ony tong can telle
Nevyr creature cam þer I dwelle,
Tyme nor tyde, day nore nyth,
Þat I can wyth spece telle,
But alonly wyth Goddys angyllys brygth.
But þou art wolcum onto my syth,
Yf þou be of good conversacyon.
As I thynk in my delyth,
Thow sholddyst be a man of devocyon.

PREST.
In Crystys lav I am sacryed a pryst,
Mynystryyd be angelys at my masse.
I sakor þe body of ower Lord Jhesu Cryst,
And be þat holy manna I leve in sowthfastnesse.

MARI.
Now I rejoyse of yower goodnesse,
But tyme is comme þat I xall asende.

PRYST.
I recummend me wyth all vmbylnesse;
Onto my sell I woll pretend.

Her xall þe prest go to hys selle, þus seyyng Jhesus:
[Heaven Stage]
JHESUS.
Now xall Mary have possessyon,
Be ryth enirytawns a crown to bere.

She xall be fett to evyrlastyng savacyon,
In joye to dwell wythowtyn fere.
Now, angelys, lythly þat ȝe were ther!
Onto þe prystys sell apere þis tyde.
My body in forme of bred þat he bere,
Hur for to hossell, byd hym provyde.

PRIMUS ANGELUS.
O blyssyd Lord, we be redy,
Yower massage to do wythowtyn treson!

SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
To hyr I wyll goo and make reportur,
How she xall com to yower habytacyon.

Here xall to angellys go to Mary and to þe prest, þus seyyng þe angellys to þe prest:
ANGELLYS.
Syr pryst, God cummav[n]dytt from heven region
Ȝe xall go hosyll hys servont expresse,
And we wyth yow xall take mynystracyon
To bere lyth before hys body of worthynesse.

PRYST.
Angyllys, wyth all vmbyllnesse,
In a westment I wyll me aray,
To mynystyr my Lord of gret hynesse;
Straytt þerto I take þe way!

In herimo.
SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
Mary, be glad, and in hart strong
To reseyve þe palme of grett wytory!
Þis day ȝe xall be reseyvyd wyth angellys song!
Yower sowle xall departe from yower body.

MARI.
A, good Lord, I thank þe wythowt weryawns!
Þis day I am grovndyd all in goodnesse,
Wyth hart and body conclvdyd in substawns.
I thanke þe, Lord, wyth speryt of perfythnesse!

Hic aparuit angelus et presbiter cum corpus domenicum.
[PRESBITYR].
Þou blyssyd woman, invre in mekenesse,
I have browth þe þe bred of lyf to þi syth,
To make þe suere from all dystresse,
Þi sowle to bryng to euyrlastyng lyth.

MARI.
O þou mythty Lord of hye mageste,
Þis celestyall bred for to determyn,
Thys tyme to reseyve it in me,
My sowle þerwyth to illumyn.
Her she reseyvyt it.
I thank þe, Lord of ardent love!
Now I know well I xall nat opprese.
Lord, lett me se þi joyys above!
I recummend my sowle onto þi blysse!
Lord, opyn þi blyssyd gatys!
Thys erth at thys tyme fervenly I kysse!
In manus tuas, Domine!
Lord, wyth þi grace me wysse!
Commendo spiritum meum! Redemisti me,
Domine Devs veritatis!

PRIMUS ANGELUS.
Now reseyve we þis sowle, as reson is,
In heven to dwelle vs among.

SECUNDUS ANGELUS.
Wythowtyn end to be in blysse!
Now lett vs syng a mery song!

Gavdent in celis.
PRYST.

O good God, grett is þi grace!
O Jhesu, Jhesu! Blessyd be þi name!
A, Mary, Mary! Mych is þi solas,
In heven blysse wyth gle and game!
Þi body wyl I cure from alle manyr blame,
And I wyll passe to þe bosshop of þe sete
Thys body of Mary to berye be name,
Wyth alle reverens and solemnyte.

Sufferens of þis processe, thus enddyt þe sentens
That we have playyd in yower syth.

Allemythty God, most of magnyfycens,
Mote bryng yow to hys blysse so brygth,
In presens of þat Kyng!
Now, frendys, thus endyt thys matere—
To blysse bryng þo þat byn here!
Now, clerkys, wyth woycys cler,
‘Te Deum lavdamus’ lett vs syng!

Explycit oreginale de Sancta Maria Magdalena.

Yff ony thyng amysse be,
Blame connyng, and nat me!
I desyer þe redars to be my frynd,
Yff þer be ony amysse, þat to amend.