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SCENE III


178

SCENE III

MERCY.
My mynde ys dyspersyde, my body trymmelyth as þe aspen leffe.
The terys xuld trekyll down by my chekys, were not yowr reuerrence.
Yt were to me solace, þe cruell vysytacyon of deth.
Wythout rude behauer I kan not expresse þis inconvenyens.
Wepynge, sythynge, and sobbynge were my suffycyens;
All naturall nutriment to me as caren ys odybull.
My inwarde afflixcyon ȝeldyth me tedyouse wnto yowr presens.
I kan not bere yt ewynly þat Mankynde ys so flexybull.
Man onkynde, whereuer þou be! for all þis world was not aprehensyble
To dyscharge þin orygynall offence, thraldam and captyuyte,
Tyll Godys own welbelouyde son was obedient and passyble.
Euery droppe of hys bloode was schede to purge þin iniquite.
I dyscomende and dysalow þin oftyn mutabylyte.
To euery creature þou art dyspectuose and odyble.
Why art þou so oncurtess, so inconsyderatt? Alasse, who ys me!
As þe fane þat turnyth wyth þe wynde, so þou art conuertyble.
In trust ys treson; þi promes ys not credyble;
Thy peruersyose ingratytude I can not rehers.
To God and to all þe holy corte of hewyn þou art despectyble,
As a nobyll versyfyer makyth mencyon in þis verse:
‘Lex et natura, Cristus et omnia jura
Damnant ingratum, lugent eum fore natum.’
O goode Lady and Moþer of mercy, haue pety and compassyon
Of þe wrechydnes of Mankynde, þat ys so wanton and so frayll!
Lett mercy excede justyce, dere Moþer, amytt þis supplycacyon,
Equyte to be leyde onparty and mercy to prevayll.

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To sensuall lyvynge ys reprouable, þat ys nowadays,
As be þe comprehence of þis mater yt may be specyfyede.
New Gyse, Nowadays, Nought wyth þer allectuose ways
They haue pervertyde Mankynde, my swet sun, I haue well espyede.
A, wyth þes cursyde caytyfs, and I may, he xall not long indure.
I, Mercy, hys father gostly, wyll procede forth and do my propyrte.
Lady, helpe! þis maner of lyuynge ys a detestabull plesure.
Vanitas vanitatum, all ys but a vanyte.
Mercy xall neuer be convicte of hys oncurtes condycyon.
Wyth wepynge terys be nyȝte and be day I wyll goo and neuer sesse.
Xall I not fynde hym? Yes, I hope. Now Gode be my proteccyon!
My predylecte son, where be ye? Mankynde, vbi es?

MYSCHEFF.
My prepotent fader, when ȝe sowpe, sowpe owt yowr messe.
Ȝe are all to-gloryede in yowr termys; ȝe make many a lesse.
Wyll ȝe here? He cryeth euer ‘Mankynde, vbi es?’

NEW GYSE.
Hic hyc, hic hic, hic hic, hic hic!
Þat ys to sey, here, here, here! ny dede in þe cryke.
Yf ȝe wyll haue hym, goo and syke, syke, syke!
Syke not ouerlong, for losynge of yowr mynde!

NOWADAYS.
Yf ȝe wyll haue Mankynde, how domine, domine, dominus!
Ȝe must speke to ȝe schryue for a cape corpus,
Ellys ȝe must be fayn to retorn wyth non est inventus.
How sey ȝe, ser? My bolte ys schett.

NOUGHT.
I am doynge of my nedyngys; be ware how ȝe schott!
Fy, fy, fy! I haue fowll arayde my fote.
Be wyse for schotynge wyth yowr takyllys, for Gode wott
My fote ys fowly ouerschett.


180

MYSCHEFF.
A parlement, a parlement! Cum forth, Nought, behynde.
A cownsell belyue! I am aferde Mercy wyll hym fynde.
How sey ȝe, and what sey ȝe? How xall we do wyth Mankynde?

NEU GYSE.
Tysche! a flyes weyng! Wyll ȝe do well?
He wenyth Mercy were honge for stelyng of a mere.
Myscheff, go sey to hym þat Mercy sekyth euerywere.
He wyll honge hymselff, I wndyrtake, for fere.

MYSCHEFF.
I assent þerto; yt ys wyttyly seyde and well.

NOWADAYS.
Qwyppe yt in þi cote; anon yt were don.
Now Sent Gabryellys modyr saue þe cloþes of þi schon!
All þe bokys in þe worlde, yf þei hade be wndon,
Kowde not a cownselde ws bett. Hic exit MYSCHEFF

MYSCHEFF.
How, Mankynde! Cumm and speke wyth Mercy, he is here fast by.

MANKYNDE.
A roppe, a rope, a rope! I am not worthy.

MYSCHEFF.
Anon, anon, anon! I haue yt here redy,
Wyth a tre also þat I haue gett.
Holde þe tre, Nowadays, Nought! Take hede and be wyse!

NEU GYSE.
Lo, Mankynde! do as I do; þis ys þi new gyse.
Gyff þe roppe just to þy neke; þis ys myn avyse.

MYSCHEFF.
Helpe þisylff, Nought! Lo, Mercy ys here!
He skaryth ws wyth a bales; we may no lengere tary.

NEU GYSE.
Qweke, qweke, qweke! Alass, my thrott! I beschrew yow, mary!
A, Mercy, Crystys coppyde curse go wyth yow, and Sent Dauy!
Alasse, my wesant! Ȝe were sumwhat to nere.

Exiant
MERCY.
Aryse, my precyose redempt son! Ȝe be to me full dere.
He ys to tymerouse, me semyth hys vytall spryt doth exspyre.

MANKYNDE.
Alasse, I haue be so bestyally dysposyde, I dare not apere.
To se yowr solaycyose face I am not worthy to dysyere.


181

MERCY.
Yowr crymynose compleynt wondyth my hert as a lance.
Dyspose yowrsylff mekly to aske mercy, and I wyll assent.
Ȝelde me nethyr golde nor tresure, but yowr humbyll obeysyance,
The voluntary subjeccyon of yowr hert, and I am content.

MANKYNDE.
What, aske mercy ȝet onys agayn? Alas, yt were a wyle petycyun.
Ewyr to offend and euer to aske mercy, yt ys a puerilite.
Yt ys so abhominabyll to rehers my iterat transgrescion,
I am not worthy to hawe mercy be no possibilite.

MERCY.
O Mankend, my singler solas, þis is a lamentabyll excuse.
The dolorus terys of my hert, how þei begyn to amownt!
O pirssid Jhesu, help þou þis synfull synner to redouce!
Nam hec est mutacio dextre Excelsi; vertit impios et non sunt.
Aryse and aske mercy, Mankend, and be associat to me.
Thy deth schall be my hewynesse; alas, tys pety yt schwld be þus.
Thy obstinacy wyll exclude the fro þe glorius perpetuite.
Ȝet for my lofe ope thy lyppys and sey ‘Miserere mei, Deus!’

MANKEND.
The egall justyse of God wyll not permytte sych a synfull wrech
To be rewyvyd and restoryd ageyn; yt were impossibyll.

MERCY.
The justyce of God wyll as I wyll, as hymsylfe doth precyse:
Nolo mortem peccatoris, inquit, yff he wyll be redusyble.

MANKEND.
Þan mercy, good Mercy! What ys a man wythowte mercy?
Lytyll ys our parte of paradyse were mercy ne were.

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Good Mercy, excuse þe ineuytabyll objeccion of my gostly enmy.
The prowerbe seyth ‘Þe trewth tryith þe sylfe.’ Alas, I hawe mech care.

MERCY.
God wyll not make ȝow preuy onto hys last jugement.
Justyce and Equite xall be fortyfyid, I wyll not denye.
Trowthe may not so cruelly procede in hys streyt argument
But þat Mercy schall rewle þe mater wythowte contrauersye.
Aryse now and go wyth me in thys deambulatorye.
Inclyne yowyr capacite; my doctrine ys conuenient.
Synne not in hope of mercy; þat ys a cryme notary.
To truste ouermoche in a prince yt ys not expedient.
In hope when ȝe syn ȝe thynke to hawe mercy, be ware of þat awenture.
The good Lord seyd to þe lecherus woman of Chanane,
The holy gospell ys þe awtorite, as we rede in scrypture,
‘Vade et jam amplius noli peccare.’
Cryst preserwyd þis synfull woman takeyn in awowtry;
He seyde to here þeis wordys, ‘Go and syn no more.’
So to ȝow, go and syn no more. Be ware of weyn confidens of mercy;
Offend not a prince on trust of hys fauour, as I seyd before.
Yf ȝe fele ȝoursylfe trappyd in þe snare of your gostly enmy,
Aske mercy anon; be ware of þe contynuance.
Whyll a wond ys fresch yt ys prowyd curabyll be surgery,
Þat yf yt procede ouyrlong, yt ys cawse of gret grewans.

MANKEND.
To aske mercy and to hawe, þis ys a lyberall possescion.
Schall þis expedycius petycion euer be alowyd, as ȝe hawe insyght?

MERCY.
In þis present lyfe mercy ys plente, tyll deth makyth hys dywysion;
But whan ȝe be go, vsque ad minimum quadrantem ȝe schall rekyn ȝour ryght.

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Aske mercy and hawe, whyll þe body wyth þe sowle hath hys annexion;
Yf ye tary tyll your dyscesse, ȝe may hap of your desyre to mysse.
Be repentant here, trust not þe owr of deth; thynke on þis lessun:
‘Ecce nunc tempus acceptabile, ecce nunc dies salutis.’
All þe wertu in þe word yf ȝe myght comprehend
Your merytys were not premyabyll to þe blys abowe,
Not to the lest joy of hewyn, of ȝour propyr efforte to ascend.
Wyth mercy ȝe may; I tell ȝow no fabyll, scrypture doth prowe.

MANKEND.
O Mercy, my suavius solas and synguler recreatory,
My predilecte spesyall, ȝe are worthy to hawe my lowe;
For wythowte deserte and menys supplicatorie
Ȝe be compacient to my inexcusabyll reprowe.
A, yt swemyth my hert to thynk how onwysely I hawe wroght.
Tytiuillus, þat goth invisibele, hyng hys nett before my eye
And by hys fantasticall visionys sediciusly sowght,
To New Gyse, Nowadayis, Nowght causyd me to obey.

MERCY.
Mankend, ȝe were obliuyows of my doctrine monytorye.
I seyd before, Titiuillus wold asay ȝow a bronte.
Be ware fro hensforth of hys fablys delusory.
Þe prowerbe seyth, ‘Jacula prestita minus ledunt.’
Ȝe hawe thre aduersaryis and he ys mayster of hem all:
That ys to sey, the Dewell, þe World, þe Flesch and þe Fell.
The New Gyse, Nowadayis, Nowgth, þe World we may hem call;
And propyrly Titiuillus syngnyfyth the Fend of helle;
The Flesch, þat ys þe vnclene concupissens of ȝour body.
These be ȝour thre gostly enmyis, in whom ȝe hawe put ȝour confidens.

184

Þei browt ȝow to Myschesse to conclude ȝour temporall glory,
As yt hath be schewyd before þis worcheppyll audiens.
Remembyr how redy I was to help ȝow; fro swheche I was not dangerus;
Wherfore, goode sunne, absteyne fro syn euermore after þis.
Ȝe may both saue and spyll ȝowr sowle þat ys so precyus.
Libere welle, libere nolle God may not deny iwys.
Be ware of Titiuillus wyth his net and of all enmys will,
Of ȝour synfull delectacion þat grewyth ȝour gostly substans.
Ȝour body ys ȝour enmy; let hym not haue hys wyll.
Take ȝour lewe whan ȝe wyll. God send ȝow good perseuerans!

MANKEND.
Syth I schall departe, blyse me, fader, her þen I go.
God send ws all plente of hys gret mercy!

MERCY.
Dominus custodit te ab omni malo
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen!
Hic exit MANKEND
Wyrschepyll sofereyns, I hawe do my propirte:
Mankynd ys deliueryd by my fauerall patrocynye.
God preserue hym fro all wyckyd captiuite
And send hym grace hys sensuall condicions to mortifye!
Now for hys lowe þat for vs receywyd hys humanite,
Serge ȝour condicyons wyth dew examinacion.
Thynke and remembyr þe world ys but a wanite,
As yt ys prowyd daly by diuerse transmutacyon.
Mankend ys wrechyd, he hath sufficyent prowe.
Therefore God grant ȝow all per suam misericordiam
Þat ye may be pleyferys wyth þe angellys abowe
And hawe to ȝour porcyon vitam eternam. Amen!

Fynis.