 | The Cutteleres |  |
[Scene I,
Pilate's Hall.]
1.
Pil.
Vndir þe ryallest roye of rente and renowne,
Now am I regent of rewle þis region in reste,
Obeye vnto bidding bud busshoppis me bowne,
And bolde men þat in batayll makis brestis to breste.
To me be-taught is þe tent þis towre begon towne,
For traytoures tyte will I taynte, þe trewþe for to triste,
The dubbyng of my dingnite may noȝt be done downe,
Nowdir with duke nor dugeperes, my dedis are so dreste.
My desire muste dayly be done
With þame þat are grettest of game,
And þer agayne fynde I but fone,
Wherfore I schall bettir þer bone.
But he þat me greues for a grume,
Be-ware, for wystus I am.
Now am I regent of rewle þis region in reste,
Obeye vnto bidding bud busshoppis me bowne,
And bolde men þat in batayll makis brestis to breste.
To me be-taught is þe tent þis towre begon towne,
For traytoures tyte will I taynte, þe trewþe for to triste,
The dubbyng of my dingnite may noȝt be done downe,
Nowdir with duke nor dugeperes, my dedis are so dreste.
My desire muste dayly be done
With þame þat are grettest of game,
And þer agayne fynde I but fone,
Wherfore I schall bettir þer bone.
But he þat me greues for a grume,
Be-ware, for wystus I am.
2.
Pounce Pilatt of thre partis/Þan is my propir name;
I am a perelous prince,/To proue wher I peere
Emange þe philosofers firste/Ther fanged I my fame,
Wherfore I fell to affecte/I fynde noȝt my feere.
He schall full bittirly banne/Þat bide schall my blame;
If all my blee be as bright/As blossome on brere.
For sone his liffe shall he lose,/Or left be for lame,
Þar lowtes noȝt to me lowly,/Nor liste noȝt to leere.
And þus sen we stande in oure state,
Als lordis with all lykyng in lande,
Do and late vs wete if ȝe wate
Owthir, sirs, of bayle or debate,
Þat nedis for to be handeled full hate,
Sen all youre helpe hanges in my hande.
220
Emange þe philosofers firste/Ther fanged I my fame,
Wherfore I fell to affecte/I fynde noȝt my feere.
He schall full bittirly banne/Þat bide schall my blame;
If all my blee be as bright/As blossome on brere.
For sone his liffe shall he lose,/Or left be for lame,
Þar lowtes noȝt to me lowly,/Nor liste noȝt to leere.
And þus sen we stande in oure state,
Als lordis with all lykyng in lande,
Do and late vs wete if ȝe wate
Owthir, sirs, of bayle or debate,
Þat nedis for to be handeled full hate,
Sen all youre helpe hanges in my hande.
[Enter Caiaphas and Annas.]
3.
Caip.Sir, and for to certefie þe soth in youre sight,
As to ȝou for oure souerayne semely we seke.
Pil.
Why, is þer any myscheue þat musteres his myȝt,
Or malice thurgh meene menn vs musters to meke?
Anna.
Ȝa, Sir, þer is a ranke swayne/Whos rule is noȝt right,
For thurgh his romour in þis reme/Hath raysede mekill reke.
Pil.
I here wele ȝe hate hym,/Youre hartis are on heght,
And ellis if I helpe wolde/His harmes for to eke.
221
Bees rewly, and ray fourth your reasoune.
Caip.
Tille vs, sir, his lore is full lothe.
Pil.
Be-ware þat we wax noȝt to wrothe.
An.
Why, sir, to skyste fro his skath
We seke for youre socoure þis sesoune.
4.
Pil.And if þat wrecche in oure warde/Haue wrought any wrong,
Sen we are warned we walde witte,/And wille or we wende;
But and his sawe be lawfull,/Legge noȝt to lange,
For we schall leue hym if us list/With luffe here to lende.
i Doc.
And yf þat false faytor/Youre fortheraunce may fang,
Þan fele I wele þat oure folke/Mon fayle of a frende;
Sir þe streng[t]he of his steuen ay still is so strange,
That but he schortely be schent he schappe vs to schende.
For he kennes folke hym for to call
Grete god son, þus greues vs þat gome,
And sais þat he sittande be schall,
In high heuen, for þere is his hall.
Pil.
And frendis if þat force to hym fall,
It semes noȝt ȝe schall hym consume.
It semes noȝt ȝe schall hym consume.
5.
But þat hymselfe is þe same/Ȝe saide schulde descende,
Ȝoure seede and ȝou þen all for to socoure.
Ȝoure seede and ȝou þen all for to socoure.
Cayp.
A! softe sir, and sese,
For of criste whan he comes/No kynne schall be kenned;
But of þis caytiffe kynreden/We knawe þe encrese.
222
To lifte vppe þe laby to lose or relesse.
Pil.
His maistreys schulde moue ȝou,/Youre mode for to amende.
An.
Nay, for swilke mys fro malice/We may noȝt vs meese,
For he sais he schall deme vs, þat dote,
And þat tille vs is dayne or dispite.
Pil.
To noye hym nowe is youre noote,
But ȝitt þe lawe lyes in my lotte.
i doc.
And yf ȝe will witt sir, ȝe wotte,
Þat he is wele worthy to wyte.
Þat he is wele worthy to wyte.
6.
For in oure temple has he taught/By tymes moo þan tenne,
Where tabillis full of tresoure lay/To telle and to trye,
Of oure cheffe mony-changers;/Butte, curstely to kenne,
He caste þam ouere, þat caytiffe,/And counted noȝt þer by.
Where tabillis full of tresoure lay/To telle and to trye,
Of oure cheffe mony-changers;/Butte, curstely to kenne,
He caste þam ouere, þat caytiffe,/And counted noȝt þer by.
Cay.
Loo! sir, þis is a periurye/To prente vndir penne,
Wher-fore, make ȝe þat appostita,/We praye ȝou, to plye.
Pil.
How mene ȝe?
Cay.
Sir, to mort hym for mouyng of menne.
Pil.
Þan schulde we make hym to morne/But thurgh ȝoure maistrie.
Latte be sirs, and move þat no more
But what in youre temple be-tyde.
i Mil.
We! þare sir, he skelpte oute of score,
Þat stately stode selland þer store.
Pil.
Þan felte he þam fawte be-fore,
And made þe cause wele to be kydde.
And made þe cause wele to be kydde.
223
7.
But what taught he þat tyme,/Swilk tales as þou telles?
i Mil.
Sir, þat oure tempill is þe toure/Of his troned sire,
And þus to prayse in þat place/Oure prophettis compellis,
Tille hym þat has poste/Of Prince and of Empire.
And þei make domus domini/Þat derand þare dwellis,
Þe denn of þe derfenes/And ofte þat þei desire.
Pil.
Loo! is he noght a mad man/Þat for youre mede melles?
Sen ȝe ymagyn a-mys/Þat makeles to myre.
Ȝoure rankoure is raykand full rawe.
Cay.
Nay, nay, sir, we rewle vs but right.
Pil.
For sothe, ȝe ar ouer cruell to knawe.
Cay.
Why, sir? for he wolde lose oure lawe
Hartely we hym hate as we awe,
And þerto schulde ȝe mayntayne oure myght.
Hartely we hym hate as we awe,
And þerto schulde ȝe mayntayne oure myght.
8.
For why, vppon oure sabbott day/Þe seke makes he saffe,
And will noȝt sesse for oure sawes/To synke so in synne.
And will noȝt sesse for oure sawes/To synke so in synne.
ii Mil.
Sir, he coueres all þat comes/Recoueraunce to craue,
But in a schorte contynuaunce/Þat kennes all oure kynne.
But he haldis noght oure haly dayes,/Harde happe myght hym haue!
224
Pil.
A! hoo sir, nowe, and holde in?
For þoff ȝe gange þus gedy/Hym gilteles to graue,
With-outen grounde ȝow gaynes noght,/Swilke greffe to be-gynne.
And loke youre leggyng be lele,
With-owtyn any tryfils to telle.
An.
For certayne owre sawes dare we seele.
Pil.
And þan may we prophite oure pele.
Cay.
Sir, bot his fawtes were fele,
We mente noȝt of hym for to melle.
We mente noȝt of hym for to melle.
9.
For he pervertis oure pepull/Þat proues his prechyng,
And for þat poynte ȝe schulde prese/His pooste to paire.
And for þat poynte ȝe schulde prese/His pooste to paire.
ii doc.
Ȝa, sir, and also þat caytiff/He callis hym oure kyng,
And for þat cause our comons are casten in care.
Pil.
And if so be, þat borde to bayll will hym bryng,
And make hym boldely to banne þe bones þat hym bare.
For-why þat wrecche fro oure wretthe schal not wryng,
Or þer be wrought on hym wrake.
i doc.
So wolde we it ware.
For so schulde ȝe susteyne youre seele,
And myldely haue mynde for to meke ȝou.
Pil.
Wele, witte ȝe þis werke schall be wele,
For kende schall þat knave be to knele.
ii doc.
And so þat oure force he may feele,
All samme for þe same we beseke ȝou.
| The Cutteleres | |