The Cokis and Watirlederes XXXII. Second accusation before Pilate : remorse of Judas, and purchase of Field of Blood |
 | The Cokis and Watirlederes |  |
[Scene, Pilate's Hall.]
Sir, þat is prince and lorde of oure laye,
That traitour vntrewe þat ye of telle vs,
Nowe certayne and sone þe soth schall I saie,
It is Jesus þat japer þat Judas ganne selle vs.
He marres oure men in all þat he may,
His merueylis full mekill is mustered emelle vs,
He dois many derffe dedis on oure sabotte day,
Þat vn-connand conjeon he castis hym to quelle vs.
Fro man on to man he will compelle vs,
And vndo you and our selffe als.
Youre selffe he will for-do
And he halde furth þis space,
And all þis Jurie to,
Yf þat ye graunte hym grace.
Sir Anna, þis aunswere allow I no thyng,
I holde it but hatereden, þis artikill hale,
And therfore, sir Busshoppe, at my biddyng,
Do telle me nowe trewly þe texte of þis tale.
Do termyne it trewly and tyte,
And lely ȝe lede it by þe lawe,
Felonye or falsed euyn here I defie it,
Saie me sadly þe soth, for loue or for awe.
Sir Pilate, þe talis þe traitoure has tolde,
It heuys vs in harte full haly to here þam,
Þe warlowe with his wilis he wenys þam to wolde,
Þe ladde with his lesyngis full lightly gan lere þam.
Full tyte will he take þam vntill hym,
And he þus forth go with his gaudis,
Or speche ouer-sprede; ȝa, bettir is to spille hym,
The faitoure is so felle with his false fraudis.
Youre aunsweres is hedouse and hatefull to here,
Hadde I nowe herde hym and myselfe had hym sene,
Yitt ȝe myght haue made me to trowe you intere,
But faute in hym I fynde none, but conande & clene.
For conande and clene can I clepe hym,
No faute can I fynde to reffuse hym,
I hope yitt in haste ȝe schall here hym,
Whanne he comys to racleyme, þan may ȝe cuse hym.
Lorde, fele of his ferles in faith haue we fonne,
Yone harlotte heuys oure hartis full of hate ire,
He sais hym selffe þat he is goddis sone,
And schall sitte on þe right hande beside his awne sire.
ii Miles.
Þer talis is full trewe þat we telle,
On þe rayne-bowe þe rebalde it redis,
He sais he schall haue vs to heuene or to hell
To deme vs a day aftir oure dedis.
To deme vs! in þe deuyll name!/Say, whedir? saie whedir to þe deuyll?
What dastardis! wene ye be wiser þan we?
i Miles.
Mi lorde, with youre leue, we neuen it for non ill
He has mustered his meruayles to mo þan to me.
Mi souerayne lorde, yone sauterell he sais,
He schall caste doune oure tempill, noȝt for to layne,
And dresse it vppe dewly with-in thre daies,
Als wele as it was, full goodely agayne.
Ȝa, sir, and on oure awne sabott day,
Þanne werkis he werkis full wele.
Pilat.
We! fye on hym, faitour, for ay!
For þei are darke dedis of þe deuyll.
Kayph.
Sir, a noysomemare note newly is noysed,
Þat greuis me more þan any-kynne thyng,
He claymes hym clerly till a kyngdome of Jewes,
And callis hym selffe oure comeliest kyng.
Kyng! in þe deuyllis name, we! fye on hym, dastard!
What! wenys þat woode warlowe ouere-wyn vs þus lightly?
A begger of Bedlem, borne as a bastard,
Nowe by Lucifer lath I þat ladde, I leue hym not lightly.
Anna.
Sir, þe harlotte is at Heroudes hall, euyn her at your hande.
Pilat.
I sente to þat warlowe, þe deuyll myght hym wery.
Kaiph.
It langis to youre lordschippe, be lawe of þis land,
As souerayne youre selffe, to sitte of enquery.
Sir, þe traitoure has tolde vs mo trufullis truly,
Wolde tene you full tyte, and we you þam tolde:
Pilat.
Nowe, be Beliall bonis, þat boy schall abie,
And bring on his bak a burdeyne of golde.
i Filius.
Kaiph.
Nowe certis, þis was wele saide,/But sir, will ȝe sese nowe, and we schall se syne.
Pilat.
Sir Kayphas and Anna, right so nowe I thynke,
Sittis in mahoundis blissing, and aske vs þe wyne.
Ȝe knyghtis of my courte, comaundis vs to drynke.
[They drink. Enter Judas, speaking to himself.
Pilat.
What tythandis, Judas, tellis þou vs till?
My tydyngis are tenefull, I telle ȝou,
Sir Pilate, þerfore I you praye,
My maistir þat I gune selle ȝou,
Gode lorde, late hym wende on his way.
Kaiph.
Nay, nedelyngis, Judas, þat we denye,
What mynde or mater has moued þe þus?
Judas.
Sir, I haue synned full greuously,
Betraied þat right-wisse bloode, Jesus
And maistir myne.
Kaiph.
Judas.
Allas! þat may me rewe full ill,
Giffe ȝe assente hym for to slaa.
Pilat.
Why, what wolde þou þat we did þer-till?
Judas.
I praie you goode lorde, late hym gaa,
And here is of me youre paymente [playne].
Kayph.
Anna.
Do waie, Judas, þou dose for noght.
Thy wordis I warne þe are in waste.
Thy selffe to selle hym whanne þou vs sought,
Þou was agaynste hym þanne þe moste,
Of vs ilkan.
Kayph.
We schall be venged on hym in haste,
Whedir þat euere he will or none.
Þer wordis þat þou nenys noght nedis it,
Þou on-hanged harlott, hark what I saie,
Spare of thy spekyng, noght spedis it,
Or walke oute at þe dore, in þe deuill way.
Judas.
Why will ye þanne noȝt latte hym passe,
And haue of me agayne youre paie?
Pilat.
I telle þe, traytoure, I wille it noght.
Judas.
Pilat.
Nay, heriste þou, Judas, þou schall agayne,
We will it nouȝt, what deuyll art þou?
When þou vs sought þou was full fayne
Of þis money; what aylis þe nowe
For to repente?
Judas.
Agayne, sirs, here, I giffe it you,
And saue hym þat he be noȝt schent.
To schende hym thy-selfe has þe schamed,
Þou may lathe with þi liffe þat þou ledis,
Fondely as a false foole þi selffe has famed,
Therfore þe deuyll þe droune for thy darfe dedis.
Judas.
Pilat.
Judas.
I cry ȝou mercy, lorde, on me rewe,
Þis werryd wight þat wronge has wrought,
Haue mercy on my maistir trewe,
Þat I haue in youre bandome brought.
[I cry ȝou sore].
Pilat.
Goo, jape þe, Judas, and neuen it noght,
Nor move vs of þis matere more.
No more of þis matere þou move þe,
Þou momeland mytyng emell,
Oure poynte expresse her reproues þe,
Of felonye falsely and felle.
Kaiph.
He grucchis noȝt to graunte his gilte,
Why schonnys þou noȝt to schewe þi schame?
We bought hym for he schulde be spilte,
All same we were consente to þe same,
And þi selffe als;
Þou feyned noȝt for to defame,
Þou saide he was a traytoure fals.
Ȝaa, and for a false faitoure,
Thy selffe full fully gon selle hym,
O! þat was a trante of a traytour,
So sone þou schulde goo to begile hym.
i Miles.
What, wolde þou þat we lete hym ga?
Yon weried wight, þat wrought such wronge,
We will not lose oure bargayne swaa,
So lightely for to late hym gang;
And reson why
Latte we þat lotterell liffe ought long,
It will be fonde, in faith, foly.
Yone folte for no foole schall he fynde vs,
We wotte all full wele howe it was,
His maistir whanne he gune bringe vs,
He praied yow my goode lord late hym not passe.
Pilat.
Nay, sertis, he schalle noȝt passe free.
Þat we for oure mony has paied.
Judas.
Take it a-gayne þat ȝe toke me,
And saue hym fro þat bittir braide,
Þan were I fayne.
Anna.
Itt serues of noght þat þou has saide,
And therfore takis it tyte agayne.
Tyte agayne, traytoure, þou take it,
We wille it noght welde with-in oure wolde,
Ȝitt schalte þou noȝt, sawterell, þu sune for-sake it,
For I schall sers hym my selffe sen þou has hym solde.
Kaiph.
For-sake it in faith, þat he ne schall,
For we will halde hym þat we haue,
The payment chenys þe with-all,
The thar no nodir comenaunte craue.
[Nor mercy none].
Judas.
Kaiph.
Whe! fye on the, traytoure attaynte, at þis tyde;
Of treasoune þou tyxste hym, þat triste þe for trewe.
Do buske þe henne, brothell, no lenger þou abide,
For if þou do, all þi respouns sare schall þe rewe.
Say wote þou noght who is I?
Nowe be my nociens, myght I negh nere þe,
In certayne, ladde, yitt schulde I lere þe
To lordis to speke curtaisely.
Pilat.
Go thy gatis, geddlyng, and greue vs no more,
Leffe of þi talke, þe deuill mot þe hange.
Judas.
Kaiph.
Haue done nowe, Sir Pilate, late se what ȝe saie,
As touchyng þis money þat we here haue,
Þat Judas in a wreth has wauyd away,
And keste vs crabbidly, þat cursed knave.
Howe saie ȝe þer-by?
Anna.
Sir, sen he it slang, we schall it saue.
Kaiph.
Tite truste it tille oure tresorie.
Nay sir, noght soo.
Kaiph.
Why sir, how þan?
Pilat.
Sir, it schall not combre vs,
Nor come in oure Corbonan.
Kaiph.
No, tille oure tresory certayne/Farther schall it nought.
And se youre selffe soth certayne and skill
It is price of þe bloode þat we with it boght,
Therfore some othir poynte I purpose it till.
And þus I deuyse;
[Pilat.]
Anna.
As ȝe deme, lorde, so wille we doo.
[Enter an Esquire.
Armiger.
Hayle! Sir Pilate, perles and prince of þis empire,
Haile! þe gaiest on grounde, in golde þer ȝe glide,
Haile! þe louffeliest lorde of lyme and of lyre,
And all þe soferans semely þat sittith þe beside.
Pilat.
What wolde þou?
Armig.
A worde, lorde, and wende.
Pilat.
Armig.
A place here beside lorde, wolde I wedde-sette.
Pilat.
What title has þou þer-to? is it þyne awne free?
Armig.
Lorde, fre be my fredome me fallis it.
Þis tale is full trewe þat I telle ȝou,
And Caluary locus men callis it,
I wolle it wedde-sette, but not for to selle ȝou.
What wolde þou borowe, bewshire, be-lyve, late me se?
Armig.
If it ware youre lekyng, my lorde, for to lene it,
xxx pens I wolde ȝe lente on-to me.
Kayph.
Yis, bewshire, þat schall þou haue.
Pilat.
Shewe vs thi dedis and haue here þi mony.
Armig.
Haue her, gode lord, but loke ȝe þame saue.
[Gives the deeds.
Ȝis, certis, we schall saue þame full soundely,
And ellis do we noght dewly oure deuere.
Faste, freke, for thy faith, on thy fote fonde þe!
For fro þis place, bewschere, I soile þe for euere.
Armig.
[Exit Esquire.
Pilat.
Nowe certis, we are serued att all,
Þis place is purchesed full propirly,
The felde of bloode loke ȝe it call,
I you comaunde ilkone for-thy.
Sir, as ȝe comaunde vs, call it schall we soo,
But my lorde, with youre leue, we may lende her no lengar,
But faste late vs founde to fang on oure foo,
Ȝone gedlyng on-godly has brewed vs grete angir.
Anna.
Do way, Sir busshoppe, and be not a-baste,
For loste is all oure lekyng, lepe he so light.
Kaiph.
Nay, Sir, he schall not trusse so tite, and þat be ȝe traste,
For it wynnes vs no worschippe, þe werkis of yone wight,
But grete angir.
For-thy late vs dresse vs his deth for to dite,
And late we þis lotterell leue her no lengar.
Sir Kayphas, thurgh counsaile comaunde we our knyghtis,
To wacche on yone warlowe/What way þat he wendis,
Do dresse ȝou nowe dewly,/To yone doderon ȝou dightis,
And lette noȝt to laite hym/In lande where he lendis,
Nor leuys hym noȝt lightly.
ii Miles.
In faith we schall fette hym/Full farre fro his frendis.
Pilat.
Nowe walkis on in þe wanyand,
And wende youre way wightely.
1.
Pilatus.
Pees, bewscheres, I bidde you, þat beldis here aboute me,
And loke þat ȝe stirre with no striffe but stande stone still,
Or, by þe lorde þat me liffe lente, I schall garre you lowte me,
And all schall byde in my bale þat wirkis noȝt my will.
Ye rebaldis þat regnys in þis rowte,
ȝe stynte of youre steuenyng so stowte,
Or with þis brande þat dere is to doute,
All to dede I schall dryue you þis day.
And loke þat ȝe stirre with no striffe but stande stone still,
Or, by þe lorde þat me liffe lente, I schall garre you lowte me,
And all schall byde in my bale þat wirkis noȝt my will.
Ye rebaldis þat regnys in þis rowte,
ȝe stynte of youre steuenyng so stowte,
Or with þis brande þat dere is to doute,
All to dede I schall dryue you þis day.
2.
For sir Pilate of pounce as prince am y preued,
As renke moste royall in richeste array, To knawe.
Þer is no berne in þis burgh has me aboute heuyd,
But he sekis me for souereyne, in certayne y saie,
Therfore take hede to youre lordis estate,
Þat none jangill nor jolle at my ȝate,
Nor no man to grath hym no gate,
Tille I haue seggid and saide all my sawe.
For I ame þe luffeliest lappid and laide,
With feetour full faire in my face,
My forhed both brente is and brade,
And myne eyne þei glittir like þe gleme in þe glasse.
And þe hore þat hillis my heed
Is even like to þe golde wyre,
My chekis are bothe ruddy and reede,
And my coloure as cristall is cleere.
Ther is no prince preuyd vndir palle
But I ame moste myghty of all,
Nor no kyng but he schall come to my call,
Nor grome þat dare greue me for golde.
Sir Kayphas, thurgh counsaill þi clergy is kid,
For thy counsaille is knowyn for connand and clere,
And Sir Anna, þyn aunswer aught not to be hidde,
For þou is one and is abill and aught to be nere,
In Parlament playne.
And I am Prince pereles, youre poyntis to enquere.
How saie ȝe, Jues, of Jesus þat swayne?
Haue done, sirs, sais on youre sawis,
What tytill nowe haue ȝe vnto hym?
And lely ȝe loke vppon youre lawes.
Saye, why sente ȝe so sone for to spille hym?
As renke moste royall in richeste array, To knawe.
Þer is no berne in þis burgh has me aboute heuyd,
But he sekis me for souereyne, in certayne y saie,
Therfore take hede to youre lordis estate,
Þat none jangill nor jolle at my ȝate,
308
Tille I haue seggid and saide all my sawe.
For I ame þe luffeliest lappid and laide,
With feetour full faire in my face,
My forhed both brente is and brade,
And myne eyne þei glittir like þe gleme in þe glasse.
And þe hore þat hillis my heed
Is even like to þe golde wyre,
My chekis are bothe ruddy and reede,
And my coloure as cristall is cleere.
Ther is no prince preuyd vndir palle
But I ame moste myghty of all,
Nor no kyng but he schall come to my call,
Nor grome þat dare greue me for golde.
Sir Kayphas, thurgh counsaill þi clergy is kid,
For thy counsaille is knowyn for connand and clere,
And Sir Anna, þyn aunswer aught not to be hidde,
For þou is one and is abill and aught to be nere,
In Parlament playne.
And I am Prince pereles, youre poyntis to enquere.
How saie ȝe, Jues, of Jesus þat swayne?
Haue done, sirs, sais on youre sawis,
What tytill nowe haue ȝe vnto hym?
And lely ȝe loke vppon youre lawes.
Saye, why sente ȝe so sone for to spille hym?
5.
Anna.Sir, þat is prince and lorde of oure laye,
That traitour vntrewe þat ye of telle vs,
Nowe certayne and sone þe soth schall I saie,
It is Jesus þat japer þat Judas ganne selle vs.
He marres oure men in all þat he may,
His merueylis full mekill is mustered emelle vs,
He dois many derffe dedis on oure sabotte day,
Þat vn-connand conjeon he castis hym to quelle vs.
309
6.
That faitoure so false
Fro man on to man he will compelle vs,
And vndo you and our selffe als.
Youre selffe he will for-do
And he halde furth þis space,
And all þis Jurie to,
Yf þat ye graunte hym grace.
7.
Pilat.Sir Anna, þis aunswere allow I no thyng,
I holde it but hatereden, þis artikill hale,
And therfore, sir Busshoppe, at my biddyng,
Do telle me nowe trewly þe texte of þis tale.
Do termyne it trewly and tyte,
And lely ȝe lede it by þe lawe,
Felonye or falsed euyn here I defie it,
Saie me sadly þe soth, for loue or for awe.
8.
Kayphas.Sir Pilate, þe talis þe traitoure has tolde,
It heuys vs in harte full haly to here þam,
Þe warlowe with his wilis he wenys þam to wolde,
Þe ladde with his lesyngis full lightly gan lere þam.
Full tyte will he take þam vntill hym,
And he þus forth go with his gaudis,
Or speche ouer-sprede; ȝa, bettir is to spille hym,
The faitoure is so felle with his false fraudis.
9.
Pilat.Youre aunsweres is hedouse and hatefull to here,
Hadde I nowe herde hym and myselfe had hym sene,
Yitt ȝe myght haue made me to trowe you intere,
But faute in hym I fynde none, but conande & clene.
For conande and clene can I clepe hym,
No faute can I fynde to reffuse hym,
I hope yitt in haste ȝe schall here hym,
Whanne he comys to racleyme, þan may ȝe cuse hym.
10.
i Miles.Lorde, fele of his ferles in faith haue we fonne,
Yone harlotte heuys oure hartis full of hate ire,
310
And schall sitte on þe right hande beside his awne sire.
ii Miles.
Þer talis is full trewe þat we telle,
On þe rayne-bowe þe rebalde it redis,
He sais he schall haue vs to heuene or to hell
To deme vs a day aftir oure dedis.
11.
Pilat.To deme vs! in þe deuyll name!/Say, whedir? saie whedir to þe deuyll?
What dastardis! wene ye be wiser þan we?
i Miles.
Mi lorde, with youre leue, we neuen it for non ill
He has mustered his meruayles to mo þan to me.
Mi souerayne lorde, yone sauterell he sais,
He schall caste doune oure tempill, noȝt for to layne,
And dresse it vppe dewly with-in thre daies,
Als wele as it was, full goodely agayne.
12.
Anna.Ȝa, sir, and on oure awne sabott day,
Þanne werkis he werkis full wele.
Pilat.
We! fye on hym, faitour, for ay!
For þei are darke dedis of þe deuyll.
Kayph.
Sir, a noysomemare note newly is noysed,
Þat greuis me more þan any-kynne thyng,
He claymes hym clerly till a kyngdome of Jewes,
And callis hym selffe oure comeliest kyng.
13.
Pilat.Kyng! in þe deuyllis name, we! fye on hym, dastard!
What! wenys þat woode warlowe ouere-wyn vs þus lightly?
A begger of Bedlem, borne as a bastard,
Nowe by Lucifer lath I þat ladde, I leue hym not lightly.
Anna.
Sir, þe harlotte is at Heroudes hall, euyn her at your hande.
Pilat.
I sente to þat warlowe, þe deuyll myght hym wery.
Kaiph.
It langis to youre lordschippe, be lawe of þis land,
As souerayne youre selffe, to sitte of enquery.
14.
Anna.Sir, þe traitoure has tolde vs mo trufullis truly,
Wolde tene you full tyte, and we you þam tolde:
311
Nowe, be Beliall bonis, þat boy schall abie,
And bring on his bak a burdeyne of golde.
i Filius.
Mi lorde þat is ledar of lawis of þis lande,
Ȝe sente hym youre selfe to Herowde þe kyng,
And sais, ‘Þe dome of þat doge lies holy in your hande
To deme hym or lose hym, at youre likyng.’
Ȝe sente hym youre selfe to Herowde þe kyng,
And sais, ‘Þe dome of þat doge lies holy in your hande
To deme hym or lose hym, at youre likyng.’
15.
And þus ȝe comaunded youre knyghtis for to saie,
‘For sir Heroude will serche hym full sore,
So þat he wende with no wilis away,’
And þerfore, my goode lorde, moue you nomore.
‘For sir Heroude will serche hym full sore,
So þat he wende with no wilis away,’
And þerfore, my goode lorde, moue you nomore.
Kaiph.
Nowe certis, þis was wele saide,/But sir, will ȝe sese nowe, and we schall se syne.
Pilat.
Sir Kayphas and Anna, right so nowe I thynke,
Sittis in mahoundis blissing, and aske vs þe wyne.
Ȝe knyghtis of my courte, comaundis vs to drynke.
[They drink. Enter Judas, speaking to himself.
16.
Judas.
Allas! for woo þat I was wrought
Or euere I come be kynde or kynne,
I banne þe bonys þat me furth brought,
Woo worthe þe wombe þat I bredde ynne,
So may I bidde.
For I so falsely did to hym
Þat vnto me grete kyndnesse kidde.
Or euere I come be kynde or kynne,
I banne þe bonys þat me furth brought,
Woo worthe þe wombe þat I bredde ynne,
So may I bidde.
For I so falsely did to hym
Þat vnto me grete kyndnesse kidde.
17.
Þe purse with his spens aboute I bare,
Þer was none trowed so wele as I,
Of me he triste no man mare,
And I be-trayed hym traytourly
With a false trayne,
Sakles I solde his blessid body,
Vnto Jues for to be slayne.
Þer was none trowed so wele as I,
Of me he triste no man mare,
And I be-trayed hym traytourly
With a false trayne,
Sakles I solde his blessid body,
Vnto Jues for to be slayne.
18.
To slaa my souereyne assente I,
And tolde þem þe tyme of his takyng,
Shamously my selfe þus schente I
So sone for to sente to his slayng.
Nowe wiste I howe he myght passe þat payne,
To loke howe beste þat bote myght be
Vnto þe Jues I will agayne,
To saue hym he myght passe free,
Þis ware my will.
[Advances towards Pilate.
And tolde þem þe tyme of his takyng,
312
So sone for to sente to his slayng.
Nowe wiste I howe he myght passe þat payne,
To loke howe beste þat bote myght be
Vnto þe Jues I will agayne,
To saue hym he myght passe free,
Þis ware my will.
Lorde, welthe and worschippe mot with yow be!
Pilat.
What tythandis, Judas, tellis þou vs till?
19.
Judas.My tydyngis are tenefull, I telle ȝou,
Sir Pilate, þerfore I you praye,
My maistir þat I gune selle ȝou,
Gode lorde, late hym wende on his way.
Kaiph.
Nay, nedelyngis, Judas, þat we denye,
What mynde or mater has moued þe þus?
Judas.
Sir, I haue synned full greuously,
Betraied þat right-wisse bloode, Jesus
And maistir myne.
Kaiph.
Bewscher, what is þat till vs,
Þe perill and þe plight is thyne.
Þe perill and þe plight is thyne.
20.
Thyne is þe wronge, þou wroughte it,
Þou hight vs full trewlye to take hym,
And oures is þe bargayne, we boughte [it],
Loo! we are alle sente for to slee hym.
Þou hight vs full trewlye to take hym,
And oures is þe bargayne, we boughte [it],
Loo! we are alle sente for to slee hym.
Judas.
Allas! þat may me rewe full ill,
Giffe ȝe assente hym for to slaa.
Pilat.
Why, what wolde þou þat we did þer-till?
Judas.
I praie you goode lorde, late hym gaa,
And here is of me youre paymente [playne].
Kayph.
Naie, we will noght so,
We bought hym for he schulde be slayne;
We bought hym for he schulde be slayne;
313
21.
To slee hym þi selffe þou assente it.
Þis wate þou wondirly wele,
What right is nowe to repente [it],
Þou schapist þi selffe vn-seele.
Þis wate þou wondirly wele,
What right is nowe to repente [it],
Þou schapist þi selffe vn-seele.
Anna.
Do waie, Judas, þou dose for noght.
Thy wordis I warne þe are in waste.
Thy selffe to selle hym whanne þou vs sought,
Þou was agaynste hym þanne þe moste,
Of vs ilkan.
Kayph.
We schall be venged on hym in haste,
Whedir þat euere he will or none.
22.
Pilat.Þer wordis þat þou nenys noght nedis it,
Þou on-hanged harlott, hark what I saie,
Spare of thy spekyng, noght spedis it,
Or walke oute at þe dore, in þe deuill way.
Judas.
Why will ye þanne noȝt latte hym passe,
And haue of me agayne youre paie?
Pilat.
I telle þe, traytoure, I wille it noght.
Judas.
Allas! þanne am I lorne [this day]
Boþe bone and bloode,
Allas þe while! so may I saie,
That euere I sente to spille his bloode.
Boþe bone and bloode,
Allas þe while! so may I saie,
That euere I sente to spille his bloode.
23.
To saue his bloode, sirs, I saie you,
And takes you þare youre payment hole,
Spare for to spille hym, I praye youe,
Ellis brewe ȝe me full mekill bale.
And takes you þare youre payment hole,
Spare for to spille hym, I praye youe,
Ellis brewe ȝe me full mekill bale.
Pilat.
Nay, heriste þou, Judas, þou schall agayne,
We will it nouȝt, what deuyll art þou?
When þou vs sought þou was full fayne
Of þis money; what aylis þe nowe
For to repente?
Judas.
Agayne, sirs, here, I giffe it you,
And saue hym þat he be noȝt schent.
24.
Pilat.To schende hym thy-selfe has þe schamed,
Þou may lathe with þi liffe þat þou ledis,
314
Therfore þe deuyll þe droune for thy darfe dedis.
Judas.
I knawe my trespasse and my gilte,
It is so grete, it garres me grise,
Me is full woo he schulde be spilte;
Might I hym saue of any wise,
Wele were me þan
Saue hym, sirs, to youre seruise
I will me bynde to be your man.
It is so grete, it garres me grise,
Me is full woo he schulde be spilte;
Might I hym saue of any wise,
Wele were me þan
Saue hym, sirs, to youre seruise
I will me bynde to be your man.
25.
Youre bonde-man, lorde, to be
Nowe euere will I bynde me,
Sir Pilate, ye may trowe me,
Full faithfull schall ȝe fynde me.
Nowe euere will I bynde me,
Sir Pilate, ye may trowe me,
Full faithfull schall ȝe fynde me.
Pilat.
Fynde þe faithfull? a! foule mot þe falle!
Or þou come in oure companye,
For by mahoundes bloode, þou wolde selle vs all,
Thi seruice will we noght for-thy
Þou art unknowen
Fals tiraunte, for þi traitoury
Þu art wo[r]þi to be hanged & drawen.
Or þou come in oure companye,
For by mahoundes bloode, þou wolde selle vs all,
Thi seruice will we noght for-thy
Þou art unknowen
Fals tiraunte, for þi traitoury
Þu art wo[r]þi to be hanged & drawen.
26.
Hanged and drawen schulde þou be, knave,
And þou had right, by all goode reasoune,
Thi maistirs bloode þou biddist vs saue,
And þou was firste þat did him treasoune.
And þou had right, by all goode reasoune,
Thi maistirs bloode þou biddist vs saue,
And þou was firste þat did him treasoune.
Judas.
I cry ȝou mercy, lorde, on me rewe,
Þis werryd wight þat wronge has wrought,
Haue mercy on my maistir trewe,
Þat I haue in youre bandome brought.
[I cry ȝou sore].
Pilat.
Goo, jape þe, Judas, and neuen it noght,
Nor move vs of þis matere more.
27.
Anna.No more of þis matere þou move þe,
Þou momeland mytyng emell,
315
Of felonye falsely and felle.
Kaiph.
He grucchis noȝt to graunte his gilte,
Why schonnys þou noȝt to schewe þi schame?
We bought hym for he schulde be spilte,
All same we were consente to þe same,
And þi selffe als;
Þou feyned noȝt for to defame,
Þou saide he was a traytoure fals.
28.
Pilat.Ȝaa, and for a false faitoure,
Thy selffe full fully gon selle hym,
O! þat was a trante of a traytour,
So sone þou schulde goo to begile hym.
i Miles.
What, wolde þou þat we lete hym ga?
Yon weried wight, þat wrought such wronge,
We will not lose oure bargayne swaa,
So lightely for to late hym gang;
And reson why
Latte we þat lotterell liffe ought long,
It will be fonde, in faith, foly.
29.
ii Miles.Yone folte for no foole schall he fynde vs,
We wotte all full wele howe it was,
His maistir whanne he gune bringe vs,
He praied yow my goode lord late hym not passe.
Pilat.
Nay, sertis, he schalle noȝt passe free.
Þat we for oure mony has paied.
Judas.
Take it a-gayne þat ȝe toke me,
And saue hym fro þat bittir braide,
Þan were I fayne.
Anna.
Itt serues of noght þat þou has saide,
And therfore takis it tyte agayne.
30.
Pilat.Tyte agayne, traytoure, þou take it,
We wille it noght welde with-in oure wolde,
Ȝitt schalte þou noȝt, sawterell, þu sune for-sake it,
For I schall sers hym my selffe sen þou has hym solde.
316
For-sake it in faith, þat he ne schall,
For we will halde hym þat we haue,
The payment chenys þe with-all,
The thar no nodir comenaunte craue.
[Nor mercy none].
Judas.
Sen ȝe assente hym for to slaa,
Vengeaunce I crie on you ilkone!
Vengeaunce I crie on you ilkone!
31.
Ilkane I crie, þe deuill for-do youe!
And þat myghte I both here and see,
Herde heuenyng here I wn-to youe.
For sorowe on-sought ye on me se.
And þat myghte I both here and see,
Herde heuenyng here I wn-to youe.
For sorowe on-sought ye on me se.
Kaiph.
Whe! fye on the, traytoure attaynte, at þis tyde;
Of treasoune þou tyxste hym, þat triste þe for trewe.
Do buske þe henne, brothell, no lenger þou abide,
For if þou do, all þi respouns sare schall þe rewe.
Say wote þou noght who is I?
Nowe be my nociens, myght I negh nere þe,
In certayne, ladde, yitt schulde I lere þe
To lordis to speke curtaisely.
Pilat.
Go thy gatis, geddlyng, and greue vs no more,
Leffe of þi talke, þe deuill mot þe hange.
Judas.
Þat att ȝe toke me, take it you þere,
Ther with youre maistrie make yowe emange,
And clayme it you clene,
Me lathes with my liff, so liffe I to lang.
My traitourfull torne he turment my tene.
Ther with youre maistrie make yowe emange,
And clayme it you clene,
Me lathes with my liff, so liffe I to lang.
My traitourfull torne he turment my tene.
32.
Sen for my treasoune haue I tane vnto me,
Me thare aske no mercy, for none mon y gete,
Ther-fore in haste my-selffe schall for-do me,
Allas! þe harde while þat euere ete I meete.
Thus schall I marke my mytyng meede,
And wirke me wreke with harte and will,
To spille my selffe nowe wille I spede,
For sadly haue I seruyd þer-till;
So wala way!
Þat euere I was in witte or wille,
Þat tristy trewe for to be-traye.
Me thare aske no mercy, for none mon y gete,
Ther-fore in haste my-selffe schall for-do me,
Allas! þe harde while þat euere ete I meete.
Thus schall I marke my mytyng meede,
And wirke me wreke with harte and will,
317
For sadly haue I seruyd þer-till;
So wala way!
Þat euere I was in witte or wille,
Þat tristy trewe for to be-traye.
33.
Allas! who may I meue to?
Shall I me take non othir reede,
Mi-selffe in haste I schall for-doo,
And take me nowe vn-to my dede.
[Exit Judas.]
Shall I me take non othir reede,
Mi-selffe in haste I schall for-doo,
And take me nowe vn-to my dede.
Kaiph.
Haue done nowe, Sir Pilate, late se what ȝe saie,
As touchyng þis money þat we here haue,
Þat Judas in a wreth has wauyd away,
And keste vs crabbidly, þat cursed knave.
Howe saie ȝe þer-by?
Anna.
Sir, sen he it slang, we schall it saue.
Kaiph.
Tite truste it tille oure tresorie.
34.
Pilat.Nay sir, noght soo.
Kaiph.
Why sir, how þan?
Pilat.
Sir, it schall not combre vs,
Nor come in oure Corbonan.
Kaiph.
No, tille oure tresory certayne/Farther schall it nought.
And se youre selffe soth certayne and skill
It is price of þe bloode þat we with it boght,
Therfore some othir poynte I purpose it till.
And þus I deuyse;
[Pilat.]
A spotte of erthe for to by, wayte nowe I will,
To berie in pilgrimes þat by þe wey dies.
To berie in pilgrimes þat by þe wey dies.
35.
Pilgrimes and palmeres to putte þere,
Sir Kaiphas and Anna, assente ȝe þerto?
And oþere false felons þat we for-fare.
Sir Kaiphas and Anna, assente ȝe þerto?
And oþere false felons þat we for-fare.
Anna.
As ȝe deme, lorde, so wille we doo.
[Enter an Esquire.
318
Hayle! Sir Pilate, perles and prince of þis empire,
Haile! þe gaiest on grounde, in golde þer ȝe glide,
Haile! þe louffeliest lorde of lyme and of lyre,
And all þe soferans semely þat sittith þe beside.
Pilat.
What wolde þou?
Armig.
A worde, lorde, and wende.
Pilat.
Nowe þou arte welcome i-wisse.
36.
But delyuere þe lightly with-outen any lette,
We haue no tome all day to tente on-to þe.
We haue no tome all day to tente on-to þe.
Armig.
A place here beside lorde, wolde I wedde-sette.
Pilat.
What title has þou þer-to? is it þyne awne free?
Armig.
Lorde, fre be my fredome me fallis it.
Þis tale is full trewe þat I telle ȝou,
And Caluary locus men callis it,
I wolle it wedde-sette, but not for to selle ȝou.
37.
Pilat.What wolde þou borowe, bewshire, be-lyve, late me se?
Armig.
If it ware youre lekyng, my lorde, for to lene it,
xxx pens I wolde ȝe lente on-to me.
Kayph.
Yis, bewshire, þat schall þou haue.
Pilat.
Shewe vs thi dedis and haue here þi mony.
Armig.
Haue her, gode lord, but loke ȝe þame saue.
[Gives the deeds.
38.
Pilat.Ȝis, certis, we schall saue þame full soundely,
And ellis do we noght dewly oure deuere.
Faste, freke, for thy faith, on thy fote fonde þe!
For fro þis place, bewschere, I soile þe for euere.
Armig.
Now sorowe on such socoure as I haue soght,
For all my tresoure thurgh tresoune I tyne;
For all my tresoure thurgh tresoune I tyne;
39.
I tyne it vn-trewly by tresoune,
Þer-fore nowe my way will I wende;
For ȝe do me no right nor no resoune,
I be-take you all to þe fende!
Þer-fore nowe my way will I wende;
319
I be-take you all to þe fende!
[Exit Esquire.
Pilat.
Nowe certis, we are serued att all,
Þis place is purchesed full propirly,
The felde of bloode loke ȝe it call,
I you comaunde ilkone for-thy.
40.
Kaiph.Sir, as ȝe comaunde vs, call it schall we soo,
But my lorde, with youre leue, we may lende her no lengar,
But faste late vs founde to fang on oure foo,
Ȝone gedlyng on-godly has brewed vs grete angir.
Anna.
Do way, Sir busshoppe, and be not a-baste,
For loste is all oure lekyng, lepe he so light.
Kaiph.
Nay, Sir, he schall not trusse so tite, and þat be ȝe traste,
For it wynnes vs no worschippe, þe werkis of yone wight,
But grete angir.
For-thy late vs dresse vs his deth for to dite,
And late we þis lotterell leue her no lengar.
41.
Pilat.Sir Kayphas, thurgh counsaile comaunde we our knyghtis,
To wacche on yone warlowe/What way þat he wendis,
Do dresse ȝou nowe dewly,/To yone doderon ȝou dightis,
And lette noȝt to laite hym/In lande where he lendis,
Nor leuys hym noȝt lightly.
ii Miles.
In faith we schall fette hym/Full farre fro his frendis.
Pilat.
Nowe walkis on in þe wanyand,
And wende youre way wightely.
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