 | The Bocheres |  |
[Scene I]
The way before the hill of Calvary.
1.
Pil.
Sees, Seniours, and see what I saie,
Takis tente to my talkyng enteere,
Devoyde all þis dynne here þis day,
And fallis to my frenschippe in feere.
Sir Pilate, a Prince with-owten pere,
My name is full neuenly to neuen,
And domisman full derworth in dere,
Of gentillest Jewry full euen
Am I.
Who makis oppressioun,
Or dose transgressioun,
Be my discressioun,
Shall be demed dewly to dye.
Takis tente to my talkyng enteere,
Devoyde all þis dynne here þis day,
And fallis to my frenschippe in feere.
Sir Pilate, a Prince with-owten pere,
My name is full neuenly to neuen,
And domisman full derworth in dere,
Of gentillest Jewry full euen
Am I.
Who makis oppressioun,
Or dose transgressioun,
Be my discressioun,
Shall be demed dewly to dye.
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2.
To dye schall I deme þame to dede,
Þo rebelles þat rewles þame vn-right,
Who þat to ȝone hill wille take heede,
May se þer þe soth in his sight,
Howe doulful to dede þei are dight
That liste noȝt owre lawes for to lere,
Lo þus be my mayne and my myght,
Tho churles schalle I chasteise and cheere,
Be lawe.
Ilke feloune false,
Shall hynge be þe halse,
Transgressours als,
On the crosse schalle be knytte for to knawe.
Þo rebelles þat rewles þame vn-right,
Who þat to ȝone hill wille take heede,
May se þer þe soth in his sight,
Howe doulful to dede þei are dight
That liste noȝt owre lawes for to lere,
Lo þus be my mayne and my myght,
Tho churles schalle I chasteise and cheere,
Be lawe.
Ilke feloune false,
Shall hynge be þe halse,
Transgressours als,
On the crosse schalle be knytte for to knawe.
3.
To knawe schall I kyntte þame on crosse,
To schende þame with schame schall I shappe,
Ther liffis for to leese is no losse,
Suche tirrauntis with teene for to trappe.
Þus leelly þe lawe I vnlappe,
And punyssh þame pitously,
Of Jesu I holde it vnhappe,
Þat he on yone hill hyng so hye,
For gilte.
His bloode to spille,
Toke ye you till
Þus was youre wille
Full spitously to spede he were spilte.
To schende þame with schame schall I shappe,
Ther liffis for to leese is no losse,
Suche tirrauntis with teene for to trappe.
Þus leelly þe lawe I vnlappe,
And punyssh þame pitously,
Of Jesu I holde it vnhappe,
Þat he on yone hill hyng so hye,
For gilte.
His bloode to spille,
Toke ye you till
Þus was youre wille
Full spitously to spede he were spilte.
4.
Caip.To spille hym we spake in a speede,
For falsed he folowde in faie,
With fraudes oure folke gan he feede,
And laboured to lere þame his laye.
An.
Sir Pilate, of pees we youe praye,
Oure lawe was full lyke to be lorne,
He saued noȝt oure dere Sabott daye,
And þat for to scape it were a scorne,
By lawe.
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Sirs, be-fore youre sight,
With all my myght,
I examynde hym right,
And cause non in hym cowthe I knawe.
5.
Cay.Ȝe knawe wele þe cause sir in cace,
It touched treasoune vntrewe,
Þe tribute to take or to trace
For-badde he, oure bale for to brewe.
Anna.
Of japes ȝitt jangelid yone Jewe,
And cursedly he called hym a kyng,
To deme hym to dede it is diewe,
For treasoune it touches þat thyng,
In dede.
Caip.
Ȝitt principall
And worste of all,
He garte hym call
Goddes sonne, þat foulle motte hyme speede!
6.
Pil.He spedis for to spille in space,
So wondirly wrought is youre will,
His bloode schall youre bodis enbrace,
For þat haue ȝe taken you till.
Anna.
Þat forwarde fulfayne to fulfille,
In dede schall we dresse vs be-dene,
Ȝone losell hym likis full ille,
For turned is his trantis all to teene,
I trowe.
Cay.
He called hym kyng,
Ille joie hym wring!
ȝa, late hym hyng,
Full madly on þe mone for to mowe.
7.
An.To mowe on þe moone has he mente,
We! fye on þe, faitour in faye,
Who trowes þou, to þi tales toke tente.
Þou saggard, þi selffe gan þou saie,
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Be þe thirde day ware done ilk-a-dele,
To rayse it þou schulde þe arraye.
Loo! howe was þi falsed to feele,
Foule falle þe!
For thy presumpcyoune
Þou haste thy warisoune,
Do faste, come doune,
And a comely kyng schalle I calle þee.
8.
Cay.I calle þe a coward to kenne,
Þat meruaylles and mirakills made,
Þou mustered emange many menne,
But, brothell, þou bourded to brede.
Þou saued þame fro sorowes þai saide,
To saue nowe þi selffe late vs see,
God sonne if þou grathely be grayde,
Delyuere þe doune of þat tree
Anone,
If þou be funne
Þou be Goddis sonne,
We schall be bonne
To trowe on þe trewlye, ilkone.
9.
An.Sir Pilate, youre pleasaun[c]e we praye,
Takis tente to oure talkyng þis tide,
And wipe ȝe yone writyng away,
It is not beste it abide.
It sittis youe to sette it aside,
And sette þat he saide in his sawe,
As he þat was prente full of pride,
‘Jewes kyng am I,’ comely to knawe,
Full playne.
Pil.
Quod scripci, scripci,
Ȝone same wrotte I
I bide þer-by,
What gedlyng will grucche there agayne.
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