University of Virginia Library

[Scene II]

Calvary.
Jesus.
Þou man þat of mys here has mente,
To me tente enteerly þou take,
On roode am I ragged and rente,
Þou synfull sawle, for thy sake,
For thy misse amendis wille I make.
My bakke for to bende here I bide,
Þis teene for thi trespase I take,
Who couthe þe more kyndynes haue kydde
than I?
Þus for thy goode
I schedde my bloode,
Manne, mende thy moode,
For full bittir þi blisse mon I by.

Ma.
Allas! for my swete sonne I saie,
Þat doulfully to dede þus is diȝt,
Allas! for full louely þou laye
In my wombe, þis worthely wight.
Allas! þat I schulde see þis sight
Of my sone so semely to see,
Allas! þat þis blossome so bright
Vntrewly is tugged to þis tree,
Allas!
My lorde, my leyffe,
With full grete greffe,
Hyngis as a theffe,
Allas! he did neuer trespasse.

Jesus.
Þou woman, do way of thy wepyng,
For me may þou no thyng amende,
My fadirs wille to be wirkyng,
For mankynde my body I bende.

Ma.
Allas! þat þou likes noght to lende,
Howe schulde I but wepe for thy woo!
To care nowe my comforte is kende,
Allas! why schulde we twynne þus in twoo
For euere?

Jesus.
Womanne, in stede of me,
Loo John þi sone schall bee.
John, see to þi modir free,
For my sake do þou þi deuere.

Ma.
Allas! sone, sorowe and siȝte,
Þat me were closed in clay,
A swerde of sorowe me smyte,
To dede I were done þis day.

Joh.
A! modir, so schall ȝe noght saie,
I praye youe be pees in þis presse,
For with all þe myght þat I maye,
Youre comforte I caste to encresse
In dede.
Youre sone am I,
Loo, here redy,
And nowe for-thy
I praye yowe hense for to speede.

Ma.
My steuen for to stede or to steere,
Howe schulde I such sorowe to see,
My sone þat is dereworthy and dere,
Thus doulfull a dede for to dye.

Joh.
A! dere modir, blynne of þis blee,
Youre mournyng it may not amende.

Ma. Cleo.
A! Marie, take triste vn-to þe,
For socoure to þe will he sende
Þis tyde.

Joh.
Fayre modir, faste
Hense latte vs caste.

Ma.
To he be paste,
Wille I buske here baynly to bide.

Jesus.
With bittirfull bale haue I bought,
Þus, man, all þi misse for to mende,
On me for to looke lette þou noȝt,
Howe baynly my body I bende.
No wighte in þis worlde wolde haue wende,
What sorowe I suffre for thy sake,
Manne, kaste þe thy kyndynesse be kende,
Trewe tente vn-to me þat þou take,
And treste.
For foxis þer dennys haue þei,
Birdis hase ther nestis to paye,
But þe sone of man this daye,
Hase noȝt on his heed for to reste.

Lat. a sin.
If þou be Goddis sone so free,
Why hyng þou þus on þis hille?
To saffe nowe þi selffe late vs see,
And vs now, þat spedis for to spille.

Lat. a dex.
Manne, stynte of thy steuen and be stille,
For douteles thy God dredis þou noȝt,
Full wele are we worthy ther-till,
Vnwisely wrange haue we wrought
i-wisse.
Noon ille did hee,
Þus for to dye;
Lord! haue mynde of me
What þou art come to þi blisse.

Jesus.
For sothe, sonne, to þe schall I saie,
Sen þou fro thy foly will falle,
With me schall dwelle nowe þis daye,
In paradise place principall.
Heloy! heloy!
My God, my God, full free,
Lamaȝabatanye,
Whar-to for-soke þou me,
In care?
And I did neuere ille
Þis dede for to go tille,
But be it at þi wille.
A! me thristis sare.

Gar.
A drinke schalle I dresse þe in dede,
A draughte þat is full dayntely dight,
Full faste schall I springe for to spede,
I hope I schall holde þat I haue hight.

Caip.
Sir Pilate, þat moste is of myght,
Harke! Heely! now harde I hym crye,
He wenys þat þat worthely wight
In haste for to helpe hym in hye
In his nede.

Pil.
If he do soo,
He schall haue woo.

An.
He wer oure foo,
If he dresse hym to do vs þat dede.

Gar.
Þat dede for to dresse yf he doo,
In sertis he schall rewe it full sore;
Neuere þe lees if he like it noght, loo,
Full sone may he couere þat care.
Nowe swete sir, youre wille yf it ware,
A draughte here of drinke haue I dreste,
To spede for no spence þat ȝe spare,
But baldely ye bib it for þe beste
For-why;
Aysell and galle
Is menged with alle,
Drynke it ȝe schalle,
Youre lippis, I halde þame full drye.

Jesus.
Þi drinke it schalle do me no deere,
Wete þou wele þer-of will I none.
Nowe, fadir, þat formed alle in fere,
To thy moste myght make I my mone.
Þi wille haue I wrought in þis wone,
Þus ragged and rente on þis roode,
Þus doulffully to dede haue þei done,
For-giffe þame be grace þat is goode,
Þai ne wote noȝt what it was,
My fadir, here my bone,
For nowe all thyng is done,
My spirite to þee right sone
Comende I in manus tuas.

[Jesus dies.]
Mar.
Now dere sone, Jesus so iente,
Sen my harte is heuy as leede,
O worde wolde I witte or þou wente;
Allas! nowe my dere sone is dede.
Full rewfully refte is my rede,
Allas! for my darlyng so dere.

Joh.
A modir, ȝe halde vppe youre heede,
And sigh noȝt with sorowes so seere,
I praye.

Ma. Cleo.
It dose hir pyne
To see hym tyne,
Lede we her heyne,
Þis mornyng helpe hir ne maye.

[Exit John and the two Maries.
Caip.
Sir Pilate, parceyue I you praye,
Oure costemes to kepe wele ȝe canne,
To-morne is our dere sabott daye,
Of mirthe muste vs meve ilke a mane.
Ȝone warlous nowe waxis full wane,
And nedis muste þei beried be,
Deluyer þer dede sir, and þane
Shall we sewe to oure saide solempnite
In dede.

Pil.

Mil.
Mi lorde I schall lenghe so þer liffe,
Þat þo brothelles schall neuere bite brede.

Pil.
Ser Longeus, steppe forthe in þis steede,
Þis spere, loo, haue halde in thy hande,
To Jesu þou rake fourthe I rede,
And sted nouȝt but stiffely þou stande
A stounde.
In Jesu side
Schoffe it þis tyde,
No lenger bide,
But grathely þou go to þe grounde.

[Longeus pierces Jesus' side.
Long. lat.
O! maker vnmade, full of myght,
O! Jesu so jentile and jente,
Þat sodenly has lente me my sight,
Lorde! louyng to þe be it lente.
On rode arte þou ragged and rente,
Mankynde for to mende of his mys,
Full spitously spilte is and spente,
Thi bloode lorde to bringe vs to blis
full free.
A! mercy my socoure,
Mercy my treasoure,
Mercy my sauioure,
Þi mercy be markid in me.

Cent.
O! wondirfull werkar i-wis,
Þis weedir is waxen full wan,
Trewe token I trowe þat it is
Þat mercy is mente vnto man.
Full clerly consayue þus I can,
No cause in this corse couthe þei knowe,
Ȝitt doulfull þei demyd hym þan
To lose þus his liffe be þer lawe,
No riȝte.
Trewly I saie,
Goddis sone verraye,
Was he þis daye,
Þat doulfully to dede þus is diȝt.

[Enter Joseph.
Jos.
Þat lorde lele ay lastyng in lande,
Sir Pilate, full preste in þis presse,
He saue þe be see and be sande,
And all þat is derworth on deesse.

Pil.
Joseph þis is, lely no lesse,
To me arte þou welcome i-wisse,
Do saie me þe soth or þou sesse,
Thy worthyly wille what it is
Anone.

Jos.
To þe I praye,
Giffe me in hye
Jesu bodye,
In gree it for to graue al alone.

Pil.
Joseph sir, I graunte þe þat geste,
I grucche noȝt to grath hym in grave,
Delyuer, haue done he were dreste,
And sewe, sir, oure sabott to saffe.

Jos.
With handis and harte þat I haue,
I thanke þe in faith for my frende,
God kepe þe þi comforte to craue,
For wightely my way will I wende
In hye.
To do þat dede
He be my speede,
Þat armys gun sprede,
Manne kynde be his bloode for to bye.

[Enter Nichodemus.
Nicho.
Weill mette, sir, in mynde gune [I] meffe
For Jesu, þat juged was vn-jente,
Ye laboured for license and leve,
To berye his body on bente.

Jos.
Full myldely þat matere I mente,
And þat for to do will I dresse.

Nicho.
Both same I wolde þat wente
And lette not for more ne for lesse,
For-why
Oure frende was he,
Faithfull and free.

Jos.
[They go to the cross.

Nicho.
He was a full worthy wight,
Nowe blemysght and bolned with bloode.

Jos.
Ȝa, for þat he maistered his myght,
Full falsely þei fellid þat foode
I wene,
Bothe bakke and side,
His woundes wide;
For-þi þis tyde
Take we hym doune vs be-twene.

Nicho.
Be-twene vs take we hym doune,
And laie hym on lenthe on þis lande.

Jos.
Þis reuerent and riche of rennoune,
Late vs halde hym and halse hym with hande.
A graue haue I garte here be ordande,
Þat neuer was in noote, it is newe.

Nicho.
To þis corse it is comely accordande,
To dresse hym with dedis full dewe
Þis stounde.

Jos.
A sudarye
Loo here haue I,
Wynde hym for-thy,
And sone schalle we graue hym in grounde.

Nicho.
In grounde late vs graue hym and goo,
Do liffely, latte vs laie hym allone;
Nowe sauiour of me and of moo
Þou kepe vs in clennesse ilkone.

Jos.
[Prays].
To thy mercy nowe make I my moone,
As sauiour be see and be sande,
Þou gyde me þat my griffe be al gone,
With lele liffe to lenge in þis lande,
And esse.

Nicho.
Seere oynementis here haue I
Brought for þis faire body;
I anoynte þe for-thy
With myrre and aloes.

Jos.
Þis dede it is done ilke a dele,
And wroughte is þis werke wele i-wis.
To þe kyng on knes here I knele,
Þat baynly þou belde me in blisse.

Nicho.
He highte me full hendely to be his
A nyght whan I neghed hym full nere;
Haue mynde lorde and mende me of mys,
For done is oure dedis full dere
Þis tyde.

Jos.
þis lorde so goode,
Þat schedde his bloode,
He mende youre moode,
And buske on þis blis for to bide.