LUDUS COVENTRIÆ.

A Collection of Mysteries,
FORMERLY REPRESENTED AT COVENTRY
ON THE
FEAST OF CORPUS CHRISTI.

EDITED BY
JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, ESQ. F.R.S.
HON. M.R.I.A., F.S.A., F.R.A.S., &c.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR THE SHAKESPEARE SOCIETY.
1841.

LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN., 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET,
PRINTER TO H. R. H. PRINCE ALBERT.

COUNCIL
OF
THE SHAKESPEARE SOCIETY.

President.

• THE MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS OF NORMANDY.

Vice-Presidents.

• RT. HON. LORD BRAYBROOKE, F.S.A.
• RT. HON. LORD F. EGERTON, M.P.
• RT. HON. THE EARL OF GLENGALL.
• RT. HON. LORD LEIGH.

• AMYOT, THOMAS, ESQ., F.R.S., TREAS. S.A.
• AYRTON, WILLIAM, ESQ., F.R.S., F.S.A.
• BRUCE, JOHN, ESQ., F.S.A.
• CAMPBELL, THOMAS, ESQ.
• COLLIER, J. PAYNE, ESQ., F.S.A., DIRECTOR.
• COURTENAY, RT. HON. THOMAS P.
• CRAIK, GEORGE L., ESQ.
• DILKE, C. W., ESQ., TREASURER.
• DYCE, REV. ALEXANDER.
• HALLIWELL, J. O., ESQ., F.R.S. F.S.A., &c.
• HARNESS, REV. WILLIAM.
• JERROLD, DOUGLAS, ESQ.
• KENNEY, JAMES, ESQ.
• KNIGHT, CHARLES, ESQ.
• MACREADY, WILLIAM C., ESQ.
• MADDEN, SIR F., F.R.S., F.S.A., KEEPER OF THE MSS. IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
• MILMAN, REV. HENRY HART.
• TALFOURD, MR. SERGEANT, M.P.
• TOMLINS, F. GUEST, ESQ., SECRETARY.
• WRIGHT, THOMAS, ESQ., F.S.A.
• YOUNG, CHARLES M., ESQ.

INTRODUCTION.

Three complete collections of ancient English mysteries have descended to modern times, or rather are now known to be preserved, which are generally distinguished by the titles of the Chester, the Townley, and the Coventry Mysteries; and, with the exception of a few detached pieces of far inferior importance, we derive nearly all our actual knowledge of the early English drama from these series of plays, which have been long known to every one interested in this class of literary pursuits, as some of the most curious and valuable relics of bygone times; not merely as important records of our early stage, but also as illustrating, in a very interesting manner, the customs, language, and manners of the periods to which they belong. The only one of these series (which is, perhaps, the most important of all), that has yet been printed, is the Townley, which was published by the Surtees Society, with a very interesting and learned preface by Mr. Hunter. The Coventry is contained in the following volume; and the Chester, so ably commented upon by Mr. Markland, a gentleman to whom belongs the distinction of being the first in recent times to direct public attention to these researches, has already been under the consideration of the Council of the Society under whose auspices the present volume is produced.[1]

Mr. Collier, in the second volume of his excellent History of English Dramatic Poetry, has carefully analyzed the Coventry Mysteries, with occasional notices of resemblances or dissimilarities in the method in which the same subjects are treated in the other collections. It will, therefore, be unnecessary for me in this place to enter on the general question of the chain in the evidence of dramatic history which these mysteries afford.

The Coventry Mysteries are contained in a quarto volume, the principal part of which was written in the year 1468, now preserved in the Cottonian collection of manuscripts, under the press-mark Vespas. D. viii. The date of the MS. is ascertained from the verso of fol. 100, a fac-simile of which page will be found at the commencement of this work. The history of the manuscript is unfortunately wrapped in obscurity, and it cannot be distinctly traced back to those who are presumed to have been its former possessors—the Grey Friars of Coventry. The principal authority for its appropriation to this body is contained in the following memorandum on the fly-leaf of the manuscript in the hand-writing of Dr. Richard James, librarian to Sir Robert Cotton:—“Contenta Novi Testamenti scenice expressa et actitata olim per monachos sive fratres mendicantes: vulgo dicitur hic liber Ludus Coventriæ, sive Ludus Corporis Christi: scribitur metris Anglicanis.” The MS. was previously in the possession of Robert Hegge of Christ Church, Oxford, who died in 1629,[2] and was, most probably, purchased by James about that time for Cotton, as it appears from a letter in the same library[3] that James was engaged about that period at Oxford in procuring manuscripts for his patron.

James, in his MS. collections in the Bodleian, does not notice the MS. of the Ludus Coventriæ, and I have been unsuccessful in endeavouring to trace either the destination of Hegge’s library, or the authority for James’s assertion that this volume was commonly (vulgo dicitur) known under the above title.[4] That it was so, there cannot, I imagine, be the slightest doubt, for what object could James—a man who was, most probably, uninterested about the subject of the manuscript, and inserted the account above given as Cotton’s librarian, according to his usual custom—have had in making a misrepresentation? It must be remembered, also, that the last leaf, or, perhaps, the last few leaves, are now deficient, and there is no improbability in the conjecture that these may not have been lost when James wrote his description, and that a colophon supplied him with his information.

Robert Hegge has given us his autograph in two places, and in both added the cognomen of “Dunelmensis.” On this account, some writers have conjectured that the volume originally came from Durham; but this supposition is not supported by any evidence and very little probability. The principal mark of dialect which the Mysteries contain, viz., x for sh in such words as xal, xulde, &c., belong to that part of the country in which Coventry is situated.

If, then, we have not complete and absolute evidence that Ludus Coventriæ is the proper title of these Mysteries, yet the probabilities are greatly in favour of the correctness of this appellation, and no urgent reasons have been given for any different conclusion. By this name, at all events, the MS. has been known since the time of Dr. James, who died in 1639.

The external evidence is also greatly in favour of the claim of Coventry to these plays. Coventry was a place formerly famous for the performance of its Corpus Christi plays by the Grey Friars, in the same manner as Chester was for the performances of its trading companies. Mr. Sharp’s Dissertation on the Coventry Mysteries, 4to., Cov. 1816, contains a most curious and valuable collection of information[5] relative to the plays once performed there, and the manner in which the actors were dressed. In 1456, Queen Margaret was at Coventry, when she saw “alle the pagentes pleyde save domesday, which might not be pleyde for lak of day.” Even as late as 1575, “certain good harted men of Coventree” had the honour of performing before Queen Elizabeth in the celebrated entertainment at Kenilworth, and gained considerable applause.[6] And Heywood, in a passage which has been frequently quoted, alludes to the devil as a famous character in the old Coventry mysteries:—

“For as good happe wolde have it chaunce,

Thys devyll and I were of olde acqueyntaunce;

For oft, in the play of Corpus Christi,

He hath played the devyll at Coventry.”[7]

The Coventry Mysteries attracted the attention of the antiquary, Dugdale, at an early period, and he has given us the following curious and important account of them:—

“Before the suppression of the monasteries, this city was very famous for the pageants that were play’d therein, upon Corpus-Christi day; which occasioning very great confluence of people thither from far and near, was of no small benefit therto; which pageants being acted with mighty state and reverence by the friers of this house, had theaters for the severall scenes, very large and high, placed upon wheels, and drawn to all the eminent parts of the city, for the better advantage of spectators: and contain’d the story of the New-Testament, composed into old English Rithme, as appeareth by an ancient MS. [in bibl. Cotton. sub effigie Vesp. D. 9.] intituled Ludus Corporis Christi, or Ludus Coventriæ. I have been told by some old people, who in their younger years were eye-witnesses of these pageants so acted, that the yearly confluence of people to see that shew was extraordinary great, and yielded no small advantage to this city.”[8]—Dugdale’s Antiquities of Warwickshire, fol. Lond. 1656, p. 116, col. 1.

I scarcely think, however, that this notice of the MS. affords much evidence in favour of James’s title, except so far as it shows that Dugdale himself had no doubt whatever about its correctness. It will be observed that Dugdale does not give a right reference to the press-mark of the manuscript, and he had probably not examined the volume with much attention, or he could scarcely have omitted to notice the following passage at the end of the prologue, which has been adduced to prove that these mysteries were not exclusively[9] performed before the “gentyllys and ȝemanry” of Coventry:—

“A Sunday next, yf that we may,

At vj. of the belle we gynne oure play

In N. towne.”

“The letter N,” observes Mr. Collier,[10] “is placed for the nomen of the town, which was to be filled up as occasion required, by the person making the proclamation.” If the opinion I have formed of their locality be correct, I can account for this by supposing that the prologues of the vexillators belong to another series of plays, or that these mysteries were occasionally performed at other places. The summaries of the pageants, as given in the prologue, are often confusedly numbered; and it must be confessed that the conclusion would suit a company of strolling players much better than the venerable order of the Grey Friars. In the order of the pageants, I have not regarded the speeches of the vexillators; and the divisions in the MS. being very incorrectly given, I have endeavoured to make as correct an arrangement as possible, taking the two other series of mysteries as my guide.

At the commencement of the twenty-ninth pageant, Contemplatio, an allegorical personage, who acts as prologue-speaker, explains the events and moralises on occasion, but who is in no way concerned in the action, says—

“We intendyn to procede the matere that we lefte the last ȝere:”

which proves that the remainder of these pageants were not played the same year as the preceding twenty-eight mysteries.

In offering the first edition of the Coventry Mysteries to the members of the Shakespeare Society, I am anxious to state that I have endeavoured to give the reader as faithful a copy of the original manuscript as was possible, with all its errors and defects. These are not few, for the MS. is evidently the work of a scribe who was not very well acquainted with his copy. He makes barbarous work of the few Latin passages which occur, and verbal errors are of frequent occurrence; and yet, on mature deliberation, I came to the conclusion that it would be more advisable to leave these corrections for the notes, and thus give the reader an opportunity of forming his own opinion on passages which are certainly corrupt, but which may possibly admit of more than one method of explanation.

The frequent occurrence of the double letter ff in the manuscript, and in places where it could not be used for the capital letter, implies a dialectical distinction, the exact meaning of which has not yet been discovered. I have carefully preserved them in the text.

The Glossary will be found useful to those who are learned in the philology of our early language, as there are many words of very unfrequent occurrence; but I have constructed it more especially with a view to the wants of those who have not made our early poetry a matter of study. In doing so, I thought that I should be consulting the best interests of the Shakespeare Society, as a large majority of its members belong, in all probability, to the latter class.

J. O. Halliwell.

Alfred Place, London, June 21st, 1841.

FOOTNOTES

[1] I am not without hopes of one or two more collections turning up. In MS. Addit. 4791, fol. 157, is given a list of the plays represented at Dublin on Corpus Christi day, 1468, which differs materially from the contents of any known series. The play of the “Sacrifice of Abraham,” in Trinity College, Dublin, may be one of these. It has been printed by Mr. Collier.

[2] Wood’s Athenæ, by Bliss, vol. ii., p. 458. Hegge does not allude to the MS. in any of his writings.

[3] MS. Cotton. Julius, C. iii., fol. 193. James was then resident at Oxford.

[4] In the old catalogue of the Cottonian library, commenced in the year 1621, in MS. Harl. 6018, there is no notice of the present MS. I find, however, in a list of books “lent out of my study befor this 23 Aprill, 1621,” an entry which may be interesting to the reader: “Ælfricus Grammar Saxon to Ben: Jonson.” This was doubtlessly “the most ancient grammar written in the Saxon tongue and character,” which Kynaston saw in his hands. See Gifford’s Jonson, vol. ix., p. 254.

[5] Collected from the records of the corporation. Mr. Sharp has also printed a Coventry play of a later date, which does not contain the dialectical peculiarity mentioned above.

[6] Laneham’s Letter, 12mo. Lond. 1575, p. 32.

[7] Playe called the foure P. P. sig. d. ii. Sharp has given us many particulars relative to this character. See also Collier’s Hist. Dram. Poet. vol. ii. p. 262-266.

[8] The reader will not perhaps be displeased to see this passage as it stands in the original MS. of Dugdale’s work:—“Before the suppression of the monasteries, this cittye was very famous for the pageants that were play’d therein upon Corpus Christi day. These pageants were acted with mighty state and reverence by the fryers of this house, and conteyned the story of the New Testament which was composed into old English rime. The theatres for the severall scenes were very large and high; and, being placed upon wheeles, were drawne to all the eminent places of the cittye, for the better advantage of the spectators. In that incomparable library belonging to Sir Thomas Cotton, there is yet one of the bookes which perteyned to this pageant, entitled Ludus Corporis Christi, or Ludus Coventriæ. I myselfe have spoke with some old people who had, in their younger yeares, bin eyewitnesses of these pageants soe acted; from whom I have bin told that the confluence of people from farr and neare to see that shew was extraordinary great, and yielded noe small advantage to this cittye.”

[9] “It appears, by the latter end of the prologue, that these plays or interludes were not only played at Coventry, but in other towns and places upon occasion.”—Wright’s Historia Histrionica, 8vo. Lond. 1699, p. 17.

[10] History of Dramatic Poetry, vol. ii. p. 156.

CONTENTS.

THE
COVENTRY MYSTERIES.

PROLOGUE.

Primus vexillator.

Now gracyous God, groundyd of alle goodnesse,

As thi grete glorie nevyr begynnyng had,

So thou socour and save alle tho that sytt and sese,

And lystenyth to oure talkyng with sylens stylle and sad,

ffor we purpose us pertly stylle in this prese,

The pepyl to plese with pleys ful glad.

Now lystenyth us, lovely, bothe more and lesse,

Gentyllys and ȝemanry of goodly lyff lad,

This tyde.

We xal ȝou shewe, as that we kan,

How that this werd ffyrst began,

And how God made bothe molde and man,

Iff that ȝe wyl abyde.

Secundus vexillator.

In the ffyrst pagent, we thenke to play

How God dede make, thorowe his owyn myth,

Hevyn so clere upon the fyrst day,

And therin he sett angelle fful bryth.

Than angelle with songe, this is no nay,

Xal worchep God, as it is ryth;

But Lucyfer, that angelle so gay,

In suche pompe than is he pyth,

And set in so grete pride,

That Goddys sete he gynnyth to take,

Hese lordys pere hymself to make,

But than he ffallyth a ffend ful blake,

ffrom hevyn in helle to a[bide.]

Tertius vexillator.

In the secunde pagent by Godys myth,

We thenke to shewe and pley, be-dene,

In the other sex days, by opyn syth,

What thenge was wrought ther xal be sene;

How best was made and foule of flyth,

And last was man made, as I wene;

Of mannys o ryb, as I ȝow plyth,

Was woman wrougth mannys make to bene,

And put in paradyse.

Ther were floures bothe blew and blake,

Of alle frutes thei myth ther take,

Saff frute of cunnyng thei xulde forsake,

And towche it in no wyse.

The serpent toke Eve an appyl to byte,

And Eve toke Adam a mursel of the same,

Whan thei had do thus aȝens the rewle of ryte,

Than was oure Lord wrothe and grevyd al with grame.

Oure Lord gan appose them of ther grete delyte,

Bothe to askuse hem of that synful blame,

And than Almyghty God, ffor that gret dyspite,

Assygned hem grevous peyn, as ȝe xal se in game,

In dede,

Seraphyn, an angelle gay,

With brennyng swerd, this is verray,

From paradise bete hem away,

In Bybyl as we rede.

Primus vexillator.

We purpose to shewe in the thryd pagent,

The story of Caym and of hese brother Abelle,

Of here tythynges now be we bent

In this pagent the trewthe to telle.

How the tythyng of Abel with feyr was brent,

And accept to God, yf ȝe wyl dwelle,

We purpose to shewe, as we have ment,

And how he was kyllyd of his brother so felle;

And than

How Caym was cursyd in al degré,

Of Godys owyn mowthe, ther xal ȝe se,

Of trewe tythyng this may wel be,

Exaw[m]ple to every man.

Secundus vexillator.

The iii.ᵈᵉ pagent is now ȝow tolde;

The ffourte pagent of Noe xal be,

How God was wrothe with man an molde,

Because fro synne man dede not fle.

He sent to Noe an angel bolde,

A shyp ffor to makyn and swymmen on the se,

Upon the water bothe wood and coolde,

And viij. sowles ther savyd xulde be.

And j. peyre of everiche bestes in brynge.

Whan xl.ᵗⁱ days the flode had fflowe,

Than sente Noe out a crowe,

And after hym he sent a dowe,

That brouth ryth good tydyng.

Tertius vexillator.

Of Abraham is the fyfte pagent,

And of Ysaac his sone so fre,

How that he xulde with fere be brent,

And slayn with swerd, as ȝe xal se.

Abraham toke with good atent

His sone Ysaac, and knelyd on kne,

His suerd was than ful redy bent,

And thouth his chylde ther offered xuld be,

Upon an hylle ful ryff.

Than God toke tent to his good wyl,

And sent an angel ryth sone hym tyl,

And bad Abraham a shep to kyl,

And savyd his chyldys lyff.

Primus vexillator.

The sexte pagent is of Moyses,

And of tweyn tabelys that God hym took,

In the whiche were wrete, without les,

The lawes of God to lerne and lok.

And how God charged hym be wordys these,

The lawes to lerne al of that book,

Moyses than doth nevyr more sese,

But prechyth duly both ȝere and woke,

The lawes as I ȝow telle.

The ten comaundementes alle be-dene,

In oure play ȝe xal hem sene,

To alle tho that there wyl bene,

If that ȝe thenke to duelle.

Secundus vexillator.

Off the gentyl Jesse rote,

The sefnt pagent forsothe xal ben,

Out of the whiche doth sprynge oure bote,

As in prophecye we redyn and sen;

Kyngys and prophetes with wordys fful sote,

Schulle prophesye al of a qwene,

The whiche xal staunche oure stryff and moote,

And wynnyn us welthe withoutyn wene,

In hevyn to abyde.

They xal prophecye of a mayde,

Alle ffendys of here xal be affrayde,

Here sone xal save us, be not dismayde,

With hese woundys wyde.

Tertius vexillator.

Of the grete bushop Abyacar,

The tende pagent xal be without lesyng,

The whiche comaundyth men to be war,

And brynge here douteres to dew weddyng;

Alle that ben xiiij. ȝere and more,

To maryage he byddyth hem bryng,

Wherevyr thei be, he chargyth sore,

That thei not ffayle for no lettyng,

The lawe byddyth so serteyn than.

Than Joachym and Anne so mylde,

Thei brynge forthe Mary that blyssyd chylde,

But she wold not be defylyde,

With spot nor wem of man.

In chastyté that blysful mayde

Avowyd there here lyff to lede.

Than is the busshop sore dysmayde,

And wonderyth sore al of this dede;

He knelyd to God, as it is sayde,

And prayth than for help and rede.

Than seyth an angel, “be not afrayde,

Of this dowte take thou no drede,

But for the kynrede of Davyd thou sende;

Lete hem come with here offryng,

And in here handys white ȝerdys brynge,

Loke whose ȝerde doth ffloure and sprynge,

And he xal wedde that mayden hende.”

Primus vexillator.

In the x.ᵗᵉ pagent, sothe to say,

A masangere fforthe is sent;

Davydis kynrede without delay

They come fful sone with good entent.

Whan Joseph offeryd his ȝerde that day,

Anon ryth fforth in present

The ded styk do floure fful gay,

And than Joseph to wedlok went,

Ryth as the angel bad.

Than he plyth to his wyff,

In chastyté to ledyn here lyff,

The busshop toke here iij. maydenys ryff,

Som comforte there she had.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xj.ᵈᵉ pagent goth Gabryelle,

And doth salute oure lady ffre,

Than grett with chylde, as I ȝow telle,

That blyssyd mayde, forsothe is she.

Tho iij. maydenys that with here dwelle,

Here gret speche, but noon thei se,

Than they suppose that sum angelle,

Goddys masangere that it xuld be.

And thus

The Holy Gost in here is lyth,

And Goddys sone in here is pygth,

The aungelle doth telle what he xal hyght,

And namyth the chylde Jhesus.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xij. pagent, as I ȝow telle,

Joseph comyth hom fro fer countré,

Oure ladyes wombe with chylde doth swelle,

And than Joseph ful hevy is he;

He doth forsake here with hert ful felle,

Out of countré he gynnyth to fle,

He nevyr more thenkyth with here to dwelle,

And than oure lady ryth sore wepyth she.

An angelle seyd hym ryf,

“God is with thi wyff sertayn,

Therfore, Joseph, turne hom agayn.”

Than is Joseph in herte ful fayn,

And goth ageyn onto his wyff.

Primus vexillator.

The xiiij.ᵗᵉ pagent, I sey ȝow be-dene,

Xal be of Joseph and mylde Mary,

How they were sclawndryd with trey and tene,

And to here purgacion thei must hem hy.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xv. pagent shewe we xal,

How Joseph went withoute varyauns,

ffor mydwyvys to helpe oure lady at alle,

Of childe that she had delyverauns.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xvj. pagent Cryst xal be born,

Of that joy aungelys xul synge,

And telle the shepherdys in that morn

The blysseful byrth of that kyng.

The shepherdys xal come hym befforn,

With reverens and with worchepyng,

ffor he xal savyn that was forlorn,

And graunt us lyff evyr more lestyng,

I-wys.

This gle in grythe

Is mater of myrthe,

Now Crystys byrthe,

Bryng us to his blys!

Primus vexillator.

The xv.ᵗᵉ pagent come kynges iij.,

With gold, myrre, and ffrankynsens,

Kyng Herowdys styward hem doth se,

And bryngyth alle to his presens.

The Kynges of Coleyn with hert ful ffre,

Tolde kyng Herownde here dylygens,

That thei south in that countré

A kyng of kynges, ffrom fere thens

A sterre led hem the way.

The chylde is ȝoung and lyth in stalle.

He xal be kyng of kynges alle,

Beffore hym we thynk on kne to ffalle,

And worchep hym this day.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xvj. pagent as wroth as wynde

Is kyng Herownde, the sothe to say,

And cruel knytes and unkende

To sle male chylderyn he sendyth that day.

But Cryst Jhesu thei may not ffynde,

For Joseph hath led that childe away

Unto Egypth, as we have mende,

As angele to Joseph dyd byd and say

In hyȝht.

Tho chylderyn that syt in here moderes lap,

To sowkyn ful swetly here moderes pap,

The knythtes do sle hem evyn at a swap,

This is a rewly syth.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xvij. pagent the knythtes, be-dene,

Shulle brynge dede childeryn befor the kyng;

Whan kyng Herownde that syth hath sene,

fful glad he is of here kyllyng.

Than kyng Herownde, withowtyn wene,

Is sett to mete at his lykyng,

In his most pride xal come gret tene,

As ȝe xal se at oure pleyng.

His sorwe xal awake;

Whan he is sett at hese most pryde,

Sodeyn deth xal thrylle his syde,

And kylle his knyttes that with hym byde;

The devyl ther soulys xal take.

Primus vexillator.

In the xviij. pagent we must purpose,

To shewe whan Cryst was xij. ȝer of age,

How in the temple he dede appose

And answerd doctoris ryth wyse and sage.

The blyssyd babe withowte glose,

Overcam olde clerkes with suyche langage,

That thei meveylyd, ȝe xal suppose,

How that he cam to suche knowlage.

And in this whyle,

Thre days he was oute

ffro his modyr, without doute,

Wepyng she sowth hym rownde aboute

Jherusalem many a myle.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xix. pagent xal seynt Jhon

Baptyse Cryst, as I ȝow say,

In the watyr of flom Jordone,

With which devys, as we best may,

The Holy Gost xal ovyr hym on,

The ffaderes voys xal be herd that day,

Out of hevyn that blisful trone,

The fadyr xal be herd, this is no nay,

And forth with pleyn.

The Holy Gost xal be hys gyde

Into desert therin to abyde,

Xl.ᵗⁱ days a terme ful wyde,

And xl.ᵗⁱ nyghtes to faste serteyn.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xx.ᵗⁱ pagent alle the develys of helle,

They gadere a parlement, as ȝe xal se,

They have grete doute the trewth to telle,

Of Cryst Jhesu whath he xulde be.

They sende Sathan, that ffynde so ffelle,

Cryst for to tempte in fele degré:

We xal ȝow shewe, if ȝe wyl dwelle,

How Cryst was temptyd in synnys thre

Of the deyvl Sathane;

And how Cryst answeryd onto alle,

And made the ffende awey to falle,

As we best may this shewe we xalle,

Thorwe grace of God and man.

Primus vexillator.

The xxj.ᵗⁱ pagent of a woman xal be,

The whiche was take in adultrye;

The Pharysewys ffalsed ther ȝe xal se,

Cryst to convycte how they were slye.

They conseyvyd this sotylté,

Yf Cryst this woman dede dampne trewly,

Ageyn his prechyng than dede he,

Whiche was of peté and of mercy;

And yf he dede here save,

Than were he aȝens Moyses lawe,

That byddyth with stonys she xulde be slawe,

Thus they thowth undyr ther awe

Cryst Jhesu ffor to have.

Secundus vexillator.

The grettest meracle that evyr Jhesus

In erthe wrouth beforn his passyon,

In xxij.ᵗⁱ pagent we purpose us

To shewe in dede the declaracion.

That pagent xal be of Lazarus,

In whos place and habytacion

Cryst was logyd, the Gospel seyth thus,

And ofte tymes toke ther consolacion.

But ȝyt

Lazarus, as I ȝow say,

Was iiij. days ded and beryed in clay,

ffrom deth to lyve the iiij.ᵗᵉ day,

Cryst reysed hym ffrom that pyt.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xxiij.ᵗⁱ pagent, Palme Sunday,

In pley we purpose ffor to shewe,

How chylderyn of Ebrew with ffloures ful gay,

The wey that Cryst went thei gun to strewe.

Primus vexillator.

In the xxiiij.ᵗⁱ pagent, as that we may,

Cryst and his apostelys alle on rewe,

The mawnde of God ther xal they play,

And sone declare it with wordys ffewe.

And than

Judas that fals traytour,

ffor xxx.ᵗⁱ platys of werdly tresour,

Xal betray oure Savyour

To the Jewys certan.

Secundus vexillator.

ffor grevous peyn, this is no les,

In the xxv.ᵗⁱ pagent, Cryst xal pray

To the fadyr of hevyn that peyn for to ses,

His shamful deth to put away.

Judas that traytour, befor gret pres,

Xal kys his mouthe and hym betray,

Alle his dyscyples than do dyscres,

And forsake Cryst, the sothe to say,

ffor doute thei do hem hede.

Hese dyscyplys alle everychone

Do renne awey and leve hym alone,

They lete hym stondyn amonge his ffon,

And ronne away ffor drede.

Tertius vexillator.

Than in the xxvj.ᵗⁱ pagent,

To Cayphas Cryst xal be brouth,

Tho Jewys fful redy ther xul be bent,

Cryst to acuse with worde and thouth.

Seynt Petyr doth folwe with good intent,

To se with Cryst what xuld be wrouth;

ffor Crystes dyscyple whan he is hent,

Thryes he doth swere he knew hym nowth,—

A kok xal crowe and crye;

Than doth Petyr gret sorwe make,

ffor he his lord thus dede forsake,

But God to grace hym sone doth take,

Whan he doth aske mercye.

Primus vexillator.

In the xxvij. pagent, sere Pylat

Is sett in sete as hy justyce;

Whan he is set in his astat,

Thre thevys be brout of synful gyse,

And Cryst that lovyd nevyr stryff nor bat,

But trewthe and goodnesse on every wyse,

As for a thef with ryth gret hat,

Is browth to stondyn at that same syse.

And than, as I ȝow say,

The wyff of Pylat goth to rest,

Coveryd with clothis al of the best,

Than ffor to slepe she is ful prest,

Alle this we thenke to play.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xxviij. pagent xal Judas,

That was to Cryst a ffals traytour,

With wepyng sore evyr crye, alas,

That evyr he solde oure Savyour.

He xal be sory ffor his trespas,

And brynge aȝen alle his tresour,

Alle xxx. pens to sere Cayphas,

He xal them brynge with gret dolowre,

ffor the whiche Cryst was bowth.

ffor gret whanhope, as ȝe xal se,

He hangyth hymself upon a tre,

ffor he noth trostyth in Godys peté,

To helle his sowle is browth.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xxix. pagent, to Pylatus wyff

In slepe aperyth the devyl of helle,

ffor to savyn Crystes lyff,

The devyl here temptyth, as I ȝow telle.

Sche sendyth to Pylat anon ful ryff,

And prayth that Cryst he xuld not qwelle;

Than Pylat is besy and ryth blyff,

Cryst for to savyn he ȝevyth councelle,

ffor he dede nevyr trespas.

The Jewys do crye fast ffor to kylle,

The rythful man thei aske to spylle,

A thef thei save with herty wylle,

That callyd is Barrabas.

Primus vexillator.

In the xxx. pagent thei bete out Crystes blood,

And nayle hym al nakyd upon a rode tre,

Betwen ij. thevys, i-wys they were to wood,

They hyng Cryst Jhesu, gret shame it is to se.

Vij. wurdys Cryst spekyth hangyng upon the rode,

The weche ȝe xal here alle tho that wyl ther be,

Than doth he dye ffor oure allether good;

His modyr doth se that syth, gret mornyng makyth she,

ffor sorwe she gynnyth to swowne.

Seynt John evyn ther as I ȝow plythe,

Doth chere oure lady with al his mythe,

And to the temple anon forth rythe,

He ledyth here in that stownde.

Secundus vexillator.

We purpose to shewe in oure pleyn place,

In the xxxj.ᵗⁱ pagent, thorwe Godys mythe,

How to Crystes herte a spere gan pace,

And rent oure lordys bryst in ruly plyth.

ffor Longeus that olde knyth, blynd as he was,

A ryth sharpe spere to Crystes herte xal pythe,

The blod of his wounde to his oyn xal tras,

And thorwe gret meracle ther hath he syth.

Than in that morn,

Crystes soule goth downe to helle,

And ther ovyrcomyth the fend so felle,

Comfortyth the soulys that therin dwelle,

And savyth that was fforlorn.

Tertius vexillator.

Joseph and Nycodemus to Cryst trew servaunt

In the xxxij. page[nt] the body thei aske to have.

Pylat ful redyly the body doth hem graunt,

Than thei with reverens do put it in grave.

The Jewys more wyckyd than ony geawunt,

ffor Crystes ded body kepers do thei crave,

Pylat sendyth iiij. knytes that be ryth hardaunt,

To keep the blody body in his dede conclave.

And ȝit be his owyn myth,

The body that was hevy as led,

Be the Jewys nevyr so qwed,

Aryseth from grave that ther lay ded,

And ffrayth than every knyth.

Primus vexillator.

In the xxiij. pagent the soule of Cryst Jhesu

Xal brynge alle his ffrendys ffrom helle to paradyse,

The soule goth than to the grave, and be ryth gret vertu

That body that longe ded hath loyn to lyf aȝen doth ryse.

Than doth Cryst Jhesu onto his modyr sew,

And comfortyth alle here care in temple ther she lyse,

With suche cher and comforth his modyr he doth indew,

That joy it is to here ther speche for to devyse.

And than

Oure lady of hefne so cler,

In herte sche hath ryth glad chere,

Whan here sone thus doth apere,

Here care awey is tan.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xxxiiij. pagent xal Maryes thre

Seke Cryst Jhesu in his grave so coolde;

An aungel hem tellyth that aresyn is he;

And whan that this tale to them is tolde,

To Crystes dyscyplis with wurdys fful fre,

They telle these tydynges with brest ful bolde.

Than Petyr and John, as ȝe xal se,

Down rennyn in hast over lond and wolde,

The trewth of this to have.

Whan thei ther comyn, as I ȝow say,

He is gon ffrom undyr clay,

Than thei wytnesse anoon that day,

He lyth not in his grave.

Tertius vexillator.

Onto Mary Mawdelyn as we have bent,

Cryst Jhesu xal than apere,

In the xxxv.ᵗⁱ pagent,

And she wenyth he be a gardenere.

Mary, be name verament,

Whan Cryst here callyth with speche ful clere,

She fallyth to ground with good entent,

To kys his fete with gladsom chere.

But Cryst byddyth here do way,

He byddyth his feet that sche not kys,

Tyl he have styed to hefne blys,

To Crystes dyscyplys Mary i-wys

Than goth the trewthe to say.

Primus vexillator.

In the xxxvj.ᵗⁱ pagent xal Cleophas

And Sent Luke to a castel go,

Of Crystes deth as thei fforth pas

They make gret mornyng and be ful wo,

Than Cryst them ovyrtok, as his wyl was,

And walkyd in felachep fforth with hem too,

To them he doth expowne bothe more and las

Alle that prophetes spake ad of hymself also;

That nyth in fay,

Whan thei be set within the castelle,

In brekyng of bred thei know Cryst welle,

Than sodeynly, as I ȝow telle,

Cryste is gon his way.

Secundus vexillator.

In the xxxvij. pagent than purpos we,

To Thomas of Ynde Cryst xal apere,

And Thomas evyn ther, as ȝe xal se,

Xal put his hands in his woundes dere.

Tertius vexillator.

In the xxxviij.ᵗⁱ pagent up stye xal he

Into hefne that is so clere,

Alle hese apostele there xul be,

And woundere sore and have gret dwere,

Of that fferly syth.

Ther xal come aungelle tweyne,

And comfforte hem, this is certeyne,

And tellyn that he xal comyn ageyne,

Even by his owyn myth.

Primus vexillator.

Than ffolwyth next sekyrly,

Of Wyttsunday that solempne ffest,

Whyche pagent xal be ix. and thretty,

To the apostelys to apere be Crystes hest;

In Hierusalem were gaderyd xij. opynly,

To the Cenacle comyng ffrom West to Est,

The Holy Gost apperyd fful vervently,

With brennyng ffere thyrlyng here brest,

Procedyng from hevyn trone.

Alle maner langage hem spak with tung,

Latyn, Grek, and Ebrew amonge,

And affter thei departyd and taryed not long,

Here deth to take ful sone.

Secundus vexillator.

The xl.ᵗⁱ pagent xal be the last,

And domysday that pagent xal hyth,

Who se that pagent may be agast

To grevyn his lord God eyther day or nyth;

The erthe xal qwake, bothe breke and brast,

Beryelys and gravys xul ope ful tyth,

Ded men xul rysyn and that ther in hast,

And ffast to here ansuere thei xul hem dyth,

Beffore Godys fface.

But prente wyl this in ȝour mende,

Who so to God hath be unkende,

ffrenchep ther xal he non ffynde,

Ne ther get he no grace.

Tertius vexillator.

Now have we told ȝow alle be-dene

The hool mater that we thynke to play;

Whan that ȝe come, ther xal ȝe sene

This game wel pleyd in good aray.

Of holy wrytte this game xal bene,

And of no fablys be no way,

Now God them save from trey and tene,

ffor us that prayth upon that day,

And qwyte them wel ther mede.

A Sunday next, yf that we may,

At vj. of the belle we gynne oure play,

In N. towne, wherfore we pray,

That God now be ȝoure spede. Amen.

I. THE CREATION.

Deus. Ego sum alpha et Ω, principium et finis.

My name is knowyn, God and kynge,

My werk for to make now wyl I wende,

In myself restyth my reynenge,

It hath no gynnyng ne non ende;

And alle that evyr xal have beynge,

It is closyd in my mende,

Whan it is made at my lykynge,

I may it save, I may it shende,

After my plesawns.

So gret of myth is my pousté,

Alle thyng xal be wrowth be me,

I am oo God in personys thre,

Knyt in oo substawns.

I am the trewe trenyté,

Here walkyng in this wone;

Thre personys myself I se,

Lokyn in me God alone.

I am the ffadyr of powsté,

My Sone with me gynnyth gon,

My Gost is grace in magesté,

Weldyth welthe up in hevyn tron.

O God thre I calle,

I a fadyr of myth,

My sone kepyth ryth,

My gost hath lyth,

And grace with alle.

Myself begynnyng nevyr dyd take,

And endeles I am thorw myn own myth,

Now wole I begynne my werke to make,—

ffyrst I make hevyn with sterrys of lyth

In myrth and joy evermore to wake,

In hevyn I bylde angelle fful bryth,

My servauntes to be, and for my sake,

With merth and melody worchepe my myth;

I belde them in my blysse.

Aungelle in hevyn evyrmore xal be,

In lythful clere bryth as ble,

With myrthe and song to worchip me,

Of joys thei may not mys.

Hic cantent angeli in cœlo. “Tibi omnes angeli, tibi cœli et universæ potestates, Tibi cherubyn et seraphyn incessabili voce proclamant,—Sanctus! Sanctus! Sanctus! Dominus Deus Sabaoth.”

Lucifer. To whos wurchipe synge ȝe this songe,

To wurchip God or reverens me?

But ȝe me wurchipe ȝe do me wronge,

ffor I am the wurthyest that evyr may be.

Angeli boni. We wurchipe God of myth most stronge,

Whiche hath fformyd bothe us and the,

We may nevyr wurchyp hym to longe,

ffor he is most worthy of magesté.

On knes to God we ffalle.

Oure lorde God wurchyp we,

And in no wyse honowre we the,

A gretter lord may nevyr non be,

Than he that made us alle.

Lucifer. A worthyer lorde forsothe am I,

And worthyer than he evyr wyl I be,

In evydens that I am more wurthy,

I wyl go syttyn in Goddes se.

Above sunne and mone and sterres on sky

I am now set, as ȝe may se;

Now wurchyp me ffor most mythty,

And for ȝour lord honowre now me,

Syttyng in my sete.

Angeli mali. Goddys myth we forsake,

And for more wurthy we the take,

The to wurchep honowre we make,

And ffalle down at thi ffete.

Deus. Thu Lucyfere ffor thi mekyl pryde,

I bydde the ffalle from hefne to helle;

And alle tho that holdyn on thi syde,

In my blysse nevyr more to dwelle.

At my comawndement anoon down thou slyde,

With merthe and joye nevyr more to melle,

In myschyf and manas evyr xalt thou abyde,

In byttyr brennyng and fyer so felle,

In peyn evyr to be pyht.

Lucyfer. At thy byddyng thi wyl I werke,

And pas fro joy to peyne smerte,

Now I am a devyl ful derke,

That was an aungelle bryht.

Now to helle the wey I take,

In endeles peyn ther to be pyht.

ffor fere of fyre a fart I crake,

In helle doonjoone myn dene is dyth.

Deus. Now hevyn is made ffor aungelle sake,

The fyrst day and the fyrst nyth;

The secunde day watyr I make,

The walkyn also ful fayr and bryth.

The iij.ᵈᵉ day I parte watyr from erthe,

Tre and every growyng thyng,

Bothe erbe and floure of suete smellyng,

The iij.ᵈᵉ day is made be my werkyng.

Now make I the day that xal be the fferthe.

Sunne and mone and sterrys also,

The forthe day I make in same;

The v.ᵗᵉ day werme and ffysche that swymme and go,

Byrdys and bestes, bothe wylde and tame;

The sexte day my werk I do,

And make the man Adam be name,

In ertheleche paradys withowtyn wo,

I graunt the bydyng, lasse thou do blame:

fflesche of thi fflesche, and bon of thi bone,

Adam here is thi wyf and make,

Both ffysche and foulys that swymmyn and gone,

To everyche of hem a name thou take;

Both tre and frute and bestys echone,

Red and qwyte, bothe blew and blake,

Thou ȝeve hem name be thiself alone,

Erbys and gresse both beetes and brake;

Thi wyff thou ȝeve name also.

Lok that ȝe not ses,

ȝowre ffrute to encres,

That ther may be pres

Me worchipe for to do.

Now come fforthe Adam to paradys,

Ther xalt thou have alle maner thynge,

Bothe flesche and ffysche and frute of prys,

Alle xal be buxum at thi byddyng.

Here is pepyr, pyan, and swete lycorys,

Take hem alle at thi lykyng,

Bothe appel and pere and gentyl rys,

But towche nowth this tre that is of cunnyng,

Alle thynge saff this ffor the is wrought;

Here is alle thinge that the xulde plese,

Alle redy made onto thin ese,

Ete not this frute ne me dysplese,

ffor than thou deyst, thou skapyst nowth.

Now have I made alle thynge of nowth,

Hevyn and erthe, foulle and best:—

To alle thynge that myn hand hath wrowth,

I graunt myn blyssyng that evyr xal lest;

My wey to hefne is redy sowth,

Of werkyng I wole the vij.ᵗᵉ day rest,

And alle my creatures that be abowth,

My blyssyng ȝe have both est and west.

Of werkyng the vij.ᵗᵉ day ȝe sees;

And alle tho that sees of laboryng here,

The vij.ᵗᵉ day withowtyn dwere,

And wurchyp me in good manere,

Thei xal in hefne have endles pes.

Adam go forthe and be prynce in place,

ffor to hefne I sped my way;

Thi wyttys wel loke thou chase,

And gostly governe the, as I say.

II. THE FALL OF MAN.

Adam. Holy ffadyr blyssyd thou be,

ffor I may walke in welthe anow,

I ffynde datys gret plenté,

And many ffele frutes ful every bow;

Alle this wele is ȝevyn to me,

And to my wyf that on me lowh,

I have no nede to towche ȝon tre,

Aȝens my lordys wyl to werke now;

I am a good gardenere;

Every frute of ryche name,

I may gaderyn with gle and game,

To breke that bond I were to blame

That my lord bad me kepyn here.

Eva. We may bothe be blythe and glad,

Oure lordys comaundement to fulfylle,

With ffele frutys be we ffayr ffad,

Woundyr dowcet and nevyr on ille.

Every tre with frute is sprad,

Of them to take as plesyth us tylle,

Oure wytte were rakyl and ovyr don bad,

To fforfete ageyns oure lordys wylle

In ony wyse.

In this gardeyn I wyl go se,

Alle the ffloures of fayr bewté,

And tastyn the frutes of gret plenté.

That be in paradyse.

Serpens. Heyl ffayr wyff and comely dame!

This ffrute to ete I the cownselle,

Take this appyl and ete this ssame,

This ffrute is best as I the telle.

Eva. That appyl to ete I were to blame,

ffrom joy oure lorde wolde us expelle,

We xuld dye and be put out with schame,

In joye of paradyse nevyr more to duelle.

God hymself thus sayde,

What day of that frute we ete,

With these wurdys God dyd us threte,

That we xuld dye our lyff to lete,

Therffore I am affrayde.

Serpens. Of this appyl yf ȝe wyl byte,

Evyn as God is, so xal ȝe be,

Wys of connyng as I ȝow plyte,

Lyke onto God in al degré.

Sunne and mone and sterrys bryth,

ffysche and foule, bothe sond and se,

At ȝour byddyng bothe day and nyth,

Alle thynge xal be in ȝowre powsté;

ȝe xal be Goddys pere.

Take this appyl in thin hond,

And to byte therof thou ffond,

Take another to thin husbond,

Thereof have thou no dwere.

Eva. So wys as God is in his gret mayn,

And ffelaw in kunnyng ffayn wold I be.

Serpens. Ete this appyl, and in certeyn

That I am trewe, sone xalt thou se.

Eva. To myn husbond with herte fful fayne,

This appyl I bere, as thou byddyst me,

This frute to ete I xal asayn,

So wys as God is yf we may be,

And Goddys pere of myth.

To myn husbond I walke my way,

And of this appyl I xal asay,

To make hym to ete, yf that I may,

And of this ffrewte to byth.

Hic Eva reveniet Adæ viro suo et dicet ei.

My semely spowse and good husbond,

Lystenyth to me, sere, I ȝow pray,

Take this ffayr appyl alle in ȝour hond,

Therof a mursel byte and asay.

To ete this appyl, loke that ȝe fonde,

Goddys ffelaw to be alway,

Alle his wysdam to undyrstonde,

And Goddys pere to be ffor ay,

Alle thyng for to make,—

Bothe ffysche and foule, se and sond,

Byrd and best, watyr and lond;

This appyl thou take out of myn hond,

A bete therof thou take.

Adam. I dare not towche thin hand ffor dred

Of oure lord God omnypotent,

If I xuld werke after thi reed,

Of God oure makere I xuld be shent.

If that we do this synful dede,

We xal be ded by Goddys jugement.

Out of thin hand with hasty spede,

Cast out that appyl anon present,

ffor fer of Goddys threte.

Eva. Of this appyl yf thou wylt byte,

Goddys pere thou xalt be pyht,

So wys of kunnyng, I the plyht,

This frute yf thou wylt ete.

Adam. If we it ete oureself we kylle,

As God us told we xuld be ded;

To ete that frute and my lyf to spylle,

I dar not do aftyr thi reed.

Eva. A ffayr aungelle thus seyd me tylle,

“To ete that appyl take nevyr no dred,

So kunnyng as God in hevyn hille,

Thou xalt sone be withinne a sted,

Therfore this frute thou ete.”

Adam. Off Goddys wysdam for to lere,

And in kunnyng to be his pere,

Of thyn hand I take it here,

And xal sone tast this mete.

Adam dicet sic.

Alas! alas! ffor this fals dede,

My flesly frend my fo I fynde,

Schameful synne doth us unhede,

I se us nakyd before and behynde.

Oure lordes wurd wold we not drede,

Therfore we be now caytyvys unkynde,

Oure pore prevytés ffor to hede,

Summe ffygge-levys fayn wolde I fynde,

ffor to hyde oure schame.

Womman, ley this leff on thi pryvyté,

And with this leff I xal hyde me,

Gret schame it is us nakyd to se,

Oure lord God thus to grame.

Eva. Alas! that evyr that speche was spokyn,

That the fals aungel seyd onto me,

Alas! oure makers byddyng is brokyn,

ffor I have towchyd his owyn dere tre.

Oure fflescly eyn byn al unlokyn,

Nakyd for synne ouresylf we se,

That sory appyl that we han sokyn,

To dethe hathe brouth my spouse and me,

Ryth grevous is oure synne.

Of mekyl shame now do we knowe,

Alas! that evyr this appyl was growe,

To dredful deth now be we throwe,

In peyne us evyr to pynne.

Deus. Adam, that with myn handys I made,

Where art thou now? what hast thou wrought?

Adam. A! lord, for synne oure floures do ffade,

I here thi voys, but I se the nought.

Deus. Adam, why hast thou synnyd so sone,

Thus hastyly to breke my bone,

And I made the mayster, undyr mone,

Trewly of every tre.

O tre I kept for my owe,

Lyff and deth therin I knowe,

Thi synne fro lyf now the hath throwe,

ffrom deth thou mayst not fle.

Adam. Lord I have wrought aȝens thi wylle,

I sparyd nat mysylf to spylle,

The woman that thou toke me tylle,

Sche brougth me therto.

It was here counselle and here reed,

Sche bad me do the same deed,

I walke as werme withowtyn wede,

A wey is schrowde and sho.

Deus. Womman that arte this mannys wyffe,

Why hast thou steryd ȝour bothers stryffe?

Now ȝe be ffrom ȝour ffayr lyffe,

And are demyd for to deye.

Unwys womman, sey me why,

That thou hast don this fowle foly,

And I made the a gret lady,

In paradys for to pleye?

Eva. Lord! whan thou wentyst from this place,

A werm with an aungelys face,

He hyth us to be ful of grace,

The frute yf that we ete.

I dyd his byddyng, alas! alas!

Now we be bowndyn in dethis las,

I suppose it was Sathanas,

To peyne he gan us pete.

Deus. Thou werm with thi wylys wyk,

Thi fals fablis thei be ful thyk,

Why hast thou put dethis pryk

In Adam and his wyff?

Thow thei bothyn my byddyng have brokyn,

Out of whoo ȝet art not wrokyn,

In helle logge thou xalt be loky[n],

And nevyr mo lacche lyff.

Diabolus. I xal the sey whereffore and why

I ded hem alle this velony,

ffor I am ful of gret envy,

Of wrethe and wyckyd hate.

That man xulde leve above the sky,

Where as sumtyme dwellyd I,

And now I am cast to helle sty,

Streyte out at hevyn gate.

Deus. Adam! ffor thou that appyl boot,

Aȝens my byddyng, welle I woot,

Go teyl thi mete with swynk and swoot,

Into thi lyvys ende.

Goo nakyd, ungry, and bare ffoot,

Ete bothe erbys, gres, and root,

Thy bale hath non other boot,

As wrecche in werlde thou wende.

Womman thou sowtyst this synnyng,

And bad hym breke myn byddyng,

Therfore thou xalt ben undyrlyng,

To mannys byddyng bend.

What he byddyth the, do thou that thynge,

And bere thi chyldere with gret gronynge,

In daungere and in deth dredynge,

Into thi lyvys ende.

Thou wyckyd worm fful of pryde,

ffowle envye syt be thi syde,

Upon thi gutt thou xalt glyde,

As werm wyckyd in kende.

Tyl a maydon in medyl-erth be borne,

Thou ffende I warn the beforn,

Thorwe here thi bed xal be to-torn,

On wombe awey thou wende.

Diabolus. At thi byddyng ffowle I falle,

I krepe hem to my stynkyng stalle,

Helle pyt and hevyn halle,

Xul do thi byddyng bone.

I ffalle downe here a ffowle freke,

ffor this ffalle I gynne to qweke,

With a ffart my breche I breke,

My sorwe comyth ful sone.

Deus. ffor ȝour synne that ȝe have do,

Out of this blysse sone xal ȝe go,

In erthely labour to levyn in wo,