Part 14

Eche man in me that feytheful is, And ledyth his lyff aftere my lore, Of hendeles lyff may he nevyr mys, Evere he xal leve and deye nevyr more. The body and sowle I xal restore To endeles joye, dost thou trowe this? _Martha._ I hope in the, O Cryst! ful sore, Thou art the Sone of God in blys!

Thy ffadyr is God of lyff endeles, Thiself is Sone of lyff and gras; To sese these wordlys wrecchydnes, ffrom hefne to erth ethou toke the pas. _Jhesus._ Of hevynly myght ryght grett solas, To alle this world me xul sone se; Go, calle thi systyr into this plas, Byd Mary Mawdelyn come hedyr to me.

_Martha._ At thi byddyng I xalle here calle, In hast we were here ȝow beforn. _Mawdelyn._ Alas! my mowthe is byttyr as galle, Grett sorwyn my herte on tweyn hath scorne; Now that my brothyr from syth is lorn, Ther may no myrthe my care releve. Alas, the tyme that I was borne! The swerde of sorwe myn hert doth cleve.

_Primus consolator._ ffor his dere love that alle that wrought, Ses sumtyme of ȝour wepynge, And putt alle thynge out of thought, Into this care that ȝow doth brynge. _Secundus consolator._ ȝe do ȝourself ryght grett hyndrynge, And short ȝoure lyff or ȝe beware; ffor Goddys love, ses of ȝour sorwynge, And with good wysdam refreyn ȝour care.

_Martha._ Sustyr Magdalen, come out of halle, Our maystyr is com, as I ȝow say; He sent me hedyr ȝow for to calle, Come forthe in hast, as I ȝow pray. _Magdalen._ Ha! where hath he ben many a longe day? Alas! why cam he no sonere hedyr? In hast I folwe ȝow anon the way, Me thynkyth longe or I come thedyr.

_Tertius consolator._ Herke, gode ffrendys, I ȝow pray, Aftyr this woman in hast we wende; I am aferde ryght in good fay, Hereself for sorwe that she wyl shende. _Nuncius._ Here brothyr so sore is in hire mende, She may not ete, drynke, nor slepe; Streyte to his grave she goth on ende, As a mad woman, ther for to wepe.

_Magdalen._ A! sovereyn Lord, and mayster dere! Had ȝe with us ben in presens, Than had my brother on lyve ben here, Nat ded but qwyk, that now is hens. Ageyn deth is no resystens, Alas! myn hert is woundyrly wo, Whan that I thynke of his absens, That ȝe ȝourself in herte lovyd so.

_Primus consolator._ Whan we have mynd of his sore dethe, He was to us so gentyl and good, That mend of hym oure hertes sleth, The losse of hym doth marre oure mood. _Secundus consolator._ Be bettyr neybore nevyr man stood, To every man he was ryght hende; Us he dede refresche with drynk and food, Now he is gon, gon is oure frende!

_Jhesus._ ȝowre grett wepynge doth me constreyne ffor my good ffrend to wepe also; I cannot me for wo restreyn, But I must wepe lyke as ȝe do.

_Hic Jhesus fingit se lacrimari._

_Tertius consolator._ Beholde this prophete, how he doth wepe lo! He lovyd Lazarus ryght woundyrly sore, He wolde not ellys for hym thus wepe so, But if that his love on hym were the more.

_Nuncius._ A straw for thi tale, what nedyth hym to wepe? A man born blynde dyde he nat ȝeve syght? Myght he not thanne his frende on lyve kepe, Be the vertu of that same hyȝ myght? _Jhesus._ Where is he put? telle me anon ryght; Brynge me the weye streyth to his grave. _Martha._ Lord! at ȝour wylle we xal brynge ȝow tyght, Evyn to that place ther he doth lyve in cave.

_Magdalyn._ Whan that we had the massangere sent, Or he had fullyche half a myle gon, Deyd my brother, and up we hym hent, Here in this grave we beryed hym anon. _Jhesus._ The myght of the Godhed xal gladd ȝow everychon, Suche syght xal he se hens or ȝe wende; Sett to ȝour handys, take of the ston, A syght lete me have of Laȝarus my ffrende.

_Martha._ He stynkygh ryght fowle longe tyme or this, Iiij. days gon forsothe he was dede. Lete hym ly stylle ryght evyn as he is, The stynke of his careyn myght hurte us I drede. _Jhesus._ As I have the tolde, syght of the Godhede Thyself xuldyst have, feythful if thou be; Take of the ston, do aftyr my rede, The glorye of the Godhede anon ȝe xal se.

_Primus consolator._ ȝoure byddynge xal be done a ful swyfte, Sett to ȝour handys and helpe echone; I pray ȝow, seres, help me to lyfte, I may not reyse it myself alon. _Secundus consolator._ In feyth it is an holy ston, Ryth sad of weyth and hevy of peys. _Tertius consolator._ Thow it were twyes so hevy as on, Undyr us foure we xal it reyse.

_Nuncius._ Now is the ston take ffrom the cave, Here may men se a rewly sygth Of this ded body that lyth here in grave, Wrappyd in a petefful plyght.

_Jhesus elevatis ad cælum oculis, dicit_,

I thanke the, Fadyr, of thin hyȝ myght, That thou hast herd my prayour this day; I know ful wel, bothe day and nyght, Ever thou dost graunt that I do say.

But for this pepyl that stondyth about, And beleve not the power of the and me; Them for to brynge clene out of dowt, This day oure myght they alle xul se.

_Hic Jhesus clamat voce magna, dicens_,

Laȝarus! Laȝarus! my frende so fre! ffrom that depe pitt come out anon! Be the grett myght of the hyȝ magesté, Alyve thou xalt on erthe ageyn gon.

_Laȝarus._ At ȝoure comaundement I ryse up ful ryght, Heyn, helle, and erthe ȝoure byddyng must obeye; ffor ȝe be God and man, and Lord of most myght, Of lyff and of deth ȝe have bothe lok and keye.

_Hic resurget Lazarus ligatis manibus et pedibus ad modum sepulturi, et dicit Jhesus_,

_Jhesus._ Goo forthe, bretheryn, and Laȝarus ȝe untey, And alle his bondys losyth hym asundyr; Late hym walke hom with ȝow in the wey, Ageyn Godes myght this meracle is now undyr.

_Petrus._ At ȝour byddynge his bondys we unbynde, Alle thynge muste lowte unto ȝour magesté! Be this grett meracle opynly we fynde, Very God and man in trewthe that ȝe be. _Johannes._ That thou art very God every man may se, Be this meracle so grett and so mervaylle; Alle thynge undyr hevyn must nedys obeye the,— Whan aȝens the thowh deth be, he may not prevaylle.

_Omnes Consolatores._ We alle with o voys ffor God do the knowe, And for oure Savyour we do the reverens; Alle oure hool love now in the doth growe, O sovereyn Lord of most excellens! Helpe us of ȝour grace whan that we go hens, ffor azens deth us helpyht not to stryve, But aȝen ȝour myght is no resistens, Oure dethe ȝe may aslake and kepe us stylle on lyve.

_Jhesus._ Now I have shewyd in opyn syght, Of my Godhed the gret glorye; To-ward my passyon I wyl me dyght, The tyme is nere that I must deye. ffor alle mankynde his sowle to bye, A crown of thorn xal perchyn myn brayn, And on the mont of Calvarye, Upon a cros I xal be slayn.

XXV. THE COUNCIL OF THE JEWS.

_Demon._ I am ȝour lord Lucifer, that out of helle cam, Prince of this werd, and gret duke of helle. Wherefore my name is clepyd Sere Satan, Wheche aperyth among ȝow a matere to spelle.

I am norssher of synne to the confusyon of man, To bryng hym to my dongeon ther in fyre to dwelle. Ho so evyr serve me, so reward hym I kan, That he xal syng weleaway ever in peynes ffelle.

Lo! thus bountevous a lord than now am I, To reward so synners, as my kend is; Whoso wole folwe my lore and serve me dayly, Of sorwe and peyne anow he xal nevyr mys.

ffor I began in hefne synne for to sowe, Amonge alle the angellys that weryn there so bryth; And therfore was I cast out into helle ful lowe, Notwythstandyng I was the fayrest and berere of lyth.

ȝet in drowe in my tayle of tho angelys bryth; With me into helle takyth good hed what I say; I leste but tweyn aȝens on to abyde there in lyth, But the iij.ᵈᵉ part come with me, this may not be seyd nay.

Takyth hed to your prince than, my pepyl everychon, And seyth what maystryes in hefne I gan ther do play; To gete a thowsand sowlys in an houre me thynkyth it but skorn, Syth I wan Adam and Eve on the fyrst day.

But now mervelous mendys rennyn in myn rememberawns, Of on Cryst wiche is clepyd Joseph and Maryes sone; Thryes I tempte hym be ryth sotylle instawnce, Aftyr he fast fourty days ageyns sensual myth or reson.

ffor of the stonys to a mad bred, but sone I had conclusyon, Than upon a pynnacle, but angelys were to hym assystent; His answerys were mervelous, I knew not his intencion; And at the last to veyn glory, but nevyr I had myn intent.

And now hath he xij. dyscypulys to his attendauns, To eche towne and cety he sendyth hem as bedellys; In dyverce place to make ffor hym purvyauns, The pepyl of hese werkys fful grettly merveyllys. To the crokyd, blynd, and dowme, his werkys prevaylys. Laȝarus that foure days lay ded his lyff recuryd; And where I purpose me to tempt, anon he me asaylys; Mawdelyn playn remyssyon also he hath ensuryd.

Goddys son he pretendyth and to be born of a mayde, And seyth he xal dey for mannys salvacion, Than xal the trewth be tryed and no fordere be delayd, Whan the soule from the body xal make separacion; And as for hem that be undre my grett domynacion, He xal fayle of hese intent and purpose also, Be this tyxt of holde remembryd to myn intencion, Quia in inferno nulla est redemptio!

But whan the tyme xal neyth of his persecucion, I xal arere new engynes of malycious conspiracy, Plenté of reprevys I xal provide to his confusyon, Thus xal I false the wordys that his pepyl doth testefy; His discipulis xal forsake hym, and here mayster denye, Innoumberabyl xal hese woundys be of woful grevauns. A tretowre xal countyrfe his deth to fortyfye; The rebukys that he gyf me xal turne to his displesauns.

Some of hese dyscypulys xal be chef of this ordenawns, That xal fortefye this terme that in trost is treson; Thus xal I venge be sotylté al my malycious grevauns; ffor nothyng may excede my prudens and dyscrecion.

Gyff me ȝour love, grawnt me myn affeccion, And I wyl unclose the tresor of lovys alyawns, And gyff ȝow ȝoure desyrys afftere ȝoure intencion; No poverté xal aproche ȝow, fro plentevous abundauns.

Byholde the dyvercyté of my dysgysyd varyauns, Eche thyng sett of dewe nateralle dysposycion, And eche parte acordynge to his resemblauns, ffro the sool of the ffoot to the hyest asencion.

Off ffyne cordewan a goodly peyre of long pekyd schon; Hosyn enclosyd of the most costyous cloth of crenseyn; Thus a bey to a jentylman to make comperycion, With two doseyn poyntys of cheverelle, the aglottes of sylver feyn.

A shert of feyn Holond, but care not for the payment; A stomachere of clere reynes the best may be bowth; Thow poverté be chef, lete pride ther be present, And alle tho that repreff pride, thou sette hem at nowth.

Cadace wolle or flokkys, where it may be sowth, To stuffe withal thi dobbelet, and make the of proporcyon; Two smale legges and a gret body, thow it ryme nowth, ȝet loke that thou desyre to an the newe faccion.

A gowne of thre ȝerdys, loke thou make comparison, Unto alle degrees dayly that passe thin astat; A purse withoutyn mony, a daggere for devoscyon; And there repref is of synne, loke thou make debat.

With syde lokkys I schrewe thin here to thi colere hangyng downe, To herborwe qweke bestys that tekele men onyth; An hey smal bonet for curyng of the crowne, And alle beggeres and pore pepyll have hem in dyspyte. Onto the grete othys and lycherye gyf thi delyte; To maynteyn thin astate lete brybory be present; And yf the lawe repreve the, say thou wylt ffyth, And gadere the a felachep after thin entent.

Loke thou sett not be precept nor be comawndement, Both sevyle and canon sett thou at nowth; Lette no membre of God but with othys be rent; Lo! thus this werd at this tyme to myn entent is browth. I, Sathan, with my felawus this werd hath sowth, And now we han it at houre plesawns; ffor synne is not shamfast, but boldnes hath bowth, That xal cause hem in helle to have inerytawns.

A beggerys dowtere to make gret purvyauns, To cownterfete a jentylwoman, dysgeysed as she can, And yf mony lakke, this is the newe chevesauns, With here prevy plesawns to gett it of sum man. Here colere splayed, and furryd with ermyn, calabere, or satan; A seyn to selle lechery to hem that wyl bey; And thei that wyl not by it, yet i-now xal thei han, And telle hem it is for love, she may it not deney.

I have browth ȝow newe namys, and wyl ȝe se why ffor synne is so plesaunt to eche mannys intent, ȝe xal kalle pride oneste, and nateralle kend lechory, And covetyse wysdam there tresure is present.

Wreth manhod, and envye callyd chastement; Seyse nere sessyon, lete perjery be chef; Glotenye rest, let abstynawnce beyn absent; And he that wole exorte the to vertu, put hem to repreff.

To rehers al my servauntes my matere is to breff, But alle these xal everyth the dyvicion eternal; Thow Cryst by his sotylté many materys meef, In evyrlastynge peyne with me dwellyn thei xal.

Remembre, oure servauntes, whoys sowlys ben mortalle, ffor I must remeffe for more materys to provyde; I am with ȝow at alle tymes whan ȝe to councel me calle, But for a short tyme myself I devoyde.

_Johannes Baptist._ I, John Baptyst, to ȝow thus prophesye, That on xal come aftyr me and not tary longe, In many folde more strengere than I, Of whose shon I am not worthy to lose the thonge. Wherefore I councel the ȝe reforme alle wronge, In ȝour concyens of the mortalle dedys sevyn, And for to do penawns loke that ȝe ffonge, ffor now xal come the kyngdham of hevyn.

The weys of oure lord cast ȝow to aray, And therin to walk loke ȝe be applyande; And make his pathys as ryth as ȝe may, Kepyng ryth forth, and be not declinande. Neyther to fele on ryth nor on lefte hande, But in the myddys purpose ȝow to holde, ffor that in alle wyse is most plesande, As ȝe xal here, whan I have tolde.

Of this wey for to make moralysacyon, Be the ryth syde ȝe xal undyrstonde mercy, And on the lefte syde lykkenyd dysperacion, And the patthe betwyn bothyn, that may not wry, Schal be hope and drede to walk in perfectly, Declynyng not to fele, for no maner nede; Grete cawsys I xal sheve ȝow why, That ȝe xal sowe the patthe of hope and drede.

On the mercy of God to meche ȝe xal not holde, As in this wyse behold what I mene; ffor to do synne be thou no more bolde, In trost that God wole mercyful bene. And yf be sensualyté, as it is ofte sene, Synnyst dedly, thou xalt not therfore dyspeyre; But therfore do penawns and confesse the clene, And of hevyn thou mayst trost to ben eyre.

The pathe that lyth to this blyssyd enherytawns, Is hope and drede copelyd be conjunccyon; Betwyx these tweyn may be no dysseverawns, ffor hope withowtyn drede is maner of presumpcion. And drede withowtyn hope is maner of dysperacion, So these tweyn must be knyt be on acorde. How ȝe xal aray the wey, I have made declaracion, Also the ryth patthis, aȝens the comyng of oure Lord.

_Here xal Annas shewyn hymself in his stage, be seyn after a busshop of the hoold lawe, in a skarlet gowne, and over that a blew tabbard furryd with whyte, and a mytere on his hed, after the hoold lawe; ij. doctorys stondyng by hym in furryd hodys, and on beforn hem with his staff of astat, and eche of hem on here hedys a furryd cappe, with a gret knop in the crowne, and on stondyng beforn as a Saraȝyn, the wiche xal be his masangere. Annas thus seyng_,

As a prelat am I properyd to provyde pes, And of Jewys jewge the lawe to fortefye, I, Annas, be my powere xal comawnde dowteles, The lawys of Moyses no man xal denye. Hoo excede my comawndement anon ȝe certefye, If any eretyk here reyn to me ȝe compleyn, For in me lyth the powere, alle trewthis to trye, And pryncypaly oure lawys tho must I susteyn.

ȝef I may aspey the contrary, no wheyle xal thei reyn, But anon to me be browth and stonde present Before her jewge, wiche xal not feyn, But aftere here trespace to gef hem jugement. Now, serys, for a prose herythe myn intent, There is on Jhesus of Naȝareth that oure lawys doth excede, Yf he procede thus we xal us alle repent, For oure lawys he dystroyt dayly with his dede.

Therefore be ȝour cowncel we must take hede, What is be to provyde or do in this case; ffor yf we let hym thus go and ferdere prosede, Ageyn Sesare and oure lawe we do trespace. _Primus Doctor._ Sere, this is myn avyse that ȝe xal do, Send to Cayphas for cowncel, knowe his intent; ffor yf Jhesu procé and thus forth go, Oure lawys xal be dystroyed, thes so we present.

_Secundus doctor._ Sere, remembre the gret charge that on ȝow is leyd, The lawe to ke[pe] whiche may not ffayle; Yf any defawth prevyd of ȝow be seyd, The Jewys with trewth wyl ȝow asayl.

Tak hed whath cownsayl may best prevayl, After Rewfyn and Layon I rede that ȝe sende, They arn temperal jewgys that knowyth the parayl, With ȝoure cosyn Cayphas this matere to amende.

_Annas._ Now surely this cowncel revyfe myn herte. ȝoure cowncel is best, as I can se,— Arfexe, in hast loke that thou styrte, And pray Cayphas my cosyn come speke with me.

To Rewfyn and Leon thu go also, And pray hem thei speke with me in hast; ffor a pryncipal matere that have to do, Wiche must be knowe, or this day be past.

_Arfexe._ My sovereyn at ȝour intent I xal gon, In al the hast that I kan hy; Onto Cayphas, Rewfyn, and Lyon, And charge ȝoure intent that thei xal ply.

_Here goth the masangere forth, and in the mene tyme Cayphas shewyth himself in his skafhald arayd lyche to Annas, savyng his tabbard xal be red furryd with white: ij. doctorys with him arayd with pellys aftyr the old gyse, and furryd cappys on here hedys. Cayphas thus seyng_,

As a primat most prendent I present here sensyble Buschopys of the lawe with al the cyrcumstawns; I, Cayphas, am jewge, with powerys possyble, To distroye alle erroris that in owre lawys make varyawns. Alle thynges I convey be reson and temperawnce, And alle materis possyble to me ben palpable; Of the lawe of Moyses I have a chef governawns, To severe ryth and wrong in me is termynable.

But ther is on Cryst that oure lawys is varyable, He perverte the pepyl with his prechyng ille; We must seke amene onto hym reprevable, ffor yf he procede, owre lawys he wyl spylle. We must take good cowncel in this case, Of the wisest of the lawe that kan the trewthe telle; Of the jewgys of pharasy and of my cosyn Annas, For yf he procede be prossesse oure lawys he wyl felle.

_Primus doctor._ Myn lord, plesyt ȝow to pardon me for to say, The blame in ȝow is, as we fynde; To lete Cryst contenue thus day be day, With his fals wichecraft the pepyl to blynde. He werkyth fals meraclis ageyns alle kende, And makyth oure pepyl to leve hem in; It is ȝour part to take hym and do hym bynde, And gyf hym jugement for his gret syn.

_Secundus doctor._ fforsothe, sere, of trewth this is the case, Onto oure lawe ȝe don oppressyon, That ȝe let Cryst from ȝou pace, And wyl not don on hym correxion. Let Annas knowe ȝour intencion, With prestys and jewges of the lawe, And do Cryst fforsake his fals oppynyon, Or into a prison lete hem be thrawe.

_Cayphas._ Wel, seres, ȝe xal se withinne short whyle, I xal correcte hym for his trespas, He xal no lenger oure pepyl begyle, Out of myn dawngere he xal not pas.

_Here comyth the masangere to Cayphas, and in the mene tyme Rewfyn and Lyon schewyn hem in the place, in ray tabardys furryd and ray hodys abouth, here neckys furryd, the masangere seyng_,

Myn reverent sovereyn, and it do ȝow plese, Sere Annas, my lord hath to ȝou sent, He prayt ȝou that ȝe xal not sese, Tyl that ȝe ben with hym present.

_Cayphas._ Sere, telle myn cosyn I xal not fayl, It was my purpose hym for to se, For serteyn materes that wyl prevayle, Thow he had notwth a sent to me. _Masangere._ I recomende me to ȝour hey degré, On more massagys I must wende. _Cayphas._ ffarewel, sere, and wel ȝe be, Gret wel my cosene and my ffrende.

_Here the masager metyth with the jewges, sayng_,

Heyl! jewgys of Jewry, of reson most prudent, Of my massage to ȝou I make relacion, My lord, sere Annas, hath for ȝou sent, To se his presens withowth delacion. _Rewfyn._ Sere, we are redy at his comawndement, To se sere Annas in his place; It was oure purpose and oure intent, To a be with hym withinne short space.

_Leyon._ We are ful glad his presence to se; Sere, telle him we xal come in hast; No delacion therin xal be, But to his presens hye us fast. _Masager._ I xal telle my lord this, as ȝe say, ȝe wyl fulfylle al his plesawns. _Rewfyn._ Sere, telle hym we xal make no delay, But come in hast at his instawns.

_Here the masangere comyth to Annas, thus seyng_,

My lord and it plese ȝou to have intellygens, Ser Cayphas comyth to ȝou in hast: Rewfyn and Lyon wyl se ȝour presens, And se ȝow here or this day be past. _Annas._ Sere, I kan the thank of thi dyligens, Now ageyn my cosyn I wole walk; Serys, folwyth me onto his presens, ffor of thes materys we must talk.

_Here Annas goth down to mete with Cayphas, and in the mene tyme thus seyng_,

_Cayphas._ Now onto Annas let us wende, Eche of us to knowe otheres intent: Many materes I have in mende, The wiche to hym I xal present. _Primus doctor._ Sere, of alle othere thyng remembre this case, Loke that Jhesus be put to schame. _Secundus doctor._ Whan we come present beforn Annas, Whe xal rehers alle his gret blame.

_Here the buschopys with here clerkes and the Phariseus mett, and the myd place, and ther xal be a lytil oratory with stolys and cusshonys clenly be-seyn, lyche as it were a cownsel-hous; Annas thus seyng_,

We come, ser Cayphas, and ȝe, jewgys alle, Now xal ȝe knowe alle myn entent; A wondyr case, serys, here is befalle, On wiche we must gyf jewgement. Lyst that we aftere the case repent, Of on Cryst that Goddys sone som doth hym calle; He shewyth meraclys and sythe present That he is prynce of prynces alle.

The pepyl so fast to hym doth falle, Be prevy menys, as we aspye; ȝyf he procede, son sen ȝe xalle, That oure lawys he wyl dystrye; It is oure part thus to deny: What is ȝour cowncelle in this cas?

_Cayphas._ Be reson the trewth here may we try, I cannot dem hym withouth trespace; Because he seyth in every a place, That he kyng of Jewys in every degré. Therfor he is fals, knowe wel the case, Sesar is kyng and non but he.

_Rewfyn._ He is an eretyk and a tretour bolde, To Sesare and to oure lawe sertayn; Bothe in word, and in werke, and ȝe beholde He is worthy to dey with mekyl peyn. _Leon._ The cawse that we been here present, To fortefye the lawe, and, trewth to say, Jhesus ful nere oure lawys hath shent, Therfore he is worthy for to day.

_Primus doctor Annas._ Seres, ȝe that ben rewelerys of the lawe, On Jhesu ȝe must gyf jugement, Let hym fyrst ben hangyn and drawe, And thanne his body in fyre be brent. _Secundus doctor Annas._ Now xal ȝe here the intent of me, Take Jhesu that worke us alle gret schame; Put hym to deth, let hym not fle, For than the comownys thei wyl ȝow blame.