Everyman and Other Old Religious Plays, with an Introduction
A >> Anonymous >> Everyman and Other Old Religious Plays, with an Introduction_1st Torturer._ Yes, what we do full well we know.
_2nd Torturer._ Yes, that shall he find within a throw.
_3rd Torturer._ Now, with a mischance to his corse!
Wenys[319] he that we give any force[320]
What evil so ever he ail?
_4th Torturer._ For he would tarry us all day,
Of his death to make delay,
I tell you sans fail.
_1st Torturer._ Lift we this tree amongst us all.
_2nd Torturer._ Yea, and let it into the mortise fall
And that shall make him brest.[321]
_3rd Torturer._ Yea, and all to rive him, limb from limb.
_4th Torturer._ And it will break each joint in him;
Let see now, who does best?
_Mary._ Alas, the dole I dree![322] I droop, I go in dread.
Why hang'st thou, son, so high? my woe begins to breed,
All blemished is thy ble,[323] I see thy body bleed,
In the world, my son, we were never so woe, as now in weed.[324]
My food[325] that I have fed,
In life--longing thee led!
Full straight art thou bestead
Among these foemen fell:
Such sorrow for to see.
My dearest child, on thee,
Is more mourning to me
Than any tongue may tell.
Alas! thy holy head
Has not whereon to held[326]
Thy face with blood is red,
Was fair as flower in field;
How should I stand in stead![327]
To see my bairn thus bleed,
Beaten as blo[328] as lead.
And has no limb to wield?
Fastened both hands and feet,
With nalys[329] full unmeet,
His wounds all wringing wet.
Alas, my child, for care!
For all rent is thy hide,
I see on either side
Tears of blood down glide
Over all thy body bare.
Alas that ever I should bide, and see my feyr[330] thus fare!
_John._ Alas, for dule, my lady dear!
All for changed is thy cheer,
To see this prince without a peer,
Thus lapped all in woe;
He was thy food, thy fairest foine,[331]
Thy love, thy like,[332] thy lovesome son,
That high on tree thus hangs alone
With body black and blo,[333] alas!
To me and many mo,[334]
A good master he was.
But, lady, since it is his will
The prophecy to fulfil,
That mankind in sin not spill,[335]
For them to thole[336] the pain;
And with his death ransom to make,
As prophets before of him spake.
I counsel thee, thy grief to slake,
Thy weeping may not gain
In sorrow;
Our boot[337] he buys full bayne,[338]
Us all from bale to borrow.
_Mary._ Alas, thine eyes as crystal clear,
That shone as sun in sight,
That lovely were in lyere[339]
Lost they have their light,
And wax all fa'ed[340] in fear,
All dim then are they dight;
In pain thou hast no peer,
That is withouten pight.[341]
Sweet son, say me thy thought;
What wonders hast thou wrought
To be in pain thus brought
Thy blessed blood to blend?
Ah, son, think on my woe,
Why will thou from me go?
On earth is no man mo[342]
That may my mirth amend.
_John._ Comely lady, good and couth,[343]
Fain would I comfort thee;
Me mynnys[344] my master with mouth
Told unto his menyee.[345]
That he should suffer many a pain,
And die upon a tree,
And to the life rise up again,
Upon the third day should it be
Full right;
For thee, my lady sweet,
Stint awhile to greet,[346]
Our bale then will be beat,[347]
As he before has bight.[348]
_Mary._ My sorrow it is so sad,
No solace may me save:
Mourning makes me mad,
No hope of help I have.
I am redeless[349] and afraid
For fear that I should rave,
Nought may make me glad,
Till I be in my grave.
To death my dear is driven,
His robe is all to-riven,[350]
That by me was him given
And shapen with my sides.
These Jews and he have striven
That all the bale he bides.
Alas! my lamb so mild,
Why wilt thou from me go
Among these wolves wild,
That work on thee this woe?
For shame, who may thee shield,
For friends now hast thou foe.
Alas, my comely child,
Why will thou from me go?
Maidens, make your moan,
And weep, ye wives, every one
With me, most sad, in wone[351]
The child that born was best:
My heart is stiff as stone
That for no bale will brest.[352]
_John._ Ah, lady, well wot I,
Thy heart is full of care,
When thou thus openly
Seest thy child thus fare;
Love drives him rathly.
Himself he will not spare,
Us all from bale to buy,
Of bliss that are full bare
For sin;
My dear lady, therefore of mourning look thou blyn.[353]
_Mary._ "Alas!" may ever be my song,
While I may live in leyd,[354]
Methinks now that I live too long,
To see my bairn thus bleed.
Jews work with him all wrong,
Wherefore do they this deed?
Lo, so high have they him hung,
They let[355] for no dread;
Why so?
His foeman he is among.
No friend he has, but foe,
My frely food[356] from me must go
What shall become of me?
Thou art warpyd[357] all in woe,
And spread here on a tree
Full hie;[358]
I mourn, and so may mo[359]
That see this pain on thee.
_John._ Dear lady, well for me
If that I might comfort thee,
For the sorrow that I see
Shears my heart in sunder;
When that I see my master hang
With bitter pains and strong;
Was never wight with[360] wrong
Wrought so mickle wonder.
_Mary._ Alas, death, thou dwellest too long,
Why art thou hid from me?
Who bid thee to my child to gang?[361]
All black thou mak'st his ble;[362]
Now witterly,[363] thou workest wrong
The more I will wyte[364] thee.
But if thou wilt my heart now sting
That I may with him dee,[365]
And bide.
Sore sighing is my song. For pierced is his side!
Ah, death, what hast thou done?
With thee will I fare soon,
Since I had children none but one,
Best under sun or moon.
Friends I had full foyn[366]
That gars me greet[367] and groan
Full sore.
Good Lord, grant me my boon,
And let me live no more!
Gabriel! that art so good
Sometime thou did me greet,
And then I understood
Thy words that were so sweet.
But now they vex my mood,
For grace thou canst me hete,[368]
To bear all of my blood
A child our bale should beat[369]
With right.
Now hangs he here on rood,
Where is that thou me hight.[370]
All that thou of bliss
Hight me in that stede[371]
From mirth is far amiss.
And yet I trow thy rede[372]
Counsel me now of this,
My life how shall I lead
When from me gone is
He that was my head
On high?
My death, now, come it is:
My dear son, have mercy!
_Jesus._ My mother mild, change thou thy cheer,
Cease from thy sorrow and sighing sere,
It syttes[373] unto my heart full sore;
The sorrow is sharp, I suffer here;
But the dole thou drees,[374] my mother dear,
Me martyrs mickle more.
Thus wills my father I fare
To loose mankind from bands
His son will he not spare,
To loose that bond was e'er
Full fast in fiends' hands.
The first cause, mother, of my coming
Was for mankind miscarrying,
To save them sore I sought;
Therefore, mother make no mourning
Since mankind, through my dying,
May thus to bliss be brought.
Woman, weep thou right nought,
Take there, John, unto thy child,
Mankind must needs be bought;
And thou cast, cousin, in thy thought.[375]
John, lo, there, thy mother mild!
Blue and bloody thus am I beat,
Swongen with swepys[376] and all a-sweat,
Mankind, for thy misdeed.
For my love's sake when wouldst thou let,[377]
And thy heart sadly set,
Since I thus for thee have bled?
Such life for sooth, I lead,
That nothing may I more.
This I suffer for thy need,
To mark thee, man, thy meed!
Now thirst I wonder sore.
_1st Torturer._ Nought but hold thy peace,
Thou shalt have drink within a resse,[378]
Myself shall be thy knave;
Have here the draught that I thee hete,[379]
And I shall warrant it is not sweet
By all the good I have.
_2nd Torturer._ So, sir, say now all your will,
For if ye could have holden you still
Ye had not had this brade.[380]
_3rd Torturer._ Thou would'st all gate[381] be King of Jews,
But by this I trow thou rues
All that thou has said.
_4th Torturer._ He has him rused of great prophes[382]
That he should make us tempylles
And make it clean fall down;
And yet he said he should it raise
As well as it was within three days,
He lies, that wot we all;
And for his lies in great despite
We will divide his clothing tyte[383]
Save he can more of art.[384]
_1st Torturer._ Yes, as ever might I thrive,
Soon will we this mantle rive,
And each man take his part.
_2nd Torturer._ How, wouldst thou we share this cloth?
_3rd Torturer._ Nay, forsooth, that were I loth,
For then it were all gate[385] spoilt.
But assent thou to my saw,[386]
And let us all cut draw[387]
And then is none begylt.[388]
_2nd Torturer._ Howe'er befall, now I draw,
This is mine by common law,
Say not there again.
_1st Torturer._ Now since it may no better be,
Chevithe thee with it for me;
Methinks thou art full fain.
_2nd Torturer._ How, fellows, see ye not yon scraw?[389]
It is written yonder within a thraw,
Now since that we drew lot.
_3rd Torturer._ There is no man that is alive,
Unless Pilate, as I might thrive
That durst it there have put.
_4th Torturer._ Go we fast, and let us look
What is written on yon book
And what it may be, mean.
_1st Torturer._ All the more I look thereon,
All the more I think I fon;[390]
All is not worth a bean.
_2nd Torturer._ Yes for sooth, methinks I see
Thereon written language three
Hebrew and Latyn
And Greek methinks written thereon,
For it is hard for to expoun.
_3rd Torturer._ Thou read, by Apollyon!
_4th Torturer._ Yea, as I am a true knight.
I am the best Latin wright
Of this company;
I will go withouten delay
And tell you what it is to say.
Behold, sirs, verily,
Yonder is written--Jesus of Nazarene
He is King of Jews, I ween.
_1st Torturer._ Ah, that is written wrong.
_2nd Torturer._ He calls himself so, but he is none.
_3rd Torturer._ Go we to Pilate and make our moan,
Have done, and dwell not long. [_They go to Pilate._
Pilate, yonder is a false table,
Thereon is written naught but fable,
Of Jews he is not king,
He calls him so, but he not is,
It is falsely written, I wis,
This is a wrong-wise thing.
_Pilate._ Boys, I say, what melle ye yon?[391]
As it is written shall it be now,
I say certain
_Quod scriptum scripsi_,[392]
That same wrote I,
What gadlyng[393] grumbles there again.
_4th Torturer._ Since that he is a man of law
He must needs have his will;
I trow he had not written that saw
Without some proper skill.
_1st Torturer._ Yea, let it hang above his head
It shall not save him from the dead
Naught that he can write.
_2nd Torturer._ Now ill a hale[394] was he born!
_3rd Torturer._ My faith, I tell his life is lorn
He shall be slain as tyte.[395]
If thou be Christ, as men thee call
Come down now among us all
And thole[396] not these missays.[397]
_4th Torturer._ Yea, and help myself that we may see
And we shall all believe in thee,
Whatsoever thou says.
_1st Torturer._ He calls himself good of might,
But I would see him be so wight[398]
To do such a deed.
He raised Lazare out of his delf[399]
But he cannot help himself
Now in his great need.
_Jesus._ Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani!
My God, my God! wherefor and why
Hast thou forsaken me?
_2nd Torturer._ How, hear ye not as well as I
How he can upon Eli cry
Upon this wise?
_3rd Torturer._ Yea, there is no Eli in this country
Shall deliver him from this meneye[400]
No, in no wise.
_4th Torturer._ I warrant you now at the last
That he shall soon yield the ghost
For bursten is his gall.
_Jesus._ Now is my passion brought to end,
Father of heaven, into thy hende[401]
I do commend my soul.
_1st Torturer._ Let one prick him with a spear,
And if it should do him no dere[402]
Then is his life near past.
_2nd Torturer._ This blind knight may best do that.
_Longeus._ Gar me not do, save I wit what.
_3rd Torturer._ Naught, but strike up fast.
_Longeus._ Ah! Lord, what may this be?
Once I was blind, now I can see;
Gode's son, hear me, Jesu!
For this trespass on me thou rue[403]
For, Lord, other men me gart[404]
That I thee struck unto the heart,
I see thou hangest here on high,
And dies to fulfil the prophecy.
_4th Torturer._ Go we hence, and leave him here
For I shall be his bail, this year
He feels now no more pain;
For Eli, ne for none other man
All the good that ever he won
Gets not his life again. [_Exeunt Torturers._
_Joseph._ Alas, alas, and well a way!
That ever I should abide this day
To see my master dead;
Thus wickedly as he is shent,
With so bitter tornament[405]
Thro' the false Jews' red.[406]
Nicodeme, I would we yede[407]
To Sir Pilate, if we might spede
His body for to crave;
I will strive with all my might
For my service to ask that knight,
His body for to grave.[408]
_Nicodemus._ Joseph, I will wend with thee
For to do what is in me
For that body to pray;
For our good-will and our travail
I hope that it may us avail
Hereafterward some day.
_Joseph._ Sir Pilate, God thee save!
Grant me what I crave
If that it be thy will.
_Pilate._ Welcome, Joseph, might thou be,
What so thou askest, I grant it thee
So that it be skill.[409]
_Joseph._ For my long service, I thee pray,
Grant me the body, say me not nay
Of Jesus dead on rood.
_Pilate._ I grant it well if he dead be,
Good leave shalt thou have of me.
Do with him what thou think good.
_Joseph._ Gramercy, sir, of your good grace
That you did grant me in this place.
Go we our way:
Nicodeme, come me forth with,
For I myself shall be the smith
The nails out for to dray.[410]
_Nicodemus._ Joseph, I am ready here
To go with thee with full good cheer
To help with all my might.
Pull forth the nails on either side
And I shall hold him up this tide;
Ah, Lord, how art thou dight!
[_They take down the body._
_Joseph._ Help now, fellow, with all thy might,
That he be wounden[411] and well dight,
And lay him on this bier:
Bear we him forth into the kirk
To the tomb that I gar'd[412] work
Since full many a year.
_Nicodemus._ It shall be so, withouten nay,
He that died on Good Friday,
And crowned was with thorn;
Save you all that now here be
That Lord that thus would dee,
And rose on Pasche[413] morn.
THE CORNISH MYSTERY-PLAY OF THE THREE MARIES
CHARACTERS
The Gardener--Jesus Christ
The Three Maries--
Mary Magdalene
Mary, Mother of James
Mary Salome
First Angel
Second Angel
THE MYSTERY OF THE THREE MARIES
[_Enter Mary Magdalene, and Mary, mother of James._]
_Mary Magdalene._ What shall I do, alas!
My Lord went to the tomb,
To-day is the third day;
Go now see indeed
If he comes and rises,
As he said to me truly.
_Mary, Mother of James._ I will go and see
The body _of him_ who redeemed me with pain,
If it be risen again.
Great comfort he was to us;
That we should have seen his death!
Alas! alas!
[_Enter Mary Salome_
_Mary Salome._ The third day is to-day;
If the body of Christ be risen,
Go to see.
For the torment which he had
Is ever in my heart;
This sorrow does not leave me.
[_Here she shall meet the other Maries._
_Mary Magdalene._ Women, joy to ye!
And Mary, _mother_ of James,
And Salome also.
Sorrow is in my heart, alas!
If the body of God himself is gone,
Where may it be found?
_Mary, Mother of James._ So it is with me,
Much and great torment for him;
If he will not, through his grace,
Help me in a short time,
My heart in me will break
Very really through troubles.
_Mary Salome._ So with me is sorrow
May the Lord see my state
After him.
As he is head of sovereignty,
I believe that out of the tomb
To-day he will rise.
_Mary Magdalene._ Oh! let us hasten at once,
For the stone is raised
From the tomb.
Lord, how will it be this night,
If I know not where goes
The head of royalty?
_Mary, Mother of James._ And too long we have stayed,
My Lord is gone his way
Out of the tomb, surely.
Alas! my heart is sick;
I know not indeed if I shall see him,
Who is very God.
_Mary Salome._ I know truly, and I believe it,
That he is risen up
In this day.
How will it be to us now,
That we find not our Lord?
Alas! woe! woe!
[_They sing._
[_The Dirge._]
_Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call,
Our Lord is dead that bought us all._
_Mary Magdalene._ Alas! it is through sorrows,
My sweet Lord is dead
Who was crucified.
[_Mary Magdalene weeps at the tomb._
He bore, without complaining,
Much pain on his dear body,
For the people of the world
_Mary, Mother of James._ I cannot see the form
Of him on any side;
Alas! woe is me!
I would like to speak with him,
If it were his will,
Very seriously.
_Mary Salome._ There is to me sharp longing
In my heart always,
And sorrow;
Alas! my Lord Jesus,
For thou art full of virtue,
All mighty.
[_The Dirge._]
_Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call,
Our Lord is dead that bought us all._
_Mary Magdalene._ Jesus Christ, Lord of Heaven,
O hear now our voice;
Who believes not in thee, miserable he!
He will not be saved.
When I think of his Passion,
There is not any joy in my heart;
Alas! that I cannot at once
Speak to thee.
_Mary, Mother of James._ Gone he is to another land,
And with him many angels;
Alas! now for grief
I am sorrowful.
I pray thee, Lord of grace,
To send a messenger to us,
That something we may be knowing
How it is to thee.
_Mary Salome._ O Jesus, full of mercy,
Do think of us;
To thy kingdom when we come,
Hear our voice.
For desire I become very sick,
I cannot stand on my standing,
Alas! now what shall I do?
O Lord of heaven!
[_The Dirge._]
_Alas! mourning I sing, mourning I call,
Our Lord is dead, that bought us all._
_1st Angel._ I know whom ye seek:
Jesus is not here,
For he is risen
To life in very earnest,
As I tell you,
Like as he is worthy.
_Mary Magdalene._ O angel, now tell me,
The body (none, equal to him),
To what place is it gone?
Like as his grace is great,
Joy to me, with my eyes
To see him yet.
_2nd Angel._ O Mary, go forthwith,
Say to his disciples
And to Peter,
Like as he promised to them
He will go to Galilee,
Very truly without doubt.
_Mary, Mother of James._ Now he is risen again indeed,
Jesus our Saviour,
Gone from the tomb.
Worship to him always;
He is Lord of heaven and earth,
Head of sovereignty.
_Mary Salome._ Hence go we to the city,
And let us say in every place
As we have seen:
That Jesus is risen,
And from the tomb forth gone,
To heaven really.
_Mary Magdalene._ Never to the city shall I go,
If I do find not my Lord,
Who was on the cross tree.
O Jesus, King of grace,
Joy to me once to see thee,
Amen, amen.
_Mary, Mother of James._ Mary, be with thee
All the blessings of women,
And the blessing of Jesus Son of grace;
Of full heart I pray him,
Joy and grace always good to do
To us now, from God the Father.
_Mary Magdalene._ My blessing on ye also,
From Christ, as he is gone to the tomb,
Joy to ye to do well to-day.
Lord, give me the grace
Once to see thy face,
If it be thy will with thee.
_Mary Salome._ Amen, amen, let us seek
Christ, who redeemed us in pain,
With his flesh and with his blood;
Much pain he suffered,
For love of the people of the world,
As he is the King of power.
[_Here Mary, the mother of James, and Salome retire from the tomb, and
sit down a little way from it._
_Mary Magdalene._ He who made heaven, . as he is gone to the tomb,
After him . great is my desire.
Christ, hear my voice, . I pray also
That thou be with me . at my end.
Lord Jesus, . give me the grace,
As I may be worthy . to find a meeting,
With thee to-day, . in some sure place,
That I may have a view . and sight of thy face.
As thou art Creator . of heaven and earth,
And a Redeemer . to us always,
Christ my Saviour, . hear, if it regards thee
Disclose to me, . what I so much desire.
Through great longing . I am quite weary,
And my body also, . bones and back.
Where is there to-night . any man who knows
Where I may yet find . Christ full of sorrow.
[_She goes to the garden._
[_Enter the Gardener._
_Gardener_ (_Jesus_). O woeful woman, . where goest thou?
For grief thou prayest, . cry out thou dost.
Weep not nor shriek, . he whom thou seekest
Thou didst dry his feet . with thy two plaits.
_Mary Magdalene._ Good lord, . if thou hast chanced to see
Christ my Saviour, . where is he truly?
To see him . I give thee my land;
Jesus, Son of grace, . hear my desire.
_Gardener._ O Mary, . as I know thee to be
Within this world, . one of his blood,
If thou shouldst see him . before thee,
Couldst thou . know him?
_Mary Magdalene._ Well I do, . know the form
Of the son of Mary, . named Jesus;
Since I see him not . in any place,
I feel sorrow; . else I would not sing "alas!"
[_And then Jesus shall shew his side to Mary Magdalene, and say:_
_Gardener._ Mary, see . my five wounds,
Believe me truly . to be risen;
To thee I give thanks . for thy desire,
Joy in the land . there shall be truly.
_Mary Magdalene._ O dear Lord, . who wast on the cross tree,
To me it becomes not . to kiss thy head.
I would pray thee . let me dare
Now to kiss . once thy feet.
[_Woman, touch me not!_]
_Gardener._ O woeful woman, . touch me not near,
No, it will not serve, . nor be for gain;
The time is not come;
Until I go . to heaven to my Father,
And I will return . again to my country,--
To speak with thee.
_Mary Magdalene._ Christ, hear my voice, . say the hour
That thou comest from heaven . again to earth
To speak with us.
Thy disciples . are very sad,
And the Jews . with violence always
Are round about them.
_Gardener._ O Mary, . tell them,
Truly I go . to Galilee,
As I said;
And besides that, . bear in memory to speak
Good comfort . to Peter by me;
Much he is loved.
THE CORNISH MYSTERY-PLAY OF MARY MAGDALENE
AND HOW SHE BROUGHT THE NEWS OF THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD JESUS
CHRIST TO THE APOSTLES
CHARACTERS
Jesus
Mary Magdalene
Thomas
Peter
Andrew
John
James the Greater
James the Less
Matthew
Philip
Simon
Judah
THE MYSTERY OF MARY MAGDALENE AND THE APOSTLES
[_Now Mary comes to the apostles, and says to them in Galilee:_
_Mary Magdalene._ Now, O apostles,
I will tell you news:
Jesus is risen from the tomb;
I saw him lately,
I spoke to him also,
I looked on his wounds,
Pitiful it was to see them;
To the world they bring healing.
_Thomas._ Silence, woman, with thy tales,
And speak truth, as I pray thee;
Christ who was cruelly slain,
To be alive I will not believe;
Waste no more words,
For lies I do not love;
Our Lord is dead;
Alas! I tell the truth.
_Mary Magdalene._ I speak true, Thomas,
And I, though poor, will prove it.
Lately I saw him,--
The Lord (none equal to him),
And by me he sent,
I swear to ye, as ye may know,
Like as he promised;
He named to me none but Peter.
_Thomas._ Silence, and speak not, woman!
I pray thee, mockery with us
Now do not make;
Stout though Castle Maudlen be,
If thou mock, I will break thy head
About thee from above.
_Mary Magdalene._ I will not be silent from fear
I will prove it true what I say
Before _we_ separate.
Like as he is King of heaven,
He is with God the Father,
On his right side.
_Peter._ Ah! Jesus Christ, happy am I
To hear that he is risen
Out of the tomb;
For I know very well
That he is son to Mary,
And God likewise.
_Thomas._ Peter, peace, and leave thy mockery,
For idle it is to say
That he is risen.
Never can, for the world,
Any man be raised
After dying.
_James the Greater._ Thomas, very well it may be;
The Son of God will rise
When he will;
For Jesus, Son of Mary,
He made heaven, and this world,
And every thing that was not.
_Thomas._ O James, it is no use for thee;
A man who is dead certainly
Does not live again.
Foolish idleness, not to leave it,
But to go to assert
A thing of no benefit.
_John._ O Thomas, thou art a fool;
That is the belief of all:
Jesus Christ after dying,
To be put into the ground;
After that to rise again
At the end of three days, and to stand up.
_Thomas._ O John, be not absurd,
For my wonder,--it is great,
That thou shouldst speak folly.
Christ through sufferings was
Indeed put to death on the cross tree;
My curse on him that did it!
_Bartholomew._ Thomas, believe me, though I am gray;
Man could not have power
To put him to death.
For us he would die,
And go into the tomb, and rise,
To carry all Christians to heaven.
_Thomas._ O Bartte, thou art mad
And fond beyond all men
Who are fools.
God, without dying, might have
Caused all men to be saved,
Over all the world.
_Matthew._ That is true, he could
Destroy every thing again,
That it be no more.
But nevertheless for us,
Christ wished to go into the ground,
And to live again.
_Thomas._ And thou art a fool, Matthew;
If thou art wise thou wilt be silent,
And withdraw.
He lives not, through all thy words,
When I saw him, he was dead
On the cross tree.
_Philip._ Alas! to be so foolish!
Crooked, wilt thou not believe
The Head of sovereignty;
And he saying to us
That after dying he would rise
Out of the tomb?
_Thomas._ Sit silent, wilt thou, Philip,
For in faith thou swearest wrongly
About him.
Christ's limbs were bruised,
And on his body a thousand wounds;
Alas! he is not risen.
_James the Greater._ O do not say so,
That Jesus the best Lord
Cannot rise,
For very truly he is risen;
To be his servant thou art not worthy,
It appears well.