_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 Latn 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 G.o.d, my G.o.d! 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 pa.s.sion brought to end, Father of heaven, into thy hende[401]
I do commend my soul.
_1st Torturer._ Let one p.r.i.c.k 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; G.o.de's son, hear me, Jesu!
For this trespa.s.s 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, G.o.d 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!