As whyte as snaw was his body, His face was like the son for bright, No man on mold[446] was so mighty Grathly[447] durst loke agans[448] that light, And that same lighte here se I now Shynyng on us, certayn, Wherethrughe truly I trow That we shalle sone pas fro this payn.

_Rybald._ Sen fyrst that h.e.l.le was mayde and I was put therin Siche sorow never ere I had, nor hard I siche a dyn,[449]

My hart begynnys to brade,[450] my wytt waxys thyn,[451]

I drede we can not be glad, thise saules mon fro us twyn;[452]

How, Belsabub! bynde thise boys, siche "Harow"[453]

was never hard in h.e.l.le.

_Belzabub._ Out, Rybald! thou rorest what is betyd? can thou oght telle?

_Rybald._ Whi, herys[454] thou not this ugly noyse?

Thise lurdans[455] that in lymbo dwelle, They make menyng[456] of many joyse, And muster myrthes theym emelle.[457]

_Belzabub._ Myrth? nay, nay! that poynt is past, More hope of helthe shalle they never have.

_Rybald._ They cry on Crist fulle fast, And says he shalle thaym save.

_Belzabub._ Yee, though he do not, I shalle, For thay ar sparyd[458] in specyalle s.p.a.ce, Whils I am prynce and pryncypalle, Thay shalle never pas out of this place;

Calle up Astarot[459] and Anaballe, To gyf us counselle in this case; Belle, Berith and Bellyalle[460]

To mar theym that siche mastry mase;[461]

Say to sir Satan oure syre, And byd hym bryng also Sir Lucyfer lufly of lyre.[462]

_Rybald._ Alle redy, lord, I go.

_Jesus._ _Attolite portas, principes vestras, et elevamini port aeternales, et introibit rex gloriae._[463]

_Rybald._ Out, harro,[464] out!--what deville is he That callys hym kyng over us alle?

Hark Belzabub, com ne,[465]

For hedusly[466] I hard hym calle.

_Belzabub._ Go spar the yates,[467] ylle mot thou the![468]

And set the waches[469] on the walle, If that brodelle[470] come ne With us ay won[471] he shalle:

And if he more calle or cry, To make us more debate, Lay on hym hardlly, And make hym go his gate.[472]

_David._ Nay, withe hym may ye not fyght, For he is king and conqueroure, And of so mekille myght, And styf in every stoure;[473]

Of hym commys alle this light That shynys in this bowre; He is fulle fers in fight, Worthi to wyn honoure.

_Belzabub._ Honoure! harsto,[474] harlot, for what dede Alle erthly men to me ar thralle,[475]

That lad that thou callys lord in lede[476]

He had never harbor, house, ne halle;

How, sir Sathanas, com nar And hark this cursid rowte!

_Sathanas._ The dewille you alle to har![477]

What ales the so to showte?[478]

And see, if I com nar, Thy brayn bot I bryst owte.[479]

_Belzabub._ Thou must com help to spar,[480]

We ar beseged abowte.

_Sathanas._ Besegyd aboute! whi, who durst be so bold For drede to make on us a fray?

_Belzabub._ It is the Jew that Judas sold For to be dede this othere day.

_Sathanas._ How, in tyme that tale was told, That trature travesses[481] us alle way; He shalle be here fulle hard in hold, Bot loke he pas not I the pray.

_Belzabub._ Pas! nay, nay, he wille not weynde[482]

From hens or it be war,[483]

He shapys hym for to sheynd[484]

Alle h.e.l.le e'er he go far.

_Sathanas._ Fy, faturs,[485] therof shalle he faylle, For alle his fare[486] I hym defy; I know his trantes[487] fro top to taylle,[488]

He lyffes by gawdes[489] and glory.

Therby he broght furthe of oure baylle[490]

The lathe[491] Lazare of Betany, Bot to the Jues I gaf counsaylle That thay shuld cause hym dy:

I entered there into Judas That forward[492] to fulfylle, Therfor his hyere[493] he has Alle wayes to won here stylle.[494]

_Rybald._ Sir Sathan, sen we here the say[495]

Thou and the Jues were at a.s.sent, And wote,[496] he wan the Lazare away That unto us was taken to tent,[497]

Hopys thou that thou mar hym may To muster[498] the malyce that he has ment?

For and he refe[499] us now oure pray We wille ye witt e'er he is went.

_Sathanas._ I byd the noght abaste[500]

Bot boldly make you bowne,[501]

Withe toyles that ye intraste,[502]

And dyng[503] that dastard downe.

_Jesus. Attolite portas, principes vestras, et elevamini portae aeternales, et introibit rex gloriae._[504]

_Rybald._ Outt, harro![505] what harlot is he That says his kyngdom shal be cryde?

_David._ That may thou in sawter se,[506]

For of this prynce thus err I saide;[507]

I saide that he shuld breke Youre barres and bandes by name,[508]

And of youre wareks take wreke;[509]

Now shall thou se the same.

_Jesus._ Ye prynces of h.e.l.le open youre yate, And let my folk furthe gone, A prynce of pea.s.se shalle enter therat Wheder ye wille or none.

_Rybald._ What art thou that spekys so?

_Jesus._ A kyng of blys that hight Jesus.