Chapter V: Prologue (2)

_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 changèd is thy cheer, To see this prince without a peer, Thus lappéd 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 wolvés 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 prophës[382] That he should make us tempyllës 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 Latýn 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 crownèd was with thorn; Save you all that now here be That Lord that thus would dee, And rose on Paschë[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.

_Thomas._ O thou James, if he were alive His servant I would be Very joyfully. But he is not alive, leave off thy noise; The thorn even into his brain, Went to his head.

_Simon._ Though the thorn went into his head, And through his heart and side The spear was seen, Nevertheless need is to believe Jesus Christ will rise again, As he is true God.

_Thomas._ O Simon, do not speak a word; Never, never, unhappily, He has not risen again. But if it were so, Together we should all be Exceedingly at ease.

_Judah._ Sir Thomas, it is so, He has risen again to-day Out of the tomb. For if he should not rise again, Never with us would there be Joy without end.

_Thomas._ O Judah, Judah, leave thy belief; His heart torn in pieces I saw. Notwithstanding what any man may say, That same body will remain; It has not risen.

_Andrew._ Peace, Thomas, and say not a word; Very truly our dear Lord Is risen again. Surely too much thou hast disbelieved, For Mary has spoken With him to-day.

_Thomas._ Thou art a fool, Andrew; The girl has told a lie, Do not think otherwise. That he ever rose again I will not believe it. As long as I am alive.

_Mary Magdalene._ I have not said an untrue word; For to me all his wounds He shewed. And to that I will Bear witness at all times, That the tale is true.

[_Here let Thomas and Mary Magdalene go down._

_Thomas._ Notwithstanding vain words, I do not believe thee; thou failest To make me believe. Though thou dost chatter so much, Any thing from thee regards me not, Though thou be busy.

_Mary Magdalene._ I tell thee the truth; The angel said to us, Surely at the tomb, That he was risen up, And was gone to the bright heaven, With many angels.

_Thomas._ Peace, chattering woman, say no more; I will not believe thee, _That_ is gone to heaven. The body, which I saw dead,-- Great are my anxieties After it.

_Mary Magdalene._ Surely Mary, mother of James, And Mary Salome, Will witness to me; Like as I saw, So I tell the tale to thee; Do believe it.

_Thomas._ Never can it go into my heart, That the body dead before us Should rise again; When I think on his passion, Grief takes me immediately For him, woe is me!

_Mary Magdalene._ There is to me wonder of thee, That thy heart is so hard, Thou believest it not. If thou doest not believe it, Never shalt thou come to the joy Surely which is in heaven.

_Thomas._ Silence thou, now, for shame; With Jesus thou hast no secrets: Surely not! I believe Thou art a sinner, without a mistake; The greatest that was in the country By every body thou wast called.

_Mary Magdalene._ I have been a sinner; I have sinned wondrous much; On Jesus I cried, That he would forgive me my trespass; And he said to me, Thy sin is forgiven to thee, Through thy faith thou art saved: Now no more, do not sin. Thomas, thou art very stupid, Because thou wilt not believe The Lord to have risen Easter-day morning. Who believes not shall not be saved, Nor with God shall he dwell, And for that, I pray thee, Believe in time.

* * * * *

_Thomas._ Hold thy prate, nor be busy, For I will not believe thee; The body was seen by me Fastened on the cross with nails; With a sharp spear they pierced him, So that it passed through the heart; To the earth the blood fell, And made him soon dead. That body cannot live, Nor rise up again, Surely, thou woman. There is not any man of this world Who shall make me now Believe otherwise.

_Mary Magdalene._ Thomas, thou art mad, And in madness lost; Evil it is with me now. I advise thee believe, And if thou dost not, seriously, Thou shalt have sharp repentance.

_Thomas._ With you since there is no peace, From you I will go My ways in the country. Are ye not now fools? So God help me, I love not lies.

[_Then Jesus comes to the apostles, and says (in Galilee, the doors being closed, he kisses them_):

_Jesus._ The peace of God, O apostles! I, Christ, to rise from the tomb, Believe well; For certainly as many as believe it, And are faithfully baptized, Shall be saved.

_Peter._ O dear Lord, happy is my lot To see thee risen again, Jesus, though I denied thee. Abundant mercy, I pray, As the Jews are always Here laying snares for us. Jesus, Lord of heaven and earth, And Saviour to us also, Pardon me my trespass, For great are my sorrows. For sharp repentance falls on me For denying thee: now Mercy I pray at all times, Certainly, with full heart.

_Jesus._ Peter, pardon thou shalt get, For thy repentance is perfect, Through the Holy Ghost. Like as I redeemed thee dearly, Strengthen also thy brethren In full belief.

_John._ O Lord, I am glad That thou wouldst come with us Hither, for our joy; That I will say likewise, We are, through great longing, After thee pining.

_Jesus._ From you I go to my country; At the right side of God the Father, I shall sit. To strengthen you in belief, To you the comfort of the Holy Ghost I shall send.

_James the Greater._ Lord, it is wonderful; When thou comest, Jesus powerful, To look at us, And to speak peace to us, Though they were fast, thou didst open Our doors.

[_Here Jesus goes away from the apostles._

He is the Lord of power, And he has purchased with his blood The people of the world; That Jesus Christ is risen again,-- A day is coming that shall tell All them that do believe it not!

THE WAKEFIELD PAGEANT OF THE HARROWING OF HELL

OR

EXTRACTION OF SOULS FROM HELL

CHARACTERS

Jesus Adam Eve Simeon John the Baptist Moses Esaias David Ribald Beelzebub Sathanas

THE HARROWING OF HELL

EXTRACTIO ANIMARUM

AB INFERNO

[_The Extraction of Souls from Hell._]

_Jesus._ My fader[414] me from blys has send Till's erthe for mankynde sake, Adam mys[415] for to amend, My deth nede must I take:

I dwellyd ther thyrty yeres and two, And som dele more, the sothe to say,[416] In anger, pyne, and mekylle wo, I dyde on cros this day.

Therefor tille helle now wille I go, To chalange[417] that is myne, Adam, Eve, and othere mo, Thay shalle no longer dwelle in pyne;

The feynde[418] theym wan withe trayn,[419] Thrughe fraude of earthly fode,[420] I have theym boght agan With shedyng of my blode.

And now I wille that stede[421] restore, Whiche the feynde felle from for syn, Som tokyn wille I send before, Withe myrthe to gar[422] thare gammes begyn.

A light I wille thay have, To know I wille com sone; My body shalle abyde in grave Tille alle this dede be done.

_Adam._ My brether, herkyn unto me here, More hope of helth never we had, Four thousand and six hundred yere Have we bene in darknes stad;[423]

Now se I tokyns of solace sere,[424] A gloryous gleme to make us glad, Wherthrughe I hope that help is nere, That sone shalle slake[425] oure sorrowes sad.

_Eve._ Adam, my husband heynd,[426] This menys solace certan, Siche lighte can on us leynd[427] In paradyse fulle playn.

_Isaias._ Adam, thrugh thi syn Here were we put to dwelle, This wykyd place within, The name of it is helle;

Here paynes shalle never blyn[428] That wykyd ar and felle, Love, that lord, withe wyn His lyfe for us wold selle.

[_Et cantent omnes "Salvator mundi" primum versum._[429]

Adam, thou welle understand, I am Isaias, so Crist me kende,[430] I spake of folk in darknes walkand,[431] I saide a light shuld on them lende;

This light is alle from Crist commande, That he tille us has hethir sende, Thus is my poynt proved in hand, As I before to fold[432] it kende.

_Simeon._ So may I telle of farlys feylle,[433] For in the tempylle his freyndes me fande, Me thoght dayntethe[434] with hym to deylle, I halsyd[435] hym homely with my hand,

I saide, Lord, let thi servandes leylle[436] Pas in peasse to lyf lastande,[437] Now that myn eeyn has sene thyn hele[438] No longer lyst[439] I lyf in lande.

This light thou has purvayde For theym that lyf in lede,[440] That I before of the have saide I se it is fulfillyd in dede.

_Johannes Baptista._ As a voice cryand I kend[441] The wayes of Crist, as I welle can, I baptisid hym with bothe myn hende In the water of flume[442] Jordan;

The Holy Gost from heven discende As a white dowfe downe on me than, The Fader voyce, oure myrthes to amende, Was made to me lyke as a man;[443]

"Yond is my son," he saide, "And whiche pleasses me fulle welle," His light is on us layde, And commys oure karys to kele.[444]

_Moyses._ Now this same nyght lernyng have I, To me, Moyses, he shewid his myght, And also to another one, Hely,[445] Where we stud on a hille on hyght,

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 helle 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 helle.

_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 space, 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 portœ æternales,
et introibit rex gloriæ._[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 helle 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 assent, 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 portæ æternales, et introibit rex gloriæ._[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 helle open youre yate, And let my folk furthe gone, A prynce of peasse shalle enter therat Wheder ye wille or none.

_Rybald._ What art thou that spekys so?

_Jesus._ A kyng of blys that hight Jesus.

_Rybald._ Yee hens fast I red[510] thou go, And melle[511] the not with us.

_Belzabub._ Oure yates[512] I trow wille last, Thay ar so strong I weyn,[513] Bot if oure barres brast, For the, thay shalle not twyn.[514]

_Jesus._ This stede[515] shalle stande no longer stokyn;[516] Open up and let my pepille pas.

_Rybald._ Out, harro![517] oure baylle is brokyn,[518] And brusten ar alle oure bandes of bras.

_Belzabub._ Harro! oure yates begyn to crak, In sonder, I trow, thay go, And helle, I trow, wille all to-shak; Alas, what I am wo![519]

_Rybald._ Lymbo is lorn, alas! Sir Sathanas, com up! This wark is wars[520] than it was.

_Sathanas._ Yee, hangyd be thou on a cruke;[521]

Thefys, I bad ye shuld be bowne[522] If he maide mastres[523] more To dyng[524] that dastard downe, Sett[525] hym bothe sad and sore.

_Belzabub._ "So sett hym sore" that is sone saide. Com thou thi self and serve hym so; We may not abyde his bytter bradye,[526] He wold us mar and we were mo.[527]

_Sathanas._ Fy, fature![528] wherfore were ye flayd?[529] Have ye no force to flyt hym fro? Loke in haste my gere be grayd,[530] My self shalle to that gadlyng go.[531]

How, thou belamy, abyde,[532] Withe alle thi boste and beyr,[533] And telle me in this tyde What mastres[523] thou makes here.

_Jesus._ I make no mastry bot for myne, I wille theym save, that shalle the sow, Thou has no powere theym to pyne,[534] Bot in my pryson for thare prow[535]

Here have thay sojornyd,--not as thyne, Bot in thi wayrd,[536] thou wote as how.

_Sathanas._ Why, where has thou hene ay syn[537] That never wold neghe[538] theym nere e'er now?

_Jesus._ Now is the tyme certan My Fader ordand herfor,[539] That they shuld pas fro payn In blys to dwelle for ever more.

_Sathanas._ Thy fader knew I welle by syght, He was a wright his meett to wyn,[540] Mary, me mynnys,[541] thi moder hight, The utmast ende of alle thy kyn:

Say who made the so mekille[542] of myght?

_Jesus._ Thou wykyd feynde lett be thi dy[n], My Fader wonnes[543] in heven on hight, In blys that never more shalle blyn:[544] I am his oonly son his forward[545] to fulfylle, Togeder wille we won, in sonder when we wylle.

_Sathanas._ Goddes son! nay, then myght thou be glad For no catelle thurt the crave;[546] Bot thou has lyffed ay lyke a lad, In sorow, and as a sympille[547] knave.

_Jesus._ That was for the hartly[548] luf I had Unto man's saulle, it for to save, And for to make thee masyd[549] and mad, And for that reson rufully to rafe.[550]

My Godhede here I hyd In Mary, moder myne, Where it shalle never be kyd[551] To the, ne none of thyne.[552]

_Sathanas._ How now? this wold I were told in towne, Thou says God is thi syre; I shalle the prove by good reson Thou moyttes[553] as man dos into myre.

To breke thi byddyng they were fulle bowne,[554] And soon they wroght at my desyre, From paradise thou putt thym downe, In helle here to have thare hyre;[555]

And thou thi self, by day and nyght, Taght[556] ever alle men emang, Ever to do reson and right, And here thou wyrkys[557] alle wrang.

_Jesus._ I wyrk no wrang, that shalle thou wytt.[558] If I my men fro wo wille wyn;[559] My prophettes playnly prechyd it, Alle the noytys[560] that I begyn;

They saide that I shud be that ilke In helle where I shud entre in, To save my servandes fro that pytt Where dampynyd saullys[561] shalle syt for syn.

And ilke true prophete taylle[562] Shalle be fulfillid in me; I have thaym boght fro baylle,[563] In blis now shalle thay be.

_Sathanas._ Now since thou list to legge the lawes[564] Thou shalbe tenyd or we twyn,[565] For those that thou to witnes drawes Fulle even agans the shalle begyn;

As Salaman saide in his sawes,[566] Who that ones commys helle within He shalle never owte, as clerkes knawes Therfor, belamy, let be thy dyn.[567] Job thi servande also In his tyme can telle That nawder freynde nor fo Shalle fynde relese in helle.[568]

_Jesus._ He sayde fulle soythe, that shalle thou se, In helle shalbe no relese, Bot of that place then ment he Where synfulle care shalle ever encrese.

In that baylle ay shalle thou be, Where sorrowes seyr shalle never sesse[569] And my folk that wer most fre[570] Shalle pas unto the place of peasse;

For thay were here with my wille, And so thay shalle furthe weynde,[571] Thou shalle thi self fulfylle, Ever wo withoutten ende.

_Sathanas._ Whi, and wille thou take theym alle me fro?[572] Then thynk me[573] thou ar unkynde; Nay, I pray the do not so, Umthynke[574] the better in thy mynde,

Or els let me with the go; I pray the leyfe me not behynde.

_Jesus._ Nay, tratur, thou shalle won in wo,[575] And tille a stake[576] I shalle the bynde.

_Sathanas._ Now here I how thou menys[577] emang With mesure and malyce for to melle,[578] Bot sen thou says it shalbe lang, Yit som let alle wayes with us dwelle.

_Jesus._ Yis, witt thou welle, els were greatt wrang, Thou shalle have Caym[579] that slo Abelle, And alle that hastes theym self to hang, As dyd Judas and Architophelle; And Daton and Abaron and alle of thare assent,[580] Cursyd tyranttes ever ilkon[581] that me and myn tormente.

And alle that wille not lere[582] my law That I have left in land for new[583] That makes my commyng knaw,[584] And alle my sacramentes persew;

My deth, my rysyng, red by raw,[585] Who trow thaym not thay ar untrewe, Unto my dome[586] I shalle theym draw, And juge thaym wars[587] then any Jew. And thay that lyst to lere my law and lyf therby Shalle never have harmes here, bot welth as is worthy.

_Sathanas._ Now here my hand, I hold me payde, Thise poyntes ar playnly for my prow,[588] If this be trew as thou has saide We shalle have mo then we have now;

Thise lawes that thou has late here laide I shalle thym lere not to alow,[589] If thay myn take[590] thay ar betraide, And I shalle turne thym tytte I trow.[591]

I shalle walk eest, I shalle walk west, And gar theym wyrk welle war.[592]

_Jesus._ Nay feynde, thou shalbe feste,[593] That thou shalle flyt no far.[594]

_Sathanas._ Feste? fy! that were a wykyd treson! Belamy, thou shalle be smytt.[595]

_Jesus._ Deville, I commaunde the to go downe Into thi sete where thou shalle syt.

_Sathanas._ Alas! for doylle[596] and care, I synk into helle pyt.

_Rybald._ Sir Sathanas, so saide I are,[597] Now shalle thou have a fytt.

_Jesus._ Com now furthe, my childer alle, I forgyf you youre mys;[598] Withe me now go ye shalle To joy and endles blys.

_Adam._ Lord, thou art fulle mekylle of myght,[599] That mekys thi self on this manere, To help us alle as thou had us hight, When bothe frofett I and my fere;[600]

Here have we dwelt withoutten light Four thousand and six hundreth yere, Now se we by this solempne sight How that mercy makes us dere.

_Eva._ Lord, we were worthy more tornamentes[601] to tast,[602] Thou help us lord of thy mercy, as thou of myght is mast.[603]

_Johannes._ Lord, I love the inwardly, That me wold make thi messyngere, Thi commyng in erthe to cry, And teche thi fayth to folk in fere;[604]

Sythen before the forto dy,[605] To bryng theym bodword[606] that be here, How thay shuld have thi help in hy, Now se I alle those poyntes appere.

_Moyses._ David, thi prophette trew, Of tymes told unto us; Of thi commyng he knew, And saide it shuld be thus.

_David._ As I said ere yit say I so, _Ne derelinquas, domine, Animam meam in inferno_;[607] Leyfe never my saulle, Lord, after the,

In depe helle whedur[608] dampned shalle go Suffre thou never thi sayntes to se The sorrow of thaym that won in wo,[609] Ay, fulle of fylthe, and may not fle.[610]

_Moyses._ Make myrthe bothe more and les, And love oure lord we may, That has broght us fro bytternes In blys to abyde for ay.

_Ysaias._ Therfor now let us syng To love oure lord Jesus, Unto his blys he wille us bryng, _Te Deum laudamus._

THE INTERLUDE OF "GOD'S PROMISES"

BY JOHN BALE

CHARACTERS

Pater Cœlestis _The Heavenly Father_ Adam Primus Homo _Adam, the First Man_ Justus Noah _Just Noah_ Abraham Fidelis _Faithful Abraham_ Moses Sanctus _Saint Moses_ David Rex Pius _The Pious King, David_ Esaias Propheta _The Prophet Isaiah_ Baleus Prolocutor _John Bale, who speaks the Prologue_

GOD'S PROMISES

_A Tragedy or interlude manifesting the chief promises of God unto man by all ages in the old law, from the Fall of Adam to the Incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ. Compiled by John Bale, (Anno Domini MDXXXVIII.)._

_Baleus Prolocutor._ If profit may grow, most Christian audience, By knowledge of things which are but transitory, And here for a time, of much more congruence, Advantage might spring, by the search of causes heavenly, As those matters are that the gospel specify. Without whose knowledge no man to the truth can fall, Nor ever attain to the life perpetual, For he that knoweth not the living God eternal The Father, the Son and also the Holy Ghost, And what Christ suffered for redemption of us all, What he commanded, and taught in every coast, And what he forbode, that man must needs be lost, And clean secluded, from the faithful chosen sort, In the Heavens above, to his most high discomfort. You therefore, good friends, I lovingly exhort, To weigh such matters as will be uttered here, Of whom ye may look to have no trifling sport In fantasies feigned, nor such-like gaudy gear, But the things that shall your inward stomach cheer. To rejoice in God for your justification, And alone in Christ to hope for your salvation. Yea first ye shall have the eternal generation Of Christ, like as John in his first chapter write, And consequently of man the first creation The abuse and fall, through his first oversight, And the rise-again through God's high grace and might; By promises first which shall be declared all: Then by his own Son, the worker principal. After that, Adam bewaileth here his fall; God will shew mercy to every generation, And to his kingdom of his great goodness call His elected spouse, or faithful congregation, As shall appear by open protestation, Which from Christ's birth shall to his death conclude: They come, that thereof will shew the certitude.