Therfore I pray ȝow excuse me,
And on my herand lete me go.
Secundus Judæus. What? harlot, hast thou skorne To here the tre? whan we the praye! Thou xalt berynt, haddyst thou sworn, And yt were ten tyme the weye! Symon. Serys, I pray ȝow dysplese ȝou nowth, I wole help to here the tre; Into the place it xal be browth, Where ȝe wole commawnde me.
Here Symon takyth the cros of Jhesus, and beryth it forth.
Veronica. A! ȝe synful pepyl, why fare thus? ffor swet and blod he may not se! Alias! holy prophete, Cryst Jhesus! Careful is myn hert for the!
And sche whypyth his face with her kerchy.
Jhesus. Veronyca, thi whipyng doth me ese! My face is clene that was blak to se: I xal them kepe from alle mysese, That lokyn on thi kerchy and remembyr me!
Than xul thei pulle Jhesu out of his clothis, and leyn them togedyr; and ther thei xul pullyn hym down and leyn along on the cros, and after that naylyn hym thereon.
Primus Judæus. Come on now here, we xal asay
Yf the cros for the be mete;
Cast hym down here in the devyl way,
How long xal he standyn on his fete?
