I have do made redy his cros that he xal dye upon,
And thre nayles to takke hym with that he xal not styrte;
Be he nevyr so holy he xal not fro me gon,
But with a sharpe spere he xal be smet to the herte.
And sythyn he xal come to helle be he nevyr so stowte,
And ȝet I am aferd and he come he wole do som wrake;
Therfore I xal go warnyn helle that thei loke abowte,
That thei make redy chenys to bynd hym with in lake.
Helle! Helle! make redy, for here xal come a gest,
Hedyr xal come Jhesus that is clepyd Goddys sone,
And he xal ben here be the oure of none,
And with the here he xal wone,
And han ful shrewyd rest.
Here xal a devyl spekyn in helle.
Demon. Out upon the! we conjure the,
That nevyr in helle we may hym se,
ffor and he onys in helle be,
He xal oure power brest.
Sathan. A! A! than have I go to ferre;
But som wyle help, I have a shrewde torne,
My game is wers than I wend here,
I may seyn my game is lorne.
Lo! a wyle ȝet have a kast,
If I myth Jhesus lyf save,
Helle gatys xal be sperd fast,
And kepe stylle alle tho I have.
To Pylatys wyff I wele now go,
And sche is aslepe a bed ful fast,
And byd here withowtyn wordys mo,
To Pylat that sche send in hast.
