Page:Ludus Coventriae (1841).djvu/365

Abraham. I am Abraham, fadyr trowe,
That reyned after Noes flowe;
A sory synne Adam gan sowe,
            That clad us alle in care.
A sone that maydenys mylk hath sokyn,
And with his blood oure bonde hath brokyn,
Helle logge lyth unlokyn,
            ffro fylthe with frende we fare.

Anima Christi. ffayre ffrendys, now be ȝe wunne,
On ȝow shyneth the sothfast sunne;
The gost that alle grevaunce hath gunne,
            fful harde I xal hym bynde.
As wyckyd werme thou gunne apere,
To tray my chylderyn that were so dere,
Therfore, traytour, hevermore here
            Newe peynes thou xalt evyr ffynde.

Thorwe blood I took of mannys kynde,
ffals devyl, I here the bynde,
In endles sorwe I the wynde,
            Therin evyrmore to dwelle.
Now thou art bownde, thou mayst not fle,
ffor thin envyous cruelté
In endeles dampnacian xalt thou be,
            And nevyr comyn out of helle.

Belialle. Alas! herrow! now am I bownde,
In helle gonge to ly on grounde,
In hendles sorwe now am I wounde,
            In care evyr more to dwelle.
In helle logge I lyȝ alone,
Now is my joye awey al gone,
ffor alle fendys xul be my fone,
            I xal nevyr com from helle.