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Thomas, ſhe ſays, will ye but ſpeer,
If that my ſiſter Magdalen,
Will come to me if ſhe be here;
For comfort ſure ye give me nane.

He was ſo blyth he turned back,
And thanked God that he was gane;
He had no will to hear her crack,
But told it Mary Magdalen.

When that ſhe heard her ſiſter's mocks,
She went unto the gate with ſpeed:
And aſked her who's there that knocks:

'Tis I the Wife of Beith, indeed.
She ſaid, good miſtreſs, you muſt ſtand,
Till you be try'd by tribulation.

Siſter, quoth ſhe, give me your hand,
Are we not both of one vocation?
It is not through your occupation,
That you are placed ſo divine,
My faith is fixed on Chriſt's paſſion,
My ſoul ſhall be as ſafe as thine.

Then Mary went away in haſte,
The carling made her ſo aſhamed,
She had no will of ſuch a gueſt,
To loſe her pains and ſo be blamed:
Now good ſaint Paul, ſaid Magdalen,
Becauſe you are a learned man,
Go and convince this woman then,
For I have done all that I can:
Sure if ſhe were in hell I doubt;
They would not keep her longer there,
But to the gate would put her out;
And ſend her back to be elſewhere.