[The Extraction of Souls from Hell.]
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Rhys, Ernest
Jesus. My fader414 me from blys has send Till's erthe for mankynde sake, Adam mys415 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 chalange417 that is myne, Adam, Eve, and othere mo, Thay shalle no longer dwelle in pyne;
The feynde418 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 stede421 restore, Whiche the feynde felle from for syn, Som tokyn wille I send before, Withe myrthe to gar422 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 slake425 oure sorrowes sad.
Eve. Adam, my husband heynd,426 This menys solace certan, Siche lighte can on us leynd427 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 blyn428 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 fold432 it kende.
Simeon. So may I telle of farlys feylle,433 For in the tempylle his freyndes me fande, Me thoght dayntethe434 with hym to deylle, I halsyd435 hym homely with my hand,
I saide, Lord, let thi servandes leylle436 Pas in peasse to lyf lastande,437 Now that myn eeyn has sene thyn hele438 No longer lyst439 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 kend441 The wayes of Crist, as I welle can, I baptisid hym with bothe myn hende In the water of flume442 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 mold446 was so mighty Grathly447 durst loke agans448 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, herys454 thou not this ugly noyse? Thise lurdans455 that in lymbo dwelle, They make menyng456 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 sparyd458 in specyalle space, Whils I am prynce and pryncypalle, Thay shalle never pas out of this place;
Calle up Astarot459 and Anaballe, To gyf us counselle in this case; Belle, Berith and Bellyalle460 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 hedusly466 I hard hym calle.
Belzabub. Go spar the yates,467 ylle mot thou the!468 And set the waches469 on the walle, If that brodelle470 come ne With us ay won471 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 lede476 He had never harbor, house, ne halle;
How, sir Sathanas, com nar And hark this cursid rowte!