III. GOD'S VENGEANCE ON LUCIFER AND ON ADAM
Bot I have herkned and herde of mony hyȝe clerkez,
And als in resounez of ryȝt red hit myselven,
Þat þat ilk proper Prynce þat paradys weldez
Is displesed at uch a poynt þat plyes to scaþe.
Line 196
Bot never ȝet in no boke breved I herde
Þat ever he wrek so wyþerly on werk þat he made,
Ne venged for no vilte of vice ne synne,
Ne so hastyfly watz hot for hatel of his wylle,
Line 200
Ne never so sodenly soȝt unsoundely to weng[e], [MS., M. weng.]
As for fylþe of þe flesch þat foles han used.
For, as I fynde, þer he forȝet alle his fre þewez, [MS. þeweȝ; M. þewes.]
And wex wod to þe wrache for wrath at his hert.
Line 204
For þe fyrste felonye þe falce fende wroȝt,
Whyl he watz hyȝe in þe heven hoven upon lofte,
Of alle þyse aþel aungelez attled þe fayrest;
And he unkyndely as a karle kydde a reward. [MS., M. areward; NED. a reward.]
Line 208
He seȝ noȝt bot hymself how semly he were,
Bot his Soverayn he forsoke, and sade þyse wordez:
'I schal telde up my trone in þe tramountayne, [MS., M. 1 tramountayne, M. 2 tra mountayne.]
And by lyke to þat Lorde þat þe lyft made.'
Line 212
With þis worde þat he warp, þe wrake on hym lyȝt,
Dryȝtyn wyth his dere dom hym drof to þe abyme,
In þe mesure of his mode, his metz never þe lasse; [MS., M., G. metȝ; B. meth (see note).]
Bot þer he tynt þe tyþe dool of his tour ryche.
Line 216
Þaȝ þe feloun were so fers for his fayre wedez [folio 64a]
And his glorious glem þat glent so bryȝt,
As sone as Dryȝtynez dome drof to hymselven,