Of Ihesu Cryst, he hadde herd speke,
How Iewes dyd hym on þe rodë steke.
Þurgh grete þan ynspyracyun,
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He þoght so on hys passyun
Þat oure feyþ yn hys hertë ran,
Al be hyt he were no crysten man;
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So, what for trouþe, and what for doute,
He made þe croys hym al a-boute,
And seþþen leyd hym downe to slepe;
Of ouþer, ȝaf he no more kepe.
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Sone at þe mydnyȝt he gan to wake
Þurgh grete noyse and cry, & sore to quake;
He lokèd vp, and sagh þere sytte
Fendës fele þat fouly flytte; [chydde]
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he sagh one syttë yn a cheyre, [chayere.]
Þat foule lokèd, and foule gan bere;
He bad hem allë ȝelde a-counte,
Here dedës what þey wulde amounte;
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what þey hadde do many ȝeres,
He aresoned hem on hys maners;
To oon he cast enchesoun, [gret enchesoun.]
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"Sey þou, felaw, what þou hast doun!"
"At a weddyng," he seyde, "y was, [folio 52a]
And, þere y dyd grete trespas;
Y slogh, þurgh myȝt of honde,
Boþe þe wyfe and þe husbonde;
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And y dyd ȝyt a-noþer chek,
Alle þe ouþer y broght on cuntek,
And euery, y made ouþres foo, [fo.]
Þat euery man gan ouþer slo."
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Þe mayster fend gan hym beholde,
And sette at noȝt þat he hadde tolde.
"For þat, how long [lange.] hast þou be þore?"
"A twelue monþe," he seyd, "and no more."
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