Ȝyt wyl y warne þe of o þyng,
Yn shryftë make þou no skornyng.
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Lytyl mayst þou spede þat whyle,
Ȝyf þou shryuë þe with gyle;
For ȝyf þou make þy shryftë feynt,
Sykyr þou be, þou shalt be a-teynt,
Line 12488
whan [þat] þou art nat yn wyl
Þe to wyþdrawë fro þyn yl.
what doust þou byfore þe prest,
And, hast déseyt yn þy brest?
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Asoyled mayst þou neuer be,
But þou wylt þy synnë fle.
with skornë wenest þou þe quyte
As a fals ypocryte,
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Þat þou holdest nat cunnaunt,
þat þou hetest and takest an hand.
A lytyl tale y wyl ȝow telle,
How he was shryue, þe fende of helle. [A tale.]
[The Tale of how the Devil came to be Shriven.] [[Not found elsewhere by G. Paris.]]
An holy man, þat God was dere,
Onës sat, shryftë to here;
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To hym come þe fende of helle, [folio 83a:2]
Yn form of a [of a O, a H.] man, hys synne to telle;—
Þe holy man wende hyt had be
A man yn flessh as [þat.] he dyd se;
On hys knees he sett hym downe,
with þe prest, for to roune,
Line 12508
And tolde hys wykkednes ful bostely.
Þe gode man lestned, þat satte hym by;
He seyde, "y haue be yn þe se;
Þere þre þousend shyppes were dreynt þurgh me;
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