Ysaac.
Kyll me, fader, a-lasse! wat haue I done?
Line 168
Yff I haue trespassyd a ȝens ȝow owt,
With a ȝard ȝe may make me full myld;
And with ȝowr scharp sword kyll me nogth,
For i-wys, fader, I am but a chyld.
Line 172
Abraham.
I am full sory, son, thy blood for to spyll,
But truly, my chyld, I may not chese.
Ysaac.
Now I wold to god my moder were her on yis hyll,
Sche woold knele for me on both hyr kneys
Line 176
To save my lyffe.
And sythyn that my moder ys not here,
I pray ȝow fader, schonge [Schonge, change.] ȝowr chere,
And kyll me not with ȝowyr knyffe.
Line 180
Abraham.
For-sothe, son, but ȝyf I the kyll,
I schuld greve god rygth sore, I drede,
Yt ys hys commawment and also hys wyll
That I schuld do thys same dede.
Line 184
He commawndyd me, son, for serteyn,
To make my sacryfyce with thy blood.
Ysaac.
And ys yt goddes wyll þat I schuld be slayn?
Abraham.
Za, truly, ysaac, my son soo good,
Line 188
And ther-for my handes I wryng.
