But, fader, I prey ȝow euer more,
Tell ȝe my moder no dell. [Dell, deal, bit; no dell, not at all.]
Line 256
Yffe sche wostyt sche wold wepe full sore,
For i-wysse, fader, sche lovyt me full wyll;
Goddes blyssyng mot sche haue!
Now for-wyll, my moder so swete,
Line 260
We too be leke no mor to mete.
Abraham.
A! ysaac, ysaac! son, þou makyst me to gret,
And with thy wordes thow dystempurst me.
Ysaac.
I-wysse, swete fader, I am sory to greve ȝow,
Line 264
I cry ȝow mercy of that I haue donne,
And of all trespasse þat euer I ded meve ȝow,
Now, dere fader, for-ȝyffe me þat I have donne.
God of heuyn be with me.
Line 268
Abraham.
A! dere chyld, lefe of thy monys,
In all thy lyffe thow grevyd me neuer onys,
Now blyssyd be thow, body and bonys,
That euer thow were bred and born,
Line 272
Thow hast be to me, chyld, full good.
But i-wysse, chyld, thou I morne neuer so fast,
ȝyt must I nedes here at the last
In thys place sched all thy blood.
Line 276
Ther-for, my dere son, her schall þou lye,
On-to my warke I must me stede,
I-wysse I had as leve my selffe to dey,—
Yf god wyll plecyd with my dede,— [folio 19b]
Line 280
And myn owyn body for to offer.
