Ysaac.
And I wyll fast be-gynne to blowe,
Line 376
Thys fyere schall brene a full good spyd;
But, fader, wyll I stowppe [Stowppe, stoope, bend.] downe lowe,
ȝe wyll not kyll me with ȝowre sword, I trowe?
Abraham.
Noo, harly, [Harly, hertely, heartily, truly.] swet son haue no dred,
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My mornyng ys past.
Ysaac.
ȝa! but I woold þat sword wer in a glad, [Glad, glede, hot ash in the fire. Isaac wishes the sword were in the fire, it terrifies him so greatly.]
For i-wys, fader, yt make me full yll a-gast.
[Here Abraham mad hys offryng, knelyng and seying thus—
Abraham.
Now lord god of hevyn in Trynyte,
Line 384
All myty god omnipotent,
My offeryng I make in the worchope of the,
And with thys qweke best I the present.
Lord reseyve thow myn intent,
Line 388
As art god and grownd of owr grace.
Deus.
Abraham, Abraham, wyll mot thow sped,
And ysaac, þi ȝowng son the by,
Trvly, Abraham, for thys dede,
Line 392
I schall mvltyplye ȝowres botheres sede
As thyke as sterres be in the skye,
Bothe more and lesse;
And as thyke as gravell in the see,
Line 396
So thyke mvltyplyed ȝowre sede schall be,
Thys grant I ȝow for ȝowre goodnesse.
