A þousand siþis y him defie;
He may be sory & no-þing glad
Þat schal haue [MS. transposes riȝtwisnes and mercy.] riȝtwisnes & no mercy."
Line 88
Mercy biheeld þat semeli goost.
And seide, "leue broþer, forsake þe feend,
For he wolde fayn þi soule were lost,
To dwelle in helle without eend.
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¶ Biseche now grace, & god wole sende
And þou wolt do as y þee wijs,
And þan þi soule to heuen schal wende,
Þere merci passiþ riȝtwisnes."
Line 96
"Alas," quod þe synner, "al my lijf y rue, [page 71]
For it is no þing as y wende;
To serue god y wole be trewe
If ony grace he wole me sende.
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¶ Of al wickidnes he me defende!
Þe fals feend, y him defie;
He wolde no þing þat y dide meende,
Þat biheet me riȝt no mercie."
Line 104
Merci seide "if þou wolt so,
Þou myȝt be glad al þi lijf,
And for þi synne þou maist be woo,
And to a preest cleene þee schriue,
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¶ And take penaunce without strijf,
Repentynge þee of al þi mys,
Þan bi þi witt þou maist knowe rijf
Þat merci passiþ riȝtwisnes."
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"Alas," quod the synner, "y haue lyued wrong!
What penaunce were y worþi to haue?
Þer may no man sette me to strong
Þouȝ y were quicke doluen on graue.
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