And I folowynge thy fayth with humblenesse, am hys spirytuall mother also. Alas my God the brotherlynesse that thu hast towardes me through thy humblenesse, in callynge me syster, is great. Dedyst thu euer saye ī it any thynge afore? Alas yea. For thu hast broken the kyndred of my olde father, callynge me doughter by adopcyon. Well than, seynge that we haue both but one father, I wyll not feare to call the my brother. For so hast thu reported it by Salomon in hys bellet, saynge, My syster and spouse thu hast wounded my harte with the swete loke of one of thyne eyes, and with one cheyne of thy necke. Alas my brother, I wyshe for nothynge els, but that in woūdynge the, I myght fynde my selfe wounded with thy loue. To that wolde I geue ouer my selfe. And lyke wyse thu dost call me wyfe in that place, shewynge largely that thu louyst me, saynge by these wordes amorouse. [Sidenote: Canti. 2.] [Sidenote: Luce. 8.] Aryse my dere doue, and come hytherwarde my dylectable spouse. Therfor shal I saye with louynge fayth, thu arte myne and I am thyne. Thu dost call me thy loue & fayre spouse. If it be so, suche hast thu made me. Alas, doth it please the, to gyue me suche names? They are truly able to breake a mannys harte, and cause it to burne through loue vnspeakeable, whan he thynketh vpon the honoure that thu dost vnto hym, whych is moche greatter than he hath deserued. A mother, a mother? Alas but of what chylde is it? Truly of suche a sonne, that my harte doth breake for loue. My God, my sonne? O Iesus what speache thys is, mother, daughter. O happy kynrede. O what swetnesse doth proceade out of that paternyte. But what doughterly and reuerent feare ought I to haue towardes hym, my father, yea & my creatour, my protectour and sauer? To be thy syster, alas here is a great loue. [Sidenote: Canti. 8.] [Sidenote: Acto. 4.] [Sidenote: Ezech. 33.] Now dost thu breake my harte ī the myddest to make rowme for the same so swete a brother. So that no other name be writē in the same, but only my brother Iesus the sonne of God. Non other man wyll I geue place to, for all the scourgynge and beatynge, that they cā do vnto me. Reape my harte then, my brother and frynde, & lete not thy enemy entre into it. O my father, chylde, brother, and spouse, with handes ioyned, humbly vpon my knees I yelde the thankes and prayses, that it pleaseth the to turne thy face towardes me conuertynge my harte, and coueryng me with suche grace, that thu dost se nomore my euyls & synnes. So wele hast thu hydden them, that it semeth, thu hast put thē in forgetfulnesse. Yea, & also they seme to be forgoten of me, whych haue cōmytted them, for fayth and loue causeth me to forget them, puttynge wholly my trust in the alone. [Sidenote: Psal. 31.] [Sidenote: Luce. 15.] [Sidenote: Ezech. 18.]