_Here Jhesus with his dyscipulis goth into the place, and ther xal come in a x. personys weyl be-seen in white arneys, and breganderes, and some dysgysed in odyr garmentes, with swerdys, gleyvys, and other straunge wepons, and cressettys, with feyr and lanternys and torchis lyth; and Judas formest of al conveyng hem to Jhesu be contenawns. Jhesus thus_, Serys, in ȝour wey ȝe have gret hast To seke hym that wyl not fle; Of ȝow I am ryth nowth agast,— Telle me, serys, whom seke ȝe? _Leyon._ Whom we seke here I telle the now, A tretour is worthy to suffer deth; We knowe he is here among ȝow,— His name is Jhesus of Nazareth. _Jhesu._ Serys, I am here that wyl not fle, Do to me all that ȝe kan; Forsothe I telle ȝow I am he, Jhesus of Nazareth, that same man. _Here alle the Jewys falle sodeynly to the erde, whan thei here Cryst speke, and qwhan byddyth hem rysyn, thei rysyn aȝen, Cryst thus seyng_, Aryse, serys, whom seke ȝe? fast have ȝe gon. Is howth ȝour comyng hedyr for me? I stond beforn ȝow here echone, That ȝe may me bothe knowe and se. _Rufyne._ Jhesus of Naȝareth we seke, And we myth hym here aspye. _Jhesu._ I told ȝow now with wordys meke, Beforn ȝow alle, that it was I. _Judas._ Welcome, Jhesu, my mayster dere, I have the sowth in many a place! I am ful glad I fynd the here, For I wyst nevyr wher thow wace. _Here Judas kyssyth Jhesus, and anoon alle the Jewys come abowth hym, and ley handys on hym, and pullyn as thei were wode, and makyn on hym a gret cry alle at onys; and aftyr this, Petyr seyth_, I drawe my swerd now this sel; Xal I smyte, mayster? fayn wolde I wete! _And forthwith he smytyth of Malchus here, and he cryeth “Help myn here! myn here!” and Cryst blyssyth it, and tys hol._ _Jhesus._ Put thy swerd in the shede fayr and wel, ffor he that smyth with swerd, with swerd xal be smete. A! Judas, this treson cowntyrfetyd hast thou! And that thou xalt ful sore repent! Thou haddyst be bettyr a ben unborn now, Thi body and sowle thou hast shent! _Gamalyel._ Lo, Jhesus! thou mayst not the cace refuse, Bothe treson and eresye in the is fownde; Stody now fast on thin excuse, Whylys that thou gost in cordys bownde. Thou kallyst the kyng of this werd rownde, Now lete me se thi gret powere, And save thiself here, hool and sownde, And brynge the out of this dawngere. _Leyon._ Bryng forth this tretoure, spare hym nowth! Onto Cayphas thi jewge we xal the lede. In many a place we have the sowth, And to thi werkys take good hede. _Rufyne._ Com on, Jhesus, and folwe me; I am ful glad that I the have; Thou xalt ben hangyn upon a tre,— A melyon of gold xal the not save! _Leyon._ Lete me leyn hand on hym in heye, Onto his deth I xal hym bryng; Shewe forth thi wychecrafte and nygramansye; What helpyth ye now al thi fals werkyng?