_Primus miles._ My sovereyn Lord, heyest of excillens, In ȝou alle jewgement is termynabyle; Alle Crystyn dogges that do not here dyligens, ȝe put hem to peynes that ben inportable. _Secundus miles._ Nothing in ȝou may be more comendable, As to dysstroye tho traytores that erre Ageyn oure lawys, that ben most profytable; Be rythwysnesse that lawe ȝe must profferre. _Rex Herowdes._ Now, be gloryous Mahownd, my sovereyn Savyour, These promessys I make, as I am trewe knyth! Thoo that excede his lawys by ony errour, To the most xamefullest deth I xal hem dyth. But o thyng is sore in my gret delyte, Ther is on Jhesus of Nazareth, as men me tellyth; Of that man I desyre to han a sythte, ffor with many gret wondrys oure lawe he fellyth. The son of God hymself he callyth, And kyng of Jewys he seyth is he, And many woundrys of hym he fallyth— My hert desyryth hym for to se. Seres, yf that he come in this cowntré, With oure jurresdyccion loke ȝe aspye, And anon that he be brouth onto me, And the trewth myself than xal trye. _Primus miles._ Tomorwe my jorné I xal begynne, To seke Jhesus with my dew dilygens; ȝyf he come ȝour provynce withinne, He xal not askape ȝour hey presens. _Secundus miles._ Myn sovereyn, this is my cowncel that ȝe xal take, A man that is bothe wyse and stronge, Thurwe alle Galylé a serge to make, Yf Jhesu be enteryd ȝour pepyl among, Corrette hese dedys that be do wronge, ffor his body is undyr ȝour bayle, As men talkyn hem among, That he was born in Galylé. _Rex._ Thanne of these materys, serys, take hede; ffor a whyle I wele me rest, Appetyde requyryth me so indede, And ffesyk tellyth me it is the best. XXX. THE TRIAL OF CHRIST. _Here xal a massanger com into the place rennyng and criyng “Tydyngys! tydynges!” and so rownd abowth the place, “Jhesus of Naȝareth is take! Jhesus of Naȝareth is take!” and forthwith heylyng the prynces, thus seyng_, _Massanger._ Alle heyle, my lordys, princys of prestys! Sere Cayphas and sere Annas, lordys of the lawe! Tydynges I brynge ȝou, reseyve them in ȝour brestys; Jhesus of Naȝareth is take, therof ȝe may be fawe! He xal be browth hedyr to ȝou anon; I telle ȝou trewly with a gret rowth,— Whan he was take I was hem among, And ther was I ner to kachyd a clowte. Malcus bar a lanterne and put hym in pres, Anoon he had a towche and of went his ere! Jhesus bad his dyscyple put up his swerd and ces, And sett Malcus ere ageyn as hool as it was ere! So mot y the, methowut it was a strawnge syth! Whan we cam fyrst to hym, he cam us ageyn, And haskyd whom we sowth that tyme of nyth? We seyd Jhesus of Naȝareth, we wolde have hym fayn.