_Maria._ A! dere ffrende, weel woot I this, That he doth bye us to his blys; But ȝitt of myrth evyr more I mys, Whan I se this syght! _Johannes._ Now, dere lady, therfore I ȝow pray, ffro this dolful dolour wende we oure way, ffor whan this syght ȝe se nought may, ȝoure care may waxe more lyght. _Maria._ Now sythe I must parte hym fro, ȝit lete me kysse or that I go His blyssyd ffeyt that sufferyn wo, Naylid on this tre. So cruelly with grett dyspyte, Thus shamfully was nevyr man dyghte, Therfore in peyn myn hert is pyghte, Al joye departyth fro me! _Hic quasi semimortua cadat prona in terram, et dicit._ _Johannes._ Now, blyssyd mayd, com forthe with me! No lengere this syght that ȝe se, I xal ȝow gyde in this countré, Where that it plesyth ȝow best. _Maria._ Now, jentyl John, my sonys derlyng! To Goddys temple thou me brynge, That I may prey God with sore wepynge, And mornynge that is prest! _Johannes._ Alle ȝour desyre xal be wrought, With herty wylle I werke ȝour thought; Now, blyssyd mayde, taryeth nowth, In the temple that ȝe ware! ffor holy prayere may chaunge ȝour mood, And cawse ȝour chere to be more good; Whan ȝe se notȝ ȝour childys blood, The lasse may be ȝour care! _Tunc transiet Maria ad templum cum Johanne, etc._ _Maria._ Here in this temple my lyff I lede, And serve my lord God with hertyly drede, — Now xal wepynge me fode and fede, Some comforte tylle God sende. A! my lord God, I the pray, Whan my childe ryseth the iij.ᵈᵉ day, Comforte thanne thyn hand-may, My care for to amende! XXXIII. THE DESCENT INTO HELL. _Anima Christi._ Now alle mankende, in herte be glad, Withe alle merthis that may be had, ffor mannys sowle that was be-stad In the logge of helle. Now xal I ryse to lyve agayn, From peyn to pleys of paradyse pleyn; Therfore, man, in hert be fayn. In merthe now xalt thou dwelle! I am the sowle of Cryst Jhesu, The whiche is kynge of alle vertu; My body is ded, the Jewys it slew, That hangyth ȝitt on the rode! Rent and torn, al blody red, ffor mannys sake my body is deed, ffor mannys helpe my body is bred, And sowle drynke my bodyes blode. Thow my body be now sclayn, The thrydde day, this is certayn, I xal reyse my body agayn, To lyve as I ȝow say! Now wole I go streyth to helle, And feche ffrom the fendys felle, Alle my frendys that therin dwelle, To blysse that lestyth ay. _The sowle goth to helle gatys and seyth, “Attollite portas, principes, vestras, et elevamini, portæ eternales, et introibit Rex Gloriæ.”_