_Deus._ Venite benedicti, My bretheryn alle, Patris mei ȝe childeryn dere; Come hedyr to me to myn hyȝ halle, Alle tho myn suterys and servauntes be; Alle tho ffowle wyrmys ffrom ȝow falle, With my ryght hand I blysse ȝow here. My blyssynge burnyschith ȝow as bryght as beralle, As crystalle clene it clensyth ȝow clere, Alle ffylth ffrom ȝow ffade. Petyr, to hevyn ȝatys thou wende and goo, The lokkys thou losyn and hem undo, My blyssyd childeryn thou brynge me to, Here hertys for to glade. _Petrus._ The ȝatys of hevyn I opyn this tyde: Now welcome, dere bretheryn, to hevyn i-wys; Com on, and sytt on Goddys ryght syde, Where myrthe and melody nevyr may mys. _Omnes Salvati._ On kne we crepe, we gon, we glyde, To wurchepp oure Lorde that mercyful is; ffor thorwe his woundys that be so wyde, He hath brought us to his blys. Holy Lorde, we wurcheppe the! _Deus._ Welcome ȝe be in hevyn to sitt, Welcum, fro me xul ȝe nevyr flitt, So sekyr of blys ȝe xul be ȝitt, To myrthe and joye welcum ȝe be! _Animæ dampnandum._ Ha! ha! mercy, mercy, we crye and crave, A! mercy, Lorde, for oure mysdede! A! mercy, mercy, we rubbe! we rave! A! help us, good Lord, in this nede! _Deus._ How wolde ȝe, wrecchis, any mercy have? Why aske ȝe mercy now in this nede? What have ȝe wrought ȝour sowle to save? To whom have ȝe don any mercyful dede, Mercy for to wynne? _Primus diabolus._ Mercy? nay, nay, they xul have wrake, And that on here fforehed wyttnes I take, ffor ther is wretyn with letteris blake, Opynly alle here synne. _Deus._ To hungry and thrusty that askyd in my name, Mete and drynke wolde ȝe ȝeve non; Of nakyd men had ȝe no shame, ȝe wold nott vesyte men in no preson; ȝe had no peté on seke nor lame, Dede of mercy wold ȝe nevyr don; Un herborwed men ȝe servyd the same, To bery the deed pore man wold ȝe not gon; These dedys doth ȝow spylle. ffor ȝoure love was I rent on rode, And for ȝour sake I shed my blode: Whan I was so mercyfulle and so gode, Why have ȝe wrought aȝens my wylle? _Secundus Diabolus._ I fynde here wretyn in thin fforheed, Thou were so stowte and sett in pryde, Thou woldyst nott ȝeve a pore man breed, But ffrom thi dore thou woldyst hym chyde. _Tertius diabolus._ And in thi face here do I rede, That if a thryfty man com any tyde, ffor thrust thow he xulde be deed, Drynk from hym thou woldyst evyr hyde; On covetyse was alle thy thought. _Primus diabolus._ In wratthe thi neybore to bakbyte, Them for to hangere was thi delyte, Thou were evyr redy them to endyte; On the seke man rewyst thou nought. _Secundus diabolus._ Evyr more on envye was alle thi mende, Thou woldyst nevyr vesyte no presoner; To alle thi neybores thou were unkende,