_Uxor Noe._ Allemyghty God, of his gret grace, Enspyre men with hertely wylle, For to sese of here trespace, ffor synfulle levyng oure sowle xal spylle. Synne offendyth God in his face, And agrevyth oure Lorde ffulle ylle, It causyth to man ryght grett manace, And scrapyth hym out of lyvys bylle, That blyssyd book. What man in synne doth alle wey scleppe, He xal gon to helle ful deppe, Than xal he nevyr after creppe Out of the brennyng brook. I am ȝour wyff, ȝour childeryn these be, Onto us tweyn it doth longe, Hem to teche in alle degré Synne to forsakyn and werkys wronge. Therfore, sere, for love of me, Enforme hem wele evyr amonge, Synne to forsake and vanyté And vertu to ffolwe that thei ffonge, Oure Lord God to plese. _Noe._ I warne ȝow, childeryn, on and alle, Drede oure lord God in hevy[n] halle, And in no forfete that we ne ffalle, Oure Lord for to dysplese. _Shem._ A! dere ffadyr, God forbede That we xulde do in ony wyse Ony werke of synful dede, Oure lord God that xulde agryse. My name is Shem, ȝour son of prise, I xal werke aftere ȝour rede, And also, wyff, the weylle awyse, Wykkyd werkys that thou none brede, Never in no degré. _Uxor Seem._ fforsothe, sere, be Goddys grace, I xal me kepe from alle trespace, That xulde offende Goddys fface, Be help of the Trynyté. _Cham._ I am Cham, ȝour secunde sone, And purpose me be Goddys myght, Nevyr suche a dede for to don, That xuld agreve God in syght. _Uxor Cham._ I pray to God me grawnt this bone, That he me kepe in suche a plyght, Mornynge, hevenynge, mydday, and none, I to affendyn hym day nor nyght. Lord God, I the pray, Bothe wakynge and eke in slepe, Gracyous God, thou me keppe, That I nevyr in daunger crepe, On dredffulle domys-day. _Japhet._ Japhet, thi iij.ᵈᵉ sone, is my name; I pray to God, wher so we be, That he us borwe fro synfulle shame, And in vertuous levynge evyrmore kepe me. _Uxor Japhet._ I am ȝour wyff, and pray the same, That God us save on sonde and se, With no grevauns that we hym grame, He grawnt us grace synne to fle,— Lord God, now here oure bone. _Noe._ Gracyous God, that best may, With herty wyl to the we pray, Thou save us sekyr bothe nyght and day, Synne that we noon done. _Deus._ Ow, what menyht this myslevyng man, Whiche myn hand made and byldyd in blysse? Synne so sore grevyht me ȝa in certayn, I wol be vengyd of this grett mysse. Myn aungel dere, thou xalt gan To Noe that my servaunt is, A shypp to make on hond to tan Thou byd hym swythe ffor hym and his, ffrom drynchyng hem to save, ffor, as I am God off myght, I xal dystroye this werd downe ryght, Here synne so sore grevyht me in syght, Thei xal no mercy have.