_Veritas._ I, Trowthe, have sowte the erthe withowt and withinne, And in sothe ther kan non be fownde, That is of o day byrth withowte synne, Nor to that dethe wole be bownde. _Misericordia._ I, Mercy, have ronne the hevynly regyon rownde, And ther is non of that charyté, That ffor man wole suffre a deddly wounde, I cannott wete how this xal be. _Justicia._ Sure I can fynde non sufficyent, ffor servauntys unprofytable we be eche one, Hes love nedyth to be ful ardent, That for man to helle wolde gon. _Pax._ That God may do is non but on, Therfore this is be hys avyse, He that ȝaff this counselle lete hym ȝeve the comforte alon, ffor the conclusyon in hym of alle these lyse. _ffilius._ It peyneth me that man I mad, That is to seyn peyne I must suffre sore, A counsel of the Trinité must be had, Whiche of us xal man restore. _Pater._ In ȝour wysdam, son, man was mad thore, And in wysdam was his temptacion, Therfor, sone, sapyens ȝe must ordeyn herefore, And se how of man may be salvation. _Filius._ ffadyr, he that xal do this must be bothe God and man, Lete me se how I may were that wede, And sythe in my wysdam he began, I am redy to do this dede. _Spiritus Sanctus._ I the Holy Gost of ȝow tweyn do procede, This charge I wole take on me, I love to ȝour lover xal ȝow lede, This is the assent of oure unyté. _Misericordia._ Now is the loveday mad of us fowre fynialy, Now may we leve in pes as we were wonte: Misericordia et Veritas obviaverunt sibi, Justicia et Pax osculatæ sunt. _Et hic osculabunt pariter omnes._ _Pater._ ffrom us, God, aungel Gabryel, thou xalte be sende, Into the countré of Galylé, The name of the cyté Naȝareth is kende, To a mayd, weddyd to a man is she. Of whom the name is Joseph se, Of the hous of Davyd bore, The name of the mayd ffre, Is Mary that xal al restore. _ffilius._ Say that she is withowte wo and ful of grace, And that I the son of the Godhed of here xal be bore. Hyȝe the thou were there apace, Ellys we xal be there the before. I have so grett hast to be man thore, In that mekest and purest virgyne, Sey here she xal restore, Of ȝow aungellys the grett ruyne. _Spiritus Sanctus._ And if she aske the how it myth be, Telle her I the Holy Gost xal werke al this, Sche xal be savyd thorwe oure unyté, In tokyn here bareyn cosyn Elyȝabeth is Qwyk with childe, in here grett age i-wys; Sey here to us is nothynge impossyble, Her body xal be so ful fylt with blys, That she xal sone thynke this sownde credyble. _Gabriel._ In thyn hey inbasset, Lord, I xal go, It xal be do with a thought, Beholde now, Lord, I go here to, I take my flyth and byde nowth. _Ave Maria gratia plena, Dominus tecum!_