_Jhesus._ Lyke as the sunne doth pers the glas, The glas not hurte of his nature; Ryght so the Godhede entryd has The virgynes wombe, and sche mayd pure; That maydonys childe xal do grett cure, Convicte the devyl in the opyn folde; And with his bolde berst fecche hom his creature, Mankende to save his brest xal be the schelde. _Secundus doctor._ This childys doctryne dothe passe our wytt, Sum aungel of hevyn I trowe that he be; But, blyssyd babe, of oo dowte ȝitt, We pray ȝow enforme us for charyté— Whiche toke flesche of the personys thre, Ageyn the fende to holde suche batayle? _Jhesus._ The secunde persone forsothe is he, Xal fray the fende withowte fayle. _Primus doctor._ Why rather he than any of that tother, The fyrst or the thyrde, why come they nowth? _Jhesus._ This is the cawse why, sertys, and non other, Ageyn the secunde the trespas was wrought; Whan the serpent Adam to synne browth, He temptyd hym nowght be the faderes myght; Of the gostys goodnes spak he ryght nowght, But in connynge he temptyd hym ryght. Myght is the Faderys owyn propyrté; To the Gost apperyd is goodnes; In none of these tweyn temptyd he Mankende to synne, whan he dede dresse: To the Sone connynge doth longe expres, Therwith the serpent dyd Adam asay,— “Ete of this appyl,” he seyd no lesse, “And thou xalt have connynge as God verray.” Thus the secunde person attrybute, Was only towchyd by temptacion; Wherfore hymself wyl holde the sewte, And kepe his propyrté fro maculacion. _Secundus doctor._ This is an hevynly declaracion, Oure naturalle wytt it doth excede; So ȝonge a childe of suche informacion In al this werld nevyr er non ȝede. _Primus doctor._ We be not worthy to kepe this sete, Whylle that oure mayster is in presens; The maystry of us this childe doth gete,— We must hym wurchep with hyȝ reverens! Come forthe, swete babe of grett excellens, The whysest clerke that evyr ȝett was born; To ȝow we ȝeve the hyȝ resydens, Us more to teche, as ȝe have done beforn. _Hic adducunt Jhesum inter ipsos et in scanno altiori ipsum sedere faciunt, ipsis in inferioribus scannis sedentibus, et ait._ _Secundus doctor._ So ȝonge a chylde suche clergye to reche, And so sadly to say it, we woundyr sore. Who was ȝoure mayster? who dede ȝow teche? Of what man had ȝe this wurthy lore? _Jhesus._ My wytt and my lernynge is no ȝonge store; Or this worde was wrought alle thinge dede I knowe; ffyrst or ȝe wore borne ȝeres many score, Thorwe the myght of my fadyr, my wytt in me dede flowe.