What for feere of this ferly, And of the false Jewes, I drow me in that derknesse To _descendit ad inferna_; And there I saugh soothly 12300 _Secundum Scripturas_ Out of the west coste A wenche, as me thoughte, Cam walkynge in the wey, To helle-ward she loked. Mercy highte that mayde, A meke thyng withalle, A ful benigne burde, And buxom of speche. Hir suster, as it semed, 12310 Cam soothly walkynge. Evene out of the est, And west-ward she lokede, A ful comely creature, Truthe she highte, For the vertue that hire folwede A-fered was she nevere. Whan thise maydenes mette, Mercy and Truthe, Either asked oother 12320 Of this grete wonder, Of the dyn and of the derknesse, And how the day rowed, And which a light and a leme Lay bifore helle. "Ich have ferly of this fare, In feith!" seide Truthe, {377} "And am wendynge to wite What this wonder meneth." "Have no merveille," quod Mercy, 12330 "Murth it bitokneth. A maiden that highte Marie, And moder withouten felyng Of any kynnes creature, Conceyved thorugh speche And grace of the Holy Goost, Weex greet with childe, Withouten wem Into this world she broghte hym; And that my tale be trewe, 12340 I take God to witnesse. "Sith this barn was y-bore Ben .xxx.^{ti} wynter passed, Which deide and deeth tholed This day aboute myd-day, And that is cause of this clips That closeth now the sonne, In menynge that man shal Fro merknesse be drawe, The while this light and this leme 12350 Shal Lucifer a-blende. For patriarkes and prophetes Han preched herof ofte: That man shal man save Thorugh a maydenes helpe; And that was tynt thorugh tree, Tree shal it wynne; And that deeth a-down broughte, Deeth shal releve." "That thow tellest," quod Truthe, 12360 "Is but a tale of Waltrot. {378} For Adam and Eve, And Abraham, with othere, Patriarkes and prophetes, That in peyne liggen, Leve thow nevere that yon light Hem a-lofte brynge, Ne have hem out of helle. Hold thi tonge, Mercy! It is but a trufle that thow tellest; 12370 I, Truthe, woot the sothe. For he that is ones in helle, Out cometh he nevere. Job the prophete patriark Repreveth thi sawes." _Quia in inferno nulla est redemptio._ Thanne Mercy ful myldely Mouthed thise wordes, "Thorugh experience," quod she, "I hope thei shul be saved. 12380 For venym for-dooth venym; And that preve I by reson. For of alle venymes Foulest is the scorpion, May no medicyne helpe The place ther he styngeth, Til he be deed, and do therto, The yvel he destruyeth, The firste venymousté Thorugh venym of hymselve. 12390