"Certes, I drede me," quod the devel, "Lest Truthe wol hem fecche; Thise thritty wynter, as I wene, Hath he gon and preched. 12670 I have assailled hym with synne, And som tyme y-asked Wheither he were God or Goddes sone; He yaf me short answere. And thus hath he trolled forth Thise two and thritty wynter. And whan I seigh it was so, Lepynge I wente To warne Pilates wif What done man was Jhesus. 12680 For Jewes hateden hym, And han doon hym to dethe. I wolde have lengthed his lif; For I leved if he deide, That his soule wolde suffre No synne in his sighte. For the body, while it on bones yede, Aboute was evere To save men from synne, If hemself wolde. 12690 And now I se wher a soule Cometh hiderward seillynge, With glorie and with gret light,-- God it is, I woot wel. I rede that we fle," quod he, "Faste alle hennes; For us were bettre noght be, Than biden his sighte. For thi lesynges, Lucifer, {388} Lost is al oure praye. 12700 "First thorugh the we fellen Fro hevene so heighe, For we leved on thi lesynges; Y-lorn we have Adam, And al oure lordshipe, I leve, A-londe and a-watre." _Nunc princeps hujus mundi ejicietur foras_. Eft the light bad unlouke; And Lucifer answerede, "What lord artow?" quod Lucifer. 12710 _Quis est iste?_ "_Rex Gloriæ_," The light soone seide, "And lord of myght and of man, And alle manere vertues. _Dominus virtutum_. Dukes of this dymme place, Anoon undo thise yates, That Crist may come in, The kynges sone of hevene!" 12720 And with that breeth helle brak, With Belialles barres, For any wye or warde, Wide opned the yates. Patriarkes and prophetes, _Populus in tenebris_, Songen seint Johanes song, _Ecce agnus Dei._ Lucifer loke ne myghte, So light hym a-blente. 12730 And tho that oure Lord lovede Into his light he laughte; And seide to Sathan, {389} "Lo! here my soule to amendes For alle synfulle soules, To save tho that ben worthi. Myne thei ben and of me, I may the bet hem cleyme. And though Reson recorde And Right, of myselve, 12740 That if he ete the appul Alle sholde deye; I bi-highte hem noght here Helle for evere. For the dede that thei dide, Thi deceite it made; With gile thow hem gete, Ageyn alle reson. For in my paleis Paradis, In persone of an addre, 12750 Falsliche thow fettest Thyng that I lovede.