now I wille com sone;
My body shalle abyde in grave
Tille alle this dede be done.

_Adam._ My brether, herkyn unto me here,
More hope of helth never we had,
Four thousand and six hundred yere
Have we bene in darknes stad;[423]

Now se I tokyns of solace sere,[424]
A gloryous gleme to make us glad,
Wherthrughe I hope that help is nere,
That sone shalle slake[425] oure sorrowes sad.

_Eve._ Adam, my husband heynd,[426]
This menys solace certan,
Siche lighte can on us leynd[427]
In paradyse fulle playn.

_Isaias._ Adam, thrugh thi syn
Here were we put to dwelle,
This wykyd place within,
The name of it is helle;

Here paynes shalle never blyn[428]
That wykyd ar and felle,
Love, that lord, withe wyn
His lyfe for us wold selle.

[_Et cantent omnes "Salvator mundi" primum versum._[429]

Adam, thou welle understand,
I am Isaias, so Crist me kende,[430]
I spake of folk in darknes walkand,[431]
I saide a light shuld on them lende;

This light is alle from Crist commande,
That he tille us has hethir sende,
Thus is my poynt proved in hand,
As I before to fold[432] it kende.

_Simeon._ So may I telle of farlys feylle,[433]
For in the tempylle his freyndes me fande,
Me thoght dayntethe[434] with hym to deylle,
I halsyd[435] hym homely with my hand,

I saide, Lord, let thi servandes leylle[436]
Pas in peasse to lyf lastande,[437]
Now that myn eeyn has sene thyn hele[438]
No longer lyst[439] I lyf in lande.

This light thou has purvayde
For theym that lyf in lede,[440]
That I before of the have saide
I se it is fulfillyd in dede.

_Johannes Baptista._ As a voice cryand I kend[441]
The wayes of Crist, as I welle can,
I baptisid hym with bothe myn hende
In the water of flume[442] Jordan;

The Holy Gost from heven discende
As a white dowfe downe on me than,
The Fader voyce, oure myrthes to amende,
Was made to me lyke as a man;[443]

"Yond is my son," he saide,
"And whiche pleasses me fulle welle,"
His light is on us layde,
And commys oure karys to kele.[444]

_Moyses._ Now this same nyght lernyng have I,
To me, Moyses, he shewid his myght,
And also to another one, Hely,[445]
Where we stud on a hille on hyght,

As whyte as snaw was his body,
His face was like the son for bright,
No man on mold[446] was so mighty
Grathly[447] durst loke agans[448] that light,
And that same lighte here se I now
Shynyng on us, certayn,
Wherethrughe truly I trow
That we shalle sone pas fro this payn.

_Rybald._