Sen fyrst that helle was mayde and I was put therin
Siche sorow never ere I had, nor hard I siche a dyn,[449]
My hart begynnys to brade,[450] my wytt waxys thyn,[451]
I drede we can not be glad, thise saules mon fro us twyn;[452]
How, Belsabub! bynde thise boys, siche "Harow"[453]
was never hard in helle.
_Belzabub._ Out, Rybald! thou rorest what is betyd? can thou oght telle?
_Rybald._ Whi, herys[454] thou not this ugly noyse?
Thise lurdans[455] that in lymbo dwelle,
They make menyng[456] of many joyse,
And muster myrthes theym emelle.[457]
_Belzabub._ Myrth? nay, nay! that poynt is past,
More hope of helthe shalle they never have.
_Rybald._ They cry on Crist fulle fast,
And says he shalle thaym save.
_Belzabub._ Yee, though he do not, I shalle,
For thay ar sparyd[458] in specyalle space,
Whils I am prynce and pryncypalle,
Thay shalle never pas out of this place;
Calle up Astarot[459] and Anaballe,
To gyf us counselle in this case;
Belle, Berith and Bellyalle[460]
To mar theym that siche mastry mase;[461]
Say to sir Satan oure syre,
And byd hym bryng also
Sir Lucyfer lufly of lyre.[462]
_Rybald._ Alle redy, lord, I go.
_Jesus._ _Attolite portas, principes vestras, et elevamini portoe aeternales,
et introibit rex gloriae._[463]
_Rybald._ Out, harro,[464] out!--what deville is he
That callys hym kyng over us alle?
Hark Belzabub, com ne,[465]
For hedusly[466] I hard hym calle.
_Belzabub._ Go spar the yates,[467] ylle mot thou the![468]
And set the waches[469] on the walle,
If that brodelle[470] come ne
With us ay won[471] he shalle:
And if he more calle or cry,
To make us more debate,
Lay on hym hardlly,
And make hym go his gate.[472]
_David._ Nay, withe hym may ye not fyght,
For he is king and conqueroure,
And of so mekille myght,
And styf in every stoure;[473]
Of hym commys alle this light
That shynys in this bowre;
He is fulle fers in fight,
Worthi to wyn honoure.
_Belzabub._ Honoure! harsto,[474] harlot, for what dede
Alle erthly men to me ar thralle,[475]
That lad that thou callys lord in lede[476]
He had never harbor, house, ne halle;
How, sir Sathanas, com nar
And hark this cursid rowte!
_Sathanas._ The dewille you alle to har![477]
What ales the so to showte?[478]
And see, if I com nar,
Thy brayn bot I bryst owte.[479]
_Belzabub._ Thou must com help to spar,[480]
We ar beseged abowte.
_Sathanas._ Besegyd aboute! whi, who durst be so bol
|