INCIPIT PASSIO.
God of his grace and gudness infinit
Sa nobill maid þe man, his creatour,
That of himselfe knawlage had perfite,
Als of his Godheid, and vthir creatur;
Throu grace of God, nocht of his awin natour,
He micht haue stand quhill God to grace him brocht,
But pane, or dreid; but he vnwislie wrocht.
He wrocht vnwise, allace! throu Lucifeir,
Quhilk causit him to dissobey his king,
Quhen he till Eue as sserpent couth appeir,
And causit hir þe appill for to bring
To fader Adam, that he mycht, throw taisting
Off þe appill, be lik to God, and kend
Baith gude and Ill; bot þat wes nocht þe end.
The end wes war, for þan banist he wes
Be þe angell, and put out of paradice,
He and his seid, euer in þis warld to pass,
Wanderand in wa, as man in nycht glaidles;
In cauld and heit his neidis to purches;
As woundit wycht in natour bair of grace,
Put to þe horn, exilit fra Goddis face.
Silit he wes vnder schaddew of syn,
Quhilk him deput euer with deid to duell,
As bandonit knycht, and till law bundin,
Heir to thoile reist, syne fechit be to hell;
He had no mycht fra him for to appeill,
For perty wes the Prince of maist poweir,
Eternall God quhilk had him presoneir.
Fra he wes presonit yeris mony ane
As Goddis fa, closit within myrknes,
Marcy and Piete maid ane full hevy mane
That þai wer tynt, for mankind gat na grace;
In hevin empire, befor the Faderis face
Thai apperit, allegeand as for þame,
That be þair law man suld be fred fra pane.
Thair allegence Justice and Verite
Affermit nocht; þairfor, befor þat king,
Thai allegit for þame rycht constantlye,
That be thair law Adam and his offspring
Eternalie suld be banist his rigne,
God infinit becaus he had offende;
Efter thair law his pane suld neuer end.
Than þe Fader, all richtuis Lord,
Gaif till his Sone to pas commandement,
In thair debait be him to mak concord:
And he richt sone schew him his sentement,
Sayand: Ane deid sall mak you baith content,
And bring Adam till peace with all his seid,
That me will worship baith in word and deid.
Than God þe angell send in þe ciete
Off Nazareth to Mary the virgin,
Quhilk halsit hir with reverence and piete,
Sayand: Haill, sueit angelicall Regin!
God hes the chosin to be baith rute and ryn
For mannis peace, for þou a sone sall beir,
Callit Jhesu, thairfor be nocht affeir.
Fra scho contentit to beir þe Prince of Price,
The Haly Gaist schane in hir tabernakill,
Hes in hir spred þat riall flour-de-lice,
Quhilk resauit ane man to reabill;
But seid of man þis Virgin permanable
The Sone of God consauit into haist
Be subtell wirking of þe Haly Gaist.
Than but delay scho went vnto þe montane,
Quhair duelling maid hir tender cousingnes,
Apoun hir fute, thoucht scho had gret pane,
Scho fenȝeit nocht þat hevy way to pas.
Hir first scho halsit, thoucht scho mar worthy wes,
Syne with hir baid þe space of monethis thre,
Hirself exersand in humilite.
This worthy Lady, but mannis syne bur a child,
Till angell glore, till synnar salvatour,
Till feind a fa, a freind to saule exild,
Till hungry meit, till thristy sweit licoure,
Till blind þe sycht, to will a herbrour,
Till dede þe life, till pure þe riche Lord,
Till seik þe heill, till life scho bure concord.
Efter aucht dais of his nativite
He sched his blude in circumcisioun;
For mannis saule thir arlis offerit he,
Quhill he be his ded þe saule price laid doun.
This fair ȝoung Prince, of all our glore þe crown,
Schew intill ded þat he his pepill lude,
That for thair saik sa sone he sched his blude.
The Kingis thre he giddit be ane sterne
Out of þe est, in haist to Bathelem;
In þe stabill þai fand the bony barne
With his moder, in cribe allane.
For his powerte, the kingis thocht na schame
Till knell on kne, and him adore as king,
As of gold, sens, mire, to mak offering.
In the tempill his moder him ,
As wes þe Law that tyme intill Jowry,
Off all þe warld thocht he wes Lord and King;
Off dowis twa his offerand þan maid he.
Auld Symeoun desirit for to de,
Fra he had sene þat nobill Prince and King,
Quhilk be his ded suld men fra torment bring.
This gracius prince Herod trowit suld ringe
Oure all Jowry, for Symeoun þe ald,
The gentill licht till Iserall þe king,
Had him before into þe tempill tauld.
Thair he send his men of armes bald,
In Bathelem all innocentis thai slew,
For he þe Prince, quhilk king suld be, misknew.
Bot God him knew to rigne as maist worthy,
Thairfor till Josaphe he ane angell send,
Quhilk said in haist: þe barne tak and Mary,
Syne with þaim baith in Egipt sone þou wend.
Thoucht he wes pure and littill had till spend,
Without delay he wes obedient,

Ȝeris seven fra he had dwelling maid
Intill Egipt, agane come þe angell,
Sayand: Josaphe, se þou, but mair abaid
Pass to þi hame, þe land of Iserall:
God hes me send agane, þe for to tell,
That þai ar ded quhilk wald þe barne haue slane.
In Nazareth thus are þai cumin agane.
Mair of his life, vnto the twelft ȝeir,
The Ewangellis makis no mencioun;
Bot vthir said, þat with his moder deir
In Nazareth he maid his hantage,
Hir and Josaphe seruand in gret ,
Thoucht þai wer pure, and he a riche Lord;
As Lendulphus and vtheris can record.
Fra of his age XII ȝeris wer cumin,
All to þe ciete in tyme of pasche þai went;
Thair wes he tynt, syne in the tempill fundin,
Amang the doctouris halding argument:
His moder said: Sueit Sone, thou hes ws schent;
For we the soucht with gret dollour and pane,
Bene neir our hame, syne turnit heir agane.
Agane with þame as subiet is he gane,
Thoucht he wes Sone and Prince to God eterne,
Makand his duelling intill ane sempill hame,
Kenand þe man all prid for till disperne;
Bot will þow leir, þou mone behald þe sterne,
That schane sa lang in clud of his manheid,
Or he exceid þe micht of his Godheid.
Neir thretty ȝer fra had maid duelling
With his moder, as sempill seruitour,
He thocht it tyme to schaw Lord and King,
Send fra þe hevin the tynt man to recure;
He tuke his leife, and to floun Jordane fure,
Baptist wes thair, thocht he was cleyne of syn,
Kenand all man with meiknes hevin to wyn.
In þe desert vnto þe fourty day
But meit or drink he keipit abstinence;
He hungerit syne to schaw him man werray;
Him for to tempe þe feind did deligence;
Bot his angellis keipit him in reuerence,
Sarwand þat sweit rycht as þair awne souerane.
He gat discipillis, syne ȝeid in plane.
Thoucht all my hare wer hertis for to think,
And all my juntis sang with angellis stewin,
And I mycht leif but sleip, meit or drink,
Off þi panis I couth schaw þe sevint,
Quhilk þou sustenit to bring me to þe Hevin,
In cauld and hunger rynand throw slik and clay,
Or thow tholit ded apoun þe gude friday.
Thairfor I hald me bund till ignorance
To tell þe teind of þi aduersite;
Bot of life a gentill rememberance
May mak mencioun þat in þai Ȝeris thre,
Quhilk thow prechit, schew ay sic cherite,
That gud for ewill elik þou wes doand,
Raissand þe ded, þai to slay þe seikand.
Syne drew neir þat he wald offerand mak
Off his body, for ws banist of blis;
With Moses and Elias first he spak
Intill Tabor, for þai wer twa witnes
That he wes Crist, hecht till al faderis,
Quhilk in þe Lymbe lay, cryand day and nycht
Up þe hevin, and cum doun lampe of lycht.
Quhen his discipillis saw him schyne so brycht,
Thai thoucht it gude ay to mak duelling þair;
Bot quhen þai herd þe woce cry, fra þe hicht,
Thai fell on growfe, for dreid þai frayit sair;
He confort þame, and bad þaim speik no mair
Off þat visioun, quhill he raiss fra þe ded,
Quhilk God deput for syne to be remeid.
Efter lang pane, and lauber infinite,
Hunger thrist, cauld in wynd and rane,
Walking, wandering, powerte, gret dispite,
Dolour, diseis, cair cotidiane;
Till all his sair he soucht na saw bot ane,
The quhilk wes ded, as surcharge till his sorrow,
That his manheid to de fra God couth borrow.
FERIA QUARTA. TRADITIO DOMINI.
On Wedinday in hous of Caiphes þai
Gadderit princis and preistis of þe law,
Him be sum meyn dissaitfully to sla.
For of þe pepill þe preistis gret aw
Him to persew, for na rycht couth þai schaw,
Quhy he suld de; for quhy? he giddit sua,
That na offence be did to freind nor faa.
Judas, þat herd þat conspiracioun
And fals counsall, wrocht rycht vnworthely,
That him nocht warnit of ewil nacioun,
Quhilk nycht and day him for to sla set spy.
Bot he wes full of subtill tratory,
Thairfor his lord for littill price he sauld,
Put in thair will quhat thing gif him þai wald.
FERIA QUINTA. AD VESPERAS.
Peter and Johnne he send into ciete
A place to grath, quhair be sulde eit þe lambe.
To se this Prince it is ane greit piete
Followand on fute as a pure sempill man.
He said þe grace, and syne þe grace began
Sayand: þe lambe till eit I thrist gretlye,
Or I thole ded for man apoun þe tre.
O man, behald þi Maker and þi King
Off reuth rute and mirrour of meiknes,
Quhilk to þe tratour maid sic cherising
To gar him turne fra his dissaitfulnes;
At set him at his tabill and his meiss,
Syne wesche þair feit, þat ran to sched his blude,
To gar men noit, how weill he þe saule lude.
Knelland on kne, þair feit, claggit in clay,
He wesche meikly as sempill seruitour.
Peter thocht schame and said schortlie: Nay.
Him arguunt Jhesu our Saluitour.
Peter said: Lord, I coumend me in ȝour cure,
Bait heid and feit to wesche, gif ȝe think speid.
Crist said agane: þe feit hes all þe neid.
He richt sad and said: Of ȝou twelf ane
Hes me betrasit and sauld dissaitfullie.
That voce hevin thirlis throu blude and bane,
And ilk ane sperit: Serr, is þat nocht I?
And Judas last, þat wrocht þe tratory.
Thairfor our Lord directit his sermone
Till him allane, þat wrocht had þe tresoun.
The sone of man, he said, mon pas to de,
As in þe prophacy of him it is writtin.
Bot wa is him, þat of wif born wes he,
That is gilty of þat trespas or syn.
Peter bad Johnne at Crist inquir of him
Quha tratour wes, bot Crist him nocht revelit,
Bot Sanct Johnne, quhilk fra þe laif conselit.
The seramonis of þe ald testiament
And vthir figouris tuke end, quhen he ordant
His precius body till ws as sacrament
In forme of breid, blissit with his hand.
He said: Do þis my ded rememberand,
Quhill I appeir in jugement agane,
Gude till haue glore and ewill eternall pane.
In his sermond to lufe and cherite
He þam exhortit, als to be pacient;
Stifly to fecht aganis aduersite
He confort þam, syn bad þaim be deligent,
Keip his bidding and his commandement.
He red þe grace, syne said: Lat ws pas hyne,
For heir to duell it is na ganand tyme.