XLII. DOOMSDAY.
Hic incipit dies Judicii, et Jhesu descendente cum Michaele et Gabriele Archangeletis Michaelus dicet, etc.
Michael. Surgite! alle men aryse,
Venite ad judicium!
ffor now is sett the hyȝ justyce,
And hath assygnyd the day of dome.
Rape ȝow redyly to this grett assyse,
Bothe grett and smalle, alle an sum,
And of ȝour answere ȝow now avyse,
What ȝe xal sey whan that ȝe cum,
ȝowre ansuere ffor to telle;
ffor whan that God xal ȝow appose,
Ther is non helpe of no glose,
The trewthe fful trewlye he wyl tose,
And send ȝow to hevyn or helle.
Gabryelle. Bothe Pope, prynce, and prysste with crowne,
Kynge and caysere, and knyhtes kene,
Rapely ȝe renne ȝour resonys to rowne,
ffor this xal be the day of tene.
Nowther pore ne ryche of grett renowne,
Ne alle the develys in helle that bene
ffrom this day ȝow hyde not mowne,
ffor alle ȝour dedys here xal be sene
Opynly in syght.
Who that is fowndyn in deedly gylte,
He were bettyr to ben hylte,
In endeles helle he xal be spylte,
Omnes resurgentes subtus terram clamavit “Ha! a! a! ha! a! a! ha! a! a!” Deinde surgentes dicat, “ha! a! a!” etc.
Ha! a! a! cleve asundyr ȝe clowdys of clay,
Asundyr ȝe breke and lete us pas:
Now may oure songe be, wele away,
That evyr we synnyd in dedly trespas!
Omnes demones clamant.
Harrow and owt! what xal we say?
Harraw we crye, owt and alas!
Alas! harrow! is this that day,
To endles peyne that us must pas?
Alas! harrow and owt! we crye.
Omnes animæ resurgentes dicant, etc.
A! mercy, Lorde! ffor oure mysdede,
And lett thi mercy sprynge and sprede!
But, alas! we byden in drede,
It is to late to aske mercye.
Deus. Venite benedicti,
My bretheryn alle,
Patris mei
ȝe childeryn dere;
Come hedyr to me to myn hyȝ halle,
Alle tho myn suterys and servauntes be;
Alle tho ffowle wyrmys ffrom ȝow falle,
With my ryght hand I blysse ȝow here.
My blyssynge burnyschith ȝow as bryght as beralle,
As crystalle clene it clensyth ȝow clere,
Alle ffylth ffrom ȝow ffade.
Petyr, to hevyn ȝatys thou wende and goo,
The lokkys thou losyn and hem undo,
My blyssyd childeryn thou brynge me to,
Here hertys for to glade.
Petrus. The ȝatys of hevyn I opyn this tyde:
Now welcome, dere bretheryn, to hevyn i-wys;
Com on, and sytt on Goddys ryght syde,
Where myrthe and melody nevyr may mys.
Omnes Salvati. On kne we crepe, we gon, we glyde,
To wurchepp oure Lorde that mercyful is;
ffor thorwe his woundys that be so wyde,
He hath brought us to his blys.
Holy Lorde, we wurcheppe the!
Deus. Welcome ȝe be in hevyn to sitt,
Welcum, fro me xul ȝe nevyr flitt,
So sekyr of blys ȝe xul be ȝitt,
To myrthe and joye welcum ȝe be!
Animæ dampnandum. Ha! ha! mercy, mercy, we crye and crave,
A! mercy, Lorde, for oure mysdede!
A! mercy, mercy, we rubbe! we rave!
A! help us, good Lord, in this nede!
Deus. How wolde ȝe, wrecchis, any mercy have?
Why aske ȝe mercy now in this nede?
What have ȝe wrought ȝour sowle to save?
To whom have ȝe don any mercyful dede,
Mercy for to wynne?
Primus diabolus. Mercy? nay, nay, they xul have wrake,
And that on here fforehed wyttnes I take,
ffor ther is wretyn with letteris blake,
Opynly alle here synne.
Deus. To hungry and thrusty that askyd in my name,
Mete and drynke wolde ȝe ȝeve non;
Of nakyd men had ȝe no shame,
ȝe wold nott vesyte men in no preson;
ȝe had no peté on seke nor lame,
Dede of mercy wold ȝe nevyr don;
Un herborwed men ȝe servyd the same,
To bery the deed pore man wold ȝe not gon;
These dedys doth ȝow spylle.
ffor ȝoure love was I rent on rode,
And for ȝour sake I shed my blode:
Whan I was so mercyfulle and so gode,
Why have ȝe wrought aȝens my wylle?
Secundus Diabolus. I fynde here wretyn in thin fforheed,
Thou were so stowte and sett in pryde,
Thou woldyst nott ȝeve a pore man breed,
But ffrom thi dore thou woldyst hym chyde.
Tertius diabolus. And in thi face here do I rede,
That if a thryfty man com any tyde,
ffor thrust thow he xulde be deed,
Drynk from hym thou woldyst evyr hyde;
On covetyse was alle thy thought.
Primus diabolus. In wratthe thi neybore to bakbyte,
Them for to hangere was thi delyte,
Thou were evyr redy them to endyte;
On the seke man rewyst thou nought.
Secundus diabolus. Evyr more on envye was alle thi mende,
Thou woldyst nevyr vesyte no presoner;
To alle thi neybores thou were unkende,
Thou woldyst nevyr helpe man in daunger.
Tertius diabolus. The synne of slauthe thi sowle xal shende,
Masse nore mateynes woldyst thou non here,
To bery the deed, man, thou woldyst not wende,
Therfore thou xalt to endles ffere;
To slowthe thou were ful prest.
Primus diabolus. Thou haddyst rejoyse in glotonye,
In dronkesheppe and in rebawdye,
Unherborwyd with velonye
Thou puttyst from here rest.
Secundus diabolus. Sybile Sclutte, thou ssalte sewe,
Alle ȝour lyff was leccherous lay;
To alle ȝour neybores ȝe wore a shrewe,
Alle ȝour plesauns was leccherous play.
Goddys men ȝe lovyd but fewe;
Nakyd men and ffebyl of array
ȝe wolde nott socowre with a lytel drewe,
Nott with a thred, the sothe to say,
Whan they askyd in Godys name.
Omnes dampnandi. A, mercy, Lord! mekyl of myght,
We aske thi mercy and not thi ryght,
Not after oure dede so us quyth,
We have synnyd, we be to blame.
Deus. . . . . . . . . . .
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