Yea, John! and then, with words holy and good,
Even, by and by, we turn the wine to blood.
John.
Lo! Will ye se? Lo! who would have thought it?
That ye could so soon from wine to blood ha brought it?
And yet, except your mouth be better tasted than mine,
I cannot feel it other but that it should be wine.
And yet I wot ne'er a cause there may be, why
Perchance, ye ha drunk blood oftner than ever did I.
Parson.
Truly, John, it is blood, though it be wine in taste.
As soon as the word is spoke, the wine is gone and past!
John.
A sessions on it! for me. My wits are me benumme:
For I cannot study where the wine should become?
Parson.
Study, quoth ha! Beware, and let such matter go!
To meddle much with this, may bring ye soon to woe.
John.