Whan ȝe had don, to comforte ȝour brayn?
Joseph. A! gracyous God, help me this tyde,
Ageyn this pepyl that me doth fame;
As I nevyr more dede toche where syde,
This day help me fro werdly schame!
Abowte this awtere to kepe my fame,
Vij. tymes I have gon rownd abowte;
If I be wurthy to suffyr blame,
O ryghtful God, my synne shewe owughte.
Episcopus. Joseph, with hert thank God thi Lorde,