Amonges us alle bretheryn, that xuld do this synne?
Alas, he is lorn! ther may no grace be,
In depe helle donjeon his sowle he doth pynne.
Jhesus. In my dysche he etyht this treson xal begynne,
Wo xal betydyn hym for his werke of dred;
He may be ryght sory swyche ryches to wynne,
Ad whysshe hymself unborn ffor that synful ded.
Judas. The trewth wolde I knowe as leff as ȝe,
And therfore, good ssere, the trewthe thou me telle;
Whiche of us alle here that traytour may be,