Ondothe ȝoure ȝatys of sorwatorie!
On mannys sowle I have memorie,
Here comyth now the kynge of glorye,
These gates for to breke!
ȝe develys that am here withinne,
Helle gatys ȝe xal unpynne,
I xal delyvere mannys kynne, —
ffrom wo I wole hem wreke!
Belyalle. Alas! alas! out and harrow!
Onto thi byddynge must we bow,