For Goddes blessid body it bar for owre bote,
And it afereth the fende, for suche is the myghte
May no grysly gost glyde there it shadoweth!
This is the end of one vision, but it is not the end of the poem. There is another dream.
I fel eftsones aslepe and sodeynly me mette
That Pieres the plowman was paynted al blody
And come on with a crosse before the comune people
And righte lyke in alle lymes to oure lorde Jhesu
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe:
‘Is this Jhesus the juster’ quoth I ‘that Jewes did to death?