York Guides

XXXVI
THE BUTCHERS’ PLAY

JESUS

That man who has mind to repent,
Look here, and good heed to me take.
On the rood am I tortured and rent,
Thou sinful of soul, for thy sake.
For thy misdeeds amends do I make;
For thy sake this torment I know;
This woe for thy trespass I take;
What man greater loving could show,
Than I?
Thus for thy good I shed my blood.
Man, mend thy mood,
For thy bliss I full bitterly buy.

MARY

Alas ! for my sweet son I say,
That doleful to death thus is done.
Alas! for all lovely he lay
In my womb when his life was begun.
Alas! that I see this sad sight
Of my son so seemly and good.
Alas!  that this blossom so bright
All sinless is nailed to the rood,
I cry.
My lord, my life,
With full great grief
Hangs as a thief-
Alas! hangs sinlessly.

JESUS

Woman, I bid thee weep no more,
My case in no wise canst thou mend.
My Father's will I do; therefore
For mankind's sake my life I lend.

MARY

Alas! that thou wilt not remain.
How should I but weep for thy woe?
My comfort all is turned to pain.
Alas! why must we part in twain,
For ever?

JESUS

Woman, instead of me,
Lo! John thy son shall be;
John, see to thy mother free,
For my sake, so endeavour.

MARY

Alas, son!   Alas for thy plight.
Ah ! would I were closed in clay,
A sword of such sorrow doth smite.
Ah! would I were dead this day.

JOHN

Ah! mother, say not so, I pray.
Be still in this crowd, it were best.
For with all the might that I may
I would bring you to comfort and rest
Alway.

Your own son dear
Lo! ready here
Now I appear,
I pray you, hence. Let us away.

MARY

How should I be silent here?
Should I bear such a sorrow to see?
My son that is precious and dear,
So doleful a death dies he.

JOHN

Yet weep not so piteously
Your mourning has no might to mend.

MARY   CLEOPAS

Ah ! Mary, now trust unto me;
For succour to thee will he send
This tide.

JOHN

          Fair mother, fast
          Hence let us haste.

MARY

          Till he be passed
          Still near to him here I abide.

JESUS

With bitterest woe have I bought
O man, thy misdeeds to amend,
Look on me—see that thou miss nought-
How obedient my body I bend,
No wight in this world would have thought
What sorrow I bear for thy sake.
Man, see what our kinship has wrought
Good heed then I bid thee to take,
And trust.
For foxes, their dens have they,
Birds in their nests may stay,
But the Son of Man this day
Knows not where his head he may rest.

THIEF ON LEFT

If you truly be God's son so free,
Why hangest thou here thus on high?
So save now thyself—let us see—
And save us, who speed so to die.

THIEF ON RIGHT

Man, cease of thy shout and be still,
For doubtless thou dreadest God nought.
To die we deserve well; such ill
Such evil and wrong have we wrought.
True 'tis,
No ill did he,
Yet must he die.
Lord, think on me,
When thou art come to thy bliss.

JESUS

In truth, son, to thee will I say,
Since thou from thy folly wouldst fall,
With me shalt thou dwell now this day
In Paradise, heaven's high hall,
Eloi! Eloi!
My God, my God, oh why —
Lama Sabachthani —
Hast thou forsaken me
In woe ?
Yet did I never ill,
To such a death to go,
But be it at thy will,
Ah! I thirst so.

BOY

A drink shall I bring thee indeed,
A draught that is dainty and deep.
Full fast shall I spring for to speed,
And promptly my promise to keep.

CAIAPHAS

Sir Pilate, thou prince of great might,
Hark! “Elias” I now heard him cry.
He imagines that that worthy wight
In haste for to help him will hie
In his need.

PILATE

If he do so,
He shall have woe.

ANNAS

He were our foe,
If he set him to do such a deed.

BOY

Now, sweet sir, your will if it were,
A draught here of drink have I dressed.
No need for expense now to spare,
But boldly drink all with the best,
Vinegar and gall
Are mixed withal;
Drink it ye shall;
Your lips, I can see, are full dry.

JESUS

No harm from thy drink shall befall,
For know, I will take of it none.
Now Father, thou Maker of all,
To thy majesty make I my moan.
Thy will have I wrought as my own.
Thus tortured and torn on this rood,
Here sadly to death am I done.
Forgive them, by grace that is good;
They knew not what it was.
My Father, grant this boon;
For now, since all is done,
My spirit to thee right soon
Commend I in Manus tuas.

MARY

Ah! gentle son, Jesus so dear,
My heart is as heavy as lead.
Thy word I shall nevermore hear.
Alas! now my dear son is dead.
All sweetness, all comfort is sped;
My darling is gone evermore.

JOHN

Sweet mother dear, hold up thy head,
And sigh not with sorrows so sore.

MARY CLEOPAS

          It gives her pain
          To see him slain.
          Come home again.
          O heavy and pitiful day!

CAYPHAS

Sir Pilate, dispose you, I pray,
Our customs to keep as ye can.
The morn is our dear Sabbath day;
To mirth must we move every man.
Those varlets have waxed full wan,
And needs must that they buried be;
So hasten their death, sir, and then
Shall we go to our said solemn day
 In deed.

PILATE

          That will we do
          In words fall few.
          Sir knights, go you,
          To yon harlots there kindly give heed,
          Those caitiffs kill thou with thy knife;
          Make haste; let them quickly be dead.

SOLDIER

My lord, I will treat so their life,
That those rascals shall bite no more bread.

PILATE

Sir Longeus, step forth a pace.
This spear, lo, take now in thy hand.
To Jesus go swift, I command,
And stay not, but boldly go stand
A space.

In Jesus' side
Shove it this tide.
No longer bide,
But get thee now straight to the place.

LONGEUS pierces the side of JESUS

LONGEUS

O maker unmade, full of might,
O Jesus so kind of intent,
That sudden has sent me my sight,
Lord, love to thee ever be lent.
On rood thou art tortured and rent,
Mankind for to free from his fall.
So piteously spilt here and spent,
Thy blood, Lord, is bliss to us all
Full free.
Ah! mercy my succour,
Mercy my treasure,
 Mercy my saviour.
Thy mercy be marked in me.

CENTURION

O wonderful worker is this!
The daylight is waxed full wan
True token I trow that it is
That mercy is meant unto man.
Full clearly believe now I can
No fault in him here could they show,
Yet doomed they an innocent man
His life by their law to forgo—
Foul shamE!
Truly I say.
God's very son
Was he this day,
That so to his doleful death came.

Enter JOSEPH NICHODEMUS

JOSEPH

The Lord everlasting and true.
Sir Pilate, now save you, I pray;
And ever with favour pursue,
And all you high worthies to-day.

PILATE

Sir Joseph, now truly I say,
Thou here art full welcome to me;
Then tell me as plain as you may
Thy worthy will, what it may be
To have.

JOSEPH

This then I pray—
Give me to-day
Jesus' body,
To take and prepare for the grave.

PILATE

Sir Joseph, I grant thy request
Nor grudge if thou lay him in grave.
Make haste, then.
Soon let him be dressed,
And seek, sir, our Sabbath to save.

JOSEPH

Sir Pilate, with heart and with hand
I thank thee, in faith, for my friend.
In God's care mayst thou ever stand.
Now quickly my way will I wend,
And fly
To do that deed.
He be my speed
Whose arms were spread
Mankind with his life blood to buy.

NICHODEMUS

Well met, sir. Now, as I believe,
Since Jesus unjust men did slay.
You laboured for licence and leave
To bury his body to-day.

JOSEPH

Indeed, sirs that matter I meant,
And so will I do$ if I may.

NICHODEMUS

Together I would that we went,
Nor let any matter make stay
For fear.
Our friend was he,
Faithful and free.

JOSEPH

Therefore go we,
To bury that body so dear.

…………………………..…..

Let every man mark in his mind
This sight which is sorrow to see.
No falseness in him could they find,
But murdered him mercilessly.

NICHODEMUS

Between us now take we him down,
And lay him along on this land.

JOSEPH

O reverend and rich of renown,
Let us lift him and hold him with hand.
A grave have I ordered nearby;
It never was needed, 'tis new.

NICHODEMUS

There fitly his body may lie,
With honour both comely and due
To have.
A sudary,
Lo! here have I.
So shall he lie
     In winding sheet and quiet grave.

NICHODEMUS

Now, Saviour of me and of all,
O keep us in cleanness from ill.

JOSEPH

To thy mercy, dear Lord, do I call;
My Saviour, I would do thy will.
So guide that no sadness may fall;
Live true in this land may I still.
To thee, King, on knees do I kneel,
And pray thee to keep me in bliss.

NICHODEMUS

Remember, Lord; mend where I miss
Now done is our dear duty here,
This tide.

JOSEPH

This Lord so good
That shed His blood,
Amend your mood,
And bring you in bliss for to bide.