Volume 2 — TO THE HOLY GOOSTE.

O firy feruence,[587] inflamed wyth all grace, Enkyndelyng hertes with brandis charitable, The endles reward of pleasure and solace, To the Father and the Son thou art communicable In unitate which is inseperable! O water of lyfe, O well of consolacion! Agaynst all suggestions dedly and dampnable Rescu me, good Lorde, by your preseruacion: To whome is appropryed the Holy Ghost by name, The Thyrde Parson, one God in Trinite, 10 Of perfyt loue thou art the ghostly flame: O myrrour of mekenes, pease, and tranquylyte, My confort, my counsell, my parfyt charyte! O water of lyfe, O well of consolacion! Agaynst all stormys of harde aduersyte Rescu me, good Lord, by thy preseruacion. Amen. Quod Skelton, Laureat.

Woffully araid,[588] My blode, man, For thé ran, It may not be naid; My body bloo and wan, Woffully araid. Beholde me, I pray thé, with all thi hole reson, And be not so hard hartid, and ffor this encheson, Sith I for thi sowle sake was slayne in good seson, Begylde and betraide by Judas fals treson; 10 Vnkyndly entretid, With sharpe corde sore fretid, The Jewis me thretid, They mowid, they grynned, they scornyd me, Condempnyd[589] to deth, as thou maist se, Woffully araid. Thus nakyd am I nailid, O man, for thy sake! I loue thé, then loue me; why slepist thou? awake! Remembir my tendir hart rote for thé brake, With panys my vaynys constreyn[e]d to crake; 20 Thus toggid to and fro, Thus wrappid all in woo, Whereas neuer man was so,[590] Entretid thus in most cruell wyse, Was like a lombe offerd in sacrifice, Woffully araid. Off sharpe thorne I haue worne a crowne on my hede, So paynyd, so straynyd, so rufull,[591] so red; Thus bobbid, thus robbid,[592] thus for thy loue ded, Onfaynyd[593] not deynyd[594] my blod for to shed; 30 My fete and handes sore The[595] sturdy nailis bore; What myȝt I suffir more Than I haue don, O man, for thé? Cum when thou list, wellcum to me, Woffully araide.[596] Off record thy good Lord y haue beyn and schal bee; Y am thyn, thou artt myne, my brother y call thee; Thé love I enterly; see whatt ys befall me! Sore bettyng, sore thretyng, too mak thee, man, all fre: 40 Why art thou wnkynde? Why hast nott mee yn mynde? Cum ȝytt, and thou schalt fynde Myne endlys mercy and grace; See how a spere my hert dyd race, Woyfully arayd. Deyr brother, noo other thyng y off thee desyre Butt gyve me thyne hert fre to rewarde myn hyre: Y wrouȝt thé, I bowgȝt thé frome eternal fyre; Y pray thé aray thé tooward my hyȝt empyre, 50 Above[597] the oryent, Wheroff y am regent, Lord God omnypotent, Wyth me too reyn yn endlys welthe; Remember, man, thy sawlys helthe. Woofully arayd, My blode, man, For thé rane, Hytt may nott be nayd; My body blow and wane, 60 Woyfully arayde. Explicit qd. Skelton.

Now synge we,[598] as we were wont, Vexilla regis prodeunt. The kinges baner on felde is [s]playd, The crosses mistry can not be nayd, To whom our Sauyour was betrayd, And for our sake; Thus sayth he, I suffre for thé, My deth I take. Now synge we, &c. Beholde my shankes, behold my knees, 10 Beholde my hed, armes, and thees, Beholde of me nothyng thou sees But sorowe and pyne; Thus was I spylt, Man, for thy gylte, And not for myne. Now synge we, &c. Behold my body, how Jewes it donge With knots of whipcord and scourges strong; As stremes of a well the blode out sprong On euery syde; 20 The knottes were knyt, Ryght well made with wyt, They made woundes wyde. Now synge we, &c. Man, thou shalt now vnderstand, Of my head, bothe fote and hand, Are four c. and fyue thousand Woundes and sixty; Fifty and vii. Were tolde full euen Vpon my body. 30 Now synge we, &c. Syth I for loue bought thé so dere, As thou may se thy self here, I pray thé with a ryght good chere Loue me agayne, That it lykes me To suffre for thé Now all this payne. Now synge we, &c. Man, vnderstand now thou shall, In sted of drynke they gaue me gall, And eysell mengled therwithall, 40 The Jewes fell; These paynes on me I suffred for thé To bryng thé fro hell. Now synge we, &c. Now for thy lyfe thou hast mysled, Mercy to aske be thou not adred; The lest drop of blode that I for thé bled Myght clense thé soone Of all the syn The worlde within, 50 If thou haddest doone. Now synge we, &c. I was more wrother with Judas, For he wold no mercy aske, Than I was for his trespas Whan he me solde; I was euer redy To graunt hym mercy, But he none wolde. Now synge we, &c. Lo, how I hold my armes abrode, Thé to receyue redy isprode![599] 60 For the great loue that I to thé had Well may thou knowe, Some loue agayne I wolde full fayne Thou woldest to me shewe. Now synge we, &c. For loue I aske nothyng of thé But stand fast in faythe, and syn thou fle, And payne to lyue in honeste Bothe nyght and day; And thou shalt have blys 70 That neuer shall mys Withouten nay. Now synge we, &c. Now, Jesu, for thy great goodnes, That for man suffred great hardnes, Saue vs fro the deuyls cruelnes, And to blys vs send, And graunt vs grace To se thy face Withouten ende. Now synge we, &c.

I, liber, et propera, regem tu pronus adora; Me sibi commendes humilem Skeltonida vatem: Ante suam majestatem, (per cætera passim,) Inclyta bella refer, gessit quæ maximus heros Anglorum, primus nostra de gente Ricardus, Hector ut intrepidus, contra validissima castra Gentis Agarenæ; memora quos ille labores, Quos tulit angores, qualesque recepit honores. Sed Chronica Francorum, validis inimica Britannis, Sæpe solent celebres Britonum compescere laudes. 10