English Mystery Plays (Penguin Classics)

Humour, pathos and pain, and the culminating drama of the Crucifixion and Resurrection, provide those performs a superb immediacy. Their motion was once conceived on a cosmic scale and all of the enthusiasm and energy in their writing is retained to this present day. The energies of entire groups, particularly at Chester, York and Wakefield, have been dedicated to their creation and so they have been to persuade later dramatists considerably. The grand layout of the secret performs was once to have a good time the Christian tale from 'The Fall of Lucifer' to the 'Judgement Day', and this quantity comprises thirty-eight performs, forming in itself a composite cycle and together with just about all the incidents universal to the extant cycles.

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No comforte may well i've got right here. I-wys, wyf, thou dedyst me wronge; unluckily, I taryed from the to longe. All males have pety on me amonge, For to my sorwe is not any chere. (14) MARIA: God, that during my physique artwork sesyd, Thou knowist myn husbond is dysplesyd To se me during this plight. one hundred thirty For unknowlage he's desesyd, And therfore aid that he have been esyd, That he myght knowe the ful perfyght. For i've got levyr abyde respyt10 To kepe thi Sone in privite, Grauntyd by way of the holy spyryt, Than that it xulde be opynd through me. [God sends the Angel. ] (15) DEUS: Descende, I sey, myn aungelle, directly to Joseph for to telle – reminiscent of my wyl is – one hundred forty Byd hym with Mary a-byde and dwelle, For it truly is my Sone ful snelle That she is with i-wys. ANGELUS: Almyghty God of blys, i'm redy for to wende, Wedyr as thi wyl is, to move bothe fer and hynde. [Appears to Joseph. ] 121 or ahead of speed passes 127 sesyd put a hundred thirty unknowlage lack of knowledge desesyd unsatisfied 132 the thee perfyght completely 141 snelle quickly, alive a hundred forty five Wedyr whither 146 fer a ways hynde close to (16) Joseph, Joseph, thou wepyst shyrle; Fro thi wyff why comyst thou owte? JOSEPH: sturdy sere, lete me wepe my fylle; a hundred and fifty cross forthe thi wey and lett me nowght. ANGELUS: In thi wepynge thou dost ryght ylle; Α-gens God thou hast mys-wrought. pass chere thi wyf with herty wylle, And chawnge thi chere, amende thi proposal; Sche is a ful clene may well. I telle the God wyl of the following be born, And sche clene mayd as she used to be be-forn, to save lots of mankynd that's for-lorn. pass chere hyre therfore I say. (17) one hundred sixty JOSEPH: A, lord God, benedicite! Of thi gret comforte I thank the That thou despatched me this area. I myght wel a wyst, parde, So solid a creature as she Wold nevyr a performed trespace, For sche is ful of grace. i do know wel i've got myswrought. I stroll to my pore position And aske for-gyfnes; i've got mys-thought. (18) one hundred seventy now could be the tyme sen at eye That the childe is now to veryfye, Which xal keep mankende, because it was once spoke be prophesye. I thank the God that syttys on hye, With hert wyl and mende, 147 shyrle shrill a hundred and fifty lett prevent 156 wyl will 159 hyre her 163 a have wyst identified parde by way of God one hundred seventy sen noticeable at eye to hand 171 veryfye turn out to be precise That evyr thou woldyst me bynde To wedde Mary to my wyff, Thi blysful Sone so nere to fynde, In his presens to lede my lyff. (9) one hundred eighty lamentably, for pleasure I qwedyr and qwake! unfortunately, what hap now used to be this? A, mercy, mercy, my jentyl make, Mercy: i've got seyd al amys. All that i've got seyd right here I for-sake; Your swete fete now lete me kys. MARY: Nay, lett be my fete, no longer tho ye take, My mowthe ye may well kys i-wys, And welcom on-to me. JOSEPH: Gramercy, myn owyn swete wyf! one hundred ninety Gramercy, myn hert, my love, my lyf! Xal I nevyr extra make suche stryf Be-twyx me and the. (20) A, Mary, Mary, wel thou be, And blyssyd be the frewte within the, Goddys Sone of myght. Now, strong wyf, ful of pyte, As be no longer evyl payd with me, Thow that thou have sturdy ryght. As for my wronge in syght 2 hundred To wyte the with ony synne11. Had thou no longer be a vertuous wythe, God wold no longer a be the with-inne.

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