[fol. 3r] BOY 5 10 15 20 CAIN 26 30 35 BOY CAIN 40 BOY CAIN 45 BOY 49 CAIN BOY CAIN BOY 54 CAIN ABEL 60 CAIN 65 ABEL 70 75 80 85 CAIN 90 95 ABEL 100 CAIN ABEL 105 CAIN ABEL CAIN 111 115 ABEL CAIN 121 125 130 ABEL 135 CAIN 140 145 ABEL CAIN 150 155 ABEL CAIN 161 165 ABEL 170 CAIN ABEL 174 CAIN ABEL 180 CAIN 185 190 195 200 205 210 ABEL CAIN 215 [fol. 5r] 220 ABEL CAIN ABEL CAIN 228 230 234 ABEL CAIN 240 245 ABEL CAIN 250 255 ABEL 260 CAIN 265 ABEL CAIN 270 [fol. 6r] 276 280 285 ABEL CAIN 290 GOD 295 CAIN 300 305 ABEL CAIN ABEL 311 CAIN 315 ABEL CAIN 320 ABEL CAIN 326 ABEL 331 CAIN 335 [fol. 5v] 341 GOD CAIN 345 GOD CAIN 350 GOD 355 CAIN 360 365 370 GOD 375 CAIN 380 385 BOY CAIN BOY 391 394 CAIN [fol. 6v] BOY 401 CAIN BOY 405 CAIN BOY 411 CAIN BOY CAIN 415 419 BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN BOY CAIN 440 BOY CAIN [fol. 7r] 445 BOY 450 CAIN 455 460 465 470 475

Boy (Pikeharness) Cain Abel God Mactacio Abel, secunda pagina.1 All hayll, all hayll, both blithe and glad, For here com I, a mery lad! Be peasse youre dyn, my master bad, Or els the dwill you spede. Wote ye not I com before? Bot who that janglis any more, He must blaw my blak hoill bore Both behynd and before Till his tethe blede. Felows, here I you forbede To make nother nose ne cry; Whoso is so hardy to do that dede, The dwill hang hym up to dry. Gedlyngys, I am a fulle grete wat. A good yoman my master hat; Full well ye all hym ken. Begyn he with you for to stryfe, Certys, then mon ye never thryfe. Bot I trow bi God on life Som of you ar his men. Bot let youre lippis cover youre ten, Harlottys everichon; For if my master com, welcom hym then. Farewell, for I am gone. Io furth, Greynhorne, and war oute, Gryme! Drawes on, God gif you ill to tyme. Ye stand as ye were fallen in swyme! What, will ye no forther, mare? War, let me se how Down will draw. Yit, shrew, yit pull on a thraw. What, it semys for me ye stand none aw. I say, Donnyng, go fare! Aha! God gif thee soro and care. Lo, now hard she what I saide? Now, yit art thou the warst mare In plogh that ever I haide. How, Pikeharnes, how! com heder, belife. I fend, Godys forbot, that ever thou thrife. What, boy, shal I both hold and drife? Heris thou not how I cry? Say, Mall and Stott, will ye not go? Lemyng, Morell, Whitehorne, io! Now will ye not se how thay hy? Gog gif thee sorow, boy. Want of mete it gars. Thare provand, syr, forthi I lay behynd thare ars, And tyes them fast bi the nekys With many stanys in thare hekys. That shall bi thi fals chekys! And have agane as right! I am thi master; wilt thou fight? Yai, with the same mesure and weght That I boro will I qwite. Wé, now nothyng bot call on tyte That we had ployde this land. 2 Harrer, Morell! io furth, hyte! And let the plogh stand. God, as he both may and can, Spede thee, brother, and thi man. Com kis myne ars! Me list not ban, As welcom standys ther oute. 3 Thou shuld have bide til thou were cald. Com nar, and other drife or hald, And kys the dwillis toute. Go grese thi shepe under the toute For that is thee moste lefe. Broder, ther is none here aboute That wold thee any grefe. Bot, leif brother, here my sawe: It is the custom of oure law All that wyrk as the wise Shall worship God with sacrifice. Oure fader us bad, oure fader us kend, That oure tend shuld be brend. Com furth, brothere, and let us gang To worship God; we dwell full lang. Gif we hym parte of oure fee, Corne or catall wheder it be. And therfor, brother, let us weynd And first clens us from the feynd Or we make sacrifice; Then blis withoutten end Get we for oure servyce Of hym that is oure saulis leche. How! let furth youre geyse, the fox will preche. How long wilt thou me appech With thi sermonyng? Hold thi tong, yit I say, Even ther the good wife strokid the hay, Or sit downe in the dwill way With thi vayn carpyng. Shuld I leife my plogh and all thyng And go with thee to make offeryng? Nay, thou fyndys me not so mad. Go to the dwill and say I bad. What gifys God thee to rose hym so? Me gifys he noght bot soro and wo. Caym, leife this vayn carpyng, For God giffys thee all thi lifyng. Yit boroed I never a farthyng Of hym; here my hand. Brother, as elders have us kend First shuld we tend with oure hend And to his lofyng sithen be brend. 4 My farthyng is in the preest hand Syn last tyme I offyrd. Leif brother, let us be walkand; I wold oure tend were profyrd. Wé! wherof shuld I tend, leif brothere? For I am ich yere wars then othere. Here my trouth, it is none othere: My wynnyngys ar bot meyn; No wonder if that I be leyn. Full long till hym I may me meyn, For bi hym that me dere boght I traw that he will leyn me noght. Yis, all the good thou has in wone Of Godys grace is bot a lone. Lenys he me? As come thrift apon thee so, For he has ever yit beyn my fo. For had he my freynd beyn Othergatys it had beyn seyn. When all mens corn was fayre in feld Then was myne not worth a neld. When I shuld saw and wantyd seyde And of corn had full grete neyde, Then gaf he me none of his; No more will I gif hym of this. Hardely hold me to blame Bot if I serve hym of the same. Leif brother, say not so, Bot let us furth togeder go. Good brother, let us weynd sone; No longer here I rede we hone. Yei, yei, thou jangyls waste. The dwill me spede if I have hast As long as I may lif To dele my good or gif, Ather to God or yit to man, Of any good that ever I wan. For had I giffen away my goode, Then myght I go with a ryffen hood, And it is better hold that I have Then go from doore to doore and crave. Brother, com furth in Godys name. I am full ferd that we get blame; Hy we fast that we were thore. Wé, ryn on in the dwills nayme before. Wemay, man, I hold thee mad. Wenys thou now that I list gad To gif away my warldys aght? The dwill hym spede that me so taght. What nede had I my travell to lose, To were my shoyn and ryfe my hose? Dere brother, hit were grete wonder That I and thou shuld go in sonder. Then wold oure fader have grete ferly. Ar we not brether thou and I? No, bot cry on, cry whyls thee thynk good. Here my trowth: I hold thee woode. Wheder that he be blithe or wroth To dele my good is me full lothe. I have gone oft on softer wise Ther I trowed som prow wold rise Bot well I se go must I nede; Now weynd before, ill myght thou spede, Syn that we shall algatys go. Leif brother, whi sais thou so? Bot go we furth both togeder. Blissid be God we have fare weder. Lay downe thi trussell apon this hill. Forsoth, broder, so I will. Gog of heven take it to good. Thou shall tend first, if thou were wood. God that shope both erth and heven, I pray to thee thou here my steven And take in thank, if thi will be, The tend that I offre here to thee, For I gif it in good entent To thee my lord, that all has sent. I bren it now with stedfast thoght In worship of hym that all has wroght. Ryse, let me now, syn thou has done. Lord of heven, thou here my boyne, And over Godys forbot be to thee Thank or thew to kun me. 5 For as browke I thise two shankys, It is full sore, myne unthankys, The teynd that I here gif to thee Of corn or thyng that newys me. Bot now begyn will I then, Syn I must nede my tend to bren. Oone shefe, oone, and this makys two, Bot nawder of thise may I forgo. Two, two, now this is thre; Yei, this also shall leif with me, For I will chose and best have — This hold I thrift — of all this thrafe. Wemo, wemo! foure, lo, here. Better greved me no this yere. At yere tyme, I sew fayre corn, Yit was it sich when it was shorne. Thystyls and brerys, yei, grete plenté, And all kyn wedys that myght be. Foure shefys, foure; lo, this makys fyfe. Deyll! I fast thus long or I thrife. Fyfe and sex, now this is sevyn, this gettys never God of heven. Nor none of thise foure at my myght Shall never com in Godys sight. Sevyn, sevyn, now this is aght. Cam, brother, thou art not God betaght. Wé, therfor is it that I say For I will not deyle my good away. Bot had I gyffen hym this to teynd Then wold thou say he were my freynd, Bot I thynk not, bi my hode, To departe so lightly fro my goode. Wé! aght, aght, and neyn, and ten is this. Wé, this may we best mys. Gif hym that that ligys thore; It goyse agans myn hart full sore. Cam, teynd right of all bedeyn. Wé, lo! twelve, fyfteyn, sexteyn. Caym, thou tendys wrang and of the warst. Wé, com nar and hide myne een. In the wenyand, wist ye now at last! Or els will thou that I wynk? Then shall I doy no wrong, me thynk. Let me se now how it is. Lo, yit I hold me paide. I teyndyd wonder well, bi ges, And so even I laide. Came, of God me thynke thou has no drede. Now and he get more, the dwill me spede, As mych as oone reepe! For that cam hym full light chepe, Not as mekill grete ne small As he myght wipe his ars withall. For that and this that lyys here Have cost me full dere. Or it was shorne and broght in stak Had I many a wery bak. Therfor aske me no more of this, For I have giffen that my will is. Cam, I rede thou tend right For drede of hym that sittys on hight. How that I tend, rek thee never a deill, Bot tend thi skabbid shepe wele. For if thou to my teynd tent take It bese the wars for thi sake. Thou wold I gaf hym this shefe or this sheyfe? Na, nawder of thise two wil I leife. Bot take this, now has he two. And for my saull now mot it go. Bot it gos sore agans my will And shal he like full ill. Cam, I reyde thou so teynd That God of heven be thi freynd. My freynd? Na, not bot if he will. I did hym never yit bot skill. If he be never so my fo, I am avisid gif hym no mo. Bot chaunge thi conscience as I do myn. Yit teynd thou not thi mesel swyne. If thou teynd right, thou mon it fynde. 6 Yei, kys the dwills ars behynde! The dwill hang thee bi the nek! How that I teynd never thou rek. Will thou not yit hold thi peasse? Of this janglyng I reyde thou seasse And, teynd I well or tend I ill, Bere thee even and speke bot skill. Bot now, syn thou has teyndid thyne, Now will I set fyr on myne. Wé! out, haro! help to blaw! It will not bren for me, I traw, Puf! this smoke dos me mych shame. Now bren, in the dwillys name! A, what dwill of hell is it? Almost had myne breth beyn dit. Had I blawen oone blast more, I had beyn choked right thore! It stank like the dwill in hell, That longer ther myght I not dwell. Cam, this is not worth oone leke; Thy tend shuld bren withoutten smeke. Com kys the dwill right in the ars! For thee it brens bot the wars. I wold that it were in thi throte — Fyr and shefe and ich a sprote. Cam, whi art thou so rebell Agans thi brother Abell? Thar thou nowther flyte ne chyde. 7 If thou tend right, thou gettys thi mede, And be thou sekir, if thou teynd fals, Thou bese alowed therafter als. Whi, who is that hob over the wall? Wé, who was that that piped so small? Com, go we hens for perels all; God is out of hys wit! Com furth, Abell, and let us weynd; Me thynk that God is not my freynd. On land then will I flyt. A, Caym, brother that is ill done. No, bot go we hens sone And, if I may, I shall be Ther as God shall not me see. Dere brother, I will fayre On feld ther oure bestys ar, To looke if thay be holgh or full. Na, na, abide; we have a craw to pull. 8 Hark, speke with me or thou go; What, wenys thou to skape so? Wé, na! I aght thee a fowll dispyte And now is tyme that I hit qwite. Brother, whi art thou so to me in ire? Wé, theyf, whi brend thi tend so shyre? Ther myne did bot smoked Right as it wold us both have choked. Godys will, I trow it were, That myn brened so clere; If thyne smoked, am I to wite? Wé, yei, that shal thou sore abite! With cheke bon, or that I blyn, Shal I thee and thi life twyn. So lig down ther and take thi rest; Thus shall shrewes be chastysed best. Veniance! veniance, Lord, I cry! For I am slayn and not gilty. Yei, ly ther, old shrew! ly ther, ly! And if any of you thynk I did amys, I shal it amend wars then it is, That all men may it se. Well wars then it is Right so shall it be. Bot now, syn he is broght on slepe, Into som hole fayn wold I crepe. For ferd I qwake and can no rede, For be I taken I be bot dede. Here will I lig thise fourty dayes. And I shrew hym that me fyrst rayse. Caym! Caym! Who is that that callis me? I am yonder may thou not se? Caym, where is thi brother Abell? What, askys thou me? I trow at hell. At hell I trow he be — Whoso were ther then myght he se — Or somwhere fallen on slepyng. When was he in my kepyng? Caym, Caym! thou was wode. The voyce of thi brotherys blode That thou has slayn on fals wise From erth to heven venyance cryse, And for thou has broght thi brother downe, Here I gif thee my malison. Yei, dele aboute thee, for I will none, Or take it thee when I am gone. Syn I have done so mekill syn That I may not thi mercy wyn, And thou thus dos me from thi grace, I shall hyde me fro thi face. And where so any man may fynd me Let hym slo me hardely, And where so any man may me meyte, Ayther bi sty or yit bi strete. And hardely, when I am dede, Bery me in Gudeboure at the quarell hede, For may I pas this place in quarte. Bi all men set I not a fart! Nay, Caym, it bese not so; I will that no man other slo. For he that sloys thee, yong or old, It shall be punyshid sevenfold. No force, I wote wheder I shall. In hell, I wote, mon be my stall. It is no boyte mercy to crave For, if I do, I mon none have. Bot this cors I wold were hid, For som man myght com at ungayn. “Fle fals shrew” wold he bid, And weyn I had my brother slayn. Bot were Pikeharnes my knafe here, We shuld bery hym both in fere. How, Pykeharnes, scapethryft! how Pikeharnes, how! Master, master. Harstow, boy, ther is a podyng in the pot. Take thee that, boy, tak thee that! I shrew thi ball under thi hode If thou were my syre of flesh and blode. 9 All the day to ryn and trott, And ever amang thou strykeand, Thus am I comen bofettys to fott. Peas, man, I did it bot to use my hand. Bot harke, boy, I have a counsell to thee to say: I slogh my brother this same day; I pray thee, good boy, and thou may, To ryn away with the bayn. Wé, out apon thee, thefe! Has thou thi brother slayn? Peasse, man, for Godys payn. I saide it for a skaunce. Yey, bot for ferde of grevance Here I thee forsake. We mon have a mekill myschaunce And the bayles us take. A, syr, I cry you mercy! Seasse, And I shall make you a releasse. What, wilt thou cry my peasse Thrughout this land? Yey, that I gif God a vow, belife. How will thou do, long or thou thrife? 10 Stand up, my good boy, belife. And thaym peasse, both man and wife. And whoso will do after me Full slape of thrift then shal he be. Bot thou must be my good boy, And cry oyes, oyes, oy! Browes, browes to thi boy. I commaund you in the kyngys nayme — And in my masteres, fals Cayme. That no man at thame fynd fawt ne blame — Yey, cold rost is at my masteres hame. Nowther with hym nor with his knafe — What, I hope my master rafe. For thay ar trew full manyfold — My master suppys no coyle bot cold. The kyng wrytys you untill. Yit ete I never half my fill. The kyng will that thay be safe — Yey, a draght of drynke fayne wold I hayfe. At thare awne will let tham wafe. My stomak is redy to receyfe. Loke no man say to theym on nor other — This same is he that slo his brother. Byd every man thaym luf and lowt — Yey, ill spon weft ay comes foule out. 11 Long or thou get thi hoyse, and thou go thus aboute! 12 Byd every man theym pleasse to pay — Yey, gif Don, thyne hors, a wisp of hay. Wé, com downe in twenty dwill way! The dwill I thee betake. For bot it were Abell my brothere Yit knew I never thi make. Now, old and yong, or that ye weynd, The same blissyng withoutten end All sam then shall ye have That God of heven my master has giffen. Browke it well whils that ye liffen; He vowche it full well safe. Com downe yit in the dwillys way, And angre me no more. And take yond plogh, I say, And weynd thee furth fast before, And I shall if I may Tech thee another lore. I warn thee lad, for ay, Fro now furth evermore That thou greve me noght. For bi Codys sydys, if thou do I shall hang thee apon this plo With this rope, lo, lad! lo, By hym that me dere boght. Now, fayre well, felows all, For I must nedys weynd, And to the dwill be thrall, Warld withoutten end. Ordand ther is my stall With Sathanas the feynd, Ever ill myght hym befall, That theder me commend This tyde. Fare well les, and fare well more, For now and evermore! I will go me to hyde. Explicit mactacio Abell; sequitur Noe. 13

(see note); (t-note) joyful peaceful; noise; bade; (see note) devil; help you know chatters blow; bore-hole; (see note) teeth forbid neither noise nor devil; (t-note) Scoundrels; person yeoman; is called know Certainly; must; thrive believe; alive lips; teeth; (see note) Scoundrels go forth; look out; (see note) pull; give; fare; (see note) swoon further; mare Beware villain; awhile seems to me; do not stand in awe give; sorrow heard worst plough; had here; at once forbid; forbid drive; (see note) hear go hasten; (see note); (t-note) God give Lack of food causes it Their provisions; therefore their asses tie; necks stones; hay-racks abide; cheeks; [fol. 3v]; (see note) Right back at you! weight What I receive; repay (see note) Giddy-up; go; (see note) (see note) Assist (see note) stayed; called near; either kiss; devil’s ass grease; (see note) to you; agreeable grief dear; hear; speech All who bade; taught; (see note) tithe; burnt go delay too long wealth Grain or livestock; whichever; (see note) go cleanse; devil Before soul’s physician geese delay preaching tongue where; stroked; (see note) devil’s way vain chatter leave crazy I told you to gives; praise; (see note) sorrow and woe leave; [fol. 4r] living borrowed; a quarter penny From; (see note); (t-note) taught hands priest’s Since Dear; walking tithe; offered with what each year worse off belief earnings; meager lean complain (t-note) believe; loan in abundance loan prosperity been; foe (t-note) It would have appeared otherwise (t-note) needle; (t-note) sow; seed Boldly Unless depart soon advise; tarry chatter uselessly help me; haste give goods; gained torn beg afraid Hurry; there Ah, run; [fol. 4v] (see note) Think; wish to wander worldly possessions assist work; waste wear out my shoes; tear go apart wonder brothers while truth; crazy in a gentler way Where I believed; advantage prosper in any case says fair weather bundle tithe; even if; mad created voice tithe burn (see note) prayer prohibition as I enjoy the use of these two legs tenth grows for me tithe; burn sheaves neither remain profit; bundle grew In season harvested briars all sorts of weeds sheaves Devil; before I thrive Five and six; seven eight come; committed to God divide; goods; (t-note) given; tithe head miss lies; there goes against; heart tithe; together; (see note) (t-note) wrongly; worst near; eyes; (see note) waning [moon], know close my eyes do by estimation if he get more; devil handful Before; stacked weary back advise that you tithe; care; not at all scabbed sheep tithe; pay attention will be the worse sheaf neither; (t-note) must not unless he so wishes; (t-note) what is reasonable foe more diseased swine kiss care cease steadily; reason; (t-note) fire (see note) burn; believe much been stopped there one leek burn; smoke worse fire; sheaf; each sprout rebellious reward assured; falsely will be paid accordingly (see note) feebly hence; perils escape soon Where fare field; are hungry (see note) before escape owed; foul injury pay it back anger thief; burned; brightly believe blame; (t-note) pay for bone; before I cease; (see note) part lie villains Vengeance guilty worse fain fear; know no counsel dead lie curse; annoys believe mad in a false manner vengeance cries curse (see note) much sin; (see note) wherever slay; boldly meet Either by path; street by all means Bury; quarry head; (see note) good health care I not (t-note) (t-note) No matter must; place no use body; would inconveniently suppose bury; together spendthrift You listen; pudding curse run striking blows to receive but; (see note) slew if (see note) (see note) joke fear of injury must; much misfortune If; bailiffs cease (see note) at once before silence them whoever Very fortunate; (see note) Pottage false with them; fault nor blame home; (t-note) neither; boy raves utterly true eats only cold cabbage soup orders eat gladly; have own; move receive slew; (see note) praise and obey (see note) (see note) horse (see note) Unless equal before you go Enjoy; live May he grant it (t-note) (see note) Teach; lesson ever From God’s loins bought slave World Ordained; place Satan the fiend there time hide (t-note)