5    10    15    20    25    30    35    40    45    50    55    60    65    70    75    80    85    90    95    100    105    110    115    120    125	DEUS Now hevyn is made for aungell sake. The fyrst day and the fyrst nyth; The secunde day watyr I make, The walkyn also ful fayr and bryth; The thryd day, I parte watyr from erthe, Tre and every growyng thing, Bothe erbe and floure of suete smellyng; The thryd day is made be my werkyng. Now make I the day that shal be the ferthe. Sunne and mone and sterrys also, The forthe day I make in-same. The fifte day: werme and fysch that swymme and go, Byrdys and bestys, bothe wylde and tame. The sexte day, my werk I do And make the man, Adam be name. In erthelech paradys withowtyn wo I graunt thee bydyng lasse thu do blame. Flesch of thi flesch, and bon of thi bon: Adam, here is thi wyf and make. Both fysche and foulys that swymmyn and gon To everych of hem a name thu take. Bothe tre and frute and bestys echon, Red and qwtye, bothe blew and blake — Thu geve hem name be thiself alon, Erbys and gresse both beetys and brake. Thi wyff thu geve name also. Loke that ye not ses Yowre frute to encres — That ther may be pres Me worchipe for to do. Now come forth, Adam, to paradys! Ther shalt thu have all maner thynge: Bothe flesch and fysch and frute of prys, All shal be buxum at thi byddyng. Here is pepyr, pyan, and swete lycorys — Take hem all at thi lykyng — Both appel and pere and gentyl rys. But towche nowth this tre that is of cunnyng. Allthynge, saff this, for thee is wrought. Here is allthinge that thee shulde plese. All redy made onto thin ese. Ete not this frute ne me dysplese, For than thu deyst thu skapyst nowth. Now have I made allthynge of nowth, Hevyn and erth, foull and best. To allthynge that myn hand hath wrowth, I graunt myn blyssyng that evyr shal lest. My wey to hefne is redy sowth: Of werkyng I wole the sefnt day rest. And all my creaturys that be abowth, My blyssyng ye have both est and west, Of werkyng the sefnt day, ye sees. And all tho that sees of laboryng here The sefnt day, withoutyn dwere, And wurchyp me in good manere — Thei shal in hefne have endles pes. Adam, go forth and be prynce in place, For to hefne I sped my way. Thi wyttys wel loke thu chase, And gostly governe thee as I say. ADAM Holy Fadyr, blyssyd thu be, For I may walke in welthe anow. I fynde datys gret plenté, And many fele frutys ful every bow. All this wele is govyn to me And to my wyf that on me lowh. I have no nede to towche yon tre Agens my Lordys wyl to werke now — I am a good gardenere. Every frute of ryche name I may gaderyn with gle and game. To breke that bond I were to blame That my Lord bad me kepyn here. EVA We may both be blythe and glad, Oure Lordys comaundement to fulfyll With fele frutys be we fayr fad, Woundyr dowcet and nevyr on ill. Every tre with frute is sprad Of them to take as plesyth us tyll. Oure witte were rakyl and ovyrdon bad To forfete ageyns oure Lordys wyll In ony wyse. In this gardeyn I wyl go se All the flourys of fayr bewté And tastyn the frutys of gret plenté That be in paradyse. SERPENS Heyl, fayr wyff and comely dame! This frute to ete I thee cownselle. Take this appyl and ete this same! This frute is best as I thee telle. EVA That appyl to ete I were to blame, From joy oure Lorde wold us expelle! We shuld dye and be put out with schame In joye of paradyse nevyrmore to duelle God hymself thys sayde! What day of that frute we ete. With these wurdys, God dyd us threte That we shuld dye, our lyff to lete. Therffore, I am affrayde. SERPENS Of this appyl — yf ye wyl byte — Evyn as God is, so shal ye be! Wys of connyng — as I yow plyte — Lyke onto God in al degré! Sunne and mone and sterrys bryth, Fysch and foule, bothe sond and se, At your byddyng bothe day and nyth: Allthynge shal be in yowre powsté. Ye shal be Goddys pere! Take this appyl in thin hond, And to byte therof, thu fond. Take another to thin husbond; Therof have thu no dwere. EVA So wys as God is in his gret mayn And felaw in kunnyng fayn wold I be. SERPENS Ete this appyl, and in certeyn, That I am trewe sone shalt thu se! EVA To myn husbond with herte ful fayn, This appyl I bere as thu byddyst me. This frute to ete, I shal asayn. So wys as God is — yf we may be — And Goddys pere of myth. To myn husbond I walke my way And of this appyl I shal asay To make hym to ete — yf that I may — And of this frewte to byth.	the angels'; (see note); (t-note) (t-note) firmament; (t-note) by fourth moon; stars together by name earthly to live in unless; sin bone mate them; you give each one white; pale them; by bracken wife do not cease increase a throng To worship me excellence obedient peony; licorice; (see note) them rice not; knowledge; (see note) Everything, except this; created everything your pleasure nor die without escape from nought fowl; beast (see note) last; (t-note) to be found; (t-note) seventh east seventh; cease those; cease; hear (understand) certainly (without doubt) peace [that] place; (see note) encourage guide yourself spiritually blessed enough; (t-note) dates [in] fine; bough wealth; given; (t-note) smiles Lord's honorable; (t-note) with glee and pleasure would be a sin bade me Lord's abundant; fed Wondrously sweet; a bad one unstable and evil To transgress; Lord's any way (t-note) (see note) (t-note) threaten forfeit I swear to you moon; stars shore; sea Everything; power your; (t-note) try your fear strength equal; gladly truly truthful immediately gladly; (see note); (t-note) try [To be] as wise God's peer; might try bite
	[Hic Eua reueniet Ade viro suo et dicet ei:1
130    135    140    145    150    155    160    165    170    175    180    185    190    195    200    205    210    215    220    225    230    235    240    245    250    255    260    265    270    275    280	My semely spowse and good husbond, Lysteneth to me, sere, I yow pray: Take this fayr appyl all in your hond, Therof a mursel byte and asay. To ete this appyl, loke that ye fonde: Goddys felaw to be alway. All his wysdam to undyrstonde, And Goddys pere to be for ay, Allthyng for to make, Both fysch and foule, se and sond, Byrd and best, watyr and lond. This appyl thu take out of myn hond — A bete therof thu take. ADAM I dare not towch thin hand for dred Of oure Lord God omnypotent! If I shuld werke after thi reed, Of God, oure Makere, I shuld be shent! If that we do this synful dede, We shal be ded by Goddys jugement! Out of thin hand, with hasty spede, Cast out that appyl anon present For fer of Goddys threte! EVA Of this appyl, yf thu wylt byte, Goddys pere thu shalt be pyht. So wys of kunnyng — I thee plyht — This frute yf thu wylt ete. ADAM If we it ete, oureself we kylle! As God us told, we shuld be ded To ete that frute and my lyf to spylle. I dar not do aftyr thi reed! EVA A fayr aungell thus seyd me tylle: “To ete that appyl, take nevyr no dred. So kunnyng as God in hevyn hille, Thu shalt sone be withinne a sted; Therfore, this frute thu ete.” ADAM Of Goddys wysdam for to lere, And in kunnyng to be his pere, Of thyn hand I take it here And shal sone tast this mete. [Adam dicit sic: Alas! Alas, for this fals dede! My flesly frend, my fo I fynde. Schameful synne doth us unhede: I se us nakyd before and behynde — Oure Lordys wurd wold we not drede. Therfore, we be now caytyvys unkynde! Oure pore prevytes for to hede — Summe fygge levys fayn wolde I fynde, For to hyde oure schame. Womman, ley this leff on thi pryvyté! And with this leff I shal hyde me. Gret schame it is, us nakyd to se Oure Lord God thus to grame! EVA Alas, that evyr that speche was spokyn That the fals aungel seyd onto me. Alas, oure Makers byddyng is brokyn, For I have towchyd his owyn dere tre. Oure flescly eyn byn al unlokyn, Nakyd for synne, ouresylf we se. That sory appyl that we han sokyn To deth hath brouth my spouse and me. Ryth grevous is oure synne Of mekyl shame now do we knowe! Alas, that evyr this appyl was growe To dredful deth, now be we throwe In peyne us evyr to pynne. DEUS Adam, that with myn handys I made, Where art thu now? What hast thu wrought? ADAM A, Lord, for synne oure flourys do fade! I here thi voys, but I se thee nought. DEUS Adam, why hast thu synnyd so sone, Thus hastyly to breke my bone? And I made thee mayster undyr mone, Trewly of every tre. O tre, I kept for my owe: Lyff and deth therin I knowe. Thi synne fro lyf now thee hath throwe, From deth thu mayst not fle. ADAM Lord, I have wrought agens thi wyll! I sparyd nat mysylf to spylle. The woman that thu toke me tylle — Sche brougth me therto. It was her counsell and her reed: Sche bad me do the same deed. I walke as werm withoutyn wede, Awey is schrowde and sho. DEUS Womman, that arte this mannys wyffe, Why hast thu steryd youre bothers stryffe? Now ye be from youre fayr lyffe And are demyd for to deye. Unwys womman, sey me why That thu hast don this fowle foly? And I made thee a gret lady In paradys for to pleye. EVA Lord, whan thu wentyst from this place, A werm with an aungelys face — He hyth us to be ful of grace, The frute yf that we ete. I dyd his byddyng, alas, alas! Now be we bowndyn in dethis las. I suppose it was Sathanas To peyne he gan us pete. DEUS Thou werm — with thi wylys wyk — Thi fals fables, thei be ful thyk. Why hast thu put dethis pryk In Adam and his wyff? Thow thei bothyn my byddyng have brokyn, Out of whoo yet art not wrokyn. In helle logge thu shalt be lokyn And nevyr mo lacche lyff. DIABOLUS I shal thee sey wherefore and why I dede hem all this velony, For I am ful of gret envy Of wreth and wyckyd hate That man shulde leve above the sky, Whereas sumtyme dwellyd I. And now I am cast to helle sty Streyte out at hevyn gate. DEUS Adam, for thu that appyl boot Agens my byddyng well I woot, Go teyl thi mete: with swynk and swoot Into thi lyvys ende; Goo nakyd, ungry, and barefoot; Ete both erbys, gres, and root. Thy bale hath non other boot, As wrecch in werlde thu wende. Womman, thu sowtyst this synnyng And bad hym breke myn byddyng. Therfore, thu shalt ben undyrlyng To mannys byddyng bend. What he byddyth thee, do thu that thynge, And bere thi chyldere with gret gronynge, In daungere and in deth dredynge Into thi lyvys ende. Thou wyckyd worm, ful of pryde, Fowle envye syt be thi side. Upon thi gutt thu shalt glyde, As werm wyckyd in kende. Tyl a maydon in medyl-erth be born — Thu fende, I warn thee beforn — Thorwe her thi hed shal be totorn. On wombe awey thu wende. DIABOLUS At thi byddyng, fowle I falle. I krepe hom to my stynkyng stalle. Helle pyt and hevyn halle Shul do thi byddyng bone. I falle down here a fowle freke. For this falle I gynne to qweke — With a fart my brech I breke — My sorwe comyth ful sone. DEUS For youre synne that ye have do, Out of this blysse sone shal ye go. In erthly labour to levyn in wo And sorwe thee shal atast. For youre synne and mysdoyng, An angell, with a swerd brennyng, Out of this joye he shal yow dyng. Youre welth awey is past.	sir try try God's equal God's peer; all time Everything sea and shore beast hand bite your advice By; punished dead your right now fear God's equal; set I swear to you (t-note) dead ruin dare; advice to me; (see note) fear Heaven's hills in a moment learn; (t-note) peer food Adam says this; (see note) (see note) fleshly; foe reveals; (t-note) Lord's; fear; (see note) wicked scoundrels poor private parts; hide leaves leaf; privates anger Maker's commandment eyes are unlocked; (t-note) wretched; fed upon (consumed) great thrown to fix (see note) you done flowers; (see note) soon; (t-note) commandment [the] moon own cast against; (see note) to ruin gave to me advice as a worm; clothing Without clothing or shoes man's stirred up strife for both of you; (t-note) (t-note) doomed tell me foul to enjoy serpent; angel's promised that we'd be death's snare Satan he put us in pain snake; wicked wiles thick Though they both woe; [you] are not rescued locked; (t-note) take tell you; (see note) caused them; villainy wrath live; (i.e., in heaven) at one time the pit of hell heaven's bit; (see note); (t-note) Against; know till [for] your food; toil and sweat Unto; life's hungry herbs, grass suffering; relief sought bade be an; (t-note) man's danger; dreading Unto; life's by; (t-note) by nature on earth Through her; torn to pieces On [your] belly; go dwelling command demon to fart breeches soon done; (see note) to live taste burning sword drive
	[Hic recedit Deus, et angelus seraphicus cum gladio flammea verberat Adam et Euam extra paradisum.2; (t-note)
285    290    295    300    305    310    315    320    325    330	SERAPHIM Ye wrecchis unkend and ryht unwyse: Out of this joye hygh yow in hast, With flammyng swerd from paradyse To peyn I bete yow, of care to tast. Youre myrth is turnyd to carfull syse; Youre welth with synne awey is wast. For youre false dede of synful gyse, This blysse I spere from yow ryth fast. Herein come ye no more Tyl a chylde of a mayd be born And upon the rode rent and torn To save all that ye have forlorn, Youre welth for to restore. EVA Alas, alas, and wele away, That evyr towchyd I the tre! I wende as wrecch in welsom way In blake busshys my boure shal be. In paradys is plenté of pleye: Fayr frutys ryth gret plenté — The gatys be schet with Godys keye. My husbond is lost because of me. Leve spowse, now thu fonde. Now stomble we on stalk and ston, My wyt awey is fro me gon! Wrythe onto my necke bon With hardnesse of thin honde! ADAM Wyff, thi wytt is not wurth a rosch! Leve woman, turne thi thought. I wyl not sle flescly of my flesch. For of my flesch, thi flesch was wrought. Oure hap was hard; oure wytt was nesch To paradys whan we were brought. My wepyng shal be longe fresch: Schort lykyng shal be longe bought. No more telle thu that tale: For yf I shulde sle my wyff, I sclow myself withowtyn knyff In helle logge to lede my lyff With woo in wepyng dale. But lete us walke forth into the londe: With ryth gret labour oure fode to fynde, With delvyng and dyggyng with myn hond; Oure blysse to bale and care to pynde. And wyff, to spynne now must thu fonde, Oure nakyd bodyes in cloth to wynde Tyll sum comforth of Godys sonde With grace releve oure careful mynde. Now come, go we hens, wyff. EVA Alas, that ever we wrought this synne Oure bodely sustenauns for to wynne. Ye must delve, and I shal spynne In care to ledyn oure lyff.	wicked haste with sorrow to taste sorrowful sighs wasted conduct shut off from cross lost woe is me go; desolate black; dwelling joy shut; God's Dear; go on; (see note) mind Wring my your hand worth a rush (i.e., worthless); (t-note) Dear slay flesh; (see note) fortune; weak when last a long time Brief pleasure; (see note) slay slay; without a knife In hell's prison; (t-note) valley of tears; (see note) (see note) my hand to lessen our suffering and cares; (t-note) try dress God's messenger sorrowful (see note) (t-note)