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Play 38, Cleophas and Luke; Appearance to Thomas

 





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[Hic incipit aparicio Cleophe et Luce.

CLEOPHAS My brothir, Lucas, I yow pray:
My plesynge to yow if that it be,
To the castel of Emawus a lytyl way
That ye vowchesaf to go with me?
LUCAS All redy, brother, I walke with thee
To yone castell with ryght good chere.
Evyn togedyr, anon go we,
Brother Cleophas, we to in fere.

CLEOPHAS A, brother Lucas, I am sore mevyd
Whan Cryst, oure mayster, comyth in my mynde.
Whan that I thynke how he was grevyd,
Joye in myn herte kan I non fynde.
He was so lowlye, so good, so kynde,
Holy of lyf and meke of mood.
Alas, the Jewys! Thei were to blynde —
Hym for to kylle that was so good!

LUCAS Brothyr Cleophas, ye sey ful soth!
They were to cursyd and to cruell!
And Judas — that traytour — he was to loth,
For gold and sylvyr, his mayster to selle;
The Jewys were redy, hym for to qwelle,
With skorgys, bete out all his blood!
Alas, thei wer too fers and felle:
Shamfully, thei henge hym on a rood.

CLEOPHAS Ya, between to thevys — alas for shame —
They henge hym up with body rent!
Alas, alas! They were to blame.
To cursyd and cruel was ther intent.
Whan for thurste he was nere shent,
Eyzil and galle thei govyn hym to drynke.
Alas, for ruthe, his deth thei bent
In a fowle place of horryble stynke.

LUCAS Ya, and cawse in hym cowde they non fynde!
Alas, for sorwe what was here thought:
And he dede helpe bothe lame and blynde,
And all seke men that were hym browght.
Agens vice alwey he wrought —
Synfull ded wold he never do,
Yit hym to kylle, thei sparyd nought.
Alas, alas! Why dede they so?

JHESUS Well ovyrtake, ye serys in same —
To walke in felachep with yow, I pray.
LUCAS Welcom, sere, in Goddys name —
Of good felachep we sey not nay!
JHESUS Qwat is youre langage to me ye say
That ye have togedyr, ye to?
Sory and evysum ye been alway —
Youre myrthe is gon. Why is it so?

CLEOPHAS Sere, me thynkyth thu art a pore pylgrym
Here walkyng be thiselfe alone.
And in the ceté of Jerusalem,
Thu knowyst ryght lytyl what ther is done,
For pylgrymys comyn and gon ryth sone,
Ryght lytyl whyle pylgrymes do dwelle.
In all Jerusalem, as thu hast gone,
I trowe no tydyngys that thu canst telle.

JHESUS Why, in Jerusalem, what thynge is wrought?
What tydyngys fro thens brynge ye?
LUCAS A! Ther have they slayn a man for nought:
Gyltles he was, as we telle thee.
An holy prophete with God was he,
Myghtyly in wurde and eke in dede.
Of God he had ryght grett poosté!
Amonge the pepyl, his name gan sprede.

He hyght Jhesu of Nazareth,
A man he was of ryght grett fame.
The Jewys hym kylde with cruel deth,
Without trespas or any blame.
Hym to scorne, they had grett game
And naylid hym streyte ontyll a tre.
Alas, alas! Methynkyth grett shame —
Without cawse that this shulde be.

CLEOPHAS Ya, sere, and ryght grett troste in hym we had,
All Israel countré, that he shulde save.
The thrydde day is this that he was clad
In coold cley and leyd in grave.
Yitt, woundyrful tydyngys of hym we have
Of women that sought hym beforn daylyth.
Wethyr they sey truthe or ellys do rave,
We cannot telle the trew verdyth.

Whan Cryst in grave thei cowde not se,
They comyn to us and evyn thus tolde
How that an aungell seyd to them thre
That he shulde leve with brest ful bolde!
Yitt Petyr and Johan preve this wolde:
To Crystys grave, they ran thei tweyne,
And whan they come to the grave so coolde,
They fownde the women ful trewe, sertayne!

JHESUS A, ye fonnys and slought of herte!
For to beleve in Holy Scrypture,
Have not prophetys with wurdys smerte
Spoke be tokenys in signifure
That Cryste shulde deye for youre valure
And syth entre his joye and blys?
Why be ye of herte so dure
And trust not in God that myghtful is?

Bothe Moyses and Aaron and othyr mo
In Holy Scrypture, ye may rede it.
Of Crystis deth, thei spak also,
And how he shuld ryse out of his pitt.
Owt of feyth, than, why do ye flitte
Whan holy prophetys yow teche so pleyne?
Turne youre thought and chaunge youre witte
And truste wele that Cryst doth leve ageyne!

LUCAS Leve ageyn? Man, be in pes!
How shulde a ded man evyr aryse?
I cowncell thee such wurdys to ses.
For dowte of Pylat, that hygh justyce,
He was slayn at the gret asyse
Be councell of lordys, many on.
Of suche langage — take bettyr avise
In every company ther thu dost gon.

CHRISTUS Trewth dyd nevyr his maystyr shame.
Why shulde I ses, than, trewth to say?
Be Jonas, the prophete, I preve the same
That was in a whallys body thre nyghtis and thre day:
So longe Cryst in his grave lay
As Jonas was withinne the se.
His grave is brokyn that was of clay:
To lyff resyn agen now is he.

CLEOPHAS Sey nott so, man! It may not be —
Thow thyn exaunple be sumdele good.
For Jonas on lyve evyrmore was he,
And Cryst was slayn upon a rood.
The Jewys on hym, they were so wood
That to his herte, a spere they pyght!
He bled owt all his herte blood.
How shulde he, thanne, ryse with myght?

CHRISTUS Take hede at Aaron and his dede styk
Which was ded of his nature,
And yit he floryschyd with flowrys ful thyk
And bare almaundys of grett valure.
The ded styk was signifure
How Cryst, that shamfully was deed and slayn.
As that ded styk bare frute ful pure,
So Cryst shuld ryse to lyve ageyn.

LUCAS That a deed styk frute shulde bere,
I merveyle sore therof, iwys.
But yitt hymsylf fro deth to rere
And leve ageyn, more woundyr it is!
That he doth leve, I trost not this,
For he hath bled his blood so red.
But yitt of myrthe, evyrmoor I mys
Whan I have mende that he is ded.

CHRISTUS Why be ye so hard of truste?
Ded not Cryst reyse thorwe his owyn myght
Lazare, that deed lay undyr the duste
And stynkyd ryght foule, as I yow plyght?
To lyff Cryst reysid hym agen ful ryght,
Out of his grave — this is serteyn.
Why may nat Cryste hymself thus qwyght
And ryse from deth to leve ageyn?

CLEOPHAS Now trewly, sere, youre wurdys ben good.
I have in yow ryght grett delyght!
I pray yow, sere, with mylde mood
To dwelle with us all this nyght.
CHRISTUS I must go hens anon ful ryght,
For grett massagys I have to do.
I wolde abyde yf that I myght,
But at this tyme I must hens go.

LUCAS Ye shal not gon fro us this nyght!
It waxit all derke! Gon is the day!
The sonne is downe; lorn is the lyght.
Ye shal not gon from us away.
CHRISTUS I may not dwelle, as I yow say.
I must this nyght go to my frende.
Therfore, good bretheryn, I yow pray
Lett me not, my wey to wende.

CLEOPHAS Trewly from us ye shal not go.
Ye shal abyde with us here stylle!
Youre goodly dalyaunce plesyth us so,
We may nevyr have of yow oure fylle!
We pray yow, sere, with herty wylle:
All nyght with us abyde and dwelle,
More goodly langage to talkyn us tylle
And of youre good dalyaunce more for to telle.

LUCAS Ya, brothyr Cleophas, be myn assent:
Let us hym kepe with strenth and myght.
Sett on yowre hand with good entent
And pulle hym with us, the wey well ryght.
The day is done, sere, and now it is nyght.
Why wole ye hens now from us go?
Ye shal abyde, as I yow plyght;
Ye shal not walke this nyght us fro.

CLEOPHAS This nyght fro us ye go not away.
We shal yow kepe betwen us tweyne.
To us, therfore, ye sey not nay,
But walke with us — the wey is pleyne.
CHRISTUS Sythyn ye kepe me with myght and mayn,
With herty wyll I shal abyde.
LUCAS Of youre abydyng we be ful fayn —
No man more welkom in this werd wyde.

CLEOPHAS Of oure maystyr, Cryst Jhesu —
For ye do speke so mech good,
I love yow hertyly, trust me trew —
He was bothe meke and mylde of mood.
Of hym to speke is to me food.
If ye had knowe hym, I dare wel say —
And in what plyght with hym it stood —
Ye wold have thought on hym many a day.

LUCAS Many a day, ya, ya, iwys.
He was a man of holy levynge
Thow he had be the childe of God in blys.
Both wyse and woundyrfull was his werkynge.
But aftere youre labour and ferre walkynge,
Takyth this loff, and etyth sum bred;
And than wyl we have more talkynge
Of Cryst, oure maystyr, that is now ded.

CHRISTUS Beth mery and glad with hert ful fre,
For of Cryst Jhesu that was youre frende,
Ye shal have tydyngys of game and gle
Withinne a whyle, or ye hens wende.

With myn hand this bred I blys
And breke it here as ye do se.
I geve yow parte also of this,
This bred to ete, and blythe to be.

[Hic subito discedat Christus ab oculis eorum.1

CLEOPHAS A! Mercy, God! What was oure happe?
Was not oure hert with love brennynge
Whan Cryst, oure mayster, so nere oure lappe
Dede sitte and speke such suete talkynge?
He is now quyk and man lyvenge
That fyrst was slayn and put in grave.
Now may we chaunge all oure mornynge,
For oure Lord is resyn, his servauntys to save!

LUCAS Alas, for sorwe! What hap was this?
Whan he dyd walke with us in way
He prevyd by scripture ryght wel, iwys,
That he was resyn from undyr clay.
We trustyd hym not, but evyr seyd nay!
Alas, for shame! Why seyd we so?
He is resyn to lyve this day
Out of his grave oure Lord is go!

CLEOPHAS Latt us here no lengere dwelle,
But to oure bretheryn the wey we wende.
With talys trewe to them we telle
That Cryst doth leve, oure mayster and frende.
LUCAS I graunt therto with hert ful hende:
Let us go walke forthe in oure way.
I am ful joyfull in hert and mende
That oure Lord levyth that fyrst ded lay.

CLEOPHAS Now, was it not goodly don
Of Cryst Jhesu, oure mayster dere?
He hath with us a large wey gon,
And of his uprysyng he ded us lere.
Whan he walkyd with us in fere,
And we supposyd hym both deed and colde,
That he was aresyn from undyr bere —
Be Holy Scripture, the trewth he tolde!

LUCAS Ryght lovyngely don, forsothe, this was!
What myght oure mayster tyl us do more
Than us to chere, that forth dede pas?
And for his deth, we murnyd ful sore
For love of hym, oure myrthe was lore.
We were, for hym, ryght hevy in herte,
But now, oure myrth he doth restore,
For he is resyn bothe heyl and qwert!

CLEOPHAS That he is thus resyn, I have grett woundyr:
An hevy ston ovyr hym ther lay.
How shulde he breke the ston asoundyr
That was deed and colde in clay?
Every man, this mervayle may
And drede that Lorde of mekyl myght,
But yit of this, no man sey nay,
For we have seyn hym with opyn syght.

LUCAS That he doth leve, I woot wel this.
He is aresyn with flesch and blood,
A levynge man, forsothe he is,
That rewly was rent upon a rood.
All heyl, dere brothyr, and chaunge youre mood,
For Cryst doth levyn and hath his hele!
We walkyd in wey with Cryst so good
And spak with hym wurdys fele.

CLEOPHAS Evyn tyll Emawus, the grett castell,
From Jerusalem with hym we went —
Syxti furlonge, as we yow telle —
We went with hym, evyn passent.
He spak with us with good entent;
That Cryst shuld leve, he tolde tyll us
And previd it be Scripture, verament.
Trust me trewe — it is ryght thus!

LUCAS Ya, and whan he had longe spokyn us tylle,
He wold from us agon his way.
With strenght and myght we keptyn hym stylle.
And bred we tokyn hym to etyn, in fay.
He brak the loff as evyn on tway
As ony sharpe knyff shuld kytt breed!
Therby, we knew the trewth that day:
That Cryst ded leve and was not deed.

PETRUS Now trewly, serys, I have grett woundyr
Of these grete merveylis that ye us telle.
In brekynge of bred ful evyn asoundyr
Oure mayster ye knew and Lord ryght well?
Ye sey Cryst levith that Jewys dyd qwelle?
Tyll us glad tydyngys, this is serteyn!
And that oure mayster with yow so longe dede dwelle,
It doth well preve that he levith ageyn.

A, brother Thomas, we may be ryght glad
Of these gode novell that we now have.
The grace of oure Lorde God is over us all sprad!
Oure Lord is resyn, his servauntys to save!

THOMAS Be in pes, Petyr! Thu gynnyst to rave!
Thy wurdys be wantowne and ryght unwyse!
How shulde a deed man that deed lay in grave
With qwyk flesche and blood to lyve ageyn ryse?

PETRUS Yis, Thomas, dowte thee not oure maystyr is on lyve.
Record of Mawdelyn and of her systerys too?
Cleophas and Lucas, the trewthe for to contryve,
Fro Jerusalem to Emaws with hym dede they go!
THOMAS I may nevyr in hert trust that it is so.
He was ded on cros and colde put in pitt,
Kept with knyhtys foure — his grave sealyd also.
How shulde he levyn ageyn that so streyte was shitt?

PETRUS Whan Mawdeleyn dede tell us that Cryst was aresyn,
I ran to his grave, and Johan ran with me.
In trewth, ther we fownde he lay not in presyn!
Gon out of his grave and on lyve than was he!
Therfore, dere brother Thomas, I wole rede thee:
Stedfastly thu trust that Cryst is not deed.
Feythfully beleve a qwyk man that he be,
Aresyn from his deth by myght of his Godhed.

THOMAS I may nevyr beleve these woundyr merveles
Tyl that I have syght of every grett wounde
And putt in my fyngyr in place of the nayles.
I shal nevyr beleve it ellys for no man on growunde
And tyl that myn hand, the sperys pytt hath fowunde
Which dede cleve his hert and made hym sprede his blood!
I shal nevyr beleve that he is qwyk and sownde,
In trewth, whyl I knowe that he was dede on rood.

PETRUS Cryst be thi comforte and chawnge thi bad witt:
For feyth but thu have, thi sowle is but lorn.
With stedfast beleve, God enforme thee yitt.
Of a meke mayde, as he was, for us born.
CHRISTUS Pees be amonge yow! Beholde how I am torn!
Take hede of myn handys, my dere brother Thomas.
THOMAS My God and my Lorde! Nyght and every morn
I aske mercy, Lorde, for my grett trespas!

CHRISTUS Beholde wele, Thomas, my woundys so wyde
Which I have sufferyd for all mankynde.
Put thin hool hand into my ryght syde,
And in myn hert blood, thin hand that thu wynde.
So feythffull a frend, were mayst thu fynde?
Be stedfast in feyth, beleve wel in me;
Be thu not dowtefful of me in thi mynde,
But trust that I leve that deed was on a tre.

THOMAS My Lord and my God with syght do I se —
That thu art now quyk, which henge deed on rode.
More feythful than I, ther may no man be,
For myn hand have I wasch in thi precyous blode.
CHRISTUS For thu hast me seyn — therfor, thi feyth is good;
But blyssyd be tho of this that have no syght
And beleve in me. They, for here meke mood,
Shall com into hefne, my blysse that is so bryght.

THOMAS As a ravaschyd man whos witt is all gon,
Grett mornynge I make for my dredfful dowte.
Alas, I was dowteful that Cryst from undyr ston —
Be his owyn grett myght — no wyse myght gone owte.
Alas, what mevyd me thus in my thought?
My dowtefful beleve ryght sore me avexit!
The trewthe do I knowe, that God so hath wrought:
Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit.2

He that was bothe deed and colde put in grave
To lyve is aresyn by his owyn myght!
In his dere herte blood myn hand, wasch I have.
Where that the sperepoynt was peynfully pyght
I take me to feyth, forsakynge all unryght.
The dowte that I had ful sore me avexit,
For now have I seyn with ful opyn syght:
Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit.

I trustyd no talys that were me tolde
Tyll that myn hand dede in his heart blood wade.
My dowte doth aprevyn Cryst levynge ful bolde,
And is a grett argument in feyth, us to glade!
Thu man that seyst this, from feyth nevyr thu fade:
My dowte shal evyr chere thee — that sore me avexit.
Trust wele in Cryst, that such meracle hath made:
Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit.

The prechynge of Petir myght not converte me
Tyll I felyd the wound that the spere dyde cleve.
I trustyd nevyr he levyd that deed was on a tre
Tyll that his herte blood dede renne in my sleve.
Thus be my grett dowte, oure feyth may we preve —
Behold my blody hand, to feyth that me avexit;
Be syght of this myrroure from feyth not remeve:
Quod mortuus et sepultus nunc resurrexit.

Thow that Mary Magdalyn in Cryst dede sone beleve,
And I was longe dowteful; yit putt me in no blame.
For be my grett dowte, oure feyth may we preve
Agens all the eretykys that speke of Cryst shame.
Truste wel Jhesu Cryst, the Jewys kyllyd the same;
The fende hath he feryd, oure feyth that evyr avexit.
To hevyn yow brynge, and save yow all in same:
That mortuus et sepultus iterum resurrexit.3
Amen.
Here begins the appearance to Cleophas and Luke

Luke; (see note); (t-note)
Would it please you
village of Emmaus; (see note)
agree


now
two together

moved

harmed
heart
humble
heart
too


the truth
too wicked; too
too evil

kill
scourges
fierce; cruel
hung; cross

two thieves
hung; torn

Too wicked; their
When; nearly dead; (t-note)
Vinegar; gave
what a shame; carried out
(see note)

a reason
sorrow; their

sick
Against; acted
deeds
Yet
did

caught up; together
I ask; (t-note)
sir; God’s; (t-note)
will not deny
What is the topic
of you two
grieving; heavy; all the while



by yourself


frequently
Briefly

I believe

has happened
from there
no reason; (t-note)


word; deed
power
(t-note)

is called


fault
sport
onto a cross



trust

third; covered


daylight
else
real conclusion



the three of them; (see note)
live
would prove
Christ’s; both
when
were truthful, certainly

foolish; slow of heart
In order
sharp words
spoken in signs as evidence; (see note)
[to redeem] your worth
then enter
hard-hearted


Moses; others
read
Christ’s; spoke

Faithless, then; go
teach; plainly
mind
live

be quiet!

to cease
Out of fear
court session; (t-note)
By; a one
talk; be careful


its master; (see note)
cease, then
By; prove; (see note)
whale’s; (t-note)
Just as long
in the sea

life risen again


Though your example; somewhat
still alive
cross
insane
thrust
heart’s
then

heed; dead stick; (see note)
dead; its nature
it flourished
almonds; value
a signifier (foreshadowing)
dead



dead stick
marvel; indeed
to raise up
live
live; (t-note)
(t-note)
lack; (t-note)
When; remember


through; (see note)
lay dead
assure you
life

not; deliver
live

sir

sir; gracious

away right now
errands
stay
hence; (t-note)

go from; (see note)
grows dark
lost

remain

ask you
Don’t hinder me; to go



conversation

sir; hearty; (t-note)

conversation; to us
words

by

Grab him
rest of the way
sir
will; hence
stay; assure you
from us


both


Since
stay
staying; glad
world

Of; teacher
much

of heart
(see note)

danger


indeed
living
Although; been; heaven
deeds
far
loaf; eat
then


heart; free

joy
before you go hence

bless; (t-note)


joyful



just happened to us; (see note); (t-note)
heart; burning
When; close to us
Did; sweet
alive; living


risen

happened
When; on the way
proved; indeed

still denied it


gone

Let
go
tales
live; master
I agree; heart; amenable

heart; mind
lives; lay dead

well done

long way
resurrection; did teach us
together
dead
the grave
By

lovingly; truly
to us
did continue on
mourned
lost
before him; heart

healthy; whole

wonder

asunder
dead
marvel at this
great
can deny
seen him in plain view

live; know

living; truly
pitifully; torn; cross
Cheer up
health
on the way
many words; (t-note)



Sixty
steadily going

live; told us
proved it by; truly; (see note); (t-note)
truly

when; to us
have gone
from leaving
gave; in faith
broke; loaf; perfectly in half; (see note)
any; cut bread; (t-note)

did live; dead

sirs; wonder; (see note)
marvels; (t-note)
asunder

lives; kill
To us
did


(t-note)
good news
spread
(t-note)

Be quiet; (see note)
reckless
dead
living flesh

alive
Remember; two
discover
From; did
in my heart
dead; the cross; a grave
Guarded; (t-note)
tightly; shut

Magdalene did

confined; (t-note)
alive then
would advise

living


wonderful marvels


on earth; (t-note)
Unless; spear’s hole; (t-note)
heart; spill
alive; sound
dead on the cross

judgment
Unless you have faith, your soul is lost
belief; teach; yet
maiden
Peace; wounded; (t-note)


sin; (t-note)



your; whole
lifeblood; your; cover
where

doubtful
live; dead; tree (the cross)


alive, who hung dead; cross

washed; blood
seen
those who
their meekness
heaven

ravaged; (see note)
mourning

By; in no way
moved
belief; vexes me

(see note)

(t-note)
(t-note)
heart’s blood; washed
spearpoint; placed
unrighteousness
vexes me
in plain view


tales
Until; did; heart’s blood; (see note)
prove; living
faith; to gladden
faith never fade
vexes me
who


(see note)
Until; I felt; did cut
lived; dead; tree
Until; heart’s blood; run
by; prove
vexes me
By; remove


Though; soon
doubtful
by; prove
heretics; Christ’s; (t-note)

devil; made fearful; vexes; (t-note)


(see note); (t-note)