5 10 15 20 25 30 fol. 128v 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 fol. 129r 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 fol. 129v 136 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 fol. 130r 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 fol. 130v 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 fol. 131r 296 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 fol. 131v 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 fol. 132r 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 fol. 132v 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 515 fol. 133r 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 fol. 133v 576 580 585 590 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 630 fol. 134r 635 640 645 650 655 660 665 670 675 680 685 fol. 134v 690 695 700 705 710 715 720 725 730 735 fol. 135r 740 745 750 755 760 765 770 775 780 fol. 135v 785 790 795 800 805 810 815 820 825 fol. 135r      830 835 840 845

The Stasyons of Jerusalem God that shupe both heven and helle, To Thee, Lord, I make my mone, And gyve me grace the sothe to telle Of the pylgrymage that I have gone. I toke my leve at Venys toune, And bade felous for me praye (For it is a cyté of grete renoune), And to Jerusalem I toke the wey. Bot of all cytés that I have seyne, For to rekyn everychon, Than may Venys be a kyng That stondys in the Greke Se alone. It is so rownd, ryche, and stoute, Of enmys ther them not drede. For seyntys lyes in the towne aboute: (Whoso wyll seke them he schall have mede) Seynt Marke and Seynt Nycholas, Thes two seyntys ther lyne in syght. Seynt Elyn that founde the cros, And Seynt Jeorge, Our Lady knyght, Among them berys grete voys, And lyes in gold and sylver wele dyght. Seynt Paule, the fyrst hermyte that was, And Seynt Symeon, Justus that hyght, And the fader of Seynt John Baptyst Lyes thens a lytell therfro. And Seynt Lucy, that vergyn blyste That stedfast was in all here wo, And a thousand innocentys men may se Lyghet ther closyd in that towne. Seynt Christofe lege and hys thé, At ons I may not rekyn ne soune; For ther is the whyrl-bon of hys kne And his toth closyd in crystall to se. Twyse in the yere who theder com To vyset this cor-seyntys in that plas, He schall have plene remyssyon, Als wele as in the yere of grace. Than passe into the iles of the se Curfe, Modyn, and Candy. Some of the iles, withouten doute, Be sevene hundrede myle abowte, And all langys to Venys towne; That is a cyté of grete renowne. In the Ile of Rodys as we gan gon, We founde relykes many one: A crosse made of the basyn suete That Our Lord wessch in hys postyllus fete, And ther the plater we se Wherin he made hys mandé, And a thorn of the crowne That styked in hys hede aboven, That blomys every Gode Frydey — A feyr merakyll it is to sey. And ther is Seynt Loy and Blasy, And other mo than twenty. Ther is the arme and hond of Seynt Cateryn, That blyssyd holy vergyn, And ever more who so theder com, A thousand yeres of pardon. And in Sypres as we schuld go, We fond relykys one or two: The cros of the gode thefe That cryed mersy and found gode preve. We saw a chapelle onne a hylle, Bot we myght not com thertylle. Beyond that, in a coste A lytell besyde, is Famagoste. We fond a chapell beforn, Wher Seynt Kateryn was born; Ther is many yeres of pardon For every man that theder wyll com. Than cam we to another place, Ther that the whalle sualowyd Jonas And bare hym into Ninyvé — A feyr merakyll it ys to se. Than com we to porte Jaffe. I schall yow telle who that name gaffe: Japhet that was Noeys sone Was ther fyrst, or that was begone, And when he leyd the fyrst stone, He callyd it Jaffe after hys name. This is the breyd of the Grekys Se: Twenty hundreth myle and thre. Than passyd we to that same stede Ther Seynt John was quyke and dede. The nexte thing after, as I yow telle, Is the grave of Samuelle; That is besyde the castell of Emaus, Ther Jhesu spake to Cleophas. Fyrst joy after that to us come When we sey the wawle of Jerusalem. And the fyrst fote that we sette therine, We were deliverde of all our synne, And reseyved indulgens a pena et culpa, And at other many places mo also. And after this, with gode intente, To the hospytall sone we wente. And onne the morne when it was dey, To the temple we wente oure wey. And ther lyes the same stone That Our Lord restyd hym onne; The Jues dyde hym so mekyll wo, The manhed myght no ferther go. And after this a Zarysen com, And callyd us in be a treyn. When he hade don, he went hys weye, And lokyd the dore with a keye. Now schall ye here the begynning How we worschypped our heven kyng: The warden reysed a crosse full hye, And clerkys song the letany. And lewd men than ther eyghen wepe, That teres fell under ther fete, And thankyd God with all ther myght That gaffe them grace to se that syght. Than askyd we a boune withall, That we schuld never in synne falle. And after that, with gode entent, To the sepulcour forth we went. When we had offerd and kyssed the stone, All our feloys dyde the same. Beyond that we fond a pleyn Ther Jhesu mette with Mary Maudeleyn. And ther sche wold have kyssed his fete, When he bakwerd fro hyr yede. And sche presyde onne hym so ofte, And he seyd, “Mary, touche me nought.” Behynd that is a pylere, Wherto was bond hys body bare. That stondys in a chapelle suete Ther Oure Lady stode and wepe. And thus we passyd bye To the mydys of the mundye; Ther is wrote, withouten doute, The mydys of the werld ronde aboute. Beyond that, as we schuld gone, We fond the holys in the stone Therin thei joddyd hym onne the gronde And gafe hym many a blody wonde. And ther thei spolyd hym of hys clothys, And swore hys deth with grete othes. And ther at the dyse thei gan pleye Who schuld bere hys clothys aweye. And when he sufferd all this scorn, On hys hede thei sete a crone of thorne. And after askyd hym of that thing, If that he were Jues kyng. Behynd that is a pyler also Ther that he sufferd mekyll wo. They bonde hys hondys and his fete And rollyd hys body in the strete, That erth and gravell onne the grounde Hade fylled full ilke-a wounde. And under an auter betwene the stones They made hym crepe all at ones. When he was so sore ibond, With ther fete thei spurned as a hunde. And he ley as a babe stylle And sufferd them to do ther wylle. All Crysten kyngys, with one assente, For Godys luffe, gyffe this jugement: What cursyde Jue cum to your ground, Spurne ye his body as a hounde. And bote he wylle mersy crye, Honge hym up on galow tre. For why thei dyde hym all this wo, That schall I telle you or I go: The crosse was not ordeynd mete To nayle onne his body suete. Than kepyd thei hym in prison stylle, To the crosse was ordeynd at ther wylle. That prison is hold a welle of grace For all that comys in that place, And it is callyd of old and yeng The prison of our heven kynge. Beyond that is a chapell sqware Forty gresys depe and more. Be hym that schope both heven and helle, This tale is trew that I schall telle: Ther is in a orytory Noys of the peynes of purgatory. And what man seys it is not so, I schall fynd wytnes or that I go: Of prestys that duellys ther nyght and dey, They schall bere wytnes that I sey. And ther syng prestys of cytés thre In worschype of the Trinyté. The fyrste prestys are of Inde, That prevyd themselve gode and kynde, For thei care for non other gode, Bot worschipe God that dyed onne rode. And thei synge nother more ne lesse Bot the Pater Noster at ther Messe. Because Our Lord bade them so pray, They wyll non other messe sey. Of bred and wyne, hys body dere, They resayve it with myld chere. Barefote thei gon and in febull aray, And duell in the chyrch both nyght and dey. Bred and water is most ther fode; I hold them holy men and gode. In the north syde of that mynster They worschype God onne this maner. The cyté of Grekys duelle fast by, That synngys in the Mounte of Calvery. Bot what thei synge or what thei seye, Oure prestys wote not what thei praye. And when thei reyse the oste onne hye, The Grekys kastys up a loud crye. And when thei breke the oste in thre, Iche man is housyld as wele as he. With a spon, withouten doute, They fede the pepull all aboute, And a party of that body dere He reseyves on this manere. Also the prestys hath no lyving Bot what the pylgrymus to them bryng; For faute of clothys ther sydys goth owte, And lyves in tribul and in doute. What lyvelode ther is to them leyd, They gruch not, bote hold them payd. And in that place with drery mode They wepe for hym that dyghed onne rode, And thei aske non other thing Bot hevens blyss at ther endyng. The thyrd cyté are prestys of owre, That syngys messe at the sepulcour; On the same grave that Our Lord in leye, Prestys syng in Latyn every deye. Of oure maner is ther songe, Save ther berdys are wele longe. That is the use of that contré: That have long berdys are of degré. The ordour of them are barefote frerys; Of almus dedys thei have no perys, For thei hold non other astate, Bot worscype God arly and late, Both with the new law and the olde. They passe all cytés a thousend folde. When thei make to God ther mone, They pray for all as wele as one. Thys holy saules that ther duelle Schall wytnes that I you telle, For thei have spokyn in ther orytory With sallys that are in the peynes of purgatory. Beyond ther is an auter under an hylle That Seynt Elyn lovyd full wele, And an hole in the grounde Ther the holy crosse was fonde, And the two crossys of the thevys allso (The beter was betwen them two). Ther is a pena et culpa in that place For all men that comys theder for grace, And beforn, as we schuld fare, Many gode syghtys as wele as ther. Seynt Elyn the emperyse And Constantyn hyr sone so wyse Ordeynd that place for grete delyte, For ever more it schuld be replyte. Seynt Sylvester, that holy pope, Confermyd it under hys holy cope, And what sche wold have thertylle, The Pope was redy at hyr wylle. And yit it is more stronge than so, And that schall I preve or I go. The Jewys askyd Jhesu of ther wylle, And bade hym ansuer to that skylle. He seyd in myddys of the werld with skylle, Full hyghe brought upon an hylle, And seyd, “Who so be in charyté And for my love hyder wylle wende, In joy and blysse he schall me se, And with me duell withouten ende.” Beyond that we may to a pylere go Wher that he sufferd mekyll wo, Bonde and betyn ther he stode Tyll all hys body ranne onne blode. So thyke thei spyte on hym by rawe That no man myght hys vysage knowe. Than turned we upone a grece in hye, Onto the Mounte of Calverye. Ther was fond a fote of grounde, Ther is non sych in the werld rounde; For it was plantyd with that tre Ther Jhesu bought us and made us fre, And it was halowyd with that blode That oute of hys body yode. And that was payd in ranson For all the synnes that we hade done. Ther turnyd all ther cruelté To grete mersy, as we may se, When he forgaffe the stronge theffe That cryed mersy as he was leffe, And pute hym in no lenger delaye, Bot gaffe hym paradys that same dey. Crysten man, if thou be wyse, Hold thou this of mekyll price. And yit dyde he more to seyn: He forgave them that brast hys veyne, And prayd hys Fader hyghe on lofte Forgyve the soules that he had wrought. Ther he betaught hys moder dere To John, his cosyn, that stode hym nere. And John betoke hys moder also, And thei forth togeder gan go. And ther he soferd grete poverté, Never man so mekyll as he. A fox hath hole, a byrd hath neste; He had not wheronne hys hede to reste. The drynke he askyd was grete amours, Was mans saule and non other lycours. Than askyd he folke of yche degré, Who sufferd more peyn than he. And he cast uppe a loud cryghe, And seyd, “Lama zabatamye.” Ther is the roche of ston that cleft in two When he sufferd al this wo. Everilke planet was so kynd; They hade hym som dele in ther mynd. For sothe, thei come of Kaymes kyne; They sette it for no dedly synne To reyse the crose betwene them all, And in a mortas thei lete it falle. And when it smote among the stones, His wondys brast all at ones. They turnyd hys fete donwerd to helle; His blod on Adams hede gan felle. He prayd unto hys Fader of blys To save the pepull that wold be hys. Hys one hond yede est, the other yede weste, As the pylican syttes on her neste When sche prykes hyr herte blod To gyffe here byrdys for ther fode. Thus was he strenyd on a tre, That bought us all in this degré. In every veyn thei sought hys blod; Thus fulle dere he bought hys brode. The croune of thorn went throught hys breyn — Hys penans passe the pelycan. A spere was pute thorow his rybbys, And with hys blode he fede his brydys. So fre he was to us ichone, He held oute water when blod was gon. The spere thyrled thorow his herte, Yit God forgaffe hym all that smerte. What erthly man in synne is bounde, And he aske mersy in that grounde, Have he don never so mekyll amysse, He schall be salvyd of all synne that is. Bot why I neven here no pardon, That schall ye here or that I gon: Because my wytte may not expond To knaw the pardon of that grounde. For ther is the crope and rote, And ther began all our bote; For all the pardon that is in Rome, Ther is the well and thens it com. Ther is more pardon, I telle thee, Than is all the water in the se Or gresse or gravell onne the ground, Or sterrys be in the sky so rounde, Or motys be in the sone Sen the werld was fyrst begon. For every contré here hath end of ryght, And he is Lord of endles myght. The pardon that he gaff to hys frend Is the blysse withouten ende. And all his grace and mekyll more Was purchast in a fote of square; It passyd not a fote in bred, What man wyll mete it with a threde. I have so mekyll more to telle; On the mounte I may no lenger duelle. Than fond we in Galgatha so, Beryed worthyly ther lyggys two: Godfrey of Boleyn and Baudwyn his brother. Jhesu brynge thether sych two other; Than durst I sey that blyssed lond Schuld duell in Crystyn mennys hond. Beyond ther is the same sted Wher Jhesu wondys were bobbyd rede. And thus we toke all the nyght, Every man with a candyll lyght. And when we had gon the serkyll aboute, We prayd for them that were in doute. And at the mydnyght, more and les, Our prestys disposyd them to messe, Som at the Mounte of Calvarye, And som at other plasys therbye. And at the sepulcour many one song And housyld pepull ever among. For ilke man ches hym a preste And told hym that ley on hys breste, And after resavyd hym in forme of bred That ther for us was offerd quyke and dede. On the mourne, at undren of the deye, A Saryzen bad us gon our weye. And than ranne we ferre and nere As conys doth to ther covere, Som to the Mounte of Calverye, And som to other placys therbye, And som knelyd yn that stede Ther hys wondys were anoyntyd rede. And sone a frere was to us sente, And bade we schuld do hys commandment. Than durst we no more sey, Bot toke oure palmes and went awey. And into the hospytall we went And ete and dranke sych as God us sent. When we had don, we toke the wey To the veyle of Josphey. Than passyd we be a cornere Ther Jhesu met hys modere dere, And thei fell in a swonyng also, And the crosse betwen them two. And ther thei constreyned Symon To bere the crosse as he was won. It was so hevy and so square, His manhed myght it no ferther bere. And the women of Jerusalem Wepyd on Cryst when that he com, And he ansuerd on this degre: “Wepe onne your selve and not for me.” Beyond that is a chapell smale, Ther som tyme was sette an halle Ther sche brought forth hyr derlyng, The moder of our heven kyng. Beyond that, sche was sette to scole That ever was wyse and never no fole. Beyond that is the same lake That the angell styred for mens sake. Som comme theder with gode entente When the angell was fro thens wente; Thoff he had never so mekyll care He schuld be coverde of all hys sore. Than passyd we to the duellyng Of coursyd Herode, the fals kyng. Ther Oure Lord was clothyd in whyte; They bett hym sore with grete delyte. Beyond that is another stede, Ther Pylate dampned Our Lord to dede. Besyde that ther is another place, Ther Mary Maudeleyn had feyre grace; Men callyd it Symon Leperus halle, Ther Cryst forgave hyr synne alle. Be another place we come, Ther Dyves duelled, that rych man, Whych bette the pore man with hys hond And now lyes brynand in helle ground. At the ende of the toune, as we schuld gon, We fond the temple of Salamon. Be the gyldyn gates, as we gon pas, Ther Jhesu rode upon hys asse, The Jues spred clothes under his fete When thei mette hym in the strete. Ther Seynt Anne mett with hyr fere When sche conseyved Our Lady dere. Withouten that gate is the sepulkyr Of many cursyd creatore, For Saryzyns of grete astate Are beryed befor that gate. Be that ther is anodor stede, Ther Seynt Stevyn was stonyd to dede. To the veyle of Josaphat with gode entent, Ther Our Lady was beryed, we wente. And ther is a cave under the erth by, Werein was Cryst, sykerly, When he suete blod and water And prayd up to hys Fader. “Fader,” he seyd, “if it may so be, Late this deth passe fro me. And if thou wyll not that it so be, Fader do thy wyll with me.” Ther is a place ther the apostyllus slepe When Jhesu knelyd onne Olyvete, And the Jues sought hym in fere; Ther Malcus lost hys ryght ere. And ther is a ston — we kyssyd it alle — Were Oure Lady lete hyre gyrdell falle When sche was borne up to hyr sone, Ever in blys with hym to wone. Beyond that, as we schuld go, Our Lord wepyd upon the cyté allso. And another place we sought Ther the palme was to Our Lady brought. Than passyd we to another styghe, To the nobylle cité of Galilé. Ther Jhesu and hys apostyllus dere, Ther thei mete all in fere; After the tyme that he was dede, He schewyd them hys wondys rede. Than turned we to that same strete That goth to the Monte of Olyvete. Ther Jhesu styghed up in ther syght To hys Fader full of myght. And ther lyes the stone yite Wheron he wrote this holy bede, The Pater Noster, as we calle; The ston lyes muryd in the walle. And ther the apostellus made the Crede That help Crysten men at nede. Furthe we went to a ston Ther Oure Lady rest hyr upon. Ther is a cave under a ston Ther James wepyd and made hys mone. Fro that tyme that hys lord was dede, He thought never to ete brede. Bot he had sene hym ryse ageyn, With hungour hymselve he wold hym sleyn. And ther Our Lord in that place Aperyd to James when he uprase, And seyd, “I ame resyn now here. Ete thei mete and make gode chere.” This was James the Mynour, The apostyll of Our Savyoure. And ther is the grave of Absolon, Of Kyng Josaphat, and of Ysayon; All, save the grave of Absolon, Is trans torrentem Cedron. And under that ley the same tre That the crosse was made of, sykyrlye. Ther is a welle a lytell thens Ther Our Lady gan Our Lordys clothys clens. Besyde that, a lytell ther fro, Was Isay the prophet sawyn in two. And ther stondys a well alone Ther God relyvyd the blynd man. Now have we bot a myle to gon Unto the Mount of Syon. The fyrst thing that we ther fond Was the roste of the holy lambe that stond.1 And ther that the water stode to hete That Our Lord wessch with his postyllus fete, And ther lyghes yit twelve stons That the apostyllus sate on all at ons, And Our Lord among them alle, Whyll Jhesu prechyd onne a walle. Within a chyrch, at an auter, He fede hys postyllus all in fere; Of bred and wyn he made his fode, And callyd it hys flessch and blode. When thei were servyd with the lambe, He bade them ete and drynke and make them strong: “For this that I afore you ley Is my flessch and blod, as I you sey. What man so be in charyté, He reseyve this in the mynd of me. And what man that be fals in thought, I wern hym resyve it nought.” On the other syde he wessch ther fete And dryghed them with a towelle suete. Benethe ther is a hous of stone; Ther the apostyllus were hyde everychon, When Jhesu com throughe a walle And bade, “Pesse be to you alle.” And than he askyd Thomas of Ynde What skyll he hade to be unkynd, And schewyd hym hys wondys wyde And bad hym pute his hond in his ryght syde. When Thomas had rowyd in his wonde, He wepe full sore and fell to grounde, And lyft up hys hondys on hyght And cryed mersy with all hys myght. To any of these foure that ye gon Is a pena et culpa everychon. Withouten the dore a place we sey Ther Our Lady duellyd many a dey Fourtene yere after that Cryst was dede, And prayd ther many a holy bede. And ther Seynt John the Ewangelyste Song Messe to hyr when sche lyste. And ther was Seynt Mathey Chosyn into the compeney. Beyond that in the same coste Our Lady dyghed and yeld the goste. And sche toke John ther the palme tre That was brought hyr in to Galylé. And ther the apostylles all in fere Bare Our Lady on a bere. And when the Jues com in grete deray And wold have drawyn the body awey, And for thei wold have don her schame, Som wex wode and som wex lame. Than couth thei no more sey, Bot cryed mersy and welowey. Than Peter held stylle the bere And ansuerd them on this maner: “He that askys mersy with herte and thought, He schall have forgyffnes that he has wroght. In Godys name, all in fere, Spyte no more on Jhesu moder dere.” On the other syde is Cayfas halle, And theder wente we pylgryms alle. And ther we fond a pyler pyght That Jhesu was bound to in the nyght. And ther thei sette hym on a stole And blyndfeld hym as a fole. And when thei boffyd hym faste, They askyd hym who smote hym laste. Than Cayfas seyd in hys jugement, “Bot he be dede, the pepull is schente.” Ther is a ston both long and brode, Mekyll more than a carte lode, That on the sepulcour of Our Lord ley When Cryst rose and went hys wey. And onne that ston was blode rede That Cryst bled onne sen he was dede. That ston the Grekys hath in kepyng In wyrschype of our heven kyng. On the other syde we fond a ston That Davyd made the Sater upon, And ther he lyes beryd also, And other profetys many mo. Than went we to the feld of blod Ther Peter to hys penans yode. Because he hade hys God forsake, He toke on hys body mekyll wrake; He wrong hys hondys and drew hys here, And cryed, “Mersy, Lord, thyn ore!” And ever when he askyd grace The water ran doune by hys face. Than went we forth onne our weye To the well that Our Lord dronke of every deye. Two herymetys that ther duelle Calle it Oure Lordys Welle. Fast be is a tempulle feyre and fre Ther mete Jhesu with meydens thre; Ther is a crosse made in a stone Ther pylgrymes knelys and kys ichone. Beyond that is another stede, Ther Seynt Jame was quyke and dede. Ther is the serkyll of the tounne aboute Sex myle, withouten doute. And sex myle we wente on the morn To Bethlem, wher Our Lord was born. Bot therof we muste a whyll dwelle, If I schall of the wey telle. As Jhesus by the wey yede, He fond a Jew sawyng hys sede. He askyd, “What sawys thou on?” And he seyd, “I saw ston.” And Crist seyd, “Stone mot thei be.” And truly ther lyes grete plenté. The next thing after that, I cane you telle, Ther is the grave of Rachelle. And other prophetys graves one or two Ther lyghet in the wey as we schuld go. Of Bedlem I wyll not lyghe, Bot that I saw ther with myn eye. For ther that the asse and the ox stode Is now a feyre chyrch and gode. And ther Owre Lady in childbede ley Ther is a feyr chyrch, I dere wele sey. Beyond that is the same stone That Oure Lord was cyrcumsyd upon, And ther he blede hys fyrst blode That ever he bled for mannys fode. Bot why he layd hym in the stalle, That schall I tell among you alle: For ther was nothing so redy That schuld long to sych a lady, Feyre clothys and werme fyre That women in travell schuld desyr. Than chese thei the wermyst place of all, And leyd hym in an asse stalle. The ox and the asse dyde curtasy And gave hym place onne to ly. And ever more with eyn gray Oure Lady beheld how he ley. And when the bed was dyght aboute, Sche prayd that sche myght gyff hym souke. And now ye schall here the metyng Betwyx Our Lady and hyr derlyng: Sche seyd, “Welcom heven kyng, Welcum maker of all thyng, Welcom prince in Trinyté, That is and was and ever schall be. Welcum both God and man, Welcum my lord, welcum my sone, Welcum my joy, welcum my blys, With all my hert that I may thee kys. In heven blyssed be thi name, That wold chese me to be thi dame, So rych a emperour and a kyng To be born of so unworthy a thing.” And than sche praysyd hym all aboute And with hyr pappys gave hym sowke. At iche of this ther pylgrym be Ther is a pena et a culpa at all thre. Then passyd we into a valey Ther hundred and fourty foure thousende ley Of chylder that dyghed for Godys sake, When cursyd Herod of hem tok wrake. And in that place, withouten doute, Seynt Jerom wrote the Bybull aboute. Then wente we arly onne the morn Ther Seynt John Baptyst was borne. Than went we into a grete valey Ther Adam duellyd many a dey, And he is beryd a lytell ther fro, Bot no Crystyn man may come therto. And ther is mekyll of the story Of the hous of Zakary. Ther mette two ladys feyr and bryght — Truly it was a wele feyr syght! The onne was past chyld byrth be kynd, The other was vergyn feyre and hend And never dyde synne in boure ne in halle, And bore that chyld that schall save us alle. When Elyzabeth of Mary hade syght, Sche prophesyd anon ryght, And askyd, “What may this mervylle be, That Godys moder comys to me? The chyld that is in my wome so yong Rejoset, Mary, at your comyng! All that I have is at your wylle, And I your servant, loud and stylle.” When Mary herd this wordys dere, Sche ansuerd on this manere: All hyr herte to God sche hyght, And thankyd God of all hys myght. Sche knelyd after onne a stone, Magnificat sche made anon. And when Elyzabeth with hyr eyen graye Had sene the wysdom of that maye And the feyrnes of hyr face, Anon sche callyd hyr Quene of Grace. Doune sone on hyr kneys sche felle And prayd that sche myght with hyr duelle. Than sought we forth, bothe man and wyfe, Ther Lazar was reysed fro deth to lyve, And had lyghe stynkyng in the grond A hundreht parte wers than a hunde. Besyde ther, in a feyr pleyn, Is Martha halle and Mary Madeleyn. Ther Jhesu at the soper sate, When Mary Maudeleyn kyssed his fete And Martha prayd amonge them alle That sche myght ryse and serve in halle. Than seyd Our Lord for Marye That sche hade chosyn the better partye. All is befelle that I descryve In Betany and in Betphage. In Betphage sate Our Lord upon a ston And bode hys asse to it were come. Ther be the stepys of the asse fete Ther Jhesu onne hys asse lepe. Befor the wey, as we com Fro Seynt John into Jerusalem, Standys the compas of the rote Whereon grew the tre of owre bote. And at the mourne, when it was dey, To flom Jordeyn we toke the wey. At Jeryco, as we schuld gon, We fond a hond of Seynt John, And that is callyd the Grekys Law; Ther we offerd when we it saw. And ther Zaches, the lytell man, Abod Our Lord tylle that he came, And clame into the tre on hyght That he myght wysly se that syght. And ther we saw the same stonke Ther Sodom and Gomour for synne sonke; Fyve cytys, as I wene, Sanke to hell for unkyndly synne. Ther passyd non awey with lyffe Bot Loth and hys childer and wyfe. An angell com to Loth halle And told of the sorow that schuld falle. He bade hym take hys folke and go, “For ye schall here of mykell wo. Spede you fast with all your mayn, And for no thing ye turne ageyn.” The wyfe of Loth was freyll of thought And sette the angell word at nought, And sche brake hys comandment. Here now, therfore, how sche was schent: Hyr husbond bade hyr forth to gone, And sche turnyd into a salte stone. And whoso comys to Galilé, Wher that stondys ye may se. Ther growys nother corne ne haye, Bot that the water berys awaye. What fysch or foule comys therine, He schall never fle ne swyme Bot synkys done as a plombe of lede; Tharfor, it is callyd the See of Dede. It is fourty myle long and large of brede. Ther dare no man touche it for drede, For Zarysins that ther duelle Seys that it is the pytte of helle. Than com we to flome Jordan, Ther Jon baptyst both god and man. Ther we resavyd a pena et culpa And wesch us in the water also. And after, we toke a soppe in wyne And turnyd up to Quryntyne, Ther Jhesu fastyd fourty deys When he began oure new lawys. And ther lyes the stones rede That the devyll bade Cryst turne in to brede. And when he wold not wyrke hys wylle, Another thing betwen them felle. He bare Oure Lord in hys armys two Fro Jerusalem to Jerico And he sette hym on a pynnacle hye Als fer as men myght hym se, And schewyd hym ther haulys and bourys, Riche castellus and many toures. When he had schewyd hym the werld aboute, He spake wordys that were in doute: He seyd, “All this I schall gyfe thee, And thou falle doune and wyrschyp me.” Of all that he seyd beforn, Oure Lord toke it to lytell scorn, And ansuerd hym wyth a word: “Go forth, theff, and tempe not thi Lord.” Than roulyd that thefe upon a hepe More than a thousend fathom depe, For it was twenti oures and mo Or of that mountan he myght go. Doune at the fote of that mountayn We founde a garthyn of Abraham. Thys wey is to come and go Sexty myle and ten and mo. Now have we told all that we have sene, So God me save fro sorow and tene. And all the cause that I can seye Is to teche a man the weye. What pylgrym that thether wylle go, I praye God save hym to and fro, And gyfe them grace so to do That hevens blys thei may com to. Now Lord God Allmyghtye, Thou grante us grace that it so be, That we be redy to come to thee When that our saulys schall partyd be. Jhesu, that for us dyghed on the rode tre, Save us all for thi pyté. Be the vertu of thi holy crosse, Latte us never in synne falle, So that we be redy thorow thi grace To come to thi joys eternalle. When we schall out of this werld wend, God, grante us for thi holy grace Of thee, Lord, to have in mynd,2 For to behold thi blyssyd face. AMEN QUOD RATE

(see note) made; (t-note) request truth (t-note) Venice; (see note); (t-note) friends consider every one (see note) Greek Sea (Mediterranean) Four saints; (see note) (see note) lie in sight (on display) (see note) Our Lady’s; (see note) i.e., bears great respect well made (see note) who was called Just; (see note) (see note) blessed; (see note) (t-note) Lies enshrined Christopher’s leg and thigh; (see note) nor express kneecap tooth; (t-note) relics complete forgiveness As much as in a Jubilee year Corfu, Modon, and Crete; (see note) (t-note) belong Rhodes; (see note) (see note) apostles platter; (see note) his Last Supper blooms; (t-note) (see note) (see note) (see note) [Receives] a Cyprus; (see note) (see note) (see note) a good end; (see note) thereto Famagusta (see note) (see note) Nineveh Jaffa Noah’s before that was built breadth (see note) alive and dead (i.e., where he died); (see note) (see note) Emmaus Cleopas; (see note); (t-note) [The] first joy we came to after that [Was] when; walls from punishment and guilt hospice; (see note) (see note) (see note) Saracen (Muslim) came in a line; (see note) (see note) litany unlearned (lay); eyes wept [So] that boon (gift) (t-note) discovered (see note) (see note) went (t-note) (t-note) Where; (t-note) middle of the world; (see note);(t-note) written (inscribed); (t-note) middle holes knocked; (see note) stripped dice [So] that every wound bound kicked [him] like a dog caused him made ready Until the cross considered a source; (t-note) steps; (t-note) chapel; (see note) Noise priests cities (groups, nations) India; (see note) Mass poor dress I consider church (see note) do not understand raise the host (the Eucharist) given communion spoon no benefice (financial support) i.e., there are holes in their clothes distress; (t-note) livelihood consider themselves rewarded of our [faith] [They] that barefoot friars (Franciscans) peers exceed; thousand times prayer (t-note) souls altar Helena discovered The better (i.e., Christ) [pardon] from pain and guilt (see note) well supplied; (t-note) (see note) i.e., in his office before; (t-note) (see note) to that argument He spoke will come here; (see note) spit; in crowds steep stairway [square] foot hallowed came (t-note) (see note) as he desired (see note); (t-note) great value (see note) [To] forgive entrusted; (see note) accepted distress nothing whereupon love; (t-note) (see note) rock Every; natural (sympathetic) i.e., gave witness in some way they (i.e., the Jews); Cain’s race mortise (fitted slot); (t-note) began to fall stretched east pelican; (see note); (t-note) (t-note) chicks stretched dearly (at great price); brood went beyond [that of] the pelican birds generous pierced; (t-note) i.e., No matter how much amiss; (t-note) absolved name before I go expound source and root cure from there it comes (t-note) motes (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) breadth measure Golgotha lies (see note) [May] Jesus bring there place wounds were beaten [until] red; (t-note) (see note) readied themselves (see note) many sang gave the Eucharist among them all chose i.e., in the host; (see note) in the morning hours rabbits; shelter (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) valley of Jehoshaphat (see note); (t-note) (t-note) the cross [fell] between compelled; (see note) accustomed (i.e., able) massive (see note) (see note) sent to school; (see note) (see note) gone from there Though recovered; illness cursed beat him (see note) Dives; (see note); (t-note) Who; (t-note) burning companion (t-note) creature; (t-note) valley; (t-note) (t-note) (see note) slept together (see note) dwell wept for the city path (street) (see note) all together wounds rose up (t-note) prayer bricked Forth (t-note) Had he not seen risen (t-note) James the Less (t-note) across the Kidron brook; (see note); (t-note) sawn; (see note); (t-note) (see note) relieved (see note); (t-note) apostles’ (t-note) altar; (see note) all together in God’s good grace (see note); (t-note) (see note) (see note) reason wounds poked; (see note) on high four [places] (t-note) Outside the door Sang Mass; desired Matthew (t-note) same area (see note) (t-note) (t-note) bier ferocity Because they wanted went insane lamentation earned (see note) (see note) pitched (raised) stool buffeted ruined (see note) after he was dead (t-note) Psalter (Psalms); (see note) buried; (t-note) (t-note) (see note) went (t-note) vengeance pulled out his hair pardon (t-note) maidens (t-note) (i.e., died) circumference (t-note) traveled sowing (t-note) (see note); (t-note) must (t-note) (see note) lies where (see note); (t-note) man’s sake belong (be fitting for) labor eyes (t-note) prepared; (t-note) might suckle him (t-note) breasts; (t-note) (see note) (t-note) vengeance (see note) Zechariah; (see note) (t-note) by nature courteous Rejoices loud and soft (i.e., in all ways) raised (t-note) (see note) maid (see note); (t-note) lain hundred times worse Martha and Mary Magdalene’s hall (t-note) (t-note) (see note); (t-note) (see note); (t-note) commanded his ass to come to it hoofprints of the ass leapt i.e., From St. John’s house area of the roots; (see note) our redemption; (t-note) the river Jordan (see note) (see note) (t-note) (see note) Waited for climbed lake (see note); (t-note) unnatural; (see note) i.e., no one survived Lot’s all your might (t-note) grain nor hay; (see note) breadth; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) after [that]; sop of bread Mount Quarantena; (see note) (t-note) (see note); (t-note) halls and bowers (courts) (t-note) dubious If; (t-note) took as an insult thief; tempt fell; in a heap (t-note) twenty hours garden; (see note) (t-note) (see note) harm pass (see note)