Page:Ludus Coventriae (1841).djvu/238

 Come fforthe, thou hore, and stynkynge byche clowte! How longe hast thou suche harlotry holde? Phariseus. Come forth, thou quene! come forthe, thou scolde! Com forth, thou sloveyn! com forthe, thou slutte! We xal the teche with carys colde, A lytyl bettyr to kepe thi kutte.

Mulyer. A! mercy, mercy, seres, I ȝow pray, ffor Goddys love have mercy on me! Of my myslevynge me not bewray, Have mercy on me, for charyté! Accusator. Aske us no mercy, it xal not be; We xul so ordeyn ffor thi lot, That thou xalt dye ffor thin advowtrye; Therfore come forthe, thou stynkynge stott!

Mulier. Seres, my wurchepp if ȝe wyl save, And helpe I have non opyn shame; Bothe gold and sylvyr ȝe xul have, So that in clennes ȝe kepe my name. Scriba. Mede ffor to take, we were to blame, To save suche stottys, it xal not be; We xal brynge the to such a game, That alle advowtereres xul lern be the.

Mulier. Stondynge ȝe wyl not graunt me grace, But for my synne that I xal dye; I pray ȝow kylle me here in this place, And lete not the pepyl upon me crye. If I be sclaundryd opynly, To alle my frendys it xal be shame: I pray ȝow kylle me prevyly, Lete not the pepyl knowe my defame!

Phariseus. ffy on the, scowte! the devyl the qwelle! Ageyn the lawe xul we the kylle?