Lorne Ys My Likinge

MARIA MAGDALENA

Alas, nowe lorne ys my likinge.

For woe I wander and handes wringe. My harte in sorrowe and sighinge

ys sadlye sett and sore.

That I most loved of all thinge,

alas, ys nowe full lowe lyenge.

Whye am I, lord, so longe livinge

to loose thy luxonne lore?

MARIA JACOBI

Alas, wayle awaye ys went.

My helpe, my heale from me ys hent. My Christ, my comfort that me kent, is clongen nowe in claye.

Mightie God omnipotent,

thou give them hard judgment

that my soveraygne hath so shent, for so I maye well saye.

MARIA SALOME

Alas, nowe marred ys my might.

My lord through whom that I was light shamefullye slayne here in my syght!

My sorrowe ys aye unsought.

Syth I maye have no other ryght

of these dyvelles that have my lord so dight, to balme his bodye that ys so bryght boyst here have I brought.

MARIA MAGDELENA

Suster, which of us everychon shall remove this great stonne that lyeth my sweet lord upon, for moove yt I ne maye?

MARIA JACOBI

Suster, maystrye ys hit nonne.

Hit seemes to mee as he were gonne, for on the sepulcher sytteth one,

and the stonne away.

MARIA SALOME

Two children I see ther syttinge- all of whyte ys there clothinge- and the stonne besydes lyeinge. Goe we nere and see.

ANGELUS PRIMUS

What seeke ye women here

with weepinge and unlykinge chere? Jesus, that to you was deare,

ys rysen, leeve you mee.

ANGELUS PRIMUS

This ys the place, therfore be apayde, that Jesu our lord was in layde

but he ys rysen as he sayde,

and heathen went awaye.

ANGELUS SECUNDUS

Hye you, for ought that may befall, and tell his disciples all

and Peter allso saye you shall there fynde him that you maye.

MARIA MAGDELENA

Ah, hye wee faste for anye thinge

and tell Peter this tydinge.

A blessedfull word we may him bringe, sooth yf that hit were.

MARIA JACOBI

Yea, walke thou, suster, by on waye and we another shall assaye

tyll we have mett with him todaye, my dereworth lord so deare.

MARIA MAGDALENA

Heathen will I never, syckerlye, tyll I be comforted of myne anoye and knowe where hee is readelye. Here will I sitt and weepe.

ANGELUS PRIMUS

Woman, whye weepest thou so aye?

LORNE YS MY LIKINGE

MARIA MAGDALENA

Sonne, for my lord ys taken awaye and I wott nere, the sooth to saye, whoe hath donne that thinge. Alas, whye were I not dead todaye, clought and clongen under claye to see my lord that here laye

once at my likynge?