INCIPIT JOHANNES BAPTISTA.

Johannes. God, that mayde bothe more and less, Heven and erth, at his awne wylle,

And merkyd man to his lyknes

As thyng that wold his lyfe fulfylle,
Apon the erthe he send lightnes,
Bothe son and moyne lymett thertylle,
He save you alle from synfulnes,
And kepe you clene, both lowd and stylle.
Emang prophetys then am I oone
That God has send to teche his law,
And man to amend that wrang has gone
Both with exampylle and with saw.
My name, for sothe, is Baptyst Johne,
My fader Zacary ye knaw,

That was dombe and mayde great mone,
Before my byrthe, and stode in awe ;
Elezabethe my moder was,
Awntt unto Mary madyn mylde,

And as the son shynys thorow the glas,
Certes, in her wombe so dyd hir chyld.
Yit the Jues inqueryd me has
If I be Cryst, thay ar begyld,

For Jesus shal amend man's trespas,
That with freylte of fylthe is fylyd.
I am send bot messyngere

From hym that alkyn mys may mend;
I go before bodword to bere,

And as forgangere am I send,

His ways to wyse,

his lawes to lere,

Both man and wyfe that has offende.
Fulle mekylle barett mon he bere
Or tyme he have broght alle tylle ende,
Thise Jues shalle hyng hym on a roode,
Man's saulle to hym it is so leyfe,
And therapon shalle shede his bloode,
As he were tratoure or a thefe,
Not for his gylt bot for oure goode.

Because that we ar in myschefe;
Thus shalle he dy, that frely foode,
And ryse agane tylle our relefe.
In water clere then baptyse I
The pepylle that ar in this coste,
Bot he shalle do more myghtely,
And baptyse in the Holy Goost;
And with the bloode of his body
Weshe oure synnes bothe leste and moost,
Therfor, me thynk, bothe ye and I
Agans the feynde ar welle endoost.
I am not worthy for to lawse

The leste thwong that longes to his shoyne,
Bot God Almyghty, that alle knawes,
In erthe thi wille it must be done.

I thank the, Lord, that thi sede sawes
Emang man kynde to groyf so sone,
And every day that on erthe dawes
Feydys us with foode bothe even and none;
We ar, Lord, bondon unto the,

To luf the here both day and nyght,
For thou has send thi son so fre

To save man's saulle that dede was dight
Thrugh Adam syn and Eve foly,

That synnyd thrughe the feyndes myght;
Bot, Lord, on man thou has pyte,
And beyld thi barnes in heven so bright.

Primus Angelus. Harkyn to me, thou Johne
Baptyst;

The Fader of heven he greetes the weylle,
For he has fon the true and tryst,
And dos thi dever every deylle;
Wyt thou welle his wille thus ist,
Syn thou art stabylle as any steylle,
That thou shalle baptyse Jesus Cryst
In flume Jordan, man's care to beylle.

Johannes. A, dere God! what may this be?

I hard a steven, bot noghte I saw.

Primus Angelus. Johne, it is I that spake to the,

To do this dede have thou none aw.

Johannes. Shuld I abyde to he com to me?

That that shalle never be, I traw;

I shalle go mete that Lord so fre
As far as I may se or knaw.

Secundus Angelus. Nay, Johne, that is not welle

fittand;

His fader wille thou must nedes wyrk.'

Primus Angelus. John, be thou here abydand, Bot when he commys be thou not yrk.

Johannes. By this I may welle understand

That chylder shuld be broght to kyrk,
For to be baptysyd in every land;

To me this law yit is it myrk.

Secundus Angelus. Johne, this place it is pleassyng,

And it is callyd flume Jordan;
Here is no kyrk, ne no bygyng,
Bot where the fader wylle ordan
It is Godes wylle and his bydyng.

Johannes. By this, for sothe, welle thynk me than

His wark to be at his lykyng,

And ilk folk pleasse hym that they can,

Sen I must nedys his lyst fulfylle
He shalle be welcom unto me,
I yeld me holy to his wille,
Where so ever I abyde or be.
I am his servande, lowd and stylle,
And messyngere unto that fre,
Whethere that he wille save or spylle

I shalle not gruche in no degre.

Jesus. Johne, Godes servand and prophete,

My fader, that is unto the dere,

Has send me to the, welle thou wytt,
To be baptysyd in water clere;

For reprefe unto man's rytt
The law I wille fulfylle right here,
My fader ordynance thus is it,
And thus my wille is that it were.
I com to the baptym to take,
To whome my fader has me sent,

With oyle and creme that thou shalle make

Unto that worthi sacrament.

And therfor, Johne, it not forsake,

Bot com to me in this present;

For now wille I no farther rake

Or I have done his commaundement.

Johannes. A, Lord! I love the for thi commyng,

I am redy to do his wille,

In word, in wark, in alle kyn thyng,

What soever he sendes me tylle;

This bewteose Lord to bryng to me
His awne servande, this is no skylle,
A knyght to baptyse his lord kyng,
My pauste may it not fulfylle.
And if I were worthy

For to fulfylle this sacrament,
I have no connyng, securly,
To do it after thyne intent;
And therfor, Lord, I ask mercy,
Hald me excusyd as I have ment,
I dar not towche thi blyssyd body,
My hart wille never to it assent.

Jesus. Of thi connyng, Johne, drede the noght; My fader his selfe he wille the teche,

He that alle this warld has wroght,

He send the playnly forto preche;

He knawys man's hart, his dede, his thoght;
He wotes how far man's myght may reche,
Therfor heder have I soght,

My fader lyst may none appeche.
Behold, he sendys his angels two,
In tokyn I am both God and man,
Thou gyf me baptym or I go,
And dyp me in this flume Jordan.
Sen he wylle thus, I wold wytt who

Durst hym agan stand? Johne, com on than

And baptyse me for freynde or fo,

And do it, Johne, right as thou can.

Primus Angelus. Johne, be thou buxom and right bayn,

And be not gruchand in no thyng,
Me thynk thou aght to be fulle fayn
For to fulfylle my Lordes bydyng
Erly and late, with moyde and mayn,
Therfor to the this word I bryng,
My Lord has gyffen the powere playn,
And drede the noght of thi conyng.
Secundus Angelus. He sendes the herehis
dere chyld,

Thou welcom hym and make hym chere,
Born of a madyn meke and mylde,

That frely foode is made thi fere;
Withe his moder was never fylde,

syn

Ther was never man neghyd hyr nere,

In word ne wark she was never wylde,
Therfor hir son thou baptyse here.

Primus Angelus. And, securly, I wille thou knaw
Whi that he commys thus unto the,
He commys to folfylle the law,
As pereles prynce most of pauste;
And therfor, Johne, do as thou awe,
And gruch thou never in this degre
To baptyse hym that thou here saw,
For wyt thou welle this same is he.
Johannes. I am not worthi to do this dede,
Never theles I wille be Godes servand;
Bot yit, dere Lord, sen I must nede
I wille do as thou has commaunde.
I tremylle and 1 whake for drede,
I dar not towche the with my hande,
Bot, certes, I wille not lose my mede ;
Abyde, my Lord, and by me stande.
I baptyse the, Jesus, in hy

In the name of thi Fader fre,
In nomine Patris et Filii
Sen he wille that it so be,
Et Spiritûs altissimi,

And of the Holy Goost on he;
I aske the, Lord, of thi mercy,
Here after that thou wold blys me.
[Here I the anoynt also

With oyle and creme in this intent,
That men may wit, where so thay go,
This is a worthy sacrament.

Ther ar vj othere and no mo,

The whiche thi self to erth has sent,
And in true tokyn, oone of tho
The fyrst on the now is it spent.]*
Thou wyshe me, Lord, if I do wrang,
My wille it were forto do weylle;
I am ful ferd yit ay emang,

If I dyd right I shuld done knele.

Thou blys me, Lord, hens or thou gang,
So that I may thi frenship fele,

I have desyryd this sight ful lang,

For to dy now rek I no dele.

The lines enclosed within brackets have been struck through; and in the margin is added, in a later hand, "correctyd and not played."