The Passioun Of Christ: 5 - At Terce Poem by Walter Kennedy

AT TERCE.
Within þi mynd remember, man, at terce,
How to Pilat þai him brocht agane.
His gret diseis with all hert reherss,
His lang laubour, his pacience and his pane.
Thai will nocht ceiss, quhill þat þai se him slane,
On him to luk þair stomok sair it stoundis.
Thai cry his deth, quhill all þe tolboith soundis.
Off þe kindschip of Herod and Pilat
Thai wer [no]cht blith; þairfor richt constantly
Thai kest excuse þat nane condampnit him had;
Than to þe pepill Pilat said in hy:
As trespassour ȝe follow him cruel[l]y;
Bot I na causs can find him for to sla,
I sall him scurge, gif þat content ȝow may.
In feist of pasche þat tyme þe vse it wes
To gif þe pepill ane condampnit man.
That gart Pilat speir and furth to þam pas.
Quhen þai likit to haue Barrabam,
Or Jhesu, king of Jowis callit þan.
Thai cryit all: Tak him out of our sycht,
And Barrabam gif ws now for our rycht.
Pilat said: Quhat ewill hes he done?
I haue him fund in all richt innocent.
Thai cryit: Tollie away! take him sone!
Crucifigy thai cryit with ane assent:
Than Pilat thoucht, þe pepill to content,
Him to scurge, quhill he þair passioun mesit.
He wes begillit, na thing bot ded þaim plesit.
For þai haue spulȝeit [þo] þe heid all bair;
Syne till ane pillar þai full fast him band.
The cruell panis, quhilk he sustenit þair,
Be naturall wit may nane weill vnderstand.
For as I writtin into Doctouris fand,
He wes mair tender [into] his body,
Than is þe scheyne into a mannis e.
Thairfor þai say, þat he in his scurging
Sufferit mair pane without comparisoun,
Than sanct Laurence in tyme of his roisting
Apoun þe fire with irne forkis downg doun.
Fra heid to fute na part þai levit soun.
Off his body þe spirit for to confort
Wes na remeid, bot ded, his pane to schort.
That fair ȝoung Prince, þe Sone of God etern,
In manly natour þe prent of perfitnes,
Off fairheid floure, þe rute of rute eterne,
Veriour for man, the ground of all gudnes,
With his fais is now met, allace,
That be vneaiss mycht stand apoun þe ground,
His fell woundis sa sair his hert can stound.
Thai handillit him richt [with] fellony;
Syne skantlie cled into his awne clething
Thai tirvit him agane richt cruelly
Him till array and skorn, as he war king;
The purpour claith abut his corps þai thring,
[Quhill] flesch and blude and claith togidder claife;
His tender hid fra heid to fute þai rife.
Apoun his heid þe crowne of thorn þai [thrang]
With sa gret preiss, quhill þai his harnis persit.
Fra þe [greit] pane [þat] all þe blude out [sprang]
With all þair pith him for to pane þai pressit.
His gret meiknes na thing þair malice cessit,
In till his hand a reid put for a ceptour;
Thair for thy saik wes scornit our saluitour.
His fair wissage þai straik with ire agane,
And on his face with gret dispit þai spit.
Thai take þe ceptour till renew his pane,
With all þair mycht with it his heid þai hit.
Him for to pyne þai think þai haue na wit.
Thairfor Pilat ȝeid to þe Jowis and tald,
As innocent þat he him furth bring wald.
O knycht, behald, how þi king furth is led,
In new garmond arrayit reuthfully,
Ceptour in hand, with croun of thorn on heid,
In purpour cled, quhilk noyis him fellony.
Fra þai him se, as [tyte] þai word þai cry:
Crucifige, apoun þe croce him bind!
Bot Pilat said: Na [sin] in him I find.
Efter our law, þai said, þat he mon de,
For he him callit þe sone of God eterne.
Quhen he herd þame, for feir mair dreidit he,
And callit Jhesu befor him into derne,
Said: Of þi stait to wit rycht fane I ȝarne,
Gif þou be Sone of God þat all thing wrocht?
Crist held his toung and till ansuerit nocht.
Pilat said: Thow speikis nocht to me?
Wait þou nocht, I haue þe in mi will
To let þe pas or ȝit to crucifye?
Crist said agane: Wer nocht þat gevin þe till
Fra God abone, quhilk knawis baith gud [and] ill,
Thow had na mycht me for to pyne so sair;
Thairfor þe syn of Judas is þe mair.
Fra Pilat saw þat he wes innocent,
He soucht menis all way to let him ga.
The Jowis said all with ane assent:
Lat þou him pas, þou art þe kingis fa.
He callis him king, þairfor þou suld him slaa;
For þat ryndis þi lordis maistie.
Than Pilat dred him fra þe ded to fre.