39. The Winedrawers' Play: Christ's Appearance to Mary Magdalen

Alas, in this world was there ever one
Walking thus, with so much woe?
Come, dreadful death; draw near; be done
And mar me, as you always do.
Locked in the earth is my light, my sun;
So, unglad on the ground I go.
Jesus of Nazareth was that one:
The Jews killed him, as if their foe.

My wits are wasted in sorrow indeed;
I wallow, I walk, now woe is me.
That lovely one now low is laid;
The Jews have nailed him to a tree.
My doleful heart is always in dread,
For gone to ground is all my glee.
I spurn the places where I would speed;
Now, help me, God, in persons three.

Oh, loveliest one in every land,
As you shaped both day and night,
Bright-shining sun, and moon in your hand,
Grant me the grace to have a sight,
Or a message from him where I stand.

You, willful woman in this way,
Why do you weep as if you were mad,
As if on the field you'd fall down fey?
Hush now, and do no more of this deed.
Who are you seeking on this long day?
Tell me the truth, if in Christ you believe.

Jesus my Lord, the true God, I say,
Who suffered for sins his sides to bleed.

A secret I'll tell, if you'll me hear:
The truth of him whom you have sought.
You faithful one, now have no fear;
He is near, whom mankind bought.

Sir, I would look both far and near,
To find my lord-I see him not.

Woman, weep not; amend your cheer;
I know myself where he was brought.

Sweet sir, if you bore him away,
Tell me the truth, and there me lead,
Where he's been put, without delay;
I shall seek him again with speed.

Therefore, good gardener, do tell me;
I pray you, for the prophet's sake,
These tidings that I ask to see,
For they would make my sorrows slake.
If I might find God's own body,
Which Joseph from the cross did take,
I should take him unto me,
And all my woes would me forsake.

What would you do with that body bare,
Which buried was, with baleful cheer?
You cannot save him from his sore;
His pains were so sad and severe.
But he shall recover mankind from care;
What was clouded, he shall make clear,
And cause the people well to fare,
Who formerly were filled with fear.

Ah, might I ever with that man meet,
Who is, I know, so great in might,
I would wipe dry what now is wet;
I only mourn the worldly sight.

Mary, of mourning amend your mood,
And behold my wounds so wide.
Thus for man's sins I shed my blood;
These bitter bales I did abide.
Thus I was raised upon the rood
With great nails, a spear in my side;
Believe it well, it turns to good,
When men on earth their flesh shall hide.

Ah, Rabbi, I have you sought,
My master dear, all this long day!

Go forth, Mary, and touch me not,
But take good heed of what I say:
I am he whom all things wrought,
Whom you call Lord and God very;
With bitter death, mankind I bought.
Now I am risen, as see you may.

And, therefore, Mary, speak now with me,
And let go all of your regret.

My lord Jesus, it's you, I see-
Your wounds, they are still so wet!

Come not near me, my love, let be.
Mary, my own daughter sweet,
Up to my father in trinity,
Forth I'm going, but not yet.

Ah, mercy, comely conqueror,
Through your might you have overcome death.
Mercy, Jesus, man and savior,
Your love is still sweeter than honeyed mead.
Mercy, mighty comforter,
For before I was lost indeed.
Welcome, lord, all my honor,
 My joy, my love, in every stead.

Mary, in your heart now write
My armor that is rich and good:
My jerkin covered all in white,
Like the body of man, with matter good.
In hue as flesh, in kind perfect,
Of maidens' very flesh and blood.
When they began to pierce and smite,
My head, as any mail-coat, stood.

My breastplate spread on every side:
That was my body on the tree.
My helmet sheltered far and wide:
The strength thereof no man could see.
The crown of thorns which made me bleed:
It denotes my dignity.
My diadem says, without dread,
That dead I shall never be.

Ah, blessed body that bale would beat;
Dearly have you bought mankind.
These wounds have made your body wet,
With blood that once was locked inside.
Nailed you were, through hands and feet,
And all for was our sin and pride.
With sorrow, as sinners, we must you greet.
How can evil be put aside?

To see this wonderful food
Thus ruefully requite,
Rigged up and rent on a rood,
This is a sorrowful sight.
And all is for our good,
And not for his own plight.
Spilled thus is his blood
For us sinners unright.

To my God and my father dear,
To him I quickly shall ascend.
For now I shall not long dwell here;
I have done as my father planned.
And therefore, everyone must hear
How, on Earth, their lives they may mend;
All who love me I will draw near,
To my father's bliss that never shall end.

All for joy I am glad to sing!
My heart is glad and filled with glee,
And all for joy of your rising,
Who suffered death upon a tree.
Now you are crowned, of love the King;
No living man more true or free.
Your love surpasses everything;
Lord, blessed you must ever be.

To Galilee, now you shall wend,
Mary, my own daughter dear.
Go to my worthy brethren
Where they are gathered there.
Tell them each word, to the end,
That you have spoken with me here.
May my blessing on you land,
And on all that we leave here.

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