S ATAN :

Out , out, harrow! Into bale am I brought.
This bargain may I ban,
But if I work some wile, in woe must I won.
This gentleman Jesu, of cursedness He can.
By any sign that I see, this same is God's Son.
And He be slain, our solace will cease.
He will save man's soul from our sonde,
And reave us the remys that are round.
I will on stiffly in this stound
Unto Sir Pilate's wife, pertly and put me in press.

O woman, be wise and ware, and won in thy wit.
There shall a gentleman Jesu unjustly be judged
Before thy husband in haste, and with hirelots be hight:
And that doughty to-day to death thus be dighted.
Sir Pilate for His preaching and thou
With need shall ye be namely be noyed,
Your striff and your strength shall be stroyed.