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The Winedrawers's Play

Written by Jonathan Malory   

XXXIX

THE WINEDRAWERS’ PLAY

 

MARY MAGDALENE

 

My wit is wasted; I am lost
I faint, I tremble.  Ah! woe is me.
Low is he laid that I loved most;
The Jews nailed him upon the tree.
My doleful heart had dreadful need;
To earth now gone is all my glee.
I stumble where I used to speed.
Now help me God in Persons Three.
O Being to every country dear,
As thou hast made both day and night,
And sun and moon so bright and clear,
Now grant me grace to have a sight
Of my Lord or his messenger.

 

JESUS

Thou woeful one, to thee I call.
Why weepest thou, in wild array,
As if on earth distraught to fall?
Cease now;   no longer mourn at all.
Whom seekest thou in such sad way?

 

MARY MAGDALENE

My Lord Jesus, true God, I say.
That for our sins did bleed and die.

 

JESUS

Truly, thou faithful friend, I say,
He that bought all mankind is nigh.

Sir, I have looked both far and near
To find my Lord, yet see him not.

JESUS

Woman, weep not, but mend thy cheer.
I know well whither he was brought.

 

MARY MAGDALENE

Good gardener
Sweet sir, if you bore him away,
Tell me the truth, and there me lead.
Where thou hast hid his body, say;
Again I'll seek him, with good speed.
I pray thee, for the prophets' sake,
Good gardener, tell what I ask thee;
For it would do my sorrow to slake,
If God's own body found might be
Which Joseph from the Cross did take.
Him might I in my keeping see,
In all my woe I'ld comfort make.

 

JESUS

What wouldst thou with that body bare,
That buried was with bitter cheer?
Thou canst not salve the sorrow he bare
Or sad pains that were so severe.
He shall recover men from care,
What was o'er clouded shall make clear
And make all folks right well to fare,
That once were all defiled in fear.

 

MARY MAGDALENE

Ah! might that man but once be met,
That man who is so great of might,
Dry would I wipe what now is wet;
I yearn but for his earthly sight.

Mary, of mourning mend thy mood.
See here! Behold my wounds so wide.
Thus for man's sins I shed my blood,
And all this bitter bale did bide.
Thus was I raised high on the rood,
With nails, and spear into my side.
Believe this well; it turns to good,
When men in earth their flesh shall hide.

MARY MAGDALENE

Ah Rabboni! Thee have I sought,
My master dear, full fast this day.

 

JESUS

Away now, Mary.   Touch me not;
But take good heed what I shall say.
For I am He that all things wrought,
Whom thou call’st very God and Lord.
With bitter death mankind I bought,
And I am risen, as was my word.
But come not nigh me, I say; let be,
Mary, my daughter sweet.
Since to my Father in Trinity
I am not ascended vet.

 

MARY MAGDALENE

Ah! blessed body, our woes to mend!
Mankind hast thou bought full dearly;
Through many wounds thy blood didst spend,
With thy dear death our life to buy.
Through hand and foot the nails did rend,
All for our sin to die;
For this must all grieve without end,
And I for sorrow cry.
To see this man so good
Thus roughly dealt and dight,
Ragged and rent on a rood,
This a rueful sight.
Yet all was for our good,
And nothing for his plight,
And thus spilt was his blood.
For every sinful wight.

 

JESUS

To my God and my Father
dear In heaven soon shall I ascend.
For I shall now not long dwell here;
His will have I done to the end.
And therefore let all men see clear
How they on earth their life may mend.
All that love me I shall draw near,
In heaven's bliss that has no end.

 

MARY MAGDALENE

Now all for joy I long to sing;
My heart is gladder than the glee,
And all for joy of thy rising,
That suffered death upon a tree.
Of love now art thou crowned King,
There's none so true living so free;
Thy love passes each earthly thing.
Lord, blessed might thou ever be.