Piers Plowman - Maybe You Like It

18.068: Vere filius Dei erat iste.
18.069: And some seide he was a wicche — "Good is that we assaye
18.070: Wher he be deed or noght deed, doun er he be taken.'
18.071: Two theves also tholed deeth that tyme
18.072: Upon a croos bisides Crist — so was the comune lawe.
18.073: A cachepol cam forth and craked bothe hir legges,
18.074: And hir armes after of either of tho theves.
18.075: Ac was no boy so boold Goddes body to touche;
18.076: For he was knyght and kynges sone, Kynde foryaf that throwe
18.077: That noon harlot were so hardy to leyen hond upon hym.
18.078: Ac ther cam forth a knyght with a kene spere ygrounde,
18.079: Highte Longeus, as the lettre telleth, and longe hadde lore his
sight.
18.080: Bifore Pilat and oother peple in the place he hoved.
18.081: Maugree his manye teeth he was maad that tyme
18.082: To [justen with Jesus, this blynde Jew Longeus].
18.083: For alle thei were unhardy, that hoved on horse or stode,
18.084: To touchen hym or to tasten hym or taken hym doun of roode,
18.085: But this blynde bacheler, that baar hym thorugh the herte.
18.086: The blood sprong doun by the spere and unspered the knyghtes
eighen.
18.087: Thanne fil the knyght upon knees and cryde Jesu mercy:
18.088: "Ayein my wille it was, Lord, to wownde yow so soore!"
18.089: He sighed and seide, " Soore it me athynketh!
18.090: For the dede that I have doon I do me in youre grace.
18.091: Have on me ruthe, rightful Jesu!' — and right with that he wepte.
18.092: Thanne gan Feith felly the false Jewes despise —
18.093: Callede hem caytyves acorsed for evere:
18.094: " For this foule vileynye vengeaunce to yow falle!
18.095: To do the blynde bete hym ybounde, it was a boyes counseille.
18.096: Cursede caytyves! Knyghthood was it nevere
18.097: To mysdo a deed body by daye or by nyghte.
18.098: The gree yit hath he geten, for al his grete wounde.
18.099: " For youre champion chivaler, chief knyght of yow alle,
18.100: Yilt hym recreaunt rennyng, right at Jesus wilk.
18.101: For be this derknesse ydo, Deeth worth yvenquisshed;
18.102: And ye, lurdaynes, han ylost — for Lif shal have the maistrye.
18.103: And youre fraunchyse, that fre was, fallen is in thraldom,
18.104: And ye, cherles, and youre children, cheve shulle ye nevere,
181