55. Thus, glorious Lord, it stirreth in my mind: I see thy blood pour out of hands and of feet, thy side pierced with the spear, thy wounds dried and all run out, thy body all be-bled, thy chin hanging down and thy teeth bare; the white of thine eyes is cast upward, thy skin that was so lovely is become all pale, the crown on thine head is fearful in my sight, the hair is clotted with the blood and bloweth all about. The memory of that matter, I would it were my death!
56. Lord, I see thy mother stand by thy side; she sobbeth and sigheth and falleth down: John on the other side is so full of sorrow. They wring their hands and make much dole. When they look upward the sight of the rood pierceth to their hearts, as it were death. They fall down, weeping and groaning full sore—and I am reason of every woe.
57. Lady, for thy mercy, since I deserved all that befell thee, and all is my right; grant me, of thy grace, a sight of thy sorrow, a particle of thy pain to occupy me with, that I may in a particle feel somewhat, and a part of thy sorrow—all of which I have made!
58. Ah! Lord, they cast lots on thy clothes (as the Book said long before), and left thee naked between two thieves; so foul as thy death was, never man suffered. Then began the folk to flock towards the town from the mount of Calvary where thou hanged on the rood. That sight is so wonderful, they flowed so thick, each man to his own home, each his own way. Then was thou in thy Godhead full swiftly at hell, to glad the souls that looked for thy coming. The bliss and the gladdening, the mirth and the liking, that they then had, no man may tell with tongue! Thou opened hell-gates, Lord, through thy might, and took out of pain many that were there;—Adam and Eve, and all that were dear to thee, that had in their lives kept thy laws.
59. Lord, after that, Joseph of Arimathy took leave of Pilate to take thee down as it were at time of evensong, with help of Nicodemus, of thy mother and of John, that stood there sorrowfully. They took thy blessed body off the rood, they straightened thine arms that were become stark, and stretched them down by thy sides. They bare thee to the place that thou were buried in; they washed off the cold blood and made thee clean; they laid thee in the sepulchre that was new, that Joseph had ordained for himself; they anointed thee with ointment that smelled sweet. The sorrow that thy mother had, is sorrow indeed to hear!
60. Lady, the tears that there thou wept, made thy breast and thy cheeks all wet. Thou fell down at his feet, and kissed them full sweet, and ever, as thou kissed, sore thou wept!
61. Then was there ward set of armed knights, to keep the sepulchre till the third day.
Here endeth the meditation of Richard, Hermit of Hampole, on the Passion of the Lord: who died in the Year of the Lord 1348.