# The English and Scottish Popular Ballads/Part 1/Chapter 23

For more information, see Wikipedia: Judas (ballad).
   HIT wes upon a Scere-thorsday that ure loverd aros; Ful milde were the wordes he spec to Judas. ‘Judas, thou most to Jurselem, oure mete for to bugge; Thritti platen of selver thou bere up othi rugge. ‘Thou comest fer ithe brode stret, fer ithe brode strete; Summe of thine tunesmen ther thou meiht imete.’ . . . . . Immette wid is soster, the swikele wimon. ‘Judas, thou were wrthe me stende the wid ston, For the false prophete that tou bilevest upon.’ ‘Be stille, leve soster, thin herte the tobreke! Wiste min loverd Crist, ful wel he wolde be wreke.’ ‘Judas, go thou on the roc, heie upon the ston; Lei thin heved imy barm, slep thou the anon.’ Sone so Judas of slepe was awake, Thritti platen of selver from hym weren itake. He drou hymselve bi the cop, that al it lavede a blode; The Jewes out of Jurselem awenden he were wode. Foret hym com the riche Jeu that heihte Pilatus: ‘Wolte sulle thi loverd, that hette Jesus?’ ‘I nul sulle my loverd [for] nones cunnes eihte, Bote hit be for the thritti platen that he me bitaihte.’ ‘Wolte sulle thi lord Crist for enes cunnes golde?’ ‘Nay, bote hit be for the platen that he habben wolde.’ In him com ur lord Crist gon, as is postles seten at mete: ‘Wou sitte ye, postles, ant wi nule ye ete? [‘Wou sitte ye, postles, ant wi nule ye ete?] Ic am ibouht ant isold today for oure mete.’ Up stod him Judas: ‘Lord, am I that . . .? ‘I nas never othe stude ther me the evel spec.’ Up him stod Peter, and spec wid al is mihte, . . . . . . ‘Thau Pilatus him come wid ten hundred cnihtes, Yet ic wolde, loverd, for thi love fihte.’ ‘Still thou be, Peter, wel I the icnowe; Thou wolt fursake me thrien ar the coc him crowe.’
   Hit wes vpon a scereþorsday þat vre louerd aros,
   Ful milde were þe wordes he spec to Iudas:
   'Iudas, þou most to Iurselem oure mete for to bugge;
   Þritti platen of seluer þou bere up o þi rugge.
   Þou comest fer i þe brode stret, fer in þe brode strete,
   Summe of þine cunesmen þer þou meist imete.'
   Imette wid is soster, þe swikele wimon:
   'Iudas, þou were wrþe me stende þe wid ston, .ii.
   For þe false prophete þat tou bileuest upon.'
   'Be stille, leue soster, þin herte þe tobreke!
   Wiste min louerd Crist, ful wel he wolde be wreke.'
   'Iudas, go þou on þe roc, heie upon þe ston,
   Lei þin heued i my barm, slep þou þe anon.'
   Sone so Judas of slepe was awake,
   Þritti platen of seluer from hym weren itake.
   He drou hymselue bi þe top, þat al it lauede ablode.
   Þe iewes out of Iurselem a wenden he were wode.
   Fforet hym com þe riche ieu þat heiste Pilatus:
   'Wolte sulle þi louerd þat hette Iesus?'
   'I nul sulle my louerd for nones cunnes eiste,
   Bote hit be for þe þritti platen þat he me bitaiste.'
   'Wolte sulle þi lord Crist for enes cunnes golde?'
   'Nay, bote hit be for þe platen þat he habben wolde.'
   In him com ur lord gon as is postles seten at mete:
   'Wou sitte ye, postles, ant wi nule ye ete? .ii.
   Ic am iboust ant isold today for oure mete.'
   Vp stod him Iudas: 'Lord, am I þat [...]?
   I nas neuer o þe stude þer me þe euel spec.'
   Vp him stod Peter ant spec wid al is miste:
   "Þau Pilatus him come wid ten hundred cnistes, .ii.
   Yet ic wolde, louerd, for þi loue fiste!'
   'Stille þou be, Peter, wel I þe icnowe.
   Þou wolt fursake me þrien ar þe coc him crowe.'