[Jacopone da Todi, Donna de Paradiso, “Laude”, XC, 13th century.]
Nuncio:
Lady of Paradise,
Thy son a captive lies,
Jesus Christ the blest.
Haste! see! the folk are fain
To do Him grief and pain;
Meseems He will be slain.
Of their stripes oppressed.
[...]
Virgin:
O son, my son, my son!
Of lilies loveliest one !
Help, counsellor is none
For my heart distressed.
Son, with sweet eyes that smiled
Where now Thine answers mild?
Why dost Thou hide, my child,
From Thy Mother's breast?
Nuncio:
My Lady, see!
They lead Him to the Tree
Where the true Light must be
Made manifest.
Virgin:
Cross, is this thy skill.
My Son to take and kill;
On Him to work thy will,
That did no man molest?
Nuncio:
Help! Lady full of woe;
For see, they strip Him now
And on the Cross bestow,
With nails, that Body blest.
[...]
Christ:
Mother, why do you weep,
Nay, you shall serve and keep
My dearly-loved, the sheep
I from the world did wrest.
[...]
