himsel, but the Faither alane. Be ye tentie an haud ye wauken, for ye kenna whan the time is tae come. It is as gin a man hes gane furth o hame an kintra, lippnin his houss tae the chairge o his servans. Ilkane o them hes been gíen his nain wark tae dae, an the janitor’s orders is no tae steik an ee, but be waukrif. Siclike ye maun be waukrif, for ye kenna whan the Maister will be back—i the gloamin or the howe o the nicht, the smaa hours or the dawin: gin no, he will aiblins cast up o a suddentie an finnd ye sleepin. What I say tae ye, I say til aa: be waukrif!”
14 IT WANTIT BUT twa days or the Passowre an the Feast o Barmless Breid, an the Heid-Príests an Doctors o the Law wis castin owre hou they micht git their haunds on Jesus bi some prat an pit him tae deith. “But no throu the Feast,” said they, “or we’r like tae hae the fowk raisin a stramash!”
Ae day, whan he wis lyin at the buird i the houss o Símon the Lipper at Bethanie, a wuman cam in wi a stowp o dairthfu uilie o rael nard in her haund an, brakkin aff the tap o the stowp, tuimed the uilie owre his heid.
Some o them at wis there wis sair ill-pleised an said til ither, “What for’s this waistrie o guid nard? It micht hae been sauld for three hunder white shillins an mair, an the siller gíen tae the puir!” Syne they turned an yokit on the wuman.
But Jesus said, “Lat her abee; what cause hae ye tae fash her? It wis braw an weill dune o her, this at she hes dune for me. The puir ye hae ey wi ye, an ye can dae them kindness whaniver ye will, but me ye s’ no hae ey wi ye. She hes dune aa at wis in her pouer tae dae; she hes anointit my bodie for my buiral afore the day. Atweill, I tell ye, whauriver the Gospel is preached i the haill warld her storie will be tauld, sae as she s’ ne’er be forgot.”
Syne Judas Iscariot, ane o the Twal, gaed awà til the 64Heid-Príests tae offer tae betray him intil their haunds. Whan he tauld them what he hed comed for, they war fair liftit up an shored him a soum o siller, an he begoud tae luik out for a guid opportunitie o betrayin him.
ON THE FIRST day o the Feast, whan the Jews wis in yuiss tae fell the Passowre Lamb, the disciples speired at Jesus whaur it wis his will they suid ging an mak fore-redd for him tae ait his Passowre. Sae he sent aff twa o them wi thir orders: “Ging intil the toun,” he tauld them, “an there ye’ll forgether wi a man wi a watter-kit cairriein. Fallow him; an whan he gaes intil a houss, say til the guidman o the same, ‘The Maister baud us ax ye whaur is the chaumer trystit for him an his disciples tae ait the Passowre in.’ The man will tak ye up the stair an shaw ye a muckle chaumer wi couches weill spreid up, an aathing in order.8 That is whaur ye ar tae mak fore-redd for us.” Sae the twasome tuik the gate an cam intil the toun, whaur they faund aathing as Jesus hed tauld them; an they made reddie for the Passowre.
Whan it wis weirin late, Jesus cam til the place wi the Twal. As they lay at the buird takkin their sipper, he said, “Atweill, I tell ye, ane o ye is tae betray me, ane o ye at is here at the buird wi me.”
Dule war they tae hear him, an they said til him, ane efter anither, “No me, shairlie?”
“It is ane o the Twal,” qo he, “ane at is dippin his píece i the bicker wi me. The Son o Man maun een gae the gate at Scriptur foretells for him: but waesucks for the man at is tae betray him! Better wad it been for that man, gin he hed ne’er been born.”
Whan they war ey at the buird, Jesus tuik a laif an, efter he hed axed a blissin, brak it an gíed it til them, sayin, “Tak ye this, it is my bodie.”
Syne he tuik a caup, gae thenks tae God, an raxed it til them, an ilkane o them drank frae it, an he said til them, “This is my Bluid o the Covenant, whilk is skailed for monie. Atweill, I tell ye, I winna lip the bree o the grape again or the day tae come whan I drink a new wine i the Kíngdom o God.”
WHAN THEY HED sung the Passowre Psaum, they gaed out an awà til the Hill o Olives. Belyve Jesus said tae them, “Ye will aa turn fauss an faithless, for it is written in Scriptur:
‘I will ding the herd,
an the hirsel will be sparpelt abreid.’
But efter I hae risen frae the deid, I will ging on afore ye tae Galilee.”
Peter said til him, “Lat ithers be fauss an faithless, Peter will ey haud leal an true!”
Jesus answert, “Atweill, I tell ye, nae later nor this day’s nicht, or the cock craws twice, ye will disavou me thrice.”
But Peter threapit the mair, “Tho I buid díe wi ye, I winna dis avou ye nane, at winna I!” An siclike said the haill o them.
Syne they cam til a dail caa’d Gethsemanè, an he said til his disciples, “Sit ye here, till I ging an pray.”
Sae they bade there, but he gaed on wi Peter an Jeames an John. An nou an unco dridder cam owre him, an he said til them, “My saul is likin tae díe for wae; bide ye here an haud ye wauken.”
Syne he gaed forrit a bittock an cuist himsel on the grund an prayed at, gin it coud be, the hour o dree micht ging by him. “Abba, Faither,” he prayed, “nocht is abuin thy pouer, 65hain me this caup: yit no as my will, but as thy will, is.”
Syne he cam back an faund them asleep, an he said til Peter, “Asleep, Símon, asleep? Docht-ye-na bide waukin ae hour? Bide ye aa waukin, an haud at the prayin, at ye haena tae dree nae sair seyal. Tho the spírit be 66freck, the flesh is 67feckless.”
Again he gaed awà an prayed the same prayer as afore. Syne he cam back aince mair an faund them asleep, for their een wis hivvie wi tire; an they kentna what answer tae gíe him.
Yit a third time he cam back, an nou he said til them, “Ey sleepin? Ey takkin your rest? Lang eneuch hae ye sleepit. The hour is comed: see, the Son o Man is eenou tae be betrayed intil the haunds o sinners! Rise ye up, an lat us gae meet them: ay, here he comes, my betrayer.”
The wurds wisna aff his tung afore Judas – ane o the Twal! – cam up, an wi him a thrang o fowk airmed wi whingers an rungs, at hed been sent bi the Heid-Príests, Doctors o the Law, an Elders. The traitor hed gree’d a taiken wi them: “Him at I kiss is the man ye’r seekin,” he hed sayen: “grip him, an tak him awà under siccar gaird.” Sae, nou he wis at the bit, he gaed strecht up til him an caa’d him “Maister” an kissed him; an than the ithers laid haunds on him an huid him siccar.
Ane o the staunders-by drew his whinger an lent the Heid-Príest’s servan a straik at sneddit aff his lug. Jesus than tuik speech in haund: “Am I some reiver,” qo he, “at ye needs come out wi whingers an rungs for tae fang me? Day an dailie I wis in amang ye teachin i the Temple, an ye laidna a haund on me. But Scriptur buid be fulfilled, I trew.”
Syne the haill o his disciples forhoued him an scoured awà. The’ war ae callan, tho, at ey huid efter Jesus. He wis cled in nocht but a linnen hap, an they claucht hauds o him. But he wan lowse o their grips, an awà he ran scuddie-bare, laein his hap i their haunds.
SYNE THEY CAIRRIET Jesus awà til the pailace o the Heid-Príest, whaur the haill o the Heid-Príests an Doctors o the Law an Elders convened. Peter fallowt him a lang gate ahent richt intil the pailace yaird, whaur he sat doun amang the servitors an beikit himsel at the ingle.
I the meantime the Heid-Príests an the haill Council wis seekin evidence on whilk they coud pit Jesus tae deith, but coudna finnd onie; for, tho monie-ane buir witness again him, their witness wis fauss, an their líes didna een compluther. Syne the’ war some stuid up an buir fauss witness again him, sayin at hou they themsels hed hard him say, “I will ding doun this Temple at haund o man biggit, an in three days’ time I will raise up anither temple, biggit bi nae man’s haund.” But no een thir witnesses’ deposítions compluthert.
Syne the Heid-Príest rase frae his sait an, comin forrit intil the bodie o the court, speired at Jesus, “Answer ye nocht? What mak ye o this witness again ye?” But the ne’er a wurd spak he.
The Heid-Príest than pit anither queystin til him: “Ar ye the Christ,” said he, “the Son o the Blissit Ane?”