Na, ye maun be perfyte, as your Faither in heiven is perfyte!
6 “Tak tent no tae dae your guid deeds afore fowk, tae hae them glowrin at ye; that gate ye s’ win nae rewaird o your Faither in heiven. Toutna a horn, whan ye gíe an awmous, the wey the hýpocrítes dis i the meetin-housses an the streets, at fowk may ruise them. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan ye gíe an awmous, latna your cair haund ken what your richt haund is daein, sae at your awmous-gíein may be dune in hidlins; an syne your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird.
“Than, whan ye pray, ye maunna be like the hýpocrítes, at likes weill tae staund an pray i the meetin-housses an at the gateheids, sae at fowk may see them. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan ye pray, gang intil your benmaist chaumer an tak the door wi ye, an syne pray til your Faither, at bides whaur nane can see him; an your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird. Rame-ramena awà, whan ye pray, like the haithen, at trews they will be hairkent for their tung-rake. Binna ye like them, for your Faither kens what ye hae need o, afore iver ye ax him. Pray ye, than, this gate:
Our Faither in heiven,
hallowt be thy name;
thy Kíngdom come;
thy will be dune
on the yird, as in heiven.
Gíe us our breid for this incomin day;
forgíe us the wrangs we hae wrocht,
as we hae forgíen the wrangs we hae dree’d;
an sey-us-na sairlie, but sauf us
frae the Ill Ane.
Gin ye forgíe ither fowk their fauts, your heivenlie Faither will een forgíe ye your fauts: but gin ye forgíena ithers, God winna forgíe ye your fauts naitherins.
“Whan ye fast, glumph-an-gloom-na like the hýpocrítes, at hings on lang, shilpitlike faces, at fowk may see they ar fastin. Atweill, I tell ye, they hae gotten aa the rewaird they’r tae get. Na, whan yefast, pit oil on your heid an wash your face, sae at ye mayna be seen bi men tae be fastin, but onlie bi God, at bides whaur nane can see him; an your Faither, at sees aathing at is dune in hidlins, will gíe ye your rewaird.
“Huirdna up treisur for yoursels on the yird, whaur mochs an roust gaes wi aathing, an thíefs holes throu the waa an staels: huird ye up treisur for yoursels in heiven, whaur is naither mochs nor roust tae gae wi it, nor thíefs tae hole throu the waa an stael. Whaur your treisur is huirdit, een thair will your hairt be an aa.
“The ee is the lamp o the bodie. Gin your sicht is guid, your haill bodie will be fu o licht: but gin your sicht is bad, your haill bodie will be fu o mirkness. Gin, than, the licht ithin ye is mirkness, hou fell maun be your mirkness!
“Nae man can sair twa maisters: aither he will ill-will the tane an luve the tither, or he will grip til the tane an lichtlifíe the tither. Ye canna sair God an Gowd baith.
“An sae I rede ye: binna sair thochtit hou ye’r tae fend an haud yoursels in life, or whaur ye’r tae finnd cleadin for your bodies. Isna life something mair nor fendin, an the bodie something mair nor cleadin? Luik til the birds i the lift: they saw nane, they shear nane, they getherna nae grain intil barns; an yit your heivenlie Faither gíes them their mait. An arna ye a lang gate tae the fore o them? Whilk o ye can eik hauf an ell til his heicht bi thochtiness? An what for ar ye ey thochtit for cleadin? Luik til the wild lilies an the wey they grow: they tyauvena nor spin-na; an yit I tell ye at Solomon himsel in aa his braivitie wisna buskit hauf sae braw. But gin God sae cleads the girss i the fíelds, at is growin the day, an the morn is cuissen intil the uin, will he no be faur liker tae clead ye? Shame on your want o faith!
“Binna thochtit, than, an ey sayin tae yoursels, ‘Bit an drap for our wymes, claes for our backs—whaur ar they tae come frae?’ Thir is the things at the haithen is ey taen up wi; an, mair atowre, your heivenlie Faither kens at ye hae need o them aa. Na, afore aathing seek ye his Kíngdom an his richteousness, an syne ye s’ be gíen aa thir ither things forbye. Binna thochtit, than, for the morn; lae the morn tae be thochtit for itsel; ilka day hes eneuch adae wi its nain ills.
7 “Juidgena ithers, an ye wadna be juidged yoursels. Ye will be juidged the same wey as ye juidge, an 33the meisur ye gíe will be the meisur ye get.
“Hou is it ye luik til the spail in your brither’s ee, an tentna the dail in your ain? Hou can ye say til your brither, ‘Lat me tak yon spail out o your ee’, an here a dail in your ain ee aa the time? Ye hýpocríte, first tak the dail out o your ain ee, an syne ye s’ see richt tae tak the spail out o your brither’s ee!
“Gíena halie flesh tae dowgs, an castna murlins o halie breid afore swine, for fear at they patter them wi their feet, an syne turn an rive ye in píeces.
Ax, an it s’ be gíen ye;
seek, an ye s’ finnd;
chap, an the door s’ be apent til ye.
Ilkane at axes gets,
an ilkane at seeks finnds,
an til onie-ane at chaps
the door will be apent.
Is there a man o ye at his son axed breid o, an he wad rax him a stane? Or a fish, an he wad rax him an ether? Gin ye, than, for as ill-daein as ye ar, ken hou tae gíe your childer guid gifts, hou muckle mair will your Faither in heiven gíe guid things til them at axes him? Ey dae as ye wad be dune til: that is the haill o the Law an the Prophets.
“Gae ye in at the nairrow yett. Side an wide is the gate at leads tae sculder, an monie feck traivels it: but nairrow is the yett, an nae braider is the gate, at leads til life; an no monie finnds it.
“Be-waur o fauss prophets at come tae ye in sheep’s cleadin, but aneth is ravenish woufs. Ye will ken them bi their deeds. Div fowk gether grapes aff bríar-busses, or fegs aff thrissles? Na, fy: ilka guid tree beirs guid frute, an ilka 34rotten tree beirs ill frute. A guid tree canna beir ill frute, nor a 35rotten tree guid frute. Ilka tree at beirsna guid frute is cuttit doun an cuissen intil the fire. Sae ye will ken thir men bi their frute.
“No ilkane at says til me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will win intil the Kíngdom o Heiven, but him alane at dis the will o my Faither in heiven. Monie-ane will say tae me on yon day, ‘Lord, Lord, prophesíed-we-na in your name, an in your name cuist-we-na out ill spírits, an in your name wrocht-we-na míracles a feck?’ Syne I will say til them braid out: ‘I niver kent ye: atowre frae me, ill-daers at ye ar!’
“Ilkane, than, at hears thir biddins o mine an dis them is like a forethochtie man at biggit his houss on rock. On dang the renn, an the spates cam doun, an the winds they blew an blaudit yon houss: but it fellna, because its founds wis set i the rock. But ilkane at hears thir biddins o mine an dis-them-na is like a fuilish chíel at biggit his houss on saund. On dang the renn, an the spates cam doun, an the winds they blew an blattert yon houss; an doun it fell, an sic a stramash as that wis!”
Wi that Jesus brocht his discoùrse til an end; an the fowk wis dumfounert at his mainner o teachin, for he spak wi the voice o authoritie, an no like their Doctors o the Law.
8 WHAN HE HED come doun aff the braeside,
