a lang time, the maister o thae servans cam hame an huid a racknin wi them. Him at hed gotten the five talents cam forrit wi ither five talents forbye an said, ‘Maister, ye lippent me wi five talents: see, here’s ither five talents I hae made.’
“ ‘Weill dune, guid an leal servan!’ said his maister til him. ‘Ye hae been leal wi the gydin o little, I s’ gíe ye the gydin o muckle. Awà in tae your Maister’s banqet!’
“Syne him at hed gotten the twa talents cam forrit an said, ‘Maister, ye lippent me wi twa talents: see, here’s ither twa talents I hae made.’
“ ‘Weill dune, guid an leal servan!’ said his maister. ‘Ye hae been leal wi the gydin o little, I s’ gíe ye the gydin o muckle. Awà in tae your Maister’s banqet!
“Lest, him at gat the ae talent cam forrit an said, ‘Maister, I kent ye for a dour man an a stour, at maws whaur he hesna sawn, an shears whaur he hesna seedit; sae I wis feared, an gaed awà an hade your talent i the grund: here it is back tae ye.’
“Ye sweird wratch o a servan!’ said his maister. ‘Ye kent at I maw whaur I haena sawn, an shear whaur I haena seedit—ye kent that, na? A-weill, than, ye suid hae pitten my siller i the Bank, an syne I wad hae gotten it back wi annualrent at my hamecome. Tak his talent awà frae him, an gíe it til him at hes the ten talents:
For til havers mair is gíen,
till it faur outgangs their need:
frae not-havers is taen
een what they hae.
An cast yon wanwurdie servan intil the mirk outbye.’ It is there at the yaumer an the chirkin o teeth will be!
“Whan the Son o Man comes in his glorie, an aa his angels wi him, he will sit him doun on his throne o glorie; an aa the fowks o the yird will be gethert afore him, an he will shed them intil twa hirsels, as a herd sheds the sheep frae the gaits; an the sheep he will hirsel on his richt haund, an the gaits on his cair haund.
“Than the Kíng will say til them on his richt haund, ‘Come your waas, ye at hes my Faither’s blissin, an tak possession o your heirskip, the Kíngdom prepared for ye frae the founds o the warld wis laid. For I wis yaup, an ye gae me mait; I wis thristie, an ye gae me drink; I wis an outlan, an ye gae me bed an bicker; I wis nakit, an ye cleadit me; I wis síck, an ye tentit me; I wis in jyle, an ye cam inbye tae me.’
“Syne the richteous will answer, ‘Lord, whan saw we ye yaup, an gae ye mait? Or thristie, an gae ye drink? Whan saw we ye an outlan, an gae ye bed an bicker? Or nakit, an cleadit ye? Whan saw we ye síck or in jyle, an gaed inbye til ye?’
“Syne the Kíng will say til them, ‘Atweill, I tell ye, oniething at ye did til ane o thir hummle brithers o mine, ye did it til me.’
“Than will he say til them on his cair haund, ‘Awà wi ye out o my sicht, ye curst anes, awà til the iverlestin fire prepared for the Deivil an his angels! For I wis yaup, an ye gae-me-na mait; I wis thristie, an ye gae-me-na drink; I wis an outlan, an ye gae-me-na bed an bicker; I wis nakit, an ye cleadit-me-na; I wis síck an in jyle, an ye tentit-me-na.’
“Syne they, tae, will answer, ‘Lord, whan saw we ye yaup, or thristie, or an outlan, or nakit, or síck, or in jyle, an wadna dae ocht for ye?’
“An he will say tae them, ‘Atweill, I tell ye, oniething at ye did no dae til ane o thir hummle anes, ye did no dae it tae me.’ An thir will gang awà til iverlestin punishment, but the richteous will gang til iverlestin life.”
26 WHAN HE WIS throu wi aa thir discoùrses, Jesus said til his disciples, “It’s the Passowre the day efter the morn, ye ken; an the Son o Man is tae be haundit owre tae be crucifíed than.”
Juist at this time, the Heid-Príests an Elders o the Fowk forgethert i the pailace o the Chíef Heid-Príest, Caiaphas bi name, an collogued thegither hou they micht get their haunds on him bi some wimple an pit him tae deith—“no on the Feast-Day, tho,” said they, “for fear o raisin a stírrie amang the fowk!”
JESUS WIS STAPPIN in Bethanie in Símon the Lipper’s houss, whan a wuman cam up til him wi an alabaster stowp o dairthfu ointment in her haund, as he lay at the buird, an tuimed it owre his heid. The disciples wis angert tae see it. “The waistrie o it!” said they. “It micht hae been sauld for a gey soum, an the siller gíen tae the puir.”
Jesus heared them, an said tae them, “What needs ye fyke the wuman that gate? It’s a bonnielike thing she’s dune tae me! The puir ye hae ey amang ye, but ye s’ haena me ey. Her pourin this ointment on my bodie is a fore-redd for my buiral. Atweill, I tell ye, whauriver the Gospel is preached i the haill warld, the storie o this at she hes dune will be tauld an aa, sae at she may ne’er be forgot.”
Syne ane o the Twal, him they caa’d Judas Iscariot, gaed tae the Heid-Príests an said til them, “What will ye gíe me tae pit him in your haunds?” They peyed him doun thertie siller píeces; an frae that time forrit he wis ey seekin an opportunitie tae betray him.
ON THE FIRST day o the Feast o Barmless Breid the disciples cam an speired at Jesus, “Whaur is it your will we suid mak fore-redd for your Passowre?”
“Gang tae Sae-an-Sae i the toun an say til him, ‘The Maister says, “My time is naurhaund; I am tae haud the Passowre wi my disciples i your houss”.’ ” The disciples did his biddin, an made fore-redd for the Passowre.
Whan it wis geylins gloamed, he lay in tae the buird wi the Twal, an throu the diet he said tae them, “Atweill, I tell ye, ane o ye is tae betray me.”
Richt wae war they tae hear him, an begoud tae speir at him, ilkane o them, “No me, Maister, shairlie?”
He answert, “Him at dippit his haund eenou i the bicker wi me is the ane at is tae betray me. The Son o Man maun een gae his gate, as it says i the Buik anent him, but black s’ be the faa o the man at will be the mean o the Son o Man’s betrayal. Better wad it been for him, gin he hed ne’er been born, that man!”
Syne Judas, at wis betrayin him, said, “It’s no me ye mean, Rabbi, shairlie?”
“Ye hae said it,” qo Jesus.
AFORE THEY WAR throu wi their sipper, Jesus tuik a laif an, efter he hed speired a blissin, brak it an gíed it tae the disciples, sayin, “Tak an ait this: it is my bodie.” Syne he tuik a tass an, efter he hed gíen thanks tae God, raxed it til them, sayin, “Drink ye this, ilkane o ye: it is my bluid, the Bluid o the Covenant, whilk is skailed for monie for the forgíeness o sins. An this I tell ye: I s’ drink nae mair the frute o the vine afore I drink a noo wine wi ye in my Faither’s Kíngdom.”
SYNE THEY SANG the Passowre Hyme, an gaed out an awà tae the Hill o Olives. There Jesus said tae them, “This nicht ye will aa be fauss tae me. For it is written i the Buik:
‘I will ding the herd,
an the sheep o his hirsel will be sparpelt abreid.’
But efter I hae risen, I will gang afore ye til Galilee.”
Peter said til him, “Lat aa the warld be fauss tae ye, Peter will ne’er be fauss!”
“Atweill, I tell ye,” qo Jesus, “this nicht, afore
