At that Peter spak up an said, “Luik, we hae forhoued aathing an fallowt ye: what guid will we hae o’d?”
Jesus said tae them, “Atweill, I tell ye, at the gryte renooin o the warld, whan the Son o Man is saitit on his throne o glorie, ye, for your pairt, at hes fallowt me, will sit on twal thrones juidgin the Twal Clans o Israel; an ilkane at hes forhoued housses or brithers or sisters or faither or mither or bairns or launds 49for my sake will hae his loss made up til him monie times owre, an will heir iverlestin life. But monie at is foremaist the nou will than be henmaist, an monie at is henmaist will be foremaist.
20 “The Kíngdom o Heiven is like the guidman o a haudin at gaed out at skreich o day tae fee laubourers for wark in his vine-yaird. He gree’d wi them at he faund for a merk for the day’s darg, an sent them intil his vine-yaird.
“Syne he gaed out again i the mids o the forenuin; an, seein ithers staunding about idle i the mercat-place, he said til them, ‘Gang ye, tae, intil my vine-yaird, an I s’ pey ye a fair wauge’; an awà they gaed.
“Aince mair he gaed out at twal hours, an again i the mids o the efternuin, an did the same as afore. Syne an hour afore lowsin-time he saw ithersome staundin about, an said til them, ‘Hou is it ye ar staundin here haund-idle aa day?’
“ ‘Naebodie’s fee’d us,’ said they.
“ ‘Awà ye, tae, intil my vine-yaird,’ qo he til them.
“Whan the eenin cam, the guidman said til his gríeve, ‘Cry the men in an gíe them their pey: begin wi the henmaist, an sae on till ye come tae the first.’ Sae them at wis fee’d an hour afore lowsin-time cam forrit, an wis gíen a merk the píece.
“Whan the first-tae-come cam forrit, they war thinkin they wad get mair, but they war gíen nae mair nor a merk the píece. Syne they begoud girnin at the guidman: ‘Thir lest-comers hes wrocht but ae hour,’ said they, ‘an ye hae peyed them the same as hiz, at hes trauchelt an tyauved the haill day i the bleezin sun!’
“But he gae them their answer: ‘Fríend,’ qo he til ane o them, ‘I’m no wrangin ye onie: gree’d-ye-na wi me for a merk? Tak what’s awin ye, an awà ye gae! I’m tae pey this lest-comer the same as ye. Can I no dae as I like wi my nain siller? Or maun ye tak it ill out, gin I am furthie?’
“That is the gate the henmaist will be foremaist, an the foremaist henmaist.”
WHAN JESUS WIS gaein doun tae Jerusalem, he tuik the Twal awà frae the lave an said til them, as they gaed alang, “Listen, we ar on our road doun tae Jerusalem; an there the Son o Man will be gíen up tae the Heid-Príests an Doctors o the Law, an they will duim him tae deith an haund him owre tae the haithen tae be jamphed an leashed an crucifíed: but on the third day he will rise again.”
Efter that the mither o Zebedee’s sons cam up wi her sons an gaed doun on her knees afore him tae seek a fauvour o him.
“What is your will?” qo he til her.
“I want ye,” said she til him, “tae say at thir twa sons o mine is tae sit, the tane on your richt haund, an the tither on your cair haund, in your Kíngdom.”
“Ye kenna what it is ye ar seekin,” qo Jesus tae the brithers. “Can ye drink the tass at I am tae drink?”
“That can we,” said they.
“Atweill will ye drink my tass,” qo he til them: “but saits on my richt haund an my cair haund isna mine tae gíe; they will hae them at my Faither hes ordeined is tae hae them.”
The ither ten disciples hed heared aa this, an they war sair mis-set owre the twa brithers. But Jesus caa’d them til him an said, “Amang the haithen, as ye ken, the rulers lairds it owre the lave, an the gryte fowk lats them ken they ar their maisters. But that isna tae be the gate o it wi ye: upò the contrair, him at wad be gryte amang ye maun be your servan, an him at wad be the first amang ye maun be your slave—een as the Son o Man camna tae be saired, but tae sair, an tae gíe his life as a ransom for monie.”
THEY WAR GAEIN out o Jericho wi an unco thrang o fowk fallowin them, whan what suid happen but twa blinnd men at wis sittin at the gateside, hearin at Jesus wis gaein by, cried out, “Maister, Son o Dauvit, hae pítie on’s!”
The fowk 50tauld them, gey rochlike, tae haud their wheesht. But they onlie scraiched out the louder, “Maister, Son o Dauvit, hae pítie on’s!”
Syne Jesus stappit an cried them til him: “What is it ye wad hae me dae for ye?” qo he.
“We want our een onsteikit, Maister,” said they; an at that Jesus, muived wi hairt-pítie for them, titched their een; an immedentlie their sicht cam back, an they fallowt him.
21 WHAN THEY HED come the lenth o Bethphagie an the Hill o Olives, no faur frae Jerusalem, Jesus sent twa o the disciples on an eerant. “Gang your waas tae yon clachan forenent ye,” he tauld them, “an strecht awà ye’ll finnd there a tethert cuddie-ass, an a cowt aside her: lowse them, an bring them here. Gin onie-bodie says ocht til ye, tell him at the Maister needs them, an syne he s’ lat ye tak them awà but mair adae.”
This happent at the wurd o the Prophet micht come true:
Say til the Dachter o Zíon:
‘Behaud, here comes thy Kíng til thee,
sae cannie an douce, ridin on an ass,
on a cowt, the foal o an ass-baist.’
Sae the disciples gaed their waas an did as Jesus hed bidden them. They brocht the ass an the cowt, an they laid their coats on them; an he backit them.
Syne the fowk i their thousands strawed their coats on the road, an ithers sneddit brainches aff the trees an strawed the road wi them. An iver an on the thrang at gaed afore him an the thrang at cam ahent him cried out:
“Hosanna til the Son o Dauvit!
Blissins on him at comes i the name o the Lord!
Hosanna i the heicht o heiven!”
Whan Jesus cam intil Jerusalem, the haill toun wis pitten in a stír: “Wha’s this avà?” fowk speired; an the croud answert, “This is Jesus the Prophet, frae Nazareth in Galilee!”
EFTERHIN JESUS GAED intil the Temple an drave out aa them at bocht an sauld in it, an whummelt the tables o the money-cheingers an the saits o them at sauld dous: “It says i the Bible,” qo he tae them, “ ‘My houss sal be caa’d a houss o prayer’: but ye ar makkin it a rubbers’ howff.”
Syne some blinnd fowk an lameters cam up til him i the Temple, an he hailed them. But whan the Heid-Príests an Doctors o the Law saw the uncos at he wrocht, an heared the callans cryin i the Temple, “Hosanna til the Son o Dauvit”, they war ill-sortit, an said til him, “Hear ye what thir louns is sayin?”
“Ay, div I,” qo he. “But hae ye ne’er read i your Bibles: ‘Thou hes lairnt the mouths o littlans an pap-bairns tae ruise thee’?” Wi that he quat them, an gaed out the toun tae Bethanie, whaur he bade the nicht.
AIR I THE mornin he gaed back tae the toun; an, as he gaed, he begoud tae be yaup. Sae, seein a feg-tree at the gateside, he gaed up til it, but nocht faund he on it but leafs. “Niver nae mair will ye beir frute again,” said he til it; an the feg-tree withert awà afore their een. The disciples wis dumfounert tae see it, an said, “Hou is it the feg-tree’s withert awà in a gliff like that?”
Jesus answert, “Atweill, I tell ye, gin ye hae faith, an misdout nane, ye will dae mair nor strick feg-trees deid wi a wurd—ay, gin ye say tae this hill, ‘Up wi ye an cast yoursel intil the loch’, the thing will be dune. Mairfortaiken, oniething ye pray for wi faith, ye s’ een get the same.”
SYNE