For þus I rede of a woman þat had done an horrybull synne, and myght neuer, for schame, schryue hyr þerof. And oft, when ho come to schryf, scho was yn purpos forto haue ben schryuen; but euer þe fend put such a schame yn hur hert, þat scho had neuer grace to clanse hur þerofe. Then, on a nyght, as scho lay yn hur bed, and þoght moch on þat synne, Ihesu Crist come to hur and sayde: ‘My doghtyr, why wol þou not schew me þy hert, and schryue þe of þat synne þat þou lyse yn?’ ‘Lord,’ quod scho, ‘I may not, for schame.’ þen sayde Crist: ‘Schew me þy hond’; and toke hur hond, and put hit ynto hys syde, and sayde, and drogh hit all blody out. ‘Be þou no more aschamed to opyn þy hert to me, þen I am to opon my syde to þe.’

(For thus I read of a woman who had done a horrible sin, and might never, for shame, confess herself of it. And often, when she had come to confession, she intended to have been confessed; but every time the fiend put such a shame in her heart that she never had the grace to cleanse herself of it. Then, one night, as she lay in her bed and thought much on that sin, Jesus Christ came to her and said: ‘My daughter, why will you not show me your heart and confess yourself of that sin that you lie in?’ ‘Lord,’ said she, ‘I may not, for shame.’ Then said Christ: ‘Show me your hand’; and took her hand, and put it into his side, and sighed, and drew it all bloody out. ‘Be no more ashamed to open your heart to me then I am to open my side to you.’)