1 Y am a very vyne, and my fadir is an erthe tilier.2 Ech braunch in me that berith not fruyt, he schal take awey it; and ech that berith fruyt, he schal purge it, that it bere the more fruyt.3 Now ye ben clene, for the word that Y haue spokun to you.4 Dwelle ye in me, and Y in you; as a braunche may not make fruyt of it silf, but it dwelle in the vyne, so nether ye, but ye dwelle in me.5 Y am a vyne, ye the braunchis. Who that dwellith in me, and Y in hym, this berith myche fruyt, for with outen me ye moun no thing do.6 If ony man dwellith not in me, he schal be caste out as a braunche, and schal wexe drie; and thei schulen gadere hym, and thei schulen caste hym in to the fier, and he brenneth.7 If ye dwellen in me, and my wordis dwelle in you, what euer thing ye wolen, ye schulen axe, and it schal be don to you.8 In this thing my fadir is clarified, that ye brynge forth ful myche fruyt, and that ye be maad my disciplis.