.0^ 
 
 t^ "- 
 
 ^ !R 
 
 
 ^^' 
 
 
 
 
 ,^^"- 
 
 
 
 O N O 
 
 ■«-' 
 
 
 
 yo o > , rAQ^ o ^ 
 
 ^ <i^ '^ * '^' *P •^ I .40! ^' 
 
 
 
 
 '">C&:.^ 
 
 <?■ •" o w o ° <?,^ O, * 
 
 -^ ^- '^ 
 
 >^ 
 
 .Sv 
 
 1 • 
 
 .*'-^^; 
 
'' .A 
 
 
 .CV ° " ' -f '^ 
 
 
 ^0 
 
 
 
 
 • • ' O- \r . » • o *- 
 
 
 
 
 ^'^^ 
 
 A 
 
 ^ 
 
 .^' 
 
 
 
 
 ,'^' 
 
 
 ^0' 
 
 
 5 -.T.n^ A <^ 
 
 
 
 'Pj, '■ O H ' 
 
 
 
 i^^ ^0^ 
 
 ,4q 
 
 0' 
 
 
 o_ 
 
 .0 
 
 
 
 0^ 
 
 
 
 ^o. 
 
 .0- 
 
 
 ' ^ <^ o\ 
 
 A 
 
 
 ^w. 
 
 > 
 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 
 
 •^ y 
 
 
 
 
 S, O 
 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' '■ ' ' '"" " J, 
 
 ^^ 
 
 .-^L, 
 
 .&' 
 
The Star of Bethlehem 
 
 A MIRACLE PLAY OF THE NATIVITY 
 
 RECONSTRUCTED FROM 
 (OF THE xnith, XlVth, AND XVth CENTURIES) 
 
 And Supplemented and Adapted to Modern 
 Conditions 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY 
 
 As composed for Mr. Ben 01*661, and presented 
 by his Company 
 
 FOX, DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 
 
5 1904 
 
 CLASS a--XXo. Na 
 COPY B 
 
 Copyright, 1904 
 By FOX, DUPFIELD AND COMPANY 
 
 The liberty of public performance and control 
 of the same have been legally assigned by 
 the Composer to BEN GREET, and such 
 assignment has been recorded in the office of 
 the Librarian of Congress 
 
 Published, September, 1904 
 
 Printed in America 
 
 
 The VniTerslty Press, Cambridge, IT. S. A. 
 
OF THE ENGLISH MIRACLE PLAYS 
 
 IN the miracle plays of our forefathers 
 the mirth, the proverbial philosophy, the 
 social aims, the aesthetic and religious 
 ideals of the Middle Ages still live for us. 
 At first these plays existed as units, each 
 commemorating some episode in the life of 
 Christ or of the saints, or some important 
 fragment of Old Testament history. But 
 gradually they coalesced at this place and 
 that into a cycle (or sequence of anywhere 
 from five to fifty dramatic compositions) 
 covering in one vast survey the whole of 
 sacred history and prophecy, as told in scrip- 
 ture and in ecclesiastical legend, from the 
 Fall of the Angels to the Day of Judgment. 
 The cycle of York stands to one of its 
 component pageants as the minster itself to 
 chapel, cloister, nave or crypt. And the 
 same simple, patient, practical mystics built 
 both cycle and cathedral. If we would 
 
 [v] 
 
know how our fathers Uved and dreamed 
 we should study their temples of dramatic 
 verse as well as their aspirations in stone. 
 
 In England the germs of these cycles are 
 found, even before the Norman Conquest, 
 in dramatic tropes or paraphrases of the 
 sacred narrative, presented by the clergy in 
 connection with the divine service. Later 
 these efforts at histrionic, and therefore more 
 vivid, presentation of scriptural lessons grad- 
 ually lapsed from the Latin into the English 
 tongue, and from the church to the church- 
 yard or the village green, and from the 
 clerical to the lay actor — and they found in 
 the process ever warmer welcome with the 
 people of the town. During the thirteenth, 
 fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the trades- 
 unions of those days, — the crafts or gilds 
 of centres like Chester, York, Coventry, 
 W^akefield, Dublin, Digby, Beverley and 
 half a hundred more, — adopted the cycles 
 and presented them, each in its own way, 
 but in their totality and in chronological 
 sequence, in connection with the great fes- 
 tivals of the Christian year. For the day 
 appointed, say that of Corpus Christi, each 
 gild would have its own portion of the dra- 
 matic mystery to prepare. The gild not 
 
 [vi] 
 
only regarded its particular play as a prop- 
 erty or adjunct of the order, but delighted 
 to improvise new scenes or passages and 
 (in earlier days, at any rate) to stand the 
 expense of the performance. One of the 
 York registers shows that the first pageant 
 of the Cycle of Corpus Christi was acted 
 by the Tanners. It was " God the Father 
 making the heavens, angels and archangels, 
 Lucifer and the angels who fell with him into 
 hell." The second pageant, " the creation of 
 the world," was acted by the Plasterers ; the 
 third, " the making of Adam and Eve out 
 of clay of the earth," by the Cardmakers; 
 the fourth, " God forbidding Adam and Eve 
 to eat of the tree of life," by the Fullers ; 
 and so on — fifty-one plays, closing with 
 Doomsday, which was presented by the 
 craft of Mercers. A certain humorous affin- 
 ity of gild and play occasionally leaps to the 
 eye, as when the Shipwrights devote them- 
 selves to the Construction of the Ark, the 
 Fishmongers to the Flood, the Chandlers to 
 the Shepherds and the Star, the Gold- 
 crafts to the Three Kings, the Nailors and 
 Sawyers to the Massacre of the Inno- 
 cents, and the Barbers to the Baptism of 
 Jesus. Each gild was wont to act on a 
 
 [vii] 
 
wheeled platform or " pageant " scaffold ; 
 and the waggons bearing scenery and players 
 made the circuit of the town, stopping the 
 successive repetition of the performance at 
 duly appointed stations, where spectators in 
 huge concourse stood or sat to be edified 
 from dewy morn till eve. The celebration 
 of the Craft Plays was a civic event: in 
 their heyday the supreme social, aesthetic and 
 theatrical amusement of our ancestors. And 
 none the less so because they were origin- 
 ally devotional in character and intention. 
 
 It must not be supposed, however, that 
 after the industrial crafts had taken them up, 
 these miracles ceased to be cultivated by 
 the clerical and semi-clerical orders, or to be 
 acted in ecclesiastical precincts. The gild 
 of which we first are informed that its func- 
 tions were to cultivate processional and 
 artistic as well as devotional and philan- 
 thropic ends was semi-clerical rather than 
 secular. It is that of the Parish Clerks of 
 London, incorporated by Henry III. about 
 1240. Of these clerks Hone, in his Ancient 
 Mysteries, says that they were under the 
 patronage of St. Nicholas, and that it was an 
 essential part of their profession, not only to 
 sing, but to read, an accomplishment almost 
 
 [ viii ] 
 
solely confined to the clergy, so that, on 
 the whole, they seem to come under the 
 denomination of a semi-religious frater- 
 nity. " It was anciently customary," Hone 
 tells us, " for men and women of the first 
 quality, ecclesiastics and others who were 
 lovers of church music, to be admitted into 
 this corporation, and they gave large gratui- 
 ties for the support and education of many 
 persons in the practice of that science. 
 Their public feasts were frequent, and cele- 
 brated with song and music." According 
 to W^arton, their profession, employment 
 and character naturally dictated to this spir- 
 itual brotherhood the representation of plays, 
 especially those of the spiritual kind. W^e 
 do not know how early this semi-religious 
 gild took to acting, but it is certain that in 
 1391 they had been playing cyclic miracles 
 at Skinner's Well (Clerkenwell) for many 
 years, since they enjoyed, at that time and 
 place, the presence of the king, queen and 
 nobles of the realm during a performance 
 which was of great eclat and lasted for 
 three days. In 1409, the Clerkenwell plays 
 were still so popular that *' most part of the 
 nobility and gentry of England" attended 
 during a dramatic cycle which lasted eight 
 
 [ix] 
 
days. It is noteworthy that Stow, the histo- 
 rian, calls these interludes at Skinner's W^ell 
 of 1391 an "example of later time," inform- 
 ing us that " of old time " the Parish Clerks 
 of London were accustomed yearly to as- 
 semble at Clerks' Well, near by, " and to 
 play some large history of Holy Scripture." 
 Since Clerkenwell is mentioned by Fitz- 
 stephen in his description of London as a 
 place frequented by scholars and youth, I 
 think it practically certain that the sacred 
 plays of which he elsewhere speaks as acted 
 in London, between 1170 and 1182, were 
 played then by similar Parish Clerks and 
 at this same place. 
 
 When, after the reinstitution of the festival 
 of Corpus Christi in 13 11, the miracle plays 
 began to be a function of the gilds, their 
 secularisation, even though the clerks still 
 participated in the acting, was but a ques- 
 tion of time; and the injection of crude 
 comedy was a natural response to the civic 
 demand. Indeed if we consider Comedy in 
 its higher meaning as the play of the indi- 
 vidual achieving his ends, not by revolt but 
 by adjustment to circumstance and conven- 
 tion, the miracle play was in its essence a 
 preparation for comedy rather than tragedy. 
 
 [X] 
 
For the theme of these dramas is, in a word, 
 Christian : the career of the individual as an 
 integral part of the social organism, of the 
 religious whole. So also, their aim : the 
 welfare of the social individual. They do 
 not exist for the purpose of portraying im- 
 moderate self-assertion and the vengeance 
 that rides after, but the beauty of holiness 
 or the comfort of contrition. Herod, Judas 
 and Antichrist are foils, not heroes. The 
 hero of the miracle seals his salvation by 
 accepting the spiritual ideal of the com- 
 munity. These plays contribute in a posi- 
 tive manner to the maintenance of the social 
 organism. The tragedies of life and litera- 
 ture, on the other hand, proceed from secular 
 histories, histories of personages liable to 
 disaster because of excessive peculiarity, — 
 of person or position. Tragedy is the drama 
 of Cain, of the individual in opposition to 
 the social, political, divine ; its occasion is 
 an upheaval of the social organism. The 
 dramatic tone of the miracle cycle is, there- 
 fore, determined by the conservative char- 
 acter of Christianity in general ; the nature 
 of the several plays is, however, modified by 
 the relation of each to one or other of the 
 supreme crises in the biblical history of 
 
 [xi] 
 
God's ways toward man. The plays lead- 
 ing up to, and revolving about, the Nativity 
 are of happy ending, and were doubtless 
 regarded, by authors and spectators, as we 
 regard comedy. The murder of Abel, at first 
 sombre, gradually passes into the comedy of 
 the grotesque. The massacre of the inno- 
 cents emphasises not the weeping of a 
 Rachel, but the joyous escape of the Virgin 
 and the Child. In all such stories the horri- 
 ble is kept in the background or used by way 
 of suspense before the happy outcome, or 
 frequently as material for mirth. Upon the 
 sweet and joyous character of the pageants 
 of Joseph and Mary and the Child it is 
 unnecessary to dwell. Those incorporated 
 in the revival of the ancient drama presented 
 in this volume witness to the quality of the 
 rest. They are of the very essence of 
 comedy. Indeed it must be said that in the 
 old cycles the plays surrounding the Cruci- 
 fixion are not tragedy ; they are specimens 
 of the serious drama, of tragedy averted. 
 The drama of the cross is a triumph. In no 
 cycle does the conswynmatum est close 
 the pageant of the Crucifixion ; the actors 
 announce, and the spectators believe, that 
 this is " Goddis Sone," whom within three 
 
 [xii] 
 
days they shall again behold, though he 
 has been " nayled on a tree unworthilye to 
 die." 
 
 But though the dramatic edifice con- 
 structed by our mediaeval forbears is Com- 
 edy, it is also divine. And not for a moment 
 did these builders lose their reverence for the 
 House Spiritual that was sacred, nor once 
 forget that the stones which they ignorantly 
 and often mirthfully swung into strange jux- 
 taposition were themselves hewn by Other 
 Hands. The comic scenes of the English 
 Miracle should, therefore, be regarded not as 
 interruptions to the sacred drama, nor as 
 independent episodes, but as counterpoint 
 or dramatic relief. So, in the Second Shep- 
 herds' Play, which affords the comic strand 
 of the present rehabilitation of the miracles, 
 one cannot but remark the propriety of the 
 charm, as well as the dramatic effect, with 
 which the foreground of the sheep-stealing 
 dissolves into the radiant picture of the Na- 
 tivity. The pastoral atmosphere is already 
 shot with a prophetic gleam ; the fulfilment 
 is, therefore, no shock or contrast, but a 
 transfiguration — an epiphany. It is, more- 
 over, to be remembered that such characters 
 and episodes as are comically treated are 
 
 [ xiii ] 
 
of secular derivation, or, if scriptural, of no 
 sacred significance. Thus the comic and the 
 realistic in the poet were set free ; and it is 
 just when he is embroidering the material of 
 mystery with the stammel-red or russet of 
 his homespun that he is of most interest to 
 us. As soon as the plays have passed into 
 the hands of the gilds, the playwright puts 
 himself most readily into sympathy with the 
 literary consciousness as well as the untutored 
 aesthetic taste of his public when he colours 
 the spectacle, old or new, with what is pre- 
 eminently popular and distinctively national. 
 In the minster and out of it, all through the 
 Christian year, the townsfolk of York or 
 Chester had as much of ritual, of scriptural 
 narrative and tragic mystery as they desired, 
 and probably more. When the pageants 
 were acted, they listened with simple cre- 
 dulity, no doubt, to the sacred history, and 
 with a reverence that our age of illumina- 
 tion can neither emulate nor understand ; 
 but we may be sure that they awaited with 
 keenest expectation those invented episodes 
 where tradition conformed itself to familiar 
 life, — the impromptu sallies, the cloth-yard 
 shafts of civic and domestic satire sped by 
 well-known wags of town or gild. Of the 
 
 [ xiv] 
 
appropriateness of these insertions the spec- 
 tators made no question, and the dramatists 
 themselves do not seem to have thought it 
 necessary to apologise for their aesthetic 
 creed or practice. 
 
 I wish to call especial attention to the 
 author of the play mentioned above as 
 forming the basis of the present dramatic 
 composition. It is a strange thing that to 
 the present day nobody has called him the 
 Father of English Comedy; and still, that he 
 undoubtedly is. In addition to the Secunda 
 Pastorum (or Second Shepherds' Play) 
 he wrote other pageants of the so-called 
 Towneley Cycle amounting to about one- 
 quarter of the whole ; probably six plays, 
 and parts of six or eight more — some four 
 thousand lines. The realistic and humor- 
 ous qualities of his style were unique and 
 singularly suitable to the development of a 
 national comedy. Both for ease of versi- 
 fication and for sense of dramatic effect, he 
 is not unworthy to be mentioned in the same 
 breath with his more distinguished contem- 
 porary Chaucer. To the dramatic composi- 
 tion of his day he, indeed, holds the same 
 relation as that sustained by Chaucer toward 
 the metrical romance. He should be read 
 
 [XV] 
 
in every college and known by every gentle- 
 man to-day. The best of his plays are 
 of course the Noe and the Secunda Pas- 
 torum ; the latter a product of dramatic 
 genius. It stands out English and alone, 
 with its homely wisdom and indigenous 
 figures, — Mak and Gyll and the shepherds, 
 — its comic business, its glow, its sometimes 
 subtle irony, its ludicrous colloquies, its draft 
 of rural manners and morals, its naive and 
 wholesome reverence. With these qualities 
 it occupies a place apart from other plays 
 of cycles, foreign or native, and in its 
 dramatic anticipations, postponements and 
 surprises, is our earliest masterpiece of comic 
 drama. A similar dramatic excellence char- 
 acterises all the plays of this anonymous 
 Playwright of W^akefield (for in "Wakefield 
 the cycle called by the name of the Towne- 
 ley family was acted) as well as the inser- 
 tions made by him in other plays. But he 
 is no more remarkable for his dramatic 
 power than for his sensitive observation, his 
 realistic vigour and his satire. These are 
 manifest in his Buffeting and Scourging 
 of Christ, and in his contribution to the Last 
 Judgment. The poet behind the grimness 
 and the satire is ever the same, sound in 
 
 [xvi] 
 
his domestic, social, political philosophy, 
 constant in his sympathy with the poor, and 
 in his godly fear. If by modernising his 
 verse and combining a play of his with 
 others in such manner as to make a drama 
 suitable to the stage of to-day I may have 
 contributed anything to the resuscitation of 
 his work and name, I shall feel that my 
 labour is well paid. His works are pub- 
 lished in England, in Pollard's edition of 
 the Towneley Plays (Early English Text 
 Society) ; and a further discussion of them 
 may be found in the present writer's His- 
 torical View of Early English Comedy 
 (Representative English Comedies), upon 
 which this account is based. 
 
 As to The Star of Bethlehem, it attempts 
 to reproduce the material, conditions and at- 
 mosphere of the miracles as far as may be 
 appropriate to modern conditions. It is put 
 together from a number of plays with such 
 callidce jtcncttirce of my own invention as 
 were unavoidable. The " putting together " 
 itself springs from the situation. No one of 
 the old pageants is at the same time of suf- 
 ficient proportions and sufficient unity to 
 hold a modern audience for an afternoon or 
 evening. When Mr. Greet asked me to pre- 
 
 [ xvii ] 
 
pare for him something from the miracle 
 plays, I found it necessary to amalgamate 
 several plays of common focus. Hence, in 
 The Star, the Towneley Offering of the 
 Magi plays almost as important a part 
 as the Secunda Pastorum. I have inter- 
 twined these two, and, for dramatic effect, I 
 have taken the liberty of conveying Kings and 
 Shepherds to the manger at the same time. 
 W^ith these strands I have woven pas- 
 sages from the Towneley Annunciation 
 and Lxizarus, from the York Angels and 
 Shepherds and the Coming of the Three 
 Kings, from the Coventry Corpus Christi 
 Salutation and Conception, Birth of 
 Christ, Adoration of the Shepherds, and 
 Adoration of the Magi, from the Chester 
 Processus Prophetarum and Antichrist, 
 and the Coventry Gild Pageant of the 
 Shearmen and Taylors. I have also made 
 use of the legend of the Three Kings of 
 Cologne, and of other sources which I have 
 not taken pains to record. In their original 
 form, the songs are of the twelfth to the 
 fifteenth centuries and are such as might 
 well have been inserted by improvising 
 craft-players. Like the text of the dramatic 
 materials of The Star, they have been al- 
 
 [ xviii ] 
 
tered only so far as was necessary to make 
 them intelligible to the ordinary auditor. 
 All through I have changed words, lines 
 and sequence ; but only when I could not 
 help it. The materials of course I have 
 arranged with a free hand, and occasion- 
 ally I have had the temerity to put my own 
 words into the mouths of men and angels. 
 But I hope that the spirit of the whole is 
 mediaeval, and the figures and the frame- 
 work and the atmosphere. The great public 
 cannot reach the originals; may it not, 
 however, enjoy even in a reproduction the 
 dramatic art which delighted our forefathers 
 for full five hundred years, and learn some- 
 thing of the simplicity and sublimity of 
 their ancient view of the Mystery that still 
 is modern ? 
 
 I cannot close without expressing my 
 gratitude to Mr. Ben Greet for many a 
 suggestion in the preparation of this play. 
 I should certainly not have meddled with 
 so sacred a subject had I not been confident 
 that the presentation of the miracle would 
 be wisely entrusted to his exquisite taste and 
 masterly technique. 
 
 CHARLES MILLS GAYLEY. 
 
 [xix] 
 
Bramatts ^ersionae 
 
 The Angel (ffiaiiriCl 
 
 CoU, the First Shepherd 
 ®rS^, the Second Shepherd 
 Jiato, the Third Shepherd 
 SHafe, a. Sheep-Thief 
 ^gU, his 'Wife 
 
 TJCunCittS, or Messenger of 
 Herod 
 
 Counsellors of Herod 
 Retinue of the Magi 
 
 First Magus, Jasper, 
 
 King of Tars 
 Second Magus, JWelCljior 
 
 King of Araby 
 Third Magus, i5altJ)afai:, 
 
 King of Saba 
 
 The tJirflin |Warg 
 Sosepi) 
 
 ^nctUa^ or Maidser<vant of 
 the Virgin 
 
 Evil Spirits 
 Chorus of Angels 
 
 PROCESSUS I. ^i)f Si)Cpi)erTlS. The Fields 
 near Bethlehem, and a Peasant's Hut 
 
 PROCESSUS II. Wf\t ilWaflt. Herod's Palace 
 and the Neighbourhood 
 
 PROCESSES III. IWafe anTi (SffiU. a Peasants 
 Hut near Bethlehem 
 
 PROCESSUS IV. rije cStar* The Fields; a 
 Stable in Bethlehem 
 
THE 
 
 STAR OF BETHLEHEM 
 
 processus ^primus — ^cena ^rtma 
 
 The fields near Bethlehem. Night, Angels a.re heard 
 
 singing : 
 
 N 
 
 OWELL, Nowell, Nowell ! 
 This is the Salutation of the angel 
 Gabriel : 
 
 Tidings true there be come new^ 
 
 From the Trinity, 
 By Gabriel to Nazareth, 
 
 City of Galilee. 
 
 A clean maiden and pure Virgin 
 
 Through her humility 
 Hath conceived the Persdn 
 
 Second in Deity. 
 
 [I] 
 
Loquitur (iKafiricL 
 
 Christ conserve this congregation 
 
 From perils past, present, and future, 
 And the persons here playing, that the pronun- 
 ciation 
 
 Of their sentence to be said may be sad and sure ! 
 And that no oblocution make this matter obscure. 
 
 But it may profit and please each person present. 
 From the beginning to the ending so to endure, 
 
 That Christ and every creature with this conceit 
 be content. 
 
 The matter made is of the birth of a Child 
 
 That shall get us more grace than ever men had, — 
 His mother a Maiden, nothing defiled. 
 
 She is deputed to bear the Son, Almighty God. 
 Lo, sovereigns, now may you be glad, 
 
 For of this Maiden all we may be fain ; 
 For Adam that now lies in sorrows full sad. 
 
 His glorious birth shall redeem him again. 
 
 Listeneth, lordings, both high and lo^v: 
 
 As it is said in prophecy — 
 Not to Earth's Lords alone shall He go 
 
 But to the poor and of low degree ; 
 
 So shall ye foremost hear and see 
 These simple shepherds of this ground, 
 
 To whom glad tidings presently 
 Of God's great blessing shall abound. 
 
 Therefore of peace I pray you all that be here 
 present. 
 And take heed to our talking what we shall say, 
 
 [2] 
 
For I am Gabriel, the messenger of God omni- 
 potent, 
 Who governs you in goodness, as he best may. 
 In heaven may ye all him see ! 
 Now God that is heaven king. 
 Send us all his dear blessing. 
 And to his tower may he us bring. — 
 Amen, for charity ! 
 
 A splendour in the sky. Three Shepherds enter. Sheep- 
 bells in the distance, A strain of the Gloria in 
 Excelsis, 
 
 (SrAtltieL Joy to God that sits in Heaven, 
 
 And peace to man on earthds ground ! 
 
 First Shepherd, (jJoU. {Not understanding, but be- 
 holding the -vision of splendour,) Whe ! hudde ! ^ 
 Second Shepherd, ^£t}« Whe! how^e?^ 
 <2!toU* Hearken to me ! 
 
 (SJrSt. Whe! man, thou art mad all out of might. 
 ^OlU Whe! golly! {He gazes upward and beats 
 his hands for the cold,) 
 Third Shepherd, HatD) their servant, W^hat care 
 
 is come to thee ? 
 
 Coll. Step forth and stand by me right, 
 And tell me then 
 
 If thou saw ever such a sight ! [pointing to the -vision, 
 HatO. I ? nay, certes, nor never no man,. 
 (iSf2^» {Who has not yet seen anything, but beats his 
 hands for the cold and stares in the lorong direction,) 
 
 Say, fellows, what ! Find ye any feast ? 
 
 It falls to me to have part, pardd.' 
 
 1 Whew ! how I 2 What now ? 3 par Dieu I 
 
 [3] 
 
iiltolL "Whe ! hudde ! behold into the east ! 
 A sudden sight then shall thou see 
 Upon the sky ! 
 CJfS^* {Still at a loss.) Whe ! tell me men, among 
 us three, 
 What gars^ you stare thus suddenly? 
 lIBaUl* As long as we have herdsmen been, 
 And kept this cattle in this clough,^ 
 So shining sight was never none seen. 
 (JItOll* ^A^he ! no golly ! now comes it new 
 enough. 
 
 As we maun ^ find : {Beating his 
 hands, and bloiuing upon his fingers,) 
 It means some marvel us among. 
 
 Full sure I am in mind. 
 IBatD. Such sight was never seen 
 Before in our Jewry ; 
 Some marvels will it mean 
 
 That maun be here on high. 
 
 The angels sing the Gloria in Excetsis* 
 JBaUl. Hark ! they sing above in the cloudes 
 here : 
 Heard I never a choir so clear ! 
 Now, gentle brothers, draw we near 
 And hark their harmonie. 
 
 They move in the direction <zvhence the heavenly strains 
 proceeded, 
 (S-OU, Brother, mirth and solace will come us 
 among 
 Like Spring is the sound they bear along. 
 ^£))« Yea, Spring is the burden of my song: 
 Now brothers, hearkeneth me. 
 
 ' makes ^ valley ' must 
 
 [4] 
 
He sings* 
 
 Oh Lent is come with Love to town * 
 With blossoms and with birdds rune * 
 
 That all this bliss^ bringeth, 
 And dayds-eyds in the dales, 
 Notds sweet of nightingales : 
 
 Each fowl his song he singeth. 
 
 The throstle ^ chideth them for aye : 
 Their Tvinter-woe is fled aTvay 
 
 When erst the ^voodruf f * springeth ; 
 These fowlds singeth wonder deal 
 And whistleth of their winter-weal, 
 
 That all the woodd ringeth. 
 
 The rose arrayeth her in red, 
 
 The leavds, to the springtime spread. 
 
 They waxen all with wille ; 
 The moon outshineth blithe of blee. 
 The lily is lovesome to see, 
 
 The fennel and the fille.^ 
 
 As Gyb concludes the song^ he moves off Tvith Da<vj to 
 gi-ve his sheep a turn, 
 CoU. Lord what these weathers are cold ! And 
 I am ill happed ; 
 I am near-hand ® dold ^ so long have I napped ; 
 My legs they fold, my fingers are chapped, 
 It is not as I wold for I am all lapped 
 
 In sorrow, 
 In storms and tempest, 
 
 ' to town or in tune ^ thrush s vvild thyme 
 
 '■' whispered song * wood-rowel, yellow asphodel » almost 
 
 ^ dulled, numbed 
 
 [5] 
 
Now in the east, now in the west. 
 Woe is him never has rest 
 
 Mid-day nor morrow ! 
 But ^ve sely^ shepherds that walks on the moor, 
 In faith we are near-hands out of the door ; 
 No wonder, as it stands, if we be poor. 
 For the tilth - of our lands lies fallow ^ as the floor, 
 
 As ye ken. 
 We are so distressed, 
 Overtaxed and oppressed : 
 We are tamed to th'e hest 
 
 Of these gentlery men. 
 
 Thus they be-reave us of rest, may Our Lady them 
 
 harry ! 
 These men that are lord-fest * they cause the plough 
 
 tarry. 
 That men say is for the best, we find it contrary ; 
 Thus are husbands oppressed in point to miscarry 
 
 In life. 
 Thus hold they us under. 
 Thus bring us in blunder ; 
 It were great v^onder 
 
 If ever we should thrive. 
 
 For may one get a paint ^ sleeve or a broach now- 
 
 a-days, 
 Woe is him that him grieve or once only gainsays ! 
 None dare him repreave,® what mastery he mays. 
 And yet none may believe one word that he says. 
 No letter. 
 
 * simple, happy ^ unseeded, neglected S embroidered 
 
 ^ ploughed soil * backed by lords « reprove 
 
 [6] 
 
He can make purveyance/ 
 ■With boast and bragg^nce, 
 And all through maintenance 
 Of men that are greater. 
 
 There shall come a swain like a peacock for show, 
 He will borrow my wain,^ my plough also ; 
 And I am full fain to grant ere he go : — 
 Thus live we in pain, anger, and woe, 
 
 By night and day. 
 He must have what he langed ® 
 Tho' I should forgang^ it; 
 I were better be hanged 
 
 Than once say him nay. 
 
 It does me good, as I walk thus by mine own. 
 Of this w^orld for to talk in manner of moan. 
 To my sheep will I stalk and hearken anon ; 
 And abide on a log or sit on a stone 
 
 Full soon. 
 For I trow, pardd. 
 True men if they be. 
 We get more company 
 
 Ere it be noon. 
 
 ®fSil» (^eiurning and unanvare of CoIL) Benste and 
 Dominus ! ^ what may this mean ? 
 Why fares this world thus ? Oft have we not seen ! 
 Lord, these weathers are spitous and the winter 's 
 
 full keen ; 
 And the frosts are so hideous they water mine 
 een, — 
 No lie ! 
 
 ' He can impress or distrain property * wagon 3 longed for 
 
 * forego 5 Pastoral Latin for the clerical invocation, Benedicite Dominus. 
 
 [7] 
 
Now in dry, now in weet, 
 Now in snow, no^v in sleet ; 
 When my shoes freeze to my feet, 
 It is not all easy. 
 
 But as far as I ken, ere now as I go, 
 
 We sely wed-men dree mickle woe ; ^ 
 
 We have sorrow then and then, it falls oft so. 
 
 Poor Capel, our hen, both to and fro 
 
 She cackles ; 
 But begin she to croak, 
 To groan or to clock. 
 Woe is him of our cock, — 
 
 Then he walks in the shackles. [Col! tries 
 here and etseivhere to interrupt. 
 
 These men that are wed have not all their will ; 
 When they are sore bestead, they sigh full still ; 
 God wot they are led full hard and full ill : 
 In bower nor in bed they say nought there-till.'* 
 
 This tide. 
 My part have / found. 
 I know my lessoun : 
 " W^oe is him that is bound, 
 
 For he must abide." 
 
 But now late in our lives — a marvel to me. 
 That I think my heart rives such wonders to see ; 
 W^hat that destiny drives, it should so be ! — 
 Some men will have t^vo wives, and some men 
 three. 
 In store ; 
 Some are w^oe that has any ; 
 
 ' We poor husbands suffer much woe. ^ there-to ; in reply 
 
 [8] 
 
But so far as ken I, 
 Woe is him that has many, 
 For he suffers sore. 
 
 Now, young men a-wooing, for God that you bought, 
 Be well ware of wedding ; and think in your 
 
 thought, — 
 " Had I wist " Ms a thing that will serve of nought. 
 Mickle still mourning has wedding home brought^ 
 
 And griefs, 
 With many a sharp shower ; 
 For thou may catch in an hour 
 That shall serve thee full sour 
 
 As long as thou lives. 
 
 For, as e'er I read epistle I 've a shrew to my fere,^ 
 
 As sharp as a thistle, as rough as a brere * ; 
 
 She is browed like a bristle, with a sour-looking 
 
 cheer ; 
 But once wet her whistle, and she'll sing you full 
 clear 
 
 Her Paternoster* 
 She 's as great as a whale ; 
 She has a gallon of gall ; 
 By Him that died for us all, 
 
 I would I had run till I 'd lost her. 
 
 ^OU. {Succeeding at last in his attempt to interrupt,) 
 God look over the raw ! ^ Full deafly ye stand. 
 
 Q5f^^* Yea, the devil in thy maw, so tarriand ! 
 Saw thou aught of Daw? 
 
 (B^OU. Yea, on a lea-land® 
 
 I "If! had only known ! " 2 Much silent sorrow walks in with a wife! 
 
 3 running mate * briar s God help us ! « fallow field 
 
 [9] 
 
Heard I him blaw,^ he comes here at hand, 
 
 Not far ; — 
 Stand still ! 
 <Kgtl. Why? 
 
 itOlL For he comes, hope I. 
 ^^t). He ^vill make us both a lie 
 Unless we be^vare. 
 
 They step to one side, as Daiv enters, 
 HBQ'O}, Christ's cross me speed ^ and Saint 
 Nicholas ! 
 Thereof had I need, it is worse than it was. 
 Whoso can, let him heed and let the world pass : 
 It is ever in dread and brickie as glass, 
 
 And it slides by. 
 This world fared never so. 
 With marvels more and mo', 
 Now in weal, no\v in woe. 
 
 But mostly awry. [Percei'ving the shepherds. 
 
 Ah, sir, God you save, and master mine ! 
 A drink fain would I have and somewhat to dine. 
 ColL Christ's curse, my knave, thou art a lazy 
 
 hind ! 
 (Sr^t* W^hat ! the boy must rave ! Let him abide 
 for a time, 
 Till we 've made it. 
 Ill thrift on thy pate ! 
 Though the shrew came late, 
 Yet is he in state 
 
 To dine, if he had it. 
 
 ll9atD* Such servants as I, that sweats and swinks,^ 
 Eats our bread full dry, and that 's ill, methinks ; 
 
 ^ blow ^ help me ! ^ works 
 
 [lo] 
 
We 're oft wet and weary when our master-men 
 
 winks ; 
 Yet come full tardily our dinners and drinks. 
 
 But sprightly 
 Both our dame and our sire, 
 When we have run in the mire, 
 They can snip off our hire, 
 
 And pay us full lightly. 
 
 But hear my troth, master ! For the bargain ye 
 
 make, 
 My work shall hereafter be like what I take ; 
 I shall do but little, sir, and ye maun ever lack ^ ; 
 For never lay my supper yet heavy on my stomach 
 
 In the fields. 
 Why argument keep ? 
 ^Vith my staff I can leap, 
 And men say " Bargain cheap 
 
 Light bargain yields." 
 
 QtOlh Thou wert an ill lad to ride a-w^ooing 
 W^ith a man that had but little for spending. 
 mSrSi^* Peace, boy, I bad ; no more jangling. 
 Or I shall make thee full sad, by the heavens' king. 
 
 With thy gaudes^! 
 W^here are our sheep, boy ? Are they lorn ^ ? 
 
 HatQ. Sir, this same day at morn 
 Left I them in the corn, 
 
 W^hen the bells rang laudds.^ 
 
 They have pasture good, they cannot go wrong. 
 fi:oU« That is right. By the Rood, these nights 
 are long ! 
 Ere we went yet I would, one gave us a song. 
 
 ^ you may go without ^ lost 
 
 2 nonsense * morning service of praise 
 
 ["] 
 
^^f). So thought I as I stood, to mirth us among. 
 
 Bato- I grant. 
 (iiron. Let me sing the tenory. 
 (HSrS'^, And I the treble so high. 
 21aU)« Then the mean shall sing I. 
 
 Let's see how ye chant. 
 
 They begin to sing in unison* 
 
 Summer is i-comen in 
 
 Loudd sing, Cuckoo! 
 Groweth seed and bloweth mead 
 
 And spring'th the wood anew ; 
 Sing, Cuckoo! 
 
 Here enter Mak, muffled in a cloak 'with lohich he con- 
 ceals his peasant attire. Making as if una<ware of 
 the shepherds, he speaks as beloiv. The shepherds 
 meanivhile sing softly: 
 
 Ewd bleateth after lamb, 
 
 Loweth after calf the cow ; 
 Bullock starteth, young buck parteth 
 
 For the green fern now. 
 Cuckoo, Cuckoo! 
 
 Well singest thou, Cuckoo, 
 
 Nor cease thou never now. 
 
 J^ai&» Now, Lord for thy nam^s seven, that made 
 both moon and starnes 
 
 Well more than I can neven^; thy Will me over- 
 turns. 
 
 Till I am all uneven ; that muddles my concerns. 
 
 1 name 
 [12] 
 
Now would God I were in heaven, for there weep 
 no more bairns — 
 So, still! 
 ^OU* Who is that pipes so poor? 
 ifWafe* {Addressing the audience,) 
 Would God ye ^vist how^ I fare ! 
 Lo, a man that walks on the moor 
 And has not all his will ! 
 
 ^2^1. {Shouting,) Mak, where has thou gone ? 
 
 Tell us tiding. 
 Hal])* {Aside,) Is he come? Then each one take 
 heed to his thing. [He snatches the cloak from 
 Mak, 
 5^A^* {Affecting the southern and fashionable mode of 
 speech,) 
 What ! I am a yeoman, I tell you, of the king ; 
 The self and the same, sent from a great lording, 
 
 And such. 
 Fie on you ! Go ye hence 
 Out of my presence ! 
 I must have reverence. 
 
 Not your vile touch. 
 
 dtsUl, ^A^hy make ye it so quaint,^ Mak ? Ye do 
 
 wrong. 
 ^£t)« But, Mak, hark, ye saint ! I trow what ye 
 long.^ 
 I, I trow the shrew can paint,' the devil may 
 
 him hang ! 
 \, I shall make complaint and make you all 
 to thwang^ 
 
 ' 'Why act so strangely ? ^ The wretch can gloze. 
 
 2 What you 're after. •♦ 1 '11 have you all flogged. 
 
 [13] 
 
At a word, 
 And tell even hov/ ye doeth. 
 
 (J^OlL But, Mak, is that sooth? 
 Now take out that southern tooth,^ 
 
 And cease thou to gird ! 
 
 aSf^t, Mak, the devil in your ee ! A stroke would 
 
 I lend you. 
 ISatD. Mak, know ye not me ? By God, I could 
 
 mend you. 
 ^ZiSi* {Affecting to recognise them, ) 
 God bless you all three ! Methought I had seen 
 
 you, — 
 Ye are a fair company. 
 Coll* Can you now mean you? 
 
 ^^l). Shrew, jape ! * 
 What will men suppose 
 If thus late thou still goes? 
 For the world makes ill noise 
 Of thy stealing of sheep. 
 
 Jttalfe. And I am true as steel, all men wot ! 
 But a sickness I feel that holds me full hot : 
 My belly fares not weel, it is out of estate. 
 2I9alD. " Seldom lies the de'il dead close by the 
 gate." 
 |^a1fe« Therefor 
 If I stand stone still 
 I feel me sore and ill ; 
 I 've not eaten a morsdl 
 
 This month and more. 
 
 Coll. How fares thy wife ? By my hood,' how 
 does she go? 
 
 * affected acceat ^ Rascal, you '11 trick us, will you ? ^ honour 
 
 [14] 
 
j[Hai^. Lies weltering, by the Rood,^ by the fire- 
 side, lo ! 
 And a house full of brood. — She drinks well, too ; 
 111 speed other good that she will do 
 
 But so ! 
 Eats as fast as she can. 
 And ilk^ year that comes to man 
 She brings forth another w^ean, 
 And some years tw^o. 
 
 E'en were I more gracious and richer by far, 
 I were eaten out of house and out of harbar,' 
 Yet is she a foul dowse * if ye come near ; 
 There is none that trow^s^ nor knows a waur,* 
 
 Than I tholeJ 
 Now w^ill ye see what I proffer ? — 
 To give all in my coffer 
 If the morn I might offer 
 
 A mass-penny for her soul. 
 
 ®^gtl, {Ya<Tvmng ,) I wot so over-wakdd is none 
 in this shire : 
 I would sleep if I takdd less for my hire. 
 liatD* I am cold and nakdd and would fain have 
 
 a fire. 
 QttslX* I am weary, for-rakdd,' and run in the 
 mire, — 
 W^ake thou ! [To Gyb, 
 <SrStl« Nay, I will lie down by, 
 For I must sleep truly. 
 
 * Cross 3 harbour ' conceives of 7 endure 
 
 * each * creature ° vi^orse ' walked to death 
 
 [15] 
 
29 dU). {Also preparing to tie doTvn,) As good a man's 
 son -was I 
 As any of you. 
 
 But, Mak, come hither ! between shall thou lie 
 down. 
 ^afe. {Graciously,) Nay, so I might intervene 
 when you whisper or rowne ^ 
 But ne'er dread ! 
 {Aloud, and crossing himself,) From my top to my 
 
 toe, 
 Manas tuas commendo, 
 Poncio Pitato/ 
 
 Christ's cross me speed ! 
 After this night-spell, Mak lies do'wn* When the shep- 
 herds appear to sleep, he rises. 
 Now were time for a man that lacks what he 
 
 wold ^ 
 To stalk privily then to a sheep-fold 
 And nimbly to work then and be not too bold, 
 For he might rue the bargain, if it were told, 
 
 At the ending. 
 Now were time to fulfil ; 
 But he needs good counsel 
 That fain would fare w^ell, 
 
 And has little for spending. 
 
 But about you a circle as round as a moon, 
 Till I have done that I will, till that it be 
 noon, 
 
 1 talk of secrets 
 
 ^ 'While seeming by his mutilated Latin to commend his spirit to divine care, 
 he contrives to commend his companions to the Enemy 
 
 2 would 
 
 [16] 
 
That ye lie stone-still to ^ that I have done ! [He 
 
 draivs the circle* 
 And I shall say theretill ^ of good words more 
 than one 
 On height : [He poses for an incaniation. 
 Over your heads my hand I lift, 
 Out go your een, of your sight be bereft ; — 
 But yet I must make better shift 
 An it be right. [They snore* 
 
 Lord ! what they sleep hard ! that may ye all hear. 
 I was never a shepherd, but now will I lere ^ ; 
 Though the flock be scared, yet shall I nip near. 
 How! {To the sheep*) Draw hitherward ! Now 
 mends our cheer 
 
 From sorrow. [Feeling them* 
 A fat sheep I dare say ! 
 A good fleece dare I lay ! 
 I '11 pay back when I may — 
 
 But this will I borro'w I 
 He selects a Tvether^ carries it to his cottage^ and knocks* 
 
 Skttnu .Secuntfa 
 
 Mak's Cottage 
 
 U {Outside*) How, Gyll, art thou in? Get 
 us some light. 
 (Sr^lL Who makes such a din this time of the 
 night ? 
 I am set for to spin ; I hope not I might 
 
 1 till 2 to that end 3 jeam 
 
 2 [17] 
 
Rise a penny to win. Beshrew them on height 
 
 That so fares ! 
 A housewife that has been 
 To be jostled thus between ! 
 No work gets done, I ween 
 
 With such small w^ares. 
 
 L (Outside,) 
 
 Good wife, open the hatch ! Sees thou not what 
 I bring? 
 ©gU, I may let thee lift the latch. {Mak enters,) 
 
 Ah, come in, my sweeting ! 
 ^^a1^* Yea, thou seems not to reck of my long 
 
 standing. 
 (SrgU* By the naked neck art thou like for to 
 hang. 
 ^alt. Do way! 
 I am ^vo^thy my meat, 
 For in a strait I can get 
 More than they that swink and sweat 
 All the long day. 
 
 Thus it fell to my lot, Gyll, I had such grace. 
 \_Disptays the ivether, 
 CJffilL It were a foul blot to be hanged for the 
 
 case. 
 J^a1&. I have 'scaped, Jelott, oft as tight a place. 
 (HSrSlL " But so long goes the pot to the water," 
 men says, 
 "At last 
 Comes it home broken." 
 
 L W^ell know I the token, 
 
 [18] 
 
But let it ne'er be spoken, — 
 
 Now come and help fast ! [7%ey let the <zueiher 
 d(Hun beim)een them* 
 
 I would he were slain. I list well eat ^ : 
 This twelvemonth was I not so fain of one sheep- 
 meat. 
 ^^IL If they come ere he 's slain and hear the 
 
 sheep bleat — 
 ^al^» Then might I be ta'en ; that were a cold 
 sw^eat ! 
 Go spar* 
 The gate door. 
 
 <8fgU. Yea, Mak, 
 An they come at thy back, — 
 ^aiX* Then might I catch from that whole pack, 
 The devil of the waur.^ 
 
 ^$IL A good fraud have I spied, since thou canst 
 none: 
 Here shall we him hide till they be gone, — 
 In my cradle abide. (She places the sheep in the cradle*) 
 
 Let me alone, 
 And I shall lie beside in the bed, and groan. 
 
 Plafe. Well said; 
 We are now ready dight 
 With a new babe this night. 
 a^'SM* Now well is me, day bright, 
 That ever I was bred ! 
 
 This is a good guise and a far cast ; 
 
 Sure, a woman's advice aye helps at the last ! 
 
 » I 'd like to taste him ^ bar ^ the worst of it 
 
 [19] 
 
I wot never who spys : — ( Thinking she hears some one 
 approach*) again go thou fast! 
 J^aU. An I come not ere they rise, there '11 blaw a 
 cold blast! 
 I will go sleep. 
 He passes from the cottage to the moor ivhere the shepherds 
 
 lie. 
 
 The Moor, as before 
 
 iWafe* {Resuming his place,) Yet sleeps all this 
 company. 
 And I shall go stalk privily, 
 As it had never been I 
 
 That carried their sheep. 
 
 Silence for a fern) moments* 
 QluOll, {Awakening suddenly,) 
 'T^esurrex a mortuis I ^ Have hold of my hand ! 
 Judas carnas dominus / ^ I may not well stand : 
 My foot sleeps, by Jesus ! and a cramp in my band ! 
 I dreamed that we laid us full near England. 
 
 ^fitl* ( Ya<ioning ana stretching himself,) Ah ye ! 
 Lord, but I 've slept weel ! 
 As fresh as an eel, — 
 As light I me feel 
 
 As leaf on a tree. 
 
 HabO. ( Waking ivith alarm and rising,) 
 Benste ^ be herein ! So my body quakes ! 
 My heart 's out of its skin, such a thumping it makes. 
 
 ' More echoes of Church Latin ; all the more amusing because the mention of 
 Judas and the Resurrection a mortuis is slightly ahead of time. 
 ^ God bless all within 
 
 [20] 
 
Who makes all this din? My brose has the blacks! * 
 To the door will I win. Hark fellows, wakes ! 
 
 We were four : 
 See ye aught of Mak now? 
 (^OlL We were up ere thou. 
 dSf^i)* Man, I give God a vow. 
 Yet went he nowhaur.- 
 
 ilBatt)* Methought he was wrapped in a wolf's skin. 
 i^ToU, So are many happed now, chiefly within. 
 IBatO. When we had long napped, I dreamed with a 
 gin 
 A fat sheep he trapped but he made no din. 
 
 <KS<J» Be still, — 
 Thy dream makes thee wood ^ ; 
 'T is but phantom, by the Rood ! 
 ^OlL Now God turn all to good, 
 If it be his will! 
 
 ®fgt>. {Turning to Mak, ivho sleeps 'vigorously*) 
 Rise, Mak, for shame! Thou lies right lang. [Ihey 
 shake him* 
 JWafe, Now Christ's holy Name be us emang! 
 What is this, for Saint Jame? I may not well gang! 
 I trow I be the same. Ah ! my neck has lain wrang, — 
 
 'T is in two ! 
 Mickle thank ! ( To the shepherds ^ho have helped him 
 
 up*) Since yester even. 
 Now, by Saint Streven, 
 I was flayed with a sweven * — 
 A dream that me slew : 
 
 I thought Gyll began to croak and travail full sad, — 
 Nigh first crow of the cock, — of a young lad 
 
 I My porridge is smoking ! ^ nowhere 3 mad * dream 
 
 [21] 
 
For to mend our flocke. Not a whit was I glad : 
 For I Ve tow on my stock ^ more than ever I had. — 
 
 Ah, my head ! — 
 A house full of young weans. 
 The devil knock out their brains ! 
 Woe is him has such banes, 
 
 And thereto little bread! 
 I must go home, by your leave, to Gyll, as I thought. 
 I pray you search my sleeve that I steal nought ; — 
 I am loath you to grieve or from you take aught. 
 
 [Exii MaL 
 HBattJ. Go forth, ill might thou thrive! Now would 
 I we sought 
 This morn, 
 That we had all our store. 
 
 aS^OlL But I will go before ; 
 Let us meet. 
 <ffi2lJ. Where? 
 
 13 a to. At the Crooked Thorn. 
 Exeunt Shepherds, singing : 
 
 As I out rode this enderes ^ night. 
 
 Of three jolly shepherds I saw a sight. 
 
 And all about their fold a splendour bright ; — 
 
 They sange " terli terlow ; 
 
 So merrily the shepherds their pipes can blow." 
 
 [ Refrain of pipes* 
 
 Down from heaven, from heaven so high, 
 
 Of angels there came a companie, 
 
 With mirth and joy and great solemnitye. 
 
 They sange " terli terlow. 
 
 So merrily the shepherds their pipes can blow." 
 
 [Refrain of pipes* 
 
 I Too many tow (heads) already ! ^ last 
 
 [22] 
 
Processus Secuntrus 
 Loquitur <2?at)rtel 
 
 I, Gabriel, soothly did see 
 
 A gate in Goddes house on high ; 
 
 ClosM it was, no man came nigh; 
 
 Then told an angel me: 
 " This gate sheill no man ope, i-wis,^ 
 For God will come and go by this, 
 For himself it reserved is. 
 
 None shall come there but he." 
 
 By this gate, lordings, verament, 
 
 I understand in my intent 
 
 That way the Holy Ghost in went 
 
 When God took flesh and blood 
 In that sweet Mother-maid, Mary. 
 Sh€ was that Gate of gates, truly. 
 For in her he Ught most graciously 
 
 To do all mankind good. 
 
 So hath God chosen sely wights ^ 
 
 And rude like these that watch o' nights 
 
 Their sheep, to see desired sights 
 
 That Princes long to see: 
 For of such lowly clay as these 
 Is heaven's kingdom made, I wis. 
 And God's own Mother who doth please 
 
 Great God, eternally. 
 
 * certaioly 2 simple folk 
 
 [23] 
 
Lordings mine, much more matter 
 Is in this story than you see here ; 
 But the substance, with no more gear, 
 
 Is showed you next befome. 
 Now, as by prophecy, trust you me. 
 Three kings you presently shall see, 
 Come seeking his Nativity — 
 
 The Christ that shall be bom. 
 
 [24] 
 
Near Hero<fs Palace* As Gabriel disappears, all is Dark- 
 nesSf save a Star in the East* 
 
 Enter First King, riding, his eyes upon the Star, He is 
 black and of great stature. Attendants, 
 First King, ^aspct- Lord, of whom this light is lent, 
 And unto me this sight has sent, 
 I pray to thee, with good intent, 
 
 From shame me shield; 
 So that I no harmes hent ^ 
 By feU or field. 
 
 Also I pray thee specially, 
 Thou grant me grace of company 
 That I may have some solace by. 
 
 In my travail ^ : 
 And, certes, for to live or die 
 
 I shall not fail. 
 
 Till that I in some land have been. 
 To wit what this Starne may mean. 
 That has me led, with beames sheen. 
 
 Fro my cuntre; 
 Now wend I will, nor doubt, I ween. 
 
 The sooth ^ to see. 
 
 Enter Second King, Melchior, riding and attended. He 
 is of little stature, 
 IHtlCtior, Ah! Lord, that is withouten end! 
 Whence does this selcouth * light descend, 
 
 ' receive ^ laborious journey 3 truth ■* wondrous 
 
 [25] 
 
That thus so kindly has me ken'd ^ 
 
 Out of my land, 
 And showed me where I may attend, — 
 
 Thus bright shinand ^ ? 
 
 Certes, I saw never none so bright ; 
 
 I shall not rest by day nor night, 
 
 Till I wit whence may come this light. 
 
 And from what place. — 
 He that it sent imto my sight 
 
 Lend me that grace! 
 
 ^aspct* {Accosting the Second King*) 
 Ah, sir, whither are ye away? 
 Tell me, good sir, I you pray. 
 JWelctiOt* Certes, I trow, the sooth to say, 
 None wot but I. — 
 I have followed yon stame, veray. 
 From Araby; 
 
 For I am king of that cuntre 
 And Melchior there men call me. 
 J^aspct* And king, sir, was I wont to be, 
 
 In Tars, at hame,^ 
 Both of town and of city ; 
 
 Jasper is my name; 
 
 Yon Stames light shone to me thither. 
 
 iHelCi)iOr» That lord be loved that sent me hither! 
 For it will straightway guide us whither 
 
 That we shall wend. 
 We owe to love him both together. 
 That it to us wold send. 
 
 • called ^ shining ^ home 
 
 [26] 
 
Enter the Third King^ Batthasar, attended, gazing upon the 
 Star, He ts of middle size, 
 ^dlti)d[£idt« Ah, Lord! in land what may this mean? 
 So selcouth sight was never seen, 
 Such a Stame shinand so sheen. 
 
 Saw I never none; 
 At once it lightens all between, 
 By him alone. 
 
 What it may mean, that know I naught; 
 
 But yond are two, methink, in thought, — \_Approach- 
 
 ing the other Magi, 
 I thank him that them hither has brought 
 
 Thus unto me: — 
 I shall assay if they wot aught 
 
 What it may be. 
 
 Lordings, that are lief ^ and dear, 
 I pray you tell me with good cheer 
 Whither you wend, in this manere, 
 
 And where that you have been ; 
 And of this Stame that shines thus clear, 
 
 What it may mean. 
 
 Jlajy* Sir, I say you certainly, 
 From Tars for yon Stame sought have I. 
 "j^tl. To seek yon light from Araby, 
 
 Sir, have I went. 
 Halt. Now heartily I thank him for-thy,^ 
 That it has sent. 
 
 ^as* Good sir, what cuntre came ye fra? 
 iJalt. This light has led me fro Sabi; 
 
 ' welcome * therefore 
 
 [27] 
 
And Balthasar, my name to say, 
 The sooth to tell. 
 J^0l. And kinges, sir, are we twa. 
 There as we dwell. 
 
 ISalt» Now, sirs, sin' we are 'sembled here, 
 I rede ^ we ride together, in fere,^ 
 Until we wit, in all manure, 
 
 For good or ill, 
 What it may mean, this Stame so clear 
 
 Shinand us till. 
 Here enters a messenger from Herod, conceals himself, and 
 
 listens* 
 
 ]Salt» {Continuing*') Certes, sirs, the sooth to say, 
 I shall descry now, if I may. 
 What it may mean, yon Stame, veray, 
 
 Shinand till us; 
 It has been said since many a day 
 
 It should be thus. 
 
 Yon Stame betokens, well wot I, 
 The birth of a prince, sirs, securely. 
 That showes well the prophecy 
 
 That it so be ; 
 Or else the rules of astronomy 
 
 Deceives me. 
 
 JfaS» Certain, Balaam speakes of this thing: 
 That of Jacob a Stame shall spring 
 That shall overcome kaiser and king, 
 
 Withouten strife; 
 All folk shall be to him obeying 
 That bears the life. 
 
 I counsel 2 company 
 
 [28] 
 
Now wot I well this is the same, 
 In every place he shall have hame, 
 All shall him bow that bears a name, 
 
 In ilk cuntre; 
 Who trows it not, they are to blame. 
 
 What so they be. 
 
 Certes, lordings, full well wot I, 
 Fulfilled is now the prophecy: 
 That Prince that shall overcome on high 
 
 Kaiser and king, 
 This Stame beareth witness, utterly. 
 Of his bearing. 
 
 They approach each other* 
 
 l^^Xt* Now is fulfilled here in this land 
 That Balaam said, I understand: 
 Now is he bom that sea and sand 
 
 Shall wield at will, — 
 That shows this Stame, so bright shinand. 
 
 Us three untill. 
 
 Jlas. Lordings, I rede ^ we wend all three 
 For to worship that Child so free. 
 In token that he king shall be 
 
 Of all-kyn ^ thing ; 
 This gold now will I bear with me. 
 To mine offering. 
 
 He displays the gold* 
 
 JWtl* Go we fast, sirs, I you pray, 
 To worship him if that we may ; 
 I bring incense, the sooth to say. 
 
 Here in mine hand, [^Displays it* 
 
 * advise 2 every kind of 
 
 [29] 
 
In token that he is God veray,^ 
 Withouten end. 
 
 ISailt. Sirs, as ye say right so I rede; 
 Haste we straight unto that stead 
 To worship him, as for our Head, 
 
 With our offering; 
 In token that he shall be dead, 
 
 This myrrh I bring, [Displays H* 
 Herod^s Messenger steals aFivay* 
 
 JJaS. Where is that King of Jewes' land, 
 That shall be Lord of sea and sand. 
 And folk shall bow unto his hand 
 
 Both more and less? 
 To worship him with our offerand ^ 
 
 We will not cease. 
 
 J^0l. We shall not rest, even nor mom. 
 Unto we come there he is bom. 
 33alt. Follow this Light, else we be lom,^ 
 Forsooth, I trow. 
 That Prince until we come bef ome ; 
 
 Sirs, go we now. 
 The kings depart, riding, and singing. The Christus 
 Natus is heard from afar. 
 
 «Scena Secuntra 
 
 Herod's Palace, Herod, impatient. His Nuncias, or Mes- 
 senger, enters in haste, 
 
 INTunClUS. Mohammed, that is of great pausty,* 
 My lord. Sir Herod, thee save and see! 
 
 ' the true God ^ ofTenng 3 lost * potesty, power 
 
 [30] 
 
f^tVOti* {Raging,) Where hast thou been so long 
 fro me, 
 
 Vile stinkand lad? 
 ^ttlTf ♦ Lord, gone your errand in this cuntre. 
 
 As ye me bade. 
 
 ^tV, Thou liest, lurdan/ the devil thee hang! 
 Why hast thou dwelt away so lang ? - 
 TSTunC. Lord, ye chide me all with wrang.^ 
 
 Jl^tt, What tidings? Say! 
 ISTunC. Some good, some ill, mingled emang.^ 
 
 JkitV, How? I thee pray. 
 
 Do tell me fast how thou hast fame ; 
 Thy recompense thus shalt thou earn. 
 tlSTunC. As I came walkand,^ I you warn, 
 
 Lord, by the way 
 I met three kings seekand ^ a bairn, 
 
 Thus can they say. 
 
 IS^tX* To seek a bairn! and for what thing? 
 Told they any new tiding? 
 TJCUtl* Yea, lord! They said he should be king 
 Of town and tower; 
 For-thy * they went, with their offering, 
 Him to honour. 
 
 "^tV* King! the devil! but of what empire? 
 Of what land shall that lad be sire? 
 I *11 do that traitor with vengeance dire ; 
 Sore shall he rue! 
 !^^^ttit♦ Lord, by a stame as bright as fire 
 This king they knew; 
 
 ' lout ^ long, wrong, among 3 wralking, seeking * therefore 
 
 [31] 
 
It led them out of their cuntre. 
 
 I^Ct* Wae, fie ! fie ! devils on them all three ! 
 He shall never have might o'er me, 
 
 That new bom lad ; 
 If their wit in a stame should be, 
 
 I hold them mad. 
 
 But first yet will I send and see 
 The answer of those lurdans three. 
 
 [He beckons to Nuncius^ <who has retired quaking* 
 Messengere, straight hie thou thee. 
 
 And make thee yare ^ ; 
 Go, bid those kings come speak with me, 
 
 That thou toldst of ere. 
 
 Say I have great errand them till. 
 
 ^NTttlt. It shall be done, lord, at your will. 
 Your bidding shall I soon fulfill 
 In ilk cuntre. 
 ^tX* Mahowne thee shield from all-kyns ill. 
 For his poteste.^ [The Messenger departs* 
 
 King? What the devil, " other than I " ! 
 Wae, fie on devils! fie, fie! 
 Certes, that boy shall dear aby ! 
 
 His death is dight ! [He mounts his throne* 
 Shall he be king thus hastily? 
 
 Who, the devil, made him knight? 
 He beckons to his counsellors, and is about to enter into dis- 
 cussion, 'Tvhen the Messenger returns, conducting the 
 three Kings, 
 TSTun. {Prostrating himself,) 
 Mahowne ^ look on you, lord so dear. 
 
 ' ready ^ May my God, Mohammed, preserve thee from all evil ! 
 
 3 The blessings of God, Mohammed, on you ! 
 
 [32] 
 
fBftt* Welcome be thou Messengere! 
 How hast thou fared sin' thou wast here? 
 Come, forth with it. 
 ISTun. Lord, I have travelled far and near 
 Withouten let/ 
 
 And done your errand, sir, soothly; 
 Three kinges with me brought have I ; 
 From Saba, Tars, and Araby, 
 
 Here have they sought. 
 fl^tV* Thy recompense shall thou have for-thy, 
 
 By Him me bought; 
 
 And, certainly, that is good skill. 
 And sirs, ye are welcome me until. 
 15 alt Lord, thy bidding to fulfill 
 
 We bend full low. [ The three Kings approach 
 and make their salutation, 
 Jk^tX* Ah, mickle thank of your good will 
 That ye will so. 
 
 For, certes, I have covet greatly 
 
 To speak with you, and hear now why: 
 
 Tell me, I pray you specially, — 
 
 Fore anything, — 
 What tokening saw ye on the sky 
 
 Of this new king? 
 
 Jfas. We saw his Stame rise in the east, 
 That shall be King of man and beast, 
 For-thy,2 lord, we have not ceased. 
 Since that we wist,^ 
 
 ' without hindrance 2 therefore * knew 
 
 3 [33] 
 
With our giftes, rich and honest, 
 To praise him Blist. 
 
 iWfl. Lord, when that stame rose us beforne, 
 Thereby we knew that Child was bom. 
 ?^0t. {Rising.) Out, alas, I am forlorn 
 For ever-mare! 
 I wold be rent and all to-torn 
 For dole and care! 
 
 Alas, alas, I am full woe! 
 
 Sir kings, sit down, and rest you so. [ Turning to his 
 
 counsellors^ doctors of the Mohammedan faith. 
 By scripture, sirs, what say ye two ; 
 
 Withouten let? 
 What ye can say thereto 
 
 Lo, utter it ! 
 
 These kings do me to understand. 
 
 That bom is newly, in this land, 
 
 A king that shall wield sea and sand ; 
 
 They tell me so; 
 And therefor, sirs, I you command 
 Your books go to. 
 
 And look forthwith, for an5rthing, 
 If ye find aught of such a king. 
 iFitSt liOCtOt=<2tOUnseUor. it shall be done at 
 your bidding. 
 By Him me bought ! 
 And soon we shall you tidings bring 
 If we find aught. 
 
 <S(COntf ISOC. Soon shall we wit, lord, if I may, 
 If aught be written in our lay. 
 
 [34] 
 
fj^tv* Now, masters, thereof I you pray 
 
 On all manere. 
 jFCrSt 23 OC Come forth, let us assay 
 Our bookes together here. 
 They go to one side and consult the sacred scrolls of proph- 
 ecy ; then^ returning f they address Herod, ivho has 
 resumed his seat, 
 
 Secontr i0OC» Certes, sir, lo, here find I 
 Well written in prophesy. 
 How that prophet Isa-y, 
 
 That ne'er beguiled. 
 Tells that a maiden of her body 
 
 Shall bear a Child. 
 
 jFttSt HBot* And also, sir, to you I tell 
 The marvelest thing that ever fell, — 
 Her maidenhood with her shall dwell, 
 
 As did befome! 
 That Child shall hight Emanuel 
 
 When he is born. 
 
 ^CCOntl HBOC* Lord, this is sooth, securely, 
 Witness the prophet Isa-y 
 
 f^tV, Out, alas! for dole I die. 
 Long ere my day! 
 Shall he have greater power than I? 
 Ah, wellaway ! [He rises, 
 
 Alas, alas, I am forlorn ! 
 
 I wold be rent and all to-tom ; 
 
 But look ye yet, as ye did befome ; 
 
 For love of me, — 
 And tell me where that boy is bom ; 
 
 Anon let see. (The doctors again consult the 
 sacred scrolls, ) 
 
 [35] 
 
jFitSt liOC. All ready, lord, with main and mood. 
 ^tV* Have done at once, or I go wood ^ ; 
 And, certes, that gadling were as good 
 
 Have grieved me naught; 
 I shall see that caitiff's blood. 
 
 By Him that me has bought ! 
 
 <S0COnT( 20OC. Micheas the prophet, withouten nay, 
 How that he tells I shall you say : 
 In Bedlehem, land of Juday, 
 
 As I say you, 
 From out thereof a Duke shall spray ; ^ 
 
 Thus find we now. 
 
 jFltBt 10OC* Sir, thus we find in prophecy: 
 Therefor we say you, secureljr. 
 In Bedlem, we say you truly. 
 Bom is that King. 
 fkftV* The devil hang you high to dry, 
 For this tiding ! 
 
 And certes ye lie ! it may not be ! 
 
 ,SeCOntr 23 OC. Lord, we witness it truly; 
 Here the sooth yourself may see, 
 If ye can read. 
 fj^tv* Ah, wellaway! full woe is me! 
 The devil you speed ! 
 
 i^irst Hoc Lord, it is sooth, all that we say. 
 We find it written in our lay. 
 
 fl^tV* Go hence, varlets, in twenty devil way. 
 
 Fast for your life ! [The doctors flee from his 
 presence* The kings rise* 
 
 I mad ^ a leader shall arise 
 
 [36] 
 
Mighty Mahowne, as he well may. 
 Let you never thrive! 
 
 Alas, whereto wear I a crown? 
 
 Or why am called of great renown? 
 
 I am the foulest beaten down 
 
 That ever was man ; 
 And by a foul rascallion, 
 
 That no good can. 
 
 Alas, that ever I should be knight. 
 Or holden man of mickle might. 
 If a lad should reave ^ me my right, 
 
 All thus me fro; 
 Lo, to my death I should me dight ^ 
 
 Ere it were so. 
 
 He turns to the Magu 
 
 Ye noble kings, your ears now lend! 
 Ye shall have safe conduct to wend; 
 But come again and me attend 
 
 Here, I you pray; 
 Ye shall me find a faithful friend. 
 
 If ye do swae.^ 
 
 If it be sooth, this new tiding. 
 Some worship would I do that King, 
 Therefor I pray you that you bring 
 Me tidings soon. 
 JfaS* All ready, lord, at your bidding 
 It shall be done. [The kings mount 
 their horses and depart* 
 
 ' bereave me of ^ address myself 3 so 
 
 [37] 
 
fj^tt* Ah, fie, fie, on the tales that I have been told, 
 Here before my cruel knee ! 
 How should a baim wax so bold 
 
 If born among the beasts he be? 
 He is young, and I am old, 
 
 A hardy king of high degree! — [Corneis heard in 
 distance* 
 This day those Kinges shall lie cold 
 If they come again to me. — 
 
 My Gods I shall upraise, — 
 A dark devil with falseness, I say. 
 Shall cast a mist in the kinges eye 
 By the banks and the dales dry, 
 
 That by dark they shall come this ways. 
 
 {Kneeling*) Mahound, thou art of mightes most, 
 In my sight a glorious ghost; 
 Thou comfortest me both in coimtry and coast 
 
 With thy wisdom and thy wit; 
 For truly, lord, in thee is my trust. 
 Good lord, let not my might be lost: 
 All my counsel well thou wotst ! 
 
 Here in thy presence as I set 
 This besawnt ^ of gold, rich and round 
 
 I offer it for my pauste ^ and me : 
 That thou mayst aid me in this stound ' 
 
 Sweet Mahound, remember me! 
 He remains a moment 'with hands and face uplifted; then 
 rising and approaching the front of the stage above 
 Hellmoutht he spreads his hands doTvn'wards and calls 
 <zvith head depressed: — 
 Help! Sathanas and Lucifer, 
 Balzebub, bold bachelere, 
 
 * coin ^ power ^ hour 
 
 [38] 
 
Ragnayll, thou art my dear ! [Smoke from below, but 
 no de-vils. 
 Now fare I wonder evil! 
 Alas, alas, where is my powere? [Manifold sounds. 
 Ye demons of the Doom appear 
 And body and soule, both in fere,^ 
 
 I vow unto the Devil ! 
 Two devils proceed from Hellmouih, <Tvith thunder, fire, and 
 cries of ** out-harro<w/' 
 
 primus Bemon. Anon! Master, Anon! anon! 
 From Hell grounde I heard thee groan: 
 I thought I wold not come myself alone 
 For thy worship and thy praise. 
 fl^tV* O, dark devil with falseness, I say, 
 Go, cast a mist in those Kinges eye 
 By bankes and by dales dry. 
 
 That by dark they shall come this ways. 
 Dumb-shcm) ; lurid lights ; thunder* Exeunt devils, call- 
 ing do'wn mists. Then darkness* 
 
 Explicit Processus Secundus, 
 
 ' company 
 
 [39] 
 
i^tocesBttB Wtvtiun 
 Loquitur <Sfafiriel 
 
 Amend thee, man, whiles yet thou may, 
 
 Let never no mirth fordo thy mind; 
 Think thou on the dreadful day 
 
 When God shall doom all mankind. 
 
 Think thou fares as doth the wind ; 
 This world is waste, and will away; 
 
 Man, revolve this in thy mind, 
 O man, amend thee whiles thou may. 
 
 Amend thee, man, whiles thou art here, 
 
 Or e'er thou go another gait; 
 When thou art dead and laid on bier. 
 
 Wit thou well thou art too late; 
 
 For if thy goods, with none abate. 
 Were held for thee after thy day, 
 
 In heaven they would not mend thy state, 
 Forthwith amend thee whiles thou may. 
 
 If thou be right royal in rent, 
 
 As is the steed standing in stall. 
 Still know in heart and take intent 
 
 That they are Goddes goodes all. 
 
 He might have made thee poor and small 
 As one that begs fro day to day ; 
 
 Wit thou well, account thou shall, 
 Therefore amend thee whiles thou may. 
 
 [40] 
 
Sceita Prima 
 
 Mak's Hut 
 
 iWtafe. {Outside,) Undo this door. Who is here? 
 
 How long shall I stand? 
 iSffill. (From luttfiin.) Who starts all this gear^? 
 
 Now walk with a wanyand ! ^ 
 ^UiX* Ah, Gyll, what cheer? It is I, Mak, your 
 
 husband. {Calling impatiently,) 
 ^^U* Then may we see here the devil in a band, 
 Sir Guile! \_She comes ivUh her knitting to the 
 door and lets him in, 
 
 Lo, he comes with a coil 
 As he were gripped by the gule.^ 
 I may not sit at my toil 
 A hand-long while. 
 
 ifWalt* Will ye hear what fare she makes her sloth 
 for to gloze? 
 And does naught but loiter and wiggle her toes. 
 
 ©rgll* Why, who wanders, who wakes, who comes, 
 who goes? 
 Who brews, who bakes? Who makes me this hose? 
 
 [Displaying her handi<work. 
 
 Ah, then, 
 It is ruth to behold 
 Now in hot, now in cold, — 
 Woe worth the househbld 
 
 That wants a woman! 
 
 « trouble ^ Be off, and bad luck to you ! 3 throat 
 
 [41] 
 
But what end has thou made with the herds, Mak? 
 JWafe. The last words that they said when I turned 
 my back 
 They would look that they had their sheep, all the 
 
 pack, 
 I hope they '11 not be well paid when they find they 're 
 to lack, Perde ! 
 
 But how-so the game goes, 
 My part they '11 suppose, 
 And make a foul noise. 
 
 And cry out upon me. 
 
 But thou must do as thou hight.^ 
 
 ^glL — I accord me theretill, 
 
 I shall swaddle him right in my cradle ; \_She sees to 
 
 the Tvether, and turns to the bed, 
 I will lie down straight ; come hap me. — 
 JHafe. I will. 
 
 ^gU. {Directing him hoiv to tuck her in, ) Behind ! 
 Come Coll cuid his marrow,- 
 They will nip us full narrow. 
 IWafe. Like the de'il I '11 cry " Harrow! " 
 The sheep if they find. 
 
 QSf'JoXh Hearken still for their call; they will come 
 anon. 
 Come and make ready all and sing by thine own; 
 Sing " Lullay " thou shall, for I must groan 
 And cry out by the wall on Mary and John, 
 Full sore. 
 Sing " Lullay " on fast 
 When thou hears them at last; 
 
 ' promised ^ fellows 
 
 [42] 
 
And but I play a false cast/ 
 Trust me no more. 
 
 Mak rocks the cradle and sings over the sheep : - 
 
 LfuUy, lulla, thow littell tine " child, 
 By by, lully, lullay, thow littell tine child, 
 By by, lully, lullay ! 
 
 The Crooked Thorn^ Beyond the Moor 
 
 Enter Coll to Da<w and Gyb, 
 !♦ Ah, Coll, good mom! Why sleeps thou not? 
 QttiW, Alas, that ever was I bom! We have a foul 
 blot. 
 A fat wether have we lorn. 
 
 Bail). Marry, God grant not! 
 
 ^g)). Who should do us that scorn? That were a 
 
 foul spot. 
 (^Oll* Some shrew. 
 
 And in bushes and bogs 
 All Horbery Shrogs, 
 I have sought with my dogs 
 I found but one ewe. 
 
 Now trow me, if you will ; by Saint Thomas 
 of Kent, 
 Either Mak or Gyll, was at that assent.^ 
 
 ColL Peace, man, be still! I saw when he went; 
 Thou slanders him ill ; thou ought to repent 
 Good speed. 
 
 " If I fool them not ^ tiny 3 conspiracy 
 
 [43] 
 
QSrS'^* Now by my hopes on high. 
 If I should even here die, 
 I 'd say, as I am I, 
 
 That Mak did that same deed. 
 
 HatD* Go we thither, I rede, and run on our feet. 
 Shall I never eat bread the sooth till I weet. 
 (UtOlL Nor drink in my head v/ith him till I meet. 
 (Sr^tl* I will rest in no stead ^ till that I him greet. — 
 My brother, 
 One vow I will plight : 
 Till I see him in sight 
 Shall I never sleep night, 
 
 If I ne'er sleep another. 
 They move toward the cottage and listen to the strains 
 proceeding thence* 
 
 <Scena ^ertia 
 
 Mak's Hut 
 
 JWatt <Tvithin, singing, 
 Lully, lulla, thow littell tine child, 
 By by, lully, lullay, thow littell tine child, 
 By by, lully, lullay! 
 
 Kind sirs, tell you. 
 How may we do 
 
 For to preserve this day 
 This pore yongling, 
 For whom we do singe 
 
 By by, lully, lullay? 
 Cho, Lully, lulla, thow littell — etc, 
 
 * spot 
 
 [44] 
 
Herod, the king, 
 In his raging, 
 
 Chargid he hath this day 
 His men of might 
 In his owne sight 
 
 All yonge children to slay ! — Cho* 
 
 Ah, woe is me. 
 Pore child, for thee ! 
 
 And ever mome and may 
 For thi parting 
 I '11 say and sing. 
 
 By by, lully, lullay. — Cho, 
 
 liatD* Will ye hear how they hawk? Mak betakes 
 
 him to croon. 
 ^Oll. Heard I never none croak so clear out of tune ; 
 Call on him. 
 ^fitl. Mak! undo your door soon. 
 
 JfWalfe* Who is that spake as if it were noon 
 Aloft? 
 Who is that? I say. 
 219 dtt). Good fellows, were it day. 
 JWlafe. {Courteously,) As far as ye may, \_Thrusting 
 his head out* 
 Good, speak soft. 
 
 Over a sick woman's head that is at mal-ease ; 
 I had liever be dead than she had dis-ease. [ They enter* 
 &^\\* {From the bed*) Go to another stead, I may not 
 well wheeze: 
 Each foot that ye tread, it makes me to sneeze, — 
 So hee! 
 
 [45] 
 
(IColL Tell us, Mak, if ye may, 
 How fare ye, I say? 
 J^att* But are ye in this town to-day ? 
 Now how fare ye} 
 
 {Noting ivith solicitude their evil condition,) Ye have 
 run in the mire and are wet yet; 
 I shall make you a fire if ye will sit. 
 A nurse would I hire, know ye one that will fit? 
 Well quit is my hire ; — My dream, this is it, — 
 For a season, 
 I have bairns, if ye knew. 
 Well more than eno' : 
 But we must drink as we brew. 
 And that is but reason. 
 
 I would ye dined ere ye yode ^ ; methinks that ye sweat. 
 ©^gt). Nay, neither mends our mood — drink nor 
 
 meat. 
 JWaife* Why, sir, ails you aught but good? 
 ^aU). Yea, our sheep that we get 
 
 Are stolen on the road; our loss is great. 
 
 I^afe. {Offering drink,) Sirs, drinks! 
 Had I been thore,- 
 Some should have bought it full sore. 
 
 €^Oll. {Aside,) Marry, some men trows that you 
 wore,^ 
 And that us for-thinks.^ 
 
 ©^gtJ» Mak, some men trows that it should be ye. 
 2iatD> Either you or your spouse, so say we. 
 ^alt* Now if ye suppose 't was Gyll or 't was me, 
 
 I departed * there ^ were ■* suspect 
 
 [46] 
 
Come and rip up our house and then may ye see 
 
 Who had her. 
 If I 've stolen sow, 
 Bullock or cow, — 
 And Gyll rose not now 
 
 Sin' first she down laid her. 
 
 As I am true and leal, to God here I pray 
 
 That this be the first meal that I shall eat this day. 
 
 Qx'OU* Mak, by my weal, advise thee, I say! 
 He learned timely to steal that could not say nay. 
 <3f2U. {In agony,) Isweltl^ 
 
 Out thieves, from my wones ^ ! 
 Ye come to rob us, for the nonce. 
 ilWafe. Hear ye not how she groans? 
 Your hearts should melt. 
 
 iSfglL Out, thieves, from my bairn, nigh him not 
 
 thor. 
 J^ai^* Wist ye how she was ta'en, your hearts 
 would be sore. 
 Ye do wrang, I complain, that thus come before 
 To a wife with a wean — but I say no more ! 
 ®^2lL Ah, my middle! 
 
 I pray to God so mild. 
 If ever I you beguiled. 
 May I eat this child [^Pointing to the sheep. 
 That lies in this cradle! 
 
 I, Peace, woman, for God's pain, and cry not so ; 
 
 \_She screams. 
 Thou spills ^ my brain and makes me full woe. 
 ^Sll« I trow our sheep be slain. What find ye two? 
 
 ' I 'm fainting ! ^ dwelling J injure 
 
 [47] 
 
All work we in vain ; as well may we go. [He 
 makes farther examination. 
 But, {Shearing.) hatters! — 
 I can find no flesh, 
 Hard nor nesh,^ 
 Salt nor fresh, 
 
 But two empty platters. 
 
 Of quick - cattle save this, tame or wild, {^Pointing to the 
 
 cradle. 
 None, I swear by my bliss, as loud as he smiled. 
 ^glL No, so God me bless and give me joy of my 
 
 child ! 
 Coll. We have marked amiss ;^ {Gi'ving it up,) I 
 hold us beguiled. 
 CSgl). Sir, — done! 
 Sir, our lady him save ! 
 
 {Pointing to the cradle,) Is 't a wench or a knave? 
 ifttafe. Any lord might him have. 
 This child for his son; 
 
 When he wakens he grips, 't is a joy but to see — 
 iBdt))* How he smiles with his lips in felicity. 
 
 But who was his gossips? Come, tell them to me. 
 ^niX, So fair fall their lips ! — 
 (JPoll. Hark now, a lie! 
 
 ^at. So God them thank, 
 
 Park5m, and Gybon Waller, I say, 
 
 And gentle John Home, in good fay, — 
 
 He that made all the fray. 
 
 With the great sheep-shank. 
 
 CSgtJ. {Shaking hands before parting,) 
 Mak, friends will we be, for we are all one. 
 
 • tender ^ live ^ made a false guess 
 
 [48] 
 
L Wae! now I hold for me, for amends get I 
 none. 
 {Sulking*) Farewell all three! All glad were ye gone. 
 The shepherds pass out, 
 i!BatD« Fair words may there be, but love is there 
 none 
 This year. 
 Coll* Gave ye the child anything? 
 ^gfj. I trow, not one farthing. 
 
 Iiat0« In again will I fling. {Returning to the cottage , 
 Abide ye me there. 
 
 Mak, take it to no grief, if I come to thy bairn. 
 ^afe. ( Warding him from the cradle, ) Nay, thou does 
 me great repreve ^ and foul hast thou fame.^ 
 BatU. The child will it not grieve, that little day- 
 stame. 
 Mak, with your leave, let me give your bairn 
 But six-pence. 
 ^afe» Nay, do way; he sleeps. 
 HBatO. {Dra<wing nearer,) Methink he peeps. 
 ^aU. When he wakens he weeps; 
 
 I pray you go hence. [ The other shepherds return 
 and sidle up to the cradle, 
 
 119 atD* Give me leave him to kiss, and lift up the 
 clout. 
 {He lifts it,) What the devil is this? He has a long 
 snout. 
 Coll. He is marked amiss; we wait ill about. 
 CfStl. " 111 spun woof, iwis, aye comes foul out." ^ 
 Ay, so! 
 He is like to our sheep ! 
 
 * reproach ^ done ^ gad spinning always ravels. 
 
 4 [49] 
 
How, Gyb! may I peep? 
 (i^oU. I trow, " kind will creep 
 Where it may not go." 
 
 QSf^i}* This was a quaint gaud and a fair cast.^ 
 It was a high fraud. 
 
 IBatD« Yea, sirs, was 't. 
 
 Let 's burn this bawd, and bind her fast. 
 Ah ! false skawd, hang at the last, — 
 So shall thou. 
 
 Will ye see how they swaddle 
 His fore feet in the middle? 
 Saw I never in a cradle 
 
 A horned lad ere now. 
 
 ^at. Peace bid I! What! let be your fare! 
 I am he that him gat, and yond woman him bare. 
 <St0U. What the devil shall he hatt-? Mak? Lo 
 
 God, Mak's heir! 
 (3r||il* Let be all that. Now God be his care. 
 And staff! 
 
 ^gU. A pretty child is he 
 As sits on a woman's knee ; 
 A dyllydowne, perde. 
 
 To make a man laugh! 
 
 IBuia* I know him by the ear-mark; that is a good 
 
 token. 
 S^ai^. I tell you, sirs, hark! his nose was broken; 
 Erewhile told me a clerk that he was forspoken.^ 
 CCoU. This is a false work; I would vengeance 
 
 were wroken,* 
 
 J a queer jest and a cunning trick 3 enchanted 
 
 2 be called 4 wreaked 
 
 [50] 
 
Get weapon! 
 
 ©^^11. He was taken with an elf, 
 I saw it myself; 
 When the clock struck twelve 
 Was he misshapen. 
 
 CJfgiJ. Ye two are well fiefed in the same homestead. 
 iiaU)« Sin' they maintain their theft, let 's do them 
 
 to dead. 
 JWafe. If I trespass eft,^ gird off my head ! 
 With you will I be left. 
 iPatD. Sirs, list to my rede: - 
 
 For this trespass 
 We will neither ban ne flyte,^ 
 Fight nor chide, 
 But we '11 take him on sight, 
 And cast him in canvas. 
 
 [They toss Mak in a. sheet or take him off* 
 
 Explicit Processus Tertius, 
 
 * again ^ hear my advice 3 neither curse nor quarrel 
 
 [51] 
 
processus ^uartusi 
 
 The Adeste Fidetis is heard; then loquitur CEf aiJtltl 
 
 Well may these sely wights ^ behold 
 And wise men wandering blindly yet 
 How Truth and Charity are met 
 And Peace and Justice as of old 
 To kiss each other: 
 Since of God's embassy I was set 
 In Galilee of Nazeret 
 To hail God's Mother. 
 
 Annong her maidens I found her there, 
 Susanna, Rebecca and Sephare 
 
 That kinges daughters were: 
 All wrought they silk to find them on ; 
 Mary wrought purple, the others none 
 
 But other colours sere : — 
 
 " Hail, Mary full of grace," I said, 
 " Mary in this take ye no dread, 
 
 Our Lord God is with thee : 
 Ye shall conceive and bear indeed 
 A Child, the Son of the Godhead." 
 " My face I bow," the Virgin said, 
 
 " In all humility." 
 
 Now jolly hinds that watch their sheep, 
 And kings that grope in darkness deep 
 
 ' simple folk 
 [52] 
 
Their trysting with yon Star shall keep 
 
 That wins mankind to weal : 
 Butter and honey shall be his meat 
 That he may Satan downward beat, 
 Our saules out of Hell to get — 
 That Child, Emanuel. 
 
 [53l 
 
&ttna Prima 
 
 Storm and Darkness, The Fields near Bethlehem, The 
 Magi are discovered dimly in the Distance^ groping 
 their Way, but not toivard Bethlehem, 
 
 ^ttcL Alas, in the world how have we sped? 
 Where is the light that us has led? 
 Some cloud, forsooth, that Stame has clad 
 
 From us away. 
 In strong distress are we bestead ; 
 
 What may we say? 
 
 i^alt. Woe worth Herod, that cursed wight! 
 Woe worth that tyrant day and night ! 
 For through him have we lost that sight, 
 
 And for his guile, — 
 That shone to us with beames bright 
 
 That latter while. 
 They remain a space looking for the star^ and then dismount 
 from their horses, 
 
 J) as* Lordings, I rede we pray all three 
 To that Lord, whose nativity 
 The Stame betokened that we could see, 
 
 All with his will. 
 Pray we specially that he 
 
 Wold show it us until. [Here kneel all three 
 Kings, 
 
 JWfl. (Praying, ) Thou Child, whose might no tongue 
 may tell, 
 As thou art Lord of Heaven and Hell, 
 
 [54] 
 
Thy noble Stame, Emanuel, 
 • Thou send us yare ^ ; 
 That we may wit by wood and fell 
 How we shall fare. 
 The star reappears ; the Kings see it bat remain kneeling* 
 
 ISalt* {Praying,) Ah, to that Child be ever honour, 
 That in this tide has stayed our stoure,^ 
 And lent us light to our succour, 
 
 On this manere; 
 We love thee, Lord of town and tower, 
 Wholly in fear. 
 
 Here rise they alt* 
 
 3^^* {To the rest,) We owe to love him over all 
 thing, 
 That thus has sent us our asking ; 
 Behold, yond Stame has made rising, 
 
 Sirs, securely; 
 Of this Child shall we have knowing, 
 I hope, on high. 
 
 JW0L Lordings dear, we need dread naught. 
 Our great travel to end is brought ; [/fe points to the 
 
 stable in the distance, 
 Yond is the place that we have sought 
 
 From far cuntre; 
 Yond is the Child that all has wrought. 
 Behold and see ! 
 
 JJflJS. Lordings, we have traveled lang. 
 And rested have we little emang. 
 Therefor I rede now, ere we gang. 
 With all our main, 
 
 ' speedily ^ distress 
 
 [55] 
 
That we should sleep a little lang, 
 Lo, I am fain ; 
 
 Msiit* 'T is well we rest a thrawe/ 
 For to maintain our might, 
 And then do as we awe - 
 
 To the new born Prince of Light. 
 jl^el. Then shall we wend to Herod, the king. 
 For of our promise we must be paid; 
 That he himself may make offering 
 
 Unto this Child ; for so he said. [ They go off* 
 Strains are heard of the Gloria in Excetsis. 
 
 <Scena SecunTra 
 
 The Shepherds asleep. Angels sing " Gloria in Excelsis/'^ 
 as the Morning of Christ's Birth daivns. 
 
 Loquitur (KatirieL 
 
 Rise, herdmen hind ^ ! for now is he bom 
 That shall take fro' the fiend what Adam had lorn * : 
 That Warlock to shend ^ this night is he bom ; 
 God is made your friend now at this morn. 
 His behest is : 
 
 At Bethlehem go see 
 There lies Deity 
 In a crib full poorly 
 
 Betwixt two beastes. 
 
 The shepherds aiuake and listen, 
 
 * space 2 ought ^ gracious * lost 
 
 2 ought 3 gracious 
 
 s That Devil to destroy 
 
 [56] 
 
CoU* This was the quaintest strain that ever yet 
 I heard. 
 'T is a marvel to name, we should be thus scared. 
 
 (UStSt^* Of God's son of heaven he spake upward. 
 All the wood in a levin ^ methought that he gard 
 Appear. 
 HatD. He spake of a bairn 
 In Bedlem, I you warn. 
 
 (!!^Oll. (Seeing above him the star,) 
 That betokens yond Starne, 
 Let us seek him there. 
 
 ®^giJ. Say, what was his song? Heard you not 
 how he craked - it. 
 Three briefs to a long? 
 
 lI9atD> Yea, marry, he hacked^ it; 
 
 Was no crotchet wrong, nor nothing that lacked it. 
 <3^0U. For to sing us among, right as he knacked * it, 
 
 I can. 
 (Sr^])* Let see how ye croon ; 
 Can ye bark at the moon? 
 
 Colt tries to repeat the song " Gle, glo, glas, glum, Gte, 
 glOf glory " / Gyb jeers at him, 
 HatD* Hold your tongues, have done! 
 
 ^OlL {Trying again,) Hark after, then: — 
 *' Gte, glo, glas/' etc, then they sing ** Terli Terlom),"^ 
 slightly changed from the former -version, — thus : 
 
 As I out rode this enderes '^ night. 
 
 Of three joli sheppardes I saw a sight, 
 
 And all abowte their fold a Star shone bright; — 
 
 1 He set all the wood in a lightning. ^ shouted ^ worked it out 
 
 4 hit it off * other, recent 
 
 [573 
 
They sang " terli terlow ; 
 
 So merreli the sheppards their pipes can blow." 
 
 [Re f ram of pipes* 
 Doune from heaven, from heaven so hie, 
 Of angeles ther came a companie, — 
 With mirthe and joy and great solemnitye 
 They sange " terly terlowe. 
 
 So merreli the sheppards their pipes can blow." 
 
 [Refrain of pipes, 
 
 aSiS^* To Bedlem he bade that we should gang; 
 I 'm sore afraid that we tarry too lang. 
 
 liatQ* Be merry and not sad, of mirth is our sang, 
 Everlasting joy for our meed may we fang,^ 
 And no woes. 
 ^OlL Thither therefore, let us hie, — 
 Tho' we be wet^ and wear^, — 
 To see that Child and that Lady 
 We have it not to lose. 
 
 QSiS'^* We find by the prophecy — (To Colt again 
 attempting the Angel's song:) let be your din — 
 Of David and Isai' and more than I mind. 
 They prophesied by clergy that in a Virgin 
 Should he light and lie, to slacken our sin 
 
 And slake it, — 
 Save our kind from woe; 
 For Isai' said so: 
 
 Ecce 'virgo 
 
 Concipiet a child that is naked. 
 
 HatO* Full glad may we be and abide that day 
 That Lovely to see, that Almighty's May.- 
 
 ^ receive ^ maiden 
 
 [58] 
 
Lord, well were me for once and for aye, 
 Might I kneel on my knee some word for to say 
 To that Child. 
 ©^gtJ, But the angel said. 
 In a crib was he laid, 
 He was poorly arrayed. 
 
 And his Mother mild. 
 
 They approach the stable, 
 
 <j^0U. Patriarchs that has been and prophets beforne, 
 They desired to have seen this Child that is born. 
 They are gone full clean; and this have they lorn. 
 We shall see him, I ween ere it be mom. 
 To token. 
 ^gt)« When I see him and feel, 
 Then wot I full weel 
 It is true as steel 
 
 That the prophets have spoken : — 
 (iirolL To so poor as we are that he wold appear. 
 First find, and declare by his messengere. [Pointing to 
 
 the Star tuhich stands over the stable. 
 Go we now, let us fare ; the place is us near. 
 HatD* I am ready and yare; ^ go we in fear 
 To that bright. 
 Lord, if thy will it be, [ They all kneel outside the stable. 
 We are lewde ^ all three : 
 Thou grant us som-kyns glee ^ 
 To comfort thy Wight.* 
 They remain kneeling Hvith faces toward the Star, 
 
 ' quite ready ^ ignorant ^ some kind of charm * thy Child 
 
 [59] 
 
The Kings steeping. <jff atrCel appears and loquitur. 
 
 Sir courteous kings, to me take tent/ 
 
 And turn by time ere ye offend ! \_ Jasper aivaftes and 
 
 listens* 
 From God his self thus am I sent 
 
 To warn you, as your faithful friend, 
 How Herod king has malice meant. 
 
 And shapes with shame you for to shend.- — 
 And so that ye no harmes hent,'* 
 
 By other ways God wills ye wend 
 Into your own cuntre; 
 And if ye ask him boon. 
 For the deed that ye have done. 
 
 Your comfort will he be. [Gabriel departs* 
 
 JJaS, Waken, waken, lordings dear! 
 Our dwelling is no longer here ; 
 An angel spake to us in fear; 
 
 Bade us, as a friend. 
 That we ne should, on no manere, 
 
 Home by Herod wend. 
 
 PleL Almighty God in Trinity, 
 With heart entirely thank I thee, 
 That thine angel sent till us three, 
 And taught us so 
 
 I pay heed ~ plans shamefully to harm you ^ take 
 
 [60] 
 
Our false foe, Herod, for to flee, 
 That us would fordo. 
 
 ^atticL {Affatn appearing,) Whether that ye be 
 waken or sleep, 
 My lorde God shalle you keep : 
 In goode time ye did down drepe ^ 
 
 To take your rest. — 
 For Herod to the devil he tryst ^ 
 To mar you in a thickd mist : 
 My lord God is full list 
 
 To warn you of his zest.^ 
 
 And therefore, Kinges, when ye rise. 
 Adore the Child that yonder lies. — 
 Then wendeth forth by wayes wise 
 
 In diverse land. 
 The Father of God in alle thing 
 Hath you granted his sweet blessing, 
 He shall you save from all shending * — 
 
 With his right hand. 
 
 ]SaIt» Unto that Prince I rede we pray. 
 That till us sent his sign unsought, 
 That he show us the ready way 
 That we may find him as we ought. 
 
 ^0l* {Pointing to the Star above the stable,) 
 Ah, sirs, I see it stand 
 
 Above where he is born, 
 Lo, here is the house at hand, 
 
 We have nought missed this mom. 
 
 * drop 3 God desires to warn you of his purpose. 
 
 2 trusted * harm 
 
 [6i] 
 
They advance and kneel ivith faces icHvard the Star, a King 
 beside each shepherd. They may sing here the Ho- 
 sanna in Excetsis, After a space^ Metchior approaches 
 the stable and knocks, A handmaiden opens the door 
 part 'way. Strains are heard from within : 
 
 Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini. 
 
 ^ttttUa* Whom seek ye, sirs, by ways so wild. 
 
 With talking, travelling to and fro? 
 Here wones ^ a woman with her child. 
 
 And her husband; here are no mo'. 
 
 ^tL We seek a wean shall all things wield. 
 
 His certain sign hath said us so. 
 And his mother, a maiden mild. 
 
 Here trust we now to find them two. 
 
 ^nC* Come near, good sirs, and see, 
 
 Your way to end is brought. {^First and Second Kings 
 
 enter, 
 38 alt, {Turning to the Shepherds,) Behold here, sirs, 
 
 draw nigh and see. 
 The same that ye have sought. 
 
 ' dwells 
 
 [62] 
 
The Stable opens and discloses the Manger, Mary and the 
 Child, Gabriel, Joseph, handmaidens, beasts* Shep- 
 herds and Magi on either side appoach and fall upon 
 their knees. Invisible angels sing the Hosanna in 
 Excelsis* 
 
 ^atJtiel loquitur. 
 
 Oh, come ye faithful and adore 
 
 The Way that many miss, 
 The Truth the prophets sought of yore. 
 
 The Life that Lighteth this : 
 
 To-day the Angels sing in Heaven 
 
 Of God's completed plan: 
 To-day the Son of God is given 
 
 To be the Son of Man ; 
 
 Heaven floods to-day the sentient earth, 
 
 All bounds and barriers cease; 
 Angels and men acclaim one Birth, 
 
 One Christ, one Prince of Peace. \_Siands be- 
 hind the Manger, 
 
 [63] 
 
[JWarg. {To Joseph,) Ah! Joseph, husband, come 
 
 hither anon; 
 My child is bom that is King of bliss. 
 J)0!Stp)|. Now welcome to me, O Maker of man. 
 With all the homage that I can! 
 Thy sweet mouth here will I kiss. 
 
 JWarfi. {Holding the Child out to her husband, ) 
 Ah! Joseph, husband, my child waxeth cold, 
 And we have no fire to warm him with. 
 JIO£i0pi^« Now, in mine arms I shall him fold, 
 King of all kings by field and by frith ! ^ 
 He might have had better, and himself wold. 
 
 Than the breathing of these beastes to Vv'arm him 
 with. 
 {He lays the Child in the manger near the beasts,) 
 
 J^atg. Now, Joseph, my husband, fetch hither 
 
 my child, 
 The Maker of man and high King of bliss. 
 ^OSpp))* That shall be done anon, Mary so mild, 
 For the breathing of these beastes hath warmed him 
 
 well, i-wys. 
 
 {He returns the Child to its mother, ) 
 ^matg. {Sings,) Magnificat anima mea Dominum ! 
 
 The Kings, still kneeling, speak to each other, 
 J|aS» Loved be that Lord that lasteth aye. 
 That us hath called thus courteously, 
 To wend by many a wilsome ^ way, 
 And come to this clean company ! 
 JWI0I. Let us make now no more delay, 
 But straight take forth our treasury, 
 
 ' by land and sea ^ devious 
 
 [64] 
 
And gifts ordained of good array 
 
 To worship him, as is worthy. 
 
 iJdlt. He is worthy to wield 
 
 All worship, wealth and win, — 
 And for honour and eld, 
 
 Brother, {To Jasper,) ye shall begin.] 
 
 JfaS. {Advances ivUh his offering, and kneels before 
 the Child,) 
 Hail! thou Fairest of fair, folk for to find, 
 
 From the fiend and his fellows faithful defend! 
 Hail ! the Best that art borne in this world to unbind 
 
 All the bairns that are bom and balefully bound! 
 Hail ! do thou mark us thy men and make us in mind. 
 Since thy might is on earth our mischance to amend ! 
 Hail! clean that art come of a kingly kind. 
 
 To be King of this kith, as clergy hath kenned ! 
 And sith it shall work on this wise, 
 
 Thy self have I sought, I say thee, 
 With gold that is greatest of price. — 
 Be paid of this present, I pray thee ! 
 He lays the gold — a round apple in form, as much as a 
 man might hold in his hand — and thirty gold pieces 
 of money beside the Virgin and the Child, 
 JHarS* Deo gratias. 
 The Child touches the gold and in that moment it is broken 
 alt to dust. The Shepherds, stilt kneeling, speak to 
 each other: 
 
 ^gi). Such hap of weal never herd-men had; 
 Lo ! here is the house, and here is he. 
 Brothers, be all blithe and glad. 
 
 Here is the place that we should be. 
 
 5 [65] 
 
Ya! for sooth this is the same, 
 
 Lo ! where that Lord is laid 
 Betwixt two beastes tame, — 
 
 Right as the angel said. 
 
 ^OU* The angel said that he should save 
 
 This world and all that wones therein ; 
 Therefore since I for pardon crave, 
 
 To worship him I will begin. 
 
 The Shepherds advance to adore the Child* 
 ^Oll. Hail, comely and clean! Hail, young Child! 
 Hail, Maker, as I mean ! — Of a Maiden so mild ! 
 Thou hast wasted, I wean, the Warlock so wild; 
 The false guiler of teyn, now goes he beguiled.^ — 
 
 Lo, he merries; 
 Lo, he laughs, my sweeting ! 
 A full fair meeting ! — 
 I give thee my greeting — 
 
 Have a bob of cherries ! 
 [JWatfi, Deo gratias.] 
 
 Kings advance again to adore, 
 
 fSith Hail! Food that thy folk fully may feed,— 
 Hail! Flower fairest that never shall fade, — 
 Hail! Son, that art sent of this same seed. 
 
 That shalt save us of sin that our sires had ! 
 Hail! Child that art meet to mark us for meed, 
 
 Of a maiden mateless thy mother thou made! 
 In her goodness, through grace of thy godhead. 
 As the gleam in the glass thou didst glide full 
 glad. 
 And sith thou shall sit to be our Judge, 
 To hell or to heaven for to have us, 
 
 ' Thou hast overcome, I think, the evil one, the false weaver of woe. 
 
 [66] 
 
 Lofi 
 
Incense to thy service we shall not grudge. — 
 Son ! see to thy subjects, and save us ! 
 
 Attendants enter ivith incense, 
 JUarg, Deo gratias. 
 
 Shepherds ad'oance again to adore* 
 
 ^S^. Hail, sovran Saviour, for thou has us sought! 
 Hail, goodly Babe and Flower, that all thing has 
 
 wrought ! 
 Hail, full of favour, that made all of nought! 
 Hail ! I kneel and I cower. — A bird have I brought 
 
 To my bairn. \_Presents it. 
 Hail, little tiny mop! 
 Of our creed thou art crop ^ : 
 I would drink of thy cup. 
 Little Day-Starne. 
 IW^ars. Deo gratias. 
 
 Kings advance again to adore, 
 J^^XX* Hail ! Bairn, that art bom our bales to abate,^ 
 For our boot ^ to be beaten and bruised without let ! 
 Hail ! Friend faithful, we fall at thy feet, — 
 
 Thy Father's folk from the fiend shalt Thou fet ^ ! 
 Hail! Man that art made for mankind meet, 
 
 Since Thou and thy Mother with mirth are met! 
 Hail ! Duke that shalt drive the Death under feet, — 
 But when all is done to die is thy debt. 
 And since thy body buried shall be. 
 
 This myrrh will I give to thy graving.^ 
 The gift is not great of price or degree, — 
 
 Receive it, and see to our saving. [^Gvves myrrh, 
 ^atg. {To the Magi,) Sir Kings, ye travel not in 
 vain, 
 
 ' the topmost branch ^ to assuage our woes 3 benefit 
 
 •* save 5 burial 
 
 [67] 
 
As ye have meant, here may ye find ; 
 For I conceived my Son certaine 
 
 Withouten sin or stain of mind. 
 And bare him here withouten pain, 
 
 Though woman's wont is to be pined. 
 God's angel in his greeting plain, 
 Said he should comfort all mankind; 
 Therefore doubt you no dell,^ 
 
 Here for to have your boon, — 
 I shall witness full well. 
 All that is said and done. 
 Kings boiv and retire. Shepherds advance again to adore, 
 
 HBab). Hail, Darling dear, full of godhead! 
 I pray thee be near when that I have need. 
 Hail ! sweet is thy cheer ! My heart would bleed 
 To see thee sit here in so poor weed,^ 
 
 With no pennies. 
 Hail ! put forth thy dall ^ ! 
 I bring thee but a ball ; 
 Have and play thee withal, — 
 
 And go to the tennis. [Shepherds retire* Strains 
 of the Adeste Fidelis are heard. 
 
 JOBepI), {To the Shepherds.) Herds on hill, 
 Be not still. 
 But say your will, 
 
 To many a man ; 
 Now God is born. 
 This merry mom. 
 All things forlorn * 
 
 Finden he can. 
 
 ■ whit " garb 3 hand 
 
 * that have been lost 
 
 [68] 
 
CEfSti, We shall tell, 
 By dale and hill, 
 That the Harrower of hell 
 
 Was born this night, — 
 Mirth to swell, 
 And fiends to quell, 
 That were so fell 
 
 Against his right. 
 ^aVS* (To the Shepherds,) The Father of heaven, 
 God omnipotent, 
 That set the plantes seven, his Son has he sent. 
 My name could he neven ^ and on me descend. 
 I conceived him full even, through his might as he 
 meant ; 
 And now is he born. 
 He keep you fro' woe! 
 I shall pray him so. 
 Tell it forth as ye go, 
 
 And mind on this mom. 
 
 <ttilL (As the Shepherds depart,) Farewell Lady, so 
 fair to behold, 
 With thy Child on thy knee ! 
 
 ®^gt). But he lies full cold. 
 
 Lord, well is me ! Now we go, — Thou behold. 
 l9ataD. Forsooth, already, it seems to be told 
 
 Full oft. 
 <II^OlL What grace we have found. 
 ^^t). Come forth, now are we soimd. 
 iiaU)« To sing are we bound : 
 Let us praise him aloft ! 
 
 [69] 
 
Shepherds begin to sing Adesie Fidetis, bat pause <zvhite First 
 King speaks : 
 J) as. For solace, sirs, now may we sing, 
 All is performed that we have prayed ; 
 But good Bairn, give us thy blessing, 
 For fair hap is before thee laid. 
 
 JWatfi. (Raising the Child, as Magi and Shepherds 
 'withdram) from the Stable, ) 
 Now, kings and herds, well fare ye, 
 
 For your homage and your singing: 
 My Son shall acquit you in heaven, ye see. 
 
 And give you all right good ending! Amen, 
 Kings and Shepherds depart singing Adeste Fidelis, At 
 intervals from above are heard strains of the Gloria 
 in Excelsis, A 'vision of angels discloses itself and 
 fades a<vjay, 
 
 EXPLICIT STELLA 
 
 [70] 
 
 A 
 
'Q 
 
 
 
• <^^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 .V^^ 
 
 
 
 
 t 
 
 i>'-. %.o<' 'M^^ "■>. ,*» .v*f 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 
 ' -^ 4 rv 
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 
 <^' 
 
 %-n^ 
 
 •/I'^'p- ~' ^^ 
 
 ->. 
 
 .-^ 
 
 0^ »''_*°' > 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 "fe 
 
 ,^' % 
 
 <". 
 
 S>-' c ° " " ^ -"^v 
 
 
 k\ 
 
 'K 
 
 '^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 V-^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 
 
 o. "oyo' ,0" ^^^ "»',,•' ^,5,^^ 
 
 
 
 S'='^ 
 
 <i> 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^ -^^ 
 
 V "^ V' -^"^ "^^^^ ■ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process 
 
 '^ Neutralizing agent; Magnesium Oxide 
 
 Treatment Date; Jan. 2009 
 
 ^ 
 
 n- 
 
 ^^-^^^ 
 
 .^ 
 
 
 PreservationTechnologies 
 
 A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 
 
 111 Thomson Park Drive 
 Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
 (724)779-2111 
 
U^" 
 
 < 
 
 A" , « o 
 
 
 
 ^N^,\ 
 
 'ov^ r-^ 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 V<S 
 
 V 
 
 .-.s- 
 
 
 
 ^^^•V. ^ 
 
 • S'-^', 
 
 "*ti* ".^^^^^' . "^ ^ 
 
 4,^ 
 
 
 
 \-, -^0^ 
 
 -*, * O M O ^V 
 
 
 ^^: 
 
 
 ^^-^^^ 
 
 •4 O 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 -0<b 
 
 <i^ 
 
 <^v. .-iV 
 
 
 •^t. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^•^-'' 
 
 ■f: 
 
 
 ^'~^^ * 
 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 A 
 
 
 ^. 
 
 -t > , s • » /• rrw