23 “The Second Shepherd’s Play”

[The First Shepherd enters.]

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Lord, but this weather is cold, and I am ill wrapped!

Nigh dazed, were the truth told, so long have I napped;

My legs under me fold; my fingers are chapped—

With such like I don’t hold, for I am all lapt

In sorrow.

In storms and tempest.

Now in the east, now in the west,

Woe is him has never rest

Midday nor morrow!

But we seely shepherds that walk on the moor,

In faith we’re nigh at hand to be put out of door.

No wonder, as it doth stand, if we be poor.

For the tilth of our land lies fallow as the floor,

As ye ken.

We’re so burdened and banned,

Over-taxed and unmanned.

We’re made tame to the hand

Of these gentry men.

Thus they rob us of our rest, our Lady them harry!

These men bound to their lords’ behest, they make the plough tarry,

What men say is for the best, we find the contrary,—

Thus are husbandmen oppressed, in point to miscarry,

In life,

Thus hold they us under

And from comfort sunder.

It were great wonder,

If ever we should thrive.

For if a man may get an embroidered sleeve or a brooch now-a-days,

Woe is him that may him grieve, or a word in answer says!

No blame may he receive, whatever pride he displays;

And yet may no man believe one word that he says,

Not a letter.

His daily needs are gained

By boasts and bragging feigned.

And in all he’s maintained

By men that are greater.

Proud shall come a swain as a peacock may go,

He must borrow my wain, my plough also.

Then I am full fain to grant it ere he go.

Thus live we in pain, anger, and woe

By night and day!

He must have it, if he choose.

Though I should it lose,

I were better hanged than refuse.

Or once say him nay!

It does me good as I walk thus alone

Of this world for to talk and to make my moan.

To my sheep will I stalk, and hearken anon,

There wait on a balk, or sit on a stone.

Full soon,

For I trow, pardie,

True men if they be,

We shall have company,

Ere it be noon.

[The First Shepherd goes out (or to one side). The Second Shepherd enters.]

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Ben’cite and Dominus! What may this mean?

Why fares the world thus! The like often we’ve seen!

Lord, but it is spiteful and grievous, this weather so keen!

And the frost so hideous—it waters mine een!

That’s no lie!

Now in dry, now in wet,

Now in snow, now in sleet.

When my shoes freeze to my feet,

It’s not all easy!

But so far as I ken, wherever I go,

We seely wedded men suffer mickle woe

We have sorrow once and again, it befalls oft so.

Seely Capel, our hen, both to and fro

She cackles.

But if she begins to croak.

To grumble or cluck,

Then woe be to our cock,

For he is in the shackles!

These men that are wed have not all their will;

When they’re full hard bestead, they sigh mighty still;

God knows the life they are led is full hard and full ill,

Nor thereof in bower or bed may they speak their will, This tide.

My share I have found,

Know my lesson all round,

Wo is him that is bound,

For he must it abide!

But now late in men’s lives (such a marvel to me

That I think my heart rives such wonders to see,

How that destiny drives that it should so be!)

Some men will have two wives and some men three

In store.

Some are grieved that have any,

But I’ll wager my penny

Woe is him that has many.

For he feels sore!

But young men as to wooing, for God’s sake that you bought.

Beware well of wedding, and hold well in thought,

“Had I known” is a thing that serves you nought.

Much silent sorrowing has a wedding home brought,

And grief gives,

With many a sharp shower—

For thou mayest catch in an hour

What shall taste thee full sour

As long as one lives!

For—if ever read I epistle!—I have one by my fire,

As sharp as a thistle, as rough as a briar,

She has brows like a bristle and a sour face by her;

If she had once wet her whistle, she might sing clearer and higher

Her pater-noster;

She is as big as a whale,

She has a gallon of gall,—

By him that died for us all,

I wish I had run till I had lost her!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

“God look over the row!” like a deaf man ye stand.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Yea, sluggard, the devil thy maw burn with his brand!

Didst see aught of Daw?

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Yea, on the pasture-land

I heard him blow just before; he comes nigh at hand

Below there.

Stand still.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Why?

FIRST SHEPHERD.

For he comes, hope I.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

He’ll catch us both with some lie

Unless we beware.

[The Third Shepherd enters, at first without seeing them.]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Christ’s cross me speed and St. Nicholas!

Thereof in sooth I had need, it is worse than it was.

Whoso hath knowledge, take heed, and let the world pass,

You may never trust it, indeed,—it’s as brittle as glass,

As it rangeth.

Never before fared this world so,

With marvels that greater grow,

Now in weal, now in woe,

And everything changeth.

There was never since Noah’s flood such floods seen,

Winds and rains so rude and storms so keen;

Some stammered, some stood in doubt, as I ween.—

Now God turn all to good, I say as I mean!

For ponder

How these floods all drown

Both in fields and in town,

And bear all down.

And that is a wonder!

We that walk of nights our cattle to keep,

[Catches sight of the others.]

We see startling sights when oilier men sleep.

Yet my heart grows more light—I see shrews a-peep.

Ye are two tall wights—I will give my sheep

A turn, below.

But my mood is ill-sent; As I walk on this bent,

I may lightly repent,

If I stub my toe.

Ah, Sir, God you save and my master sweet!

A drink I crave, and somewhat to eat.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Christ’s curse, my knave, thou’rt a lazy cheat!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Lo, the boy lists to rave! Wait till later for meat.

We have eat it.

Ill thrift on thy pate!

Though the rogue came late.

Yet is he in state

To eat, could he get it.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

That such servants as I, that sweat and swink,

Eat our bread full dry gives me reason to think.

Wet and weary we sigh while our masters wink,

Yet full late we come by our dinner and drink—

But soon thereto

Our dame and sire,

When we’ve run in the mire,

Take a nip from our hire.

And pay slow as they care to.

But hear my oath, master, since you find fault this way,

I shall do this hereafter—work to fit my pay;

I’ll do just so much, sir, and now and then play,

For never yet supper in my stomach lay

In the fields.

But why dispute so?

Off with staff I can go.

“Easy bargain,” men say,

“But a poor return yields.”

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Thou wert an ill lad for work to ride wooing

From a man that had but little for spending.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Peace, boy, I bade! No more jangling.

Or I’ll make thee full sad, by the Heaven’s King,

With thy gauds!

Where are our sheep, boy? Left lorn?

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Sir, this same day at morn,

I them left in the corn

When they rang Lauds.

They have pasture good, they cannot go wrong.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

That is right. By the Rood, these nights are long!

Ere we go now, I would someone gave us a song.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

So I thought as I stood, to beguile us along.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

I agree.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

The tenor I’ll try.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

And I the treble so high.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Then the mean shall be I.

How ye chant now, let’s see!

[They sing (the song is not given).]

[Tunc entrat Mak, in clamide se super togam vestitus.]

MAK.

Now, Lord, by thy seven names’ spell, that made both moon and stars on high,

Full more than I can tell, by thy will for me. Lord, lack I.

I am all at odds, nought goes well—that oft doth my temper try.

Now would God I might in heaven dwell, for there no children cry.

So still.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Who is that pipes so poor?

MAK.

Would God ye knew what I endure!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Lo, a man that walks on the moor.

And has not all his will!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Mak, whither dost speed? What news do you bring!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Is he come? Then take heed each one to his thing.

[Et accipit clamiden ah ipso.]

MAK.

What! I am a yeoman—since there’s need I should tell you—of the King,

That self-same, indeed, messenger from a great lording,

And the like thereby.

Fie on you! Go hence

Out of my presence!

I must have reverence.

And you ask “who am I!”

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Why dress ye it up so quaint? Mak, ye do ill!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

But, Mak, listen, ye saint, I believe what ye will!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

I trow the knave can feint, by the neck the devil him kill!

MAK.

I shall make complaint, and you’ll all get your fill, At a word from me—

And tell your doings, forsooth

FIRST SHEPHERD.

But, Mak, is that truth?

Now take out that southern tooth stick in a flea

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Mak, the devil be in your eye, verily! to a blow I’d fain treat you.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Mak, know you not me? By God, I could beat you!

MAK.

God keep you all three! Me thought I had seen you—I greet you.

Ye are a fair company!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Oh, now you remember, you cheat, you!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Shrew, jokes are cheap!

When thus late a man goes.

What will folk suppose?—

You’ve a bad name, God knows.

For stealing of sheep

MAK.

And true as steel am I, all men know and say,

But a sickness I feel, verily, that grips me hard, night and day.

My belly is all awry, it is out of play—

THIRD SHEPHERD.

“Seldom doth the Devil lie dead by the way—”

MAK.

Therefore

Full sore am I and ill,

Though I stand stone still;

I’ve not eat a needle

This month and more.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

How fares thy wife, by my hood, how fares she, ask I?

MAK.

Lies asprawl, by the Rood, lo, the fire close by,

And a house-full of home-brewed she drinks full nigh—

Ill may speed any good thing that she will try

Else to do!—

Eats as fast as may be,

And each year there’ll a day be

She brings forth a baby.

And some years two.

But were I now kinder, d’ye hear, and far richer in purse,

Still were I eaten clear out of house and home, sirs.

And she’s a foul-favored dear, see her close, by God’s curse!

No one knows or may hear, I trow, of a worse,

Not any!

Now will ye see what I proffer?—

To give all in my coffer,

To-morrow next to offer

Her head-mass penny.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Faith, so weary and worn is there none in this shire.

I must sleep, were I shorn of a part of my hire.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

I’m naked, cold, and forlorn, and would fain have a fire.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

I’m clean spent, for, since morn, I’ve run in the mire.

Watch thou, do!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Nay, I’ll lie down hereby.

For I must sleep, truly.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

As good a man’s son was I,

As any of you!

[They prepare to lie down.]

But, Mak, come lie here in between, if you please.

MAK.

You’ll be hindered, I fear, from talking at ease,

Indeed!

[He yields and lies down.]

From my top to my toe,

Manus tuas commendo,

Poncio Pilato,

Christ’s cross me speed!

Tunc siirgit, pastorihus dormientibus, et dicit:

Now ’twere time a man knew, that lacks what he’d fain hold,

To steal privily through then into a fold,

And then nimbly his work do—and be not too bold,

For his bargain he’d me, if it were told

At the ending

Now ’twere time their wrath to tell!—

But he needs good counsel

That fain would fare well,

And has but little for spending.

But about you a circle as round as a moon,

[He draws the circle.]

Till I have done what I will, till that it be noon.

That ye lie stone still, until I have done;

And I shall say thereto still, a few good words soon

Of might:

Over your heads my hand I lift.

Out go your eyes! Blind be your sight!

But I must make still better shift,

If it’s to be right.

Lord, how hard they sleep—that may ye all hear!

I never herded sheep, but I’ll learn now, that’s clear.

Though the flock be scared a heap, yet shall I slip near.

[He captures a sheep.]

Hey—hitherward creep! Now that betters our cheer

From sorrow.

A fat sheep, I dare say!

A good fleece, swear I may!

When I can, then I’ll pay,

But this I will borrow!

[Mak goes to his house, and knocks at the door.]

MAK.

Ho, Gill, art thou in? Get us a light!

GILL.

Who makes such a din at this time of night?

I am set for to spin, I think not I might

Rise a penny to win! Curses loud on them light

Trouble cause!

A busy house-wife all day

To be called thus away!

No work’s done, I say,

Because of such small chores!

MAK.

The door open, good Gill. See’st thou not what I bring?

GILL.

Draw the latch, an thou will. Ah, come in, my sweeting!

MAK.

Yea, thou need’st not care didst thou kill me with such long standing!

GILL.

By the naked neck still thou art likely to swing.

MAK.

Oh, get away!

I am worthy of my meat,

For at a pinch I can get

More than they that swink and sweat

All the long day.

Thus it fell to my lot, Gill! Such luck came my way!

GILL.

It were a foul blot to be hanged for it some day.

MAK.

I have often escaped, Gillot, as risky a play.

GILL.

But “though long goes the pot to the water,” men say,

“At last

Comes it home broken.”

MAK.

Well know I the token,

But let it never be spoken—

But come and help fast!

I would he were slain, I would like well to eat.

This twelvemonth was I not so fain to have some sheep’s meat.

GILL.

Should they come ere he’s slain and hear the sheep bleat—

MAK.

Then might I be ta’en. That were a cold sweat!

The door—

Go close it!

GILL.

Yes, Mak,—

For if they come at thy back—

MAK.

Then might I suffer from the whole pack The devil, and more!

GILL.

A good trick have I spied, since thou thinkest of none,

Here shall we him hide until they be gone—

In my cradle he’ll bide — just you let me alone—

And I shall lie beside in childbed and groan.

MAK.

Well said!

And I shall say that this night

A boy child saw the light.

GILL.

Now that day was bright

That saw me born and bred!

This is a good device and a far cast.

Ever a woman’s advice gives help at the last!

I care not who spies! Now go thou back fast!

MAK.

Save I come ere they rise, there’ll blow a cold blast!

[Mak goes back to the moor, and prepares to lie down.]

I will go sleep.

Still sleeps all this company,

And I shall slip in privily

As it had never been I

That carried off their sheep.

FIRST SHEPHERD..

Resurrex a mortruis! Reach me a hand!

Judas carnas dominus! I can hardly stand!

My foot’s asleep, by Jesus, and my mouth’s dry as sand.

I thought we had laid us full nigh to England!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Yea, verily!

Lord, but I have slept well.

As fresh as an eel,

As light do I feel.

As leaf on the tree.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Ben’cite be herein! So my body is quaking,

My heart is out of my skin with the to-do it’s making.

Who’s making all this din, so my head’s set to aching.

To the doer I’ll win! Hark, you fellows, be waking!

Four we were—

See ye aught of Mak now?

FIRST SHEPHERD.

We were up ere thou.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Man, to God I vow. Not once did he stir.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Methought he was lapt in a wolf’s skin.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

So many are happed now—namely within.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

When we had long napped, methought with a gin

A fat sheep he trapped, but he made no din.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Be still!

Thy dream makes thee mad,

It’s a nightmare you’ve had.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

God bring good out of bad,

If it be his will!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Rise, Mak, for shame! Right long dost thou lie.

MAK.

Now Christ’s Holy Name be with us for aye!

What’s this, by Saint James, I can’t move when I try.

I suppose I’m the same. Oo-o, my neck’s lain awry

Enough, perdie—

Many thanks!—since yester even.

Now, by Saint Stephen,

I was plagued by a sweven,

Knocked the heart of me.

I thought Gill begun to croak and travail full sad,

Well-nigh at the first cock, with a young lad

To add to our flock. Of that I am never glad,

I have “tow on my rock more than ever I had.”

Oh, my head!

A house full of young banes—

The devil knock out their brains!

Wo is him many gains.

And thereto little bread.

I must go home, by your leave, to Gill, as I thought.

Prithee look in my sleeve that I steal naught.

I am loath you to grieve, or from you take aught.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Go forth—ill may’st thou thrive! [Mak goes.]

Now I would that we sought This morn,

That we had all our store.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

But I will go before.

Let us meet.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Where, Daw?

THIRD SHEPHERD.

At the crooked thorn.

[They go out. Mak enters and knocks at his door.]

MAK.

Undo the door, see who’s here ! How long must I stand?

GILL.

Who’s making such gear? Now “walk in the wen-yand.”

MAK.

Ah, Gill, what cheer? It is I, Mak, your husband.

GILL.

Then may we see here the devil in a band, Sir Guile!

Lo, he comes with a note

As he were held by the throat.

And I cannot devote

To my work any while.

MAK.

Will ye hear the pother she makes to get her a gloze—

Naught but pleasure she takes, and curls up her toes.

GILL.

Why, who runs, who wakes, who comes, who goes,

Who brews, who bakes, what makes me hoarse, d’ye suppose!

And also,

It is ruth to behold.

Now in hot, now in cold,

Full woeful is the household

That no woman doth know!

But what end hast thou made with the shepherds, Mak?

MAK.

The last word that they said when I turned my back

Was they’d see that they had of their sheep all the pack.

They’ll not be pleased, I’m afraid, when they their sheep lack, Perdie.

But how so the game go,

They’ll suspect me, whether or no,

And raise a great bellow.

And cry out upon me.

But thou must use thy sleight.

GILL.

Yea, I think it not ill.

I shall swaddle him alright in my cradle with skill.

Were it yet a worse plight, yet a way I’d find still.

[Gill meanwhile swaddles the sheep and places him in the cradle.]

I will lie down forthright. Come tuck me up.

MAC.

That I will.

GILL.

Behind!

[Mak tucks her in at the hack.]

If Coll come and his marrow,

They will nip us full narrow.

MAK.

But I may cry out “Haro,”

The sheep if they find.

GILL.

Hearken close till they call—they will come anon.

Come and make ready all, and sing thou alone—

Sing lullaby, thou shalt, for I must groan

And cry out by the wall on Mary and John

Full sore.

Sing lullaby on fast,

When thou hear’st them at last,

And, save I play a shrewd cast,

Trust me no more.

[The Shepherds enter on the moor and meet.]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Ah, Coll, good morn! Why sleepest thou not?

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Alas, that ever I was born! We have a foul blot.

A fat wether have we lorn.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Marry, God forbid, say it not!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Who should do us that scorn? That were a foul spot.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Some shrew.

I have sought with my dogs

All Horbury Shrogs,

And of fifteen hogs

Found I all but one ewe.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Now trust me, if you will, by Saint Thomas of Kent,

Either Mak or Gill their aid thereto lent!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Peace, man, be still! I saw when he went.

Thou dost slander him ill. Thou shouldest repent

At once, indeed!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

So may I thrive, perdie,

Should I die here where I be,

I would say it was he

That did that same deed!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Go we thither, quick sped, and run on our feet,

I shall never eat bread till I know all complete!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Nor drink in my head till with him I meet.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

In no place will I bed until I him greet,

My brother!

One vow I will plight,

Till I see him in sight,

I will ne’er sleep one night

Where I do another!

[They go to Mak’s house. Mak, hearing them coming, begins to sing lullaby at the top of his voice, while Gill groans in concert]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Hark the row they make! List our sire there croon!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Never heard I voice break so clear out of tune.

Call to him.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Mak, wake there! Undo your door soon!

MAK.

Who is that spake as if it were noon?

Aloft?

Who is that, I say?

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Good fellows, if it were day—

[MOCKING MAK.]

MAK.

As far as ye may,

Kindly, speak soft;

O’er a sick woman’s head in such grievous throes!

I were liefer dead than she should suffer such woes.

GILL.

Go elsewhere, well sped. Oh, how my pain grows—

Each footfall ye tread goes straight through my nose

So loud, woe’s me!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Marry, some men trow that ye were,

And that makes us think!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Mak, one and another trows it should be ye.

THIRD SHEPERD.

Either ye or your spouse, so say we.

MAK.

Now if aught suspicion throws on Gill or me.

Come and search our house, and then may ye see

Who had her—

If I any sheep got.

Or cow or stot;

And Gill, my wife, rose not.

Here since we laid her.

As I am true and leal, to God, here I pray

That this is the first meal that I shall eat this day.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Mak, as may I have weal, advise thee, I say—

“He learned timely to steal that could not say nay.”

GILL.

Me, my death you’ve dealt!

Out, ye thieves, nor come again,

Ye’ve come just to rob us, that’s plain.

MAK.

Hear ye not how she groans amain—

Your hearts should melt!

GILL.

From my child, thieves, begone. Go nigh him not,—there’s the door!

MAK.

If ye knew all she’s borne, your hearts would be sore.

Ye do wrong, I you warn, thus to come in before

A woman that has borne—but I say no more.

GILL.

Oh, my middle—I die!

I vow to God so mild,

If ever I you beguiled,

That I will eat this child

That doth in this cradle lie!

MAK.

Peace, woman, by God’s pain, and cry not so.

Thou dost hurt thy brain and fill me with woe.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

I trow our sheep is slain. What find ye two, though? Our work’s all in vain. We may as well go.

Save clothes and such matters

I can find no flesh

Hard or nesh,

Salt nor fresh.

Except two empty platters.

Of any “cattle” but this, tame or wild, that we see,

None, as may I have bliss, smelled as loud as he.

GILL.

No, so God joy and bliss of my child may give me!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

We have aimed amiss; deceived, I trow, were we.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Sir, wholly each, one.

Sir, Our Lady him save!

Is your child a knave?

MAK.

Any lord might him have,

This child, for his son.

When he wakes, so he grips, it’s a pleasure to see.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Good luck to his hips, and blessing, say we!

But who were his gossips, now tell who they be?

MAK.

Blest be their lips—

[Hesitates, at a loss.]

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Hark a lie now, trust me! [Aside.]

MAK.

So may God them thank.

Parkin and Gibbon Waller, I say.

And gentle John Horn, in good fey— H

e made all the fun and play—

With the great shank.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Mak, friends will we be, for we are at one.

MAK.

We!—nay, count not on me, for amends get I none.

Farewell, all three! Glad ’twill be when ye’re gone!

[The Shepherds go.]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

“Fair words there may be, but love there is none

This year.”

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Gave ye the child anything?

SECOND SHEPHERD.

I trow, not one farthing.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Fast back I will fling.

Await ye me here.

[DAW GOES BACK. THE OTHER SHEPHERDS TURN AND FOLLOW HIM SLOWLY, ENTERING WHILE HE IS TALKING WITH MAK.]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Mak, I trust thou’lt not grieve, if I go to thy child.

MAK.

Nay, great hurt I receive,—thou hast acted full wild.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Thy bairn ’twill not grieve, little day-star so mild,

Mak, by your leave, let me give your child

But six-pence.

[Daw goes to cradle, and starts to draw away the covering]

MAK.

Nay, stop it—he sleeps!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Methinks he peeps—

MAK.

When he wakens, he weeps;

I pray you go hence!

[The other Shepherds return.]

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Give me leave him to kiss, and lift up the clout.

What the devil is this?—he has a long snout!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

He’s birth-marked amiss. We waste time hereabout.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

“A weft that ill-spun is comes ever foul out.”

[He sees the sheep.]

Aye—so!

He is like to, our sheep!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Ho, Gib, may I peep?

FIRST SHEPHERD.

I trow “Nature will creep

Where it may not go.”

SECOND SHEPHERD.

This was a quaint gaud and a far cast.

It was a high fraud.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Yea, sirs, that was’t.

Let’s burn this bawd, and bind her fast.

“A false scold,” by the Lord, “will hang at the last!”

So shalt thou!

Will ye see how they swaddle

His four feet in the middle!

Saw I never in the cradle

A horned lad ere now!

MAK.

Peace, I say! Tell ye what, this to-do ye can spare!

[Pretending anger.]

It was I him begot and yon woman him bare.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

What the devil for name has he got? Mak?—

Lo, God, Mak’s heir!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Come, joke with him not. Now, may God give him care, I say!

GILL.

A pretty child is he

As sits on a woman’s knee,

A dilly-down, perdie,

To make a man gay.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

I know him by the ear-mark—that is a good token.

MAK.

I tell you, sirs, hark, his nose was broken—

Then there told me a clerk he’d been mis-spoken.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Ye deal falsely and dark; I would fain be wroken.

Get a weapon,—go!

GILL.

He was taken by an elf,

I saw it myself.

When the clock struck twelve.

Was he mis-shapen so.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Ye two are at one, that’s plain, in all ye’ve done and said.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Since their theft they maintain, let us leave them dead!

MAK.

If I trespass again, strike off my head!

At your will I remain.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Sirs, take my counsel instead.

For this trespass

We’ll neither curse nor wrangle in spite,

Chide nor fight.

But have done forthright,

And toss him in canvas.

[They toss Mak in one of Gill’s canvas sheets till they are tired. He disappears groaning into his house. The Shepherds pass over to the moor on the other side of the stage.]

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Lord, lo! but I am sore, like to burst, in back and breast.

In faith, I may no more, therefore will I rest.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Like a sheep of seven score he weighed in my fist.

To sleep anywhere, therefore seemeth now best.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Now I you pray,

On this green let us lie.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

O’er those thieves yet chafe I.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Let your anger go by,—

Come do as I say.

[As they are about to lie down the Angel appears.]

Angelas cantat “Gloria in excelsis .’’ Postea dicat: Angeliis .

Rise, herdsmen gentle, attend ye, for now is he born

From the fiend that shall rend what Adam had lorn.

That warlock to shend, this night is he born,

God is made your friend now on this morn.

Lo! thus doth he command—

Go to Bethlehem, see

Where he lieth so free,

In a manger full lowly

‘Twixt where twain beasts stand.

[The Angel goes.]

FIRST SHEPHERD.

This was a fine voice, even as ever I heard.

It is a marvel, by St. Stephen, thus with dread to be stirred.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

’Twas of God’s Son from heaven he these tidings averred.

All the wood with a levin, methought at his word

Shone fair.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Of a Child did he tell.

In Bethlehem, mark ye well.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

That this star yonder doth spell—

Let us seek him there.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Say, what was his song—how it went, did ye hear?

Three breves to a long—

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Marry, yes, to my ear

There was no crotchet wrong, naught it lacked and full clear!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

To sing it here, us among, as he nicked it, full near,

I know how—

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Let’s see how you croon!

Can you bark at the moon?

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Hold your tongues, have done!

Hark after me now! [They sing.]

SECOND SHEPHERD.

To Bethlehem he bade that we should go.

I am sore adrad that we tarry too slow.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Be merry, and not sad—our song’s of mirth not of woe,

To be forever glad as our meed may we know.

Without noise.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Hie we thither, then, speedily,

Though we be wet and weary,

To that Child and that Lady I—

We must not lose those joys!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

We find by the prophecy—let be your din!—

David and Isaiah, and more that I mind me therein,

They prophesied by clergy, that in a virgin,

Should he alight and lie, to assuage our sin,

And slake it,

Our nature, from woe,

For it was Isaiah said so,

“Ecce virgo

Concipiet” a child that is naked.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Full glad may we be and await that day

That lovesome one to see, that all mights doth sway.

Lord, well it were with me, now and for aye,

Might I kneel on my knee some word for to say

To that child.

But the angel said

In a crib was he laid,

He was poorly arrayed,

Both gracious and mild.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Patriarchs that have been and prophets beforne,

They desired to have seen this child that is born.

They are gone full clean,—that have they lorn.

We shall see him, I ween, ere it be morn,

For token.

When I see him and feel,

I shall know full well.

It is true as steel,

What prophets have spoken,

To so poor as we are that he would appear.

First find and declare by his messenger.

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Go we now, let us fare, the place is us near.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

I am ready and eager to be there; let us together with cheer

To that bright one go.

Lord, if thy will it be.

Untaught are we all three.

Some kind of joy grant us, that we

Thy creatures, comfort may know!

[They enter the stable and adore the infant Saviour.]

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Hail, thou comely and clean one! Hail, young Child!

Hail, Maker, as I mean, from a maiden so mild!

Thou hast harried, I ween, the warlock so wild,—

The false beguiler with his teen now goes beguiled.

Lo, he merries,

Lo, he laughs, my sweeting!

A happy meeting!

Here’s my promised greeting,—

Have a bob of cherries!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Hail, sovereign Saviour, for thou hast us sought!

Hail, noble nursling and flower, that all things hast wrought!

Hail, thou, full of gracious power, that made all from nought!

Hail, I kneel and I cower! A bird have I brought

To my bairn from far.

Hail, little tiny mop!

Of our creed thou art the crop,

I fain would drink in thy cup,

Little day-star!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Hail, darling dear one, full of Godhead indeed!

I pray thee be near, when I have need.

Hail, sweet is thy cheer! My heart would bleed

To see thee sit here in so poor a weed,

With no pennies.

Hail, put forth thy dall,

I bring thee but a ball.

Keep it, and play with it withal,

And go to the tennis.

Maria.

The Father of Heaven this night, God omnipotent.

That setteth all things aright, his Son hath he sent.

My name he named and did light on me ere that he went.

I conceived him forthright through his might as he meant,

And now he is born.

May he keep you from woe!

I shall pray him do so.

Tell it, forth as ye go.

And remember this morn.

FIRST SHEPHERD.

Farewell, Lady, so fair to behold

With thy child on thy knee!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

But he lies full cold!

Lord, ’tis well with me! Now we go, behold!

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Forsooth, already it seems to be told

Full oft!

FIRST SHEPHERD.

What grace we have found!

SECOND SHEPHERD.

Now are we won safe and sound.

THIRD SHEPHERD.

Come forth, to sing are we bound.

Make it ring then aloft!

[They depart singing.]

Explicit pagina Pastorum

This material is from British Literature: Middle Ages to the Eighteenth Century and Neoclassicism by Bonnie J. Robinson from the University System of Georgia, which is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.