The Paynters and the Glasiors Playe

Incipit pagina septima de pastoribus

From the shrewde scabe it soughte,13
Or the rotte, yf yt were wroughte,
Yf the caughe had them caughte,
Of yt I coulde them heale.
Loe, here be my erbes safe and sounde,
Wislye wrought for everye wounde,
The woulde a wholl man bringe to grounde19
Within a littill while;
Of henbane and horehounde,
Bybbey raydishe and egremounde,
Which be my erbes saffe and sounde,
Medled on a rowe.

Here be more erbes, I tell it you,25
I shall recken them on a rooe,
Fynter fanter, and ffetter foe,
And also penye wrytte.
This is all that I knowe,
For be it weither or be it yoo,
I shall them heale on a rooe,31
Cleane from their hurte.
Heare is tarre in a potte,
To heale from the rotte;
Well I can and well I wotte
The caughe from them take.

But no fellowshippe heare have I,37
Save my selfe alone in good faye;
Therfore after one faste will I crye,
But firste will I drinke, yf I maie.

Hic potet Primus Pastor

Howe, Harvye, howe!
Drive thy sheepe to the lowe;
Thou maye not heare excepte I blowe,43
As ever have I heale.

Hic flabit Primus Pastor

Felowe, nowe we be well mete,49
And thoughe me thinkes nedes,
Hade we Tudde heare by us sette,
Their mighte we sitte and feede us.

Naye, faye, thy voyce is wounderous dynie;58
Why, knowes thou not hym?
Fye, man, for shame!
Calle hym Tudde Tybbes sonne,
And then will the shrewe come,
For, in good faith, it is his wonne
To love well his dames name.64

Howe, Tudde, Tybbes sonne!65

Sir, in faith nowe I come,66
For yette have I not all done
That I have to doe;
To seithe salve for our sheepe;
And leste my wife shoulde it weete,
With grete gravill and greete
I skoure an oulde pane.72

Hemlocke and hereife take kepe,73
With tarre boyste muste be tamde,
Penye gresse and butter for fatte sheepe,
For this saulfe am I not ashamed;
Ashamed am I not to shewe
No poynte that longes to my crafte,
No better that I well knowe79
In lande is no where lefte.
For to good men this is not unknowne,
To husbandes that be heare aboutes,
That iche man muste to his wife bowne,
And commonlye for feare of a cloute.

This for clowtes nowe care I,85
All is for feare of our dame Kenye,
Nowe will I caste my ware here by,
And hye faste that I were at Hancken.
Hancken, houlde up thy hande, and have me,
That I were on heighte their by thee.

Gladlye, sir, yf thou woulde be by me,91
For lothe me is to denye thee.

Nowe seinge God hath gaithred us togeither,93
With good harte I thanke hym of his grace.
Wellckome be thou well fayer weither,
Tudde, will we shape us to some solace.

Solace woulde beste be seene97
That we shape us to our suppere;
For meate and drinke well, I wene,
To eiche deede is moste deare.

Laye fourth iche man aleiche101
What he hath lefte of his livereye;
And I will put fourth my piche,
With my parte, firste of us all three.

And heare ale of Halton I have,113
And whotte meate I hade to my hier;
A puddinge maye no man deprave,
And a jannacke of Lancaster shire.
Loe! heares a sheepes heade sawsed in ale,
And a grayne to laye on the greene,
And sower mylke my wife hade ordened,119
A noble supper as well is seene.

Nowe will I caste of my cloke,121
And put out parte of my liverye,
And put out that I have in my pocke,
And a gygges foote from puddinge purye.

Abyde, fellowes, and you shall see here125
This hotte meate serveid here,
Gammons and other good meate in feare,
A puddinge with a pricke in the ende.

My secchell to shake oute129
To sheapardes am I not ashamed;
And this tonge pared rounde aboute,
With my tonge it shalbe atamed.

Tunc comedent, et dicat Primus Pastor:

Byd me doe gladly, and I thee,
For by god here is good grawsinge.
Come eate with vs, god of heaven hye,135
But take noe heede though ther be noe howsinge.

Howseinge enoffe have we heare,137
While that we have heaven over our heades
Nowe to weete our mouthes tyme were,
This flagette will I tame, yf thou reade us.

And of this bottill nowe will I bibbe,141
For heare is but of the beste;
Suche liccore makes me to live,
This game maye nowher be leftc.

Fellowes, nowe our bellye be full,145
Thinke we on hym that kepes our flockes.
Blowe thy home and [call] after Trowle,
And byde hym some of our bittlockes.

Well sayde, Hancken, by my south,149
For that shrewe I suppose seekes us.
My horne to blowe I will not lette,
Tell that ladde have some of our leekes.

Leekes to his livereye is likinge,153
Suche a lade nowher in lande is.
Blowe a mote for that mittinge,
Whyle that home nowe in thy hande is.

With this home I shall make a howe157
That he and all heaven shall heare;
Yender ladde, that sittes on a lowe,
The lowde of this home shall heare.

Tunc cantabit, et dicat Trowle:

Good Lorde, loke one me!161
And my flocke heare as the feed have;
On this woulde walke we woe,
Are no man heare that maye,
All is playne perdye;
Therfore, sheepe, we mone goe,
No better maye be167
Of beastes that bloode and bone have.

Wotte I not daie nor nighte,169
Necessaryes that to me ne done,
Tarre boyste and tarre boyle
Ye shall see heare,
Nettell, hemlocke, and butter abydinge,
And my good dogge Dottinoule,
That is nothinge choyse of his chydinge.175
Yf any man come me bye,
And woulde witte which waie were beste,
My legge I leifte up as I lye,
And wishe hym the waie este or weste.

And I rose when I laye,180
I woulde thinke that travill loste.
For kinge nor ducke by this daie
Rise I will not, but take my reste.
Nowe here sitte downe I will,
Harmles, as I hastelye hope;
No man heare shall drinke,186
Save my selfe, the devill of the sope.
All this bottill I sette at littill,
Naye, ye lades, kepe I not to lye thee;
For ye have manye a fowle fitte,
Thou fowle fylth, though thou flitte, I defye thee.

Fye on your loynes and on youer livereye!196
Youer lyverastes, livers and lounges!
You sause, your saustes, your saverye,
Your sittinge without anye songes.
On this hill I houlde me heare,
No hape to your hotte meate have I;
But sitte with my fellowes in freye,202
And your sheepe full securlye save I.

For thou saves our sheepe,204
Good knave, take kepe;
Seith thou maye not slepe,
Come eate of this sauce.

Naye, the durte is so depe208
Stopped theirin for to stepe,
And the grobbes theiron doe crepe
At whom at thy howse.
Therfore meate, yf I maie,
Of your dightinge to daie
Will I naughte, by no waie,214
Tell I have my wages.
I wende to have been gaye:
Se so ragged is myne araye,
Aye pynckes is your paye
To everye poore page.

Trowle, boye, for Godes fee!220
Come eate a morscill with me,
And then wrastill will we
Here on this greene.

That shall I never fleye,224
Though yt be with all three,
To laye my livereye,
That wages will I houlde.

Tunc ibit ad magistros suos, et dicat Trowle:

Nowe comes Trowle the trewe,228
A turne to take have I tighte
With my maistores, or I rewe,
Put hym fourth that moste is of mighte.

Trowle, better never thou knewe,232
Eate of this meate for a knighte.

Naye, spare I will, thoughe I spewe,234
All upon thy heade shall lighte.

Howe shoulde we suffer all this shame,236
Of a shrewe this to be shente?

This ladde luste to be lamde,238
And lose a lyme or he wente.

Have done, begyne we this game,240
But ware leste your golions glette.
That were littill dole to our dame,
Though in meideste Dde the were drente.

False lade, fye on thy face,244
On this grounde thou shalte have a falle.
Hente one and houlde that thou haste,
Yf thou hape have all goe to all.

And these sires heare to solace,248
Hancken, sheaparde, shame thee I shall;
Worth thou arte worse then thou was,
Ware leste thou walte here by the walle.

Tunc projiciat primum pastorem, et dicat Secundus Pastor:

Boye, leste I breake thy bones,252
Kneele downe and aske me a bone,
Leste I destroye thee heare on thes stones:
Cease, leaste I shame thee to sone.

++++256

Gloe thee to greynes and groundes,257
Good were thee thy oulde ragges to save sounde;
Littill doute of suche drownes,
Leither tycke, for thy deedes are done.

Out, alas! he lyes on his loynes,261
But let me goe nowe to that lade!
Sheapardes he shames and shyndes,
For laste nowe am I out shade.

Bouth your backes heare to me bendes,265
For all your boste I houlde you full bade;
Houlde your ersces and your hynder loynes,
Then hope I to have as I to-fore hade,
The better in the bore, as I hade before,
Of this boverte.
Yea, hope I more, kepe well thy store,271
For feare of a farte.

Tunc projiciat tertium pastorem, et dicat Trowle:

Lye their, leither in the lacke,273
My livereye nowe will [I] lache;
This curye, this cloute, and this cake,
For ye be caste nowe will I kache.
To the devill I all you betake,
And traytors ataynte of your tache,
One this woulde with this will I walke,279
All the worlde wounder on the wache.

Et sic recedat Trowle, et dicat Primus Pastor:

Fellowes, this a fowle case is,281
That we bene this caste out of a knave;
All againste our willes he hase his,
But I muste nedes houlde the harme that I have,

That I have nedes muste I houlde,285
Of thes unhappye harmes ofte here I:
Therfore will I wayte on this woulde
Upon the wedder, for I am wearye.

Thoughe we be weayrie, no wounder,289
What betwene wrastlin^e and walkinge!
Ofte we maye be in thoughte, we be nowe under,
God amende yt with his makinge!

Tunc sedebunt, et Stella apparebit, et dicant:

What is all this lighte here,293
That blackes so brighte heare,
On my blacke beyrde?
For to see this lighte heare,
A man maye be afrighte heare,
For I am freayde.

Freayde, for a fraye nowe,299
Maye we be all nowe,
A! yet it is nighte,
Yet seemes yt daie nowe,
Se I suche a sighte!

Suche a sighte seeminge,304
And a lighte leminge,
Lettes me to loke;
All to my deeminge,
From a starre streminge
Hit to me strocke.

That starre, yf yt stande,310
To see will I founde,
Though mighte lighte fayle:
While I maye live in londe,
Why shoulde I founde,
Yf it will avayle?

Tunc respiciens firmamentum, et dicat Trowle:

A! God mighte is,316
In vender starre lighte is,
Of the sonne this sighte is,
As yt nowe sheines.

It seemes as I nowe see320
A brighte starre to be,
Their to abyde.
From it we maye not fleye,
But aye glye on the glee,
Tell yt downe glyde.

Fellowes, will we326
Knele downe on our knye,
After comfortes,
To the trewe Trenitie,
For to leade us to see
Our elderes Lorde.

Our Lorde will us lere332
In our prayer,
Wherto it will apente,
And why on highte here
The eayre is so cleare,
Nowe shall we be kente.

Lorde, of this lighte338
Guyde us some sighte,
Why that it is sente.
Before this nighte,
Was I never so afrighte
Of the fermamente.

Wyste I, by my faye!344
Nowe is yt nighe daie,
So was it never;
Therfore I praye
The south us to saie,
Or that we desevere.

Tunc cantet angelus, Gloria in eoccelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bone voluntatis

Fellowes in feare,350
Maye you not heare
This muttinge on heighte?

A glore and in glere,353
Yet no man was nere
Within our sighte.

Naye, it was a glorye!356
Nowe am I sorye,
But more songe.

Of this strange storye359
Such mirth more I
Woulde have amonge.

Scellsis it seemed363
That he sange.

While the lighte lemed,365
Awreckinge me wened,
I wiste never woo.

What songe was this, saye ye,368
That the sange to us all three!
Expounded shall yt be,
Or we hense passe;
For I am eldeste of degree,
And also beste, as seemes me:
Hit was glore glare with a glee,374
Hit was nether more nor lesse.

Nay, it was glori, glory, glorious!376
Me thoughte that note ronne over the howse:
A semlye man he was and curyous,
But sone awaie he was.

Naye, it was glory, glory, with a glo!380
And moche of cellsis was therto:
As ever have I reste or roo,
Moche he spake of glasse.

Naye, yt was nether glasse nor glye;384
Therfore, fellowe, nowe stande by.

Naye, he came by nighte, all thinge lefte,390
Our tuppes with tarre to tell.

Nay, on a glore, on a glory, on a glye!392
Gurde Gabrill, when he so gloryed;
When he sange I mighte not be sorye,
Througe my breste bone bletinge he borned.

Nay, be God! it was a gloria,396
Sayde Gabrill when he beganne so,
He hade a moche better voyce then I have,
As in heaven all other have so.

Will ye heare howe he sange selsis?400
For on that sadlye he sete hym,
Neither singes Sir, nor so well Sis,
Ney paxe merye Maude when she so met hym.

One tyme he touched on terre,404
And therto I toke good intente;
All heaven mighte not a gone harre,
That noote on heighte when he up hente.

And after of paxe or of peace,408
Up as pye he piped,
Suche a loden that is no lesse,
Never in my life me so liked.

Upon omnibus he mutted,412
That moch marville to me was,
And ever I quocke when the so shouted,
I durst not heade wher that it was.

Yet he sange more then all this;416
Froo my mynde it shall not starte,
For he sange Bene voluntatis,
That is a crape that passeth all other.

Yet [and] yet, he sange more to,420
Froo my harte it shall not starte;
He sange also of a Deo,
Me thoughte healed my harte.
And that worde Terre he tamed,
Therto I toke good intente,
And paxe also maye not be blamed,426
For that to this songe I assente.

Nowe praye we to hym with good intente,428
And singe I will and me imbrace,
That he will let us to be kente,
And to sende us of his grace.

Nowe seith I have all my will,432
For never in this worlde so well hase,
Singe we nowe I redde us shrille,
A merye songe us to solace.

Singe we nowe, lettes see,436
Some songe will I assaye:
All men nowe singe after me,
For musicke of me learne you maie.

Singe troly loly troly loe.

Tunc cantabunt, et postea dicat Tercius Pastor:

Nowe wende we fourth to Beathlem,440
That ys beste our songe to be,
To see the starre cleane maye,
The frute of that mayden freye.

Nowe folowe we the starre that shyneth,444
Tell we come to that hollye stable;
To Bethelem bonne the lymes,
Folowe we it without anye fable.

Folowe we it, and hies full faste,448
Suche a frende loth us to fayle;
Lanche on, I will not be the laste,
Upon Marye for to marvayle.

Hic vadunt versus Bethlem.

Stynte nowe, goe no more steppes,452
For nowe the starre begineth to stonde;
Harvye, that bene our good happes,
We seene by our Savyour founde.

Hic apparet et dicat angelus:

Sheapardes, of this sighte456
Be ye not afrighte,
For this is Grodes mighte,
Take this in mynde:
To Bethelem nowe righte,
Ther you shall se in sighte,
That Christe is borne to nighte,462
To ken all mankinde.

To Bethlem take we the waye,464
For with you I thinke to wende,
That Prince of peace for to praye,
Heaven to have at our ende.
And singe we all, I rede,
Some mirth to his magistie;
For certen nowe sheewe it in deed,470
The kinges sonne of heaven is he.

Sym, Sym, sickerlye472
Heare I see Marye,
And Jesus Christe faste by,
Lapped in haye.

Kneyle we downe in hye,476
And praye we hym of mercye,
And welckome hym worthelye,
That wo dose awaie.

Awaye all our wo is,480
And many mans moe is!
Christe Lorde, let us kysse
The crache or the clothes.

Solace nowe, to see this,484
Buildes in my breste blesse,
Never after to doe amysse
Thinges that hym looth is.

Whatever this oulde man that heare is,488
Take heede howe his head is whore,
His beirde is like a buske of breyers,
With a pound of heaire about his mouth and more.

More is this marvayle to me nowe,492
For to nape greatlye hym nedes;
Hartles is he nowe
For aye to his heales he heedes.

Why, with his beirde, though it hydes,496
Righte well to her he heedes;
Worthy wighte, witte woulde,
Will we warne us worthye.

Sheapardes, southlye I see500
That my sonne you heither sente,
Through Godes mighte in magistie,
That in me lighte and heare is lente.
This man maried was to me,
For no syne ner suche assente,
But to kepe my virginitie,506
And trewlye for no other intente.

Good men, Moyses takes in mynde,508
As he was made through God allmighte,
Ordeyned lawes us to byncle,
Which that we shoulde kepe of righte,
Man and woman for to bynde,
Lawfullye them bouth to lighte,
To frutifye, as men maye fynde,514
That tyme was wedded everye wighte.

Therfore wedded to her I was,516
As lawe woulde, her for to lere,
For noyse, nor sclaunder, nor treasspas,
And through that deed the devill to dare;
As toulde me Gabrill full of grace,
When I hade trussed all my geyer,
To have flede and never to have seene her face,522
By hym was I areaisted their.

For he sayde to me sleapinge524
That shee lackles was of synne;
And when I harde that tockeninge,
From her durste I not tweyne.
Therfore goes fourth, preach this thinge,
All togeither and not in twene,
That you have seene youer heavenlye kinge530
Comen, and all mankinde to myne.

Greate God, sittinge in thy throne,532
That made all thinges of naughte,
Nowe we maie thanke thee icheone,
This is he that we have soughte.

Naye, ye be father of age,542
Therfore ye muste offer.

Heale, kinge of heaven so hie!544
Borne in a crebe,
Mankinde unto thee
Thou haste made fullye.

Heale, kinge! borne in a maydens bower,548
Proffittes did tell thou shouldest be our succore,
Thus clarkes doth saye.
Loe, I bringe thee a bell:
I praie thee save me from hell,
So that I maye with thee dwell,
And serve thee for [aye].554

Heale the, emperower of hell,555
And of heaven allsoe!
The feynde shall thee fell,
That ever hath bene false.

Heale the, maker of the starre,559
That stode us beforne;
Heale the, blessed full barne,
Loe, sonne, I bringe thee a flaggette,
Theirby heinges a sponne,
To eate thy pottage with all at nonne,
As I my selfe full ofte tymes have done,565
With harte I praie thee to take.

Heale, prince without anye peare,567
That mankinde shall releeve!
Heale thee, froo unto Luciffier,
The which begyled Eve!

Heale the, granter of happe,571
For in yeairth no we thou dwelleste.
Loe, sonne, I bringe thee a cape,
For I have nothinge elles:
This gueifte, sonne, I bringe thee is but small,
And though I come the hyndmoste of all,
When thou shall them to thy blesse call,577
Good Lorde, yet thinke on me.

My dere, with dutye unto thee I me dresse,579
My state and felloshippe that I doe not lose,
For to save me from all yle sicknes,
I offer unto thee a payer of my wifes oulde hose;
For other dremes, my sonne,
Have I non for to geve,
That is worth anye thinge at all,585
But my good harte, while I live,
And my prayers tell death doe me call.

Nowe to my fellowes this will I saye,588
For in this place or that I wende awaie,
Unto yender childe let us goe and praye,
As our maisters hath done us beforne.

And of suche goodes as we have heare592
Let us offer to this prince so deare,
And to his mother that mayden cleare,
That of her bodye hade bene borne.

Abyde, syres, I will goe firste to yender kinge.596

And I will goe nexte to that lordinge.597

Then wilbe I the laste of this offeringe,598
This can I saie no more.

Nowe, Lorde, for to geve thee have I nothinge,600
Nether goulde, silver, bruche, ner ringe,
Nor no riche robes mete for a kinge,
That I have heare in store:
But that yt lackes a stoppell,
Take thee heare my well [fayer] bottill,
For it will houlde a good pottill,606
In faith, I can geve thee no more.

Lorde, thou arte of this virgine borne,608
In full poore araye sittinge on her arme,
For to offer to thee I have no skorne,
Allthough thou be but a childe;
For jewell have I non to geve thee,
For to mantayne thy royall dignitie,
But my hude, then take it thee,614
As thou arte god and man.

O, noble childe of thee!616
Alas! what have I for thee,
Save onlye my pipe?
Elles trewlye nothinge,
Were I in the rockes or in,
I coulde make this pippe,
That all this woode shoulde ringe,622
And quiver, as yt were.

Nowe, childe, allthough thou be comon from God,624
And be God thy selfe in thy manhoode,
Yet I knowe that in thy childehoode
Thou wylte for sweete meate loke,
To pull downe aples, peares, and plumes,
Oulde Joseph shall not nede to hurte his thombes,
Because thou hast not pleintie of crombes,630
I geve thee heare my nutthocke.

Nowe fare well, mother and maye,632
For of synne naughte thou wotteste,
Thou haste brought fourth this daie
Godes sonne of mighteste moste.
Wherfore men shall saye,
Blessed in everye coste and place
Be thou memoriall for me and for us all.638
And that we maie from syne fall,
And stande ever in thy grace,
Our Lorde God be with thee.

Brethren, let us all three642
Singinge walke whomwardes;
Unkinde will I in no case be,
But preache ever that I can and crye,
As Gabryll taughte by his grace me,
Singinge awaye hense will I.

Over the sea, and I maye have grace,648
I will henge and aboute goe nowe,
To preache this in everye place,
And sheepe will I kepe non nowe.

I redde we us agree652
For our misdeedes amendes to make;
For so nowe I will,
And to that childe whollye me betake;
For ever sickerlie
Sheaphardes crafte heare I forsake,
And to an ancker heare by,658
I will in my prayers wache and wake.

And I am heare meke660
To praise God to paie,
To walke by style and streete,
In wyldernes to walke ever;
And I will no man meete,
But for my livinge I shall them praie,
Barefoote on my feete,666
And this will I live ever and aye.

For aye ever ones,668
This worlde I fullye refuce,
My misse to amende with mones.
Torne to thy felowes and kisse,
I eylde, for in youth
We have bene felowes, i-wysse,
Therfore lende us your mouthe,674
And frendlye let us kisse.

From London to Louth676
Suche another sheaparde I not were.
Bouth framed and couth,
God grante you, amen.

To that blesse bringe you,680
Greate God, if thy wilbe.
Amen all singe you:
Good men, fares well!

Well for to fare iche frende,684
God of his mighte grante you;
For heare nowe we make an ende,
Fare well, for we goe from you nowe.

Finis. Deo gracias! per me, Georgi Bellin. 1592.

Come, Lorde Jesu, come quicklye.