The Paynters and the Glasiors Playe
Incipit Pagina de Pastoribus
On wouldes have I walked wylde
under buskes my bowre to bylde,
from styffe stormes my sheepe to shilde,
my seemely wedders to save.
From comlye Conwaye unto Clyde
under tyldes them to hyde,
a better shepperd on no syde
noe yearthlye man maye have.
besydes the suche my sheepe I sought.
My taytfull tuppes are in my thought,
them to save and heale
from the shrewde scabbe yt sought,
or the rotte, yf yt were wrought.
If the cough had them caught
of hyt I could them heale.
wysely wrought for everye wounde —
the woulde a whole man bringe to grownde
within a little whyle —
of henbane and horehounde,
tybbe, radishe, and egermonde,
which bee my herbes save and sounde,
medled on a rowe.
I shall recken them on a rowe:
fynter, fanter, and fetterfowe,
and alsoe penyewrytte.
This is all that I knowe.
For be yt wether or be yt yowe,
I shall heale then on a rowe
cleane from theyre hurte.
to heale them from the rott;
well I can and well I wott
the talgh from them take.
And yf sworne yt had the thursse,
yett shall the taigh be in my purse,
and the sheepe never the worse
to renne on the rake.
save myselfe alone, in good faye;
therfore after one faste wyll I crye.
Hic potat Primus Pastor.
Thow maye not here excepte I blowe, as ever have I heale.
Hic flabit Primus Pastor.
Yt is no shame for mee to shewe
how I was set for to sowe
with the fether of a crowe
a clowte upon my heele.
And though methinke us needes,
had wee Tudd heere by us sett,
thenn might wee sitte and feede us.
Yea, to feede us frendly in faye,
how might wee have our service?
Crye thow must lowd, by this daye;
Tudd is deafe and may not well here us.
Secundus Pastor vocat submissa voce:
Naye, faye; thy voyce is wonders dym.
Why, knowys thow not him?
Fye, man, for shame! Call him Tudd, Tybbys sonne,
and then wyll the shrewe come;
for in good fayth yt is his wonne
to love well his damys name.
How, Tudd, Tybbys sonne!
Syr, in fayth nowe I come,
for yett have I not all donne
that I have to done:
to seeth salve for our sheepe
and — lest my wife should yt weete —
with great gravel and greete
I scowre [an] ould panne.
with tarreboyste must bene all tamed,
penyegrasse and butter for fatt sheepe;
for thys salve am I not ashamed.
no poynt that longeth to my crafte;
noe better — that I well knowe —
in land is nowhere lafte.
to husbandes that benne here abowt:
that eych man muste bowe to his wife,
and commonly for feare of a clowte.
all ys for feare of our dame-keynn.
Now wyll caste my ware hereby,
and hye faste that I were at Hankeynn.
that I were on height there by thee.
Gladly, syr, and thow would bee by me,
for loth me is to denye thee.
Nowe sythen God bath gathered us together,
with good harte I thanke him of his grace.
Welcome be thow, well fayre wedder.
Tudd, will we shape us to some solace?
Solace would best be scene
that we shape us to our supper;
for meate and drinke, well I deeme,
to eych deede is most dere.
Laye forth, eych man ilych,
what hee hath lafte of his liverye.
And I wyll put forth my pyche
with my parte firste of us all three.
And such store as my wife had
in your sight soone shall you see,
at our begininge us to glade;
for in good meate ther is mych glee.
onyons, garlycke, and leekes,
butter that bought was in Blacon,
and greene cheese that will greese well your cheekes.
And here ale of Halton I have,
and whot meate I had to my hyer;
a puddinge may noe man deprave,
and a jannock of Lancastershyre.
and a grayne to laye on the greene,
and sowre milke. My wyffe had ordayned
a noble supper, as well is scene.
Nowe will I caste of my cloacke
and put ont parte of my liverye,
put owt that I have in my poacke,
and a pigges foote from puddinges purye.
Abyde, fellowes, and yee shall see here
this hott meate — wee serven yt here —
gambonns and other good meate in fere,
a puddinge with a pricke in the ende.
My sotchell to shake out
to sheppardes am I not ashamed.
And this tonge pared rownd aboute
with my teeth yt shalbe atamed.
Tunc commedent, et dieat Primus Pastor:
for by God here is good growsinge;
come eate with us, God of heavon hye,
but take noe heede though here be noe howsinge.
Howsinge ennough have wee here
while that wee have heavon over our heddes.
Now to weete our mouthes tyme were;
this fiackett will I tame, if thow reade us.
And of this bottell nowe will I bibbe,
for here is bowles of the best.
Such lickour makes men to live;
this game may noewhere be leste.
Fellowes, nowe our bellyes be full,
thinke wee on him that keepes our flockes.
Blowe thy horne and call after Trowle,
and bydd him, sonne, of our bytlockes.
Well sayd, Hankyn, by my soothe,
for that shrewe I suppose us seekes.
tyll that lad have some of our leekes.
Leekes to his liverye is likinge;
such a lad nowhere in land is.
Blowe a note for that meetinge
whyle that home nowe in thy hand ys.
With this borne I shall make a ’Hooe’
that hee and all heaven shall here.
Yonder lad that sittes on a lowe
the lowd of this borne shall here.
Tunc cantabit, et dicat Garcius:
Good lord, looke on mee
and my flocke here as the fed have.
On this wold walke wee;
are no men here, that noe waye.
therefore, sheepe, we mon goe.
Noe better may bee
of beast that blood and bonne have.
necessaryes that to mee beelongen.
Tarboyste and tarboll
yee shall here;
and my good dogge Dottynolle
that is nothinge cheeffe of his chydinge.
Yf any man come mee bye
my legge I lifte up wheras I lye
and wishe him the waye caste and west where.
And I rose where I laye,
For kinge ne duke, by this daye,
ryse I will not — but take my rest here.
Nowe wyll I sitt here adowne
Would God that I were downe
harmeles, as I hastelye hope.
Noe man drinke here shall
All this lottes I sect at little;
nay, yee lades, sett I not by yee.
For you have I manye a fowle fitt.
Thow fowle filth, though thow flytt, I defye thee.
Trowle, take tent to my talkinge.
For thy tooth here is good tugginge.
While thy wedders benne walkinge,
on this loyne thow may have good lugginge.
Fye on your loynes and your liverye,
your liverastes, livers, and longes,
your sose, your sowse, your saverraye,
your sittinge withowt any songes!
Noe hape to your hot meate have I.
But flyte with my fellowes in feare,
and your sheepe full sycerly save I.
For thow saves our sheepe,
good knave, take keepe.
Sythen thow may not sleepe,
come eate of this sowse.
Nay, the dyrte is soe deepe,
stopped therm for to steepe;
and the grubbes theron do creepe
at whom at thy howse.
of your dightinge todaye
will I nought by noe waye
tyll I have my wages.
I wend to have binne gaye
but, see, soe ragged is myne araye;
aye pinches is your paye
to any poore page.
Trowle, boy, for Godes tree,
come eate a morsell with me;
and then wrastle will wee
here on this wold.
That shall I never flee!
Though yt bee with all three
to laye my liverye,
that will I hold.
Tunc ibit ad magistros suos, et dicat
Nowe comes Trowhe the Trewe;
a tome to take have I tight
with my masters. Or I rewe
put him forth that moste is of might.
Trowle, better thow never knewe.
Eate of this, meate for a knight.
Naye, spare! Though I spewe,
all upon your heades shall yt light.
Howe should wee suffer this shame,
of a shrewe thus to be shente?
This ladd lusts to be lame
and lose a lymme or hee went.
Have donne! Beginne wee this game.
But warre lest your golyons glent.
That were little dole to our dame,
though in the myddest of the daye yee were drent.
False lad, fye on thy face!
One this grownd thow shall have a fall.
Hent one, and hould that thow hasse.
Yf thow happe have, all goe to all.
And this, syrs, here to solace.
Hankyn, sheoparde, shame thee I shall.
Wroth thow art, worse then thow was.
Warre lest thow walter here by the wall.
Tunc projiciat Primum Pastorem, et dicat Secundus Pastor.
Boye, lest I breake thy bones,
kneele downe and axe me a boone.
Lest I destroy thee here on these stones,
sease, lest I shend thee to soone.
Gole thee to groyns and grownes!
Good were thee thy ould ragges to save soone.
Little dowbt of such drownes,
lyther tyke, for thy deedes donne.
Owt, alas, hee lyes on his loynes!
But lett mee goe now to that lad.
Sheppardes he shames and shendes,
for last now am I owt shad.
Both your backes here to mee bendes;
for all your boastes I hould you to bad.
Hould your arses and your hinder loynes;
then hope I to have as I have hadd.
as I had before
of this bovearte,
yea, hope I more.
Keepe well thy score
for feare of a farte.
Tunc projiciat Tertium Pastorem, et dicat Garcius:
My liverye nowe will I lach:
this curye, this clowt, and this cake.
For yee be cast, now will I catch.
as traytors attaynt of your tache!
On this would with this will I walke;
all the world wonder on the wache.
Et sic recedat Garcius, et dicat Primus Pastor:
that wee bine thus cast of a knave.
All agaynst our willes hee hase his;
but I must needes hould the harmes that I have.
That I have needes must I hold;
of these unhappie harmes ofte here I.
Therfore will I wayte on this would
upon the wedder, for I am werye.
Though wee bine werye noe wonder,
what betweene wrastlinge and wakinge.
Ofte wee may bee in thought wee be now under
God amend hit with his makinge.
Tunc sedebunt, et stella apparebit, et dicat Primus Pastor:
that blasses soe bright here
on my black beard?
For to see this light here
a man may bee afright here,
for I am afeard.
Feard for a fraye nowe
may wee bee all nowe;
and yett it is night,
yett seemes yt day nowe.
Never, soothly to saye nowe,
see I such a sight.
Such a sight seeminge
and a light leerninge
lettes mee to looke.
All to my deeminge,
from a starre streaminge
yt to mee stroacke.
That starre if it stand
to seek will I fond,
though my sight fayle mee.
While I may live in lond
why should I not fond,
yf it will avayhe mee?
Tunc respiciens firmamentum dicat Garcius:
In yonder starre light is;
of the sonne this sight is,
as yt nowe seemes.
Hit seemes, as I nowe see,
a bright stare to bee,
there to abyde.
From yt wee may not flee
but aye gloc on the glee,
tyll yt downe glyde.
Fellowes, will wee
kneele downe on our knee
to the trewe Trinitee,
for to lead us for to see
our elders lord?
Our lord will us lere
in our prayer
wherto yt will apent;
and why on high here
the care is soe cleare,
nowe shall wee be kent.
Lord, of this light
send us some sight
why that it is sent.
Before this night
was I never soe afright
of the firmament.
Ne, fye! By my faye,
nowe is it nigh daye;
so was it never.
Therfore I praye
the sooth us to saye,
or that we desever.
Tunc cantet Angelus: 'Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax bominibus bonae voluntatis.'
may yee not here
this mutinge on highe?
In ’glore’ and in ’glere’?
Yett noe man was nere
within our sight.
Naye, yt was a ’glorye.’
Nowe am I sorye
bowt more songe.
Of this strange storye
such mirth is merye;
I would have amonge.
As I then deemed,
’selsis’ it seemed
that bee songe soe.
Whyhe the light leemed,
a wreakinge mee weened;
I wyst never whoo.
What songe was this, saye yee,
that he sange to us all three?
Expounded shall yt bee
erre wee hethen passe;
for I am eldest of degree
and alsoe best, as seemes mee,
hit was ’grorus glorus’ with a ’glee.’
Hit was neyther more nor lasse.
Nay, yt was ’glorus glarus glorius’;
methinke that note went over the howse.
A seemely man hee was, and curiouse;
but soone awaye hee was.
Nay, yt was ’glorus glarus’ with a ’glo,’
and mych of ’celsis’ was therto.
As ever have I rest or woo,
much hee spake of ’glas.’
Naye, yt was neyther ’glas’ nor ’glye.’
Therfore, fellowe, nowe stand bye.
By my fayth, hee was some spye,
our sheepe for to steale.
Or elles hee was a man of our crafte,
for seemely hee was and [wounder] defte.
Nay, hee came by night — all thinges lefte —
our tuppes with tarre to teale.
Naye, on a ’glor’ and on ’glay’ and a ’gly’
gurd Gabryell when hee so gloryd.
When hee sange I might not be sorye;
through my brest-bonne bletinge hee bored.
Nay, by God, yt was a ’gloria,’
sayde Gabryell when hee sayde soe.
He had a mych better voyce then I have,
as in heaven all other have soe.
Wyll hee here howe hee sange ’celsis’?
For on that sadly hee sett him;
nayther singes ’sar’ nor soe well ’cis,’
ney ’pax meryc Mawd when shee had mett him.’
On tyme hee touched on ’tarre,’
and therto I tooke good intent;
all heaven might not have gonne harre,
that note on high when hee up hent.
And after a ’pax’ or of ’peace,’
up as a pye hee pyped;
never in my life me so lyked.
Upon ’hominibus’ hee muted;
that much mervayle to mee was.
And aye I quoked when hee so whewted;
I durst not bede wher that yt was.
Yett, yett, hee sange more then all this,
for some word is worthye a forder.
For hee sange ’bonae voluntatis’;
that is a cropp that passeth all other.
Yett and yett he sange more to;
from my mynde yt shall not starte.
Hee sange alsoe of a ’Deo’;
me thought that heled my harte.
therto I toke good intent.
And ’pax’ alsoe may not be blamed;
for that to this songe I assent.
Nowe pray wee to him with good intent,
and singe I wyll and me [unbrace]:
that hee will hett us to bee kent,
and to send us of his grace.
Nowe syth I have all my will,
never in this world soe well I was.
Singe wee nowe, I rede us, shryll
a mery songe us to solace.
Singe we nowe; lett see,
some songe will I assaye.
All men nowe singes after mee,
for musicke of mec learne yee maye.
Tunc cantabunt et postea dicat Tertius Pastor (Here singe 'troly, loly, loly, loo.'):
that is best our songe to bee,
for to see the starre-gleme,
the fruyt alsoe of that maydcn free.
Nowe folowe we the starre that shines,
tyll we come to that holy stable.
To Bethlem boyne the lymes;
followe we yt withowt any fable.
Followe we hit and byes full fast;
such a frendc loth us were to fayle.
upon Marye for to mervayle.
Hic vadunt versus Bethlem.
Stynt nowe; goe no moe steppes,
for now the starre beginneth to stand.
Harvye, that good bene our happes
we seene — by our Savyour fonde.
Hic apparet Angelus et dicat:
be ye not afright,
for this is Godes might;
takes this in mynde.
To Bethlem nowe right;
there yee shall see in sight
that Christ is borne tonight
to cover all mankynde.
To Bethlem take wee the waye,
for with you I thinke to wend,
that prince of peace for to praye
heaven to have at our ende.
some myrth to his majestee,
for certayne now see wee it indeede:
the kinge Sone of heavon is hee.
Sym, sym, securlye
here I see Marye,
and Jesus Christ fast bye
lapped in haye.
Kneele we downe in hye
and praye wee him of mercye,
and welcome him worthelye
that woe does awaye.
Awaye all our woe ys
and many mans moe ys.
Christ, lord, lett us kys
the cratch or the clothes.
Solace nowe to see this
byldes in my brest blys:
never after to do amys,
thinge that him loth ys.
Whatever this ould man that here ys?
Take heede how his head ys whore.
His beard is like a buske of bryers
with a pound of heare about his mouth and more.
More ys this marveyle to mee nowe,
for to nappe greatly him needes.
Hartles is hee nowe
for aye to his heeles hee heedes.
Why, with his berde though hit be rough,
right well to her hee hydes.
Worthye wight, witt would wee nowe;
wyll ye worne us, worthye in weedes?
Sheppardes, sothlye I see
that my sonne you hyther sent,
through Godes might in majestye
that in mee light and here is lent.
This man maryed was to mee
for noe sinne in such assent;
but to keepe my virginitee,
and truly in non other intent.
Good men, Moyses take in mynde:
as he was made through God allmight,
ordayned lawes us to bynde
which that wee should keepe of right;
man and woman for to bynde
lawefully them both to light;
to fructifye, as men may fynde,
that tyme was wedded every wight.
as lawe would: her for to lere
for noyse nor slander nor trespasse,
and through that deede the devill to dere,
as tould mee Gabriell, full of grace.
When I had trussed all my gere
to have fled and to have never seene her face,
by him was I arested there.
that shee lackles was of sinne.
And when I hard that tokeninge,
from her durst I noe waye twynne.
Therfore goes forth and preach this thinge,
all together and not in twynne:
that you have seene your heavonly kinge
common all mankynde to mynne.
Great God, syttynge in thy troone,
that made all thinge of nought,
nowe wee may thanke thee eychone:
this is hee that wee have sought.
Goe wee neere anone
with such as we have brought.
Ringe, brooche, or pretiouse stone —
left see whether we have ought to proffer.
Lett us doe him homage.
Whoe shall goe first? The page?
Naye, yee be father in age.
Therfore ye must first offer.
Hayle, kinge of heavon soe hye,
borne in a crybbe;
mankynd unto thee
thow hast made full sybbe.
Profettes did tell thow should be our succour;
this clarkes do saye.
Loe, I bringe thee a bell;
I praye thee save me from hell,
soe that I maye with thee dwell
and serve thee for aye.
Hayle, the emperour of hell
and of heaven alsoe;
the feynd shalt thow fell,
that ever hath binne fals.
that stoode us beforne;
hayle, the blessedesfull baronne
that ever was borne.
Loe, sonne, I bringe thee a flackett.
Therby hanges a spoone
for to eat thy pottage with at noone,
as I myselfe full oftetymes have donne.
With hart I praye thee to take yt.
Hayle, prince withowten any pere,
that mankynde shall releeve.
Hayle, the fooe unto Lucyfere,
the which beguyled Eve.
for one yearth now thow dwelles.
Loe, sonne, I bringe thee a cappe,
for I have nothinge elles.
and though I come the hyndmost of all,
when thow shalt men to thy blys call,
good lord, yett thinke one mee.
My deare, with dryrie unto thee I mee dresse,
my state on felloweshippe that I doe not lose;
and for to save mee from all yll sicknesse,
I offer unto thee a payre of my wyves ould hose.
have I none thee for to give
that is worthe anythinge at all,
but my good harte whyle I lyve
and my prayers tyll death doth mee call.
Nowe to you, my fellowes, this doe I saye,
for in this place, or that I wynde awaye:
unto yonder chyld lett us goe praye,
as our masters have donne us beforne.
And of such goodes as wee have here,
lett us offer to this prince so dere,
and to his mother, that mayden clere,
that of her body hasse [him] borne.
Abyde, syrres, I will goe firste to yonder kinge.
And I will goe nexte to that lordinge.
Then will I be last of this offeringe;
this can I saye, noe more.
Nowe, lord, for to give thee have I nothinge,
neyther gold, silver, brooch, ne ringe,
nor noe rich robes meete for a kinge
that I have here in store.
take thee here my well fayre bottle,
for yt will hold a good pottle;
in fayth, I can give thee noe more.
Lord, I know that thow art of this virgine borne,
in full poore araye sittinge one her arme.
For to offer to thee have I noe skorne,
althoo thou be but a child.
For jewell have I none to give thee
to mayntayne thy royall dignitye;
but my hood, take yt thee,
as thow art God and man.
O noble chyld of thy Father on hye,
alas, what have I for to give thee?
Save only my pype that soundeth so royallye,
elles truely have I nothinge at all.
Were I in the rocke or in the valey alowe,
I could make this pipe sound, I trowe,
that all the world should ringe
and quaver as yt would fall.
Nowe, chyld, although thou be commen from God
and bee thyselfe God in thy manhoode,
yet I knowe that in thy chyldhood
thow will for sweetemeat looke.
To pull downe apples, payres, and ploomes,
ould Joseph shall not neede to hurte his handes;
because thow haste not plentye of cromes,
I give thee here my nuthooke.
Nowe farewell, mother and maye,
for of synne nought thow wottest.
Thow hast brought forth this daye
Godes Sonne of mightis most.
’Blessed in every coast and place
be hee, memoriall for us all.’
And that wee may from synne fall
and stand ever in his grace,
our lord God bee with thee.
Brethren, lett us all three
singinge walke homwardlye.
Unkynd will I never in noe case bee,
but preach all that I can and knowe,
as Gabryell taught by his grace mee.
Singinge awaye hethen will I.
Over the sea, and I may have grace,
I will gange and goe abowt nowe
to preach this thinge in every place;
and sheepe will I keepe no more nowe.
I read wee us agree
for our mysdeedes amendes to make,
for soe nowe will I;
and to the chyld I wholey mee betake
for aye securlye.
Sheppardes craft I forsake;
and to an anker herby
I will in my prayers wach and wake.
And I an hermitte
to prayse God, to praye,
to walke by stye and by streytt,
in wildernes to walke for aye.
And I shall noe man meete
but for my livinge I shall him praye,
barefoote one my feete.
And thus will I live ever and aye.
this world I fully refuse,
my mysse to amend with monys.
Turne to thy fellowes and kys.
we have bine fellowes, iwys.
Therfore lend me your mouth,
and frendly let us kysse.
From London to Lowth
such another shepperd I wott not where is.
Both frend and cowth,
God grant you all his blys.
To that blys bringe you
great God, if that thy will bee.
good men, farewell yee.
Well for to fare, eych frend,
God of his might graunt you;
for here now we make an ende.
Farewell, for wee from you goe nowe.
2019 Dec 11 15:43:14