The Coventry plays

Contents 2022 Jul 05 13:02:11

The Pageant of the Shearmen and Taylors
Prologue (S&T)
Annunciation and Nativity (S&T)
A Learned Dialogue (S&T)
Adoration of the Kings (S&T)
Slaughter of the Innocents (S&T)
The Pageant of the Weavers
The Prophet Play (Weav)
Purification - introduction (Weav)
Journey to the Temple and Quest for Doves (Weav)
Purification proper (Weav)
Disputation in the Temple (Weav)
Finis

The Pageant of the Shearmen and TaylorsContents

Dramatis Personae

Isaiah as Prologue (Ll. 1-46)

In the Annunciation and the Nativity (Ll. 47-331)

Gabriel
Mary
Joseph
i. Angel
ii. Angel
i. Pastor
ii. Pastor
iii. Pastor

Participants in a learned dialogue (Ll. 332-474)

i. Profeta
ii. Profeta
iii. Profeta [non-speaking]

In the Adoration of the Kings and the Slaughter of the Innocents (Ll. 475-900)

Nuncius
Herod
i. Rex
ii. Bex
iii. Rex
Mary
Joseph
Angelus
i. Miles
ii. Miles
i. Woman
ii. Woman
iii. Woman

Prologue (S&T)Contents

[Enter Isaiah as prologue]

Isaye
The Sofferent tliatt seithe evere seycrette,
He saue you all and make you parfett and stronge,
And geve us grace yvith his marce forto mete!
For now in grett mesere mankynd ys bownd;
The sarpent hathe gevin vs soo mortall a wonde
That no creature ys abull vs forto reyles
Tyll thye right vncion of Jvda dothe seyse.

Then schall moche myrthe and joie in-cresse;
And the right rote in Isaraell sprynge,
Thatt schall bryng forthe the greyne off whollenes;
And owt of danger he schall vs bryng
In-to thatt reygeon where he ys kyng
Wyche abowe all othur far dothe arbownde,
And thatt cruell Sathan he schall confownde.
Where-foro I cum hero apon this grownde

To comfordo eyue;"o creature off birthe;
For I, Isaye the profot, hathe fownde

Many swete msLtteiv whereof we ma make myrth

On this same wyse;

For, thogh that Adam be demid to deythe
With all his childur, asse Abell and Seythe,
Yett Ecce virgo consepeety —

Loo, where a reymede schall ryse!

Be-holde, a mayde schall conseyve a childe

And gett vs more grace then eyner men had.
And hir meydin-[h]od nothing defy lid.

Sche ys deputyd to beare the Sun, Almyghte God.

Loo! sufferntis, now ma you be glad,

For of this meydin all we ma be fayne;

For Adam, that now lyis in sorrois full sade,
Hir gloreose birth schall roydeme hym ageyn

From bondage and thrall.

Now be myrre eyuere mon

For this dede bryflfly in Isaraell schalbe done,

And before the Fathur in trone,

Thatt schall glade vs all

Benediction.

More of this matte?’ fayne wolde I meve.

But lengur tyme I haue not here for to dwell.
That Lorde that ys marcefuU his marce soo in vs ma
p7’eve
For to sawe owre sollis from the darknes of hell;
And to his blys

He vs bryng,
Asse he ys

Bothe lord and kyng,

And schalbe eyuerlastyng,

In secula seculoium, amen!

Exit Isaiah; enter Gabriel to Mary.

Annunciation and Nativity (S&T)Contents

Exit Isaiah; enter Gabriel to Mary.

Gaberell
Hayle, Mare, full of grace!

Owre Lord God ys with the;i
Aboue all wemen that ejner wasse,

Lade, hlesside mote thow be!

Mare
All-myght Fathur and King of blys.
From all dysscs th». sane me now!

For inwartlely my spretis trubbuld ys,

Thatt I am amacid and kno nott how.

Gaberell
Dred the nothyng, meydin, of this;

From hey vin a-bowe hyddur am I sent
Of ambassage from that Kyng of blys

Unto the, lade and virgin reyuerent!

Salutyng the hero asse most exselent,
Whose v/rtu aboue all othur dothe abownde.
Wherefore in the grace schalbe fownde;
For thow schalt conseyve apon this grownd

The Second Pe-sone of God in trone;

He wylbe borne of the alone;

W/t-owt sin thow schalt hy7?i see.

Thy grace and thi goodnes wyl neyuer bo gone.

But eyuer to lyve in vtrgeneto.

Mare
I marvell soore how thatt mabc.

Manw cu??ipany knev I neyuer yett,
Nor neyuer to do, kasfc I me,

Whyle thatt owre Lord sendith me my wytt.

Gaberell
The Wholle Gost in the schall lyght.

And schado thy soil aoo with \irtii
From the Fathur thatt ys on hyght.

These wordis, turtill, the be full tru.

This chylde that of the schalbe borne

Ys the Second Persone in Trenete;
He schall saue that wase forlorne

And the fyndis powar dystroie schall he.
Those wordis, lade, full tru the bene,

And furthur, lade, here in thy noone lonoge

Be-holde Eylesaboth, thy cosyn clene,

The wyche wosse barren and past all age,

And now wtt/ chyld sche hath bene

Syx monethis and more, asse schalbe sene;

Where-for, discomforde tliQ not. Mare!

For to God onpossibull nothyng mabe.

Mare
Kow, and yt be thatt liOrdis wyll

Of my bodde to be borne and forto be,

Hys hy pleysuris forto fuU-fyll

Asse his one hande-mayde I submyt me..

Gaberell
Now blessid be the tyme sett

That thou wast borne in thy degre!
For now ys the knott surely knytt.
And God conseyvide in Trenete.

Now fare-well, lade off rayghtis most!
Vnto the God-hed I the be-teyche.

Mare
Thatt Lorde the gyde in eyuere cost,
And looly he leyde me and be my leyche!

[Here the angell departyth and Joseff cumyth in and seyth:]

Josoff
Mare, my wyff soo dere,
How doo ye, dame, and whatt chere
Ys with you this tyde?

Mare
Truly, husebonde, I am here
Owre Lordis wyll forto abyde.

Josoff
Whatt! I troo thatt we be all schent!
Sey, womon; who hath byn here sith I went.
To rage wyth thee?

Mare
Syr, here was nothur man nor mans eyvin,
But onlv the sond of owre Lorde God in hey vin.

Josoff
Sey not soo, womon; for schame, ley be!

Ye be with chyld soo wondurs grett,
Ye nede no more therof to tret
Agense all right.
For-sothe, this chylde, dame, ys not myne.
Alas, that ejaer with my nynee
I snld see this syght!

Tell me, womon; whose ys this chyld

Mare
Non but youris, husebond soo myld,
And thatt schalbe seyne, ywis.

Josoff
But myne 1 alias! alas! why sey ye soo!
Wele-awey! womon, now may I goo,
Be-gyld as many a-nothur ys.

Mare
Na, truly, sir, ye be not be-gylde,
Hot yet with spott of syn I am not defylde;
Trust yt well, huse-bonde.

Josoff
Huse-bond, in feytlic! and that acold I
A! weylle-awey, Josoff, as thow ar olde!
Lyke a fole now ma I stand
And truse.
But, in feyth. Mare, thou art in syn;
Soo moche ase I haue cheyrischyd the, dame, and all thi kyn,
Be-hynd my bake to serve me thus!

All olde men, insampull take be me, —
How I am be-gylid here may you see! —
To wed soo yong a chyld.
Now fare-well, Mare, I leyve the here alone, —
Wo worthe the, dam, and thy warkis ycheone! —
For I woll noo-more be be-gylid
For frynd nor fooe.
Now of this ded I am soo dull.
And off my lyff I am soo full,
No farthur ma I goo.

[Lies down to sleep; to him enters an angel.]

I. Angell
Aryse up, Josoff, and goo whom ageyne
Vnto Mare, thy wyff, that ys soo fre.
To comford hir loke that thow bo fayne,
For, Josoff a cleyne meydin ys schee:
Sche hath conscyvid with-owt any trayne
The Seycond Person in Trenete;
Jesus schalbe hys name, sarten,
And all thys world sawe schall lie;
Be not agast.

Josoff
Now, Lorde, I thanke the with hart full sad,
For of these tythyngis I am soo glad
Thatt all my care awey ys cast;
Wherefore to Mare I woll in hast.

[Returns to Mare.]

A! Mare, Mare, I knelo full loo;
Forgeve me, swete wyff, here in this loud!
Marce, Mare! for now I kno

Of youre good gouernance and how yt doth stond.

Thogh* thatt I dyd the mys-nam6,
Marco, Mare \ Whyle I leve
"Wyll I neyucr, swet wyff, the greve

In emyst nor in game.

Mare
Now, thatt Lord in heyvin, sir, he you f or-
gy ve!
And I do for-geve yow in hys name
For euermore.

Josoff
Now truly, swete wyff, to you I sey the same.

But now to Bedlem must I wynde
And scho my-self , soo full of care;
And I to leyve you, this grett, behynd, —
God wott, the whyle, dame, how you schuld fare.

Mare
Na, hardely, husebond, dred ye nothyng;

For I woll walke with you on the wey.
I trust in God, all-niyghte kyng,

To spede right well in owre jurney.

Josoff
Now I thanke you, Mare, of youre goodnes
Thatt ye my wordis woll nott blame;

And syth that to Bedlem we scball vs dresse,

Goo we to-gedur in Goddis wholle name.

[They set out and travel a while.]

Now to Bedlem liaiie we leyeds three:
The day ys ny spent, yt drawy th toward nyglit;
Fayne at your es, dame, I wold that ye schulde be,
For you groue all werely, yt semyth in my syght.

Mare
God haue marcy, Josoffe, my spowse soo dere;
All profettis herto dothe beyre wyttnes,
The were tyme now draith nere
Thatt my chyld wolbe borne, wyche ys Kyng of blis.

Vnto sum place, Josoff, hyndly me leyde,
Thatt I moght rest me with grace in this tyde.
The lyght of the Fathur ouer hus both spreyde,
And the grace of my sun wtt ys here a-byde!

Josoff
Loo! blessid Mare, here schall ye lend,
Cheff chosyn of owre Lorde and cleynist in degre;
And I for help to towne woll I wende.
Ys nott this the best, dame? whatt sey ye?

Mare, God haue marce, Josoff, my huse-bond soo meke!
And hartely I pra you, goo now fro me.

Josoff
Thatt schalbe done in hast, Mare soo swete!
The comford of the Wholle Gost leyve I with the.
Now to Bedlem streyght woll I wynd
To gett some helpe for Mare soo free.
Sum helpe of women God may me send,
Thatt Mare, full off grace, pleysid ma be.

[In another part of the place a shepherd begins to speak.]

I. Pastor
Now God, that art in Trenete,
Thow sawe my fellois and me!
For I kno nott wheyre my scheepe nor the be,
Thys nyght yt ys soo colde.
Now ys yt nygh the niyddis of the nyght;
These wedurs ar darke and dym of lyght>
Thatt of them can hy haue noo syght,
Stahdyng here on this wold.

But now to make there hartis lyght,

Kow wyll I full right

Stand apon this looe,

And to them cry wtt all my myght, —
Full well my voiso the kno:
W7/at hoo! fellois! hoo! hooe! hoo!

[Two other shepherds appear (in the street).]

II. Pastor
Hark, Sym, harke 1 I here owre hrother on the looe;
This ys hys woise, right well I knoo;
There-fore toward hym lett vs goo,

And folio his woise a-right.
See, Sym, se, where he doth stond!
I am ryght glad we haue hym fond!
Brothur, where hast thow byn soo long,
And hit ys soo cold this nyght?

I. Pastor
E! fryndis, ther cam a pyrie of wynd with a myst suddenly,
Thatt forth off my weyis went I
And grett heyvenes then made I

And wase full sore afryght.

Then forto goo wyst I nott whyddur.
But trawellid on this loo hyddur and thyddur;
I wasse so were of this cold weddur
Thatt nere past wasse my might.

III. Pastor
Brethur, now we be past that f ryght,
And hit ys far within the nyght,
Full sono woll spryng the day-lyght.
Hit drawith full nere the tyde.
Here awhyle lett vs rest,
And repast owreself of the best;
Tyll thatt the sun ryse in the est
Let vs all here abyde.

There the scheppardis drawys furth there meyte and doth eyte and drynk; and asse the drynk, the fynd the star and sey thus:

III. Pastor
Brethur, loke vp and behold!
Whatt thyng ys yondur thatt schynith soo bryght?
Asse long ase ejner I haue wachid my fold,
Yett sawe I neyucr soche a syght
In fyld.
A ha! now ys cum the tyme that old fathurs hath told,
Thatt in the wynturs nyght soo cold
A chyld of meydyn borne be he wold
In whom all profeciys schalbe fullfyld.

I. Pastor
Truth yt ys wttA-owt naye,
Soo seyd the profett Isaye, shortest day.
Thatt a chylde schuld be borne of a made soo bryght
In wentur ny the schortist dey

Or elis in the myddis of the nyght,

II. Pastor
Loovid be God, most off myght,
That owre grace ys to see thatt syght;
Pray we to hym, ase hit ys right,

Yff thatt his wyll yt be,

Thatt we ma haue knoleyge of this syngnefocacion
And why hit aperith on this fassion;
And eyuer to hym lett vs geve lawdacion.

In yerthe whyle thatt we be.

There the angelis syng “Glorea in exselsis Deo”,

III. Pastor
Harke! the syng abowe in the clowdis a merry clere!
Hard I neyuer of soo myrre a quere.
Now, gentyll brethur, draw we nere
To here there armony.

I. Pastor
Brothur, royrth and solas ys cnm hus among;
For be the swettnes of thev songe,
Goddis Sun ys cxwi, whom we haue lokid for long,

Asse syngnefyith thys star that we do see.

II. Pastor
“Glare, glorea in exselsis”, that wase their songe,
How sey ye, fellois, seyd the not thus?

I. Pastor
Thatt ys wet seyd; now goo we hence
To worschipe thatt chyld of hy manyffeconce,
And that we ma syng in his presence
“Et in turra pax omynibus”.

There the shepparidis syngis “Ase I owt Rodde,” and Josoff seyth:

Josoff
Now, Lorde, this noise thai I do here,
With this grett solemnete,
Gretly amendid hath my chere;
I trust hy nevis schortly wolbe.

There the angellis syng “Gloria in exsellsis” ageyne.

Mare
A! Josoff, husebond, cxi?w heddur anon;

My chylde ys borne that ys Kyng of blys.

Josoff
Now welcum to me, the Makar of mon,
WitA all the omage thatt I con;

Thy swete mothe here woll I kys.

Mare
A! Josoff, husebond, my chyld waxith cold,
And we haue noo fyre to warme hym wit/i.

Josoff
Now in my narmys I schall hym fold,
Kyng of all kyngis be fyld and be fiyth;

He myght haue had bettur, and hym-selfc* wold.
Then the breylhyng of these bestis to warme hym with.

Mare
Now, Josoff, my husbond, fel heddur my chyld,
The Maker off man and hy Kyng of blys.

Josoff
That schalbe done anon, Mare soo myld,
For the brethyng of these bestis hath warmyd hym well, i-wys.

[Angels appear to the shepherds.]

I. Angell
Hyrd-men hynd,
Drede ye nothyng
Off thys star thatt ye do se;
For thys same mome
Godis Sun ys borne

In Bedlem of a meydin fre.

II. Angell
Hy you tliyddur in hast;

Yt ys hys wyll ye schall hym see
Lyinge in a crybbe * of pore rey paste,

Yett of Davithis lyne cnmon ys hoe.

[The shepherds approach and worship the Babe.]

I. Pastor
Hayle, mayde-modur * and wyff soo myld!
Asse the angell seyd, soo hauo we fonde.

I haue nothyng to present vfi\h th\ chylde

But my pype; hold, hold, take yt in thy bond |
Where-in moche pleysure thai I haue fond;

And now, to oonowre thy gloreose byrtho,

Thow schallt yt haue to make the myrthe.

II. Pastor
Now, hayle be thow, chyld, and thy dame!
For in a pore loggyn here art thow ley do,
Soo the angell seyde and tolde vs thy name;
Holde, take thow here my hat on thy hedde!
And now off won thyng thow art well sped,
For weddur thow hast noo ncde to complayne.
For wynd, ne sun, hayle, snoo and rayne.

III. Pastor
Hayle be tiiow, Lorde ouer watur and landis!
For thy cumyng all we ma make myrthe.
Haue here my myttens to pytt on thi hondis,
Othur treysure haue I non to present the with.

Mare
Now, berdmen hynd,
For youre comyng
To my chyld schall I prae,
Asse he ys heyvin kyng,
To grant you his blessyng,
And to hys blys that ye may wynd
At your last day.

There the scheppardis syngith ageyne and goth forthe of the place; and the ij profettis cumyth in and seyth thus:

A Learned Dialogue (S&T)Contents

There the acheppardis syngith ageyne and goth forthe of the place; and the ij profettis cumyth in and seyth thus:

I. Profeta
Novellis, Novellis
Of wonderfull marvellys,
Were hy and defuce vnto the heryng!
Asse scripture tellis,
These strange novellis
To you I bryng.

II. Profeta
Kow bartely, sir, I desyre to knoo,
Yff hytt wolde pleyse you forto scboo,
Of whatt maner a thyng.

I. Profeta
Were mystocall vnto youre heryng, —
Of the natevete off a kyng.

II. Profeta
Of a kyng? Whence schuld he cum?

I. Profeta
From thatt reygend ryall and mighty mancion,
The sede seylesteall and beyvinly vysedome,
The Seycond Person and Godis one Sun,
For owre sake now ys man be-cum.
This godly spere,
Desendid here
In-to a virgin clere,
Sche on-defyld;
Be whose warke obskevre
Owre frayle nature
Ys now begilde.

II. Profeta
Why, hath sche a chyld?

I. Profeta
E 1 trust hyt well;
And neuer the las
Yet ys sche a inayde evin asse sche wasse,
And hir sun the king of Isaraell.

II. Profeta
A wondur-full marvell
How thatt ma be,
And far dothe exsell
All owre capasete:
How thatt the Trenete,
Of soo hy regallete,
Schuld jonyd be
Vnto owre mortallete!

I. Profeta
Of his one grett marce,
As ye shall se the exposyssion,
Throgh whose vmanyte
All Adamw progene
Reydemyd schalbe owt of perdyssion.

Syth man did offend,
Who schuld amend
But the seyd mon and no nothur?
For the wyche cawse he
Incarnate wold be
And lyve in mesere asse manis one brothur.

II. Profeta
Syr, vnto the Deyite,
I beleve parfettle,
Onpossibull to be there ys nothyng;
How be yt this warke
Vnto nie ys darke
In the opperacion or wyrkyng.

I. Profeta
Whatt more reypriff
Ys vnto belyff
Then to be dowtyng?

II. Profeta
Yet dowtis oftymw bathe dereyacion.

I. Profeta
Thatt ys be the mejnes of comenecacion
Of trawthis to haue a dev probacion
Be the same dowts reysouiiig.

II. Profeta
Then to you this won thyng:
Of whatt nobull and’ hy lenage ys schee
Thatt myght this verabul princis modur be?

I. Profeta
Ondowtid sche ys own of hy parrage,
Of the howse of Davith and Salamon the sage;
And won off the same lyne joynid to hir be mareage;
Of whose trybe
We do subscrybe
This chyldis lenage.

II. Profeta
And why in thatt wysse?

I. Profeta
For yt wasse the gysse
To conte the parant on the manys lyne,
And nott on the feymyne
Amonst vs here in Isaraell.

II. Profeta
Yett can I nott aspy be noo wysse
How thys chylde borne schuldbe with-owt naturis prjudyse.

I. Profeta
Nay, no prejvdyso vnto nature, I dare well sey;
For the kyng of nature may
Hawe all at his one wyll.

Dyd not tJie powar of God
Make Aronis rod
Bey re frute in on day 1

II. Profeta
Truth yt ys in-ded.

I. Profeta
Then loke you and rede,

II. Profeta
A! I perseyve the sede
Where apon thatt you spake.
Yt wasse for owro nede

Thai he frayle nature did take,
And hifi blod he schuld* schede

Aniens forto make

For owre transegression;

Ase yt ys seyd in p?*ofece

Thai of the lyne of Jude

Schuld spryng a right Messe,

Be whom all wee

Schall haue reydemcion.

I. Profeta
Sir, now ys the tyme cu?»,
And the date there-of run,
Off his Natevete.

II. Profeta
Yett I beseke you hartele
Tliai ye wold schoo me how
Thutt this strange nowelte
Were broght vnto you.

I. Profeta
This othur nyght soo cold
Hereby apon a wolde
Scheppardis wachyng there fold,

In the nyght soo far

To them aperid a star,.

And eyuer yt drev them nar;
Wyche star the did behold
Bryghter, th sey, M folde

Then the sun so clere

In his mydday spere,
And the these tythyngis tolde.

II. Profeta
Whatt, seycretly]

I. Profeta
Na, na, hardely;
The made there-of no conseil;
For the song ase lowde
Ase eyuer the cowde
Presyng the kyng of Isaraell

II. Profeta
Yett do I marvell

In whatt pyle or castell

These herdmen dyd hym see.

I. Profeta
Nothur in hallis nor yett in bowris

Bom wold he not be,
iother in castellis nor yet in towris

Thai semly were to se;

But att hys Fathurs wyll,
The profeci to fuU-fyll,

Be-twyxt an ox and an as

Je8u«, thi kyng, borne he was.
Heyvin he bryng us tyll!

II. Profeta
S/r, a! but when these scheppardis had seyne hym there,
In-to whatt place did the repeyre!

I. Profeta
Forthe the went and glad th were,

Going thQ did syng;
Wtt/i myrthe and solas th made good chere

For joie of that new tything;

And aftur, asse I hard the[m]* tell.
He rey wardid them full well:
He graunt them hevyn er-in to dwell;
In ar the gon wttA joie and myrthe.
And there songe hit ys "Neowell".

There the profettis gothe furthe and Erod cumyth in, and the messenger.

Adoration of the Kings (S&T)Contents

There the profettis gothe furthe and Erod cumyth in, and the messenger.

Nuncios
Faytes pais, dnyis, baronys de grande reynowne!
Payis, seneoris, schevaleris de uooble posance!
Pays, gentis homos, companeouys petis egrance!
Je vos command dugard treytus sylance.
Payis, tauque vottur nooble Roie syre ege presance!
Que nollis persone ese non fawis perwynt dedfferauce,
Nese harde de frappas; mayis gardus to to paceance, —
Mayis gardus voter seneor to cor reyuerance;
Car elat vottur Roie to to puysance.
Anon de leo, pase tos! je vose cummande,
E lay Roie erott la grandeaboly vos vmport.

Erode
Qui statis in Jude et Rex Iseraell,
And the myghttyst conquerowre that eyaer walkid on grownd;
For I am evyn he thatt made bothe hevin and hell,
And of my myghte powar holdith vp this world rownd.
Magog and Madroke, bothe them did I confownde,
And with this bryght bronde there bonis I brak onsunder,
Thatt all the wyde worlde on those rappis did wonder.
I am the cawse of this grett lyght and thunder;
Ytt ys throgh my fure that the soche noyse dothe make.
My feyref uU contenance the clowdis so doth incumbur
Tliat oftymw for drede ther-of the verre yerth doth quake.
Loke, when I with males this bryght brond doth schake,
All the whole world from the north to the sowthe
I ma them dystroie with won worde of my mowthe!

To reycownt vnto you myn innevmerabull substanoe, —
Thatt were to moche for any tong to tell;
For all the whole Orent ys under myn obbeydeance,
And prynce am I of purgatorre and cheff capten of hell;
And those tyraneos tray turs be force ma I compell
Myne enmyis to vanquese and evyn to dust them dryve,
And with a twynke of myn iee not won to be lafte alyve.

Behold my contenance and my colur,
Bryghtur then the sun in the meddis of t?tQ dey.

Where can you haue a more grettur succur

Then to behold my person that jrs soo gayo?
My fawcun and my fassion, wit/i my gorgis araye, —

He thatt had the grace all-wey er-on to thynke,

Lyve the myght all-wey wtt-owt othur meyte or drynke.

And thys my tryomfande fame most hylist dothe abownde
Throgh-owt this world in all reygeons abrod,
Reyscmclyng the fauer of thatt most myght Mahownd:
From Jubvtor be desent and cosyn to the grett God,
And namyd the most reydowndid kyng Eyrodde,
Wyclie thatt all pryncis hath under subjeccion
And all there whole powar vndur my proteccion.
And therefore, my hareode here, callid Calcas,
Warne thow eyuere porte thatt noo schyppis a-ryve,
Nor also aleoud stranger throg my realme pas,
But the for there truage do pay markis fyve.

Now spede the forth hastele,

For the thatt wyll tlie contrare

Apon a galowse hangid schalbe,
A7ul, be Mahownde, of me the gett noo grace!

Nuncios
Now, lord and mastur, in all the hast caicUas wiu

Thy worethe wyll ytt schall be wroght.
And thy ryall cuntreyis schalbe past

In asse schort tyme ase can be thoght.

Erode
Now schall owre regeons throgh-owt be socht a search
In eyuere place bothe est and west;
Yff any katyffis to me be broght,
Yt schalbe nothyng for there best.
And the whyle thatt I do resst,
Trompettis, Tiallis, and othur armone
Schall bles the wakyug of my maleste.

Here Erod goth awey and the iij kyngis speykyth in the strete.

I. Rex
Now blessid be God of his swet sonde, Tiie first icing
For yondur a feyre bryght star I do see!
Now ys he cofifion, vs a-monge,
Asse the profet seyd thatt yt schuld be.

A seyd there schuld a babe be borne, and remem-

Comyng of the rote of Jesse, prophecy.

To sawe mankynd that wasse for-lorne;

And truly Gomen now ys he.

Keyuerence ajid worschip to hym woll I do

Asse God and man, thatt all made of noght.
All the profettis acordid and seyd evyn soo,

That with hys presseos blod mankynd schuld be boght.
He grant me grace,
Be yonder star that I see,
And in-to thatt place
Bryng me
Thatt I ma hym worschipe with umellete
And se hys gloreose face.

II. Rex
Owt of my wey I deme thatt I am,
For toocuns of thys cuntrey can I non see;
Now, God, thatt on yorth madist man.
Send me sum knoleyge where thatt I be!

Yondur, me thynkc, a feyre, bryght star I see,
The wyche be-tocunyth the byrth of a chyld
Thatt hedur ys cum to make man fre;
He borne of a mayde, and sche nothyng defyld.

To worschip thatt chyld ys myn in-tent;
Forth now wyll I take my wey.
I trust sum cumpany God hathe me sent,
For yonder I se a kyng labur on the wey;

To-warde hym now woll I ryde.
Harke! cumly kyng, I you pray,
In-to whatt cost wyll ye thys tyde.
Or weddur lyis youre jumey?

I. Rex
To seke a chylde ys myne in-tent
Of whom the profetis hathe ment;
The tyme ys cum, now ys he sent,
Be yondur star here ma you see.

II. Rex
Sir, I prey you, with your lysence,
To ryde with you vnto his presence;
To hym wyll I offur frank-in-sence.
For the hed of all Whole Churche schall he be.

[Enter Third King to the other side of the pageant.]

III. Rex
I ryde wandeiyng in veyis wyde,
Ouer montens and dalis; I wot not where I am.
Now, Kyng off all kyngis, send me soche gyde
Thatt I myght haue knoleyge of thys cuntreys name.
A! yondur I se a syght, be-semyng all afar,
The wyche be-tocuns sum nevis, ase I troo;
Asse me thynke, a chyld peryng in a stare.
I trust he be cum that schall defend vs from woo.

To kyngis yondur I see, The Kings
And to them woll I ryde
Forto haue there cmnpane;
I trust the wyll me abyde.

Hayle, cumly kyngis augent!
Good surs, I pray you, wheddur ar ye ment?

I. Rex
To seke a chylde ys owre in-tent,
Wyche be-tocuns yonder star, asse ye ma see.

II. Rex
To hym I purpose thys present.

III. Rex
Surs, I pray you, and thatt ryght vmblee,
With you thatt I ma ryde in cumpane.

All three
To all-myghte God now prey we
Thatt hys pressiose persone we ma se.

Here Erode cumyth in ageyne and the messengere seyth:

Nuncios
Hayle, lorde most off mycht!
Thy commandement ys right;
In-to thy land ys comyn this nyght
Iij kyngis and with them a grett cumpany,

Erode
Whatt make those kyngis in this cuntrey?

Nuncios
To seke a kyng and a chyld, the sey.

Erode
Of whatt age schuld he bee!

Nuncios
Skant twellve deyis old fulle.

Erode
And wasse he soo late borne?

Nuncios
E! syr, soo the schode me, thys same dey in the morne.

Erode
Now, in payne of deyth, bryng them me beforne;
And there-fore, harrode, now hy the in hast,
In all spede thatt thow were dyght
Or thatt those kyngis the cuntrey be past;
Loke thow bryng them all iij before my syght;
And in Jerusalem inquere more of that chyld.
Main ftir* But I wame the that thy wordis be mylde,
qoiriea.’ For there must* thow hede and crafte weylde
How to for-do his powere; and those iij kyngis shalbe begild.

Nuncios
Lorde, I am redde att youro byddyng
To sarve the ase my lord and kyng;
For joye there-of, loo, how I spryng
Wiih lyght hart ami fresche gamboldyng

Alofte here on this molde I

Erode
Then sped the forthe hastely.
And loke thai thow bey re the eyvinly;
And also I pray the hartely
Thatt thow doo comand me

Bothe to yong and olde.

[The messenger goes to the kings.]

Nuncios
Hayle, syr kyngis, in youre degre;
Erood, kyng of these cuntreyis wyde,
Desyrith to speyke with you all thre,
And for youre comyng he dothe abyde.

I. Rex
Syr, att his wyll we be ryght bayne.

Hy us, brethur, vnto thatt lordis place;
To speyke with hym we wold be fayne;

Thatt chyld thatt we seke, he grant us of his grace!

[They go to Herod.]

Nuncios
Hayle, lorde with-owt pere!
These iij kyngis here have we broght.

Erode
Now welcuTw, syr kyngis, all in fere;
But of my bryght ble, surs, bassche ye noght I

Sir kyngis, ase I vndurstand,
A star hathe gydid you into my land,
Where-in grett harie ye haue fonde
Be reysun of hir beymw bryght.
Wherefore I pray you hartely
The vere truthe thatt ye wold sertefy,
How long yt ys surely
Syn of that star you had furst syght.

I. Rex
Sir kynge, the vere truthe to sey
And forto schoo you ase hit ys best,
This same ys evin the xij^th dey
Syth yt aperid to vs to be west.

Erodr Brethur, then ys there no more to sey,
But wtt hart and wyll kepe ye your jumey
And cuw jjhom by me this same wey,

Of your nevis thatt I myght knoo.
You schall tryomfe in this cuntre
And with grett conquorde bankett wtt/i me,
And thatt chyld myself then woll I see
And honor hym also.

II. Rex
Sir, youre coniTwandement we woll fullfyll
And humbly abaye owreself there-tyll.
He thatt weldith all thyng at wyll

Tlie redde way bus teyche,’
S/r kyng, thatt we ma passe your land in pes!

Erode
Yes, and walke softely ey vin at your one es;
Youre pase-porte for a C deyis
Here schall you haue of clere cumnand,
Owre reme to labur any weyis
Here schall you haue be spesschall grante.

III. Rex
Now fare-well, kyng of by degre,
Humbly of you owre ley ve we take.

Erode
Then adev, sir kyngis all thre;

And whyle I lyve, be bold of me!

There ys nothyng in this cuntre

But for youre one ye schall yt take.

[Exeunt the three kings]

Htrod wm Now these iij kyngis are gon on ther wey;
smUi whM On-wjeely a9id on-wyttely haue the all wtoghte.

When the cum ageyne, the schall dy that saibo dey,
And thus these yyle wreychis to dey th the schalhe broght, —
Soch.e ys my lykyng.

He that agenst my lawis wyll hold,
Be he kyng or keysar neyucr soo bold,
I schall them cast in-to caris cold

And to deyth I schall them bryng.

There Erode goth his weyis and the iij kyngis cum in ageyne.

I. Rex
O blessid God, moche ys thy myht!
Where ys this star thatt gawe vs lyghtt?

II. Rex
Now kuele we downe here in this presence,
Be-sekyng that Lord of hy mangnefecens
That we ma see his hy exsellence
Yff thatt his swot wyll be?

III. Rex
Yondur, brothur, I see the star,
Where-by I k no he ys nott far; —
Therefore, lordis, goo we nar
Into this pore place.

Jliere the iij kyngie gois in-to the jeeen, to Mare and hir child.

I. Rex
Hayle, Lorde thatt all this worlde hathe wroght!
Hale, God and man to-gedur in fere!
For thow hast made all thyng of noght,
Albe-yt thatt thow lyist porely here;
A cupe-full of golde here I haue the broght,
In toconyng thow art with-out pere.

II. Rex
Hayle be thow, Lorde of hy mangnyffecens!
In toconyng of prestehod and dyngnete of offece,
To the I offur a cupe-full off in-sence,
For yt be-hovith the to haue soche sacrefyce.

III. Rex
Hayle be thow, Lorde longe lokid fore!

I haue broght the myre for mortalete, «»« twrd.

In to-cunyng thow schalt mankynd restore

To lyflf be thy deyth apon a tre.

Mare
God haue marce, kyngis, of yowre goodnes; Mary biemes

Be the gydyng of the godhed bidder ar ye sent;
The provyssion off my swete sun your weyis whom reydres,
And gostely reywarde you for youre present!

[As the kings go away, they say;]

I. Rex
Syr kyngis, af tur owre promes Tiiey are
Whome be Erode I mvst nedis goo,

II. Rex
Now truly, brethur, we can noo las,
But I am soo for-wachid I wott not wat to do.

III. Rex
Right soo am I; where-fore I you pray,
Lett all vs rest vs awhyle upon this grownd.

I. Rex
Brothur, your seying ys right well vnto my pay.
The grace of thatt swet chylde saue vs all sownde!

[They lie down, and while they sleep, an angel appears.]

Angellus
Kyng of Tawrus, Ser Jespar,
Kyng of Arraby, Sir Baltliasar,
Melchor, Kyng of Aginare,
To you now am I sent.
For drede of Eyrode, goo you west whom;
In-to those parties when ye cum downe,
Ye schalbe byrrid with gret reynowne;
The Wholle Gost thys knoleyge hath sent. [Exit.]

I. Rex
Awake, sir kyngis, I you praye,
For the voise of an angell I hard in my dreyme.

II. Rex
Thatt ys full tru thatt ye do sey,
For he reyherssid owre names playne.

III. Rex
He bad thatt we echuld goo downe be west
For drede of Eyrodis fawls be-traye.

I. Rex
Soo forto do, yt ys the best;
The Child that we haue soght, gyde vs the wey!

Now fare-well, the feyrist of schapp so swete!

And thaiikid be Jesus of his sonde,
Thatt we iij to-goder soo suddenly schuld mete,

Thatt dwell soo wyde and in straunge lond,

And here make owre presentacion

Vnto tliis kyngis son clensid soo cleyne

And to his moder for ovre saluacion;

Of moche myrth now ma we meyne,

Thatt we soo well hath done this obblacion.

II. Rex
Now farewell, Sir Jaspar, brothur, to yoeu,
Kyng of Tawrus the most worthe;
Sir Balthasar, also to you I bow;
And I thanke you bothe of youre good cumpany
Thatt we togeddur haue had.
He thatt made vs to mete on hyll,
I thanke hym now and eyuer I wyll;
For now may we goo with-owt yll.
And off owre offerynge be full glad.

III. Rex
Now syth thatt we mvst nedly goo
For drede of Erode thatt ys soo wrotlie,
Now fare-well brothur, and brothur also,
I tike my leve here at you bothe
This day on fete.

Now he thatt made vs to mete on playne
And offur to Mare in hir jeseyne,
He gave vs grace in heyvin a-gayne

All to-geyder to mete!

[The kings go out, and Herod and his train occupy the pageant]

Slaughter of the Innocents (S&T)Contents

[The kings go out, and Herod and his train occupy the pageant]

Nuncios
Hayle, kynge, most worthist in wede!
Hayle, mauteinar of curtese throgh all this world wyde!
Hayle, the most myglityst that eyuer bestrod a stede!
Hayll, most monfullist mon in armor man to abyde!
Hayle, in thyne hoonowre!
Thesso iij kyngis that forthe were sent
And schuld have cum ageyne before the here present,
Anothur wey, lorde, whom the went,
Contrare to thyn honowre.

Erode
A-nothur wey? owt! owt! owtt!
Hath those fawls traytvrs done me this ded?
I stampe! I stare! I loke all abowtt!
Myght I them take, I schuld them bren at a glode!
I rent! I rawe! and now run I wode!
A! thatt these velen trayturs hath mard this my mode!
The schallbe hangid yf I ma cum them to!

Here Erode ragis in the pagond and in the strete also.

E! and thatt kerne of Bedlem, he schalbe ded
And thus schall I for-do his profece. 785

How sey you, sir knyghtis? ys not this the best red,
Thatt all yong chyldur for this schuld be dede,
Wyth sworde to be slayne?
Then schall I, Erod, lyve in lede,
And all folke me dowt and drede,
And offur to me bothe gold, rychesse, and mede;
Thereto wyll the be full fayne.

I. Myles
My lorde, kyng Erode be name,
Thy wordis agenst my wyll schalbe;
To see soo mawy yong chylder dy ys schame.
Therefore consell ther-to gettis thou non of me.

II. Myles
Well seyd, fello, my trawth I plyght.
Str kyng, perseyve right well you may,
Soo grett a morder to see of yong frute
Wyll make a rysyng in thi noone cuntrey.

Erode
A rysyng! Owt! owt! owt!

There Erode ragis ageyne and then seyth thus:

Owt! velen wrychis, har apon you I cry!
My wyll vtturly loke that yt be wroght,
Or apon a gallowse bothe you schall dy,
Be Mahownde most myghtyste, tJiat me doro hath boght!

I. Myles
Now, cruell Erode, syth we schall do this dede!
Your wyll nedefully in this realme mvste be wroght;
All the chylder of that age dy the mvst nede;
Now with all my myght the schall be vpsoght.

II. Myles
And I woll sweyre here apon your bryght sworde,
All the chylder thatt I fynd, sclayne the schalbe;
Thatt make many a moder to wepe and be full sore aferde
In owre armor bryght when the hus see.

Erode
Now you have swome, forth that ye goo,
And my wyll thatt ye wyrke bothe be dey and nyght,
And then wyll I for fayne trypp lyke a doo.
But whan the be ded I wame you bryng ham be-fore my syglit.

[Herod and his train go away, and Joseph and Mary are, while asleep, addressed by an angel.]

Angellus
Mare and Josoff, to you I sey,
Swete word from the Fathur I bryng you full ryght:
Owt of Bedlem in-to Eygype forth goo ye the wey
And with you take the King, full of myght,
For drede of Eroddis rede!

Josoff
A-ryse up, Mare, hastely and sone;
Owre Lordis wyll nedys mvst be done,
Lyke ase the angell vs bad.

Mare
Mekely, Josoff, my none spowse,
Towarde that cuntrey let vs reypeyre;
Att Eygyp to sum cun off howse,
God grant hus grace saff to cum there!

Here the wemen cum in wythe there chyldur, syngyng them; and Mare and Josoff goth awey cleyne.

I. Woman
I love my chylde wondursly swete,
And in my narmis I do hyt kepe,
Be-cawse thatt yt schuld not crye.

II. Woman
Thatt babe thatt ys borne in Bedlem, so meke,
He saue my chyld and me from velany!

III. Woman
Be styll, be sty11, my lyttull chylde!
That Lorde of lordis saue bothe the and me!
For Erode hath sworne with wordis wyld
Thatt all yong chyldur sclayne the schalbe.

I. Myles
Sey ye, wyddurde wyvis, whydder ar ye a-wey?
What beyre you in youre armis nedis mvst we se.
Yff the be man-chyldur, dy the mvst this dey.
For at Eroddis wyll all thyng mvst be.

II. Myles
And I in handis wonys them hent.
Them forto sley noght woll I spare;
We mvst full-fyll Erodis commandement,
Elis be we asse trayturs and cast all in care.

I. Woman
Sir knyghtis, of youre curtessee,
Thys dey schame not youre chevaldre,
But on my child haue pytte
For my sake in this styde;

For a sympull sclaghtur yt were to sloo
Or to wyrke soche a chyld woo,
That can noder speyke nor goo.
Nor neuer harme did.

II. Woman
He thatt sleyis my chyld in syglit,
Yff thatt my strokis on hym ma lyglit,
Be he skwyar or knyght,
I hold hym but lost.
Se, thow fawls losyngere,
A stroke schalt thow beyre me here
And spare for no cost.

III. Woman
Sytt he neyuer soo hy in saddull,
But I schall make his braynis addull
And here wih my pott-ladull
With hym woll I fyght
I schall ley on hym, as thogh I wode were,
With thys same womanly geyre;
There scball noo man steyre,
Wheddur thatt be be kyng or knyght.

[Here they kill the children.]

I. Myles
Who hard eyuer socbe a cry
Of wemen thatt there chyldur haue lost,
And grettly reybukyng chewaldry
Throgh-owt this reme in eyuere cost,
Wyche many a mans lyff ys lyke to cost?
For thys grett wreyche that here ys done
I feyre moche wengance ther-off woll cum

II. Myles
E! brotbur, socbe talis may we not tell;
Where-fore to the kyng lett vs goo.
For be ys lyke to beyre the peroll,
Wyche wasse the cawser that we did soo.
Yett must the all be broght bym to
With waynis and waggyns fully fryght;
I tro there wolbe a carefull syght.

[They go to Herod.]

I. Myles
Loo! Eyrode, kyug, here mast thow see
How many M thatt we haue slayne.

II. Myles
And nedis thy wyll full-fyllid must be;
There ma no mon sey there-ageyne.

[Enter Nuntius.}

Nuncios
Eyrode, kyng, I schall the tell.
All thy dedis ys cam to noght;
This chyld ys gone in-to Eygipte to dwell.
Loo! sir in thy none land what wondurs byn wroght!

Erode
Into Eygipte! alas, for woo!
Lengur in lande here I canot abyde;
Saddull my palfrey, for in hast wyll I goo,
Aftor yondor trayturs now wyll I ryde.
Them for to sloo.
Now all men hy fast
In-to Eygipte in hast!
All thatt contrey woll I tast,
Tyll I ma cum them to.

Fynes lude de taylars and scharmen.

Tys matter / nevly correcte be Robart Croo / the
xiiij^th dey of marche / fenysschid in the yere of owre Lorde
God / M CCCCC & xxxiiij^te. [1534] / then beyng mayre mastur
Palmar / also mastris of the seyd fellyschipp Hev Cor-
bett / Eandull Pynkard and / John Baggeley.

Theise songes / belonge to / the Taylors and Shearemens

Pagant. / The first and the laste the shepheards singe / and the second or middlemost the women singe.

Thomas Mawdycke

Die decimo tertio Maij anno domimi millessimo quin-
gentesimo nonagesimo primo. [1591] / Praetor fait
Couentriæ D. Mathaeus Richardson, tunc Councelles /
Johanes Whitehead et Thomas Grauener.

Song I.

As I out rode this enderas night,
Of thre ioli sheppardes I saw a sight,
And all a-bowte there fold a star shone bright;
They sange terli terlow;
So mereli the sheppards ther pipes can blow.

Song II.

Lully lulla, thow littell tine child
By by, hllly lullay thow littell tyne child
By by, lully lullay!

O sisters too
How may we do
For to preserve this day
This pore yongling
For whom we do singe
By by, lully lullay?

Herod, the king,
In his raging,
Chargid he hath this day
His men of might
In his owne sight
All yonge children to slay, —

That wo is me,
Pore child, for thee
And ever morne and may
For thi parting
Nether say nor singe,
By by, lully lullay.

Song III.

Doune from heaven, from heaven so hie,
Of angeles ther came a great companie,
With mirthe and ioy and great solemnitye,
The sange terly terlow;
So mereli the sheppards ther pipes can blow,

The Pageant of the WeaversContents

Dramatis Personae

In the Prophet Play (Ll. 1-176)

i. Profeta
ii. Profeta
iii. Profeta [non-speaking]

In the Purification - introduction (Ll. 177-366)

Simeon
Anna
i. Angel
ii. Angel
Clerk

In the Purification - Journey to the Temple and Quest for Doves (Ll. 367-584)

Gabriel
Mary
Joseph
i. Angel

In the Purification proper (Ll. 585-721)

ii. Angel
Simeon
Anna
Clerk
Mary
Joseph

In the Disputation in the Temple (Ll. 722-1191)

Joseph
Mary
Jesus
i. Doctor
ii. Doctor
iii. Doctor

The Prophet Play (Weav)Contents

I. Profeta
Ye grett astronemars now awake,
With youre iaamts fatheres of felosefy
And in-to the oreient reyspecte ye take,
Where nevis and strangis be cum of lately,
Affermyng the seyng of old profecie,
Thatt a star schuld apere
Apon the hyll of Wawse among hus here!

II. Profeta
Ye brethur all, then be of good chere,
For those tythings makyth my hart ful lyght!
We haue desirid many a yere
Of thatt star to haue a syght,
And spesschalli of that kyng of myght
Of whose cumyng we haue playne warnyng
Be this same star aftor profettis desemyng.
Yet furtboTy I pra* you for my larnyng,
Lett has hawe’ sum comenecaciou
Of this star be oldd proostefying
How bit aperid and under whatt fassion.

I. Profeta
Sir, aftur a strange deformacion
As be atorite reyherse I can;
For this same star be interpretacion
Syngnefyth the nateyete of a man;
As the profett Balam
In his text afarmyth right well,

Seying: “Orietur stella ex Jaeobo, et exmrget
homo de Israel.”
He seyd of lacobe a star schuld springe,
Wyche syngnefyith only this same kynge
thatt amongist vs now ys cum.
And as towchyng the letter folloyng:
Et ipse dominabitur omni gen&Nidone,

II. Profeta
Sir, here ma be movid a questeon
Of this nobull prince of soo hi degree,

The wyche of all men schall haue domeneon,
Vndur what maner borne he schuld be,

I. Profeta
Ase ye schall here right wonder-
fulles
I5e devine powar of a virgene pure,

Afarmyng the profeci agenst all nature.

II. Profeta
Where fynde you thai in wholle scrip-
ture
Before pronostefide* this to be done?

I. Profeta
Isaee the profett wrytith full sure,

Ecce Virgo conclpiet, pariet filium!
Balam seyng of the heyvinly wyssedome
A man scbuld spryng here in Isaraell,
The seyd Isayee answeyring to that questeon:
Et vocaJbityxr nomen eius JEmanvel,

II. Profeta
Yett haue I grett marvell,

How thatt men schuld tell

Off such strangis before the fell,

And man beyng here but a mortall creature.

I. Profeta
Be devine powar, I make you sure,

The sprete of prof ece to them was sent,
Soo to subscrybe in wholle scripture,*

And yett them-selfe wyst not watt yt ment.

II. Profeta
Now laude be vnto hym that soche
knoleyge sent

Vnto bus wreychis of pore symplecete.
Where* he ys Lord and God omnipotent,

In this hys wyll to make bus prove!

I. Profeta
Did nott tJiat prof ett man Malache
Eesite vnto bus on this same wyse
thatt the sun of lyff schall spring and arise )

Wyche cawsid Isaee to cast up his iees

Toward hey vin with all his inward syght,

Seying, " Good Lord, afarmyng thy p*omes.

Send downe to bus this wonly sun off myght,
Huse to reystore vnto owre right!

Owt of deserte, from the bard stone,

Reycomfordyng thi dogbtur dwyllyng in Sion! "

Also Jaramo,< thatt wholle mon,

Seyd in beyvin God schuld make seede,

A greyne off Davith, thatt now ys cum,

Wyche eyuer in gracys shall spring and spreyde
And kepe Juda owt off drede

And also Isaraell sett in surenes.

And he schall make jugementis of rightwesenes.

II. Profeta
I wondre to here you this expres,

Be actoris hi, this worthe mystere.
And spesschalle of this ytrtu rightwessenes.

Where hit schalbe vsid and in whatt parte.

I. Profeta
Apon the yarthe bothe wtt/2 hy and loo
degre;
And rightwessenes men schall hym call,

When he schall cum to sit in the see [C s]

Of King Davity tliai most riall stall;
And ther schall he before the pristis all

Of Juda and Ley ve be his powar device,

WM nev * insence to do sacref yce.

To God aboue for the grett offence

Of the peple and for yngnorance,*

Wit there offeringe to make reycompence
For the lenage of Adamt progeny.
This schall this childe by theym free

From all the offencis thatt th& haue done

Be cruell deyth and bytter passion.

II. Profeta
Good Sir, yett under prtdustacion*

Owre feyth thereby for to incresse,
Of this star lett hus haue reylacion,
How hit aperid and vndur whatt fassion,
Yff hit wold pleyse you for to expresse.

I. Profeta
Wit/i diners streymw of grett
brightnes,

A child therm of flagrant swetnes,

Wyche apon his bake a crosse did beyre,

And of an eygull hit bare the lykenes,
Beytyng his wyngis into the eyre;
A woise there-in off lange feyre

Thatt wasse hard throgh-owt the cuntrey,

Seyinge: * Nattcs est nobis oddie rex Judeorxim — et sethere:’

II. Profeta
Of a farthur dcclaracion I wold you praye,
Whatt trybus the were and in whatt parte,

The were date, and whatt maner a wey

They haue mside probate of this profece.

I. Profeta
And thatt schall I scho you right eyvedently.
The grett lordis of the land of Caldy
Fowndid twelve masturs of asestronemy

For to se this star apere;
And when these masturs were eylecte,
On the hill of Wawse er wache the kepte
And the all togedder neuer sclepte
Abowe ix yere.

II. Profeta
And dide the soo longe wache that hill?

I. Profeta
Ye truly, tyll iJiAt hit was this kyngis will

This seyd profece for to fullfyll,
Thatt strange star to send them till,

Whereof the had intellegenee;

That af tur the darkenes of the nyght
In the day hit schone soo bright,
Thatt when the sun and the stare
In the yeyre togeythur warre,

Betwyxt them wasse lyttull or non indyfference.

And soo this stare wasse a srveture
And ynto iij kyngis a playn cundeture
Ynto the mancion of a yirn pure.

II. Profeta
But ar you sure for whatt intent?

I. Profeta
Forsothe to Bedlem streyght the went,

Whereasse the ofifurd to this childe reuerent

Wtt/t grett omage a famti present.

The furst wasse gold, as most myghte kyng;

The seycond wasse myr, asse prist of pristis beyng;

The thryd wasse insence, in tokyning of byrring.

II. Profeta
Yet wold I kno the cawse spesschalljy
Whatt movid these kyngis to cum so hastelj,
And whedor the cam oopan or pievy.

I. Profeta
The star broght them throgh ejnere cuntie;
And eyur as the cam oopunly,
The dide inquere of those neyis;
Eyusr the axid, “Where ys he
Thatt ys borne for to be
The kyng of Juys?”

Therefore lett bus wtt all delegence
Ynto tJiat chyld geye honowre and reyuerence,
And thatt we ma cum vnto his presence
To haue fruyssion of his hi deyit[e].
And, brothur, I thanke you of youre pacyence;
For now att thys tyme departe wyll wee.

II. Profeta
Now, brothur, for youre swete sentence,
Att all tymiff welcum to me —

Loo! fryndis, there may you see
How God in man workith alwey.
Now all we that his servandis be
Hathe grett cawse in hym to joie,
Wyche sendyth bus knoleyge the truth to sey;
And he soo meraculosly wyrkyng iherwith
Thatt of all soycrettis we wryte* the were pyth;

Wherefore moclie cawse haue we to make myrth,
When we reymeiJibur the gloreose birthe
Of this virgyns sun.
He the Seconde Person in the Trenete
Eyquall iih his Fathur in deyite
Aud under the curteyne of owre vmanete,
For hus wold man becum.

Wherefore, here I exsorte you all,
That in this place here asembulde bo,.
Vnto this chyldo for merce cawll,
Wycbe schall reydeme vs apon a tre.
And thatt gloreose blys thatt we ma see,
Wycbe he hathe ordenide for all men
In his selesteall place to be
In saecula seculorum, amen!

Here Semeon intrythe and the last profett gothe ouftt.

Purification - introduction (Weav)Contents

Here Semeon intrythe and the last profett gothe ouftt.

Semeon
the seylesteall Soferent, owre by Gode eternall!
Wycbe of this mervelus world ys the fowndatur,
And create the hy heyvins his one see emperell
With sun, mone and staris, yorthe, sky and wattur —
And al for the sustenance of owre vmayne nature —
With fysche, fowle, best, and eyuere othur thyng,
Vndur hus to haue the naturall cowrs and beyng.

Yett owre formere parence at the begynnyng
Throgh dyssobeydence had a grevose fall
From the hy pales and blys eyuerlastyng
Downe into this* wale off meserabull mvndall;
For the wyche transgression all we ar now mortall,
Thatt before wasse infynite for eyuer to remayne
And now schall take yend be deyth and cruell payne.

Wyche grevoise sorro ofte dothe me conatrayne
Inwardly to syghe and byttur teyris to weph,
Tyll thatt I reymembur the grett comforde ageyne
Of anceant profettis with ther sentens swete,
Wbose fructuus syence of profownde larnyng depe
In there awturs aperith to hus right manefestly.
Of Isaee, Sebbellam, Balam, and Malache.

Lorde of lordis! In hart beseke I the,
Of this infinite worke to send me the tru lyght,
Truly to expownde this seyde wholle profece;
And also of that kyng that I ma haue a syght,
And that we ma walke in his weyis uppright,
The wyche be reydemcion schall hus all reyles.
At whose cumyng the tru ovncion of Juda schall seyse.

Now, Lord, follfyll thatt hy tyme of pes!
For age draith me fast apon.
Fayne wold I see thatt wholle of whollenes.
Or this mortall lyff fro me were gone.
Now, Lorde, ase thow art iij in won,
Grant me grace, yff thatt thy wyl be,
In my nold age that syght for to see!

Then at thy wyll, Lorde, fayne wolde I be,
Yff thow soche grace woldist me sende.
To loove the, Lorde, vfith all vmelyte,
And soo of my lyff then to make an ende!
Yett, Lorde, thi grace to me now extende,
Suffur me rathur yett to lyve in peyne
Then to dy, or thatt I thatt solam syght haue seyne!

[Here Ane eumyth in to Semeon and scythe:]

Ane
sufferent Semeon! With all solemnete,
Thatt of owre gloreose tempull hath the goueanance,
With all dev reuerance here beseke I the
Thi olde frynde in Gode to haue in reymemburance,
The wyche hathe tarrid be a long contenvance
For the comyng of the right Messee,
Wyche hathe byn promysid vnto hus be profece.

Lorde! thogh that I be nothynge worthe
To see the fassion of thi most presseose pyctore,
Yett, Lorde, acsepte me of thi grett marce,
Asse thy pore serwand and feythfull creature.
To se the, Lorde, yff that I myght be sure,
No lenger on grownd wold I reyquere
In this mortall lyff to contenev here.

Semeon
O fey thefull frynde and louer dere!
To you this text ofte haue I tolde,
That the lyght of Leyve amonge vs here
In Isaraell schuld he boght and sold;
Asse avnceant profettis hereof hathe told,
That in this lande here he schuld make surenes.
And he to be cawlid the Kyng of Pes.

Asse Isaee hymselfe herein to wyttnes,
“In facie populorum” this did he sey,
“Cum venerit sanctus sanctorum cessabit unctio vestra.”
And soo when owre ryght blod schall seyse,
Moche yirtu and grace then schall incresse
WiUb hy jugementis of rightwessenes
Amongest hus evyn here in Isaraell.

Ane
Yff thatt I myght abyde that dey,
Thatt wholle off wholleis for to see
Wyche thatt I haue desyrid allwey,
In this worlde well were me.
Now, Lord, and yff thy wyll hit be,
Grant me my hoope, longe lokid fore;
Then joie nor welthe kepe I no more.

Semeon
Now, Ane, systur and dere frynde,
Lett hus bothe with a whole intent
In thys tru feyth owre lyvis yend,
Lawdyng thatt Lorde wyche ys omnipotent;
Wherefore I thynke hyt full expeydente
In conteniall preyar for to indure.
To kno therby his graceose plesure.

Ane
O sofferent Semeon! Thi famus consell
Inwardely gladyth me in my hart.
No-thyng contentyth my mynd soo well.
Wherefore at this tyme woll we departe.

Semeon
Now, Ane, syth that ye wol hence nede
Vnto the tempull with all spede
Owre Lordis wyll for to abyde,
That Lord of lordis be thy gyde
And sende the that wyche thow lovist most;
Botlie heyle and bote for the provide,
Where-eyuer thow goo in any cost!

[Ane goes out.]

Fryndis, now ys hit tyme to prey.
Before that I my rest do take,
My custome hathe yt byn alwey,
Asse long ase eyaer I am awake,
Intersession vnto that Lorde to make
Of hym to obteyne all my reyquest.
And then full peysable to take my rest.

Now, Lorde, that madist all thyng of noght,
Both hevyn and hell and eyuere creature,
Asse thow knoist myn inwarde thoght,
Reycomforde me when hit ys thy plesure;
For I do covett no more treysure
Then the tyme of thy natevete
With my mortall yeeis thatt I myght se.

But asse thow wolt, Lorde, all thyng mvst be.
And reysun hit ys thatt hit be soo;
My wyll therto schall eyuer agre.
My wholle desyre now dost thou kno.
Or thatt I vnto slepe do goo,
I commytt my warkis with all the sircumstance
Wholly vnto thy lawis and ordonance.

[There Semeon settys hym doune to rest, ase hit were, and the Angell seythe to hym:]

I. Angell
Semeon, of thy rest awake;
Owre Lorde in heyvin he sendyth the gretyng
Of my message, with the for to make,
With the, hys f rind, a solame metyng;

Hj8 blessid bode vnto thi kepyng
WiVdn schort tyme schal be broght,
And here in thy tempuU thow schalte be soght

Semeon
Lorde, whence cam this solam noyse
That awoke me here soo suddenly?
My spretis thervfith did soo reyjoyse,
Thatt no longer slepe cowlde I.
Me-thoght he seyde right perfettly,

Thatt solam Sufferent thatt I schulde see

And haue hym here in my custode.

II. Angell
Semeon, thatt Lorde in Trenete

Whom thow hast desirid to see alwey
At thy tempull offurde schal be

Vnto thy honde this same day;

Therfore spede in all thatt thow may,
That the tempull in ordur be
This prynce to reyseyve yri\Ji all vmelete.

[Exeunt the two angels.]

Semeon
Now, Lorde of lordis, thankis be to the!
These gloreose tythyngis that here be tolde
In my hart soo gladith me
Thatt I am lyghtar a M folde
Then eyucr I wasse before.
Therefore wyll I with al my myght
To se my tempull soo presseoosly pyght
In gorgis araye thatt hyt be dyght
This prynce for to ownowre.

There Semeon gothe to his Clarke and seyth:

Now, fryndis all, be of good chere,
And to owre tempull draw we nere;
Soche solam nevis now I here,

Thatt all my spretis dothe glade.
Thatt babe ys borne of dyngnete
Thatt we soo long hathe desirid to see,
Oure Lord and Kyng most myghte,
Thatt all this world made.

Clarecus
Kow blessid mot that lorde be,
Thatt dey and owre thatt we schall see
His gloreose bodde in Trencte,
Thatt flowre that nener schall fade!

Semeon
No lenger, Surs, lett vs abyde,
But to the tempull with all spede
To reyseve the Saueowre of this world wyde
And hym to serve with lowe and drede!
Now, Sirs, loke thatt ye take good hede
To wayte and serve with all delegence,
His grace to ownowre with humble reuerence!

Clarecus
To serue a prynce of soche maimeffecens,
Sir, I wasse neuer wont there-to.
Sythe ye therin hathe more intellegence,
Instructe me, Sir, how that I schuld do,
Lest thatt I do offende;
For rathur then I wolde hym greive,
Thatt Lord on whom I do beleve, —
Yett had I leyuer my-self reymeve
Vnto the worldis yende.

Semeon
Sith thatt ye for knoleyge dothe make sute,
Your wyttis the bettur do I reypute. -
With humble hartis and meke,
Won of hus must holde the lyght
Ande the othur the sacrefyce;
And I on kneis, asse hyt ys right,
The offece to exsersyse
Vnto thatt babe soo swette.

Clarecus
Then hast we this alter to araye
And clothis off onowre theron to laye
Ande the grownde straw we with flowris gay
Thatt of oddur swetely smellis.

Semeon
And when he aprochis nere this place,
Syng then with me thatt conyng hasse
And the othur the meyne space
For joie rynge ye the bellis. Cantant.

[Mary and Joseph with the child have occupied the front part of the pageant.] There Semeon and his Clarks gothe vp to the tempull and Gaberell cumyth to the tempull dore and seyth:

Journey to the Temple and Quest for Doves (Weav)Contents

[Mary and Joseph with the child have occupied the front part of the pageant.] There Semeon and his Clarks gothe vp to the tempull and Gaberell cumyth to the tempull dore and seyth:

Gaberell
Hayle, Mare, meke and myld!
The virtu in the schall neyuer fade.
Hayle, meydyn, and thy chylde,
Thatt all this world made!

Thy seylesteall Fadur wyche ys omnipotent
Of his ambassaye hethur hathe me sent
Vnto the, lade and virgyn reyuerent,
With thy sun, owre heyviñ Kynge!
Unto the tempull thatt thou schuldist goo,
And to whyt turtuls with the also,
And present the chyld and them to,
All iij of them in offeryng.
Spede you forth thatt ye were gone!
But leyve nott ye wold Josoff at whome;
For nedely, lade, he mvste be won
In this sacrcfyce doyng.

Mare
With hart and wyll hit schal be done
In pleysing of that fathur of myght.
Thyddur wyll I bothe hastely and sone
And take with me my child soo bryght.

Gaberell
Then to Josoff goo ye full right.
And make hym preve of this case.
Byd hym hast that he were dyght
To gyd you theddur into that place.
Now rest well, Mare, with moche solas!
For I mvst thiddur asse I cam froo.

[Gabriel goes out.]

Mare
He thatt ys ande eyuer wasse
Be thy gyde where-euer thow goo,
And send hus all of his grace!
I pray here knelynge hit ma be soo.

[Addresses Jesus.]

Kow, cum heddur to me, my darlyng dere,
My myrthe, my joie, and al my chere!
Swetter then eyuer wasse blossum on brere!
Thy swete mowthe now wyll I kls.
Now, Lorde of lordis, be owre gide,
Where-eyuer we walke in cuntreyis wyde,
And these to turtuls for hus provide
Off them thatt we do nott mys!

Here Mare goth to Josoff and seyis:

Rest well, Josoff, my spouse soo free!

Josoff
Now welcum, Mare! Dame, whatt sey yee!

Mare
Swet nevis, husebond, I bring to thee;
The angell of God with me hath be
To geve hus bothe warnyng,
Thatt you and I with a wholle intent,
Aftur the law thatt here ys ment,
Schuld in the tempull owre chyld present
In Jerusalem, ther to make offeryng.

Josoff
Now, Mare, thatt woll I neuer deny;
But aftur my powar for to apply
And thatt you kno, dame, asse well asse I;
You neuer cawll but I am reddy.

Mare
Now, husebond, ye speyke full gentylle;
Therfore loke, Josoff, and ye cold spy
To turtyll dowis, how thatt we myght cum ny:
For nedely turtullis offer mvst we;
Thatt offeryng fawlyth for owre degre.

Josoff
Nay, nay, Mare, thatt wol not be.
Myne age ys soche, I ma not well see;
There schall noo duffus be soght for me,
Also God me saue!

Mare
Swette Josoff, fullfyll ye owre Lordis hestes.

Josoff
Why and woldist thou haue me to hunt bridis nestis?
I pray the hartely, dame, leve thosse jestis
And talke of thatt wol be.

For, dame, woll I neuer vast my wyttis.
To wayte or pry where the wodkoce syttis;
Nor to jubbard among the merle pyttis,
For thatt wasse neyuer my gyse.
Now am I wold and ma not well goo:
A small twyge wold me ouerthroo;
And yche were wons lyggyd aloo.
Full yll then schulde I ryse.

Mare
Ye hardely, Josoff, do nott drede!
Owre Lorde wyll quyte right well youre mede,
And att all tymis be youre spede.
And further you in youre viage.

Josoff
Ey! dame, ey! God helpe hus all!
Me-thynke youre meymorre were small.
On me soo whomly eyuer to call:
You mynde nothynge myne age
But the weykist gothe eyuer to the walle;
Therefore go thyself, dame; for me thow schall,
Ye, or ellis get the a nev page.

Mare
Husebande, these be no womens dedis;
Therefore, Josoff, ye must forthe nedis;
For surely there ys no reymedy.

Josoff
Noo remedy then but I mvst goo ?
Kow be my trowthe, I ma tell you,
Thosse tythingis ar but cold.
Then nedis mvste thatt nedis schall;
And now he thatt ma worst of all
The candyll ys lyke to holde.

Mare
Now, gentyll Josoff, when wyll ye goo
To make an ende of this owre jurney ?

Josoff
That shal be or I have any lust thereto
And thatt dare I boldely sey.

How sey ye all this cumpany
Thatt be weddid asse well asse I?
I wene that ye suffur moche woo;
For he thatt weddyth a yonge thyng
Mvst fullfyll all hir byddyng,
Or els ma he his handis wryng,
Or watur his iis when he wold syng;
And thatt all you do knoo.

Mare
Why sey ye soo, sir? Ye be to blame.

Josoff
Dame, all this cnmpany wyll sey the same,
Ys itt not soo? Speyke, men, for schame!
Tell you the trothe ase you well con!
For the that woll nott there wyffis plese
Ofte-tymis schall suff ur moche dysees;
Therefore I holde hym well at es
Thatt hathe to doo with non.

Mare
Leyve of these gawdis for my lowe;
And goo for these fowlys, Sir, I you pray.
The Fadur of heyvin thatt ys abowe
Wyll spede you well in youre jurney.

Josoff
No reymede but I mvst forthe nede.
Now owre Lord grant me well for to spede!
Loo! feyre wordis full ofte doth leyde
Men cleyne agen there mynd.

Now, Lorde God, thow sende me feyre weddur.
And thatt I ma fynd those fowlis togeddur,
Whytt or blake, I care nott wheddur.
So thatt I ma them fynde!

Mare
Full well schall you spede hardely,
YfF thatt ye goo abowt hytt wyllyngly.

Josoff
Then I woll goo by and by,
Thogh hit be not full hastely.
With all my hart I wol goo spy,
YfF any be in my wey,
I wyll them fynd and I may,
Or thatt I make an ende.

Mare
Now that Lorde, thatt best may,
He be your spede in youre jumey,
Ande good tythyngis of you me send!

Josoff
Yea, he thatt hatth soche on on hym to crawe
He schal be sure, asse Ood me sawe,
Eyuer the worse yend of the staff to haue,
Att the lattur yend.

Here Josoff gothe from Mare and seyth:

I wandur abowt myself alone,
Turtulis or dowis can I non see.
Now, Kyng of heyvin, thow amend my mone;
For I tro I seke nott where the be!

My myght, my strenth ys worne fro me;
For age I am waxun almost blynd.
Those fowlys the ar full far fro me
And werie yvill for me to fynde.

I loke fast and neuer the nere;
My wynd for feynt ys allmost gone.
Lord, benedissete! Whatt make I here
Among these heggis myself alone?

For-were I ma no lengur stond;
These buskis the teyre me on eyure syde.
Here woll I sytt apon this londe,
Ours Lordis wyll for to abyde.

I. Angell
Aryse vp, Josoff, and take no thoght
For these to fowlys thatt thow hast soght.
Evyn to thy hond I haue them broght,
And therefore be off good chere.
Take them here bothe to
And ageyne to Mare thy wyff thow goo
Yn all the hast thatt hit be doo;
Thow tarre noo lengur here!

Josoff
O! lawde be vnto thatt Lorde soo exsellent
For those to fowlis thatt I have soght!
Fullfyllid now ys myn intent;
My hart ys eyyn asse yt oght,
All care fro me ys past,
Now thatt Mare my wyff these birddis had!
For to make hir hart asse glad
To hir wyll I in hast [Returns to Mary.]

Now rest well, Mare; my none darlyng!
Loo! dame, I have done thy byddyng
And broght these dowis for oure offeryng;
Here be the bothe alyve.
Womon, have them in thy honde,
I am full glade I have them fond.
Am nott I a good husbonde!
Ye! dame, soo mot I thryve!

Mare
Now, the Fathur of heyvin that ys abowe.
He quyt you, Josoff, for this dede;
And furthur I pray you for my lowe,
Vnto the tempull lett vs make spede!

Josoff
Ey! bloo a whyle, dame, I the pray!
For soft and essele men goo far.
I haue laborde all this dey;
Yett am I vere lyttull the nar.
I tro thatt I schall neyuer be war.
Soo full of feyre wordis these wemen be,
Thatt men thereto must nedis agre;

And therefore, dame, alsoo mote I the.
Af tur my labur fayne wolde I rest;
Therefore goo thyselfe thow schalt for me.
Or tarre att whome wheddur thou thynkist beste.

Mare
Na, swet husebond, ye do well kno
To goo alone ys not for me;
Wherefore, good sir, I pray you soo
Thatt I ma haue your cumpany.

Josoff
Loo! fryndis, here ma you knoo
The maner of my wyff ys soo,
Thatt with hyr nedis mvst I goo,
Wheddur I wyll or nyll.
Kow ys nott this a cumburs lyff!
Loo! sirs, whait ytt ys to haue a wyff!
Yett had I leyuer, nor to live in strylf,
Apply evyn to hir wyll.

For syth thai here ys no remede,
Take vp youre chylde, I sey, Mare,
And walke we togedur feyre and essele
And soo to stynt all stry we;
And I woll trusse vp thys gere,
For I se well I mvst hit beyre.
At Jerusalem I wold all ye were,
Also mote I thryve.

Mare
There schall we be when God wyll,
For at his plesure all thyng mvst be.

Josoff
Dame, and thatt ys bothe reysun and skill;
Sett forward then and lett me see.

[They continue in the front part of the pageant as if making a journey. An angel appears in the temple.]

Purification proper (Weav)Contents

[Mary and Joseph continue in the front part of the pageant as if making a journey. An angel appears in the temple.]

II. Angell
Awake, Semeon, and drede the noght!
In all the hast thatt eyuer ma be.
And reyseyve that Lord thatt all hathe wroght,
With hym his modur Mare.
Make spede, Semeon, that thow were dyght
To reyseyve thatt chyld with all thy myght
Now schalt thow see the blessidist syght
Thatt eyuer thow didist see.

Semeon
O Lord of lordis! this solam noyse
From the Maker of heyvin and hell.
My hart therewith soo dide reyjoise,
Thatt the myrthe theroff can noo tong tell,
Nor hand with pen subscrybe.
I thanke that Lorde and Kyng of myght,
Thogh all my lust throgh age be worne,
Thatt I schall see this gloreose syght
Blessid be the owre thatt thow wast borne,
This dey that eyuer I do abide.

Now to reyseve this Kyng of pes
Thatt owt of dangyr schall hus reles.
Owre hy merrettis schall he incres
In joiye abundantly;
For here kepe I no more blis,
But thatt he marke me for won of his,
And then whan his swete wyll ys,
Am I evyn redde to dy.

Now, Clarkis, cum forth and do your offes,
And this awter hastely that ye aray;
For here schal be the solamyst sacrefyce
Thatt eyuer wasse seyne in Juda.

Make sure, fryndis, and all thatt ye may
Thatt ordur be hade in eyuere place.

Clarecus
Now that Lord of lordis thatt best may
To do oure devties he grant vs grace!
And for to plese hym to his paye
Sey al you Deo gracias,

Loo! mastur, bothe man and place
Be all redde at your byddyng.

Semeon
Then, surs, cum forthe apase
And myrrele the bellis ryng.

Ane, systur, goo ye with me
For to reyseyve that prince of onowre
And hym to welcum reuerently,
Ase of this world lorde and gouernowre.

Ane
Now, fathur Semeon, I am obeydentt,
Youre graceose pleysure for to obbey.
To serve thatt Lorde wyche ys omnipotent,
Lett vs goo mete hym on the wey.

Clarecus
Mastur, now ar the bellis rong
And redde att hond ys eyuere thyng.

Semeon
Then lett me see with hart and tonge.
How myrrely thatt ye can syng. Cantant.

Here the cum downe with pressession to mete them:

Mare
Heyle, suffurent Semeon so good!
My semely sun here I bryng to the
To offur hym vp in flesche and blode,
Ase be the law he oght to be.

Semeon
Now, wholle Mare and Josofif also,
Ye be ryght welcum vnto this place;
For off God ar ye blessid bothe to
Thatt hath you grondid in soche grace:
And ye, Josoff, of soo grett age
Thatt soche a babe forth can bryng,
In whom all owre reydemcion dothe hyug,
And off this worlde ys lorde and kyng;
This wase a graceose mareage.

Josoff
Now gentill bysschope, I the pray,
Evyn the verre truth thow woldist me sey,
Ys nott this a prette bewey
Asse eyuer thow hast knone?
Now, be hym that, made both heyvin and hell
This lyttull myte I lowe as well,
Asse thogh he were myn oone!

Mare
Reyseyve him, Semeon, with good chere;
The law wyll hit schall so be.
For wyche cawse I bryng hym here:
Here in thi hondis take hym to the.

Semeon
Now welcum, Lord of honowr!
Now welcum, Prince, vnto this place!
Welcum, owre sufferent Saweowre!
Welcum, the Growndr of owre grace!
Welcum, owre joie! welcum, owre myrthe!
Welcum, owre graceose Gouernowre!
Welcum to huse, thatt heyvinly flowre!
Now, blessid be the dey and owre
Of thy gloreose byrthe!

Ane
Now welcum, Kyng of kingis all!
Now welcum, Maker of all mankynd!
Welcum to hus, bothe grett and small!
Good Lord, thy sarvandis now haue in mynd
Thatt longe hath levid here.
In clenes pure withowt offence,
With grett desyris for to be hence;
But now the syght of thy presence
Hath amendid all owre chere.

Clarecus
Now welcum, Lord, vnto all hus,
Thi none tru servandis, as reysun ys!
Welcum, owre God and Kyng of blys,
Owre Lorde, longe lokid fore!
All the profettis thatt of the spake
Seyd thow schuldist, for owre sake,
Fleysche and blod of a meydyn take
Owre joys to reystore.

Semeon
On, on with me, my fryndis dere.
With this chylde thatt we haue here.
Of this worlde the lanterne clere
Of whom all lyght schall spryng!
With hoole hartis, now lett hus praee!
Thatt owre and tyme now blesse we may
That eyuer we abode the dey
Of this chyldis comynge. Cantant

Here Semeon goth to the awtere with the chyld in hys armis and seyth:

Now art thow cum, Lorde, to my honde,
Thogh thatt I onworthe were;
Yett, Lorde, forgave thi pore serwande —

Mare
Whyle the weddur ys soo feyre;
And I woll cum aftur asse I may,
For now att whome I wolde we weyre.

Josoff
To goo before now I woll asaye,
Thogh thatt my fetemanscipe be not full gaye.
I pray God spede vs in oure jurney;
For I schall be were or thatt I cum there.

There Mare and Josoff departis owt of the upper parte of the pagand

Semeon
Loo! fryndis, how God for vs hathe wroght.
And schode hymself here at this tyde!
Blessid mot he be in word and thought
Myghtefull Maker of thys world wyde!

I wasse lame of fote and hand,
And now am whole ase ye ma see.
I thanke thatt Lord of his sond,
And eyuer his servande wyll I be,
Thatt Lorde soo moche of myght.
Now, Lorde of lordis that hath no pere,
Wyche att this tyme wase offurd here,
Sende you all the fruysson clere
Of his heyvinly mancion soo bryght!

Clarecus
And of owre mys he amend vs,
And from owre foys defend vs,
And his hy trone he send vs.
In secula seculorum, amen!

Here gothe Semeon and his Clarkis out of the tempull.

Disputation in the Temple (Weav)Contents

[Mary and Joseph enter the lower front-part of the pageant]

Josoff
Now, Mare, my wyff here present,
Vnto God myche bondon, dame, ar we
Thatt soo goodly a childe here hath vs sent;
In this world a feyrear ther canott be.

Mare
I thanke that Lord omnipotent,
For yt dothe me good hym for to see;
Wherofore, Josoff, I wold he went
Vnto Jerusalem wtt/t you and me. 729.

For now he ys x\j yere of age,

Full well reyconid yt ma be,
Of lymys he waxith feyre and large.

And mocke he desyrith cumpane.

Josoff
Now, dame, he ys a prette page it. ii sj

And, as ye sey, full well cum on.
I kno non soche on of hys age;

I pra God make hym a right good mon.

Mare
Now, Jesus, my son, wtt you whatt chore f

Whatt m[y]ptlie* make ye chyld, this deyl
Thow art he tliatt I love most dere.

My joie, my myrthe and all my pley! —

Iesus
I thanke you, my modur, in all thatt I may;
And at youre hand, I am here
To do you serves, bothe nyght and dey,
And redde alwey to make you chere.

Now, Gods blyasyng haue you and myne! *

Josoff
Loo! fryndis, here doth apere,
Yt ys cyrly scharp thatt wol be thorne.
How glad he ys his modr to pleyse!
And eyuer hathe byn syth he wasse borne.
Thogh thatt my vthe frome me be wome,
Yet in his dedis I have moche joie;
For, in feythe, he woll preve evin a prette bwey.

Cum, my sun, well mot thou theo!
Thow schalt to Jemsalem wtt thi modur and me,
Swn goodly syghtis, sun, for to see
Apon this owre festefawU dey.

Mare
Now truly, Josoff, as ye soy,
Sum vertuos cuwipany I wold we had.

Josoff
Ye, dame, God shal belowre gyde.

Dame, I kepe noo moo but evyn this lad;
For you nor I canot be sade
Thatt dey thai we hyw see,
Mary, you kno thatt I am olde,
And in cuwipany canot be soo bolde,
Asse I wasse wont to be;

Therefore, Mare, leyde ye the wey

And essely lett vs togeddr goo;
Thogh yt be far furth on the dey,
Yett all be owre fryndis I dare wel sey,

And neuer a won owre foo.

Mare
Now, God hold thatt wyche best may;

And, gentyll Josoff, lett vs goo!

Be the hand the chylde wyll I leyde;
I trust the bettur for to spede,

Ande ye,* Josoff, alsoo.

Josoff
Ye dame, lett hym goo before ye and me,

And* be nothyng afrayde!

For the best foteman of hus thre,

In good feyth, dame, thatt ys hee,

Yff he were well asayde.

Iesus
I am full redde vfith you to goo
At your bydding in weyle and woo,
And to do you serves bothe to,

In hart wtt all mekenes.

Cuw on, my mothur, and dred ye noght;
And on your jurney, ase you oght.
The Fadur of heyvin that all hath wroght.

He kepe you from dystres!

Josoff
Now, thys ys wyttele sayde and wyll!
Now, Lord, when I to mynde do call
In vthe when I was werie small,
Many wynturs agone, —
Lord God, benedicete!
Yong chyldur now more wyser be,
Nor wase then an olde mon.

[They set out and travel a while

Mare
Now welcum be owre Lordis sond!
Therefore cum on, gentyll husbond,
The sytte ys evyn at owre honde;
Good cumpany there ma we fymd.

Josoff
£y! ey! dame, in feytli, I can noo more;
My leggis byn were, my fete be soore.
That man thatt canot goo before
Nedis mvst cum behynd.

There the all goo vp to the awter and Iesus before. The syng an antem,

Now, Mare, my wyff, cum hethur to me I
Now, Mare, harke what I shall say!
All thyng ys done ase yt schuld be
And serves song full sollamle
For this owre fostefawll dey.

Mare
Now, huseband, then lett vs iij
Make tho hast thai ma bo
Whom to goo with cumpane
To bryng vs on the wey!

There the goo done into the for pagond and Iesus steylyth awey.

Josoff
Mare, my spretis be ravisschid cleyne,
And clerely cast owt off all woo
With these solam syghtys thatt we haue seyne
In yondur tempull that we cam froo.

Mare
Now, serten, Josoff, you wold not wene
Whatt myrthe I make withowt woo,
Thatt my chyldo with hus hathe bene
And those solam syghtis seyne alsoo.

Josoff
Then whomwarde, Mare, lett vs goo
Whyle thatt we haue the lyght ofE the day;

For you haue eyuer lovid cumpany,

For yt dothe schorttun well youre wey.

Yett in good owre we ma bothe eey,
For othur did we neyuer fynde.

Mare
Alas! Josoff, and well-awey!
Now haue we lefte owre chyld behynd.

Josoff
Whatt! Mare, I sey amend thy chore!
Pardy 1 dame, he dothe but as othur done;
Chyldur togedur woll draw nere,
He woll I warrand ouertake vs sone.

Mare
Ouertake vs sone? quotha nay! sertes na!
Whatt nede you me soche talis to tell!
He ys gon sum othur wey,
Or serten, Josoff, he ys not well.

Josoff
Dame, he ys nott far awey.

From vs no man wyll hym wyle.

Mare
Hyt helpyth not, Josoff, soche wordis to sey;

My chylde ys gone, alas the whyle!

Josoff
We schall haue [hym], dame, or hit be longe,

Yff we serche well yondur sy tte;
Sum chyldur there he ys amonge.

Or elis surely whomwarde ys he.

Mare
Off sorro now schal be my songe.

My chylde ageyne tyll I ma see.

Josoff
Dame, of his welfare I wold be glade.

And of the othur I wolde be woo;
Therefore, Mare, no more be sade,

But agene to the sytte lett vs goo.

Mare
Make hast, Josoff, thatt we were there;
For had I neuer more lust thereto.
Bake agane lett vs reypeyre;
For thatt ys best for vs to do.

Here Mare and Josoff goth downe into the tempull-warde.

I. Doctor
Now, lordyugis, lystun to me a whyle;
Wyche hathe the lawis vndur Londe,
And thatt no man fawll in soche perell
Agenst any artyccullfor to stand;

For tlie comen statute of this lande
Woll that all soche personys schulde be tane
And in the face of peple ooponly slayne.

II. Doctor
K! and the othur wholle decryis ageyne,
Wyche vnto Moyses wonly wasse sent
In tabulis of ston only to reymayne

Vndur an hy and streyte cummaiidement,
AVycho at thys tyme we thyuke couvenent

Tlu»rt-aiK>n to holde dyssepyssions* here

lUi }>olutiko syence of clarge clero. ’

III. Doctor
AVherofore, all peple, now draw nere

And in this place gewe your atendence.
How ye schuld ly ve, hero ma you lere

Aconlyng vnto your aleygence;

For yt ys woll knono vnto thys presence
Thatt doctoria wo ar mifl of hy degre,
Anil hiuio the la wis in custode.

Till’ Inw of

I. Doctor, Ley forth youre reysonis; now lett mo see
How lawo of loygence oght to bo lade,

AVycho of tho Ebruys subscribyd bo

’Wiih othur of Moyses thatt now ys hade.
To contend heroin I wold be glade

Aniowge tho peplo here manofestly,

And tho trutho expownd"* to them oopinly.

[Jesus comes in.]

Iesus
Lordis, moche lowe \Yith you be lent,
And pes be amongo this cumpany!

III. Doctor
Sun, awe I wold thow went,
For othur haft in hand haue we.

II. Doctor
Chylde, who-soo-eyuer the hyddur sent,
The were not wyse thus warne I the;
For we haue othur talis to tent,
Then wit chyldur bordyng to bee.

I. Doctor
Good sun, thow art to yonge to larne
The hy mystere of Mosees law;
Thy reysun canot yt deserne,
For thy wytt ys not worthe a strawe;
And no marvell thogh thow schuldist be rawe,
In soche hy poyntis for to be reysonyng
For of age art thow a vere yonglyng.

Iesus
E! Surs, whatt-soo-eyuer to me you sey,
Me nedith not of you to lerne nothyng.

II. Doctor
This besse bweye of his tong
All secrettis surely he thynkith he knois.

III. Doctor
Nay, serten, sun, thow art to yonge
Be clarge clere to kno owre lawis.

Jesus
Ye doctoris all, thatt be present,
Suffyce and mvse no more off me;
For off your lawis the wholl intent,
No-thyng theroff ys hyde froo me;
For in those placis haue I be
Where all owre lawis furst were wroght.

I. Doctor
Cum, sett the here and we schall see!
For sarten, sun, soo semys yt noght.

There the Doctoris settyth Cryst among them.

Now were yt nott a wondurs thyng,
Thys chylde owre reysuns that he schuld reyche?
And yett he seyth he hath a felyng
Owre lawis truly for to teyche.

Iesus
Suris, the whoole goste in me hath lyght,
Thatt my powar ys to preyche;
And of the Godhed most of myght
Most perfettly here ma I teyche.

III. Doctor
Whense cam thys chylde, I marvell
score,

Thatt speykyth to vs this mystecawUy I

Iesus
Sure, I wasse all you before

And aftur you agen schal be.

I. Doctor
Surs, ys nott this a wondurs thyug,

And also a moche more mervell I
How-be-yt, surely, in his workyng,

The actis thereof ma folio right well;

For ase Dauith in his salme dothe tell,
Be chyldur yong, seyng of them.
Ex are infancium et lactancium jpev/edtfti laudem,

Of chyldurs mothis, ye kno right well,
God hath performyde* loving;

But of such on hard I neuer tell,
He beyng but soo yong a thyng. [f. i4]

Yett, sun, suTTi-whatt thow schuldest haue let

In this place here to speyke so large;
Where nobull doctors togeddur are met,

There chyldurs wordis ar at no charge.

For sure, yff thow woldist neuer so fayne,

Labur thi wyttis to leme owre la we;
Yett art thow nodur of myght nor mayne

To perseyve thatt ase a clark ma knoe.

Iesus
My wordis in noo wyse wole I reyfrayue,

The trawthe thereby for to debaiTC;
I woll them prove both platt and playne

Be youre one la wis, and neuer arre.

II. Doctor
Mastur[s] * all, whatt ma this meyne!

I wondur score how this can be;

Soo yong a chylde haue I nott seyne

Wi\h clarkis to talke soo conyngle.

III. Doctor
Ase wyde in wor[l]de asse eyuer I went,

Saw I neyuer non soche before;
But I troo amonst vs he be sent

To be the saluer of owre sore.

Iesus
Suris, I woU prove be actoris evedent
Har mystereis than eyuer you red or saw.

I. Doctor
Sey, sun, wyche wasse the furst commandement
Thatt wasse subscribyd in Moses lawe?

Iesus
Sythe all you masturs togethur be sett
And youre bokys here leyde on breyde,
Ley forthe youre reysunis and do nott lett
How right thatt ye can rede.

II. Doctor
I rede this in the furst byddyng,
Wyche Moses dyd rede vs vntill,

Furst honor God aboue all thyng

With all thy hartt and all thy wyll,

And asse thy-self love thy neybur
And in noo wyse to do hym yll.

Iesus
Ye nede noo nodur bokis to bryng;

But these to pwyntis for to insev,
In whome the whole afecte* doth hynge

Of all owre* lawis bothe olde and nev.

III. Doctor
Syth he these to, son, hath the schoide.
Tell me the othur, chylde, I the pra.

Iesus
The thryd beddith the, in any wey,
Thatt of thy labur thow schuldyst reste,

And truly kepe thy Sabett day,
Thy-selfe, thi serwande, and thy best.
The forthe bydithe the do thy best
Thy fathur and mothur for to honowre;
And when ther goodis are decrest,
With all thy myght thow schuldist them succure.

The fyfte cummandythe for any reygur

Man nor woman that thou schuldist kyll.
To fle advltre ys anothure,
And all thatt towchis any yll.
Tlio vij seyifl thow schuldyst noU steyle

I1iy iieyburis goodiB, more nor les.
The viij forbyildyth the to cownsayle
Or to bare any fawls wyttines.

The ix^th forbyddyth othys grett.
In any wise thou schuldist not sweyre;
The last wold thou schuldist not covett
Thy neyburs goodis, hym to apere;

And this Mosees, amonge vs here,
Hatho declarid amonge all men,
Aftur scripture that we schulde lere,
How to kepe those commandementis X.

I. Doctor
Beholde, owre lawis how he dothe expownde,
Thatt neuer larnyd on boke to rede!
Then all we, he ys moche more profownde
In all trawthis, yff we take hede.

II. Doctor
Brother, lett hym goo his weyis;
For yff this abrode were knone perfettly.
The peple wolde gove him more prese
Then we docturs for all owre clarge.

III. Doctor
Ye fryndis bothe, syth yt is soo,
He knois no farthur of owre lore;
But asse he cum soo let hym goo,
For with vs he schall medyll no more.

There cumyth Josoff and Mare sekyng the chylde and Mare seyth:

Mare
A! dere Josoff, whatt ys youre redde?
Of my grett dolor noo bote ma be;
My hart ys heyve as any leyd,
My cliylde ageyne tyll I ma see.
We have hym soght in many a stedo,
Vp and downe these deyis iij;
And wheythur that he be quyke or ded,
I do not kno thatt; woo ys mee!

Josoff
In sorro wasse there neyuer man more,
But mornyng ma nott ytt amend;
Mare, wyfF, lett vs therefore
Take the grace that God woll send.

YfE chyldurs cumpany he haue coght,
Abowt yondur tempull he ys full right.

[They turn toward the temple.]

Mare
A! Josoff, I see that I haue soght!
In this worlde wasse neuer soche a syght.
See, husebond, where he syttyth aloft
Amonge yondur masturs soo moche off myght.

Josoff
Now blessid be hym thatt hethur vs broght,
For now in hart I am full lyght!

Mare
Josoff, ye kno the ordur well,
Goo ye and feyche youre chylde and myne.
Now I see hym owt of all peryll,
Whom he schall with vs ageyne.

Josoff
Ey! Mare, wyff, ye kno ryght well,
Asse I haue tolde you many a tyme,
With men of myght durst I neyuer mell.
Loo! dame, how the sytt in there furis fyn!

Mare
To them youre arand for to sey,
Therein, Josoff, ther ys no perell;
The haue reygardid you alwey
Because of age, this wott I well.

Josoff
To them, wyff, whatt schulde I sey?
In feythe, I do nott knoo full wele.
Surely, I schall be schamyde to-dey;
For I cane nothur croke nor knele.

Mare
Then goo we theddur bothe to
To them that sytt soo worthe in wede;
Yff ye woll not the arrande doo.
No reymedy but I mvst nede.

Josoff
E! dame, goo tell them thi tale futst;

For lyke tho}i art to do thatt dede.

I wold tell luyne and I dunt,

[I come be-hynde] also €rod me spede.

[They go up toward the altar.]

Mare
A! Iesus, Iesus my sun soo swete,
hy gooyng froo me soo suddenly
I lathe cawsid vs bothe for to wepe
With byttur teyris abundantly.

Thyn olde fathur here and I
For thy sake, sun, hathe lykyd full yll.
Owre yis the were but seldum dry,

But now thatt we ar cu;/< the tylL

Iesus
Modur, why did you seek me soot

Hyt hathe byn oft seyde vnto you,
My Fathurs wyll I mvst fullfyll

In eyucrc* pwynt, for well or woo.

Mare
Sun, these talis thatt you me tell

Aso yet I canot vndunstaud;
But my hart, this kno I we]l,

Ys were glade I haue the fonde.

I. DocTOB, Xow truly, dame, no mervell ys

Thogh thow in hart were full woo
To lose soche a divide asse this.

How long, wytf, hathe he byn thee froo I

Mare
Syr, yt ys now these dayis iij,
Sy th that he departid f urst fro me;
I am full [glade] * here hym to see

Alyve wtt/iowt* woo.

Iesus
Now farewell, masturs of myght arid mayne!

For with my modur now must I nede
For to reycomford hyr ageyne,

Wyche soo longe for me hath levid in drede.

I. Doctor
Now thatt Lorde of lordis be thy spede They invite

Where-eyuer thow goo in any quost!
But yff thow wolt tarre, thow schalt not nede
Any moro to put thy fryndis to cost.

III. Doctor
How seyhst thow, fathur, for thy

goo[d]* wyll,
Wolt thow grant thi help thyre-tyll, . P. i6]

Awey thatt he do not goo 1

Josoff
Noo, StV, in good feyth, that I nyll, Joseph and

M&ry object.

Nor neyuer forgoo hym be my wyll,

Nodur for frynde nor foo.

A long whyle we have hym myst.
And gone he wasse, or thatt I wyst;
But hade I hym wonis be the fyst.

He schall noo more doo soo I

Mare
Now, lordyngis, of your curtesse,
Do ye nott wyll my chylde fro me;
For W2t my wyll yt schall nott be,

Whyle thatt owre lyvis last.

I. Doctor
Then yt is noo bote for to intreyte. More fiure-
Thy chylde I see I canot gete;

I tro yt be but wast to speyke,

Thatt tyme I thynke ys past.

Iesus, Now lordyngis all, with youre lysence,
Good tyme yt ys thatt we were hence;
I thanke you of youre hy sapence
Thatt I wit you haue hade.

II. Doctor
Now, sun, when-eyuer thow cumyst this wey,
Be bold of hus, I the praye.
Yfy thow to age lyve may.

Thy fryndis ma be full glade.

Mare
Now farewell, lordis of hy degre!

I take my ley ve at you all three;
Thatt Lorde thatt ys in Trenete,

He kepe you all from care!

Josoff
And for the fynxiyng of this oure suij,

In heyvynis blysse thatt we ma wone,
And geve you well to fare.

Now, cum on, Mare, YfiiJi myrre chere,

And brynge youre chyld with you here;

At Nazarethe now I wold wee weyre.

Mare
Sir, in good tyme wee schall cum there;

The wey and weddur and all ys feyre,

Whereoff am I right fayne.

Josoff
In this place why le we ar here,
Loke thatt we haue all owre gere,
Thatt we cum nott agayne.

Mare
Josoffe, husebonde, we myse nothyng;
But at youre wyll lett vs be gooyng

Asse fast ase eyuer we can.
Ande now att all this cumpany.
My ley ve I take and that full humbly;

Vnto thatt Lorde most myghty

Now I betake you eyuere mon.

Josoff
Now farewell, my fryndis all!
For I mvst goo whatt-eyuer befall;
Nedis mvst that nedis schall.

Be me here may you kno.
A! thatt all you ma vse thatt weyis.
At all tjmis youre wy vis to pleyse;
Then schall you awoide moche dysees.
God grsmt thatt you ma do soo!

[They go out]

I. Doctor
Now, ye lordis thatt hathe the lawis to leyde,
Marke well the wordis thatt hathe byn seyde
Be yondur chylde of wysedome grett,
Wyche at this tyme amonge vs here
Declarid owre lawis be clarge clere,
Wyche be his actis dothe apere,

Thatt of God he ys eylecte!

II. Doctor
Now surely yt can no nothur be,
For lie ys nott levyng thai eyiier see
Soch hy knoleyge of exselence
In soo tendur vthe;
For in owre moste hyist dysspecionis,
To them he gawe tni solyssionys,
And also made exposysionis
Acordyng to the truthe.

III. Doctor
Ys not thys a wondurs case,
Thatt thiB yonge chylde soche knolege base ?
Now surely he hath asposschall grace,

Soo hy dowtis desemyng;

Thatt we wyche nobuU docturs be,
And gradudis gret of old antequete.
And now on this place vfitli yonge infance

Ageyne ar sett to larnyng.

I. Doctor
JSTow, bredur bothe, be my consell

These myghtte matters you sett on syde.
And in avoidyng of more pe’ell

Thatt here-apon myght betyde;

Therefore lett vs no lengur abyde
In these cawsis for to contende.
For iMs dey ys almost at an yende.

II. Doctor
Now, brethur bothe, syth yt ys soo,

Ase vere nature dothe me compell,
Here my trowthe I plyght you to

In hart for eyuer vfiili you to dwell.

III. Doctor
Now, masturs all, be won assent,
All owre matters reyjurnyd be,
Tyll thatt a dey of argument
Ma be apwyntyd indyfferentle;
Where all you, the comenalte,
You ma departe on this condyssion,
Thatt ye atende at the next monyssion.

I. Doctor
Now, fryndis, tochyng owro festefall dej,
Ys there oght els thai I ma sey t

II. Doctor
No more now, bate evyn awey.
For the nyght drawls fast apon.

III. Doctor
And of youre cumpany I wold you pra.
And here I take my leve at eyvere mon.

Tys matter nevly translate be Robert Croo in the
yere of oure Lord God Mdxxxiiij, [1534] then beyng meyre
Mastur Palmar, beddar; and Rychard Smythe and
Herre Pyxley masturs of the Weywars; thys boke
yendide the seycond day of Marche in yere above seyde.

Thomas Mawdycke

Song I.

Rejoyce, rejoyco, all that here be!
The Angell these tythyngs hath browght,
That Simion, before he dye,
Shalle se the Lorde which all hathe wrowght;
Wlierefore now let vs all prepare
Owre temple that yn order be!
For he hathe put awey owre care,
The Seconde Persone in Trinitye.

Rychard.

Song II.

Beholde, now hit ys come to pase,
That manye yeros before was tolde,
How that Christ, owre ryght Messyas,
By Jwdas scholdo be bowght and solde!
For owre offence he man became,
His fathers wrathe to pacyfye,
And after, mekely as a lamb,
Vpon the crose there dyd he dye.

Lorde! as thou hast bowght us all,
And suffryd at Mownt Callverye,
Recownfort us bothe gret and small,
That yn thy trewth we lyve and dye!

James Hewyt.

FinisContents

2022 Jul 05 13:02:11