The Wryghtes and Sklaters Plaie

Pagina sexta de salutacione et nativitate salvatoris Jesu Christi.

Heale be thou, Marye, mother ffree,1
Full of grace, God is with thee,
Amonge all wemen blessed thou be,
And the frute of thy bodye.
Ah, Lorde, that sittes highe in see,5
That wounderouslye nowe marvailes me,
A symple mayden of my degreey
Be grete this graciouslye.
Marye, ney dreed thee naughte this casse;9
With greate God founde thou haste
Amonge all wemen especiall grace:
Therfore, Marye, thou mone
Conseave and beare, I tell thee,
A childe, his name Jesus shalbe,
So greate shalbe never non as he,15
And called Godes sonne.
And our Lorde God, leve thou me,17
Shall geve hym David his fathers see,
In Jacobes howse raigne shall he,
With full mighte ever more.
And he that shalbe borne of thee,
Endlesse liffe in hym shalbe,
That suche renowne and royalltye23
Hade never non before.
Howe maye this be? thou arte so brighte,25
In synne knewe I no worldlye wighte.
The Holye Ghoste shall in thee lighte27
From God in magistie,
And shadowe thee seemlye in sighte;
Theirfore that holye, as I have teighte,
That thou shalte beare, through Godes mighte,
His sonne shall called be.
Elizabeth, that barren was,33
As thou maie se, conseaveid has
In age a sonne through Godes grace;
The keydell shalbe of blysse.
The seixte month is gone nowe againe
Seith men called her barene,
But nothinge to Godes mighte and mayne39
Impossible ys.
Nowe seith that God will yt be so,41
And suche a grace hath sente to me,
Blessed ever more be he!
To pleaise hym I am paide.
Loe! Godes cossen meklye here,
And Lorde God, prince of power,
Leve that yt falle in such manere,47
This worde that thou haste saide.

Tunc ibit angelus, et Maria salutabit Elizabeth:

Elizabeth, nice God thee see!
Marye, blessed moste thou be,50
And the frute that comes of thee
Amonge wemen all.
Wonderlye nowe marvailes me,
That Marye, Godes mother freye,
Greetes me this of symple degreey.
Lorde, howe maie that befalle?56
When thou me greeteste, sweete Marye,57
The childe stored in my bodye,
For greate joye of thy companye,
And the frute that is in thee.
Blessed be thou ever for-thy,
That leived so well and steadfastlye!
For that was saide to thee, ladye,63
Fullfilled and done shalbe.

Maria gaudens incipit canticum Magnijicate, et dicat Maria

Elizabeth, theirfore will I65
Thanke the Lorde, kinge of mercye,
With joyfull meirth and melodye,
And lawde to his lekinge.
Magnijicate while I have to me,
Anima mei, domine,
To Christe that in my kinde is come,71
Devoutlye I will singe.
Et exultamt spiritus meus in Deo;
And for my ghoste joyed haste
In God, my heale and all my grace,
For meknes he se in me was
His feare in manye degree.77
Therfore blesse me well maie78
All generacions for aye,
Moche hase that Lorde donne for me,
That moste is in his magistie,
All princes he passes in postie,
As sheweth wel by this;
Theirfore with full harte and freey,84
His name allwaye hallowed be,
And honoured allwaie ever more be he,
And highe in heaven blisse.
Moche hase God done for me to daie,88
His name aye hallowed be aye,
As he is bounde to do mercye,
From progenye to progenye,
And all that dreaden hym verelye,
His tallente to fulfill.
He through his mighte gave maisterye,94
Dispersces prowde did pitiouslye,
With mighte of his harte hastelye,
At his owine will;
Disposeith mightie out of place,
And meeke also he hansced has,
Hongarye, nedye, wantinge grace,100
With good he hath fulfilled.
That riche power he hath forsaken,102
To Isarell his sonne he hath betacken,
Wayle to man through hym is wacken,
And mercye has of his owine,
As he spake to our fathers before,
Abraham and his seede for yore;
Joye to the Father evermore,108
The Sonne and the Hollye Ghoste,
As was from the begininge,
And never shall have endinjre.
From worlde to worlde aye weildinge,
Amen! God of mighte moste.
Marye, I rede no we that we gone114
To Josephe thy husbande anon,
Leste he to messe thee make mone,
For nowe that is moste neede.
Elizabeth, nice, to doe so good ys,118
Leste he suppose on me amysse;
But the Good Lorde that hath ordeyned this,
Will wyttnes of my deede.
Josephe, God thee save and see!122
Thy wife I have broughte to thee.
Alas! alas! and woes me!124
Who hase made her with childe
Well I wiste an oulde man and a maye
Mighte not accorde by noe waye;
Nor manye wynters mighte I not plaie,
Ner worcke no worckes wilde.
Three monthes shee hase bene from me,130
Nowe hase shee gotten here, as I see,
A greate bellye like to thee,
Since shee wente awaie;
And myne it is not, be thou boulde,
For I am bouth oulde and coulde;
These thirtie wynters, thoughe I woulde,136
I mighte not plea no leaie.
Alas! where mighte I lenge or lende!138
For loth is me my wife to shende,
Therfore from her will I wende
Into some other place.
For to discreve her will I naughte,
Fowlye though shee have wroughte,
To leave her prevelye is my thoughte,144
That no man knowe this case:
God lette never an oulde man
Take hym a yonge woman,
Nay sette his harte her uppon,
Leste he besrilede be.
For accorde their maye be non,150
Nor the maye never be at one;
And that is seene in manye a one,
As well as one me.
Therfore when I have slepte a while,154
My wife that can me thus begyle,
For I will goe from her, for her to file
Me is loth in good faye.
This case makes me so heavye,
That nedes slepe nowe muste I:—
Lorde, on her thou have mercie,160
For her misdeede to daie.
Josephe, lette be thy feible thoughte,162
Take Marye, thy wife, and dreed the naughte,
For wickedlye shee hath not wroughte,
But this is Godes will.
The childe that shee shall beare, i-wysse,
Of the Holye Ghoste begotten is,
To save mankinde that did amisse,168
And prophescie to fullfill.
A! nowe I wotte, Lorde, yt is soe,170
I will no man be her foe,
But while I maie on earth goe
With her I wilbe;
Nowe Christe is in our kinde lighte,
As the prophescye before heighte.
Lorde God, moste of mighte,176
Withe wayle I worshippe thee.
Make rombe, lordinges, and geve us waie,178
And lette Octavian come and plaie,
And Syble the Sage, that well fayer maye
To tell you of prophescye:
That Lorde that died on Good Frydaie,
He save you all bouth nighte and daye.
Fare well, lordinges, I goe my waye,184
I maye noe longer abyde.
I proveid prince, moste of postie,186
Under heaven higheste am I,
Fayereste food to feighte in fere,
Noe frecke my fface maye fleye.
All this worlde withouten were,
Kinge, prince, baren, bachelere,
I maye destroye in greate dangere,192
Through vertue of my degreey.
My name Octavyan called ys,194
All me aboute full in my blysse,
For whollye all this worlde, i-wysse,
Is readye at my owine wille.
Noe man one live dare doe amisse
Againste me, I tell you this:
Maye no man saye that oughte is his,200
But my leave be theirtill.
For I halffe multiplied more202
The cittye of Rome, seith I was bore,
Then ever did anye me before,
Seith I hade this kingdom;
For what with strockes and strengths sore,
Leadinge lordshippes lovelye lore,
All this worlde nowe hase bene yore208
Tributarye unto Rome.
Segurrs tous se asmeles210
Jeo posse fay re lerment et leez
A mes probes estates et mete in langore
Tous se prest me fortes
De fay ere intentes movelentes
Car Jesu soyavorayn bensages
Et demaunde emperower216
Jeo si persone mile seable Jeosu tent fayer
Et leabele entransorce me creaca
Meas detole plerunte destrette et sage
Saen comecch amie ondem et ou pusell
Declaan sanke et mater frayle un
Tellnest pace um.
Kinge, coysell, clarke, or kinge,223
Soundens solitaryes in sighte;
Princes, prese here nowe dighte,
And presente in this place:
Peace, or heare my truth i-plighte,
I am the manlieste man of mighte,
Takes mynde of my mase.229
All lordes in lande be at my likinge
Castill, conquerowre, and kinge,
liayne be to my byddinge,
It will non other be.
Righte I thinke, so moste it be,234
For all the worlde dose my willinge,
And bayne when I byde bringe
Homage and feoalitie.
Seithen I was lorde, withouten lesse,
With my witte I can more increasse
The empier hier then ever it was,240
As all this worlde it wiste.
Since I was soveraigne warre cleane can cease,242
And through this worlde nowe is peace,
For so dreade a ducke sate never one dese
In Rome, that you maie truste;
Therfore as lorde nowe likes me,
To prove my mighte and my postie,
For I will sende aboute and see248
Howe manye heades I have.
All the worlde shall wrytten be,250
Greate and small in eiche degreey,
That dwell in shier or in cittie,
Kinge, clarke, knighte, and knave.
Eich man on pennye shall paie;
Therfore, my bedell, doe as I saye.
In medeste the worlde by anye waie,256
This gammon shal begyne;
The folke of Jewes in good faye
In medeste bene, that is no naye,
Therfore theider daye by daie,
And traville or thou blyne.
Warne hym that their is presedente,262
That this is fullye myne intente,
That eich man appeare presente
His pennye for to paye.
And by that penye, as well apente,
Knowledge to be obediente,
To come by geiste of such a rente,268
From that tyme after ever.
When this is done this in Judye,270
That in the medeste of the worlde shalbe,
To eiche lande, shier, and cittie,
To Rome make them so thralle.
Warne them, boye, I comaunde thee,
The doe the same, saye this from me,
So all this worlde shall witte that we276
Bene soveraigne of them all.
Have done, boye, arte thou not bowne?
All readye, my lorde, by Mahounde,279
No tayles tuppe in all this towne
Shall goe further without fayle.
Boy therfore, by my crowne,282
Thow muste have thy warrysoun.
The highest horse besydes (B)[r]oughton
Take thow for thy travell.
Graunt mercye, lord, perdye,286
This hackney will well serve mee,
For a great lord of your degree
Should ryde in such araye.
The bine hye in dignitye,
And alsoe high and swifte is hee;
Therefore that reverans takes yee,292
My deare lord, I you praye.
But your arrand shalbe donne anone,294
First into Judye I will gone,
And sommon the people, everychone,
Both shire and eke cyttye.
Boye, their be ladyes manye a one,298
Amonge them all chouse thee one
Take the faiereste, or elles non,
And freelye I geve her thee.
Primus Senator
From my lorde Octavyan we be sente,302
From all Rome with good intente,
Thy men their have iche on i-mente
As God to honour thee.
And to that poynte we be sente,
Poore and riche in parlimente,
For so loved a lorde veramente308
Was never in this cittie.
Secundus Senator
Yea, seicker sir, their will is this,310
To honoure thee as God with blesse;
For thou did never to them amisse,
In worde, thoughte, ner deede.
Peace hath bene longe, and yet is,
Noe man in thy tyme loste oughte of his;
Therfore their will is so, i-wisse,316
To quitte you this your meede.
Welekome, my frendes, in good faye!318
For you be welekome to my paie;
I thanke you all that ever I maie
The homage ye doe to me;
But follye it were, by manye a waye,
Suche soveraigntye for to assaie,
Seinge I muste dye I wote not what daie324
To desyer suche dignitie.
For all the fleshe, bloode, and bone,
Man I am borne of a woman,
And siccker other matter non
Sheweth not righte in me:
Nether of iron, tree, nor stone,330
Am I not wroughte, ye wotte eichone,
And of my liffe moste parte is gone.
Age sheweth hym soe, I see;333
And godheade askes in all thinge
Tyme that hath no begininge,
Ne never shall have endinge,
And non of thes have I.
Wherfore by vereye proffe shewinge,
Though I be higheste worldlye kinge,339
Of godhead have I noe knowinge;
It were unkinde.
But yeate inquier of this wilbe,342
At her that hath grace for to se
Thinges that afterwarde shalbe,
By ghoste of prophescye.
And after her lawe, by my bewtie,
Disscussinge this difficallitie,
Worcke and take no more on me,348
Then I am well worthye.
Sibell the Sage, tell me this thinge,350
For thou witte haste as no man livinge,
Shall ever be anye eairthlye kinge
To passe me of degreey?
Yea, sir, I tell you without leasinge,354
A barne shalbe borne blesse to bringe,
The which that never hade begininge,
Ner never shall endinge have.
Sybbell, I praye thee especiallye,358
By signe thou woulde me certiffye,
What tyme that lorde so royallye
To raigne he shal begyne.
Yea, I shall tell you witterlye,362
His signes when I see verelye;
For when he comes through his mercye,
On mankinde he will mynne:
Well I wotte and south, i-wysse,
That God will bringe mankinde to blesse,
And sende from heaven, leve well this368
His sonne our savyour.
Jesu Christe nothinge ameisse
Called he shalbe and ys,
To overcome the devill and his countise,
And be our conquerower.
But what tyme, sire, in good faye374
That he will come, can I not saye,
Therfore in this place will I praie
To greateste God of mighte:
And yf I see oughte in your paie,
Ghostlye by anye waye
Warne you I shall this daie,380
And shewe yt in your sighte.

Tunc orat Sibbella, et dicatpreco alia voce.

Peace, I byde, kinge and knighte,382
Men and wemen, and iche wighte,
Tell I have toulde that I have tighte,
Stande stiffe bouth still and stronge;
My lorde Octavian, moche of mighte,
Commaundes you shoulde be readye dighte,
Tribute he will have in heighte388
Of all this worlde aboute.
He will have wrytten eiche cuntreye,390
Castill, shier, and eke cittie,
Men and wemen, leeve you me,
And all that be theirin.
A penye of eich man have will he,
The valewe of tenne pence it shalbe,
To knowledge that he hath soveraigntye396
Fullye of all mankinde.
A! Lorde, what doth this man nowe heare!398
Poore mens weale is ever in were:
I wotte, by this bolsters beare,
That tribute I muste paye;
And for greate age and no power
I wane no good this seven yeaire,
Nowe comes the kinges messingere,404
To gette all that he maye.
With this axe that I beare,406
This perscer and this nagere,
A hamer all in feare,
I have wonnan my meate.
Castill, tower, ne manere,
Had I never in my power;
But, as a symple carpentere,412
With thes what I mighte gette.
Yf I have store nowe anye thinge,414
That muste I paye unto the kinge,
But yet I have a likinge,
The angell to me toulde;
He that man out of balle bringe,
My wife hade in her kepinge,
That seemes all good to my likinge,420
And makes me more boulde.
A! leifle sir, tell me, I thee praye,422
Shall poore as well as riche paye?
By my faye! sire, I hope naye,
That were a woundrous wronge.
Good man, I warne thee, in good faye,426
To Bethlem to take the waye,
Leste thou in danger fall to daye,
Yf thou be to longe.
Nowe, seith it may no other be,430
Marie, sister, nowe hye we,
An oxe I will take with me
That their shalbe soulde;
The seilver of hym, so mote I thee!
Shall fynde us in that eittye,
And paye tribute for thee and me,436
For theirto we be houlde.
A! Lorde, what maye this signifie?438
Some men I see glade and merye,
And some all sickinge and sorye:
Wherfore so ever yt be,
Seith Godes sonne came man to for-bye,
Is comen through his greate mercye,
Me thinke that man should kindlye444
Be glade that sighte to see.
Marye, Godes mother deare,446
The tockeninge I shall thee lere,
The comon people, as thou seiste heare,
Are glade, as the well maye,
That the shall see of Abrahames seede
Christe come to helpe them in ther neede,
Wherfore the joye withouten dreed452
For to abyde this daie.
The mourninge men, take this in mynde,
Are Jewes that shalbe put behynde,
For the passeth out of kinde,
Through Christe at his cominge;
For the shall have no grace to knowe458
That God for man shall lighte so loe;
For shame on them that sone shall shooe,
Theirfore the be mourninge.
Marie, sister, south to saye,462
Harber I hope gette we non maie,
For greate lordes of stowte araye
Do occupye this plase;
Wherfore we muste, in good faye,
Lie in this stable tell it be daie;
To make men meeke, leeve I maie,468
Shewe hym heare will he.
Helpe me downe, my leffe fere,470
For I hope my tyme be nere,
Christe in this stable that is here
I hope borne wilbe.

Tunc Josephe accipiet Mariam in brachia sua.

Come to me, my sweete deare,474
The treasure of heaven without were;
Welckome in full meke manere
Hym hope I for to see.

Tunc statuet Mariam inter bovem et asinam.

Marie, sister, I will assaie478
To gette towe mydwyffes, yf I maie;
For though in thee be God vereye
A-comen againste kinde;
For usage here of this cittie,
As manners sake as thinkes me,
Towe I will feche anon to thee,484
Yf I maie anye fynde.

Josephe [ad] obstetrices

Wemen, God ye save and see!486
Is it your will to goe with me?
My wife is comen into this cittie
With childe, and tyme is nye;
Helpe her nowe, for charittye!
And be with her tell daie be,
And youer travayle, so mote I thee!492
I shall paie you righte heare.
All readye, good man, in good faye,494
We will doe all that ever we maie;
For towe suche myddwifes, I dare saie,
Are not in this cittie.
Come, good man, leade us the waie:498
With Godes helpe, or it be daye,
That we can good thy wife shall saie,
And that thou shalte well see.
Loe! Marye, sweete harte, broughte I have here502
Towe mydwifes, for the manere,
To be with thee, my darlinge deare,
Tell that it be daye.
Sir, the be welckome withouten were;506
But God will worcke of his power
Full sone for me, my leiffe fere,
As beste is nowe and ever.

Tunc paululum acquiescunt

A! Josephe, tydinges arighte,510
I have a sonne, a sweete wighte,
Lorde, thanked be thou, moche of mighte!
For proved is thy postie.
Paine non I felte this nighte,
But righte so as he in me lighte,
Comen he is here in my sighte,516
Godes sonne, as thou maie see.

Tunc Stella apparebit.

Lorde, welckome, sweete Jesu,518
Thy name thou hadeste, or I thee knewe;
Nowe leeve I the angelles wordes trewe
That thou arte a cleane maie;
For thou arte comen mans blesse to brewe,
To all that thy lawe will shewe,
Nowe mans joye begineth to newe,524
And joye to passe awaie.
Lorde, blessed muste thou be,526
That symple borne arte, as I see!
To prive the devell of his postie,
Comen thou arte to daie;
Fyne clothes is non for thee;
Therfore thy sweete bodye freey
In this crache shall lye with lee,532
And be lapped aboute with haye.
A! deare Lorde, heaven kinge,534
That this is a marvelous thinge,
Withouten teene or travelinge,
A fayer sonne shee hase one;
I dare well saye for south, i-wisse,
That cleane mayden this woman is,
For shee hathe borne a childe with blesse,540
So wiste I never non.
Be stille, Tebell, I thee praie!542
For that is false, in good faye.
Was never woman cleane maye,
And childe withouten man?
But never the latter I will assaye,
Wheither shee be cleane maie,
And knowe it yf I can.548

Tunc Salome tentabit tangere Mariam scpu secreto, et statim arescent manus ejus, et clamando dicat.

Alas! alas! alas! alas!549
Me is betyde a sorye case;
My handes be dryed up in this place,
That feelinge non have I.
Vengance on me nowe is lighte,
For I woulde temp[t]e Godes mighte
Alas! that I cam here to nighte,555
To suffer suche anoye.

Tunc apparet Stella, et veniet angelus dicens ut sequitur.

Wemen, beseeke this childe of grace,557
That he forgeve thee thy treaspas,
And ever thou goe out of this place,
Holpen thou shalbe:
This mirackle nowe, that thou seeiste here,
Is of Godes owine power,
To bringe mankinde out of dangere,563
And mende them, leeve thou me.
A! sweete childe, I aske mercye,565
For thy mothers love, Marye,
Though I have wroughte wrechedlye,
Sweete childe, forgeve it me. —
A! blessed be God,! all wholle am I!
Nowe leve I well and seckerlye,
That God is comen man to for-bye,571
And, Lorde, thou arte he.
Lo, lordinges all, of this mirackelle here573
Free Barthelemewe, in good manere,
Beareth wittnes withouten were,
As plaied is you beforne;
Another mirackle, yf I maie,
I shall rehearse, or T goe awaie,
That befell that same daie579
That Jesus Christe was borne.
We reade in cronackles expresse581
Some tyme in Rome a temple was,
Made of suche greate riches
That wounder was witterlie;
For all thinges in it, leve you me,
Was silver, goulde, and riche pearle;
The thirde parte the worlde, as reade we,587
That temple was worthye.
Of eiche provinges that boke mynde mase,589
Their godes image their sette was,
And eicheone aboute his necke base
A seilver belle hanginge;
And one his breste written also
The landes naimes and goodes bouth too,
And sette also in medeste of thoe,595
God of Rome righte as a kinge.
Aboute the howse also meaninge theire597
A man on horse stoode men to steare,
And in his hande he bare a speare,
All pewer dispitiouslye:
That horse and man was made of brasse,
Torninge aboute that image was,
Save certene preistes their mighte non passe603
For devilles fantesye.
But when that anye lande withe battill605
Was readye Rome for to assaile,
The godes I meane withouten fayle
Of that lande range his belle,
And torned his face dispitiouslye
To god of Rome, as rede I,
In tockeninge that their wente readye611
To feightinge freshe and fell.
The image also above standinge,613
When the bell beneath beganne to ringe,
Torninge hym all sharplie shewinge
Towarde that lande his speare:
And when the see this tockeninge,
Rome ordeyned without taryeinge
And oste to kepe their torninge619
Longe or the came their.
And in this maner southlye,621
By arte of negremonscye,
All the worlde witterlye
To Rome were made lowte.
And in that temple their dowtles
Was called theirfore the Temple of Peace,
Through his sleate battill can cease,627
Throughout the worlde aboute.
But he so cuninglye this worcke caste,629
Asked the devill, or he paste,
Howe that temple it shoulde laste
Tha[t] he their can builde.
The devill answered suttellye,
And saide it shoulde laste sickerlye,
Untell a mayden womanlye635
Hade conseaved a childe.
The harde and beleeved theirfore637
Yt shoulde indewer for evermore,
But that tyme that Christe was bore
Yt fell downe sone in hie.
Of which howse is seene this daie,
Somewhat standinge, in good faye,
But no man dare goe that waie643
For feindes fantasye.
That daie was seene veramente645
Three sonnes in the firmamente,
And wonderlye togeither wente,
And torned into one.
The oxe, the asse, their the be lente,
Honoured Christe in their intente,
And more mirackles, as we have mente651
To playe righte here anon.

Tunc ostendent stellam, et veniet Sibella ad imperatorem,

Sir emperower, God thee save and see!653
I tell you trulye that borne is he
That passes thee of postie;
Loke upon highe after me,
That barron thou seiste greate shalbe
To passe all kinges and eke thee,
That is borne or ever shalbe.659
O Sibelle, this is a wounderous sighte!660
For yender I see a mayden brighte,
A yonge childe in her armes clighte;
A brighte crosse in his heade.
Honoure I will that sweete wighte
With incense with all my mighte,
For that reverence is moste righte,666
Yf that it be thy reade.
Incence bringe I commaunde in hie,
To honoure this childe, kinge of mercye.
Shoulde I be God? ney, ney, witterlie,670
Greate wronge I wiste it were.
For this childe is more worthye
Then suche a thousande as am I;
Theirfore to God moste mightie
Incense I offer heare.

Tunc angellus cantabit ‘hec este ara Dei, cela fiant notam, secundum arbitrium agentis’.

A! Sybell, heares not thou this songe?676
My members all it goeth amonge,
Joye and blesse maketh my harte stronge,
To heare this melodye;
Trulye it maye non other be
But this childe is prince of postie,
And I his subjecte, as I see:682
He is moste worthy.
Yea, sir, thou shalte leeve well this,684
Somewhere in earth borne he is,
And that he cometh for mans blisse
His tocken this can shewe.
Reverence hym I rede, i-wisse,
For other God ther non is:
He that hopeth otherwise dothe amisse,690
But hym for Christe to knowe.
Sires, senatores, goes whom anon,692
And warne my men everye icheone,
That suche worsjiippe I muste forgone
As the woulde doe to me;
But this childe woishippe iche man,
With full harte all that you can,
For he is worthye to leeve upon,698
And that I nowe well see.
And, Lorde, whatever this maie be,700
This is a wounderous sighte to see,
For in the starre, as thinketh me,
I see a full faier maye.
Primus Senator
Sir, shall this childe passe ye704
Of worthynes and dignitie?
Suche a lorde, by my lewtie,
I wende never hade bene non.
Lordinges, that this is vereye,708
By vereye signe knowe ye maie,
For in Rome, in good faye,
Ther as thes thinges was seene,
Was builde a chourshe in noble araye,
In worshipe of Marye that sweete maye,
That yet lasteth unto this daie,714
As men knowe that their hath bene.
And for to have full memorye716
Of the angelles melodye,
And of this sighte seckerlye,
The emperower their knewe,
The churche is called Saynte Marie,
The sirname in a Racali,
That men knowe well theirby722
Tha[t] this was fullye trewe.
Another mirackle I fynde also,724
A christes birth fell thoe,
When Salome attempted to knowe
Wheither shee was a maye,
Her hande rotted, as you have seene;
Wherby ye maye take good teene,
That unbeleffe is a fowle syne730
As you have seene in this place.

Finis. Deo gracias I per me Georgi Bellin. 1592.

Come, Lorde Jesu, come quicklye.

2023 Sep 26  11:45:55