University of Virginia Library

There the scheppardis 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.
Now hartely, sir, I desyre to knoo,
Yff hytt wolde pleyse you forto schoo,
Of whatt maner a thyng.

i. Profeta.
Were mystecall vnto youre heryng,—
Of the natevete off a kyng.

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

i. Profeta.

ii. Profeta.
Why, hath sche a chyld?

i. Profeta.
E! trust hyt well;
And neuer the las
Yet ys sche a mayde 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 regalette,
Schuld jonyd be
Vnto owre mortallete!

i. Profeta.

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

i. Profeta.
Whatt more reypriff
Ys vnto belyff
Theñ to be dowtyng?

ii. Profeta.
Yet dowtis oftymis hathe derevacion.

i. Profeta.
Thatt ys be the meynes of comenecacioñ
Of trawthis to haue a dev probacion
Be the same dowts reysoning.

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

i. Profeta.
Ondowtid sche ys cum 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 chy[l]dis lenage.

ii. Profeta.
And why in thatt wysse?

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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-ow[t] naturis prejudyse.

i. Profeta.
Nay, no prejvdyse vnto nature, I dare well sey;
For the kyng of nature may
Hawe all at his one wyll.
Dyd not the powar of God
Make Aronis rod
Beyre frute in on day?

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 owre nede
That he frayle nature did take,
And his blod he schuld schede
Amens forto make
For owre transegression;
Ase yt ys seyd in profece
That of the lyne of Jude
Schuld spryng a right Messe,
Be whom all wee
Schall haue reydemcion.

i. Profeta.
Sir, now ys the tyme cum,
And the date there-of ruñ,
Off his Natevete.

ii. Profeta.
Yett I beseke you hartele
That ye wold schoo me how
Thatt this strange nowelte
Were broght vnto you.

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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, the 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 herdmeñ dyd hym see.

i. Profeta.

ii. Profeta.
Sir, a! but when these scheppardis had seyne hym there,
In-to whatt place did the repeyre?

i. Profeta.