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There the profettis gothe furthe and Erod cumyth in, and the messenger.
Nonceose.
Faytes pais, dñyis, baronys de grande reynowne!
Payis, seneoris, schevaleris de nooble posance!
Pays, gentis homos, companeonys petis egrance!
Je vos command dugard treytus sylance.
Payis, tanque vottur nooble Roie syre ese presance!
Que nollis persone ese non fawis perwynt dedfferance,
Nese harde de frappas; mayis gardus to to paceance,—
Mayis gardus voter seneor to cor reyuerance;
Car elat vottur Roie to to puysance.
Anoñ de leo, pase tos! je vose cummande,
E lay Roie erott la grandeaboly vos vmport.

Erode.

Noncios.
Now, lord and mastur, in all the hast
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 soght
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, viallis, and othur armone
Schall bles the wakyng of my maieste.

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

ii. Rex.

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.

iii. Rex.
Hayle, cumly kyngis augent!
Good surs, I pray you, whedder 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.]
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 myght!
Thy commandement ys right;
In-to thy land ys comyn this nyght
iij kyngis and with them a grett cumpany.

Erod.
Whatt make those kyngis in this cuntrey?

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

Erode.
Of whatt age schuld he bee?

Noncios.
Skant twellve deyis old fulle.

Erod.
And wasse he soo late borne?

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

Erod.
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.
But I warne the that thy wordis be mylde,
For there must thow hede and crafte wey[lde]
How to for-do his powere; and those iij kyngis shalbe begild.

Noncios.
Lorde, I am redde att youre byddyng
To sarve the ase my lord and kyng;
For joye there-of, loo, how I spryng
With lyght hart and fresche gamboldyng
Alofte here on this molde!

Erode.
Then sped the forthe hastely,
And loke that thow beyre 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.

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

Erode.
Brethur, then ys there no more to sey,
But with hart and wyll kepe ye your jurney
And cum whom by me this same wey,
Of your nevis thatt I myght knoo.
You schall tryomfe in this cuntre
And with grett conquorde bankett with me,
And thatt chyld myself then woll I see
And honor hym also.

ii. Rex.
Sir, youre commandement we woll fullfyll
And humbly abaye owreself there-tyll.
He thatt weldith all thyng at wyll
The redde way hus teyche,
Sir kyng, thatt we ma passe your land in pes!

Erode.

iii. Rex.
Now fare-well, kyng of hy degre,
Humbly of you owre leyve 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.]
Now these iij kyngis are gon on ther wey;
On-wysely and on-wyttely haue the all wroghte.
When the cum ageyne, the schall dy that same dey,
And thus these vyle wreychis to deyth the schalbe broght,—
Soche ys my lykyng.
He that agenst my lawis wyll hold,
Be he kyng or keysar neyuer 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 myght!
Where ys this star thatt gawe vs lyght?

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

iii. Rex.
Yondur, brothur, I see the star,
Where-by I kno he ys nott far;
Therefore, lordis, goo we nar
Into this pore place.

There the iij kyngis gois in-to the jesen, 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 preste[h]od 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,
In to-cunyng thow schalt mankynd restore
To lyff be thy deyth apoñ a tre.

Mare.
God haue marce, kyngis, of yowre goodnes;
Be the gydyng of the godhed hidder ar ye sent;
The provyssion off my swete sun your weyis whom̃ reydres,
And gostely reywarde you for youre present!

[As the kings go away, they say:]
i. Rex.
Syr kyngis, aftur owre promes
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.
Brethur, 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, Sir Jespar,
Kyng of Arraby, Sir Balthasar,
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 schuld goo downe be west
For drede of Eyrodis fawls be-traye.

i. Rex.

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 wrothe,
Now fare-well brothur, and brothur also,
I take my leve here at you bothe
This dey on fete.
Now he thatt made vs to mete on playne
And offur to Mare in hir jeseyne,
He geve vs grace in heyvin a-gayne
All to-geyder to mete!

[They go out, and Herod and his train occupy the pageant.]
Nuncios.
Hayle, kynge, most worthist in wede!
Hayle, manteinar of curtese throgh all this world wyde!
Hayle, the most myghtyst that eyuer bestrod a stede!
Ha[y]ll, most monfullist moñ in armor man to abyde!
Hayle, in thyne hoonowre!
Thesse iij kyngis that forthe were sent
And schuld haue cum ageyne before the here present,
Anothur wey, lorde, whom the went,
Contrare to thyn honowre.

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

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

ii. Myles.
Well seyd, fello, my trawth I plyght.
Sir 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, that me dere 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 sworne, 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 warne you bryng ham be-fore my syght.

[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. Womon.
I lolle 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 styll, 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 mañ-chyldur, dy the mvst this dey,
For at Eroddis wyll all thyng mvst be.

ii. Myles.
And I in handis wonys them̃ 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. Womon.
He thatt sleyis my chyld in syght,
Yff thatt my strokis on hym ma lyght,
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 with my pott-ladull
With hym woll I fyght.
I schall ley on hym, a[s] thogh I wode were,
With thys same womanly geyre;
There schall noo man steyre,
Wheddur thatt he be kyng or knyght.

[Here they kill the children.]
i. Myles.
Who hard eyuer soche 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! brothur, soche talis may we not tell;
Where-fore to the kyng lett vs goo,
For he ys lyke to beyre the perell,
Wyche wasse the cawser that we did soo.
Yett must the all be broght hym to
With waynis and waggyns fully fryght;
I tro there wolbe a carefull syght.

[They go to Herod.]
i. Myles.
Loo! Eyrode, kyng, 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 cum to noght;
This chyld ys gone in-to Eygipte to dwell.
Loo! sir, in thy none land what wondurs byn wroght!

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