University of Virginia Library

[Scene VI

The Temple, as before: enter Simeon.]

Haill! blyssed babb, that Mary bare,
And blyssed be thy mother, Mary mylde,
Whose wombe that yeildyd fresh and fayr,
And she a clean vyrgen ay vnfyld.
Haill babb, the Father of Heven own chylde,
Chosen to chere vs for our myschance;
No erthly tong can tell fylyd
What thy myght is in every chance.
Haill! the moost worthy to enhance,
Boldly thowe beylde [us] frome all yll,
Withoute thy beylde we gytt grevance,
And for our deydes here shulde we spyll.
Haill! floscampy, and flower vyrgynall,
The odour of thy goodnes reflars to vs all.
Haill! moost happy to great and to small
for our weyll.
Haill! ryall roose, moost ruddy of hewe.
Haill! flower vnfadyng, both freshe ay and newe,
Haill the kyndest in comforth that ever man knewe,
for grete heyll.
And mekly I beseke the here where I kneyll,
To suffre thy servant to take the in hand,
And in my narmes for to heue the here for my weyll,
And where I bound am in bayll to bait all my bandes.
[Takes the babe in his arms.
Now come to me, lorde of all landes,
Come myghtyest by see and by sandes,
Come myrth by strete and by strandes
on moolde.
Come halse me, the babb that is best born,
Come halse me, the myrth of our morne,
Come halse me, for elles I ame lorne
for olde.
I thanke the lord God of thy greet grace,
That thus haith sparyd me a space,
This babb in my narmes for to inbrace
as the prophecy tell[es].
I thanke the that me my lyfe lent,
I thanke the that me thus seyll sent,
That this sweyt babb, that I in armes hent,
With myrth my myght alwais melles.
Mellyd are my myndes ay with myrth,
Full fresh nowe I feyll is my force,
Of thy grace thowe gave me this gyrth,
Thus comly to catch here thy corse
moost semely in sight.
Of helpe thus thy freynd never faills,
Thy marcy as every man avaylls,
Both by downes and by daylls,
Thus mervelous and muche is thy myght.
A! babb, be thowe blyssed for ay,
For thowe art my savyour, I say,
And thowe here rewles me in fay,
In all my lyfe.
Nowe blist be þi name!
For thowe saves hus fro shame,
And here thou beyld vs fro blame,
And frome all stryfe.
Nowe care I no moore for my lyfe,
Sen I have seen here this ryall so ryfe,
My strength and my stynter of stryfe,
I you say,
In peace lorde, nowe leyf thy servand,
For myne eys haith seyn that is ordand,
The helth for all men that be levand,
here for ay.
That helth lorde hais thowe ordand, I say,
Here before the face of thy people,
And thy light hais thowe shynyd this day,
for evermore
To be knowe of thy folke that was febyll.
And thy glory for the chylder of Israell,
That with the in thy kyngdome shall dwell,
Whan the damnyd shall be drevyn to hell
than with great care.

Jos.
Mary, my spowse and madyn mylde,
In hart I marvell here greatly
Howe these folke spekes of our chylde;
They say and tells of great maistry,
that he shall doo.

Mar.
Yea, certes, Joseph I marvell also,
But I shall bere it full styll in mynde.

Jos.
God geve hyme grace here well to do,
For he is come of gentyll kynde.

Sym.
Harke! Mary, I shall tell the þe truth or I goo,
This was putt here to welde vs fro,
In redemption of many and recover also,
I the say.
And the sworde of sorro thy hart shal thyrll,
Whan thowe shall se sothly thy son soffer yll,
For the well of all wrytches þat shall be his wyll
here in fay.
But to be comforth agayn right well thowe may,
And in harte to be fayne the suth, I the say,
For his myght is so muche thare can no tong say nay,
here to his wyll.
For this babb as a gyant, full graythly shall glyde,
And the myghtiest mayster shall meve on ylke syde,
To all the wightes that wons in this worlde wyde,
for good or for yll.
Tharefore babb, beylde vs, that we here not spyll.
And fayrwell, the former of all at thy wyll,
Fayrwell! starne stabylyst by lowde and be styll,
in suthfastnes.
Fayrwell! the ryolest roose that is renyng,
Fayrwell! the babb best in thy beryng,
Fayrwell! God son, thowe grant vs thy blyssyng
to fynd our dystresse.