SONGS AND CAROLS 
 
 MANUSCRIPT IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM 
 
 jFiftecntfj CTenturg* 
 
 EDITED EY 
 
 THOMAS WRIGHT, Esq., M.A., F.S.A., etc. 
 
 CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, 
 (ACADEMIE DES inscriptions ET BELLES LETTRES.) 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY T. RICHARDS, 37, GREAT QUEEN STREET. 
 
 M.DCCC.LVI. 
 
w^^ 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 The Sloane MS. No. 2593, in the British Museum, 
 has been long known to the literary historians of 
 the English middle ages, and several of the songs 
 contained in it have been printed. I myself, when 
 first entering on the study of this class of literature, 
 edited a selection from it in a small black-letter 
 volume published by the late Mr. Pickering. Since 
 that time, another volume of the same kind, and 
 containing second copies of some of its contents, 
 fell into my hands accidentally, and I edited it 
 entire for the Percy Society, under the title of 
 Songs and Carols, now first printed from a 
 Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century. As far as I 
 have been able to ascertain, these are the only col- 
 lections of the kind known to exist ; they are both 
 of them apparently the song-books of minstrels; 
 
 
and they are both curious for the character and 
 variety of the poetical effusions they contain, and 
 for the interesting illustration they afford us of 
 contemporary pojoular sentiments ; they are both 
 also of about the same date. The Sloane MS., from 
 which the present collection is printed, has been 
 generally ascribed, from the character of the writing, 
 to the reign of Henry VI. I have thought, there- 
 fore, that it would not be unacceptable to the 
 readers of our old poetry, if I gave a complete 
 edition of the Sloane Manuscript, as a companion 
 to the volume printed for the Percy Society. 
 
 One of these songs. No. Hi, p. 73, furnishes us with 
 curious data for fixing more exactly the joeriod at 
 which it at least was composed, if we could identify 
 the circumstances alluded to in it. The reader, or 
 rather the hearer, of this song, is reminded, as so 
 many memorials of the frailty of human affairs, of 
 certain great disasters which, at the time it was 
 composed, were fresh in people's memories. The 
 first of these were the " dear years three,'' in which 
 multitudes of people died of hunger; the next were 
 two pestilences of a fearful description ; after this 
 came a tempest — a wind's blast — which blew down 
 steeples, and was accompanied with terrible thunder 
 
and lightning, by which the priory of the Carmelites, 
 and the tolbooth at Lynn, in Norfolk, were burnt. 
 This last circumstance would fix the date imme- 
 diately, but unfortunately I have not been able to 
 discover any historical notice of the event to which 
 it alludes. Pestilences and famines were rather 
 common during the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- 
 turies, and when described in general terms are not 
 easily identified. After a comparison of the events 
 of this kind mentioned in the old chronicles, I am 
 inclined to think, however, that the two pestilences 
 mentioned in our song are those two celebrated pes- 
 tilences of the fourteenth century (occurring in the 
 years 1349 and 1361-2) which are commemorated 
 in the well-known popular poem of Piers Plough- 
 man, and that the " wyndes blast '' of our song is 
 the terrible south-western wind of the same remark- 
 able poem, which occurred on the 15th of January, 
 1362, and of which we are there told — 
 
 He preved that thise pestilences 
 
 Were for pure synne, 
 
 And the south-westrene wynd 
 
 On Saterday at even 
 
 Was pertliche for pure pride, 
 
 And for no point ellis ; 
 
 Pyries and plum-trees 
 
Were puffed to the erthe, 
 In ensaumple that the segges 
 Sholden do the bettre ; 
 Beches and brode okes 
 Were blowen to the grounde, 
 Turned upward hire tailes, 
 In tokenynge of drede 
 That dedly synne er domes-day 
 Shal for-doon hem alle. 
 
 Piers Ploughman, I. 2500. 
 
 Stowe says of this tempest, "The king held his 
 Christmas at Windsore, and the xv. day following 
 a sore and vehement southwest winde brake forth, 
 so hideous, that it overthrew high houses, towers, 
 steeples, and trees, and so bowed them, that the 
 residue which fell not, but remained standing, were 
 the weaker/' The first of the two pestilences was 
 followed by a period of excessive dearness, which I 
 suspect was identical with the three dear years of 
 our song. 
 
 Now the great pestilences of the fourteenth 
 century were certainly well remembered for two 
 centuries afterwards, but they were remembered 
 not as the two pestilences, but as the three pesti- 
 lences, of which the third occurred in the year 1369. 
 If I am right, therefore, in explaining the allusions, 
 
this song must have been originally composed be- 
 fore the third pestilence, or between 1362 and 1369, 
 and probably very soon after the former year. 
 
 Of course this date would apply only to the 
 particular song in question, and it proves nothing 
 as to the age of the others ; but I think we may 
 fairly infer from it, that the songs contained in 
 these two collections do not by any means belong 
 to the particular age of the manuscripts in which 
 they are found, but that they belong to a numerous 
 class of popular literature which were preserved in 
 the memory of the sort of people who sang them, 
 during several generations, and that some of them 
 were only at times copied down by accident in 
 collections like the two which I have edited, which 
 we may therefore regard as very curious monuments 
 of the minstrel lore. All this explains the great in- 
 correctness with which they are written, and the 
 numerous variations we find where we have more 
 than one copy of the same song, which would 
 naturally arise in taking it down from the memory 
 of different persons at different times. The collection 
 printed for the Percy Society is the more curious 
 of the two, both because it contains a larger pro- 
 portion of songs not of a religious character, and 
 
because some of them are accompanied with the 
 musical notes. 
 
 I will only add that in editing the Sloane MS. I 
 have followed the same principle adopted in the 
 volume printed for the Percy Society, of strictly 
 following the manuscript, even in its errors, many 
 of which are in themselves philologically curious. 
 The Latin, especially, is in many cases extremely 
 corrupt. 
 
 Thomas Wright. 
 
 14, Sydneij Street, Brompton, 
 A2)ril, 185(i. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Thou wost wol lytyl ho is thi too. 
 
 Man, loke thou have this gys, 
 Quat sum evere thou xalt doo, 
 
 Of thi speche the wil avys, 
 
 Thou wost wol lytil ho is thi foo. 
 
 Man, rewle thi tunge in swych a gys, 
 That non mysspeche come the froo ; 
 
 For than thou dost as the wys, 
 Thou wost wol lytil ho is thi foo. 
 
 Idil speche I rede thou spys, 
 
 Lok to horn thou seyst thi wil too ; 
 
 Qwether thou stonde, walke, or ryde, 
 Thou wost wol lytil ho is thi foo. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 The bryd seyde on his devys, 
 
 Thou mytyst telle sum man thi woO; 
 
 He wol it were dublyd thryis ; 
 Thou wost wol lytil ho is thi foo. 
 
 If thou wyt beryn awey the prys, 
 
 Lestene this song and synge the too, 
 
 Of thi speche the wil avys, 
 
 Thou v.-ost wol lytil ho is thin foo. 
 
 II. 
 
 Now bething the, gentihiian, 
 How Adam dalf and Eve span. 
 
 In the vale of Abraham 
 Cryst hym self he made Adam, 
 And of his rybbe a fayr womman, 
 
 And thus this semly word began. 
 
 " Cum, Adam, and thou xalt se 
 The blysse of paradis that is so fre ; 
 Therin stant an appil-tre, 
 
 Lef and frewt growit theron. 
 
 Adam, if thou this appil ete, 
 Alle these joyis thou xalt fov5ete, 
 
SONGS AND CATIOLS. 
 
 And the peynis of helle gctc." 
 
 Thus God hym self warnid Adam. 
 
 Quan God was fro Adam gon, 
 Sone after cam the fend anon ; 
 A fals tretour he was on, 
 
 He tok the tre, and krep theron. 
 
 '' Quat eylyt the, Adam, art thou wod ? 
 Thi lord hajt tawt the lytil good, 
 He wolde not thou understod 
 Of the wyttes that he can. 
 
 Tak the appil of the tre, 
 And ete therof, I bidde the, 
 And alle hese joyis thou xalt se. 
 Fro the he xal hedyn non." 
 
 Quan Adam hadde that appil ete, 
 Alle hese joyis wern forjete, 
 Non word more myjt he speke, 
 He stod as nakyd as a ston. 
 
 Than cam an aungil with a swerd, 
 And drof Adam into a disert ; 
 Ther was Adam sore aferd. 
 
 For labour coude he werkyn non. 
 
 B 2 
 
SONGS AXD CAROLS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Alle mayclenis, for Godes grace, 
 Worcliepe ^e seynt Nicolas. 
 
 Seynt Nicholas was of gret poste, 
 For he Avorchepid maydenis thre. 
 That wer sent in fer cuntre 
 
 Common wommen for to be. 
 
 Here fader was man in powre aray, 
 Onto his dowteres he gan say, 
 '^ Dowteres, 5e must away, 
 
 Non lenger kepe 50U I may. 
 
 Dowteres, myn blyssing I 50U 5eve, 
 For catel wil not with me thryve, 
 56 must with 50wre body leve, 
 3our worde3e must dryve." 
 
 The eklest dowter swor, be bred of qwete, 
 '* I have levere beggyn myn mete, 
 And getyn me good qwer I may gete, 
 Than ledyn myn lyf in lecherie." 
 
 The medil dowter seyde, so mote che the^ 
 ** I hadde levere hangyd and drawyd be 
 
SONGS AND CAHOLS. O 
 
 With wylde hors to or thre, 
 
 Than ledin myn lyf in lecherie." 
 
 The jongere lechery gan to spyse, 
 And preyid saynt Nicholas, as che was wise, 
 " Saynt Nicholas, as he was wyse, 
 Help us fro lecherie." 
 
 Saynt Nicholas, at the townys ende, 
 Consoylid tho maydenis horn to wynde, 
 And throw Godes grace he xulde hem synde 
 Husbondes thre good and kind. 
 
 God that alle mytes may, 
 Helpe us at our ending daye. 
 
 This word, lordingges, I understonde. 
 May be lyknyd to an husbonde, 
 That taket a ferme into his honde 
 To jelde therof serteyn pay. 
 
 Spende we neyther speche ne spylle, 
 Neyther for good ne for ille. 
 We xuln 3evyn acountes grylle 
 
 Beforn our Lord on domys daye. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Leve lordynges, be war of this, 
 For oftyn t5'ine we don amys, 
 Ther is non of us i-wys 
 
 But that we trespasyn every day. 
 
 This word, lordynges, is but a farye, 
 It faryt ry3t as a neysche weye, 
 That now is wet and now is dreye, 
 
 For sothe serteyn, as I 50U say. 
 
 Now is joye and now is blys, 
 Now is balle and bitternesse ; 
 Now it is, and now it nys ; 
 
 Thus pasyt this word away. 
 
 Now I hope and now I synge, 
 Now I daunce, now I sprynge, 
 Now I weyle and now I wrynge, 
 
 Now is wel, and now is way. 
 
 Now I hoppe and now I daunce. 
 Now I preke and now I praunce ; 
 This day heyl, te morwe perchaunce 
 
 We mown be ded and ley in clay. 
 
 At domis day quan we xul ryse, 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 And come beforn our heye justyse, 
 
 And 3evyn acoimtes of our scrvise, 
 
 And payin up our laste pay, 
 
 Help US; Mary, for than is nede ; 
 
 Help to excusyn our misdede, 
 
 As thou art monewere at our nede, 
 
 Help us than, and sey not nay. 
 
 Y. 
 
 flos de Jesse vh-gula, 
 Laus tibi sit et gloria. 
 
 Adam our fader was in blis, 
 And for an appil of lytil prys 
 He loste the blysse of paradys, 
 Pro sua superbia. 
 
 And alle that evere of hym cam 
 The ryth weye to helle nam, 
 Bothe Ysaac and Abraham, 
 Teste prqfecia. 
 
 Than these profetes prechyd aforn, 
 That a chyld xuld be born 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 To beye that Adam hadde forlorn, 
 Sua inorte propria. 
 
 Moyses ferst in his lawe told 
 A chyld ther xuld be born so bold, 
 To beye a3yn that Adam sold, 
 Sua node pesshna. 
 
 Isaac withoute lesyng 
 Profeciid in his prechyng 
 Of Jesse rote a flour xuld spryng 
 De virgine purica. 
 
 Jeromy, that was so 3yng, 
 Profecyid of his comyng, 
 That is veri lord and kyng, 
 Summi patris gracia. 
 
 Ferthere more, as I 30U telle, 
 Than profecyid Danyelle, 
 Of hys comyng he gan spelle, 
 Gentihis in Judea. 
 
 Quan tyme cam of God almyjt. 
 That wolde brynge mankynde to ryjt, 
 In a maydyn he gan lyjt, 
 Que vocatur Maria. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Now is he born, that blysful chyld, 
 Of Mary moder mayde myld, 
 Fro the fynd he us s chyld, 
 Qui creavit omnia. 
 
 Prey we to hym with al our mynde. 
 That hajt mad al mankynde, 
 He brynge us alle to good ende, 
 In die novissima. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Eya, Jhesus liodie 
 Natus est de virgine. 
 
 Blyssid be that mayde Mary, 
 
 Born he was of here body, 
 
 Godis sone that syttit on hy, 
 
 Non ex virili semine. 
 
 In a manjour of an as 
 Jhesu lay and lullyd y 
 Harde peynis for to pas, 
 
 Pro peccante homine. 
 
 Kynges comyn fro dyvesse londe, 
 With grete 3yftes in here hondc, 
 
 was, 
 
10 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 In Be diem the child they fonde, 
 Stella ducte limiine. 
 
 Man and chyld bothe eld and yin^ 
 Now in his blysful comyng, 
 To that chyld mow we syng, 
 Gloria tihi, Domine. 
 
 Nowel, nowel in this halle, 
 Make merye, I prey 30U alle, 
 Onto the chyld may we calle, 
 Ullo sine crimine. 
 
 Gay, gay, gay, gay, 
 
 Think on drydful clomis day. 
 
 Every day thou myjt lere, 
 
 To helpe thi self qwil thou art here, 
 
 Quan thou art ded and leyd on here, 
 
 Cryst help thi sowle, for thou ne may. 
 
 Thynk, man, on thi wyttes fyve. 
 Do sum good qwyl thou art on lyve ; 
 Go to cherche, and do the schryve. 
 
 And bryng thi sowle in good aray. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. H 
 
 Thynk, man, on thi synnys sevene, 
 Think how merie it is in hevene ; 
 Prey to God with mylde stefne, 
 
 To be thin helpe on domys day. 
 
 Loke that thou non thing store, 
 Ne non fals wytnesse here ; 
 Thynk how Cryst was stunge with spere, 
 Quan he deyid on good Fryday. 
 
 Loke that thou ne sle non man, 
 Ne do non foly with non womman ; 
 Thynk the blod from Jhesu ran, 
 Quan he deyid withoutyn nay. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Wommen be bothe good and trewe, 
 Wytnesse of Marye. 
 
 Or hondes and body and face arn clenc; 
 
 Wommen mown non beter bene. 
 
 In every place it is sene, 
 
 Wytnesse of Marie. 
 
 It is knowyn and evere was, 
 Ther a womman is in plas, 
 
12 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Womman is the welle of gras, 
 Wytnesse. 
 
 They lovyn men with herte trewe, 
 Ho wyl not chaungyn for non newe, 
 Wonimen ben of wordys fFewe, 
 Wytnesse. 
 
 Wommen ben trewe without lesjng, 
 Wommen be trewe in alle thing, 
 And out of care they mown us brynt 
 AVvtnesse of Marie. 
 
 Jhesu, Jhesu, Jhesu, Jhesu, 
 Saf us alle thorw thi vertu. 
 
 Jhesu, as thou art our savyour, 
 That thou save us fro dolour ; 
 Jhesu is myn paramour ; 
 
 Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu. 
 
 Jhesu was born of a may, 
 
 Upon Cristemesse day, 
 
 Sche was may beforn and ay ; 
 
 Blyssid be thi name, Jhesu. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 13 
 
 Thrc kynges comen fro segent, 
 
 To Jhesu Cryst they browte present ; 
 
 Lord God omnipotent, 
 
 Saf US alle throw thy vertue. 
 
 Jhesu deyid and schad his blod 
 For al mankynde upon the rod ; 
 He graunfc us grace of happis good, 
 I beseke the, swete Jhesu. 
 
 Jhesu, for thy moderes sake, 
 Kepe us fro the fyndis blake, 
 A3ens hym that we mown wake ; 
 
 And save us alle throw thi vertu. 
 
 Now go gyle, gyle, gyle, 
 Now go gile, gyle, go. 
 
 Gyle and gold togedere arn met, 
 Coveytyse be hym is set. 
 Now ha3t gyle leyd his net. 
 
 To gyle bothe frynd and fo. 
 
 Ther is non man wor3t a schelle, 
 But he cun plete with wryt or bylle, 
 
14 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 His neybowres for to spy lie, 
 
 And othere men to werkyn wo. 
 
 Coweytise in herte is lent, 
 Ry3t and resoun awey is went ; 
 Man, be war thou be not schent. 
 Gyle wil thy herte slo. 
 
 Now ha5t gyle get hym gre, 
 Bothe in town and in cete. 
 Gyle goth with gret mene, 
 
 With men of lawe and othere mo. 
 
 Trewthe hevene mot he wynne, 
 Gyle xal in helle brenne ; 
 He that made al mankynde. 
 
 Amend hem that mys han do. 
 
 Syng we alle and sey we thus, 
 Gramersy myn owyn purs. 
 
 QuAX I have in myn purs i-now, 
 I may have bothe hors and plow. 
 And also fryndis i-now, 
 
 Throw the vertu of myn purs. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 15 
 
 Quan my purs gynny3t to slak, 
 And ther is nowt in my pak, 
 They wil seyn, *' Go, far wil, Jak, 
 
 Thou xalt non more drynke with us." 
 
 Thus is al myn good i-lorn, 
 And myn purs al totorn, 
 I may pleyine with an horn, 
 
 In the stede al of myn purs. 
 
 Far wil, hors, and far wil, cow. 
 Far wil, carte, and far wil, plow ; 
 As I pleyid me with a bow, 
 
 I seyd, '' God, quat is al this ? " 
 
 Synful man, for Godis sake, 
 I rede that thou amendis make. 
 
 Thow thou be kyng of tour and town, 
 Thow thou be kyng and were coroun, 
 I sette ry3t not be thi renown. 
 
 But if thou wylt amendys make. 
 
 That hast here is othere menys, 
 
 And so it xal ben quan thou art hens ; 
 
 J 
 
16 SONGS AND CAHOLS. 
 
 Thi sowle xal abeye thi synnys, 
 
 But if thou wit amendes make. 
 
 Thow thou be bothe stef and strong, 
 And many a man thou hast do wrong, 
 Wellaway xal be thi song, 
 But, etc. 
 
 Man, be war, the weye is sleder, 
 Thou xal slyde thou wost not qweder ; 
 Body and sowle xul go togeder, 
 But, etc. 
 
 Man, ber not thi hed to heye. 
 In pumpe and pride and velonye ; 
 In helle thou xalt ben hangyd hye. 
 
 But if thou wilt amendis make. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Of a rose, a lovely rose, 
 Of a rose is al myn song. 
 
 Lestenyt, lordynges, bothe elde and jynge, 
 How this rose began to sprynge ; 
 Swych a rose to myn lykynge 
 
 In al this word ne knowe I non. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 17 
 
 The aungil cam fro hevene tour, 
 To grete Marye with gret honour, 
 And seyde sche xuld here the flour. 
 
 That xulde breke the fyndes bond. 
 
 The flour sprong in heye Bedlem, 
 That is bothe bry5t and schen ; 
 The rose is Mary hevene qwyn. 
 
 Out of here bosum the blosme sprong. 
 
 The ferste braunche is ful of my3t, 
 That sprong on Cyrstemesse nyjt ; 
 The sterre schon over Bedlem bry3t, 
 That is bothe brod and long. 
 
 The secunde braunche sprong to helle, 
 The fendys power doun to felle ; 
 Therin my3t non sowle dw[e]lle ; 
 
 Blyssid be the tyme the rose sprong. 
 
 The thredde branche is good and swote, 
 It sp[r]ang to hevene crop and rote, 
 Therin to dwellyn and ben our bote ; 
 
 Every day it schewit in prystes bond. 
 
 c 
 
18 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Prey we to here with gret honour, 
 Che that bar the blyssid flowr, 
 Che be our helpe and our socour, 
 
 And schyd us fro the fyndes bond. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Man, be war, be war, be war, 
 
 And kep the that thou have no car. 
 
 Thi tunge is mad of fleych and blod, 
 
 Evele to spekyn it is not good, 
 
 But Cryst, that deyid upon the rood, 
 
 So 3yf us grace our tunge to spare. 
 
 Thi lyppis arn withoute bon ; 
 Spek non evyl of thi fon ; 
 Man, I rede, be seynt Jon, 
 
 Of evyl speche that thou be war. 
 
 Quan thou seyst thi evyl seying, 
 
 Be it of eld, be it of 3yng, 
 
 Among many men thi speche may spring. 
 
 And make thin herte of blysse ful bare. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 19 
 
 Tlierfore I telle the, be seynt Austyn, 
 Ther xal non man of evcle speclie wyn 
 But sorwe and schame and moche syn, 
 And to his herte meche care. 
 
 Prey we to God and seynt Margerete, 
 That we mown our tunges kepe, 
 Qwether we wake or slepe, 
 
 And our body fro evele fare. 
 
 XT. 
 
 God be with trewthe qwer he be, 
 I wolde he were in this cuntre. 
 
 A MAN that xuld of trewthe telle, 
 
 With grete lordys he may not dwelle, 
 
 In trewe story as klerkes telle, 
 
 Trewthe is put in low degre. 
 
 In laydyis chaumberes comit he not, 
 Ther dar trewthe settyn non fot ; 
 Thow he wolde, he may not 
 
 Comyn among the heye mene. 
 
 With men of lawe he hajt non spas ; 
 They lovyn trewthe in non plas ; 
 
 c 2 
 
20 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Me thinkit they han a rewly grace, 
 
 That trewthe is put at swych degre. 
 
 In holy cherche he may not sytte ; 
 Fro man to man they xuln hym flytte ; 
 It rewit me sore in myn wytte, 
 
 Of trewthe I have gret pete. 
 
 Religiuus, that xulde be good, 
 If trethe cum ther, I holde hym wood ; 
 They xuldyn hym rynde cote and hood, 
 And make hym bare for to fle. 
 
 A man that xulde of trewthe aspye. 
 He must sekyn esylye 
 In the bosum of Marye, 
 
 For there he is for sothe. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 I clrukke, I dare, so wil I may, 
 Quan I thynke on myn endyng day. 
 
 I AM a chyld, and born ful bare, 
 And bare out of this word xal fare ; 
 3yt am I but wermys ware, 
 
 Thow I clothis go never so gay. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 21 
 
 Thow I be of meche prys, 
 
 Fayr of face, and holdyn wys, 
 
 Myn fleych xal fadyn as flour-de-lys, 
 
 Quan I am ded and leyd in clay. 
 
 Quan I am ded and leyd in ston, 
 I xal rotyn fleych and bon, 
 Fro myn fryndys I xal gon; 
 
 Cryst help myn sowle quan I ne may. 
 
 Quan I xal al my frendes forsake, 
 Cryst schyld me fro the fendes blake ; 
 To Jhesu Cryst my sowle I betake, 
 
 He be our help on domys day. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Gay, gay, to be gay, 
 I holde it but a vanite. 
 
 3YNG men that bern hem so gay, 
 
 They think not on domys day, 
 
 Quan they xul stonde in powre aray. 
 
 And for here dedes damnyd be. 
 
 God that made se and sond. 
 With blody woundis he xal stond, 
 
22 SONGS ANP CAROLS. 
 
 '* Come 3e alle on my ry3t hond, 
 
 je chylderin that han servyd me." 
 
 'J'o wykkyd men Jhesu xal say, 
 "56 han led your lyf botlie nyjt and day, 
 30111' sowle into a wykkyd way, 
 
 Out of myn syte wynd 36. 
 
 Quan I was nakyd, 56 me not clad ; 
 Quan I was hungry, 36 me not fad ; 
 Quan I was in prisoun and harde bestad, 
 5e wold not visite me, 
 
 Therfore myn chylderyn xuln han i-wys 
 That ilke joye, that iike blys, 
 That arte ha5t ben, and alwey is, 
 
 Beforn myn angel favr and fre." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Be war, sqwyer, ^eman, and page, 
 For servyse is non erytage. 
 
 If thou serve a lord of prys. 
 
 Be not to boystous in thin servys, 
 
 Damne not thin sowle in non Avys, 
 
 For servyse is non erytage. 
 
SONGy AND CAEOLS. 23 
 
 Wynteris wether and wommanys thowt, 
 And lordis love, schaungit oft; 
 This is the sothe, if it be sowt, 
 For servyse, etc. 
 
 Now thu art gret, to morwe xal I, 
 As lordys schaungyn here baly ; 
 In thin welthe werk sekyrly, 
 For, etc. 
 
 Than serve we God in alle wyse, 
 He xal us quityn our servyse, 
 And jevyn us 3yftes most of pryse, 
 Hevene to ben our erytage. 
 
 A^ &5 ft} 815 
 
 Nunc gaudet Maria. 
 
 Mary is a lady bry3t, 
 Sche hajt a sone of meche myjt. 
 Over al this word che is lyjt, 
 Bona natalicia. 
 
24 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Mary is so fayr of face, 
 And here sone so ful of grace, 
 In hevene he make us a place, 
 Cum sua potencia. 
 
 Mary is so fayr and sole, 
 And here sone so ful of bote, 
 Over al this word he is bote, 
 Bofia voluntaria. 
 
 Mary is bothe good and kynde, 
 Evere on us che ha5t mende. 
 That the fend xal us not schende 
 Cum sua malicia. 
 
 Mary is qwen of alle thinge. 
 And here sone a lovely kynge ; 
 God graunt us alle good endynge, 
 Recjnat del gracia. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Man, be wai', er thou be wo, 
 Think on pride and let him goo. 
 
 Pkyue is out, and pride is ine, 
 
 x\nd pride is rot of every symie, 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 25 
 
 And pride wil never blynne, 
 
 Til he ha5t browt a man in woo. 
 
 Lucyfer was aungyl bry3t, 
 
 And conqwerour of meche myjt ; 
 
 Throw his pride he les his lyjt, 
 
 And fil doun into endeles woo. 
 
 Wenyst thou for thi gaye clothing, 
 And for thin grete othis sweryng, 
 To be a lord or a kyng, 
 
 Lytil it xal avayle the too. 
 
 Quan thou xalt to cherche glyde, 
 Wermys xuln ete throw thi syde, 
 x\nd lytil xal avayle thi pride, 
 
 Or ony synnys that thou hast doo. 
 
 Prey to Cryst, with blody syde, 
 And othere woundes grile and wide, 
 That he for3eve the thi pride. 
 
 And thi synnys that thou hast doo. 
 
26 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 I may synge of a may, 
 
 Of joyis fyve and merthis most. 
 
 The ferste joye, as I 30U telle, 
 
 With Mary met seynt Gabrielle, 
 
 *' Heyl, Mary, I grete the welle, 
 
 With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost.' 
 
 The secunde joye, in good fay, 
 Was on Crystemesse day. 
 Born he was of a may, 
 With Fader, etc. 
 
 The thredde joye, withoiityn stryf, 
 That blysseful berthe was ful ryf, 
 Quan he ros fro ded to lyf, 
 With Fader, etc. 
 
 The forte joye, in good fay, 
 Was upon halewyn thursdaj^ 
 He stey to hevene in ryche aray, 
 
 With Fader and Sone and Holy Gost. 
 
 The fyfte joye, withoutyn dene, 
 In hevene he crownyd his moder clene, 
 That was wol wil the eyr a sene, 
 With Fader, etc. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 27 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Man, be war of thin wowyng, 
 For weddyng is the longe wo. 
 
 LoKE, er thin herte be set, 
 
 Lok thou wowe er thou be knet ; 
 
 And if thou se thou mow do bet, 
 
 Knet up the haltre and let here goo. 
 
 Wyvys be bothe stowte and bolde. 
 
 Her Inisbondes a3ens hem durn not holde, 
 
 And if he do, his herte is colde, 
 
 How so evere the game go. 
 
 Wedewis be wol fals i-wys, 
 For cum bothe halse and kys. 
 Til onys purs pikyd is. 
 
 And they seyn. Go, boy, goo. 
 
 Of madenys I wil seyn but lytil, 
 For they be bothe fals and fekyl, 
 And under the tayl they ben ful tekyl, 
 
 A twenty devele name, let heui goo. 
 
28 SONGS AND CAflOLS. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, 
 Deo patri sit gloria. 
 
 Salvator mundi, Domine, 
 
 Fader of hevene, blyssid thou be, 
 
 Thou gretyst a mayde with on ave, 
 
 Que vocatur Maria. 
 
 Adesto nunc propicius, 
 Thou sendyst thi sone swete Jhesus, 
 Man to become for love of us, 
 Deo patri sit gloria. 
 
 Ne mentem sompnus oprimat, 
 Betwyx an ox and an as 
 Cryst hym self born he was 
 De virgine Maria. 
 
 Te reformator sensuum, 
 Bothe lytil and mekil and alle a[nd] sum 
 Wolcum the tyme that now is com, 
 Deo patri sit gloria. 
 
 Gloria tibi, Domine, 
 Thre personys in trenyte, 
 Blyssid mot they alle be, 
 Deo patri sit gloria. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 29 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Nowel el el el el el el el el el el el, 
 Mary was gret with Gabriel. 
 
 Mary moder, meke and mylde, 
 Fro schame and synne that 30 us schyllde, 
 For gret on grownd 30 gon with childe, 
 Gahriele nuncio. 
 
 Mary moder, be not adred, 
 Jhesu is in 3our body bred, 
 And of 30ur bryst he wil be fed, 
 Cum pudoris lilio. 
 
 Mary moder, the frewit of the 
 For us was naylid on a tre, 
 In hevene is now his majeste, 
 Fidget resurreccio. 
 
 Mary moder, the thredde day 
 Up he ros, as I 30W say. 
 To helle he tok the ry3te way, 
 Motu fertur proprio. 
 
 Mary moder, after thin sone. 
 Up thou steyist with hym to wone ; 
 The aungele wern glad quan thou were come 
 In celi palacio. 
 
30 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 I SYNG a of a mayden 
 
 that is makeles, 
 Kyng of alle kynges 
 
 to here sone che ches. 
 He cam also stylle 
 
 ther his moder was, 
 As dew in Aprylle 
 
 that fallyt on the gras. 
 He cam also stylle 
 
 to his moderes bowr, 
 As dew in Aprille 
 
 that fallyt on the flour. 
 He cam also stylle 
 
 ther his moder lay, 
 As dew in Aprille 
 
 that fallyt on the spray. 
 Moder and maydyn 
 
 was never non but che ; 
 AVel may swych a lady 
 
 Godes moder be. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 31 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 I HAVE a gentil cook 
 
 crowyt me day, 
 He doth me rysyn erly 
 
 my matynis for to say. 
 I have a gentil cook, 
 
 comyn he is of gret. 
 His comb is of red corel, 
 
 his tayil is of get. 
 I have a gentyl cook, 
 
 comyn he is of kynde, 
 His comb is of red scorel, 
 
 his tayl is of inde ; 
 His legges ben of asour, 
 
 so gentil and so smale. 
 His spores arn of sylver qwyt 
 
 into the wortewale ; 
 His eynyn arn of cristal, 
 
 lokyn al in aumbyr ; 
 And every nyjt he perchit hym 
 
 in myn ladyis chaumbyr. 
 
32 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Omnes gentes plaudite. 
 
 I saw myny bryddis setyn on a tre ; 
 
 He tokyn here fley3t and flowyn away, 
 
 With, E(jo dixi, have good day ! 
 
 Many qwyte federes hajt the pye : — 
 
 I may noon more syngyn, my lyppis arn so drye. 
 
 Manye qwyte federis ha3t the swan : — 
 
 The more that I drynke, the lesse good I can. 
 
 Ley stykkys on the fer, wyl mot is brenne ; 
 
 5eTe us onys drynkyn er we gon henne. 
 
 Adam lay i-bowndyn, 
 
 bowndyn in a bond, 
 Fowre thowsand wynter 
 
 thowt he not to long ; 
 And al was for an appil, 
 
 an appil that he tok. 
 As clerkes fyndyn wretyn 
 
 in here book. 
 Ne hadde the appil take ben, 
 
 the appil taken ben, 
 
SONGS AND C VROLS. 
 
 Ne hadde never our lady 
 a ben hevene quen. 
 
 Blyssid be the tyme 
 
 that appil take was ! 
 
 Therfore we mown syngyn 
 Deo gracias. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 I HAVE a 3ong suster 
 
 far be3ondyn the se, 
 Many be the drowryis 
 
 that che sente me. 
 Che sente me the cherye 
 
 withoutyn ony ston ; 
 And so che dede [the] dowe 
 
 withoutyn ony bon ; 
 Sche sente me the brere 
 
 withoutyn ony rynde ; 
 Sche bad me love my lemman 
 
 withoute longgyng. 
 How xuld ony cherye 
 
 be withoute ston ? 
 And how xuld ony dowe 
 
 ben withoute bon ? 
 
34 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 How xuld ony brcre 
 
 ben withoute ryncle ? 
 How xuld y love myn lemman 
 
 without longyug ? 
 Quan the cherye was a flour, 
 
 than hadde it non ston ; 
 Quan the dowe was an ey, 
 
 than hadde it non bon ; 
 Quan the brere was onbred, 
 
 than hadde it non rynd ; 
 Quan the maydyn hajt that che lovit, 
 
 che is without longjug. 
 
 Al the meryere is that place, 
 
 The sunue of grace hym schjTiifc in. 
 
 The sunne of grace hym schynit in, 
 
 in on day quan it was mor[we], 
 Quan our Lord God born was, 
 
 withoute wem or sorwe. 
 The sunne of grace hym schynit in, 
 
 on a day quan it was pryme. 
 Quan our Lord God born was, 
 
 so wel he knew his tyme. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 35 
 
 Tlie sunne of grace hym schyiiit in, 
 
 on a day quan it was non, 
 Qiian our Lord God born was, 
 
 and on the rode don. 
 The sunne of grace hym schynit in, 
 
 on a day quan it was undy[rn ]. 
 Quan our Lord God born was, 
 
 and to the herte stongyn. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 I HAVE a newe gardyn, 
 
 and newe is begunne ; 
 Swych another gardyn 
 
 know I not under sunne. 
 In the myddis of my gardyn 
 
 is a peryr set, 
 And it wele non pere bern, 
 
 but a pere jenet. 
 The fayrest mayde of this toun 
 
 preyid me 
 For to gryffyn here a gryf 
 
 of myn pery tre ; 
 Quan I hadde hem gryffid 
 
 alle at here wille, 
 
 D 2 
 
36 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 The wyn and the ale 
 
 che dede in fille. 
 And I gryffid here a g[ryf] 
 
 ryjt up in here honde, 
 And be that day xx. wowkes 
 
 it was qwyk in here w[ombe]. 
 That day twelfve monith 
 
 that mayde I mette, 
 Che seyd it was a pere robert, 
 
 but non pere jon[et]. 
 
 XXXIT. 
 
 Out of the blosme sprang a thorn, 
 Quan God hym self wold be born, 
 He let us nevere be forlorn, 
 
 That born was of Marie. 
 
 Ther sprang a welle al at here fot. 
 That al this word is t[o]rnyd to good, 
 Quan Jhesu Cryst took fleych and blod 
 Of his moder Marie. 
 
 Out of the welle sprang a strem 
 Fro patriarck to Jerusalem, 
 Til Cryst hymself ajen it nem 
 Of his moder, etc. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 37 
 
 In wynter quan the frost hym fres, 
 A powre beddyng our Lord liym dies ; 
 Betwyin an ox and an as 
 Godes sone born he was 
 Of his, etc. 
 
 It was upon the twelwe day, 
 Ther come thre kynges in ryche aray. 
 To seke Cryst ther he lay 
 And his, etc. 
 
 Thre kynges out of dyves londe, 
 Swythe comyn with herte stronge, 
 The chyld to sekyn underfonge, 
 That born was of Marie. 
 
 The sterre led hem a ryte way 
 To the chyld ther he lay ; 
 He help us bothe ny3t and day, 
 That born was of Marie. 
 
 Baltyzar was the ferste kyng, 
 He browte gold to his offeryng, 
 For to presente that ryche kyng. 
 And his moder Marie. 
 
38 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Melchiar was the secimde kyng, 
 He browte incens to his offering, 
 For to present that ryche kyng, 
 
 Jasper was the thred kyng, 
 He browte myrre to his offeryng, 
 For to presente that ryche kyng, 
 and his, etc. 
 
 Ther they offerid here presens, 
 With gold and myrre and francincens, 
 And clerkes redyn in here seqwens 
 in Ephifanye. 
 
 Knel we down hym beforn. 
 
 And prey we to hym that now is born, 
 
 And let us never be forlorn, 
 
 that born was of Marye. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Of alle the spyces that I kuowe, 
 Blyssid be the qwete flour. 
 
 QwETE is bothe semely and sote, 
 
 Of alle spyces that is bote. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 39 
 
 The vcrtu spryngit out of the rote, 
 
 so blyssid be the qw[e]te flour. 
 
 The secunde vers I sey beforn, 
 Qwete is kyng of every corn ; 
 Jhesu hym self for us was born, 
 so blyssid, etc. 
 
 The thredde vers, with Godes grace, 
 Qw[e]te is good in every place, 
 In qwete is porteyidid Godes face, 
 so, etc. 
 
 The forte vers, withoute stryf, 
 Of qwete is mad the bred of lyf. 
 Us to receyvyn in clene lyf. 
 
 The fyfte vers, withoute skorn, 
 Qwete is a spyce, a wol good on, 
 King that is of every corn, 
 so, etc. 
 
 The sexte vers, I xal 30U seye, 
 Jhesu Cryst that sit on heye 
 He let us never for hunger deye, 
 
 so blyssid be the qwete flour, 
 
40 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The sterre hym schon bothe ny^t and day, 
 To lede thre kynges ther our Lord lay. 
 
 Jhesu was born in Bedlem Jude, 
 
 Of mayde Mary, thus fynde we ; 
 
 Out of the est come kynges thre 
 
 with ryche presentes, as I 30W say. 
 
 As they went forth in here pas, 
 The sterre schon al in here fas 
 As bryjt as golde withine the glas, 
 
 to Bedlem to ledyn hem the way. 
 
 Kyng Herowdes was most of pryse, 
 
 He seyde to tho thre kynges that wern so wys 
 
 " Go and sekit me 5one chyld of pryse, 
 
 and comit ageyn be me, I 50U pray. 
 
 And I myself xal with 30W wynde, 
 The chyld to worchepe, the child to fynde, 
 And worchepyn hym with al myn mynde, 
 with al the onour that I may." 
 
 Quan they kemyn into that plas 
 Ther Jhesu with his moder was, 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 41 
 
 They settyn hem cloun and made solas, 
 and every kyng to other gan say. 
 
 Quan they haddyn offerid up here presens, 
 With gold and myrre and francincens, 
 As clerkes redyn in here sequens, 
 
 he took it of hem, and seyd not nay. 
 
 Quan they hadde offerid here offeryng 
 To Jhesu that is hevene kyng, 
 Of an aungyl they hadd vvarnyng, 
 
 to wendyn hom be another way. 
 
 The aungyl cam fro hevene kyng, 
 
 And bad tho thre kynges ageyn hom wynd, 
 
 Therin to dvvelle, therin to ben, 
 
 til kyng Herowdes endyng day, 
 
 Kyng Herowde wox wol ille, 
 
 For tho thre kynges comyn hym not tille, 
 
 For to fulfille his wykkyd wille, 
 
 and to his knytes he gan say. 
 
 Kyng Herowdes wox wroth anon, 
 The chylderin of Israel he dide slon, 
 He wende Jhesu hadde ben the ton, 
 and 3yt he falyid of his pray. 
 
42 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Kyng Herowdcs deyid, and went to licllc, 
 For swete Jhesus that we spelle ; 
 God saf us fro the peynis of helle, 
 
 and fro the wykkid fyndes pray. 
 
 Robynn lyth in grene wode bowndyn. 
 I HERDE a carpyng of a clerk 
 
 al at 3one wodes ende, 
 Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn 
 
 was ther non other gynge. 
 Stronge thevys wern the chylderin non, 
 
 but bowmen gode and hende ; 
 He wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych, 
 
 if God wold it hem sende. 
 Al day wentyn the chylderin too, 
 
 and fleych fowndyn he non, 
 Til it were ageyn evyn 
 
 the chylderin wold gon hom ; 
 Half a honderid of fat falyf der 
 
 he comyn a5on, 
 And alle he wern fayr and fat inow, 
 
 but markyd was ther non. 
 Be dcre Gode, seyde gode [Robyn], 
 
 hereof we xul have on. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 43 
 
 Robyn went his joly bo we, 
 
 therin he set a flo, 
 The fattest der of alle the hertc 
 
 he clef a-to. 
 He hadde not the der i-slawe 
 
 ne half out of the hyde, 
 Ther cam a schrewde arwe out of the west 
 
 that felde Robertes pryde. 
 Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and west, 
 
 be every syde, 
 " Hoo hat myn mayster slayin ? 
 
 ho hat don this dede ? 
 Xal I never out of grene wode go 
 
 ti[l] I se sydis blede." 
 Gandeleyn lokyd hym est and lokyd west, 
 
 and sowt under the sunne. 
 He saw a lytil boy he clepyn 
 
 Wrennok of Doune ; 
 A good bowe in his bond, 
 
 a brod arewe therine, 
 And fowre and xx. goode arwys 
 
 trusyd in a thrumme. 
 *' Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn, 
 
 herof thu xalt ban summe. 
 Be war the, war the, Gandeleyn, 
 
 herof thou gyst plente." 
 
44 SO^'GS AND CAROLS. 
 
 "Evere on for another," seyde Gandeleyn, 
 
 ''mysaunter have he xal fle." 
 '* Qwerat xal our marke be r" 
 
 seyde Gandeleyn. 
 " Everyche at otheris herte," 
 
 seyde Wrennok ageyn. 
 *'Ho xal 5eve the ferste schote?" 
 
 seyde Gandeleyn. 
 ''And I xal jewe the on beforn," 
 
 seyd Wrennok ageyn. 
 Wrennok schette a ful good schote, 
 
 and he schet not to hye, 
 Throw the sanchothis of his bryk 
 
 it towchyd neyther thye. 
 " Now hast thou 3ovyn me on beforn," 
 
 al thus to Wrennok seyde he, 
 ^' And throw thu my5t of our lady 
 
 a bettere I xal 5eve the." 
 Gandeleyn bent his goode bowe, 
 
 and set therin a flo, 
 He schet throw his grene certyl, 
 
 his herte he clef on too. 
 '' Now xalt thow never 3elpe, Wrennok, 
 
 at ale ne at wyn. 
 That thou hast slawe goodc Robyn 
 
 and his knave Gandeleyn ; 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 45 
 
 Now xalt thou never 3elpe, Wrennok, 
 
 at wyn ne at ale, 
 That thou hast slawe goode Robyn, 
 
 and Gandeleyyn his knawe." 
 Robyn ly3th in grene wode bowdyn. 
 
 Procedenti puereo, 
 
 eya nobis annus est, 
 Virginis ex utero, 
 
 gloria, laudes, 
 Deus homo factus est, et immortalis. 
 
 Sine viri semine, 
 
 eya nobis, etc. 
 Natus est de virgine, 
 
 gloria, laudes, 
 Deus homo, etc. 
 
 Sine viri coitu, 
 
 eya nobis annus est, 
 Pleno sancto spiritu, 
 
 gloria, laudes, 
 Deus homo factus est, etc. 
 
46 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Syne viri copia, 
 
 eya nobis, etc. 
 
 Natus est ex Maria, 
 
 gloria, laucles, 
 
 Deus nobis factus est, et immortalis. 
 
 In hoc festo cle termino, 
 
 eya nobis annus est, 
 
 Benedicamus Domino, 
 
 gloria, laudes, 
 
 Deus homo factus est, et immortalis. 
 
 A NEW 5er, a newe 5er, a chyld was i-born 
 Us for to savyn that al was for-lorn, 
 
 So blyssid be the tyme. 
 
 The fader of hevene his owyn sone he sent, 
 His kyngdam for to cleymyn. 
 
 So blyssid be the tyme. 
 
 Al in a clene maydyn our Lord was i-ly3t, 
 Us for to savyn with al his my3t. 
 So blyssid, etc. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 47 
 
 Al of a clenc maydyn our Lord was i-born, 
 Us for to savyn that al was for-lorn. 
 So blyssid, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytil chyld, myn owyn dere fode, 
 How xalt thow sufFerin be naylid on the rode ? 
 So, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytil chyld, myn owyn dere smerte. 
 How xalt thow sufferki the scharp spere to thi herte ? 
 So, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytyl child, I synge al for thi sake, 
 Many on is the scharpe schour to thi body is schape. 
 So, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytyl child, fayre happis the befalle. 
 How xal thou sufFerin to drynke ezyl and galle ? 
 So, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytil chyld, I synge al beforn. 
 How xalt thou sufFerin the scharp garlong of thorn ? 
 So, etc. 
 
 Lullay, lullay, lytil chyld, qwy wepy thou so sore ? 
 And art thou bothin God and man, quat woldyst thou 
 be more ? 
 
 So, etc. 
 
48 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Blyssid be the armys the chyld bar abowte, 
 And also the tetes the chykl on sowkid. 
 So, etc. 
 
 Blyssid be the moder, the chyld also, 
 With henedicamus Domino. 
 
 So blyssid be the tyme. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Moder, qwyt as lylie flour, 
 |oiir lulh^ng lassyt myu laugour. 
 
 As I me ros in on morwenyng, 
 
 Myn thowt was on a mayde jynge, 
 
 Che song aslepe with here luUynge 
 
 Here dere sone, our Savyour. 
 
 As che hym tok al in here lap, 
 He tok that maydyn be the pap. 
 And tok therof a ry5t god nap 
 
 And sok his fille of that licour. 
 
 To his moder than he gan say, 
 '' For this mylk me muste day, 
 It is myn kynde therwith to play. 
 
 My swete moder, myn paramour. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 49 
 
 That mayde frely began to synge, 
 And in here song che mad murnynge, 
 That here sone, that is our kynge, 
 
 Xuld schred his blod vnth gret dolour. 
 
 ''30ur wepyng, moder, grevit me sore, 
 But I wold deye, 36 wern forlore ; 
 Do wey, moder, and wepe non more ; 
 
 jour lullyng lassit myn langour." 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Reges cle Saba venient, 
 Aurum, tus, myrram, oflferent. 
 Alleluia. 
 
 Now is the twelthe day i-come, 
 
 The Fader and Sone togeder am nome, 
 
 The Holy Gost, as they wern wone, 
 
 in fere. 
 
 God send us good newe jere. 
 
 I wil 30U synge with al myn myjt, 
 
 Of a chyld so fayr in sy3t, 
 
 A maydyn hym bar this ender nyjt, 
 
 so stylle; 
 As it was his wylie. 
 
 'Y-^^ 
 
50 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Thre kynges out of Galylie 
 Kemyn to Becllem that cete, 
 For to takyn in to that se, 
 
 be nyte ; 
 It was a fill fayr syte. 
 
 As they kerne for3t with here ofFeryng, 
 They mette with Herowdes, that mody kyng 
 He askyd hem of here comyng, 
 
 that tyde, 
 And thus to hem he seyde : 
 
 *'Fro qwens come }e, kynges thre?" 
 " Out of the est, as thou mayst se, 
 To sekyn hym that evere xal be, 
 
 throw ryte, 
 liOrd and kyng of myte." 
 
 '* Quan 56 han at that kyng i-be, 
 Comit ageyn this weye be me, 
 And tel me the sytes that han se ; 
 
 I praye, 
 3e gon non other waye." 
 
 Of Herowdys, that mody kyng, 
 
 He tokyn here leve, of ckl and 5yng ; 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 51 
 
 And foth they wentc with here offeryng 
 
 in syjte, 
 And ther wey come be nyte. 
 
 Quan they comyn into the plas 
 Ther Jhesu with his moder was, 
 Thei made offeryng with gret solas, 
 
 not ferre, 
 With gold, incens, and myrre. 
 
 As they wern hom-ward i-went, 
 The Fader of hevene an aungyl sent 
 To tho thre kynges that made present, 
 
 or daye. 
 And thus to hem gan saye. 
 
 ''My Lord hajt warnyd 30U of jour fon. 
 Be kyng Herowdes that 36 not gon ; 
 For if 3e don, he wil 30U slon, 
 
 and traye ; 
 3e gon another waye." 
 
 Quan they comyn hom to here cuntre, 
 
 Blythe and glad they wern alle thre 
 
 Of the sytes that they had se, 
 
 be nyte, 
 
 Jhesu and Mari bryte. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 With tresoun to us gan he sayn, 
 He trowid Jhesu to han slayn ; 
 Into Egypt thei went ful playn, 
 
 be syde; 
 Josep was here gyde. 
 
 Into Bedlem thei gunne pas, 
 
 The sterre gan schynyn in here fas 
 
 Brytter than evere schon sunne in glas, 
 
 in londe, 
 Jhesu with Mari thei fonde. 
 
 Kyng Herowdes he made his vow, 
 Gret plente of chylderin he slow, 
 He wende ther xuld a be Jhesu ; 
 
 I saye. 
 He falyid of his praye. 
 
 Herowdes was wod in ryalte ; 
 
 He slow schylderin ryjt gret plente 
 
 In Bedlem, that fayre cete, 
 
 with stryf; 
 Ne left he non on lyf. 
 
 The chylderin of Israel cryid '' wa, wa ! " 
 The moderis of Bedlem cryid ''ba, ba!" 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 53 
 
 Herowdcs low, and seyd, ''a ha! 
 
 that qwcdc, 
 The kyng of Juwys is dede." 
 
 Almyty God in mageste, 
 
 In on God personys thre, 
 
 Bryng us to the blysse that is so fre, 
 
 in fere ; 
 And send us a good newe 3ere. 
 
 Reges de Saba venient, aurum, tus, mirra, offer e\jit\. 
 
 XL. 
 
 As I went throw a gardyn grene, 
 
 I fond an erber makyd ful newe ; 
 
 A fayrere syte had I non sene, 
 
 On every tre song a turtil trewT. 
 
 Therin a womman bryjt of hewe, 
 
 Che seyde in here song not lest, 
 
 This was he[re] carpyng, as I knewe, 
 Verbum caro /actum est. 
 
 I askyd that mayde quat che nient, 
 
 Che bad me abydyn and I myjt lore 
 
64 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 To here song tlmn tok I intent, 
 
 Che seyde a song woys clere. 
 
 *^ The pryns that is without pere 
 
 Is born and leyd betwyn tweyn best; 
 
 Therfore I synge, as thou my3t here, 
 Verbiim caro factum est J' 
 
 In that wone forjt gan I wynde, 
 
 A. semely song than herd I tho. 
 
 Of thre schepperdes that wern ful hynde, 
 Gloria in excelsis Deo. 
 
 I wold not the hadde ferryd me froo, 
 
 Wol faste after hem than gan I prest ; 
 
 Thei told me that they sungyn soo. 
 For verbum caro factum est. 
 
 3yt ferthere more in that fryth, 
 
 I saw thre kynges comyn corown ; 
 
 I sped me faste to speke hem wyt, 
 
 And to tho lordes I knelid adown. 
 
 Tho kynges curteys to me gun rown. 
 
 And seydyn thei woldyn fare prest, 
 
 '' To Bedlem hour now arn we bown, 
 For verbum caro factum est.^^ 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 55 
 
 This is as meche for to say, 
 
 As Godes sone becum is fleych, 
 
 He was born this ilke day, 
 
 A blysful weye us for to wych. 
 
 That may now withoutyn rnys, 
 
 Heie I wyte bothe most and lest, 
 
 For che was the cause i-wys. 
 
 Of verhum caro factum est. 
 
 Godis sone becomyn is fieych, 
 
 That bote hajt of al our bale, 
 A blysful weye us for to wych, 
 
 That mayde hym herberwyd in here hale. 
 
 Che curid that lovely in here sale, 
 
 Che hyld that hyndin in here rest, 
 
 With trewe tunge che teld the tale. 
 For verhum, caro factum, est. 
 
 Verbum caro is to say 
 
 That Godes sone becomyn is man ; 
 He was born this ilke day. 
 
 To savyn us fro the fend Sathan. 
 
 That may that is qwyt as swan, 
 
 Che fed that Lord upon here bryst ; 
 
 Therfore I synge 30U as I can, 
 Verbum caro factum est. 
 
56 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 XLl. 
 
 Be the way wanderyng as I went, 
 
 Sore I scyid for sorwenis sad, 
 
 For harde liappys that I have hent, 
 
 Murnyng makyd me masyd and mad. 
 
 To a lettere alone I me ledde, 
 
 That wel was wretyn upon a wal ; 
 A blysful word theron I redde, 
 
 WaS; evere more thank God of al. 
 
 3yt I redde wel ferthere more, 
 
 With trewe intent I took thertyl, 
 
 Cryst may wel our stat restore, 
 
 It is not to strywe agen his wil. 
 
 He may us save, and that is skyl, 
 
 Thynk ry3t wel we ben his thral ; 
 
 Q,uat thou tholyst, wo or yl, 
 
 Evere more thank God of al. 
 
 If that thou waxe blynd or lame, 
 
 Or ony evyl to the be set, 
 Thynk ryjt wel it is non schame, 
 
 With swych grace God hajt the gret. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 57 
 
 In sorwe and care if thou be set, 
 
 And thi ryches begynne to falle ; 
 
 I can not se thou may do bet 
 
 Than evere more thank God of al. 
 
 If thou welde thi wordele goodes, 
 
 And ryjt ryally leve in thi rest, 
 
 Fayr of face, frely of fode, 
 
 Ther is non swych be est ne west. 
 
 God wil sende ry5t as hym leste, 
 
 For ryches tranytj as a bal ; 
 In ilke a manere this is the beste, 
 
 Evere more to thank God of al 
 
 If thi good begynne to pase. 
 
 And thou waxe a powre man, 
 Thak good cumfort and mak good fase, 
 
 And trust on hym that al began. 
 
 Of God ferst our good began, 
 
 He may us reve bothe hour and halle ; 
 Betere counsel I non can. 
 
 Than evere more thank God of al. 
 
 Thynk on Job that was so ryche, 
 
 He wex powre fro day to day. 
 
58 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 His bestes drenkelyd in every dyche, 
 His good wansid al away. 
 
 He was put in a powre aray, 
 
 Neyther in purpyl ne in palle, 
 
 In sympel wede, as I 50U say, 
 
 And evere he thankyd God of alle. 
 
 For Godes love, so do 36, 
 
 He may 50U bothe 3eve and take ; 
 Quat myschyf je in be, 
 
 He ha3t my5t 3our wo to slake. 
 
 Ful good amendes he wil us make, 
 
 If we to hym wil crye or calle ; 
 
 Quat wel or wo we ben in take, 
 
 Evere more thank God of al. 
 
 If thi fryndes fro the fayle, 
 
 And deth ha3t reft hem of here lyf ; 
 Qwerfore xuldyst thou wepyn or wayle, 
 
 It is not to stryve ageyn his wyl. 
 
 Thynk he made bothe man and wyf. 
 
 And that we alle ben his thral ; 
 
 Quat wo thou sufFeryst or how thou tliryf, 
 Evere more thank God of al. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 59 
 
 Dyves sondes God ha3t us sent, 
 
 Here and also in othere place ; 
 
 Tak we hem in good atent, 
 
 The sunnere God wil sendyn us grace. 
 
 If 30ur body be bowndyn in bas, 
 
 Lok 3our herte be good and stal ; 
 
 Thynk he is 3yt ther he was, 
 
 And evere more thank God of al. 
 
 For Gocles love be not as a chyld, 
 
 Ne mak thi self not to stowt, 
 But take with god herte and my Id 
 
 The good that God sendit al abowt. 
 
 Than dar I seyn, withoute dowt, 
 
 In hevene blysse is mad your halle ; 
 
 Ryche and powre that 3e lowe lowt, 
 
 And evere more thank God of alle. 
 
 This wordele good xuld incres, 
 
 And eche man kynde wold be, 
 
 And partyn abowtyn of here ryches 
 To hem that arn in poverte. 
 
 A wonder thing now may we sene, 
 
 That kynde love adoun is falle ; 
 
 Non betere counsel can I mene, 
 
 Than evere to thank God of alle. 
 
60 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Worchyp we bothe more and lesce 
 Crystes body in furme of bred. 
 
 It is bred fro hevene cam, 
 Fleycli and blod of Mary it nam, 
 For the synnys of Adam, 
 
 He sched his blod that was so red. 
 
 He that onworthi this bred etc, 
 The peyne of helle he xal gete. 
 My swete body awey to lete, 
 
 And makyn his sowle to ben ded. 
 
 He that this bred hajt in mynde. 
 He xal levyn withoutyn ende ; 
 This is bred to 3evyn a frende, 
 
 Withoutyn qwyte, withine red. 
 
 On Schyre-Thursday, al at the messe, 
 To hese desipele he seyde thisse, 
 '' Ety3t this bred, myn body it isse, 
 Lok therof ^e han non dred." 
 
 Aftyrward at here soper. 
 
 He tok the wyn that was so cler. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 61 
 
 And blyssid it with mylde cher, 
 
 "This is myn blod that is so red." 
 
 The Juwys wern bothe wylde and wode, 
 He puttyn Jhesu upon the rode, 
 For to spyllyn his herte blode ; 
 
 For manys synne he sufferid ded. 
 
 Jhesu, lynd us this bred to ete. 
 And alle our synnys for to for3ete, 
 And in hevene a place to gete, 
 
 Throw the vertu of this bred. 
 
 Synge we, synge we, 
 Gloria tibi, Domine. 
 
 Man, if thou hast synnyd owth, 
 
 Chaunge redely thi thowth, 
 
 Thynk on hym that ha3t the bowth. 
 
 So dere upon the rode tre. 
 
 Thynk he cam for to ben born. 
 To beyin a3en that was forlorn, 
 Many a m^- 5er beforn, 
 
 Out of his owyn mageste. 
 
62 SOXGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Thynk the Juwis quan hym tokyn, 
 Hese desipele hym forsokyn, 
 Alle the veynys on hym schokyn, 
 
 For dowt of deth wold he not fle. 
 
 Thynk the cros he dedyn hym here, 
 Garlond of thorn he dedyn hym were, 
 False tretowres that they were, 
 
 Til he kemyn ther he wolde be. 
 
 Thynk he dedyn hym on the rode ; 
 Thynk it was al for our goode ; 
 Thynk the Juwys wyxin wode. 
 
 On hym they haddyn non pete. 
 
 Thynk how sore he was bowndyn ; 
 Thynk he sufFerid harde woundys, 
 Of tho false helle howndys. 
 
 With schorge and spere and naylys thre. 
 
 Thynk, man, on the werste of alle, 
 He 3evyn hym drynkyn ezyl and galle, 
 Hely for peyne he gan to calle 
 To his fader in trenite. 
 
 Thynk, man, wytterly, 
 Think he bowt the bytterly ; 
 Forsake thi synne and to hym cry, 
 
 That he have mercy upon the. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 63 
 
 Seynt Stevene was a clerk 
 
 in kyng Herowdes halle, 
 And servyd him of bred and cloth, 
 
 as every kyng befalle. 
 Stevyn out of kechoun cam 
 
 with boris hed on honde, 
 He saw a sterre was fayr and bryjt 
 
 over Bedlem stonde. 
 He kyst adoun the bores hed, 
 
 and went into the halle, 
 ''I forsak the, kyng Herowdes, 
 
 and thi werkes alle. 
 I forsak the, kyng Herowdes, 
 
 and thi werkes alle, 
 Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born, 
 
 is beter than we alle." 
 '' Quat eylyt the, Stevene ? 
 
 quat is the befalle ? 
 Lakkyt the eyther mete or drynk 
 
 in kyng Herod wes halle ? " 
 " Lakit me neyther mete ne drynk 
 
 in kyng Herowdes halle ; 
 Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born, 
 
 is beter than we alle." 
 
64 SONGS AND CAHOLS. 
 
 Quat eylyt the, Stevyn ? art thou wod ? 
 
 or thou gynnyst to brede ? 
 Lakkyt the eyther gold or fe, 
 
 or ony ryche wede?" 
 " Lakyt me neyther gold ne fe, 
 
 ne non ryche wede ; 
 Ther is a chyld in Bedlem born, 
 
 xal helpyn us at our nede." 
 ''That is also soth, Stevyn, 
 
 also soth i-wys. 
 As this capoun crowe xal 
 
 that lyth here in myn dych." 
 That word was not so sone seyd, 
 
 that word in that halle, 
 The capoun crew Christus natus est 
 
 among tho lordes alle. 
 "Rysyt up, myn turmentowres, 
 
 be to and al be on, 
 And ledit Stevyn out of this town, 
 
 and stonit hym with ston." 
 Tokyn he Stevene, 
 
 and stonyd hym in the way 
 And therfore is his evyn 
 
 on Crystes owyn day. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 66 
 
 XLY. 
 
 Nowel el el el el el el el el el el el el el el el. 
 
 Mary moder, cum and se, 
 Thi sone is naylyd on a tre, 
 Hand and fot, he may not go, 
 
 His body is woundyn al in woo. 
 
 Thi swete sone, that thii hast born 
 To save mankynde that was forlorn, 
 His hed is wrethin in a thorn, 
 
 His blysful body is al to-torn. 
 
 Quan he this tale began to telle, 
 Mary wold non longer dwelle, 
 But hyid here faste to that hylle, 
 
 Ther Jhesu his blod began to spylle. 
 
 *'Myn swete sone, that art me dere, 
 Q,wy han men hangyd the here ? 
 Thi hed is wrethin in a brere, 
 
 Myn lovely sone, qwer is thin chere. 
 
 Thin swete body that in me rest, 
 Thin comely mowth that I have kest, 
 
66 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Now on rode is mad thi nest ; 
 
 Leve chyld, quat is me best?" 
 
 ^' Womman, to Jon I the betake; — 
 Jon, kyp this womman for myn sake ; 
 For synful sowlys my deth I take, 
 
 On rode I hange for nianys sake. 
 
 " This game alone me muste play. 
 For synful sowles I deye to day ; 
 Ther is non wy3t that goth be the way, 
 Of myn peynys can wel say." 
 
 XLVI. 
 A, a, a, a, 
 Nunc gaudet ecclesia. 
 
 LESTENTT3, lordynges, bothe grete and smale, 
 I xal 30U telyn a wonder tale. 
 How holy cherche was brow[t] in bale, 
 Cum magna injuria. 
 
 The greteste clerk of al this lond, 
 Of Cauntyrbery, 36 understond, 
 Slawyn he was [be] wykkyd bond, 
 Demonis poteneia. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 67 
 
 Knytes kemyn fro Hendry kyng, 
 Wykkyd men, withoute Icsyng, 
 Ther they dedyn a wonder thing, 
 Ferventes insmiia. 
 
 They sowtyn hym al abowtyn, 
 Withme the paleys and withoutyn 
 Of Jhesu Cryst hadde they non dowte, 
 In sua malicia. 
 
 They openyd here mowthis wonder wyde, 
 To Thomeys they spokyn mekyl pryde, 
 ''Here, tretour, thou xalt abyde, 
 Ferens mortis tediaP 
 
 Thomas answerid with mylde chere, 
 '' If 3e wil me slon in this manere, 
 Let hem pasyn alle tho am here. 
 Sine con tumilia . ' ' 
 
 Beforn his aunter he knelyd adoun, 
 Ther they gunne to paryn his crown ; 
 He sterdyn the braynys up and doun, 
 Optans cell gaudia. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 The turmentowres abowtyn sterte, 
 With dedly wondys thei gunne him hurte ; 
 Thomas deyid in moder cherche, 
 Per gens ad celestia. 
 
 Moder, clerk, wedue, and wyf, 
 Worchepe 30 Thomeys in al 30ur lyf ; 
 For lij. poyntes he les his lyf, 
 Contra regis co?isilia> 
 
 XLVir. 
 
 Man, be glad in halle and bour, 
 This tyme was born onx' Savyour. 
 
 In this tyme Cryst hajt us sent 
 His owyn sone in present, 
 To dwelle with ns verement, 
 
 To ben our helpe and socour. 
 
 In this tyme ros a sterre cler. 
 Over Bedlem, as bryjt as fer, 
 In tokenyng that he hadde non per. 
 
 Lord God, kyng, and emperour. 
 
 In this tyme it is befalle, 
 He that deyid for us alle. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 69 
 
 Born he was in assis stalle, 
 
 Of Mary, that swete flour. 
 
 In this tyme kemyn thre kynges, 
 He kemyn fro fer with ryche thinges, 
 For to makyn here oiferynges 
 
 On here knen with gret honour. 
 
 In this tyme prey we 
 
 To hym that deyid on the tre, 
 
 On us have mercy and pete, 
 
 And bryng us alle to his tour. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 M and A, and R and I, 
 Syngyn I wyl a newe song. 
 
 It wern fowre letterys of purposy, 
 
 M and A, R and I, 
 
 Tho wern letteris of Mary, 
 
 Of horn al our joye sprong. 
 
 On the mownt of Calvory, 
 With M and A, R and I, 
 There he betyn his bryte body 
 
 With schorges that wern bothe scharp and long. 
 
70 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Our swete lady stod hym by, 
 With M and A, and R and I, 
 Che wept water with here ey, 
 
 And alwey the blod folwyd among. 
 
 God that sit above the sky, 
 With M and A, and R and I, 
 Save now al this cumpany, 
 
 And send us joye and blysse animong. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 How hey, it is [non] les, 
 
 I dar not sej-n, quan clie sey^ pes. 
 
 3YNG men, I warne 50U everychon, 
 
 Elde ^^^wys tak ^e non, 
 
 For I myself have on at hom ; 
 
 I dare not seyn, quan che sey5t pes. 
 
 Quan I cum fro the plow at non. 
 In a reven dych myn mete is don, 
 I dar not askyn our dame a spon ; 
 I dar not, etc. 
 
 If I aske our dame bred, 
 
 Che takyt a staf and brckit myn hed, 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 And doth me rennyn under the led ; 
 I dar not, etc. 
 
 If I aske our dame fleych, 
 Che brekyt myn hed with a dych ; 
 '' Boy, thou art not wor3t a reych ;" 
 I dar, etc. 
 
 If I aske our dame chese, 
 
 '' Boy," che sey3t, '' al at ese ; 
 
 Thou art not wor3t half a pese." 
 
 I dar not sey, quan che seyjt pes. 
 
 71 
 
 Synge we, synge we, 
 Reg'ma cell, letare. 
 
 Holy maydyn, blyssid thou be, 
 
 Godes sone is born of the ; 
 
 The fader of hevene worchepe we, 
 
 Regina celi, letare. 
 
 Heyl, wyf ! heyl, maydyn ! heyl, brytj of ble ! 
 Heyl, dowter ! heyl, suster ! heyl, ful of pete 
 Heyl, chosyn to tho personys thre ! 
 Regina, etc. 
 
72 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 Thou art empresse of hevene so fre, 
 Worthi maydyn in mageste ; 
 Now worchepe we the trenyte, 
 Regina, etc. 
 
 Lady so lovely, so goodly to see, 
 So buxsum in thi body to be, 
 Thou art his moder for humylite, 
 Regina celi, letare. 
 
 These ben curteys kynges of solunte. 
 They worchepyd thi sone with umylite ; 
 Mylde Mary, thus rede we. 
 Regina, etc. 
 
 So gracius, so precyows in ryalte ; 
 Thus jentyl, thus good, thus fynde we 
 Ther is non swych in non cuntre. 
 Regina, etc. 
 
 And therfore knel M'e doun on our kne, 
 ~ This blyssid berthe worchepe we ; 
 This is a song of humylyte. 
 Regina, etc. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 73 
 
 LI. 
 
 Synge we nowe alle and sum, 
 Ave, rex gentes Anglorum. 
 
 A NEWE song I wil begynne, 
 
 Of kyng Edmund that was so fre, 
 How he deyid withoute synne, 
 
 And bowdyn his body was to a tre. 
 With arwys scharpe they gunne hym prykke. 
 
 For non rewthe wold they lete ; 
 As dropys of reyn they comyn thikke, 
 
 And every arwe with other gan mete. 
 And his hed also thei of smette, 
 
 Among the breres thei it kest ; 
 A wolf it kepte withoutyn lette, 
 
 A blynd man fond it at the last. 
 Prey we to that worthi kyng 
 
 That sufferid ded this same day, 
 He saf us, bothe eld and jyng. 
 
 And scheld us fro the fendes fray. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Man, be wys, and arys. 
 
 And thynk on lyf that lestenit ay. 
 
 Thynk, man, qwerof thou art wrout, 
 
 Powre and nakyd thou were heder browt, 
 
 Thynk how Cryst thi sowle ha3t bowt. 
 
 And fond to servyn hym to pay. 
 
74 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Thynk, man, on the dere 3eres thre ; 
 For hunger deyid gret plente, 
 Powre and ryche, bond and fre, 
 
 Thei leyn dede in every way. 
 
 Thynk, man, on the pestelens tweye ; 
 In every cuntre men gunne deye ; 
 Deth left neyther for lowe ne heye, 
 But lettyd hem of here pray. 
 
 Deth is wonder coveytous ; 
 Quan he comit in a manys hous. 
 He takit the good man and his spows, 
 And bryngit hem in powre aray. 
 
 After cam a wyndes blast, 
 That made many a man agast ; 
 Stefve stepelys that stodyn fast, 
 
 The weyke fyllyn and blewyn away. 
 
 Many merveylis God ha3t sent. 
 Of lytenyng and of thunder dent ; 
 At the frere camys hajt it hent, 
 
 At Lj'nne toun, it is non nay. 
 
 Lytenyng at Lynne dede gret harm, 
 Of tolbothe and of frvre carm ; 
 
SONGS AND CAllOLS. '75 
 
 Thei stondyn wol cole, that stodyn wol warm; 
 It made hem a wol sory fray. 
 
 I.ok, man, how thou ledyst thi lyf, 
 And how thou spendyst thi wyttes v. ; 
 Go to cherche, and do the schryf. 
 
 And bryng thi sowle in redy way. 
 
 I.III. 
 
 Go bet, peny, go bet, go, 
 
 For thou mat makyn bothe fiynd and fo. 
 
 Peny is an hardy kny3t ; 
 Peny is mekyl of my3t ; 
 Peny of wrong he makyt ry3t, 
 
 In every cuntre qwer he goo. 
 
 Thow I have a man i-slawe. 
 And forfetyd the kynges lawe, 
 I xal fyndyn a man of lawe 
 
 Wyl takyn myn peny and let me goo, 
 
 And if I have to don fer or ner, 
 And peny be myn massanger, 
 Than am I non thing in dwer 
 
 My cause xal be wol i-doo. 
 
76 SONGS AND CAROLS, 
 
 And if I have pens bolhe good and fyn, 
 Men wyl byddyn me to the wynj 
 '' That I have xal be thin ; " 
 
 Sekyrly thai wil seyn so. 
 
 And quan I have non in myn purs, 
 
 Peny bet, ne peny wers. 
 
 Of me thei holdyn but lytil fors, — 
 
 '' He was a man, let hym goo." 
 
 We ben chapmen ly^t of fote, 
 The fowls weyis for to fle. 
 
 We bern abowtyn non cattes skynnys, 
 
 Pursis, perils, sylver pynnis, 
 
 Smale wympel for ladyis chynnys ; 
 
 Damsele, bey sum ware of me. 
 
 I have a poket for the nonys, 
 Therine ben tweyne precyous stonys ; 
 Damsele, hadde ^e asayid hem onys, 
 
 36 xuld the rathere gon with me. 
 
 I have a jelyf of Godes sonde, 
 Withoutyn fyt it can stonde ; 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 77 
 
 It can smytyn and lia3t non hondc ; 
 Ryd yourself quat it may be. 
 
 I have a powder for to selle, 
 Quat it is can I not telle ; 
 It makit maydenys wombys to swelle ; 
 Therof I have a quantyte. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Ave maris stella, 
 
 the sterre on the see, 
 Dei mater alma, 
 
 blyssid mot xe be. 
 Atque semper virgo, 
 
 pray thi sone for me, 
 Felix cell porta, 
 
 that I may come to the. 
 Gabriel, that archangyl, 
 
 he was massanger. 
 So fayre he gret our lady, 
 
 with an ave so cler. 
 Heyl be thou, Mary, 
 
 be thou, Mary, 
 Ful of Godes grace, 
 
 and qwyn of mercy. 
 
78 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 Alle that arn to grete, 
 
 withoiityn dedly synne, 
 
 Forty dayis of pardoun 
 
 God grauntyt hym. 
 
 Man, be glad in halle and bour, 
 This tyme was born our savyour. 
 
 In this tyme a chyld was born, 
 To save tho sowle that wern forlorn ; 
 For us he werde garlond of thorn, 
 Al it was for our honour. 
 
 The eytende day he was schorn, 
 
 To fulfylle the lawe that was beforn ; 
 
 Of meknesse he blew his horn 
 
 On Good Fryday was don on rode ; 
 The Juwes spyltyn his herte blode ; 
 Mary, his moder, be hym stode ; 
 
 5e ben our help and our socour 
 
 On Esterne day he gan up ryse. 
 To techyn hem that wern onwyse ; 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 79 
 
 Jhesu, for 30111 woundes five, 
 30 ben our, etc. 
 
 On Halwyn Thursday he gan up steyc, 
 To his fader that sit on heye ; 
 Jhesu, for your curteysye, 
 36 ben, etc. 
 
 On Qwytsunday he gan doun sende 
 Wyt and Wysdam us to amende ; 
 Jhesu, bryng us to that ende, 
 
 Withoutyn delay, our savyour. 
 
 LVII, 
 
 Now el, el, el, el, 
 
 Now is w^el that evere was woo. 
 
 A BABE is born al of a may 
 
 In the savasyoun of us. 
 
 To hom we syngyn bothe ny3t and day, 
 
 l^eni creator s^nrihis. 
 
 At Bedlem, that blyssid p[l]as, 
 The chyld of blysse born he was ; 
 Hym to serve geve us gras, 
 lux heata trinitas. 
 
80 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Ther come thre kynges out of the est, 
 To worchepe the kyng that is so fre, 
 With gold and myrre and francincens, 
 A soils ortus carcline. 
 
 The herdes herdyn an aungele cry, 
 A merye song then sungyn he, 
 Qwy arn 30 so sore agast, 
 
 Jam ortus soli's carcline. 
 
 The aungele comyn doun with on cry, 
 A fayr song then sungyn he, 
 In the worchepe of that chyld, 
 Gloria tibi, Domine. 
 
 Man, be merie as bryd on bene, 
 And al thi care let away. 
 
 This tyme is born a chyld ful good, 
 He that us bowt upon the rod ; 
 He bond the devyl that is so wod. 
 Til the drydful domys day. 
 
 Quan the chyld of meche my5t 
 Wold be born of Mary bryjt, 
 
SONGS ANB CAROLS. 
 
 A tokene he sente to kyng and knyjt, 
 
 A sterre that schon bothe ny3t and day. 
 
 The sterre schon as bry3t as fer, 
 Over al the world bothe fer and ner, 
 In tokene he was withoutyn per ; 
 
 And pereles he xal lastyn ay. 
 
 The .viij. day he was circumsise, 
 For to fulfylle the profecye ; 
 The profetes with wordes wyse 
 
 Hym present with ryche aray. 
 
 The .xij. day come kynges thre, 
 
 Out of the est, with herte fre, 
 
 To worchepyn hym thci knelyd on kne, 
 
 With gold and myrr[e] and francincens. 
 
 I may seyn to most and lest, 
 Verbum caro factum est. 
 
 Jhesu of his moder was born. 
 For us he werde garlond of thorn. 
 And ellys hadde we ben forlorn ; 
 
 He tok his deth for most and lest. 
 
 G 
 
82 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 I xal 30U telle good skele qwy 
 That he was born of Mary, 
 For he deyid on Calvory, 
 He tok, etc. 
 
 He wrowt us alle with his hond ; 
 The fendes woldyn adoun us wrong, 
 He bowt us ageyn with peynys strong, 
 He tok his, etc. 
 
 A kerche thanne to him was fet, 
 A spere to his herte was set; 
 Than seyde the Juwys, ''have thou that!" 
 He, etc. 
 
 The Juwis 3evyn hym drynk ezyl and galle, 
 Quan Jhesu after drynk gan calle ; 
 God, let us never in synne falle. 
 He tok, [etc.] 
 
 Prey we to that lord so fre. 
 For us he deyid on a tre. 
 At domys day our helpe he be. 
 He tok, etc. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 83 
 
 liX. 
 
 Nowel, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el, el. 
 NowEL, el, bothe eld and jyng, 
 Nowel, el, nowe mow we syng, 
 In worchepe of our hevene kyng, 
 Almyty God in trinite. 
 
 Lestenyjt, lordynges, bothe leve and dcre, 
 Lestenyt, ladyis, with glad chere, 
 A song of merthe now mow je here, 
 
 How Cryst our brother he wolde be. 
 
 An aungyl fro hefne was sent ful snel, 
 His name his clepyd Gabriel, 
 His ardene he dede ful snel, 
 
 He sat on kne and seyde ''Ave !" 
 
 And he seyde, ''Mary, ful of grace, 
 Hevene and erthe in every place 
 Withine the tyme of lytyl space 
 Reconsilid it xuld be." 
 
 Mary slod stylle as ony ston. 
 And to the aungyl che seyde anon, 
 
 g2 
 
84 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 ''Than herd I nevere of manys mon, 
 
 Me thinkit wonder thou seyst to me." 
 
 The aungyl answerd anon ful wel, 
 " Mary, dryd the never a del, 
 Thou xalt conseyve a chyld ful wel, 
 
 The Holy Gost xal schadue the." 
 
 Mary on bryst here hand die leyd, 
 
 Stylle xe stod, and thus xe seyd, 
 
 " Lo me here Godes owyn handmayd, 
 
 With herte and wil and body fre." 
 
 Mary, moder, mayde myld, 
 For the love al of thi chyld, 
 Fro helle pet thou us schjdd ; 
 
 Amen, amen, now synge we. 
 
 Prenegard, prenegard, 
 Thus bere I myn baselard. 
 
 Lestenit, lordynges, I 50U beseke ; 
 Ther is non man wor3t a leke, 
 Be he sturdy, be he meke. 
 
 But he bere a baselard. 
 
SOXGR AND CAROLS. 85 
 
 Myn baselard hajt a schede of red, 
 And a clene loket of led ; 
 Me thinkit I may bere up myn lied, 
 For I bere myn baselard. 
 
 My baselard lia3t a wrethin hafte ; 
 Quan I am ful of ale cawte, 
 It is gret dred of man- slawtte. 
 For then I bere, etc. 
 
 My baselard ha3t a sylver scliape ; 
 Therfore I may bothe gaspe and gape ; 
 Me thinkit I go lyk non knape, 
 For I bere a baselard. 
 
 My baselard hajt a trencher kene, 
 Fayr as rasour scharp and schene ; 
 Evere me thinkit I may be kene, 
 For I bere, etc. 
 
 As I 3ede up in the strete, 
 With a cartere I gan mete, 
 ''Felawe," he seyde, ''so mot I the, 
 Thou xalt forego thi baselard." 
 
 The cartere his qwyppe began to take ; 
 And al myn fleych began to qwake, 
 
86 SONGS AND CAllOLS. 
 
 And I was Icf for to ascape, 
 
 And there I left myn baselard. 
 
 Quan I cam forjt onto myn damme, 
 Myn lied was brokyn to the panne ; 
 Che seyde I was a praty manne, 
 
 And wel cowde here myn baselard. 
 
 I may seyn, and so mown mo, 
 That in semenaunt gotb g3'le. 
 
 Semenaunt is a wonder thing, 
 It begylyt bo the kny5t and kyng, 
 And makit maydenys of love-longyng ; 
 I warne 50U of that gyle. 
 
 Semenaunt is a sly peyntour, 
 It florchyt and fadit in many a flour. 
 And makit woramen to lesyn here bryte colour, 
 Upon a lytil qwyle. 
 
 In semenaunt be thinges thre, 
 Thowt, speche, and prevyte ; 
 And trewthe xuld the forte be — 
 It is hens a m^- myle. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 87 
 
 Trewthe is fer and semyt hynde, 
 Good and wykkyt it hajt in mynde ; 
 It faryt has a candele ende 
 
 That brennit fro half a myle. 
 
 Many man fayre to me he spekyt, 
 And he wyste hym wel bewreke, 
 He hadde we^] levere myn hed to-breke, 
 Than help me over a style. 
 
 God that deyid upon the cros, 
 Ferst he deyid sythin he ros, 
 Have mercy and pete on us ; 
 
 We levyn here but a qwyle. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Kep thi tunge, thi tunge, thi tunge, 
 Thi wykyd tunge werkit me w[o]. 
 
 Thek is non gres that growit on ground, 
 
 Satenas ne peny round, 
 
 Wersse then is a wykkyd tunge, 
 
 That spekit bethe evyl of frynd and fo. 
 
 Wykkyd tunge makit ofte stryf 
 Betwyxe a good man and his wyf, 
 
88 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 Quan he xulde lede a merie lyf, 
 
 Here qwyte sydys waxin ful bio. 
 
 Wykkyd tunge niakit ofte stauns, 
 Bo the in Engelond and in Frauns ; 
 Many a man wyt sjDere and launs, 
 
 Throw wykkyd tunge, to dede is do. 
 
 Wykkyd tunge brekit bon, 
 
 Thow the self have non ; 
 
 Of his frynd he makit his fon, 
 
 In every place qwere that he go. 
 
 Good men that stondyn and syttyn in this halle, 
 I prey 30U bothe on and alle, 
 That wykkyd tunges fro 30U falle, 
 That 30 mown to hefne go. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Alma Redemjjtoris mater. 
 
 As I lay upon a ny5t, 
 
 My thowt was on a mayde bry3t 
 
 That men callyn Mary of my3t, 
 
 Redemptoris mater. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 89 
 
 To here cam Gabriel so bry3t, 
 And seyde, '^Heyl, Mari, ful of my3t, 
 To be cald thou art ady3t 
 Redempr 
 
 After that word that mayde bryjt 
 Anon conseyvyd God of myjt, 
 And therby wyst men that che hyjt 
 R. 
 
 Ryjt as the sunne schynit in glas, 
 
 So Jhesu in his moder was, 
 
 And therby wyt man that che was 
 
 Now is born that babe of blys, 
 And qwen of hevene is moder is ; 
 And therfore think me that che is 
 R. 
 
 After to hevene he tok his flyjt, 
 And ther he sit with his fader of my3t ; 
 With hym is crownyd that lady bry3t, 
 Redeinptoris mater. 
 
90 SONGS AND CABOLS. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 NoN pudescit corpore, 
 Quod testatur hodie, 
 
 Manna monumenti, 
 dies 
 
 Adest procul dubio 
 nova res audita, 
 
 Infans viso gladio 
 cessat a vagitu, 
 dies. 
 
 Innocencium sanguine 
 Rubent matrum lacryme, 
 
 o licor suavis, 
 Nati danti jugulo, 
 Set caret preposito 
 
 Herodes tua vis, 
 dies. 
 
 Bonus pastor prodiit, 
 
 gaude, grex Anglorum, 
 
 Cujus primus extitit 
 
 Thomas, flos pastorum, 
 dies. 
 
SONCxS AND CAROLS. 91 
 
 Thomas Cantuarie, 
 Omni carens carie, 
 
 pro lege luctaris 
 Dans mucroni militis 
 Tinam tui capitis, 
 
 sic quod coronaris, 
 dies. 
 
 Patitur se parvulus 
 
 carne circumcidi, 
 Qui pro carnalibus 
 
 venerat occidi, 
 dies. 
 
 O stupenda pietas, 
 Amoris quod immetas 
 
 verbi incarnati, 
 Nam stillat sub calice 
 Cruor carnis tenere 
 
 Jhesu nuper nati, 
 dies. 
 
92 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Meum est propositum in taberna mori, 
 Et vinum appositum scicienti ori ; 
 Ut dicant cum venerint angulorum cori, 
 Deus sit propicius iste potatori. 
 
 Potatores singuli sunt omnes benigni ; 
 Tarn senes quam juvenes in eterna igni 
 Cruciantur rustici, qui non sunt tarn digni 
 Qui bibisse noverint bonum vinum vini. 
 
 Unum super omnia bonum diligamus, 
 Nam purgantur vissia dum vinum potamus, 
 Cum nobis sint copia vinum dum clamamus, 
 Qui vivis in gloria, te Deum laudamus. 
 
 Magis quam ecclesiam diligo tabernam, 
 Ipsam nullo tempore sprevi neque spernam, 
 Donee sanctos angelos venientes cernam, 
 Cantantibus pro ebriis requiem eternam. 
 
 Fertuv in convivium vinus, na, num, 
 Masculinum duplicet atque femininum, 
 Set in neutro genere vinum est devinum, 
 Loqui facit socios optimum Latinum. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 LXVII. 
 
 If I synge 56 wyl me lakke, 
 
 And wenyn I were out of myn wyt ; 
 Therfore smale notes wil I crake, 
 
 So wolde God I were qwyt. 
 Syn me muste take this mery toyn, 
 
 To glade withal this cumpany, 
 I rede, or ony swych be don, 
 
 For Godes love, tey up 3our ky. 
 For sothe I may not synge, I say, 
 
 My voys and I arn at discord ; 
 But we xul fonde to take a day, 
 
 To takyn myn avys and myn acord. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Wok'um, ^ol, thou mery mau, 
 In worchepe of this holy day. 
 
 WoLCUM be thou, hevene kyng, 
 Wolcum, born in on morwenyng, 
 Wolcum, for horn we xal syng, 
 
 Wolcum, 30I. 
 
 Wolcum be 36, Stefne and Jon, 
 Wolcum, innocentes everychon ; 
 Wolcum, Thomas, marter on ; 
 
 Wolcum, 50I. 
 
 93 
 
 ^ 
 
94 SONGS AND CAKOLS. 
 
 Wolcum be 36, good newe jerc, 
 Wolcum, twelthe day, bothe in fere ; 
 Wolcum, seyntes, lef and dere ; 
 
 Wolcum, 30L 
 
 Wolcum be 30, candylmesse ; 
 Wolcum be 30, qwyn of blys, 
 Wolcum bothe to more and lesse ; 
 
 Wolcum, 30I. 
 
 Wolcum be 36 that am here ; 
 Wolcum, alle, and mak good chere ; 
 Wolcum, alle, another 3ere ; 
 
 Wolcum, 30U 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Lullay, myn lykyng, my clere sone, myn swetyng ; 
 Lullay, my dere herte, myn owyn dere derlyng. 
 
 I SAW a fayr maydyn syttyn and synge, 
 Sche lullyd a lytyl chyld, a swete lordyng, 
 
 Lullay, myn, [etc.] 
 
 That eche lord is that that made alle thinge, 
 Of alle lordis he is lord, of alle kynges kyng. 
 
 Lullay. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 95 
 
 Ther was mekyl melody at that chyldes berthe, 
 Alle tho wern in hevene blys thei made mekyl merthe, 
 
 [LuUay.] 
 
 Aungelebryjt thei song that ny3t and seydyn to that cliyld, 
 Blyssid be thou, and so be sche that is bothe mek and 
 myld. 
 
 [Lullay.] 
 
 Prey we now to that chyld, and to his moder dere, 
 Grawnt hem his blyssyng that now makyn chere. 
 
 [Lullay.] 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Hostis Herodis impie, Christum venire quid times ? non erpit 
 mortalia. 
 Enmy Herowde, thou wokkyd kyng, 
 Qwy dredes thou the of Cristes comyng ? 
 He dezyryt here non erthely thing, 
 That hevene hajt at his 3evyng. 
 
 Ibaiit magi quam viderant stellam sequentes, premant lumen. 
 Thre kynges thei saw a sterre ful bryjt, 
 Thei folwyd it with al here myjt, 
 Bry3tnesse thei saw throw that lyjt, 
 Thei knewc God with here 3yftes ry3t. 
 
96 SOXGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 Lavacra puri gurgitis selestis angnus attigit peccata. . . .11011... . 
 The welle }ia3t waschyn us fro wo, 
 The lomb of hevene is comyn us to, 
 He that synne nevere wold do, 
 Ha5t waschyn clene our synnys us fro. 
 
 Novum genus potencie aque rubescunt idiie uuuiu. . . .inc. 
 His my3t is chawngyd of newe maner, 
 The water w^x red in pecher ; 
 The water is turnyd to wyn ful cler, 
 Ageyn the kynde thow it were. 
 
 Gloria tibi, Domine, qui aperuisti hodie cum patre et sancto 
 spiritu in sempiterna secula. Amen. 
 
 Lovyng Lord be to the ay. 
 
 That hajt schewyd the to us this day, 
 
 With fader and holy gost veray, 
 
 That in the word never fayle may. 
 
 LXXl. 
 
 As I me lend to a lend, 
 
 I herd a schepperde makyn a schowte ; 
 He gronyd and seyde, with sory syghyng, 
 
 " A, Lord! how gos this word abowte. 
 
SONGS AND CAKOLS. 97 
 
 " It gos fill wrong, ho so it wyst, 
 
 A frend he may ken fro his foo ; 
 To horn I may trewely trost, 
 
 In fayth I fynde but fewe of tho. 
 
 " The sothe me thinkyt, if I xulde say, 
 Trewe frendes arn fewe withoutyn dowte ; 
 
 AUe half frendes wel worth hem ay, 
 O, Lord ! how gos this word abowte, 
 
 '' Alle trewe frendes wel worth hem ay, 
 
 In wel, in wo, in hert, in thowth, 
 It must be soth that alle men say, 
 
 He was nevere good frend was wroth for nov/th. 
 
 '' Now wel, now wo; now frend, now foo; 
 
 Now lef, now thef ; now in, now out ; 
 Now cum, now go ; now to, now froo ; 
 
 O, Lord ! how gos this word abowte ! 
 
 " The werst wytes werte of alle mankende, 
 Alle wykkyd timges ay worth hem woo ! 
 
 Thei arn ful fayin fals talis to fynd, 
 Thei gref me thus I may not goo. 
 
 H 
 
98 SONGS AND CAROLS. 
 
 " But, God, of hem thou take sum wreche. 
 
 And arest hem alle be rowt, 
 That fals arn and fayre cun spake ; 
 
 O, Lord I how gos this word abowte ! 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Mak me merthe for Crystes berthe, 
 And syng we 50I til candilmesse. 
 
 The ferste day of 30I we han in mynde, 
 
 How man was born al of our kende, 
 
 For he wold the bondes onbynde 
 
 Of alle our synne and wykkydnes. 
 The secunde day we synge of Stevene, 
 That stonyd was, and fid up evene. 
 With Cryst ther he wold stonde in hevene, 
 
 And crownyd was for his promys. 
 The threde day longe to saynt Jon, 
 That was Crystes derlyng, derest on, 
 To hom he lok, quan he xuld gon, 
 
 His dere moder for his clennes. 
 The forte day of the chylderyng 3yng, 
 With Herowdes wretthe to deth were wrong. 
 Of Cryst thei cowde not speke with long, 
 
 But with here blod bare wytnesse. 
 The fyfte day halwyt seynt Thomas, 
 
SONGS AND CAHOLS. 99 
 
 Ryth as strong as pelcr of bras, 
 Hyld up his kyrke and slayin was, 
 
 For he stod faste in rythwynes 
 The extende day tok Jhesu his nam. 
 That savyd mankynde fro synne and schame, 
 And circumsysed was for non blame, 
 
 But for insane and mekeness. 
 The xii. day offeryd to him kynges iij. 
 Gold, myrre, incens, this 3yftes fre, 
 For God, and man, and kyng is he. 
 
 And thus thei worchepyd his worthinesse. 
 The forty day cam Mary myld. 
 Onto the temple with here schyld. 
 To schewyne here alone that never was fyld ; 
 And herewith endis Crystemesse. 
 
 I.XXII. 
 
 Mak je merrie, as ye may, 
 And syng with me, I jou pray. 
 
 In Patras ther born he was 
 
 The holy buschop seynt Nycholas, 
 
 He wyst mekyl of Godes gras. 
 
 Throw vertu of the Trinite. 
 
 He reysyd thre klerkes fro deth to lyfve, 
 
 That wern in salt put ful swythe, 
 
 Betwyx a bochere and his wyfve, 
 
100 SONGS AND CAllOLS. 
 
 And was hid in privy te. 
 He maryid thre maydenys of myld mod ; 
 He 3af hem gold to here fod ; 
 He turnyd hem fro ille to good, 
 
 Throw vertu of the Trynyte. 
 Another he dede sekyrly, 
 He savyd a thef that was ful sly, 
 That stal a swyn out of his sty ; 
 
 His lyf than savyd he. 
 God grawt us grace, bothe old and 3yng, 
 Hym to serve at his plesyng ; 
 To hevene blysse he us bryng. 
 
 Throw verlu of the Trinite. 
 
 M 
 
 LXXIY. 
 
 Kyiie, so kyrie, Jankyn syngyt merie, with aleyson. 
 
 As I went on 50I day 
 
 in owre prosessyon. 
 Know I joly Jankyn 
 
 be his mery ton ; 
 Jankyn began the offys 
 
 on the 30I day ; 
 And 3it me thynkyt it dos me good, 
 
 so merie gan he say, 
 
 Kyrieleyson. 
 
SONGS AND CAROLS. 101 
 
 Jankyn red the pystyl 
 
 ful fayre and ful wel, 
 And 3yt me thinkyt it dos me good, 
 
 as evere have I sal. 
 Jankyn at the sanctus 
 
 crakit a merie note, 
 And 3it me thinkyt it dos me good, 
 
 I pay id for his cote. 
 Jankyn crakit notes, 
 
 an hunderid on a knot, 
 And 3yt he hakkyt hem smallere 
 
 than wortes to the pot. 
 k. 
 Jankyn at the angnus 
 
 beryt the pax brede. 
 He twynkelid, but sayd nowt, 
 
 and on myn fot he trede. 
 Benedicamus Domino, 
 
 Cryst from schame me schylde. 
 Deo gracias thereto, 
 
 alas ! I go with schylde. 
 k. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page 2, line 9. Noid hething the, gentihnan. This is 
 but another form of the old popular proverb — 
 When Adam dolve and Eve span, 
 Who was then the gentleman? 
 
 It was the well-known motto of the English popular 
 insurrections of the fourteenth century. Ilolinshed, 
 speaking of the troubles in the reign of Richard II, and of 
 the priest John Ball, says, " When all the prisons were 
 broken up, and the prisoners set at libertie, he being 
 therefore so delivered, followed them, and at Blackeheath 
 when the greatest multitude was there got togither (as 
 some write) he made a sermon, taking this saieng or 
 common proverbe for his theame, whereupon to intreat, — 
 
 When Adam delv'd and Eve span, 
 Who was then a gentleman ? 
 
 and so continueing his sermon, went about to proove by 
 the words of that proverbe, that from the beginning all 
 men by nature were created alike, and that bondage or 
 servitude came in by unjust oppression of naughtie men." 
 The same proverb existed in German, and is given by 
 Agricola (Prov. No. 264) as follows : — 
 
 So Adam reutte, und Eva span, 
 Wer was da eiu eddelraan? 
 
104 NOTES. 
 
 In a Manuscript in the British Museum of the fourteenth 
 century, (MS. Harl, No. 3362, fol. 7) the same proverb is 
 given in Latin leonines — 
 
 Cum vanga quadam tellurem foderit Adam, 
 Et Eva nens fuerat, quis generosus erat? 
 
 Page 2, Z. 11. In the vale of Abraham . According to the 
 medigeval notion, the scene of the creation lay in the valley 
 of Hebron, which was afterwards the residence of Abraham. 
 "And in that same place," says Maundevile (p. 66), "was 
 Abrahames hous ; and there he satt and saughe thre 
 persones, and worschipte but on, as holy writt seythe, Tres 
 vidit et unutn adoravit, that is to seyne, he saughe thre, 
 and worschiped on ; and of the same resceyved Abraham 
 the aungeles into his hous. And righte faste by that place 
 is a cave in the roche where Adam and Eve duelleden, whan 
 thei weren putt out of Paradyse, and there goten thei here 
 children. And in that same place was Adam formed and 
 made, aftre that that sum men seyn. For men weren wont 
 for to clepe that place the feld of Damasce, because that it 
 w^as in the lordschipe of Damask. And fro thens was he 
 translated into Paradys of delytes, as thei seyn ; and aftre 
 that he was dryven out of Paradys, he was there left," 
 
 Page 2, I. 17. An ai^inl-tre. The popular religious 
 writers in the middle ages believed literally that the tree 
 of knowledge was an apple-tree, and that the fruit which 
 Eve plucked was an apple. In the curious sermon, in 
 French verse of the thirteenth century, published by 
 M. Jubinal, we read — 
 
 Deus, quele dolor 
 Et cum grant tristor 
 Lor vint a soffrir, 
 
NOTES. 105 
 
 Par icele pome 
 Qui a un sol home 
 Vint si a plaisir ! 
 
 The account of the fall in the same poem may be quoted 
 as illustrative of our song, especially in the circumstance 
 that the part acted by Eve is omitted, and the serpent is 
 supposed to have tempted Adam.— 
 
 Grant nial fist Adam, 
 Qui par le Sathan 
 
 Tel conseil crut ; 
 Mai conseil li dona, 
 Qui ceo lui loa. 
 
 Car tost Tout soduit. 
 Par renticement 
 Del mortel serpent 
 
 Fu tost deposes ; 
 Mult par fu chatifs 
 Quant de Parais 
 
 Fu deserites. 
 Mult par pout plorer 
 Quant ne pout entrer 
 
 La dum 11 esteit ; 
 Li angres ert devant 
 s'espee ardent 
 
 Qui deffendeit. 
 
 Page 4:, I. Z. ^eynt Nicholas... may dents fare. This was 
 one of the stories of the beneficent interference of St. 
 Nicholas which was very popular in the middle ages. It 
 is told as follows in Caxton's edition of the Liher Festivalis 
 (1484). "Than fyl it so that there was a ryche man that 
 had doughters fayre and yonge wymmen, but by myschyef 
 he was fallen unto poverte, so for grcte nede he ordcyned 
 
106 NOTES. 
 
 hem to be comen women for to geten her Ijvyng and hys 
 bothe ; and whan Nicholas herde therof, he had grete 
 compassjon of hem, and on a nyght pryvelye at a windowe 
 he caste a bagge wyth a somme of golde into the mannes 
 chaumbre. Than on the morowe-tyde that man aroos and 
 founde thys golde ; than was he glad therwith that no man 
 coude telle hit, and anone with that golde he maried his 
 elder doughter. Than another nyght Nycholas caste 
 another somme of golde into the mannes chaumbre as he 
 dyd before ; and so the iij. nyght, whan this man herde the 
 golde falle, anone he went out and overtoke Nycholas, and 
 knewe that it was he that had holpen hym soo in his 
 myschyef, and knelid doun and wold have kissed his fete, 
 but he wold not suffre hym, but prayed hym to kepe 
 counceyl whyle he lyved." 
 
 Page 6, I. 5. Farye, An enchantment ; a scene of 
 fairy-land. 
 
 Page 11, I. 13 Woramen be bothe good and trewe. 
 Another copy of this song is found in MS. Harl. No. 7358, 
 which, as it presents some variations, may be given entire 
 for comparison. 
 
 Wymmen beth bothe goude and truwe, 
 
 Wytnesse on Marie. 
 Wymmen beth bothe goud and scbene, 
 On handes, fet, and face clene ; 
 Wymmen may no beter bene ; 
 
 W. o. M. 
 Wymmen beth gentel on her torn-; 
 A womman bar oure Savyom' ; 
 Of al thys wor[ld] wyman is flour ; 
 
 W. o. M. 
 Wyrchyp we wymmanys face, 
 
NOTES. 107 
 
 Wer we seth hem on a place ; 
 For wymman ys the wyl of grace. 
 
 W. 0. M. 
 Love a womman with herte truwo, 
 He nel chongy for no newe ; 
 Wymmen beth of wordes fewe ; 
 
 W. o. M. 
 Wymmen beth goud, withoiite lesyng; 
 Fro sorwe and care hy wol us bryng ; 
 Wymman ys flour of alle thyng; 
 
 W. o. M. 
 
 Page 16, I. 7. Man, he war. This stanza, with slight 
 variation, forms the commencement of a song in the Songs 
 and Carols edited for the Percy Society, p. 4. 
 
 Page 16, ^.15, Of a rose. Another copy of this song 
 will be found in the Percy Society Songs and Carols, p. 21. 
 
 Page 20, I. 7. Religiuus. It may perhaps be well to 
 observe that this word, in old English, meant almost 
 invariably people in the monastic orders. 
 
 Page 26, 1. 2. Of joyisfive. A different song on the "five 
 joys" is printed in the Percy Society Songs and Carols, p. 68. 
 It is a subject celebrated in a vast number of petty effusions 
 in verse and prose, and in many languages, scattered 
 through the manuscripts of the middle ages, A short 
 English poem on the same subject will be found in the 
 Reliquice Antiquoi, vol. i, p. 48. 
 
 Page 27, I. 6. Knet ui^ the haltre and let here goo. 
 Nearly the same phrase occurs as the burthen of a ballad 
 on the fickleness of women, of the age of Henry VI, printed 
 in the Reliquim Antiques, vol. i, p. 75, the first stanza of 
 which is as follows. — 
 
108 NOTES. 
 
 I not what I shall syng nor say, 
 
 I, man forsakyn, wo worth the whyle ! 
 Ho may hold that wyll away ? 
 
 My soveren laid has don me gyle. 
 
 I have betho^t me upon a wyle, 
 Sythen that hur hert ys turnyd me fro, 
 
 I hold yt the best, for drede of gyle, 
 Turne up hur Miter and let hur go. 
 
 Another poem on the same subject and of the same period, 
 printed also in the Reliquice Antiquce (vol. i. p. 27), has a 
 similar burthen, taken like it from the language of hawking. 
 The first stanza is — 
 
 Who carpys of byrddys of grate jentrys. 
 
 The sperhawke me semyth makys moste dysporte, 
 And moste acordynge for alle degreys, 
 
 For smalle byrddys sche puttys to morte. 
 Y reclaymyd on, as y schalle reporte. 
 As longe as sche wolde to me aply ; 
 
 When sche wolde no^t to my glove resorte, 
 Then pluhkyd y of here belly s, and let herejly. 
 
 Page 28, 1. 1. Another copy of this song, with variations, 
 and the omission of the third stanza, will be found in the 
 Percy Society Songs and Carols, p. 18. 
 
 Page 29, 1. 2. Gret with, i. e., greeted by. A not un- 
 usual phrase in early English. 
 
 Page 31, I. 1. The writer of this song appears to have 
 had in his eye the description of the cock in Chaucer's 
 Nonne Prestes Tale (Cant. T. 16,335). 
 
 In which sche had a cok, hight Chaunteclere, 
 In al the lond of crowyng was noon his peere. 
 His vois was merier than the mery orgon, 
 On masse dayes that in the chirche goon; 
 
NOTES. 109 
 
 Wei selcerer was his crowyng in his logge, 
 
 Than is a clok, or an abbay orologge. 
 
 By nature knew he ech ascencioun 
 
 Of equinoxial in thilke toun ; 
 
 For whan degrees fyftene were ascendid, 
 
 Thanne crewe he, it might not ben amendid. 
 
 His comb loas redder than the fyn coral, 
 
 And batayld, as it were a castel wal. 
 
 His bile was blak, and as the geet it schon ; 
 
 Lik asur were his legges, and his ton ; 
 
 His nayles whitter than the lily flour, 
 
 And lik the burnischt gold was his colour. 
 
 Page 31, 1. 16. Worteioale. The skin which covered the 
 claws. 
 
 Page 32, I. 11. Adam lay i-hoivndyn. Adam was 
 supposed to have remained in bonds, with the other patri- 
 archs, in the limbus patrum, from the time of his death till 
 the crucifixion of the Saviour. 
 
 Page 33, I. 7. The sort of paradoxes contained in this 
 curious popular song seem to be of considerable antiquity, 
 and have been preserved in nearly the same form, almost, 
 if not quite, down to our own time. They will be found in 
 the following ballad, which is here given from a chap -book 
 printed at Newcastle about the beginning of the present 
 century, but which is no doubt of much greater antiquity. 
 
 LOED EOSLIN'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 The lord of Roslin's daughter 
 
 Walks through the wood her lane, 
 
 And by came captain Wedderburn, 
 A servant to the king. 
 
110 NOTES. 
 
 He said unto his servant man, 
 Were it not against the law, 
 
 I would take her to my own hed, 
 And lay her next the wa'. 
 
 I'm walking here alane, she says, 
 
 Amang my father's trees, 
 And you may let me walk alane, 
 
 Kind sir, now, if you please. 
 The supper hell it will be rung, 
 
 And I'll he miss'd, you knaw ; 
 So I will not lie in your hed, 
 
 Neither at stock nor wa'. 
 
 He says. My pretty lady, 
 
 I pray lend me your hand. 
 And you'll have drums and trumpets 
 
 Always at your command, 
 And fifty men to guard you with. 
 
 That well their swords can draw, 
 And we'll baith lie in ae bed, 
 
 And thou's ly next the wa". 
 
 Hold away from me, kind sir, 
 
 I pray let go my hand ; 
 The supper bell it will be rung, 
 
 No longer will I stand ; 
 My father he'll no supper take, 
 
 If I be miss'd, you knaw ; 
 So I'll not lie in your bed. 
 
 Neither at stock nor wa'. 
 
 Then said the pretty lady, 
 I pray, tell me your name. 
 
Ill 
 
 My name is Captain Wcdderburn, 
 
 A servant to the king. 
 Tho' tby father and his men were here, 
 
 Of him I'd not stand in aw ; 
 But wou'd take thee into my bed, 
 
 And lay the next the wa'. 
 
 He lighted off his milk-white steed, 
 
 And set his lady on, 
 And held her by the milk-white hand, 
 
 Even as they rode along. 
 He held her by the middle so jimp, 
 
 For fear that she shou'd fa'; — 
 So I'll take thee to my own bed. 
 
 And lay the next the wa'. 
 
 He took her to his lodging house. 
 
 His landlady look been, — 
 Since many pretty ladies 
 
 In Edinburgh I've seen; 
 But such a pretty face as thine 
 
 In it I never saw. 
 Go meake her up a down bed, 
 
 And lay her next the wa'. 
 
 Hold away from me, kind sir, 
 
 I pray you let me be ; 
 For I will not go to your bed 
 
 Till you dress me dishes three. 
 Dishes three you must do to me, 
 
 If I shou'd eat them a'. 
 Before that I lie in your bed. 
 
 Either at stock or wa'. 
 
112 NOTES. 
 
 0, I must have to my supper 
 
 A cherry without a stone ; 
 And I must have to my supper 
 
 A chicken without a bone ; 
 And I must have to my supper 
 
 A bird without a ga' ; 
 Before that I lie in your bed, 
 
 Either at stock or wa'. 
 
 When the cheny is in the bloom, 
 
 I am sure it has no stone ; 
 And when the chicken's in the shell, 
 
 I'm sure it has no bone ; 
 The dove it is a gentle bird, 
 
 It flies without a ga' ; 
 And we's lie baith within ae bed, 
 
 And thou's lie next the wa'. 
 
 Hold away from me, kind sir, 
 
 I i)ray you give me o'er; 
 For I will not go till your bed, 
 
 Till you answer me questions four. 
 Questions four you must tell me. 
 
 And that is twa and twa. 
 Or I will not lie in your bed. 
 
 Neither at stock or wa'. 
 
 You must get me some winter fruit 
 
 That in December grew ; 
 And I must have a silk mantle. 
 
 That wraft was ne'er ca'd throw; 
 What bird sings best and wood buds first. 
 
 That dew doth on them fa' ; 
 And then I'll lie into your bed, 
 
 Either at stock or wa'. 
 
113 
 
 My father has some winter fruit 
 
 That in December grew ; 
 My mother has a silk mantle, 
 
 That wraft was ne'er ca'd throw ; 
 The cock crows first, cyder buds first, 
 
 The dew doth on them fa' ; 
 So we'll baith lie in ae bed, 
 
 And thou's lie next the wa'. 
 
 Hold away from me, kind sir, 
 
 And do not me perplex ; 
 For I'll not lie into your bed 
 
 Till you answer me questions six ; 
 Questions six you must tell me, 
 
 And that is four and twa. 
 Before that I lie into your bed, 
 
 Either at stock or wa'. 
 
 What is greener than the grass? 
 
 What's higher than the trees ? 
 And what is worse than woman's voice ? 
 
 What's deeper than the seas ? 
 A sparrow's horn, a priest unborn, 
 
 This night to join us twa. 
 Before I lie into your bed, 
 
 Either at stock or wa'. 
 
 Death is greener than the grass ; 
 
 Sky is higher than the trees ; 
 The devil's worse than woman's voice ; 
 
 Hell's deeper than the seas ; 
 A sparrow's horn you may well get. 
 
 There's one on ilka pa'. 
 And two upon the gab of it. 
 
 And you shall have them a'. 
 
114 NOTES. 
 
 The priest he's standing at the door, 
 
 Just ready to come in, 
 No man can say that he was born, 
 
 No man without a fin : 
 A hole cut in his mother's side, 
 
 He from the same did fa'; 
 So we will both lie in ae bed, 
 
 And thou's he next the wa'. 
 
 0, little did the lady think, 
 
 That morning when she raise, 
 That it was to be the last night 
 
 Of her maiden days ; 
 But there is not in the king's realm 
 
 To be found a blyther twa : 
 And now they both he in one bed. 
 
 And she lies next the wa'. 
 
 In his interesting little volume, Pojjular Rhymes and 
 Nursery Tales, p. 150, Mr. Halliwell has given the follow- 
 ing verses, as current in the north of England, which 
 resemble still more closely those in our text : — 
 
 THE rOUK SISTERS. 
 
 I have four sisters beyond the sea, 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, domine. 
 And they did send four presents to me, 
 
 Partum, quartum, paradise, tempum, 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, domine. 
 
 The first it was a bird without e'er a bone ; 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 The second was a cherry without e'er a stone; 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
NOTES. 115 
 
 The third it was a blanket without e'er a thread ; 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 The fourth it was a hook which no man could read ; 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
 How can there be a bird without e'er a bone? 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 How can there be a cherry without e'er a stone ? 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
 How can there b3 a blanket without e'er a thread? 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 How can there be a book which no man can read? 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
 When the bird's in the shell, there is no bone ; 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 When the cherry's in the bud, there is no stone ; 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
 When the blanket's in the fleece, there is no thread ; 
 
 Para-mara, dictum, &c. 
 When the book's in the press, no man can read ; 
 
 Partum, quartum, &c. 
 
 Pa^e 37, 1. 3. Betwyin an ox and an as. The ox and 
 ass were perhaps first introduced for the sake of pictorial 
 efiect, to show that the scene was really a stable ; but it 
 became subsequently an article of literal belief that these 
 two animals attended the birth of the Saviour, and they 
 always appear in the illuminations of missals, etc. 
 
 Page 37, I. 18. Balti/zar. The legends differ in the order 
 of the kings, and also in the appropriation of their offerings. 
 In the Coventry Mysteries^ as in our song, the first king is 
 
116 NOTES. 
 
 Baltazare, and he offers gold ; the second, Melchizar, who 
 offers incense ; and the third, Jasper, whose offering is 
 myrrh. The order is the same in the French Geu des 
 Trois Roys, published by M. Jubinal. In the Tovmeley 
 Mysteries, the first king is Jaspar, who offers gold; the 
 second, Melchor, who offers " rekyls" (incense) ; the third, 
 Balthesar, who offers myrrh. The English legend of the 
 Three Kings, published in my edition of the Chester Plays, 
 tells us, " Melchior that was kyng of Nube and of Arable, 
 that offred gold to God, he was lest of stature and of per- 
 sone ; Baltazar, that was kyng of Godolie and of Saba, that 
 offred encense to God, he was of mene stature in his per- 
 sone ; and Jasper that was kyng of Taars and of Egripwille, 
 that offred mirre to God, he was most in persone, and was 
 a blacke Ethiope," 
 
 Page 42, I. 5. Rohyim. This song furnishes us with 
 rather a curious example of the danger of hasty criticism. 
 Ritson, who printed it in his Ancient Songs and Ballads, 
 took the word lyth for a proper name, although the form 
 it takes in the refrain at the end, ly\th, shows clearly 
 enough its meaning, lieth. Isot content with this, by a 
 little stretch of his imagination, he has given a short sketch 
 of the life of his hero, Robin Lyth, whom he even supposed 
 to be one of Robin Hood's own men, who set up the trade 
 of outlaw for himself after the death of his master. 
 " "Who or what this Robin Lyth was," he observes, " does 
 not, otherwise than by this little performance, composed, it 
 should seem, to commemorate the manner of his death, and 
 of the revenge taken for it, anywhere appear. That he was 
 a native or inhabitant of Yorkshire is, indeed, highly pro- 
 bable, for two reasons : the first is, that a few miles north 
 of Whitby is a village called Lythe, whence he may be rea- 
 
NOTES. 117 
 
 sonably supposed to have acquired his surname ; the second, 
 that near Flamborough, in Holderness, is a large cavern 
 in the rocks, subject, at present, to the influx of the sea, 
 which, among the country people, retains to this day the 
 name of Robin Lyth hole; from the circumstance, no doubt, 
 of its having been one of his skulking places. Robin Hood, 
 a hero of the same occupation, had several such in those 
 and other parts ; and, indeed, it is not very improbable that 
 our hero had been formerly in the suite of that gallant 
 robber, and, on his master's death, had set up for himself." 
 
 Page 42, I. 8. Gandeleyn. This name seems to be con- 
 nected with that of Gamelyn^ in the CoTces Tale attributed 
 to Chaucer. It was probably a well known one in this class 
 of ballads. 
 
 Page 42, 1. 10. Chylderin. This word evidently means 
 here upgrown men. It is one of those words which appear 
 to have been formerly used in a much less restricted sense 
 than at j)resent, and we have such examples as ' Horn 
 child,' etc. 
 
 Page 48, I. 7. Moder, qivyt as. Another copy of this 
 song, with variations, and one stanza more at the end, will 
 be found in the Songs and Carols of the Percy Society, p. 
 50. The additional stanza is — 
 
 Swych mornyng as the maydyn mad, 
 
 I can not telle it in this howr ; 
 Therfor be mery and glade, 
 
 And make us mery for our Savowr. 
 
 Page 49, I. 9. Reges de Saha. Another copy of this song 
 also occurs in the collection printed for the Percy Society, 
 p. 46, where it is much more complete. 
 
 Page 60, I. 15. On Schyre-Thursday. Shear-Thursday, 
 
118 NOTES. 
 
 or Maundy-Thursday, the day on which Christ's last supper 
 with his disciples is commemorated. 
 
 Page 63, I. 1. Seynt Stevene. I do not know whence this 
 strange legend of St. Stephen being king Herod's clerk of 
 the kitchen is derived. 
 
 Page G5, I. 1. Noivel. This song also occurs with varia- 
 tions, as usual, among the Percy Society So7igs and Carols, 
 p. 38. 
 
 Page 66, I. 1 7. The greteste clerk. Thomas Becket, arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury. 
 
 Page 68, 1. 9. For lij. 2^ogntes. This must, I suppose, 
 refer to the " Constitutions" of Clarendon, which, however, 
 were sixteen in number, and not fifty-two. The manu- 
 script, however, is very incorrectly written, and the songs 
 are apparently taken down from memory. 
 
 PageQdyl. 11. M. and A. Another copy of this song 
 will be found in the Songs and Carols of the Percy Society, 
 p. 31. 
 
 Page 73, I. 4. Of Jcyng Edmund. Edmund king of the 
 East Angles; the wolf and the blind man figure in this 
 legend, which will be found in Capgrave, Nov. Leg.Anglice. 
 
 Page 74, I. 1. The dere \eres thre. I. 5. The pestelens 
 tweye. I. 13. A wyndes blast. See on these allusions, the 
 Preface. 
 
 Page 74, I. 19. At the frere camys . . . at Lynne toun. 
 There was a priory of Carmelites, or White Friars, at 
 Lynn, in Norfolk, but I have not been able to trace any 
 other mention of the accidental burning of it, which is 
 alluded to in our song. 
 
 Page 75, I. 7. Go het,peny. This song was printed by 
 Ritson, in his Ancient Po])ular Poetry. The subject was 
 far from an uncommon one, and is found versified in French 
 
NOTES. 119 
 
 and Latin, as well as in English. See my edition of the 
 Latin Poems commonly attributed to Walter Maj^es, pp. 223, 
 355. 
 
 Page 88, I. 7. Wyhhjd tunge. It is perhaps hardly ne- 
 cessary to remark that this was a very old and popular 
 proverb. 
 
 Page 92, 1. 1. Memn est propositum . This is very curious, 
 as being, as far as I am aware, the earliest instance in which 
 these celebrated lines, taken from one of the poems attri- 
 buted to Walter Mapes, are given in the form of a song. 
 The song, in its ordinary form, was first printed, I believe, 
 in Camden's Remaines. It is made up from lines in the 
 Confessio Golice. See my Latiii Poems attributed to Walter 
 Mapes, p. 71. 
 
 Page 99, I. 18. In Pair as. It is hardly necessary to 
 make any further remark upon this song, than that the 
 stories alluded to in it will be found in the legendary life of 
 St. Nicholas, One of them has already been the subject of 
 a song in this collection. See Song iii. 
 
 Page 100, I. 23. Kgrieleyson. The Greek, Kvpi^ eXeiaov, 
 i. e., Loi-d, have mercy iipon us, a part of the Liturgy. 
 
 T. RICHAUDS. TRINTEK, ST GREAT QUEEN STREET. 
 
RETURN T^O^^J^^^[^ 
 
 RENEl 
 
 itti 
 
 J-3405 
 
 LI UHJI.I w ■ ■! Ill -i "^ below, Of 
 
 BEC'DLD .AUG iSTO^^PMAii 
 
 ffiCTLT^orbwRSX 
 
 — rtea*«^ 
 
 •Gtfteyt::A=ftQ+^ 
 
 
 LD2lA-bUm 
 
 (N5382sl0)476-A-32 
 
UC BERKtLEV LlBRARltS 
 
 CD3B221M1'^ 
 
 .^B^ 
 
 
 4 /-" .<> f-V f 
 
 4i.-f--