Thre kynges off great noblay, whan that chyld was born, To hym they tok the redy way, and kneled hym beforn, With ay; Thes iij kynges cam fro fare, Thorow ledyng of a stare, And offered hym gold, encence, and mure. And to hys moder Mary. XII. HEY, hey, hey, hey, the borrys hede is armyd gay. The boris hede in hond I bryng, With garlond gay in porttoryng, I pray yow alle with me to synge, With hay. Lordys, knyȝttes, and skyers, Persons, prystis, and wycars, The boris hede ys the furt mes, With hay. The boris hede, as I yow say, He takis his leyfe, and gothe his way, Gone after the xij, theyl ffyt day, With hay. Then commys in the secunde kowrs with mykylle pryde, The crannus, the heyrrouns, the bytteris by ther syde, The pertrychys and the plowers, the wodcokus and the snyt, With hay. Larkys in hot schow, ladys for to pyk, Good drynk therto, lycyus and fyne, Blwet of allmayne, romnay and wyin, With hay. Gud bred alle and wyin dare I welle say, The boris hede with musterd armyd soo gay; Furmante to pottage, with wennissun fyne, And the hombuls of the dow, and all that ever commis in; Cappons i-bake, with the pesys of the roow, Reysons of corrons, with odyre spysis moo. XIII. Caput afri differo Reddens laudes domino. THE bore’s heed in hand bring I, With garlans gay and rosemary, I pray you all synge merely Qui estis in convivio. The bore’s heed, I vnderstande, Is the chefe seruyce in this lande; Loke, where euer it be fande, Seruite cum cantico. Be gladde lordes, bothe more and lasse, For this hath ordeyned our stewarde, To chere you all this Christmasse, The bores heed with mustarde. XIV. In Betheleem. BE we mery in this feste, In quo saluator natus est. In Betheleem, that noble place, As by prophesy sayd it was, Of the vyrgyn Mary, full of grace, Saluator mundi natus est. Be we mery, &c. On Chrystmas nyght, an angel it tolde To the shephardes, kepyng theyr folde, That into Betheleem with bestes wolde, Saluator mundi natus est. Be we mery, &c. The shephardes were copassed ryght, About them was a great lyght, Drede ye nought, sayd the angell bryght, Saluator mundi natus est. Be we mery, &c.