_Mac._ But I come or they rise; else blows a cold blast-- I will go sleep. [_Mac goes back to the field._ Yet sleep all this menye,[137] And I shall go stalk privily, As it had never been I That carried their sheep. _1st Shepherd._ _Resurrex à mortrius_: have hold my hand. _Judas carnas dominus_, I may not well stand: My foot sleeps, by Jesus, and I water fastand! I thought that we laid us full near England. _2nd Shepherd._ Ah ye! Lord, how I have slept weel! As fresh as an eel, As light I me feel As leaf on a tree. _3rd Shepherd._ Benste![138] be herein! So my head quakes My heart is out of skin, what so it makes. Who makes all this din? So my brow aches, To the door will I win. Hark fellows, wakes! We were four: See ye anything of Mac now? _1st Shepherd._ We were up ere thou. _2nd Shepherd._ Man, I give God a vow, Yet heed he nowhere. _3rd Shepherd._ Methought he was wrapped in a wolf's-skin. _1st Shepherd._ So are many happed, now namely within. _2nd Shepherd._ When we had long napped; methought with a gin A fat sheep he trapped, but he made no din. _3rd Shepherd._ Be still: Thy dream makes thee wood:[139] It is but phantom, by the rood. _1st Shepherd._ Now God turn all to good, If it be his will. _2nd Shepherd._ Rise, Mac, for shame! thou ly'st right long. _Mac._ Now Christ, his holy name be us amang, What is this? for Saint James!--I may not well gang. I trust I be the same. Ah! my neck has lain wrang Enough Mickle thank, since yester-even Now, by Saint Stephen! I was flayed with a sweven,--[140] My heart out of slough.[141] I thought Gill began to croak, and travail full sad, Well nigh at the first cock,--of a young lad, For to mend our flock: then be I never glad. To have two on my rock,--more than ever I had. Ah, my head! A house full of young tharmes,[142] The devil knock out their harnes![143] Woe is he has many bairns, And thereto little bread. I must go home, by your leave, to Gill as I thought. I pray you look my sleeve, that I steal nought: I am loth you to grieve, or from you take aught. _3rd Shepherd._ Go forth, ill might thou chefe,[144] now would I we sought, This morn, That we had all our store. _1st Shepherd._ But I will go before, Let us meet. _2nd Shepherd._ Whor?[145] _3rd Shepherd._ At the crooked thorn. _Mac (at his own door again)._ Undo this door! who is here? How long shall I stand? _Wife._ Who makes such a stir?--Now walk in the wenyand.[146] _Mac._ Ah, Gill, what cheer?--It is I, Mac, your husband. _His Wife._ Then may we be here,--the devil in a band, Sir Gile. Lo, he commys[147] with a lot, As he were holden in the throat. I may not sit, work or not A hand long while. _Mac._ Will ye hear what fare she makes--to get her a glose,[148] And do naught but lakes[149]--and close her toes.