But nevyr the lesse no doute of we must forth to towne, Now neybores and kynnysmen lete us forth go: I xal take a wand in my hand and cast of my gowne, Yf I falle than, I xalle gronyn for wo. Ho so take away my staff, I say he were my fo, ȝe be men that may wele ren go ȝe before; I am old and also colde, walkyng doth me wo; Therfor now wole I to my staff holde I, this jurny to wore. _Episcopus._ Seres, ȝe xal undyrstande That this is the cawse of your comynge, And why that eche of ȝow bryngyth a wande, ffor of God we have knowynge. Here is to be maryde a mayde ȝynge, Alle ȝour roddys ȝe xal brynge up to me; And on hese rodde that the Holy Gost is syttynge, He xal the husband of this may be. _Hic portent virgas._ _Joseph._ It xal not be, I ley a grote, I xal abyde behynde prevyly; Now wolde God I were at hom in my cote, I am aschamyd to be seyn veryly. _Primus generacionis David._ To wurchep my lord God hedyr am I come, Here ffor to offyr my dewe offrynge, A fayr white ȝarde in hand have I nome, My lord, sere busshop, at ȝour byddynge. _Secundus generacionis David._ Off Davythis kynred sertes am I com, A ffayr white ȝarde in hand now I bryng; My lord the busshop, after ȝour owym dom, This ȝarde do I offre at ȝour chargyng, Ryht here. _Tercius generacionis David._ And I a ȝarde have bothe fayr and whyght, Here in myn hond it is redy dyght, And here I offre it forth within syght, Ryght in good manere. _Quartus generacionis David._ I am the fourte of Davidis kyn, And with myn offrynge my God I honoure; This fayr whyte ȝarde is offryng myn, I trost in God of sum socoure. Com on, Joseph, with offrynge thin, And brynge up thin, as we have oure, Thou taryst ryth longe behynde certeyn; Why comyst not forth to Goddys toure? Com on, man, for shame. _Joseph._ Com ȝa, ȝa, God help, fulle fayn I wolde, But I am so agyd and so olde, That bothe myn leggys gyn to folde, I am ny almost lame. _Episcopus._ A! mercy Lord, I kan no sygne aspy, It is best we go ageyn to prayr. _Vox._ He brought not up his rodde ȝet trewly, To whom the mayd howyth to be maryed her. _Episcopus._ Whath, Joseph, why stande ȝe there byhynde? I-wys, sere, ȝe be to blame. _Joseph._ Sere, I kannot my rodde ffynde; To come ther in trowthe me thynkyht shame. _Episcopus comyth, thens Joseph_,