_Joseph._ An aungel! allas, alas! fy for schame! ȝe syn now in that ȝe to say, To puttyn an aungel in so gret blame. Alas! alas! let be, do way. It was sum boy began this game, That clothyd was clene and gay; And ȝe ȝeve hym now an aungele name,— Alas! alas and welaway! That evyr this game betydde. A! dame, what thought haddyst thou? Here may alle men this proverbe trow, That many a man doth bete the bow, Another man hath the brydde. _Maria._ A! gracyous God, in hefne trone, Comforte my spowse in this hard cas; Mercyful God amend his mone, As I dede nevyr to gret trespas. _Joseph._ Lo! lo! seres, what told I ȝow, That it was not for my prow, A wyff to take me to; An that is wel sene now, ffor Mary I make god avow, Is grett with childe, lo! Alas! why is it so? To the busshop I wole it telle, That he the lawe may here do, With stonys here to qwelle. Nay! nay! ȝet God fforbede, That I xuld do that vegeabyl dede, But if I wyst wel qwy. I knew never with here, so God me spede, Tokyn of thynge in word nor dede That towchyd velany. Nevyr-the-les what for-thy, Thow she be meke and mylde, Withowith mannys company She myght not be with childe. But I ensure myn was it nevyr; Thow that she hath not done here devyr. Rather than I xuld pleynyn opynly, Serteynly ȝitt had I levyr fforsake the countré ffor evyr, And nevyr come in here company. ffor and men knew this velany, In repreff thei wolde me holde, And ȝett many bettyr than I, ȝa, hath ben made cokolde. Now, alas! whedyr xal I gonne? I wot nevyr whedyr nor to what place; ffor oftyn tyme sorwe comyth sone, And lenge it is or it pace,— No comforte may I have here. I wys wyff thou dedyst me wronge; Alas! I traryed from the to longe, Alle men have pety on me amonge, ffor to my sorwe is no chere.