_Joseph._ A! A! wyff, in feyth I am wery, Therfore I wole sytt downe and rest me ryght here. Lo! wyff, here is the house of ȝakary, Wole ȝe I clepe Elyȝabeth to ȝow to apere. _Maria._ Nay, husbond, and it plese ȝow I xal go ner, Now the blyssyd Trynité be in this hous! A! cosyn Eliȝabeth, swete modyr, what cher? ȝe grow grett, a! my God! how ȝe be gracyous. _Eliȝabethe._ Anon as I herd of ȝow this holy gretynge, Mekest mayden and the modyr of God, Mary, Be ȝour breth the Holy Gost us was inspyrynge, That the childe in my body enjoyd gretly, And turnyd downe on his knes to oure God reverently, Whom ȝe bere in your body this veryly I ken, ffulfyllyd with the Holy Gost thus lowde I cry, Blyssyd be thou amonge alle women. And blyssyd be the frute of thi wombe also, Thou wurthyest virgyne and wyff that ever was wrought! How is it that the modyr of God me xulde come to? That wrecche of alle wrecchis, a whyght wers than nought! And thou art blyssyd, that belevyd veryly in thi thought, That the wurde of God xulde profyte in the, But how this blyssydnes abought was brought, I cannot thynk nyn say how it myght be. _Maria._ To the preysyng of God, cosyn, this seyd mut be, Whan I sat in my lytyl hous onto God praynge, Gabryel come and seyde to me, Ave! Ther I conceyved God at my consentynge, Parfyte God and parfyte man at onys beynge; Than the aungel seyd onto me, That it was sex monethys syn ȝour conseyvynge, This cawsyth my comynge, cosyn, ȝow to comfort and se. _Eliȝabeth._ Blyssyd be ȝe, cosyn, ffor ȝour hedyr comynge, How I conseyvyd I xal to ȝow say; The aungel apperyd the howre of incensynge, Seynge I xulde conseyve, and hym thought nay. Sethe ffor his mystrost he hath be dowme alway, And thus of my concepcion I have ȝow sum. _Maria._ ffor this holy psalme I begynne here this day, Magnificat anima mea Dominum, Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo. _Eliȝabeth._ Be the Holy Gost with joye Goddys son is in the cum, That thi spyryte so injonyid the helth of thi God so. _Maria._ Quia respexit humilitatem ancillæ suæ, Ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes. _Eliȝabeth._ ffor he beheld the lownes of hese hand maydeȝe, So ferforthe ffor that alle generacionys blysse ȝow in pes. _Maria._ Quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est, Et sanctum nomen ejus. _Eliȝabeth._ ffor grett thynges he made and also myghtyest, And ryght holy is the name of hym in us. _Maria._ Et misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies, Timentibus eum. _Eliȝabeth._ ȝa, the mercy of hym fro that kynde into the kynde of pes, ffor alle that hym drede now is he cum. _Maria._ Fecit potenciam in brachio suo, Disspersit superbos mente cordis sui. _Eliȝabeth._ The pore in his ryght arme he hath mad so, The prowde to dyspeyre and the thought of here hertys only. _Maria._ Deposuit potentes de sede,