Finally he subsides helplessly upon a "lond" or furrow, till the angel appears and thrusts the birds into his hands. No mention is made to Mary of the miraculous interposition when Joseph has hurried home, pluming himself upon the capture. "I am full glade I haue them fond. Am nott I a good husbonde?" says the saint with glee. It is a delicious scene, and its writer was a comedian of no mean order. Herod was the popular favourite of the Christmas play cycle, for the predecessors of Shakespeare's groundlings loved to have their ears split by his noisy arrogance. He "ragis in the pagond and in the strete also," according to a stage direction, and it is possible that his buffoonery was tinged with the memory of the wild frolic of the ancient Christmas festivals, the feast of the Ass and the feast of Fools.[693] "It out-herods Herod," says Shakespeare, the professional player, in scorn of the amateur of the old régime. But the rant Herod utters is gorgeous rant. How the children shuddered when he wielded his "bright brond" or terrible sword, and how his great voice rang out through the streets when he cried:-- "For I am evyn he thatt made bothe hevin and hell, And of my myghte power holdith up this world rownd. Magog and Madroke, bothe them did I confounde." What megalomania! "Magog and Madroke," are undeniably fearsome names and suit well with Herod's vizor, his falchion and towering crest. "I am the cawse," he cries out,-- "I am the cawse of this grett lyght and thunder; Ytt ys throgh my fure that the[694] soche noyse dothe make. My feyrefull contenance the clowdis so doth incumbur That oftymis for drede therof the verre yerth doth quake. Loke, when I with males this bryght brond doth schake, All the whole world from the north to the sowthe I ma them dystroie with won worde of my mowthe! * * * * * Behold my contenance and my colur, Bryghtur then the sun in the meddis of the dey. Where can you haue a more grettur succur Then to behold my person that ys soo gaye? My fawcun and my fassion, with my gorgis araye,-- He thatt had the grace all-wey ther-on to thynke, Lyve the[694] myght all-wey with-owt othur meyte or drynke."[695]