“Primus Pastor.
Hail, comly and clene,
Hail, yong child!
Hail, maker, as I meene,
Of a maden so milde!
Thou has warëd,[62] I weene,
The warlo[63] so wilde;
The fals giler of teen,[64]
Now goes he begilde.
Lo! he merys,[65]
Lo! he laghës, my sweting.
A welfare meting!
I have holden my heting.[66]
Have a bob of cherys!
Secundus Pastor.
Hail, sufferan Savioure,
For thou has us soght!
Hail, frely[67] foyde[68] and floure,
That all thing has wroght![137]
Hail, full of favoure,
That made all of noght!
Hail, I kneel and I cowre.
A bird have I broght
To my barne.
Hail, litel tinë mop![69]
Of oure crede thou art crop;[70]
I wold drink on thy cop,
Litel day starne.
Tertius Pastor.
Hail, derling dere,
Full of godhede!
I pray thee be nere
When that I have nede.
Hail! swete is thy chere;[71]
My hart woldë blede
To see thee sitt here
In so poorë wede,
With no pennys.
Hail! Put forth thy dall![72]
I bring thee bot a ball;
Have and play thee with all,
And go to the tenis!”[{17}]
The charm of this will be felt by every reader; it lies in a curious incongruity—extreme homeliness joined to awe; the Infinite is contained within the narrowest human bounds; God Himself, the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, a weak, helpless child. But a step more, and all would have been irreverence; as it is we have devotion, human, naïve, and touching.
It would be interesting to show how other scenes connected with Christmas are handled in the English miracle-plays: how Octavian (Caesar Augustus) sent out the decree that all the world should be taxed, and learned from the Sibyl the birth of Christ; how the Magi were led by the star and offered their symbolic gifts; how the raging of the boastful tyrant Herod, the [138]Slaughter of the Innocents, and the Flight into Egypt are treated; but these scenes, though full of colour, are on the whole less remarkable than the shepherd and Nativity pieces, and space forbids us to dwell upon them. They contain many curious anachronisms, as when Herod invokes Mahounde, and talks about his princes, prelates, barons, baronets and burgesses.[73]
The religious play in England did not long survive the Reformation. Under the influence of Protestantism, with its vigilant dread of profanity and superstition, the cycles were shorn of many of their scenes, the performances became irregular, and by the end of the sixteenth century they had mostly ceased to be. Not sacred story, but the play of human character, was henceforth the material of the drama. The rich, variegated religion of the people, communal in its expression, tinged everywhere with human colour, gave place to a sterner, colder, more individual faith, fearful of contamination by the use of the outward and visible.
There is little or no trace in the vernacular Christmas plays of direct translation from one language into another, though there was some borrowing of motives. Thus the Christmas drama of each nation has its own special flavour.