St. Joseph is a poor craftsman, described from nature, using the language of craftsmen, having their manners, their ignorances, their aspirations. Few works in the whole range of mediæval literature contain better descriptions of the workman of that time than the Mysteries in which St. Joseph figures; some of his speeches ought to have a place in the collections of Political Songs. The Emperor Augustus has availed himself of the occasion afforded by the census to establish a new tax: "A! lorde," says the poor Joseph,
what doth this man nowe heare!
Poore mens weale is ever in were (doubt),
I wotte by this bolsters beare
That tribute I muste paye;
And for greate age and no power
I wan no good this seven yeaire;
Nowe comes the kinges messingere,
To gette all that he maye.
With this axe that I beare,
This perscer and this nagere,
A hamer all in feare,
I have wonnen my meate.
Castill, tower ne manere
Had I never in my power;
But as a simple carpentere
With these what I mighte gette.
Yf I have store nowe anye thing,
That I must paye unto the kinge.[812]
Only an ox is left him; he will go and sell it. It is easy to fancy that, in the century which saw the Statutes of Labourers and the rising of the peasants, such words found a ready echo in the audience.
As soon as men of the people appear on the scene, nearly always the dialogue becomes lively; real men and women stand and talk before us. Beside the workmen represented by St. Joseph, peasants appear, represented by the shepherds of Christmas night. They are true English shepherds; if they swear, somewhat before due time, by Christ, all surprise disappears when we hear them name the places where they live: Lancashire, the Clyde valley, Boughton near Chester, Norbury near Wakefield. Of all possible ales, Ely's is the one they prefer. They talk together of the weather, the time of the day, the mean salaries they get, the stray sheep they have been seeking; they eat their meals under the hedge, sing merry songs, exchange a few blows, in fact behave as true shepherds of real life. Quite at the end only, when the "Gloria" is heard, they will assume the sober attitude befitting Christmas Day.
In the Mysteries performed at Woodkirk, the visit to the new-born Child was preceded by a comedy worthy to be compared with the famous farce of "Pathelin," and which has nothing to do with Christmas.[813] It is night; the shepherds talk; the time for sleeping comes. One among them, Mak, has a bad repute, and is suspected of being a thief; they ask him to sleep in the midst of the others: "Com heder, betwene shalle thou lyg downe." But Mak rises during the night without being observed. How hard they sleep! he says, and he carries away a "fatt shepe," and takes it to his wife.
Wife. It were a fowlle blotte to be hanged for the case.
Mak. I have skapyd, Gelott, oft as hard as glase.
Wife. Bot so long goys the pott to the water, men says,
At last
Comys it home broken.
I remember it well, says Mak, but it is not a time for proverbs and talk; let us do for the best. The shepherds know Mak too well not to come straight to his house; and so they do. Moans are heard; the cause being, they learn, that Mak's wife has just given birth to a child. As the shepherds walk in, Mak meets them with a cheerful countenance, and welcomes them heartily:
Bot ar ye in this towne to-day?
Now how fare ye?
Ye have ryn in the myre, and ar weytt yit;
I shalle make you a fyre, if ye wille syt.
His offers are coldly received, and the visitors explain what has happened.
Nowe if you have suspowse, to Gille or to me,
Com and rype oure howse!