hat God wold nat
suffre hymselffe to be deludyd of suche a fasshion.
_Mene._ Yis, haue nat you sene that wha bothe the
mother, the sone, the father, and the holy ghoste hathe
be robbyd of thes sacrilegyous theues, that thay
woldnat ones moue, or styre nother with bekke or crakke
wherby thay myght fray away the theues. So great is the
gentles of God. _Ogy._ So it is, but here out me tale.
This mylke is kepyd apon the hye aultre, and in the
myddys ther is Christe, with his mother apon hys ryght
hand, for her honor sake, the mylke dothe represente
the mother. _Me._ It may be sene than? _Ogy._ It is
closyd in crystalle. _Me._ It is moyste tha? _Ogy._
What tell you me of moystenes, wha it was mylkyd more
than a thowsand and fyue hunthrithe yere agone, it is
so congelyd, that a ma wold || saye that it were chalke
temperyd with the whyte of a egge. _Me._ Ye, but do
thay sette it forthe bare? _Ogy._ No, lest so holy
mylke shuld be defowlyd with the kyssynge of men. _Me._
You say well. For I suppose that ther be many that
kysse it, whiche be nother clene mouthyd, nor yet be
pure virgynes. _Ogy._ Whan ye sexten sawe vs, he dyd
runne to the aultre, & put apon hym his surplese, & his
stole about his nekke, knelyd downe relygyously, and
worshipyd it, and streghtforthe dyd offre the mylke to
vs to kysse. And at the ende of the aultre we knelyd
downe deuoutly, & the fyrste of all we salutyd Christe,
& than after we callyd apon our lady with thys prayer,
whiche we had mayd redy for the same purpose. O mother
& mayde, whiche dyd gyue sukke with thy virgynes teates
the lorde of heuen and yerthe, thy sone Iesus Christe,
we beynge puryfyed || thorowe hys precyous blode, do
desyre that we may attayne, and come to that blessyd
infancye of thy colombynes meknes, whiche is immaculate
without malice, frawde, or diseyte, and with all
affectyon of harte dothe couett and stody for the
heuenly mylke of the euangelicall doctryne, to go
forthe and encrease with it into a perfaycte man, into
the mesure of the plentefulnes of Christe, of whose
copany thou haste the fruycyon, togyther with the
father, & the holy ghost for euermore, so be it. _Me._
Uerely thys is a holy prayer. But what dyd she?
_Ogygy._ Thay bothe bekkyd at vs, excepte my eyes
waggyd, and me thoght that the mylke daunsyd. In the
meanseson the sexten came to vs, withowt any wordes,
but he held out a table suche as the Germanes vse to
gather tolle apon bridges. _Me._ By my trothe