Now Christ, his holy name be us amang,
What is this? for Saint James!--I may not well gang.
I trust I be the same. Ah! my neck has lain wrang
Enough
Mickle thank, since yester-even
Now, by Saint Stephen!
I was flayed with a sweven,--[140]
My heart out of slough.[141]
I thought Gill began to croak, and travail full sad,
Well nigh at the first cock,--of a young lad,
For to mend our flock: then be I never glad.
To have two on my rock,--more than ever I had.
Ah, my head!
A house full of young tharmes,[142]
The devil knock out their harnes![143]
Woe is he has many bairns,
And thereto little bread.
I must go home, by your leave, to Gill as I thought.
I pray you look my sleeve, that I steal nought:
I am loth you to grieve, or from you take aught.

_3rd Shepherd._ Go forth, ill might thou chefe,[144] now would I we sought,
This morn,
That we had all our store.

_1st Shepherd._ But I will go before,
Let us meet.

_2nd Shepherd._ Whor?[145]

_3rd Shepherd._ At the crooked thorn.

_Mac (at his own door again)._ Undo this door! who is here? How long shall
I stand?

_Wife._ Who makes such a stir?--Now walk in the wenyand.[146]

_Mac._ Ah, Gill, what cheer?--It is I, Mac, your husband.

_His Wife._ Then may we be here,--the devil in a band,
Sir Gile.
Lo, he commys[147] with a lot,
As he were holden in the throat.
I may not sit, work or not
A hand long while.

_Mac._ Will ye hear what fare she makes--to get her a glose,[148]
And do naught but lakes[149]--and close her toes.

_Wife._ Why, who wanders, who wakes,--who comes, who goes?
Who brews, who bakes? Who makes for me this hose?
And then
It is ruth to behold,
Now in hot, now in cold,
Full woful is the household
That wants a woman.
But what end hast thou made with the herds, Mac?

_Mac._ The last word that they said,--when I turned my back,
They would look that they had--their sheep all the pack.
I hope they will not be well paid,--when they their sheep lack.
Perdie!
But howso the game goes,
To me they will suppose,
And make a foul noise,
And cry out upon me.
But thou must do as thou hight,

_Wife._ I accord me thertylle.[150]
I shall swaddle him right in my cradle.
If it were a greater slight, yet could I help till.
I will lie down straight. Come hap me.

_Mac._ I will.

_Wife._ Behind,
Come Coll and his marrow,
They will nip us full narrow.

_Mac._