ould sleep if I taked less to my hire.

_3rd Shepherd._ I am cold and naked, and would have a fire.

_1st Shepherd._ I am weary for-raked,[125] and run in the mire.
Wake thou!

_2nd Shepherd._ Nay, I will lie down-by,
For I must sleep truly.

_3rd Shepherd._ As good a man's son was I
As any of you.
But, Mac, come hither, between us shalt thou lie.

_Mac._ Then might I stay you bedene[126]: of that ye would say,--
No dread.
From my head to my toe
_Mantis tuas commendo,
Pontio Pilato._[127]
Christ's cross me speed,

[_He rises, the shepherds sleeping, and says:_

Now were time for a man, that lacks what he wold,
To stalk privately then into a fold,
And namely to work then, and be not too bold,
He might abide the bargain, if it were told
At the ending.
Now were time for to revel;
But he needs good counsel
That fain would fare well,
And has but little spending.

[_Mac works a spell on them._

But about you a circle, as round as a moon,
Till I have done that I will, till that it be noon,
That ye lie stone-still, till that I have done,
And I shall say there till of good words a foyn[128]
On height;
Over your heads my hand I lift,
Out go your eyes, fore to do your sight,
But yet I must make better shift,
And it be right.
What, Lord? they sleep hard! that may ye all hear;
Was I never a shepherd, but now will I leer[129]
If the flock be scared, yet shall I nap near,
Who draws hitherward, now mends our cheer,
From sorrow:
A fat sheep I dare say,
A good fleece dare I lay,
Eft white when I may,
But this will I borrow.

[_He steals a sheep and goes home._

_Mac_ (_at his own door_). How, Gill, art thou in? Get us some light.

_His Wife._ Who makes such din this time of night?
I am set for to spin: I hope not I might
Rise a penny to win: I shrew them on height.
So fares
A housewife that has been
To be raised thus between:
There may no note be seen
For such small chares.[130]

_Mac._ Good wife, open the hek.[131] See'st thou not what I bring?

_Wife._ I may let thee draw the sneck. Ah! come in, my sweeting.

_Mac._ Yea, thou dost not reck of my long standing.

_Wife._ By thy naked neck, thou art like for to hang.

_Mac._ Go away:
I am worthy of my meat,
For in a strait can I get
More than they that swinck[132] and sweat
All the long day,
Thus it fell to my lot, Gill, I had such grace.

_Wife._ It were a foul blot to be hanged for the ca