Joseph.  My saddle-girths have given way
With trudging through the heat to-day
To you I think it is but play
  To ride and hold the boy.

  Mary.  Hark! how the robins shout and sing,
As if to hail their infant King! 
I will alight at yonder spring
  To wash his little coat.

  Joseph.  And I will hobble well the ass,
Lest, being loose upon the grass,
He should escape; for, by the mass. 
  He is nimble as a goat.

          (Here MARY shall alight and go to the spring.)

  Mary.  O Joseph!  I am much afraid,
For men are sleeping in the shade;
I fear that we shall be waylaid,
  And robbed and beaten sore!

          (Here a band of robbers shall be seen sleeping, two of
                whom shall rise and come forward.)

  Dumachus.  Cock’s soul! deliver up your gold!

Joseph.  I pray you, Sirs, let go your hold!  Of wealth I have no store.

  Dumachus.  Give up your money!

Titus.  Prithee cease!  Let these good people go in peace!

Dumachus.  First let them pay for their release, And then go on their way.

Titus.  These forty groats I give in fee, If thou wilt only silent be.

Mary.  May God be merciful to thee Upon the Judgment Day!

  Jesus.  When thirty years shall have gone by,
I at Jerusalem shall die, By Jewish hands exalted high
  On the accursed tree. 
Then on my right and my left side,
These thieves shall both be crucified
And Titus thenceforth shall abide
  In paradise with me.

  (Here a great rumor of trumpets and horses, like the
  noise of a king with his army, and the robbers shall
  take flight.)

VI.  THE SLAUGHTER OF THE INNOCENTS.

King Herod. Potz-tausend!  Himmel-sacrament! 
Filled am I with great wonderment
At this unwelcome news! 
Am I not Herod?  Who shall dare
My crown to take, my sceptre bear,
As king among the Jews?

         (Here he shall stride up and down and flourish his sword.)

What ho!  I fain would drink a can
Of the strong wine of Canaan! 
  The wine of Helbon bring,
I purchased at the Fair of Tyre,
As red as blood, as hot as fire,
  And fit for any king!

(He quaffs great goblets of wine.)

Now at the window will I stand,
While in the street the armed band
  The little children slay: 
The babe just born in Bethlehem
Will surely slaughtered be with them,
  Nor live another day!

       (Here a voice of lamentation shall be heard in the street.)

  Rachel. O wicked king!  O cruel speed! 
To do this most unrighteous deed! 
  My children all are slain!