[_Mary_] "O my Joseph, O Jacob's son,
165 Kinsman of David, the king renowned,
Dost thou plan to turn from thy plighted troth,
And leave my love?"
[_Joseph_] "Alas, full soon
I am oppressed with grief and deprived of honor.
I have borne for thee many bitter words,
170 Insulting slurs and sorrowful taunts,
Scathing abuses, and they scorn me now
In wrathful tones. My tears I shall pour
In sadness of soul. My sorrowful heart,
My grief full easily our God may heal,
175 And not leave me forlorn. Alas, young damsel,
Mary maiden!"
[_Mary_] "Why bemoanest thou
And bitterly weepest? No blame in thee,
Nor any fault have I ever found
For wicked works, and this word thou speakest
180 As if thou thyself with sinful deeds
And faults wert filled."
[_Joseph_] "Far too much grief
Thy conception has caused me to suffer in shame.
How can I bear their bitter taunts
Or ever make answer to my angry foes
185 Who wish me woe? 'Tis widely known
That I took from the glorious temple of God
A beautiful virgin of virtue unblemished,
The chastest of maidens, but a change has now come,
Though I know not the cause. Nothing avails me--
190 To speak or to be silent. If I say the truth,
Then the daughter of David shall die for her crime,
Struck down with stones; yet still it were harder
To conceal the sin; forsworn forever
I should live my life loathed by all people,
195 By men reviled." Then the maid revealed
The work of wonder, and these words she spoke:
"Truly I say, by the Son of the Creator
The Savior of souls, the Son of God,
I tell thee in truth that the time has not been
200 That the embrace of a mortal man I have known
On all the earth; but early in life
This grace was granted me, that Gabriel came,
The high angel of heaven, and hailed me in greeting,
In truthful speech: that the Spirit of heaven
With his light should illumine me, that life's Glory by me
205 Should be borne, the bright Son, the blessed Child of God,
Of the kingly Creator. I am become now his temple,
Unspoiled and spotless; the Spirit of comfort
Hath his dwelling in me. Endure now no longer
Sorrow and sadness, and say eternal thanks
210 To the mighty Son of the Maker, that his mother I have become,
Though a maid I remain, and in men's opinion
Thou art famed as his father, if fulfillment should come
Of the truth that the Prophets foretold of his coming."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
164. This passage is especially interesting in being one of the first
appearances of the dialogue form in old English. Some scholars have
gone so far as to think that we have here the germ from which English
drama comes, but there does not seem reason to believe that the scene
ever received any kind of dramatic representation.