This done, a wooden child in clouts is on the altar set, About the which both boys and girls do dance and trimly get, And carols sing in praise of Christ, and for to help them here, The organs answer every verse with sweet and solemn cheer. The priests do roar aloud, and round about the parents stand, To see the sport, and with their voice do help them and their hand. Thus wont the Coribants perhaps upon the mountain Ide, The crying noise of Jupiter, new born, with song to hide, To dance about him round, and on their brazen pans to beat, Lest that his father, finding him, should him destroy and eat.
Then followeth Saint Stephen's Day, whereon doth every man His horses jaunt and course abroad, as swiftly as he can. Until they do extremely sweat, and then they let them blood, For this being done upon this day, they say doth do them good, And keeps them from all maladies and sickness through the year, As if that Stephen any time took charge of horses here. Next, John, the son of Zebedee, hath his appointed day, Who once, by cruel tyrant's will, constrained was, they say, Strong poison up to drink, therefore the Papists do believe That whoso puts their trust in him, no poison them can grieve. The wine beside that hallowed is, in worship of his name, The priests do give the people that bring money for the same. And after with the selfsame wine are little manchets[F] made, Against the boisterous winter storms, and sundry such like trade. The men upon this solemn day do take this holy wine, To make them strong, so do the maids to make them fair and fine.
Then comes the day that calls to mind the cruel Herod's strife, Who seeking Christ to kill, the King of everlasting life, Destroyèd all the infants young, a beast unmerciless, And put to death all such as were of two years age or less. To them the sinful wretches cry and earnestly do pray To get them pardon for their faults, and wipe their sins away. The parents, when this day appears, do beat their children all Though nothing they deserve, and servants all to beating fall, And monks do whip each other well, or else their Prior great, Or Abbot mad, doth take in hand their breeches all to beat In worship of these Innocents, or rather, as we see, In honor of the curséd king that did this cruelty.
