“I am true as steel,” says Mak.  “All men wot it.  But a sickness I feel that holds me full hot,” and so, he says, he is obliged to walk about at night for coolness.

The shepherds are all very weary and want to sleep.  But just to make things quite safe, they bid Mak lie down between them so that he cannot move without awaking them.  Mak lies down as he is bid, but he does not sleep, and as soon as the others are all snoring he softly rises and “borrows” a sheep.

Quickly he goes home with it and knocks at his cottage door.  “How, Gill, art thou in?  Get us a light.”

“Who makes such din this time of night?” answers his wife from within.

When she hears that it is Mak she unbars the door, but when she sees what her husband brings she is afraid.

“By the naked neck thou art like to hang,” she says.

“I have often escaped before,” replies Mak.

“But so long goes the pot to the water, men say, at last comes it home broken,” cries Gill.

But the question is, now that they have the sheep, how is it to be his from the shepherds.  For Mak feels sure that they will suspect him when they find out that a sheep is missing.

Gill has a plan.  She will swaddle the sheep like a new-born baby and lay it in the cradle.  This being done, Mak returns to the shepherds, whom he finds still sleeping, and lies down again beside them.  Presently they all awake and rouse Mak, who still pretends to sleep.  He, after some talk, goes home, and the shepherds go off to seek and count their sheep, agreeing to meet again at the “crooked thorn.”

Soon the shepherds find that one sheep is missing, and suspecting Mak of having stolen it they follow him home.  They find him sitting by the cradle singing a lullaby to the new-born baby, while Gill lies in bed groaning and pretending to be very ill.  Mak greets the shepherds in a friendly way, but bids them speak softly and not walk about, as his wife is ill and the baby asleep.

But the shepherds will not be put off with words.  They search the house, but can find nothing.

“All work we in vain as well may we go. 
Bother it! 
I can find no flesh
Hard or nesh,*
Salt or fresh,
But two toom** platters.”

Soft.
*Empty.

Meanwhile, Gill from her bed cries out at them, calling them thieves.  “Ye come to rob us.  I swear if ever I you beguiled, that I eat this child that lies in this cradle.”

The shepherds at length begin to be sorry that they have been so unjust as to suspect Mak.  They wish to make friends again.  But Mak will not be friends.  “Farewell, all three, and glad I am to see you go,” he cries.

So the shepherds go a little sadly.  “Fair winds may there be, but love there is none this year,” says one.

“Gave ye the child anything?” says another.

“I trow not a farthing.”