Mine host of the inn was stern.
"I told you already, old man, that there's no place for the like of you in my house.

Take your little daughter somewhere else." "She's not my daughter, sir, but my true wife, trusted to me by God that I may protect her," returned Joseph, and he lifted up his carpenter's hand.
The door was slammed in their faces.
A fruit-seller, who had witnessed the scene, stretched forth his brown neck and asked for their passport.
"If you show me your papers and three pieces of silver, I'll take you in for the love of God.

For we are all wanderers on the earth." "We've no passport.

We've come from Nazareth in Galilee for the enrolment, because I am of the house of David," replied Joseph.
"Of the house of David! Why, you don't seem to know whether you're on your head or your heels," and with a laugh the fruit-seller went his way.
"It is true," thought Joseph, "noble ancestors are useless to a man of no importance." For the future he would let David alone.
Mary now advised him to go outside the town again.

Perhaps the very poor or entire strangers would have pity on them.