 | Satirical poems of the reformation |  |
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XII. The Regentis Tragedie ending with ane exhortatioun.
Iames, Earle of Murray, Regent of Renoun,
Now lyis deid and dulefullie put doun,
Murdreist but mercy, murnand for remeid,
Quha lost his lyfe in Lythquo with ane loun
(Giltles, God wait, betraist in to that toun,
Slane with ane schot, and saikles put to deid;)
Feit be our fais throw fellonie and feid;
Hangman to Hary, now Burrio to hir brother:
Weill may this murther manifest the tother!
Now lyis deid and dulefullie put doun,
Murdreist but mercy, murnand for remeid,
Quha lost his lyfe in Lythquo with ane loun
(Giltles, God wait, betraist in to that toun,
Slane with ane schot, and saikles put to deid;)
Feit be our fais throw fellonie and feid;
Hangman to Hary, now Burrio to hir brother:
Weill may this murther manifest the tother!
Quhat leid in lyfe wald nocht lament his lose?
Wais me to want him! is the commoun voce:
For sic ane Prince sall neuer pure man haif,
Tint be ane Tratour steilling vp ane close,
Possest in purpois, lyfe for lyfe to cose,
Bot na compair, ane Kings Sone to ane knaif.
Sen he is gone agane my will to graif,
Throw all this Realme I dar weill mak this ruse:
Rang nocht his maik sen buryit was the Bruse.
Wais me to want him! is the commoun voce:
For sic ane Prince sall neuer pure man haif,
Tint be ane Tratour steilling vp ane close,
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Bot na compair, ane Kings Sone to ane knaif.
Sen he is gone agane my will to graif,
Throw all this Realme I dar weill mak this ruse:
Rang nocht his maik sen buryit was the Bruse.
To keip gude reule he raid, and tuke na rest,
Baith South and North, and sumtyme eist & west,
All to decoir our commoun weill, ȝe knaw.
Be quhome, lat se, wes Pirats sa opprest?
Or ȝit the theiffis sa dantonit, dung, and drest?
Argyle and Huntlie hid thame baith for aw;
And, quhen he mycht, he myst nocht in the Law
Twyse on the day, and sleipit nocht in sleuth,
To se na buddis suld beir thame by the treuth.
Baith South and North, and sumtyme eist & west,
All to decoir our commoun weill, ȝe knaw.
Be quhome, lat se, wes Pirats sa opprest?
Or ȝit the theiffis sa dantonit, dung, and drest?
Argyle and Huntlie hid thame baith for aw;
And, quhen he mycht, he myst nocht in the Law
Twyse on the day, and sleipit nocht in sleuth,
To se na buddis suld beir thame by the treuth.
Of this foule fact suppois our fais be fane,
Ȝit efter Moysis Josua come agane
To gyde the pepill, geuand the gloir to God.
Suld thay succeid that hes him saikles slane?
Be war with that, I wald ȝe war not vane
To haif ȝour waik anis wirryit with the tod:
Think ȝe with ressoun thay suld reule the rod,
With double murther maid vs all ado,
And with our King wald play Cowsauly to?
Ȝit efter Moysis Josua come agane
To gyde the pepill, geuand the gloir to God.
Suld thay succeid that hes him saikles slane?
Be war with that, I wald ȝe war not vane
To haif ȝour waik anis wirryit with the tod:
Think ȝe with ressoun thay suld reule the rod,
With double murther maid vs all ado,
And with our King wald play Cowsauly to?
Pray, gif ȝe pleis, I warne ȝow ȝe haif neid
To keip our King fra cankrit Kedȝochis seid,
That daylie wayis Inuentis to put him doun;
His Grandschir slane at Lythquo gif I leid;
His gudschir thryse hes left this land in deid;
Hary at midnycht murdreist in this toun;
His Cousing last, and ȝit thay clame the Crown:
Blynd Jok may ges gif thir be godly deidis:
Brunt be ȝone Bischop in quhome this barret breidis!
To keip our King fra cankrit Kedȝochis seid,
That daylie wayis Inuentis to put him doun;
His Grandschir slane at Lythquo gif I leid;
His gudschir thryse hes left this land in deid;
Hary at midnycht murdreist in this toun;
His Cousing last, and ȝit thay clame the Crown:
Blynd Jok may ges gif thir be godly deidis:
Brunt be ȝone Bischop in quhome this barret breidis!
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Cut of that Papist, Prothogall of partis,
That with his lesingis all the laif peruertis;
Syne Joyne ȝour forces to the feildis but feir,
Because ȝe tak ȝour stoutnes all in startis.
To Hammiltoun in haist quhill ȝe haif hartis;
Deuyse sum way to pay ȝour men of weir,
Fra he be gane ȝe neid nocht gather geir:
Fecht weill and war yame and wyn the ryches yair,
And gif ȝe de, in deid ȝe neid na mair.
That with his lesingis all the laif peruertis;
Syne Joyne ȝour forces to the feildis but feir,
Because ȝe tak ȝour stoutnes all in startis.
To Hammiltoun in haist quhill ȝe haif hartis;
Deuyse sum way to pay ȝour men of weir,
Fra he be gane ȝe neid nocht gather geir:
Fecht weill and war yame and wyn the ryches yair,
And gif ȝe de, in deid ȝe neid na mair.
Curst be ȝe baith, bischop and Bothwell-hauch!
For this foule deid ȝour seid man rak ane sauch;
Gif ȝe twa want the widdie now thay wrang ȝow;
Lythquo, lament, ȝour burges may luke bauch,
In beir seid tyme ȝour burrow rudis ly fauch
Cause of this murther laitly maid amang ȝow;
Or, gif I trowit it helpit ocht to hang ȝow,
Sa suld ȝe die; and syne ȝour towne in fyre,
Sum part for sythment to asswage our Ire.
For this foule deid ȝour seid man rak ane sauch;
Gif ȝe twa want the widdie now thay wrang ȝow;
Lythquo, lament, ȝour burges may luke bauch,
In beir seid tyme ȝour burrow rudis ly fauch
Cause of this murther laitly maid amang ȝow;
Or, gif I trowit it helpit ocht to hang ȝow,
Sa suld ȝe die; and syne ȝour towne in fyre,
Sum part for sythment to asswage our Ire.
Ouer thir twa housis, for thair deids inding,
The hand of God dois ouer thair heidis hing
Thame to distroy; I dout not, in our dayis,
Hepburnis will wraik for wyrrying of the King.
Bot Hammiltounis! fy! this was ane foular thing.
Is this ȝour ferme Religioun? ȝais? ȝais?
Sic tyme sall cum, I trow, as Thomas sayis:
Hirdmen sall hunt ȝow vpthrow Garranis gyll,
Castand thair Patlis, and lat the pleuch stand still.
The hand of God dois ouer thair heidis hing
Thame to distroy; I dout not, in our dayis,
Hepburnis will wraik for wyrrying of the King.
Bot Hammiltounis! fy! this was ane foular thing.
Is this ȝour ferme Religioun? ȝais? ȝais?
Sic tyme sall cum, I trow, as Thomas sayis:
Hirdmen sall hunt ȝow vpthrow Garranis gyll,
Castand thair Patlis, and lat the pleuch stand still.
Apperandly thir plaigis ar powrit out
To wraik this warld, and wait ȝe quhair about?
Because we want na vice vnder the heuin;
Sen double murther markis to reule the rout,
With Niniueitis lat vs ga cry and schout,
For to retreit ȝone sentence Justly geuin:
Ȝit thow, gude Lord, that Judgis all thingis euin,
Seand the perrell that ouer the pepill standis,
Lat nocht thair blude be socht at saikles handis.
To wraik this warld, and wait ȝe quhair about?
Because we want na vice vnder the heuin;
Sen double murther markis to reule the rout,
With Niniueitis lat vs ga cry and schout,
For to retreit ȝone sentence Justly geuin:
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Seand the perrell that ouer the pepill standis,
Lat nocht thair blude be socht at saikles handis.
Now Lordis & Lairdis assemblit in this place,
Ouer lang we talk of Tragedeis, allace!
Away with cair, with confort now conclude;
As gude in paper as speik it in ȝour face:
Gif murtherars for geir get ony grace,
Ȝe will be schent: think on, I say, for gude;
Sen art and part ar gyltie of his blude,
Quhy suld ȝe feir or fauour thame for fleiching?
Ȝe hard ȝour self quhat Knox spak at the preiching.
Ouer lang we talk of Tragedeis, allace!
Away with cair, with confort now conclude;
As gude in paper as speik it in ȝour face:
Gif murtherars for geir get ony grace,
Ȝe will be schent: think on, I say, for gude;
Sen art and part ar gyltie of his blude,
Quhy suld ȝe feir or fauour thame for fleiching?
Ȝe hard ȝour self quhat Knox spak at the preiching.
First on the feildis mak schortly to, lat se,
We want bot ane, and quhat the war ar we,
Sen God wes pleist to pas him out of pyne?
All men on mold ar markit for to de,
With tyme and place appointit: sa wes he.
Lat nocht in cair ȝour curages declyne,
For want of ane I wald nocht all suld tyne.
Gar reid at Roxburgh quhen the King was slane,
And ȝit ane woman wan the hous agane.
We want bot ane, and quhat the war ar we,
Sen God wes pleist to pas him out of pyne?
All men on mold ar markit for to de,
With tyme and place appointit: sa wes he.
Lat nocht in cair ȝour curages declyne,
For want of ane I wald nocht all suld tyne.
Gar reid at Roxburgh quhen the King was slane,
And ȝit ane woman wan the hous agane.
Sen than be wemen douchtie deidis were done,
Barronis, be blyith, and hald ȝour hartis abone,
And lat vs heir quhairfoir ȝe hapnit hidder:
Thay ar na partie and ȝe speid ȝow sone.
Albeit that Boyd be daylie in Denone,
Lang or Argyle be gadderit in togidder.
Quhen all is done, the counsall may considder
Quhat is the maist ȝone murtheraris may do,
Suppois that Huntlie wald cum help thame to.
Barronis, be blyith, and hald ȝour hartis abone,
And lat vs heir quhairfoir ȝe hapnit hidder:
Thay ar na partie and ȝe speid ȝow sone.
Albeit that Boyd be daylie in Denone,
Lang or Argyle be gadderit in togidder.
Quhen all is done, the counsall may considder
Quhat is the maist ȝone murtheraris may do,
Suppois that Huntlie wald cum help thame to.
Had we ane heid wald stoutly vndertak it,
The Barronis sayis thay suld be bauldly bakit,
Mycht thay for tyritnes trauell of thir tounis:
Quhy stand ȝe aw of Tratouris twyse detractit?
Think ȝe not schame to heir ȝour Lordschipis lakit?
Sū feiris yair flesche, sum grenis to gadder crounis,
Sū happis yair heidis, sū beltis yame vp in gounis.
Luke gif ȝour partie prydis yame in thair spurring,
Keipand the feildis, and fryis not in thair furring.
The Barronis sayis thay suld be bauldly bakit,
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Quhy stand ȝe aw of Tratouris twyse detractit?
Think ȝe not schame to heir ȝour Lordschipis lakit?
Sū feiris yair flesche, sum grenis to gadder crounis,
Sū happis yair heidis, sū beltis yame vp in gounis.
Luke gif ȝour partie prydis yame in thair spurring,
Keipand the feildis, and fryis not in thair furring.
Wa worth the wyfis that fostred ȝow and fed!
Ȝe dow not ly vnles ȝe haif ane bed;
Keip ȝow fra cauld, haif claith within ȝour scho:
I think greit ferly how ȝe can be red,
Or fray at thame that last befoir ȝow fled
Wantand thair Quene, syne God agane thame to.
Quhy ly ȝe heir with lytill thing ado?
The Barronis biddis ȝow schortly byde or gang:
Curage decayis fra Scottis men tarie lang.
Ȝe dow not ly vnles ȝe haif ane bed;
Keip ȝow fra cauld, haif claith within ȝour scho:
I think greit ferly how ȝe can be red,
Or fray at thame that last befoir ȝow fled
Wantand thair Quene, syne God agane thame to.
Quhy ly ȝe heir with lytill thing ado?
The Barronis biddis ȝow schortly byde or gang:
Curage decayis fra Scottis men tarie lang.
Haue Lyounis lukis, and than mak me ane lear;
Be Hanniballis, and heis ȝour hartis sum hear;
Bot keip not Capua quhil ȝone Knaifis incluse ȝow:
He neidis not work that hes ane gude ouersear.
Nane neid ȝe fetch, swa that ȝour hairtis war frear,
Bot, be my saule, my self culd neuer ruse ȝow:
I knaw weill for this cryme Christ sall accuse ȝow;
For spairing Agag Saull was puneist sair,
Swa sall he ȝow, I dar nocht say na mair.
Be Hanniballis, and heis ȝour hartis sum hear;
Bot keip not Capua quhil ȝone Knaifis incluse ȝow:
He neidis not work that hes ane gude ouersear.
Nane neid ȝe fetch, swa that ȝour hairtis war frear,
Bot, be my saule, my self culd neuer ruse ȝow:
I knaw weill for this cryme Christ sall accuse ȝow;
For spairing Agag Saull was puneist sair,
Swa sall he ȝow, I dar nocht say na mair.
The Lord of Hostes that heuin' & eirth cōmandis,
To keip our King from all vnhappy handis,
The Quene of Ingland and her Counsall to.
Ȝe feir the Frenchemen suld ouerlay thir landis,
Bot I heir say be sum that vnderstandis,
The Doctouris doutis bot thay haif mair ado:
Our Quene is keipit straitly, thair standis scho:
Ingland will help ȝow and ȝe help ȝour sellis,
And, be the contrair, craif thame nathing ellis.
To keip our King from all vnhappy handis,
The Quene of Ingland and her Counsall to.
Ȝe feir the Frenchemen suld ouerlay thir landis,
Bot I heir say be sum that vnderstandis,
The Doctouris doutis bot thay haif mair ado:
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Ingland will help ȝow and ȝe help ȝour sellis,
And, be the contrair, craif thame nathing ellis.
This fair ȝe weill: I flait not to offend ȝow
In sempill veirs, this Schedull that I send ȝow;
Beseikand ȝow to schort it gif ȝe may.
Steill ȝe away, the wyfis will vilipend ȝow,
And, gif ȝe byde, the burrowis will cōmend ȝow.
Best wer, I think, mycht we preuene ȝone day.
Thair Semblie beis on Sonday, I heir say,
In Glasgow towne, thinkand to fecht or fle:
It lukis weill, thair, ȝe get na mair of me.
In sempill veirs, this Schedull that I send ȝow;
Beseikand ȝow to schort it gif ȝe may.
Steill ȝe away, the wyfis will vilipend ȝow,
And, gif ȝe byde, the burrowis will cōmend ȝow.
Best wer, I think, mycht we preuene ȝone day.
Thair Semblie beis on Sonday, I heir say,
In Glasgow towne, thinkand to fecht or fle:
It lukis weill, thair, ȝe get na mair of me.
Finis.
The Tragedeis Lenuoy.
As men recordis, in deid, my Lordis,
I schrink not for to schaw;
Suppois ȝe crak, ȝe ly abak,
And lybellis be the Law.
Ȝe mak not to, as men suld do,
I trow ȝe stand sum aw:
Suppois ȝe hecht, to se ȝow fecht
That day will neuer daw.
I schrink not for to schaw;
Suppois ȝe crak, ȝe ly abak,
And lybellis be the Law.
Ȝe mak not to, as men suld do,
I trow ȝe stand sum aw:
Suppois ȝe hecht, to se ȝow fecht
That day will neuer daw.
Is na remeid, fra he be deid;
Na man to seik ane mendis?
Or quha is heir dar brek ane speir
Vpon ȝone lymmeris lendis?
Ȝe dar not mum quhill Saidlar cum
To se quhat Ingland sendis;
Thinkand to sayit, and ay delayit,
And swa the mater endis.
Na man to seik ane mendis?
Or quha is heir dar brek ane speir
Vpon ȝone lymmeris lendis?
Ȝe dar not mum quhill Saidlar cum
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Thinkand to sayit, and ay delayit,
And swa the mater endis.
With sychis, and sobbis, and beltit robbis,
Ȝe counterfite the dule:
Quhat douchtie deidis to weir sic wedis,
Except it wer ane fule!
Mak of the towne, and cow thame downe,
Now or ȝour curage cule:
For Maddie sayis, byde ȝe aucht dayis,
Ȝe be not thair quhill Ȝule.
Ȝe counterfite the dule:
Quhat douchtie deidis to weir sic wedis,
Except it wer ane fule!
Mak of the towne, and cow thame downe,
Now or ȝour curage cule:
For Maddie sayis, byde ȝe aucht dayis,
Ȝe be not thair quhill Ȝule.
Is this the thing? quha gydis the King?
Ȝe can not all aggre:
Now fy for schame! feche Leuenox hame,
Ȝe haif nane narer nor he.
Gif he want grace to gyde that place,
Cheis outher twa or thre:
Than war I fane, bot all in vane,
To wis and will nocht be.
Ȝe can not all aggre:
Now fy for schame! feche Leuenox hame,
Ȝe haif nane narer nor he.
Gif he want grace to gyde that place,
Cheis outher twa or thre:
Than war I fane, bot all in vane,
To wis and will nocht be.
And sum thair bene waittis on the Quene,
Bot gaip ay quhill thay get hir:
And war scho heir, I tak na feir,
The Feynd aby we set hir.
For we ar now als stark, I trow,
As farnȝer quhen we met hir;
Quhen all is done thay start ouer sone
To boist and not the better.
Bot gaip ay quhill thay get hir:
And war scho heir, I tak na feir,
The Feynd aby we set hir.
For we ar now als stark, I trow,
As farnȝer quhen we met hir;
Quhen all is done thay start ouer sone
To boist and not the better.
I think it best ȝe tak na rest,
Gif ȝe durst vnder tak it;
And we be trew, we ar anew,
Ȝe salbe bauldly bakit.
Bot sen I se it will nocht be
That meter will nocht mak it,
The Feynd mak cair, I say na mair:
I rew that euer I spak it.
Gif ȝe durst vnder tak it;
And we be trew, we ar anew,
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Bot sen I se it will nocht be
That meter will nocht mak it,
The Feynd mak cair, I say na mair:
I rew that euer I spak it.
Finis.
| Satirical poems of the reformation | |