 | To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox |  |
TO THE RICHT HIGH, LODVVIK DVKE OF LENOX, Earl Darnlie, Lord Tarbolton, Methwen and Aubigne, &c. gret Chamberlaine of Scotland, Iohn Bvrel, wisheth lang life, with happy succes in all your attempts, and efter daith, the ioyes euerlasting.
I will craue pardon of zour excellence,Incace ze suld esteme this for offence:
Into directing of this Treticie,
Not coresponding to Zour prudencie:
Quhois gud ingyne, & pregnant spretit wit,
Crauis hier warks, with arguments mair grit:
Delyting ancient Histories to heir,
Els of euents and stratagyms of weir:
Zour Hienes Zit, I hope, sall not refuse,
This Pamphilet, a litill to peruse:
Quhilk is composd and maid especiallie,
At sumtime, till expell malancolie:
And not composd, vpon pretencis ill,
To foster folks, into thair fleshly will:
This is not for to nurish turpitud,
Bot rather folks from sick things to seclud:
For to repeit this taill, quhat neid is me,
Sen weill zour wisedome can the mater we:
And promptly all the mater comprehend,
To quhat effect and sens the same dois tend:
Quhairin Zour honour plainly may persaue,
The gud report, quhilk honest lufers haue:
The gret reproch also ze may espy,
Of sick as in licencious lust dois ly:
With syndrie ma things addit be my braine,
To mak this wark, mair plesant prompt & plaine
And with the mater, weill aneuch may stand:
Crauing maist humblie of zour clemencie,
For to remit this my audacitie:
Into presenting sick a wark prophane,
Quhilk to the godly, will seeme sumpart vane:
Bot I beleue, na persoun sall present,
For to misconster, this my trew intent.
And speciallie Zour Honour, quhome I craue,
Maist willingly, this wark for to resaue:
Quhilk to Zour potencie, I haue propynd,
In signe and takin of my willing mynd.
And for the lufe, I to Zour honor bure,
And not by ressoun of my litrature.
Presenting it, with hart precordiall,
Vnto zour selcitude in speciall.
Quhois nobill persoun, will take in gud pairt,
The trew affection, of ane faithfull hairt.
Into this Regioun rings zour gret commend,
Becaus, that students dewly ze defend.
Menteining sick intill all touns and shiers,
As to the art of Poëtrie espiers.
Sen in zour persoun, sick gifts we persaue,
Mecaenas name, ze iustly may resaue.
And sen ze are, the onely sonne and hair,
Sprung from the synders, of that Phœnix rair.
Quhois gud report, maks his renoun reaciue,
Into this land, perpetually to leiue.
In seruing God, and syne zour soueraine King,
Into this land, zour name lat lykwais ring.
Your Hienes maist humble to be commandit. Iohn Bvrel.
THE PREFACE.
It come not only of my awin consait,In Inglish toung, this story to translait.
Nor zit it was my selfe that did deuyse,
For till attempt so peirt an enterpyse.
Lat him that bad me, beir the haill rebuke,
And me excuse, the enterpryse that tuke.
Requeistit be ane Scollar as I say,
I wes eschamed, his sute to dissobay.
Not for na lairning quhilk he saw in me,
Bot done expres, to proue my poetrie:
Quhairin I grant, in coulers and degreis,
Ar mone faults and gret absurdities.
Howbeid so be my author hes na blame,
Bot it is I, that dois resaue the schame.
Yet haue I done, the thing that lyis in me,
To keipe the coulour of his propertie.
I can not tell, how thay the authour call,
Quho of this buk, wes first originall.
Na dout, bot it hes bene composd by Clarks,
Els recollectit out of Ovids warks.
Mone thair be that dois this mening moue,
Becaus this laureat Poet, wryts of loue.
Quha euer it be, that hes the author bene,
He hes na schame, the wark may weil be sene.
Sumtyme it is als necessair as meit,
To haue consaits to recreat the spreit.
The Poet heir implois his hail pretence,
To myrrie mowis, not tending to small sence.
Quhairin thou planely, may persaue and see,
As in ane specular before thine eie.
Quhat skaith acurs ill company to hant,
As Galathea dois confes and grant.
Cursing the day of hir natiuitie,
That sche had hantit in sic companie.
Namely of Anvs, quho did her bechok,
And brocht her blindlings, on this schameful blok.
As efterward intill effect sche fand,
Quhilk till all maids, may for example stand.
And to thair counsall not to len thair eir.
Be Pamphilvs, he likwais dois present,
The crukit cours, and fleschly full intent.
And heir be Venvs, is demonstrat to,
The fleschlie cours, quhilk nature bids vs do.
Thairfore tak tent this mater to remeid,
The peth of lufe is parralus indeid.
And as the Poet in sum pairts dois say,
Lufe is baith frost and snaw, in mids of May.
It is a thing mens sensis for to moue,
To enter in the laborinth of loue.
Thairfore bewar with sicklik things to mell,
Vnles thairin ye intricat your sell.
The subtill schafts of Cvpid ar maist kene,
For be his counsall fail, hes blindit bene.
Sum Poets pens of Venvs majestie,
And cals hir medcin, of Malancolie.
At the first face thocht it be sweit but dout,
Into the end it bitternes brings out.
It is worse then, ane laborynth I thinke,
To fall in such a perrilous precinct.
I think it not convenient for the cace,
For to deduce exampils in this place.
Sen I haue thame discriuid maist copiuslie,
As into my adition ye sall see.
Quhairin, I say men may thame selfs resolue,
This lytill volume, gif thay wald reuolue.
Quhairby I think the reder sall get gane,
And I sall not repent me of my pane.
Out of zour breists dame Venvs pangs expel
And se sche not insinuat hir sell.
That is als mutch, as gif thou wald requier,
To tak fat oyle for quenching of the fier.
Ouer gret resort, sum time ingenders wo,
With Venvs court, quho chancis for to go.
For wantoun lukis, the messengers of loue,
Temps mone men & maks thair harts to moue.
Sum Poets be compairs thame to the rose.
Thocht it be rid, and fellun fair of hew,
Zit in the stalke, scharp pyks it hes anew.
Thocht thay aboue be beutifull and fair,
Perhaps beneth thair pyks may pik the sair.
That this is trew, experience plain dois proue
Quhair men I mene lyis in licencius loue.
To mak remeid, and set thy mynd at eis,
And for to suffocat thir flams that fleis.
Conjoine thy selfe, in honest marage band,
Acording as the Lord hes geuin command.
Suspend your frendlie censure in this cace,
And lufinglie this lytill book imbrace.
Seing it is the first and formest fruits
Of my small gairding, full of widerit ruits.
The first crop of the ground, is not so gud,
As the second quhilk ye may conclud.
Thairfore redarguat not my dull ingyne,
Sen with gud will my cair I doe inclyne.
This mater to make manifest to the,
Quhilk to thy eir delectabill sall be.
Not for na sacond terms, quhilk thou sall fynd,
Nather before, nor in the pairt behynd.
I pride me mair, the truth for to repeit,
Nor into rethorik flours to flow and fleit.
Better with simpill wourds to keepe the way,
Nor with trim termes, to er and go astray.
Althoch that I wald from my mater flie,
The warke in latin extant is to se.
Quhilk may correct me, quhen I mak offence
Quhairfore I am compeld, to keepe the sens.
And imitat my author lyne be lyne,
Quhilk maks my vers, so darkly for to schyne.
Perchance gif I had pend at libertie,
My vers had bene mair elegant and hie.
Out of the way I haue not gretlie sweruid,
His method I so dewlie haue obseruid.
Bot rather amplifiet the mater plane.
Esteme not that I of my selfe mak ruce,
Bot in translation thair is sum abuce.
Zit als subcinctlie, as I culd or micht,
The sentence I haif prosecute aricht.
And thocht my vers, be not poeticall,
Nor sounding of the court rethoricall.
Nor thocht I be not of Precoxel spreit,
Nor into wit, ouer pregnant or pereit.
Bot as ane scoller laikand lair and skill,
I you beseik, to ponder my gud will.
And luk not at my hands, quho this compils,
For cureous frasis, or for ornat stils.
Nor luk not, les thy selfe thou suld abuse,
For polist terms, proceding from my muse.
Vnles that my prolixnes suld you pane,
Into reciting, one thing over agane.
I will conclud and schortlie mak an end,
Praying you not this warke to vilipend.
Gif vertue be extold, or rusid I say,
It flurish will, as flours in mids of May.
Quhair be the contrair, vertew wants exces,
It dois decay, and vtterlie decres.
Euin so gif thou this wark disdainfull hauld,
In time to come my courage will wax cauld.
Bot thou esteming of my poesie,
Farther to write it may incourage me.
Quhilk vnto the mair comfort sal redound,
And to the glore of God mair gretlie sound.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
PAMPHILVS SPEAKAND OF LVFE.
VVoundit I am and in my breist expresse,
Ane dart obscure lies lurken priuilie:
Nocht onely lufe throuch my corps dois acres
Bot dolour daily dois augment in me.
Quho schot the schaft and strucke the straik trulie,
The name na waies I dare expreme nor tell:
For lufe, I say, may neuer thole nor see,
The sight or contemplatioun of it sell.
Ane dart obscure lies lurken priuilie:
Nocht onely lufe throuch my corps dois acres
Bot dolour daily dois augment in me.
Quho schot the schaft and strucke the straik trulie,
The name na waies I dare expreme nor tell:
For lufe, I say, may neuer thole nor see,
The sight or contemplatioun of it sell.
Quhairthrow the perrells greter are I say,
Nor is the domage of my skaith indeid:
No helpe of helth I thinke in ony way.
May medecene giue, my pains for to remeid.
Be what way than; can I cum ony speid,
To plucke my selfe from yis cairfull consait.
Alas, quhat sall I do now into neid,
I may be countit in ane stackren stait.
Nor is the domage of my skaith indeid:
No helpe of helth I thinke in ony way.
May medecene giue, my pains for to remeid.
Be what way than; can I cum ony speid,
To plucke my selfe from yis cairfull consait.
Alas, quhat sall I do now into neid,
I may be countit in ane stackren stait.
I murne, I plene in anguisch and in baill,
And not but caus to cares I do incline,
Seeing no helpe of counsall can awaill,
Vnto my persoun quhilk remains in pine.
Of mony things sin I suffer reuine,
Of mony things I had gret mister to,
For oft times craft with pleasour dois propine,
The awin maister quhen he hes ado.
And not but caus to cares I do incline,
Seeing no helpe of counsall can awaill,
Vnto my persoun quhilk remains in pine.
Of mony things sin I suffer reuine,
Of mony things I had gret mister to,
For oft times craft with pleasour dois propine,
The awin maister quhen he hes ado.
Bot gif my lufe discouer and lat see,
And in effect the face make sene and bair,
Quhairfra it come and quhat it selfe mot be,
And quha the armour dewly did prepaire:
Perchance the selfe sic esperance micht spaire,
That it wald schortly make the awin remeid,
Hope, oft times helps the Maister into cair,
And oft times it dois him desaiue indeid.
And in effect the face make sene and bair,
And quha the armour dewly did prepaire:
Perchance the selfe sic esperance micht spaire,
That it wald schortly make the awin remeid,
Hope, oft times helps the Maister into cair,
And oft times it dois him desaiue indeid.
Or gif it couer the face in sic a sort,
Throuch dolour and feir, that it may not be kend,
Or gif that lufe, sal neuer seike support,
Of helth, quhilk first that maladie man mend:
Perchance war things, sall cum me til offend,
Nor were the former, quhilk molestit me,
So sall it cum to passe into the end,
Into displesour for to duine and die.
Throuch dolour and feir, that it may not be kend,
Or gif that lufe, sal neuer seike support,
Of helth, quhilk first that maladie man mend:
Perchance war things, sall cum me til offend,
Nor were the former, quhilk molestit me,
So sall it cum to passe into the end,
Into displesour for to duine and die.
Better it is to let things cum to licht,
For fire vnseene is vehement with reik,
Bot as for fire that is put into sicht,
Ye se it is mair moderate and meik:
And thairfoir now to Venvs will I speik,
Our life, our deid, and naturall nourishment,
All things are led and gidit be hir eik,
Sic is hir counsal and gouernement.
For fire vnseene is vehement with reik,
Bot as for fire that is put into sicht,
Ye se it is mair moderate and meik:
And thairfoir now to Venvs will I speik,
Our life, our deid, and naturall nourishment,
All things are led and gidit be hir eik,
Sic is hir counsal and gouernement.
Pamphilus speaks to Venus.
God saue you Venvs and your hail exces,
Our hope of helth in quhome we do espier,
That causis all things that are more and lesse,
for to gif place and yeild to thine impier:
The power of Captains quhen thou dois requier,
And michty monarchs seruis quhen thou commands
O godly Venvs spair I thee desire,
My simple vowis and supplicant demandis.
Our hope of helth in quhome we do espier,
That causis all things that are more and lesse,
for to gif place and yeild to thine impier:
The power of Captains quhen thou dois requier,
And michty monarchs seruis quhen thou commands
O godly Venvs spair I thee desire,
My simple vowis and supplicant demandis.
Be thou nocht hard, O Venvs I besiek,
My humble praiers see thou not neglect,
Bot graunt thou that quhilk I do sute and seike,
Seing the mater is of small effect:
Smal thing saide I, for so I did suspect,
Bot to me caitife muche thai ar as zit,
It is not harde to thee quha art elect,
To grant thir thingis, thocht thay wer twise so grit.
Bot graunt thou that quhilk I do sute and seike,
Seing the mater is of small effect:
Smal thing saide I, for so I did suspect,
Bot to me caitife muche thai ar as zit,
It is not harde to thee quha art elect,
To grant thir thingis, thocht thay wer twise so grit.
Gif thou wald grant and let my speich cum speid,
I wald be blist, and turne away to rest,
Sua suld all things weill prosper and succeid,
And turne to me in all things for the best:
Ane damisell neir hand me is adrest,
Quhome I mislike, that scho suld heir remaine,
Gif sche war absent, this I wald protest,
Sche wald releiue me meikil of my paine.
I wald be blist, and turne away to rest,
Sua suld all things weill prosper and succeid,
And turne to me in all things for the best:
Ane damisell neir hand me is adrest,
Quhome I mislike, that scho suld heir remaine,
Gif sche war absent, this I wald protest,
Sche wald releiue me meikil of my paine.
Nar fire ay vsis for to doe mair ill,
Nor fire quhairfra, folke may flee far abak,
Quhairfoir I seike your fauour and gud will,
For to releiue and helpe me in this fact:
Sche is estemit mair frolick fair and frack,
Nor all hir nichbours and hir fallow feirs,
I am desaiuit, and lufe is far to lake,
Gif sche surmount not far aboue hir peirs.
Nor fire quhairfra, folke may flee far abak,
Quhairfoir I seike your fauour and gud will,
For to releiue and helpe me in this fact:
Sche is estemit mair frolick fair and frack,
Nor all hir nichbours and hir fallow feirs,
I am desaiuit, and lufe is far to lake,
Gif sche surmount not far aboue hir peirs.
My inwert pains sche dois baith perse and prick,
With dolent darts, quhilk in me dois abide,
Thir dolent darts quhilk in my hart dois stick,
Na force of mine may thame remoue aside:
Quhairfoir al hours, ye euery time and tide,
The dolorous wounds molests me mony wais,
My colour and my strencth from me dois slide,
My bewtie als, decressis and decais.
With dolent darts, quhilk in me dois abide,
Thir dolent darts quhilk in my hart dois stick,
Na force of mine may thame remoue aside:
Quhairfoir al hours, ye euery time and tide,
The dolorous wounds molests me mony wais,
My colour and my strencth from me dois slide,
My bewtie als, decressis and decais.
This tale I keipit secreit and obscure,
Nocht schawing, quho maid first my woundis to beil,
Iust cause there was the sooth I you assure,
Quhilk me forbad the matter to reueill.
She is esteemit of nobler race and quheill,
Nor I, quhairto I schortly condiscend,
Whairfoir my secreitis now I will conseill,
Fering that sche my wourdis suld vilie pend.
Nocht schawing, quho maid first my woundis to beil,
Quhilk me forbad the matter to reueill.
She is esteemit of nobler race and quheill,
Nor I, quhairto I schortly condiscend,
Whairfoir my secreitis now I will conseill,
Fering that sche my wourdis suld vilie pend.
In geir and ritches sche surpassis me,
Quhilk to be true richt weill I do consider,
For ritches oftimes seikis as we may see
Honour and tocher baith conioynit togither:
Suppose my ritches simple be and slider,
Yet honour and renoune with me remains,
Bot that quilk I may get or conqueis hider,
The same I get with diligence and pains.
Quhilk to be true richt weill I do consider,
For ritches oftimes seikis as we may see
Honour and tocher baith conioynit togither:
Suppose my ritches simple be and slider,
Yet honour and renoune with me remains,
Bot that quilk I may get or conqueis hider,
The same I get with diligence and pains.
Sen sche the dochter is as I suspect,
Of sum ritch berger quhilk inhabits heir,
Amangis a thousand ane sche will elect,
Quhome best sche lufes and greatest lufe dois beir,
My trembling members in my flesch dois feir,
To see hir forme quilk puts me in ane fyer,
Bot mony causis euident and cleir,
Forbids me plaine to tell of my desier.
Of sum ritch berger quhilk inhabits heir,
Amangis a thousand ane sche will elect,
Quhome best sche lufes and greatest lufe dois beir,
My trembling members in my flesch dois feir,
To see hir forme quilk puts me in ane fyer,
Bot mony causis euident and cleir,
Forbids me plaine to tell of my desier.
Pride quhilk procedis of forme and wauering wittis,
Prouokis proud harts to follow furth that traine,
For pride I say not suffers nor permittis:
In modestie ye maistres to remaine:
I sailzit oft from thir flammis to refraine,
And from my hart with force thame till haife dung,
Bot lufe me vrgit ay mair and mair againe,
Quhen I begoud the same for to repung.
Prouokis proud harts to follow furth that traine,
For pride I say not suffers nor permittis:
In modestie ye maistres to remaine:
I sailzit oft from thir flammis to refraine,
And from my hart with force thame till haife dung,
Bot lufe me vrgit ay mair and mair againe,
Quhen I begoud the same for to repung.
My misery ye may behold and se,
My dolour als is not to thee vnkend,
Thairfoir I pray thee present for to be,
And on my praier let thy lufe extend,
Venvs, to me na answer thou dois send,
Nor to my wourdis thou not inclines thine eir,
Thine christall eies on mine dois not discend,
Naither to me thy fauour dois apeir.
My dolour als is not to thee vnkend,
Thairfoir I pray thee present for to be,
Venvs, to me na answer thou dois send,
Nor to my wourdis thou not inclines thine eir,
Thine christall eies on mine dois not discend,
Naither to me thy fauour dois apeir.
Take out the arrows that so swiftlie flies,
Out of my hart quhilk dois it breke and bruse,
Or els my woundis ze metigat and meis,
Conforme vnto the fashioun quilk ye vse,
Quha can susteine the care and great confuse,
Of so grete labours and sic strange intents,
Quhat care is it that walde rewardes refuse,
Vnto the murning maister that laments.
Out of my hart quhilk dois it breke and bruse,
Or els my woundis ze metigat and meis,
Conforme vnto the fashioun quilk ye vse,
Quha can susteine the care and great confuse,
Of so grete labours and sic strange intents,
Quhat care is it that walde rewardes refuse,
Vnto the murning maister that laments.
I schaw thir things so that ye may perceaue,
Quhat carefull dolour all my courage clokes,
The griefe and dolour quhilk I do conceiue,
To ardent praiers daily me prouokes.
Quhat carefull dolour all my courage clokes,
The griefe and dolour quhilk I do conceiue,
To ardent praiers daily me prouokes.
Now answers Venus to Pamphilus.
Than Venvs speikis vnto this lufer boy,
Against grete labour nothing can resist,
For ony maid or lasse ye may inioy,
With warke and labour gif ye like or list,
Eschame not then nor feir not till incist,
To schaw thy mind to quhome thou wald apply,
Scarce of a thousand ane I wald thou wist,
Sall giue the na say with ane plaine denie.
Against grete labour nothing can resist,
For ony maid or lasse ye may inioy,
With warke and labour gif ye like or list,
Eschame not then nor feir not till incist,
To schaw thy mind to quhome thou wald apply,
Scarce of a thousand ane I wald thou wist,
Sall giue the na say with ane plaine denie.
Sche quhome thou seikis with praier till intrait,
Fra thy desire perchance will change hir eir,
Bot not regard hir carlage rouch consait,
Seeing the burding is bot light to beir,
The wicked byer on his backe dois beir,
That sorte of marchandrise to schange and sell,
Quhilk first the seller by ane aith did sweir,
Nocht for to haife as he the truth did tell.
Fra thy desire perchance will change hir eir,
Bot not regard hir carlage rouch consait,
Seeing the burding is bot light to beir,
The wicked byer on his backe dois beir,
That sorte of marchandrise to schange and sell,
Nocht for to haife as he the truth did tell.
To sail the Sea men wald not be content,
Gif that thair harts, for feir suld faint and fail,
Quhair raging wauis and waters turbilent,
Gainestandis the schip, and dois the same assail:
Than gif thou seest sche fauours not thy tail,
Euin at the first vpoun ane suddentie,
Be bissie than, to win hir fauour hail,
With craftie art and great subtilitie.
Gif that thair harts, for feir suld faint and fail,
Quhair raging wauis and waters turbilent,
Gainestandis the schip, and dois the same assail:
Than gif thou seest sche fauours not thy tail,
Euin at the first vpoun ane suddentie,
Be bissie than, to win hir fauour hail,
With craftie art and great subtilitie.
Craft breks mens minds thocht thay astray be boun,
And touns destrois thocht thay be strang and wicht
Castels throw craft are strucken and dung doun,
Likewais by craft, the burding is maid licht:
Fisches are tane by craft, and subtil slicht,
Beneith the fludis and waters that dois fleit,
Also by craft, men ryns baith day and nicht,
Drie fute on Sea, but waknes or but weit.
And touns destrois thocht thay be strang and wicht
Castels throw craft are strucken and dung doun,
Likewais by craft, the burding is maid licht:
Fisches are tane by craft, and subtil slicht,
Beneith the fludis and waters that dois fleit,
Also by craft, men ryns baith day and nicht,
Drie fute on Sea, but waknes or but weit.
Ye craft and office, with ane subtill tred,
Helpis mony things, that wald returne to wrack,
Pure men oft times are nutrefeit and fed,
Vpoun the simple schift quhilk they may make:
Howbeit ane Prence despite and malice take,
By craft his spite to pleasour may appeir,
Ane giltie man by craft stands stout and fracke,
Preseruing baith his body and his geir.
Helpis mony things, that wald returne to wrack,
Pure men oft times are nutrefeit and fed,
Vpoun the simple schift quhilk they may make:
Howbeit ane Prence despite and malice take,
By craft his spite to pleasour may appeir,
Ane giltie man by craft stands stout and fracke,
Preseruing baith his body and his geir.
The rich man now reioysis ye may se,
Quho wont before to sing dame Purtethis sang,
And now on horsebacke he is montit he,
Quha on his fute befoire wes wont to gang:
Things that by Parents na wais did belang,
Bot be dame Fortune that maist noble dame,
This craft and office hes giuin for ane fang,
Vnto the exerciser of the sam.
Quho wont before to sing dame Purtethis sang,
And now on horsebacke he is montit he,
Quha on his fute befoire wes wont to gang:
Things that by Parents na wais did belang,
Bot be dame Fortune that maist noble dame,
This craft and office hes giuin for ane fang,
Perchance gif that thou seis sche disobay,
To do your dewty quhilk with pains ye wan,
Zit not the les, see thou be ready ay,
To serue and please hir so far as ye can:
Be this remeid, I think ye may and man,
Your lemens strife, and boste orecum the more,
And so ane lufer ye obtaine sall than,
Quho to you did profes ane foe before.
To do your dewty quhilk with pains ye wan,
Zit not the les, see thou be ready ay,
To serue and please hir so far as ye can:
Be this remeid, I think ye may and man,
Your lemens strife, and boste orecum the more,
And so ane lufer ye obtaine sall than,
Quho to you did profes ane foe before.
Into those placis quhair sche hantis or bourdis,
Or hes maist hanting so far as ye se,
Pretend ye thair to feid thame with fair wourdis
With merry mowis and sportis that plesant be:
Youtheheid lufes blithnes, and sweit melody,
With sporting wourdis best seruing thair behoofe,
This drawis the harts of young men halilie,
Fast for til enter in the snaris of lufe.
Or hes maist hanting so far as ye se,
Pretend ye thair to feid thame with fair wourdis
With merry mowis and sportis that plesant be:
Youtheheid lufes blithnes, and sweit melody,
With sporting wourdis best seruing thair behoofe,
This drawis the harts of young men halilie,
Fast for til enter in the snaris of lufe.
Schaw thou thy selfe, so sal thou not be deimd,
With visage blyth, quhilk wil content hir best,
For ay ane man the lustier is esteimd,
The mair with blythnes that he be possest:
See thou be not ouer quiet or degest,
Naither thy toung superfluously apply,
For damisels are euer mair adrest,
Thy countenance and gesture till espy.
With visage blyth, quhilk wil content hir best,
For ay ane man the lustier is esteimd,
The mair with blythnes that he be possest:
See thou be not ouer quiet or degest,
Naither thy toung superfluously apply,
For damisels are euer mair adrest,
Thy countenance and gesture till espy.
Sweit modestie and plesant talke procuris,
And lufe dois nutrifie as all men seis,
For plesant talke not onely harts alluris,
Bot cruell minds dois metegat and meis:
Gif place be grantit than quhair euer it beis,
Proceid with courage baith to skeip and loup,
Sche sall nocht onely thee propine and pleis,
Bot gif thee that, of quhilk thou had na houp.
And lufe dois nutrifie as all men seis,
For plesant talke not onely harts alluris,
Bot cruell minds dois metegat and meis:
Gif place be grantit than quhair euer it beis,
Proceid with courage baith to skeip and loup,
Sche sall nocht onely thee propine and pleis,
Bot gif thee that, of quhilk thou had na houp.
Shamefastnes not permits hir till espire,
To seike that thing quhiilk sche wald fainest bie,
Bot that quhairof sche hes ane maist disire.
That samin thing sche titest will denie.
Sche thinkes it is mair honester say I,
Be force and strength her maidinhead to tine,
Nor for to say I plainely wil applie,
Cum do your will and so the shame war mine.
To seike that thing quhiilk sche wald fainest bie,
Bot that quhairof sche hes ane maist disire.
That samin thing sche titest will denie.
Sche thinkes it is mair honester say I,
Be force and strength her maidinhead to tine,
Nor for to say I plainely wil applie,
Cum do your will and so the shame war mine.
Beware my counsail heir I will thee len,
Gif thou to litle domiscill succeid,
Se thou conseale and na waies let her ken,
Thy pouertie necessitie or neid,
But diligence we see driues ouer indeid,
Ane honest life thocht thair be litle geir,
And can cloke ouer hir teares in time of steid,
With cheirfull countenance for till appeir.
Gif thou to litle domiscill succeid,
Se thou conseale and na waies let her ken,
Thy pouertie necessitie or neid,
But diligence we see driues ouer indeid,
Ane honest life thocht thair be litle geir,
And can cloke ouer hir teares in time of steid,
With cheirfull countenance for till appeir.
By thy behauiour and thy wordis but dout,
Thou maist esteeme thy selfe for to be fine,
For hap and chance oftimes we se fall out,
Vpon an small industrie and ingine,
Men in the warld haue money things be line,
Quhilk to their nichbours not the same recordis,
Be this I say ye may consider sine,
How mony to hir qualities accordis.
Thou maist esteeme thy selfe for to be fine,
For hap and chance oftimes we se fall out,
Vpon an small industrie and ingine,
Men in the warld haue money things be line,
Quhilk to their nichbours not the same recordis,
Be this I say ye may consider sine,
How mony to hir qualities accordis.
Quhiles lesings helps as we may se our sell,
And be that mene sum makes thair profit weill,
Hurtful it is somtime the truth to tell,
And in al things the veritie to reueile,
Se that great gifts thou distribute and deale.
To seruand men and handmaids of her house.
Namely to sic as of her hes best feile,
And can perswade her with sweete wordes and dous.
And be that mene sum makes thair profit weill,
Hurtful it is somtime the truth to tell,
And in al things the veritie to reueile,
Se that great gifts thou distribute and deale.
To seruand men and handmaids of her house.
Namely to sic as of her hes best feile,
And can perswade her with sweete wordes and dous.
Se so thou doe for this cause and behoofe,
That thay of thee may make report at hame,
And feid thy lustie Lady and thy lufe,
With lufing praises to thy laud and fame:
Quhile sche excogitatis and weis the schame,
And hes the ballance present in hir hand,
Quhither sche mindis for til fulfill the same,
Or quhither sche the samin will gainstand.
And feid thy lustie Lady and thy lufe,
With lufing praises to thy laud and fame:
Quhile sche excogitatis and weis the schame,
And hes the ballance present in hir hand,
Quhither sche mindis for til fulfill the same,
Or quhither sche the samin will gainstand.
Than bissie be to tire hir with assais,
For so the bad, that blindit artchour boy,
Thou being victor, be thir menis and wais,
In schorter space, thy lufe thou sal inioy:
The mind of man, gets mony tost and toy,
Quhiles heir, quhiles thair, bewrapit round about,
In paine, perplexity, and gret anoy,
Ay quhile he leuis and lies into this dout.
For so the bad, that blindit artchour boy,
Thou being victor, be thir menis and wais,
In schorter space, thy lufe thou sal inioy:
The mind of man, gets mony tost and toy,
Quhiles heir, quhiles thair, bewrapit round about,
In paine, perplexity, and gret anoy,
Ay quhile he leuis and lies into this dout.
Sum trinschman true, man in this mater mell,
Quho wald content you baith, for litle hier,
And in this mater, quietly culd tell,
Quhat war the thing, that baith ye did desier:
Inuious age, ay subject vntill Ier,
The deids of young men, dois serch out and seik,
And angry age, subiect to flite and flyer,
Forbids young men, sic purposis to speik.
Quho wald content you baith, for litle hier,
And in this mater, quietly culd tell,
Quhat war the thing, that baith ye did desier:
Inuious age, ay subject vntill Ier,
The deids of young men, dois serch out and seik,
And angry age, subiect to flite and flyer,
Forbids young men, sic purposis to speik.
Begin, for time hes giuin, and sall gif yit,
Things, that by expectatioun sall appeir,
No lufe sall be, in that place, I promit,
Quhairin ye mister, for to dout or feir:
I say na mair, and thairfoir gif gud eir,
Tak tent to win your lufe, that disobais,
The warke begun, sall schaw the selfe maist cleir,
And sall proceid, ane thousand sindry wais.
Things, that by expectatioun sall appeir,
No lufe sall be, in that place, I promit,
Quhairin ye mister, for to dout or feir:
I say na mair, and thairfoir gif gud eir,
Tak tent to win your lufe, that disobais,
The warke begun, sall schaw the selfe maist cleir,
And sall proceid, ane thousand sindry wais.
Pamphilus speakis with himselfe.
Ane hail man makis small comfort to consaue,
In him that lies desesid, into distres,
Hereby, the Patient, na wais can persaue,
His maladie, and sicknes maid the les:
My dolorous tormentis, na wais dois decres,
By Venvs counsail, thocht hir speich be plane,
Bot pains of lufe, my persoun dois poces,
Returning backward to my breist agane.
In him that lies desesid, into distres,
Hereby, the Patient, na wais can persaue,
His maladie, and sicknes maid the les:
My dolorous tormentis, na wais dois decres,
By Venvs counsail, thocht hir speich be plane,
Bot pains of lufe, my persoun dois poces,
Returning backward to my breist agane.
For ay before, my hope affixt wes fast,
Into dame Venvs, thinking to get gane,
Frame, my hope, and esperance, is past,
Bot dolour still within me dois remaine:
My marinell hes left me frustrat waine,
In waters deipe, and fludis of all mischief,
Ane heuening place and port I seik with paine,
Yit can I find nane, for my schips relief.
Into dame Venvs, thinking to get gane,
Frame, my hope, and esperance, is past,
Bot dolour still within me dois remaine:
My marinell hes left me frustrat waine,
In waters deipe, and fludis of all mischief,
Ane heuening place and port I seik with paine,
Yit can I find nane, for my schips relief.
Quhat sall I do? for faine I wald eschew,
My esperance, in hir remains no more,
It mo behouis, to gang againe of new,
To speik with hir, with quhome I spack before.
My esperance, in hir remains no more,
It mo behouis, to gang againe of new,
To speik with hir, with quhome I spack before.
Pamphilus seeing Galathea.
O God, gif sche cums with ane gudly grace,
With nakit hair, and countenence so mile,
This is ane maist conuenient proper place,
vntill vs twa, for to confer ane quhile:
I am in feir, as ane into exile,
In dolorous torments, heir for to be left,
And that my voice, and wourdis sall tine thair stile,
As ane, that of thair sencis are bereft.
With nakit hair, and countenence so mile,
This is ane maist conuenient proper place,
vntill vs twa, for to confer ane quhile:
I am in feir, as ane into exile,
In dolorous torments, heir for to be left,
And that my voice, and wourdis sall tine thair stile,
As ane, that of thair sencis are bereft.
My force and strength, away from me is went,
I ttymbil and schaik baith into handis and feit,
To me pure catif in astonisment,
Thair is no part that proper is or meit:
I purposit oft my tail for to repeit,
And of my mynd till maid my stomak tume,
Bot feir and dreid hes so pocest my spreit,
To speik my pleasour I durst not presume.
To me pure catif in astonisment,
Thair is no part that proper is or meit:
I purposit oft my tail for to repeit,
And of my mynd till maid my stomak tume,
Bot feir and dreid hes so pocest my spreit,
To speik my pleasour I durst not presume.
Alterd I am with angueische greif and baill,
Sua that I skars can ken my self throw cair,
Houbeid ye se my voce dois faint and faill,
Yit not the les to speik I wil not spair.
Sua that I skars can ken my self throw cair,
Houbeid ye se my voce dois faint and faill,
Yit not the les to speik I wil not spair.
Pamphilus speikis to Galathea.
I haif ane nece, in kin to me richt neir,
Quho dwellis into ane toun, not far abake,
Sche me requeistit to cum to you heir,
Ane thousand commendatiouns for to make:
Sche knawis you not, nor neuer with you spake,
Bot be report of folkis quhome ye frequent,
To speik with you grit plesour sche dois take,
Quhen tyme or place occasioun sall present.
Quho dwellis into ane toun, not far abake,
Sche me requeistit to cum to you heir,
Ane thousand commendatiouns for to make:
Sche knawis you not, nor neuer with you spake,
Bot be report of folkis quhome ye frequent,
To speik with you grit plesour sche dois take,
Quhen tyme or place occasioun sall present.
My parentis maid me grit requeist thame sell,
In my frendis toun till haif remaind ane space,
Of the quhilk frendis, grit number dois induell,
And hes thair habitatioun, in that place:
Thir Parentis me contrackit in a cace,
Vpoun ane maid, quhois tochergud wes grit,
Sche wes esteemd to be of nobill race,
Yit, I that marage neuer wald permit.
In my frendis toun till haif remaind ane space,
Of the quhilk frendis, grit number dois induell,
And hes thair habitatioun, in that place:
Thir Parentis me contrackit in a cace,
Vpoun ane maid, quhois tochergud wes grit,
Sche wes esteemd to be of nobill race,
Yit, I that marage neuer wald permit.
All kind of things, I plainly did postpone,
Sen ye haif plesit me best for my behoue,
I haife refusit for your sake alone,
All warldly thingis, awating on your lufe:
With smiling scheir, I speik thir things forsooth,
For sporting speich, in youdeth ye may se,
Few wourdis, with bourdis, to blithnes harts dois moue,
Sua, be that menes, na stur or strife can be.
Sen ye haif plesit me best for my behoue,
I haife refusit for your sake alone,
All warldly thingis, awating on your lufe:
For sporting speich, in youdeth ye may se,
Few wourdis, with bourdis, to blithnes harts dois moue,
Sua, be that menes, na stur or strife can be.
Gif, thou thy secreit deids, to me will grant,
And sua to the againe, my sacreits tels,
I promeis, nane sall be participant,
Quhat we twa speikis, except it be our sels:
O fragrant flour, in bewtie that excels,
Lat promeis heir, be made betwix vs plane,
Howbeid to speik, I haue begun as els,
Yit not the les, I sall begin agane.
And sua to the againe, my sacreits tels,
I promeis, nane sall be participant,
Quhat we twa speikis, except it be our sels:
O fragrant flour, in bewtie that excels,
Lat promeis heir, be made betwix vs plane,
Howbeid to speik, I haue begun as els,
Yit not the les, I sall begin agane.
Sen we twa minds, na langer for to striue,
The veritie, we plainly suld expreme,
In all this warld, nane leuand is aliue,
Quhome better I lufe, or mair of dois esteme:
First sen I lusit you, feruent and extreme,
Thre years are past, the sooth I you assure,
Yit durst I neuer, sic things schaw or deme,
Bot wes compellit, to keip the same obscure.
The veritie, we plainly suld expreme,
In all this warld, nane leuand is aliue,
Quhome better I lufe, or mair of dois esteme:
First sen I lusit you, feruent and extreme,
Thre years are past, the sooth I you assure,
Yit durst I neuer, sic things schaw or deme,
Bot wes compellit, to keip the same obscure.
Ane wise man will, from conference refraine,
Gif his companioun deife, he do suspect,
Swa, it becums vs not to speik in vaine,
Except the mater turne to sum effect:
My feruent lufe, nane abil is to breke,
For farther talk, I speik na mair you to,
Vnto the time, your answer ye derect,
Quhat in this purpose, ye pretend to do.
Gif his companioun deife, he do suspect,
Swa, it becums vs not to speik in vaine,
Except the mater turne to sum effect:
My feruent lufe, nane abil is to breke,
For farther talk, I speik na mair you to,
Vnto the time, your answer ye derect,
Quhat in this purpose, ye pretend to do.
Galathea, answers to Pamphilus.
Svm young men be, that all thair cairs inclins,
For to deflore, pure damisels estaitis,
For craftie lufe, and curious hie ingins,
Begiles pure lassis, with thair licht consaitis:
I set not by your wiles, and wrang debaitis,
Your craft and art, I vilie pend in plaine,
Quhome to begile, with flatry and defaitis,
It sall surpas your hie politike braine.
For to deflore, pure damisels estaitis,
For craftie lufe, and curious hie ingins,
I set not by your wiles, and wrang debaitis,
Your craft and art, I vilie pend in plaine,
Quhome to begile, with flatry and defaitis,
It sall surpas your hie politike braine.
Seik siclike folkes, as feirs for your estait,
And with your wickit plesours will comix,
And sic as with your fraudulent desait,
Will be begilit, with trumperie and triks.
And with your wickit plesours will comix,
And sic as with your fraudulent desait,
Will be begilit, with trumperie and triks.
Pamphilus speakis to Galathea.
Oft times, the falts of wickit bissie bois,
Perturbis the iust, and dois thame back repell,
It is my nichbours faut, quhilk me anois,
And not the faut, quhilk I commit my sell:
O burd bening, whois bewtie dois excell,
Of thy gud grace, I thee beseik, til heir,
And grant me grace, a few wourds for to tell,
To you my maistres, and my darling deir.
Perturbis the iust, and dois thame back repell,
It is my nichbours faut, quhilk me anois,
And not the faut, quhilk I commit my sell:
O burd bening, whois bewtie dois excell,
Of thy gud grace, I thee beseik, til heir,
And grant me grace, a few wourds for to tell,
To you my maistres, and my darling deir.
I take to witnes, God ouer euery quhair,
With all the powers of this earthly sile,
Gif ony thing to you, I do declair,
Quhilk spoken is, for fraudfulnes or gile:
In all this warld, nane can I spie or pile,
Mair deir to me, or mair for my behoofe,
My hart and mind seis nane, of na kin stile,
Mair apt and wordie till auance in lufe.
With all the powers of this earthly sile,
Gif ony thing to you, I do declair,
Quhilk spoken is, for fraudfulnes or gile:
In all this warld, nane can I spie or pile,
Mair deir to me, or mair for my behoofe,
My hart and mind seis nane, of na kin stile,
Mair apt and wordie till auance in lufe.
It is in vaine, the purpose quhilk I spak,
Be resoun of my barnlie age so short,
quhilk scarce yit kens, quhat domage it can mak,
Or yit the profit, quhilk it may import:
Suppose young age, be scharper in a sort,
And prompter spreitit teddence for to try,
Quhen men of age, seis mony things athort,
Young men I think, far mo things suld espy.
Be resoun of my barnlie age so short,
quhilk scarce yit kens, quhat domage it can mak,
Or yit the profit, quhilk it may import:
Suppose young age, be scharper in a sort,
And prompter spreitit teddence for to try,
Young men I think, far mo things suld espy.
Thocht thou be young, and barnely, I wald wis,
That thou suld ken, and cairfully incist,
First quhat I am, sine, quhat my calling is,
And quhair my lufe and kindnes dois concist:
Wisedome and craft, I wald thou kend and wist,
By vse and custome, sall thair secreits schaw,
All things be vse, hes lernit bene at list,
Quhilk mortall men, dois vnderstand and knaw.
That thou suld ken, and cairfully incist,
First quhat I am, sine, quhat my calling is,
And quhair my lufe and kindnes dois concist:
Wisedome and craft, I wald thou kend and wist,
By vse and custome, sall thair secreits schaw,
All things be vse, hes lernit bene at list,
Quhilk mortall men, dois vnderstand and knaw.
To gang and cum, and towartis you resort,
Our time about, for to confer anone,
With ernest mind, maist humbly I exhort,
That we together may be baith alone:
The inwart of the hart, is knawn to none,
Bot be the speich, it is cognossit and kend,
And thairfore now, I pray thee to propone,
Quhat is your will, and pleasour ye pretend.
Our time about, for to confer anone,
With ernest mind, maist humbly I exhort,
That we together may be baith alone:
The inwart of the hart, is knawn to none,
Bot be the speich, it is cognossit and kend,
And thairfore now, I pray thee to propone,
Quhat is your will, and pleasour ye pretend.
Galathea, answers to Pamphilus.
You, nor na man, I sall forbid, I say,
To cum or gang, or yit his speich to spair,
Ilk traueller hes a richt gait and a way,
In sic parts quhair, it happins him to repair:
It is maist decent, for a maiden fair,
Vnto the askers answer, to reply,
A Damisell may do this meikill mair,
On ony young man, till incall or cry,
To cum or gang, or yit his speich to spair,
Ilk traueller hes a richt gait and a way,
In sic parts quhair, it happins him to repair:
It is maist decent, for a maiden fair,
Vnto the askers answer, to reply,
A Damisell may do this meikill mair,
On ony young man, till incall or cry,
For to confes the truth, I thinke no schame,
Of you, nor na mans cumming I take cure,
Prouiding, that my honour and gud name,
From spot and blot, may be preseruit sure:
To heir and se, It settis I you assure,
And to make answer, quhen young men inquires,
This wald be done, with countenance demure,
And moderat maner, as the caus requires.
Of you, nor na mans cumming I take cure,
Prouiding, that my honour and gud name,
From spot and blot, may be preseruit sure:
To heir and se, It settis I you assure,
This wald be done, with countenance demure,
And moderat maner, as the caus requires.
With mocking wourdis, gif ye impeche my eir,
Like speich again, to you I will present,
In ony thing, gif I haue hurt you heir,
To make ane mends; I sall be weill content:
To be alone, howbeid, your will be bent,
That I refuse, and thairfoir speik na mair,
It is not decent, we twa suld frequent,
In ony part, quhair na man makis repair.
Like speich again, to you I will present,
In ony thing, gif I haue hurt you heir,
To make ane mends; I sall be weill content:
To be alone, howbeid, your will be bent,
That I refuse, and thairfoir speik na mair,
It is not decent, we twa suld frequent,
In ony part, quhair na man makis repair.
In secreit parts, my conference to seik,
A sclanderous fame, sall rise from that effect,
Bot in the peoples presence gif I speik,
Ye knaw your selfe, I will be les suspect.
A sclanderous fame, sall rise from that effect,
Bot in the peoples presence gif I speik,
Ye knaw your selfe, I will be les suspect.
Pamphilus speakis to Galathea.
Not small rewardis, on me thou dois imploy,
Bot gifts maist gret, with fauour I do feil,
Gret gladnes I consaiue, and inwart ioy,
Your talking hes contentit me so weill:
To rander thankis, I scantly can haif skeill,
To you, quha did the benefits auance,
The constant talke, and wourds quhilk ye reueill,
I am vnabill for to recompance.
Bot gifts maist gret, with fauour I do feil,
Gret gladnes I consaiue, and inwart ioy,
Your talking hes contentit me so weill:
To rander thankis, I scantly can haif skeill,
To you, quha did the benefits auance,
The constant talke, and wourds quhilk ye reueill,
I am vnabill for to recompance.
Perchance, the time sall schortly cum behind,
And I beleife to see that happy day,
That for your fauour, ye schall frendschip find,
And to my power, sall the fame repay:
I dar demaund, or seik na thing, I say,
For feir I suld prouoke your wrath and ier,
Bot vnto you, I man bow and obay,
Albeid, I yit haue sum things to requier.
And I beleife to see that happy day,
That for your fauour, ye schall frendschip find,
And to my power, sall the fame repay:
I dar demaund, or seik na thing, I say,
For feir I suld prouoke your wrath and ier,
Bot vnto you, I man bow and obay,
Albeid, I yit haue sum things to requier.
Thy lufe and fauour, I wald ken and knaw,
Gif kissis sweit, thou wald vouchsafe on me,
That we mair kindnes, micht till vther schaw,
Quhen time and place suld offerit till vs be.
Gif kissis sweit, thou wald vouchsafe on me,
That we mair kindnes, micht till vther schaw,
Quhen time and place suld offerit till vs be.
Galathea answers to Pamphilus.
Albeid, imbrasings nutrifies repas,
To wilfull lufe, proceiding from dispair,
By kissis sweit, oftimes it cums to pas,
That women are tane captifs in the snair:
To kis and clap, I will permit and spair,
Prouiding, that ye do na mair nor this,
Except your selfe, the suth I you declair,
My mouth, nane suld get credit for to kis.
To wilfull lufe, proceiding from dispair,
By kissis sweit, oftimes it cums to pas,
That women are tane captifs in the snair:
To kis and clap, I will permit and spair,
Prouiding, that ye do na mair nor this,
Except your selfe, the suth I you declair,
My mouth, nane suld get credit for to kis.
Now I beleife, the Kirk be scaild amaist,
And that my father and mother be remouit,
Thairfoir I man pas to the house in haist,
That be my Parents, I be not reprouit:
The time sall cum thairfoir, be not commouit,
Quhen of our purpose, we sall speik in plaine,
Let euery one of vs twa weill belouit,
Haue mind of vther, will we meit againe.
And that my father and mother be remouit,
Thairfoir I man pas to the house in haist,
That be my Parents, I be not reprouit:
The time sall cum thairfoir, be not commouit,
Quhen of our purpose, we sall speik in plaine,
Let euery one of vs twa weill belouit,
Haue mind of vther, will we meit againe.
Pamphilus speakis to himselfe.
In all this warld, thair is no persoun past,
Mair blithe nor I, or better at mine eis,
My hope and anker is affixit fast,
Into the part quhilk maist my mind did pleis:
The gods aboue, hes blessit my haill decreis,
Dame nature als hes giuin me gifts in store,
I am maid rich in mony gret degreis,
Quha wes maist pure and miserable of before.
Mair blithe nor I, or better at mine eis,
My hope and anker is affixit fast,
Into the part quhilk maist my mind did pleis:
The gods aboue, hes blessit my haill decreis,
Dame nature als hes giuin me gifts in store,
I am maid rich in mony gret degreis,
Quha wes maist pure and miserable of before.
She did desire with clament wourdis and kind,
In my remembre, to be satlet sure,
Na pane sal hir, expell out of my mind,
So lang, as my remembrence may indure:
Hir company, sche kens I doe procure,
Yit skars sche kens, my feruent lufe so fre,
Into my former stait I sal demure,
Excep of me sche memorantif be.
Na pane sal hir, expell out of my mind,
So lang, as my remembrence may indure:
Hir company, sche kens I doe procure,
Yit skars sche kens, my feruent lufe so fre,
Into my former stait I sal demure,
Excep of me sche memorantif be.
I am releu'd, out of the troublus den,
Yit ma perplexiteis, dois me opres,
The quhilk occaseouns, makeis me to misken,
My counsal, quhilk suld comfort my distres:
Gif I resort, or till hir haif exces,
Sine sporting wourdis, with hir do gest and gek,
The comoun sclander sall the same expres,
And make our speitch, to turne to na effect.
Yit ma perplexiteis, dois me opres,
The quhilk occaseouns, makeis me to misken,
My counsal, quhilk suld comfort my distres:
Gif I resort, or till hir haif exces,
Sine sporting wourdis, with hir do gest and gek,
The comoun sclander sall the same expres,
And make our speitch, to turne to na effect.
Excep be oft frequenting I tak cure,
Our kindnes to conferme, and mak perfite,
Perchance our lufe, quhilk yit is not maid sure,
Betwix vs baith, sall sinder and acquite.
That lufe acressis, custome hes the wyte,
Bot rair resort, makis kindnes to decres,
For lufe, that is not cherisd with delyte,
Ay waxis cauld, and daylie growis the les.
Our kindnes to conferme, and mak perfite,
Perchance our lufe, quhilk yit is not maid sure,
Betwix vs baith, sall sinder and acquite.
That lufe acressis, custome hes the wyte,
Bot rair resort, makis kindnes to decres,
For lufe, that is not cherisd with delyte,
Ay waxis cauld, and daylie growis the les.
Ingill, will be als bauld as ye desier,
Gif that with treis, ye bigit round about,
Bot fra ye tak, the timmer fra the fier,
From farther heit, it wil extingueische out:
Now mone cairis, ganestandis my stomok stout,
Gret perrellis als, my persoun dois preuene,
My mind is cast, in mone cairful dout,
Sic ar the troubillis, quhilk I do sustene.
Gif that with treis, ye bigit round about,
Bot fra ye tak, the timmer fra the fier,
From farther heit, it wil extingueische out:
Now mone cairis, ganestandis my stomok stout,
Gret perrellis als, my persoun dois preuene,
My mind is cast, in mone cairful dout,
Sic ar the troubillis, quhilk I do sustene.
Prosperitie, agains me dois repell,
My fortoun als, from me dois slip and slyd,
My mind, hes na assurement in it sel,
Nor constant purpos, quhairupoun to byd:
Quhilis fortoun will gainstand, and set asid,
The deidis of men, that lukis for to find grace,
For sche permitis not, purpos til abid,
Into the awin rowme, or apointit place.
My fortoun als, from me dois slip and slyd,
Nor constant purpos, quhairupoun to byd:
Quhilis fortoun will gainstand, and set asid,
The deidis of men, that lukis for to find grace,
For sche permitis not, purpos til abid,
Into the awin rowme, or apointit place.
Albeid by fortoun sum hes hurt resaiued,
Yit hes sche helpit mone, intil neid,
Sua vnder fortoun, it may be persaiued,
How in this warld, men present life dois leid:
God, and gud trauell furnishis indeid,
And vs prouidis in all thingis sound and hail,
Without Godis help, na purpos can cum speid,
Nor in the warld, na labour can awaill.
Yit hes sche helpit mone, intil neid,
Sua vnder fortoun, it may be persaiued,
How in this warld, men present life dois leid:
God, and gud trauell furnishis indeid,
And vs prouidis in all thingis sound and hail,
Without Godis help, na purpos can cum speid,
Nor in the warld, na labour can awaill.
Let God be than my strenthe and fortreis stark,
And he quha suld, my sacreit turns espy,
God mot be gouernator of my wark,
And to my interprisis all aply:
My brother nor my oye, thairfoir say I,
Sal not be tainschman, as thay war beforne,
For few or nane, findis faithfulnes thairby,
Howbeid, he be his natif brother borne.
And he quha suld, my sacreit turns espy,
God mot be gouernator of my wark,
And to my interprisis all aply:
My brother nor my oye, thairfoir say I,
Sal not be tainschman, as thay war beforne,
For few or nane, findis faithfulnes thairby,
Howbeid, he be his natif brother borne.
Oye, vntil oye, howbeid thay be bot few,
Can skars keip faith, quhilk by ane aith thay sweir,
Brother to brother, wil be found vntrew,
Quhen flammis of lufe thair courage makis to steir:
Throw small occasiouns skaith will quhylis apeir,
Bot wisemen will from siclik thingis apeill,
Thairfoir it me becummis, for to reteir,
Sum better way, quhilk makis mair for my weill.
Can skars keip faith, quhilk by ane aith thay sweir,
Brother to brother, wil be found vntrew,
Quhen flammis of lufe thair courage makis to steir:
Throw small occasiouns skaith will quhylis apeir,
Bot wisemen will from siclik thingis apeill,
Thairfoir it me becummis, for to reteir,
Sum better way, quhilk makis mair for my weill.
Heir neir, by duellis ane carling aulde and teuche
Full of Ingine, and craft I you assure,
Sche is ane feruant ape and meit anewche,
In Venvs craft, to exercise hir cure:
Postponing cairs, quhilk present I indure,
To pas away my feit, I will prepair,
And to the auld wife, I will fordward fure,
My mind and counsail that I may declair.
Full of Ingine, and craft I you assure,
Sche is ane feruant ape and meit anewche,
Postponing cairs, quhilk present I indure,
To pas away my feit, I will prepair,
And to the auld wife, I will fordward fure,
My mind and counsail that I may declair.
Pamphilus speikis to Anus.
Your laud and praise, in all partis dois apeir,
Ane gud commend, of all men ye resaue,
Quhilk is the caus, that maid me to cum heir,
Your gud consent, and counsall for to craue:
I will beseik, your gud will to consaue,
My wourds, quhilk I am mindit to fulfill,
Let na man heir, quhat we twa spokin haue,
Without it be, with my consent and will,
Ane gud commend, of all men ye resaue,
Quhilk is the caus, that maid me to cum heir,
Your gud consent, and counsall for to craue:
I will beseik, your gud will to consaue,
My wourds, quhilk I am mindit to fulfill,
Let na man heir, quhat we twa spokin haue,
Without it be, with my consent and will,
My nichbour Galathae, that lustie maid,
Quhome weill ye ken, and with hir oft hes bene,
Sche sais hir selfe, hir lufe is on me laid,
Gif so be nocht, I am begild I mene:
I am compeld, my toung for to retene,
So faine from troubils, I wald fle abak,
I am in feir, sum perrill me preuene,
For I feir all thing, that may danger mak.
Quhome weill ye ken, and with hir oft hes bene,
Sche sais hir selfe, hir lufe is on me laid,
Gif so be nocht, I am begild I mene:
I am compeld, my toung for to retene,
So faine from troubils, I wald fle abak,
I am in feir, sum perrill me preuene,
For I feir all thing, that may danger mak.
Ane bruit will cum, but of ane litle cace,
Yit in mens mouthis lang time it will remaine,
Howbeid, it lie and lurke ane litle space,
Be oft report, it will spreid out againe:
Small thing prouokis, pure caitife men to paine,
A thousand ils fast fallows thame with speid,
The wark and labour, quhilk hes vexit my braine,
Is yit in danger, gif it sall succeid.
Yit in mens mouthis lang time it will remaine,
Howbeid, it lie and lurke ane litle space,
Be oft report, it will spreid out againe:
Small thing prouokis, pure caitife men to paine,
A thousand ils fast fallows thame with speid,
The wark and labour, quhilk hes vexit my braine,
Is yit in danger, gif it sall succeid.
Sen of my troublus stait, ye haife ane feil,
By your auice, the same may be adrest,
Beseiking you, to couer and consceill,
The falts and spots, quhairwith I am pocest.
By your auice, the same may be adrest,
The falts and spots, quhairwith I am pocest.
Anus answers to Pamphilus.
Ane vther lufis, that quhilk thou lufis thy sell,
And that thou seiks, ane vther seiks thairtill,
Yit not the les, this meikill I the tell,
Into the mater, he wantis my gudwill:
The man is gud anewch, I say na ill,
And seruis ane honest wife, I you assure,
Bot yit, the gift he offerd to fulfill,
Did me displeis, becaus it wes so pure.
And that thou seiks, ane vther seiks thairtill,
Yit not the les, this meikill I the tell,
Into the mater, he wantis my gudwill:
The man is gud anewch, I say na ill,
And seruis ane honest wife, I you assure,
Bot yit, the gift he offerd to fulfill,
Did me displeis, becaus it wes so pure.
He promisd me till exercise my schift
Auld clais, and clokis my mister till haife bet,
Bot sic a small propine and nochty gift,
Did make my dewty to be cleane foryet:
Gif giftis be giuin in time, quhilk are to get,
It makis ane vantage, for to follow sine,
Richt law we see, peruertit is, and set,
Be budis and bribis, and be the awin ingine.
Auld clais, and clokis my mister till haife bet,
Bot sic a small propine and nochty gift,
Did make my dewty to be cleane foryet:
Gif giftis be giuin in time, quhilk are to get,
It makis ane vantage, for to follow sine,
Richt law we see, peruertit is, and set,
Be budis and bribis, and be the awin ingine.
Nane will her get, the truth I you declair,
Bot be my moyen and gudwill, I mene,
For sche wes my familiar euer mair,
And at my biding, sche hes euer bene:
I am hir gider, as it may be sene,
Quha kens hir sacreitis baith in gud and ill,
Na thing vnto hir persoun, dois pertene,
That can be done by my awice and will.
Bot be my moyen and gudwill, I mene,
For sche wes my familiar euer mair,
And at my biding, sche hes euer bene:
I am hir gider, as it may be sene,
Quha kens hir sacreitis baith in gud and ill,
Na thing vnto hir persoun, dois pertene,
That can be done by my awice and will.
I speik na mair, how euer the mater beis,
Sum vther caris, dois all my body bind,
Let ilkane, gang thair awin gait as thay pleis,
To seik support, quhair thay the same may find.
Sum vther caris, dois all my body bind,
Let ilkane, gang thair awin gait as thay pleis,
To seik support, quhair thay the same may find.
Pamphilus speakis to Anus.
How for till haif hir, it may cum to pas,
My onely cair, and exercise is bent,
Gif ye culd gar me, get this lustie las,
My mind with all thingis, ye wald weill content:
I thinke it neidfull and expedient,
To by the warke, wrocht be an vncow man,
So soone as he the samin sall present,
Conforme to promeis, to reward him than.
My onely cair, and exercise is bent,
Gif ye culd gar me, get this lustie las,
My mind with all thingis, ye wald weill content:
I thinke it neidfull and expedient,
To by the warke, wrocht be an vncow man,
So soone as he the samin sall present,
Conforme to promeis, to reward him than.
Ye sall not be begild, nor set aside,
Bot for your pains, propines ye sall resaiue,
Gif be your moyen, ye may me prouide,
Thingis quhilk I want, and wischis faine to haue:
I pray you tell me that I may persaiue,
The name of that propine, quhilk ye procure,
Quhat euer it be, that of me ye can craue,
Thou sall it haue, the suth I ye assure.
Bot for your pains, propines ye sall resaiue,
Gif be your moyen, ye may me prouide,
Thingis quhilk I want, and wischis faine to haue:
I pray you tell me that I may persaiue,
The name of that propine, quhilk ye procure,
Quhat euer it be, that of me ye can craue,
Thou sall it haue, the suth I ye assure.
Anus answers to Pamphilus.
Al sick I say as bears dame Purtethis bell,
Seikis syndrie thingis, quhairof thame selfis ar scant,
I am eschamd, for to declair or tel,
All kind of thingis, quhilk mister garis me want:
Quhen I wes young, and in my simmer plant,
I wes richt ratche, and in gret substance set,
Bot now my geir, is al decayd, I grant,
Thairfore I mister money thingis to get.
Seikis syndrie thingis, quhairof thame selfis ar scant,
I am eschamd, for to declair or tel,
All kind of thingis, quhilk mister garis me want:
Quhen I wes young, and in my simmer plant,
I wes richt ratche, and in gret substance set,
Bot now my geir, is al decayd, I grant,
Thairfore I mister money thingis to get.
My febill corps quhilk daily dois decres,
And als my age, makis purtethe me persew,
The occupatioun, quhilk I do profes,
Na proffite makis to me, I wald ye knew:
In cace ye se your kindnes, I renew,
Or may make profite intill ony way,
In times to cum, I pray you to be trew,
And lat your hous be patent to me ay.
And als my age, makis purtethe me persew,
The occupatioun, quhilk I do profes,
Na proffite makis to me, I wald ye knew:
In cace ye se your kindnes, I renew,
In times to cum, I pray you to be trew,
And lat your hous be patent to me ay.
Pamphilus speakis to Anus.
Now baith my hous and all things sall be thine,
It sall stand patent, quhen ye cum thairtill,
The substance and the moyen quhilk is mine,
Sall be your awin, do with thame as ye will:
Frendschip and concord, quhilk sall ay stand still,
Hes vs conioynd, quhairof, I am richt faine,
The faith and promeis, quhilk I suld fulfill,
Mot be maid sure, for euer to remaine.
It sall stand patent, quhen ye cum thairtill,
The substance and the moyen quhilk is mine,
Sall be your awin, do with thame as ye will:
Frendschip and concord, quhilk sall ay stand still,
Hes vs conioynd, quhairof, I am richt faine,
The faith and promeis, quhilk I suld fulfill,
Mot be maid sure, for euer to remaine.
This ye man do, and thairfoir markit weill,
With walkrife cair, heir I will you protest,
This turne to do, with craftines and skeill,
And with discretioun, as ye can do best:
How things begins, out endis, and how thay lest,
For to behold, it is ane wisemans will,
The end of all things schaws amangis the rest,
Quhat fruit cums furth, baith intill gud and ill.
With walkrife cair, heir I will you protest,
This turne to do, with craftines and skeill,
And with discretioun, as ye can do best:
How things begins, out endis, and how thay lest,
For to behold, it is ane wisemans will,
The end of all things schaws amangis the rest,
Quhat fruit cums furth, baith intill gud and ill.
Lerne to begin, and how to end compleit,
Thy speich and talke, your purpose to decore,
That ye your wourdis, mair promptly may repeit,
Quhilk ye in mind, premeditate before.
Thy speich and talke, your purpose to decore,
That ye your wourdis, mair promptly may repeit,
Quhilk ye in mind, premeditate before.
Anus speiking that Galathea micht heir her.
Into this toun thair dwellis, as all men seis,
Ane trim young man, surpassing but compair,
Exceding vthers, intill all degrees,
For gud behauiour, and for bewtie fair:
Nane neuer was, mair sweit or debonair,
Intill our time, or age as I suspect,
My pouerty, with helpe he dois repair,
Vnto my purtethe, he hes sic respect.
Ane trim young man, surpassing but compair,
Exceding vthers, intill all degrees,
For gud behauiour, and for bewtie fair:
Nane neuer was, mair sweit or debonair,
Intill our time, or age as I suspect,
Vnto my purtethe, he hes sic respect.
All of his age, he far excellis in deids,
And in gud manners, as it may be kend,
For Pamphilvs surpassis and exceids,
His haill companiouns, into gud commend:
To play the fule, with fules, he can pretend,
And gentries schaw, quhen gentillis him requiers,
Wise men fra daffing, can thame felfs defend,
By richt and resoun, as the caus requiers.
And in gud manners, as it may be kend,
For Pamphilvs surpassis and exceids,
His haill companiouns, into gud commend:
To play the fule, with fules, he can pretend,
And gentries schaw, quhen gentillis him requiers,
Wise men fra daffing, can thame felfs defend,
By richt and resoun, as the caus requiers.
In all this toun, thair is nane borne or bred,
Mair wise and honest, or in honour maist,
His ritches, quhilk he hes obteind by tred,
In wrang abuse, the same he will not waist:
He is baith wise, and of ane gud behaist,
For all his ofspring, wise folkis wont to be,
Sweit fruit, neid force, man tak ane plesant taist,
Quhilk dois proceid, out of ane plesant tre.
Mair wise and honest, or in honour maist,
His ritches, quhilk he hes obteind by tred,
In wrang abuse, the same he will not waist:
He is baith wise, and of ane gud behaist,
For all his ofspring, wise folkis wont to be,
Sweit fruit, neid force, man tak ane plesant taist,
Quhilk dois proceid, out of ane plesant tre.
The gud effects, quhilk children will consaiue,
Into thair naturis, plainly will appeir,
Oft times, the soun pretendis him we persaiue,
His fathers futsteps, for to follow neir:
Behauld, I se fair Galathea heir,
Stand nar the port, not far fra me abak,
Vnto my wourdis perchance, sche hes giuin eir,
And hard the wourdis and praises quhilk I spak.
Into thair naturis, plainly will appeir,
Oft times, the soun pretendis him we persaiue,
His fathers futsteps, for to follow neir:
Behauld, I se fair Galathea heir,
Stand nar the port, not far fra me abak,
Vnto my wourdis perchance, sche hes giuin eir,
And hard the wourdis and praises quhilk I spak.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
O Galathea, nane I beleiued to be,
So nar me heir, till harken at my hand,
Yit not the les, I haife not maid ane lie,
I spak the truth, as I occasioun fand:
Of Pamphilvs, this far I vnderstand,
All in this toun, he far excellis, I mene,
Weill he forseis, how his estait may stand,
And how he may an honest life sustene.
So nar me heir, till harken at my hand,
Yit not the les, I haife not maid ane lie,
I spak the truth, as I occasioun fand:
Of Pamphilvs, this far I vnderstand,
Weill he forseis, how his estait may stand,
And how he may an honest life sustene.
His laud and praise, may planely be espyd,
It daily growis, as we may weill persaue,
With na man, he is hatit or inuyd,
By iust occasioun hatrit to consaue:
Howbeid of ritches, he aboundance haue,
Yit pride into his persoun hes na place,
For Pamphilvs, surpassis all the laue,
Baith for his ritches, and his reuerent grace.
It daily growis, as we may weill persaue,
With na man, he is hatit or inuyd,
By iust occasioun hatrit to consaue:
Howbeid of ritches, he aboundance haue,
Yit pride into his persoun hes na place,
For Pamphilvs, surpassis all the laue,
Baith for his ritches, and his reuerent grace.
Now Galathea, I will tell to the,
I wald he war your husband maist derect,
Gif ye war wise, or culd your weill forse,
Ye wald desire, the same to take effect:
Howbeid my selfe, that marage wald erect,
Yit he himselfe, the same dois not consider,
Into my iudgement, surely I suspect,
That ye and he, ane meit match war togither.
I wald he war your husband maist derect,
Gif ye war wise, or culd your weill forse,
Ye wald desire, the same to take effect:
Howbeid my selfe, that marage wald erect,
Yit he himselfe, the same dois not consider,
Into my iudgement, surely I suspect,
That ye and he, ane meit match war togither.
Your kin, your clan, and clament naturis kind,
Togither with your bewties quhilk I se,
Makis me consent, and thinke into my mind,
That ye war meit, togither baith to be:
We baith driue ouer, and tins the tyme trewly,
With idill wourdis, quhilk we may be without,
Ane small occasioun, oftimes is the Kie,
That opins mirth, and makis the same spring out.
Togither with your bewties quhilk I se,
Makis me consent, and thinke into my mind,
That ye war meit, togither baith to be:
We baith driue ouer, and tins the tyme trewly,
With idill wourdis, quhilk we may be without,
Ane small occasioun, oftimes is the Kie,
That opins mirth, and makis the same spring out.
Ane ingill gret, with mekill fire and low,
Will oft proceid, bot of ane litle spaill,
Ane small beginning, engenders and gars grow,
Maist waichtie maters, of a gret auaill:
For to reuolfe in mind, I did not faill,
The inwart mening of thir things prolix,
In tyme quhen we suld had our purpos haill,
With wane consaitis the same we suld not mix.
Will oft proceid, bot of ane litle spaill,
Ane small beginning, engenders and gars grow,
Maist waichtie maters, of a gret auaill:
For to reuolfe in mind, I did not faill,
The inwart mening of thir things prolix,
With wane consaitis the same we suld not mix.
Gif in your mynd, na motioun yit be wrocht,
Nor in your hart, to bring this blok till end,
Quhidder It pleis you, or it pleis you nocht,
Tell furth the truthe, and speik quhat ye pretend:
And thairfoir tell, quhat purpos ye intend,
For na man sall, your sacreitis vnderstand,
I ether sall consceil, or mak it kend,
As it sall pleis you, for to gif commaund.
Nor in your hart, to bring this blok till end,
Quhidder It pleis you, or it pleis you nocht,
Tell furth the truthe, and speik quhat ye pretend:
And thairfoir tell, quhat purpos ye intend,
For na man sall, your sacreitis vnderstand,
I ether sall consceil, or mak it kend,
As it sall pleis you, for to gif commaund.
Stur not for till expel, this schame prophane,
Out of thy hart and mynd, that it may be,
Only this schame, proceidis I mak you plane,
Of rurall vse, and rusticalitie.
Out of thy hart and mynd, that it may be,
Only this schame, proceidis I mak you plane,
Of rurall vse, and rusticalitie.
Galathea speikis to Anus.
Rvdnes is not the caus, and circumstance,Nor yit dast schame makis to stay indeid,
Bot in my mynd, I maruel and I pance,
Quhairfra, your talk and speiking suld proceid:
I muse quhat caus, hes enterd in your heid,
To cum to me sic prasis to proclame,
Or gif that he hes promisid you gud deid,
To speik so largely, in his laud and fame.
Anus speikis to Galathea
The faltis quhilk wikit men dois interprise,
Impedis the deids of just men this is sure,
Oft tymes a man sustenes, and vnderlyis,
That pane the quhilk, his falt did not procure:
Albeid that I be indigent, and pure,
I seik not sic rewardis, my pains to pleis,
The present purtethe, quhilk I do indure,
Contentis my mind, and sets the same at eis.
Impedis the deids of just men this is sure,
Oft tymes a man sustenes, and vnderlyis,
That pane the quhilk, his falt did not procure:
Albeid that I be indigent, and pure,
I seik not sic rewardis, my pains to pleis,
The present purtethe, quhilk I do indure,
Fra the beginning, sen this block hes bene,
My mind consauid, how maters suld apeir,
Thair na man knawis, quhat talk, is vs betwene,
The giltie man, is not beside to heir:
This is sufficient, thairfore tak na feir,
Gif ye war baith, in wedlock bed at hame,
Then of this block, ye micht the burding beir,
Without reproch, ignominy, or schame.
My mind consauid, how maters suld apeir,
Thair na man knawis, quhat talk, is vs betwene,
The giltie man, is not beside to heir:
This is sufficient, thairfore tak na feir,
Gif ye war baith, in wedlock bed at hame,
Then of this block, ye micht the burding beir,
Without reproch, ignominy, or schame.
Honest is he, and nobill thair withall,
Into that samin stait, ye are aricht,
Your ofspring and your first originall,
Is kend to me, for I can count thame richt:
His nichbours he excellis in bewtie bricht,
And likwais ye excell aboue the laue,
Bewtie with bewtie, well agreis in sicht,
And plesant to the parties to persaue,
Into that samin stait, ye are aricht,
Your ofspring and your first originall,
Is kend to me, for I can count thame richt:
His nichbours he excellis in bewtie bricht,
And likwais ye excell aboue the laue,
Bewtie with bewtie, well agreis in sicht,
And plesant to the parties to persaue,
In age and geir alike, God hes you blist,
Quhilk is ane caus, this mater to compleit,
In cace the common brute, the samin wist,
Thay wald esteeme the marage to be meit:
Sen ye are like in properties contreit,
With richt and law, ye may be ioynd togither,
Betwixt you baith, thair na thing is forleit,
Bot onely lufe, as we may weill consider.
Quhilk is ane caus, this mater to compleit,
In cace the common brute, the samin wist,
Thay wald esteeme the marage to be meit:
Sen ye are like in properties contreit,
With richt and law, ye may be ioynd togither,
Betwixt you baith, thair na thing is forleit,
Bot onely lufe, as we may weill consider.
Galathea answers to Anus.
Concerning the conditioun ye requier,First to my frends, it suld bene tauld indeid,
By quhois consent and counsall I desier,
That this my marage fordwart suld proceid:
Then speik thy selfe, this mater to remeid,
Or els, let Pamphil speik, thair mind to heir,
And in the end, mair plesant sall apeir.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
To haue your frends consent, it dois behoue,
Before ye enter into that estait,
Bot in the mene time, furious flams of lufe,
Burns vp his breist, and haulds him at debait:
Ingenious lufe, steirs vp ane new consait,
Into the hartis of young adolescentis,
Sic as delites to studie in that rait,
May lessouns leir, concerning sic intentis.
Before ye enter into that estait,
Bot in the mene time, furious flams of lufe,
Burns vp his breist, and haulds him at debait:
Ingenious lufe, steirs vp ane new consait,
Into the hartis of young adolescentis,
Sic as delites to studie in that rait,
May lessouns leir, concerning sic intentis.
This steirs vp mindis, gret gifts to dele and skair,
Bot greid and auarice, it dois plane displeis,
It fallowis mirth and blithnes euer mair,
Bot be the contrar, it from sadnes fleis:
Na man can tell, pretend him as he pleis,
How mutch the vse of Venvs dois thame gud,
Ecept thou condiscend, to thir decreis,
Thou sall be reput rusticall and rud.
Bot greid and auarice, it dois plane displeis,
It fallowis mirth and blithnes euer mair,
Bot be the contrar, it from sadnes fleis:
Na man can tell, pretend him as he pleis,
How mutch the vse of Venvs dois thame gud,
Ecept thou condiscend, to thir decreis,
Thou sall be reput rusticall and rud.
Galathea answers to Anus.
Ane Damisell dois tine hir honour cleane,
In Venvs gamis, fra time sche schance to mel,
This ingent furie, and madnes as I mene,
Can haif na rewl or resoun of it sell:
The violent wapins, of king Cupid fell,
Hes na licht burdene as your selfis may se,
And damisellis ay, dreids the truth to tell,
With thir strang wapins, vinqueist for to be,
In Venvs gamis, fra time sche schance to mel,
This ingent furie, and madnes as I mene,
Can haif na rewl or resoun of it sell:
The violent wapins, of king Cupid fell,
Hes na licht burdene as your selfis may se,
And damisellis ay, dreids the truth to tell,
With thir strang wapins, vinqueist for to be,
Brute quhiles, with accusatioun will inquire,
Ane Damisell, quho dois deserfe na wite,
Inuy and malice, eaten vp in Ire,
Takis neuer rest all staitis for to bakbite:
Your awin petitioun, I suld sone acquite,
War not the comoun sclander, quhilk I feir,
Quhilk sclander oft procuris ane grit dispite,
And makis the parteis objectis till apeir.
Ane Damisell, quho dois deserfe na wite,
Inuy and malice, eaten vp in Ire,
Your awin petitioun, I suld sone acquite,
War not the comoun sclander, quhilk I feir,
Quhilk sclander oft procuris ane grit dispite,
And makis the parteis objectis till apeir.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
The richtuous brute takis mekil force and strenth,
And the effects, maist viuely dois display,
For veritie, sall ay preuail at lenth,
Bot wrangous brute, sall peresch and decay:
The comoun sclander, I sall stenche and stay,
And all your cair, and feir I sall abstract,
Ye and your spots, sall clokit be I say,
Be craft and moyen, quhilk I sall you mak.
And the effects, maist viuely dois display,
For veritie, sall ay preuail at lenth,
Bot wrangous brute, sall peresch and decay:
The comoun sclander, I sall stenche and stay,
And all your cair, and feir I sall abstract,
Ye and your spots, sall clokit be I say,
Be craft and moyen, quhilk I sall you mak.
Of Venvs vse, I vnderstand the cure,
Hir craft I ken, and can the same define,
Swa, sall the mater be maid saif and sure,
Quhilk is deuisid and wrocht be my ingine:
Counsall me how, my wourdis I suld incline,
To speik to Pamphil, quhen I se him sell,
That I may speik my wourdis the surer sine,
Quhilk ye before, informd me for to tell.
Hir craft I ken, and can the same define,
Swa, sall the mater be maid saif and sure,
Quhilk is deuisid and wrocht be my ingine:
Counsall me how, my wourdis I suld incline,
To speik to Pamphil, quhen I se him sell,
That I may speik my wourdis the surer sine,
Quhilk ye before, informd me for to tell.
Galathea speakis to Anus.
I feir to you, for to confes my cace,
Or yit, my secreit counsaill to declair,
For falset so abidis in euery place,
That folkis are oft tane captifis in the snair:
Yit sall I say, postponing all dispair,
Thy faith and toung, quhairwith thou dost procure,
To quhat intent, thy crafty art and cair,
Mot me seduce, with fair wourdis till allure.
Or yit, my secreit counsaill to declair,
For falset so abidis in euery place,
That folkis are oft tane captifis in the snair:
Yit sall I say, postponing all dispair,
Thy faith and toung, quhairwith thou dost procure,
To quhat intent, thy crafty art and cair,
Mot me seduce, with fair wourdis till allure.
Oft times I say, se thou him vrge and pres,
With sic assalts, as he may not repell,
Perchance himselfe, to the sal say no les,
Nor I haif said, in presence of thy sell:
Pas hence thy way, and in this mater mell,
Discreit and warly, I will the beseik,
That on the morne, thou may declair and tell,
Sic wourds, as it sall schance him for to speik.
With sic assalts, as he may not repell,
Perchance himselfe, to the sal say no les,
Nor I haif said, in presence of thy sell:
Pas hence thy way, and in this mater mell,
Discreit and warly, I will the beseik,
That on the morne, thou may declair and tell,
Sic wourds, as it sall schance him for to speik.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
Labour and hope, we may persaue indeid,
That mony men oft times it dois desaue,
Now Pamphile, the mater cums not speid,
Quhilk thou and I, baith wischis fain to haue:
Ye war ouer slaw, my counsall for to craue,
The time is tint, till make remeid to you,
Becaus the craft and cunning quhilk I haue,
Can profite na thing to support you now,
That mony men oft times it dois desaue,
Now Pamphile, the mater cums not speid,
Quhilk thou and I, baith wischis fain to haue:
Ye war ouer slaw, my counsall for to craue,
The time is tint, till make remeid to you,
Becaus the craft and cunning quhilk I haue,
Can profite na thing to support you now,
As maters schaws, and plainly dois declair,
Fair Galathis marage is aprotchen neir,
I muse quhat clething can be makand thair,
Hame in hir hous, agains that day to weir:
Ane hundreth causis euident and cleir,
Makis me suspect this mater to be sure,
Yit nocht the les, thocht all thir things apeir,
Hir Parents keipis it secreit and obscure.
Fair Galathis marage is aprotchen neir,
I muse quhat clething can be makand thair,
Hame in hir hous, agains that day to weir:
Ane hundreth causis euident and cleir,
Makis me suspect this mater to be sure,
Yit nocht the les, thocht all thir things apeir,
Hir Parents keipis it secreit and obscure.
Marke weill my wourdis, se thou thame not foryet,
And way thame wisely in thy mind I mene,
Seik neuer that, the quhilk thou may not get,
Bot seik thou that, the quhilk thou may obtene.
And way thame wisely in thy mind I mene,
Seik neuer that, the quhilk thou may not get,
Bot seik thou that, the quhilk thou may obtene.
Pamphilus answers to Anus.
Alas, how faids my strenth and strang estait,
That wont beforn vnto my corps aply,
My body now is brocht to sic estait,
That mind and toung, thair seruice dois deny:
I catif man, lichtly regardit by,
Hes tint my strength, quhilk na man can restore,
Eitch of my members, as ye may espy,
Denies thair dewties, done to me before.
That wont beforn vnto my corps aply,
That mind and toung, thair seruice dois deny:
I catif man, lichtly regardit by,
Hes tint my strength, quhilk na man can restore,
Eitch of my members, as ye may espy,
Denies thair dewties, done to me before.
My hope hes hurt me, far by mine intent,
By hope, lufe to my bains hes stucken sure,
Hope is decaid, and far away is went,
Yit firie flamis, with me dois still indure,
The sails quhairwith, my schip suld fordwart fure,
Can find na port, quhairin to be reset,
Nor yit my ancor, quhilk suld me assure,
Into the awin ground, can na entres get.
By hope, lufe to my bains hes stucken sure,
Hope is decaid, and far away is went,
Yit firie flamis, with me dois still indure,
The sails quhairwith, my schip suld fordwart fure,
Can find na port, quhairin to be reset,
Nor yit my ancor, quhilk suld me assure,
Into the awin ground, can na entres get.
My cair is na wais certaine, quhat to do,
Nor quhair to seik, the awin support or rest,
For Galathea is the onely scho,
That may remeid, my cair and dolour best:
Sche is the caus, and wite, as ye may trest,
Of helth and life, belanging vnto me,
Quhome, gif I get not, plainely I protest,
Into displeasour, I will duyne and die.
Nor quhair to seik, the awin support or rest,
For Galathea is the onely scho,
That may remeid, my cair and dolour best:
Sche is the caus, and wite, as ye may trest,
Of helth and life, belanging vnto me,
Quhome, gif I get not, plainely I protest,
Into displeasour, I will duyne and die.
Anus answers Pamphilus.
Daft Pamphile, quhat madnes mouis thy heid?
Or quhat the mouis, so sore for to complene,
Thy murning teirs, can make the na remeid,
Nor na rewardis, thairby thou can obtene:
Lat modestie and wisedome the sustene,
And gyde thy teirs, but farther brute or din,
From farther teirs, I pray the purge thy ene,
And wisely way, quhat thou may do thairin.
Or quhat the mouis, so sore for to complene,
Thy murning teirs, can make the na remeid,
Nor na rewardis, thairby thou can obtene:
Lat modestie and wisedome the sustene,
And gyde thy teirs, but farther brute or din,
From farther teirs, I pray the purge thy ene,
And wisely way, quhat thou may do thairin.
Quhiles pouerty espiers vpon pretence,
Ane michtie spreit, to make the awin remeid,
For oftimes purteth, and gret indigence,
Makis ane maist cunning craftsman, into neid:
The cairfull craft of man, cums oftimes speid,
Orecumming perrils, tending to gret tort,
Perschance your cair, and deligent craft indeid,
Into the mater, may you yit support.
For oftimes purteth, and gret indigence,
Makis ane maist cunning craftsman, into neid:
The cairfull craft of man, cums oftimes speid,
Orecumming perrils, tending to gret tort,
Perschance your cair, and deligent craft indeid,
Into the mater, may you yit support.
Pamphilus speikis to Anus.
Qvhat pain allas, now can orecum at last,
This michty perrill, of it selfe so grand,
My hope and esperance, perischis maist fast,
Seing hir day of marage, is at hand:
Sche will not marry me, thocht I command,
So lang as hir gudman, with life is led,
The crime is odious, as I vnderstand,
For to polute or file the lawfull bed.
This michty perrill, of it selfe so grand,
My hope and esperance, perischis maist fast,
Seing hir day of marage, is at hand:
Sche will not marry me, thocht I command,
So lang as hir gudman, with life is led,
The crime is odious, as I vnderstand,
For to polute or file the lawfull bed.
The trauell, quhairinto I did confide,
Is brocht to nocht, but ony finell end,
My cair hes lost, the hail support and ayd,
Of the awin cair, quhairon it did attend:
No nicht nor day, sall succour to me send,
Nor grant me rest, my helth for to restore,
I catif man, am troublit to the end,
With lufe innane, quhilk me molestis maist sore.
Is brocht to nocht, but ony finell end,
My cair hes lost, the hail support and ayd,
Of the awin cair, quhairon it did attend:
No nicht nor day, sall succour to me send,
Nor grant me rest, my helth for to restore,
I catif man, am troublit to the end,
With lufe innane, quhilk me molestis maist sore.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
Oft times, gret dolour cesis and grows les,
Intill ane schort time, as apeirs maist plane,
Gret blastis of wind, dois minisch and decres,
Be vertew of ane sobur schour of rane:
Ane fair day is excepit to remane,
Efter scharp schours, and blaistis that be so rud,
And helth is als, exceptabill agane,
Efter sore sicknes, and gret egritude.
Intill ane schort time, as apeirs maist plane,
Gret blastis of wind, dois minisch and decres,
Be vertew of ane sobur schour of rane:
Ane fair day is excepit to remane,
Efter scharp schours, and blaistis that be so rud,
And helth is als, exceptabill agane,
Ane wantoun curage, thou neidest now resaue,
All dolour and anger, far fra you mot bide,
Gret mirth and ioy, in mind thou sall consaue,
Quhilk mot remoue thy sadnes all aside:
In Galathae, this mutch thou may confyd,
Thy haill desire, sche na wais will gainstand,
Sche hes giuin ouer hirselfe to me to gyd,
Sche is so subiect vnto my command.
All dolour and anger, far fra you mot bide,
Gret mirth and ioy, in mind thou sall consaue,
Quhilk mot remoue thy sadnes all aside:
In Galathae, this mutch thou may confyd,
Thy haill desire, sche na wais will gainstand,
Sche hes giuin ouer hirselfe to me to gyd,
Sche is so subiect vnto my command.
Pamphilus answers to Anus.
As louing mothers, with gret craft and skeill,
Makis false promits, with flatring wourds & fair
Admonising thair children to be still,
And not to greit, nor for to murne na mair:
Perchance, the counterpane, ye wald prepair,
With feinit comfort, me to feid and feist,
That dolour micht remaine with me na mair,
Bot suld depart out of my cairfull breist.
Makis false promits, with flatring wourds & fair
Admonising thair children to be still,
And not to greit, nor for to murne na mair:
Perchance, the counterpane, ye wald prepair,
With feinit comfort, me to feid and feist,
That dolour micht remaine with me na mair,
Bot suld depart out of my cairfull breist.
Anus answers Pamphilus.
Ane sillie foul, that hes escapit neir,
From the halkis clukis, that gredy is but grace,
This foul heirefter ay remainis in feir,
Dreding, that he suld hant in euery place,
Nocht hes me mouid, my tail for to disgrace,
To lie to you, in ony kind of kew,
That quhilk I haif declaird into this cace,
Sall ay be found, baith vpright, trest and trew.
From the halkis clukis, that gredy is but grace,
This foul heirefter ay remainis in feir,
Dreding, that he suld hant in euery place,
Nocht hes me mouid, my tail for to disgrace,
To lie to you, in ony kind of kew,
That quhilk I haif declaird into this cace,
Sall ay be found, baith vpright, trest and trew.
Pamphilus speakis to Anus.
Gif that ye tell, the veritie to me,
And that sche likwais, sic things did confar,
The dolour quhilk I presently do drie,
Out of my mynd sall be remouid rycht far:
Oftimes the end of maters, stikis a star,
And fallous not, the awin begining frake,
Fortune I say, so kittill is and skar,
The wark begun, sche hynders and putis bake.
And that sche likwais, sic things did confar,
Out of my mynd sall be remouid rycht far:
Oftimes the end of maters, stikis a star,
And fallous not, the awin begining frake,
Fortune I say, so kittill is and skar,
The wark begun, sche hynders and putis bake.
Anus answers to Pamphilus
Na mynd of man, is abill to intent,
The fatall cours of destaine to foreschaw,
It proper is to God omnipotent,
The future things, for till declair and schaw:
For to dispair, gret hurt, it dois ondraw,
Botident labor, gettis the haill desire,
Ane walkrife craft, with diligence ye knaw,
Prouidis mutch ritchis, with gret welth and hire.
The fatall cours of destaine to foreschaw,
It proper is to God omnipotent,
The future things, for till declair and schaw:
For to dispair, gret hurt, it dois ondraw,
Botident labor, gettis the haill desire,
Ane walkrife craft, with diligence ye knaw,
Prouidis mutch ritchis, with gret welth and hire.
Pamphilus speakis to Anus.
Hope, vnder doutfull schance, dois fleit and flow,Vnder the same, all thingis we do resaue,
Yit not the les, hope dois acres and grow,
Vnder ane gud beginning, I persaue:
Can ye not ken, nor na cognoscens haue,
Quhither that sche dois lufe me ill or weill,
Lufe, scarse can hide, or quietly behaue,
The inwart hart, the quhilk it suld conseill.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
Qvhen vnto hir of you report I mak,
Hir mynd and will, I find to be discreit,
Vnto my talk, sche dois attendence tak,
In modrat maner, quhilk apeiris maist sweit:
With tender wourds, sche dois me ay intreit,
And me imbraces, round about the neck,
Requeisting me, for to tell and repeit,
Those wourdis, the quhilk ye till hir did derect,
Hir mynd and will, I find to be discreit,
Vnto my talk, sche dois attendence tak,
In modrat maner, quhilk apeiris maist sweit:
With tender wourds, sche dois me ay intreit,
And me imbraces, round about the neck,
Those wourdis, the quhilk ye till hir did derect,
Quhen that occasioun, can it self present,
To nominat your name, in ony sort,
Sche standis into ane gret astonisment,
Quhen of the samyn, sche dois heir report:
And quhen of you, we chance to speik or sport,
Quhillis sche growis rid, quhilis pail, as sche wer seik,
Quhen I keip silence, sche will me exort,
And me command, that I againe suld speik.
To nominat your name, in ony sort,
Sche standis into ane gret astonisment,
Quhen of the samyn, sche dois heir report:
And quhen of you, we chance to speik or sport,
Quhillis sche growis rid, quhilis pail, as sche wer seik,
Quhen I keip silence, sche will me exort,
And me command, that I againe suld speik.
Be thir conditiouns, I consider best,
And kens hir lufe, how that it is menteind,
To me sche hes baith grantit, and confest,
That sche to you, is ane maist faythful frend.
And kens hir lufe, how that it is menteind,
To me sche hes baith grantit, and confest,
That sche to you, is ane maist faythful frend.
Pamphilus speakis to Anus.
My hope and esperance, now persauis and seis,
By you, that my gud fortoun did befall,
My hapines growis vp, and fructifeis,
By your assistance, and suport withall:
Maist doutsum actis, that be both gret and tall,
By labour gret, ar stop and stayd we se,
Ane Idil craft, makis bot ane wantage small,
And bringis bot in, ane clane commoditie.
By you, that my gud fortoun did befall,
My hapines growis vp, and fructifeis,
By your assistance, and suport withall:
Maist doutsum actis, that be both gret and tall,
By labour gret, ar stop and stayd we se,
Ane Idil craft, makis bot ane wantage small,
And bringis bot in, ane clane commoditie.
Haist and auance, in so far as thou may,
The wark begun, quhilk yet in hasert stikis,
That na sueir tarie, thy turne stop or stay,
Quhilk may delay, or yet the same prolix.
The wark begun, quhilk yet in hasert stikis,
That na sueir tarie, thy turne stop or stay,
Quhilk may delay, or yet the same prolix.
Anus answers Pamphilus.
As I beleiue, behauld before the strecht,
Your hail desier, quhilk is prepard I mene,
Bot yet the thing, quhilk ye vnto me hecht,
Remains in dout, gif it I sall obtene:
Oft tymes our myndis, ganestands, & contrairs clene,
That quhilk we speik, and plainly dois expres,
We fallow not our deids, as may be sene,
Conforme vnto the promeis we profes.
Your hail desier, quhilk is prepard I mene,
Bot yet the thing, quhilk ye vnto me hecht,
Oft tymes our myndis, ganestands, & contrairs clene,
That quhilk we speik, and plainly dois expres,
We fallow not our deids, as may be sene,
Conforme vnto the promeis we profes.
Fals promissis, begillis the gyft and hyer,
Of work quhilk suld be sauld, and changit sine,
Quhen ye grow ritche, and gettis your haill desier,
Perchance with na thing, ye will me propyne.
Of work quhilk suld be sauld, and changit sine,
Quhen ye grow ritche, and gettis your haill desier,
Perchance with na thing, ye will me propyne.
Pamphilus answers to Anus
To ane ritch man, it is ane falt maist vile,
To trumpe ane pure man, of his gift and clame,
Gif of your salire, I suld you begile,
To be vnhonnest, I suld win ane name:
The wourdis quhilk I, out of my mouth did frame,
You nor na vther, na tyme hes disauid,
Quhen that ye pleis, to speir my brute and fame,
Into the same, na spote sall be persauid.
To trumpe ane pure man, of his gift and clame,
Gif of your salire, I suld you begile,
To be vnhonnest, I suld win ane name:
The wourdis quhilk I, out of my mouth did frame,
You nor na vther, na tyme hes disauid,
Quhen that ye pleis, to speir my brute and fame,
Into the same, na spote sall be persauid.
My faith is constant, still for til indure,
And als my promeis, vpricht and senceir,
Quhilk faith anexis, and makis those thingis sure,
Quhilk to be vnperformd, ye dreid and feir.
And als my promeis, vpricht and senceir,
Quhilk faith anexis, and makis those thingis sure,
Quhilk to be vnperformd, ye dreid and feir.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
The common pepill feirs, be the ingins,
Of michtie men, orecumid and tane to be,
The pure mans richt, oftimes fallis doun and tins,
Throw small support, and wanting of supplie:
Faith in all pairts, is spoild as ye se,
Of hir fair hew, and colour of pleasant price,
Quhilk couert is, with mony craftis so slie,
All subiect vnto wickidnes and vice.
Of michtie men, orecumid and tane to be,
The pure mans richt, oftimes fallis doun and tins,
Throw small support, and wanting of supplie:
Faith in all pairts, is spoild as ye se,
Of hir fair hew, and colour of pleasant price,
Quhilk couert is, with mony craftis so slie,
All subiect vnto wickidnes and vice.
Na chance or fortoun, may gainstand or weir,
Agains the fatall destain from aboue,
Oft times the Sea, puts mony folkis in feir,
Yit not the les, na danger will thame moue:
I will commit, to fortunis a win behoue,
That gift the quhilk, ye did vnto me grant,
Gif I haife promisd ony gift, forsuth,
Yit not the les, the same, ye sall not want.
Agains the fatall destain from aboue,
Oft times the Sea, puts mony folkis in feir,
Yit not the les, na danger will thame moue:
I will commit, to fortunis a win behoue,
That gift the quhilk, ye did vnto me grant,
Gif I haife promisd ony gift, forsuth,
Yit not the les, the same, ye sall not want.
It me behouis, from hence for to reteir,
For till intise the las vnto this fact,
Gif that it be hir plesour to cum heir,
Ane quhile with you, for to confer and crak:
Gif that the paine and trauell, quhilk I tak,
Assembill you togither, se that than,
As time may serue, and ye may moyen mak,
Luke that ye do the dewtie of a man.
For till intise the las vnto this fact,
Gif that it be hir plesour to cum heir,
Ane quhile with you, for to confer and crak:
Gif that the paine and trauell, quhilk I tak,
Assembill you togither, se that than,
As time may serue, and ye may moyen mak,
Luke that ye do the dewtie of a man.
The mindis of lufers, are ay out of rime,
And bydis vnconstant presen till espier,
Ane schort hour, or occasioun at ane time,
May giue the that, the quhilk thou dois desire.
And bydis vnconstant presen till espier,
Ane schort hour, or occasioun at ane time,
May giue the that, the quhilk thou dois desire.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
Ane michty fire, can not remoue aside,
The licht, quhilk from the flamis dois gleme & sprout,
Nather can Venvs occultat or hide,
The awin desire, bot it behouis brek out:
The ordour of your maters round about,
To me are patent, as thame selfes apeirs,
Of quhilk things, quhen in mind I think or dout,
I scarcely can contene my selfe from teirs.
The licht, quhilk from the flamis dois gleme & sprout,
Nather can Venvs occultat or hide,
The awin desire, bot it behouis brek out:
The ordour of your maters round about,
To me are patent, as thame selfes apeirs,
Of quhilk things, quhen in mind I think or dout,
I scarcely can contene my selfe from teirs.
I knaw perfitly, as it war perqueir,
That ye twa lufis, not wisely nor derect,
The maters selfe, makis manifest and cleir,
The awin daft, and fulisch vaine effect:
The visage pale, declairs as I collect,
The quiet lufe, quhairwith the hart is greuid,
Baith hyd and hew, will alter and infect,
Without the same, with labour be releuid,
That ye twa lufis, not wisely nor derect,
The maters selfe, makis manifest and cleir,
The visage pale, declairs as I collect,
The quiet lufe, quhairwith the hart is greuid,
Baith hyd and hew, will alter and infect,
Without the same, with labour be releuid,
Pure Pamphilvs remains maist catif now,
In that estait, all hours abidis he so,
With ansers hard, his hart is persit throw,
That he molestit is, with greif and wo:
Baith nicht and day, vnwisely he dois go,
Wirken in wane, with labour all forlorne,
Hard manurid land, deliuers not it fro,
Gret store of seid, efter the same be schorne.
In that estait, all hours abidis he so,
With ansers hard, his hart is persit throw,
That he molestit is, with greif and wo:
Baith nicht and day, vnwisely he dois go,
Wirken in wane, with labour all forlorne,
Hard manurid land, deliuers not it fro,
Gret store of seid, efter the same be schorne.
Quha bot a mad man, of a wode degre,
Will seminat his seid, into the sand,
Wark vsis, mair acceptabill to be,
Quhilk bringis the gift, with the reward in hand:
Your bewtie first desaiuid him, quhilk he fand,
And secondly, your toung so smooth and ticht,
Stark lufe, hes woundit him, with Cupids brand,
To wit, your lufe bot, and your bewtie bricht.
Will seminat his seid, into the sand,
Wark vsis, mair acceptabill to be,
Quhilk bringis the gift, with the reward in hand:
Your bewtie first desaiuid him, quhilk he fand,
And secondly, your toung so smooth and ticht,
Stark lufe, hes woundit him, with Cupids brand,
To wit, your lufe bot, and your bewtie bricht.
Your helpe on him, ye promisd to bestow,
Bot yit his maladie, ye did not meis,
Quhairof, oft times sensine, on him did flow,
The greter dolor, and the mair diseis:
His sicknes wantis support, as all men seis,
And paine augmentis, without remorse or rufe,
Thocht ye your selfe, keip silence with gret eis,
Yit are ye hurt, with firie flamis of lufe.
Bot yit his maladie, ye did not meis,
Quhairof, oft times sensine, on him did flow,
The greter dolor, and the mair diseis:
His sicknes wantis support, as all men seis,
And paine augmentis, without remorse or rufe,
Thocht ye your selfe, keip silence with gret eis,
Yit are ye hurt, with firie flamis of lufe.
Lufe quhilk is keipit secreit, and conceild,
Bringis dolent deith, and als ane deidly hort,
And lufe I mene, quhilk na wais is reueild,
To baith your persouns, perrill dois import:
Consider than, with mind delibrat schort,
Quhat is your will, your mind for to content,
That this your speich, quhilk to me ye report,
May be ane takin, of your haill intent.
Bringis dolent deith, and als ane deidly hort,
And lufe I mene, quhilk na wais is reueild,
To baith your persouns, perrill dois import:
Quhat is your will, your mind for to content,
That this your speich, quhilk to me ye report,
May be ane takin, of your haill intent.
Galathea answers to Anus.
Oftimes, dame Venvs, thristis my corps maist pureWith firie wapins, quhilk are maist seueir,
And sche with strenth, prouidis me euer sure,
Commanding me in lufe, to perseueir:
Bot be the contrair, schamfastnes and feir,
Bids me behaife me honestlie and weill.
I being mouid, with thir twa things inteir,
Of my awin counsall, I can haife na feill.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
Far from thy mind, lat all this feir be tane,
Thair is na caus, of feir the till offend,
Considring, that thair sall be neuer nane,
This mater to make manifest and kend:
Now Pamphilvs, dois daily him pretend,
To be your husband, gif ye wald proceid,
His cair and labour, halily is tend,
How to performe this purpose intill speid.
Thair is na caus, of feir the till offend,
Considring, that thair sall be neuer nane,
This mater to make manifest and kend:
Now Pamphilvs, dois daily him pretend,
To be your husband, gif ye wald proceid,
His cair and labour, halily is tend,
How to performe this purpose intill speid.
A thousand wais, behauiour schaws me more,
The ardent lufe, quhilk in him dois acres,
Quhen he lamentis, with murning teirs maist sore,
Thir wourdis to me he plainly dois expres:
Sche is to me, baith dolour and distres,
And als sche is remeder of my paine,
Onely sche may, me wound I will confes,
And quhen sche pleis, sche may me pance againe.
The ardent lufe, quhilk in him dois acres,
Quhen he lamentis, with murning teirs maist sore,
Thir wourdis to me he plainly dois expres:
Sche is to me, baith dolour and distres,
And als sche is remeder of my paine,
Onely sche may, me wound I will confes,
And quhen sche pleis, sche may me pance againe.
The pitie, quhilk on Pamphilvs I had,
Compeld my eis with teirs to be oprest,
Yit not the les, I was reioysd and glad,
Into my mind, with quietnes and rest:
To se all things proceiding for the best,
And as I wischit, the mater for to strike,
I knew that ye, brunt baith into wanrest,
With equall fire, inflaming you alike.
Yit not the les, I was reioysd and glad,
Into my mind, with quietnes and rest:
To se all things proceiding for the best,
And as I wischit, the mater for to strike,
I knew that ye, brunt baith into wanrest,
With equall fire, inflaming you alike.
The flame ay vsis, hurtfull for to be,
Thairfoir, forse your selfis, now hereintill,
Wald God, lufe wald commit you baith to me,
Els at the leist, at my consent and will.
Thairfoir, forse your selfis, now hereintill,
Wald God, lufe wald commit you baith to me,
Els at the leist, at my consent and will.
Galathea answers to Anus.
That quhilk ye seik, I wisch with full intent,
For in the warld, nocht deirer is to me,
Prouiding baith, my Parents wald consent,
And to the samin, condiscend and gre:
I dare not do thir things, as ye may se,
Nor yit, thay lie not in my hands alace,
Howbeid, we twa, togither wald agre,
Thair is no part conuenient for this cace.
For in the warld, nocht deirer is to me,
Prouiding baith, my Parents wald consent,
And to the samin, condiscend and gre:
I dare not do thir things, as ye may se,
Nor yit, thay lie not in my hands alace,
Howbeid, we twa, togither wald agre,
Thair is no part conuenient for this cace.
My mother, quho consauid me in hir wame,
My keiper is, so mutch of me sche makis,
And likwais all our family at hame,
Baith nicht and day, attendence on me takis.
My keiper is, so mutch of me sche makis,
And likwais all our family at hame,
Baith nicht and day, attendence on me takis.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
Ingenious lufe, with sic a force dois cum,
It oppins ports, and clausters with a swak,
Swa ardent lufe, dois vinqueis and orecum,
All quhilk may hinder, or impeichment mak:
Lat your vaine feir, fra you be put abak,
And mend your barnly maners, maist prophane,
Sweit lufe exhortis you, iornie for to tak,
Hame to my hous, with me for to remaine.
It oppins ports, and clausters with a swak,
Swa ardent lufe, dois vinqueis and orecum,
All quhilk may hinder, or impeichment mak:
Lat your vaine feir, fra you be put abak,
And mend your barnly maners, maist prophane,
Hame to my hous, with me for to remaine.
Galathea speakis to Anus.
Ye are maid priuie, of my inwart hart,
And als my secreit thochts, ye do resaue,
Ye are the portioun, and the gretest part,
Of this my counsail, quhilk I do consaue:
I the exhort, and als of the I craue,
Thy faithfull counsail, for to giue so fre,
So that heirefter, thou na schame may haue,
In giuing consultatioun vnto me.
And als my secreit thochts, ye do resaue,
Ye are the portioun, and the gretest part,
Of this my counsail, quhilk I do consaue:
I the exhort, and als of the I craue,
Thy faithfull counsail, for to giue so fre,
So that heirefter, thou na schame may haue,
In giuing consultatioun vnto me.
Before the Lord, it is a greuous sin,
For to disaue pure virgins with defame,
For be thy counsail, thou may honour win,
And be the same, thou may resaue gret schame.
For to disaue pure virgins with defame,
For be thy counsail, thou may honour win,
And be the same, thou may resaue gret schame.
Anus speakis to Galathea.
I shameles wife, sall couer and cast by,
The sclandrous brute, that hereon may ensew,
My doings sall auow, and not deny,
The counsall quhilk, I to you gaue so trew:
Gif ony man wald to me haue reskew,
Or yit agains me argument sustene,
Than lat him speik, and plainly me persew,
Gif in this mater, I haue hurtfull bene.
The sclandrous brute, that hereon may ensew,
My doings sall auow, and not deny,
The counsall quhilk, I to you gaue so trew:
Gif ony man wald to me haue reskew,
Or yit agains me argument sustene,
Than lat him speik, and plainly me persew,
Gif in this mater, I haue hurtfull bene.
And lat him cum, with all his haill ingine,
With all his force, to striue agains me strang,
That being win, he may keip silence sine,
Or els away with victorie to gang:
Incontinent, gud resoun vs amang,
Mot make him sone, to me to condiscend,
Swa, that be resoun, he mot speik na wrang,
Nor in my contrair, na wais to contend.
With all his force, to striue agains me strang,
That being win, he may keip silence sine,
Or els away with victorie to gang:
Incontinent, gud resoun vs amang,
Mot make him sone, to me to condiscend,
Swa, that be resoun, he mot speik na wrang,
He is baith gud, and of gret clan I say,
And very ritch, as ye may heir report,
Sweit lufe I mene, and amitie for ay,
Mot be ane part, of our helpe and support:
The fame mot be maid still for to be schort,
Togither with ill brute, quhilk bringis a blame,
This mater hes, the awin way and resort,
Without respect of oprobrie or schame.
And very ritch, as ye may heir report,
Sweit lufe I mene, and amitie for ay,
Mot be ane part, of our helpe and support:
The fame mot be maid still for to be schort,
Togither with ill brute, quhilk bringis a blame,
This mater hes, the awin way and resort,
Without respect of oprobrie or schame.
Galathea answers to Anus.
In how faill parts, O God that sits abufe,
Are lufers mindis, transportit euer mair,
Quhilk mindis with feir and firie flamis of lufe,
Baith to and fro, are tostit heir and thair:
Thir diuers troubils, driuis me to dispair,
And nicht and day, dois put me out of tone,
That thing, quhilk lufe likis best, with earnest cair,
That thing, vaine feir, forbids for to be done.
Are lufers mindis, transportit euer mair,
Quhilk mindis with feir and firie flamis of lufe,
Baith to and fro, are tostit heir and thair:
Thir diuers troubils, driuis me to dispair,
And nicht and day, dois put me out of tone,
That thing, quhilk lufe likis best, with earnest cair,
That thing, vaine feir, forbids for to be done.
It na wais waits, quhat it suld titest do,
Into the wrang way, wauering far agast,
It ers and wauers, and throw wauering to,
It nutrefies the wound of lufe at last:
Lufe me subdews, vnto it selfe maist fast,
Agains the same, albeid I striue and stray,
Lufe burns me vp, with mony biter blast,
The mair that I the samin disobay.
Into the wrang way, wauering far agast,
It ers and wauers, and throw wauering to,
It nutrefies the wound of lufe at last:
Lufe me subdews, vnto it selfe maist fast,
Agains the same, albeid I striue and stray,
Lufe burns me vp, with mony biter blast,
The mair that I the samin disobay.
I vexit am, and with wo wereit eik,
With wark inane, quhilk dois my body greiue,
All wobegone, this meikill I will speik,
I rather die, nor in this stait to leiue:
With wark inane, quhilk dois my body greiue,
All wobegone, this meikill I will speik,
I rather die, nor in this stait to leiue:
Anus speakis to Galathea.
Like as the greter fier will adres,
And be the motioun of it selfe arise,
And as the greter anger will acres,
Venvs gainstanding to thair interprise:
Swa Venvs, hurtfull till hir awin asise,
With hir awin weir, vprises to make tene,
And nurischis the woundis, efter hir gise,
Strife, being maid agains hir selfe I mene.
And be the motioun of it selfe arise,
And as the greter anger will acres,
Venvs gainstanding to thair interprise:
Swa Venvs, hurtfull till hir awin asise,
With hir awin weir, vprises to make tene,
And nurischis the woundis, efter hir gise,
Strife, being maid agains hir selfe I mene.
Ye may not than, with weir as ye may se,
Extingueis or put out the flamis that fleis,
Your fier sall, the mutch mair meker be,
Conioynd with pece, the samin for to meis:
Obay dame Venvs, in hir haill decreis,
Quhile as ye are hir weriour keipit clos,
That all your strife and labour of waneis,
Redound not to your domage, skaith and los.
Extingueis or put out the flamis that fleis,
Your fier sall, the mutch mair meker be,
Conioynd with pece, the samin for to meis:
Obay dame Venvs, in hir haill decreis,
Quhile as ye are hir weriour keipit clos,
That all your strife and labour of waneis,
Redound not to your domage, skaith and los.
Daft woman, quhy do ye so rashly go,
To tine your life, all plesours til expell,
The hurtfull error, ocupeis you so,
Destroying baith your bodie, and your sell:
The visage of your frend ye spie and spell,
Howbeid, that he be absent out of place,
And he no les in mind, as I heir tell,
Baith nicht and day, behaulds your fragrant face.
To tine your life, all plesours til expell,
The hurtfull error, ocupeis you so,
Destroying baith your bodie, and your sell:
The visage of your frend ye spie and spell,
Howbeid, that he be absent out of place,
And he no les in mind, as I heir tell,
Baith nicht and day, behaulds your fragrant face.
Ilk ane of you, till vther makis a sing,
Setting your eis, ane in the vthers face,
Quhilk thing, sal deith, to baith your persouns bring
Belang delay, prolonging time and space:
I trow ye trauell lichtly, bot alace,
This cairfull mater, for to meis and mend,
Bot cruell deith, sall cum and cut this cace,
And to your strife, sall schortly put ane end.
Setting your eis, ane in the vthers face,
Quhilk thing, sal deith, to baith your persouns bring
Belang delay, prolonging time and space:
I trow ye trauell lichtly, bot alace,
This cairfull mater, for to meis and mend,
Bot cruell deith, sall cum and cut this cace,
Into thy youth, tak vp ane wantoun tred,
And all thy flechly pleasours, se thou feid,
Blythe hairtis, with blythenes aucht for to be fed,
For it becums, so for to do indeid:
Cum you allone, and play with me in speid,
Ane litill space, your spreit for to renewe,
Hame in our hous, ye sall haif meikill meid,
Quhair nutis, and apillis, ye sall get anewe.
And all thy flechly pleasours, se thou feid,
Blythe hairtis, with blythenes aucht for to be fed,
For it becums, so for to do indeid:
Cum you allone, and play with me in speid,
Ane litill space, your spreit for to renewe,
Hame in our hous, ye sall haif meikill meid,
Quhair nutis, and apillis, ye sall get anewe.
My hous wes neuer emptie, yet of meit,
Nor yit of frute, for to gif folkis thair fill,
Quhairof ye bauldly, may injoy or eit,
At your awin plesour, apetite and will:
Quhat man is yon, that knokis so stoutlie still,
And mouis our duris, with duntis, and callis so kene,
It wes a man or ellis the wind so schill,
Bot I belief, that it sum man hes bene.
Nor yit of frute, for to gif folkis thair fill,
Quhairof ye bauldly, may injoy or eit,
At your awin plesour, apetite and will:
Quhat man is yon, that knokis so stoutlie still,
And mouis our duris, with duntis, and callis so kene,
It wes a man or ellis the wind so schill,
Bot I belief, that it sum man hes bene.
Behauld it is a man, as I consaue,
Out at ane hole, he spyis vs wondrous leil,
Now Pamphilvs, it is as I persaue,
As be his visage, I ken wondrous weill:
The lock he opins, with gret craft and skeill,
And pece and pece the same, with force dois prime,
Intill vs heir, he quyetlie can steill,
I speik na mair, now at this present tyme.
Out at ane hole, he spyis vs wondrous leil,
Now Pamphilvs, it is as I persaue,
As be his visage, I ken wondrous weill:
The lock he opins, with gret craft and skeill,
And pece and pece the same, with force dois prime,
Intill vs heir, he quyetlie can steill,
I speik na mair, now at this present tyme.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
O furious man, quhy ar ye bent and boun,
To brek the zettis, of thir our houses heir,
With violence, our duris quhy brek ye doun,
Quhilk with my money, I haif coft so deir:
Quhat wald ye, or quhois message do ye beir,
Or quhat comissioun, bring ye, speik it plane,
Gif ye haife ony thing to speik or speir,
Speik haistily, and you returne againe.
To brek the zettis, of thir our houses heir,
With violence, our duris quhy brek ye doun,
Quhilk with my money, I haif coft so deir:
Quhat wald ye, or quhois message do ye beir,
Or quhat comissioun, bring ye, speik it plane,
Speik haistily, and you returne againe.
Pamphilus heir imbracis Galathea.
O Galathæ, aboue all things I say,
Thou art my helth, quhilk to me dois belang,
Gif me ane thousand kisses, I the pray,
Sen for thy lufe, I lukit haife so lang:
My ardent lufe, sall not decay nor gang,
Throuch kisses, that betwixt vs twa hes bene,
B[illeg.] sall grow, the starker and mair strang,
Be plesant plais, and merry mowis, I mene..
Thou art my helth, quhilk to me dois belang,
Gif me ane thousand kisses, I the pray,
Sen for thy lufe, I lukit haife so lang:
My ardent lufe, sall not decay nor gang,
Throuch kisses, that betwixt vs twa hes bene,
B[illeg.] sall grow, the starker and mair strang,
Be plesant plais, and merry mowis, I mene..
Behold I do imbrace, with stomack stout,
My haill delite, and plesour maist compleit,
And als I do complex, the corps about,
Of my trew lufe, to me maist deir and sweit:
Ane happie chance, maid me with you to meit,
Gud fortoun als, my footsteps did adres,
For quhy, this place, conteinis the thing contreit,
Quhilk I lufe best, ouer all things mair or les,
My haill delite, and plesour maist compleit,
And als I do complex, the corps about,
Of my trew lufe, to me maist deir and sweit:
Ane happie chance, maid me with you to meit,
Gud fortoun als, my footsteps did adres,
For quhy, this place, conteinis the thing contreit,
Quhilk I lufe best, ouer all things mair or les,
Anus speakis to Galathea.
My nichbour me incallis, as you may heir,
I will hir speik, and sine returne richt snell,
For grittumlie forsoth, I dreid and feir,
That to my hous, sche sall cum in hir sell:
I do draw neir, quhat gars you cry so fell,
I steik the dures, that I may fordwart fure,
Nane heir remains, the truth to you I tell,
Except the hous it selfe, I you assure.
I will hir speik, and sine returne richt snell,
For grittumlie forsoth, I dreid and feir,
That to my hous, sche sall cum in hir sell:
I do draw neir, quhat gars you cry so fell,
I steik the dures, that I may fordwart fure,
Nane heir remains, the truth to you I tell,
Except the hous it selfe, I you assure.
The turns me stops, quhilk I am subiect to,
Tell quhat ye wald, thocht it be richt or wrang,
Sic bissines and turns, I haife ado,
Far gait with you, indeid I may not gang.
Tell quhat ye wald, thocht it be richt or wrang,
Sic bissines and turns, I haife ado,
Pamphilus speakis to Galathea.
Behold how lufe so hiely dois exceid,
Young plesant plant, maist prudent and perfite,
Constraining vs to foster, and to feid,
Our hairtis with sportis, and plais of gret delyte,
Behold how wantoun Venvs, hes the wyte,
Compelling vs, hir plesours till espier,
And vs commandis, to tak our apetite,
Into that thing, quhilk lufers dois desier.
Young plesant plant, maist prudent and perfite,
Constraining vs to foster, and to feid,
Our hairtis with sportis, and plais of gret delyte,
Behold how wantoun Venvs, hes the wyte,
Compelling vs, hir plesours till espier,
And vs commandis, to tak our apetite,
Into that thing, quhilk lufers dois desier.
Quhy stay I now, and thairfore to be schort,
My humble sute, gif gud atendence to,
And I maist ernestlie, will you exhort,
To tak in patience, that quhilk I will do.
My humble sute, gif gud atendence to,
And I maist ernestlie, will you exhort,
To tak in patience, that quhilk I will do.
Pamphilus warsling with Galathea, Galathea spake thir wourdis.
Now Pamphile, hald vp your handis with speid,
In vane ye baith, molest your self and me,
For quhy, this labour, dow na thing indeid,
That quhilk thou seikis, can na wayis grantit be:
Hald vp your handis, or we wil disagre,
Your Leman ye comoue, to wrath and ier,
The auld wife will returne, I tell to the,
Thairfore halde vp thy handis, I thee desier.
In vane ye baith, molest your self and me,
For quhy, this labour, dow na thing indeid,
That quhilk thou seikis, can na wayis grantit be:
Hald vp your handis, or we wil disagre,
Your Leman ye comoue, to wrath and ier,
The auld wife will returne, I tell to the,
Thairfore halde vp thy handis, I thee desier.
Allace how litle force, now sall ye find,
In wemenkind, quhois banis ar no wayis wicht,
Behauld how lichtlie, ye do knit and bynd,
My sillie handis, quhilk hes na strenth nor micht:
Quhy trumpe ye me, with subtiltie and slicht,
And with your breist, my tender breist dois hurt,
The crime is grit, gif it wer countit richt,
That ye suld gyd, me intil sic a sort.
In wemenkind, quhois banis ar no wayis wicht,
Behauld how lichtlie, ye do knit and bynd,
My sillie handis, quhilk hes na strenth nor micht:
Quhy trumpe ye me, with subtiltie and slicht,
And with your breist, my tender breist dois hurt,
That ye suld gyd, me intil sic a sort.
Ceis, or I sall caus you to be persauid,
And schaw, how ye haif drest me in this cace,
The wikit auld wife, falsely hes desauid,
Me wretchit woman, wobegone allace:
Our nix nychbour, bot fra vs litill space,
Heirs all our strife, and purpos maist prophane,
The wikit wife, that pat me in this place,
Hes me disauid, wo with her wikit trane.
And schaw, how ye haif drest me in this cace,
The wikit auld wife, falsely hes desauid,
Me wretchit woman, wobegone allace:
Our nix nychbour, bot fra vs litill space,
Heirs all our strife, and purpos maist prophane,
The wikit wife, that pat me in this place,
Hes me disauid, wo with her wikit trane.
I in this place, na longer will repair,
Nor yet it sal, our bodies bayth contene,
The auld wife sal not, me disaue na mair,
As sche hes done, by hir disaitful mene:
Ye wil be victor, and your will obtene,
Albeid agains you, I baith striue and stray,
Yit not the les, our lufe decay sall clene,
And broken be, betwixt vs twa for ay,
Nor yet it sal, our bodies bayth contene,
The auld wife sal not, me disaue na mair,
As sche hes done, by hir disaitful mene:
Ye wil be victor, and your will obtene,
Albeid agains you, I baith striue and stray,
Yit not the les, our lufe decay sall clene,
And broken be, betwixt vs twa for ay,
Pamphilus speikis to Galathea.
It vs behouis, from farder to decist,
And to repose heir soliter alane,
That we may draw our endis at lenth and list,
Efter the renk and iorny we haue tane:
Your angrie eis, and visage wobegane,
Quhy schaw ye me, and will on na wais meis,
Your face, quhy wesch ye, making sic a mane,
With bitter teirs distelling from your eis.
And to repose heir soliter alane,
That we may draw our endis at lenth and list,
Efter the renk and iorny we haue tane:
Your angrie eis, and visage wobegane,
Quhy schaw ye me, and will on na wais meis,
Your face, quhy wesch ye, making sic a mane,
With bitter teirs distelling from your eis.
The wite and blame, of all this crime I beir,
Correct me than, as ye your selfe desire,
And lat my punishment, be mair seueir,
Nor my deseruing, dewly dois require:
I am content, for to sustene the hire,
Quhat punishment ye pleis on me to mak,
And yit this deid, I na wais did conspire,
For I wes witles of this crime and fact.
Correct me than, as ye your selfe desire,
And lat my punishment, be mair seueir,
Nor my deseruing, dewly dois require:
I am content, for to sustene the hire,
And yit this deid, I na wais did conspire,
For I wes witles of this crime and fact.
And gif ye please, lat vs passe as we can,
Before sum iudge, quhair we may iustice haue,
That I may be maid clean, or giltie than,
With richt and resoun, as the cause dois craue:
Your cristall eis, surpassing all the laue,
Your flesch so white, your fair and fragrant face,
Your wourdis so sweit, the quhilk I did resaue,
Your kisses, with the quiet priuie place.
Before sum iudge, quhair we may iustice haue,
That I may be maid clean, or giltie than,
With richt and resoun, as the cause dois craue:
Your cristall eis, surpassing all the laue,
Your flesch so white, your fair and fragrant face,
Your wourdis so sweit, the quhilk I did resaue,
Your kisses, with the quiet priuie place.
Thir forsaid things, did nurish me maist fresh,
Vnto this fact, maist filthy and profane,
And cruell lufe, inflaming all my flesh,
Into thir things, intisd me with a traine:
The rage of lufe, so enterd in my braine,
That be thir things, I did baith burne and bruse,
Thir things intisd me, I mon speik it plaine,
Vnlesum deids, to follow and til vse.
Vnto this fact, maist filthy and profane,
And cruell lufe, inflaming all my flesh,
Into thir things, intisd me with a traine:
The rage of lufe, so enterd in my braine,
That be thir things, I did baith burne and bruse,
Thir things intisd me, I mon speik it plaine,
Vnlesum deids, to follow and til vse.
This wickit lufe, without respect or skill,
My senses hes peruertit all inteir,
Euin be the quhilk, my fauour and gudwill,
Wes na wais hard nor enterd, in your eir:
Of things quhairof, I am accusit heir,
Vpon your selfe, the haill reproch suld fall,
Because ye war the wall and water cleir,
And of my ill, the first originall.
My senses hes peruertit all inteir,
Euin be the quhilk, my fauour and gudwill,
Wes na wais hard nor enterd, in your eir:
Of things quhairof, I am accusit heir,
Vpon your selfe, the haill reproch suld fall,
Because ye war the wall and water cleir,
And of my ill, the first originall.
Gret strife and anger, with ane ill intent,
Betwixt twa lufers, aucht not to lie lang,
Bot gif it cum be chance or accident,
It suld remaine the schorter, thame amang:
To lufers it dois properly belang,
The lufers falt, for to thole willingle,
And sumtime, patiently to suffer wrang,
Of sic a falt, I mene as common be.
Betwixt twa lufers, aucht not to lie lang,
Bot gif it cum be chance or accident,
It suld remaine the schorter, thame amang:
To lufers it dois properly belang,
The lufers falt, for to thole willingle,
Of sic a falt, I mene as common be.
Quhen the auld wife, returnis bak fra hir feirs,
Your sadnes I beseik you, to comport,
That sche persaue, nor ken not be your teirs,
That we are gilty, intill ony sort.
Your sadnes I beseik you, to comport,
That sche persaue, nor ken not be your teirs,
That we are gilty, intill ony sort.
Anus returns, saying thir words.
Ane nichbour wife, did stay me for to cum,
With nochtie wourdis, not tending to na sens,
Quha with hir wourdis, wald vinqueis and orecum,
Marcvs, that orator of eloquens:
To hurt your eis, now quhat is your pretence,
With murning teirs, your body for to deir,
How cums this colour, and gret rubigence,
Quhilk in your visage, plainly dois apeir.
With nochtie wourdis, not tending to na sens,
Quha with hir wourdis, wald vinqueis and orecum,
Marcvs, that orator of eloquens:
To hurt your eis, now quhat is your pretence,
With murning teirs, your body for to deir,
How cums this colour, and gret rubigence,
Quhilk in your visage, plainly dois apeir.
Quhen I was absent, out of sicht my sell,
Quhat Pamphil did, resolue me of that dout,
Now Galathæ, I pray the for to tell,
All things in ourdour, as they are faln out.
Quhat Pamphil did, resolue me of that dout,
Now Galathæ, I pray the for to tell,
All things in ourdour, as they are faln out.
Galathea answers to Anus.
You speir, how that my chance hes interprisd,
As gif, you knew not of my gret reuyne,
Seing this thing, is subtilly deuisd,
By your consent, and counsail of ingyne:
The tre is kend and knawin, gif it be fine,
Be the awin fruit, quhilk of it selfe outspreids,
I ken you likwais, quhilk hes done me pine,
Be all your actions and your outward deids.
As gif, you knew not of my gret reuyne,
Seing this thing, is subtilly deuisd,
By your consent, and counsail of ingyne:
The tre is kend and knawin, gif it be fine,
Be the awin fruit, quhilk of it selfe outspreids,
I ken you likwais, quhilk hes done me pine,
Be all your actions and your outward deids.
Into your hous, ye ordaind me frahand,
Apils and nuts, with vther cheir beside,
Into your house, ye ordanid me frahand,
Apillis and nutis, with vther cheir besyd,
Into the mene tyme, Pamphilvs, did stand,
Befoir the zet quhair as he did abyd:
Ye fenzit that your nichbour on you cryd,
That tyme micht serue the purpos for to speid,
And that I micht be spoilzit, and depryd,
Of my virginnitie, and maidinheid.
Apils and nuts, with vther cheir beside,
Apillis and nutis, with vther cheir besyd,
Into the mene tyme, Pamphilvs, did stand,
Befoir the zet quhair as he did abyd:
Ye fenzit that your nichbour on you cryd,
That tyme micht serue the purpos for to speid,
And that I micht be spoilzit, and depryd,
Of my virginnitie, and maidinheid.
Quhat maid you, for to tary furth with folk,
And fra your hous, for to remane so lait,
Behauld how weil, your craft can hyd and clok,
The doubill deling, and the awin desait:
Disait and craft, into their awin estait,
Hes run thair race, quhilk I may rew richt sair
I Galathae, am trapit and defait,
Into the net, and crafty subtill snair.
And fra your hous, for to remane so lait,
Behauld how weil, your craft can hyd and clok,
The doubill deling, and the awin desait:
Disait and craft, into their awin estait,
Hes run thair race, quhilk I may rew richt sair
I Galathae, am trapit and defait,
Into the net, and crafty subtill snair.
Anus answeris to Galathea.
I am vnjustly blamid, the treuth to tell,
Bot sic offence, mot far be put fra me,
For I sall purge and purifie my sell,
By richt and resoun, as your selfe sall se:
The name of that crime, far dois disagre,
With my auld age, quhilk may mak na releif,
My craft is not so curious, nor so he,
In wikit maters, tending to mischief.
Bot sic offence, mot far be put fra me,
For I sall purge and purifie my sell,
By richt and resoun, as your selfe sall se:
The name of that crime, far dois disagre,
With my auld age, quhilk may mak na releif,
My craft is not so curious, nor so he,
In wikit maters, tending to mischief.
Gif ony stryfe, or wauering wourdis of wind,
To you hes chancit, concerning sic a cace,
Quhat falt or cryme, in me than can ye find,
Quho absent wes, and out of present place:
Quhat euer it be, that dois you so disgrace,
I for my awin pairt, will my self acquite,
Your ardent lufe, with priuie tyme and space,
Hes done the deid, quhairof I haif na wyte.
To you hes chancit, concerning sic a cace,
Quhat falt or cryme, in me than can ye find,
Quho absent wes, and out of present place:
Quhat euer it be, that dois you so disgrace,
I for my awin pairt, will my self acquite,
Your ardent lufe, with priuie tyme and space,
Hes done the deid, quhairof I haif na wyte.
Anus speakis to Pamphilus.
Tell to me Pamphil, gif it be thy will,
This mistik mater, quhilk I did not se,
Bot as to the beginning of this ill,
It is not neidfull to declair to me.
This mistik mater, quhilk I did not se,
Bot as to the beginning of this ill,
It is not neidfull to declair to me.
Pamphilus answers to Anus
Gif that ye knew, how for ane small commit,
Gret occusatioun, now I do resaue,
Hir anger is mair vehement and grit,
Nor my deseruing, of it selfe can craue:
Vs it behouis, maist quietly to behaue,
And lufers secreits, trewly to consceill,
Fra time that dolour pas, as we persaue,
Gret schame it is, the secreits to reueill.
Gret occusatioun, now I do resaue,
Hir anger is mair vehement and grit,
Nor my deseruing, of it selfe can craue:
Vs it behouis, maist quietly to behaue,
And lufers secreits, trewly to consceill,
Fra time that dolour pas, as we persaue,
Gret schame it is, the secreits to reueill.
It you becums, na vther gait to gang,
Bot for to meis the matter, I considder,
For it becums not, anger to last lang,
Betwixt vs twa, trew lufers baith togidder:
Bot for to meis the matter, I considder,
For it becums not, anger to last lang,
Betwixt vs twa, trew lufers baith togidder:
Galathea speakis to Pamphilus.
Declair our doings to the auld wife now,
As gif that sche, thame neuer knew nor kend,
That sche may vnderstand the maner how,
That all this matter, hes bene brocht till end:
To speir that thing at you, sche dois pretend,
Quhilk sche in counsall, did hir selfe decre,
That sche micht seme, In that sche did offend,
Into na wais, for to haue troublit me.
As gif that sche, thame neuer knew nor kend,
That sche may vnderstand the maner how,
That all this matter, hes bene brocht till end:
To speir that thing at you, sche dois pretend,
Quhilk sche in counsall, did hir selfe decre,
That sche micht seme, In that sche did offend,
Into na wais, for to haue troublit me.
Ye and the wife, ambiguously but feir,
Hes trumpit me, as I the truth may tell,
The mater is maid euident and cleir,
Be the effects, and takins of it sell:
And as the fisch, efter the taking snell,
Persauis the huke, quhen sche na mair may do,
Swa seis the mind of man, the fraud so fell,
And subtill snair, quhilk he is tane into.
Hes trumpit me, as I the truth may tell,
Be the effects, and takins of it sell:
And as the fisch, efter the taking snell,
Persauis the huke, quhen sche na mair may do,
Swa seis the mind of man, the fraud so fell,
And subtill snair, quhilk he is tane into.
Quhat sall I do, to quhat part sall I ply,
I wander man, throuch all the warld astray,
My Parents iustly, may me now deny,
And at thair dur, debar me out for ay,
With wauering eis, I luke to euery way,
Quhilis heir, quhilis thair, in euery airt athort,
I se na comfort, quhairvpoun to stay,
Maist caitif woman, void of all support.
I wander man, throuch all the warld astray,
My Parents iustly, may me now deny,
And at thair dur, debar me out for ay,
With wauering eis, I luke to euery way,
Quhilis heir, quhilis thair, in euery airt athort,
I se na comfort, quhairvpoun to stay,
Maist caitif woman, void of all support.
Anus answers to Galathea.
It sets not wise folkis, for so small a fact,
For to lament so sore, for sick malingis,
Seing that dolour, may na profite mak,
Nor to the maister, na reward inbrings:
Thole patiently, and als except those things,
The quhilk by craft, can na wais mendit be,
And that immodrate lufe, quhilk in the rings,
The quhilk hes giuen, intisement vnto the.
For to lament so sore, for sick malingis,
Seing that dolour, may na profite mak,
Nor to the maister, na reward inbrings:
Thole patiently, and als except those things,
The quhilk by craft, can na wais mendit be,
And that immodrate lufe, quhilk in the rings,
The quhilk hes giuen, intisement vnto the.
Wisedome I say, with gud discretioun eik,
Thy murning teirs, suld temper into tone,
And it becums the, counsall for to seik,
Quhat in this mater, titest suld be done:
The harts of lufers, quhilk suld be abone,
By strife are hurt, with wapins maist seueir,
For oft times, discord woundes dois nourisch sone,
Be the awin battell, and vnhappy weir.
Thy murning teirs, suld temper into tone,
And it becums the, counsall for to seik,
Quhat in this mater, titest suld be done:
The harts of lufers, quhilk suld be abone,
By strife are hurt, with wapins maist seueir,
For oft times, discord woundes dois nourisch sone,
Be the awin battell, and vnhappy weir.
Ilk ane with vther, leid ane quiet life,
In pece and rest, lang time, for til abide,
That ye to him, may be ane lufing wife,
And he your husband on the vther side:
Be menis and moyens, quhilk I did prouide,
Ye haue obtenid your haill desier, I say,
Be me, gud fortoun to you did betide,
Thairfoir of me, haue gud remembrance ay.
In pece and rest, lang time, for til abide,
That ye to him, may be ane lufing wife,
And he your husband on the vther side:
Be menis and moyens, quhilk I did prouide,
Ye haue obtenid your haill desier, I say,
Be me, gud fortoun to you did betide,
Thairfoir of me, haue gud remembrance ay.
FINIS. Heir ends the Historie of Pamphilus.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
THE ADITION OF THE TRANSLATER, IN FORME OF APPLICATION, vpon the purpose going before.
Ye Damisels that are, baith trest and trew,
With wanton Venvs, se ye not repair,
The Ciprian dame, hes seruants ay anew,
To take pure virgins, captifis in the snair,
Be lang intisment, and by crafty cair:
And be perswasion of ane wicket wife,
Marke, how this maid, hath lost ane honest life.
With wanton Venvs, se ye not repair,
The Ciprian dame, hes seruants ay anew,
To take pure virgins, captifis in the snair,
Be lang intisment, and by crafty cair:
And be perswasion of ane wicket wife,
Marke, how this maid, hath lost ane honest life.
Ye shame your selfis, and lossis all your seill,
With wickit company, fra time ye vse,
From Circes wisches, se ye keip you weill,
Quha be thair fraud, all lufers dois abuse,
Thair company, and fellowship refuse:
And se your eiris, of na wais be inclind,
To sick as be of the Canaces kind.
With wickit company, fra time ye vse,
From Circes wisches, se ye keip you weill,
Quha be thair fraud, all lufers dois abuse,
Thair company, and fellowship refuse:
And se your eiris, of na wais be inclind,
To sick as be of the Canaces kind.
First fra ye enter, in that wanton trine,
It will appeir, for to be sum part dous,
Marke quhat sche hes resauid, for hir propine,
Debard and banist, from hir fathers hous,
Sen sick things, may comoue you to corous:
Exampill take by Cratanaminost,
Quha for hir lufe, baith kin and country lost.
It will appeir, for to be sum part dous,
Marke quhat sche hes resauid, for hir propine,
Debard and banist, from hir fathers hous,
Sen sick things, may comoue you to corous:
Exampill take by Cratanaminost,
Quha for hir lufe, baith kin and country lost.
Out of your mindis, expell this thocht profane,
That Cvpids hukis not enter in your heid,
Throw furious lufe, quhat number hes bene slane,
Als weil of men, as wemen we may reid,
Without suport, or any more remeid:
Throw furious lufe, quhilk of it self is fell,
Dispairdly Dido, did put down hir sell.
That Cvpids hukis not enter in your heid,
Als weil of men, as wemen we may reid,
Without suport, or any more remeid:
Throw furious lufe, quhilk of it self is fell,
Dispairdly Dido, did put down hir sell.
Sic michte motions, lufers hartis dois moue,
That nicht and day, thay troublit ar and pynd,
Siclik Charina, slew hir self throw loue,
Sic wes the madnes enterd in her mynd,
Lat not your eiris, to Cvpid be inclynd:
Considring quhat, he dailie dois subdew,
Thay happie ar, that can his snarris eschew.
That nicht and day, thay troublit ar and pynd,
Siclik Charina, slew hir self throw loue,
Sic wes the madnes enterd in her mynd,
Lat not your eiris, to Cvpid be inclynd:
Considring quhat, he dailie dois subdew,
Thay happie ar, that can his snarris eschew.
For to behauld, the deidis of lufe ilk day,
The mindis of men, it wald mak for to muse,
And lykwais Sapho, slew hir self I say,
Becaus that Phaon, did hir lufe refuse,
The flamis of lufe, so did hir hairt confuse:
Sche hairtburne wes his bewteis til imbrace,
Be ressoun of the fauour of his face.
The mindis of men, it wald mak for to muse,
And lykwais Sapho, slew hir self I say,
Becaus that Phaon, did hir lufe refuse,
The flamis of lufe, so did hir hairt confuse:
Sche hairtburne wes his bewteis til imbrace,
Be ressoun of the fauour of his face.
Cvpid, by craft, can vinqueis and ouercum,
The hairts of lufers, that ar euery quhair,
With bestly lufe; he blindis the hairtis of sum,
And makis thame for till fall into dispair,
Howbeid Queene Pasephe, lustie wes and fair:
Sche left hir housband quhilk wes wonderful,
For to conuers, with ane maist brutishe bull.
The hairts of lufers, that ar euery quhair,
With bestly lufe; he blindis the hairtis of sum,
And makis thame for till fall into dispair,
Howbeid Queene Pasephe, lustie wes and fair:
Sche left hir housband quhilk wes wonderful,
For to conuers, with ane maist brutishe bull.
For to repeit this tail, my stomok grous,
Of Clitemnestra, that vnhapie hure,
Quho murdreist Agamenon, hir awin spous,
For fauour quhilk sche til Egestvs bure,
Grit punischment, sche dewlie did procure:
Becaus sche did so filthilie offend,
Maist miserabill wes hir wikit end.
Of Clitemnestra, that vnhapie hure,
Quho murdreist Agamenon, hir awin spous,
For fauour quhilk sche til Egestvs bure,
Grit punischment, sche dewlie did procure:
Becaus sche did so filthilie offend,
Maist miserabill wes hir wikit end.
To Cvpids counsall fra thou ans obay,
Thy carnall frends, thou drilie, bidis adew,
Fair Cillia, hir father did betray,
For Minos lufe, sik fauour sche him schew,
She wes not onely doubill and vntrew:
Bot lang time sche consceild it in hir mind,
How beid, it wes contrarius vnto kind.
Thy carnall frends, thou drilie, bidis adew,
Fair Cillia, hir father did betray,
For Minos lufe, sik fauour sche him schew,
She wes not onely doubill and vntrew:
Bot lang time sche consceild it in hir mind,
How beid, it wes contrarius vnto kind.
We neid not for to muse, nor wonder than,
To se the hartis and mindis of lufers moue,
Evropa left Prence Atrivs hir gudman,
And with his brother Theast, fell in loue,
This Princes than, wes wordy of reproue:
Behauld, how sche hes vsid sick villany,
Without respect of consanguinity.
To se the hartis and mindis of lufers moue,
Evropa left Prence Atrivs hir gudman,
And with his brother Theast, fell in loue,
This Princes than, wes wordy of reproue:
Behauld, how sche hes vsid sick villany,
Without respect of consanguinity.
Pellopia and Mirra, I hard say,
Committit incest, as ye may consider,
Thir ladies fair, with thair awin fathers lay,
And carnally conioynd thame selfis togider,
To take the man, that married had thair moder:
With beistly lufe, thay haif mair blindit bene,
Nor modiwardis, that wantis baith sicht and ene.
Committit incest, as ye may consider,
Thir ladies fair, with thair awin fathers lay,
And carnally conioynd thame selfis togider,
To take the man, that married had thair moder:
With beistly lufe, thay haif mair blindit bene,
Nor modiwardis, that wantis baith sicht and ene.
I do regrait, thir stories are so rife,
The quhilk I do so copiously declair,
For Semeramvs, that wes Ninvs wife,
Incestuously lay with hir son and air,
Of wemens staits, I will incist na mair:
Except this wourd, quhilk present I expres,
How Canace, had hir brother Macares.
The quhilk I do so copiously declair,
For Semeramvs, that wes Ninvs wife,
Incestuously lay with hir son and air,
Of wemens staits, I will incist na mair:
Except this wourd, quhilk present I expres,
How Canace, had hir brother Macares.
Wonder not of thir wemen, quhilk ye se,
Descriuit heir, into thair awin degreis,
Albeid, that men, the wichter veshels be,
Yit are thay subiect, to the same diseis,
This wanton dame, halds lufers at vaneis:
As be exampill, I sall plainly proue,
Duchtie Achilles, deit throw feruent loue.
Descriuit heir, into thair awin degreis,
Albeid, that men, the wichter veshels be,
Yit are thay subiect, to the same diseis,
This wanton dame, halds lufers at vaneis:
Duchtie Achilles, deit throw feruent loue.
To se the harts, of lufers so forlorne,
It wald make men for feir, to grudge and greue,
Bernardo, quho wes ane Italian borne,
For lufe of Lacon, did his life bereue,
To lie with hir, becaus he gat not leue:
This furious fule, him slew incontinent,
Becaus he culd not cum to his intent.
It wald make men for feir, to grudge and greue,
Bernardo, quho wes ane Italian borne,
For lufe of Lacon, did his life bereue,
To lie with hir, becaus he gat not leue:
This furious fule, him slew incontinent,
Becaus he culd not cum to his intent.
Quhair raging lufe, intil a hart dois ring,
It wantis respect of honour and renoun,
We read, of Artemenivs the King,
Ravinas husband, quho did murdres doun,
Onely to lie with hir, and play the loun:
This Artemenivs sumtime king of Spaine,
For his reward, wes with the wild bests slaine.
It wantis respect of honour and renoun,
We read, of Artemenivs the King,
Ravinas husband, quho did murdres doun,
Onely to lie with hir, and play the loun:
This Artemenivs sumtime king of Spaine,
For his reward, wes with the wild bests slaine.
Marke and behold, quhat blindnes hes bene heir,
Concerning silly pure Narcissvs cace,
Quho past vnto ane spring of water cleir,
Quhair he beheld, the shadow of his face,
Faine he desird, that figure till imbrace:
Beleuing na wais, that it was him sell,
And so for lufe, he died beside the well.
Concerning silly pure Narcissvs cace,
Quho past vnto ane spring of water cleir,
Quhair he beheld, the shadow of his face,
Faine he desird, that figure till imbrace:
Beleuing na wais, that it was him sell,
And so for lufe, he died beside the well.
Mair blindnes, did this curious crafts man moue,
Quhois laud and fame, liuis into mony lands,
Pigmalion with the Pictur fell in loue,
Quhilk he had portrait, with his awin twa hands,
Howbeid this image, as ane Idole stands:
With blindit lufe, this man so far wes led,
That it lay nichtly with him in the bed.
Quhois laud and fame, liuis into mony lands,
Pigmalion with the Pictur fell in loue,
Quhilk he had portrait, with his awin twa hands,
Howbeid this image, as ane Idole stands:
With blindit lufe, this man so far wes led,
That it lay nichtly with him in the bed.
The duchtie, and maist manly Damiovn,
Wes pynd with lufe, and sine deid in dispair,
And Hercvles, quho maid escamioun,
Of Demera, for Yole so fair,
Of campions stout, king Cvpid takis na cair:
Thocht Samson wes of fortitude maist frack,
Yit Venvs, wes the wite of all his wrack.
Wes pynd with lufe, and sine deid in dispair,
Of Demera, for Yole so fair,
Of campions stout, king Cvpid takis na cair:
Thocht Samson wes of fortitude maist frack,
Yit Venvs, wes the wite of all his wrack.
In na kyn stait, so far as I can ken,
Bot Venvs is, ay reddie til intise,
For sumtimes, sche bereues the wits of men,
That are esteimd, to be maist sage and wise,
Spy, how the harts of men, sche can surprise:
For Socrates with flams of lufe aflocht,
Maist ardently, Sosias lufe besocht.
Bot Venvs is, ay reddie til intise,
For sumtimes, sche bereues the wits of men,
That are esteimd, to be maist sage and wise,
Spy, how the harts of men, sche can surprise:
For Socrates with flams of lufe aflocht,
Maist ardently, Sosias lufe besocht.
Sche gides the harts, of mene men and of grit,
And be hir menes, sche mony brings to baill,
Avrelivs als, ane michtie man of wit,
With lufe of ladies, wes inflamd alhail,
And syndrie times, he did thair lufe assaill:
Bot becaus, she wes fairest of thame all,
Martinas lufe, he socht in speciall.
And be hir menes, sche mony brings to baill,
Avrelivs als, ane michtie man of wit,
With lufe of ladies, wes inflamd alhail,
And syndrie times, he did thair lufe assaill:
Bot becaus, she wes fairest of thame all,
Martinas lufe, he socht in speciall.
Of caitife folks, howbeid, thair be gret store,
Ill with the gud, we aucht not for to deme,
Of wickit wemen, as I writ before,
So sall I now, the praise of sum expreme,
Pudicitie, is meikill til esteme:
Amelia, that virgin pure and leill,
From spot or blame, hir body keipit weill.
Ill with the gud, we aucht not for to deme,
Of wickit wemen, as I writ before,
So sall I now, the praise of sum expreme,
Pudicitie, is meikill til esteme:
Amelia, that virgin pure and leill,
From spot or blame, hir body keipit weill.
Happy are thay, can modesty meintene,
And ryn thair rink, into the richteous rait,
Lvcrece sicklike, that constant Lady schene,
Into hir time, liu'd in ane chaist estait,
Agains king Cvpid, sche maid sick debait:
He culd not hir, perswade to villanie,
And so sche wan, the crown of chastitie.
And ryn thair rink, into the richteous rait,
Lvcrece sicklike, that constant Lady schene,
Into hir time, liu'd in ane chaist estait,
Agains king Cvpid, sche maid sick debait:
He culd not hir, perswade to villanie,
The fame sall leue, and for ane lang time lest,
Of sick as dois, demerit gud commend,
Dannat, the stait of chastitie profest,
And did obserue the samin to the end,
For by the gifts, that in hir corps wes kend:
She wes not onely chaist, as is indite,
Bot intill all hir actions, maist perfite.
Of sick as dois, demerit gud commend,
Dannat, the stait of chastitie profest,
And did obserue the samin to the end,
For by the gifts, that in hir corps wes kend:
She wes not onely chaist, as is indite,
Bot intill all hir actions, maist perfite.
Thisbe, sick lufe into hir brest did beir,
Without respect, quhat perrill wes to licht,
She met with Priam, hir awin husband deir,
At Ninvs tombe, into the feirfull nicht,
Behauld, gif that hir hart hes bene vpricht:
Quhat skaith micht cum of it, sche tuke na cure,
Sick wes the lufe, sche to hir husband bure.
Without respect, quhat perrill wes to licht,
She met with Priam, hir awin husband deir,
At Ninvs tombe, into the feirfull nicht,
Behauld, gif that hir hart hes bene vpricht:
Quhat skaith micht cum of it, sche tuke na cure,
Sick wes the lufe, sche to hir husband bure.
Penelope, of patience maist strang,
Vlissis wife, that lady of gret fame,
Quho notwithstanding, of his absence lang,
Remaind maist constant, to his cumming hame,
Time to prolong, with sick as did hir clame:
The web, quhilk sche in day licht wrocht with pane,
Into the nicht, vndid it ay agane.
Vlissis wife, that lady of gret fame,
Quho notwithstanding, of his absence lang,
Remaind maist constant, to his cumming hame,
Time to prolong, with sick as did hir clame:
The web, quhilk sche in day licht wrocht with pane,
Into the nicht, vndid it ay agane.
Lat sick beir blame, as drinks in Cvpids cap,
And of the vertuous, lat renoun reueiue,
Thocht sum be Crocadils in Venvs schap,
Yit sum thair be, quhois fame for ay sall leiue,
As did this dame, quho weill hir web culd weiue:
The vertuous damis, sall liue in laud and fame,
Bot the dishonest, sall resaue a schame.
And of the vertuous, lat renoun reueiue,
Thocht sum be Crocadils in Venvs schap,
Yit sum thair be, quhois fame for ay sall leiue,
As did this dame, quho weill hir web culd weiue:
The vertuous damis, sall liue in laud and fame,
Bot the dishonest, sall resaue a schame.
Thocht thair wes sum, that rashly zeid about,
Throw furious lufe, thame selfis for to put doun,
Of gud men now, the prais I will pent out,
Quho for thair constant lufe, deserfis the croun,
The richteous, sall still flurish in renoun:
Albeid, that sum were whelps of Tygers kind,
Yit sum thair be, that better were inclind.
Throw furious lufe, thame selfis for to put doun,
Quho for thair constant lufe, deserfis the croun,
The richteous, sall still flurish in renoun:
Albeid, that sum were whelps of Tygers kind,
Yit sum thair be, that better were inclind.
Marke gif this man, demerits gud commend,
Quho being, bot ane young adolescent,
Trew Troyelvs, wes constant to the end,
And in his lufe, wes na wais varient,
Bot still to ane, he keipit trew intent:
In barnely age, and puerilitie,
Ye may persaue, the spreit of constancie.
Quho being, bot ane young adolescent,
Trew Troyelvs, wes constant to the end,
And in his lufe, wes na wais varient,
Bot still to ane, he keipit trew intent:
In barnely age, and puerilitie,
Ye may persaue, the spreit of constancie.
Happie is he, that hes a lufing hart,
To his halfe marrow, in an ernest sort,
King Priam keipit ane maist kindly part,
Vnto his spouse, as Poets maks report,
This I man say, in few wourdis to be schort:
Quhair discord dwels, quhilk lufe exiles alace,
Na grace can grow, nor plesour can haue place.
To his halfe marrow, in an ernest sort,
King Priam keipit ane maist kindly part,
Vnto his spouse, as Poets maks report,
This I man say, in few wourdis to be schort:
Quhair discord dwels, quhilk lufe exiles alace,
Na grace can grow, nor plesour can haue place.
Theamphilvs, a natife borne Greik,
Quhois deith, be wemen aucht to be deplord,
Him cled in sackcleith, quhen his wife lay seik,
Vntill the time, God had hir helth restord,
His name and fame, aucht for to be decord,
Because, to fast and pray, he did not fache,
At euery time, quhen that sche tuke a brache.
Quhois deith, be wemen aucht to be deplord,
Him cled in sackcleith, quhen his wife lay seik,
Vntill the time, God had hir helth restord,
His name and fame, aucht for to be decord,
Because, to fast and pray, he did not fache,
At euery time, quhen that sche tuke a brache.
I schew of sic, as into lufe did burne,
And of the patient, I haife spoken eik,
Bot to my former sudiet to returne,
Of Pamphilvs, I will a few wourds speik,
He is to lack, and scarcely with ane leik:
Quho hes not wyn his lufe throw cheualrie,
Bot be the menes of Macrels as ye se.
And of the patient, I haife spoken eik,
Bot to my former sudiet to returne,
Of Pamphilvs, I will a few wourds speik,
He is to lack, and scarcely with ane leik:
Quho hes not wyn his lufe throw cheualrie,
Gret prais pertenis, renoun and honour hie,
And in all pairts, thair laud and fame proceids,
That either wins thair lufis, ventoriouslie,
Or els, be martiall, and maist duchty deids,
Dispising sick, as out of bounds exceids:
As did Thesevs, of quhom, Virgil dois tell,
Quho for his lufe, descendit doun to hell.
And in all pairts, thair laud and fame proceids,
That either wins thair lufis, ventoriouslie,
Or els, be martiall, and maist duchty deids,
Dispising sick, as out of bounds exceids:
As did Thesevs, of quhom, Virgil dois tell,
Quho for his lufe, descendit doun to hell.
Hero that lady, quho did harts allure,
And for hir fairnes, gat a gret renoun,
For lufe the quhilk, Leander till hir bure,
He venture tuke, to saill to Sectus toun,
The storme wes gret, and so he chanst to droun:
Thocht his pretence, wes for to win a fame,
His rasch attempt, is in a part to blame.
And for hir fairnes, gat a gret renoun,
For lufe the quhilk, Leander till hir bure,
He venture tuke, to saill to Sectus toun,
The storme wes gret, and so he chanst to droun:
Thocht his pretence, wes for to win a fame,
His rasch attempt, is in a part to blame.
Hector, quho wes a magnanimious man,
Faucht for his lufe, with Lords of Lauine land,
And Haniball his lufe, and maistres wan,
Throw martiall deids, I mene, be speir and brand,
Thair honest acts, all men may vnderstand:
Quhairfoir, thir Knights, still flurishis in fame,
Bot Pamphilvs, resauis reproch and schame.
Faucht for his lufe, with Lords of Lauine land,
And Haniball his lufe, and maistres wan,
Throw martiall deids, I mene, be speir and brand,
Thair honest acts, all men may vnderstand:
Quhairfoir, thir Knights, still flurishis in fame,
Bot Pamphilvs, resauis reproch and schame.
Stout Tvrnvs, did na skaith, nor danger dout,
To seik his lufe, amang the wild wood treis,
And Prince Enæ, baith valiant, wise and stout,
To Latin land, did nauigat the Seas,
Quhair he ariuid, according to decreis:
And for the mair performance of his vowis,
King Latins dochter, he did take to spowis.
To seik his lufe, amang the wild wood treis,
And Prince Enæ, baith valiant, wise and stout,
To Latin land, did nauigat the Seas,
Quhair he ariuid, according to decreis:
And for the mair performance of his vowis,
King Latins dochter, he did take to spowis.
Sume takis delite, for to make sturt and strife,
And godly interprises to preuent,
Allecto did seduce, king Latins wife,
That to that marage, sche suld not consent,
King Latins selfe, thairwith wes weill content:
And brocht that block to end, maist honorablie,
Albeid, Allecto thocht it suld not be.
And godly interprises to preuent,
That to that marage, sche suld not consent,
King Latins selfe, thairwith wes weill content:
And brocht that block to end, maist honorablie,
Albeid, Allecto thocht it suld not be.
Sum for thair vertew, wins ane nobill name,
And sum dishonor, for thair filthie factis,
Thir valiant Knichts, deseruis a worthy fame,
Be resoun of thair ventrous deids and actis,
Thay bair ane gud report, behind thair backis:
And specially, the Duke Androgion,
Quho for his maistres, saild to Magilon.
And sum dishonor, for thair filthie factis,
Thir valiant Knichts, deseruis a worthy fame,
Be resoun of thair ventrous deids and actis,
Thay bair ane gud report, behind thair backis:
And specially, the Duke Androgion,
Quho for his maistres, saild to Magilon.
FINIS.
TO THE READER.
My willing mind, I pray the not refuse,Sen litle praise may recompence my paine.
Bot I beseik the, that thou wald excuse,
The vnripe seids of my maist barren braine:
My rurall vers, I pray the not prophane,
Thocht thay proceid, from ane maist rustick spring,
Nor my gud purpose, se thou not disdaine,
Ane Prences praise, sen that I preis to sing:
And sen I haue bene bauld, to write this thing,
Quhilk pregnant Poets, iustly may dereid,
First, I craue pardon of our soueraigne King,
And sine of you, quho sall the samin reid,
Not that I haue done you so gret offence,
As to the persoun, of our nobill Prence.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
AN APLICATION CONCERNING OVR KINGS MAIESTIES PERSOVN.
I wil decist, ma notes for till imbring,
Of sik as did, thair ventrous spreits imploy,
Bot lat vs praise, our Prence and natife king,
King Iames the sixt, that richt redouted Roy,
Gif ye wald marke, his courage and conuoy:
He dois deserue, far greter laud and glore,
Nor all the rest, reherst herein before.
Of sik as did, thair ventrous spreits imploy,
Bot lat vs praise, our Prence and natife king,
King Iames the sixt, that richt redouted Roy,
Gif ye wald marke, his courage and conuoy:
He dois deserue, far greter laud and glore,
Nor all the rest, reherst herein before.
I wisch at God, if it were not offence,
And als I craue into thir present dais,
For to haue sum of Ciceros eloquence,
Togither with ane part of Ovids frais,
That I micht speik, into this Prences prais:
Quha for his wisedome, and ventorious deids,
All vther Monarchis, in the warld exceids.
And als I craue into thir present dais,
For to haue sum of Ciceros eloquence,
Togither with ane part of Ovids frais,
That I micht speik, into this Prences prais:
Quha for his wisedome, and ventorious deids,
All vther Monarchis, in the warld exceids.
Strabo dois write, in his cosmographie,
And Titvs Livivs, as I vnderstand,
How Paris past, and saild to Grece by Sie,
To rauish Helene, lady of that land,
Quhair he fair Helene, in hir palace fand:
Thocht Poets of his duchtie deids declair,
Yit Paris to our Prence is na compair.
And Titvs Livivs, as I vnderstand,
How Paris past, and saild to Grece by Sie,
To rauish Helene, lady of that land,
Quhair he fair Helene, in hir palace fand:
Thocht Poets of his duchtie deids declair,
Yit Paris to our Prence is na compair.
Paris performd ane maist vngodly gyse,
Quhilk efter tendit, to gret sturt and stryfe,
Bot our Prence, had ane honest interpryse,
He saild the sea, to fetch his nobill wife,
His interprise, gart mone los thair life,
Bot blist be God, ours come to better end,
Than Iudge quho dois demerit maist commend.
Quhilk efter tendit, to gret sturt and stryfe,
Bot our Prence, had ane honest interpryse,
His interprise, gart mone los thair life,
Bot blist be God, ours come to better end,
Than Iudge quho dois demerit maist commend.
Iason that valient knight, quho dwelt in Greice,
To Colchos came, vnto ane dame maist fair,
Bot fra tyme, that he gat the goldin fleice,
He with Medea, wald remane na mair,
Thoch he wes duchte, as thay do declair:
Yet wes this Knight, maist wordie to dispyis,
Quha past away, but pitie of hir cryis.
To Colchos came, vnto ane dame maist fair,
Bot fra tyme, that he gat the goldin fleice,
He with Medea, wald remane na mair,
Thoch he wes duchte, as thay do declair:
Yet wes this Knight, maist wordie to dispyis,
Quha past away, but pitie of hir cryis.
This prence but peir, and lamp of God elect,
Quhome to gret prais, dois dewly apertene,
Vnto Medea, had far mair respect,
Nor he had to the goldin fleis I mene,
I mene our King respekit, mair our Queene:
Sic gracis in hir persoun, did apeir,
That he regardit, nether gold nor geir.
Quhome to gret prais, dois dewly apertene,
Vnto Medea, had far mair respect,
Nor he had to the goldin fleis I mene,
I mene our King respekit, mair our Queene:
Sic gracis in hir persoun, did apeir,
That he regardit, nether gold nor geir.
Quhat Prence, this prences wald in mind omit,
Considring quhat gret gifts, in hir apeirs,
Sche is a second Saba, for hir wit,
Lang mot sche leue, in Nestors happy yeirs
In lufe and fauour, as it best effeirs:
And in gud stait, a lang time for to stand,
To be ane gouernatrix of this land.
Considring quhat gret gifts, in hir apeirs,
Sche is a second Saba, for hir wit,
Lang mot sche leue, in Nestors happy yeirs
In lufe and fauour, as it best effeirs:
And in gud stait, a lang time for to stand,
To be ane gouernatrix of this land.
Ane ill report, the persoun ay rejakis,
Bot honnest fame, sall neuer faid nor faill,
Of fair Evphinia sum men mentioun makis,
Of Corynth land, the heritrix allhaill,
How mekil fier procedis, bot from a spaill:
Althocht sche wes graue, constant and degest,
One imperfectioun, stenzit all the rest.
Bot honnest fame, sall neuer faid nor faill,
Of fair Evphinia sum men mentioun makis,
Of Corynth land, the heritrix allhaill,
How mekil fier procedis, bot from a spaill:
Althocht sche wes graue, constant and degest,
One imperfectioun, stenzit all the rest.
This imperfectioun, ye sall sone persaue,
And as it stands, I sall the mater tell,
Sche mariet Acharist, hir fathers slaue,
Dishonoring, baith the cuntry and hir sell,
Sum wemen be of ane complexioun fell:
Quha dois resembill, the Basilik flour,
Quhilk changis hewis, and coulours euery hour,
And as it stands, I sall the mater tell,
Sche mariet Acharist, hir fathers slaue,
Dishonoring, baith the cuntry and hir sell,
Sum wemen be of ane complexioun fell:
Quha dois resembill, the Basilik flour,
Quhilk changis hewis, and coulours euery hour,
To count thir thingis, occasions me compels,
That Queens take Kings, and vilipend a Squire,
Our souerane Queene, this prencis far excels,
Thocht sche of Corynth, had the haill impire,
Till ony prences, sche may weil espire:
Becaus sche hes espousit, for hir feir,
Ane nobill prence, quhois persoun hes na peir.
That Queens take Kings, and vilipend a Squire,
Our souerane Queene, this prencis far excels,
Thocht sche of Corynth, had the haill impire,
Till ony prences, sche may weil espire:
Becaus sche hes espousit, for hir feir,
Ane nobill prence, quhois persoun hes na peir.
Laud to thois Ladeis, that thair cuntries leuis,
To be conjoynd, with wise and nobill Kingis,
For to thair cuntry, it gret comfort geuis,
Quhair be the contrair, it dishonour bringis,
Concerning sic misgiding, and malingis:
Luk how gret schame, the Corynthis did resaue,
Als mekill honour, may the Densis haue.
To be conjoynd, with wise and nobill Kingis,
For to thair cuntry, it gret comfort geuis,
Quhair be the contrair, it dishonour bringis,
Concerning sic misgiding, and malingis:
Luk how gret schame, the Corynthis did resaue,
Als mekill honour, may the Densis haue.
As wikit folkis, ar for thair vice abhord,
So for thair gud, the godly gets commend,
We suld giue praise, and laud vnto the Lord,
That sik a vertuous dame is till vs send,
Gud qualities, intill hir corps are kend:
As precious stains, gifis glancing in the nicht,
So schins hir gracis in the pepils sicht.
So for thair gud, the godly gets commend,
We suld giue praise, and laud vnto the Lord,
That sik a vertuous dame is till vs send,
Gud qualities, intill hir corps are kend:
As precious stains, gifis glancing in the nicht,
So schins hir gracis in the pepils sicht.
Hir cumly fame, in sick a stait dois stand,
That Momvs selfe, na imperfectioun knawis,
The pretious stains, that are in Persie land,
Into thair naturs, not sick splendeur schawis,
Hir fame and name, out throw this country blawis:
In gudly gracis, so sche dois excell,
For by hir gifts, sche beirs dame bewties bell.
That Momvs selfe, na imperfectioun knawis,
The pretious stains, that are in Persie land,
Into thair naturs, not sick splendeur schawis,
Hir fame and name, out throw this country blawis:
For by hir gifts, sche beirs dame bewties bell.
As heit from fire, can not be tane away,
Quhair ingle is, with fierie flamis anew,
Na mair can lufe, deminish or decay,
Betwixt twa lufers, that are traist and trew,
I neid not oft, thair namis for to renew:
Quhat lufe hes bene, betwixt twa prences heir,
The awin effect, haue maid the mater cleir.
Quhair ingle is, with fierie flamis anew,
Na mair can lufe, deminish or decay,
Betwixt twa lufers, that are traist and trew,
I neid not oft, thair namis for to renew:
Quhat lufe hes bene, betwixt twa prences heir,
The awin effect, haue maid the mater cleir.
Anna our Queene, of nobill royall blud,
Quhom now our Soueraigne, hes chosin for his feir,
Respectit sche, the Boriall blasts so rud,
To take the hasert, till hir husband deir,
Bot in the cumming to this cuntry heir:
Hir selfe I say, and all hir companie,
With stormie winds, were troublit on the Se.
Quhom now our Soueraigne, hes chosin for his feir,
Respectit sche, the Boriall blasts so rud,
To take the hasert, till hir husband deir,
Bot in the cumming to this cuntry heir:
Hir selfe I say, and all hir companie,
With stormie winds, were troublit on the Se.
As Palinvrvs Pilot, till Enæ,
Throw storme of wind, out of the way did mar,
Euin so the tempest rais, amang thame swæ,
That scarce thay kend the pairt, quhairin thay war,
Na wounder wes, howbeid thay went a scar:
For Thetis wes, in sick a rage and ire,
That all hir fluds appeird, like flams of fire.
Throw storme of wind, out of the way did mar,
Euin so the tempest rais, amang thame swæ,
That scarce thay kend the pairt, quhairin thay war,
Na wounder wes, howbeid thay went a scar:
For Thetis wes, in sick a rage and ire,
That all hir fluds appeird, like flams of fire.
In nauigating, to our nobill Prence,
Vpon the Sea, sche sufferd meikill paine,
For Zephirvs blew, with sick violence,
Sche wes constraind, for to turne back againe,
Considring, how the storme did still remaine:
And how the raging wadder, wes so rud,
Hir gracis persoun, in gret perrill stud.
Vpon the Sea, sche sufferd meikill paine,
For Zephirvs blew, with sick violence,
Sche wes constraind, for to turne back againe,
Considring, how the storme did still remaine:
And how the raging wadder, wes so rud,
Hir gracis persoun, in gret perrill stud.
To pas to hir, our Prence than tuke consait,
Suppose the mater, syndrie did displeis,
Quho hering tell, of this hir troublous stait,
And how sche wes, so tossit on the Seis,
This duchtie Prence, deliberats and decreis:
To sail to Denmarke, to his darling deir,
Without respect, vnto the time of yeir.
Suppose the mater, syndrie did displeis,
And how sche wes, so tossit on the Seis,
This duchtie Prence, deliberats and decreis:
To sail to Denmarke, to his darling deir,
Without respect, vnto the time of yeir.
To sick a Prence, so pissant and so hie,
The interpryse, wes ventrous for to tell,
In winter seasoun, for to tak the Se,
Quhen Satvrn did, his frostie teirs distell,
Thy richteous fame, sen na man can repell:
Maist hardy Cocles, lang time mot thou leiue,
That thir thy deids, may thy renoun reueiue,
The interpryse, wes ventrous for to tell,
In winter seasoun, for to tak the Se,
Quhen Satvrn did, his frostie teirs distell,
Thy richteous fame, sen na man can repell:
Maist hardy Cocles, lang time mot thou leiue,
That thir thy deids, may thy renoun reueiue,
Sen sick ventoriousnes, is in a King,
I think it suld, make mene men to be frack,
Think ye that this, wes ony litle thing,
Himselfe to hasert, on Neptvnvs bak,
Quhair Capharvs, quhilk Schips & botis dois wrak:
Lies in the Sea, beside the sands so schald,
With vther dangers, dreidfull to behald:
I think it suld, make mene men to be frack,
Think ye that this, wes ony litle thing,
Himselfe to hasert, on Neptvnvs bak,
Quhair Capharvs, quhilk Schips & botis dois wrak:
Lies in the Sea, beside the sands so schald,
With vther dangers, dreidfull to behald:
Respectit he, the perrilous scapie rock,
Quhair Triton plais, that monstrous vglie page,
Or caird he by Caribdis feirfull chok,
Quhair Scilas dogs, baith nicht and day dois rage,
This valiant Prence, baith ventrous, wise and sage:
Thir perrils gret, respekit not a Preine,
So fast he langd, to se his lustie Queine.
Quhair Triton plais, that monstrous vglie page,
Or caird he by Caribdis feirfull chok,
Quhair Scilas dogs, baith nicht and day dois rage,
This valiant Prence, baith ventrous, wise and sage:
Thir perrils gret, respekit not a Preine,
So fast he langd, to se his lustie Queine.
Respectit he, the furious raging Sie,
Or of God Æolvs, did he take cair,
Or of the father of Malancolie,
Quhilk rang into the regioun of the air,
Thir perrils, na wais mou'd him to dispair:
Sick courage did consist, into him sell,
That his gud purpose, did all feir expell.
Or of God Æolvs, did he take cair,
Or of the father of Malancolie,
Quhilk rang into the regioun of the air,
Thir perrils, na wais mou'd him to dispair:
Sick courage did consist, into him sell,
That his gud purpose, did all feir expell.
He tuke na thocht, of Ciclops cragie cleuch,
Nor Sirtes sands, his courage did not moue,
O Apivs, thy skeill wes scant aneuch,
For till haue framd, ane schip for his behoue,
Namely throw Sea, a Monarche to remoue:
Abounding gretly, into gifts of grace,
Proceiding baith, of Mars and Pallace race.
Nor Sirtes sands, his courage did not moue,
O Apivs, thy skeill wes scant aneuch,
For till haue framd, ane schip for his behoue,
Namely throw Sea, a Monarche to remoue:
Abounding gretly, into gifts of grace,
Proceiding baith, of Mars and Pallace race.
This valiant King, iustly deseruis the croun,
Lang mot he liue, with sick a worthy name,
His ventrous acts, and royall hie renoun,
Ingrauit is, within the house of fame,
But ony spot, infirmitie or blame:
O God, gif it, a gret reioysing be,
Sick properties, intill a Prence to se.
Lang mot he liue, with sick a worthy name,
His ventrous acts, and royall hie renoun,
Ingrauit is, within the house of fame,
But ony spot, infirmitie or blame:
O God, gif it, a gret reioysing be,
Sick properties, intill a Prence to se.
Vnto the crafty Crocadils false teirs,
With confidence, thou neuer did confide,
O wise Vlisses, with thy waxit eirs,
That did eschew, the Cyren songs aside,
So weill thy selfe, thou did gouerne and gide:
Howbeid, occasioun oft times did procure,
From Cvpids schots, thy corps wes keipit sure.
With confidence, thou neuer did confide,
O wise Vlisses, with thy waxit eirs,
That did eschew, the Cyren songs aside,
So weill thy selfe, thou did gouerne and gide:
Howbeid, occasioun oft times did procure,
From Cvpids schots, thy corps wes keipit sure.
Ye furious lufers, but respect or cair,
That for ane seasoun, liuis in lufe profane,
Vnto the stra, your persons I compair,
Quhilk kendils sone, and sone slakis out agane,
Thay lufe a space, to pacifie thair pane:
Thocht it from feruensie, dois na wais flow,
And so thay woundit are, with Cvpids bow.
That for ane seasoun, liuis in lufe profane,
Vnto the stra, your persons I compair,
Quhilk kendils sone, and sone slakis out agane,
Thay lufe a space, to pacifie thair pane:
Thocht it from feruensie, dois na wais flow,
And so thay woundit are, with Cvpids bow.
Ane parabill maist apt, I will repeit,
Quhilk to trew lufers, iustly dois belang,
Albeid, that iroun be slaw to take a heit,
Yit being het, it halds the samin lang,
Seing the stra, is na materiall strang:
Full water sone, sick fierie flamis may stell,
Bot ardent heit, is ill for till expell.
Quhilk to trew lufers, iustly dois belang,
Albeid, that iroun be slaw to take a heit,
Yit being het, it halds the samin lang,
Seing the stra, is na materiall strang:
Bot ardent heit, is ill for till expell.
How far are lufers, for to lake alace,
That for ane schort time, onely lufe menteens,
His highnes, I compair into this cace,
Vnto the iroun, as properly perteens,
In honour we may speik, of Kings and Queens:
Thocht heit was slaw, to enter in his vains,
Maist ardently with him, it now remains.
That for ane schort time, onely lufe menteens,
His highnes, I compair into this cace,
Vnto the iroun, as properly perteens,
In honour we may speik, of Kings and Queens:
Thocht heit was slaw, to enter in his vains,
Maist ardently with him, it now remains.
He being sick a abill plesant plant,
As in our natioun, neuer rang before,
This wes na small gift, as our selfis may grant,
For by gret gifts, the quhilk he hes in store,
We haue gud cause, his honour to decore:
And to reioyse, vpon ane gud pretence,
That God hes send vs sick a prudent Prence.
As in our natioun, neuer rang before,
This wes na small gift, as our selfis may grant,
For by gret gifts, the quhilk he hes in store,
We haue gud cause, his honour to decore:
And to reioyse, vpon ane gud pretence,
That God hes send vs sick a prudent Prence.
His laud and fame, is widely blawn abrod,
Because himselfe, so weill he hes behauid,
Na dout, bot he, is welbelou'd of God,
Quha at his hands, sick gracis hes resauid,
Gud properties, may plainly be persauid:
Into this Prence, and monarche of gret micht,
God grant that he, may vse his gracis richt.
Because himselfe, so weill he hes behauid,
Na dout, bot he, is welbelou'd of God,
Quha at his hands, sick gracis hes resauid,
Gud properties, may plainly be persauid:
Into this Prence, and monarche of gret micht,
God grant that he, may vse his gracis richt.
Concerning his departure, from this land,
Vnto ane cuntry vncow, and vnkend,
His haill attempts, quhilk he hes tane in hand,
God hes thame blist, and brocht thame to gud end,
With all the actions, quhilk he did intend:
Gif that his grace, wald with himselfe confar,
Vnto his God, he is addettit far.
Vnto ane cuntry vncow, and vnkend,
His haill attempts, quhilk he hes tane in hand,
God hes thame blist, and brocht thame to gud end,
With all the actions, quhilk he did intend:
Gif that his grace, wald with himselfe confar,
Vnto his God, he is addettit far.
This God hes bene, maist mercifull I mene,
In doing and performing his decreis,
Quha of his Schip, hes prenspall pilat bene,
And him conductit saifly throw the Seis,
The Lord will luke, with kind and louing eis:
On sic as dois thair faith, vpon him found,
And from all dangers, keip thame saife and sound.
In doing and performing his decreis,
And him conductit saifly throw the Seis,
The Lord will luke, with kind and louing eis:
On sic as dois thair faith, vpon him found,
And from all dangers, keip thame saife and sound.
From perrils, he his persoun did preuent,
So cairfully, from skaith he did him keipe,
Quhair raging wauis, and waters turbilent,
Did flow and fleet, into the dangerous deipe,
His wakrife eis, dois walk and neuer sleipe:
Ouer Heuin, earth, hell, and euery liuing thing,
And he of Sea and land, is Lord and king.
So cairfully, from skaith he did him keipe,
Quhair raging wauis, and waters turbilent,
Did flow and fleet, into the dangerous deipe,
His wakrife eis, dois walk and neuer sleipe:
Ouer Heuin, earth, hell, and euery liuing thing,
And he of Sea and land, is Lord and king.
From Heuin so hie, he seis all things belaw,
And of his awin, he hes gret cair and cure,
From storms of wind, and tempests that did blaw,
His michtie power, preseru'd him saife and sure,
His deuine power, quhilk euer sall indure:
Can calme gret storms, and make thame to be still,
All creaturs, obais his blessit will.
And of his awin, he hes gret cair and cure,
From storms of wind, and tempests that did blaw,
His michtie power, preseru'd him saife and sure,
His deuine power, quhilk euer sall indure:
Can calme gret storms, and make thame to be still,
All creaturs, obais his blessit will.
Our nobill Prence, maist pregnant into wit,
Now with his Queene, conioynd in marage band,
This gracious God, quhois mercies ar maist grit,
Hes brocht thame baith, in saifty to this land,
I pray the Lord, lang that thair stait may stand:
That God thairby, may glore and honour haue,
And that the cuntry comfort may resaue.
Now with his Queene, conioynd in marage band,
This gracious God, quhois mercies ar maist grit,
Hes brocht thame baith, in saifty to this land,
I pray the Lord, lang that thair stait may stand:
That God thairby, may glore and honour haue,
And that the cuntry comfort may resaue.
Sen God aboue, be his hie power deuine,
Hes the conductit, at thy harts desire,
It the becums, this Pilot to propine,
With rich rewards, in recompence of hire,
Because he wes, thy gide and onely squire,
With doubill thanks, for by his Pilot fe,
Weill he deseruis, rewardit for to be.
Hes the conductit, at thy harts desire,
It the becums, this Pilot to propine,
With rich rewards, in recompence of hire,
Because he wes, thy gide and onely squire,
With doubill thanks, for by his Pilot fe,
Weill he deseruis, rewardit for to be.
He wes thy ankour, and thy onely chance,
Togither with thy cabill tow so teuch,
This Pilot, thou can neuer recompance,
Nor zit, with thanks, reward him weill aneuch,
He can preserue thy Schip, from craig and cleuch:
O gif that kippage blist, and happie be,
Hes sick a Pilot in thair compane.
Togither with thy cabill tow so teuch,
This Pilot, thou can neuer recompance,
Nor zit, with thanks, reward him weill aneuch,
He can preserue thy Schip, from craig and cleuch:
O gif that kippage blist, and happie be,
Hes sick a Pilot in thair compane.
Wardly rewards, this Pilot will not haife,
For gold nor geir, he dois not seik nor clame,
Bot the reward and wage, quhilk he dois craife,
Is praise and honour, to his holy name,
Maist valiant Prence, of nobill brute and fame:
Sen that his mercy, did thy Schip mentene,
Gif praise to God, quho hes thy Pilot bene.
For gold nor geir, he dois not seik nor clame,
Bot the reward and wage, quhilk he dois craife,
Is praise and honour, to his holy name,
Maist valiant Prence, of nobill brute and fame:
Sen that his mercy, did thy Schip mentene,
Gif praise to God, quho hes thy Pilot bene.
Forzet not for to thank him day and nicht,
Quho did thy interprise, so weill aply,
And in this land, his name caus reuerence richt,
So far as it into thy handis dois ly,
Trators to God, seik out and warly try:
Gud men mentene, and punish that opres,
So sall thy actions, haif ane gud succes.
Quho did thy interprise, so weill aply,
And in this land, his name caus reuerence richt,
So far as it into thy handis dois ly,
Trators to God, seik out and warly try:
Gud men mentene, and punish that opres,
So sall thy actions, haif ane gud succes.
Sen God hes geuin, the swourd into thy hand,
And the promotit, to ane Kingly place,
Lat justice likwais, flurish in this land,
So sall the Lord bestow, his giftis of grace,
In doing this, he sall mentene thy race:
And thou of all men, sall receiue commend,
With praise immortall, to the warlds end.
And the promotit, to ane Kingly place,
Lat justice likwais, flurish in this land,
So sall the Lord bestow, his giftis of grace,
In doing this, he sall mentene thy race:
And thou of all men, sall receiue commend,
With praise immortall, to the warlds end.
As Cliominvs, King of Cret, be God,
Wes for his justice, estemat maist sure,
So let thy fame, be likwais blawin abrod,
In doing justice, baith to ritch and pure,
Like to the Laurell leife, thy fauie sall flure,
And thou not onely, sall in honour leiue,
Bot thy renoun, sall mair and mair reveiue.
Wes for his justice, estemat maist sure,
So let thy fame, be likwais blawin abrod,
In doing justice, baith to ritch and pure,
And thou not onely, sall in honour leiue,
Bot thy renoun, sall mair and mair reveiue.
I pray the Lord, thy nobill stait mentene,
In pece and rest, lang time for to proceid,
Lang for to liue, with thy maist lusty Quene,
That we may se, sum of thy nobill seid,
Like to the vinetre, that the same may spreid:
And like a frutfull tre, for to acres,
God of his grace, to send the gud succes.
In pece and rest, lang time for to proceid,
Lang for to liue, with thy maist lusty Quene,
That we may se, sum of thy nobill seid,
Like to the vinetre, that the same may spreid:
And like a frutfull tre, for to acres,
God of his grace, to send the gud succes.
Thou Caliop, that wryts of ventrous acts,
Thy ornat pen, I pray the to prepair,
And Thalida, that wryts of famous facts,
Into thy Chronikils, his deids declair,
To pen his praise, ze Poets do not spair:
And I beseik, you Musis euery one,
To praise this Prence, with mouthis of Helicone.
Thy ornat pen, I pray the to prepair,
And Thalida, that wryts of famous facts,
Into thy Chronikils, his deids declair,
To pen his praise, ze Poets do not spair:
And I beseik, you Musis euery one,
To praise this Prence, with mouthis of Helicone.
FINIS.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
THE DISCRIPTION OF THE QVEENS MAIESTIES MAIST HONORABLE ENTRY INTO THE TOVN OF EDINBVRGH, VPON THE 19. DAY OF MAII. 1590.
At Edinburgh, as micht be seene,
Vpon the nintene day of Maj,
Our Prences spous, and soueraigne queen
Hir nobil entry maid that day,
Maist honorable, wes hir conuoy,
With gladnes gret, triumph and ioy.
Vpon the nintene day of Maj,
Our Prences spous, and soueraigne queen
Hir nobil entry maid that day,
Maist honorable, wes hir conuoy,
With gladnes gret, triumph and ioy.
To recreat, hir hie renoun,
Of curious things, thair wes all sort,
The stairs and houses of the toun,
With Tapestries, were spred athort:
Quhair Histories, men micht behauld,
With Imagis, and antiks auld.
Of curious things, thair wes all sort,
The stairs and houses of the toun,
With Tapestries, were spred athort:
Quhair Histories, men micht behauld,
With Imagis, and antiks auld.
No man in mind, culd weill consaue,
The curious warks, before his eis,
In Tapestries, ye micht persaue,
Young Ramel, wrocht like lawrell treis:
With syndrie sorts of Chalandrie,
In curious forme of Carpentrie.
The curious warks, before his eis,
In Tapestries, ye micht persaue,
Young Ramel, wrocht like lawrell treis:
With syndrie sorts of Chalandrie,
In curious forme of Carpentrie.
It written wes, with stories mæ,
How Venvs, with a thundring thud,
Inclosd Achates and Enæ,
Within a mekill mistie clud:
And how fair Anna wondrous wraith,
Deplors hir sister Didos daith.
Inclosd Achates and Enæ,
Within a mekill mistie clud:
And how fair Anna wondrous wraith,
Deplors hir sister Didos daith.
Thair wes the blindit artchour boy,
Schuting crafty Inticlotes,
Thair wes discriu'd, the wrack of Troy,
And how the proud Philoclites:
Schot prudent Paris throw the thie,
With poisond dart, quhilk gart him die.
Schuting crafty Inticlotes,
Thair wes discriu'd, the wrack of Troy,
And how the proud Philoclites:
Schot prudent Paris throw the thie,
With poisond dart, quhilk gart him die.
Iô, with hir goldin glitring hair,
Wes portret wondrous properlie,
And Polipheme, wes pentit thair,
Quha in his foreheid had ane eie:
Beneth him bot ane litill space,
Wes Ianvs, with the doubill face.
Wes portret wondrous properlie,
And Polipheme, wes pentit thair,
Quha in his foreheid had ane eie:
Beneth him bot ane litill space,
Wes Ianvs, with the doubill face.
Of Romolvs, I saw the wonder,
How for his interprise prophane,
In counterfeting of the thunder,
For his reward, thairwith wes slane:
And thair wes wrocht, with goldin threid,
Medvsa, with the monstrus heid.
How for his interprise prophane,
In counterfeting of the thunder,
For his reward, thairwith wes slane:
And thair wes wrocht, with goldin threid,
Medvsa, with the monstrus heid.
Of historeis, I saw anew,
That fragill wer, and friuolus,
How Triton, at the Sea side slew,
Misenvs, sonne to Æolvs:
Beside that historie thair stands,
Briarivs, with his hundreth hands.
That fragill wer, and friuolus,
How Triton, at the Sea side slew,
Misenvs, sonne to Æolvs:
Beside that historie thair stands,
Briarivs, with his hundreth hands.
The story of Achilles stout,
With gold wes browderd thair abreid,
And how wise Pallace, did spring out,
At michtie Ivpiters foreheid:
And Icarvs, throw fleing hie,
With waxit wingis fel in the se.
With gold wes browderd thair abreid,
And how wise Pallace, did spring out,
And Icarvs, throw fleing hie,
With waxit wingis fel in the se.
How Iaon, Sesra did persew,
And draue ane naill into his brow,
And Iephte, quho his dochter slew,
For till obserue his oath and vowe:
And how that all gret Nilvs flud,
Wes turnd and alterd into blud.
And draue ane naill into his brow,
And Iephte, quho his dochter slew,
For till obserue his oath and vowe:
And how that all gret Nilvs flud,
Wes turnd and alterd into blud.
How Iove did with the Giants do,
And how of thame he vaslage wan,
Thair Phocomes, wes portrait to,
Quho beirs baith schap of hors and man:
And how that he gat throw the hairt,
Throw schot of Mopsis deidlie dairt.
And how of thame he vaslage wan,
Thair Phocomes, wes portrait to,
Quho beirs baith schap of hors and man:
And how that he gat throw the hairt,
Throw schot of Mopsis deidlie dairt.
Ixion, that the quheill dois turne,
In Hell, that vgly hole so mirk,
And Erostratvs, quha did burne,
The costly fair Ephesien Kirk:
And Bliades, quho fals in soun,
With drawing buckets vp and down.
In Hell, that vgly hole so mirk,
And Erostratvs, quha did burne,
The costly fair Ephesien Kirk:
And Bliades, quho fals in soun,
With drawing buckets vp and down.
As Mercvrie, with charmit rods,
The hundreth eis of Argvs traps,
And how that Tiphon chast the gods,
Compelling thame to change thair schaps:
For Phebvs, wes turnd in a cat,
And Venvs, in a fiche maist flat.
The hundreth eis of Argvs traps,
And how that Tiphon chast the gods,
Compelling thame to change thair schaps:
For Phebvs, wes turnd in a cat,
And Venvs, in a fiche maist flat.
Thir things wer patent to the eis,
Of sindry as ye knaw your sell,
For thay wer into tapestreis,
Better descriu'd nor I can tell:
Thir I beheld quhair I did go,
With mony hundreth thousand mo.
Of sindry as ye knaw your sell,
For thay wer into tapestreis,
Better descriu'd nor I can tell:
Thir I beheld quhair I did go,
Braue nobill men, of all kin sorts,
Triumphantly, beside hir raid,
First at hir entry, at the ports,
Trim Harangs, till hir grace wes maid,
Hir salutatioun, thair wes sung,
In ornat stile, of Latine toung.
Triumphantly, beside hir raid,
First at hir entry, at the ports,
Trim Harangs, till hir grace wes maid,
Hir salutatioun, thair wes sung,
In ornat stile, of Latine toung.
Gif Ilionvs, had bene thair,
That oratour of eloquence,
I doubt, gif he could haue done mair,
For all his gret intelligence:
Declaring with a gret renown,
How sche wes welcome to the town.
That oratour of eloquence,
I doubt, gif he could haue done mair,
For all his gret intelligence:
Declaring with a gret renown,
How sche wes welcome to the town.
Nor Demades, quhois prais is pend,
In euerie part as we persaue,
Quho for his ornat style wes send,
Till Antipater pece to craue:
Thocht he wes eloquent and wise,
Na finer frais, he culd deuise.
In euerie part as we persaue,
Quho for his ornat style wes send,
Till Antipater pece to craue:
Thocht he wes eloquent and wise,
Na finer frais, he culd deuise.
All curious pastimes and consaits,
Culd be imaginat be man,
Wes to be sene on Edinburgh gaits:
Fra time that brauitie began:
Ye micht haif hard on euerie streit,
Trym melody, and musick sweit.
Culd be imaginat be man,
Wes to be sene on Edinburgh gaits:
Fra time that brauitie began:
Ye micht haif hard on euerie streit,
Trym melody, and musick sweit.
Thocht Philamon, his braith had blawin,
For musick, quho wes countit king,
His trumpal tune, had not ben knawin,
Sic sugrit voycis, thair did sing,
For thair the dascant did abound,
With the sweit diapason sound.
For musick, quho wes countit king,
His trumpal tune, had not ben knawin,
Sic sugrit voycis, thair did sing,
For thair the dascant did abound,
With the sweit diapason sound.
Tennour, and trebill with sweit sence,
Ilkane with pairts, gaif nots agane,
Fabourdoun fell, with decadence,
With priksang, and the singing plane:
Thair enfants sang, and barnely brudis,
Quho had bot new begun the mudis.
Ilkane with pairts, gaif nots agane,
Fabourdoun fell, with decadence,
With priksang, and the singing plane:
Thair enfants sang, and barnely brudis,
Quho had bot new begun the mudis.
Musiciners, thair pairts expond,
And als for joy, the bellis wer rung,
The instruments, did corospond,
Vnto the musick, quhilk wes sung:
All sort of instruments, wer thair,
As sindry can, the same declair.
And als for joy, the bellis wer rung,
The instruments, did corospond,
Vnto the musick, quhilk wes sung:
All sort of instruments, wer thair,
As sindry can, the same declair.
Organs and Regals, thair did carpe,
With thair gay goldin glittring strings,
Thair wes the Hautbois and the Harpe,
Playing maist sweit and pleasant springs:
And sum on Lutis, did play and sing,
Of instruments, the onely King.
With thair gay goldin glittring strings,
Thair wes the Hautbois and the Harpe,
Playing maist sweit and pleasant springs:
And sum on Lutis, did play and sing,
Of instruments, the onely King.
Viols and Virginals were heir,
With Girthorns, maist iucundious,
Trumpets and Tymbrels, maid gret beir,
With instruments melodious:
The Seistar and the Sumphion,
With Clarche pipe and Clarion.
With Girthorns, maist iucundious,
Trumpets and Tymbrels, maid gret beir,
With instruments melodious:
The Seistar and the Sumphion,
With Clarche pipe and Clarion.
Thir notes seemd heuinly sweit and hie,
And not like tunes terrestriall,
Apollo thair, appeird to be,
Thair sound, wes so celestiall:
O Pan, amang sick pleasant plais,
Thy rustik pipe, can haue na prais.
And not like tunes terrestriall,
Apollo thair, appeird to be,
Thair sound, wes so celestiall:
O Pan, amang sick pleasant plais,
Thy rustik pipe, can haue na prais.
Thocht Orphevs, gat gret commend,
For melodie, and gud ingine,
His cumly springs, had not bene kend,
Howbeid, that thay were maist deuine:
Nor Amphion, quho did begyn,
Na honour heir, he culd haue wyn.
For melodie, and gud ingine,
Howbeid, that thay were maist deuine:
Nor Amphion, quho did begyn,
Na honour heir, he culd haue wyn.
Anna, our welbelouit Queene,
Sat in hir goldin Coche so bricht,
And efter sche, thir things had seene,
Syne she beheld, ane heuinly sicht:
Of Nymphs, quho supit Nectar cauld,
Quhois brauities, can scarce be tauld.
Sat in hir goldin Coche so bricht,
And efter sche, thir things had seene,
Syne she beheld, ane heuinly sicht:
Of Nymphs, quho supit Nectar cauld,
Quhois brauities, can scarce be tauld.
Thir Nymphs, were plantit in this place,
As mony thousands, micht persaue,
Quho for thair bewties and gud grace,
Were chosin out amangst the laue:
Dianas Nymphs, thay may be namd,
Be ressoun, thay were vndefamd.
As mony thousands, micht persaue,
Quho for thair bewties and gud grace,
Were chosin out amangst the laue:
Dianas Nymphs, thay may be namd,
Be ressoun, thay were vndefamd.
The circumstance can not be told,
So strange, the mater dois apeir,
Sum were cled into claith of gold,
And sum in siluer, schining cleir:
Thair gouns, gaue glancing in the marke,
Thay were so wrocht, with goldsmith warke.
So strange, the mater dois apeir,
Sum were cled into claith of gold,
And sum in siluer, schining cleir:
Thair gouns, gaue glancing in the marke,
Thay were so wrocht, with goldsmith warke.
Mair brauer robes, were neuer bocht,
Queene Semeramvs, til aray,
With brodrie warke, thair bords wer wrocht,
O God, gif that that thair gouns wes gay:
With gubert warke, wrocht wondrous sure,
Purfild with gold and siluer pure.
Queene Semeramvs, til aray,
With brodrie warke, thair bords wer wrocht,
O God, gif that that thair gouns wes gay:
With gubert warke, wrocht wondrous sure,
Purfild with gold and siluer pure.
This far I may, thir Nymphs aduance,
Not speking rashly, by the richt,
Thair goldin robes, gaue not sick glance,
As did thair heuinly bewties bricht:
Nor zit, thair iewels in sic greis,
As did thair cumly cristall eis.
Not speking rashly, by the richt,
Thair goldin robes, gaue not sick glance,
As did thair heuinly bewties bricht:
As did thair cumly cristall eis.
Thair properties, for to repeit,
My dull ingine, can not disclose,
Thair hair, like threids of gold did gleit,
Thair facis, fragrant and formose:
White was thair hyd, thocht it wes hid,
Thair corall lips, like rosis rid.
My dull ingine, can not disclose,
Thair hair, like threids of gold did gleit,
Thair facis, fragrant and formose:
White was thair hyd, thocht it wes hid,
Thair corall lips, like rosis rid.
Sick Parragons, but peir or maik,
I wart, wes neuer seene before,
Na properties, thir Nymphs did laik,
Quhilk micht, thair cumly corps decore:
All gifts, quhilk creaturs can clame,
Dame nature, in thair corps did frame.
I wart, wes neuer seene before,
Na properties, thir Nymphs did laik,
Quhilk micht, thair cumly corps decore:
All gifts, quhilk creaturs can clame,
Dame nature, in thair corps did frame.
O Dioner, that hes the place,
And beirs Dame bewties bell, I say,
And thou O Daphne, fair of face,
Quha wes the God Apollos pray:
Gif that, thir virgens had bene thair,
He had esteemd thame meikill mair.
And beirs Dame bewties bell, I say,
And thou O Daphne, fair of face,
Quha wes the God Apollos pray:
Gif that, thir virgens had bene thair,
He had esteemd thame meikill mair.
O Evropa, as Poets schaws,
Quhome Ivpiter did lufe indeid,
He had acquite the, for thair caus,
Gif thay had bene, into thy steid:
He had not faild, this for to do,
And Paris likwais, Helen to.
Quhome Ivpiter did lufe indeid,
He had acquite the, for thair caus,
Gif thay had bene, into thy steid:
He had not faild, this for to do,
And Paris likwais, Helen to.
Had thay bene set, in Paris sicht,
As wes the Goddessis, I mene,
He scarce culd haue, discernit richt,
Quhome to the Apill did pertene:
Sick equall gifts, were in thame ludgt,
That thay culd skantlie weill be iudgt.
As wes the Goddessis, I mene,
He scarce culd haue, discernit richt,
Quhome to the Apill did pertene:
Sick equall gifts, were in thame ludgt,
That thay culd skantlie weill be iudgt.
Thir nobill Nymphis, maid reuerence,
With gesture liuely and allairt,
And efter thair obedience,
Hir Grace past to ane vther pairt:
Quhair sche, beheld sum to be schort,
A coutert, in ane sauadge sort.
With gesture liuely and allairt,
And efter thair obedience,
Hir Grace past to ane vther pairt:
Quhair sche, beheld sum to be schort,
A coutert, in ane sauadge sort.
Into the seruice of our Queene,
Thay offert thair maist willing mynds,
Thir are the Moirs, of quhom I mene,
Quha dois inhabit in the ynds:
Leuing thair land and dwelling place,
For to do honour to hir Grace.
Thay offert thair maist willing mynds,
Thir are the Moirs, of quhom I mene,
Quha dois inhabit in the ynds:
Leuing thair land and dwelling place,
For to do honour to hir Grace.
Thay haue na scant, nor indigence,
Quhair thay do dwell, and haue exces,
Nor zit thay haue na residence,
With Phavnvs, God of wildernes:
Bot thay do dwell, quhair thay were wont,
Beside Synerdas goldin mont.
Quhair thay do dwell, and haue exces,
Nor zit thay haue na residence,
With Phavnvs, God of wildernes:
Bot thay do dwell, quhair thay were wont,
Beside Synerdas goldin mont.
Thair precious Iewels till expreme,
And costly clethings to discriue,
My simple wit cannot esteme,
Agains the streme, quhy suld I striue:
Thocht I want language, wit and lair,
Yet as I can, I sall declair.
And costly clethings to discriue,
My simple wit cannot esteme,
Agains the streme, quhy suld I striue:
Thocht I want language, wit and lair,
Yet as I can, I sall declair.
Thir sauagis, I you assure,
Wer weil decord, as ye may knaw,
For sum wer cled in siluer pure,
And sum in Taffatie, white like snaw
Ay twa and twa, in ordour stands,
With battons blank, into thair hands.
Wer weil decord, as ye may knaw,
For sum wer cled in siluer pure,
And sum in Taffatie, white like snaw
Ay twa and twa, in ordour stands,
With battons blank, into thair hands.
The pretious stains, can not be pend,
With goldsmithis wark, wes thame amang,
Thair bodies skantly culd be kend,
For cheins, quhilk ouer thair shoulders hang:
Gold bracelets, on thair chakils hings,
Thair fingers full, of costly rings.
With goldsmithis wark, wes thame amang,
For cheins, quhilk ouer thair shoulders hang:
Gold bracelets, on thair chakils hings,
Thair fingers full, of costly rings.
That sicht, wes pleasant for to se,
And woundrous nobill, to behold,
Thair heids were garnisht gallandlie,
With costly crancis, maid of gold:
Braid blancis, hang aboue thair eis,
With iewels of all Histories.
And woundrous nobill, to behold,
Thair heids were garnisht gallandlie,
With costly crancis, maid of gold:
Braid blancis, hang aboue thair eis,
With iewels of all Histories.
Vpon thair forebrows, thay did beir,
Targats and Tablets, of trim warks,
Pendants and Carcants, shining cleir,
With Plumagis of gitie sparks:
Vpon thair hyndheids, set wes syne,
Buttons and brotchis, braue and fyne.
Targats and Tablets, of trim warks,
Pendants and Carcants, shining cleir,
With Plumagis of gitie sparks:
Vpon thair hyndheids, set wes syne,
Buttons and brotchis, braue and fyne.
And Mairatour, I call to mynd,
How euerie ane, had on thair front,
Ane Charbuncle of rubie kynd,
Togither with ane Diamont:
And doun thair Haffats hang anew,
Of Rubeis red, and Saphirs blew.
How euerie ane, had on thair front,
Ane Charbuncle of rubie kynd,
Togither with ane Diamont:
And doun thair Haffats hang anew,
Of Rubeis red, and Saphirs blew.
Into thair mouthis, as micht be seene,
Quha had bene tentife to behold,
Ane Emerauld, of colour greene,
Set in ane pretie ring of gold:
Syne thair wes hung, at thair hals bane,
The Espinell, a precious stane.
Quha had bene tentife to behold,
Ane Emerauld, of colour greene,
Set in ane pretie ring of gold:
Syne thair wes hung, at thair hals bane,
The Espinell, a precious stane.
Vpon thair brest, brauest of all,
Were precious pearls of the Eist,
The Rubie pallet and Th' opall,
Togither with the Amatist:
Thair micht ye se mangs mone mo,
The Topas and the Percudo.
Were precious pearls of the Eist,
The Rubie pallet and Th' opall,
Togither with the Amatist:
The Topas and the Percudo.
Vpoun thair richt pape maist perfite,
Thair I saw sindry stains beset,
The Garned and the Agat quhyte,
With mone mo, quhilk I forzet:
Besid thir twa did hing alone,
The Turcas and the Triapone.
Thair I saw sindry stains beset,
The Garned and the Agat quhyte,
With mone mo, quhilk I forzet:
Besid thir twa did hing alone,
The Turcas and the Triapone.
Vpoun the left wer likwais knit,
Twa proper stains of valure hie,
The Iasynth, and the Chessolit,
Iewels maist excellent to se:
Amangs the rest I saw athort,
The Rubie of the rarest sort.
Twa proper stains of valure hie,
The Iasynth, and the Chessolit,
Iewels maist excellent to se:
Amangs the rest I saw athort,
The Rubie of the rarest sort.
Fornents thair Nauillis euery one,
Bure precius Iewels braue and deir,
The Cornalene and Calcedon,
Quhilk of it self is quhyte and cleir:
Thay bure the Orphir on thair back,
Bot and the Onix gray and black.
Bure precius Iewels braue and deir,
The Cornalene and Calcedon,
Quhilk of it self is quhyte and cleir:
Thay bure the Orphir on thair back,
Bot and the Onix gray and black.
All precius stains micht thair be sene,
Quhilk in the world had ony name,
Saue that quhilk Cleopatra Queene,
Did swallow ore into hir wame:
The veritie for till expres,
That wes not thair I mon confes.
Quhilk in the world had ony name,
Saue that quhilk Cleopatra Queene,
Did swallow ore into hir wame:
The veritie for till expres,
That wes not thair I mon confes.
In Indea that goldin ground,
Mair brauitie culd neuer be,
The belts quhairwith thair waists wer bound
Wer goldin cheins as ye micht se:
Also with cheins both in and out,
Thair arms wer womplit round about.
Mair brauitie culd neuer be,
The belts quhairwith thair waists wer bound
Wer goldin cheins as ye micht se:
Also with cheins both in and out,
Thair arms wer womplit round about.
Let no man me esteme to raill,
Nor think that raschelie I report,
Thair theis wer likewais garnist haill,
With gold cheins of that saming sort:
Thair girtens wer of gold bestreik,
Thair Legs thairwith wer furneist eik,
Nor think that raschelie I report,
Thair theis wer likewais garnist haill,
With gold cheins of that saming sort:
Thair girtens wer of gold bestreik,
Thair Legs thairwith wer furneist eik,
Fra top to tæ I you assure,
Thair corps with gold wes birnist bricht,
Thay on thair feit, white buskins wure,
Of costly skins, baith trim and ticht:
To tell the treuth, and not to lie,
That sicht wes plesant for to se.
Thair corps with gold wes birnist bricht,
Thay on thair feit, white buskins wure,
Of costly skins, baith trim and ticht:
To tell the treuth, and not to lie,
That sicht wes plesant for to se.
Ilk ane in ordour keipit place,
Als weill the formest as the last,
Thir Moirs, did mertch befoir hir grace,
Quhile sche intill hir Pallace past:
Far better bakit, nor ane Laird,
With Burgisses to be thair gaird.
Als weill the formest as the last,
Thir Moirs, did mertch befoir hir grace,
Quhile sche intill hir Pallace past:
Far better bakit, nor ane Laird,
With Burgisses to be thair gaird.
I haue forzet, how in a Robe,
Of clenely crispe, side to his kneis,
A bony boy out of the Globe,
Gaue to hir grace, the siluer Keis:
And how that he his harang maid,
With countenance, quhilk did not faid,
Of clenely crispe, side to his kneis,
A bony boy out of the Globe,
Gaue to hir grace, the siluer Keis:
And how that he his harang maid,
With countenance, quhilk did not faid,
Als I forzet, how wes declaird,
Our nobill Kings genalogie,
And now the folks, quha were in ward,
Wer frely set at libertie:
For to be schort, thay spent that day,
In pastime, daliance and deray.
Our nobill Kings genalogie,
And now the folks, quha were in ward,
Wer frely set at libertie:
For to be schort, thay spent that day,
In pastime, daliance and deray.
Forzetting als, the Burgis tryne,
Without discriptioun of thair cace,
Not speiking of the riche propine,
Quhilk thay did giue vnto hir grace:
Nor how thay bure the vaill abreid,
Quhilk hang aboue hir gracis heid.
Without discriptioun of thair cace,
Quhilk thay did giue vnto hir grace:
Nor how thay bure the vaill abreid,
Quhilk hang aboue hir gracis heid.
Gif I in mind, suld nocht omit,
Bot intill ordour, all resolue,
The vollume, wald be woundrous grit,
And very tedious to reuolue:
Leuing the rest for to declair,
Vnto thair memors, quho wer thair.
Bot intill ordour, all resolue,
The vollume, wald be woundrous grit,
And very tedious to reuolue:
Leuing the rest for to declair,
Vnto thair memors, quho wer thair.
The Burgessis maist honorablie,
Vpoun hir grace, did still atend,
To tyme the haill solemnitie,
And trim triumphe wes put to end:
Sum speciall men, that wer imployd,
Into hir palace hir conuoyd.
Vpoun hir grace, did still atend,
To tyme the haill solemnitie,
And trim triumphe wes put to end:
Sum speciall men, that wer imployd,
Into hir palace hir conuoyd.
The nomber of them that wer thair,
I sall discriue them as I can,
My Lord I mene the maister Mair,
The Prouest ane maist prudent man:
With the haill counsall of the toun
Ilkane cled in a veluet goun.
I sall discriue them as I can,
My Lord I mene the maister Mair,
The Prouest ane maist prudent man:
With the haill counsall of the toun
Ilkane cled in a veluet goun.
That company quha did espy,
The mater wes magnificall,
The vther Burgissis forby,
Wer cled in thair pontificall:
Presenting them before hir face,
Offring thair seruice to hir grace.
The mater wes magnificall,
The vther Burgissis forby,
Wer cled in thair pontificall:
Presenting them before hir face,
Offring thair seruice to hir grace.
Dout my dull sensis dois desaue,
With mair magnificence I mene,
Gif that the Persians did resaue,
King Darivs wife that nobill Queene:
Quhen sche did enter with renown,
In Tipatra that nobill town.
With mair magnificence I mene,
Gif that the Persians did resaue,
King Darivs wife that nobill Queene:
In Tipatra that nobill town.
O Edinburghe now will I sing,
Thy prais quhilk the perteins of richt,
Thou hes bene ay trewe to thy King,
In doing seruice day and nicht:
Quhen that his grace did haif ado,
And in the fields ay formest to.
Thy prais quhilk the perteins of richt,
Thou hes bene ay trewe to thy King,
In doing seruice day and nicht:
Quhen that his grace did haif ado,
And in the fields ay formest to.
Not sparing for to spend thair blud,
Into thair breists thay bure sic loue,
I say no more, so I conclud,
Bot I beseik the God aboue:
Gif that it be his godly will,
That thy estait may fluris still.
Into thair breists thay bure sic loue,
I say no more, so I conclud,
Bot I beseik the God aboue:
Gif that it be his godly will,
That thy estait may fluris still.
FINIS.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
THE PASSAGE OF THE PILGREMER, DEVIDIT INTO TVVA PAIRTS.
As I went throw ane wood sauage,
As did Æneas to Carthage,
Compast with clouds about,
I wanderd, and I wist not quhair,
As ane mad man, into dispair:
astonisht to wyn out.
The wode wes gret, and wondrous lang,
Of lenth and largitude,
The treis thairof, war stark and strang,
And full of fortitude:
Amasing, and gasing,
Thir treis for to behald,
So schenlie, and menelie,
Thair tops thay did dounfald.
As did Æneas to Carthage,
Compast with clouds about,
I wanderd, and I wist not quhair,
As ane mad man, into dispair:
astonisht to wyn out.
The wode wes gret, and wondrous lang,
Of lenth and largitude,
The treis thairof, war stark and strang,
And full of fortitude:
Amasing, and gasing,
Thir treis for to behald,
So schenlie, and menelie,
Thair tops thay did dounfald.
I saw the Ashtre and the Aik,
That Æolvs gart yeild and zaik,
By his maist bitter blast,
Thocht thay were strang, he gart thame stoup
And all the trees into that troup,
That war affixit fast:
The storme so bitterlie brake out,
as wonder wes to se,
The boriall blasts, with mony schout,
In that forrest did fle:
Not caldly, bot baldlie,
Thay thudit throw the treis,
With rairding, and fairding,
On hie the fier fleis.
That Æolvs gart yeild and zaik,
By his maist bitter blast,
Thocht thay were strang, he gart thame stoup
And all the trees into that troup,
That war affixit fast:
The storme so bitterlie brake out,
as wonder wes to se,
The boriall blasts, with mony schout,
In that forrest did fle:
Not caldly, bot baldlie,
Thay thudit throw the treis,
With rairding, and fairding,
The air, wes than vntemperat,
And with rubie skies, ranculat,
Mixit with weit and wind,
And euery fleing foul that fed,
Ran bissilie hame to thair bed,
Rest and repose to find,
Not onely fleing fouls I say,
Bot beists of diuers kynds,
Laich on the ground, richt lawly lay,
Amasit in thair mynds:
Sum shaking, and quaking,
For feir, as I esteeme,
Oretowting, and rowting,
Into that storme extreme.
And with rubie skies, ranculat,
Mixit with weit and wind,
And euery fleing foul that fed,
Ran bissilie hame to thair bed,
Rest and repose to find,
Not onely fleing fouls I say,
Bot beists of diuers kynds,
Laich on the ground, richt lawly lay,
Amasit in thair mynds:
Sum shaking, and quaking,
For feir, as I esteeme,
Oretowting, and rowting,
Into that storme extreme.
The Lyon and the Leopard,
From louping, and scouping war skard,
And faine for to fall doun,
And als, the awfull Vnicorne,
For all his bost, wes not forborne,
Thocht he wes nixt the croun:
Likwais the Beir, that bitter beist,
Wes fellonlie afraid,
And all the Wolfis, ran west and eist,
Trowing to be betraid:
Deploring, and roring,
Wes in that wildernes,
Sum lying, sum trying,
The cours of cairfulnes.
From louping, and scouping war skard,
And faine for to fall doun,
And als, the awfull Vnicorne,
For all his bost, wes not forborne,
Thocht he wes nixt the croun:
Likwais the Beir, that bitter beist,
Wes fellonlie afraid,
And all the Wolfis, ran west and eist,
Trowing to be betraid:
Deploring, and roring,
Wes in that wildernes,
Sum lying, sum trying,
The cours of cairfulnes.
The Drummadrareis left thair feists,
With Tygers and tyrannius beists,
Thay war so faine to flit,
Thair wes the fals Camelion,
With the big Eliphant anon,
A beist of bodie grit,
Howbeid, he be maist corpolent,
Zit durst he not repose,
Quhair he wes wont for to frequent,
The storme so strangely rose:
Thir two now, did go now,
Sum solit pairt to find,
To waird thame, and gaird thame,
From bitter blaists of wind.
With Tygers and tyrannius beists,
Thay war so faine to flit,
Thair wes the fals Camelion,
With the big Eliphant anon,
A beist of bodie grit,
Zit durst he not repose,
Quhair he wes wont for to frequent,
The storme so strangely rose:
Thir two now, did go now,
Sum solit pairt to find,
To waird thame, and gaird thame,
From bitter blaists of wind.
The Hart, with his fair forked horns,
Quhois pikes is sharpe, as ony thorns:
Richt lawly did doun ly,
So fast the Deir ran to his den,
His coulour, I culd skantlie ken,
Or portrature espy.
The wilie Tod came by me to,
With violence and speid,
For feir the he Fox, left the scho,
He wes in sick a dreid:
Quhiles louping, and scowping,
Ouer bushis, banks, and brais,
Quhiles wandring, quhiles dandring,
Like royd and wilzart rais.
Quhois pikes is sharpe, as ony thorns:
Richt lawly did doun ly,
So fast the Deir ran to his den,
His coulour, I culd skantlie ken,
Or portrature espy.
The wilie Tod came by me to,
With violence and speid,
For feir the he Fox, left the scho,
He wes in sick a dreid:
Quhiles louping, and scowping,
Ouer bushis, banks, and brais,
Quhiles wandring, quhiles dandring,
Like royd and wilzart rais.
The Wildbair, that wanhappie beist,
Quhois tusks of lenth, war at the leist,
Ane quarter lang and mair,
Into ane furie, he ran fast,
Throw all the placis quhair he past,
With mony rout and rair:
Also the Wood Dog, did sicklike,
The storme for till eschew,
This cruell and tyrannius tyke,
Vpon the hard treis knew:
No swaging, his raging,
Micht mittigat or meis,
Sick badnes, and madnes,
Throw kind he did aqueis.
Quhois tusks of lenth, war at the leist,
Ane quarter lang and mair,
Into ane furie, he ran fast,
Throw all the placis quhair he past,
With mony rout and rair:
Also the Wood Dog, did sicklike,
The storme for till eschew,
This cruell and tyrannius tyke,
Vpon the hard treis knew:
No swaging, his raging,
Micht mittigat or meis,
Sick badnes, and madnes,
The Wildcat worst of all the laue,
Into that pairt I did persaue,
Fleing for his refuge,
The storme was so outragius,
And with rumlings oragius,
That I for feare did gruge:
Than out that come the akquart Aip,
That Murgens wont to mak,
Richt narowly I saw him scaip,
Vnbreking of his bak:
He hang so, and flang so,
Fast felterd be the feit,
His haist than, had maist than,
Cost him ane winding sheit.
Into that pairt I did persaue,
Fleing for his refuge,
The storme was so outragius,
And with rumlings oragius,
That I for feare did gruge:
Than out that come the akquart Aip,
That Murgens wont to mak,
Richt narowly I saw him scaip,
Vnbreking of his bak:
He hang so, and flang so,
Fast felterd be the feit,
His haist than, had maist than,
Cost him ane winding sheit.
Out come the gyrnen Gennet syne,
With vther twasum in a tryne,
All of ane quantitie,
For faircenes, sum fell on thair face,
So raschely thay ran out thair race,
To keip gud companie:
Thair wes na bus, culd hald them bak,
So trimly thay culd scoup,
Nor yet no Tike, culd them oretak,
So lichtlly thay did loup:
Not playing, but braying,
To se that tempest than,
Amaisdlie, and baisdlie,
Richt bissilie thay ran.
With vther twasum in a tryne,
All of ane quantitie,
For faircenes, sum fell on thair face,
So raschely thay ran out thair race,
To keip gud companie:
Thair wes na bus, culd hald them bak,
So trimly thay culd scoup,
Nor yet no Tike, culd them oretak,
So lichtlly thay did loup:
Not playing, but braying,
To se that tempest than,
Amaisdlie, and baisdlie,
Richt bissilie thay ran.
Thair wes the Pikit Porcapie,
The Cunning, and the Con all thrie,
Merchen amangs the rest,
I wat thay wantit na gud will,
To ryn with all speid possibill,
Quhill thay wan to thair nest:
Also the Hare I haue forzet,
The spediest of all,
His hasty rinning maid him het,
Nane neidit him to call:
Not tyring, nor myring,
Among the mossis deipe,
Bot tichtly, and richtly,
His awin cours he did keipe.
The Cunning, and the Con all thrie,
Merchen amangs the rest,
I wat thay wantit na gud will,
To ryn with all speid possibill,
Also the Hare I haue forzet,
The spediest of all,
His hasty rinning maid him het,
Nane neidit him to call:
Not tyring, nor myring,
Among the mossis deipe,
Bot tichtly, and richtly,
His awin cours he did keipe.
Out come the Edder at the last,
Vpon his wamb crieping ful fast,
Seikand ane hole to hyde him,
Bot becaus he was venimus,
And for to touch contagius,
No beist wald byde beside him:
Vpon his wamb thus wayis he went,
Maist miserablie thair,
For na beist with him wald frequent,
Nor cum vndir his snair:
Thay dred so, and fled so,
From his societie,
That nane thair, his wane thair
Wald support or supplie.
Vpon his wamb crieping ful fast,
Seikand ane hole to hyde him,
Bot becaus he was venimus,
And for to touch contagius,
No beist wald byde beside him:
Vpon his wamb thus wayis he went,
Maist miserablie thair,
For na beist with him wald frequent,
Nor cum vndir his snair:
Thay dred so, and fled so,
From his societie,
That nane thair, his wane thair
Wald support or supplie.
The Basilique that beist maling,
Of Serpents quhilk is countit King,
Ran quhill he wes the war,
Thair was the Viper, and th' aspect,
With the serpent Cheliderect,
Quhois stink is felt a far:
Thair was the serpent Cencrastus,
A beist of filthy braith,
And als the Serpent Cerastus,
Quhois byte brings sudden deith:
Thir Vipers, and cripers,
amang the grene gars lay,
Doun louring, and couring,
Quhill storme wes went away.
Of Serpents quhilk is countit King,
Ran quhill he wes the war,
Thair was the Viper, and th' aspect,
With the serpent Cheliderect,
Quhois stink is felt a far:
Thair was the serpent Cencrastus,
A beist of filthy braith,
And als the Serpent Cerastus,
Quhois byte brings sudden deith:
Thir Vipers, and cripers,
amang the grene gars lay,
Doun louring, and couring,
The Fumart and the Fittret straue,
The deip and howest hole to haue,
That wes in all the wood,
About the trie ruts thir twa ran,
Zit all in vaine na thing thay wan,
Bot did thole mony thud:
For cauld they war discomfeist clene,
The schowrs wer sa seueir,
Bot I who was ane pure Pilgren
And half ane stronimeir:
Forschew thair, and knew thair,
Sic tempest suld betyde,
Than ran I, and wan I,
In ane hole me to hyde.
The deip and howest hole to haue,
That wes in all the wood,
About the trie ruts thir twa ran,
Zit all in vaine na thing thay wan,
Bot did thole mony thud:
For cauld they war discomfeist clene,
The schowrs wer sa seueir,
Bot I who was ane pure Pilgren
And half ane stronimeir:
Forschew thair, and knew thair,
Sic tempest suld betyde,
Than ran I, and wan I,
In ane hole me to hyde.
Out come the Quhitteret furthwith,
Ane littill beist of lim and lith,
And of ane sober schaip,
To haue ane hole he had grit hast,
Zit in the wood thair was nane wast,
To harberie that iaip:
Than out that come the Modiwart,
Ane beist throw nature blind,
Quho fast the eirth culd scraip and scart,
Rest and refuge to finde:
Quhiles dodling, and todling,
Vpon fowr prettie feit,
Quhiles scrubbing, quhiles rubbing,
The ground quhair it was weit.
Ane littill beist of lim and lith,
And of ane sober schaip,
To haue ane hole he had grit hast,
Zit in the wood thair was nane wast,
To harberie that iaip:
Than out that come the Modiwart,
Ane beist throw nature blind,
Quho fast the eirth culd scraip and scart,
Rest and refuge to finde:
Quhiles dodling, and todling,
Vpon fowr prettie feit,
Quhiles scrubbing, quhiles rubbing,
The ground quhair it was weit.
Thir beists heir befoir nominat,
May esilie be numerat,
The calcull is bot small,
For by thir beists I saw anew,
Quhois nams befoir I neuir knew,
Nor how men did thame call:
Sick beists as I had seene before,
Thair names I did reteene,
Bot thair wes mony in that store,
That I had neuer seene:
Sum mikill, sum littill,
Of mony syndrie sort,
That hantit, and plantit,
That place to be thair port.
May esilie be numerat,
The calcull is bot small,
For by thir beists I saw anew,
Quhois nams befoir I neuir knew,
Sick beists as I had seene before,
Thair names I did reteene,
Bot thair wes mony in that store,
That I had neuer seene:
Sum mikill, sum littill,
Of mony syndrie sort,
That hantit, and plantit,
That place to be thair port.
Sum proper were of portrature,
Of lith and lim, pretie and pure,
and hantsum to behald,
Quhois nams, I na wais culd expreme,
Nor to my iudgement weill esteme,
The flox into that fald:
It wes ane wonder for to se,
So gret ane multitude,
Without all mediocritie,
Amangst the treis that stud:
Eschewing, the dewing,
Of ranie Orion,
That dropit, and knopit,
Baith vpon tre and stone.
Of lith and lim, pretie and pure,
and hantsum to behald,
Quhois nams, I na wais culd expreme,
Nor to my iudgement weill esteme,
The flox into that fald:
It wes ane wonder for to se,
So gret ane multitude,
Without all mediocritie,
Amangst the treis that stud:
Eschewing, the dewing,
Of ranie Orion,
That dropit, and knopit,
Baith vpon tre and stone.
Quhat farlie than thocht fouls that fleis,
With gret pains and perplexiteis,
War greuously tormentit,
Quhen gret wild beists, of lim and lith,
Imployd with pissance strenth and pith,
For feir, thame selfis absentit:
And into hols and bors thame hyd,
The storme for till eschew,
For quhy, the wind, with mony quhyd,
Maist bitterly thair blew:
With quhirling, and dirling,
The fudder fell so thick,
Doun dryuing, and ryuing,
The leiues that thay did lick.
With gret pains and perplexiteis,
War greuously tormentit,
Quhen gret wild beists, of lim and lith,
Imployd with pissance strenth and pith,
For feir, thame selfis absentit:
And into hols and bors thame hyd,
The storme for till eschew,
For quhy, the wind, with mony quhyd,
Maist bitterly thair blew:
With quhirling, and dirling,
The fudder fell so thick,
The leiues that thay did lick.
First Iovis foule, the Eagill fair,
I saw discend down from the air,
Syne to the wood went he,
The Hiron and the fleing Hairt,
Come fleing from ane vther pairt,
beside him for to be:
Ane fellon tryne, com at his taill,
Fast flichtren throw the skise,
Bot suddenly, that scull did skaill,
Thairfore thay war mair wise:
Than fled thay, and sched thay,
Euery ane from ane vdder,
Doun louching, and coutching,
To fle the flichts of fudder.
I saw discend down from the air,
Syne to the wood went he,
The Hiron and the fleing Hairt,
Come fleing from ane vther pairt,
beside him for to be:
Ane fellon tryne, com at his taill,
Fast flichtren throw the skise,
Bot suddenly, that scull did skaill,
Thairfore thay war mair wise:
Than fled thay, and sched thay,
Euery ane from ane vdder,
Doun louching, and coutching,
To fle the flichts of fudder.
The fierie Dragon, flew on hie,
Out throw the skies, richt cutterlie,
Syne to the ground come doun,
Into ane furie fast he flew,
To haue an hald, him to reskew,
As strangers to ane toun:
Nixt come the Gorgoull and the Graip,
Twa feirfull fouls indeid,
Quho vsis oft to like and laip,
The blud of bodies deid:
Thame druging, and ruging,
With thair maist cruell clukis,
Sik hashing, and knashing,
Cums not of clenlie cukis.
Out throw the skies, richt cutterlie,
Syne to the ground come doun,
Into ane furie fast he flew,
To haue an hald, him to reskew,
As strangers to ane toun:
Nixt come the Gorgoull and the Graip,
Twa feirfull fouls indeid,
Quho vsis oft to like and laip,
The blud of bodies deid:
Thame druging, and ruging,
With thair maist cruell clukis,
Sik hashing, and knashing,
Cums not of clenlie cukis.
The Airne and the Goshalk syne,
That dentely had wont to dyne,
On Pairtrik and on Pliuer,
With feir, thair famin wes forzet,
With blasts of wind thay war so bet,
And lancit throw the liuer:
With the schairp speir of apetyte,
Howbeid, thair harts was perst
Yit thay for meit, caird not ane myte,
Nor zit no succour cerst:
So fain than, vnslain than,
Thameselfs they wald haue keipit,
That surelie, maist purelie,
Vpon the ground thay creipit.
That dentely had wont to dyne,
On Pairtrik and on Pliuer,
With feir, thair famin wes forzet,
And lancit throw the liuer:
With the schairp speir of apetyte,
Howbeid, thair harts was perst
Yit thay for meit, caird not ane myte,
Nor zit no succour cerst:
So fain than, vnslain than,
Thameselfs they wald haue keipit,
That surelie, maist purelie,
Vpon the ground thay creipit.
Quhat suld I say, the Gok, the Gled,
With speidie flycht, richt fast thay fled,
From feding on the plaine,
And thair I saw the milke quhyte Swan,
Conuoy the Wodcock and the Cran,
Of quhome thay war richt faine:
The Bisset and the Corbe baith,
Flew fast befoir the laue,
Laith war thay to kep ony skaith,
Or ony harme to haue:
So slelie, and frelie,
From dangers thay thame fred,
In speiding, exceiding,
All vthers into tred.
With speidie flycht, richt fast thay fled,
From feding on the plaine,
And thair I saw the milke quhyte Swan,
Conuoy the Wodcock and the Cran,
Of quhome thay war richt faine:
The Bisset and the Corbe baith,
Flew fast befoir the laue,
Laith war thay to kep ony skaith,
Or ony harme to haue:
So slelie, and frelie,
From dangers thay thame fred,
In speiding, exceiding,
All vthers into tred.
The Houlet and the Herison,
Out of the airt Septentrion,
Come with ane feirfull voce,
The Houlet had sick awfull cryis,
Thay corrospondit in the skyis,
As wind within a boce:
Quhois cryis and clamours terius,
I compair to the zell,
Of that gret tike Cyberius,
The cruell hound of hell:
Quhois zouling, and gouling,
I haue na will to heir,
Sick singing, and springing,
Is irksum to the eir.
Out of the airt Septentrion,
Come with ane feirfull voce,
The Houlet had sick awfull cryis,
Thay corrospondit in the skyis,
As wind within a boce:
Quhois cryis and clamours terius,
I compair to the zell,
Of that gret tike Cyberius,
The cruell hound of hell:
Quhois zouling, and gouling,
Sick singing, and springing,
Is irksum to the eir.
The Arrondell so swift of flicht,
Doun on the land richt law did licht,
So sore he wes oprest,
The Alcions lykwais left the See,
And to the schore richt fast culd flee,
For to recouer rest:
The Calicrat, that lytle thing,
Bot, and the hony Bie,
That wont before, to skip and spring,
Into the air so hie:
With mumming, and bumming,
The Bee now seiks his byke,
Quhils stinging, quhils flinging,
From hole to hole did fyke.
Doun on the land richt law did licht,
So sore he wes oprest,
The Alcions lykwais left the See,
And to the schore richt fast culd flee,
For to recouer rest:
The Calicrat, that lytle thing,
Bot, and the hony Bie,
That wont before, to skip and spring,
Into the air so hie:
With mumming, and bumming,
The Bee now seiks his byke,
Quhils stinging, quhils flinging,
From hole to hole did fyke.
The Cygonie, that foul so whyte,
Quhilk at the Serpents hes despyte,
Come granen to the ground,
And Mamuks, that byds euer mair,
And feids into the cristall air,
Deid on the feilds wer found:
The Gru, before me thair apeirs,
Quhois legs wer lang and syde,
From the Septentrion quhilk reteirs,
Into the winter tyde:
This foul now, did zoull now,
As it had bene ane beist,
Quhyls quhinging, quhyls cringing,
With paine it wes so preist.
Quhilk at the Serpents hes despyte,
Come granen to the ground,
And Mamuks, that byds euer mair,
And feids into the cristall air,
Deid on the feilds wer found:
The Gru, before me thair apeirs,
Quhois legs wer lang and syde,
From the Septentrion quhilk reteirs,
Into the winter tyde:
This foul now, did zoull now,
As it had bene ane beist,
Quhyls quhinging, quhyls cringing,
With paine it wes so preist.
The Tuquheit and the Sterling than,
Togidder with the Pelican,
Flew in ane randell richt,
The Piet and the Papingo,
With the Goldspink I saw thame go,
Syne laich thay did doun licht:
Behaulding thir horrible things,
Almaist, my eis grew blind,
To se thair pretie spirtlet wings,
So felterd with the wind:
Dispairit, I stairit,
Vp to the element,
Behalding, thair walding,
How thay in ordour went.
Togidder with the Pelican,
Flew in ane randell richt,
With the Goldspink I saw thame go,
Syne laich thay did doun licht:
Behaulding thir horrible things,
Almaist, my eis grew blind,
To se thair pretie spirtlet wings,
So felterd with the wind:
Dispairit, I stairit,
Vp to the element,
Behalding, thair walding,
How thay in ordour went.
The Merle and the Mauice trig,
Flew from the bush quher thay did big,
Syne tuke thame to the flicht,
The Osill and the Rosignell,
The Phœnix and the Nichtingell,
Twa fouls baith fair and bricht:
Quhois pretie wings I did persaue,
So spurtlit and so spred,
Thir fouls, I couit faine to haue,
So clerlie thay war cled:
Thair hew so, furth schew so,
To my twa mortall eis,
That I thair, stud by thair,
Contempling to the treis.
Flew from the bush quher thay did big,
Syne tuke thame to the flicht,
The Osill and the Rosignell,
The Phœnix and the Nichtingell,
Twa fouls baith fair and bricht:
Quhois pretie wings I did persaue,
So spurtlit and so spred,
Thir fouls, I couit faine to haue,
So clerlie thay war cled:
Thair hew so, furth schew so,
To my twa mortall eis,
That I thair, stud by thair,
Contempling to the treis.
The Stainzell, and the Schakerstane,
Behind the laue, war left alane,
With waiting on thair marows,
The snype, with sundry vther fouls,
With cairfull cries, laments and youls,
And specially pure Sparrows:
The meikill fouls war not to mene,
So meikill as the small,
Zit thay did meikill to mentene,
Thair bodies out of thrall:
Fast fallowing, with wallowing,
And mony cairfull cry,
Intransit, I pansit,
Thair panis for till espy.
Behind the laue, war left alane,
With waiting on thair marows,
The snype, with sundry vther fouls,
With cairfull cries, laments and youls,
And specially pure Sparrows:
The meikill fouls war not to mene,
So meikill as the small,
Zit thay did meikill to mentene,
Thair bodies out of thrall:
And mony cairfull cry,
Intransit, I pansit,
Thair panis for till espy.
The Hobbie and the Hedder bluter,
Aloud the Gæ to be thair tuter,
Thame to conduct and gyde,
The Cucko and the Couchet can,
The Lawrok and the littill wran,
Had sikker be thair syde:
And mairatour I tell to zow,
The Pown I did persaue,
Togidder with the turtill Dow,
The last of all the laue:
This fidder, togidder,
Vnto the wood ar went:
Sum murning, and turning,
Into the firmament.
Aloud the Gæ to be thair tuter,
Thame to conduct and gyde,
The Cucko and the Couchet can,
The Lawrok and the littill wran,
Had sikker be thair syde:
And mairatour I tell to zow,
The Pown I did persaue,
Togidder with the turtill Dow,
The last of all the laue:
This fidder, togidder,
Vnto the wood ar went:
Sum murning, and turning,
Into the firmament.
Of ilk perticuler fowle to treit,
It war ouir tedious to repeit,
Quhairfore I thocht it best,
In this cathaloge to conuene
Ane bonie nomber, bot I mene,
Renouncing all the rest:
Bot as I spak to zow before,
Tuitching the multitude,
I wat thair was ten thousand score
Of birds and beists maist brude:
To ken tham, or pen tham,
My wit it wes to waik,
Or zit thair, to sit thair,
On sik consaits to glaik.
It war ouir tedious to repeit,
Quhairfore I thocht it best,
In this cathaloge to conuene
Ane bonie nomber, bot I mene,
Renouncing all the rest:
Bot as I spak to zow before,
Tuitching the multitude,
I wat thair was ten thousand score
Of birds and beists maist brude:
To ken tham, or pen tham,
My wit it wes to waik,
Or zit thair, to sit thair,
On sik consaits to glaik.
I was afflixit in my mynde,
And als with caris I was inclynd,
To be in sick a stait,
I hapnit in ane wildernes,
Quhair I chanst to gang in beges,
Be ganging out the gait:
Vainly and temerariuslie,
Into that pairt I past,
Bot he that wald faine fairles sie,
Sall find thame at the last:
Belyue syne, aryue syne,
Within the wood did I,
Quhair I ay, did spy ay,
Wyld beists fast rynning by.
And als with caris I was inclynd,
I hapnit in ane wildernes,
Quhair I chanst to gang in beges,
Be ganging out the gait:
Vainly and temerariuslie,
Into that pairt I past,
Bot he that wald faine fairles sie,
Sall find thame at the last:
Belyue syne, aryue syne,
Within the wood did I,
Quhair I ay, did spy ay,
Wyld beists fast rynning by.
Fra time I enterd in that pairt,
I saw na passage to depairt,
Nor entrie to win out,
To heir the Wildbeists bray and beir,
My febill flesh, did faint for feir,
Na takin I was stout:
God wat, gif I wes in gret paine,
I wist not quhair to ryn,
Nor zit culd find the gait againe,
First, quhair I enterd in:
Bot tauren, and dauren,
Like ane daft doitit fule,
Afflikit, and prickit,
With dairts of cair and dule.
I saw na passage to depairt,
Nor entrie to win out,
To heir the Wildbeists bray and beir,
My febill flesh, did faint for feir,
Na takin I was stout:
God wat, gif I wes in gret paine,
I wist not quhair to ryn,
Nor zit culd find the gait againe,
First, quhair I enterd in:
Bot tauren, and dauren,
Like ane daft doitit fule,
Afflikit, and prickit,
With dairts of cair and dule.
How culd I be, bot full of cair,
And halflings put into dispair,
So to be left alone,
Quhair I with na man micht confar,
Nor zit within ten myls wes nar,
Till ony toune or waine
The tempest did continew still,
Thair wes baith weit and wynd,
And Evrvs with loud schouts and schill,
His braith begoud to fynd:
With quhewing, renewing,
His bitter blaists againe,
Seueirly, not sneirly,
To you, I make it plaine.
And halflings put into dispair,
So to be left alone,
Quhair I with na man micht confar,
Nor zit within ten myls wes nar,
Till ony toune or waine
The tempest did continew still,
Thair wes baith weit and wynd,
And Evrvs with loud schouts and schill,
With quhewing, renewing,
His bitter blaists againe,
Seueirly, not sneirly,
To you, I make it plaine.
The wadder wes not lyke to mend,
Nor zit, to draw to ony end,
Quhairthrow it micht be fair,
Bot ay the Tempest did acres,
And na waies lykin to grow les,
Bot rather to be mair.
The Wyldbeists crap doun quietlie,
The wedder was so rud,
For thay micht haue no facultie,
To pas and seik thair fud:
The tall beists, the small beists,
Did eit and slae thairfore,
The meikill fouls, the litill fouls,
In lykwais did deuore.
Nor zit, to draw to ony end,
Quhairthrow it micht be fair,
Bot ay the Tempest did acres,
And na waies lykin to grow les,
Bot rather to be mair.
The Wyldbeists crap doun quietlie,
The wedder was so rud,
For thay micht haue no facultie,
To pas and seik thair fud:
The tall beists, the small beists,
Did eit and slae thairfore,
The meikill fouls, the litill fouls,
In lykwais did deuore.
The ritch, the pureons ay oprest,
I mene the meikillest, ay the lest,
Dulfullie did doun thring,
Without all pitie or respect,
Of the inferiours threw the nek,
Quhilk wes ane cruell thing:
Gif ony persoun maist prophane,
Wald call sick slauchter syne,
It may be answert heir agane,
Neid nakit man gars ryne:
Gret neid than, indeid than,
Compeld thame so to do,
Or els thair, thame selfs thair,
For till haue perisht to.
I mene the meikillest, ay the lest,
Dulfullie did doun thring,
Without all pitie or respect,
Of the inferiours threw the nek,
Quhilk wes ane cruell thing:
Gif ony persoun maist prophane,
Wald call sick slauchter syne,
It may be answert heir agane,
Neid nakit man gars ryne:
Gret neid than, indeid than,
Compeld thame so to do,
Or els thair, thame selfs thair,
For till haue perisht to.
Thay culd nat do na les indeid,
Seing that thair was na remeid,
Bot ether do or die:
Gif vtherwayis thay micht haue done,
Thay had run furth and socht it sone,
Bot so it micht not bie:
Thair harts with hunger was so peirst,
That thay behou'd haue fude,
For this caus thay baith socht and serst,
How thay micht haue thair blude:
Begyling, and syling,
The eies of sillie beists,
Thame taking, and making,
Prouision for thair feists.
Bot ether do or die:
Gif vtherwayis thay micht haue done,
Thay had run furth and socht it sone,
Bot so it micht not bie:
Thair harts with hunger was so peirst,
That thay behou'd haue fude,
For this caus thay baith socht and serst,
How thay micht haue thair blude:
Begyling, and syling,
The eies of sillie beists,
Thame taking, and making,
Prouision for thair feists.
The litill beists maid hauie mane,
With the grit beists to be oretane,
And so to be destroyed,
Thair murning micht thame na thing mend
Bot only thair to mak ane end,
Of that quhilk thay enioyed:
Within that Wildernes desart,
thair was grit nomber slane,
The wyld foulis on the vther part,
Did play the counterpane:
Abusing, and vsing,
The small fouls at thair will,
But treitie, or pitie,
Not sparing it to spill.
With the grit beists to be oretane,
And so to be destroyed,
Thair murning micht thame na thing mend
Bot only thair to mak ane end,
Of that quhilk thay enioyed:
Within that Wildernes desart,
thair was grit nomber slane,
The wyld foulis on the vther part,
Did play the counterpane:
Abusing, and vsing,
The small fouls at thair will,
But treitie, or pitie,
Not sparing it to spill.
Sum fled for feir to saue them sels,
And vther sum with zouts and zels,
Maist cairfully did cry,
Gif thay had caus our selfis may iuge,
Seing that thair was na refuge,
How that thay micht win by:
Bot as the foular casts his cair,
His catch for to preuent,
So thay war trapit in the snair,
Into ane accident:
Still wating, and gating,
Quhyll thay war all oretane,
Dispaching, and knashing,
In ordour, ane and ane.
And vther sum with zouts and zels,
Maist cairfully did cry,
Gif thay had caus our selfis may iuge,
Seing that thair was na refuge,
How that thay micht win by:
Bot as the foular casts his cair,
His catch for to preuent,
Into ane accident:
Still wating, and gating,
Quhyll thay war all oretane,
Dispaching, and knashing,
In ordour, ane and ane.
Than struke ane terror in my mynd,
For to persaue, thir pure beists pynd,
Quhilk micht make na debait,
Gret broucherie and bludshed maid,
About the pairt, quhair I abaid,
Sick wes thair wofull stait:
Astonisht I stud, trymbling thair,
Forfant, for verie feir,
And as the sillie huntit hair,
From ratchis maks reteir:
Quhylis rysing, quhylis vysing,
Quhylis saying to my sell,
My stait now, and gait now,
apeirs to pas to hell.
For to persaue, thir pure beists pynd,
Quhilk micht make na debait,
Gret broucherie and bludshed maid,
About the pairt, quhair I abaid,
Sick wes thair wofull stait:
Astonisht I stud, trymbling thair,
Forfant, for verie feir,
And as the sillie huntit hair,
From ratchis maks reteir:
Quhylis rysing, quhylis vysing,
Quhylis saying to my sell,
My stait now, and gait now,
apeirs to pas to hell.
I thocht I ay descendit doun,
And so for feir, I fell a soun,
But mouing sens or sicht,
For feir, and quhat for laik of fude,
My body empty wes of blude:
In me thair wes na micht:
My spreit perturbit wes so sair,
With vysions and with dreims,
That I lay comfortles in cair,
In troubils and extreims:
Quhylis demyng, quylis dremyng,
I lay into ane trance,
Quhylis panyng, quhylis vanyng,
So sudden wes my chance.
And so for feir, I fell a soun,
But mouing sens or sicht,
For feir, and quhat for laik of fude,
My body empty wes of blude:
In me thair wes na micht:
My spreit perturbit wes so sair,
With vysions and with dreims,
That I lay comfortles in cair,
In troubils and extreims:
Quhylis demyng, quylis dremyng,
I lay into ane trance,
Quhylis panyng, quhylis vanyng,
So sudden wes my chance.
My febill corps, did faint richt soune,
For I saw neither sun nor moune,
No planets did apeir,
Quhat stakren stait, was this to me,
To be in sick obscuritie,
Gif this wes paine I speir:
Than softlie did I suoufe and sleipe,
Howbeid my bed wes hard,
Into ane den profound and deipe,
Quhair I with nane wes scard:
Radoting, starnoting,
As wearie men will do,
Supyring, quhiles wyring,
My tender bodie to.
For I saw neither sun nor moune,
No planets did apeir,
Quhat stakren stait, was this to me,
To be in sick obscuritie,
Gif this wes paine I speir:
Than softlie did I suoufe and sleipe,
Howbeid my bed wes hard,
Into ane den profound and deipe,
Quhair I with nane wes scard:
Radoting, starnoting,
As wearie men will do,
Supyring, quhiles wyring,
My tender bodie to.
FINIS. Heir endeth the first Passage of the Pilgrimer.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
THE SECOVND PASSAGE OF THE PILGRIMER.
First in my visioun I saw,
Montains and Muris, orecled with snaw,
And all the bewis maid bair,
And syne I thocht, I saw gret Seis,
Quhois michtie force, Neptvn dois meis,
As Dominator thair:
The Iland Egeos, I did se,
Neptvnvs hallowit hill,
Quhilk stands into the Grecian Se,
Quhair fluds dois flow and fill:
Besyde thair, maist wyde thair,
Mount Locas micht be seene,
With Scillia, and Dosina,
Quhair grows the marbell greene.
Montains and Muris, orecled with snaw,
And all the bewis maid bair,
And syne I thocht, I saw gret Seis,
Quhois michtie force, Neptvn dois meis,
As Dominator thair:
The Iland Egeos, I did se,
Neptvnvs hallowit hill,
Quhilk stands into the Grecian Se,
Quhair fluds dois flow and fill:
Besyde thair, maist wyde thair,
Mount Locas micht be seene,
With Scillia, and Dosina,
Quhair grows the marbell greene.
Erix that monstrus mountaine hie,
Quhois hauture hes na quantitie,
As Poets dois report,
This michtie mountaine, micht be seene,
Quhairon thair stands, ane Temple scheene,
Weill buildit thair athort:
This Tempill did the Troians found,
To Venvs, as we read,
The stains thairof war marbell sound,
Lyke to the Lamer bead:
This muldrie, and buldrie,
Was maist magnificall,
Maist royall, and ioyall,
Trim and pontificall.
Quhois hauture hes na quantitie,
As Poets dois report,
This michtie mountaine, micht be seene,
Quhairon thair stands, ane Temple scheene,
Weill buildit thair athort:
This Tempill did the Troians found,
To Venvs, as we read,
The stains thairof war marbell sound,
Lyke to the Lamer bead:
Was maist magnificall,
Maist royall, and ioyall,
Trim and pontificall.
Quhair I sat musing mine alone,
OLympus mont of Macedone,
I thocht stud me before,
Mont Emus, thair apeird to me,
Quhair Orphevs leird his harmonie,
And melodiuell lore:
I saw the riuer Tagus to,
Quhair goldin sands did schyne,
Quhair that the Nymphs hes ay ado,
With all the Musis nyne:
As Nerides, and Driades,
Twa Nymphs, of gret renoun,
With Cleo, and Crato,
Till Helicone wer boun.
OLympus mont of Macedone,
I thocht stud me before,
Mont Emus, thair apeird to me,
Quhair Orphevs leird his harmonie,
And melodiuell lore:
I saw the riuer Tagus to,
Quhair goldin sands did schyne,
Quhair that the Nymphs hes ay ado,
With all the Musis nyne:
As Nerides, and Driades,
Twa Nymphs, of gret renoun,
With Cleo, and Crato,
Till Helicone wer boun.
The Rochis repercust and rang,
Quhair that the Tritons plaid and sang,
On trumpis tresexcellent,
Thair Pan plaid on his pleasant pype,
And Orphevs on his Harpe sicklike,
Ane pretty instrument:
That sound wes so celestiall,
And so melodius,
Aboue all things terrestriall,
The maist iucundius:
Maist sweitest, and meitest,
For wearie men like me,
Quhois noying to ioying,
Wes changit suddenlie.
Quhair that the Tritons plaid and sang,
On trumpis tresexcellent,
Thair Pan plaid on his pleasant pype,
And Orphevs on his Harpe sicklike,
Ane pretty instrument:
That sound wes so celestiall,
And so melodius,
Aboue all things terrestriall,
The maist iucundius:
Maist sweitest, and meitest,
For wearie men like me,
Quhois noying to ioying,
Wes changit suddenlie.
Sick mirthfull menstrellie wes thair,
I wait that neuer man saw mair,
Into so schort a space,
I musit, and I merueld syne,
To se that hie triumphant tryne,
Of peopill in that place:
Than curiously I did inquire,
At ane quho stud me by,
Quho Prences was, or had impire,
Of that maist fralik fry:
A maid than, me said than,
I sall you tell bedeene,
Our maistres, and goddes,
Venvs that lustie Queene.
I wait that neuer man saw mair,
I musit, and I merueld syne,
To se that hie triumphant tryne,
Of peopill in that place:
Than curiously I did inquire,
At ane quho stud me by,
Quho Prences was, or had impire,
Of that maist fralik fry:
A maid than, me said than,
I sall you tell bedeene,
Our maistres, and goddes,
Venvs that lustie Queene.
Quhair boun ye to my frend, sche sais,
Astonishtly me thinke ye gais,
Tell me quhat mouis your mynd,
Gif ze gang wrang, I sall you gyde,
Apearandly thou wanderst wyde,
I se weill be your synd:
For this place is maist perrillus,
And dangerous indeid,
And thir mountains are maruellus,
Quhair all Wyldbeists dois breid:
Maist terribill, and horribill,
Is this wanhappy gait,
Sick dangers, puts strangers,
Into ane stakren stait.
Astonishtly me thinke ye gais,
Tell me quhat mouis your mynd,
Gif ze gang wrang, I sall you gyde,
Apearandly thou wanderst wyde,
I se weill be your synd:
For this place is maist perrillus,
And dangerous indeid,
And thir mountains are maruellus,
Quhair all Wyldbeists dois breid:
Maist terribill, and horribill,
Is this wanhappy gait,
Sick dangers, puts strangers,
Into ane stakren stait.
Gif thou go fordward, thou sall se,
Neritos with his rochis hie,
Quhair Gyants hes thair hyuis
Thair rochis thou sall se anew,
Quhair Hercvles the lyon slew,
As Virgil weill descryuis:
Into thir pairts, thair nane repairs,
Except it be our sels,
For heir belangs, our haill affairs,
As I haue tauld the els:
Bot we than, ye se than,
Nane may mak hanting heir,
Vnles now, expres now,
To daith thay wald apeir.
Neritos with his rochis hie,
Quhair Gyants hes thair hyuis
Thair rochis thou sall se anew,
Quhair Hercvles the lyon slew,
As Virgil weill descryuis:
Into thir pairts, thair nane repairs,
Except it be our sels,
For heir belangs, our haill affairs,
Bot we than, ye se than,
Nane may mak hanting heir,
Vnles now, expres now,
To daith thay wald apeir.
Heir is the pairt thou may espy,
Quhair Cacvs, in his caue dois ly,
That monster maist seueir,
Vpoun his zet deid heidis ar hung,
Of agit folke, and children young,
Quho had bene walken heir:
This Cacvs, lyis not heir alon,
Bot mony Gyants mea,
The ofspring zit of Gerion
Quhome Hercvles did flea,
Pocessis, and dressis,
Thir placis as thay pleis,
Tormenting, and shenting,
Mens blud of all degreis,
Quhair Cacvs, in his caue dois ly,
That monster maist seueir,
Vpoun his zet deid heidis ar hung,
Of agit folke, and children young,
Quho had bene walken heir:
This Cacvs, lyis not heir alon,
Bot mony Gyants mea,
The ofspring zit of Gerion
Quhome Hercvles did flea,
Pocessis, and dressis,
Thir placis as thay pleis,
Tormenting, and shenting,
Mens blud of all degreis,
I can not tell quhat thou sall do,
Bot take gud tent, quhair thou gangs to,
The danger dois draw neir,
The Gyants heir are conuocat,
Agains pure pepill to combat,
Quho hapins to cum heir:
Euin as the blyndman gangs beges,
In houering far behynd,
So dois thou dandill in distres,
Quhilk I feir thou sall fynd:
Bewar now, ore far now,
To pas into this place,
Consydring, quhat fydring,
Lyis in your gait alace.
Bot take gud tent, quhair thou gangs to,
The danger dois draw neir,
The Gyants heir are conuocat,
Agains pure pepill to combat,
Quho hapins to cum heir:
Euin as the blyndman gangs beges,
In houering far behynd,
So dois thou dandill in distres,
Quhilk I feir thou sall fynd:
Bewar now, ore far now,
To pas into this place,
Consydring, quhat fydring,
Lyis in your gait alace.
As hils humectat are with dew,
Avroras teirs for to renew,
Quhilk Tytan dois distell,
With sackles blud, quhilk heir is shed,
So are thir placis haill orespred,
Lamentabill to tell:
Ane pepill maist hyronius,
Rustik, ignare, and rud,
And na ways Elimosnius,
Bot buriours in blud:
All hours ay, in bours ay,
Exspecting for thair pray,
With gredur, but dredur,
Awaiting in the way.
Quhilk Tytan dois distell,
With sackles blud, quhilk heir is shed,
So are thir placis haill orespred,
Lamentabill to tell:
Ane pepill maist hyronius,
Rustik, ignare, and rud,
And na ways Elimosnius,
Bot buriours in blud:
All hours ay, in bours ay,
Exspecting for thair pray,
With gredur, but dredur,
Awaiting in the way.
I wish to God, gif thou wer than,
Transformd in portrait of a Swan,
As Iove did quhen he dred,
With fedret wings to fle on hie,
So that thou micht in safetie be,
And from all dangers fred:
Gif that thou culd discryue the cairt,
The way thou wald go richt,
Or siluer Dian, do depairt,
The regent of the nicht,
To fle syne, on he syne,
Out throw the cluddie air,
As bounting, vp mounting,
Aboue the feilds so fair.
Transformd in portrait of a Swan,
As Iove did quhen he dred,
With fedret wings to fle on hie,
So that thou micht in safetie be,
And from all dangers fred:
Gif that thou culd discryue the cairt,
The way thou wald go richt,
Or siluer Dian, do depairt,
The regent of the nicht,
To fle syne, on he syne,
Out throw the cluddie air,
As bounting, vp mounting,
Aboue the feilds so fair.
Thir catif miscreants, I mene,
As buriours hes euer bene,
Wordie to vilipend,
The practise of thair pariceid,
And barbrus cruell homiceid,
Is not till vs vnkend:
Quhairfore my frend, it is my will,
Sum vtherway ye wynd,
For execrabill curst and ill,
Thir catifs are of kynd:
Surprysing, and vysing,
Pure Pilgrims how to trap,
Still lurking, in wurking,
Sum mater of mishap.
As buriours hes euer bene,
Wordie to vilipend,
The practise of thair pariceid,
And barbrus cruell homiceid,
Is not till vs vnkend:
Quhairfore my frend, it is my will,
Sum vtherway ye wynd,
Thir catifs are of kynd:
Surprysing, and vysing,
Pure Pilgrims how to trap,
Still lurking, in wurking,
Sum mater of mishap.
At lenth, this Pilgrim spake againe,
Except with me, that ye remaine,
For feir my corps will cule,
Swa feiring, thair for to be left,
He of his senses was bereft,
Besottit like ane fule:
Macrobivs Qyntvs of Corinth,
Quho did descend to hell,
In ane mair troublus Laborinth,
Not intricat him sell:
Nor I now, quhairby now,
Experience teichis plaine,
Intrusit, and vsit,
With pepill maist prophane.
Except with me, that ye remaine,
For feir my corps will cule,
Swa feiring, thair for to be left,
He of his senses was bereft,
Besottit like ane fule:
Macrobivs Qyntvs of Corinth,
Quho did descend to hell,
In ane mair troublus Laborinth,
Not intricat him sell:
Nor I now, quhairby now,
Experience teichis plaine,
Intrusit, and vsit,
With pepill maist prophane.
Before I come into this cair,
Perplexitie and gret dispair,
With troubill, stryfe and tene,
Wald I had bene deuord with daith,
Els in the entrels of the earth,
Intombit till haue bene:
Och Atrapvs, quhair is thy knyfe,
Quhy hes thou me misusd,
Into relenting of my life,
Quhilk hes bene so abusd:
Wald God now, the rod now,
Of daith, wald me deuore,
That deing, my being,
Micht heir remaine no more.
Perplexitie and gret dispair,
With troubill, stryfe and tene,
Wald I had bene deuord with daith,
Els in the entrels of the earth,
Intombit till haue bene:
Och Atrapvs, quhair is thy knyfe,
Quhy hes thou me misusd,
Into relenting of my life,
Quhilk hes bene so abusd:
Wald God now, the rod now,
Of daith, wald me deuore,
That deing, my being,
Micht heir remaine no more.
Better I neuer had bene borne,
Nor liue in sic a life forlorne,
Byrning in flams of fier,
My dolor daylie aggrauats.
And cairs so me inuironats,
That deith I do desire:
Quhen I relat my lyfe alace,
My watrie eies distels,
Considdring my maist cairfull cace,
All plesours that expels:
O deid now, with speid now,
Cum peirs me with thy dairt,
I griue heir, to liue heir,
Sen ans I must depairt.
Nor liue in sic a life forlorne,
Byrning in flams of fier,
My dolor daylie aggrauats.
And cairs so me inuironats,
That deith I do desire:
Quhen I relat my lyfe alace,
My watrie eies distels,
Considdring my maist cairfull cace,
All plesours that expels:
O deid now, with speid now,
Cum peirs me with thy dairt,
I griue heir, to liue heir,
Sen ans I must depairt.
Seing na ischew till eschew,
My dolour daylie did renew,
Sic madnes did me moue,
Euin as ane persoun in dispair,
My greif aggregis mair and mair,
Without remorse or roue.
Then I begoud to exclamat,
The Gods into my greif,
And quhyls Apollo imprecat,
To send me sum releif:
Howbeid than, in neid than,
I at thir Gods socht grace,
In vaine zit, my paine zit,
Gat na relief alace.
My dolour daylie did renew,
Sic madnes did me moue,
Euin as ane persoun in dispair,
My greif aggregis mair and mair,
Without remorse or roue.
Then I begoud to exclamat,
The Gods into my greif,
And quhyls Apollo imprecat,
To send me sum releif:
Howbeid than, in neid than,
I at thir Gods socht grace,
In vaine zit, my paine zit,
Gat na relief alace.
Apollo had compleit his cure,
And so the clouds wer all obscure,
For Phæbvs cast no licht,
Avrora raise with sanguine hew,
And so Diana bad adew,
The Regent of the nicht:
With this begoud to cleir the skyse,
Amangs the mountains, gret and grim,
I socht this Goddes gay:
Quhair I mont Caucasis did clym,
Quhair snaw remains for ay:
Dispairdly, vncairdly,
I hasert ouer the hill,
Allowing, and trowing,
To haue obteind my will.
And so the clouds wer all obscure,
For Phæbvs cast no licht,
Avrora raise with sanguine hew,
And so Diana bad adew,
The Regent of the nicht:
With this begoud to cleir the skyse,
I socht this Goddes gay:
Quhair I mont Caucasis did clym,
Quhair snaw remains for ay:
Dispairdly, vncairdly,
I hasert ouer the hill,
Allowing, and trowing,
To haue obteind my will.
Gret wes the hasert, quhilk I tuke,
Gif to the voyage, ye wald luke,
And all the perils pen,
Amang sick monstrous animals,
I mene the cruell canibals,
Quha feids on flesch of men:
Thir barbrus pepill, war nor Moirs,
Thair Iove, dois not extoll,
Bot sum the Dælphin torche adoirs,
And sum the artik poll:
Securely, vnsurely,
Still sleping into syn,
Offending, but mending,
Sick is the race thay ryn.
Gif to the voyage, ye wald luke,
And all the perils pen,
Amang sick monstrous animals,
I mene the cruell canibals,
Quha feids on flesch of men:
Thir barbrus pepill, war nor Moirs,
Thair Iove, dois not extoll,
Bot sum the Dælphin torche adoirs,
And sum the artik poll:
Securely, vnsurely,
Still sleping into syn,
Offending, but mending,
Sick is the race thay ryn.
Than did I dascan with my sell,
Quhidder to heuin or vnto hell,
Thir persouns suld pertene,
Quho na wais hes regard of God,
Bot as wyldbeists, dois ryn abrod,
Delyting into tene:
I in my mynd againe did pance,
How all wes done in sleuth,
In blindnes and in ignorance,
But knawledge of the truth:
Deploring, and soring,
Thair ignorant estaits,
Quhilk marknes, and darknes,
Pairtlie thair deids debaits.
Quhidder to heuin or vnto hell,
Thir persouns suld pertene,
Quho na wais hes regard of God,
Bot as wyldbeists, dois ryn abrod,
Delyting into tene:
I in my mynd againe did pance,
How all wes done in sleuth,
In blindnes and in ignorance,
But knawledge of the truth:
Deploring, and soring,
Thair ignorant estaits,
Quhilk marknes, and darknes,
Than iudge, quhat dois to sick belang,
As knawis the richt way be the wrang,
And zit the same forbeirs,
Or can we call thame christians richt,
That seis the glorious glancing licht,
Syne to the mirke reteirs:
Sum are like lyons in effect,
Baith barbarus and rud,
And sum like woluis, without respect,
Seking thair nichbours blud:
Sick men than, ye ken than,
Amangs our selfs we se,
As bregers, and tygers,
Delyts in blud to be.
As knawis the richt way be the wrang,
And zit the same forbeirs,
Or can we call thame christians richt,
That seis the glorious glancing licht,
Syne to the mirke reteirs:
Sum are like lyons in effect,
Baith barbarus and rud,
And sum like woluis, without respect,
Seking thair nichbours blud:
Sick men than, ye ken than,
Amangs our selfs we se,
As bregers, and tygers,
Delyts in blud to be.
Ze that your lands delapidats,
And all your actions agitats,
In sick prophane affairs,
Ze Bludsheders and buriours all,
Iust Canibals, men may you call,
As weill your deids declairs:
Thou bluddy man that dois abuse,
Thy glore bot, and thy grace,
Quhat can thou find for thy excuse,
At the tribunall place:
Thy scusis, and rusis,
Sall serue for na effect,
Bot rather, sall further,
Thy knaifre to detect.
And all your actions agitats,
In sick prophane affairs,
Ze Bludsheders and buriours all,
Iust Canibals, men may you call,
As weill your deids declairs:
Thou bluddy man that dois abuse,
Thy glore bot, and thy grace,
Quhat can thou find for thy excuse,
At the tribunall place:
Thy scusis, and rusis,
Sall serue for na effect,
Bot rather, sall further,
Thy knaifre to detect.
Into that terribill conflict,
Sick feirfull pains my hart did prick,
As na man micht abyde,
Thair wandring in the corners cauld,
My Nymph, I na wais culd behauld,
Amangs the mountains wyd:
Feir pat my hart in sick a flocht,
It did me mutch mischeif,
And ay the mair of hir I thocht,
The greter grew my greif:
Quhyls wissing, hir missing,
Out of my mynd to go,
Yit sadnes, and madnes,
Did agrauat my wo.
Sick feirfull pains my hart did prick,
As na man micht abyde,
Thair wandring in the corners cauld,
My Nymph, I na wais culd behauld,
Feir pat my hart in sick a flocht,
It did me mutch mischeif,
And ay the mair of hir I thocht,
The greter grew my greif:
Quhyls wissing, hir missing,
Out of my mynd to go,
Yit sadnes, and madnes,
Did agrauat my wo.
The mair ye stop the streame within,
With gretter force the flud will ryn,
As I may weill compair,
Sick fantasie on hir I set,
The fainer I wald hir forzet,
Remembrie grew the mair:
O Nymph, quod I, now to me tell,
Quhy hes thou done this deid,
Into absenting of thy sell,
Fra me in gretest neid:
Draw neir me, and heir me,
Pure catife quhair I cry,
Beseiking, with speiking,
Sum answer to reply.
With gretter force the flud will ryn,
As I may weill compair,
Sick fantasie on hir I set,
The fainer I wald hir forzet,
Remembrie grew the mair:
O Nymph, quod I, now to me tell,
Quhy hes thou done this deid,
Into absenting of thy sell,
Fra me in gretest neid:
Draw neir me, and heir me,
Pure catife quhair I cry,
Beseiking, with speiking,
Sum answer to reply.
Euin as the fish dois take delyte,
Vpon the fishers bait to byte,
Put thairupon expres,
Euin so perchance, I seik the thing,
Quhilk may redound to my maling,
Distruction and distres:
Quhyls luking comfort to resaue,
Quhyls luking for a skelp,
Quhyls dreiding sche suld me disaue,
Quhyls houping for hir help:
Perplexit, and vexit,
Betwixt hope and dispair,
Quhyls transing, quhyls pansing,
How till eschew the snair.
Vpon the fishers bait to byte,
Put thairupon expres,
Euin so perchance, I seik the thing,
Quhilk may redound to my maling,
Distruction and distres:
Quhyls luking comfort to resaue,
Quhyls luking for a skelp,
Quhyls dreiding sche suld me disaue,
Quhyls houping for hir help:
Perplexit, and vexit,
Betwixt hope and dispair,
Quhyls transing, quhyls pansing,
My spreit supirs and sichs maist sair,
Quhen I rement me euer mair,
How godles men begins,
For till associat thame sels,
With sick as pietie repels,
And dois delyte in sins:
Gif in your counsals, ye conclud,
Far placis for to se,
Ken weill, your company be gud,
So sall ye happy be:
Gret sorrows, and thorrows,
Ill company procuris,
Forese than, with me than,
This troubill that induris.
Quhen I rement me euer mair,
How godles men begins,
For till associat thame sels,
With sick as pietie repels,
And dois delyte in sins:
Gif in your counsals, ye conclud,
Far placis for to se,
Ken weill, your company be gud,
So sall ye happy be:
Gret sorrows, and thorrows,
Ill company procuris,
Forese than, with me than,
This troubill that induris.
Incace men wald record in mynd,
Quhat hes bene wrackit and reuynd,
By siclike menis alace,
Or gif thay wald in mynd incall,
The saying Salamonicall,
Concerning sick a cace:
Or zit the danger vnderstud,
Or culd the perrils ken,
Ill company thay wald seclud,
And hant with honest men:
Atend ye, and mend ye,
That loups before ye luke,
In venter, ye enter,
Quhair ye resaue rebuke.
Quhat hes bene wrackit and reuynd,
By siclike menis alace,
Or gif thay wald in mynd incall,
The saying Salamonicall,
Concerning sick a cace:
Or zit the danger vnderstud,
Or culd the perrils ken,
Ill company thay wald seclud,
And hant with honest men:
Atend ye, and mend ye,
That loups before ye luke,
In venter, ye enter,
Quhair ye resaue rebuke.
Intill astonishment I stud,
For I na outgait vnderstud,
My mynd wes so resolued,
And in my mynd oftimes did think,
How till elaps, from this precink,
Quhairin I wes inuolued:
Quhyls lipning comfort to consaue,
Quhyls lipning ill alace,
In hart and mynd, ye may persaue,
No sympathy hes place:
Quhylis dowting, quhylis showting,
That sche my voce micht heir,
In haist now, this gaist now,
Before me did apeir.
For I na outgait vnderstud,
My mynd wes so resolued,
And in my mynd oftimes did think,
How till elaps, from this precink,
Quhyls lipning comfort to consaue,
Quhyls lipning ill alace,
In hart and mynd, ye may persaue,
No sympathy hes place:
Quhylis dowting, quhylis showting,
That sche my voce micht heir,
In haist now, this gaist now,
Before me did apeir.
In monstrus maner, sche come thair,
As Crvsa did, that dame so fair,
Efter sche wes deceist,
The gifts quhilk did hir corps decore,
And forme, quhairin sche wes before,
Is alterd in a beist:
Can this be thou, that stands me by,
Into ane beists estait,
Sche answers me, this same is I,
That gydit thee the gait:
Perhap now, my chap now,
Will make the for to feir,
Bot dreid not, thou neid not,
Na danger sall the deir.
As Crvsa did, that dame so fair,
Efter sche wes deceist,
The gifts quhilk did hir corps decore,
And forme, quhairin sche wes before,
Is alterd in a beist:
Can this be thou, that stands me by,
Into ane beists estait,
Sche answers me, this same is I,
That gydit thee the gait:
Perhap now, my chap now,
Will make the for to feir,
Bot dreid not, thou neid not,
Na danger sall the deir.
Than did I cry with loud alace,
Quhair is thy fair and fragrant face,
With thy gold glitring hair,
Quhair are thy cumly christall eis,
And corall lips, beneth thy breis,
With bodie debonair:
Thy cumly corps, from end to end,
So clenly wes inclosd,
That Momvs nocht culd discommend,
So weill thou wes composd:
Thy trymnes, and nymnes,
Is turnd to vyld estait,
Thy grace to, and face to,
Is alterd of the lait.
Quhair is thy fair and fragrant face,
With thy gold glitring hair,
Quhair are thy cumly christall eis,
And corall lips, beneth thy breis,
With bodie debonair:
Thy cumly corps, from end to end,
So clenly wes inclosd,
That Momvs nocht culd discommend,
So weill thou wes composd:
Thy trymnes, and nymnes,
Is turnd to vyld estait,
Is alterd of the lait.
I at this spreit, begoud to speir,
Quhilk in my presence did apeir,
Desiring it to tell,
Gif it that power, had of God,
Quho in his richt hand halds the rod,
Or of the deuill in hell:
The pairt of Prothevs, thou dois play,
Quho quhyli wes changst in myst,
And culd transforme him selfe I say,
In ony schape he list:
Are ye than, as he than,
Declair the truth to me,
Or Tysephon, or Mageron,
Ane of the furies thre.
Quhilk in my presence did apeir,
Desiring it to tell,
Gif it that power, had of God,
Quho in his richt hand halds the rod,
Or of the deuill in hell:
The pairt of Prothevs, thou dois play,
Quho quhyli wes changst in myst,
And culd transforme him selfe I say,
In ony schape he list:
Are ye than, as he than,
Declair the truth to me,
Or Tysephon, or Mageron,
Ane of the furies thre.
Or art thou cumd of Phocames,
Or of the monster Odites,
By Mopsis, schot to deid,
Or art thou of Euriplis toun,
Quhair wyfis wairs horns vpon thair croun,
As Oxin on thair heid:
Or dwels thou in the Horison,
Aboue all earthly bounds,
Or in the mount of Cocheron,
Quhair echo ay resounds:
In Achyron, or Flagiton,
Thois twa infernall fluds,
Repairs thou, or fairs thou,
With Diabolyk bruds.
Or of the monster Odites,
By Mopsis, schot to deid,
Or art thou of Euriplis toun,
Quhair wyfis wairs horns vpon thair croun,
As Oxin on thair heid:
Or dwels thou in the Horison,
Aboue all earthly bounds,
Or in the mount of Cocheron,
Quhair echo ay resounds:
In Achyron, or Flagiton,
Thois twa infernall fluds,
Repairs thou, or fairs thou,
With Diabolyk bruds.
Or come thou from dame Thetis lap,
Quhair stout Achil resau'd his schap,
As ancient Poets pens,
Or com thou from Neptvns feild,
Quhair Titan nichtlie hes his beild,
As common pepill kens:
Quhair Phalemon repairs expres,
The sonne of Ivno Queene,
With auld Colantvs hes exces,
Neptvnvs courtiours kene:
Remane ye, or trane ye,
On see so far of schore,
Or vse ye, or muse ye,
With them reherst before.
Quhair stout Achil resau'd his schap,
As ancient Poets pens,
Or com thou from Neptvns feild,
As common pepill kens:
Quhair Phalemon repairs expres,
The sonne of Ivno Queene,
With auld Colantvs hes exces,
Neptvnvs courtiours kene:
Remane ye, or trane ye,
On see so far of schore,
Or vse ye, or muse ye,
With them reherst before.
Thocht strange this purpos will apeir,
That mortal men demand or speir,
At spreits that be vnclene,
Lat na man maruell in his mynd,
For God that al things hes inclynd,
Permits thir things I mene:
He is the Lord of Sea, and land,
Quha dantons all indeid,
And hes the bridle in his hand,
Quhilk halds them by the heid:
Comanding, thair standing,
Thair actions, and exces,
His richt now, and micht now,
Comands thame more and les.
That mortal men demand or speir,
At spreits that be vnclene,
Lat na man maruell in his mynd,
For God that al things hes inclynd,
Permits thir things I mene:
He is the Lord of Sea, and land,
Quha dantons all indeid,
And hes the bridle in his hand,
Quhilk halds them by the heid:
Comanding, thair standing,
Thair actions, and exces,
His richt now, and micht now,
Comands thame more and les.
Nor maruel not, thocht I demand,
The veritie til vnderstand,
Concerning spreits that be,
How sum are hingand in the air,
Sum in the earth and fields so fair,
And sum into the See:
This Royall King of all renoun,
Knawis quhat he hes ado,
For quhen that Lvcifer fell doun,
Thir spreits descendit to:
Thy glore now, the more now,
Is kend ô potent God,
In schawing, and blawing,
Thy potent power abrod.
The veritie til vnderstand,
Concerning spreits that be,
How sum are hingand in the air,
Sum in the earth and fields so fair,
And sum into the See:
This Royall King of all renoun,
Knawis quhat he hes ado,
For quhen that Lvcifer fell doun,
Thir spreits descendit to:
Thy glore now, the more now,
In schawing, and blawing,
Thy potent power abrod.
Concerning spreits, quhairof I spake,
Sum lyis into the Limbo lake,
Perplexit with wo and pane,
Sum lyis belaw, and sum aboue,
This is na paradox I proue,
The mater is maist plane:
O thou gret God, our onlie scheild,
In quhome we do rejose,
Conduct vs to Elisian feild,
Quhair gud spreits dois repose:
That we ay, may be ay,
Conductit be thy grace,
In purenes, and surenes,
In Heuin to haue our place.
Sum lyis into the Limbo lake,
Perplexit with wo and pane,
Sum lyis belaw, and sum aboue,
This is na paradox I proue,
The mater is maist plane:
O thou gret God, our onlie scheild,
In quhome we do rejose,
Conduct vs to Elisian feild,
Quhair gud spreits dois repose:
That we ay, may be ay,
Conductit be thy grace,
In purenes, and surenes,
In Heuin to haue our place.
FINIS.
BE HONOR I LEVE.
| To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox | |