 | The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount |  |
387
DOUBTFUL POEM AND LINES
390
ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF PEDER COFFEIS HAVING NA REGAIRD TILL HONESTIE IN THAIR VOCATIOUN.
It is my purpoiss to discryve
This hole perfyte genolagie
Of pedder knavis superlatyve
Pretendand to awtoretie,
That wait of nocht bot beggartie.
Ȝe burges sonis prevene thir lownis,
That wald distroy nobilitie,
And baneiss it all borrow[s] townis.
This hole perfyte genolagie
Of pedder knavis superlatyve
Pretendand to awtoretie,
That wait of nocht bot beggartie.
Ȝe burges sonis prevene thir lownis,
That wald distroy nobilitie,
And baneiss it all borrow[s] townis.
I
Thay ar declarit in sevin pairtis.Ane (scroppit cofe) quhen he begynnis,
Sornand all and sindry airtis,
For to by hennis reid-wod he rynnis.
He lokis thame vp in to his inniss
Vnto ane derth, and sellis thair eggis,
Regraitandly on thame he wynnis,
And secondly his meit he beggis.
II
Ane swyngeor coife, amangis the wyviss,In land-wart dwellis with subteill menis,
Exponand thame auld sanctis lyvis,
And sanis thame with deid menis banis,
Lyk Rome-rakaris, with awsterne graniss,
391
Peipand peurly with peteouss graniss,
Lyk fenȝeit Symmye and his bruder.
III
Thir (cur coffeis) that sailis oure sone,And thretty sum abowt ane pak,
With bair blew bonattis and hobbold schone,
And beir bonnokkis with thame thay tak:
Thay schamed schrewis, God gif thame lak,
At none quhen merchantis makis gud cheir,
Steilis doun, and lyis behind ane pak,
Drinkand bot dreggis and barmy beir.
IV
Knaifatic coff misknawis him sell,Quhen he gettis in a furrit goun.
Grit Lucifer, maister of hell,
Is nocht sa helie as that loun,
As he cumis brankand throw the toun,
With his keis clynkand on his arme.
That calf clovin-futtit fleid custroun
Will mary nane bot a burgess bairne.
V
Ane dyvour coffe, that wirry hen,Distroyis the honor of our natioun,
Takis gudis to frist fra fremmit men,
And brekis his obligatioun,
Quhilk dois the marchandis defamatioun.
Thay ar reprevit for that regratour:
Thairfoir we gif our declaratioun,
To hang and draw that commoun tratour.
392
VI
Ane curloreouss coffe, that hege skraper,He sittis at hame quhen that thay baik,
That pedder brybour, that scheip-keipar,
He tellis thame ilk ane caik by caik,
Syne lokkis thame vp, and takis a faik,
Betwix his dowb[l]ett and his Iackett,
And eitis thame in the buith, that smaik;
God that he mort in to ane rakkett.
VII
Ane gader-all coffe, he is ovir reche,And hes na hap his gude to spend,
Bot levis lyk ane wareit wreche,
And trestis nevir till tak ane end;
With falsheid evir dois him defend,
Proceding still in averice,
And leivis his sawle na gude commend,
Bot walkis ane wilsome wey, I wiss.
VIII
I ȝow exhort all that is heir,That reidis this bill, ȝe wald it schaw
Vnto the provest, and him requeir,
That he will geif thir coffis the law,
And baneis thame the burgess raw,
And to the scho streit ȝe thame ken,
Syne cutt thair luggis, that ȝe may knaw,
Thir peddir knavis be burges men.
Finis quod Linsdsay.
394
[Habitare fratres in unum]
Habitare fratres in unumIs a blesfull thyng,
One God, one faith, one baptisme pure,
One lawe, one lande, and one kyng.
Clappe handes together, brethren dere,
Unfained truce together make,
And like freendes dooe ever accorde,
But French and Romaine doe first forsake.
You are without the continent,
A sole lande of auncient fame,
Ab origine a people olde,
Bold Britaines ecleped by name.
Sicut erat in principio.
Graunt, oh God, it maie bee
In saecula saeculorum,
That we maie haue peace in thee.
Then we shall feare no forein power
That againste vs shall advaunce,
The Tartre cruell, the curse of Rome,
Ne yet the power of Fraunce, &c.
| The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount | |