To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox [by John Burel] |
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Pamphilus warsling with Galathea, Galathea spake thir wourdis.
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 | To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox |  |
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,
| To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox | |