The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount ... Edited by Douglas Hamer |
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| THE ANSWER QUHILK SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY MAID TO THE KINGIS FLYTING. |
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 | The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount |  |
102
THE ANSWER QUHILK SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY MAID TO THE KINGIS FLYTING.
Redoutit Roy, ȝour ragment I haue red,
Quhilk dois perturb my dull Intendement.
From ȝour flyting, wald God, that I wer fred,
Or ellis sum Tygerris toung wer to me lent.
Schir, pardone me, thocht I be Impacient,
Quhilk bene so with ȝour prunȝeand pen detractit,
And rude report frome Uenus Court deiectit.
Quhilk dois perturb my dull Intendement.
From ȝour flyting, wald God, that I wer fred,
Or ellis sum Tygerris toung wer to me lent.
Schir, pardone me, thocht I be Impacient,
Quhilk bene so with ȝour prunȝeand pen detractit,
And rude report frome Uenus Court deiectit.
Lustie Ladyis, that [on] ȝour Libellis lukis,
My cumpanie dois hald abhominable,
Commandand me beir cumpanie to the Cukis.
Moist lyke ane Deuill, thay hald me detestable:
Thay banis me, sayand I am nocht able
Thame to compleis, or preis to thare presence.
Apon ȝour pen I cry ane loud vengeance.
My cumpanie dois hald abhominable,
Commandand me beir cumpanie to the Cukis.
Moist lyke ane Deuill, thay hald me detestable:
Thay banis me, sayand I am nocht able
Thame to compleis, or preis to thare presence.
Apon ȝour pen I cry ane loud vengeance.
Wer I ane Poeit, I suld preis with my pen
To wreik me on ȝour wennemous wryting:
Bot I man do as dog dois in his den,
Fald baith my feit, or fle fast frome ȝour flyting.
The mekle Deuil may nocht indure ȝour dyting:
Quharefor, Cor mundum crea in me, I cry,
Proclamand ȝow the Prince of Poetry.
To wreik me on ȝour wennemous wryting:
Bot I man do as dog dois in his den,
Fald baith my feit, or fle fast frome ȝour flyting.
The mekle Deuil may nocht indure ȝour dyting:
Quharefor, Cor mundum crea in me, I cry,
Proclamand ȝow the Prince of Poetry.
Schir, with my Prince pertenit me nocht to pley:
Bot sen your grace hes geuin me sic command,
To mak answer, it must neidis me obey.
Thocht ȝe be now strang lyke ane Elephand,
And in till Uenus werkis maist vailȝeand,
The day wyll cum, and that within few ȝeiris,
That ȝe wyll draw at laiser with ȝour feiris.
Bot sen your grace hes geuin me sic command,
103
Thocht ȝe be now strang lyke ane Elephand,
And in till Uenus werkis maist vailȝeand,
The day wyll cum, and that within few ȝeiris,
That ȝe wyll draw at laiser with ȝour feiris.
Quhat can ȝe say forther, bot I am failȝeit
In Uenus werkis? I grant, schir, that is trew:
The tyme hes bene, I was better artailȝeit
Nor I am now: bot ȝit full sair I rew
That euer I did Mouth thankles so persew.
Quharefor tak tent, and ȝour fyne powder spair,
And waist it nocht, bot gyf ȝe wit weill quhair.
In Uenus werkis? I grant, schir, that is trew:
The tyme hes bene, I was better artailȝeit
Nor I am now: bot ȝit full sair I rew
That euer I did Mouth thankles so persew.
Quharefor tak tent, and ȝour fyne powder spair,
And waist it nocht, bot gyf ȝe wit weill quhair.
Thocht ȝe rin rudelie, lyke ane restles Ram,
Schutand ȝour bolt at mony sindrie schellis,
Beleif richt weill, it is ane bydand gam:
Quharefore be war with dowbling of the bellis,
For mony ane dois haist thair awin saule knellis,
And speciallie, quhen that the well gois dry,
Syne can nocht get agane sic stufe to by.
Schutand ȝour bolt at mony sindrie schellis,
Beleif richt weill, it is ane bydand gam:
Quharefore be war with dowbling of the bellis,
For mony ane dois haist thair awin saule knellis,
And speciallie, quhen that the well gois dry,
Syne can nocht get agane sic stufe to by.
I giue ȝour counsale to the feynd of hell,
That wald nocht of ane Princes ȝow prouide:
Tholand ȝow rin schutand frome schell to schell,
Waistand ȝour corps, lettand the tyme ouerslyde:
For, lyke ane boisteous Bull, ȝe rin and ryde
Royatouslie lyke ane rude Rubeatour,
Ay fukkand lyke ane furious Fornicatour.
That wald nocht of ane Princes ȝow prouide:
Tholand ȝow rin schutand frome schell to schell,
Waistand ȝour corps, lettand the tyme ouerslyde:
For, lyke ane boisteous Bull, ȝe rin and ryde
Royatouslie lyke ane rude Rubeatour,
Ay fukkand lyke ane furious Fornicatour.
On Ladronis for to loip, ȝe wyll nocht lat,
Howbeit the Caribaldis cry the corinoch.
Remember how besyde the masking fat
Ȝe caist ane quene ouerthort ane stinking troch:
That feind, with fuffilling of hir roistit hoch,
Cast doun the fat, quharthrow drink, draf, & iuggis
Come rudely rinnand doun about ȝour luggis.
Howbeit the Caribaldis cry the corinoch.
Remember how besyde the masking fat
Ȝe caist ane quene ouerthort ane stinking troch:
That feind, with fuffilling of hir roistit hoch,
Cast doun the fat, quharthrow drink, draf, & iuggis
Come rudely rinnand doun about ȝour luggis.
104
Wald God the Lady that luffit ȝow best,
Had sene ȝow thair ly swetterand lyke twa swyne.
Bot to indyte how that duddroun wes drest,
Drowkit with dreggis, quhimperand with mony quhryne,
That proces to report it wer ane pyne.
On ȝour behalf I thank God tymes ten score,
That ȝou preseruit from gut & frome grandgore.
Had sene ȝow thair ly swetterand lyke twa swyne.
Bot to indyte how that duddroun wes drest,
Drowkit with dreggis, quhimperand with mony quhryne,
That proces to report it wer ane pyne.
On ȝour behalf I thank God tymes ten score,
That ȝou preseruit from gut & frome grandgore.
Now schir, fairweill, because I can nocht flyte:
And thocht I could, I wer nocht tyll auance
Aganis your ornate Meter to indyte.
Bot ȝit be war with lawbouring of ȝour lance.
Sum sayis thare cummis ane bukler furth of France,
Quhilk wyll indure ȝour dintis, thocht thay be dour.
Fairweill, of flowand Rethorik the flour.
Quod Lindesay in his flyting
And thocht I could, I wer nocht tyll auance
Aganis your ornate Meter to indyte.
Bot ȝit be war with lawbouring of ȝour lance.
Sum sayis thare cummis ane bukler furth of France,
Quhilk wyll indure ȝour dintis, thocht thay be dour.
Fairweill, of flowand Rethorik the flour.
Aganis the Kingis dyting.
| The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount | |