The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount :: :: University of Virginia Library

Off Iasone, and Media, all at lenth,
Off Hercules the actis honorabyll,
And of Sampsone the supernaturall strenth,
And of leill Luffaris storeis amiabyll;
And oft tymes haue I feinȝeit mony fabyll,
Off Troylus the sorrow and the Ioye,
And Seigis all, of Tyir, Thebes, and Troye;

The Prophiseis of Rymour, Beid, & Marlyng,
And of mony vther pleasand storye,
Off the reid Etin, and the gyir carlyng. . . .

[_]

From The Dreme, ll. 33–45.

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE DREME, OF SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY, OF THE MONT, FAMILIAR SERUITOUR, TO OUR SOUERANE LORD KYNG IAMES THE FYFT. .&C.

THE EPISTIL.

Rycht Potent Prince, of hie Imperial blude,
Onto thy grace I traist it be weill knawin,
My seruyce done onto thy Celsitude,
Quhilk nedis nocht at lenth for to be schawin;
And, thocht my ȝouthed now be neir ouer blawin,
Excerst in seruyce of thyne Excellence,
Hope hes me hecht ane gudlie recompence.

Quhen thow wes ȝoung, I bure the in myne arme
Full tenderlie, tyll thow begouth to gang,
And in thy bed oft happit the full warme,
With lute in hand, syne, sweitlie to the sang:
Sumtyme, in dansing, feiralie I flang;
And, sumtyme, playand fairsis on the flure;
And, sumtyme, on myne office takkand cure;

And, sumtyme, lyke ane feind, transfegurate;
And, sumtyme, lyke the greislie gaist of gye;
In diuers formis, oft tymes, disfigurate;
And, sumtyme, dissagyist full plesandlye.
So, sen thy birth, I haue continewalye
Bene occupyit, and aye to thy plesoure;
And, sumtyme, seware, Coppare, and Caruoure,

Thy purs maister, and secreit Thesaurare,
Thy Yschare, aye sen thy Natyuitie,

And of thy chalmer cheiffe Cubiculare,
Quhilk, to this houre, hes keipit my lawtie.
Louyng be to the blyssit Trynitie,
That sic ane wracheit worme hes maid so habyll
Tyll sic ane Prince to be so [a]greabyll.

Bot, now, thov arte, be Influence naturall,
Hie of Ingyne, and rycht Inquisityue
Off antique storeis and dedis marciall.
More plesandlie the tyme for tyll ouerdryue,
I haue, at lenth, the storeis done discryue
Off Hectour, Arthour, and gentyll Iulyus,
Off Alexander, and worthy Pompeyus,

The Prophiseis of Rymour, Beid, & Marlyng,
And of mony vther plesand storye,
Off the reid Etin, and the gyir carlyng,
Confortand the, quhen that I sawe the sorye.
Now, with the supporte of the king of glorye,
I sall the schaw ane storye of the new,
The quhilk affore I neuer to the schew.

Bot humilie I beseik thyne Excellence,
With ornate termes thocht I can nocht expres
This sempyll mater, for laik of Eloquence,
Ȝit, nocht withstandyng all my besynes,
With hart and hand my mynd I sall adres,
As I best can, and moste compendious.
Now I begyn the mater hapnit thus.

THE PROLONG.

In to the Calendis of Ianuarie,
Quhen fresche Phebus, be mouyng circulair,
Frome Capricorne wes enterit in Aquarie,
With blastis that the branchis maid full bair,
The snaw and sleit perturbit all the air,
And flemit Flora frome euery bank and bus,
Throuch supporte of the austeir Eolus,

Efter that I the lang wynteris nycht
Hade lyne walking, in to my bed, allone,
Throuch heuy thocht, that no way sleip I mycht,
Rememb[e]ryng of diuers thyngis gone,
So, vp I rose, and clethit me anone.
Be this, fair Tytane, with his lemis lycht,
Ouer all the land had spred his baner brycht.

With cloke and hude I dressit me belyue,
With dowbyll schone, & myttanis on my handis.
Howbeit the air wes rycht penitratyue,
Ȝit fure I furth, lansing ouirthorte the landis,
Towarte the see, to schorte me on the sandis,
Because vnblomit was baith bank and braye.
And so, as I was passing by the waye,

I met dame Flora, in dule weid dissagysit,
Quhilk in to May wes dulce and delectabyll.
With stalwart stormes hir sweitnes wes suprisit;
Hir heuynlie hewis war turnit in to sabyll,
Quhilkis vmquhyle war to luffaris amiabyll.
Fled frome the froste the tender flouris I saw,
Under dame Naturis mantyll lurking law.

The small fowlis in flokkis saw I flee
To Nature makand gret lamentatioun:

Thay lychtit doun besyde me, on ane tree,
Off thare complaynt I hade compassioun,
And, with ane pieteous exclamatioun,
Thay said: blyssit be Somer, with his flouris;
And waryit be thow, wynter, with thy schouris.

Allace, Aurora, the syllie Larke can crye,
Quhare hes thow left thy balmy lyquour sweit
That vs reiosit, we mountyng in the skye?
Thy syluer droppis ar turnit in to sleit.
O fair Phebus, quhare is thy hoilsum heit?
Quhy tholis thov thy heuinlie plesand face
With mystie vapouris to be obscurit, allace?

Quhar art thov, May, with Iune, thy syster schene,
Weill bordourit with dasyis of delyte?
And gentyll Iulet, with thy mantyll grene,
Enamilit with rosis reid and quhyte?
Now, auld and cauld Ianeuar, in dispyte,
Reiffis frome vs all pastyme and plesoure.
Allace, quhat gentyll hart may this Indure?

Ouersylit ar with cloudis odious
The goldin skyis of the orient,
Cheangeyng in sorrow our sang melodious,
Quhilk we had wount to sing with gude intent,
Resoundand to the heuinnis firmament;
Bot now our daye is cheangit in to nycht:
With that thay rais, & flew furth out of my sycht.

Pensyue in hart, passing full soberlie,
Onto the see fordwart I fure anone.
The see was furth; the sand wes smoith & dryye.
Than vp and doun I musit myne alone,
Tyll that I spyit ane lytill Caue of stone,
Heych in ane craig: vpwart I did approche,
But tarying, and clam vp in the Roche,

And purposit, for passing of the tyme,
Me to defende frome Ociositie,
With pen and paper to Regester, in ryme,
Sum mery mater of Antiquitie.
Bot Idelnes, ground of iniquitie,
Scho maid so dull my spretis me within,
That I wyste nocht at quhat end to begin;

Bot satt styll, in that coue, quhare I mycht se
The woltryng of the wallis vp and doun;
And this fals wardlis Instabilytie
Unto that sey makkand comparisoun,
And of the wardlis wracheit variasoun,
To thame that fixis all thare hole intent,
Considdryng quho moste had suld moste repent,

So with my hude my hede I happit warme,
And in my cloke I fauldit boith my feit.
I thocht my corps with cauld suld tak no harme,
My mittanis held my handis weill in heit:
The skowland craig me couerit frome the sleit.
Thare styll I satt, my bonis for to rest,
Tyll Morpheus with sleip my spreit opprest.

So, throw the boustious blastis of Eolus,
And throw my walkyng on the nycht before,
And throuch the seis mouyng maruellous,
Be Neptunus, with mony route and rore,
Constranit I was to sleip, withouttin more;
And quhat I dremit, in conclusioun,
I sall ȝow tell, ane maruellous visioun.

FINIS.

HEIR ENDIS THE PROLONG. AND FOLLOWIS THE DREME.

Me thocht ane lady, of portratour perfyte,
Did salus me, with benyng contynance;
And I, quhilk of hir presens had delyte,
Tyl hir agane maid humyl reuerence,
And hir demandit, sauyng hir plesance,
Quhat wes hir name: scho answerit courtesly:
Dame Remembrance, scho said, callit am I;

Quhilk cummyng is for pastyme and plesoure
Off the, and for to beir the companye,
Because I se thy spreit withoute mesoure
So sore perturbit be malancolye,
Causyng thy corps to vaxin cauld and drye.
Tharefor, get vp, and gang, anone, with me.
So war we boith, in twynkling of ane Ee,

Doun throw the eird, in myddis of the centeir,
Or euer I wyste, in to the lawest hell.
In to that cairfull coue quhen we did enter,
Ȝowtyng and ȝowlyng we hard, with mony ȝell.
In flame of fyre, rycht furious and fell,
Was cryand mony cairfull creature,
Blasphemand God, and waryand nature.

Thare sawe we diuers Papis and Empriouris,
Withoute recouer, mony cairfull kyngis.
Thare sawe we mony wrangous Conquerouris,
Withouttin rycht reiffaris of vtheris ryngis:
The men of kirk lay boundin in to byngis.
Thare saw we mony cairfull Cardinall,
And Archebischopis in thare pontificall,

Proude and peruerst Prelattis, out of nummer;
Priouris, Abbottis, and fals flattrand freris,

To specifye thame all, it wer ane cummer;
Regulare channonis, churle monkis, & chartarer[i]s,
Curious clerkis, and preistis seculeris:
Thare was sum part of ilk Religioun,
In haly kirk quhilk did abusioun.

Than I demandit dame Rememb[e]rance
The cause of thir Prelattis punysioun.
Scho said, the cause of thare vnhappy chance
Was Couatyce, Luste, and ambysioun,
The quhilk now garris thame want fruitioun
Off God, and heir eternallie man dwell
In to this painefull poysonit pytt of hell.

Als, thay did nocht instruct the Ignorent,
Prouocand thame to pennence, be precheing,
Bot seruit wardlie Prencis insolent,
And war promouit be thare fenȝeit flecheing,
Nocht for thare science, wysedome, nor techeing.
Be Symonie was thare promotioun,
More for deneris nor for deuotioun.

Ane vther cause of the punysioun
Off thir vnhappy prelattis Imprudent;
Thay maid nocht equale distributioun
Off haly kirk the Patrimonie and rent,
Bot temporallie thay haue it all mispent,
Quhilkis suld haue bene trypartit in to thre:
First, to vphauld the kirk in honestie;

The secunde part, to sustene thare aistatis;
The third part, to be gewin to the puris.
Bot thay dispone that geir all vther gaittis,
On cartis, and dyce, on harllotrie, and huris.
Thir catyuis tuke no compt of thair awin curis,
Thare kirkis rewin, thare ladyis clenely cled,
And rychelye rewlit, boith at burde and bed.

Thare bastarde barnis proudely thay prouydit;
The kirk geir larglye thay did on thame spende.
In thare difaltis, thare subdetis wer misgydit,
And comptit nocht thare God for tyll offend,
Quhilk gart tham want grace at thair letter end.
Rewland that rowte I sawe, in Capis of Bras,
Symone Magus, and byschope Cayphas.

Byschope Annas, and the treatour Iudas,
Machomete, that Propheit poysonabyll,
Choro, Dathan, and Abirone thare was.
Heretykis we sawe vnnumerabyll.
It wes ane sycht rycht wounderous lamentabyl[e],
Quhow that thay lay, in to tha flammis fletyng,
With cairfull cryis, girnyng, and greityng.

Religious men wer punyste panefullie
For vaine glore, als, for Inobedience;
Brekand thare constitutionis wylfullie,
Nocht haiffand thare Ouermen in reuerence.
To knaw thare rewle thay maid no delygence:
Unleifsumlie thay vsit propertie,
Passing the boundis of wylfull pouertie.

Full sore wepyng, with vocis lamentabyll
Thay cryit lowde: O Empriour Constantyne,
We may wyit thy possessioun poysonabyll
Off all our gret punysioun and pyne.
Quhowbeit thy purpose was tyll ane gude fyne,
Thow baneist frome ws trew deuotioun,
Haiffand sic Ee tyll our promotioun.

Than we beheld ane den full dolorous,
Quhare that Prencis and lordis temporall
War Cruciate with panis regorous.
Bot, to expreme thare panis in speciall,
It dois exceid all my memoriall.
Importabyll paine thay had, but confortyng:
Thare blude royall maid thame no supportyng.

Sum catyue kyngis for creuell oppressioun,
And vther sum, for thare wrangus conquest,
War condampnit, thay and thare Successioun.
Sum, for publict adultrye and incest:
Sum leit thare peple neuer leif in rest,
Delyting so in plesour sensuall,
Quharefor thare paine was, thare, perpetuall.

Thare was the cursit Empriour Nero,
Off euerilk vice the horrabyll weschell;
Thare was Pharo, with diuers Prencis mo,
Oppressouris of the barnis of Israell;
Herode, and mony mo than I can tell:
Ponce Pylat was thare, hangit be the hals,
With vniuste Iugis, for thare sentence fals.

Dukis, Merquessis, Erlis, Barronis, Knychtis,
With thay Prencis, wer punyst panefullie;
Partycipant thay wer of thare vnrychtis.
Fordwarte we went, and leit thir Lordis lye,
And saw quhare ladyis, lamentabyllie,
Lyke wod Lyonis, cairfullie cryand,
In flam of fyre rycht furiouslie fryand:

Emprices, Quenis, and ladyis of honouris,
Mony Duches, and Comptas, full of cair.
Thay peirsit myne hart, thay tender creaturis,
So pynit, in that pytt, full of dispare,
Plungit in paine, with mony reuthfull rair:
Sum, for thare pryde; sum, for Adultrye;
Sum, for thare tyisting men to Lechorye;

Sum had bene creuell and malicius;
Sum, for making of wrangous heretouris.
For to rehers thare lyffis vitious,
It wer bot tarye to the auditouris:
Off Lychorye thay wer the verray luris;
With thare prouocatyue Impudicitie,
Brocht mony ane man to Infelicitie.

Sum wemen, for thare pussillamytie,
Ouerset with schame, thay did thame neuer schryue
Off secreit Synnis done in quietie,
And sum repentit neuer in thare lyue:
Quhairfor, but reuth tha ruffeis did thame ryue,
Regoruslie, withoute compassioun:
Gret was thare dule and lamentatioun.

That we wer maid, thay cryit oft, allace,
Thus Tormentit with panis Intollerabyll.
We mendit nocht, quhen we had tyme and space,
Bot tuke, in eird, our lustis delectabyll.
Quharfor, with feindis, vgly and horrabyll,
We ar condampnit for euer more, allace,
Eternalie, withouttin hope of grace.

Quhare is the meit and drynke delicious,
With quhilk we fed our cairfull cariounis,
Gold, syluer, sylk, with peirlis precious,
Our ryches, rentis, and our possessionis?
Withouttin hope of our remissionis,
Allace, our panis ar Insufferabyll,
And our tormentis to compt Innumirabyll.

Than we beheld quhare mony ane thousand
Comoun peple laye flichtrand in the fyre:
Off euerilk stait thare was ane bailfull band.
Thare mycht be sene mony sorrowfull Syre;
Sum for Inuy sufferit; and sum, for Yre;
And sum, for laik of restitutioun
Off wrangous geir, without remissioun.

Mansworne merchandis, for thar wrangus winning;
Hurdaris of gold, and commoun Occararis;
Fals men of Law, in Cautelis rycht cunning;
Theiffis, reuaris, and publict oppressaris.
Sum part thair was of vnleill Lauboraris;
Craftismen thair saw we, out of nummer.
Off ilke stait to declare it wer ane cummer.

And, als, langsum to me for tyll Indyte
Off this presoun the panis in speciall,
The heit, the calde, the dolour, and dispyte,
Quharefor, I speik of thame in generall;
That dully den, that furneis Infernall,
Quhose reward is rew, without remede,
Euer deyand, and neuer to be dede;

Hounger and thrist, in steid of meit and drynk,
And, for thare clethyng, tadis and Scorpionis.
That myrke Mansioun is tapessit with stynk;
Thay se bot horrabyll visionis;
Thay heir bot scorne and derysionis
Off foule feindis, and blasphemationis;
Thare feillyng is Importabyll passionis;

For melody, miserabyll murnyng;
Thare is na solace, bot dolour Infinyte,
In bailfull beddis bitterlye burnyng,
With sobbyng, syching, sorrow, and with syte.
Thare conscience thare hartis so did byte,
To heir thame flyte, it was ane cace of cair.
So in dispyte, plu[n]geit in to dispair,

A lytill aboue that dolorous doungeoun,
We enterit in ane countre full of cair,
Quhare that we saw mony ane legioun
Greitand and gowland, with mony reuthful rair.
Quhat place is this, quod I, of blys so bair?
Scho answerit (and said) Purgatorye,
Quhilk purgis Saulis, or they cum to glorye.

I se no plesour heir, bot mekle paine,
Quharefor (said I) leif we this sorte in thrall:
I purpose neuer to cum heir agane;
Bot, ȝit, I do beleue, and euer sall,
That the trew kirk can no waye erre at all.
Sic thyng to be gret Clerkis dois conclude;
Quhowbeit, my hope standis most in cristis blud[e].

Abufe that, in the thrid presoun, anone
We enterit in ane place of perditione
Quhare mony babbis war, makand drery mone
Because thay wantit the fruitioun
Off God, quhilk was ane gret punytioun:
Off Baptisme thay wantit the Ansenȝe.
Upwart we went, and left that myrthles menȝe,

In tyll ane volt, abone that place of paine,
Unto the quhilk, but sudgeorne, we ascendit.
That was the Lymbe, in the quhilk did remaine
Our Forefatheris, because Adam offendit,
Etand the fruit the quhilk was defendit.
Mony ane ȝeir thay dwelt in that doungeoun,
In myrknes and in desolatioun.

Than, throuch the erth, of nature cauld and dry[e],
Glaid to eschaip those places parrelous,
We haistit ws, rycht wounder spedalye:
Ȝit we beheld the secretis maruellous,
The Mynis of gold, and stonis precious,
Off syluer, and of euerilk fyne mettell,
Quhilk to declare it wer ouer lang to dwell.

Up, throuch the walter, schortlie we Intendit,
Quhilk Inuirons the erth, withouttin doute.
Syne, throw the air schortlie we ascendit,
His Regionis throuch, behaldyng in and out[e],
Quhilk erth and walter closis round aboute:
Syne, schortlie vpwarte throw the fyre we went,
Quhilk wes the hiest and hotest Eliment.

Quhen we had all thir Elimentis ouer past,
That is to saye, Erth, walter, air, and fyre,
Upwart we went, withouttin ony rest.
To se the Heuynnis was our maist desyre,
Bot, or we mycht wyn to the heuin Impyre,
We behuffit to passe the way, full ewin,
Up throuch the Speris of the Planetis sewin.

First, to the Mone, and vesyit all hir speir,
Quene of the see, and bewtie of the nycht,
Off nature wak and cauld, and no thyng clere,
For, of hir self, scho hes none vther lycht
Bot the reflex of Phebus bemes brycht.
The twelf singnis scho passis rounde aboute
In aucht and twenty dayis, withouttin dout[e].

Than we ascendit to Mercurious,
Quhilk Poetis callis god of Eloquence,
Rycht Doctourlyke, with termes delicious,
In arte exparte, and full of sapience.
It wes plesour to pans on his prudence.
Payntours, Poetis ar subiect to his cure;
And hote and dry he is, of his nature.

And, als, as cunnyng Astrologis sayis,
He dois compleit his cours, naturallie,
In thre houndreth, and aucht, and thretty dayis.
Syne, vpwart we ascendit, haistelye,
To fair Uenus, quhare scho rycht lustelie
Was set in to ane sett of syluer schene,
That fresche Goddes, that lustie luffis quene,

Thay peirsit myne hart, hir blenkis amorous;
Quhowbeit that, sumtyme, scho is chengeabyll,
With countynance and cheir full dolorous,
Quhylummis rycht plesand, glaid, and delectabyll,
Sumtyme, constant, and, sumtyme, variabyll,
Ȝit hir bewtie, resplendand as the fyre,
Swagis the wraith of Mars, that god of Yre.

This plesand Planeit, geue I can rycht discriue,
Scho is baith hote and wak, of hir nature.
That is the cause, scho is prouocatyue,
Tyll all thame that ar subiect to hir cure,
To Uenus werkis tyll that thay may Indure:
Als, scho completis hir coursis naturall
In twelf monethis, withouttin ony fall.

Than past we to the speir of Phebus brycht,
That lusty lampe and lanterne of the heuin,
And glader of the sterris with his lycht,
And principall of all the planetis sewin,
And satt in myddis of thame all, full ewin,
As Roye royall, rollyng in his speir,
Full plesandlie, in to his goldin Cheir;

Quhose Influence and vertew excellent
Geuis the lyfe tyll euerilk erthlie thyng.
That Prince of euerilk planeit, precellent.
Dois foster flouris, and garris heirbis spryng
Throuch the cauld eirth, and causis birdis syng:
And, als, his regulare mouyng in the hewin
Is Iuste vnder the Zodiack, full ewin.

For to discryue his diadame Royall,
Bordourit aboute with stonis schyning brycht,
His goldin Cairt, or throne Imperiall,
The foure stedis that drawis it full rycht,
I leif to Poetis, because I haue no slycht.
Bot, of his nature, he is hote and drye,
Completand, in ane ȝeir, his cours, trewlie.

Than vp to Mars, in hye, we haistit ws,
Wounder hote, and dryer than the tounder,
His face flamand, as fyre rycht furious.
His bost & brag, more aufull than the thounder,
Maid all the heuin most lyk to schaik in schonder.
Quha wald behauld his countynance and feir,
Mycht call hym, weill, the god of men of weir;

With colour reid, and luke malicious,
Rycht colerick of his complexioun,
Austeir, angrye, sweir, and seditious,
Principall cause of the distructioun
Off mony gude and nobyll Regioun.
War nocht Uenus his yre dois metigate,
This warld of peace wald be full desolate.

This god of greif, withouttin sudgeornyng,
In ȝeris twa his cours he doith compleit.
Than past we vp quhare Iupiter, the kyng,
Satt in his speir, rycht amiabyll and sweit,
Complexionate with waknes and with heit,
That plesand Prince, fair, dulce, and delicate,
Prouokis peace and banesis debait.

The auld Poetis, be superstitioun,
Held Iupiter the Father principall
Off all thare goddes, in conclusioun,
For his prerogatyuis in speciall.
Als, be his vertew, in to generall,
To aulde Saturne he makis resistance,
Quhen, in his malice, he walde wyrk vengeance.

This Iupiter, withouttin sudgeornyng,
Passis throw all the twelf planetis, full ewin,
In ȝeris twelf: and, than, but tarying,
We past vnto the hiest of the sewin,
Tyll Saturnus, quhilk trublis all the hewin
With heuy cheir, and cullour paill as leid.
In hym we sawe bot dolour to the deid;

And cauld and dry he is, of his nature,
Foule lyke ane Oule, of euyll conditioun:
Rycht vnplesand he is of portrature.
His Intoxicat dispositioun,
It puttis all thyng to perditioun,
Ground of seiknes and malancolious,
Peruerst and pure, baith fals and Inuyous.

His qualite I can nocht loue, bot lack.
As for his mouyng, naturallie, but weir,
About the singis of the Zodiack,
He dois compleit his cours in thretty ȝeir:
And so we left hym in his frosty speir.
Upwarte we did ascend, Incontinent,
But rest, tyll we come to the Firmament,

The quhilk was fixit full of sterris brycht,
Off figour round, rycht plesand and perfyte,
Quhose influence, and rycht excellent lycht,
And quhose nummer, may nocht be put in wryte.
Ȝit, cunnyng Clerkis dois naturallye indyte,
How that he dois compleit his cours, but weir,
In space of sewin and thretty thousand ȝeir.

Than the nynt Speir, and mouare principall
Off all the laif, we vesyit, all that heuin
Quhose daylie motioun is contyneuall.
Baith firmament and all the planetis sewin,
Frome est to west, garris thame [turne] full ewin,
In to the space of four and twenty houris.
Ȝit, be the myndis of the Austronomouris,

The sewin Planetis, in to thare proper speris,
Frome west to est, thay moue, naturallie,
Sum swyft, sum slaw, as to thare kynde afferis,
As I haue schawin, afore, speciallie,
Quhose motioun causis contynewallie
Rycht melodious harmonie and sound,
And all throw mouyng of those Planetis round.

Than montit we, with rycht feruent desyre,
Up throw the heuin callit Christallyne.
And so we enterit in the heuin Impyre,
Quhilk to discryue it passis myne Ingyne,
Quhare God, in to his holy throne deuyne,
Ryngis, in to his glore Inestimabyll,
With Angellis cleir, quhilkis ar Innumirabyll.

In Ordouris nyne thir spretis glorious
Ar deuydit, the quhilkis excellentlye
Makis louyng with sound melodious,
Syngand Sanctus rycht wounder feruentlye.
Thir ordouris nyne thay ar full plesandlye
Deuydit in to Ierarcheis three,
And thre Ordouris in eurilk Ierarche.

The lawest ordoure ar of Angelis brycht,
As Messingeris send vnto this law Regioun.
The secund ordour, Archangelis, full of mycht;
Uirtus, Potestatis, Principatis of renoun;
The saxt is callit Dominatioun;
The sewint, Thronus; the auchtin, Cherubin;
The nynt, and heast, callit Seraphin.

And, nyxt, on to the blyssit Trynitie,
In his Tryumphant throne Imperiall,
Thre in tyll one, and one substance in thre,
Quhose indiuisabyll essens eternall
The rude Ingyne of mankynd is to small
Tyll comprehend, quhose power Infinyte
And deuyne nature no Creature can wryte.

So, myne Ingyne is nocht suffecient
For to treit of his heych Deuinitie.
All mortal men ar Insufficient
Tyll considder thay thre in vnitie.
Sic subtell mater I man, on neid, lat be:
To study on my Creid it war full fair,
And lat Doctouris of sic hie materis declare.

Than we beheld the blyste Humanitie
Off Christe, sittand in to his Sege Royall,
At the rycht hand of the Deuynitie,
With ane excelland courte Celestiall,
Quhose exersitioun contynewall
Was in louyng thair Prince with reuerence,
And on this wyse thay kepit ordinance.

Nyxt to the Throne we saw the Quene of Quenis,
Weill cumpanyit with Ladyis of delyte.
Sweit was the sang of those blyssit Uirginnis:
No mortall man thare solace may indyte.
The Angellis brycht, in nummer infinyte,
Euerilk ordour in thare awin degre,
War officiaris vnto the deite.

Patriarkis and Prophetis honorabyll,
Collaterall counsalouris in his consistorye,
Euangellistis, Apostolis venerabyll,
War Capitanis on to the Kyng of Glorye,
Quhilk Chiftane lyke had woun the Uictorye.
Off that tryumphand courte celestiall
Sanct Peter was Lufetenand generall.

The Martyris war as nobyll stalwart Knychtis,
Discomfatouris of creuell battellis thre,
The flesche, the warld, the feind, & all his mychtis;
Confessouris, Doctouris in Diuinitie,
As Chapell clerkis on to his deite.
And, last, we sawe infinyte multytude
Makand seruyce vnto his Celsitude,

Quhilkis, be the hie Deuyne permissioun,
Filicitie thay had Inuariabyll,
And of his Godhed cleir cognitioun.
And compleit peace thay had, Interminabyll;
Thare glore and honour was Inseparabyll.
That plesand place, repleit of pulchritude,
Innumirabyll it was of magnitude.

Thare is plentie of all plesouris perfyte,
Euident brychtnes, but obscuritie;
Withouttin dolour, dulcore, and delyte;
Withouttin rancour, perfyte Cheritie;
Withouttin hunger, Sasiabilitie.
O happy ar those Saulis predestinate,
Quhen Saule and body sall be glorificate

Thir maruellous myrthis for to declare,
Be Arthimatik thay ar Innumirabyll.
The portratour of that p[a]lace preclare,
By Geomatre it is Inmesurabyll;
By Rethorike, als, Inpronunciabyll.
Thare is none eiris may heir, nor Eine may se,
Nor hart may thynk, thare [greit] felycitie.

Quhare to sulde I presume for tyll indyte
The quhilk Sanct Paule, that doctour sapient,
Can nocht expres, nor in to paper wryte,
The hie excelland worke Indeficient,
And perfyte plesoure, euer parmanent,
In presens of that mychtie kyng of glore,
Quhilk was, and is, and sall be euer more.

At Remembrance humilye I did inquyre,
Geue I mycht in that plesour styll remane.
Scho said: aganis reasoun is thy desyre;
Quharefor, my freind, thow mon returne agane,
And, for thy Synnis, be pennance, suffer paine,
And thole the dede, with creuell panis sore,
Or thow be ding to ryng with hym in glore.

Than we returnit, sore aganis my wyll,
Doun throw the speris of the heuinnis cleir.
Hir commandiment behuffit I fulfyll,
With sorye hart, wyt ȝe, withouttin weir.
I wald full faine haif taryit thare all ȝeir,
Bot scho said to me: thare is no remede;
Or thow remane heir, first thow mon be dede.

Quod I: I pray ȝow hartfullye, madame,
Sen we haue had sic Contemplatioun
Off heuinlye plesouris, ȝit or we passe hame,
Lat ws haue sum consideratioun
Off eirth, and of his Situatioun.
Scho answerit and said: that sall be done.
So wer we, boith, brocht in the air, full sone,

Quhare we mycht se the Erth all at one sycht,
Bot lyke one moit, as it apperit to me,
In to the respect of the heuinnis brycht.
I haue maruell, quod I, quhow this may be:
The eirth semis of so small quantitie,
The leist Sterne fixit in the Firmament
Is more than all the eirth, be my Iugment.

THE QVANTITE OF THE ERTH.

Scho sayis: Sonne, thow hes schawin the veritie.
The smallest sterne fixit in the firmament,
In deid it is of greter quantytie
Than all the eirth, efter the intent
Off wyse and cunnyng Clerkis sapient.
Quhat quantytie is, than, the eirth? quod Ie.
That sall I schaw, quod scho, to the schortlie.

Efter the myndis of the Austronimouris,
And, speciallie, the Auctour of the Speir
And vther diuers gret Phelosiphouris,
The quantytie of the erth Circuleir
Is fyftie thousand liggis, withouttin weir,
Sewin houndreth, and fyftie, and no mo,
Deuidyng, aye, ane lig in mylis two.

And euerilk myle in aucht stagis deuyde;
Ilk staige, ane hundrith pais, twenty, and fyue;
Ane pais, fyue fute, quha wald than rycht desyde;
Ane fute, four palmes, geue I can rycht discryue;
Ane palme, four Inche; and, quha sa wald belyue
The Circuit of the eirth passe round aboute,
Man be considderit on this wyse, but doute.

Suppone that thare wai none Impediment,
Bot that the eirth but perrell wer, and plane,
Syne, that the persoun wer rycht deligent,
And ȝeid, ilk day, ten liggis in certane,
He mycht pas round aboute, and cum agane,
In four ȝeris, saxtene oulkis, and dayis two:
Go reid the Auctour, and thow sall fynd it so.

Finis.

THE DEUISIOUN OF THE EIRTH.

Then, certanlye, scho tuke me be the hand,
And said: my sone, cum on thy wayis with me.
And so scho gart me cleirly vnderstand
How that the eirth trypartit wes in thre,
In Affrik, Europe, and Assie,
Efter the myndis of the Cosmographouris,
That is to say, the wardlis Discriptouris.

First, Asia contenis in the Orient,
And is, weill, more than baith the vther twane.
Affrik and Ewrope, in the Occident,
And ar deuydit be ane sey, certane,
And that is callit the see Mediterane,
Quhilk at the strait of Marrok hes entre,
That is betuix Spanȝe and Barbarie.

Towart the southwest lyis Affrica;
And, in the northwest, Europa doith stand;
And all the est contenis Asia:
On this wyse is deuydit the ferme land.
It war mekle to me to tak on hand
Thir regionis to declare in speciall;
Ȝit, sall I schaw thare names in generall.

In mony diuers famous Regionis
Is deuydit this part of Asia,
Weill planesit with Cieteis, towris, and townis:
The gret Ynde, and Mesopotamia,
Penthapolis, Egypt, and Seria,
Capadocia, Seres, and Armenye,
Babilone, Caldia, Perth, and Arabye,

Sedone, Iudea, and Palestina,
Euer, Sethea, Tyir, and Galelie,
Hiberia, Bactria, and Phelestina,
Hircanea, Compagena, and Samarie.
In lytill Asia standis Galathie,
Pamphilia, Isaria, and Leid,
Regia, Arathusa, Assiria, and Meid.

Secundlie, we considderit Africa,
With mony fructfull famous regioun,
As Ethiope, and Tripolitana,
Ȝewges, quhare standis the tryumphant toun
Off nobyll Cartage, that ciete of renoun;
Garamantes, Nadabar, Libia,
Getulia, and Maritania,

Futhensis, Numedie, and Thingetane:
Off Affrick thir ar the principall.
Than Ewrope we considderit, in certane,
Quhose Regionis schortlie rehers I sall.
Foure principallis I fynd abone thame all,
Quhilkis ar Spanȝe, Italie, and France,
Quhose Subregionis wer mekle tyll auance:

Nether Scithia, Trace, and Garmanie,
Thusia, Histria, and Panonia,
Denmark, Gotland, Grunland, and Almanie,
Pole, Hungarie, Boeme, Norica, Rethia,
Teutonia, and mony diuers ma.
And was in foure deuidit Italie,
Tuskane, Ethuria, Naiplis, and Champanye;

And subdeuydit sindry vther wayis,
As Lumbardie, Ueneis, and vther ma,
Calaber, Romanie, and Ianewayis.
In Grece, Eperus, and Dalmatica,
Tessalie, Athica, and Illeria,
Achaya, Boetia, and Macedone,
Archadie, Pierie, and Lacedone.

And France we sawe deuydit in to thre,
Belgica, Rethia, and Aquitane,
And subdeuydit in Flanderis, Picardie,
Normandie, Gasconȝe, Burguinȝe, & Bretane,
And vtheris diuers Duchereis, in certane,
The quhilk[i]s wer to lang for to declare;
Quharefor, of thame as now I speik na mare.

In Spanȝe lyis Castelȝe and Arrogone,
Nauerne, Galice, Portigall, and Garnat[e].
Than sawe we famous Ylis mony one,
Quhilks in the Occiane sey was situate.
Thame to discryue my wyt wes desolate;
Off Cosmographie I am nocht exparte,
For I did neuer study in that arte.

Ȝit I sall sum of thare names declare,
As Madagascar, Gardes, and Taprobane,
And vtheris diuers Ylis gude and fair,
Situate in to the sey Mediterrane,
As Syper, Candie, Corsica, and Sardane,
Crete, Abidos, Thoes, Cecilia,
Tapsone, Eolie, and mony vther ma.

Quho wald at lenth heir the Discriptioun
Off euerilk Yle, als weill as the ferme land,
And properteis of euerilk Regioun,
To study and to reid man tak on hand,
And the attentike werkis vnderstand,
Off Plenius, and worthy Tholomie,
Quhilks war exparte in to Cosmographie.

Thare sall thay fynd the names and properteis
Off euery Yle, and of ilke Regioun.
Than I inquirit of eirthly Paradyce,
Off the quhilk Adam tynt Possessioun.
Than schew scho me the Situatioun
Off that precelland place, full of delyte,
Quhose properteis wer lang for to Indyte.

OF PARADICE.

This Paradyce, of all plesouris repleit,
Situate I saw in to the Orient.
That glorius gairth of euery flouris did fleit:
The lusty Lillyis, the Rosis redolent,
Fresche holesum fructis Indeficient,
Baith herbe and tree, thare growis euer grene,
Throw vertew of the temperat air serene.

The sweit hailsum arromatyke odouris,
Proceidyng frome the herbis Medicinall,
The heuinlie hewis of the fragrant flouris,
It was ane sycht wounder celestiall.
The perfectioun to schaw, in speciall,
And Ioyis, of that Regioun deuyne,
Off mankind it exceidis the Ingyne.

And, als, so hie in Situatioun,
Surmountyng the myd Regioun of the air,
Quhare no maner of perturbatioun
Off wodder may ascend so hie as thair,
Four fludis flowyng frome ane Fontane fair,
As Tygris, Ganges, Ewphrates, and Nyle,
Quhilk, in the est, Transcurris mony ane myle.

The countre closit is aboute, full rycht,
With wallis hie, of hote and birnyng fyre,
And straitly kepit be ane Angell brycht,
Sen the departyng of Adam, our Grandschyre,
Quhilk, throw his cryme, Incurrit Goddis Yre,
And of that place tynte the Possessioun,
Baith frome hym self and his Successioun.

Quhen this lufesum lady Rememb[e]rance
All this foresaid had gart me vnderstand,

I prayit hir, of hir beneuolence,
To schaw to me the countre of Scotland.
Weill, sonne (scho said), that sall I tak on hand.
So, suddanlie scho brocht me, in certane,
Ewin Iuste abone the braid Yle of Bertane,

Quhilk standis northwest, in the Occiane see,
And deuydit in famous Regionis two,
The south part, Ingland, ane full ryche countre,
Scotland, be north, with mony Ylis mo.
Be west Ingland, Yriland doith stand, also,
Quhose properteis I wyll nocht tak on hand
To schaw at lenth, bot only of Scotland.

OF THE REALME OF SCOTLAND.

Quhilk, efter my sempyll Intandiment,
And as Remymbrance did to me report,
I sall declare the suith and verrayment,
As I best can, and in to termes schort.
Quharfor, effecteouslie I ȝow exhorte,
Quhowbeit my wrytting be nocht tyll auance,
Ȝit, quhare I faill, excuse myne Ignorance.

Quhen that I had ouersene this Regioun,
The quhilk, of nature, is boith gude and fair,
I did propone ane lytill questioun,
Beseikand hir the sam for to declare.
Quhat is the cause our boundis bene so bair?
Quod I: or quhate dois mufe our Miser[i]e?
Or quhareof dois proceid our pouertie?

For, throw the supporte of ȝour hie prudence,
Off Scotland I persaue the properteis,

And, als, considderis, be experience,
Off this countre the gret commoditeis.
First, the haboundance of fyschis in our seis,
And fructuall montanis for our bestiall;
And, for our cornis, mony lusty vaill;

The ryche Ryueris, plesand and proffitabyll;
The lustie loochis, with fysche of sindry kyndis;
Hountyng, halkyng, for nobyllis conuenabyll;
Forrestis full of Da, Ra, Hartis, and Hyndis;
The fresche fontanis, quhose holesum cristel strandis
Refreschis so the [fair] fluriste grene medis:
So laik we no thyng that to nature nedis.

Off euery mettell we haue the ryche Mynis,
Baith Gold, Syluer, and stonis precious.
Howbeit we want the Spyces and the Wynis,
Or vther strange fructis delycious,
We haue als gude, and more neidfull for ws.
Meit, drynk, fyre, clathis, thar mycht be gart abound,
Quhilkis als is nocht in al the Mapamound;

More fairer peple, nor of gretar ingyne,
Nor of more strenth gret dedis tyll indure.
Quharefor, I pray ȝow that ȝe wald defyne
The principall cause quharefor we ar so pure;
For I maruell gretlie, I ȝow assure,
Considderand the peple and the ground,
That Ryches suld nocht in this realme redound.

My Sonne, scho said, by my discretioun,
I sall mak answeir, as I vnderstand.
I say to the, vnder confessioun,
The falt is nocht, I dar weill tak on hand,
Nother in to the peple nor the land.
As for the land, it lakis na vther thing
Bot laubour and the pepyllis gouernyng.

Than quharein lyis our Inprosperitie?
Quod I. I pray ȝow hartfullie, Madame,
Ȝe wald declare to me the veritie;
Or quho sall beir of our barrat the blame?
For, be my treuth, to se I thynk gret schame
So plesand peple, and so fair ane land,
And so few verteous dedis tane on hand.

Quod scho: I sall, efter my Iugement,
Declare sum causis, in to generall,
And, in to termes schorte, schaw myne intent,
And, syne, transcend more in to speciall.
So, this is myne conclusioun fynall:
Wantyng of Iustice, polycie, and peace,
Ar cause of thir vnhappynes, allace,

It is deficill Ryches tyll incres,
Quhare Polycie makith no residence,
And Policey may neuer haue entres,
Bot quhare that Iustice dois delygence
To puneis quhare thare may be found offence.
Iustice may nocht haue Dominatioun,
Bot quhare Peace makis habitatioun.

Quhat is the cause, that wald I vnderstand,
That we sulde want Iustice and polycie
More than dois France, Italie, or Ingland?
Madame, quod I, schaw me the veritie:
Sen we haue Lawis in [to] this countre,
Quhy want we lawis Exersitioun?
Quho suld put Iustice tyll exicutioun?

Quhare in dois stand our principall remeid?
Or quha may mak mendis of this myscheif?
Quod scho: I fynd the falt in to the heid;
For thay in quhome dois ly our hole releif,
I fynd thame rute and grund of all our greif.
For, quhen the heddis ar nocht delygent,
The membris man, on neid, be necligent.

So, I conclude, the causis principall
Off all the trubyll of this Natioun
Ar in to Prencis, in to speciall,
The quhilkis hes the Gubernatioun,
And of the peple Dominatioun,
Quhose contynewall exersitioun
Sulde be in Iustice Exicutioun.

For, quhen the sleuthful hird dois sloug and sleip,
Taking no cure in kepyng of his floke,
Quho wyll go sers amang sic heirdis scheip,
May, habyll, fynd mony pure scabbit crok,
And goyng wyll at large, withouttin lok.
Than Lupis cumis, and Lowrance, in ane lyng,
And dois, but reuth, the sely scheip dounthryng.

Bot the gude hird, walkryfe and delygent,
Doith so, that all his flokis ar rewlit rycht,
To quhose quhissill all ar obedient.
And, geue the wolffis cumis, daye or nycht,
Thame to deuore, than ar thay put to flycht,
Houndit, and slane be thare weill dantit doggis:
So ar thay sure, baith ȝowis, lambis, & hoggis.

So, I conclud[e] that, throw the necligence
Off our infatuate heidis Insolent,
Is cause of all this realmes indigence,
Quhilkis in Iustice hes nocht bene delygent,
Bot to gude counsall inobedient,
Hauand small Ee vnto the comoun weill,
Bot to thare singulare proffect euerilk deill.

For, quhen thir Wolffis, be oppressioun,
The pure peple but piete doith oppres,
Than sulde the prencis mak punisioun,
And cause tha Rebauldis for to mak redres,
That ryches mycht be, and Policey incres.
Bot rycht difficill is to mak remeid,
Quhen that the falt is so in to the heid.

THE COMPLAYNT OF THE COMOUN WEILL OF SCOTLAND.

And, thus as we wer talking to and fro,
We saw a boustius berne cum ouir the bent,
But hors, on fute, als fast as he mycht go,
Quhose rayment wes all raggit, rewin, & rent,
With wisage leyne, as he had fastit lent:
And fordwart fast his wayis he did aduance,
With ane rycht malancolious countynance,

With scrip on hip, and pyikstaff in his hand,
As he had purposit to passe fra hame.
Quod I: gude man, I wald faine vnderstand,
Geue that ȝe plesit, to wyt quhat wer ȝour name.
Quod he: my Sonne, of that I think gret schame;
Bot, sen thow wald of my name haue ane feill,
Forsuith, thay call me Ihone the comoun weill.

Schir Commoun weill, quho hes ȝow so disgysit?
Quod I: or quhat makis ȝow so miserabyll?
I haue maruell to se ȝow so supprysit,
The quhilk that I haue sene so honorabyll.
To all the warld ȝe haue bene proffitabyll,
And weill honorit in euerilk Natioun:
How happinnis, now, ȝour tribulatioun?

Allace, quod he, thow seis how it dois stand
With me, and quhow I am disherisit
Off all my grace, and mon pas of Scotland,
And go, afore quhare I was cherisit.
Remane I heir, I am bot perysit.
For thare is few to me that takis tent,
That garris me go so raggit, rewin, and rent.

My tender friendis ar all put to the flycht;
For polecey is fled agane in France.
My Syster, Iustice, almaist haith tynt hir sycht,
That scho can nocht hald ewinly the ballance.
Plane wrang is plane capitane of Ordinance,
The quhilk debarris Laute and reassoun,
And small remeid is found for oppin treassoun.

In to the south, allace, I was neir slane:
Ouer all the land I culd fynd no releiff;
Almoist betuix the Mers and Lowmabane
I culde nocht knaw ane leill man be ane theif.
To schaw thare reif, thift, murthour, and mischeif,
And vecious workis, it wald infect the air:
And, als, langsum to me for tyll declair.

In to the hieland I could fynd no remeid,
Bot suddantlie I wes put to exile.
Tha sweir swyngeoris thay tuke of me non heid,
Nor amangs thame lat me remane ane quhyle.
Als, in the oute Ylis, and in Argyle,
Unthrift, sweirnes, falset, pouertie, and stryfe
Pat polacey in dainger of hir lyfe.

In the law land I come to seik refuge,
And purposit thare to mak my residence.
Bot singulare proffect gart me soune disluge,
And did me gret Iniuris and offence,
And said to me: swyith, harlote, hy the hence;
And in this countre se thow tak no curis,
So lang as my auctoritie induris.

And now I may mak no langer debait;
Nor I wate nocht quhome to I suld me mene;
For I haue socht throw all the Spirituall stait,
Quhilkis tuke na compt for to heir me complene.
Thare officiaris, thay held me at disdane;
For Symonie, he rewlis vp all that rowte;
And Couatyce, that Carle, gart bar me oute.

Pryde haith chaist [far] frome thame humilitie;
Deuotioun is fled vnto the freris;
Sensuale plesour hes baneist Chaistitie;
Lordis of Religioun, thay go lyke Seculeris,
Taking more compt in tellyng thare deneris
Nor thay do of thare constitutioun,
Thus ar thay blyndit be ambitioun.

Oure gentyll men ar all degenerat[e];
Liberalitie and Lawte, boith, ar loste;
And Cowardyce with Lordis is laureate;
And knychtlie curage turnit in brag and boste;
The Ciuele weir misgydis euer[ilk] oist.
Thare is nocht ellis bot ilk man for hym self,
That garris me go, thus baneist lyke ane elf.

Tharefor, adew; I may no langer tarye.
Fair weill, quod I, and with sanct Ihone to borrow.
Bot, wyt ȝe weill, my hart was wounder sarye,
Quhen comoun weill so sopit was in sorrow.
Ȝit, efter the nycht cumis the glaid morrow;
Quharefor, I pray ȝow, schaw me, in certane,
Quhen that ȝe purpose for to cum agane.

That questioun, it sall be sone desydit,
Quod he: thare sall na Scot haue confortyng
Off me, tyll that I see the countre gydit
Be wysedome of ane gude auld prudent kyng,
Quhilk sall delyte hym maist, abone all thyng,
To put Iustice tyll exicutioun,
And on strang tratouris mak puneisioun.

Als ȝit to the I say ane vther thyng:
I se, rycht weill, that prouerbe is full trew,
Wo to the realme that hes ouir ȝoung ane king.
With that, he turnit his bak, and said adew.
Ouer firth and fell rycht fast fra me he flew,
Quhose departyng to me was displesand.
With that, Remembrance tuk me be the hand,

And sone, me thocht, scho brocht me to the roche,
And to the coue quhare I began to sleip.
With that, one schip did spedalye approche,
Full plesandlie saling apone the deip,
And syne did slake hir salis, and gan to creip
Towart the land, anent quhare that I lay:
Bot, wyt ȝe weill, I gat ane fellown fraye.

All hir Cannounis sche leit craik of at onis:
Down schuke the stremaris frome the topcastell;
Thay sparit nocht the poulder, nor the stonis;
Thay schot thare boltis, & doun thar ankeris fell;
The Marenaris, thay did so ȝoute and ȝell,
That haistalie I stert out of my dreme,
Half in ane fray, and spedalie past hame,

And lychtlie dynit, with lyste and appityte,
Syne efter, past in tyll ane Oritore,
And tuke my pen, and thare began to wryte
All the visioun that I haue schawin afore.
Schir, of my dreme as now thov gettis no more,
Bot I beseik God for to send the grace
To rewle thy realme in vnitie and peace.

HEIR ENDIS THE DREME AND BEGYNNIS THE EXHORTATIOUN TO THE KYNGIS GRACE.

Schir, Sen that God, of his preordinance,
Haith grantit the to haue the gouernance
Off his peple, and create the one Kyng,
Faill nocht to prent in thy Rememb[e]rance,
That he wyll nocht excuse thyne Ignorance,
Geue thow be rekles in thy gouernyng.
Quharefor, dres the, abone all vther thyng,
Off his lawis to keip the obseruance,
And thow schaip lang in Ryaltie to ryng.

Thank hym that hes commandit Dame Nature
To prent the of so plesand portrature:
Hir gyftis may be cleirly on the knawin.
Tyll dame Fortune thow nedis no procurature;
For scho hes lairglie kyith on the hir cure,
Hir gratytude sche hes on to the schawin.
And, sen that thow mon scheir as thow hes sawin,
Haue all thy hope in God, thy Creature,
And aske hym grace, that thow may be his awin.

And, syne, considder thy vocatioun,
That for to haue the gubernatioun
Off this kynrik thov art predestinate.
Thov may weill wyt, be trew narratioun,
Quhat sorrow and quhat trubulatioun
Haith bene in this pure realme infortunate.
Now conforte thame that hes bene desolate;
And of thy peple haue compassioun,
Sen thow be God art so preordinate.

Tak Manlie curage, and leif thyne Insolence,
And vse counsale of nobyll dame Prudence.
Founde the fermelie on faith and fortytude:
Drawe to thy courte Iustice and Temporance;
And to the commoun weill haue attendance.
And, also, I beseik thy Celsitude,
Hait vicious men, and lufe thame that ar gude;
And ilke flattrer thow fleme frome thy presence,
And fals reporte out of thy courte exclude.

Do equale Iustice boith to gret and small;
And be exampyll to thy peple all,
Exersing verteous deidis honorabyll.
Be nocht ane wrache, for oucht that may befall.
To that vnhappy vice and thow be thrall,
Tyll all men thow sall be abhominabyll.
Kyngis nor knychtis ar neuer conuenabyll
To rewle peple, be thay nocht lyberall:
Was neuer ȝit na wrache to honour habyll.

And tak exempyll of the wracheit endyng
Quhilk maid Mydas of Trace, the mychtie king,
That to his Goddes maid Inuocatioun,
Throw gredines, that all substanciall thing
That euer he twycheit suld turne, but tarying,
In to fyne gold: he gat his supplication.
All that he twychit, but delatioun,
Turnit in gold, boith meit, drynk, and clethyng,
And deit of hounger, but recreatioun.

Als I beseik thy Maiestie serene,
Frome Lychorie thow keip thy body clene.
Taist neuer that Intoxicat poysoun.
Frome that vnhappy sensuall syn abstene,
Tyll that thow get ane lusty, plesand Quene:
Than tak thy plesour, with my benesoun.
Tak tent, how prydful Tarquyne tynt his croun,
For the deforsyng of Lucres, the schene,
And was depryuit and baneist Romes toun.

And, in dispyit of his Lycherous leuyng,
The Romanis wald be subiect to no kyng,
Mony lang ȝeir, as storyis doith recorde,
Tyll Iulyus, throw verteous gouernyng
And Princelie curage, gane on thame to ryng,
And chosin of Romanis Empriour and lord.
Quharfor, my Souerane, in to thy mynd remord,
That vicious lyfe makis oft ane euyll endyng,
Without it be throw speciall grace restord.

And geue thow wald thy faime and honour grew,
Use counsall of thy prudent Lordis trew,
And se thow nocht presumpteouslie pretend
Thy awin perticulare weill for tyll Ensew.
Wyrk with counsall, so sall thow neuer rew:
Remember of thy freindis the fatell end,
Quhilks to gude counsall wald not condiscend,
Tyll bitter deith, allace, did thame persew.
Frome sic vnhape I pray God the defend.

And, fynalie, remember thow mon dee,
And suddanlie pas of this mortal see:
And art nocht sicker of thy lyfe two houris,
Sen thare is none frome that scentence may fle,
Kyng, Quene, nor knycht, of lawe estait, nor hie,
Bot all mon thole of deith the bitter schouris.
Quhar bene thay gone, thir Papis, & empriouris?
Bene thay nocht dede? so sall it fair on the:
Is no remeid, strenth, ryches, nor honouris.

FINIS.

And so, for conclusioun,
Mak our Prouisioun,
To get the infusiou[n]
Off his hie grace,
Quhilk bled with effusioun,
With scorne and derisioun,
And deit with confusioun,
Co[n]firmand our peace.

Amen.

HEIR BEGINNIS THE COMPLAYNT OF SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY.

Schir, I beseik thyne Excellence,
Heir my complaynt with pacience.
My dolent hart dois me constrane
Off my infortune to complane,
Quhowbeit I stand in gret dowtance
Quhome I sall wyte of my myschance:
Quhidder Saturnis creueltie,
Ryngand in my Natyuitie,
Be bad aspect, quhilk wyrkis vengeance,
Or vtheris heuinlye influence;
Or geue I be predestinate
In Courte to be Infortunate,
Quhilk hes so lang in seruyce bene,
Contynewallie with kyng and quene,
And enterit to thy Maiestie
The day of thy Natyuitie:
Quharethrow my freindis bene eschamit,
And with my fais I am defamit,
Seand that I am nocht regardit,
Nor with my brether in Courte rewardit;
Blamand my sleuthfull neclygence,
That seikis nocht sum recompence.
Quhen diuers men dois me demand,
Quhy gettis thow nocht sum peis of land,
Als weill as vther men hes gottin?
Than wys I to be dede and rottin,
With sic extreme discomfortyng,
That I can mak no answeryng.

I wald sum wyse man did me teche
Quhidder that I suld flatter or fleche.
I wyll nocht flyte, that I conclude,
For crabyng of thy Celsitude,
And to flatter I am defamit:
Want I reward, than am I schamit.
Bot I hope thow sall do als weill
As did the father of Fameill,
Off quhome Christ makis mentioun,
Quhilk, for ane certane pentioun,
Feit men to wyrk in his wyne ȝaird;
Bot quho come last gat first rewaird,
Quharethrow the first men wer displesit;
Bot he thame prudentlie amesit;
For, thocht the last men first wer seruit,
Ȝit gat the first that thay deseruit.
So am I sure thy maiestie
Sall anis rewarde me, or I de,
And rube the ruste of my ingyne,
Quhilk bene, for langour lyke to tyne.
Althocht I beir nocht lyke ane baird,
Lang seruyce ȝarnis, ay, rewaird.

I can nocht blame thyne excellence,
That I so lang want recompence.
Had I solistit, lyke the laif,
My rewarde had nocht bene to craif.
Bot now I may weill vnderstand,
Ane dum man ȝit wan neuer land,
And, in the court, men gettis na thyng
Withoute inopportune askyng.
Allace, my sleuth and schamefulnes
Debarrit fra me all gredynes.
Gredie men that ar delygent
Rycht oft obtenis thare intent,
And failȝeis nocht to conqueis landis
And, namelye, at ȝoung Prencis handis.
Bot I tuke neuer non vther cure
In speciall, bot for thy plesour.

Bot now I am na mair dispaird,
Bot I sall get Princely rewaird,
The quhilk, to me, sall be mair glore
Nor thame thow did reward afore.
Quhen men dois aske ocht at ane kyng,
Sulde aske his grace ane nobyll thyng,
To his Excellence honorabyll,
And to the asker proffitabyll
Thocht I be, in my askyng, lidder,
I praye thy grace for to considder
Thow hes maid baith lordis and lairdis,
And hes gewin mony ryche rewardis
To thame that was full far to seik,
Quhen I lay nychtlie be thy cheik.

I tak the Quenis grace, thy mother,
My lord Chanclare, and mony vther,
Thy Nowreis, and thy auld Maistres,
I tak thame, all, to beir wytnes.
Auld Wille Dile, wer he on lyue,
My lyfe full weill he could discryue:
Quhow, as ane Chapman beris his pak,
I bure thy grace vpon my bak,
And, sumtymes, strydlingis on my nek,
Dansand with mony bend and bek.
The first sillabis that thow did mute
Was þa, Da Lyn: vpon the lute
Than playt I twenty spryngis, perqueir,
Quhilk wos gret piete for to heir.
Fra play thow leit me neuer rest,
Bot gynkartoun thow lufit, ay, best.
And, ay, quhen thow come frome the scule,
Than I behuffit to play the fule:
As I at lenth, in to my dreme,
My sindry seruyce did expreme.
Thocht it bene better, as sayis the wyse,
Hape to the court nor gude seruyce,
I wate thow luffit me better, than,
Nor, now, sum wyfe dois hir gude man.

Than men tyll vther did recorde,
Said Lyndsay wald be maid ane lorde.
Thow hes maid lordis, schir, be sanct Geill,
Off sum that hes nocht seruit so weill.

To ȝow, my Lordis, that standis by,
I sall ȝow schaw the causis quhy.
Geue ȝe lyst tary, I sall tell,
Quhow my infortune first befell.
I prayit daylie, on my knee,
My ȝoung maister that I mycht see
Off eild, in his aistait Royall,
Hauand power Imperyall.
Than traistit I, without demand,
To be promouit to sum land.
Bot my askyng I gat ouer soun,
Because ane clips fell in the mone,
The quhilk all Scotland maid asteir.
Than did my purpose ryn arreir,
The quhilk war langsum to declare,
And, als, my hart is wounder sare,
Quhen I haue in rememb[e]rance
The suddand cheange, to my myschance.
The kyng was bot twelf ȝeris of aige,
Quhen new rewlaris come, in thare raige,
For commoun weill makand no cair,
Bot for thare proffeit singulair.

Imprudentlie, lyk wytles fullis,
Thay tuke that ȝoung Prince frome the sculis,
Quhare he, vnder Obedience,
Was lernand vertew and science,
And haistelie plat in his hand
The gouernance of all Scotland;
As quho wald, in ane stormye blast,
Quhen Marinaris bene all agast
Throw dainger of the seis raige,
Wald tak ane chylde of tender aige,
Quhilk neuer had bene on the sey,
And to his biddyng all obey,

Geuyng hym haill the gouernall
Off schip, marchand, and Marinall.
For dreid of rockis and foreland,
To put the ruther in his hand,
Without godds grace, is no refuge:
Geue thare be dainger, ȝe may Iuge.
I gyf thame to the deuyll of hell,
Quhilk first deuysit that counsell.
I wyll nocht say that it was treassoun,
Bot I dar sweir, it was no reassoun.
I pray God, lat me neuer se ryng,
In to this realme, so ȝoung ane kyng.

I may nocht tary to desyd it,
Quhow than the court, ane quhyle, was gydit
Be thame that peirtlye tuke on hand
To gyde the kyng and all Scotland:
And, als, langsum for to declare
Thare facound flattryng wordis fair.
Schir, sum wald say, ȝour maiestie
Sall now go to ȝour lybertie;
Ȝe sall to no man be coactit,
Nor to the scule no more subiectit:
We thynk thame verray naturail fulis,
That lernis ouir mekle at the sculis.
Schir, ȝe mon leir to ryn ane speir,
And gyde ȝow lyke ane man of weir;
For we sall put sic men aboute ȝow,
That all the warld and mo sall doute ȝow.
Than to his grace thay put ane gaird,
Quhilk haistelie gat thare rewaird.
Ilke man, efter thare qualitie,
Thay did solyst his maiestie.
Sum gart hym raiffell at the rakcat;
Sum harld hym to the hurly hakcat;
And sum, to schaw thare courtlie corsis,
Wald ryid to leith, and ryn thare horssis,
And wychtlie wallope ouer the sandis;
Ȝe, nother sparit spurris nor wandis;

Castand galmoundis, with bendis and beckis,
For wantones, sum braik thare neckis.
Thare was no play bot cartis and dyce,
And ay schir flattre bure the pryce;
Roundand and rowkand, ane tyll vther.
Tak thow my part, quod he, my bruther,
And mak, betuix ws, sicker bandis,
Quhen ocht sall vaik amangs our handis,
That ilk man stand to help his fallow.
I hald thareto, man, be alhallow,
Swa thow fy[s]che nocht within my boundis.
That sall I nocht, be godis woundis,
Quod he, bot erar tak thy part;
Swa sall I thyne, be god[di]s hart:
And, geue the Thesaureir be our freind,
Than sall we get baith tak and teind.
Tak he our part, than quha dar wrang ws?
Bot we sall part the pelf amang ws.
Bot haist vs, quhill the kyng is ȝoung,
And lat ilk man keip weill ane toung,
And in ilk quarter haue ane spye,
Ws tyll aduerteis haistelie,
Quhen ony casualiteis
Sall happin in [to] our countreis.
Lat ws mak sure prouissioun,
Or he cum to discretioun.
No more he wate nor dois ane sancte,
Quhat thyng it bene to haue, or wante.
So, or he be of perfyte aige,
We sall be sicker of our waige;
And, syne, lat ilk ane carle craif vther.
That mouth speik mair, quod he, my brother,
For god, nor I rax in ane raipe,
Thow mycht geue counsale to the Pape.
Thus lauborit thay within few ȝeris,
That thay become no pagis peris,
Swa haistelye thay maid ane band.
Sum gadderit gold, sum conqueist land.

Schir, sum wald say, be sanct Dinnyce,
Geue me sum fate Benefyce;
And all the proffect ȝe sall haue:
Geue me the name, tak ȝow the laue.
Bot, be his Bowis war weill cumit hame,
To mak seruyce he wald thynk schame;
Syne, slyp awaye, withouttin more,
Quhen he had gottin that he sang fore.
Me thocht it was ane pieteous thyng,
To se that fair, ȝoung, tender kyng,
Off quhome thir gallandis stude no awe,
To play with hym, pluke at the crawe.
Thay become ryche, I ȝowe assure,
Bot aye the Prence remanit pure.
Thare wes few of that garisoun
That lernit hym ane gude lessoun;
Bot sum to crak, and sum to clatter,
Sum maid the fule, and sum did flatter.
Quod ane: the Deuyll stik me with ane knyfe,
Bot, schir, I knaw ane maid in fyfe,
Ane of the lusteast wantoun lassis,
Quhare to, schir, be gods blude scho passis.
Hald thy toung, brother, quod ane vther,
I knaw ane fairar, be fyftene futher.
Schir, quhen ȝe pleis to Leithgow pas.
Thare sall ȝe se ane lusty las.
Now trittyll, trattyll, trolylow,
Quod the thrid man; thow dois bot mow.
Quhen his grace cumis to fair sterlyng,
Thair sall he se ane dayis derlyng.
Schir, quod the fourt, tak my counsall,
And go, all, to the hie boirdall.
Thare may we lope at lybertie,
Withouttin ony grauitie.
Thus euery man said for hym self,
And did amangis thame part the pelf.
Bot I, allace, or euer I wyste,
Was trampit doun in to the douste,

With heuy charge, withouttin more,
Bot I wyst neuer ȝit quharefore,
And haistellie, before my face,
Ane vther slippit in my place,
Quhilk rychelie gat his rewaird,
And stylit was the Anscient laird.
That tyme I mycht mak no defence,
Bot tuke, perforce, in pacience,
Prayand to send thame ane myschance
That had the court in gouernance,
The quhilkis aganis me did malyng,
Contrar the plesour of the kyng.
For weill I knew his graces mynd
Was euer to me trew and kynd,
And, contrar thare Intentioun,
Gart pay me, weill, my pentioun.
Thocht I, ane quhyle, wantit presence,
He leit me haue no Indigence.
Quhen I durst nother peip nor luke,
Ȝit wald I hyde me in ane nuke,
To se those vncouth vaniteis,
Quhow thay, lyke ony beisy beis,
Did occupy thare goldin houris,
With help of thare new gouernouris.
Bot, my complaynt for to compleit,
I gat the soure, and thay the sweit.
Als, Ihone Makerery, the kyngis fule,
Gat dowbyll garmoundis agane the ȝule,
Ȝit, in his maist tryumphant glore,
For his rewarde, gat the grand gore.
Now in the court seindell he gois,
In dreid men stramp vpon his tois,
As I, that tyme, durst nocht be sene
In oppin court, for baith my Eine.

Allace, I haue no tyme to tary,
To schaw ȝow all the fery fary,
Quhow those that had the gouernance
Amangis thame selfis raist variance;

And quho maist to my skaith consentit,
Within few ȝeris full sore repentit,
Quhen thay could mak me no remeid;
For thay war harlit out be the heid,
And vtheris tuke the gouernyng,
Weill wors than thay in alkin thyng.
Thay lordis tuke no more regaird,
Bot quho mycht purches best rewaird.
Sum to thare freindis gat benefyceis,
And vther sum gat Byschopreis.
For euery lord, as he thocht best,
Brocht in ane bird to fyll the nest,
To be ane wacheman to his marrow.
Thay gan to draw at the cat harrow.
The proudest Prelatis of the kirk
Was faine to hyde thame in the myrk
That tyme, so failȝeit wes thare sycht.
Sen syne thay may nocht thole the lycht
Off Christis trew Gospell to be sene,
So blyndit is thare corporall Ene
With wardly lustis sensuall,
Takyng in realmes the gouernall,
Baith gyding court and cessioun,
Contrar to thare professioun,
Quhareof I thynk thay sulde haue schame,
Off spirituall preistis to tak the name.
For Esayas, in to his wark,
Callis thame lyke Doggis that can nocht bark,
That callit ar preistis, and can nocht preche,
Nor Christis law to the peple teche.
Geue for to preche bene thare professioun,
Quhy sulde thay mell with court, or Cessioun,
Except it war in spirituall thyngis;
Referryng vnto lordis and kyngis
Temporall causis to be desydit?
Geue thay thare spirituall office gydit,
Ilke man mycht say, thay did thare partis.
Bot, geue thay can play at the cairtis,

And mollet moylie on ane Mule,
Thocht thay had neuer sene the scule,
Ȝit, at this day, als weill as than,
Wyll be maid sic ane spirituall man.
Prencis that sic prelatis promofis
Accompt thareof to geue behuffis,
Quhilk sall nocht pas but puneischement,
Without thay mend and sore repent,
And, with dew ministratioun,
Wyrk efter thare vocatioun.
I wys that thyng quhilk wyll nocht be,
Thir peruerst Prelatis ar so hie.
Frome tyme that thay bene callit lordis,
Thay ar occasioun of discordis,
And lairglie wyll propynis hecht,
To gar ilk lord with vther fecht,
Geue for thare part it may auaill.
Swa, to the purpose of my taill.
That tyme, in court, rais gret debait,
And euerilk lord did stryue for stait,
That all the realme mycht mak no reddyng,
Quhill on ilk syde thare was blude scheddyng,
And feildit vther, in land and burgh,
Att Lyithgow, Melros, and Edinburgh.
Bot, to deplore I thynk gret paine
Off nobyll men that thare was slane,
And, als, langsum to be reportit
Off thame quhilk to the court resortit;
As tyrrannis, tratouris, and transgressouris,
And commoun publict plaine oppressouris,
Men murdresaris, and commoun theiffis,
In to that court gat, all, releiffis.
Thair was few lordis, in all thir landis,
Bot tyll new regentis maid thare bandis.
Than rais ane reik, or euer I wyste,
The quhilk gart all thare bandis bryste.
Than thay allone quhilk had the gyding,
Thay culde nocht keip thare feit frome slyding,

Bot of thare lyffis thay had sic dreid,
That thay war faine tyll trott ouer tweid.

Now, Potent Prince, I say to the,
I thank the haly Trinitie,
That I haue leuit to se this daye,
That all that warld is went awaye,
And thow to no man art subiectit,
Nor to sic counsalouris coactit.
The foure gret verteous Cardinalis,
I see thame with the principalis.
For Iustice haldis hir sweird on hie,
With hir ballance of Equitie,
And, in this realme, hes maid sic ordour,
Baith throw the heland and the bordour,
That oppressioun and all his fallowis
Ar hangit heych apon the gallowis.
Dame Prudence hes the be the heid,
And temporance dois thy brydill leid.
I se dame force mak assistance,
Berand thy Targe of assurance;
And lusty lady Chaistitie
Hes baneist Sensualitie.
Dame Ryches takis on the sic cure,
I pray God that scho lang indure,
That Pouertie dar nocht be sene
In to thy hous, for baith hir Ene,
Bot fra thy grace fled mony mylis,
Amangis the Hountaris in the Ylis.
Dissimulance dar nocht schaw hir face,
Quhilk wount was to begyill thy grace;
Foly is fled out of the toun,
Quhilk ay was countrar to ressoun;
Polyce and Peace begynnis to plant,
That verteous men can no thyng want;
And, as for sleuthfull Idyll lownis,
Sall fetterit be in the Gailȝeownis.

Ihone Upeland bene full blyith, I trow,
Because the rysche bus kepis his kow.
Swa is thare nocht, I vnderstand,
Withoute gude ordour in this land,
Except the spiritualitie.
Prayand thy grace thareto haue Ee,
Cause thame mak ministratioun
Conforme to thare vocatioun,
To Preche with vnfenȝeit intentis,
And trewly vse the Sacramentis,
Efter Christis Institutionis,
Leuyng thare vaine traditiounis,
Quhilkis dois the syllie scheip Illude,
Quhame for Christ Iesus sched his blude,
As superstitious pylgramagis,
Prayand to grawin Ymagis,
Expres aganis the Lordis command.
I do thy grace tyll vnderstand,
Geue thow to mennis lawis assent,
Aganis the lordis commandiment,
As Ieroboam and mony mo,
Prencis of Israell, allso,
Assentaris to Ydolatrie,
Quhilkis puneist war rycht pieteouslie,
And frome thare realmes wer rutit oute,
So sall thow be, withouttin doute,
Baith heir and hyne, withouttin more,
And want the euerlestyng glore.
Bot, geue thow wyll thy hart inclyne,
And keip his blyssit law deuyne,
As did the faithfull Patriarkis,
Boith in thare wordis and thare warkis,
And as did mony faithfull kyngis,
Off Israell, duryng thare ryngis,
As kyng Dauid and Salomone,
Quhilkis Ymagis wald suffer none
In thare ryche Tempillis for to stand,
Because it was nocht goddis command,

Bot distroyit all Ydolatrie,
As in the scripture thow may see;
Quhose ryche rewarde was heuinly blys,
Quhilk sall be thyne, thow doand this.

Sen thow hes chosin sic ane gaird,
Now am I sure to get rewaird;
And, sen thow art the rychest kyng
That euer in this realme did ryng,
Off gold and stonis precious
Maist prudent and Ingenious,
And hes thy honour done awance,
In Scotland, Ingland, and in France,
Be Merciall dedis honourabyll,
And art tyll euery vertew abyll,
I wat thy grace wyll nocht misken me,
Bot thow wyll vther geue or len me.

Wald thy grace len me, to ane day,
Off gold ane thousand pound, or tway,
And I sall fix, with gude intent,
Thy grace ane daye of pay[e]ment,
With Selit Oblygatioun,
Under this protestatioun:
Quhen the Basse and the Yle of Maye
Beis sett vpon the mont Senaye;
Quhen the lowmound besyde Falkland
Beis lyftit to Northhumberland;
Quhen kirkmen ȝairnis no dignitie,
Nor Wyffis no Soueranitie;
Wynter but frost, snaw, wynd, or rane;
Than sall I geue thy gold agane.
Or I sall mak the pay[e]ment
Efter the daye of Iugement,
Within ane moneth, at the leist,
Quhen Sanct Peter sall mak ane feist
To all the Fyscharis of Aberladye,
Swa thow haue myne Acquittance reddye.
Failȝeand thareof, be sanct Phillane,
Thy grace gettis neuer ane grote agane.

Geue thow be nocht content of this,
I man requeist the Kyng of blys,
That he to me haue sum regaird,
And cause thy grace me to rewaird.
For Dauid, Kyng of Israell,
Quhilk was the gret Propheit Royall,
Sayis, God hes haill at his command
The hartis of Prencis in his hand;
Ewin as he lyste thame for to turne,
That mon thay do withoute sudgeorne;
Sum tyll exault to Dignitie,
And sum to depryue in pouertie;
Sum tyme of lauid men to mak lordis,
And, sum tyme, lordis to bynd in cordis,
And thame alutterlye distroye,
As plesis God, that ryall Roye.
For thow art bot ane Instrument
To that gret kyng Omnipotent.
So, quhen plesis his excellence,
Thy grace sall mak me recompence;
Or he sall cause me stand content
Off quiet lyfe, and sober rent,
And tak me, in my letter aige,
Unto my sempyll Hermytage,
And spend it that my eldaris woun,
As did Matussalem in his toun.
Off this complaynt, with mynd full meik,
Thy graces answeir, schir, I beseik.

FINIS.

Quod Lindesay to [the] Kyng.

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE TESTAMENT, AND COMPLAYNT OF OUR SOUERANE LORDIS PAPYNGO, KYNG IAMES THE FYFT. QUHILK LYITH SORE WOUNDIT, AND MAY NOT DEE, TYLL EUERY MAN HAUE HARD QUHAT HE SAYIS. QUHAREFOR, GENTYLL REDARIS, HAIST ȜOW, THAT HE WER OUT OF PAINE.

COMPYLIT BE SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY OF THE MONT, KNYCHT, ALIAS, LYONE KYNG OF ARMES.

Suppose I had Ingyne Angelicall,
With sapience more than Salamonicall,
I not quhat mater put in memorie;
The Poetis auld, in style Heroycall,
In breue subtell termes Rethorycall,
Off euerilke mater, tragedie, and storie,
So ornatlie, to thare heych laude and glorie,
Haith done Indyte, quhose supreme sapience
Transcendith far the dull Intellygence

Off Poetis now in tyll our vulgare toung;
(For quhy) the bell of Rethorick bene roung
Be Chawceir, Goweir, and Lidgate laureate.
Quho dar presume thir Poetis tyll Impung,
Quhose sweit sentence throuch Albione bene song?
Or quho can now the workis cuntrafait
Off Kennedie, with termes aureait?
Or of Dunbar, quhilk language had at large,
As maye be sene in tyll his golden targe?

Quintyng, Mersar, Rowle, Henderson, hay, & holland,
Thocht thay be ded, thar libells bene leuand,

Quhi[l]kis to reheirs makeith redaris to reiose.
Allace for one, quhilk lampe wes of this land,
Off Eloquence the flowand balmy strand,
And, in our Inglis rethorick, the rose,
As of Rubeis the Charbunckle bene chose:
And, as Phebus dois Synthia presell,
So Gawane Dowglas, Byschope of Dunkell,

Had, quhen he wes in to this land on lyue,
Abufe vulgare Poetis prerogatyue,
Boith in pratick and speculatioun.
I saye no more: gude redaris may discryue
His worthy workis, in nowmer mo than fyue,
And, speciallye, the trew Translatioun
Off Uirgill, quhilk bene consolatioun
To cunnyng men, to knaw his gret Ingyne,
Als weill in Naturall Science as Deuyne.

And, in the courte, bene present, in thir dayis,
That ballattis, breuis lustellie and layis,
Quhilks tyll our Prince daylie thay do present.
Quho can say more than schir Iames Inglis says,
In ballatts, farses, and in plesand playis?
Bot Culrose hes his pen maid Impotent.
Kyde, in cunnyng and pratick rycht prudent;
And Stewarte, quhilk disyrith one staitly style,
Full Ornate werkis daylie dois compyle.

Stewart of Lorne wyll carpe rycht curiouslie;
Galbreith, Kynlouch, quhen thay lyst tham applie
In to that art, ar craftie of Ingyne
Bot, now, of lait, is starte vpe, haistelie,
One cunnyng Clerk, quhilk wrytith craftelie,
One plant of Poetis, callit Ballentyne,
Quhose ornat workis my wytt can nocht defyne:
Gett he in to the courte auctoritie,
He wyll precell Quintyng and Kennetie.

So, thocht I had ingyne, as I haue none,
I watt nocht quhat to wryt, be sweit sanct Ihone;
(For quhy) in all the garth of Eloquence,
Is no thyng left bot barrane stok and stone:
The Poleit termes ar pullit, euerilk one,
Be thir forenamit Poetis of prudence;
And, sen I fynd non vther new sentence,
I sall declare, or I depart ȝow fro,
The complaynt of ane woundit Papingo.

Quharefor, because myne mater bene so rude
Off sentence, and of Rethorike denude,
To rurall folke myne dyting bene directit,
Far flemit frome the sycht of men of gude;
For cunnyng men, I knaw, wyll soune conclude
It dowe no thyng bot for to be deiectit:
And, quhen I heir myne mater bene detractit,
Than sall I sweir, I maid it bot in mowis,
To landwart lassis quhilks kepith kye & ȝowis.

HEIR ENDIS THE PROLOUG. AND FOLLOWIS THE COMPLAYNT.

Quho clymmis to hycht, perforce his feit mon faill;
Expreme I sal that be Experience,
Geue that ȝow pleis to heir one pieteous taill,
How one fair Bird be faitell violence
Deuorit was, and mycht mak no defence
Contrare the deth, so failȝeit naturall strenth:
As efter I sall schaw ȝow at more lenth.

One Papyngo, rycht plesand and perfyte,
Presentit was tyll our moist nobyll kyng,
Of quhome his grace one lang tyme had delyte:
More fair of forme, I wat, flew neuer on wyng.
This proper bird he gaue in gouernyng
To me, quhilk wes his simpyll seruetoure,
On quhome I did my delygence and cure

To lerne hir language artificiall,
To play platfute, and quhissill fute before.
Bot, of hir Inclynatioun naturall,
Scho countrafaitit all fowlis, les and more:
Off hir curage, scho wald, without my lore,
Syng lyke the Merle, and crawe lyke to the coke,
Pew lyke the Gled, and chant lyke the Lauerock,

Bark lyk ane Dog, and kekell lyke ane ka,
Blait lyke ane hog, and buller lyke ane bull,
Gaill lyke ane goik, and greit quhen scho wes wa,
Clym on ane corde, syne lauch & play the fule;
Scho mycht haue bene ane menstrall agane ȝule.
This blyssit bird wes to me so plesande,
Quhare euer I fure, I bure hir on my hande.

And so befell, in tyll ane myrthfull morrow,
In to my garth I past me to repose,
This bird and I, as we wer wount aforrow,
Amang the flowris fresche, fragrant, and formose.
My vitale spretis dewlie did reiose
Quhen Phebus rose, and raue the cloudis sabyll,
Throuch brychtnes of his beamys amyabyll.

Without vapour was weill purificate
The temperat air, soft, sober, and serene.
The erth be Nature so edificate
With holsum herbis, blew, quhyte, reid, & grene;
Quhilk eleuate my spretis frome the splene.
That day Saturne nor Mars durst not appeir,
Nor Eole of his coue he durst nocht steir.

That daye perforce behuffit to be fair,
Be Influence and cours celestiall;
No planete presit for to perturbe the air,
For Mercurious, be mouyng naturall,
Exaultit wes, in to the throne tryumphall
Off his mantioun, vnto the fyftene gre,
In his awin souerane signe of virginee.

That day did Phebus plesandlie depart
Frome Geminie, and enterit in Cancer;
That daye Cupido did extend his dart;
Uenus, that daye, coniunit with Iupiter;
That daye Neptunus hid hym lyke one sker;
That daye dame Nature, with gret besynes,
Fortherit Flora to keyth hir craftynes;

And retrograde wes Mars in Capricorne,
And Synthea in Sagitter assesit;
That daye dame Ceres, goddes of the corne,
Full Ioyfullie Iohane Upponland applesit;
The bad espect of Saturne wes appesit,
That daye, be Iono, of Iupiter the Ioye,
Perturband spretis causyng to hauld coye.

The sound of birdis surmontit all the skyis,
With melodie of notis Musycall;
The balmy droppis of dew Tytane vpdryis,
Hyngande vpone the tender twystis small.
The heuinlie hew and sound Angelicall
Sic perfyte plesoure prentit in myne hart,
That, with gret pyne, frome thyne I mycht depart.

So, styll amang those herbis amyabyll
I did remane one space, for my pastance:
Bot wardlie plesour bene so variabyll,
Myxit with sorrow, dreid, and Inconstance,
That thare in tyll is no contyneuance.
So, mycht I saye, my schorte solace, allace,
Was dreuin in dolour, in one lytill space.

For, in that garth, amang those fragrant flouris,
Walkyng allone, none bot my bird and Ye,
Onto to the tyme that I had said myne houris,
This Bird I sett vpon one branche me bye;
Bot scho began to speill, rycht spedalie,
And in that tree scho did so heych ascende.
That be no waye I mycht hir apprehende.

Sweit bird, said I, be war, mont nocht ouer hie;
Returne in tyme; perchance thy feit may failȝe;
Thov art rycht fat, and nocht weill vsit to fle;
The gredie gled, I dreid, scho the assailȝe.
I wyll, said scho, ascend, vailȝe quod vailȝe;
It is my kynd to clym, aye, to the hycht:
Off fedther and bone, I watt weill, I am wycht.

So, on the heychast lytill tender twyste,
With wyng displayit, scho sat full wantounlie.
Bot Boreas blew one blast, or euer scho wyst,
Quhilk braik the branche, and blew hir, sodantlie,
Doun to the ground, with mony cairfull crye.
Upon ane stob scho lychit, on hir breist;
The blude ruschit out, and scho cryit for a preist.

God wat gyff than my hart wes wo begone,
To see that fowle flychter amang the flouris,
Quhilk, with gret murnyng, gan to mak hir mone.
Now cumyng ar, said scho, the faitall houris;
Off bitter deth now mon I thole the schouris.
O dame Nature, I pray the, of thy grace,
Len me layser to speik one lytill space

For to complene my fait Infortunate,
And so dispone my geir, or I depart;
Sen of all conforte I am desolate,
Allone, except the deth, heir with his darte,
With aufull cheir, reddy to peirs myne hart.
And, with that word, scho tuke one passioun,
Syne flatlyngis fell, and swappit in to swoun.

With sory hart, peirst with compassioun,
And salt teris distellyng frome myne Eine,
To heir that birdis lamentatioun
I did aproche, onder ane hauthorne grene,
Quhare I mycht heir and se, and be vnsene;
And, quhen this bird had swounit twyse or thryse,
Scho gan to speik, sayng on this wyse:

O fals Fortune, quhy hes thov me begylit?
This day at morne quho knew this cairfull cace?
Uaine hope in the my reasoun haith exilit,
Hauyng sic traist in to thy fenȝeit face.
That euer I wes brocht in to the court, allace
Had I in forrest flowin, amang my feris,
I mycht full weill haue leuit mony ȝeris.

Prudent counsell, allace, I did refuse,
Agane reassoun vsyng myne appetyte:
Ambitioun did so myne hart abuse,
That Eolus had me in gret dispyte.
Poetis of me haith mater to indyte,
Quhilk clam so heych, and wo is me thairfore,
Nocht doutyng that the deth durste me deuore.

This daye, at morne, my forme and feddrem fair
Abufe the prude Pacoke war precellande,
And now one catyue carioun, full of cair,
Baithand in blude doun from my hart distelland,
And in myne eir the bell of deith bene knelland.
O fals warld, fy on thy felycitie,
Thy Pryde, Auaryce, and Immundicitie.

In the I see no thyng bene permanent;
Off thy schort solace sorrow is the ende;
Thy fals Infortunate gyftis bene bot lent.
This day, ful prude; the morne, no thyng to spend.
O ȝe that doith pretende aye tyll ascend,
My fatale ende haue in rememberance,
And ȝow defende frome sic vnhappy chance.

Quhydder that I wes strickin in extasie,
Or throuch one stark Imagynatioun,
Bot it apperit, in myne Fantasie,
I hard this dolent lamentatioun.
Thus dullit in to desolatioun,
Me thocht this bird did breue, in hir maneir,
Hir counsale to the Kyng, as ȝe sall heir.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE FIRST EPYSTYLL OF THE PAPYNGO DIRECT[IT] TO KYNG IAMES THE FYFT.

Prepotent Prince, peirles of pulchritude,
Glore, honour, laude, tryumphe, & victor[i]e
Be to thy heych excellent Celsitude,
With Marciall dedis dyng of memorie.
Sen Atropus consumit haith my glorie,
And dolente deith, allace, mon ws depart,
I leif to the my trew vnfenȝeit hart,

To gydder with this Cedull subsequent,
With moist reuerent Reconmendatioun.
I grant, thy grace gettis mony one document,
Be famous Fatheris predicatioun,
With mony notabyll Narratioun
Be plesande Poetis, in style Heroycall,
Quhov thow suld gyde thy Seait Imperiall.

Sum doith deplore the gret Calamiteis
Off diuers Realmes Transmutatioun;
Sum pieteouslie doith treait of Tragedeis,
All for thy graces Informatioun:
So I intend, but adullatioun,
In to my barbour rusticall indyte,
Amang the reste, schir, sum thyng for to wryte.

Souerane, consaue this simpyll similytude
Off officiaris seruyng thy Senȝeorie:
Quho gydis thame weil gettis of thy grace gret gude;
Quho bene Iniuste degradit ar of glorie,
And cancillat out of thy memorie,
Prouidyng, syne, more plesand in thare place:
Beleue, rycht so sall God do with thy grace.

Considder weill, thow bene bot officiare
And wassall to that kyng Incomparabyll;
Preis thov to pleis that puissant prince preclare,
Thy ryche rewarde salbe Inestimabyll,
Exaultit heych, in glore Interminabyll,
Abone Archangels, virtus, potestatis,
Plesandie placit amang the Principatis.

Off thy vertew Poetis perpetuallie
Sall mak mentioun, vnto the warld be endit:
So thov excers thyne office prudentlie
In heuin and erth thy grace salbe commendit:
Quharefor, afeir that he be nocht offendit,
Quhilk hes exaultit the to sic honour,
Off his peple to be one Gouernour,

And, in the erth, haith maid sic ordinance,
Under thy feit all thyng terrestryall
Ar subiect to thy plesour and pastance:
Boith fowle, and fysche, and bestis pastorall,
Men, to thy seruyce, and wemen, thay bene thrall:
Halkyng, hountyng, armes, and leiffull amour
Preordinat ar, be God, for thy plesour:

Maisteris of Museik, to recreat thy spreit
With dantit voce and plesande Instrument:
Thus may thov be of all plesouris repleit,
So in thyne office thov be deligent.
Bot, be thov found sleuthfull, or negligent,
Or Iniuste in thyne exicutioun,
Thov sall nocht faill deuine puneissioun

Quharefor, sen thov hes sic capacitie
To lerne to playe so plesandlie, and syng,
Ryde hors, ryn speris with gret audacitie,
Schute with hand bow, crosbow, and culueryng,
Amang the rest, schir, lerne to be ane kyng:
Kyith, on that craft, thy pringnant fresche ingyne,
Grantit to the be Influence Diuine.

And, sen the Diffinitioun of ane kyng
Is for to haue of peple gouernance,
Addres the first, abufe all vther thyng,
Tyll put thy bodye tyll sic ordinance,
That thyne vertew thyne honour may auance.
For quhov suld Prencis gouerne gret regionis,
That can nocht dewlie gyde thare awin personis?

And, geue thy grace wald leif rycht plesandlie,
Call thy Counsale, and cast on thame the cure;
Thare Iuste Decretis defend and fortyfie.
But gude counsale may no Prince lang indure:
Wyrk with counsale, than sall thy work be sure.
Cheis thy counsale of the moste Sapient,
Without regarde to blude, ryches, or rent.

Amang all vther pastyme and plesour,
Now, in thy adolescent ȝeris ȝeing,
Wald thov, ilk day, studie, bot half one hour,
The Regiment of princelie gouernyng,
To thy peple it war ane plesand thyng:
Thare mycht thov fynd thyne awin vocatioun,
Quhov thov suld vse thy sceptour, swerd, & croun.

The Cronecklis to knaw I the exhorte,
Quhilk may be myrrour to thy Maiestie:
Thare sall thov fynd boith gude & euyll reporte
Off euerilk Prince, efter his qualytie:
Thocht thay be dede, thare deidis sall nocht dee.
Traist weill, thov salbe stylit, in that storie,
As thov deseruis putt in memorie.

Request that Roye, quhilk rent wes on the rude,
The to defend frome dedis of defame,
That no Poyte reporte of the bot gude:
For princes dayis Induris bot ane drame.
Sen first kyng Fergus bure ane Dyadame,
Thov art the last king, of fyue score and fyue,
And all ar dede, and none bot thov on lyue:

Off quhose number fyftie and fyue bene slane,
And, moist parte, in thare awin mysgouernance.
Quharefor, I the beseik, my Souerane,
Consydder of thare lyuis the circumstance,
And, quhen thov knawis the cause of thare mischance,
Off vertew, than, exault thy salis on hie,
Traistyng to chaip that faitale destanie.

Trait ilk trew Barroun as he war thy brother,
Quhilk mon, at neid, the and thy realme defende:
Quhen, suddantlie, one doith oppresse one vther,
Lat Iustice, myxit with mercy, thame amende.
Haue thov thare hartis, thov hes yneuch to spend:
And, be the contrar, thov arte bot kyng of bone,
Frome tyme thyne hereis hartis bene from the gone.

I haue no laser for to wryt at lenth
Myne hole intent ontyll thyne Excellence,
Decressit so I am in wyt and strenth,
My mortall wounde doith me sic violence.
Peple of me maye haue experience:
Because, allace, I wes Incounsolabyll,
Now mon I dee, on[e] Catyue myserabyll.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE SECUNDE EPISTYL OF THE PAPYNGO, DIRECTIT TO HIR BRETHER OF COURTE.

Brether of court, with mynd precordial,
To the gret god hartlie I commend ȝow.
Imprent my fall in ȝour memoriall,
Togidder with this cedul that I send ȝow.
To preis ouer heych I pray ȝow not pretend ȝow:
The vaine ascens of court quho wyll consydder,
Quho sittith moist hie sal fynd the sait most slidder.

So, ȝe, that now bene lansyng vpe the ledder,
Tak tent in tyme, fassinnyng ȝour fingaris faste.
Quho clymith moist heych moist dynt hes of the woder,
And leist defence aganis the bitter blast
Off fals fortune, quhilk takith neuer rest,
Bot, moste redouttit, daylie scho doun thryngis,
Nocht sparing Papis, Conquerours, nor kyngis.

Thocht ȝe be montit vpe abone the skyis,
And hes boith kyng and court in gouernance,
Sum was als heych, quhilk now rycht lawly lyis,
Complanyng sore the courtis variance.
Thare preterit tyme may be experience,
Quhilk, throuch vaine hope of courte, did clym so hie,
Syne wantit wyngis, quhen thay wend best to flie.

Sen ilke court bene vntraist and transitorie,
Cheangyng als oft as woddercok in wynd,
Sum maikand glaid, and vther sum rycht sorie,
Formaste, this day, the morne may go behyind,
Lat not vaine hope of court ȝour reasone blyind;
Traist weill, sum men wyll gyf ȝov laud, as lordis,
Quhilk wald be glaid to se ȝov hang in cordis.

I durst declare the myserabilitie
Of diuers curtis, war nocht my tyme bene schort;
The dreidfull cheange, vaine glore, and vilitie,
The painfull plesour, as Poetis doith reporte,
Sum tyme in hope, sum tyme in disconforte,
And how sum men dois spend thair ȝouthed haill
In court, syne endis in the hospytaill:

Quhov sum in court bene quyet cou[n]salouris,
Without regarde to commoun weill or kyngis,
Castyng thare cure for to be Conquerouris;
And, quhen thay bene heych rasit in thare ryngis,
How cheange of court tham dulfully doun thringis;
And, quhen thay bene frome thair estait deposit,
Quhov mony of thare fall bene rycht reiosit:

And quhou fonde fenȝeit fulis and flatteraris
For small seruyce optenith gret rewardis;
Pandaris, pykthankis, custronis, and clatteraris
Loupis vp frome laddis, sine lychtis amang lardis;
Blasphematours, beggaris, and commoun bardis
Sum tyme in court hes more auctoritie,
Nor deuote Doctouris in Diuinitie:

Quhov, in some countre, bene barnes of Baliall,
Full of dissimilit payntit flatterrie,
Prouocande, be Intoxicat counsall,
Prences tyll huredome and tyll hasardrie:
Quho dois in Prencis prent sic harlotrie,
I saye for me, sic peirte prouocatouris
Sulde puneist be abufe all strang tratouris.

Quhate trauers, troubyll, and calamitie
Haith bene in courte within thir houndreth ȝeris:
Quhat mortall cheangis, quhat miseritie:
Quhat nobyll men bene brocht vpon thair beris:
Tra[i]st weil, my freinds, follow ȝow mon ȝour feris:
So, sen in court bene no tranquillytie,
Sett nocht on it ȝour hole fielycite.

The courte chea[n]geith, sumtyme, with sic outrage,
That few or none may makyng resistance,
And sparis nocht the prince more than the paige,
As weill apperith be experience.
The Duke of Rothasay mycht mak no defence,
Quhilk wes pertenand Roye of this regioun,
Bot dulefully deuorit in presoun.

Quhat dreid, quhat dolour had that nobyll kyng,
Robart the thride, frome tyme he knew the cace
Off his two Sonnis dolente departyng:
Prince Dauid deyid, and Iames captyue, allace,
Tyll trew Scottis men quhilk wes a cairful cace.
Thus may ȝe knaw, the courte bene variand,
Quhen blude ryall the cheang[e] may not ganestand.

Quho rang in court more hie and tryumphand
Nor Duke Murdoke, quhil that his day indurit?
Was he nocht gret Protectour of Scotland?
Ȝit of the court he was nocht weill assurit.
Itt cheangit so, his lang seruyce wes smurit;
He and his Sonne, fair Walter, but remede,
Forfaltit war, and put to dulefull dede.

Kyng Iames the first, the patroun of prudence,
Gem of Ingyne, and peirll of polycie,
Well of Iustice, and flude of Eloquence,
Quhose vertew doith transcende my fantasie
For tyll discryue, ȝit, quhen he stude moste hie,
Be fals Exhorbitant conspirat[i]oun
That prudent Prince wes pieteouslie put doun.

Als, Iames the secunde, Roye of gret renoun,
Beand in his superexcelland glore,
Throuch reakles schuttyng of one gret cannoun
The dolent deith, allace, did hym deuore.
One thyng thair bene, of quhilk I maruell more,
That Fortune had at hym sic mortall feid,
Throuch fyftie thousand, to waill him by the heid.

My hart is peirst with panes for to pance,
Or wrytt, that courtis variatioun
Off Iames the thrid, quhen he had gouernance;
The dolour, dreid, and desolatioun,
The cheange of court, and conspiratioun;
And quhov that Cochrame, with his companye,
That tyme in courte clam so presumpteouslye.

It had bene gude, tha beirnes had bene vnborne,
Be quhome that nobyll Prince wes so abusit:
Thay grew, as did the weid abufe the corne,
That prudent Lordis counsall wes refusit,
And held hym quyet, as he had bene inclusit.
Allace, that Prince, be thare abusioun,
Was, fynalie, brocht to confusioun.

Thay clam so heych, and gat sic audience,
And with thare Prince grew so familiar,
His Germane brother mycht get no presence;
The Duke of Albanie, nor the Erle of Mar,
Lyke baneist men was haldin at the bar,
Tyll, in the Kyng, thare grew sic mortall feid,
He flemit the Duke and patt the Erle to dede.

Thus, Cochrame with his catyue companye,
Forsit thame to flee; bot ȝit thay wantit fedderis.
Abufe the heych Cederis of Libanye
Thay clam so hie, tyll thay lape ouir thair ledderis;
On lawder bryge syne keppit wer in tedderis,
Stranglit to deith, thay gat none vther grace,
Thair king captyue, quhilk wes ane cairful cace.

Tyl putt in forme that fait Infortunat[e],
And mortall cheange, perturbith myne ingyne.
My wytt bene waik, my fyngaris faitegate,
To dyte, or wryt, the rancour, and rewyne,
The Ciuyll weir, the battell Intestyne;
How that the Sonne, with baner braid displayit,
Agane the Fader, in battell, come arrayit.

Wald god that prince had bene, that day, confortit
With sapience of the prudent Salomone,
And with the strenth of strang Sampsone supportit,
With the bauld oste of gret Agamenone.
Quhat suld I wys, remedie wes thare none:
At morne, ane king with sceptour, sweird, and croun;
Att ewin, ane dede deformit carioun.

Allace, quhare bene that rycht redoutit Roye,
That potent prince, gentyll king Iames the feird?
I pray to Christe his Saule for to conuoye;
Ane greater nobyll rang nocht in to the eird.
O Atropus, warye we maye thy weird,
For he wes myrrour of humylitie,
Lode sterne and lampe of libiralytie.

Duryng his tyme so Iustice did preuaill,
The Sauage Iles trymblit for terrour;
Eskdale, Euisdale, Liddisdale, and Annerdale
Durste nocht rebell, doutyng his dyntis dour,
And of his Lordis had sic perfyte fauour:
So, for to schaw that he aferit no fone,
Out throuch his realme he wald ryde hym alone.

And, of his court, throuch Europe sprang the fame
Off lustie Lordis aud lufesum Ladyis ȝing,
Tryumphand tornayis, iustyng, & knychtly game,
With all pastyme accordyng for one kyng.
He wes the glore of princelie gouernyng,
Quhilk, throuch the ardent lufe he had to france,
Agane Ingland did moue his Ordinance.

Off Flodoun feilde the rewyne to reuolfe,
Or that most dolent daye for tyll deplore,
I nyll, for dreid that dolour ȝow dissolfe,
Schaw how that prince, in his tryumphand glore,
Distroyit was; quhat nedeith proces more?
Nocht be the vertew of Inglis ordina[n]ce,
Bot be his awin wylfull mysgouernance.

Allace, that daye had he bene counsalabyll,
He had obtenit laude, glore, and victorie.
Quhose pieteous proces bene so lamentabyll,
I nyll at lenth it put in memorie.
I neuer red, in Tragidie nor storie,
At one Iornaye so mony nobyllis slane,
For the defence and lufe of thare Souerane.

Now, brether, marke, in ȝour rememb[e]rance,
Ane Myrrour of those mutabiliteis:
So may ȝe knaw the courtis inconstance,
Quhen prencis bene thus pullit frome thair seis.
Efter quhose deith quhat strainge aduersiteis,
Quhat gret mysreule, in to this regioun rang,
Quhen our ȝong prince could noder spek nor gang.

During his tender ȝouthe and innocence,
Quhat stouith, quhat raif, quhat murthur, & myschance.
Thair wes not ellis bot wrakyng of vengeance,
In to that court thare rang sic variance.
Diuers rewlaris maid diuers ordinance:
Sum tyme our Quene rang in auctoritie,
Sum tyme, the prudent Duke of Albanie.

Sum tyme the realme was reulit be regentis,
Sum tyme, Lufetenentis, ledaris of the law.
Than rang so mony Inobedientis,
That few or none stude of ane vther aw.
Oppressioun did so lowde his bugyll blaw,
That none durst ryde bot in to feir of weir:
Ioke vponeland, that tyme, did mys his meir.

Quho was more heycht in honour eleuate,
Nor was Margareit, our heych & mychtie princes?
Sic power was to hir appropriate,
Off king and realme scho wes gouernores.
Ȝit come one cheange, within ane schorte proces;
That peirle preclare, that lusty plesand quene,
Lang tyme durst nocht in to the court be sene.

The Archebischop of sanctandrus, Iames Betoun,
Chancellare, and primate in power pastorall,
Clam, nyxt the kyng, moste heych in this regioun.
The ledder schuke, he lape, and gat one fall.
Auctoritie, nor power spirituall,
Ryches, freindschip mycht not, that tyme, preuail,
Quhen dame Curia began to steir hir taill.

His heych prudence preualit hym nocht ane myte,
That tyme the courte bair hym sic mortall feid.
As presoneir thay keipt hym, in dispyte;
And, sum tyme, wyst not quhare to hyde his heid,
Bot, dissagysit lyke Ihone the raif, he raid.
Had nocht bene hope bair hym sic companye,
He had bene stranglit be malancolye.

Quhat cummer & cair wes in the court of france,
Quhen kyng francose wes takin presoneir.
The Duke of Burboun, amyd his ordinance,
Deit at ane straik, rycht bailfull brocht on beir.
The court of Rome, that tyme, rane all aureir,
Quhen Pape Clement wes put in strang presoun,
The nobyll Citie put to confusioun.

In Ingland, quho had greter gouernance
Nor thare tryumphand courtly Cardinall?
The commoun weill, sum sayis, he did auance
Be equale Iustice, boith to gret and small;
Thare wes no Prelate to hym paregall.
Inglismen sayis, had he roung langer space
He had deposit Sanct Peter of his place.

His princely pompe, nor Papale grauitie,
His palyce ryall, ryche, and radious,
Nor, ȝit, the flude of Superfluitie
Off his ryches, nor trauell tedious,
Frome tyme dame Curia held hym odious,
Preualit hym not, nor prudence moste profound:
The ledder braik, and he fell to the ground.

Quhare bene the douchty Erlis of Dowglas,
Quhilkis ryallie in to this regioun rang?
Forfalt and slane; quhat nedith more proces?
The Erle of Marche wes merschellit tham amang,
Dame Curia thame dulefullie doun thrang;
And, now of lait, quho clam more heych, amang vs,
Nor did Archebalde, Umquhyle the Erle of Angous?

Quho with his Prince wes more familiar,
Nor of his grace had more auctoritie?
Was he nocht gret Wardane and chancellar?
Ȝit, quhen he stude vpon the heychest gre,
Traistyng no thyng bot perpetuitie,
Was suddanlie deposit frome his place,
Forfalt, and flemit: he gat non vther grace.

Quharefor traist nocht in tyll auctoritie,
My deir brother, I praye ȝow hartfullie:
Presume nocht in ȝour vaine prosperitie;
Conforme ȝour traist in God alluterlie;
Syne, serue ȝour Prince, with enteir hart, trewlie;
And, quhen ȝe se the court bene at the best,
I counsall ȝow, than draw ȝow to ȝour rest.

Quhare bene the heych tryumphant court of troye?
Or Alexander, with his twelf prudent peris?
Or Iulius, that rycht redoutit Roye?
Agamenone, moste worthy in his weris?
To schaw thare fyne my frayit hart aferis.
Sum murdreist war; sum, poysonit pieteouslie;
Thare cairfull courtis dispersit dulefullie.

Traist weill, thare is no constant court bot one,
Quhar Christ bene king, quhose tyme interminabyll
And heych tryumphant glore beis neuir gone.
That quyet court, myrthfull and Immutabyll,
But variance, standith aye ferme and stabyll.
Dissimilance, flattry, nor fals reporte
In to that court sall neuer get resorte.

Traist weill, my freindis, this is no fenȝeit fare:
For quho that bene in the extreme of dede,
The veritie, but doute, thay sulde declare,
Without regarde to fauour or to fede.
Quhill ȝe haue tyme, deir brother, mak remede.
Adew for euer, of me ȝe get no more,
Beseikand God to bryng ȝow to his glore.

Adew, Edinburgh, thow heych tryumphant toun,
Within quhose boundis rycht blythfull haue I bene,
Off trew merchandis the rute of this regioun,
Moste reddy to resaue court, king, and Quene.
Thy polecye and Iustice may be sene:
War deuotioun, wysedome, and honestie,
And credence tynt, thay mycht be found in the.

Adew, fair Snawdoun, with thy touris hie,
Thy Chapell royall, Park, and tabyll rounde.
May, Iune, and Iuly walde I dwell in the
War I one man, to heir the birdis sounde,
Quhilk doith agane thy royall roche redounde.
Adew, Lythquo; quhose palyce of plesance
Mycht be one patrone in Portingall or France.

Fair weill, Falkland, the fort[e]race of fyfe;
Thy polyte Park, vnder the lowmound law,
Sum tyme in the I led ane lustye lyfe;
The fallow deir, to see thame raik on rawe.
Courte men to cum to the, thay stand gret awe,
Say[a]nd, thy burgh bene, of all burrowis, baill,
Because in the thay neuer gat gude aill.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE COMMONYNG BETUIX THE PAPINGO, AND HIR HOLYE EXECUTOURIS.

The Pye persauit the papingo in paine.
He lychtit doun, and fenȝeit him to greit.
Sister, said he, alace, quho hes ȝow slane?
I pray ȝow, mak prouisione for ȝour spreit;
Dispone ȝour geir, and ȝow confes compleit.
I haue power, be ȝour contritioun,
Off all ȝour mys to geue ȝow full remissioun.

I am (said he) one Channoun regulare,
And, of my brether Pryour principall.
My quhyte rocket my clene lyfe doith declare;
The blak bene of the deith memoriall.
Quharefor I thynk ȝour gudis naturall
Sulde be submyttit hole in to my cure:
Ȝe knaw, I am ane holye Creature.

The Reuin come rolpand quhen he hard the rair,
So did the Gled, with mony pieteous pew,
And fenȝeitlye thay contrafait gret cair.
Syster (said thay) ȝour raklesnes we rew;
Now best it is our Iuste counsall ensew,
Sen we pretend to heych promotioun,
Religious men, of gret deuotioun.

I am ane blak Monk, said the ruclande reuin.
So said the gled, I am ane holy freir,
And hes power to bring ȝow quyke to heuin.
It is weill knawin, my conscience bene full cleir;
The blak Bybill pronunce I sall perqueir.
So tyll our brether ȝe wyll geue sum gude;
God wat geue we hes neid of lyues fude.

The Papyngo said: father, be the rude,
Howbeit ȝour rayment be religious lyke,
Ȝour conscience, I suspect, be nocht gude.
I did persaue, quhen preuelye ȝe did pyke
Ane chekin frome ane hen, vnder ane dyke.
I grant, said he; that hen was my gude freind,
And I that chekin tuke, bot for my teind.

Ȝe knawe the faith be ws mon be susteind:
So be the Pope it is preordinate,
That spirituall men suld leue vpon thair teind:
Bot, weill wat I, ȝe bene predestinate,
In ȝour extreme, to be so fortunate,
To haue sic holy consultatioun.
Quharefore we mak ȝow exhortatioun,

Sen dame Nature hes grantit ȝow sic grace
Layser to mak co[n]fessioun generall,
Schaw furth ȝour syn in haist, quhil ȝe haif space:
Syne, of ȝour geir mak one memoriall.
We thre sall mak ȝour festis funerall,
And, with gret blys, bury we sall ȝour bonis,
Syne trentalls twenty trattyll all at onis.

The reukis sall rair, that men sall on thame rew,
And crye Conmemoratio Animarum.
We sall gar cheknis cheip, and geaslyngis pew,
Suppose the geis and hennis sulde crye alarum.
And we sall serue Secundum Vsum Sarum,
And mak ȝow saif: we fynd sanct Blase to borgh,
Cryand for ȝow the cairfull corrynogh.

And we sall syng, about ȝour sepulture,
Sanct Mongois matynis, and the mekle creid,
And, syne, deuotely saye, I ȝow assure,
The auld Placebo bakwart, and the beid.
And we sall weir for ȝow the murnyng weid,
And, thocht ȝour spreit with Pluto war profest,
Deuotelie sall ȝour derigie be addrest.

Father (said scho) ȝour facunde wordis fair,
Full sore I dreid, be contrar to ȝour dedis.
The wyffis of the village cryis, with cair,
Quhen thai persaue ȝour muow ouirthort thar medis:
Ȝour fals consait boith duke & draik sore dreidis.
I maruell, suithlie, ȝe be nocht eschamit
For ȝour defaltis, beyng so defamit.

It dois abhor my pure perturbit spreit
Tyll mak to ȝow ony confessioun.
I heir men saye, ȝe bene one Ypocrite,
Exemptit frome the senȝe and the sessioun.
To put my geir in ȝour possessioun,
That wyll I nocht, so help me dame nature,
Nor of my corps I wyll ȝow geue no cure.

Bot, had I heir the nobyll Nychtingall,
The gentyll Ia, the Merle, and Turtur trew,
My Obsequees and feistis funerall
Ordour thay wald, with notis of the new.
The plesand Pown, most angellyke of hew,
Wald god I wer, this daye, with hym confest,
And my deuyse dewlie be hym addrest.

The myrthfull Maueis, with the gay goldspink,
The lustye Larke, wald god thay war present.
My infortune, forsuith, thay wald forthink,
And conforte me, that bene so Impotent.
The swyft Swallow, in prattick most prudent,
I wate scho wald my bledyng stem, belyue,
With hir moste verteous stone restringityue.

Compt me the cace, vnder confessioun,
The Gled said, proudlye, to the Papingo,
And we sall sweir, be our professioun,
Counsall to keip, and schaw it to no mo.
We the beseik, or thow depart ws fro,
Declare to ws sum causis reasonabyll,
Quhy we bene haldin so abhominabyll.

Be thy trauell thow hes Experience,
First beand bred in to the Orient,
Syne, be thy gude seruyce and delygence
To Prencis maid heir in the Occident:
Thow knawis the vulgare pepyllis Iugement,
Quhare thow transcurrit the hote Meridionall,
Syne, nyxt the Poill, the plage Septemtrionall:

So, be thyne heych ingyne superlatyue,
Off all countreis thow knawis the qualiteis,
Quharefore I the coniure, be God of lyue,
The veritie declare, withouttin leis,
Quhat thow hes hard, be landis, or be seis,
Off ws Kirkmen, boith gude and euyll reporte,
And quhov thay Iuge, schaw ws, we the exhorte.

Father, said scho, I, catyue Creature,
Dar nocht presume with sic mater to mell.
Off ȝour caces, ȝe knaw, I haue no cure:
Demand thame quhilk in prudence doith precell.
I maye nocht pew, my panes bene so fell,
And, als, perchance, ȝe wyll nocht stand content
To knaw the vulgare pepyllis Iugement.

Ȝit, wyll the deith alyte withdrawe his darte,
All that lyis in my Memoryall
I sall declare, with trew vnfenȝeit hart;
And first I saye to ȝow, in generall,
The commoun peple sayith ȝe bene all
Degenerit frome ȝour holy prematyuis,
As testyfeis the proces of ȝour lyuis.

Off ȝour peirles, prudent predicessouris
The beginnyng, I grant, wes verray gude.
Apostolis, Martyres, Uirgines, Confessouris,
The sound of thair excellent Sanctitude
Was hard ouer all the warld; be land and flude
Plantyng the faith be Predicatioun,
As Christe had maid to thame Narratioun.

To fortyfie the faith thay tuke no feir,
Afore Prencis precheing full prudentlie;
Of dolorus deith thay doutit nocht the deir,
The veritie declaryng feruentlie;
And Martyrdome thay sufferit pacientlie.
Thay tuke no cure of land, ryches, nor rent:
Doctryne and deid war boith equeuolent.

To schaw at lenth thair workis wer gret wounder;
Thare myracklis thay wer so manifest;
In name of Christe thay halit mony hounder,
Rasyng the dede, and purgeing the possest,
With peruerst spretis quhilks had bene opprest.
The crukit ran, the blynd men gat thare Ene,
The deiff men hard, the lypper war maid clene.

The Prelatis spowsit wer with pouertie,
Those dayis quhen so thay flurisit in fame;
And with hir generit Lady Chaistitie,
And dame Deuotioun, notabyll of name:
Humyll thay war, simpyll, and full of schame.
Thus, Chaistitie and dame Deuotioun
War principall cause of thare promotioun.

Thus thay contynewit, in this lyfe deuyne,
Aye tyll thare rang, in Romes gret Cietie,
Ane potent Prince was namit Constantyne,
Persauit the kirk had spowsit pouertie.
With gude intent, and mouit of pietie,
Cause of Diuors he fande betuix thame two,
And partit thame, withouttin wordis mo.

Syne, schortlie, with ane gret solempnitie,
Withouttin ony Dispensatioun
The kirk he spowsit with dame Propirtie,
Quhilk haistayle, be procliamatioun,
To pouertie gart mak narratioun,
Under the pane of peirsyng of hir eine,
That with the kirk scho sulde no more be seine.

Sanct Syluester, that tyme, rang Pope in rome,
Quhilk first consentit to the mariage
Off propirtie, the quhilk began to blome,
Taking on hir the cure, with heych corrage.
Deuotioun drew hir tyll one heremytage,
Quhen scho considerit lady propirtie,
So heych exaultit in to dignitie.

O Syluester, quhare was thy discretioun?
Quhilk Peter did renounc[e] thow did resaue.
Androw and Ihone did leif thare possessioun,
Thar schippis, & nettis, lyinnes, and all the laue.
Off temporall substance no thing wald thay haue,
Contrarius to thare contemplatioun,
Bot, soberlye, thare sustentatioun.

Ihone the Baptist went to the wyldernes;
Lazarus, Martha, and marie Magdalane
Left heretage and guddis, more and les;
Prudent Sanct Paule thocht propertie prophane;
Frome toun to toun he ran, in wynde and rane,
Upon his feit, techeing the word of grace,
And neuer was subiectit to ryches.

The gled said: ȝit I heir no thyng bot gude.
Proceid schortlye, and thy mater auance.
The Papyngo said: father, be the rude,
It wer to lang to schaw the circumstance,
Quhow propertie, with hir new alyance,
Grew gret with chylde, as trew men to me talde,
And bure two dochteris, gudlie to behalde.

The eldest Dochter named was ryches,
The secunde Syster, Sensualytie;
Quhilks did incres, within one schorte proces,
Preplesande to the Spiritualytie,
In gret substance and excellent bewtie.
Thir Ladyis two grew so, within few ȝeris,
That in the warld wer non mycht be thare peris.

This royall Ryches and Lady Sensuall
Frome that tyme furth tuke hole the gouernance
Off the moste part of the stait spirituall,
And thay, agane, with humyll obseruance,
Amorouslie thare wyttis did auance,
As trew luffaris thare ladyis for to pleis:
God wate geue, than, thare hartis war at Eis.

Soune thay forȝet to study, praye, and preche;
Thay grew so subiect to dame sensuall
And thocht bot paine pure pepyll for to teche.
Ȝit thay decretit, in thare gret counsall,
Thay wald no more to mariage be thrall,
Traistyng surely tyll obserue Chaistytie;
And all begylit, quod Sensualytie.

Apperandlye, thay did expell thare Wyffis,
That thay mycht leif at large, without thirlage,
At libertie to lede thare lustie lyffis,
Thynkand men thrall, that bene in mariage:
For new faces prouokis new corrage.
Thus, Chaistytie thay turne in to delyte:
Wantyng of Wyffis bene cause of appetyte.

Dame Chaistitie did steill away for schame,
Frome tyme scho did persaue thare prouiance.
Dame Sensuall one letter gart proclame,
And hir exilit Italy and France:
In Inglande couthe scho get none ordinance:
Than to the Kyng and courte of Scotlande
Scho markit hir, withouttin more demande.

Traistyng in to that court to get conforte,
Scho maid hir humyll supplycatioun.
Schortlye, thay said, scho sulde get na supporte,
Bot bostit hir with blasphematioun:
To preistis go mak ȝour protestatioun.
It is, said thay, mony one houndreth ȝeir
Sen Chaistitie had ony entres heir.

Tyrit for trauell, scho to the preistis past,
And to the rewlaris of religioun.
Off hir presens schortlye thay war agast,
Sayand, thay thocht it bot abusioun
Hir to resaue: so, with conclusioun,
With one auyce, decretit, and gaue dome,
Thay walde resset no Rebell out of Rome.

Sulde we rasaue that Romanis hes refusit,
And baneist Inglande, Italye, and France,
For ȝour flattrye, than wer we weill abusit.
Pass hyne, said thay, and fast ȝour waye auance.
Amang the Nonnis go seik ȝour ordinance;
For we haue maid aith of fidelytie
To dame Ryches and Sensualytie.

Than paciently scho maid progressioun
Towarde the Nonnis, with hart syching ful sore.
Thay gaif hir presens, with processioun,
Ressauand hir with honour, laud, and glore,
Purposyng to preserue hir euer more.
Off that nouellis come to dame Propertie,
To Ryches, and to Sensualytie,

Quhilks sped thame at the post, rycht spedalye,
And sett ane seage, proudlye, about the place.
The sillye Nonnis did ȝeild thame haistelye,
And humilye of that gylt askit grace,
Syne gaue thair bandis of perpetuall peace.
Ressauand thame, thay kest vp wykketis wyde:
Than Chaistytie walde no langer abyde.

SO, for refuge, fast to the freris scho fled,
Quhilks said, thay wald of ladyis tak no cure.
Quhare bene scho now? than said the gredy gled.
Nocht amang ȝow, said scho, I ȝow assure.
I traist scho bene vpon the borrow mure,
Besouth Edinburgh, and that rycht mony menis,
Profest amang the Systeris of the schenis.

Thare hes scho found hir mother Pouertie,
And Deuotioun, hir awin syster carnall.
Thare hes scho found faith, hope, and charitie,
Togidder with the verteous Cardinall.
Thare hes scho found ane Conuent ȝit vnthrall
To dame Sensuall, nor with ryches abusit,
So quietlye those ladyis bene Inclusit.

The Pyote said: I dreid, be thay assailȝeit,
Thay rander thame, as did the holy Nonnis.
Doute nocht, said scho: for thay bene so artalȝeit,
Thay purpose to defend thame with thair gounnis.
Reddy to schute, thay haue sax gret Cannounnis,
Perseuerance, Constance, and Conscience,
Austerytie, Laubour, and Abstynance.

To resyste subtell Sensualytie,
Strongly thay bene enarmit, feit and handis,
Be abstynence, and keipith pouertie,
Contrar ryches and all hir fals seruandis.
Thay haue ane Boumbard, braissit vp in bandis,
To keip thare porte, in myddis of thare clois,
Quhilk is callit Domine custodi nos,

Within quhose schote thare dar no Enimeis
Approche thare place, for dreid of dyntis doure.
Boith nycht and daye thay wyrk, lyke besye beis,
For thare defence, reddye to stand in stoure,
And hes sic watcheis on thare vtter toure,
That dame Sensual with seage dar not assailȝe,
Nor cum within the schote of thare artailȝe.

The Pyote said: quhareto suld thay presume
For to resyste sweite Sensualytie,
Or dame ryches, quhilkis reularis bene in Rome?
Ar thay more constant, in thare qualytie,
Nor the prencis of Spiritualytie,
Quhilkis plesandlye, withouttin obstaikle,
Haith thame resauit in thare habitakle?

Quhow lang, traist ȝe, those ladyis sall remane
So solyter, in sic perfectioun?
The Papingo said: brother, in certane,
So lang as thay obey correctioun,
Cheisyng thare heddis be electioun,
Unthrall to ryches, or to pouertie,
Bot as requyrith thare necessitie.

O prudent prelatis, quhare was ȝour prescianis,
That tuke on hand tyll obserue Chaistytie,
But austeir lyfe, laubour, and abstenance?
Persauit ȝe nocht the gret prosperitie
Apperandlye to cum of propertie?
Ȝe knaw gret cheir, gret eais, and Ydelnes
To Lychorie was mother and maistres.

Thow rauis vnrockit, the rauin said, be the rude,
So to reproue ryches or propertie.
Abraham and Ysaac war ryche, and verry gude;
Iacobe and Iosephe had prosperitie.
The Papingo said: that is verytie.
Ryches, I grant, is nocht to be refusit,
Prouidyng, alwaye, it be nocht abusit.

Than said the Rauin one replycatioun,
Syne said; thy reasone is nocht worth ane myte,
As I sall preue, with protestatioun,
That no man tak my wordis in dispyte:
I saye, the temporall Prencis hes the wyte,
That in the kirk sic Pastours dois prouyde,
To gouerne saulis that not tham selfis can gyde.

Lang tyme efter the kirk tuke propertie,
The Prelatis leuit in gret perfectioun,
Unthrall to Ryches or Sensualytie,
Under the holy Spreitis protectioun,
Orderlye chosin be electioun,
As Gregore, Ierome, Ambrose, and Augustyne,
Benedic, Barnerd, Clement, Cleit, and Lyne.

Sic pacient Prelatis enterit be the porte,
Plesand the peple be predicatioun.
Now dyke lowparis dois in the kirk resort,
Be Symonie and supplycatioun
Off Prencis be thare presentatioun.
So sillye Saulis, that bene Christis scheip,
Ar geuin to hungre gormande wolfis to keip.

No maruell is, thocht we Religious men
Degenerit be, and in our lyfe confusit:
Bot sing and drynk, none vther craft we ken,
Our Spirituall Fatheris hes ws so abusit:
Agane our wyll, those treukouris bene intrusit.
Lawit men hes, now, religious men in curis;
Profest Uirgenis, in keipyng of strong huris.

Prencis, prencis, quhar bene ȝour heych prudence
In dispositioun of ȝour Beneficeis?
The guerdonyng of ȝour Courticience
Is sum cause of thir gret Enormyteis.
Thare is one sorte, watand, lyke houngre fleis,
For spirituall cure, thocht thay be no thing abyll,
Quhose gredie thristis bene Insaciabyll.

Prencis, I pray ȝow, be no more abusit,
To verteous men hauyng so small regarde.
Quhy sulde vertew, throuch flattrye, be refusit,
That men, for cunnyng, can get no rewarde?
Allace, that euer one braggar, or ane barde,
Ane hure maister, or commoun hasarture,
Sulde in the kirk get ony kynde of cure.

War I one man worthy to weir ane croun,
Aye quhen thare vakit ony beneficeis,
I suld gar call ane Congregatioun,
The principall of all the preliceis,
Moste counnyng clerkis of Uniuersiteis,
Moste famous fatheris of religioun,
With thare aduyse, mak dispositioun.

I sulde dispone all offices Pastorallis
Tyll Doctours of deuynitie, or Iure,
And cause dame Uertew pull vp all hir salis,
Quhen counnyng men had in the kirk moist cure;
Gar Lordis send thare sonnes, I ȝow assure,
To seik science, and famous sculis frequent;
Syne, thame promoue that war moste sapient.

Gret plesour war to heir ane Byschope preche,
One Dane, or Doctour in Diuinitie,
One Abbote quhilk could weill his conuent teche,
One Persoun flowyng in Phylosophie.
I tyne my tyme, to wys quhilk wyll nocht be.
War nocht the precheing of the beggyng freris,
Tynt war the faith amang the Seculeris.

As for thare precheing, quod the Papingo,
I thame excuse: for quhy? thay bene so thrall
To Propertie and hir ding Dochteris two,
Dame Ryches and fair lady Sensuall,
Thay may nocht vse no pastyme spirituall;
And in thare habitis thay tak sic delyte,
Thay haue renuncit russat and roploch quhyte.

Cleikand to thame skarlote and Crammosie,
With Meneuer, martrik, grice, & ryche armyne,
Thare lawe hartis exaultit ar so hie,
To see thare Papale pompe it is ane pyne.
More ryche arraye is, now, with frenȝeis fyne,
Upon the bardyng of ane Byscheopis Mule,
Nor euer had Paule or Peter agane ȝule.

Syne, fair ladyis thare Chene may not eschape,
Dame Sensuall so sic seid haith in tham sawin.
Les skaith it war, with lycence of the Pape,
That ilke Prelate one Wyfe had of his awin,
Nor se thar bastardis ouirthort the cuntre blawin:
For, now, be thay be weill cumin frome the sculis,
Thay fall to work, as thay war commoun bullis.

Pew, quod the gled, thow prechis all in vaine:
Ȝe Seculare folks hes of our cace no curis.
I grant, said scho: ȝit men wyll speik, agane,
Quhow ȝe haif maid a hundreth thousand huris,
Quhilkis neuir hade bene, war not ȝour lychorus luris:
And, geue I lee, hartlye I me repent;
Was neuer Bird, I watt, more penitent.

Than scho hir schraue, with deuote contynance,
To that fals gled, quhilk fenȝeit hym one freir;
And, quhen scho had fulfyllit hir pennance,
Full subtellye at hir he gan inqueir.
Cheis ȝow, said he, quhilk of ws brether heir
Sall haue of all ȝour naturall geir the curis:
Ȝe knaw none bene more holye creaturis.

I am content, quod the pure Papingo,
That ȝe, freir Gled, and corby monk, ȝour brother,
Haue cure of all my guddis, and no mo,
Sen, at this tyme, freindschip I fynd non vther.
We salbe to ȝow trew, as tyll our Mother,
Quod thay, and sweir tyll fulfyll hir intent.
Off that, said scho, I tak ane Instrument.

The Pyote said: quhat sall myne office bee?
Ouirman, said scho, vnto the tother two.
The rowpand Reuin said: sweit syster, lat se
Ȝour hole intent; for it is tyme to go.
The gredie gled said: brother, do nocht so.
We wyll remane, and haldin vp hir hede,
And neuer depart frome hir, tyll scho be dede.

The Papingo thame thankit tenderlye,
And said: sen ȝe haue tane on ȝow this cure,
Depart myne naturall guddis, equalye,
That euer I had, or hes, of dame Nature.
First, to the Howlet, Indegent and pure,
Quhilk on the daye, for schame, dar nocht be sene,
Tyll hir I laif my gaye galbarte of grene.

My brycht depurit Ene, as christall cleir,
On to the Bak ȝe sall thame boith present,
In Phebus presens quhilk dar nocht appeir,
Off naturall sycht scho bene so Impotent.
My birneist beik I laif, with gude entent,
Onto the gentyll, pieteous Pillycane,
To helpe to peirs hir tender hart in twane.

I laif the Goik, quhilk hes no sang bot one,
My musyke, with my voce Angelycall.
And, to the Guse, ȝe geue, quhen I am gone,
My Eloquence and toung Rethoricall:
And tak and drye my bones, gret and small;
Syne, close thame in one cais of Ebure fyne,
And thame present onto the Phenix, syne,

To birne with hir, quhen scho hir lyfe renewis.
In Arabye ȝe sall hir fynde, but weir,
And sall knaw hir be hir moste heuinly hewis,
Gold, Asure, Gowles, Purpour, and Synopeir:
Hir dait is for to leif fyue houndreth ȝeir:
Mak to that bird my commendatioun.
And, als, I mak ȝow supplycatioun,

Sen of my corps I haue ȝow geuin the cure,
Ȝe speid ȝow to the court, but tareyng,
And tak my hart, of perfyte portrature,
And it present onto my Souerane Kyng:
I wat he wyll it clois in to one ryng.
Commande me to his grace, I ȝow exhorte,
And of my passioun mak hym trew reporte.

Ȝe thre my trypes sall haue, for ȝour trauell,
With luffer and lowng, to part equale amang ȝow,
Prayand Pluto, the potent prince of hell,
Geue ȝe failȝe, that in his seit he fang ȝow.
Be to me trew, thocht I no thyng belang ȝow:
Sore I suspect, ȝour conscience be to large.
Doute nocht, said thay: we tak it with the charge.

Adew, brether, quod the pure Papingo:
To talking more I haue no tyme to tarye;
Bot, sen my spreit mon fra my body go,
I recommend it to the quene of farye,
Eternallye in tyll hir court to carye,
In wyldernes, among the holtis hore.
Than scho inclynit hir hed, and spak no more.

Plungit in tyll hir mortall passioun,
Full greuouslie scho gryppit to the ground.
It war to lang to mak narratioun
Off sychis sore, with mony stang and stound.
Out of hir wound the blude did so abound,
One coumpas round was with hir blude maid reid:
Without remaid, thare wes no thyng bot dede.

And, be scho had In Manus tuas said,
Extinctit wer hir naturall wyttis fyue.
Hir hed full softlye on hir schulder laid,
Syne ȝaild the spreit, with panes pungityue.
The Rauin began rudely to ruge and ryue,
Full gormondlyke his emptie throte to feid.
Eait softlye, brother, said the gredy gled:

Quhill scho is hote, depart hir ewin amang ws.
Tak thow one half, and reik to me ane vther:
In tyll our rycht, I wat, no wycht dar wrang ws.
The Pyote said: the feinde resaue the fouther.
Quhy mak ȝe me stepbarne, and I ȝour brother?
Ȝe do me wrang, schir gled; I schrew ȝour harte.
Tak thare, said he, the puddyngis, for thy parte.

Than, wyt ȝe weill, my hart wos wounder sair,
For to behalde that dolent departyng,
Hir Angell fedderis fleyng in the air:
Except the hart, was left of hir no thyng.
The Pyote said: this pertenith to the kyng,
Quhilk tyll his grace I purpose to present.
Thow, quod the gled, sall faill of thyne entent.

The Rauin said: god, nor I rax in ane raipe,
And thow get this tyll other kyng or duke.
The Pyote said: plene I nocht to the pape,
Than in ane smedie I be smorit with smuke.
With that the gled the pece claucht in his cluke,
And fled his way: the laue, with all thare mycht,
To cheace the gled, flew, all, out of my sycht.

Now haue ȝe hard this lytill Tragedie,
The sore complent, the testament, & myschance
Off this pure Bird, quhilk did ascend so hie.
Beseikand ȝow, excuse myne Ignorance,
And rude indyte, quhilk is nocht tyll auance.
And, to the, quair, I geue commandiment,
Mak no repair quhare Poetis bene present:

Because thow bene but Rethorike so rude,
Be neuer sene besyde none other buke,
With Kyng, nor Quene, with Lord, nor man of gude.
With coit vnclene, clame kynrent to sum cuke:
Steil in ane nuke, quhen thay lyste on the luke.
For smell of smuke men wyll abhor to beir the;
Heir I mansweir the; quhairfor, to lurke go leir the.

FINIS.

THE COMPLAINT AND PUBLICT CONFESSIOUN OF THE KINGIS AULD HOUND, CALLIT BAGSCHE, DIRECTIT TO BAWTE, THE KINGIS BEST BELOUIT DOG, AND HIS COMPANȜEONIS. MAID AT COMMAND OF KING IAMES THE FYFT, BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT KNYCHT, alias, LYOUN KING OF ARMES. &C.

Allace, quhome to suld I complayne
In my extreme Necessitie?
Or quhameto sall I mak my maine?
In Court na Dog wyll do for me.
Beseikand sum, for Cherite,
To beir my Supplicatioun,
To Scudlar, Luffra, and Bawte,
Now or the king pas of the toun.

I haue followit the Court so lang,
Quhill in gude faith I may no mair:
The Countre knawis I may nocht gang.
I am so crukit, auld, and sair,
That I wait nocht quhare to repair:
For quhen I had authorite,
I thocht me so familiar,
I neuer dred necessite.

I rew the race that Geordie Steill
Brocht Bawte to the kingis presence:
I pray God lat hym neuer do weill,
Sen syne I gat na audience.

For Bawte now gettis sic credence,
That he lyis on the Kingis nycht goun,
Quhare I perforce, for my offence,
Man in the clois ly lyke ane loun.

For I haif bene, ay to this hour,
Ane wirrear of lamb and hog;
Ane tyrrane, and ane Tulȝeour,
Ane murdreissar of mony ane dog.
Fyue foullis I chaist outthroch ane scrog,
Quharefor thare motheris did me warie;
For thay war drownit all in ane bog:
Speir at Ihone Gordoun of Pittarie,

Quhilk in his hous did bryng me vp,
And vsit me to slay the deir;
Sweit milk and meill he gart me sup:
That craft I leirnit sone perqueir.
All vther vertew ran arreir,
Quhen I began to bark and flyte;
For thare was nother Monk nor freir.
Nor wyfe nor barne, but I wald byte.

Quhen to the King the cace was knawin
Of my vnhappy hardines,
And all the suth unto hym schawin,
How euerilk dog I did oppres,
Then gaue his grace command expres,
I suld be brocht to his presence.
Nochtwithstanding my wickitnes,
In Court I gat greit audience.

I shew my greit Ingratitude
To the Capitane of Badȝeno,
Quhilk in his hous did find me fude
Two ȝeir, with vther houndis mo.

Bot quhen I saw that it was so,
That I grew hich into the Court,
For his reward I wrocht hym wo,
And cruellie I did hym hurt.

So thay that gaue me to the King,
I was thare mortall Enemie.
I tuke cure of na kynd of thing,
Bot pleis the Kingis Maiestie.
Bot quhen he knew my crueltie,
My falset and my plane oppressioun,
He gaue command that I suld be
Hangit without confessioun.

And ȝit because that I was auld,
His grace thocht petie for to hang me,
Bot leit me wander quhare I wald,
Than set my fais for to fang me,
And euery bouchour dog doun dang me.
Quhen I trowit best to be ane laird,
Than in the court ilk wicht did wrang me,
And this I gat for my rewaird.

I had wirreit blak Makesoun,
Wer nocht that rebaldis come and red;
Bot he was flemit of the toun.
Frome tyme the King saw how I bled,
He gart lay me vpon ane bed,
For with ane knife I was mischeuit.
This Makesoun for feir he fled
Ane lang tyme or he was releuit.

And Patrik Striuiling in Ergyle,
I bure hym bakwart to the ground,
And had hym slane within ane quhyle,
War nocht the helping of ane hound.

Ȝit gat he mony bludie wound,
As ȝit his skyn wyll schaw the markis.
Find me ane Dog, quhare euer ȝe found,
Hes maid sa mony bludie sarkis.

Gude brother Lanceman, Lyndesayis dog,
Quhilk ay hes keipit thy laute,
And neuer wirryit lamb nor hog,
Pray Luffra, Scudlar, and Baute,
Of me, Bagsche, to haue pitie,
And prouide me ane portioun
In Dumfermeling, quhare I may dre
Pennance for my extortioun.

Get be thare Solistatioun,
Ane letter frome the Kingis grace,
That I may haue Collatioun,
With fyre and Candil in the place.
Bot I wyll leif schort tyme, allace,
Want I gude fresche flesche for my gammis:
Betuix Aswednisday and Paice,
I man haue leue to wirrie Lambis.

Baute, considder well this bill,
And reid this Cedull that I send ȝow,
And euerilk poynt thareof fulfill,
And now in tyme of mys amend ȝow.
I pray ȝow that ȝe nocht pretend ȝow
To clym ouer hie, nor do na wrang,
Bot frome ȝour fais, with richt defend ȝow,
And tak exemple quhow I gang.

I was that na man durst cum neir me,
Nor put me furth of my lugeing:
Na dog durst fra my Denner sker me
Quhen I was tender with the king.

Now euerilk tyke dois me doun thring,
The quhilk, before, be me war wrangit,
And sweris I serue na vther thing,
Bot in ane helter to be hangit.

Thocht ȝe be hamelie with the King,
Ȝe Luffra, Scudlar, and Bawte,
Be war that ȝe do nocht doun thring
Ȝour nychtbouris throw authorite.
And ȝour exemple mak be me,
And beleif weill ȝe ar bot doggis:
Thocht ȝe stand in the hiest gre,
Se ȝe byte nother lambs nor hoggis.

Thocht ȝe haue now greit audience,
Se that be ȝow be nane opprest;
Ȝe wylbe punischit for ȝour offence,
Frome tyme the King be weill confest.
Thare is na dog that hes transgrest
Throw cruelte, and he may fang hym,
His Maieste wyll tak no rest,
Tyll on ane gallous he gar hang hym.

I was anis als far ben as ȝe ar,
And had in Court als greit credence,
And ay pretendit to be hiear,
Bot quhen the Kingis excellence
Did knaw my falset and offence,
And my prydefull presumptioun,
I gat none vther recompence,
Bot hoyit and houndit of the toun.

Wes neuer sa vnkynd ane corce,
As quhen I had authorite:
Of my freindis I tuke na force,
The quhilkis afore had done for me

This Prouerb, it is of verite,
Quhilk I hard red in tyll ane letter,
Hiest in Court, nixt the weddie,
Without he gyde hym all the better.

I tuke na mair compt of ane Lord
Nor I did of ane keiching knaif.
Thocht euerilk day I maid discord,
I was set vp abone the laif.
The gentill hound was to me slaif,
And with the Kingis awin fingeris fed:
The sillie raichis wald I raif;
Thus for my euill deidis wes I dred.

Tharfor, Bawte, luke best about,
Quhen thow art hiest with the King:
For than thow standis in greitest dout,
Be thow nocht gude of gouerning.
Put na pure tyke frome his steiding,
Nor ȝit na sillie Ratchis raif:
He sittis abone that seis all thing,
And of ane knicht can mak ane knaif.

Quhen I come steppand ben the flure,
All Rachis greit roume to me red;
I of na creature tuke cure,
Bot lay vpon the kingis bed,
With claith of gold thocht it wer spred.
For feir ilk freik wald stand on far;
With euerilk Dog I was so dred,
Thay trimblit quhen thay hard me nar.

Gude brother Bawte, beir the euin,
Thocht with thy Prince thow be potent.
It cryis ane vengeance from the heuin,
For till oppres ane Innocent.

In welth be than most vigilent,
And do na wrang to dog nor beiche,
As I haue, quhilk I now repent:
Na Messane reif, to mak the riche.

Nor, for augmenting of thy boundis,
Ask no reward, schir, at the king,
Quhilk may do hurt to vther houndis,
Expres aganis Goddis bidding.
Chais na pure tyke frome his midding,
Throw cast of Court, or kingis requeist.
And of thy self presume no thing,
Except thow art ane brutall beist.

Traist weill thare is none oppressour,
Nor boucheour dog, drawer of blude,
Ane Tyrrane, nor ane transgressour,
That sall now of the King get gude,
Frome tyme furth that his Celsitude
Dois cleirlie knaw the verite,
Bot he is flemit, for to conclude,
Or hangit hich vpon ane tre.

Thocht ȝe be cuplit all to gidder
With silk, and swoulis of syluer fyne,
Ane dog may cum furth of Balquhidder,
And gar ȝow leid ane lawer tryne.
Than sal ȝour plesour turne in pyne,
Quhen ane strange hounter blawis his horne,
And all your treddingis gar ȝow tyne,
Than sall ȝour laubour be forlorne.

I say no more: gude freindis, adew,
In dreid we neuer meit agane.
That euer I kend the Court I rew;
Was neuer wycht so will of wane.

Lat no Dog now serue our Souerane,
Without he be of gude conditioun.
Be he peruerst, I tell ȝow plane,
He hes neid of ane gude Remissioun.

That I am on this way mischeuit,
The Erle of Hountlie I may warie:
He kend I had bene weill releuit,
Quhen to the Court he gart me carie:
Wald God I war now in Pittarie.
Because I haue bene so euill dedie,
Adew, I dar no langer tarie,
In dreid I waif in till ane wyddie.

FINIS.

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.

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.

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.

Schir, with my Prince pertenit me nocht to pley:
Bot sen your grace hes geuin me sic command,

103

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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
Aganis the Kingis dyting.

106

THE DEPLORATIOUN OF THE DEITH OF QUENE MAGDALENE.

O cruell Deith, to greit is thy puissance,
Deuorar of all earthlie leuyng thingis.
Adam, we may the wyit of this mischance;
In thy default this cruell tyrane ringis,
And spairis nother Empryour nor Kingis,
And now, allace, hes reft furth of this land
The flour of France, and confort of Scotland.

Father Adam, allace that thow abusit
Thy fre wyll, being Inobedient.
Thow chesit Deith, and lesting lyfe refusit,
Thy Successioun, allace, that may repent,
That thow hes maid mankynd so Impotent,
That it may mak to Deith no resistance:
Exemple of our Quene, the flour of France.

O dreidfull Dragoun, with thy dulefull dart,
Quhilk did nocht spair, of Feminine the flour,
Bot cruellie did pers hir throuch the hart,
And wald nocht giue hir respite for ane hour,
To remane with hir Prince and Paramour,
That scho at laiser mycht haue tane licence,
Scotland on the may cry ane loud vengeance.

107

Thow leit Mathusalem leif nine houndreth ȝeir
Thre score and nyne: bot in thy furious rage,
Thow did deuore this ȝoung Princes but peir,
Or scho was compleit seuintene ȝeir of age.
Gredie gorman, quhy did thow nocht asswage
Thy furious rage contrair that lustie Quene,
Tyll we some fruct had of hir bodie sene?

O Dame Nature, thow did no diligence
Contrair this theif quhilk al the warld confoundis.
Had thow with naturall targis maid defence,
That brybour had not cummit within hir boundis,
And had bene sauit from sic mortall stoundis,
This mony ane ȝeir: bot quhair was thy discretion,
That leit hir pas, til we had sene succession?

O Uenus, with thy blynd sone Cupido,
Fy on ȝow baith, that maid no resistance.
In to ȝour Court ȝe neuer had sic two,
So leill Luffaris without dissimulance,
As Iames the Fift, and Magdalene of France,
Discending boith of blude Imperiall,
To quhome in lufe I find no perigall.

For as Leander swame outthrow the flude,
To his fair Lady Hero, mony nichtis,
So did this prince throw bulryng stremis wode
With Erlis, baronis, squyaris, & with knichtis,
Contrair Neptune and Eol, and thare michtis,
And left his Realme in greit disesperance,
To seik his Lufe, the first Dochter of France.

And scho lyke prudent Quene Penelope,
Ful constantlie wald change hym for none vther,
And for his plesour left hir awin countre,
Without regard to Father or to Mother,
Takyng no cure of Sister nor of Brother,
Bot schortlie tuke hir leif, and left thame all,
For lufe of hym, to quhome lufe maid hir thrall.

108

O dame Fortune, quhare was thy greit confort
Till hir to quhome thow was so fauorable?
Thy slyding gyftis maid hir no support,
Hir hie lynage, nor Riches intellible:
I se thy puissance bene bot variable,
Quhen hir father, the most hie cristinit King,
Till his deir Chyld mycht mak no supporting.

The potent Prince, hir lustie lufe and knicht,
With his most hardie Noblis of Scotland,
Contrair that bailfull bribour had no micht.
Thocht all the men had bene at his command,
Of France, Flanderis, Italie, and Ingland,
With fiftie thousand Millioun of tresour,
Mycht nocht prolong that Ladyis lyfe ane hour.

O Paris, of all Citeis principall,
Quhilk did resaue our Prince with laud & glorie,
Solempnitlie, throw Arkis triumphall,
Quhilk day bene digne to put in memorie.
For as Pompey, efter his Uictorie,
Was in to Rome resauit with greit Ioy,
So thou resauit our richt redoutit Roy.

Bot at his Mariage maid vpon the morne,
Sic solace, and Solempniȝatioun,
Was neuer sene afore, sen Christ was borne;
Nor to Scotland sic consolatioun.
Thare selit was the confirmatioun
Of the weill keipit ancient alliance
Maid betwix Scotland and the realme of france.

I neuer did se one day more glorious,
So mony in so riche abilȝementis
Of Silk and gold, with stonis precious,
Sic Banketting, sic sound of Instrumentis,
With sang, and dance, & Martiall tornamentis.
Bot lyke ane storme efter ane plesand morrow,
Sone was our solace changit in to sorrow.

109

O traytour deith, quhom none may contramand,
Thow mycht haue sene the preparatioun
Maid be the thre Estaitis of Scotland
With greit confort and consolatioun,
In euerilk Ciete, Castell, Toure, and Town,
And how ilk Nobill set his hole intent
To be excellent in Habilȝement.

Theif, saw thow nocht the greit preparatiuis
Of Edinburgh, the Nobill famous toun?
Thow saw the peple labouring for thare lyuis
To mak triumphe with trump and Clarioun.
Sic plesour was neuer in to this Regioun,
As suld haue bene the day of hir entrace,
With greit propynis geuin till hir grace.

Thow saw makand rycht costlie scaffalding,
Depayntit weill with Gold and asure fyne,
Reddie preparit for the vpsetting,
With Fontanis flowing watter cleir and wyne.
Disagysit folkis, lyke Creaturis deuyne,
On ilk scaffold, to play ane syndrie storie:
Bot all in greiting turnit thow that glorie.

Thow saw mony ane lustie fresche galland,
Weill ordourit for resauing of thair Quene;
Ilk Craftisman, with bent bow in his hand,
Full galȝeartlie in schort clething of grene;
The honest Burges, cled, thow suld haue sene,
Sum in scarlot, and sum in claith of grane,
For till haue met thare Lady Souerane.

Prouest, Baillies, and lordis of the toun,
The Senatouris in ordour consequent,
Cled in to Silk of Purpure, blak, and brown;
Syne the greit Lordis of the Parliament,
With mony knychtlie Barroun and baurent
In Silk and Gold, in colouris confortable:
Bot thow, allace, all turnit in to sable.

110

Syne, all the Lordis of Religioun,
And Princes of the preistis venerable,
Full plesandlie in thare Processioun,
With all the cunnyng Clerkis honorable.
Bot thiftuouslie, thow Tyrane tresonable,
All thare greit solace and Solempniteis,
Thow turnit in till dulefull Dirigeis.

Syne, nixt in Ordour, passing throw the toun,
Thow suld haue hard the din of Instrumentis,
Of Tabrone, Trumpet, Schalme, & Clarioun,
With reird redoundand throw the Elementis.
The Herauldis, with thare awfull Vestimentis,
With Maseris, vpon ather of thare handis,
To rewle the preis, with burneist siluer wandis.

Syne, last of all, in Ordour triumphall,
That most Illuster Princes honorable,
With hir the lustie Ladyis of Scotland,
Quhilk suld haue bene ane sycht most delectable.
Hir rayment to rehers, I am nocht able,
Of Gold, and perle, and precious stonis brycht
Twynkling lyke sterris in ane frostie nycht.

Under ane Pale of gold scho suld haue past,
Be Burgeis borne, clothit in silkis fyne;
The greit Maister of houshold all thare last:
With hym in ordour all the kingis tryne,
Quhais ordinance war langsum to defyne.
On this maner, scho, passing throw the toun,
Suld haue resauit mony benisoun

Of Uirginis, and of lustie burges wyiffis,
Quhilk suld haue bene ane sycht celestiall,
Viue la Royne cryand for thare lyiffis:
With ane Harmonious sound Angelicall,
In euerilk corner, myrthis Musicall.
Bot thow, tyrane, in quhome is found no grace,
Our Alleluya hes turnit in allace.

111

Thow suld haue hard the ornate Oratouris
Makand hir hienes Salutatioun,
Boith of the Clergy, toun, and counsalouris,
With mony Notable Narratioun.
Thow suld haue sene hir Coronatioun,
In the fair Abbay of the Holy rude,
In presence of ane myrthfull multitude.

Sic Banketing, sic aufull Tornamentis
On hors & fute, that tyme quhilk suld haue bene.
Sic Chapell Royall, with sic Instrumentis,
And craftie Musick, singing frome the splene,
In this countre was neuer hard nor sene.
Bot all this greit solempnite and gam,
Turnit thow hes In Requiem æternam.

Inconstant warld, thy freindschip I defy,
Sen strenth, nor wisdome, riches nor honour,
Uertew nor bewtie, none may certefy
Within thy boundis, for to remane ane hour.
Quhat valith to the king or Empryour,
Sen pryncely puissance may nocht be exemit
From Deith, quhose dolour can nocht be expremit?

Sen man in erth hes na place permanent,
Bot all mon passe be that horrible port,
Lat vs pray to the Lord Omnipotent,
That dulefull day to be our greit comfort,
That in his Realme we may with hym resort,
Quhilkis from the hell, with his blude ransonit bene,
With Magdalene vmquhyle of scotland Quene.

O Deith, thocht thow the body may deuore
Of euery man, ȝit hes thow no puissance,
Of thare vertew for to consume the glore.
As salbe sene of Magdalene of France,
Umquhyle our quene, quhom Poetis sal auance,
And put hir in perpetuall memorie:
So sall hir fame of the haue Uictorie.

112

Thocht thou hes slane the heuinly flour of France,
Quhilk Impit was in to the Thrissill kene,
Quharein all Scotland saw thair hail plesance,
And maid the Lyoun reioysit frome the splene:
Thocht rute be pullit frome the leuis grene,
The smell of it sall, in dispyte of the,
Keip ay twa Realmes, in Peice and Amite.

Quod Lindesay.

114

THE IUSTING BETUIX IAMES WATSOUN, AND IHONE BARBOUR, SERUITOURIS TO KING IAMES THE FYFT, COMPYLIT BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT, KNICHT. &C.

In Sanctandrois on Witsoun Monnunday,
Twa Campionis thare manheid did assay,
Past to the Barres, Enarmit heid and handis.
Wes neuer sene sic Iusting in no landis,
In presence of the Kingis grace and Quene,
Quhare mony lustie Lady mycht be sene.
Mony ane Knicht, Barroun, and baurent,
Come for to se that aufull Tornament.
The ane of thame was gentill Iames Watsoun,
And Iohne Barbour the vther Campioun:
Vnto the King thay war familiaris,
And of his Chalmer boith Cubicularis.
Iames was ane man of greit Intelligence,
Ane Medicinar, ful of Experience;
And Iohne Barbour, he was ane nobill Leche,
Crukit Carlingis he wald gar thame get speche.

Frome tyme they enterit war in to the feild,
Full womanlie thay weildit speir and scheild,
And wichtlie waiffit in the wynd thare heillis,
Hobland lyke Cadgeris rydand on thare creillis:
Bot ather ran at vther with sic haist,
That thay could neuer thair speir get in the reist.
Quhen gentil Iames trowit best with Iohne to meit,
His speir did fald amang his horssis feit.
I am rycht sure gude Iames had bene vndone,
War not that Iohne his mark tuke be the mone.

115

(Quod Iohne) howbeit thou thinkis my leggis lyke rokkis,
My speir is gude: now keip the fra my knokkis.
Tary (quod Iames) ane quhyle, for, be my thrift,
The feind ane thing I can se bot the lift.
Nor more can I (quod Iohne) be goddes breid:
I se no thing except the steipill heid.
Ȝit thocht thy braunis be lyk twa barrow trammis,
Defend the, man. Than ran thay to, lyk rammis.
At that rude rink, Iames had bene strykin doun,
Wer not that Iohne for feirsnes fell in swoun;
And rychtso Iames to Iohne had done greit deir,
Wer not amangis his hors feit he brak his speir.
(Quod Iames) to Iohne, ȝit for our ladyis saikis,
Lat vs to gidder straik thre market straikis.
I had (quod Iohne) that sall on the be wrokin;
But or he spurrit his hors, his speir wes brokin.
From tyme with speiris none could his marrow meit,
Iames drew ane sweird, with ane rycht auful spreit,
And ran til Iohne, til haif raucht him ane rout.
Iohnis swerd was roustit, & wald no way cum out.
Than Iames leit dryfe at Iohne with boith his fystis;
He mist the man, & dang vpon the lystis,
And with that straik, he trowit that Iohn was slane,
His swerd stak fast, and gat it neuer agane.
Be this gude Iohne had gottin furth his swerd,
And ran to Iames with mony aufull word:
My furiousnes forsuith now sall thow find.
Straikand at Iames, his swerd flew in the wind.
Than gentill Iames began to crak greit wordis,
Allace (quod he) this day for falt of swordis.
Than ather ran at vther with new raicis,
With gluifis of plait thay dang at vtheris facis.
Quha wan this feild, no creature could ken,
Till, at the last, Iohne cryit, fy, red the men.
Ȝe, red (quod Iames) for that is my desyre,
It is ane hour sen I began to tyre.

116

Sone be thay had endit that royall rink,
Into the feild mycht no man stand for stink.
Than euery man that stude on far cryit, fy,
Sayand, adew, for dirt partis cumpany.
Thare hors, harnes, and all geir was so gude,
Louyng to God, that day was sched no blude.

FINIS.

118

ANE SUPLICATION DIRECTIT FROME SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY, KNICHT, TO THE KINGIS GRACE, IN CONTEMPTIOUN OF SYDE TAILLIS.

Schir, thocht ȝour grace hes put gret ordour
Baith in the Hieland and the Bordour,
Ȝit mak I Supplicatioun,
Tyll haue sum Reformatioun
Of ane small falt, quhilk is nocht Tressoun,
Thocht it be contrarie to Ressoun.
Because the Matter bene so vyle,
It may nocht haue ane Ornate style;
Quharefor, I pray ȝour Excellence
To heir me with greit Pacience.
Of stinkand weidis maculate
No man may mak ane Rois Chaiplat.
Souerane, I mene of thir syde taillis,
Quhilk throw the dust and dubbis traillis,
Thre quarteris lang behind thare heillis,
Expres agane all Commoun weillis.
Thocht Bischoppis in thare pontificallis
Haue men for to beir up thare taillis,
For dignite of thare office,
Rychtso ane Quene, or ane Emprice,
Howbeit thay vse sic grauite,
Conformand to thare Maieste,
Thocht thare Rob Royallis be vpborne,
I think it is ane verray scorne
That euery Lady of the land
Suld haue hir taill so syde trailland.
Howbeit thay bene of hie estait,
The Quene thay suld nocht counterfait.

119

Quhare euer thay go, it may be sene,
How kirk and calsay thay soup clene.
The Imagis in to the kirk,
May think of thare syde tailis Irk,
For quhen the wedder bene most fair,
The dust fleis hiest in the air,
And all thare facis dois begarie.
Giue thay culd speik, thay wald thame warie.
To se I think ane plesand sicht,
Of Italie the Ladyis bricht,
In thare clething most triumphand
Aboue all vther christin land.
Ȝit quhen thay trauell throw the townis,
Men seis thare feit beneth thare gownis,
Four Inche abone thare proper heillis,
Circulat about als round as quheillis,
Quhare throw thare dois na poulder ryis,
Thare fair quhyte lymmis to suppryis.
Bot I think maist abusioun,
To se men of Religioun
Gar beir thare taillis throw the streit,
That folkis may behald thare feit:
I trow sanct Bernard nor sanct Blais
Gart neuer man beir vp thare clais;
Peter, nor Paule, nor sanct Androw,
Gart neuer beir vp thare taillis, I trow,
Bot I lauch best to se ane Nwn,
Gar beir hir taill abone hir bwn,
For no thing ellis, as I suppois,
Bot for to schaw hir lillie quhyte hois.
In all thare Rewlis, thay will nocht find
Quha suld beir vp thair taillis behind.
Bot I haue maist in to despyte,
Pure Claggokis cled in roiploch quhyte,
Quhilk hes skant twa markis for thare feis,
Wyll haue twa ellis beneth thare kneis.
Kittok, that clekkit wes ȝistrene,
The morne wyll counterfute the Quene.

120

Ane mureland Meg that mylkis the ȝowis,
Claggit with clay abone the howis,
In barn nor byir scho wyll nocht byde,
Without hir kirtyll taill be syde.
In Burrowis wantoun burges wyiffis,
Quha may haue sydest taillis stryiffis,
Weill bordourit with Ueluoit fyne:
Bot following thame, it is ane pyne,
In Somer quhen the streitis dryis;
Thay rais the dust abone the skyis:
None may go neir thame at thare eis,
Without thay couer mouth and neis,
Frome the powder, to keip thare ene.
Consider giue thare Cloiffis be clene,
Betuixt thare cleuing, and thare kneis;
Quha mycht behald thare sweitie theis,
Begairit all with dirt, and dust,
That wer aneuch to stanche the lust
Of ony man that saw thame naikit.
I think sic giglottis ar bot glaikit,
Without profite to haue sic pryde,
Harland thare claggit taillis so syde
I wald thay borrowstounis barnis had breikkis,
To keip sic mist fra Malkinnis cheikkis:
I dreid rouch Malkin de for drouth,
Quhen sic dry dust blawis in hir mouth.
I think maist pane, efter ane rane,
To se thame towkit vp agane;
Than, quhen thay step furth throw the streit,
Thare faldingis flappis about thair feit,
Thare laithlie lyning furthwart flypit,
Quhilk hes the muk and midding wypit.
Thay waist more claith within few ȝeiris,
Nor wald cleith fyftie score of freiris.
Quhen Marioun frome the midding gois,
Frome hir morne turne scho strypis the nois.
And all the day quhare euer scho go,
Sic liquour scho likkith vp also,

121

The Turcumis of hir taill, I trow,
Mycht be ane supper till ane sow.
I ken ane man, quhilk swoir greit aithis,
How he did lift ane Kittokis claithis,
And wald haue done, I wait nocht quhat;
But sone remeid of lufe he gat:
He thocht na schame to mak it wittin,
How hir syde taill was all beschittin.
Of filth sic flewer straik till his hart,
That he behouit for till depart.
(Quod scho) sweit schir, me think ȝe rew.
(Quod he) ȝour tail makis sic ane stew,
That be sanct Bryde, I may nocht byde it.
Ȝe war nocht wyse, that wald nocht hyde it.
Of Taillis I wyll no more Indyte,
For dreid sum Duddroun me despyte.
Nocht withstanding, I wyll conclude,
That of syde Taillis can cum na gude,
Syder nor may thare hanclethis hyde;
The remanent proceidis of pryde,
And Pryde proceidis of the Deuill;
Thus alway thay proceid of euill.

Ane vther fault, Schir, may be sene:
Thay hyde thare face all bot the ene.
Quhen gentill men biddis thame gude day,
Without Reuerence thay slyde away,
That none may knaw, I ȝow assure,
Ane honest woman be ane hure.
Without thare naikit face I se,
Thay get no mo gude dayis of me.
Hails ane Frence Lady quhen ȝe pleis,
Scho wyll discouer mouth and neis,
And with ane humill countenance,
With Uisage bair mak reuerence.
Quhen our Ladyis dois ryde in rane,
Suld no man haue thame at disdane,
Thocht thay be couerit, mouth and neis,
In that cace thay wyll nane displeis.

122

Nor quhen thay go to quiet places,
I thame excuse to hyde thare facis,
Quhen thay wald mak Collatioun
With ony lustie Companȝeoun,
Thocht thay be hid than to the ene,
Ȝe may considder quhat I mene.
Bot in the kirk, and market placis,
I think thay suld nocht hide thare facis.
Without thir faltis be sone amendit,
My flyting, schir, sall neuer be endit.
Bot wald your grace my counsall tak,
Ane Proclamatioun ȝe suld mak,
Baith throw the land and Borrowstounis,
To schaw thare face, and cut thare gownis.
Nane suld fra that Exemptit be,
Except the Quenis Maieste.
Because this mater is nocht fair,
Of Rethorik it man be bair.
Wemen wyll say this is no bourdis,
To wryte sic vyle and filthy wordis,
Bot wald thay clenge thare filthy taillis,
Quhilk ouir the myris and middingis traillis,
Than suld my wrytting clengit be:
None vther mendis thay get of me.
The suith suld nocht be haldin clos,
Veritas non querit Angulos.
I wait gude wemen that bene wyse,
This rurall Ryme wyll nocht dispryse.
None wyll me blame, I ȝow assure,
Except ane wantoun glorious hure,
Quhais flyting I feir nocht ane fle.
Fair weill, ȝe get no more of me.

Quod Lindesay in contempt of the syde taillis,
That duddrounis & duntibouris throu the dubbis traillis.

124

KITTEIS CONFESSIOUN, COMPYLIT (AS IS BELEUIT) BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT, KNICHT. &C.

The Curate, and Kitte.
The Curate Kitte culd Confesse,
And scho tald on baith mair and lesse.
Quhen scho was telland as scho wist,
The Curate Kitte wald haue kist,
Bot ȝit ane countenance he bure,
Degeist, deuote, daine, and demure,
And syne began hir to exempne;
He was best at the efter game.
(Quod he) haue ȝe na wrangous geir?
(Quod scho) I staw ane Pek of beir.
(Quod he) that suld restorit be,
Tharefore delyuer it to me:
Tibbe and Peter bad me speir,
Be my conscience thay sall it heir.
(Quod he) leue ȝe in lecherie?
(Quod scho) Wyll Leno mowit me.
(Quod he) his wyfe that sall I tell,
To mak hir acquentance with my sell.
(Quod he) ken ȝe na Heresie?
I wait nocht quhat that is (quod sche).
(Quod he) hard ȝe na Inglis Bukis?
(Quod scho) my Maister on thame lukis.
(Quod he) the Bischop that sall knaw,
For I am sworne that for to schaw.
(Quod he) quhat said he of the King?
(Quod scho) of gude he spak na thing.

125

(Quod he) his grace of that sall wit,
And he sall lose his lyfe for it.
Quhen scho in mynd did mair reuolue,
(Quod he) I can nocht ȝow absolue,
Bot to my Chalmer cum at euin,
Absoluit for to be and schreuin.
(Quod scho) I wyll pas tyll ane vther;
And I met with schir Andro my brother,
And he full clenelie did me schryue,
Bot he wes something talkatyue.
He speirit mony strange cace,
Quhow that my lufe did me Inbrace,
Quhat day, how oft, quhat sort, and quhare?
(Quod he) I wald I had bene thare.
He me absoluit for ane plak,
Thocht he na pryce with me wald mak,
And mekle Latyne he did mummill,
I hard na thing but hummill bummill,
He schew me nocht of Goddis word,
Quhilk scharper is than ony sword,
And deip in tyll our hart dois prent
Our syn, quhairthrow we do repent.
He pat me na thing in to feir,
Quharethrow I suld my syn forbeir;
He schew me nocht the Maledictioun
Of God for Syn, nor the afflictioun,
And in this lyfe, the greit mischeif
Ordanit to punische hure, and theif.
Nor schew he me of hellis pane,
That I mycht feir, and vice refrane.
He counsalit me nocht till abstene,
And leid ane holy lyfe and clene.
Of Christis blude, na thing he knew,
Nor of his promisses full trew,
That saifis all that wyll beleue,
That Sathan sall vs neuer greue.
He techit me nocht for tyll traist
The confort of the haly Gaist:

126

He bad me nocht to Christ be kynd,
To keip his law with hart and mynd,
And loue and thank his greit mercie,
Fra Syn and hell that sauit me,
And lufe my Nichtbour as my sell.
Of this na thing he could me tell,
Bot gaue me pennance, ilk ane day
Ane Aue Marie for to say,
And Frydayis fyue, na fische to eit;
Bot butter and eggis ar better meit:
And with ane plak to by ane Messe
Fra drounkin schir Iohne latynelesse.
(Quod he) ane plak I wyll gar Sande
Giue the agane with hande dande.
Syne in to Pilgramage to pas,
The verray way to wantounes.
Of all his pennance I was glaid,
I had thame all parqueir, I said:
To mow and steill, I ken the pryce,
I sall it set on Cincq and Syce.
Bot he my counsale culd nocht keip,
He maid hym be the fyre to sleip,
Syne cryit, Colleris, beif, and Coillis,
Hois, and schone, with dowbill soillis,
Caikis, and Candill, Creische, and Salt,
Curnis of meil, and luffillis of Malt,
Wollin, and linning, werp, and woft,
Dame, keip the keis of ȝour woll loft:
Throw drink and sleip maid him to raif.
And swa with vs thay play the knaif.
Freiris sweiris be thare professioun,
Nane can be saif but this Confessioun,
And garris all men vnderstand
That it is Goddis awin command;
Ȝit is it nocht bot mennis drame,
The peple to confound and schame.
It is nocht ellis bot mennis law,
Maid mennis myndis for to knaw,
Quharethrow thay syle thame as thay will,

127

And makis thare law conforme thare till;
Sittand in mennis conscience,
Abone Goddis Magnificence,
And dois the peple teiche and tyste,
To serue the Paip, the Antechriste.
To the greit God Omnipotent
Confes thy Syn, and sore repent,
And traist in Christ, as wrytis Paule,
Quhilk sched his blude to saif thy Saule:
For nane can the absolue bot he,
Nor tak away thy syn frome the.
Giue of gude counsall thow hes neid,
Or hes nocht lernit weill thy Creid,
Or wickit vicis regne in the,
The quhilk thow can nocht mortifie,
Or be in Desperatioun,
And wald haue Consolatioun,
Than till ane preichour trew thow pas,
And schaw thy Syn and thy trespas.
Thow nedis nocht to schaw hym all,
Nor tell thy Syn baith greit and small,
Quhilk is vnpossible to be,
Bot schaw the vice that troubillis the,
And he sall of thy saule haue reuth,
And the Instruct in to the treuth,
And with the word of verite
Sall confort and sall counsall the,
The Sacramentis schaw the at lenth,
Thy lytle faith to stark and strenth,
And how thow suld thame richtlie vse,
And all Hypocrisie refuse.
Confessioun first wes ordanit fre,
In this sort in the Kirk to be.
Swa to confes, as I descryue,
Wes in the gude Kirk Primityue:
Swa wes Confessioun ordanit first,
Thocht Codrus kyte suld cleue and birst.

Finis.

130

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE TRAGEDIE, OF THE UMQUHYLE MAIST REUEREND FATHER DAUID BE THE MERCY OF GOD, CARDINALL, AND ARCHIBYSCHOPE OF SANCTANDROUS. &C.

COMPYLIT BE SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY, OF THE MONT, KING OF ARMES.

THE PROLOG.

Nocht Lang ago, efter the hour of pryme,
Secreitly sittyng in myne Oratorie,
I tuk ane Buke, tyll occupye the tyme,
Quhare I fand mony Tragedie and storie,
Quhilk Ihone Bochas had put in memorie,
Quhov mony Prencis, Conquerouris, and kingis
War dulfullie deposit frome thare ryngis;

Quhov Alexander, the potent Conquerour,
In Babilone was poysonit pieteouslie;
And Iulius, the mychtie Emperiour,
Murdreist at Rome, causles and creuellie;
Prudent Pompey, in Egypt schamefullie
He murdreist was; quhat nedith proces more?
Quhose Tragideis war pietie tyll deplore.

I sittyng so, vpon my Buke redyng,
Rycht suddantlie afore me did appeir
Ane woundit man, aboundantlie bledyng,
With vissage paill, and with ane dedlye cheir,

131

Semand ane man of two and fyftie ȝeir,
In Rayment reid, clothit full curiouslie,
Off vellot, and of Saityng Crammosie.

With febyll voce, as man opprest with paine,
Soiftlye he maid me supplycatioun,
Sayand, my freind, go reid, and reid againe
Geue thow can fynde, by trew Narratioun,
Off ony paine lyke to my Passioun:
Rycht sure I am, war Ihone Bochas on lyue,
My tragedie at lenth he wald discryue.

Sen he is gone, I pray the tyll indyte
Off my Infortune sum Rememb[e]ra[n]ce,
Or, at the leist, my Tragedie to wryte,
As I to the sall schaw the Circumstance,
In teirmes breue, of my vnhappy chance,
Sen my beginnyng tyll my faitell ende,
Quhilk I wald tyll all creature war kende.

I not, said I, mak sic memoriall,
Geue of thy name I had Intelligence.
I am Dauid, that cairfull Cardinall,
Quhilk doith appeir (said he) to thy presens,
That vmquhyle had so gret preeminens.
Than he began his dedis tyll indyte,
As ȝe sall heir; and I began to wryte.

THE TRAGEDIE.

I, Dauid Betone, Umquhyle Cardinall,
Off nobyl blude, be lyne, I did discend:
Duryng my tyme, I had no perigall,
Bot now is cum, allace, my faitell end.
Aye, gre by gre, vpwarte I did ascende,
Swa that in to this realme did neuer ryng
So gret one man as I, vnder ane kyng.

132

Quhen I was ane ȝoung Ioly gentyll man,
Prencis to serue I sett my hole intent.
First, tyll ascende, at Arbroith I began,
Ane Abasie of gret ryches and rent;
Off that estait ȝit was I nocht contente:
To get more ryches, Dignitie, and glore,
My hart was set: allace, allace, tharefore.

I maid sic seruyce tyll our Souerane kyng,
He did Promoue me tyll more hie estait,
One Prince, abufe all preistis for tyll ryng,
Arschibyschope of Sanctandrous consecrat.
Tyll that honour quhen I wes Eleuate,
My prydefull hart was nocht content at all,
Tyll that I create wes one Cardinall.

Ȝit praist I tyll haue more auctor[it]ie,
And, fynalie, was chosin Chancelare,
And, for vphalding of my dignitie,
Was maid Legate: than had I no compare.
I purcheist, for my proffect singulare,
My Boxsis and my Threasure tyll auance,
The Byschopreik of Merapose, in France.

Off all Scotland I had the Gouernall;
But my awyse, concludit wes no thyng:
Abbot, Byschope, Archibyschope, Cardinall,
In to this Realme no hiear could I ryng,
Bot I had bene Pape, Emperour, or Kyng.
For schortnes of the tyme, I am nocht abyll
At lenth to schaw my actis honorabyll.

For my moste Princelye Prodigalytie
Amang prelatis in france, I bure the pryse:
I schew my Lordlye Lyberalytie,
In Banketting, playng at cartis, and Dyse:
In to sic wysedome I was haldin wyse,
And sparit nocht to playe with Kyng nor knycht,
Thre thousand crownis of gold, vpon ane nycht.

133

In France I maid seir honest Uoyagis,
Quhare I did Actis ding of Remembrance.
Throuch me war maid Tryumphand Mariagis,
Tyll our Souerane boith proffet and plesance.
Quene Magdalene, the first Dochter of france,
With gret ryches, was in to Scotland brocht:
That mariage, throch my wysedome, wes wrocht.

Efter quhose deith, in france I paste agane:
The secunde Quene homwart I did conuoye,
That Lustye princes, Marie de Lorane,
Quhilk wes resauit with gret tryumphe & Ioye.
So seruit I our rycht Redouttit Roye.
Sone efter that, Harye, of Ingland Kyng,
Off our Souerane desyrit ane commonyng.

Off that metyng our Kyng wos weill content,
So that in ȝorck was sett boith tyme and place:
Bot our Prelatis nor I wald neuer consent
That he sulde se Kyng Harye in the face;
Bot we wer weill content, quhowbeit his grace
Had salit the sey, to speik with ony vther,
Except that kyng, quhilk was his mother brother.

Quhair throch thar rose gret weir & mortal stryfe,
Gret heirschippis, honnger, darth, and desolatioun:
On ather syde did mony lose thare lyfe.
Geue I wald mak ane trew Narratioun,
I causit all that trybulatioun:
For tyll tak peace I neuer wald consent,
Without the kyng of france had bene content.

Duryng this weir war takin presoneris,
Off nobyll men, fechtyng full furiouslie,
Mony one Lorde, Barrone, and Bachileris,
Quhar throuch our king tuke sic melancolie
Quhilk draue hym to the dede, rycht dulefullie.
Extreme Dolour ouirset did so his hart,
That frome this lyfe, allace, he did depart.

134

Bot, efter that boith strenth and speche wes lesit,
Ane paper blank his grace I gart subscryue,
In to the quhilk I wrait all that I plesit,
Efter his deth, quhilk lang war tyll discryue.
Throuch that wrytting I purposit, belyue,
With supporte of sum Lordis beneuolens,
In this Regioun tyll haue Preemynens.

As for my Lord, our rychteous Gouernour,
Geue I wald schortlie schaw the veritie,
Tyll hym I had no maner of fauour.
Duryng that tyme, I purposit that hee
Suld neuir cum to none Auctoritie:
For his supporte, tharefor, he brocht amang ws,
Furth of Ingland, the nobyll Erle of Angous.

Than was I put abak frome my purpose,
And suddantlie caste in captyuitie,
My prydefull hart to dant, as I suppose,
Deuysit by the heych Diuinitie.
Ȝit in my hart sprang no humylitie:
Bot now the word of God full weill I knaw;
Quho dois exault hym self, God sall hym law.

In the meine tyme, quhen I wes so subiectit,
Ambassaldouris war sent in to Ingland,
Quhare thay boith peace and mariage contractit;
And, more surelie for tyll obserue that band,
War promeist diuers pleagis of Scotland.
Off that contract I wes no way content,
Nor neuir wald thare to geue my consent.

Tyll Capytanis that kepit me in waird,
Gyftis of gold I gaue thame, gret plentie;
Rewlaris of court I rychelie did rewaird,
Quhare throuch I chapit frome Captyuitie:
Bot, quhen I was fre, at my libertie,
Than, lyke ane Lyone lowsit of his Caige,
Out throuch this realme I gan to reil and rage.

135

Contrare the Gouernour and his companie
Oft tymes maid I insurrextioun,
Purposyng for tyll haue hym haistelie
Subdewit on to my correctioun,
Or put hym tyll extreme subiectioun.
Duryng this tyme, geue it war weill dissydit,
This realme by me was vterlie deuydit.

The Gouernour purposyng to subdew,
I rasit ane oyste of mony bald Baroun,
And maid ane raid quhilk Lythgow ȝit may rew;
For we distroyit ane myle about the town.
For that I gat mony blak malysoun:
Ȝit, contrare the Gouernouris intent,
With our ȝoung Princes, we to Steruilyng went.

For heygh contemptioun of the Gouernour,
I brocht the Erle of Lennox furth of France:
That lustie Lord, leuand in gret plesour,
Did loce that land and honest ordinance.
Bot he and I fell soune at variance,
And throch my counsall was, within schort space,
Forfaltit and flemit; he gat none vther grace.

Than, throuch my prudens, pratyke, and ingyne,
Our Gouernour I causit to consent,
Full quyetlie to my counsale inclyne;
Quhareof his Nobyllis war nocht weill content.
For quhy I gart dissolue, in plane Parliament,
The band of peace contra[c]tit with Ingland,
Quharthroch com harme & heirschip to scotland.

That peace brokin, arrose new mortall weris,
Be sey and land sic reif without releif,
Quhilk to report my frayit hart afferis.
The veritie to schaw, in termes breif,
I was the rute of all that gret myscheif.
The south countre may saye, it had been gude
That my Noryce had smorde me in my cude.

136

I wes the cause of mekle more myschance,
For vphald of my glore and dignitie,
And plesour of the potent Kyng of france.
With Ingland wald I haue no vnitie:
Bot, quho consydder wald the veritie,
We mycht full weill haue leuit in peace and rest,
Nyne or ten ȝeris, and than playit lowis or fast.

Had we with Ingland kepit our contrackis,
Our nobyll men had leuit in peace and rest,
Our Marchandis had nocht lost so mony packis,
Our commoun peple had nocht bene opprest;
On ather syde all wrangis had been redrest.
Bot Edinburgh, sen syne, Leith, and Kyngorne,
The day and hour may ban that I was borne.

Our Gouernour, to mak hym to me sure,
With sweit and subtell wordis I did him syle,
Tyll I his Sone and Air gat in my cure.
To that effect, I fand that crafty wyle,
That he no maner of waye mycht me begyle:
Than leuch I, quhen his liegis did allege
Quhow I his Sone had gottin in to plege.

The Erle of Angus and his Germane brother,
I purposit to gar thame lose thare lyfe;
Rycht so tyll haue distroyit mony vther;
Sum with the fyre, sum with the sword and knyfe;
In speciale mony gentyll men of fyfe;
And purposit tyll put to gret Torment
All fauoraris of the auld and new Testament.

Than euery freik thay tuke of me sic feir,
That tyme quhen I had so gret Gouernans,
Gret Lordis, dreidyng I sulde do thame deir,
Thay durst nocht cum tyll court but assurans:
Sen syne thair hes nocht bene sic varians.
Now, tyll our Prince Barronis, obedientlie,
But assurance thay cum, full courteslie.

137

My hope was moste in to the kyng of france,
To gyddir with the Popis holynes,
More nor in God, my worschipe tyll auance.
I traistit so in to thare gentylnes,
That no man durste presome me tyll oppres:
Bot, quhen the day come of my faitell hure,
Far was frome me thare supporte and succoure.

Than, to preserue my ryches and my lyfe,
I maid one strynth, of wallis heych and braid;
Sic ane Fortres wes neuer found in fyfe;
Beleuand thare durst no man me inuaid.
Now fynd I trew the saw quhilk Dauid said:
Without God of ane hous be maister of wark,
He wyrkis in vaine, thocht it be neuer so stark.

For I was, throuch the hie power Diuine,
Rycht dulefulliye doung down amang the asse,
Quhilk culd not be throch mortal mannis ingyne:
Bot, as Dauid did slay the gret Gollyasse,
Or Holopharne be Judeth keillit wasse,
In myd amang his tryumphant Armye,
So was I slane in to my cheiff Cietie.

Quhen I had gretest Dominatioun,
As Lucifer had in the heuin Impyre,
Came, suddantlyie, my Depryuatioun,
Be thame quhilk did my dolent deith conspyre.
So creuell was thare furious byrnand Yre,
I gat no tyme, layser, nor lybertie,
To saye In Manus Tuas Domine.

Behald my Faitell Infylicitie.
I beand in my strenth Incomparabyll,
That dreidfull Dungioun maid me no supple,
My gret ryches, nor rentis proffitabyll.
My Syluer work, Iowellis inestimabyll,
My Papall pompe, of gold my ryche threasure,
My lyfe, and all, I loste in half ane hour.

138

To the peple wes maid ane Spectakle
Off my dede and deformit Carioun.
Sum said it wes ane manifest Myrakle;
Sum said it was Diuine Punitioun,
So to be slane, in to my strang Dungeoun.
Quhen euery man had Iugit as hym lyste,
Thay Saltit me, syne cloist me in ane kyste.

I laye vnburyit sewin monethtis and more,
Or I was borne to closter, kirk, or queir,
In ane mydding, quhilk paine bene tyll deplore,
Without suffrage of Chanoun, Monk, or freir.
All proude Prelatis at me may Lessonis leir,
Quhilk rang so lang, and so tryumphantlie,
Syne, in the dust, doung doun so dulefullie.

TO THE PRELATIS.

O ȝe My Brether Prencis of the Preistis,
I mak ȝow, hartly, Supplycatioun
Boith nycht and day reuolfe, in to ȝour breistis,
The Proces of my Depriuatioun.
Consydder quhat bene ȝour Uocatioun;
To follow me I pray ȝow nocht pretend ȝow,
Bot reid at lenth this Sedull that I send ȝow.

Ȝe knaw quhow Iesu his Disciplis sent,
Ambassaldouris, tyll euery Natioun,
To schaw his law and his commandiment
To all peple, by Predycatioun:
Tharefor I mak to ȝow Narratioun,
Sen ȝe to thame ar verray Successouris,
Ȝe aucht tyll do as did ȝour Predicessouris.

Quhow dar ȝe be so bauld tyll tak on hand
For to be Herraldis to so gret one Kyng,

139

To beir his Message boith to burgh and land,
Ȝe beand dum, and can pronunc[e] no thyng,
Lyke Menstralis that can nocht play nor sing.
Or quhy suld men geue to sic Hirdis hyre,
Quhilk can not gyde thare scheip about the myre?

Schame ȝe nocht to be Christis seruaturis,
And, for ȝour fee, hes gret Temporall landis,
Syne of ȝour office can nocht take the curis,
As Cannone Law & Scripture ȝow commandis.
Ȝe wyll not want teind cheif, nor offrandis,
Teinde woll, teind lamb, teind calf, teind gryce, and guse;
To mak seruyce ȝe ar all out of vse.

My deir brether, do nocht as ȝe war wount;
Amend ȝour lyfe, now, quhill ȝour day Induris:
Traist weill, ȝe sall be callit to ȝour count
Off euerilk thyng belanging to ȝour curis.
Leif hasarttrie, ȝour harlottrie, and huris,
Remembring on my vnprouisit dede;
For efter deith may no man mak remede.

Ȝe Prelatis, quhilkis hes thousandis for to spende,
Ȝe send ane sempyll freir for ȝow to preche.
It is ȝour craft, I mak it to ȝow kend,
Ȝour selfis, in ȝour Templis, for to teche.
Bot farlye nocht, thocht syllie freris fleche;
For, and thay planelie schaw the veritie,
Than wyll thay want the Byschope charitie.

Quharefor bene gewin ȝow sic Royall rent,
Bot for tyll fynd the peple Spirituall fude,
Prechand to thame the auld and new testament?
The law of God doith planelye so conclude.
Put nocht ȝour hope in to no wardly gude,
As I haue done: behauld, my gret threasoure
Maid me no helpe, at my vnhappye houre.

140

That day quhen I was Byschope consecrat,
The gret Byble wes bound apon my bak:
Quhat wes tharein lytill I knew, god wat,
More than ane beist berand ane precious pak.
Bot haistelie my conuenent I brak;
For I wes oblyste, with my awin consent,
The law of God to preche with gude intent.

Brether, rycht so, quhen ȝe wer consecrat,
Ȝe oblyste ȝow all on the sammyn wyse.
Ȝe may be callit Byschoppis countrafait,
As Gallandis buskit for to mak ane gyse.
Now thynk I, Prencis ar no thyng to pryse,
Tyll geue ane famous office tyll ane fule;
As quho walde putt ane Myter on ane Mule.

Allace, and ȝe that sorrowfull sycht hade sene,
Quhow I laye bulrand, baithit in my blude,
To mend ȝour lyfe it had occasioun bene,
And laif ȝour auld corruptit conswetude:
Failȝeing thare of, than, schortlie I conclude,
Without ȝe frome ȝour rebaldrye arryse,
Ȝe sall be seruit on the sammyn wyse,

TO THE PRENCIS.

Imprudent Prencis, but discretioun,
Hauyng, in erth, power Imperiall,
Ȝe bene the cause of this Transgressioun:
I speik to ȝow all in to generall,
Quhilk doith dispone all office spirituall,
Geuand the saulis, quhilkis bene Chrystis scheip,
To blynd Pastouris but conscience, to keip.

Quhen ȝe, Prencis, doith laik ane officiar,
Ane Baxster, Browster, or ane maister Cuke,

141

Ane trym Tailȝeour, ane counnyng Cordonar,
Ouir all the land at lenth ȝe wyll gar luke
Most abyll men sic officis tyll bruke;
Ane Browster quhilk can brew moste hoilsum aill,
Ane cunnyng Cuke quhilk best can cessone caill,

Ane Tailȝeour quhilk hes fosterit bene in france,
That can mak garmentis on the gayest gyse.
Ȝe Prencis bene the cause of this myschance,
That, quhen thare doith vaik ony benefyse,
Ȝe aucht tyll do apone the sammyn wyse,
Gar sears and seik, baith in to burgh and lande,
The law of God quho best can vnderstande.

Mak hym Byschope that prudentlie can preche,
As dois pertene tyll his vocatioun;
Ane Persone quhilk his Parisone can teche.
Gar Uicaris mak dew Mynistratioun,
And als I mak ȝow supplycatioun,
Mak ȝour Abbotis of rycht Religious men,
Quhilk Christis law can to thare Conuent ken;

Bot not to rebaldis new cum frome the roste,
Nor of ane stuffat stollin out of ane stabyll,
The quhilk in to the scule maid neuer na coste,
Nor neuer was tyll Spirituall science abyll,
Except the cartis, the dyce, the ches, and tabyll,
Off Rome rakaris, nor of rude Ruffianis,
Off calsay Paikaris, nor of Publycanis,

Nor to Fantastyke fenȝeit flatt[err]aris,
Most meit to gather mussillis in to Maye,
Off Cowhubeis, nor ȝit of clatterraris,
That in the kirk can nother sing nor saye,
Thocht thay be clokit vp in clerkis arraye,
Lyke doytit Doctoris new cum out of Athenis,
And mummyll ouer ane pair of maglit matenis.

142

Nocht qualyfeit to bruke ane benefyse,
Bot throuch schir Symonis solystatioun,
I was promouit on the sammyn wyse,
Allace, throuch Prencis supplycatioun,
And maid, in Rome, throuch fals narratioun,
Byschope, Abbote, bot no Religious man:
Quho me promouit I now thare banis ban.

Quhowbeit I was Legat and Cardinall,
Lytill I knew tharein quhat sulde be done;
I vnderstude no science spirituall,
No more than did blynd Alane of the mone.
I dreid the Kyng that syttith heych abone,
On ȝow Prencis sall mak sore punischement,
Rycht so, on ws, throuch rychteous Iugement:

On ȝow, Prencis, for vndescreit geuyng
Tyll Ignorantis, sic officis tyll vse;
And we, for our Inoportune askyng,
Quhilk sulde haue done sic dignitie refuse.
Our Ignorance hes done the warld abuse,
Throuch Couatyce of ryches and of rent.
That euer I was ane Prelate I repent.

O Kyngis, mak ȝe no cair to geue, in cure,
Uirginis profest in to Religioun,
In tyll the keipyng of ane commoun hure?
To mak, thynk ȝe nocht gret diresioun,
Ane woman Persone of ane parisoun,
Quhare thare bene two thousand saulis to gyde,
That frome Harlots can not hir hyppis hyde?

Quhat and Kyng Dauid leuit in thir dayis,
Or out of heuin quhat and he lukit down,
The quhilk did found so mony fair Abbayis.
Seand the gret Abhominatioun
In mony abayis of this Natioun,
He wald repent, that Narrowit so his boundis
Off ȝeirly rent thre score of thousand poundis.

143

Quharefor I counsayle eueryilk christinit kyng
With in his realme mak Reformatioun,
And suffer no mo Rebaldis for to ryng
Abufe Christis trew Congregatioun:
Failȝeying thareof, I mak Narratioun
That ȝe Prencis and Prelatis, all at onis,
Sall bureit be in hell, Saule, blude, and bonis.

That euer I brukit Benefice I rew,
Or to sic hycht so proudely did pretend.
I man depart: tharefor, my freinds, adew;
Quhare euer it plesith God, now man I wend.
I praye the tyll my freindis me Recommend,
And failȝe nocht at lenth to put in wryte
My Tragedie, as I haue done Indyte.

FINIS.

146

THE HISTORIE OF ANE NOBIL AND WAILȜEAND SQUYER, WILLIAM MELDRUM, VMQUHYLE LAIRD OF CLEISCHE AND BYNNIS.

COMPYLIT BE SIR DAUID LYNDESAY OF THE MONT, ALIAS, LYOUN, KING OF ARMES.

Quho that Antique Stories reidis
Considder may the famous deidis
Of our Nobill Progenitouris,
Quhilk suld to vs be richt mirrouris,
Thair verteous deidis to ensew,
And vicious leuing to eschew.
Sic Men bene put in memorie,
That deith suld not confound thair glorie.
Howbeit thair bodie bene absent,
Thair verteous deidis bene present.
Poetis, thair honour to auance,
Hes put thame in rememberance.
Sum wryt of preclair Conquerouris;
And sum of vailȝeand Empriouris;
And sum of Nobill Michtie Kingis,
That Royallie did reull thair Ringis;
And sum of Campiounis and of Knichtis,
That bauldlie did defend thair richtis,
Quhilk vailȝeandlie did stand in stour,
For the defence of thair honour;
And sum of Squyeris douchtie deidis,
That wounders wrocht in weirlie weidis.
Sum wryt of deidis amorous;

147

As Chauceir wrait of Troilus,
How that he luiffit Cressida;
Of Iason and of Medea.
With help of Cleo I intend,
Sa Minerue wald me Sapience send,
Ane Nobill Squyer to discryfe,
Quhais douchtines, during his Lyfe,
I knaw my self: thairof I wryte,
And all his deidis I dar indyte.
And secreitis, that I did not knaw,
That Nobill Squyer did me schaw.
Sa I intend, the best I can,
Descryue the deidis and the Man;
Quhais ȝouth did occupie in lufe,
Full plesantlie, without reprufe;
Quhilk did as monie douchtie deidis
As monie ane that men of reidis,
Quhilkis Poetis puttis in Memorie,
For the exalting of thair glorie.
Quhairfoir, I think, sa God me saif,
He suld haue place amangis the laif,
That his hie honour suld not smure,
Considering quhat he did indure,
Oft times for his Ladeis sake.
I wait Sir Lancelote du lake,
Quhen he did lufe King Arthuris wyfe,
Faucht neuer better with sword nor knyfe,
For his Ladie in no battell,
Nor had not half so just querrell.
The veritie quha list declair,
His Lufe was ane Adulterair,
And durst not cum into hir sicht,
Bot lyke ane Houlet on the nicht.
With this Squyer it stude not so:
His Ladie luifit him and no mo.
Husband nor Lemman had scho none;
And so he had hir lufe alone.
I think it is no happie lyfe,

148

Ane Man to jaip his Maisteris wyfe,
As did Lancelote: this I conclude,
Of sic amour culd cum na gude.

Now to my purpois will I pas,
And shaw ȝow how the Squyer was:
Ane gentilman of Scotland borne.
So was his Father him beforne,
Of Nobilnes lineallie discendit,
Quhilks thair gude fame hes euer defendit.
Gude Williame Meldrum he was namit,
Quhilk in his honour was neuer defamit;
Stalwart and stout in euerie stryfe,
And borne within the Schyre of Fyfe,
To Cleische and Bynnis richt Heritour,
Quhilk stude for Lufe in monie stour.
He was bot twentie ȝeiris of age,
Quhen he began his Uassalage:
Proportionat weill, of mid stature,
Feirie, and wicht, and micht indure,
Ouirset with trauell, both nicht and day,
Richt hardie baith in ernist and play,
Blyith in countenance, richt fair of face,
And stude weill ay in his Ladies grace;
For he was wounder amiabill,
And, in all deidis, honorabill,
And ay his honour did auance,
In Ingland first and syne in France.
And thair his manheid did assaill,
Under the Kingis greit Admirall,
Quhen the greit Nauie of Scotland
Passit to the sey aganis Ingland.
And as thay passit be Ireland Coist,
The Admirall gart land his Oist,
And set Craigfergus into Fyre,
And saifit nouther Barne nor Byre.
It was greit pietie for to heir
Of the pepill the bailfull cheir,
And how the Land folk wer spuilȝeit.

149

Fair wemen vnderfute wer fuilȝeit.
Bot this ȝoung Squyer, bauld and wicht,
Sauit all wemen quhair he micht:
All Preistis and Freiris he did saue.
Till, at the last, he did persaue,
Behind ane Garding amiabill,
Ane womanis voce richt lamentabill,
And on that voce he followit fast,
Till he did see hir, at the last,
Spuilȝeit, naikit as scho was borne.
Twa men of weir wer hir beforne,
Quhilk wer richt cruell men and kene,
Partand the spuilȝie thame betwene.
Ane fairer woman nor scho wes
He had not sene in onie place.
Befoir him on hir kneis scho fell,
Sayand, for him that heryit Hell,
Help me, sweit Sir, I am ane Mayd.
Than softlie to the men he said,
I pray ȝow giue againe hir sark,
And tak to ȝow all vther wark.
Hir Kirtill was of Scarlot reid;
Of gold ane garland of hir heid,
Decorit with Enamelyne,
Belt, and Brochis of siluer fyne.
Of ȝallow Taftais wes hir sark,
Begaryit all with browderit wark,
Richt craftelie with gold and silk.
Than said the Ladie, quhyte as milk,
Except my sark, no thing I craue;
Let thame go hence, with all the laue.
Quod thay to hir, be Sanct Fillane,
Of this ȝe get nathing agane.
Than said the Squyer, courteslie,
Gude Freindis, I pray ȝow hartfullie,
Gif ȝe be worthie Men of Weir,
Restoir to hir agane hir Geir;
Or, be greit God that all hes wrocht,

150

That spuilȝie salbe full deir bocht.
Quod thay to him, we the defy,
And drew thair swordis haistely,
And straik at him with sa greit Ire,
That from his Harnes flew the fyre:
With duntis sa darflie on him dang,
That he was neuer in sic ane thrang.
Bot he him manfullie defendit,
And with ane bolt on thame he bendit,
And hat the ane vpon the heid,
That to the ground he fell doun deid:
For to the teith he did him cleif,
Lat him ly thair with ane mischeif.
Than, with the vther, hand for hand,
He beit him with his birneist brand.
The vther was baith stout and strang,
And on the Squyer darflie dang.
And than the Squyer wrocht greit wonder,
Ay till his sword did shaik in sunder.
Than drew he furth ane sharp dagair,
And did him cleik be the Collair,
And euin in at the collerbane,
At the first straik he hes him slane:
He founderit fordward to the ground.
Ȝit was the Squyer haill and sound;
For quhy, he was sa weill enarmit,
He did escaip fra thame vnharmit.
And, quhen he saw thay wer baith slane,
He to that Ladie past agane,
Quhair scho stude nakit on the bent,
And said, tak ȝour abulȝement.
And scho him thankit full humillie,
And put hir claithis on spedilie.
Than kissit he that Ladie fair,
And tuik his leif at hir but mair.
Be that the Taburne and Trumpet blew,
And euerie man to shipburd drew.
That Ladie was dolent in hart,

151

From tyme scho saw he wald depart,
That hir releuit from hir harmes,
And hint the Squyer in hir armes,
And said, will ȝe byde in this Land,
I sall ȝow tak to my Husband.
Thocht I be cassin, now, in cair,
I am (quod scho) my Fatheris Air,
The quhilk may spend, of pennies round,
Of ȝeirlie Rent ane thowsand Pound.
With that, hartlie scho did him kis.
Ar ȝe (quod scho) content of this?
Of that (quod he) I wald be fane,
Gif I micht in this Realme remane.
Bot I mon first pas into France;
Sa quhen I cum agane, perchance,
And efter that the Peice be maid,
To marie ȝow I will be glaid:
Fair weill, I may no langer tarie.
I pray God keip ȝow, & sweit sanct Marie.
Than gaif scho him ane Lufe taking,
Ane riche Rubie set in ane Ring.
I am (quod scho) at ȝour command,
With ȝow to pas into Scotland.
I thank ȝow hartfullie (quod he)
Ȝe ar ouir ȝoung to saill the See,
And speciallie with Men of weir.
Of that (quod scho) tak ȝe na feir,
I sall me cleith in mennis clais,
And ga with ȝow quhair euir ȝe pleis.
Suld I not lufe him Paramour,
That saifit my Lyfe and my honour?
Ladie, I say ȝow in certane
Ȝe sall haue lufe for lufe agane,
Trewlie, vnto my Lyfis end.
Fairweill, to God I ȝow commend.
With that, into his Boit he past,
And to the ship he rowit fast.
Thay weyit thair ankeris, and maid saill,

152

This Nauie, with the Admirall,
And landit in bauld Brytane.
This Admirall was Erle of Arrane,
Quhilk was baith wyse and vailȝeand,
Of the blude Royall of Scotland,
Accompanyit with monie ane Knicht,
Quhilk wer richt worthie men and wicht.
Amang the laif, this ȝoung Squyar
Was with him richt familiar;
And, throw his verteous diligence,
Of that Lord he gat sic credence,
That, quhen he did his courage ken,
Gaif him cure of fyue hundreth men,
Quhilkis wer to him obedient,
Reddie at his commandement.
It wer to lang for to declair
The douchtie deidis that he did thair.
Becaus he was sa courageous,
Ladies of him wes amorous.
He was ane Munȝeoun for ane Dame;
Meik in Chalmer, lyk ane lame:
Bot, in the Feild, ane Campioun,
Rampand lyke ane wyld Lyoun;
Weill practikit with Speir and Scheild,
And with the formest in the Feild.
No Chiftane was, amangis thame all,
In expensis mair liberall.
In euerilk play he wan the pryse:
With that, he was verteous and wyse.
And so, becaus he was weill pruif[i]t,
With euerie man he was weill luifit.

HARY the aucht, King of Ingland,
That tyme at Caleis wes lyand,
With his triumphant ordinance,
Makand weir on the Realme of France.
The King of France his greit armie
Lay neir hand by, in Picardie,

153

Quhair aither vther did assaill,
Howbeit thair was na set battaill.
Bot thair wes daylie skirmishing,
Quhair men of armis brak monie sting.
Quhen to the Squyer Meldrum
Wer tauld thir Nouellis, all and sum,
He thocht he wald vesie the weiris,
And waillit furth ane hundreth Speiris,
And Futemen quhilk wer bauld & stout,
The maist worthie of all his rout.

Quhen he come to the King of France,
He wes sone put in ordinance;
Richt so was all his companie,
That on him waitit continuallie.
Thair was, into the Inglis Oist,
Ane Campioun that blew greit boist.
He was ane stout Man and ane strang,
Quhilk Oist wald, with his conduct, gang
Outthrow the greit Armie of France,
His valiantnes for to auance.
And Maister Talbart was his name,
Of Scottis & Frenche quhilk spak disdane;
And on his Bonnet vsit to beir
Of Siluer fyne takinnis of weir:
And Proclamatiounis he gart mak,
That he wald, for his Ladies saik,
With any gentilman of France
To fecht with him with Speir or Lance.
Bot no Frenche man in all that Land,
With him durst battell, hand for hand.
Than, lyke ane Weiriour vailȝeand,
He enterit in the Scottis band.
And quhen the Squyer Meldrum
Hard tell this Campioun wes cum,
Richt haistelie he past him till,
Demanding him quhat was his will.
Forsuith, I can find none (quod he)
On hors nor fute dar fecht with me.

154

Than, said he, it wer greit schame,
Without battell ȝe suld pas hame.
Thairfoir to God I mak ane vow,
The morne my self sall fecht with ȝow,
Outher on Horsbak or on fute:
Ȝour crakkis I count thame not ane cute.
I sall be fund into the Feild,
Armit, on Hors, with speir and Scheild.
Maister Talbart said, my gude Chyld,
It wer maist lyk that thow wer wyld.
Thow ar to ȝoung, and hes no micht
To fecht with me that is so wicht:
To speik to me thow suld haue feir;
For I haue sic practik in weir,
That I wald not effeirit be
To mak debait aganis sic thre:
For I haue stand in monie stour,
And ay defendit my honour.
Thairfoir, my barne, I counsell the
Sic interprysis to let be.
Than said this Squyer to the Knicht,
I grant ȝe ar baith greit and wicht.
Ȝoung Dauid was far les than I,
Quhen he with Golias, manfullie,
Withouttin outher Speir or Scheild,
He faucht, and slew him in the Feild.
I traist that God salbe my Gyde,
And giue me grace to stanche thy pryde.
Thocht thow be greit like Gowmakmorne,
Traist weill I sall ȝow meit the morne:
Beside Montruill, vpon the grene,
Befoir ten houris I salbe sene.
And, gif ȝe wyn me in the Feild,
Baith hors & Geir I sall ȝow ȝeild,
Sa that siclyke ȝe do to me.
That I sall do, be God (quod he)
And thairto I giue the my hand.
And swa betwene thame maid an Band,

155

That thay suld meit vpon the morne.
Bot Talbart maid at him bot Scorne,
Lychtlyand him with wordis of pryde,
Syne hamewart to his Oist culd ryde,
And shew the Brethren of his Land,
How ane ȝoung Scot had tane on hand
To fecht with him beside Montruill:
Bot, I traist, he sall prufe the fuill.
Quod thay, the morne that sall we ken:
The Scottis ar haldin hardie men.
Quod he, I compt thame not ane cute;
He sall returne vpon his fute,
And leif with me his armour bricht;
For weill I wait he hes no micht,
On hors nor fute, to fecht with me.
Quod thay, the morne that sall we se.
Quhan to Monsour de Obenie
Reportit was the veritie,
How that the Squyer had tane on hand
To fecht with Talbart, hand for hand,
His greit courage he did commend;
Sine haistelie did for him send.
And quhen he come befoir the Lord,
The veritie he did record;
How, for the honour of Scotland,
That Battell he had tane on hand.
And, sen it giuis me in my hart,
Get I ane hors to tak my part,
My traist is sa in Goddis grace,
To leif him lyand in the place.
Howbeit he stalwart be, and stout,
My Lord, of him I haue no dout.
Than send the Lord out throw the Land,
And gat ane hundreth hors fra hand.
To his presence he brocht in haist,
And bad the Squyer cheis him the best.
Of that the Squyer was rejoisit,
And cheisit the best, as he suppoisit,

156

And lap on him delyuerlie.
Was neuer hors ran mair plesantlie,
With Speir and sword at his command,
And was the best of all the Land.
He tuik his leif, and went to rest,
Syne, airlie in the morne him drest,
Wantonlie, in his weirlyke weid,
All weill enarmit, saif the heid.
He lap vpon his Cursour wicht,
And straucht him in his stirroppis richt.
His speir, and scheild, & helme wes borne
With Squyeris that raid him beforne.
Ane veluot Cap on heid he bair,
Ane quoif of gold, to heild his hair.
This Lord of him tuik sa greit Ioy,
That he him self wald him conuoy,
With him ane hundreth men of Armes,
That thair suld no man do him harmes.
The Squyer buir, into his scheild,
Ane Otter in ane siluer Feild.
His hors was bairdit full richelie,
Couerit with Satyne Cramesie.
Than fordward raid this Campioun,
With sound of Trumpet and Clarioun,
And spedilie spurrit ouir the bent,
Lyke Mars, the God Armipotent.
Thus leif we rydand our Squyar,
And speik of Maister Talbart mair;
Quhilk gat vp airlie, in the morrow,
And no maner of geir to borrow,
Hors, Harnes, Speir, nor Scheild,
Bot was ay reddie for the Feild;
And had sic practik into weir,
Of our Squyer he tuik na feir.
And said vnto his companȝeoun,
Or he come furth of his Pauilȝeoun,
This nicht I saw, into my dreame,
Quhilk to reheirs I think greit shame;

157

Me thocht I saw cum, fra the See,
Ane greit Otter, rydand to me,
The quhilk was blak, with ane lang taill,
And cruellie did me assaill,
And bait me till he gart me bleid,
And drew me backwart fra my steid.
Quhat this suld mene I can not say;
Bot I was neuer in sic ane fray.
His fellow said, think ȝe not schame
For to gif credence till ane dreame?
Ȝe knaw it is aganis our Faith.
Thairfoir go dres ȝow in ȝour graith,
And think weill, throw ȝour hie courage
This day ȝe sall wyn vassalage.
Than drest he him into his geir,
Wantounlie, like ane Man of weir,
Quhilk had baith hardines and fors,
And lichtlie lap vpon his hors.
His hors was bairdit full brauelie,
And couerit wes, richt courtfullie,
With browderit wark and veluot grene.
Sanct Georges Croce thair micht be sene,
On Hors, Harnes, and all his geir.
Than raid he furth, withouttin weir,
Conuoyit with his Capitane,
And with monie ane Inglisman,
Arrayit all with Armes bricht:
Micht no man see ane fairer sicht.

Than clariounis and trumpettis blew,
And weiriouris monie hither drew.
On euerie side come monie Man,
To behald quha the Battell wan.
The feild wes in the Medow grene,
Quhair euerie man micht weill be sene.
The Heraldis put thame sa in ordour,
That no man passit within the bordour,
Nor preissit to cum within the grene,
Bot Heraldis and the Campiounis kene.

158

The ordour and the circumstance
Wer lang to put in remembrance.
Quhen thir twa nobill Men of weir
Wer weill accowterit in thair geir,
And in thair handis strang burdounis,
Than Trumpotis blew & Clariounis,
And Heraldis cryit hie on hicht,
Now let thame go. God shaw the richt.
Than spedilie thay spurrit thair hors,
And ran to vther with sic fors
That baith thair speiris in sindrie flaw.
Than said they all, that stude on raw,
Ane better cours than they twa ran,
Was not sene sen the warld began.
Than baith the parties wer rejoisit:
The Campiounis ane quhyle repoisit,
Till thay had gottin speiris new.
Than with triumph the trumpettis blew,
And they, with all the force thay can,
Wounder rudelie at aither ran,
And straik at vther with sa greit Ire,
That fra thair Harnes flew the Fyre.
Thair Speiris war sa teuch & strang,
That aither vther to Eirth doun dang:
Baith hors & man, with Speir and scheild,
Than flatlingis lay into the feild.
Than Maister Talbart was eschamit:
Forsuith, for euer I am defamit.
And said this, I had rather die,
Without that I reuengit be.
Our ȝoung Squyer, sic was his hap,
Was first on fute; and on he lap
Upon his hors, without support.
Of that the Scottis tuke gude comfort,
Quhen thay saw him sa feirelie
Loup on his Hors sa galȝeardlie.
The Squyer liftit his Uisair
Ane lytill space, to take the Air.

159

Thay bad him wyne; and he it drank,
And humillie he did thame thank.
Be that, Talbart on Hors [was] mountit,
And of our Squyer lytill countit,
And cryit, gif he durst vndertak
To ryn anis for his Ladies saik.
The Squyer answerit hie on hicht,
That sall I do, be Marie bricht.
I am content all day to ryn,
Till ane of vs the honour wyn.
Of that Talbart was weill content,
And ane greit Speir in hand he hent.
The Squyer in his hand he thrang
His Speir, quhilk was baith greit & lang,
With ane sharp heid of grundin steill,
Of quhilk he was appleisit weill.
That plesand Feild was lang and braid,
Quhair gay ordour and rowme was maid,
And euerie man micht haue gude sicht,
And thair was monie weirlyke Knicht.
Sum man of euerie Natioun
Was in that Congregatioun.
Than Trumpettis blew triumphantlie,
And thay twa Campiounis egeirlie
Thay spurrit thair hors, with speir on breist,
Pertlie to preif thair pith thay preist.
That round, rinkroume wes at vtterance,
Bot Talbartis Hors, with ane mischance,
He outterit, and to ryn was laith,
Quhairof Talbart was wonder wraith.
The Squyer furth his rink he ran,
Commendit weill with euerie man,
And him dischargit of his speir,
Honestlie lyke ane Man of Weir.
Becaus that rink thay ran in vane,
Than Talbart wald not ryn agane,
Till he had gottin ane better steid,
Quhilk was brocht to him with gude speid,

160

Quhairon he lap, and tuik his speir,
As brym as he had bene ane Beir,
And bowtit fordwart, with ane bend,
And ran on to the Rinkis end,
And saw his hors was at command.
Than wes he blyith, I vnderstand,
Traistand na mair to ryn in vane.
Than all the Trumpettis blew agane:
Be that, with all the force they can,
Thay richt rudelie at vther ran.
Of that meiting ilk man thocht wounder,
Quhilk soundit lyke ane crak of thunder,
And nane of thame thair marrow mist.
Sir Talbartis speir in sunder brist,
Bot the Squyer, with his burdoun,
Sir Talbart to the eirth dang doun.
That straik was with sic micht and fors,
That on the ground lay man and hors;
And throw the brydell hand him bair,
And in the breist ane span and mair,
Throw curras, and throw gluifis of plait,
That Talbart micht mak na debait.
The trencheour of the Squyeris speir
Stak still into Sir Talbartis Geir.
Than euerie man, into that steid,
Did all beleue that he was deid.
The Squyer lap richt haistelie
From his Cursour, deliuerlie,
And to Sir Talbart maid support,
And humillie did him comfort.
Quhen Talbart saw, into his Scheild,
Ane Otter in ane siluer Feild,
This race (said he) I may sair rew,
For I see weill my dreame wes trew.
Me thocht ȝone Otter gart me bleid,
And buir me backwart from my steid.
Bot heir I vow to God Souerane,
That I sall neuer Iust agane.

161

And sweitlie to the Squyer said,
Thow knawis the cunning that we maid,
Quhilk of vs twa suld tyne the Feild
He suld baith Hors and Armour ȝeild
Till him that wan: quhairfoir, I will
My Hors and Harnes geue the till.
Than said the Squyer, Courteouslie,
Brother, I thank ȝow hartfullie.
Of ȝow, forsuith, nathing I craue,
For I haue gottin that I wald haue.
With euerie man he was commendit,
Sa vailȝeandlie he him defendit.
The Capitane of the Inglis band
Tuke the ȝoung Squyer be the hand,
And led him to the Pailȝeoun,
And gart him mak Collatioun.
Quhen Talbartis woundis wes bund vp fast,
The Inglis Capitane to him past,
And prudentlie did him comfort:
Syne said, Brother, I ȝow exhort
To tak the Squyer be the hand.
And sa he did, at his command,
And said, this bene bot chance of Armes.
With that, he braisit him in his armes,
Sayand, hartlie I ȝow forgeue.
And than the Squyer tuik his leue,
Commendit weill with euerie man.
Than wichtlie on his hors he wan,
With monie ane Nobill man conuoyit.
Leue we thair Talbart, sair annoyit.
Sum sayis, of that discomfitour
He thocht sic schame and dishonour,
That he departit of that Land,
And neuer wes sene into Ingland.
Bot our Squyer did still remane,
Efter the Weir, quhill Peice was tane.
All Capitanes of the Kingis Gairdis
Gaif to the Squyer riche rewairdis:

162

Becaus he had sa weill debaitit,
With euerie Nobill he wes weill traitit.
Efter the Weir he tuke licence;
Syne did returne, with diligence,
From Pycardie to Normandie;
And thair ane space remanit he,
Becaus the Nauie of Scotland
Wes still vpon the Coist lyand.

Quhen he ane quhyle had sojornit,
He to the Court of France returnit,
For to decore his vassalege;
From Bartanȝe tuke his veyage,
With aucht scoir, in his companie,
Of waillit wicht men and hardie,
Enarmit weill, lyke men of Weir,
With Hakbut, Culuering, Pik, and Speir;
And passit vp throw Normandie,
Till Ambiance in Pycardie,
Quhair Nobill Lowes, the King of France,
Wes lyand with his Ordinance,
With monie ane Prince and worthie man.
And in the Court of France wes, than,
Ane meruellous Congregatioun
Of monie ane diuers Natioun:
Of Ingland monie ane prudent Lord,
Efter the Weir makand record.
Thair wes, than, ane Ambassadour,
Ane Lord, ane man of greit honour.
With him was monie Nobill Knicht
Of Scotland, to defend thair richt,
Quhilk guydit thame sa honestlie,
Inglismen had thame at inuie.
And purposit to mak thame cummer,
Becaus they wer of greiter number.
And sa, quhaireuer thay with thame met,
Upon the Scottis thay maid onset,
And, lyke wyld Lyounis furious,
Thay layd ane seige about the hous,

163

Thame to destroy, sa thay intendit.
Our worthie Scottis thame weill defendit.
The Sutheroun wes ay fywe for ane;
Sa, on ilk syde, thair wes men slane.
The Inglismen grew in greit Ire,
And cryit, swyith, set the hous in fyre.
Be that, the Squyer Meldrum
Into the Market streit wes cum,
With his folkis in gude array,
And saw the toun wes in ane fray.
He did inquyre the occasioun.
(Quod thay) the Scottis ar all put doun
Be Inglismen into thair Innis.
(Quod he) I wald gif all the Bynnis,
That I micht cum or thay departit.
With that, he grew sa cruell hartit,
That he was like ane wyld Lyoun,
And rudelie ran outthrow the toun,
With all his companie weill arrayit,
And with Baner full braid displayit.
And, quhen thay saw the Inglis rout,
Thay set vpon thame, with ane schout.
With reird sa rudelie on thame ruschit,
That fiftie to the eirth thay duschit.
Thair was nocht ellis bot tak and slay.
This Squyer wounder did, that day,
And stoutlie stoppit in the stour,
And dang on thame with dintis dour.
Wes neuer man buir better hand:
Thair micht na Buckler byde his brand;
For it was weill seuin quarter lang.
With that sa derflie on thame dang,
That, lyke ane worthie Campioun,
Ay at ane straik he dang ane doun.
Sum wes euill hurt, and sum wes slane;
Sum fell, quhilk rais not ȝit agane.
Quhen that the Sutheroun saw his micht,
Effrayitlie thay tuke the flicht,

164

And wist not quhair to flie, for haist.
Thus throw the toun he hes thame chaist.
Wer not Frenchemen come to the redding,
Thair had bene mekill mair blude shedding.

Of this journey I mak ane end,
Quhilk euerie Nobill did commend.
Quhen to the King the cace wes knawin,
And all the suith vnto him shawin,
How this Squyer sa manfullie
On Sutheroun wan the victorie,
He put him into ordinance.
And sa he did remane in France,
Ane certane tyme, for his plesour,
Weill estemit in greit honour,
Quhair he did monie ane Nobill deid.
With that, richt wantoun in his weid,
Quhen Ladies knew his hie courage,
He was desyrit in Mariage
Be ane Ladie of greit Rent.
Bot ȝouth maid him sa insolent,
That he in France wald not remane,
Bot come to Scotland hame agane.
Thocht Frenche Ladies did for him murne,
The Scottis wer glaid of his returne.
At euerie Lord he tuke his leue;
Bot his departing did thame greiue;
For he was luifit with all wichtis,
Quhilk had him sene defend his richtis.
Scottis Capitanes did him conuoy,
Thocht his departing did thame noy,
At Deip he maid him for the saill,
Quhair he furnischit ane gay veschaill,
For his self and his Men of Weir,
With Artailȝie, Hakbut, Bow, and Speir,
And furneist hir with gude victuaill,
With the best wyne that he culd waill.
And quhen the Schip was reddie maid,
He lay bot ane day in the raid,

165

Quhill he gat wind of the Southeist.
Than thay thair ankeris weyit on haist,
And syne maid Saill, and fordwart past,
Ane day, at morne: till, at the last,
Of ane greit saill thay gat ane sicht,
And Phœbus schew his bemis bricht,
Into the morning richt airlie.
Than past the Skipper, richt spedelie,
Up to the top, with richt greit feir,
And saw it wes ane Man of Weir,
And cryit, I see nocht ellis, perdie,
Bot we mon outher fecht or fle.
The Squyer wes in his bed lyand,
Quhen he hard tell this new tydand.
Be this, the Inglis Artailȝe,
Lyke hailschot, maid on thame assailȝe,
And sloppit throw thair fechting saillis,
And diuers dang out ouir the waillis.
The Scottis agane, with all thair micht
Of gunnis, than thay leit fle ane flicht.
That thay micht weill see quhair they wair,
Heidis and armes flew in the Air.
The Scottis Schip scho wes sa law,
That monie gunnis out ouir hir flaw,
Quhilk far beȝond thame lichtit doun.
Bot the Inglis greit Galȝeoun
Fornent thame stude, lyke ane strang castell,
That the Scottis gunnis micht na way faill,
Bot hat hir ay on the richt syde,
With monie ane slop, for all hir pryde,
That monie ane beft wer on thair bakkis.
Than rais the reik with vglie crakkis,
Quhilk on the Sey maid sic ane sound,
That in the Air it did redound,
That men micht weill wit on the land,
That shippis wer on the Sey fechtand.
Be this, the Gyder straik the shippis,
And ather on vther laid thair clippis;

166

And than began the strang battell.
Ilk man his marrow did assaill:
Sa rudelie thay did rushe togidder,
That nane micht hald thair feit for slidder:
Sum with halbert, and sum with speir,
Bot hakbuttis did the greitest deir.
Out of the top the grundin dartis
Did diuers peirs outthrow the hartis.
Euerie man did his diligence
Upon his fo to wirk vengence,
Ruschand on vther routtis rude,
That ouir the waillis ran the blude.
The Inglis Capitane cryit hie,
Swyith, ȝeild ȝow, doggis, or ȝe sall die;
And, do ȝe not, I mak ane vow,
That Scotland salbe quyte of ȝow.
Than peirtlie answerit the Squyar,
And said, O tratour Tauernar,
I lat the wit, thow hes na micht
This day to put vs to the flicht.
Thay derflie ay at vther dang:
The Squyer thristit throw the thrang,
And in the Inglis schip he lap,
And hat the Capitane sic ane flap
Upon his heid till he fell doun,
Welterand intill ane deidlie swoun.
And, quhen the Scottis saw the Squyer
Had strikkin doun that rank Reuer,
They left thair awin schip standand waist,
And in the Inglis schip, in haist,
They followit, all, thair Capitane:
And sone wes all the Sutheroun slane.
Howbeit thay wer of greiter number,
The Scottismen put thame in sic cummer,
That thay wer fane to leif the Feild,
Cryand, mercie, than did thame ȝeild.
Ȝit wes the Squyer straikand fast
At the Capitane; till, at the last,

167

Quhen he persauit no remeid,
Outher to ȝeild, or to be deid,
He said, O gentill Capitane,
Thoill me not for to be slane.
My lyfe to ȝow salbe mair pryse
Nor sall my deith, ane thowsand syse.
For ȝe may get, as I suppois,
Thrie thowsand Nobillis of the Rois
Of me and of my companie:
Thairfoir, I cry ȝow loud mercie.
Except my lyfe, nothing I craif:
Tak ȝow the schip and all the laif.
I ȝeild to ȝow baith sword and knyfe:
Thairfoir, gude Maister, saue my Lyfe.
The Squyer tuik him be the hand,
And on his feit he gart him stand,
And treittit him richt tenderly,
And syne vnto his men did cry,
And gaif to thame richt strait command,
To straik no moir, bot hald thair hand.
Than baith the Capitanes ran and red;
And so thair wes na mair blude shed.
Than all the laif thay did thame ȝeild,
And to the Scottis gaif sword and sheild.
Ane Nobill Leiche the Squyer had,
Quhairof the Inglismen wes full glaid,
To quhome the Squyer gaif command
The woundit men to tak on hand.
And so he did, with diligence,
Quhairof he gat gude recompence.
Than, quhen the woundit men wer drest,
And all the deand men confest,
And deid men cassin in the See,
Quhilk to behald wes greit pietie,
Thair was slane, of [the] Inglis band,
Fyue scoir of men, I vnderstand,
The quhilk wer cruell men and kene,
And of the Scottis wer slane fyftene.

168

And quhen the Inglis Capitane
Saw how his men wer tane and slane,
And how the Scottis, sa few in number,
Had put thame in sa greit ane cummer,
He grew intill ane frenesy,
Sayand, fals Fortoun, I the defy:
For I beleuit, this day at morne,
That he was not in Scotland borne,
That durst haue met me, hand for hand,
Within the boundis of my brand.
The Squyer bad him mak gude cheir,
And said, it wes bot chance of Weir.
Greit Conquerouris, I ȝow assure,
Hes hapnit siclike aduenture:
Thairfoir, mak mirrie, and go dyne,
And let vs preif the michtie wyne.
Sum drank wyne, and sum drank Aill,
Syne put the shippis vnder saill,
And waillit furth of the Inglis band
Twa hundreth men, and put on land,
Quyetlie, on the Coist of Kent:
The laif in Scotland with him went.
The Inglis Capitane, as I ges,
He wairdit him in the Blaknes,
And treitit him richt honestlie,
Togither with his companie,
And held thame in that Garnisoun,
Till thay had payit thair Ransoun.

Out throw the land than sprang the fame,
That Squyer Meldrum wes cum hame.
Quhen thay hard tell how he debaitit,
With euerie man he was sa treitit,
That, quhen he trauellit throw the land,
Thay bankettit him fra hand to hand,
With greit solace: till, at the last,
Out throw Straitherne the Squyer past.
And, as it did approch the nicht,
Of ane Castell he gat ane sicht,

169

Beside ane Montane, in ane vaill:
And than, efter his greit trauaill,
He purpoisit him to repois,
Quhair ilk man did of him rejois.
Of this triumphant plesand place
Ane lustie Ladie wes Maistres,
Quhais Lord was deid schort tyme befoir,
Quhairthrow hir dolour wes the moir.
Bot ȝit scho tuke sum comforting,
To heir the plesant dulce talking
Of this ȝoung Squyer, of his chance,
And how it fortunit him in France.
This Squyer and the Ladie gent
Did wesche, and then to supper went.
During that nicht thair was nocht ellis
Bot for to heir of his Nouellis.
Eneas, quhen he fled from Troy,
Did not Quene Dido greiter Ioy,
Quhen he in Carthage did arryue,
And did the seige of Troy discryue.
The wonderis that he did reheirs
Wer langsum for to put in vers,
Of quhilk this Ladie did rejois.
Thay drank, and syne went to repois.
He fand his Chalmer weill arrayit
With dornik work on buird displayit.
Of Uenisoun he had his waill,
Gude Aquavite, Wyne, and Aill,
With nobill Confeittis, Bran, and Geill;
And swa the Squyer fuir richt weill.
Sa, to heir mair of his narratioun,
This Ladie come to his Collatioun,
Sayand he was richt welcum hame.
Grandmercie than (quod he) Madame.
Thay past the time with Ches and Tabill;
For he to euerie game was abill.
Than vnto bed drew euerie wicht:
To Chalmer went this Ladie bricht,

170

The quhilk this Squyer did conuoy.
Syne, till his bed he went, with Ioy.
That nicht he sleipit neuer ane wink,
Bot still did on the Ladie think;
Cupido, with his fyrie dart,
Did peirs him so out throw the hart.
Sa all that nicht he did bot murnit,
Sum tyme sat vp, and sumtyme turnit,
Sichand with monie gant and grane,
To fair Venus makand his mane,
Sayand, Ladie, quhat may this mene?
I was ane fre man lait ȝistrene,
And now ane catiue bound and thrall
For ane that I think Flour of all.

I pray God sen scho knew my mynd,
How, for hir saik, I am sa pynd.
Wald God I had bene ȝit in France,
Or I had hapnit sic mischance,
To be subject or seruiture
Till ane quhilk takis of me na cure.
This Ladie ludgit neirhand by,
And hard the Squyer priuely,
With dreidfull hart, makand his mone,
With monie cairfull gant and grone.
Hir hart fulfillit with pietie,
Thocht scho wald haif of him mercie,
And said, howbeit I suld be slane,
He sall haue lufe for lufe agane.
Wald God I micht, with my honour,
Haue him to be my Paramour.
This wes the mirrie tyme of May,
Quhen this fair Ladie, freshe and gay,
Start vp, to take the hailsum Air,
With pantonis on hir feit ane pair,
Airlie into ane cleir morning,
Befoir fair Phœbus vprysing,
Kirtill alone, withouttin Clok,
And saw the Squyeris dure vnlok.

171

Scho slippit in, or euer he wist,
And fenȝeitlie past till ane kist,
And with hir keyis oppinnit the Lokkis,
And maid hir to take furth ane Boxe:
Bot that was not hir erand thair.
With that, this lustie ȝoung Squyar
Saw this Ladie so plesantlie
Cum to his Chalmer quyetlie,
In Kyrtill of fyne Damais broun,
Hir goldin traissis hingand doun.
Hir Pappis wer hard, round, and quhyte,
Quhome to behald wes greit delyte.
Lyke the quhyte lyllie wes hir lyre;
Hir hair was like the reid gold wyre;
Hir schankis quhyte withouttin hois,
Quhairat the Squyer did rejois.
And said than, now, vailȝe quod vailȝe,
Upon the Ladie thow mak ane sailȝe.
Hir Courlyke Kirtill was vnlaist,
And sone into his armis hir braist,
And said to hir; Madame, gude-morne;
Help me, ȝour man that is forlorne.
Without ȝe mak me sum remeid,
Withouttin dout I am bot deid;
Quhairfoir, ȝe mon releif my harmes.
With that, he hint hir in his armes,
And talkit with hir on the flure;
Syne, quyetlie did bar the dure.
Squyer (quod scho) quhat is ȝour will?
Think ȝe my womanheid to spill?
Na, God forbid, it wer greit syn;
My Lord and ȝe wes neir of Kyn.
Quhairfoir, I mak ȝow supplicatioun,
Pas, and seik ane dispensatioun;
Than sall I wed ȝow with ane Ring;
Than may ȝe leif at ȝour lyking.
For ȝe ar ȝoung, lustie, and fair,
And als ȝe ar ȝour Fatheris Air.

172

Thair is na Ladie, in all this land,
May ȝow refuse to hir Husband;
And gif ȝe lufe me as ȝe say,
Haist to dispens the best ȝe may;
And thair to ȝow I geue my hand,
I sall ȝow take to my Husband.
(Quod he) quhill that I may indure,
I vow to be ȝour seruiture;
Bot I think greit vexatioun
To tarie vpon dispensatioun.
Than in his armis he did hir thrist,
And aither vther sweitlie kist,
And wame for wame thay vther braissit;
With that, hir Kirtill wes vnlaissit.
Than Cupido, with his fyrie dartis,
Inflammit sa thir Luiferis hartis,
Thay micht na maner of way disseuer,
Nor ane micht not part fra ane vther;
Bot, like wodbind, thay wer baith wrappit.
Thair tenderlie he hes hir happit,
Full softlie vp, intill his Bed.
Iudge ȝe gif he hir schankis shed.
Allace (quod scho) quhat may this mene?
And with hir hair scho dicht hir Ene.

I can not tell how thay did play;
Bot I beleue scho said not nay.
He pleisit hir sa, as I hard sane,
That he was welcum ay agane.
Scho rais, and tenderlie him kist,
And on his hand ane Ring scho thrist;
And he gaif hir ane lufe drowrie,
Ane Ring set with ane riche Rubie,
In takin that thair Lufe for euer
Suld neuer frome thir twa disseuer.
And than scho passit vnto hir Chalmer,
And fand hir madinnis, sweit as Lammer,
Sleipand full sound; and nothing wist
How that thair Ladie past to the Kist.

173

(Quod thay) Madame, quhair haue ȝe bene?
(Quod scho) into my Gardine grene,
To heir thir mirrie birdis sang.
I lat ȝow wit, I thocht not lang,
Thocht I had taryit thair quhill None.
(Quod thai) quhair wes ȝour hois & schone?
Quhy ȝeid ȝe with ȝour bellie bair?
(Quod scho) the morning wes sa fair:
For, be him that deir Iesus sauld,
I felt na wayis ony maner of cauld.
(Quod thay) Madame, me think ȝe sweit.
(Quod scho) ȝe see I sufferit heit;
The dew did sa on flouris fleit,
That baith my Lymmis ar maid weit:
Thairfoir ane quhyle I will heir ly,
Till this dulce dew be fra me dry.
Ryse, and gar mak our denner reddie.
That salbe done (quod thay) my Ladie.
Efter that scho had tane hir rest,
Scho rais, and in hir Chalmer hir drest,
And, efter Mes, to denner went.
Than wes the Squyer diligent
To declair monie sindrie storie
Worthie to put in Memorie.

Quhat sall we of thir Luiferis say,
Bot, all this tyme of lustie May,
They past the tyme with Ioy and blis,
Full quyetlie, with monie ane kis.
Thair was na Creature that knew
Ȝit of thir Luiferis Chalmer glew.
And sa he leuit, plesandlie,
Ane certane time, with his Ladie;
Sum time with halking and hunting,
Sum time with wantoun hors rinning,
And sum time like ane man of weir,
Full galȝardlie wald ryn ane speir.
He wan the pryse abone thame all,
Baith at the Buttis and the Futeball.

174

Till euerie solace he was abill,
At cartis, and dyce, at Ches, and tabill:
And, gif ȝe list, I sall ȝow tell,
How that he seigit ane Castell.
Ane Messinger come spedilie,
From the Lennox to that Ladie,
And schew [hir] how that Makfagon,
And with him monie bauld Baron,
Hir Castell [he] had tane perfors,
And nouther left hir kow nor hors,
And heryit all that land about;
Quhairof the Ladie had greit dout.
Till hir Squyer scho passit in haist,
And schew him how scho wes opprest,
And how he waistit monie ane myle,
Betuix Dunbartane and Argyle.
And, quhen the Squyer Meldrum
Had hard thir Nouellis, all and sum,
Intill his hart thair grew sic Ire,
That all his bodie brint in fyre;
And swoir it suld be full deir sald,
Gif he micht find him in that hald.
He and his men did them addres,
Richt haistelie, in thair Harnes;
Sum with bow, and sum with speir,
And he, like Mars, the God of weir,
Come to the Ladie, and tuke his leif.
And scho gaif him hir richt hand gluif,
The quhilk he on his basnet bure.
And said, Madame, I ȝow assure,
That worthie Lancelot du laik
Did neuer mair, for his Ladies saik,
Nor I sall do, or ellis de,
Without that ȝe reuengit be.
Than in hir armes scho him braist,
And he his leif did take in haist,
And raid that day, and all the nicht,
Till, on the morne, he gat ane sicht

175

Of that Castell, baith fair and strang.
Than, in the middis, his men amang,
To michtie Mars his vow he maid,
That he suld neuer in hart be glaid,
Nor ȝit returne furth of that land,
Quhill that strenth wer at his command.
All the Tennentis of that Ladie
Come to the Squyer haistelie,
And maid aith of fidelitie,
That they suld neuer fra him flie.
Quhen to Makferland, wicht and bauld,
The veritie all haill wes tauld,
How the ȝoung Squyer Meldrum
Wes now into the Cuntrie cum,
Purpoisand to seige that place,
Than vittaillit he thar Fortres,
And swoir he suld that place defend,
Bauldlie, vntill his lyfis end.
Be this, the Squyer wes arrayit,
With his Baner bricht displayit,
With culuering, hakbut, bow, and speir.
Of Makfarland he tuke na feir,
And, like ane Campioun courageous,
He cryit and said, gif ouir the hous.
The Capitane answerit, heichly,
And said, tratour, we the defy:
We sall remane this hous within,
Into despyte of all thy kyn.
With that, the Archeris, bauld and wicht,
Of braid arrowis let fle ane flicht
Amang the Squyeris companie;
And thay, agane, richt manfullie,
With Hakbute, Bow, and Culueryne,
Quhilk put Makferlandis men to pyne;
And on thair colleris laid full sikker.
And thair began ane bailfull bikker.
Thair was bot schot and schot agane,
Till, on ilk side, thair wes men slane.

176

Than cryit the Squyer couragious,
Swyith, lay the ledderis to the hous.
And sa thay did, and clam, belyfe,
As busie Beis dois to thair hyfe.
Howbeit thair wes slane monie man,
Ȝit wichtlie ouir the wallis they wan.
The Squyer, formest of them all,
Plantit the Baner ouir the wall.
And than began the mortall fray:
Thair wes not ellis bot tak and slay.
Than Makferland, that maid the prais,
From time he saw the Squyeris face,
Upon his kneis he did him ȝeild,
Deliuerand him baith speir and scheild.
The Squyer hartlie him ressauit,
Commandand that he suld be sauit;
And sa did slaik that mortall feid,
Sa that na man wes put to deid.
In fre waird was Makferland seisit,
And leit the laif gang quhair they pleisit.
And sa this Squyer amorous
Seigit and wan the Ladies hous,
And left thairin ane Capitane:
Syne, to Stratherne returnit agane,
Quhair that he with his fair Ladie
Ressauit wes full plesantlie,
And to tak rest did him conuoy.
Iudge ȝe gif thair wes mirth and Ioy.
Howbeit the Chalmer dure wes cloisit,
They did bot kis, as I suppois it:
Gif vther thing wes them betwene,
Let them discouer that Luiferis bene:
For I am not in Lufe expart,
And neuer studyit in that art.

Thus they remainit in merines,
Beleifand neuer to haue distres.
In that meine time, this Ladie fair
Ane douchter to the Squyer bair:

177

Nane fund wes fairer of visage.
Than tuke the Squyer sic courage,
Agane the mirrie time of May,
Threttie he put in his Luferay,
In Scarlot fyne, and of hew grene,
Quhilk wes ane semelie sicht to sene.

The gentilmen, in all that land,
Wer glaid with him to mak ane band.
And he wald plainelie tak thair partis,
And not desyring bot thair hartis.
Thus leuit the Squyer plesandlie,
With Musick and with Menstralie.
Of this Ladie he wes sa glaid,
Thair micht na sorrow mak him sad:
Ilk ane did vther consolatioun,
Taryand vpon dispensatioun.
Had it cum hame, he had hir bruikit,
Bot, or it come, it wes miscuikit:
And all this game he bocht full deir,
As ȝe at lenth sall efter heir.

Of warldlie Ioy it is weill kend,
That sorrow bene the fatall end;
For Ielousie and fals Inuie
Did him persew richt cruellie;
I meruell not thocht it be so,
For they wer euer Luiferis fo:
Quhairthrow he stude in monie ane stour,
And ay defendit his honour.

Ane cruell Knicht dwelt neir hand by,
Quhilk at this Squyer had Inuy,
Imaginand, intill his hart,
How he thir Luiferis micht depart,
And wald haue had hir maryand
Ane gentilman, within his land,
The quhilk to him wes not in blude:
Bot, finallie for to conclude,
Thairto scho wald neuer assent.
Quhairfoir the Knicht set his Intent

178

This nobill Squyer for to destroy,
And swore he suld neuer haue Ioy
In till his hart, without remeid,
Till ane of thame wer left for deid.
This vailȝeand Squyer, manfully,
In ernist or play did him defy,
Offerand him self for to assaill,
Bodie for bodie, in battaill.
The Knicht thairto not condiscendit,
Bot to betrais him ay intendit.

Sa it fell, anis vpon ane day,
In Edinburgh, as I hard say,
This Squyer and the Ladie trew
Was thair, just matteris to persew.
That cruell Knicht, full of Inuy,
Gart hald on them ane secreit Spy,
Quhen thaj suld pas furth of the toun,
For this Squyeris confusioun,
Quhilk traistit no man suld him greiue,
Nor of tressoun had no beleiue.
And tuik his licence from his Oist,
And liberallie did pay his Coist,
And sa departit, blyith and mirrie,
With purpois to pas ouir the Ferrie.
He wes bot auchtsum in his rout;
For of danger he had no dout.
The Spy come to the Knicht, anone,
And him informit how they wer gone.
Than gadderit he his men in hy,
With thrie scoir in his company,
Accowterit weill in feir of weir,
Sum with bow, and sum with speir,
And on the Squyer followit fast,
Till thay did see him, at the last,
With all his men richt weill arrayit,
With cruell men nathing effrayit.
And quhen the Ladie saw the rout,
God wait gif scho stude in greit dout.

179

(Quod scho) ȝour enemeis I see;
Thairfoir, sweit hart, I reid ȝow fle.
In the cuntrey I will be kend;
Ȝe ar na partie to defend.
Ȝe knaw ȝone Knichtis crueltie,
That in his hart hes no mercie.
It is bot ane that thay wald haue;
Thairfoir, deir hart, ȝour self ȝe saue.
Howbeit thay tak me with this trane,
I salbe sone at ȝow agane:
For ȝe war neuer sa hard staid.
Madame (quod he) be ȝe not raid;
For, be the halie Trinitie,
This day ane fute I will not fle.
And, be he had endit this word,
He drew ane lang twa handit sword,
And put his aucht men in array,
And bad that thay suld tak na fray.
Than to the Squyer cryit the Knicht,
And said, send me the Ladie bricht.
Do ȝe not sa, be Goddis Croce,
I sall hir tak away perforce.
The Squyer said, be thow ane Knicht,
Cum furth to me, and shaw the richt,
Bot hand for hand, without redding,
That thair be na mair blude shedding:
And gif thow winnis me in the feild,
I sall my Ladie to the ȝeild.
The Knicht durst not, for all his land,
Fecht with this Squyer hand for hand.
The Squyer than saw no remeid,
Bot outher to fecht or to be deid.
To heuin he liftit vp his visage,
Cryand to God, with hie courage,
To the my querrell I do commend:
Syne, bowtit fordwart, with ane bend.
With countenance baith bauld and stout,
He rudelie rushit in that rout;

180

With him, his litill companie,
Quhilk them defendit manfullie.
The Squyer, with his birneist brand,
Amang his fa men maid sic hand,
That Gaudefer, as sayis the Letter,
At Gadderis Ferrie faucht no better.
His sword he swappit sa about,
That he greit roum maid in the rout;
And like ane man that was dispairit,
His wapoun sa on thame he wairit,
Quhome euer he hit, as I hard say,
Thay did him na mair deir, that day.
Quha euer come within his boundis,
He chaipit not but mortall woundis.
Sum mutilate wer, and sum wer slane,
Sum fled, and come not ȝit agane.
He hat the Knicht abone the breis,
That he fell fordwart on his kneis:
Wer not Thome Giffard did him saue,
The Knicht had sone bene in his graue.
Bot than the Squyer, with his brand,
Hat Thomas Giffard on the hand:
From that time furth, during his lyfe,
He neuer weildit sword nor knyfe.
Than come ane sort, as brim as beiris,
And in him festnit fyftene speiris,
In purpois to haue borne him doun.
Bot he, as forcie Campioun,
Amang thai wicht men wrocht greit wounder;
For all thai speiris he schure in sunder.
Nane durst cum neir him, hand for hand,
Within the boundis of his brand.
This worthie Squyer courageous
Micht be compairit to Tydeus,
Quhilk faucht for to defend his Richtis,
And slew of Thebes fyftie Knichtis.
Rolland, with Brandwell, his bricht brand,
Faucht neuer better, hand for hand,

181

Nor Gawin, aganis Golibras,
Nor Olyuer, with Pharambras.
I wait he faucht, that day, als weill
As did Sir Gryme aganis Graysteill.
And I dar say, he was als abill
As onie Knicht of the round Tabill,
And did his honour mair auance
Nor onie of thay Knichtis, perchance;
The quhilk I offer me to preif,
Gif that ȝe pleis, Sirs, with ȝour leif.

Amang thay Knichts wes maid ane band,
That they suld fecht bot hand for hand,
Assurit that thair suld cum no mo.
With this Squyer it stude not so;
His stalwart stour quha wald discryfe,
Aganis ane man thair come, ay, fyfe.
Quhen that this cruell tyrane Knicht
Saw the Squyer sa wounder wicht,
And had no micht him to destroy,
Into his hart thair grew sic noy,
That he was abill for to rage,
That no man micht his Ire asswage.
Fy on vs, said he to his men;
Ay aganis ane, sen we ar ten,
Chaip he away, we ar eschamit;
Like cowartis, we salbe defamit.
I had rather be in hellis pane,
Or he suld chaip fra vs vnslane.
And callit thrie of his companie,
Said: pas behind him, quyetlie.
And sa thay did, richt secreitlie,
And come behind him, cowartlie,
And hackit on his hochis and theis,
Till that he fell vpon his kneis.
Ȝit, quhen his schankis wer schorne in sunder,
Upon his kneis he wrocht greit wounder,
Sweipand his sword round about,
Not haifand of the deith na dout.

182

Durst nane approche within his boundis,
Till that his cruell mortall woundis
Bled sa, that he did swap in swoun;
Perforce behuifit him, than, fall doun.
And, quhen he lay vpon the ground,
They gaif him monie cruell wound,
That men on far micht heir the knokkis,
Like boucheouris hakkand on thair stokk[i]s.
And finallie, without remeid,
They left him lyand thair for deid,
With ma woundis of sword and knyfe
Nor euer had man that keipit lyfe.
Quhat suld I of thir tratouris say?
Quhen they had done, they fled away.
Bot than this lustie ladie fair,
With dolent hart, scho maid sic cair,
Quhilk wes greit pietie for to reheirs,
And langsum for to put in vers.
With teiris scho wuische his bludie face,
Sichand with manie loud allace.
Allace, quod scho, that I was borne:
In my querrell thow art forlorne.
Sall neuer man, efter this hour,
Of my bodie haue mair plesour:
For thow was gem of gentilnes,
And werie well of worthines.
Than to the eirth scho rushit doun,
And lay intill ane deidlie swoun.
Be that, the Regent of the land
Fra Edinburgh come fast rydand.
Sir Anthonie Darsie wes his name,
Ane Knicht of France, and man of fame,
Quhilk had the guiding, haillilie,
Under Iohne, Duke of Albanie,
Quhilk wes to our ȝoung King Tutour,
And of all Scotland Gouernour.
Our King was bot fyue ȝeiris of age,
That time quhen done wes the outrage.

183

Quhen this gude Knicht the Squyer saw,
Thus lyand in till his deid thraw,
Wo is me (quod he) to see this sicht
On the, quhilk worthie wes and wicht.
Wald God that I had bene with the,
As thow in France was anis with me,
Into the land of Picardy,
Quhair Inglis men had greit Inuy
To haue me slane, sa they intendit;
Bot manfullie thow me defendit,
And vailȝeandlie did saue my lyfe.
Was neuer man, with sword nor knyfe,
Nocht Hercules I dar weill say,
That euer faucht better for ane day.
Defendand me within ane stound,
Thow dang seir Sutheroun to the ground.
I may the mak no help, allace,
Bot I sall follow on the chace,
Richt spedilie, baith day and nicht,
Till I may get that cruell Knicht.
I mak ane vow, gif I may get him,
In till ane Presoun I sall set him,
And, quhen I heir that thow beis deid,
Than sall my handis straik of his heid.
With that, he gaue his hors the spurris,
And spedelie flaw ouir the furris.
He and his Gaird, with all thair micht,
They ran, till thaj ouirtuik the Knicht.
Quhen he approchit, he lichtit doun,
And, like ane vailȝeand Campioun,
He tuik the Tyrane presonar,
And send him backward to Dumbar;
And thar remainit in presoun,
Ane certane time, in that Dungeoun.
Let him ly thair, with mekill cair,
And speik we of our heynd Squyar,
Of quhome we can not speik bot gude.
Quhen he lay bathand in his blude,

184

His freindis and his Ladie fair
They maid for him sic dule and cair,
Quhilk wer greit pietie to deploir:
Of that matter I speik no moir.
Thay send for Leiches, haistelie,
Syne buir his bodie, tenderlie,
To ludge into ane fair ludgyne,
Quhair he ressauit medicyne.
The greitest Leichis of the land
Come all to him without command,
And all practikis on him prouit,
Becaus he was sa weill belouit.
Thay tuik on hand his life to saue,
And he thame gaif quhat they wald haue.
Bot he sa lang lay into pane,
He turnit to be ane Chirurgiane,
And als, be his naturall ingyne,
He lernit the Art of Medicyne.
He saw thame on his bodie wrocht,
Quhairfoir the Science wes deir bocht.
Bot efterward, quhen he was haill,
He spairit na coist, nor ȝit trauaill,
To preif his practikis on the pure,
And on thame preuit monie ane cure,
On his expensis, without rewaird:
Of Money he tuik na regaird.

Ȝit sum thing will we commoun mair
Of this Ladie, quhilk maid greit cair,
Quhilk to the Squyer wes mair pane
Nor all his woundis, in certane.
And than hir freindis did conclude,
Becaus scho micht do him na gude,
That scho suld take hir leif and go
Till hir cuntrie; and scho did so.
Bot thir luiferis met neuer agane,
Quhilk wes to thame ane lestand pane;
For scho, aganis hir will, wes maryit,
Quhairthrow hir weird scho daylie waryit.

185

Howbeit hir bodie wes absent,
Hir tender hart wes ay present,
Baith nicht and day, with hir Squyar.
Wes neuer Creature that maid sic cair:
Penelope for Ulisses,
I wait, had neuer mair distres;
Nor Cresseid for trew Troylus
Wes not tent part sa dolorous.
I wait it wes aganis hir hart
That scho did from hir Lufe depart.
Helene had not sa mekill noy,
Quhen scho perforce wes brocht to Troy.
I leif hir, than, with hart full sore,
And speik now of this Squyer more.

Quhen this Squyer wes haill & sound,
And softlie micht gang on the ground,
To the Regent he did complane;
Bot he, allace, wes richt sone slane
Be Dauid Hume, of Wedderburne,
The quhilk gart monie Frenchemen murne,
For thair was nane mair nobill Knicht,
Mair vailȝeand, mair wyse, mair wicht.
And, sone efter that crueltie,
The Knicht was put to libertie,
The quhilk the Squyer had opprest:
Sa wes his matter left vndrest.
Becaus the King was ȝoung of age,
Than tyrannis rang, into thair rage.
Bot, efterward, as I hard say,
On Striuiling brig, vpon ane day,
This Knicht wes slane with crueltie,
And that day gat na mair mercie
Nor he gaif to the ȝoung Squyar.
I say na mair; let him ly thair.
For cruell men, ȝe may weill see,
They end, ofttimes, with crueltie.
For Christ to Peter said this word,
Quha euer straikis with ane sword,

186

That man salbe with ane sword slane:
That saw is suith, I tell ȝow plane.
He menis, quha straikis cruellie,
Aganis the Law, without mercie.
Bot this Squyer to nane offendit,
Bot manfullie him self defendit.
Wes neuer man, with sword nor knyfe,
Micht saif thair honour and thair lyfe,
As did the Squyer all his dayis,
With monie terribill effrayis.
Wald I at lenth his lyfe declair,
I micht weill writ ane vther quair.
Bot at this time I may not mend it,
Bot shaw ȝow how the Squyer endit.

Thair dwelt in Fyfe ane agit Lord,
That of this Squyer hard record,
And did desire, richt hartfullie,
To haue him in his companie;
And send for him with diligence.
And he come with obedience,
And lang time did with him remane,
Of quhome this agit Lord was fane.
Wyse men desiris, commounlie,
Wyse men into thair companie;
For he had bene in monie ane Land,
In Flanderis, France, and in Ingland,
Quhairfoir the Lord gaif him the cure
Of his houshald, I ȝow assure,
And, in his Hall, cheif Merschall,
And auditour of his comptis all.
He was ane richt Courticiane,
And in the Law ane Practiciane;
Quhairfoir, during this Lordis lyfe,
Tchyref depute he wes in Fyfe;
To euerie man ane equall Iudge,
And of the pure he wes refuge,
And with Iustice did thame support,
And curit thair sairis with greit comfort;

187

For, as I did reheirs before,
Of Medicine he tuke the Lore.
Quhen he saw the Chirurgience
Upon him do thair diligence,
Experience maid him perfyte,
And of the Science tuke sic delyte,
That he did monie thriftie cure,
And speciallie vpon the pure,
Without rewaird for his expensis,
Without regaird or recompencis.
To gold, to siluer, or to rent,
This Nobill Squyer tuke litill tent.
Of all this warld na mair he craifit,
Sa that his honour micht be saifit.
And ilk ȝeir for his Ladies saik,
Ane Banket Royall wald he maik.
And that he maid on the Sonday
Precedand to Aschwednisday,
With wyld foull, venisoun, and wyne,
With tairt, and flam, and frutage fyne.
Of Bran and Geill thair wes na skant,
And Ipocras he wald not want.
I haue sene sittand at his Tabill,
Lordis and Lairdis honorabill,
With Knichtis & monie ane gay Squyar,
Quhilk wer to lang for to declair,
With mirth, Musick, and menstrallie.
All this he did for his Ladie,
And, for hir saik, during his lyfe
Wald neuer be weddit to ane wyfe.
And quhen he did declyne to age,
He faillit neuer of his courage.
Of ancient storyis for to tell,
Abone all vther he did precell;
Sa that euerilk Creature
To heir him speik thay tuke plesure.
Bot all his deidis honorabill
For to descryue I am not abill.

188

Of euerie man he was commendit,
And, as he leiuit, sa he endit,
Plesandlie, till he micht indure,
Till dolent deith come to his dure,
And cruellie, with his mortall dart,
He straik the Squyer throw the hart.
His saull, with Ioy Angelicall,
Past to the Heuin Imperiall.
Thus, at the Struther, into Fyfe,
This nobill Squyer loist his lyfe.
I pray to Christ for to conuoy
All sic trew Luiferis to his Ioy.
Say ȝe Amen, for Cheritie.
Adew, ȝe sall get na mair of me.

FINIS.

THE TESTAMENT OF THE NOBILL AND VAILȜEAND SQUYER WILLIAME MELDRUM OF THE BYNNIS. COMPYLIT BE SIR DAUID LYNDESAY OF THE MONT. &C.

The Holie man Iob, ground of pacience,
In his greit trubill trewlie did report,
Quhilk I persaue now be Experience,
That mennis lyfe in eirth bene wounder short.
My ȝouth is gane, and eild now dois resort:
My time is gane; I think it bot ane dreame:
Ȝit efter deith remane sall my gude fame.

I persaue shortlie that I man pay my det:
To me in eirth no place bene permanent:
My hart on it no mair now will I set,

189

Bot with the help of God omnipotent,
With resolute mind, go mak my Testament,
And tak my leif at cuntriemen and kyn,
And all the warld: and thus I will begyn.

Thrie Lordis to me salbe Executouris,
Lindesayis all thrie, in surname of renoun.
Of my Testament thay sall haue hail the cure,
To put my mind till executioun.
That Surname failȝeit neuer to the Croun;
Na mair will thay to me, I am richt sure,
Quhilk is the caus that I giue them the cure.

First, Dauid, Erll of Craufuird, wise & wicht;
And Iohne, Lord Lindesay, my maister special.
The thrid salbe ane nobill trauellit Knicht,
Quhilk knawis the coistis of Feistis funeral:
The wise Sir Walter Lindesay they him cal,
Lord of S. Iohne, and Knicht of Torfichane,
Be sey and land ane vailȝeand Capitane.

Thocht age hes maid my bodie impotent,
Ȝit in my hart hie courage doeth precell;
Quhairfoir I leif to God, with gude intent,
My spreit, the quhilk he hes maid immortell,
Intill his Court perpetuallie to dwell,
And neuir moir to steir furth of that steid,
Till Christ discend & judge baith quick & deid.

I ȝow beseik, my Lordis Executouris,
My geir geue till the nixt of my kynrent,
It is weill kend, I neuer tuik na cures
Of conquessing of riches nor of Rent:
Dispone as ȝe think maist expedient.
I neuer tuik cure of gold more than of glas.
Without honour, fy, fy vpon Riches.

190

I ȝow requeist, my freindis, ane and all,
And nobill men, of quhome I am descendit,
Faill not to be at my feist funerall,
Quhilk throw the warld, I traist, salbe commendit.
Ȝe knaw how that my fame I haue defendit,
During my life, vnto this latter hour,
Quhilk suld to ȝow be infinit plesour.

First, of my Bowellis clenge my bodie clene,
Within & out; syne, wesche it weill with wyne,
Bot honestie see that nothing be sene;
Syne clois it in ane coistlie caruit schryne
Of Ceder treis, or of Cyper fyne.
Anoynt my corps with Balme delicious,
With Cynamome, and Spycis precious.

In twa caissis of gold and precious stanis
Inclois my hart and toung, richt craftelie:
My sepulture, syne, gar mak for my banis,
Into the Tempill of Mars, triumphandlie,
Of marbill stanis caruit richt curiouslie,
Quhairin my Kist and banis ȝe sall clois,
In that triumphand Tempill to repois.

Mars, Uenus, and Mercurius, all thre
Gaue me my natural inclinatiounis,
Quhilk rang the day of my natiuitie;
And sa thair heuinlie constellatiounis
Did me support in monie Natiounis.
Mars maid me hardie like ane feirs lyoun,
Quhairthrow I conqueist honour & renoun.

Quho list to knaw the actis Bellical,
Let thame go reid the legend of my life.
Thair sall thai find the deidis martiall,
How I haue stand, in monie stalwart strife,
Uictoriouslie, with speir, sheild, sword, & knife;
Quhairfoir to Mars, the God Armipotent,
My corps incloisit ȝe do till him present.

191

Mak offering of my toung Rhetoricall
Till Mercurius, quhilk gaif me eloquence,
In his Tempill to hing perpetuall:
I can mak him na better recompence;
For, quhen I was brocht to the presence
Of Kings, in Scotland, Ingland, & in France,
My ornate toung my honour did auance.

To fresche Uenus my hart ȝe sall present,
Quhilk hes to me bene ay comfortabill;
And in my face sic grace scho did imprent,
All creatures did think me amiabill.
Wemen to me scho maid sa fauorabill,
Wes neuer Ladie that luikit in my face,
Bot honestlie I did obtene hir grace.

My freind Sir Dauid Lyndsay of the Mont
Sall put in ordour my Processioun.
I will that thair pas formest in the front,
To beir my Penseil, ane wicht Campioun.
With him, ane band of Mars his Religioun,
That is to say, in steid of Monkis & Freiris,
In gude ordour, ane thowsand hagbutteris.

Nixt them, ane thowsand futemen in ane rout,
With speir & sheild, with buckler, bow, & brand,
In ane Luferay, ȝoung stalwart men & stout.
Thridlie, in ordour, thair sall cum ane band
Of nobill men, abill to wraik thair Harmes,
Thair Capitane with my standart in his hand,
On bairdit hors, ane hundreth men of Armes.

Amang that band my baner salbe borne,
Of siluer schene thrie Otteris into sabill,
With tabroun, trumpet, clarioun, and horne,
For men of Armes verie conuenabill.
Nixt efter them, ane Campioun honorabill
Sall beir my basnet with my funerall;
Syne efter him, in ordour triumphall,

192

My arming sword, my gluifis of plait, & sheild,
Borne be ane forcie Campioun, or ane Knicht
Quhilk did me serue in monie dangerous feild:
Nixt efter him, ane man in armour bricht,
Upon ane Ionet or ane cursour wicht,
The quhilk salbe ane man of greit honour,
Upon ane speir to beir my coit armour.

Syne, nixt my Beir, sall cum my Corspresent,
My bairdit hors, my harnes, and my speir,
With sum greit man of my awin kynrent,
As I wes wont on my bodie to beir,
During my time, quhen I went to the weir,
Quhilk salbe offerit, with ane gay garment,
To Mars his Preist, at my Interrement.

Duill weidis I think hypocrisie & scorne,
With huidis heklit doun ouirthort thair ene.
With men of armes my bodie salbe borne;
Into that band see that no blak be sene.
My Luferay salbe reid, blew, and grene;
The reid for Mars, the grene for freshe Venus,
The blew for lufe of God Mercurius.

About my beir sall ryde ane multitude,
All of ane Luiferay of my cullouris thrie;
Erles and Lordis, Knichtis, and men of gude,
Ilk Barroun beirand in his hand, on hie,
Ane Lawrer branche, in signe of victorie,
Becaus I fled neuer out of the feild,
Nor ȝit, as presoner, vnto my fois me ȝeild.

Agane, that day, faill not to warne and call
All Men of Musick and of Menstrallie
About my Beir, with mirthis Musicall,
To dance and sing with Heuinlie harmonie,
Quhais plesant sound redound sall in the skye.
My spreit, I wait, salbe with mirth & Ioy;
Quhairfoir, with mirth my corps ȝe sal conuoy.

193

This beand done, and all thing reulit richt,
Than plesantlie mak ȝour progressioun,
Quhilk, I beleif, salbe ane plesant sicht.
Se that ȝe thoill na Preist in my Processioun,
Without he be of Uenus Professioun;
Quhairfoir, gar warne all venus chapel clarks,
Quhilk hes bene most exercit in hir warkis.

With ane Bischop of that Religioun,
Solemnitlie gar thame sing my saull mes,
With organe, Timpane, Trumpet, & Clarion,
To shaw thair Musick dewlie them addres.
I will that day be hard no heuines.
I will na seruice of the Requiem,
Bot Alleluya, with melodie and Game.

Efter the Euangell and the Offertour,
Throw all the Tempill gar proclame silence.
Than to the Pulpet gar ane Oratour
Pas vp, and schaw, in oppin audience,
Solempnitlie, with ornate eloquence,
At greit laser, the legend of my life;
How I haue stand in monie stalwart strife.

Quhen he hes red my buik fra end till end,
And of my life maid trew narratioun,
All creature, I wait, will me commend,
And pray to God for my saluatioun.
Than, efter this Solempniȝatioun
Of seruice, and all brocht to end,
With grauitie, than, with my bodie wend,

And clois it vp into my Sepulture,
Thair to repois till the greit Iudgement,
The quhilk may not corrupt, I ȝow assure,
Be vertew of the precious oyntment
Of Balme, and vther Spyces redolent.
Let not be rung for me, that day, saull knellis,
Bot greit Cannounis gar them crak, for bellis

194

Ane thousand hakbuttis gar schute al at anis,
With swesche, talburnis, & trumpettis, awfullie.
Lat neuer spair the poulder nor the stanis,
Quhais thundring sound redound sall in the sky,
That mars may heir, quhair he, triumphandlie,
Abone Phebus is situate, full euin,
Maist awfull God vnder the sternie heuin.

And syne, hing vp, aboue my sepulture,
My bricht harnes, my scheild, & als my speir,
Togidder with my courtlie Coit armour,
Quhilk I wes wont vpon my bodie beir,
In France, in Ingland, being at the weir,
My Baner, Basnet, with my Temperall,
As bene the vse of feistis funerall.

This beand done, I pray ȝow tak the pane
My Epitaphe to writ, vpon this wyis,
Abone my graue, in goldin letteris fyne:
The maist inuincibill weiriour heir lyis,
During his time quhilk wan sic laud & pryis,
That throw the heuinis sprang his nobil fame;
Uictorious William Meldrum wes his name.

Adew, my Lordis, I may na langer tarie.
My Lord Lindesay, adew, abone all vther.
I pray to God, and to the Uirgine Marie,
With ȝour Lady to leif lang in the Struther.
Maister Patrik, with ȝoung Normond, ȝour brother,
With my Ladies, ȝour sisteris, al adew.
My departing, I wait weill, ȝe will rew.

Bot, maist of all, the fair Ladies of France,
Quhen thai heir tell, but dout, that I am deid,
Extreme dolour wil change thair countenance,
And, for my saik, will weir the murning weid.
Quhen thir nouellis dois into Ingland spreid,
Of Londoun, than, the lustie ladies cleir
Will, for my saik, mak dule and drerie cheir.

195

Of Craigfergus my dayis darling, adew,
In all Ireland of feminine the flour.
In ȝour querrell twa men of weir I slew,
Quhilk purposit to do ȝow dishonour.
Ȝe suld haue bene my spous and paramour,
With Rent and riches for my recompence.
Quhilk I refusit, throw ȝouth and insolence.

Fair weill, ȝe Lemant Lampis of lustines
Of fair Scotland: adew, my Ladies all.
During my ȝouth, with ardent besines,
Ȝe knaw how I was in ȝour seruice thrall.
Ten thowsand times adew, aboue thame all,
Sterne of Stratherne, my Ladie Souerane,
For quhom I sched my blud with mekill pane.

Ȝit, wald my Ladie luke, at euin and morrow,
On my Legend at lenth, scho wald not mis
How, for hir saik, I sufferit mekill sorrow.
Ȝit, giue I micht at this time get my wis,
Of hir sweit mouth, deir God, I had ane kis.
I wis in vane: allace, we will disseuer.
I say na mair: sweit hart, adew for euer.

Brether in Armes, adew, in generall.
For me, I wait, ȝour hartis bene full soir.
All trew companȝeounis, into speciall,
I say to ȝow adew for euermoir,
Till that we meit agane with God in Gloir.
Sir Curat, now gif me, incontinent,
My Crysme, with the holie Sacrament.

My Spreit hartlie I recommend
In manus tuas, Domine.
My hoip to the is till ascend,
Rex, quia redemisti me.

196

Fra Syn Resurrexisti me,
Or ellis my saull had bene forlorne:
With Sapience docuisti me;
Blist be the hour that thow wes borne.

FINIS.

198

ANE DIALOG BETUIX EXPERIENCE AND ANE COURTEOUR, OFF THE MISERABYLL ESTAIT OF THE WARLD.

[_]

Compylit be Schir Dauid Lyndesay of ye Mont Knycht alias, Lyone Kyng of Armes. And is Deuidit in Foure Partis. As efter Followis. .&c. And Imprentit at the Command and Expensis off Doctor, MACHABEUS In Copmanhouin. Absit Gloriari, Nisi in Cruce Domini nostri Iesu Christi.

THE EPISTIL TO THE REDAR.

Thov Lytil quair of mater miserabyll,
Weil auchtest thou, couerit to be with sabyl,
Renunceand grene, the purpur, reid, & quhit.
To delicat men thou art nocht delectabyll,
Nor ȝit tyll amorous folkis amiabyll:
To reid on the, thai wyll haf no delite.
Warldlye Peple wyll haue at the dispyte,
Quhilk fyxit hes thare hart and hole intentis
On sensuall Luste, on Dignitie, and Rentis.

We haue no Kyng, the to present, allace.
Quhilk to this countre bene ane cairfull cace:
And als our Quene, of Scotland Heretour,
Sche dwellith in France; I pray God saif hir grace.
It war to lang, for the to ryn that race,
And far langar, or that ȝoung tender flour
Bryng home tyll ws ane Kyng and Gouernour.
Allace, tharefor, we may with sorrow syng,
Quhilk moste so lang remane without one kyng.

199

I nott quhome to thy Simpylnes to sende.
With Cunnyng Men, frome tyme that thou be kende,
Thy Vaniteis no waye thay wyll aduance,
Thynkand the proude, sic thyngis to pretende.
Nochtwithstanding, the straucht way sal thou wende
To thame quhilk hes the realme in gouernance.
Declare thy mynde to thame, with circumstance.
Go first tyll Iames, our Prince, and Protectour,
And his Brother, our Spirituall Gouernour,

And Prince of Preistis in this Natioun.
Efter Reuerend Recommendatioun,
Under thare feit thow lawlye the submyt,
And mak thame humyll supplicatioun,
Geue thay in the fynd wrang Narratioun,
That thay wald pleis thy faltis to remyt:
And of thare grace, geue thay do the admyt,
Than go thy waye quhare euer thow plesis best:
Be thay content, mak reuerence to the rest.

To faithfull Prudent Pastouris Spirituall,
To Nobyll Erlis, and Lordis Temporall,
Obedientlye tyll thame thow the addres,
Declaryng thame this schort memoriall,
Quhow Mankynd bene to miserie maid thrall.
At lenth to thame the cause planelie confesse,
Beseikand thame all lawis to suppresse
Inuentit be Mennis Traditioun,
Contrar to Christis Institutioun.

And cause thame cleirlye for tyll vnderstand
That, for the brekyng of the Lordis command,
His Thrynfald wande of Flagellatioun
Hes Scurgit this pure Realme of Scotland,
Be mortall weris, baith be sey and land,
With mony terrabyll trybulatioun.

Re. xxiiii. & The. .ii.

Tharefor mak to thame trew narratioun,
That al thir weris, this derth, hunger, and Pest
Was nocht bot for our Synnis manefest.

i. Cor. iii.

200

Gene. vii.

Declare to thame quhow, in the tyme of Noye,
Alluterlye, God did the warld distroye,
As Holy Scripture maketh mentioun;

Gene. xix.

Sodom, Gomor, with thare Regioun and Roye,
God sparit nothir Man, Woman, nor Boye;
Bot all wer brynt for thare offentioun.

Matthew xxiii.

Iherusalem, that moste tryumphant town,
Distroyit wes for thare Iniquytie,

Luc. xiii.

As in the Scripture planelye thay may se.

Declare to thame this mortall miserie,
Be sweird and fyre, derth, pest, and pouertie,

Iere. xv.

Procedis of Syn, gyf I can rycht discryue,
For laik of Faith, and for Ydolatrye,
For Fornicatioun, and for Adultrye,
Off Princis, Prelatis, with mony ane man & wyue.
Expell the cause, than the effect belyue
Sall cease: quhen that the peple doith repent,
Than God sall slak his bow, quhilk ȝit is bent.

Mak thaim requeist, quhilk hes the Gouernance,
The Sinceir word of God for tyll Auance,
Conforme to Christis Institutioun,
Without Ypocrisie or dissimulance;
Causyng Iustice hauld ewinlye the Ballance;
On Publicanis makyng punyssioun;
Commendyng thame of gude conditioun.
That beyng done, I dout nocht bot the Lorde
Sall of this countre haue Misericorde.

Thoucht God with mony terrabyll effrayis
Hes done this cuntrie scurge by diuers wayis,
Be Iuste Iugement, for our greuous offence,
Declare to thame thay sall haue mery dayis
Efter this trubyll, as the Propheit sayis:
Quhen God sall se our humyll Repentence,
Tyll strange pepyll thoucht he hes geuin lycence
To be our scurge Induryng his desyre,
Wyll, quhen he lyste, that Scurge cast in the fyre.

201

Pray thame that thay putt nocht thare esperance
In mortall Men onelye, thame tyll aduance,
Bot principallye in God Omnipotent.

Psalme c.xvii.

Than neid thai not to charge the realme of France
With Gounnis, Galayis, nor vther Ordinance.
So that thay be to God Obedient,
In thir promyssis be thay nocht negligent,
Displayand Christis Banar hie on heycht,
Thare Ennimeis of thame sall haue no mycht.

Go hence, pure Buke, quhilk I haue done indyte
In rurall ryme, in maner of dispyte,
Contrar the warldlis Variatioun:
Off Rethorick heir I Proclame the quyte.
Idolatouris, I feir, sall with the flyte,
Because of thame thow makis Narratioun.
Bot cure thow nocht the Indignatioun
Off Hypocritis, and fals Pharisience,
Quhowbeit on the thay cry ane lowde vengence.

Requeist the Gentyll Redar that the redis,
Thocht Ornat termes in to thy park not spredis,
As thay in the may haue experience.
Thocht Barran feildis beris nocht bot weidis,
Ȝit brutall beistis sweitlye on thame feidis.
Desyre of thame none vther recompence
Bot that thay wald reid the with pacience;
And, geue thay be in ony way offendit,
Declare to thame it salbe weill amendit.

FINIS. HEIR ENDIS THE EPISTIL & FOLLOUIS THE PROLOGE. .&C.

202

THE PROLOGE.

Mvsing And maruelling on the miserie
Frome day to day in erth quhilk dois incres,
And of ilk stait the instabilitie
Proceding of the restles besynes
Quhairon the most part doith thair mynd addres
Inordinatlie, on houngrye couatyce,
Uaine glore, dissait, and vthir sensuall vyce,

Bot tumlyng In my bed I mycht nocht lye,
Quhairfore I fuir furth, in ane Maye mornyng,
Conforte to gett of my malancolye,
Sumquhat affore fresche Phebus vperysing,
Quhare I mycht heir the birdis sweitlie syng.
Intyll ane park I past, for my plesure,
Decorit weill be craft of dame Nature.

Quhov I ressauit confort naturall
For tyll discryue at lenth it war to lang;
Smelling the holsum herbis medicinall,
Quhare on the dulce and balmy dew down dang,
Lyke aurient peirles on the twistis hang;
Or quhov that the Aromatik odouris
Did proceid frome the tender fragrant flouris;

Or quhov Phebus, that king etheriall,
Swyftlie sprang vp in to the orient,
Ascending in his throne Imperiall,
Quhose brycht and buriall bemes resplendent
Illumynit all on to the Occident,
Confortand euerye corporall creature
Quhilk formit war in erth be dame Nature;

Quhose donke impurpurit vestiment nocturnall,
With his imbroudit mantyll matutyne,
He lefte in tyll his regioun aurorall,
Quhilk on hym watit quhen he did declyne
Towarte his occident palyce vespertyne,
And rose in habyte gaye and glorious,
Brychtar nor gold or stonis precious.

203

Bot Synthea, the hornit nychtis quene,
Scho loste hir lycht, and lede ane lawar saill,
Frome tyme hir souerane lorde that scho had sene,
And in his presens waxit dirk and paill,
And ouer hir visage kest ane mistye vaill;
So did Uenus, the goddes amorous,
With Iupiter, Mars, and Mercurius.

Rychtso the auld Intoxicat Saturne,
Persauyng Phebus powir, his beymes brycht,
Abufe the erth than maid he no sudgeourne,
Bot suddandlye did lose his borrowit lycht,
Quhilk he durst neuir schaw bot on the nycht.
The Pole artick, wrsis, and sterris all
Quhilk situate ar in the Septemtrionall,

Tyll errand schyppis quhilks ar the souer gyde,
Conuoyand thame, vpone the stromye nycht,
Within thare frostie circle, did thame hyde.
Howbeit that sterris haue none vthir lycht
Bot the reflex of Phebus bemes brycht,
That day durst none in to the heuin appeir,
Tyll he had circuit all our Hemispeir.

Me thocht it was ane sycht celestiall,
To sene Phebus so angellyke ascend
In tyll his fyrie chariot tryumphall,
Quhose bewte brycht I culd nocht comprehend.
All warldlie cure anone did fro me wend,
Quhen fresche flora spred furth hir tapestrie,
Wrocht be dame Nature, quent, and curiouslie.

Depaynt with mony hundreth heuinlie hewis,
Glaid of the rysing of thare royall Roye,
With blomes breckand on the tender bewis;
Quhilk did prouoke myne hart tyl natural Ioye.
Neptune, that day, and Eoll held thame coye,
That men on far mycht heir the birdis sounde,
Quhose noyis did to the sterrye heuin redounde;

204

The plesand Powne, prunȝeand his feddrem fair;
The myrthfull Maues maid gret melodie;
The lustye Lark ascending in the air,
Numerand hir naturall notis craftelye;
The gay Goldspink; the Merll rycht myrralye.
The noyis of the nobyll Nychtingalis
Redundit throuch the montans, meids, and valis.

Contempling this melodious armonye,
Quhov euerilke bird drest thame for tyl aduance,
To saluss Nature with thare melodye,
That I stude gasing, halflingis in ane trance,
To heir thame mak thare naturall obseruance
So royallie that all the roches rang
Throuch repercussioun of thare suggurit sang.

I lose my tyme, allace, for to rehers
Sick vnfrutful and vaine discriptioun,
Or wrytt, in to my raggit rurall vers,
Mater without edificatioun;
Consydering quhov that myne intentioun
Bene tyll deplore the mortall misereis,
With continuall, cairfull calamiteis

Consisting in this wracheit vaill of sorrow.
Bot sad sentence sulde haue ane sad indyte,
So termes brycht I lyste nocht for to borrow.
Off murnyng mater men hes no delyte:
With roustye termes, tharefor, wyl I wryte,
With sorrowful seychis ascending frome the splene,
And bitter teris distellyng frome myne eine,

Withoute ony vaine inuocatioun
To Minerua or to Melpominee.
Nor ȝitt wyll I mak supplicatioun,
For help, to Cleo nor Caliopee:
Sick marde Musis may mak me no supplee.
Proserpyne I refuse, and Apollo,
And rycht so Ewterp, Iupiter, and Iuno,

205

Quhilkis bene to plesand Poetis conforting.
Quharefor, because I am nocht one of tho,
I do desyre of thame no supporting.
For I did neuer sleip on Pernaso,
As did the Poetis of lang tyme ago,
And, speciallie, the ornate Ennius;
Nor drank I neuer, with Hysiodus,

Off Grece the perfyte poet souerane,
Off Hylicon, the sors of Eloquence,
Off that mellifluus, famous, fresche fontane:
Quharefor I awe to thame no reuerence.
I purpose nocht to mak obedience
To sic mischeand Musis nor malmontrye
Afore tyme vsit in to poetrye.

Raueand Rhammusia, goddes of dispyte,
Mycht be to me ane Muse rycht conuenabyll,
Gyff I desyrit sic help for tyll indyte
This murnyng mater, mad and miserabyll.
I mon go seik ane muse more confortabyl,
And sic vaine superstitioun to refuse,
Beseikand the gret God to be my muse,

Be quhose wysdome al maner of thing bene wrocht,

Genes. i.

The heych heuinnis, with all thair ornamentis,
And without mater maid all thing of nocht,
Hell in myd Centir of the Elementis.
That heuinlye Muse to seik my hole intent is,

iii. Re. iii.

The quhilk gaif sapience to king Salomone,

Psalme. lxxxix.

To Dauid grace, strenth to the strang Sampsone,

Iuges xiii.

And of pure Peter maid ane prudent precheour,

Mat. iiii.

And, be the power of his deitee,
Off creuell Paule he maid ane cunnyng techeour.

Actis. ix.

I mon beseik, rycht lawly on my knee,
His heych superexcellent Maiestie,
That with his heuinlye spreit he me inspyre
To wrytt no thyng contrarye his disyre.

206

Luc. i.

Beseikand als his Souerane Sonne, Iesu,
Quhilk wes consauit be the holy spreit,
Incarnat of the purifyit Uirgin trev,
In to the quhome the Prophicie was compleit,
That Prince of peace, moist humyll & mansweit,

Luc. xxiii.

Quhilk onder Pylate sufferit passioun,
Upone the Croce, for our saluatioun.

And be that creuell deith intollerabyll
Lowsit we wer frome bandis of Balyall;
And, mairattouir, it wes so proffitabyll
That to this hour come neuir man, nor sall,
To the tryumphant ioye Imperiall

Hebr. ix.

Off lyfe, quhowbeit that thay war neuer sa gude,
Bot be the vertew of that precious blude.

Quharefor, in steid of the mont Pernaso,
Swyftlie I sall go seik my Souerane.
To Mont Caluare the straucht waye mon I go,
To gett ane taist of that moist fresche fontane.
That sors to seik my hart may nocht refrane,
Off Hylicone, quhilk wes boith deip and wyde,

Iho. xix.

That Longeous did graue in tyll his syde.

From that fresche fontane sprang a famous flude,
Quhilk redolent Reuer throuch the warld ȝit rynnis,
As christall cleir, and mixit bene with blude;
Quhose sound abufe the heyest heuinnis dinnis,
All faithfull peple purgeing frome thare synnis.
Quharefor I sall beseik his Excellence
To grant me grace, wysedome, and Eloquence,

And bayth me with those dulce & balmy strandis
Quhilk on the Croce did spedalie out spryng,
Frome his moste tender feit and heuinly handis,
And grant me grace to wrytt nor dyte no thyng
Bot tyll his heych honour and loude louyng;
But quhose support thare may na gud be wrocht
Tyll his plesure, gude workis, word, nor thocht.

207

Tharefor, O Lorde, I pray thy Maiestie,
As thov did schaw thy heych power Diuyne
First planelie in the Cane of Galelee,
Quhare thov conuertit cauld watter in wyne,

Ihon. ii.

Conuoye my mater tyll ane fructuous fyne,
And saue my sayingis baith frome schame and syn.
Tak tent: for now I purpose to begyn.

FINIS. HEIR ENDIS THE PROLOGE, AND BEGINNIS THE MATER.

THE FIRST BVKE OF THE MONARCHE.

Into that Park I sawe appeir
One ageit man, quhilk drew me neir,
Quhose beird wes weil thre quarter[is] lang.
His hair doun ouer his schulders hang,
The quhilk as ony snaw wes quhyte;
Quhome to behald I thocht delyte.
His habitt Angellyke of hew,
Off culloure lyke the Sapheir blew.
Onder ane Hollyng he reposit,
Off quhose presens I was reiosit.
I did hym saluss reuerendlye;
So did he me, rycht courteslye.
To sitt down he requeistit me,
Onder the schaddow of that tre,
To saif me frome the Sonnis heit,
Amangis the flowris softe and sweit,
For I wes werye for walking.
Than we began to fall in talking:
I sperit his name with reuerence.

I am (said he) Experience.

208

COUR[TIOUR].
Than, Schir (said I) ȝe can nocht faill
To gyff ane desolate man counsaill.
Ȝe do appeir ane man of faime;
And, sen Experience bene ȝour name,
I praye ȝow, Father venerabyll,
Geue me sum counsell confortabyll.

EXPE[RIENCE].
Quhate bene (quod he) thy vocatioun,
Makand sic supplycatioun?

COUR[TIOUR].
I haif (quod I) bene, to this hour,
Sen I could ryde, one Courtiour.
Bot now, Father, I thynk it best,
With ȝour counsell, to leif in rest,
And frome thyne furth to tak myne eais,
And quyetlie my God to pleais,
And renunce Curiositie,
Leueyng the Court, and lerne to de.
Oft haue I salit ouer the strandis,
And traualit throuch diuers landis,
Boith south, and north, and est, and west;
Ȝitt can I neuer fynd quhare rest
Doith mak his habitatioun,
Withoute ȝour supportatioun.
Quhen I beleif to be best easit,
Most suddantlye I am displeasit;
Frome trubbyll quhen I fastast fle,
Than fynd I most aduersate.
Schaw me, I pray ȝow hartfullye,
Quhow I may leif most plesandlye,
To serue my God, of kyngis Kyng,
Sen I am tyrit for trauellyng.

209

And lerne me for to be content
Off quyet lyfe and sobir rent,
That I may thank the kyng of glore,
As thocht I had ane Mylȝeoun more.
Sen euerilk Court bene variant,
Full of Inuy, and inconstant,
Mycht I, but trubbyll, leif in rest
Now in my aige, I thynk it best.

EXPE[RIENCE].
Thow art ane gret fuill, Sonne (said he);
Thynk to desyre quhilk may nocht be,
Ȝarnyng to haue prerogatyue
Aboue all Creature on lyfe?
Sen Father Adam creat bene
In to the Campe of Damassene,
Mycht no man say, on to this hour,
That euer he fand perfyte plesour,
Nor neuer sall, tyll that he se
God in his Diuyne Maiestie:
Quharefore prepair the for trauell,
Sen mennis lyfe bene bot battell.

Job. vii.

All men begynnis for tyll de
The day of thare Natiuite,
And Iournelly thay do proceid
Tyll Atrops cute the fatell threid;
And, in the breif tyme that thay haue
Betuix thare byrth on to thare graue,
Thow seis quhat mutabiliteis,
Quhat miserabyll Calamiteis,
Quhat trubbyll, trauell, and debait
Seis thow in euere mortall stait.
Begyn at pure lawe Creaturis,
Ascending, syne, to Synaturis,
To gret Princis and Potestatis,
Thow sall nocht fynd, in non estatis,
Sen the begynning, gennerallie,

210

Nor in our tyme now, speciallie,
Bot tiddious, restles besynes,
But ony maner of sickarnes.

COUR[TIOUR].
Prudent Father (quod I) allace,
Ȝe tell to me one cairfull cace.
Ȝe say that no man, to this hour,
Hes found in erth perfyte plesour
Without infortunat variance.
Sen we bene thrall to sic myschance,
Quhy do we set so our Intentis
On Ryches, Dignitie, and Rentis?
Sen in the erth bene no man sure
One day but trubbyll tyll Indure;
And, werst of all, quhen we leist wene,
The creuell deith we mon sustene.
Geue I ȝour Fatherheid durste demand,
The cause I wald faine vnderstand.
And als, Father, I ȝow Implore,
Schaw me sum trubbyll gone afore,
That, heryng vtheris Indigence,
I may the more haif patience.
Marrowis in trybulatioun
Bene Wracheis consolatioun.

EXPE[RIENCE].
Quod he: efter my small cunnyng
To the I sall mak answeryng.
Bot, Ordourlie for to begyn,
This Misarie procedis of Syn.
Bot it wer lang for to defyn it
Quhow all men ar to Syn Inclynit.
Quhen Syn aboundantlye doith ryng,
Iustly God makith punyssing:
Quharefore gret God in to his handis,

211

To dant the warld, hes diuers wandis.
Efter our euyll conditioun
He makis on ws punytioun,
With hunger, darth, and Indigens;
Sum tyme, gret plagis and pestilens,
And sum tyme with his bludy wand,
Throw creuell weir be sey and land:
Concludyng, all our misarie
Proceidis of Syn, alluterlie.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) declare to me
The cause of this Fragyllitie,
That we bene all to Syn inclynde,
In werk, in word, and in our mynde.
I wald the veritie wer schawin,
Quho hes this seid amang ws sawin,
And quhy we ar condampnit to dede,
And quhow that we may get remede.

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) the Scripture hes concludit
Men frome felicitite wer denudit
Be Adam, our Progenitour,
Umquhyle of Paradyse possessour,

Gen. iii.

Be quhose most wylfull arrogance
Wes Mankynd brocht to this myschance.
Quhen he wes Inobedient,
In breking Godis commandiment.
Be solystatioun of his wyfe
He loste that heuinlye plesand lyfe.
Etand of the forbiddin tre,
Thare began all our miserrie.
So Adam wes cause Radicall

Rom. v.

That we bene fragyll Synnaris, all.

212

Adam brocht in this Natioun
Syn, Deith, and als Dampnatioun.

i Ioh. i.

Quho wyll say he is no Synnar,
Christ sayis he is ane gret lear.
Mankynde sprang furth of Adamis Loynis.
And tuke of hym flesche, blude, and bonis,
And so, efter his qualytie,
All ar Inclynit Synnaris to be.

Bot ȝit, my Sonne, dispare thow nocht;
For God, that all the warld hes wrocht,
Hes maid ane Souerane remede,
To saif ws boith frome syn and dede,
And frome etarne dampnatioun.
Tharefore tak consolatioun,
For God, as Scripture doith recorde,
Haueyng of man Misericorde
Send doun his onelye Sonne, Iesu,
Quhilk lychtit in one Uirgin trew,
And cled his heych Diuynitie
With our pure vyle Humanytie;
Syne frome our synnis, to conclude,

Apocal. ii.

He wysche ws with his precious blude.

Rom. v.

Quhowbeit throw Adam we mon dee,
Throuch that Lord we sall rasit bee,

Hebre. x.

And euerilk man he sall releue
Quhilk in his blude doith ferme beleue,
And bryng ws all vnto his glore,
The quhilk throw Adam bene forlore,
Without that we, throw laik of faith,
Off his Godheid incur the wraith.
But quho in Christ fermely beleuis

Ioh. iii. 5.

Sall be releuit frome all myscheuis.

COUR[TIOUR].
Quhat faith is that that ȝe call ferme?
Schir, gar me vnderstand that terme.

213

EXPE[RIENCE].
Faith without Hope and Charitie

Hebr. xi.

Aualit nocht, my Sonne (said he).

COUR[TIOUR].
Quhat Charite bene, that wald I knaw.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Quod he: my Sonne, that sall I schaw,
First, lufe thy God aboue all thyng,

1 Corin. xiii.

And thy Nychtbour but fenȝeyng.
Do none Iniure nor villanie,
Bot as thow wald wer done to the.
Quyk faith but cheretabyll werkis

Iaco. ii.

Can neuer be, as wryttis Clerkis,
More than the fyre, in tyll his mycht,
Can be but heit, nor Sonne but lycht.
Geue charitie in to the failis,
Thy Faith nor Hope no thyng auailis.
The Deuyll hes Faith, and trymlis for dreid,
Bot he wantis Hope and lufe in deid.
Do all the gude that may be wrocht,
But charitie, all auailis nocht.
Quharefore pray to the Trinite
For tyll support thy Charite.

Now haue I schawin the, as I can,
Quhow Father Adam, the first man,
Brocht in the warld boith Syn and Dede,
And quhow Christ Iesu maid remede,
Quhilk, on the day of Iugement,
Sall ws delyuer frome torment,
And bryng ws to his lestyng glore,
Quhilk sall indure for euer more.
Bot in this warld thow gettis no rest,
I mak it to the manifest.

214

Tharefore, my Sonne, be diligent,
And lerne for to be patient,
And in to God sett all thy traist:
All thyng sall than cum for the best.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, I thank ȝow hartfullye
Off ȝour conforte and cumpanye,
And heuinlye consolatioun;
Makand ȝow supplicatioun,
Geue I durst put ȝow to sic pyne,
That ȝe wald pleis for to defyne,
And gar me cleirlye vnderstand,
Quhow Adam brak the Lordis command,
And quhow, throw his transgressioun,
War punyst his Successioun.

EXPE[RIENCE].
My Sonne (quod he) wald thow tak cure
To luke on the Diuyne Scripture,
In to the Buke of Genesis
That storye thare thow sall nocht mis.
And alswa syndrie cunnyng Clerkis
Hes done rehers, in to thare werkis,
Off Adamis fall full Ornatly,
Ane thousand tymes better nor I
Can wrytt of that vnhappy man.
Bot I sall do the best I can,
Schortlie to schaw that cairfull cace,
With the support of Goddis grace.

215

ANE EXCLAMATIOUN TO THE REDAR, TWYCHEYNG THE WRYTTYNG OF UULGARE AND MATERNALL LANGUAGE.

Gentyl Redar, haif at me non dispyte,
Thynkand that I presumptuously pretend,
In vulgair toung, so heych mater to writ;
Bot quhair I mys I pray the till amend.
Tyll vnlernit I wald the cause wer kend
Off our most miserabyll trauell and torment,
And quhow, in erth, no place bene parmanent.

Quhowbeit that diuers deuote cunnyng Clerkis
In Latyne toung hes wryttin syndrie bukis,
Our vnlernit knawis lytill of thare werkis,
More than thay do the rauyng of the Rukis.
Quharefore to Colȝearis, Cairtaris, & to Cukis,
To Iok and Thome, my Ryme sall be diractit,
With cunnyng men quhowbeit it wylbe lactit.

Thocht euery Commoun may nocht be one Clerk,
Nor hes no Leid except thare toung maternall,
Quhy suld of god the maruellous heuinly werk
Be hid frome thame? I thynk it nocht fraternall.
The father of heuin, quhilk wes & is Eternall,
To Moyses gaif the Law, on mont Senay,

Exo. xx.

Nocht in to Greik nor Latyne, I heir say.

He wrait the Law, in Tablis hard of stone,
In thare awin vulgare language of Hebrew,
That all the bairnis of Israell, euery one,
Mycht knaw the law, and so the sam ensew.

216

Had he done wryt in Latyne or in Grew,
It had to thame bene bot ane sawrles Iest:
Ȝe may weill wytt God wrocht all for the best.

Arristotyll nor Plato, I heir sane,
Wrait nocht thare hie Philosophie naturall
In Duche, nor Dence, nor toung Italiane,
Bot in thare most ornate toung maternall,
Quhose fame and name doith ryng perpetuall.
Famous Uirgill, the Prince of Poetrie,
Nor Cicero, the flour of Oratrie,

Wrait nocht in Caldye language, nor in Grew,
Nor ȝit in to the language Saraȝene,
Nor in the naturall language of Hebrew,
Bot in the Romane toung, as may be sene,
Quhilk wes thair proper language, as I wene.
Quhen Romanis rang Dominatoris in deid,
The Ornat Latyne wes thare propir leid.

In the mene tyme, quhen that thir bauld Romance
Ouer all the warld had the Dominioun,
Maid Latyne Scolis, thare glore for tyll auance,
That thare language mycht be ouer all commoun,
To that intent, be my Opinioun,
Traistyng that thare Impyre sulde ay Indure:
Bot of fortune alway thay wer nocht sure.

Gene. xi.

Off Languagis the first Diuersytie
Wes maid be Goddis Maledictioun.
Quhen Babilone wes beildit in calde,
Those beildaris gat none vther afflictioun:
Affore the tyme of that punyssioun
Wes bot one toung, quhilk Adam spak hym self,
Quhare now of toungis thare bene thre score and twelf.

Nochtwithstandyng, I thynk it gret plesour,
Quhare cunnyng men hes languagis anew,

217

That, in thare ȝouth, be deligent laubour,
Hes leirnit Latyne, Greik, and ald Hebrew.
That I am nocht of that sorte sore I rew:
Quharefore I wald all bukis necessare
For our faith wer in tyll our toung vulgare.

Christ, efter his glorious Ascentioun,

Actis. ii.

Tyll his Disciplis send the holy Spreit
In toungis of fyre, to that intentioun,
Thay, beand of all languagis repleit,
Throuch all the warld, with wordis fair and sweit,
Tyll euery man the faith thay suld furth schaw
In thare awin leid, delyuerand thame the Law.

Tharefore I thynk one gret dirisioun
To heir thir Nunnis & Systeris nycht and day
Syngand and sayand psalmes and orisoun,
Nocht vnderstandyng quhat thay syng nor say,
Bot lyke one stirlyng or ane Papingay,
Quhilk leirnit ar to speik be lang vsage:
Thame I compair to byrdis in ane cage.

Rycht so Childreyng, and Ladyis of honouris,
Prayis in Latyne, to thame ane vncuth leid,
Mumland thair matynis, euinsang, & thare houris,
Thare Pater Noster, Aue, and thare Creid.
It wer als plesand to thare spreit, in deid,
God haue mercy on me, for to say thus,
As to say Miserere Mei, Deus.

Sanct Ierome in his propir toung Romane
The Law of God he trewlie did translait,
Out of Hebrew and Greik, in Latyne plane,
Quhilk has bene hid frome ws lang tyme, god wait,
Onto this tyme: bot, efter myne consait,
Had Sanct Ierome bene borne in tyll Argyle,
In to Yrische toung his bukis had done compyle.

218

1 Cor. xiiii.

Prudent sanct Paull doith mak narratioun
Twycheyng the diuers leid of euery land,
Sayand thare bene more edificatioun
In fyue wordis that folk doith vnderstand,
Nor to pronunce of wordis ten thousand
In strange langage, sine wait not quhat it menis:
I thynk sic pattryng is not worth twa prenis.

Unlernit peple, on the holy day,
Solemnitlye thay heir the Euangell soung,
Nocht knawyng quhat the preist dois sing nor say,
Bot as ane Bell quhen that thay heir it roung.
Ȝit, wald the Preistis in to thare mother toung
Pas to the Pulpitt, and that doctryne declare
Tyll lawid pepyll, it wer more necessare.

I wald Prelattis and Doctouris of the Law
With ws lawid peple wer nocht discontent,
Thocht we in to our vulgare toung did knaw
Off Christ Iesu the lyfe and Testament,
And quhow that we sulde keip commandiment.
Bot in our language lat ws pray and reid
Our Pater Noster, Aue, and our Creid.

I wald sum Prince of gret Discretioun
In vulgare language planelye gart translait
The neidfull lawis of this Regioun:
Than wald thare nocht be half so gret debait
Amang ws peple of the law estait.
Geue euery man the veryte did knaw,
We nedit nocht to treit thir men of law.

Tyll do our nychtbour wrang we wald be war,
Gyf we did feir the lawis punysment.
Thare wald nocht be sic brawlyng at the bar,
Nor men of law loup to sic royall rent.
To keip the law gyf all men war content,
And ilk man do as he wald be done to,
The Iugis wald get lytill thyng ado.

219

The Propheit Dauid, Kyng of Israell,
Compyld the plesand Psalmes of the Psaltair
In his awin propir toung, as I heir tell.
And Salamone, quhilk wes his sone and air,
Did mak his buke in tyll his toung vulgare.
Quhy suld nocht thare sayng be tyll ws schawin
In our language? I wald the cause wer knawin.

Lat Doctoris wrytt thare curious questionis,
And argumentis sawin full of Sophistrye,
Thare Logick, and thare heych Opinionis,
Thare dirk Iugementis of Astronomye,
Thare Medecyne, and thare Philosophye;
Latt Poetis schaw thare glorious Ingyne,
As euer thay pleis, in Greik or in Latyne;

Bot lat ws haif the bukis necessare
To commoun weill, and our Saluatioun,
Iustlye translatit in our toung Uulgare.
And als I mak the Supplicatioun,
O gentyll Redar, haif none Indignatioun,
Thynkand I mell me with so hie matair.
Now to my purpose fordwart wyll I fair.

FINIS.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE CREATIOUN OF ADAM AND EUE.

[EXPERIENCE.]

Qvhen God had maid the heuinis brycht,
The Sone & Mone for to geue lycht,
The sterry heuin & Christellyne,
And, be his Sapience diuyne,

Gene. i.

The planetis, in thair circlis round

220

Quhirling about with merie sound,
Off quhome Phebus was principall,
Iuste in his Lyne Eclipticall,
And gaue, be Diuyne Sapience,
Tyll euery Ster thare Influence,
With motioun continuall,
Quhilk doith indure perpetuall,
And, farrest frome the heuin Impyre,
The erth, the walter, air, and fyre,
He cled the erth with herbis and treis.
All kynd of fysches in the seis,
All kynd of best, he did prepair,
With fowlis fleyng in the air.
Thus, be his word all thyng was wrocht
Without materiall, maid of nocht.
So, be his wysedome Infinyte,
All wes maid plesand and perfyte.

Quhen heuin and erth, and thare contentis,
Wer endit, with thare Ornamentis,
Than, last of all, the Lord began
Off most vyle erth to mak the man.
Nocht of the Lille, nor the Rose,
Nor Syper tre, as I suppose,
Nother of gold, nor precious stonis,
Off erth he maid flesche, blude, and bonis.
To that intent God maid hym thus,
That man sulde nocht be glorious,
Nor in hym self no thyng suld se
Bot matere of humylite.
Quhen man wes maid, as I haue tald,

Gene. ii.

God in his face did hym behald,
Brathand in hym ane lyflie spreit.
Quhen all thir werkis wer compleit,
He maid man, to his simylitude,
Precelland in to pulchritude,
Dotit with gyftis of Nature
Aboue all erthlye creature;
Syne plesandlye did hym conuoye

221

To ane regioun repleit with Ioye,
Off all plesour quhilk bair the pryce,
And callit erthly Paradyce;
And brocht, be Diuyne prouience,
All beistis and byrdis tyll his presence.
Adam did craftelye Impone
Ane speciall name tyll euery one,
And to all thyngis materiall,
He namyt thame in speciall:
Quhow he thame namyt Ȝitt bene kend,
And salbe to the warldlis end.
In to that gardyng of plesance
Two treis grew, most tyll auance,
Aboue all vther quhilk bair the pryce,
In myddis of that Paradyce.
The one wes callit the tre of lyfe,
The vther tre began our stryfe,
The tre to knaw boith gude and euyll,
Quhilk, be perswatioun of the Deuyll,
Began our misarie and wo.
Bot lat ws to our purpose go,

Quhow God gaue Adam strait commande
That tre to twyche nocht with his hand.
All vther fructis of Paradyce
He bad hym eit at his deuyce,
Sayand, gyf thow eit of this tre,
With dowbyll deith than sall thow dee.
Tharefore I the command, be war,
And frome this tree thow stand afar.
Ȝitt Father Adam wes allone,
But cumpanye of ony one.
Than thocht the Lord it Necessare
Tyll hym to Creat ane helpare.

God patt in Adam sic Sapour
That for to sleip he tuke plesour,
And laid hym down apone the grounde.
And quhen Adam wes slepand sounde,
He tuke ane Rib furth of his syde,

222

Syne fyld it vp with flesche and hyde,
And maid ane Woman of that bone:
Fairar of forme wes neuer none.
Than tyll Adam Incontinent
That fair Lady he did present,
Quhilk schortlye said, for to conclude,
Thow art my flesche, my bonis, and blude.
And Uirago he callit hir, than,
Quhilk is, Interpreit, maid of man,
Quhilk Eua efterwart wes namyt,
Quhen, for hir falt, sche wes diffamyt.
Than did the Lord thame Sanctyfie,
Saying Incres and Multyplie.
Be this men suld leif all thare kyn,
And with thare Wyffis mak dwellyn,
And, for thare saik, leif Father and Mother,
And lufe thame best aboue all vther:
For God hes ordanit thame, trewlye,
To be two saulis in one bodye.

My wytt is waik for tyll Indyte
Thare heuinlye plesouris Infinyte.
Wes neuer none erthlye Creature
Sen syne had sic perfyte plesoure.
Thay had puyssance Imperiall
Aboue all thyng materiall.
Als cunnyng Clerkis dois conclude,
Adam preceld in pulchritude
Most Naturall, and the farest man
That euir wes, sen the warld began,
Except Christ Iesu, Goddis Sonne,
To quhome wes no comparisone,
And Eua, the fairest Creature
That euer wes formit be nature.
Thocht thay wer naikit as thay wer maid,
No schame ather of vther haid.
Quhat plesour mycht ane man haif more
Nor haif his Lady hym before,
So lustye, plesand, and perfyte,

223

Reddy to serue his appetyte.
Thay had none vther cure, I wys,
Bot past thare tyme with Ioye and blys.
Wyld Beistis did to thame repair,
So did the Fowlis of the air,
With noyis most Angelycall
Makand thame myrthis Musicall.
The fyschis soumand in the strandis
Wer holelye at thare commandis.
All Creaturis, with ane accorde,
Obeyit hym as thare souerane Lorde.
Thay sufferit nother heit nor cald,
With euery plesour that thay wald.
Als, to the deith thay wer nocht thrall,
And rychtso suld we haue bene all,
For he and all his Successouris
Suld haue possedit those plesouris,
Syne frome that Ioye materiall
Gone to the glore Imperiall.
Thay had, geue I can rycht discryue,
Gret Ioy in all thare wyttis fyue,
In heiryng, seyng, gustyng, smellyng,
Induryng thare delytesum dwellyng:
Heiryng the byrdis armoneis,
Taistyng the fructis of diuers treis,
Smellyng the balmye dulce odouris
Quhilk did proceid frome fragrant flowris,
Seyng so mony heuinlye hewis
Off blomes brekyng on the bewis.
Off twycheyng, als, thay had delyte,
Off vtheris bodeis soft and quhyte.
But doute, Induryng that plesour
Thay luffit vther Paramour.
No maruell bene thocht swa suld be,
Consyderyng thare gret bewte.
Als, God gaue thame command expres
To multyplie and tyll incres,
That thare seid and successioun

224

Mycht pleneis euery Natioun.

I lyst nocht tarye tyll declare
All properteis of that place preclare:
Quhow herbis and treis grew ay grene,
Nor of the temporat air serene;
Quhow fructis Indeficient,
Ay alyke rype and redolent;
Nor of the Fontane, nor the fludis,
Nor of the flowris pulchritudis;
That mater Clerkis dois declare;
Quharefore I speik of thame na mare.
The Scripture makis no mentioun
Quhow lang thay rang in that Regioun.
Bot I beleue the tyme wes schorte,
As diuers Doctouris dois reporte.

FINIS.

OF THE MISERABYLL TRANSGRESSIOUN OF ADAM.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, Hov happinnit the mischance?
(Quod I) schaw me the circumstance,
Declaryng me that cairfull cace,
Quhow Adam lost that plesand place
Frome hym and his Successioun.
Quhow did proceid that transgressioun?

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) efter my rude Ingyne
I sall rehers the that rewyne.
Quhen God, the Plasmatour of all,
In to the heuin Imperiall

225

Did Creat all the Angellis brycht,
He maid one Angell most of mycht,
To quhome he gaif preheminence,
Aboue thame all, in sapience.
Because all vther he did prefer,
Namit he wes brycht Lucefer.
He wes so plesand and so fair,
He thocht hym self without compair,
And grew so gay and glorious,
He gan to be presumptuous,
And thocht that he wald sett his sait
In to the north, and mak debait
Agane the Maiestie Diuyne,
Quhilk wes the cause of his rewyne.
For he incurrit Goddis Yre,
And banyst frome the heuin Impyre
With Angellis mony one Legioun,
Quhilkis wer of his opinioun.
Innumerabyll with hym thare fell.
Sum lychtit in the lawest hell,
Sum in the sey did mak repair,
Sum in the erth, sum in the air.
That most vnhappy cumpanye
Att Father Adam had Inuye,
Parsaueyng Adam and his seid
In to thare places to succeid.
The Serpent wes the subtellest

Gene. iii.

Aboue all beistis, and craftyest.
Than Sathan, with ane fals intent,
Did enter in to that Serpent,
Imagenyng sum craftye wyle,
Quhow he mycht Adam best begyle,
And gar hym brek commandiment.
Bot to the woman first he went;
Traistyng the better to preuaill,
Full subtellye did hir assaill.
With facund wordis, fals and fair,
He grew with hir familiair,

226

That he his purpose mycht auance;
Beleuand in hir Inconstance.

Quhat is the cause, Madame (said he)
That ȝe forbeir ȝone plesand tre,
Quhilk bene, but peir, most pretious,
Quhose fruct bene moste delytious?
I Nyll (quod sche) thare to accord.
We ar forbyddin be the Lord,
The quhilk hes geuin ws lybertie
Tyll eait of euery fruct and tre
Quhilk growis in to Paradyse:
Brek we command, we ar nocht wyse.
He gaue tyll ws ane strait command
That tre to twyche nocht with our hand.
Eit we of it, without remede,
He said but dout we sulde be dede.
Beleue nocht that (said the Serpent)
Eit ȝe of it Incontinent.
Repleit ȝe sall be with Science,
And haif perfyte Intelligence,
Lyke God hym self, of euyll and gude.
Than, haistellye for to conclude,
Heiryng of this prerogatyue,
Sche pullit doun the fruct belyue,
Throw counsall of the fals Serpent,
And eit of it, to that intent,
And patt hir Husband in beleue,
That plesand fruct gyf he wald preue,
That he suld be als Sapient
As the gret God Omnipotent.
Thynk ȝe nocht that ane plesand thyng,
That we, lyke God, suld euer ryng?
He, herand this Narratioun,
And be hir solistatioun,
Mouit be prydefull ambitioun,
He eit, on that conditioun.
The principall poyntis of this offence
War pryde and Inobedience,

227

Desyring for to be Equall
To God, the Creature of all.
Allace, Adam, quhy did thow so?
Quhy causit thow this mortall wo?
Had thow bene constant, firme, and stabyll,
Thy glore had bene Incomparabyll.
Quhare wes thy consyderatioun,
Quhilk had the Dominatioun
Off euery leuyng Creature
That God had formit be Nature,
Tyll vse thame at thy awin deuyse?
Wes thow nocht prince of Paradyse?
Wes neuer man, sen syne, on lyue,
That God gaue sic Prerogatyue.
He gaif the strenth aboue Sampsone,
And sapience more than Salomone.
Ȝoung Absolone, in his tyme moste fair,
To thy bewte wes no compair.
Arestotyll thow did precell
In to Phylosophie naturell.
Uirgill, in tyll his Poetrye,
Nor Cicero, in tyll Oratrye,
War neuer half so Eloquent.
Quhy brak thow Goddis commandiment?
Quhare wes thy wytt, that wald nocht flee
Far frome the presens of that tree?
Gaif nocht thy Maker the fre wyll
To take the gude and leif the euyll?
Quhow mycht thy forfalt be excusit,
That Goddis commandiment refusit,
Throuch thy wyffis perswasioun?
Quhilk hes bene the occasioun,
Sen syne, that mony nobyll men,
Be the euyll counsall of wemen,
Alluterlye distroyit bene,
As in the Storeis may be sene,
Quhilk now we neid nocht tyll declair,
Bot fordwart tyll our purpose fair.

228

Quhen thay had eaitin of the frute,
Off Ioye than wer thay destitute.
Than gan thay boith for to thynk schame,
And to be naikit thocht defame,
And maid thame Breikis of leuis grene,
That thair secreitis suld nocht be sene.
Bot in the stait of Innocence
Thay had none sic experience,
Bot, quhen thay war to Syn subiectit,
To schame and dreid thay war coactit.
And in ane busk thay hid thame cloce,
Aschamit of the Lordis voce,
Quhilk callit Adam be his name.
(Quod he) my Lord, I thynk gret schame
Naikit to cum to thy presence.
Thow had none sic experience,
Quod God, quhen thow wes Innocent.
Quhy brake thow my commandiment?
Allace (quod Adam) to the Lorde,
The veritie I sall recorde:
This woman that thow gaif to me
Gart me eit of ȝone plesand tre.
Rychtso the woman hir excusit,
And said: the Serpent me abusit.
Than to the Serpent God said thus:
O thow Dissauer venimous,
Because the woman thow begylit,
Frome thyne furth sall thow be exylit.
Curst and waryit sall thow be;
So sall thy seid be, efter the:
Cauld erth salbe thy fude, also,
And creipand on thy breist sall go.
Als, I sall putt Inamite
Betuix the woman, euer, and the.
Betuix thy seid and womanis seid
Salbe continuall mortall feid.
Quhowbeit thow hes wrocht thir myscheuis,
It sall nocht be as thow beleuis.

229

Sic seid salbe in woman sawin,
That thy power salbe doun thrawin,
Treddyng thy heid that thow may feill,
And thow sall tred hym on the heill.
This was his promys and menyng,
That the Immaculat Uirgyng
Sulbe beir the Prince Omnipotent,
Quhilk suld tred doun that fals Serpent,
Sathan, and all his companye,
And thame confunde alluterlye.

COUR[TIOUR].
Quod I: geue Sathan, prince of hell,
Spak in the Serpent, as ȝe tell,
And beistis can no way syn at all,
Quhy wes the Serpent maid so thrall?
I heir men say, affore that hour
The Serpent had ane fair figour,
And ȝeid straucht vp vpone his feit,
And had his membris all compleit,
As vtheris beistis vpone the bent.

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) for he wes Instrument
To Sathan, in this Miserie,
Puneist he wes, as ȝe may se.
As, be experience, thow may knaw,
Expres in to the commoun Law,
Ane man conuickit for bewgrye,
The beist is brynt als weill as he,
Quhowbeit the beist be Innocent:
And so befell of the Serpent.
It was the Feynd, full of dispyte,
Off Adamis fall quhilk had the wyte,
As he hes had of mony mo:
Bot tyll our purpose lat ws go.

230

Than to the woman, for hir offence,
God did pronunce this sore sentence.
All plesour that thow had afforrow
Sall cheangit be in lestyng sorrow.
Quhare that thow suld, with myrth and Ioy,
Haue borne thy byrth, butt pane or noy,
Now all thy bairnis sall thow bair
With dolour and continuall cair.
And thow salbe, for oucht thow can,
Euer subiectit to the man.

Be this sentence God did conclude
Wemen frome lybertie denude,
Quhilk, be experience, ȝe may se,
Quhow Quenis of moste hie degre
Ar vnder moste subiectioun,
And sufferis moste correctioun.
For thay, lyke byrdis in tyll ane cage,
Ar keipit ay vnder thirlage.
So all wemen, in thare degre,
Suld to thare men subiectit be.
Quhowbeit, sum ȝit wyll stryue for stait,
And for the maistrye mak debait,
Quhilk gyf thay want, boith ewin and morrow
Thare men wyll suffer mekle sorrow.
Off Eue thay tak that qualite,
To desyre Soueranite.

And than tyll Adam said the Lord:
Because that thow hes done accord
Thy wyll, and harknit to thy wyfe,
Now sall thow lose this plesand lyfe.
Thow wes tyll hir obedient,
Bot thow brake my commandiment.
Curste and baren the erth salbe
Quhare euer thow gois, tyll that thow de.
But laubour, it sall beir no corne,
Bot Thirsyll, Nettyll, Breir, and Thorne.
For fude thow gettis none vther beild,
Bot eait the herbis apone the feild.

231

Sore laubouryng, tyll thy browis sweit,
Frome thyne furth sall thow wyn thy meit.
I maid the of the erth, certane,
And thow in erth sall turne agane.
Than maid he thame Abilȝement,
Off skynnis ane raggit rayment,
Thame to preserue frome heit and cauld.
Than grew thare dolour mony fauld.
Now, Adam, ar ȝe lyke tyll ws,
With ȝour gay garment glorious:
To thame thir wordis said the Lorde.
Than cryit thay boith Misericorde,
Quhen frome that Garth, with hartis sore,
Baneist thay wer, for euer more,
On to this wracheit vaill of sorrow,
With daylie laubour, ewin and morrow.
Efter quhose dolorous departyng,
The Lorde gaue Paradyce in kepyng
Tyll ane Angell of Ierubin,
That none suld haue entres thare in.
Att the quhilk entres he did stand,
With flammand fyrie sweird in hand,
To keip that Adam and his wyfe
Sulde nocht taist of the tre of lyfe.
For, geue thay of that tre had preuit,
Perpetuallye thay mycht haue leuit.
So Adam and his Successioun
Off Paradyce tynt possessioun,
And, be this syn Originall,
War men to Miserie maid thrall.
My Sonne, now may thow cleirly se,
This warld began with misere.
With miserie it doith proceid,
Quhose fyne sall dolour be and dreid.

232

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) quhat kynd of lyfe
Led Adam with his lustye wyfe,
Efter thare bailfull banesyng?

EXPE[RIENCE].
(Quod he) continuall womentyng.
My hart hes ȝitt compassioun,
Quhow thay went wandryng vp and doun,
Weipyng, with mony lowde allace,
That thay had lost that plesand place,
In wyldernes to be exilde,
Quhare thay fand nocht bot beistis wylde,
Manesyng thame for tyll deuore,
Quhilkis all obedient war affore.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) in quhat countre
Did leif Adam, efter that he
Was banesit frome that delyte?

EXPE[RIENCE].
Clerkis (quod he) hes put in wryte
Quhow Adam dwelt, with mekle baill,
In Mamber, in that lusty vaill
Quhilk efter was the Iowis land,
Quhare ȝit his Sepulture dois stand.

Gene. iiii.

I lyste nocht tary tyll discryue
The wo of Adam nor his wyue.
Nor tell quhen thay had Sonnis two,
Cayn and Abell, and no mo.
Nor quhow curst Cayn, for Inuy,
Did slay his Brother creuelly.
Nor of thare murnyng, nor thare mone,
Quhen thay but Sonnis wer left allone;

233

Abell lay slane vpone the ground,
Curst Cayn flemit and Uacabound.
Nor quhow God, of his speciall grace,
Send thame the thrid Sonne, fair of face,
Most lyke Adam of flesche and blude,
Seth was his name, gratious and gude.
Nor quhow blynd Lameth, raikleslye,
Did slay Cayn, vnhappelye.
Adam, as Clerkis dois discriue,
Begat with Eue, his wofull wyue,
Off men Childryng thretty and two,
And of Dochteris alyke also.
Be this thow may weill vnderstand,
That Adam saw mony ane thowsand
That of his body did discend,
Or he out of the warld did wend.
Adam leifit in erth, but weir,

Gene. v.

Compleit nyne hundreth and thretty ȝeir,
And all his dayis war bot sorrow,
Rememberyng, boith ewin and morrow,
Off Paradyce the prosperitie,
Syne of his gret miseritie.
His hart mycht neuer be reiosit,
Remembryng quhow the heuin wes closit
Frome hym and his successioun,
And that, be his transgressioun.
Efter his deith, as I heir tell,
His Saul discendit to the hell,
And thare remanit presoneir,
In that Dungeoun, thre thousand ȝeir
And more, so did boith euyll and gude,
Tyll Christ for thame had sched his blude.
Than, be that most precious ransoun,
Thay wer delyuerit of presoun.
I haue declarit now, as I can,
The miserie of the first man.

FINIS.

234

HEIR FOLLOWIS QUHOV GOD DISTROYIT ALL LEUEAND CREATURE IN ERTH, FOR SYN, AND DROWNIT THAME, BE ANE TERRIBYLL FLUDE, IN THE TYME OF NOYE.

COUR[TIOUR].
Prvdent Father Experience,
Declare to me, or ȝe go hence,
Quhat wes the cause God did distroye
All Creature, in the tyme of Noye.

EXPE[RIENCE].
(Quod he) I trymmyll for to tell,
That Infortune, quhow it befell,
The cause bene so abhominabyll,
And the mater so miserabyll.
Bot, for to schaw the Circumstance,
Manefestlye, of that myschance,
First I mon gar the vnderstand

Gene. vi.

Quhow Adam gaif expresse command
That those quhilkis come of Sethis blude,
Because thay wer gratious and gude,
Suld nocht contract with Cainnis kyn,
Quhilkis wer Inclynit, all, to Syn.
Tyll obserue that commandiment,
Cain past in the Orient,
With his wyfe, callit Calmana,
Quhilk was his awin Syster alswa,
Quhare his offspryng did lang remane,
Besyde the Montane of Tarbane.
And Seth did lang tyme lede his lyfe
With Delbora, his prudent wyfe,

235

Quhilk wes his Syster, gude and fair;
In Damassene maid thare repair.
In that countre of Sethis clan
Discendit mony holy man.
So lang as Adam wes leueand,
The peple did obserue command.
Quhen he wes dede, and laid in ground,
And peple greitly did abound,
And Cayn slane, as I haue schawin,
And Sethis dayis all ouer blawin,
The Sonnis than of Sethis blude,
Seand the plesand pulchritude
Off the Ladyis of Caynnis kyn,
Quhowbeit thay knew weill it wes Syn,
Opprest with sensuall lustis rage,
Did tak thame in to Mariage,
And so corruptit wes that blude,
The gude with euyll, and euyll with gude.
Than, as the peple did incres,
Thay did abound in wickitnes,
As holy Scripture dois rehers:
Quhilk I abhor to putt in vers,
Or tell with toung I am nocht abyll,
The suthe bene so abhominabyll:
Quhow men and wemen schamefullye
Abusit thame selfis vnnaturallye;
Quhose foull abhominatioun
And vncouthe fornicatioun
I thynk gret schame to putt in wryte.
All that Paull Orose doith indyte,
Quhilk gyf I wald at lenth declair,
It wer yneuch to fyill the air.
Gret Clerkis of Antiquiteis
Hes wryttin mony trew storeis
Quhilkis ar worthy to be commendit,
Quhowbeit thay be nocht comprehendit
At lenth in the Diuyne Scripture.
Bot I sall do my besye cure

236

To tak the best (as I suppose)
That moste pertenis my purpose,
And, with support of Christ, our kyng,
I purpose to confirme no thyng
Off the Auld Hystoricience
Contrarious tyll his excellence.
Quhowbeit, sum mennis Traditionis,
Contrar Chrystis Institutionis,
Off thame thocht sum thyng I declair,
Now latt ws proceid forthermair,
And, with ane Language lamentabyll,
Declare this mater miserabyll.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, the causis wald I knaw
Quhy thay of nature brak the Law.

EXPE[RIENCE].
I traist (quod he) that wyckitnes
Generith, throw sleuthfull ydilnes.
The Deuyll, with all the craft he can,
Quhen he persauis ane ydill man,
Or woman geuin tyll ydilnes,
He gettis eaisalye entres.
And so, be this occasioun,
And be the Feindis perswasioun,
The hole warld, vniuersalye,
Corruptit was alluterlye.

COUR[TIOUR].
Quhat wes the cause thay ydill ware?
That cace (quod I) to me declare.

237

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) be my Imaginatioun,
For laik of vertuous Occupatioun.
For of Craftis thay had small vsage,
Off Marchandyce, nor lawborage.
The erth than, wes so plentuous
Off fruct and Spyce delicious,
The herbis wer so confortabyll,
Delytesum, and Medicinabyll,
The Fontannis, fresche and redolent,
To laubouryng thay tuke lytill tent.
All maner of beistis, at thare plesour,
Did multyplie, without laubour.
The tyme betuix Adam and Noye
To se the erth it wes gret Ioye,
Plantit with precious treis of pryce.
Four famous Fludis of Paradyce
Ran throw the erth in syndrie partis,
Spreddyng thare branchis in all airtis.
The walter was so strang and fyne,
Thay wald nocht laubour to mak wyne.
The fruct and herbis wer so gude,
Thay maid no cair for vther fude,
And so the peple tuke no cure,
Bot past thare tyme at thare plesure,
Ay fyndand new Inuentionis,
To fulfyll thare Intentionis.
So that the Lord Omnipotent
That he maid man did hym repent,
And schew on tyll his Seruand Noye,
That he wald all the warld distroye,
Except hym self and his Meinȝe.

Allace (quod Noye) quhen sall that be?
Than said the Lord: sen thow so speris,
I sall Prolong sax score of ȝeris,
Tarying vpone thare repentence,
Or I fulfyll my Iust Sentence.

238

In the mene tyme fall thow to warke
Incontinent, and beild ane Arke,
Quhilk Noye began, Obedientlye,
And wrocht on it Continuallye,
And to the peple daylie precheit.
To cry for grace he to thame techeit,
And to thame planelye did declair
That God his wand no more wald spair,
Bot on thame he wald wyrk vengence.
To Noye ȝit gaue thay no credence,
And so thay wer Incounsolabyll,
Usyng thare luste abhominabyll,
And tuke his precheyng in dispyte,
Ay followyng thare foull delyte
More and more, tyll that dulefull day
Quhilk all the warld pat in affray.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, ȝe gart me vnderstand,
Quhen Adam brak the Lordis command,
Tyll agment his afflictioun,
God gaue his Maledictioun
On to the erth, quhilk wes so fair,
That it suld barren be and bair,
And, without laubour, beir no corne,
Nor fruct, bot thirsyll, breir, and thorne.
Now say ȝe, in the tyme of Noye
To se the erth it wes gret Ioye,
Plantit with fructis gude and fair.
The suthe of this to me declair.
Thir sayingis two gar me consydder,
Quhow ȝe mak thame agre to gydder.

239

EXPE[RIENCE].

God maid that promys, sickerlye;
Quhowbeit, it come nocht instantlye,
(Quod he) as Clerkis dois conclude.
Bot efter, quhen the furious Flude
Distroyit the erth alluterlye,
Than come that promys, sickerlye.
Ewin siclyke as God gaue command
Adam to twyche nocht with his hand,
Nor eait of, the forbiddin tree,
Geue he did so, that he sulde dee,
Quhowbeit, he deit nocht, but weir,
Efter that day nyne hundreth ȝeir.
Rychtso, the Propheit Esayas,

Esay. ix.

Speikand of Christ, the gret Messias,
Sayand, the Bairne is tyll ws borne,
To saif mankynd quhilk is forlorne,
As he had bene borne Instantlye.
Ȝit wes he nocht borne, veralye,
Efter that saying mony one ȝeir,
As in the Scripture thow may heir.
Ane thousand ȝeir, quho reknyth rycht,

ii. Pet. iii.

Is bot one hour in Goddis sycht.
Exemplis mony I mycht tell,
Wer it nocht tedious for to dwell.
Tyll our purpose latt ws proceid,
Schawand the heycht, and lenth, and breid,
And qualitie of Noyis Arke,
Quhilk wes ane rycht excellent warke,
Off Pyne tre maid, bound weill about,
Laid ouer with pik, within and out,
Iunit full close with nalis strong,
And wes thre hundreth Cubittis long,
Fifty in breid, thretty in heycht;
Thre Chalmeris, Iunit weill and wycht,
And euerilk loft aboue ane vther,
Withouttin anker, air, or ruther.

240

Ane rycht Cubeit, as I heir tell,
Off misour now mycht be ane ell.
In the myd syde ane dur thare wes,
For Beistis ane easy entres.
This Ark, quhilk was boith lang and lairge,
Maid in the bodum lyke one Bairge,
Couerit with brudis weill abufe,
Moste lyke ane housse with sett on rufe,
Quhose rigyng wes ane Cubeit braid,
Quharein thare wes ane wyndo maid,
Sum sayis, weill closit with Christall cleir,
Quharethrouch the day lycht mycht weil appeir.
This work the more wes to be prysit,
Because be God it was deuysit.

Gene. vii.

The makyng of this Ark, but weir,
Indurit weill ane hundreth ȝeir.

Quhen Noye had done compleit this wark,
God did hym close within the Ark;
With hym, his wyfe, and Sonnis thre,
With thare thre wyfis, but no menȝe.
And of all foulis of the air,
Off euerilk kynd enterit ane pair,
Rychtso, two Beistis of euerilk kynde.
For quhy, it wes the Lordis mynde
That generatioun suld nocht faill.
Quharefor of Fameill and of Maill
Off euerilk kynd wer keipit two.
Bot to rehers myne hart is wo
The dolent Lamentatioun,
That tyme, of euerilk Natioun,
Sayand allace, ane thousand syis,
Quhen wynd and rane began to ryis.
The Roikis with rerd began to ryue,
Quhen vglie cluddis did ouerdryue,
And dirkynnit so the Heuinnis brycht
That Sonne nor Mone mycht schaw no lycht.
The terrabyll trymling of erth quaik
Gart Biggyngis bow, and Cieteis schaik.

241

The thounder raif the cluddis sabyll,
With horrabyll sound appouentabyll.
The fyreflauchtis flew ouerthorte the fellis.
Than wes thare nocht bot ȝowtis and ȝellis,

Quhen thay persauit without remede,
All Creature to suffer dede.
All Fontains frome the erth vp sprang,
And frome the Heuin the rane doun dang
Fourty dayis and fourty nychtis.
Than ran the Peple to the heychtis.
Sum clam in cragis, sum in treis,
And sum to heychast montanis fleis,
With more terrour nor I can tell,
Bot all for nocht: the fludis fell,
And wynd did rowt with sic ane reird
That euerilk wycht waryit his weird,
Cryand, allace, that thay wer borne,
Into that flude to be forlorne.
Men mycht no help mak to thare wyfis,
Nor ȝit support thare bairnis lyfis.
The Fludis rose with so gret mychtis,
That thay ouer couerit all the heychtis.
Thay mycht no more thare lyuis lenth,
Bot swame so lang as thay had strenth,
And so, with cryis Lamentabyll,
Endit thare lyuis Miserabyll.
Aboue montanis that wer moste hie
Fifty Cubitis rose the see.
Men may Imagyne, in thare mynd,
All Creature, in to thare kynd,
Boith Beistis and Foulis in the air,
In thare maneir maid mekle cair.
The Fyschis thocht thame euyll begyld,
Quhen thay swame throuch the woddis wyld;
Quhalis tumbland amang the treis,
Wyld Beistis swomand in the seis.
Byrdis, with mony pietuous pew,
Afferitlye in the air thay flew

242

So lang as thay had strenth to flee,
Syne swatterit doun in to the see.
No thyng in erth wes left on lyue,
Beistis nor Foulis, Man nor Wyue.
God holelye did thame distroye,
Except thame in the Ark, with Noye,
The quhilk lay fleittand on the flude,
Welterand amang the stremes wode,
With mony terrabyll affrayis.
Remanit ane hundreth and fyfty dayis,
In gret langour and heuynes,
Or wynd or rane began to ceis.
Sumtyme effectuouslye prayand,
Sumtyme the Beistis vesiand,
For, be the Lordis commandiment,
He maid prouisioun suffecient.

For Noye dwelt in that Ark, but dout,
Ane ȝeir compleit, or he come out,

Gen. viii.

Quhow, at more lenth in holy wryte
This dulefull storye bene Indyte,
And quhow that Noye gan to reiose,
Quhen Conductis of the heuin did close,
So that the Rane no more discendit,
Nor the flude no more ascendit.
Quhen he persauit the heuinnis cleir,
He send furth Corbe, Messingeir,
In to the Air, for to espy
Geue he saw ony montanis dry.
Sum sayis the Rauin did furth remane,
And come nocht to the Ark agane.
Furth flew the Dow, at Noyis command,
And, quhen scho did persaue dry land,
Off ane Olyue scho brak ane branche,
That Noye mycht knaw the walter stanche,
And thare no more scho did sudiorne,
Bot with the branche scho did returne,
That Noye mycht cleirly vnderstand
That felloun Flude was decressand.

243

And so it did, tyll, at the last,
The Ark vpone the ground stak fast,
On the tope of ane Montane hye,
Into the land of Armanye.
And, quhen that Noye had done espye
Quhow that the erth began to drye,
Than dang he doun the durris all,
And lowsit thame the quhilk wes thrall.
The foulis flew furth in the air,
And all the Beistis, pair and pair,
Past furth to seik thare pastorages.
Thare wes, than, bot aucht Personages,
Noye, his thre Sonnis, and thare wyuis,
On erth that left was with thare lyuis,
Quhome God did blys and Sanctyfie,
Sayand, incres and multyplie.
God wait geue Noye wes blyith and glaid,
Quhen of that presoun he wes fraid.

Quhen Noye had maid his Sacrifyce,
Thankand God of his Benifyce,
He standand on mont Armanye,
Quhare he the countre mycht espye,
Ȝe may beleue his hart was sore,
Seyng the erth, quhilk wes affore
The Flude so plesand and perfyte,
Quhilk to behald wes gret delyte,
That now was barren maid and bair,
Afore quhilk fructuous was and fair.
The plesand treis beryng fructis
Wer lyand rewin vp be the rutis.
The holsum herbis and fragrant flouris
Had tynt boith vertew and cullouris.
The feildis grene and fluryst meidis
Wer spulȝeit of thare plesand weidis.
The erth, quhilk first wes so fair formit,
Wes, be that furious flude, deformit.
Quhare vmquhyle wer the plesand planis,
Wer holkit Glennis and hie montanis.

244

Frome clattryng cragis, gret and gray,
The erth was weschin quyte away.

Bot Noye had gretast displesouris,
Behauldand the dede Creatouris,
Quhilk wes ane sycht rycht Lamentabyll.
Men, Wemen, Beistis Innumerabyll,
Seyng thame ly vpone the landis,
And sum wer fleityng on the strandis.
Quhalis and Monstouris of the seis
Stickit on stobbis, amang the treis,
And, quhen the Flude was decressand,
Thay wer left welteryng on the land.
Affore the Flude duryng that space,
The sey wes all in to ane place.
Rycht so the erth, as bene desydit,
In syndrie partis wes nocht deuydit,
As bene Ewrope and Asia
Deuydit ar frome Africa.
Ȝe se, now, diuers Famous Ilis
Stand frome the mane land mony mylis:
All thir gret Ilis, I vnderstand,
War, than, equall with the ferme land.
Thare wes none sey Mediterrane,
Bot onely the gret Occiane,
Quhilk did nocht spred sic bulryng strandis
As it dois, now, ouirthort the landis.
Than, be the ragyng of that flude,
The erth of vertew wes denude,
The quhilk afore wes to be prysit,
Quhose bewtie than wes dissagysit.
Than wes the Maledictioun knawin
Quhilk wes be God tyll Adam schawin.
I reid quhow Clerkis dois conclude,
Induryng that moste furious flude.
With quhilk the erth wes so supprest,
The wynd blew furth of the southwest.
As may be sene, be experience,
Quhow, throw the watteris violence,
The heych montanis, in euery art,

245

Ar bair forgane the southwest part,
As the Montanis of Parraneis,
The alpis, and Rochis in the seis,
Rycht so, the Rochis, gret and gray,
Quhilk standis into Norroway,
The heychast hyllis, in euery art,
And in Scotland, for the moste part.
Throuch weltryng of that furious flude,
The Cragis of erth war maid denude:
Trauellyng men may consydder best
The montanis bair nyxt the southwest.

COUR[TIOUR].
Declare (quod I) or ȝe conclude,
Quhow lang leuit Noye efter the flude.

EXPE[RIENCE].
(Quod he) in Genesis thow may heir
Quhow that Noye wes sax hundreth ȝeir,
The tyme of this gret punysment,

Gene. ix.

And aye to God obedient,
And wes the best of Sethis blude.
And als he leuit, efter the Flude,
Thre hundreth and fyfty ȝeris,
As the sam scripture wytnes beris,
And wes, or he Randerit the spreit,
Nyne hundreth and fyfty ȝeris compleit.
To schaw this storie Miserabyll
At lenth my wyttis ar nocht abyll.
And als, my Sonne, as I suppose,
It langis nocht tyll our purpose
To schaw quhow Noyis Sonnis thre
Gan to Incres and multyplie,
Nor quhow that Noye plantit the wyne,
And drank tyll he wes dronkin, syne,
And sleipit with his membris bair,
And quhow Cham maid for hym no cair,

246

Bot leuch to se his Father so,
Quhowbeit his Brether wer rycht wo.
Nor quhow Noye, but restrictioun,
Gaue Cham his Maledictioun,
And put hym vnder Seruytude
To Sem and Iaphet, that war gude.
Nor quhow God maid ane conuenent
With Noye, to mak no punysment,
Nor be no Flude the peple droun.
In signe of that conditioun,
His Rane Bow sett in to the air,
Off diuers Heuinlye colouris fair,
For to be ane perpetuall sing
Be Flude to mak no punyssing.
This Story geue thow lyste to knaw,
At lenth the Bibyll sall the schaw.

FINIS

HEIR ENDIS THE FIRST PART. AND FOLLOWIS THE SECUNDE PART.

IN THE FIRST, THE BEILDYNG OF BABILONE BE NEMROD. AND QUHOW KYNG NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST MONARCHE. AND OF THARE YDOLATRYE. AND QUHOW SEMERAMIS, GOUERNIT THE IMPYRE, EFTER HIR HUSBANDE KYNG NYNUS. AS FOLLOWIS.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, I pray ȝow to me tell
The First Infortune that befell
Immediatlye efter the Flude,
And quho did first sched saikles blude,
And quho Ydolatrye began.

247

EXPE[RIENCE]
(Quod he) I sall do as I can.
Efter the Flude I fynde no Storye
Worthy to putt in Memorye,
Tyll Nemrod began to Ryng

Gene. x.

Aboue the Peple as ane Kyng,
Quhilk wes the Principall man of one,
That beilder was of Babilone.

COUR[TIOUR]
That Story, Maister, wald I knaw,
(Quod I) geue ȝe the suthe wald schaw,
Quhy and for quhat occasioun
Thay beildit sic ane strang Dungeoun.

EXPE[RIENCE]

Than said to me Experience:
I sall declare, with Deligence,
Those Questionis, at thy command.
Bot first, Sonne, thow mon vnderstand
Off Nemrod the Genologie,
His strenth, Curage, and Quantitie;
Quhowbeit Moyses, in his first Buke,
That Story lychtlye did ouer Luke;
Off hym no more he doith declare,
Except he was ane strang Huntare.
Bot vtheris Clerkis Curious,
As Oroce doith, and Iosephus,
Discryuis Nemrod at more lenth,
Boith of his stature and his strenth.
This Nemrod was the fourt persoun
Frome Noye be lyne discendyng doun.
Noye generit Cham, Cham generit Chus,
And Chus, Nemrod; the suthe bene thus.
This Nemrod grew ane man of mycht;
That tyme in erth wes none so wycht.

248

He wes ane Gyane stout and strang;
Perforce wyld beistis he doun thrang.
The peple of that hole Regioun
Come vnder his Dominioun.
No man thare wes, in all that land,
His stalwartnes that durst ganestand.
No maruell wes thocht he wes wycht:
Ten Cubitis large he wes of hycht,
Proportionat, in lenth and breid,
Afferand to his hycht, we reid.
He grew so gret and glorious,
So prydefull and presumptuous,
That he come Inobedient
To the gret God Omnipotent.
This Nemrod was the principall man
That first Ydolatrye began.

Than gart he all the peple call
To his presens, boith gret and small,
And, in that gret conuentioun,

Gene. xi.

Did propone his Intentioun.
My Freindis (said he) I mak it knawin
The gret wengeance that God hes schawin,
In tyme of our fore Father Noye,
Quhen he did all the warld distroye,
And dround thame in ane furious flude:
Quharefor I thynk we sulde conclude
Quhov we maye make one strang defence
Aganis sick walteris violence,
For to resyste his furious Yre,
Contra[r]ye boith to flude and fyre.
Latt ws go spye sum plesand feilde,
Quhare one strang biggyng we maye beilde,
One Cityie, with ane strang Dungeoun,
That none Ingyne may ding it doun,
So heych, so thike, so large, and lang,
That Gode tyll ws sall do no wrang.
Itt sall surmonte the Planetis sewin,
That we frome Gode may wyn the hewin.

249

Those peple, with one ferme intent,
All tyll his counsell did consent,
And did espy one plesand place
Harde on the flude of Euphratace.
The peple thare did thame prepair,
In to the plane feilde of Synear,
Quhilk now of Caldie beryth the name,
Quhilk did lang tyme flureis in fame.

Thare gret Fortres than did thay founde,
And kaiste tyll thay gat souer grounde.
All fell to warke, boith man and chylde:
Sum holkit claye, sum brynt the tylde.
Nembroth, that curious Campioun,
Deuysar wes of that Dungeoun.
No thyng thay sparit thare laubouris,
Lyke besy beis vpone the flouris,
Or Emottis trauelling in to Iune:
Sum vnder wrocht, and sum abone:
With strong Ingenious masonrye,
Upwarte thare wark did fortifye.
With brynt tylde stonis, large and wycht,
That Towre thay rasit to sic hycht
Abufe the airis Regioun,
And Iunit of so strong fassioun,
With Syment maid of pyk and tar,
Thay vsit none vther mortar,
Thocht fyre or walter it assalit,
Contrare that Dungeoun nocht aualit.
The land aboute wes fair and plane;
And it rose lyke one heych montane.
Those fuliche peple did intende
That to the Hewin it sulde ascende.
So gret one strenth wes neuir sene,
In to the warld, with mennis eine.

The wallis of that wark thay maid
Two and fyftye faldome braid.
One faldome than, as sum men sayis,
Mycht bene two faldome in our dayis:

250

One man wes, than, of more stature
Nor two be now: thareof be sure.

Josephus haldis opinioun,
Sayand the heycht of this Dungeoun
Off large pasis of mesure bene
Fyue thousande, aucht score, and fourtene.
Be this raknyng, it is full rycht
Sax mylis and ane half in hycht.
Ane thousande pais tak for ane myle,
And thow sall fynd it neir that style.
This towre, in compass round aboute,
Wer mylis ten, withouttin doute.
Aboute the Cetie of stagis
Foure houndreth and four score, I wys.
And, be this nommer, in compas,
Aboute three score of mylis It was;
And, as Orotius reportis,
Thare wes fyue score of brasin portis.

The translatour of Orotius
In tyll his Cronicle wryttis thus,
That, quhen the Sonne is at the hycht,
Att nonne quhen it doith schyne most brycht,
The schaddow of that hydduous strenth
Sax myle and more it is of lenth.
Thus maye ȝe Iuge, in to ȝour thocht,
Gyfe Babilone be heych, or nocht.

FINIS.

251

QUHOV GOD MAID THE DYUERSITIE OF LANGUAGIS. AND MAID IMPEDIMENT TO THE BEILDARIS OF BABILONE.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Than the gret God Omnipotent,
To quhom al thingis bene present,
That wer, and is, and euir salbe,
Ar present tyll his Maiestie;
The hid secretis of mannis hart
From his presens may not depart;
He, seand the Ambitioun
And the prydefull Presumptioun,
Quhov thir proude peple did pretende
Upe throuch the heuinnis tyll ascende;
Quhilk wes gret folye tyll deuyse
Sick one presumptuous interpryse;
For, quhen thay wer moste delygent,
Gode maid thame sick impediment,
Thay wer constranit, with hartis sore,
Frome thyne depart, and beild no more.
Sick Languagis on thame he laid,
That none wyste quhat ane vthir said.
Quhare wes bot ane Language affore,
Gode send thame Languagis three schore.

Affore that tyme all spak Ebrew.
Than sum began for to speik Grew,
Sum Duche, sum language Saraȝyne,
And sum began to speik Latyne.
The Maister men gan to go wylde;
Cryand for treis, thay brocht thame tylde:
Sum said, bryng mortar heir atonis,
Than brocht thay to thame stoks and stonis.

252

And Nembroth, thare gret Campioun,
Ran rageand lyke one wylde Lyoun,
Manassyng thame with wordis rude:
Bot neuir one worde thay vnderstude.
Affore thay fand hym gude and kynde;
Bot than thay thocht hym by his mynde,
Quhen he so furiouslie did flyte.
Than turnit his pryde in to dispyte,
So dirk Eclipsit wes his glore,
Quhen thay wald wyrk for him no more.

Beholde quhov God wes so gratious
To thame, quhilk wer so outtragious.
He nother braik thare leggis nor armis,
Nor ȝit did thame none vther harmis,
Except of toungis diuysioun.
And, for fynall conclusioun,
Constranit thay wer for tyll depart,
Ilke cumpanye in one syndrie arte
Sum paste in to the Orient,
And sum in to the Occident,
Sum south, sum north, as thay thocht best;
And so thare poleysie left west.
Bot quhov that Citie wes reparit
Heir efter it salbe declarit.

FINIS.

OF THE FIRST INUENTIOUN OF YDOLATRIE. QUHOW NEMBROTH COMPELD THE PEPLE TYLL ADORE THE FYRE IN CALDIA.

COUR[TIOUR].
Now, Schir (said I) schaw me the man
Quhilk first Ydolatrie began.

253

EXPE[RIENCE].

That sall I do with all my hart,
My Sonne (said he) or we depart.
Quhen Nembroth saw his purpose falit,
And his gret laubour nocht aualit,
In maner of contemptioun
Departit furth of that regioun,
And, as Orotius doith rehers,
He past in to the land of Pers,
And mony one ȝeir did thare remane,
And syne to Babilone come agane,
And fand huge peple of Caldie
Remanand in that gret Citie,
That wer glaid of his returnyng,
And did obey hym as thare kyng.
Nembroth, his name for tyll auance,
Amang tham maid new ordinance,
Sayand, I think ȝe ar nocht wyce,
That to none God makis Sacrifyce.

Than, to fulfyll his fals desyre,
He gart be maid ane flammand fyre,
And maid it of sic breid and hycht,
He gart it byrn boith day and nycht.
Than all the peple of that land
Adorit the fyre, at his command,
Prosternit on thare kneis and facis,
Beseikand thare new God of gracis.
To gyf thame more occasioun,
He maid thame gret perswasioun.
This God (said he) is moist of mycht,
Schawand his bemys on the nycht.
Quhen Sonne and Monne ar baith obscure,
His hewinlie brychtnes doith indure.
Quhen mennis memberris sufferit calde,
Fyre warmyth thame, ewin as thay walde.

Than cryit the Peple, at his desyre,
Thare is no God except the fyre.

254

Or thare was ony Ymagerie,
Began this first Ydolatrie.
Att that tyme thare wes none vsage
To carue nor for to paynt Image.
Than maid he proclamatioun,
Quho maid nocht adoratioun
To that new God, without remede
In to that fyre sulde suffer dede.
I fynd no man, in to that lande,
His tyrrannie that durste ganestande,
Bot Habraham, and Aram his brother.
That disobeyit I fynd none vther,
Quhilk dwelland war in that cuntre,
With thare Father, callit Thaire.
Thir brether Nembroth did repreue,
Sayand tyll hym, Lord, with ȝour leue,
This fyre is bot ane Element:
Praye ȝe to God Omnipotent,
Quhilk maid the Heuinnis be his mycht,
Sonne, Monne, and sterris, to gyf lycht.
He maid the fyschis in the seis,
The erth, with beistis, herbis, and treis;
And, last of all, for to conclude,
He maid Man, to his similitude.
To that gret God gyfe pryse and glore,
Quhose Ring induris euermore.

Than Nembroth, in his furious yre,
Thir brether boith keste in the fyre.
Habraham be God he wes preseruit,
Bot Aram in the fyre he staruit.
Quhen Thara harde his sonne wes dede,
He did depart out of that stede,
With Habraham, Nachor, and thare wyffis,
As the Scripture at lynthe discryffis,
And left the land of Caldia,
And paste to Mesopotamia,
And dwelt in Tharan all his dayis,
And deit thare, as the story sayis.

255

The lyfe of Habraham, I supose,
No thyng langith tyll our purpose.
In to the Bibyll thov may reid
His verteous lyfe in worde and deid.
Now to the I haue schawin the man
That firste Ydolatrie began.

FINIS.

OF THE GRET MISERE AND SKAYTHIS THAT CUMIS OF WERIS. AND QUHOW KING NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST WERIS, AND STRAIK THE FIRST BATTELL.

[COURTIOUR].

Father, I pray ȝov, with my hart,
Declair to me, or we depart,
Quho first began thir mortall Weris,
Quhilk euerilk faithfull hart efferis,
And euere polesye doun thrawis,
Express agane the Lordis lawis,
Sen Christe, our kyng omnipotent,
Left Peace in tyll his Testament.
Quhov doith proceid this creueltie
Aganis Justice and Equitie?
In lande quhare ony Weris bene,
Gret Miserrie thare may be sene.
All thyng on erth that God hes wrocht
Weir doith distroye, and puttis at nocht.
Ceteis, with mony strang Dungeoun,
Ar brynte, and to the erth doung doun.
Uirginis and Matronis ar deflorit;
Templis that Rychelie bene decorit
Ar brynt, and all thare Preistis spulȝeit;
Pure Orphelenis vnder feit ar fulȝeit,
Mony auld men maid childerles,

256

And mony childer fatherles.
Off famous Sculis the Doctryne,
Boith natural science and Diuyne,
And euerilk vertew, trampit doun;
No reuerence done to relegioun;
Strenthis distroyit alluterlie;
Fair Ladyis forcit schamefullie;
Ȝoung Wedowis spulȝeit of thare spousis;
Pure Lauborars houndit frome thare housis.
Thare dar no Merchand tak on hand
To trauell nother be sey nor land,
For Boucheouris, quhilk dois thame confounde;

Sum murdrist bene, and sum ar drounde;
Craftis men of curious Ingyne
Alluterlie put to rewyne;
The Bestiall reft, the commonnis slane,
The land but lauboring doith remane.
Off Pollesye the perfyte warkis,
Beildingis, Gardyngis, and plesand parkis,
Alluterlie distroyit bene.
Gret graingis brynt thare may be sene;
Ryches bene turnit to powertie,
Plentie in tyll penuritie.
Deith, Hounger, Darth, it is weill kende,
Off Weir this is the Fatell ende:
Iustice turnit in tyrrannye,
All plesour in aduersitye.
The Weir alluterlie doun thrawis
Boith the Ciuill and Cannoun lawis.
Weir generit Murthour and myscheif,
Sore lamentyng withoute releif.
Weir doith distroye Realmes and kyngis;
Gret Princis weir to presoun bryngis;
Weir scheddis mekle saikles blude.
Sen I can saye of weir no gude,

Declare to me, Schir, gyf ȝe can,
Quho first this Miserrie began.

FINIS.

257

HEIR FOLLOWITH ANE SCHORTE DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE FOUR MONARCHIS. AND QUHOW KYNG NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST MONARCHIE.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Of Weris (said he) the gret outtrage
Began in to the secunde aige,
Be creuell, prydefull, couytous kyngis,
Reuarris, but rycht, of vtheris ryngis.
Quhowbeit Cayam, afore the flude,
Wes first schedder of saikles blude,
Nynus was first and principall man
Quhilk wrangus conquessing began,
And was the man, withouttin faill,
In erth that straik the first battell,
And first Inuentit Imagerye,
Quhare throw came gret Idolatrye.

We moste knaw, or we forthair wend,
Off quhome king Nynus did discend.
Nynus, gyf I can rycht defyne,
He was frome Noye the fyft, be lyne.
Noye generit Cham; Cham generit Chus;
And Chus, Nembroth; Nembroth, Bellus;
And Bellus, Nynus, but lesing,
Off Assiria the secund king,
And beildar of thar gret Citie,
The quhilk was callit Nyniue,
And wes the first and principall man
Quhilk the first Monarchie began.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) declaire to me
Quhat signifyis one Monarchie.

258

EXPE[RIENCE].
The suith (said he) sonne, gyfe thov knew,
Monarchie bene one terme of Grew:
As, quhen one Prouince principall
Had hole power Imperiall,
During thare Dominationis,
Abufe all Kyngis and Nationis,
One Monarchie that men doith call,
Off quhome I fynd four principall,
Quhilk heth rong sen the warld began.

COUR[TIOUR].
Than (said I) Father, gyf ȝe can,
Quhilk four bene thay, schaw me, I pray ȝow.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My sone, said he, that sall I say ȝow.

First, rang the kings of Asserianis;
Secundlye, rang the Persianis;
The Grekis, thridlye, with swerd and fyre
Perfors optenit the thrid Impyre;
The fourte Monarche, as I heir,
The Romanis brukit mony one ȝeir.
Latt vs first speik of Nynus king,
Quhov he began his Conquessing.

The auld Greik Historitiane
Diodorus he wryttis plane,
Att rycht gret lenth, of Nynus king,
Off his Impyre and conquessing,
And of Semeramis, his wyfe,
That tyme the lustyest one lyfe.
Itt wer to lang to putt in wryte
Quhilk Diodore heth done indyte,
Bot I sall schaw, as I suppose,
Quhilk maist belangith thy purpose.

259

Quhen Nembroth, Prince of Babilone,
Oute of this wrechit warld wes gone,
And his Sonne, Bellus, deid, alswa,
The first Kyng of Asseria,
This Nynus, quhilk wes secunde kyng,
Tryumphandlie began tyll ryng,
And wes nocht satifyit nor content
Off his awin Regione nor his rent.
Thynkand his glore for tyll aduance
By his gret peple and puissance,
Throuch Pryde, Couatyce, and vaine glore,
Did him prepare to conques more,
And gadtherit furth ane gret Armie
Contrare Babilone and Caldie,
Quhareof he had ardent desyre
Tyll Iune that land tyll his Impyre,
Quhowbeit he had thareto no rycht.
Bot, by his tyrranry and mycht,
Withouttin feir of God or man,
His Conquessing thus he began.

His peple beand in arraye,
To Caldia tuke the reddy waye.
Quhen that the Babilonianis,
To gidther with the Caldianis,
Hard tell Kyng Nynus wes cumand,
Maid proclamationis throuch the land,
That ilke man, efter thare degre,
Sulde cum, and saif thare awin cuntre.
Quhowbeit thay had no vse of weir,
Thay past fordwart, withouttin feir,
And pat thame selfis in gude order,
To meit kyng Nynus on the border.
In that tyme, ȝe sall vnderstande,
Thare wes no harnes in the lande,
For tyll defende nor tyll Inuaid,
Quharethrow more slauchter thare wes maid.
Thay faucht, throw strenth of thare bodeis,
With gaddis of Irne, with stonis, and treis.

260

With sound of horne, and hydduous cry,
Thay ruschit to gidther rycht rudly,
With hardy hart and strenth of handis,
Tyll thousandis deid lay on the landis.
Quhare men in battell nakit bene,
Gret slauchter, sone, thare may be sene.
Thay faucht so lang and creuellie,
And with vncertane victorie,
No man mycht Iuge, that stude on far,
Quho gat the better nor the war,
Bot, quhen it did approche the nycht,
The Caldianis thay tuke the flycht.
Than the kyng and his cumpanye
Wer rycht glaid of that victorye,
Because he wan the first battell
That strykkin wes in erth, but faill,
And peceably of that Regioun
Did tak the hole Dominioun.
Than wes he king of Caldia,
Alsweill as of Asseria;
As for the king of Arrabie,
In his conquest maid hym supplie.

Off this ȝit wes he nocht content,
Bot to the Realme of Mede he went,
Quhare Farnus, king of that cuntre,
Did meit hym, with one gret armie.
Bot king Nynus the battell wan,
Quhare slane wer mony nobyll man,
And to that king wald gyf no grace,
Bot planelie, in one publict place,
With his sewin Sonnis and his Ladie,
Creuellie did thame Crucifie.
Off that tryumphe he did reiose;
Syne fordwart to the feilde he gose.
Than conquest he Armenia,
Perce, Egypt, and Pamphelia,
Capadoce, Leid, and Maritane,
Caspia, Phrigia, and Hyrcane,

261

All Affrica and Asia,
Except gret Ynde and Battria,
Quhilk he did conques efterwart
As ȝe sall heir, or we depart.
Now wald I, or we forther wend,
That his Ydolatrye wer kend:
Syne, efter that, withoute sudiorne,
Tyll our purpose we sall returne.

FINIS.

QUHOV KING NYNUS INUENTIT THE FIRST YDOLATRIE OF YMAGIS.

Nynvs one Ymage he gart mak
For King Bellus, his Fatheris saik,
Moist lyke his Father of figoure,
Off quantite, and portratoure.
Off fyne Golde wes that figour maid;
Ane crafty Croun apone his haid,
With precious stonis, in toknyng
His father Bellus wes ane Kyng.
In Babilone he ane tempyll maid,
Off crafty work, boith heych and braid,
Quharein that Ymage gloriouslie
Wes thronit vpe tryumphandlie.

Than Nynus gaif ane strait command
Tyll all the peple of that land,
Alsweill in tyll Asseria
As in Synear and Caldia,
Under his Dominatioun,
Thay suld make Adoratioun,
Apone thare kneis, to that figour,
Under the pane of forfaltour.
Thare wes no Lorde, in all that land,
His summonding that durst ganestand.

262

Than ȝoung and auld, boith gret and small,
Tyll that Ymage thay prayit, all,
And cheangit his name, as I heir tell,
Frome Bellus to thare gret God Bell.
In that tempyll he did deuyse
Preistis, for tyll mak sacrifyse.
Be conswetud than come one law,
None vther God that thay wald knaw;
And als he gaif to that Ymage
Off Sanctuarie the Priuilage;
For, quhat sum euer transgressour,
One homicede or oppressour.
Seand that Ymage in the face,
Off thare gylt gat the kyngis grace.

COUR[TIOUR].
Declare to me, sweit schir (said I)
Wes there no more Ydolatry,
Efter that this fals Idole Bell
Wes thronit vp, as ȝe me tell?

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne (said he) incontinent
The nowellis throuch the warld thay went,
Quhow king Nynus, as I haif said,
One curious Image he had maid,
To the quhilk all his natioun
Maid deuote adoratioun.
Than euerye cuntre tuke consait,
Thay wald king Nynus contrafait.
Quhen ony famous man wes deid,
Sett vp one Image in his steid,
Quhilk thay did honour, from the splene,
As it Immortall God had bene.
Imagis sum maid, for the nonis,
Off fyne gold, sum of stokis and stonis,

263

Off syluer sum, and Euyr bone,
With diuers namis tyll eueryone.
For sum thay callit Saturnus,
Sum Iupiter, sum Neptunus;
And sum thay callit Cupido,
Thare god of lufe; and sum Pluto;
Thay callit sum Mercurius;
And sum the wyndie Eolus;
Sum Mars, maid lyke ane man of weir,
Inarmit weill with sword and speir;
Sum Bacchus; and sum Apollo;
Off namis thay had ane houndreth mo.

And, quhen one Lady of gret fame
Wes dede, for tyll exalt hir name,
One Image of hir portratour
Wald set vpe in one oratour,
The quhilk thay callit thare goddes;
As Uenus, Iuno, and Palles;
Sum Cleo, sum Proserpina,
Sum Ceres, Uesta, and Diana,
And sum the gret goddes Mynarue
With curious collouris thay wald carue.
Amang the Poetis thow may see
Off fals godis the genologee.

So thir abhominationis
Did spred ouerthort all nationis,
Except gude Habraham, as we reid,
Quhilk honourit God in word and deid;
For Habraham had his beginnyng
In to the tyme of Nynus king.
Nynus began with tyrranrie,
And Habraham with humylitie.
Nynus began the first Impyre;
Habraham of weir had no desyre;
Nynus began Idolatrye;
Habraham, in spreit and veritye,
He prayit to the Lorde allone;
Fals Imagry he wald haue none.

264

Off hym discendit, I heir tell,
The twelf gret Trybis of Israell.
Those peple maid adoratioun,
With humyll supplicatioun,
Tyll hym quhilk wes of kyngis king,
That hewin and erth maid of no thing.
Dede Ymagis thay held at nocht,
That wer with mennis handis wrocht,
Bot the almychtie God of lyue.
My sonne, now haif I done discryue
Thir questionis, at thy command,
The quhilkis thow did at me demand.

COUR[TIOUR].
Quhat wes the cause (schir, mak me sure)
Ydolatrye did so lang indure
Outthrouch the warld so generalie,
And with the Gentilis, specialie?

[EXPERIENCE].

(Quod he) sum causis principall
I fynd in my memoriall.
First, wes throuch princis commandiment,
Quhilk did ydolatrye inuent;
Syne, singulare proffeit of the preistis,
Payntours, Goldsmythis, Masonnis, Wrychtis.
Those men of craft full curiouslie
Maid Imagis so plesandlie,
And sauld thame for ane sumptuous pryce;
So, be thare crafty Merchandyce,
Thay wer maid ryche abone mesure.
As for the Priestis, I the assure,
Large proffeit gat, ouerthort all landis,
Throuch sacrifyce and offerandis,
And, be thare fayned sanctitude,
Abusit mony one man of gude;

265

As, in the tyme of Daniell,
The preistis of this Idoll Bell.
Quhen Nabuchodonosor king
In Babilone royallie did ring,
Those preistis the kyng gart vnderstand,
That ymage, maid be mennis hand,
He wes one glorious God of lyfe,
And had sic ane prerogatyfe.
That, by his gret power deuyne,
Wald eait Beif, Muttone, Breid, and wyne.
And so the king gart, euery daye,
Affore Bell, on his Aulter, laye
Fourty fresche Wodderris, fatt and fyne,
And sax gret Rowbouris of wycht wyne,
Twelf gret Louis of bowtit floure,
Quhilk wes all eaitin in one houre,
Nocht be that Image, deif and dum,
Bot be the prestis, all and sum,
As in the Bibill thow may ken,
Quhose nummer wer thre score and ten.
Thay and thare wyfis, euerilk day,
Eait all that on the Aulter lay.
Than Daniell, in conclusioun,
Schew the king thare abusioun,
And of thare subtelty maid hym sure,
Quhow, onderneth the tempyll flure,
Throuch ane passage they cam, be nycht,
And eait that meit with candell lycht.

The king, quhen he the mater knew,
Those preistis, with all thare wyffis, he slew.
Thus subtellie the kyng was sylit,
And all the peple wer begylit.
My sonne (said he) now may thow ken
Quhov, by the Preistis and craftismen,
And be thare craftines and cure,
Idolatrye did so lang indure.

Behauld quhow Ihone Boccatious
Hes wryttin workis wounderous

266

Off Gentilis superstitioun,
And of thare gret abusioun,
As in his gret Buke thow may see,
Off fals Goddis the geneologie,
Off Demogorgon, in speciall,
Fore Grandschir tyll the Goddis all,
Honourit amang Archadience,
And of the fals Philistience,
With thare gret deuilische god Dagone,
With vtheris Idolis mony one.
Bot I abhore the treuth to tell
Off the Princis of Israell,
Chosin be God Omnipotent,
Quhow thay brak his commandiment.

iii. Reg. xi.

Kyng Salomone, as the scripture sayis,
He doitit in his latter dayis.
His wantoun wyffis to compleis,
He curit nocht God tyll displeis,
And did committ Idolatrye,
Wyrschipyng caruit Ymagerye,
As Moloch, god of Ammonitis,
And Chamos, god of Moabitis,
Astaroth, god of Sydoniains.
So, for his inobediens
And fowle abhominatioun,
Wer puneist his successioun.
His sonne Roboam, I heir tell,
Tynt the ten Trybis of Israell,
For his fatheris Ydolatrye,
As in the scripture thow may see.

FINIS.

267

OFF IMAGEIS VSIT AMANG CRISTIN MEN.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, ȝit ane thyng I wald speir.
Behald, in euery kirk and queir
Throuch Christindome, in burgh and land,
Imageis maid with mennis hand,
To quhome bene gyffin diuers names;
Sum Peter, and Paull; sum Ihone, & Iames;
Sanct Peter, caruit with his keyis;
Sanct Mychaell, with his wyngis and weyis;
Sanct Katherine, with hir swerd and quheill;
Ane hynde sett vp besyde sanct Geill
It war to lang for tyll discryue
Sanct Frances, with his woundis fyue.
Sanct Tredwall, als, there may be sene,
Quhilk on ane prik heth boyth hir eine;
Sanct Paull, weill payntit with ane sworde,
As he wald feycht at the first worde;
Sanct Apollin on altare standis,
With all hir tethe in tyll hir handis;
Sanct Roche, weill seisit, men may se,
Ane byill new brokin on his thye;
Sanct Eloy he doith staitly stand,
Ane new hors schoo in tyll his hand;
Sanct ringane, of ane rottin stoke;
Sanct Duthow, boird out of ane bloke;
Sanct Androw, with his croce in hand;
Sanct George, vpone ane hors rydand;
Sanct Anthone, sett vp with ane soow;
Sanct Bryde, weill caruit with ane koow,
With coistlye collouris fyne and fair.
Ane thousand mo I mycht declair,
As sanct Cosma, and Damiane,

268

The Sowtars sanct Crispaniane.
All thir on altare staitly standis,
Preistis cryand for thare offrandis,
To quhome we Communnis, on our kneis,
Doith wyrschip all thir Ymagereis;
In Kirk, in Queir, and in the closter,
Prayand to thame our Pater noster,
In pylgramage frome town to toun,
With offrand and with orisoun,
To thame aye babland on our beidis,
That thay wald help ws in our neidis.
Quhat differis this, declare to me,
Frome the Gentilis Idolatrye?

EXPE[RIENCE]

Gyff that he trew that thow reportis,
It goith rycht neir thir samyn sortis.
Bot we, be counsall of Clargye,
Hes lycence to mak Imagerye,
Quhilk of vnleirnit bene the buikis,
For, quhen lauid folk vpone thame luikis,
Itt bringith to rememberance
Off Sanctis lyuis the circumstance;
Quhow, the faith for to fortifye,
Thay sufferit pane rycht pacientlye.
Seand the Image of the Rude,
Men suld remember on the Blude
Quhilk Christ, in tyll his Passioun,
Did sched for our Saluatioun.
Or, quhen thow seis ane portrature
Off blyssit Marie, Uirgen pure,
One bony Babe vpone hir kne,
Than, in thy mynde, remember the
The wordis quhilks the Propheit said,
Quhow sche suld be boith Mother and Maid.

Bot quho that sittis doun on thare kneis,
Prayand tyll ony Imagereis,

269

With oritioun or offerand,
Kneland with cap in to thare hand,
No difference bene, I say to the,
Frome the Gentilis Idolatrye.

Rycht so, of diuers nationis
I reid abominationis,
Quhow Grekis maid thare deuotioun haill
To Mars, to saif thame in battaill.
Tyll Iupiter sum tuke thare vayage,
To saif thame frome the stormys rage;
Sum prayit to Uenus, from the splene,
That thay thare luffis mycht obtene;
And sum to Iuno, for ryches,
Thare pylgramage thay wald addres.

So doith our commoun populare,
Quhilk war to lang for tyll declare
Thare superstitious pylgramageis
To mony diuers Imageis.
Sum to sanct Roche, with deligence,
To saif thame from the pestilence;
For thare teith, to sanct Apollene;
To sanct Tredwell, to mend thare eine:
Sum makis offrande to sanct Eloye,
That he thare hors may weill conuoye;
Thay ryn, quhen thay haif Iowellis tynte,
To seik sanct Syith, or euer thay stynte;
And to sanct Germane, to get remeid
For maladeis in to thare heid.
Thay bryng mad men, on fuit and horsse,
And byndis thame to sanct Mongose crosse;
To sanct Barbara thay cry full faste,
To saif thame frome the thonder blaste;
For gude nouellis, as I heir tell,
Sum takis thare gait to Gabriell;
Sum wyffis sanct Margret doith exhort
In to thare byrth thame to support;
To sanct Anthony, to saif the soow;
To sanct Bryde, to keip calf and koow;

270

To sanct Bastien thay ryn and ryde,
That frome the schote he saf thare syde;
And sum, in hope to gett thare haill,
Rynnis to the auld Rude of Kerrail.
Quhowbeit thir simpyll peple rude
Think thare intentioun be bot gude,
Wo be to Priestis, I say for me,
Quhilk suld schaw thame the verratie.
Prelatis, quhilkis hes of thame the cure,
Sall mak answeir thareof, be sure,
On the gret day of Iugement,
Quhen no tyme beis for to repent,
Quhare manyfest Idolatrye
Sall puneist be perpetuallye.

HEIR FOLLOWIS ONE EXCLAMATIOUN AGANIS IDOLATRIE.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Imprvdent Peple, Ignorant and blynd,
By quhat reasone, law, or authoritie,
Or quhat attentyck scripture, can ȝe fynd
Leifsum for tyll commyt Idolatrie?
Quhilk bene to bow ȝour body or ȝour kne,
With deuote humyll adoratioun,
Tyll ony Ydoll maid of stone or tre,
Geueand thame offerand or oblatioun.

Quhy did ȝe gyf the honour, laude, and glore,
Pertenyng God (quhilk maid all thyng of nocht,
Quhilk wes, and is, and salbe euirmore)
Tyll Ymagis by mennis handis wrocht?
O fulysche folke, quhy haif ȝe succour socht
Off thame quhilk can nocht help ȝow in distres?

271

Ȝit reasonably reuolfe, in to ȝour thocht,
In stok nor stone can be non holynes.

In the desert the peple of Israell,
Moyses remanyng in the mont Synaye,
Thay maid one moltin Calf of fyne mettell,

Exodi. xxxii.

Quhilk thay did honour as thare God verraye;
Bot, quhen Moyses discendit, I heir saye,
And did consydder thare Ydolatrye,
Off that peple thre thousand gart he slaye,
As the scripture at lenth doith testifye.

Because the holye propheit Daniell

Daniell. .xiiii.

In Babilone Ydolatrie repreuit,
And wald nocht worschip thare fals Idoll Bell,
The hole peple at him wer so aggreuit,
To that effect that he suld be myscheuit,
Delyuerit hym tyll rampand Lyonis sewin;
Bot of that dangerous den he wes releuit
Throuch myrakle of the gret God of hewin.

Behald quhow Nabuchodonosor king

Dan. iii.

Into the vaill of Duran did prepare
One image of fyne Gold, one meruallous thing,
Thre score of cubyts heycht, and sax in square,
As more cleirlye the scripture doith declare,
To quhome all peple, by proclamatioun,
With bodeis bowit, and on thare kneis bare,
Rycht humelye maid adoratioun.

Ane gret wounder, that day, wes sene, also,
Quhow Nabuchodonosor, in his yre,
Tuke Sydrach, Misach, and Abednago,
Quhilks wald nocht bow thare kne, at his desyre
Tyll that Idoll, gart kast thame in the fyre,
For to be brynt, or he sterit of that steid.
Quhen he beleuit thay wer brynt, bone and lyre,
Wes nocht consumit one small hair of thair heid.

272

The Angell of the Lord wes with thame sene,
In that hait furneis passing vpe and doun,
In tyll ane rosye Garth as thay had bene,
None spott of fyre distenyng cote nor goun.
Off victorie thay did obtene the croun,
And wer, to thame that maid adoratioun
To that Ydoll, or bowit thare body doun,
One wytnessing of thare dampnatioun.

Quhat wes the cause, at me thow may demande,
That Salomone vsit none Ymagrye
In his tryumphand Tempyll for tyll stande,
Off Abraham, Ysac, Iacobe, nor Iesse,
Nor of Moyses, thare sauegarde throuch the see,
Nor Iosue, thare valȝeant Campioun?
Because God did command the contrarye
That thay sulde vse sic superstitioun.

Exodi. xx. Deut. v.

Behald quhow the gret God Omnipotent,
To preserue Israell frome Idolatrye,
Derectit thame one strait commandiment,
Thay suld nocht mak none caruit ymagrye,
Nother of gold, of syluer, stone, nor tre,
Nor gyf worschip tyll ony simlytude
Beand in hewin, in erth, nor in the see,
Bot onelye tyll his souerane celsitude.

Baru. vi.

The Propheit Dauid planely did repreue
Ydolatrye, to thare confutioun
In grauit stok or stone that did beleue,
Declaryng thame thare gret abutioun;
Spekand, in maner of dirysioun,
Quhow dede Idolis, be mennis handis wrocht,
Quham thay honourit with humyll orisioun,
Wer in the markat daylie sauld and bocht.

The Deuyllis, seand the euyll conditioun
Off the Gentylis, and thare vnfaithfulnes,

273

For tyll agment thare superstitioun,
In those Ydolis thay maid thare entres,
And in thame spak, as storyis doith expres.
Than men beleuit of thame to gett releif,
Askand thame help in all thare besynes;
Bot, finallye, that turnit to thare myscheif.

Traist weill, in thame is none Diuinitie,
Quhen reik & rowst thare fair colour doith faid:
Thocht thay haue feit, one fute thay can not flee,
Quhowbeit the tempyll byrn abone thair haid.
In thame is nother freindschip nor remaid.
In sic fyguris quhat fauour can ȝe fynd?
With mouth, and eris, & eine thocht thay be maid,
All men may se thay ar dum, deif, and blynd.

Quhowbeit thay fal doun flatlyngis on the flure,
Thay haif none strenth thare self to rais agane;
Thocht Rattonis ouir thame ryn, thay tak no cure;
Quhowbeit thai breik thare neck, they feil no pane.
Quhy sulde men psalmes to thame sing or sane?
Sen growand treis that ȝeirly berith frute
Ar more to pryse, I mak it to the plane,
Nor cuttit stockis, wanting boith crope and rute.

Off Edinburgh the gret Idolatrye
And manifest abominatioun,
On thare feist day, all creature may se.
Thay beir ane auld stock Image throuch the toun,
With talbrone, troumpet, schalme, and Clarioun,
Quhilk hes bene vsit mony one ȝeir bigone,
With preistis and freris in to processioun,
Siclyke as Bell wes borne throuch Babilone.

Aschame ȝe nocht, ȝe seculare prestis and freris,
Tyll so gret superstitioun to consent?
Ydolateris ȝe haue bene mony ȝeris,
Expresse agane the Lordis commandiment.

274

Quharefor, brether, I counsall ȝow, repent.
Gyff no honour to caruit stock nor stone;
Geue laude and glore to God Omnipotent
Allanerlie, as wyselie wryttis Ihone.

Fy on ȝow Freris that vsis for to preche,
And dois assist to sic Idolatrye.
Quhy do ȝe nocht the Ignorant peple teche
Quhow ane dede Image, caruit of one tre,
As it wer holy sulde nocht honourit be,
Nor borne on Burges backis vp and doun?
Bot ȝe schaw planely ȝour Ipocrasie,
Quhen ȝe passe formest in processioun.

Fy on ȝow fostraris of Idolatrye,
That tyll ane dede stock dois sic reuerence,
In presens of the peple, publykelie.
Feir ȝe nocht God, to commit sic offence?
I counsall ȝow, do ȝit ȝour diligence
To gar suppresse sic gret abusioun.
Do ȝe nocht so, I dreid ȝour recompence
Salbe nocht ellis bot clene confusioun.

Had sanct Frances bene borne out throuch the toun,
Or sanct Domnick, thocht ȝe had nocht refusit
With thame tyll haif past in processioun,
In tyll that cais sum wald haif ȝow excusit.
Now men may see quhow that ȝe haue abusit
That nobyll town, throuch ȝour Ipocrasye.
Those peple trowis that thay may rycht weill vs it,
Quhen ȝe pas with thame in to cumpanye.

Sum of ȝow hes bene quyet counsallouris
Prouocand princis to sched saikles blude,
Quhilk neuir did ȝour prudent predecessouris.
Bot ȝe lyke furious Phariceis, denude
Off charitie quhilk rent Christ on the rude.
For Christis floke, without malyce or yre,

275

Conuertit fragyll faltouris, I conclude,
Be Goddis worde, withouttin sweird or fyre.

Reid ȝe nocht quhow that Christ hes gyffin command,
Gyff thy brother doith oucht the tyll offend,

Math. xviii.

Than secretlye correct hym, hand for hand,
In freindly maner, or thow forther wend.
Gyff he wyll nocht heir the, than mak it kend
Tyll one, or two, be trew narratioun.
Gyf he, for thame, wyll nocht his mys amend,
Declare hym to the congregatioun.

And, gyf he ȝit remanith obstinat,
And to the holy kirk Incounsolable,
Than lyke ane Turke hald hym excomminicat,
And with all faithfull folk abhominabyll,
Banysing hym, that he be no more able
To dwell amang the faithfull cumpanye.
Quhen he repentis, be nocht vnmerciable,
Bot hym ressaue agane rycht tenderlye.

Bot our dum Doctoris of Diuinitie,
And ȝe of the last fonde religioun,
Off pure Transgressouris ȝe haue no petie,
Bot cryis to put thame to confusioun;
As cryit the Iowis, for the effusioun
Off Christis blude, in to thare byrnand yre,
Crucifige, so ȝe, with one vnioun,
Cryis fy, gar cast that faltour in the fyre.

Unmercifull memberis of the Antichrist,

Roma. xvi. Ephe. v.

Extolland ȝour humane traditione
Contrar the Institutione of Christ,
Effeir ȝe nocht Diuine punytione?
Thocht sum of ȝow be gude of conditione,
Reddy for to ressaue new recent wyne,
I speik to ȝow auld bosis of perditione,
Returne in tyme, or ȝe ryn to rewyne,

276

As ran the peruerst Prophetis of Baall,

iii. Reg. xviii.

Quhilkis did consent to the Idolatrye
Off wickit Achab, king of Israell,
Quhose nommer wer four hundreth and fyftie,
Quhilkis honourit that Idoll opinlye.
Bot, quhen Elias did preue thare abusioun,
He gart the peple sla thame creuellye;
So at one hour came thare confusioun.

I pray ȝow, prent in ȝour rememb[e]rance
Quhow the reid Freris, for thare Idolatrye,
In Scotland, Ingland, Spane, Italy, & France,
Upone one day wer puneissit pietuouslye.
Behald quhow ȝour awin brether, now laitlye,
In Ducheland, Ingland, Denmark, and Norowaye,
Ar trampit doun, with thare Ipocrasye,
And, as the snaw, ar meltit clene awaye.

I maruell that our Byschoppis thynkis no schame
To gyf ȝow freris sic preheminens,
Tyll vse thare office, to thare gret diffame,
Precheing for thame in opin audiens.
Bot, mycht A Byschope eik tyll his awin expens,
For ilk Sermone, ten Ducatis in his hand,
He wald, or he did want that recompens,
Go preche hym self, boith in to burgh and land.

I traist to se gude reformatione
From tyme we gett ane faithfull prudent king
Quhilk knawis the treuth and his vocatione.
All Publicanis, I traist, he wyll doun thring,
And wyll nocht suffer in his realme to ring
Corruppit Scrybis, nor fals Pharisiens,
Agane the treuth quhilk planely doith maling:
Tyll that kyng cum we mon tak paciens.

Now fairweill, freindis, because I can nocht flyte.
Quhowbeit I culde, ȝe mon hald me excusit,

277

Thocht I agane Ydolatrye Indyte,
Or thame dispyte that wyl nocht ȝit refus it.
I praye to God that it be no more vsit
Amang the rewlaris of this Regioun,
That commoun peple be no more abusit,
Bot gyf hym glore that bair the creuell croun,

Quhilk techeit ws, be his deuine Scripture,
Tyll rycht prayer the perfyte reddy way;
As wrytith Matthew, in his sext Chepture,
In quhat maner and to quhome we suld pray
One schort compendious orisone, euerilk day,
Most proffitabyll for boith body and saull;
The quhilk is nocht derectit, I heir say,
To Ihone, nor Iames, to Peter nor to Paull,

Nor none vther of the Apostlis twelf,
Nor to no Sanct, nor Angell in the Hewin,
Bot onely tyll our Father, God hym self.
Quhilk orisione it doith contene, full ewin,
Most proffitabyll for ws, petetionis sewin,
Quhilk we lawid folk the Pater Noster call.
Thocht we say Psalmis nyne, ten, or alewin,
Off all prayer this bene the principall,

Be reasoun of the makkar quhilk it maid,
Quhilk wes the Sonne of God, our Saluiour,
Be reasoun, als, to quhome it suld be said,
Tyll the Father of hewin, our Creatour,
Quhilk dwellis nocht in tempyll nor in tour.
He cleirlye seis our thocht, wyll, and intent:
Quhat nedith ws at vtheris seik succour,
Quhen in all place his power bene present?

Ȝe princis of the preistis, that suld preche,
Quhy suffer ȝe so gret abutioun?
Quhy do ȝe nocht the sempyll peple teche
Quhow and to quhome to dresse thare orisoun?

278

Quhy thole ȝe thame to ryn frome toun to toun,
In Pylgramage tyll ony Ymagreis,
Hopand to gett, thare, sum Saluatioun,
Prayand to thame deuotlye on thare kneis?

This wes the prettike of sum pylgramage.
Quhen fillokis, in to Fyfe, began to fon,
With Ioke & Thom than tuke thay thare vayage
In Angusse, tyll the feild Chapell of Dron.
Than Kyttoke thare, als cadye as ane Con,
Without regarde other to Syn or schame,
Gaiff Lowre leif at layser to loupe on:
Far better had bene tyll haif biddin at hame.

I haue sene pass one meruellous multytude,
Ȝong men and wemen, flyngand on thare feit,
Under the forme of feynit sanctytude,
For tyll adore one Image in Loreit.
Mony came with thare marrowis for to meit,
Committand, thare, fowll fornicatioun.
Sum kyst the claggit taill of the Armeit.
Quhy thole ȝe this abominatioun?

Off Fornicatioun and Idolatrye
Apperandlye ȝe tak bot lytill cure,
Seand the maruellous Infelicitye
Quhilk heth so lang done in this land indure,
In ȝour defalt quhilk heth the charge and cure.
This bene of treuth, my Lordis, with ȝour leue,
Sic pylgramage heth maid mony one hure,
Quhilk, gyf I plesit, planelye I mycht preue.

Quhy mak ȝe nocht the scripture manifest
To pure peple, twyching Idolatrye?
In ȝour precheing quhy haif ȝe nocht exprest
Quhow mony kyngis of Israell creuellye

279

Wer puneissit, be God, so rigorouslye?
As Ieroboam, and mony mo, but doute,
For wyrschippyng of caruit Imagerye,
War frome thare realmes rudlye rutit oute.

iii. Reg. xiii.

Quhy thole ȝe, onder ȝour Dominioun,
Ane craftye preist, or fenȝeit fals armeit,
Abufe the peple of this Regioun,
Onely for thare perticular profeit,
And, speciallye, that Heremeit of Lawreit?
He pat the comoun peple in beleue
That blynd gat seycht, and crukit gat thare feit,
The quhilk that palȝard no way can appreue.

Ȝe maryit men that hes trym wantoun wyffis,
And lusty dochteris of ȝoung tender aige,
Quhose honestie ȝe suld lufe as ȝour lyffis,
Permyt thame nocht to passe in pylgramage,
To seik support at ony stok Image.
For I haue wyttin gud wemen passe fra hame,
Quhilk hes bene trappit with sic lustis rage,
Hes done returne boith with gret syn and schame.

Gett vpe, thow slepist all to lang, O Lorde,
And mak one haistie reformatioun
On thame quhilk doith tramp doun thi gratious worde,
And hes ane deidly Indignatioun
Att thame quhilk makith trew narratioun
Off thy Gospell, schawing the verytie.
O Lord, I mak the supplicatioun,
Supporte our Faith, our Hope, and Charytie.

FINIS.

280

HEIR FOLLOUIS QUHOV KYNG NYNUS BEILDIT THE GRET CITIE OF NYNIUE, AND QUHOW HE UINCUSTE ZOROASTES, THE KYNG OFF BACTRIA.

[EXPERIENCE].

This Nynus, of Asseria king,
Quhen he had maid his conquessing,
To beild one Citie he hym drest,
Chosing the place quhare he thocht best,
Quhare he had first dominioun,
In Asseria, his awin regioun.

Gene. x.

Thocht Assur, as the scriptur says,
Quhilk come affore king Nynus dayis,
And foundit that famous Citie,
The quhilk was callit Nyniue,
Bot, as rehersis Diodore,
Nynus that Citie did decore
So maruellous tryumphantlye,
As ȝe sall heir Immedeatlye,
Upone the flude of Euphrates,
Quhilk to behauld gret wounder wes.
One hundreth and fyftye stagys
That Citie wes of lenth, I wys.
The wallis, one hundreth fute of heycht,
No wounder was thocht thay wer wycht.
Sick breid, abufe the wallis, thare was,
Thre cartis mycht sydlingis on thame pas.
Four hundreth stageis and four score
In circuit, but myn or more.
Off towris, aboute those wallis, I wene,
Ane thousand and fyne hundreth bene,
Off heycht two hundreth fute and more,
As wryttis famous Diodore.

281

The scripture makis mentioun,

Jona. iii.

Quhen God send Ionas to that toun,
To schaw thame of his puneisment,
Outthrouch the Citie quhen he went,
Thre dayis Iornay tyll hym it wes:
The Bybill sayis it wes no les.

My Sonne, now haif I schawin to the
Off the beildyng of Nyniue.
For the agmentyng of his fame,
Nynus gart call it efter his name.

Quhen he that gret Citie had endit,
To conques more ȝit he intendit,
And did depart frome Nyniue,
And rasit vp one gret arme
Off the most stalwarte men and stoute
Off all his Regionis rounde aboute,
In gret ordour tuke thare Iorna,
Towarte the realme of Bactria.
Off wycht fute men, I vnderstande,
He had sewintene hundreth thousande,
Withoute hors men and weirlyke cairtis,
Quhome he ordourit in sindry partis,
Quhilk tyll discryue I am nocht abyll,
Quhose nummer bene so vntrowabyll.

Zoroastes, that nobyll kyng,
Quhilk Bactria had in gouernyng,
That prudent Prince, as I heir tell,
Did in Astronomye precell,
And fand the Art of Magica,
With naturall science mony ma,
Seand king Nynus on the feilde,
Fordwart he cam, with speir and scheilde;
Foure hundreth thousand men he wes,
In his Armie thare wes no les;
And mett king Nynus, on the bordoure,
Rycht vailȝantlie, and in gude ordoure.
On the Uangarde of his Armie,
On thame he ruscheit rycht rudelie,

282

And of thame slew, as I heir saye,
One hundreth thousand men, that day.
The rest that chapit wer vnslane,
To Nynus gret oiste fled agane.

Off that king Nynus wes so noyit,
He restit neuir tyll he distroyit
All hoill that Regioun, vpe and doun,
And frome the King did reif the croun,
And maid the realme of Bactria
Subiectit tyll Asseria.
And in that samyn land, I wys,
He tuk to wyfe Semeramis,
Quha (as myne Author dois discryue)
Was, than, the lustiest on lyue.
That beand done, without sudgeorne
Tyll Nyniue he did returne,
With gret tryumphe of victorie.
As myne Authore dois specifie,
Boith Occident and Orient
War all tyll hym obedient.
It wald abhore the tyll heir red
The saikles blude that he did sched.
Quhen he had roung, as thow may heir,
The space of thre and fourtye ȝeir,
Beand in his excelland glore,
The dolent deith did hym deuore.
In quhat sorte, I am nocht certane.
Sum Author sayis that he wes slane,
And left, tyll bruke his Heretage,
One lytill Babe of tender aige.
Ȝoung Nynus wes the chyldis name,
Quhilk efter fluryste in gret fame.
Sum sayis that, be his wyffis treasoun,
Kyng Nynus deit in presoun,
As I sall schaw, or I hyne fair,
Quhow Diodore hath done declair.

FINIS

283

HEIR FOLLOWIS SUM OF THE VVOUNDERFULL DEDIS OF THE LUSTIE QUENE SEMERAMIS.

[EXPERIENCE].

Nynvs luffit so Ardentlye
Semeramis, his fair Ladye,
Thare wes no thyng scho wald command
Bot al obeyit wes fra hand.
Scho, seand hym so Amorous,
Scho grew proude and presumptuous,
And at the king scho did desyre
Fyue dayis to gouerne his Impyre.
And he, of his beneuolence,
Did grant hir that preheminence,
With Sceptour, Crown, and Robroyall,
And hole power Imperiall,
Tyll fyue dayis wer cum and gone,
That scho, as king, sulde ring allone.

Than all the Princis of the land
Duryng that tyme maid hir ane band.
With bankat Royall myrrellie
Scho treatit thame Tryumphantlie.
So, the first day, the peple all
Came tyll hir seruyce, bound and thrall.
Bot, or the secunde day wes gone,
Scho tuke sic glore to ryng allone,
Be one decreit, maid thame amang,
The king scho patt in presone strang.
I reid weill of his presoning,
Bot nocht of his delyuering.
Quhow euir, it wes in tyll his flowris
He did of deith suffer the schowris,
Any mycht nocht lenth his lyfe one houre,
Thocht he wes the first Concreoure,

284

Quhose Conquessing, for to conclude,
Wes nocht bot gret schedding of blude.
Now haue ȝe hard of Nynus king,
Quhow he began, and his ending,
Quhowbeid myne Author, Diodore,
Off hym haith wryttin mekle more.
Princis, for wrangus conquessing,
Doith mak, oft tymes, ane euyll ending.
Thocht he had lang prosperitie,
He endit with miseretie.

FINIS.

OFF KYNG NYNUS SEPULTURE.

EXPERIENCE.

The Quene a sepultur sche maid,
Quhar sche king Nynus body laid,
Off curius crafty wark & wycht,
The quhilk had stagis ix. of hycht,
& ten stagis of breid it wes:
Diodore saith it wes no les.
For aucht Stagis one myle thow tak,
And thairefter thy nummer mak.
So, be this compt, it wes, full rycht,
One myle als and one stage of hycht.
Except the Towre of Babilone,
So heych one wark I reid of none.

Semiramis, this lustye Quene,
Consyddring quhat dainger bene
To haif on King of tender aige,
Quhilk mycht nocht vse no vassalage,
Scho tuke one curagious consait,
Thinkand that scho wald mak debait,

285

Geue ony maid rebellioun
Contrar hir Sonne, or his Regioun,
Quhome sche did foster tenderly,
And kepit hym full quyetly.
Scho laid apart hir awin cleithyng,
And tuke the Rayment of ane king.
Quhen scho wes in tyll Armour dycht,
Mycht no man knaw hir be one knycht.
Scho valȝeantlye went to the weir,
And to gyf battell tuke na feir,
Dantyng all Realmes rounde aboute,
That all the warld of hir had doute,
More fortunat, in hir conquessing,
Nor wes hir Husband, Nynus king.

Babilone scho did fortyfie.
Templis and towris, tryumphandlie,
So plesandlye did thame prepair,
Quhilk in the erth had no compair.
Quhowbeid Nemrod, of quhome I spake,
The hydduous dungeoun he gart make,
And of the Citie the Fundiment,
To quhome God maid Impediment,
Quhare Nemrod left, thare scho began,
And pat to wark mony one man
Off all the Realmes round aboute.
Off most Ingyne scho socht thame oute.
Scho had, wyrkand with tre and stonis,
Twelf hundreth thousand men at onis.
Go reid the buke of Diodore,
And thow sall fynd the nummer more.
On euerilk syde of Euphrates
That nobyll Citie beildit wes,
And so that ryuer of renown
Ran throuch the mydpart of the town.
Ouerthort that flude scho bryggis maid
Off maruellous strenth, boith lang and braid.
Thay wer fyue stagis large of lenth:
On euerilk bryg scho maid ane strenth.

286

The circuit, as I said affore,
Foure hundreth stagis and four score.
The wallis hycht, quho wald discryue,
Thre hundreth fute, thre score, and fyue.
Sax Cairtis mycht pas, rycht easalie,
Abufe the wallis of that Citie,
Sydlingis, withoute Impediment.
Consydder, be ȝour Iugement,
Geue those wallis wer hie, or nocht,
And also curiouslye wer wrocht,
As Diodore hes done defyne,
Quhilk doith transcend my rude Ingyne,
Off Babilone the magnificens,
To quhome ȝe wald gyf no credens,
Geue I at lenth wald put in wryte,
Quhilk Diodore hes done indyte.
Compare of Cities fynd I none
Tyll Nyniue and Babilone.
Frome Nyniue in Asseria,
Tyll Babilone in Caldia,
By Bryggis plesandlye ȝe may pas,
Upone the flude of Euphratas.
Amang the fludis of Paradyce
This Euphratas maye beir the pryce.
All warkis quhilkis the Quene began
Transcendit the ingyne of man.
The proude Quene Pantasilia,
The Princes of Amasona,
With hir Ladyis tryumphandlye,
Att Troye quhilk faucht so wailȝeantlye,
Nor ȝit the fair Madin of France,
Danter of Inglis Ordinance,
To Semeramis, in hir dayis,
Wer no compare, as bukis sayis.
Except tryumphand Iulyus,
Strong Hanniball, or Pompeyus,
Or Allexander the Concreoure,

287

I fynd no gretter Werioure.

Wald I rehers, as wryttis Clerkis,
Hir wounderfull and vailȝeand werkis,
It wer to me one gret laubour,
And tiddious to the Auditour.
Quhat scho did in Ethopia,
And in the lande of Medea,
Beildand Cities, Castellis, and Towris,
Parkis, and Gardyngis of plesouris,
For the exaltyng of hir name,
And Immortall to mak hir fame.
Off Iarcieus the heych Montanis
Scho gart ryue down and mak thame planis.
Gret Orontes, that Montane wycht,
Twenty and fyue stagis of hycht,
Tyll hir Palyce to draw ane louche,
By fors of men scho raif it throche.

Had scho kepit hir Chastitie,
Scho mycht haue bene one A. per se.
Quhen scho had ordorit hir Impyre,
Off Uenus wark scho tuke desyre.
One secreit Mansioun scho gart mak,
Quhare scho maist plesandlye mycht tak
Ȝoung Gentyll men, for hir plesour;
The quhilk scho vsit abufe mesour.
One man allone mycht nocht be abyll
To stanche hir luste insaciabyll.
Quhen scho wes satifyit of one,
Scho gart ane vther cum anone.
The Lustiest of all the land
Come quyetlye, at hir command.
Quhen thay, at lenth, had lyin hir by,
Scho slew thame all, rycht creuelly.
Quhen hir Sone come tyll aige perfyte,
Off hym scho tuke so gret delyte,
Scho causit hym with hir to lye,
Amang the rest, rycht quyetlye.

288

Sum sayis, throuch sensuall lustis rage,
Scho band hym in to Mariage,
And held hym vnder tutorye,
To vphald hir auctoritye.

FINIS.

QUHOV THE QUENE SEMERAMIS, WITH ONE GRET ARMIE, PAST TO YNDE, AND FAUCHT WITH THE KYNG STAWROBATES. AND OF HIR MISERRABYLL END.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Qvhen Scho had lang tyme leuit in rest,
To conques more scho hir addrest,
Because of diuers scho hard tell
Quhow that the Ynde Orientell
Preceld in gret commoditeis,
As Bestiall, Cornis, and fructfull treis,
Al kynde of Spyce delicious,
Golde, Syluer, stonis precious,
And quhow that plentuous land did beir
Corne, Frute, and Wyne twyse in the ȝeir,
With Oliphantis Innumerabyll,
In Battell wounder terrabyll.
Scho, herand this, and mekle more,
Beleuand tyll agment hir glore,
Gart mak strait Proclamationis
In all and syndrie Nationis,
Schawand quhow it wes hir desyre,
All princis vnder hir Impyre,
In Egypt, and Arrabia,
In Perce, in Mede, and Caldia,

289

In Grece, in Caspia, and Hyrcane,
In Capadoce, Leid, and Maritane,
In Armanie, and Phrigia,
In Pamphilie, and Asseria,
That ilke Land, efter thare degre,
Sulde bryng tyll hir ane gret Armie,
In all the gudlye haist thay may,
And meit hir in tyll Bactriay,
Declaryng thame that hir intent
Was tyll pas to the Orient,
And mak Weir on the king of Ynde.
From tyme thay knew quhat wes hir mynde,
Than, be thare selfis, ilke Regioun
Come fordwart, with thare Garnisoun.
Tryumphantlye, in gude array,
Tyll Bactria tuke the reddy way,
And maid thare Mostouris to the Quene.
Bot sic ane sycht wes neuer sene,
In Battell ray so mony one Man
Att onis, sen God the warld began.
Bot Spanȝe, France, Scotland, Ingland,
Ducheland, Denmark, nor ȝit Yrland
War nocht Inhabit in those dayis,
Nor lang efter, myne Author sayis.

Cthesias he dois specifie
The noumber of this gret Armie,
Sayand, thare come, at hir command,
Fute men threttye hundreth thousand,
Off hors men, montit galȝeardlye,
Fyue hundreth thousand, veralye,
One hundreth thousand Camelis wycht;
On euerilk Cameill raid ane knycht
Preparit tyll passe in to all partis.
Thare wes ane hundreth thousand Cairtis;
Twoo thousand boittis with hir scho careis,
On Hors, Camelis, and Dromodareis.
Bryggis for to mak scho did conclude
Ouerthort Yndus, that furious flude,

290

Quhilk bene of Ynde the vtmoist bordoure.
On the quhilk flude, with rycht gude ordoure,
Off hir Bairgis sche bryggis maid,
Quhareon hir gret Oiste saifly raid.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, I wald men vnderstude
Quhow sic ane maruellous multytude
Mycht be attonis brocht to the feild,
Reddy to feycht with speir and scheild.
Sum men wyll Iuge this be ane fabyll,
The mater bene so vntrouabyll.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Itt may weill be, my Sonne (said he)
As be exempyll, we may se
Quhow Dauid, king of Israell,
His peple gart nummer and tell
Be Ioab, his cheif Capitane,
As holy Scripture schawis plane.
Off feychtand men, in to that land,
He fand threttyne hundreth thousand.
Sen Dauid, in that small countre,
Mycht haue rasit sic ane Armie,
To this Lady it wes no wounder,
The quhilk had greter Realmes ane hunder
Nor Dauidis lytill Regioun,
Thocht scho had mony A Legioun
Off men mo nor I tauld affore.
Tharefor, my Sonne, maruell no more.

Stawrobates, the kyng of Ynde,
Gretlie perturbit in his mynd,
Heryng of sic ane multytude,
To mak defens he did conclude,
And send one Message to the Quene,
Prayand hir Maiestie serene

291

That scho wald, of hir speciall grace,
Gyf hym Licence to leif in peace.
Failand of that, thocht he suld dee,
That he suld gar hir fecht or flee.
And tyll his God ane wowe he maid,
Gyff no peace mycht of hir be had,
And gyf he wan the victorye,
That he the Quene suld Crucifye.

At this bostyng the Quene maid bourdis,
Sayand, it sall nocht be: no wourdis
Sall gar me passe frome my purpose,
Bot mychtie straikis, as I suppose.
The Messingeir schew to the kyng
Off hir presumptuous answeryng.
Than Stawrobates, wyse and wycht,
Come fordwart, lyke ane nobyll Knycht,
With mony one thousand speir and scheild,
Arrayit Royallie on the feild,
Thynkand he wald his land defend,
Or in the Battell mak ane end.

The Quene, apone the vther syde,
Full of presumptioun and of pryde,
Hir Banaris plesandly displayit,
With hardy hart and vneffrayit.
Apone Indus, that famus flude,
Thay mett, quhare sched wes mekle blude.
In Bote, in Balingar, and Bargis,
The twa Armyis on vtherris chargis.
Semeramis the Battaill wan,
Quhare drownit and slane wer mony one man,
So that the walter of the flude
Ran reid, myxit with mannis blude.
The king of Ynde, with all his mycht,
Frome Yndus flude he tuke the flycht.
Tyll his cheif Citie he reterit
Quhare in his presens thare apperit,
In Battell raye, ane new armye.
Off rycht Inuincibyll Cheualrye,

292

With Elephantis ane hyddous nommer,
Quhilk efterwart maid mekle cummer.

Semeramis and hir cumpanye,
In the mene tyme, full creuellie
Distroyit the bordouris of that land,
Tuke presonaris mo than ten thousand.
Sche tuke one curagious consait,
Gret Elephantis to contrafait.
Sche had ten thousand Oxin hydis,
Weill sewit to gydder, bak and sydis,
With mouth, and nois, teith, Eris, and eine,
Quyke Elephantis as thay had bene,
Rycht weill stuft full of stray and hay,
Quhareof the Yndianis tuke affray.
Apone Camelis and Dromodareis
Those fals figouris with hir scho careis.
Sere Yndianis, quhen thay saw that sycht,
Afferitlye thay tuke the flycht,
For sic one sycht wes neuir sene,
Gyff naturall beistis thay had bene.
The Kyng hym self wes rycht afferit,
Tyll he the veritie had sperit,
And knew, be his exploratouris,
Thay wer bot fenȝeit fals figouris.

Than manfullye lyke men of weir,
Fordwart thay came withouttin feir.
Rycht so Semeramis the Quene,
Quhilk for one man wes, aye, fyftene.
Thir two Armeis full creuellye
Thay ruscheit to gydder so rudlie,
With hyddous cry and trumpettis sound,
Tyll thousandis dede laye on the ground.
Semeramis had sic one nummeir,
Tyll order thame it wes gret cummeir.
Than the gret Elephantis of ynde,
Rycht strang and hardy of thare kynde,
Fordwart thay came, and wald nocht ceis,
Tyll throcht the myddis of the preis

293

Off the gret oist thay rudlye ruscheit,
That men and horsse tyll erth trabuscheit.
Those fenȝeit beistis, withouttin spreit,
Wer fruschit and fulȝeit vnder feit.
The king of Ynde, with curage kene,
Mett with Semeramis the quene,
He rydand on ane Eliphand.
Bot scho with hym faucht hand for hand,
And gaif the king so gret assaye,
That he wes neuir in sic affraye.
To stryke at hym scho tuke no feir,
So weill sche vsit wes in weir.
His strakis scho had bot lytill comptit,
Wer nocht the king wes so weill montit.
Athir at vther straik so faste
Tyll thay wer tyrit at the laste.

The king he thocht hym self eschamit
With one woman to be diffamit,
And wes determit nocht to flee,
Thocht in that Battell he suld dee.
As man the quhilk disparit bene,
He rudely ran vpone the quene,
And throuch the arme gaif hir ane wound,
Quhilk tyll hir hart gaif sic one stound
That sche constranit wes to fle.
Than all the rest of hir Armie,
Quhen thay persauit that scho wes gone,
Tyll yndus flude thay fled, ilk one.
The Quene ouerthort the flude sche raid
On bryggis quhilkis wer of botis maid.
With hir, one sobir cumpanye,
Quhilk with hir fled affray[i]tlie
The Yndianis followit on the chace.
Than on the Bryggis come sic one prace
Off fleand folkis, quhilk wes gret wounder,
So that the Bargis brake in schonder.
Sum sank, sum doun the reuar ran.
Than drownit thare mony one nobyll man,

294

Quhilk wer gret piete tyll deplore,
As wryttis famous Diodore.

And, fynallie, for to conclude,
Wes neuer sched so mekle blude
At one tyme sen the warld began,
Nor slane so mony one saikles man;
And all throw the occasioun
And the prydefull perswasioun
Off this ambitious, wyckit Quene.
Sick one wes neuir hard nor sene.

Staurobates, the king of Ynde,
Gretlye Reioysit, in his mynde,
Off this tryumphe and victorye.
Semeramis, with hart full sorye,
Seand sa mony tane and slane,
Tyll hir countre returnit agane,
Lamentand fortunis variance,
Quhilk brocht hir to so gret myschance,
Affore quhilk wes so fortunat,
And than of confort desolat.

Hir Sonne, one man of perfectioun,
Consyddrand his subiectioun,
His lybertie he did desyre,
That he mychte gouerne his Impyre.
Seand his Mother vitious,
And, with that, so ambitious,
As myne Author doith specifye
He slew his Mother creuellye.
Quhat vther cause, or Intentioun,
I fynd no speciall Mentioun;
Sum sayis, to be at Lybertie
Sum sayis, for hir Adultrie.
None vther cause I can defyne,
Except punissioun deuyne.

Off this fair Lady coragious
Behald the endyng dolorous,
Quhilk wes bot twenty ȝeir of aige,
Quhen scho began hir vassalage,

295

And rang tryumphandlye, but weir,
The space of two and fourtye ȝeir.
Quhen scho wes slane, scho was thre score,
With ȝeris two, scho wes no more,
As Diodore wryttis in his buke,
His Cronikle quho lyste to luke.

Off this Lady I mak ane end,
Thynkand no way I can commend
Wemen for tyll be to manlye,
Nor men for tyll be womanlye.
For quhy, It bene the Lordis mynde
All Creature tyll vse thare kynde;
Men for tyll haue preheminens
And wemen vnder obediens,
Thocht all wemen inclynit be
Tyll haif the Soueranite,
As this Lady, quhilk wald nocht rest
Tyll scho hir Husband had subprest,
Tyll that intent that scho mycht ryng,
Allone to haif the gouernyng.

Ladyis no way I can commend
Presumptuouslye quhilk doith pretend
Tyll vse the office of ane kyng,
Or Realmes tak in gouernyng,
Quhowbeit thay wailȝeant be and wycht,
Goyng in Battell lyke one knycht,
As did proude Pantasilia,
The Princes of Amasona,
In mennis habyte, aganis reassoun.
Siclyke, I think dirisioun
One prince to be effaminate,
Of knychtlye corage desolate,
Neglectand his auctoritie,
Throuch beistlye sensualitie,
Accompanyit, boith day and nychtis,
With wemen, more than wailȝeant knychtis.
Sic kyngis I discommend at all,
Exempyll of Sardanapall.

296

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) schaw me quhow lang
The successioun of Nynus rang.

EXPE[RIENCE].
That sall I do, with diligens,
My Sonne (said he) or I go hens.
Sen I haif schawin, at thy disyre,
Quhat man began the first Impyre,
Now wald I it wer to the kend
Off that Impyre the fatell end.

FINIS

QUHOV KING SARDANAPALUS, FOR HIS VITIOUS LIFE, MAID ANE MISERABILL END.

[EXPERIENCE].

Betvix this Conquerour Nynus
And sensuall Sardanapalus
I can nocht fynd no speciall storye,
Worthy to put in memorye,
Except quhilk I haif done discryfe
Off Semerame, king Nynus wyfe.
Bot I can fynd no gude at all
To wrytt of kyng Sardanapall,
Quhilk wes the saxt and threttye kyng
Be lyne frome Nynus discendyng.
At lenth his lyfe for to declare
I thynk it is nocht necessare,
Because that mony cunnyng clerkis
Hes hym discryuit in thare werkis.

297

Quhow he wes last of Asserians
Quhilk had the hole preemynans,
That tyme of the first Monarche,
In Cronicles as thow may se,
The last and the most vitious kyng
Quhilk in that Monarche did ryng.
That Prince wes so effeminate,
With sensuall luste intoxicate,
He did abhor the cumpanye
Off his most nobyll chewalrye.
That he mycht haue the more delyte
Tyll vse his beistlye appetyte,
Conuersit with wemen nycht and daye,
And clothit hym in thare arraye,
So that na man that hym had sene
Could Iuge ane man that he had bene.
So, in huredome and harlatrye
Did keip hym self so quyetlye,
The Princis of Asserience
Off hym thay could gett no presence.
Thus leuit he contynualye,
Agane nature Inordinatlye.

Quhen to the Peirsis and the Medis
Reportit wer his vitious dedis,
With the Rewlaris of Babilone,
Thay did conclude, all in tyll one,
Thay wald nocht suffer for tyll ryng
Abufe thame sic ane vitious kyng.
Bot Arbates, ane Duke of Mede,
He Darflye tuke on hand that dede.

Bot first he come to Nyniue,
To see the kyngis Maiestie,
And tyll one of the kyngis gaird
He gaif one secreit ryche rewaird,
Tyll put hym in ane quyet place,
Quhare he mycht se the kyngis grace,
And be onsene with ony wycht.
Bot he saw nother King nor Knycht

298

In tyll his maisteris cumpanye,
Except wemen, allanerlye.
And as ane woman he wes cled,
With wemen counsalit and led,
And schamefullye he wes syttand,
With Spindle and with Rock spinnand.
Quhen Arbates that sycht had sene,
His corage rasit frome the splene,
And thocht it small difycultie
For tyll depryue his Maiestie.

Than rasit he the Persianis,
With Medis and Babilonianis.
Inarmit weill with speir and scheildis,
Tryumphantlye thay tuke the feildis.

The king rasit Asserianis,
To gidther with the Caldianis,
And thame resystit as he mycht,
Bot, fynallie, he tuke the flycht,
To saif hym self, in Nyniue.
Than segit thay that gret Citie,
Contynuallie, two ȝeir and more,
As wryttis famous Diodore,
Tyll that the flude of Euphrates
Arrose with sic one furiousnes,
Quhare throuch ane gret part of the toun
By violence wes doungin doun.
Than, quhen the kyng saw no remeid
Bot to be takin, or to be deid,
As man disparit, full of yre,
Gart mak ane furious flammand fyre,
And tuke his gold and Iowellis all,
With Sceptur, Croun, and Robe Royall,
With all his tender seruituris
That of his Corps had gretest curis,
To gydder with his lustye Quenis,
And all his wantoun Concubenis,
And in that fyre he did thame cast,
Syne lape hym self in, at the last,

299

Quhare all wer brynt in poulder small.
Thus endit kyng Sardanapall,
Withouttin ony repentence,
As may be sene be this sentence,

Heir followyng, quhilk he did indyte,
Affore his deith, in gret dispyte,
Quhilk is ane rycht vngodly thing,
As ȝe maye se be his dyting.

FINIS.

Epitaphium Sardanapali.

CVM te mortalem noris, presentibus exple
Delitijs animum, post mortem nulla voluptas,
Et venere, & cœnis, & plumis SARDANAPALI.
Now haif I schawin, with deligence,
The Monarche of Asserience,
The quhilk at Kyng Nynus began,
And endit at this myscheant Man,
And did Indure, withouttin weir,
Ane thowsand, twa hundreth, and fourty ȝeir,
As dois Indyte Ewsubius.
Reid hym, and thow sall fynd It thus.

FINIS.

HEIR ENDIS THE SECUND PART. AND BEGYNNIS THE THRID PART.

300

AND, IN THE FIRST, MAKAND NARRATIONE OF THE MISARABYLL DISTRUCTIOUN OF THE FYUE CIETEIS CALLIT SODOME, GOMORE, SYBOIN, SEGORE, AND ADAMA, WITH THARE HOLE REGIOUN, AND ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE SECUND, THRID, AND FERD MONARCHEIS; WITH THE MISARABYLL DISTRUCTIOUN OF IERUSALEM AND, LAST, OF THE SPIRITUALL MONARCHIE.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, I pray ȝow to me tell
Quhat notabyll thyngis that befell
Duryng the Ryng of Asseriens,
Quhilk had so lang prehemynens;
I mene of vther Nationis
Under thare dominationis.

EXPE[RIENCE].

That may be done in termys schorte,
(Said he) as storyis doith reporte.
Induryng this first Monarchie
Become that wofull misarie
Off Sodome, Gomore, and thare Regione,
As Scripture makis Mentione,
Quhose peple wer so sensuall
In fylthie Synnis vnnaturall,
The quhilk in to my vulgar veirs.
My toung abhorris to reheirs.
Lyke brutall beistis, by thare myndis,
Unnaturally abusit thare kyndis,

301

By fylthie stynkand Lychorie,
And most abhominabyll Sodomie.
As holy scripture doith discryue,
In that countre wer Citeis fyue,
Quhilk wer Sodome, and Gomora,
Seboin, Segore, and Adama.
Amang thame all funde wes thare none
Undefylit, bot Lott allone.

Holy Abraham dwelt neir hand by,
Quhilk prayit for Lott effectuously.
For God maid hym aduertysment,
That he wald mak sic punyschement.
To Lott two Angellis God did sende,
Hym frome that furye tyll defende.
Quhen the peple of that regioun
Saw the Angellis cum to the toun,
Transformit in to fair ȝoung men,
Thay purposit thame for to ken,
And abuse thame vnnaturallye,
With thare foule stynkand Sodomye.
Off that gude Lott wes wounder woo,
And offerit thame his Douchteris twoo,
Thame at thare plesour for tyll vse,
Bot thay his Douchteris did refuse.
And then the Angellis, be thare mycht,
Those men depryuit of thare sycht,
And so, perfors, leitt thame allone.
To Lottis lugyng quhen thay wer gone,
Thay hym commandit haistelie
For tyll depart of that Citie.
That foule vnnaturall Lychorie
A vengeance to the hewin did crye,
The quhilk did mofe God tyll sic yre,
That frome the hewin Brintstone and fyre,
With awfull thoundryng, ranit doun,
And did consume that hole regioun.
Off all that land chapit no mo
Except Lott and his Douchteris two.

302

His wyfe wes turnit in A stone,
So wyfles wes he left allone,
For scho wes Inobedient,
And kepit no commandiment.
Quhen the Angell gaif thame command
Sone tyll depart out of that land,
He monyste thame, vnder gret pane,
Neuer to luke bakwart agane.
Quhen Lottis wyfe hard the thoundring
Off flammand fyre and lychtnyng,
The vgly cryis lamentabyll
Off peple most appouentabyll,
For none of thame had fors to flee,
Scho ȝarnit that sorrowfull sycht to see,
And, as scho turnit hir, anone
Scho wes transformit in a stone,
Quhare scho remanis tyll this daye.
Off hir I haue no more to saye.

To schaw at leynth I am nocht abyll
That pietious proces lamentabyll,
Quhow Ceteis, Castellis, Tounis, and Towris,
Uillagis, Bastailȝeis, and Bowris,
Thay wer all in to poulder drewin;
Forrestis be the ruttis vprewin;
Thare Kyng, thare Quene, and peple all,
Ȝong and auld, brynt in poulder small.
No Creature wes left on lyfe,
Foulis, Beistis, Man, nor Wyfe;
The erth, the Corne, herb, frute, and tre,
The Babbis vpone the Noryse kne,
Rycht suddantlye, in one Instent,
Unwerly come thare Iugement,
As it come in the tyme of Noye,
Quhen God did all the warld distroye,
For that self Syn of Sodomye,
And most abhominabyll bewgrye.
That vyce at lenth for tyll declare,
I thynk it is nocht necessare.

303

Quhen all wes brynt, flesche, blud, & bonis,
Hyllis, valais, stokis, and stonis,
The Cuntre sank, for to conclude;
Quhare now standith ane vglye flude,
The quhilk is callit the dede see,
Nixt to the cuntre of Iudee,
Quhose stynkand strandis, blak as tar,
The flewre of it men felith on far.
In tyll Orocius thow may reid
Off that cuntre the lenth and breid.
Of lenth, fyftye mylis and two,
And fourtene myle in breid, also.

Lott of his wyfe wes so agast
That he tyll A wyld Montane past.
Off cumpanye he had no mo
Except his lustye Douchteris two,
And, be thare prouocatioun,
As Moyses makith narratioun,
Allone in to that montane wylde,
His Douchteris boith he gat with chylde.
For thay beleuit, in thare thocht,
That all the warld wes gone to nocht,
As it become of that Natioun,
Thynkand that Generatioun
Wald faill, withoute thay craftellye
Gar thare Father with thame to lye.
And so thay fand ane crafty wyle,
Quhow thay thare Father mycht begyle,
And causit hym to drynk wycht wyne,
Quhilk men to Lychorye doith Inclyne.
Quhen he wes full, and fallin on sleip,
His Douchteris quyetlye did creip
In tyll his bed, full secreitlye,
Prouokand hym with thame to lye.
And knew nocht quhow he wes begylde,
Tyll boith his Douchteris wer with chylde;
And bure two Sonnis, in certane,
Thay beand in that wyld Montane,

304

Off quhome two Nationis did proceid,
As in the scripture thow may reid.
In the quhilk scripture thow may se
Att lenth this wofull misarie.

This misarie become, but weir,
From Noeis flude thre hundreth ȝeir,
To gidther with four score and alewin,
As comptit Carione, full ewin.
And efter Noeis deith, I ges,
Ane and fourtye ȝeir thare wes,
Quhen Abraham was of aige, I wene,
Foure score of ȝeris and nynteine,
Quhen this foule Syn of Sodomye,
Was puneisit so regorouslye.
Gret God Preserue ws, in our tyme,
That we commit nocht sic ane cryme.

Tiddius It wer for me to tell
This Monarche duryng quhat befell,
And wounderis that in erth wer wrocht,
Quhilk to thy purpose langith nocht.

Exod. i.

As quhow the peple of Israell
Did lang tyme in to Egypt dwell,
And of thare gret puneisioun,
Throuch Pharois persecusioun;
And quhow Moyses did thame conuoye

Exod. xiiii.

Throuch the reid sey, with mekle Ioye,
Quhare kyng Pharo, rycht misarably,
Wes drownit, with all his huge army;
And quhow that peple wandrand wes
Fourtye ȝeiris in wyldernes.

Exod. xx.

Moyses, that tyme, as I heir saye,
Ressauit the Law on Mont Sinay.

Iosue iii.

That tyme, Iosue throuch Iordan
Led those peple to Canaan,
Quhare Saule, Dauid, and Salamone,
With Hebrew Kyngis mony one,
Did rychelye ryng in that countre,
Induryng this first Monarche.

305

The Sege of Thebes, misarabyll,
Quhare blude wes sched, Incomparabyll,
Off nobyll men, in to those dayis,
With vtheris terribyll affrayis.
As quhow the Grekis wrocht vengeance
Apone the nobyll Troyiance,
Because that Pareis did conuoye,
Perfors, fair Helena to Troye,
Quhilk wes king Menelaus wyfe,
Quhare mony one thousand loste thare lyfe.

That tyme, the vailȝeant Hercules
Out throuch the warld did hym addres,
Quhare he did mony ane douchtye deid,
As in his storye thow may reid;
And quhow, throuch Dyonere, his wyfe,
That Campione did lose his lyfe.
In flammand fyre full furiouslye
The deith he sufferit creuellye.

That tyme, Remus and Romolus
Did found that Citie most famous
Off Rome, standing in Italie,
As in thare storye thow may se.
Wald thow reid Titus Leuius,
Thow suld fynd warkis wounderus,
Quhose douchtye deidis ar weill kende,
And salbe to the warldis ende,
Thocht thay began with creueltie,
And endit with misaritie,
As bene the maner, to conclude,
Off all scheddaris of saikles blude.

In Grece the ornat Poetry,
Medecene, Musike, Astronomy,
Duryng this first Monarche began,
Be Homerus, that famous man,
To gydder with Hesiodus,
As diuers Auctoris schawis ws.
It wer lang to put in ryme
The bukis quhilk thay wret in thare tyme,

306

Thir wer the actis principell
That Monarche duryng quhilk befell.

Gen. xvii.

As for gude Abraham and his seid,
In to the Bibyll thow may reid,
Quhow, in this tyme, as I heir tell,
Began the Kyngdome Spirituell,
As I haue schawin to the affore,
Quharefor I speik of thame no more.

FINIS.

ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE SECUND, THRID, AND FERD MONARCHE.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) quhilk wes the man
That the nyxt Monarchye began?

EXPE[RIENCE].

Cyrus (said he) the kyng of Pers,
As Cronicles hes done rehers,
Prudent, and full of Pollicye,
Began the secunde Monarchye,
For he wes the most godly kyng
That euer in Pers or Mede did ryng.
For he, of his Benyngnitie,
Delyuerit frome Captyuitie,
The hole Peple of Israell,
In to the tyme of Daniell,
The quhilkis had bene presoneris,
In Babilone, sewin score of ȝeris.
Tharefor God, of his grace benyng,
Gaif hym ane diuyne knawleging.

307

Duryng his tyme, as I heir tell,
He vsit counsall of Daniell.
Carione at lenth doith specifie
Off his maruellous Natyuitie,
And of his vertuus vpbrynging,
And quhow he vincuste Cresus king,
With mony vther vailȝeant deid,
As in to Carione thow may reid,
Quhose Successioun did indure
Tyll the tent Kyng; thareof be sure.

Bot, efter his gret conquessyng,
Rycht miserabyll wes his endyng.
As Herodotus doith discryfe,
In Scythia he lost his lyfe,
Quhare the vndantit Scethianis
Uincuste those nobyll Persianis.
And, efter that Cerus wes dede,
Quene Tomyre hakkit of his hede,
Quhilk wes the quene of Scethianis,
In the dispyte of Persianis.
Scho kest his heid, for to conclude,
In tyll ane vessell full of blude,
And said thir wourdis, creuellye:
Drynk, now thy fyll, gyf thow be drye,
For thow did aye blude schedding thryste.
Now drynk at laser, gyf thow lyste.
Efter that, Cyrus successioun
Off all the warld had possessioun,

Tyll Allexander, with swerd and fyre,
Obtenit, perfors, the thrid Impyre,
Quhilk wes the king of Macedone,
With vailȝeant Grekis mony one,
In battell fell and furious,
Uincuste the mychtie Darious,
Quhilk wes the tent and the last kyng
Quhilk did efter king Cyrus ryng.
As for this potent Empriour,
Allexander the Conquereour,

308

Geue thow at lenth wald reid his ryng,
And of his creuell conquessyng,
In Inglis toung, in his gret buke,
Att lenth his lyfe thare thow may luke:
Quhow Allexander, that potent Kyng,
Wes twelf ȝeris in his Conquessyng,
And quhow, for all his gret conquest,
He leuit bot ane ȝeir in rest,
Quhen be his Seruand secretlye
He poysonit wes, full pietuouslye.

Lucane doith Allexander compair
Tyll thounder, or fyreflaucht in the air,
One creuell Planeit, A mortall weird
Doun thryngand peple with his sweird.
Ganges, that most famous flude,
He myxit with the Indianis blude,
And Euphrates, with the blude of Pers.
Quhose creueltie for to rehers,
And saikles blude quhilk he did sched,
War rycht abhominabyll to be red.
Efter his schort prosperitie,
He deit with gret miseritie.

Itt wer to lang for to dissydit
Quhow all his realmes wer deuydit.
Aye quhill that Cesar Iulyus,
Quhen he had vincust Pompeyus,
Wes chosin Emperiour and kyng,
Abufe the Romanis for tyll ryng,
That potent Prince wes the first man
Quhilk the ferd Monarche began,
And had the hole Dominioun
Off euerilk land and Regioun,
Quhose successouris did ryng, but weir,
Ouer the warld, mony one hundreth ȝeir.
Bot gentyll Iulyus, allace,
Rang Empriour bot lytill space,
Quhilk I thynk petye tyll deplore.
In fyue Moneth and lytill more,

309

By fals exhorbitant treasoun,
That prudent Prince wes trampit doun
And murdrest, in his counsall hous,
By creuell Brutus and Cascius.

Efter that Iulyus wes slane,
Did ryng the gret Octauiane,
Off Empriouris one of the best.
Duryng his tyme wes peace and rest
Ouer all the warld, in ilk regioun,
As storyis makith mentioun.
And als I mak it to the plane,
Duryng the tyme of Octauiane,
The Sonne of God, our Lord Iesew,
Tuke mankynd of the Uirgine trew,
And wes, that tyme, in Bethelem borne,
To saif mankynde, quhilk wes forlorne,

Math. ii.

As Scripture makith narratioun
Off his blyst Incarnatioun.

Now haif I tald the, as I can,
Quhow the four Monarchyis began.
Bot, in thy mynde, thow may consydder
Quhow warldly power bene bot slydder,
For all thir gret Impyris ar gone.
Thow seis thare is no Prince allone
Quhilk hes the hole Dominioun,
This tyme, of euery Regioun.

COUR[TIOUR].

Father, quhat reasone had those kyngis
Reuarris to be of vtheris ryngis,
But ony rycht or Iuste querrell,
Quhairthrouch that thay mycht mak battell,
And commoun pepyll to dounthyrng?
To this (said I) mak answeryng.

310

My Sonne (said he) that sall be done,
As I best can, and that rycht sone.

Thir Monarcheis, I vnderstand,
Preordinat wer by the command

Dani. vii.

Off God, the Plasmatour of all,
For to doun thryng and to mak thrall
Undantit Peple vitious,
And als for to be gratious
To thame quhilk vertuous wer and gude,
As Daniell heth done conclude
At lenth, in tyll his Propheseis,
Quhow thare suld be four Monarcheis.
His secund Chepture thow maye see,
Quhow, efter the first Monarchie,
Quhen Nabuchodonosor kyng
Ane Ymage sawe, in his slepyng,
With austeir luke, boith heych and breid
And of fyne pure Gold wes his heid,
His breist and armes of syluer brycht,
His wamb of Copper, hard and wycht,
His loynis and lymmis of Irne rycht strong,
His feit of clay Irne myst among.
Frome A montane thare come allone,
But hand of man, A mekle stone,
Quhilk on that Figouris feit did fall,
And dang all doun in poulder small.

Off quhose Interpretatioun
Doctouris doith mak Narratioun.
The hede of gold did signifye,
First, of Asserianis Monarchye.
The syluer breist thay did apply
To Persianis quhilk rang secundly.
The wambe, of copper or of brasse,
Thridly, to Grekis comparit wasse.
His loynis and lymmis of Irne and steill,
Clerkis hes thame comparit weill

311

To Romanis, throuch thare diligence
To haue the Feird Preemynence
Abufe all vther Natioun.
Be this Interpretatioun,
The myxit feit with Irne and clay
Did signifye this letter day,
Quhen that the warld sulde be deuydit,
As efterwart salbe disydit.
To Christ is signifyit the stone,
Quhose Monarche sall neuer be gone;
For vnder his Dominioun
All Princis sall be trampit doun.
Quhen that gret kyng Omnipotent
Cumis to his generall Iugement,
His Monarche, than, salbe knawin,
As efter sall be to the schawin.

And als the Scripture sall the tell
Quhow, in the aucht of Daniell,
He saw, in to his visioun,
Be ane plane expositioun,
Quhow that the Grekis sulde wyrk vengeence
Upone the Medis and Persience;
Comparand Grekis tyll ane Gote
With ane horne, fers, furious, and hote,
Quhilk slew the Ram with hornis two,
Comparit tyll Pers and Mede, all so.
And so, be Daniellis prophesyis,
All thir gret mychtie Monarchyis,
The quhilkis all vther realmes supprysit,
Be the gret God thay wer deuysit.
As he of Tytus, the Romane,
Sonne and Air to Uespasiane,
Maid hym ane Furious Instrument,
To put the Iowis to gret torment,
Quhilk I purpose, or I hyne fair,
Schortlie that processe to declair.

FINIS.

312

OF YE MOST MISERABYL AND MOST TERRABILL DISTRUCTIOUN OF IERUSALEM.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) declare to me,
Induryng this ferd Monarchie
The maist Infortune that befell.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne (said he) that sall I tell.
The moist and manyfest misarie
Became apon the gret Cetie
Ierusalem, quhen it wes supprest,
As storyis makis manifest.

Baru. vi.

Bot, as the Scripture doith deuyse,
Ierusalem wes distroyit twyse.
First, for the gret Idolatrye
Quhilk thay commyttit in Iowrye.
The honour aucht to God allone
Thay gaif Figuris of stoke and stone.
Affore Christis Incarnatioun
Come this first desolatioun,
Fyue hundreth ȝeris, four score, and ten,
In Cronicles as thow may ken.
Quhow Nabuchodonosor, kyng,
That famous Citie did doun thryng;
Thare Kyng, with peple mony one,
Brocht thame, all bound, to Babilone,
Quhare thay remanit Presoneris
The space of thre score and ten ȝeris.
And that first desolatioun
Wes callit the Transmigratioun.
Wes no man left, in all thare landis,
Bot Purellis lauborand with thare handis,

313

Tyll mychtie Cyrus, king of Pers,
As Daniell heth done rehers,
Wes mouit, be God, for tyll restore
The Iowis quhare that thay wer afore.

Geue I neglect, I wer to blame,
The last Sege of Ierusalem,
Quhose rewyne wes most miserabyll,
And for to tell rycht terrabyll.
Wes neuer, in erth, Cetie nor toun,
Gatt sic extreme distructioun.
The townis of Tyre, Tebes, nor Troye,
Thay sufferit neuer half sic noye.
The Emprioure Uespasiane
He did deuyse that Sege, certane.

Thare wes the Prophesie compleit
Quhilk Christ spake on mont Olyueit.
Quhen he Ierusalem beheld,

Luc. xix. & xxi. Mark xiii.

The teris frome his eine disteld.
Seand, be Diuyne prescience,
The gret distructioun and vengence
Quhilk wes to cum on that Cetie,
His hart wes persit with Petie,
Sayand: Ierusalem, and thow knew
Thy gret rewyne, sore wald thow rew.
For no thyng I can to the schaw,
The veritie thow wyll nocht knaw,
Nor hes in consydderatioun
Thy holy visitatioun.
Thy peple wyll no way considder,
Quham gadtherit I wald haif to gidder,

Mathew xxiii.

As errand scheip bene with thare hirdis,
Or as the Hen gadderis her byrdis
Under hir wyngis, tenderlye,
Quhilk thay refusit dispitfullye.
Quharefor sall cum that dulefull day,
That no remedy mak thow may:
Thy Dungiounis sall be dung in schounder,
So that the warld sall on the wounder;

314

Thy tempyll, now most tryumphand,

Mathew xxiiii.

Sall be tred doun amang the sand.
And, as he said, so it befell,
As heir efter I sall the tell.

COUR[TIOUR].
Schaw me (said I) with circumstance,
The speciall cause of that myschance.

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) as scripture doith conclude,
For scheddyng of the saikles blude
Off Prophetis quhilkis God to thame send,
And, als, because that thay myskend
Iesu, the Sonne of God Souerane,
Quhen he amang thame did remane.
For all the Myraklis that he schew,
Maliciouslye thay hym mysknew;
Thocht, be his gret power diuyne,

Ihon. ii.

The walter cleir he turnit in wyne,
And, be that self power and mycht,
To the blynde borne he gaif the sycht,
And gaif the crukit men thair feit,
And maid the lypir haill compleit.

Ihon. xi.

He halit all, and rasit the dede,
Ȝit held thay hym at mortall fede.

Math. x.

Because he schew the veritie,
Thay did conclude that he sulde de.

The Byschoppis, princis of the preistis,

Mathew xxvii.

They grew so boildin, in thare breistis,
The Scrybis, the Doctouris of the law,
Off God nor man quhilkis stude none aw,
On Christ Iesu to wyrk vengeance.
Rycht so, the fals Pharesiance,
Ane Sect of fenȝeit Religioun,
Deuysit his confusioun,

315

And send thare seruandis, at the last,
And with strang cordis thay band hym fast,

Iho. xix.

Syne scurgit hym, boith bak and syde,
That none for blude mycht se his hyde.
Thare wes nocht left ane penny breid
Unwoundit, frome his feit tyll heid.
In maner of dirisioun,
Thay plett for hym ane creuell croun
Off prunȝeand thornis scharpe and lang,
Quhilk on his hewinlye heid thay thrang,
Syne gart hym, for the gretter lack,
Beir his awin Gallous, on his back,
Tyll the vyle place of Caluare,
Quhare mony ane thousand man mycht se.

That Innocent thay tuke, perforce,
And platt hym bakwart to the Croce.
Throuch feit and handis gret nalis thay thryst,
Tyll blude aboundantlye out bryst.
Without grunschyng, clamor, or crye,
That pane he sufferit patientlye.
And, for agmentyng of his grefis,
Thay hangit hym betuix two thefis,
Quhare men mycht se the bludy strandis
Quhilkis sprang furth of his feit and handis.
Frome thornis, thristit on his heid,
Ran doun the bulryng stremis reid.
In the presens of mony one man,
That blude royall on roches ran.
Schortly to say, that heuinlye Kyng
In extreme dolour thare did hyng,
Tyll he said Consumatum est;
With A loude crye, he gaif the gaist.
Quhen he wes dede, thay tuke one dart,
And peirst that Prence outthrouch the hart,
Fra quham thare ran walter and blude.
The erth than trymblit, to conclude.

Phebus did hyde his beymes brycht,
That throuch the warld thare wes no lycht.

316

The gret vaill of the tempyll raue.
The dede men rais out of thare graue,
And in the Cetie did appeir,
As in the Scripture thow may heir.
Than Ioseph of Abaramathie,
Did bury hym rycht honestlie.
Bot ȝit he rose, full gloriouslye,

Ihon. xx.

On the thrid day, tryumphandlye.
With his Disciplis, in certane,
Fourtye dayis he did remane;

Actis. i.

Efter that, to the heuin ascendit.
Thir Iowis no thyng thare lyfe amendit,
Nor gaif no credens tyll his sawis,
As at more lenth the storye schawis,
Bot creuellye thay did oppres
All men that Christis name did profes,
And persecutit mony one.

Actis. v.

Thay presonit boith Peter and Ihone,
And Stewin thay stonit to the dede.
Frome Iames the les thay straik the hede.

Actis. vi.

This wes the cause, in conclusioun,
Off thare creuell confusioun.

The prudent Iow, Iosephus, sayis
That he wes present in those dayis,
And, in his buke, makith mentioun,
Quhow, efter Christis Ascentioun
The space of twa and fourty ȝeris,
Began those creuell mortall weris,
The secund ȝeir of Uespasiane,
Quhare mony takin wer and slane.
Iosephus planely doith conclude,
Wes neuer sene sic one multytude,
Affore that tyme, in to the toun,
Quhilk come for thare confusioun.
Thare gret Infortune so befell,
That all the Princis of Israell
Conuenit agane the tyme of Peace,
Bot tyll returne thay had no grace

317

The bald Romanis, with thare Chiftane,
Tytus, the Sonne of Uespasiane,
Thare Army ouer Iudea spred.
Than all men to the Ciete fled,
Beleuand thare to get releif;
Bot all that turnit to thare myscheif.

The Romanis lappit thame about,
That be no waye thay mycht wyn out.
Sax Moneth did that Sege indure,
Quhare loste wer mony one creature,
Quhilkis thare in misary did remane,
Tyll thay wer takin all, or slane.
Duryng the tyme of this assailȝe,
Thare meit, and drynk, and all did failȝe.
For thare wes sic ane multytude
That thousandis deit for falt of fude.
Necessitie gart thame eit, perforsse,
Dog, Catt, and Rattone, Asse, and horsse.
Ryche men behuffit tyll eait thare gold,
Syne deit of hunger mony fold.
Sic hunger wes, without remeid
The quik behufit tyll eit the deid.
The fylth of Closettis mony eit;
To lenth thare lyfe thay thocht it sweit.

The famous Ladyis of the toun,
For falt of fude, thay fell in swoun.
Quhen thay mycht gett none vther meit,
Thay slew thare propir Bairnis to eit.
Bot all for nocht: dispytfullye,
Thare awin sowldiouris, full gredelye,
Reft thame that flesche most misarabyll,
And thay, with murnyng lamentabyll,
For extreme hunger, ȝald the spreit.
Thare wes the Prophesie compleit,

Luc. xxiiii.

As Christ affore maid narratioun,
The day of his grym Passioun.
Quhen that the Ladyis for hym murnit,
Full pietuouslye he to thame turnit,

318

And said: douchterris, murne nocht for me;
Murne on ȝour awin posteritie.
Within schort tyme sall cum the day
That men of this Ciete sall say,
Quhen thay ar trappit in the snair,
Blyst be the wamb that neuer bair.
The baren papis, than, thay sall blys;
That dulefull day ȝe sall nocht mys.
This prophesie it come to pas,
That day, with mony lowde allas.
Sic sorrowfull lamentatioun
Wes neuer hard in that natioun.
Seand those lustye Ladyis sweit
Deand for hunger in the streit,
Thare husbandis nor thare chyldring
Mycht geue to thame na conforting,
Nor ȝit releif thame of thare harmis,
Bot atheris deand in vtheris armis.
Efter this wofull Indigence,
Amang thame rose sic Pestilence,
Quhare in thare deit mony hounder,
Quhilk tyll declare it wer gret wounder.

And, for fynall conclusioun,
Those weirlyke wallis thay dang doun.
Prince Tytus, with his Chewalrye,
With sound of trompe, Tryumphandlye,
He enterrit in that gret Ciete.
Bot tyll declare I thynk piete
The panefull clamour horrabyll,
Off woundit folk most miserabyll.
Thare wes nocht ellis bot tak and slay,
For thare mycht no man wyn away.
The strandis of blude ran throuch the stretis
Off dede folk trampit vnder fetis.
Auld Wedowis in the preis wer smorit;
Ȝoung Uirginis, schamefully deflorit;
The gret Tempyll of Salamone,
With mony A curyous caruit stone,

319

With perfyte pynnakles on hycht,
Quhilkis wer rycht bewtyfull and wycht,
Quhare in ryche Iowellis did abound,
Thay ruscheit rudlye to the ground,
And sett, in tyll thare furious yre,
Sancta Sanctorum in to fyre,
And, with extreme confusioun,
All thare gret Dungionis thay dang doun.

Thare bursin wer the boildin breistis
Off Byschoppis, princis of the preistis.
Thare takin wes the gret vengeence
On fals Scrybis and Pharisience.
All thare payntit Ipocrasie
That tyme, mycht mak thame no supplie.
That day thay dulefullye repentit
That to the deith of Christe consentit:
Thocht it wes oure Saluatioun,
Itt wes to thare Dampnatioun,
The vengeance of the blude saikles,
Frome Abell tyll Zacharies,
That day apon Ierusalem fell.
Bot tiddius it wer to tell
The gret extreme confusioun,
And of blude sic effusioun.
Wes neuer slane so mony ane man,
At one tyme, sen the warld began.
The Iowis, that day, gat thare desyre,
Quhilk thay did aske, in to thare yre,
As bene in Scripture specifyit,
The day quhen Christe wes Crucifyit.
Quhen Ponce Pylat, the precedent,
Said to thame, I am Innocent

Math. xxvii.

Off the Iust Blude of Christ Iesus,
Thay cryit, his Blude lycht vpon ws,
And on our Generatioun.
Thay gat thare Supplicatioun.
That day, with mony cairfull cry,
Thare blude wes sched aboundantly.

320

Iosephus wryttith, in his buke,
His Cronicle quho lyste to luke,
Duryng that creuell Sege, certane,
Wer alewin hundreth thowsand slane;
Off Presonaris, weill tauld and sene,
Foure score of thousandis, and sewintene.
Out of the land thay did expell
All the peple of Israell,
And, for thare gret Ingratytude,
Thay leif ȝit vnder Seruytude.
Thare is no Iow, in no cuntre,
Quhilk hes one fute of propertie,
Nor neuer had, withouttin weir,
Sen this day fyuetene hundreth ȝeir,
Nor neuer sall, I to the schaw,
Tyll that thay turne to Christis law.

Sum sayis that Iowis mony fald
Wer thretty for ane penny sald;
As Iudas sauld the Kyng of Glore
For thretty pennyis, and no more.

Efter that mony wer myscheuit,
Quhen nouellis past quhow lang thay leuit
Apone thare Gold, withouttin doute,
Thay slyt thare bellyis, to sers it oute.
The rest in Egypt thay did sende,
Presonaris to thare lyuis ende.
Tytus tuke, in his cumpanye,
Gret nummer of the most worthye.
With hym to Rome he led thame bound,
Syne creuelly did thame confound,
His victory for tyll decore,
And for agmentyng of his glore.
Gart put thame in to publict placis,
Quhare all folk mycht behald thare facis;
Syne with wyld Lyonis creuellye
He gart deuore thame dulefullye.

This hie, Tryumphand, mychtie toun
At Pasche wes put to confusioun,

321

Because that in the tyme of Peace
Thay Crucifyit the Kyng of grace.
Sum hes this mater done indyte
More Ornatly than I can wryte,
Quharefor I speik of it no more.
Onely to God be laude and glore.

FINIS.

OFF YE MISERABYLL END OFF CERTANE TYRANE PRINCIS. AND, SPECIALLYE, THE BEGYNARRIS OF THE FOUR MONARCHEIS.

[EXPERIENCE.]

Now haue I done declare, at thy desyris,
As thow demandit, in to termys schort,
And quhow began the principall impyris,
As Cronicle and Scripture dois report.
Quhairfor, my Sone, I hartly the exhort,
Perfytlie prent in thi rememb[e]rance
Off this Inconstante warld the variance.

The Princis of thir foure gret Monarcheis,
In thare most hiest pompe Imperiallis,
Traistyng to be moist sure sett in thare seis,
The fraudful warld gaif to thame mortall fallis,
For thare rewarde, bot dyrk memoriallis:
Thocht ouir the warld thay had preheminence,
Off it thay gat none vther recompence.

For, siclyke as the snaw doith melt in May
Throuch the reflex of Phebus bemys brycht,

322

Thir gret Impyris rychtso ar went away.
Gone bene thare glore, thair power, & thair mycht,
Because thay wer reuaris withouttin rycht,
And blude scheddaris full creuell, to conclude:
Rycht creuellye, tharefor, wes sched thare blude.

Behald quhow God, aye sen the warld began,
Hes maid of tyrrane Kyngis Instrumentis
To scurge peple, and to keill mony one man,
Quhilkis to his law wer Inobedientis.
Quhen thay had done perfurneis his ententis,
In dantyng wrangus peple schamefullye,
He sufferit thame be scurgit creuellye.

Ewin as the scule Maister doith mak ane wand,
To dant and dyng Scollaris of rude ingyne,
The quhilkis wyll nocht study at his command:
He scurgis thame, and only to that fyne,
That thay suld to his trew counsall inclyne.
Quhen thay obey, and mesit bene his yre,
He takis the wand and castis in to the fyre.

Exo. vii.

God of kyng Pharo maid one Instrument,
Quhilk wes the gret kyng of Egyptience,
His awin peculier peple to torment.
That beand done, he wrocht on hym vengence,
And leit hym fall throuch Inobedience.
And fynallie, he, with his gret armye,

Exo. xiiii.

In the reid sey thame drownit dulefullye.

Rycht so, of Nabuchodonosor kyng,
God maid of hym ane furious Instrument,
Ierusalem and the Iowis to doun thryng,
Quhen thay to God wer Inobedient;
Syne reft hym frome his ryches and his rent,
And hym transformit in ane beist brutell,

Dan. iii.

Sewin ȝeris and more, as wryttis Daniell.

323

Alexander, throuch prydefull tyrrannye,
In ȝeris twelf did mak his gret conquest,
Aye scheddand saikles blude full creuellye.
Tyll he wes kyng of kyngis, he tuke no rest.
In all the warld quhen he wes full possest,
In Babilone thronit tryumphantlye,
Throuch poysoun strang deceisit dulefullye

Duke Hanniball, the strang Cartagiane,
The danter of the Romanis pompe and glorye,
Be his power wer mony one thousand slane,
As may be red at lenth in tyll his storye.
At Cannas, quhare he wan the victorye,
On Romanis handis that dede lay on the ground,
Thre hepit Buschellis wer of Ryngis found.

In to that mortall battell, I heir sane,
Off the Romanis moste worthy weriouris,
By presonaris, wer fourty thousand slane,
Off quhom thare wes thretty wyse Senatouris,
And xx. Lordis, the quhilkis had bene Pretouris,
That deit in to defence of thare cuntre,
And for tyll hald thare lande at lybertie.

Quhat rewarde gatt this creuell Campioun,
Quhen he had slane so gret one multytude,
And quhen the glasse of his glorye wes roun?
Ane schamefull deith, and, schortlye to conclude,
This bene reward of all scheddaris of blude.
For he gat sic extreme confusioun,
He slew hym self in drynking strang poysoun.

Behald the two moste famous Campionis,
(That is to say) Iulyus and Pompey,
Quhilkis did conquesse all erthly Regionis,
Alsweill maine land as Ylis in the sey,
And to the toun of Rome gart thame obey:

324

For Pompeyus subdewit the Orient,
And Iulyus Cesar, all the Occident.

Bot, fynaly, thir two did stryue for stait,
Quhare throw thre hundreth .M. men wer slane.
Bot Pompeyus, efter that gret debait,
He murdreist wes; the storye tellis plane.
Than Iulyus wes Prince and Souerane,
Abufe the hole warld Empriour and kyng;
Bot, in to rest, schorte tyme indurit his ryng.

For, within fyue moneth and lytill more,
Amyd his Lordis in the counsall hous,
He murdreist wes; quhat nedeth proces more?
As I haue said, be Brute and Cascius.
Geue thow wald knaw thare dethis dolorous,
Thow most at lenth go reid the Romane storye,
Quhilk hes this mater put in memorye.

Gone is the Goldin warld of Asserianis,
Off quhome kyng Nynus wes first & principall:
Gone is the syluer warld of Persianis:
The Copper warld of Grekis now is thrall:
The warld of Irne, quhilk wes the last of all,
Comparit to the Romanis in thare glore,
Ar gone, rychtso: I heir of thame no more.

Now is the warld of Irne myxit with clay,
As Daniell at lenth hes done indyte.
The gret Impyris ar meltit clene away;
Now is the warld of dolour and dispyte.
I se nocht ellis bot troubyll infinyte.
Quharefor, my Sonne, I mak it to the kend,
This warld, I wait, is drawand to ane end.

Tokynnis of darth, hunger, and pestilence,
With creuell weris, boith be sey and land,
Realme aganis realme with mortall violence,

325

Quhilk signifyis the last day ewin at hand.
Quharefor, my Sonne, be in thy faith constand.
Rasyng thy hart to God, and cry for grace,
And mend thy lyfe, quhil thow hes tyme & space.

FINIS.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE FYFT SPIRITUALL, AND PAPALL MONARCHIE.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, Is thare no Prince ringand,
Quhilk hes the warld, now, at command,
As had the Kyngis of Asserianis,
The Persis, Grekis, or the Romanis?
Quho hes, now, most Dominioun
Off euerilk land and Regioun?

EXPE[RIENCE].

Thare is no Prince, my Sonne (said he)
That hes the principall Monarche
Abufe the warld vniuersall,
With hole power Imperiall,
As Alexander, or Darius,
Or as had Cesar Iulyus:
For Orient and Occident
To thame wer all obedient.
Nochtwithstandyng, I fynd one kyng
Quhilk in tyll Europe doith ryng,
That is, the potent Pope of Rome,
Impyrand ouir all Christindome,
To quhome no Prince may be compare,
As Canon lawis can declare.
All Princis of the Occident
Ar tyll his grace obedient;

326

For he hes hole power compleit,
Boith of the body and the spreit,
Quhilk neuer had no prince affore,
Except the mychtie kyng of glore.
To Christe he is gret Lewtennand,
In holy Peteris Saitt syttand.
So he is of all kyngis Kyng,
Quhilkis in to Europe now doith Ryng.

And, as the Romane Empriouris,
Hauyng the warld vnder thare curis,
Had Princis, Knychtis, and Campionis,
Rewlaris in tyll all Regionis,
Uphaldyng thare Aucthoritie,
Usyng Iustice and polisie,

Rycht so, this potent pope of Rome,
The Souerane kyng of Christindome,
He hes, in tyll ilk countre,
His Princis of gret grauytie:
In sum countreis, his Cardinallis,
In thare moste precious apparallis;
Archibyschoppis, Byschoppis, thow may se,
Defendyng his auctoritie,
With vther potent Patriarkis;
Collegis full of cunnyng Clerkis;
Abbottis and Priouris, as ȝe ken,
Misrewlaris of relegious men;
Officiallis, with thare Procuratouris,
Quhose langsum law spolȝeis the puris;
Archidenis and Denis of dignitie;
Gret Doctouris of Diuynitie;
Thare Chantouris, and thare Sacristanis,
Thare Tresoureris, and thare subdenis;
Legionis of preistis Seculeris,
Personis, Uicaris, Monkis, and Freris,
Off diuers Ordouris mony one,
Quhilk langsum wer for tyll expone,
In syndrie habitis, as ȝe ken,
Diffrent frome vther Christin men;

327

Fair Ladyis of Relegioun,
Proffessit in euery Regioun;
Fals Heremitis, fassonit lyke the freris;
Proude parische clerkis, and pardoneris,
Thare Gryntaris, and thare Chamberlanis,
With thare temporall Courtissianis.
Thus, all the warld, be land and sey,
His Sanctitude thay do obey.
Nocht onely his spirituall kyngdome,
Bot the gret Empriour of Rome,
And Kyngis of euerilk regioun,
That day quhen thay resaue thare crown,
Thay mak aith of fidelytie
Tyll defende his auctorytie.
Moreouir, with humyll reuerence,
Thay mak tyll hym obedience,
Be thare selfis, or Ambassaldouris,
Or vtheris ornate Oratouris.
Quho doith ganestand his Maiestie,
His lawis, or his Lybertie,
Or haldis ony opinioun
Contrar his gret Dominioun,
Outher be way of deid or wourdis,
Ar put to deith, be fyre or swourdis.
Sanct Peter stylit wes Sanctus,
Bot he is callit Sanctissimus.
His style at lenth gyf thow wald knaw,
Thow moste go luke the Canon law,
Boith in the Sext and Clementene.
His staitly style thare may be sene:
Thare sall thow fynd, reid gyf thow can,
Quhow he is nother God nor man.

COUR[TIOUR].
Quhat is he, than, be ȝour Iugement?
Quod I. Me thynk hym different
Far, frome our Souerane, Lord Iesus,

328

And tyll his kynd contrarious.

Ihon. i.

For Christ wes God and naturall man;
Gyf he be nother, quhat is he, than?

EXPE[RIENCE].
The Canon law, my Sonne (said he)
That questioun wyll declare to the.
It doith transcend my rude Ingyne
His Sanctitude for tyll defyne,
Or to schaw the aucthoritie
Pertenyng to his Maiestie.
So gret one Prince quhare sall thow fynd,
That Spiritually may louse and bynd,
Nor be quhame synnis ar forgyffin,
Be thay with his Disciplis schrewin?
Quhame euer he byndis by his mycht,
Thay boundin ar in Goddis sycht.
Quhame euer he lowsis in erth heir doun,
Ar lousit be God in his Regioun.
Als, he is Prince of Purgatorie,
Delyuering Saulis frome paine to glorie.
Off that dirke Dungeoun, but doute,
Quham euir he plesis he takis thame oute.
Oure secreit synnis, euery ȝeir,
We mon schaw to sum preist or freir,
And tak thare absolutioun,
Or ellis we gett no remyssioun.
So, be this way, thay cleirly ken
The secretis of all seculare men.
Thare secretis we knaw nocht at all;
Thus ar we to thame bound and thrall.
Quhat euir thare Ministeris commandis
Most be obeyit, without demandis.
Quharefor, my Sonne, I say to the,
This is ane maruellous Monarche,
Quhilk hes power Imperiall
Boith of the body and the Saull.

329

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) declare to me
Quhow did begyn this Monarche.

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) Christ Iesus, God and Man,
That Impyre gratiouslye began,
Nocht be the fyre, nor be the swourde,

Ephi. i

Bot be the vertew of his wourde,
And left, in tyll his Testament,

Luc. ix.

Mony ane deuote document,
With his Successouris to be vsit,
Thocht mony of thame be now abusit.
For Peter and Paull, with all the rest
Off thare Brethrin, maid manifest
The law of God, with trew intent,
Precheing the Auld and New Testament.
Thay led thare lyfe in pouertie,
Deuotioun, and Humilytie,
As did thare Maister, Christ Iesus,
And war nocht half so glorious
As thare Successouris now in Rome,
Impyrand ouer all Christindome.

Efter the deth of Peter and Paull,
And Christis trew Disciplis all,
Thare Successouris, within few ȝeris,
As at more lenth thare storye beris,
Full craftelye clam to the heycht,
Frome Spirituall lyfe to temporall mycht.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, or we passe forther more,
Quhen did begyn thare temporall glore?

330

EXPE[RIENCE].

Sonne (said he) thow sall vnderstand.
Or euer ane Pape gat ony land,
Two and thretty gude papis in Rome
Ressauit the crown of Martyrdome,
Bot nocht the Thrinfald Diadame.
To weir thre crownis thay thocht gret schame,
Tyll Syluester the Confessoure
Frome Constantene the Emprioure
Ressauit the Realme of Italie,
Rychtso, of Rome the gret Cetie.
That wes the rute of thare ryches.
Than sprang the well of welthynes.
Quhen that the Pape wes maid ane kyng,
All Princis bowit at his biddyng.
This Act wes done, withouttin weir,
Frome Christis deith thre hundreth ȝeir.

Than Lady Sensualitie
Tuke Lugeing in that gret Cetie,
Quhare scho sensyne hes done remane,
As thare awin lady Souerane.
Than Kyngis, in tyll all Nationis,
Maid Preistis gret fundationis.
Thay thocht gret mereit and honour
To contrafait the Empriour,
As did Dauid, of Scotland kyng,
The quhilk did founde, duryng his ryng,
Fyftene Abbayis, with temporall landis,
Withouttin teindis and offerandis;
Be quhose holy simplicite
He left the Crown in pouerte.
Now haif I schawin the, as I can,
Quhow thare temporall Impyre began,
Ascendyng vp, aye gre by gre,
Abufe the Empriouris Maieste.
So, quhen thay gat amang thare handis
Off Italie all the Empriours landis,

331

Efter that, in ilke cuntrie
Sprang vp thare temporalite,
With so gret ryches and sic rent,
That thay gan to be negligent
In makyng Ministratioun
To Christis trew Congregatioun,
And tuke no more paine in thare precheing,
And far les trauell in thare techeing,
Changeing thare Spiritualitie
In temporall Sensualitie.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, thynk ȝe that thay ar sure
That thare Impyre sall lang indure?

EXPE[RIENCE].
Apperandlye it may be kende,
Quod he, thare glore sall haue ane ende.
I mene, thare temporall Monarchie
Sall turne in tyll humylitie.
Throuch Goddis wourde, without debait,
Thay sall turne to thare first estait;
As Daniellis Prophesie apperis,
Thareto sall nocht be mony ȝeris.
Quhowbeit, Christis faith sall neuer faill,
Bot more and more it sall preuaill,
Thocht Christis trew congregatioun
Suffer gret trybulatioun.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) be quhat reassoun
Thynk ȝe thare Impyre may cum doun?

332

EXPE[RIENCE].

Consydderyng thare preheminence,
Quod he, for Inobedience,

Math, xxviii. Ihon xv. Acti. i.

Abusyng the commandiment
Quhilk Christ left in his Testament,
Usyng thare awin traditioun
More than his Institutioun.

For Christ, in his last conuentioun,
The day of his Ascentioun,
Tyll his Disciplis gaif command,
That thay suld passe in euery land,
To teche and preche, with trew intent,
His law and his commandiment.
None vther office he to thame gaif.
He did nocht bid thame seik nor craif
Cors presentis, nor offerandis,
Nor gett Lordschipis of temporall landis.

Bot now it may be hard and sene,
Baith with thyne eiris and thyne eine,
Quhow Prelatis, now, in euery land,
Takis lytill cure of Christis command,
Nother in to thare deidis nor sawis,
Neglectyng thare awin Canon lawis,
Usyng thame selfis contrarious,
For the most part, to Christ Iesus.

Mat. iiii.

Christ thocht no schame to be ane Precheour,
And tyll all peple of trewth ane techeour.
Ane pope, byschope, nor Cardinall,
To teche nor preche wyll nocht be thrall.
Thay send furth Freris for to preche for thame,
Quhilk garris the peple now abhor thame.

Ihon vi.

Christ wald nocht be ane temporall kyng,
Rychely in to no realme to ryng,
Bot fled temporall auctorite,
As in the Scripture thow may se.
All men may knaw quhow popis ryngis,
In Dignitie abufe all kyngis,

333

Als weill in temporalitie
As in to Spiritualitie.
Thow may se, be experience,
The popis Princely preheminence,

In Cronicles geue thow lyst to luke
Quhow Carion wryttis, in his buke,
Ane Notabyll Narratioun.
The ȝeir of oure Saluatioun
Alewin hundreth and sax and fyftie,
Pope Alexander, presumptuouslie,
Quhilk wes the thrid pope of that name,
To F[r]edrike Empriour did diffame.
In Ueneis, that tryumphand town,
That nobyll Empriour gart ly down
Apone his wambe, with schame and lake,
Syne tred his feit apone his bake,
In toknyng of obedience.
Thare he schew his preheminence,
And causit his Clergy for to syng
Thir wourdis efter following:

SVPER Aspidem & basiliscum ambulabis,
Et conculcabis leonem & draconem.

Than said this humyll Empriour:
I do to Peter this honour.
The Pope answerit, with wordis wroith:
Thow sall me honour, and Peter, boith.

Christ, for to schaw his humyll spreit,
Did wasche his pure Disciplis feit.
The Popis holynes, I wys,
Wyll suffer Kyngis his feit to kys.
Birdis had thare nestis, and toddis thare den;

Luc. ix.

Bot Christ Iesus, Saiffer of men,
In erth had nocht ane penny breid
Quhare on he mycht repose his heid.

Quhowbeit, the Popis excellence
Hes Castellis of Magnifycence.

334

Abbottis, Byschoppis, and Cardinallis
Hes plesand palyces royallis.
Lyke Paradyse ar those prelattis places,
Wantyng no plesoure of fair faces.
Ihone, Androw, Iames, Peter, nor Paull
Had few housis amang thame all.

Actis. iiii.

Frome tyme thay knew the veritie
Thay did contempne all propertie,
And wer rycht hartfully content
Off meit, drynk, and Abilȝement.

Ihon xix.

To saif Mankynde, that wes forlorne,
Christ bure ane creuell crown of thorne;
The Pope, thre crownis, for the nonis,
Off gold, poulderit with pretious stonis.
Off gold and syluer, I am sure,
Christ Iesus tuke bot lytill cure,
And left nocht, quhen he ȝald the spreit,
To by hym self ane wynding scheit.

Bot his Successoure, gude Pope Iohne,
Quhen he deceisit in Auinione,
He left behynd hym one treassoure
Off gold and syluer, by mesoure,
Be one Iuste computatioun,
Weill fyue and twentye myllioun,
As dois Indyte Palmerius.
Reid hym, and thow sall fynd it thus.

Christis Disciplis wer weill knawin
Throuch vertew, quhilk wes be thame schawin,
In speciall feruent charitie,
Gret pacience, and humylite.
The popis floke in all regionis,
Ar knawin best be thare clyppit crounis.

Ihon. ii.

Christ he did honour Matromony
In to the Cane of Galaly,
Quhare he, be his power Diuyne,
Did turne the walter in to Wyne,
And, als, chesit sum Maryit men
To be his seruandis, as ȝe ken.

335

And Peter, duryng all his lyfe,
He thocht no Syn to haif ane wyfe.
Ȝe sall nocht fynd, in no passage,
Quhare Christ forbiddith mariage;
Bot leifsum tyll ilk man to marye,
Quhilk wantis the gyft of Chaistitye.

The Pope hes maid the contrar lawis
In his kyngdome, as all men knawis.
None of his preistis dar marye wyfis,
Under no les paine nor thare lyfis.
Thocht thay haif Concubynis fyftene;
In to that cace thay ar ouersene.
Quhat chaistytie thay keip in Rome
Is weill kend ouer all christindome.

Christ did schaw his obedience

Mat. xvii.

On to the Empriouris excellence,
And causit Peter for to pay
Trybute to Cesar for thame tway.
Paull biddis ws be obedient
To Kyngis, as the most excellent.

The contrar did Pope Celistene,
Quhen that his Sanctytude serene
Did crown Henry the Empriour.
I thynk he did hym small honour,
For with his feit he did hym crown,
Syne with his fute the crown dang doun,
Sayand: I haif Auctoritie
Men tyll exalt to dignitie,
And to mak Empriouris and kyngis,
And Syne depryue thame of thare Ryngis.
Peter, be my Opinioun
Did neuer vse sic Dominioun.
Apperandlye, be my Iugement,
That Pope red neuer the new Testament.
Gyf he had lernit at that lore,
He had refusit sic vaine glore,
As Barnabas, Peter, and Paull,
And, rycht so, Christis Disciplis all.

336

Actis. x.

The Capitane Cornelius,
Quhen Sanct Peter come tyll his hous,
Tyll worschyp hym, fell at his feit.
Bot Sanct Peter, with humyll spreit,
Did rais hym vpe with diligence,
And did refuse sic Reuerence.

Rychtso, Sanct Iohne the Euangelist
The Angellis feit he wald haif kist.

Apoca. xix. & xxii.

Bot he refusit sic honoure,
Sayand: I am bot Seruitoure,
Rychtso, thy fallow and thy brother.
Gyff glore to God, and to none vther.

Act. xiiii.

Alykewyis, Barnabas and Paull
Sic honour did refuse at all.
In Listra, quhare thay wroucht gret werkis,
The preist of Iupiter, with his clerkis,
And all the peple, with thare auyse,
Wald haif maid to thame Sacrifyse.
Off quhilk thay wer so discontent,
That thay thare clothyng raif and rent.
And Paull amang thame rudely ran,
Sayand: I am ane mortall man.
Gyf glore to God, of kyngis kyng,
That maid heuin, erth, and euery thyng.
Sen Peter and Paull vaine glore refusit,
With Popis quhy sulde sic glore be vsit?
Peter, Andro, Iohne, Iames, and Paull,
And Christis trew Disciplis, all,
Be Goddis worde thare faith defendit.
To byrne and skald thay neuer pretendit.
The pope defendis his traditioun
Be flammand fyre without remissioun.
Quhowbeit men breik the law Diuyne,
Thay ar nocht put to so gret pyne.
For huredome, nor Ydolatrye,
For Incest, nor Adultrye,
Or quhen ȝoung Uirginnis ar deflorit,
For sic thyng men ar nocht abhorit.

337

Bot quho that eitis flesche in to lent
Ar terriblye put to torment.
And gyf ane preist happinnis to marye,
Thay do hym baneis, cursse, and warye,
Thocht it be nocht aganis the law
Off God, as men may cleirlie knaw.
Betuix thir two quhat difference bene,
Be faithfull folke it may be sene.
Sic Antithesis mony mo
I mycht declare, quhilkis I lat go,
And may nocht tary to compyle
Off ilk ordour the staitlye style.
The seilye Nun wyll thynk gret schame,
Without scho callit be Madame.
The pure Preist thynkis he gettis no rycht,
Be he nocht stylit lyke ane Knycht,
And callit schir affore his name,
As schir Thomas and schir Wilȝame.
All Monkrye, ȝe may heir and se,
Ar callit Denis, for dignite.
Quhowbeit his mother mylk the kow,
He man be callit Dene Androw,
Dene Peter, dene Paull, and dene Robart.
With Christ thay tak ane painfull part,
With dowbyll clethyng frome the cald,
Eitand and drynkand quhen thay wald;
With curious Countryng in the queir;
God wait gyf thay by heuin full deir.
My lorde Abbot, rycht venerabyll,
Ay marschellit vpmoste at the tabyll;
My lord Byschope, moste reuerent,
Sett abufe Erlis in Parliament;
And Cardinalis, duryng thare ryngis,
Fallowis to Princis and to Kyngis;
The Pope exaltit, in honour,
Abufe the potent Empriour.
The proude Persone, I thynk trewlye,
He leidis his lyfe rycht lustelye;

338

For quhy he hes none vther pyne,
Bot tak his teind, and spend it syne.
Bot he is oblyste, be resoun,
To preche on tyll perrochioun:
Thoucht thay want precheing sewintene ȝeir,
He wyll nocht want ane boll of beir.
Sum Personis hes at thare command
The wantoun Wencheis of the land.
Als, thay haue gret prerogatyffis,
That may depart, ay, with thare wyffis,
Without Diuors or summondyng,
Syne tak ane vther but woddyng.
Sum man wald thynk ane lustye lyfe,
Ay quhen he lyst, to chenge his wyfe,
And tak ane vther of more bewte.
Bot Secularis wantis that lyberte,
The quhilk ar bound in mariage.
Bot thay, lyke Rammis in to thair rage,
Unpissillit rynnis amang the ȝowis,
So lang as Nature in thame growis.

And als, the Uicar, as I trow,
He wyll nocht faill to tak ane kow,
And vmaist claith (thoucht babis thame ban)
Frome ane pure selye housband man.
Quhen that he lyis for tyll de,
Haiffeing small bairnis two or thre,
And hes thre ky, withouttin mo,
The Uicare moist haue one of tho,
With the gray cloke that happis the bed,
Howbeit that he be purelye cled.
And gyf the wyfe de on the morne,
Thocht all the babis suld be forlorne,
The vther kow he cleikis awaye,
With hir pure coit of roploch graye.
And gyf, within tway dayis or thre,
The eldest chyild hapnis to de,
Off the thrid kow he wylbe sure.
Quhen he hes all, than, vnder his cure,

339

And Father and Mother boith ar dede,
Beg mon the babis, without remede.
Thay hauld the Corps at the kirk style,
And thare it moste remane ane quhyle,
Tyll thay gett sufficient souerte,
For thare kirk rycht and dewite.
Than cumis the Landis Lord, perfors,
And cleiks tyll hym ane herield hors.
Pure laubourars wald that law wer doun,
Quhilk neuer was fundit be resoun.
I hard thame say, onder confessioun,
That law is brother tyll Oppressioun.

My Sonne, I haue schawin, as I can,
Quhow this fyft Monarchie began,
Quhose gret Impyre for to report
At lenth the tyme bene all to schort.

FINIS

HEIR FOLLOWIS ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE COURT OF ROME.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) quhat rewll keip thay in rome,
Quhilk hes the Spirituall Dominatioun
And Monarchie abufe all Christindome?
Schaw me, I mak ȝow supplicatioun.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne, wald I mak trew narratioun
(Said he) to Peter & Paul thocht thay succeid,
I thynk thay preue nocht that, in to thare deid.

340

For Peter, Androw, & Iohne war fyschearis fyne
Off men and wemen, to the christin faith.
Bot thay haif spred thare Net, with huik and lyne,
On rentis ryche, on gold, and vther graith.
Sic fyscheing to neglect thay wylbe laith;
For quhy, thai haif fyscheit in ouerthort the strandis,
Ane gret part, trewlye, of all temporall landis:

With that, the tent part of all gude mouebyll,
For the vphaldyng of thare digniteis.
So bene thare fyscheing wounder profitabyll
On the dry land, als weill as on the seis.
Thare herywalter thay spred in all countreis,
And, with thare hois nett, daylie drawis to Rome
The most fyne gold that is in Christindome.

I dar weill say, within this fyftie ȝeir,
Rome hes ressett, furth of this Regioun,
For Bullis & Benefyce (quhilk thay by full deir)
Quhilk mycht, ful weil, haif payit a kingis ransoun.
Bot, war I worthye for to weir ane crown,
Preistis suld no more our substance so consume,
Sendyng, ȝeirlye, so gret ryches to Rome.

In to thare Tramalt nett thay fangit ane fysche,
More nor ane quhaill worthye of memorye,
Of quhome thay haue had mony dayntay dysche,
Be quhome thay ar exaltit to gret glorye.
That maruelous monstour callit Purgatorye,
Howbeit tyll ws it is nocht amyable,
It hes to thame bene veray profytable.

Latt thay that fructfull fysche eschaip thare nett,
Be quhome thay haif so gret commoditeis,
Ane more fatt fysche I traist thay sall nocht gett,
Thocht thay wald sers ouerthort the occiane seis.
Adew the daylie dolorous Derigeis.
Selye pure preistis may syng with hart full sorye,
Want thay that painefull palyce, Purgatorye.

341

Fairweill, Monkyre, with Chanoun, Nun, & Freir.
Allace, thay wylbe lychtleit in all landis.
Cowlis wyll no more be kend in kirk nor queir,
Lat thay that fructfull fysche eschaip thare handis.
I counsall thame to bynd hym fast in bandis,
For Peter, Androw, nor Iohne culde neuer gett
So profytable ane Fysche in to thare nett.

Thare Merchandyce, in tyll all Nationis,
As prentit lede, thare walx, and perchement,
Thare pardonis, and thare Dispensationis,
Thay do exceid sum temporall princis rent.
In sic trafyke thay ar nocht neglygent.
Off benefyce thay mak gude marchandyce,
Throuch Symonye, quhilk thay hald lytill vyce.

Christ did command Peter to feid his scheip,

Ioh. xxi.

And so he did feid thame full tenderlye.
Off that command thay take bot lytill keip,
Bot Christis scheip thay spolȝe petuouslye,
And with the woll thay cleith thame curiouslye.
Lyk gormand wolfis, thay tak of thame thare fude,
Thai eit thair flesche, & drynkis boith mylk & blude.

For that office thay serue bot lytill hyir.
I thynk sic Pastouris ar nocht for to pryse,
Quhilk can nocht gyde thare scheip about the myir,
Thay ar so besye in thare merchandyse.
Thocht Peter wes porter of Paradyse,

Mat. xvi.

That plesand passage craftelye thay close.
Throuch thame rycht few gettis entres, I suppose.

Christ Iesus said (as Mathew did report)

Mathow xxiii.

Wo be to Scribes and to Pharisience,
The quhilkis did close of Paradyse the port.
Off thame we haif the sam experience.
To enter thare thay mak small deligence,
Thay tak sic cure in temporall besynes,
Rychtso, frome ws thay stop the plane entres.

342

Those spiritual keis quhilkis Christ to Peter gaif,
Thare colour cleir with reik and rowst ar fadit.
Unoccupyit thay hald thame in thare neif.
Off that office thay serue to be degradit,
With Goddis worde without that thay remeid it,
Oppinyng the port quhilk lang tyme hes bene closit,
That we may enter, with thame, and be reiosit.

Iohn x.

Contrar tyll Christis Instytutioun,
To thame that deis in habit of ane Freir,
Rome hes thame grantit full remissioun,
To passe tyll heuin straucht way, withoutin weir,
Quhilk bene in Scotland vsit mony ane ȝeir.
Be thare sic vertew in ane Freris hude,
I thynk in vane Christ Iesu sched his blude.

Wald God the Pope, quhilk hes preheminence,
With aduyse of his counsall generall,
That thay wald do thare detfull deligence,
That Christis law mycht keipit be ouir all,
And trewlye precheit baith to gret and small,
And geue to thame Spirituall Auctorite,
Quhilk culde perfytlie schaw the Uerite.

Quho can not preche a preist sulde not be namit,
As may be preuit be the law Diuyne,
And, be the Canon law, thay ar defamit
That takis Preistheid bot onely to that fyne.
Tyll all vertew thare hartis thay suld inclyne,
In speciall, to preche with trew intentis,
And minister the neidfull Sacramentis.

As for thare Monkis, thair chanounis, and thare Freris,
And lustye Ladyis of Religioun,
I knaw nocht quhat to thare office efferis.
Bot men may se thare gret abusioun.
Thay ar nocht lyke, in to conclusioun,
Nother in to thare wourdis nor thare warkis,
To the Apostolis, Prophetis, nor Patriarkis.

343

Geue presentlye thare Prelatis can nocht preche,
Than latt ilke Byschope haif ane Suffragane,
Or successour, quhilk can the peple teche,
On thare expensis ȝeirlye to remane,
To cause the peple frome thare vyce refrane,
And, quhen ane prelate hapnith to deceace,
Than put ane perfyte precheour in his pleace.

Do thay nocht so, on thame sall ly the charge,
Geueand vnhable men auctorite.
As quho wald mak ane steirman tyll ane barge
Off ane blynd borne, quhilk can no dainger se.
Geue that schyp drown, forsuth, I say for me,
Quho gaif that steirman sic commissioun
Suld of the schip mak restitutioun.

The humane Lawis that ar contrarius
And nocht conformyng to the Law diuyne,
Thay suld expell, and hald thame odius,
Quhen thay persaue thame cum to no gude fyne,
Inuentit bot be sensuall mennis Ingyne,
As that law quhilk forbiddis mariage,
Causyng ȝoung Clerkis byrne in lustis rage.

Difficill is Chaistite tyll obserue,

Rom. vii.

But speciall grace, lauboure, and abstinence.
In tyll our flesche aye ryngith, tyll we sterue,
That first Originall syn, Concupiscence,
Quhilk we, throuch Adamis Inobedience,
Hes done Incur, and sall indure for euer,
Quhill that our saull and body deith disseuer.

Tharefor God maid of Mariage the band,
In Paradyse (as Scripture doith recorde)

Gene. ii.

In Galelie, rycht so, I vnderstand
Wes mariage honourit be Christ our Lorde.
Auld Law and New thare to thay do concorde.

Ihon ii.

I thynk for me, better that thay had sleipit,
Nor tyll haue maid ane law and neuer keip it.

344

Math. i.

Tuke nocht Christ Iesu his Humanitie
Off ane Uirgene in mariage contractit,
And of hir flesche cled his Diuynitie?

Luc. i.

Quhy haif thay done that blysfull band deiectit,
In thare Kyngdome? Wald God it wer correctit,
That ȝoung prelattis mycht mary lustye wyffis,
And nocht in sensuall luste to leid thare lyffis.

Did nocht Christ cheis of honest maryit men,
Alsweill as thay that kepit Chaistitie,
For to be his Disciplis, as ȝe ken?
As in the Scripture cleirlye thay may se,
Thay keipit, styll, thare wyffis, with honeste;
As Peter, and his spousit Bretherin, all,
Obseruit Chaistitie Matrymoniall.

i. Tim. iiii.

Bot now apperis the prophesie of Paull,
Quhow sum suld ryis, in to the latter aige,
That frome the trew faith sulde depart and fall,
And suld forbid the band of Mariaige.
Als thow sall fynd, in to that sam passaige,
Thay sulde command frome meitis tyll abstene,
Quhilk God creat, his pepyll to sustene.

Bot, sen the Pope, our Spirituall prince & kyng,
He dois ouerse sic vyces manifest,
And in his kyngdome sufferith for to ryng
The men be quhome the veritie bene supprest,
I excuse nocht hym self more than the rest.
Allace, how suld we membris be weill vsit,
Quhen so our spirituall heidis bene abusit.

The famous ancient, Doctor Auiceane,
Sayis: quhen euyl rewme descendis frome the heid
In to the membris, generith mekle peane,
Without thare be maid, haistalye, remeid.
Quhen that cald humour dounwart dois proceid,
In Senownis it causis Arthetica,
Rychtso, in to the handis, crampe Chiragra.

345

Off Malideis it generis mony mo,
Bot gyf men gett sum Souerane preserue,
As, in the theis, Siatica Passio,
And, in the breist, sumtyme, the strang Caterue,
Quhilk causis men rycht haistellye to sterue,
And podagra, difficill for to cure,
In mennis feit quhilk lang tyme dois indure.

So, to this moste tryumphant court of Rome
This simylitude full weill I may compare,
Quhilk hes bene heirschyp of all Christindome,
And to the warld ane euyll examplare,
That vmquhyle was Lod sterre & Lumynare,
And the moste sapient Sors of sanctytude,
Bot now, allace, bair of Beatytude.

Thare Kyngdome may be callit Babilone,

Apo. xviii.

Quhilk vmquhyle was ane brycht Hierusalem,
As planelye menis the Apostill Iohne.
Thare moste famous Citie hes tynt the fame;
Inhabitaris thareof, thare nobyll name.
For quhy, thay haif of Sanctis Habitacle
To Symon Magus maid ane Tabernacle,

And horribyll vaill of euerilk kynd of vyce,
Ane laithlye Loch of stynkand Lychorye,
Ane curssit Coue, corrupt with Couatyce,
Bordourit aboute with pryde and Symonye,
Sum sayis, ane systerne full of Sodomye,
Quhose vyce in speciall, gyf I wald declair,
It wer aneuch for tyll perturbe the air.

Off treuth, the hoill Christin Religioun
Throuch thame ar scandalizat and offendit.
It can nocht faill bot thare abusioun
Affore the Throne of God it is ascendit.
I dreid, but doute, without that thay amend it,

Luc. xiii. Apo. xviii.

The plaiges of Iohnis Reuelatioun
Sall fall vpone thare Generatioun.

346

O Lord, quhilk hes the hartis of euerilk kyng
In to thy hand, I mak the Supplicatioun,
Conuert that Court, that, of thair grace benyng,
Thay wald mak generall reformatioun
Amang thame selfis, in euerilk Natioun,
That thay may be ane holy exemplair
Tyll ws, thy pure lawid commoun populair,

Hungrit, allace, for falt of Spirituall fude,
Because frome ws bene hyd the veritie.
O Prince, quhilk sched for vs thy precious blude,
Kendle in ws the fyre of Charitie,
And saif ws frome Eterne Misaritie,
Now lauboryng in to thy Kirk Militant,
That we may, all, cum to thy kirk Tryumphant.

AMEN.

HEIR ENDIS THE THRIDE PART. AND BEGYNNIS THE FOURT, MAKAND MENTIOUN OF THE DEITH. AND OF THE ANTICHRIST. AND GENERALL IUGEMENT. AND OF CERTANE PLESOURIS OF GLORIFIET BODYIS. AND QUHOW EUERY CREATURE DESYRIS TO SE THE LAST DAY. WITH ANE EXHORTATIOUN, BE EXPERIENCE, TO THE COURTIOUR. .&C.

COUR[TIOUR].
Prvdent Father Experience,
Sen ȝe, of ȝour beneuolence,
Hes causit me for to consydder
Quhow warldlye Pompe and glore bene slydder,
By diuers Storyis Miserabyll,
Quhilkis to reheirs bene Lamentabyll,

347

Ȝitt, or we passe furth of this vaill,
I pray ȝow geue me ȝour counsaill,
Quhat I sall do, in tyme cumyng,
To wyn the glore Euirlestyng.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne (said he) sett thy intent
To keip the Lordis Commandiment,
And preis the nocht to clym ouer hie
To no warldly Auctoritie.
Quho in the warld doith moste reiose
Ar farrest, aye, frome thare purpose.
Wald thow leue warldlye vaniteis,
And thynk on foure extremeteis
Quhilkis ar to cum, and that schortlye,
Thow wald neuer syn wylfullye.
Prent thir four in thy memorye,
The Deith, the Hell, and heuinnis glorye,
And extreme Iugement Generall,
Quhare thow man rander compt of all,
Thow sall nocht faill to be content
Off quyet lyfe and sobir rent.
Considdryng no man can be sure
In erth one hour for tyll indure,
So all warldly prosperitie
Is myxit with gret miseritie.

Wer thow Empriour of Asia,
Kyng of Europe and Affrica,
Gret Dominator of the sey,
And thocht the Heuinnis did the obey,
All Fyschis sowmyng in the strand,
All Beist and Fowle at thy command,
Concludyng, thow wer kyng of all
Under the heuin Imperiall,
In that moste heych auctoritie
Thow suld fynd leist tranquilitie.
Exempyll of kyng Salamone,

ii. Par. ix.

348

More prosperous lyfe had neuir none.

Eccle. ii.

Sic ryches, with so gret plesoure,
Had neuer kyng nor Emprioure,
With moste profunde Intelligence,
And superexcelland Sapience.
His plesand Habitationis
Precellit all vtheris Nationis;
Gardyngis and Parkis for Hartis and Hyndis,
Stankis with fysche of diuers kyndis,
Moste profunde Maisteris of Musike,
That in the warld wes none thame like.
Sic treasour of Gold and pretious stonis
In erth had neuir no kyng att onis.

iii. Re. xi.

He had sewin hundreth lustye Quenis,
And thre hundreth fair Concubenis.
In erth thare wes no thyng plesand
Contrarious tyll his command.
Ȝitt all this gret prosperitie
He thoucht it vaine and vanitie,
And mycht neuir fynd repose compleit,
Without afflixioun of the spreit.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) it maruellis me,
He haueand sic prosperite,
With so gret ryches by mesoure,
Nor he had infynite plesoure.

EXPE[RIENCE].
My Sonne, the suth gyf thow wald knaw,
The veritie I sall the schaw.
Thare is no warldly thyng, at all,
May satysfie ane mannis Saull.
For it is so Insaciabyll,
That Heuin and Erth may nocht be abyll
One Saull allone to mak content,

349

Tyll it se God Omnipotent.
Wes neuer none, nor neuer salbe,
Saciate, that sycht tyll that he se.
Quharefor, my Sonne, sett nocht thy cure
In erth, quhare no thyng may be sure,

Math. vi. Luc. xii.

Except the deith allanerlye,
Quhilk followis man continuallye.
Tharefor, my Sonne, remember the,
Within schorte tyme that thow mon de,
Nocht knawing quhen, quhow, in quhat place,
Bot as plesit the Kyng of Grace.

FINIS.

OFF THE DEITH.

Of Misarie moste Miserable
Is Deith, and most abhominable,
That dreidful Dragone, with his dartis
Aye reddy for to peirs the hartis
Off euerilk Creature on lyue,
Contrar quhose strenth may no man stryue.

Off dolent Deith this sore sentence
Wes gyffin throw Inobedience
Off our Parentis: allace tharefore,
As I haue done declare affore,
Quhow thay and thare Posteritie
Wer, all, condampnit for to dee.
Quhowbeit the flesche to deith be thrall,
God hes the Saull maid Immortall,
And so, of his benignytie,
Hes myxit his Iustice with mercie.
Tharefor, call to rememb[e]rance
Off this fals warld the variance,
Quhow we, lyke Pylgramis, ewin and morrow,
Ay trauellyng throw this vaill of sorrow,

350

Sum tyme in vaine prosperitie,
Sum tyme in gret Misaritie,
Sum tyme in blys, sum tyme in baill,
Sum tyme rycht seik, and sum tyme haill,
Sum tyme full ryche, and sum tyme pure.
Quharefor, my Sonne, tak lytill cure
Nother of gret prosperitie
Nor ȝitt, of gret misaritie.
Bot plesand lyfe, and hard myschance,
Ponder thame boith in one ballance.
Considdryng none auctoritie,
Ryches, wysedome, nor dignitie,
Empyre of Realmes, bewtie, nor strenth,
May nocht one day our lyuis lenth.
Sen we ar sure that we moste de,
Fairweill all vaine felyscitie.

Gretlye it doith perturbe my mynde,
Off dolent Deith the diuers kynd.
Thoucht Deith tyll euery man resortis;
Ȝitt strykith he in syndrie sortis;
Sum, be hait Feueris violence;
Sum, be contagious Pestilence;
Sum, be Iustice executioun
Bene put to deith without Remissioun;
Sum, hangit; sum doith lose thare heidis;
Sum, brynt; sum, soddin in to leiddis;
And sum, for thare vnleifsum actis,
Ar rent and rewin apone the ractis;
Sum ar dissoluit by poysoun;
Sum on the nycht ar murdreist doun;
Sum fallis in to frynasie;
Sum deis in Idropesie,
And vtheris strange Infirmeteis,
Quharein mony ane thousand deis,
Quhilk humane Nature dois abhor,
As in the Gutt, grauell, and gor;
Sum, in the flux, and feuir quartane,
Bot, ay, the houre of deith vncertane.

351

Sum ar dissoluit suddantlye,
Be Cattarue, or be Poplesye;
Sum doith distroy thame self, also,
As Hanniball and wyse Cato,
Be thounder deith sum doith consume;
As he did the thrid kyng of Rome,
Callit Tullius Hostulius,
As wryttis gret Ualerius;
For he and his houshald attonis
Wer brynt be thounder, flesche, and bonis.
Sum deith be extreme excesse
Off Ioy, as Ualeri doith expresse;
Sum be extreme Malancolye
Wyll de, but vther Maladye.
In Cronicles thow may weill ken,
Quhow mony hundreth thousand men
Ar slane, sen first the warld began,
In battell; and quhow mony one man
Apone the see doith lose thare lyuis,
Quhen schyppis apone roches ryuis.
Thocht sum de Naturally, throuch aige,
Fer mo deis raiffand in one raige.
Happy is he the quhilk hes space
Att his last hour to cry for grace.
Quhowbeit deith be abhominabyll,
I thynk it suld be confortabyll
Tyll all thame of the faithfull nummer,
For thay depart frome cair and cummer,
Frome trubyll, trauell, sturt, and stryfe,
Tyll Ioy and euirlestand lyfe.

Polidorus Uirgilius
To that effect he wryttis thus:
In Trace, quhen ony chylde be borne,
Thare kyn and freindis cumis thame beforne,
With dolent Lamentatioun,
For the gret trybulatioun,
Calamitye, cummer, and cure,
That thay in erth ar to indure.

352

Bot, at thare deith and burying,
Thay mak gret Ioy and Bankettyng,
That thay haue past frome misarie
To rest and grett felycitie.

Sen deith bene fynall conclusioun,
Quhat valis warldly prouisioun,
Quham wysedome may nocht contramand,
Nor strenth that stoure may nocht ganestand.
Ten thousand Mylȝeone of treasoure
May nocht prolong thy lyfe one houre,
Efter quhose dolent departyng,
Thy spreit sall passe, but tarying,
Straucht way tyll Ioye Inestimabyll,
Or to strang pane Intollerabyll.
Thy vyle corruptit carioun
Sall turne in Putrefactioun,
And so remane, in pulder small,
On to the Iugement Generall.

FINIS.

ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOVN OF THE ANTECHRISTE.

COUR[TIOUR].
(Qvod I) Father, I heir men say
That thare sall ryse, affore that day
Quhilk ȝe call generall Iugement,
One wyckit man, form sathan sent,
And contrar to the law of Christ,
Callit the creuell Antechrist.
And sum sayis that myscheuous man
Discende sall of the Trybe of Dan,
And suld be borne in Babilone,
The quhilk dissaue sall mony one.

353

Infydelis sall, of euery art,
With that fals Propheit tak one part;
And quhow that Enoch and Elias
Sall preche contrar that fals Messias,
Bot, fynally, his fals Doctryne,
And he, sall be put to rewyne,
Bot nother be the fyre nor swourd,
Bot be the vertew of Christis wourd.
And, gyf this be of veryte,
The suith, I pray ȝow, schaw to me.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne (said he) as wryttis Iohne,
Thare sall nocht be one man allone,
Hauyng that name in speciall.
Bot Antechristis in generall
Hes bene, and now ar, mony one.
And, rycht so, in the tyme of Iohne

i. Iohn ii.

Wer Antechristis, as hym self sayis.
And presentlye, now in thir dayis,
Ar rycht mony, withouttin dout,
Wer thare fals lawis weill soucht out.

Quha wes one greter Antechrist,
And more contraryous to Christ,
Nor the fals Propheit Machomeit,
Quhilk his curste Lawis maid so sweit?
In Turkye ȝit thay ar obseruit,
Quhare throuch the hell he hes deseruit.
All Turkis, Saraȝenis, and Iowis,
That in the Sonne of God nocht trowis
Ar Antechristis, I the declare,

ii. Iohn i.

Because to Christ thay ar contrare.

Daniell sayis, in his propheseis,
That, efter the gret Monarcheis,

Dan. viii.

Sall ryse ane maruellous potent Kyng,
Quhilk with ane schameles face sall ryng,
Mychtie and wyse in dirk speikyngis,

354

And prospir in all plesand thyngis.
Throuch his falsheid and craftynes,
He sall flow in to welthynes.
The Godlye pepyll he sall noye
By creuell deith, and thame distroye.
The kyng of Kyngis he sall ganestand,
Syne be distroyit withouttin hand.

ii. Tessa. ii.

Paull sayis, affore the Lordis cumyng,
That thare salbe one departyng,
And that man of Iniquitye
Tyll all men he sall opened be,
Quhilk sall sitt in the holy sait,
Contrary God to mak debait.
Bot that Sonne of Perditioun
Salbe put to confusioun
Be power of the haly Spreit,
Quhen he his tyme hes done compleit.

Beleue nocht that, in tyme cumyng,
One gretar Antechriste to ryng
Nor thare hes bene, and presentlye
Ar now, as Clerkis can espye.
Tharefor, my wyll is, that thow knaw,
Quhat euer thay be that makis one law,
Thocht thay be callit Christin men,
By naturall reassoun thow may ken,
Be thay neuer of so gret valour,
Pape, Cardinall, Kyng, or Empriour,
Extolland thare Traditionis
Abufe Christis Institutionis,
Makand Lawis contrar to Christe,
He is ane verray Antechriste.
And quho doith fortifye or defend
Sic Law, I mak it to the kend,
Be it Pape, Empriour, Kyng, or Quene,
Gret sorrow sall be on thame Sene,
Att Christis extreme Iugement,
Without that thay in tyme repent.

FINIS.

355

HEIR FOLLOUIS A SCHORT REMEMBRANCE OF THE MOSTE TERRABYLL DAY OF THE EXTREME IUGEMENT.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) with ȝour Lycence,
Sen ȝe haith sic Experience,
Ȝitt one thyng at ȝow wald I speir.
Quhen sall that dreidfull day appeir
Quhilk ȝe call Iugement Generall?
Quhat thyngis affore that day sall fall?
Quhare sall appeir that Dreidfull Iuge?
Or quhow may Faltouris gett refuge?

EXPE[RIENCE].

(Quod he) as to thy first questioun,
I can mak no solutioun:
Quharefor, perturbe nocht thyne intent
To knaw day, hour, nor moment.
To God allone the day bene knawin,
Quhilk neuer was to none Angell schawin.
Howbeit, be diuers coniectouris,
And principall Expositouris
Off Daniell and his Prophicie,
And be the sentence of Elie,
Quhilkis hes declarit, as thay can,
How lang it is sen the warld began,
And for to schaw hes done thare cure,
How lang thay traist it sall indure,
And, als, how mony ages bene,
As in thare warkis may be sene.

356

Bot, tyll declare thir questionis,
Thare bene diuers opinionis.
Sum wryttaris hes the warld deuidit
In sex ageis (as bene desidit
Into Fasciculus Temporum
And Cronica Cronicarum).
Bot, be the sentence of Elie,
The warld deuydit is in thre;
As cunnyng Maister Carioun
Hes maid plane expositioun,
How Elie sayis, withouttin weir,
The warld sall stand sax thousand ȝeir,
Off quhome I follow the sentence,
And lattis the vther Bukis go hence.
Frome the Creatioun of Adam
Two thousand ȝeir tyll Abraham.
Frome Abraham, be this narratioun,
To Christis Incarnatioun,
Rychtso, hes bene two thousand ȝeris.
And, be thir Prophiceis, apperis
Frome Christ, as thay mak tyll ws kend,
Two thousand tyll the warldlis end,
Off quhilkis ar by gone, sickirlye,
Fyue thousand, fyue hundreth, thre, & fyftye.
And so remanis to cum, but weir,
Four hundreth, with sewin and fourtye ȝeir.
And than the Lorde Omnipotent
Suld cum tyll his gret Iugement.

Mathow xxiiii.

Christ sayis the tyme salbe maid schort;
As Mathew planelye doith report,
That, for the warldlis Iniquite,
The letter tyme sall schortnit be,
For plesour of the chosin nummer,
That thay may passe frome care and cummer.
So, be this compt, it may be kend,
The warld is drawand neir ane end.
For legionis ar cum, but doute,
Off Antechristis, wer thay soucht out.

357

And mony toknis dois appeir,
As efter, schortlye, thow sall heir;
Quhow that Sanct Iherome doith indyte,
That he hes red, in Hebrew wryte,
Off fyftene signis in speciall,
Affore that Iugement Generall.
Off sum of thame I tak no cure,
Quhilk I fynd nocht in the scripture.
One part of thame thocht I declare,
First wyll I to the Scripture fare.

Christe sayis, affore that day be done,

Mar. xiii.

Thare salbe signis in Sonne and Mone.

Mathew xxiiii.

The Sonne sall hyde his beymes brycht,
So that the Mone sall gyf no lycht.
Sterris, be mennis Iugement,
Sall fall furth of the Firmament.

Off this signis, or we forther gone,
Sum morall sence we wyll expone,
As cunnyng Clerkis hes declarit,
And hes the Sonne and Mone comparit,
The Sonne, to the stait spirituall,
The Mone, to Princis temporall,
Rychtso, the sterris thay do compare
To the lawd common populare.
The Mone and sterris hes no lycht,
Bot the reflex of Phebus brycht.
So, quhen the Sonne of lycht is dyrk,
The Mone and sterris man be myrk.
Rychtso, quhen Pastouris spirituallis,
Popis, Byschopis, and Cardinallis,
In thare beginnyng schew gret lycht,
The Temporall stait wes rewlit rycht.

Bot, now, allace, it is nocht so
Those schynand Lampis bene ago,
Thare Radious beymes ar turnit in reik.
For now in erth no thyng thay seik,
Except ryches and Dignitie,
Followyng thare sensualitie.

358

Mony prelatis ar now ryngand,
The quhilkis no more dois vnderstand
Quhat doith pertene to thare offyce,
Nor thow can kendyll fyre with yce.
Wo to Papis, I say for me,
Quhilk sufferis sic Enormite,
That Ignorant warldly creaturis
Suld in the kirk haif ony curis.
No maruell thocht the peple slyde,
Quhen thay haue blynd men to thare gyde.
For ane Prelat that can nocht preche,
Nor Goddis law to the peple teche,

Esay lvi.

Esaye comparith hym, in his wark,
Tyll ane dum Dog that can nocht bark.

Iohn x.

And Christ hym callis, in his greif,
Moste lyke ane murdrer, or ane theif.
The cunnyng Doctour Augustyne
Wolfis and Deuyllis doith thame defyne.
The Canon Law doith hym defame
That of ane Prelat beris the name,
And wyll nocht preche the Diuyne Lawis,
As the Decreis planelye schawis.
Bot those that hes Auctorite
To prouyde spirituall Dignyte
Mycht, geue thay plesit to tak pane,
Gar thame lycht all thare Lampis agane.
Bot euer, allace, that is nocht done;
So dirknit bene boith Sonne and Mone.

War Kyngis lyuis weill declarit,
The quhilkis ar to the Mone comparit,
Men mycht consydder thare estate
Frome Charitie degenerate.
I thynk thay sulde thynk mekle schame
Off Christ for to tak thare Surname,
Syne leif nocht lyke to Christianis,
Bot more lyke Turkis and to Paganis.
Turke contrar Turke makis lytill weir,
Bot Christiane Princis takis no feir,
Quhilkis suld aggre as brother to brother,

359

Bot now ilk ane dyngis doun ane vther.
I knaw no ressonabyll cause quharefore,
Except Pryde, Couatyce, and vaine glore,
The Empriour mouis his Ordinance
Contrar the potent Kyng of France,
And France, rychtso, with gret regour,
Contrar his freinde the Empriour,
And, rycht swa, France agane Ingland;
Ingland, alsso, aganis Scotland.
And, als, the Scottis, with all thare mycht,
Doith feycht, for tyll defend thare rycht.
Betuix thir Realmes of Albione,
Quhare Battellis hes bene mony one,
Can be maid none Affinitie,
Nor ȝit no Consanguinitie.
Nor, be no waye, thay can consydder
That thay may haue lang Peace to gydder.
I dreid that weir makis none endyng,
Tyll thay be, boith, onder ane kyng.
Thocht Christ, the Souerane kyng of grace,
Left, in his Testment, lufe and peace,
Our Kyngis frome weir wyll nocht refrane,
Tyll thare be mony ane thousand slane,
Gret heirschipis maid be see and land,
As all the warld may vnderstand.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father, I thynk that temporall kyngis
May fecht, for tyll defend thare ryngis.
For I haif sene the spirituall stait
Mak weir, thare rychtis tyll debait.
I saw Pape Iulius manfullye
Passe to the feild tryumphantlye,
With ane rycht aufull ordinance,
Contrar Lues, the kyng of France,
And, for to do hym more dispyte,
He did his Regioun interdyte.

360

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sonne (said he) as I suppose,
That langith weill tyll our purpose.
How Sonne and Mone ar boith, denude
Off lycht, as Clerkis dois conclude,
Comparying thame, as ȝe hard tell,
To Spirituall stait and Temporell,
And commoun peple, half disparit,
Quhilk to the sterris bene comparit.
Lawd peple followis, ay, thare heidis,
And, speciallye, in to thare deidis.
The moste part of Religioun
Bene turnit in abusioun.
Quhat dois auaill religious wedis,
Quhen thay ar contrar in thare dedis?
Quhat holynes is thare within
Ane wolf cled in ane Wodderis skin?
So, be thir toknis, dois appeir,
The day of Iugement drawis neir.
Now latt ws leif this morall sens,
Proceidyng tyll our purpose hens,
And of this mater speik no more,
Begynning quhare we left affore.

Mathew xxiiii. Mar. xiii. Luc. xxi.

The Scripture sayis, efter thir signis
Salbe sene mony maruellous thyngis.
Than sall ryse trybulationis
In erth, and gret mutationis,
Als weill heir vnder as aboue,
Quhen vertewis of the heuin sall moue.
Sic creuell weir salbe, or than,
Wes neuer sene sen the warld began,
The quhilk sall cause gret Indigence,
As darth, hunger, and pestilence.
The horribyll soundis of the sey
The peple sall perturbe and fley.
Ierome sayis, it sall ryse on heycht
Abone montanis, to mennis sycht.

361

Bot it sall nocht spred ouir the land,
Bot, lyke ane wall, ewin straycht vpstand,
Syne sattell doun agane so law
That no man sall the walter knaw.
Gret Quhalis sall rummeis, rowte, and rair,
Quhose sound redound sall in the air.
All fysche and Monstouris maruellous
Sall cry, with soundis odious,
That men sall wydder on the erd,
And wepyng, wary sall thare weird,
With lowde allace and welaway,
That euer thay baid to se that day,
And, speciallye, those that dwelland be
Apone the costis of the see.
Rycht so, as Sanct Ierome concludis,
Sall be sene ferleis in the fludis.
The sey, with mouyng maruellous,
Sall byrn with flammis furious.
Rychtso sall byrn fontane and flude.
All herb and tre sall sweit lyk blude;
Fowlis sall fall furth of the air;
Wylde beistis to the plane repair,
And, in thare maner, mak gret mone,
Gowland with mony gryslye grone.

Ezechiel xxxvii.

The bodeis of dede creaturis
Appeir sall on thare Sepulturis.
Than sall boith men, wemen, and bairnis
Cum crepand furth of howe Cauernis,
Quhare thay, for dreid, wer hyd affore,
With seych, and sob, and hartis sore,
Wandryng about as thay war wode,
Affamysit for falt of fude.
Non may mak vtheris confortyng,
Bot dule for dule, and Lamentyng.
Quhat may thay do bot weip and wounder,
Quhen thay se roches schaik in schounder,
Throw trimlyng of the erth and quakyng?
Off sorrow, than, salbe no slakyng

362

Quho that bene leuand, in those dayis,
May tell of terrabyll affrayis.
Thare ryches, rentis, nor tressour,
That tyme, sall do thame small plesour.
Bot, quhen sic wonderis dois appeir,
Men may be sure the day drawis neir,

Dan. xiii.

That Iuste men pas sall to the glore,
Iniuste, to pane for euer more.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (said I) we daylie reid
One Artekle, in to our creid,
Sayand that Christe Omnipotent,
In to that generall Iugement,
Sall Iuge boith dede and quik also.
Quharefore, declare me, or ȝe go,
Geue thare sall ony man, or wyue,
That day be funding vpon lyue.

EXPE[RIENCE].
(Quod he) as to that questione,
I sall mak, sone, solutione.

Mat. xxiiii.

The Scripture planelye doith expone,
Quhen all tokynnis bene cum and gone,
Ȝitt mony one hundreth thousand
That samyn day salbe leuand,
Quhowbeit, thare sall no Creature
Nother of day nor hour be sure.
For Christ sall cum so suddantlye,
That no man sall the tyme espye,
As it wes in the tyme of Noye,
Quhen God did all the warld distroye.
Sum on the feild salbe lauborand;
Sum, in the templis Mariand;
Sum, afore Iugis makand pley;
And sum men, saland on the sey.

363

Those that bene on the feild going
Sall nocht returne to thare luging.
Quho bene apone his hous aboue
Sall haif no laser to remoue.
Two salbe in the Myll grindyng,
Quhilkis salbe taking, but warnyng,
The one tyll euerlestyng glore,
The vther loste for euer more.
Two salbe lying in one bed,
The one to plesour salbe led,
The vther salbe left allone,
Gretand with mony gryslie grone.
And so, my Sonne, thow may weill trow,
The warld salbe as it is now,
The peple vsyng thare besynes,
As holy Scripture doith expres.
Sen no man knawis the hour, nor day,
The Scripture biddis ws walk and pray,
And for our Syn be penitent,
As Christ wald cum Incontinent.

FINIS.

THE MANER QUHOW CHRIST SALL CUM TO HIS IUGEMENT.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Qvhen al takinnis bene brocht till end,
Than sall the sone of god discend.
As fyreflaucht haistely glansyng,

Hebre. xii.

Discend sall the most heuinly kyng.
As Phebus in the Orient,
Lychtnis, in haist, the Occident,
So plesandlye he sall appeir
Amang the heuinlye cluddis cleir,

Luc. xxi.

364

With gret power and Maiestie,
Aboue the cuntrie of Iudee,
As Clerkis doith concludyng, haill,
Direct aboue the lustye vaill

Actis. i.

Off Iosaphat and Mont Olyueit.
All Prophesie thare salbe compleit.

Mat. xxv.

The Angellis of the Ordoris Nyne
Inueron sall that throne Diuyne,
With heuinlye consolatioun,
Makand hym Ministratioun.
In his presens thare salbe borne
The signis of Cros, and Croun of thorne,
Pillar, Nalis, Scurgis, and Speir,
With euerilk thyng that did hym deir,
The tyme of his grym Passioun.
And, for our consolatioun,
Appeir sall, in his handis and feit,
And in his syde, the prent compleit
Off his fyue Woundis Precious,
Schynand lyke Rubeis Radious,
Tyll Reprobatt confusioun,
And, for fynall conclusioun,
He Sittand in his Trybunall
With gret power Imperiall.

i. Corin. x.

Thare sall ane Angell blawe a blast

Mathew xxiiii.

Quhilk sall mak all the warld agast,
With hydous voce, and vehement,
Ryse, dede folk, cum to Iugement.
With that, all Reasonabyll Creature
That euer wes formit be Nature
Sall suddantlye start vp attonis,
Coniunit with Saull, Flesche, Blude, & Bonis.
That terribyll Trumpat, I heir tell,
Beis hard in Heuin, in erth, and hell.

Apoc. xx.

Those that wer drownit in the sey
That boustious blast thay sall obey.
Quhare euer the body buryet wase,
All salbe fundyng in that plase.

365

Angellis sall passe in the four airtis

Mar. xiii.

Off erth, and bryng thame frome all partis,
And, with one instant diligence,
Present thame to his excellence.

Sanct Ierome thoucht continuallye
On this Iugement, so ardentlye,
He said: quhidder I eit, or drynk,
Or walk, or sleip, forsuth me thynk
That terrabyll Trumpat, lyke ane bell,
So quiklye in my eir doith knell,
As Instantlye it wer present,
Ryse, dede folk, cum to Iugement.
Geue Sanct Ierome tuke sic ane fray,
Allace, quhat sall we Synnaris say?

All those quhilk funding bene on lyue
Salbe Immortall maid belyue.
And, in the twynkling of one Ee,

i. Pe. iiii.

With fyre thay sall translatit be,

i. Cori. xv.

And neuer for to dee agane,
As Diuine scripture schawis plane,
Als reddy, boith for pane and glore,
As thay quhilk deit lang tyme affore,

The scripture sayis thay sall appeir
In aige of thre and thretty ȝeir,
Quhidder thay deit ȝoung or auld,
Quhose gret nummer may nocht be tauld.
That day sall nocht be myst one man
Quhilk borne wes sen the warld began.

Mathew xxvi.

The Angellis sall thame separate,
As Hird the Scheip doith frome the Gate.
And those quhilk bene of Baliallis band
Trymling apone the erth sall stand,
On the left hand of that gret Iuge,
But espirance to gett refuge.

Bot those quhilk bene Predestinate

i. Tess. iiii.

Sall frome the erth be Eleuate.
And that moste happy cumpanye
Sall ordourit be tryumphantlye,

366

Att the rycht hand of Christe, our kyng,
Heych in the air, with loude louyng.

Full Gloriouslye thare sall compeir,
More brycht than Phebus in his speir;
The Uirgene Marie, Quene of Quenis,
With mony ane thousand brycht Uirgenis.
The Fatheris of the auld Testament,
Quhilk wer to God obedient,
Father Adam sall thame conuoye,
With Abell, Seith, Enoch, and Noye,
Abraham, with his faithfull warkis,
With all the prudent Patriarkis.
Iohne the Baptiste thare sall compeir,
The Principall and last Messyngeir,
Quhilk come bot half ane ȝeir affore
The cumyng of that kyng of glore.
Moyses, Esayas honorabyll,
With all trew Prophetis Uenerabyll;
Dauid, with all the faithfull kyngis
Quhilk verteouslye did rewle thare ryngis;
The nobyll Cheiftane Iosue,
With gentyll Iudas Machabe,
With mony one nobyll Campioun,
Quhilk, in thare tyme, with gret renoun,
Manfullye, tyll thare lyuis ende,
The Law of God thay did defende.

With Eue that day salbe present
The Ladyis of the Auld Testament:
Delbora, Adamis Douchter deir,
With the four lusty Ladyis cleir
Quhilk kepit wer in the Ark with Noye;
Sara, and Cithara, with Ioye,
The quhilkis to Abraham wyffis bene,
With gude Rebecka thare salbe sene;
The prudent wyffis of Israell,
Gude Lya, and the fair Rachell,
With Iudeth, Hestar, and Susanna,
And the rycht sapient Quene Saba.

367

Thare sall compeir Peter and Paull,
With Christis trew Disciplis, all;
Lawrence and Stewin, with thare blyst band
Off Martyris, mo than ten thousand;
Gregor, Ambrose, and Augustyne,
With Confessoris, ane tryumphand tryne;
With sanct Francois, and Dominic,
Sanct Bernard, and sanct Benedic,
With small nummer of Monkis, and Freris,
Off Carmeletis, and Cordeleris,
That for the lufe of Christ onlye,
Renuncit the warld vnfenatlye.

With Elezabeth and Anna
All gude wyffis sall compeir that da;
The blyst and holy Magdelane,
That day, affore hir Souerane,
Rycht plesandlye scho sall present
All Synnaris that wer penitent,
Quhilk of thare gylt heir askit grace:
In Heuin with hir sall haue ane place.

Bot wo beis to that bailfull band
Quhilk sall stand Lawe at his left hand.
Woo, than, to Kyngis and Empriouris
Quhilkis wer vnrychteus Conquerouris,
For thare glore and perticular gude,
Gart sched so mekle saikles blude.
But Ceptour, Crown, and Robe Royall,
That day thay sall mak compt of all,
And, for thare creuell tyrrannye,
Sall punyste be perpetuallye.

Ȝe Lordis and Barronis, more and les,
That ȝour pure Tennantis dois oppres,
Be gret Gyrsome and dowbyll maill,
More than ȝour landis bene auaill,
With sore exhorbitant cariage,
With merchetis of thare mariage,
Tormentit boith in peace and weir,
With birdyngis more than thay may beir.

368

Be thay haif payit to ȝow thare maill,
And to the Preist thare teindis haill,
And quhen the land agane is sawin,
Quhat restis behynd I wald wer knawin.
I traist thay and thare pure houshauld
May tell of hunger and of cauld.
Without ȝe haif of thame piete,
I dreid ȝe sall gett no Mercie,
That day quhen Christ Omnipotent
Cumis tyll his generall Iugement.

Wo beis to publict Oppressouris,
To tyrrannis, and to transgressouris,
To Murdararis, and commoun theifis,
Quhilk neuer did mend thare gret mischeifis.
Fornicatoris, and Ockararis,
Commoun publict Adulteraris,
All pertinat wylfull Arratykis,
All fals dissaitfull Sysmatykis,
All salbe present in that place,
With mony Lamentabyll allace.

The cursit Cayn, that neuer wes gude,
With all scheddaris of saikles blude;
Nemrod, fundar of Babilone,
With fals Ydolatris mony one;
Nynus, the kyng of Asseriay,
With gret dule sall compeir that day,
Quhilk first Inuentit Ymagery,
Quharethrouch come gret Ydolatry.
For makyng of the Image Bell,
That day his hyir salbe in hell.

The gret Oppressour, kyng Pharo,
The tyranne Empriour Nero,
Sall with thame cursit kyng Herode bryng,
With mony vther cairfull Kyng.
The creuell kyng Antiochus,
With the moste furious Olofernus,
Gret Oppressour of Israell,
That day thare hyre salbe in hell.

369

With Iudas sall compeir one clan
Off fals Tratouris to God and man.
Thare sall compeir, of euerilk land,
With Ponce Pylat, one bailfull band
Off temporall and of spirituall statis,
Fals Iugis, with thare Aduocatis.
Thare sall our Senȝeouris of the cessioun
Off all thare faltis mak cleir confessioun.
Thare salbe sene the fraudfull failȝeis
Off Schireffis, Prouestis, and of Bailȝeis.
Officiallis, with thare Constry Clerkis,
Sall mak compt of thare wrangus werkis,
Thay, and thare peruerst Procuratouris,
Oppressouris boith of ryche and puris,
Throw Delaturis full of dissait,
Quhilk mony one gart beg thare mait
Gret dule, that day, to Iugis bene,
That cumis nocht with thare conscience clene.
That day sall pas be Peremptoris,
Without cawteill or Dilatoris;
No Duplycandum, nor Tryplicandum,
Bot schortlye pas to Sentenciandum,
Without Contineuationis,
Or ony Appellationis.
That sentence sall nocht be retratit,
Nor with no man of Law debatit.

Ȝe Lauboraris be sey and landis,
Perfyte Craftismen, and ryche Merchandis,
Leif ȝour dissait and crafty wylis,
Quhilk syllie simpyll folk begylis.
Mak recompence heir, as ȝe may,
Remembryng on this dreidfull day.

With Machomeit sall compeir, but doute,
Off Antechristis one hydduous route.
Byschope Annas, and Cayphas,
With hym in cumpany sall pas,
With Scrybis and fals Pharisianis,
Quhilk wrocht on Christ gret violensis.

370

With mony one Turk and Sariscene
With gret sorrow thare salbe sene
Papis, for thare traditionis
Contrar Christis Institutionis,
With mony one cowle and clyppit crown,
Quhilk Christis Lawis strampit down,
And wald nocht suffer for to preche
The veritie, nor the peple teche,
Bot Lawit men pat to gret torment,
Quhilk vsit Christis Testament.
All Kyngis and Quenis thare salbe kend,
The quhilk sic Lawis did defend.
In that court sall cum mony one
Off the blak byik of Babilone.
The Innocent blude, that day, sall crye
One loude vengeance, full petuouslye,
On those creuell bludy bowchouris,
Martyreris of Prophetis and Prechouris,
Sum with the fyre, sum with the sworde,
Quhilk planely precheit Goddis worde.
That day thay sall rewardit be,
Conforme to thare Iniquitie.

The Sodometis and Gomoriance
On quhome God wrocht so gret vengeance,
With Choro, Dathan, and Abyrone,
With thare assistance, mony one,
The holy Scripture wyll the tell,
Quhow thay sank all doun to the hell.
With Symon Magus sall resort
Off proude Preistis ane schamefull sort.

That samyn day thare salbe sene
Mony one creuell cairfull Quene:
Quene Semeram, kyng Nynus wyfe,
Ane Tygir full of sturt and stryfe,
To gydder with Quene Ieȝabell,
Quhilk wes boith couetous and creuell;
The fals desaitfull Dalyda;
The creuell Quene Clitamistra,

371

The quhilk did murdres, on the nycht,
Agamenon, boith wyse and wycht,
The quhilk wes hir awin souerane Lorde,
As Grekis storyis dois recorde;
With creuell Quenis mony one,
Quhilk langsum wer for tyll expone.

Ȝe wantoun Ladyis, and burgis wyuis,
That now for sydest talis stryuis,
Flappand the fylth amang ȝour feit,
Rasyng the duste in to the streit,
That day, for all ȝour pomp and pryde,
Ȝour talis sall nocht ȝour hyppis hyde.
Thir vaniteis ȝe sall repent,
Without that ȝe be penitent.

With Phitonissa, I heir tell,
Quhilk rasit the Spreit of Samuell,
That day, with hir, thare sall resorte
Off rank Wycheis one sorrowfull sorte,
Brocht frome all partis, mony one myle,
Frome Sauoy, Athell, and Argyle,
And frome the ryndes of Galloway,
With mony wofull Wallaway.

Ȝe Brether of Religioun,
In tyme leif ȝour abusioun,
With quhilk ȝe haif the warld abusit,
Or ȝe, that day, salbe refusit.
I speik to ȝow all, generallye,
Nocht tyll one Ordoure speciallye.
That day all Creature sall ken
Geue ȝe war Sanctis, or warldly men,
Or gyf ȝe tuk the Skapellarye
That ȝe mycht leif more plesandlye,
And gett ane gude grosse Portioun,
Or for Godlye Deuotioun.
That day, ȝour faynit Sanctytudis
Sall nocht be knawin be ȝour Hudis.
Ȝour Superstitious Ceremoneis,
Participand tyll Ydolatreis,

372

Corde, cuttit schone, nor clippit hede,
That daye sall stande ȝow in no stede.
For cowlis blak, gray, nor begaird,
Ȝe sall that day get no rewaird.
Ȝour polit payntit flatterye,
Ȝour dissimulat Ypocrasye,
That day thay sall be cleirlye knawin,
Quhen ȝe sall scheir as ȝe haue sawin.
Tharefore, in tyme be penitent,
Or ellis that day ȝe wylbe schent.

I pray ȝow hartlie, as I may,
Remember on that dreidfull day.
Ȝe Abbot, Pryor, and Pryores,
Consydder quhat ȝe did profes,
And quhow that ȝour promotioun
Wes no thyng for deuotioun.
Bot tyll obtene the Abbasye,
Ȝe maid ȝour wow of Chaistitye,
Off powertie, and obedience.
Tharefor, remord ȝour conscience,
Quhow thir thre wowis bene obseruit,
And quhat rewarde ȝe haue deseruit.
Quharefore repent, quhill ȝe haue space,
Sen God is lyberall of his grace.

COUR[TIOUR].
Father (quod I) declare to me
Quhare sall our Prelatis ordorit be,
Quhilk now bene in the warld leuand.
With quhome sall cum that Spirituall band?

EXPE[RIENCE].
(Quod he) as sanct Barnard discryuis,
Without that thay amend thare lyuis,
And leif thare wantoun vitious warkis,
Nocht with Prophetis nor Patriarkis,

373

Nocht with Martyris nor Confessouris,
The quhilkis to Christ wer trew prechouris.
Thare Predecessouris, Peter and Paull,
That day wyll thame mysken at all.
So sall thay nocht, I say for me,
With the Apostlis ordourit be.
I traist thay sall dwell on the bordour
Off Hell, quhare thare salbe non ordour,
Endlang the Flude of Flagitone,
Or on the brais of Acherone,
Cryand on Caron, I conclude,
To ferre thame ouer that furious flude,
Tyll eternall confusioun,
Without thay leif thare abusioun.
I traist those Prelatis, more and les,
Sall mak cleir compt of thare ryches,
That dreidfull day, with hartis sore,
And quhat seruice thay did tharefore.
The Princely pomp nor apparell
Off Pope, Byschope, nor Cardinall,
Thare Royall Rentis, nor Dignite,
That day sall nocht regardit be.
Thare sall no talis, as I heir say,
Off Byschoppis be borne vp, that day.
Cum thay nocht with thare conscience clene,
On thame gret sorrow salbe sene,
Without that thay thare lyfe amend
In tyme. And so I mak ane end.

FINIS.

374

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE MANER QUHOV CHRIST SALL GEUE HIS SENTENCE.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Qvhen all thir Congregationis
Beis brocht furth frome al nationis,
Quhilk wilbe without lang proces,
Thocht I haif maid sum lang degres,
For in the twinkling of one E,
All mankynd sall presentit be
Affore that Kyngis Excellence,

Mat. xx.

Than schortlye sall he geue sentence,
First sayand to that blysfull band
Quhilk beis ordourit at his rycht hand,
Cum, with my Fatheris Bennysoun,
And ressaue ȝour possessioun,
Quhilk bene for ȝow preordinat,
Affore the warld wes first creat.
Quhen I wes hungry, ȝe me fed;
Quhen I wes naikit, ȝe me cled;
Oftymes ȝe gaue me Herberye,
And gaif me drynk quhen I wes Drye,
And vesyit me with myndis meik,
Quhen I wes presonar and seik.
In all sic trybulatioun,
Ȝe gaif me consolatioun.

Than sall thay say, O Potent Kyng,
Quhen saw we the desyre sic thyng?
We neuer saw thyne excellence
Subdewit to sic Indigence.
Ȝit (sall he say) I ȝow assure,
Quhen euer ȝe did ressaue the pure,
And for my saik maid thame supple,
That gyft, but doute, ȝe gaif to me.

375

Tharefor sall now begyn ȝour glore,
Quhilk sall indure for euer more.

Than sall he luke on his left hand,
And say onto that bailfull band,
Pas, with my Maledictioun,
Tyll Eternall Afflixtioun,
In cumpany with feindis fell,
In euerlestyng fyre of Hell.
Quhen I stude, naikit, att ȝour ȝett,
Houngry, thristy, cauld, and wett,
Rycht febyll, seik, and lyke to de,
I neuer gat of ȝow supple.
And, quhen I lay in presoun strang,
For ȝow I mycht haif lying full lang,
Without ȝour co[n]solatioun,
Or ony supportatioun.

Trymling for dreid, than sall thay say,
With mony hydous harmesay,
Allace, gude Lorde, quhen saw we the
Subiect to sic necessitie?
Quhen saw we the cum to our dure,
Houngry, thristy, naikit, pure?
Quhen saw we the in presoun ly,
Or the refusit herbery?

Than sall that most precelland Kyng
Tyll those wrachis mak answeryng,
That tyme quhen ȝe refusit the puris
Quhilkis neidfull cryit at ȝour duris,
And of ȝour superfluitie
For my saik maid thame no supplie.
Refusand thame, ȝe me refusit,
With wrecheitnes so ȝe wer abusit.
Tharefor ȝe sall haue, to ȝour hyre,
The euerlestyng byrning fyre,
But grace, but peace, or confortyng.
Than sall thay cry, full sore weipyng,
That we wer maid; allace, gude Lorde,
Allace, is thare non Misericorde?

376

Bot thus, withouttin hope of grace,
Tyne presens of thy plesand face?
Allace for ws; it had bene gude,
We had bene smorit in our cude.

Than, with one rair, the erth sall ryue,
And swolly thame, boith man and wyue.
Than sall those Creaturis forlorne
Warie the hour that thay wer borne,
With mony ȝamer, ȝewt, and ȝell,
Frome tyme thay feill the flammis fell
Apone thare tender bodeis byte,
Quhose torment salbe Infinyte.
The erth sall close, and frome thare sycht
Sall taking be all kynde of lycht.
Thare salbe gowlyng and gretyng,
But hope of ony confortyng.
In that Inestimabyll pane
Eternallye thay sall remane,
Byrnand in furious flammys rede,
Euer deand, bot neuir be dede,
That the small Minuth of one hour
To thame salbe so gret dolour,
Thay sall thynk thay haif done remane,
Ane thousand ȝeir in to that pane.
Allace, I trimyll tyll heir tell
The terribyll Turmentyng of hell.
That panefull pytt quho can deplore,
Quhilk mon indure for euer more?

Than sall those glorifyit Creaturis,
With myrth and infinyte plesouris,
Conuoyit with Ioy Angelicall,
Passe to the Heuin Imperiall,
With Christ Iesu, our Souerane Kyng,
In glore Eternallye to ryng,
Off man quhilk passis the Ingyne
The thousand part for tyll defyne,
Allanerlie, of the leist plesoure
Preordinat for one Creature.

377

Than sall one Fyre, as Clerkis sane,

ii. Pet. iii.

Mak all the hyllis and valais plane.
Frome erth, vp to the Heuin Impyre,
All beis renewit by that fyre,
Purgeyng all thyng materiall
Under the heuin Imperiall.
Boith erth and walter, fyre and air,
Salbe more perfyte maid, and fair,
The quhilkis affore had myxit bene,
Sall than, be purifyit, and maid clene.
The erth lyke Christall salbe cleir,
And euerilk Planeit in his speir
Sall rest, withouttin more moueyng.
Boith sterny heuin and Christellyng,
The first and hiest heuin mouabyll,
Sall stand, but turnyng, firme and stabyll.
The Sonne in to the Orient
Sall stand, and in the Occident
Rest sall the Mone, and be more cleir
Nor now bene Phebus in his speir.
And als that Lantern of the Heuin
Sall gyf more lycht, be greis sewin,
Nor it gaue sen the warld began.
The Heuin renewit salbe than.
Rychtso, the erth, with sic deuyse,
Compair tyll heuinlye Paradyse.

So heuin and erth salbe allone,

Apo. xxi.

As menith the Apostill Iohne.
The gret sey sall no more appeir,
Bot lyke the Christall pure and cleir,
Passyng Imaginatioun

i. Cor. ii.

Off Man to mak narratioun.
Off glore, quhilk God haith done prepair
Tyll euery one that cumis thare,
The quhilk with eris, nor with eine,
Off man may nocht be hard nor sene;
With hart it is vnthynkabyll,
And with toungis Inpronunciabyll;

378

Quhose plesouris salbe so perfyte,
Haueyng in God so gret delyte,

ii. Pet. iii.

The space now of one thousand ȝeir
That tyme sall nocht one hour appeir;
Quhilk can nocht comprehendit be,
Tyll we that plesand sycht sall se.

ii. Cor. xii.

Quhen Paull wes reuyst, in the spreit,
Tyll the thrid Heuin, of glore repleit,
He sayith, the Secretis quhilk he saw
Thay wer nocht leifsum for to schaw
To no man on the erth leueand.
Quharefor preis nocht tyll vnderstand,
Quhowbeit thare to thow haif desyre,
The Secretis of the heuin Impyre.
The more men lukis on Phebus brycht,
The more febyll salbe thare sycht.
Rychtso latt no man sett thare cure
To Sers the heych Diuyne Nature.
The more men studye, I suppose,
Salbe the more frome thare purpose.
To knaw quhareto sulde men Intend,
Quhilk Angellis can nocht comprehend?
Bot, efter this gret Iugement,
All thyng tyll ws salbe patent.

Latt ws with Paull our mynde addres,
He beand full of Heuinlynes,
Full humilye he techeit ws,
Nocht for to be to curious,
Quhowbeit men be of gret Ingyne,
To seik the heych Secretis Diuyne,

Rom. xi.

Quhose Iugementis ar vncersiabyll,
And strange wayis Inuestigabyll,
(That is to say) past out fynding,
Off quhome no man may fynd endyng.
It sufficith ws for tyll Implore
Gret God to bryng ws to that glore.

FINIS.

379

OFF CERTANE PLESOURIS OF THE GLORIFEIT BODEIS.

EXPE[RIENCE].

Sen thare is non in erth may comprehend
The Heuinlye glore & plesouris Infinyte,
Quhairfor, my Sone, I pray the not pretend
Ouer far to seik that maner of delyte,
Quhilk passit Naturall reasoun to Indyte,
That God, affore that he the warld creatt,
Preparit to thame quhilk ar predestinat.

All Mortall men salbe maid Immortall,
(That is to say) neuer to de agane,
Impassabyll, and so Celestiall
That fyre nor swerd may do to thame no pane.
Nor hete, nor cald, nor frost, nor wynd, nor rane,
Thocht sic thyng wer, may do to thame no deir.
Those Creaturis, rycht so, salbe als cleir

As flammand Phebus in his Mantioun.
Considder, than, gyf thare salbe gret lycht,
Quhen euery one in to that Regioun
Sall schyne lyke to the Sonne, and be als brycht.
Lat ws, with Paull, desyre to se that sycht.
To be dissoluit Paull had A gret desyre,
With Christ to be in tyll the heuin Impyre.

And, more attour, as Clerkis can discryue,
Thare maruellous myrthis beis incomparabyll.
Amang the rest, in all thare wyttis fyue
Thay sall haue sensuall plesouris delectabyll.
The heuinlye sound, quhilk salbe Innarrabyll,
In thare eris continuallye sall ryng.
And als the sycht of Christ Iesus, our Kyng,

380

In his tryumphant throne Imperiall,
With his Mother, the Uirgene Quene of quenis,
Thare salbe sene: the Court Celestiall,
Apostolis, Martyris, Confessoris, and Uirgenis,
Brychtar than Phebus in his speir that schynis,
The Patriarkis, and Prophetis Uenerabyll,
Thare salbe sene, with glore Inestimabyll.

And with thare Spirituall Eis salbe sene
That sycht quhilk bene most Superexcelland,
God, as he is, and euermore hes bene.
Continuallye that sycht contempland,
Augustyne sayis, he had leuer tak on hand
To be in Hell, he seyng the assence
Off God, nor be in Heuin but his presence.

Quho seis God in his Diuynitie,
He seis in hym all vther plesand thyngis,
The quhilk with toung can nocht pronuncit be.
Quhat plesour bene to se that kyng of Kyngis.
The gretest pane the dampnit folk dounthryngis,
And, to the Deuyllis, the most punytioun,
It is of god to want fruitioun.

And, mairattour, thay sall feill sic ane smell
Surmountyng far the fleure of erthly flowris,
And, in thare mouth, ane taist, as I heir tell,
Off sweit and Supernaturall Sapowris.
Als, thay sall se the heuinlye brycht colowris
Schenyng amang those Creaturis Diuyne,
Quhilk tyll discryue transcendith mannis Ingyne.

And, als, thay sall haif sic agilitie
In one Instant to passe, for thare plesour,
Ten thousand mylis in twynkling of one E.
So thare Ioyis salbe without missour.
Thay sall Reioyis to se the gret dolour
Off dampnit folk in hell, and thare torment,
Because of God it is the Iuste Iugement.

381

Subtellyte thay sall haue maruellouslye.
Subponyng that thare wer ane wall of bras,
One glorifeit body may rycht haistellye
Out throw that wall, without Impediment, pas,
Siclyke as doith the Sone baime throw the glas,
As Christ tyll his Disciplis did appeir,
All entres clos, and non of thame did steir.

Quhowbeit, in heuin, thocht euerilk Creature

i. Cor. xv.

Haue nocht alyke filicitie nor glore,
Ȝitt euerilk one sall haif so gret plesure,
And so content, thay sall desyre no more.
To haue more Ioye thay sall no way Implore,
Bot thay salbe all satyfeit and content,
Lyke to this rude exempyll subsequent.

Tak ane crowat, one pynte stope, and one quart,
One galloun pitschair, one puntioun, & one twn,
Of wyne, or balme; gyf euerilk one thare part,
And fyll thame full, tyll that thay be ouir rwn.
The lytill crouat, in comparisoun,
Salbe so full that it may hald no more
Off sic missouris, thocht thare be twenty score.

In to the Twn, or in the Pontioun.
So all those vesschellis, in one qualitie,
May hald no more, without thay be ouir rwn,
Ȝitt haif thay nocht alyke in quantitie.
So, be this rude exempyll, thow may se,
Thocht euerilk one be nocht alyke in glore,
Ar satyfeit so that thay desyre no more.

Thocht presentlye, be Goddis prouiance,
Beistis, fowlis, and fyschis in the seis,
Ar necessar now for mannis sustenance,
With cornis, herbis, flowris, and fructfull treis,
Than sall thare be non sic commoditeis.
The erth sall beir no plant, nor beist brutall,
Bot, as the Heuinnis, brycht lyke buriall.

382

Suppone sum be on erth, walkand heir doun,
Or heycht abone, quhare euer thay pleis to go,
Off God thay haue ay cleir fruitioun,
Boith est, or west, vp, doun, or to, or fro.
Clerkis declaris plesouris mony mo,
Quhilk dois transcend al mortal mannis Ingyne
The thousand part of those plesouris deffyne.

In to the Heuin thay sall perfytlie knaw
Thare tender freindis, thare father, & thare mother,
Thare Predecessouris quhilkis thay neuer saw,
Thair spousis, bairnis, syster, & thare brother.
And euerilk one sall haue sic lufe tyll vther,
Off vtheris glore and Ioy thay sall reioyse,
As of thare awin, as Clerkis doith suppose.

Apoc. xxi.

Than salbe sene that brycht Ierusalem
Quhilk Ihone saw, in his Reuelatione.
We mortall men, allace, ar far to blame,

Esa. lxvi.

That wyll nocht haif consideratione,
And one continuall contemplatione,
With hote desyre to cum on to that glore,
Quhilk plesour sall indure for euer more.

Ro. viii.

O Lorde, our God and Kyng Omnipotent,
Quhilk knew, or thow the heuin and erth creatt,
Quho wald to the be inobedient,
And so disarue for to be Reprobatt,
Thow knew the nomer of predestinat,
Quhome thow did call, and hes thame Iustifeit,
And sall in Heuin with the be Glorifeit.

Grant ws to be, Lorde, of that chosin sort
Quhame, of thy mercy superexcellent,
Did puriffy, as scripture doith report,
With the blude of that holy Innocent,
Iesu, quhilk maid hym self Obedient
On to the deth, and steruit on the Rude.
Lat ws, O Lorde, be purgit with that blude.

383

All Creature that euer God Creat,

Ro. viii.

As wryttis Paull, thay wys to se that day,
Quhen the Childryng of God, predestinat,
Sall do appeir in thare new fresche array,
Quhen Corruptioun beis clengit clene away,

i. Cor. xv.

And cheangit beis thare Mortall Qualitie
In the gret glore of Immortalitie.

And, moreattour, all dede thyngis corporall,
Onder the Concaue of the Heuin Impyre,
That now to laubour subiect ar, and thrall,
Sone, Mone, & Sterris, Erth, walter, air, & Fyre,
In one maneir thay haue ane hote desyre,
Wissing that day, that thay may be at rest,
As Erasmus Exponith Manifest.

We se the gret Gloube of the Firmament
Continuallie in moueyng maruellous.
The Sewin Planetis, contrary thare intent,
Ar reft about, with coursse contrarious.
The wynd, and See, with stormys furious,
The trublit Air, with Frostis, Snaw, and Rane,
On to that day thay trauell euer in pane.

And all the Angellis of the Ordouris Nyne,
Haueand compatioun of our Misareis,
Thay wys efter that day, and to that Fyne,
To se ws fred frome our Infirmiteis,
And clengit frome thir gret Calamiteis
And trublus lyfe, quhilk neuer sall haue end
On to that day: I mak it to the kend.

FINIS.

384

ANE EXHORTATIOUN GYFFIN BE FATHER EXPERIENCE VNTO HIS SONE THE CURTEOUR.

EXPE[RIENCE].

My Sone, now mark weil in thy memory,
Of this fals warld the trublus transitory,
Quhose dreidfull dayis drawis neir a[ne] end.
Tharfor, cal god to be thi adiutory,
And euery day my Sonne Memento Mori,
And watt not quhen, nor quhare that thow sal wend.
Heir to remane I pray the nocht pretend,
And, sen thow knawis the tyme is verray schort,
In Christis Blude sett all thy hole confort.

Math. vi.

Be nocht to myche solyst in temporall thyngis,
Sen thow persauis Pape, Empriour, nor Kyngis
In to the erth haith no place parmanent.
Thow seis the deith thame dulefully doun thringis,
And rauis thame frome thare rent, ryches, & ringis.
Tharefor on Christ confirme thyne hole intent,
And of thy callyng be rycht weill content.
Than God, that fedis the fowlis of the air,
All neidfull thyng for the he sall prepair.

Iob. xiiii.

Consydder, in thy contemplatioun,
Ay, sen the warldlis first Creatioun,
Mankynd hes tholit this misary mortall,
Ay tormentit with trybulatioun,
With dolour, dreid, and desolatioun.
Gentiles, and Chosin peple of Israell,

385

To this vnhap, all subiect ar, and thrall;
Quhilk Misary, but doute, sall euer indure,
Tyll the last day: my Sonne, thareof be sure.

That day, as I haue maid narratioun,
Salbe the day of consolatioun
Tyll all the Childryng of the chosin noumer.
Thare endit beis thare desolatioun.
And als, I mak the supplycatioun,
In erthlye materis tak the no more cummer.
Dreid nocht to dee, for deith is bot ane slummer.
Leue ane Iuste lyfe, & with ane Ioyus hart,
And of thy guddis tak plesandlye thy part.

Off our talkeing now latt ws mak ane end.
Behald quhow Phebus dounwart dois discend
Towart his palyce in the Occident.
Dame Synthea, I se, scho dois pretend
In tyll hir wattry Regioun tyll ascend,
With vissage paill, vp frome the Orient.
The dew now dounkis the rossis redolent.
The Mareguldis, that all day wer reiosit
Off Phebus heit, now craftelly ar closit.

The blysfull byrdis bownis to the treis,
And ceissis of thare heuinlye armoneis.
The Cornecraik in the croft, I heir hir cry.
The bak, the Howlat, febyll of thare eis,
For thare pastyme, now in the ewinnyng fleis.
The Nychtyngaill, with myrthfull melody,
Hir naturall notis persith throw the sky,
Tyll Synthea, makand her obseruance,
Quhilk on the nycht dois tak hir dalyance.

I se Polartike in the North appeir,
And Uenus ryssing, with hir bemes cleir,
Quharefor, my Sonne, I hald it tyme to go.
Wald God (said I) ȝe did remane all ȝeir,

386

That I mycht of ȝour heuinlye Lessonis leir:
Off ȝour departyng I am wounder wo.
Tak pacience (said he) it mone be so:
Perchance I sall returne with deligence.
Thus I departit frome Experience,

And sped me home, with hert sychyng full sore,
And enterit in my quyet Oritore.
I tuke paper, and thare began to wryt
This Miserie, as ȝe haue hard afore.
All gentyll Redaris hertlye I Implore
For tyll excuse my rurall rude Indyte.
Thoucht Phareseis wyll haue at me dispyte,
Quhilkis wald not that thare craftynes wer kend,
Latt God be Iuge: and so I mak ane end.

FINIS.

Quod Lyndesay, .1552.

387

DOUBTFUL POEM AND LINES

390

ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF PEDER COFFEIS HAVING NA REGAIRD TILL HONESTIE IN THAIR VOCATIOUN.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

It is my purpoiss to discryve

[_]

Bann. MS. Fol. 162a

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

Speikand curlyk ilk ane till vder,
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]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Habitare fratres in unum
Is 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.

397

VNTO THE GODLIE AND CHRISTIANE REIDAR, HENRIE CHARTERIS WISCHIS GRACE, AND PEICE FROM IESUS CHRIST OUR SALUIOUR, WITH THE PERPETUALL ASSISTENCE OF HIS HALIE SPIRITE.

403

ANE ADHORTATIOUN OF ALL ESTATIS, TO THE REIDING OF THIR PRESENT WARKIS.

Sen that it is maist worthie for to be
Lamentit, of euerilk warldlie wicht
To se the warkis of plesant Poetrie
To ly sa hid, and sylit from the sicht
Of those in hart quha dois reiois aricht,
In Uulgar toung for to behald and heir
Uertew and vyce disclosit, and brocht to licht,
In thair richt collouris planelie to appeir.

404

Thairfoir (gude Reidar) haif I trauell tane,
Intill ane volume now breiflie for to bring
Of Dauid Lyndesay, the haill warkis ilk ane,
Knicht of the Mont, Lyoun, of A[r]mis King,
Quha in our dayis now did laitlie Ring,
Quhais pregnant practick, and quhais ornate style,
To be commendit be me, neidis na thing:
Lat warkis beir witnes, quhilkis he hes done compyle.

Thocht Gawine Dowglas, Bischop of Dunkell,
In ornate meter surmount did euerilk man;
Thocht Kennedie, and Dunbar bure the bell
For the large race of Rethorik thay ran:
ȝit neuer Poeit of our Scottische clan,
Sa cleirlie schew that Monstour with his markis,
The Romane God, in quhome all gyle began:
As dois gude Dauid Lyndesay in his warkis.

Quhairin na stait he spairit, bot stoutlie schew thame,
How thay baith God and man had sore offendit:
With fleschehukis of flatterie he neuer clew thame;
Of quhat degre sa euer thay discendit,
Thair auld misdeid he prayit thame ay to mend it,
Empriour, nor King, Duke, Erle, Prince, nor Paip,
Gif thay to quell Christis flock ȝit still pretendit:
Goddis Iust Iugementis na way suld thay eschaip.

With prettie problemis, and sentences maist sage,
With plesand prouerbis in his warkis all quhair,
With staitlie storyis aggreing to our age,
With similitudis semelie he dois declair,
With weil waillit wordis, wyse, and familiar,
Of queynt conuoy, this ioyous gem Iocound,
Intill his bukis to speik he did nocht spair
Aganis all vyce, ay quhair it did abound

Princes approche: cum Rewlaris in ane Randoun:
Reid heir ȝe Lordis of the meyner menȝe,
The end of hicht; ȝour pryde lerne to abandoun.
Cum, schameles schauelingis of Sathanis senȝe,
Rynnand in vyce, ay still with oppin renȝe;
Of proud Prelatis reid heir the suddane fall,
Quha for to stoup ȝit did neuer denȝe,
Under the ȝock of him that creat all.

Cum teynefull tyrannis, trimmilling with ȝour trayne!
Cum nouchtie Newtrallis with ȝour bailfull band!
Ȝe haif ane cloik now reddy for the rayne:
For fair wether, ane vther ay at hand.
Idolateris draw neir to Burgh and land,
Reid heir ȝour lyfe at large, baith mair and min,
With Hypocrites ay slyding as the sand,
As humloik how of wit, and vertew thin

Oppressouris of the pure, cum in till pairis:
Flattera[r]is flok fordwart! for I [haif] hard tell,
Ȝe had ane saw richt sicker for all sairis.
Lawieris, and Scrybis, quha hes ȝour saulis to sell:

405

Craftismen, and Merchandis, gif [yat] ȝe do mell
With fraud or falset, than I ȝow desyre,
Reid in this buke, the speiche gif ȝe can spell,
Quhat Iust reward ȝe sall haif for ȝour hyre.

Amang the rest, now Courteouris cum hidder.
Thocht ȝe be skeich, and skip abone the skyis,
Ȝit constantlie I pray ȝow to considder,
In to this scrow, quhat Lyndesay to ȝow cryis.
Cum all degreis, in Lurdanerie quha lyis,
And fane wald se of sin the feirfull fyne:
And lerne in vertew how for to vpryis.
Reid heir this buke, and ȝe sall find it syne.

With Scripture and with storyis naturall,
Richelie replenischit from end to end,
In till this buke, quha list to reid, thay sall
Find mony lessoun largelie to commend;
The braid difference quhairin weill may be kend
Betwene verteous and vicious leuing.
Lat vs thairfoir our lyfe in vertew spend,
Sen vyce of mankynd is the haill mischeuing.

Lat Lyndesay now as he war ȝit on lyif,
Pas furth to lycht, with all his sentence hie:
Unto all men thair dewtie to descryue
Quhairin thay may ane lyuelie Image se,
Of his expressit mynd in Poetrie,
Prentit, as he it publischit with his pen:
That him self speik, I think it best for me;
Gif gloir to God, quhilk gaif sic Giftis to men.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

Lost Poems Before 1528.

[I haue, at lenth, the storeis done discryue]

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE DREME, OF SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY, OF THE MONT, FAMILIAR SERUITOUR, TO OUR SOUERANE LORD KYNG IAMES THE FYFT. .&C.

THE EPISTIL.

THE PROLONG.

HEIR ENDIS THE PROLONG. AND FOLLOWIS THE DREME.

THE QVANTITE OF THE ERTH.

THE DEUISIOUN OF THE EIRTH.

OF PARADICE.

OF THE REALME OF SCOTLAND.

THE COMPLAYNT OF THE COMOUN WEILL OF SCOTLAND.

HEIR ENDIS THE DREME AND BEGYNNIS THE EXHORTATIOUN TO THE KYNGIS GRACE.

HEIR BEGINNIS THE COMPLAYNT OF SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY.

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE TESTAMENT, AND COMPLAYNT OF OUR SOUERANE LORDIS PAPYNGO, KYNG IAMES THE FYFT. QUHILK LYITH SORE WOUNDIT, AND MAY NOT DEE, TYLL EUERY MAN HAUE HARD QUHAT HE SAYIS. QUHAREFOR, GENTYLL REDARIS, HAIST ȜOW, THAT HE WER OUT OF PAINE.

HEIR ENDIS THE PROLOUG. AND FOLLOWIS THE COMPLAYNT.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE FIRST EPYSTYLL OF THE PAPYNGO DIRECT[IT] TO KYNG IAMES THE FYFT.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE SECUNDE EPISTYL OF THE PAPYNGO, DIRECTIT TO HIR BRETHER OF COURTE.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE COMMONYNG BETUIX THE PAPINGO, AND HIR HOLYE EXECUTOURIS.

THE COMPLAINT AND PUBLICT CONFESSIOUN OF THE KINGIS AULD HOUND, CALLIT BAGSCHE, DIRECTIT TO BAWTE, THE KINGIS BEST BELOUIT DOG, AND HIS COMPANȜEONIS. MAID AT COMMAND OF KING IAMES THE FYFT, BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT KNYCHT, alias, LYOUN KING OF ARMES. &C.

THE ANSWER QUHILK SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY MAID TO THE KINGIS FLYTING.

THE DEPLORATIOUN OF THE DEITH OF QUENE MAGDALENE.

THE IUSTING BETUIX IAMES WATSOUN, AND IHONE BARBOUR, SERUITOURIS TO KING IAMES THE FYFT, COMPYLIT BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT, KNICHT. &C.

ANE SUPLICATION DIRECTIT FROME SCHIR DAUID LYNDESAY, KNICHT, TO THE KINGIS GRACE, IN CONTEMPTIOUN OF SYDE TAILLIS.

KITTEIS CONFESSIOUN, COMPYLIT (AS IS BELEUIT) BE SCHIR DAUID LINDESAY OF THE MONT, KNICHT. &C.

HEIR FOLLOUIS THE TRAGEDIE, OF THE UMQUHYLE MAIST REUEREND FATHER DAUID BE THE MERCY OF GOD, CARDINALL, AND ARCHIBYSCHOPE OF SANCTANDROUS. &C.

THE PROLOG.

THE TRAGEDIE.

TO THE PRELATIS.

TO THE PRENCIS.

THE HISTORIE OF ANE NOBIL AND WAILȜEAND SQUYER, WILLIAM MELDRUM, VMQUHYLE LAIRD OF CLEISCHE AND BYNNIS.

THE TESTAMENT OF THE NOBILL AND VAILȜEAND SQUYER WILLIAME MELDRUM OF THE BYNNIS. COMPYLIT BE SIR DAUID LYNDESAY OF THE MONT. &C.

ANE DIALOG BETUIX EXPERIENCE AND ANE COURTEOUR, OFF THE MISERABYLL ESTAIT OF THE WARLD.

THE EPISTIL TO THE REDAR.

THE PROLOGE.

THE FIRST BVKE OF THE MONARCHE.

ANE EXCLAMATIOUN TO THE REDAR, TWYCHEYNG THE WRYTTYNG OF UULGARE AND MATERNALL LANGUAGE.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE CREATIOUN OF ADAM AND EUE.

OF THE MISERABYLL TRANSGRESSIOUN OF ADAM.

HEIR FOLLOWIS QUHOV GOD DISTROYIT ALL LEUEAND CREATURE IN ERTH, FOR SYN, AND DROWNIT THAME, BE ANE TERRIBYLL FLUDE, IN THE TYME OF NOYE.

HEIR ENDIS THE FIRST PART. AND FOLLOWIS THE SECUNDE PART.

IN THE FIRST, THE BEILDYNG OF BABILONE BE NEMROD. AND QUHOW KYNG NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST MONARCHE. AND OF THARE YDOLATRYE. AND QUHOW SEMERAMIS, GOUERNIT THE IMPYRE, EFTER HIR HUSBANDE KYNG NYNUS. AS FOLLOWIS.

QUHOV GOD MAID THE DYUERSITIE OF LANGUAGIS. AND MAID IMPEDIMENT TO THE BEILDARIS OF BABILONE.

OF THE FIRST INUENTIOUN OF YDOLATRIE. QUHOW NEMBROTH COMPELD THE PEPLE TYLL ADORE THE FYRE IN CALDIA.

OF THE GRET MISERE AND SKAYTHIS THAT CUMIS OF WERIS. AND QUHOW KING NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST WERIS, AND STRAIK THE FIRST BATTELL.

HEIR FOLLOWITH ANE SCHORTE DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE FOUR MONARCHIS. AND QUHOW KYNG NYNUS BEGAN THE FIRST MONARCHIE.

QUHOV KING NYNUS INUENTIT THE FIRST YDOLATRIE OF YMAGIS.

OFF IMAGEIS VSIT AMANG CRISTIN MEN.

HEIR FOLLOWIS ONE EXCLAMATIOUN AGANIS IDOLATRIE.

HEIR FOLLOUIS QUHOV KYNG NYNUS BEILDIT THE GRET CITIE OF NYNIUE, AND QUHOW HE UINCUSTE ZOROASTES, THE KYNG OFF BACTRIA.

HEIR FOLLOWIS SUM OF THE VVOUNDERFULL DEDIS OF THE LUSTIE QUENE SEMERAMIS.

OFF KYNG NYNUS SEPULTURE.

QUHOV THE QUENE SEMERAMIS, WITH ONE GRET ARMIE, PAST TO YNDE, AND FAUCHT WITH THE KYNG STAWROBATES. AND OF HIR MISERRABYLL END.

QUHOV KING SARDANAPALUS, FOR HIS VITIOUS LIFE, MAID ANE MISERABILL END.

Epitaphium Sardanapali.

HEIR ENDIS THE SECUND PART. AND BEGYNNIS THE THRID PART.

ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE SECUND, THRID, AND FERD MONARCHE.

OF YE MOST MISERABYL AND MOST TERRABILL DISTRUCTIOUN OF IERUSALEM.

OFF YE MISERABYLL END OFF CERTANE TYRANE PRINCIS. AND, SPECIALLYE, THE BEGYNARRIS OF THE FOUR MONARCHEIS.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE FYFT SPIRITUALL, AND PAPALL MONARCHIE.

HEIR FOLLOWIS ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE COURT OF ROME.

HEIR ENDIS THE THRIDE PART. AND BEGYNNIS THE FOURT, MAKAND MENTIOUN OF THE DEITH. AND OF THE ANTICHRIST. AND GENERALL IUGEMENT. AND OF CERTANE PLESOURIS OF GLORIFIET BODYIS. AND QUHOW EUERY CREATURE DESYRIS TO SE THE LAST DAY. WITH ANE EXHORTATIOUN, BE EXPERIENCE, TO THE COURTIOUR. .&C.

OFF THE DEITH.

ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOVN OF THE ANTECHRISTE.

HEIR FOLLOUIS A SCHORT REMEMBRANCE OF THE MOSTE TERRABYLL DAY OF THE EXTREME IUGEMENT.

THE MANER QUHOW CHRIST SALL CUM TO HIS IUGEMENT.

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE MANER QUHOV CHRIST SALL GEUE HIS SENTENCE.

OFF CERTANE PLESOURIS OF THE GLORIFEIT BODEIS.

ANE EXHORTATIOUN GYFFIN BE FATHER EXPERIENCE VNTO HIS SONE THE CURTEOUR.

DOUBTFUL POEM AND LINES

ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF PEDER COFFEIS HAVING NA REGAIRD TILL HONESTIE IN THAIR VOCATIOUN.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

[Habitare fratres in unum][_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

ANE DISCRIPTIOUN OF PEDER COFFEIS HAVING NA REGAIRD TILL HONESTIE IN THAIR VOCATIOUN.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Habitare fratres in unum]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.