 | Satirical poems of the reformation |  |
204
XXX. My Lord Methwenis Tragedie.
Thow emptie pen! pas but experience,
with dull indyte, and do thy diligence,
This pure cōplaint with pietie to deploir.
Of Muses vane I ask na Eloquence,
Bot only God, of his greit Excellence,
Him to ressaif in Euerlasting gloir,
Quhome dolent deith hes laitly done deuoir;
Unlukellie, allace! gif man micht mend it:
Slane with ane schot: sa is the gude Lord endit.
with dull indyte, and do thy diligence,
This pure cōplaint with pietie to deploir.
Of Muses vane I ask na Eloquence,
Bot only God, of his greit Excellence,
Him to ressaif in Euerlasting gloir,
Quhome dolent deith hes laitly done deuoir;
Unlukellie, allace! gif man micht mend it:
Slane with ane schot: sa is the gude Lord endit.
Methwen may murne, and all the bounds about,
For Hary Stewart, that was bauld and stout,
Constant and kynd, with qualiteis conding.
In smallest danger, nane beleuand dout,
Inuyous Fortoun swa did waill him out,
Lyke as at Roxburgh raid scho slew our King,
Ane greit foirtakin of ane weill war thing.
To se the saikles puneist sa with roddis:
The scharper scurge is cūmand for the Toddis.
For Hary Stewart, that was bauld and stout,
Constant and kynd, with qualiteis conding.
In smallest danger, nane beleuand dout,
Inuyous Fortoun swa did waill him out,
Lyke as at Roxburgh raid scho slew our King,
Ane greit foirtakin of ane weill war thing.
To se the saikles puneist sa with roddis:
The scharper scurge is cūmand for the Toddis.
205
Sic is thair craft in clymming to the Crowne,
The pure King Hary pieteously put downe,
Nocht be thair force bot fyring of ane trane;
The Erle of Murray murdreist with ane lowne,
And Lennox last, ȝe saw, in Striuiling Towne;
Gude George Ruthuen with thay rebalds slane;
Garleis, Dundas, quhilk wer baith trew & plane;
Dowglas of Lyntoun & gude Westiraw was last,
with lytill meaning, fra the men be past.
The pure King Hary pieteously put downe,
Nocht be thair force bot fyring of ane trane;
The Erle of Murray murdreist with ane lowne,
And Lennox last, ȝe saw, in Striuiling Towne;
Gude George Ruthuen with thay rebalds slane;
Garleis, Dundas, quhilk wer baith trew & plane;
Dowglas of Lyntoun & gude Westiraw was last,
with lytill meaning, fra the men be past.
Bot to my taill and Tragedie returne:
The gude Lord Methuen makis me to murne,
That all my senses suddānly doun fais.
Quha hes the breist nor it in baill wald burne,
To se ȝone tratoures do sa foule ane turne?
Gif that our Lords wald craib for ony cais,
wa worth the tyme he went about ȝone wais!
wa worth the Towne, the Castell, and the craig!
Sic tyme sall cum that God sall pour his plaig.
The gude Lord Methuen makis me to murne,
That all my senses suddānly doun fais.
Quha hes the breist nor it in baill wald burne,
To se ȝone tratoures do sa foule ane turne?
Gif that our Lords wald craib for ony cais,
wa worth the tyme he went about ȝone wais!
wa worth the Towne, the Castell, and the craig!
Sic tyme sall cum that God sall pour his plaig.
wa worth his weirds (gif ony weirds can be!)
Parcas, Lacheses, Atrapus, all thre!
Fy on the, Fortoun, with thy fenȝeit smyle!
war deid substantiall maid of stane or tre,
I suld not rest, bot me reuenge on the.
Micht thow not spair yat Lord to liue a quhyle?
Ane of the best was borne in all this Ile.
Gif it wald rute to reckin out sic taillis,
Gude to be war, quhen wickitness preuaillis.
Parcas, Lacheses, Atrapus, all thre!
Fy on the, Fortoun, with thy fenȝeit smyle!
war deid substantiall maid of stane or tre,
I suld not rest, bot me reuenge on the.
Micht thow not spair yat Lord to liue a quhyle?
Ane of the best was borne in all this Ile.
Gif it wald rute to reckin out sic taillis,
Gude to be war, quhen wickitness preuaillis.
Of twentie ȝeiris, ȝing, and sa discreit,
Meik of his maners, mansuetude, and sweit,
Lord lyke, allace! he had our lytill feir;
Aganis his fais ay formest on his feit,
With lāmis vult, and with ane Lyouns spreit,
Quha had mair grace to gouerne men of weir?
And, gif I spak of Culuering, bow, and speir,
He was not borne was better of sic playis,
(war he not Lord) nor lyke him of his dayis.
Meik of his maners, mansuetude, and sweit,
Lord lyke, allace! he had our lytill feir;
Aganis his fais ay formest on his feit,
With lāmis vult, and with ane Lyouns spreit,
206
And, gif I spak of Culuering, bow, and speir,
He was not borne was better of sic playis,
(war he not Lord) nor lyke him of his dayis.
Ȝing, lusty, lufesum, liberall, and large,
Ane greit defender of our chosin Barge;
In trublous time yow micht haif steirt ye ruther:
Few better heir bene Chiftane to haue charge,
Aganis Lord Greid, to beir the goldin Targe;
In all this land thow left not sic ane vther.
The Sācts of God may say thay want ane brother,
Sic as at na tyme can thay get for graith,
Sa frak, sa fordwart to defend thair faith.
Ane greit defender of our chosin Barge;
In trublous time yow micht haif steirt ye ruther:
Few better heir bene Chiftane to haue charge,
Aganis Lord Greid, to beir the goldin Targe;
In all this land thow left not sic ane vther.
The Sācts of God may say thay want ane brother,
Sic as at na tyme can thay get for graith,
Sa frak, sa fordwart to defend thair faith.
In the was wit, wisdome, and worthynes;
In the was grace, groundit with godlynes;
In the was meiknes and humilitie;
In the was fredome, force, and ferynes;
In the was manly mowis and maryness,
with mercy, science, and Ciuilitie.
To the Dame nature gaue abilitie,
Pringnant of wit, of policie but peir,
Rype of ingyne, with iudgement perqueir.
In the was grace, groundit with godlynes;
In the was meiknes and humilitie;
In the was fredome, force, and ferynes;
In the was manly mowis and maryness,
with mercy, science, and Ciuilitie.
To the Dame nature gaue abilitie,
Pringnant of wit, of policie but peir,
Rype of ingyne, with iudgement perqueir.
In honest pastyme was thy haill delyte:
Thow bure the toung that neuer spak dispyte;
Walkryfe in weirs, and watcheman to the rest:
For na offence culd thow be forsit to flyte
Aganis thy seruandis, thocht thay wer to wyte;
But with thy wysdome weyit it at the best:
Thy houshald trim and treit weill, thay confest,
Quhairfoir thay mys the mair nor all the laif,
Quhen thay remember on the giftis thow gaif.
Thow bure the toung that neuer spak dispyte;
Walkryfe in weirs, and watcheman to the rest:
For na offence culd thow be forsit to flyte
Aganis thy seruandis, thocht thay wer to wyte;
But with thy wysdome weyit it at the best:
Thy houshald trim and treit weill, thay confest,
Quhairfoir thay mys the mair nor all the laif,
Quhen thay remember on the giftis thow gaif.
207
Had Stewarts stoutnes, as the mater stands,
Thay wald not faill to fecht it with thair hands,
To se yame murdreist doun yat dois belāg yame;
Bot sum ar feirit for fyring of thair lands,
And sum ar lyand obleist vnder bands,
That dar not steir, suppois the tother hang yame.
Blist be the barne yat is not borne amang thame,
Thay beand beistis that hes bene men befoir,
Cōpairit with Gedds that dois thair fry deuoir.
Thay wald not faill to fecht it with thair hands,
To se yame murdreist doun yat dois belāg yame;
Bot sum ar feirit for fyring of thair lands,
And sum ar lyand obleist vnder bands,
That dar not steir, suppois the tother hang yame.
Blist be the barne yat is not borne amang thame,
Thay beand beistis that hes bene men befoir,
Cōpairit with Gedds that dois thair fry deuoir.
Fy on the! Atholl! quhat dois thow requyre?
May not thir murthers mufe thy hart to Ire?
Gif thow had mettall, man, to bring the to!
Thy dowbill faith may not abyde the fyre,
Swa misbeleif sall leif the in the myre.
Or hes thy wyfe the wyte of it? quhair is scho?
Defend the caus, man, quhill the King cum to:
Gif naturall kyndnes kindillis vp thy breist,
We, beand doun, na dout thow salbe neist.
May not thir murthers mufe thy hart to Ire?
Gif thow had mettall, man, to bring the to!
Thy dowbill faith may not abyde the fyre,
Swa misbeleif sall leif the in the myre.
Or hes thy wyfe the wyte of it? quhair is scho?
Defend the caus, man, quhill the King cum to:
Gif naturall kyndnes kindillis vp thy breist,
We, beand doun, na dout thow salbe neist.
God saue King James, thow may say, allace!
Exceptand only God mon gyde thy grace;
For temporall Lords, thay leif the few on lyue;
Thy Father murdreist in ane mischant place,
Syne baith thy Regents of ane Royall race,
with sindrie vther Nobills four or fyue;
And, last of all, I laith wer to discryue
The manly Methwen mischantly put downe,
Slane for thy saik for sauing of thy Crowne.
Exceptand only God mon gyde thy grace;
For temporall Lords, thay leif the few on lyue;
Thy Father murdreist in ane mischant place,
Syne baith thy Regents of ane Royall race,
with sindrie vther Nobills four or fyue;
And, last of all, I laith wer to discryue
The manly Methwen mischantly put downe,
Slane for thy saik for sauing of thy Crowne.
For the mantenance of thy lyfe and law
I note bot few, or nane, with sic ouirthraw,
As only Ruthwen: this my ressoun quhy:
His Father first, gif I the suith suld schaw,
Deit in exyle for honest caus, ȝe knaw;
His douchtie brothers deith can nane deny;
Now Methwen last, beleuand sorrow by,
Quhilk hes mair barrat to his breist inbrocht,
Nor all the laif, gif he culd leif his thocht.
I note bot few, or nane, with sic ouirthraw,
As only Ruthwen: this my ressoun quhy:
His Father first, gif I the suith suld schaw,
Deit in exyle for honest caus, ȝe knaw;
208
Now Methwen last, beleuand sorrow by,
Quhilk hes mair barrat to his breist inbrocht,
Nor all the laif, gif he culd leif his thocht.
Thocht we be subiect to mortalitie,
Ȝit God Indewis vs with sic qualitie
That naturall kyndnes causis vs to cair;
Bot let na Carnall Corporalitie
Conplane on Christ for partialitie,
To tak his awin men outher lait or air:
Lat deid to deid, and die not in dispair;
Ryse and reuenge the Ruthwen on ȝone rout:
Quhat will it mend to murne thy senses out?
Ȝit God Indewis vs with sic qualitie
That naturall kyndnes causis vs to cair;
Bot let na Carnall Corporalitie
Conplane on Christ for partialitie,
To tak his awin men outher lait or air:
Lat deid to deid, and die not in dispair;
Ryse and reuenge the Ruthwen on ȝone rout:
Quhat will it mend to murne thy senses out?
As to the Lords that hes begun this actioū,
I feir thair tyme be turnand to detractioun,
Gif thay repent not this I spak befoir;
Exame thair conscience of particular pactioun,
Gif thay be fauourers of the tother factioun,
(And gif swa be,) thair mys mon be the moir;
God will not be abusit with sic vane gloir:
The storme approches quhen ye Poills are fairest,
The langer spairit, the plaigue is ay the sairest.
I feir thair tyme be turnand to detractioun,
Gif thay repent not this I spak befoir;
Exame thair conscience of particular pactioun,
Gif thay be fauourers of the tother factioun,
(And gif swa be,) thair mys mon be the moir;
God will not be abusit with sic vane gloir:
The storme approches quhen ye Poills are fairest,
The langer spairit, the plaigue is ay the sairest.
The day is neir, as I dar weill deplane ȝow,
The wraith of God is lyke to gang aganis ȝow
For spairing men of Macheuillus Scuillis:
How may ȝe saue ȝone smaiks yat wald haif slane ȝow?
And ȝe wer in yair hāds, yai wald not hane ȝow;
Thay play the men & ȝe the febill fuillis:
Quhat is the caus, let se, ȝour curage cuillis?
Particular proffeit, durst I speik it out,
Ȝit thay ar daylie murdreist doun thay dout.
The wraith of God is lyke to gang aganis ȝow
For spairing men of Macheuillus Scuillis:
How may ȝe saue ȝone smaiks yat wald haif slane ȝow?
And ȝe wer in yair hāds, yai wald not hane ȝow;
Thay play the men & ȝe the febill fuillis:
Quhat is the caus, let se, ȝour curage cuillis?
Particular proffeit, durst I speik it out,
Ȝit thay ar daylie murdreist doun thay dout.
209
To mak sic change, ȝe wair ȝour wit in vane,
As thairs for ouris, and ouris for thairs agane:
Thair mō ȝe grant yair groūd all gude as ȝours;
Bot, quhair ȝe gat thame, wald ȝe flour the grane?
That beand done, na dout thay wald be fane
For to renounce thair Law and cum to ours;
Do ȝe not sa, ȝe sall thoill scharper schours,
Sic vane excambion can I not considder,
As marrow tratours and the trew togidder.
As thairs for ouris, and ouris for thairs agane:
Thair mō ȝe grant yair groūd all gude as ȝours;
Bot, quhair ȝe gat thame, wald ȝe flour the grane?
That beand done, na dout thay wald be fane
For to renounce thair Law and cum to ours;
Do ȝe not sa, ȝe sall thoill scharper schours,
Sic vane excambion can I not considder,
As marrow tratours and the trew togidder.
I dar be bauld to say sen this began,
Had we bot vsit the victorie we wan,
With gloir to God that gaif thame in our hands,
we nedit not or now to want ane man.
Bot quhen we tak thame, solistatioun than
Dois clap thair heid; the counsall sa commandis:
Quhairfoir I feir that God sal burne ye wandis,
As, for exempill, I can let ȝow seit,
For spairing sinfull, how the saikles deit.
Had we bot vsit the victorie we wan,
With gloir to God that gaif thame in our hands,
we nedit not or now to want ane man.
Bot quhen we tak thame, solistatioun than
Dois clap thair heid; the counsall sa commandis:
Quhairfoir I feir that God sal burne ye wandis,
As, for exempill, I can let ȝow seit,
For spairing sinfull, how the saikles deit.
As Quheit is strukin for the stra besyde,
And siluer fyne mon to the Furnes glyde,
To get the dros deuydit, as we se,
Thocht King Josias did in Christ confyde,
Befoir the plaigue come, God will sa prouyde:
He will not thoill the iust with thame to die;
Bot, quhair he takis away sic men as he,
The riche, the wyse, the Capitane, or the gyde,
Thair sall the pepill punischment abyde.
And siluer fyne mon to the Furnes glyde,
To get the dros deuydit, as we se,
Thocht King Josias did in Christ confyde,
Befoir the plaigue come, God will sa prouyde:
He will not thoill the iust with thame to die;
Bot, quhair he takis away sic men as he,
The riche, the wyse, the Capitane, or the gyde,
Thair sall the pepill punischment abyde.
Quhat nedit Noy for sin to suffer wrak?
Nor faithfull Lot, bot for the wickits saik?
Caleb and Josua in cūming to the land?
For Ophny and Phines, that the battell straik,
The Innocent Ely all his banis braik;
The Ark of God was caryit of thair hand,
And ȝit thair fais micht better haue lattin it stand:
Suppois the saikles slane was for offences,
Ȝit did the Phelistims faill of thair pretences.
Nor faithfull Lot, bot for the wickits saik?
Caleb and Josua in cūming to the land?
For Ophny and Phines, that the battell straik,
The Innocent Ely all his banis braik;
210
And ȝit thair fais micht better haue lattin it stand:
Suppois the saikles slane was for offences,
Ȝit did the Phelistims faill of thair pretences.
And gredy Acan, for the geir he hid—
Twa golden braislettis—lytill thing he did:
Ȝit was the pepill puneist for sic playis.
Haue we sic wrangous geir—na, God forbeid—
As Crowats, Sensours, or ane Challeis leid?
Quhilk will be found na fault now heir a dayis.
For spairing Agag, as the Scripture sayis,
The hous of Saule was puneist, and his seid,
Not spairing Jonathan for his douchtie deid.
Twa golden braislettis—lytill thing he did:
Ȝit was the pepill puneist for sic playis.
Haue we sic wrangous geir—na, God forbeid—
As Crowats, Sensours, or ane Challeis leid?
Quhilk will be found na fault now heir a dayis.
For spairing Agag, as the Scripture sayis,
The hous of Saule was puneist, and his seid,
Not spairing Jonathan for his douchtie deid.
Siclyke King Dauid thoillit pane and greif:
His wickit barnetyme brocht him to mischeif:
His Capitane, Joab, Absolone forbure;
Bot far ma Joabs heir, for thair releif,
with solistatioun, quhen we tak ane theif,
Suppois ȝe wist he wrocht ȝour self iniure,
Swa sum beleuis, haue baith the sydes sa sure;
And ȝit I hope thay sall not want thair hyre,
As Absolone set Joabs corne in fyre.
His wickit barnetyme brocht him to mischeif:
His Capitane, Joab, Absolone forbure;
Bot far ma Joabs heir, for thair releif,
with solistatioun, quhen we tak ane theif,
Suppois ȝe wist he wrocht ȝour self iniure,
Swa sum beleuis, haue baith the sydes sa sure;
And ȝit I hope thay sall not want thair hyre,
As Absolone set Joabs corne in fyre.
The King Roboam raschely did ouirluik
The auld wyse counsall, and the fulische tuik;
Quhairfoir he tynt his kyndlie Trybes ten.
And Jeroboam, in that samin buik,
Set vp new Idols and his God forsuik,
Quhill Abiah slew fyue hundreth thousand men:
Swa Bennadab was Captiue, as ye ken,
Bot, quhair the iust dois ioyne thame with forsakin,
Be war thay get not wickit Acabs takin.
The auld wyse counsall, and the fulische tuik;
Quhairfoir he tynt his kyndlie Trybes ten.
And Jeroboam, in that samin buik,
Set vp new Idols and his God forsuik,
Quhill Abiah slew fyue hundreth thousand men:
Swa Bennadab was Captiue, as ye ken,
Bot, quhair the iust dois ioyne thame with forsakin,
Be war thay get not wickit Acabs takin.
211
Quhat dois it proffeit Poetrie prophane?
Sen trew Preicheours speikis it to ȝow plane,
Ȝit neuer mercy in your mynd remordis:
As fruteles seid it neuer growis a grane.
Bot to my taill heir I returne agane:
This Tragedie may staik, to tell the Lordis,
Ane thousand fyue hundreth Sempill sa recordis
Thre scoir and twelf, suppois the veirse be vane,
The thrid of marche was worthy Methwē slane.
Sen trew Preicheours speikis it to ȝow plane,
Ȝit neuer mercy in your mynd remordis:
As fruteles seid it neuer growis a grane.
Bot to my taill heir I returne agane:
This Tragedie may staik, to tell the Lordis,
Ane thousand fyue hundreth Sempill sa recordis
Thre scoir and twelf, suppois the veirse be vane,
The thrid of marche was worthy Methwē slane.
Finis with the Dytone
Quod Sempill.
The Lord to delyuer the laif of this blude,
And send vs ane sythmēt of yis suddane slauchter;
The King & his counsall inspyre yame with gude,
And mak vs not an futestuil to our fais lauchter.
And send vs ane sythmēt of yis suddane slauchter;
The King & his counsall inspyre yame with gude,
And mak vs not an futestuil to our fais lauchter.
| Satirical poems of the reformation | |