University of Virginia Library

The Prologve

To the Reidar.

Becavs I was reprouit of befoir,
That I suld not in Clerklie termes gloir:
Bot in plaine speiche my buik for to addres
With commoun talk, bot zit neuer the les
This Tale of auld I hard quhilk is richt trew,
And richt weill knawin, that neid oft makis vertew
Thairfoir on force, becaus strange termes I want
I haue na dout, bot heir thay sall be skant.
Thairfoir in tyme I think best to deny thame,
Zone fair Lady me think scho settis nocht by yame
Ane vther caus siclike I wait ze ken
For to bring but its Ill thats not thair ben.
Nor thair is nane, I wait in all this toun
Except he haue it, that can put on ane goun.
Of ane twme Twn, nane can draw out licour,
Nor of ane fule to make a wise Doctour.
For quhy wit wants, quhair wisdome suld cum fra
Into this case, the mater stands sa.
Force me compellis, strange termes to forbeir,
Within my box thairs few to get or leir.
Quhair Gold is skant, siluer mon vs content,
Euen sa it stands but dout at this present.
Praying hartlie this Tale in patience tak,
A man can sell nathing out of his pak
Bot as he hes, than present for the tyme,
Ze may persaue that be this roustie ryme.
Beseiking zow gude Reidars to excuse it,
Not to detract, nor zit ouir hie to ruse it.
This I wald wis my freinds ze wald do so,
Than in Goddis name to purpois lat vs go.

Heir beginnis the seuin Seages, translatit furth of prois in Scottis meter be Iohne Rolland in Dalkeith.

Moralitas.

How the Empreour committit and delyuerit his Sone to the seuin Doctouris of Rome to leir.

Moralitas.

How the Empreour be counsall of his Princes, and Lordis of his Impyre weddit ane vther wyfe.

In this meane time the Princes of honour,
And the greit Lordis come to the Empreour,
And said my Lord and pleis ȝour nobill grace
Heir we ar cum to schaw how standis the cace.
Bot ane ȝoung Childe, we knaw na moir ȝe ha
And plesit God, we wald that ȝe had ma
And it may stand be fatale destanie,
That ȝour ane Sone may Inlaik faill and die
As God forbid, that sic ane thing suld chance,
Zit not the les we wald mak puruyance.
Than war we all of ane new natiue King
Maid destitute abone vs for to ring,
Quhairthrow strange folke & vncouth natioūs
Micht conqueis vs, and all our generatiounis.
Quhilk neuer was sen this Impire began
Conqueist, ouirthrawin with ony mortall man
Sen Romulus, quhilk buyldit Romes toun,
Was neuer man that had dominioun
Of this Impire, but Nobill natiue Kingis,
And to auoide sa greit and perrellous things:
This is the caus we ar cum to ȝour grace
To schaw ȝow all the mater and the cace,
That sic ane thing is richt abill to be
To put the Realme furth of sic Ieopardie,
We wald ȝe tuke sum honest gay Ladie
Zour Nobill Quene and bedfellow to be,
To that effect successioun for to haue,
And ȝour Impire fra thir dangeris to saue.
The Empreour than heirand all thair sawis,
Quhat sic thing ment of the mater and caus.
He thankit thame ane hundreth thousand syse,
And said he wald do as thay did deuyse.
Of thair counsall richt weill content he was,
And thame requyrit to purpois for to pas.
Ane Lady get that was of tender age,
Baith gude and fair, and cum of hie lynage.
And clene Virgin and lustie to behald,
Than sall I do the same thing that ȝe wald.
Wed hir to wife, and Crowne hir to my Quene
Into this case lat ȝour wisdomes be sene.
Sa thay depart than fra the Empreour
Deuisit thair Lordis of wisdome and valour,
To seik this Quene throw mony lands yai past
Quhill thay come to ane countrie at the last
Callit Cecyll, quhilk had ane Nobill King,
Quhilk Royallie into his Realme did Ring,
With greit puissance, riches and honour,
Quha had ane Mayd of all fairnes the flour
To his douchter of fourtene ȝeir of age
Nobill, courtes, and plesand of visage.
With all vertew that in wemen micht be,
And wise at will siclike appeirandlie.
Quhome thay desirit at this gude Nobill King
In Mariage to the Empreour bring,
And mak hir Quene of all the haill Impire
This Nobill King grantit to thair desire.
The Lordis of Counsall and Ambassadouris
War than depeschit with plesure & honouris,
And brocht with thame this Nobill gay Ladie
Quhilk yair ȝoūg Quene & als Emprice suld be
Thay heisit vp sails with all thair clene curage
With manlie micht come fordwart yair veyage
Vpon the sey thay sufferit greit perrell
In hame cumming, be sair storme and trauell
Walterād with wind out throw ye mudy wawis
The boriall blastis sa bauldlie on thame blawis
That thay war fane and Ioyfull at the last
To saue thair lyfis, for to cut thair mane Mast.
Cut thair Cabillis, and ouir burd cast thair geir
All of thair lifis thay stude into sic feir.
Sum of thame said, it was ane schrewit Sing
Of ane gude luck sic ane Quene hame to bring,
Quhairthrow thay war all in point for to tine,
And wist not quhat wald be the latter fine.
Sum said agane all was cum for the best,
Scho was wyteles, howbeit storme thame opprest.
Sa ilk ane said as yai yat time bethocht
Sa at dew time to thair awin coist was brocht
Als sone thay come vnto thair kyndlie coist,
Doun drew thair saills, and thair gude schippis loist
Than word beliue come to the Empreour
That all his Lordis was landit with plesour,
And with them brocht ane Nobill ȝoung Ladie
Quhilk to the King his weddit wyfe suld be.
The empreour causit proclame throw Romes toū
That euerie Lord, Knichte Marques & Barroū
In best array to mak thame all reddy
With fair fassoun to meit that ȝoung Lady,
Quhilk but delay was done with diligence,
And sa thay gaue this Lady all presence:
In riche array, as thay culd best deuise,
With all triumph, and into thair best wise
To the Cietie thay did hir all conuoy,
With all glaidnes, mirth, melodie and Ioy.
And quhen scho come vnto this Nobill toun,
The Bellis rang with honour and Renoun.
The claithis of gold was spred throw all ye streit
Quhen scho lichtit, to gang vpon hir feit.
The riche Badkins, the coistlie veluot wobbis
The browdin warkis, & the riche Ryall robbis
Quhilk on the stairis war spred sa heich on hie
It was plesure for ony man to se.
With all vther warldis vane fantasise,
That mannis braine and Ingyne culd deuise.
And sa at last come in the Empreour
With his greit Lordis of riches and honour.
Gaue this Lady his persoun in presence,
With all triumph, Renoun and reuerence:
And hir Imbraist as culd him best effeir,
And said Lady ȝe ar richt welcum heir
Than the greit Ioy that in that Cietie was
My waik Ingyne can na way weill compas
Sa on the morne quhen that the day was licht
Vnto the Kirk thay led this Lady bricht,
With all triumphe, greit mirth and melodie
With mennis wit that culd deuisit be.
Conuoyit with Kingis nobill Princes & Lords
As at sic time aggreis weill and accords.
Sine followit hir the Nobill Empreour
With all his Lords, that was of greit valour.
Stout men of Armes into thair waillit weidis
Rydand at richt vpon thair stalwart steidis.
Als with him come diuers grit kings & knichts
Duiks, Barroūs, erls, & mony worthie wichts
With trūpet, schalme, drum, squasche & clarioū,
Harp, Lut, Organe, Symbal and Symphioū
Makand thair mirth all into gude ordour,
Heraldis of Armes into thair coit Armour:
Past on befoir as it was maist semelie
In thair awin stait, conforme to thair degre.
Quhill thay come to the Royall Kirk of Rome
Quhilk was the heid of Kirkis in christindome
Thair lichtit thay with mirth and merynes
For to compleit the band of halynes:
That GOD deuysit betuix woman and man
Quhen he this warld first creat and began.
Of that Cietie the greit Bischop was thair,
With all his Clerkis of greit wisdome and lair
This band being compleit in Goddis Name
With mirth and Ioy to the Palice past hame,
Quhair thair was maid banket with melodie,
With alkin mirth and plesant menstralie.
Quhill that nicht come, than Ilk man thocht it best
To quyet pas and tak the nichtis rest.
Sa this Lady but ony tarying
Scho past to bed with hir housband the King
And sa obtenit the greit fauour and lufe
Of hir gude Lord, that it culd not remufe.
And of hir lufe he tuke sa greit delite,
That vther Quene he had forȝet hir quite:
And all his lufe was cast on this new Quene
As he befoir had neuer Maryit bene.
Zit not the les all the dayis of thair lyue
God thocht he wald all barnis fra them dryue
Sa thame betuix thay na successioun had
Quhilk maid this quene baith sorrowful & sad
Sayand husband, ane thing I ȝow require
Gif ȝe wald grant richt hartlie I desire.
Becaus lang time this Emprice did persaue
Na kynd of Childe scho was able to haue.
Scho turnit hir Saillis vnto ane vther wind
Quhair that scho micht sum suttelnes gar find.
Into hir bed quhair that scho was lyand
In ane morning with hir spous and husband.
Scho sayis my Lord, & pleis ȝour Nobil grace
Betuix vs twa is chancit ane heuie cace,
That be na way can get vs successioun
Quhilk sadis my hart, & dois me greit passioū
Bot wald ȝour grace ane thing vnto me grant,
Betuix vs twa ane Childe we suld not want.
Quod he that thing deuyse how that ȝe can,
For that exceidis the wit of ony man
For to get barnis, sen God will not thame grant
Than force it is baith ȝe and I thame want.
Scho said my Lord it is vnto me schawin,
Ze haue ane Sone quhilk is not to me knawin
With seuin Maisters, maist wysest on the groūd
And he him self, nane wyser can be found.
Wald ȝe bring him to Court in my presence
I suld do all deuoir and diligence,
Him to Intreit into sa gude fassoun,
That all suld say out throw greit Romes toun
Not onlie said, but also suld be sworne,
That he war of my awin twa sydis borne.
And sen sa is, That I can nocht consaue,
Onlie ȝour Sone, as my awin I wald haue
My Lord this is the asking I require,
Beseiking ȝow to fulfill my desire.
Zit not the les hir minde was and hir thocht
In sutteltie, and all with malice wrocht.
Imagining daylie the Chyldis deid
Thocht his Father tuke not sic thing in heid,
He said Lady that will I not deny
Quhat euer ȝe ask, enamorit sa am I
Into ȝour lufe, that force compellis me
Quhat ȝe will ask, denyit it sall not be.
Thairfoir sen I the secretis of my hart
Schawis to ȝow plaine, to me keip ȝe ȝour part
As for my Sone it is lang time by past
And diuers ȝeiris sen that I saw him last.
Zit not the les to accomplische ȝour will,
I sall belyue ane Message send him till,
And caus him cum, and als his Maisters all
Quhat he can do baith heir and se ȝe sall.
For I beleue he hes bene diligent
In his studie, and in science frequent.
And for to leir, wit, knawledge and wisdome
That efter me for to gyde this kingdome.
Scho said my Lord, that it be sa God grant,
For that same caus I wald na way him want.
Bot gif scho said thir wordis with hir hart
Ze will persaue be proces efterwart.
The Empreour sone gart mak ane missiue,
The Messinger he was direct beliue:
Into greit haist with expeditioun,
Vnto the seuin greit Maisteris of Renoun.
Incontinent vnder the pane of deid,
And na les pane nor wanting of thair heid:
Suld bring his Sone to him at Witsonday,
All excuses being clene put away.
The Messinger beliue depeschit was
To the Doctouris the hie gait can he pas
And the wrytingis delyuerit sone hes he,
Vnto the seuin Doctouris of Dignitie.
Quha it ressauit with all Obedience,
Humilitie, honour and reuerence.

Moralitas.

How the seuin Maisteris efter the sicht of the Empreouris Letteris wald first se the cours of the Firmament and Planetis, quhidder it was gude to obey his cōmandement or not.

Moralitas.

Breuis in volatilibus est apis, & initium dulcoris hunc fructus illius. Ecclesiast. xj.

How the Empreour raid to meit his Sone comming fra the studie, with greit Pomp and Pryde.

And sa as thay had enterit to veyage
The Poistis ran with all haistie Message
To Romes toun, and tauld the Empreour
That his ane Sone, with all haist and laubour
Was cumming hame, on hors the reddy way.
His Fatheris will and Precept to obey.
Than his Father Incontinent gart call
His greit Princes, and vther Lordis all,
And bad thame be in reddynes Ilkane,
He wald ga meit his Sone Dioclesiane.
The seuin Maisters perfytelie sa knawand
The Empreour, with his Court was cūmand.
Vnto the Childe all in ane voce thay said,
We think it best sum danger to auoid,
That we all seuin pas into the Citie,
And ȝe fordward pas with ȝour companie.
In the meane time, that we may all prouyde
Sum help, that may put by this towter tide,
And we sall do all that we can or may
For ȝour supplie, Ilk ane to keip ane day.
The Childe answerit as ȝe will plesis me,
Remember ȝit on my necessitie.
In greit danger I wait that I will stand.
Thairfoir think on quhat ȝe haue tane on hād.
Thay tuke thair leif at him sorrowfullie.
Sine all thay raid toward Romes Citie.
Sa fordwart come Dioclesiane rydand,
And lukis on far saw his Father cumand,
And as thay met, of his hors lichtit doun,
To his Father he maid him reddy boun,
Kneland on kne with all obedience,
Sine his Father with lufe and reuerence,
About his neck oft times he tuke and kist,
That he was dum his Father ȝit not wist.
My awin deir Sone ȝe ar welcum he said
Of ȝour weilfair I am richt wonder glaid.
How is it with ȝow I pray ȝow lat me knaw,
For it is lang afoir sen I ȝow saw.
Thā this ȝoung man ful richt manlike & meik
Bowit doun his heid, & nathing wald he speik
Quhairof his Father meruellit gretumlie
That he agane answerit not Instantlie.
Zit he compast into his mynde agane
Be his Maisters, that he was sa constrane
And commandit, that he suld speik nathing
He on horsbak, be ony way ryding.
Sa hame thay come, out throw the greit Cietie
Of Romes toun, with greit Solemnitie.
Quhill thay come to the Empreours Palice
Quhair that thair was mony antick deuise.
And of thair hors beliue thay lichtit doun
With greit triumph honour and als Renoun,
The Father led his Sone in be the hand
Into the hall, quhair mony was bydand,
And set him doun besyde him at the deis,
The Heralds had sone silence all and ceis.
Than Sone he said, now ȝe will speik to me
Zour seuin Maisters, how do thay tell lat se?
How dois ȝour self, for it is lang ago
Sen I ȝow saw, the suith it is euin so.
Ze ar welcome to me with hart and minde
Sa than the Childe his heid he did Inclinde,
As he wald say, I thank ȝow Father deir,
Quhat euer he thocht thair was na man micht heir.
Quhairat his Father meruellit gretumlie
And in ane part he lukit ernestlie,
And said tell me, withoutin mony sawis
That ȝe speak not, the maner and the caus.
He answerit not, bot bowit doun his heid,
The Empreour saw that than was na remeid,
He pansit in minde, of his Sone not content,
Sa the Emprice gat word Incontinent,
Quhairof scho was wonder Ioyous and glaid
To hir Ladyis with merie minde scho said,
Now will I go Dioclesiane to se,
Quhairfoir that ȝe my best clething bring me.
And sa anone scho went doun to the haw
Quhair that beliue Dioclesiane scho saw
Vpon the deis besyde the Childe sat doun
Is this ȝour sone my Lord suld bruik ȝour croū?
And hes bene teichit with all yt seuin Doctouris
He is to me welcome with all fauouris.
He is my Sone the Empreour said agane,
Bot he speikis not, quhairof I am not fane.
I knaw na thing how it is fallin be chance,
Be Deuilrie, or Godds Ordinance.
Bot all the time to me sen he is cum
I heir nathing, bot alwayis he is dum.
Scho said my Lord delyuer him to me
Gif euer he spak, that ȝe sall heir and se
I sall him caus with wordis fair and meik,
That I dout not bot he will to me speik.
The King said go away with hir and rise
The Childe he rais on his maist humbill wise,
Inclining law with all Obedience,
To his Father randring gude Reuerence.
To the Chalmer with the Emprice he went,
Bot I beleue it plesit not his Intent.

Moralitas.

How the Emprice led Dioclesiane to hir Chalmer for to mak merines, quhilk appeirandlie he withstude.

Moralitas.

How the Emprice complenit to the Empreour of the shame done to hir be his Sone Dioclesiane.

The Empreour with his Lords in the hall
Hard the loud schout, and sorie pieteous call
Of the Emprice, all haistelie thay furth ran.
Mony greit Lord, Knichts and gentilman,
The Empreour come first quhair yt was ye quene
And said Madame, quhat haue ȝe hard or sene
To do ȝow noy, anguische or displesour
O fy scho said, heir is ane greit Tratour
Ze call ȝour Sone, bot ȝour Sone is he nocht.
Had he bene ȝouris sic thing he had not wrocht
I wait it was neuer hard of beforne
In all this warld sen ony man was borne
That sic ane knaif sa hie thing to presume
As to defoull the greit Emprice of Rome
Thairfoir my Lord sen ȝe ar Empreour
This mater maist rynds to ȝour greit honour.
Correct ȝe not sic thing and mak remeid
I reck nathing how sone that I be deid.
For gude causis to Chalmer I him led,
Sine like ane knaif he wald defoulit my bed
I chereist him with wordis of greit comfort,
To speik to me, I bid him oft exhort.
On foull badrie his minde was onlie set,
Fra time he saw his willis he culd not get
At his plesure, he maid him me deforce
Contrair my will, and sa hes rent my Corce,
With effusioun of blude all aboundant,
And beleuing na vther thing Instant
Bot haistie deid, war not I gaue ane schout.
Considder weill gif I stude than in dout.
Ze may persaue be my abilȝement
The treuth heirof, how that he hes it rent.
The sin and schame of this harlot to fle
Ilk man may knaw how he hes done to me.
Thairfoir my Lord, as I haue said befoir,
I ȝow desire ȝe wald caus to restoir
My greit honour, and my worschip agane
That this Rebald fals Dioclesiane
Wald fra me rent forcelie aganis my will,
Or ellis ȝour bed I sall neuer cum till.
Quhen that the King this mater hard and saw
He was Inflambit with cruell Ire and gaw,
Malice, wodnes, and greit Melancholie,
Was na remeid, bot that his Sone suld die.
Callit Sergandis & gaue thame strait cōmand
On ane Gallous thay suld him hang fra hand
Thā said the Lords yt stude the Empreour neir,
And pleis ȝour grace sum of our wordis to heir.
Lord as ȝe knaw, ȝe haue na Sonnis bot ane,
Quhairfoir we all hes greit caus to mak mane,
And gif ȝe had we think all verralie
Zour present Sone war abill for to die.
Bot not the les with sa haistie Intent,
We think not best we say with ane consent
Zour onlie Sone that ȝe sa sone put doun
Without ordour of Law or prouisioun
The Law is maid to punische trespassouris
All geuin to euill and mischant transgressouris
And gif sa be that he be found the same
Than be ordour lat the Law him condame:
That na man say that the greit Empreour
His onlie Sone in wodnes and furour
Without the Law hes put his Sone to deid,
Pleis ȝour greit grace to this mater tak heid.
The Empreour to sic wordis gaue audience,
And said my Lordis, of me ȝe haue credence
Within this Realme to leid Iustice and Law,
Thairfoir I will consent weill to ȝour saw.
And als I think it richt expedient
He be condampnit in ane plane Iudgement.
Than command was to put him in presoun,
Thair to remane without ony ransoun,
Vnto the time that Iustice Court suld stand
Than four Iewellours ressauit him fra hand,
In deip presoun richt schairplie him Inclusit,
Quhairin befoir the Childe was neuer vsit.
Now lat him sit, God couer him of cair,
Of the Emprice lat vs speik farthermair.
Quha perseueirit in malice and greit Ire
Aganis this Childe, as ony byrnand fyre.
As sone as scho had gottin trew knawledge,
That this ȝoung man was put in presonage
Not put to deid, sa suddanlie as scho wald,
Scho cryit, schoutit, and murnit monyfald,
That the Palice scho causit be all on steir
It was greit pane hir for to se and heir
Than hir Ladyis to hir Chalmer thocht best,
Hir to conuoy, thairin for to tak rest.
Quhē nicht was cum, ye King to Chalmer past
And fand his Quene weiping & murning fast
Wringing hir hands, sobbing and siching sair,
The King was noyit to se hir mak sic cair.
To quhome he said, O my deir Lady gent,
Quhat is the caus that ȝe sa sair lament?
Scho said my Lord, knaw ȝe not all the cace,
How ȝour curst Sone hes maid bludie my face.
And wald me put to vtter displesour
War not ȝour self, and vthers maid succour.
Ze commandit, him for to hang fra hand,
Zit not the les, on life he is leifand.
Nor ȝour command is not obeyit at all,
Nor ȝit my schame na way is maid to fall.
Quhairfoir my Lord, I think that ȝe stand aw
Vpon ȝour Sone, to leid Iustice and law.
Than to the Quene the Empreour can say,
Madame sa sone, the morne as it is day
All ȝour desire to fulfill and Intent,
He sall but dout thole Iustice in Iudgement.
Quod scho my Lord, sall he ȝit leif sa lang.
Quod he Madame, lat this ane nicht ouirgang
Than micht sic chance on ȝow cum haistelie
As on ane Burges come of this Cietie.
As it was schawin the treuth vnto my sell.
Quod he Madame, I pray ȝow that to tell.
At ȝour plesure (quod scho) it salbe done,
Sa hir Sermone on this wise began sone.

Moralitas.

To knaw quhat the Empreour, the Emprice, the zoung Chylde, and the seuin Doctouris signifyis.

The first Tale of the Emprice is of the gude tre that grew in the Burges Gardine, and for the Imp that grew besyde it he gart cut the greit tre.

In Romes Toun remanit ane riche Burges
Quhilk had at welth all mirth and merines
With fair biggings, quhilk was baith braid & hie
With gay gardings, yat was plesand to se
Of alkin flouris he had thairin ane part
That was to get about in euerie art.
To tell thair Names I neid not now tak tome
Few was siclyke, sa plesand in all Rome.
In this Gardine thair grew ane Nobill trie
Quhilk euerie ȝeir brocht furth frute gude plētie
Sine by all this the frute that on it grew
Was sa done sweit, and of sa greit vertew.
Quhat man that had ony sair Maladie,
As is Liper, Exces or Popplecie.
Sa sone as he of this frute gat ane taist,
Of all seiknes he wald be haill in haist.
And sa it chancit vpon ane haly day,
This Burges went in his Garding to say
His Orisouns, and behalding this trie
Ane gay ȝoung Imp behynd it quyetlie
He saw growand, quhilk was proper and fair,
Incontinent he callit the Gairdnair.
He said gude freind se ȝe be wonder sure,
And of this Imp daylie that ȝe tak cure,
For I beleue to haue ane better tre
Of that ȝoung plant, and better be sic thre
Nor is the auld, quhilk I can not auance
That pith Inlaikis, sap, sapour and substance.
Howbeit this tre be far growin it abone,
The Gairdnar said, Maister it sall be done.
Within [thir] few dayis to schaw the for certane
To se this plant the Burges come agane,
Quhilk as he thocht, was not half sa plesand
As it was quhen, the first day he it fand.
To the Gairdnar he said how can this be
My tender plant, appeiris not to me
Half sa plesand, as it was the last day.
He said Maister, now tak tent quhat I say
Na wonder is, this auld tre is far mair
And fra the ȝoung takis all substance and air.
Be the ressoun the branches ar so braid,
Sa the ȝoung plant is sa vnliklie maid.
For gif this plant gat the substance and air
That this tre gettis, belyue it wald grow mair,
Nor is the auld, for eild almaist is deid.
The Burges said thairof I wait remeid,
Cut doun the bewis and branches of the auld.
Quod he Maister, I sall do as ȝe haue tauld.
And sa he did, syne efter in schort space
To se the plant, agane come the Burges,
And saw richt weill, that the same tender plant
Sum neidfull thing it did Inlaik and want.
To the Gairdnar he said how chancis this
My tender plant it dois misthriue I wis.
Schaw me the caus thairof without lesing,
He said Maister, I suppois of ane thing,
That is the hicht of this greit growand tre
Haldis away the Sone as thinkis me.
Quhilk geuis life, and nurisching but dout
To alkin thing that euer grew thairout.
And als the rane it may not cum it neir
Quhilk nurischis also sum time of ȝeir.
Thir twa wanting, thair is na tre can thriue
The Burges said, that sall we mend beliue.
Cut the auld clene, and quite doun be the rute,
For I suppone we sall get better frute,
Of this ȝoung tre, nor of the auld was had.
The Gairdnar did as his Maister him bad,
Cuttit the auld, and leit the ȝoung tre stand still,
Sa he obeyit his Maisters minde and will.
Efter schort time as this was done and wrocht,
Baith auld and ȝoūg perischt and come to nocht
Quhairof greit harme and dule come to the pure
For quha was seik, of thair helth thay war sure
Hauand recours vnto that Nobill trie
Quhilk to cut doun, it was ane greit pietie.
And quhen the pure persauit it was cut doun,
Thay curst waryit, with mony malesoun.
That ony way thairto gaue thair counsell,
Or helpit thairto, thay quite condampnit to hell
For quhy the pure of all Infirmiteis
War ay weill curit of all thair Maladeis.
Quod scho my Lord now haue ȝe vnderstand
Quhat I haue said, quod he that I warrand.
Quod scho the Mairch heirof I sall declair
The quhilk pertenis to ȝour vnsonsie Air.

The declaratioun of this Tale tauld be the Emprice.

This auld tre is ȝour awin Nobill persoun.
That with counsall of ȝour Lordis of renoū
The pure and seik dois ay help and supplie
Be ȝour Iustice and greit Nobilitie.
This ȝoung plant is, ȝour awin vnthriftie Air,
Zow to distroy, he castis him euer mair
Be his cunning growand vp gre be gre.
As did the Imp behind the mekle tre.
And for to caus to cut the branches doun
Quhilkis ar ȝour Lordis nixt ȝour awin persoū
That he may ring and sit into ȝour chyre,
This is his mynd that he dois maist desyre,
Of this mater than quhat sall efter fall
All the folk sall murne, weip, schout and als call
And wary thame that cuttit doun the tre,
Quhair that thay wont to get help and supplie
Or gaue coūsall this ȝoung Imp for to nurische
Bot it distroy, or it bure frute or flurische.
My counsall is thairfoir the Imp cut doun,
Sen ȝit ȝour self ringis in ȝour hie renoun.
And suffer not the ȝoung Imp for to grow,
For he sall do daylie that euer he dow
Zow to distroy, and ȝour body put doun,
And purches not the Maledictioun
Of the pure folk, quhome to ȝe war saifgaird,
Thairfoir in haist tak ȝour sone furth of waird
And but delay, on Gallous gar him hing,
Ze doing this, ȝe do lyke ane wise King.
The Empreour said, Madame now be the rude
Zour counsall is, baith hailsum, wise and gude
The morne he sall go to the deid maist vylde,
Howbeit he be my onlie gottin Chylde.
The morne become, he callit his Lordis all
Togidder past vnto the Iustice hall
The Empreour him self sat in Iudgement.
On pannall put his Sone Incontinent.
And sa at schort he was condampnit to deid,
To be hangit, on Gallous but remeid.
With mortall sound than passand him beforne
Of trumpet, schawme, & als of blawing horne.
As the vse was quhen ony man suld die,
Suld be conuoyit with siclyke menstralie.
And as he past doun throw the greit Cietie,
The pepill murnit, sayand it was pietie,
The onlie Sone of the Empreour to hang
Mony murnit, mony thair hands wrang.
In meane sesoun as he past doun the streit,
His first Maister Pantillas culd him meit.
The Maister saw he was to Gallous led,
With speid of Spurris, to the Palice him sped.
To quhome the Childe sa sone as he him saw,
Doun with his heid than he Inclynit law.
As he wald said, Maister gif ȝe be kinde,
Now in my neid, I pray haue of me minde.
For I am now, without ȝe get mercie
Condampnit heir, on Gallous for to die.
Ze may weill wit than he na tary maid,
Bot in all haist vnto the Palice raid,
Zit not the les vnto the Ministeris,
Prouestis, Sergands, Iewillours and Officers
He maid requeist, that thay suld haist nathing,
For he beleuit to get grace fra the King.
To saue his lyfe, he sall not die this day,
Than war thay glaid, to ȝow the suith I say.
All in ane voce the pepill bad him haist,
Sa without baid he raid as he war chaist.
At the Palice he lichtit of his hors,
Quha suld him dicht, he tuke bot lytill force.
Of the Empreour belyue he gat presence,
To quhome he gaue on kneis greit reuerence,
As him effeirit, to quhome the Empreour said
War not I will ȝour reuerence not degraid,
Ze and the rest richt sair suld puneist be,
For ȝour rewaird, ȝe serue na mair of me.
He said my Lord and pleis ȝour Nobill grace
Thā I haue spent richt Ill my seuin ȝeiris space
Taking laubouris on ȝour sone day and nicht,
In gude doctrine him teichand as I micht.
Zit our laubouris at all we nocht regaird,
Bot beleuit weill to get better rewaird.
The empreour said, thow leis Doctour but dout
First vnto the, sine to the rest about,
My onlie Sone weill speikand haill and feir
I delyuerit, now ȝe haue brocht him heir
With na maners, bot doytit, daft and dum,
And mair attour to schaw the all and sum
Thocht he be dum, sic thing mon cum on chance
Be Goddis will or his gude Ordinance.
Bot by all this, he purposit quhilk was wors
My awin Lady, on maistres to defors.
And all hir face with hir riche Ornament,
In greit malice he hes all reuin and rent.
Thairfoir this day he sall not faill to die,
And efter him thow and thy companie.
The Maister said, with wordis mylde and meik
As for ȝour Sone ȝe say that can not speik.
The Lord of all that mater weill he knawis,
As ȝe sall knaw he is not dum but caus.
I traist in God the suith ȝow for to say,
Ane thousand him sall heir speik on ane day.
As for ȝour wyfe, my Lord quhair ȝe allege
Quhair that he wald, haue done to hir outrage
On treuth my Lord I sall schaw ȝow but weir
In companie with vs this mony ȝeir,
As is weill kend, continuallie hes bene
Sic thing of him was neuer hard nor sene.
Thairfoir gude Lord for ȝour greit reuerence
To sic voyde sawis gif not ouir sone credence,
For giue ȝe caus ȝour onlie Sone to die
For the fals wordis of ȝour wyfis vanitie.
On chance it sall far wors to happin ȝow,
Nor to ane Knicht, quhairof I sall tell now,
That for the wordis of his vane wantoun wife,
Gart him bereif his gay Grewhound the life,
Quhilk sauit his sone fra slauchter of the serpēt.
Than said the King tell me furth that Legent.
Pantillas said than to his Souerane
Gif I sa did, than war my Tale in vane.
For or my Tale war all compleit but dout,
Of ȝour ane Sone the life may be put out.
And than my Tale for nathing it war tald,
Bot gif ȝour grace of ȝour greit mercie wald
Reteir ȝour Sone fra the Gallous agane,
Than I wald think my Tale war not in vane.
Thairfoir gif that ȝour Grace plesis to heir,
Ze caus ȝour Sone quhill the morne reteir.
That being done, than on the morne ȝe may
Do ȝour Intent quhen it is fair licht day.
The Empreour than schortlie to conclude,
With heuie minde this talk weill vnderstude,
And causit the Childe for to be callit agane
Vnto the morne in presoun to remane.
Than this Doctour richt plesandlie began
To tell his Tale but aw of ony man.

Moralitas.

Cupidites est radix omnium malorum. Timot. vj.

Ane reproche or reprufe to the Emprice.

Now thow thy tale hes tauld, with thy fals fyrie lippis
Bot not gottin thow wald, licht skirt for all thy skippis
Had I the in my grippis, on the I suld be wrokin
The heit into thy hippis, the salt sey will not slokin.
Thow art ane baird full brokin, ane hiddeous helles hyrd,
Better thow had not spokin, condampnit Deuillis byrd.

The Tale of Pantillas the first Doctour.

Into ane Realme thair wynnit ane vailȝeāt knicht
Of nobill fame, of greit riches & micht
That had ane sone, my Lord now as ȝe haue
To thre Nuresis to foster he him gaue,
The first Nureis to giue him suck and feid,
The nixt him wesche, & keip him clene at neid.
The thrid to bring him vnto sleip and rest,
The Nobill Knicht for his barne thocht it best.
This Knicht also he had ane gay Grewhound
That nane mair swyft, did rin upon the groūd
Also he had ane Falcon fair of flicht,
Richt swyft of wing quhen scho likit to licht.
Thir twa the Knicht lufit abone measure,
Becaus oft times they did him greit pleasure.
This Grewhound was sa swift and of sic speid
Quhen he was lousit, his pray he gart ay bleid
And the same pray brocht to his Lord anone,
This was ane caus he lufit him allone.
Also quhen that this Knicht past to battell,
Gif that his chance that time wald not preuaill
Into his mouth his hors taill wald he tak,
About his luggis, oft times he wald it schaik.
Syne ȝoull and cry, as he wald quyte rin wode
Sa be that Signe, the Knicht weill vnderstude
Gif at that time he wald furder or no,
And sa oft times leit him to battell go.
His halk also was sa feirce in hir flicht,
Sa swyft of wing, and als sa wonder wicht
That scho was neuer cast of till assay,
Bot without fault scho brukit ay hir pray.
Thir war causis this Hound and Halk he lufit,
Becaus to myrth thay rasit him oft and mufit.
Also this Knicht kest all his haill Intent
In hors rinning, Iusting and Tornament.
Sa on ane day he causit to proclame
At his Castell, to set fordwart his Name
Quha wald cum thair to Tornay or Iusting,
Breiking of speiris, and als of hors rynning,
At the set day, to be matchit suld not faill,
This was the cry, and sa to schort my Taill,
The Knicht him self first enterit in the feild
To the tornay, with harnes hors and scheild.
Sine efter him past his fair Lady gent
With hir Ladyis, to se the Tornament.
Sine efter that, past all the Nuresis thre
The Tornament for to behald and se.
Lokking the dures, leuing the barne alone,
Traisting Ischie nor entrie suld be none:
Quhill the Tornay, and Iusting suld be done
Than in all haist, thay suld returne richt sone,
Beleuand weill the barne not to awalk,
Nane being thair, bot the Hound and the Halk,
And the ȝoung Chylde, that in the Creddill lay
Except thir thre, the rest all past away.
That na man knew, lay lurking in the haw
Ane greit Serpent, befoir na man did knaw.
Quhen scho persauit the hous sa desolait,
And nane thairin that durst with hir debait.
Out of hir hole sone scho put furth hir heid
At this Infant hauand ane cruell feid.
Quha lay sleiping in the Creddill alone,
Him to deuoir, at schort sa is scho gone.
The Falcon this behalding quhair scho sat,
Vpon her Perk, to do scho wist not quhat,
Bot with hir wingis, scho russillit & rang hir bellis
Almaist scho had al schakin yame in schellis
Sa with the noyis & beir quhilk maid the Halk
This gud hound rais, and of his sleip did walk
And quhen he saw that the Serpent did creip
Towart the Creddill, quhair that the barne did sleip
With ane fell faird on the Serpent he ran
And sa at schort thir twa to fecht began,
Sa cruellie, that it was greit meruaill
Quhilk of the twa at that time suld preuaill.
Ane to deuoir, the vther to defend
Thir twa at lenth togidder did contend.
Sa lang at lenth thir twa togidder faucht,
Amaist the hoūd al quyte had loist his maucht,
Sa cruellie he was woundit in blude,
That all about quhair that the Creddill stude,
Was blude berun, that meruell was to se,
Betuix sic twa sa bauld bargane to be.
The Grewhound than persauing his awin blude
Into his hart wor sa cruell and wode,
With ane fell faird vpon the Serpent ran.
Sa thame betuix ane new bargane began.
With sic malice, melancolie and Ire,
Quhil ane was deid, yat nane of yame wald tire
Nor leif the feild, quhill it chancit at the last,
Betuix thame twa, the Creddill ouir thay cast.
With boddum vp, and on the Toris it stude,
Quhair it was all about berun with blude.
Sa it become, and fell be Goddis grace
That the four Toris sauit the Childis face.
And sleipit still with visage toward the ground
Thir twa fechtand, the Serpent and the hound
Quhill at the last the hound into certane,
This fell Serpent he hes ouircum and slane.
And sauit the Childe fra perrell in that tide,
Quhen all was done, doun be the Creddill side,
Licking his woundis lay doun this nobil hoūd
For fechting sair, and sa on sleip fell sound.
Besyde this Bab, quhilk in the Creddill lay,
Nane in the hous, bot onlie thir same tway.
The Bab sleiping, and wist na kind of Ill,
The hound werie, and fochin furth his fill.
The Serpent slane, as I said ȝow befoir,
The Babie saif, and the hound woundit soir.
And so anone efter this tornament
Ilk man woman vnto thair ludgeing went.
To tell that day quha wan the Interpryse,
That erand now to my mater not lyis.
Thairfoir as now that thing I wil lat be,
And lat vs speik of the Nuresis thre.
Quha first come hame and enterit in the haw,
Sa sone as thay the blude and creddill saw.
Wringing thair handis and ryfing doun thair hair
Crying allace wo on vs euer mair.
Our onlie Childe our Bab and fosterbarne
Is quyte deuoirit, with ane Dog and forfarne.
Allace for wo, allace quhat sall we do,
We ken na place for succour to rin to.
Giue our Maister perchance vs apprehend,
Thair is nane may fra his handis vs defend.
Bot alway sall on vs cum suddand deid,
We knaw na way quhair we may find remeid,
Sen sa is cum lat vs in haist all thre
To saue our life, but baid away to fle.
Euin sa thay did, and left the hous alone,
But mair counsall all thre away is gone.
And had na wit nor wisdome in thair heid
To se quhidder the barne was quick or deid,
Nor lift the Creddill, and to persaue the cace,
Bot ran away all thre crying allace.
And as thay war sa passand furth the streit,
Thair awin Maistres thay chancit for to meit
With hir Ladyis cumming fra the Tornay,
Scho persauing hir Nuresis in the way,
Richt sair murning, and ryfing doun thair hair
All wo begane, repleit of sturt and cair.
Sone scho Inquirit at yame how stude the cace
Thay answerit hir a thousand times allace.
Quhat sall we say for wordis to multiplie
Thair is na bute all man the case may se.
Ane Deuill Madame into ane Doggis skin
Hes slane ȝour Sone, alone ȝour hall within.
To the quhilk Dog my Lord gaue maist delite,
Bot now he hes of ȝour Sone maid ȝow quite.
In takin ȝit quhair that the Creddill stude,
The Dog sleipis still new bathit in his blude.
He was the Dog that my Lord lufit best,
He was na Dog, bot with ane Deuill possest,
Thairfoir Lady, for vs is na remeid,
Bot outher fle, or ells to bide the deid.
Thairfoir Madame of vs ȝe haue mercie,
This is the caus that causis vs to fle.
This scho heiring, anone fell to the ground,
Without mair space into ane deidlie sound.
And ȝit at last Ladyis gart hir awalk,
Held vp hir heid, quhill scho began to talk,
And said allace, my deir Sone art thow slane.
Sall thow neuer play on my kne agane?
Sall I neuer with my Pap se the play?
Allace how sone art thow sa went away.
Sall I neuer the lauchand on me se?
Allace how is the dolour chancit me?
Quhairin I had my onlie maist plesour,
Saifand my Lord, baith be tide time and hour
Is now but dout, with ane Dog clene deuorit,
And neuer agane to the life be restorit.
Quhat sall I say, this is ane cairfull cace.
My onlie Sone is deid and gane allace,
Sa scho murning in greit dolour and wo,
The pepill about, that seing did richt so.
Murnit richt sair, and of hir had pietie,
In sic dolour, that Lady for to se.
In the meane time the Knicht fra his Tornay,
Reteirit hame, and sa saw be the way
His awin Lady, lamenting in dolour,
Requirit the caus of all hir displesour.
Scho sayis my Lord, allace and euer mair
I can not speik for greit dolour and cair,
Is happinnit vs ane wonder cruell cace,
Our Sone is slane, for euer mair allace
With ȝour Grewhoūd quhome yt sa weill ȝe lufit
Now all that lufe on ȝour Sone he hes prufit.
He hes him slane, in Creddill quhair he lay,
Zour Nuresis all thre ar fled away.
And ȝit the place quhair that the Creddill stude
Zour hound lyis sleiping in ȝour Sonnis blude
This ȝour Grewhound withouttin helpis ma
Our onlie Childe all quite hes tane vs fra.
Quhairfoir my self vnto the hour I die
Sall neuer eit, quhill I reuengit be
Vpon ȝour hound, quhilk hes my ane sone slane
Nor in ȝour bed sall neuer cum agane,
Quhill he be deid that gart my ane Sone die,
Bot wo allace, this is na mendis to me.
Howbeit it be ane syithment to my hart,
Zit my greit wo it slokins in sum part.
Thairfoir my Lord, gif ȝe think it be done,
Without delay, gar sla ȝour Grewhound sone.
The Knicht heiring thir sorrowfull tidance
How to his Sone had fallin sic mischance.
Hamewart in haist but baid he maid him boun
And in the clois quhen he was lichtit doun
The Grewhound hard horsmen into the clois,
Amang the laif he knew his Maisteris voce,
And vp he rais in the blude quhair he lay
To his Maister the hie gait come his way,
Faynt and foirfocht, come fawnand to his feit
As he had wont, his Maister for to meit.
Into greit Ire, quhat is thair mair to say,
With his scharp sword, he claif his heid in tway
And that onlie for ane word of his wife
Gat his rewaird, that sauit his Sonnis life.
Than past the knicht but baid vnto the haw,
Persauit the blude, and als the Creddill saw.
He liftit vp the Creddill as it stude.
Fand the barne haill, and als mekill spilt blude
Persuand sine of the Serpent the heid,
The skin and taill, that had fochin to deid.
And fand his Sone withouttin wan or wound
Allace he said for my gude gay grew hound,
That I haue slane withouttin ony caus,
Bot onlie for the voide vane wordis and sawis
Of ane woman, that hes talkit in vane
Quhairthrow I haue, but caus my Grewhoūd slane
Quhilk I persaue hes sauit my sonnis life
Fra the Serpent, throw his debait and strife.
Wo to the hour that now I drew my sword,
Wo to the hour that hard my wifis word.
Wo to the hand that suddand straik that gaue,
To my best hound, that my sonnis life did saue
Quhilk I lude best, without ony compair,
Saifing my wife, my onlie Sone and Air.
Quhilk at this time hes sauit fra the deid,
And for rewaird, now he has loist his heid.
But dout I wald haue geuin a thousand pound
Of gude money, or I had slane my hound.
Bot sen sa is I se is na remeid,
My Sone is saif, and my gude hound is deid,
That faucht for him, and onlie sauit his life,
And I him slew throw ane word of my wife,
Bot fra thine furth heir I solempne ane vow,
That Ilk man sall gif credence to and trow.
Heir I forsaik all Tornay and Iusting,
Heir I forsaik all Halking and Hunting.
Heir I forsaik rynning with scheild and speir,
Heir I forsaik all faitis of men of weir,
In Cristindome, bot ȝit not manlynes,
Heir I forsaik all armour and harnes.
For I will pas now to the Halie land,
And fecht with Iowis, quhill I may strike or stand
Contrair Gods fais, & thairto end my life
This vowit yis Knicht for ane word of his wife
That vnto hir gaue sic haistie credence,
Withouttin caus or ȝit Experience.
Thairfoir my Lord ȝour gude Grace I require,
Gif not sa sone credence to the desire
Of ȝour Emprice, thocht scho be diligent,
Aganis ȝour Sone greit lesingis to Inuent.
For ȝe may weill be this same Tale persaue
Quhat the Knicht gat that sa sone credence gaue
Vnto his wife, and to hir wordis vane,
That sauit his Sone yt same hound hes he slane
Thairfoir gude Schir, & pleis ȝour nobill grace
I wald ȝe gaue na credence in this cace
Vnto ȝour Quene, to put ȝour Sone to deid,
For ȝe will rew quhen thair is na remeid.
As did this Knicht, his Nobill hound that slew
Remeid bypast, than he began to rew.
My Lord he said, haue ye betane this Taill,
The Empreour said, that I haue done but faill
For that gude Taill that ȝe haue tauld to me,
As for this day, my Sone he sall not die.
The Doctour said gif that ȝe do sic thing
Ze do wiselie, and like ane Nobill King.
Thankand ȝour Grace, that onlie for my saik
Zour Sonnis deid, onlie ȝe haue done slaik.
And sa tuke leif at the gude Empreour
To his marrowis past hame with all plesour.

Moralitas.

Ane laude and praise to the Doctour that put of the perrell of the first day be his Tale telling to the Empreour.

O Pantillas with thy sweit suggurit toung,
Quhilk in greit Realmes and Kinrikis hes bene roung,
And now at lait to this gude Empreour
Quhilk sweit sentence thow hes baith said and soung
And fra all dout and danger doun hes doung
The Empreouris greit and ringand feirce furour
Quhairthrow thow hes procurit sum succour
Vnto the Chylde, on Gallous suld bene houng
Had not thow bene, God thank the gude doctour.

The secund Tale of the Emprice.

The Declaratioun of this Tale.

This michtie Bair betakinnis zour persoun,
Throw quhais greit micht, wit wisdome and renoun,
This haill Impyre ze gyde and als defendis
And punishes quhat persoun that offendis.
This Hyrd I may to zour Sone weill compair.
That zow wald sla, as this Hird did the Bair.
With his cunning dois claw zow on the wame,
Quhill that ze sleip, and syne put zow to schame.
Or ellis zow slay, outher be day or nicht,
This zour Sone dois be his Science and slicht,
That he may bruke baith zour Impyre and Croun
He cairis nathing quhat cum to zour persoun.
Euin as his Maisteris with thair fals fenzeit sawis
Dois zow ay glois, as all the warld weill knawis
Thairfoir my Lord as ze will haue weilfair,
Remember weill on the Scheiphyrd and Bair,
Than said the King, God forbid that sa be
That chancit the Bair, that sic thing chance not me.
Bot not the les, Madame for zour gude Taill,
My Sone the morne salbe hangit but faill.
My Lord (said scho) gif ze compleit that thing
Than sall ze do lyke ane wyse Nobill King.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche to the Emprice.

The Tale of the secund Maister.

In ane Cietie thair was ane Ancient Knicht
That had maryit ane Lady fair and bricht,
As ȝe haue ane, my Lord to ȝour plesour
And held hir vp in all eis and honour.
Lufit hir sa weill, abone all eirdly thing,
Sic as ȝe do your Quene my Souerane King.
He lude hir sa, he culd not eit nor drink
But hir presence, sa on hir ay did think.
And als at euin quhen all folk to bed past,
The ȝettis and dures siclike he lokkit fast,
And all the keyis vnder his heid thay lay,
Euerilk nicht quhill morne that it was day.
And at ilk morne quhen he thocht time to rise,
Oppinnit the dures him self as was the gise.
In that Cietie was ane custome and Law,
Cryit oppinlie, that Ilk persoun micht knaw.
At ane set hour ane Bell was roung at nicht,
That all micht heir, and vnderstand full richt,
And thairefter withouttin mair delay
The watche was set to walk quhill it was day.
Sine efter that, gif thay culd ony meit
Gangand allone, or walkand on the streit.
Sone thay war tane, and vnto presoun led,
Quhill on the morne that all men rais fra bed,
Thay war fast bound to ane stock or ane tre,
To thair greit schame, that all the toun micht se
Sine efter that, Induring thair lifetime
Thay war repute as giltie of ane crime,
And haldin furth fra all gude companie,
This was the Law that time of this Cietie.
This foirsaid Knicht quhairof I spak of air,
Was growin in age, ane auld man and ane hair
His rampand rage of ȝouth he had compleit,
And had slokinnit of bedsolace the sweit.
Howbeit he lude his Lady weill aneuch.
Zit as ȝe ken, mair graith pertenis the pleuch.
And scho persauit of sic craft he did faill
Scho tuke in heid ane vther to assaill,
And sa scho did, ane man of tender age
In lustis bour for to win vassalage,
Quha had ane quyet Chalmer in the toun,
Sa euerie nicht efter this Knicht lay doun,
Vnder his heid the key scho staill away,
To hir ȝoung lufe scho went quhair that he lay
And sa scho did, als oft as euer scho list,
Tuke furth the keyis that hir husband not wist
And quhen scho come fra hir tryst and hir trane,
Scho laid the keyis vnder his heid agane.
So it befell vpon ane wynter nicht
Ane walking come vpon this Elderin Knicht
He culd not sleip, ȝit walking as he lay,
He turnit about, and mist his wife away,
Vpon hir Name he cryit ofter nor thrise,
Scho answerit not, than he begouth to rise,
Socht all the hous be na way culd hir find.
And wist not weill gif scho was out or in.
Socht his bed heid quhair that the keyis lay,
Quhat wald ȝe mair thay war all tane away,
Past to the ȝettis, all oppin he thame fand,
But mair auise he closit thame fra hand,
In ane windo that oppinnit vp to the gait
Mekill of the nicht thair sat he at the wait,
And quhen it was about the thrid Cok craw
Makand hir hame, his awin wife he saw,
Quha fand the ȝettis vpon hir lokkit fast,
Ze may weill wit that scho was than agast.
Neuer the les becaus the ȝettis was lokkit,
For to win in peirtlie thairat scho knokkit.
Than said the Knicht, O thow woman vnclene
Thinkis thow honour on streit now to be sene?
O wickit wife, and wofull waryit wicht,
Quhy hes thow now dissauit thy awin Knicht
Of quhom thow knew all hail thow had ye hart
Of thy bawdrie now I am weill expart.
For this is not the first time thow hes done
Sic harlatrie, thow sall rew be ȝone Mone.
Quhill the watche cum thair still ȝe sall remane
And as Law will, thairefter thoill the pane.
Than said the wife, my Lord quhy say ȝe sa,
Quhair I was now, thair was witnes far ma.
My motheris Mayd scho come and fetchit me,
Quhilk lyis richt seik, and is in point to die.
And than becaus I saw ȝow weill on rest,
To wakin ȝow I thocht it not the best.
That gart me steill the keyis fra ȝow away,
I thocht pietie to walkin ȝow as ȝe lay.
For quhy ȝe ken ȝe ar febill and auld
To walkin ȝow of ȝour first sleip ȝe wald
Bene seik the morne, and wonder Ill disposit,
Thairfoir craib not, that ȝour ȝettis was unclosit
And my Mother als is sa wonder seik,
Ane word to me, skarslie scho had to speik.
Anoyntit ellis, and maid hir latter will
And now my self hes haistit me ȝow till.
Thairfoir gude Lord I pray ȝow hartfullie
Tak na suspect, nor think na fault in me.
For I had neuer sic thing in my thocht
Sen the first time to ȝour bed I was brocht,
Nor neuer had sic thing into my hart
Nor neuer sall, quhill deid vs twa depart.
Thairfoir I pray, ȝe lat me not be tane
With the toū watche, heir standing mine alane
For now the hour approches wonder neir.
That the watche rise, & thay will find me heir,
Quhilk is to me ane euerlasting schame,
And als to ȝow it is ane greit defame.
War I gyltie or ȝit committit crime.
I wald witschaif ȝe held me out this time.
Than said the Knicht doubtles ȝe cum not in,
For na prayer of ȝow nor all ȝour kin.
Quhill that the watche betak ȝow in the snair,
Than quhair ȝe war, to thame ȝe mon declair.
Than the wife said, my Lord gif sa ȝe do
In greit defame of vs baith it cummis to,
And all our kin, Alya and our freindis,
And all vther that ather of vs pertenis.
Gif I be heir now with the toun watche found
I rather gif ane hundreth thousand pound.
Quod he Ill wife, and woman far defamit.
Thow hes sa done, yat thyself thow hes schamit
Far better war for thy falt puneist be,
And heir thoill schame, that all mankind may se
Nor for to thoill punischment efter deid,
In birnand hell, quhair thair is na remeid.
Than said the wife my Lord I ȝow require,
In this ane point to fulfill my desire.
Now for his saik that deit vpon the tre,
Thoill not sic schame sa saikles cum to me.
The Knicht answerit vnto his wife agane,
Ill wickit wife thy wordis ar all in vane,
Thow cūmis not in vnto the watches knaw,
And be puneist efter the cours of Law.
Than said the wife I persaue this is done
All for Inuy, and ȝe ar Inoportune.
Than sen sa is, ȝe ar Impatient,
I will ȝow schaw in few wordis my Intent.
My Lord ȝe knaw at this ȝet standis ane well
Quhairin but dout now I sall drowne my sell,
Rather nor I, and all my kin be schamit,
And als ȝour self sall not chaip vndefamit
Thā said the Knicht wald God yat sic had bene
Lang time befoir I saw ȝow with mine Ene.
Sa as thir twa togidder was at talk
The Mone wox dark, and hid was vnder walk
Than said the wife, my Lord and be ȝour will
That I heir bide, the same I mon fulfill.
Or I bide heir, and for to schame my sell
Rather I sall be drownit in this well.
Bot I will do as ane gude Cristin wicht,
Aucht to hir Lord, and to ane Nobill Knicht.
Zit or I die my minde is and Intent
Befoir ȝow heir to mak my Testament.
Heir to the Lord first I bequyth my Saull,
My banis to ly in the Kirk of Sanct Paull,
As for my gudes, had I ten thousand pound.
Ten thousand ky gangand vpon the ground,
Als mony Plewis gangand vpon the land,
Als mony scheip as thairvpon micht stand.
I wald leif all vnto ȝour awin persoun,
Thame to dispone at ȝour awin discretioun.
And gif ȝe pleis ony thing for to deill
Into Almus, for my weill and Saull heill,
That I refer to ȝour awin wit and will,
Quhat euer ȝe pleis, the same for to fulfill.
For weill I wait ȝe will do bot the richt,
I say na mair my sweit husband gudnicht.
As scho that said, in hir armes culd scho tak
Ane mekill stane, and in the well did swak.
That being done, scho come richt preuilie
To the ȝet cheik, and stude thair quietlie.
The Knicht heiring the stane fall in the well,
Beleuit weill it was the Lady sell.
And said allace, my wife is drownit but dout,
Sa in ane fray the Knicht come rinnand out,
And to the well he sped him but mair baid,
The wife that saw, and in at the ȝet scho slaid,
And closit the ȝet richt wonder sure and fast,
To the windo in haist scho culd hir cast.
In the meane time the Knicht stude at the well,
Murning richt sair and saying to him sell.
Wo be the hour that euer I was borne,
My lufit wife allace is now forlorne.
Wo be the hour that euer I closit my ȝet,
Wo be the hour in my windo I set
To spy my wife, quhilk I wait was saikles,
I am the wite now of hir deid doutles.
Allace, allace, now is thair na remeid
Throw wilfulnes of vs baith scho is deid.
The Lady hard, in windo quhair scho lay,
And to the Knicht with sturdie wordis culd say
O ȝe auld fule, that suld be callit ane Knicht.
Quhat do ȝe thair standing this time of nicht,
Out of ȝour bed walking sa wonder lait,
Waitting ȝour hures and harlotis on the gait.
Micht it not serue my body at ȝour will,
Bot ȝe wald pas ȝour auld huredome vntill.
This is nichtlie ȝe vse the same passage,
Ze sall repent richt sair ȝour auld fulage.
The Knicht knawing the voce of his awin wife
He was richt blyith that scho was ȝit on life.
Saying Lady weill is me euer mair,
Louing to God that I may heir ȝow thair.
For I beleuit ȝe had bene in the well,
Quod scho auld fule keip the out of it thy sell.
Thow seruis better for to haue punischement,
For thy baudrie, nor halie gaitis to went.
Quod he Lady lat ȝe sic langage be,
Quhat is the caus ȝe say sic thing to me?
Quhen I lockit the ȝet ȝe sall me trow
I did nathing bot to haue chaissit ȝow.
For in na wise I neuer did Intend
Zow to displeis, or ony way offend.
For quhen I hard the noyis into the well,
Vnto my hart thair straik ane cruell knell,
And in all haist ȝe saw as I come doun
Zow to preserue, that na wayis ȝe sould droun.
Auld dosinnit Carll (quod scho) I heir the lie,
Thow was ouir peirt to Iudge sic thing to me.
Bot I persaue this Prouerb is richt trew,
The Iniust oft the Innocent dois persew.
Thow leis to me, and hes done mony time,
Euer the gilt quhen thow committis the crime,
As thow dois now, that neuer to the faillit,
Bot thy greit slicht as now I haue assailit,
And hes the tane into the sicker snair,
Quhairfoir but doubt for me thow sall stand yair
Quhill watches cum, and with thame to be sene
In times bygane ane auld fule thow hes bene,
That me lichtlyit, thy awin wife and dispisit,
And to thy hures ȝeid oft times disagisit,
And euer hes done, sen first time I the kend,
All thy lifetime in lownrie thow hes spend.
Bot God will not lat sic vnpuneist be,
For mony fault thow hes done oft to me.
For he is Iust, and will haue sic thing schawin
And I sall mak it vnto the pepill knawin.
Thairfoir stād still, thow cūmis not in but dout
Quhill the watches, and al Nichtbouris about
Quhat ane thow art, thay may perfytelie knaw
And thairefter to bide the straik of Law.
Than said the Knicht, Lady I haue meruell
To quhat effect suld ȝe sic to me tell.
Ze knaw richt weill that I am auld and hair,
And in this toun I haue bene euer mair,
And weill I wait quhair my name was proclamit
Vnto this hour for na caus was defamit.
Thairfoir Lady for the gude Lordis Name
Thoill me cum in, and let me not tak schame.
Scho said ald fule thow spēds thy speich in vane
Thair sall thow stand, and thoil of law ye pane
Better it is to thoill heir patientlie,
Nor euer mair in hell condampnit be.
Salomon sayis thre things that God dois hait
Ane pure proud man abone his awin estait.
Sine ane riche man in consuetude to lie,
And ane auld man ane fond fule for to be.
And sa but dout ȝe bruik thir vices thre,
Quhat neid had ȝe sa far to lie on me.
As for riches, ȝe haue riches at will
Quhy suld ȝe than ȝour speiche with falset spill?
As for ane Fule, ȝe are ane wonder couth,
For as ȝe ken the flour of all my ȝouth,
At ȝour plesure ȝe haue had euer mair,
Zit to baudrie ȝe ȝaid baith lait and air
Thairfoir God hes done wonder weill ȝow till
Thocht ȝe contrair baith his command and wil[l]
Hes perseuerit still in ȝour harlatrie,
Zit he will not thairfoir ȝe perischit be,
Bot lent ȝow grace ȝour sinnis heir repent
Thairfoir ȝe mon bide Law and Iudgement.
Than said the Knicht my Lady best belufit,
Howbeit God be contrair ane sinner mufit,
Zit not the les as all sinnaris suld trow,
God of his grace is to vs mercyfow,
Quhat time we will forbeir and als repent,
Than God forgeuis our sinnes Incontinent.
Thairfoir Lady sen sic grace God vs sendis
Now let me in, and I sall mak ane mendis
Than said the wife with voice stout and austeir
Hence the harlot, quhair deil gat we this Freir
Talk quhat thow pleis, bot trewlie yu sall trow
Thow cummis not in, and heir I mak ane vow
And as thay spak thir wordis thame amang,
In the meane time the watches bell thay rang.
Than said the Knicht, gude wife let ly sic things
Heir ȝe not now how that the watche bell rings
Suffer me not for euer to tak schame,
Quhilk is forsuith degrading of my Name.
Quod scho ȝe wait not quhat ȝone ringing menis
To the weilfair of ȝour saull it pertenis.
Thairfoir ȝe man tak all furth pacientlie
For ȝour pennance ȝe mon thoill opinlie
Ane trespassour but dout lang haue ȝe bene
To GOD and me, as sall be hard and sene.
In the meane time thir twasum as thay talkit,
Vp throw the streit the watches come yt walkit.
Sone into handis thay tuik this Nobil Knicht
With greit meruell, how he into the nicht
Vpon the streit durst furth of ludgeing be,
Thay to him said it was na Knichts dewtie:
Considering weill the dout of Law he kend,
He was to bauld the contrair to pretend.
Scho heiring this with a loude voice scho cryit
O my gude freinds, the treuth now ȝe haue spyit
Of that Truikour, and als ane dotit Fule,
That his foule lust on na wayis he culd cule.
Bot vpon hures furth passing on the nicht,
Pans ȝe gif sic pertenis to ane auld Knicht.
That my bodie at plesour had all time,
Consider now gif he committit crime:
With hures all nicht, and cūming in at morne
Bot of sic faultis I haue him oft forborne.
Beleuing ay sic faultis he suld haue mendit,
Bot ȝe may se gif he hes now offendit.
Thairfoir gif ȝe of sic hes correctioun,
Conforme to Law ȝe puneis his persoun.
That sic auld deuillis as he sa lang hes bene
Tak exampill of him befoir thair ene.
For he hes bene to me ane greit tratour,
I wait sic ane ȝit neuer maid natour.
Than the watches tuik him Incontinent
To deip presoun with him in haist thay went.
Quhill day was licht, and efter the Sone rais,
With him the watche vnto the Prouest gais,
Schawing to him the fassoun to the end,
How on the nicht thay did him comprehend:
And how to thame his wife sic plaintis maid,
Incontinent the Prouest but mair baid
To ane piller stude in middis of the streit,
Gart set him vp fast bundin hands and feit,
That all the pepill within that greit Citie
To his greit schame, maid him that all micht se
And sa this Knicht but ony fault defamit,
Was throw his wife sa saikles euer schamit.
The Doctour then said humblie to the King,
And pleis ȝour grace ȝe haue vnderstanding
Quhat I haue said, thempreour said richt weill
Zour Sermone hes sentence sa haue I feill.
The Maister said it sall worse happin ȝow
Nor chācit this Knicht for treuth yis ȝe sal trow
Gif that ȝe do for the wordis of ȝour wife.
Put doun ȝour sone, and reif fra him his life.
The Empreour said that wife was far to blame
That hir husband put to sic oppin schame
And he saikles, the foull Ill hir betide,
Scho was the worst, that ȝit did gang or ride,
And for that Tale that thow hes tauld to me,
This day but dout my Sone he sall not die.
The Maister said, my Lord ȝe doing so
Within few dayis, baith plesure and greit Io
Of ȝour ane Sone, ȝe sall haue Schir but faill,
Sa this Maister quhen he had tauld his Taill,
Thankit the King of his beneuolence,
Sa tuke his leif, and hamewart is gone hence

Moralitas.

Ane louing to the secund Doctour.

God thank thee Doctour for thy dayis wark
Thow hes thee schawin ane Nobill cunning Clark,
The innocent hes succourit throw thy Taill,
Let the Emprice now bluster, bleir and bark
For at this time scho is put by hir mark,
Traisting in God that scho sall not preuaill
Bot zit I wait againe scho sall assaill
The Empreour with sum storie sa stark,
Bot hir vain wordis sall hir nathing auaill.

The thrid Taill of the Emprice.

The declaratioun of the Emprice thrid Taill.

The Emprice said I am richt wonder wo
That of ȝour self and ȝour Sone it be so,
For his sonnis saik this Knicht as I haue tald
Quhen he was pure his lands he left vnsald.
Quhen he wantit he had nane vther schift
For his Sonnis saik than he committit thift.
And that his barnis efter that he was deid
Suld haue na schame he causit strike of his heid
And ȝit his Sone wald not do sic rewaird
To burie his heid in Kirk nor ȝit Kirk-ȝaird:
Nor he wald not nouther be nicht nor day
Doun of the treis his bodie tak away.
In the same sort baith nicht and day ȝe laubour
For to promoue ȝour Sone to greit honour.
Bot day and nicht he settis his Intentioun
Zow for to put to vtter confusion,
And ȝow destroy, is daylie his desire,
That he may ring, and bruik the haill Impire
My counsall is ȝe rather put him doun
Or he fra ȝow get the Impire and Croun.
The Empreour said, sa mot I thriue and the,
Ane gude exampill now ȝe haue schawin to me.
I micht haue tholit efter his Fathers deid,
Zit be sum slicht to caus burie his heid.
Trewlie my Sone he sall na langer chaip,
Vpon the morne be hingit in ane raip.
To officers anone he gaue command
To tak his Sone, and to hang him fra hand.
Doun throw the streit thay led him haistelie,
To the Gallous, but mercie for to die.
And as thay led that ȝoung man throw ye streit
All the pepill began to murne and greit,
Sayand allace the Empreours onlie Childe,
To the Gallous is led thair to be filde.
Allace said thay, quhat is his Fathers minde
To his ane Sone for to be sa vnkinde?
Now this is thryis comdampnit he hes bene
And few can tell quhat dois the mater mene.
Bot all this cūmis be the Quenis fals consait,
That he is led sa oft doun throw the gait.
In the meane time doun the gait is he gone
The thrid Maister come rydand namit Craton
And saw the Childe sa wonder neir the deid,
To his Maister ȝit he Inclynit his heid,
As he wald say, Maister haue minde of me,
Do ȝe not weill, thair is na dome bot die.
The pepill cryit gude Maister haist and ryde,
And for ȝour childe gude help that ȝe prouyde.
Sa in all haist but ony mair delay,
To the Palice he spurrit his gude Palfray.
And quhen he come befoir the Empreour,
He hailsit him with reuerence and honour.
Quha maid answer to the Maister againe,
Thocht ȝe be cum, ȝour veyage is in vaine:
Zour cumming heir sall nathing ȝow auaill
Ar ȝe cum heir to flatter me with ȝour taill?
The Maister said within seuin ȝeiris space
Better rewaird I haue servit at ȝour grace:
Zit I beleue to get better rewaird,
And pleis ȝour grace that my talking be hard.
Rewaird (said he) at my hand serue ȝe nocht,
For the dum boy to me that ȝe haue brocht.
Ze serue all seuin the verie painfull deid,
Ilk ane of ȝow to Gallous for to leid:
For I delyuerit my Sone speikand to ȝow
Quite dū but speiche ȝe seuin hes maid him now
And als he wald haue defoulit my Quene,
Contrair hir will, as is weill hard and sene.
The Maister said, quhair ȝe say he is dum,
Will ȝe suffer bot ane schort time to cum
I find ȝow heir the michtie God to borrow
That he sall speik or the fyft day at morrow
For he that maid the dum man for to speik,
The deif to heir, to helth restoir the seik,
He will restoir ȝour Sone to speik againe:
Within few dayis, and that I say in plaine.
And quhair ȝe say he wald deforcit ȝour Quene,
Gif ony man hes euer hard or sene
Sic conditiounis outher be lait or air
Sen he with vs remanit or maid repair.
That he is gyltie of all that ȝe haue said,
Than I thairfoir to die am wonder glaid.
But Salomon sayis richt weill in his buke,
Quha lykis thairin to reid and for to luke.
Na malice is, nor was, nor ȝit be can,
Abone malice of ane Ill geuin woman.
That sall I preif be ane exampill gude,
That wemen are the Fontaine and the flude,
The verray rute, and speciall Inuentioun
Of all falset, lesings and deceptioun.
And gif ȝe put ȝour Sone now to the deid.
For ȝour wifes wordis, hir falset and hir feid.
It sall chance ȝow, as it did to the man
That slew his Py throw slicht of the woman
Quhilk Bird he lude abone all vther thing,
And ay the treuth it tauld him but lesing.
The Empreour said, I pray the tell me that
Betuix the man, the wife, and the Pyat.
The Maister said, ȝour Sone againe gar caw,
That he thoill not the vtter charge of Law.
Than sall I tell my taill to ȝour plesour,
To ȝour profeit, ȝour weilfair and honour.
The Empreour said Maister for this ane day
He sall not die, cum efter quhat sa may.
The Maister said God thāk ȝour grace againe
Sa he his taill begouth as followis plane.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche or reprufe to the Emprice.

Corruptit cors vnclene, thow springand well of vice,
Thow fikkill feindis Quene, thow perrellous Ill Emprice,
Thow cruell Cocatrice, and kyndlie Cocadrill
For all thy taillis nice, thow sall not get thy will
Fals gyglot gangland gill, thow poysonit spewand spout,
Thy banis brint on ane hill, I think to se but dout.

The Tale of the thrid Maister, of the Burges Pyat.

Vpon a time thair dwelt in ane Cietie,
Ane Nobill man, and a Burges was he:
That had ane bird weill fed vp in a Cage,
Quhilk we a Py do call in our langage.
This bird scho was sa weill leirnit to speik,
That scho culd talk Latine, Hebrew and Greik,
And quhen scho had thir langages perfite,
Hir Maister tuik of hir ane greit delite.
Sa be proces na thing scho hard nor saw
To hir Maister Incontinent wald schaw.
This Burges man he had ane wife richt fair,
As now ȝe haue, wantoun and debonair.
Quhilk ouir all thing he lufit all the best,
Bot be contrair, hir lufe sa was not drest.
Becaus it passit far fra the Burges micht
Hir appetite to compleis day and nicht:
As scho desirit, at hir plesure to haif,
Quhat wald scho thā, bot cheisit ane vther knaif
With hir to play, as scho thocht maist plesour,
Quhome scho best lude, and held him in fauour.
And sa behude hir husband on ane day
to vther tounis in veyage mak Iornay,
For Merchandice to by and for to sell,
For Merchand men at hame ay may not dwell
Bot in this warld to wander, wirk and win,
Quhill of this life that thay depart and twin,
Bot ȝit this wife had not sic thing in minde
To hir plesure hir thocht was all Inclynd.
Sa quhen hir spous furth of the toun was went
Without tary than for hir lufe scho sent,
That thay micht mak gude cheir and mirrines
As the gude wife thocht best scho culd adres.
And sa thay did at thair awin appetyte,
Quhen luifaris meitis of vthers takis delyte.
This saw the Py, on hir Pirk quhair scho sat,
Quhat mirrines that hir husie was at.
And to hir Maister tauld quhen he come hame
And causit hir husie to get outrage and blame.
Sa thame betuix rais up ane bargane stout,
Quhill mony of thair nichtbouris hard about.
The gude wife said, now weill Schir I persaue
Quhat greit fauour and lufe to me ȝe haue.
And said ȝe gif mair traist vnto ȝour Py
Nor vnto me, and mair hir sittis by.
Bot sa lang as ȝour Pyat is on life
It sall not faill bot we sall be at strife.
The Burges said, my Pyat can not lie,
All that scho seis the treuth scho will tell me.
For scho can not be na way nor Ingine,
Ony lesing into hir hart deuine.
And thairfoir I haue mair caus for to trow
All that scho sayis far better than traist ȝow.
Sa day and nicht continuallie thay chide,
Quhill on a day the Burges buskit to ride.
In far countreis to do his Merchandice,
As it effeiris sic men, and is the gise.
Bot als sa sone as he his wayis went,
For hir luifar scho send Incontinent.
To mak hir blyith, greit solace and gude cheir,
Bot on the day he durst neuer cum neir.
For greit sclander of pepill and commoun vois,
All the lang day quhill nicht he held him clois.
As the nicht come, he knokit at the gin,
Scho was reddy thairat, and leit him in.
Scho said ȝe ar richt welcum vnto me,
Ze may cum in, for na man will ȝow se.
He said my lufe, ȝour Pyat sair I feir,
For scho will tell all scho can se or heir.
For scho raisit sic taillis betuix vs ellis
That all the toun to vther plainelie tellis.
Scho said feir not, bot bauldlie enter in
On me I tak baith perrell and the sin.
Sa he enterit, and tuik na mair in thocht,
And be the hand throw the hall scho him brocht,
And as thir twa throw the hall maid passage
The sillie Py quhair scho sat in hir Cage,
To hir husie scho hard hir luifar say
We sall be blyith, and mak mirrie quhill day,
For ȝe ar scho that I lufe all the best,
Bot I feir sair the Pyat vs molest.
Quod scho feir not, I bid not for to lie ȝow
It is sa mirk the Pyat will not se ȝow.
Than said the Py, howbeit I may not se,
I heir thy voice, for richt weill ken I the.
To my Maister thow dois ane greit Iniure,
For of his wife thow makis a commoun hure.
And his best bed quhilk he beleuis is clene:
Thow defuilȝeis, quhilk is weill kend and sene
Quhilk my maister quhē he cūis hame sal knaw
And the trew treuth swyithlie I sall him schaw.
Than said hir lufe, my hart tauld I ȝow not
That we wald baith be spyit be the Pyot.
And tell the treuth of baith scho hard and saw,
And euerie word mak hir Maister to knaw.
Tak ȝe na feir thairof than said the wife,
Zone talking sall perchance coist hir the life.
And this same nicht I sall reuengeit be
Vpon the Py, as ȝe sall heir and se.
Sa thay to bed past baith withouttin feir,
Bot quhat become the Pyat ȝe sall heir.
About midnicht vp this gude wife scho rais,
Cryit on hir Mayd, & put on baith thair clais,
Incontinent ane lang ledder thay gat,
And to the rufe of the hous thay it sat.
And tyruit the hous abone the Pyats Cage,
Quhair yt fireflauchts & raine micht get passage
Blenks of Candill about the Pyats heid,
Maist like fireflauchts wt cauld water yair ȝeid
Small stanis like peis, vpon hir heid thay kest,
Maist like hailstanis, sa this pure Py was drest
Sa all this nicht without ony remeid
Was this Py pynit, almaist vnto the deid.
Sa on the morne away the ȝoung man staw
At ane bak dure, quhair nane him hard nor saw
Sa this Burges come hame within few dayis
And to his Py first he gais to and sayis,
O my best bird, now tell me of thy cheir,
How hes thow fairne sen I departit heir?
My bird (said he) quhat hes thow sene or hard?
Tell me the treuth for thy gudlie rewaird.
Maister (scho said) I sall ȝow trewlie tell,
Quhat that I hard, I saw and quhat befell.
Ze war not past of this toun day and nicht,
Quhē that ȝour wife did to ȝow greit vnricht.
Ane vther man into ȝour bed scho laid
And all that nicht togidder thay twa plaid.
And I them schew yt thay war baith to blame,
That I suld tell to ȝow quhen ȝe come hame.
Maister but dout this is ane treuthfull taill,
Zour wife is not I se for ȝour auaill.
To the nixt point, at me quhair that ȝe speir
How I haue fairne, in quhat sort was my cheir
In ȝour absence surelie I say ȝow richt
Sa greit ane storme as thair was ȝisternicht
Baid I neuer, sen first time I was clekkit,
Nor ȝit my deid sa sair I not suspekkit:
As that same nicht, but dout I say ȝow plaine,
For verray feir of fyreflauchts hale and raine,
All the nicht ouir it ranit sa on me,
That I beleuit but dout drownit to be.
Than said the wife, Schir ȝe beleue ȝour Py,
Now ȝe may knaw quhat kin a woman am I.
Ze may now se, and alswa may persaif,
In times bygaine how that ȝour Py did raif.
Ane fairar nicht was neuer on the plaine
Nor was yt nicht that scho sayis it was raine:
Ane fairar nicht, ane softer and mair cleir
Mair plesand nicht I had not all this ȝeir,
Thairfoir ȝe sall in all times furth to cum,
Gif hir na faith na mair nor scho war dum.
Than this Burges wist not weill quhat to say
Bot to nichtbouris sone past he on his way
And demandit gif sic ane nicht was fair
That his Pyat tholit the cauld and cair.
Thay said nichtbour, I walkit all that nicht,
Mair solatious, mair softer and mair bricht
Mair stabill ane nicht, mair curious and cleir:
Nor was that nicht saw I not this seuin ȝeir.
Vnto his hous this Burges bownit hame,
And thocht richt weill his wife had seruit na blame
The sillie Py he put all in the wite,
And of all faults he thocht his wife was quite.
And said to hir I find ȝow traist and trew
Quhairfoir ȝe sall haue na caus for to rew.
At my nichtbours I haue speirit all about
Euin as ȝe say Ilk ane thay say but dout.
Ane fairar nicht thay said culd not be found,
Nor was that nicht, mair softer and mair sound
And it requyris to vther quha offendis
With all thair hart for to mak thame amendis.
To ȝow thairfoir ane garmound of the new
I promeis ȝow, becaus I find ȝow trew.
Scho said gude Schir sauing ȝour reuerence
Ze said not sa quhen ȝe gaue firme credence
Vnto ȝour Py, quhilk falslie on me leid,
Sayand that I committit sic ane deid:
That neuer was into my minde nor thocht,
Nor in this warld sic thing I neuer wrocht.
With hir lesingis betuix vs scho hes sawin
Ane greit discord, quhilk all about is knawin,
Quhairthrow I am blasphemit and defamit,
Throw all the toun, be ȝour fals Py & schamit,
Quhairfoir na meit nor drink sall do me gude,
Quhill that I se ȝour fals Pyats hart blude,
Than the Burges vnto the Pyat past,
And said fals Py, tell how become this cast:
Vpon my wife sa falslie for to lie,
Causing discord oft times with hir and me.
Is this the thank, the gansell and gude deid,
Thow randers me, sa weill I culd the feid,
With my awin hands, with meits delicait,
Airlie at morne, and als at euin lait.
Throw thy lesings thow hes maid throw the toun
Ane greit sclander, & foull defamatioun.
Quhairto scho gaue na mair consent nor reid.
Nor I my self gaue vnto Goddis deid.
The sillie Py hard hir Maister say so,
Intill hir hart scho was richt wonder wo.
Maister (scho said) God knawis gif that I lie,
Zour self will traist the verray thing ȝe se.
And weill I wait the thing I said to ȝow,
I hard and saw, quhy suld I not that trow.
The Burges said, I heir the loudlie lie,
Kennis yu not weill this taill thow tald to me,
Thair was ane nicht sa troublit in the Air
With storme, fyreflauchts, hale, raine & mekill mair
Of Ill wedder thow had na vther reid,
Bot bydand ay the bitter hour of deid.
Quhilk is richt fals, and neuer a word is trew,
Thairfoir but dout thy falset thow sall rew:
And fra hence furth thow sall na lesingis mak,
Nor of trew taillis thow sall not mak ane crak.
And in speciall betuix me and my wife,
The Law will weill that it coist the thy life.
For the greit leis thow did Inuent and forge,
With this same knife I sall cut out thy gorge.
Sa in greit wraith he tuik hir be the nek,
And with ane knife hir heid he did of snek.
The wife saw that, and scho was wonder glaid
To hir husband with mirrynes scho said:
Now ȝe haue done as ane man of prudence,
Howbeit befoir ȝe gaue ouir greit credence
Vnto ȝour Py, quhilk ay richt falslie leid,
My hart is blyith quhen I se hir bleid.
Now we may leif all our lifetime in rest,
Sen scho is gone, that did vs ay molest.
For scho was ay the verray Instrument
Betuix vs twa, all lesingis did Inuent.
Be blyith said he, that Instrument is hence,
Forsuith to hir I gaue ouir greit credence.
Now I knaw weill all that scho said was fals,
Bot now thairfoir scho hes loist life and hals.
The Burges then blent vp about his bigging
And saw ane hole tyruit in the hous rigging,
And weill persauit ane lytill Ledder stand,
Ane watter tub, with stanis watter and sand,
Quhilk was doun cast vpon the sillie Py,
Than the Burges weill vnderstude quhairby,
The pure Pyat had tauld hir taill richt trew,
All the falset and fassoun than he knew:
How thay had causit the Pyat for to lie,
Throw thair falset and greit subtilitie.
Now of my wife the falset I persaif,
In time bygaine how scho hes plaid the knaif.
Not regarding sin schame nor honestie,
Bot on hir lufe lyand in harlatrie.
Full wo is me how greit ane Fule was I,
For hir falset to slay my sillie Py,
Quhairin I had my plesure and delyte,
Allace, allace, my wife had all the wyte.
Bot in na way my self I can excuse,
That hir counsall sa greitlie I did vse.
Bot in ane part but dout sa I was blindit,
And now the treuth full sickerlie I find it.
Wa worth the time I gaue hir sic credence,
Or till hir taill I gaue sic audience.
Wa worth sic wifes, that ar sa Ill Inclinde,
Euer hauing sic fenȝeit hart and minde.
With dowbill hart full of subtilitie,
I ȝow assure thay ar euill companie.
Becaus my wife hes wrocht me siclike wo,
Heir I gif ouir all mirth, blyithnes and Io.
All Merchandice, houshalding and harbrie,
In time cūming, and Pilgrim I will be,
And markis me heir vnto the halie land.
Becaus I find na faith in woman stand.
Sa this Burges for credence that he gaif
Vnto his wife, left land and all the laif.
The Maister said vnto the Empreour,
Schir haue ȝe tane this taill into fauour:
And quhat it menis, the samin vnderstand,
He said richt weill, Maister I tak on hand.
The Maister said was scho not ane fals wife
With hir lesingis gart reif the Py hir life.
The Empreour said, scho was of falset fow
Hir greit lesingis nor hir life I allow.
Of the pure Py, sairlie I do repent,
That loist hir life for saying verament.
Surelie Maister ane gude taill ȝe haue tald
And for ȝour saik this day I sall gar hald
My Sone vndeid, the morne quhill it be none,
God thank ȝour grace (quod he) that sic hes done
To the Lord God hartlie I ȝow commend,
Sa this Maister with blyithnes hame he wend.

Moralitas.

Ane louing to the thrid Doctour and Maister.

Honovr and praise gude Doctour mot thow haue,
That this ane day the chylde thow hes gart saue
With thy trew Taillis and exempill perfyte
Beleuing weill sa sall do all the laue:
Thocht the Emprice with hir Taillis wald dissaue
The Empreour, all for the Chyldes dispyte,
Bot at the last I wait he will hir quyte
Quhen he and ze the suith weill dois persaue.
Quhair ze find fault thair sall ze lay the wyte

The Fourt Taill of the Emprice.

The declaratioun of the Emprice thrid Taill.

This flowing well, of ȝour Sone is the sing
The seuin springs ar his maisters wt cūning
Quhilk well can not richt sone distroyit be,
Except ȝe first gar the seuin Maisters die.
This being done, the well sa sall ȝe waist,
Gar sla ȝour Sone, of this ȝe gif me traist.
Sa well and springis fra thay distroyit be,
Than ȝe may haue all at tranquillitie.
Zour haill Impyre weill into peice and rest,
Forsuith (quod he) Madame I think that best.
Incontinent than gaue he strait command,
To the Gallous to leid his Sone fra hand.
Doun throw the streit as Officers him led,
Ane Maister come, and at the spurris him sped.
To the Empreour with all gude reuerence,
Quhome to he said, pas swyith fra my presence,
For the gude saind that ȝe haue send to me:
Ze serue all seuin on Gallous for to die.
I send ȝow seuin my Sone richt weill speiking
Now he is dum, and do can na kin thing.
Bot onlie ane, this thing I maist detest,
Be violence my Quene he wald opprest.
Thairfoir rewaird na thing ȝe serue of me,
Bot ȝe all seuin with him sall hangit be.
The Maister said, I seruit ane better thing,
To my rewaird, nor on Gallous to hing.
Quhair ȝour grace sayis, yt now ȝour sone is dū
God knawis the caus, the time is not ȝit cum.
Of his speiking the time will cum at schort,
Thairfoir I pray ȝour grace to tak comfort:
And ȝe sall se the day approche richt neir,
That he sall speik, quhil all this place may heir
As to ȝour Quene, in that point quhair ȝe tell
It is not prouin, nor nouther is gospell.
Nor for the wordis of ane singular persoun,
Without mair prufe, ȝour sone suld not put doū,
And gif ȝe do for the wordis of ȝour wife
But gude knawledge fra ȝour Sone tak ye life.
It sall be war with ȝow I dar weill say,
Nor chancit ane man and his wife on ane day:
Quhilk I sall schaw to ȝow be narratioun,
And preif the same be gude probatioun.
The Empreour said, trow ȝe to do with me
As seuin Maisteris did anis in this Cietie
With thair fals taillis vnto thair natiue King
Nay, nay, not sa, it sall not be sic thing.
The Maister said, the fault of ane or two
Suld not redound to rebuke blame or wo
Of all vthers, for it is richt weill kend
Baith gude and Ill is to the warldis end.
Bot of ane treuth ane thing I sall ȝow schaw,
Put ȝe ȝour Sone to deid for ȝour wifes saw:
It sal ȝow chance as did this hinder ȝeir
Vnto ane Knicht, gif ȝe pleis ȝe sall heir.
The Empreour said I pray ȝow schaw me richt
Quhat thing become, or chancit to that Knicht
The Maister said againe ȝour Sone gar call,
Sa to the deid that he na wayis be thrall.
And keip him still my taill quhill I haue tald
Than ȝour awin will ȝe haue euin as ȝe wald.
Quhen I haue done thā tak ȝour awin plesour,
I will sa do than said the Empreour.
And sa his Sone againe he gart thame caw
As for that day he suld not thoill the Law.
Sa this Maister his exampill began,
And tauld his taill furth like ane cūning man
Bot ȝit his taill farther or we furth set
The Quenis last taill we will not ȝit forȝet.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche to the Emprice for hir last Taill.

O fragill flesche of hell, with flatterie euer fenzeis
Ane Kingdome thow wald quell, thow groūder of gillenzeis
We sall hald in thy renzeis, becaus thow raifis vnrockit,
And check zow into chenzeis, vp be the chaftis chockit,
Ouir lang ze haue vs mockit, bot zit the day will cum
Zour culum salbe knockit, quhen he speikis that is dum.

The Taill of the Fourt Maister.

Vpon a time thair was ane eldering Knicht
Wise and wittie, full of riches and micht.
Had leuit furth mony dayis of his life,
Without children, Lemman or maryit wife.
Diuers times his freindis come him till,
To se gif it was his plesure and will
To tak ane wife, and barnis to furth bring.
Throw thair counsall he grantit to sic thing.
Sa at the last thay gat his wife to be
The Prouestis dochter of all that greit Cietie,
Quhilk was richt riche, weill fauourit and fair
Weill maid at will and was hir Fatheris air.
Fra he hir saw, he was sa tane in lufe,
That he his hart fra hir culd not remufe.
Thocht lufe & fauour betuix them micht be sene
Zit all thair space na barnis was thame betuene
Vnto the Kirk as scho past throw the streit,
With hir Mother scho hapnit for to meit.
Ather vther hailsit with greit blyithnes,
And sa began to talk in mirrines.
The mother said, my dochter tell me how
Ze pleis ȝour spous, or how dois he to ȝow?
Scho said richt Ill, and not with him content,
For he is auld, febill, and Impotent.
Quhen ȝe me staikit vpon sa auld ane stick,
I wald but dout ȝe had me buryit quick:
For or I come with him in naikit bed
to be drownit I had rather be led:
Or ly with swyne, or I lay be his syde,
My flesche it vggis quhen yt I tuitche his hyde
Hald me excusit I pray ȝow hartlie Mother,
For it is force that I mon haue ane vther.
The Mother said my gude douchter and deir,
Heir I the pray sic fulischnes forbeir.
With ȝour Father mony ȝeiris I haue bene,
Sic thing of me was neuer hard nor sene.
Mother scho said, of that na meruell is,
For ȝe twa met in ȝouthheid Ioy and blis.
And sa Ilk ane togidder had solace,
It is not sa with me into this cace.
Or I him gat ȝe ken his strenth was gane,
He lyis as still beside me as ane stane:
For he is waik, auld, cauld, waistit and dry,
And as ȝe ken Mother sa am not I:
Bot in my flouris, of ȝouthheid blumand grene
Compair thairfoir is not vs twa betwene.
Of his bodie I can get na solace,
To me thairfoir it is ane heuie cace.
Scho said douchter gif sic thow hes in minde,
And to fulage thy hart is sa Inclinde.
Tell me thy minde without fenȝeing in breist,
Quhōe will thow lufe (quod scho) mother a preist
The Mother said, gif sic thow wald desire,
I think les sin to lufe ane nobill Squire.
Or ane gay Knicht, nor a Priest to thy lufe,
Scho said Mother, thairin I ȝow reprufe.
Gif that I lude a Knicht or ȝit a Squyre,
Within schort time of my lufe thay wald tyre.
And tell ouir all into thair merines,
And sa me schame, to my greit lichtlynes.
It is not sa ȝe ken with men of Kirk,
For with wisdome and wylines thay wirk
And is als laith thair honestie to tine,
In sic affairis, as I wald to do mine:
And counsall keip als quyetlie vnschamit,
As ȝe or I, with our spous wald be blamit.
Also Kirkmen bene mair kinde to thair lufis,
Than vtheris ar, als weill the prettick prufis.
Scho said dochter heir my gude counsall now
And it sall be ane gude profite for ȝow.
Auld men ȝe ken ar wonder cautelus,
Wylie and fell, and richt outrageus.
In ane maner ȝe sall ȝour husband preif,
Him for to temp, or anger him or greif.
Than gif ȝe chaip but reprufe or smyting,
Lufe quhome ȝe pleis, at ȝour lust and lyking.
The dochter said, sa lang I may not byde,
In all gude haist sum lufe I mon prouyde.
God hes me send sa vnhappie ane weird,
That I can get na solace in this eird.
And ȝe ȝour self Mother asweill ȝe ken
Quhat Ill occurris to want plesure of men
And I rather drink water for ane ȝeir,
Or I sa lang plesure of men forbeir.
The Mother said dochter for my blyssing,
Byde quhill thow preif or temp him wt sū thing
For ȝour blyssing scho said I will do mair
Bot him to preif, I pray ȝow to declair.
In quhat fassoun, or quhat way it may be
Scho said dochter that sall I haistelie.
In ȝour Orchard thair is ane tre that standis,
The maik thairof thay say is in few landis.
In quhilk ȝour spous hes greit lufe and lyking,
Await sum day quhen he gais in hunting.
Caus the same tre Incontinent be cuttit,
And bring it hame or euer ȝour husband wit it.
Thairof mak fyre agane his cūming hame,
Than gif ȝe chaip without reprufe or blame,
At ȝour plesure than ȝe may tak the Preist,
This will ȝe do for ȝour Motheris requeist.
Scho said Mother ȝour counsall I will do
Howbeit in treuth I am richt laith thairto.
Ilk ane hame past vnto thair awin ludgeing,
The Knicht meruellit of his wifes tarying.
Scho said gude Schir as I went west the streit,
With my Mother on chance thair culd I meit.
Scho speirit of me gif ȝe war in glaidnes,
I said euin sa, and than hame did me dres.
Efter denner the King past in hunting,
Bot his gude wife thocht on ane vther thing.
And thocht that hir purpois suld cum to end,
Incontinent for the Gardner scho send.
Quhome to scho said cut down this tender tre,
That I thairof may mak on haistelie:
Ane greit warme fire agane my Lords cūming
He will beliue cum hame from the hunting.
This day is sour, sa wonder schairp and cauld,
And as ȝe knaw he is febill and auld.
Quhen he cūmis hame that he sall not want fire
Thairfoir cut doun and ȝe sall haue ȝour hire.
To quhome he said, saif ȝour plesure Madame,
Cut we this tre but dout we will get blame.
For ȝour husband far better lufis this tre
Ten times ouir, than all the treis heir be,
Bot not the les Madame at ȝour desire
Vther fallin wod I sall get to be fire.
Quhairof my Lord (quod he) will stand content
Nay, nay (said scho) cut doun Incontinent.
He said na way this tre I will destroy,
For it will put my Maister to greit noy.
Scho heiring that, he wald not do command,
The Gardnaris Ax, scho hint into hir hand.
The tender tre scho cuttit at the rute,
That fra thine furth it suld neuer haue frute.
Causit seruandis the samin hame to beir,
Of hir husband thairof taking na feir.
The Knicht at euin fra hunting cūming hame,
Hunting the wylde in Forest with the tame.
His wife him met, and said gude Schir I knaw
Ze ar werie and wonder cauld with aw,
I causit to big ane fire to ȝow thairfoir,
To mak ȝow cherie, and mirrie be the moir.
I thank ȝow dame said he with all my hart,
Get I gude cheir, than ȝe sall haue ȝour part.
Than in he come, and sat doun on ane bink,
Befoir the fire, and cryit for meit and drink.
Quhilk in all haist to him richt sone was brocht
And thairof drāk blyithlie quhil he gude thocht
In the meane time the smell persauit he
Of his ȝoung plant, and best belouit tre.
To him he callis the Gardnair richt sone,
And said mischant, quhat hes thow to me done?
Weill I persaue my plant birne in the fire,
Thairfoir at me thow hes not seruit thy hyre.
He said my Lord, it is trew that ȝe tell,
Nane did that turne bot ȝour awin wife hir sell.
Than said the Knicht I wait that can not be.
That my awin wife wald do sic thing to me,
For weill scho knew that tre I lufit best,
Be twentie fauld nor I did all the rest.
I wait scho wald neuer consent thairtill,
Becaus scho knew that it was not my will.
Scho said gude Lord I cry ȝow heir mercie,
For it was I that cuttit doun the trie.
Knawing richt weill ȝe war werie forgane,
Cauld, waik & tyrit, and gude fire had we nane
And I did it ȝour curage to refresche,
To mak ȝow blyith, and to comfort ȝour flesche
That was the caus I gart this fire on mak,
Onlie for ȝow, and for nane vthers saik.
Quhen the Knicht hard it was the samin tre,
Vnto his wife he said richt angerlie:
O wickit wife how durst ȝe be sa bald,
To cut the tre, that I in na wayis wald
Sene bene cut doun for greit riches and rent,
I mak ane vow ȝe sall it sair repent.
And knawing weill, I lude it all the best,
Ze haue me maid ane fault richt manifest.
Quhen that scho saw hir husband discontent,
Than scho began to weip and als lament.
On fenȝeit sort hir self for to excuse,
At siclike time as wemen oft times dois,
Schir I did it for ȝour vtilitie,
And ȝe it takis agane ouir crabitlie.
For I beleuit to win thairthrow gude deid
And now I get greit magrie to my meid
For it that I do euer for the best
Ane reuin rewaird I get ay reddyest.
I had rather be brint intill ane coill
Nor for gude minde sic outrage for to thoill.
Than scho began to weip and mak murning,
Incontinent the Knicht that persauing,
And sa at schort was mouit with mercie,
And said my Ioy, ȝour murning now lat be.
In time cūming se that ȝe not me mufe
To displesure nor hurt the thing I lufe.
Thairfoir be war, the dayis of ȝour lifetime,
That neuer agane ȝe commit sic a crime.
As for this time heir I forgiue ȝow clene,
Ceis weip na mair, be still and dry ȝour Ene.
Than the nixt day to Kirk scho went agane,
Met hir mother, quhome of scho was richt fane,
Gude morne mother (quod scho) wt hart & breist
Now weill aneuch faith I may lufe the Preist.
And I haue done euin as ȝe counsallit me,
My handis cut doun his best belouit tre,
Sa ȝour counsall I did intill all thing,
Bot fra he saw that I maid sic murning
He chereist me, and hes forgeuin me quyte,
Thairfoir Mother put me not in the wyte
Howbeit I lufe the Preist with all my hart,
For my gude man he keipis me not a part.
The Mother said thocht auld men anis forgeif,
In time cūming efter and ȝe thame greif:
Thay will trewlie pans the nixt fault agane,
And puneis it perchance with dowbill pane.
My counsall is temp him ane vther tyde,
Allace Mother (quod scho) I may not byde.
For I suffer mair pane for ȝone same Preist,
Nor I can schaw or think into my breist.
Aperdone me my sweit Mother thairfoir,
Of ȝour counsall now I will tak no moir.
The Mother said, for the lufe thow suld haue
To me, becaus my Cors did the consaue:
Of my bosum, as ane Bab did the beir,
And for the blyssing of thy Father deir:
In this behalf ȝit temp him anis agane,
Gif ȝe get quyte than I forgiue ȝow plane,
To lufe the Preist, or ony that ȝe pleis,
Scho said that taill to me dois greit diseis,
Fra my plesure for to remaine sa lang,
Forsuith Mother ȝe ar sa far in the wrang.
Neuertheles for my Fatheris blyssing
Zit anis agane I sall giue him temping.
How it sall be, first ȝe mon to me schaw,
All the fassoun I pray ȝow lat me knaw.
Zour husband hes (quod scho) ane litill hound
He will not cois for mony merk and pound,
He lufis sa weill, that nichtlie in his bed,
He makis his couche, and with fine meit is fed
With his awin hands, se ȝe the same hound keil
Befoir his Ene, sa ȝe may wit richt weill
This being done, be ȝe not puneist than,
Go lufe the Preist, or ony vther man
I gif ȝow leif, I sal ȝow neuer blame,
Sa it be not to ȝour greit sin and schame.
Scho said Mother I will ȝour counsall do
At this present, quhat ȝe will charge me to.
For thair is not ane barne I wait leuand,
Sa faine wald keip of my eild the command
Of hir parents, and now withouttin skaith,
I will obtene the blyssing of ȝow baith.
And now Mother remember in ȝour thocht
For ȝour blyssing I did ellis wald I nocht.
And than scho said my sweit Mother adew,
Quhat thocht I haue I pray God gif ȝe knew.
Than come scho hame and put of as scho micht
That langsum day, quhill it come to the nicht.
And sa at euin commandit that hir bed,
With purpour clais and silk suld be ouir spred.
Quhilk the seruandis at hir command hes done
With coistlie clais the bed thay spred it sone.
And quhen the bed was this at reddy maid,
The litill hound thairon hes him doun laid.
As his custome was and conswetude,
Als the gude wife knew weill that he wald dude
And vp scho rais with minde malitious,
With haitrent hart and vult richt venemous.
Be the hind heillis this hound than did scho tak
And all his harnis out on the wall scho straik.
Sayand quhat deuill dois this tyke on our bed,
That is sa riche and all with silks ouirspred.
Quhen the Knicht saw his litil hoūd was slane
Fra crabitnes na way he culd refrane.
Bot till his wife with angrie hart can say,
Wickit woman out of my sicht away:
How culd thow find into thy cruell minde,
To sla the hound that to me was sa kinde?
And ouir all hounds wt my awin hart was lufit
O wickit wife Mahoun thy hart hes mufit,
To do sic thing, and me to Ire Incres,
O curst catiue wo to thy cruelnes.
Scho said gude man haue ȝe not richt weil sene
How this foull tyke with his feit sa vnclene
Vpon our bed hes lyne and fylit the same
Haue ȝe plesure thairof or ony game,
Foull traikit tykis vpon our bed to ly,
Thocht ȝe pleis sa, the same ȝit pleis not I,
To spill our bed that is sa precious,
Couerit with clais sa clene and curious.
With his foull feit cum new furth of the myre,
I rather haue brint the bed and all in fyre.
Than said the Knicht with ane angrie visage,
Knew thow not weill, that I had greit curage
Into ane Leische my hound for to se led,
Ane hunder times, nor lying in my bed.
I rather geuin all my hors quhair thay stand
Or ȝe had tane sic wickit deid in hand.
Than quhen scho saw the Knicht sa discontent,
And in sum part raisit in matalent:
To weip and rair in all haist scho began,
Sayand allace that euer I knew ane man.
For quhen I was into my virgine flouris
I knew nathing of thair schairp winter schouris
For ony tyke in this wise to be schorit,
Quicke in my graue I had rather be smorit.
For all that I for the best dois pretend,
Ze ay alledge that I thairin offend.
Howbeit my minde be euer trew and gude
I get na thank, this schortlie I conclude.
Than this auld knicht persauing the greit cair
Weiping, murning, with reuthfull hart & sair
As he beleuit, he said lat be sic thing,
And at this time ȝe mak na mair murning,
I pardone ȝow, vnder protestatioun
In time cūming ȝe mak na occasioun,
Me for to mufe to anger or to Ire,
For gif ȝe do, at sum time I will tyre.
Ze knaw richt weill ȝe cuttit doun the tre,
And now at schort my hound ȝe haue gart die.
Do not siclike I hartlie ȝow requeir,
For gif ȝe do, na mair I can forbeir
To puneis ȝow, for all that is gane by
To the vtrest remember weill sall I.
Thairfoir be war mak me not discontent
At ȝow na mair, and sa to bed thay went.
Sa on the morne at time vp sone scho rais
With mirrie minde, and put on all hir clais.
Went to the Kirk, and sa hir Mother met
Beleuing weill of hir gude leif to get:
To lufe the Preist, and fyld hir husbandis bed,
Bot as God wald sic thing was na thing sped
Thay hailsit vther as thay thocht best be done,
And in talking togidder thay fell sone.
Scho said Mother ouir lang for ȝour requeist,
I haue the lufe forletit of the Preist.
For now I haue temptit my husband twyis
Hangit be I quhen that I tempt him thryis,
Be ȝour counsall ane greit thing I haue done,
By my consait mony stages abone.
For as ȝe bad I cuttit doun his trie,
And now laitlie I gart his gude hound die.
And baith thir faultis he hes forgeuin me quyte
In time cūming to me ȝe put na wyte.
With all my minde and hart within my breist,
In all gude haist I will ga lufe the Preist.
The Mother said I pray the douchter deir,
With patience twa wordis thow wald me heir
It is weill knawin with ma nor I can tell.
That ay auld men ar sle and cruell,
And will think on vpon faultis done befoir,
Howbeit sum time thay wil not chyde nor schoir
For it is said, and als richt weill I wait,
That crueltie it is appropriat
To eldering Knichtis yt in ȝouth hes bene kene,
Sine in thair eild thay turne to tray and tene.
And for sum fault will puneis with rigour,
As thay in minde it takis in displesour.
Zit my counsall thairfoir I wald thow did,
And thairefter I sall the not forbid:
Lufe quhome thow list, or quhome yu lykis to lufe
Thair is my hand I sall the not reprufe.
Zit temp him anis as we can best deuise.
For it is said that all things thryfis bot thrise.
Scho said Mother I heir ȝow talk in vane
Knew ȝe the thocht and nichtlie burning pane,
That I suffer continuallie in hart,
I wait ȝe wald not tak my contrapart.
Ze ar Mother ane woman as I am,
Quhat wald ȝe say gif ȝe wantit the game
Of my Father, that ȝe richtlie bruik,
For ane new lufe but dout sone ȝe wald luik.
With all ȝour pith the same ȝe wald purches,
And haist the same with all ȝour besines.
Into this cace now put ȝour minde to rest,
To lufe the Preist gude faith I think it best.
Scho said dochter for the greit pane and cure
I had of the, that time quhen I the bure.
And for the fude thairof quhilk that the fed,
I the beseik fyle not thy husbandis bed.
Till the thrid time, I pray the him to prufe,
As thow will haue my blissing and my lufe.
Deny me not this sober small petitioun,
And I promeis to the ane sure conditioun.
I sall furth set and further thy Intent,
To thy plesure, and als Intandement.
And neuer say that thow hes done ane mis,
My sweit dochter I pray the grant me this.
As thow will haue my blissing on thy banis,
My small desire I pray the grant me anis.
The dochter said, Mother I ȝow declair,
The mater is to me sa sad and sair,
That I may not sa lang abstene thairfra,
Zit not the les sa Inwartlie ȝe pra:
For the greit charge first that ȝe say to me,
And sine agane ȝe haue promeist trewlie
Into this cace to further furth my caus,
Gif I had neid the richteous God it knawis
Thairfoir schaw me the maner and the way,
How I sall temp him to the thrid effray.
The Mother said on Sonday nixt cūmand
I knaw richt weill the minde of ȝour husband.
To haue vs all to dine is his Intent,
With mony freindis, that nane be thair absent,
With diuers ma gude men of this Cietie,
Than quhen ȝe ar all at ȝour Maiestie,
With all ȝour meitis weill seruit at the Tabill
At the burde heid to sit ȝe ar richt abill.
Ane key ȝe sall into the buirdclaith knit,
Quhilk at ȝour belt dois hing, not latting wit
That ȝe did sa, bot as it come on chance
Saying furth plane with ane fair countenance,
Ze may persaue sa forȝetfull ane wife,
As I am now I traist be not on life.
In my Chalmer my knife I haue forȝet,
Force I mon rise, the same agane to get.
Than sall ȝe rise with ane faird haistelie,
Na man knawing quhair that ȝe knit ȝour kie.
Sa it being knit into the buirdclaith fast,
Than sall ȝe all the meit and tabill doun cast.
On this fassoun all ȝour meit salbe spilt
With displesure, and all ȝour Naiprie gilt.
Ze doing sa, vnpuneist gif ȝe be,
To lufe the Preist, faith heir I mak ȝow fre.
Scho said for anis ȝour counsall sall I preif,
Bot neuer agane, sa lang as I may leif.
For ȝour counsall I haue done far ouir micht,
And sa ather at vther tuke gude nicht.
Within few dayis the Feist was preparit
Aboundantlie and for na coist thay sparit,
The Father, Mother, and freindis of honestie,
On euerie side war callit thair to be.
The Tabill couerit, and all set doun to dine,
The meitis come, richt delicate with wine.
All being set, as it culd best effeir
The gude wife cryit Ilk man to mak gude cheir
At the buird heid scho sat hir awin self doun,
Hir Mother weill persauit the fassoun.
Quhat hir dochter wald do richt weill scho knew
Beleuing weill the same thing scho wald rew.
Sa the gude wife ane bonie lytill kie
Hang at hir belt scho knit richt quyetlie.
That nane persauit, nor knew hir fals Intent,
Bot this scho said to all the burde present.
Gif I be wise, now ȝe may all persaue,
In my Chalmer my knife forȝet I haue.
Quhilk I mon fetche, & with ane faird vprais,
And with ane tit tuik with hir the buird clais.
The Tabill turnit, and all the meit doun flang
Allace scho said faith now I haue done wrang
I sair repent, that I sa schortlie rais
The meit is spilt, and fylit ar all clais.
The Knicht changeit countenance in his face,
And smylit for scorne that sa occurrit the cace.
And sufferit ouir with blyith dissimulance.
To treit his gaistis with ane gude countenance
And commandit ane new Tabill be set
With new Naiprie, and vther coursis get.
And prayit his gaistis for to be blyith and glaid
Howbeit his Tabill was reckleslie doun laid.
Incontinent fresche meitis was brocht anone,
To new denner with blyithnes ar thay gone.
For all thing done not mufing him nathing,
Nor to his wife ane Ill word not saying.
Making gude cheir to all the companie,
With mirrynes welcūmand thame glaidlie.
Bot the Mother knawing weill the Intent,
Of the dochter, was wonder discontent.
The denner done, thay thankit all the Knicht
And als his wife, & bad thame baith gude nicht
On the nixt morne the Knicht airlie he rais,
In name of God, first to the Kirk he gais.
And efter he had his deuotioun done,
To ane Barbour but tarie past he sone.
Saying Maister ar ȝe gudlie expart,
In blude latting, or Insicht in that Art?
He said gude Schir I am expart trewlie
Of euerie vaine within a mannis bodie,
I knaw richt weill, or ȝit in ane woman,
In drawing blude thairof greit craft I can.
Than said the Knicht thairof I am content,
Cum on with me and ȝe sall haue payment.
Sa the Barbour hame with the Knicht he wēt,
And be the gait he tauld him his Intent.
And sa thay come vnto the Knichtis ludgeing,
Quhair his wife lay, sone thay gat entering.
He said gude dame get vp for ȝe mon rise,
Quod scho gude Schir, forsuith its not the gise
Sa sone to rise, say ȝe that for ane mock?
It is scarce ȝit nyne houris gane of the clock.
Thā said ȝe Knicht dame rise for ȝour awin gude
On baith the armes ȝe mon be lattin blude.
Scho said gude Schir sen my Mother me bair
Blude vpon me was lattin neuer mair.
And now thairof sen I want conswetude,
I haue na will for to be lattin blude.
Than said the Knicht, forsuith ȝe ar the war,
To lat ȝow blude sa long that ȝe defar.
Think ȝe not on quhat faultis ȝe haue maid me
First ȝe hewit doun my Nobill plant and tre.
Quhilk ȝe knew weill that I lude all the best,
And sine ȝe knaw how that my hound ȝe drest.
And ȝisterday ȝour freindis being present,
At the Tabill sa cruellie me schent.
Gif I suffer that ȝe do the fourt wrang,
In conswetude and vse sa ȝe sall gang.
Within schort time ȝe sall me sa constrane,
To vtter schame, that I can noe refrane:
My self fra schame, without I find remeid,
And I find weill sum fault is in ȝour heid:
Of corrupt blude, that mon be lattin out,
And als wilde blude in ȝour bodie but dout.
That fra thine furth ȝe sall na mair beir blame
Nor anger me, nor ȝit put me to schame.
He causit seruandis but ony mair abaid
In the Chalmer ane greit fire to be maid.
Scho seing that scho trowit without remeid
Into that fire for to be brint to deid.
Thā cryit scho loud for Gods saik grant mercie
And I promit ȝow a thing faithfullie.
In all my dayis I sall ȝow neuer greif,
Sa this ane time that ȝe will me releif.
And haue pietie, I grant I did trespas,
Thairfoir gude Schir mercie at ȝow I as.
Than said the Knicht be him that mercie maid
Streich ȝe not furth ȝour arme but mair abaid:
Quhair I intend but of ȝour blude haue part,
I sall haue all the hart blude at ȝour hart.
To the Barbour also he said in plane,
Se that ȝe cut ane greit hoill in the vane.
Or by Sanct George the same thing ȝe sall haue
For ȝour rewaird, that scho suld now ressaue.
The Barbour seeing he gat sa sair ane charge,
He maid ane woūd, that was baith deip & large
On that ane arme, quhill that the blude ran doū
Aboundantlie, and with greit effusioun.
Quhilk for to stanche the Knicht wald nathing thoil
Bot rather bad mak mair larger the hoill
Vnto the time he saw hir change cullour,
That wound to stanche he causit the Barbour
And bad him strike into that vther arme,
Als grit ane woūd, quhairof he thocht na harme.
Scho said husband haue mercie now on me,
I am sa waik, I traist schortlie to die.
Thā said the Knicht ȝe suld haue thocht on this
Anis, twise, thrise, quhen ȝe committit mis.
Quhilk causis me richt sair aganis my will,
Of ȝour wilde blude sa mekill to se spill,
For I sure ȝow he leuis not vpon life,
That wald haue drawin sa muche blude on my wife
Except my self thairto had geuin consent,
But dout that ane of vs suld sair repent.
Bot at this time ȝour awin licht wilfulnes,
Hes causit me on this maner ȝow dres.
For ȝe haue done sic wickit turnis thre,
Quhairfoir but dout that puneist ȝe mon be.
Than the Barbour causit hir lay furth on breid
That vther arme, that he micht caus hir bleid.
And then he straik vpon that vther side
Into hir arme ane wound baith deip and braid
Quhill that the blude aboundantlie ran doun,
That all beleuit that scho suld fall in swoun.
With ane waik voice scho cryit richt pieteouslie
My sweit husband haue mercie now on me.
For I beleue becaus I am ȝour wife
Ze couet not that I suld lois the life.
Than said the Knicht to the Barbour agane
I think it best that now ȝe stanche ȝone vane
Now presentlie, na mair ȝe lat it bleid,
The Barbour said, sa sall I Schir in deid.
That being done, the Knicht he gaue command
To his seruandis, that thay suld sone fra hand
Put hir in bed that scho micht get sum rest,
The Barbour said gude Schir I think that best.
Than bad his wife remember in hir minde,
In time bygane sa Ill scho was Inclinde.
And mis amend, or I hecht be the Rude,
Do ȝe not sa, I sall se ȝour hart blude.
Than the Barbour at this gude eldering knicht
Ressauit his wage, and at him tuik gude nicht.
Than the seruandis in minde thay thocht it best
Thair awin husie to put hir to sum rest.
Sa in hir bed thay happit hir esilie,
Quhen thay beleuit nathing bot hir to die.
Scho being laid sa softlie in hir bed,
Heuie at hart, richt faint and all forbled.
Ane damisell scho bad into all haist,
Fetche hir Mother or scho ȝeildit the Gaist.
Quha in all haist that to hir Mother tald
Zour dochter the spreit scho will vpȝald.
And cum ȝe not, I say to ȝow trewlie,
Scho is sa faint, we trow all scho sall die.
Than the Mother Inquyrit secreitlie
Quhat was the caus of hir Infirmitie.
The damisell to hir the fassoun said,
Quhairof ye Mother was wonder blyith & glaid
That hir dochter sa trimlie was correctit,
Howbeit that scho the samin not suspectit.
Sa on scho come vnto hir dochters place,
To considder the fassoun and the cace.
And als sone as scho hard hir Mother speik,
My sweit Mother (said scho) I ȝow beseik,
To set ȝow doun and rest at my bed heid,
For I beleue na thing bot onlie deid.
Of my bodie so muche blude I haue bled,
That I on force behuifit to tak bed.
Throw verie fault of febilnes of blude,
That of my life I trow to be denude.
The Mother said, my sweit dochter and deir,
Tauld I ȝow not ane word was not in weir:
That ay auld men was schairp bitter and fell,
Richt outrageous, dispitefull and cruell.
Howbeit sum time a fault thay wald ouirse.
Zit at the last thay wald it puneis hie.
My dochter now ane questioun I will speir,
Howbeit ȝe be richt waik now lyand heir.
Tell me the treuth and oppin to me ȝour breist,
In time cūming gif ȝe will lufe the Preist.
Quha said agane, allace Mother lat be,
Ane warldis schame mot tak all Preistis for me
The heich vengeance of the greit God abufe,
Mot quell thame all or I ane of thame lufe.
Bot my husband that is baith deir and sweit,
Thair is na man in warld for me sa meit.
The Mother said, quhy suld ȝe haue dispite
At the pure Preist or giue him ony wite:
For I beleue ȝour minde he neuer knew,
Nor in sic cace he did ȝow not persew.
But weill I knaw quhat thing yt gart ȝow dude,
The wantones and aboundance of blude.
Quhilk I beleue at this time now ȝe want,
For ȝe behude haue sum thing ȝow to dant.
Mother (said scho) I pray ȝow let me rest,
Abone all men my husband I think best.
The Maister said than to the Empreour,
Schir haue ȝe tane this taill weill in ordour:
And considerit thairof the morall sence,
The Empreour said Maister be my conscience
It is the best and wonder lefull taill
That I haue hard this mony ȝeir but faill.
To hir husband scho did schrewde turnis thre,
First scho cuttit his nobill tender tre:
Sine slew his hoūd quhilk was bot a dum beist
And than thridlie misfassonit all the Feist.
Gif he had thoillit the fourt for to bene done,
It suld haue brocht him to confusioun sone.
The Maister said I counsall ȝow heirfoir,
Tent to ȝour wife, gif hir credence no moir.
Sla ȝe ȝour sone (for hir wordis) vnoffendit
Ze sall forthink quhen ȝe can not amend it.
The Empreour said, I say to ȝow trewlie,
My sone this day for ȝour saik sall not die.
The Maister said, I thank ȝour Nobill grace,
That for my saik hes pardonit him sic space.
Sa tuik his leif, as culd him weill effeir,
And sa hamewart to his awin hous culd speir.
Or we proceid now to the Emprice taill
Sum we will talk of the Doctouris but faill.

Moralitas.

Ane praise to the fourt Doctour.

Lavde, honour, praise, and thankis ane hunder fald
To the Doctour for the Taill thow hes tald,
That sauit hes the Chyldis lyfe for ane day,
And quenched hes the Empreouris boist sa bald
In greit malice, quha that but mercie wald
His awin sone slaine, bot thow him causit say nay
Thocht zone quick Feind dois all that euer scho may
To haue him slaine, bot we sall all defy hir
Within few dayis on reid weir we sall cry hir.

The Fyft Taill of the Emprice.

The Emprice heiring ye child ȝit was not deid
Ane new consiat than tuik scho in hir heid,
Throw all the toun gart fle in alkin artis
The carage hors yat wald draw wanis & cartis
And fillit the same with alkin kinde of geir,
Hir Ornamentis and clais that scho suld weir.
Maid hir to pas vnto hir Father hame,
Saying scho wald na langer thoill sic schame.
As scho did daylie that all men micht se,
And thairupon culd not reuengeit be.
Quhairfoir scho wald at hir father seik mendis
Quhome on scho said all hir hope clene dependis
The seruandis sa persauing hir Intent
To the Empreour thay schew Incontinent.
Quha past to hir in haist but mair proces
Inquirit the caus of all sic besines.
Quhair mark ȝe to, or quhidder will ȝe go
Quhat is the caus that ȝe ar muifit so?
Scho sayis I will but ony mair delay,
To my Father the hie gait mak the way.
Quhair I may haue baith solace mirth & game
Bot now I haue the contrair of the same.
Thairfoir I mon persew quhair I may get it,
For at this time ȝe gar me quyte forȝet it.
The Empreour said will ȝe get mair solace
Nor bide with me, I trow into na place.
For I had hope thair was na man on life
Was better lude nor I with his awin wife.
Now I persaue the verray clene contrair,
That bownis away in vther place to fair.
Scho said my Lord, for that caus I depart
For I lufe ȝow with sa perfite ane hart,
That I rather of ȝour deith to heir tell,
Nor be present, and for to se it my sell.
Of ȝour Maisteris ȝe tak far mair delite,
To heir thair taillis all tauld in my despite:
That I am quite put furth of ȝour credence
Ze gif to thame sa Inwart attendance.
Thairfoir it sall chance ȝow or all be gane
Far worse nor did vnto Octauiane,
Quhilk this Impire as ȝe now presentlie
Had for to gyde, and deit in miserie.
He was sa fals, and als sa couetous,
That his subiectis held him as odious.
Thay war constranit for his greit falsitie
To eird him quick for all his dignitie,
Becaus Ilk man sa couetous did him hold,
Thay ȝet his mouth full of het meltit gold.
To quhome (quod he) let not sic thing be said,
That of falset the blame to me be laid.
Scho said but dout the blame lyis all in ȝow,
For day be day all time ȝe gar me trow
Zour Sone suld die, and ȝit he leuand is,
And weill ȝe knaw that he did me greit mis.
Thairfoir beleue that farther mair from hence,
In that behalf I giue ȝow na credence.
The Empreour said it becūmis not ane King,
Without counsall to discus euerie thing.
And in speciall for to giue Iudgement
On my awin sone without gude auisement.
Thairfoir Madame I pray ȝow hartfullie,
That ȝe wald schaw sum gude exampill to me:
Quhairthrow I may my realme with wisdome gyde
And to my self ane esie life prouyde.
Scho said I sall ane storie to ȝow schaw,
Quhairby ȝe may weill and perfitelie knaw
To reule ȝour Realme, and hald ȝour self perfite
Sa ȝe will mak ȝow of the seuin Maisteris quite
Of thair counsall ȝe ar ouir couetous
And of thair taillis ȝe ar ouir desirous.
Zit not the les my taill furth sall I say,
And gif ȝe pleis the sentence beir away.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche to the Emprice.

O cative Quene and cruell, and rute of all mischeif,
O fals flesche faint and fruell, greit grounder of all greif.
Wyld rauins sall ryfe thy beif, wod dogis thy banis sal gnaw
Or euer thow get releif, thy luddis sall thoill the Law.
We sall gar all men knaw, and als perfytelie se
Thy deidis the treuth sall schaw of thy hid harlatrie.

The Taill of the Fyft Maister.

Moralitas.

Ane laude and praise to the Fyft Doctour.

Prvdent, perfyte, expert Philosophour,
Honour and praise be to the ding Doctour
That hes ouirput this day sa perrellous
With thy sweit talk befoir the Empreour
Quha kendillit was in fell fyrie furour
Contrair his Son in mynde malitious,
Be entysing of his wyfe vennemous,
But thow fra him with fair wordis and fauour
Hes purchest grace, quhill tyme mair prosperous.

Inuidia diaboli mors intrauit in orbem. Sapi. 2.

The Sext Taill of the Emprice.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche to the Emprice.

Gomorras graceles gyde, and Sodomes schameles seid,
Thow Beliallis bitrer byrd, baith fals in word and deid
Thy boist thow blawis on breid, sall not saif thee I say,
Thy ers brint in ane gleid, I think to se sum day,
Thow sall not sa away, thow commoun curst Cowclink
Trowis thow to chaip nay, nay, I rather neuer drink.

The Taill of the Sext Maister.

Moralitas.

Ne intenderis malice mulieris quia nouissima illius amara quasi absintheum longe fac ab ea viam tuam quia lingua eius accuta vt gladius biceps. Et pedes eius discendunt in mortem. Prouerb. 5.

Ane praise to the Sext Doctour.

Thy goldin toung with grace sa thow hes gydit,
That to this Chylde zit lyfe thow hes prouydit
Contrair the Quene, a vengeance on hir cors
Bot without dout or sentence be decydit,
I wait the Chylde he will bauldlie abyde it.
For quhy he knawis baith the best and the worse
And gif sa be the Quene mon byde on force.
Zit not the les thow suld haue thankis but dout
Thow gude Maister that keipit thy day about.

The Emprice seuint Taill.

Moralitas.

Ane reproche to the Emprice.

Thow glaikit gallarrand quene, now with thy glorious glois
With thy fals taillis of tene, thow trowis to win the hois.
Nay, nay, not sa my Iois, thairs zit sum graith to find
Ane prick into zour nois, or we haue done behind,
Trow ze to blaw vs blind, thairs vther taillis to tell
Quhen stabilit is all this wind, luik than quha beiris the bell:
The wraik sall on thy sell, baith the sorow and syte,
Thow Proserpine of hell, we cure the not ane myte
For all thy greit dispyte, hid ouir with harlatrie
Full weill we sall the quyte, that all the warld may se.
Thow bysemeir balamie, thy hippis sall thoill het haisteris,
For thow seruis thame trewlie, at the Chylde and his Maisteris.

The Taill of the Seuint Maister is how the man deit becaus he saw his Wyfes fynger bleid.

Vpon a time thair was ane Nobill Knicht,
That had ane wife yt was baith fair & bricht
Quhome he sa lufit, that be na way he micht
Of the haill day ane hour want hir of sicht.
Vpon a time after meit and glaidnes,
For thair pastime thir twa went to the Ches.
And in his hand it happinnit him to haif
His awin byknife, and sa amang the laif
Thairon scho straik hir hand a litill we
Amaist ane drop of blude that ȝe micht se.
Sa sone as he the blude saw of his wife,
Alwayis he said, that scho wald lois hir life.
Befoir thame all, amang thame fell he doun,
For verray wo into ane deidlie swoun.
Incontinent than scho began to cast
Vpon his face cauld water wonder fast.
Than he ouircome within ane litill space,
The cald watter thay wap sa in his face.
The Minister he gart call of the toun.
And prayit him to heir his Confessioun.
For weill he knew without ony remeid,
Thair was nathing at him bot onlie deid.
For na seiknes, nor for nane vther deid
Bot onlie saw his wifes finger bleid.
The Minister exhortit him anone,
And sone efter to deith this Knicht is gone.
For quhome thair was greit sturt & beuailling,
Amang the rest his wife maid maist murning.
The Buriall with greit solempnitie,
Was maid and done in best maner micht be.
Than this Lady scho maid ane solempne vow,
To leif ay still as dois the Trytill Dow.
All hir life time to leif in Chastitie,
And neuer to knaw ony mannis companie:
Bot ay ly still abone hir husbandis graue,
And neuer mair warldlie comfort to haue.
Bot euer murne vnto the day scho die,
In the same graue quhill that scho buryit be.
Hir freindis say nay, that was not all the best,
Sen it pleisit God hir husband was at rest:
Bad hir pas hame, and cast hir to defend
Hir hous & barnis, to murne wald nathing mēd
Giue to the pure, and let the deid hyne ga,
We think it best (quod thay) that ȝe do sa.
We sall ȝow do all comfort that we can,
Sine efterwart to cheis ȝow ane new man.
Cast ȝow to mirth, and let ȝour murning be,
For naturall is, that all men anis mon die.
Scho said counsall of ȝow nane will I haue,
For I sall die widow abone this graue.
Can ȝe not all considder for my sake,
Sic sair seiknes, and doly deith did take
For ane small drop he saw my finger bleid,
Suld I not than baith into word and deid
On my persoun sum pennance for to take,
The cruell deith that sufferit for my sake.
Thairfoir gude freinds let put ȝour minde to rest
For in this graue salbe my ludge and rest
Quhill God sinder my saull and life in tway,
Thairfoir my freinds fra me pas hame away.
Than hir neir freinds heiring hir vtter minde,
Thocht in sū part thay wald with hir Inclinde
Becaus scho was in sturt and greit dolour,
Thay wald sum way cast thame to hir plesour.
And saw scho wald do nathing bot hir will,
Thairfoir thay thocht the same for to fulfill.
And causit to big euin at the graues syde,
Ane proper ludge quhairin that scho micht byde
And furneis hir all necessaris thairto,
In all effairis, or quhat scho had ado.
Beleuing weill scho wald change hir Intent,
And efterwart to wirk with freinds consent.
Thinking richt weill yt scho na way wald wāt
Sicht of pepill, bot scho thairto wald hant.
Sa thay hir left into hir quiet Caif,
Murning richt sair abone hir husbandis graif.
Thair was a Law than maid in the Cietie,
Gif ony man was condampnit to die
On the Gallous, for trespas and vnricht,
Than the Schiref suld walk him all that nicht
In his harnes, the morne quhill it war day,
Sa that the theif suld not be stollin away.
And gif sa war, the Schiref to tine his land,
And als his life to be in the Kings hand.
In this meane time it happinnit that thair was
Ane man hangit for his thift and trespas.
Than the Schiref behude that nicht on force
All in armour to walk that hangit cors,
And sa he did, howbeit the nicht was cald,
Quhair he watchit thair was na hous nor hald
It chancit that nicht to be baith wind and rane
That in na sort thairout he micht remane:
For verray cauld, he stude of life sic dout,
And sa belyue he blenkit him about:
In the Kirkȝaird beside the Knichtis graue,
Ane litill licht the Schiref can persaue,
Fra the windo quhair that the Wedow lay,
Hidder he gais in all the haist he may.
At the ludge dure he knokit quietlie,
And sone scho spak, and speirit quha may that be.
This time of nicht to walkin ane pure Wedow
All wobegane, in hart richt sorrofow.
He said I am the Schiref of this toun,
For verray cauld I am in point of swoun:
Except ȝe let me in mair haistelie,
For verray cauld doutles I trow to die.
Gif ȝe cum in (quod scho) I feir richt sair
That ȝe sall eik my anguische mair and mair.
Quhilk war neidles schir gif ȝe knew my thocht
Quod he Lady, forsuith that sall I nocht.
I promeis ȝow nouther in word nor deid
Zow for to craib, thairfoir haue ȝe na dreid.
Than vp scho rais, and belyue leit him in,
For verray cauld he cheuerit at the chin.
And doun he sat, and warmit him at the fire,
Quhilk for to do was greitlie his desire.
Fra he was warmit and restit thair ane space,
Graithlie he blent into the Wedowis face.
Quod he Lady to displeis ȝow na way,
Ane word with leif I wald vnto ȝow say.
Scho said gude schir say on quhat euer ȝe pleis
For ȝour sayingis sall do me na diseis.
He said Lady I meruell of ȝour minde.
To this vane wark that ȝe suld ȝow Inclinde,
Considdering ȝe ar ane fair Ladie,
Fresche in ȝour flouris, ȝoūg plesand and lustie,
It war mair meit, and better be ten fald,
For to pas hame and keip ȝour awin houshald.
Nor heir to byde, and ȝour self to destroy,
Daylie in sturt, in murning and in noy.
My counsall is pas hame to ȝour awin hous,
Giue to the pure, and gar deill greit Almous.
Quod scho gude schir, gif I ȝour wordis had knawin
Or yt ȝe suld sic sayings to me schawin
Ze suld not had into this hous entrie,
Becaus ȝe talk of sic purpois to me.
I say to ȝow as I said of befoir,
To all my freindis, and I wald ȝe no moir
Spak of sic thingis, thay sink not in my heid,
Knaw ȝe not weill my husband sufferit deid:
For ane small drop he saw my finger bleid,
Than think ȝe not that I suld do sum deid.
For him agane, and tak sum small pennance,
That micht me caus of him haue remembrance
Thairfoir I sall him lufe on sic ane wise,
That I mon lufe the eird quhair that he lyis.
And for his saik sic pennance tak on me,
That quhair he lyis abone him sall I die.
Than the Schiref tuik leif and vp he rais,
The neirest gait vnto the Gallous gais.
And quhen he come the theif that he left thair,
Was stollin away, quhairof he maid greit cair.
And said oft times, quhat haue I done allace,
Heir is to me becum ane cairfull cace.
My gudis, my geir, and also all my land
My life siclike is in the Kingis hand.
Sa he wandring in sturt baith to and fro
And wist not quhat to do for verray wo.
Sa at the last he thocht that he wald pas
To the Lady, befoir quhair that he was.
Becaus scho was sa deuoit in hir sell,
He trowit of hir to haue sum gude counsell.
Than come he on as had bene the first Cok,
And at the dure quietlie did he knok.
Quod scho quha is that, that sa sone callis now
I the Schiref is cum agane to ȝow.
I haue ane sturt and anger at mine hart,
And I wald schaw thairof to ȝow sum part.
Thairfoir hartlie I pray ȝow let me in,
I sall ȝow schaw the mater mair and min.
Howbeit it was to hir sum prettie pane,
Zit vp scho rais and leit him in agane.
Than he began the cace all for to tell,
Quod he Lady I come to haue counsell
Of ȝow, becaus I wait richt weill ȝe knaw,
Quhen ony man is hangit be the Law,
My office is to keip him nicht and day,
To that effect he be not stollin away.
And gif he be, my life and all my landis
Without remeid, is in the Kingis handis.
It is sa chancit quhen I was heir richt now
In the same time quhen I talkit with ȝow,
The theif quhilk I suld haue walkit quhill day
Sum subtell handis hes stollin him quite away
Quhairthrow I will Incur the Kingis feid,
Lois all my landis, and also tine my heid.
Or ellis on force furth of the Realme to fle
Quhilk is but dout ane heuie cace to me.
Beseiking ȝow ȝour counsall giue me to
Into this cace quhat ȝe think best to do.
Quod scho gude Schir for ȝow my hart is wo.
That sic ane chance suld happin vpon ȝow so.
Bot sen ȝe haue maid ȝour first mane to me.
I mon ȝow help, defend and als supplie.
Sa wald kindnes, courtasie and ressoun,
Of ane wo hart for to haue compassioun.
Quod he Lady I lippin on ȝow na les,
Bot for to haue ȝour counsall and kindnes.
Becaus ȝe ar in greit estimatioun,
In wit, wisdome, and als in deuotioun.
And I beleue to haue ȝour counsall now
For all my caus clene I commit to ȝow.
For it is said sen first the warld began,
Thair is greit help into ane gude woman.
This Lady than was mufit with mercie,
And on this Knicht hir hart had greit pietie,
and said gude Schir ȝour sturt it mufis me,
Bot tak gude hart, and ȝe sall helpit be.
Do my counsall, and schortlie to conclude
Ze sall nouther lois ȝour life landis nor gude.
He said Lady that erand brocht me heir,
To saue my life, my landis, my gudis and geir
Quod scho Schir will ȝe promeis faithfullie,
Quhen I haue done, that ȝe will Mary me:
I will do all that I haue to ȝow said:
Quod he Lady of that I wald be glaid.
Wald God in heuin to me ȝe wald sa do,
That I micht be ȝour persoun fallowis to,
Considdering I am bot ane pure Knicht
And ȝe ane Lady of greit blude and of micht.
Wald ȝe disdane to humbill ȝour minde to me,
I suld ȝow serue with all humilitie.
Sa baith thair mindes and all thair hail Intēt
Was weill aggreit, quhairof thay stude content
Gude schir scho said, ȝe knaw richt weil I wait
How my husband was buryit of the lait,
Quha lufit me sa wonder weill in deid:
That for ane drop he saw my finger bleid:
He tuik in hart sic sturt and displesour
Of doly deith he sufferit the scharp schour.
Ga tak him vp for to be ȝour releif,
And hang him vp quhair hangit was the theif
The Schiref said fair Lady be the Rude
Zour counsall is substantious and gude.
Than past thay baith bauldlie wt mane & micht
Furth of the graue that drew yt new deid knicht
The Schiref said ȝit ane thing feiris me,
The theif quhilk I gart hing vpon the tre,
Twa of his teith abone was strikkin out,
Thairfoir I stand into ane dreidfull dout:
Gif ony man the samin suld persaue,
That this deid Cors his ouir teith dois haue,
It war my deith, and callit greit dissait,
Thairfoir to do, heirof not weill I wait.
Scho said ȝour self may richt weill that remeid
I giue ȝow leif, strike thre out of his heid.
Quod he Lady to that I war richt laith,
For of Knichtheid it is aganis the aith.
Outher ȝoldin or deid man for to strike,
It wald greitlie baith faith and fame Infek,
And als quhen he was leuand heir on life,
Except onlie my barnis and weddit wife:
I lude him best of ony man leuand,
Thairfoir in him I can not put my hand.
Gif ȝe will not now ding thame out said scho
Faith for ȝour lufe that same thing I will do.
Sa with ane stane twa of his teith out dang.
Sine bad the Schiref hing him quhair the theif hang.
The schiref said ȝit I feir a greit thing,
The theif quhilk I on the Gallous gart hing
Ane hiddeous wound he gat in his foirheid
At his taking, thay had at him sic feid.
And baith his luggis thay stowit quite him fra
And ȝour husband be he not euin richt sa
It suld be my destructioun haistelie,
In this mater I pray ȝow counsall me.
Amang the rest (quod scho) thats bot ane bourd
Can not ȝour self peirtlie draw out ȝour sword,
On the foirheid strike him as best effeiris,
Quhen that is done, than cut of baith his eiris.
Quod he Lady fra that God me defend,
Considdering vnto his lifes end
I lude sa weill, and had in companie,
In that behalf I pray ȝow pardoun me.
And of befoir I did to ȝow declair
Of clene Knichtheid the aith it is contrair.
Giue me the sword (quod scho) and for ȝour lufe
That same to do now peirtlie sall I prufe.
Scho tuik the sword, and to the man was deid
Ane cruell straik scho gaue him in the heid:
With the same sword into hir greit dispite
Of baith his luggis belyue scho maid him quite
Sine said gude schir now ȝe may without tary
But ony feir him to the Gallous cary.
And hing him vp quhair the theif hang befoir,
Sa ar ȝe quite of danger, sturt and schoir.
Thā said the schiref ȝit ane thing restis in thocht
Thairof quhill now remembrance had I nocht
Howbeit the theif was haill in bowk and banis
Zit weill I wait he wantit baith his stanis.
And be that kend, all is for nocht thats done
Quod scho in faith the stanis he sall want sone.
And with ane knife the stanis scho tuik him fra
And said gude Schir now to the treis him ta.
He cūmeris vs for to byde sa lang heir,
Quod he my self alone dow not him beir.
Quod scho in faith for that it sall not stop
Tak ȝe the taill and I sall tak the top.
For sen he come furth of his Sepulture
I haue him maid ane laithlie creature.
To the Gallous thir twa him tuik but moir,
And hang him vp quhair the theif hang befoir.
Than was the schiref of the Kingis dāger quite
Be the greit help of this Lady sa quhite.
Than said scho schir, now wonder weil ȝe knaw
How that ȝe war be ordour of the Law,
Baith life and landis in danger for to tine,
And now I haue brocht all to ane gude fine:
Be my counsall and onlie for ȝour lufe,
For ȝour plesure and als for ȝour behufe.
Quhairfoir sen ȝe in all maters hes sped,
Now I desire agane ȝe wald me wed.
Conforme to ȝour conditioun and promis,
Quhilk in na sort I wait ȝe will not mis.
He said Lady, forsuith I maid ane vow,
That I suld not Mary woman bot ȝow:
Sa lang as ȝe war leuand vpon life,
Bot wo to him that hes the to his wife.
Thow schameles schrew, and maist wickit of all
Tenefull tyger a vengeance on the fall.
Ane Nobill Knicht thow had to thy husband,
And for ane drop of blude furth of thy hand
He had sic lufe and Inwart fauour to the,
For sturt thairof at schort causit him to die.
Thow in na way all his lufe regarding,
His forder teith trewlie thow did out ding.
In his foirheid ane fell wound did thow strike,
Cuttit his luggis, and als his stanis siclike.
Quhen I think on this vgsum vilanie,
God me preserue that I not Mary the.
And for that caus I find the sa cruell,
To him alone that lufit the so well.
In time cūming thow can na better be,
To ony man that wald lay lufe on the.
Thairfoir I sall, that thow sall schame na ma
In time cūming, my awin handis sall the sla.
And sa at schort he put hir thair to deid
He drew his sword and quite straik of hir heid.
The Maister said than to the Empreour,
Schir I require gif it be ȝour plesour:
Gif that ȝe haue the wordis of this taill tane
The Empreour said ȝe Maister euerie ane.
Scho was ane wife the worst and maist cruell
That I befoir of ony ȝit hard tell.
The Scherif als rewardit hir the thing,
That scho deseruit, to hir deidis according.
Zit gude Maister hartlie I ȝow beseik,
That I may anis my Sone blyithlie heir speik
For that wald mak sic blyithnes to my hart,
Fra that time furth I cair not to depart.
He said my Lord and pleis ȝour Maiestie,
That thing the morne ȝe sall baith heir and se:
At ȝour plesure, as ȝour self dois desire,
In audience befoir the haill Impire.
And sall knaw weill the caus of vnkind[n]es
Betuix vs seuin, ȝour sone and ȝour Empres.
The Empreour said gif that thing cūmis to pas
Than ȝour rewaird salbe quhat ȝe will as.
He said my Lord all is at ȝour plesour,
Sa tuik his leif than fra the Empreour.

Moralitas.

Ane praise to the Seuint Maister.

Thow hes put of Doctour ane doutsum day,
The seuint and last quhairin maist perrell lay.
And sauit the Chylde vnto the morne quhill none
Now in Goddis name let him cum on away
To the Emprice, gif he hes ocht to say.
To say it out, I think it war weill done
For scho hes bene to him Inoportune,
In his contrair scho hes done that scho may
To gar him mis baith Denner and Disione.

Ane Exclamatioun to the Chylde.

Now sen thow speikis on hir thow wreik it weill
Gif thow hes caus, thy self thow hes sum feill.
Thank hir na mair, than thow had hangit bene,
Gif thow hes hap now hit hir on the heill
And spair hir nocht, thocht scho war stif as steill
For scho hes bene to the richt wonder kene,
Quhilk in na sort pertenit to ane Quene
On sic ane wise a ȝoung Clerk to gar keill
Quha wrocht neuer to hir ȝit tray nor tene.

How Dioclesiane on the Emprice complenit,
And him excusit of all maters scho menit.

Eftir Tytan had tane his staf in hand
And lichtlie lap as Lord out ouir the land
Becaus the day was baith sweit soft and fair,
Than vp I rais, and past to my Librair.
And studyit thair, a quhyle as I thocht gude
Becaus it was my vse and conswetude.
And sa efter my lessoun was compleit,
Than to refresche, I recreat my spreit.
As for that tyme I laid on syde my buke,
And in my hand ane vther Volume tuke,
Of lychter dyte, and storyis of the ald,
That seir auld men befoir in tymes had tald
In quhilk Volume diuers storeis ouir kest,
That plesand was, bot ȝit amang the rest
Ane fyne fabill in that volume I fand,
Quhilk at this tyme to our purpois may stand.
This was the Mairch of the mater in deid,
As ȝe sall heir this Tale and I proceid.
How the Emprice was condampnit to deid.
With hir Luifer, but mercie or remeid.
Than Dioclesiane said to the Empreour
Father this Tale I tald to ȝour plesour,
Quhilk I beleue richt weill ȝe vnderstand.
Ze euerie word (quod he) Sone I warrand,
It is ane taill to be notit I say,
Not ane better I hard this mony day.
Than said the Sone and pleis ȝour Maiestie,
Howbeit that God hes geuin sic grace to me:
Of wit, wisdome, and vther greit Cunning,
Of diuers thingis hes lent vnderstanding.
Zit this suld not na way minische ȝour micht.
Nor ȝour honour, ȝour Maiestie and hicht.
Bot rather suld the same eik and augment,
Be richt, ressoun, and equall Iudgement.
Sa in likewise the Kingis gre and estait,
Quhilk was be God onlie predestinait.
Send be the bird, to sing that he micht heir,
Quhilk in that cace was Goddis Messingeir
For had not bene God gaue that bird sic grace,
The sonnis honour, and all his dignitie,
Tuik na honour fra the Father ȝe se
Nor to his Mother it did na hinderance
Bot rather was thair honouris to auance.
For as ȝe hard thay war honourit alwayis,
Into his Realme, during thair life and dayis
Than said agane to him the Empreour,
I persaue weill the sonnis greit honour:
Can na way pair the Fathers micht and gloir
Bot rather ay to mak it moir and moir.
Thairfoir I will the haill Impire resing
Into ȝour handis, and ȝe thairof be King.
And gyde the same, and haue the reule and steir
For I am auld, dow not sic burding beir.
Bot rather wald be set at rest and eis,
And ȝe the Realme to gyde as ȝe best pleis.
For I dow not Indure sic besines,
Be ressoun of my eild and febilnes.
Than said the sone sauing ȝour graces will,
To that sentence na way grant will I till.
Bot ȝe sall ay haue the Authoritie,
During ȝour life, euer mair abone me,
To charge, command, to bid, and for to do,
In all effairis, that euer pertenis ȝow to.
All besines that ar laborius,
Actis and erandis, welthie and ponderus.
Alwayis I will accept thame vpon me,
Zow for to serue, as is my greit dewtie.
And euer sall, the samin nicht and day,
To ȝour plesure, in sa far as I may.
The Empreour than commandit his Iustice,
In Iudgement sit, and do furth his office.
And the Emprice in presence to gar bring,
With hir Rebald cled in wemens clething
Quhilk nixt hir self he causit for to stand,
Than hir Ladeis in ordour at the nixt hand.
Than Dioclesiane to the Empreour said,
Father ȝour Quene ȝour honour hes degraid.
Ouir all the warld ȝe ar greit Empreour,
And it pertenis to ȝour grace and honour:
To do Iustice to all the same desyris,
For the same thing ȝour Maiestie requyris
Asweill to pure, as to the riche alway,
Equall Iustice ȝe suld minister ay.
Now I desire that ȝe giue richt sentence,
On the vntreuth, falset and greit offence
Done and alledgeit be the Emprice falslie,
Be counsall of hir lufe in contrair me.
Be quhais fals meanis seuin times furth I was led,
To the Gallous to leif my life in wed.
And daylie stude in greit perrell of life,
And all this come throw falset of ȝour wife.
Als to ȝour grace vnfaithfull scho hes bene
Of hir bodie, not gydand like ane Quene.
Quhilk is weill prouin into ȝour awin presence
Be manlie signes, and perfite euidence.
Vpon the quhilks I ask and als desyris,
Iustice and richt, euin as the caus requyris.
To ȝour Iustice I wald ȝe gaue command,
To giue sentence but dilatouris fra hand.
Quhen the Emprice hard this sair petitioun,
Vpon the eird than fell scho flatlingis doun.
At the Empreour askit grace and mercie.
Bot in na sort sic thing thair culd not be,
According to the Law he bad proceid,
And giue sentence conforme vnto hir deid.
And bad pans weill to quhōe the deid was done
Be quhome, quhē, quhair, and how lang or how sone
And thairefter to mak the punischement,
As pleisit the Iudge to gif furth his Iudgemēt,
Than said the Iudge na way I can hir clenge
For hir awin deid hir self it dois reuenge.
The perfite prufe of hir Rebald and knaif,
Thame self baith fylis, as all man may persaif
And than the fault it is leis Maiestie,
Done in contrair the Crownis dignitie.
Into sa far as scho defoulit his bed,
And his ane sone to Gallous gart be led.
Thairfoir I giue in oppin audience,
And pronouncis now for extreme sentence,
That the Emprice be bound to ane hors taill,
Throw all the streitis of the Cietie hir traill,
Quhill scho cum to the place brint for to be,
For hir prepairit, that euerie man may se,
And thair with schame and lak to end hir life,
In remembrance scho was ane Empreours wife
And als we giue on hir Rebald sentence,
For his knaifrie, and his peruerst offence:
Contrair the Croun, merciles to be marterit,
On the Rattis reuin, hāgit, drawin & quarterit
And sine his flesche furth cassin to the tykis,
To be deuorit with doggis vnder dykis,
And with the foulis that fleis in the Air,
The doggis leuingis to tak vp to thair skair.
In memorie that he durst sic presume,
In contemptioun the greit Empreour of Rome.
This schairp sentence we pronounce oppinlie,
To all pepill and dois it ratifie.
Makis the same knawin to all man patent,
Asweill absent, as thay that ar present.
Sa war thay baith conforme to thair offence.
Done and demanit, according to sentence.
Geuin and pronoūcit than be that awful Iuge
Quhairfra remeid thay had nane nor refuge.
Bot suffer deith with euerlasting schame,
And ay to bruik of greit harlattis the name.
As worthie was, for quhy continuall sin,
With Indurit hart, euer to ly thairin:
But feir of God or ony repentence,
Causit thame suffer sic doly sad sentence.
Howbeit that man sic baudrie did not knaw,
Zit God in heuin richt weill it hard and saw.
For all thing is to his Ene ay patent,
Thairfoir he fand ane subtell Instrument,
To mak sic thing to mannis sicht be kend,
This ȝe may se of this Emprice the end.
Praying greit God of vs to haue mercie,
And hir forgiue, Amen sa mot it be.

Ane declaratioun to the Emprice after hir deid.

O faithles febill fule, ô helie het hoillit hure,
O poysonit paddokis pule, ô mischant mad Monsture
Curst catiue creature, ô Sathans seid all schent,
That euer zit wrocht nature, or zit to lyfe was lent.
Quhair was thy wisdome went, quhen sic fulische thow fand,
Thy lust thow may lament, that euer tuik sic on hand.
Thow hes loist lyfe and land, and all thy Royall rout,
Thy stait na way culd stand, it was sa stinkand stout
Vpon the all cryis out, fy, fy, for verray schame,
All wemens seid dois schout, vpon thy filthie name:
Ay waryit be the wame, that brocht the in this lyfe
Euer to bruik sic blame, wa worth the wickit wyfe:
Rutit in sturt and stryfe, thy bow was euer bendit
Thairfoir but sword or knyfe, thy lyfe now thow hes endit
Sa greitly thow offendit, vnto ane Innocent,
That thow wald neuer mend it, into this lyfe present.
Thow wald neuer repent, bot wrocht wrang with Iniures,
Now with schame thow art schent, heid patroun to all hures
Ay quhill this warld Indures, euer to bruik that name,
With all quick Creatures, with sclander lak and schame.

Frons meretricis non erubescit
Nec in ea voluptas nunquam senescit.

Now our Emprice hes sufferit deid and gane
Thairfoir as now we will let hir alane
With hir harlot, quhais dayis thay haue ill spēdit
Ane Ill entrie for commoun is Ill endit.
As weill appeirit in deid betuix thame tway,
Of thame as now na farther I will say.
Bot in all haist ga finische furth our buik,
Becaus the same to do we vndertuik.
Thairfoir as now mair time we will not spend
Bot schaw at schort of the gude Empreours end
Within few dayis efter this besines.
The Empreour he tuik ane sair seiknes:
As plesit God, and payit his naturall det,
As the time come, and as the terme was set.
Dioclesiane than tuik the steir on hand,
And Empreour was of that countrie and land
Reulit the Impire with wisdome and prudence
Held his Maisteris in daylie reuerence.
Be quhais counsall, wisdome and desire,
He gydit weill his Kingdome and Impire.
That he precellit all his predecessouris,
In riches, wisdome, Iustice and honouris.
Of his liegis sic lufe still he conqueist,
That ouir all thing in eird thay lude him best.
His Maisters als thay lude him ouir all thing,
With all seruice, as thair trew Lord and King.
Into sa far, thame self in Ieopardie
Thay put oft times to saue his honestie,
And sa endit thair dayis in greit honour,
In Ioy and mirth, and to the greit plesour
Of God alone, to quhome all honour be,
Laude, praise, Impire, triumphe and dignitie.
Kingdome, Renoun, and Ioy perpetuall,
Louing and lufe, obedience ouir all.
Helth and vertew, and euerlasting gloir,
Into all warldis, baith now and euer moir.
Be to that Lord with all humilitie,
And to distill ane drop of his mercie
On vs sinners, his gloir that we may se it
To his plesure, say euerie man so be it.

Ane schort schawing quhair and quhen, and at quhais requeist this buik was translatit out of prois in Scottis Meter.

The Author sayis to the Buik.

IN haist ga hy the to sum hoill,
And hyde the, be not callit ane buik
Ga cowme the ouir all clene with coill
Sone smeir the ouir with smiddie smuik,
Or scour pottis to sum creischie Cuik:
Or in sum kitching turne the speit:
Amang Ladeis thow dar not luik
For thay will on the with thair feit,
For men of gude thow art not meit
Thay will the hald of small auaill,
Quhat restis thair than bot ȝald thy Spreit:
Or to tryit Tinklaris tell thy taill.
Thy roustie ryme amang thame raill
For honest folk few will set by the,
And I sweir by the Rude of Craill
Tuitching my part heir I deny the:
My counsall is, that thow gar cry the
Amang Cowclinkis and commoun hures,
All gude wemen thay may defy the
Of all thy crakis thay tak na cures:
But fond Fillokis up in the Mures
Quha first ȝow reddis, Sym Skynnar hang thame
Se on thame thow wirk all Iniures,
Pas on and fend thy self amang thame.