University of Virginia Library

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.