Ajax his speech to the Grecian Knabbs, From Ovid's Metam. Lib. XIII Attempted in broad Buchans. To which are added, Journal to Portsmouth, And a Shop-Bill, In the same Dialect. With a Key. By Robert Forbes, Gent |
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 | Ajax his speech to the Grecian Knabbs, From Ovid's Metam. Lib. XIII |  |
3
AJAX's Speech TO THE GRECIAN KNABBS.
The wight an' doughty Captains a'
Upo their doups sat down;
A rangel o' the common fouk
In bourachs a' stood roun.
Upo their doups sat down;
A rangel o' the common fouk
In bourachs a' stood roun.
Ajax bangs up, fase targe was shught
In seven fald o' hide;
An' bein bouden'd up wi' wraith,
Wi' atry face he ey'd
In seven fald o' hide;
An' bein bouden'd up wi' wraith,
Wi' atry face he ey'd
4
The Trojan shore, an' a' the barks
That tedder'd fast did ly
Alang the coast; an' raxing out
His gardies, loud did cry:
That tedder'd fast did ly
Alang the coast; an' raxing out
His gardies, loud did cry:
O Jove! The cause we here do plead,
An' unco great's the staik;
Bat sall that sleeth Ulysses now
Be said to be my maik?
An' unco great's the staik;
Bat sall that sleeth Ulysses now
Be said to be my maik?
Ye ken right well, fan Hector try'd
Thir barks to burn an' scowder,
He took to speed o' fit, because
He cou'd na' bide the ewder.
Thir barks to burn an' scowder,
He took to speed o' fit, because
He cou'd na' bide the ewder.
5
Bat I, like birky, stood the brunt,
An' slocken'd out that gleed,
Wi' muckle virr, an' syne I gar'd
The limmers tak the speed.
An' slocken'd out that gleed,
Wi' muckle virr, an' syne I gar'd
The limmers tak the speed.
'Tis better than, the cause we try
Wi' the wind o' our wame,
Than for to come in hanny grips
At sik a driry time.
Wi' the wind o' our wame,
Than for to come in hanny grips
At sik a driry time.
At threeps I am na' sae perquire,
Nor auld-farren as he,
Bat at banes-brakin, it's well ken[illeg.],
He has na' maughts like me.
Nor auld-farren as he,
Bat at banes-brakin, it's well ken[illeg.],
He has na' maughts like me.
6
For as far as I him excel
In toulzies fierce an' strong,
As far in chaft-taak he exceeds
Me, wi' his sleeked tongue.
In toulzies fierce an' strong,
As far in chaft-taak he exceeds
Me, wi' his sleeked tongue.
My proticks an' my doughty deeds,
O Greeks! I need na' tell,
For ther's nane here bat kens them well:
Lat him tell his himsel:
O Greeks! I need na' tell,
For ther's nane here bat kens them well:
Lat him tell his himsel:
Which ay war done at glomin time,
Or dead hour o' the night,
An' deil ane kens except himsel;
For nae man saw the sight.
Or dead hour o' the night,
An' deil ane kens except himsel;
For nae man saw the sight.
7
The staik indeed is unco great,
I will confess alway,
Bat, name Ulysses to it anes,
The worth quite dwines away.
I will confess alway,
Bat, name Ulysses to it anes,
The worth quite dwines away.
Great as it is, I need na' voust;
I'm seer I hae nae neef
To get fat cou'd be ettl'd at,
By sik a mensless thief.
I'm seer I hae nae neef
To get fat cou'd be ettl'd at,
By sik a mensless thief.
Yet routh o' honour he has got,
Ev'n tho he gets the glaik,
[illeg.]an he's sae crous, that he wou'd try
To be brave Ajax' maik.
Ev'n tho he gets the glaik,
[illeg.]an he's sae crous, that he wou'd try
To be brave Ajax' maik.
8
But gin my wightness doubted war,
I wat my gentle bleed,
As being sin to Telamon,
Right sickerly does plead:
I wat my gentle bleed,
As being sin to Telamon,
Right sickerly does plead:
Fa, under doughty Hercules,
Great Troy's walls down hurl'd,
An' in a tight Thessalian bark
To Colchos' harbour swirl'd.
Great Troy's walls down hurl'd,
An' in a tight Thessalian bark
To Colchos' harbour swirl'd.
An' Æacus my gutcher was,
Fa now in hell sits jidge,
Fare a fun-stane does Sisyphus
Down to the yerd sair gnidge.
Fa now in hell sits jidge,
Fare a fun-stane does Sisyphus
Down to the yerd sair gnidge.
9
Great Jove himsel owns Æacus
To be his ain dear boy,
An' syne, without a' doubt, I am
The neist chiel to his oye.
To be his ain dear boy,
An' syne, without a' doubt, I am
The neist chiel to his oye.
Bat thus in counting o' my etion
I need na' mak sik din,
For it's well kent Achilles was
My father's brither sin:
I need na' mak sik din,
For it's well kent Achilles was
My father's brither sin:
An' as we're cousins, there's nae scouth,
To be in ony swidders;
I only seek fat is my due,
I mean fat was my brither's.
To be in ony swidders;
I only seek fat is my due,
I mean fat was my brither's.
10
Bat why a thief, like Sisyphus,
That's nidder'd sae in hell,
Sud here tak fittininment,
Is mair na' I can tell.
That's nidder'd sae in hell,
Sud here tak fittininment,
Is mair na' I can tell.
Sall then these arms be deny'd
To me, fa in this bruilzie
Was the first man that drew my durk,
Came flaught-bred to the toulzie?
To me, fa in this bruilzie
Was the first man that drew my durk,
Came flaught-bred to the toulzie?
An' sall this sleeth come farrer ben,
Fa was sae dev'lish surly,
He scarce wou'd gae a fit frae hame,
An' o' us a' was hurly?
Fa was sae dev'lish surly,
He scarce wou'd gae a fit frae hame,
An' o' us a' was hurly?
11
An' frae the weir he did back hap,
An' turn'd to us his fud;
An' gar'd the hale-ware o' us trow
That he was gane clean wod.
An' turn'd to us his fud;
An' gar'd the hale-ware o' us trow
That he was gane clean wod.
Until the sin o' Nauplius,
Mair useless na' himsel,
His jouckry-pauckry finding out,
To weir did him compel.
Mair useless na' himsel,
His jouckry-pauckry finding out,
To weir did him compel.
Lat him than now tak will an' wile,
Fa nane at first wou'd wear,
An' I get baith the skaith an' scorn,
Twin'd o' my brither's gear!
Fa nane at first wou'd wear,
An' I get baith the skaith an' scorn,
Twin'd o' my brither's gear!
12
Because I was the foremaist man,
An' steed the hettest fire,
Just like the man that aught the cow,
Gade deepest i' the mire.
An' steed the hettest fire,
Just like the man that aught the cow,
Gade deepest i' the mire.
I wish the chiel he had been wod,
Or that it had been trow'd;
That mither o' mischief had not
To Troy's town been row'd.
Or that it had been trow'd;
That mither o' mischief had not
To Troy's town been row'd.
Syne Pæan's son, thou'd not been left
On Lemnos' isle to skirle,
Fare now thy granes in dowy dens
The yerd-fast stanes do thirle:
On Lemnos' isle to skirle,
Fare now thy granes in dowy dens
The yerd-fast stanes do thirle:
13
An' on that sleeth Ulysses' head
Sad curses down does bicker,
If there be gods aboon, I'm seer
He'll get them leel and sicker.
Sad curses down does bicker,
If there be gods aboon, I'm seer
He'll get them leel and sicker.
This doughty lad he was resolv'd
Wi' me his fate to try,
Wi' poison'd stewgs o' Hercules,
Bat 'las! his bleed wis fey.
Wi' me his fate to try,
Wi' poison'd stewgs o' Hercules,
Bat 'las! his bleed wis fey.
Wi' sickness now he's ferter like,
Or like a water-wraith,
An' hirplin after the wil birds,
Can scarce get meat an' claith.
Or like a water-wraith,
An' hirplin after the wil birds,
Can scarce get meat an' claith.
14
An' now these darts that weerded were
To tak the town o' Troy,
To get meat for his gabb, he man
Against the birds employ.
To tak the town o' Troy,
To get meat for his gabb, he man
Against the birds employ.
Yet he's alive, altho to gang
Wi' him he was fu' laith;
If Palamede had been sae wise,
He had been free frae skaith:
Wi' him he was fu' laith;
If Palamede had been sae wise,
He had been free frae skaith:
For he'd been livin ti' this day,
An' slept in a hale skin,
An' gotten fair play for his life,
An' stan'd he had nae been.
An' slept in a hale skin,
An' gotten fair play for his life,
An' stan'd he had nae been.
15
Because he prov'd he was nae wod,
He was sae fu' o' fraud,
He slack'd na' till he gat the life
O' this poor sakeless lad.
He was sae fu' o' fraud,
He slack'd na' till he gat the life
O' this poor sakeless lad.
For to the Grecians he did swear,
He had sae great envy,
That goud in goupens he had got,
The army to betray.
He had sae great envy,
That goud in goupens he had got,
The army to betray.
An' wi' mischief he was sae gnib,
To get his ill intent,
He howk'd the goud which he himsel
Had yerded in his tent.
To get his ill intent,
He howk'd the goud which he himsel
Had yerded in his tent.
16
Thus wi' uncanny pranks he fights,
An' sae he did beguile,
An' twin'd us o' our kneefest men,
By death and by exile.
An' sae he did beguile,
An' twin'd us o' our kneefest men,
By death and by exile.
Altho' mair gabby he may be
Than Nestor wise and true,
Yet few will say, it was nae fau't
That he did him furhow.
Than Nestor wise and true,
Yet few will say, it was nae fau't
That he did him furhow.
Fan his poor glyde was sae mischiev'd,
He'd neither ca' nor drive,
The lyart lad, wi' years sair dwang'd,
The traitor thief did leave.
He'd neither ca' nor drive,
The lyart lad, wi' years sair dwang'd,
The traitor thief did leave.
17
These are nae threeps o' mine, right well
Kens Diomede the wight,
Fa' wi' snell words him sair did snib,
An' bann'd his cowardly flight.
Kens Diomede the wight,
Fa' wi' snell words him sair did snib,
An' bann'd his cowardly flight.
The gods tho look on mortal men
Wi' eyn baith just and gleg;
Lo he, fa Nestor wou'd nae help,
For help himsel does beg!
Wi' eyn baith just and gleg;
Lo he, fa Nestor wou'd nae help,
For help himsel does beg!
Than as he did the auld man leave
Amon' sae fierce a menzie,
The law he made, lat him be paid
Back just in his ain cuinzie.
Amon' sae fierce a menzie,
The law he made, lat him be paid
Back just in his ain cuinzie.
18
Yet fan he cry'd, O neipers help!
I ran to tak his part,
He look'd sae haw as gin a dwame
Had just o'ercast his heart.
I ran to tak his part,
He look'd sae haw as gin a dwame
Had just o'ercast his heart.
For they had gi'en him sik a fleg,
He look'd as he'd been doited,
For ilka' limb an' lith o' him
'Gainst ane anithir knoited.
He look'd as he'd been doited,
For ilka' limb an' lith o' him
'Gainst ane anithir knoited.
Syne wi' my targe I cover'd him,
Fan on the yerd he lies,
An' sav'd his smeerless saul, I think,
'Tis little to my praise.
Fan on the yerd he lies,
An' sav'd his smeerless saul, I think,
'Tis little to my praise.
19
Bat gin wi' Batie ye will bourd,
Come back, lad, to yon place;
Lat Trojans an' your wonted fears
Stand glourin i' your face:
Come back, lad, to yon place;
Lat Trojans an' your wonted fears
Stand glourin i' your face:
Syne slouch behind my doughty targe,
That yon day your head happit;
There fight your fill, sin' ye are grown
Sae unco crous an' cappit.
That yon day your head happit;
There fight your fill, sin' ye are grown
Sae unco crous an' cappit.
Fan I came to him, wi' sad wound
He had nae maughts to gang,
Bat fan he saw that he was safe,
Right souple cou'd he spang.
He had nae maughts to gang,
Bat fan he saw that he was safe,
Right souple cou'd he spang.
20
Lo! Hector to the toulzie came,
An' gods baith fierce an' grim,
He flegged starker fouk na' you,
Sae sair they dreaded him.
An' gods baith fierce an' grim,
He flegged starker fouk na' you,
Sae sair they dreaded him.
Yet as he did o' slaughter voust,
I len'd him sik a dird,
As laid him arselins on his back,
To wamble o' the yerd.
I len'd him sik a dird,
As laid him arselins on his back,
To wamble o' the yerd.
Fan he spang'd out, rampag'd an' said
That nane amon' us a'
Durst venture out upo the lone,
Wi' him to shak a fa';
That nane amon' us a'
Durst venture out upo the lone,
Wi' him to shak a fa';
21
I dacker'd wi' him by mysel,
Ye wish't it to my kavel,
An' gin ye speer fa got the day,
We parted on a nevel.
Ye wish't it to my kavel,
An' gin ye speer fa got the day,
We parted on a nevel.
Lo! Trojans fetch baith fire an' sword
Amo' the Grecian barks:
Fare's eloquent Ulysses now,
Wi' a' his wily cracks?
Amo' the Grecian barks:
Fare's eloquent Ulysses now,
Wi' a' his wily cracks?
I than a thousand ships did save,
An' muckle danger thol'd;
'Gin they' ad brunt, deil ane had seen
The land fare he was foal'd.
An' muckle danger thol'd;
'Gin they' ad brunt, deil ane had seen
The land fare he was foal'd.
22
Bat gin the truth I now durst tell,
I think the honour's mair
To them, than fat it is to me,
Tho' they come to my skair:
I think the honour's mair
To them, than fat it is to me,
Tho' they come to my skair:
At least the honour equal is;
Than fat needs a' this din;
For Ajax them he does na' seek,
Sae sair as they do him.
Than fat needs a' this din;
For Ajax them he does na' seek,
Sae sair as they do him.
Than lat Ulysses now compare
Rhæsus an' maughtless Dolon,
An' Priam's son, an' Pallas phizz
That i' the night was stoln.
Rhæsus an' maughtless Dolon,
An' Priam's son, an' Pallas phizz
That i' the night was stoln.
23
For deil be-licket has he done,
Fan it was fair-fuir days;
Nor without gaucy Diomede,
Fa was his guide always.
Fan it was fair-fuir days;
Nor without gaucy Diomede,
Fa was his guide always.
Rather na' gi' him this propine,
For deeds that feckless are,
Divide them, and lat Diomede
Come in for the best share.
For deeds that feckless are,
Divide them, and lat Diomede
Come in for the best share.
Bat fat use will they be to him,
Fa in hudge mudge wi' wiles,
Without a gully in his hand,
The smeerless fae beguiles?
Fa in hudge mudge wi' wiles,
Without a gully in his hand,
The smeerless fae beguiles?
24
The gouden helmet will sae glance,
An blink wi' skyrin brinns,
That a' his wimples they'll find out
Fan i' the mark he sheens.
An blink wi' skyrin brinns,
That a' his wimples they'll find out
Fan i' the mark he sheens.
Bat his weak head nae farrach has
That helmet for to bear,
Nor has he mergh intil his banes,
To wield Achilles' spear:
That helmet for to bear,
Nor has he mergh intil his banes,
To wield Achilles' spear:
Nor his bra targe, on which is seen
The yerd, the sin, and lift,
Can well agree wi' his cair cleuck,
That cleckit was for thift.
The yerd, the sin, and lift,
Can well agree wi' his cair cleuck,
That cleckit was for thift.
25
Fat gars you than, mischievous tyke!
For this propine to prig,
That your sma banes wou'd langel sair,
They are sae unco big?
For this propine to prig,
That your sma banes wou'd langel sair,
They are sae unco big?
An' gin the Greeks sud be sae blind,
As gi' you sik a gift,
The Trojan lads right soon wou'd dight
You like a futtle haft.
As gi' you sik a gift,
The Trojan lads right soon wou'd dight
You like a futtle haft.
An' as you ay by speed o' fit
Perform ilk' doughty deed,
Fan laggert wi' this bouksome graith,
You will tyne half your speed.
Perform ilk' doughty deed,
Fan laggert wi' this bouksome graith,
You will tyne half your speed.
26
Besides your targe, in battle keen,
Bat little danger tholes,
While mine wi' mony a thudd is clour'd,
An' thirl'd sair wi' holes.
Bat little danger tholes,
While mine wi' mony a thudd is clour'd,
An' thirl'd sair wi' holes.
Bat now, fat need's for a' this din?
Lat deeds o' words tak' place,
An lat your stoutness now be try'd,
Just here before your face.
Lat deeds o' words tak' place,
An lat your stoutness now be try'd,
Just here before your face.
Lat the arms of Achilles brave
Amon' our faes be laid,
An' the first chiel that brings them back,
Lat him wi' them be clad.
Amon' our faes be laid,
An' the first chiel that brings them back,
Lat him wi' them be clad.
THE END.
37
A Shop BILL.
To ilka body be it kend,
Frae John A-groats to the land's end,
That frae this day I do intend,
some shanks to sell;
This is my bill, to you I send
that it may tell:
Frae John A-groats to the land's end,
That frae this day I do intend,
some shanks to sell;
This is my bill, to you I send
that it may tell:
That gin you chance for me to speer,
I'll fit you weel wi' doughty geer
That either knabbs or lairds may weer,
and ladies tee,
For ilka season i' the year,
as ye shall see.
I'll fit you weel wi' doughty geer
That either knabbs or lairds may weer,
and ladies tee,
For ilka season i' the year,
as ye shall see.
An' first o' hose I hae a fouth,
Some frae the North, some frae the South,
An' some o' our ain quintry grouth,
baith grae an' russet,
Wi' different clocks; bat yet in truth
we ca' it gushet.
Some frae the North, some frae the South,
An' some o' our ain quintry grouth,
baith grae an' russet,
Wi' different clocks; bat yet in truth
we ca' it gushet.
38
An' mair attour I'll tell you trow,
That a' the moggans are bra new,
Some worsted are o' different hue,
an' some are cotton,
That's safter far na' ony woo,
that grows on mutton.
That a' the moggans are bra new,
Some worsted are o' different hue,
an' some are cotton,
That's safter far na' ony woo,
that grows on mutton.
Bat gin some lads shou'd stand in need,
Of shanks that are for simmer weed,
I'll fit them wi' the best o' threed,
or white or brown,
That may well sair the gentlest bleed
in a' the town.
Of shanks that are for simmer weed,
I'll fit them wi' the best o' threed,
or white or brown,
That may well sair the gentlest bleed
in a' the town.
The mucklest man he may be fitted
Wi' hose that's either wove or knitted,
An' gin he likes, he's get them litted,
or brown or black;
We'll gar him say, he's nae outwitted,
fan he comes back.
Wi' hose that's either wove or knitted,
An' gin he likes, he's get them litted,
or brown or black;
We'll gar him say, he's nae outwitted,
fan he comes back.
39
The porter, car-man, or servant lad,
That ca's the beast wi' fup or gad,
May come to me, fare may be had,
for their nain wear,
The starkest hose that can be made,
an' yet nae dear.
That ca's the beast wi' fup or gad,
May come to me, fare may be had,
for their nain wear,
The starkest hose that can be made,
an' yet nae dear.
Far wary-draggle, an' sharger elf,
I hae the gear upo' my skelf,
Will mak them soon lay down their pelf,
fan anes they see,
That they wi' ease can fit themselves,
an' deal wi' me.
I hae the gear upo' my skelf,
Will mak them soon lay down their pelf,
fan anes they see,
That they wi' ease can fit themselves,
an' deal wi' me.
Frae ladies to a servant wench,
I can well fit them every inch,
An' gin they're fley'd that they shou'd pinch,
I'll try them on;
Perhaps I may their greening stench,
'ere I hae done.
I can well fit them every inch,
An' gin they're fley'd that they shou'd pinch,
I'll try them on;
Perhaps I may their greening stench,
'ere I hae done.
40
Red, blue an' green, an' likewise pearl,
I hae to fit the little girl;
An' some for those that tak a tirle
amo' the sheets,
Wi' mony a bony tirly wirl
about the queets.
I hae to fit the little girl;
An' some for those that tak a tirle
amo' the sheets,
Wi' mony a bony tirly wirl
about the queets.
The ladies that do tak their pleasure,
An' wi' true travel win their treasure,
Gin that they hae sae muckle leisure
on me to call,
I'll fit exactly to their measure,
baith great an' small.
An' wi' true travel win their treasure,
Gin that they hae sae muckle leisure
on me to call,
I'll fit exactly to their measure,
baith great an' small.
Besides I'd hae you understand,
That I hae caps upo demand,
An' gloves likewise, to hap the hand
of fremt an' sib.
An' napkins, as guid's in a' the land,
to dight your nib.
That I hae caps upo demand,
An' gloves likewise, to hap the hand
of fremt an' sib.
An' napkins, as guid's in a' the land,
to dight your nib.
41
Now by my bill you plainly see,
That great an' sma can fitted be:
Come than flock flaught-bred unto me,
an' buy my shanks,
You may be sure that I will gi'
a warld o' thanks.
That great an' sma can fitted be:
Come than flock flaught-bred unto me,
an' buy my shanks,
You may be sure that I will gi'
a warld o' thanks.
I likewise tell you by this bill,
That I do live upo Tower-hill,
Hard by the house o' Robie Mill,
just i' the nuik,
Ye canna' miss't fan 'ere you will,
the sign's a buik.
That I do live upo Tower-hill,
Hard by the house o' Robie Mill,
just i' the nuik,
Ye canna' miss't fan 'ere you will,
the sign's a buik.
O si nunc juvenes et puellae
Wou'd flock in, like micantes stellae,
Tum mihi suavius erit melle,
fan, frae the thrang,
The clink that haps baith back an' belly,
I tell ding dang.
Wou'd flock in, like micantes stellae,
Tum mihi suavius erit melle,
fan, frae the thrang,
The clink that haps baith back an' belly,
I tell ding dang.
42
Sed denique, it is uncommon
To send a bill that mentions no man,
Ut finem huicce story ponam,
sit notum vobis,
Simmer an' winter, hoc est nomen,
To send a bill that mentions no man,
Ut finem huicce story ponam,
sit notum vobis,
Simmer an' winter, hoc est nomen,
I mean ROB. FORBES.
| Ajax his speech to the Grecian Knabbs, From Ovid's Metam. Lib. XIII | |