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SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
SIXTEENTH CENTURY
Published by
William Hodge & Co., Glasgow
Williams & Norgate, London and Edinburgh
Hbbotstor^ Series
of tbc
Scottisb ipoets
Edited by GEORGE EYRE-TODD
SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
SIXTEENTH CENTURY
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY
JOHN BELLENDEN
KING JAMES THE FIFTH
SIR RICHARD MAITLAND
ALEXANDER SCOT
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE
Glasgow: WILLIAM HODGE & CO
1892
PR
n o
NOTE.
Many of the best editions of the Scottish poets,
even of recent date, increase the difficulties of archaic
language by such unnecessary stumbling-blocks as
the use of the old straight s, and of Anglo-Saxon
symbols for certain letters. Some even appear in
the added obscurity of Old English type. And
when these hindrances are not present, an irritating
punctuation too often remains a barrier to all
enjoyment. To these obstacles, as much, perhaps,
as to the actual scarcity and costliness of the works,
is to be attributed the popular neglect of a noble
heritage in recent years. In the present volume,
as in the previous volumes of this series, an effort
has been made, while preserving the text intact in
its original form, to improve in these respects upon
the readableness of previous editions. A running
glossary has, for the same object, been furnished
in the margin of each page. For practical perusal
of the text, as poetry, it is believed that this arrange-
ment, translating obsolete words, as it does, without
a break in the reading, is better than footnotes, or
a glossary at the end of the volume. Few now-a-days,
it is to be feared, save the most ardent students,
can afford the time necessary for the elucidation by
>% /%
9068- '■
VI NOTE.
means of a dictionary even of so short a poem as
" Chrystis Kirk on the Grene."
While avoiding a burden of distracting comment,
all necessary information, it is hoped, has been
included in the separate introductions.
All the poems not otherwise indicated are here
printed entire ; and in particular it may be pointed
out that the four pieces attributed to King James
the Fifth are now reproduced complete and together
for the first time since 1786.
CONTENTS.
Scottish Poetry of the Sixteenth Century,
Sir David Lyndsay,
The Dreme,
The Testament and Convplaynt of our Soverane
Lordis Papyngo, ......
The Justing Betuix James Watsoun and Jhone Barbour,
Kitteis Confessioun,
Squyer Meldrumis Justyng, .....
The Squyeris Adew, ......
Ane Pleasant Satyre of the Thrie Estaitis, .
Daybreak in May,
John Bellenden,
Virtew and Vyce,
Nobilnes, ......
Address to Bellona and King James V.,
The Excusation of the Prentar,
Anno Domini,
King James the Fifth, .
Peblis to the Play,
Chrystis Kirk on the Grene,
The Gaberlunzieman,
The Jolly Beggar, .
PAGE
I
9
29
40
64
67
72
84
85
102
105
"5
129
132
134
136
139
159
168
176
180
VIU
CONTENTS.
Sir Richard Maitland, ....
Satire on the Age, ....
Satire on the Toun Ladyes, .
Na Kyndnes at Court without Siller,
On the Folye of ane Auld Manis Maryand
Young Woman, ....
Aganis the Theivis of Liddisdaill, .
Advyce to Lesom Mirriness, .
Alexander Scot,
The Justing and Debait vp at the Drum
William Adamsone and Johine Sym,
Hence, Hairt,
Oppressit Hairt Indure, .
To Luve Vnluvit, ...
Lo, Quhat it is to Lufe,
Alexander Montgomerie,
The Cherrie and the Slae,
The Night is Neir Gone,
An Admonitioun to Young Lassis,
To His Maistres, .
To His Maistres, .
To The for Me, .
betuix
ane
PAGE
183
195
199
204
206
208
212
215
223
229
231
234
236
237
245
263
266
267
268
269
SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
Flodden Field, that long slope looking north-
ward by the "deep and dark and sullen Till,"
where on a September afternoon in 15 13 the
flower of Scotland fell round James the Fourth,
stands darkly marked on the page of history
both of the Scottish nation and of Scottish
poetry. It was for the North the burial-place
of one era and the birth-place of another. The
English billmen who on Flodden closed round
the last desperate ring of Scottish spears hewed
down with their ghastly weapons not only James
himself and his nobles, but the feudal system in
church and state, with all that sprang from it,
the civilization and poetry of the Middle Ages
in Scotland. The national spirit which had
burst into leaf at Bannockburn was touched now
as by an autumn frost, and a time of storm and
darkness must ensue before the country could
feel the re-awakening influences of a new spring.
The mediaeval world, with its charm and its
chivalry, its splendour, cruelty, and power, was
B III
2 SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
passing away, while the modern world was in
the throes of being born.
Had James IV. lived he would doubtless have
continued, firm-handed as he was, to hold in
check both churchmen and nobles, and the
reforms which were in the air might have taken
effect like leaven, and not, as they did, like gun-
powder. They might have been grafted upon
the existing stem, as in England, instead of
overturning it. But during the long minority
of James V. the abuses of the feudal system,
political and ecclesiastical, attained too rank a
growth to be pruned by the hand of that king
when he came of age, notwithstanding his energy
and good intentions. The system, as Macaulay
has pointed out, had served its purpose in the
Middle Ages as perhaps no more modern
system could have done. In the feudal castles
and monasteries had been preserved certain
lights of chivalry and learning which, without
such shelter, must, amid the storms of these cen-
turies, have flickered and disappeared. These
lights were now, however, burning more and
more dimly. The corruptions of the clergy and
the rapacity of the nobles outran all bounds, and
between the two no man's life was safe and no
woman's honour. Like other human institutions,
therefore, which have outlived their usefulness,
feudalism was doomed.
SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 3
Renaissance was to come, not from within,
but from without, and in the north the new
influence took the form of a miHtant religious
enthusiasm. Already in James the Fourth's time
the war-horns of the Reformation sounded on
the Continent had made their echoes heard in
Scotland ; and during the reign of his successor
these were taken up and resounded at home
with tremendous effect by the iconoclast trio,
Lyndsay, Buchanan, and Knox. The new era
was to be one of strife and tempest, in which
the root of poesy was little likely to bring to
perfection its rarest blossoms.
Goethe has said that the Reformation cost
Europe three centuries' growth of civilization.
So far as poetry is concerned the statement must
be taken as true in Scotland to a modified
extent. No one would be so foolish as to deny
the immense advantages, in the purification of
morals and the setting up of new perfervid
ideals, which the Reformation brought to the
north. But it is too frequently forgotten that
the era of Scotland's highest achievement in
arms and in poetry was not the era of Knox
and Buchanan, but the era of Bishop Lamberton,
Archdeacon Barbour,* and the preaching friar
Dunbar. Against the unquestionable benefits
of the Reformation in Scotland must be set
* Respectively the friend and the historian of the Bruce.
4 SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
the fact that it not only broke the stem of the
existing feudal civilization, but itself, intent
only upon things of a future life, and modelled
overmuch upon Judaic ideals, gave scant en-
couragement to the carnal arts of this world.
There is strong reason to believe that Scottish
character, so far as social qualities go, suffered a
certain withering change in the sixteenth cen-
tury. Under feudalism, with all its faults, the
country had been characterized by a generous
joyousness which may be read between the lines
of its contemporary history and poetry. Bruce,
in the intervals of his heroic undertaking, could
recite long romances of chivalry. The accom-
plishments of James I. as musician, poet, and
player at all games and sports, are too well known
to need repetition. Blind Harry v.'as only one
of the wandering minstrels who everywhere
earned feast and bed by their entertainments.
And the madcap court of James IV. lives in the
poems of William Dunbar and the letters of
the Spanish ambassador, Pedro de Ayala. All
this was changed at the Reformation, and there
seems to have been imposed then upon the life
of the people a certain ascetic seriousness which
has left its traces on the national character to
the present day. Mirth and entertainment of
all sorts not strictly religious were severely dis-
countenanced by the Reformers, as tending to
SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 5
render this life too attractive, and to withdraw
attention from the great object of existence,
preparation for the tomb. The attitude of the
new rulers towards poetical composition in
particular may be judged from two instances.
In 1576, in the first book printed in Gaelic —
Knox's Forms of Prayer and Catechism — Bishop
Carswell, the translator, in his preface condemns
with pious severity the Highlanders' enjoyment
of songs and histories " concerning warriors and
champions, and Fingal the son of Comhal, with
his heroes." And the title-page of that curious
collection, TJie Glide and Godlie Ballates, pub-
lished in 1578,* bears that the contents consist
in great part of pious compositions "changed
out of prophaine Sangis, for avoyding of sinne
and harlotrie." So strongly, indeed, burned the
ardour of the Reformers that for a considerable
period nothing was printed in the Scottish press
but what was tinged with religion in the strictest
sense ; and the effect of the condemnation of
* Included in Dalzell's Scotish Poems of the XVIih Century,
Edin. 1801, and reprinted in 1868. The following opening lines
atibrd a specimen of the adaptation of a " prophaine sang " : —
Quho is at my windo? who? who?
Goe from my windo ; goe, goe :
Quha calles there, so like ane stranger?
Goe from my windo, goe.
Lord, I am heir, ane wratched mortall
That for thy mercie dois crie and call
Vnto thee, my Lord Celestiall.
See who is at my window, who.
6 SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE
"profane" literature at that time is to be traced in
the prejudice with which novel-reading has been
regarded in Scotland almost to the present day.
There was in the air, besides, another depres-
sing influence which must not be overlooked.
Simultaneously with the dawn of the Refor-
mation the Scottish language began to decay.
The causes of this decay are sufficiently
ascertained.* For the first forty years of the
Reformation movement there was no transla-
tion of the Scriptures into the northern dialect.
The copies used were obtained from England.
Carried everywhere by the popular wave, the
English book, as it was called, must by itself
have done much to change the tongue of the
country. Further, as the Catholic party in
Scotland naturally looked for support to the
ancient alliance with Catholic France, the adhe-
rents of Protestantism were forced into intimate
relations and constant communication with
Protestant England. In the works of Sir David
Lyndsay, the earliest poet of the new period, the
influence of this connection is seen taking effect,
English forms of words, like go, also, and one,
constantly taking the place of the mediaeval
Scottish. John Knox was a greater innovator
* The influences which went to fashion and to disintegrate the
speech of the North are very clearly and systematically traced in
Dr. J. A. H. Murray's introduction to his Dialect of the Southern
Counties of Scotland, London, 1873.
SIXTEENTH CENTURY. ^
than Lyndsay in this respect ; and the deteri-
oration went steadily on until, shortly after the
close of the century, the coup de grace was given
to the tongue by the transference of James VI.
and his court to England. Upon that event
Lowland Scottish went out of favour, and prac-
tically ceased to be a literary language.*
In face of these adverse influences — the decay
of the language, religious disfavour, and the
overturn of the ancient social system — a brilliant
poetic era was not to be looked for in Scotland
in the sixteenth century. The marvel is that so
much was produced that had vigour, humour,
and tenderness. Justice has hardly yet been
done to a period which, opening with the icono-
clast thunders of Sir David Lyndsay, included
the compositions of the gallant James V., of "the
Scottish Anacreon" Alexander Scot, and of the
author of " The Cherrie and the Slae." These
Scottish singers have their own place and charm,,
and it has to be remembered that their work was
composed while the strange silence of more than
a hundred years which followed the death of
Chaucer south of the Tweed was still all but
unbroken.
* Dr. Murray in a note (p. 71) upon the dialect of Scottish
poets of the modern period remarks, "'Scots wha hae' \s fancy
Scotch — that is, it is merely the English 'Scots who have,' spelled
as Scotch. Barbour would have written ' Scottis at hcs' ; Dunbar
or Douglas, 'Scottis quhilkis lies'; and even Henry Charteris,
in the end of the sixteenth century, ' Scottis quha hes.' "
8 SCOTTISH POETRY.
The early period of Scottish poetry, corre-
sponding to the heroic era of the national history,
had been one of geste, chronicle, and patriotic
epic, and remains illustrious with the names of
Thomas the Rhymer, Barbour, Wyntoun, and
Henry the Minstrel. 'The mediaeval period, that
in which the temper of the nation changed from
one of strenuous, single-hearted purpose to one
of conscious reflection, individual assertion, and
restless personal desire, had been the period in
which, lit anew by the torch of Chaucer, and fed
by the genius of James I., Henryson, Dunbar,
and Douglas, Scottish poetry shot forth its most
splendid flame. The sixteenth century, no less
clearly marked, was a period of change. With
Flodden Field and the Reformation the old
order of things passed away. As the feudalism
of the Middle Ages passed out of church and
state the mediaeval spirit passed out of the
national poetry, and amid the strife of new
ideals the last songs were sung in the national
language of Scotland. Before the close of the
century a new light had risen in the south, the
brilliant Elizabethan constellation was flashing
into fire, and under its influence the singers of
the north were to make a new departure, and,
like their kings who were seated on the English
throne, were to adopt the accents of the southern
tongue.
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
For more than two hundred years, until the appear-
ance of Robert Burns, the most popular of all the
Scottish poets was Sir David Lyndsay of the Mount.
During that time more than twenty editions of his
works were published; next to the Bible they were
perhaps the most familiar reading of the people;
and in any question of phraseology, "Ye'll no fin'
that in Davie Lyndsay" was a common condemna-
tion against which there was no appeal. Popularity
is not always a sign of worth; but in Lyndsay's case
its justice must be admitted. The qualities which
made him popular also make him great. No more
honest, fearless, and admirable figure stands out
from the page of Scottish history than that of this
clear-sighted and true-hearted poet, who in a corrupt
age filled so many parts without question and
without stain. If effects are to be considered in
judgment, a great place must be accorded the man
who began by moulding the mind of a prince and
ended by reforming that of a nation.
The Juvenal of Scotland was descended from a
younger branch of the Lyndsays of the Byres in
12 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
Haddingtonshire, and is believed to have been born
in 1490 either at The Mount, near Cupar- Fife, or at
Garleton, then Garmylton, in East Lothian. From the
former small estate the poet's father and himself in
succession took their title, but the latter was apparently
the chief residence of the family. There were grammar
schools then established both in Haddington and
in Cupar; and at one of these, it is probable, the
poet received his early education. All that is
definitely known of his early years, however, has
been gathered from the fact that his name appears
in 1508 or 1509 among the Incorporati or fourth-
year students of St. Salvator's College, St. Andrews.
He must therefore have matriculated there in 1505,
the year of John Knox's birth. Next Lyndsay's
name in the register follows that of David Beaton,
afterwards archbishop and cardinal, and the most
formidable opponent of the Reformation in Scotland.
It has been inferred from two references in his poems*
that upon leaving college Lyndsay visited the Con-
tinent and travelled as far as Italy. But information
on the subject remains uncertain.
The next definite notice shows him attached to
the royal court, and taking part in the amusements
* From an eye-witnesslike allusion to the walking-length of
Italian ladies' dresses in his " ContemiDtioun of Syde Taillis,"
and from the Courteour's speech in " The Monarche " (line 5417)
alluding apparently to the Pope's presence at the siege of
Mirandola in i^ii.
" I saw Pape Julius manfullye
Passe to the feild tryumphantlye
With ane rycht aufull ordinance
Contrar Lowis, the kyng of France."
S/H DAVID LYNDSAY, 13
which were there in vogue. It is an entry in the
treasurer's accounts on 12 th October, 15 11, of ;^3 4s.
for blue and yellow taffeties "to be a play coat to
David Lyndsay for the play playit in the king and
queen's presence in the Abbey of Holyrood." In
the same year appear the first quarterly payments of
an annual salary of ^40, which he received hence-
forth for his duties at court. The exact position
which he at first filled is uncertain, but on the birth
of Prince James, afterwards James V., on 12th April,
15 12, Lyndsay was appointed chief page or usher to
the infant. The description of his services in this
capacity makes a delightful picture in the "Epistil
to the Kingis Grace " prefixed to " The Dreme," and
again in the "Complaynt" of 1529. The lines of
the latter may be quoted —
I talc the Quenis Grace, thy mother.
My Lord Chancelare, and mony uther,
Thy Nowreis, and thy auld Maistres,
I tak thame all to beir wytnes;
Auld Willie Dillie, wer he on lyve,
My lyfe full weill he could discryve:
Quhow, as ana chapman beris his pak,
I bure thy Grace upon my bak,
And sumtymes, strydlingis on my nek,
Dansand with mony bend and bek.
The first sillabis that thow did mute
Was Pa, Da Lyn,* upon the lute;
Than playit I twenty spryngis, perqueir,
Quhilk was grat piete for to heir.
Fra play thow leit me never rest,
Bot Gynkartount thow lufit ay best;
And ay, quhen thow come frome the sculc
* Play, Davie Lyndsay. t An old Scottish tune.
14 S/H DAVID LYNDSAY.
Than I behuffit to play the fule;
As I at lenth, in-to my Dreme
My sindry servyce did expreme.
Thocht it bene better, as sayis the wyse,
Hape to the court nor gude servyce,
I wate thow luffit me better, than.
Nor, now, sum wyfe dois hir gude-man.
Than men tyll uther did recorde,
Said Lyndesay wald be maid ane lord :
Thow hes maid lordis, Schir, be Sanct Geill,
Of sum that hes nocht servit so weill.
Whatever may have been the severity of character
which in other matters James sometimes considered
it his duty to show, there remains as testimony to
the real nature of " the King of the Commons " that
he never forgot these early services of his faithful
attendant.
When the prince was a year old, that is, in 15 13,
just before Flodden, Lyndsay was witness to that
strange scene in the Church of St. Michael in
Linlithgow which is related upon his authority both
by Pitscottie and Buchanan, and which is popularly
known through Sir Walter Scott's version in Mai-mion.
On the eve of setting forth upon his fatal campaign
James IV., according to Pitscottie, was with his
nobles attending prayers in the church at Linlithgow
when a tall man came in, roughly clad in a blue
gown and bare-headed, with a great pikestaff in
his hand, "cryand and spearand for the King."
He advanced to James, and with small reverence
laid his arm on the royal praying-desk. "Sir King,"
he said, "my mother has sent me to you desiring
you not to passe, at this time, where thou art
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY. 15
purposed; for if thou does thou wilt not fair well
in thy journey, nor none that passeth with thee.
Further, she bade ye melle with no woman, nor use
their counsell, nor let them touch thy body, nor thou
theirs; for, and thou do it, thou wilt be confounded
and brought to shame." "Be this man," proceeds
the chronicler, "had spoken thir words unto the
King's Grace, the Even-song was neere doone, and
the King paused on thir words, studying to give
him an answer; but in the mean time, before the
King's eyes, and in presence of all the Lords that
were about him for the time, this man vanished
away, and could no wayes be scene nor compre-
hended, but vanished away as he had beene ane
blink of the sunne, or ane whiss of the whirlwind,
and could no more be scene."
It has been suggested that the episode might be
an effort of Queen Margaret to dissuade her husband
from the campaign by working upon his superstition,
and that Lyndsay, through whose hands the apparition
"vanished away," probably knew more of the affair
than he cared to confess. The whole matter, how-
ever, is wrapped up in mystery.
After the death of James IV. at Flodden, Lyndsay
appears to have remained in constant attendance upon
the young king, sometimes being styled "the Kingis
maister usher," sometimes "the Kingis maister of
houshald." It was probably in the course of these
duties that he made the acquaintance of the lady
who became his wife. Whether she was related to
the great historic house is unknown, but her name
1 6 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
was Janet Douglas, and from numerous entries in
the treasurer's accounts she appears, notwithstanding
her marriage, to have held the post of sempstress
to the king till the end of his reign. The union
took place about the year 1522.
In 1524 affairs in Scotland took a turn which for
a time deprived Lyndsay of his office. On 20th
May in that year the Regent Albany finally retired
to France, and the reins of government were assumed
by Queen Margaret, who, to strengthen her position
against her divorced husband, the powerful Earl of
Angus, withdrew the young prince from his tutors,
and placed the sceptre nominally in his hand.
Angus, however, prevailed, and getting possession of
the person of James, ruled Scotland in the Douglas
interest for four years. Lyndsay's opinion of the
effect of this proceeding may be gathered from the
lines of his " Complaynt " —
The Kyng was bot twelf yeris of aige
Quhen new rewlaris come, in thair raige.
For Commonweill makand no cair,
Bot for thair proffeit singulair.
Imprudentlie, lyk wytles fuilis,
Thay tuke that young Prince frome the scuiHs,
Quhare he, under obedience,
Was lernand vertew and science.
And haistelie platt in his hand
The governance of all Scotland ;
As quho wald, in ane stormye blast,
Quhen marinaris bene all agast
Throw dainger of the seis raige,
Wald tak ane chylde of tender aige
Quhilk never had bene on the sey,
And to his biddyng all obey,
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY. \>t
Gevyng h3mi haill the governall
Off schip, marchand, and marinall,
For dreid of rockis and foreland,
To put the ruther in his hand.
Without Goddis grace is no refuge ;
Geve thare be dainger ye may juge.
I gyf thame to the Devyll of Hell
Quhilk first devysit that counsell!
I wyll nocht say that it was treassoun,
Bot I dar sweir it was no reassoun.
I pray God, lat me never se ryng,
In-to this realme, so young ane Kyng!
Discharged from his duties, though, at the instance
of James, his salary continued to be paid, Lyndsay
retired to his estates, and occupied his leisure
by casting into verse some of his reflections upon
the events and character of his time. These, in the
form of a scarcely veiled satire, with a finely poetic
setting, he published under the title of "The Dreme,"
probably in 1528. In the autumn of the same year,
it is believed, he wrote his "Complaynt to the Kingis
Grace," a performance in which, as has been seen,
he recounts his early services, and asks some token
of royal recognition, declaiming fearlessly the abuses
which have been practised by the recent governors
of the realm, and ending with congratulations and
sound counsel on James's own sudden assumption
of power.
This reminder would hardly appear to have been
needed by the young king. On a night in May of that
year James had escaped from Falkland, and dashing
through the defiles of the Ochils with only a couple
of grooms in his train, had established himself in
C III
i8 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
Stirling, successfully defied the Douglas power, and,
though no more than sixteen years of age, had in a
few hours made himself absolute master of Scotland.
Among the first to benefit by his assumption of power
were his old attendants. His chaplain. Sir James
Inglis, he made Abbot of Culross ; his tutor, Gavin
Dunbar, he made Archbishop of Glasgow, and after-
wards Lord High Chancellor; while upon Lyndsay
he conferred the honour of knighthood and appointed
him Lyon King at Arms.
This was in 1529, and the appointment marks
Lyndsay's entry into the larger public life of his time.
The office of the Chief Herald was then an active
one, its holder being employed on frequent state
envoys to foreign courts. Thus in 153 1 Lyndsay was
sent to the Netherlands to renew a commercial treaty
of James I. which had just lapsed. Upon that occa-
sion he had an interview at Brussels with the Queen
of Hungary, then Regent of the Netherlands, and her
brother the Emperor Charles V. ; and in a letter still
extant* he describes the tournaments, of which he
was spectator, at the royal court.
Again, in 1536, he was one of the embassy sent
to France to conclude a marriage between James and
Marie de Bourbon, daughter of the Due de Vendome.
Negotiations in this case were all but completed when
by the personal interference of James the treaty was
broken off and espousals arranged instead with Mag-
dalene, the daughter of the French king, Francis I.
* Given in facsimile by Mr. Laing in his introduction to
Lyndsay's works, p. xxiv.
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY. 19
The sad sequel of this romantic union is well
known. The fate of the fragile young princess formed
the subject of Lyndsay's elegy, " The Deploratioun of
the Deith of Queue Magdalene."
Strangely enough, the Lyon Herald's next employ-
ment was, in the following year, the superintendence
of ceremonies at reception of James's new bride,
Mary, the daughter of the Due de Guise. These,
like the other events of the time, are fully described
by Lindsay of Pitscottie, the contemporary historian.
Among other "fersis and playis" they included one
curious device. "And first sche was receivit at the
New Abbay yet (gate) ; upon the eist syd thairof thair
wes maid to hir ane triumphant arch be Sir David
Lindsay of the Mount, knicht, alias Lyon Kyng at
Armis, quha caussit ane greyt cloud to cum out of
the hevins down abone the yeit; out the quhilk
cloude come downe ane fair Lady most lyk ane
angell, having the keyis of Scotland in hir hand,
and delyverit thayme to the Queinis grace in signe
and taikin that all the harts of Scotland wer opin for
the receveing of hir Grace; withe certane Oratiouns
maid be the said Sir David to the Quein's Grace,
desyring hir to feir hir God, and to serve him, and
to reverence and obey hir husband, and keip her
awin body clein, according to God's will and
commandment. " *
A more momentous piece of work, and one more
worthy of the poet's genius, was Lyndsay's next
performance. In 1530, in his "Testament and
* Pitscottie's History, Edin. 1728, p. 160.
20 Sin DAVID LYNDSAY.
Complaynt of our Soverane Lordis Papyngo," he
had already ventured with great boldness to expose
the disorders of the time in church affairs. He
now went further, and in the guise of a stage-play
attacked with fearless and biting satire the corruptions
of clergy and nobles. This play, "Ane Pleasant
Satyre of the thrie Estaitis," appears to have been
first performed at Linlithgow at the feast of Epiphany
on 6th January, 1539-40, when, occupying no less
than nine hours in representation,* it was witnessed
by the king, the queen, and ladies of the court, the
bishops, nobles, and a great gathering of people.
As Lyon Herald, Lyndsay superintended the pre-
paration of the Register of Arms of the Scottish
nobility and gentry. This work, now in the Advo-
cates' Library, Mr. Laing commends for its careful
execution and proper emblazonment of the arms,
as most creditable to the state of heraldic art in
Scotland. It was completed in 1542.
On the 14th of December in the same year
Lyndsay was one of those who stood by the bedside
of the dying king at Falkland, when, overwhelmed
by sorrow and disappointment, he "turned his back
to his lordis and his face to the wall," and presently
passed away. The friendship between the king and
the poet, which had begun in the prince's cradle-days,
appears to have had not a single break, one of James'
last acts being to assign to Lyndsay, "during all the
days of his life, two chalders of oats, for horse-corn,
out of the King's lands of Dynmure in Fife."
* Charteris's Preface to Lyndsay 's works, Edin. 1582.
S/Ji DAVID LYNDSAY. 21
The Lyon Herald survived his master about fifteen
years, and lived to see signs that the reforms which
he had urged would one day be carried out.
In 1546 occurred the first crisis of the Reforma-
tion. In consequence of the cruel burning of George
Wishart at St. Andrews in that year, the castle there
was stormed by Norman Lesley and fifteen others,
and Cardinal Beaton, the prelate most obnoxious to
the reforming party, was assassinated. On the 4th
of August, Lyndsay, as commissioner for the burgh
of Cupar, was in his seat in Parliament when the
writ of treason was issued against the assassins;
and on the 17 th, as Lyon Herald, he appeared with
a trumpeter before the castle in the vain effort to
bring the garrison to terms. But whatever might
be his official duties, his sympathies were clearly on
the side of the reformers. Regarding the death of
Beaton he wrote, probably sometime in the following
year, his satire, the "Tragedie of the Cardinall"; and
in May, 1547, he was one of the inner circle of
those who, in the parish church of St. Andrews,
gave John Knox his unexpected but memorable call
to the ministry.
In 1548 Lyndsay was sent to Denmark to negotiate
a treaty of free trade in corn, and with the successful \
issue of this embassy he appears to have closed his
career as envoy to foreign courts. Henceforth he
seems to have devoted himself to poetical composi-
tion. In 1550 appeared what has been esteemed by
some critics the most pleasing of all his works,
"The Historie and Testament of Squyer Meldrum,"
22 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
a romance somewhat in the style of the ancient
heroic narratives, founded on the adventures of an
actual personage of his own day. And in 1553 he
finished his last and longest work, "The Monarche,
Ane Dialog betuix Experience and Ane Courteour
on the Miserabyll Estait of the World."
Once more he appears in history in the dignity of
his office as Lyon King. On i6th January, 1554-5,
he presided at a chapter of heralds convened at
Holyrood for the trial and punishment of William
Crawar, a messenger, for abuse of his function. But
before the i8th of April in the same year he had
passed away. By a letter of that date in the Privy
Seal Register it appears that his wife had predeceased
him, and that, in the absence of children, his estates
were inherited by his younger brother, Alexander
Lyndsay.
Four years later the Reformation, of which also he
may be said to have been the Lyon Herald, had
begun in earnest. John Knox had returned to Scot-
land, the assassins of Beaton had received pardon,
and the leaders of the new church which was to
rise out of the ashes of the old had assumed the
name of "The Congregation."
Such was the consistent career of the poet who, in
the words of Dryden, " lashed vice into reformation "
in Scotland. In high position, with everything to
lose and nothing to gain by the part he took, he
must be adjudged entire disinterestedness in his
efforts. Patriotism, the virtue which more than any
other has from century to century made the renown
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY, 23
of Scotland, must be acknowledged as his chief
motiv^. Of his "Dreme" one writer has said,
"We almost doubt if there is to be found any-
where except in the old Hebrew prophets a purer
or more earnest breathing of the patriotic spirit."
His attack, it is true, was directed, not against
the doctrines, but merely against the abuses of
the church, a fact which sufficiently accounts for
his freedom from persecution. There can be no
question, however, that but for the brilliant, burn-
ing satire of Lyndsay the later work of the
reformers would have proved infinitely more
arduous, and might have been indefinitely delayed.
Professor Nichol* has compared the service rendered
by Lyndsay in Scotland to that rendered in Holland
by Erasmus. All great movements probably have
had some such forerunner, from John the Baptist
downwards. At anyrate it is certain that when
Lyndsay laid down his pen the time was ripe for
Knox to mount the pulpit.
During the early troubles of the Reformation the
works of Lyndsay were, it is said, printed by stealth;
and Pitscottie states that an Act of Assembly ordered
them to be burned. Their popularity, nevertheless,
remained undiminished, and edition after edition
found its way into the hands of the people. The
best editions now available are that by George
Chalmers, three volumes, London, 1806, that of
the Early English Text Society by various editors,
* General introduction to Lyndsay's works, Early English
Text Society's edition.
24 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
1865-187 1, and the edition by David Laing, LL.D.,
three volumes, Edinburgh, 1879. The last is taken
in the present volume as the standard text.
Of Lyndsay's compositions "The Dreme" has
generally been considered the most poetical, and the
"Satyre of the Thrie Estaitis" the most important.
The former is an allegory in the fashion of Dante
and Chaucer, in which, after a prologue which has
been much admired for its descriptive charm, a
historical lesson is drawn from the abuse of power
by rulers of the past, and the political grievances
of Scotland are set boldly forth. To the latter
belongs the credit of being the earliest specimen
of the Scottish drama now in existence, the ground
having been previously occupied only by the old
mysteries and pageants, the " fairseis and clerk-playis "
mentioned by Sir Richard Maitland.* Technically
it is neither a morality-play nor a regular drama,
but what is known as an interlude: it has no regular
plot, and upon its stage real men and women move
about among allegorical personages. Its author, how-
ever, confined the term "interlude" to the burlesque
diversions which occupied the intervals of the main
action. "Lyndsay's play," says Chalmers, "carried
away the palm of dramatic composition from the
contemporary moralities of England till the epoch
of the first tragedy in Gorboduc and the first comedy
in Gammer Gurton's Needle." The work was more,
however, than a dramatic pioneer; it was the greatest
* In his poem on the marriage of Queen Mary with the
Dauphin.
Sl/i DAVID LYNDSAY. 25
blow which Lyndsay struck at the vices and follies
of his age, the ignorance and profligacy of the priest-
hood, and the insolence and unscrupulous ambition
of the courtiers ; and it is perhaps not too much
to say of it that by its performance again and again
before multitudes of all classes of the people it
prepared the way more than anything else for the
great movement of the Reformation in Scotland.
For the modern reader, apart from its merits as a
tour de force of satire, this work remains the most
vivid picture we possess of the grievances by which
the common people of Scotland were oppressed
during the last days of feudalism.
"The Monarche," a still longer poem, possesses
nothing like the interest of the " Satyre." In dialogue
form, it follows the historic fashion of an earlier time,
attempting to give a complete history of the human
race from the creation to the day of judgment. Gloom
and sadness reign throughout its pages, and notwith-
standing one or two fine descriptive pai:sages and the
exhibition of much learning and sagacious reflection,
it must be ranked among the less vital of its author's
works. An English version of "The Monarche,"
nevertheless, was repeatedly printed in London from
1566 onwards, and a translation into Danish was
published at Copenhagen in 1591.
"The Testament and Complaynt of the Kyngis
Papyngo " is a composition frequently referred to. It
opens with a prologue in praise of the makars, who,
from Chaucer to the writer's contemporary Bellcnden,
are named in order. In form of a fable — the death-
26 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
bed of the king's parrot, attended by the pye, a ._
canon regular, the raven, a black monk, and the
hawk, a holy friar — it satirizes mercilessly the vices
of the clergy and the abuses of the church.
Lyndsay's lesser productions are satires on minor
subjects, such as court patronage and the absur-
dities of female fashions, showing their author in a ;
lighter vein. But "Kitteis Confessioun" is another
hard hit at the church abuses of the time, and the
" Deploratioun of the Deith of Quene Magdalene"
possesses interest as a picture of a royal welcome in
the sixteenth century.
"The Tragedie of the Cardinall," apart from a
suggestion in the prologue, the appearance of Beaton's
ghost —
Ane woundit man, aboundantlie bledyng,
With vissage paill and with ane deidlye cheir —
displays no striking poetic power. The poem recounts
in detail, as by the mouth of the prelate himself, the
damaging part which Beaton had played in the con-
temporary history of Scotland, and it ends with serious
admonitions addressed respectively to prelates and to
princes to avoid the abuses which were then rampant
in the government of the church.
"The Historic of Squyer Meldrum" is written in
a different vein from the rest of Lyndsay's works.
As has already been said, it is modelled on the
gestes and heroic epics of an earlier century. The
narrative is lively, with vivid descriptive passages and
great smoothness of versification. "In all Froissart,"
says Dr. Merry Ross, "there is nothing more
Sm DAVID LYNDSAY. 27
delightful in picturesque details than the description
of the jousts between Meldrum and the English
knight Talbart on the plains of Picardy."
It has been the habit to regard Lyndsay in the
character rather of a reformer than of a poet, and
it cannot be doubted that his own purpose was to
edify rather than to delight. But the merit of a
satirist consists, not in his display of the more
delicate sort of poetic charm, but in the brilliance
and keenness of his satire. No critic can aver that in
these qualities Lyndsay was lacking. If evidence of
power in other fields be demanded, there are, accord-
ing to the estimate of Professor Nichol, passages in
"The Dreme," "Squyer Meldrum," and "The
Monarche," " esn'^cially in the descriptions of the
morning and evening voices of the birds, which, for
harmony of versification and grace of imagery, may
be safely laid alongside of any corresponding to
them in the works of his predecessors." But it is
as a satiric poet that he must chiefly be appraised, and
in this character he stands the greatest that Scotland
has produced. He remained popular for more than two
centuries because he sympathised with the sorrows of
the people and satirized the abuse of power by the
great. In this respect he was not excelled even by
his great successor, Robert Burns. For the reader
of the present day the interest of Lyndsay, apart
from the broad light which he throws upon the life
and manners of his time, lies in his shrewd common-
sense, his irresistible humour, vivacity, and dramatic
power, with the consciousness that behind these
.28 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
burns a soul of absolute honesty. But the first
value of his work, as of the work of every satiric
poet, consisted in its wholesome effect upon the
spirit of his age. With this fact in view it would
be difficult to formulate a better summing-up of
Lyndsay's titles to regard than that by i^cott in the
fourth canto of Marmion\ There, by a poetic license,
he is introduced in the character of Lyon Herald on
the eve of Flodden, sixteen years before he obtained
that office —
He was a man of middle age;
In aspect manly, grave, and sage.
As on king's errand come;
But in the glances of his eye
A penetrating, keen, and sly
Expression found its home;
The flash of that satiric rage
Which, bursting on the early stage.
Branded the vices of the age.
And broke the keys of Rome.
Still is thy name of high account
And still thy verse has charms,
Sir David Lindesay of the Mount,
Lord Lion King-at-arms !
THE DREME.
Epistil to the Kingis Grace.
YCHT potent Prince, of hie Imperial blude,
Unto thy Grace I traist it be weill knawin
My servyce done unto your Celsitude,
Quhilk nedis nocht at length for to be schawin ;
And thocht ' my youtheid now be neir ouer-blawin, ' though.
Excerst^ in servyce of thyne Excellence, = Exercised.
Hope hes me hechts ane gudlie recompense. 3 promised.
Quhen thowwes young I bure thee in myne arme
Full tenderlie, tyll thow begouth to gang 4; 4 began to go.
And in thy bed oft happits thee full warme, s wrapped.
With lute in hand, syne^, sweitlie to thee sang : ^ afterwards.
Sumtyme, in dansing, feiralie? I flang; 7 nimbly.
And sumtyme, playand farsis on the flure;
And sumtyme, on myne office takkand cure :
And sumtyme, lyke ane feind, transfigurate,
And sumtyme, lyke the greislie gaist of Gye^;
In divers formis oft-tymes disfigurate,
And sumtyme, dissagyist full plesandlye.
So, sen 9 thy birth, I have continewalyc
Bene occupyit, and aye to thy plesoure.
And sumtyme, Seware, Coppare, and Carvoure'",
8 Perhaps the Sir
Guy of romance.
9 since.
'o Butler, Cup-
bearer, and
Carver,
30
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' treasurer.
* usher.
3 loyalty.
4 Praise.
5 such.
6 able.
Thy purs-maister and secreit Thesaurare^
Thy Yschare^ aye sen thy natyvitie,
And of thy chahner cheiffe Cubiculare,
Quhilk, to this hour, hes keipit my lawties;
Lovyng4 be to the blyssit Trynitie
That sics ane wracheit worme hes maid so habyll^
Tyll sic ane Prince to be so greabyll !
But now thow arte, be influence naturall,
7 high of spirit. Hie of iugyne^, and rycht inquisityve
Of antique storeis, and deidis marciall ;
More plesandlie the tyme for tyll ouerdryve,
8 describe. I have, at length, the storeis done descry ve^
Of Hectour, Arthour, and gentyll Julyus,
Of Alexander, and worthy Pompeyus;
Of Jasone, and Medea, all at lenth,
Of Hercules the actis honorabyll.
And of Sampsone the supernaturall strenth,
9 true lovers. And of IciU lufFarisS storeis amiabyll ;
And oft-tymes have I feinyeit mony fabyll,
Of Troylus the sorrow and the joye.
And Seigis all of Tyir, Thebes, and Troye.
The propheceis of Rymour, Beid, and Marlyng,*
And of mony uther plesand storye.
Of the Reid Etin, and the Gyir Carlyng,t
* Many of the prophecies of The Rhymer, Bede, and Merlin
were printed in a small volume by Andro Hart at Edinburgh
in 1615.
t The Red Etin, a giant with three heads, was the subject of a
popular story mentioned in the Complaynt of Scotland. William
Motherwell has a poem "The Etin of Sillarwood." The Gyre
Carlin, or huge old woman, was the gruesome Hecate, or mother-
witch, of many peasant stories.
THE DREME.
31
Confortand thee, quhen that I saw thee sorye.
Now, with the supporte of the King of Glorye,
I sail thee schaw ane storye of the new.
The quhilk affore I never to thee schew.
But humilie I beseik thyne Excellence,
With ornate termis thocht I can nocht expres
This sempyll mater, for laik of eloquence;
Yit, nochtwithstandyng all my besynes.
With hart and hand my pen I sail addres
As I best can, and most compendious :
Now I begyn : the mater hapnit thus.
Prolog.
In-to the Calendis of Januarie,
Quhen fresche Phebus, be movyng circulair,
Frome Capricorne wes enterit in Aquarie,
With blastis that the branchis maid full bair,
The snaw and sleit perturbit all the air,
And flemit' Flora frome every bank and bus^,
Throuch supporte of the austeir Eolus.
1 banished.
2 bush.
Efter that I the lang wynteris nycht
Had lyne walkings, in-to my bed, allone, 3 lain waking.
Throuch hevy thocht, that no way sleip I mycht,
Rememberyng of divers thyngis gone :
So up I rose, and clethit me anone.
Be this, fair Tytane, with his lemis^ lycht, 4 beams.
Ouer all the land had spred his baner brycht.
32
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
■ quickly.
2 Yet fared I
forth, speeding
athwart.
3 divert, h'i.
shorten time.
4 hillside.
With cloke and hude I dressit me belyve',
With dowbyll schone, and myttanis on my handis ;
Howbeit the air was rycht penetratyve,
Yit fure I furth, lansing ouirthorte^ the landis
Toward the see, to schortes me on the sandis,
Because unblomit was baith bank and brayc*.
And so, as I was passing be the waye,
S disguised in
sad attire.
6 violent.
7 oppressed.
8 formerly.
I met dame Flora, in dule weid dissagysits,
Quhilk in-to May wes dulce and delectabyll ;
With stalwart^ stormis hir sweitnes wes supprisit^;
Hir hevynlie hewis war turnit in-to sabyll,
Quhilkis umquhile^ war to luffaris amiabyll.
Fled frome the froste, the tender flouris I saw
Under dame Naturis mantyll lurking law.
9 cursed.
The small fowlis in flokkis saw I flee,
To Nature makand greit lamentatioun.
Thay lychtit doun besyde me on ane tree,
Of thair complaynt I had compassioun ;
And with ane pieteous exclamatioun
Thay said, " Blyssit be Somer, with his flouris ;
And waryit9 be thow, Wynter, with thy schouris!"
»o frail.
" sufferest.
"Allace! Aurora," the syllie^° Larke can crye,
" Quhare hes thou left thy balmy liquour sweit
That us rejosit, we mounting in the skye?
Thy sylver droppis ar turnit in-to sleit.
O fair Phebus ! quhare is thy hoilsum heit ?
Quhy tholis" thow thy hevinlie plesand face
With mystic vapouris to be obscurit, allace !
THE DREME. 33
" Quhar art thow May, with June thy syster schene', 'f^'"''''''- seining.
Weill bordourit with dasyis of delyte?
And gentyll Julie, with thy mantyll grene,
Enamilit with rosis red and quhyte?
Now auld and cauld Januar, in dispyte,
Reififis^ frome us all pastyme and plesour. ''Robs.
Allace ! quhat gentyll hart may this indure ?
"0uersylit3 ar with Cloudis odious 3 Concealed.
The goldin skyis of the Orient,
Changeyng in sorrow our sang melodious,
Quhilk we had wount to sing with gude intent,
Resoundand to the hevinnis firmament :
Bot now our daye is changeit in-to nycht."
With that thay rais, and flew furth of my sycht.
Pensyve in hart, passing full soberlie
Unto the see, fordward I fure anone.
The see was furth, the sand wes smooth and drye;
Then up and doun I musit myne allone-t, 4 by myself.
Till that I spyit ane lyttill cave of stone
Heychs in ane craig : upwart I did approche 5 High.
But tarying^, and clam up in the roche : 6 without delay.
And purposit, for passing of the tyme.
Me to defende from ociositie?, 7 idleness.
With pen and paper to register in ryme
Sum mery mater of antiquitie :
Bot Idelnes, ground of iniquitie,
Scho maid so dull my spreitis, me within,
That I wyste nocht at quhat end to begin,
D in
34 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
But satt styll in that cove, quhare I mycht see
•rolling. 'pj^g wolteryng^ of the wallis, up and doun,
And this fals warldis instabilytie
Unto that see makkand comparisoun,
And of this warldis wracheit variatioun
To thame that fixis all thair hole intent,
Consideryng quho most had suld most repent.
So, with my hude my hede I happit warme,
And in my cloke I fauldit boith my feit ;
I thocht my corps with cauld suld tak no harme,
My mittanis held my handis weill in heit ;
2 scowling. -pj^g skowland- craig me coverit frome the sleit.
Thare styll I satt, my bonis for to rest,
Tyll Morpheus with sleip my spreit opprest.
3rude,boisterous. So, throw the bousteous3 blastis of Eolus,
And throw my walkyng on the nycht before,
And throw the seyis movyng marvellous,
4 bellow. Bg Neptunus, with mony route <> and rore,
Constrainit I was to sleip, withouttin more :
And quhat I dremit, in conclusioun
I sail you tell, ane marvellous Visioun.
[In the company of Dame Remembrance the poet visits the
centre of the earth, and there amid the torments of hell discovers
the "men of Kirk," from cardinals to friars, with historic charac-
ters, from Bishop Caiaphas and Mahomet to queens and dukes,
whose causes of punishment are described. He visits purgatory
and the place of unbaptised babes, then passing upward through
the four elements and the spheres of the seven planets, from that
of the moon, " Quene of the see and bewtie of the nycht," he
reaches the heaven of heavens, and beholds the throne of God,
with all its glorious surroundings. Upon leaving heaven Remem-
brance displays and describes the three parts of the earth to the
poet, and after affording him a view of paradise with its four
walls of fire, brings him to Scotland. Here he enquires the causes
of all the unhappiness which he sees. These are attributed to
political turpitude and mismanagement. As Remembrance is
speaking a third personage appears on the scene.]
THE DREME. 35
COMPLAYNT OF THE COMMOUNWEILL
OF Scotland.
And thus as we wer talking, to and fro,
We saw a bousteous berne cum ouir the bent', ' "'ffJid!'^ °''^"
Bot^' hors, on fute, als fast as he mycht go, = without.
Quhose rayment wes all raggit, revin, and rent,
With visage leyne, as he had fastit Lent :
And fordwart fast his wayis he did advance,
With ane rycht melancolious countynance,
With scrip on hip, and pyikstaff in his hand.
As he had purposit to passe fra hame.
Quod I, " Gude-man, I wald faine understand,
Geve that ye plesit, to wyt3 quhat were your name?" 3 know.
Quod he, " My Sonne, of that I think gret schame,
Bot, sen thow wald of my name have ane feilH, ■» knowledge.
Forsuith, thay call me John the Commounweill."
" Schir Commounweill, quho hes yow so disgysit?"
Quod I : "or quhat makis yow so miserabyll ?
I have marvell to se yow so supprysit^, s oppressed.
The quhilk that I have sene so honorabyll.
To all the warld ye have bene profitabyll,
And weill honourit in everilk^ natioun : * every.
How happinnis now your tribulatioun?"
"AUace!" quod he, "thow seis how it dois stand
With me, and quhow I am disherisit
Of all my grace, and mon ^ pass of Scotland, ^ n»"st.
And go, afore quhare I was cherisit.
Remane I heir, I am bot perysit^; ^T^tt ''*''*
For thare is few to me that takis tent9, 9 regard.
That garris '° me go so raggit, rcwin, and rent : '" causes.
36
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
I lost.
2 loyalty.
3 robbery.
4 tedious.
5 These lazy
sluggards.
" My tender freindis are all put to the flycht ;
For Policye is fled agane in France.*
My syster, Justice, almaist haith tynt' hir sycht,
That scho can nocht hald evinly the ballance.
Plane wrang is plane capitane of ordinance,
The quhilk debarris laute^ and reasoun ;
And small remeid is found for open treasoun.
" In-to the South, allace ! I was neir slane :
Ouer all the land I culd fynd no releif.
Almoist betuix the Mers and Lowmabane
I culde nocht knaw ane leill man be ane theif.
To schaw thair reifs, thift, murthour, and mischeif,
And vicious workis, it wald infect the air,
And als langsum^ to me for tyll declair.
" In-to the Hieland I could fynd no remeid,
Bot suddantlie I wes put to exile :
Thai sweir swyngeoriss thay tuke of me non heid,
Nor amangs thame lat me remane ane quhyle.
Als, in the Oute Ylis, and in Argyle,
Unthrift, sweirnes, falset, povertie, and stryfe
Pat Policye in dainger of hir lyfe.
"In the Lawland I come to seik refuge.
And purposit thare to mak my residence;
6 ?.f. personal got singularc Drofcit gart^ me soune disluee,
interest caused. o r- o o
And did me gret injuries and offence,
7 Quickly. And Said to me, 'Swyith?, harlote, hy thee hence,
8 cares, business. And in this countrc see thow tak no curis^.
So lang as my auctoritie induris.'
An allusion to the departure of the Regent xVIbany.
THE DREME.
37
' know.
" And now I may male no langer debait ;
Nor I wate' nocht quhome to I suld me mene^j^compiain.
For I have socht throw all the Spirituall stait,
Quhilkis tuke na compt for to heir me complene.
Thair ofificiaris, thay held me at disdene ;
For Symonie, he rewlis up all that rowte \
And Covatyce, that carle, gart bar me oute.
" Pryde haith chaist far frome thame Humilitie ;
Devotioun is fled unto the Freris ;
Sensuale plesour hes baneist Chaistitie ;
Lordis of religioun, thay go lyke seculeris,
Taking more compt in tellyng thair deneris^
Nor thai do of thair constitutioun.
Thus are thay blyndit be ambitioun.
3 money.
Fr. ddnier.
" Our gentyll men are all degenerat ;
Liberalitie and lawte boith ar lost,
And Cowardyce with lordis is laureat,
And knychtlie Curage turnit in brag and boast.
The civele weir misgydis everilk oist-*; 4 every host.
Thare is nocht ellis bot ilks man for hym-self; seach.
That garris me go, thus baneist lyke ane elf.
" Tharefor, adew : I may no langer tarye."
" Fair weill," quod I, " and with sanct Jhone to
1 ^ ,,, 6 St. John be
borrow^!" your surety.
Bot, wyt ye weill, my hart was wounder sarye^
Quhen Comounweill so sopit^ was in sorrow.
" Yit efter the nycht cumis the glaid morrow ;
Quharefor, I pray yow, schaw me in certane
Quhen that ye purpose for to cum agane,"
7 sorrowful.
8 steeped.
' above.
38 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
" That questioun, it sail be sone decydit,"
Quod he, "thare sail na Scot have confortyng
Of me tyll that I see the countre gydit
Be wysedome of ana gude auld prudent Kyng,
Quhilk sail delyte him maist, abone^ all thyng,
To put Justice tyll executioun,
And on Strang traitouris mak punitioun.
" Als yit to thee I say ane-uther thyng :
I see rycht weill that proverbe is full trew,
'Wo to the realme that hes ouer young ane King!'"
With that he turnit his bak, and said adew.
'°nd mountain, ^uer firth and fell^ rycht fast fra me he flew,
Quhose departyng to me was displesand.*
With that, Remembrance tuk me be the hand,
And sone, me-thocht, scho brocht me to the roche
And to the cove quhare I began to sleip.
With that, one schip did spedalye approche,
Full plesandlie saling apone the deip,
3 presently. And syncs did slake hir salis and gan to creip
4 opposite. Towart the land, anent-* quhare that I lay.
s a cruel fright, got, wyt yc wcill, I gat ane fellown frayS:
All hir cannounis sche leit craik of at onis :
Down schuke the stremaris frome the topcastell ;
^ Stones were tlie , . .
bullets of that Thay sparit nocht the poulder nor the stonis^;
age.
Thay schot thair boltis, and doun thair ankeris fell ;
7 shout. The marenaris, thay did so youte? and yell.
That haistalie I stert out of my dreme,
Half in ane fray, and spedalie past hame.
* From John the Commonweill, says Sibl)ald, it has been
suggested that Arbuthnot caught the first hint of his celebrated
John Bull.
THE DREME. 39
And lychtlie dynit, with lyste' and appetyte, 'pleasure.
Syne efter past in-tyll ane oratore,
And tuke my pen, and thare began to wryte
All the visioun that I have schawin afore.
Schir, of my dreme as now thou gettis no more,
Bot I beseik God for to send thee grace
To rewle thy realme in unitie and peace.
THE TESTAMENT AND COM-
PLAYNT OF OUR SOVERANE
LORDIS PAPYNGO.
intellect.
' Solomon-like.
3 writing.
4 every.
5 high.
Prolog.
Suppose I had ingyne' angelicall,
With sapience more than Salamonicall^
I not quhat mater put in memorie;
The poeitis auld, in style heroycall,
In breve 3 subtell termes rethorycall,
Of everHke4 mater, tragedie and storie,
So ornatHe, to thair heychs laude and glorie,
Haith done indyte; quhose supreme sapience
Transcendith far the dull intellygence
Of poeitis now in-tyll our vulgare toung.
For quhy? the bell of rethorick bene roung
Be Chawceir, Goweir, and Lidgate laureate.
Quho dar presume thir poeitis tyll impung
Quhose sweit sentence throuch Albione bene sung?
Or quho can now the workis countrafait
Of Kennedie with termes aureait,
Or of Uunbar, quhilk language had at large,
As may be sene in-tyll his Goldin Targe?
THE PAPYNGO.
41
Quintyn, Merser, Rowle, Henderson, Hay, and
Holland,*
Thocht thay be deid thair libellis bene levandS
Quhilkis to reheirs makeith redaris to rejose.
AUace for one quhilk lampe wes of this land,
Of eloquence the flowand balmy strand^
And in our Inglis rethorick the rose !
As of rubeis the charbunckle bene chose.
And as Phebus dois Cynthia precell.
So Gawane Dowglas, Byschope of Dunkell,
Had, quhen he wes in-to this land on lyves,
Abufe vulgare poeitis prerogatyve
Both in pratick and speculatioun.
I say no more; gude redaris may descryvet
His worthy workis in nowmer more than fyve.
And specallye the trew translatioun
Of Virgin, quhilk bene consolatioun
To cunnyng men, to knaw his gret ingyne,
Als weill in naturall science as devyne.
And in the courte bene present in thirs dayis
That ballattis brevis lustellie^ and layis,
Quhilkis tyll our Prince daylie thay do present.
Quho can say more than Schir James Inglis f sayis.
In ballattis, farses, and in plesand playis?
* Sir Gilbert Hay, Merser, and two Rovvles, one of Aberdeen
and one of Corstorphine, are mentioned in Dunbar's "Lament for
the Makaris." Henryson and Sir Richard Holland, the author
of "The Houlate," are well known. Sir John Rowle's "Cursing
vpon the Steilarisof his fowlis" is preserved in the Bannatyno MS.
t A chaplain at court, and reputed author of the " Complaynt
of Scotland," Inglis was made abbot of Culross by James V.
He was murdered by the baron of TuUialan a few months after
this mention of him.
' their books live.
2 stream.
3 alive.
4 describe.
5 these.
^ write
pleasantly.
42
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
But Culrose hes his pen maid impotent.
Kyd, in cunnyng and pratick rycht prudent,
And Stewarte,* quhilk desyrith ane staitly style,
Full ornate werkis daylie dois compyle.
speak, narrate. Stewart of Lorne wyll carpe ' rycht curiouslie ;
Galbraith, Kynlouch, quhen thay lyst tham applie
In-to that art, ar craftie of ingyne.
Bot now of lait is starte up haistelie
Ane cunnyng^ clerk quhilk wrytith craftelie,
Ane plant of poeitis callit Ballendyne,
Quhose ornat workis my wytt can nocht defyne.
Gett he in-to the courte auctorite
He wyll precell Quintyn and Kennedie.
2 skilful
3 though.
4 know.
5 garden.
6 every one.
7 ere.
S popinjay,
parrot.
9 writing.
"J banished.
" worth.
So, thochts I had ingyne, as I have none,
I watt"* nocht quhat to wryt, be sweit Sanct Jhone ;
For quhy? in all the garths of eloquence
Is no-thyng left bot barrane stok and stone ;
The poleit termes are puUit everilk one^
Be thir fornamit poeitis of prudence ;
And sen I fynd none uther new sentence
I sail declare, or? I depart yow fro,
The complaynt of ane woundit papingo^.
Quharefor, because myne mater bene so rude
Of sentence, and of rethorike denude.
To rurall folke myne dyting9 bene directit.
Far flemit'° frome the sycht of men of gude";
For cunnyng men, I knaw, wyll soune conclude
* A considerable number of poems bearing the colophon "quod
Stewart " are preserved by Bannatyne, but nothing is known of
their separate authorship.
THE PAPYNGO. 43
It dowe ' no-thyng bot for to be dejectit ; ' deserves.
And quhen I heir myne mater bene detractit
Than sail I svveir I maid it bot in mowis=^ ''jest.
To landwart lassis quhilks kepith kye and yowis^. ""ho'keep^idne
and ewes.
[The "Complaynt" begins with a homil)' on the text " Qiiho
clymmis to hycht, perforce his feit mon faill." To illustrate this
apophthegm the stoiy of the king's papyngo is told. The unfor-
tunate bird, climbing to the topmost twig of a tree in the royal
garden, is thrown to earth by a gust of wind, and hopelessly
injured on a stob of timber. In her last hour she addresses one
epistle to the king, deriving lessons to royalty from the chronicles
of Scotland, and another to her " brether of the court " upon the
text "Quho sittith moist hie sal fynd the sait most slidder."
The latter epistle ends with an adieu to Edinburgh, Stirling, and
Falkland, and the chief scene of the satire immediately ensues.]
Adew.
Adew, Edinburgh ! thou heych tryumphant toun,
Within quhose boundis rycht blythfull have I bene,
Of trew merchandis the rute of this regioun,
Most reddy to resave Court, King, and Quene !
Thy polecye and justice may be sene.
War devotioun, wysedome, and honestie,
And credence, tynt'*, thay mycht be found in thee. '"o«-
Adew, fair Snawdoun^! with thy touris hie, name for"
Thy Chapell Royall, park, and tabyll rounde!* '"^'"^"
May, June, and July walde 1 dwell in thee,
War I one man, to heir the birdis sounde
Quhilk doith agane thy royall roche redounde.
Adew, Lythquo^! quhose Palyce of plesance 6 Linlithgow.
Mycht be one patrone^ in Portingall or France! 'pattern.
* The curious earthworks about which the sports of the Knights
of the Round Table took place are still to be seen under the
Castle-hill at Stirling.
44
5//? DAVID LYNDSAY.
1 pleasant.
2 range in row.
3 wretched.
Fair-weill, Falkland ! the fortrace of Fyfe,
Thy polyte park, under the Lowmound Law !
Sum-tyme in thee I led ane lustye' lyfe,
The fallow deir, to see thame raik on raw^.
Court men to cum to thee, thay stand gret awe,
Sayand thy burgh bene of all burrowis baill3,
Because in thee thay never gat gude aill.
The Commonyng betuix the Papyngo and hir
holye executouris.
The Pye persavit the Papyngo in paine,
4 feigned to weep. He lychtit doun, and fenyeit him to greit'»:
" Sister," said he, " alace ! quho hes yow slane ?
I pray yow, mak provisione for your spreit,
^ goods. ° ^°^^ Dispone your geirs, and yow confes compleit.
I have power, be your contritioun,
6 faults. Of all your mys^ to geve yow full remissioun.
"I am," said he, "one Channoun regulare,
And of my brether Pryour principall :
My quhyte rocket my clene lyfe doith declare ;
The blak bene of the deith memoriall :
Quharefor I thynk your gudis naturall
Sulde be submyttit hole into my cure;
Ye know I am ane holye creature."
7 croaking.
8 a hawk.
The Ravin come rolpand^, quhen he hard the rair;
So did the Gled^, with mony pieteous pew;
And fenyeitlye thay contrafait gret cair.
" Sister," said thay, " your raklesnes we rew ;
Now best it is our juste counsall ensew.
Sen we pretend to heych promotioun,
Religious men, of gret devotioun."
THE PAPYNGO. 45
"I am ane blak Monk," said the rutlande' Ravin ;' croaking.
So said the Gled, " I am ane holy freir,
And hes power to bryng yow quyke to hevin.
It is Weill knawin my conscience bene full cleir;
^,„, ,,_,,.,, Til • ^ prayer for the
Ihe blak Bybill^ pronunce I sail perqueir^, dead.
. ^parcocur.
So tyll our brether ye will geve sum gude ;
God wat geve we hes 4 neid of lyves fade!" '^wthavr"
The Papyngo said, "Father, be the Rude,
Howbeit your rayment be religious lyke,
Your conscience, I suspect, be nocht gude.
I did persave quhen prevelye ye did pykes 5 pilfer.
Ane chekin from ane hen under ane dyke."
" I grant," said he. " That hen was my gude freind,
And I that chekin tuke bot for my teind.
" Ye knaw the faith be us mon be susteind ;
So be the Pope it is preordinate
That spirituall men suld leve upon thair teind :
Bot Weill wat I ye bene predestinate
In your extremis to be so fortunate.
To have sic holy consultatioun ;
Quharefore we mak yow exhortatioun :
" Sen dame Nature hes grantit yow sic grace,
Layser to mak confessioun generall,
Schaw furth your syn in haist, quhil ye haif space;
Syne of your geir mak one memoriall.
We thre sal mak your feistis funerall,
And with gret blys bury we sail your bonis,
o J ■> ' 6 servicesof thirty
Syne trentalls^ twenty trattyll? all at onis. ^ "luirr^uk'
off.'"
46
S//^ DAVID LYNDSAY.
" The roukis sail rair, that men sail on thame rew
And crye Conwienwratio Animarum.
' Tq'^ueak'.'^''^"^ ^^ Sail gar chehnis cheip ^ and geaslyngis pew,
2 Theoid Scottish Supposc the geis and hennis suld crye alarum:
a'ccofdii^^to And we sail serve Secundimi usum Saru?)i^,
Sarum. And mak you saif: we fynd Sanct Blase to borgh3,
^ as surety. Cryand for yow the cairfuU corrynogh*.
" And we sail syng about your sepulture
s the great creed. Sanct Mongois matynis and the mekle creids,
And syne devotely saye, I yow assure,
The auld Placebo bakwart, and the beid ;
And we sail weir for yow the murnyng weid
And, thocht your spreit with Pluto war profest,
Devotelie sail your diregie be addrest."
' graceful.
7 your mouth
across their
meadows.
' truly.
"Father," said scho, "your facunde^ wordis fair.
Full sore I dreid, be contrar to your dedis.
The wyffis of the village cryis with cair
Quhen thai persave your mowe ouirthort thar medis?.
Your fals consait boith duke and draik sore dreidis.
I marvell, suithlie^, ye be nocht eschamit
For your defaltis, beyng so defamit.
" It dois abhor, my pure perturbit spreit,
Tyll mak to yow ony confessioun.
I heir men saye ye bene one ypocrite
9 consistory court. Excmptit fromc the Senye9 and the Sessioun.
To put my geir in your possessioun.
That wyll I nocht, so help me Dame Nature !
•o charge. Nor of my corps I wyll yow geve no cure'°.
THE PAPYNGO.
47
" Bot, had I heir the nobyll Nychtingall,
The gentyll Ja, the Merle, and Turtur trew,
My obsequeis and feistis funerall
Ordour thay wald, with notis of the new.
The plesand Pown', most angellyke of hew,
Wald God I wer this daye with hym confest,
And my devyse- dewlie be hym addrest !
' peacock.
~ testament.
" The myrthfuU Maveis, with the gay Goldspink,
The lustye3 Larke, wald God thay war present! 3 pleasant.
My infortune, forsuith, thay wald forthink^, 4 regret.
And comforte me that bene so impotent.
The swyft Swallow, in pratticks moste prudent, 5 practice.
I wate scho wald my bledyng stem belyve^ fi quickly.
With hir moste verteous stone rostringityve."
" Compt me the cace, under confessioun,"
The Gled said proudlye to the Papingo,
"And we sail sweir, be our professioun,
Counsall to keip, and schaw it to no mo.
We thee beseik, or? thou depart us fro,
Declare to us sum causis reasonabyll
Quhy we bene haldin so abhominabyll.
7 ere.
" Be thy travell thou hes experience,
First, beand bred in-to the Orient,
Syne be thy gude servyce and delygence
To prencis maid heir in the Occident.
Thow knawis the vulgare pepyllis jugement
Quhare thou transcurrit^ the hote Meridionall,
Syne nyxt the Poill the plaige^ Septentrionall.
** passed to .and
fro.
9 region.
Lat. plaga.
48
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' by thy high
intelligence.
2 without lies.
"So, be thyne heych ingyne' superlatyve,
Of all countreis thou knavvis the qualiteis ;
Quharefore, I thee conjure, be God of lyve,
The veritie declare, withouttin leis^,
Quhat thou hes hard, be landis or be seis,
Of us kirkmen, boith gude and evyll reporte;
And quhow thay juge, schaw us, we thee exhorte."
3 mix, deal.
4 utter note.
■> severe.
" Father," said scho, " I catyve creature,
Dar nocht presume with sic mater to mells.
Of your caces, ye knaw, I have no cure \
Demand thame quhilk in prudence doith precell.
I maye nocht pewt, my panes bene so fellS;
And als, perchance, ye wyll nocht stand content
To knaw the vulgare pepyllis jugement.
6 a little. " Yit, wyll the deith alyte^ withdrawe his darte.
All that lyis in my memoryall
I sail declare with trew unfenyeit hart.
And first I saye to you in generall
The commoun peple sayith ye bene all
7 primitives. Dcgcnerit frome your holy pirmityvis^,
As testyfeis the proces of your lyvis.
8 preaching.
" Of your peirles prudent predecessouris
The beginnyng, I grant, wes verray gude :
Apostolis, martyres, virgines, confessouris,
The sound of thair excellent sanctitude
Was hard ouer all the warld, be land and flude,
Plantyng the faith, be predicatioun ^,
As Christe had maid to thame narratioun.
THE PAPYNGO. 49
"To fortyfie the faith thay tuke no feir
Afore prencis, preching full prudentlie;
Of dolorous deith thay doutit nocht the deir', • feared not the
The veritie declaryng ferventlie;
And martyrdome thay sufferit pacientlie :
Thay tuke no cure of land, ryches, nor rent;
Doctryne and deid war boith equivolent.
"To schaw at lenth thair workis wer gret wunder,
Thair myracklis thay wer so manifest.
In name of Christe thay hailit mony hounder^, ITundr'^s!^
Rasyng the dede, and purgeing the possest,
With perverst spreitis quhilkis had bene opprest.
The crukit ran, the blynd men gat thair ene,
The deifif men hard, the lypper war maid clene.
"The prelatis spousit wer with povertie.
Those dayis, quhen so thay flurisit in fame,
And with hir generits lady Chaistitie 3 begat.
And dame Devotioun, notabyll of name.
Humyll thay wer, simpyll, and full of schame.
Thus Chaistitie and dame Devotioun
Wer principall cause of thair promotioun.
" Thus thay contynewit in this lyfe devyne
Aye tyll thare rang 4, in Romes gret cietie, 4 reigned.
Ane potent prince was namit Constantyne ;*
Persavit the Kirk had spowsit Povertie,
With gude intent, and movit of pietie,
"Already in "The Dreme," Laing remarks, Lyndsay had
mentioned the fatal effects of the Emperor's liberality to Pope
Sylvester in conferring riches on the Church of Rome.
C III
so SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
Cause of divorce he fande betuix thame two,
And partit thame, withouttin wordis mo.
" Syne, schortUe, with ane gret solempnitie,
Withouttin ony dispensatioun,
The Kirk he spowsit with dame Propirtie,
Quhilk haistelye, be proclamatioun,
'caused. To Povertie gart' mak narratioun,
= eyes. Under the pane of peirsyng of hir eine%
That with the Kirk scho sulde no more be seine.
3 A.D. 314.335. " Sanct Sylvester that tyme rang Pope in Rome 3,
Quhilk first consentit to the mariage
Of Propirtie, the quhilk began to blome.
Taking on hir the cure with heych corrage.
Devotioun drew hir tyll one heremytage
Quhen scho considerit lady Propirtie
So heych exaltit in-to dignitie.
"O Sylvester, quhare was thy discretioun?
Quhilk Peter did renounce thow did resave.
Androw and Jhone did leif thair possessioun,
"rest. Thair schippis, and nettis, lynes, and all the lave^;
Of temporall substance no-thing wald thay have
Contrarious to thair contemplatioun,
Bot soberlye thair sustentatioun.
"Johne the Baptist went to the wyldernes.
Lazarus, Martha, and Marie Magdalene
Left heretage and guddis, more and les.
Prudent Sanct Paule thocht Propertie prophane ;
Frome toun to toun he ran, in wynde and rane,
THE PAPYNGO. 51
Upon his feit, techeing the word of grace,
And never was subjectit to ryches."
The Gled said, "Yit I heir no-thyng hot gude.
Proceid schortlye, and thy mater avance."
The Papyngo said, " Father, be the Rude,
It wer too lang to schaw the circumstance,
Quhow Propertie, with hir new alyance,
Grew gret with chylde, as trew men to me talde,
And bure two dochteris gudehe to behalde.
"The eldest dochter named was Ryches,
The secunde syster, Sensualytie ;
Quhilks did incres, within one schorte proces,
Preplesande^ to the Spiritualytie. i Very pleasing.
In gret substance and excellent bewtie
Thir Ladyis two grew so, within few yeiris.
That in the warlde wer non mycht be thair peiris.
" This royall Ryches and lady Sensuall
Frome that tyme furth tuke hole the governance
Of the moste part of the Stait Spirituall :
And thay agane, with humbyll observance,
Amorouslie thair wyttis did avance,
As trew luffaris, thair ladyis for to pleis.
God wate geve than^ thair hartis war at eis. "^ ^°4|j"°^^ '*^
" Soune thay foryet3 to study, praye, and preche, 3 forgot.
Thay grew so subject to dame Sensuall,
And thocht bot paine pure pepyll for to teche;
Yit thay decretit, in thair gret Counsall,
Thay wald no more to mariage be thrall,
52 SIJi DAVID LYNDSAY.
Traistyng surely tyll observe Chaistitie,
» by the word of. And all begylit quod ' Sensualytie.
" Apperandlye thay did expell thair wyffis
'bondage. That thay mycht leif at large, without thirlage=,
3 pleasant lives. At Hbertic to Icdc thair lustie lyffis3,
Thynkand men thrall that bene in mariage.
For new faces provokis new corrage.
Thus Chaistitie thay turne in-to delyte;
Wantyng of wyfifis bene cause of appetyte.
" Dame Chaistitie did steill away for schame,
4 purveyance, Frome tymc scho did persave thair proviance*.
management. -' r- ir
Dame Sensuall one letter gart proclame,
And hir exilit Italy and France.
^**'sett'iement!"° In Inglaude couthe scho get none ordinances.
Than to the kyng and courte of Scotlande
6 She marched. Scho markit hir^, withouttin more demande.
" Traistyng in-to that court to get conforte,
Scho maid hir humyll supplycatioun.
Schortlye thay said scho sulde get na supporte,
'TrS"hen ^ot bostit hir 7, with blasphematioun,
*To preistis go mak your protestatioun.
It is,' said thay, 'mony one houndreth yeir
8 entrance. Sen Chaistitic had ony entres^ heir.'
"Tyrit for travell, scho to the preistis past,
And to the rewlaris of religioun.
Of hir presens schortlye thay war agast,
Sayand thay thocht it bot abusioun
Hir to resave : so, with conclusion,
THE PAPYNGO. 53
"v With one avyce^ decretit and gave dome ' wunse^unani-
Thay walde resset no rebell out of Rome. '"°'"'^-
" ' Sulde we resave that Romanis hes refusit,
And baneist Inglande, Italye, and France,
For your flattrye, than wer we weill abusit^ ^ greatly abused.
Passe hyne3,' said thay, ' and fast your way avance, 3 hence.
Amang the nonnis go seik your ordinance;
For we have maid aith of fidelytie
To dame Ryches and Sensualytie.'
** Than paciently scho maid progressioun
Towarde the nonnis, with hart syching* full sore. < sighing.
Thay gaif hir presens, with processioun,
Ressavand hir with honour, laud, and glore,
Purposyng to preserve hir ever-more.
Of that novelliss come fo dame Propertie, 5 news.
To Ryches, and to Sensualytie;
" Quhilkis sped thame at the post rycht spedalye,
And sett ane seage proudlye about the place.
The sillye^ nonnis did yeild thame haistelye, ^weak.
And humyllye of that gylt askit grace,
Syne gave thair bandis of perpetuall peace.
Ressavand thame, thay kest up wykkets wyde^: *^^oors.'
Than Chaistytie walde no langer abyde.
" So for refuge, fast to the freris scho fled ;
Quhilks said thay wald of ladyis tak no cure."
"Quhare bene scho now?" than said the gredy Gled.
" Nocht amang yow," said scho, " I yow assure.
I traist scho bene upon the Borrow-mure
54
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' South of.
2 lament.
3 armed.
Besouth' Edinburgh, and that rycht mony menis%
Profest amang the Systeris of the Schenis.*
•'Thare hes scho found hir mother Povertie,
And Devotioun, hir awin syster carnall.
Thare hes scho found Faith, Hope, and Charitie,
Togidder with the Vertues Cardinall.
Thare hes scho found ane convent yit unthrall
To dame Sensuall, nor with riches abusit ;
So quietlye those ladyis bene inclusit."
The Pyote said, " I dreid, be thay assailyeit,
Thay rander thame, as did the holy nonnis."
"Doute nocht," said scho, "for thay bene so artalyeits,
Thay purpose to defend thame with thair gunnis.
Reddy to schute thay have sax gret cannounnis.
Perseverance, Constancye, and Conscience,
Austerytie, Laubour, and Abstynance.
" To resyste subtell Sensualytie
Strongly thay bene enarmit, feit and handis,
Be Abstynence, and keipith Povertie,
Contrar Ryches and all hir fals servandis.
4 a cannon braced Thay havc anc boumbard braissit up in handis-*
up in hoops. •' ^
To keip thair porte, in myddis of thair clois,
Quhilk is callit, Domine custodi nos ;
" Within quhose schote thare dar no enemeis
5 hard blows. Approchc thair place, for dreid of dyntis doures.
* A convent founded on the Burgh-muir by the Countess of
Caithness for Dominican nuns of the reformed order of St.
Catherine of Sienna, from whom the place got its name of Siennes
or Sheens.
THE PAPYNGO.
55
Boith nycht and daye thay wyrk, lyke besye beis,
For thair defence reddye to stande in stoure% 'storm.
And hes sic watcheis on thair utter toure
That dame Sensuall with seage dar not assailye,
Nor cum within the schote of thair artailye^" ^aniiiery.
The Pyote said, "Quhareto sulde thay presume
For to resyste sweit Sensualytie,
Or dame Ryches, quhilkis reularis bene in Rome?
Ar thay more constant, in thair qualytie,
Nor the prencis of Spiritualytie,
Quhilkis plesandlye, withouttin obstakle,
Haith thame resavit in their habitakle^? 3 dwelling.
" Quhow long, traist ye, those ladyis sail remane
So solytar, in sic perfectioun?"
The Papingo said, "Brother, in certane-*, 4 assuredly.
So lang as thay obey correctioun,
Cheisyngs thair heddis be electioun, s choosing.
Unthrall to Ryches or to Povertie,
Bot as requyrith thair necessitie.
" O prudent prelatis, quhare was your presciance,
That tuke on hand tyll observe Chaistitie,
But^ austeir lyfe, laubour, and abstenance? e without.
Persavit ye nocht the gret prosperitie
Apperandlye to cum of Propertie?
Ye knaw gret cheir, great eais, and ydelnes
To Lychorie was mother and maistres."
"Thow ravis unrockit^," the Ravin said, "be the Rude, ' reckless.
So to reprove Ryches or Propertie.
/
56
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' blame.
= door.
3 preaching.
4 leapers over
wall.
5 innocent.
* gourmand.
Abraham, and Ysaac war ryche, and verray gude;
Jacobe and Josephe had prosperitie."
The Papingo said, "That is verytie.
Ryches, I grant, is nocht to be refusit,
Providyng alwaye it be nocht abusit."
Than laid the Ravin ane replycatioun.
Syne said, " Thy reasone is nocht worth ane myte.
As I sail prove, with protestatioun
That no man talc my wordis in dispyte.
I saye, the temporall prencis hes the wyte^
That in the Kirk sic pastours dois provyde
To governe saulis, that not tham-selfis can gyde.
" Lang tyme efter the Kirk tuke propertie,
The prelatis levit in gret perfectioun,
Unthrall to ryches or sensualytie,
Under the Holy Spreitis protectioun,
Orderlye chosin be electioun.
As Gregore, Jerome, Ambrose, and Augustyne,
Benedict, Bernard, Clement, Cleit, and Lyne.
"Sic pacient prelatis enterit be the porte^,
Plesand the peple be predicatiouns.
Now dyke-lowparis4 dois in the Kirk resort.
Be symonie, and supplycatioun
Of prencis be thair presentatioun.
So sillyes saulis, that bene Christis scheip,
Ar gevin to hungrye gormande^ wolfis to keip.
" No marvell is thocht we religious men
Degenerit be, and in our lyfe confusit :
THE PAPYNGO.
SI
Bot sing, and drynk ; none uther craft we ken,
Our spirituall fatheris hes us so abusit.
Agane our wyll those treukouris^ bene intrusit. »trucksters.
Lawit^ men hes now reHgious men in cur is; = Lay, unlearned.
Profest virgenis in keipyng of strong huris.
"Prencis, prencis, quhar bene your heych prudence
In dispositioun of your beneficeis?
The guerdonyng of your courticiences 3 court-foiiowing.
Is sum cause of thir gret enormyteis.
Thare is one sorte wattand^, lyke houngre fleis, Awaiting.
For spirituall cure, thocht thay be no-thing abyll,
Quhose gredie thristiss bene insaciabyll. s thirst.
" Prencis, I pray yow, be no more abusit,
To verteous men havyng so small regarde.
Quhy sulde vertew, throuch flattrye, be refusit,
That men for cunnyng^ can get no rewarde?
Allace ! that ever one braggar or ane barde,
Ane hure-maister, or commoun hasarture^,
Sulde in the Kirk get ony kynde of cure !
6 skill.
7 gamester.
"War I one man worthy to weir ane croun.
Aye quhen thare vakit^ ony beneficeis,
I suld gar call ane congregatioun,
The principall of all the prelaceis,
Moste cunnyng clerkis of universiteis,
Moste famous fatheris of religioun.
With thair advyse mak dispositioun.
" I suld dispone all offices pastorallis
Tyll doctouris of devynitie, or jure 9;
8 fell vacant.
9 taw.
58
S/J? DAVID LYNDSAY.
And cause dame Vertew pull up all hir saillis,
Quhen cunnyng men had in the Kirk moist cure ;
Gar lordis send thair sonnes, I yow assure,
To seik science, and famous sculis frequent;
Syne thame promove that wer moste sapient.
' parson.
2 lose.
3 wish.
" Gret plesour wer to heir ane byschope preche,
One deane, or doctour in divinitie,
One abbote quhilk could vveill his convent teche,
One persoun' flowing in phylosophie.
I tyne^ my tyme to wys3 quhilk wyll nocht be.
War nocht the preaching of the Begging Freris,
Tynt war the faith amang the seculeris."
4 worthy.
5 coarse white
woollen.
"As for thair precheing," quod the Papingo,
" I thame excuse, for quhy, thay bene so thrall
To Propertie, and hir ding* dochteris two,
Dame Ryches, and fair lady Sensuall,
That may nocht use no pastyme spiritually
And in thair habitis thay tak sic delyte
Thay have renuncit russat and raploch quhytes,
7«Sdo?h. "Cleikand^ to thame skarlote and crammosie?,
8 meniver,^mar- With mcnevcr, martrik, grice, and ryche armyne^.
fire^™'"^ Thair lawe hartis exaultit ar so hie,
9 pain. To see thair papale pompe it is ane pyne9.
'o fringes. Morc rychc arraye is now, with frenyeis^° fyne,
"trappings. Upon the bardyng" of ane byscheopis mule,
Nor ever had Paule or Peter agane Yule.
" Syne fair ladyis thair chene may not eschape,
Dame Sensuall so sic seid haith in tham sawin.
THE PAPYNGO. 59
Les skaith' it war, with lycence of the Pape, 'hurt.
That ilke^ prelate one wyfe had of his awin, =each.
Nor se thair bastardis ouirthorts the countre blawin; 3 athwart.
For now, be* thay be weill cumin frome the scuHs,'' by the time that.
Thay fall to work as thay war commoun bullis."
" Pew," quod the Gled, " thow prechis all in vaine :
Ye seculare floks hes of our cace no curis."
" I grant," said scho ; " yit men wyll speik agane,
Quhow ye haif maid a hundreth thousand huris
Quhilkis nevir had bene war not your lychorous luris.
And geve I lee 5, hartlye I me repent; 5 if i He.
Was never bird, I watt, more penitent."
Than scho hir shrave, with devote contynance,
To that fals Gled quhilk fenyeit hym one freir;
And quhen scho had fulfyllit hir pennance.
Full subtellye at hir he gan inqueir :
" Cheis yow," said he, " quhilk of us brether heir
Sail have of all your naturall geir the curis.
Ye knaw none bene more holye creaturis."
" I am content," quod the pure Papingo,
"That ye frier Gled, and Corby ^ monk, your brother, ^ ^>;^"orbeau.
Have cure of all my guddis, and no mo,
Sen at this tyme freindschip I fynd non uther."
"We salbe to yow trew, as tyll our mother,"
Quod thay, and sweir tyll fulfyll hir intent.
" Of that," said scho, " I tak ane instrument."
The Pyote said, "Quhat sail myne ofifice bee?"
"Ouirman?," said scho, "unto the tother two." /Overman.
/
6o
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
«Owl.
^ mantle.
3 pure eyes.
4 Bat.
5 burnished.
6 Cuckoo.
7 ivory.
The rowpand Revin said, "Sweit syster, lat see
Your holy intent; for it is tyme to go."
The gredie Gled said, "Brother, do nocht so;
We wyll remane, and haldin up hir hede.
And never depart from hir till scho be dede."
The Papingo thame thankit tenderlye,
And said, "Sen ye have tane on yow this cure.
Depart myne naturall guddis equalye,
That ever I had or hes of dame Nature,
First, to the Howlet^ indigent and pure,
Quhilk on the daye, for schame, dar nocht be sene;
Tyll hir I laif my gaye galbarte^ of grene.
" My brycht depurit ene3, as christall cleir,
Unto the Bak^ ye sail thame boith present;
In Phebus presens quhilk dar nocht appeir.
Of naturall sycht scho bene so impotent.
My birneists beik I laif, with gude entent,
Unto the gentyll, pieteous Pellicane,
To helpe to peirs hir tender hart in twane.
" I laif the Goik^, quhilk hes no sang bot one,
My musyke, with my voce angelycall;
And to the Guse ye geve, quhen I am gone.
My eloquence and toung rhetoricall.
And tak and drye my bonis, gret and small,
Syne close thame in one cais of ebure^ fyne.
And thame present onto the Phenix syne,
" To birne with hir quhen scho hir lyfe renewis.
8 without doubt. In Arabye ye sail hir fynde but weir^,
'rose-red, purple,
and cinnabar.
THE PAPYNGO. 6l
And sail knaw hir be hir moste hevinly hewis,
Gold, asure, gowles, purpour, and synopeir'.
Hir dait is for to leif fyve houndreth yeir.
Mak to that bird my commendatioun.
And als, I mak yow supplycatioun,
" Sen of my corps I have yow gevin the cure,
Ye speid yow to the court, but tareyng,
And tak my hart, of perfyte portrature.
And it present unto my Soverane Kyng :
I wat he wyll it clois in-to one ryng.
Commende me to his Grace, I yow exhorte,
And of my passion mak hym trew reporte.
"Ye thre my trypes sail have, for your travell^, » labour.
With luffer and lowng3, to part equale amang yow ; 3 liver and lung.
Prayand Pluto, the potent prince of hell,
Geve ye failye, that in his feit he fang^ yow. 4 seize.
Be to me trew, thocht I no-thyng belang yow.
Sore I suspect your conscience be too large."
" Doute nocht," said they, "we tak it with the charge."
"Adew, brether!" quod the pure Papingo;
" To talking more I have no time to tarye ;
Bot, sen my spreit mon fras my body go, 5 must from.
I recommend it to the Queue of Farye,
Eternallye in-tyll hir court to carye.
In wyldernes among the holtis hore^." 6 the woods hoar.
Than scho inclynit hir hed, and spak no more.
Plungit in-tyll hir mortall passioun.
Full grevouslie scho gryppit to the ground.
62 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
It war too lang to mak narratioun
1 sting and shock. Of sychis sorc, with mony stang and stound^.
Out of hir wound the blude did so abound,
One compas round was with hir blude maid reid :
2 death. Without rcHieid, thare wes no-thyng bot dede^.
And be scho had In Manus tuas said,
Extinctit wer hir naturall wyttis fyve;
Hir heid full softlye on hir schulder laid,
3 pungent. Syne yeild the spreit, with panes pungityves.
4 to pull and tear, -phe Ravin began rudely to rug and ryve*,
s gluttonlike. pull gomiondlykes, his emptie throte to feid.
" Eit softlye, brother," said the gredy Gled :
" Quhill scho is hote, depart hir evin amang us.
6 reach. Tak thow one half, and reik^ to me ane-uther.
In-tyll our rycht, I wat, no wycht dar wrang us."
^'i28°b.wtisht. The Pyote said, "The feind resave the fouther?!
Quhy mak ye me stepbarne, and I your brother?
8 beshrew, curse. Ye do me wrang, schir Gled, I schrew^ your harte."
"Tak thare," said he, "the puddyngis for thy parte."
Than, wyt ye weill, my hart wes wounder sair
^''dh-wi'lig ^^^ to behalde that dolent departyng9,
Hir angell fedderis fleying in the air.
Except the hart, was left of hir no-thing.
The Pyote said, "This pertenith to the Kyng,
Quhilk tyll his Grace I purpose to present."
"Thow," quod the Gled, "sail faill of thyne entent."
'°i'rope,'-fS The Revin said, "God! nor I rax in ane raipe^°
me hang for it. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^j^j^ ^^jj ^^^j^^^. ^^^^ ^^ dukc !"
THE PAPYNGO.
63
The Pyote said, "Plene' I nocht to the Pape 'Complain.
Than in ane smedie I be smorif^ with smuke." = smothered
With that the Gled the pece claucht in his cluke3,
And fled his way: the lave 4, with all thair mycht, -t the rest
To chace the Gled, flew all out of my sycht.
3 clutched in his
claw.
Now have ye hard this lytill tragedie.
The sore complent, the testament, and myschance
Of this pure bird quhilk did ascend so hie.
Beseikands yow excuse myne ignorance
And rude indyte^, quhilk is nocht tyll avance^.
And to the quair^, I geve commandiment,
Mak no repair quhair poetis bene present.
5 Beseeching.
6 composition.
7 to be put
forward.
8 quire, book.
Because thow bene
But Rethorike, so rude,
Be never sene
Besyde none other buke,
With Kyng, nor Quene,
With lord, nor man of gude^.
With coit unclene,
Clame kynrent'° to sum cuke;
Steil in ane nuke
Quhen thay lyste on thee luke.
For smell of smuke
Men wyll abhor to beir thee.
Heir I manesweir" thee;
Quhairfor, to lurke go leir'^ thee.
9 worth.
'° kindred.
" forswear.
'2 learn.
in the field.
THE JUSTING BETUIX JAMES
WATSOUN AND JHONE
BARBOUR.*
In Sanct Androis on WTiitsoun IMonnunday
Twa campionis thair manheid did assay,
Past to the barres, enarmit heid and handis.
Was never sene sic justing in no landis.
In presence of the Kingis Grace, and Quene,
Quhare mony lustie lady mycht be sene,
!^^"'s^t^made Mony anc knicht, barroun, and banrent^
Come for to se that awfull Tornament.
The ane of thame was gentill James Watsoun,
And Jhone Barbour the uther campioun.
Unto the King thay wer famiharis,
And of his chalmer boith cubicularis.
James was ane man of greit inteUigence,
* This burlesque is said to have been written for the enter-
tainment of the court upon occasion of the home-coming of Mary
of Loraine in 1538. As the "Dreme" had been a political
satire, and the "Testament of the Papyngo" a satire upon church
abuses, this, like the " Contemptioun of Syde Taillis," was a satire
on a social fashion. Chalmers mentions an anterior English
poem, " The Tumament of Tottenham, or the wooing, winning,
and wedding of Tibbe, the Reeve's daughter," printed in Percy's
Reliqius, as a similar burlesque upon the custom of the tourney ;
but an example nearer home is to found in Dunbar's "Justis
betuix the Tailyour and the Sowtar." Watsoun and Barbour
were, according to the Treasurer's Accounts, actual personages
in the royal household.
THE JUSTING. 65
Ane medicinar^ ful of experience; 'physician.
And Jhone Barbour, he was ane nobill leche^ = surgeon.
Crukit carlinnis, he wald gar 3 thame get speche. ' hlwo°i1r^^
From tyme thay enterit war into the feild
Full womanlie thay weildit speir and scheild,
And wichtlie waiffit^ in the -nynd thair heillis, * wav^
Hobland lyke cadgeriss r)'dand on thair creillis; s hawkers.
But ather ran at uther with sic haist
That they could never thair speir get in the reist.
Quhen gentill James trowit best with Jhone to meit,
His speir did fald among his horsis feit:
I am richt sure gude James had bene undone,
War nocht that Jhone his marke tuke be the mone.
Quod Jhone, "Howbeit thou thinkis my leggis lyke
rokkis^ ''^'^•
My speir is gude; now keip ye fra my knokkis."
"Tar>'," quod James, "ane quhyle, for be my thrift 7^ ^y^^^^'
The feind ane thing I can se bot the lift^." s the heavens.
"No more can I," quod Jhone, "be Goddis breid9,' by the altar.
I see na-thing except the steipill held.
Yit, thocht thy braunis be lyk twa barrow-trammis,
Defend thee, man!" Than ran thay to, lyk rammis.
At that rude rink^° James had bene strykin down "'^^^'
War nocht that Jhone for feirsnes fell in swoun ;
And r}'cht sa James to Jhone had done greit deir", "hurt.
W^er not amangis his hors feit he brak his speir.
Quod James to Jhone, "Yit for our ladps saikis,
Lat us togidder straik three market straikis"." strokes.
"I had," quod Jhone, "that sail on thee be wrokin's!" n^Teaked.
Bot or ^4 he spurrit his hors his speir was brokin. "'^^
From t>Tne with speiris nane could his marrow's meit "s "^t*^
F III
66
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
2 struck.
James drew ane swerd with ane richt awfull spreit,
• reached him a ^^^ ^^^ ^.jj j}^Q„g^ ti| ^aif raucht him ane xouV.
Johnis swerd was roustit, and wald no way cam out.
Than James leit dryfe at Jhone with boith his fistis.
He mist the man, and dang^ upon the lystis;
And with that straik he trowit that Jhone was slane.
His swerd stak fast, and gat it never agane.
Be this, gude Jhone had gottin furth his sword.
And ran to James with mony awfull word.
"My furiousness, for suiths, now sail thou find!"
Straikand at James his swerd flew in the wind.
Than gentill James began to crack 4 greit wordis.
"Allace!" quod he, "this day for fait of swordis."
Than ather ran at uther with new raicis.
With gluifiss of plait thay dang at utheris facis.
Quha wan this feild na creature culd ken^,
Till at the last Johne cryit, "Fy! red? the men."
"Yea! red," quod James, "for that is my desyre;
It is ane hour sen I began to tyre."
8 by the time that. Sonc be^ thay had endit that royall rink,
Into the feild micht no man stand for stink.
Than every man, that stude on far, cryit, Fy !
Sayand adew; for dirt partis company.
Thair hors, harnis, and all geir9, wes so gude,
Lovyng^° to God! that day was sched no blude.
3 in truth.
4 speak.
5 gloves.
6 know.
7 separate,
9 belongings
'° Praise.
QUOD LYNDESAY, AT COMMAND OF KING
JAMES THE FYFT.
KITTEIS CONFESSIOUN.
The Curate, and Kittie.
The Curate Kittie culd confesse,
And scho tald on baith mair and lesse.
Quhen scho was telland as scho wist',
The Curate Kittie wald have kist;
Bot yit ane countenance he bure
Degeist^, devote, daine^, and demure;
And syne began hir to exempne^.
He wes best at the efter game.
Quod he, "Have ye na wrangous geirs?"
Quod scho, " I staw^ ane pek of beir."
Quod he, "That suld restorit be,
Tharefor delyver it to me.
Tibbie and Peter bad me speir^;
Be my conscience, thay sail it heir."
Quod he, "Leve ye in lecherie?"
Quod scho, "Will Leno mowit^ me."
Quod he, "His wyfe that sail I tell.
To mak hir acquentance with my-sell."
Quod he, "Ken9 ye na heresie?"
"I wait nocht'° quhat that is," quod sche.
Quod he, "Hard ye na Inglis bukis?"*
* The writings of the Reformers were, before 1560, printed in
England and on the Continent. The Bible, in particular, was
for this reason known as " the English Book."
« wished.
2 grave.
3 modest.
4 examine.
5 goods.
6 stole.
7 enquire.
" played with.
9 know.
'o I know not.
68
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' know.
2 hap, event.
3 the third of a
penny.
4 Though.
5 much.
Quod scho, "My maister on thame lukis."
Quod he, " The bischop that sail knaw,
For I am sworne that for to schaw."
Quod he, "What said he of the King?"
Quod scho, " Of gude he spak na-thing."
Quod he, "His Grace of that sail wit^;
And he sail lose his lyfe for it."
Quhen scho in mynd did mair revolve.
Quod he, "I can nocht you absolve,
Bot to my chalmer cum at even
Absolvit for to be and schrevin."
Quod scho, " I wyll pas tyll ane-uther.
And I met with Schir Andro,* my brother,
And he full clenely did me schryve.
Bot he wes sumthing talkatyve;
He speirit mony strange case^,
How that my lufe did me inbrace,
Quhat day, how oft, quhat sort, and quhare?
Quod he, 'I wald I had bene thare.'
He me absolvit for ane plak3,
Thocht4 he na pryce with me wald mak ;
And mekils Latyne he did mummill,
I hard na-thing bot hummill bummill.
He schew me nocht of Goddis word,
Quhilk scharper is than ony sword,
And deip intill our hart dois prent
Our syn, quharethrow we do repent.
He pat me na-thing into feir,
Quharethrow I suld my syn forbeir;
He schew me nocht the maledictioun
"Sir" was by courtesy the ordinary title of churchmen.
KITTEIS CONFESSIOUN.
69
Of God for syn, nor the afflictioun
And in this lyfe the greit mischeif
Ordanit to punische hure and theif j
Nor schew he me of helUs pane,
That I mycht feir, and vice refraine ;
He counsaUt me nocht till abstene,
And leid ane holy lyfe, and clene.
Of Christis blude na-thing he knew.
Nor of His promisses full trew.
That saifis all that wyll beleve,
That Sathan sail us never greve.
He teichit me nocht for till traist
The confort of the Haly Ghaist.
He bad me nocht to Christ be kynd',
To keip His law with hart and mynd,
And lufe and thank His greit mercie,
Fra syn and hell that savit me ;
And lufe my nichtbour as my-sell.
Of this na-thing he culd me tell,
Bot gave me pennance, ilk ane day^
Ane Ave Marie for to say.
And Fridayis fyve na fische to eit,
(Bot butter and eggis ar better meit),
And with ane plak to buy ane messe
Fra drounkin Schir Jhone Latynelesse.
Quod he, 'Ane plak I wyll gar 3 Sandie
Give thee agane, with handle dandie.'
Syne-* into pilgrimage to pas —
The verray way to wantounes.
Of all his pennance I was glaid,
I had them all perqueirs, I said.
' kindred.
2 each day.
3 cause.
4 Afterwards.
5 by heart.
70
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' "five and six,"
terms in dice
play.
2 Collars.
3 coals.
4 lard.
5 grains.
6 handfuls.
7 without.
9 dream.
»o deceive.
" entice.
To mow and steill I ken the pryce,
I sail it set on cincq and syce^
Bot he my counsale culd nocht keip;
He maid him be the fyre to sleip,
Syne cryit, 'CoUeris^ beif and coilliss,
Hois, and schone with dowbill soillis,
Caikis and candill, creische'* and salt,
Curniss of meill, and luiffillis^ of malt,
Wollin and linning, werp and woft —
Dame ! keip the keis of your woU loft ! '
Throw drink and sleip maid him to raif;
And swa with us thay play the knaif."
Freiris sweiris be thair professioun
Nane can be saif but 7 this Confessioun,
And garris all men understand
That it is Goddis awin^ command.
Yit it is nocht but mennis drame^.
The pepill to confound and schame.
It is nocht ellis but mennis law.
Maid mennis mindis for to knaw,
Quharethrow thay syle'° thame as thay will,
And makis thair law conforme tharetill,
Sittand in mennis conscience
Abone Goddis magnificence;
And dois the pepill teche and tyste"
To serve the Pape the Antechriste.
To the greit God Omnipotent
Confess thy syn, and sore repent;
And traist in Christ, as wrytis Paule,
Quhilk sched his blude to saif thy saule;
For nane can thee absolve bot He,
KITTEIS CONFESSIOUN.
71
Nor talc away thy syn frome thee.
Gif of gude counsall thow hes neid,
Or hes nocht leirnit weill thy Creid,
Or wickit vicis regne in thee,
The quhilk thow can nocht mortifie,
Or be in desperatioun,
And wald have consolatioun,
Than till ane preichour trew thow pas,
And schaw thy syn and thy trespas.
Thow neidis nocht to schaw him all,
Nor tell thy syn baith greit and small,
Quhilk is unpossible to be;
Bot schaw the vice that troubillis thee,
And he sail of thy saule have reuth,
And thee instruct in-to the treuth,
And with the Word of Veritie
Sail confort and sail counsall thee,
The sacramentis schaw thee at lenth,
Thy lytle faith to stark and strenth',
And how thow suld thame richtlie use.
And all hypocrisie refuse.
Confessioun first wes ordanit fre
In this sort in the Kirk to be.
Swa to confes as I descry ve%
Wes in the gude Kirk primityve ;
Swa wes confessioun ordanit first,
Thocht Codrus* kytes suld cleve and birst.
* Perhaps the ill-natured rhetorician mentioned by Virgil,
Eclogiies, V. and vii.
' to make stout
and strong.
2 describe.
3 belly.
SQUYER MELDRUMIS
JUSTYNG.*
' array.
2 Making war.
3 pikes.
4 this news.
5 view, visit.
6 chose.
Hary the Aucht, King of Ingland,
That tyme at Caleis wes lyand,t
With his triumphand ordinance',
Makand weir^ on the realme of France.
The King of France his greit armie
Lay neir hand by in Picardie,
Quhair aither" uther did assaill.
Howbeit thair was na sic battaill,
Bot thair wes dayUe skirmishing,
Quhare men of armis brak monie sting 3.
Quhen to the Squyer Meldrum
Wer tauld thir noveUis^ all and sum,
He thocht he wald vesies the weiris;
And waillit^ furth ane hundreth speiris,
And futemen quhilk wer bauld and stout.
The maist worthie of all his rout.
Quhen he come to the King of France
* The hero of the romance of which this forms the most impor-
tant episode, was an actual contemporary of Lyndsay, some of
whose romantic adventures are referred to by Pitscottie in his
History, p. 129. Upon the conclusion of his youthful adventures
Meldrum settled in Kinross, where he owned the estate of Cleish
and Binns ; and being appointed deputy of Patrick, Lord Lyndsay,
Sheriff of Fife, is said to have administered physic as well as law
to his neighbours.
t Henry VIIL lay at Calais in July, 1513.
SQUYER MELD RUM IS fUSTYNG.
73
He wes sone put in ordinance:
Richt so was all his companie
That on him waitit continuallie.
Thair was into the Inglis oist'
Ane campiounS that blew greit boist.
He was ane stout man and ane Strang,
Quhilk oist wald with his conduct gangs
Outthrow4 the greit armie of France
His valiantnes for to avance;
And Maister Talbart was his name,*
Of Scottis and Frenche quhilk spak disdane,
And on his bonnet usit to beir,
Of silver fine, takinnis of weirS;
And proclamatiounis he gart mak^
That he wald, for his ladies saik.
With any gentilman of France
To fecht7 with him with speir or lance.
Bot no Frenche-man in all that land
With him durst battell hand for hand.
Than lyke ane weriour vailyeand^
He enterit in the Scottis band :
And quhen the Squyer Meldrum
Hard tell this campioun wes cum,
Richt haistelie he past him till,
Demanding him quhat was his will.
"Forsuith I can find none," quod he,
"On hors nor fute dar fecht with me."
» host.
2 champion.
3 go.
4 Throughout.
5 tokens of war.
6 caused be made.
7 fight.
** a valiant
warrior.
* Readers of Wyntoun's Cronykil will remember that in the
description of the great tournament at Berwick in 1338 it is a
knight of the same name, Sir Richard Talbot, who is defeated
in somewhat similar fashion by Sir Patrick Graeme. See Early
Scottish Poetry, p. 173.
74
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
• To-morrow.
2 words, boasts.
3 a small piece of
straw.
4 gone astray.
5 strong.
6 such practice.
7 afraid.
^ storm.
Than said he, "It wer greit schame
Without battell ye suld pass hame;
Thairfoir to God I male ane vow,
The morne' my-self sail fecht with yow
Outher on horsback or on fute.
Your crakkis^ I count thame not ane cute 3.
I sail be fund into the feild
Armit on hors with speir and schield."
Maister Talbart said, "My gude chyld,
It wer maist lyk that thow wer wyld^.
Thow art too young, and hes no micht
To fecht with me that is so wichts.
To speik to me thow suld have feir,
For I have sik practik^ in weir
That I wald not effeirit^ be
To mak debait aganis sic three ;
For I have stand in monie stour^.
And ay defendit my honour,
Thairfoir, my barne, I counsell thee
Sic interprysis to let be."
Than said this Squyer to the Knicht,
" I grant ye ar baith greit and wicht.
Young David was far les than I
Quhen with Golias manfullie,
Withouttin outher speir or scheild,
He faucht, and slew him in the feild.
I traist that God sal be my gyde.
And give me grace to stanche thy pryde.
Thocht thow be greit like Gowmakmorne,*
* Gaul, son of Morni, first the enemy and afterwards the ally
of Fingal, is one of the chief heroes of the Ossianic poems.
SQUYER MELD RUM IS JUSTYNG.
75
Traist weill I sail yow meit the morne.
Beside Montruill upon the grene
Befoir ten houris I sal be sene.
And gif ye wyn me in the feild
Baith hors and geir' I sail yow yeild,
Sa that siclyke^ ye do to me."
"That I sail do, be God!" quod he,
"And thairto I give thee my hand."
And swa betwene thame maid ane bands
That thay suld meit upon the morne.
Bot Talbart maid at him bot scorne,
Lychtlyand^ him with wordis of pryde,
Syne hamewart to his oist culd ryde,
And shew the brethren of his land
How ane young Scot had tanes on hand.
To fecht with him beside Montruill;
"Bot I traist he sail prufe the fuill."
Quod thay, "The morne that sail we ken^;
The Scottis are haldin hardie men."
Quod he, " I compt thame not ane cute.
He sail returne upon his fute.
And leif with me his armour bricht ;
For Weill I wait 7 he has no micht,
On hors nor fute, to fecht with me."
Quod thay, "The morne that sail we se."
Quhan to Monsieour De Obenie*
Reportit was the veritie,
' belongings.
2 in such fashion.
3 covenant.
4 Making light of.
S taken.
6 know.
7 well I know.
* Robert Stewart, Lord D'Aubigny and Mareschal of France,
descended from the Darnley and Lennox family, was Captain of
the Scots Guards of the King of France in the beginning of the
sixteenth century. Readers of Quentin Durward will remember
Scott's description of the post as held by Lord Crawford.
76
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
• choose.
2 nimbly.
3 in warlike garb.
4 stretched.
How that the Squyer had tane on hand
To fecht with Talbart hand for hand,
His greit courage he did commend,
Syne haistelie did for him send.
And quhen he come befoir the lord
The veritie he did record.
How for the honour of Scotland
That battell he had tane on hand;
"And sen it givis me in my hart,
Get I ane hors to tak my part.
My traist is sa, in Goddis grace,
To leif hym lyand in the place.
Howbeit he stalwart be and stout.
My lord, of him I have no dout."
Than send the Lord out throw the land,
And gat ane hundreth hors fra hand.
To his presence he brocht in haist,
And bad the Squyer cheis' him the best.
Of that the Squyer was rejoisit.
And cheisit the best as he suppoisit,
And lap on hym delyverlie^
Was never hors ran mair plesantlie
With speir and sword at his command.
And was the best of all the land.
He tuik his leif and went to rest.
Syne airlie in the morne him drest
Wantonlie in his weirlyke weid3,
All Weill enarmit, saif the heid.
He lap upon his cursour wicht.
And strauchf him in his stirroppis richt.
His speir and scheild and helme wes borne
SQUYER MELDRUMIS fUSTYNG,
77
With squyeris that raid him beforne'.
Ane velvot cap on heid he bair,
Ane quaif^ of gold to heild3 his hair.
This Lord of him tuik sa greit joy
That he himself wald hym convoy,
With him ane hundreth men of armes,
That thair suld no man do hym harmes.
The Squyer buir into his scheild
Ane otter in ane silver feild.
His hors was bairdit^ full richelie,
Coverit with satyne cramesies.
Than fordward raid this campioun
With sound of trumpet and clarioun,
And spedilie spurrit ouir the bent^,
Lyke Mars the God armipotent.
Thus leif we rydand our Squyar,
And speik of Maister Talbart mair :
Quhilk gat up airlie in the morrow 7,
And no manner of geir to borrow,
Hors, harnes, speir, nor scheild,
Bot was ay reddie for the feild;
And had sic practik into weir.
Of our Squyer he tuik na feir.
And said unto his companyeoun,
Or he come furth of his pavilyeoun,
"This nicht I saw into my dreame,
Quhilk to reheirs I think greit schame,
Me-thocht I saw cum fra the see
Ane greit otter rydand to me,
The quhilk was blak, with ane lang taill,
And cruellie did me assail,
• before.
2 coif, band.
3 hold.
4 caparisoned.
5 crimson cloth.
6 over the rough
grassy ground.
7 morning.
78
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' beat.
* made.
3 such a fright.
4 covering.
S embroidered.
6 doubt.
And bait' me till he gart^ me bleid,
And drew me backwart fra my steid.
Quhat this suld mene I cannot say,
Bot I was never in sic ane fray 3."
His fellow said, "Think ye not schame
For to gif credence till ane dreame?
Ye knaw it is aganis our faith,
Thairfoir go dres yow in your graith^.
And think weill throw your hie courage
This day ye sail wyn vassalage."
Then drest he him into his geir
Wantounlie like ane man of weir
Quhilk had baith hardines and fors.
And lichtlie lap upon his hors.
His hors was bairdit full bravelie.
And coverit was richt courtfullie
With browderits wark and velvot grene.
Sanct George's croce thare micht be sene
On hors, harnes, and all his geir.
Than raid he furth withouttin weir^,
Convoyit with his capitane
And with monie ane Inglisman
Arrayit all with armes bricht;
Micht no man see ane fairer sicht.
Than clariounis and trumpettis blew ;
And weriouris monie hither drew.
On everie side come monie man
To behald quha the battell wan.
The feild wes in the medow grene,
Quhair everie man micht weill be sene.
The heraldis put thame sa in ordour
SQUYER MELDRUMIS JUSTYNG.
79
That no man passit within the bordour
Nor preissit to cum within the grene
Bot heraldis and the campiounis kene.
The ordour and the circumstance
Wer lang to put in remembrance.
Quhen thir twa nobilmen of weir
Wer Weill accowterit in their geir
And in their handis Strang burdounis',
Than trumpettis blew and clariounis,
And heraldis cryit hie on hicht,
" Now let tham go ! God shaw the richt !"
Than spedilie thay spurrit thair hors,
And ran to uther with sic fors
That baith thair speiris in sindrie flaw.
Than said thay all that stude on raw,
Ane better cours than they twa ran
Wes not sene sen the warld began.
Than baith the parties wer rejoisit.
The campiounis ane quhyle repoisit
Till they had gottin speiris new.
Than with triumph the trumpettis blew,
And they with all the force thay can
Wounder^ rudelie at aither ran.
And straik at uther with sa greit ire
That fra thair harnes flew the fyre.
Thair speiris wer sa teuchs and Strang
That aither uther to eirth doun dang 4.
Baith hors and man, with speir and scheild.
Than flatlingiss lay into the feild.
Than Maister Talbart was eschamit.
" Forsuith for ever I am defamit !"
' staves, spears.
2 Wonderfully.
3 tough.
4 dashed.
5 flatwise.
8o S//i DAVID LYNDSAY.
And said this, "I had rather die
Without that I revengit be."
Our young Squyer, sic was his hap,
Was first on fute; and on he lap
Upon his hors, without support.
Of that the Scottis tuke gude comfort,
'nimbly. Quhcn thay saw him sa feireUe^
= gallantly. Loup OH his hors sa galyeardlie'^.
The Squyer liftit his visair
Ane lytill space to take the air.
Thay bad hym wyne, and he it drank,
And humiUie he did thame thank.
Be that Talbart on hors wes mountit,
And of our Squyer lytill countit.
And cryit gif he durst undertak
^°nce. To run anis3 for his ladies saik?
The Squyer answerit hie on hicht,
"That sail I do, be Marie bricht !
I am content all day to ryn,
Tyll ane of us the honour wyn."
Of that Talbart was weill content,
^seized. ^n(j ^nc greit speir in hand he hent''.
s grasped. 'pj^g Squyer in his hand he thrangs
His speir, quhilk was baith greit and lang.
With ane sharp heid of grundin steill,
6 well pleased. Qf quhilk he wes appleisit weill ^.
That plesand feild was lang and braid,
Quhair gay ordour and rowme was maid,
And everie man micht have gude sicht,
And thair was mony weirlyke knicht.
Sum man of everie natioun
Was in that congregatioun.
SQUYER MELDRUMIS JUSTYNG.
8i
Than trumpettis blew triumphantlie,
And thai' twa campiounis egeirUe
Thai spurrit thair hors, with speir on breist
PertHe to preif thair pith thay preist^
That round, rink roume wes at utterance 3;
Bot Talbartis hors with ane mischance,
He outterit't, and to ryn was laith;
Quhairof Talbart was wonder wraith.
The Squyer furth his rinks he ran,
Commendit weill with everie man ;
And him dischargeit of his speir
HonestUe lyke ane man of weir.
Becaus that rink thay ran in vane
Than Talbart wald not ryn agane
Till he had gottin ane better steid ;
Quhilk was brocht to him with gude speid.
Quhairon he lap, and tuik his speir,
As brym^ as he had bene ane beir.
And bowtit? ford ward with ane bend^,
And ran on to the rinkis end,
And saw his hors was at command.
Than wes he blyith, I understand,
Traistand na mair to ryn in vane.
Than all the trumpettis blew agane.
Be that with all the force thay can
Thay rycht rudelie at uther ran.
Of that meiting ilk 9 man thocht wounder,
Quhilk soundit lyke ane crak of thunder.
And nane of thame thair marrow '° mist:
Sir Talbartis speir in sunder brist,
Bot the Squyer with his burdoun"
G in
• these.
2 Boldly to prove
their strength
they pressed.
3 coursing room
was from the
extremity, a
Voutrance.
4 swerved.
5 course.
^' violent.
7 bolted.
^ bound.
9 each.
'o match.
" pike, spe.ir.
82
Sm DAVID LYNDSAY.
^ place.
3 joust.
4 compact.
5 lose.
Sir Talbart to the eirth dang doun.
That straik was with sic micht and fors
That on the ground lay man and hors ;
And throw the brydell-hand him bair,
And in the breist ane span and mair.
Throw curras^ and throw gluifis of plait,
That Talbart micht mak na debait,
The trencheour of the Squyeris speir.
Stak still into Sir Talbartis geir.
Than everie man into that steid^
Did all beleve that he was deid.
The Squyer lap rycht haistelie
From his cursour deliverlie,
And to Sir Talbart maid support,
And humillie did him comfort.
Quhen Talbart saw into his scheild
Ane otter in ane silver feild,
" This race," said he, " I may sair rew,
For I see weill my dreme wes trew.
Me-thocht yone otter gart me bleid.
And buir me backwart from my steid.
Bot heir I vow to God soverane
That I sail never justs agane."
And sweitlie to the Squyer said,
" Thow knawis the cunning ■» that we maid,
Quhilk of us twa suld tynes the feild
He suld baith hors and armour yield
Till him that wan : quhairfoir I will
My hors and harnes geve thee till."
Then said the Squyer courteouslie,
" Brother, I thank yow hartfullie.
SQUYER MELDRUMIS JUSTYNG. 83
Of yow forsuith nathing I crave,
For I have gottin that I wald have."
With everie man he was commendit,
Sa vailyeandlie he him defendit.
The Capitane of the IngHs band
Tuke the young Squyer be the hand,
And led him to the pailyeoun ', ' pavilion.
And gart him mak coUatioun.
Quhen Talbartis woundis wes bund up fast
The Inghs capitane to him past,
And prudenthe did him comfort,
Syne said, " Brother, I yow exhort
To tak the Squyer be the hand."
And sa he did at his command ;
And said, "This bene but chance of armes."
With that he braisit^ him in his armes, = embraced.
Sayand, " HartHe I yow forgeve."
And then the Squyer tuik his leve,
Commendit weill with everie man.
Than wichthes on his hors he wan, 3 gallantly.
With monie ane nobyll man convoyit.
Leve we thair Talbart sair annoyit.
Some sayis of that discomfitour
He thocht sic schame and dishonour
That he departit of that land.
And never wes sene into Ingland.
THE SQUYERIS ADEW.
*
' shining.
* beauty.
3 Star.
4 much.
Fair weill, ye lemant" lampis of lustines^
Of fair Scotland, adew my Ladies all !
During my youth with ardent besines,
Ye knaw how I was in your service thrall.
Ten thowsand times adew above thame all
Sterne 3 of Stratherne, my Ladie Soverane !
For quhome I sched my blud with mekill'' pane.
5 evening and
morninsr.
6 if.
7 wish.
Yit wald my Ladie luke at evin and morrows
On my legend, at length scho wald not mis
How for hir saik I sufiferit mekill sorrow.
Yit give^ I micht at this time get my wis 7,
Of hir sweit mouth, deir God, I had ane kis.
I wis in vane, allace we will dissever,
I say na mair, Sweit hart, adew for ever !
* These are two of the last stanzas of " The Testament of
Squyer Meldrum," a composition chiefly occupied with the
doughty squire's directions for a sumptuous funeral. The lady
to whom they are addressed was Marion Lawson, the young
widow of John Haldane of Gleneagles, slain at Flodden, for
whom the Squyer upon his return to Scotland in 1515 had
formed a strong attachment, and by whom he had become the
father of two children. In August, 1517, according to Pitscottie,
Meldrum had, in gallantly defending his possession of this lady,
been crippled and left for dead on the road to Leith by his rival
Luke Stirling, brother of the laird of Keir, who followed him
from Edinburgh and attacked him with fifty men.
ANE PLEASANT SATYRE OF
THE THRIE ESTAITIS.
Prologue.
Spoken by diligence.
The Father and founder of faith and felicitie,
That your fassioun^ formed to his similitude, 'fashion.
And his Sone, our Saviour, scheild in necessitie,
That bocht yow from baiUis^ ransonit on the Rude, "'°frS^'J°^.
Repleadgeand3 his presonaris with his hart blude ; ^ Redeeming.
The Halie Gaist, governour and grounder of grace,
Of wisdome and weilfair baith fontane and flude,
Saif yow all that I sie seisit^ in this place, 4 seated.
And scheild yow from sinne.
And with his spreit yow inspyre.
Till I have schawin my desyre!
Silence, Soveraine, I requyre.
For now I begin.
Prudent Peopill I pray yow all
Tak na man greif in speciall,
For wee sail speik in generall,
For pastyme and for play:
Thairfoir till all our rymis be rung
And our mistoinits sangis be sung 5 mistimed.
Let everie man keip weill ane toung
And everie woman tway.
86 SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
An Interlude of the Puir Man and the
Pardoner.
\Heir sail entir Pauper the puir man.
PAUPER.
1 love. Of your almis, gude folks, for God's luife' of heavin,
For I have motherles bairns either sax or seavin.
2 goods. Gif ye'ill gif me na gude 2, for the luife of Jesus
3makemeknow. Wische3 me the richt way till Sanct-Androes.
diligence.
Quhair haif wee gottin this gudly companzeoun?
4 Quick. Swyith^! out of the feild, [thow] fals raggit loun.
s God knows. God Wait 5 gif heir be ane weill-keipit place,
6 vile. Quhen sic ane vilde^ begger carle may get entres?.
8 these failings. Fy OH yow ofificiars, that mends nocht thir failyies^!
I gif yow all till the Devill, baith Provost and Bailzies !
Without ye cum and chase this carle away.
The devill a word ye'is get mair of our play.
Fals huirsun, raggit carle, quhat Devil is that
9 what the devil , -
is that thou thOU rUgS9?
teajest ?
PAUPER.
Quha Devill, maid thee ane gentill man, that wald
'°ears. cut not thy lugs'°?
diligence.
"talk. Quhat now! me-thinks the carle begins to crack".
Swyith, carle, away, or be this day I'se break thy back.
\Heir sail the Carle dim up and sit in
the King's tchyre.
Cum doun, or be God's croun, fals loun, I sail slay
thee.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 87
PAUPER.
Now sweir be thy brunt' schinnis, the Devill ding^ 'a^k'
thame fra thee.
Quhat say ye till thir court dastards? be 3 thay get 3 by the time that.
hail Clais4, 4 whole clothes.
Sa sune as thay leirs to sweir and trip on thair tais. sieam.
DILIGENCE.
Me-thocht the carle callit me knave, evin in my face.
Be Sanct Fillane ! thou sal be slane bot gif^ thou ^ but if, unless.
ask grace.
Loup 7 doun, or, be the gude Lord, thow sail lose 'Leap.
thy heid.
PAUPER.
I sail anis drink or I ga, thocht^ thou had sworne « though.
my deid^. 9 death.
\Heir Diligence castis away the ledder.
DILIGENCE.
Loup now, gif thou list, for thou hes lost the ledder.
It is full Weill thy kind to loup, and licht in a tedder '°. '° tether, haiter.
PAUPER.
Thou sail be faine to fetch agane the ledder, or I loup.
I sail sit heir into this tcheir till I have tumde" the "emptied.
StOUp'^'. ■= pitcher.
\Heir sail the Carlt loup aff the scaffald.
DILIGENCE.
Swyith'3! beggar, bogilP^ haist the away; m ho^goi^iin.
Thow art over pert to spill our Play.
88
S/I? DAVID LYNDSAY.
PAUPER.
I will not gif, for al your Play, worth an sowis fart:
For thair is richt lytill play at my hungrie hart.
DILIGENCE.
Quhat devill ails this cruckit carle?
PAUPER.
'""uch. Marie! meikill' sorrow.
I can not get, thocht I gasp, to beg nor to borrow.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair, devill, is this thou dwels ? or quhat's thy
intent ?
PAUPER.
I dwell into Lawthiane, ane myle fra Tranent.
2 truth.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair wald thou be, carle? the suth^ to me schaw.
PAUPER.
Sir, evin to Sanct-Androes, for to seik law.
DILIGENCE.
For to seik law, in Edinburgh was the neirest way.
PAUPER.
Sir, I socht law thair this monie deir day,
Bot I culd get nane at Sessioun nor Seinzie;*
3 company. Thairfor the meikill din Devill droun all the meinzie3.
* The Court of Session had been established by James V. in
May, 1532. The Seinzie was the older ecclesiastical consistory,
or bishops' court.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 89
DILIGENCE.
Schaw me thy mater, man, with all the circumstances,
How that thou hes happinit on thir unhappie chances.
PAUPER.
Gude man,, will ye gif me of your charitie,
And I sail declair yow the black veritie.
My father was ane auld man and ane hoir^ 'hoar.
And was of age fourscoir of yeirs and moir.
And Maid, my mother, was fourscoir and fyfteine.
And with my labour I did thame baith susteine.
= i.e. in panniers,
Wee had ane meir that caryit salt and coill^ the ancient
means of
And everie ilk 3 yeir scho brocht us hame ane foill. carriage.
3 separate.
Wee had thrie ky-t that was baith fat and fair, 4kine.
Nane tydier into the toun of Air.*
My father was sa walk of blude and bane
That he deits, quhairfoir my mother maid great maine. sdied.
Then scho deit, within ane day or two;
And thair began my povertie and wo.
Our gude gray meir was baittand^ on the feild, ^ pasturing.
And our land's laird tuik hir for his hyreild.f
The vickar tuik the best cow be the held.
Incontinent, quhen my father was deid.
And quhen the vickar hard tel how that my mother
Was deid, fra hand he tuk to him ane-uther.
Then Meg, my wife, did murne baith evin and
morrow,
* Ayrshire cattle were, to judge from this reference, as much
esteemed in the sixteenth century as they are in the nineteenth.
t Formerly the fine paid the feudal superior for rehef from
armed service ; afterwards a tine of the best chattel, exacted by
the landlord on the death of a tenant.
90
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' clutched.
2 uppermost
clothes.
3 coarse woollen.
Till at the last scho deit for verie sorrow.
And quhen the vickar hard tell my wyfe was dead
The thrid cow he cleikit' be the heid.
Thair umest clayis^, that was of rapplochs gray,
The vickar gart his dark bear them away.*
Quhen all was gane I micht mak na debeat,
Bot with my bairns past for till beg my meat.
Now haif I tald yow the blak veritie
How I am brocht into this miserie.
4 parson.
DILIGENCE.
How did the person ■»? was he not thy gude freind?
5 fourpence.
PAUPER.
The Devil stick him! he curst me for my teind,
And halds me yit under that same proces
That gart me want the Sacrament at Pasche.
In gude faith, Sir, thocht he wald cut my throt,
I have na geir except ane Inglis grots,
Quhilk I purpois to gif ane man of law.
fi Trowest.
DILIGENCE.
Thou art the daftest fuill that ever I saw.
Trows ^ thou, man, be the law to get remeid
Of men of Kirk! Na, nocht till thou be deid.
PAUPER.
Sir, be quhat law, tell me, quhairfoir or quhy
That ane vickar suld tak fra me thrie ky?
* The reference here, says Laing, is to the cars present, or
funeral gift to the clerk, the exaction of which had become a
heavy grievance to the poor.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 91
DILIGENCE.
Thay have na law exceptand consuetude,
Quhilk law, to them, is sufficient and gude.
PAUPER.
Ane consuetude against the common weill
Suld be na law, I think, be sweit Sanct Geill.
Quhair will ye find that law, tell gif ye can,
To tak thrie ky fra ane pure husband-man?
Ane for my father, and for my wyfe ane-uther,
And the third cow he tuke fra Maid my mother.
DILIGENCE.
It is thair law, all that thay have in use,
Thocht it be cow, sow, ganer', gryse^, or guse. ^prg.'^^'^'
PAUPER.
Sir, I wald speir^ at yow ane questioun. 3 ask.
Behauld sum prelats of this regioun —
[Here the Puir Man recites further legalised oppressions by
the priesthood, but is interrupted.]
DILIGENCE.
Hald thy toung, man, it seims that thou war mangit."* 4 stupefied.
Speik thou of preists buts doubt thou will be hangit. s without.
PAUPER.
Be Him that buir the cruell croun of thorne,
I cair nocht to be hangit, evin the morne.
DILIGENCE.
Be sure of preistis thou will get na support.
92 SIR D'AVID LYNDSAY.
PAUPER.
'lot. Gif that be trew the Feind resave the sort'!
Sa sen I se I get na uther grace
I will ly down and rest mee in this place.
\Heir sail the Piiirman ly doun in the
feild, and the Pardoner sail cum
in and say.
PARDONER.
Bona dies ! Bona dies !
Devoit Pepill, gude day I say yow.
Now tarie ane lytill quhyll, I pray yow,
Till I be with yow knawin.
Wat ye weill how I am namit?
Ane nobill man and undefamit,
Gif that all the suith war schawin.
I am Sir Robert Rome-raker,
Ane perfyte publike pardoner*
Admittit be the Paip.
Sirs, I sail schaw yow, for my wage.
My pardons and my pilgramage,
= grope, grip. Quhilk yc sail se, and graip^.
I give to the Devill, with gude intent,
3 naughty. This unsells wickit New Testament,
With thame that it translaitit.
4 lay. Sen layik4 men knew the veritie
Pardoners get no charitie
Without that thay debait it,
*The retailing of papal indulgences, here satirized by
Lyndsay, was one of the chief abuses against which Luther
had raised the indignation of Germany.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS.
93
Amang the wives with wrinks' and wyles,
As all my marrowis^', men begyles
With our fair fals flattrie.
Yea, all the crafts I ken perqueir3
As I was teichit be ane freir
Callit Hypocrisie.
Bot now, allace ! our greit abusioun
Is cleirlie knawin till our confusioun.
That we may sair repent.
Of all credence now I am quyte,
For ilk man halds me at dispyte
That reids the New Test'ment.
Duill fell 4 the braine that hes it wrocht !
Sa fall them that the Buik hame brocht !
Als I pray to the Rude
That Martin Luther, that fals louns,
Black Bullinger, and Melancthoun,
Had bene smorde in thair cude^
Be him that buir the crowne of thorne
I wald Sanct Paull had never bene borne;
And als I wald his bulks
War never red in the kirk,
Bot amangs freirs, into the mirk 7,
Or riven amang ruiks !
\Heir sail he lay doun his geir upon
ane biiird, and say,
■ tricks.
2 fellows.
3 1 know by heart.
t Sorrow destroy.
5 knave.
6 smothered in
their baptism-
cloth.
7 dark.
My patent pardouns ye may se.
Cum fra the Cane^ of Tartarie,
Weill seald with oster-schellis.
Thocht ye have na contritioun
8 Khan.
94
SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.
' The real jaw-
bone of Fingal.
2 tail.
3 snout.
4 go.
5 Belial.
6 jest.
7 vexation.
S cumber.
Ye sail have full remissioun
With help of bulks and bellis.
Heir is ane relict lang and braid,
Of Fin MacouU the richt chaft blaidS
With teith and al togidder.
Of Ceiling's cow heir is ane home,
For eating of Makconnal's corne
Was slaine into Baquhidder.
Heir is ane coird baith great and lang
Quhilk hangit Johne the Armistrang,*
Of gude hemp, soft and sound.
Gude halie peopill, I stand for'd,
Quha-ever beis hangit with this cord
Neids never to be dround.
The culum^ of Sanct Bryd's kow;
The gruntills of Sanct Antonis sow,
Quhilk buir his haly bell.
Quha-ever he be heiris this bell clinck
Gif me ane ducat for till drink ;
He sail never gang* to hell.
Without he be of Baliells borne.
Maisters, trow ye that this be scorne^.
Cum win this pardoun, cum.
Quha luifis thair wyfis nocht with thair hart,
I have power thame for till part.
Me-think yow deif and dum :
Hes nane of yow curst wickit wyfis
That haldis yow intill sturt? and stryfis.
Cum tak my dispensatioun ;
Of that cummer 8 I sail mak yow quyte,
* See introduction to King James the Fifth, p. 143.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 95
Howbeit your-selfis be in the wyte', '
And mak ane fals narratioun.
Cum win the pardoun, now let se,
For meill, for malt, or for monie, -
For cok, hen, guse, or gryse.
Of relicts heir I haif ane hunder;
Quhy cum ye nocht? this is ane wounder:
I trow ye be nocht wyse.
[A grotesque episode is here introduced in which the Pardoner,
for the price of "ane cuppill of sarks" (shirts), divorces a mal-
content sowtar, or shoemaker, and his wife. Upon their
despatch, east and west, the Pardoner's boy cries from the hill.]
WILKIN.
Hoaw! Maister, hoaw! quhair ar ye now?
blame.
PARDONER.
I am heir, Wilkin widdiefow^
2 rascal, ///.
gallowsful.
WILKIN.
Sir, I have done your bidding.
For I have fund ane greit hors bane,
Ane fairer saw ye never nane,
Upon dame Flescher's midding.
Sir, ye may gar the wyfis trow
It is ane bane of Sanct Bryd's cow,
Gude for the fever quartane3.
Sir, will ye reull this relict weill.
All the wyfis will baith kiss and kneill
Betuixt this and Dumbartane.
3 fourth-day or
intermittent
fever.
PARDONER.
Quhat say thay of me in the Toun?
96
SIN DAVID LYNDSAY.
I laid hold of.
2 street-walker.
3 scoundrel.
4 Though you
stay a year.
5 one.
WILKIN.
Some sayis ye are ane verie loun,
Sum sayis Legatus Natus;
Sum sayis ye ar ane fals Saracene,
And sum sayis ye ar for certaine
Diabolus hicarnatus.
Bot keip yow fra subjectioun
Of the curst King Correctioun;
For, be ye with him fangit',
Becaus ye ar ane Rome-raker,
Ane common publick cawsay-paker^,
But doubt ye will be hangit.
PARDONER.
Quhair sail I ludge into the toun?
WILKIN.
With gude kynde Cristiane Anderson,
Quhair ye will be weill treatit.
Gif ony limmers yow demands,
Scho will defend yow with hir hands,
And womanlie debait it.
Bawburdie sayis be the Trinitie
That scho sail beir yow cumpanie
Howbeit ye byde ane yeir^.
PARDONER.
Thou hes done weill, be God's mother;
Tak ye the taines and I the tother,
Sa sail we mak greit cheir.
6 counsel.
WILKIN.
I reid^ yow, speid yow heir.
And mak na ianger tarie;
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 97
Byde ye lang thair, but weir', « without doubt.
I dreid your weird yow warier = your fate you
\Heir sail Pmiper rise, and rax him.
curse.
PAUPER.
Quhat thing was yon that I heard craks and cry? 3 speak.
I have bene dreamand, and dreveland* of my ky. 4 drivelling.
With my richt hand my haill bodie I saineS; ^ "YcTo^s°i^ ""^^
Sanct Bryd, Sanct Bryd, send me my ky againe!
I se standand yonder ane hahe man,
To mak me help let me se gif he can.
Halie Maister, God speid yow, and gude morne!
PARDONER.
Welcum to me, thocht thou war at the home!*
Cum win the pardoun, and syne I sail the sained ^b'ess.
PAUPER.
Will that pardon get me my ky againe?
PARDONER.
Carle, of thy ky I have nathing ado:
Cum win my pardon, and kis my relicts to.
[Heir sail he saine him with his relictis.
Now lowse thy pursse and lay doun thy offrand.
And thou sail have my pardoun evin fra hand.
With raipis7 and relicts I sail the saine againe; 7 ropes.
Of gut^ or gravell thou sail never have paine. sgout.
Now win the pardoun, limmer, or thou art lost.
* At the home, proclaimed rebel. Outlawry was proclaimed
with three blasts of a horn. In 1512 Gavin Douglas was one of
a great assize which passed an Act anent " the resset of Rebellis,
and Personis being at our soueranc Lordis home. "
H HI
g8 S//i DAVID LYNDSAY.
PAUPER.
My haly Father, quhat wil that pardon cost?
PARDONER.
Let se quhat mony thou bearest in thy bag.
PAUPER.
I haif ane grot heir, bund into ane rag.
PARDONER.
Hes thou na uther silver bot ane groat?
PAUPER.
' search. Qjf J ^j^yg m^\r, Sir, cum and rype ' my coat.
PARDONER.
Gif me that groat, man, gif thou best na mair.
PAUPER.
With all my hart, Maister, lo tak it thair.
Now let me se your pardon, with your leif.
PARDONER.
Ane thousand yeir of pardons I thee geif.
PAUPER.
Ane thousand yeir! I will nocht live sa lang.
^go- Delyver me it, Maister, and let me gang 2.
PARDONER.
Ane thousand year I lay upon thy head,
With totiens quotiens: now, mak me na mair plead:
Thou hast resaifit thy pardon now already.
THE THRIE ESTAITIS. 99
PAUPER.
Bot, I can se na-thing, Sir, be Our Lady.
Forsuith, Maister, I trow I be nocht wyse
To pay ere I have sene my marchandryse.
That ye have gottin my groat full sair I rew.
Sir, quhidder is your pardon black or blew?
Maister, sen ye have tain fra me my cunzie S ' coin.
My marchandryse schaw me, withouttin sunzie^j = excuse.
Or to the bischop I sail pas and pleinzies 3 complain.
In Sanct-Androis, and summond yow to the Seinzie*. '' Consistory.
PARDONER.
Quhat craifiss the carle? me-thinks thou art not wise. ^ craves.
PAUPER.
I craif my groat, or ellis my marchandrise.
PARDONER.
I gaif the pardon for ane thowsand yeir.
PAUPER.
How sail I get that pardon, let me heir.
PARDONER.
Stand still and I sail tell the haill^ storie. ''whole.
Quhen thow art deid, and gais to Purgatorie,
Being condempnit to paine a thowsand yeir,
Then sail thy pardoun thee relcif, but weir.
Now be content, ye ar ane mervelous man.
PAUPER.
Sail I get nathing for my groat quhill than 7? ;iiiithcn.
PARDONER.
That sail thou not, I mak it to yow plaine.
lOO S/J? DAVID LYNDSAY.
PAUPER.
Na than, gossop, gif me my groat againe.
Quhat say ye, Maisters? call ye this gude resoun,
That he suld promeis me ane gay pardoun,
'place. And he resave my mony, in his steady
Syne male me na payment till I be dead?
' ^^uTry.^"" Quhen I am deid I wait full sikkerlie^
3 frail. ]y[y sillie3 saull will pas to Purgatorie.
Declair me this, now God nor Baliell bind the,
Quhen I am thair, curst carle, quhair sail I find the?
Not in heavin, but rather into hell.
Quhen thow art thair thou cannot help thy-sell.
Quhen will thou cum my dolours till abait?
4 Pre . .
sheat. Or'' I thee find my hippis will get ane halts.
Trowis thou, butchour, that I will buy blind lambis?
6 evaluate feces, (..f me my groat, the Devill dryte^ in thy gambis7!
PARDONER.
8 confounded. Swyith ! Stand abak! I trow this man be mangit^.
Thou gets not this, carle, thocht thou suld be hangit.
PAUPER.
''f^g- Gif me my groat, weill bund into ane clout 9,
" bk.w.^ '^ '^'^' Or, be Goddis breid^°, Robin sail beir ane rout".
\Heir sail thay fecht with silence; and
Pauper sal cast down the buird, and
cast the relicts in the water.
DILIGENCE.
'2 sport. Quhat kind of dafiing^^ is this al day?
'3 Quick, fellows! Swyith, smaiks'3! out of the feild, away!
Intill ane presoun put them sone,
Syne hang them, quhen the Play is done.
THE THRIB ESTAITIS.
lOI
The Poor Man's Mare.
company.
■ eight.
PAUPER.
Marie ! I lent my gossop my mear, to fetch hame coills,
And he hir drounit into the querrell hollis:*
And I ran to the Consistorie, for to pleinze,
And thair I happinit amang ane greidie meinze'.
Thay gave me first ane thing thay call Citandum,
Within aucht^ dayis I gat bot Lybellandum^
Within ane moneth I gat ad Opponendum,
In half ane yeir I gat Interloqitendum,
And syne I gat, how call ye it? ad Replicandicm :
Bot I could never ane word yit understand him.
And than thay gart me cast out many plackiss,
And gart me pay for four and twentie actis.
Bot or thay came half gait* to Concliidendum
The Feind ane plack was left for to defend him.
Thus thay postponit me twa yeir with thair traine s, ^ device,
Syne, Hodie ad octo, bad me cum againe;
And than, thir ruiks, thay roupit^ wonder fast,
For sentence silver thay cryit at the last.
Of Pronunciandum thay maid me wonder faine;
Bot I got never my gude gray meir againe.
3 a Scots plack
equalled the
third of a
penny.
4 halfway.
6 croaked.
* Laing quotes from the chartulary of Newbattle a grant by
Seyer de Quency, lord of the manor of Tranent, of a coal-jiit and
quarry on the lands of Preston ; which shows mining and quarry-
ing to have been industries there as early as 1202.
DAYBREAK IN MAY.
From the Prologue to " The Monarche."
Musing and marvelling on the miserie
Frome day to day in erth quhilk dois incres,
■ each. And of ilk' stait the instabilitie
Preceding of the restless besynes
Quhare-on the most part doith thair mynd addres
Inordinatlie, on houngrye covatyce,
Vaine glore, dissait, and uther sensuall vyce :
Bot tumlyng in my bed I mycht nocht lye ;
2 fared. Quhareforc I fuir^ furth in ane Maye mornyng,
Conforte to gett of my malancolye,
Sumquhat affore fresche Phebus uprysing,
Quhare I mycht heir the birdis sweitlye syng.
In-tyll ane park I past, for my plesure
Decorit weill be craft of dame Nature.
Quhow I resavit confort naturall
3 describe. For tyll discryve3 at lenth it war too lang ;
Smelling the holsum herbis medicinall,
4 fell. Quhare-on the dulce and balmy dew down dang-^,
5 twigs. Lyke aurient peirles on the twistiss hang;
Or quhow that the aromatic odouris
Did proceid frome the tender fragrant flouris ;
Or quhow Phebus, that king etheriall,
Swyftlie sprang up in-to the Orient,
Ascending in his throne imperiall,
DA YBREAK IN MA Y.
103
2 moist em-
purpled.
3 embroidered.
Quhose bricht and berialP hemes resplendent 'beryl.
Illumynit all on-to the Occident,
Confortand everye corporall creature
Quhilk formit war in erth be dame Nature;
Quhose donke impurpurit- vestiment nocturnall,
With his imbroudit3 mantyll matutyne,
He lefte in-tyll his regioun aurorall,
Quhilk on hym waitit quhen he did declyne
Towarte his Occident palyce vespertyne,
And rose in habyte gaye and glorious,
Brychtar nor gold or stonis precious.
Bot Synthea, the hornit nychtis quene,
Scho loste hir lychte and lede ane lawar saill,
Frome tyme hir soverane lorde that scho had sene,
And in his presens waxit dirk* and paill, *dark.
And ouer hir visage kest ane mistye vaill;
So did Venus, the goddes amorous,
With Jupiter, Mars, and Mercurius.
Rycht so the auld intoxicat Saturne,
Persaving Phebus powir, his beymes brycht,
Abufe the erth than maid he no sudgeourne^, ssojoum.
Bot suddandlye did lose his borrovvit lycht,
Quhilk he durst never schaw bot on the nycht.
The Pole Artick, Ursis, and Sterris all
Quhilk situate ar in the Septentrionall,
Tyll errand^ schyppis quhilks ar the souer gyde^,
Convoyand thame upone the stormye nycht,
Within thare frostie circle did thame hyde.
Howbeit that sterris have none uthir lycht
Bot the reflex of Phebus hemes brycht.
6 wanderinR.
7 sure guide.
104
S//? DAVID LYNDSAY.
That day durst none in-to the hevin appeir
Till he had circuit all our Hemispheir.
Me-thocht it was ane sycht celestiall
To sene Phebus so angellyke ascend
In-tyll his fyrie chariot triumphall,
Quhose bewtie brychte I culd nocht comprehend.
• care. All warldlic cure' anone did fro me wend
Quhen fresche Flora spred furth hir tapestrie,
Wrocht be dame Nature, quent and curiouslie
Depaynt with mony hundreth hevinlie hewis ;
Glaid of the rysing of thair royall Roye,
2 breaking forth, wijh blomcs brcclcand^ on the tender bewiss,
3 boughs.
Quhilk did provoke myne hart tyl natural joye.
Neptune that day, and Eolh, held thame coye,
That men on far mycht heir the birdis sounde,
Quhose noyis did to the sterrye hevin redounde.
The plesand powne prunyeand his feddrem fairs,
The myrthfull maves^ maid gret melodic,
The lustye? lark ascending in the air,
Numerand his naturall notis craftelye,
The gay goldspink, the merll rycht myrralye,
The noyis of the nobyll nychtingalis
Redoundit throuch the montans, meids, and valis.
Contempling this melodious armonye,
Quhow everilke bird drest thame for tyl advance,
To saluss^ Nature with thare melodye.
That I stude gasing, halfingis9 in ane trance,
To heir thame mak thare naturall observance
So royallie that all the roches'° rang
Throuch repurcussioun of thair suggurit sang.
4 .(Eolus.
5 peacock
pruning his
feathers fair.
6 thrush.
7 pleasant.
8 salute.
9 partly.
'0 rocks.
JOHN BELLENDEN.
JOHN BELLENDEN.*
Last in the list of makars enumerated by Lyndsay in
the prologue to his " Complaynt of the Papyngo " is
mentioned "ane plant of poeitis, callit Ballendyne,"
who seems to have excited both respect and anticipa-
tion among his early contemporaries. The prophecy
of Lyndsay's lines appears to have been more than
fulfilled. The new makar of 1530, having gained >
the ear of the court, not only wrote poems which,
whether they excelled those of his rivals or not,
have at least outlived most of them, but produced
works in prose regarding which a critic of the first
rank has said, "No better specimen of the middle
period (of the Scottish language) in its classical purity
exists." t
Some obscurity has been cast upon the life of this
scholar and poet by confusing him with an eminent
contemporary of the same name, Sir John Bellenden
of Auchinoul. The latter was secretary to the Earl
of Angus at the time of that nobleman's downfall in
* The name is spelt variously, Ballantyne, Ballenden, Bellen-
dyne, &c.
t Murray's Dialects of the Southern Counties of Scotlatid,
p. 61.
loS JOHN BELLENDEN.
1528, appearing twice before parliament as agent for
the Douglases on the 4th of September. Some
time afterwards he became Justice-ClerL* These
functions of Bellenden the lawyer have been attributed,
however incongruously, to Bellenden the churchman,
and have again and again led to a hopeless confusion
of parentage and other details. As a matter of fact
the Justice-Clerk seems to have sunived the poet by
more than twenty-seven years. 7
Of the poet's life few facts are known with certainty.
Bom towards the close of the fifteenth century, he is
beheved to have been a native of Haddingtonshire,
and to have entered St. Andrew's University in 1508.
At least the matriculation of one John Ballentyn of
the Lothian nation is recorded in that year. He
completed his education at the University of Paris,
where he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity.
From the fourth stanza of his proheme to the Cosmo-
graphe, and from the prose epistle to James V. at
the close of his translation of Boece's History, it is
gathered that, returning to this country, he was
employed at court during that monarch's youth as
Clerk of Accoimts, but was presently cast from his
post by certain court intrigues. His loss of place
probably coincided with that of Sir David Lyndsay,
and was probably owed to the same cause, the
seizure of power by the Douglases in 1524. It seems
clear, moreover, that it was upon the downfall of
* According to Hume's History of the Houses of Douglas and
Angus, p. 258.
t In the appendix to Scotstarvet's History Six John Bellenden
is stated to have been Justice-Clerk from 1547 till 1578.
JOHN BELLENDEN. 109
that house that he retnrned to court favour: and
circumstances would lead to the bdid" that he was
amoi^ those for whom James, mindful of eaify
services, made provision shortly after his acressicm to
power in 1528. At anyrate, in 15--. v: tbe three
following years Bellenden was -r.-;r;i r:?»?re^
command of James in translarlr.r :zt .
contemporary Boece and cf Li .7. T T
accounts from October 30th, 1530, to November 30th,
1533, contain notes of paym^it for this wtsk. In
all, he received during that time the sum <rf ^ir4;
£,-i% being for the translation of Boece, and £,7^^ for
that of Livy.
A year or t" '.".z'. i:~r: : : : cy of the
bishopric of Moray, th: ^ : '.':.:- r Jso
became vacant, and is gin - itA to
the crown. Tvro clergymen, r , :-?2n,
parson of G!: r- n-d A!e:;: : : H -. t-^
the Pope tc : - -: : ^ tncdcc ui.:^.: j: _
For this th- I't to trial, i
statutes under : : Po-r'a? : : : .:
were declared rr :-! I i^rn ;. .:::;^
to the king. Td^ -:..:;:.:.; : ihis property for
the years 1536 and 1537 were conferred succesively
upon Beller. i d t two years' income paid
compositions r, . d :: 350 marks and ^£^300
Scots. About the same time, it is believed, occurred
his promotion to the archdeaconry itself and his
appointment as a canon of Ross.
Little more is known of the poef s life A strenuous
opponent of the new heresy, as the movonent of the
no JOHN BELLENDEN.
Reformation was called, he appears to have done all
in his power to resist its progress, and at last, finding
his utmost efforts in this direction vain, to have
betaken himself to the headquarters of counsel at
Rome, where he died in 1550.*
The catalogue of Bellenden's works, though im-
portant in more than one detail, is not of great
length. He is said to have written a treatise, De
Litera Pythagora. — the letter upsilon, in the form of
which Pythagoras had chosen to see certain emble-
matical properties. Of this treatise nothing is now
known. It is to his translations of Boece and Livy
that the Archdeacon of Moray owes his chief fame.
The first edition of the Latin History of Scotland by
Hector Boece, consisting of seventeen books, had
been printed at Paris in 1526, and dedicated to
James V.t That king's knowledge of Latin must
have been strictly limited, as we know from Lyndsay
he was withdrawn from school at twelve years of
age. His desire, therefore, for a translation into the
vernacular may be understood. Bellenden's transla-
tion, with Boece's " cosmographe," or description of
Scotland, prefixed, was published at Edinburgh in
*Dr. Irving quotes the statements of Conn, Bale, and Dempster
respectively for these three facts. But both the date and place
remain, as he remarks, uncertain; and by some, as by Sibbald
in his C/uvnicle of Scottish Poetry, Bellenden is stated to have
died at Paris.
t Hector Boece, born 1465-66, was Principal of King's College,
Aberdeen, then newly founded by Bishop Elphinstone; and he
died Rector of Tyrie in Buchan, in 1536. The second edition
of his History was not published till 1574. It included the
eighteenth and part of the nineteenth book by Boece, and a
continuation to the end of the reign of James III. by the
celebrated scholar Ferrerius.
JOHN BELLENDEN. m
1 54 1,* and has the credit of being the earhest
existing prose work in the Scottish language. The
translator divided Boece's books into chapters, and,
from a reference in his proheme, apparently meant
to bring the history down to his own time. As a
translation the work is somewhat free, Bellenden
having taken the liberty of correcting errors and
supplying omissions where he thought right. Never-
theless it soon became the standard translation of
the historian, and was the version which, with inter-
polations from the histories of Major, Lesley, and
Buchanan, was used by Hollinshed, being the direct
channel, therefore, through which Shakespeare derived
the story of Macbeth. As a contribution to literature
it remains the earliest and the most ample specimen
we possess of Scottish prose, "Rich," as its latest
editor has said, "in barbaric pearl and gold," while
"the rust of age has not obscured the fancy and
imagery with which the work abounds," it affords an
admirable illustration of the force and variety of the
language in which it was written.
At the end of his translation Bellenden appended
an epistle to the king — one of these sound, if some-
what plain, admonitions which his courtiers apparently
did not scruple to address to James the Fifth. It
deals boldly with the distinction between a king and
a tyrant, and does not hesitate to hold up by way of
*0n the title page the translator is styled "Archdene of
Murray and Chanon of Rosse," and, as Irving points out, he
was not in possession of these titles at the time of purchasing
escheat in 1538. The date of 1536 sometimes assigned to this
edition is probably therefore a mistake. Only two copies of the
edition are now known to exist.
112 JOHN BELLENDEN.
example the fate which has constantly overtaken the
wickedness of princes.
The best edition of Bellenden's Boece is that
edited, with a biographical introduction by Thomas
Maitland, Lord Dundrennan, and published at Edin-
burgh in two volumes, quarto, in 182 1. The only
edition of the Livy is one by the same editor, printed
in 1822 from a manuscript in the Advocates' Library.
The translation extends only to the first five books
of the original, though it was Bellenden's intention
to furnish a complete version of his author. The
work actually done is characterised, like the transla-
tion of Boece, by great fluency and vividness, and a
natural happiness of style.
But it is to Bellenden's work as a poet that the
chief consideration is here due. To each of his three
translations he prefixed a poetical proheme, or preface,
of some length ; before the title-page of his Boece
appears a quaint " Excusation of the Prentar " which
must be attributed to him; and a separate poem of
twenty-two stanzas by him, entitled "The Benner of
Pietie, concerning the Incarnatioun of our Saluiour
Chryst," forms one of the duplicate articles in the
Bannatyne MS., printed by the Hunterian Club,
1878-86.* These five compositions represent his
entire poetical achievement so far as is known.
*This MS., by the older writers on Bellenden, is called some-
times the " Carmichael Collection," from the name of the owner
who lent it to Allan Ramsay, sometimes the " Hyndford MS.,"
from John, third Earl of Hyndford, who presented it to the Advo-
cates' Library. This difference of appellation has not lessened
the confusion hitherto involving the poet and his work.
JOHN BELLENDEN. 113
Though printed each in its due place, as above
indicated, they have never been collected in a single
volume. *
Bellenden's chief poem is the proheme to the
cosmographe prefixed to his translation of Boece. It
bears no real relation to the work which it precedes,
and is believed to have been written before 1530.
Modelled upon the classical allegory of the " Choice
of Hercules," it is addressed to James V., and with
great tact seeks to convey a somewhat pertinent moral
lesson to that youthful monarch. The original title
of the composition is understood to have been
"Virtew and Vyce"; and after the poetic fashion
of its time the allegory is cast in form of a dream.
It describes the wooing of a handsome young prince,
whose personality can hardly be mistaken, by two
lovely and splendidly attired ladies. Delight and
Virtue. With quaint shrewdness the poet contrives
to awaken at the proper moment, saving himself the
invidious task of describing the prince's choice.
The proheme to the history is a graver and less
poetical production, though bearing a closer relation
to the work which follows. The chief object of
history, it declares in effect, is to set forth the noble
deeds of the past as an example to the present —
a task performed with great array of classic informa-
tion. The most striking passage of the poem is the
*The prohemes from the translation of Boece, after being
copied in part by Bannatyne in his MS., were inckidcd in
Ramsay's Evergreen and in Sibbald's Chronicle of Scottish Poetry.
The prologue to Livy was printed first by Dr. Leyden in the
dissertation prefixed to his edition of The Complaynt of Scotland.
I HI
114 JOHN BELLENDEN.
descant on nobility, which occupies nine out of the
twenty-nine stanzas. Some of the lines in this have
all the incisiveness of the clearest-cut aphorism.
Somewhat the same theory of history forms the
burden of the prologue to Livy. The chief interest
of this piece consists, perhaps, as Lord Dundrennan
pointed out, in its representation of James V. as a
patron of literature. The opening stanzas, however,
are not without a certain warlike resonance suited to
a prelude of Roman deeds of arms.
Altogether, though not of the era-making order,
and though comparatively limited in quantity, the
poetry of Bellenden is worthy of more attention than
it has hitherto received. In allegoric method and in
form of verse it follows the fashion of its day, and
it shares that fashion's faults ; but, these drawbacks
apart, it is marked by great skill and smoothness of
versification, by no small descriptive charm, and by
a certain happy vividness of imagery which again and
again surprises and delights the reader. One can
almost feel the breath of
Notus brim, the wind meridiane,
With wingis donk, and pennis full of rane;
and a seascape rises instantly before the eye at
mention of the
Carvell ticht, fast tending throw the se.
Beyond this, Bellenden shows himself a careful
student of human nature, with more than one
significant word to say upon the subject.
VIRTEW AND VYCE.
The Proheme of the Costttographe prefixed to Boece's History.
|UHEN silvir Diane, ful of bemis bricht,
Fra dirk ^ eclips wes past, this othir nicht, ' From dark.
And in the Crab, hir propir mansion, gane;
Artophilax contending at his micht
In the gret eist to set his visage richt,
I mene the ledar of the Charle-wane,
Abone^ our heid wes the Ursis twane; = Above.
Quhen .sterris small obscuris in our sicht
And Lucifer left twinkland him allane ;
The frosty nicht with hir prolixit houris
Hir mantill quhit spred on the tender flouris ;
Quhen ardent lauboure hes addressit mc
Translait the story of our progenitouris,
Thair gret manheid, hie wisdome, and honouris ;
Quhen we may cleir as in ane mirroure se
The furius end, sum-time, of tirannie.
Sum-time the glore of prudent governouns
Ilk stait apprisit3 in thair faculte;
3 valued.
My wery spreit desiring to repres
My emptive pen of frutles besines,
Awalkit furth to tak the recent aire;
Quhen Priapus, with stormy weid oppres,
ii6
JOHN BELLENDEN.
Raqueistit me in his maist tendernes
To rest ane quhile amid his gardingis bare,
'could. Bot I no maner couth ^ my mind prepare
To set aside unplesand hevines,
On this and that contempUng solitare.
= unworthy.
3 Till.
4 harried.
And first occurrit to my remembring
How that I wes in service with the King,
Put to his Grace in yeris tenderest,
Clerk of his Comptis, thoucht I wes inding^,
With hart and hand and every othir thing
That micht him pleis in ony maner best;
Quhill3 hie invy me from his service kest
Be thaim that had the Court in governing,
As bird but plumes heryit^ of the nest.
3 though.
6 cares.
Our life, our giding, and our aventuris
Dependis from thir hevinlie creaturis
Apperandlie be sum necessite.
For thoucht 5 ane man wald set his besy curis^,
So far as laboure and his wisdome furis,
To fle hard chance of infortunite;
Thoucht he eschew it with difficulte,
7 doom yet con- 'pj^g cm-git weird yit ithandlie enduris?
stantly endures. ■' '
Gevin to him first in his nativitie.
8 earthly.
9 swam.
Of erdlie^ stait bewaling thus the chance,
Of fortoun gud I had na esperance.
So lang I swomit9 in hir seis deip
"deifbefauon. That sad avising^ with hir thochtful lance
VIRTEW AND VYCE.
Couth find na port to ankir hir firmance;
Quhill Morpheus, the drery god of sleip,
For very reuth did on my curis weip,
And set his sleuth' and deidly contenance
With snorand vanis throw my body creip.
117
« slothful.
Me-thocht I was in-to ane plesand meid,
Quhare Flora maid the tender blewmis spreid
Throw kindlie dew and humouris nutrative,
Quhen goldin Titan, with his flammis reid,
Abone the seis rasit up his heid,
Diffounding^ down his heit restorative
To every frute that nature maid on live,
Quhilk wes afore in-to the winter deid,
For stormis cald and frostis penitrives.
= Diffusing.
3 penetrative.
Ane silver fontane sprang of watter cleir
In-to that place quhare I approchit neir
Quhare I did sone espy ane fellown reird'*
Of courtly gallandis in thair best maneir
Rejosing thaim in season of the yeir,
As it had bene of Mayis day the feirds.
Thair gudlie havingis maid me nocht affeird \
With thaim I saw ane crownit King appeir,
With tender downis rising on his beird.
4 loud noise.
S fourth.
Thir courtlie gallandis settand thair intentis
To sing, and play on divers instrumentis.
According to this Princis appetit;
Two plesand ladyis come pransand ouir the bentis^;*^^^^^'^''^-
ii8
fOHN BELLENDEN.
I revenues.
2 was named.
Thair costlie clethin schew thair michty rentis'.
Quhat hart micht wis, thay wantit nocht ane mit ;
The rubeis schone apone thair fingaris quhit;
And finalie I knew, be thair consentis,
This ane Virtew, that other hecht^ Delite.
3 as they
deemed best.
4 splendour.
5 enterprise.
S choose.
Thir goddesses arrayit in this wise,
As reverence and honoure list devise.
Afore this Prince fell down apon thair kneis.
Syne dressit thaim in-to thair best avises,
So far as wisdome in thair power lyis.
To do the thing that micht him best appleis
Quhare he rejosit in his hevinly gleis"*;
And him desirit, for his hie empryiss,
Ane of thaim two unto his lady cheis^.
And first Delite unto this Prince said thus,
" Maist vailyeant knicht, in dedis amorus,
7 most agreeable. And lustiest^ that cvir nature wrocht.
8 Who.
9 earth.
Quhilk^ in the floure of youth mellifluus.
With notis sweit and sang melodius
Awalkis heir amang the flouris soft,
Thow hes no game bot in thy mery thocht.
My hevinly blis is so delicius.
All welth in erd?, bot it, avails nocht.
10 powerful.
"Thoucht thow had France, and Italic also,
Spane, Inglande, Pole, with othir realmes mo,
Thoucht thow micht regne in stait maist glorius,
Thy pissant'° kingdome is nocht worth ane stro
VIRTEW AND VYCE. 119
Gif it unto thy pleseir be ane fo,
Or trubill thy mind with curis dolorus.
Thair is na-thing may be so odius
To man, as leif' in miserie and wo, >iive.
Defraudand God of nature genius.
" Dres the thairfore with all thy besy cure,
That thow in joy and pleseir may indure,
Be sicht of thir= four bodyis elementar; ' ^Uii? °^
Two hevy and grosse, and two ar licht and pure.
Thir elementis, be wirking of nature,
Douth change in othir; and thocht thay be richt far
Fra othir severit, with qualiteis contrar.
Of thaim ar maid all levand creature.
And finalie in thaim resolvit ar.
" The fire in air, the air in watter cleir,
In erd the watter turnis without weir3, sttoubt.
The erd in watter turnis ouir agane,
So furth in ordour; na-thing consumis heir.
Ane man new borne beginnis to appeir
In othir figure than afore wes tane"*; 4 was taken.
Quhen he is deid the mater dois remane,
Thoucht it resolve in-to sum new maneir;
No-thing new, nocht bot the forme is gane.
" Thus is no-thing in erd bot fugitive,
Passand and cumand be spreiding successive.
And as ane beist, so is ane man consave
Of seid infuse in membris genitive,
120
JOHN BELLENDEN.
And furth his time in pleseir dois ouir-drive,
As chance him ledis, quhill he be laid in grave.
Thairfore thy hevin and pleseir now ressave
Quhill thow art heir in-to this present live;
For eftir deith thow sail na pleseir have.
1 without.
2 prevent.
3 must.
4 devoured.
S folded.
fi To caress and
embrace.
" The rose, the lillyis, and the violet,
Unpullit, sone ar with the wind ouirset.
And fallis doun but ' ony frut, I wis :
Thairfore I say, sen that no-thing may let^
Bot thy bricht hew mon3 be with yeris fret 4,
(For every-thing bot for ane season is,)
Thow may nocht have ane more excellent blis
Than ly all nicht in-to min armis plets,
To hals and brais^ with mony lusty kis,
7 wit.
8 pleasure.
" And have my tender body be thy side.
So propir, fet, quhilk nature hes provide
With every pleseir that thow may devine.
Ay quhill my tender yeris be ouir-slide.
Than gif it pleis that I thy bridill gide
Thow mon alway fra agit men decline;
Sine dres thy hart, thy curage, and ingine^
To sufifir nane into thy hous abide
Bot gif thay will unto thy lust^ incline.
9 float.
" Gif thow desiris in the seis fleit9
Of hevinly blis, than me thy lady treit ;
For it is said be clerkis of renoun
Thair is na pleseir in this eird so gret
VI R TEW AND VYCE.
121
As quhen ane luffar dois his lady meit,
To quikin his Ufe of raony deidly swon.
As hiest pleseir but comparison
I sail the geif, into thy yeris svvete,
Ane lusty halk with mony plumis broun,
" Quhilk sal be found so joyus and plesant,
Gif thow unto hir mery flichtis hant^
Of every blis that may in erd appeir,
As hart will think, thow sail no plente want,
Quhill yeris swift, with quhelis properant^
Consume thy strenth and all thy bewte cleir."
And quhen Delite had said on this maneir,
As rage of youtheid thocht maist relevant
Than Virtew said as ye sail eftir heir.
• give practice.
- with forward-
moving wheels.
" My landis braid, with mony plentuus schire^,
Sail gif thy Hienes, gif thou list desire.
Triumphant glore, hie honoure, fame devine,
With sic pissance that thaim na furius ire.
Nor werand^ age, nor flame of birnand fire.
Nor bitter deith, may bring unto rewine.
Bot thow mon first insuffer mekill pines,
Abone thy-self that thow may have empire ;
Than sail thy fame and honoure have na fine^
3 shires, iit. dis-
tricts sheared
off.
4 vexing.
S much pain.
6 end.
" My realme is set among my fois all ;
Quhilkis hes with me ane weir 7 continewall,
And evir still dois on my bordour ly ;
And, thoucht thay may no wayis me ouirthrall^,
7 war.
i overcome.
' constant war-
fare.
122 fOHN BELLENDEN.
Thay ly in wait, gif ony chance may fall
Of me sum-time to get the victory.
Thus is my life ane ithand chevalryM
Laubour me haldis Strang as ony wall
» makes breach in. And no-thing brckis^ me bot slogardy.
" Na fortoun may aganis me availl
Thoucht scho with cludy stormis me assaill.
I brek the streme of scharp adversite.
3 serene. j^ wcddir louin3, and maist tempestius haill,
But ony dreid, I beir ane equall saill,
My schip so Strang that I may nevir de.
Wit, reason, manheid, governis me so hie,
No influence nor sterris may prevaill
To regne on me with infortunite.
4 not be daunted. <« The rage of youthcid may nocht dan tit be'*
But gret distres and scharp adversite;
As be this reason is experience —
The finest gold or silver that we se
May nocht be wrocht to our utilite
But flammis kene and bitter violence.
The more distres the more intelligence.
Quhay salis lang in hie prosperitie
Ar sone ouirset be stormy violence.
" This fragill life, as moment induring.
But dout sail the and every pepill bring
s certain. To sickirs bUs Or than eternal wo.
Gif thow be honest lauboure dois ane thing.
VI RTF IV AND VYCE.
123
Thy panefuU laubour sail vanes but tarying',
Howbeit thy honest werkis do nocht so.
Gif thow be lust dois ony thing also,
The schamefull deid, without dissevering,
Remanis ay, quhen pleseir is ago^.
' shall vanish
without delay.
' gone.
" As carvell ticht, fast tending throw the se,
Levis na prent amang the wallis hie ;
As birdis swift, with mony besy plume,
Peirsis the aire, and waits nocht quhare thay fle;
Siclik^ our life, without activite,
Giffis na frut, howbeit ane schado blume.
Quhay dois thair life into this erd consume
Without virtew, thair fame and memorie
Sail vanis soner than the rekys fume.
3 know.
4 In such fashion.
5 smoky.
"As watter purgis and makis bodyis fair,
As fire be nature ascendis in the aire
And purifyis with heitis vehement.
As floure dois smell, as frute is nurisare.
As precius balme revertis thingis sare^
And makis thaim of rot impacient,
As spice maist swete, as ros maist redolent.
As stern of day 7, be moving circulare,
Chasis the nicht with bemis resplendent;
* converts sores.
7 the day st.ir,
i.e. the sun.
"Siclik my werk perfitis^ every wicht
In fervent luf of maist excellent licht.
And makis man into this erd but peir9,
And dois the saule fra all corruptioun dicht'
8 perfects.
9 without peer.
10 wipe, cleanse.
124
JOHN BELLENDEN.
With odoure dulce, and makis it more bricht
Than Diane full, or yit Appollo cleir,
sphere. gine rasis it unto the hiest speir',
Immortaly to schine in Goddis sicht,
As chosin spous and creature most deir.
2 called.
3 hurts.
4 mingled.
"This othir wenche, that clepit^ is Delite,
Involvis man, be sensuall appetite.
In every kind of vice and miserie;
Becaus na wit nor reason is perfite
Quhan scho is gide, bot skaithis3 infinite,
With doloure, schame, and urgent poverte.
For sche wes get of frothis of the see,
Quhilk signifies, hir pleseir vennomit
Is midlit4 ay with scharp adversite.
5 warlike rage.
6 slit.
7 delicate.
" Duke Hanniball, as mony authouris wrait,
Throw Spanye come, be mony passage strait,
To Italy in furour bellicalls;
Brak doun the wallis, and the montanis slait^.
And to his army maid ane oppin gait,
And victoryis had on the Romanis all.
At Capua, be pleseir sensuall,
This Duk wes maid so soft and diligait^
That with his fois he wes sone ouirthrall.
8 warlike.
9 reigned.
" Of feirs Achill the weirlie^ dedis sprang
In Troy and Grece quhill he in virtew rang 9:
How lust him slew it is bot reuth to heir.
Siclik the Trojanis, with thair knichtis Strang
VIRTEW AND VYCE.
X2S
The vailyeant Grekis fra thair roumes dang',
Victoriuslie exercit mony yeir :
That nicht thay went to thair lust and pleseir
The fatall hors did throw thair wallis fang^ =bite
Quhais prignant sidis war full of men of weir.
' drove from their
realms.
" Sardanapall, the prince effeminat,
Fra knichtlie dedis wes degenerat;
Twinand the thredis of the purpur lint
With fingaris soft, amang the ladyis sat,
And with his lust couth nocht be saciat,
Quhill of his fois come the bitter dint.
Quhat nobill men and ladyis hes bene tints
Quhen thay with lustis wer intoxicat,
To schaw at lenth, my toung suld nevir stints.
3 lost.
stop.
"Thairfore Camil, the vailyeant chevaleir,
Quhen he the Gallis had dantit be his weirS,
Of heritable landis wald have na recompence;
For, gif his barnis^ and his freindis deir
Wer virtewis, thay couth nocht fail ilk yeir
To have ineuch be Romane providence;
Gif thay wer gevin to vice and insolence
It wes nocht neidfull for to conques geir?
To be occasioun of thair incontinence.
5 daunted by his
war.
6 children.
7 acquire sub-
stance.
"Sum nobill men, as poetis list declare,
Wer deifeit^, sum goddis of the aire,
Sum of the hevin, as Eolus, Vulcan,
Saturn, Mercury, Appollo, Jupitare,
S.yeified.
' illustrious.
» high above
genius.
126
fOHN BELLENDEN.
Mars, Hercules, and othir men preclare%
That glore immortall in thair livis wan.
Quhy wer thir peple callit goddis than?
Becaus thay had ane virtew singulare,
Excellent, hie abone ingine^ of man.
3 repulsive.
4 darkness.
"And otheris ar in reik sulphurius;
As Ixion, and wery Sisiphus,
Eumenides the Furyis richt odibill,
The proud giandis, and thristy Tantalus;
With huglie3 drink and fude most vennomus,
Quhare flammis bald and mirknesf ar sensibill.
Quhy ar thir folk in panis so terribill?
Becaus thay wer bot schrewis vicius
Into thair life, with dedis most horribill.
"And thoucht na frute wer eftir consequent
Of mortall life, bot for this warld present
5 solely. Ilk man to have allanerlies respect,
Yit virtew suld fra vice be different
As quik fra deid, as rich fra indigent.
That ane to glore and honour ay direct,
This othir, saule and body, to neclect;
That ane of reason most intelligent.
This othir of beistis following the affect.
6 would not. "For he that nold^ aganis his lustis strive,
'consciourof Bot Icififis as beist of knawlege sensitive?,
sages!^^^ ^^ Eildis^ richt fast, and deith him sone ouir-halis9,
9 overhauls. Thairfore the mule is of ane langar live
VIRTEW AND VYCE.
Than stonit hors; also the barant wive' .
Apperis young quhen that the brudie falls'
We se also, quhen nature nocht prevails,
The pane and dolour ar sa pungitive
No medicine the pacient avails.
127
■ barren wife.
" the prolific fails.
"Sen thow hes hard baith our intentis thus,
Cheis of us two the maist delitius;
First, to sustene ane scharp adversite,
Danting the rage of youtheid furius.
And sine posseids triumphe innumerus.
With lang empire and hie felicite;
Or half, ane moment, sensualite
Of fuliche youth, in life voluptuous,
And all thy day is full of miserie."
3 And then
possess.
Be than, Phebus his firy cart did wry
Fra south to west, declinand besaly
To dip his steidis in the occeane,
Quhen he began ouirsilc^ his visage dry
With vapouris thik, and cloudis full of sky,
And Notus brims, the wind meridiane
With wingis donk and pennis full of rane,
Awalkenit me, that I micht nocht aspy
Quhilk of thaim two was to his lady tanc.
4 corer over.
5 strong, raging.
Bot sone I knew thay war the goddesses
That come in sleip to vailyeant Hercules
Quhen he was young and fre of every lore
To lust or honour, poverte or riches.
• adorn.
praise.
128
JOHN BELLENDEN.
Quhen he contempnit lust and idilnes
That he in virtew micht his Hfe decore',
And werkis did of maist excellent glore.
The more incressit his panefuU besines,
His hie triumphe and loving^ was the more.
Thair, throw this morall eruditioun
Quhilk come, as said is, in my visioun,
I tuke purpos, or I forthir went.
To write the story of this regioun,
3 champion. With dcdis of mony illuster campioun3.
And, thoucht the pane apperis vehement,
To mak the story to the redaris more patent
I will begin at the discriptioun
Of Albion, in maner subsequent.
NOBILNES.
Frovi the Pro/ieine to the Translation of Boece's History.
For iiobilnes sum-time the loving is',
That cumis be meritis of our eldaris gone.
As Aristotill writis in his Rethorikis,
Amang nobiUis, quhay castin thaim repone"
Mon3 dres thair Hfe and dedis one be one
To male thaim worthy to have memore
For honour to thair prince or nation,
To be in glore to thair posterite.
• the praise is.
- those who pro-
pose to take
place.
'^ must.
Ane-othir kind thair is of nobilnes
That cumis be infusion naturall,
And makis ane man sa full of gentilnes,
Sa curtes, plesand, and sa liberall.
That every man dois him ane nobill call.
The lion is sa nobill, as men tellis,
He cannot rage aganis the bestis small,
Bot on thaim quhilkis^ his majeste rebellis.
4 whicli.
The awfulls churle is of ane-othir strind''.
Thoucht he be borne to vilest servitude
Thair may na gentrice? sink into his mind.
To help his freind or nichtbour with his gud.
K
III
S fcirful.
^ strain, race.
7 courtesy.
I same stock.
■ overcome.
130
JOHN BELLENDEN.
The bludy wolf is of the samin stude';
He feris gret beistis and ragis on the small,
And leififis in slauchter, tyranny, and blud.
But ony mercy, quhare he may ouirthrall^.
This man is born ane nobill, thovv will say,
And gevin to sleuth and lust immoderat :
All that his eldaris wan, he puttis away,
And fra thair virtew is degenerat;
The more his eldaris fame is elevat
The more thair life to honour to approche ;
Thair fame and loving ay interminat,
The more is ay unto his vice reproche.
3 host. Amang the oists of Grekis, as we hard.
Two knichtis war, Achilles and Tersete;
That ane maist vailyeand, this othir maist coward.
Better is to be, sayis Juvinall the poete,
Tersetis son, havand Achilles sprete.
With manly force his purpos to fulfill,
Than to be lord of every land and strete,
4 come, begotten. And syne maist cowart, cumin ^ of Achill.
5 care.
' dying.
Man, callit ay maist nobill creature,
Becaus his life maist reason dois assay,
Ay sekand honour with his besy cures.
And is na noble quhen honour is away.
Thairfore he is maist nobill man, thow say,
Of all estatis, under reverence,
That vailyeantly doith close the latter day,
Of native cuntre deand^ in defence.
NOBILNES.
131
The glore of armis and of forcy dedis/ « powerful deeds.
Quhen thay ar worthy to be memoriall,
Na les be wit than manheid ay procedis.
As PHnius wrait in Story Natural!,
Ane herd of hertis is more strong at all,
Havand ane lion aganis the houndis foure,
Than herd of lionis arrayit in battall,
Havand ane hert to be thair governoure.
Quhen fers Achilles was be Paris slane,
Amang the Grekis began ane subtell plede,
Quhay was maist nobill and prudent capitane
Into his place and armour to succede;
Quhay couth ^ thaim best in every dangeir lede, = who could.
And sauf3 thair honour as he did afore. 3 save, preserve.
The vailyeant Ajax wan not for his manhede
Quhen wise Ulysses bure away the glore.
Manhede but prudence is ane fury blind,
And bringis ane man to schame and indegence.
Prudence but manhede cumis oft behind,
Howbeit it have na les intelligence
Of thingis to cum than gone, be sapience.
Thairfore quhen wit and manhede doith concurre
Hie honour risis with magnificence :
For glore to noblis is ane groundin spurre.
ADDRESS
TO BELLONA AND KING JAMES V.
From the '■^Prolong apoun the Traduction of Titus Livius."*
Armipotent lady, Bellona serene,
I hazards of war. Goddcs of wisdome and jeoperdyis of were^
Sister of Mars, and ledare of his rene.
And of his batallis awfull messingere !
Thy werelyke trumpett thounder in mine ere —
The horribill battellis and the bludy harmes —
To write of Romanis, the nobil men of armes.
And bricht AppoUo with thy cours eterne,
That makis the frutis spring on every ground,
And with thy mychty influence dois governe
^""worW."^^ The twynkland sternes about the mappamound'^!
3 diffuse. 'pj^y fyjy yisage on my vers diffound3,
dull mteifig^nce^ And quikin the spretis of my dull ingine-*
'iame""^' With rutilands bemes of thy low^ divine.
And ye my soverane be line continewall,
' Ay cum of kingis your progenitouris,
And writis in ornate stile poeticall
Quik-flowand vers of rethorik cuUouris,
* The prologue consists of twenty stanzas, of which the first
four and the last are here printed.
ADDRESS.
133
Sa freschlie springand in youre lusty flouris
To the grete comforte of all trew Scottismen,
Be now my muse and ledare of my pen !
That be youre helpe and favoure gracius
I may be abill, as ye commandit me,
To follow the prince of storie, Livius,
Quhais curious ressouns tonit ar so hie.
And every sens sa full of majeste
That so he passes uther stories all,
As silver Diane dois the sternis^ small.
' stars.
For I intend of this difficill werk
To male ane end or I my lauboure stint %
War not the passage and stremes ar sa stark3,
Quhare I have salit, full of crag and clynf,
That ruddir and takillis of my schip ar tynts;
And thus my schip, without ye mak support
Wil peris lang or^ it cum to the port.
= stop.
3 stronjj, hard to
encounter.
4 hard rock.
5 lost.
6 perish long ere.
THE EXCUSATION OF THE
PRENTAR.
Prefixed to the Translation of Boece's History.
• Spirit. Ingyne' of man be inclinatioun
In sindry wyse is geuin, as we se.
Sum men ar geuin to detractioun,
Inuy, displeseir, or malancolie,
And to thair nychbouris hes no cherite.
Sum ar so nobill and full of gentilnes,
Thay luf no-thing bot joy and merynes.
2 Some are deep. Sum ar at vndir% and sum maid vp of nocht:
thinking. , . •
3 war. Sum men lufifis peace, and sum desiris weir 3.
Sum is so blyth in-to his mery thocht
4 cares. He curis* nocht, so he may perseueir
In grace and fauour of his lady deir.
6f^f^; Sum boldins at othir in maist cruell feid^
7 death. With lance and dagar rynnis to the deid^.
Ane hes that mycht ane hundreth weil sustene,
8 lives. And leiffis^ in wo and pennance at his table,
9 of good fellows p^^^ Qf (J fallois comptis nocht ane bene 9:
counts not a o i- '
bean. jjjg wrcchit myud is so insaciable;
As heuin and hell wer no-thing bot ane fable
ioHeburns,with-He bimis ay, but sycht'° to gud or euil,
out regard.
And rynnis with all his baggis to the deuil.
EXCUSATION.
135
And I the prentar, that dois considir well
Thir sindry myndis of men in thair leuing',
Desiris nocht hot on my laubour leil^
That I mycht leif, and of my just wynnyng
Mycht first pleis God, and syne our noble Kyng,
And that ye reders bousum and attents
Wer of my laubour and besynes content.
' living.
= loyal.
3 compli.int and
attentive.
And in this wark, that I haue heir assailyeit
To bring to lycht, maist humely I exhort
Yow nobill reders, quhare that I haue failyeit
In letter, sillabe, poyntis lang or schort.
That ye will of your gentrice it support 4,
And talc the sentences the best wyse ye may;
I sail do better, will God, ane-othir day.
4 of your courtesy
forbear with it.
5 composition.
ANNO DOMINI.
The opening stanzas of ^^ The Benner of Piette."
QuHEN goldin Phebus movit fra the Ram
Into the Bull to mak his mansioun,
And hornit Dean in the Virgin cam
With visage paill in hir assentioun,
Approcheand to hir oppositioun;
Quhen donk Awrora with hir mistie schowris,
Fleand of skyis the bricht reflexioun,
'scattered. Hir silucr tciris skalit^ on the flouris;
The sesoun quhen the greit Octauian
dearth. Baith erd^ and seis had in his gouernance
With diademe as roy Cesarian
In maist excellent honor and plesance,
With every gloir that micht his fame advance;
Quhen he the croun of hie triumphe had worne,
Be quhais peax and royell ordinance
3 declared rebel. The furious Mars wes blawin to the home 3:
See note, p. 97. '
4 same. The samyne'* tyme quhen God omnipotent
Beheld of man the greit callamitie,
And thocht the tyme wes than expedient
Man to redeme fra thrald captiuite,
ANNO DOMINI. 137
And to reduce him to felicitie
With body and sawle to be glorificat
Quhilk wes condempnit in the lymb' to bie 'Umbo.
Fra^ he wes first in syn prevaricat; ''^S!'^"'"^
Before the Fader, Mercye than appeiris
With flude of teris rainnand fra hir ene,
Said, "Man hes bene in hell fyve thowsand j'eiris,
Sen he wes maid in feild of Damascene,
And cruwall tormentis dayly dois sustene
But ony confort, cryand for mercie.
How may thy grace nocht with thy pietie mene^ 3 lament.
Oif thy awin* werk the greit infirmitie?" lo^vn.
"And be the contrare," then said Veretie,
" Thy word eterne but end is permanent,
Vnalterat, but mvtabilitie,
Withowttin slicht of ony argument \
Quhen Adame wes fund inobedient
In Paradice thruche his ambitioun,
Perpetualy, be richtous jugement.
Off thy blist visage tynts fruisioun." siost.
Than Pece said, " Lord haif in thy memorie
That man, thy wark, was creat to that fyne^ ''e"<^'
That he micht haif perfyte felicitie
With the aboif the hevynis cristellyne —
Quhilk Lucifer did thrwch his foly tyne —
Sumtyme maid to thy image worthiest :
It wes said than be prophecie devyne
That thow sowld sleip and in my bosom rest."
138
JOHN BELLENDEN.
' aggravated.
2 suffer.
3 death.
And Justice said, "His odius offence
Contrare thy hie excellent dignitie,
His oppin syn and wilfull negligence,
Befoir thy sicht sowld mair aggregit' bie,
Sen thow art Alpha, O, and Veretie :
Be richtous dome, Adame and all his seid,
For tressone done agane thy maiestie,
Condempnit is to thoill^ the bitter deid3."
Thir ladeis foure, contending beselie
With argumentis and mony strong repplyis,
Beffoir the blissit Fader equalie,
Sum for justice, and sum for mercie cryis.
The Fader vvret ane sentence in this wyiss,
" For tressone done aganis oure maiestie,
The bittir deid salbe ane sacrifyiss
The grit offence of man to satisfie."
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
More romance is associated in the popular mind of
Scotland with the career of James the Fifth than with
that of any other of the romantic race of Stuart, except
perhaps the last of the line, the hero of the '45. For
three centuries stories of the amours and escapades
of "the Gudeman of Ballengeich" have formed the
familiar tradition of the countryside ; his exploits have
been the subject of innumerable songs, ballads, and
minstrel lays, from "The Jolly Beggar" itself, to
"The Lady of the Lake"; and even at the present day
the eye of a Scotsman kindles with lively reminiscence
at mention of the kindly " King of the Commons."
Son of that gallant James who fell at Flodden, and
of Margaret, the hot-blooded sister of Henry VIIL,
he might have been predicted to make for himself a
life more eventful than that of most men. His time,
besides, fell at a crisis in Scottish history — the meeting
of the counter currents of the old order and the new
in the Reformation. Whatever the causes, the fact
remains that from his birth at Linlithgow on loth
April, 15 1 2, till his death at Falkland on 14th
142 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
December, 1542, the career of James V. presents a
continuous series of personal episodes as dramatic as
anything on the historic stage. Dating his reign from
the most tragic disaster in Scottish history, he was
crowned King of Scotland before he could speak,
a month after his father's death on the battlefield.
Smiled on by the Muses in his cradle, his childish
gambols have been made a sunny picture for all time
by the verses of his childhood's companion, one of
the greatest of the national poets. Invested with the
sceptre at twelve years of age, at sixteen he suddenly
astonished his enemies by proving that he could wield
it, making himself at one stroke and in a few hours
absolute master of Scotland.
Nothing, perhaps, shows one side of the character
of James — his decision, daring, and resolute energy —
better than the transaction of the night in May, 1528,
when, slipping the Douglas leash at Falkland, he
galloped through the defiles of the Ochils with Jockie
Hart, and appeared at once as unquestioned king
among his nobles at Stirling. As energetic, however,
and almost as dramatic were the young monarch's
measures for restoring order in his disordered realm.
Under the Douglas usurpation every abuse had been
rampant, might had everywhere overridden right, and
outrage had everywhere scorched the land with sorrow
and fire. Such a state of things was only to be
righted by an iron hand, and if the acts of James
have sometimes appeared severe to modern eyes,
there can be no doubt that severity was needed. In
particular, the young king's descent upon the Border
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 143
has been remembered in story and song.* Shutting
up the Border lords beforehand in Edinburgh,
he swept suddenly through Ettrick Forest, Eskdale,
and Teviotdale, surprising freebooters like Cockburn
of Henderland, Scott of Tushielaw, and Johnnie
Armstrong, in their own fastnesses, and by the execu-
tion of swift, sharp justice reduced these lawless regions
forthwith to tranquillity. Rebellions in the Orkneys
and the Western Isles were quelled with tact and
promptitude ; the attempts of the Douglases upon
the marches were met and defeated by superior force,
and the insidious approaches of Henry VIII. were
checkmated by sending a force of seven thousand
Highlanders over seas to assist O'Donnel, the Irish
chief, in his efforts to shake off the English yoke.
One incident in the life of James illustrates vividly
the spirit of extravagant devotion which the character
of the Stuarts from first to last seems to have been
capable of exciting in their followers. During a royal
progress through his dominions the young king was
entertained by the Earl of Athole in a sumptuous
palace of wood erected for the occasion on a meadow
at the foot of Ben y Gloe. Hung with tapestries of
silk and gold, and lit by windows of stained glass,
this palace, surrounded by a moat and by towers of
defence in the manner of a feudal castle, lodged the
king more luxuriously than any of his own resi-
dences. Yet on the departure of the royal cavalcade
the Earl, declaring that the palace which had lodged
* The dramatic incidents of the raid have been immortalized
in famous ballads like "Johnnie Armstrong;," "The Sang of the
Outlaw Murray," and "The Border Widow's Lament."
144 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
the sovereign should never be profaned by accommo-
dating a subject, to the astonishment of the Papal
legate who was present, ordered the whole fabric, with
all that it contained, to be given to the flames.
It was at this period of his life that James engaged
in most of those romantic adventures by which, under
his assumed name of " the Gudeman of Ballengeich,"
he is popularly remembered. He was as fearless as
he was energetic, and upon tidings of misdeeds, how-
ever remote, he made no hesitation in getting instantly
on horseback and spurring at the head of his small
personal retinue to attack and punish the evil-doers.
In these excursions he constantly shared extreme
perils and privations with his followers. These and
the perils of his too frequent intrigues with the fair
daughters of his subjects form the burden of most of
the traditions current regarding him. One of the
most characteristic of these traditions is preserved by
Scott in his Tales of a Grandfather, was used by the
great romancist for the plot of "The Lady of the
Lake," and forms the subject of the favourite drama
of " Cramond Brig." Another, hardly less dramatic
and amusing, also preserved by Scott, is that of James's
turning the tables upon Buchanan of Arnpryor, the
bold " King of Kippen."
None of his adventures, however, surpasses in
romantic incident the weightier matter of the king's
own marriage. In the hope of withdrawing Scotland
from the support of France in the great continental
rivalry then going on, the Emperor Charles V. had in
turn offered James alUance with his sister, the Queen
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 145
of Hungary, his niece the daughter of the King of
Denmark, and with a second niece the Princess Mary
of Portugal: while Henry VHI. had offered his own
daughter Mary to the young monarch. In one case
the whole of Norway was offered by way of dowry.
But James had a mind of his own on the subject,
and was not to be tempted from the ancient policy
of the country. Sir David Lyndsay was accordingly
despatched to arrange a marriage with the daughter
of the Due de Vendome, the head of the princely
house of Bourbon. The treaty was all but concluded,
when suddenly, among the attendants of some nobles
freshly arrived from Scotland, the princess recognised
James himself. Irking at his envoy's delay he had hit
upon this device for forming personal acquaintance
with his bride, but his identity was betrayed by a
portrait which he had previously sent her. For eight
days he was sumptuously entertained by the Bourbons,
but, dissatisfied in some way with the choice which
had been made for him, he formed an excuse to visit
the court of Francis I. There he fell in love with
the king's eldest daughter, the fragile Princess
Magdalene. She, it appears, became also passion-
ately attached to him, and, notwithstanding all
obstacles — the warnings of the physicians and the
reluctance of Francis to expose his daughter to an
inhospitable chmate, the two were married on ist
January, 1537, and after four months of rejoicings
and utmost happiness sailed for Scotland. The
gallant fleet of fifty ships sailed up the Firth of
Forth on the 28th of May, and it is narrated that as
L III
146 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
she landed to pass to Holyrood the fair young queen
stooped down and kissed the soil of her husband's
country.
This romantic method of royal match-making, how-
ever, must be considered to have cost James dear.
His continued absence from the country had left room
for the machinations of his enemies; his previous good
fortune seemed, upon his return, to fail him ; and
worst of all, amid the increasing troubles of the time he
seems to have been oppressed by a certain foreboding.
Forty days after landing, and while preparations were
being made for her triumphal progress through the
country, the seventeen-year-old queen died. "And,"
says Lindsay of Pitscottie, "the king's heavy moan
that he made for her was greater than all the rest."
A second marriage, it is true, was, for political reasons,
and with the approval of Francis, forthwith arranged
for James, and in the summer of 1538 Marie, daughter
of the Due de Guise, was received with gallant dis-
play by her royal consort at St. Andrews. But three
months later, news arrived from France that the
daughter of the Due de Vendome had sickened of her
disappointment, and was dead. "Quhairat," to quote
Pitscottie again, " when the King of Scotland got wit,
he was highlie displeased (distressed), thinkand that he
was the occasion of that gentlewoman's death also."
Meanwhile the intrigues of Henry VIII. and the
banished Douglases had succeeded in corrupting a
great part of the Scottish nobility. Twice was the life
of James attempted ; first by the Master of Forbes, a
brother-in-law of the Earl of Angus, and next by
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 1^7
Angus's sister, Janet Douglas, Lady Glammis. With
envious eyes and diminishing loyalty the Scottish
nobles saw the English peers enriched by Henry's
distribution of the confiscated church lands, while
James consistently refused to carry out the same
plan of spoliation in Scotland. The climax of the
young king's troubles was reached in 1542. Hitherto
Henry VHL, in his designs upon the independence
of the northern kingdom, had confined himself to
the arts of policy and bribery, suborning the trusted
servants of the crown, and embroiling James between
the rights of the church and the ambition of the
nobles. Now, however, the time seemed ripe, and he
sent the English forces openly across the Border.
These were met and routed with courage and promp-
titude; and, overjoyed at his success, the Scottish
king had made full preparations for retaliating, and
was marching south at the head of his army, when
at Fala his nobles suddenly refused to carry war into
England, and forced him to abandon the campaign.
This dishonour before his people, followed imme-
diately by the disgraceful rout of a Scottish army at
Solway Moss, broke the gallant young monarch's heart.
To add to his sorrows his two infant sons had died
Avithin a short time of each other. Upon hearing of
the destruction of his troops he shut himself up in the
palace of Falkland, where, overwhelmed with grief and
despair, he sank under a burning fever. One hope
still sustained him : the birth of an heir to the throne
was hourly expected. On the 7th of December news
arrived that the queen had been safely delivered. To
148 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
the king's eager question the messenger repHed that the
infant was "ane fair dochter." "Is it so?" said James;
" Fairweill ! The crown cam with a lass, and it will
gang with a lass." Whereupon, in the quaint words
of Pitscottie, "he commendit himselff to the Almightie
God, and spak litle from thensforth, hot turned his
back to his lords and his face to the wall." On the
14th of December he passed away.
There exists an interesting description of James
from the pen of Ronsard, who accompanied the queen
from France and was a servant at the Scottish court.
Ce Roy d'Escosse etoit en la fleur de ses ans ;
Ses cheveux non tondues, comme fin or luisans,
Cordonnez et crespez, flottans dessus sa face,
Et, sur son cou de lait, luy donnoit bon grace.
Son port etoit royal, son regard vigoureux,
De vertus et d'honneur et de guerre amoureux ;
La douceur et la force illustroit son visage,
Si que Venus et Mars en avoient fait partage.
,' Not yet thirty-one years of age at his death, and not-
1 withstanding the corrupting influences to which in
, early youth he had been purposely exposed by the
Douglases, James had shown himself a noble and
active prince. Had he gone with the tide and con-
sented to gratify his courtiers with the plunder of
the monasteries, like Henry VHI., his reign might
have been less troubled and his memory less maligned
by interested historians. He has been chiefly accused
of an unrelenting severity towards members of the
house of Douglas, and of cruelty in assenting to the
death of Lady Glammis. Buchanan's assertion, how-
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 149
ever, of the innocence of this lady, though followed
by many historians, has been sufficiently answered by
Tytler;* and James's consistent refusal to show favour
to the Douglases can be blamed by no one who takes
into consideration the king's early treatment by that
house, the insult and ravage with which they met his
assumption of power, their persistent attempts to
undermine his authority and take his life, and the
final success which, by his death in the prime of man-
hood, finally crowned their efforts. Like his ancestor,
the first of his name, James succeeded for a time in
making "the bush keep the cow" in Scotland, and
had he only been moderately supported by those who
should have been his lieutenants, there can be no
doubt that he would presently have made his realm a
model of just administration. As it is, his reign must
be honourably remembered for what he accomplished
in this direction, and for the wise laws which he made
for the restraint of feudal violence. A monument of
his administrative power exists in the establishment
of the College of Justice, which, under the name of
the Court of Session, remains the supreme tribunal
of Scotland to the present day.
But there is reason for believing that James the Fifth 1
left evidence of genius in another field. Drummond
of Hawthornden in his History (p. 346) states that
" James V. was naturally given to poesie, as many of
* History of Scotland, vol. ii., p. 361, and note z. The his-
torian shows that the attempt to poison the king was Ijy no
means the first capital offence of which Lady Glammis had been
convicted, though her youth and beauty were used by the
reforming party to excite popular feeling against James.
150 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
his works yet extant testifie." Bellenden in his pro-
logue to Livy thus addresses the king :
And ye, my soverane, be line continewall
Ay cum of kingis youre progenitouris,
And writis in ornate stile poeticall
Quik-flowand vers of rethorik cullouris,
Sa freschlie springand in yourc lusty flouris
To the gret comfort of all trew Scottismen,
Be now my Muse and ledare of my pen.
And one of Lyndsay's poems, the "Answer maid to
the Kingis Flyting" leaves no doubt on the subject.
The writer begins by stating that he has read the
monarch's "ragment," and he ends with a compliment
on the royal verse :
Now, Schir, fairweill, because I can nocht flyte ;
And thocht I could I wer nocht till avance,
Aganis your ornate meter to indyte.
The fame of James V.'s poetical talents is even under-
stood to have spread as far as Italy, and to have led
to his mention by Ariosto.*
Four separate poems attributed to James are extant
at the present day — "Peblis to the Play," "Christis
Kirk on the Grene," "The Gaberlunzieman," and
" The Jolly Beggar." The authorship of the last two
of these has at no time been seriously questioned.
The authenticity of "Peblis to the Play" and "Christis
Kirk," however, has been the subject of considerable
debate, some critics assigning these two poems to
James the First. The evidence on both sides may
be briefly stated.
John Mair, who wrote his history De Gestis Scotorum
in 15 18, states that James I., among his other compo-
* Orlando Furioso, canto xiii., stanzas 8 and 9.
KING /AMES THE FIFTH. 151
sitions, wrote a pleasant and skilful song, "At Beltayn,"
which, since the original was inaccessible, certain
persons had sought to counterfeit. It happens that
the opening stanza of "PebHs to the Play" begins
with "At Beltane." This, with the fact of the poem's
mention in "Christis Kirk," forms the chief plea for
attributing "Peblis to the Play" to James I. Next,
the earliest known copy of "Christis Kirk," that in
the Bannatyne MS. (1568), is subscribed "Quod K.
James the First." This is the only external evidence
for ascribing the poem to that monarch. On the
other hand, by those who dispute the authorship of
James I., the slightness of Mair's evidence regarding
" Peblis to the Play," and the presumption of Banna-
tyne's blundering regarding "Christis Kirk," have
been dwelt upon. "At Beltayn," it is remarked, was
in the sixteenth century, by Mair's own statement,
a hackneyed opening to a poem ; while, as for
Bannatyne's colophon, it is pointed out that in the
title of the next poem but one in his collection he
writes "James the Fyift," or as some read it, "the
Fyrst," in mistake for James the Fourth, and he may
have made a similar error in regard to "Christis
Kirk." In support of this view it is asserted* that by
common tradition, previous to the discovery of the
Bannatyne MS., these poems were invariably attri-
buted to James V.; and this assertion is supported
by the usage of the early writers, Dempster in the
beginning of the seventeenth century. Bishop Gibson
in 1691, and James Watson in 1706. The authority
* Sibbald's Chronicle of Scottish Poetry.
152 KING /AMES THE FIFTH.
of these writers, however, no less than that of common
tradition, has in turn been questioned by the sup-
porters of the claim of James I.,* and it has been
pointed out that in Maitland's MS. (1585) no name
is appended to " Pebhs to the Play," an omission
which, it is suggested, could hardly have occurred had
Maitland known James V. to be the author. But
again, in support of James V. it may reasonably be
urged that the important poem of "Christis Kirk" is
mentioned in their histories neither by Mair nor by
Bellenden when dealing with James I. ; that that king
is not even mentioned among the makars by Dunbar
in his famous "Lament"; that none of the four poems
is to be found in the MS. of John Asloan, written
before James V.'s time, in 15 15; and that while
Lyndsay in his earlier composition, the prologue to the
"IJapyngo," in 1530,! makes no mention of James I.
as a reputed author, in 1538, in his "Justyng betui.x
Watsoun and Barbour," he pays "Christis Kirk" the
compliment of copying several conspicuous expres-
sions,! the natural inference being that "Christis
* Irving's History of Scottish Poetry, p. 145.
t The failure of Dunbar, Asloan, and Lyndsay to mention
James I. upon the strength of "The Kingis Quair" may be
accounted for by the situation of that poem, the only copy now
known to exist being that contained in the Selden MS. in the
Bodleian Library at Oxford. No such argument can account
for the overlooking of popular pieces Hke "Christis Kirk" and
"Peblis to the Play" had they been then in existence.
J In " Christis Kirk " occur the expressions —
"His lymmis wcs lyk twa rokkis; .
Ran vpoun vtheris lyk rammis; .
Bet on with barrow trammis;"
and in "The Justyng " we find —
" Quod Jhone, 'Ilowbeit thou thinkis my leggis lyke rokkis . . .
Yit, thocht thy braunis be lyk twa barrow-trammis,
Defend thee, inan!' Than ran thay to, lyk rammis."
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 153
Kirk" was not composed before the former year.
On the whole, therefore, the external evidence may
be considered almost evenly balanced. The internal
evidence is somewhat more delicate.
The familiarity with peasant manners and character
which both poems display had been made much of as
an argument. This, however, can be held to prove
nothing, since both James I. and James V. are said to
have had the habit of wandering among their subjects
in disguise. Neither can the language of the compo-
sitions be taken as of much account. The more
antique words, as in the expressions, "Ye sail pay
at ye aucht," " He hydis tyt" and "On thame swyth,^'
are paralleled by James V.'s contemporaries, Douglas
and Lyndsay, and probably lingered late in the use
of the common people whom the poems describe;
while, on the other hand, more modern words, like
"ane," "quha" (in the sense of "who"),* "began,"
and "happenis" (halfpence), which might be used to
support the claims of James V., may be accounted
for by changes introduced in transcription. An in-
genious argument has been adduced from the use,
or rather misuse of archery in "Christis Kirk."t
James I., it appears, upon his return from captivity,
made a law compelling the constant practice of the
bow; and it has been suggested that that king,
wishing to fortify the statutes of law by the aid of
ridicule, wrote the poem as a satire upon the clum-
siness of the Scottish peasantry in the use of the
* See Murray's Dialect of the Southern Counties of Scotland,
pp. 56 and 69.
t Rogers' Poetical Remains of King James /., 1873.
154 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
weapon. The same critics aver further that archery
had become obsolete in the time of James V.,
hagbut and arquebus having taken its place. The
argument, however, appears somewhat conjectural.
According to Barbour's Bruce the bow was one of the
chief Scottish weapons of war from the earliest times,
and an island in Loch Lomond still bears the yew-
trees said to have been planted by King Robert for
its supply ; while so late as the time of Queen Mary
the bow remained a favourite weapon in the field of
sport, if not in the field of battle.* A serious obstacle
ni the way of attributing these poems to James I. has
been pointed out by Professor Skeat in the lateness of
their style and metre. He remarks, as an instance,
that in stanza 19 of "Peblis to the Play" we find
stokks rhymed with ox^ whereas in the time of James I.
the plural of stok was stokkis.\ Further, he remarks,
" It will be found by no means easy to point out any
undoubted example of the use of the rollicking metre
(of these poems) anterior to the year 1450 ; whereas
James I. died in 1437." Another point might be made
of the fact that poems of this burlesque description
seem to have been greatly in vogue about James V.'s
time. It is enough to cite "The Tournament of
Tottenham" printed by Percy, Dunbar's "Justis
betuix the Tailyour and the Sowtar," Lyndsay's
*In 1526-27, according to the Treasurer's Accounts, ;({^ 1 3 6s. 8d.
was paid "to Johne Murray the Kingis harbour, for corsbowis,
windaiss, and ganzies " (crossbows, pulleys, and arrows). And
Alexander Scot in his poem "Of May," circa 1550, describes
the merry gathering of archers " To schute at buttis, at bankis,
and brais."
t Introduction to The Kingis Quair, Scottish Text Society,
1883-84.
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 155
" Justing betuix James Watsoun and Jhone Barbour,"
and Scot's "Justing at the Drum." The most cogent
argument, however, should naturally be one derived
from the general tone of the poems. On this point
one writer, Guest, in his English Rhythms, has said,
"One can hardly suppose those critics serious who
attribute this song ('Christis Kirk') to the moral and
sententious James I."; and Professor Skeat has added
that "while there is no resemblance to 'The Kingis
Quair' discoverable (in these poems), there is a
marked dissimilarity in the tone, in the vocabulary,
and in the metre." On the other hand, it is to be
observed that the style and strain of humour, both
of "Peblis to the Play" and of "Christis Kirk,"
resemble as closely as possible those of " The Gaber-
lunzieman" and "The Jolly Beggar," which have
always been attributed to James V., while they are
also in entire keeping with what is known of the actual
humour and temper of that king.
Absolute proof of the authorship, it must be ad-
mitted, is wanting, but upon the whole the available
evidence appears to favour James V. ; the majority
of the critics, from Warton and Ritson to Stopford
Brooke, have favoured this view ; and, to quote
Sibbald, "it appears safer in this instance to trust
to vulgar tradition than to the ipse dixit of Bannatyne,
who seems to have had but an indistinct notion of our
different kings of the name of James."
The earliest and best copy of " Christis Kirk on the
Grene" is that contained in Bannatyne's MS., now
made available by the Hunterian Club. The poem is
156 KING JAMES THE FIFTH,
also contained in the Maitland MS., from which it
was printed by Pinkerton in his Ancient Scottish Poems
(Appendix II., 444). " PebHs to the Play " is also
contained in the Maitland folio, and was printed from
it by Pinkerton in his Select Scottish Ballads in 1783.
Of both poems there have been many other editions.
Most of these, however, contain texts very much cor-
rupted, and none of the editors except Pinkerton
appears to have seen the Maitland MS. "The
Gaberlunzieman " and "The Jolly Beggar" have
shared the haphazard fortune of their sister composi-
tions, and in their case it is more difficult to ascertain
a standard text. All four pieces are printed in the
Perth edition of "The Works of James I.", 1786,
though the editor mentions that "The Gaberlunzie-
man" and "The Jolly Beggar" are commonly ascribed
to James V. In the present volume " The Gaberlun-
zieman " follows the text given in Percy's Reliques of
Ancient English Poetry^ while "The Jolly Beggar"
follows that in Ritson's Scottish Songs.
"Christis Kirk" has for several hundred years been
one of the most popular of Scottish poems. Dr. Irving
cites as a proof of its fame and popularity in the
eighteenth century the lines of Pope :
One likes no language but the Faery Queen ;
A Scot will fight for Christ's Kirk o' the Green.
As an illustration of ancient rustic humour and a
description of low manners in its time it remains
perhaps the best thing in the language. The only
composition which competes with it for the first place
in its class is the " Jolly Beggars " of Robert Burns.
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. 157
The two additional cantos which Allan Ramsay wrote
for it in no way approach the spontaneity and bois-
terous energy of the original poem.
" Peblis to the Play " deals with a similar subject in
similar manner, and has generally been considered to
possess less merit than " Christis Kirk." It certainly
falls short of the riotous uproar of its companion
piece, and beats the air throughout with a gentler
wing; but its touches describing traits of rustic
character are not less deft, the humour is here and
there of a tenderer sort, and the subject displays more
variety. The poem presents an admirable picture of
the day's enjoyment of rustic lads and lasses at a
country fair, and is not the less artistic for its touch
of rustic pathos near the end.
" The Gaberlunzieman " and " The Jolly Beggar "
are said by tradition to celebrate two of James V.'s
own adventures with country girls. It must be ac-
knowledged that they are quite in keeping with the
legends current regarding the too gallant monarch.
One such tradition, recorded by Percy, narrates how
the king used to visit a smith's daughter at Niddry,
near Edinburgh ; but it is not known whether the
intrigue with her had any connection with either of
the poems. Whatever the facts of the case, the two
compositions remain unsurpassed examples of a cer-
tain typical, pawky vein of Scottish humour. "The
Jolly Beggar," besides, contains in burlesque miniature
all the essentials of a romantic drama.
Upon the strength of these four compositions a
place may be claimed for James V. in the first rank
iS8 KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
of the writers of humorous pastoral poetry — poetry
which finds its inspiration in the actual common life
of the people. In this department the king has been
rivalled, though hardly surpassed, only by the inspired
peasant, Burns himself. Regarding the vitality of his
work a trenchant remark has recently been made by
one of the foremost critics of the day.* "While much
of the contemporary and earlier poetry of Scotland,"
he says, " is now read only as an historical illustration
of the development of literature, that of James V., if
he really wrote the gay pieces attributed to him, is
read for its native merit."
* In The Daily News, March 19, 1892.
PEBLIS TO THE PLAY.
T Beltane,* quhen ilk bodie bownis^
To Peblis to the play,
To heir the singin' and the soundis,
The solace, suth to say ;
Be firth 2 and forrest furth they founds,
Thay graythif* tham full gay;
God wait that wald thay do that stounds,
For it was thair feist day,
Thay said.
Of Peblis to the play.
' when each
person sets
forth.
2 By outland.
3 went.
4 clad.
3 time, occasion.
All the wenchis of the west
War up or the cok crew;
For reiling^ thair micht na man rest.
For garray and for glew?.
Ane said "My curches^ ar nocht prest!"
Than answerit Meg full blew 9,
"To get an hude I hald it best."
"Be Goddis saull that is true!"
Quod scho'°,
Of Peblis to the play.
* Beltane, believed to be from the Gaelic Beal-tein, or Baal
fire, was the great Druid festival of the first of May. The sports
of Beltane, it appears, were celebrated at Peebles till a recent
date, when a market was established, known as the Beltane Fair.
^ turmoil.
7 For prepara-
tion and sport.
^ kerchiefs.
9 gloomy.
■o Said she.
i6o
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
' collarette.
^ permitted not.
3 band, ribbon.
4 so foolish and
playful.
5 knew.
6 weep not.
7 lost.
8 market.
9 so badly sun-
burnt.
1° carrj- my rags,
i.e. woven cloth.
" shall once
venture.
"look by stealth.
'3 Man, woman,
and prentice-
lad (Hob, caile,
curdower).
'4 Gathered out
thick-fold.
»S thronged out.
'6 steadings un-
numbered.
'7 over the plain.
She tuik the tippet^ be the end;
To lat it hing scho leit not^.
Quod he, "Thy bak sail beir ane bend
"In faith," quod she, "we meit not!'
Scho was so guckit and so gend^
That day ane byt scho eit nocht.
Than spak hir fallowis that hir kends,
" Be still, my joy, and greit not^,
Now,
Of Peblis to the play !"
" Evir, allace!" than said scho,
"Am I nocht cleirlie tynt^?
I dar nocht cum yon mercat^ to,
I am so ewil sone-brint?.
Amang you merchands my dudds do'°,
Marie; I sail anis mynt"
Stand of far and keik^^ thaim to,
As I at hame was wont,"
Quod scho.
Of Peblis to the play.
Hop, calye, and cardronow'3
Gaderit out thik-fald'^;
With "hey and how rohumbelow"
The young folk were full bald.
The bagpipe blew, and thai out-threw 's
Out of the townis untald'^.
Lord, sic ane schout was thame amang
Quhen thai were ower the wald'7,
Thair west,
Of Peblis to the play !
3-"
PEBLIS TO THE PLAY.
i6i
Ane young man stert in-to that steid^
Als cant 2 as ony colt,
Ane birken hat upon his heid,
With ane bow and ane bolt;
Said " Mirrie madinis, think not lang3,
The wedder is fair and smolt^:"
He cleikit up ane hie ruf sangS;
" Thair fure"^ ane man to the holt 7,"
Quod he,
Of Peblis to the play.
Thay had nocht gane half of the gait^
Quhen the madinis come upon thame;
Ilk ane man gaif his consait9
How at^° thai wald dispone" thame.
Ane said, " The fairest fallis me ;
Tak ye the laif" and fone'3 thame."
Ane-uther said " Wys lat me be !
On, Twedell syd, and on thame
Swyth^ti
Of Peblis to the play."
' started in that
place.
=> lively.
3 become not
weary.
4 clear, mild.
5 raised a high
rough song.
^ fared.
7 wood.
' way.
9oonceit, opinion.
'° that.
" dispose of.
'2 remainder.
'3 play the fool
with.
14 Swiftly.
Than he to-ga and scho to-ga's,
And never ane bad abyd you.
Ane winklot'^ fell, and her taill up,
"Wow," quod Malkin^7j "hyd yow !
Quhat neidis you to maik it sua^^?
Yon man will not ourryd'9 you."
**Ar ye owr gude^°," quod scho, "I say.
To lat thame gang^' besyd yow.
Yonder,
Of PebUs to the play?"
M 1"
'5 encountered.
'* young woman.
'7 maukin, a little
maid.
'8 to play the
mate so.
«9 override.
^ too good.
='go.
1 62
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
> Laughed.
= Was come.
Than thai come to the townis end
Withouttin more delai,
He befoir, and scho befoir,
To see quha was maist gay.
All that luikit thame upon
Leuche ' fast at thair array :
Sum said that thai were merkat folk,
Sum said the Quene of May
Was cumit^
Of Peblis to the play.
3 jollity.
4 words wondrous
brave.
5 Have done (?).
6 "Set up the
board," he
calls soon.
7 dance, party.
8 napery be white.
9 good woman,
hostess.
«o wall.
" Wait till we
reckon our
lawing (bill).
" that ye owe.
'3 laugh.
'4 scorn.
Than thai to the taverne hous
With meikle oly3 prance;
Ane spak wi' wourdis wonder crous^
"A dones with ane mischance!"
" Braid up the burde," he hydis tyt^,
"We ar all in ane trance ?.
Se that our napre be quhyt^,
For we will dyn and daunce
Thair out,
Of Peblis to the play."
Ay as the gudwyf^ brocht in,
Ane scorit upon the wauch^°.
Ane bad pay, ane-ither said "Nay,
Byd quhill we rakin our lauch"."
The gud-wyf said, " Have ye na dreid ;
Ye sail pay at ye aucht"."
Ane young man start upon his feit,
And he began to lauche^3j
For heydin'4
Of Peblis to the play.
PEBLIS TO THE PLAY.
163
He gat ane trincheour in his hand
And he began to compt ;
"Ilk man twa and ane happenie'!
To pay thus we war wount."
Ane-uther stert upon his feit,
And said "Thow art our blunt ^
To tak sic office upoun hand !
Be God thow servite ane dunts
Of me,
Of Peblis to the play."
" Ane dunt," quod he, " quhat dewil is that ?
Be God, yow dar not du'd!"
He stert till ane broggit stauf't,
Wincheand as he war woodes.
All that hous was in an reirde^:
Ane cryit, " The halie rude !
Help us, Lord, upon this erde''.
That thair be spilt na blude
Heirin,
Of PebUs to the play!"
Thay thrang out at the dure at anis,
Withouttin ony reddin^.
Gilbert in ane gutter glayde9 —
He gat na better beddin.
Thair wes not ane of thame that day
Wald do ane-utheris biddin :
Thairby lay thre and threttie-sum '°
Thrunland" in ane midding
Off draff'^
Of Peblis to the play.
■ twopence half-
penny.
' over stupid.
3 deserved a blow.
4 pointed staff.
5 Wincing as he
were mad.
^ uproar.
7 earth.
8 clearance,
settlement.
9 slid.
'o Thirty-three
lay there.
" Tumbling
about.
" distiller's
waste.
1 64
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
' A hawker on the
market street.
2 debate, battle.
3 overtake.
Ane cadgear on the mercat gait'
Hard thame bargane^ begin;
He gaiff ane schout, his wyff came out ;
Scantlie scho micht ourhye^ him.*
4 glimpse.
5 separate.
* leaped.
7 girthing.
8 At once.
9 dirtied.
'0 became.
" low-born.
'2 counsel.
'3 Go home his
ways.
He held, scho drew, for dust that day
Micht na man se ane stymc*
To reds thame
Of PebHs to the play.
He stert to his greit gray meir.
And of he tumblit the creilis.
"Alace!" quod scho, "hald our gude-man !"
And on hir knees scho kneilis.
"Abyd," quod scho; "Why, nay," quod he;
In-till his stirrapis he lap^;
The girding? brak, and he flew of,
And upstart bayth his heilis
At anis^
Of Peblis to the play.
His wyf came out, and gaif ane schout
And be the fute scho gat him ;
All bedirtin9 drew him out;
"Lord God, richt weil that sat'° him!"
He said, "Quhare is yon cubroun" knaif?"
Quod scho, " I reid '^ ye, lat him
Gang hame his gaites'3." "Be God," quod he,
I sail anis have at him
Yit,
Of Peblis to the play."
Two lines of the stanza have here apparently been lost.
PEBLIS TO THE PLAY.
I6S
'Ye fylit' me, fy for schame!" quod scho;
" Se as^ ye have drest^ me !
How feil ye, schir?" "As my girdin brak,
Quhat meikle'* devil may lasts me.
I wait^ weil quhat ; it wes
My avvin gray meir that kest me,
Or gif I wes forfochtin'' faynt.
And syn^ lay doun to rest me
Yonder,
Of Peblis to the play."
« defiled.
2 See how.
3 treated.
4 great.
5 hinder.
6 know.
7 fatigued.
8 then.
Be that 9 the bargane was all playit ;
The stringis stert out of thair nokks'°;
Sevin-sum that the tulye" maid
Lay grufifling'^ in the stokks.
John Jacksoun of the nether vvarde
Had lever have gififin'3 an ox
Or'4 he had cuming in that cumpanie.
He sware be Goddis lockkis
And mannis bayth.
Of Peblis to the play.
With that Will Swane come sueitand out,
Ane meikle miller man ;
" Gif I sail dance have donn 's, lat se,
Blaw up the bagpyp than !
The schamou's dance ''^ I mon begin
I trow it sail not pane."
So hevelie he hockit'? about,
To see him. Lord, as^^ thai ran
That tyd,
Of Peblis to the play !
9 By the time that.
'o notches
(of bows).
" broil.
'2 grovelling.
'3 Had rather
given.
'4 Ere.
'S favourite.
'C a dance now
unknown.
'7 jerked, rocked.
'*> how.
i66
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
dwelling.
- performs won-
drous long.
3 laughed.
4 hence your
ways.
5 enough.
6 So fiercely fire-
hot.
7 Tibbie, Isabella.
8 latch.
9 encountered.
'° all the men to
cackle.
" quite nothing.
Thay gadderit out of the toun',
And neirar him thai dreuche ;
Ane bade gif the daunsaris rowme ;
Will Swane makis wounder teuche^
Than all the wenschis Te he ! thai playit
But, Lord, as Will Young leuche3!
" Gude gossip, come hyn your gaitis-*,
For we have daunsit aneuche^
At anis
At Peblis at the play."
Sa ferslie fyr-heit^ wes the day
His face began to frekill.
Than Tisbe? tuik him by the hand,
Wes new cuming fra the Seckill.
"AUace!" quod scho, "quhat sail I do?
And our doure hes na stekill^!"
And scho to-gas as hir taill brynt,
And all the cairlis to kekilP°
At hir,
Of Peblis to the play.
The pyper said, "Now I begin
To tyre for playing to,
Bot yit I have gottin naething
For all my pyping to you.
Thre happenis for half ane day,
And that will not undo you ;
And gif ye will gif me richt nocht"
The meikill devill gang wi' you !"
Quod he,
Of Peblis to the play.
PEBLIS TO THE PLAY.
167
Be that the daunsing wes all done,
Thair leif tuik les and mair;
Quhen the winklottis and the wawarris twvnit' ''he wenches and
^ wooers parted.
To se it was hart sair.
Wat Atkin said to fair AIes%
"My bird 3, now I will fayr."
The dewil a wourde that scho might speik,
Bot swownit that sweit of swair-*
For kyndnes,
Of Peblis to the play.
He sippilits lyk ane faderles fole;
"And be still, my sweit thing!"
" Be the halyrud of Peblis
I may nocht rest for greting^."
He quhissillit and he pypit bayth
To mak hir blyth that meiting :
" My hony part, how sayis the sang,
' Thair sail be mirth at our meting
Yit,'
Of Peblis to the play."
2 Alison.
3 damsel.
4 swooned that
sweet one of
the glen foot.
S sifiped, uttered
a sipping sound.
6 weeping.
Be that the sone was settand schaftis.
And neir done wes the day.
Thair men micht heir schriken of chaftis^
Quhen that thai went thair way.
Had thair bein mair made of this sang
Mair suld I to yow say.
At Beltane ilka bodie bownd
To Peblis to the play.
7 shock of lips,
i.e. osculation.
CHRYSTIS KIRK ON THE
GRENE.*
' merriment,
disorder.
= wooers.
3 think.
4 prepared.
5 gay of manners.
6 doeskin.
7 coarse woollen.
8 Lincoln-green.
9 simple, foolish.
'° approached.
" goats, kids.
Wa.s nevir in Scotland hard nor sene
Sic dansing nor deray',
Nowthir at Falkland on the grene
Nor Peblis at the play,
As wes of wowaris% as I wene^,
At Chryst kirk on ane day.
Thair come our kitteisf weschin clene
In thair new kirtillis of gray,
Full gay,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
To dans thir damysellis thame dicht'*,
Thir lassis licht of laitiss,
Thair gluvis wes of the raffell^ rycht,
Thair schone wes of the straitis^;
Thair kirtillis wer of lynkome^ licht,
Weill prest with mony plaitis.
Thay wer so nyss? quhen men thame nicht'°
Thay squeilit lyk ony gaitis",
So lowd.
At Chrystis kirk of the grene that day.
* The Christ's Kirk of the poem, in Tytler's opinion, was that
near Dunideer in Aberdeenshire. About the burial ground of
the ancient kirk was a green where, so late as the end of last
century, a yearly fair was still held on the 1st of May. " In
former times," says Tytler, "this fair was continued during the
night, from which circumstance it was called by the country
people Sleepy Market. On such occasions it was natural that
such disorders as are so humorously described by the royal
author should have taken place."
t Kittie, now the common abbreviation of Catherine, was in
James's time the general name for a playful girl.
CHRYSTIS KIRK.
169
Of all thir madynis myld as meid
Wes nane so gympt' as Gillie;
As ony ross hir rude= wes reid,
Hir lyre 3 wes lyk the lillie;
Fow4 yellow yellow wes hir held,
Bot scho of lufe wes sillies ;
Thocht all hir kin had sworn hir deid^
Scho wald haif bot sweit Willie
Allone,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Scho skornit Jok and skraipit? at him,
And mvrionit him with mokkis^;
He wald haif luvit, scho wald nocht lat him,
For all his yallow loikkis :
He chereist hir, scho bad ga chat him 9;
Scho compt'° him nocht twa clokkis";
So schamefully his schort goun set him,
His lymmis wes lyk twa rokkis",
Scho said,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
1 slim, dainty.
2 the ruddy part
of the face.
3 skin.
4 Full.
5 frail, i.e. she
was love-sick.
6 death.
7 girded.
2 mocked him by
making mouths.
9 go hang himself.
i<5 counted.
'• clucks.
1= distaffs.
Thome Lular wes thair menstrall meit ;
O Lord! as he cowd lanss'3;
He playit so schill^'*, and sang so sweit
Quhill Towsy tuke a transs^s.
Auld Lychtfute thair he did forleit'^.
And counterfutit Franss ;
He vse'7 him-self as man discreit
And vp tuke moreiss danss.
Full lowd,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
13 how he did
launch (the
fiddle-bow).
•4 shrill.
'5 an ancient
dance.
'6 forsake.
'7 behaved.
I70
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
' stepping in with
long strides.
^ course.
3 Flat-fooled.
4 bounds.
5 He leaped till
he lay on his
buttocks.
6 exerted.
7 coughed.
8 began.
9 dragged.
1° drove him side-
wise (gable-
wards).
'I The angry man
clutched the
stave.
'2 did not they
have by the ears.
'3 blow of the fist.
14 pulled.
•S such wrath did
move him.
i6 Great hurt was
it to have
frightened.
'7 chose an arrow.
'8 become.
'9 other.
'^ pierce.
2' pierced.
22 acre's breadth.
Than Stevin come stoppand in with stendis';
No rynk^ mycht him arreist.
Platfute3 he bobbit vp with bendis*;
For Maid he maid requeist.
His lap quhill he lay on his lendisS;
Bot rysand he wes preist^
Quhill that he oistit? at bath the endis
For honour of the feist,
That day,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Syne Robene Roy begowth^ to revell,
And Dwny till him druggit^;
" Lat be," quo Jok; and cawd him javell'°
And be the taill him tuggit.
The kensy cleikit to the cavell",
Bot Lord ! than gif thay luggit '^,
Thay pairtit hir manly with a nevell'3,
God wait gif hair wes ruggit'^
Betuix thame,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Ane bent a bow, sic sturt cowd steir him^s-
Grit skay th wesd to half skard '^ him ;
He chesit a flane'7 as did affeir'^ him,
The toder'9 said " Dirdum Dardum."
Throwch baith the cheikis he thocht to cheir^^, him,
Or throw the erss half chard-' him;
Bot be ane akerbraid^^ it come nocht neir him,
I can nocht tell quhat mard him,
Thair,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
CHRYS7IS KIRK.
171
With that a freynd of his cryd "Fy!"
And vp ane arrow drew;
He forgit' so fowriously
The bow in flenders- flew;
Sa wes the will of God, trow I,
For had the tre bene trew
Men said that kends his archery
That he had slane anew*,
That day,
At Chrystis kirk on the grene.
Ane hasty hensures callit Hary,
Quha wes ane archer heynd^,
Tilt 7 vp a taikle withowttin tary^.
That torment so him teynd^.
I wait nocht quhidder his hand cowd wary'°.
Or the man wes his freynd,
For he eschaipit" throw michtis of Mary
As man that no ill meynd^^,
Bot gud,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Than Lowry as ane lyon lap.
And sone a flane cowd fedder'3-
He hecht^-* to perss him at the pap,
Thair-on to wed a weddir^s.
He hit him on the wame a wap'^,
It buft^7 lyk ony bladder;
]3ot swa his fortoun wes and hap
His dowblet wes maid of ledder,
And saift him,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
> let fly.
2 splinters.
3 knew.
4 enough.
5 giddy fellow.
6 skilful.
7 Snatched.
S delay.
9 enraged.
i^ did vary.
" escaped.
12 designed.
'3 arrow did
feather.
'4 offered,
promised.
'5 to wager a
wether.
>6 on the belly a
knock.
■7 sounded.
172
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
' conceited.
2 Loosed.
3 aimed at the
man.
4 cowhouse.
5 quiver.
6 let (drive).
7 kicked.
8 stout fellows.
9 roof beams.
10 buffeted.
" Till theyof men
made bridges.
12 uproar.
'3 spars.
14 ridges, backs.
'5 my love lies.
i6 snarled and let
drive with
groans.
'7 vexed the other.
'S pikes.
'9 dwellings.
2° proved.
21 unbruised
bones.
22 Where fighters
were hurt.
A yaip' yung man that stude him neist
Lowsd^ of a schot with yre;
He ettUt the berns in at the breist,
The bolt flew our the byrel
Ane cryit Fy ! he had slane a preist
A myll beyond ane myre ;
Than bow and bags fra him he keist
And fled as ferss as fyre
Of flynt,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
With forkis and flaihs thay lait^ grit flappis,
And flang7 togiddir lyk friggis^;
With bowgaris9 of barnis thay beft'° blew kappis
Quhill thay of bernis maid briggis".
The reird'^ raiss rudly with the rappis,
Quhen rungis^3 vves layd on riggis'*;
The wyffis come furth with cryis and clappis,
" Lo quhair my lyking liggis^si"
Quo thay
At Chryst kirk of the grene.
Thay girnit and lait gird with granis"^
Ilk gossep vder grevit'?;
Sum straik with stingis'^, sum gadderit stanis,
Sum fled and evill mischevit ;
The menstrall wan within twa wanis'9,
That day full weill he previt-°,
For he come hame with vnbirsed banis^'
Quhair fechtaris wer mischevit ^^
For evir,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
CHRYSTIS KIRK.
173
Heich' Hucheoun, with a hissill ryss^,
To red 3 can throw thame rummill-*;
He mudlets thame doun lyk ony myss^,
He wes no barty-bummill?.
Thocht he wes wicht^ he wes nocht wyss
With sic jangleris to jummill9,
For fra his thowme thay dang a sklyss'°,
Quhill he cryd " Barla-fummyll " !
I am slane,"
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Quhen that he saw his blude so reid,
To fie micht no man lat'^ him;
He wend '3 it bene for auld done feid'4,
The far sarar it set's him.
He gart his feit defend his heid,
He thocht ane cryd haif at him,
Quhill he wes past out of all pleid'^
He suld bene swift that gat him
Throw speid,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
The toun sowtar'7 in greif wes bowdin'^,
His wyfe hang in his waist;
His body wes with blud all browdin'9,
He granit lyk ony gaist.
Hir glitterand hair that wes full goldin
So hard in lufe him lest^°
That for hir saik he wes nocht yoldin,
Sevin myll quhill he wes chest ^',
And mair,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
' Tall.
2 a hazel twig.
3 separate.
4 rumble.
5 mowed.
6 mice.
^ inactive fellow.
** stout.
9 With such
wranglers to
jumble.
'° struck a slice.
" "A truce."
'= prevent.
'3 deemed.
'4 feud.
'5 distressed.
'6 debate, broil.
'7 shoemaker.
■8 swollen with
rage.
'9 clotted, lit.
broidered.
=0 delayed.
" till he was
chased.
174
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
' jest.
= knocked he their
crowns.
3 The whole
ambush.
4 fought, rattled
upon.
5 ox-collars of
bent willow.
^ hams.
7 crofters, country
men.
8 in warlike array.
9 their mouths
were unclad,
i.e. unguarded.
'0 gums.
" barked,
clotted.
'2 worried.
'3 youngsters
(perhaps Dutch
jonker) engaged.
•4 lightning.
IS stout fellows.
i6 carls, men.
'7 did each other
quell.
'8 belched.
The miliar wes of manly male;
To meit him wes na mowis';
Thair durst nocht ten cum him to talc,
So nowit he thair nowis^.
The buschment haill^ about him brak
And bikkerit't him with bowis5,
Sync tratourly behind his bak
Thay hewit him on the howiss^
Behind,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
Twa that wes heidmen of the heird
Ran vpoun vtheris lyk rammis ;
Than followit feymen^ rycht on affeird^,
Bet on with barrow trammis.
Bot quhair thair gobbis wes vngeird?
Thay gat vpoun the gammis'°,
Quhill bludy berkit" wes thair beird;
As thay had wirreit'^ lammis,
Maist lyk,
At Chryst kirk of the grene.
The wyvis kest vp ane hiddouss yell
Quhen all thir yunkeris yokkit'3;
Als ferss as ony fyr-flaught'4 fell
Freikis'5 to the feild thay flokkit :
Tha cairlis'^ with clubbis cowd vder quell '7,
Quhill blud at breistis out bokkit'^.
So rudly rang the commoun bell,
Quhill all the stepill rokkit
For reird,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
CHRYSTIS KIRK.
175
Quhen thay had berit' lyk baitit bulis,
And branewod brynt in bailis%
Thay wer als meik as ony mvlis
That mangit wer with mailis^.
For fantness tha forfochin fuUs^
Fell doun lyk flawchtir-failiss,
And frcschmen come in and held thair dulis^,
And dang 7 thame doun in dailis^
Be-dene9,
At Chryst kirk on the grene.
' bellowed.
= firewood burnt
in flames.
3 overpowered
were with
burdens.
4 these fatigued
fools.
5 turfs cut for
burning,
fi goals, stations.
7 struck.
** numbers.
9 forthwith.
Quhen all wes done, Dik with ane aix
Come furth to fell a fidder'°
Quod he, "Quhair ar yone hangit smaix"
Rycht now wald slane my bruder?"
His wyfe bade him ga hame gub-glaikis'^,
And sa did Meg his muder.
He turnd and gaif thaim bayth thair paikis'3,
For he durst ding nane vdir'4,
For feir.
At Chryst kirk of the grene that day.
'0 multitude, lit.
waggon-load.
" mean fellows,
sneaks.
12 folly-mouth.
'3 drubbing.
'4 strike no other.
THE GABERLUNZIEMAN.=^
' sly, artful.
2 frail.
3 beyond.
4 cheerfully.
The pauky' auld carle came ovir the lee,
Wi' mony good-e'ens and days to mee,
Saying, " Goodvvife, for zour courtesie,
Will ze lodge a silly ^ poor man?"
The night was cauld, the carle was wat,
And down azonts the ingle he sat;
My dochter's shoulders he gan to clap,
And cadgily4 ranted and sang.
5 become wearj'.
6 lively.
7 her old mother
know.
8 busy.
"O wow!" quo he, "were I as free
As first when I saw this countrie,
How blyth and merry wad I bee !
And I wad nevir think langs."
He grew canty ^ and she grew fain,
But little did her auld minny ken 7
What thir slee twa togither were sayn
When wooing they were sa thrang^.
*An ancient Scots name for a hawker, from gaber, a wallet,
and lunyie, the loin. Literally, "The man who carries a wallet
on the loin." Throughout this poem, it will be observed, the
consonant sound of "y " is represented by the letter "z." This
peculiarity is preserved to the present day in several Scottish
proper names, such as Dalziel, Zair, Culzean.
THE GABERLUNZIEMAN.
177
"And O!" quo he, "ann' ze were as black
As evir the crown o' your dadye's hat
'Tis I wad lay thee by my back,
And awa wi' me thou sould gang^!"
"And O!" quoth she, "ann I were as whyte
As evir the snaw lay on the dike
lid dead me braw3 and lady-like,
And awa wi' thee lid gang!"
■ if.
'go.
3 I'd clothe me
gay.
Between the twa was made a plot,
They raise a wee-* before the cock.
And wyliely they shot the lock,
And fast to the bents are they gane.
Up the morn the auld wife raise.
And at her leisure put on her claiths,
Syne to the servants' bed she gaes
To speir^ for the silly poor man.
4 a liltle.
5 open field.
' enquire.
She gaed^ to the bed whair the beggar lay; 7went.
The strae was cauld, he was away;
Scho clapt her hands, cry'd " Dulefu' day !
For some of our geir^ will be gane." « goods.
Some ran to coffer and some to kist^, 9 chest.
But nought was stown^° that could be mist. •» stolen.
She danced her lane", cry'd "Praise be blest ! "'^'°"=-
I have lodg'd a leaP^ poor man." •= loy.-ii, true.
" Since naithing's awa, as we can learn.
The kirn's to kirn '3, and milk to earn ; "^ chum.
Gae butt ^4 the house, lass, and waken my bairn, '^ Go to the outer
And bid her come quickly ben's."
N HI
ap.Titiiiciu.
'5 to the inner
apartment.
178
KING JAMES THE FIFTH.
> did say.
The servant gaed where the dochter lay-
The sheets was cauld, she was away ;
And fast to her goodwife can say',
" She's aff with the gaberlunzieman."
2 O haste, cause
to ride.
3 troublesome.
4 afoot.
5 mad, furious.
"O fy gar ride', and fy gar rin,
And haste ze, find these traiters agcn !
For shee's be burnt, and hee's be slein,
The wearifou3 gaberlunzieman!"
Some radc upo' horse, some ran a-fit^;
The wife was woods, and out o' her wit ;
She could na gang, nor yet could she sit
But ay did curse and did ban.
6 far hence,
out over.
7 went.
8 proving, tasting.
Mean-time far hind, out owrc^ the lee,
Fu' snug in a glen where nane could see.
The twa, with kindlie sport and glee.
Cut frae a new cheese a whang 7.
The prieving^ was gude, it pleas'd them baith ;
To lo'e her for ay he gae her his aith.
Quo she, " To leave thee I will be laith,
My winsome gaberlunzieman.
9 lU-favouredly.
'0 she'd never
trust.
" O kend my minny I were wi' zou,
Ill-fardly9 wald she crook her mou'.
Sic a poor man sheld nevir trow'°
Aftir the gaberlunzieman."
" My dear," quo he, " zee're zet owre zonge,
And hae na learnt the beggar's tonge,
To follow me frae toun to toun,
And carrie the gaberlunzie on :
THE GABERLUNZIEMAN.
179
" Wi' kauk and keel ' I'll win zour bread, ' chaik and
ruddle (for
And spindles and whorles^ for them wha need — marking
sheep).
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed,
The gaberlunzie to carrie O !
I'll i)ow3 my leg and crook my knee,
And draw a black clouf* owre my e'e ;
A criplc or blind they will cau me.
While we sail sing and be merry O !"
2 small perforated
stones used in
spinning.
3 bend.
4 cloth, ra2.
THE JOLLY BEGGAR.
' set forth. There was a jolly beggar, and a-begging he was boun ',
^ ""s'JellHng™" ^"d he took up his quarters in-to a land'art town%
And we'll gang nae mair a roving
Sae late in-to the night ;
And we'll gang nae mair a roving, boys,
Let the moon shine ne'er so bright.
He wad neither ly in barn, nor yet wad he in byre;
3 behind. But in ahint^ the ha' door, or else afore the fire.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
The beggar's bed was made at e'en wi' good clean
straw and hay.
And in ahint the ha' door, and there the beggar lay.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
Up raise the goodman's dochter and for to bar
the door.
And there she saw the beggar standin' i' the floor.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
He took the lassie in his arms, and to the bed he ran,
4 cautiously. O hooly*, hooly wi' me, sir, ye'll waken our goodman.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
KING JAMES THE FIFTH. i8l
The beggar was a cunnin' loon, and ne'er a word
he spake
Until he got his turn done, syne he began to crack', 'talk.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
" Is there ony dogs into this toun ? maiden, tell
me true."
" And what wad ye do wi' them, my hinny and
mv dow-?" 2 my honey and
' my dove.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
" They'll rive a' my meal pocks, and do me meikle
wrang." *
"O dool3 for the doing o't! are ye the poor man?"^^°"°'''-
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
Then she took up the meal pocks, and flang them
o'er the wa' ;
"The deil gae wi' the meal pocks, my maidenhead,
and a' !"
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
" I took ye for some gentleman, at least the laird
of Brodie ;
O dool for the doing o't! are ye the poor bodie?"
And we'll gang nae mair, «S>:c.
*" They'll tear all my meal bags, and do me great harm."
In rural districts of Scotland as late as a century ago beggars
carried under each arm a wallet in which they collected the doles
of the farmers' wives. The expected gratuity, which was rarely
withheld, was a " gowpen," or double handful of oatmeal.
1 82 THE JOLLY BEGGAR.
He took the lassie in his arms, and gae her kisses
three,
' tortr.3Td?stg. And four and twenty hunder merk' to pay the
2 wet-nurse wage. nurice-feC^.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
He took a horn frae his side, and blew baith loud
and shrill,
And four and twenty belted knights came skipping
o'er the hill.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
And he took out his little knife, loot a' his
3 rags- duddies3 fa' ;
And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang
them a'.
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
The beggar was a cliver loon, and he lap shoulder
height :
4 such. " O, ay for sicken-* quarters as I gat yesternight!"
And we'll gang nae mair, &c.
SIR RICHARD MAITLAND.
SIR RICHARD MAITLAND.
Many of the finest flowers of Scottish poetry previous
to the middle of the sixteenth century owe their pre-
servation to the taste and patience of two curiously
contrasted collectors. One of the quaintest stories
of Scottish literature is that narrating how, during
time of pestilence in 1568, George Bannatyne, a
young man of twenty-three, occupied the leisure of
his enforced retirement with transcribing, page after
page, the best works of the national makars. Little
further is known of the transcriber except that he
became a burgess of some substance in Edinburgh;
but the work of those three months, a neatly written
folio of eight hundred pages, now in the Advocates'
Library in Edinburgh, has made his name immortal.*
The companion picture belongs to a slightly later
date. It is that of Sir Richard Maitland, the blind
*The Bannatyne MS. furnished the greater part of the contents
of that effective but unreliable publication, Ramsay's Everi^reen,
in 1724, and a further selection from its pages, under the title of
Ancient Scottish Poems, was printed by Lord Ilailes in 1770.
In 1829 the Bannatyne Club published the Memorials of George
Bannatyne, by Sir Walter Scott, containing all the ascertained
facts of the collector's life ; and this and the complete contents of
the famous MS. were finally printed together by the Hunterian
Club, 1878- 1 886.
1 86 S/A RICHARD MAITLAND.
old judge of the Court of Session, in the last year
of his life, directing the transcription by his daughter
Mary of the collection which was to hand his name
to posterity.
No necessity exists for comparing the merits of
the two manuscripts which have been the means of
preserving so much of the legacy of northern genius.
To a large extent they deal with different work; in
each case the task of transcription and preservation
has been performed with the utmost patience and
care; and in each the good taste and good faith of
the collector has established his transcript as a classic
authority. But while gratitude is due to Bannatyne
for his services as preserver of many priceless poems,
as an original poet, upon the strength of the few
compositions of his own which he included in his
manuscript, he remains of but small account. In
this respect his contemporary, on the other hand,
has a definite claim to regard. Sir Richard Maitland
was not only a diligent and careful collector of the
works of others; he was himself also a makar of
respectable merit, and several, at least, of the original
compositions which he added to his collection are
entitled to a place on the page of Scottish poesy.
The son of William Maitland of Lethington in
Haddingtonshire, who fell at Flodden, and of Martha,
daughter of George, second Lord Seton, the poet was
the representative of an ancient family. The well-
known ballad of "Auld Maitland" celebrates a gallant
defence of the castle of Lauder or Thirlstane against
the English by an ancestor of Sir Richard about the
S/A' RICHARD MAITLAND. 187
year 1250.* Again and again during the succeeding
centuries the family name appears in history;! in due
course Thirlstane was inherited by the poet from his
grandfather; and from that time, till the climax of
the family fortunes in the person of the poet's great-
grandson, the Duke of Lauderdale, in Charles II.'s
time, the house may be said to have been con-
tinuously in a foremost place. Born in 1496, and
studying law, it is said, first at St. Andrews, and
afterwards, upon his father's death, in France,
Maitland appears presently to have entered the
service of James V. J Nothing certain, however,
is known of his early life except that, about the
year 1530, he married Mary, a daughter of Sir
Thomas Cranston of Corsby. By this lady he had
a family of at least three sons and four daughters,
of whom the former were destined to play some
of the most conspicuous parts in the history of
their time.
The poet himself appears throughout to have
cultivated a life of retirement and study. All the
references of contemporary writers, except one, men-
tion him with great respect, and his life would
appear to have been mostly that of the quiet country
*An entry in the Chartulary of Dryburgh bears that this
ancestor, also a Sir Richard Maitland, disponed certain of his
lands to that abbey in 1249.
t During the reign of Robert III. , in the year 1400, according
to Wyntoun, Sir Robert Maitland took the castle of Dunbar by
strategy from his mother's brother, the Earl of March.
:::The letter of James VI. dated 1st July, 1584, respecting
Maitland's retirement from the bench, states that the latter had
served the king's "grandsire, goodsire, goodame, mother, and
himself."
l88 SIR RICHARD MAITLAND.
gentleman. The single exception occurs in John
Knox's History, where he is accused of having taken
bribes to allow Cardinal Beaton to escape from Seton
House in 1543. Knox, however, was somewhat
ready to attribute such misdemeanours to persons
whom he thought inimical to the reformed faith,
and in the present case there exists no evidence
whatever to support the charge, except that Maitland
was a relative of Lord Seton, and may have been
visiting Seton House at the time of the occurrence.
There exists, on the other hand, direct evidence to
show that the Cardinal was set at liberty by order
of the Regent Arran.*
In 1552 Maitland was one of the commissioners
appointed to settle the differences with England on
the subject of the Debateable Land on the Borders,
and it is believed that the successful issue of this
undertaking was the occasion of his receiving the
honour of knighthood. At anyrate, two years later,
upon his appointment as an Extraordinary Lord of
Session he is called Sir Richard Maitland.
Again, in 1559, he was employed as one of the
commissioners to England in a conference upon
the state of the Borders ; Sir Ralph Sadler, one of the
delegates on the other side, mentioning him then as
"the olde Larde of Lethington, the wisest man of
them." The sudden termination of his stay in
England at this time, and the substitution of his
eldest son William in his place, has been attributed
to the rapid approach of the affliction which was to
Sadler's State Papers, vol. i., p. 70.
S/Ji RICHARD MAITLAND. 189
darken the remainder of his hfe. It is at least certain
that he had completely lost his sight before the arrival
of Queen Mary in Scotland in 1561, as in his poem of
welcome he mentions the piteous fact.
Under this terrible privation, which, with the cir-
cumstance of advancing years, most men would have
considered sufficient reason for retirement from active
life, Maitland seems in no way to have let his heart
sink or his energies abate, and nowhere in his work
does there appear a peevish or despondent note on
the subject. The affliction which added his name to
the honourable roll of blind Homers did not prevent
his continuing to fulfil the duties of his position \ and
he remains one of those examples, in which the history
of the blind is peculiarly rich, of men who have en-
countered extraordinary difficulties only to surmount
them. In November, 1561, he was admitted an
Ordinary Lord of Session under the title of Lethington,
his son being permitted the privilege, by a special
regulation, of accompanying him within the bar. In
1562 Queen Mary appointed him Keeper of the Privy
Seal for life ; and in the following year he and his
second son, John, were "conjunctlie and severally
made Factouris, Yconomuss, and Chalmirlans of hir
hienes Abbacie of Haddingtoun." The former office
he resigned in 1567 in favour of this son, who by that
time had obtained the Priory nf Coldingham in com-
mendani ; but for seventeen years longer he retained
his seat on the bench, where he appears to have
performed his duties to the last without fear and
without reproach.
I90 S//^ RICHARD MAITLAND.
The troubles which assailed Maitland's later years
came, not from his own acts, but mostly from the
restless and ambitious character of his eldest son, the
too famous Secretary Maitland of Mary's reign and
the succeeding regencies. The constantly changing
part played by this politician in the highest events of
his time has been recorded in literature by Buchanan's
biting satire, The Camccleon, written in 157 1. Made
Secretary of State by that Catholic of Catholics, James
the Fifth's widow, Mary of Guise, he nevertheless
presently became one of the Protestant " Lords of
Congregation"; and after taking part in the negotia-
tions with Elizabeth as to the terms upon which she
would aid the Reformers, he again, with characteristic
paradox, turned round in the General Assembly of
1564 to accuse Knox of teaching sedition. Made a
Lord of Session by Mary Stuart, he was, notwithstand-
ing, implicated in the murders both of Rizzio and of
Darnley ; and after signing the document accusing the
queen of the latter crime, and after fighting against
her at Langside, he strangely enough saw fit to take
her part to some extent in the conference at York,
and presently united with Kirkaldy of Grange in
holding Edinburgh Castle in her interest against the
Regents. Finally, upon the surrender of that strong-
hold in May, 1573, he was taken prisoner, with his
brother John and other refugees of the Queen's party,
and being conveyed to Leith, died there, not without
suspicion of having poisoned himself.
This erratic policy of the son naturally brought
trouble upon his father. The hardest blow which the
5/A' RICHARD MAITLAND. 191
latter received was from an act of parliament obtained
by the Regent Morton as head of the king's party in
157 1. This act declared the secretary and his two
brothers rebels, and forfeited their lands and property.
Upon the strength of it the house and estate of
Lethington, then occupied by the Secretary, were
seized, spoiled, and withheld from the poet for a
number of years, and his second son was left at
liberty only under heavy penalties. These proceed-
ings seem to have roused the old knight to all the
indignation of which he was capable. He made
earnest appeals to law and to the interest of Queen
Elizabeth with the Regent. Nevertheless justice was
not accorded him until the year 1581. Upon the down-
fall of Morton in that year his house and lands were
restored to him, and under the patronage of James VI.
his son John was appointed an Ordinary Lord of
Session. He himself further, in 1584, was allowed the
unique privilege of resigning the duties of the Bench
in favour of a nominee, retaining at the same time the
emoluments of the office; and presently, under the
government of the young king, he obtained an act of
parliament indemnifying all his losses.
This satisfaction did not, indeed, arrive too soon,
for his death occurred on 20th March, 1586, when he
was in his ninetieth year. His wife, the partner of his
joys and sorrows for sixty years, is said to have died
on his funeral day.
Maitland's life, apart from its literary interest, pos-
sesses value for the example which it affords of private
family history of the time. He was founder of the
192 S/A' RICHARD MAITLAND.
first of those great Scottish houses, the Maitlands,
Dalrymples, and Dundases, which have risen one after
another to the highest rank and influence by the
profession of the law. His two sons and his grandson
in succession occupied seats upon the bench, and in
1624 the last-named was raised to the peerage by the
title of Earl of Lauderdale. John, the son of this
earl, and great-grandson of the poet, was from 1663
virtually ruler of Scotland, and in 1672 was created
Duke of Lauderdale by Charles IL Maitland's third
son, Thomas, was the author of several Latin poems,*
but is best remembered as one of the interlocutors in
Buchanan's famous treatise De Jure J^cgni apud Scoios.
The manuscript collection of ancient Scottish poems
which forms Maitland's best-known claim to regard,
and upon which he is understood to have been en-
gaged from 1555 onwards, is contained in two volumes,
a folio and a quarto. Of the folio, believed to have
been written by Sir Richard himself, "a very few parts,"
says Pinkerton, "are in a small hand; the remainder
is in a strong Roman hand." The quarto consists
chiefly of transcripts of Sir Richard's own original
pieces from the folio, and is in the handwriting of
Miss Mary Maitland, third daughter of the collector,
the first page bearing her name and the date 1585.
It appears therefore to have been transcribed in the
last year of Maidand's life. After descending in the
family for three generations, these manuscripts were
bought, at the sale of the Duke of Lauderdale's
* Printed in the appendix to the Maitland Club volume of
Sir Richard's works.
S/J^ RICHARD MAITLAND. 193
library, by Samuel Pepys, Secretary of the Admiralty to
Charles II. and James II., and he in 1703 bequeathed
them to Magdalen College, Cambridge. The value of
the collection was first discovered by Bishop Percy,
who printed a specimen in his Reliques; one also
appeared in Allan Ramsay's Evergreen; and a selec-
tion, including twenty-six of Sir Richard Maitland's
original compositions, was published by Pinkerton
in 1786 under the title of Ancient Scottish Poems.
Another quarto MS., bearing the title The Selected
Poemes of Sir Richard Metellan of Lydington, was
presented to the library of Edinburgh University by
Drummond of Hawthornden ; and from this, with the
addition of the single composition which it omits,
the Maitland Club printed Sir Richard's poems com-
plete in 1830.
Besides his original poems and his poetical collec-
tions, Maitland is known to have written a History of
t/ie House of Seytojin and a volume of Decisions
collected by him from 1550 till 1565. The former
was printed by the Maitland Club in 1829, and the
MSS. of both are preserved in the Advocates' Library,
Edinburgh.
As an original poet Sir Richard Maitland cannot be
placed in the foremost rank. He is understood to
have produced none of his existing verse until after
the age of sixty-one, and naturally his compositions
possess little of the fire, brilliancy, and warmth of
youthful work. For this lack, however, they atone to
some extent by other qualities. Full of sage obser- (
vation and shrewd worldly wisdom, they throw a light,
o "I
194 S/A' RICHARD MA/TLAND.
in nearly every line, upon the life and manners of thai
day. Mourning the rampant oppression and strife of
the nobles, and the sorrows and follies of the nation,
his verse breathes the inner sadness of Queen Mary's
time. It was his fate to live through the intestine
dissensions of three successive minorities, as well as
through the great struggle of the Reformation in
Scotland, and it is no marvel therefore that he again
and again repeats the prayer, " God give the lordis
grace till aggrie !" Much of his work is of a religious
cast, and exhibits him in a grave and venerable light.
This, however, is not his happiest strain, and his longest
composition, "Ane Ballat of the Creation of the
Warld," is little more than a bald paraphrase of the ^
Bible narrative in Genesis. It is in his satiric and
moral pieces that Maitland appears at his best. These,
as in the case of Lyndsay, deal with a wide range of
subjects, from the vanities of ladies' dress to the
venality of courtiers and the corruptions of church
and state. Much of his satire, it is true, owes it chief
interest to connection with events of his own age ; but
elsewhere he proves himself a not unworthy inheritor of
the mantle of the Lyon King, his best pieces containing
touches closely applicable to the human nature of all
time.
SATIRE ON THE AGE.
UHAIR is the blythness that hes^ein
Bayth in brugh and landwart sein'
Amang lordis, and ladeis schein^,
Dansing, singing, game, and play?
Bot Weill I wat nocht quhat thay mein ;
All merriness is wome away.
Seen both in
town and
country.
fair.
For now I heir na worde of Yule
In kirk, on cassay3, nor in skuill :
Lordis lettis thair kitchingis cule,
And drawis thame to the Abbay,*
And skant hes ane to keip thair mule;
All houshalding is worne away.
3 causeway.
I saw no gysarisf all this yeir,
Bot kirkmen cled lyk men of weir,|
That never cummis in the queir-'; 4 choir.
* The hospitality of the religious houses was from time to time
greatly abused by the nobles. Upon one occasion an Earl of
Douglas compelled the Abbot of Aberbrothock to entertain him
and a thousand of his followers for a considerable time.
t The performance of these mediaeval masquerades, containing
traces of the ancient miracle-plays and allusions to the exploits
of the Knights Templar, is still a favourite pastime in rural
districts on Hallowe'en.
t Churchmen made no scruple of appearing armed, like lay
barons, on the battlefield. Thus two bishops and two abbots fell
among the Scottish nobles at Flodden.
196
S/K RICHARD MAITLAND.
« learn.
Lyk ruffianis is thair array ;
To tcitchc and preitche that will not Icir';
The kirk gudis thai waste away.
» formerly.
Kirkmcn afToir' wcr gud of lyfe,
Prcitchit, tcichit, and staunchit strj-fc;
Thay feirit nather sword nor knyf,
• For luif of God the faith to say ;
All honorit thame, baith man and wyf,
Devotion wcs nocht away.
3 love.
Our fatheris wysc were, and discreit ;
Thai had bayth honour, men, and meit ;
With luif3 thai did thair tcnnentis treit,
And had ancuch in press to lay ;
Thay wantit nather malt nor quheit,
And mirrines wes nocht away.
4 Easter.
5 caii'^e.
fi plenty.
7 known.
8 ancestors.
And we hald nather Yule nor Pace^,
Bot seik our meit from place to place ;
And we halve nather luk nor grace.
We gars our landis dowbill pay;
Our tennentis cry Alace ! Alace !
That routh*^ and pittie is away.
Now wc halve mair, it is weill kend^.
Nor our forbearis^ had to spend;
Bot far les at the yeirls end ;
And never hes ane mlrrle day :
God will na r>xhes to us send
Sua lang as honour is away.
SATIRE ON THE AGE.
197
• truss, caparison.
Fr. trousse.
We waist far mair now, lyk vaine fuillis,
We and our paige, to turs' our muillis,
Nor thai did than, that haid grit Yuillis,
Ot meit and drink said never nay;
Thay had lang furmes^' quhair we haive stuillis 'io"gfo'-ms
J settles.
And mirrines wes nocht away.
Of our wanthrift sum wyttis playes3,
And sum thair wantoune vaine arrayis;
Sum the wyt on thair wyfes layes
That in the court wald gang* sa gay
And care nocht quha the merchand payis,
Quhills part of land be put away.
3 For our prodi-
gality some
blame plays.
••go.
S Till.
The kirkmen keipis na professioune ;
The temporall men commitis oppressioune,
Puttand the puire from thair possessioune ;
Na kynd of feir of God haive thay :
Thay cummar^ baith the kirk and sessioune,
And chasis charitie away.
Quhen ane of thaime susteinis wrang
We cry for justice, heid and hang;
Bot when our neichbouris we our-gang?
We laubour justice to delay :
Affectioune blindis us sa lang,
AH equitie is put away.
To mak actis we haive sum feill^;
God watt gif that we keip tham weill !
We cum to bar wn'th jak of steill*
* This was a common abuse of the time. The Earl of Bot
well, when called to answer for the murder of Darnley, appeare
in Edinburgh with a following of five thousand men.
^ cumber.
7 trespass upon.
S knowledge.
' ovcrliear and
intimidate the
judge.
' approval.
3 slighted because
of abuse.
198 S/A' RICHARD MA I TLA ND.
As we wald host the judge and fray'.
Of sic justice I have na skcill^,
Quhair rcull and ordour is away.
Our lawis ar lichtlcit for abusiounc^;
Sumtyme is clokit with collusioune ;
Quhilk causis of bluid the great efTusioune,
For na man spairis now to slay.
Quhat bringis cuntreis to confusioune,
Bot quhair that justice is away ?
4 blame.
Quha is the wyte^, quha can schew us?
Quha bot our nobilhs, that sould know us,
And till honorabill deidis draw us !
Let never comouneweill decay,
Or els sum mischief will bcf^iw us,
And nobillncs we put away.
Put our awin lawis to executiounc ;
Upon transgressouris mak punitioune ;
To crucll folk seik na remissioune ;
For peace and justice let us pray,
In dreid sum strange new institutioune
Cum, and our custome put away.
Amend your lyfis, ane and all.
And be war of ane suddan fall,
And pray to God, that maid us all,
To send us joy that lesteis ay ;
And let us nocht to sin be thrall,
Bot put all vyce and wrang away.
SATIRE ON THE TOUN LADYES.
Sum wyfis of the burrovvs-toun
Sa wondir' vane ar, and wantoun,
In warld thay watt^ not quhat to weir.
On clay this thay wair3 mony a croun ;
And all for newfangilnes'' of geir.
Thair bodyes bravelie thay atyir,
Of carnall lust to eiks the fyir;
I fairlie^ quhy thai have na feir
To gar men deime quhat thay desyre;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
Thair gouns ar coistlie, and trimlie traillis,
Barrit with velvous, sleif, nek, and taillis;
And thair foirskirt of silkis seir?
Of fynest camroche thair fuksaillis;*
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
And of fyne silk thair furrit cloikis,
With hingand^ sleivis, lyk geill poikis^;
Na preiching will gar thame forbeir
To weir all thing that sinne provoikis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
* "Of hnest cambric their foc'sles," an allusion to the actual
turret which formed the forecastle of ancient ships of war, to
which the high breast-trimming of ladies' dresses probably pre-
sented some likeness.
' wondrous.
= know.
3 spend.
4 novelty.
5 to add to.
6 marvel.
7 many.
8 hanging.
9 jelly bags.
20O
S/A' RICHARD MAITLAND.
« Their iinder-
petticoatsmust.
- Broidered.
3 sewed with
stripes of lace
or silk.
4 intiuire.
Thair wylecots man' weill be hewit,
Broudirit^ richt braid, with pasmentis sewit3;
I trow, quha wald the matter speir%
That thair gudmen had caus to rew it
That evir thair wyfis weir sic geir.
S Barred above
with drawn
head-pieces.
O. Fr. teste,
tele.
Thair wovin hois of silk ar schawin,
Barrit abone with tasteis drawinS;
With gartens of ane new mancir,
To gar thair courtlines be knawin;
And all for ncwfangilnes of gcir.
Sumtyme thay will beir up thair gown
To schaw thair wylecot hingeand down,
And sumtyme bayth thay will upbeir
To schaw thair hois of blak or broun;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
6 necklaces and
throat beads.
7 set high.
8 young person.
Perhaps Dutch
jonkcr.
Thair collars, carcats, and hals beidis^
With velvet hats heicht? on thair heidis,
Coirdit with gold lyik ane younkeir^
Brouderit about with goldin threidis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
9 sandals
anciently worn
by persons of
rank.
Thair schone of velvot, and thair muillis9;
In kirk ar not content of stuillis,
The sermon quhen thay sit to heir;
Bot caryis cuschingis lyik vaine fuillis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
SATIRE ON THE TO UN LA DYES.
I mein' of thame thair honour dreidis;
Quhy sould thay nocht have honest weidis,
To thair estait doand effeir^?
I mein of thame thair stait exceidis;
And all for nevvfangilnes of geir.
20 1
• lament.
* doing what is
becoming.
For sumtymes wyfis sa grave hes bein,
Lyik giglets cled wald nocht be sein.
Of burgess wyfis thoch I speak heir
Think weill^ of all wemen I mein,
On vaniteis that waistis geir.
3 Be assured.
Thay say wyfis ar so delicat
In feiding, feisting, and bankat,
Sum not content ar with sic cheir
As Weill may suffice thair estait,
For newfangilnes of cheir and geir.
And sum will spend mair, I heir say,
In spyce and droggis on ane day
Than wald thair mothers in ane yeir;
Quhilk will gar monye pak^ decay,
Quhen thay sa vainlie waist thair geir.
4 many a parcel,
fortune.
Thairfoir, young wyfis speciallie.
Of all sic faultis haid yow frie,
And moderatly to leif now leirs
In meit, and clayth^ accordinglie;
And nocht sa vainlie waist your geir.
5 learn.
6 clothe.
202
SIR RICHARD MAITLAND.
' to glide across
the street.
3 no mumming
cards (playing
cards with
figures) early
or late.
3 able.
Use not to skift athort the gait',
Nor na mum chairtis, air nor lait';
Be na dainser, nor this daingeir
Of yow be tane an ill consait
That yc ar habill^ to waist geir.
4 Frequent.
Hant'» ay in honest cumpanie,
And all suspicious places flic;
Lat never harlot cum yow ncir,
That wald yow Icid to leicherie,
In houp to get thairfoir sum geir.
My counsall I geve gencrallie
To all wemen, quhat-evir thay be,
5 to con by heart. This IcssoH for to quin pcr queirs,
Syne keip it weill continuallie
Better nor onye warldlie geir.
6 Leave off.
7 aspersion.
Leif^, burgess men, or all be loist,
On your \\7fis to mak sic cost,
Quhilk may gar all your bairnis bleir?:
Scho that may not want wyne and roist
Is abill for to waist sum geir.
s cambric
kerchiefs.
Betwene thame and nobillis of blude
Na difierence bot ane velvous huid !
Thair camroche curcheis^ ar als deir;
Thair uther claythis ar als guid;
And thai als costlie in uther geir.
SATIRE ON THE TO UN LA DYES.
Bot, wald grit ladyis tak gud heid
To thair honour, and find remeid,
Thai suld thole' na sic wyfis to weir,
Lyk lordis wyfis, ladyis weid,
As dames of honour in thair geir.
203
' suffer.
I speik for na despyt trewlie,
(My-self am nocht of faultis frie),
Bot that ye sould nocht perseveir
Into sic folische vanitie
For na newfangilnes of geir.
Of burgess wyfis thoch I speik plaine,
Sum landwart- ladyis ar als vain,
As be thair cleithing may appeir;
Werand3 gayer nor thame may gain —
On ouir-* vaine claythis waistand geir.
- country.
3 Wearing.
4 over.
NA KYNDNES AT COURT
WITHOUT SILLER.
attend to.
SuMTYME to court I did repair,
Thairin sum errandis for to dress',
Thinkand I had sum freindis thair
To help fordwart my buseness :
Bot, nocht the les,
I fand nathing bot doubilness ;
Auld kyndnes helpis nocht ane hair.
' inquire.
3 complain.
4 made him
angry.
To ane grit court-man I did speir^,
That I trowit my freind had bene
Becaus we war of kyn sa neir;
To him my mater I did mene^;
Bot, with disdene,
He fled as I had done him tenc*,
And wald nocht byd my taill to heir.
S deemed.
6 kinship.
7 made my vra.y.
^ went.
I wend 5 that he in word and deid
For me, his kynsman, sould have wrocht ;
Bot to my speiche he tuke na heid ;
Neirnes of blude he sett at nocht.
Than weill I thocht
Quhan I for sibnes^ to him socht^
It wes the wrang way that I geid^.
NA KYNDNES AT COURT. 205
^
My hand I put into my sleif,
And furthe of it ane purs I drew,
And said I brocht it him to geif^ 'g've.
Bayth gold and silver I him schew;
Than he did raw
That he unkindlie me misknew;
And hint^ the purs fest in his neif.3 Vi'^^' /'
Fra tyme he gat the purs in hand
He kyndlie ' Cousin ' callit me,
And baid me gar him understand
My buseness all haillalie.
And swair that he
My trew and faythfuU freind sould be
In courte as I pleis him command.
For quhilk, better it is, I trow;
Into the courte to get supple'*, ''^eip.
To have ane purs of fyne gold fow^, ^'"""•
Nor to the hiest of degre
Of kyn to be.
Sa alteris our nobilitie :
Grit kynrent^ helpis lytill now. 6 kindred.
Thairfoir, my freindis, gif ye will mak
All courte men youris as ye wald,
Gude gold and silver with you tak;
Than to get help ye may be bald;
For it is tauld
Kyndness of courte is coft and said 7; 7 bought and sold.
Neirnes of kyn na-thing thai rak^. ^--eck.
(
\
ON THE FOLYE
OF ANE AULD MANIS
MARYAND ANE YOUNG WOMAN.
' Of which if he
fail then.
'joy.
3 vexation.
4 above.
Amang all follcis ane great folye I find,
Quhen that ane man past fyftie yeir of aige
That in his vaine consait he growes sa blind
As for to join him-selffe in maryage
With ane young lass quhais bluid is yet in raigc,
Thinkand that he may serve hir appetyte;
Quhilk and he faill than' will scho him dispyte.
Still agcit men sould jois^ in morall taillis,
And nocht in taillis : for folye is to mary
Fra tyme that baith thair strenthe and nature faillis,
And tak ane wyf to bring him-selffe in tarye3;
For fresche Maii and cauld Januarij
Agreeis nocht upon ane sang in tune,
The tribbill wantis that sould be sang abunel
5 lover.
6 partly, /:'i.
greyish.
Men sould tak voyage at the larkis sang,
And nocht at evin quhen passit is the day.
Efter mid-age the luifars lyes full lang,
Quhen that his hair is turnit lyart*^ gray.
Ane auld beird till ane quhyte mouth to lay
In-to ane bed, it is ane piteous sycht :
The ane cryes help ! the uther hes no mycht.
FOLYE OF ANE AULD MAN.
207
Till haive bene merchand bygaine monie ane yeir
In Antwerp, Burges, and in town of Berrie,
Syne in-to Deip for to tyne' all his geir 'lose.
With vane conseat to puir^ himselffe, and herrie3.3haf°y7r"ln.
Grit perell is for to pas our the ferrie
In-to ane laikand boit* nocht naillit fast, 4 leaking boat.
To beir the saill nocht havand ane steife mast.
To tak ane melleins that grit lawbour requyris,
Syne wantis grayth^ for to manure the land ;
Quhair scid wantis then men of teiUing tyris ;
Than cumis ane, findis it waist lyand,
Yokis his pleuch, teilleis? at his awin hand.
Better had bene the first had never kend it^
Nor thoill5 that schame. And sa my tale is endit.
5 farm.
6 substance.
7 tills.
8 known it.
9 suffer.
AGANIS THE THEIVIS OF
LIDDISDAILL.
» boldly.
' rol).
Of Liddisdaill the commoun thcifis
Sa pertlic' steillis now and rciffis',
That nanc may kcip
Hors, nolt, nor scheip,
Nor yit dar sleip
For thair mischeifis.
3 great.
A path.
5 gate.
6 abides, with-
stands.
Thay plainHe throw the countrie rydis ;
I trow the meikill3 dcvill thanic gydis :
Quhair thay onsett
Ay in thair gait*
Thair is na yetts
Nor dure thame bydis'^.
7 They le.ive
quite nothing.
Thay leif richt nocht^; quhairever thay ga
Thair can na-thing be hid thame fra;
For, gif men wald
Thair housis hald,
Than waxe they bald
To burn and slay.
THE THE/VIS OF LWDISDAILL.
Thay theifis have neirhand herreit haill
Ettrick forest and Lauderdaill ;
Now ar they gane
In Lothiane,
And spairis nana
That thay will waill^.
209
■ almost wholly
harried.
^ choose.
Thai landis ar with stouth sa socht3
To extreme povertie ar brocht ;
Thai wicked schrowis^
Has laid 5 the plowis,
That nana or few is
That ara left ocht^
3 with theft so
wasted.
1 Those wicked
villains.
5 rendered in-
active.
' aught.
Bot commoun taking of blak-maill,*
Thay that had flesche and breid and aill
Now ar sa wraikit?,
Maid puir and naikit,
Fane to be staikit^
With watter-caill9.
7 wrecked.
8 accommodated.
9 broth made
without meat.
Thai theifis that steillis and tursis^° hame, '"carry off.
Ilk ane of thame hes ane to-name —
Will of the Lawis,
Hab of the Schawis.
To mak bair wawis" "walls.
Thay think na schame.
* Blackmail was the yearly sum paid by farmers on the High-
land and English borders to some powerful chieftain like Rob
Roy or Johnnie Armstrong, who in return undertook to make
good any losses by depredation.
p III
2IO
S/Ji RICHARD MAITLAND.
• despoil.
* stores.
3 reel and distaff.
Thay spuilye' puir men of thair pakis = ;
Thay leif thame nocht, on bed nor bakis ;
Bayth hen and cok,
With reill and rok^,
The Landis Jok
All with him takis.
4 Searches chest.
Thay leif not spendill, spoone, nor speit,
Bed, bovvster, blanket, sark, nor scheit ;
Johne of the Parke
Rypis kisf^ and ark;
For all sic wark
He is richt meit.
He is Weill kend, Johne of the Syde;
A gretar theif did never ryde :
He nevir tyris
For to brek byris;
Our muir and myris
5 Too good a
guide.
Our gude ane gyides.
Thair is ane, callit Clements Hob,
fi robs her web.
Fra ilk puir wyfe reiffis hir wob^,
7 rest.
And all the laif?.
Quhatever thay haif:
The deuil resave
8 stomach.
Thairfoir his gob^!
THE THE I VIS OF LIDDISDAILL.
To sic grit stouth quha-eir wald trow it
But gif sum greit man it allowit?
Rycht sair I rew,
Tliocht it be trew,
Thair is sa few
That dar avow it.
211
Of sum grit men they have sic gait'
That redy ar thame to debait^
And will up weir 3
Thair stolin geir,
That nane dar steir^
Thame, air nor lait.
' such access.
- to make conten-
tion for.
3 herd, protect.
4 stir.
Quhat causis theifis us our-gangs
Bot want of justice us amang?
Nane takis cair
Thocht all forfair^:
Na man will spair
Now to do wrang.
S oppress.
6 Though all
perish.
Of stouth thocht now thay cum gud speid
That nather of men nor God hes dreid,
Yit, or I die,
Sum sail thame sie
Hing on a trie
Quhill7 thay be deid. '™.
ADVYCE TO LESOM MIRRIXESS.
QuHEN I halve done considdcr
This warldis vanitie,
■ So brittle and §0 bfukill and sa sliddcr',
Sa full of niiserie;
Then I remember me
That heir thair is no rest;
Thairfoir appeirantlie
To be mirrie is best.
Let us be blyth and glaid,
My freindis all, I pray.
To be pensive and sad
Na-thing it help us may.
Thairfoir put quyt away
All heviness of thocht:
Thocht we mume nicht and day
It will availl us nocht.
It will not be our sorrow
That will stoip Godis hand,
To strik baith evin and morrow
Baith on the sie and land.
ADVYCE TO LESOM MIRRINESS. 213
Sen nane may it gainestand' 'withstand.
Let us be all content
To underly the wand
Of Godis punischment.
Quhat God pleasis to do
Accept it thankfullie;
Quhat paine he puttis us to
Receive it pacientlie.
And give^ that we wald be ^if.
Rcleveit of our paine,
For sin ask God mercie,
Offend Him nocht againe.
Give we will mak murning,
Sould be for our offence,
And not that God dois bring
On us for violence.
For ane dyveris pretence;
For some He will puneis
To proive thair patience,
And som for thair great miss 3. 3 fault.
Sen first the warld began
Thair hes bein trubill ay
For punischment of men,
And sail quhill domisday.
And sen we may not stay
Quhat God pleis do us till,
Quhat He will on us lay
Receive it with guid will.
214 S//^ RICHARD MA IT LAND.
For God will lay som scurge
Quhill that the warld tak end;
Fra sin the warld to purge
Will ay som plaigis send.
Bot quha will lyfe amend,
' ^iri^-e- And prcis' to sin no moir,
Then (lod will him defend
Fra everlasting cair.
Yet plainelie I concluide,
Into all wardlieness
Nathing for man sa guide
- '•'*f"'- As Icsome- mirrines;
For thair is na riches
Sa lang his lyfe can lenthe,
Conserve him fra seiknes,
And kcip him in his strenthe.
Thairfoir with trew intent
Let us at God ask grace
Our sines to repent
Quhill we haive tyme and space;
Syne bring us to that place
Quhair joy is evermoir,
And sie God face to face
In His etemall gloir.
ALEXANDER SCOT.
ALEXANDER SCOT.
Of several poets who owe the preservation of their
works and memory entirely to the writer of the
Bannatync Manuscript, the chief is Alexander Scot.
Pinkcrton termed him the Anacreon of old Scottish
poetry, and placed him at the head of the ancient
minor poets of his country — a judgment in which
succeeding critics have uniformly agreed.
As with many other of these ancient singers, almost
nothing is certainly known of the facts of Scot's life,
the little information we possess consisting almost
wholly of deduction from the poet's works themselves.
Dr. Laing was inclined to set his birth about the year
1520, and quoted a precept of legitimation from the
Privy Seal Register of 1549 as possibly concerning
him. This precept, if proved to refer to the poet,
would declare him a natural son of Alexander Scot,
prebendary of the Chapel Royal of Stirling. The
presumption, however, is somewhat slight. From the
refrain of "The Justing at the Drum" it has been
inferred that he resided in the neighbourhood of
Dalkeith, near Edinburgh. One of his pieces, in the
opinion of Lord Hailes, expresses the "Lament of
2i8 ALEXANDER SCOT.
the Maistcr of Erskyn," who was killed at Pinkie-
clcugh in 1547, and from this and other allusions it
is gathered that Scot began writing at least so early
as 1545, while, of course, none of his extant verse
can be of later date than 1568, the year in which
Bannatyne compiled his MS. The general strain of
the poems declares Scot to have been a layman ; from
the occurrence of several legal terms in his work it
has been suggested that he was a jurist ; and from
expressions such as that in " Ane New Veir Gift to
the Quene Mary," in which he prays God to give the
young ruler grace "to punisch papistis and reproche
oppressouris," it seems clear that he favoured the
principles of the Reforming party. On only one
point of his personal history, however, entire certainty
exists. The colophon of his poem " To luve vnluvit "
expressly states that the piece was written "quhen his
wyfe left him." From two of his compositions, "Luve
preysis," and "Vp, helsum hairt," it might be gathered
that his lady was of higher rank than himself, a fact
which, if true, might account for his wedded unhap-
piness. Perhaps he was one of those whose love, too
complete and obvious, fails to exact adequate retum.
This possibility, indeed, he seems to have discovered,
as in more than one of his later poems he sorrowfully
counsels something of reserve and self-restraint as the
best policy of the lover. His experience had also
the effect of opening his eyes to the shortcomings of
the other sex, and induced him to allude to these in
lines of biting satire. A passage in a poem of his
contemporary Montgomerie informs us that Scot lived
ALEXANDER SCOT. 219
to advanced years. In a sonnet to Robert Hudson,
written about the year 1584, the author of "The
Cherrie and the Slae" refers to "old Scot" as still alive.
With a few exceptions, the poems of Scot* are all of
the amatory kind, and, taken together, form a fairly
complete comment on the pains, the pleasures, and
the arts of love. His longest composition, the " New
Yeir Gift to Quene Mary " sheds much curious light
upon the social conditions of 1562; and in "The
Justing at the Drum," an imitation of "Chrystis Kirk
on the Grene," he has followed the initiative of
Dunbar and Lyndsay, and in a quaint strain of
humour has burlesqued the practice of the tourney.
Of the general tenor of his work the lines of Allan
Ramsay may be taken as a fair description.
Licht-skirtit lasses, and the girnand wyfe,
Fleming and Scot haif painted to the lyfe.
Scot, ssveit-tungd Scot, quha sings the Welcum hame
To Mar)', our maist bony Soverane Dame.
How lyflie he and amorous Stuart sing
Quhen lufe and bewtie bid them spred the wingit
Exhibiting mastery of a surprising variety of stanza
forms, his verse possesses an ease and finish unsur-
passed in his time. Here and there he flashes out
*As already stated, the preservation of all the extant composi-
tions attributed to Scot is owed to Bannatyne's MS. From this
several pieces were printed by Ramsay, Hailes, Pinkerton, and
Sibbald, in their several collections. The poems were first
gathered into one volume by Laing, who printed an octavo
edition of one hundred copies for private circulation at Edinburgh
in 1S21. Another edition, of seventy copies, by Alexander
Smith, was printed at Glasgow in 1882. And in 1887 a
nKxlernised version of considerable merit by William M'Kean,
"based mainly on Laing's collection," and not containmg all
the author's work, was printed at Paisley.
A Memorials of George Bannatyne, Edin. 1829, p. 47.
220 ALEXANDER SCOT.
in a terse aphoristic style, as when he gives his views
on womankind —
Thay wald be rewit, and hca no rcwth ;
Thay wald be mcnit, and no man mcnis ;
Thay wald be Irowit, and hcs no trcwth ;
Thay wiss thair will thai skant wcill wcnys.
Not less is he at home in paradox :
For nubillis hcs nocht ay renown,
Nor gcntillis ay the gayest goun ;
Thay cary victuallis to the toun
That werst dois dyne.
Sa bissely to busk I lx)un,
Ane-vthir citis the lx;rry doun
That suld be myne.
And for expression of downright democratic senti-
ment, the author of " A man's a man for a' that "
might have written the hnes —
For quhy? as brichl bene bimcist brass
As siluer wrocht at all dewiss.
And als gud drinking out of glass
As gold, thocht gold of grittar pryss.
But, apart from its poetic fascination, a pecuhar
interest attaches to the work of the man who struck
the first distinctly modern note in Scottish poetry.
Breaking away from the conventional forms of the
old makars, Alexander Scot wrote in a direct, natural
fashion, and but for their rich quaintness of expression
and their antique language, many of his pieces might
almost be the work of a poet of the nineteenth
century. The form of his work, its aptness to turn
upon some single thought or situation, and its general
tendency to direct expression of personal feeling and
experience, entitle him to be considered the earliest
of the more distinctly lyrical poets of Scotland.
THE JUSTING AND DEBAIT VP
AT THE DRUM BETUIX
WILLIAM ADAMSONE AND
JOHINE SYM.
|IIE grit debait and turnament
Off trewth no toung can tell,
Wcs for a lusty lady gent',
Betuix twa freikis^ fell.
For Mars the god armipotent
Wes nocht sa ferss him-sell,
Nor Hercules, that aikkis vprent,
And dang 3 the devill of hell,
With hornis;
Vp at the Drum* that day.
' a lady comely
and neat.
2 stout fellows.
3 beat.
Doutles wes nocht so duchty deidis
Amangis the dowsy peirisf.
Nor yit no clerk in story reidis
Off sa tryvmphand weirisS;
To se so stowtly on thair steidis
Tha stalwart knychtis steiris^,
Quhill bellyis bair for brodding? bleidis
With spurris als scherp as breiris^,
And kene,
Vp at the Drum that day.
*The Drum was a house belonging to Lord Somerville,
situated between Dalkeith and Edinburgh.
4 douze fairs, the
twelve peers of
Charlemagne.
5 wars.
6 stir, move.
7 pricking,
spurring.
8 briers.
222
ALEXANDER SCOT.
« hot.
a known.
3 was stronger of
body.
< promised.
5 If.
6 youngsters.
(Perhaps Dutch
jonker, young
nobleman.)
7 sprightly.
8 foam.
9 comets.
10 course.
" lost or won.
Vp at the Drum the day wes sett,
And fixit wes the feild
Ouhair baith thir noble chiftanis mett
Enarmit vndir scheild.
Thay wer sa haisty and sa hett'
That nane of thame wald yeild,
Bot to debait or be doun bett
And in the quarrell keild
Or slane,
Vp at the Drum that day.
Thair wes ane bettir and anc worss,
I wald that it wer wittin';
For William wichttar wes of corss3
Nor Sym, and bettir knittin.
Sym said he sett nocht by his forss,
Bot hecht-* he sowld be hittin,
And 5 he micht counter Will on horss ;
For Sym wes bettir sittin
Nor Will,
Vp at the Drum that day.
To se the stryfe come yunkeirs'^ stowt,
And mony galyart^ man;
All denteis deir wes thair but dowt.
The w7ne on broich^ it ran.
Trumpettis and schalmis9 with a schowt
Playid or the rink'° began.
And eikwall juges satt abowt
To se quha tynt or wan"
The feild,
Vp at the Drum that day.
THE JUSTING AND DEBAIT. 223
With twa blunt trincher speiris squair
It wes thair interpryiss,
To fecht with baith thair facis bair
For lufe, as is the gyiss'. 'fashion.
Ane freynd of thairis throw hap come thair,
And hard the rumor ryiss,
Quha stall away thair styngis^ baith clair, -p»kes.
And hid in secreit wayiss,
For skaith3, shun.
Vp at the Drum that day,
Strang men of armes and of micht
Wer sett thame for to sidder.
The harraldis cryd "God schaw the rycht!"
Syne bad thame go togidder.
"Quhair is my speir?" sayis Sym the knycht;
"Sum man go bring it bidder."
Bot wald thay tary thair all nycht,
Thair lanciss come to lidder'* 4 too sluggishly.
And slaw,
Vp at the Drum that day.
Syme flew als fery as a fownes; ^^'fe,^'^^^^
Doun fra the horss he slaid,
Sayis, "He sail rew my staff hes stowing (•^loXtr^.
For I sal be his deid?." '^^'■'^■
William his vow plicht to the powin^, '^peSck'^'
For favour or for feid9; ^f^"^.
"Als gude the tre had nevir growin,
Quhairof my speir wes maid,
To just!"
Vp at the Drum that day.
224
ALEXANDER SCOT.
■ sun and moon.
3 ranged.
3 breakfast.
O. Fr. dtsjune.
< ere noon.
5 prepared.
' pained,
punished.
7 0Ath5.
B by the tinve that.
9 An per- mad,
furious.
'0 from his com-
panion to fetch.
«• neither lad nor
knave.
«' a baked loach.
'3 fullness,
drunkenness.
Thir vowis maid to syn and mone',
Thay raikit^" baith to rest,
Thame to refress with thair disione?
And of thair armour kcst.
Nocht knawing of the dcid wcs done,
Quhcn thay suld haif fairin best.
The fyrc wes pischt out lang or nonc<
Thair dennaris suld haif drest
And dicht5,
Vp at the Drum that day.
Than wcr thay movit owt of mynd
Far mair than of beforne.
Thay wist nocht how to get him pynd*"
That thame had drevin to skornc.
Thair wes no deth mycht be dev7nd,
Bot ethis7 haif thay swome,
He suld deir by be^ thay had dynd,
And ban that he wes borne
Or bred ;
Vp at the Drum that day.
Than to Dalkeith thai maid thame boun,
Reidwod' of this reproche.
Thair wes baith \\7ne and vennisoun,
And barrellis ran on broche.
Thay band \-i) kyndness in that toun,
Nane fra his feir to foche'°;
For thair wes nowdir lad nor loun"
Micht eit ane baikin loche".
For fowncss'\
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
THE JUSTING AND DEB AIT
Syne eftir denner raiss the din,
And all the toun on steir'.
William wes wyiss, and held him in,
For he wes in a feir=.
Sym to haif bargan cowld nocht blin3,
But bukkit Will on weir*;
Sayis, "Gife thow wald this lady win,
Cum furth and brek a speir
With me!"
Vp at Dalkcyth that day.
This still for bargan Sym abyddis,
And schowttit Will to schame.
Will saw his fais on bath the syddis;
Full sair he dreds for blame.
Will schortly to his horss he slydis,
And sayis to Sym be name,
" Bettir we bath wer byand hyddis^
And weddir7 skynnis at hame,
Nor heir;"
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.
Now is the growme^ that wes so grym
Rycht glaid to leif in lie?.
" Fy, theif, for schame!" sayis littill Sym,
" Will thow nocht fecht with me ?
Thow art moir lerge of lyth'° and lym
Nor I am, be sic thre"."
And all the feild cryd fy on him,
Sa cowartly tuk the fle^^
For feir,
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.
Q III
225
' astir.
^ in company.
3 from having
combat could
not desist.
" incited Will to
war.
S dreaded.
fi buying hides.
7 wether.
8 the groom, the
gallant.
9 to live in peace.
'0 joint.
" by three such.
•■ flight.
226
ALEXANDER SCOT.
« jibe.
' over meek.
3 foiu together.
* dLitafT.
5 to m.ike your
rump sniolcc.
<> nothing nt nil.
7 laughod.
"take.
9 do it so reluc-
tantly,
•oroe.
" steep bank.
" declivity.
■3 limb.
«* rushed.
>5 feared.
Than every man gaif Will a mok',
And said he wcs our mcik'.
Sayis Sym, "Send for thy broder Jok ;
I sail nocht be to seik.
For wcr ye foursum^ in a flok,
I compt yow nocht a leik,
Thocht I had rycht nocht bot a rok«,
To gar your rumpill reiki
Behynd!"
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
Thair wes rycht nocht''' bot haif and ga ;
With lawchtcr lowd thay lewchc^
{^uhen thay saw Sym sic curage ta^
And Will mak it sa twchC.
Sym lap on horsbak lyk a ra'°,
And ran him till a huchc",
Sayis "William, cum r)-d doun this bra",
Thocht ye suld brek ane bwchc'^
Fo lufc!"
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
Sonc doun the bra Sym braid'* lyk thunder,
And i)ad Will fallow fast.
To grund for fersness he did funder
Be he midhill had past.
William saw Sym in sic a hlund.T,
To ga he wes agast ;
For he affeird's it wes na winder
His cursour suld him cast
And hurt him,
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
THE JUSTING AND DEBAIT.
227
Than all the yunkerris bad Will yeild
Or doun the glen to gang^
Sum cr)-d the koward suld be keild;
Sum doun the hewche he thrang^
Sum ruscht, sum rummyld^, sum reild'';
Sum be the bewches he hang.
Thair avairis^ fyld vp all the feild,
Thay wer so fow and pang 7
With drafes,
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
Than gelly^ Johine come in a jak'°
To feild quhair he wes feidit",
Abone" his brand ane bucklar hlak,
Baill fell the bern that bedit'3.
He slippit swiftly to the slak'-*,
And rudly doun he raid it.
Befoir his curpall's wes a crak
Culd na man tell quha maid it,
For lawchter,
Vp at Dalkeith that day.
Be than the bowgill gan to blaw;
For nycht had thame ourtane.
"Allaiss!" said Sym, "for fait of law,
That bargan get I nane."
Thuss hame with mony crak and flaw''^
Thay passid every ane;
Syne pairtit at the Potter raw.
And sindry gaitis'? ar gane.
To rest thame.
Within the toun that nicht.
'go.
2 thrust.
3 rumbled.
4 rolled.
5 limb, bough.
6 belongings.
7 full and
crammed.
8 malt liquor,
lit. grains.
9 worthy.
'o jacket of mail.
" held at feud.
»2 Above.
'3 Woe befell the
man that
awaited it.
'4 gap, opening
between hills.
»5 crupper.
'6 with many a
boast and fib.
'7 ways.
228 ALEXANDER SCOT.
L'Envoy.
This Will wcs he bcgyld the may,
And did hir marriage spill.
He promeist hir to lat him play,
Hir purposs to fulfill.
« From the time y^r^i gcho fell fow ^ hc flcd away,
when. ■' '
''^"" And come na mair hir till:
3 lost. Quhairfoir hc tynt^ the fcild that dny,
And tuk him to ane mill,
To hyd him,
*fMx\\. As coward fals of fey*.
HENCE, HAIRT.
lIiiNCL, hairt, with hir that most depairte,
And hald the with thy soucrane;
For I had lever want ane harte
Nor haif the hairt that dois me pane.
Thairfoir go, with thy lufe remane,
And lat me leif thus vnmolest ;
And so that thou cum nocht agane,
Bot byd with hir thow luvis best.
Sen scho that I haif scheruit lang' « served long.
Is to depairt so suddanly,
Address- the now, for thow sail gang 2 Prepare.
And beir thy lady cumpany.
Fra scho be gon, hairtles am I ;
For quhy? thow art with hir possestj
Thairfoir, my hairt, go hence in hy3, 3 haste.
And byd with hir thow luvis best.
Thocht this belappit^ body heir 4 beleaguered.
Be bound to scheruitude and thrall,
My fathfuU hairt is fre inteir.
And mynd to serf my lady at alls. 5 wholly.
230 ALEXANDER SCOT.
' perciuai, i.f. Walcl God that I wcr perigall ',
quite worlliy.
Vndcr that redolent ross to rest ;
Yit at the leist, my hairt, thow sail
Abyd with hir thow lufis Ixrst.
'garden. Scti ill youF garth'' the lilly quhyte
'r«'- May nocht remanc amang the laif^
4 whole. Adew the flour of hailP dclyte,
Adcw the succour that ma me saif!
skUs. Adcw the fragrant balm^ suaifJ,
And lamp of ladeis lustiest !
My fayihfull hairt scho sail it haif,
To byd with hir it luvis l)est.
Deploir, ye ladeis cleir of hew,
Hir abscence, sen scho most dcpairte ;
And spccialy ye luvaris trew
That woundit bene with luvis darte.
For sum of yow sail want ane parte
Als Weill as I ; thairfoir at last
Do go with myn, with mynd inwart,
And byd with hir thow luvis best.
OPPRESSIT HAIRT INDURE.
Oppressit hairt indure
In dolour and distress,
Wappit without recure'
In wo rcmidiless.
Sen scho is merciless,
And caussis all thy smert,
Quhilk suld thy dolour dress-,
Indure, oppressit hairt.
' Enwrapped
without re-
covery.
' aid.
Perforss talc paciens.
And dre3 thy destany
To lufe but recompens
Is grit perplexitie.
Of thyne aduersitie
Wyt^ thy-self and no mo.
For quhen that thow wes fre
Thow wald nocht hald the so.
3 endure.
4 blame.
Thow langit ay to prufe
The strenth of luvis lairs.
And quhat kin^ thing wes lufe,
Quhilk now settis? the so sair.
5 lore.
6 kind of.
7 besets.
232
ALEXANDER SCOT.
' lament.
a ThouRh thou
should&t pcruih.
Off all thy wo and cair
It mendis the nocht to mcnC
Howbcid thow suld forfair',
Thyself the causs hes bene.
3 choose.
4 worthier.
Quhen thow wes weill at eiss,
And subject to no wicht,
Thow hir for lufe did cheiss^
Quhilk settis thy lufe at licht ;
And thocht thow knew hir slicht*
Yit wald thow [nocht] rcfrane,
Thairfoir it is bot r)cht
That thow indure the pane.
5 unrest.
<« treated.
7 daily pained.
Bot yit my corpss, allace,
Is wrangusly opprcst
Be the in-to this cace,
And brocht to grit wanrest',
Quhy suld it so be drest^
Be the, and daly pynd^,
Quhilk still it ay detest?
Thy wantoun folich mynd.
^ glancing.
9 made thee stare
and idle.
'° slacken, abate
thy sighing.
" range.
" earth. (
•3 failedst thou
to grasp.
The blenkyne^ of ane e
Ay gart the goif and glaik^;
My body bad lat be,
And of thy siching slaik'°.
Thow wald nocht rest, bot raik",
And lair" the in the myre ;
Yit felyeit thow to faik'3
That thow did maist desyre.
OPPRESSIT HAIRT INDURE. 233
Thocht thow do murn and weip,
With inwart spreit opprest,
Quhen vthir men takis sleip
Thow wantis the nychtis rest.
Scho quhome thow luvis best
Off the takis littill thocht,
Thy wo and grit wanrest
And cair scho countis nocht.
Thairfoir go hens in haist,
My langour to lament,
Do nocht my body waist,
Quhilk nevir did consent.
And thocht thow wald repent
That thow hir hes persewit.
Yit man' thow stand content, 'must.
And drynk that thow hes brewit.
TO LUVE VNLUVIT.
' high.
To luvc vnluvit it is anc jxine ;
For scho that is my soucranc,
Sum wantouii mail so he' hes set hir
That I can get no lufe agane,
Bot brckis my hairt, and nocht the bcttir.
' MUcd.
Quhcn that I went with that sweit may
To dance, to sing, to sport and plcy,
And oft-tymes in my armis plot' hir,
I do now mvrne lx)th nycht and day,
And brckis my hart, and nocht the bcttir.
Quhair I wes wont to se hir go
Rycht trymly passand to and fro
With cumly smyhs quhcn I met hir ;
And now I leif in pane and wo,
And brckis my hart, and nocht the bcttir.
3 What a stupid
fool.
4 Since well I
know.
Quhattane ane glaikit fule^ am I,
To slay my-self with malancoly.
Sen Weill I ken< I may nocht get hir?
Or quhat suld be the caus, and quhy.
To brek my hart, and nocht the bettir?
TO LUVE VNLUVIT. 235
My hairt, sen thow may nocht hir pleiss,
Adew ! As gud lufe cumis as gaiss'. 'goes.
Go chuse ane-vdir and foryet hir.
God gif him dolour and diseiss^ » want of ease.
That brekis thair hairt, and nocht the bettir.
Quod Scott quhen his Wyfe left him.
LO, QUHAT IT IS TO LUFE.
Lo, quhat it is to lufc,
Lerne, ye that list to prufe,
Be me, I say, that no ways may
The grund of greif remvfe,
Bot still decay, both nycht and day ;
Lo, quhat it is to lufe.
Lufe is ane fervent fyre
Kendillit without desyre,
Schort plesour, lang displesour,
Repentence is the hyre.
'poor. Ane pure' tressour, without mesour,
Lufe is ane fen'ent fyre.
To lufc and to be wyiss,
"quarrel. To rege^ with gud ad wyiss.
Now thus, now than, so gois the game,
Incertane is the dyiss.
Thair is no man, I say, that can
Both lufe and to be wyiss.
Fie alwayis frome the snair ;
Lerne at me to be ware.
It is ane pane, and dowbill trane
Of endles wo and cair.
For to rcfrane that denger plane
Fie alwayis from the snair.
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.
Towards the close of the sixteenth century, while the
pages of English poetry were receiving their richest
contributions from the pens of Spenser, Shakespeare,
and their comrade Elizabethans, the most famous,
almost the sole singer left in the north was the author
of "The Cherrie and the Slae." Amid the moroseness
and ecclesiastic strife which shadowed those closing
years while James the Sixth still ruled at Holyrood,
this voice still sang sweetly of love and laughter, of
dewy nights and the lark's morning song.
Alexander Montgomerie was a younger son of
Montgomerie of Hazelhead, in Ayrshire, a scion of
the noble house of Eglinton. The date of his birth
remains uncertain, beyond that it was, as he himself
says, "on Eister day at morne;" but he is believed to
have first seen the light at Hazelhead Castle about
1545. According to references in his works, it
appears that he was educated somewhere in Argyle-
shire. In any case it is certain that he was a man of
culture and refined tastes. Of good social position,
related by intermarriage with the Mures of Rowallan
and the Semples of Castle Semple, he was the
240 ALEXANDER MONTGOMEKIE.
professed admirer of I^dy Margaret Montgomerie,
eldest daughter of Hugh, third Earl of Eglinton, to
whom he addressed several compositions in the
•' despairing lover " tone fashionable in his time.
He is recorded to have held some place at Court,
first under the Regent Morton, and aftenvards under
James VI., from which, and not from military or
naval rank, he ajipears to have derived the title of
Captain. For a time he stood high in favour with
the king, for whose Essayes of a Prentise in the
Divine Art of Poesie, he wrote a commendatory sonnet
by way of preface. James, moreover, in his Ravlis
and Cautelis of Poesie, quotes several of Montgomcrie's
verses as patterns, and is recorded to have been
greatly diverted by the recitation of the " Flyting
betwixt Montgomerie and Pol wart." I^ter, however,
the poet shared the fate of other courtiers, and for
some unknown reason fell into disgrace. Nor does
any authority exist for the supposition that he
regained the royal favour and accompanied the king
to England. More probability attends the belief that
he settled at Compton Castle, near Kirkcudbright, in
Galloway, close by which, at the junction of the Dee
and the Tarffe, tradition points out the scene of his
chief poem, "The Cherrie and the Slae."
In Montgomerie there appears a curious reflection,
though in fainter colours, of the fate and character of
Dunbar. Like the great makar of James the Fourth's
time, he was the scion of a noble house. In his verse
appear the same eager efforts to secure favour at
Court, the same bitterness at disappointment, and the
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE. 241
same succeeding rancour against rivals and enemies.
Here is the same oppression under insufficient means,
and the same eager and thirsty heart continually
mocked by "wicked weirds" and "thrauard fates."
Even his pension of 500 marks a year, chargeable on
certain rents of the archbishopric of Glasgow, was
withheld for a time, and only regained, by writ of
privy seal, in 15 88, after a vexatious law-suit. And on
undertaking a foreign tour, for which he received royal
leave of absence in 1586, he found himself for a time,
upon what charge is unknown, thrown into prison.
In one of his sonnets he records his sorrows —
If lose of guids, if gritest grudge or grief,
If povertie, imprisonment, or pane,
If for guid-will ingratitude agane,
If languishing in langour but relief,
If dct, if dolour, and to become deif.
If travell tint and labour lost in vane.
Do properly to poets appertane,
Of all that craft my chance is to be chief.
Like Dunbar, Montgomerie appears to have become
serious in his later years, " the productions of which,"
to quote his latest editor, "breathe a tender melan-
choly and unaffected piety, inspired with hopes of a
fairer future, in strange contrast to some of his earlier
work." To the spirit of these years must also be
attributed a metrical version of Psalms, fifteen in
number, apparently part of a complete metrical para-
phrase which he, in conjunction with some other
writers, offered to execute for the public free of charge.
It is gathered from the anonymous publication of this
collection of Psalms, entitled "The Mindes Melodie,"
R '"
242 ALEXANDER MONTCVMLKIE.
and from his scries of epitaphs, that the [xxit was still
alive in the year 1605 ; but he was dead Ixrforc 1615,
according to the title-juge of a new edition of
"The Cherric and the Slae," printed by Andre Hart
in that year.
According to his own poetic statement, he was
small of stature, fairly good-looking, and alTlicted with
the |>ainful disease of gravel.
Most of Montgomerie's [>ocms have liccn prcser>*ed
respectively in the Drummond, the Maiiland, and the
Uannatync MSS. After many scjvirate editions of the
chief pieces, the whole of the {X)cms were for the first
time collected into one volume (Kdinburgh, 1821) by
David I^ing, with a biographical notice by Dr. Irving,
the historian of Scottish iK)ctry. The only other
complete edition is thai by Dr. James Cranstoun
(Scottish Text Society, 1885 87). The latter, in the
present volume, is regarded as the standard text
** The Cherrie and the Slae," Montgomerie's chief
effort, has ever since its composition lieen one of
the most popular of Scottish poems, no fewer than
twenty-three editions of it ha\nng Ixrcn printed since
'597 '^\'\<i intention of the allegory, according to
Pinkcrton, was to show that moderate pleasures arc
l)etter than high ones. But Dempster, who translated
it into Latin, considered it to be, first, a love allegor)-,
picturing a young man's choice between a humble and
a high-bom mistress, and afterwards the |X)urtrayal of
a struggle between \-irtue and vice. Most readers
are likely to agree with Dr. Cranstoun in considering
Dempster's solution correct, lx.lieving with him that
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE. 243
"what the poet began as an amatory lay he ended
as a moral poem ; what he meant for a song turned
out a sermon." Thus, probably, it comes about that
the allegory is of small account, the chief value and
charm of the poem lying in its passages of description,
its freshness of imagery, and its mother-wit. The
oiHjning stanzas present by far the best part of the
comix>sition. The remainder possesses but secondary
interest, notwithstanding the many pithy sayings intro-
duced ; and no climax is reached even when the
cherry is aiLiined at the end of the piece.
Of the poet's other works the longest extant is
"The l-'lyting betwixt Montgomerie and Polwart,"
a tournament of Rabelaisian humour in the style
of the famous " Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedie."
Its chief interest, for poetic qualities it has none, is
as a specimen of a class of composition — the mock
duel of vituperation between good friends — which
was in those times considered an amusing literary
[performance. His sonnets, "characterised by great
poetic skill and singular felicity of diction," furnish
no mean contribution to the stores of a verse-form
then greatly cultivated, while his miscellaneous
poems, nearly all amatorj', exhibit mastery of a great
variety of measures. Sometimes, however, the tone
of these appears affected to a modern ear, and their
imagery apt to descend into conceits.
There remains, preserved by the Maitland MS.,
another poem, " The Bankis of Helicon," a love lyric
of great charm, which long enjoyed the reputation of
l>eing the earliest piece written in the stanza of " The
244 ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.
t
Cherric and the Slae." Idling thought it jjossiblc
that Montgomcrie might l)C the author of this, and
Dr. Cranstoun cstaljhshcs the opinion with a fair
amount of certainty, considering it one of the series of
compositions addressed by the poet to his kinswoman,
I^idy Margaret Montgomeric, and i>ointing out the
frequency with which sets of expressions and even
whole h'nes from the other pieces of the series arc
repeated in it. Even if ascertained iK-yond doubt,
however, the authorship of "The I^ankis of Hehcon "
would add nothing to Montgomerie's reputation,
which is likely to live and die with the reputation of
his greatest work, the lyrical allegor)' of " The Cherric
and the Slae."
Greater in manner than in matter, Montgomerie's
verse owes its charm to finish and grace rather than
to vigour and imagination, affording rather a late
reflection of the early glories of the centur)- than the
glow of a new inspiration ; nevertheless it has
remained constantly popular, a surprising number of
its lines having become household words in the shape
of proverbs; it claims the credit, along with Dunbar's
work, of furnishing models both to Allan Ramsay and
to Burns ; and, l)cyond all its Scottish contemporaries,
it possesses intrinsic qualities which assure it an
enduring fame.
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
r.OUT ane bank, quhair birdis on bewis'
Ten thusand tymis thair notis renewis
like- hourc into the day,
The merle and maueis3 micht be sene,
The progne and the phelomenC,
Quhilk caussit me to stay.
I lay and leynit me to ane bus
To heir the birdis beirS;
Thair mirth was sa melodius
Throw nature of the yeir:
Sum singing, sum springing
With wingis into the sky;
So trimlie and nimlie
Thir birdis they flew me by.
• boughs.
2 each.
3 thrush.
4 swallow and
nightingale.
5 sound.
I saw the hurcheon*^ and the hair,
Quha fed amangis the flowris fair,
WcT happing to and fro.
I saw the cunning ^ and the cat,
Quhais downis with the dew was wat.
With mony beisties mo.
6 hedgehog.
7 rabbit.
246
W LEXANDEK MONTGOMERJE.
' polecat.
' skipping.
3 kept their
luuiiti.
The hart, the hytid, the dac, the rac,
The fowmart', and the foxc
War skowping- all fra brae to brae,
Amang the water broxe;
Sum feidiiig, sum dreiding
In cais of suddain snairis ;
With skipping and tripping
Thay hantit^ all in pairis.
4 wild.
5 bough.
* cliff.
7 budding.
The air was sa attcmpcrate,
But ony myst immaculate,
Bot purefeit and clcir ;
The flowris fair wer flurischit,
As Nature had them nurischit
IJailh delicate and deir<;
And euer)' blomc on branche and liewch*
So prettily wer spred,
And hang their heidis out-ouir the hewch*^
In Mayis colour cled ;
Sum knopping', sum dropping
Of balmie liquor sweit,
Distelling and smelling
Throw Phrebus hailsum heit.
8 ringdove.
9 shrill.
The cukkow and the cuschet* crydc,
The turtle, on the vther syde,
Na plcsure had to play ;
So schil' in sorrow was her sang
That, throw hyr voice, the roches rang ;
For Eccho answerit ay,
THE CIIERRIE AND THE SLAE. 247
Lamenting sair Narcissus' cace,
Quha staruit ' at the well ; ' stared.
Quha with the schaddow of his face
For lufe did slay himsell.*
Quhylis weiping and creiping
About the well he baid ;
Quhylis lying, quhylis crying,
Bot it na answere maid.
The dew as diamondis did hing
Vpon the tender twistis^ and ying, 2 twigs.
Owir-twinkling all the treis ;
And ay quhair flowris flourischit faire
Thair suddainly I saw repaire
In swarmes the sounding beis.
Sum sweitly hes the hony socht,
QuhiU they war cloggit soir : ^xiii.
Sum willingly the waxe hes wrocht,
To help it vjD in stoir.
So helping with keiping,
Into thair hyuis they hyde it,
Precyselie and wyselie
For winter they prouyde it.
To pen the pleasures of that park,
How euery blossome, branche, and bark,
Agaynst the sun did schyne,
•Ovid, Metamorphoses, iii. 407, '"^nd on. The legend is
alluded lo by Shelley in "The Sensitive Plant, when he
describes the narcissus flowers,
•• Who gaze on thine eyes in the stream's recess
Till they die of their own dear loveliness.
248
A LEX A NDEK MONTGOMEKIE.
■ |Mx>l unilcr •
LatAracl.
' dcM:cn<ling.
I Icif to poctis to compylc
In staitlie verse and lofty style :
It passis my ingyne.
Bot as I mussit myne allanc,
I saw an river rin
Out-ouir anc craggic rok of stanc,
Sync lichtit in anc lin",
With tumljling and rumbling
Aniang the rochis round,
Dcwalling' and falling
Into that pit profound.
3 i.t. the throat
of Kcho, one
of the cavern
clvc».
^ are accustomed
to be.
To heir thae startling strcmis clcir
Me-thocht it musi(jue to the cir,
Quhat deskant did al)Ound
With trihlc sweit, an tenor iust,
And ay the echo repercust
Hir diapason sound,
Set with the Ci-sol-fa-uth clcife,*
Thairby to knaw the note ;
Thair soundit a michtie semibreif
Out of the elphis throte^.
Discreitlic, mair sweetlie
Nor craftie Amphion.
Or Musis that vsis^
At fountaine Helicon.
* The syllables, ut, re, mi, fa, so, la, .ore s-iid, says Dr.
Cranstoun, " to have l)ccn hrst used in the teaching of sinfjinjj
by Guido of Arezzo in the eleventh century. Lc Mairc, a
French musician of the seventeenth century, added si for the
seventh of the scale."
THE ClIERRIE AND THE SLAE.
Quha wald haue tyrit to heir that tune,
Quhilk birdis corroborate ay abune',
Throw schowting of the larkis?
Sum flics sa high into the skies,
Quhill Cupid walkinnes= with the cryis
Of Nature's chappell clarkis,
Quha, leving all the hevins aboue
Alighted in the eird^.
Lo, how that little God of Loue
Befoir me thair appcrid !
So niyld-lyke and chyld-lyke.
With bow thrie quarteris scant,
So moylie and coylie'»,
He lukit like ane sant.
249
' above.
2 Till Cupid
wakens.
3 earth.
4 mildly and
quietly.
Anc cleinlie crisps hang ouir his eyis
His quauer by his naked thyis
Hang in ane siluer lace.
Of gold, betwix his schoulders, grew
Twa pretty wingis quhairwith he flew;
On his left arme ane brace ^.
This god aff all his geir he schuik
And laid it on the grund.
I ran als busie for to luik
Quhair fcrleis^ micht be fund.
Amasit I gasit
To see that geir sa gay
Persawing my hawing^
He countit me his pray.
5 veil of cobweb
lawn.
' arm-covering.
7 marvels.
Perceiviiic; niy
behaviour.
250
jested.
> to hold sway.
3 wooed, made
sign for.
.4 1.EXANDER MONTGOMEKIE.
His youth and stature made mc stout;
Of douhlcness I had na doubt,
IJot bourded' with my boy.
Quod I, "How call they thee, my chyld?"
" Cupido, Sir," quod he, and smyld :
" Please you me to imploy ;
For I can serve you in your suite,
If you please to impyrc',
With wingis to flie, and schafts to schute,
Or flamis to set on fyre.
Mak choice then out of those then,
Or of a thousand things ;
Bot craue them, and haue them."
With that I wowed ^ his wings.
4 have it gladly.
"Quhat wald thou giue, my friend," quod lie,
"To haf thae prettie wingis to flie,
To sport thee for a quhyle?
Or quhat, gif I suld len thee heir
My bow and all my shuting geir,
Sum bodie to begyle?"
"That geir," quod I, "can not be bocht,
Yet I wald haif it faine*."
"Quhat gif," quod he, "it coist thee nocht
Bot randring it againe?"
His wingis than he bringis than,
And band them on my back :
"Go flie now," quod he now,
"And so my leif I tak."
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
251
I sprang vp on Cupidoes wingis,
Quha bow and quauir baith resingis'
To lend me for ane day.
As Icarus with borrowit flicht
I niountit hichar nor= I micht;
Ouir perrelous ane play.
Than furth I drew that deadlie dairt
Quhilk sumtyme schot his mother,
Quhair-with I hurt my wanton heart,
In hope to hurt ane-vther.
It hurt me, it burt3 me,
The ofter I it handill.
Cum se now, in me now,
The butter-flie and candill.
resigns.
2 higher than.
i burned.
As sclio delytis into the low*,
Sa was I browdin ins my bow,
Als ignorant as scho ;
And als scho flies quhill sche be fyrit,
Sa, with the dart that I desyrit.
My hand hes hurt me to.
As fulisch Phaeton, be sute^
His fatheris cart obteind,
I langt in Luiffis bow to shute,
Bot weist not what it meind.
Mair wilfuU than skilfull
To flie I was so fond,
Desyring, impyring.
And sa was sene vpond^.
4 flame.
5 foolishly fond of.
^ by suit.
7 upon It.
252
ALEXANDER MONTGOMEKIE.
• hews (a tree)
too higK.
» splinter.
3 bhut.
4 stolen.
To late I knaw, quha hewis to hie',
The spail- sail fall into his eie ;
To late I went to scuillis.
To late I heard the swallow prcichc,*
To late Experience dois teiche —
The skuill-maister of fuillis.
To late to fynde the nest I seik,
Quhcn all the hirdis arc flowin ;
To late the stabill dore I steik^,
Quhen all the steids are stowin*.
To lait ay their stait ay
All fulische folke espye ;
Behynd so, they fynd so
Remeid, and so do I.
5 is ignorant of,
refuses to
acknowledge.
6 From the time
when.
7 groaning.
Gif I had rypelie bene aduysit
I had not rashlie enterprysit
To soir with borrowit pennis,
Nor yit had saied the archer craft,
Nor schot myself with sik a schaft
As resoun quite miskenniss.
Fra^' wilfulnes gaue me my wound
I had na force to flie,
Then came I granand^ to the ground:
*' Freind, welcome hame!" quod he.
* An allusion to the fable of .Esop, versified by Henryson.
The swallow, seeing a farmer sowing flax, begged the other birds
to help her to pick up the seed, as the thread produced from it
should compose the fowler's snare. Being twice refused and
ridiculed, she resolved to quit the society of her thoughtless
fellows, and has ever since frequented the dwellings of men.
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
253
"Quhair flew ye, quhome slew ye,
Or quha bringis hame the buiting'?
I sie now," quod he now,
"Ye haif bene at the schuting."
■ booty.
As skorne cummis commonhe with skaith^
Sa I bchuifit to byde them baith :
quhat an stakkering stait3!
For vnder cure I gat sik chek''
Quhilk I micht nocht remuif nor neks,
Bot eyther stail or mait^.
My agonie was sa extreme
1 swelt and soundt^ for feir;
Bot, or I walkynnit of^ my dreme
He spulyied9 me of my geir.
With flicht than on hicht than
Sprang Cupid in the skyis,
Foryetting and setting
At nocht my cairfuU cryis.
■ hurt.
3 staggering
state.
4 under (beyond)
cure I got
such check.
5 prevent (re-
ceiving check).
6 either be stale
or checkmated.
7 fainted and
swooned.
8 ere I wakened
from.
9 spoiled.
Sa lang with sicht I followit him
Quhill baith my feibHt eyis grew dim
With staruing on the starnis ^°;
Quhilk flew sa thick befoir my ein,
Sum reid, sum yellow, blew, and grein,
Sa trublit all my harnis";
Quhill euery-thing apperit two
To my barbuilyiet'^ braine.
'0 staring at the
stars.
" brains.
" disordered.
254
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.
Hot lang michl I lye linking so
Or Cupid come againc ;
Quhais thundring, with wondring
I hard vp throw the air ;
Throw cluddis sb he ihuddis so
And flew I wist not quhair.
sighetl till.
' by such n boy.
3 shnlce fist nt
and curse.
* disorder, con-
sternation.
Fra that I saw that god was ganc,
And I in langour left allanc,
And sair tormcnlit, to,
Sum-tymc I sicht quhill' I was sad,
Sum-tymc I musit and maist gane mad,
I wist not quhat to do.
Sum-tyme I ravit, halfc in a rage,
As ane into dispaire ;
To be opprcst with sic anc page*
Lord ! gif my heart was saire !
Like Dido, Cupido
I widill and [I] waryc\
Quha reft me, and left me
In sik a feiric-faryc*.
5 strange.
* Unbumt and
unlwilcd.
7 By love's bel-
lows blown.
Then felt I Curage and Desyrc
Inflame my heart with vncouth? fyre,
To me befoir vnknawin ;
Bot now na blud in me remaines
Vnbrunt and boyld'' within my vaines,
By luffis bellies blawin'.
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
To quench it, or 1 was deuorit,
With sichcs I went about;
Bot ay the mair I schape to smor it'
The baulder it brak out:
Ay preising but ceising^
Quhill it may breik the boundis.
My hew so furth schew so
The dolour of my woundis.
255
' to smother it.
^ endeavouring
without ceasing.
With dcidhe visage, paill and wan,
Mair hke ane atomic^ nor man,
I widderit^ cleine away.
As wax befoir the fyre, I felt
My hart within my bosomc melt
And pece and pece decay.
My vaines with branglings like to brek
My punsis lap^ with pith —
Sa feruently did me infek
That I was vext thairwith.
My hart ay did start ay
The fyrie flamis to flie,
Ay houping, throu louping,
To win' to liberty.
3 skeleton.
4 withered.
5 throbbing.
6 My pulses
leaped.
7 get.
Bot O ! alace ! byde it behuissit^
Within my cairfull corpis incluissit9,
In presoun of my breist;
With sichis sa sowpit and ouirset'",
8 it behoved to
abide.
9 enclosed.
'o overcome and
upset.
256
.•/ LEXANDEK MONTGOMERIE.
■ In death-.-iKony
still liviiiK.
' thoufth.
1 deftlh.
4 kirninini; ami
lhrll^tilll;.
Like to an fischc fast in the net,
In dcid-thraw vndeccist',
Quha, ihochl' in vainc, dois striuc for strcnlh
For to pull out hir hcid,
Quhilk profuis nathing at the Icnth
Dot haistcs hir to hir dcid\
With wristing and thristing*
The faster still is scho ;
Thair I so did lye so,
My death advancing to.
S more troubled.
6|
7 anno>'arcc.
* opprcssctl.
9 drought.
«>dr]rKTa<sstalk.v
» No token.
" at once.
«J groans
The mair I wrestlit with the wynd
The faschtcr' still myself I fynd ;
Na mirth my mynd micht mease*.
Mair n()y^ nor I, had neuer nana,
I was sa alterit and ouirgane*
Throw drowth9 of my disease.
Than weakly, as I micht, I rayis;
My sicht grewe dim and dark ;
I stakkerit at the windilstrayis'",
Na takin" I was stark.
IJaiih sichiles and michtles,
I grew almaist at ainis**;
In angwische I langwische
With mony grievous grainis'\
With sol>cr pace I did approche
Hard to the riuer and the roche
Quhairof I spak befoir ;
Quhais running sic a murmure maid,
THE CHEKKIE AND THE SLAE.
That to the sey it softlie slaid;
The craig was high and schoir'.
Than plcasur did me so prouok
Perforce thair to repaire,
Bctuix the riuer and the rok,
Quhair Hope grew with Dispaire.
A trie than I sie than
Of Cherries in the braes.
Bclaw, to, I saw, to,
Anc buss of bitter Slaes^
257
' sheer.
^ A bush of sloes.
The Cherries hang abune my heid,
Like twinkland rubies round and reid,
So hich vp in the hewch3,
Quhais schaddowis in the riuer schew,
Als graithlie* glansing, as they grewe,
On trimbhng twistis tewchs,
Quhilk l)owed throu burding of thair birth^,
Inchning downe thair toppis,
Reflex of Phoebus of the firth 7
Newe colourit all thair knoppis^,
With dansing and glansing
In tirles dornik champ9,
Ay streimand and gleimand
Throw brichtnes of that lamp.
3 crag.
4 perfectly.
5 tough twigs.
* throuRh burden
of their produce.
7 sheltered place.
3 knobs.
9 In ripples like
diaper figuring.
With earnest eye quhil I cspye
The fruit betuixt me and the skye,
Halfe-gaite'°, almaist, to hevin,
The craig sa cumbersume to dim,
III
'o Half-way.
as8
ALEXANDER MONTGOMEKIE.
> without liriiii;.
The trie sa hich of growth, and trim
As ony arrowe cvin,
I cald to mind how Daphne did
Within the laurcll schriiik,
Quhcn from Apollo scho hir hid.*
A thousand times I think
That trie then to me then.
As he his laurell thocht ;
Aspyring hut tyring'
To get that fruit I sochl.
» u»e.
1 endeavour.
4 steep and
wearivjme.
% for up, tall, and
vlrndcr.
( to emy it.
7 At timM try-
ing, at times
stopping.
To clime the craigc it was na buil"
I^t l)C to prcssc' to pull the fruit
In top of all the trie.
I saw na way cjuhairhy to cum
Be ony craft to get it clum,
Appcirandly to mc.
The craige was vgly, stay, and dreich*,
The trie heich, lang, and smal*;
I was affrayd to mount sa hich
For fcir to get anc fall.
AfTrayit to say it*,
I luikit \*p on loft ;
Quhiles minting, quhiles stinting',
My purpose changit oft.
* To <tretch above
my reach.
Then Dreid, with Danger and Dispairc,
Forlxid my minting anie mair
To raxe abouc my rcichc^
"Quhat, tusche!" quod Curage, "man, go to,
• 0\-id, Metamorf hosts , i. 452, and on.
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
He is hot daft that hes ado',
And spairis for euery speiche.
For I haue oft hard wise men say,
And we may see our-sellis,
That fortune helps the hardie ay.
And pultrones plaine repellis.
Than feir not, nor heir not
Dreid, Danger, or Dispaire;
To fazarts hard hazarts^
Is dcid or 3 they cum thair.
259
but foolish that
has aughi to do.
2 To dastards
hard hazards.
3 Is death ere.
" Quha speidis bot sic as heich aspyris ?
Quha triumphis nocht bot sic as tyris
To win a nobill name?
Of schrinking quhat bot schame succeidis?
Than do as thou wald haif thy dcidis
In register of fame.
I put the cais, thou nocht preuaild,
Sa thou with honour die.
Thy life, bot not thy courage, faild,
Sail poetis pen of thee.
Thy name than from Fame than
Sail neuir be cut aff:
Thy graif ay sail haif ay
That honest epitaff.
"Quhat can thou loose, quhen honour lyuis?
Renowne thy vertew ay reuyuis
Gif valiauntlie thou end."
Quod Danger, " Hulie^ friend, talc heid ! "Softly.
26o
.-/ LEXANDER MONTGO.MEKIE.
• Take care.
' thou catch no
hurt.
Vntymous spurring .spillis the steid.
Tak tent' (juhat ye pretend.
Tliocht Courage counsel! thee to dim,
Bewar thou kep na skaith'.
Ilaif thou na help hot Hope and him,
They may heguyle the haith.
Thy-sell now can tell now
The counsell of thae clarkis,
Quhairthrow yit, I trow yit,
Thy breist dois licir the markis.
1 few limes thou
secjt.
4 Foolish haste.
5 Beguiles.
6 considers not.
"Brunt bairn with fyre the danger dreidis ;
Sa I heleif thy bosome bleidis
Sen last that fyre thou felt.
Besydis this, seindell tymis th^ seis'
That euer Curage keipis the keyis
Of knawledge at his lx;lt.
Thocht he bid fordwart with the gunnis.
Small powder he prouydis.
Be nocht ane novice of the nunnis
That saw nocht baith the sydis.
Fuil-haist^ ay almaist ay
Ouirsyliss the sicht of sum
Quha huikis not**, nor luikis not
Quhat eftir\s'ard may cum.
7 learn.
"Yit Wisdomc wischis the to wey
This figour of philosophey —
A lessoun worth to leir' —
Quhilk is, in tyme for to tak tent,
THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.
261
And not, when tyme is past, repent,
And buy repentance deir.
Is thair na honoure efter lyfe
Except thou slay thy-sell?
Quhairfoir hes Attropus' that knyfe?
I trow thou cannot tell,
That, but it, wald cut it
That Clotho- skairse hes spun,
Distroying thy joying
Befoire it be begun.
• Atropos, eldest
of the Fates,
presiding over
death.
= youngest of the
Fates, presiding
over birth.
"All ouirs are repuit to be vyce* —
Ore hich, ore law, ore rasche, ore nyce,
Ore heit, or yit ore cauld.
Thou seemes vnconstant be thy sings 3;
Thy thocht is on ane thousand things;
Thou wattis'' not quhat thou wald.
Let Fame hir pittie on the powre
Quhan all thy banis ar brokin :
Yone Slae, suppose 5 you think it soure,
May satisfie to slokkin^
Thy drouth? now, O youth now,
Quhilk drownis thee with desyre.
Aswage than thy rage, man,
Foull water quenches fyre.
3 signs.
4 knowest.
5 although.
6 slake.
7 drought.
* •' Extremes are vicious." The poet here advocates Horace's
"golden mean," the counsel of the Greek proverb M»S£» ayav,
said to have been one of the inscriptions on the tripod of the
oracle at Delphi.
262
ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.
« Than fiRht with
ten at once
• practice.
3 liefer, rather.
"Quhat fulc art thou to die of thirst,
And now may quench it, gif thou Usl,
So easily, but paine !
Maire honor is to vanquisch anc
Nor feicht with tensum' and be lane.
And outhir hurt or slanc.
The prattick' is, to bring to passe.
And not to enterjjrise ;
And als guid drinking out of glas
As gold, in ony wise.
I leuir^ haue euer
Anc foulc in hand, or tway,
Nor seand ten fleand
About mc all the day."
[The argument is t.-ikcn up l>y Hope, Will, Kcnv.n, r.xiH.iicncc,
anti •ithcr alli-gorical qualities, who each urj;c their view <»f the
cntcrnrise. Finally, by all in company, the ascent is essayed,
and tnc Chcrric secured.]
lini iXIGHT IS NEIR GONE.*
Hay! nou the day dauis'
The joHe Cok crauis;
Nou shroudis the shauis-
Throu Natur anone.
The thissell-cok3 cryis
On louers vha lyis :
Nou skailHs-t the skyis:
The nicht is neir gone.
' dawns.
■the coverts attire
themselves.
3 throstle-cock.
4 scatter.
The feildis ouerflouis
\Vith gouanss that grouis,
Quhair HHes lyk lou^ is,
Als rid as the rone 7.
The turtill that treu is
With nots that reneuis
Hir pairtie^ perseuis;
The night is neir gone.
' "This lovely poem is one of the happiest efforts of Mont-
gomerie's muse, and shows his lyric genius at its best. It is
perhaps the oldest set of words extant to the air 'Hey tuttie,
taittie ' — the war-note sounded for the Bruce on the field of
Bannockburn, and familiarized to ever)'one by Burns' ' Scots
wha hae.' The song was one of those chosen for adaptation by
the Wedderburns in their ' Compendious Bulk of godly and
spiritual! .Sangis.'" — (Cran.stoun, Notes, p. 371.)
3 daisies.
6 flame.
7 As red as the
rowan, moun-
tain ash.
8 partner.
264
.-/ I.EXANDER MONTGO.yERIE.
« Toss high their
tino, aii(lcr>.
hedgehoKN.
Nou hairtis with hyndis
Conformc to thair kyndis
Hie tursis thair tyndis'
On grund vhair they gronc.
Nou hurchonis' with hairis
Ay passis in pairis ;
Quhilk deuly declairis
The night is neir gont:.
each one.
4 attends.
5 males.
Thi- sesone cxcellis
Thrugh sueetnes that sniellis ;
Nou Cupid coniiK-'llis
Our hairtis cchonc^
On Venus vha vaikis\
To muse on our niaikis\
Syn sing for thair saikis —
The night is ncir gone.
* pre para.
7 foes.
*i.t. The stallion.
9rean.(7)
•0 Rallops.
All curageous knichtis
Aganis the day dichtis*
The breist-plate that bright is
To feght with thair fone'.
The stoned .steed* stampis
Throu curage, and crampis',
Syn on the land lampis'°.
The night is ncir gone.
<■ men, stout
fellows.
'- strong
weapons.
' i throne.
The freikis" on feildis,
That wight wapins'- weildis,
With shyning bright sheildis,
[As] Titan in trone'-;
THE NIGHT IS NEIR GONE.
265
Stiff speiris in reistis
Ouer cursoris cristis
Ar brok on thair breistis :
The night is neir gone.
So hard ar thair hittis,
Some sueyis, some sittis,
And some perforce flittis'
On grund vhill they grone.
Syn groomis- that gay is
On blonkis that brayis^
With suordis assayis :
The night is neir gone.
• change
quarters.
- Then gallants.
3 On white steeds
that neigh.
266
ALEXANDER MONTGOMEKIE.
AN ADMONITIOUN TO YOUNG
LASS IS.
3 fcignini;.
4 wrestle.
S have ; i.t. po>-
session .ilicady
hair satisfies.
* smith.
7 boldly.
A UONY " No," with smyling looks aganc,
I wald yc Icirnd, sen ihcy so comely ar.
As touching " Yes," if ye suld speik so plane,
I might reprove you to haif said so far.
Noght that your grant in ony wayis micht gar'
Me loth the fruit that curage ocht to chuse ;
Bot I wald only haif you seme to skar^
And let me tak it, fenzcing^ to refuse;
And warsilH, a.s it war against your will,
Appeiring angrie, thoght ye haif no yre :
For haif5, ye heir, is haldin half a fill.
I speik not this as trouing for to tyre ;
Bot as the forger^, vhen he feeds his f)Te,
With sparks of water maks it burnc more bald';
So sueet denyall doubillis bot desyr,
And quickins curage fra becomming cald.
' mu&t.
9 plentiful.
" learn.
" for a time.
Wald ye Ixj made of, yc man'' mak it nyce ;
For dainties heir ar delicat and deir,
Bot plenties things ar prysde to litill pryce.
Then, thoght ye hearken, let no wit ye heir,
Bot look auay, and len thame ay your eir.
For, folou love, they say, and it will flie.
Wald ye be lovd, this lessone mon ye leir »°;
Flie vhylome" love, and it will folou thee.
TO HIS MAISTRES. 267
TO HIS MAISTRES.
Bright amorous ee vhare Love in ambush [lyes] —
Cleir cristall tear distilde at our depairt' 'parting.
Sucet secreit sigh more peircing nor a dairt —
Inchanting voce, beuitcher of the wyse —
Quhyt ivory hand vhilk thrust my finger[s pryse] —
I challenge you, the causers of my smarte,
As homiceids and murtherers of my harte.
In Resone's court to suffer ane assyse.
Bot oh ! I fear, yea rather wot I weill,
To be repledgt ye plainly will appeill
To Love, whom Resone never culd comm[and].
Bot, since I can not better myn estate,
Yit, vhill I live, at leist I sail regrate
Ane ee, a teir, a sigh, a voce, a hand.
268
ALEXANl^LK MONJ uOMEK/E.
TO HIS MAIS IRES.
' Since then.
3 separate.
'key.
< fcareU.
So suetc a kis yislrcnc fra thcc I rcfl
In Ixjuing doun thy Injdy on the l)cd,
That cvin my lyfc within thy lippis I left.
Scnsynt' from thcc my spirit wald ncucr shed
To folou thcc it from my lx»dy fled,
.\iid left my corj)s als cold as ony kic^
Bot vhcn the danger of my death I drcds
To seik my spreit I sent my hartc to thee ;
Bot it wes so inamored with thyn ce,
With thee it myndit lyku>-se to rcmane.
So thou hes keepit captive all the thrie,
More glaid to byde then to rcturne agane.
Except thy breath thare places had suppleit,
Euen in thyn armcs thair doulles had I deiL
TO THE FOR ME.
2fll()
TO THE FOR ME.
SuF.TE Nichtingalc in holcne' grene that han[ts]
To sport thy-sclf, and spcciall in the spring,
Thy chivring chirHs^, vhilks changingHe thou [chants,]
Males all the roches round about the ring ;
Vhilk slaiks my sorou, so to heir the sing.
And lights my louing langour at the leist ;
Yit, thoght3 thou sees not, sillie, saikles'* thing!
The piercing pykis brodss at thy bony breist^.
Euin so am I, by plesur lykuyis preist?,
In gritest danger vhair I most delyte.
Bot since thy song for shoring^ hes not ceist
Suld feble I for fcir my conqueis quyt??
Na, na, — I love the, freshest Phcenix fair !
In beuty, birth, in bounty but compair'".
holly.
' quivering trills.
3 though.
4 frail, innocent.
5 thorns prick.
6 bonnie breast.
7 likewise tried.
3 threatening.
9 my conquest (or
object of con-
quest) quit.
»o w ithout peer.
Williatn Hodge &' Co., Printers, Glasgow
ABBOTSFORD SERIES OF THE
SCOTTISH POETS.
Edited ry GEORGE EYRE-TODD.
Bound in cloth, cro^wn Svo., 3J. 6ti. each volume.
A limited number of copies printed on large antique paper,
Roxburgh binding, price 5s. nett.
This series is intended to reproduce in popular form the best
Works of the Scottish Poets, from the earliest times onwards ;
and it is hoped within a moderate number of volumes to furnish
a comprehensive library of the Poetry of Scotland.
No liberties whatever are taken with the texts, which are
edited from the best editions, and furnished with necessary intro-
ductions and glossaries.
The first three volumes of the series are now ready : —
EARLY SCOTTISH POETRY: Thomas the Rhymer, John
Barbour, Androw of Wyntoun, and Henry the Minstrel.
MEDIAEVAL SCOTTISH POETRY: James I. of Scotland,
Rol)crt lienryson, William Dunljar, and Gavin Douglas.
SCOTTISH POETRY OF THE SIXTEENTH
CENTURY: .Sir David Lyndsay, John Bellenden,
James V., Sir Richard Maitland, Alexander Scot, and
Alexander Montgomerie.
The following volume is in preparation : —
SCOTTISH BALLAD POETRY: The best historical,
legendary, and imaginative ballads of Scotland.
The particulars of succeeding volumes will be afterwards
announced.
PRESS OPINIONS.
EARLY SCOTTISH POl^TRV.
A good service i- ' -'■■ - ' • t lo ScoltUh litemturc !■>■ Mr. Eyrc-TwIil in
his " Alilxjtsford Seri 'illt^. Min intrthluctory csvayv sliow Ic^niiliK,
insight, nntl critical .^ .,. .^..ilc the dLscriniinatioii exercised in his Ireat-
mcrit of (he text is excellent.— A valuable acquisition to the student's library.
— Paity L hroniclt.
Should (os-eNS great interest for all lovers of i>oetr\-. 'ITie volume fdK
whnt apiMTOrs to tjc a gap in the ranks of our pulilishcd l>ooV.s of to-day. —
Graf'hic.
I'he first instalment of the AbbotsTord 5ierie« Ls full of promise. —
AlhcHirHiii.
What Mr. RyTC-Todd hits undertaken has l>een carried out in a manner
deserving of the hichest jir.'xise. Such ' ; ■ " '■ \ this
" Alilioisfiird Scries, uIulIi, when ihr have
apjicircil, will h-ive ■.' • ■ ' • ' « t, .. ,...^.icnsive
libr.iry of the Piiclry i.'./.
lliis (irst v.iliiiii. .%-onhy effort to open np
what is to all la;: ■ ■•xt~<\.~Hritiih WttUy.
It is a ^rati!) j in our early |><M.-lry that
an attempt is made in su pratscwuttby a lurm as this lo attract a wider circle
of readers to their study. . . . Kverjone who has the liest interests of
literature at heart will wish them success. — Sccttman.
Kvcryone must give a heart v weKoine to this new venture to bring the
liest fjortions of Scottish i' 'of all. We hojic not a
few teachers will liavc th.- of the volumes into their
higher cl.'Lsses alongside ul i i..i.i'w, »ji.i il.i- muivrto been duniinanl, much
to the loss of our home literature. — Aitrdten Journai.
MEDL'EVAL SCOTTISH POETRY.
We tru.st that Mr. Eyre-l'odd may be encouraged to proceed with thi&
.\bl)Otsford Series of the Scottish I'oels, for the two volumes which he has
already published make it abundantly clear that he possesses the requisite
knowledge, taste, iiisi-^ht, and critical skill neces.sary to the successful
accomplishment of so liilTicult a task. — Th( Spiaker.
We can .strongly recommend Mr. Kyre-'l'odd's " Medixval Scottish
Poetry " as a work creditable alike to himself and to his publisher. — Literary
Ofi'tnion.
" Media:val Scottish Poetry" is a meritorious and a welcome popularisa-
tion of some of the IjCsI examples of our fifteenth century verse. — Scottish
Ltadcr. •
This volume more than fulfils the promise of the first. — MexUm Church.
The second volume of Mr. Kyre-'l'odd's " .Abliotiford Series" amply
fulfils the promise of the earlier instalment, as regards all that the editor
himself could be responsible for. — C,lasg(ni' Ilcralti.
The editor lias done his work wonderfully well, and, considering the aim
of the series, with perfect thoroughness. — Freeman's Journal.
A useful little volume of selections from the Media:val Poetry of Scotland.
— Daily Nczvs.
This series is a most excellent one, and its production deserves every
encouragement. It promises to l>e a permanent addition to the very few-
works we have which deal with Scottish poetical literature as a literature ;
and one speciality in it worthy of all praise is the concise and .scholarly way
in which the editing has been done. — Aberdeen Daily Free Press.
The editor's work is well and conscientiously done. — British li''eekly.
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