And scho tald on baith mair and lesse.
Quhen scho was telland as scho wist[307],
The Curate Kittie wald have kist;
Bot yit ane countenance he bure
Degeist[308], devote, daine[309], and demure;
And syne began hir to exempne[310].
He wes best at the efter game.
Quod he, “Have ye na wrangous geir[311]?”
Quod scho, “I staw[312] ane pek of beir.”
Quod he, “That suld restorit be,
Tharefor delyver it to me.
Tibbie and Peter bad me speir[313];
Be my conscience, thay sall it heir.”
Quod he, “Leve ye in lecherie?”
Quod scho, “Will Leno mowit[314] me.”
Quod he, “His wyfe that sall I tell,
To mak hir acquentance with my-sell.”
Quod he, “Ken[315] ye na heresie?”
“I wait nocht[316] quhat that is,” quod sche.
Quod he, “Hard ye na Inglis bukis?”[317]
Quod scho, “My maister on thame lukis.”
Quod he, “The bischop that sall 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 sall wit[318];
And he sall 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,[319] my brother,
And he full clenely did me schryve.
Bot he wes sumthing talkatyve;
He speirit mony strange case[320],
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 plak[321],
Thocht[322] he na pryce with me wald mak;
And mekil[323] 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
Of God for syn, nor the afflictioun
And in this lyfe the greit mischeif
Ordanit to punische hure and theif;
Nor schew he me of hellis pane,
That I mycht feir, and vice refraine;
He counsalit 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 sall us never greve.
He teichit me nocht for till traist
The confort of the Haly Ghaist.
He bad me nocht to Christ be kynd[324],
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[325]
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[326] Sandie
Give thee agane, with handie dandie.’
Syne[327] into pilgrimage to pas--
The verray way to wantounes.
Of all his pennance I was glaid,
I had them all perqueir[328], I said.
To mow and steill I ken the pryce,
I sall it set on cincq and syce[329].
Bot he my counsale culd nocht keip;
He maid him be the fyre to sleip,
Syne cryit, ‘Colleris[330], beif and coillis[331],
Hois, and schone with dowbill soillis,
Caikis and candill, creische[332] and salt,
Curnis[333] of meill, and luiffillis[334] of malt,
Wollin and linning, werp and woft--
Dame! keip the keis of your woll 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[335] this Confessioun,
And garris all men understand
That it is Goddis awin[336] command.
Yit it is nocht but mennis drame[337].
The pepill to confound and schame.
It is nocht ellis but mennis law,
Maid mennis mindis for to knaw,
Quharethrow thay syle[338] thame as thay will,
And makis thair law conforme tharetill,
Sittand in mennis conscience
Abone Goddis magnificence;
And dois the pepill teche and tyste[339]
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,
Nor tak 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 are 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 sall of thy saule have reuth,
And thee instruct in-to the treuth,
And with the Word of Veritie
Sall confort and sall counsall thee,
The sacramentis schaw thee at lenth,
Thy lytle faith to stark and strenth[340],
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 descryve[341],
Wes in the gude Kirk primityve;
Swa wes confessioun ordanit first,
Thocht Codrus[342] kyte[343] suld cleve and birst.
[307] wished.
[308] grave.
[309] modest.
[310] examine.
[311] goods.
[312] stole.
[313] enquire.
[314] played with.
[315] know.
[316] I know not.
[317] 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.”
[318] know.
[319] “Sir” was by courtesy the ordinary title of churchmen.
[320] hap, event.
[321] the third of a penny.
[322] Though.
[323] much.
[324] kindred.
[325] each day.
[326] cause.
[327] Afterwards.
[328] by heart.
[329] “five and six,” terms in dice play.
[330] Collars.
[331] coals.
[332] lard.
[333] grains.
[334] handfuls.
[335] without.
[336] own.
[337] dream.
[338] deceive.
[339] entice.
[340] to make stout and strong.
[341] describe.
[342] Perhaps the ill-natured rhetorician mentioned by Virgil,
_Eclogues_, v. and vii.
[343] belly.
SQUYER MELDRUMIS JUSTYNG.[344]
Hary the Aucht, King of Ingland,
That tyme at Caleis wes lyand,[345]
With his triumphand ordinance[346],
Makand weir[347] 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 daylie skirmishing,
Quhare men of armis brak monie sting[348].
Quhen to the Squyer Meldrum
Wer tauld thir novellis[349] all and sum,
He thocht he wald vesie[350] the weiris;
And waillit[351] 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
He wes sone put in ordinance:
Richt so was all his companie
That on him waitit continuallie.
Thair was into the Inglis oist[352]
Ane campioun[353] that blew greit boist.
He was ane stout man and ane strang,
Quhilk oist wald with his conduct gang[354]
Outthrow[355] the greit armie of France
His valiantnes for to avance;
And Maister Talbart was his name,[356]
Of Scottis and Frenche quhilk spak disdane,
And on his bonnet usit to beir,
Of silver fine, takinnis of weir[357];
And proclamatiounis he gart mak[358]
That he wald, for his ladies saik,
With any gentilman of France
To fecht[359] 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[360]
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.”
Than said he, “It wer greit schame
Without battell ye suld pass hame;
Thairfoir to God I mak ane vow,
The morne[361] my-self sall fecht with yow
Outher on horsback or on fute.
Your crakkis[362] I count thame not ane cute[363].
I sall 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[364].
Thow art too young, and hes no micht
To fecht with me that is so wicht[365].
To speik to me thow suld have feir,
For I have sik practik[366] in weir
That I wald not effeirit[367] be
To mak debait aganis sic three;
For I have stand in monie stour[368],
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,[369]
Traist weill I sall 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[370] I sall yow yeild,
Sa that siclyke[371] ye do to me.”
“That I sall do, be God!” quod he,
“And thairto I give thee my hand.”
And swa betwene thame maid ane band[372]
That thay suld meit upon the morne.
Bot Talbart maid at him bot scorne,
Lychtlyand[373] him with wordis of pryde,
Syne hamewart to his oist culd ryde,
And shew the brethren of his land
How ane young Scot had tane[374] on hand,
To fecht with him beside Montruill;
“Bot I traist he sall prufe the fuill.”
Quod thay, “The morne that sall we ken[375];
The Scottis are haldin hardie men.”
Quod he, “I compt thame not ane cute.
He sall returne upon his fute,
And leif with me his armour bricht;
For weill I wait[376] he has no micht,
On hors nor fute, to fecht with me.”
Quod thay, “The morne that sall we se.”
Quhan to Monsieour De Obenie[377]
Reportit was the veritie,
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[378] him the best.
Of that the Squyer was rejoisit,
And cheisit the best as he suppoisit,
And lap on hym delyverlie[379].
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 weid[380],
All weill enarmit, saif the heid.
He lap upon his cursour wicht,
And straucht[381] him in his stirroppis richt.
His speir and scheild and helme wes borne
With squyeris that raid him beforne[382].
Ane velvot cap on heid he bair,
Ane quaif[383] of gold to heild[384] 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[385] full richelie,
Coverit with satyne cramesie[386].
Than fordward raid this campioun
With sound of trumpet and clarioun,
And spedilie spurrit ouir the bent[387],
Lyke Mars the God armipotent.
Thus leif we rydand our Squyar,
And speik of Maister Talbart mair:
Quhilk gat up airlie in the morrow[388],
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,
And bait[389] me till he gart[390] me bleid,
And drew me backwart fra my steid.
Quhat this suld mene I cannot say,
Bot I was never in sic ane fray[391].”
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[392],
And think weill throw your hie courage
This day ye sall 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 browderit[393] 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[394],
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
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[395],
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[396] rudelie at aither ran,
And straik at uther with sa greit ire
That fra thair harnes flew the fyre.
Thair speiris wer sa teuch[397] and strang
That aither uther to eirth doun dang[398].
Baith hors and man, with speir and scheild,
Than flatlingis[399] lay into the feild.
Than Maister Talbart was eschamit.
“Forsuith for ever I am defamit!”
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,
Quhen thay saw him sa feirelie[400]
Loup on his hors sa galyeardlie[401].
The Squyer liftit his visair
Ane lytill space to take the air.
Thay bad hym wyne, and he it drank,
And humillie he did thame thank.
Be that Talbart on hors wes mountit,
And of our Squyer lytill countit.
And cryit gif he durst undertak
To run anis[402] for his ladies saik?
The Squyer answerit hie on hicht,
“That sall 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,
And ane greit speir in hand he hent[403].
The Squyer in his hand he thrang[404]
His speir, quhilk was baith greit and lang,
With ane sharp heid of grundin steill,
Of quhilk he wes appleisit weill[405].
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.
Than trumpettis blew triumphantlie,
And thai[406] twa campiounis egeirlie
Thai spurrit thair hors, with speir on breist
Pertlie to preif thair pith thay preist[407].
That round, rink roume wes at utterance[408];
Bot Talbartis hors with ane mischance,
He outterit[409], and to ryn was laith;
Quhairof Talbart was wonder wraith.
The Squyer furth his rink[410] he ran,
Commendit weill with everie man;
And him dischargeit of his speir
Honestlie 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[411] as he had bene ane beir.
And bowtit[412] fordward with ane bend[413],
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[414] man thocht wounder,
Quhilk soundit lyke ane crak of thunder.
And nane of thame thair marrow[415] mist:
Sir Talbartis speir in sunder brist,
Bot the Squyer with his burdoun[416]
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[417] 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[418]
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 sall never just[419] agane.”
And sweitlie to the Squyer said,
“Thow knawis the cunning[420] that we maid,
Quhilk of us twa suld tyne[421] 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.
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 Inglis band
Tuke the young Squyer be the hand,
And led him to the pailyeoun[422],
And gart him mak collatioun.
Quhen Talbartis woundis wes bund up fast
The Inglis capitane to him past,
And prudentlie 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[423] him in his armes,
Sayand, “Hartlie I yow forgeve.”
And then the Squyer tuik his leve,
Commendit weill with everie man.
Than wichtlie[424] on his hors he wan,
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.
[344] The hero of the romance of which this forms the most important
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.
[345] Henry VIII. lay at Calais in July, 1513.
[346] array.
[347] Making war.
[348] pikes.
[349] this news.
[350] view, visit.
[351] chose.
[352] host.
[353] champion.
[354] go.
[355] Throughout.
[356] 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 Græme. See _Early Scottish Poetry_, p.
173.
[357] tokens of war.
[358] caused be made.
[359] fight.
[360] a valiant warrior.
[361] To-morrow.
[362] words, boasts.
[363] a small piece of straw.
[364] gone astray.
[365] strong.
[366] such practice.
[367] afraid.
[368] storm.
[369] Gaul, son of Morni, first the enemy and afterwards the ally of
Fingal, is one of the chief heroes of the Ossianic poems.
[370] belongings.
[371] in such fashion.
[372] covenant.
[373] Making light of.
[374] taken.
[375] know.
[376] well I know.
[377] 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.
[378] choose.
[379] nimbly.
[380] in warlike garb.
[381] stretched.
[382] before.
[383] coif, band.
[384] hold.
[385] caparisoned.
[386] crimson cloth.
[387] over the rough grassy ground.
[388] morning.
[389] beat.
[390] made.
[391] such a fright.
[392] covering.
[393] embroidered.
[394] doubt.
[395] staves, spears.
[396] Wonderfully.
[397] tough.
[398] dashed.
[399] flatwise.
[400] nimbly.
[401] gallantly.
[402] once.
[403] seized.
[404] grasped.
[405] well pleased.
[406] these.
[407] Boldly to prove their strength they pressed.
[408] coursing room was from the extremity, _à l’outrance_.
[409] swerved.
[410] course.
[411] violent.
[412] bolted.
[413] bound.
[414] each.
[415] match.
[416] pike, spear.
[417] cuirasse.
[418] place.
[419] joust.
[420] compact.
[421] lose.
[422] pavilion.
[423] embraced.
[424] gallantly.
THE SQUYERIS ADEW.[425]
Fair weill, ye lemant[426] lampis of lustines[427]
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[428] of Stratherne, my Ladie Soverane!
For quhome I sched my blud with mekill[429] pane.
Yit wald my Ladie luke at evin and morrow[430]
On my legend, at length scho wald not mis
How for hir saik I sufferit mekill sorrow.
Yit give[431] I micht at this time get my wis[432],
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!
[425] 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.
[426] shining.
[427] beauty.
[428] Star.
[429] much.
[430] evening and morning.
[431] if.
[432] wish.
ANE PLEASANT SATYRE OF THE THRIE ESTAITIS.
PROLOGUE.
_Spoken by DILIGENCE._
THE FATHER and founder of faith and felicitie,
That your fassioun[433] formed to his similitude,
And his SONE, our Saviour, scheild in necessitie,
That bocht yow from baillis[434], ransonit on the Rude,
Repleadgeand[435] his presonaris with his hart blude;
The HALIE GAIST, governour and grounder of grace,
Of wisdome and weilfair baith fontane and flude,
Saif yow all that I sie seisit[436] in this place,
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 sall speik in generall,
For pastyme and for play:
Thairfoir till all our rymis be rung
And our mistoinit[437] sangis be sung
Let everie man keip weill ane toung
And everie woman tway.
AN INTERLUDE OF THE PUIR MAN AND THE PARDONER.
[_Heir sall entir Pauper the puir man._
PAUPER.
Of your almis, gude folks, for God’s luife[438] of heavin,
For I have motherles bairns either sax or seavin.
Gif ye’ill gif me na gude[439], for the luife of Jesus
Wische[440] me the richt way till Sanct-Androes.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair haif wee gottin this gudly companzeoun?
Swyith[441]! out of the feild, [thow] fals raggit loun.
God wait[442] gif heir be ane weill-keipit place,
Quhen sic ane vilde[443] begger carle may get entres[444].
Fy on yow officiars, that mends nocht thir failyies[445]!
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 thou rugs[446]?
PAUPER.
Quha Devill, maid thee ane gentill man, that wald cut not thy lugs[447]?
DILIGENCE.
Quhat now! me-thinks the carle begins to crack[448].
Swyith, carle, away, or be this day I’se break thy back.
[_Heir sall the Carle clim up and sit in the King’s tchyre._
Cum doun, or be God’s croun, fals loun, I sall slay thee.
PAUPER.
Now sweir be thy brunt[449] schinnis, the Devill ding[450] thame fra thee.
Quhat say ye till thir court dastards? be[451] thay get hail clais[452],
Sa sune as thay leir[453] to sweir and trip on thair tais.
DILIGENCE.
Me-thocht the carle callit me knave, evin in my face.
Be Sanct Fillane! thou sal be slane bot gif[454] thou ask grace.
Loup[455] doun, or, be the gude Lord, thow sall lose thy heid.
PAUPER.
I sall anis drink or I ga, thocht[456] thou had sworne my deid[457].
[_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[458].
PAUPER.
Thou sall be faine to fetch agane the ledder, or I loup.
I sall sit heir into this tcheir till I have tumde[459] the stoup[460].
[_Heir sall the Carle loup aff the scaffald._
DILIGENCE.
Swyith[461]! beggar, bogill[462], haist thé away;
Thow art over pert to spill our Play.
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.
Marie! meikill[463] 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.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair wald thou be, carle? the suth[464] 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;[465]
Thairfor the meikill din Devill droun all the meinzie[466].
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 sall declair yow the black veritie.
My father was ane auld man and ane hoir[467],
And was of age fourscoir of yeirs and moir.
And Mald, my mother, was fourscoir and fyfteine,
And with my labour I did thame baith susteine.
Wee had ane meir that caryit salt and coill[468],
And everie ilk[469] yeir scho brocht us hame ane foill.
Wee had thrie ky[470] that was baith fat and fair,
Nane tydier into the toun of Air.[471]
My father was sa waik of blude and bane
That he deit[472], quhairfoir my mother maid great maine.
Then scho deit, within ane day or two;
And thair began my povertie and wo.
Our gude gray meir was baittand[473] on the feild,
And our land’s laird tuik hir for his hyreild.[474]
The vickar tuik the best cow be the heid,
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,
Till at the last scho deit for verie sorrow.
And quhen the vickar hard tell my wyfe was dead
The thrid cow he cleikit[475] be the heid.
Thair umest clayis[476], that was of rapploch[477] gray,
The vickar gart his clark bear them away.[478]
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.
DILIGENCE.
How did the person[479]? was he not thy gude freind?
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 grot[480],
Quhilk I purpois to gif ane man of law.
DILIGENCE.
Thou art the daftest fuill that ever I saw.
Trows[481] 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?
DILIGENCE.
Thay have na law exceptand consuetude,
Quhilk law, to them, is sufficient and gude.
PAUPER.