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 encountered 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 of
Coldingham _in commendam_; 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.
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 Camæleon_, written in
1571. 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
negotiations 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, notwithstanding, 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 stronghold 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 latter received was from an act of
parliament obtained by the Regent Morton as head of the king’s party
in 1571. 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
proceedings 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 downfall 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, possesses value
for the example which it affords of private family history of the
time. He was founder of the 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 II. Maitland’s third son, Thomas,
was the author of several Latin poems,[1079] but is best remembered as
one of the interlocutors in Buchanan’s famous treatise _De Jure Regni
apud Scotos_.
[1079] Printed in the appendix to the Maitland Club volume of Sir
Richard’s works.
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 engaged 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
Maitland’s life. After descending in the family for three generations,
these manuscripts were bought, at the sale of the Duke of Lauderdale’s
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 selection, 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 complete in 1830.
Besides his original poems and his poetical collections, Maitland
is known to have written a _History of the House of Seytoun_ 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 observation and shrewd worldly wisdom, they throw a
light, in nearly every line, upon the life and manners of that 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.
Quhair is the blythness that hes bein
Bayth in brugh and landwart sein[1080]
Amang lordis, and ladeis schein[1081],
Dansing, singing, game, and play?
Bot weill I wat nocht quhat thay mein;
All merriness is worne away.
For now I heir na worde of Yule
In kirk, on cassay[1082], nor in skuill:
Lordis lettis thair kitchingis cule,
And drawis thame to the Abbay,[1083]
And skant hes ane to keip thair mule;
All houshalding is worne away.
I saw no gysaris[1084] all this yeir,
Bot kirkmen cled lyk men of weir,[1085]
That never cummis in the queir[1086];
Lyk ruffianis is thair array;
To teitche and preitche that will not leir[1087];
The kirk gudis thai waste away.
Kirkmen affoir[1088] wer gud of lyfe,
Preitchit, teichit, and staunchit stryfe;
Thay feirit nather sword nor knyf,
For luif of God the faith to say;
All honorit thame, baith man and wyf,
Devotion wes nocht away.
Our fatheris wyse were, and discreit;
Thai had bayth honour, men, and meit;
With luif[1089] thai did thair tennentis treit,
And had aneuch in press to lay;
Thay wantit nather malt nor quheit,
And mirrines wes nocht away.
And we hald nather Yule nor Pace[1090],
Bot seik our meit from place to place;
And we haive nather luk nor grace.
We gar[1091] our landis dowbill pay;
Our tennentis cry Alace! Alace!
That routh[1092] and pittie is away.
Now we haive mair, it is weill kend[1093],
Nor our forbearis[1094] had to spend;
Bot far les at the yeiris end;
And never hes ane mirrie day:
God will na ryches to us send
Sua lang as honour is away.
We waist far mair now, lyk vaine fuillis,
We and our paige, to turs[1095] our muillis,
Nor thai did than, that haid grit Yuillis,
Of meit and drink said never nay;
Thay had lang furmes[1096] quhair we haive stuillis,
And mirrines wes nocht away.
Of our wanthrift sum wyttis playes[1097],
And sum thair wantoune vaine arrayis;
Sum the wyt on thair wyfes layes
That in the court wald gang[1098] sa gay
And care nocht quha the merchand payis,
Quhill[1099] part of land be put away.
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[1100] 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[1101]
We laubour justice to delay:
Affectioune blindis us sa lang,
All equitie is put away.
To mak actis we haive sum feill[1102];
God watt gif that we keip tham weill!
We cum to bar with jak of steill[1103]
As we wald bost the judge and fray[1104].
Of sic justice I have na skeill[1105],
Quhair reull and ordour is away.
Our lawis ar lichtleit for abusioune[1106];
Sumtyme is clokit with collusioune;
Quhilk causis of bluid the great effusioune,
For na man spairis now to slay.
Quhat bringis cuntreis to confusioune,
Bot quhair that justice is away?
Quha is the wyte[1107], quha can schew us?
Quha bot our nobillis, that sould know us,
And till honorabill deidis draw us!
Let never comouneweill decay,
Or els sum mischief will befaw us,
And nobillnes we put away.
Put our awin lawis to executioune;
Upon transgressouris mak punitioune;
To cruell 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.
[1080] Seen both in town and country.
[1081] fair.
[1082] causeway.
[1083] 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.
[1084] The performance of these mediæval 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.
[1085] 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.
[1086] choir.
[1087] learn.
[1088] formerly.
[1089] love.
[1090] Easter.
[1091] cause.
[1092] plenty.
[1093] known.
[1094] ancestors.
[1095] truss, caparison. _Fr._ trousse.
[1096] long forms, settles.
[1097] For our prodigality some blame plays.
[1098] go.
[1099] Till.
[1100] cumber.
[1101] trespass upon.
[1102] knowledge.
[1103] This was a common abuse of the time. The Earl of Bothwell, when
called to answer for the murder of Darnley, appeared in Edinburgh with
a following of five thousand men.
[1104] overbear and intimidate the judge.
[1105] approval.
[1106] slighted because of abuse.
[1107] blame.
SATIRE ON THE TOUN LADYES.
Sum wyfis of the burrows-toun
Sa wondir[1108] vane ar, and wantoun,
In warld thay watt[1109] not quhat to weir.
On claythis thay wair[1110] mony a croun;
And all for newfangilnes[1111] of geir.
Thair bodyes bravelie thay atyir,
Of carnall lust to eik[1112] the fyir;
I fairlie[1113] 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[1114]
Of fynest camroche thair fuksaillis;[1115]
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
And of fyne silk thair furrit cloikis,
With hingand[1116] sleivis, lyk geill poikis[1117];
Na preiching will gar thame forbeir
To weir all thing that sinne provoikis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
Thair wylecots man[1118] weill be hewit,
Broudirit[1119] richt braid, with pasmentis sewit[1120]:
I trow, quha wald the matter speir[1121],
That thair gudmen had caus to rew it
That evir thair wyfis weir sic geir.
Thair wovin hois of silk ar schawin,
Barrit abone with tasteis drawin[1122];
With gartens of ane new maneir,
To gar thair courtlines be knawin;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
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.
Thair collars, carcats, and hals beidis[1123],
With velvet hats heicht[1124] on thair heidis,
Coirdit with gold lyik ane younkeir[1125],
Brouderit about with goldin threidis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
Thair schone of velvot, and thair muillis[1126];
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.
I mein[1127] of thame thair honour dreidis;
Quhy sould thay nocht have honest weidis,
To thair estait doand effeir[1128]?
I mein of thame thair stait exceidis;
And all for newfangilnes of geir.
For sumtymes wyfis sa grave hes bein,
Lyik giglets cled wald nocht be sein.
Of burgess wyfis thoch I speak heir
Think weill[1129] of all wemen I mein,
On vaniteis that waistis geir.
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[1130] decay,
Quhen thay sa vainlie waist thair geir.
Thairfoir, young wyfis speciallie,
Of all sic faultis hald yow frie,
And moderatly to leif now leir[1131]
In meit, and clayth[1132] accordinglie;
And nocht sa vainlie waist your geir.
Use not to skift athort the gait[1133],
Nor na mum chairtis, air nor lait[1134];
Be na dainser, nor this daingeir
Of yow be tane an ill consait
That ye ar habill[1135] to waist geir.
Hant[1136] ay in honest cumpanie,
And all suspicious places flie;
Lat never harlot cum yow neir,
That wald yow leid to leicherie,
In houp to get thairfoir sum geir.
My counsall I geve generallie
To all wemen, quhat-evir thay be,
This lesson for to quin per queir[1137],
Syne keip it weill continuallie
Better nor onye warldlie geir.
Leif[1138], burgess men, or all be loist,
On your wyfis to mak sic cost,
Quhilk may gar all your bairnis bleir[1139]:
Scho that may not want wyne and roist
Is abill for to waist sum geir.
Betwene thame and nobillis of blude
Na difference bot ane velvous huid!
Thair camroche curcheis[1140] ar als deir;
Thair uther claythis ar als guid;
And thai als costlie in uther geir.
Bot, wald grit ladyis tak gud heid
To thair honour, and find remeid,
Thai suld thole[1141] na sic wyfis to weir,
Lyk lordis wyfis, ladyis weid,
As dames of honour in thair geir.
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[1142] ladyis ar als vain,
As be thair cleithing may appeir;
Werand[1143] gayer nor thame may gain--
On ouir[1144] vaine claythis waistand geir.
[1108] wondrous.
[1109] know.
[1110] spend.
[1111] novelty.
[1112] to add to.
[1113] marvel.
[1114] many.
[1115] “Of finest 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 presented some
likeness.
[1116] hanging.
[1117] jelly bags.
[1118] Their under-petticoats must.
[1119] Broidered.
[1120] sewed with stripes of lace or silk.
[1121] enquire.
[1122] Barred above with drawn head-pieces. _O. Fr._ teste, tête.
[1123] necklaces and throat beads.
[1124] set high.
[1125] young person. Perhaps Dutch _jonker_.
[1126] sandals anciently worn by persons of rank.
[1127] lament.
[1128] doing what is becoming.
[1129] Be assured.
[1130] many a parcel, fortune.
[1131] learn.
[1132] clothe.
[1133] to glide across the street.
[1134] no mumming cards (playing cards with figures) early or late.
[1135] able.
[1136] Frequent.
[1137] to con by heart.
[1138] Leave off.
[1139] aspersion.
[1140] cambric kerchiefs.
[1141] suffer.
[1142] country.
[1143] Wearing.
[1144] over.
NA KYNDNES AT COURT WITHOUT SILLER.
Sumtyme to court I did repair,
Thairin sum errandis for to dress[1145],
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.
To ane grit court-man I did speir[1146],
That I trowit my friend had bene
Becaus we war of kyn sa neir;
To him my mater I did mene[1147];
Bot, with disdene,
He fled as I had done him tene[1148],
And wald nocht byd my taill to heir.
I wend[1149] 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[1150] to him socht[1151]
It wes the wrang way that I geid[1152].
My hand I put into my sleif,
And furthe of it ane purs I drew,
And said I brocht it him to geif[1153].
Bayth gold and silver I him schew;
Than he did rew
That he unkindlie me misknew;
And hint[1154] the purs fest in his neif.[1155]
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 faythfull friend sould be
In courte as I pleis him command.
For quhilk, better it is, I trow;
Into the courte to get supplé[1156],
To have ane purs of fyne gold fow[1157],
Nor to the hiest of degre
Of kyn to be.
Sa alteris our nobilitie:
Grit kynrent[1158] helpis lytill now.
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 sald[1159];
Neirnes of kyn na-thing thai rak[1160].
[1145] attend to.
[1146] inquire.
[1147] complain.
[1148] made him angry.
[1149] deemed.
[1150] kinship.
[1151] made my way.
[1152] went.
[1153] give.
[1154] seized.
[1155] fist.
[1156] help.
[1157] full.
[1158] kindred.
[1159] bought and sold.
[1160] reck.
ON THE FOLYE OF ANE AULD MANIS MARYAND ANE YOUNG WOMAN.
Amang all folleis 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 raige,
Thinkand that he may serve hir appetyte;
Quhilk and he faill than[1161] will scho him dispyte.
Still ageit men sould jois[1162] 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 tarye[1163];
For fresche Maii and cauld Januarij
Agreeis nocht upon ane sang in tune,
The tribbill wantis that sould be sang abune[1164].
Men sould tak voyage at the larkis sang,
And nocht at evin quhen passit is the day.
Efter mid-age the luifar[1165] lyes full lang,
Quhen that his hair is turnit lyart[1166] 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.
Till haive bene merchand bygaine monie ane yeir
In Antwerp, Burges, and in town of Berrie,
Syne in-to Deip for to tyne[1167] all his geir
With vane conseat to puir[1168] himselffe, and herrie[1169].
Grit perell is for to pas our the ferrie
In-to ane laikand boit[1170] nocht naillit fast,
To beir the saill nocht havand ane steife mast.
To tak ane mellein[1171] that grit lawbour requyris,
Syne wantis grayth[1172] for to manure the land;
Quhair seid wantis then men of teilling tyris;
Than cumis ane, findis it waist lyand,
Yokis his pleuch, teilleis[1173] at his awin hand.
Better had bene the first had never kend it[1174]
Nor thoill[1175] that schame. And sa my tale is endit.
[1161] Of which if he fail then.
[1162] joy.
[1163] vexation.
[1164] above.
[1165] lover.
[1166] partly, _lit._ greyish.
[1167] lose.
[1168] impoverish.
[1169] harry, ruin.
[1170] leaking boat.
[1171] farm.
[1172] substance.
[1173] tills.
[1174] known it.
[1175] suffer.
AGANIS THE THEIVIS OF LIDDISDAILL.
Of Liddisdaill the commoun theifis
Sa pertlie[1176] steillis now and reiffis[1177],
That nane may keip
Hors, nolt, nor scheip,
Nor yit dar sleip
For thair mischeifis.
Thay plainlie throw the countrie rydis;
I trow the meikill[1178] devill thame gydis:
Quhair thay onsett
Ay in thair gait[1179]
Thair is na yett[1180]
Nor dure thame bydis[1181].
Thay leif richt nocht[1182]; 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.
Thay theifis have neirhand herreit haill[1183]
Ettrick forest and Lauderdaill;
Now ar they gane
In Lothiane,
And spairis nane
That thay will waill[1184].
Thai landis ar with stouth sa socht[1185]
To extreme povertie ar brocht;
Thai wicked schrowis[1186]
Has laid[1187] the plowis,
That nane or few is
That are left ocht[1188].
Bot commoun taking of blak-maill,[1189]
Thay that had flesche and breid and aill
Now ar sa wraikit[1190],
Maid puir and naikit,
Fane to be staikit[1191]
With watter-caill[1192].
Thai theifis that steillis and tursis[1193] hame,
Ilk ane of thame hes ane to-name--
Will of the Lawis,
Hab of the Schawis.
To mak bair wawis[1194]
Thay think na schame.
Thay spuilye[1195] puir men of thair pakis[1196];
Thay leif thame nocht, on bed nor bakis;
Bayth hen and cok,
With reill and rok[1197],
The Landis Jok
All with him takis.
Thay leif not spendill, spoone, nor speit,
Bed, bowster, blanket, sark, nor scheit;
Johne of the Parke
Rypis kist[1198] 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
Our gude ane gyide[1199].
Thair is ane, callit Clements Hob,
Fra ilk puir wyfe reiffis hir wob[1200],
And all the laif[1201],
Quhatever thay haif:
The deuil resave
Thairfoir his gob[1202]!
To sic grit stouth quha-eir wald trow it
But gif sum greit man it allowit?
Rycht sair I rew,
Thocht it be trew,
Thair is sa few
That dar avow it.
Of sum grit men they have sic gait[1203]
That redy ar thame to debait[1204],
And will up weir[1205]
Thair stolin geir,
That nane dar steir[1206]
Thame, air nor lait.
Quhat causis theifis us our-gang[1207]
Bot want of justice us amang?
Nane takis cair
Thocht all forfair[1208]:
Na man will spair
Now to do wrang.
Of stouth thocht now thay cum gud speid
That nather of men nor God hes dreid,
Yit, or I die,
Sum sall thame sie
Hing on a trie
Quhill[1209] thay be deid.
[1176] boldly.
[1177] rob.
[1178] great.
[1179] path.