Works, Poem 4
The tragedie of the Vmquhyle maiſt Reuerend Father Dauid be the Mercy of God, Cardinall, and Archebiſchop of Sanctandr…is. &c. Compylit be Schir Dauid Lyndeſay of the mont Knicht, Alias, Lyoun, King of Armes.
Mortales Cum Natiſitis, ne ſupra
Deum Vos Erexeritis.
☞THE PROLOG.
NOCHT Lang ago efter the hour of prime.
Secreitly ſitting in myne Oratorie.
I tuke ane Buke till occupie the tyme,
Quhare I fand mony Tragedie and ſtorie,
Quhilk Ihone Boccace, had put in memorie.
Quhow mony Princis, Conquerourꝭ ād Kingis
War dulefullie depoſit, frome thare ringis.
Quhow Alexander, the potent Conquerour
In Babilon was poyſonit pieteouſlie.
And Iulius, the michtie Emperour
Murdreiſt at Rome, cauſles and cruellie.
Prudent Pompey, in Egypt ſchamefullie,
He murdreiſt was, quhat nedith proces more?
Quhoſe Tragedyis, war pietie till deplore.
¶ I ſitting ſo, vponupon my Buke reding,
Rycht ſuddantlie, a fore me did appeir
Ane woundit man, aboundantlie bleiding,
With viſage paill, and with ane deidlie their.
Semand ane man of two and fiftie ȝeit,
In Rayment reid, clothit full curiouſlie,
Of weluoit and of Satyn Crammoſie.
With febill voce, as man oppreſt with pane,
Softlie he maid me ſupplicatioun.
Sayand, my freind, go reid, and reid agane,
Geue thow can find, be trew Narratioun
Of ony pane lyke to my paſſioun.
Richt ſure I an… at Ihone Boceace on lyue,
My Tragedie at lenth he wald deſcryue.
Sen he is gone, I pray the tyll indyte
Of my Infortune ſum Remembrance.
Or at the leiſt, my Tragedie to wryt,
As I to the ſall ſchaw the Circumſtance,
In termis breue of my vnhappy chance,
Sen my beginnyng, tyll my fatall end.
Quhilk I wald till all creature wer kend.
¶ I not ſaid I, mak ſic memoriall
But of thy name I had Intelligence.
I am Dauid, that cairfull Cardinall
Quhilk doith appeir (ſaid he) to thy preſence.
That vmquhyle had ſo greit preeminence.
Than he began, his deidis tyll indyte
As ȝe ſall heir, and I began to wryte.
❧ I Dauid Betoun Vmquhyle Cardinall,
Of nobill blude, be lyne I did diſcend,
During my tyme I had no peregall.
Bot now is cum, allace my fatall end.
Ay gre, be gre vpwart I did aſcend
Swa that in to this realme did neuer ring
So greit one man as I, vnderunder ane king
Quhen I was ane ȝoung Ioly gentill man,
Princis to ſerue, I ſet my hole intent.
Firſt tyll aſcend, at Arbroith I began
Ane Abbacie, of greit riches and rent.
Of that eſtait, ȝit was I nocht content,
To get more ryches, dignite, and glore,
My hart was ſet, allace, allace, tharefore.
I maid ſic ſeruice tyll our Souerane king,
He did Promoue me tyll more hie eſtate.
One Prince abufe al preiſtis for til ring,
Archebiſchop of Sanctandrois conſecrate.
Tyll that honour quhen I was Eleuate,
My prydefull hart was nocht content at all,
Tyll that I create wes ane Cardinall.
Ȝit preiſſit I tyll hauehave more authorite.
And finallie, was choſin Chancellair.
And for vphalding of my dignite,
Was maid Legate than had I no compair.
I purcheſt for my proffect ſingulair,
My Boris, and my Threſure tyll auance.
The Biſchoprik of Mecepois in France.
Of all Scotland, I had the Gouernall,
But my a wyfe concludit wes no thing
Abbot, Biſchop, Archebiſchop, Cardinall,
In to this Realme no hieat culd I ting,
Bot I had bene Pape, Empriour, or King.
For ſchortnes of the tyme, I am nocht abill
At lenth to ſchaw, my actis honorabill.
¶For my moſt Princelie Prodigalite,
Amang Prelatis in France I bure the pryſe.
I ſchew my Lordlie Liberalite,
In Banketting, playing, at cartis and Dyſe.
In to ſic wyſedome, I was haldin wyſe.
And ſparit nocht to play with king, nor knicht
Thre thouſand crownis of gold vponupon ane nicht.
In France, I maid ſeir honeſt Voyagis,
Quhare I did Actis digne of Remembrance.
Throuch me war maid Tryūphant Mariagis,
Tyll our Souerane boith proffet and pleſance.
Quene Magdalene, the firſt Dochter of France,
With greit ryches was in to Scotland brocht.
That mariage throch my wiſedom it was wrocht
Efter quhoſe deith, in France I paſt agane,
The ſecunde Quene, homewart I did conuoy.
That luſtie Princes, Marie de Lorane,
Quhilk wes reſauit with greit triumphe & Ioy.
So ſeruit I our richt Redoutit Roy.
Sone efter that, Harie of Ingland king
Of our Souerane, deſirit ane commoning.
Of that meting, our king wes weill content,
So that in Ȝork, was ſet boith tyme and place.
Bot our Prelatis, nor I, wald neuer conſent,
That he ſuld ſe, King Harie in the face,
Bot we wer weill content, quhowbeit his grace
Had ſaillit the ſey, to ſpeik with ony vther,
Except yat king, quhilk was his mother brother.
Quhait throch yar roſe, greit weir & mortal ſtryfe
Greit heirſchipꝭ, hunger, derth, and deſolatioun.
On ather ſyde, did mony loſe thare lyfe,
Geue I wald mak ane trew Narratioun,
I cauſit all that tribulatioun.
For tyll tak peace, I neuer wald conſent,
With our the king of france had bene content.
Duryng this weir, wartaking preſoneiris,
Of nobyll men, fechting full furiouſlie
Mony one Lord, Barroun, and Bacheleiris,
Quhar throuch our king tuk ſic melancholie,
Quhilk draue hym to the deid richt dulcfullie.
Extreme Dolour ouirſet did ſo his hart,
That frome this lyfe, allace, he did depart.
Bot efter that boith ſtrenth & ſpeiche wes leiſit,
Ane paper blank, his grace I gart ſubſcryue,
In to the quhilk, I wrait all that I pleiſit,
Efter his deith, quhilk lang war tyll deſcryue
Throuch that writting, I purpoſit belyue,
With ſupport of ſum Lordis beneuolence,
In this Regioun till hauehave Preeminence.
As for my Lord, our richteous Gouernour,
Geue I wald ſchortlie ſchaw the veritie,
Till hym I had no maner of fauour,
During that tyme, I purpoſit that he
Suld neuer cum to none Auctorite.
For his ſupport tharefor he brocht amang vsus,
Furth of Ingland, the nobyll Erle of Angus.
Than was I put abak frome my purpoſe,
And ſuddandlie caſt in Captiuite,
My prydefull hatt to dant, as I ſuppoſe
Deuyſit be the hich Diuinite.
Ȝit in my hart, ſprang no humylite,
Bot now the word of God full weill I knaw,
Quho dois exalt hym ſelf, God ſall hym law.
In the meine tyme, quhen I was ſo ſubiectit,
Ambaſſadouris war ſent in to Ingland.
Quhare thay boith peice, and mariage cōtractit.
And more ſurelie, for tyll obſerue that band,
War promiſt diuers plegis of Scotland.
Of that contract, I wes no way content,
Nor neuer wald thare to geue my conſent.
Tyll Capitanis, that keipit me in waird,
Giftis of gold, I gaue thame greit plente
Rewlatis of court, I richelie did reward,
Quhare throuch I chaipit frome Captiuite.
Bot quhen I was fre, at my liberte,
Than lyke ane Lyon, lowſit of his Cage.
Out throuch this realme, I gan to reil and rage.
Contrar the Gouernour, and his companie,
Oft tymes maid I inſurrectioun.
Purpoſing for till hauehave hym haiſtelie.
Subdewit vntounto my correctioun.
Or put hym tyll extreme ſubiectioun.
Duryng this tyme, geue it war weill decydit,
This realme be me was vtterlie deuydit.
The Gouernour purpoſing to ſubdew,
I raſit ane oiſt of mony bald Barroun,
And maid ane raid, quhilk Lithgow ȝit may rew,
For we deſtroyit ane myle about the town.
For that I gat mony blak maliſoun.
Ȝit contrair the Gouernouris intent.
With our ȝōng Princes, we to Striuiling went.
For hich contemptioun of the Gouernour,
I brocht the Erle of Lennox, furth of France.
That luſtie Lord, leuand in greit pleſour,
Did loſe that land and honeſt Ordinance.
Bot he and I, fell ſone at variance.
And throch my counſall, was within ſchort ſpace,
For faltit and flemit, he gat none vther grace.
Than throuch my prudence, practik and ingyne,
Our Gouernour I cauſit to conſent
Full quyetlie, to my counſall inclyne.
Quhare of his Nobilis, war nocht weil content.
For quhy, I gurt diſſolue in plane Parliament,
The band of peite, contractit with Ingland.
Quharthroch c…e harme, & heirſchip to ſcotlād.
That pece brokin, arois new mortall weiris,
Be ſey, and land, ſic reif, without releif,
Quhilk to report, my frayit hart effeiris,
The verite to ſchaw in termis breif,
I was the rute, of all that greit miſcheif.
The ſouth countre may ſay, it had bene gude,
That my Nurice, had ſmorit me in my cude.
I wes the cauſe of mekle more miſchance
For vphald, of my glore, and dignite,
And pleſour of the potent King of france,
With Ingland wald I hauehave no vnite,
Bot quho conſidder wald the verite,
We micht full weill hauehave leuit in peice and reſt,
Nyne or ten ȝeitis, and than playit louſe or faſt.
Had we with Ingland keipit our contrackis,
Our nobyll men, had leuit in peice and reſt.
Our Merchādis had nocht loſt ſo mony packis,
Our commoun peple had nocht bene oppreſt.
On ather ſyde, all wrangis had bene redreſt.
Bot Edinburgh ſen ſyne, Leith and Kingorne,
The day, and hour, may ban that I was borne,
Our Gouernour, to mak hym to me ſure,
With ſweit, and ſubtell wordis, I did hym ſyle,
Tyll I his Sone, and Air, gat in my cure.
To that effect I fand that crafty wyle,
That he no maner of way …ycht me begyle
Than leuch I quhen his liegis did allege,
How I his Sone had gottin in to plege.
The Erle of Angus, and his Germane brother.
I purpoſit, to gar thame loſe thare lyfe.
Rycht ſo tyll hauehave deſtroyit mony vthtr,
Sum with the fyre, ſū with the ſword and knyfe.
In ſpeciall, mony gentyll men of fyfe.
And purpoſit tyll put to greit Torment
All fauoreris of the auld, and new Teſtament.
Than eueryevery man, thay tuke of me ſic feir,
That tyme, quhen I had ſo greit gouernance.
Greit Lordis dreiding, I ſuld do thame deir,
Thay durſt nocht cum tyll court but aſſurance
Sen ſyne thair hes nocht bene ſic variance.
Now tyll our Prince Barronis obedientlie,
But aſſurance, thay cum full courteſlie.
My hope was moſt in to the king of France,
To gidder with the Popis holynes.
More than in God, my worſchip tyll auance.
I traiſtit ſo in to thare gentilnes,
That no man durſt preſume me tyll oppres.
Bot quhen the day come of my fatall hour,
Far was frome me, thare ſupport and ſuccour.
Than to preſerue my ryches, and my lyfe,
I maid one ſtrenth of wallis hich and braid.
Sic ane Fortres wes neuer found in fyfe.
Beleuand thare, durſt no man me inuaid.
Now fynd I trew the ſaw quhilk Dauid ſaid:
Without God of ane hous be maiſter of wark,
He wirkis in vane, thocht it be neuer ſo ſtark.
For I was throuch the hi… power Deuine,
Rycht dulefullie doung doun amang the as,
Quhilk culd not be throch mortal mānis ingyne,
Bot as Dauid did ſlay the greit Golias,
Or Holopherne, be Iudith keillit was
In myd amang his triumphant Armie,
So was I ſlane in to my cheif Ciete.
Quhen I had greiteſt Dominatioun,
As Lucifer had in the heuin Empyre,
Came ſuddandlie my Depriuatioun.
Be thame quhilk did my dolent deith conſpyre.
So cruell was thare furious birnand Ire,
I gat no tyme, layſer, nor liberte
To ſay, ☞ In Manus tuas Domine.
☞BEhald my Fatall Infelicite,
I beand in my ſtrenth, Incomparabill,
That dreidfull Dungeoun maid me no ſupple,
My greit ryches, nor tentis proffitabill,
My Syluer work, Iowellis ineſtimabill,
My Papall pompe, of gold my ryche threſour,
My lyfe and all, I loſt in half ane hour.
To the peple wes maid ane Spectakle,
Of my deid, and deformit Carioun.
Sum ſaid it was ane manifeſt Myrakle.
Sum ſaid it was Diuine Punitioun
So to be ſlane, in to my ſtrang Doungeoun.
Quhen eueryevery man had Iugit as hym liſt,
Thay Saltit me, ſyne cloſit me in ane kiſt.
I lay vnburyit ſewin monethis and more,
Or I was borne, to cloſter, kirk, or queir,
In ane midding, quhilk pane bene tyll deplore,
Without ſuffrage, of Chanoun, Monk, or freir.
All proude Prelatis at me may Leſſonis leir,
Quhilk rang ſo lang, and ſo triumphantlie,
Syne in the duct doung doun ſo dulefullie.
☞TO THE PRELATIS.
O ȝe My Brether Princis of the Preiſtis,
I mak ȝow hartly Supplicatioun,
Boith nyckt and day reuolue in to ȝour breiſtis
The Proces of my Depriuatioun.
Conſidder quhat bene ȝour Vocatioun.
To follow me, I pray ȝow nocht pretend ȝow,
Bot reid at lenth, this Cedull that I ſend ȝow.
Ȝe knaw quhow Ieſus his Diſcipulis ſent,
Ambaſſadouris till eueryevery Natioun,
To ſchaw his law, and his commandement
To all peple, by Predicatioun.
Tharefor, I mak to ȝow Narratioun,
Sen ȝe to thame ar verray Succeſſouris,
Ȝe aucht tyll do as did ȝour Predeceſſouris.
Quhow dar ȝe be ſo bauld tyll tak on hand,
For to be Herraldis to ſo greit ane King,
To beir his Meſſage, boith to burgh and land,
Ȝe beand dum, and can pronunce no thing.
Lyke Menſtralis, that can nocht play nor ſing.
Or quhy ſuld men geue to ſic Hirdis hyre,
Quhilk can not gyde thare ſcheip about ye myre.
Eſchame ȝe nocht to be Chriſtis ſeruitouris,
And for ȝour fee, hes greit temporall landis?
Syne of ȝour office, can nocht tak the curis,
As Cannone Law, & Scripture ȝow cōmandis.
Ȝe wyll nocht want, teind ſcheif, nor offerandis,
Teynd woll, teind lamb, teind Calf, teind gryce and guſe,
To mak ſeruice ȝe ar al out of vſe.
My deir brether do nocht as ȝe war wount,
Amend ȝour lyfe now, quhill ȝour day Induris.
Traiſt weill ȝe ſall, be callit to ȝour count
Of euerilk thyng, belanging to ȝour curis.
Leif haſartrie, ȝour harlottie, and huris,
Remembring on my vnprouiſit deid.
For efter deith, may no man mak remeid.
Ȝe Prelatꝭ quhilkꝭ hes thouſandis for to ſpend,
Ȝe ſend ane ſempyll freir, for ȝow to preiche,
It is ȝour craft, I mak it to ȝow kend.
Ȝour ſelfis, in ȝour Templis for to preiche,
Bot ferlie nocht, thocht ſyllie freiris fleiche,
For and thay planelie, ſchaw the verite,
Than wyll thay want the Biſchopis cherite.
Quharefor bene gewin ȝow ſic Royall rent?
Bot for tyll fynd the peple Spirituall fude,
Preichand to thame, the auld & new Teſtament,
The law of God, doith planelie ſo conclude,
Put nocht ȝour hope in to no warldlie gude,
As I hauehave done, behauld my greit threſour,
Maid me no help at my vnhappie hour.
That day quhen I was Biſchop conſecrait,
The greit Byble, wes bound vponupon my bak.
Quhat wes tharein, lytle I knew God wait,
More than ane beiſt, berand ane precious pak.
Bot haiſtelie, my conuenant I brak
For I wes obliſſit with my awin conſent.
The law of God to preiche with gude intent.
¶Brether richt ſo quhen ȝe wer conſecrait
Ȝe obliſſit ȝow all on the ſamyn wyſe
Ȝe may be callit Biſchoppis countrefait,
As Gallandis buſkit for to mak ane gyſe.
Now think I Prineis, ar no thing to pryſe,
Tyll geue ane famous office tyll ane fule,
As quho wald put ane Myter on ane Mule.
Allace, and ȝe that ſorrowfull ſicht had ſene,
Quhow I lay bullerand, bathit in my blude,
To mend ȝour lyfe, it had occaſioun bene
And leif ȝour auld, corruptit conſwetude.
Failȝeing thare of, than ſchortlie I conclude,
Without ȝe frome ȝour ribaldrie aryſe,
Ȝe ſall be ſeruit, on the ſamyn wyſe.
❧TO THE PRINCIS.
¶Imprudent Princis but diſcretioun
Hauyng in eirth power Imperiall,
Ȝe bene the cauſe of this Tranſgreſſioun.
I ſpeik to ȝow all in to generall,
Quhilk doith diſpone all office ſpirituall,
Geuand the ſaulis, quhilkꝭ bene Chriſtis ſcheip,
To blind Paſtouris but conſcience to keip.
Quhen ȝe Princis doith laik ane officiar,
Ane Baxter, Browſter, or ane maiſter Cuke,
Ane trym Tailȝeour, ane cunnyng Cordynar,
Ouir all the land, at lenth ȝe wyll gar luke,
Moſt abill men, ſic officis tyll bruke.
Ane Browſter, quhilk can brew moſt hoilſū aill,
Ane cūnyng Cuke, quhilk beſt can ſeſſoun caill.
Ane Tailȝeour quhilk hes foſterit bene in frāce,
That can mak garmentis on the gayeſt gyſe.
Ȝe Princis bene the cauſe of this miſchance,
That quhen thare doith vaik ony benefyſe,
Ȝe aucht tyll do vponupon the ſamyn wyſe.
Ga…ſerche, and ſeik, baith in to burgh and land,
The law of God quho beſt can vnderſtand.
Mak hym Biſchop that prudentlie can preiche,
A… dois pertene tyll his vocatioun.
Ane …ione, quhilk his Pariſchoun can teiche.
Ga… V…caris mak dew Miniſtratioun.
And als I mak ȝow ſupplicatioun,
Mak ȝour Abbottis of richt Religious men,
Quhilk to the peple Chriſtis law can ken.
Bot not to rebaldis, new cum frome the roſt.
Nor of ane ſtuffat, ſtollin out of ane ſtabill,
The quhilk in to the ſcule maid neuer na coſt,
Nor neuer was tyll Spirituall ſcience abill,
Except the cartis, the dyce, the ches, and tabill,
Of Rome raikeris, nor of rude Ruffianis,
Of calſay Paikeris, nor of Publicanis.
Nor of Fantaſtike▪ fenȝeit flatteraris,
Moſt meit to gather muſſillis in to May.
Of Cowhubeis, nor ȝit of clatteraris,
That in the kirk, can nother ſing nor ſay
Thocht thay be clokit vp i… Clerkis array,
Lyke doitit Doctoris new cum out of Athenis.
And mūmyll ouer ane pair of maig…t matenis.
Nocht qualifyit, to bruke ane Benefyis,
Bot throuch ſchir Symonis ſoliſtatioun.
I was promouit on the ſamyn wyis,
Allace throuch Princis ſupplicatioun.
And maid at Rome throuch fals Narratioun,
Biſchop, Abbot, bot no Religious man.
Quho me promouit, I now thare banis …
Quhowbeit I was Legate, and Cardinall,
Lytle I knew, tharein quhat ſuld be done
I vnderſtude no ſcience ſpirituall,
No more than did blind Alane of the mone.
I dreid the king that ſittith hich aboue,
On ȝow Princis ſall mak ſore puniſchement,
Rycht ſo on vsus throuch richteous Iugement.
On ȝow Princis for vndiſcreit geuing,
Tyll Ignorantis, ſic officis tyll vſe.
And we, for our Inoportune aſking,
Quhilk ſuld hauehave done ſic dignite refuſe.
Our Ignorance, hes done the warld abuſe
Throuch Couetice of riches, and of rent.
That euer I was ane Prelate I repent.
O Kingis mak ȝe no cair to geue in cure,
Virginis profeſt in to Religioun,
In tyll the keiping of ane commoun hure?
To mak think ȝe nocht greit deriſioun,
Ane woman Perſone of ane Pariſoun?
Quhare thare bene two thouſand ſaulis to gyde,
That frome harlottis can not hir hippis hyde.
Quhat and king Dauid leuit in thir dayis,
Or out of heuin quhat and he lukit down,
The quhilk did found ſo mony fair Abbayis?
Seand the greit Abhominatioun
In mony abbayis, of this Natioun,
He wald repent that Narrowit ſo his boundis,
Of ȝeirly rent, thre ſcore of thouſand poundis.
Quharfore I counſall euerilk Chriſtiane king,
Within his realme mak Reformatioun
And ſuffer no mo Rebaldis, for to ring,
Abufe Chriſtis trew Congregatioun.
Failȝeing thareof I mak Narratioun,
That ȝe Princis, and Prelatis all at onis,
Sall bureit be in hell, Saule, blude, and bonis.
¶That euer I brukit Benefice I rew,
Or to ſic hicht ſo proudely did pretend.
I man depart, tharefor my freindis adew,
Quhare euer it pleſith God, now man I wend.
I pray the till my freindis me Recommend,
And failȝe nocht at lenth, to put in wryte
My Tragedie, as I hauehave done Indyte.
FINIS.