The Complaint and Testament of a Popinjay, Epistolary poems
¶Here begynnes the first Epistell of the papingo derect tyll hyr souerane lord king Iames the fift.
PRepotent prince pereles of pulchritude
Glorie / honour / laude / triumphe / and victory
Be to thy hie excellent celsitude
With merciall dedis digne of memory
Seyng Atropos consumed has my glory
And dolent deth alas muste vsus depart
I bequeth to the my true vnfayned hart
To gidder with this cedull subsequent
…ith most reuerend recommendacyon
I grant thy grace gettis many a document
Be famouse faders predication
With many notable narracyon
Be pleasand poetis in stile heroycall
How thou sholde guyde thy seat imperiall.
Some doth deplore the great calamities
Of diuers realmes transmutation
Some petiusly doth trete of tragedies
All for thy graces informacyon
So I intende without adulacyon
In my barbarous rusticall indite
Among others syr, somthynge for to write
Souerayne conceyue this syple similitude
Of officeres seruing thy segnory
…ho guydes them well gettis of thy grace great gud
…ho bene iniust degraded ar of glory
And cauncelled out of thy memory
Prouiding syne more pleasand in theyr place
Beleue, ryght so shall god do with thy grace
Considering well thou bene but officiare
And va…ell to that kynge incomparable
haest the to please that puissant prynce preclare
Thy ryche rewarde shall be inestimable
Exalted hye in glory vnterminable
Aboue archangels vertus and potestates
Pleasantly placid among the principates.
Of thy vertue poetes perpetually
Shall make mencyon vntounto the worlde be ended
So thou exercyse thy office prudently
In heuen and erth thy grace shall be commended
Wherfore beware that he be not offended
Whilk has exalted the to sik honour
Of this people to be a gouernour.
And in the erth hath made sik ordinance
Under thy fete all thing terrestriall
Are subiect to thy pleasure and pastance
Bothe foule and fishe and bestes pastorall
Men to thy seruice and wemen they bene thrall
Hawkyng / huntyng / iustyng / and laufull amour
Preordinate ar by god for thy pleasour.
Maysters of musik to recreate thy sprete
With dauted voyce and pleasant instrument
Thus may thou be of all pleasure replete
So that in thy office thou be diligent
But be thou founde sleuthfull or necligent
Or els iniust in thyne execution
Thou shalt not fayle deuyne punycyon.
Wherfore seyng thou has sik capacite
To lerne to play so pleasantly and sing
Ryde horses / ryue speres with great audacite
Shote with handbow crossebow and culuering
Among the rest, syr, lerne to be a kyng
Proue on that craft thy pregnant freshe ingine
Graunted to the by influence deuyne
And seyng the diffinicion of a kyng
Is for to hauehave of people gouernaunce
Adresse the, first aboue all other thyng
To put thy body to suche ordinaunce
That thy vertue thyne honour may auaunce
For how shulde pryncis gouerne great regions
That can not onelyonly guyde theyr owne persons.
And thy grace wolde lyue ryght pleasantly
Call thy counsell and cast on them the cure
Theyr iust decretis defend and fortefy
Without good counsell may no prince longe indure
Wyrke with counsell then shall thy werke be sure
Chose thy counsell of the most sapient
Without regarde to blode, ryches or rent
Among all other pastyme and pleasure
Nowe in thy adolescent yeres yenge
Wolde thou eueryevery day study but half an houre
The regiment of princely gouernynge
To thy people it were a pleasaunt thynge
Theyr myght thou fynd thy owne vocation
How thou sholde vse thy scepture swerd and crown.
The cronicles to know I the exhort
Whiche may be myrrour to thy maieste
There shalte thou fynd bothe good and euyll report
Of eueryevery prince after his qualite
Thoughe they bene deed theyr dedes shall not dye
Trust will thou shalte be styled in that storye
As thou deseruest put in memorye.
Request that roy whiche rent was on the roode
The to defend frome dedes of defame
That no poete report of the but good
For princes dayes endures but a dreame
Seyng fyrst kyng Fergus bare a diadeame
Thou arte the last kynge of fiue score and fiue
And all ar deed and none but thou on lyue.
Of whose nombre fyftye and fyue bene slayne
And most parte in theyr owne mysgouernaunce
Wherfore I the beseche my souerayne
Consyder of theyr lyues the circumstaunce
And when thou knowest the cause of theyr myschaunce
Of vertue than exalte the sayles on hye
Trustynge to scape that fatall destenye
Entreate eueryevery true baron as he were thy brother
Whiche mon at nede the and thy realme defende
When sodeynly one dothe oppresse an other
Let iustice myxed with mercy them amende
HaueHave thou theyr hertes, thou hast ynough to spende
And by the contrary, thou art but kyng of bone
From tyme thyne heres hettes be from the gone.
I hauehave no leysure for to wryte at length
My hole entent vntounto thyne excellence
Decreassed so I am in wyt and strenth
My mortall wound doth me such violence
People of me may hauehave experience
Bycause alas I was incounsolable
Now mou I dye a caytyue miserable.
¶Here begynneth the seconde epistle of the Papingo, dyrecte to her brether of the Court.
BRether of court with mynde precordiall
To the great god hertely I commende you
Imprent my fall in your memoryall
Togyther with this cedull that I sende you
To preysse ouer hye I pray you not pretend you
The vayne ascence of court who wyll consydder
Who syttes most hye, shall fynde the seat most slydder
So ye that now bene lansing vp the ledder
Take tent in tyme holding your fyngers fast
Who clymmeth most hye, most dynt hath of the wedder
And leest defence agaynst the bytter blast
Of fals fortune whylke takes neuer rest
But most redoubted dayly she downe thrynges
Not sparing papes, emperours, nor kynges.
Though ye bene mounted vp aboue the skyes
And hath both kynge and court in gouernaunce
Some was as hye whylk now ryght low lyes
Complaning sore the courtes variaunce
Theyr preterit tyme may be experience
Whylk through vayne hope of court dyd clyme so hye
Syne wanted whingis when they wend best to flye
Seyng ylk court bene vntrust and transitorye
Chaungyng as oft as wether cocke in wynde
Some makynge glad and other som ryght sorye
Formest this day the morne may go behynde
Let not vayne hope of court your reason blynde
Trust well some men wyll gyue you lande as lordes
Whylkes wolde be glad to se you hang in cordes
I durst declare the miserabilite
Of dyuers courtes were not my tyme to shorte
The dredfull chaunge vaynglory and vilite
The paynefull pleasures as poetes doth report
Somtyme in hope somtyme in disconfort
And how som men doth spend theyr youthed all
In court, syne, endeth in the hospitall.
How som in court bene quiete counsalours
Without regarde to commen welth or kynges
Castynge theyr cure for to be conquerours
And when they bene hye raysed in theyr rynges
How chaunge of court them dolefully downe thrynges
And when they bene frome theyr estate deposed
How many of theyr fall bene ryght well resioysed
And how fonde fayned fules and flatterars
For small seruice opteyneth great rewardes
Pandars pikthankes custrouns and clatterars
Loupes vp frome laddes, syne lyghtes among lordes
Blasphematours braggars and common bardes
Somtyme in court hath more auctorite
Than well lerned doctours in diuinite.
How in some court be barnes of Beliall
Full of dissimuled paynted flattery
Prouokynge by intoxicate counsall
Princes to hooredome and tyll hasardry
Who dothe in prynces prent syk harlotry
I say for me suche pert prouocatours
Sholde punissed be aboue all stronge traytours.
What trauars, trouble, and calamite
Hath ben in court within this hundreth yeares
What mortall chaunges, what myserite
What noble men be brought vponupon theyr beares
Trust well my frendes folow ye mon your feares
So seynge in court is no tranquilite
Set not on it your hole felicite
The court chaungeth somtyme with sik outrage
That fewe or none may make resistence
And spareth not the prynce more than the page
As well appereth by experyence
The duke of Rosey myght make no defence
Whylke was pertenand roy of this region
But dulefully deuored in pryson
What drede, what dolour, had that noble kynge
Robert the thyrde from tyme he knewe the case
Of his two sonnes the dolent departynge
Prynce Dauid deed, and Iames capityue alas
Tyll true scottes men, whylk was a carefull case
Thus may ye knowe the court bene varyand
When bloode ryall the chaunge myght not gaynstand.
Who clam in court more hye and tryumphand
Nor duke Murdok, whyle that his dayes endured
Was he not great protectour of Scotland
Yet of the court he was not well assured
It chaunged so his lange seruyce was smured
He and his sone fayre walter without remeed
Forfalted were, and put to dulefull deed
Kynge Iames the fyrst, patrone of prudence
Gem of angyne, and perle of polecy
Well of iustyce, and floode of eloquence
Whose vertue doth transcende my fantasy
For to discryue yet when he stode most hye
By false exhorbitant conspyracyoun
That prudent prynce was pituously put doun
Als Iames the seconde, roy of great renoun
Beynge in his super excellent glore
Through rerheleffe shotyng of one great cannoun
The dolent deth alas dyd hym deuore
One thynge there is, of whylk I meruayle more
That fortune had at hym syk mortall feed
Through fyfty thousande to wale hym by the heed
My hert is persed with paynes for to paunce
Or wryte that courtes variacyon
Of Iames the thyrde when he had gouernaunce
The dolour, drede, and desolacyon
The chaunge of court and conspiracion
And how that cochrane with his company
That tyme in court clam so presumptuously
It had ben good those barons had bene vnborne
By whome that noble prynce was so abused
They grewe as dyd the wede aboue the corne
That prudent lordes counsell was refused
And helde hym quiet as he had bene inclused
Alas that prynce by theyr abusyon
Was finally brought vntounto confusyon
They clam so hye, and get suche audience
And with theyr prynce grewe so famylyar
His germane brother myght get no presence
The duke of Albane, nor the erle of Mar
Lyke banysshed men were holden at the bar
Tyll in the kynge there grewe syk mortall feed
He flemit the duke, and put the erle to deed
This cochrane with his caytyue companye
Forced them to fle, but yet they wanted tedders
Aboue the hyelyders of Libanye
They clam so hye tylt they lap ouer the ledders
On Lauder brig syne kepped were in tedders
Strangled to deth, they got none other grace
Theyr kynge captyue, whiche was a carefull case
Tyll put in forme that fate infortunate
And mortall chaunge perturbeth myne ingyne
My wyttes ben weyke / my fyngers fatigate
To dyte or wryte the rancour ruyne
The ciuyll warre, the battell intestyne
How that the sone with banner brode displayed
Agayne the father in batayle came arayed
Wolde god that prince had bene that day comfortid
With sapience of the prudent Salomone
And with the strengh of strong Sampsone supportid
With the bolde oste of great Agamennone
What shuld I wishe remedy was there none
At morne a kynge with ceptour swerde and croun
At euen a deed deformed carioun
Alas where is that ryght redouted roy
That potent prynce gentill kynge Iames the ferd
I pray to Chryst his saule for to conuoy
One greater noble raygned not in erd
O Atropos wary we may thy werd
For he was myrrour of humilite
Lood ster and lamp of liberalite
During his tyme so iustice did preuayle
The sauage ylis trubled for terrour
Eskdaile emsdaile liddisdaile and anuerdaile
Durst not rebell doutyng his dintis dour
And of his lordes had sik perfit sauour
So forte shawe that he fered no fone
Out through his realme he wold ride him alone.
And of his court through Ewrop sprang the fame
Of lusty lordes and lufsome ladyes yeng
Triumphant tornays Iusting and knyghtly gaine
With all pastyme according for a kynge
He was the glory of pryncely gouernynge
Tyll through the ardent louelove he had to Fraunce
Agaynst Ingland dyd moue his ordinaunce
Of Flowdon felde the ruyne to reuolue
O… that most dolent daye for to deplore
Inyn, for drede that dolour you desolue
Shew… how that prynce in his tryumphant glore
Destroyed was, what nedes proces more
Not by vertue of the Englysshe ordinaunce
But by his owne wylfull mysgouernaunce
Alas that day had he ben consolable
He had opteyned laude, glory, and victory
Whose petuous proces bene so lamentable
Ine w…ll, at length it put in memory
I neuer red in tragedye nor story
At one iourney so many nobles slayne
For the defence and louelove of theyr souerayne
Now brether make in your remembraunce
A myrrour of theyr mutabilities
So may ye knowe the courtes inconstaunce
When prynces bene thus pulled from theyr sees
After whose deth whose straunge aduersitees
What great mysrule in to this region rang
When our yonge prynce couth neyther speke nor gang
Durynge his tender youthe and innocence
What slouth, what stelth, what murther & myschaunce
There was nought elles but werkynge of vengence
In that courte there range syk varyaunce
Dyuers rulers, made dyuers ordinaunce
Somtyne our quene reygned in auctoritie
Somtyme the prudent duke of Albanie
Somtyme the realme was ruled by regentes
Somtyme leeftenauntes ledars of the law
Than reygned so mony inobedientes
That few or none of an other stode in awe
Oppression dyd so loude his bugle blawe
That none durst ride but in the feyr of weir
Iak vpland that tyme dyd mysse his meir.
Who was more hye in honour eleuate
Nor was Margarete our hye and mithty prynces
Such power was to her appropriate
Of kyng and realme she was gouernores
Yet came one chaunge within a short proces
That perle preclare that lusty pleasand quene
Long tyme durst not in the corut be sene
The archebisshop of saynt Androus Iames Beton
Chancellar and primate in power pastorall
Clam next the kyng / most hye in this region
The ledder shooke he lap and gat a fall
Auctoritie nor power spirituall
Riches frendiship myght not that tyme preuayle
When dame Curia began to stere her tayle.
His hygh prudence preuayled hym not a myte
That tyme the court bare hym syk mortal feed
As presoner they kepte hym in despite
And somtyme wyst not where to hide his heed
But disguysed lyke Iohn̄ the reif he raed
Had not bene hope that bare hym company
He had bene strangled by melancoly
What cummet and care was in the court of Fraunce
When kyng Francys was takin presonere
The duke of Bourbon and his ordinaunce
Deed at one stroke ryght balefully brought on bere
The court of Rome that tyme ran all arere
When pape Clement was put in strong preson
The noble citie put to confusion
In England who had greater gouernaunce
Nor theyr tryumphand courtly cardinall
The common weale some sayes he dyd auaunce
By equall iustice both to great and small
There was no prelate to hym peregall
Englysshe men sayth, had he raygned long space
He had deposed saynt Peter of his place
His pryncely pompe, nor papale grauite
His palace royall ryche and radious
Nor yet the flude of superfluite
Of his ryches nor trauayle tedious
From tyme dame Curia held hym odious
Preuayled hym not nor prudence most profounde
The ledder brake and and he fell to the grounde
Where bene the doughty erles of douglas
Whylkes ryally in to this region rang
Forfayt and slayne what nedeth more proces
The erle of Marche was marchelled them amang
Dame Curia them dolefully downe thrang
And now of late who clam more hye amang vsus
Nor dyd archbald vmwhyle erle of angus.
Who with his prynce was more familiar
Nor of his grace had more auctorite
Was he not great wardeyn and chauncellar
Yet whan he stode vponupon the hyghest gre
Trustyng no thyng but perpetuite
Was sodaynly deposed from his place
Forfayt and flemit, he gat non other grace
Wherfore trust not in auctorite
My dere brethren I pray you hartely
Presume not in your vayne prosperite
Conferme your trust in god all hooly
Syne, serue your prynce with entier hert truly
And when ye se the court bene at the best
I counsall you than draw you to your rest
Where bene the hye tryumphant court of troy
Of Alexandre with his twelue prudent peres
Or Iulius that ryght redoubted roy
Agamemnon most whorthy in his weres
To shew theyr fyne my frayed hert efferes
Some murdred were, some poysoned petiously
Theyr carefull courtis disparsid dolefully
Trust well m… frendes there is no constāt court but one
Where Chryst is kynge whose tyme interminable
And hygh tryumphant glory is neuer gone
That quiete court mirthful and vmmutable
Without varyaunce standith ay ferme and stable
Dissimilance flatery nor fals report
In to that court shall neuer get resort
Trust well my frendes this is no fayned fare
For who that bene in the extreme of deed
The verite without doubte they sholde declare.
Without regarde to fauour or to feed
Whyle ye hauehave tyme dere brether make remede
Adue for euer, of me ye get no more
Besekand god to brynge you to his glore
Adue Edinburgh, you hygh triumphant towne
Within whose boundes ryght blythfull hauehave I bene
Of true marchauntes the rote of this regiowne
Moost redy to receyue court kynge and quene
Thy polecye and iustyce maye be sene
Were deuotion wysdome and honeste
And credence tint, they myght be founde in the
Adue fayre Snadowne, with thy toures hye
Thy chappell, ryall, parke, and table rounde
Maye, Iune, and Iuly, wolde I dwell in the
Were I a man to heare the byrdes sounde
Whylke doth agayne thy ryall rocke redounde
Adue Lythko, whose palayse of pleasaunce
Myght be a patron in Portingale or Fraunce
Farewell Falklande, the forteres of of Fyfe
Thy polyte parke vnderunder the lowmonde lawe
Somtyme in the, I led a lusty lyfe
The followe dere to se them reke on rawe
Court men to come to the, they stande great awe
Sayenge thy burgh ben of all burrowes vale
Because in the they neuer get good ale