A Satire of the Three Estates, Play · Part 2

A Satire of the Three Estates · Play · Part 2

p. 63Now ſall the pepill mak Collatioun, then beginnis the Interlude, the Kings, Biſchops and principall players being out of their ſeats.

p. 64Pauper, the pure man.

OF ȝour almis gude folks for Gods luife of heavin,

For I hauehave motherles bairns either ſax or ſeavin:

Gif ȝe'ill gif me na gude for the luife of Ieſus,

Wiſche me the richt way till Sanct-Androes.

Diligence.

Quhair hauehave wee gottin this gudly companȝeoun?

Swyith out of the feild fals raggit loun.

God wait gif heir be ane weill keipit place,

Quhen ſic ane vilde begger Carle may get entres.

Fy on ȝow officiars that mends nocht thir failȝies,

[] I gif ȝow all till the deuill baith Provoſt and Bailȝies

Without ȝe cum and chaſe this Carle away

The Deuill a word ȝe'is get mair of our play.

Fals huirſun raggit Carle, quhat Deuil is that thou rugs

Pauper.

Quha Devil maid the ane gentill man that wald cut not thy lugs?

Dili.

Quhat now? me thinks the carle begins to crack,

Swyith carle away or be this day Iſe break thy back. Heir ſall the Carle clim vp and ſit in the Kings tchyre.

Cum doun, or be Gods croun fals loun I ſall ſlay the.

Pauper.

Now ſweir be thy brunt ſchinis the Deuill ding them fra the.

Quhatſay ȝe till thir court daſtards be thay get hail clais

Sa ſune as thay leir to ſweir and trip on thair tais.

Di.

Me thocht the carle callit me knaue evin in my face

Be Sanct Fillane thou ſalbe ſlane, bot gif thou ask grace:

Loup doun or be the gude Lord thow ſall los thy heid.

Paup.

I ſal anis drink or I ga thocht thou had ſworne my deid.

Heir Diligence caſtis away the ledder.

Dili.

Loup now gif thou liſt for thon hes loſt the ledder▪

Paup.

It is full weil thy kind to loup and licht in a ledder.

p. 65Thou ſal be faine to fetch agane ye ledder or I loup

I ſall ſit heir into this tcheir till I hauehave tumde the ſtoup. Heir ſall the Carle loup aff the ſcaffald.

Swyith begger bogill haiſt the away,

Thow art over pert to ſpill our play.

Pauper.

I wil not gif for al ȝour 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 ſorrow:

I can not get, thocht I gaſp to beg nor to borrow.

Diligence.

Quhair deuill is this thou dwels or quhats thy intent?

Pauper.

I dwell into Lawthiane ane myle fra Tranent.

Dil.

Quhair wald thou be carle, the ſuth to me ſchaw?

Pauper.

Sir evin to Sanct-Androes for to ſeik law.

Dili.

For to ſeik law in Edinburgh was the neireſt way,

Pauper.

Sir I ſocht law thair this monie deir day.

Bot I cold get nane at Seſſioun nor Seinȝe,

Thairfoir the mekill din Deuill droun all the meinȝe.

Dil.

Shaw me thy mater man with al the circumſtances▪

How that thou hes happinit on thir vnhappie chances.

Pauper.

Gude-man will ȝe gif me of ȝour Charitie

And I ſall declair ȝow the black veritie.

My father was ane auld man and ane hoir,

And was of age fourſcoir of ȝeirs 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,

And everie ilk ȝeir ſcho brocht vsus hame ane foill.

VVee had thrie ky that was baith fat and fair,

Nane tydier into the toun of air.

p. 66My father was ſa waik of blude and bane,

That he deit, 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 on the feild,

And our Lands laird tuik hir for his hyreild

The Vickar tuik the beſt Cow be the head,

Incontinent quhen my father was deid.

And quhē the Vickar hard tel how that my mother▪

VVas dead, fra▪ hand he tuke to him ane vther,

Then Meg my wife did murne both evin & morow

Till at the laſt ſcho deit for verie ſorow:

And quhen the Vickar hard tell my wyfe was dead,

The thrid Cow he cleikit be the head.

Thair vmeſt clayis that was of rapploch gray,

The Vickar gart his Clark bear them away.

Quhen all was gaine I micht mak na debeat

Bot with my bairns paſt for till beg my meat.

Now hauehave I tald ȝow the blak veritie,

How I am brocht into this miſerie.

Dil.

How did ye perſon, was he not thy gude freind?

[] Pau.

The devil ſtick him, he curſt me for my teind

And halds me ȝit vnderunder that ſame proces

That gart me want the Sacrament at Paſche.

In gudefaith ſir, thocht he wald cut my throt,

I hauehave na geir except ane Inglis grot.

Quhilk I purpois to gif ane man of law.

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.

Paup.

Sir be quhat law tell me quhairfoir or quhy?

That ane Vickar ſould tak fra me thrie ky.

p. 67Diligence.

Thay hauehave na law except and conſuetude,

Quhilk law to them is ſufficient and gude.

Paup.

Ane conſuetude againſt the common weill,

Sould be na law I think beſweit Sanct Geill.

Quhair will ȝe find that law tell gif ȝe can?

To tak thrie ky fra ane pure husband man.

Ane for my father, and for my wyfe ane vther,

And the thrid Cow he tuke fra Mald my mother.

Diligence.

It is thair law all that thay hauehave in vſe

Thocht it be Cow, Sow, Ganer, Gryſe or Guſe,

Pauper.

Sir I wald ſpeir at ȝow ane queſtioun,

Behauld ſum Prelats of this Regioun,

Manifeſtlie during thair luſtie▪ lyfis,

[] Thay ſwyfe Ladies, Madinis and vther mens wyfis.

And ſa thair cunts thay hauehave in conſuetude,

Quhidder ſay ȝe that law is evill or gude?

Dil.

Hald thy toung man, it ſeims that thou war mangit,

Speik thou of Preiſts but doubt thou will be hangit.

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,

Pauper.

Gif that be trew the ſeind reſaue the ſort.

Sa ſen I ſe I get na vther grace,

I will ly doun and reſt mee in this place.

Pauper lyis doun in the feild, Pardoner enters.

Pardoner.

Bona dies, Bona dies,

¶Devoit peopill, gude day I ſay ȝow,

Now tarie ane lytill quhyll I pray ȝow,

Till I be with ȝow knawin:

Wait ȝe weill how I am namit?

Ane nobill man and vndefamit

Gif all the ſuith war ſchawin.

p. 68I am ſir Robert Rome-raker,

Ane perfite publike pardoner

Admittit be the Paip:

Sirs I ſall ſchaw ȝow for my wage

My pardons and my pilgramage,

Quhilk ȝe ſall ſe and graip:

I giuegive to the deuill with gude intent,

This vnſell wickit New-teſtament.

With them that it tranſlait it:

Sen layik men knew the veritie,

Pardoners gets no charitie,

Without that thay debait it.

Amang the wiues with wrinks and wyles,

As all my marrowis, men begyles,

With our fair fals flattrie:

Ȝea all the crafts I ken perqueir,

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 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 loun,

Black Bullinger and Melancthoun,

Had bene ſmorde in their cude.

Be him that buir the crowne of thorne,

I wald Sanct Paull had neuer bene borne,

p. 69And als I wald his bulks:

VVar never red in the kirk,

Bot amangs freirs into the mirk,

Or riuen amang ruiks.

Heir ſall he lay doun his geir vponupon ane buird and ſay▪

My patent pardouns ȝe may ſe,

Cumfra the Caue of Tartarie,

VVeill ſeald with oſter-ſchellis.

Thocht ȝe hauehave na contritioun;

Ȝe ſall hauehave full remiſſioun

VVith help of Buiks and bellis.

Heir is ane relict lang and braid,

Of fine Macoull the the richt chaft blaid,

VVith teith and al togidder:

Of Collings cow heir is ane horne,

For eating of Makconnals corne,

Was ſlaine into Baquhidder.

Heir is ane coird baith great and lang,

Quhilk hangit Iohne 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 Bryds kow,

The gruntill of Sanct Antonis ſow,

Quhilk buit his haly bell:

Quha ever he be heiris this bell clinck,

Gif me ane ducat for till drink,

He ſall never gang to hell.

VVithout he be of Baliell borne,

Maiſters trow ȝe that this beſcorne?

Cum win this pardoun, cum:

p. 70Quha luifis thair wyfis nocht with thair hart

I hauehave power them for till part,

Me think ȝow deif and dum.

Hes naine of ȝow curſt wickit wyfis,

That halds ȝow into ſturt and ſtryfis,

Cum tak my diſpenſatioun:

Of that cummer I ſall mak ȝow quyte,

How be it ȝour ſelfis be in the wyte,

And mak ane fals narratioun.

Cum win the pardoun now letſe,

For meill, for malt or for monie,

For cok, hen, guſe or gryſe:

Of relicts heir I hauehave ane hunder,

Quhy cum ȝe nocht this is ane wonder?

I trow ȝe be nocht wyſe.

Sowtar.

Welcum hame Robert Rome-raker,

Our halie patent pardoner:

Gif ȝe hauehave diſpenſatioun,

To pairt me and my wickit wyfe,

And me deliver from ſturt and ſtryfe,

I mak ȝow ſupplicatioun.

Pardoner.

I ſall ȝow pairt but mair demand,

Sa I get mony in my hand,

Thairfoir let ſe ſum cunȝe:

Sowtar.

I hauehave na ſilver be my lyfe,

Bot fyue ſchillings and my ſchaipping knyfe,

That ſall ȝe hauehave but ſunȝe.

Pardoner.

Quhat kynd of woman is thy wyfe,

Sowtar.

Ane quick Devill Sir, ane ſtorme of ſtryfe,

Ane Frog that fyles the winde:

[]Ane fiſtand flag, a flagartie fuffe,

At ilk ane pant ſcho lets ane puffe,

p. 71And hes na ho behind.

All the lang day ſcho me diſpyts,

And all the nicht ſcho flings and flyts,

Thus ſleip I never ane wink:

That Cockatrice, that commoun huir,

The mekill Devill may nocht in duir

Hir ſtuburnnes and ſtink.

Sowtars wife.

Theif carle thy words I hard rycht weill

In faith my freindſchip ȝe ſall feill,

And I the fang:

Sowtar.

Gif I ſaid ocht Dame be the Rude,

Except ȝe war baith fair and gude,

God nor I hang.

Pardoner.

Fair dame gif ȝe wald be ane wower,

To part ȝow twa I hauehave ane power,

Tell on ar ȝe content?

Sowtars wyfe.

Ȝe that I am with all my hart

Fra that fals huirſone till depart,

Gif this theif will conſent.

Cauſſes to part to part I hauehave anew,

[]Becaus I gat na chamber-glew,

I tell ȝow verely

I meruell nocht, ſa mot I lyfe,

[]Howbeit that ſwingeour can not ſwyfe,

He is baith cauld and dry.

Pard.

Quhat wil ȝe gif me for ȝour part▪

Ane cuppill of ſarks with all my hart,

The beſt claith in the land:

Pardoner.

To part ſen ȝe ar baith content,

I ſall ȝow part incontinent,

Bot ȝe mon do command.

My will and finall ſentence is,

Ilk ane of ȝow vthers arſſe kis:

Slip doun ȝour hois, me thinkis the carle is glaikit,

Set thou not by howbeit ſcho kiſſe and ſlaik it, Heir ſall ſcho kis hir arſſe with ſilence.

Lift vp hir clais, kis hir hoill with ȝour hart,

Sowtar.

I pray ȝow ſir forbid hir for to fart.

Heir ſall the Carle kis hir arſſe with ſilence.

Pardoner.

Dame pas ȝe to the eaſt end of the toun,

And pas ȝe weſt evin lyke ane cuckald loun,

Go hence ȝe baith with Baliels braid bliſſing,

Schirs ſaw ȝe ever mair ſorrowles pairting?

Heir ſall the boy cry aff the hill.

Wilkin.

¶Hoaw maiſter, hoaw, quhair ar ȝe now?

Pardonner.

I am heir Wilkin widdie fow.

Wilkin.

Sir I hauehave done ȝour bidding,

For I hauehave fund ane great hors bane,

Ane fairer ſaw ȝe never nane,

VponUpon Dame Fleſchers midding.

Sir, ȝe may gar the wyfis trow,

It is ane bane of Sanct Bryds cow,

Gude for the feuer quartane:

Sir will ȝe reull this relict weill,

All the wyfis will baith kis and kneill,

Betuixt this and Dumbartane,

Pardoner.

Quhat ſay thay of me in the toun?

Wilkin.

Sum ſayis ȝe ar ane verie loun:

Sum ſayis, Legatus natus:

Sum ſayis ȝ'ar ane fals Saracene,

And ſum ſayis ȝe ar for certaine

Diabolus incarnatus.

Bot keip ȝow fra ſubiectioun,

Of the curſt King Correctioun.

For be ȝe with him fangit:

Becaus ȝe ar ane Rome-raker,

Ane commoun publick cawſay-paker,

But doubt ȝe will be hangit.

Pardoner.

Quhair ſall I ludge into the toun?

Wilkin.

With gude kynde Criſtiane Anderſon,

Quhair ȝe will be weill treatit.

Gif ony li nmer ȝow demands,

Scho will defend ȝow with hir hands,

And womanlie debait it.

Bawburdie ſays be the Trinitie,

That ſcho ſall beir ȝow cumpanie,

Howbeit ȝe byde ane ȝeir.

Pardoner.

Thou hes done weill be Gods mother

Tak ȝe the taine and I the t'other:

Sa ſall we mak greit cheir.

¶Wilkin.

I reid ȝow ſpeid ȝow heir,

And mak na langer tarie:

Byde ȝe lang thair but weir,

I dreid ȝour weird ȝow warie.

Heir ſall pauper riſe and rax him.

¶Paup.

Quhat thing was ȝon that I hard crak & cry?

I hauehave bene dreamand and dreueland of myky.

With my richt hand my haill bodie I ſaine,

Sanct Bryd, Sanct Bryd, ſend me my ky againe,

I ſe ſtandand ȝonder ane halie man,

To mak me help let me ſe gif he can.

Halie maiſter, God ſpeid ȝow and gude morne,

Pard.

Welcum to me thocht thou war at the horne,

Cum win the pardoun and ſyne I ſall the ſaine,

Pauper.

Wil that pardoun get me myky againe?

Pardoner.

Carle of thy ky I hauehave nathing ado,

p. 78Cum win my my pardon and kis my relicts to.

Heir ſall he ſaine him with his relictis▪

Pard.

Now lows thy purſſe & lay doun thy offrand,

And thou ſall hauehave my pardon euin fra-hand.

With raipis and relicts I ſall the ſaine againe,

Of Gut or grauell thou ſall neuer hauehave paine.

Now win the pardon limmer, or thou art loſt:

Pauper.

My haly father quhat wil that pardon coſt?

Pard.

Let ſe quhat mony thou beareſt in thy bag:

Paup.

I hauehave ane grot heir bund into ane rag.

Pard.

Hes thou na vther ſiluer bot ane groat?

Pauper.

Gif I hauehave mair ſir cum and rype my coat▪

Pard.

Gif me that grot man, gif thou heſt na mair,

Pauper.

With all my heart maiſter lo tak it thair:

Now let me ſe ȝour pardon with ȝour leif.

Pardoner.

Ane thouſand ȝeir of pardons I the geif▪

Pauper.

Ane thouſand ȝeir? I will not liue ſa lang,

Delyuer me it maiſter and let me gang.

Pardoner.

Ane thouſand ȝeir I lay vponupon thy head,

With tetiens quotiens: now mak me na mair plead:

Thou haſt reſaifit thy pardon now already.

Pauper.

Bot I can ſe na thing ſir be our Lady:

Forſuith maiſter, I trow I be not wyſe:

To pay ere I hauehave ſene my marchandryſe.

That ȝe hauehave gottin my groat full ſair I rew:

Sir, quhidder is ȝour pardon black or blew?

Maiſter, ſen ȝe hauehave taine fra me my cunȝie,

My marchandryſe ſchaw me withouttin ſunȝie.

Or to the Biſchop I ſall pas and pleinȝie

In Sanct-Androis, & ſummōd ȝow to the Seinȝie▪

Par.

Qi hat craifis the carle'me thinks thou art not wiſe.

Pauper.

I craif my groat or ellis my marchandriſe.

p. 79Pardoner.

I gaif the pardon for ane thowſand ȝeir,

Pauper.

How ſall I get that pardon let me heir?

Pardoner.

Stand ſtill and I ſall tell the haill ſtorie:

Quhen thow art deid and gais to Purgatorie,

Being condempit to paine a thowſand ȝeir:

Then ſall thy pardoun the releif but weir,

Now be content▪ ȝe ar ane mervelous man:

Pauper.

Sall I get nathing for my grot quhill than?

Pardoner.

That ſall thou not I mak it to ȝow plaine▪

Pauper.

Na than goſſop, gif me my grot againe.

Quhat ſay ȝe maiſters call ȝe this gude reſoun?

That he ſould promeis me ane gay pardoun:

And he reſaue my money in his ſtead,

Syne mak me na payment till I be dead:

Quhen I am deid I wait full ſikkerlie,

My ſillie ſaull will pas to Purgatorie:

Declair me this? now God nor Baliell bind the,

Quhen I am thair curſt carle, quhair ſall I find the?

Not into heavin, bot rather into hell:

Quhen you art thair thou can not help thy ſel.

Quhen will thou cum my dolours till abait?

Or I the find my hippis will get ane hait.

Trowis thou butchour that I will by blind lambis:

[]Gif me my grot the devill dryte in thy gambis.

Par.

Suyith ſtand abak, I trow this man be mangit:

Thou gets not this carle, thocht you ſuld be hangit

Pauper.

Gif me my grot weill bund into ane clout,

[]Or be Gods breid Robin ſall beir ane rout.

Heir ſal thay fecht with ſilence and Pauper ſal caſt doun the buird, and caſt the relicts in the water

Diligence.

Quhat kind of daſſing is this al day?

Suyith ſmaiks out of the the feild, away.

p. 80Into ane preſoun put them ſone,

Syne hang them quhen the play is done.

Heir ſall Diligence mak his proclamatioun.

¶Diligence.

Famous peopill tak tent and ȝe ſall ſe

The thrie eſtaits of this natioun:

Cum to the Court with ane ſtrange gravitie,

Thairfoir I mak ȝow ſupplicatioun:

Till ȝe hauehave heard our haill narratioun,

To keip ſilence and be patient I pray ȝow,

Howbeit we ſpeik be adulatioun,

Wee ſall ſay nathing bot the ſuith I ſay ȝow.

Gude verteous men that luifis the veritie,

I wait thay will excuſe our negligence:

Bot vicious men denude of charitie,

As feinȝeit fals flattrand Saracens.

Howbeit thay cry on vsus ane loud vengence,

And of our paſtyme mak ane fals report.

Quhat may wee do bot tak in patience?

And vsus refer vntounto the faithfull ſort.

¶Our Lord Ieſus Peter nor Paull,

Culd nocht compleis the peopill all▪

Bot ſum war miſcontent:

Howbeit thay ſchew the veritie,

Sum ſaid that it war heriſie,

Be thair maiſt fals iudgement.

Heir ſall the thrie eſtaits cum fra the palȝeoun gangand backwart led be thair vyces.

Wantonnes.

Now braid benedicite,

Quhat thing is ȝon that I ſe?

Luke Solace my hart:

Solace.

Brother Wantonnes quhat thinks thow?

Ȝon ar the thrie eſtaits I trow:

p. 81Gangand backwart.

Wantonnes.

Backwart, backwart, out wallaway?

It is greit ſchame for them I ſay,

Backwart to gang:

I trow the King Correctioun,

Man mak ane reformatioun:

Or it be lang.

Now let vsus go and tell the King, Pauſa.

Sir wee hauehave ſene ane mervelous thing

Be our iudgement:

The thrie eſtaits of this Regioun,

Ar cummand backwart throw this toun,

To the Parlament▪

Rex.

Backwart, backwart, how may that be?

Gar ſpeid them haiſtelie to me:

In dreid that thay ga wrang:

Placebo.

Sir I ſe them ȝonder cummand,

Thay will be he heir evin fra hand,

Als faſt as thay may gang.

Gude-coun.

Sir hald ȝou ſtil & skar them nocht▪

Till ȝe perſaue quhat be thair thocht,

And ſe quhat men them leids:

And let the King Correctioun,

Mak ane ſcharp inquiſitioun,

And mark them be the heids.

Quhen ȝe ken the occaſioun,

That maks them ſic perſuaſioun;

Ȝe may expell the caus:

Syne them reforme as ȝe think beſt,

Sua that the Realme may liue in reſt▪

According to Gods lawis.

Heir ſall the thrie eſtaits cum and turne thair faces to the King.

¶Spir.

Gloir, honour, laud triumph and victorie

Be to ȝour michtie prudent excellence:

Heir ar we cum all the eſtaits thrie,

Readie to mak our dew obedience.

At ȝour command with humbill obſervance,

As my pertene to Spiritualitie.

With counſell of the Temporalitie.

Temp.

Sir we with michtie curage at command

Of ȝour ſuperexcellent Maieſtie,

Sall mak ſeruice baith with our hart and hand,

And ſall not dreid in thy defence to die:

Wee ar content but doubt that wee may ſe

That nobill heavinlie King Correctioun,

Sa he with merciemercy mak punitioun.

Merchand.

Sir we ar heir ȝour Burgeſſis and Merchands,

Thanks be to God that we may ſe ȝour face:

Traiſtand wee may now into divers lands,

Convoy our geir with ſupport of ȝour grace.

For now I traiſt wee ſall get reſt and peace,

Quhē miſdoars ar with ȝour ſword overthrawin

Then may leil-merchands liue vponupon thair awin.

Rex.

Welcum to me my prudent Lords all,

Ȝe ar my members ſuppois I be ȝour head:

Sit doun that we may with ȝour iuſt counſall,

Aganis miſdoars find ſoveraine remeid.

Wee ſall nocht ſpair for fauour nor for feid,

With ȝour avice to mak punitioun:

And put my ſword to executioun.

Cor.

My tender freinds I pray ȝow with my hart,

Declair to me the thing that I wald ſpeir,

Quhat is the caus that ȝe gang all backwart?

The veritie thair of faine wald I heir.

Spiri.

Soveraine we hauehave gaine ſa this mony a ȝeir

Howbeit ȝe think we go vndecently,

VVee think wee gang richt wonder pleaſantly.

Dil.

Sit doun my Lords into ȝour proper places:

Syne let the King conſider all ſic caces.

Sit doun ſir ſcribe, and ſit doun dampſter to:

And fence the Court as ȝe war wont to do.

Thay ar ſet doun & Gud-counſell ſal pas to his ſeat.

¶Rex.

My prudent Lords of the thrie eſtaits,

It is our will abuife all vther thing,

For to reforme all them that maks debaits,

Contrair the richt quhilk daylie dois maling.

And thay that dois the Common-weil doun thring

With help and counſell of King Correctioun,

It is our will for to mak puniſching:

And plaine oppreſſours put to ſubiectioun.

Spiritu.

Quhat thing is this ſir, that ȝe hauehave devyſit

Schirs ȝe hauehave neid for till be weill advyſit

Be nocht haiſtie into ȝour executioun,

And be nocht our extreime in ȝour punitioun.

And gif ȝe pleaſe to do ſir, as wee ſay,

Poſtpone this Parlament till ane vther day.

For quhy? the peopill of this Regioun,

May nocht indure extreme correctioun.

Correct.

Is this the part my Lords that ȝe will tak▪

To mak vsus ſupportatioun to correct:

It dois appeir that ȝe ar culpabill,

That ar nocht to Correctioun applyabill.

Suyith Diligence gaſchaw it is our will,

That everilk man oppreſt geif in his Bill.

Dili.

All maneir of men I wairne that be oppreſt,

Cum and complaine and thay ſalbe redreſt.

For quhy, it is the nobill Princes will,

That ilk compleiner ſall gif in his Bill. Iohne the Common-weill.

Out of my gait, for Gods ſaik let me ga▪

Tell me againe gude maiſter quhat ȝe ſay.

Diligence.

I warne al that be wrangouſlie offendit,

Cum and complaine and thay ſall be a nendit.

Iohn.

Thankit be chriſt yat buir the croun of thorne

For I was never ſa blyth ſen I was b…ne▪

Diligen▪

Quhat is thy name follow▪ that wald I feil?

Iohn.

Forſuith thay call me Iohne the cōmon-weil.

Gude maiſter I wald ſpeir at ȝou ane thing,

Quhair traiſt ȝe I ſall, find ȝon new cumde King?

Dili.

Cum over, and I ſall ſchaw the to his grace,

Iohne▪ Gods benneſone licht on that luckie face.

Stand by the gait, let ſe gif I can loup,

I man rin faſt incace I get ane coup.

Heir ſall Iohne loup the ſtank or els fall in it.

Dili.

Speid the away, thou taryis all to lang:

Iohne.

Now be this day I may na faſter gang. Iohne to the King.

Gude day, gud day, grit God ſaif baith ȝour graces

Wallie, wallie fall thay twa weill fairde faces.

Rex.

Shaw me thy name gude man I the command,

Io.

Marie Iohne the common-weil of fair Scotland

Rex.

The commoun weill hes bene amang his fais:

Ioh.

Ȝe ſir that gars the commoun-weil want clais.

Rex.

Quhat is the caus the common weil is crukit?

Ioh.

Becaus the common-weill hes bene overlukit

Rex.

Quhat gars the luke ſa with ane dreirie hart?

Ioh.

Becaus the thrie eſtaits gangs all backwart.

Rex.

Sir cōmon weill knaw ȝe the limmers that thē leids?

Iohne.

Thair canker cullours I ken them be the heads▪

As for our reverent fathers of Spiritualitie,

Thay ar led be Couetice and cairles Senſualitie.

And as ȝe ſe Temporalitie hes neid of correctioun▪

Quhilk hes lang tyme bene led be publick oppreſſioun▪

Loe quhair the loun lyis lurkand at his back,

Get vp I think to ſe thy craig gar ane raip crack.

Loe heir is Falſet and Diſſait weill I ken,

Leiders of the merchants and ſillie crafts-men.

Quhat mervell thocht the thrie eſtaits backwart gang?

Quhen ſic an vyle cumpanie dwels them amang.

Quhilk hes reulit this rout monie deir dayis,

Quhilk gars Iohn the cōmon-weil want his warme clais

Sir call them befoir ȝow and put them in ordour,

Or els Iohn the common-weil man beg on the bordour.

[]Thou feinȝeit Flattrie the feind fart in thy face,

Quhen ȝe was guyder of the Court we gat litill grace.

Ryſe vp Falſet and Diſſait without ony ſunȝe,

I pray God nor the devils dame dryte on thy grunȝe.

Behauld as the loun lukis evin lyke a theif,

Monie wicht warkman thou brocht to miſcheif.

My ſoveraine Lord Correction I mak ȝow ſupplication,

Put thir tryit truikers from Chriſtis congregation.

Correctioun.

As ȝe hauehave devyſit but doubt it ſa be done

Cum heir my Sergeants and do ȝour debt ſone.

Put thir thrie pellours into preſſoun ſtrang,

Howbeit ȝe ſould hang them ȝe do them na wrahg.

Firſt Sergeant.

Soverane Lords wee ſall obey ȝour commands:

Brother vponupon thir limmers lay on thy hands.

Ryſe vp ſone loun thou luiks evin lyke ane lurden:

p. 86Ȝour mouth war meit to drink an weſche iurden.

Secund Sergeant.

¶Cum heir goſſop, cum heir, cum heir,

Ȝour rackles lyfe ȝe ſall repent:

Quhen was ȝe wont to be ſa ſweir?

Stand ſtill and be obedient.

Firſt Sergeant.

Thair is nocht in all this toun,

Bot I wald nocht this taill war tald▪

Bot I wald hang him for his goun,

Quhidder that it war Laird or laid.

I trow this pellour be ſpur-gaid,

Put in thy hand into this cord,

Howbeit I ſe thy skap skyre skaid:

Thou art ane ſtewat I ſtand foird.

Heir ſall the vycis be led to the ſtocks.

Secund Ser.

Put in ȝour leggis into the ſtocks,

For ȝe had never ane meiter hois:

Thir ſtewats ſtinks as thay war Broks,

Now ar ȝe ſikker I ſuppois. Pauſa.

My Lords wee hauehave done ȝour commands,

Sall wee put Covetice in captivitie?

Correction.

Ȝe hardlie lay on them ȝour hands,

Rycht ſa vponupon Senſualitie,

Spi.

This is my Grainter and my Chalmerlaine,

And hes my gould and geir vnderunder hir cuiris:

I mak ane vow to God I ſall complaine,

VntoUnto the Paip how ȝe do me iniuris.

Covence.

¶My reverent fathers tak in patience,

I ſall nocht lang remaine from ȝour peſence

Thocht for ane quhyll I man from ȝow depairt,

p. 87I wait my ſpreit ſall remaine in ȝour hart.

And quhen this King Correctioun beis abſent,

Then ſall we twa returne incontinent.

Thairfoir adew.—

—Spiritualitie.

Adew be Sanct Mavene,

Pas quhair ȝe will we ar twa naturall men.

Senſualitie.

Adew my Lord—

Spiritualitie.

—Adew my awin ſweit hart.

Now duill fell me that wee twa man depart.

Senſuali.

My Lord howbeit this parting dois me paine,

I traiſt in God we ſal meit ſone agane.

Spiri.

To cum againe I pray ȝow do ȝour cure,

Want I ȝow twa I may nocht lang indure.

Heir ſal the Sergeants chaſe them away, and they ſal gang to the ſeat of Senſualitie.

¶Tempor.

My Lords ȝe knaw the thrie eſtaits,

For Common-weill ſuld mak debaits:

Let now amang vsus be devyſit,

Sic actis that with gude men be prayſit.

Conforming to the common law,

For of na man we ſould ſtand aw.

And for till ſaif vsus fra murmell,

Schone Diligence fetch vsus Gude-counſell

For quhy he is ane man that knawis,

Baith the Cannon and Civill lawis.

Diligence.

Father ȝe man incontinent,

Paſſe to the Lords of Parliament.

For quhy thay ar determinat all,

To do na thing by ȝour counſall.

Gude-counſal.

That ſal I do within ſchort ſpace,

Praying the Lord to ſend vsus grace:

For till conclude or wee depart,

That thay may profeit eſterwart,

Baith to the Kirk and to the King,

I ſall deſyre na vther thing. Pauſa.

My Lords God glaid the cumpanie,

Quhat is the caus ȝe ſend for me?

Merchand.

Sit doun and gif vsus ȝour counſell,

How we ſall ſlaik the greit murmell,

Of pure peopill, that is weill knawin,

And as the Common-weill hes ſchawin.

And als wee knaw it is the Kings will,

That gude remeid be put thairtill.

Sir Common-weill keip ȝe the bar,

Let nane except ȝour ſelf cum nar.

Iohne.

That ſall I do as I beſt can,

I ſall hauld out baith wyfe and man▪

Ȝe man let this puir creature,

Support me for till keip the dure.

I knaw his name full ſickerly,

He will complaine als weill as I.

Counſ.

My worthy Lords ſen ȝe hauehave taine on hand

Sum reformatioun to mak into this land:

And als ȝe knaw it is the Kings mynd,

Quha till the Common-weil hes ay bene kynd:

Thocht reif and thift wer ſtanchit weill aneuch,

Ȝit ſumthing mair belangis to the pleuch.

Now into peace ȝe ſould provyde for weirs,

And be ſure of how mony thowſand ſpeirs,

The King may be quhen he hes ocht ado,

For quhy my Lords this is my reſſoun to.

The husband men and commons thay war wont,

Go in the battell formeſt in the front▪

Bot I hauehave tint all my experience,

Without ȝe mak ſum better diligence:

The Common-weill mon vther wayis be ſtyllit▪

Or be my faith the King wilbe begyllit.

Thir pure commouns daylie as ȝe may ſe,

Declynisdoun till extreme poverrie:

For ſum ar hichtit ſa into thair maill,

Thair winning will nocht find them water kaill.

How Prelats heichts thair teinds it is weill knawin,

That husband-men may not weill hald thair awin.

And now begins ane plague amang them new,

That gentill men thair ſteadings taks in rew.

Thus man thay pay great ferme or lay thair ſteid,

And ſum ar plainlie harlit out be the heid,

And ar diſtroy it without God on them rew.

[] Paup.

Sir be Gods breid that taill is verie trew.

It is weill kend I had baith nolt and hors,

Now all my geir ȝe ſe vponupon my cors.

Correction, Or I depairt I think to mak ane ordour

Iohne.

I pray ȝow ſir begin firſt at bordour.

For how can we ſend vsus aganis Ingland

Quhen we can nocht within our natiue Land,

Deſtroy our awin Scots, common trator theifis,

Quha to leill laborers daylie dois miſcheifis.

[] VVar I ane King my Lord be Gods wounds,

Quha ever held cōmon theifis within thair bounds:

Quhairthrow that dayly leilmen micht be wrangit

Without remeid thair chiftanis ſuld be hangit,

Quhidder he war ane knicht, ane Lord or Laird

The Devill draw me to hell and he war ſpaird.

Tempora.

Quhat vther enemies hes thou let vsus ken?

Iohne.

Sir I compleine vponupon the idill men:

For quhy ſir it is Gods awin bidding

p. 90All Chriſtian men to wirk for thair living.

Sanct Paull that pillar of the Kirk,

Sayis to the wretchis that will not wirk

And bene to vertews laith

Qui non laborat non manducet.

This is in Ingliſche toung or leit:

Quha labouris nocht he ſall not eit.

This bene againſt the ſtrang beggers,

Fidlers, pypers, and pardoners:

Thir Iugglars, Ieſtars, and idill cuitchours,

Thir carriers and thir quintacenſours:

Thir babil-beirers and thir bairds,

Thir ſweir ſwyngeours with Lords and Lairds:

Ma then thair rents may ſuſteine,

Or to thair profeit neidfull bene,

Quhilk bene ay blytheſt of diſcords,

And▪deidly feid amang thar Lords.

For then they ſleutchers man be treatit▪

Or els thair querrels vndebaitit.

This bene againſt thir great fat Freiris,

Auguſtenes, Carmleits and Cordeleirs:

And all vthers that in cowls bene cled,

Quhilk labours nocht and bene weill fed.

I mein nocht laborand Spirituallie,

Nor for thair living corporallie:

Lyand in dennis lyke idill doggis

I them compair to weil fed hoggis▪

I think they do them ſelfis abuſe,

Seing that thay the warld refuſe:

Haifing profeſt ſic povertie,

Syne fleis faſt fra neceſſitie.

Quhat gif thay povertie wald profeſſe?

p. 91And do as did Diogenes,

That great famous Philoſophour,

Seing in earth bot vaine labour,

Alutterlie the warld refuſit,

And in ane tumbe him ſelf incluſit,

And leifit on herbs and water cauld,

Of corporall fude na mair he wald.

He trottit nocht from toun to toun,

Beggand to feid his carioun.

Fra tyme that lyfe he did profes,

The wald of him was cummerles.

Rycht ſa of Marie Magdalene,

And of Mary th'Egyptiane:

And of auld Paull the firſt Hermeit,

All thir had povertie compleit.

Ane hundreth ma I micht declair,

Bot to my purpois I will fair:

Concluding ſleuthfull idilnes,

Againſt the Common-weill expreſſe.

Correctioun.

Quhom vponupon ma will ȝe compleine?

Iohne.

Marie on ma and ma againe.

For the pure peopill cryis with cairis,

The infetching of Iuſtice airis:

Exercit mair for couetice,

Then for the puniſching of vyce.

Ane peggrell theif that ſteillis ane kow,

Is hangit▪ bot he that ſteillis ane bow

With als meikill geir as he may turs,

That theif is hangit be the purs.

Sic pykand peggrall theifis ar hangit,

Bot he that all the warld hes wrangit,

Ane cruell tyrane ane ſtrang tranſgreſſour,

p. 94Ane common publick plaine oppreſſour,

By buds may he obteine fauours

Of Treſurers and compoſitours.

Thocht he ſerue greit punitioun,

Gets eaſie compoſitioun:

And throch laws conſiſtoriall

Prolixt, corrupt and perpetuall.

The common peopill ar put ſa vnderunder,

Thocht thay be puir it is na wonder.

Correction.

Gude Iohne I grant all that is trew▪

Ȝour infortoun full ſair I rew:

Or I pairt aff this Natioun,

I ſall mak reformatioun.

And als my Lord Temporalitie,

I ȝow command in tyme that ȝe

Expell oppreſſioun aff ȝour lands.

And als I ſay to ȝow merchands,

Gif ever I find be land or ſie,

Diſſait be in ȝour cumpanie:

Quhilk ar to Common-weill contrair,

I vow to God I ſall not ſpair

To put my ſword to executioun,

And mak on ȝow extreme punitioun.

Mairover my Lord Spiritualitie,

In gudlie haiſt I will that ȝe

Set into few ȝour temporall lands.

To men that labours with thair hands.

Bot nocht to ane gearking gentill man,

That nether will he wirk, nor can:

Quhair throch the policy may increſſe.

Temporalitie.

I am content ſir be the meſſe:

Swa that the Spiritualitie,

Sets thairs in few als weill as wee.

Correctioun.

My Spirituall Lords ar ȝe content?

Spiritualitie.

Na, na, wee man tak advyſement

In ſic maters for to conclude,

Ouir haiſtelie, wee think nocht gude.

Cor.

Conclude ȝe nocht with the Comon-weil

Ȝe ſalbe puniſchit be Sanct Geill.

Heir ſall the Biſchops cum with the Freir.

Spiritualitie.

Schir we can ſchaw exemptioun,

Fra ȝour temporall punitioun:

The quhilk wee purpois till debait.

Correction.

Wa than, ȝe think to ſtryue for ſtair.

My Lords quhat ſay ȝe to this play?

Temporalitie.

My ſoverane Lords we will obay,

And tak ȝour part with hart and hand,

Quhat ever ȝe pleis vsus to command. Heir ſal the Temporal ſtait ſit doun on thair knies, & ſay.

Bot wee beſeik ȝow Soveraine,

Of all our cryms that ar bygaine

To gifvs ane remiſſioun,

And heir wee mak to ȝow conditioun,

The Common-weill for till defend

From hence-forth till our liues end.

Correctioun.

On that conditioun I am content

Till pardon ȝow ſen ȝe repent,

The Common-weill tak be the hand,

And mak with him perpetuall band. Heir ſall the temporal ſtaits, to wit, the Lords and merchands imbreaſſe Iohne the Common-weill.

Iohne hauehave ȝe ony ma debaits

Againſt the Lords of Spirituall ſtaits?

Iohne, Na ſir I dar nocht ſpeik ane word

To plaint on Preiſtis it is na bourd:

Correctioun.

Flyt on thy fow fill I deſyre the:

Swa that thou ſchaw bot the veritie.

Iohne.

Grandmerces then I ſall nocht ſpair,

Firſt to compleine on the Vickair.

The pure Cottar being lyke to die,

Haifand ȝoung infants twa or thrie:

And hes twa ky but ony ma,

The Vickar moſt haif ane of thay:

With the gray frugge that covers the bed,

Howbeit the wyſe be purelie cled,

And gif the wyfe die on the morne,

Thocht all the bairns ſould be forlorne,

The vther kow he cleiks away

With the pure cot of raploch gray.

Wald God this cuſtome war put doun,

Quhilk never was found it be reſſoun.

Temporal.

Ar all thay tails trew that thou telles?

[] Pauper.

Trew ſir, the Divill ſtick me elles▪

For be the halie Trinitie,

That ſame was practeiſit on me.

For our Vickar God giuegive him pyne,

Hes ȝit thrie tydie kye of myne.

Ane for my father and for my wyfe ane vther,

And the thrid cow he tuke for Mald my mother.

Iohne.

Our Perſone heir he takis na vther pyne,

Bot to reſſaue his teinds and ſpend them ſyne.

Howbeit he be obleiſt be gude reſſoun,

To preich the Evangell to his parochoun.

Howbeit thay ſuld want preiching ſevintin ȝeir.

Our Perſoun will not want ane ſcheif of beir.

Pau.

Our biſhops with thair luſtie rokats quhyte,

p. 95Thay flow in riches royallie and delyte

Lyke Paradice bend thair palices and places,

And wants na pleaſour of the faireſt faces.

Als thir Prelates hes great prerogatyues,

For quhy thay may depairt ay with thair wyues:

Without ony correctioun or damnage,

Syne tak ane vther wantoner but mariage▪

But doubt I wald think it ane pleaſant lyfe,

Ay on quhen I liſt to part with my wyfe.

Syne tak ane vther of far greiter bewtie,

Bot ever alace my Lords that may not be,

For I am bund alace in mariage,

Bot thay lyke rams rudlie in thair rage.

Vnpyſalt rinnis amang the ſillie ȝowis,

Sa lang as kynde of nature in them growis.

Perſon.

Thou lies fals huirſun raggit loun,

Thair is na Preiſts in all this toun,

That ever vſit ſic vicious crafts.

Iohne.

the feind reſſaue thay flattrand chafts:

Sir Domine I trowit ȝe had be dum.

Quhair Devil gat we this ill fairde blaitie bum?

Perſ.

To ſpeik of Preiſts be ſure it is na bourds:

Thay will burne men now for rakles words,

And all thay words ar heriſie in deid,

Iohn.

The mekil feind reſaue the ſaul that leid.

All that I ſay is trew thocht thou be greifit,

And that I offer on thy pallet to preif it.

Spr.

My lords quhy do ȝe thoil that lurdun loun,

Of Kirk-men to ſpeik ſic detractioun.

I let ȝow wit my Lords it is na bourds,

Of Prelats for till ſpeik ſic wantoun words. Heir Spritualitie fames and rages.

p. 96Ȝon villaine puttis me out of Charitie.

Tompo.

Quhy my Lord▪ ſayis he ocht bot verity

Ȝe can nocht ſtop ane pure man for till pleinȝe

Gif he hes faltit, ſummond him to ȝour Seinȝe.

Spritual.

Ȝea that I ſall, I mak greit God a vow

He ſall repent that he ſpak of the kow.

I will not ſuffer ſic words of ȝon villaine.

Pauper.

I han gar gif me my thrie fat ky againe.

Spr.

Fals carle to ſpeik to me ſtands thou not aw?

Pau.

The feind reſaue them that firſt devyſit that law

Within an houre efter my dade was deid

The Vickar had my kow hard be the heid.

Perſon.

Fals huirſun carle I ſay that law is gude,

Becaus it hes bene lang our conſuetude:

Pauper.

Quhen I am Paip that law I ſal put doun

It is ane ſair law for the pure commoun.

Spritu.

I mak an vow thay words thou ſal repent.

Counſall.

I ȝow requyre my Lords be patient.

Wee came nocht heir for diſputatiouns,

Wee came to make gude reformatiouns.

Heirfoir of this ȝour propoſitioun,

Conclude and put to executioun.

Mer.

My Lords conclud that al the tēporal lands

Be ſet in few to laboreris with thait hands.

With ſic reſtrictiouns as ſall be devyſit,

That thay may liue and nocht to be ſuppryſit.

With ane reſſonabill augmentatioun,

And quhen thay heir ane proclamatioun:

That the Kings grace dois mak him for the weit,

That thay be reddie with harneis, bow and ſpeir.

As for my ſelf my Lord this I conclude.

Coun.

Sa ſay we all ȝour reſſoun be ſa gude.

p. 97To mak ane Act on this we ar content:

Iohne.

On that ſir Scribe I tak ane inſtrument.

Quhat do ȝe of the corſpreſent and kow?

Counſall.

I wil conclude nathing of that as now

Without my Lord of Spiritualitie,

Thairto conſent with all this haill cleargie.

My Lord Biſchop will ȝe thairto conſent?

Spri.

Na, na, never till the day of Iudgement.

Wee will want nathing that wee hauehave in vſe,

Kirtil nor kow, teind lambe, teind gryſe nor guſe.

Tem.

Forſuith my lord I think we ſuldconclude,

Seing this kow ȝe hauehave in conſuetude:

Wee will decerne heir that the Kings grace,

Sall wryte vntounto the Paipis holines:

With his conſent be proclamatioun,

Baith corſpreſent and cow wee ſall cry doun.

Spiri.

To that my Lords wee plainlie diſaſſent,

Noter thair of I tak ane inſtrument.

Tē.

My lord be him that al the warld hes wrocht,

Wee ſet nocht by quhider ȝe conſent or nocht:

Ȝe ar bot ane eſtait and we ar twa,

Et vbi maior pars ibi tota.

Ioh.

My lords ȝe haif richt prudentlie concludit,

Tak tent now how the land is clein denudit:

Of gould and ſilver quhilk daylie gais to Rome,

For buds, mair then the reſt of Chriſtindome.

War I ane King ſir be coks paſſioun,

I ſould gar mak ane proclamatioun.

That never ane penny ſould go to Rome at all,

Na mair then did to Peter nor to Paull.

Da ȝe nocht ſa, heir for concluſioun

I gif ȝow all my braid black maleſoun.

Merchant.

It is of treuth ſirs, be my chriſtindome,

That mekil of our money gais to Rome.

For we merchants I wait within our bounds,

Hes furneiſt Preiſts ten hundreth thowſand punds.

For thair finnance, nane knawis ſa weill as wee:

Thairfoir my Lords devyſe ſum remedie.

For throw thir playis and thir promotioun,

Mair for denners nor for devotioun.

Sir Symonie hes maid with them ane band,

The gould of weicht thay leid out of the land.

The Common-weil, thair throch bein ſair oppreſt

Thairfoir devyſe remeid as ȝe think beſt.

Counſell.

It is ſchort tyme ſen ony benefice,

VVas ſped in Rome except greit Biſchopries.

Bot now for ane vnworthie Vickarage,

Ane Preiſt will rin to Rome in Pilgramage.

Ane cavell quhilk was never at the ſcule,

Will rin to Rome and keip ane Biſchops mule:

And ſyne cum hame with mony colorit crack,

With ane buirdin of benefices on his back.

Quhilk bene againſt the, law ane man alane,

For till poſſes ma benefices norane.

Thir greit commends I ſay withoutin faill,

Sould nocht be giuen bot to the blude Royall:

Sa I conclude my Lords and ſayis for me,

Ȝe ſould annull all this pluralitie.

Spritualitie.

The Paip hes giuen vsus diſpenſatiouns:

Counſall.

Ȝea that is be ȝour fals narratiouns.

Thocht the Paip for ȝour pleaſour will diſpence,

I trow that can nocht cleir ȝour conſcience.

Advyſemy Lords quhat ȝe think to conclude,

Temporalitie.

Sir be my faith I think it verie gude,

That fra hence furth na Preiſtis ſall pas to Rome.

Becaus our ſubſtance thay do ſtillconſume.

For pleyis and for thair profeit ſingulair,

Thay haif of money maid this realme bair.

And als I think it beſt be my advyſe,

That ilk Preiſt ſall haif bot ane benefice.

And gif thay keip nocht that fundatioun,

It ſall be caus of deprivatioun.

Merchant.

As ȝe haif ſaid my Lord we wil conſent,

Scribe mak ane act on this incontinent.

Counſ.

My Lords, thair is ane thing ȝit vnproponit

How Prelats and Preiſtis aucht to be diſponit:

This beand done wee hauehave the les ado;

Quhat ſay ȝe ſirs▪ this is my counſall lo:

That or wee end this preſent Parliament,

Of this mater to tak rype advyſement.

Mark weill my Lords, thair is na benefice

Giuen to ane man, bot for ane gude office.

Quha taks office and ſyne thay can nocht vſit,

Giuer and taker I ſay ar baith abuſit.

Ane Biſchops office is for to be ane preichour,

And of the law of God ane publick teachour.

Rycht ſa the Perſone vntounto his parochoun,

Of the Evangell ſould leir them ane leſſoun.

Thair ſould na man deſyre ſic dignities,

Without he be abill for that office.

And for that caus, I ſay without leiſing,

Thay hauehave thair teinds, and for na vther thing.

Sp.

Friend quhair find ȝe that we ſuld prechours be

Coun.

Luik quhat Sanct Paul wryts vntounto Timothie

Tak thair the Buik let ſe gif ȝe can ſpell.

Spritual.

I never red that, thairfoir reid it ȝour ſel.

Counſall ſall read thir wordis on ane Buik.

¶ Fidelis ſermo, ſiquis Epiſcopatum deſiderat, bonum opus deſiderat, oportet eum irreprehenſibilem eſſe, vnius vxoris virum, ſobrium, prudentem, ornatum, pudicum, hoſpitalem, doctorem: non vinelentum, non percuſſorem: ſed modeſtum. That is ¶ This is a true ſaying, If any man deſire the office of a Biſhop, he deſireth a worthie worke: A Biſhop therefore muſt be vnreproueable, the husband of one wife, &c.

Spiritualitie.

Ȝe temporall men be him that heryit hell,

Ȝe ar ovir peart with ſik maters to mell.

Temporalitie.

Sit ſtill my Lord, ȝe neid not for til braull,

Thir ar the verie words of th'Apoſtill Paull.

Spir.

Sum ſayis be him that woare the croun of thorne,

It had bene gude that Paull had neir bene borne.

Counſal.

Bot ȝe may knaw my Lord Sanct Pauls intent,

Schir red ȝe never the New teſtament?

Spiritualitie.

Na ſir, be him that our Lord Ieſus ſauld,

I red never the New teſtament nor auld.

Nor ever thinks to do ſir be the Rude,

I heir freiris ſay that reiding dois na gude.

Counſell.

Till ȝow to reid them I think it is na lack,

For anis I ſaw them baith bund on ȝour back:

That ſamin day that ȝe was conſecrat,

Sir, quhat meinis that?

[] Spiritualitie.

The feind ſtick them that wat.

Merchant.

Then befoir God how can ȝe be excuſit?

To haif ane office and waits not how to vſus it.

Quhairfoir war gifin ȝow all the temporal lands?

And all thir teinds ȝe haif amang ȝour hands.

Thay war giuin ȝow for vther cauſſes I weine,

Nor mummil matins and hald ȝour clayis cleine.

Ȝe ſay to the Appoſtils that ȝe ſucceid,

Bot ȝe ſchaw nocht that into word nor deid.

The law is plaine▪ our teinds ſuld furniſch teichours:

Counſ.

Ȝea that it ſould, or ſuſteine prudent preichours.

Pauper.

Sir God nor I be ſtickit with ane knyfe,

Gif ever our Perſoun preichit in all his lyfe.

Perſone.

Quhat devil raks the of our preiching vndocht?

Pauper.

Think ȝe that ȝe ſuld hauehave the teinds for nocht?

Perſone.

Trowis thou to get remeid carle of that thing?

[] Pauper.

Ȝea be Gods breid richt ſone war I ane King.

Perſone.

Wald thou of Prelats mak deprivatioun?

Pauper.

Na I ſuld gar them keip thair fundatioun,

Quhat devill is this, quhom of ſould Kings ſtand aw?

To do the thing that thay ſould be the law.

War I ane King be coks deir paſſioun,

I ſould richt ſone mak reformatioun.

Failȝeand thairof ȝour grace ſould richt ſone finde,

That Preiſts ſall leid ȝow lyke ane bellie blinde▪

Iohne.

Quhat gif King David war leiuand in thir dayis?

The quhilk did found ſa mony gay Abayis:

Or out of heavin quhat gif he luikit doun?

And ſaw the great abominatioun:

Amang thir Abeſſes and thir Nunries,

Thair publick huirdomes and thair harlotries,

He wald repent he narrowit ſa his bounds,

Of ȝeirlie rent thrieſ coir of thowſand pounds.

His ſucceſſours maks litill ruiſſe I ges,

Of his devotioun or of his holines.

Abbaſſe.

How dar thou carle preſume for to declair,

Or for to mell the with ſa heich a mater?

For in Scotland thair did ȝit never ring,

I let the wit ane mair excellent King.

Of holines he was the verie plant,

p. 102And now in heavin he is ane michtfull Sanct.

Becaus that fyftein Abbaſies he did found,

Quhair throw great riches hes ay done abound

Into our Kirk and daylie ȝit abunds,

Bot kings now I trow few Abbaſies founds.

I dar weill ſay thou art condempnit in hel,

That dois preſume with ſic maters to mell.

Fals huirſun carle thou art ovir arrogant,

To iudge the deids of ſic ane halie Sanct.

Iohne.

King Iames the firſt Roy of this Regioun,

Said that he was ane ſair Sanct to the croun.

I heir men ſay that the was ſumthing blind,

That gaue away mair nor he left behind.

His ſucceſſours that halines did repent,

Quhilk gart them do great inconvenient.

Abbas.

My Lord Biſhop I mervel how that ȝe,

Suffer this carle for to ſpeik hereſie?

Forbe my faith my Lord will ȝe tak tent,

He ſervis for to be brunt incontinent.

Ȝe can nocht ſay bot it is hereſie,

To ſpeik againſt our law and libertie.

Spritualitie.

Sancte pater I mak ȝow ſupplicatioun,

Exame ȝon carle, ſyne mak his dilatioun:

I mak ane vow to God omnipotent,

That byſtour ſalbe brunt incontinent.

Venerabill father I ſall do ȝour command,

Gif he ſeruis deid I ſall ſune vnderſtand. Pauſa.

Fals huirſun carle ſchaw furth thy faith,

Iohne.

Me think ȝe ſpeik as ȝe war wraith,

To ȝow I will nathing declair,

For ȝe ar nocht my ordinair▪

Elat.

Quhom in trowis thou fals monſter mangit?

p. 103Iohne.

I trow to God to ſe the hangit:

War I ane King be coks paſſioun,

I ſould gar mak ane congregatioun,

Of all the freirs of the four ordouris,

And mak ȝow vagers on the bordours,

Schir will ȝe giuegive me audience,

And I ſall ſchaw ȝour excellence:

Sa that ȝour grace will giuegive me leife

How into God that I beleife.

Corr.

Schaw furth ȝour faith and fein ȝe nocht.

Iohne.

I beleife in God that all hes wrocht,

And creat everie thing of nocht.

And in his Son our Lord Ieſu,

Incarnat of the Virgin trew:

Quha vnderunder Pilat tholit paſſioun,

And deit for our Salvatioun.

And on the thrid day rais againe,

As halie ſcriptour ſchawis plane.

And als my Lord it is weill kend,

How he did to the heavin aſcend:

And ſet him doun at the richt hand,

Of God the father I vnderſtand.

And ſall cum iudge on Dumiſday,

Quhat will ȝe mair ſir that I ſay?

Correctioun

Schaw furth the reſt, this is na game.

Iohne.

I trow Sanctam Eccleſiam,

Bot nocht in thir Biſchops nor thir Freirs,

Quhilk will for purging of thir neirs.

[] Sard vp the ta raw and doun the vther,

The mekill Devill reſaue the fidder.

Correctioun.

Say quhat ȝe will ſirs be Sanct Tan,

Me think Iohne ane gude Chriſtian man.

p. 104Temporalitie.

My Lords let be ȝour diſputatioun,

Conclude with firme deliberaioun.

How Prelats fra thyne ſall be diſponit:

Merch.

I think for me evin as ȝe firſt proponit.

That the Kings grace ſall gif na benefice,

Bot till ane peichour that can vſe that office.

The ſillie ſauls that bene Chriſtis ſcheip,

Sould nocht be givin to gormand wolfis to keip.

Quhat bene the caus of all the hereſies,

Bot the abuſioun of the prelacies?

Thay will correct and will nocht be correctit:

Thinkand to na prince thay will be ſubiectit.

Quhairfoir I can find na better remeid,

Bot that thir kings man take it in thair heid.

That thair be giuen to na man biſchopries,

Except thay preich out throch thair dioſies.

And ilk perſone priech in his parochon,

And this I ſay for finall concluſion.

Tempora.

Wee think ȝour counſall is verie gude,

As ȝe hauehave ſaid wee all conclude.

Of this concluſioun Noter wee mak ane act:

Scrybe.

I wryte all day bot gets never ane plack.

Pauper.

Och, my Lords for the halie Trinitie,

Remember to reforme the conſiſtorie,

It hes mair neid of reformatioun,

Nor Ploutois court ſir be coks paſſioun.

Perſ.

Quhat caus hes thou fals pellour for to pleinȝe

Quhair was ȝe ever ſummond to thair ſeinȝe?

Pa.

Marie I lent my goſſop my mear to fecth hame coills

And he hir drounit into the querrell hollis.

And I ran to the Conſiſtorie for to pleinȝe,

p. 105And thair I happinit amang ane greidie meinȝe.

Thay gaue me firſt ane thing thay call citandum,

Within aucht dayis I gat bot lybellandum▪

Within ane monethmonth I gat ad opponendum,

In half ane ȝeir I gat interloquendum,

And ſyne I gat, how call ȝe it? ad replicandum:

Bot I could never ane word ȝit vnderſtand him.

And than thay gart me caſt out many plackis,

And gart me pay for four and twentie actis.

Bot or thay came half gait to concludendum,

The feind ane plack was left for to defend him.

Thus thay poſtponit me twa ȝeir with thair traine,

Syne hodie ad octo bad me cum againe.

And than thir ruiks thay roupit wonder faſt,

For ſentence ſilver thay cry it at the laſt.

Of pronunciandum thay maid me wonder faine,

Bot I gat never my gude gray meir againe.

Temp.

My Lords we mon reforme thir conſiſtory lawis,

Quhais great defame aboue the heavins blawis.

I wiſt ane man in perſewing ane kow,

Or he had done he ſpendit half ane bow.

Sa that the kings honour wee may avance,

Wee will conclude, as thay hauehave done in France.

Let Sprituall maters pas to Spritualitie,

And Temporall maters to Temporalitie.

Quha failȝeis of this ſall coſt them of thair gude,

Scribe mak ane act, for ſa wee will conclude.

Spritualitie.

That act my Lords plainlie I will declait,

It is again is our profeit ſingulair.

Wee will nocht want our profeit be Sanct Geill.

Temporalitie Ȝour profeit is againſt the Common weil

It ſalbe done my Lords as ȝe hauehave wrocht,

p. 106We cure nocht quhidder ȝe conſent or nocht.

Quhairfoir ſervis then all thir Temporall Iudges?

Gif temporall maters ſould ſeik at ȝow refuges.

My Lord ȝe ſay that ȝe ar Sprituall,

Quhairfoir mell ȝe than with things temporall?

As we hauehave done conclude ſa ſall it ſtand,

Scribe put our Acts in ordour evin fra hand.

Spritualitie.

Till all ȝour acts plainlie I diſaſſent,

Notar thairof I tak ane inſtrument.

Heir ſall Veritie and Chaſtitie mak thair plaint at the bar.

Veritie.

My Soverane I beſeik ȝour excellence,

Vſe Iuſtice on Spritualitie:

The quhilk to vsus hes done great violence,

Becaus we did rehers the veritie.

Thay put vsus cloſe into Captivitie,

And ſa remanit into ſubiectioun:

Into great langour and calamitie,

Till we war fred be King Correctioun.

Chaſt.

My lord I haif great caus for to complaine,

I could get na ludging intill this land:

The Spirituall ſtait had me ſa at diſdane,

With Dame Senſuall thay hauehave maid ſic ane band.

Amang them all na freindſchip ſirs I fand,

And quhen I came the nobill innis amang,

My Iuſtie Ladie Priores fra hand:

Out of hir do rtour durlie ſcho me dang.

Veritie.

With the advyſe ſir of the Parliament,

Hairtlie we mak ȝow ſupplicatioun:

Cauſe King Correctioun tak incontinent,

Of all this ſort examinatioun.

Gif thay be digne of deprivatioun,

Ȝe hauehave power for to correct ſic caſes:

p. 107Cheaſe the maiſt cunning Clerks of this natioun,

And put mair prudent paſtours in thair places.

My prudent Lords I ſay that pure craftſmen,

Abufe ſum Prelats ar mair for to commend:

Gar exame them and ſa ȝe ſall ſune ken,

How thay in vertew Biſchops dois tranſcend.

Scribe.

Thy life and craft mak to thir Kings kend,

Quhat craft hes thow declair that to me plaine?

Tail.

Ane tailȝour ſir that▪can baith mak and mend,

I wait nane better into Dumbartane.

¶Scri.

Quhairfoir of tailȝeours beirs thou the ſtyl?

Tailȝeour.

Becaus I wait is nane within ane myll,

Can better vſe that craft as I ſuppois:

For I can mak baith doublit coat and hois.

Scri.

How cal thay ȝou ſir with the ſchaiping knife?

Sowtar.

Ane ſowtar ſir, nane better into Fyfe.

Scribe.

Tel me quhairfoir ane ſowtar ȝe ar namit?

Sowtar.

Of that ſurname I neld nocht be aſchamit.

For I can mak ſchone brotekins and buittis,

Gif me the coppie of the Kings cuittis.

And ȝe ſall ſe richt ſune quhat I can do:

Heir is my laſts and weill wrocht ledder lo▪

Counſ.

O Lord my God this is an mervelous thing

How ſic miſordour in this Realme ſould ring.

Sowtars and tailȝe ours thay ar far mair expert

In thair pure craft and in thair handie art,

Nor ar our Prelatis in thair vocatioun:

I pray ȝow ſirs mak reformatioun.

Verit.

Alace, alace, quhat gars thir temporal Kings

Into the Kirk of Chriſt admit ſic doings?

My Lords for lufe of Chriſts paſſioun,

Of thir ignorants mak depriuatioun.

p. 108Quhilk in the court can▪do bot flatter and fleich,

And put into thair places that can preich.

Send furth and ſeik ſum devoit cunning Clarks,

That can ſteir vp the peopill to gude warks.

Correctioun.

As ȝe hauehave done, Madame I am content,

Hoaw Diligence pas hynd incontinent.

And ſeik out throw all towns and cities:

And viſie all the vniverſities.

Bring vsus ſum Doctours of Divinitie.

VVith licents in the law and Theologie.

VVith the maiſt cunning Clarks in all this land,

Speid ſune ȝour way and bring them heir fra hand.

Diligence.

Quhat gif I find ſum halie provinciall?

Or miniſter of the gray freiris all?

Or ony freir that can preich prudentlie,

Sall I bring them with me in cumpanie?

Correction.

Cair thou nocht quhat eſtait ſa ever he be,

Sa thay can teich and preich the veritie,

Maiſt cunning Clarks with vsus is beſt beluifit,

To dignitie thay ſalbe firſt promuifit.

Quhidder thay be Munk, Channon, Preiſt or Freir,

Sa thay can preich faill nocht to bring them heir.

Diligence.

Than fair-weill ſir, for I am at the flicht,

I pray the Lord to ſend ȝow all gude nicht.

Heir ſall Diligence pas to the palȝeoun.

¶Temporalitie.

Sir we beſeik ȝour ſoverane celſitude,

Of our dochtours to hauehave compaſſioun:

Quhom wee may na way marie be the Rude,

Without wee mak ſum alienatioun

Of our land for thair ſupportatioun,

For quhy? the markit raiſit bene ſa hie

That Prelats dochtours of this natioun,

p. 109Ar maryit with ſic ſuperfluitie:

Thay will nocht ſpair to gif twa thowſand pound,

With thair dochtours to ane nobill man:

In riches ſa thay do ſuperabound.

Bot we may nocht do ſa be Sanct Allane,

Thir proud Prelats our dochters ſair▪ may ban;

That thay remaine at hame ſa lang vnmaryit:

Schir let ȝour Barrouns do the beſt thay can,

Sum of our dochtours I dreid ſalbe miſcaryit.

¶Correct.

My Lord ȝour complaint is richt reſſonabill,

And richt ſa to our dochtours profitabill:

I think or I pas aff this natioun,

Of this mater till mak reformatioun.

Heir ſall enter common thift.

Thift.

¶Ga by the gait man, let me gang,

[] How Devill came I into this thrang:

With ſorrow I may ſing my ſang,

And I be taine:

For I hauehave run baith nicht and day,

Throw ſpeid of fut I gat away,

Gif I be kend heir, wallaway

I will be ſlaine.

Pauper.

Quhat is thy name man be thy thrift?

Thift.

Huirſun thay call me common thift:

For quhy I had na vther ſchift,

Sen I was borne,

In Euſdaill was my dwelling place,

Mony ane wyfe gart▪ I cry alace:

At my hand thay gat never grace,

Bot ay for lorne.

Sum ſay is ane king is cum amang vsus,

p. 110That purpoſis to head and hang vsus:

Thair is na grace gif he may fang vsus

Bot on an pin.

Ring he, we theifiswill get na gude,

I pray God and the halie Rude,

He had bene ſmoird into his cude,

And all his kin.

Get this curſt King me in his grippis,

My craig will wit quhat weyis my hippist

The Devill I gif his toung and lippis,

That of me tellis:

Adew I dar na langer tarie:

For be I kend thay will me carie,

And put me in ane ſierie farie,

I ſe nocht ellis.

I raife be him that herryit hell,

I had almaiſt forȝet my ſell:

Will na gude fallow to me tell,

Quhair I may finde

The Earle of Rothus beſt haiknay,

That was my earand heir away:

He is richt ſtarck as I heir ſay

And ſwift as winde.

Heir is my brydill and my ſpurris,

To gar him lance ovir land and furris:

Micht I him get to Ewis durris, I tak na cuir:

Of that hors micht I get ane ſicht,

I haife na doubt ȝit or midnicht,

That he and I ſould tak the flicht

Throch Dyſert mure.

Of cumpanarie tell me brother,

Quhilk is the richt way to the Strother,

p. 111I wald be welcum to my mother,

Gif I micht ſpeid:

I wald gif baith my coat and bonet,

To get my Lord Lindeſay is broun Ionet:

War he beȝond the watter of Annet,

We ſould nocht dreid.

Quhat now Oppreſſioun my maiſter deir?

Quhat mekill Devill hes brocht ȝow heir?

Maiſter tell me the caus perqueir,

Quhat is that ȝe hauehave done?

Oppreſſioun.

Forſuith the kings maieſtie,

Hes ſet me heir as ȝe may ſe:

Micht I ſpeik Temporalitie,

He wald me releife ſone.

I beſeik ȝow my brother deir,

Bot halfe ane houre for to ſit heir:

Ȝe knaw that I was never ſweir,

Ȝow to defend:

Put in ȝour leg into my place,

And heir I ſweir be Gods grace,

Ȝow to releife within ſchort ſpace,

Syne let ȝow wend.

Thift.

Than maiſter deir gif me ȝour hand,

And mak to me ane faithfull band,

That ȝe ſall cum agane fra hand

Withoutin faill:

Oppreſſioun.

Tak thair my hand richt faithfullie

Als I promit the verelie,

To gif to the ane cuppill of kye

In Liddiſdaill.

Thift puts his legs in the ſtockis.

Haif I nocht maid ane honeſt ſchift,

That hes betraſit common Thift?

p. 112For thair is nocht vnderunder the lift,

Ane curſter cors:

I am richt ſure that he and I,

Within this halȝeir craftely

Hes ſtolne ane thowſand ſcheip and ky,

By meiris and hors.

Wald God I war baith ſound and haill,

Now liftit into Liddiſdaill

The Mers ſould find me beif and kaill,

Quhat rak of bread:

War I thair liftit with my lyfe,

The Devill ſould ſtick me with ane knyfe

And ever I come againe to Fyfe,

Quhill I war dead.

Adew I leife the Devill amang ȝow,

That in his fingers he may fang ȝow:

With all leill men that dois belang ȝow,

For I may rew:

That ever I came into this land,

For quhy ȝe may weill vnderſtand,

I gat na geir to turne my hand:

Ȝit anis adew.

Heir ſall Diligence conuoy the thrie Clarks.

¶Dilig.

Sir, I hauehave brocht vntounto ȝour Excellence,

Thir famous Clarks of greit intelligence:

For to the common peopill thay can preich,

And in the Scuilis in Latine toung can teich▪

This is ane Doctour of Divinitie,

And thir twa Licents men of gravitie.

I heare men ſay thair converſatioun,

Is maiſt in Divine Contemplatioun,

Doctour.

p. 113Grace, peace and reſt from the hie Trinitie,

Mot reſt amang this godlie cumpanie:

Heir ar we cumde as ȝour obedients,

For to fulfill ȝour iuſt commandements.

Quhat euir it pleaſe ȝour Grace vsus to command,

Sir, it ſall be obeyit euin fra-hand.

Rex.

Gud freinds ȝe ar richt welcome to vsus all,

Sit doun all thrie and geif vsus ȝour counſall.

¶Cor.

Sir I giuegive ȝow baith counſal & cōmand,

In ȝour office vſe exercitioun:

Firſt that ȝe gar ſearch out throch all ȝour land,

Quha can nocht put to executioun

Thair office efter the inſtitutioun,

Of godlie lawis, conforme to thair vocatioun:

Put in thair places men of gude conditioun,

And this ȝe do without dilatioun.

Ȝe ar the head ſir of this congregatioun,

Preordinat be God omnipotent:

Quhilk hes me ſend to mak ȝow ſupportatioun,

Into the quhilk I ſalbe diligent.

And quha ſaever beis inobedient,

And will nocht ſuffer for to be correctit,

Thay ſalbe all depoſit incontinent,

And from ȝour preſence they ſall be deiectit.

Counſall.

Begin firſt at the Spritualitie,

And tak of them examinatioun,

Gif they can vſe their divyne dewetie,

And als I mak ȝow ſupplicatioun,

All thay that hes thair offices miſvſit,

Of them make haiſtie depriuatioun:

Sa that the peopill be na mair abuſit.

p. 114¶Correctioun.

Ȝe ar ane Prince of Spritualitie.

How hauehave ȝe vſit ȝour office now let ſe?

Spi.

My lords quhen was thair ony Prelats wont,

Of thair office till ony King mak count?

Bot of my office gif ȝe wald hauehave the feill,

I let ȝow wit I hauehave it vſit weill.

For I tak in my count twyſe in the ȝeir,

Wanting nocht of my teind ane boll of beir.

I gat gude payment of my Temporall lands,

My buttock-maill, my coattis and my offrands,

With all that dois perteine my benefice,

Conſider now my Lord gif I be wyſe.

I dar nocht marie contrair the common law,

Ane thing thair is my Lord that ȝe may knaw.

Howbeit I dar nocht plainlie ſpouſe ane wyfe,

Ȝit Concubeins I hauehave had four or fyfe.

And to my ſons I hauehave giuin rich rewairds,

And all my dochters maryit vponupon lairds.

I let ȝow wit my Lord I am na fuill,

For quhy I ryde vponupon ane amland Muill.

Thair is na Temporall Lord in all this land,

That maksſic cheir I let ȝow vnderſtand.

And als my Lord I gif with gude intentioun,

To divers Temporall Lords ane ȝeirlie penſioun

To that intent that thay with all thair hart,

In richt and wrang ſal plainlie tak my part.

Now hauehave I tauld ȝow ſir on my beſt ways,

How that I hauehave exercit my office.

Cor.

I weind ȝour office had bene for til preich,

And Gods law to the peopill teich,

Quhairfoir weir ȝe that mytour ȝe me tell?

Spiritu.

I wat nocht man be him that herryit hel

p. 115Cor.

That dois betakin that ȝe with gude intent,

Sould teich & preich the auld & New teſtament

Spritu.

I hauehave ane freir to preiche into my place,

Of my office ȝe heare na mair quhill Paſche.

Chaſtitie.

My Lords this Abbot and this Priores

Thay ſcorne thair gods, this is my reaſon quhy,

Thay beare an habite of feinȝeit halines,

And in thair deid thay do the contrary:

For to liue chaiſt thay vow ſolemnitly,

Bot fra that thay be ſikker of thair bowis

Thay liue in huirdome and in harlotry,

Examine them Sir, how thay obſerue thair vowis.

Correctioun.

Sir Scribe ȝe ſall at Chaſtities requeiſt

Pas and exame ȝon thrie in gudlie haiſt.

Scribe.

Father Abbot this counſall bids me ſpeir,

How ȝe hauehave vſit ȝour Abbay thay wald heir.

And als thir Kings hes giuin to me commiſſioun,

Of ȝour office for to mak inquiſitioun.

Abbot.

Tuiching my office I ſay to ȝow plainlie,

My Monks and I, we leif richt eaſelie:

Thair is na Monks from Carrick to Carraill

That fairs better and drinks mair helſum Aill.

My Prior is ane man of great devotioun,

Thairfoir daylie he gets ane double portioun.

Scribe.

My Lords how hauehave ȝe keipt ȝour thrie vows

Abbas.

Indeid richt weill till I gat hame my bows.

In my Abbay quhen I was ſure profeſſour,

Then did I leife as did my predeceſſour.

My paramours is baith als fat and fair,

As ony wench into the toun of Air.

I ſend my ſons to Pareis to the ſcullis,

I traiſt in God that thay ſalbe na fuillis,

p. 116And all my douchters I hauehave weill providit,

Now iudge ȝe gif my office be weill gydit.

Scr.

Maiſter Perſon ſchaw vsus gif ȝe can preich?

Per.

Thocht I preich not I can play at the caiche:

I wait thair is nocht ane amang ȝow all,

Mair ferilie can play at the fut ball:

And for the carts the tabils and the dyſe,

Aboue all perſouns I may beir the pryſe.

Our round bonats we mak them now four nuickit

Of richt fyne ſtuiff gif ȝow liſt cum and luikit.

Of my office I hauehave declarit to the,

Speir quhat ȝe pleis, ȝe get na mair of me.

Scribe.

Quhat ſay ȝe now my Ladie Priores?

How hauehave ȝe vſit ȝour office can ȝe ges?

Quhat was the caus ȝe refuſit harbrie?

To this ȝoung luſtie Ladie Chaſtitie.

Prio.

I wald hauehave harborit hir with gude intent,

Bot my complexioun thairto wald not aſſent:

I do my office efter auld vſe and wount,

To ȝour Parliament I will mak na mair count.

Veritie.

Now caus ſum of ȝour cunning Clarks

Quhilk ar expert in heavinlie warks,

And men fulfill it with charitie

That can weill preiche the veritie,

And gifto ſum of them command

Ane ſermon for to make fra-hand.

Correction.

As ȝe hauehave ſaid I am content,

To gar ſum preich incontinent, Pauſa.

Magiſter noſter I ken how ȝe can teiche,

Into the ſcuillis and that richt ornatlie:

I pray ȝow now that ȝe wald pleaſe to preiche,

In Ingliſch toung, land folk to edifie.

p. 117Doctour.

Soverane I ſall obey ȝow humbillie,

With ane ſchort ſermon preſentlie in this place:

And ſchaw the word of God vnfeinȝeitlie,

And ſinceirlie as God will giuegive me grace.

Heir ſall the Doctour pas to the pulpit and ſay.

Si vis ad vitam ingredi ſerva mandata.

Devoit peopill Sanct Paull the preichour ſayis,

The fervent luife and father lie pitie,

Quhilk God almichtie hes ſchawin mony wayis

To man in his corrupt fragilitie,

Exceids all luife in earth, ſa far that we

May never to God mak recompence conding

As quhaſa liſts to reid the veritie,

In halie Scripture he may find this thing.

Sic Deus dilexit mundum.

Tuiching nathing the great prerogatiue,

Quhilk God to man in his creatioun lent:

How man of nocht creat ſuperlatiue

Was to the Image of God omnipotent

Let vsus conſider that ſpeciall luife ingent,

God had to man quhen our foir-father fell,

Drawing vsus all in his loynis immanent,

Captive from gloir in thirlage to the hel.

Quhen Angels fell, thair miſerabil ruyne

Was never reſtorit: bot for our miſerie,

The Sun of God ſecund perſone divyne,

In ane pure Virgin tuke humanitie:

Syne for our ſaik great harmis ſuffered he

In faſting, walking, in preiching, cauld and heit,

And at the laſt ane ſchamefull death deit he,

Betwix twa theifis on Croce he ȝeild the Spreit:

And quhair an drop of his maiſt precious blude

p. 118Was recompence ſufficient and conding,

Ane thowſand warlds to ranſoun from that wod

Infernall feind, Sathan, notwithſtanding

He luifit vsus ſa, that for our ranſoning,

He ſched furth all the blude of his bodie,

Riven rent and ſair wondit quhair he did hing,

Naild on the Croce on the Mont Calvary.

Et copioſa apud eum redemptio.

O cruell death, be the the venemous

Dragon, the Devill infernall loſt his pray:

Be the the ſtinkand, mirk, contageous,

Deip pit of hell mankynd eſcaipit fray.

Be the the port of Paradice alſway

Was patent maid vntounto the heavin ſa hie:

Opinnit to man and maid ane reddie way,

To gloir eternall with th'haly Trinitie.

And ȝit for all thisluife incomparabill,

God askis na rewaird fra vsus againe

Bot luife for luife: in his command but fabill,

Conteinit ar all haill the lawis ten:

Baith ald and new and commandements ilk ane,

Luife bene the ledder quhilk hes bot ſteppis twa:

Be quhilk we may clim vp to lyfe againe,

Out of this vaill of miſerie and wa.

Diliges Dominum Deum tuum ex toto corde tuo & proximum tuum ſicut teipſum: in his duobus mandatis. &c.

The firſt ſtep ſuithlie of this ledder is,

To luife thy God as the fontaine and well

Of luife and grace: and the ſecund I wis,

To luife thy nichtbour as thou luifis thy ſell,

Quha tynis ane ſtop of thir twa gais to hel,

Bot he repent and turne to Chriſt anone,

p. 119Hauld this na fabill, the halie Evangell

Bears in effect thir words everie one.

Si vis ad vitam ingredi ſerva mandata Dei.

Thay tyne thir ſteps all thay quha ever did ſin

In pryde, invy, in ire and lecherie:

In covetice or ony extreme win,

Into ſweirnes or into gluttonie.

Or quha dois nocht the deids of merciemercy,

Gif hungrie meit and gif the naikit clayis.

Perſ.

Now walloway thinks thou na ſchame to lie▪

[] I trow the Devill a word is trew thou ſayis:

Thou ſayis thair is bot twa ſteppis to the heavin

Quha failȝeis them man backwarts fall in hell,

I wait it is ten thowſand mylis and ſevin

Gif it be na mair, I do it vponupon thy ſell.

Schort leggit men I ſe be Bryds bell,

Will nevir cum thair, thay ſteppis bene ſa wyde:

Gif thay be the words of the Evangell,

The Sprituall men hes miſter of ane gyde.

Abbot.

And I beleif that cruikit men and blinde,

Sall neuer get vp vponupon ſa hich ane ledder:

By my gude faith I dreid to ly behinde,

Without God draw me vp into ane tedder.

Quhat and I fal, than I will break my bledder:

[] And I cum thair this day the Devill ſpeid me:

Except God make me lichter nor ane fedder,

Or ſend me doun gude Widcok wingis to flie.

Perſone.

Cum doun daſtart and gang ſell draiff,

I vnderſtand nocht quhat thow ſaid.

Thy words war nather corne nor caiff,

I wald thy toung againe war laide▪

Quhair thou ſayis pryde is deidlie ſin,

p. 120I ſay pryde is bot honeſtie.

And Covetice of warldlie win

Is bot wiſdome, I ſay for me.

Ire, hardines and gluttonie,

Is nathing ellis but lyfis fude:

The naturall ſin of lecherie

Is bot trew luife, all thir ar gude.

Doctor.

God and the Kirk hes giuin command,

That all gude Chriſtian men refuſe them:

Perſone.

Bot war thay ſin I vnderſtand,

We men of Kirk wald never vſe them.

Doctour.

Brother I pray the Trinitie,

Ȝour faith and charitie to ſupport:

Cauſand ȝow knaw the veritie,

That ȝe ȝour ſubiects may comfort.

To ȝour prayers peopill I recommend,

The rewlars of this nobill regioun:

That our Lord God his grace mot to them ſend,

On treſpaſſours to mak punitioun.

Prayand to God from feinds ȝow defend,

And of ȝour ſins to gif ȝow full remiſſioun:

I ſay na mair, to God I ȝow commend.

Heir Diligence ſpyis the freir roundand to the Prelate

¶ Dili.

My lords, I perſaue that the Sprituall ſtait,

Be way of deid purpois to mak debait:

For be the counſall of ȝon flattrand freir,

Thay purpois to mak all this toun on ſteir.

Firſt Licent.

Traiſt ȝe that thay wilbe inobedient,

To that quhilkis▪ decreitit in Parliament?

Diligen.

Thay ſe the Paip with awfull ordinance

Makis weir againſt the michtie King of France:

p. 121Richt ſa thay think that prelats ſuld nocht ſunȝie

Be way of deid defend thair patrimonie.

Firſt Lice.

I pray the brother gar me vnderſtand,

Quhair ever Chriſt poſſeſſit ane fut of land.

Diligence.

Ȝea that he did father withoutin fail,

For Chriſt Ieſus was King of Iſraell.

Fir. Li.

I grant that chriſt was king abuſe al kings

Bot he mellit never with temporall things:

As he hes plain lie done declair him ſell,

As thou may reid in his halie Evangell.

Birds hes thair neſts, and tods hes thair den,

Bot Chriſt Ieſus the Saviour of men

In all this warld hes nocht ane penny braid,

Quhair on he may repois his heavinlie head.

Diligence.

And is that trew?—

—Ȝes brother be Alhallows:

Chriſt Ieſus had na propertie bot the gallows.

And left not quhen he ȝeildit vp the Spreit,

To by himſelf ane ſimpill winding ſcheit.

Diligence.

Chriſts ſucceſſours I vnderſtand,

Thinks na ſchame to hauehave temporall land.

Father thay hauehave na will I ȝow aſſure,

In this warld to be indigent and pure:

Bot ſir ſen ȝe ar callit ſapient,

Declair to me the caus with trew intent▪

Quhy that my luſtie Ladie Veritie,

Hes nocht bene weill treatit in this cuntrie?

Batcheler.

¶ Forſuith quhair Prelats vſes the counſall

Of beggand freirs in monie regioun,

And thay Prelats with Princes principall,

The veritie but doubt is trampit doun.

p. 123And Common-weill put to confuſioun.

Gif this be trew to ȝow I me report:

Thairfoir my Lords mak reformatioun,

Or ȝe depart hairtlie I ȝow exhort:

Sirs, freirs wald never I ȝow aſſure,

That ony Prelats vſit preiching:

And Prelats tuke on them that cure,

Freirs wald get nathing for thair fleiching.

¶Thairfoir I counſall ȝow fra hand,

Baniſche ȝon freir out of this land,

And that incontinent:

Do ȝe nocht ſa withoutin weir,

He will mak all this toun on ſteir,

I knaw his fals intent.

Ȝon Priores withoutin fabill,

I think ſcho is nocht profitabill,

For Chriſtis regioun.

To begin reformatioun,

Mak of them deprivatioun,

This is my opinioun.

Firſt Serge.

Sir pleis ȝe that we twa invaid them,

And ȝe ſall ſe vsus ſone degraid them,

Of coill and chaplarie?

Correctioun.

Pas on Iam richt weill content,

Syne baniſche them incontinent

Out of this cuntrie.

Firſt Sergeant.

Cum on ſir freir and be nocht fleyit,

The King our maiſter mon be obeyit,

Bot ȝe ſall hauehave na harme:

Gif ȝe wald travell fra toun to toun,

I think this hude and heauie goun

Will hald ȝour wambe ovir warme▪

Flat.

Freir Now quhat is this that thir monſter meins?

I am exemptit fra Kings and Queens,

And fra all humane law:

Secund Sergeant.

Tak ȝe the hude and I the gown,

This limmer luiks als lyke ane lown,

As any that ever I ſaw.

Firſt Sergeant.

Thir freirs to chaip punitioun,

Haulds them at their exemptioun,

And na man will obey:

Thay ar exempt I ȝow aſſure,

Baith fra Paip, kyng and Empreour,

And that maks all the pley.

¶Secund Sergeant.

On Dumiſday quhen Chriſt ſall ſay

Venite benedicti:

The Freirs will ſay without delay

Nos ſumus exempts.

Heir ſall thay ſpuilȝe Flattrie of the Freirs habite.

Gude-counſell.

Sir be the halie Trinite,

This ſame is feinȝeit Flattrie,

I ken him be his face:

Beleiuand for to get promotioun,

He ſaid that his name was Devotioun,

And ſa be gylit ȝour grace,

¶Firſt Sergeant.

Cum on my Ladie Priores,

We ſall leir ȝow to dance:

And that within ane lytill ſpace,

Ane new pavin of France.

Heir ſall thay ſpuilȝe the Priores and ſcho ſall hauehave ane kirtill of ſilk vnderunder hir habite.

Now brother be the Maſſe,

Be my iudgement I think

This halie Priores

p. 124Is turnit in ane cowclink.

¶Priores.

I gif my freinds my maliſoun,

That me compellit to be ane Nun

And wald nocht let me marie:

It was my freinds greadines,

That gart me be ane Priores,

Now hartlie them I warie.

Howbeit that Nunnis ſing nichts and dayis,

Thair hart waitis nocht quhat thair mouth ſayis

The ſuith I ȝow declair:

Makand ȝow intimatioun,

To Chriſtis congregatioun,

Nunnis ar nocht neceſſair▪

Bot I ſall do the beſt I can,

And marie ſum gude honeſt man,

And brew gude aill and tun:

Mariage be my opinioun,

It is better Religoun,

As to be freir or Nun.

Flat. fre.

My Lords for Gods ſaik let not hang me

Howbeit that widdiefows wald wrang me

I can mak na debait:

To win my meat at pleuch nor harrowis,

Bot I ſall help to hang my marrowis,

Baith Falſet and Diſſait.

Correct.

Than pas thy way & greath the gallous

Syne help for to hang vp thy fellow is,

Thou gets na vther grace:

Of that office I am content,

Bot our Prelates I dread repent,

Be I fleimde from thair face.

Heir ſall Flattrie ſit beſyde his marrowis.

p. 125Diſſait.

Now Flattrie my auld companȝeoun,

Quhat dois ȝon King Correctioun?

Knawis thou nocht his intent?

Declair to vsus of thy novellis:

Ȝe'ile all be hangit, I ſe nocht ellis,

And that incontinent.

Diſſait.

Now walloway will ȝe gar hang vsus?

[] ſhe Devill brocht ȝon curſt king amang vsus,

For mekill ſturt and ſtryfe:

Flattrie.

I had bene put to deid amang ȝow,

War nocht I tuke on hand till hang ȝow,

And ſa I ſaiſit my lyſe.

I heir them ſay thay will cry doun,

All freirs and Nunnis in this Regioun,

Sa far as I can feill:

Becaus thay ar nocht neceſſair,

And als thay think thay ar contrair,

To Iohne the common-weill.

Heir ſal the Kings and the temporal ſtait round togider.

Correcti.

With the advice of King Humanitie,

Heir I determine with rype advyſement,

That all thir Prelats ſall deprivit be,

And be decreit of this preſent Paliament,

That thir thrie cunning Clarks ſapient

Immediatlie thair places ſall poſſes:

Becaus that thay hauehave bene ſa negligent,

Suffring the word of God for till decres.

¶Rex Hu.

As ȝe hauehave ſaid but dout it ſalbe done,

Pas to and mak this interchainging ſone.

The Kings ſervants lay hands on the thrie prelats & ſays.

Wanton.

My Lords we pray ȝow to be patient,

For we will do the Kings commandement.

p. 126Spritualitie.

I mak ane vow to God and ȝe vsus handill,

Ȝe ſallbe curſt and gragit with buik and candill:

Syne we ſall pas vntounto the Palp and pleinȝie,

And to the Devill of hell condemne this meinȝe▪

For quhy ſic reformatioun as I weine

Into Scotland was never hard nor ſeine.

Heir ſal thay ſpuilȝe them with ſilence and put thair habite on the thrie Clarks.

Merchant.

We mervell of ȝow paintit ſepulturis,

That was ſa bauld for to accept ſic cuiris.

VVith glorious habit rydand vponupon ȝour Muillis,

Now men may ſe ȝe ar bot verie fuillis.

Sprituali.

We ſay the Kings war greiter fuillis nor we

That vsus promovit to ſa greit dignitie.

Abbot.

Thair is ane thowſand in the kirk but doubt,

Sic fuillis as'we gif thay war weill ſocht out,

Now brother ſen it may na better be,

Let vsus gaſoup with Senſualitie.

Heir ſall thay pas to Senſualitie.

Spritua.

Madame I pray ȝow mak vsus thrie gude cheir,

We cure nocht to remaine with ȝow all ȝeir.

Senſualitie.

Pas fra vsus fuillis be him that hes vsus wrocht

Ȝe ludge nocht heir, becaus I knaw ȝow nocht.

Spritualitie.

Sir Covetice will ȝe alſo misken me?

I wait richt weill ȝe wil baith gif and len me:

Speid hand my freind ſpair nocht to break the lockis,

Gif me ane thowſand crouns out of my box.

Covetice.

Quhairfoit ſir fuil gif ȝow ane thowſand crowns▪

Ga hence ȝe ſeime to be thrie verie lowns.

Spritualitie.

I ſe nocht els brother withoutin faill,

Bot this fals warld is turnit top ouir taill:

Senall is vaine that is vnderunder the lift,

p. 127To win our meat we man make vther ſchift.

With our labour except we mak debait,

I dreid full ſair we want baith drink and meat.

Perſone.

Gif with our labour we man vsus defend,

Then let vsus gang quhair we war never kend.

Spritualitie.

I wyte thir freirs that I am thus abuſit,

For by thair counſall I hauehave bene confuſit.

Thay gart me trow it ſuffyſit▪ allace,

To gar them plainlie preich into my place.

Abbot.

Allace, this reformatioun I may warie,

For I hauehave ȝit twa dochters for to marie▪

And thay ar baith contractit be the Rude,

And waits nocht how to pay thair tocher-gude.

[] Perſ.

The Devill mak cair for this vnhappie chance,

For I am ȝoung and thinks to pas to France.

And tak wages amang the men of weir,

And win my living with my ſword and ſpeir.

The Biſchop, Abbot, perſone, and Priores depaires altogidder.

Gude-counſall.

Or ȝe depairt ſir aff this Regioun,

Gif Iohne the Common-weill ane gay garmoun:

Becaus the Common-weill hes bene overluikit,

That is the caus that Common-weill is cruikit.

With ſingular profeit he hes bene ſa ſuppryſit,

That he is baith cauld, naikit and diſgyſit.

Correctioun.

As ȝe hauehave ſaid father I am content,

Sergeants gif Iohne ane new abuilȝement.

Of Sating, Damais or of the Velvot fyne,

And gif him place in our Parliament ſyne.

Heir ſal thay cleith Iohne the common-weil gorgeouſlie and ſet him doun amang them in the Parliament.

¶All verteous peopil now may be reioiſit,

Sen Common-weill hes gottin ane gay garmoun:

p. 128And ignorants out of the Kirk depoſit,

Devoit Doctours and Clarks of renoun

Now in the Kirk ſall hauehave dominioun:

And Gude-counſall with Ladie Veritie

Ar profeſt with our kings Maieſtie.

Bliſt is that Realme that hes ane prudent King,

Quhilk dois delyte to heir the veritie,

Puniſching tha me that plainlie dois maling,

Contrair the Common-weill and equitie.

Thair may na peopill hauehave proſperitie,

Quhair ignorance hes the dominioun,

And cōmon-weil be tirants trampit doun. Pauſa.

Now maiſters ȝe ſall heir incontinent,

At great leyſour in ȝour preſence proclamit

The Nobill Acts of our Parliament,

Of quhilks we neid nocht for to be aſchamit▪

Cum heir trumpet & ſound ȝour warning tone

That every man may knaw quhat he hauehave done.

Heir ſall Diligence with the Scribe and the trumpet pas to the pulpit and proclame the Actis.

The firſt Act.

IT is devyſit be thir prudent Kings,

Correctioun and King Humanitie,

That thair Leigis induring all thair Ringis,

With the avyce of the eſtaits thrie

Sall manfullie defend and fortifie

The Kirk of Chriſt and his Religioun,

Without diſſimulance or hypocriſie:

VnderUnder the paine of thair punitioun.

2.

Als thay will that the Acts honorabill,

Maid be our Prince in the laſt Parliament,

Becaus thay ar baith gude and profitabill,

p. 129Thay willl that everie man be diligent

Them till obſerve with vnſeinȝeit intent.

Quha diſobey is inobedientlie

Be thair law is but doubt thay ſall repent▪

And painis conteinit thairin ſall vnderly.

3.

And als the Common-weil for til advance,

It is ſtatute that all the Temporall lands,

Be ſet in few efter the forme of France

Til verteous men that labours with thair hands▪

Reſonabillie reſtrictit with ſic bands,

That thay do ſervice nevertheles

And to beſubiect ay vnderunder the wands:

That riches may with policie incres.

4.

Item this prudent Parliament hes devyſit,

Gif Lords halds vnderunder thair dominioun

Theifis, quhair throch puir peopil bein ſuppriſit:

For them thay ſall make anſweir to the croun,

And to the pure mak reſtitutioun:

Without thay put them in the iudges hands▪

For thair default to ſuffer punitioun,

Sa that na theifis remaine within thair lands.

5.

To that intent that Iuſtice ſould incres

It is concludit in this Parliament,

That into Elgin or into Innerneſſe

Sall be ane ſute of Clarks ſapient,

Togidder with ane prudent Precident

To do iuſtice in all the Norther Airtis,

Sa equallie without impediment,

That thay neid nocht ſeik iuſtice in thir pairts.

6.

With licence of the Kirks halines,

That iuſtice may be done continuallie,

All the maters of Scotland mair and les,

p. 130To thir twa famous ſaits perpetuallie

Salbe directit, becaus men ſeis plainlie,

Thir wantoun Nunnis ar na way neceſſair,

Till Common-weill nor ȝit to the glorie

Of Chriſts Kirk, thocht thay be fat and fair.

And als that fragill ordour feminine,

Will nocht be miſſit in Chriſts Religioun,

Thair rents vſit till ane better fyne:

For Common-weill of all this Regioun.

Ilk Senature for that erectioun,

For the vphalding of thair gravitie

Sall hauehave fyue hundreth mark of penſioun.

And alſo bot twa ſall thair nummer be

Into the North ſaxteine ſall thair remaine,

Saxtein rycht ſa in our maiſt famous toun

Of Edinburgh to ſerve our Soveraine:

Choſen without partiall affectioun

Of the maiſt cunning Clarks of this Regioun:

Thair Chancellar choſen of ane famous Clark,

Ane cunning man of great perfectioun,

And for his penſioun hauehave ane thowſand mark.

7.

It is devyſit in this Parliament,

From this day furth na mater Temporall

Our new Prelats thairto hes done conſent

Cum befoir Iudges conſiſtoriall,

Quhilk hes bene ſa prolixt and partiall:

To the great hurt of the communitie:

Let Temporall men ſeik Iudges Temporall▪

And Sprituall men to Spritualitie.

8.

Na benefice beis giffin in tyme cumming,

Bot to men of gude eruditioun:

Expert in the halie Scripture and cunning,

p. 131And that thay be of gude conditioun:

Of publick vices but ſuſpitioun,

And qualefiet richt prudentlie to preich,

To thair awin folk baith into land and toun

Or ellis in famous ſcuillis for to teich:

Als becaus of the great pluralitie

Of ignorant Preiſts ma then ane Legioun.

Qi hair throch of Teicheouris the heich dignitie,

Is vilipendit in ilk Regioun▪

Thairfoir our Court hes maid proviſioun,

That na Bſhops mak teichours in tyme cumming:

Except men of gude eruditioun,

And for Preiſtheid qualefeit and cunning▪

Siclyke as ȝe ſe in the borrows toun

Ane Tailȝeour is nocht ſufferit to remaine,

Without he can mak doublet, coat and gown,

He man gang till his prenteiſchip againe:

Biſchops ſould nocht reſſaue me think certaine,

Into the Kirk except ane cunning Clark:

Ane idiot preiſt Eſay compaireth plaine,

Till ane dum dogge that can nocht byte nor bark.

10.

From this day furth ſe na Prelats pretend,

VnderUnder the paine of inobedience

At Prince or Paip to purchaſe ane command

Againe the kow becaus it dois offence:

Till ony Preiſt we think ſufficience

And benefice for to ſerve God withall,

Twa Prelatsſall na man hauehave from thence,

Without that he be of the blude Royall.

11.

Item this prudent counſall hes concludit,

Sa that our haly Vickars be nocht wraith

From this day furth thay ſalbe cleane denudit

p. 132Baith of corſpreſent cow and vmeſt claith.

To pure commons becaus it hath done skaith

And mairouer we think it lytill force,

Howbeit the Barrouns thairto will be laith,

From thine-furth thay ſall want thair hyrald hors.

12.

It is decreit that in this Parliament

Ilk Biſchop▪ Miniſter, Priour and Perſoun▪

To the effect thay may tak better tent

To ſaulis vnderunder thair dominioun,

Efter the forme of thair fundatioun,

Ilk Biſchop in his Dioſie ſall remaine:

And everilk Perſone in his parachoun,

Teiching thair folk from vices to refraine.

13.

Becaus that clarks our ſubſtance dois cōſume

For bils and proces of thair prelacies:

Thairfoir thair ſall na money ga to Rome

From this day furth or any benefice:

Bot gif it be for greit Archbiſchopries,

As for the reſt na money gais at all:

For the increſſing of thair dignities,

Na mair nor did to Peter nor to Paull.

14.

Conſidering yat our Preiſts for the maiſt part

Thay want the gift of Chaſtitie weſe:

Cupido hes ſa perſt them throch the hart,

We grant them licence and frie libertie,

That thay may hauehave fair Virgins to thair wyfis:

And ſa keip matrimoniall Chaſtitie,

And nocht in huirdome for to leid thair lyfis.

15.

This Parliament richt ſa hes done conclude

From this day forth our Barrouns temporall,

Sall na mair mix thair nobil ancient blude

With baſtard bairns of Stait Spirituall:

Ilk ſtait amang thair awin ſelfis marie ſall,

Gif Nobils marie with the Spritualitie,

From thyne ſubiect thay ſalbe, and all

Sal be degraithit of thair Nobilitie.

And from amang the Nobils cancellit:

VntoUnto the tyme thay by thair libertie,

Rehabilit be the ciuill magiſtrate

And ſa ſall marie the Spiritualitie.

Bichops with biſchops ſall mak affinitie,

Abbots and Priors with the Priores:

As Biſchop Annas in Scripture we may ſe,

Maryit his dochter on Biſchop Caiphas.

¶Now hauehave ȝe heard the Acts honorabill,

Devyſit in this preſent Parliament,

To Common-weill we think agreabill:

All faithfull folk ſould heirof be content,

Them till obſerve with hartlie trew intent,

I wait nane will againſt our Acts rebell,

Nor till our law be inobedient,

Bot Plutois band the potent prince of hell.

Heir ſall Pauper cum befoir the King and ſay.

¶Pauper.

I gif ȝow my braid benneſoun,

That hes givin Common-weill a goun:

I wald nocht for ane pair of plackis,

Ȝe had nocht maid this nobill Actis.

I pray to God and ſweit Sanct Geill,

To gif ȝow grace to vſe them weill:

Wer thay weill keipit I vnderſtand,

It war great honour to Scotland.

It had bene als gude ȝe had ſleipit,

As to mak acts and be nocht keipit:

Bot I beſeik ȝow for Alhallows,

p. 134To heid Diſſait and hang his fellows.

And baniſche Flattrie aff the toun,

For thair was never ſic ane loun.

That beand done I hauld it beſt,

That everie man ga to his reſt.

Correctioun▪ As thou hes ſaid it ſalbe done,

Suyith Sergeants hang ȝon ſwingeours ſone.

Heir ſal the Sergeants lous the preſoners out of the and ſtocks leid them the to gallows.

Frſt Ser.

Cum heir ſir Theif, cum heir, cum heir

Quhen war ȝe wont to be ſa ſweir?

To hunt Cattell ȝe war ay ſpeidie

Thairfoir ȝe ſall weaue in ane widdie.

Thift.

Man I be hangit▪ allace, allace,

Is thair nane heir may get me grace?

Ȝit or I die gif me ane drink.

Firſt Sergeant.

Fy huirſun carle I feil ane ſtink▪

Thift.

Thocht I wald nocht that it wittin

[]Sir in gude faith I am bedirtin:

To wit the veritie gif ȝe pleis

Louſe doun my hois▪ put in ȝour neis.

Firſt Segeant.

Thou art ane limmer I ſtand foird

Slip in thy head into this coird:

For thou had never ane meiter tippit,

Thift.

Allace this is ane fellon rippit. Pauſa.

The widdifow wairdanis tuke my geir,

And left me nether hors nor meir:

Nor earthlie gude that me belangit,

Now walloway I man be hangit.

¶Repent ȝour lyfis, ȝe plaine oppreſſours,

All ȝe miſdoras and tranſgreſlours:

Or ellis gar chuſe ȝow gude confeſſours,

And mak ȝow forde:

For gif ȝe tarie in this land,

And cum vnderunder Correctiouns hand:

Ȝour grace ſalbe I vnderſtand,

Ane gude ſcharp coird.

¶Adew my bretheren common theifis,

That helpit me in my miſcheifis.

Adew Groſars, Nickſons and Bellis

Oft hauehave we run out-thoart the fellis.

Adew Robſonis, Haues and Pyſlilis

That in our craft hes mony wyllis.

Lytils Trumbels and Armeſtrangs,

Adew all theifis that me belangs▪

Tailȝeours, Curwings and Elwands,

Speidie of fut and wicht of hands.

The Scottis of Ewiſdaill and the Graimis

I hauehave na tyme to tell ȝour namis:

With King Correctioun and ȝe be fangit,

Beleif richt weill ȝe wilbe hangit.

Fi. Serg.

Speid hand man with thy clitter clatter.

Thift.

For Gods ſaik ſir let me mak watter.

Howbeit I hauehave bene cattel-gredie

It ſchamis to piſche into ane widdie.

Heir ſal Thift be drwin vp, or his figour.

Secu. Serge.

Cum heir Diſſait my companȝeoun

Saw ever ane man lyker ane loun?

To hing vponupon ane gallows:

Diſſait.

This is aneuch to make me mangit,

Duill fell me, that I man be hangit,

Let me ſpeik with my fallows.

¶I trow wan-fortune brocht me heir

Quhat mekill feind maid me ſa ſpeidie?

p. 136Sen it was ſaid it is ſevin ȝeir,

That I ſould weaue into ane widdie▪

I leirit my maiſters to be gredie,

Adew, for I ſe na remeid:

Luke quhat it is to be evil-deidie.

Secund Sergeant.

Now in this halter ſlip thy hand,

Stand ſtill, me think ȝe draw aback:

Diſſait.

Allace maiſter ȝe hurt my crag,

Secund Sergeant.

It will hurt better I woid an plak,

Richt now quhen ȝe hing on ane knag.

¶Diſſait.

Adew my maiſters merchant men,

I hauehave ȝow ſervit as ȝe ken:

Truelie baith air and lait:

I ſay to ȝow for concluſioun,

I dreid ȝe gang to confuſioun,

Fra tyme ȝe want Diſſait.

I leirit ȝow merchants mony ane wyle,

Vpalands wyfis for to begyle,

VponUpon ane markit day:

And gar them trow ȝour ſtuffe was gude,

Quhen it was rottin be the Rude,

And ſweir it was nocht ſway.

I was ay roundand in ȝour ear,

And leirit ȝow for to ban and ſweir,

Quhat ȝour geir coſt in France:

Howbeit the Devill ane word was trew,

Ȝour craft gif King Correctioun knew,

Wald turne ȝow to miſchance.

I leirit ȝow wyllis many fauld,

To mix the new wyne and the auld,

That faſchioun was na follie:

To ſell richt deir and by gude▪chaip,

p. 137And mix Ry-meill amang the ſaip,

And Saiffrone with Oyl-dolie.

Forȝet nocht ocker I counſall ȝow,

Mair then the vicker dois the kow,

Or Lords thair doubill maill:

Howbeit ȝour elwand be too skant,

Or ȝour pound wecht thrie vnces want,

Think that bot lytill faill.

Adew the greit Clan Iameſone,

The blude Royal of Clappertoun,

I was ay to ȝow trew:

Baith Anderſone and Paterſone,

Above them all Thome Williamſone,

My abſence ȝe will rew.

Thome Williamſone it is ȝour pairt,

To pray for me with all ȝour hairt,

And think vponupon my warks:

How I leirit ȝow ane gude leſſoun,

For to begyle in Edinburgh toun,

The Biſchop and his Clarks.

Ȝe ȝoung merchants may cry allace,

For wanting of ȝour wonted grace,

Ȝon curſt King ȝe may ban:

Had I leifit bot halfe ane ȝeir

I ſould hauehave leirit ȝow crafts perqueir,

To begyle wyfe and man.

How may ȝe merchants mak debait?

Fra tyme ȝe want ȝour man Diſſait,

For ȝow I mak great cair:

Without I ryſe fra deid to lyfe,

I wait weill ȝe will never thryfe,

Farther nor the fourth air.

Heir ſal Diſſait be drawin vp or ellis his figure.

Firſt Ser.

Cum heir Falſet & mence the gallows,

Ȝe man hing vp amang ȝour fallows,

For ȝour cankart conditioun:

Monie ane trew man hauehave ȝe wragnit,

Thairfoir but doubt ȝe ſalbe hangit,

But merciemercy or remiſſioun.

Falſet.

Allace, man I be hangit to?

Quhat mekill Devil is this ado?

How came I to this cummer?

My gude maiſters ȝe crafts men,

Want ȝe Falſet full weill I ken,

Ȝe will all die for hunger.

Ȝe men of craft may cry allace,

Quhen ȝe want me ȝe want ȝour grace:

Thairfoir put into wryte:

My leſſouns that I did ȝow leir,

Howbeit the commons eyne ȝe bleir,

Count ȝe nocht that ane myte.

Find me ane Wobſter that is leill,

Orane Walker that will nocht ſteill,

Thair craftines I ken:

Or ane Millair, that is na falt,

That will nather ſteill meall nor malt,

Hauld them for halie men.

At our fleſchers tak ȝe na greife,

Thocht thay blaw leane mutton and beife,

That thay ſeime fat and fair:

Thay think that practick bot ane mow,

Howbeit the Devill a thing it dow,

To thame I leirit that lair.

I leirit Tailȝeours in everie toun,

p. 138To ſchaip fyue quarters in ane goun,

In Angus and in Fyfe:

To vplands Tailȝeours I gaue gude leife,

To ſteill ane ſillie ſtump or ſleife,

VntoUnto kittok his wyfe.

My gude maiſter Andro Fortoun,

Of Tailȝeours that may weir the croun,

For me he will be mangit:

Tailȝeour Baberage my ſone and air,

I wait for me will rudlie rair,

Fra tyme he ſe me hangit.

The barfit Deacon Iamie Ralfe,

Quha never ȝit bocht kow nor calfe,

Becaus he can nocht ſteall:

Willie Cadȝeoch will make na plead,

Howbeit his wyfe want beife and bread,

Get he gude barmie aill.

To the brouſters of Cowper toun,

I leife my braidblack maleſoun,

Als hardie as I may:

To make thinne aill thay think na falt,

Of mekill barme and lytill malt,

Agane the market day.

And thay can mak withoutin doubt,

Ane kynde of aill thay call Harnſ-out,

Wait ȝe how thay mak that?

Ane curtill queine ane laidlie lurdane,

Of ſtrang weſche ſcho will tak ane iurdane,

And ſettis in the gyle-fat.

Quha drinks of that aill, man or page

It will gar all his harnis rage,

That iurdane I may rew:

p. 140It gart my heid rin hiddie giddie,

Sirs God nor I die in ane widdie,

Gif this taill be nocht trew.

Speir at the Sowtar Geordie Sillie,

Fra tyme that he had fild his bellie,

With this vnhelthſum aill:

Than all the Baxters will I ban,

That mixes bread with duſt and bran,

And fyne flour with beir maill.

Adew my maiſters Wrichts and Maiſſouns,

I hauehave neid to leir ȝow few leſſouns,

Ȝe knaw my craft perqueir:

Adew blak-Smythis and Lorimers,

Adew ȝe craftie Cordiners,

That ſellis the ſchone over deir▪

Gold Smythis fair-weill aboue them all,

Remember my memoriall,

With mony ane ſittill caſt:

To mix ſet ȝe nocht by twa preinis

Fyne Ducat gold with hard Gudlingis,

Lyke as I leirnit ȝow laſt.

Quhen I was ludgit vpaland,

The Schiphirds maid with me ane band,

Richt craftelie to ſteill:

Than did I gif ane confirmatioun,

To all the Schiphirdis of this Natioun,

That thay ſould never be leill.

And ilk ane to reſer ane vther,

I knaw fals Schiphirds fyftie fidder,

War thair canteleinis kend:

How thay mak in thair conventiouns,

On montans far fra ony touns,

p. 141To let them never mend.

Amang crafts men it is ane wonder,

To find ten leill amang ane hunder

The treuth I to ȝow tell:

Adew I may na langer tarie,

I man pas to the King of Farie,

Or ellis the rycht to hell▪

Heir ſall he luke vp to his fallows hingand.

Wais me for the gude common thift,

Was never man maid ane mair honeſt ſchift,

His leifing for to win:

Thair was nocht ane in all Lidſdaill,

That ky mair craſtelie culd ſtaill,

Quhair thou hings on that pin.

Sathan reſſaue thy ſaull Diſſait,

Thou was to me ane faithfull mait,

Andals my father brother:

Duill fell the ſillie merchant men,

To mak them ſervice weill I ken,

Thaill never get ſic ane vther.

Heir ſall thay feſtin the coard to his neck with ane dum countenance thairefter he ſall ſay.

Gif any man liſt for to be my mait,

Cum follow me for I am at the gait:

Cum follow me all catyfe covetous Kings,

Reauers but richt of vthers Realmis and Rings.

Togidder with all wrangous conquerours.

And bring with ȝow all publick oppreſſours.

With Pharao King of Egiptians

With him in hell ſalbe ȝour recompence.

All cruell ſchedders of blude innocent,

Cum follow me or ellis rin and repent▪

Prelats that hes ma benefeits nor thrie,

p. 142And will nocht teich nor preiche the veritie▪

Without at God in tyme thay cry for grace,

In hiddeous hell I ſall prepair thair place.

Cum follow me all fals corruptit Iudges,

With Pontius Pilat I ſall prepair ȝour Iudges

All ȝe officials that parts men with thair wyfis,

Cum follow me or els gang mend ȝour lyfis:

With all fals leiders of the conſtrie law,

With wanton Scribs and Clarks intill ane raw.

That to the puir maks mony partiall traine,

Syne hodie ad octo bids them cum againe.

And ȝe that taks rewairds at baith the hands,

Ȝe ſall with me be bund in Baliels bands.

Cum follow me all curſt vnhappie wyfis,

That with ȝour gudemen dayly flytis and ſtryfis,

And quyetlie with rybalds makes repair,

And taks na cure to make ane wrangous air.

Ȝe ſal in hel rewairdit be I wein,

With Ieſabell of Iſraell the Queene.

I hauehave ane curſt vnhappie wyfe my ſell,

Wald God ſcho war befoir me into hell:

That Biſmair war ſcho thair withoutin doubt,

Out of hell the Devill ſcho wald ding out.

Ȝe maryit men evin as ȝe luife ȝour lyfis,

Let never preiſts be hamelie with ȝour wyfis.

My wyfe with preiſts ſho doith me greit onricht

And maid me nine tymes cuckald on ane nicht.

Fairweil for I am to the widdie wend,

For quhy falſet maid never ane better end.

Heir ſal he be heiſit vp, and not his figure and an Craw or ane Ke ſalbe caſtin vp as it war his ſaull.

p. 143¶Flattrie.

HaueHave I nocht chaipit the widdie weil?

Ȝea that I hauehave hauehave be ſweit Sanct Geill,

For I had nocht bene wrangit:

Becaus I ſervit be Alhallows,

Till hauehave bene merchellit amang my fellowis:

And heich aboue them hangit.

I maid far ma falts nor my maits,

I begylde all the thrie eſtaits,

With my hypocriſie:

Quhen I had on my freirs hude

All men beleifit that I was gude▪

Now iudge ȝe gif I be.

Tak mean rackles rubyatour,

Ane theif ane tyrane or ane tratour,

Of everie vyce the plant.

Gif him the habite of ane freir,

The wyfis will trow withoutin weir,

He be ane verie Saint.

I knaw that cowle ane skaplarie,

Genners mair hait nor charitie,

Thocht thay be blak or blew:

Quhat halines is thair within,

Ane wolfe cled in ane wedders skin,

Iudge ȝe gif this be trew.

Sen I hauehave chaipit this firie farie,

Adew I will na Langer tarie,

To cumber ȝow with my clatter:

Bot I will with ane humbill ſpreit,

Gang ſerve the Hermeit of Lareit:

And leir him for till flatter.

Heir ſal enter Foly

p. 144Foly.

¶Gude day my Lords and als God ſaine,

Dois na man bid gude day againe?

Quhen fuillis ar fow then ar thay faine,

Ken ȝe nocht me?

How call thay me can ȝe nocht tell?

Now be him that herryit hell,

I wait nocht how thay call my ſell,

Bot gif I lie.

Diligen.

Quhat brybour is this that maks ſic beiris?

Foly.

The feind reſſaue that mouth that ſpeirs:

Gude-man ga play ȝow with ȝour feiris,

With muck vponupon ȝour mow:

Diligence.

Fond fuill quhair hes thou bene ſa lait?

Foly.

Marie cummand throw the Schogait.

Bot thair hes bene ane great debait▪

Betwixt me and ane Sow.

The Sow cryit guff and I to ga,

Throw ſpeid of fute I gat awa,

Bot in the midſt of the cawſa,

I fell into ane midding:

Scho lap vponupon me with ane bend,

Quha ever the midings ſould amend,

God ſend them ane miſchevous end,

For that is bot Gods bidding.

As I was pudlit thair God wait,

Bot with my club I maid debait:

Iſe never cum againe that gait,

I ſweir ȝow be Alhallows

I wald the officiars of the toun,

That ſuffers ſic confuſion▪

That thay war harbreit with Mahown,

p. 145Or hangit on ane gallows.

Fy fy that ſic ane fair cuntrie,

Sould ſtand ſa lang but policie:

I gif them to the Devill hartlie.

That hes the wyte:

I wald the Provoſt wald tak in heid,

Of ȝon midding to make remeid,

Quhilk pat me and the Sow at feid,

Quhat may I do bot flyte?

¶Rex.

Pas on my ſervant Diligence,

And bring ȝon ſuill to our preſence.

Diligence.

That ſall be done but tarying,

Foly ȝe man ga to the King.

Foly.

The King, quhat kynde of thing is that?

Is ȝon he with the goldin Hat?

Diligence.

Ȝon ſame is he, cum on thy way:

Foly.

Gif ȝe be King God ȝow gude day,

I hauehave ane plaint to make to ȝow:

Rex.

Quhom on Folie?—

—Folie.

Marie on ane Sow.

Sir ſcho hes ſworne that ſcho ſall ſla me,

Or ellis byte baith my balloks fra me:

Gif ȝe be King be Sanct Allan,

Ȝe ſould do Iuſtice to ilk man.

Had I nocht keipit me with my club,

The Sow had drawin me in ane dub.

I heir them ſay thair is cum to the toun,

Ane King callit Correctioun.

I pray, ȝow tell me quhilk is he:

Diligence.

Ȝon with the wings, may hocht ſe?

Folie.

Now wallie fall that weill fairde mow,

Sir I pray ȝow correct ȝon Sow:

p. 146Quhilk with hir teith but ſword or knyfe,

Had maiſt hauehave reft me of my lyfe:

Gif ȝe will nocht mak correctioun,

Than gif me ȝour protectioun

Of all Swyne for to be skaithles

Betuix this toun and Innernes.

Dili,

Foly hes thou ane wyfe at hame?

Foly.

Ȝea that I hauehave, God ſend hir ſchame:

Itrow be this ſcho is neir deid,

I left ane wyfe bind and hir heid,

To ſchaw hir ſeiknes I think ſchame,

Scho hes ſic rumbling in hir wambe:

That all the nicht my hart overcaſts,

With bocking and with thunder-blaſts,

Diligence.

Peradventure ſcho be with bairne:

Folie.

Allace I trow ſcho be forfairne.

Scho ſobbit and ſcho feil in ſown,

And than thay rubbit hir vp and doun:

Scho riftit, routit and maid ſic ſtends,

Scho ȝeild and gaid at baith the ends.

Till ſcho had caſtin ane cuppill of quarts

Syne all turn it to ane rickill of farts.

Scho blubert, bockit and braik it ſtill,

Hir arſſe gaid evin lyke ane wind mill.

Scho ſtumblit and ſtutterit with ſic ſtends,

That ſcho recanti at baith the ends.

Sik diſmell drogs fra hir ſcho ſchot,

Quhill ſcho maid all the fluir on flot.

Of hir hurdies ſcho ſcho had na hauld,

Quhill ſcho had twmed hir monyfauld:

¶Dilig.

Better bring hir to the Leitches heir:

Folie.

Trittill trattill, ſcho may nocht ſteir,

p. 147Hir verie buttoks maks ſic beir,

It skars baith foill and fillie:

Scho bocks ſik bagage fra hir breiſt,

He wants na bubbils that ſittis hir neiſt,

And ay ſcho cryis a preiſt a preiſt,

With ilk a quhillie lillie.

Diligence.

Recoverit ſcho nocht at the laſt?

Folie

Ȝea bot wit ȝe weil ſcho fartit faſt.

Bot quhen ſcho ſichis my hart is ſorie,

Diligence.

Bot drinks ſcho ocht?—

—Folie.

Ȝe be Sanct Marie,

Ane quart at anis it will nocht tarie,

And leif the Devill a drap:

Than ſic flobbage ſcho layis fra hir,

About the wallis, God wait ſic wair,

Quhen it was drunkin I gat to skair,

The lickings of the cap.

¶Diligence.

quhat is in that creill I pray the tell?

Folie.

Marie I hauehave Folie Hats to ſell.

Dili.

I pray the ſell me ane or tway:

Folie Na tarie quhill the market day▪

I will ſit doun heir be Sanct Clune,

And gif my babies thair diſiune.

Cum heir gude Glaiks my dochter deir

Thouſalbe maryit within ane ȝeir,

VponUpon ane freir of Tillilum,

Na thou art nather deaf nor dum:

Cum hidder Stult my ſone and air,

My ioy thou art baith gude and fair:

Now ſall I efnd ȝow as I may

Thocht ȝe cry lyke ane Ke all day.

Heir ſal the bairns cry keck lyke ane Kae and he ſal put meat in thair mouth.

p. 148Diligence.

Get vp Folie but tarying,

And ſpeid ȝow haiſtelie to the King

Get vp me think the carle is dum.

Folie.

Now bum baleriebum bum.

¶Diligence.

I trow the trucour lyis in ane trance

Get vp man with ane mirrie miſchance:

Or be Sanct Dyonis of France,

Iſe gar the want thy wallet:

Its ſchame to ſe man how thow lyis,

Folie.

Wa ȝit againe now this is thryis:

[] The Devill wirrie me and I ryſe,

Bot I ſall break thy pallet.

Me think my pillok will nocht ly doun,

Hauld doun ȝour head ȝe lurdon loun,

Ȝon fair las with the Sating goun

Gars ȝow thus bek and bend:

Take thair ane neidill for ȝour cace

Now for all the hiding of ȝour face,

Had I ȝow in ane quyet place.

Ȝe wald nocht waine to flend.

Thir bony armis that ar cled in ſilk,

Ar evin als wantoun as any wilk,

I wald forbeir baith bread and milk

To kis thy bony lippis:

Suppois ȝe luke as ȝe war wraith,

War ȝe at quyet behind ane claith,

Ȝe wald not ſtick to preife my graith,

With hobling of ȝour hippis.

Diligence.

Suyith harlot haiſt the to the King

And let allane thy trattilling.

Lo heir is Folie ſir alreadie,

Ane richt ſweir ſwingeour be our Ladie.

p. 149Folie.

Thou art not half ſa ſweir thy ſell,

Quhat meins this pulpit, I pray the tell?

Dili.

Our new Biſchops hes maid ane preiching,

Bot thou heard never ſic pleaſant teiching:

Ȝon Biſchop wil preich throch the coaſt,

Folie.

Than ſtryk ane hag into the poaſt,

For I hard never in all my lyfe,

Ane Biſchop cum to preich in Fyfe.

Gif Biſchops to be preichours leiris,

Wallaway quhat ſall word of freiris?

Gif Prelats preich in brugh and land,

The ſillie freirs I vnderſtand

Thay will get na mair meall nor malt,

Sa I dreid freirs ſall die for falt.

Sen ſa is that ȝon nobill King,

Will mak men Biſchops for preiching:

Quhat ſay ȝe ſirs, hauld ȝe nocht beſt?

That I gang preich amang the reſt.

Quhen I hauehave preichit on my beſt wayis,

Then will I ſell my merchandiſe,

To my bretherin and tender maits,

That dwels amang the thrie eſtaits.

For I hauehave heir gude chaifery,

Till any fuill that liſts to by. Heir ſall Foly hing vp his hattis on the pulpet and ſay.

¶God ſen I had ane Doctours hude.

Rex.

Quhy Folie wald thou mak ane preiching?

Folie.

Ȝea that I wald ſir be the Rude,

But eyther flattering or fleiching.

Rex.

Now brother let vsus heir his teiching,

To pas our tyme and heir him raiſe.

Dili.

He war far meiter for the kitching,

p. 150Amang the pottis ſa Chriſt me ſaife.

Fond Foly ſall I be thy Clark,

And anſweir the ay with amen:

Foly.

Now at the beginning of my wark,

The feind reſſaue that graceles grim.

Heir ſal Folie begin hir ſermon, as followis.

Stultorum numerus infinitus.

¶Salomon the maiſt ſapient King

In Iſraell quhan he did ring,

Thir words in effect did write,

The number of fuillis ar infinite.

I think na ſchame ſa Chriſt me ſaife,

To be ane fuill amang the laife,

Howbeit ane hundreth ſtands heir by,

Preventure als great fuillis as I.

Stultorum.

¶I hauehave of my Genelogie,

Dwelland in everie cuntrie,

Earles, Duiks, Kings, and Empriours,

With mony guckit Conquerours:

Quhilk dois in Folie perſeveir,

And hes done ſa this many ȝeir.

Sum ſeiks to warldlie dignities,

And ſum to ſenſuall vanities

Quhat vails all thir vaine honours,

Nocht being ſure to leife twa houris?

Sum greidie fuill dois fill ane box,

Ane vther fuill cummis and breaks the lox:

And ſpends that vther fuillis hes ſpaird,

Quhilk never thocht on them to wairde.

Sum dois as thay ſould never die,

Is nocht this folie, quhat ſay ȝe?

p. 151Sapientia huius mundi ſtultitia est apud Deum.

Becaus thair is ſa many fuillis,

Rydand on hors and ſum on muillis:

Heir I hauehave bocht gude chafery,

Till ony fuill that liſts to by.

And ſpeciallie for the thrie eſtaits,

Quhair I hauehave mony tender maits:

Quhilk cauſit them as ȝe may ſe,

Gang backwart throw the haill cuntrie.

Gif with my merchandiſe ȝe liſt to mell,

Heir I hauehave Folie Hattis to ſell.

Quhairfoir is this Hat wald ȝe ken?

Marie for inſatiabill merchant men.

Quhen God hes ſend them abundance

Ar nocht content with ſufficiance.

Bot ſaillis into the ſtormy blaſtis,

In Winter to get greater caſtis:

In mony terribill great torment,

Againſt the Acts of Parliament.

Sum tynis thair geir, and ſum ar drounde,

With this ſic merchants ſould be crounde.

Dili.

Quhom to ſchaips thou to ſell that hude?

I trow to ſum great man of gude.

Folie.

This hude to ſell richt faine I wald,

Till him that is baith auld & cald:

Reddie till pas to hell or heavin,

And hes fair bairns ſax or ſeavin:

And is of age fourſcoir of ȝeir,

And taks ane laſſe to be his peir:

Quhilk is nocht fourteine ȝeir of age,

And ioynis with hir in mariage:

Geifand hir traiſt that ſcho nocht wald,

p. 152Rycht haiſtelie mak him cuckald▪

Quha maryes beand ſa neir thair dead,

Set on this Hat vponupon his head.

Dili.

Quhat Hude is that tell me I pray the?

Folie.

This is ane haly Hude I ſay the,

This Hude is ordanit I the aſſure,

For Sprituall fuillis that taks in cure,

The ſaullis of great Dioſies,

And regiment of great Abeſies,

For gredines of warldlie pelfe,

Than can nocht iuſtlie gyde them ſelfe.

Vthers ſauls to ſaife it ſettis them weill,

Syne ſell them a win ſaullis to the Deuil.

Quha ever dois ſa, this I conclude,

VponUpon his heid ſet on this Hude:

Diligence, Foly is thair ony ſic men

Now in the Kirk that thou can ken?

How ſall I ken them?—

—Folie.

Na keip that clois,

Ex operibus eorum cognoſcetis eos.

And fuillis ſpeik of the Prelacie,

It will be hauldin for heriſie.

¶Rex.

Speik on hardlie I gif the leife:

Foly.

Than my remiſſioun is in my ſleife.

Will ȝe leife me to ſpeik of Kings?

Rex.

Ȝea hardlie ſpeik of all kin things.

Conforming to my firſt narratioun,

Ȝe ar all fuillis be Coks paſſioun.

Dili.

Thou leis, I trow thisfuill be man git.

Folie.

Gif I lie God nor thou behangit.

For I hauehave heir I to the tell

Ane nobill cap imperiell,

p. 153Quhilk is nocht ordanit bot for doings,

Of Empreours, of Duiks and Kings.

For princelie and imperiall fuillis,

Thay ſould hauehave luggis als lang as Muillis.

The pryde of Princes without in faill,

Gars all the warld rin top ovir taill.

To win them warldlie gloir and gude,

Thay cure nocht ſchedding of ſaikles blude.

Quhat cummer hauehave ȝe had in Scotland,

Be our auld enemies of Ingland?

Had nocht bene the ſupport of France,

We had bene brocht to great miſchance.

Now I heir tell the Empreour,

Schaippis for till be ane Conquerour.

And is muifing his ordinance,

Againſt the Nobill King of France.

Bot I knaw nocht his iuſt querrell,

That he hes for till mak battell.

All the Princes of Almanie,

Spainȝe, Flanders and Italie.

This preſent ȝeir ar in ane flocht:

Sum ſall thair wages find deir bocht.

The Paip with bombard, ſpeir and ſcheild,

Hes ſend his armie to the feild.

Sanct Peter, Sanct Paull nor Sanct Androw,

Raiſit never ſic ane Oiſt I trow.

Is this fraternall charitie,

▪Or furious folie, quhat ſay ȝe?

Thay leird nocht this at Chriſtis Scuillis:

Thairfoir I think them verie fuillis.

I think it folie be Gods mother,

Ilk Chriſtian Prince to ding doun vther:

p. 154Becaus that this hat ſould belang them,

Gang thou and part it evin amang them,

The Propheſie withouttin weir,

Of Merling beis compleit this ȝeir:

For my gudame the Gyre Carling,

Leirnde me the Propheſie of Marling:

Quhairof I ſall ſchaw the ſentence,

Gif ȝe will gif me audience.

Flan Fran reſurgent, ſimul Hiſpan viribus vrgent,

Dani vastabunt, Vallones valla parabunt.

Sic tibi nomen in a mulier cacauit in olla:

Hoc epulum comedes—

Diligence.

Marie that is ane il ſauorit diſche.

Folie.

Sa be this Propheſie plainlie appeirs,

That mortall weirs ſalbe amang freirs:

Thay ſall nocht knaw weill in thair cloſters.

To quhom thay ſall ſay thair Pater noſters.

Wald thay fall to and fecht with ſpeir and ſheild

The feind mak cuir quhilk of them win the feild.

Now of my ſermon hauehave I maid ane end,

To Gilly-mouband I ȝow all commend.

And I ȝow all beſeik richt hartfullie:

Pray for the ſaull of gude Cacaphatie:

Quhilk laitlic drownit himſelf into Loch leavin,

That his ſweit ſaull may be aboue the heavin.

¶Diligen.

Famous peopil hartlie I ȝow requyre,

This lytill ſport to tak in patience,

We traiſt to God and we leif ane vther ȝeir,

Quhair we hauehave failit we ſall do diligence,

With mair pleaſure to mak ȝow recompence:

Becaus we hauehave bene ſum part tedious

With mater rude, denude of eloquence,

Likewyſe perchance, to ſum men odious.

p. 155¶Now let ilk man his way avance,

Let ſum ga drink and ſum ga dance:

Menſtrell, blaw vp ane brawll of France,

Let ſe quha hobbils beſt:

For I will rin incontinent,

To the Tavern or ever I ſtent:

And pray to God omnipotent,

To ſend ȝow all gude reſt.

Rex ſapiens aeterne Deus genitorque benigne, Sit tibi perpetuo gloria, laus & honor.

Printed at Edinburgh be Robert Charteris. AN. DO. MDCII.

And are to be ſauld in his Buith on the North-ſide of the Gait, at the Weſt-ſide of the auld Prouoſts Clos head.

End of the text · David Lindsay, A Satire of the Three Estates (1602)