And purposit, for passing of the tyme,
Me to defend from ociositie

With pen and paper to register in ryme
Sum mery mater of Antiquitie :

Bot Idelnes, ground of iniquitie,

Scho maid so dull my spreitis, me within,
That I wyste nocht at quhat end to begin.

But satt styll in that cove, quhare I mycht see
The wolteryng of the wallis1 up and down;
And this fals Warldis instabylytie

Unto that see makkand' comparisoun,
And of this Warldis wracheit variatioun
To thame that fixis all thair hole intent,
Consideryng quho most had suld most repent.

So, with my hude my hede I happit warme,
And in my cloke I fauldit boith my feit;

I thocht my corps with cauld suld tak no harme,
My mittanis held my handis weill in heit;
The skowland craig me coverit frome the sleit :
Thare styll I satt, my bonis for to rest,
Tyll Morpheus, with sleip, my spreit opprest.

So throw the bousteous blastis of Eolus,
And throw my walkyng on the nycht before,
And throw the seyis mofyng marvellous
Be Neptunus, with mony route and rore,
Constrainit I was to sleip, withouttin more:
And quhat I dremit, in conclusion

I sall you tell, ane marvellous Visioun.

wavcs.

2 Northern participial form.

3 boisterous.

FROM THE TESTAMENT AND COMPLAYNT OF THE PAPINGO.'

Kyng James the First, the patroun of prudence,

Gem of ingyne, and peirll of polycie,

Well of Justice, and flude of cloquence,

Quhose vertew doith transcende my fantasie
For tyll discryve; yit quhen he stude most hie
Be fals exhorbitant conspiratioun
That prudent Prince was pieteouslie put down.

Als, James the Secunde, roye of gret renoun,
Beand in his superexcelland glore,
Throuch reakless schuttyng of one gret cannoun
The dolent deith, allace! did hym devore.
One thyng thare bene, of quhilk I marvell more,
That Fortune had at hym sic mortall feid1
Throuch fyftie thousand, to waill him by the heid.
My hart is peirst with panes, for to pance3,
Or wrytt, that courtis variatioun

Of James the Third, quhen he had governance,
The dolour, dreid, and desolatioun,

The change of court and conspiratioun ;
And quhon that Cochrane, with his companye,
That tyme in courte clam so presumpteouslye.

*

*

*

*

*

Allace! quhare bene that rycht redoutit roye,

That potent prince, gentyll King James the Feird1?

I pray to Christe his saule for to convoye:

Ane greater nobyll rang nocht in to the eird.

5

O Atropus! warye we maye thy weird;

For he wes myrrour of humylitie,

Lode sterne and lampe of liberalytie.

And of his court,' throuch Europe sprang the fame,
Of lustie Lordis and lufesum Ladyis ying,
Tryumphand tornayis, justyng, and kychtly game,
With all pastyme, accordyng for ane kyng:
He wes the glore of princelie governyng,

Quhilk, throuch the ardent lufe he had to France,
Agane Ingland did move his ordinance.

Of Floddoun Feilde the rewyne to revolve,
Or that most dolent daye for tyll deplore,
I nyll, for dreid that dolour yow dissolve,
Schaw how that prince, in his tryumphand glore,
Distroyit was, quhat nedeith proces more?
Nocht be the vertew of Inglis ordinance
Bot, be his awin wylfull mysgovernance.

FROM ANE SATYRE OF THE THREI ESTAITIS.' Veritie.

For our Christ's saik, I am richt weill content To suffer all thing that sall pleis his grace, Howbeit, ye put ane thousand till torment, Ten hundreth thowsand sall ryse into thair place. [Veritie sits down on hir knies and sayis:]

Yet up, thow slepis all too lang, O Lord,

And mak sum ressonabill reformatioun,

On thame that dois tramp down thy gracious word, And hes ane deidlie indignatioun,

At them, quha maks maist trew narratioun : Suffer me not, Lord, mair to be molest,

Gude Lord, I mak the supplicatioun,

With thy unfriends let me nocht be supprest.

My patent pardouns, ye may se,
Cum fra the Cane of Tartarei,
Weill seald with oster schellis;
Thocht ye have na contritioun,
Ye sall have full remissioun,

With help of buiks and bellis.
Heir is ane relict, lang and braid,
Of Fine Macoult the richt chaft blaid1,

With teith and al togidder:

Of Colling's cow, heir is ane horne,
For eating of Mackonnal's corne
Was slain into Baquhidder.

Heir is ane coird, baith great and lang,
Quhilk hangit Johne 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 Bryd's kow,

The gruntill of Sanct Antonis sow,
Quhilk buir his haly bell;

Quha ever he be heiris this bell clinck,
Gif me ane dacat for till drink,

He sall never gang to hell.

Marie! I lent my gossop my mear to fetch hame coills,
And he hir drounit into the Querrell hollis ;
And I ran to the Consistorie, for to pleinze3,
And thair I happinit amang ane greidie meinze *.
Thay gave me first ane thing thay call Citandum,
Within aucht dayis, I gat bot Lybellandum,
Within ane moneth, I gat ad Opponendum
In half ane yeir I gat Interloquendum,

And syne, I gat, how call ye it? ad Replicandum.
Bot, I could never ane word yit understand 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 post-ponit me twa yeir, with thair traine,

Syne, Hodie ad octo, bad me cum againe,
And than, thir ruiks, thay roupit 5 wonder fast,
For sentence silver, thay cryit at the last.
Of Pronunciandum they maid me wonder faine;

Bot I got never my gude gray meir againe.

FROM THE MONARCHIE.'

Christ, efter his glorious Ascentioun,

Tyll his Disciplis send the Holy Spreit, In toungis of fyre, to that intentioun,

Thay, beand of all languages repleit,

Throuch all the warld, with wordis fair and sweit, Tyll every man the faith thay suld furth schaw In thare owin leid1, delyverand thame the Law. Tharefore I thynk one gret dirisioun,

To heir thir Nunnis and Systeris nycht and day Syngand and sayand Psalmes and Orisoun,

Nocht understandyng quhat thay syng nor say.
Bot lyke one Stirlyng or ane Papingay,
Quhilk leirnit ar to speik be lang usage:
Thame I compair to byrdis in ane cage.

Rycht so childreyng and ladyis of honouris
Prayis in Latyne, to thame ane uncuth2 leid,
Mumland thair Matynis, Evinsang, and thair Houris,
Thare Pater Noster, Ave, and thare Creid.
It wer als plesand to thare spreit, in deid,
God have mercy on me, for to say thus,
As to say, Miserere mei Deus.

Sanct Jerome in his propir toung Romane

The Law of God he trewlie did translait, Out of Hebrew and Greik, in Latyne plane,

Quhilk hes bene hid from us lang tyme, God wait,
Onto this tyme: bot, efter myne consait,

Had Sanct Jerome bene borne in tyll Argyle
In to Yrische toung his bukis had done compyle.
Prudent Sanct Paull doith mak narratioun

Twycheyng the divers leid of every land,
Sayand, there bene more edificatioun

In fyve wordis that folk doith understand,
Nor to pronounce of wordis ten thousand

In strange langage, sine wait not quhat it menis:
I thynk sic pattryng is not worth twa prenis 3.