Thow hie renown of Martis chevalry, 
Quhilk gladis euery gentill wight to heir, 
Gif thou mycht Mars and Hercules deify, 
Quharfor beyn nobillys to follow prowes swer? 
Weill auchtyn eldris exemplis ws to steir 
Tyll hie curage, all honour till ensew: 
Quhen we considir quhat wirschip tharof grew, 
All vyce detest, and vertu lat ws leyr. 
Prowes, but vyce, is provit lefull thyng 
By haly scriptur into syndry place, 
Be Machabeus, Iosue, Dauid kyng. 
Mychael, and eyk hys angellys full of grace, 
That can the dragon furth of hevynnys chace 
With vailȝeand dyntis of ferm myndis contrar, 
Nane other strokis nor wapynnys had thai thar, 
Nother speir, buge, pol ax, swerd, knyfe nor mace; 
In takynnyng that in chevalry or fyght 
Our myndis suld haue iust ententioun, 
The grond of batale fundyt apon rycht; 
Not for thou lyst to mak discentioun 
To seik occasyons of contentioun, 
Bot rype thy querrell, and discuss it plane: 
Wrangis to reddress suld wer be vndertane, 
For na conquest, reif, skat nor pensioun. 
To speke of moral vertuus hardyment, 
Or rathar of dyvyne, is myne entent; 
For warldly strenth is febill and impotent 
In Goddis sight, and insufficient. 
The Psalmyst says that God is not content 
In mannys stalwart lymmys nor strenth of corss, 
Bot into thame that trastis in hys forss, 
Askand mercy, and dredand iugement. 
Strang fortitud, quhilk hardyment cleip we, 
Abuf the quhilk the vertu souerane 
Accordyng pryncis, hecht magnanymyte, 
Is a bonte set betwix vicis twane: 
Of quham fuyl hardynes clepit is the tane, 
That vndertakis all perrellis but avice; 
The tother is namyt schamefull cowardyce, 
Voyd of curage, and dolf as ony stane. 
The first is hardy all owt by mesur, 
Of tyme nor rayson gevis he na cuyr, 
No dowt he castis, bot all thinkis suyr, 
Nocht may he suffir, nor hys hait endur; 
The tother is of all prowes sa puyr, 
That evir he standis in feir and felloun dreid, 
And nevir dar vndertake a douchty deid, 
Bot doith all curage and all manheid smuyr. 
The first soundis towart vertu sum deill, 
Hardy he is, couth he be avyse; 
Of hardyment the tother hass na feill: 
Quhou may curage and cowardys agre? 
Of fortitud to compt ȝou euery gre, 
As Arestotill in hys Ethikis doith express, 
It wald, as now, conteyn our lang process; 
Quharfor of other chevalry carp will we. 
Gyf Crystis faithfull knychtis lyst ws be, 
So as we aucht, and promyst hess at font, 
Than mon we byd baldly, and neuer fle, 
Nowder be abasyt, tepyt nor ȝit blunt, 
Nor as cowartis to eschew the first dunt. 
Pawle witnessith, that nane sall wyn the crown, 
Bot he quhilk dewly makis hym reddy bown 
To stand wightly, and feght in the forfront. 
And quha that sall nocht wyn the crown of meid, 
That is to say, the euerlestand blyss, 
The fyre eternall neidlyngis most thai dreid: 
For Cryst into his gospell says, I wyss, 
Quha bydis nocht with me contrar me is; 
And gif thou be aganyst God, but weir 
Than art thou wageour onto Lucifer. 
God salf ws all from sik a syre as this! 
The armour of our chevalry, perfay, 
So the Apostyll techit ws express, 
Not corporall bot sperituall beyn thai, 
Our conquyst haill, our vassellage and prowes, 
Aganyst spretis and pryncis of myrknes; 
Not agane man, owr awyn brother and mait, 
Nor ȝit aganyst our makar to debait, 
As rabell tell all vertu and gudness. 
The flesch debatis aganys the spiritual gost, 
Hys hie curage with sensual lust to law, 
And, be the body victor, baith ar lost; 
The spreit wald vp, the corpss ay down list draw: 
Thy secund fa the warld, ane other thraw, 
Makis strang assaltis of covatyss and estait, 
Aganyst quham is full perrellus debait; 
Thir fays famyliar beyn full quaynt to knaw. 
Lyff in thy flesch as master of thy corps, 
Lyf in this warld as nocht ay to remane; 
Resist the fendis slycht with all thy forss, 
He is thy ancyent ennemy, werst of ane; 
A thousand wylys he hess, and mony a trane, 
He kendillis oft thy flesch in byrnand heit, 
He causys wrachit plesans seym full sweit, 
And, for nocht, of this fals warld makis the fane. 
He is thy fa and aduersar principall, 
Of promyssioun wald the expell the land, 
For he the sammyn lost, and caucht a fall; 
Enfors the strangly contrar hym to stand. 
Rayss hie the targe of faith vp in thy hand, 
On hed the halsum helm of hoip onlace, 
In cheryte thy body all embrace, 
And of devoit oryson mak thy brand. 
Stand at defens, and schrynk not for a schor; 
Thynk on the haly marthyris at ar went, 
Thynk on the payn of hell, and endless glor, 
Thynk quhou thy Lord for the on rude was rent, 
Thynk, and thou fle fra hym, than art thou schent, 
Thynk all thou sufferis ontyll hys paynis nocht is, 
Thynk with quhou precyus pryce as thi sawll bocht is, 
And ay the moder of grace in mynd enprent. 
Feill beyn thy fays, fers and full of slycht, 
Bot be thou stalwart campioun and knycht; 
In feild of grace with forsaid armour brycht 
Thou may debait thame lyghtly in ilk fyght: 
For of fre will thyne acton is sa wight 
Nane may it perss, wilt thou resist and stand; 
Becum thow cowart, crawdoun recryand, 
And by consent ory cok, thy ded is dycht. 
Thynk quhou that fa is waik and impotent, 
May venquyss nane bot thame lyst be ourcum; 
He sall the nevir ourset, but thy consent. 
Eith is defens to say nay, or be dum; 
And for thy weill, lo, thys is all and sum: 
Consent nevir, and thou sall nevir be lost, 
By disassent thou may venquys ane ost, 
And, for anys ȝa, tyne thy meid euery crum. 
Na wondir is, for by exempill we se, 
Quha servys hys souerane intill all degre 
Full mony days, and efter syne gif he 
Commyttis anys trayson, suld he nocht de, 
Less than hys prynce, of gret humanyte, 
Pardoun hys falt for hys lang trew seruys, 
Gyf he wald mercy craif? The sammyn wyss 
We beyn forgevyn, so that repent will we. 
Bot quhat avalys begyn a strang melle, 
Syne ȝeld the to thy fa, but ony quhy, 
Or cowartly to tak the bak and fle? 
Na, thar sall nane optene hie victory, 
Less thai sustene the bargane dowchtely; 
And quha so perseueris to the end 
Ane conquerour and campioun euer is kend, 
With palm of triumphe, honour and glory. 
The maist onsilly kynd of forton is 
To haue beyn happy; Boetius techis so; 
As, to haue beyn in welth and hartis blyss, 
And now tobe dekeit and in wo: 
Richt so, quha vertuus was, and fallys tharfro, 
Of verray rayson malewrus hait is he; 
And ȝ it, by grace and hys fre volunte, 
He may recovir meryt agane alsso. 
I say "be grace", for quhen thou art in grace, 
Thou may eik grace to grace, ay mor and mor; 
Bot quhen thou fallys be syn tharfra, allace, 
Of thy meryt thou gettis hyr nevirmor; 
ȝit quhen thou dewly disponys the tharfor, 
Doand all that in the thar may be done, 
Of hys gudnes the etern Lord alssone 
Restorys the meryt, with grace in arlys of glor. 
Haill thy meryt thou had tofor thy fall, 
That is to say, thy warkis meritabill, 
Restorit ar agane baith gret and small 
And grace tharto, quhilk is sa profitabill 
That thou tharby to eik meryt art habill; 
Bot nocht ilk gre of grace thou had befor; 
That gettis thou not sa soyn, quhill forthyrmor: 
Be war tharfor, fall not, bot standis stabill. 
For lyke as quha offendit had hys lord, 
That lang tofor hys trew servand had bene, 
And syne agane becumis at ane accord 
With hys master, all thocht hys lord wald meyn 
On hys ald seruyce, ȝit netheless, I weyn 
He sall nocht soyn be tendir, as he was ayr: 
Be war tharwith, and kepe ȝou fra the snair, 
Tyne nocht ȝour laubour and ȝour thank betweyn. 
Exempill takis of this prynce Ene, 
That, for hys fatale cuntre of behest, 
Sa feill dangeris sustenyt on land and see, 
Syk stryfe in stour sa oft with speir in rest, 
Quhill he hys realm conquest bath west and est: 
Sen all this dyd he for a temporall ryng, 
Press ws to wyn the kynryk ay lestyng, 
Address ws fast fortill opteyn that fest. 
He may be callyt, as says Sanct Augustyn, 
Ane delicat, owr esy, Crystyn knycht, 
Refusys to thoill traval, sturt or pyne, 
And but debait wenys till optene the fycht. 
To wyn the feild, and nevir preif thy mycht, 
That war nyce thyng! Thy kyng Cryste in batell 
Quhat sufferit he for the, O catyve wight? 
Lyis thou at eyss, thy prynce in bargane fell? 
Aschamys of our sleutht and cowardyce! 
Seand thir gentyles and the paganys ald 
Ensew vertu, and eschew euery vyce, 
And for sa schort renown warryn so bald 
To susteyn weir and panys teyr ontald; 
Than lat ws stryve that realm forto posseid, 
The quhilk was hecht till Abraham and hys seyd; 
Lord, at ws wrocht and bocht, grant ws that hald! etc.