Ane verie excellent and delectabill Treatise intitulit PHILOTVS.
Philotus directis his speich to Emilie.
O Lustie luifsome lamp of licht,
Ȝour bonynes ȝour bewtie bricht
Ȝour staitly stature trym & ticht
With gesture grave and gude:
Ȝour countenance, ȝour cullour cleir
Ȝour lauching lips, ȝour smyling cheir,
Ȝour properties dois all appeir,
My senses to illude.
2
Quhen I ȝour bewtie do behald,
I man vnto ȝour fairnes fald:
I dow not flie howbeit I wald,
Bot bound I man be ȝouris:
For ȝow sweit hart I wald forsaik,
The Empryce for to be my maik,
Thairfoir deir dow sum pitie tak,
And saif mee fra the schowres.
3
Deme na ill of my age my dow,
I se play the ȝonkeris part to ȝow.
First try the treuth, then may ȝe trow,
Gif I mynd to desaue:
For Gold nor geir ȝe sall not want.
Sweit hart with me thairs be na scant,
Thairfoir some grace vnto me grant,
For courtesie I craue.
Plesant.
Ha, ha quha brocht thir bittocks hither
The mekill feind resaue the fithir:
I trow ȝe was not al together,
This twel-month at ane preiching.
Allace I lauch for lytill lucke,
I lauch to sie ane auld Carle gucke:
Wow wow sa fame as he wald f
[...],
Fra he fall till his fleitching.
5
Now wallie as the Carle he caiges.
Gudeman quha hes maid ȝour mustages?
Lo as the bo
[...] of fourescoir ages,
As he micht not be biddin:
Came ȝe to wow our Lasse, now lachter,
Ȝe ar sa rasch thair will be slachter,
Ȝe will not spair nor speir quhais aucht hir,
Ȝe ar sa raschlie riddiu.
Emily.
6
I wait not weill sir quhat ȝe meine,
Bot suirlie I haue seindill seine,
Ane wower of ȝour ȝeirs sa keine,
As ȝe appeir to be:
I think ane man sir, of ȝour ȝeiris.
Sould not be blyndit with the bleiris,
Ga seik ane partie of ȝour peires,
For ȝe get nane of mee.
The auld man speikis to the Macrell to allure the Madyn.
7
Gude Dame, I haue ȝow to imploy.
Sa ȝe my purpose can convoy:
And that ȝon Lasse I micht inioy,
Ȝe sould not want rewaird:
Giue hir this Tablet and this King,
This Pursse of gold and spair nathing:
Sa ȝe about all weill may bring,
Of gold tak na regaird.
Macrell.
8
Na sir, let me and that allane,
Suppose scho war maid of a stane,
I se gar hir grant or all be gane,
To be at ȝour command:
Thocht scho be strange, I think na wonder,
Blait things is sone brocht in ane blunder,
Scho is not the first sir, of ane hunder,
That I haue had in hand.
9
I am ane Fische I am ane Eile,
Can steir my toung and tayle richt weill,
I giue me to the mekill Deill,
Gif onie can do mair:
I can with fair anis fleitch and flatter,
And win ane Crown bot with ane clatter,
That gars me drink gude wyne for watter,
Suppois my back ga bair.
The Macrell intends to allure the Madyn.
10
God blis ȝow Maistres with ȝour Buik,
Leise me thay lips that I on luik:
I hope in God to sie ȝow bruik,
Ane nobill house at hame:
I ken ane Man into this toun,
Of hyest honour and renoun,
That wald be glaid to giue his Gowne,
For to haue ȝow his Dame.
Emily.
11
Now be my saull I can not lie,
That thair sik vertew is in me,
Gudwyfe, I pray ȝow quhat is he,
That man quhome of ȝe meine?
Macrell
Philotus is the man a faith,
Ane ground-riche man and full of graith:
He wantis na jewels claith nor waith,
Bot is baith big and beine.
21
Weill war the woman all hir lyfe,
Had hap to be his weddit wyfe,
Scho micht haue gold and geir als ryfe,
As Copper in hir Rist:
Ȝ
[...], no
[...] a Ladie in all this Land,
I wait micht haue mair wealth in hand,
Nor m
[...]t haue mair at hir command,
To do with quhat scho list.
13
Fair floure, now sen ȝe may him fang,
It war not gude to let him gang,
Vnto ȝour self ȝe'ile
[...]o greit wrang,
Sweit hart now and ȝe sl
[...]p him:
Now thair is twentie i
[...]o this toun,
Of greitest riches and renoun,
That wald be glaid for to sit doun,
Vpon thair kneis to grip him.
14
Thocht he be auid my joy, quhat reek,
Quhen he is gaue giue him ane geek,
And tak another be the neck,
Quhen ȝe the graith haue gottin:
Schaw me ȝour mynd and quhat ȝe meine,
I fall conuoy all this sa clein
[...],
That me ȝee fall esteme ane freine,
Q
[...]en I am deid and rottin.
Emilie.
15
I grant gude-wyfe he is richt gude,
Ane man of wealth and nobill blude,
Bot hes mair uniter of ane Hude,
And Mittanes till his handis:
Nor of ane bairnelie Lasse lyke mee,
Mair meit his Oy nor wyfe to be:
His age and myne cannot agrie,
Quhill that the warld standis.
Macrell.
16
Let that allane he is not sa auld,
Nor ȝit of curage half sa cald,
Bot gif ȝe war his wyfe, ȝe wald,
Be weill aneuch concent:
With him mair treitment on ane day,
And get mair making off ȝe may,
Nor with ane Wamster suith to say,
Quhen twentie ȝeiris ar spent.
17
Ȝe neyther mell with lad nor loun,
Bot with the best in all this toun,
His wyfe may ay sit formest doun,
At eyther burde or bink:
Gang formest in at dure or ȝet,
And ay the first gude-day wald get,
With all men honourit and weill tret,
As onie hart wald think.
18
Se quhat a womans mynde may meise
And heir quhat honour, wealth and eise,
Ȝe may get with him and ȝe pleise,
To do as I deuyse:
Ȝour fyre sall first be birnand cleir,
Ȝour Madynis than sall haue ȝour geir,
Put in gude or dour and effeir,
Ilk morning or ȝow ryse.
19
And say, lo Maistres heir ȝour Muillis,
Put on ȝour Wylicote for it cuillis,
Lo, heir ane of ȝour Veluote stuillis,
Quhairon ȝe sall sit doun:
Than twasum cummis to cambe ȝour hair,
Put on ȝour heidgeir soft and fair,
Tak thair ȝour glasse sie all be clair,
And sa gais on ȝour Goun.
20
Than tak to stanchethe morning drouth.
Ane cup of Mauesie for ȝour mouth,
For fame cast sucker in at fouth,
Togidder with a Toist:
Thrie Garden gowps tak of the Air,
And bid ȝour Page in haist prepair,
For ȝour Disione sum daintie fair,
And cair not for na coist.
21
Ane pair of Pleuaris pypping hait,
Ane Pertrick and ane Quailȝie get,
Ane cup of Sack, sweit and weill set,
May for ane breckfast gaine.
Ȝour Cater he may cair for syne,
Su undelicate agane ȝe dyne,
Ȝour Cuke to seasoun all sa fyne,
Than dois imploy his paine.
22
To sie ȝour seruantes may ȝe gang,
And luke ȝour Madynis all amang,
And gif thair onie wark be wrang,
Than bitterne them blame,
Than may ȝe haue baith Quaiffis and Kellis,
Hich Candie Ruffes and Barlet Bellis,
All for ȝour weiring and not ellis,
Maid in ȝour hous at hame.
23
And now quhen all thir warks is done,
For ȝour refresching eftern one,
Gar bring vnto ȝour chalmer sone,
Sum danitie dische of meate:
Ane cup or twa with Muscadall,
Sum vther licht thing thairwithall,
For Rasins or for Capers call,
Gif that ȝe please to eate,
24
Till suppertyme then may ȝe chois,
Vnto ȝour Garden to repois,
Or merelie to tak ane glois,
Or tak ane buke and reid on:
Syne to ȝour supper ar ȝe brocht,
Till fair full far that hes bene socht,
And daintie disches deirlie bocht,
That Ladies loues to feid on.
25
The Organes than into ȝour hall,
With Schalme and Tymbrell sound thay sall,
The Vyole and the Lute with all,
To gar ȝour meate disgest:
The supper done than vp ȝe ryse,
To gang ane quhyle as is the gyfe,
Be ȝe haue rowmit ane Alley thryse,
It is ane myle almaist.
26
Than may ȝe to ȝour Chalmer gang,
Begyle the nicht gif it be lang,
With talk and merie mowes amang,
To eleuate the splene:
For ȝour Collation tak and taist,
Sum lytill licht thing till disgest,
At nicht vse Rense wyne ay almaist,
For it is could and clene.
27
And for ȝour back I dar be bould,
That ȝe fall weir euen as ȝe would,
With doubill Garnischings of gould,
And Craip aboue ȝour hair:
Ȝour Veluote hat, ȝour Hude of Stait,
Ȝour Myssell quhen ȝe gang to gait,
Fra Sone and wind baith air and lait.
To keip that face safair.
28
Of Pareis wark wrocht by the laif,
Ȝour fyne Half-cheinzeis ȝe sall haue,
For to decoir ane Carkat craif
That cumlie Collour bane:
Ȝour greit gould Cheinzie for ȝour neck,
Be bowsum to the Carle and beck,
For he hes gould aneuch, quhat reck?
It will not stand on nane.
29
And for ȝour Gownes ay the new guyse,
Ȝe with ȝour Tailȝeours may deuyse,
To haue them louse with plets and plyis,
Or clasped clois behind:
The stuffe my hart ȝe neid not haine,
Pan Veluot, raysde figurit or plaine,
Silk, Satyne, Damayse or Grograine,
The fynest ȝe can find.
30
Ȝour claithes on cullouris cuttit out,
And all Pasmentit round about,
My blessing on that semelie snout,
Sa weill I trow sall set them:
Ȝour schankis of silk ȝour veluot schone,
Ȝour borderit Wylicote abone,
As ȝe deuyse all sall be done,
Vncraifit quhen ȝe get them.
31
Ȝour Tablet be ȝour hals that hinges
Gould bracelets and all vther things,
And all ȝour fingers full of Rings,
With Pearle and precious stanes:
Ȝe sall haue ay quhill ȝe cry ho,
Rickillis of gould and jewellis jo,
Quhat reck to tak the Bogill-bo,
My bonie burd for anis.
32
Sweit hart quhat farther wald ȝe haue.
Quhat greiter plesour wald ȝe craue,
Now be my saull ȝow will de saue,
Ȝour self and ȝe forsaik him:
Thairfoir sweit honie I ȝow pray,
Tak tent in tyme and nocht delay,
Sweit sucker, neck me not with nay,
Bot be content to tak him.
Plesant.
33
The deuill cum lick that beird auld rowan
Now sie the trottibus and trowane,
Sa busilie as sho is wowane,
Sie as the carling craks:
Begyle the barne sho is bot ȝoung,
Foull fall thay lips, God nor that toung,
War doubill gilt with Nurisch doung,
And ill cheir on thay cheikis.
Emily.
33
Gude-wyfe all is bot gude I heir,
For weill I lufe to mak gude cheir,
For honouris, gould, and vther geir,
Thay can not be refusit:
I grant indeid, my daylie fair,
Will be sufficient and mair,
Bot be it gude ȝe do not spair,
As royallie to ruse it.
35
I grant all day to be weill tret,
Honours anew and hicht vpset,
Bot quhat intreatment sall I get,
I pray ȝow in my bed?
Bot with ane lairbair for to ly,
Ane auld deid stock, baith cauld and dry,
And all my dayes heir I deny,
That he my schankes sched,
36
His eine half sunkin in his heid,
His Lyre far caulder than the leid,
His frostie flesch as he war deid,
Will for na happing heit:
Vnhealthsum hosting euer mair,
His filthsum flewme is nathing fair,
Ay rumisching with rift and rair,
Now, wow gif that be sweit,
37.
His skynne hard clappit to the bane,
With Gut and Grauell baith ouirgane,
Now quhen thir troubles hes him tane,
His wyfe gets all the wyte:
For Venus gaines I let them ga,
I gesse hee be not gude of thay,
I could weill of his maners ma,
Gif I list till indyte.
Macrell.
38
For Venus game cure not a cuit,
Waill me ane Wamfler that can do' it,
Sen thair may be na vther buit,
Plat on his head ane horne:
Handill me that with wit and skill,
Ȝe may haue easments at ȝour will,
At nicht gar ȝoung men cum ȝow till,
Put them away at morne.
Emily.
39
Gude-wyfe, all is bot vaine ȝe seik,
To mee of sik maters to speik,
Ȝour purpois is not worth ane leik,
I will heir ȝow na mair:
Mark Dame, and this is all and sum,
If euer ȝe this earand cum,
Or of ȝour head I heir ane mum,
Ȝea sall repent it fair.
Macrell.
40
Ȝon daintie Dame scho is sa nyce
Sche'ill nocht be win be na deuyce,
For nouther prayer nor for pryce,
For gould nor vther gaine.
Scho is sa ackwart and sa thra,
That with refuse I come hir fra,
Scho, be Sanct Marie saynde mee sa,
I dar not ga agane,
Philotus enteris in conference with the Madynis father.
41.
Gude Gosse, sen ȝe haue euer bene,
My trew and auld familiar freind,
To mak mair quentance vs betwene,
I glaidly could agrie:
Ȝe haue ane douchter quhome vntill,
I beare ane passing grit gude will,
Quhais Phisnomie prefigures skill,
With wit and honestie.
42
Gif mee that Lasse to be my wyfe,
For Tocher-gude sall be na stryfe,
Beleiue mee scho sall haue ane lyfe,
And for ȝour geir I cair not:
Faith ȝe ȝour self sall modifie,
Hir Lyfe, Rent, Land and Coniunct fie,
And Gossop, quhair thay same sall be,
Appoynt the place and spair not.
43
Betwixt vs twa the Heyris-maill,
Sall bruik my heritage all haill,
Quhilks gif that thay happen to faill,
To her Heyris quhat saeuer:
My moueables I will deuyde,
Ane pairt my Douchter to prouyde,
Ane pairt to leaue sum freind asyde,
Quhen deith sall vs disseuer.
Alberto.
44
Gude sir, and gossop I am glaid,
That all be done as ȝe haue said,
Tak baith my blissing and the Mayd,
Hame to ȝour hous togidder:
And gif that scho play not hir pairt,
In onie lawfull honest airt,
And honour ȝow with all hir hairt,
I wald sho gaid not thither.
Alberto speiks to his Dochter.
45
For the ane man I haue foreseine,
Ane man of micht and welth I meine,
That staitlier may the susteine,
Nor ony of all thy kin:
Ane man of honour and renoun,
Ane of the Potentes of the toun:
Quhair nane may beinlier sit doun,
This Citie all within.
Emily.
46
God and gude nature dois allow,
That I obedient be to ȝow,
And father hithertils I trow,
Ȝe haue nane vtherseine:
And als estemis ȝow for to be,
Ane louing father vnto mee,
Thairfoir deir father let mee see,
The man of quhome ȝe meine.
Alberto.
47
Philotus is the man indeid,
Quhair thow ane nobill lyfe may leid,
With quhome I did sa far proceid,
Wee want bot thy gude will:
Now giue thy frie consent thairfoir,
Deck vp and do thy self decoir,
Gang quickly to and say no moir,
Thow man agrie thairtill.
Emilie.
48
Gif ȝe fra furie wald refraine,
And patientlie heir me agane,
I sould ȝow schaw in termis plane,
With reason ane excuse:
Sen Mariage bene but thraldome free,
God and gude nature dois agree,
That I quhair as it lykes not mee,
May lawfullie refuse.
49
I am fourtene, and hee fourescoir,
I haill and sound, hee seik and soir,
How can I giue consent thairfoir,
Or ȝit till him agree?
Iudge gif Philotus be discreit,
To seik ane match sa far vnmeit,
Thocht I refuse him father sweit,
I pray ȝow pardon nice.
Alberto.
50
How durst thow trumper be sa bald
To rant or tell, that he was ald?
Or durst refuse ocht that I wald,
Haue bidden the obey:
Bot sen ȝe stand sa lytill aw,
Ise gar ȝow Maistres for to knaw,
The Impyre Parents hes belaw,
Abuif thair Children ay.
51
And heir to God I mak ane vow,
Bot gif thow at my bidding bow,
I sall the dresse and harkin how,
And syne aduyse the better:
I sall thee cast intill ane pit,
Quhair thow for ȝeir and day sall sit,
With breid and water surely knit
Hard boundintill ane fetter.
52
Thow sat sa soft vpon thy stuill.
That making off maid the ane fuill,
Bot I sall mak thy curage euill,
For all thy stomack stout:
That efterwards quhill that thow leif,
Thou's be agast mee for to greif.
Perchance thow greines that play to preif,
Aduyse thee and speik out.
Emily.
53
Sweit father, mitigate ȝour rage,
Ȝour wraith and anger sir, asswage,
Haue pitie on my ȝouthlie age,
Ȝour a win flesch and ȝour blude:
Gif in ȝour yre I be ouerthrawin.
Quhome haue ȝe wraikit bot ȝour awin,
Sik creweltie hes not bene knawin,
Amang the Turkes sa rude.
54
The sauage beists into thair kynde,
Thair ȝoung to pitie ar inclynde,
Let mercie thairfoir muif ȝour mynde,
To her that humblie cryis:
Tak vp and lenifie ȝour yre,
Suspend the furie of ȝour fyre.
And grant me layser, I desyre,
Ane lytill to aduyse.
Heir followis the Oratioun of the ȝonker Flavius to the Madyn, hir answer and consent, The convoying of her from her father: her father and the auld wower follow is, and finds Philerno the Madyns brother laitlie arryued, quhome thay tak to be the Madyn, and of his deceit.
THe raging low, the feirce and flaming fyre
That dois my breist and body al combure
Iucendit with the dart of grit desyre,
Fra force of these twa sparking eyis ful sure,
Hes me constraynit to cum and seik my cure
Of her, fra quhom proceidit hes my wound,
Quhom neyther Salue nor Syrop can assure,
Bot only sho can mak me saif and sound.
56
Lyke as the captiue with ane tyrant taine,
Perforce with promise toistit to and fro,
Quhen that he seis all vther graces gaine,
Man succour seik of him that wrocht his wo,
Samon I fald to my maist freindly fo,
To seik for salue of her that gaue the sair:
To pray for peace, thocht rigour bid me go,
To cry for mercie, quhen as I may na mair.
57
Sa sen ȝe haue me captiuate as thrall,
Sen ȝe preuaill, let pitie now haue place:
Haue mercie sen ȝe Maistres ar of all,
Grudge not to grant ȝour supplicant sum grace
To slay ane taine man, war bot lack allace,
Fra that he cum voluntarlie in will:
Sen I am, Mistres, in the self same cace,
Ane thrall consenting pitie war to spill.
58
Quhat ferly thocht, puir I with luif opprest
Confes the force of the blynd Archer Boy?
How was Appollo for his Daphne drest,
And Mars amasit his Venus to enjoy,
Did not the thundering Iupiter convoy
For Danae him self into ane showre,
The gods aboue sen luif hath maid them coy,
Vnto his law then quhy sould I not lowre?
59
As taine with ane nor Daphne mair decoir
Quhais vult to Venus may compairit be:
And bene in bewtie Danae befoir.
Suppose the God on hir did cast his eye:
Quhais graces to hir bewtie dois agrie,
And in quhais fairnes is no foly found,
Quhat meruell Mistres than, suppose ȝe se,
With willing band me to ȝour bewtie bound.
60
Quhais bricht conteyning bewtie with the beamis
Na les al vther pulchritude dois pas
Nor to compair ane clud w
t glansing gleames,
Bricht Venus cullour with ane landwart las:
The quhytest layke bot with the blackest asse,
The rubent Rois bot with the wallowit weid
As purest gold is preciouser nor glasse,
Ȝour bewtie sa all vther dois exceid.
61
Ȝour hair lyk gold, & lyke the Pole ȝour eye
Ȝour snawisch cheiks lyke quhytest Allabast,
Ȝour louesum lips sad, soft, and sweit wee sie,
As Roses red quhen that ane showre is past:
Ȝour toung micht mak Demosthenes agast,
Ȝour teith y
e peirls micht of thair place depryue
With Bwillis of Indian Ebur at the last
Ȝour Papis for the prioritie dois stryue.
62
And lyke as quhen the stamping seale is set
In wax weill wrocht, quhill it is soft I say,
The prent thairof remayning may ȝe get,
Suppois the seale it self be tane away,
Ȝour semlie shaip sa sall abyde for ay,
Quhilk throw the sicht my sensis hes ressaifit,
Thocht absent ȝe, ȝit I sall nicht and day,
Ȝour presence haue as in my hart ingraifit.
63
Thocht fansie be bot of ane figure fainit,
Na figure feids quhair thair is na effect:
Euin sa sweit saull I perisch bot as painit,
With fansie fed that will na fasting breck,
Suppois I haue the accident quhat reck,
Grant me the solide substance to atteine,
Gif not, quhen ȝe to deith sall me direct,
Quhom bot ȝour awin haue ȝe cōfoundit clein?
64
Last, sen ȝe may my meladie remeid,
Releiue ȝour Sysiphus of his restles stane:
Ȝour Titius breist that dois full ryfely bleid,
Grant grace thairto, befoir the grip be gane,
Cum stanche the thrist of Tantalus anone,
And cure ye wounds geuin with Achilles knyfe
Accept for ȝours fair Maistres, such a one,
That for ȝour saik dar sacrifice his lyfe.
Emily.
65
ȜOVR Orisoun sir sounds with sic skil
In Cupids Court as ȝe had bene vpbrocht:
Or fosterit in Parnassus forkit Hill
Quhair Poetis hes thair flame and furie socht
Nocht taisting of sweit Helicon for nocht,
As be ȝour plesant preface dois appeir:
Tending thairby, quhill as we haue na thocht,
To mak vs to ȝour purpois to adheir.
66
With louing language tending till allure,
With sweit discourse the simpill till ouirsyle,
Ȝe cast ȝour craft, ȝour cunning and ȝour cure,
Bot puir Orphanes and Madynis to begyle,
Ȝour waillit out words, inventit for a wyle,
To trap all those that trowis in ȝow na traine
The frute of flattrie is bot to defyle,
And spred that wee can neuer get agane.
67
Ȝe gar vs trow that all our heids be cowit,
In praysing of our bewtie by the Skyis:
Quhē w
t ȝour words we ar na mair bot mowit
This way to sie gif vs ȝe may suppryse,
Ȝour doubill hart dois euerie day deuyse,
Ane thowsand shifts was neuer in ȝour thocht,
Ȝe labour thus with all that in ȝow lyis,
For till vndo, and bring vs all to nocht.
68
And this conceate is common to ȝow all,
For ȝour awin lust, ȝe set not by our schame,
Ȝour sweitest word, ar seasonit all with gall,
Ȝour fairest phrase, disfigures bot defame,
I think thairfoir thay gritlie ar to blame,
That trowis in ȝow mair nor the thing thay se
Bot I, quhill that Emilia is my Name
To trow I sall lyke to Sanct Thomas be.
Flavius.
69
For feir sweit maistres quhat remeid
Quha may perswade quhair thair is dreid:
Ȝit deme ȝe wrangouslie in deid,
Now be my saull I sweir:
Ȝour honour, not ȝour schame I seik,
I count not by my lust ane leik,
It was na sik thing Maistres meik,
That maid me to cum heir.
70
This is my sute ȝe sall me trust,
Iudge ȝe ȝour self gif it be just,
In honest luif and honest lust,
With ȝow to leid my lyfe:
This is the treuth of my intent,
In lawfull lufe bot onlie bent,
Aduyse ȝow gif ȝe can consent,
To be my weddit wyfe.
Emily.
71
Sir surelie gif I vnderstude,
Ȝour meining for to be as gude,
I think in ane wee sould conclude,
Befoir that it wer lang:
I am content to be ȝour wyfe,
To lufe and serue ȝow all my lyfe,
Bot rather slay me with a knyfe,
Nor offer me ane wrang.
72
Bot sir, ane thing I haue to say,
My father hes this vther day,
In Mariage promisit me away,
Vpon ane deid auld man:
With quhome thocht I be not content,
Till nane vther he will consent,
Mak to thairfoir for till invent
Ane convoy, gif ȝow can.
73
Lykewayis ȝow mon first to me sweir,
That ȝe to me sall do na deir,
Nor sall not cum my bodie neir,
For villanie nor ill:
Ay quhill the Nuptiall day sall stand,
And farther sir, gif mee ȝour hand,
With me for to compleit the band,
And promeis to fulfill.
Flavius.
74
Haue thair my hand with al my hart
And faithfull promeis for my part,
Na tyme to change quhill deithis dart,
Put till my lyfe ane end:
Bot be ane Husband traist and trew,
For na suspect that anis sall rew,
Bot readie ay to do my dew,
And neuer till offend.
Emily.
75
All day quhairto the tr
[...]th to tell,
I dar nocht with that matter mel,
Bot ȝit I sall deuyse my sell,
Ane schift to serue our turne:
For keiping stairt baith lait and air,
Vnsend-furth may I neuer fair,
Make I ane mint and do na mair,
I may for euer murne.
76
Quhen I haue vnbethocht me thryse,
I can na better way deuyse,
Bot that I man me disagyse,
In habite of ane man:
Thus I but danger or but dout,
This busines may bring about,
In mans array vnkend pas out,
For ocht my keipars can.
77
Thairfoir ȝe sall gang and prouyde,
Ane Pages claithis in the meine tyde,
For all occasions me besyde,
Against I haue ado:
Let me euin as thay list me call,
Or quhat sumeuer me befall,
I hope within thrie dayis I sall,
Cum quyetly ȝow to.
Flavius.
78
Be my awin meins I sall atteine,
And send to ȝow thay claithis vnsene,
Convoy lat sie all things sa cleine,
That neuer nane suspeck:
I will wait on my self and meit ȝow,
To se ȝour new claiths as thay set ȝow,
The Carle that hecht sa weill to treit ȝow,
I think sall get ane geck.
Emilie.
79
I haue won narrowlie away,
Ȝon Carle half put me in effray,
He lay in wait and waiting ay,
In changing aff my claithis:
Sir, let vs ga out of his sicht,
Sen I am frie, my freind gude-nicht,
He lukis as all things war not richt,
Lo ȝonder quhair he gais.
Flavius.
80
My onlie luif and Ladie quhyte,
My darling deir and my delyte,
How sall I euer the requyte,
This grit gude will let see:
That but respect that men callis schame,
Nor haȝart of thy awin gude name,
For brute, for blasphemie nor blame,
Hes venterit all for mee.
Stephano Albertus Servant.
81
Maister full far I haue ȝow socht,
And full ill newes I haue ȝow brocht,
The thing allace, I neuer thocht,
Hes happinnit ȝow this day:
Ȝour douchter sir (ȝe had bot ane)
Ane mannis claithis hes on hir tane,
And quyetlie hes hir earand gaue,
I can not tell quhat way.
82
I wonderit first and was agast,
Bot quhen I saw that sho was past,
I followit efter wonder fast,
Ȝit was I not the better:
Scho schiftit hes hir self asyde,
And in sum hous sho did hir hyde,
Na sir, quhat euer sall betyde,
It will be hard to get her.
Alberto.
83
Fals pewtene hes scho play it that sport
Hes scho me handlit in this sort?
To God I vow cum I athort,
And lay on hir my handis:
I sall hir ane exampill mak,
To trumpers all durst vndertak,
For to commit sa foull ane fack,
Quhill that this Citie standis.
84
Vylde vagabound fals harlot hure,
Had sho na schame, tuke sho na cure,
Of Parentis that hir gat and bure,
Nor blude of quhilk sho sprang:
All honest bewtie to dispyse,
And lyke ane man hir disagyse,
Vnwomanlie in sik ane wyse,
As gudget for to gang.
85
Fals mischant, full of all mischeif,
Dissaitfull traitour, commoun theif,
Of all thy kin curit not the greif,
For fleschly foull delyte:
Quha sall into sik trumpers trust?
Quhais wickit wayis ar sa vnjust,
And led with lewd licentious lust,
And beastlie appetyte.
Philotus.
86
O sex vncertaine, frayle and fals,
Dissimulate and dissaitfull als,
With honie lips to hald in hals,
Bot with ane wickit mynde:
Quhome will dois mair nor reasoun mufe,
Mair lecherie nor honest lufe,
Mair harlotrie nor gude behufe,
Vnconstant and vnkynde.
87
In quhome ane shaw, bot na shame sinks,
That ane thing sayis and vther thinks:
Ane eye lukis vp, ane vther winks,
With fair and feinȝe it face:
Bot Gossop go, quhill it is greine,
For to seik out quha hes hir seine,
Gif of hir moyen wee get ane meine,
It war ane happie grace.
Philerno.
88
Gude sirs is nane of ȝow can tell,
In quhat streit dois Alberto dwell,
Or be quhat singe Ile knaw my sell,
Gude brethren all about:
For thocht I be his Sone and Heyre,
I knaw him not a myte the mair,
And to this Town dois now repair,
My father to find out.
Alberto.
89
Ȝea harlote, trowit thow for to skip
Sen I haue gottin of the ane grip,
Be Christ I sall thy nurture nip,
Richt scharply or wee sched:
For God nor I rax in ane raip,
And euer thow fra my hand escaip,
Quhill I haue pullit the lyke ane Paip,
Quhair nane sall be to red.
Philotus.
90
Rage not gude gosse, bot hald ȝour toung
The las bot bairnlie is and ȝoung,
I wald be laith to wit hir dung,
Suppose scho hath offendit:
Forgiue hir this ane fault for mee,
And I sall souertie for hir bee,
That instantly sho sall agree,
That this slip sould be mendit.
Philerno
91
Father I grant my haill offence,
Thir claithes I haue tane till ga hence,
And gif it please ȝow till dispence,
With thir things that ar past:
Thir bygane faultes will ȝe forgiue,
And efter father quhili I liue,
Agane I sall ȝow neuer greiue,
Quhill that my lyfe may last.
92
Schaw me the maner and the way,
And I ȝour bidding sall obey,
And neuer sall ȝour will gane say,
Bot be at ȝour command:
Alberto.
This fault heir frelie I forgiue thee,
Philotus is the man releiues thee,
Or vtherwayis I had mischeifit thee,
And now giue mee thy hand.
93
This is my ordinance and will,
Giue thy consent Philotus till,
To marie him and to fulfill,
That godlie blissit band:
Philerno.
Father, I hartlie am content,
And heirto giues my full consent,
For it richt fair wald mee repent,
Gif I sould ȝow gainstand.
Philotus.
94
Heir is my hand my darling dow,
To be ane faithfull spous to ȝow,
Now be my saull Gossop I trow,
This is ane happie meiting:
This mater Gosse, is sa weill drest,
That all things ar cumde for the best,
Bot let vs set amang the rest,
Ane day for all compleiting.
Alberto.
95
Ane Moneth and na langer day,
For it requyres na grit delay,
Tak thair ȝour wyfe with ȝow away,
And vse hir as ȝe will:
Philotus.
Forsuith ȝe sall ga with me hame,
Quhair I sall keip ȝow saif fra schame,
Vnto the day, or than mee blame,
That scho sall haue nane ill.
Plesant.
96
Quha euer saw in all thair lyfe,
Twa cappit Cairlis mak sik ane stryfe,
To tak a ȝoung man for his wyfe,
Ȝon cadgell wald be glaid:
The feind resaue the feckles frunt,
Put doun thy hand and graip hir cunt,
The Carle kennis not, he is sa blunt,
Gif scho be man or maid.
97
Auld guckis the mundie, sho is a gillie,
Scho is a Colt-foill, not a fillie,
Scho wants a dow, bot hes a pillie,
That will play the ane passe:
Put doun thy hand vane Carle and graip,
As thay had wont to cheis the Paip,
For thow hes gotten ane joke jaip,
In lykenes of ane Lasse.
Philotus speiks to his Dochter Brisila.
98
Brisilla Dochter myne giue eir,
A Mother I haue brocht the heir,
To mee a wyfe and darling deir,
I the command thairfoir
Hir honour, serue, obey and luif,
Wirk ay the best for hir behuif,
To pleis hir sie thy pairt thow pruif,
With wit and all devoit.
Philotus to his new Bryde.
99
Vse hir euen as ȝour awin my dow,
Keip hir, for sho sall ly with ȝow,
Quhill I may lawfullie avow,
To lay ȝow be my syde:
Philerno.
I sall ȝour dochter Husband sweit,
Na les nor my companȝeoun treit,
And follow baith at bed and meit,
Quhill that I be ane bryde.
Philerno to Brisilla.
100
How dois the quheill of Fortoun go,
Quhat wickit weird hes wrocht our wo?
Brisilla ȝouris and myne also,
Vnhappilie, I say:
Our fathers baith hes done agrie,
That I to ȝouris, euin as ȝe sie,
And ȝe to myne sall maryit be,
And all vpon ane day.
101
Hard is our hap and luckles chance.
Quha pities vs suppose wee pance?
Full oft this mater did I skance,
Bot with my self befoir:
I haue bene threatnit and forflittin,
Sa oft that I am with it bittin,
Invent a way or it be wittin,
And remedie thairfoir.
Brisilla.
120
Maistres allace for sik remeid,
That sik ane purpois sould proceid,
I wald wisch rather to be deid,
Nor in that maner matchit:
Quhat aillit ȝe Parentes to prepair.
Ȝour Childrens deip continuall cair,
Ȝour crewell handes quhy did ȝe spair,
First vs to haue dispatchit.
103
Vnnaturall fathers now quhairfoir?
Wald ȝe ȝour dochters thus deuoir?
For ȝour vane fantasies far moir,
Nor onie gude respeck:
Is it not doittrie hes ȝow dreuin,
Haiknayis to seik for haist to Heauin?
I trow that all the warld euin,
Sall at ȝour guckrie geck.
104
Solace to seik them selues to sla,
Ane myre to misse thay fall in ma:
Thay get bot greif quhen as thay ga,
To get thair greitest game:
And wee ȝoung things tormentit to,
Thair daffing dois vs swa vndo,
Gif thay be wyse, thair doings lo,
Will signifie the same.
Philerno.
105
It profeitis not for to compleine,
Let vs forsie our selues betwene,
How wee this perrell may preueine,
And saif vs fra thair snairis:
Gif that the Goddes, as thay weill can,
Wald mee transforme intill ane man,
Wee twa our selues sould marie than,
And saif vs fra thair cairis,
Brisilla.
106
Mak ȝow a mā, that is bot mowis
To think thairon ȝour greif bot growis,
For that deuyse deuill haid it dowis,
Sen it can neuer be:
Philerno.
Quhy not? gif that with faith we pray
For oft the Goddes as I hard say,
Hes done the lyke and ȝit thay may,
Perchance till vs agrie.
107
That Iphis was a Mayd we reid,
And swa did for hir prayer speid,
For verie reuth the Goddes indeid,
Transformde hir in ane man:
Pigmaleons prayer purchast lyfe,
Vnto his new eburneall wyfe,
Quhais handis had caruit hir with ane knyfe,
With visage paill and wan.
108
Quhy may not now als weill as than,
The Goddes convert me in ane man,
The lyke gif that my prayer can,
I surelie will assay:
Maist secreit Goddes Celestiall,
Ȝe michtie Muifers greit and small,
And Heauinlie powers ane and all,
Maist humblie I ȝow pray,
109
Luke doun from ȝour impyre aboue,
And from ȝour heich triumphant Trone,
Till vs puir saullis send succour sone,
Of ȝour maist speciall grace:
Behald how wee puir Madynis murne,
For feir and luif how baith wee burne,
Thairfoir intill ane man mee turne,
For till eschew this cace.
110
Behald our Parents hes opprest,
And by all dew thair Dochters drest,
With vnmeit matches to molest,
Vs sillie saullis ȝe sie:
Thairfoir immortall Goddes of grace,
Grant that our prayeris may tak place,
Conuert my kynde, this cairfull cace,
With solace to supplie.
Plesant.
111
Ane faith perfumit with fyne folie,
And monie vane word alla-volie,
Thy prayer is not halfsa holie,
House-lurdane as it semis:
Bot all inventit for a wyle,
Thy bedfallow for to begyle,
The bonie Lasse bot to defyle,
Na dowbilnes that demes.
Brisilla.
112
Maistris quhat now? bethink ye dreme.
Or than to be in sowne ȝe seime:
Scho lyis als deid, quhat sall I deime,
Of this vnhappie chance?
Scho will not heir me for na cryis,
For plucking on scho will not ryis,
Sa larbair-lyke lo as scho lyis,
As raueist in a trance.
Philerno.
113
O blisfull Deitis diuyne,
Maist happie conuent, Court and Tryne,
That dois ȝour glorious eiris inclyne,
Our prayeris to adheir:
We rander thanks vnto ȝow all,
For heiring vs quhen that wee call,
And ridding vs from bondage thrall,
As plainlie dois appeir.
114
I am ane man Brisilla lo,
And with all necessaris thairto,
May all that onie man may do,
I sall gar ȝow considder:
Now sen the Goddis abone hes brocht,
This wonderous wark, and hes it wrocht,
And grantit all euin as wee socht,
Let vs be glaid togidder.
Brisilla.
115
Now sen the Gods hes succour sent
And done euen as wee did invent,
My joy I hartly am content,
To do as ȝe deuyse:
Throw Gods decreit my onlie choyse,
In mutuall luif wee sall rejoyse,
Our furious fathers baith suppose
Thay wald skip in the Skyis.
Philotus.
116
My dow suppois I did delay,
Now cum is our sweit Nuptiall day,
Thairfoir mak haist sooa that wee may,
In tyme cum to the Kirk:
Philerno
Ga quhen ȝe list sir, I am readie,
Thair is ane Gus-heid, for be our Ladie,
I was ȝour Sone, and ȝe my Dadie,
This morning in the mirk.
Minister.
117
I dout not bot ȝe vnderstand,
How God is Authour of this band,
And the actioun that wee haue in hand,
He did himself out set:
To that effect all men I meine,
Micht keip thair bodyes puir and cleine,
Fra Fornication till absteine,
And Children to beget.
118
Bot sen the mater cums athort,
Ilk vther day, I will be schort,
And dois the parties baith exhort,
To charitie and luif:
Tak heir this woman for your wyfe,
Keip, luif and cherisch hir but stryfe,
All vther als terme of your lyfe,
Saif hir ȝe sall remuif.
119
Tak for ȝour Spous Philotus than,
Obey and luif him as ȝe can,
Forsaik for him all vther man,
Quhill deith do ȝow disseuer:
The Lord to sanctifie and blesse ȝow,
His grace and fauour als I wisch ȝow,
Let not his luif and mercie misse ȝow,
Bot be with ȝow for euer.
Flavius conjuration.
120
O mercie God, how may this be?
Ȝon is indeid richt Emilie,
In forme of hir a faith I sie,
Sum Deuill hes me desaifit:
I will in haist thairfoir gang hame,
Expell ȝon Spreit for sin and schame,
And to tell me the awin richt Name,
For Gods caus I will craif it.
121
The Croce of God our Sauiour sweit,
To saif and sane me fra that Spreit,
That thow na hap haue for to meit,
With me in all thy lyfe:
In Gods behalf I charge the heir,
That thow straik in my hart na feir,
Bot pas thy way and do na deir,
To neyther man nor wyfe.
122
First I conjure the be Sanct Marie,
Be Alrisch King and Queene of Farie,
And be the Trinitie to tarie,
Quhill thow the treuth haue taull:
Be Christ and his Apostilles twell;
Be Sanctis of Heuin and hewis of Hell,
Be auld Sanct Tustian him sell,
Be Peter and be Paull.
123
Be Mathew, Mark, be Luik and Iohne,
Be Lethe, Stir and Acherone,
Be hellishe faries euerie one,
Quhair Pluto is the Prince:
That thow depart and do na wonder,
Be lichtning, quhirle wind, hayle nor thunder,
That beast nor bodie get na blunder,
Nor harme quhen thow gais hence.
124
Throw power I charge the of the Paip,
Thow neyther girne, gowl, glowme, nor gaip,
Lyke Anker saidell lyke vnsell Aip,
Lyke Owle nor Alrische Elfe:
Lyke fyrie Dragon full of feir,
Lyke Warwolf, Lyon, Bull nor Beir,
Bot pas ȝow hence as thow come heir,
In lykenes of thy selfe.
Emily.
125
Gude-man quhat meine ȝe ocht bot gude
Quha hes ȝow put in sik ane mude?
Befoir I neuer vnderstude,
The forme of ȝour conjuring:
Flarius.
I charge the ȝit as of befoir,
Pas hence and troubill me no moir,
Trowis thow to draw me ouir the scoir,
Fals feind with thy alluring.
Emily.
126
Gude-man quhat misteris all thir mowis?
As ȝe war cumbred with the cowis,
Ȝe ac I think lyke Iohne of Lowis,
Or ane out of his mynde:
Flavius.
In Gods behalfe I the beseiche,
Impesche me not with word nor speiche,
Ill Spreit, to God I me beteiche,
Fra the and al thy kynde.
Plesant.
127
Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha,
The feind resaue the lachters a,
Quhilk is the wysest of vs twa,
Man quhidder thow or I?
Flemit fuill, hes thow not tint thy feill,
That takis thy wyfe to be ane Deill,
Thow is far vainest I wait weill,
Speir at the standers by.
Flavius.
128
I charge the ȝit as I haue ellis,
Be halie relickis, Beidis and Bellis,
Be Ermeitis that in desertis dwellis,
Be Lumitoris and Tarlochis:
Besweit Sanct Steuin stanit to the deid,
And be Sanct Iohne his halie heid,
Be Merling, Rymour and be Beid,
Be witchis and be warlochis.
129
Be Sanct Maloy, be Moyses Rod,
Be Mahomeit the Turkisch God,
Be Iulian and Sanct Elous nod,
Be Bernard and be Bryde:
Be Michaell that the Dragon dang,
Be Gabriell and his auld sang,
Be Raphaell in tyme of thrang,
That is to be as gyde.
Emily.
130
My luif, I think it verie lyke,
That ȝe war Licht or Lunatyke,
Ȝe feir, ȝe fray, ȝe fidge, ȝe fyke,
As with a Spreit possest:
Quhat is the mater that ȝe mene?
Quhat garris ȝow braid? quhair haue ȝe bene?
Quhat aillis ȝow joy? quhat haue ȝe sene?
To rage with sik vnrest.
Flavius.
131
Quhat haue I sene fals hound of Hell
I trowit quhen I did with the mell,
Thow was richt Emilie thy sell,
Not ane incarnate Deuill:
Bot I richt now with my awin Eine,
Richt Emilie haue maryit seine,
Sa thow mon be ane Spreit vncleine,
Lord saif me fra thy euill.
132
Be vertew of the halie Ghaist,
Depairt out of myne hous in haist,
And God quhais power and micht is maist,
Conserue me fra thy cummer:
Gang hence to Hell or to the Farie,
With me thow may na langer tarie,
For quhy? I sweir the be Sanct Marie,
Thows be nane of my nummer.
Philerno.
133
Gar wsche this hous for it grows lait
Husband I haue for to debait,
With ȝow a lytill of estait,
Befoir wee go to bed:
Sen I am ȝoung and ȝe ar auld,
My curage kene, and ȝe bot cauld,
The ane mon to the vther fauld,
A faith defoir we sched.
Philotus,
134
We wil not for the maistrie stryne,
We mon grie better and we thryue,
Philerno.
Na be my saull we is wit belyue,
Quha gets the vpper hand:
Indeid thow sall beir mee a beuell,
For with my Neiues I sall the nauell,
Auld custrone Carle tak thair a reuell,
Than do as I command.
Philotus.
135
I sie it cummis to cuffis the man,
Ileend the play that thow began,
That victorie thow neuer wan,
That sall be bocht sa deir:
Ha mercie, mercie Emilie,
Tak ȝe the maistrie all for me,
For I sall at ȝour bidding be,
And slay me not I sweir.
Plesant.
136
Wel clappit burd quhan wil ȝe kisse?
Auld fuill, the feind resaue the misse,
Ȝe trowit to get ane burd of blisse,
To haue ane of thir Maggies:
Quhat think ȝe now? how is the cace,
Now ȝe'ill all doit, allace, allace,
Now grace and honour on that face,
Quod Robein to the Haggies.
Philerno.
137
Than hecht in haist thairfoir that thow
Sall readie at my bidding bow,
Quhat euer I do thow sall allow,
My fansie to fulfill:
Sa gang I out, sa cum I in,
Sa gif I waist, sa gif I win,
Quhat euer I do mak ȝe na din,
Bot let me wirk my will.
138
Thou may not speir the caus, & quhy,
Quhen that I list not with ȝow ly,
Quhat I the did, and thow deny,
Wee will not weill agrie:
Quhen that I pleis furth to repair
Speir not the cumpanie, nor quhair:
Content thy self and mak na mair.
I man thy maister be.
Philotus.
139
I am content quhen & how sone,
All till obey that ȝe inione,
That ȝe command it man be done
Thair is nane vther buit:
Philerno.
Quhat is ȝour pryce Damesall fair?
Quhat tak ȝe for a nichts lair?
Huir.
Ȝe sall a Croun vpon me spair,
Bot quhom with sal I do it?
Philerno.
140
Ile get a man, haue heir a Croun,
Bot be weill strange quhen ȝely doun,
Mak nyce and gar the Larbair lowne,
Beleue ȝe be a Mayd:
Huir.
The ȝoungest Las in all this Citie,
Sall byde na mair requeist nor treitie,
Ile cry as I war huirt for pitie,
Quhen I am with him laid.
Emily.
141
Now sen my Husband hes done la
But caus for to put me him fra,
I will vnto my father ga,
Befoir his feit to faid:
Father sa far I did offend,
That I may not my mis amend,
And am ouir pert for to pretend
Ȝour dochter to be cald.
Alberto.
142
Lament not, let that mater be,
Thy faltis ar buriet all with me.
Betwixt thy Husband now and thee,
Is onie new debait?
Emily.
I know of nane, bot hee indeid,
Hes put mee fra him, quhat remeid?
And will na mair sik fosteris feid,
He sayis of myne estait?
Alberto.
143
Quhat is the mater that ȝe meine
Against all ordour clair and cleine,
Schut hame ȝour wyfe that hes not bene,
Ȝit fyue dayes in ȝour aucht:
Is this ane plesant godlie lyfe,
To be in barrace, sturt and stryfe,
The feind wald faine man be ȝour wyfe,
Can neuer sit in saucht.
Philotus.
144
Knew ȝe the treuth gude-man I trow
Hirlabour ȝe sould not allow,
Luke all my face, behald my brow,
That is baith blak and bla:
Alberto.
It may weill be, I can not tell,
That scho durst with that mater mell,
Let hir mak answer for hir sell,
To sie gif it be sa.
145
Dochter gaue I the this commend,
That thow thy Husband sould ganestand,
How durst thow Huir, him with thy hand,
Put to the point of felling?
Emily.
That war grit wrang sir, gif sa bee,
Bot hee na Husband is to mee,
Than how could wee twa disagree,
That neuer had na melling.
Alberto.
146
Na melling Mistris? wil ȝe than
Deny the Mariage of that man,
In face of holie Kirk quha can,
This open deid deny?
Emily.
Let resoun sir with ȝow preuaill,
Condemne mee not first in the faill,
Befoir that ȝe haue hard my taill,
The treuth syne may ȝe try.
147
Now this is all that I wald say,
That Flavius tuke mee away,
About a Moneth and a day,
Drest in a Varlets weid:
With quhome I haue bene euer still,
Ane vther Emilie ay and quhill,
Hee saw ȝow giue Philotus till,
And than in verie deid,
148
Supponing mee ane Deuill of Hell,
With crewell conjuratiounes fell,
Did mee out of his hous expell,
As with a Bogill bazed:
As ane out of his mynde or marrit,
He hes mee of his hous debarrit,
I can not tell quhat hes him skarrit,
Or hes the man amazed▪
Alberto.
149
This purpois gosse, appeirs to me
Sa wonder nyce and strange to be,
That wee to wit the veritie,
For Flavius man send:
Sir gif ȝe could declair vs now,
How lang this woman was with ȝow,
And all the maner quhen and how,
Wee wald richt gladlie kend.
Flavius.
150
Sa far Alberto as I knaw,
I sell the suith vnto ȝow schaw.
Quhen I ȝour Douchters bewtie I saw,
I offerit hir gude-will:
Accepting than the promise maid,
Cled lyke a Boy but mair abaid,
Fra ȝow dissaitfullie scho slaid,
And come myne hous vntill.
151
Quhair I hir keipit as my wyfe,
Tret, luifit and chereist hir for lyfe,
Quhill efter-ward fell out ane stryfe,
Thir maters all amang:
For plainlie in the Kirk I saw,
This man became ȝour Sone in law,
I did thairfoir perfytly knaw,
My Emilie was wrang.
152
And that some Spreit hir schaip had tane
Sen Emilies thair was bot ane,
I thairfoir to that Ghaist haue gane,
Conjuring hir my sell:
And fra my hous expellit hir to,
This woman seimis for to be scho,
Sensyne I had na mair ado,
With that fals feind of Hell.
Philotus.
153
Now Flavius, I wait richt well
Sen ane of them man be a Deill,
My maiglit face maks mee to feill,
That myne man be the same:
For quhy? richt Emilie is ȝouris,
And that incarnate Deuill is ouris,
I gat, ȝe may sie be my clouris,
A Deill vnto my Dame.
Philerno.
154
Heir I am cum to red the stryfe,
For I am neyther Deill nor Wyfe,
Bot am ane ȝoung man be my lyfe,
Ȝour Sone sir, and ȝour Air.
Quhome ȝe for Emilie haif tane.
And wald not sirs let mee allane,
Quhill ȝe saw quhat gait it is gane,
I can tell ȝow na mair.
Philotus.
155
A man, allace, and harmisay,
That with my only Dochter lay,
Syne dang my sell, quhat sall I say?
Of this vnhappie chance?
Haue I not maid a berrie block,
That hes for Iennie maryit Iock?
That mowit my Dochter for a mock,
The Deuill be at the dance.
156
Allace, I am for euer schamit,
To be thus in my eild defamit,
My Dochter is not to be blamit,
For I had all the wyte:
Auld men is twyse bairnis, I persaif,
The wysest will in wowing raif,
I for my labour with the laif,
Am driuin to this dispyte.
Alberto.
157
Gude gosse ȝour wraith to pacifie
Sen that thair may na better bee,
I am content my Sone that hee,
Sall with ȝour Dochter Marie:
Philerno.
I am content with hart and will,
This Mariage father to fulfill,
Quhat neidis Philotus to think ill,
Or ȝit his weird to warie.
Flavius.
158
Be frolick Flavius and faine,
To get thy Emilie againe
To deme my dow, was I not vaine,
That thow had bene a Spreit
Now sen I am fred fra that feir,
And vaine illusioun did appeir,
Welcum my darling and my deir,
My sucker and my sweit.
159
Gude sirs, quhat is thair mair ado,
Ilk ȝouth his lufe hes gotten lo,
Let vs thairfoir go quicklie to,
And marie with our maitts:
Let vs foure Lufers now rejoyse,
Ilk ane for to injoy his choyse,
Ane meiter matche nor ane of those,
For tender ȝoung estaitis.
160
Let vs all foure now with ane sang,
With mirth and melodie amang,
Giue gloir to God that in this thrang,
Hes bene all our releif:
That hes fra thraldome set vs frie,
And hes vs placit in sik degrie,
Ilk ane as hee wald wisch to be,
With glaidnes for his greif.
Ane sang of the foure Lufearis.
WERE Iacobs Sones mair joyfull for to se,
The waltring wawes king Pharaois Oist cōfound
Was Israel mair glaid in hart to be
Fred from all feir, befoir in bondage bound?
Quhen God thē brocht frō y
e Egiptian ground,
Was Mordocheus merier nor wee,
Quhen Artaxerxes alterit his decrie?
162
Was greiter glaidnes in the land of Greice
Quhen Iason come from Colchos hame agane
And conqueist had the famous golden Fleis,
With labour lang, with perrell and with pane?
The Father
Aeȝon was not half sa faine,
To sie his Sone returning with sik gloir,
As wee, quhais myndis ar satisfyit, and moir.
163
Gif onie joy into this Earth belaw,
Or warldlie plesour reput be perfyte,
Quhat greiter solace sall ȝe to mee shaw,
Nor till inioy ȝour hartis all haill delyte?
To haue ȝour Lufe and lustie Ladie quhyte,
In quhome ȝe may baith nicht and day rejoyse:
In quhome ȝe may ȝour plesures all repose.
164
Let vs thairfoir sen euin as we wald wisse,
Reciprocklie with leill and mutuall lufe,
As fleitand in the Fludes of joy and blisse,
With solace sing and sorrowes all remufe,
Let vs the fructes of present plesour prufe,
In recompence of all our former pane,
And miserie, quhairin wee did remane.
Philotus.
165
Bot now advert gude bretherin all about,
That of my labour hes the succes seine:
Ȝe that hes hard this haill discourse throw out,
May knaw how far that I abusit haue bene,
I grant indeid thair will na man me meine,
For I my self am authour of my greif,
That by my calling sould be caryit cleine,
With ȝouthlie toyis vnto sa greit mischeif.
166
Gif I had weyit my grauitie and age,
Rememberit als my first and auncient sait,
I had not sowmit in sik vnkyndlie rage,
For to disgrace mine honour and estait,
Quhat had I bocht bot to my self debait,
Suppois the mater had cum than as I meinit:
Nay my repentance is not half sa lait,
As I had gotin the thing quhairfoir I greinit.
167
For thocht my folie did the Lord offend,
Ȝit my gude God hes wrocht all for the best:
And this rebuik hes thairfoir to me send,
All sik inordinate doings to detest,
Quhilk sweit rebuik I reckin with the rest,
From fatherlie affection to proceid,
That vthers with lyke passiouns possest,
May leirne be my exampill to tak heid.
168
Sen age thairfoir suld gouernit be w
t skill
Let countenance accord with ȝour gray hairis
Ȝe auncients all, let resoun rewll ȝour will,
Subdew ȝour sensis till eschew thir snairis,
Gif ȝe wald not incombred be with cairis,
Be maister ouer ȝour awin affections haill:
For hailillie the praise is only thairs,
That may against sik passions preuaill.
The Messinger.
169
Gude sirs, now haue ȝe hard and sene this serse
Vnworthie of ȝour audience I grant,
Vnformailie set out in vulgar verse,
Of waillit out words and leirnit leid bot skant
The Courteours that Princes Hallis do hant,
I wait will neuer for my rudenes ruse mee:
Ȝit my gude-will for to supplie the want,
I hope sall of ȝour courtesies excuse mee.
170
For passing weil I haue imployit my panis
Swa that ȝe can be with the same content:
For dew regaird gude acceptiouns gaines,
And parties pleisit dois mak the tyme wel spēt
Gif God had greiter leirning to mee lent,
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I suld haue schawin the same w
t als gude will:
Wyte ignorance that I did not invent.
Ane seese that micht ȝour fantasies fulfill.
171
Last sirs, now let vs pray with ane accord,
For to preserue the persoun of our King:
Accounting ay this gift as of the Lord,
Ane prudent Prince aboue vs for to ring.
Than gloir to God, and praysis let vs sing,
The Father, Sone and halie Gaist our gyde,
Of his mercies vs to conduct and bring,
To Heuin for ay, in plesoures to abyde.
FINIS.