THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.

About ane bank, quhair birdis on bewis[1347]Ten thusand tymis thair notis renewisIlke[1348]houre into the day,The merle and maueis[1349]micht be sene,The progne and the phelomene[1350],Quhilk caussit me to stay.I lay and leynit me to ane busTo heir the birdis beir[1351];Thair mirth was sa melodiusThrow nature of the yeir:Sum singing, sum springingWith wingis into the sky;So trimlie and nimlieThir birdis they flew me by.I saw the hurcheon[1352]and the hair,Quha fed amangis the flowris fair,Wer happing to and fro.I saw the cunning[1353]and the cat,Quhais downis with the dew was wat,With mony beisties mo.The hart, the hynd, the dae, the rae,The fowmart[1354], and the foxeWar skowping[1355]all fra brae to brae,Amang the water broxe;Sum feiding, sum dreidingIn cais of suddain snairis:With skipping and trippingThay hantit[1356]all in pairis.The air was sa attemperate,But ony myst immaculate,Bot purefeit and cleir;The flowris fair wer flurischit,As Nature had them nurischitBaith delicate and deir[1357];And euery blome on branche and bewch[1358]So prettily wer spred,And hang their heidis out-ouir the hewch[1359]In Mayis colour cled;Sum knopping[1360], sum droppingOf balmie liquor sweit,Distelling and smellingThrow Phœbus hailsum heit.The cukkow and the cuschet[1361]cryde,The turtle, on the vther syde,Na plesure had to play;So schil[1362]in sorrow was her sangThat, throw hyr voice, the roches rang;For Eccho answerit ay,Lamenting sair Narcissus’ cace,Quha staruit[1363]at the well;Quha with the schaddow of his faceFor lufe did slay himsell.[1364]Quhylis weiping and creipingAbout the well he baid;Quhylis lying, quhylis crying,Bot it na answere maid.The dew as diamondis did hingVpon the tender twistis[1365]and ying,Owir-twinkling all the treis;And ay quhair flowris flourischit faireThair suddainly I saw repaireIn swarmes the sounding beis.Sum sweitly hes the hony socht,Quhil[1366]they war cloggit soir:Sum willingly the waxe hes wrocht,To heip it vp in stoir.So heiping with keiping,Into thair hyuis they hyde it,Precyselie and wyselieFor winter they prouyde it.To pen the pleasures of that park,How euery blossome, branche, and bark,Agaynst the sun did schyne,I leif to poetis to compyleIn staitlie verse and lofty style:It passis my ingyne.Bot as I mussit myne allane,I saw an river rinOut-ouir ane craggie rok of stane,Syne lichtit in ane lin[1367],With tumbling and rumblingAmang the rochis round,Dewalling[1368]and fallingInto that pit profound.To heir thae startling stremis cleirMe-thocht it musique to the eir,Quhat deskant did aboundWith trible sweit, an tenor iust,And ay the echo repercustHir diapason sound,Set with the Ci-sol-fa-uth cleife,[1369]Thairby to knaw the note;Thair soundit a michtie semibreifOut of the elphis throte[1370].Discreitlie, mair sweetlieNor craftie Amphion,Or Musis that vsis[1371]At fountaine Helicon.Quha wald haue tyrit to heir that tune,Quhilk birdis corroborate ay abune[1372],Throw schowting of the larkis?Sum flies sa high into the skies,Quhill Cupid walkinnes[1373]with the cryisOf Nature’s chappell clarkis,Quha, leving all the hevins aboueAlighted in the eird[1374].Lo, how that little God of LoueBefoir me thair apperid!So myld-lyke and chyld-lyke,With bow thrie quarteris scant,So moylie and coylie[1375],He lukit like ane sant.Ane cleinlie crisp[1376]hang ouir his eyisHis quauer by his naked thyisHang in ane siluer lace.Of gold, betwix his schoulders, grewTwa pretty wingis quhairwith he flew;On his left arme ane brace[1377].This god aff all his geir he schuikAnd laid it on the grund.I ran als busie for to luikQuhair ferleis[1378]micht be fund.Amasit I gasitTo see that geir sa gayPersawing my hawing[1379]He countit me his pray.His youth and stature made me stout;Of doubleness I had na doubt,Bot bourded[1380]with my boy.Quod I, “How call they thee, my chyld?”“Cupido, Sir,” quod he, and smyld:“Please you me to imploy;For I can serve you in your suite,If you please to impyre[1381],With wingis to flie, and schafts to schute,Or flamis to set on fyre.Mak choice then out of those then,Or of a thousand things;Bot craue them, and haue them.”With that I wowed[1382]his wings.“Quhat wald thou giue, my friend,” quod he,“To haf thae prettie wingis to flie,To sport thee for a quhyle?Or quhat, gif I suld len thee heirMy bow and all my shuting geir,Sum bodie to begyle?”“That geir,” quod I, “can not be bocht,Yet I wald haif it faine[1383].”“Quhat gif,” quod he, “it coist thee nochtBot randring it againe?”His wingis than he bringis than,And band them on my back:“Go flie now,” quod he now,“And so my leif I tak.”I sprang vp on Cupidoes wingis,Quha bow and quauir baith resingis[1384]To lend me for ane day.As Icarus with borrowit flichtI mountit hichar nor[1385]I micht;Ouir perrelous ane play.Than furth I drew that deadlie dairtQuhilk sumtyme schot his mother,Quhair-with I hurt my wanton heart,In hope to hurt ane-vther.It hurt me, it burt[1386]me,The ofter I it handill.Cum se now, in me now,The butter-flie and candill.As scho delytis into the low[1387],Sa was I browdin in[1388]my bow,Als ignorant as scho;And als scho flies quhill sche be fyrit,Sa, with the dart that I desyrit,My hand hes hurt me to.As fulisch Phaëton, be sute[1389],His fatheris cart obteind,I langt in Luiffis bow to shute,Bot weist not what it meind.Mair wilfull than skilfullTo flie I was so fond,Desyring, impyring,And sa was sene vpond[1390].To late I knaw, quha hewis to hie[1391],The spail[1392]sall fall into his eie;To late I went to scuillis.To late I heard the swallow preiche,[1393]To late Experience dois teiche—The skuill-maister of fuillis.To late to fynde the nest I seik,Quhen all the birdis are flowin;To late the stabill dore I steik[1394],Quhen all the steids are stowin[1395].To lait ay their stait ayAll fulische folke espye;Behynd so, they fynd soRemeid, and so do I.Gif I had rypelie bene aduysitI had not rashlie enterprysitTo soir with borrowit pennis,Nor yit had saied the archer craft,Nor schot myself with sik a schaftAs resoun quite miskennis[1396].Fra[1397]wilfulnes gaue me my woundI had na force to flie,Then came I granand[1398]to the ground:“Freind, welcome hame!” quod he.“Quhair flew ye, quhome slew ye,Or quha bringis hame the buiting[1399]?I sie now,” quod he now,“Ye haif bene at the schuting.”As skorne cummis commonlie with skaith[1400]Sa I behuifit to byde them baith:O quhat an stakkering stait[1401]!For vnder cure I gat sik chek[1402]Quhilk I micht nocht remuif nor nek[1403],Bot eyther stail or mait[1404].My agonie was sa extremeI swelt and soundt[1405]for feir;Bot, or I walkynnit of[1406]my dremeHe spulyied[1407]me of my geir.With flicht than on hicht thanSprang Cupid in the skyis,Foryetting and settingAt nocht my cairfull cryis.Sa lang with sicht I followit himQuhill baith my feiblit eyis grew dimWith staruing on the starnis[1408];Quhilk flew sa thick befoir my ein,Sum reid, sum yellow, blew, and grein,Sa trublit all my harnis[1409];Quhill euery-thing apperit twoTo my barbuilyiet[1410]braine,Bot lang micht I lye luiking soOr Cupid come againe;Quhais thundring, with wondringI hard vp throw the air;Throw cluddis so he thuddis soAnd flew I wist not quhair.Fra that I saw that god was gane,And I in langour left allane,And sair tormentit, to,Sum-tyme I sicht quhill[1411]I was sad,Sum-tyme I musit and maist gane mad,I wist not quhat to do.Sum-tyme I ravit, halfe in a rage,As ane into dispaire;To be opprest with sic ane page[1412]Lord! gif my heart was saire!Like Dido, CupidoI widill and [I] warye[1413],Quha reft me, and left meIn sik a feirie-farye[1414].Then felt I Curage and DesyreInflame my heart with vncouth[1415]fyre,To me befoir vnknawin;Bot now na blud in me remainesVnbrunt and boyld[1416]within my vaines,By luffis bellies blawin[1417].To quench it, or I was deuorit,With siches I went about;Bot ay the mair I schape to smor it[1418]The baulder it brak out:Ay preising but ceising[1419]Quhill it may breik the boundis.My hew so furth schew soThe dolour of my woundis.With deidlie visage, paill and wan,Mair like ane atomie[1420]nor man,I widderit[1421]cleine away.As wax befoir the fyre, I feltMy hart within my bosome meltAnd pece and pece decay.My vaines with brangling[1422]like to brek—My punsis lap[1423]with pith—Sa feruently did me infekThat I was vext thairwith.My hart ay did start ayThe fyrie flamis to flie,Ay houping, throu louping,To win[1424]to liberty.Bot O! alace! byde it behuissit[1425],Within my cairfull corpis incluissit[1426],In presoun of my breist;With sichis sa sowpit and ouirset[1427],Like to an fische fast in the net,In deid-thraw vndeceist[1428],Quha, thocht[1429]in vaine, dois striue for strenthFor to pull out hir heid,Quhilk profitis nathing at the lenthBot haistes hir to hir deid[1430].With wristing and thristing[1431]The faster still is scho;Thair I so did lye so,My death advancing to.The mair I wrestlit with the wyndThe faschter[1432]still myself I fynd;Na mirth my mynd micht mease[1433].Mair noy[1434], nor I, had neuer nane,I was sa alterit and ouirgane[1435]Throw drowth[1436]of my disease.Than weakly, as I micht, I rayis;My sicht grewe dim and dark;I stakkerit at the windilstrayis[1437],Na takin[1438]I was stark.Baith sichtles and michtles,I grew almaist at ainis[1439];In angwische I langwischeWith mony grievous grainis[1440].With sober pace I did approcheHard to the riuer and the rocheQuhairof I spak befoir;Quhais running sic a murmure maid,That to the sey it softlie slaid;The craig was high and schoir[1441].Than pleasur did me so prouokPerforce thair to repaire,Betuix the riuer and the rok,Quhair Hope grew with Dispaire.A trie than I sie thanOfCherriesin the braes.Belaw, to, I saw, to,Ane buss of bitterSlaes[1442].TheCherrieshang abune my heid,Like twinkland rubies round and reid,So hich vp in the hewch[1443],Quhais schaddowis in the riuer schew,Als graithlie[1444]glansing, as they grewe,On trimbling twistis tewch[1445],Quhilk bowed throu burding of thair birth[1446],Inclining downe thair toppis,Reflex of Phœbus of the firth[1447]Newe colourit all thair knoppis[1448],With dansing and glansingIn tirles dornik champ[1449],Ay streimand and gleimandThrow brichtnes of that lamp.With earnest eye quhil I espyeThe fruit betuixt me and the skye,Halfe-gaite[1450], almaist, to hevin,The craig sa cumbersume to clim,The trie sa hich of growth, and trimAs ony arrowe evin,I cald to mind how Daphne didWithin the laurell schrink,Quhen from Apollo scho hir hid.[1451]A thousand times I thinkThat trie then to me then,As he his laurell thocht;Aspyring but tyring[1452]To get that fruit I socht.To clime the craige it was na buit[1453]Lat be to presse[1454]to pull the fruitIn top of all the trie.I saw na way quhairby to cumBe ony craft to get it clum,Appeirandly to me.The craige was vgly, stay, and dreich[1455],The trie heich, lang, and smal[1456];I was affrayd to mount sa hichFor feir to get ane fall.Affrayit to say it[1457],I luikit vp on loft;Quhiles minting, quhiles stinting[1458],My purpose changit oft.Then Dreid, with Danger and Dispaire,Forbad my minting anie mairTo raxe aboue my reiche[1459].“Quhat, tusche!” quod Curage, “man, go to,He is bot daft that hes ado[1460],And spairis for euery speiche.For I haue oft hard wise men say,And we may see our-sellis,That fortune helps the hardie ay,And pultrones plaine repellis.Than feir not, nor heir notDreid, Danger, or Dispaire;To fazarts hard hazarts[1461]Is deid or[1462]they cum thair.“Quha speidis bot sic as heich aspyris?Quha triumphis nocht bot sic as tyrisTo win a nobill name?Of schrinking quhat bot schame succeidis?Than do as thou wald haif thy deidisIn register of fame.I put the cais, thou nocht preuaild,Sa thou with honour die,Thy life, bot not thy courage, faild,Sall poetis pen of thee.Thy name than from Fame thanSall neuir be cut aff:Thy graif ay sall haif ayThat honest epitaff.“Quhat can thou loose, quhen honour lyuis?Renowne thy vertew ay reuyuisGif valiauntlie thou end.”Quod Danger, “Hulie[1463], friend, tak heid!Vntymous spurring spillis the steid.Tak tent[1464]quhat ye pretend.Thocht Courage counsell thee to clim,Bewar thou kep na skaith[1465].Haif thou na help bot Hope and him,They may beguyle thé baith.Thy-sell now can tell nowThe counsell of thae clarkis,Quhairthrow yit, I trow yit,Thy breist dois beir the markis.“Brunt bairn with fyre the danger dreidis;Sa I beleif thy bosome bleidisSen last that fyre thou felt.Besydis this, seindell tymis thé seis[1466]That euer Curage keipis the keyisOf knawledge at his belt.Thocht he bid fordwart with the gunnis,Small powder he prouydis.Be nocht ane novice of the nunnisThat saw nocht baith the sydis.Fuil-haist[1467]ay almaist ayOuirsylis[1468]the sicht of sumQuha huikis not[1469], nor luikis notQuhat eftirward may cum.“Yit Wisdome wischis thé to weyThis figour of philosophey—A lessoun worth to leir[1470]—Quhilk is, in tyme for to tak tent,And not, when tyme is past, repent,And buy repentance deir.Is thair na honoure efter lyfeExcept them slay thy-sell?Quhairfoir hes Attropus[1471]that knyfe?I trow thou cannot tell,That, but it, wald cut itThat Clotho[1472]skairse hes spun,Distroying thy joyingBefoire it be begun.“All ouirs are repuit to be vyce[1473]—Ore hich, ore law, ore rasche, ore nyce,Ore heit, or yit ore cauld.Thou seemes vnconstant be thy sings[1474];Thy thocht is on ane thousand things;Thou wattis[1475]not quhat thou wald.Let Fame hir pittie on thé powreQuhan all thy banis ar brokin:YoneSlae, suppose[1476]you think it soure,May satisfie to slokkin[1477]Thy drouth[1478]now, O youth now,Quhilk drownis thee with desyre.Aswage than thy rage, man,Foull water quenches fyre.“Quhat fule art thou to die of thirst,And now may quench it, gif thou list,So easily, but paine!Maire honor is to vanquisch aneNor feicht with tensum[1479]and be tane,And outhir hurt or slane.The prattick[1480]is, to bring to passe,And not to enterprise;And als guid drinking out of glasAs gold, in ony wise.I leuir[1481]haue euerAne foule in hand, or tway,Nor seand ten fleandAbout me all the day.”

About ane bank, quhair birdis on bewis[1347]

Ten thusand tymis thair notis renewis

Ilke[1348]houre into the day,

The merle and maueis[1349]micht be sene,

The progne and the phelomene[1350],

Quhilk caussit me to stay.

I lay and leynit me to ane bus

To heir the birdis beir[1351];

Thair mirth was sa melodius

Throw nature of the yeir:

Sum singing, sum springing

With wingis into the sky;

So trimlie and nimlie

Thir birdis they flew me by.

I saw the hurcheon[1352]and the hair,Quha fed amangis the flowris fair,Wer happing to and fro.I saw the cunning[1353]and the cat,Quhais downis with the dew was wat,With mony beisties mo.The hart, the hynd, the dae, the rae,The fowmart[1354], and the foxeWar skowping[1355]all fra brae to brae,Amang the water broxe;Sum feiding, sum dreidingIn cais of suddain snairis:With skipping and trippingThay hantit[1356]all in pairis.

I saw the hurcheon[1352]and the hair,

Quha fed amangis the flowris fair,

Wer happing to and fro.

I saw the cunning[1353]and the cat,

Quhais downis with the dew was wat,

With mony beisties mo.

The hart, the hynd, the dae, the rae,

The fowmart[1354], and the foxe

War skowping[1355]all fra brae to brae,

Amang the water broxe;

Sum feiding, sum dreiding

In cais of suddain snairis:

With skipping and tripping

Thay hantit[1356]all in pairis.

The air was sa attemperate,But ony myst immaculate,Bot purefeit and cleir;The flowris fair wer flurischit,As Nature had them nurischitBaith delicate and deir[1357];And euery blome on branche and bewch[1358]So prettily wer spred,And hang their heidis out-ouir the hewch[1359]In Mayis colour cled;Sum knopping[1360], sum droppingOf balmie liquor sweit,Distelling and smellingThrow Phœbus hailsum heit.

The air was sa attemperate,

But ony myst immaculate,

Bot purefeit and cleir;

The flowris fair wer flurischit,

As Nature had them nurischit

Baith delicate and deir[1357];

And euery blome on branche and bewch[1358]

So prettily wer spred,

And hang their heidis out-ouir the hewch[1359]

In Mayis colour cled;

Sum knopping[1360], sum dropping

Of balmie liquor sweit,

Distelling and smelling

Throw Phœbus hailsum heit.

The cukkow and the cuschet[1361]cryde,The turtle, on the vther syde,Na plesure had to play;So schil[1362]in sorrow was her sangThat, throw hyr voice, the roches rang;For Eccho answerit ay,Lamenting sair Narcissus’ cace,Quha staruit[1363]at the well;Quha with the schaddow of his faceFor lufe did slay himsell.[1364]Quhylis weiping and creipingAbout the well he baid;Quhylis lying, quhylis crying,Bot it na answere maid.

The cukkow and the cuschet[1361]cryde,

The turtle, on the vther syde,

Na plesure had to play;

So schil[1362]in sorrow was her sang

That, throw hyr voice, the roches rang;

For Eccho answerit ay,

Lamenting sair Narcissus’ cace,

Quha staruit[1363]at the well;

Quha with the schaddow of his face

For lufe did slay himsell.[1364]

Quhylis weiping and creiping

About the well he baid;

Quhylis lying, quhylis crying,

Bot it na answere maid.

The dew as diamondis did hingVpon the tender twistis[1365]and ying,Owir-twinkling all the treis;And ay quhair flowris flourischit faireThair suddainly I saw repaireIn swarmes the sounding beis.Sum sweitly hes the hony socht,Quhil[1366]they war cloggit soir:Sum willingly the waxe hes wrocht,To heip it vp in stoir.So heiping with keiping,Into thair hyuis they hyde it,Precyselie and wyselieFor winter they prouyde it.

The dew as diamondis did hing

Vpon the tender twistis[1365]and ying,

Owir-twinkling all the treis;

And ay quhair flowris flourischit faire

Thair suddainly I saw repaire

In swarmes the sounding beis.

Sum sweitly hes the hony socht,

Quhil[1366]they war cloggit soir:

Sum willingly the waxe hes wrocht,

To heip it vp in stoir.

So heiping with keiping,

Into thair hyuis they hyde it,

Precyselie and wyselie

For winter they prouyde it.

To pen the pleasures of that park,How euery blossome, branche, and bark,Agaynst the sun did schyne,I leif to poetis to compyleIn staitlie verse and lofty style:It passis my ingyne.Bot as I mussit myne allane,I saw an river rinOut-ouir ane craggie rok of stane,Syne lichtit in ane lin[1367],With tumbling and rumblingAmang the rochis round,Dewalling[1368]and fallingInto that pit profound.

To pen the pleasures of that park,

How euery blossome, branche, and bark,

Agaynst the sun did schyne,

I leif to poetis to compyle

In staitlie verse and lofty style:

It passis my ingyne.

Bot as I mussit myne allane,

I saw an river rin

Out-ouir ane craggie rok of stane,

Syne lichtit in ane lin[1367],

With tumbling and rumbling

Amang the rochis round,

Dewalling[1368]and falling

Into that pit profound.

To heir thae startling stremis cleirMe-thocht it musique to the eir,Quhat deskant did aboundWith trible sweit, an tenor iust,And ay the echo repercustHir diapason sound,Set with the Ci-sol-fa-uth cleife,[1369]Thairby to knaw the note;Thair soundit a michtie semibreifOut of the elphis throte[1370].Discreitlie, mair sweetlieNor craftie Amphion,Or Musis that vsis[1371]At fountaine Helicon.

To heir thae startling stremis cleir

Me-thocht it musique to the eir,

Quhat deskant did abound

With trible sweit, an tenor iust,

And ay the echo repercust

Hir diapason sound,

Set with the Ci-sol-fa-uth cleife,[1369]

Thairby to knaw the note;

Thair soundit a michtie semibreif

Out of the elphis throte[1370].

Discreitlie, mair sweetlie

Nor craftie Amphion,

Or Musis that vsis[1371]

At fountaine Helicon.

Quha wald haue tyrit to heir that tune,Quhilk birdis corroborate ay abune[1372],Throw schowting of the larkis?Sum flies sa high into the skies,Quhill Cupid walkinnes[1373]with the cryisOf Nature’s chappell clarkis,Quha, leving all the hevins aboueAlighted in the eird[1374].Lo, how that little God of LoueBefoir me thair apperid!So myld-lyke and chyld-lyke,With bow thrie quarteris scant,So moylie and coylie[1375],He lukit like ane sant.

Quha wald haue tyrit to heir that tune,

Quhilk birdis corroborate ay abune[1372],

Throw schowting of the larkis?

Sum flies sa high into the skies,

Quhill Cupid walkinnes[1373]with the cryis

Of Nature’s chappell clarkis,

Quha, leving all the hevins aboue

Alighted in the eird[1374].

Lo, how that little God of Loue

Befoir me thair apperid!

So myld-lyke and chyld-lyke,

With bow thrie quarteris scant,

So moylie and coylie[1375],

He lukit like ane sant.

Ane cleinlie crisp[1376]hang ouir his eyisHis quauer by his naked thyisHang in ane siluer lace.Of gold, betwix his schoulders, grewTwa pretty wingis quhairwith he flew;On his left arme ane brace[1377].This god aff all his geir he schuikAnd laid it on the grund.I ran als busie for to luikQuhair ferleis[1378]micht be fund.Amasit I gasitTo see that geir sa gayPersawing my hawing[1379]He countit me his pray.

Ane cleinlie crisp[1376]hang ouir his eyis

His quauer by his naked thyis

Hang in ane siluer lace.

Of gold, betwix his schoulders, grew

Twa pretty wingis quhairwith he flew;

On his left arme ane brace[1377].

This god aff all his geir he schuik

And laid it on the grund.

I ran als busie for to luik

Quhair ferleis[1378]micht be fund.

Amasit I gasit

To see that geir sa gay

Persawing my hawing[1379]

He countit me his pray.

His youth and stature made me stout;Of doubleness I had na doubt,Bot bourded[1380]with my boy.Quod I, “How call they thee, my chyld?”“Cupido, Sir,” quod he, and smyld:“Please you me to imploy;For I can serve you in your suite,If you please to impyre[1381],With wingis to flie, and schafts to schute,Or flamis to set on fyre.Mak choice then out of those then,Or of a thousand things;Bot craue them, and haue them.”With that I wowed[1382]his wings.

His youth and stature made me stout;

Of doubleness I had na doubt,

Bot bourded[1380]with my boy.

Quod I, “How call they thee, my chyld?”

“Cupido, Sir,” quod he, and smyld:

“Please you me to imploy;

For I can serve you in your suite,

If you please to impyre[1381],

With wingis to flie, and schafts to schute,

Or flamis to set on fyre.

Mak choice then out of those then,

Or of a thousand things;

Bot craue them, and haue them.”

With that I wowed[1382]his wings.

“Quhat wald thou giue, my friend,” quod he,“To haf thae prettie wingis to flie,To sport thee for a quhyle?Or quhat, gif I suld len thee heirMy bow and all my shuting geir,Sum bodie to begyle?”“That geir,” quod I, “can not be bocht,Yet I wald haif it faine[1383].”“Quhat gif,” quod he, “it coist thee nochtBot randring it againe?”His wingis than he bringis than,And band them on my back:“Go flie now,” quod he now,“And so my leif I tak.”

“Quhat wald thou giue, my friend,” quod he,

“To haf thae prettie wingis to flie,

To sport thee for a quhyle?

Or quhat, gif I suld len thee heir

My bow and all my shuting geir,

Sum bodie to begyle?”

“That geir,” quod I, “can not be bocht,

Yet I wald haif it faine[1383].”

“Quhat gif,” quod he, “it coist thee nocht

Bot randring it againe?”

His wingis than he bringis than,

And band them on my back:

“Go flie now,” quod he now,

“And so my leif I tak.”

I sprang vp on Cupidoes wingis,Quha bow and quauir baith resingis[1384]To lend me for ane day.As Icarus with borrowit flichtI mountit hichar nor[1385]I micht;Ouir perrelous ane play.Than furth I drew that deadlie dairtQuhilk sumtyme schot his mother,Quhair-with I hurt my wanton heart,In hope to hurt ane-vther.It hurt me, it burt[1386]me,The ofter I it handill.Cum se now, in me now,The butter-flie and candill.

I sprang vp on Cupidoes wingis,

Quha bow and quauir baith resingis[1384]

To lend me for ane day.

As Icarus with borrowit flicht

I mountit hichar nor[1385]I micht;

Ouir perrelous ane play.

Than furth I drew that deadlie dairt

Quhilk sumtyme schot his mother,

Quhair-with I hurt my wanton heart,

In hope to hurt ane-vther.

It hurt me, it burt[1386]me,

The ofter I it handill.

Cum se now, in me now,

The butter-flie and candill.

As scho delytis into the low[1387],Sa was I browdin in[1388]my bow,Als ignorant as scho;And als scho flies quhill sche be fyrit,Sa, with the dart that I desyrit,My hand hes hurt me to.As fulisch Phaëton, be sute[1389],His fatheris cart obteind,I langt in Luiffis bow to shute,Bot weist not what it meind.Mair wilfull than skilfullTo flie I was so fond,Desyring, impyring,And sa was sene vpond[1390].

As scho delytis into the low[1387],

Sa was I browdin in[1388]my bow,

Als ignorant as scho;

And als scho flies quhill sche be fyrit,

Sa, with the dart that I desyrit,

My hand hes hurt me to.

As fulisch Phaëton, be sute[1389],

His fatheris cart obteind,

I langt in Luiffis bow to shute,

Bot weist not what it meind.

Mair wilfull than skilfull

To flie I was so fond,

Desyring, impyring,

And sa was sene vpond[1390].

To late I knaw, quha hewis to hie[1391],The spail[1392]sall fall into his eie;To late I went to scuillis.To late I heard the swallow preiche,[1393]To late Experience dois teiche—The skuill-maister of fuillis.To late to fynde the nest I seik,Quhen all the birdis are flowin;To late the stabill dore I steik[1394],Quhen all the steids are stowin[1395].To lait ay their stait ayAll fulische folke espye;Behynd so, they fynd soRemeid, and so do I.

To late I knaw, quha hewis to hie[1391],

The spail[1392]sall fall into his eie;

To late I went to scuillis.

To late I heard the swallow preiche,[1393]

To late Experience dois teiche—

The skuill-maister of fuillis.

To late to fynde the nest I seik,

Quhen all the birdis are flowin;

To late the stabill dore I steik[1394],

Quhen all the steids are stowin[1395].

To lait ay their stait ay

All fulische folke espye;

Behynd so, they fynd so

Remeid, and so do I.

Gif I had rypelie bene aduysitI had not rashlie enterprysitTo soir with borrowit pennis,Nor yit had saied the archer craft,Nor schot myself with sik a schaftAs resoun quite miskennis[1396].Fra[1397]wilfulnes gaue me my woundI had na force to flie,Then came I granand[1398]to the ground:“Freind, welcome hame!” quod he.“Quhair flew ye, quhome slew ye,Or quha bringis hame the buiting[1399]?I sie now,” quod he now,“Ye haif bene at the schuting.”

Gif I had rypelie bene aduysit

I had not rashlie enterprysit

To soir with borrowit pennis,

Nor yit had saied the archer craft,

Nor schot myself with sik a schaft

As resoun quite miskennis[1396].

Fra[1397]wilfulnes gaue me my wound

I had na force to flie,

Then came I granand[1398]to the ground:

“Freind, welcome hame!” quod he.

“Quhair flew ye, quhome slew ye,

Or quha bringis hame the buiting[1399]?

I sie now,” quod he now,

“Ye haif bene at the schuting.”

As skorne cummis commonlie with skaith[1400]Sa I behuifit to byde them baith:O quhat an stakkering stait[1401]!For vnder cure I gat sik chek[1402]Quhilk I micht nocht remuif nor nek[1403],Bot eyther stail or mait[1404].My agonie was sa extremeI swelt and soundt[1405]for feir;Bot, or I walkynnit of[1406]my dremeHe spulyied[1407]me of my geir.With flicht than on hicht thanSprang Cupid in the skyis,Foryetting and settingAt nocht my cairfull cryis.

As skorne cummis commonlie with skaith[1400]

Sa I behuifit to byde them baith:

O quhat an stakkering stait[1401]!

For vnder cure I gat sik chek[1402]

Quhilk I micht nocht remuif nor nek[1403],

Bot eyther stail or mait[1404].

My agonie was sa extreme

I swelt and soundt[1405]for feir;

Bot, or I walkynnit of[1406]my dreme

He spulyied[1407]me of my geir.

With flicht than on hicht than

Sprang Cupid in the skyis,

Foryetting and setting

At nocht my cairfull cryis.

Sa lang with sicht I followit himQuhill baith my feiblit eyis grew dimWith staruing on the starnis[1408];Quhilk flew sa thick befoir my ein,Sum reid, sum yellow, blew, and grein,Sa trublit all my harnis[1409];Quhill euery-thing apperit twoTo my barbuilyiet[1410]braine,Bot lang micht I lye luiking soOr Cupid come againe;Quhais thundring, with wondringI hard vp throw the air;Throw cluddis so he thuddis soAnd flew I wist not quhair.

Sa lang with sicht I followit him

Quhill baith my feiblit eyis grew dim

With staruing on the starnis[1408];

Quhilk flew sa thick befoir my ein,

Sum reid, sum yellow, blew, and grein,

Sa trublit all my harnis[1409];

Quhill euery-thing apperit two

To my barbuilyiet[1410]braine,

Bot lang micht I lye luiking so

Or Cupid come againe;

Quhais thundring, with wondring

I hard vp throw the air;

Throw cluddis so he thuddis so

And flew I wist not quhair.

Fra that I saw that god was gane,And I in langour left allane,And sair tormentit, to,Sum-tyme I sicht quhill[1411]I was sad,Sum-tyme I musit and maist gane mad,I wist not quhat to do.Sum-tyme I ravit, halfe in a rage,As ane into dispaire;To be opprest with sic ane page[1412]Lord! gif my heart was saire!Like Dido, CupidoI widill and [I] warye[1413],Quha reft me, and left meIn sik a feirie-farye[1414].

Fra that I saw that god was gane,

And I in langour left allane,

And sair tormentit, to,

Sum-tyme I sicht quhill[1411]I was sad,

Sum-tyme I musit and maist gane mad,

I wist not quhat to do.

Sum-tyme I ravit, halfe in a rage,

As ane into dispaire;

To be opprest with sic ane page[1412]

Lord! gif my heart was saire!

Like Dido, Cupido

I widill and [I] warye[1413],

Quha reft me, and left me

In sik a feirie-farye[1414].

Then felt I Curage and DesyreInflame my heart with vncouth[1415]fyre,To me befoir vnknawin;Bot now na blud in me remainesVnbrunt and boyld[1416]within my vaines,By luffis bellies blawin[1417].To quench it, or I was deuorit,With siches I went about;Bot ay the mair I schape to smor it[1418]The baulder it brak out:Ay preising but ceising[1419]Quhill it may breik the boundis.My hew so furth schew soThe dolour of my woundis.

Then felt I Curage and Desyre

Inflame my heart with vncouth[1415]fyre,

To me befoir vnknawin;

Bot now na blud in me remaines

Vnbrunt and boyld[1416]within my vaines,

By luffis bellies blawin[1417].

To quench it, or I was deuorit,

With siches I went about;

Bot ay the mair I schape to smor it[1418]

The baulder it brak out:

Ay preising but ceising[1419]

Quhill it may breik the boundis.

My hew so furth schew so

The dolour of my woundis.

With deidlie visage, paill and wan,Mair like ane atomie[1420]nor man,I widderit[1421]cleine away.As wax befoir the fyre, I feltMy hart within my bosome meltAnd pece and pece decay.My vaines with brangling[1422]like to brek—My punsis lap[1423]with pith—Sa feruently did me infekThat I was vext thairwith.My hart ay did start ayThe fyrie flamis to flie,Ay houping, throu louping,To win[1424]to liberty.

With deidlie visage, paill and wan,

Mair like ane atomie[1420]nor man,

I widderit[1421]cleine away.

As wax befoir the fyre, I felt

My hart within my bosome melt

And pece and pece decay.

My vaines with brangling[1422]like to brek—

My punsis lap[1423]with pith—

Sa feruently did me infek

That I was vext thairwith.

My hart ay did start ay

The fyrie flamis to flie,

Ay houping, throu louping,

To win[1424]to liberty.

Bot O! alace! byde it behuissit[1425],Within my cairfull corpis incluissit[1426],In presoun of my breist;With sichis sa sowpit and ouirset[1427],Like to an fische fast in the net,In deid-thraw vndeceist[1428],Quha, thocht[1429]in vaine, dois striue for strenthFor to pull out hir heid,Quhilk profitis nathing at the lenthBot haistes hir to hir deid[1430].With wristing and thristing[1431]The faster still is scho;Thair I so did lye so,My death advancing to.

Bot O! alace! byde it behuissit[1425],

Within my cairfull corpis incluissit[1426],

In presoun of my breist;

With sichis sa sowpit and ouirset[1427],

Like to an fische fast in the net,

In deid-thraw vndeceist[1428],

Quha, thocht[1429]in vaine, dois striue for strenth

For to pull out hir heid,

Quhilk profitis nathing at the lenth

Bot haistes hir to hir deid[1430].

With wristing and thristing[1431]

The faster still is scho;

Thair I so did lye so,

My death advancing to.

The mair I wrestlit with the wyndThe faschter[1432]still myself I fynd;Na mirth my mynd micht mease[1433].Mair noy[1434], nor I, had neuer nane,I was sa alterit and ouirgane[1435]Throw drowth[1436]of my disease.Than weakly, as I micht, I rayis;My sicht grewe dim and dark;I stakkerit at the windilstrayis[1437],Na takin[1438]I was stark.Baith sichtles and michtles,I grew almaist at ainis[1439];In angwische I langwischeWith mony grievous grainis[1440].

The mair I wrestlit with the wynd

The faschter[1432]still myself I fynd;

Na mirth my mynd micht mease[1433].

Mair noy[1434], nor I, had neuer nane,

I was sa alterit and ouirgane[1435]

Throw drowth[1436]of my disease.

Than weakly, as I micht, I rayis;

My sicht grewe dim and dark;

I stakkerit at the windilstrayis[1437],

Na takin[1438]I was stark.

Baith sichtles and michtles,

I grew almaist at ainis[1439];

In angwische I langwische

With mony grievous grainis[1440].

With sober pace I did approcheHard to the riuer and the rocheQuhairof I spak befoir;Quhais running sic a murmure maid,That to the sey it softlie slaid;The craig was high and schoir[1441].Than pleasur did me so prouokPerforce thair to repaire,Betuix the riuer and the rok,Quhair Hope grew with Dispaire.A trie than I sie thanOfCherriesin the braes.Belaw, to, I saw, to,Ane buss of bitterSlaes[1442].

With sober pace I did approche

Hard to the riuer and the roche

Quhairof I spak befoir;

Quhais running sic a murmure maid,

That to the sey it softlie slaid;

The craig was high and schoir[1441].

Than pleasur did me so prouok

Perforce thair to repaire,

Betuix the riuer and the rok,

Quhair Hope grew with Dispaire.

A trie than I sie than

OfCherriesin the braes.

Belaw, to, I saw, to,

Ane buss of bitterSlaes[1442].

TheCherrieshang abune my heid,Like twinkland rubies round and reid,So hich vp in the hewch[1443],Quhais schaddowis in the riuer schew,Als graithlie[1444]glansing, as they grewe,On trimbling twistis tewch[1445],Quhilk bowed throu burding of thair birth[1446],Inclining downe thair toppis,Reflex of Phœbus of the firth[1447]Newe colourit all thair knoppis[1448],With dansing and glansingIn tirles dornik champ[1449],Ay streimand and gleimandThrow brichtnes of that lamp.

TheCherrieshang abune my heid,

Like twinkland rubies round and reid,

So hich vp in the hewch[1443],

Quhais schaddowis in the riuer schew,

Als graithlie[1444]glansing, as they grewe,

On trimbling twistis tewch[1445],

Quhilk bowed throu burding of thair birth[1446],

Inclining downe thair toppis,

Reflex of Phœbus of the firth[1447]

Newe colourit all thair knoppis[1448],

With dansing and glansing

In tirles dornik champ[1449],

Ay streimand and gleimand

Throw brichtnes of that lamp.

With earnest eye quhil I espyeThe fruit betuixt me and the skye,Halfe-gaite[1450], almaist, to hevin,The craig sa cumbersume to clim,The trie sa hich of growth, and trimAs ony arrowe evin,I cald to mind how Daphne didWithin the laurell schrink,Quhen from Apollo scho hir hid.[1451]A thousand times I thinkThat trie then to me then,As he his laurell thocht;Aspyring but tyring[1452]To get that fruit I socht.

With earnest eye quhil I espye

The fruit betuixt me and the skye,

Halfe-gaite[1450], almaist, to hevin,

The craig sa cumbersume to clim,

The trie sa hich of growth, and trim

As ony arrowe evin,

I cald to mind how Daphne did

Within the laurell schrink,

Quhen from Apollo scho hir hid.[1451]

A thousand times I think

That trie then to me then,

As he his laurell thocht;

Aspyring but tyring[1452]

To get that fruit I socht.

To clime the craige it was na buit[1453]Lat be to presse[1454]to pull the fruitIn top of all the trie.I saw na way quhairby to cumBe ony craft to get it clum,Appeirandly to me.The craige was vgly, stay, and dreich[1455],The trie heich, lang, and smal[1456];I was affrayd to mount sa hichFor feir to get ane fall.Affrayit to say it[1457],I luikit vp on loft;Quhiles minting, quhiles stinting[1458],My purpose changit oft.

To clime the craige it was na buit[1453]

Lat be to presse[1454]to pull the fruit

In top of all the trie.

I saw na way quhairby to cum

Be ony craft to get it clum,

Appeirandly to me.

The craige was vgly, stay, and dreich[1455],

The trie heich, lang, and smal[1456];

I was affrayd to mount sa hich

For feir to get ane fall.

Affrayit to say it[1457],

I luikit vp on loft;

Quhiles minting, quhiles stinting[1458],

My purpose changit oft.

Then Dreid, with Danger and Dispaire,Forbad my minting anie mairTo raxe aboue my reiche[1459].“Quhat, tusche!” quod Curage, “man, go to,He is bot daft that hes ado[1460],And spairis for euery speiche.For I haue oft hard wise men say,And we may see our-sellis,That fortune helps the hardie ay,And pultrones plaine repellis.Than feir not, nor heir notDreid, Danger, or Dispaire;To fazarts hard hazarts[1461]Is deid or[1462]they cum thair.

Then Dreid, with Danger and Dispaire,

Forbad my minting anie mair

To raxe aboue my reiche[1459].

“Quhat, tusche!” quod Curage, “man, go to,

He is bot daft that hes ado[1460],

And spairis for euery speiche.

For I haue oft hard wise men say,

And we may see our-sellis,

That fortune helps the hardie ay,

And pultrones plaine repellis.

Than feir not, nor heir not

Dreid, Danger, or Dispaire;

To fazarts hard hazarts[1461]

Is deid or[1462]they cum thair.

“Quha speidis bot sic as heich aspyris?Quha triumphis nocht bot sic as tyrisTo win a nobill name?Of schrinking quhat bot schame succeidis?Than do as thou wald haif thy deidisIn register of fame.I put the cais, thou nocht preuaild,Sa thou with honour die,Thy life, bot not thy courage, faild,Sall poetis pen of thee.Thy name than from Fame thanSall neuir be cut aff:Thy graif ay sall haif ayThat honest epitaff.

“Quha speidis bot sic as heich aspyris?

Quha triumphis nocht bot sic as tyris

To win a nobill name?

Of schrinking quhat bot schame succeidis?

Than do as thou wald haif thy deidis

In register of fame.

I put the cais, thou nocht preuaild,

Sa thou with honour die,

Thy life, bot not thy courage, faild,

Sall poetis pen of thee.

Thy name than from Fame than

Sall neuir be cut aff:

Thy graif ay sall haif ay

That honest epitaff.

“Quhat can thou loose, quhen honour lyuis?Renowne thy vertew ay reuyuisGif valiauntlie thou end.”Quod Danger, “Hulie[1463], friend, tak heid!Vntymous spurring spillis the steid.Tak tent[1464]quhat ye pretend.Thocht Courage counsell thee to clim,Bewar thou kep na skaith[1465].Haif thou na help bot Hope and him,They may beguyle thé baith.Thy-sell now can tell nowThe counsell of thae clarkis,Quhairthrow yit, I trow yit,Thy breist dois beir the markis.

“Quhat can thou loose, quhen honour lyuis?

Renowne thy vertew ay reuyuis

Gif valiauntlie thou end.”

Quod Danger, “Hulie[1463], friend, tak heid!

Vntymous spurring spillis the steid.

Tak tent[1464]quhat ye pretend.

Thocht Courage counsell thee to clim,

Bewar thou kep na skaith[1465].

Haif thou na help bot Hope and him,

They may beguyle thé baith.

Thy-sell now can tell now

The counsell of thae clarkis,

Quhairthrow yit, I trow yit,

Thy breist dois beir the markis.

“Brunt bairn with fyre the danger dreidis;Sa I beleif thy bosome bleidisSen last that fyre thou felt.Besydis this, seindell tymis thé seis[1466]That euer Curage keipis the keyisOf knawledge at his belt.Thocht he bid fordwart with the gunnis,Small powder he prouydis.Be nocht ane novice of the nunnisThat saw nocht baith the sydis.Fuil-haist[1467]ay almaist ayOuirsylis[1468]the sicht of sumQuha huikis not[1469], nor luikis notQuhat eftirward may cum.

“Brunt bairn with fyre the danger dreidis;

Sa I beleif thy bosome bleidis

Sen last that fyre thou felt.

Besydis this, seindell tymis thé seis[1466]

That euer Curage keipis the keyis

Of knawledge at his belt.

Thocht he bid fordwart with the gunnis,

Small powder he prouydis.

Be nocht ane novice of the nunnis

That saw nocht baith the sydis.

Fuil-haist[1467]ay almaist ay

Ouirsylis[1468]the sicht of sum

Quha huikis not[1469], nor luikis not

Quhat eftirward may cum.

“Yit Wisdome wischis thé to weyThis figour of philosophey—A lessoun worth to leir[1470]—Quhilk is, in tyme for to tak tent,And not, when tyme is past, repent,And buy repentance deir.Is thair na honoure efter lyfeExcept them slay thy-sell?Quhairfoir hes Attropus[1471]that knyfe?I trow thou cannot tell,That, but it, wald cut itThat Clotho[1472]skairse hes spun,Distroying thy joyingBefoire it be begun.

“Yit Wisdome wischis thé to wey

This figour of philosophey—

A lessoun worth to leir[1470]—

Quhilk is, in tyme for to tak tent,

And not, when tyme is past, repent,

And buy repentance deir.

Is thair na honoure efter lyfe

Except them slay thy-sell?

Quhairfoir hes Attropus[1471]that knyfe?

I trow thou cannot tell,

That, but it, wald cut it

That Clotho[1472]skairse hes spun,

Distroying thy joying

Befoire it be begun.

“All ouirs are repuit to be vyce[1473]—Ore hich, ore law, ore rasche, ore nyce,Ore heit, or yit ore cauld.Thou seemes vnconstant be thy sings[1474];Thy thocht is on ane thousand things;Thou wattis[1475]not quhat thou wald.Let Fame hir pittie on thé powreQuhan all thy banis ar brokin:YoneSlae, suppose[1476]you think it soure,May satisfie to slokkin[1477]Thy drouth[1478]now, O youth now,Quhilk drownis thee with desyre.Aswage than thy rage, man,Foull water quenches fyre.

“All ouirs are repuit to be vyce[1473]—

Ore hich, ore law, ore rasche, ore nyce,

Ore heit, or yit ore cauld.

Thou seemes vnconstant be thy sings[1474];

Thy thocht is on ane thousand things;

Thou wattis[1475]not quhat thou wald.

Let Fame hir pittie on thé powre

Quhan all thy banis ar brokin:

YoneSlae, suppose[1476]you think it soure,

May satisfie to slokkin[1477]

Thy drouth[1478]now, O youth now,

Quhilk drownis thee with desyre.

Aswage than thy rage, man,

Foull water quenches fyre.

“Quhat fule art thou to die of thirst,And now may quench it, gif thou list,So easily, but paine!Maire honor is to vanquisch aneNor feicht with tensum[1479]and be tane,And outhir hurt or slane.The prattick[1480]is, to bring to passe,And not to enterprise;And als guid drinking out of glasAs gold, in ony wise.I leuir[1481]haue euerAne foule in hand, or tway,Nor seand ten fleandAbout me all the day.”

“Quhat fule art thou to die of thirst,

And now may quench it, gif thou list,

So easily, but paine!

Maire honor is to vanquisch ane

Nor feicht with tensum[1479]and be tane,

And outhir hurt or slane.

The prattick[1480]is, to bring to passe,

And not to enterprise;

And als guid drinking out of glas

As gold, in ony wise.

I leuir[1481]haue euer

Ane foule in hand, or tway,

Nor seand ten fleand

About me all the day.”

Back to Index Next