Part 14

Thair wes rycht nocht[1277] bot haif and ga; With lawchter lowd thay lewche[1278] Quhen thay saw Sym sic curage ta[1279], And Will mak it sa twche[1280]. Sym lap on horsbak lyk a ra[1281], And ran him till a huche[1282], Sayis “William, cum ryd doun this bra[1283], Thocht ye suld brek ane bwche[1284], Fo lufe!” Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Sone doun the bra Sym braid[1285] lyk thunder, And bad Will fallow fast. To grund for fersness he did funder Be he midhill had past. William saw Sym in sic a blunder, To ga he wes agast; For he affeird[1286] it wes na winder His cursour suld him cast And hurt him, Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Than all the yunkerris bad Will yeild Or doun the glen to gang[1287]. Sum cryd the koward suld be keild; Sum doun the hewche he thrang[1288]. Sum ruscht, sum rummyld[1289], sum reild[1290]; Sum be the bewche[1291] he hang. Thair avairis[1292] fyld vp all the feild, Thay wer so fow and pang[1293] With drafe[1294], Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Than gelly[1295] Johine come in a jak[1296] To feild quhair he wes feidit[1297], Abone[1298] his brand ane bucklar blak, Baill fell the bern that bedit[1299]. He slippit swiftly to the slak[1300], And rudly doun he raid it. Befoir his curpall[1301] wes a crak Culd na man tell quha maid it, For lawchter, Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Be than the bowgill gan to blaw; For nycht had thame ourtane. “Allaiss!” said Sym, “for falt of law, That bargan get I nane.” Thuss hame with mony crak and flaw[1302] Thay passid every ane; Syne pairtit at the Potter raw, And sindry gaitis[1303] ar gane, To rest thame, Within the toun that nicht.

L’ENVOY.

This Will wes he begyld the may, And did hir marriage spill. He promeist hir to lat him play, Hir purposs to fulfill. Fra[1304] scho fell fow[1305] he fled away, And come na mair hir till: Quhairfoir he tynt[1306] the feild that day, And tuk him to ane mill, To hyd him, As coward fals of fey[1307].

[1218] a lady comely and neat.

[1219] stout fellows.

[1220] beat.

[1221] The Drum was a house belonging to Lord Somerville, situated between Dalkeith and Edinburgh.

[1222] _douze pairs_, the twelve peers of Charlemagne.

[1223] wars.

[1224] stir, move.

[1225] pricking, spurring.

[1226] briers.

[1227] hot.

[1228] known.

[1229] was stronger of body.

[1230] promised.

[1231] If.

[1232] youngsters. (Perhaps Dutch _jonker_, young nobleman.)

[1233] sprightly.

[1234] foam.

[1235] cornets.

[1236] course.

[1237] lost or won.

[1238] fashion.

[1239] pikes.

[1240] hurt.

[1241] too sluggishly.

[1242] as active as a fawn.

[1243] stolen.

[1244] death.

[1245] pledged to the peacock.

[1246] feud.

[1247] sun and moon.

[1248] ranged.

[1249] breakfast. O. Fr. _desjune_.

[1250] ere noon.

[1251] prepared.

[1252] pained, punished.

[1253] oaths.

[1254] by the time that.

[1255] Anger-mad, furious.

[1256] from his companion to fetch.

[1257] neither lad nor knave.

[1258] a baked loach.

[1259] fullness, drunkenness.

[1260] astir.

[1261] in company.

[1262] from having combat could not desist.

[1263] incited Will to war.

[1264] dreaded.

[1265] buying hides.

[1266] wether.

[1267] the groom, the gallant.

[1268] to live in peace.

[1269] joint.

[1270] by three such.

[1271] flight.

[1272] jibe.

[1273] over meek.

[1274] four together.

[1275] distaff.

[1276] to make your rump smoke.

[1277] nothing at all.

[1278] laughed.

[1279] take.

[1280] do it so reluctantly.

[1281] roe.

[1282] steep bank.

[1283] declivity.

[1284] limb.

[1285] rushed.

[1286] feared.

[1287] go.

[1288] thrust.

[1289] rumbled.

[1290] rolled.

[1291] limb, bough.

[1292] belongings.

[1293] full and crammed.

[1294] malt liquor, _lit._ grains.

[1295] worthy.

[1296] jacket of mail.

[1297] held at feud.

[1298] Above.

[1299] Woe befell the man that awaited it.

[1300] gap, opening between hills.

[1301] crupper.

[1302] with many a boast and fib.

[1303] ways.

[1304] From the time when.

[1305] full.

[1306] lost.

[1307] faith.

HENCE, HAIRT.

Hence, hairt, with hir that most depairte, And hald thé with thy souerane; For I had lever want ane harte Nor haif the hairt that dois me pane. Thairfoir go, with thy lufe remane, And lat me leif thus vnmolest; And se that thou cum nocht agane, Bot byd with hir thow luvis best.

Sen scho that I haif scheruit lang[1308] Is to depairt so suddanly, Address[1309] thé now, for thow sall gang And beir thy lady cumpany. Fra scho be gon, hairtles am I; For quhy? thow art with hir possest; Thairfoir, my hairt, go hence in hy[1310], And byd with hir thow luvis best.

Thocht this belappit[1311] body heir Be bound to scheruitude and thrall, My fathfull hairt is fre inteir, And mynd to serf my lady at all[1312]. Wald God that I wer perigall[1313], Vnder that redolent ross to rest; Yit at the leist, my hairt, thow sall Abyd with hir thow lufis best.

Sen in your garth[1314] the lilly quhyte May nocht remane amang the laif[1315], Adew the flour of haill[1316] delyte, Adew the succour that ma me saif! Adew the fragrant balmé suaif[1317], And lamp of ladeis lustiest! My faythfull hairt scho sall it haif, To byd with hir it luvis best.

Deploir, ye ladeis cleir of hew, Hir abscence, sen scho most depairte; And specialy ye luvaris trew That woundit bene with luvis darte. For sum of yow sall want ane parte Als weill as I; thairfoir at last Do go with myn, with mynd inwart, And byd with hir thow luvis best.

[1308] served long.

[1309] Prepare.

[1310] haste.

[1311] beleaguered.

[1312] wholly.

[1313] per-equal, _i.e._ quite worthy.

[1314] garden.

[1315] rest.

[1316] whole.

[1317] kiss.

OPPRESSIT HAIRT INDURE.

Oppressit hairt indure In dolour and distress, Wappit without recure[1318] In wo remidiless. Sen scho is merciless, And caussis all thy smert, Quhilk suld thy dolour dress[1319], Indure, oppressit hairt.

Perforss tak paciens, And dre[1320] thy destany. To lufe but recompens Is grit perplexitie. Of thyne aduersitie Wyt[1321] thy-self and no mo, For quhen that thow wes fre Thow wald nocht hald thé so.

Thow langit ay to prufe The strenth of luvis lair[1322], And quhat kin[1323] thing wes lufe, Quhilk now settis[1324] thé so sair. Off all thy wo and cair It mendis thé nocht to mene[1325]: Howbeid thow suld forfair[1326], Thy-self the causs hes bene.

Quhen thow wes weill at eiss, And subiect to no wicht, Thow hir for lufe did cheiss[1327] Quhilk settis thy lufe at licht; And thocht thow knew hir slicht[1328] Yit wald thow [nocht] refrane, Thairfoir it is bot rycht That thow indure the pane.

Bot yit my corpss, allace, Is wrangusly opprest Be thé in-to this cace, And brocht to grit wanrest[1329]. Quhy suld it so be drest[1330] Be thé, and daly pynd[1331], Quhilk still it ay detest? Thy wantoun folich mynd.

The blenkyne[1332] of ane e Ay gart thé goif and glaik[1333]; My body bad lat be, And of thy siching slaik[1334]. Thow wald nocht rest, bot raik[1335], And lair[1336] thé in the myre; Yit felyeit thow to faik[1337] That thow did maist desyre.

Thocht thow do murn and weip, With inwart spreit opprest, Quhen vthir men takis sleip Thow wantis the nychtis rest. Scho quhome thow luvis best Off thé takis littill thocht, Thy wo and grit wanrest And cair scho countis nocht.

Thairfoir go hens in haist, My langour to lament, Do nocht my body waist, Quhilk nevir did consent. And thocht thow wald repent That thow hir hes persewit. Yit man[1338] thow stand content, And drynk that thow hes brewit.

[1318] Enwrapped without recovery.

[1319] aid.

[1320] endure.

[1321] blame.

[1322] lore.

[1323] kind of.

[1324] besets.

[1325] lament.

[1326] Though thou shouldst perish.

[1327] choose.

[1328] worthless.

[1329] unrest.

[1330] treated.

[1331] daily pained.

[1332] glancing.

[1333] made thee stare and idle.

[1334] slacken, abate thy sighing.

[1335] range.

[1336] earth.

[1337] failedst thou to grasp.

[1338] must.

TO LUVE VNLUVIT.

To luve vnluvit it is ane pane; For scho that is my souerane, Sum wantoun man so he[1339] hes set hir That I can get no lufe agane, Bot brekis my hairt, and nocht the bettir.

Quhen that I went with that sweit may To dance, to sing, to sport and pley, And oft-tymes in my armis plet[1340] hir, I do now mvrne both nycht and day, And brekis my hart, and nocht the bettir.

Quhair I wes wont to se hir go Rycht trymly passand to and fro With cumly smylis quhen I met hir; And now I leif in pane and wo, And brekis my hart, and nocht the bettir.

Quhattane ane glaikit fule[1341] am I, To slay my-self with malancoly, Sen weill I ken[1342] I may nocht get hir? Or quhat suld be the caus, and quhy, To brek my hart, and nocht the bettir?

My hairt, sen thow may nocht hir pleiss, Adew! As gud lufe cumis as gaiss[1343]. Go chuse ane-vdir and foryet hir. God gif him dolour and diseiss[1344] That brekis thair hairt, and nocht the bettir.

_Quod Scott quhen his Wyfe left him._

[1339] high.

[1340] folded.

[1341] What a stupid fool.

[1342] Since well I know.

[1343] goes.

[1344] want of ease.

LO, QUHAT IT IS TO LUFE.

Lo, quhat it is to lufe, Lerne, ye that list to prufe, Be me, I say, that no ways may The grund of greif remvfe, Bot still decay, both nycht and day; Lo, quhat it is to lufe.

Lufe is ane fervent fyre Kendillit without desyre, Schort plesour, lang displesour, Repentence is the hyre. Ane pure[1345] tressour, without mesour, Lufe is ane fervent fyre.

To lufe and to be wyiss, To rege[1346] with gud adwyiss. Now thus, now than, so gois the game, Incertane is the dyiss. Thair is no man, I say, that can Both lufe and to be wyiss.

Fle alwayis frome the snair; Lerne at me to be ware. It is ane pane, and dowbill trane Of endles wo and cair. For to refrane that denger plane Fle alwayis from the snair.

[1345] poor.

[1346] quarrel.

ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE.

Towards the close of the sixteenth century, while the pages of English poetry were receiving their richest contributions from the pens of Spenser, Shakespeare, and their comrade Elizabethans, the most famous, almost the sole singer left in the north was the author of “The Cherrie and the Slae.” Amid the moroseness and ecclesiastic strife which shadowed those closing years while James the Sixth still ruled at Holyrood, this voice still sang sweetly of love and laughter, of dewy nights and the lark’s morning song.

Alexander Montgomerie was a younger son of Montgomerie of Hazelhead, in Ayrshire, a scion of the noble house of Eglinton. The date of his birth remains uncertain; beyond that it was, as he himself says, “on Eister day at morne;” but he is believed to have first seen the light at Hazelhead Castle about 1545. According to references in his works, it appears that he was educated somewhere in Argyleshire. In any case it is certain that he was a man of culture and refined tastes. Of good social position, related by intermarriage with the Mures of Rowallan and the Semples of Castle Semple, he was the professed admirer of Lady Margaret Montgomerie, eldest daughter of Hugh, third Earl of Eglinton, to whom he addressed several compositions in the “despairing lover” tone fashionable in his time. He is recorded to have held some place at Court, first under the Regent Morton, and afterwards under James VI., from which, and not from military or naval rank, he appears to have derived the title of Captain. For a time he stood high in favour with the king, for whose _Essayes of a Prentise in the Divine Art of Poesie_, he wrote a commendatory sonnet by way of preface. James, moreover, in his _Rewlis and Cautelis of Poesie_, quotes several of Montgomerie’s verses as patterns, and is recorded to have been greatly diverted by the recitation of the “Flyting betwixt Montgomerie and Polwart.” Later, however, the poet shared the fate of other courtiers, and for some unknown reason fell into disgrace. Nor does any authority exist for the supposition that he regained the royal favour and accompanied the king to England. More probability attends the belief that he settled at Compton Castle, near Kirkcudbright, in Galloway, close by which, at the junction of the Dee and the Tarffe, tradition points out the scene of his chief poem, “The Cherrie and the Slae.”

In Montgomerie there appears a curious reflection, though in fainter colours, of the fate and character of Dunbar. Like the great makar of James the Fourth’s time, he was the scion of a noble house. In his verse appear the same eager efforts to secure favour at Court, the same bitterness at disappointment, and the same succeeding rancour against rivals and enemies. Here is the same oppression under insufficient means, and the same eager and thirsty heart continually mocked by “wicked weirds” and “thrauard fates.” Even his pension of 500 marks a year, chargeable on certain rents of the archbishopric of Glasgow, was withheld for a time, and only regained, by writ of privy seal, in 1588, after a vexatious law-suit. And on undertaking a foreign tour, for which he received royal leave of absence in 1586, he found himself for a time, upon what charge is unknown, thrown into prison. In one of his sonnets he records his sorrows--

If lose of guids, if gritest grudge or grief, If povertie, imprisonment, or pane, If for guid-will ingratitude agane, If languishing in langour but relief, If det, if dolour, and to become deif, If travell tint and labour lost in vane, Do properly to poets appertane, Of all that craft my chance is to be chief.

Like Dunbar, Montgomerie appears to have become serious in his later years, “the productions of which,” to quote his latest editor, “breathe a tender melancholy and unaffected piety, inspired with hopes of a fairer future, in strange contrast to some of his earlier work.” To the spirit of these years must also be attributed a metrical version of Psalms, fifteen in number, apparently part of a complete metrical paraphrase which he, in conjunction with some other writers, offered to execute for the public free of charge.

It is gathered from the anonymous publication of this collection of Psalms, entitled “The Mindes Melodie,” and from his series of epitaphs, that the poet was still alive in the year 1605; but he was dead before 1615, according to the title-page of a new edition of “The Cherrie and the Slae,” printed by Andro Hart in that year.

According to his own poetic statement, he was small of stature, fairly good-looking, and afflicted with the painful disease of gravel.

Most of Montgomerie’s poems have been preserved respectively in the Drummond, the Maitland, and the Bannatyne MSS. After many separate editions of the chief pieces, the whole of the poems were for the first time collected into one volume (Edinburgh, 1821) by David Laing, with a biographical notice by Dr. Irving, the historian of Scottish poetry. The only other complete edition is that by Dr. James Cranstoun (Scottish Text Society, 1885-87). The latter, in the present volume, is regarded as the standard text.

“The Cherrie and the Slae,” Montgomerie’s chief effort, has ever since its composition been one of the most popular of Scottish poems, no fewer than twenty-three editions of it having been printed since 1597. The intention of the allegory, according to Pinkerton, was to show that moderate pleasures are better than high ones. But Dempster, who translated it into Latin, considered it to be, first, a love allegory, picturing a young man’s choice between a humble and a high-born mistress, and afterwards the pourtrayal of a struggle between virtue and vice. Most readers are likely to agree with Dr. Cranstoun in considering Dempster’s solution correct, believing with him that “what the poet began as an amatory lay he ended as a moral poem; what he meant for a song turned out a sermon.” Thus, probably, it comes about that the allegory is of small account, the chief value and charm of the poem lying in its passages of description, its freshness of imagery, and its mother-wit. The opening stanzas present by far the best part of the composition. The remainder possesses but secondary interest, notwithstanding the many pithy sayings introduced; and no climax is reached even when the cherry is attained at the end of the piece.

Of the poet’s other works the longest extant is “The Flyting betwixt Montgomerie and Polwart,” a tournament of Rabelaisian humour in the style of the famous “Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedie.” Its chief interest, for poetic qualities it has none, is as a specimen of a class of composition--the mock duel of vituperation between good friends--which was in those times considered an amusing literary performance. His sonnets, “characterised by great poetic skill and singular felicity of diction,” furnish no mean contribution to the stores of a verse-form then greatly cultivated, while his miscellaneous poems, nearly all amatory, exhibit mastery of a great variety of measures. Sometimes, however, the tone of these appears affected to a modern ear, and their imagery apt to descend into conceits.

There remains, preserved by the Maitland MS., another poem, “The Bankis of Helicon,” a love lyric of great charm, which long enjoyed the reputation of being the earliest piece written in the stanza of “The Cherrie and the Slae.” Laing thought it possible that Montgomerie might be the author of this, and Dr. Cranstoun establishes the opinion with a fair amount of certainty, considering it one of the series of compositions addressed by the poet to his kinswoman, Lady Margaret Montgomerie, and pointing out the frequency with which sets of expressions and even whole lines from the other pieces of the series are repeated in it. Even if ascertained beyond doubt, however, the authorship of “The Bankis of Helicon” would add nothing to Montgomerie’s reputation, which is likely to live and die with the reputation of his greatest work, the lyrical allegory of “The Cherrie and the Slae.”

Greater in manner than in matter, Montgomerie’s verse owes its charm to finish and grace rather than to vigour and imagination, affording rather a late reflection of the early glories of the century than the glow of a new inspiration; nevertheless it has remained constantly popular, a surprising number of its lines having become household words in the shape of proverbs; it claims the credit, along with Dunbar’s work, of furnishing models both to Allan Ramsay and to Burns; and, beyond all its Scottish contemporaries, it possesses intrinsic qualities which assure it an enduring fame.

THE CHERRIE AND THE SLAE.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.