Part 15

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 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 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 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 ay All fulische folke espye; Behynd so, they fynd so Remeid, and so do I.

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 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 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, Cupido I widill and [I] warye[1413], Quha reft me, and left me In sik a feirie-farye[1414].

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 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 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 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 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 Of CHERRIES in the braes. Belaw, to, I saw, to, Ane buss of bitter SLAES[1442].

The CHERRIES hang 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 powre Quhan all thy banis ar brokin: Yone SLAE, 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 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.”

[The argument is taken up by Hope, Will, Reason, Experience, and other allegorical qualities, who each urge their view of the enterprise. Finally, by all in company, the ascent is essayed, and the Cherrie secured.]

[1347] boughs.

[1348] each.

[1349] thrush.

[1350] swallow and nightingale.

[1351] sound.

[1352] hedgehog.

[1353] rabbit.

[1354] polecat.

[1355] skipping.

[1356] kept their haunts.

[1357] wild.

[1358] bough.

[1359] cliff.

[1360] budding.

[1361] ringdove.

[1362] shrill.

[1363] stared.

[1364] Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, iii. 407, and on. The legend is alluded to by Shelley in “The Sensitive Plant,” when he describes the narcissus flowers,

“Who gaze on thine eyes in the stream’s recess Till they die of their own dear loveliness.”

[1365] twigs.

[1366] Till.

[1367] pool under a cataract.

[1368] descending.

[1369] The syllables, _ut_, _re_, _mi_, _fa_, _so_, _la_, are said, says Dr. Cranstoun, “to have been first used in the teaching of singing by Guido of Arezzo in the eleventh century. Le Maire, a French musician of the seventeenth century, added _si_ for the seventh of the scale.”

[1370] _i.e._ the throat of Echo, one of the cavern elves.

[1371] are accustomed to be.

[1372] above.

[1373] Till Cupid wakens.

[1374] earth.

[1375] mildly and quietly.

[1376] veil of cobweb lawn.

[1377] arm-covering.

[1378] marvels.

[1379] Perceiving my behaviour.

[1380] jested.

[1381] to hold sway.

[1382] wooed, made sign for.

[1383] have it gladly.

[1384] resigns.

[1385] higher than.

[1386] burned.

[1387] flame.

[1388] foolishly fond of.

[1389] by suit.

[1390] upon it.

[1391] hews (a tree) too high.

[1392] splinter.

[1393] An allusion to the fable of Æsop, versified by Henryson. The swallow, seeing a farmer sowing flax, begged the other birds to help her to pick up the seed, as the thread produced from it should compose the fowler’s snare. Being twice refused and ridiculed, she resolved to quit the society of her thoughtless fellows, and has ever since frequented the dwellings of men.

[1394] shut.

[1395] stolen.

[1396] is ignorant of, refuses to acknowledge.

[1397] From the time when.

[1398] groaning.

[1399] booty.

[1400] hurt.

[1401] staggering state.

[1402] under (beyond) cure I got such check.

[1403] prevent (receiving check).

[1404] either be stale or checkmated.

[1405] fainted and swooned.

[1406] ere I wakened from.

[1407] spoiled.

[1408] staring at the stars.

[1409] brains.

[1410] disordered.

[1411] sighed till.

[1412] by such a boy.

[1413] shake fist at and curse.

[1414] disorder, consternation.

[1415] strange.

[1416] Unburnt and unboiled.

[1417] By love’s bellows blown.

[1418] to smother it.

[1419] endeavouring without ceasing.

[1420] skeleton.

[1421] withered.

[1422] throbbing.

[1423] My pulses leaped.

[1424] get.

[1425] it behoved to abide.

[1426] enclosed.

[1427] overcome and upset.

[1428] In death-agony still living.

[1429] though.

[1430] death.

[1431] straining and thrusting.

[1432] more troubled.

[1433] ease.

[1434] annoyance.

[1435] oppressed.

[1436] drought.

[1437] dry grass stalks.

[1438] No token.

[1439] at once.

[1440] groans.

[1441] sheer.

[1442] A bush of sloes.

[1443] crag.

[1444] perfectly.

[1445] tough twigs.

[1446] through burden of their produce.

[1447] sheltered place.

[1448] knobs.

[1449] In ripples like diaper figuring.

[1450] Half-way.

[1451] Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, i. 452, and on.

[1452] without tiring.

[1453] use.

[1454] endeavour.

[1455] steep and wearisome.

[1456] far up, tall, and slender.

[1457] to essay it.

[1458] At times trying, at times stopping.

[1459] To stretch above my reach.

[1460] but foolish that has aught to do.

[1461] To dastards hard hazards.

[1462] Is death ere.

[1463] Softly.

[1464] Take care.

[1465] thou catch no hurt.

[1466] few times thou seest.

[1467] Foolish haste.

[1468] Beguiles.

[1469] considers not.

[1470] learn.

[1471] Atropos, eldest of the Fates, presiding over death.

[1472] youngest of the Fates, presiding over birth.

[1473] “Extremes are vicious.” The poet here advocates Horace’s “golden mean,” the counsel of the Greek proverb Μηδὲν ἄγαν, said to have been one of the inscriptions on the tripod of the oracle at Delphi.

[1474] signs.

[1475] knowest.

[1476] although.

[1477] slake.

[1478] drought.

[1479] Than fight with ten at once.

[1480] practice.

[1481] liefer, rather.

THE NIGHT IS NEIR GONE.[1482]

Hay! nou the day dauis[1483]; The jolie Cok crauis; Nou shroudis the shauis[1484] Throu Natur anone. The thissell-cok[1485] cryis On louers vha lyis: Nou skaillis[1486] the skyis: The nicht is neir gone.

The feildis ouerflouis With gouans[1487] that grouis, Quhair lilies lyk lou[1488] is, Als rid as the rone[1489]. The turtill that treu is With nots that reneuis Hir pairtie[1490] perseuis; The night is neir gone.

Nou hairtis with hyndis Conforme to thair kyndis Hie tursis thair tyndis[1491] On grund vhair they grone. Nou hurchonis[1492] with hairis Ay passis in pairis; Quhilk deuly declairis The night is neir gone.

The sesone excellis Thrugh sueetnes that smellis; Nou Cupid compellis Our hairtis echone[1493] On Venus vha vaikis[1494], To muse on our maikis[1495], Syn sing for thair saikis-- The night is neir gone.

All curageous knichtis Aganis the day dichtis[1496] The breist-plate that bright is To feght with thair fone[1497]. The stoned steed[1498] stampis Throu curage, and crampis[1499], Syn on the land lampis[1500]. The night is neir gone.

The freikis[1501] on feildis, That wight wapins[1502] weildis, With shyning bright sheildis, [As] Titan in trone[1503]; Stiff speiris in reistis Ouer cursoris cristis Ar brok on thair breistis: The night is neir gone.

So hard ar thair hittis, Some sueyis, some sittis, And some perforce flittis[1504] On grund vhill they grone. Syn groomis[1505] that gay is On blonkis that brayis[1506] With suordis assayis: The night is neir gone.

[1482] “This lovely poem is one of the happiest efforts of Montgomerie’s muse, and shows his lyric genius at its best. It is perhaps the oldest set of words extant to the air ‘Hey tuttie, taittie’--the war-note sounded for the Bruce on the field of Bannockburn, and familiarized to everyone by Burns’ ‘Scots wha hae.’ The song was one of those chosen for adaptation by the Wedderburns in their ‘Compendious Buik of godly and spirituall Sangis.’”--(Cranstoun, _Notes_, p. 371.)

[1483] dawns.

[1484] the coverts attire themselves.

[1485] throstle-cock.

[1486] scatter.

[1487] daisies.

[1488] flame.

[1489] As red as the rowan, mountain ash.

[1490] partner.

[1491] Toss high their tines, antlers.

[1492] hedgehogs.

[1493] each one.

[1494] attends.

[1495] mates.

[1496] prepare.

[1497] foes.

[1498] _i.e._ The stallion.

[1499] rears (?)

[1500] gallops.

[1501] men, stout fellows.

[1502] strong weapons.

[1503] throne.

[1504] change quarters.

[1505] Then gallants.

[1506] On white steeds that neigh.

AN ADMONITIOUN TO YOUNG LASSIS.

A bony “No,” with smyling looks agane, I wald ye leirnd, sen they so comely ar. As touching “Yes,” if ye suld speik so plane, I might reprove you to haif said so far. Noght that your grant in ony wayis micht gar[1507] Me loth the fruit that curage ocht to chuse; Bot I wald only haif you seme to skar[1508], And let me tak it, fenzeing[1509] to refuse;

And warsill[1510], as it war against your will, Appeiring angrie, thoght ye haif no yre: For haif[1511], ye heir, is haldin half a fill. I speik not this as trouing for to tyre; Bot as the forger[1512], vhen he feeds his fyre, With sparks of water maks it burne more bald[1513]; So sueet denyall doubillis bot desyr, And quickins curage fra becomming cald.

Wald ye be made of, ye man[1514] mak it nyce; For dainties heir ar delicat and deir, Bot plentie[1515] things ar prysde to litill pryce. Then, thoght ye hearken, let no wit ye heir, Bot look auay, and len thame ay your eir. For, folou love, they say, and it will flie. Wald ye be lovd, this lessone mon ye leir[1516]; Flie vhylome[1517] love, and it will folou thee.

[1507] cause.

[1508] scare.

[1509] feigning.

[1510] wrestle.

[1511] have; _i.e._ possession already half satisfies.

[1512] smith.

[1513] boldly.

[1514] must.

[1515] plentiful.

[1516] learn.

[1517] for a time.

TO HIS MAISTRES.

Bright amorous ee vhare Love in ambush [lyes]-- Cleir cristall tear distilde at our depairt[1518] Sueet secreit sigh more peircing nor a dairt-- Inchanting voce, beuitcher of the wyse-- Quhyt ivory hand vhilk thrust my finger[s pryse]-- I challenge you, the causers of my smarte, As homiceids and murtherers of my harte, In Resone’s court to suffer ane assyse. Bot oh! I fear, yea rather wot I weill, To be repledgt ye plainly will appeill To Love, whom Resone never culd comm[and]. Bot, since I can not better myn estate, Yit, vhill I live, at leist I sall regrate Ane ee, a teir, a sigh, a voce, a hand.

[1518] parting.

TO HIS MAISTRES.

So suete a kis yistrene fra thee I reft In bouing doun thy body on the bed, That evin my lyfe within thy lippis I left. Sensyne[1519] from thee my spirit wald neuer shed[1520]. To folou thee it from my body fled, And left my corps als cold as ony kie[1521]. Bot vhen the danger of my death I dred[1522], To seik my spreit I sent my harte to thee; Bot it wes so inamored with thyn ee, With thee it myndit lykuyse to remane. So thou hes keepit captive all the thrie, More glaid to byde then to returne agane. Except thy breath thare places had suppleit, Euen in thyn armes thair doutles had I deit.

[1519] Since then.

[1520] separate.

[1521] key.

[1522] feared.

TO THÉ FOR ME.

Suete Nichtingale in holene[1523] grene that han[ts] To sport thy-self, and speciall in the spring, Thy chivring chirlis[1524], vhilks changinglie thou [chants,] Maks all the roches round about thé ring; Vhilk slaiks my sorou, so to heir thé sing, And lights my louing langour at the leist; Yit, thoght[1525] thou sees not, sillie, saikles[1526] thing! The piercing pykis brods[1527] at thy bony breist[1528]. Euin so am I, by plesur lykuyis preist[1529], In gritest danger vhair I most delyte. Bot since thy song for shoring[1530] hes not ceist Suld feble I for feir my conqueis quyt[1531]? Na, na,--I love thé, freshest Phœnix fair! In beuty, birth, in bounty but compair[1532].

[1523] holly.

[1524] quivering trills.

[1525] though.

[1526] frail, innocent.

[1527] thorns prick.

[1528] bonnie breast.

[1529] likewise tried.

[1530] threatening.

[1531] my conquest (or object of conquest) quit.

[1532] without peer.

_William Hodge & Co., Printers, Glasgow_

ABBOTSFORD SERIES OF THE SCOTTISH POETS.

EDITED BY GEORGE EYRE-TODD.

_Bound in cloth, crown 8vo., 3s. 6d. each volume._

A limited number of copies printed on large antique paper, Roxburgh binding, price 5s. nett.

This series is intended to reproduce in popular form the best Works of the Scottish Poets, from the earliest times onwards; and it is hoped within a moderate number of volumes to furnish a comprehensive library of the Poetry of Scotland.

No liberties whatever are taken with the texts, which are edited from the best editions, and furnished with necessary introductions and glossaries.

* * * * *

The first three volumes of the series are now ready:--

~EARLY SCOTTISH POETRY~: Thomas the Rhymer, John Barbour, Androw of Wyntoun, and Henry the Minstrel.

~MEDIÆVAL SCOTTISH POETRY~: James I. of Scotland, Robert Henryson, William Dunbar, and Gavin Douglas.