Part 8

The catalogue of Bellenden’s works, though important in more than one detail, is not of great length. He is said to have written a treatise, _De Litera Pythagoræ_--the letter _upsilon_, in the form of which Pythagoras had chosen to see certain emblematical properties. Of this treatise nothing is now known. It is to his translations of Boece and Livy that the Archdeacon of Moray owes his chief fame. The first edition of the Latin _History of Scotland_ by Hector Boece, consisting of seventeen books, had been printed at Paris in 1526, and dedicated to James V.[583] That king’s knowledge of Latin must have been strictly limited, as we know from Lyndsay he was withdrawn from school at twelve years of age. His desire, therefore, for a translation into the vernacular may be understood. Bellenden’s translation, with Boece’s “cosmographé,” or description of Scotland, prefixed, was published at Edinburgh in 1541,[584] and has the credit of being the earliest existing prose work in the Scottish language. The translator divided Boece’s books into chapters, and, from a reference in his proheme, apparently meant to bring the history down to his own time. As a translation the work is somewhat free, Bellenden having taken the liberty of correcting errors and supplying omissions where he thought right. Nevertheless it soon became the standard translation of the historian, and was the version which, with interpolations from the histories of Major, Lesley, and Buchanan, was used by Hollinshed, being the direct channel, therefore, through which Shakespeare derived the story of Macbeth. As a contribution to literature it remains the earliest and the most ample specimen we possess of Scottish prose. “Rich,” as its latest editor has said, “in barbaric pearl and gold,” while “the rust of age has not obscured the fancy and imagery with which the work abounds,” it affords an admirable illustration of the force and variety of the language in which it was written.

[583] Hector Boece, born 1465-66, was Principal of King’s College, Aberdeen, then newly founded by Bishop Elphinstone; and he died Rector of Tyrie in Buchan, in 1536. The second edition of his _History_ was not published till 1574. It included the eighteenth and part of the nineteenth book by Boece, and a continuation to the end of the reign of James III. by the celebrated scholar Ferrerius.

[584] On the title page the translator is styled “Archdene of Murray and Chanon of Rosse,” and, as Irving points out, he was not in possession of these titles at the time of purchasing escheat in 1538. The date of 1536 sometimes assigned to this edition is probably therefore a mistake. Only two copies of the edition are now known to exist.

At the end of his translation Bellenden appended an epistle to the king--one of these sound, if somewhat plain, admonitions which his courtiers apparently did not scruple to address to James the Fifth. It deals boldly with the distinction between a king and a tyrant, and does not hesitate to hold up by way of example the fate which has constantly overtaken the wickedness of princes.

The best edition of Bellenden’s Boece is that edited, with a biographical introduction by Thomas Maitland, Lord Dundrennan, and published at Edinburgh in two volumes, quarto, in 1821. The only edition of the Livy is one by the same editor, printed in 1822 from a manuscript in the Advocates’ Library. The translation extends only to the first five books of the original, though it was Bellenden’s intention to furnish a complete version of his author. The work actually done is characterised, like the translation of Boece, by great fluency and vividness, and a natural happiness of style.

But it is to Bellenden’s work as a poet that the chief consideration is here due. To each of his three translations he prefixed a poetical proheme, or preface, of some length; before the title-page of his Boece appears a quaint “Excusation of the Prentar” which must be attributed to him; and a separate poem of twenty-two stanzas by him, entitled “The Benner of Pietie, concerning the Incarnatioun of our Saluiour Chryst,” forms one of the duplicate articles in the Bannatyne MS., printed by the Hunterian Club, 1878-86.[585] These five compositions represent his entire poetical achievement so far as is known. Though printed each in its due place, as above indicated, they have never been collected in a single volume.[586]

[585] This MS., by the older writers on Bellenden, is called sometimes the “Carmichael Collection,” from the name of the owner who lent it to Allan Ramsay, sometimes the “Hyndford MS.,” from John, third Earl of Hyndford, who presented it to the Advocates’ Library. This difference of appellation has not lessened the confusion hitherto involving the poet and his work.

[586] The prohemes from the translation of Boece, after being copied in part by Bannatyne in his MS., were included in Ramsay’s _Evergreen_ and in Sibbald’s _Chronicle of Scottish Poetry_. The prologue to Livy was printed first by Dr. Leyden in the dissertation prefixed to his edition of _The Complaynt of Scotland_.

Bellenden’s chief poem is the proheme to the cosmographé prefixed to his translation of Boece. It bears no real relation to the work which it precedes, and is believed to have been written before 1530. Modelled upon the classical allegory of the “Choice of Hercules,” it is addressed to James V., and with great tact seeks to convey a somewhat pertinent moral lesson to that youthful monarch. The original title of the composition is understood to have been “Virtew and Vyce”; and after the poetic fashion of its time the allegory is cast in form of a dream. It describes the wooing of a handsome young prince, whose personality can hardly be mistaken, by two lovely and splendidly attired ladies, Delight and Virtue. With quaint shrewdness the poet contrives to awaken at the proper moment, saving himself the invidious task of describing the prince’s choice.

The proheme to the history is a graver and less poetical production, though bearing a closer relation to the work which follows. The chief object of history, it declares in effect, is to set forth the noble deeds of the past as an example to the present--a task performed with great array of classic information. The most striking passage of the poem is the descant on nobility, which occupies nine out of the twenty-nine stanzas. Some of the lines in this have all the incisiveness of the clearest-cut aphorism.

Somewhat the same theory of history forms the burden of the prologue to Livy. The chief interest of this piece consists, perhaps, as Lord Dundrennan pointed out, in its representation of James V. as a patron of literature. The opening stanzas, however, are not without a certain warlike resonance suited to a prelude of Roman deeds of arms.

Altogether, though not of the era-making order, and though comparatively limited in quantity, the poetry of Bellenden is worthy of more attention than it has hitherto received. In allegoric method and in form of verse it follows the fashion of its day, and it shares that fashion’s faults; but, these drawbacks apart, it is marked by great skill and smoothness of versification, by no small descriptive charm, and by a certain happy vividness of imagery which again and again surprises and delights the reader. One can almost feel the breath of

Notus brim, the wind meridiane, With wingis donk, and pennis full of rane;

and a seascape rises instantly before the eye at mention of the

Carvell ticht, fast tending throw the se.

Beyond this, Bellenden shows himself a careful student of human nature, with more than one significant word to say upon the subject.

VIRTEW AND VYCE.

_The Proheme of the Cosmographé prefixed to Boece’s History._

Quhen silvir Diane, ful of bemis bricht, Fra dirk[587] eclips wes past, this othir nicht, And in the Crab, hir propir mansion, gane; Artophilax contending at his micht In the gret eist to set his visage richt, I mene the ledar of the Charle-wane, Abone[588] our heid wes the Ursis twane; Quhen sterris small obscuris in our sicht And Lucifer left twinkland him allane;

The frosty nicht with hir prolixit houris Hir mantill quhit spred on the tender flouris; Quhen ardent lauboure hes addressit me Translait the story of our progenitouris, Thair gret manheid, hie wisdome, and honouris; Quhen we may cleir as in ane mirroure se The furius end, sum-time, of tirannie, Sum-time the glore of prudent governouris Ilk stait apprisit[589] in thair faculte;

My wery spreit desiring to repres My emptive pen of frutles besines, Awalkit furth to tak the recent aire; Quhen Priapus, with stormy weid oppres, Raqueistit me in his maist tendernes To rest ane quhile amid his gardingis bare. Bot I no maner couth[590] my mind prepare To set aside unplesand hevines, On this and that contempling solitare.

And first occurrit to my remembring How that I wes in service with the King, Put to his Grace in yeris tenderest, Clerk of his Comptis, thoucht I wes inding[591], With hart and hand and every othir thing That micht him pleis in ony maner best; Quhill[592] hie invy me from his service kest Be thaim that had the Court in governing, As bird but plumes heryit[593] of the nest.

Our life, our giding, and our aventuris Dependis from thir hevinlie creaturis Apperandlie be sum necessite. For thoucht[594] ane man wald set his besy curis[595], So far as laboure and his wisdome furis, To fle hard chance of infortunite; Thoucht he eschew it with difficulte, The cursit weird yit ithandlie enduris[596], Gevin to him first in his nativitie.

Of erdlie[597] stait bewaling thus the chance, Of fortoun gud I had na esperance. So lang I swomit[598] in hir seis deip That sad avising[599] with hir thochtful lance Couth find na port to ankir hir firmance; Quhill Morpheus, the drery god of sleip, For very reuth did on my curis weip, And set his sleuth[600] and deidly contenance With snorand vanis throw my body creip.

Me-thocht I was in-to ane plesand meid, Quhare Flora maid the tender blewmis spreid Throw kindlie dew and humouris nutrative, Quhen goldin Titan, with his flammis reid, Abone the seis rasit up his heid, Diffounding[601] down his heit restorative To every frute that nature maid on live, Quhilk wes afore in-to the winter deid, For stormis cald and frostis penitrive[602].

Ane silver fontane sprang of watter cleir In-to that place quhare I approchit neir, Quhare I did sone espy ane fellown reird[603] Of courtly gallandis in thair best maneir Rejosing thaim in season of the yeir, As it had bene of Mayis day the feird[604]. Thair gudlie havingis maid me nocht affeird; With thaim I saw are crownit King appeir, With tender downis rising on his beird.

Thir courtlie gallandis settand thair intentis To sing, and play on divers instrumentis, According to this Princis appetit; Two plesand ladyis come pransand ouir the bentis[605]; Thair costlie clethin schew thair michty rentis[606]. Quhat hart micht wis, thay wantit nocht ane mit; The rubeis schone apone thair fingaris quhit; And finalie I knew, be thair consentis, This ane Virtew, that other hecht[607] Delite.

Thir goddesses arrayit in this wise, As reverence and honoure list devise, Afore this Prince fell down apon thair kneis, Syne dressit thaim in-to thair best avise[608], So far as wisdome in thair power lyis, To do the thing that micht him best appleis, Quhare he rejosit in his hevinly gleis[609]; And him desirit, for his hie empryis[610], Ane of thaim two unto his lady cheis[611].

And first Delite unto this Prince said thus, “Maist vailyeant knicht, in dedis amorus, And lustiest[612] that evir nature wrocht, Quhilk[613] in the floure of youth mellifluus, With notis sweit and sang melodius Awalkis heir amang the flouris soft, Thow hes no game bot in thy mery thocht. My hevinly blis is so delicius, All welth in erd[614], bot it, avalis nocht.

“Thoucht thow had France, and Italie also, Spane, Inglande, Pole, with othir realmes mo, Thoucht thow micht regne in stait maist glorius, Thy pissant[615] kingdome is nocht worth ane stro Gif it unto thy pleseir be ane fo, Or trubill thy mind with curis dolorus. Thair is na-thing may be so odius To man, as leif[616] in miserie and wo, Defraudand God of nature genius.

“Dres thé thairfore with all thy besy cure, That thow in joy and pleseir may indure, Be sicht of thir[617] four bodyis elementar; Two hevy and grosse, and two ar licht and pure. Thir elementis, be wirking of nature, Douth change in othir; and thocht thay be richt far Fra othir severit, with qualiteis contrar, Of thaim ar maid all levand creature, And finalie in thaim resolvit ar.

“The fire in air, the air in watter cleir, In erd the watter turnis without weir[618], The erd in watter turnis ouir agane, So furth in ordour; na-thing consumis heir. Ane man new borne beginnis to appeir In othir figure than afore wes tane[619]; Quhen he is deid the mater dois remane, Thoucht it resolve in-to sum new maneir; No-thing new, nocht bot the forme is gane.

“Thus is no-thing in erd bot fugitive, Passand and cumand be spreiding successive. And as ane beist, so is ane man consave Of seid infuse in membris genitive, And furth his time in pleseir dois ouir-drive, As chance him ledis, quhill he be laid in grave. Thairfore thy hevin and pleseir now ressave Quhill thow art heir in-to this present live; For eftir deith thow sall na pleseir have.

“The rose, the lillyis, and the violet, Unpullit, sone ar with the wind ouirset, And fallis doun but[620] ony frut, I wis: Thairfore I say, sen that no-thing may let[621], Bot thy bricht hew mon[622] be with yeris fret[623], (For every-thing bot for ane season is,) Thow may nocht have ane more excellent blis Than ly all nicht in-to min armis plet[624], To hals and brais[625] with mony lusty kis,

“And have my tender body be thy side, So propir, fet, quhilk nature hes provide With every pleseir that thow may devine, Ay quhill my tender yeris be ouir-slide. Than gif it pleis that I thy bridill gide Thow mon alway fra agit men decline; Sine dres thy hart, thy curage, and ingine[626] To suffir nane into thy hous abide Bot gif thay will unto thy lust[627] incline.

“Gif thow desiris in the seis fleit[628] Of hevinly blis, than me thy lady treit; For it is said be clerkis of renoun Thair is na pleseir in this eird so gret As quhen ane luffar dois his lady meit, To quikin his life of mony deidly swon. As hiest pleseir but comparison I sall thé geif, into thy yeris swete, Ane lusty halk with mony plumis broun,

“Quhilk sal be found so joyus and plesant, Gif thow unto hir mery flichtis hant[629], Of every blis that may in erd appeir, As hart will think, thow sall no plente want, Quhill yeris swift, with quhelis properant[630], Consume thy strenth and all thy bewte cleir.” And quhen Delite had said on this maneir, As rage of youtheid thocht maist relevant Than Virtew said as ye sall eftir heir.

“My landis braid, with mony plentuus schire[631], Sall gif thy Hienes, gif thou list desire, Triumphant glore, hie honoure, fame devine, With sic pissance that thaim na furius ire, Nor werand[632] age, nor flame of birnand fire, Nor bitter deith, may bring unto rewine. Bot thow mon first insuffer mekill pine[633], Abone thy-self that thow may have empire; Than sall thy fame and honoure have na fine[634].

“My realme is set among my fois all; Quhilkis hes with me ane weir[635] continewall, And evir still dois on my bordour ly; And, thoucht thay may no wayis me ouirthrall[636], Thay ly in wait, gif ony chance may fall Of me sum-time to get the victory. Thus is my life ane ithand chevalry[637]: Laubour me haldis strang as ony wall And no-thing brekis[638] me bot slogardy.

“Na fortoun may aganis me availl Thoucht scho with cludy stormis me assaill. I brek the streme of scharp adversite. In weddir louin[639], and maist tempestius haill, But ony dreid, I beir ane equall saill, My schip so strang that I may nevir de. Wit, reason, manheid, governis me so hie, No influence nor sterris may prevaill To regne on me with infortunite.

“The rage of youtheid may nocht dantit be[640] But gret distres and scharp adversite; As be this reason is experience-- The finest gold or silver that we se May nocht be wrocht to our utilite But flammis kene and bitter violence. The more distres the more intelligence. Quhay salis lang in hie prosperitie Ar sone ouirset be stormy violence.

“This fragill life, as moment induring, But dout sall thé and every pepill bring To sickir[641] blis or than eternal wo. Gif thow be honest lauboure dois ane thing, Thy panefull laubour sall vanes but tarying[642], Howbeit thy honest werkis do nocht so. Gif thow be lust dois ony thing also, The schamefull deid, without dissevering, Remanis ay, quhen pleseir is ago[643].

“As carvell ticht, fast tending throw the se, Levis na prent amang the wallis hie; As birdis swift, with mony besy plume, Peirsis the aire, and wait[644] nocht quhare thay fle; Siclik[645] our life, without activite, Giffis na frut, howbeit ane schado blume. Quhay dois thair life into this erd consume Without virtew, thair fame and memorie Sall vanis soner than the reky[646] fume.

“As watter purgis and makis bodyis fair, As fire be nature ascendis in the aire And purifyis with heitis vehement, As floure dois smell, as frute is nurisare, As precius balme revertis thingis sare[647] And makis thaim of rot impacient, As spice maist swete, as ros maist redolent, As stern of day[648], be moving circulare, Chasis the nicht with bemis resplendent;

“Siclik my werk perfitis[649] every wicht In fervent luf of maist excellent licht, And makis man into this erd but peir[650], And dois the saule fra all corruptioun dicht[651] With odoure dulce, and makis it more bricht Than Diane full, or yit Appollo cleir, Sine rasis it unto the hiest speir[652], Immortaly to schine in Goddis sicht, As chosin spous and creature most deir.

“This othir wenche, that clepit[653] is Delite, Involvis man, be sensuall appetite, In every kind of vice and miserie; Becaus na wit nor reason is perfite Quhan scho is gide, bot skaithis[654] infinite, With doloure, schame, and urgent poverte. For sche wes get of frothis of the see, Quhilk signifies, hir pleseir vennomit Is midlit[655] ay with scharp adversite.

“Duke Hanniball, as mony authouris wrait, Throw Spanye come, be mony passage strait, To Italy in furour bellicall[656]; Brak doun the wallis, and the montanis slait[657], And to his army maid ane oppin gait, And victoryis had on the Romanis all. At Capua, be pleseir sensuall, This Duk wes maid so soft and diligait[658] That with his fois he wes sone ouirthrall.

“Of feirs Achill the weirlie[659] dedis sprang In Troy and Grece quhill he in virtew rang[660]; How lust him slew it is bot reuth to heir. Siclik the Trojanis, with thair knichtis strang The vailyeant Grekis fra thair roumes dang[661], Victoriuslie exercit mony yeir; That nicht thay went to thair lust and pleseir The fatall hors did throw thair wallis fang[662], Quhais prignant sidis wer full of men of weir.

“Sardanapall, the prince effeminat, Fra knichtlie dedis wes degenerat; Twinand the thredis of the purpur lint With fingaris soft, amang the ladyis sat, And with his lust couth nocht be saciat, Quhill of his fois come the bitter dint. Quhat nobill men and ladyis hes bene tint[663] Quhen thay with lustis wer intoxicat, To schaw at lenth, my toung suld nevir stint[664].

“Thairfore Camil, the vailyeant chevaleir, Quhen he the Gallis had dantit be his weir[665], Of heritable landis wald have na recompence; For, gif his barnis[666] and his freindis deir Wer virtewis, thay couth nocht fail ilk yeir To have ineuch be Romane providence; Gif thay wer gevin to vice and insolence It wes nocht neidfull for to conques geir[667] To be occasioun of thair incontinence.

“Sum nobill men, as poetis list declare, Wer deifeit[668], sum goddis of the aire, Sum of the hevin, as Eolus, Vulcan, Saturn, Mercury, Appollo, Jupitare, Mars, Hercules, and othir men preclare[669], That glore immortall in thair livis wan. Quhy wer thir peple callit goddis than? Becaus thay had ane virtew singulare, Excellent, hie abone ingine[670] of man.

“And otheris ar in reik sulphurius; As Ixion, and wery Sisiphus, Eumenides the Furyis richt odibill, The proud giandis, and thristy Tantalus; With huglie[671] drink and fude most vennomus, Quhare flammis bald and mirknes[672] ar sensibill. Quhy ar thir folk in panis so terribill? Becaus thay wer bot schrewis vicius Into thair life, with dedis most horribill.

“And thoucht na frute wer eftir consequent Of mortall life, bot for this warld present Ilk man to have allanerlie[673] respect, Yit virtew suld fra vice be different As quik fra deid, as rich fra indigent. That ane to glore and honour ay direct, This othir, saule and body, to neclect; That ane of reason most intelligent, This othir of beistis following the affect.

“For he that nold[674] aganis his lustis strive, Bot leiffis as beist of knawlege sensitive[675], Eildis[676] richt fast, and deith him sone ouir-halis[677]. Thairfore the mule is of ane langar live Than stonit hors; also the barant wive[678] Apperis young quhen that the brudie falis[679]. We se also, quhen nature nocht prevalis, The pane and dolour ar sa pungitive No medicine the pacient avalis.

“Sen thow hes hard baith our intentis thus, Cheis of us two the maist delitius; First, to sustene ane scharp adversite, Danting the rage of youtheid furius, And sine posseid[680] triumphe innumerus, With lang empire and hie felicite; Or haif, ane moment, sensualite Of fuliche youth, in life voluptuous, And all thy dayis full of miserie.”

Be than, Phebus his firy cart did wry Fra south to west, declinand besaly To dip his steidis in the occeane, Quhen he began ouirsile[681] his visage dry With vapouris thik, and cloudis full of sky, And Notus brim[682], the wind meridiane With wingis donk and pennis full of rane, Awalkenit me, that I micht nocht aspy Quhilk of thaim two was to his lady tane.

Bot sone I knew thay war the goddesses That come in sleip to vailyeant Hercules Quhen he was young and fre of every lore To lust or honour, poverte or riches, Quhen he contempnit lust and idilnes That he in virtew micht his life decore[683], And werkis did of maist excellent glore. The more incressit his panefull besines, His hie triumphe and loving[684] was the more.

Thair, throw this morall eruditioun Quhilk come, as said is, in my visioun, I tuke purpos, or I forthir went, To write the story of this regioun, With dedis of mony illuster campioun[685]. And, thoucht the pane apperis vehement, To mak the story to the redaris more patent I will begin at the discriptioun Of Albion, in maner subsequent.

[587] From dark.

[588] Above.

[589] valued.

[590] could.

[591] unworthy.

[592] Till.

[593] harried.

[594] though.

[595] cares.

[596] doom yet constantly endures.

[597] earthly.

[598] swam.

[599] That grave deliberation.

[600] slothful.

[601] Diffusing.

[602] penetrative.

[603] loud noise.