The Turnament

Nixt that a turnament wes tryid,
That lang befoir in hell wes cryid,
In presens of Mahoun ;
Betuix a telȝour and ane sowtar,
A pricklouss and ane hobbell clowttar,
The barress wes maid boun.

The tailȝeour, baith with speir and scheild,
Convoyit wes vnto the feild,
With mony lymmar loun,
Off seme byttaris and beist knapparis,
Off stomok steillaris and clayth takkaris,
A graceless garisoun.

His baner born wes him befoir,
Quhairin wes clowttis ane hundreth scoir,
Ilk ane of diuerss hew ;
And all stowin out of sindry webbis,
For, quhill the Greik sie flowis and ebbis,
Telȝouris will nevir be trew.

The tailȝour on the barrowis blent,
Allaiss ! he tynt all hardyment,
Ffor feir he chaingit hew :
Mahoun come furth and maid him knycht,
Na ferly thocht his hart wes licht,
That to sic honor grew.

The tailȝeour hecht hely befoir Mahoun,
That he suld ding the sowtar doun,
Thocht he wer Strang as mast ;
Bot quhen he on the barrowis blenkit,
The telȝouris hairt a littill schrenkit,
His hairt did all ourcast

Quhen to the sowtar he did cum,
Off all sic wirdis he wes full dum,
So soir he wes agast ;
In harte he tuke ȝit sic ane scunner,
Ane rak of fartis lyk ony thunner,
Went fra him, blast for blast

The sowtar to the feild him drest,
He wes convoyid out of the west,
As ane defender stout :
Suppoiss he had na lusty varlot,
He had full mony lowsy harlott,
Round rynnand him aboute,

His baner wes of barkit hyd,
Quhairin Sanct Girnega did glyd,
Befoir that rebald rowt :
Ffull sowttar lyk he wes of laitis,
For ay betuix the harness plaitis
The vly birstit out.

Quhen on the telȝour he did luke,
His hairt a littill dwamyng tuke,
He mycht nocht rycht vpsitt ;
In to his stommok wes sic ane steir,
Off all his dennar quhilk he coft deir
His breist held deill a bitt.

To comfort him, or he raid forder,
The Devill off knychtheid gaif him order ;
For sair syne he did spitt,
And he about the Devillis nek
Did spew agane ane quart of blek,
Thuss knychtly he him quitt

Than fourty tymis the Feynd cryd, Fy !
The sowtar rycht effeiritly
Vnto the feild he socht :
Quhen thay wer serwit of thair speiris,
Ffolk had ane feill be thair effeiris,
Thair hairtis wer baith on flocht.

Thay spurrit thair horss on adir syd,
Syne thay attour the grund cowd glyd,
Than thame togidder brocht ;
The tailȝeour that wes nocht weill sittin,
He left his sadill all beschittin,
And to the grund he socht.

His harnass brak and maid ane brattill,
The sowtaris horss scart with the rattill,
And round about cowd reill;
The beist that frayit wes rycht evill,
Ran with the sowtar to the Devill,
And he rewardit him weill

Sum thing frome him the Feynd eschewit,
He went agane to bene bespewit,
So stern he wes in steill :
He thocht he wald agane debait him,
He turnd his erss and all bedret him,
Evin quyte from nek till heill

He lowsit it of with sic a reird,
Baith horss and man he straik till eird,
He fartit with sic ane feir;
" Now haif I quitt the," quod Mahoun ;
Thir new maid knychtis lay bayth in swoun,
And did all armes mensweir.

The Devill gart thame to dungeoun dryve,
And thame of knychtheid cold depryve,
Dischairgeing thame of weir ;
And maid thame harlottis bayth for evir,
Quhilk still to keip thay had fer levir,
Nor ony armes beir.

I had mair of thair werkis writtin,
Had nocht the sowtar bene beschittin,
With Belliallis erss vnblist ;
Bot that sa gud ane bourd me thocht,
Sic solace to my hairt it rocht,
For lawchtir neir I brist ;

Quhairthrow I walknit of my trance.
To put this in rememberance,
Mycht no man me resist,
Ffor this said justing it befell
Befoir Mahoun, the air of hell :
Now trow thiss gif ȝe list

Heir endis the sowtar and tailȝouris war,
Maid be the nobill poyet Mr William Dumbar.