The Cock and the Jewel

A cok, sumtyme, with feddrame fresche and gay,
Rycht cant and crouse, albeit he wes bot pure,
Flew furth aponc a dounghill son be day;
To get his dyner set wes al his cure:
Scrapand amang the ass, be adventure
He fand a joly jasp, rycht precius,
Wes cassyn out in swoping of the hous.

As damycellis wantone and insolent,
That fayne wald play, and on the streit be sene,
To swoping of the house thay tak na tent
Quhat thairin be swa that the flure be clene;
Jowellis ar tynt, as oftimes hes bene sene,
Apone the fluyr, and swoppit furth anone —
Peraventure, so wes this sammyne stone.

So marvelland apone the stone, quod he,
" O gentill jasp! O rich and nobill thing!
Thocht I the find, thow ganis nocht for me;
Thow art a jowell for a lord or king.
It were pete thow suld in this midding
Be beriit thus, amang this muk and mold,
And thow so fair, and worth so mekill gold.

" It is pete I suld the find, for-quhy
Thi grit vertu, nor yit thi colour cleyr,
I may nather extoll nor magnify,
And thow to me may mak but litil cheir.
Til grit lordis thocht thow be haldyne deir,
I luf far better thing of less avalle,
As draff, or corne, to fill my toum intrall.

" I had lever go scraip here with my nailles
Amang this moll, and luk my liffis fud,
As corne or draff, small wormis or snaillis,
Or ony meit wald do my stomok gud,
Than of jaspis a mekill multitud:
And thow agane, apone the samyne wyse,
May me as now for thyn avail dispice.

" Thow hes na come, and I thar-of have neid;
Thi colour doys bot confort to the sycht
And that is nocht aneuch my wame to feid;
For wyffis sayis, that lukand werk is lycht;
I wald sum meit haf, get it gif I mycht,
For hungry men ma nocht weil leif on lukis:
Had I dry breid, I count nocht of na cukis.

" Quhar suld thow mak thyn habitatioun?
Quhar suld thow dwel, bot in a ryal towr?
Quhar suld thow set bot in a kyngis crown,
Exaltit in wyrschip and in grit honour?
Rys, gentill jasp, of al stanis the flowr.
Out of this fene, and pass quhar thow suld be,
Thow ganys nocht for me, na I for thee."

Leiffand this jowell law apone the ground,
To seik his meit this Cok his wayis went;
Bot quhen, or quhow, or quhome be it wes found,
As now I set to hald na argument;
Bot of the inwart sentens and intent
Of this fabill, as myne autor dois wryt,
I sal rehers in rud and hamelie dyt.

Moralitas

This joly jasp hes properteys sevyne:
The fyrst, of colour it is mervalus,
Pairt lik the fyir, and pairt lik the hevyne:
It makis a man stark and victoryus;
Preservis als fra casis perellus;
Quha has this stane sal haf gud hoip to speid;
Of fyr, and noi hyme neidis nocht to dreid.

This gen till jasp, rycht deferent of hewe,
Betakinis perfyt prudens and cunnyng,
Ornat with mony deidis of vertu,
More excelland than ony erdly thing,
Quhilk makis man in honour ay to ryng,
Happy and stark to hef the victory
Of al vicis and spirituall innemy.

Quha ma be hardy, rych and gracious?
Quha can eschew perell and aventure?
Quha can gouverne ane realme, cite or hous
Without Sciens? Na man, I yow assure.
It is ryches that evir sail enduir.
Quhilk moith, na moist, na othir rowst can freit:
To manis saul it is eternall meit.

This Cok desyrand mare the sempill come
Than ony jasp, may till a fuyll be peir,
Quhilk at sciens makis bot ane mok and scorne,
And na gud can, and als litill will leir;
His hart wamillis wyse argumentis to heir
As dois a sow, to quhome men for the nons
In hir draff-trouch wald saw the precius stons.

Quha is innemy to sciens and cunnyng
Bot ignorantis that understandis nocht?
Quhilk is sa nobill, precius, and sa dyng,
That it may with na erdly gud be bocht?
Weill war that man our al othir, that mocht
Al his lif dayis in perfyt study wayr
To get sciens; for hyme nedis na mare.

Bot now, allace, this Jasp is tynt and hyd:
We seik it nocht, nor press it for to fynd.
Haif we ryches? Na bettir lyfe we byd
Of Sciens, thocht the saul be bair and blynd.
Of this mater to speik it wair bot wynd;
Tharfoir I cese, and wil na forthir say:
Ga seik the Jasp quha wil, for thar it lay.