The Justing and Debait vp at the Drum betuix William Adamsone and Johine Sym

The grit debait and turnament
Off trewth no toung can tell,
Wes for a lusty lady gent,
Betuix twa freikis fell.
For Mars the god armipotent
Wes nocht sa ferss him-sell,
Nor Hercules, that aikkis vprent,
And dang the devill of hell,
With hornis;
Vp at the Drum that day.

Doutles wes nocht so duchty deidis
Amangis the dowsy peiris,
Nor yit no clerk in story reidis
Off sa tryvmphand weiris;
To se so stowtly on thair steidis
Tha stalwart knychtis steiris,
Quhill bellyis bair for brodding bleidis
With spurris als scherp as breiris,
And kene,
Vp at the Drum that day.

Vp at the Drum the day wes sett,
And fixit wes the feild
Quhair baith thir noble chiftanis mett
Enarmit vndir scheild.
Thay wer sa haisty and sa hett
That nane of thame wald yeild,
Bot to debait or be doun bett
And in the quarrell keild
Or slane,
Vp at the Drum that day.

Thair wes ane bettir and ane worss,
I wald that it wer wittin;
For William wichttar wes of corss
Nor Sym, and bettir knittin.
Sym said he sett nocht by his forss,
Bot hecht he sowld be hittin,
And he micht counter Will on horss;
For Sym wes bettir sittin
Nor Will,
Vp at the Drum that day.

To se the stryfe come yunkeirs stowt,
And mony galyart man;
All denteis deir wes thair but dowt,
The wyne on broich it ran.
Trumpettis and schalmis with a schowt
Playid or the rink began,
And eikwall juges satt abowt
To se quha tynt or wan
The feild,
Vp at the Drum that day.

With twa blunt trincher speiris squair
It wes thair interpryiss,
To fecht with baith thair facis bair
For lufe, as is the gyiss.
Ane freynd of thairis throw hap come thair,
And hard the rumor ryiss,
Quha stall away thair styngis baith clair,
And hid in secreit wayiss,
For skaith,
Vp at the Drum that day.

Strang men of armes and of micht
Wer sett thame for to sidder.
The harraldis cryd “God schaw the rycht!”
Syne bad thame go togidder.
“Quhair is my speir?” sayis Sym the knycht;
“Sum man go bring it hidder.”
Bot wald thay tary thair all nycht,
Thair lanciss come to lidder
And slaw,
Vp at the Drum that day.

Syme flew als fery as a fowne;
Doun fra the horss he slaid,
Sayis, “He sall rew my staff hes stowin,
For I sal be his deid.”
William his vow plicht to the powin,
For favour or for feid;
“Als gude the tre had nevir growin,
Quhairof my speir wes maid,
To just!”
Vp at the Drum that day.

Thir vowis maid to syn and mone,
Thay raikit baith to rest,
Thame to refress with thair disione
And of thair armour kest.
Nocht knawing of the deid wes done,
Quhen thay suld haif fairin best,
The fyre wes pischt out lang or none
Thair dennaris suld haif drest
And dicht,
Vp at the Drum that day.

Than wer thay movit owt of mynd
Far mair than of beforne.
Thay wist nocht how to get him pynd
That thame had drevin to skorne.
Thair wes no deth mycht be devynd,
Bot ethis haif thay sworne,
He suld deir by be thay had dynd,
And ban that he wes borne
Or bred;
Vp at the Drum that day.

Than to Dalkeith thai maid thame boun,
Reidwod of this reproche.
Thair wes baith wyne and vennisoun,
And barrellis ran on broche.
Thay band vp kyndness in that toun,
Nane fra his feir to foche;
For thair wes nowdir lad nor loun
Micht eit are baikin loche,
For fowness,
Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Syne eftir denner raiss the din,
And all the toun on steir.
William wes wyiss, and held him in,
For he wes in a feir.
Sym to haif bargan cowld nocht blin,
But bukkit Will on weir;
Sayis, “Gife thow wald this lady win,
Cum furth and brek a speir
With me!”
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.

This still for bargan Sym abyddis,
And schowttit Will to schame.
Will saw his fais on bath the syddis;
Full sair he dred for blame.
Will schortly to his horss he slydis,
And sayis to Sym be name,
“Bettir we bath wer byand hyddis
And weddir skynnis at hame,
Nor heir;”
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.

Now is the growme that wes so grym
Rycht glaid to leif in lie.
“Fy, theif, for schame!” sayis littill Sym,
“Will thow nocht fecht with me?
Thow art moir lerge of lyth and lym
Nor I am, be sic thre.”
And all the feild cryd fy on him,
Sa cowartly tuk the fle
For feir,
Vp at Dalkeyth that day.

Than every man gaif Will a mok,
And said he wes our meik.
Sayis Sym, “Send for thy broder Jok;
I sall nocht be to seik.
For wer ye foursum in a flok,
I compt yow nocht a leik,
Thocht I had rycht nocht bot a rok,
To gar your rumpill reik
Behynd!”
Vp at Dalkeith that day.

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

Sone doun the bra Sym braid 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 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.
Sum cryd the koward suld be keild;
Sum doun the hewche he thrang.
Sum ruscht, sum rummyld, sum reild;
Sum be the bewche he hang.
Thair avairis fyld vp all the feild,
Thay wer so fow and pang
With drafe,
Vp at Dalkeith that day.

Than gelly Johine come in a jak
To feild quhair he wes feidit,
Abone his brand ane bucklar blak,
Baill fell the bern that bedit.
He slippit swiftly to the slak,
And rudly doun he raid it.
Befoir his curpall 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
Thay passid every ane;
Syne pairtit at the Potter raw,
And sindry gaitis 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 scho fell fow he fled away,
And come na mair hir till:
Quhairfoir he tynt the feild that day,
And tuk him to ane mill,
To hyd him,
As coward fals of fey.