Book IV

In Rauchryne leve we now the King
In rest, for-owtyn barganying;
And off his fayis a quhile spek we,
That, throw thar mycht and thar powste,
Maid sic a persecucioune,
Sa hard, sa strayt, and sa feloune,
On thaim that till hym luffand wer,
Or kyn, or freynd on ony maner;
That it till her is gret pite.
For thai sparyt, off na degre,
Thaim that thai trowit his freynd wer,
Nothir off the kyrk, na seculer.
For off Glaskow byschop Robert,
And Marcus off Man thai stythly speryt,
Bath in fetrys and in presoune.
And worthy Crystoll off Seytoun
In-to Lochdon betresyt was,
Throw a discipill off Judas.
Maknab, a fals tratour, that ay
Wes off his duelling, nycht and day;
Quhom-to he maid gud cumpany.
It wes fer wer than tratoury
For to betreys sic a persoune,
So nobill, and off sic renoune.
Bot thar-off had he na pite:
In hell condampnyt mot he be!
For quhen he him betrasyt had,
The Inglis men rycht with him rad
In hy, in Ingland, to the King,
That gert draw hym, and hede, and hing,
For-owtyn pete, or mercy.
It wes gret sorow sekyrly,
That so worthy persoune as he
Suld on sic maner hangyt be.
Thusgate endyt his worthynes.
And off Crauford als Schyr Ranald wes.
And Schyr Bruce als the Blar,
Hangyt in-till a berne in Ar.

The Queyn, and als dame Marjory,
Hyr dochtyr that syne worthily
Wes coupillyt in-to Goddis band
With Walter, Stewart off Scotland;
That wald on na wys langar ly
In the castell off Kyldromy,
To byd a sege, ar ridin raith
With knychtis and with squyeris bath,
Throw Ros, rycht to the gyrth off Tayne.
Bot that travaill thai maid in vayne;
For thai off Ros, that wald nocht ber
For thaim na blayme, na yheit danger,
Owt off the gyrth thame all has tayne;
And syne has send thaim evirilkane
Rycht in-till Ingland, to the King,
That gert draw all the men, and hing;
And put the ladyis in presoune,
Sum in-till castell, sum in dongeoun.
It wes gret pite for till heir
Folk till be troublyt on this maneir.

That tyme wes in-to Kyldromy,
With men, that wycht war and hardy,
Schyr Neile the Bruce: and I wate weile
That thar the Erle wes off Adheill.
The castell weill victalyt thai,
And mete and fuell gan purvay;
And inforsit the castell sua,
That thaim thocht na strenth mycht it ta.
And quhen that it the King wes tald
Off Ingland, how thai schup to hald
That castell, he wes all angry;
And callit his sone till hym in hy,
The eldest and apperande air,
A yhoung bachiller, stark and fair,
Schyr Edward callit off Carnavirnane,
That wes the starkest man off ane
That men fynd mycht in ony cuntre;
Prynce off Walys that tym wes he.
And he gert als call erlis twa,
Glowsister and Herfurd war thai;
And bad thame wend in-to Scotland
And set a sege, with stalward hand,
To the castell of Kildromy.
And all the haldaris halely
He bad distroy, without ransoun,
Or bring thame till him in presoune.

Quhen thai the mandment all had tane,
Thai assemblit ane ost on-ane,
And to the castell went in hy,
And it assegyt vigorusly;
And mony tyme full hard assalit;
Bot for to tak it yheit thame falit.
For thai within war rycht worthy,
And thame defendit douchtely;
And ruschit thair fayis oft agayne;
Sum best woundit, and sum wes slayne.
And mony tymes ysche thai wald,
And bargane at the barras hald;
And wound thair fayis oft and sla.
Schortly thai thaim contenyt swa,
That thai without disparit war,
And thoucht till Ingland for to far;
For thai sa stith saw the casteill,
And wist that it wes warnist weill;
And saw the men defend thame swa,
That thai na hop had thame to ta.

Nane had thai done all that sesoune,
Gyff na had beyn thair fals tresoune.
For thar within wes a tratour,
A fals lurdane, ane losengeour,
Osbarn to name, maid the tresoun,
I wate nocht for quhat enchesoun,
Na quham-with he maid that covyne:
Bot as thai said, that war thar-in,
He tuk a culter hat glowand,
That het wes in a fyre byrnand,
And went in-to the mekill hall,
That than with corne wes fillit all,
And heych up on a mow it did,
Bot it full lang wes thar nocht hyd.
For men sais oft that fyr, na pryd,
But discovering may na man hyd.
For the pomp oft the prid furth shawis,
Or ellis the gret bost that it blawis.
Na mar may na man fyr sa covyr,
Than low or rek sall it discovyr.
So fell it heir, for fyre all cleir
Soyn throu the thik burd can appeir,
Ferst as a sterne, syne as a moyne,
And weill bradar thar-efter soyn
The fyre out syne in blasis brast;
And the reik rais rycht wounder fast.
The fyre our all the castell spred,
Thar mycht no fors of men it red.
Than thai within drew till the wall,
That at that tym wes battalit all
Within, rycht as it wes with-out.
That battalyng, withouten dout,
Saffit thair liffis, for it brak
Blesis that wald thame ourtak.
And quhen thair fayis the myscheiff saw,
Till armys went thai in a thraw;
And assalit the castell fast,
Quhar thai durst come for fyris blast,
Bot thai, within that myster had,
Sa gret defens ande worthy maid,
That thai full oft thair fayis ruschit,
For thai nakyn peralis refusit.
Thai travaill for to sauf thair lifis:
Bot werd, that to the end ay driffis
The warldis thingis, sua thame travalit,
That thai on twa halfis war assalit.
Within with fyr, that thame sa brulyheit;
Without with folk, that thaim sa tulyheit,
That thai brynt magre thairis the yhet,
Bot for the fyre, that wes so het,
Thai durst nocht enter swa in hy.
Thar folk thar-for thai can rely,
And went to rest, for it wes nycht;
Till on the morn that day wes lycht.

At sic myscheiff, as yhe herd say,
War thai within; the-quhethir thai
Evir thame defendit worthely,
And thame contenit sa manfully,
That thai or day, throu mekill pane,
Had muryt up the yhet agane.
Bot on the morn, quhen day wes lycht,
And sone wes ryssyn schynand brycht,
Thai without in hale battale,
Com purvait, reddy till assale.
Bot thai within, that sa war stad,
That na wittaill na fuaill had,
Quhar-with thai mycht the castell hald,
Tretit ferst, and syne thame yhald
To be in-to the Kyngis will,
That than to Scottis wes full ill;
As soyn efter wes weill knawin,
For thai war hangit all and drawin.

Quhen this cunnand thus tretit wes,
And affermit with sekirnes,
Thai tuk thaim of the castell soyn.
And in till schort tyme has swa done,
That all a quarter off Snawdoune,
Rycht to the erd, thai tumlit doune.
Syne toward Ingland wend thar way.
Bot quhen the King Edward herd say
How Neyll the Bruce held Kildrummy
Agane his sone sa stallwardly;
He gaderit a gret chevelry,
And toward Scotland went in hy.

And as in-to Northumbirland
He wes, with his gret rowt, rydand,
A seiknes tuk him in the way;
And put him in sa hard assay,
That he mycht nouthir gang no ryde.
Him worthit, magre his, abyde
In-till ane hamelat neir thair-by,
A litill toune, and unworthy.
With gret payn thiddir thai hym brocht;
He wes sa stad that he na mocht
Hys aynd bot with gret panys draw;
Na spek bot gif it war weill law.
The-quethir he bad thai suld him say
Quhat toune wes that, that he in lay.
“Schir,” thai said, “Bowrch-in-the-Sand
“Men callis this toune, in-to this land.”
‘Call thai it Burch? Allace!’ said he,
‘My hope is now fordone to me.
‘For I wend nevir to thole the payn
‘Of dede, quhill I, throu mekyll mayn,
‘The Burch of Jerusalem had tane;
‘My lif wend I thair suld be gane.
‘In Burch I wist weill I suld de:
‘Bot I was nouthir wis, no sle,
‘Till othir burchis kepe to ta.
‘Now may I no wis forthir ga.’
Thus plenyheit he off his folye;
As he had mater sekirly,
Quhen he wend to wit certante
Of that at nane may certane be.

The-quhethir, men said enclosit he had
Ane spirit, that hym ansuer mad
Of thingis that he wald inqueir.
Bot he wes fule, forouten weir,
That gaf treuth to that creature.
For fendis ar of sic nature,
That thai to mankynd has invy;
For thai wat weill and wittirly,
That thai that weill ar liffand heir
Sall wyn the segis, quhar-of thai weir
Tumlit doune throu thair mekill pryde.
Quharfor oftymis will betyde.
That quhen fendis distrenyheit ar
For till apper and mak answar,
Throu force of conjuracioune,
That thai sa fals ar and felloune,
That thai mak ay thair ansuering,
In-till dowbill undirstanding,
Till dissaf thame that will thame trow.
Ensampill will I set heir now
Of a were, as I herde tell,
Betuix France and the Flemynnis fell.

The Erll Ferrandis moder was
Ane nygramansour; and Sathanas
Scho rasit; and him askit syne,
Quhat suld worth off the fichtyne
Betuix the Franch king and hir sone.
And he, as he all tyme wes wone,
In-to dissat maid his ansuer;
And said to hir thir versis heir.

Rex ruet in bello tumulique carebit honore
Ferrandus, comitissa, tuus, mea cara Minerva,
Parisius veniet, magna comitante caterva.
This wes the spek he maid, perfay;
And is in Inglis for to say;
“The king sall fall in the fichting,
“And sall fale honor of erding;
“And thi Ferrand, Mynerff my deir,
“Sall rycht to Paris went, but weir;
“Followand him gret cumpany
“Of nobill men and of worthy.”
This is the sentens off the saw,
That he in Latyne can hir schaw.
He callit hir his deir Mynerfe,
For Mynerfe ay wes wont to serfe
Him fullely at his devis.
And for scho maid the samyn service,
His Minerf hir callit he:
And als, throu his gret sutelte,
He callit hir deir, hir till dissaf,
That scho the titar suld consaf
Of his spek the undirstanding,
That plesit mast to hir liking.

His doubill spek hir sua dissavit,
That throu hir feill the ded resavit;
For scho was of his ansuer blith,
And till hir sone scho tald it swith;
And bad him till the battale spede,
For he suld victor haf but drede.
And he, that herd hir sermonyng,
Sped hym in hy to the fichting;
Quhar he discumfit wes and schent,
And takyn, and to Paris sent.
Bot in the fechting nocht-for-thi
The kyng, throu his chevelry,
Wes laid at erd, and lamyt bath,
Bot his men horsit hym weill rath.
And quhen Ferrandis moder herd
How hir sone in the battale ferd,
And that he swa wes discumfit,
Scho rasit the evill spirit als tit:
And askit quhy he gabbit had
Of the ansuer that he hir mad.
And he said that he suth said all;
“I said the that the kyng suld fall
“In the battale, and sua did he;
“And falys erding, as men may se.
“And I said that thi sone suld ga
“To Paris, and he did he rycht sua;
“Followand him sic a mengyhe,
“That nevir, in his lif-tyme, he
“Had sic mengyhe at his leding.
“Now seis thow I maid na gabbing.”
The wif confusit wes, perfay,
And durst no mair on-till him say.

Thusgat, throu doubill undirstanding,
That bargane come to sic ending,
That the ta part dissavit was:
Richt sua-gat fell it in this cas:
At Jerusalem thus trowit he
Gravyn in the burch to be;
The-quethir at Burch in-to the Sand
He suelt rycht in his awne land.
And quhen he to the ded wes ner,
The folk, that at Kyldrummy wer,
Com with the presoners at thai had tane,
And syne unto the Kyng ar gane.
And for to confort him thai tald
How thai the castell to thame yhald;
And how thai to his will war brocht,
Till do of thame quhat-evir he thocht;
And askit quhat thai suld of thaim do.
Than lukit he angyrly thame to,
And said gyrnand, “Hangis and drawis.”
It wes gret wounder of sic sawis;
That he, that to the ded wes neir,
Suld ansuer apon sic maneir
Forouten menyng of mercy,
How mycht he trastly on hym cry,
That suthfastly demys all thing
To haf mercy for his crying
Of him that, throu his felony,
In-to sic poynt had no mercy?
His men his mandment has all done:
And he deit thar-eftir sone;
And syne wes brocht till berynes:
His son syne eftir kyng he wes.

To Kyng Robert agane ga we,
That in Rauchryne, with his menyhe,
Lay till the wyntir neir wes gane,
And of that ile his met has tane.
James of Douglas wes angry
That thai so lang suld ydill ly;
And to Schir Robert Boyd said he;
“The pouir folk of this countre
“Ar chargit apon gret maner
“Of us, that ydill lyis her.
“And I heir say that in Arane,
“Intill a stith castell of stane,
“Ar Inglis men that with strang hand
“Haldis the lordschip of the land.
“Ga we thiddir; and weill may fall,
“Anoy thame in sum thing we sall.”
Schir Robert said, “I grant thar-till.
‘To ly heir mair war litill skill:
‘Tharfor till Arane pass will we,
‘For I knaw rycht weill that cuntre.
‘And the castell alsua knaw I.
‘We sall come thair sa prevely,
‘That thai sall haff na persavyng,
‘Na yheit witting of our cummyng.
‘And we sall neir enbuschit be,
‘Quhar we thair out-cummyng may se.
‘Sa sall it on na maner fall,
‘Than scath thame on sum wis we sall.’

With that thai buskit thame on-ane:
And at the Kyng thair leyf has tane,
And went thaim furth syne on thair way.
In-to Kentyre soyn cumin ar thai:
Syne rowit all-wayis by the land,
Till at the nycht wes neir at hand;
Than till Arane thai went thair way,
And saufly thair arivit thai.
And under ane bra thair galay dreuch,
And syne it helit weill ineuch;
Thair takill, ayris, and thair stere,
Thai hyde all on the samyn maner:
And held thair way rycht in the nycht,
Sa that, or day wes dawyn lycht,
Thai war enbuschit the castell neir,
Arayit on the best maneir.
And thouch thai wate war and wery,
And for lang fastyng all hungry,
Thai thoucht to hald thame all preve,
Till that thai weill thair poynt mycht se.

Schir John the Hastyngis, at that tyde,
With knychtis of full mekyll pryde,
And squyaris and gude yhemanry,
That war a weill gret cumpany,
Wes in the castell of Brathwik.
And oftsis, quhen it wald him lik,
He went to hunt with his menyhe
And sua the land abandonit he,
That nane durst warn to do his will.
He wes in-to the castell still,
The tym that James of Douglas,
As I haf tald, enbuschit was.
Sa hapnyt at that tyme, throu chans,
With vittalis and ek purvians,
And with clething, and with armyng,
The day befor, in the evynnyng,
The undirwardane arivit was,
With thre batis, weill neir the place
Quhar that the folk I spak off ar
Prevely enbuschit war.
Soyn fra the batis saw thai ga
Of Inglis men thretty and ma,
Chargit all with syndry thing,
Sum bare wyne, and sum armyng:
The remanand all chargit were
With thingis on syndry manere:
And othir syndry yheid thame by,
As thai war masteris, ydilly.
Thai that enbuschit war thame saw,
Ande, for-outen dreid or aw,
Thair buschement apon thame thai brak,
And slew all that thai mycht ourtak.
The cry rais hydwisly and hee:
For thai, that dredand war to de,
Rycht as bestis can rair and cry,
Thai slew thaim for-outen mercy;
Swa that, in-to the samyn sted,
Weill neir to fourty thar war ded.

Quhen thai, that in the castell war,
Herd the folk sa cry and rair,
Thai yschit furth to the fechtyng;
Bot quhen Douglas saw thar cummyng,
His men till hym he can rely,
And went till meit thame hastely.
And quhen thai of the castell saw
Hym cum on thaim forouten aw,
Thai fled forouten mair debate;
And thai thame followit to the yhate,
And slew of thame, as thai in past.
Bot thai thair yhet barrit so fast,
At thai mycht do at thame no mair:
Tharfor thai left thame ilkane thair,
And turnit to the see agane,
Quhar that the men war forrow slane.
And quhen thai that war in the batis
Saw thair cummyng, and wist how-gatis
Thai had discumfit thair menyhe,
In hy thai put thame to the se,
And rowit fast with all thare mayn.
Bot the wynde wes thame agayn,
That it gert sa the land-brist rys,
That thai mycht weld the se na wis.
Na thai durst nocht cum to the land,
Bot hald thame thair so lang hobland,
That of thre batis drownyt twa,
And quhen Dowglas saw it wes swa,
He tuk the armyng, and cleything,
Vittalis, wyne, and othir thing
At thai fand thar; and held thair way
Rycht glad and joyfull of thair pray.

On this wis James of Douglas,
And hys menyhe, throu Goddis grace,
War weill releyit with armying,
With vittale als and with clething;
Syne till a strenth thai held thair way,
And thame full manly governit thai;
Till on the tend day at the King,
With all that war in his ledyng,
Arivit in-to that cuntre,
With thretty small galais and thre.
The King arivit in Arane;
And syne to the land is gane,
And in a toune tuk his herbery:
And sperit syne full specialy,
Giff ony man couth tell tithand
Of ony strange men in that land.
“Yhai,” said a woman, “Schir, perfay,
“Of strange men I can yhow say,
“That ar cumin in this cuntre,
“And schort quhile sen, throu thare bounte,
“Thai haff discumfit our wardane,
“And mony of his folk has slane.
“In-till a stalward place heir-by
“Reparis all thair cumpany.”
‘Dame,’ said the King, ‘wald thou me wis
‘To that place quhar thair repair is,
‘I sall reward the but lesing,
‘For thai ar all of my duelling;
‘And I richt blithly wald thame se,
‘And richt sua trow I thai wald me.’
“Yhis,” said scho, “Schir, I will blithly
“Ga with yhow and yhour cumpany,
“Till that I schaw yhow thair repair.”
‘That is eneuch, my sister fair;
‘Now ga furthwardis,’ said the Kyng.
Than went thai furth but mair letting,
Followand hir as scho thame led,
Till at the last scho schewit a sted
Till the King, in a woddy glen,
And said; “Schir, heir I saw the men,
“That yhe speir eftir, mak luging:
“Heir trow I be thair reparyng.”

The King than blew his horn in hy;
And gert the men, that war him by,
Hald thaim still, and all prive;
And syne agane his horn blew he.
James of Dowglas herd him blaw,
And he the blast all soyn can knaw;
And said, “Suthly yhon is the Kyng:
“I knaw lang quhill syne his blawyng.”
The thrid tym thar-with-all he blew,
And than Schir Robert Boyde it knew,
And said, “Yhon is the King, but dreid;
“Ga we furth till hym bettir speid.”
Than went thai till the King in hy,
And him salusit full curtasly;
And blithly welcumit thame the Kyng,
That joyfull wes of thair meting,
And kyssit thame, and sperit syne
How thai had farn in thair huntyne.
And thai hym tald all but lesyng:
Syne lovit thai God of thair meting.
Syne with the Kyng to his herbry
Thai wend, bath joyfull ande joly.

The King apon the tothir day
Can till his preve menyhe say;
“Yhe knaw all weill, and wele may se,
“How we ar out of our cuntre
“Banyst, throu Inglis mennys mycht;
“And that, that ouris suld be of richt,
“Throu thair mastrice thai occupy;
“And wald alsua, without mercy,
“Gif thai had mycht, distroy us all.
“Bot God forbeid that it suld fall
“Till us, as thai mak mannasyng!
“For than war thair na recoveryng.
“And mankynd biddis us that we
“To procur vengeans besy be.
“For yhe may se we haf thre thingis
“That makis us amonestyngis
“For to be worthy, wis, and wicht,
“And till anoy thame at our mycht.
“Ane is our liffis savite,
“That suld on na wis savit be,
“Gif thai had us at thair liking.
“The tothir that makis us egging,
“Is that thai our possessioune
“Haldis with strinth agane resoune.
“The thrid is the joy that we abyde,
“Gif that it hapyn, as weill may tyde,
“That we haf victor and mastry
“Till ourcum thair felony.
“Tharfor we suld our hertis rais,
“Sua that na myscheif us abais;
“And schape all-wayis to that ending
“That beris mensk and ek lovyng.
“And tharfor, lordis, gif yhe se
“Emang yhow that it spedfull be,
“I will send a man to Carrik,
“To spy and speir how the kynrik,
“Is led, or quha is frend or fa.
“And gif he seis we land may ta,
“On Turnberys snuke he may
“Mak a fyre, on a certane day,
“And mak taknyng till us, that we
“May thair ariffe in-to saufte.
“And gif he seis we may nocht swa;
“Luk on na wis the fyre he ma.
“Swa may we thar throw haff wittering
“Of our passage, or our duelling.”

To this spek all assentit ar.
And than the King, withouten mair,
Callit till him ane that wes preve,
And born of Carrik his cuntre:
And chargit him, in les and mare,
As yhe herd me devis it are;
And set him certane day to may
The fyr, gif he saw it wes sway
That thai had possibilite
To manteme were in that cuntre.
And he, that wes richt weill in will
His lordis yharnyng to fulfill,
As he that worthy wes and leill,
And couth secretis rycht weill conceil,
Said, he wes boune in-till all thing
For till fullfill his commaunding:
And said he suld do sa wisly,
That na repreif suld eftir ly,
Syne at the King his leif has tane;
And furth apon his way is gane.

Now gais the messinger his way,
That hat Cutbert, as I herd say.
In Carrik soyn arivit he,
And passit throu all the cuntre.
Bot he fand few thair-in, perfay,
That gud wald of his mastir say.
For feill of thame durst nocht for dreid,
And othir-sum rycht in-to ded
War fais to the nobill Kyng,
That rewit syne thair barganyng.
Bath hye and law, the land wes then
All occupyit with Inglis men;
That dyspitit, atour all thing,
Robert the Bruce the douchty Kyng.
Carrik wes gevyn than halely
To Sir Henry the lord Persy;
That in Turnberyis castell then
Wes, with weill neir thre hundreth men;
And dantit suagat all the land,
That all wes till hym obeysand.
This Cutbert saw thair felony,
And saw the folk sa halely
Be worthyn Inglis, rich and pure,
That he to nane durst hym discure.
Bot thoucht to leif the fyre unmaid,
Syne till his mastir to wend but baid,
And all thair covyne till hym tell,
That wes sa angry and sa fell.

The Kyng, that in-to Arane lay,
Quhen that cumin wes the day,
That he set till his messyngere,
As I devisit yhow lang ere,
Eftir the fyre he lukit fast;
And als soyn as the moyn wes past,
Hym thoucht weill that he saw a fyre,
By Turnbery byrnand weill schyre;
And till his menyhe can it schaw:
Ilk man thoucht weill that he it saw.
Than with blith hert the folk can cry;
“Gud king, speid yhow deliverly;
“Swa that we soyn in the evynnyng
“Arif, withouten persavyng.”
‘I grant,’ said he, ‘now mak yhow yhair.
‘God furthir us in-till our fair!’

Than in schort tym men mycht thaim se
Schute all thair galais to the se,
Ande beir to se bath ayr and steir,
And othir thyngis that mystir weir.

And as the King apon the land
Wes gangand up and doun, bydand
Till that his menyhe reddy war,
His hostes come rycht till hym thar.
And quhen that scho him halsit had,
A preve spek till hym scho mad,
And said, “Ta gude tent to my saw:
“For or yhe pas I sall yhow schaw
“Of yhour fortoun a gret party.
“And atour all thing specialy
“A wittering heir I sall yhow may,
“Quhat end that your purpos sall ta.
“For in this warld is nane trewly
“Wat thingis to cum sa weill as I.
“Yhe pas now furth on yhour viage,
“To venge the harme and the outrage
“That Inglis men has to yhow done;
“Bot yhe wat nocht quhat-kyn forton
“Yhe mon dre in yhour warraying.
“Bot wit yhe weill, without lesing,
“That fra yhe now haf takyn land,
“Thair sal no micht, no strinth of hand,
“Ger yhow furth pas of this cuntre
“Quhill all to yhow abandonyt be.
“Within schort tym yhe sall be king,
“And haf the land at yhour liking,
“And ourcum yhour fayis all;
“Bot feill anoyis thoill yhe sall,
“Or that yhour purpos ende haf tane;
“Bot yhe sall thame ourdriff ilkane.
“And, that yhe trow this sekirly,
“My twa sonnys with yhow sall I
“Send to tak with yhow yhour travell;
“For I wat weill thai sall nocht fale
“Till be rewardit weill at rycht,
“Quhen yhe ar heyt on to yhour hicht.”

The Kyng, that herd all hir carpyng,
Than thankit hir in mekill thing;
For scho confortit hym sumdeill:
The-quhethir he trowit nocht full weill
Hir spek, for he had gret ferly
How scho suld wit it sekirly:
As it wes wounderfull, perfay,
How ony man throu steris may
Knaw the thingis that ar to cum
Determinabilly, all or sum,
Bot gif that he enspirit war
Of him, that all thing evirmar
Seis in his presciens,
As it war ay in his presens:
As David wes, and Jeromy,
Samuell, Joell, and Ysay,
That throu his haly grace can tell
Feill thingis that eftirward befell.
Bot thai prophetis so thyn ar sawin,
That nane in erd now is knawin.
Bot feill folk ar sa curious,
And to wit thingis sa covatous,
That thai, throu thair gret clergy,
Or ellis throu thair devilry,
On thir twyn maners makis fanding
Of thingis to cum to haf knawing.
Ane of thame is astrology,
Quhar-throu clerkis, that ar witty,
May knaw conjunctione of planetis,
And quhethir that thair cours thaim settis
In soft segis, or in angry;
And of the hevyn all halely
How that the disposicioune
Suld apon thingis wirk heir doune,
On regiones, or on climatis,
That wirkis nocht ay-quhar a-gatis,
Bot sum ar les, sum othir mair,
Eftir as thair bemys strekit air,
Owthir all evin, or on wry.
Bot me think it war gret mastry
Till ony astrolog to say
This sall fall heir, and on this day.
For thouch a man his liff haly
Studeit swa in astrology,
That on the sternis his hed he brak,
Wis men sais he suld nocht mak,
His liftyme, certane domys thre;
And yheit suld he ay dout quhill he
Saw how that it com till ending:
Than is thar na certane demyng.
Or gif thai men that will study
In the craft of astrology,
Knaw all mennis nacioune,
And als the constillacioune
That kyndly maneris giffis thaim til,
For till inclyne to gud or ill;
How that thai throu craft of clergy,
Or throu slicht of astrology,
Couth tell quhatkyn perell apperis
To thame that haldis kyndly maneris;
I trow that thai suld faill to say
The thingis that thame happyn may.
For quhethir sa men inclynit be
Till vertu or to mavite,
He may richt weill refrenyhe his will,
Outhir throu nurtour or throu skill,
And to the contrar turne him all.
And men has mony tymis seyn fall,
That men, kyndly to ivill giffin,
Throu thair gret wit away has drivin
Thair evill, and worthyn of gret renoune,
Magre the constillacioune.
As Arestotill, gif, as men redis,
He had followit his kyndly dedis,
He had beyn fals and covatous;
Bot his wit maid him virtuous.
And syn men may on this kyn wis
Wirk agane that cours, that is
Principal caus of thair demyng,
Me think thair dome na certane thing.
Nigramansy ane othir is,
That kennys men on syndry wis,
Throw stalward conjuraciones,
And throw exorcizaciones,
To ger spiritis to thame apeir,
And gif ansuer on seir maneir.
As quhilom did the Phitones,
That, quhen Saull abasit wes
Of the Philistianis mycht,
Rasit, throu hyr mekill slycht,
Samuelis sperit als tit,
Or in his sted the evill spirit,
That gaf rycht graith ansueir hir to.
Bot of hir-self rycht nocht wist scho.
And man is in-to dreding ay
Of thingis that he has herd say,
And namly of thingis to cum, quhill he
Have of the end the certante.
And sen thai ar in sic wenyng,
Fourouten certane witting,
Me think, quha sayis he knawis thingis
To cum, he makis gret gabbingis.
Bot quhethir scho that tald the King
How his purpos suld tak ending,
Wenit, or wist it witterly;
It fell eftir all halely
As scho said: for syne king wes he,
And of full mekill renomme.