The Thrid Buke

AND IN THE FIRST, MAKAND NARRATIONE OF THE MISERABILL DISTRUCTIOUN OF THE FYVE CIETIES CALLIT SODOME, GOMORRE, SEBOIM, SEGORE, AND ADAMA, ETC.

COURTEOUR.
Father, I pray yow, to me tell
Quhat notabyll thyngis that befell
Duryng the ryng of Assyriens,
Quhilk had so lang prehemynens ;
I mene of uther Nationis
Under thare dominationis.

EXPERIENCE.
That may be done in termys schorte,
Said he, as storyis doith reporte :
Induryng this First Monarchie
Become that wofull miserie
Of Sodome, Gomorre, and thare regione,
As Scripture makis mentione ;
Quhose peple wer so sensuall
In fylthie synnis unnaturall,
The quhilk in to my vulgar veirs
My toung abhorris to reheirs :
Lyke brutall beistis, by thare myndis,
Unnaturally abusit thare kyndis
By fylthie stynkand lychorie,
And most abhominabyll sodomie.
As holy Scripture doith discryve,
In that countrie wer Cieteis fyve,
Quhilk wer Sodome, and Gomorra,
Seboim, Segore, and Adama :
Amang thame all funde wes thare none
Undefylit, bot Lott allone.
Holy Abraham dwelt neir hand by,
Quhilk prayit for Lott effectuously :
For God maid hym advertysment,
That he wald mak sic punyschement.
To Lott two Angellis God did sende,
Hym frome that furye tyll defende.
Quhen the peple of that regioun
Saw the Angellis cum to toun,
Transformit in to fair young men,
Thay purposit thame for to ken,
And abuse thame unnaturallye
With thare foule stynkand sodomye.
Of that gude Lott wes wounder woo,
And offerit thame his douchteris twoo,
Thame at thare plesour for tyll use :
Bot thay his douchteris did refuse.
And than the Angellis, be thare mycht,
Those men depryvit of thare sycht ;
And so, perfors, leit thame allone.
To Lottis lugyng quhen thay wer gone,
Thay hym commandit haistelie
For tyll depart of that Cietie.
That foule unnaturall lychorie
A vengeance to the Hevin did crye ;
The quhilk did mufe God tyll sic yre,
That frome the Hevin brintstone and fyre,
With awfull thoundryng, ranit doun,
And did consume that hole regioun.
Of all that land chapit no mo
Except Lott and his douchteris two :
His wyfe wes turnit in a stone,
So wyfeless wes he left allone,
For scho wes inobedient,
And kepit no commandement.
Quhen the Angell gif thame command
Sone tyll depart out of that land,
He monyste thame, under gret pane,
Never to luke bakwart agane.
Quhen Lottis wyfe hard the thoundring
Of flammand fyre and lychtnyng,
The ugly cryis lamentabyll
Of peple most espoventabyll,
For none of thame had fors to flee,
Scho yarnit that sorrowfull sycht to see ;
And, as scho turnit hir, anone
Scho wes transformit in a stone ;
Quhare scho remanis tyll this daye,
Of hir I have no more to saye.
To schaw at leynth I am nocht abyll
That pietuous proces lamentabyll,
Quhow cieteis, castellis, tounis, and towris,
Villagis, bastailyeis, and bowris,
Thay wer all into poulder drevin ;
Forrestis be the ruttis uprevin ;
Thare Kyng, thare Quene, and peple all,
Yong and auld, brynt in poulder small :
No creature wes left in lyfe,
Foulis, beistis, man, nor wyfe ;
The erth, the corne, herb, frute and tre,
The babbis upone the noryse kne,
Rycht suddantlye, in one instant,
Unwerly come thare jugement ;
As it come in the tyme of Noye,
Quhen God did all the warld distroye ;
For that self syn of sodomye,
And most abhominabyll bewgrye :
That vyce at lenth for tyll declare
I thynk it is nocht necessare.
Quhen all wes brynt, flesche, blud, and bonis,
Hyllis, valais, stokis, and stonis,
The cuntre sank, for to conclude,
Quhare now standith ane uglye flude,
The quhilk is callit the Dede See,
Nixt to the cuntre of Judee,
Quhose stynkand strandis, blak as tar,
The flewre of it men felith on far.
In tyll Orosius thow may reid
Of that countre the lenth and breid ;
Of lenth, fyftye mylis and two,
And fourtene myle in breid also.
Lott of his Wyfe wes so agast
That he tyll a wyld montane past :
Of cumpanye he had no mo
Except his lustye douchteris two ;
And, be thare provocatioun,
As Moyses makith narratioun,
Allone in to that montane wylde,
His douchteris boith he gat with chylde.
For thay belevit, in thare thocht,
That all the warld wes gone to nocht,
As it become of that Natioun ;
Thynkand that generatioun
Wald faill, withoute thay craftellye
Gar thare Father with thame to lye :
And so thay fand ane craftye wyle,
Quhow thay thare Father mycht begyle,
And causit hym to drynk wycht wyne,
Quhilk men to lychorye doith inclyne.
Quhen he wes full, and fallin on sleip,
His douchteris quyetlye did creip
In tyll his bed, full secreitlye,
Provokand hym with thame to lye :
And knew nocht quhow he wes begylde,
Tyll boith his douchteris wer with chylde :
And bure two sonnis, in certane,
Thay beand in that wyld montane,
Of quhome two Nationis did proceid,
As in the Scripture thow may reid ;
In the quhilk Scripture thow may se
At lenth this wofull miserie.
This miserie become, but weir,
From Noyis flude thre hundreth yeir,
Togidder with four score and alevin,
As comptit Carione, full evin
And efter Noyis deith, I ges,
Ane and fourtye yeir thare wes ;
Quhen Abraham was of aige, I wene,
Foure score of yeris and nyntene :
Quhen this foule syn of sodomye
Was puneisit so regorouslye.
Gret God preserve us, in our tyme,
That we commit nocht sic ane cryme.
Teddious it wer for me to tell,
This Monarchie duryng, quhat befell,
And wounderis that in erth wer wrocht,
Quhilk to thy purpose langith nocht :
As quhow the peple of Israell,
Did lang tyme in to Egypt dwell ;
And of thare gret puneisioun,
Throuch Pharois persecutioun ;
And quhow Moyses did thame convoye
Throuch the Reid Sey, with mekle joye,
Quhare kyng Pharo, rycht misarably,
' Wes drownit with all his huge army ;
And quhow that peple wanderand wes
Fourtye yeris in wyldernes :
Moyses, that tyme, as I heir saye,
Ressavit the Law on Mont Sinay ;
That tyme, Josue throuch Jordan
Led those peple to Canaan ;
Quhare Saule, David, and Salamone,
With Hebrew kyngis mony one,
Did rychelye ryng in that countre,
Induryng this First Monarchie.
The Sege of Thebes, miserabyll.
Quhare blude wes sched incomparabyll
Of nobyll men, in to those dayis,
With utheris terribyll affrayis :
As quhow the Grekis wrocht vengeance
Apone the nobyll Troyiance,
Because that Pareis did convoye,
Perfors, fair Helena to Troye,
Quhilk wes king Menelaus wyfe,
Quhare mony one thousand lost thare lyfe.
That tyme, the valyeant Hercules
Out throuch the warld did hym addres,
Quhare he did mony ane douchtye deid,
As in his storye thow may reid ;
And quhow, throuch Dyonere, his wyfe,
That campione did lose his lyfe :
In flammand fyre full furiouslye
The deith he sufferit creuellye.
That tyme Remus and Romulus
Did found that Cietie most famous
Of Rome, standing in Italie,
As in thare storye thow may se.
Wald thow reid Titus Levius,
Thow suld fynd warkis wounderus ;
Quhose douchtye deidis ar weill kende,
And salbe to the warldis ende ;
Thocht thay began with creueltie,
And endit with miseritie :
As bene the maner, to conclude,
Of all scheddaris of saikles blude.
In Grece the ornat Poetry,
Medecene, Musike, Astronomy.
Duryng this First Monarchie began ;
Be Homerus, that famous man,
Togydder with Hesiodus,
As divers Auctouris schawis us :
It wer to lang to put in ryme
The bukis quhilk thay wret in thare tyme.
Thir wer the actis principall,
That Monarchye duryng, quhilk befell.
As for gude Abraham and his seid,
In to the Bibyll thow may reid
Quhow, in this tyme, as I heir tell
Began the Kyngdome Spirituall,
As I have schawin to thee affore ;
Quharefor I speik of thame no more.

ANE SCHORT DISCRIPTIOUN OF THE SECUND, THRID, AND FERD MONARCHIE.

COURTEOUR.
Father, said I, quhilk wes the man
That the nyxt Monarchye began !

EXPERIENCE.
Cyrus, said he, the Kyng of Pers,
As Cronicles hes done rehers,
Prudent, and full of pollicye,
Began the secunde Monarchye ;
For he wes the most godly kyng
That ever in Pers or Mede did ryng ;
For he, of his benygnitie,
Delyverit frome captyvitie
The hole peple of Israell,
In to the tyme of Daniell,
The quhilkis had bene presoneris,
In Babilone, sevin score of yeris :
Tharefor God, of his grace benyng,
Gaif hym ane divyne knawleging.
Duryng his tyme as I heir tell,
He usit counsall of Daniell.
Carione at lenth doith specifie
Of his marvellous natyvitie,
And of his vertuous upbrynging,
And quhow he vincuste Cresus king,
With mony uther valyeant deid ;
As in to Carione thow may reid,
Quhose successioun did indure
Tyll the tent kyng, thareof be sure.
Bot, efter his gret conquessyng,
Rycht miserabyll wes his endyng.
As Herodotus doith discryfe.
In Scythia he lost his lyfe,
Quhare the undantit Scythianis,
Vincuste those nobyll Persianis :
And, efter that Cyrus was dede,
Quene Tomyre hakkit off his hede,
Quhilk wes the Quene of Scythianis,
In the dispyte of Persianis :
Scho kest his heid, for to conclude,
In tyll ane vessell full of blude,
And said thir wourdis, creuellye :
Drynk, now, thy fyll, gyf thow be drye ;
For thow did aye blude schedding thryste,
Now drynk at laser, gyf thow lyste.
Efter that, Cyrus successioun
Of all the warld had possessioun,
Tyll Alexander, with sweird and fyre,
Obtenit perfors, the Thrid Impyre,
Quhilk wes the king of Macedone :
With valyeant Grekis mony one,
In battell fell and furious,
Vincuste the mychtie Darius,
Quhilk wes the tent and the laste kyng
Quhilk did efter king Cyrus ryng.
As for this potent Empriour,
Alexander the Conquerour,
Geve thow at lenth wald reid his ryng,
And of his creuell conquessyng,
In Inglis toung, in his gret Buke,
At lenth his Lyfe thare thow may luke ;
Quhow Alexander, that potent Kyng,
Wes twelf yeris in his conquessyng ;
And quhow, for all his gret conquest,
He levit bot ane yeir in rest,
Quhen be his servand secretlye
He poysonit wes, full pietuouslye.
Lucane doith Alexander compair
Tyll thounder, or fyreffaucht in the air,
One creuell planeit, a mortall weird
Doun thryngand peple with his sweird.
Ganges, that moste famous flude,
He myxit with the Indianis blude ;
And Euphrates, with the blude of Pers :
Quhose creueltie for to rehers,
And saikles blude quhilk he did sched,
War rycht abhominabyll to be red.
Efter his schort prosperitie,
He deit with gret miseritie.
It wer too lang for to dissyd it.
Quhow all his realmes wer devydit.
Aye quhill that Cesar Julyus,
Quhen he had vincust Pompeyus,
Wes chosin Empriour and Kyng,
Abufe the Romanis for tyll ryng,
That potent Prince wes the first man
Quhilk the Ferd Monarchie began ;
And had the hole dominioun
Of everilk land and regioun :
Quhose successouris did ryng, but weir,
Ouer the warld, mony one hundreth yeir,
Bot gentyll Julyus, allace !
Rang Empriour bot lytill space,
Quhilk I thynk pietye tyll deplore :
In fyve moneth and lytill more,
By fals exhorbitant treasoun,
That prudent Prince wes trampit doun
And murdrest, in his counsall hous,
By creuell Brutus and Cassius.
Efter that Julyus wes slane,
Did ryng the gret Octaviane,
Of Empriouris one of the best :
Duryng his tyme wes peace and rest
Ouer all the warld, in ilk regioun,
As storyis makith mentioun.
And als I mak it to thee plane,
Duryng the tyme of Octaviane,
The Sonne of God, our Lord Jesew,
Tuke mankynd of the Virgine trew,
And wes that tyme, in Bethelem borne,
To saif mankynde, quhilk wes forlorne ;
As Scripture makith narratioun
Of his blyst Incarnatioun.
Now haif I tald thee as I can,
Quhow the Foure Monarchyis began.
Bot, in thy mynd, thow may consydder
Quhow warldly power bene bot slydder ;
For all thir gret Impyris ar gone :
Thow seis thair is no Prince allone
Quhilk hes the hole dominioun,
This tyme, of every Regioun.

COURTEOUR.
Father, quhat reasone had those Kyngis
Rewarris to be of utheris Ryngis,
But ony rycht or juste querrell,
Quhairthrouch that thay mycht mak battell,
And commoun pepyll to doun thryng !
To this, said I, mak answeryng.

EXPERIENCE.
My Sonne, said he, that sall be done
As I best can, and that rycht sone.
Thir Monarcheis, I understand,
Preordinat wer by the command
Of God, the Plasmatour of all,
For to doun thryng and to mak thrall
Undantit peple vitious,
And als for to be gratious
To thame quhilk vertuous wer and gude :
As Daniell heth done conclude,
At lenth, in tyll his Propheseis,
Quhow thare suld be Foure Monarcheis.
His secund chepture thow maye see :
Quhow, efter the First Monarchie,
Quhen Nabuchodonosor kyng
Ane ymage sawe, in his slepyng,
With austeir luke, boith heych and breid
And of fyne pure gold wes his heid,
His breist and armes of sylver brycht,
His wambe of copper, hard and wycht,
His loynis and lymmis of irne rycht strong,
His feit of clay, irne mixt among.
Frome a montane thare come allone,
But hand of man, a mekle stone,
Quhilk on that figouris feit did fall,
And dang all doun in poulder small.
Of quhose interpretatioun
Doctouris doith mak narratioun :
The hede of gold did signifye,
First, of Assyrianis Monarchye ;
The sylver breist thay did apply
To Persianis, quhilk rang Secundly ;
The wambe of copper or of brasse,
Thridly, to Greikis comparit was ;
His loynis and lymmis of irne and steill,
Clerkis hes thame comparit weill
To Romanis, throuch thare diligence
To have the Feird preemynence
Abufe all uther Natioun.
Be this interpretation,
The myxit feit with irne and clay
Did signifye this letter day,
Quhen that the warlde sulde be devydit,
As efterwart salbe disydit,
To Christ is signifyit the stone,
Quhose Monarchie sall never be gone ;
For under his dominioun
All Princis sall be trampit doun.
Quhen that gret Kyng Omnipotent
Cumis to his Generall Jugement,
His Monarchie, than, salbe knawin,
As efter sall be to thee schawin.
And als the Scripture sall thee tell
Quhow in the aucht of Daniell,
He saw, in to his visioun,
Be ane plane expositioun,
Quhow that the Grekis sulde wyrk vengeance
Upone the Medis and Persience ;
Comparand Grekis tyll ane goate
With ane horne, feirs, furious, and hote,
Quhilk slew the ram with hornis two,
Comparit tyll Pers, and Mede also.
And so, be Daniellis prophesyis,
All thir gret mychtie Monarchyis,
The quhilkis all uther realmes supprysit,
Be the gret God thay wer devysit :
As He of Tytus the Romane,
Sonne and air to Vespasiane,
Maid hym ane furious instrument,
To put the Jowis to gret torment ;
Quhilk I purpose, or I hyne fair,
Schortlie that processe to declair.

OF THE MOSTE MISERABILL AND MOST TERRABILL DISTRUCTIOUN OF JERUSALEM.

COURTEOUR.
Father, said I, declare to me
Induryng this Ferd Monarchie
The maist infortune that befell.

EXPERIENCE.
My Sonne, said he, that sall I tell.
The moist and manyfest misarie
Became apon the gret cietie
Jerusalem, quhen it wes supprest,
As storyis makis manifest.
Bot, as the Scripture doith devyse,
Jerusalem wes distroyit twyse ;
First, for the gret idolatrye
Quhilk thay commyttit in Jowrye :
The honour aucht to God allone
Thay gaif figuris of stoke and stone.
Affore Christis Incarnatioun
Come this first desolatioun,
Fyve hundreth yeris, four score, and ten,
In Cronicles as thow may ken :
Quhow Nabuchodonosor kyng
That famous citie did doun thryng ;
Thare Kyng, with peple mony one,
Brocht thame, all bound, to Babilone,
Quhare thay remanit presoneris
The space of thre score and ten yeris :
And that first desolatioun
Wes callit the Transmigratioun.
Wes no man left, in all thare landis,
Bot purellis lauborand with thare handis,
Tyll mychtie Cyrus, king of Pers,
As Daniell heth done rehers,
Wes movit, be God, for tyll restore
The Jowis quhare that thay wer afore.
Geve I neglect, I wer to blame,
The last Sege of Jerusalem,
Quhose rewyne wes most miserabyll,
And for to tell rycht terrabyll ;
Wes never, in erth, citie nor toun,
Gatt sic extreme distructioun :
The townis of Tyre, Thebes, nor Troye,
Thay sufferit never half sic noye :
The Emprioure Vespasiane
He did devyse that Sege certane.
Thare wes the Prophesie compleit
Quhilk Christ spake on Mont Olyveit.
Quhen he Jerusalem beheld,
The teiris frome his eine disteld :
Seand, be Divyne prescience,
The gret distructioun and vengence
Quhilk wes to cum on that cietie,
His hart wes persit with pietie,
Sayand, Jerusalem, and thow knew
The gret rewyne, sore wald thow rew ;
For no thyng I can to thé schaw,
The veritie thow wyll nocht knaw,
Nor hes in consydderatioun
Thy holy visitatioun ;
Thy peple wyll no way consydder.
Quham gadderit I wald haif togidder,
As errand scheip bene with thare hirdis ;
Or as the hen gadderis hir byrdis
Under hir wyngis, tenderlye,
Quhilk thay refusit dispitfullye :
Quharefor sall cum that dulefull day,
That no remedy mak thow may ;
Thy dungeounis sall be dung in schounder,
So that the warld sall on thé wounder ;
Thy Tempyll, now most tryumphand,
Sall be tred doun amang the sand.
And, as he said, so it befell,
As heir efter I sall thé tell.

COURTEOUR.
Schaw me, said I, with circumstance,
The speciall cause of that myschance.

EXPERIENCE.
Quod he, As Scripture doith conclude,
For scheddyng of the saikles blude
Of Prophetis, quhilkis God to thame send,
And, als, because that thay myskend
Jesu, the Sonne of God Soverane,
Quhen he amang thame did remane,
For all the myraklis that he schew,
Maliciouslye thay hym mysknew ;
Thocht, be his gret power divyne,
The walter cleir he turnit in wyne,
And, be that self power and mycht,
To the blynde born he gaif the sycht,
And gaif the crukit men thair feit,
And maid the lippir haill compleit ;
He hailit all, and raisit the dede ;
Yit held thay hym at mortall fede.
Because he schew the veritie,
Thay did conclude that he sulde dé.
The Byschoppis, princis of the preistis,
Thay grew so boldin, in thare breistis ;
The Scrybis, the Doctouris of the law,
Of God nor man quhilkis stude none aw
On Christ Jesu to wyrk vengeance ;
Rycht so, the fals Pharesiance,
Ane sect of fenyeit religioun,
Devysit his confusioun,
And send thare servandis, at the last,
And with Strang cordis thay band hym. fast,
Syne scurgit hym, boith bak and syde,
That none for blude mycht se his hyde :
Thare wes nocht left ane penny breid
Unwoundit, frome his feit tyll heid.
In maner of derisioun,
Thay plett for hym ane creuell croun
Of prunyeand thornis, scharpe and lang,
Quhilk on his hevinlye heid thay thrang ;
Syne gart hym, for the gretter lack,
Beir his awin gallous on his back,
Tyll the vyle place of Calvarie,
Quhare mony ane thousand man mycht se.
That Innocent thay tuke, perforce,
And platt hym bakwart to the Croce -,
Throuch feit and handis greit nalis thay thryst.
Tyll blude aboundantlye out bryst :
Without grunschyng, clamor, or crye,
That pane he sufferit patientlye.
And, for agmentyng of his grefis,
Thay hangit hym betuix two thefis ;
Quhare men mycht se the bludy strandis
Quhilkis sprang furth of his feit and handis :
Frome thornis thristit on his heid,
Ran doun the bulryng stremis reid :
In the presens of mony one man,
That blude royall on roches ran.
Schortly to say, that hevinlye Kyng
In extreme dolour thare did hyng,
Tyll he said, Consummatum est.
With a loud crye, he gaif the gaist.
Quhen he was dede, thay tuke one dart,
And peirst that Prince outthrouch the hart,
Fra quham thare ran walter and blude.
The eirth than trymblit, to conclude ;
Phebus did hyde his beymes brycht,
That throuch the warld thare wes no lycht ;
The gret vaill of the tempyll rave ;
The dede men rais out of thare grave,
And in the Citie did appeir,
As in the Scripture thow may heir,
Than Joseph, of Abarimathie,
Did bury him rycht honestlie :
Bot yit he rose, full gloriouslye,
On the third day, tryumphandlye.
With his Disciplis, in certane,
Fourtye dayis he did remane ;
Efter that, to the Hevin ascendit.
Thir Jowis no thyng thare lyfe amendit,
Nor gaif no credens tyll his sawis,
As at more lenth the storye schawis,
Bot cruellye thay did oppres
All men that Christis name did profes,
And persecutit mony one :
Thay presonit boith Peter and Johne ;
And Stewin thay stonit to the dede ;
Frome James the less thay straik the hede.
This wes the cause, in conclusioun,
Of thare creuell confusioun.
The prudent Jow, Josephus, sayis
That he wes present in those dayis ;
And, in his buke, makith mentioun,
Quhow, efter Christis Ascensioun
The space of twa and fourty yeris,
Began those creuell mortall weris,
The secund yeir of Vespasiane,
Quhare mony takin wer and slane.
Josephus planely doith conclude,
Wes never sene sic one multytude,
Affore that tyme, in to the toun,
Quhilk come for thare confusioun.
Thare gret infortune so befell,
That all the Princis of Israell
Convenit agane the tyme of Pace,
Bot tyll returne thay had no grace.
The bald Romanis, with thare chiftane,
Tytus, the sonne of Vespasiane,
Thare army ouer Judea spread :
Than all men to the cietie fled,
Belevand thare to get releif ;
Bot all that turnit to thare myschief.
The Romanis lappit thame about,
That be no waye thay mycht wyn out.
Sax moneth did that Sege indure,
Quhare loste wer mony one creature,
Quhilkis thare in misary did remane,
Tyll thay wer takin, all, or slane.
Duryng the tyme of this assailye,
Thare meit, and drynk, and all did failye ;
For thare wes sic ane multytude.
That thousandis deit for falt of fude.
Necessitie gart thame eit, perforsse,
Dog, catt, and rattone, asse, and horsse.
Ryche men behuffit tyll eate thare gold,
Syne deit of hunger mony fold.
Sic hunger wes without remeid
The quick behuffit tyll eate the deid :
The fylth of closettis mony eit ;
To lenth thare lyfe thay thocht it sweit.
The famous ladyis of the toun,
For falt of fude, thay fell in swoun :
Quhen thay mycht gett none uther meit,
Thay slew thare propir bairnis to eit ;
Bot all for nocht, dispytfullye,
Thare awin sowldiouris, full gredelye,
Reft thame that flesche most miserabyll ;
And thay, with murnyng lamentabyll,
For extreme hunger, zald the spreit.
Thare wes the Prophesie compleit,
As Christ affore made narratioun,
The day of his grym Passioun.
Quhen that the ladyis for hym murnit,
Full pietuouslye he to thame turnit,
And said, Douchteris, murne nocht for me ;
Murne on your awin posteritie :
Within schort tyme sall cum the day
That men of this Cietie sall say,
Quhen thay ar trappit in the snair,
Blyst be the wambe that never bair ;
The barren paupis, than thay sall blys :
That dulefull day ye sall nocht mys.
This Prophesie it come to pas,
That day, with mony lowde Allas !
Sic sorrowfull lamentatioun
Wes never hard in that natioun.
Seand those lustye ladyis sweit
Deand for hunger in the streit,
Thare husbandis, nor thare chyldring,
Mycht geve to thame na comfortyng,
Nor yit releif thame of thir harmis,
Bot atheris deand in utheris armis.
Efter this wofull indigence,
Amang thame rose sic pestilence,
Quharein thair deit mony hounder,
Quhilk tyll declare it wer gret wounder.
And, for fynall conclusioun,
Those weirlyke wallis thay dang doun.
Prince Tytus, with his chevalrye,
With sound of trompe, triumphandlye
He enterrit in that gret Cietie.
Bot tyll declare I thynk pietie
The panefull clamour horribyll.
Of woundit folk most miserabyll.
Thare wes nocht ellis bot tak and slay ;
For thare mycht no man wyn away.
The strandis of blude ran throuch the streitis
Of ded folk trampit under fetis ;
Auld wedowis in the preis wer smorit ;
Young virginis, schamefullye deflorit ;
The gret Tempyll of Salamone,
With mony a curious carvit stone,
With perfyte pynnakles on hycht,
Quhilkis wer rycht bewtyfull and wycht,
Quhare in ryche jowellis did abound,
Thay ruscheit rudlye to the ground,
And sett, in tyll thare furious yre,
Sancta Sanctorum in to fyre ;
And, with extreme confusioun,
All thare gret dungeounis thay dang doun.
Thare bursin wer the boldin breistis
Of byschoppis, princis of the preistis :
Thare takin wes the great vengeance
On fals scrybis and pharisience.
All thare payntit ipocrasie,
That tyme, mycht mak thame no supplie.
That day thay dulefullye repentit
That to the deith of Christe consentit :
Thocht it wes our salvatioun,
It wes to thare dampnatioun.
The vengeance of the blude saikles,
From Abell tyll Zacharies,
That day apone Jerusalem fell.
Bot teddious it wer to tell
The gret extreme confusioun,
And of blude sic effusioun :
Wes never slane so mony ane man,
At one tyme, sen the warld began.
The Jowis, that day, gat thare desyre,
Quhilk thay did aske, in to thare yre,
As bene in Scripture specifyit,
The day quhen Christe wes crucifyit.
Quhen Ponce Pylat, the president,
Said to thame, I am innocent
Of the just blude of Christ Jesus,
Thay cryit, His blude lycht upon us,
And on our generatioun :
Thay gat thare supplicatioun :
That day, with mony cairfull cry,
Thare blude was sched aboundantly.
Josephus wryttith, in his buke,
His Cronicle quho lyste to luke
Duryng that creuell sege, certane,
Wer alewin hundreth thowsand slane ;
Of presonaris, weill tauld and sene,
Foure score of thousandis, and sevintene.
Out of the land thay did expell
All the peple of Israell,
And for thare gret ingratytude,
Thay leif yit under servytude.
Thare is no Jow, in no countre,
Quhilk hes one fute of propertie,
Nor never had, withouttin weir,
Sen this day fyftene hundreth yeir,
Nor never sall, I to thé schaw,
Tyll that thay turne to Christis law.
Sum sayis that Jowis mony fald
Wer thretty for ane penny sald ;
As Judas sauld the Kyng of Glore
For thretty pennyis, and no more.
Efter that mony wer myschevit,
Quhen novellis past quhow lang thay levit
Apone thare gold, withouttin doute
Thay slyt thare bellyis, to sers it oute.
The rest in Egypt thay did sende,
Presonaris to thare lyvis ende.
Tytus tuke in his cumpanye,
Gret nummer of the most worthye,
With him to Rome, he led thame bound,
Syne creuelly did thame confound :
His victory for tyll decore,
And for agmentyng of his glore,
Gart put thame in to publict placis,
Quhare all folk mycht behald thare facis ;
Syne with wyld lyonis creuellye
He gart devore thame dulefullye.
This hie, tryumphand, mychtie Toun
At Pasche wes put to confusioun,
Because that in the tyme of Pace
Thay crucifyit the Kyng of Grace.
Sum hes this mater done indyte
More ornatly than I can wryte ;
Quharefor I speik of it no more :
Onely to God be laude and glore.

OF THE MISERABILL END OF CERTANE TYRANE PRINCIS ; AND SPECIALLYE THE BEGYNNARIS OF THE FOURE MONARCHEIS.

EXPERIENCE.
Now have I done declare, at thy desyris,
As thow demandit, in to termys schort,
And quhow began the principall Impyris,
As Cronicle and Scripture dois report :
Quhairfor, my Sone, I hartly thee exhort,
Perfytlie prent in thy remembrance
Of this inconstante warld the variance.

The Princis of thir Foure gret Monarcheis,
In thare most hiest pompe Imperiallis,
Traistyng to be moist sure sett in thare seis,
The fraudful warld gaif to thame mortall fallis,
For thare rewarde, bot dyrk memoriallis :
Thocht ouir the warld thay had preheminence,
Of it thay gat none uther recompence.

For, siclyke as the snaw doith melt in May,
Throuch the reflex of Phebus bemys brycht,
Thir gret Impyris rycht so ar went away :
Gone bene thare glore, thair power, and thare mycht,
Because thay wer revaris withouttin rycht,
And blude scheddaris full creuell, to conclude :
Rycht creuellye, tharefor, wes sched thare blude.

Behald quhow God, aye sen the warld began,
Hes maid of Tyrrane Kyngis instrumentis
To scurge peple, and to keill mony one man,
Quhilkis to his law wer inobedientis :
Quhen thay had done perfurneis his ententis,
In dantyng wrangus peple schamefullye,
He sufferit thame be scurgit creuellye ;

Evin as the scule maister doith mak ane wand,
To dant and dyng scollaris of rude ingyne,
The quhilkis wyll nocht study at his command :
He scurgis thame, and only to that fyne,
That thay suld to his trew counsall inclyne ;
Quhen thay obey, and meisit bene his yre,
He takis the wand and castis in to the fyre.

God of kyng Pharo maid one instrument,
Quhilk wes the gret kyng of Egyptience.
His awin peculiar peple to torment :
That beand done, he wrocht on hym vengence,
And leit hym fall throuch inobedience ;
And, fynallie, he, with his gret armye,
In the Reid Sey thame drownit dulefullye.

Rycht so, of Nabuchodonosor kyng,
God maid of hym ane furious instrument,
Jerusalem and the Jowis to doun thryng,
Quhen thay to God wer inobedient ;
Syne reft hym frome his ryches and his rent,
And hym transformit in ane beist brutell,
Sevin yeris and more, as wryttis Daniell.

Alexander, throuch prydefull tyrranye,
In yeris twelf did mak his gret conquest,
Aye scheddand saikles blude full creuellye ;
Tyll he wes Kyng of kyngis, he tuke no rest :
In all the warld quhen he wes full possest,
In Babilone thronit tryumphantlye,
Throuch poysoun strang, deceisit dulefullye.

Duke Hanniball, the Strang Cartagiane,
The danter of the Romanis pompe and glorye,
Be his power were mony one thousand slane,
As may be red at lenth in tyll his storye.
At Cannas, quhare he wan the victorye,
On Romanis handis that dede lay on the ground,
Three heipit buschellis wer of ryngis found.

In to that mortall battell, I heir sane,
Of the Romanis moste worthy weriouris,
By presonaris, wer fourty thousand slane ;
Of quhom thare wes thretty wyse Senatouris,
And twentye Lordis, the quhilkis had bene Pre- touris,
That deit in to defence of thare countre,
And for tyll hald thare lande at lybertie.

Quhat rewarde gatt this creuell campioun,
Quhen he had slane so gret one multytude,
And quhen the glasse of his glorye wes roun !
Ane schamefull deith, and, schortlye to conclude,
This bene reward of all scheddaris of blude ;
For he gat sic extreme confusioun,
He slew hymself in drynking strang poysoun.

Behald the twa moste famous campionis,
That is to say, Julyus and Pompey,
Quhilkis did conquesse all erthly Regionis,
Alsweill maine land as Ylis in the sey,
And to the toun of Rome gart thame obey :
For Pompeyus subdewit the Orient ;
And Julyus Cesar, all the Occident.

Bot fynaly, thir two did stryve for stait,
Quhare throw three hundreth thowsand men were slane ;
Bot Pompeyus, efter that gret debait,
He murdreist wes, the story tellis plane.
Than Julyus wes prince and soverane,
Abufe the hole warld Empriour and Kyng ;
Bot, in to rest, schorte tyme indurit his ryng :

For, within fyve moneth and lytill more,
Amyd his Lordis in the counsall hous.
He murdreist wes, quhat nedeth proces more ?
As I have said, be Brute and Cassius.
Geve thow wald knaw thare dethis dolorous,
Thow most lenth go reid the Romane storye,
Quhilk hes this mater put in memorye.

Gone is the Goldin warld of Asserianis,
Of quhome kyng Nynus wes first and principall ;
Gone is the Sylver warld of Persianis ;
The Coppar warld of Grekis now is thrall ;
The warld of Irne, quhilk wes the last of all,
Comparit to the Romanis in thare glore,
Ar gone, rycht so, I heir of thame no more.

Now is the warld of irne myxit with clay,
As Daniell at lenth hes done indyte :
The gret Impyris ar meltit clene away ;
Now is the warld of dolour and dispyte.
I se nocht ellis bot troubyll infinyte :
Quharefor, my Sonne, I mak it to thé kend,
This Warld, I wait, is drawand to ane end.

Tokynnis of darth, hunger, and pestilence,
With creuell weris, boith be sey and land,
Realme aganis realme with mortall violence,
Quhilk signifyis the last day evin at hand :
Quharefor, my Sonne, be in thy faith constand,
Rasyng thy heart to God, and cry for grace,
And mend thy lyfe, quhill thow hes tyme and space

HEIR FOLLOWIS THE FYRST SPIRITUALL, AND PAPALL MONARCHIE.

COURTEOUR.
Father, Is thare no Prynce ringand,
Quhilk hes the Warld now at command ;
As had the Kyngis of Asserianis,
The Persis, Grekis, or the Romanis ?
Quho hes now, most dominioun
Of everilk land and regioun ?

EXPERIENCE.
Thare is no Prince, my Sonne,, said he,
That hes the principall Monarchie
Abufe the warld universall,
With hole power Imperiall,
As Alexander, or Darius,
Or as had Cesar Julyus :
For Orient and Occident
To thame wer all obedient.
Nochtwithstandyng, I find one kyng
Quhilk in tyll Europe doith ryng,
That is, the potent Pope of Rome,
Impyrand ouir all Christindome,
To quhome no Prince may be compare,
As Canon Lawis can declare.
All Princis of the Occident
Ar tyll his Grace obedient ;
For he hes hole power compleit
Boith of the body and the spreit,
Quhilk never had no Prince affore,
Except the mychtie Kyng of Glore :
To Christe he is gret Lewtennand,
In holy Peteris saitt syttand :
So he is of all kyngis Kyng
Quhilkis in to Europe now doith ryng.
And, as the Romane Empriouris,
Havyng the Warld under thare curis,
Had princis, knychtis, and campiounis,
Rewlaris in tyll all Regiounis,
Uphaldyng thare auctoritie,
Usyng justice and policie ;
Rycht so, this potent Pope of Rome,
The soverane kyng of Christindome,
He hes, in tyll ilk countré,
His Princis of gret gravytie ;
In sum countreis, his Cardinallis,
In thare moste precious apparallis ;
Archbyschoppis, byschoppis, thow may se,
Defendyng his auctoritie,
With uther potent patriarkis ;
Collegis full of cunnyng clerkis ;
Abbottis and priouris, as ye ken,
Misrewlaris of religious men ;
Officiallis, with thare procuratouris,
Quhose langsum law spoilyeis the puris
Archidenis and denis of dignitie ;
Gret doctouris of divynitie ;
Thare chantouris, and thare sacristanis,
Thare tresouraris, and thare subdenis ;
Legionis of preistis seculeris,
Personis, vicairis, monkis, and freris,
Of divers Ordouris mony one,
Quhilk langsum wer for tyll expone,
In syndrie habitis, as ye ken,
Different from uther Christin men ;
Fair ladyis of religioun
Proffessit, in every regioun ;
Fals heremitis, fassionit lyke the freris ;
Proude parische clerkis, and pardoneris,
Thare gryntaris, and thare chamberlanis,
With thare temporall courtissianis,
Thus, all the warld, be land and sey,
His Sanctitude thay do obey :
Nocht onely his Spirituall kyngdome,
Bot the gret Empriour of Rome,
And Kyngis of everilk regioun,
That day quhen thay resave thare crown,
Thay mak aith of fidelytie
Tyll defende his auctorytie :
Moreovir, with humyll reverence,
Thay mak tyll hym obedience,
Be thare selfis, or ambassadouris,
Or utheris ornate oratouris.
Quho doith ganestand his Majestie,
His lawis, or his lybertie,
Or haldis ony opinioun
Contrar his gret dominioun,
Outher be way of deid or wordis,
Ar put to deith, be fyre or swordis :
Sanct Peter stylit wes Sanctus ;
Bot he is callit Sanctissimus :
His style at lenth gyf thow wald knaw,
Thow moste go luke the Canon Law,
Boith in the Sext and Clementene :
His staitly style thare may be sene :
Thare sall thow fynd, reid gyf thow can,
Quhow he is nother God nor man.

COURTEOUR.
Quhat is he than, be your jugement ?
Quod I, me thynk hym different,
Far from our Soverane, Lord Jesus,
And tyll his kynd contrarious :
For Christ wes God and naturall man.
Gyf he be nother, quhat is he than !

EXPERIENCE.
The Canon Law, my Sonne, said he,
That questioun wyll declare to thé.
It doith transcend my rude ingyne
His Sanctitude for tyll defyne,
Or to schaw the auctoritie
Pertenyng to his Majestie.
So gret one Prince quhare sall thow fynd,
That spiritually may lowse and bynd ;
Nor be quhame synnis ar forgyffin,
Be thay with his disciplis schrevin !
Quhame ever he byndis by his mycht,
Thay boundin ar in Goddis sycht ;
Quhame ever he lousis in erth heir doun,
Ar lousit be God in his regioun.
Als he is Prince of Purgatorie,
Delyvering saulis from paine to glorie :
Of that dirke dungeoun, but doute,
Quham evir he plesis he takis thame oute.
Oure secreit synnis, every yeir,
We mon schaw to sum preist or freir,
And tak thare absolutioun,
Or ellis we gett no remissioun ;
So, be this way, thay cleirly ken
The secretis of all seculare men ;
Thare secretis we knaw nocht at all :
Thus ar we to thame bound and thrall.
Quhat evir thare ministeris commandis
Most be obeyit, without demandis.
Quharefor, my Sonne, I say to thé,
This is ane marvellous Monarchie,
Quhilk hes power Imperiall
Boith of the body and the saull.

COURTEOUR.
Father, quod I, declare to me
Quhow did begyn this Monarchie.

EXPERIENCE.
Quod he, Christ Jesus, God and Man,
That Impyre gratiouslye began,
Nocht be the fyre, nor be the swourde ;
Bot be the vertew of his wourde ;
And left, in tyll his Testament,
Mony ane devote document,
With his successouris to be usit,
Thocht mony of thame be now abusit.
For Peter and Paull, with all the rest
Of thare brethrin, maid manifest
The law of God, with trew intent,
Precheing the Auld and New Testament.
Thay led thair lyfe in povertie,
Devotioun, and humilytie,
As did thare maister, Christ Jesus ;
And war nocht half so glorious
As thare successouris now in Rome,
Impyrand ouer all Christindome.
Efter the deth of Peter and Paull,
And Christis trew disciplis all,
Thare successouris, within few yeris,
As at more lenth thare storye beris,
Full craftelye clam to the heycht,
Frome Spirituall lyfe to Temporall mycht.

COURTEOUR.
Father, or we passe forthermore,
Quhen did begyn thare Temporall glore ?

EXPERIENCE.
Sonne, said he, thow sall understand,
Or ever ane Pape gat ony land,
Twa and thretty gude Papis in Rome
Ressavit the Crown of martyrdome,
Bot nocht the thrinfald diademe ;
To weir thré crownis thay thocht gret schame :
Tyll Sylvester the Confessoure
Frome Constantene the Emprioure
Ressavit the Realme of Italie,
Rycht so, of Rome the gret cietie.
That wes the rute of thare ryches :
Then sprang the well of welthynes.
Quhen that the Pape wes maid ane kyng,
All Princis bowit at his biddyng :
This act wes done, withouttin weir,
Frome Christis deith thre hundreth yeir.
Than Lady Sensualitie
Tuke lugeing in that gret Cetie,
Quhare scho sensyne hes done remane, !
As thare awin lady Soverane.
Than Kyngis, in tyll all Nationis,
Maid Preistis gret fundationis :
Thay thocht gret mereit and honour
To contrafait the Empriour ;
As did David, of Scotland kyng,
The quhilk did founde, duryng his ryng,
Fyftene Abbayis, with temporall landis,
Withouttin teindis and offerandis ;
Be quhose holy simplicitie
He left the Crown in povertie.
Now haif I schawin thee as I can,
Quhow thare Temporall impyre began,
Ascendyng up, aye gre by gre,
Abufe the Empriouris Majestie.
So, quhen thay gat amang thare handis
Of Italie all the Empriouris landis,
Efter that, in ilke countrie
Sprang up thare temporalitie,
With so gret ryches and sic rent,
That thay gan to be negligent
In makyng ministratioun
To Christis trew Congregatioun,
And tuke no more paine in thair precheing,
And far les travell in thare techeing ;
Changeing thare Spiritualitie
In Temporall sensualitie.

COURTEOUR.
Father, thynk ye that thay ar sure
That thare Impyre sall lang indure ?

EXPERIENCE.
Apperandlye it may be kende,
Quod he, thare glore sall have ane ende :
I mene, thare Temporall Monarchie
Sall turne in tyll humylitie.
Throuch Goddis worde, without debait,
Thay sall turne to thare first estait :
As Daniellis prophesie apperis,
Thareto sall nocht be mony yeris.
Quhowbeit Christis faith sall never faill,
Bot more and more it sall prevaill ;
Thocht Christis trew Congregatioun
Suffer gret trybulatioun.

COURTEOUR.
Father, said I be quhat reasoun
Thynk ye thare Impyre may cum doun ?

EXPERIENCE.
Consydderyng thare preheminence,
Quod he, for inobedience
Abusyng the commandiment
Quhilk Christ left in his Testament ;
Usyng thare awin traditioun
More than his institutioun :
For Christ, in his last conventioun,
The day of his Ascensioun,
Tyll his Disciplis gaif command,
That thay suld passe in every land,
To teche and preche, with trew intent,
His law and his commandiment :
None uther office he to thame gaif ;
He did nocht bid thame seik nor craif
Cors presentis, nor offerandis,
Nor gett Lordschipis of temporall landis.
Bot now it may be hard and sene,
Baith with thyne eiris and thyne eine,
Quhow Prelatis now, in every land,
Takis lytill cure of Christis command,
Nouther in to thare deidis nor sawis ;
Neglectyng thare awin Canon Lawis,
Usying thame selfis contrarious,
For the maist part, to Christ Jesus.
Christ thocht no schame to be ane precheour,
And tyll all peple of trewth ane techeour.
Ane Pope, Byschope, or Cardinall,
To teche nor preche wyll nocht be thrall :
Thay send furth Freris, to preche for thame,
Quhilk garris the peple now abhor thame.
Christ wald nocht be ane Temporall kyng,
Rychely into no realme to ryng,
Bot fled Temporall auctoritie.
As in the Scripture thow may se.
All men may knaw quhow Popis ryngis,
In dignitie abufe all kyngis,
Als Weill in Temporalitie
As in to Spiritualitie.
Thow may se, be experience,
The Popis princely preheminence.
In Cronicles geve thow lyst to luke,
Quhow Carion wryttis, in his buke,
Ane notabyll narratioun :
The yeir of oure Salvatioun
Ellewin hundreth and sax and fyftie,
Pope Alexander, presumptuouslie,
Quhilk wes the thrid Pope of that name,
To Frederike Empriour did diffame
In Veneis, that tryumphand town :
That nobyll Empriour gart ly down
Apone his wambe, with schame and lake,
Syne treid his feit apone his bake,
In toknyng of obedience.
Thare he schew his preheminence,
And causit his Clergy for to syng
Thir wourdis efter following :
Super Aspidem et Basiliscum ambulabis.
Et conculcabis Leonem et Draconem. (That is,)
Thow sal gang upon the eddar and the coketrice,
And thow sal tred down the lyoun and the dragoun.
Than said this humyll Empriour,
I do to Peter this honour !
The Pope answerit, with wordis wroith,
Thow sall me honour, and Peter boith !
Christ, for to schaw his humyll spreit,
Did wasche his pure Disciplis feit :
The Popis holynis, I wys,
Wyll suffer Kyngis his feit to kys.
Birdis had thare nestis, and toddis thare den ;
Bot Christ Jesus, saiffer of men,
In erth had nocht ane penny breid
Quhare on he mycht repose his heid.
Quhowbeit, the Popis excellence
Hes castellis of magnifycence ;
Abbottis, Byschoppis, and Cardinallis
Hes plesand palyces royallis :
Lyke Paradyse ar those prelattis places,
Wantyng no plesoure of fair faces.
Jhone, Androw, James, Peter, nor Paull
Had few housis amang thame all :
From tyme thay knew the veritie
Thay did contempne all propertie,
And wer rycht hartfully content
Of meit, drynk, and abuilyement.
To saif Mankynde, that wes forlorne,
Christ bure ane creuell crown of thorne ;
The Pope, thre crownis, for the nonis,
Of gold, poulderit with pretious stonis.
Of gold and sylver, I am sure,
Christ Jesus tuke bot lytill cure,
And left nocht, quhen he yald the spreit,
To by hym self ane wynding scheit.
Bot his successoure, gude Pope Johne,
Quhen he deceisit in Avinione,
He left behynd hym one treassoure
Of gold and sylver, by mesoure,
Be one juste computatioun,
Weill fyve and twentye myllioun,
As dois indyte Palmerius :
Reid hym, and thow sall fynd it thus.
Christis Disciplis wer weill knawin
Throuch vertew, quhilk wes be thame schawin,
In speciall fervent charitie,
Gret pacience, and humylitie :
The Popis floke, in all regiounis,
Ar knawin best be thare clyppit crounis.
Christ he did honour matrimonie
In to the Cane of Galalie,
Quhare he, be his power Divyne,
Did turne the walter in to wyne ;
And, als, cheisit sum maryit men
To be his servandis, as ye ken :
And Peter, duryng all his lyfe,
He thocht no syn to haif ane wyfe.
Ye sall nocht fynd, in no passage,
Quhare Christ forbiddith mariage ;
Bot leifsum tyll ilk man to marye,
Quhilk wantis the gyft of chaistytie.
The Pope hes maid the contrar lawis
In his kyngdome, as all men knawis :
None of his Priestis dar marye wyfis,
Under no les paine nor thare lyfis.
Thocht thay haif concubynis fyftene,
In to that cace, thay ar ouersene.
Quhat chaistytie thay keip in Rome
Is weill kend ouer all Christindome.
Christ did schaw his obedience
On to the Empriouris excellence,
And causit Peter for to pay
Trybute to Cesar for thame tway.
Paull biddis us be obedient
To Kyngis, as the most excellent.
The contrar did Pope Celistene,
Quhen that his sanctytude serene
Did crown Henry the Empriour :
I thynk he did hym small honour ;
For with his feit he did hym crown,
Syne with his feit the crown dang doun,
Sayand, I haif auctoritie
Men tyll exalt to dignitie,
And to mak Empriouris and Kyngis,
And syne depryve thame of thair ryngis.
Peter, be my opinioun,
Did never use sic dominioun.
Apperandlye, be my jugement,
That Pope red never the New Testament :
Gyf he had lernit at that lore,
He had refusit sic vaine glore,
As Barnabas, Peter and Paull,
And rycht so, Christis disciplis all.
The Capitane Cornelius,
Quhen Sanct Peter come tyll his hous,
Tyll worschyp hym, fell at his feit ;
Bot Sanct Peter, with humyll spreit,
Did rais hym up, with diligence,
And did refuse sic reverence.
Rycht so, Sanct Johne the Evangelist
The Angellis feit he wald haif kist ;
Bot he refusit sic honoure,
Sayand, I am bot servitoure,
Rycht so, thy fallow and thy brother :
Gyff glore to God, and to none uther.
Alykewyis Barnabas and Paull
Sic honour did refuse at all :
In Listra, quhare thay wroucht gret workis,
The preist of Jupiter, with his clerkis,
And all the peple, with thare avyse,
Wald haif maid to thame sacrifyse ;
Of quhilk thay wer so discontent,
That thay thare clothyng raif and rent ;
And Paull amang thame rudely ran,
Sayand, I am ane mortall man :
Gyf glore to God, of kyngis Kyng,
That maid hevin, erth, and every thyng.
Sen Peter and Paull vaine glore refusit,
With Popis quhy sulde sic glore be usit !
Peter, Andro, Johne, James, and Paull,
And Christis trew disciplis all,
Be Goddis worde thare faith defendit ;
To byrne and skald thay never pretendit.
The Pope defendis his traditioun
Be flammand fyre, without remissioun :
Quhowbeit men breik the law Divyne,
Thay ar nocht put to so gret pyne,
For huredome, nor idolatrye,
For incest, nor adulterye ;
Or quhen young virginnis ar deflorit.
For sic thyng men ar nocht abhorit.
Bot quho that eitis flesche in to Lent
Ar terriblye put to torment ;
And gyf ane preist happynis to marye,
Thay do hym baneis, cursse, and warye,
Thocht it be nocht aganis the law
Of God, as men may cleirlie knaw :
Betuix thir two quhat difference bene,
Be faithfull folk it may be sene.
Sic antitheses mony mo
I mycht declare, quhilkis I lat go,
And may nocht tary to compyle
Of ilk Ordour the staitlye style.
The seilye Nun wyll thynk gret schame,
Without scho callit be Madame ;
The pure Preist thynkis he gettis no rycht,
Be he nocht stylit lyke ane knycht,
And callit Schir, affore his name,
As Schir Thomas, and Schir Wilyame.
All monkrye, ye may heir and se,
Ar callit Denis, for dignitie :
Quhowbeit his mother mylk the kow,
He mone be callit Dene Androw,
Dene Peter, Dene Paull, and Dene Robart.
With Christ, thay tak ane painfull part,
With dowbyll clethyng frome the cald,
Eitand and drynkand quhen thay wald ;
With curious countryng in the queir :
God wait, gyf thay by Hevin full deir,
My lorde Abbot, rycht venerabyll,
Ay marschellit upmoste at the tabyll ;
My lord Byschope, moste reverent,
Sett abufe Erlis in Parliament ;
And Cardinalis, duryng thare ryngis,
Fallowis to Princis and to Kyngis ;
The Pope exaltit, in honour,
Abufe the potent Empriour.
The proude Persone, I thynk trewlye,
He leidis his lyfe rycht lustelye ;
For quhy, he hes none uther pyne
Bot tak his teind, and spend it syne :
Bot he is oblyste, be resoun,
To preche untyll his perrochioun :
Thoucht they want precheing sevintene yeir,
He wyll nocht want ane boll of beir.
Sum Personis hes at thare command
The wantoun wencheis of the land ;
Als thay have gret prerogatyffis,
That may depart ay with thare wyffis,
Without divorce or summondyng,
Syne tak ane uther but weddyng :
Sum man wald thynk ane lustye lyfe,
Ay quhen he lyst to chenge his wyfe,
And tak ane uther of more bewtie :
Bot Secularis wantis that lybertie,
The quhilk ar bound in mariage ;
Bot thay, lyke rammis in to thair rage,
Unpissilit rynnis amang the yowis,
So lang as Nature in thame growis.
And als the Vicar, as I trow,
He wyll nocht faill to tak ane kow,
And umaist claith, thoucht babis thame ban,
Frome ane pure selye husband man ;
Quhen that he lyis for tyll de,
Haiffeing small bairnis two or thre,
And hes thre ky, withouttin mo,
The vicare moste have one of tho,
With the gray cloke, that happis the bed,
Howbeit that he be purelye cled :
And gyf the wyfe dé on the morne,
Thocht all the babis suld be forlorne,
The uther kow he cleikis awaye,
With hir pure coit of roploch graye.
And gyf, within tway dayis or thre,
The eldest chyld hapnis to de,
Of the thrid kow he wylbe sure.
Quhen he hes all than under his cure,
And father and mother boith ar dede,
Beg mon the babis, without remede :
Thay hauld the corps at the kirk style,
And thare it moste remane ane quhyle,
Tyll thay gett sufficient souertie
For thare Kirk rycht and dewitie.
Than cummis the landis lord perfors,
And cleiks tyll hym ane herield hors.
Pure laubourars wald that law wer doun,
Quhilk never was fundit be resoun :
I hard thame say, onder confessioun,
That Law is brother tyll Oppressioun.
My Sonne, I have schawin, as I can,
Quhow this Fyft Monarchie began ;
Quhose gret Impyre for to report
At lenth, the tyme bene all too schort.

HEIR FOLLOWIS ANE DESCRIPTIOUN OF THE COURT OF ROME.

COURTEOUR.
Father, said I, quhat rewll keip thay in Rome,
Quhilk hes the Spirituall dominatioun
And Monarchie abufe all Christindome ?
Schaw me, I mak yow supplicatioun.

EXPERIENCE.
My Sonne, wald I mak trew narratioun,
Said he, to Peter and Paull thocht thay succeid,
I thynk thay preve nocht that in to thare deid :
For Peter, Androw, and Johne war fyschearis fyne,
Of men and wemen, to the Christin faith ;
Bot thay haif spred thare net, with huik and lyne,
On rentis ryche, on gold, and uther graith :
Sic fyscheing to neglect thay wylbe laith ;
For quhy, thay haif fyscheit in, ouerthort the strandis,
Ane gret part trewlye of all temporall landis :
With that, the tent part of all gude movabyll,
For the uphaldyng of thare digniteis :
So bene thare fyscheing wounder profitabyll
On the dry land als weill as on the seis.
Thare herywaiter thay spread in all countreis.
And, with thare hois nett, daylie drawis to Rome
The most fyne gold that is in Christindome.
I dar Weill say, within this fyftie yeir,
Rome hes ressett, furth of this Regioun,
For Bullis and Benefyce, quhilk thay by full deir,
Quhilk mycht ful weil haif payit a kingis ransoun.
Bot, war I worthye for to weir ane crown,
Preistis suld no more our substance so consume,
Sendyng yeirlye, so gret ryches to Rome.
In to thare tramalt nett thay fangit ane fysche,
More nor ane quhaill worthye of memorye,
Of quhome thay have had mony dayntay dysche,
Be quhome thay ar exaltit to gret glorye ;
That marvelous monstour callit Purgatorye.
Howbeit tyll us it is nocht amyable,
It hes to thame bene veray profytable.
Lat thay that fructfull fysche eschaip thare nett,
Be quhome thay haif so gret commoditeis,
Ane more fatt fysche I traist thay sall nocht gett,
Thocht thay wald sers ouerthort the occiane seis.
Adew the daylie dolorous Derigeis !
Selye pure preists may syng with hart full sorye,
Want thay that painefull palyce, Purgatorye.
Fairweill, monkyre, with chanoun, nun, and freir !
Allace ! thay wylbe lychtleit in all landis :
Cowlis wyll no more be kend in kirk nor queir,
Lat thay that fructfull fysche eschaip thare handis.
I counsall theme to bynd hym fast in bandis :
For Peter, Androw, nor Johne culde never gett
So profytable ane fysche in to thare nett.
Thare merchandye, in tyll all Nationis,
As prentit lede, thare walx, and perchement,
Thare pardonis, and thare dispensationis,
Thay do exceid sum temporall princis rent :
In sic trafyke thay ar nocht neglygent.
Of benefyce thay mak gude merchandyce,
Throuch symonie, quhilk thay hald lytill vyce.
Christ did command Peter to feid his scheip ;
And so he did feid thame full tenderlye :
Of that command thay take bot lytill keip ;
Bot Christis scheip thay spulye petuouslye ;
And with the woll thay cleith thame curiouslye :
Lyk gormand wolfis, thay tak of thame thare fude,
Thai eit thair flesche, and drynkis boith mylk and blude.
For that office thay serve bot lytill hyir :
I thynk sic Pastouris ar nocht for to pryse,
Quhilk can nocht gyde thare scheip about the myir,
Thay ar so besye in thare merchandyse.
Thocht Peter wes porter of Paradyse,
That plesand passage craftelye thay close :
Throuch thame rycht few gettis entres, I suppose.
Christ Jesus said, as Matthew did report,
Wo be to Scribes and to Pharisience,
The quhilkis did close of Paradyse the port.
Of thame we haif the same experience :
To enter thare thay mak small diligence,
Thay tak sic cure in temporall besynes ;
Rycht so, frome us thay stop the plane entres.
Those spirituall keis quhilkis Christ to Peter gaif,
Thare colour cleir with reik and rowst ar fadit ;
Unoccupyit thay hald thame in thare neif :
Of that office thay serve to be degradit,
With Goddis worde withoute that thay remeid it,
Oppinyng the port quhilk lang tyme hes bene closit,
That we may enter, with thame, and be rejoisit.
Contrar tyll Christis institutioun,
To thame that deis in habit of ane freir,
Rome hes thame grantit full remissioun,
To pass tyll hevin straucht way, withouttin weir,
Quhilk bene in Scotland usit mony ane yeir.
Be thare sic vertew in ane Freris hude,
I thynk in vane Christ Jesus sched his blude.
Wald God the Pope, quhilk hes preheminence,
With advyse of his Counsall Generall,
That thay wald do thare detfull deligence,
That Christis law mycht keipit be ouir all,
And trewlye preicheit baith to gret and small,
And geve to thame Spirituall auctoritie
Quhilk culde perfytlie schaw the veritie !
Quho can not preche, a Preist sulde not be namit,
As may be previt be the Law Divyne ;
And, be the Canon law, thay ar defamit
That takis Priesthood bot onely to that fyne :
Tyll all vertew thare hartis thay suld inclyne,
In speciall, to preche with trew intentis.
And minister the neidfull Sacramentis.
As for thare Monkis, thair Chanounis, and thare
Freris,
And lustye Ladyis of Religioun,
I knaw nocht quhat to thare office efferis ;
Bot men may se thare gret abusioun.
Thay ar nocht lyke, in to conclusioun,
Nother in to thare wordis nor thare warkis,
To the Apostolis, Prophetis, nor Patriarkis.
Geve presentlye thare Prelatis can nocht preche,
Than latt ilke Byschope haif ane Suffragane,
Or successour, quhilk can the peple teche,
On thare expensis yeirlye to remane,
To cause the peple frome thare vyce refrane :
And, quhen ane Prelate hapnith to deceace,
Than put ane perfyte precheour in his pleace.
Do thay nocht so, on thame sall ly the charge,
Geveand unhable men auctoritie ;
As quho wald mak ane steirman tyll ane barge
Of ane blynd borne, quhilk can no dainger se.
Geve that schyp drown, forsuth, I say for me,
Quho gaif that steirman sic commissioun
Suld of the schip mak restitution.
The humane Lawis that ar contrarious
And nocht conformyng to the Law divyne,
Thay suld expell, and hald thame odious,
Quhen thay persave thame cum to no gude fyne,
Inventit bot be sensuall menis ingyne,
As that law quhilk forbiddis mariage,
Causyng young Clerkis byrne in lustys rage,
Difficill is chaistitie tyll observe,
But speciall grace, laubore, and abstinence,
In tyll our flesche aye ryngith, tyll we sterve,
That first Originall syn, concupiscence,
Quhilk we, throuch Adamis inobedience,
Hes done incur, and sall indure for ever,
Quhill that our saull and body Deith dissever.
Tharefor God maid of mariage the band,
In Paradyse, as Scripture doith recorde :
In Galelie, rycht so, I understand,
Wes mariage honourit be Christ our Lorde
Auld Law and New thareto thay do concorde.
I thynk for me, better that thay had sleipit,
Nor tyll have maid ane law and never keip it.
Tuke nocht Christ Jesu his Humanitie
Of ane Virgene in marriage contractit,
And of hir flesche cled his Divynitie !
Quhy haif thay done that blysfull band dejectit,
In thare kyngdome I wald God it wer correctit ;
That young prelattis mycht marye lustye wyffis.
And nocht in sensuall luste to leid thare lyffis.
Did nocht Christ cheis of honest maryit men,
Alsweill as thay that keipit chaistitie,
For to be his disciplis as ye ken ?
As in the Scripture cleirlye thay may se,
Thay keipit, styll, thare wyffis, with honestie ;
As Peter, and his spousit bretherin, all,
Observit chaistitie matrymoniall.
Bot now apperis the prophesie of Paull,
Quhow sum suld ryis, in to the latter aige,
That frome the trew faithe sulde depart and fall,
And sulde forbid the band of mariage ;
Als thow sall fynd, into that sam passage,
Thay sulde command from meitis tyll abstene,
Quhilk God creat his pepyll to sustene.
Bot, sen the Pope, our Spirituall prince and kyng,
He dois ouersie sic vyces manifest,
And in his kyngdome sufferith for to ryng
The men be quhome the veritie bene supprest,
I excuse nocht hym self more than the rest.
Allace ! how sulde we membris be weill usit,
Quhen so our spirituall heidis bene abusit ?
The famous ancient doctor Aviceane,
Savis, quhen evyll rewme descendis frome the heid
In to the membris, generith mekle pane,
Without thare be maid, haistelye, remeid.
Quhen that cald humour dounwart dois proceid,
In senownis it causis Arthetica,
Rycht so, in to the handis, crampe Chiragra.
Of maladeis it generis mony mo
Bot gyf men gett sum soverane preserve,
As in the theis Siatica Passio,
And in the breist, sumtyme the strang Caterve,
Quhilk causis men rycht haistellye to sterve,
And Podagra, difficill for to cure,
In mennis feit, quhilk lang tyme dois indure.
So, to this moste tryumphant Court of Rome
This simylitude fuill weill I may compare,
Quhilk hes bene heirschyp of all Christindome,
And to the warld ane evyll examplare,
That .umquhyle was lod sterre and lumynare,
And the moste sapient sors of sanctytude,
Bot now, allace ! bair of beatytude.
Thare Kyngdome may be callit Babilone,
Quhilk umquhyle was ane brycht Hierusalem,
As planelye menis the Apostill Johne.
Thare moste famous Citie hes tynt the fame ;
Inhabitaris thareof, thare nobyll name ;
For quhy ? thay haif of Sanctis habitacle
To Symon Magus maid ane tabernacle.
And horribyll vaill of everilk kynd of vyce,
Ane laithlye loch of stynkand lychorye,
Ane curssit cove, corrupt with covatyce,
Bordourit aboute with pryde and symonye,
Sum sayis, ane systerne full of sodomye,
Quhose vyce in speciall gyf I wald declair,
It wer aneuch for tyll perturbe the air.
Of treuth the hoill Christian Religioun
Throuch thame are scandalizat and offendit.
It can nocht faill bot thare abusioun
Affore the Throne of God it is ascendit :
I dreid, but doute, without that thay amend it,
The plaiges of Johnis Revelatioun
Sall fall upon thare generatioun.
O Lord ! quhilk hes the hartis of everilk kyng
In to thy hand, I mak thee supplication,
Convert that Court, that, of thair grace benyng,
Thay wald mak generall reformatioun
Amang thame selfis, in everilk Natioun
That thay may be ane holy exemplair
Tyll us, thy pure lawid commoun populair,
Hungrit, allace ! for falt of Spirituall fude,
Because from us bene hid the veritie.
O Prince ! quhilk sched for us thy precious blude,
Kendle in us the fyre of Charitie,
And saif us frome Eterne miseritie,
Now lauboryng in to thy Kirk Militant,
That we may, all, cum to thy Kirk Tryumphant.