Buke Thryd

In joyowss Julii, quhen the flouris suete,
Degesteable, engenered throu the heet,
Baith erbe and froyte, busk and bewis, braid
Haboundandlye in euery slonk and slaid;
Als bestiall, thar rycht courss till endur,
Weyle helpyt ar be wyrkyn off natur,
On fute and weynge ascendand to the hycht,
Conserwed weill be the Makar of mycht;
Fyscheis in flude refeckit rialye
Till mannys fude, the warld suld occupye.
Bot Scotland sa was waistit mony day,
Throw wer sic skaith, at labour was away.
Wictaill worth scant or August coud apper,
Throu all the land, that fude was hapnyt der:
Bot Inglissmen, that richess wantyt nayne,
Be caryage brocht thair wictaill full gud wayne;
Stuffit houssis with wyn and gud wernage;
Demaynde this land as thair awne heretage;
The kynryk haile thai rewllyt at thar will.
Messyngeris than sic tithingis brocht thaim till;
And tald Persye, that Wallace leffand war,
Off his eschaip fra thar presoune in Ayr.
Thai trowit rycht weill he passit was that steid;
For Longcastell and his twa men was deid.
He trowit the chance that Wallace so was past.
In ilka part thai war gretly agast,
Throw prophesye that thai had herd befor.
Lord Persye said; “Quhat nedis wordis mor?
“Bot he be cest he sall do gret merwaill.
“It was the best for king Eduuardis awaill,
“Mycht he him get to be his steidfast man,
“For gold or land; his conquest mycht lest than.
“Me think beforce he may nocht gottyn be;
“Wyssmen the suth be his eschaip may se.”
Thus deyme [thai] him in mony diuerss cass.
We leiff thaim her, and spek furth of Wallass.
In Rycardtoun he wald no langer byde,
For freindis consaill, nor thing that mycht betide.
And quhen thai saw that it awaillit nocht,
His purposs was to wenge him, at he mocht,
On Sothron blud, quhilk has his eldris slayne.
Thai latt him wyrk his awn will in to playne.
Schir Richart had thre sonnys, as I yow tald.
Adam, Rychart, and Symont that was bald.
Adam, eldest, was growand in curage;
Forthward, rycht fayr, auchtene yer of age;
Large off persone; bath wiss, worthi and wicht:
Gude king Robert in his tyme maid him knycht.
Lang tyme eftir in Brucis weris he baid,
On Inglissmen moné gud iorné maid.
This gud squier with Wallace bound to ryd;
And Robert Boid, quhilk wald no langar bide
Vndir thrillage of segis of Ingland.
To that falss king he had neuir maid band.
Kneland was thar, ner cusyng to Wallace,
Syne baid with him in mony peralouss place;
And Eduuard Litill, his sistir sone so der;
Full weill graithit in till thar armour cler.

With thar serwandis fra Ricardtoun thai raid
To Mawchtlyne mur, and schort tyme thar abaid;
For freindis thaim tauld, was bound wndir trewage,
That Fenweik was for Perseys caryage:
With in schort tyme he will bryng it till Ayr
Out off Carleile; he had resawyt it thair.
That plesyt Wallace in his hart gretumlye;
Wytt yhe thai war a full glaid cumpanye.
Towart Lowdoun thai bownyt thaim to ride;
And in a schaw, a litill thar besyde,
Thai lugyt thaim, for it was nere the nycht,
To wache the way als besyly as thai mycht.
A trew Scot, quhilk hosteler houss thair held,
Wnder Lowdon, as myn autor me teld,
He saw thar come, syne went to thaim in hye;
Baithe meite and drynk he brocht full priwalye:
And to thaim tald the cariage in to playn;
Thair forrydar was past till Ayr agayne,
Left thaim to cum with pouer of gret waille,
Thai trowit be than thai war in Awendaille.
Wallace than said, we will nocht soiorne her,
Nor change no weid, bot our ilk dayis ger.
At Corssentoun the gait was spilt that tide;
For thi that way behowid thaim for to ride.
And fra the tyme that he of presoune four,
Gude souir weide dayly on him he wour:
Gude lycht harness, fra that tyme, wsyt he cuir;
For sodeyn stryff, fra it he wald nocht seuir.
A habergione vndyr his goune he war,
A steylle capleyne in his bonet but mar;
His glowis of plait in claith war couerit weill,
In his doublet a closs coler of steyle;
His face he kepit, for it was euir bar,
With his twa handis, the quhilk full worthi war,
In to his weid, and he come in a thrang:
Was na man than on fute mycht with him gang.
So growane in pith, off pouer stark and stur,
His terryble dyntis war awfull till endur.
Thai trast mar in Wallace him allane,
Than in a hundreth mycht be off Ingland tayne.
The worthi Scottis maid thar no soiornyng,
To Lowdoun hill past in [the] gray dawyng;
Dewysyt the place, and putt thair horss thaim fra;
And thocht to wyn, or neuir thin to ga:
Send twa skowrrouris to wesy weyll the playne;
Bot thai rycht sone raturnde in agayne,
To Wallace tald that thai war cummand fast.
Than thai to grounde all kneland at the last,
With humyll hartis prayit with all thair mycht,
To God abowne to help thaim in thar rycht.
Than graithit thai thaim till harnes hastely
Thar sonyeit nane of that gud chewalrye.
Than Wallace said; “Her was my fadyr slayne;
“My brothyr als, quhilk dois me mekill payne;
“So sall my selff, or wengit be but dreid.
“The traytour is her, [the] causs was off that deid.”
Than hecht thai all to bide with hartlye will.
Be that the power was takand Lowdounhill.
The knycht Fenweik conwoide the caryage;
He had on Scottis maid mony schrewide wiage.
The sone was rysyne our landis schenand brycht.
The Inglissmen so thai come to the hycht;
Ner thaim he raid, and sone the Scottis saw.
He tald his men, and said to thaim on raw;
“Yhonne is Wallace, that chapit our presoune;
“He sall agayne be drawyn throu the toune.
“His hede mycht mar I wait, weill pless the king,
“Than gold, or land, or ony warldly thing.”
He gart serwandes bide with the cariage still;
Thai thocht to dawnt the Scottis at thar will.
Nyne scor he led in harnes burnyst brycht;
And fyfty was with Wallace in the rycht.
Vnraboytyt the Sothroun was in wer;
And fast thai cum, fell awfull in affer.
A maner dyk, off stanys thai had maid,
Narrowyt the way quhar throuch thai thikar raid.
The Scottis on fute tuk the feld thaim befor;
The Sothroun saw thar curage was the mor.
In prydefull ire thai thoucht our thaim to ryde;
Bot othyr wyss it hapnyt in that tide.
On athir side to giddyr fast thai glaid;
The Scottis on fute gret rowme about thaim maid,
With ponyeand speris throuch platis prest of steylle;
The Inglissmen, that thoucht to weng thaim weylle,
On harnest horss about thaim rudely raide;
That with wness wpone thar feit thai baid.
Wallace the formast in the byrneis bar;
The grounden sper throuch his body schar.
The shafft to schonkit off the fruschand tre;
Dewoydyde sone, sen na bettir mycht be.
Drew suerdis syne, bathe hewy, scharp and lang;
On athyr syd full cruelly thai dang.
Fechtand at anys in to that felloune dout,
Than Inglissmen enverond thaim about;
Beforce etlyt throuch out thaim for to ryde.
The Scottis, on fute that baldly couth abyde,
With suerdis schar throuch habergeons full gude,
Vpon the flouris schot the schonkan blude,
Fra horss and men throw harness burnyst beyne.
A sair sailyie forsuth thair mycht be seyne:
Thai traistyt na lyff bot the lettir end.
Off sa few folk gret nobilness was kend,
To gydder baid defendand thaim full fast;
Durst nane seuer quhill the maist press was past.
The Inglissmen, that besye was in wer,
Beforss ordand in sondyr thaim to ber.
Thair cheyff chyftan feryt als ferss as fyr,
Throw matelent, and werray propyr ire;
On a gret horss, in till his glitterand ger,
In fewtir kest a fellone aspre sper
The knycht Fenweik, that cruell was and keyne;
He had at dede off Wallace fadyr beyne,
And his brodyr that douchty was and der.
Quhen Wallace saw that falss knycht was so ner,
His corage grew in ire as a lyoune.
Till him he ran, and fell frekis bar he doune;
As he glaid by, aukwart he couth hym ta,
The and arson in sondyr gart he ga.
Fra the coursour he fell on the fer syd;
With a staff suerd Boyd stekit him that tyde.
Or he was dede, the gret press come so fast,
Our him to grounde thai bur Boyd at the last.
Wallace was ner, and ratornde agayne
Hym to reskew, till that he raiss off payne;
Wichtly him wor, quhill he a suerd had tayne.
Throu out the stour thir twa in feyr ar gayne.
The ramanand apon thaim folowit fast;
In thar passage fell Sothron maid agast.
Adam Wallace, the ayr off Ricardtoun,
Straik ane Bewmound, a squier of renoun,
On the pyssan, with his hand burnyst bar,
The thrusande blaid his halss in sonder schayr.
The Inglissmen, thocht thar chyftayn was slayne,
Bauldly thai baid, as men mekill off mayn.
Reth horss repende rouschede frekis wndir feit;
The Scottis on fute gert mony loiss the suete.
Wicht men lichtyt thaim selff for to defend;
Quhar Wallace come thar deide was litill kend.
The Sothroune part so frusched was that tide,
That in the stour thai mycht no langar bide.
Wallace in deide he wrocht so worthely,
The squier Boid, and all thair chewalry,
Litill, Kneland, gert off thair enemyss de.
The Inglissmen tuk playnly part to fle;
On horsis some, to strenthis part, can found
To socour thaim, with mony werkand wound.
A hundreth dede in feild was lewyt thar,
And thre yemen that Wallace menyde fer mar;
Twa was off Kyle, and ane of Conyngayme,
With Robert Boide to Wallace com fra hayme.
Four scor fled, that chapyt on the south syde.
The Scottis, in place that bauldly couth abyde,
Spoilyed the feld, gat gold and othir ger,
Harnes and horss, quhilk thai mysteryt in wer.
The Ingliss knawis thai gart thar caryage leid
To Clidis forest: quhen thai war out off dreid,
Thai band thaim fast with wedeis sad and sar,
On bowand treis hangyt thaim rycht thar.
He sparyt nane that abill was to wer;
Bot wemen and preystis he gart thaim ay forber.
Quhen this was doyne, to thar dyner thai went,
Off stuff and wyne that God had to thaim sent.
Ten scor thai wan of horss that cariage bure;
With flour and wyne als mekill as thai mycht fur,
And othir stuff that thai off Carleile led.

The Sothron part out off the feild that fled,
With sorow socht to the castell off Ayr,
Befor the lord, and tauld him off thair cair;
Quhat gud thai lost, and quha in feild was slayne,
Throw wicht Wallace that was mekill off mayne;
And how he had gart all thar serwandis hang.
The Persye said; “And that squier lest lang,
“He sall ws exille out off this contré cleyne;
“Sa dispitfull in wer was neuir seyne.
“In our presoune her last quhen that he was,
“Our slouthfully our keparis leit him pass.
“Thus stuff our land, I fynde may nocht weill be;
“We mon ger bryng our wittaill be the se.
“Bot loss our men, it helpis ws rycht nocht;
“Thar kyne may ban that euir we hydder socht.”
Lat I thaim thus, blamand thar sory chance,
And mar to sper of Scottis mennys gouernance.
Quhen Wallace had weyle wenquist to the playne
The falss terand that had his fadyr slayne;
His brothyr als, quhilk was a gentill knycht,
Othir gud men befor to dede thai dycht;
He gert dewyss, and prowide thar wictaille;
Baith stuff and horss that was of gret awaille,
To freyndis about preualye thai send,
The ramanand full glaidlye thar thai spend.
In Clydis wode thai soiornyt twenty dayis,
Na Sothren that tyme was persawyt in thai wais,
Bot he tholyt dede that come in thar danger:
The worde of him walkit baith fer and ner.
Wallace was knawin on lyff leyffand in playne,
Thocht Inglissmen tharoff had gret payne.
The erle Persye to Glaskow couth he fair,
With wyss lordis, and held a consell thair.
Quhen thai war mett, weylle ma na ten thousand,
Na chyftane was that tyme durst tak on hand,
To leide the range on Wallace to assaill.
He speryt about, quhat was the best consaill.
Schir Amar Wallange, a falss traytour strange,
In Bothwell duelt, and thar was thaim amange.
He said; “My lorde, my consaill will I giff;
“Bot ye do it, fra scaith ye may nocht scheyff.
“Yhe mon tak pess, with out mar tarying,
“As for a tyme we may send to the king.”
The Persye said; ‘Of owr trewis he will nane.
‘Ane awfull chyftane trewly he is ane;
‘He will do mair, in faith, or that he blyne:
‘Sothroun to sla he thinkis it na syne.’
Schir Amar said; “Trewis it wordis tak;
“Quhill eft for him prowisioune we may mak.
“I knaw he will do mekill for his kyne;
“Gentryss and trewtht ay restis him within.
“His wncle Schyr Ranald may mak this band.
“Gyff he will nocht, racunnyss all his land
“On to the tym that he this werk haiff wrocht.”
Schir Ranald was sone to that consell brocht;
Thai chargyt him to mak Wallace at pess,
Or he suld pass to Londone with outyn less.
Schir Ranald said; “Lordis, yhe knaw this weill,
“At my commande he will nocht do a deill.
“His worthi kyn dispitously ye slew,
“In presone syne ner to the dede him threw.
“He is at large, and will nocht do for me,
“Thocht ye tharfor rycht now suld ger me de.”
Schir Amar said; ‘Thir lordis sone sall send
‘On to the king, and mak a finall end
‘Off his conquest, forsuth he will it haiff.
‘Wallace na thou ma nocht this kynrik saiff.
‘Mycht Eduuard king get him, for gold or land,
‘To be his man, than suld he bruk Scotland.’
The lordis bad cess; “Thow excedis to that knycht
“Fer mair be treuth than it is ony rycht.
“The wrang conquest our king desiris ay;
“On hym or vs it sall be seyne some day.
“Wallace has rycht, bathe force and fair fortoun:
“Ye hard how he eschapyt our presoune.”
Thus said that lord, syne prayit Schyr Ranald fair
To mak this pess; “Thou schirreff art of Ayr.
“As for a tyme we may awisit be:
“Vndyr my seylle I sall be bound to the
“For Inglissmen, that thai sall do him nocht,
“Nor to no Scottis, less it be on thaim socht.”
Schir Ranald wist he mycht thaim nocht ganestand;
Off lord Persye he has resauit this band.
Perseys war trew, and ay off full gret waill,
Sobyr in pess, and cruell in battaill.
Schir Ranald bownyde vpon the morne but baid,
Wallace to seke in Clydis forest braid.
So he him fand bownand to his dyner.
Quhen thai had seyne this gud knycht was so ner,
Weyle he him knew, and tauld thaim quhat he was;
Meruaille he had quhat gart him hiddyr pass,
Maide him gud cheyr of meyttis fresche and fyne.
King Eduuardis self could nocht get bettir wyn
Than thai had thar, warnage and wenysoune
Off bestiall in to full gret fusioun.
Syn eftir mett, he schew thaim of hys deide,
How he had beyne in to so mekill dreid.
“Now,” he said, “wyrk part of my consaill;
“Tak pess a quhill, as for the mair awaill.
“Bot thou do so, forsuth thou dois gret syne,
“For thai ar set till wndo all thi kyn.”
Than Wallace said till gud men him about;
‘I will no pess for all this felloune dout,
‘Bot gif it pless bettir to yow than me.’
The squier Boide him ansuerd sobyrlé;
“I gif conseill, or this gud knycht be slayne,
“Tak pess a quhill, supposs it do ws payne.”
So said Adam the ayr of Rycardtoune;
And Kneland als grantyt to thair opynyoun.
With thair consent Wallace this pess has tayne,
As his eyme wrocht, till ten moneth war gayne.
Thar leyff thai tuk, with conforde into playn;
Sanct Jhone to borch thai suld meyt haill agayn,
Boyde and Kneland past to thar placis hayme;
Adam Wallace to Ricardtoun by nayme;
And Wilyham furth till Schir Ranald can ride,
And his houshald, in Corsby for to bide.
This peess was cryede in August moneth myld:
Yhet god of battaill furius and wild,
Mars, and Juno ay dois thair besynes,
Causer of wer, wyrkar of wykitnes;
And Venus als the goddess of luff,
Wytht ald Saturn, his coursis till appruff.
Thir four scansyte of diuerss complexioun,
Bataill debaite, inwy and destructioun,
I can nocht deyme for thar malancoly.
Bot Wallace weille coude nocht in Corsby ly,
Hym had leuir in trauaill for to be;
Rycht sar he langyt the toune of Ayr to se.

Schir Ranald past fra hame apon a day.
Fyfteyne he tuk, and to the toune went thai;
Couerit his face, that no man mycht him knaw:
Nothing him roucht how few ennymyis him saw.
In souir weide disgysyt weill war thai.
Ane Inglissman, on the gait, saw he play
At the scrymmagis a bukler on his hand.
Wallace ner by in falouschipe couth stand.
Lychtly he sperde; “Quhi, Scot, dar thow nocht preiff?”
Wallace said; ‘Ya, sa thow wald gif me leiff.’
“Smyt on,” he said, “I defy thine actioune.”
Wallace tharwith has tane him on the croune,
Throuch bukler, hand, and the harnpan also,
To the schulderis, the scharp suerd gert he go.
Lychtly raturnd till his awne men agayne.
The wemen cryede; “Our bukler player is slaine.”
The man was dede; quhat nedis wordis mair?
Feille men of armys about him semblit thair,
Sewyn scor at anys agayne sextene war sett:
Bot Wallace sone weill with the formest mett,
With ire and will on the hede has him tayne,
Throuch the brycht helm in sondyr bryst the bayne.
Ane othir braithly on the breyst he bar;
His burnyst blaid throuch out the body schar.
Gret rowme he maid, his men war fechtand fast;
And mony a growme thai maid full sair agast:
For thai war wicht, and weill wsyt in wer;
Off Inglissmen rycht bauldly doun thai ber.
On thair enemyss gret martirdome thai maik,
Thar hardy chiftane so weill couth wndyrtak,
Quhat Inglissman, that baid in till his gait,
Contrar Scotland maid neuir mar debait.
Felle frekis on fold war fellyt wndyr feit;
Off Sothroune blude lay stekit in the streit.
New pouir come fra the castell that tyde:
Than Wallace drede, and drew towart a side.
With gude will he wald escheu a suppriss;
For he in wer was besy, wicht and wiss.
Harness and hedis he hew in sonderys fast;
Beforce out off the thikest preyss thai past.
Wallace raturnyde behynde his men agayne,
At the reskew feile enemyss hass he slayne.
His men all samyn he out off perill brocht,
Fra his enymyss, for all the pouer thai mocht.
To thar horss thai wan but mair abaide;
For danger syne to Laglyne wode thai raid.
Twenty and nyne thai left in to that steide,
Off Sothroun men that bertynit war to dede.
The ramaynand agayne turnyt that tide;
For in the woode thai durst nocht him abyde.
Towart the toune thai drew with all thair mayn,
Cursand the pess thai tuk befor in playne.
The lord Persye in hart was gretlye grewyt.
His men supprisyt agayne to him relewyt;
And feille war dede in to thair armour cler,
Thre of his kyne that war till him full der.
Quhen he hard tell of thair gret grewance,
Thar selff was causs of this myschefull chance,
Murnyng he maid, thoucht few Scottis it kend.
A herald than to Schyr Ranald he send,
And tald till him of all thair sodeyne cass;
And chargyt him tak souerté of Wallas,
He suld him kepe fra merket toune or fair,
Quhar he mycht best be out of thair repair.
The Sothroun wist that it was wicht Wallace,
Had thaim our set in to that sodand cass:
Thair trewis for this thai wald nocht brek adeill.
Quhen Wallace had this chance eschewit weill,
Vpon the nycht fra Lagleyne hayme he raid;
In chaumeris sone thair residence thai maid.
Vpon the morn, quhen that the day was lycht,
Wicht Wallace went with Schyr Ranald. The knycht
Schew him the wryt lord Persie had him sent.
“Deir sone,” he said, “this war my haile entent,
“That thow wald grant, quhill thir trewis war worne,
“Na scaith to do till Inglissman that is born;
“Bot quhar I pass dayly thou bid with me.”
Wallace ansuerd; ‘Gud Schyr, that may nocht be.
‘Rycht laith I war, deyr wncle, you to greiff;
‘I sall do nocht till tyme I tak my leyff,
‘And warn you als or that I fra you pass.’
His eyme and he thus weill accordyt was.
Wallace with him maid his continuance;
Ilk wicht was blyth to do till him plesance.
In Corsby thus he resyd thaim amang
Thai sextene dayis, suppos him thoucht it lang.
Thocht thai mycht pless him as a prince or king,
In his mynde yit remanyt ane othir thing.
He saw his enemys maistris in this regioune,
Mycht nocht him pless thocht he war king with croune.
Thus leyff [I] him with his der freyndis still;
Off Inglissmen of sumpart spek I will.