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And kest him in his awin dungeoun,
Allane withouttin feir,
As full weill worthy weir.
Syne brak the bour, had hame the Bricht, 16
Unto hir Fadir deir.
That he behuvit17 to de.
His sark was all bludy;
So peteouss for to se!
The Lady murnyt, and maid grit mone,
With all hir mekle micht: “I luvit nevir lufe, bot one,
That dulfully now is dicht! God sen my lyfe wer fra me tone,
Or I had sene yone ficht; Or ellis in begging evir to gone
Furth with yone curtass Knycht.”
He said, “Fair Lady now mone I
De,19 trestly20 ye me trow:
And hing it forrow yow.
Quhen men cumis yow to wow.”21
Thairto I make a vow."
Quhen that scho lukit to the serk,
Scho thocht on the persoun:
That lowsd hir of bandoun : 23
16 bright, fair; i. e., the Lady. 20 truly.
"bog che Lady
Quhair scho was wont to sit full merk24
In that deip dungeoun:
That wass hir a lessoun.
So weill the Lady luvit the Knycht,
That no man wald scho tak. So suld we do our God of micht
That did all for us mak;
For sinfull manis saik.
With prayaris. to him mak,
This King is lyk the Trinitie
Baith in hevin and heir.
The Gyane to Lucefeir.
And cofta? our synnis deir: The pit to hell, with panis fell;
The26 syn to the woweir. 28
The Lady was wowd, but scho said “Nay”
With men that wald hir wed; Sa suld we wryth29 all syn away,
That in our breist is bred. I pray to Jesu Chryst verrey
For us his blud that bled, To be our help on Domysday,
Quhair lawis ar straitly led.
The saule30 is Godis dochtir deir,
And eik his handewerk,
Quha sittis in hell, full merk. 2 joyful.
28 "The" is superfluous.
24 dark. 28 wooer.
27 bought. 30 soul.
Borrowit31 with Chrystis angell cleir,
Hend32 men! will ye nocht herk?
Think on the Bludy Serk!
WILLIAM DUNBAR (1460?–1520?]
6 TO A LADYE
Swet rois of vertew and of gentilness,
Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear,
And everie vertew that is (esteemèd] deer, Except onlie that ye ar mercyless.
Into your garth this day I did persew;
Baith quhyte and reid most lusty wer to seyne,
And halesome herbis upon stalkis grene; Yet leaf nor flowr fynd could I nane of rew.
I dout that Merche, with his cauld blastis keyne, Has slain this gentil herbe, that I of mene,
Quhois piteous death dois to my heart sic paine
That I wald mak to plant his root againeSo confortand his levis unto me bene. a redeemed.
JOHN SKELTON (1460?-1529]
TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY
(From A GARLANDE OF LAURELL.
ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH POPULAR
8 SIR PATRICK SPENS
Drinking the blude-reid wine:
To sail this schip of mine?”
Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the kings richt kne:
That sails upon the se.”
The king has written a braid letter,
And signd it wi his hand,
Was walking on the sand.
The first line that Sir Patrick red,
A loud lauch lauchèd he;
The teir blinded his ee.
“O wha is this has don this deid,
This ill deid don to me,
To sail upon the se!
“Mak hast, mak haste, my mirry men all,
Our guid schip sails the morne:” “O say na sae, my master deir,
For I feir a deadlie storme.
“Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi the auld moone in hir arme,
That we will cum to harme.”