Ane Pleasant Satyre of the Thrie Estaitis
Prologue
Spoken by diligence.
The Father and founder of faith and felicitie,
That your fassioun433 formed to his similitude,
And his Sone, our Saviour, scheild in necessitie,
That bocht yow from baillis434, ransonit on the Rude,
Repleadgeand435 his presonaris with his hart blude;
The Halie Gaist, governour and grounder of grace,
Of wisdome and weilfair baith fontane and flude,
Saif yow all that I sie seisit436 in this place,
And scheild yow from sinne,
And with his spreit yow inspyre,
Till I have schawin my desyre!
Silence, Soveraine, I requyre,
For now I begin.
Prudent Peopill I pray yow all
Tak na man greif in speciall,
For wee sall speik in generall,
For pastyme and for play:
Thairfoir till all our rymis be rung
And our mistoinit437 sangis be sung
Let everie man keip weill ane toung
And everie woman tway.
An Interlude of the Puir Man and the Pardoner
[Heir sall entir Pauper the puir man.
PAUPER.
Of your almis, gude folks, for God’s luife438 of heavin,
For I have motherles bairns either sax or seavin.
Gif ye’ill gif me na gude439, for the luife of Jesus
Wische440 me the richt way till Sanct-Androes.
Diligence.
Quhair haif wee gottin this gudly companzeoun?
Swyith441! out of the feild, [thow] fals raggit loun.
God wait442 gif heir be ane weill-keipit place,
Quhen sic ane vilde443 begger carle may get entres444.
Fy on yow officiars, that mends nocht thir failyies445!
I gif yow all till the Devill, baith Provost and Bailzies!
Without ye cum and chase this carle away,
The devill a word ye’is get mair of our play.
Fals huirsun, raggit carle, quhat Devil is that thou rugs446?
PAUPER.
Quha Devill, maid thee ane gentill man, that wald cut not thy lugs447?
DILIGENCE.
Quhat now! me-thinks the carle begins to crack448.
Swyith, carle, away, or be this day I’se break thy back.
[Heir sall the Carle clim up and sit in the King’s tchyre.
Cum doun, or be God’s croun, fals loun, I sall slay thee.
PAUPER.
Now sweir be thy brunt449 schinnis, the Devill ding450 thame fra thee.
Quhat say ye till thir court dastards? be451 thay get hail clais452,
Sa sune as thay leir453 to sweir and trip on thair tais.
DILIGENCE.
Me-thocht the carle callit me knave, evin in my face.
Be Sanct Fillane! thou sal be slane bot gif454 thou ask grace.
Loup455 doun, or, be the gude Lord, thow sall lose thy heid.
PAUPER.
I sall anis drink or I ga, thocht456 thou had sworne my deid457.
[Heir Diligence castis away the ledder.
DILIGENCE.
Loup now, gif thou list, for thou hes lost the ledder.
It is full weill thy kind to loup, and licht in a tedder458.
PAUPER.
Thou sall be faine to fetch agane the ledder, or I loup.
I sall sit heir into this tcheir till I have tumde459 the stoup460.
[Heir sall the Carle loup aff the scaffald.
DILIGENCE.
Swyith461! beggar, bogill462, haist thé away;
Thow art over pert to spill our Play.
PAUPER.
I will not gif, for al your Play, worth an sowis fart:
For thair is richt lytill play at my hungrie hart.
DILIGENCE.
Quhat devill ails this cruckit carle?
PAUPER.
Marie! meikill463 sorrow.
I can not get, thocht I gasp, to beg nor to borrow.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair, devill, is this thou dwels? or quhat’s thy intent?
PAUPER.
I dwell into Lawthiane, ane myle fra Tranent.
DILIGENCE.
Quhair wald thou be, carle? the suth464 to me schaw.
PAUPER.
Sir, evin to Sanct-Androes, for to seik law.
DILIGENCE.
For to seik law, in Edinburgh was the neirest way.
PAUPER.
Sir, I socht law thair this monie deir day,
Bot I culd get nane at Sessioun nor Seinzie;465
Thairfor the meikill din Devill droun all the meinzie466.
DILIGENCE.
Schaw me thy mater, man, with all the circumstances,
How that thou hes happinit on thir unhappie chances.
PAUPER.
Gude man, will ye gif me of your charitie,
And I sall declair yow the black veritie.
My father was ane auld man and ane hoir467,
And was of age fourscoir of yeirs and moir.
And Mald, my mother, was fourscoir and fyfteine,
And with my labour I did thame baith susteine.
Wee had ane meir that caryit salt and coill468,
And everie ilk469 yeir scho brocht us hame ane foill.
Wee had thrie ky470 that was baith fat and fair,
Nane tydier into the toun of Air.471
My father was sa waik of blude and bane
That he deit472, quhairfoir my mother maid great maine.
Then scho deit, within ane day or two;
And thair began my povertie and wo.
Our gude gray meir was baittand473 on the feild,
And our land’s laird tuik hir for his hyreild.474
The vickar tuik the best cow be the heid,
Incontinent, quhen my father was deid.
And quhen the vickar hard tel how that my mother
Was deid, fra hand he tuk to him ane-uther.
Then Meg, my wife, did murne baith evin and morrow,
Till at the last scho deit for verie sorrow.
And quhen the vickar hard tell my wyfe was dead
The thrid cow he cleikit475 be the heid.
Thair umest clayis476, that was of rapploch477 gray,
The vickar gart his clark bear them away.478
Quhen all was gane I micht mak na debeat,
Bot with my bairns past for till beg my meat.
Now haif I tald yow the blak veritie
How I am brocht into this miserie.
DILIGENCE.
How did the person479? was he not thy gude freind?
PAUPER.
The Devil stick him! he curst me for my teind,
And halds me yit under that same proces
That gart me want the Sacrament at Pasche.
In gude faith, Sir, thocht he wald cut my throt,
I have na geir except ane Inglis grot480,
Quhilk I purpois to gif ane man of law.
DILIGENCE.
Thou art the daftest fuill that ever I saw.
Trows481 thou, man, be the law to get remeid
Of men of Kirk! Na, nocht till thou be deid.
PAUPER.
Sir, be quhat law, tell me, quhairfoir or quhy
That ane vickar suld tak fra me thrie ky?
DILIGENCE.
Thay have na law exceptand consuetude,
Quhilk law, to them, is sufficient and gude.
PAUPER.
Ane consuetude against the common weill
Suld be na law, I think, be sweit Sanct Geill.
Quhair will ye find that law, tell gif ye can,
To tak thrie ky fra ane pure husband-man?
Ane for my father, and for my wyfe ane-uther,
And the third cow he tuke fra Mald my mother.
DILIGENCE.
It is thair law, all that thay have in use,
Thocht it be cow, sow, ganer482, gryse483, or guse.
PAUPER.
Sir, I wald speir484 at yow ane questioun.
Behauld sum prelats of this regioun—
[Here the Puir Man recites further legalised oppressions by the priesthood, but is interrupted.]
DILIGENCE.
Hald thy toung, man, it seims that thou war mangit.485
Speik thou of preists but486 doubt thou will be hangit.
PAUPER.
Be Him that buir the cruell croun of thorne,
I cair nocht to be hangit, evin the morne.
DILIGENCE.
Be sure of preistis thou will get na support.
PAUPER.
Gif that be trew the Feind resave the sort487!
Sa sen I se I get na uther grace
I will ly down and rest mee in this place.
[Heir sall the Puirman ly doun in the feild, and the Pardoner sall cum in and say.
PARDONER.
Bona dies! Bona dies!
Devoit Pepill, gude day I say yow.
Now tarie ane lytill quhyll, I pray yow,
Till I be with yow knawin.
Wat ye weill how I am namit?
Ane nobill man and undefamit,
Gif that all the suith war schawin.
I am Sir Robert Rome-raker,
Ane perfyte publike pardoner488
Admittit be the Paip.
Sirs, I sall schaw yow, for my wage,
My pardons and my pilgramage,
Quhilk ye sall se, and graip489.
I give to the Devill, with gude intent,
This unsell490 wickit New Testament,
With thame that it translaitit.
Sen layik491 men knew the veritie
Pardoners get no charitie
Without that thay debait it.
Amang the wives with wrinks492 and wyles,
As all my marrowis493, men begyles
With our fair fals flattrie.
Yea, all the crafts I ken perqueir494
As I was teichit be ane freir
Callit Hypocrisie.
Bot now, allace! our greit abusioun
Is cleirlie knawin till our confusioun,
That we may sair repent.
Of all credence now I am quyte,
For ilk man halds me at dispyte
That reids the New Test’ment.
Duill fell495 the braine that hes it wrocht!
Sa fall them that the Buik hame brocht!
Als I pray to the Rude
That Martin Luther, that fals loun496,
Black Bullinger, and Melancthoun,
Had bene smorde in thair cude497.
Be him that buir the crowne of thorne
I wald Sanct Paull had never bene borne;
And als I wald his buiks
War never red in the kirk,
Bot amangs freirs, into the mirk498,
Or riven amang ruiks!
[Heir sall he lay doun his geir upon ane buird, and say,
My patent pardouns ye may se,
Cum fra the Cane499 of Tartarie,
Weill seald with oster-schellis.
Thocht ye have na contritioun
Ye sall have full remissioun
With help of buiks and bellis.
Heir is ane relict lang and braid,
Of Fin Macoull the richt chaft blaid500,
With teith and al togidder.
Of Colling’s cow heir is ane horne,
For eating of Makconnal’s corne
Was slaine into Baquhidder.
Heir is ane coird baith great and lang
Quhilk hangit Johne the Armistrang,501
Of gude hemp, soft and sound.
Gude halie peopill, I stand for’d,
Quha-ever beis hangit with this cord
Neids never to be dround.
The culum502 of Sanct Bryd’s kow;
The gruntill503 of Sanct Antonis sow,
Quhilk buir his haly bell.
Quha-ever he be heiris this bell clinck
Gif me ane ducat for till drink;
He sall never gang504 to hell,
Without he be of Baliell505 borne.
Maisters, trow ye that this be scorne506.
Cum win this pardoun, cum.
Quha luifis thair wyfis nocht with thair hart,
I have power thame for till part.
Me-think yow deif and dum:
Hes nane of yow curst wickit wyfis
That haldis yow intill sturt507 and stryfis,
Cum tak my dispensatioun;
Of that cummer508 I sall mak yow quyte,
Howbeit your-selfis be in the wyte509,
And mak ane fals narratioun.
Cum win the pardoun, now let se,
For meill, for malt, or for monie,
For cok, hen, guse, or gryse.
Of relicts heir I haif ane hunder;
Quhy cum ye nocht? this is ane wounder:
I trow ye be nocht wyse.
[A grotesque episode is here introduced in which the Pardoner, for the price of “ane cuppill of sarks” (shirts), divorces a malcontent sowtar, or shoemaker, and his wife. Upon their despatch, east and west, the Pardoner’s boy cries from the hill.]
WILKIN.
Hoaw! Maister, hoaw! quhair ar ye now?
PARDONER.
I am heir, Wilkin widdiefow510.
WILKIN.
Sir, I have done your bidding,
For I have fund ane greit hors bane,
Ane fairer saw ye never nane,
Upon dame Flescher’s midding.
Sir, ye may gar the wyfis trow
It is ane bane of Sanct Bryd’s cow,
Gude for the fever quartane511.
Sir, will ye reull this relict weill,
All the wyfis will baith kiss and kneill
Betuixt this and Dumbartane.
PARDONER.
Quhat say thay of me in the Toun?
WILKIN.
Some sayis ye are ane verie loun,
Sum sayis Legatus Natus;
Sum sayis ye ar ane fals Saracene,
And sum sayis ye ar for certaine
Diabolus Incarnatus.
Bot keip yow fra subjectioun
Of the curst King Correctioun;
For, be ye with him fangit512,
Becaus ye ar ane Rome-raker,
Ane common publick cawsay-paker513,
But doubt ye will be hangit.
PARDONER.
Quhair sall I ludge into the toun?
WILKIN.
With gude kynde Cristiane Anderson,
Quhair ye will be weill treatit.
Gif ony limmer514 yow demands,
Scho will defend yow with hir hands,
And womanlie debait it.
Bawburdie sayis be the Trinitie
That scho sall beir yow cumpanie
Howbeit ye byde ane yeir515.
PARDONER.
Thou hes done weill, be God’s mother;
Tak ye the taine516 and I the tother,
Sa sall we mak greit cheir.
WILKIN.
I reid517 yow, speid yow heir,
And mak na langer tarie;
Byde ye lang thair, but weir518,
I dreid your weird yow warie519.
[Heir sall Pauper rise, and rax him.
PAUPER.
Quhat thing was yon that I heard crak520 and cry?
I have bene dreamand, and dreveland521 of my ky.
With my richt hand my haill bodie I saine522;
Sanct Bryd, Sanct Bryd, send me my ky againe!
I se standand yonder ane halie man,
To mak me help let me se gif he can.
Halie Maister, God speid yow, and gude morne!
PARDONER.
Welcum to me, thocht thou war at the horne!523
Cum win the pardoun, and syne I sall thé saine524.
PAUPER.
Will that pardon get me my ky againe?
PARDONER.
Carle, of thy ky I have nathing ado:
Cum win my pardon, and kis my relicts to.
[Heir sall he saine him with his relictis.
Now lowse thy pursse and lay doun thy offrand,
And thou sall have my pardoun evin fra hand.
With raipis525 and relicts I sall thé saine againe;
Of gut526 or gravell thou sall never have paine.
Now win the pardoun, limmer, or thou art lost.
PAUPER.
My haly Father, quhat wil that pardon cost?
PARDONER.
Let se quhat mony thou bearest in thy bag.
PAUPER.
I haif ane grot heir, bund into ane rag.
PARDONER.
Hes thou na uther silver bot ane groat?
PAUPER.
Gif I have mair, Sir, cum and rype527 my coat.
PARDONER.
Gif me that groat, man, gif thou hest na mair.
PAUPER.
With all my hart, Maister, lo tak it thair.
Now let me se your pardon, with your leif.
PARDONER.
Ane thousand yeir of pardons I thee geif.
PAUPER.
Ane thousand yeir! I will nocht live sa lang.
Delyver me it, Maister, and let me gang528.
PARDONER.
Ane thousand year I lay upon thy head,
With totiens quotiens: now, mak me na mair plead:
Thou hast resaifit thy pardon now already.
PAUPER.
Bot, I can se na-thing, Sir, be Our Lady.
Forsuith, Maister, I trow I be nocht wyse
To pay ere I have sene my marchandryse.
That ye have gottin my groat full sair I rew.
Sir, quhidder is your pardon black or blew?
Maister, sen ye have tain fra me my cunzie529,
My marchandryse schaw me, withouttin sunzie530;
Or to the bischop I sall pas and pleinzie531
In Sanct-Androis, and summond yow to the Seinzie532.
PARDONER.
Quhat craifis533 the carle? me-thinks thou art not wise.
PAUPER.
I craif my groat, or ellis my marchandrise.
PARDONER.
I gaif thé pardon for ane thowsand yeir.
PAUPER.
How sall I get that pardon, let me heir.
PARDONER.
Stand still and I sall tell the haill534 storie.
Quhen thow art deid, and gais to Purgatorie,
Being condempnit to paine a thowsand yeir,
Then sall thy pardoun thee releif, but weir.
Now be content, ye ar ane mervelous man.
PAUPER.
Sall I get nathing for my groat quhill than535?
PARDONER.
That sall thou not, I mak it to yow plaine.
PAUPER.
Na than, gossop, gif me my groat againe.
Quhat say ye, Maisters? call ye this gude resoun,
That he suld promeis me ane gay pardoun,
And he resave my mony, in his stead536,
Syne mak me na payment till I be dead?
Quhen I am deid I wait full sikkerlie537
My sillie538 saull will pas to Purgatorie.
Declair me this, now God nor Baliell bind thé,
Quhen I am thair, curst carle, quhair sall I find thé?
Not in heavin, but rather into hell.
Quhen thow art thair thou cannot help thy-sell.
Quhen will thou cum my dolours till abait?
Or539 I thee find my hippis will get ane hait540.
Trowis thou, butchour, that I will buy blind lambis?
Gif me my groat, the Devill dryte541 in thy gambis542!
PARDONER.
Swyith! stand abak! I trow this man be mangit543.
Thou gets not this, carle, thocht thou suld be hangit.
PAUPER.
Gif me my groat, weill bund into ane clout544,
Or, be Goddis breid545, Robin sall beir ane rout546.
[Heir sall thay fecht with silence; and Pauper sal cast down the buird, and cast the relicts in the water.
DILIGENCE.
Quhat kind of daffing547 is this al day?
Swyith, smaiks548! out of the feild, away!
Intill ane presoun put them sone,
Syne hang them, quhen the Play is done.
The Poor Man’s Mare
PAUPER.
Marie! I lent my gossop my mear, to fetch hame coills,
And he hir drounit into the querrell hollis:549
And I ran to the Consistorie, for to pleinze,
And thair I happinit amang are greidie meinze550.
Thay gave me first ane thing thay call Citandum,
Within aucht551 dayis I gat bot Lybellandum,
Within ane moneth I gat ad Opponendum,
In half ane yeir I gat Interloquendum,
And syne I gat, how call ye it? ad Replicandum:
Bot I could never ane word yit understand him.
And than thay gart me cast out many plackis552,
And gart me pay for four and twentie actis.
Bot or thay came half gait553 to Concludendum
The Feind ane plack was left for to defend him.
Thus thay postponit me twa yeir with thair traine554,
Syne, Hodie ad octo, bad me cum againe;
And than, thir ruiks, thay roupit555 wonder fast,
For sentence silver thay cryit at the last.
Of Pronunciandum thay maid me wonder faine;
Bot I got never my gude gray meir againe.