fell far short of those effected in the literature of [Housewifely Physic.]

their southern neighbours. The most eminent of Good huswife provides, ere a sickness do come,

these writers was Sir DAVID LYNDSAY, born about Of sundry good things in her house to have some. 1490, who, after serving King James V., when that Good aqia composita, and vinegar tart,

monarch was a boy, as sewer, carver, cup-bearer, Rose-water, and treacle, to comfort thine heart. purse-master, chief cubicular; in short, everything Cold herbs in her garden, for agues that burn, -bearing him as an infant upon his back, and That over-strong heat to good temper may turn. dancing antics for his amusement as a boy-was White endive, and succory, with spinach enow; appointed to the important office of Lord Lyon King All such with good pot-herbs, should follow the at Arms, and died about the year 1555. He chiefly plough.

shone as a satirical and humorous writer, and his great Get water of fumitory, liver to cool,

fault is an entire absence of that spirit of refinement And others the like, or else lie like a fool.

which graced the contemporary literature of EngConserves of barbary, quinces, and such,

land. The principal objects of Lyndsay's vituperaWith sirops, that easeth the sickly so much.

tions were the clergy, whose habits at this period Ask Medicus' counsel, ere medicine ye take,

(just before the Reformation) were such as to afford And honour that nian for necessity's sake.

unusually ample scope for the pen of the satirist. Though thousands hate physic, because of the cost, Our poet, also, although a state officer, and long a Yet thousands it helpeth, that else should be lost. servant to the king, uses little delicacy in exposing Good broth, and good keeping, do much now and than: the abuses of the court. His chief poems are placed Good diet, with wisdoin, best comforteth man. in the following succession by his editor, Mr George In health, to be stirring shall profit thee best ; Chalmers :The Dreme, written about 1528; The In sickness, bate trouble; seek quiet and rest. Complaynt, 1529; The Complaynt of the Kiny's Remember thy soul ; let no fancy prevail ;

Papingo (Peacock), 1530; The Play (or Satire) of Make ready to God-ward ; let faith never quail : the Three Estates, 1535; Kitteis Confession, 1541; The sooner thyself thou submittest to God,

The History of Squire Meldrum, 1550; The MoThe sooner he ceaseth to scourge with his rod. narchie, 1553. The three first of these poems are

moralisings upon the state and government of the [Morul Reflections on the Wind.]

kingdom, during two of its dismal minorities. The

Play is an extraordinary performance, a satire upon Though winds do rage, as winds were wood, the whole of the three political orders—monarch, And cause spring-tides to raise great flood; barons, and clergy-full of humour and grossness, And lofty ships leave anchor in mud,

and curiously illustrative of the taste of the times. Bereaving many of life and of blood;

Notwithstanding its satiric pungency, and, what is Yet, true it is, as cow chews cud,

apt to be now more surprising, notwithstanding the And trees, at spring, doth yield forth bud, introduction of indecencies not fit to be described, Except wind stands as never it stood,

the Satire of the Three Estutes was acted in preIt is an ill wind turns none to good.

sence of the court, both at Cupar and Edinburgh,

the stage being in the open air. Kitteis Confession SIR DAVID LYNDSAY.

is a satire on one of the practices of Roman Catho

lics. By his various burlesques of that party, he is While Surrey and Wyatt were imparting fresh said to have largely contributed to the progress of beauties to English poetry, Dunbar and his contem- the Reformation in Scotland. The History of Squire

Meldrum is perhaps the most pleasing of all this author's works. It is considered the last poem that in any degree partakes of the character of the metrical romance.

Of the dexterity with which Lyndsay could point a satirical remark on an error of state policy, we may judge from the following very brief passage of his Compluynt, which relates to the too early committal of the government to James V. It is given in the original spelling.

Imprudently, like witles fules,
Thay tuke the young prince from the scules,
Quhere he, under obedience,
Was learnund vertew and science,
And hastilie pat in his hand
The governance of all Scotland :
As quha wald, in ane stormie blast,
Quhen marinaris been all agast,
Throw danger of the seis rage,
Wald tak anc child of tender age,
Quhilk never had bin on the sey,
And gar his bidding all obey,
Geving him hail the governall,
To ship, marchand, and marinall,
For dreid of rockis and foir land,
To put the ruthir in his hand.

I give them to
Sir David Lyndsay.

Qubilk first devisit that counsell;

I will nocht say that it was treskoun, poraries were succeeded in Scotland by several poets

But I dar sweir it was na ressoun. of considerable talent, whose improvements, however,

1 pray God lat me never see ring
1 Mac
Into this realme sa young ane king.



Of tails I will no more indite,
[A Carman's Account of a Law-suit.] For dread some duddron! me despite :
Marry, I lent my gossip my mare, to fetch hame coals, Notwithstanding, I will conclude,
And he ber drounit into the

That of side tails can come nae gude,
holes ;

quarry And I ran to the consistory, for to pleinyie,

Sider nor may their ankles hide, And there I happenit amang ane greedie meinyie. The remanent proceeds of pride, They gave me first ane thing they call citandum ; And pride proceeds of the devil, Within aucht days I gat but libellandum;

Thus alway they proceed of evil. Within ane month I gat ad opponendum;

Ane other fault, Sir, may be seen, In half ane year I gat inter-loquendum,

They hide their face all bot the een ; And syne I gat—how call ye it bad replicandum;

When gentlemen bid them gude day, Bot I could never ane word yet understand him :

Without reverence they slide away. And then they gart me cast out mony placks, Without their faults be soon amended, And gart me pay for four-and-twenty acts.

My flyting, 2 Sir, shall never be ended ; Bot or they came half gate to concludendum,

But wald your grace my counsel tak, The fiend ane plack was left for to defend him.

Ane proclamation ye should mak, Thus they postponed me twa year with their train,

Baith through the land and burrowstouns, Syne, hodie ad octo, bade me come again :

To shaw their face and cut their gowns. And then thir rooks they rowpit wonder fast

Women will say, this is nae bourds, 3 For sentence, silver, they cryit at the last.

To write sic vile and filthy words ; Of pronunciandum they made me wonder fain,

But wald they clenge their filthy tails, Bot I gat never my gude grey mare again.

Whilk over the mires and middings trails,

Then should my writing clengit be, Supplication in Contemption of Side Tails.? None other mends they get of me. (1538.)

Quoth Lindsay, in contempt of the side tails, Sovereign, I mean? of thir side tails,

That duddrons and duntibours through the dubs trails Whilk through the dust and dubs trails, Three quarters lang behind their heels,

[The Building of the Tower of Babel, and Express again' all commonweals.

Confusion of Tongues.] Though bishops, in their pontificals,

(From the Monarchie.) Have men for to bear up their tails, For dignity of their office;

Their great fortress then did they found, Richt so ane queen or ane emprice ;

And cast till they gat sure ground. Howbeit they use sic gravity,

All fell to work both man and child, Conformand to their majesty,

Some howkit clay, some burnt the tyld. Though their robe-royals be upborne,

Nimron, that curious champion, I think it is ane very scorn,

Deviser was of that dungeon. That every lady of the land

Nathing they spared their labours, Should have her tail so side trailand;

Like busy bees upon the flowers, Howbeit they been of high estate,

Or emmets travelling into June; The queen they should not counterfeit.

Some under wrocht, and some aboon,

With strang ingenious masonry, Wherever they go it may be seen

Upward their wark did fortify; How kirk and causay they soop clean.

The land about was fair and plain, The images into the kirk

And it rase like ane heich montane. May think of their side tails irk ;4

Those fulish people did intend, For when the weather been maist fair,

That till the heaven it should ascend : The dust fies highest into the air,

Sae great ane strength was never seen And all their faces does begary,

Into the warld with men's een. Gif they could speak, they wald them wary.

The wallis of that wark they made, But I have maist into despite

Twa and fifty fathom braid: Poor claggocks5 clad in Raploch white,

Ane fathom then, as some men says, Whilk has scant twa merks for their fees,

Micht been twa fathom in our days ; Will have twa ells beneath their knees.

Ane man was then of mair stature
Kittock that cleckit6 was yestreen,

Nor twa be now, of this be sure.
The morn, will counterfeit the queen.
In barn nor byre she will not bide,

The translator of Orosius
Without her kirtle tail be side.

Intil his chronicle writes thus ; In burghs, wanton burgess wives

That when the sun is at the hicht, Wha may have sidest tails strives,

At noon, when it doth shine maist bricht, Weel bordered with velvet fine,

The shadow of that hideous strength But followand them it is ane pyne :

Sax mile and mair it is of length: In summer, when the streets dries,

Thus may ye judge into your thocht, They raise the dust aboon the skies ;

Gif Babylon be heich, or nocht. Nane may gae near them at their ease,

Then the great God omnipotent, Without they cover mouth and neese.

To whom all things been present, I think maist pane after ane rain,

He seeand the ambition, To see them tuckit up again;

And the prideful presumption, Then when they step furth through the street,

How thir proud people did pretend, Their fauldings flaps about their feet;

Up through the heavens till ascend, They waste mair claith, within few years,

Sic languages on them he laid, Nor wald cleid fifty score of freirs.

That nane wist what ane other said;

Where was but ane language afore, 1 Company. 9 The over-long skirts of the ladies' dresace

God send them languages three score ; of those days 8 Complain. . May feel annoyed 6 Draegle-tails.

1 Sant


6 Born


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Afore that time all spak Hebrew,

How might I do to get a graff Then some began for to speak Grew,

Of this unspotted tree? Some Dutch, some language Saracen,

For all the rest are plain but chaff And some began to speak Latin.

Which seem good corn to be. The maister men gan to ga wild,

This gift alone I shall her give: Cryand for trees, they brocht them tyli.

When Death doth what he can, Some said, Bring mortar here at ance,

Her honest fame shall ever live
Then brocht they to them stocks and stanes ;

Within the mouth of man.
And Nimrod, their great champion,
Ran ragand like ane wild lion,
Menacing them with words rude,

Amantium Iræ amoris redintegratio est.
But never ane word they understood.

(By Richard Edwards, a court musician and poet, 1523-1566.] for final conclusion, Constrained were they for till depart,

In going to my naked bed, as one that would have Ilk company in ane sundry airt.

slept, I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before had

wept. MISCELLANEOUS PIECES OF THE PERIOD 1400-1558. She sighed sore, and sang full sweet, to bring the

babe to rest. A few pieces of the reigns of Henry VIII. and That would not cease, but cried still, in sucking at Edward VI., some of which are by uncertain authors,

her breast. may be added, as further illustrative of the literary She was full weary of her watch, and grieved with history of that period. The first two are amongst

her child, the earliest verses in which the metaphysical re- She rocked it, and rated it, until on her it smild; finements, so notable in the subsequent period, are Then did she say, 'Now have I found the proverb true observable.

to prove,

The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of A Praise of his (the Poet's) Lady.

love.' Give place, you ladies, and be gone.

Then took I paper, pen, and ink, this proverb for to Boast not yourselves at all !

write, For here at hand approacheth one,

In register for to remain of such a worthy wight. Whose face will stain you all !

As she proceeded thus in song unto her little brat, The virtue of her lively looks

Much matter utter'd she of weight in place whereas Excels the precious stone:

she sat; I wish to have none other books

And proved plain, there was no beast, nor creature To read or look upon.

bearing life,

Could well be known to live in love without discòrd In each of her two crystal eyes

and strife : Smileth a naked boy:

Then kissed she her little babe, and sware by God It would you all in heart suffice

above, To see that lamp of joy.

‘The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of I think Nature hath lost the mould,

Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt if Nature could

'I marvel much, pardie,' quoth she, 'for to behold So fair a creature make.

the rout, She may be well compared

To see man, woman, boy, and beast, to toss the world Unto the phenix kind,

about; Whose like was never seen nor Leard, Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and That any man can find.

some can smoothly smile,
In life she is Diana chaste,

And some embrace others in arms, and there think
In troth Penelope,
In word and eke in deed steadfast:

Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble, and
What will you more we say!

some stout,

Yet are they never friends indeed until they once fall Her roseal colour comes and goes

out.' With such a comely grace,

Thus ended she her song, and said, before she did More ruddier too than doth the rose,

remove, Within her lively face.

"The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of

At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet,
Ne at no wanton play ;

[Characteristic of an Englishman.)
Nor gazing in an open street,
Nor gadding as a stray.

[By Andrew Bourd, physician to Henry VIII. The lines

form an inscription under the picture of an Englishman, naked, The modest mirth that she doth use

with a roll of cloth in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the Is mix'd with shamefac'dness ;

All vice she doth wholly refuse,
And hateth idleness.

I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here,

Musing in my mind what garment I shall wear, O Lord, it is a world to see

For now I will wear this, and now I will wear that,
How virtue can repair,

Now I will wear I cannot tell what :
And deck in her such honesty

All new fashions be pleasant to me,
Whom Nature made so fair!

I will have them whether I thrive or thee :
Truly she doth as far exceed

Now I am a fisher, all men on me look
Our women now-a-days,

What should I do but set cock on the hoop?
As doth the gilly flower a weed,

What do I care if all the world me fail,
And more a thousand ways.
I will have a garment reach to my tail.

many a wile.

Then I am a minion, for I wear the new guise,
The next year after I hope to be wise-
Not only in wearing my gorgeous array,
For I will go to learning a whole summer's day;
I will learn Latin, Hebrew, Greek, and French,
And I will learn Dutch sitting on my bench.
I do fear no man, each man feareth me;
I overcome my adversaries by land and by sea :
I had no peer if to myself I were true;
Because I am not so diverse times do I rue:
Yet I lack nothing, I have all things at will,
If I were wise and would hold myself still,
And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining,
But ever to be true to God and my king.
But I have such matters rolling in my pate,
That I will and do I cannot tell what.
No man shall let me, but I will have my mind,
And to father, mother, and friend, I'll be unkind.
I will follow mine own mind and mine old trade:
Who shall let me! The devil's nails are unpared.
Yet above all things new fashions I love well,
And to wear then my thrift I will sell.
In all this world I shall have but a time:
Hold the cup, good fellow, here is thine and mine!

Sue.--Now sith that ye have showed to me

The secret of your mind,
I shall be plain to you again,

Like as ye shall me find.
Sith it is so that ye will go,

I will not live behind ; Shall never be said, the Nut-Brown Maid

Was to her love unkind :
Make you ready, for so am I,

Although it were anon ;
For in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
He.-I counsel you, remember how

It is no maiden's law
Nothing to doubt, but to run out

To wood with an outlàw;
For ye must there in your hand bear

A bow, readý to draw;
And as a thief, thus must you live,

Ever in dread and awe.
Whereby to you great harm might grow :

Yet had I lever than,
That I had to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.

The Nut-Brown Maid.

[Regarding the date and author of this piece no certainty exists. Prior, who founded his Henry and Emma upon it, fixes its date about 1400 ; but others, judging from the comparatively modern language of it, suppose it to have been composed subsequently to the time of Surrey. The poem opens with a declaration of the author, that the faith of woman is stronger than is generally alleged, in proof of which he proposes to relato the trial to which the • Not-Browne Mayde' was exposed by her lover. What follows consists of a dialogue between the pair.)

He.-It standeth so; a deed is do',

Whereof great harın shall grow :
My destiny is for to die

A shameful death, I trow;
Or else to flee : the one must be,

None other way I know,
But to withdraw as an outlaw,

And take me to my bow.
Wherefore adieu, my own heart true!

None other rede I can:
For I must to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.
Sne.-0 Lord, what is this world's bliss,

That changeth as the moon !
My summer's day in lusty May

Is darked before the noon.
I hear you say, Farewell : Nay, nay,

We depart not so soon.
Why say ye so ! whither will ye go!

Alas! what have ye done?
All my welfàrc to sorrow and care

Should change if ye were gone ;
For in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

SHE.—I think not nay, but, as ye say,

It is no maiden's lore :
But love may make me for your sake,

As I have said before,
To come on foot, to hunt and shoot

To get us meat in store ;
For so that I your company

May have, I ask no more :
From which to part it makes my heart

As cold as any stone ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
HE.—Yet take good heed, for ever I dread

That ye could not sustain
The thorny ways, the deep vallèys,

The snow, the frost, the rain,
The cold, the heat ; for, dry or weet,

We must lodge on the plain ;
And us above, none other roof

But a brake bush or twain : Which soon should grieve you, I believe,

And ye would gladly than
That I had to the greenwood go,

Alone, a banished man.
SHE.—Sith I have here been partinèr

With you of joy and bliss,
I must also part of your wo

Endure, as reason is.
Yet I am sure of one pleasùre,

And, shortly, it is this,
That, where ye be, me seemeth, pardie,

I could not fare amiss.
Without more speech, I you beseech

That ye were soon agone,
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
HE.-If ye go thither, ye must consider,

When ye have list to dine,
There shall no meat be for you gete,

Nor drink, beer, ale, nor wine,
No sheetes clean, to lie between,

Made of thread and twine ;
None other house but leaves and boughs,

To cover your head and mine.
Oh mine heart sweet, this evil diet,

Should make you pale and wan;
Wherefore I will to the green wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

Hz.-I can beliere, it shall you grieve,

And somewhat you distrain :
But afterward, your paines hard

Within a day or twain
Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take

Comfort to you again.
Why should ye ought, for to make thought ?

Your labour were in vain.
And thus I do, and pray to you,

As heartily as I can ;
For I must to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.


SHE.-Among the wild deer, such an archer,

As men say that ye be,
Ye may not fail of good vittail,

Where is so great plentie.
And water clear of the river,

Shall be full sweet to me.
With which in heal, I shall right weel

Endure, as ye shall see ;
And, ere we go, a bed or two

I can provide anone ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
HE.—Lo yet before, ye must do more,

If ye will go with me;
As cut your hair up by your ear,

Your kirtle to the knee ;
With bow in hand, for to withstand

Your enemies, if need be ;
And this same night, before day-light,

To wood-ward will I flee.
If that ye will all this fulfill,

Do't shortly as ye can :
Else will I to the green wood go,

Alone, & banished man.
SHE-I shall, as now, do more for you,

Than 'longeth to womanheed,
To short my hair, a bow to bear,

To shoot in time of need.
Oh, my sweet mother, before all other

For you I have most dread;
But now adieu ! I inust ensue

Where fortune doth me lead.
All this make ye : Now let us flee ;

The day comes fast upon :
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
Hg.–Nay, nay, not so ; ye shall not go,

And I shall tell you why :
Your appetitel is to be light

Of love, I weel espy :
For like as ye have said to me,

In like wise, hardily,
Ye would answer whoever it were,

In way of company.
It is said of old, soon hot, soon cold ;

And so is a woman,
Wherefore I to the wood will go,

Alone, a banished man.
ShE.- If ye take heed, it is no need

Such words to say by me;
For oft ye prayed and me assayed,

Ere I loved you, pardie :
And though that I, of ancestry,

A baron's daughter be,
Yet have you proved how I you loved,

A squire of low degree;
And ever shall, whatso befal;

To die therefore anon ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
HR-A baron's child to be beguiled,

It were a cursed deed !
To be fellàw with an outlaw,

Almighty God forbid !
It better were, the poor squièr

Alone to forest yede,
Than I should say, another day,

That, by my cursed deed,
We were betrayed : wherefore, good maid,

The best rede that I can,
Is, that I to the greenwood go,
Alone, a banished man.

1 Disposition.

ShE.-Whatever befall, I never shall,

Of this thing you upbraid ; But, if ye go, and leave me so,

Than have ye me betrayed.
Remember weel, how that you deal ;

For if ye, as ye said,
Be so unkind to leave behind,

Your love, the Nut-Brown Maid,
Trust me truly, that I shall die

Soon after ye be gone ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
HE.—If that ye went, ye should repent ;

For in the forest now
I have purveyed me of a maid,

Whom I love more than you ;
Another fairèr than ever ye were,

I dare it weel avow,
And of you both each should be wroth

With other, as I trow :
It were mine ease to live in peace ;

So will I, if I can ;
Wherefore I to the wood will go,

Alone, a banished man.
SHE.—Though in the wood I understood

Ye had a paramour,
All this may not remove my thought,

But that I will be your.
And she shall find me soft and kind

And courteous every hour ;
Glad to fulfill all that she will

Command me to my power.
For had ye, lo, an hundred mo,

Of them I would be one ;
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
He.-Mine own dear love, I see thee prove

That ye be kind and true;
Of maid and wife, in all my life,

The best that ever I knew.
Be merry and glad ; no more be sad ;

The case is changed now ;
For it were ruth, that, for your truth,

Ye should have cause to rue.
Be not dismayed ; whatever I said

To you, when I began ;
I will not to the greenwood go :

I am no banished man.
ShE.—These tidings be more glad to me,

Than to be made a queen,
If I were sure they would endure :

But it is often seen,
When men will break promise, they speak

The wordes on the spleen.
Ye shape some wile me to beguile,

And steal from me, I ween :
Than were the case worse than it was,

And I more woe-begone :
For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.
He-Ye shall not need further to dread :

I will not disparàge,
You (God defend !) sith ye

Of so great a lineage.
Now understand ; to Westmoreland,

Which is mine heritage,
I will you bring; and with a ring,

By way of marriage,
I will you take, and lady make,

As shortly as I can :
Thus have you won an earl's son,
And not a banished man.


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