2. Heir Followis the Testament and Tragedie of Umquhile King Henrie Stewart of Gude Memorie -

I Henry Stewart, vmquhile of Scotland King,
Sumtyme in houpe, with reuerence to Ring:
Within this Realme in dew obedience,
Traisting with ane attoure all eirdlie thing
Quha was the ruite quhair of I did spring,
In honour to liue, be kindelie allyance:
Putand in hir sic faith and confidence,
Ingland I left, seducit be ignorance;
Scotland I socht, in houpe for to get hir,
Quhilk I may rew, as now is cum the chance,
And vthers learne be me experience:
In tyme be war, fra ainis the work missit her.

Sumtyme sho thocht, I was sa amiabill,
Sa perfyte, plesand, and sa dilectabill:
Lancit with luif, sho luid me by all wycht,
Sum tyme to shaw effectioun fauorabill,
Gratifeit me with giftis honorabill,
Maid me ze knaw, baith Lord, Duik, Erle and Knycht:
Sum tyme in mynde sho praisit me sa hycht,
Leifand all vther, hir bedfellow brycht
Chefit me to be, and maid me zour King:
Than was I thocht happy into menis sycht,
And puir anis did pryse thair maker of mycht
That send thame ane Stewart sa kindelie to Ring.

Thus quhen sho had auancit me in estate,
Hir for to pleis I set my haill consait:
Quhilk now is cause of my rakles ruyne,
Hir licherous luife quhilk kindlit ouer hait,
Cauld hes it cuild, and sylit me with dissait
Plungeit my corps into this present pyne,
Not onelie zow Lordis causand me to tyne,
Bot als allace fra my trew God declyne,
Quhome I imbrasit, for plesoure of hir Mes
Justlie thairfoir, I haue deseruit this fyne,
Quha for hir saik denyit the God deuine
That did me bring fra plesoure to distres.

Backwart fra God my Spirite fra sho wylit
Daylie with darknes my sycht sho ouersylit,
My Princelie pretence began to decay,
Vaine houpe in hir my ressoun exilit,
My truethles toung my honoure defylit
My doing in deid sho gart me deny,
Fra credite I crakit, kyndnes brak ray,
No man waid trow the worde I did say,
My leigis me left, persauand hir Ire
Ingland I left, and help was away
God maid hir scurge to plaigue me for ay,
Be war the scurge he cast not in the fyre

Thus was I than to doloure destinat,
Miserabill man and Prince infortunat,
Quhomlit in sorow and plungeit in cair:
Sum tyme in mynde with anger agitat,
Sum tyme in Spirit pansiue and fatigat,
Musand the meine mycht meis hir euer mair,
Sum tyme with doloure drewin in dispair,
Wariand the warld, welth and weilfair,
Deid I desirid hir falset to fle,
Sum tyme in mynd thinkand the contrare,
Sum vncouthe vaiage I purpoisit prepare,
Bot not sa vncouth as was prepairit for me.

Into the tyme of this my extasie,
Quhen I was in this fearfull fantasie,
With feinzeit fair, and wylie wordis discreit,
Scho come to me with greit humilitie:
Lamentand sair my greit calamitie,
My langsum lyfe, and sair tormentit Spirite,
Promittand with ane faithfull hart contreit,
In tyme to cum, with reuerence me treit
To my degre, in honoure, luife and peace,
Traistand into hir wylie wordis sweit,
My hairt and lyfe into hir handis compleit,
I put, and past vnto the Sacrifice.

Quhat sall I wryte, how I was troublit thair,
I wat it wald mak ony haill hairt sair.
For to reuolue my tristsum tragidie,
How that thay boucheouris blew me in the air,
And stranglit me, I shame for to declair:
Nouther to God, nor honoure hauand Ee,
I houpit weill to haue na ennymie,
Into this Realme fra my natiuitie,
Thair was na man, quhome to I did offend,
Dissauit far I fand the contrarie,
Off Tygeris quholpis fosterit in tyrannie,
Ane treuthles troup hes drewin me to this end.

O faithless flock, denuide of godlyness,
O Serpentis seid, nurisheit in wickitnes,
Fosteraris of falset, huirdome and harlatrie,
Mantenaris of murther, witchecraft expres,
Tresoun amang zow dois daylie incres:
Lawtie is banist, Justice and equitie.
Quhat sall I wryte of zoure wyle vanitie:
On falset is foundit zoure haill felicitie,
Zour Castellis nor townis, sall not zow defend,
God hes persauit zour infidelitie,
And schortlie will plaigue zour crewell tyrannie,
Off zour schort solace sorow salbe the end.

Quhat hairt so hard for petie will not bleid!
Quhat breist can beir bot man lament my deid!
Quhat toung sa thrall in silence suir can rest!
To se ane saule in sorow sowsit but feid,
Ane saikles Lambe, ane innocent but dreid,
Taine be consent of thame he luiffit best:
Furth of his bed with doloure to be drest,
By thrawart malice and murther manifest,
Jugeit by Law, and hangit syne but dome,
Sair it was to se zoure Prince with murther prest:
Sairar I say him in his place possest,
The deid that did, than Burrio, now Brydegrome.

O wickit wemen vennomus of natuire,
Serpentis of kynde, thocht cumlie seme zour statuire
Vnstabill ioy, full of aduersitie,
In mynde malicious attoure all creatuire,
Quhais malice taine, for euer dois induire:
Teichit be experience, sa may I testifie,
Zoure craftie consaitis cloikit with flatterie,
And mylde meiknes sylit with subtilitie
Ar Medeais helters to bring vs in zour net,
Gude deidis of auld gois furth of memorie,
The ruite of euill remaines but remedie,
Ay in zoure mynde sum vengance quhill ze get.

For Dawyis deid in Maryis mynde sa prentit
Consauit haitrent, daylie mair augmentit,
Meik war his wordis, thocht greit was his greuance
Oft at command, to mak hir weill contentit,
In pouertie and paine my self fra court absentit
Paine could not pleis hir, nor zit obedience,
Persaue of lust the malice and mischance,
Quhair Venus anis gettis in hir gouernance,
Sic sylit subiectis felterit in hir snair:
Wisdome is exilit, and prudent puruoyance,
Nobilnes and honour, defacit be ignorance,
And vertew banist, fra shame pas shed of hair.

This sentence trew we may persaue in deid,
In sindrie authouris quha lykis for to reid,
In luiffis raige, as storyis dois reheirs,
The crewell work of wretheit womanheid,
We may persaue in Scylla to succeid:
For Minos luife, hir Father gaif na grace,
Deianira hir husband Hercules,
For Nessus saik, maist crewellie allace
Brocht to mischeif, for all his vassalage,
And Clytemnestra for Egistus face,
Agamemnon the mychtie King of Greice,
Hir husband slew, so vyle was hir vsage.

Off Ancus Martius we reid the greit mischance
Quha rang in Rome in proude preheminance,
Slaine be Lucinio at Tanaquillis procuire,
Samson also for manheid and prudence,
All Israell that had in gouernance:
Dalila desauit in vnder couertoure:
Quhairfoir lat men be war and keip thame suire,
Fra wemenis vennome, vnder faithles figure,
And gif na wyfe thair counsall for to keip,
For as the woirme that workis vnder cuire
At lenth the tre consumis that is duire,
So wemen men, fra thay in credite creip.

I speik not but pruise, quhilk I may sairlie rew,
Quhat lyfe did thoill, my deid dois try it trew,
My fragill fortowne, sa faithles hes bene heir,
Wald God the day that I thee Scotland knew,
Atropus the threid had cut, lachesis drew,
So sould not felt the change of fortownes cheir,
My Kingdome cair, my wealth was ay in weir,
My state vnstabill, me drew fra Godis feir,
My plesosre prikis my paine ay to prouoke.
My solace sorow sobbing to asteir,
My ryches, powertie, power to empire,
My wratchit wyfe hes now put out the smoke.

Quhat warldlie joy in earth may lang induire,
Or quhat estate may heir him self assuire?
For to conse rue his lyfe in sicernes,
Quha may sustene the perrillous auentuire?
Off fals fortowne inconstant and vnsuire:
Or quhair sall men find steidfast stabilnes?
All warldlie blis is mixt with bitternes,
Springand with ioy, endand with wretchitnes,
As heir my end reheirsit dois record,
Quhairfoir let Princes pryde thame not expres
In warldlie welth in pomp nor worthynes,
Bot stablishe thair strenth, with Dauid on the Lord.

In earth thairfoir sen nocht is parmanent,
My soule to God I leif omnipotent,
My Bab and Childe vnder the counsallis cuire,
To zow my Lordis of my deid Innocent,
For to reuenge I leif in Testament,
My saikles bluid, my murther and iniure,
Thocht Princes wald be falset zow alluire,
Hurt not zour honouris, the samin to smuire,
First luik to God, syne to zour libertie,
Think weill suppois my death ze wald induire,
Gif Rubbers Ring na subiect salbe suire
Mair nor the sheip in Foxes companie.
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