11. The Deploration of the Cruell Murther of James Erle of Murray, Umquhile Regent of Scotland -
The Deploration of the Cruell Murther of James
Erle of Murray, Vmquhile Regent of Scotland,
togidder with ane admonitioun to the
Dammiltounis Committaris thairof, and to all
thair fortifearis, Mantenaris, or assistence, with
ane Exhortatioun to the Lordis and Nobilitie,
keiparis and defendaris of our Kingis Grace
Maiestie.
Q UHILE as with flesche, and blude we go about
The wondrous warkis of God for to discriue
Pans quhil we pleis, we sal not find yame out
Bot sall Judge God, aganis all ressoun striue.
Quhen as he tholis, proude Pelours to depriue
The lyuis from sic, as halelie wes his,
Be Cruell murther, thame reuthles for to riue
The flesche of man can neuer considder this.
Bot quha that wald the mater vnderstand,
He man luke lawer, and enter in the Spreit,
And than he sall persaif, the cause fra hand,
That God wirks na thing hot as a Judge discreit,
Quhen as the pepill with sinnis ar repleit
Without remors, as thay ar, at thir houris
Than, to that end his plaiges he may compleit,
He takis from thame thair Godly Gouernouris.
And this he blis mony sindrie sortis,
Sum tyme be seiknes, in to thair beddis to be,
Sum slane be tratouris, bot not for thair comfortis,
Bot to that end, thay suld distroyit be.
And rutit furth clene out of memorie,
He tholis sic wickit, proude Conspiratouris,
To execute thair lurking traytorie,
And bring to deith thair godly Gouernouris.
We se also the wickit of the warld,
Still beir the godly, at deidly Indignatioun,
Sum tyme be tratouris, ar Innocentis overharld,
And thocht trew men, haif heir bot tribulatioun.
We suld not haif sic thingis in admiratioun
As gif it wer, ane new thing chansit to man
For sa it was, euin from the first Creatioun,
And still hes bene, sen that this warld began.
This mortall feid, this haitrent and Inuie,
Did first begin, as Gods awin buke dois tell
As in the Genesis we may plainly spie,
Betuix twa brether, Cain and Abell.
Cain aganis his brother did Rebell,
And suffeit not, to sched his saithles blude
And for this cause, I pray zow mark it well.
His warkis war euill, and faithfull Abells gude.
And of thir twa, this haill warld did descend,
Quhilk neuer can, amangis thame selfis aggrie,
Bot baith thair offspringis may be cleirly kend
Curst Cains Clan, be thair Impietie.
And Abells seid for richt and equitie,
And thus all murtherars ar discendit doun
Of Curst Cain, and his posteritie,
As is the Tyrane and Tratour Hammiltoun.
For luke how Justice was the verray cause
To curst Cain, his brother for to kill,
Sa is it zit, but dout, the only clause
That moues the wickit, vnto thair Raging still.
Thay gloir na thing, bot euer into Ill,
And makis thame euer, but mercy to maligne
And quhen thay may, thair wickit wayis fulfill,
Thay will not thole, ane godly man to Rigne.
The Probatioun heirof.
To preif this part, I plainly mycht propone,
Exemplis seir, maist Notabill and trew,
Bot for thame all, I will bot vse heir one
Of our deir Maister, and Sauiour Christ Jesew.
In quhome na spot of sin, it neuer grew,
Zit nocht theles, the bischoppis mycht not byde him,
Quhill on a Croce, on lenth, and breid him drew,
And hangit vp for spyte, twa theuis besyde him.
For to mak mentioun of the marterdome
Of Gods Prophets, it wer sum thing to lang,
And for to reckin, the reuthles Rage of Rome
Quhair sindrie godly, thay dulefully doun dang.
It wer prolixt, thairfoir I let thir gang,
And to my purpois, bot proces mair proceid
How wickit men, delytis ay in to wrang,
And may not suffer, to haif ane godly heid.
Sen sa it was, that Christ baith God and man,
With his Apostills, and Propheits gat na rest,
Bot euer hatit be Cain, and his clan,
As God's trew word, dois mak it manifest,
We suld not grude, howbeit we be opprest,
As was our Maister, and brethrene vs beforne
Bot be assurit, it will cum for the best,
And better to thame that thay had neuer bene borne.
I mene not heir, that thay suld pas vnpunissit,
For thair trespas, nor neuer sic thing thocht,
For than suld Justice and Law be clene diminissit
Gif thay war spairit, this wickit wark hes wrocht.
That our gude gyde to bailfull beir hes brocht
Lat vs assemble thairfoir with curage stout,
And lat thay tratouris, out throw this land be socht,
And neuer leif thame till thay be rutit out.
Ane Admonitioun to all the Dammiltounis and
thair assistaris, counsallaris, and pertakeris of
this maist bile and abhominabill Murther.
O Teinfall tratouris, quhy did ze him deuoir?
Maist schamefullie, that puneist euerie vice,
Quha wes the cheif mantenar of Gods gloir
In to this Realme, and lufit all Justice,
Zour bailfull blude can neuer pay the price
Of his deir deith, wrocht be zour wickitnes.
Wa worth zou Uillanis, that slew that Prince maist wise,
For na cause ellis, bot for his rychteousnes.
For sen ze first in to this Realme began,
Ze wer ay callit for zour tyrannie.
Strypis of the Schyre, the maist vnworthie clan
That euer wes bred, or sene in this countrie.
As schawis weill be zour Genalogie,
For thift and murther, reif and oppressiounis,
With Guldis and Rukis, blasnit equallie
Is the auld armes of the Hammiltounis.
And quha wald seik, ane man but conscience.
Ane Renegat for to deny his Creid,
To tak ane pure man vnder his credence
Syne cut his throt, and toung out of his heid.
To put ane hundreth for to beg thair breid,
And bring Just men vnto confusioun
To do ane horrible, and ane vnworthie deid,
Seik neuer farther than ane Hammiltoun.
Ane midding tuilzour, but manheid at assay,
Ane vailzeand tyrane, and febill Campioun,
Ane wyfe with Childe, that manfully can slay,
Ane noysum nychtbour, proude in oppressioun.
Ane teinfull tratour of rycht Successioun,
To Crucifie Christ, that compts not a feg,
I say to zow for schort conclusioun,
Come neuer ane gude byrde of the Deuillis eg,
How horriblie ze spuilzeit vnder nycht
In his awin hous, maist schamefull for till heir,
And Nobill Lord, James of Torphichen knycht,
He can declair, gif ony man list speir.
Ze left him not, ane Malze nor Deneir,
Syne vnder truste, neir schot him and his wyfe,
And Tymothie wes in ane felloun feir
Bot prasit be God, thay chaipit with thair lyfe.
Our Kingis Grandschir, at Lithquo feild ze slew
Baneist his gudschir, from his kynde heritage,
His Fatheris murther also ze cleirly knew
Myschantly hangit, ane wickit vassalage.
Thir ar zour warks, euin fra zour first barnage,
God wait gif ze be Jalps to hald in stoir
Or bony byrdis, to keip into ane Cage,
Christ keip our King out of zour handis heirfoir.
Ze slew our Regent, because his warks wer gude,
Quha was the Lampe of lycht in to this land,
As houngrie tykis, ze thristit for his blude,
That sauit zow, quhen ze wer in his hand,
Quhen ze culd not resist his forcie wand,
Ane suithfast sentence, heirfoir I sall zow tell
Pronouncit be God, I lat zow vnderstand,
All Murtherars thay sall Inherit hell.
Ane admonitioun to the assistaris, counsallaris,
by lyaris, and Keioysaris in this maist detestahill
murther.
Nocht only thay, bot all that sic asisstis
Or fortefeis, or ony wayis mantenis,
Incurris his Curse, now luke Gods buke quha listis
For it is not mans Judgement sa that deims,
And quha that this soir sentence small esteims,
The tyme sall cum, that he sall weip and murne,
Quhen hiddeous Hell with greuous glowand gleims
Baith body and saule for euer mair sall burne.
Moirouer all thay of that Genalogie,
And of that Surname, we mak thame Intimatioun,
Thay salbe repute of this foule cryme gyltie
Quha nocht compeiris to mak Purgatioun,
Farther all thay, geuis consultatioun,
Or thame assistis in to this fylthie fact
And not compeiris to our Conuentioun
Thay salbe halden pertakeris of this act.
Be war heirfoir, and be effrayit of this,
Lat sic tryit tratouris defend thair awin curst cause,
Tyne not zour landis, and els the hevinis blis,
Bot be obeysant to God, and mans Lawis,
And be not flatterit with thair vaine wordis & sawis
For thay can not of this foule fack be clengit,
Thocht man wald wink, zit God yat all thing knawis
He will not leif this vile wark vnreuengit.
The exhortatioun to the Lordis and Dohilitie
persemarts of this cruell Murther, and defendaris of
our King.
God sayis my Lords, he wil be aduersair,
To bludy boucheris, that stand of him na feir,
My Lords, thir wordis suld carage zow far mair
Nor the hail help of man baith far and neir.
Fall to heirfoir with blyith and mirrie cheir,
Wear anew, thairfoir heis vp zour hartis,
And fordwarts marche, sa sall we se and heir
Quhat lurkand lubers will tak thir Lymmers parts.
Thay fylde the feilds befoir, quhen first yai fauchs
Quhair tha for ane, wer aye number thre,
We trowit from thence, thay suld haif sittin saucht,
And suld haif tyrit of all thair tyrannie.
Bot now allace, the contrare we may se,
Our vaine pietie, hes maid vs this fals traine.
Gods Curse thairfoir lycht on thame all for me,
That euer hes pietie or reuth on thame againe,
Gif ze do nocht Reueuge this fylthie fact
Ze will be schamit, ze may weill vnderstand,
And will be namit, ane fals and febill pack
That euer rang in ony Realme or land.
With curage heirfoir, now be the baner stand,
And wyn for euer honour and Renoun,
Do ze not this, ze ar ane bailfull band
And seruis nocht ells, bot Goddis malesoun.
For Gods Curse, his vengance and maledictioun
Sall neuer from zow, nor fra zour seid depart,
Ze sall sustene maist sorowfull afflictioun,
That euer tholde men, in ony land or airt.
Sic hauie harme sall happen to zour hart
Gif this foule murther with silence be ouerpast,
Thir same tratouris sall mak zour selfis to smart
And salbe zour distructioun at the last.
And gif sa hapnis, ze may rycht weill considder.
This plaigue maist Justly, of Gods hands ze craif,
Far better it is thairfoir to ryse togidder
For to reuenge the Murther with the laif.
Nor Gods soir wraith abone zour heidis to haif,
For the ouerseing of sic a fylthie cryme
For Gods plaigues approchis I persaif,
Gif ze prolong, schort quhyle and drift ouer tyme.
Fall to thame fraklie, to fecht thay haif na faces,
Persew thame peirtly, and ze sall se thame fle,
Rune is thair glas, and gone now is thair graces,
In to respect of this foule tratorie,
And quha supportis thame, or dois fortifie,
I hope to God that is the heid of hallous
To se thame hyntit in handis haistelie,
Syne hangit hie, but grace vpon the Gallous.
The makaris Exhortatoun to all men in Generall.
Amend zour lyues, and call on God for grace,
Pray for zour King with hartie Exhortatioun,
Repent our sinnis quhill we haif tyme and space
Detest all vice, and foule abhominatioun.
Than God sall gif vs confort and consolatioun,
Pray for the Nobill Quene of Ingland
Quha in our neid still sendis vs supportatioun,
Hir grace, lang space, may in gude weilfair stand.
So be it.
Erle of Murray, Vmquhile Regent of Scotland,
togidder with ane admonitioun to the
Dammiltounis Committaris thairof, and to all
thair fortifearis, Mantenaris, or assistence, with
ane Exhortatioun to the Lordis and Nobilitie,
keiparis and defendaris of our Kingis Grace
Maiestie.
Q UHILE as with flesche, and blude we go about
The wondrous warkis of God for to discriue
Pans quhil we pleis, we sal not find yame out
Bot sall Judge God, aganis all ressoun striue.
Quhen as he tholis, proude Pelours to depriue
The lyuis from sic, as halelie wes his,
Be Cruell murther, thame reuthles for to riue
The flesche of man can neuer considder this.
Bot quha that wald the mater vnderstand,
He man luke lawer, and enter in the Spreit,
And than he sall persaif, the cause fra hand,
That God wirks na thing hot as a Judge discreit,
Quhen as the pepill with sinnis ar repleit
Without remors, as thay ar, at thir houris
Than, to that end his plaiges he may compleit,
He takis from thame thair Godly Gouernouris.
And this he blis mony sindrie sortis,
Sum tyme be seiknes, in to thair beddis to be,
Sum slane be tratouris, bot not for thair comfortis,
Bot to that end, thay suld distroyit be.
And rutit furth clene out of memorie,
He tholis sic wickit, proude Conspiratouris,
To execute thair lurking traytorie,
And bring to deith thair godly Gouernouris.
We se also the wickit of the warld,
Still beir the godly, at deidly Indignatioun,
Sum tyme be tratouris, ar Innocentis overharld,
And thocht trew men, haif heir bot tribulatioun.
We suld not haif sic thingis in admiratioun
As gif it wer, ane new thing chansit to man
For sa it was, euin from the first Creatioun,
And still hes bene, sen that this warld began.
This mortall feid, this haitrent and Inuie,
Did first begin, as Gods awin buke dois tell
As in the Genesis we may plainly spie,
Betuix twa brether, Cain and Abell.
Cain aganis his brother did Rebell,
And suffeit not, to sched his saithles blude
And for this cause, I pray zow mark it well.
His warkis war euill, and faithfull Abells gude.
And of thir twa, this haill warld did descend,
Quhilk neuer can, amangis thame selfis aggrie,
Bot baith thair offspringis may be cleirly kend
Curst Cains Clan, be thair Impietie.
And Abells seid for richt and equitie,
And thus all murtherars ar discendit doun
Of Curst Cain, and his posteritie,
As is the Tyrane and Tratour Hammiltoun.
For luke how Justice was the verray cause
To curst Cain, his brother for to kill,
Sa is it zit, but dout, the only clause
That moues the wickit, vnto thair Raging still.
Thay gloir na thing, bot euer into Ill,
And makis thame euer, but mercy to maligne
And quhen thay may, thair wickit wayis fulfill,
Thay will not thole, ane godly man to Rigne.
The Probatioun heirof.
To preif this part, I plainly mycht propone,
Exemplis seir, maist Notabill and trew,
Bot for thame all, I will bot vse heir one
Of our deir Maister, and Sauiour Christ Jesew.
In quhome na spot of sin, it neuer grew,
Zit nocht theles, the bischoppis mycht not byde him,
Quhill on a Croce, on lenth, and breid him drew,
And hangit vp for spyte, twa theuis besyde him.
For to mak mentioun of the marterdome
Of Gods Prophets, it wer sum thing to lang,
And for to reckin, the reuthles Rage of Rome
Quhair sindrie godly, thay dulefully doun dang.
It wer prolixt, thairfoir I let thir gang,
And to my purpois, bot proces mair proceid
How wickit men, delytis ay in to wrang,
And may not suffer, to haif ane godly heid.
Sen sa it was, that Christ baith God and man,
With his Apostills, and Propheits gat na rest,
Bot euer hatit be Cain, and his clan,
As God's trew word, dois mak it manifest,
We suld not grude, howbeit we be opprest,
As was our Maister, and brethrene vs beforne
Bot be assurit, it will cum for the best,
And better to thame that thay had neuer bene borne.
I mene not heir, that thay suld pas vnpunissit,
For thair trespas, nor neuer sic thing thocht,
For than suld Justice and Law be clene diminissit
Gif thay war spairit, this wickit wark hes wrocht.
That our gude gyde to bailfull beir hes brocht
Lat vs assemble thairfoir with curage stout,
And lat thay tratouris, out throw this land be socht,
And neuer leif thame till thay be rutit out.
Ane Admonitioun to all the Dammiltounis and
thair assistaris, counsallaris, and pertakeris of
this maist bile and abhominabill Murther.
O Teinfall tratouris, quhy did ze him deuoir?
Maist schamefullie, that puneist euerie vice,
Quha wes the cheif mantenar of Gods gloir
In to this Realme, and lufit all Justice,
Zour bailfull blude can neuer pay the price
Of his deir deith, wrocht be zour wickitnes.
Wa worth zou Uillanis, that slew that Prince maist wise,
For na cause ellis, bot for his rychteousnes.
For sen ze first in to this Realme began,
Ze wer ay callit for zour tyrannie.
Strypis of the Schyre, the maist vnworthie clan
That euer wes bred, or sene in this countrie.
As schawis weill be zour Genalogie,
For thift and murther, reif and oppressiounis,
With Guldis and Rukis, blasnit equallie
Is the auld armes of the Hammiltounis.
And quha wald seik, ane man but conscience.
Ane Renegat for to deny his Creid,
To tak ane pure man vnder his credence
Syne cut his throt, and toung out of his heid.
To put ane hundreth for to beg thair breid,
And bring Just men vnto confusioun
To do ane horrible, and ane vnworthie deid,
Seik neuer farther than ane Hammiltoun.
Ane midding tuilzour, but manheid at assay,
Ane vailzeand tyrane, and febill Campioun,
Ane wyfe with Childe, that manfully can slay,
Ane noysum nychtbour, proude in oppressioun.
Ane teinfull tratour of rycht Successioun,
To Crucifie Christ, that compts not a feg,
I say to zow for schort conclusioun,
Come neuer ane gude byrde of the Deuillis eg,
How horriblie ze spuilzeit vnder nycht
In his awin hous, maist schamefull for till heir,
And Nobill Lord, James of Torphichen knycht,
He can declair, gif ony man list speir.
Ze left him not, ane Malze nor Deneir,
Syne vnder truste, neir schot him and his wyfe,
And Tymothie wes in ane felloun feir
Bot prasit be God, thay chaipit with thair lyfe.
Our Kingis Grandschir, at Lithquo feild ze slew
Baneist his gudschir, from his kynde heritage,
His Fatheris murther also ze cleirly knew
Myschantly hangit, ane wickit vassalage.
Thir ar zour warks, euin fra zour first barnage,
God wait gif ze be Jalps to hald in stoir
Or bony byrdis, to keip into ane Cage,
Christ keip our King out of zour handis heirfoir.
Ze slew our Regent, because his warks wer gude,
Quha was the Lampe of lycht in to this land,
As houngrie tykis, ze thristit for his blude,
That sauit zow, quhen ze wer in his hand,
Quhen ze culd not resist his forcie wand,
Ane suithfast sentence, heirfoir I sall zow tell
Pronouncit be God, I lat zow vnderstand,
All Murtherars thay sall Inherit hell.
Ane admonitioun to the assistaris, counsallaris,
by lyaris, and Keioysaris in this maist detestahill
murther.
Nocht only thay, bot all that sic asisstis
Or fortefeis, or ony wayis mantenis,
Incurris his Curse, now luke Gods buke quha listis
For it is not mans Judgement sa that deims,
And quha that this soir sentence small esteims,
The tyme sall cum, that he sall weip and murne,
Quhen hiddeous Hell with greuous glowand gleims
Baith body and saule for euer mair sall burne.
Moirouer all thay of that Genalogie,
And of that Surname, we mak thame Intimatioun,
Thay salbe repute of this foule cryme gyltie
Quha nocht compeiris to mak Purgatioun,
Farther all thay, geuis consultatioun,
Or thame assistis in to this fylthie fact
And not compeiris to our Conuentioun
Thay salbe halden pertakeris of this act.
Be war heirfoir, and be effrayit of this,
Lat sic tryit tratouris defend thair awin curst cause,
Tyne not zour landis, and els the hevinis blis,
Bot be obeysant to God, and mans Lawis,
And be not flatterit with thair vaine wordis & sawis
For thay can not of this foule fack be clengit,
Thocht man wald wink, zit God yat all thing knawis
He will not leif this vile wark vnreuengit.
The exhortatioun to the Lordis and Dohilitie
persemarts of this cruell Murther, and defendaris of
our King.
God sayis my Lords, he wil be aduersair,
To bludy boucheris, that stand of him na feir,
My Lords, thir wordis suld carage zow far mair
Nor the hail help of man baith far and neir.
Fall to heirfoir with blyith and mirrie cheir,
Wear anew, thairfoir heis vp zour hartis,
And fordwarts marche, sa sall we se and heir
Quhat lurkand lubers will tak thir Lymmers parts.
Thay fylde the feilds befoir, quhen first yai fauchs
Quhair tha for ane, wer aye number thre,
We trowit from thence, thay suld haif sittin saucht,
And suld haif tyrit of all thair tyrannie.
Bot now allace, the contrare we may se,
Our vaine pietie, hes maid vs this fals traine.
Gods Curse thairfoir lycht on thame all for me,
That euer hes pietie or reuth on thame againe,
Gif ze do nocht Reueuge this fylthie fact
Ze will be schamit, ze may weill vnderstand,
And will be namit, ane fals and febill pack
That euer rang in ony Realme or land.
With curage heirfoir, now be the baner stand,
And wyn for euer honour and Renoun,
Do ze not this, ze ar ane bailfull band
And seruis nocht ells, bot Goddis malesoun.
For Gods Curse, his vengance and maledictioun
Sall neuer from zow, nor fra zour seid depart,
Ze sall sustene maist sorowfull afflictioun,
That euer tholde men, in ony land or airt.
Sic hauie harme sall happen to zour hart
Gif this foule murther with silence be ouerpast,
Thir same tratouris sall mak zour selfis to smart
And salbe zour distructioun at the last.
And gif sa hapnis, ze may rycht weill considder.
This plaigue maist Justly, of Gods hands ze craif,
Far better it is thairfoir to ryse togidder
For to reuenge the Murther with the laif.
Nor Gods soir wraith abone zour heidis to haif,
For the ouerseing of sic a fylthie cryme
For Gods plaigues approchis I persaif,
Gif ze prolong, schort quhyle and drift ouer tyme.
Fall to thame fraklie, to fecht thay haif na faces,
Persew thame peirtly, and ze sall se thame fle,
Rune is thair glas, and gone now is thair graces,
In to respect of this foule tratorie,
And quha supportis thame, or dois fortifie,
I hope to God that is the heid of hallous
To se thame hyntit in handis haistelie,
Syne hangit hie, but grace vpon the Gallous.
The makaris Exhortatoun to all men in Generall.
Amend zour lyues, and call on God for grace,
Pray for zour King with hartie Exhortatioun,
Repent our sinnis quhill we haif tyme and space
Detest all vice, and foule abhominatioun.
Than God sall gif vs confort and consolatioun,
Pray for the Nobill Quene of Ingland
Quha in our neid still sendis vs supportatioun,
Hir grace, lang space, may in gude weilfair stand.
So be it.
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