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"To see if Skelton will put himself in

prease

Among the thickest of all the whole route, Make noise enough, for clatterars love no

peace,

Let see, my sister, now speed you, — go about,

Anone, I say, this trumpet were founde,
And for no man hardely let him spare,
To blow bararag till beth his eyen stare."
SKELTON'S Garlande of Lawrell.

[The Cowntes of Surrey deviseth a Cronell of Lawrell for Skelton, her Clerke.] "THUS talking we went forth in at a postern gate,

Turning on the right hand, by a wynding stayre,

She brought me to a goodly chambre of astate,

Where the noble Countes of Surrey in a chaire

Sate honorably, to whom dyd repayre
Of ladies a bevy, with all dewe reverence,
Syt downe fayre ladyes and do your dili-
gence.

"Come forth, gentilwomen, I pray you, she said,

I have contryved for you a goodly warke, And who can worke best now shal be as

sayd;

A cronell of laurell with verdurès light and darke,

I have devised for Skelton my clerke,
For to his service I have such regarde,
That of our bountie we wyll hym rewarde.

"For of all ladyes he hath the library, Their names recountyng in the court of Fame;

Of all gentylwomen he hath the scruteny,
In Fame's court reportyng the same;
For yet of women he never sayd shame,
But if they were countrefettes that women
them call,

That list of their lewdnesse with him for to brall.

SKELTON-LYNDSAY.

"With that the tapettès and carpettès were layde,

Whereon these ladyes softely myght rest, The saumpler to sowe on, the laces to embrayde,

To weave in the stole some were full preste, With slaies, with tavels, with hedellas' well drest;

The frame was brought forth with his

weaving pin,

God give them good spede their warke to begin.

"Some to embrowder put them in prease, Wel gyding their glotton to kepe streight

their silk,

Some pyrling of gold their work to in

crease

With fingers smale, and handes as white as mylk,

309

Cleikand1 to thame skarlot and cramosye
With menever, martrik, grys, and ryche ar-
myne;

Thair lawe hartis exaltit ar sa hye,
To se thair papall pomp it is ane pyne,
Mair riche array is now with frienzis2 fyne
Upon the barding of ane bischopis mule,
Nor ever had Paule or Peter agan
Yule."
LYNDSAY.

[Unspiritual Priests.]

"ESAYAS into his work

That callit ar preistis, and can nocht preche,
Callis tham lyke doggis, that can nocht bark,
Nor Christis law to the pepill teche:
Gif for to preche bene thair professioun,
Quhy suld thay mell with court or sessioun ?
Except it war in spirituall thingis
Referring unto Lordis and Kingis,

With Rech me that skayne of tewly silk; Temporall causis to be decydit,

And, Wynde me that botoume of such an

hewe,

Grene, red, tawney, whyte, purple and

blewe.'

"Of broken warkis wroght many a goodly thing,

In castyng, in turnyng, in florishing of flowres.

With burres rough and buttons surffyl

lyng,

In nedyll warke raysyng byrdes in bowres,
With vertue enbesed all tymes and howres,
And truly of their bountie thus were they
bent,

Gif thay thair spirituall office gydit,
Ilk man might say thay did thair partis,
But gif thay can play at the cartis,
And mollet moylie 3 on ane mule,
Thocht they had never sene the seule,
Yit at this day, als weill as than,
Will be maid sic ane spirituall man."

Parson.

Ibid.

"THOCHT I preich nocht, I can play at the caiche;4

I wat thare is nocht ane amang yow all,

To worke me this chaplet by good advise- Mair ferylie can play at the fute-ball;

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And wichtly wallop' over the sandis;
Thay nouther spairit spurris nor wandis.
Castand galmoundis2 with bendis and beckis
For wantones sum brak thair neckis."

Ibid.

[The Swallow a Blood-stauncher.] "THE Swift swallow, in practik maist pru

dent,

I wat scho wald my bleiding stem belyve, With hir most vertuous stane restringityve." Ibid. Complaynt of the Papingo.

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Lyndsay has written a Supplication against "SYDE taillis,

Quhilk throw the dust and dubbis traillis,
Thre quarteris lang behynd thair heillis,
Thocht bischoppis, in thair pontificallis,
Expres agane all commoun veillis,
Have men for to beir up thair taillis,
For dignitie of thair office;
Richt so ane quene, or ane emprice ;
Howbeit thay use sic gravitie
Conformand to thair majestie,
Thocht thair rob royallis be upborne,
I think it is ane verray scorne,
That every lady of the land
Suld have hir taill so syde trailland;
Howbeit thay bene of hie estait,
The quene thay suld nocht counterfait;
Quhare ever thay go it may be sene
How kirk and calsay thay soup clene.”
&c. &c.

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LYNDSAY — GASCOIGNE.

Belt and brochis of silver fyne;
Of yallow taftais wes hir sark,
Begaryit all with browderit wark,
Richt craftelie with gold and silk."
Ibid. Squyre Meldrum.

This fine shift was taken from the Irish lady by the Scotch soldiers, from whom Squyre Meldrum recovers it.

[The Knight's Velvet Cap and Coif of Gold -when unarmed.]

"HE tuik his leif and went to rest;
Syne airlie in the morne him drest
Wantonlie in his weirlyke weid,
All weill enarmit saif the heid:
He lap upon his cursour wicht,

And straucht him in his stiroppis richt,
His speir and scheild and helme wes borne
With squyeris that raid him beforne;
Ane velvot cap on heid he bair,

Ane quaif of gold to hald his hair.”

[Bumbard.]

Ibid.

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Like sops of brovesse1 puffed up with froth; Where inwardly they be but hollow geer, As weak as wind which with one puff up goeth.

And yet they brag and think they have no peer,

Because Harlem hath hitherto held out; Although in deed, as they have suffered Spain,

The end thereof even now doth rest in doubt."

GASCOIGNE'S Voyage into Holland, 1572.

[Agricultural Losses.]

"WHEN Court had cast me off I toyled

at the plow,

My fancy stood in strange conceits to thrive I wot not how,

By mills, by making malt, by sheep and eke by swine,

By duck and drake, by pig and goose, by calves and keeping kine;

By feeding bullocks fat, when price at market fell,

“THAY have ane bumbard, braissit up in But since my swains eat up my gains, Fancy,

bandis,

To keip thair port, in middis of thair clois." LINDSAY.

[The Effects of Bull-Beef and Beer.] "AND thus my lord your honour may discern Our perils past, and how in our annoy God saved me, (your lordship's bound for ever),

Who else should not be able now to tell The state wherein this country doth persever, Ne how they seem in careless minds to dwell; So did they erst, and so they will do ever. And to my lord for to bewray my mind Methinks they be a race of bull-beef born, Whose hearts their butter mollyfieth by kind, And so the force of beef is clean outworn; And eke their brains with double beer are lined,

So that they march bumbast with buttered beer,

quoth he, farewell."

GEORGE Gascoigne.

[New-fangledness of Women's Dresses.]

"BEHOLD-what monsters muster here With angels' face, and harmful hellish hearts, With smiling looks and deep deceitful

thoughts,

With tender skins, and stony cruel minds, With stealing steps, yet forward feet to

fraud.

Behold, behold, they never stand content With God, with kinde, with any help of art, But curl their locks with bodkins and with braids,

But dye their hair with sundry subtle slights, But paint and slick till fairest face be foul,

1 QUERE? Browis, i. e. broths, soups. See Cotgrave in v. BROWIS. J. W. W.

312

GASCOIGNE - HABINGTON.

But bumbast, bolster, frisle and perfume: They mar with musk the balm which nature made,

And dig for death in delicatest dishes.
The younger sort come piping on apace,
In whistles made of fine enticing wood,
Till they have caught the birds for whom
they bryded-

The elder sort go stately stalking on,
And on their backs they bear both land and
fee,

Castles and towers, revenues and receits, Lordships and manors, fines, yea farms and all.

What should these be ?

They be not men; for why? they have no beards,

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To you the glory of a pompous night,
Which none (except sobriety) who wit
Or cloathes could boast, but freely did admit.

They be no boys which wear such side-long I (who still sin for company) was there,

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And tasted of the glorious supper, where Meat was the least of wonder; tho' the nest O' the Phoenix rifled seemd to amaze the feast,

And the ocean left so poor that it alone Could since vaunt wretched herring and poor John.

Lucullus' surfeits were but types of this,
And whatsoever riot mentioned is
In story, did but the dull zany play
To this proud night, which rather we'll
term day.

For the artificial lights so thick were set, That the bright sun seem'd this to counterfeit.

But seven (whom whether we should sages

call,

Or deadly sins, I'll not dispute) were all
Invited to this pomp; and yet I dare
Pawn my lov'd muse, the Hungarian did
prepare

Not half that quantity of victual when
He laid his happy siege to Nortlingen.
The mist of the perfumes was breathed so
thick,

That lynx himself, tho' her sight famed so quick,

Had there scarce spy'd one sober: for the wealth

Of the Canaries was exhaust, the health
Of his good Majesty to celebrate.

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