The Argument.
Whill Fortune houeres doutfull of hir cho's
Nor peace nor warre on ether syd displays
Hard fait anon prepaireth greatter voes
Great diss forsies that Ioue the Scots wil reaise
To former height and furth his feinds he throwes
Who temps the Scots they leaue the Bruce whoes praise
Augmentes whill vnawarrs his foe assailles
His wittie flight his valour twyse prevailes.
The Prince of Darknes now long tyme reiosd
Of Gods great wrath amog his childre throun
Whoes foull offences had his fauor los'd
Fearing if they repent that Grace were shoune
A thousand Ills into his mynd he tost
Wheir with to tempt them yet to heauins vnknoune
Thus wyldlie Staird he when he muisd allone
Whill as he sitts on his Infernall Throne,
And now resoluing to his work he falls
And with a dreadfull greislie countenance
The curst and haitfull Fureis vp he calls
The Mounsters trembling gius obedience
Their poisond Gorgis all with Uenome swalls
Enflamd with his reid Eies hote flaming glance
Whill his strong breath furth from his ratling throat
A noyse like to a fearfull tempest shot.
Which made the Earth to quaik and deafned hell
Thus vnderstood they this confused Sound
Yow malice proud and yow inuy that dwell
Amid oure firie Regious vnder ground
Haist vp and with infecting breath expell
All peace and let no ametie be found
In the greate North and sie that you defyle
With blood and warr great Europs greatest Iile,
Mak Englands King to forge some causes new
To keip the right which he by wrong hes got
Tell him that heau'ne ordains him to renew
Sinns iust reward vpon the sinfull Scot
Mak English all with deadlie hait persew
The Scots their onlie antient foes by lot
The onlie blok that euer bears them doune
From all their greatnes Glorie and renoune,
Thus edge them on, It were greate lose great shame
If they vnto their wonted greatnes rise
Your strength allone was neuer so extreame
To mak them once to shrink nor could deuise
By slight or might to droune their famous name
Till now that loe them selfs them felfs defyis
And what your swords before could neuer doo
Their swords haue doune and winn them selfs to yow.
So that yow sie heau'ne fauors your intent
With these and vther your intendit slight
Arme them with pride hate Anger discontent
And moue the Scotts still gainst them selfs to fight
For lo I sie Joue doth his wrathe relent
And minds to raise the Scotts to greater might
For in that famous Bruce and in his lyne
They must be blisd and ou'r all Europe shyne.
Though what great Joue decrees we can not mend
Yet may we oft delay th'intendit blise
Which he ordains vpon fraill man to send
Since sluggish man by Nature cairles is
And wee may moue him thankles to offend
And oft to disobey his law I wish
For man is fleshlie geu'ne to foull delight
And God is alway pure cleir holie right,
Since wee of all the damned heyres as cheiff
And has no longer tyme from Torments frie
Then till the cup be full of Gods hote greiff
And that greate day of his fierce wrathe wee sie
Then with the soules which now without releif
We still torment shall wee tormented be
And which is worse oure pains shall neu'r be spent
Whill we oure selfs must still oure selfs torment.
Then heauins decree to stay oure strength is small
Yet heaueing tyme we may not tyre of Ill
Since what we wold that can we not at all
Do what we may we may not what we will
At these his words Invy and malice swell
With murdring hate their breists with venom fill
And vp they flie to view days glorious light
Bringing Mischeif, Greif, horror, warr, dispight.
Arriuing heir they fill eche Godles heart
With anger, raige, Mischeif, pride, hate, inuie,
Then to the camp they hie to vse their airt
But their vane Slight the nobler sort descrie
Whill grace, loue, wisdome, with their worths dese
Did dreiue them thence in endles infamie
Yet in the basser sort great pou'r they winne
Throu whoes faint hearts dispair, feir, danger, rune
Greate bands of these by their deceat they dreu
Whoe stelling from the camp by night doth flie
And still these feinds to their fant minds doth show
For hoped Conquest shamefull Infamie
Ther former lose remembrance lets them knou
Which oft repeated maks their hopes to die
These words they murmur still them selfs among
On shamefull death shall we attend so long.
Allace what strength what might what pou'r haue we
Ritch England warlick Schotland to ganestand
May not oure Lord behold his infamie
And in the glas of former works haue scand
That gainst his will heaunis bend their iust decrie
Earth scorns to build a Trophee for his hand
Fate to his fall his frouning fortun brings
Heauen, earth, fate fortun all crose his desings.
Heauins neuer yet did feuour his intent
Earth neu'r lookt for conquest at his hand
Fate neuer fraimd his will to find content
And fortun neuer lik't of his demand
Fair victorie her cheifest wealth has spent
On his proud foe whoe conquering doth command
Vs all if got like robbers hangd to bee
Thus we'r but outlawes to his maiestie.
With Greif and sorrou pane and trauel sore
We hunger-sterud Amidst the montans ly
Oure frends still aid oure foes and which is more
Eu'ne oure oune natioun vs with scorne defie
Thousands that rose in oure defence before
Now with oure foes gainst vs ther forces trie
Whill wee that noght but shame and want doth gane
Attend on hope and still attend in vane,
Why stay we then to immitat ther flight
Whoe with our foes abide in wealth and ease
No let vs render vp this camp but fight
And giue our Lorde to vse him as they please
Or if noght this then let vs flie by night
And yeildinge to our foes, their wrathe appease
This laste opinioun eache approueth so
That eu'rie night in troups away they Goe
Thus wroght blak Plutos messingers their will
And now to worke the rest of their mischeife
Braue Pembroks ear with these glad neus they fill
And fills his warrlik mind with raige and greif
To mak an end of warr they show him still
That now he may at ease without releif
His waikned foe of forder hopes depriue
Quite ouerthroune or kild or tane aliue
Then fed with hope he doth an armie raise
Of Scotts and English neir ten thousand strong
Whoes minds with hate and with desire of praise
They do inflame nor stay they those among
But heir and their throgh all the land they gaise
Subiects to find whereby to work more wrong
At last of lorne that cruell Lord they find
And vnto new reuenge they stirre his mind,
To nev reuenge of his deir cusings blood
Greate Cummernald whom Bruce before had slane
He to this warr brings foorth fiue thousand good
And to greate Englands generall ioins amane
Thus foreward prikt with hope and hatfull mood
They brauelie martch ou'r hil ou'r daill ou'r plane
Whereof our Gallant noght at all did kno
So spedelie and secretlie they go.
Now of fiue hundreth thrise with him remaind
Thrie hundreth scant the rest war fled and gone
Whereof he oft and secretlie complaind
Yet wiselie in him self conceall'd his mone
But nou his scouts by trauell that obtaind
A sight of their Proud foe return anone
And to him bring those wofull neus at last
Whoes sound from eare to eare right sadlie past.
The relicts small of his forsaeken host
Wheir all about him standing in a round
Whill as bold Edward thus did him accost
My Lord and brother let not this confound
Your noble thoghts tho numbers quite be lost
In this small band must all your hops be cround
Tho fortun beare your iust desings aurie
She can not let vs brauelie for to die.
Will is it knowne since first we Armour tooke
When in oure cuntreis cause we swore to stand
That euer since wee suffred haue rebooke
Nor fortun once wold fauour oure demand
With shame and lose oure. Frends vs all forsooke
Oure soldiers seing noght but lose at hand
Haue left vs Cowards worthie not to breath,
That we may look for nothing now but death.
Yet sall it neu'r be said nor sein nor knowne
That in oure latest hour we shrink or flie
No let oure hearts oure hands and al be shoune
Eu'ne in dispight of fortuns crueltie
To work most dread reuenge if ouerthroune
And with their brauest captains let vs die
Lo fame and Glorie shall oure death attend
Nor shall they much reioise in this oure end.
The rest whome Anger curage greif dispair
Tormenting made to wish their deaths were nie
Applaudeth all that he had said and their
All crie dye die reuenge and brauelie die
But their braue Prince with mild looks doth declair
His counsall wise and his command whereby
Their fiurie hote and fond dispair refraining:
He to his brother answers thus complaning.
Thy counsall in the wise no place will find
With such dispairing hezerds to betray
Oure selfs vnto oure foes they proue to kind
To please their foe that works their oune decay
What tho the basser sort their beastlie mind
In flieing from oure camp doth weill beuray
Yet hope and forsight fortun still commands
And warrs good luuk in wisdoms counsall stands.
What though oure fainting troups haue fled before
Who e'r the neues of ill with terror stings
These at the reall sight will feare much more
And confort none but meir disconfort brings
Yea when they fled my hopes they did restore
And with them fled the Douts of my desings
Greate foolls ar they that builds their hopfull goods
Vpone the euer changeing multitude
In you that doth remane my confort lies
Nor can a world of armeis me effray
For heau'ne promeisd mee that I should ryise
Vnto my foes shame ruin and decay
I cair not I what earth or hell deuyis
They can not hinder heauin though they dalay
Fraill mans intendit blish by heauins decreed
With heauinlie faith is eathlie wants suppleid.
Knou then this praise to Scotts is onlie deu
Neu'r conquerd yet neu'r yeild it to their foes
For want refusing neuer to perseu
With endles warr the iust reuenge of those
That wold their liues or liberteis subdeu
For Scotts will ether all way mak a chose
Of friedome euer poore with warre maintaind
Then bondage euer riche with peace still gaind.
By this they sie an armie to appeir
Before their face and at their baks they vieu
The Lord of Lorne with all his troups drau neir
By secreit by-waes led, them to perseu
Whereat they stand amaz'd vntill, they heire
Their Lords wise hardie resolutioun treu
Whoe thus to cheir and confort them began
Fear not their slight for do the worst they can,
Wee shall esheu their craft their hate their force
Then he commands his brother to depairt
And Lennox Erle with them ane hundreth horse
Douglas and Hay vnto the contrair Airt
With equall number bend their speedie course
Now freinds quod he eche bear a valliaunt hearte
And fleing fight and fighting flie your foes
For your braue flight hew forth your wais with bloes.
So our's shal be the Glorie of this day
And wee with fame returne but thay with shame
We with the rest will likewais hold oure way
Betuixt their armeis so shall we reclame
Oure life and honor whiche thay count their pray
Yea and perhaps er long may pay thame hame
This said all Thrie thrie sundrie way's oppose
Their Warlick breists gainst thousands of their foes.
Yea suerlie each of theme great valor shoes
And wisdoms beams stil gaue thair valor light
They brak throw armed Squadrons of their foes
Thus they perseuing flie and flieing fight
O curage great O valor worthie those
That ryse to ewer shyning Glorie bright
Throw thrice fyue thowsand fighting fleis thrie hunder
Not loseing One. O curage great! O wonder!
The valiannt Bruce with vnresisted might
Fleis yet his deids still maks him knowne of all
The lord of Lorne that weill espyde his flight
Soone folloud him in hope to work his fall
Fyue hunderth thrice on horssis swift and light
With him he taks and gius but leasure small
To Bruce who thrice diuids his Men in thrie
And thrice thrie sundrie wayis the're forst to flie
At last with him their did remane but one
And yet his foes still follow'd on his tract
Their care is onlie him to haue allone
Nor seme thay of his Men account to make
Fiue knights that al the rest had farr owt gone
Wer cum so neir that him they ouertake
Whoe scornd to Flie whill he had bein aliue
Though but allone from fyftie ioynd to fiue
The knight that with him stayd was bold and stout
Whoes birth made in his dams fair breists appeir
The milk that nur'st the Prince for whiche no dowt
He greatlie loud the Man and held him deir
Whoe with him twrns now to their foes abut
Both on theme twns nor wold they once reteir
Ther salutations were in raige and wrathe
Death on eche wound attends and shame on death
Thrie to the Prince and two vnto the knight
Addrest and thus the combat's wndertane
The valiaunt Monarche with two bloes doun right
Ones heart anothers head did cleiue in twane
Whairat dismaied the thrid doth shwn to fight
And now this matchles lord thus left allone
Len'ds th'one a blow that did his knight assaill
Till from his hors he sank doun cold and paile.
Beneath the knights good suord the fourt soone dyis
Death after him that flees wes quicklie sent
This strattagem the Prince doth sone devyse
To learne to sie and know his foes intent
He on this horse in this knight arms doth Rise
And to his foes bak as a freind he went
His knight he their Commands for to soiurne
Till he againe dead or alive Returne
This bak agane a Myll he had not gone
When as he meits the Forward of his foe
Come with a spedie marche that way anone
And them before a hundreth knights and moe
Come towards him before all these allone
A senting Slewth hound coms with Squyars two
The hound his owne he knew without all dout
Which by his foes was broght to find him out.
Without delay without advisement long
He foreward spurrs vpon his loftie steid
Whose Swiftnes had no match them all among
Knowne by the hound whom he was wount to fied
On him he fauns and with a leap he flong
Furth from the leische runing on him with speid
Whom when he wold haue kil'd poore pitie mov'd him
He cold not be ingrait to none that lov'd him.
Wherfore he bak Returns the way he came
The hound still following him had keept him still
When loe these hundreth knights espyde the same
The horse and Arms they know yet doubt some Ill
That with a scornefull raige their mynds Inflame
And with auou'd revenge their harts they fill
Thus with disordred haist they quiklie runn
And one by One much ground of him they winn
Some him to kill, and some the hound to take
Did oftentimes assaie, but al in vaine,
For their disordred furie still he brak
Each wound with holds a foe with death or paine,
Yet was he forc'd at last away to mak
By killing of the hound his life to gaine
And being now come neir vnto his knight
He thinks not meit against them all to fight.
But him commands in haist to kill that hound
Which he him self could not abide to doe
Hard by a Forrest couered all the ground
Whoes treis our all the Rockie montans Bow
Hither they flie where such dark ways they found
As from their foes their saiftie did allow
Thus mockt and scornd, the armie turns againe
With lose and Shame their travell spent in vaine.