No More Learning

Other writings have been ascribed to him-a translation
of Ovid (though, in one place, he speaks of this work as a task
for another), plays on sacred subjects and sundry Aureae
orationes ; but none are extant, and we have his testimony in
the 'Conclusion of the Aeneid), which may be accepted as valid,
that he made Vergil his last literary task.
Thus vp my pen and instrumentis full zoyr
On Virgillis post I fix for evirmore,
Nevir, from thens, syk materis to discryve:
My muse sal now be cleyn contemplatyve,
And solitar, as doith the byrd in cage;
Sen fer byworn is all my childis age,
And of my dayis neir passyt the half dait
That natur suld me grantyn, weil I wait.
His later history is exclusively political, a record of promotions
and oustings. He was bishop of Dunkeld from 1516 to 1520, when
he was deprived of his see because he had gone to the English
court for aid in the Douglas-Albany quarrels. Two years later, he
17-2


## p. 260 (#278) ############################################

260
The Scottish Chaucerians
died of plague in London, in the house of his friend lord Dacre.
Just before his death, he had sent to another friend, Polydore
Vergil, material for the latter's History, by way of correction
of Major's account, which Vergil had proposed to use.
The Palice of Honour, Douglas's earliest work, is an example,
in every essential sense, of the later type of dream-poem, already
illustrated in the Goldyn Targe. It is, however, a more ambitious
work (extending to 2166 lines); and it shows more clearly the de-
cadence of the old method, partly by its over-elaboration, partly
by the inferior art of the verse, partly by the incongruous welding
of the pictorial and moral purposes. The poem is dedicated to
James IV, who was probably expected to read between the lines
and profit from the long lesson on the triumph of virtue. The
poem opens in a 'gardyne of plesance,' and in May-time, as
of yore. The poet falls asleep, and dreams of a desert place
‘amyd a forest by a hyddeous flude, with grysly fische. ' Queen
Sapience appears with her learned company. This is described
by the caitiffs Sinon and Achitophel, who wander in its wake.
Solomon, Aristotle, Diogenes, Melchisedech and all the others
are there and are duly catalogued. The company passes on to the
palace. Then follow Venus and her court with Cupid, 'the god
maist dissauabill. ' The musical powers of this company give the
poet an opportunity for learned discourse. We recall several
earlier passages of the kind, and especially Henryson's account in
the Orpheus. Douglas's remark,
Na mair I vnderstude thir numbers fine,
Be God, than dois a gukgol or a swine,
almost turns the likeness into a plagiarism from his predecessor.
The procession of lovers moves the poet to sing a 'ballet of in-
constant love,' which stops the court and brings about his arrest.
His pleas that ‘ladyis may be judges in na place' and that he
is a 'spiritual man' avail nothing; he is found guilty. Re-
flecting sorrowfully on what his punishment may be, he sees
another procession approach, that of the muses with their court
of poets. Calliope pleads for him, and he is released on condition
that he will sing in honour of Venus. Thereafter, the poet
proceeds to the palace, in companionship with a nymph, bestowed
by Calliope. They pass through all countries and by all historic
places, and stop for festivity at the well of the muses. Here
Ovid, Vergil and others, including Poggio and Valla, recite by
command before the company. The palace lies beyond on a
1 cuckoo.


## p. 261 (#279) ############################################

Douglas's Allegory
261
rock of 'slid hard marbell stone,' most difficult of ascent. On
the way up, the poet comes upon the purgatory of idle folk. The
nymph clutches him by the hair and carries him across this pit to
the top, 'as Abacuk was brocht in Babylone. ' Then he looks
down on the wretched world and sees the carvel of the State
of Grace struggling in the waters. After a homily from the nymph
on the need of grace, he turns to the palace, which is described
with full architectural detail. In it, he sees Venus on her throne;
and he looks in her mirror and beholds a large number of noble
men and women (fitly described in a late rubric as a 'lang catha-
a
logue'). Venus observes her former prisoner, and, bidding him
welcome, gives him a book to translate.
Tuichand this buik peragenture ze sall heir
Sum tyme eftir, quhen I have mair laseir.
So it would appear that Douglas had his Aeneid then in mind.
Sinon and Achitophel endeavour to gain an entrance. Cati-
line, pressing in at a window, is struck down by a book thrown by
Tully. Other vicious people fail in their attempts. Then follows a
description of the court of the prince of Honour and of secretary
Conscience, comptroller Discretion, ushers Humanity and True
Relation and many other retainers. The glories of the hall
overcome the poet, who falls down into a 'deidlie swoun. ' The
nymph ministers to him, and gives him a thirteen-stanza sermon
on virtue. Later, she suggests that they should take the air in
the palace garden. When following her over the tree-bridge
which leads to this spot, the poet falls 'out ouir the heid into
the stank adoun,' and (as the rime anticipates) 'is neir to droun. '
Then he discovers that all has been a dream. A ballad in com-
mendation of honour and virtue concludes the poem.
The inspiration of the poem is unmistakable; and it would
be easy to prove that not only does it carry on the Chaucerian
allegory, but that it is directly indebted to
Geffray Chauceir, as A per se sans peir
In his vulgare,
who appears with Gower, Lydgate, Kennedy, Dunbar and others
in the court of poets. There is nothing new in the machinery
to those who know the Rose sequence, The House of Fame
and The Court of Love. The whole interest of the poem is
retrospective. Even minor touches which appear to give some
allowance of individuality can be traced to predecessors. There
is absolutely nothing in motif or in style to cause us to suspect
the humanist. Douglas's interest in Vergil—if Venus's gift be
6


## p. 262 (#280) ############################################

262
The Scottish Chaucerians
a
rightly interpreted—is an undiscriminating interest which groups
the Mantuan, Boccaccio and Gower together, and awards like
praise to each. He introduces Ovid and Vergil at the feast by
the well of the muses, much as they had been introduced by
the English poets, though, perhaps, with some extension of their
'moral' usefulness, as was inevitable in the later type of allegory.
The Palice of Honour is a medieval document, differing from
the older as a pastiche must, not because the new spirit disturbs
its tenor.
Of King Hart, the same may be said, though it must be allowed
to be a better poem, better girded as an allegory, and surer in
its harmony of words. Its superiority comes from a fuller appre-
ciation of Chaucerian values : it cannot be explained, though some
have so considered it, as an effect of Vergilian study. There
is not the faintest trace of renascence habit in the story of
king Heart in his 'comlie castle strang' and of his five servitors
(the senses), queen Pleasance, Foresight and other abstractions.
The setting and sentiment recall the court of the prince of
Honour in the Palice of Honour; and that, again, repeats the
picture of the court of the palace in all the early continental
versions of the cours d'amour.
Conscience is a four-stanza conceit telling how the moral
sense has grown dull in men. 'Conscience' they had ; then they
clipped away the 'con,' and had 'science' and 'na mair. ' Then,
casting off 'sci,' they were left with 'ens,'
Quhilk in our language signifies that schrew
Riches and geir, that gart all grace go hens.
Douglas's translation of the twelve books of the Aeneid and
of the thirteenth by Mapheus Vegius is his most interesting work,
apart from the question how far his tone is Vergilian in the stricter
humanistic sense. In respect of the thirteen prologues and
supplementary verses of a more personal character, it may be
said to be more original than the so-called 'original' allegories.
Not all of these are introductory to the 'books' to which they
are attached; and those which are most pertinent are concerned
with the allegory of Vergil's poem. Some may be called academic
exercises, which may have been written at odd times, and, perhaps,
for other purposes. A picture of a Scottish winter, which has been
often quoted, introduces book vı; another, of May, book XII;
and another, of June, book XIII. The subjects may have been
suggested by the time of the year when the poet reached these
stages in translation ; if they were deliberately introduced for
1
6


## p. 263 (#281) ############################################

Douglas's Aeneid
263
pictorial relief, they are the nearest approach to renascence habit
in the whole work and in all Douglas's writings. A tour de force
in the popular alliterative stanza, not without suspicion of burlesque
intention, is offered as the appropriate preface to the eighth book!
Sum latit lattoun, but lay, lepis in laud lyte;
Sam penis furth a pan boddum to prent fals plakkis;
Sum goukis qubill the glas pyg grow full of gold zit,
Throw cury of the quentassens, thocht clay mugis crakis;
Sum warnour for this warldis wrak wendis by his wyt;
Sum trachour crynis the cunze, and kepis corn stakis;
Sum prig penny, sum pyk thank wyth privy promyt;
Sum garris wyth a ged staf to jag throw blak jakkis.
Quhat fynzeit fayr, quhat flattry, and quhat fals talis !
Quhat misery is now in land!
How mony crakyt cunnand!
For nowthir aiths, nor band,
Nor selis avalisl.
This audacious break in the web of the Aeneid may have served
some purpose of rest or refreshment, such as was given by the
incongruous farce within the tedious moralities of the age; but it
is not the devising of a humanist. The dialogue between the trans-
lator and Mapheus Vegius, in the thirteenth prologue, follows the
medieval fashion, which was familiar before Henryson conversed with
Aesop about his Fables. The first, or general, prologue is the most
important, and is frequently referred to for evidence of Douglas's
new outlook. The opening homage to Vergil is instructive.
Laude, honor, prasingis, thankis infynite
To the, and thi dulce ornate fresch endite,
Mast reverend Virgill, of Latyne poetis prince,
Gemme of ingine and fluide of eloquence,
Thow peirles perle, patroun of poetrie,
Rois, register, palme, laurer, and glory,
Chosin cherbukle, cheif flour and cedir tree,
Lanterne, leidsterne, mirrour, and A per se,
Master of masteris, sweit sours and springand well.
It is not difficult to underline the epithets which have done good
service in the Chaucerian ritual. Indeed, were we to read
'Chaucer' for 'Virgill' and 'English' for 'Latyne' in the third line,
we should have a straightforward 'Chaucerian' passage, true
in word and sentiment. But Chaucer is really not far away.
Douglas names him ere long, and loads him with the old honours,
though he places him second to Vergil. The reason for this is
1 Glossarial notes to this passage would be too numerous and too speculative for
this place. Those who are familiar with this genre know that strict verbal interpreta-
tion is hardly possible, and that any serious attempt towards it may disologe little but
a pedantio misunderstanding of the poet's intention,


## p. 264 (#282) ############################################

264
The Scottish Chaucerians
6
interesting. Chaucer, in telling the story of Dido in The Legend
of Good Women, had said,
I cond folwe, word for word, Virgyle,
But it wolde lasten al to long a whyle.
This, Douglas politely disputes, especially as Chaucer had said,
rather 'boldly,' that he followed Vergil in stating that 'Eneas
to Dido was forsworne. ' Douglas is careful to disprove this,
because it distorts Vergil's purpose to teach all kind of virtue
by the consistent goodness of his hero, and to point out (as
Henryson seems to have thought in his Cresseid) that Chaucer
was ever, God wait, wemenis frend. ' We are a long way
from Vergil here; as we are when the poet complains that
Caxton's translation does not do justice to what is hidden under
the cluddes of dirk poetry. ' Douglas makes a more plausible claim
to be a modern in a further objection that Caxton's translation
(taken from a French version) is bad, that it is out in its words
and its geography, and marred by omissions ; in quoting
Horace on the true method of rendering a foreign author;
and in urging the advantages to vernacular style from the
reading of the Latin poet. Yet, after all, his aim was to make
Vergil's book a literary bible, as Boccaccio's and Chaucer's were.
He desires to be thanked by schoolmasters and by 'onletterit'
folk, to whom he has given a new lesson”; he joins St Gregory's
opinion with Horace's; he sees a Christian purpose in his work,
and he prays for guidance to Mary and her Son, that heavenlie
Orpheus. ' His Vergil is, for the most part, the Vergil of the dark
ages, part prophet, part wizard, master of 'illusionis by devillich
werkis and coniurationis. ' These, he confesses, are now more rare
for 'the faith is now mair ferme'; but the circumstances should
have been allowed for by the dullard Caxton. When he returns
in the prologue to the sixth book to chide those who consider
that book but full of 'gaistis and elriche fantaseis ' and 'browneis
and bogillis,' he says of Vergil-
As tuiching hym, writis Ascencius :
Feill of his wordís bene lyk the appostillis sawis;
He is ane hie theolog sentencius,
And maist profound philosophour he hym schawis.
Thocht sum his writis frawart our faith part drawis,
Na wondir; he was na cristin man, per de;
He was a gentile, and leifit on payane lawis,
And zit he puttis ane God, Fadir maist hie.
So it would appear, only too clearly, from these interesting
1 Directioun and Exclamatioun.


## p. 265 (#283) ############################################

Douglas's Medievalism
265
prologues, that Douglas's literary attitude was not modern, and
that he is not even so much a Janus-poet as his position and
opportunities would warrant. When we separate him from his
literary neighbours, it must be as a dilettante.
Probably, the main interest of the translation, and of most
of Douglas's work, is philological. No Scot has built up such
a diction, drawn from all sources, full of forgotten tags of allitera-
tive romance, Chaucerian English, dialectal borrowings from
Scandinavian, French, Latin. No one is harder to interpret.
Literary merit is not wanting; yet, in those passages, and especially
in his Aeneid, which strike the reader most, by the vigorous,
often onomatopoeic force of the vocabulary, the pleasure is
not what he who knows his Vergil expects, and must demand.
The excellence of such a description as that of Acheron-
With holl bismel, and hiduus swelth wnrude,
Drumlie of mud, and scaldand as it wer wodą,
Poplands and bullerand* furth on athir hand
Onto Cochitus all his slik 5 and sand,
is not the excellence of the original. We are sometimes reminded
of Stanyhurst's later effort, in which, however much we may
admire the verbal briskness in the marshalling of his thunder
and storm passages, we feel that all ‘wanteth the trew decorum
of Vergilian sentiment. The archaic artifices, the metrical loose-
ness and the pedestrian tread, where Vergil is alert, destroy the
illusion. Still, if we may not give Douglas more than his due,
we must not give him less. His Aeneid is a remarkable effort,
and is gratefully remembered as the first translation of a great
classical poet into English, northern or southern.
Douglas's work, considered as a whole, expresses, in the amplest
way, the content of the later allegorical literature. He has lost
the secret of the older devices, and does not understand the new
which were about to usurp their place. He has not the artistic
sense of Henryson, or the resource of Dunbar. His pictorial
quality, on which so much stress has been laid by some who would
have him to be a modern, is not the pagan delight, nor is its use as
an interpretation of his mood after the fashion of the renascence.
Some passages which have been cited to prove the contrary are but
copies from Henryson and earlier work. In him, as in Hawes (to
quote a favourite metaphor of both) ‘the bell is rung to evensong. '
If Lyndsay and others in the next period still show Chaucerian
influence, with them it is a reminiscence, amid the turmoil of
the new day.
abysm. 3 mad, wild. "bubbling. ' roaring, "boiling. ' slime, wet mud.


## p. 266 (#284) ############################################

266
The Scottish Chaucerians
The minor contemporaries of Henryson, Dunbar and Douglas
add nothing to our sketch of Middle Scots poetry. What in-
formation we have of these forgotten writers is derived from
Dunbar's Lament for the Makaris, Douglas's Palice of Honour
and Lyndsay's Testament of the Papyngo. Historians have
probably exaggerated the extent and importance of this subor-
dinate literaturel. It is true we know little of the authors or of
their works, but what we do know shows that to speak of 'nests of
singing birds,' or to treat Dunbar as a kind of Shakespearean
eminence overtopping a great range of song, is amiable hyperbole.
What is extant of this 'Chaucerian' material lies in the lower
levels of Lydgate's and Occleve's work. The subjects are of the
familiar fifteenth century types, and, when not concerned with the
rougher popular matter, repeat the old plaints on the ways of
courts and women and on the vanity of life. Walter Kennedy,
Dunbar's rival in The Flyting, and the most eminent of these
minors, has left five poems, The Passioun of Christ, Ane Ballat
in praise of Our Lady, Pious Counsale, The Prais of Aige and
Ane agit Manis invective against Mouth-thankless. His reputa-
tion must rest on the Flyting rather than on the other pieces,
which are conventional and dull; and there only because of the
antiquarian interest of his 'billingsgate' and his Celtic sym-
pathies. With Kennedy may be named Quintyne Schaw, who
wrote an Advyce to a Courtier.
In a general retrospect of this Chaucerian school it is not
difficult to note that the discipleship, though sincere, was by no
means blind. If the Scottish poets imitated well, and often
caught the sentiment with remarkable felicity, it was because
they were not painful devotees. In what they did they showed an
appreciation beyond the faculty of Chaucer's southern admirers ;
and, though the artistic sense implied in this appreciation was
dulled by the century's craving for a ‘moral' to every fancy, their
a
individuality saved them from the fate which befel their neigh-
bours. Good as the Testament of Cresseid is, its chief interest
to the historical student is that it was written, that Henryson
dared to find a sequel to the master's well-rounded story. Douglas's
protest in the general prologue to his Aeneid, though it fail to prove
to us that Vergil was much more to him than Chaucer was, shows
an audacity which only an intelligent intimacy with the English
poet could allow. The vitality of such appreciation, far from
undoing the Chaucerian tradition, gave it a fresh lease of life
before it yielded, inevitably, to the newer fashion.
1 For the non-Chaucerian elements see next chapter,
See Chapter iv.


## p. 267 (#285) ############################################

CHAPTER XI
THE MIDDLE SCOTS ANTHOLOGIES: ANONYMOUS
VERSE AND EARLY PROSE
STRONG as was the Chaucerian influence on the Scottish poets
during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it by no means sup-
pressed or transformed what may be called the native habit of
Scottish verse. That influence came, as has been shown, from the
courtly side; it was a fashion first set by the author of The
Kingis Quair—in its treatment of the language and in its literary
mannerisms, a deliberate co-operation with the general European
effort to dignify the vernaculars. It did much, but it came late;
and, being perhaps too artificial, it yielded, in due course, to another
southern influence, more powerful and permanent. Were the
Chaucerian makars of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and
their successors in the seventeenth century to be taken as the sole
representatives of northern literature, it would be hard to account
for the remarkable outburst of national verse amid the conven-
tionalities of the eighteenth. Chaucer and the Elizabethans do
not explain Ramsay' and Fergusson and Burns : and these writers
are not a sudden dialectal sport in the literary development. It
is the object of this chapter to show that the native sentiment
which has its fullest expression in these 'modern' poets was always
active, and that the evidence of its existence and of its methods is
clear, even during that period when the higher literary genius of
the country was most strongly affected by foreign models. The
vitality of this popular habit has been shown in the most courtly
and 'aureate' verse of the so-called 'golden age. ' Even in those
passages in which the poets may be suspected of burlesquing this
habit-whether by direct satire or in half-conscious repetition of
Chaucer's dislike of 'rum ram ruf'-the acknowledgment is
significant. The thesis of this chapter is, therefore, to supplement
what has been said parenthetically of this non-Chaucerian 'matter. '
It deals with those pieces which lie outside the work of the
1 See Chapter 1v, p. 95, note.


## p. 268 (#286) ############################################

268 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
*Chaucerians,' for the most part with those anonymous poems
which have been preserved in the greater anthologies of the
sixteenth century. The interest of this body of literature is
complex-in sentiment, in choice of subject, and, not least, in
verse technique.
No literature has been better served than Scottish has been by
the industry of early anthologists. The all-important Cancioneros
have not done more for Spanish ; and they lack the exclusive
and exhaustive value of the Scottish collections. For the latter
preserve not only all that is known of the work of some of the
greatest poets, but, also, a large body of minor verse, without which
we should have formed but a poor estimate of contemporary
taste, and without which we should have lost the perspective of
later literature. These anthologies are representative in the
truest sense. They were written out by men who were, first and
foremost, collectors and antiquaries, who show no critical obsession,
no desire to select and honour what may have appealed most to
their individual taste. Their books are historical documents, which
must be interpreted by historical methods! .
The importance of this fugitive 'popular' literature is made
clear in the references by the more academic' writers. Dunbar's
Lament for the Makaris derives part of its bibliographical value
from its record of poets who owed little or nothing to 'noble
Chaucer, of makaris flour. ' Though Gavin Douglas, in his Palice
of Honour, names but Kennedie, Dunbar, and Quintine (Schaw]
as the Scottish companions of the world's poets, yet in the 'lang
catbalogue of nobyll men and wemen,' he tells us-
I saw Raf Coilzear with the thrawin brow,
Craibit Johne the Reif, and auld Cowkewyis sow;
And how the wran came out of Ailssay;
And Peirs Plowman that maid his workmen fow;
Greit Gowmakmorne and Fyn Makcoul, and how
Thay suld be goddis in Ireland as they say;
Thair saw I Maitland vpon auld Beird Gray,
Robene Hude, and Gilbert with the quhite hand,
How Hay of Nauchtoun flew in Madin land.
The list of tales, 'sum in prose and sum in verse,' and popular
songs in the oft-quoted passage in the Complaynt of Scotlande,
is—though a mere list, and, as it were, the table of con-
tents to a more elaborate Asloan or Bannatyne MS-evidence
of the highest value. Nor is the ascription of this wide taste
in literature to a band of merrymaking shepherds—however
1 For an account of these collections, see bibliography.


## p. 269 (#287) ############################################

The Native Elements 269
'academic' these pastoralists may be—without significance.
Further interest is derived from the fact that the timbre, colour,
idiosyncrasy (whatever we may call it), which constitutes the
internal interest of this material, is represented in the works of
the 'Chaucerian' poets. The evidence of this, to which we have
already referred", is not less instructive whether the poetic inten-
tion be to burlesque courtly fashions or to escape for a time from
the ceremonies of the aureate muse.
To the reader of this miscellaneous verse there are but few
rewards of literary' pleasure. It is easy to agree with Pinkerton's
caustic note on the last lines of Rowllis Cursing-
This tragedy is callit, but dreid,
Rowlis cursing, quba will it reid-
‘he might have put a point of interrogation at the close? ' We are
here less concerned with aesthetic and individual merits than with
the historical importance of the whole body. At the same time, it
may be maintained that, but for the accident of anonymity, some
of the pieces might well take their place in the works of Dunbar
or Scott and do them no dishonour. We excuse Henryson's
Practysis of Medecyne less as a lapse of genius than as an
illustration of the dues which the best of Chaucerians had to pay
at times to rough popular taste.
It is difficult to classify this miscellaneous verse and prose—the
foundlings of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries—according to
the traditional scheme of types, and in dull analogy with the
groups into which contemporary southern literature may be con-
veniently divided. Not only are the 'kinds'-lyrical, satirical, alle-
gorical and the like-merged into each other in a perplexing way,
but their differentiation may tempt us to overlook that Scottish
idiosyncrasy in which the entire critical interest of the matter may
be said to rest 8. Further, when we apply the term 'popular'
to this body of literature, we must guard against using it
in the sense familiar in the controversy on the origins of the
ballads. It is to be understood, in the main, as 'native, in
opposition to the more affected style of the makars; but, at the
same time, with 'artifice' and 'literary tradition' of its own. Its
appeal to us is the appeal of Allan Ramsay and his greater succes-
sors—the protest of vernacular habit against alien literary fashion.
i See Chapter X.
· The Hunterian Club text has taken the suggestion seriously.
& There are, of course, 'non-Chaucerian' contributions to the miscellanies which
are not goottish. The Bannatyne MS, for example, contains verses by John Heywood.


## p. 270 (#288) ############################################

270 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
As in these later writers, the prevailing sentiment is that of the
farm and burgh 'wynd'-a sentiment always robust and un-
reserved, finding expression in the revel of country fairs and
city taverns, and carrying from both, to our modern sense, the
mingled odours of the field and kennel. The two best known
examples of this 'rustic' muse are Peblis to the Play and Christis
Kirk on the Grene. These are, in theme and form, companion-
pieces, and might well be, according to a persistent tradition, by
the same author. Reference has been made to the claims set up
in behalf of James I? . Some would ascribe the poems to James V
because their popular character suits better the character of the
'Gudeman of Ballengeich' than of the author of The Kingis Quair.
It has been shown that the assumption of inappropriateness in
style is invalid as an argument against authorship by James I,
and that there are certain difficulties of date which stand in the
way of the claim for his successor. That James I may have been
the author is an allowance of some importance in studying the
entwined relationship of the Chaucerian and the 'popular' verse
during the period.
The theme of these poems is the rough fun of a village festival
or 'wappinshaw, such as has been made familiar by Geikie's
pencil. The main impression is that of wild spirits : there is
plenty of movement, but no story, or coherence in the effects.
Incidentally, there are passages which, for descriptive direct-
ness, rank with the best in the 'Dutch' manner, but their success
comes from the sheer verve of composition rather than from
cunning in the treatment of detail.
To dans thir damysellis thame dicht?
,
Thir lassis licht of laitis 3;
Thair gluvis wer of the raffell 4 rycht,
Thair schone wes of the straitis 5;
Thair kirtillis wer of lynkome 6 licht,
Weill prest with mony plaitis.
Thay wer so nys? quhen men thame nichts,
Thay squeilit lyk ony gaittis,
So lowd,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene that day.
In exact parallel with this are the opening stanzas of Peblis to
the Play, describing the morning fuss among the country wenches;
but with this additional touch-
'Evir, allace! ' than said scho,
‘Am I nocht cleirlie tyntº?
i See Chapter 2.
2 made ready.
3 manner, behaviour.
4 roe-skin.
5 ? coarse cloth (woollen).
6 Lincoln.
7 nico. '
• lost, undone.
1
8
came near.


## p. 271 (#289) ############################################

Peblis to the Play; ChristisKirk on the Grene 271
I dar nocht cum zon mercat to,
I am so evvil sone brint.
Amang zon merchandis Maj-drest so? !
Mariel I sall anis mynt2_
Stand of far, and keik þaim tos,
As I at hame wes wont,'
Quod scho,
Of peblis to the play.
The likeness is preserved throughout, in the rough love-making,
the coarse farce of the upset cadger, the wild dancing and
quarrelling (told at great length in Christis Kirk), and in the intro-
duction of certain popular types, such as the miller and the piper.
Everybody is at fever-heat: the louder the women's voices and
the harder the blows, the better the fun.
The wyvis kest vp ane hiddouss yell,
Quhen all thir yunkeris yokkit";
Als ferss as ony fyrflaucht fell,
Freikis 5 to the feild thay flokkit;
The cairliss with clubbis cowd vder quello,
Quhill blad at breistis out bokkit? :
So rudly rang the commoun bell,
Qubill all the stepill rokkit,
For reird,
At Chrystis kirk of the grene.
en the 'rush' of the verse slackens, it sometimes gains in
literary felicity, as in this excellent stanza
Than thai come to the townis end
Withouttin moir delay,
He befoir, and scho befoir,
To see quha wes maist gay.
All þat luikit þame upon
Leuche fast at þair array:
Sum said þat þai wer merkat folk,
Sam said the quene of may
Wes cumit
Of peblis to the play.
Here, too, there is movement, but the pace is comfortable. This
is partly effected by the happy redoubling of phrase. Even in the
noisier Christis Kirk the gentler song-note comes in, as in these
lines
Off all thir madynis myld as meid
Wes nane so gympt9 as Gillie;
As ony ross hir rude 10 wes reid,
Hir lyre 10 wes lyk the lillie-
9
3
6
1 (Sibbald's emendation).
try, venture.
peep at them.
* engaged in condiot).
& attacked each other.
7 burst, spurted.
men.
8 clamour.
‘jimp,' graceful, noat.
10 ruddy parts of the complexion, cheeks and lips; contrasted with lyre,' the
white skin,
7


## p. 272 (#290) ############################################

272 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
a striking anticipation of the opening verse of Henry Carey's
immortal ballad? Occasional literary merit of this kind, or
wealth of illustration to the antiquary of social manners, are
less important than the evidence which these poems yield of the
abiding rusticity of the northern muse, and of its metrical habit.
It is, as has been said, not hard to find hints of this homely quality
in the greater makars, even in their most artificial moments: here
we have in all their fulness, the setting, the actuality, the humour,
the coarseness so familiar in later northern literature. Not less
important—and for retrospective reasons too—is the complicated
verse-form. The exact manipulation of the intricate stanza, with
its lines of varying length, its richness in rime and alliteration,
may well impress the reader who comes fresh to the subject as
the work of some master-craftsman; but the frequency with which
it occurs at this time, as well as earlier and later, shows that it was
no tour de force. It supplies one of the most important links in
the "formal' transition from the older northern romance to the
later northern ballad. We appear to trace the earlier stages of the
process in the riming alliterative romances, from the long irregular
stanza of such a poem as Sir Gawayne and the Grene Knight,
through the thirteen-lined stanza of The Buke of the Howlat or
The Pistill of Susan, and the eleven-lined stanza as shown in
Sir Tristrem. There is no chronological intention in this state-
ment of descent: we may find here, as we find in the history of
the early dramatic forms of English literature, as much parallelism
and analogy as derivation. But the point is that the habit of these
'popular' fifteenth and sixteenth century poems—the alliteration,
rime and, above all, the breaking away in the bob'-is an effect of
antiquity. This stanzaic form represents the permanent native
element which is lost, or almost lost, for a time during the
'Chaucerian' ascendancy. Recognition of this fact gives a new
meaning to the stray examples in the verse of the makars, and
almost compels the critic to look upon the accredited manner
of the 'golden age' as an exception and 'accident. ' History
confirms this; for when aureation and other fashions had
passed, the reviving vernacular broke forth anew in the old
forms. Further, in this stanza we are not merely in close
association with the older romance forms ; in it we have both the
1 Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally:
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
Sally in our Alley.
6
6


## p. 273 (#291) ############################################

Sym and his Brudir and other Poems 273
timbre and measure of the ballad. This is not the place for the
discussion of the vexed question of the relationship of romance
and ballad. Whatever conclusions be reached, or whatever general
principles be assumed, the data here supplied towards the prosodic
history of the popular' ballad are significant. The actual form of
the Christis Kirk stanza, however it may stand to that of the
ballad and other forms, lived on, and again and again, in the
vernacular revival, was the medium for the retelling of rustic
frolic
Another example of this type is Sym and his Brudir. It
is, in intention, a good humoured satire on church abuse, in a tale
of two palmers in St Andrews; but the adventures of these arrant
beggars are on the same lines as those of the yokels in the pieces
already discussed, and the appeal to the reader is identical. Here
too, when the people come to the brother’s' wedding-for
quhair that Symy levit in synnyng
His bruder wald haif ane bryd-
there is the like rough ‘justing,' wild chasing on horseback, dashing
down in the dirt, and general noise. Even the literary setting at
the end of the poem is deliberately restless, for the poet, after
describing how the brother’s ‘mowth was schent' in the scrimmage,
adds
He endis the story with harme forlorne;
The nolt begowth2 till skatter,
The ky ran startling to the corne.
The rustic habit is shown more happily in The Wyf of Auchtir-
muchty and The Wowing of Jok and Jynny, both in stanzas of
eight lines with four accents, riming respectively ababcded and
ababbcbc. In the former, a husbandman tired after a wet day's
work at the plough, and out of humour at finding his wife
baith dry and clene,
And sittand at ane fyre, beikand bawld 3,
With ane fat sowp, as I hard say,
arranges that he shall change places with her. Disaster upon
disaster falls upon the amateur ‘housewife,' until he declares
Quhen I forsuk my plwche,
I trow I bot forsuk my seill5;
And I will to my plwch agane,
For I and this howss will nevir do weill.
i Occasionally with minor modifications, which do not affect the type, or dis-
guise its ancestry.
2 began.
9 lit. 'warming herself boldly, or bravely. '
• plough.
happiness, 'good. '
E. L. II. CH. XI.
18
0


## p. 274 (#292) ############################################

274 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
6
The theme is obviously old, but the treatment by the unknown
makar (for the ascription in a later hand in the Bannatyne MS to
Moffat has no warranty) is fresh and lively. The kernel of the
tale is the enumeration of the misguided man's misfortunes,
which fulfils the same purpose of cumulative farce as the rush-
ing and sprawling in Peblis to the Play and Christis Kirk on
the Grene. In the matter of prosodic relationship to the rimed
alliterative poems on the one hand and to the ballads on the other,
the text supplies interesting evidence of the echo' or 'iteration'
between, and within, the stanzas. We take, for example, the
concluding lines of the seventh stanza and the opening lines of
the eighth
Bot than or he come in agane,
The calfis brak lowss and sowkit the ky.
The calvis and ky being met in the lone, etc.
Or, in the eleventh and twelfth-
The first that he gat in his armis
Wes all bedirtin to the ene.
The first that he gat in his armis
It was all dirt vp to the eine.
Or, very fully, throughout the ninth stanza-
Than to the kyrn that he did stoure,
And jwmlit1 at it quhill2 he swatt:
Quhen he had jwmlit1 a full lang houre,
The sorow crap3 of butter he gatt.
Albeit na butter he cowld gett
3it he wes cummerit with the kyrne,
And syne he het the milk our hett,
And sorrow spark 3 of it wald zyrnes.
In these passages we have the true ballad timbre and the familiar
devices.
The Wowing' of Jok and Jynny' is an early treatment of
the theme which Burns has refashioned in Duncan Gray. There
is a strong family likeness between the opening of the 'second
setting' by Burns and that of the Wowing-
Robeyns Jok come to wow our Jynny,
On our feist evin quhen we were fou.
Much of the intended humour of the piece lies in the list of
Jynny's 'tocher-gud’or dowry and in the complementary inventory
!
till.
• wooing.
istirred, churned.
sorry a bit. '
4 thicken.
6 Bann. MS. No. CL. An unwarranted ascription to John Clerk has been marked
out in the MS.


## p. 275 (#293) ############################################

Gyre Carling
275
which John gives to prove that he is a worthy suitor-a 'fouth o'
auld nick-nackets,' after the heart of Captain Grose. Here again,
the fun comes from the 'rush' of detail and the strange medley of
worthless treasures.
I haif ane helter and eik ane hek,
Ane cord, ane creill, and als ane cradill,
Fyve fidder1 of raggis to stuff ane jak,
Ane auld pannell of ane laid sadill,
Ano pepper-polk maid of a padill,
Ane spounge, ane spindill wantand ane nok,
Twa lusty lippis to lik ane laiddill;
To gang to gidder Jynny and Jok.
It will be observed that the use of alliteration is frequent.
In all these pieces, dealing in some way with rustic wooing
and matrimony, there is a burlesque element, but this must be
distinguished from the subtler, more imaginative, and more
literary type of burlesque which constitutes the second permanent
characteristic of Middle and Modern Scots poetry. Examples have
been noted in the preceding chapter on the work of the greater
makars, and especially in the Ballad of Kynd Kittok and the
Interlude of the Droichis Part of the Play. What Gavin Douglas
wrote of Vergil's sixth book,
All is bot gaistis and elriche fantasies,
Of browneis and of bogillis full this buke,
might well be said of this strange set of Middle Scots poems.
We must not seek, with the sententious bishop, for any allegory
or moral purpose in these whimsicalities. Some of these are,
perhaps, mere burlesques of romance-tradition, most are but
'dremis and dotage in the monis cruik. '
The short tale of Gyre Carling (in three stanzas of the riming-
alliterative type, with the bob) relates how this mother-witch, who
dwelt in 'Betokis bour' and fed on Christian men's flesh, was loved
by Blasour, her neighbour'on the west syd. '
For love of hir lawchane 2 lippis, he walit and he weipit;
and he gathered a crowd of moles to warp down her tower. But
the unresponsive lady cudgelled him well (as St Peter served
Kynd Kittok) until he bled 'a quart off milk pottage inwart. '
She laughed, and, after the manner of Gog Magog's spouse in the
Interlude of the Droichis Part, ejaculated North Berwick Law in
her mirth. Then the king of Faery, with his elves and all the dogs
from Dunbar to Dunblane and all the tykes of Tervey (which
3
1 fother.
laughing
18-2


## p. 276 (#294) ############################################

276 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
6
might well be Topsy Turvy land! ), laid siege to the fair ; but she
transformed herself into a sow and went gruntling our the Greik
Sie. ' There, in spite, she married Mahomet or Mahoun, and be-
came queen of the Jews. She was sadly missed in Scotland; the
cocks of Cramond ceased to crow, and the hens of Haddington
would not lay.
All this langour for lufe befoirtymes fell,
Lang or Betok wes born,
Scho bred of ane acorne;
The laifl of the story to morne
To 30w I sall tell.
This piece might well be by Dunbar.
Another love-tale of fairyland is told in King Berdok. This
'grit king of Babylon'
dwelt in symmer in till ane bowkaill 2 stok;
And in to winter, quhen the frostis ar fell,
He dwelt for cauld in till a cokkill schell.
A stalwart man of hairt and hand,' he wooed for seven years
Mayiola, or Mayok, the 'golks of Maryland'; and yet 'scho wes
bot zeiris thre. ' This 'bony bird'had but one eye, and her 'foir-
fute wes langar than hir heill. Berdok set out to ravish the 'golk,'
and, finding her milking her mother's kine, cast her in a creel
on his back. On his return, his load proved to be but a “howlat
nest, full of skait birdis. '
And than this Berdok grett
And ran agane Meyok for to gett.
But the king of Faery was now in pursuit, and the lover took
refuge in a ‘killogy With the assistance of the kings of the
Picts and Portugal, Naples and Navern (Strathnaver), the lord
of Faery laid siege. The attackers mounted guns and fired at
Berdok with bullets of raw dough. Jupiter prayed Saturn to save
the lover by turning him into a toad; but Mercury transformed
him into a bracken bush.
And quhen thay saw the buss waig to and fra,
Thay trowd it wes ane gaist, and thay to ga;
Thir fell kingis thus Berdok wald haif slane;
All this for lufe, luveris sufferis pane;
Boece said, of poyettis that wes flour,
Thocht lufe be sweit, oft syiss it is full sour.
It is not necessary to hold with Laing that this piece was intended
3 cabbage.
3 cuckoo.
• Dungbirds,' a name applied to the Arctic gull.
5 The entrance or recess of a kiln, to help the draaght.
1 rest.


## p. 277 (#295) ############################################

Burlesque Poems
277
as a burlesque of some popular 'gest' or romance : the comic elfin
intention may be accepted on its own merits.
There is more of direct parody in the interlude of the Laying
of Lord Fergus's Gaist, beginning
Listis lordis, I sall 30w tell
Off ane verry grit mervell,
Off Lord Ferguss gaist,
How mekle Schir Andro it chesti
Vnto Beittokis bour.
It indulges, amid its satire of the ritual of exorcism, in the quaintest
fancy.
Suppois the gaist wes littill
Zit it stall Godis quhittilla;
It stall fra peteouss Abrahame
Ane quhorle3 and ano quhum quhame 4;
It stall fra the carle of the mone
Ane pair of auld yrn schone;
It ran to Pencaitlane
And wirreit ane auld chaplane.
Its allusions to Colkelbeis Feist' and 'St Bettokis Bour' would
establish its kinship, even if its manner did not make this
evident.
Lichtounis Dreme helps us a little to the secret of this
skimble-skamble' verse. The rimer asks 'Quha douttis dremis
ar bot phantasye? ' and proceeds :
My spreit was reft, and had in extasye,
My heid lay laich into this dreme but dout;
At my foirtop my fyve wittis flew out,
I murnit, and I maid a felloun mane 5:
Me thocht the King of Farye had me tane,
And band me in ane presoun, fute and hand,
Withoutin reuth, in ane lang raip of sand :
To pers the presoun wall it was nocht eith,
For it wes mingit and maid with mussill teith,
And in the middis of it ane myir of flynt;
I sank thairin, quhill I wes neir hand tynt;
And quhen I saw thair wes none uthir remeid,
I flychterit? vp with ane feddrem of leid.
He rambles on, telling of his escape to 'mony divers place,' and at
last to Peebles and Portjafe. Then he sailed in a barge of draff
to Paradise.
6
Be we approchit into that port in hye,
We ware weill ware of Enoch and Elye,
Sittand, on Yule evin, in ane fresch grene schaw,
Rostand straberreis at ane fyre of snaw.
1 chased.
6 moan.
9 knife.
easy.
3 whorl.
i Auttered.
nick-nack. '


## p. 278 (#296) ############################################

278 Anonymous and Popular Scottish Verse
Like Gog Magog's kin in Dunbar's interlude, he makes free with
the interlunar spaces. Later in the poem, when telling how he
desired to leave the moon, he says:
Bot than I take the sone beme in my neifi
And wald haif clumin, bot it was in ane clipss;
Schortlie I slaid, and fell upoan my hips,
Doun in ane midow, besyde ane busk of mynt;
I socht my self, and I was sevin yeir tynt,
Yit in ane mist I fand me on the morne.
We need not follow his adventure with the Pundler and the three
white whales which appeared at the blast of the "elriche horne. '
The conclusion is suggestive. When Lichtoun monicus' awakes,
he asks:
Quhair, trow ye, that I was ?
Doun in ane henslaik 6, and gat ane felloun fall,
And lay betuix ane picher and the wall.
And he adds :
As wyffis commandis, this dreme I will conclude;
God and the rude mot turn it all to gud!
Gar fill the cop, for thir auld carlingis7 clames
That gentill aill is oft the causs of dremes.
Another wife, in later verse, warned her Tam how by 'bousing at
the nappy' he would be catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk. '
In the bacchanalian quality shown in different ways in these
rustic sketches and elfin dream-poems we have a third tradition
of Scottish verse. It would, of course, be vain to seek a complete
explanation of the eighteenth century convivial muse in the
historical evidences of a literary habit—as vain as to estimate
the general effect of Burns's work as an editorial modification of
old material; but the testimony of historical continuity, in theme,
in attitude and in technique, is too strong to be overlooked in
a survey of Scottish literature. The more thorough and connected
the survey is, the clearer will it appear that the rusticity, the wild
humour and the conviviality are not more the idiosyncrasies of
Burns and his fellow poets than the persistent, irrepressible
habits of the literature itself. Criticism has been too willing
to treat pieces like Burns’s Scotch Drink as mere personal
enthusiasm.
The best of all the Middle Scots convivial verse is Dunbar's
Testament of Mr Andro Kennedys, but some of the anonymous
pieces in the collections deserve mention. Quhy sould nocht
į fist, hand.
2 climbed.
3 eclipse.
• So signed in the MS.
6 In a poultry-yard : say, 'in the mire. '
women.
8 See Chapter .
1
>
4 lost.
7


## p. 279 (#297) ############################################

Convivial Verse
279
Allane honorit be? is a sprightly “ballat' on ‘Allan-a-Maut,' alias
John Barleycorn. By a misreading of the subscription in the MS
-'Quod Allane Matsonis suddartis? '-the poem has been given
to one Watson. It tells the history of 'Allan' from his youth, when
he was 'cled in grene,' to his powerful manhood.
The grittest cowart in this land,
Fra he with Allane entir in band,
Thocht he may nowdir gang nor stand,
zit fowrty sall nocht gar him flie:
Quhy sowld nocht Allane honorit be?
'Allane' too
is bening, courtass, and gude,
And servis ws of our daly fvde,
And that with liberalitie;
Quhy sowld nocht Allane honorit be?
The theme is familiar in Burns's John Barleycorn, itself based
on an older popular text. Another in the Bannatyne MS, in
eleven-lined stanzas, and signed 'Allanis subdert,' anathematises
the bad brewer and praises the good.
Quba hes gud malt, and makis ill drynk,
Wa mot be hir werd!
I pray to God scho rott and stynk
Sevin şeir abone the eird.
And another piece 'I mak it kend, he that will spend,' in the same
collection, is, appropriately, given to ‘John Blyth,' a fellow-reveller
with Allan's jolly-boys.
Now lat we sing with Chrystis blissing,
Be glaid and mak gude sound:
With an 0, and ane I, now or we forder found 3,
Drink thow to me, and I to the,
And lat the cop go round.
In the foregoing groups we find the representative and historical
qualities of the national verse, the timbre of Scotticism: in the
large residue of anonymous pieces in the collections we encounter
the familiar fifteenth and sixteenth century southern types.
Fabliaux, in the manner of the Freiris of Berwik", are not
numerous. The Thrie Priestis of Peblis is a long didactic tale,
or set of tales, with a politico-social purpose, kin in spirit with
Lyndsay's verse, or the prose Complaynt of Scotlande, or the
fragmentary recension of the Talis of the Fyve Bestis in the
Asloan MS. The truer note of the fabliau is struck in the tale
1 'subjects. '
3. before we farther go. '
º join company.
• See Chapter z.