'For evermair, I wait, and langer too;' A threif of cakes, I trow sho spared them noucht, Furmage full fine sho broucht instead of jeil, Instead of spice, to creish their teeth witha'. Thus made they merry, while they micht nae mair, Syne comfort gave, with words as honey sweet. With water kail, and green beans and peas. And bade God speed. The burgess up then gat, Till he was gane, her cheer was all the better: Thy guise is gude, thy gane-full sour as gall; The fashion of thy feris is but fair, So shall thou find hereafterward may fall. I thank yon curtain, and yon parpane wall, Of I cannot tell how afterward sho fure. But I heard syne she passit to her den, Blissed be simple life, withouten dreid; The Garment of Good Ladies. I should a garment goodliest Of high honour should be her hood, Her sark3 should be her body next, Of chastity so white : With shame and dread together mixt, The same should be perfyte.4 Her kirtle should be of clean constance, The mailies of continuance, For never to remove. Her gown should be of goodliness, Her belt should be of benignity, To thole 9 both wind and weit. 10 Her shoen should be of sickerness, Would she put on this garment gay, WILLIAM DUNBAR. This wavering warld's wretchedness The sliding joy, the gladness short, For to consider is ane pain. allegorical poems are the Thistle and the Rose (a triumphant nuptial song for the union of James and the Princess Margaret), the Dance, and the Golden Terge; but allegory abounds in many others, which do not strictly fall within this class. Perhaps the most remarkable of all his poems is one of those WILLIAM DUNBAR, a poet,' says Sir Waltersion of the seven deadly sins in the infernal regions, here enumerated, the Dance. It describes a procesScott, unrivalled by any that Scotland has ever and for strength and vividness of painting, would produced,' flourished at the court of James IV., at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the six-stand a comparison with any poem in the language. teenth centuries. His works, with the exception of clusively moral poems of Dunbar, is one in which he The most solemn and impressive of the more exone or two pieces, were confined, for above two centuries, to an obscure manuscript, from which they sides in a debate on earthly and spiritual affections, represents a thrush and nightingale taking opposite were only rescued when their language had become the thrush ending every speech or stanza with a so antiquated, as to render the world insensible in a recommendation of a lusty life in Love's service,' great measure to their many excellencies. To no other circumstance can we attribute the little justice that and the nightingale with the more melodious declais done by popular fame to this highly-gifted poet, There is, however, something more touching to comration, All Love is lost but upon God alone.' who was alike master of every kind of verse, the solemn, the descriptive, the sublime, the comic, and mon feelings in the less laboured verses in which he the satirical. Having received his education at the moralises on the brevity of existence, the shortness university of St Andrews, where, in 1479, he took and uncertainty of all ordinary enjoyments, and the the degree of master of arts, Dunbar became a friar wickedness and woes of mankind. of the Franciscan order (Grey Friars), in which capacity he travelled for some years not only in Scotland, but also in England and France, preaching, as was the custom of the order, and living by the alms of the pious, a mode of life which he himself acknowledges to have involved a constant exercise of falsehood, deceit, and flattery. In time, he had the grace, or was enabled by circumstances, to renounce this sordid profession. It is supposed, from various allusions in his writings, that, from about the year 1491 to 1500, he was occasionally employed by the king (James IV.) in some subordinate, but not unimportant capacity, in connexion with various foreign embassies, and that he thus visited Germany, Italy, Spain, and France, besides England and Ireland. He could not, in such a life, fail to acquire much of that knowledge of mankind which forms so important a part of the education of the poet. In 1500, he received from the king a pension of ten pounds, afterwards increased to twenty, and finally to eighty. He is supposed to have been employed He is, at the same time, by no means disposed habituby James in some of the negotiations preparatory to ally to take gloomy or desponding views of life. He his marriage with the Princess Margaret, daughter has one poem, of which each stanza ends with For of Henry VII., which took place in 1503. For some to be blyth methink it best.' In another, he advises, years ensuing, he seems to have lived at court, re- since life is so uncertain, that the good things of this galing his royal master with his poetical composi-world should be rationally enjoyed while it is yet tions, and probably also his conversation, the charms possible. Thine awn gude spend,' says he, while of which, judging from his writings, must have been thou has space.' There is yet another, in which very great. It is sad to relate of one who possessed these Horatian maxims are still more pointedly so buoyant and mirthful a spirit, that his life was enforced, and from this we shall select a few not, as far as we can judge, a happy one. He ap- stanzas:pears to have repined greatly at the servile courtlife which he was condemned to lead, and to have longed anxiously for some independent source of income. Amongst his poems, are many containing nothing but expressions of solicitude on this subject. He survived the year 1517, and is supposed to have died about 1520, at the age of sixty; but whether he ultimately succeeded in obtaining preferment, is not known. His writings, with scarcely any exception, remained in the obscurity of manuscript till the beginning of the last century; but his fame has been gradually rising since then, and it was at length, in 1834, so great as to justify a complete edition of his works, by Mr David Laing. The poems of Dunbar may be said to be of three classes, the Allegorical, the Moral, and the Comic; besides which there is a vast number of productions composed on occasions affecting himself, and which may therefore be called personal poems. His chief Or, The suggared mouths, with minds therefra, in another poem Evermair unto this warld's joy, His very heir, succeedés Pain. Be merry, man, and tak not sair in mind The wavering of this wretched world of sorrow; For oft with wise men it has been said aforow, Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends, For warld's wrak but welfare3 nought avails; Remanant all thou bruikes but with bails 4 Follow on pity, flee trouble and debate, With famous folkis hald thy company; Be charitable and hum'le in thine estate, For warldly honour lastes but a cry. For trouble in earth tak no melancholy; Be rich in patience, if thou in gudes be poor; Who lives merrily he lives mightily; Without Gladness availes no Treasure. The philosophy of these lines is excellent. Dunbar was as great in the comic as in the solemn strain, but not so pure. His Twa Married Women and the Widow is a conversational piece, in which three gay ladies discuss, in no very delicate terms, the merits of their husbands, and the means by which wives may best advance their own interests. The Friars of Berwick (not certainly his) is a clever but licentious tale. There is one piece of peculiar humour, descriptive of an imaginary tournament between a tailor and a shoemaker, in the same low region where he places the dance of the seven deadly sins. It is in a style of the broadest farce, and full of very offensive language, yet as droll as anything in Scarron or Smollett. The Merle and Nightingale. In May, as that Aurora did upspring, With crystal een chasing the cluddes sable, I heard a Merle with merry notis sing A sang of love, with voice right comfortable, Under this branch ran down a river bright, Ne'er sweeter noise was heard with living man, Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale; Cease, quoth the Merle, thy preaching, Nightingale : The Nightingale said, Fool, remember thee, 1 Age. And died himself, fro' dead him to succour O, whether was kythit there true love or none ! He is most true and stedfast paramour, And love is lost but upon him alone. The Merle said, Why put God so great beauty O Nightingale ! it were a story nice, For, aye, to love envy maun contrar be: God bade eke love thy neighbour fro the spleen ;2 And who than ladies sweeter neighbours be? A lusty life in Lovis service been. The Nightingale said, Bird, why does thou rave? 3 The Merle said, Love is cause of honour aye, The Nightingale said, True is the contrary; Then said the Merle, Mine error I confess : Then sang they both with voices loud and clear, Then flew thir birdis o'er the boughis sheen, To think how sung this Merle and Nightingale; The Dance. Of Februar the fifteenth nicht, I lay intill a trance; And then I saw baith heaven and hell: Methocht amangs the fiendis fell, Mahoun gart cry ane Dance Of shrewis that were never shriven,3 Agains the fast of Fastern's Even,4 To mak their observance He bade gallands gae graith a guise,5 And cast up gamonds" in the skies, As varlots does in France. Heillie 7 harlots, haughten-wise, 8 But yet leuch never Mahoun; While preests came in with bare shaven necks, Then all the fiends leuch and made gecks, Black-belly and Bausy-broun.9 Let see, quoth he, who now begins. And first in all the Dance was PRIDE, His kethat12 for the nanes.13 They grinned with hideous granes. Then IRE came in with sturt and strife; His hand was aye upon his knife, He brandished like a bear; Boasters, braggarts, and bargainers, After him, passit in to pairs, All boden in 'feir of weir,14 In jacks, and scrips, and bonnets of steel Some upon other with brands beft,15 With knives that sharp could shear. 1 Whose close disputation yet moved my thoughts. 2 The Devil. 5 Prepare a masque. 8 Haughtily. 3 Accursed men, who had never been absolved in the other world. 4 The eve of Lent. 6 Gambols. 7 Proud. The names of popular spirits in Scotland. 10 Something touching puffed up manners appears to be hinted at in this obscure line. 11 Large folds. 12 Robe. 13 For the occasion. 14 Arrayed in the accoutrements of war. 15 Gave blows. * Dunbar is a poet of a high order. ** His Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins, though it would be absurd to compare it with the beauty and refinement of the celebrated Ode on the Passions, has yet an animated picturesqueness not unlike that of Collins. The effect of both pieces shows how much more potent allegorical figures become, by being made to fleet suddenly before the imagination, than by being detained in its view by prolonged description. Dunbar conjures up the personified sins, as Collins does the passions, to rise, to strike, to disappear. "They come like shadows, so depart."'-CAMP BELL. Next in the Dance followed ENVY, Hid malice and despite : For privy hatred that traitor trembled ; And rouners of fals lesings, Next him in Dance came COVETICE, That never could be content: Full sleepy was his grunyie ;7 Mony sweir bumbard belly-huddron, Mony slute daw, and sleepy duddron, Him servit ay with sunyie.10 He drew them furth intill a chenyie, And Belial with a bridle reinyie Ever lashed them on the lunyie :11 In dance they were sae slaw of feet, They gave them in the fire a heat, And made them quicker of counyie.13 Nae menstrals playit to them, but doubt, And entered by brief of richt. By he the coronach had done shout, In hell great room they took: 4 Great quantity. 9 Slow and sleepy drabs. 12 Circulation, as of coin. 14 A compliment, obviously, to the poetical profession. 15 Pageant. In this stanza Dunbar satirises the outlandish habits and language of the Highlanders. The Devil sae deavit was with their yell, That in the deepest pot of hell, He smoorit them with smook. Tidings fra the Session. [A conversation between two rustics, designed to satirise the proceedings in the supreme civil law court of Scotland.] Ane muirland man, of upland mak, I tell you under this confession, I come of Edinburgh fra the Session. Is na man there that trusts another: Of innocent folk preveens a futher :2 That has his mind all on oppression; Wad look full heigh were not the Session. How feid and favour flemis7 discretion; Sic tidings heard I at the Session. Some castis summons, and some excepts; Some is put out of his possession ; Some goes to gallows with procession; Religious men of diverse places And are unmindful of their profession, The younger at the elder leers : Sic tidings heard I at the Session. Of Discretion in Giving. To speak of gifts and almos deeds: Some gives for thank, and some for threat; That ere the gift delivered be, And for a hood-pick halden is he, Then vice and prodigalitie, Some to the rich gives his gear, And, though the poor for fault2 sould die, In Giving sould Discretion be. And to auld servants list not see, In Giving sould Discretion be. Though all the contrair weel knaws he; In Giving sould Discretion be. Some takes o'er little authoritie, Suppose the devil tak all their sauls: Barons taks fra the tenants puir In mails and gersoms6 raisit o'er hie; 4 Complain. |