craftsmen, and is entertained by a tailor The second part opens with an interlude to amuse the people while the more refined portion of the audience are away several of the most prominent offenders, as Common Theft (representing the Border thieves), and Falsehood and Deceit are executed; and Flattery saves his own neck by undertaking the office of hangman to his fellows. In the stage directions for the execution of Falsehood, it is ordered that "ane craw or ane kae sall be castin up as it war his saull." The play concludes with a sort of tail-piece dialogue between Dilligence and Folly, in which the latter, after a coarse introduction, intimates that he has hats to dispose of suitable for the fools that he insinuates are a very plentiful crop in all ranks, from the highest to the lowest. PART THE SECOND. Pauper, the Poor man. refreshing themselves. It sets forth, in Of your alms, good folk, for God's love of a ludicrous but striking fashion, the heaven; For I have motherless bairns six or seven; Wish me the right way till St Andrews. Dilligence. What devil ails this crooked carl? Marry, meikle sorrow: I cannot get, though I gasp, to beg nor to borrow. Dilligence. Where devil is this thou dwells, or what's thy intent? Pauper. On the parliament being convened, John the Commonweal represents to the King the disasters which the Three Estates, under the guidance of the Vices, have brought upon the realm, and Verity and Chastity make special charges against the Spirituality. The Vices are now in their turn put into the stocks, and a general reform of the administration is brought about, while Sir even to St Andrews for to seek law. I dwell intill Lothian ane mile frae Tranent. to me shaw. Pauper. 2 Show me the matter, man, with all the The third cow he cleikèd by the head. Their upmaist claes 3 that was of raploch gray,4 circumstances; How that thou has happened on thir unhappy chances. Pauper. Goodman, will ye give me your charity, And I shall declare to you the black verity. My father was an old man and an hoar,3 And was of age fourscore of years and more; And Mald, my mother, was fourscore and fifteen, And with my labour I did them both sustain. The vicar gart his clerk bear them away. When all was gone I might make no de bate, But with my bairns past for till beg my meat. Now have I told you the black verity How I am brought into this misery. Dilligence. How did the parson? Was he not thy friend? Pauper. We had ane mare that carried salt and The devil stick him, he curst me for my coal, And everilk year she brought us home a foal. We had three kye, that was both fat and fair, Nane tidier into the town of Ayr. My father was so weak of blood and bone That he died, wherefore my mother made great moan; Then she died within ane day or two, And our lands laird took her for his heryeild.5 The vicar took the best cow by the head, Incontinent when my father was dead. teind ;5 And holds me yet under that same process That gart me want the sacrament at Pasche. In good faith, sir, though he would cut my throat, I have nae gear except ane English groat; Whilk I purpose to give ane man of law. Dilligence. Thou art the daftest fool that ever I saw ; Trows thou, man, by the law, to get remeid Of men of kirk? Nae, not till thou be dead. Pauper. I am Sir Robert Rome-raker, Admitted by the Pape: Whilk ye shall see and grape:1 Without that they debate it. Among the wives with wrinks and wiles, As all my marrowis3 men beguiles With our fair false flattery: Called Hypocrisy. But now, alas! our great abusion Of all credence now I am quite, That reads the New Testament. Dool fall the brain that has it wrought, That Martin Luther, that false loun,4 Had been smoorde 5 in their cud. Were never read in kirk, But, amongst friars into the mirk, [Here shall he lay down his gear upon ane board, and say:] My patent pardons, ye may see, Though ye have nae contrition, With help of books and bells. Was slain into Balquhidder. Here is ane cord, both great and long, Whilk hanged John the Armstrong, Of good hemp soft and sound: The culum 3 of Saint Bride's cow, He shall never gang to hell, Who loves their wives not with their heart, I have power them for till part: Me think you deaf and dumb. Has none of you crust wicked wives, That holds you untill sturt and strives, Come take my dispensation: Of that cumber5 I shall make you quite, Howbeit yourselves be in the wyte, And make ane false narration. Come, win the pardon; now let see, For meal, for malt or for money, For cock, hen, goose, or gryce Of relicts, here I have ane hunder. Why come ye not? this is ane wonder I trow ye be not wise. separated, much to their mutual satisfaction, by the performance of a ceremony of the coarsest possible description. Then the Pardoner's boy, Wilkin, makes his appearance, and gives us a peep into the secret of relic manufacture.] Wilkin. Hoaw! maister, hoaw! Where are ye I am here, Wilkin, widdie fow.* Sir, I have done your bidding, For I have found here ane great horse bone, Ane fairer saw ye never none, Upon dame Flesher's midding. [Here shall PAUPER rise and rax him.] Pauper. What thing was yon, that I heard crack 3 and cry? I have been dreamand and drivland of my kye. With my right hand my whole body I sain, 4 Saint Bride, Saint Bride, send me my kye again! I see standand yonder ane holy man, Come, win the pardon, and syne I shall thee sain. Pauper. Will that pardon get me my kye again? Carl, of thy kye I have nothing ado: too. [Here shall he sain him with his relics.] Pardoner. Ane thousand year, I lay upon thy head, With totiens quotiens: now, make na mair plead: ' Thou hast received thy pardon now already. Pauper. But I can see nothing, sir, by our lady: Forsooth, maister, I trow I be not wise To pay ere I have seen my merchandise. That ye have gotten my groat full sair Irue: Sir, whether is your pardon black or blue? And thou shall have my pardon even frae Maister, sen ye have tane frae me my Now lose thy purse, and lay down thy offrand, hand. cunzie,2 My merchandise shew me, withouten sunzie ;3 Or to the bishop I shall pass and plenzie, In Saint Andrews, and summon you to the senzie.5 Pardoner. What craves thou carl? methinks thou art not wise. Pauper. I crave my groat, or else my merchandise. I gave thee pardon for ane thousand year. Has thou nae other silver but ane groat? How shall I get that pardon, let me hear? With all my heart, maister, lo take it, there: leave. Pardoner. man. Pauper. Ane thousand years of pardon I thee give. Shall I get naething for my groat till than? |