Page:Poems of William Dunbar (1834) Vol 2.djvu/76

66

For it is nowthir wynning nor rewaird,

Bot tinsale baith of honour and of fame,

Incress of sorrow, sklander, and evill name;

Yit mycht thay be sa bald, in thair bakbytting,

To gar me ryme, and rais the feynd with Flyting,

And throw all cuntreis, and kinrikis thame proclame.

, quhome on blawis thow thy boist?

Pretendand thé to wryte sic skaldit skrowis;

Ramowd rebald, thow sall doun att the roist,

My laureat letters at thé and I lowis;

Mandrag, mymmerkin, maid Maister bot in mowis,

Thryse scheild trumpir, with ane threid bair goun,

Say, "Deo mercy," or I cry thé doun,

And leif thy ryming, rebald, and thy rowis.

Dreid, dirtfast dearch, that thow lies dissobeyit

My cousing and my Commissar;

Fantastik fule, trest weill thow salbe fleyit,

Ignorant elf, aip, owll irregular,

Skaldit skaitbird, and commoun skameiar;

Wan [thriven] sunling, that Natour maid ane yrle,

Baith and thow, sall squeill and skirle,

And evir I heir ocht of your making mair.

Heir I put syleuce to thé in all partis,

Obey and ceis the play that thow pretendis;