The Exhortatioun to all plesand thingis quhairin
man can haif delyte to withdraw thair plesure from mankynde, and to deploir the the Cruell Murther of umquhile
my Lord Regentis Grace.
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ZE Montaines murne, ze valayis vepe,
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Ze clouds and Firmament,
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Ze fluids dry up, ze seyis so depe
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Deploir our lait Regent.
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Ze greinis grow gray, ze gowanis dune
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Ze hard rocks ryve for sorrow:
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Ze Mariguildis forbid the sune
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To oppin zow everie morrow.
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Thow Lavand lurk, thow time be tint
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Thow Margelene swaif,
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Thow Camomylde, ze balme and Mint
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Zour fragrant odouris laif.
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Ze Baselik and Jonet flouris,
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Ze Gerofleis so sweit:
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And Violatis hap zow with schouris
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Of hailstaines snaw and sleit.
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Thow grene Roismary hyde thy heid,
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Schaw not thy fair blew blummis:
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In signe of dule lat na grene blaid
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On Lawraine grow or brwmis.
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Ze fruitfull treis produce na frute:
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And ze fair Rois treis widder:
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In earth ze sweit flouris tak na rute
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But wallow altogidder.
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Cum Nettillis, thornie breiris & rew,
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With all foull filthie weid,
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Now plant zow quhair thir sweit flouris grew,
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And place zow in their steid.
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Ze plesant byrdis lat be zour sang,
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Zour mirth in murning turne,
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And tak the Turtill zow amang
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To leirne zow how to murne.
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Thow luifsum Lark, & gay Goldspink
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Thow mirthfull Nychtingaill
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Lat be zour hevinly noitis and think
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His deith for to bevaill.
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Ze plesand Paun and Papingaw
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Cast of zour blyithlyke cullour,
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And tak the feddrum of the Craw
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In signe of wo and dolour.
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Now burne thyself O Phenix fair
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Not to revive againe,
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That we may him to the compair,
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Quhais lyke dois not remaine.
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Thow Pelican prepair thy beik
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And grind it scharpe and lang,
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To peirs our breistis that we may seik
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How to revenge this wrang.
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All birdis and beistis, all hillis & holtis
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All greinis and plesand treis,
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All Lambis & Kiddis, all Calvis & Colts,
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Absent zow from mens eyis.
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Ze gleds and howlets, ravins and rukis
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ze Crawis and Corbeis blak,
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Thair gutts mot be among zour cluikis
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That did this bludy fact.
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Ze Instruments of everie sort,
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That gaif to mankynde plesure,
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Now turne zour melodie and sport
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In murning and displesure.
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Ye Sone and Mone, and Planetis sevin
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ze glystring starris bricht,
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All ze Celestiall hoste of hevin
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Absconce zow from mens sicht.
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Ye zeiris and monethis, dayis & houris,
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zour naturall course withdraw
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In Somertyme be wynter schouris,
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Sleit, hailstaines, frost and snaw.
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For why sum men dois travell now,
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To turne all upsyde downe,
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And als to seik the maner how
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To reif the King his Crowne.
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We had ane Prince of gude Renoun,
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That Justice did desyre,
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Aganis quhome the Hammiltoun
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Did traterously conspyre.
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Quha schot him of the Bischoppis stair
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In Lythgow thair Londoun,
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To bruik this byworde ever mair
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Fy Tratour Hammiltoun.
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Sen Christ hes tane him to his fader,
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This is the best remeid,
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That ze trew Lordis togidder gadder
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For to revenge his deid.
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Sen thay have wrocht sic thing agane us
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Traist weill thay cair not neist
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To kill the King, for quhy Cardanus
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The Feind pat in the Preist.
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France hes na rest, yat is na bourdis,
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Thocht sum seis not ane styme,
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How France dois feide thame with fair wordis
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For to dryve of the tyme.
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The Frenche men sayis adveis le fein,
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Quhilk is as muche to say
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Quhenever thay bring hame the Quene,
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Thay sall repent that day.
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Ye Lords that now this draucht hes drawin
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Suppois ze have left Rome,
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zit wald ze that zour Names war knaw-in
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Athort all Cristindome.
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Sa Nero did, bot not for gude,
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Quha brunt Rome to considder
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Quhat fyre it was, syne sched the blude
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Of his Maister and Mother.
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Sa was he spokin of for sic thing
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Methink as ze wald be,
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That sweir oft to manteine the King
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And his authoritie.
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Ze did him also King proclame
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And haldis of him offices,
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Pensionis ze hald als in Name,
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With teinds and benifices.
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Now wald ye change and chaisson ya[?]
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And bring on deidly feidis,
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Ze worke maist lyke ye wat not quhat
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With your Politick heidis.
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Now wyselie wirke, be not dissavid,
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For and scho get hir will,
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Scho will Revenge the deith of David,
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Carbarrie and Langsyde hill.
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Ze Lordis that now sa faine wald haif
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Up hir authoritie,
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Cannot yow clenge mair nor the laif
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Of sum pointis of thir thre.
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Heirfoir gif ye sa faine wald have hir
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To fulfill your affeckis,
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Gif ye may get hir than ressaif hir
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Withraipis about your neckis.
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Byde ye in Burgh quhill Michaelmes
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your money will growe skant,
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Heirfoir my counsell is expres
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That to your wyfis ye hant.
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For quhy it is ane wyfis quarrell
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Ye wald sa faine set furth,
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As now ye may heir Maddie tell
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It is bot lytil gude worth.
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As ye haif browne now drink ye that
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Ye se how all is cum,
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For had I wittin that I wait
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Allace is Scotts wisdume.
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Now best it war to leif sic thing,
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Lest strangers cum and wrang us,
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Ane God, ane faith, ane Law, ane King
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Let us observe amang us.
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And to conclude I mak ane end
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Praying our God of micht,
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To saif our King and him defend
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In his undoutit richt.
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With all trew Subjectis in thir partis
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Of his authoritie:
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Beseiking God to joyne the heartis
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Of our Nobilitie.
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