MACRELL

Nam sir, let me and that allane, Suppose scho war maid of a stane, I see gar his grant or all be gane, To be at ȝour command: Thought scho be strange, I think nam wonder, Blait things is soon brought in ane blunder, Scho is not the first sir, of ane hunder, That I have had in hand. I am ane Fish I am ane Eile, Can steir my tongue and tail riched well, I give me to the mekill Deill, Give any can do More: I can with fair anis fleitch and flatter, And win ane Crown bot with ane clatter, That gars me drink Good wine for water, Suppois my back Gam bair. God bliss ȝow Masters with ȝour Buik, Leise me they lips that I on luik: I hope in God to sie ȝow bruik, Ane noble house at hame: I ken ane Man into this town, Of highest honour and renown, That walled be glaid to give his Gown, For to have ȝow his Dame. Let that allane he is not sa old, Nor ȝit of courage half sa called, Bot give ȝe war his wife, ȝe walled, Be well aneuch concent: With him More treitment on ane day, And get More making off ȝe may, Nor with ane Wamster with to say, When twenty ȝeiris ar spent. Ȝe neither mell with lad nor loun, Bot with the best in all this town, His wife may ay fit formest down, At either burden or bink: Gang formest in at dure or ȝet, And ay the first gude-day walled get, With all men honourit and well tret, As any heart walled think. See quhat a woman's mind may meise And heir quhat honour, wealth and eise, Ȝe may get with him and ȝe pleise, To do as I devise: Ȝour fire shall first be birnand cleir, Ȝour Madynis than shall have ȝour geir, Put in Good or dour and effeir, Ilk morning or ȝow rise. And say, lo Masters heir ȝour Muillis, Put on ȝour Wylicote for it cuillis, Lo, heir ane of ȝour Veluote stuillis, Quhairon ȝe shall fit down: Than twasum cummis to cambe ȝour hair, Put on ȝour heidgeir soft and fair, Taken their ȝour glass sie all be clair, And sa gais on ȝour Gone. Than taken to stanchethe morning drouth. Ane cup of Mauesie for ȝour mouth, For fame cast sucker in at fouth, Together with a Toist: Thrie Garden gowps taken of the Air, And bid ȝour Page in haist prepair, For ȝour Disione sum dainty fair, And cair not for nam coist. Ane pair of Pleuaris pypping hait, Ane Pertrick and ane Quailȝie get, Ane cup of Sack, sweit and well set, May for ane breckfast gain. Ȝour Cater he may cair for sin, Sum undelicate again ȝe dine, Ȝour Cuke to season all sa fine, Than dois employ his pain. To sie ȝour servants may ȝe gang, And luck ȝour Madynis all among, And give their any work be wrang, Than bittern them blame, Than may ȝe have baith Quaiffis and Kellis, Hich Candy Ruffs and Barlet Bellis, All for ȝour weiring and not else, Maid in ȝour house at hame. And now when all their warks is done, For ȝour refresching eftern one, Gar bring unto ȝour chalmer soon, Sum danitie dische of meat: Ane cup or twa with Muscadall, Sum uther licht thing thairwithall, For Rasins or for Capers call, Give that ȝe please to eat, Till suppertyme then may ȝe chois, Unto ȝour Garden to repois, Or merely to taken ane glois, Or taken ane book and reid on: Sin to ȝour supper ar ȝe brought, Till fair full far that hes be sought, And dainty disches deirlie bocht, That Ladies loves to feid on. The Organs than into ȝour hall, With Schalme and Tymbrell found they shall, The Vyole and the Lute with all, To gar ȝour meat digest: The supper done than up ȝe rise, To gang ane quhyle as is the gyfe, Be ȝe have rowmit ane Alley thrice, It is ane mile almaist. Than may ȝe to ȝour Chalmer gang, Beguile the Night give it be Long, With talk and merry mows among, To elevate the spleen: For ȝour Collation taken and taist, Sum little licht thing till digest, At Night use Rense wine ay almaist, For it is could and clean. And for ȝour back I dar be bold, That ȝe fallen weir even as ȝe would, With doubill Garnischings of gold, And Craip above ȝour hair: Ȝour Veluote hat, ȝour Hude of Stait, Ȝour Myssell when ȝe gang to gait, From Soon and wind baith air and lait. To keip that face safair. Of Pareis work wrought by the laif, Ȝour fine Half-cheinzeis ȝe shall have, For to decoir ane Carkat craif That cumly Colour bane: Ȝour great gold Cheinzie for ȝour neck, Be bowsum to the Carl and beck, For he hes gold aneuch, quhat reck? It will not stand on nane. And for ȝour Gowns ay the new guise, Ȝe with ȝour Tailȝeours may devise, To have them louse with plets and plyis, Or clasped clois behind: The stuff my heart ȝe neid not haine, Pan Velvot, raised figurit or plain, Silk, Satyne, Damayse or Grograine, The finest ȝe can find. Ȝour claithes on cullouris cuttit out, And all Pasmentit round about, My blessing on that seemly snout, Sa well I trow shall set them: Ȝour schankis of silk ȝour velvot schone, Ȝour borderit Wylicote abone, As ȝe devise all shall be done, Vncraifit when ȝe get them. Ȝour Tablet be ȝour hals that hinges Gold bracelets and all uther things, And all ȝour fingers full of Rings, With Pearl and precious stanes: Ȝe shall have ay quhill ȝe cry ho, Rickillis of gold and jewellis Io, Quhat reck to taken the Bogill-bo, My bony burd for anis. Sweit heart quhat farther walled ȝe have. Quhat greiter pleasure walled ȝe crave, Now be my saull ȝow will de save, Ȝour self and ȝe forsaik him: Therefore sweit honey I ȝow pray, Taken tent in time and nought delay, Sweit sucker, neck me not with nay, Bot be content to taken him. For Venus game cure not a cuit, Waill me ane Wamfler that can do' it, Sen their may be nam uther buit, Plate on his head ane horn: Handill me that with wit and skill, Ȝe may have easements at ȝour will, At Night gar young men cum ȝow till, Put them away at morn. Ȝon dainty Dame scho is sa nice Sche'ill nought be win be nam deuyce, For nouther prayer nor for price, For gold nor uther gain. Scho is sa ackwart and sa thra, That with refuse I come his From, Scho, be Sanct Marry saynde me sa, I dar not Gam again, Good Gosse, sen ȝe have ever be, My true and old familiar friend, To make More quentance us between, I gladly could agrie: Ȝe have ane daughter whom until, I bear ane passing grit Good will, Quhais Phisnomie prefigures skill, With wit and honesty. Give me that Lass to be my wife, For Tocher-gude shall be nam strife, Believe me scho shall have ane life, And for ȝour geir I cair not: Faith ȝe ȝour self shall modify, His Life, Rend, Land and Conjunct fie, And Gossop, where they same shall be, Appoint the place and spair not. Betwixt us twa the Heyris-maill, Shall bruik my heritage all hail, Quhilks give that they happen to faill, To her Heyris quhat saeuer: My moveables I will divide, Ane pairt my Daughter to provide, Ane pairt to leave sum friend aside, When death shall us dissever. Philotus is the man a faith, Ane ground-rich man and full of graith: He wantis nam jewels claith nor waith, Bot is baith big and beine. Well war the woman all his life, Had hap to be his weddit wife, Scho might have gold and geir also rife, As Copper in his Rist: Ȝ , no a Lady in all this Land, I wait might have More wealth in hand, Nor m to have More at his command, To do with quhat scho list. Fair flower, now sen ȝe may him fang, It war not Good to let him gang, Unto ȝour self ȝe'ile oh great wrang, Sweit heart now and ȝe sl p him: Now their is twenty I oh this town, Of greitest riches and renown, That walled be glaid for to fit down, Upon their kneis to grip him. Thought he be avid my joy, quhat reek, When he is gave give him ane geek, And taken another be the neck, When ȝe the graith have gottin: Schaw me ȝour mind and quhat ȝe meine, I fallen convoy all this sa clein , That me ȝee fallen esteem ane freine, Q en I am dead and rottin.