PHILERNO

Good sirs is nane of ȝow can tell, In quhat strait dois Alberto dwell, Or be quhat sing I'll knaw my fell, Good brothers all about: For thought I be his Soon and Heir, I knaw him not a myte the More, And to this Town dois now repair, My father to find out. Father, I heartily am content, And heirto gives my full consent, For it riched fair walled me repent, Give I should ȝow gainstand. I shall ȝour dochter Husband sweit, Nam less nor my companȝeoun treit, And follow baith at bed and meit, Quhill that I be ane bride. How dois the quheill of Fortune go, Quhat wicked weird hes wrought our woe? Brisilla ȝouris and mine also, Unhappily, I say: Our father's baith hes done agrie, That I to ȝouris, evin as ȝe sie, And ȝe to mine shall married be, And all upon ane day. Hard is our hap and luckless chance. Quha pities us suppose we pance? Full oft this mater did I skance, Bot with my self before: I have be threatnit and forflittin, Sa oft that I am with it bittin, Invent a way or it be wittin, And remedy therefore. It profeitis not for to compleine, Let us forsie our selves between, How we this perrell may preueine, And saif us From their snairis: Give that the Gods, as they well can, Walled me transform until ane man, We twa our selves should marry than, And saif us From their cairis, Quhy not? give that with faith we pray For oft the Gods as I hard say, Hes done the like and ȝit they may, Perchance till us agrie. That Iphis was a Maid we reid, And swa did for his prayer speid, For very ruth the Gods indeed, Transformde his in ane man: Pigmaleons prayer purchased life, Unto his new eburneall wife, Quhais hands had carved his with ane knife, With visage paill and won. Quhy may not now also well as than, The Gods convert me in ane man, The like give that my prayer can, I surely will assay: Mayest secret Gods Celestial, Ȝe michtie Muifers great and small, And Heauinlie powers ane and all, Mayest humbly I ȝow pray, Lycia down from ȝour impyre above, And from ȝour heich triumphant Throne, Till us puir saullis send succour soon, Of ȝour mayest special grace: Behald how we puir Madynis murne, For fear and luif how baith we burn, Therefore until ane man me turn, For till eschew this case. Behald our Parents hes oppressed, And by all Due their Daughters dressed, With meit matches to molest, Us silly saullis ȝe sie: Therefore immortal Gods of grace, Grant that our prayers may taken place, Convert my kind, this careful case, With solace to supply. Oh blissful Deitis divine, Mayest happy convent, Court and Tryne, That dois ȝour glorious eiris incline, Our prayers to adheir: We rander thanks unto ȝow all, For heiring us when that we call, And ridding us from bondage thrall, As plainly dois appear. I am ane man Brisilla lo, And with all necessaris thereto, May all that any man may do, I shall gar ȝow consider: Now sen the Gods abone hes brought, This wondrous work, and hes it wrought, And grantit all evin as we sought, Let us be glaid together. Gar wsche this house for it grows lait Husband I have for to debate, With ȝow a little of estait, Before we go to bed: Sen I am young and ȝe ar old, My courage keen, and ȝe bot cauld, The ane mon to the uther fauld, A faith defoir we sched. Nam be my saull we is wit believe, Quha gets the upper hand: Indeed thou shall beir me a beuell, For with my Neiues I shall the navel, Old custrone Carl taken their a revel, Than do as I command. Than hecht in haist therefore that thou Shall ready at my bidding bow, Quhat ever I do thou shall allow, My fancy to fulfil: Sa gang I out, sa cum I in, Sa give I waist, sa give I win, Quhat ever I do make ȝe nam din, Bot let me wirk my will. Thou may not speir the cause, & quhy, When that I list not with ȝow lie, Quhat I the did, and thou deny, We will not well agrie: When that I pleis forth to repair Speir not the company, nor where: Content thy self and make nam More. I man thy master be. Quhat is ȝour price Damesall fair? Quhat taken ȝe for a nichts lair? I'll get a man, have heir a Crown, Bot be well strange when ȝely down, Make nice and gar the Larbair lown, Believe ȝe be a Maid: Heir I am cum to read the strife, For I am neither Deill nor Wife, Bot am ane young man be my life, Ȝour Soon sir, and ȝour Air. Whom ȝe for Emily have taken. And walled not sirs let me allane, Quhill ȝe saw quhat gait it is gane, I can tell ȝow nam More. I am content with heart and will, This Marriage father to fulfil, Quhat neidis Philotus to think ill, Or ȝit his weird to wary. Father I grant my hail offence, Their claithes I have taken till Gam hence, And give it please ȝow till dispense, With their things that ar passed: Their bygane faults will ȝe forgive, And after father quhili I live, Again I shall ȝow never grieve, Quhill that my life may last. Schaw me the manner and the way, And I ȝour bidding shall obey, And never shall ȝour will gane say, Bot be at ȝour command: Gam when ȝe list sir, I am ready, Their is ane Gus-heid, for be our Lady, I was ȝour Soon, and ȝe my Dadie, This morning in the mirk.