JOHN THE COMMONWEAL

Thankit be christ yat buir the crown of thorn For I was never sa blithe sen I was b ne Forsuith they call me John the continued ̄ mon-weil. Good master I walled speir at ȝou ane thing, Where traist ȝe I shall, find ȝon new cumde King? The mekil fiend resave the saul that leid. All that I say is true thought thou be greifit, And that I offer on thy pallet to preif it. Now be this day I may nam faster gang. John to the King. Good day, good day, grit God saif baith ȝour graces Wally, wally fallen they twa well fairde faces. Their canker cullours I ken them be the heads As for our reverend father's of Spirituality, They ar led be Couetice and cairles Sensuality. And as ȝe see Temporality hes neid of correction Quhilk hes Long time be led be public oppression Lo where the loun lyis lurkand at his back, Get up I think to see thy craig gar ane raip crack. Lo heir is Falset and Dissait well I ken, Leiders of the Merchant's and silly craftsmen. Quhat mervell thought the thrie estaits backwart gang? When sic and vile company dwells them among. Quhilk hes reulit this rout money deir days, Quhilk gars John the continued ̄ mon-weil want his warm clais Sir call them before ȝow and put them in ordour, Or else John the common-weil man beg on the bordour. []Thou feinȝeit Flattery the fiend fart in thy face, When ȝe was guider of the Court we got little grace. Rise up Falset and Dissait without any sunȝe, I pray God nor the devils dame dryte on thy grunȝe. Behauld as the loun lukis evin like a thief, Money wicht warkman thou brought to mischief's. My sovereign Lord Correction I make ȝow supplication, Put their tryit truikers from Christis congregation. That shall I do as I best can, I shall hauld out baith wife and man Ȝe man let this puir creature, Support me for till keip the dure. I knaw his name full sickerly, He will complain also well as I. I pray ȝow sir begin first at bordour. For how can we send us again England When we can nought within our native Land, Destroy our awin Scots, common trator theifis, Quha to leill laborers daily dois mischeifis. [] War I ane King my Lord be Gods wounds, Quha ever held continued ̄ mon theifis within their bounds: Quhairthrow that daily leilmen might be wrangit Without remeid their chiftanis should be hangit, Quhidder he war ane knicht, ane Lord or Laird The Devil draw me to hell and he war spaird. Sir I compleine upon the idill men: For quhy sir it is Gods awin bidding All Christian men to wirk for their living. Sanct Paull that pillar of the Kirk, Says to the wretchis that will not wirk And be to virtues laith This is in Inglische tongue or leit: Quha labours nought he shall not eit. This be against the strange beggars, Fiddlers, pipers, and pardoners: Their Iugglars, Iestars, and idill cuitchours, Their carriers and their quintacensours: Their babil-beirers and their bairds, Their sweir swyngeours with Lords and Lairds: Ma then their rends may sustain, Or to their profeit needful be, Quhilk be ay blythest of discords, And deidly feid among thar Lords. For then they sleutchers man be treatit Or else their querrels vndebaitit. This be against their great fat Freiris, Augustenes, Carmleits and Cordeleirs: And all uthers that in cowls be cled, Quhilk labours nought and be well fed. I mein nought laborand Spiritually, Nor for their living corporally: Lyand in dennis like idill dogs I them compair to well fed hoggis I think they do them selfis abuse, Sing that they the World refuse: Haifing professed sic poverty, Sin fleis fast From necessity. Quhat give they poverty walled profess? And do as did Diogenes, That great famous Philosophour, Sing in earth bot vain labour, Alutterlie the World refused, And in ane tomb him self inclusit, And leifit on herbs and water cauld, Of corporal fude nam More he walled. He trottit nought from town to town, Beggand to feid his carrion. From time that life he did profess, The walled of him was cummerles. Right sa of Marry Magdalene, And of Marry th'Egyptiane: And of old Paull the first Hermeit, All their had poverty compleit. Ane hundredth ma I might declair, Bot to my purpois I will fair: Concluding sleuthfull idilnes, Against the Common-weill express. Marry on ma and ma again. For the pure peopill cryis with cairis, The infetching of Justice airies: Exercit More for couetice, Then for the punisching of vice. Ane peggrell thief that steillis ane kow, Is hangit bot he that steillis ane bow With also meikill geir as he may turs, That thief is hangit be the purs. Sic pykand peggrall theifis ar hangit, Bot he that all the World hes wrangit, Ane cruel tyrant ane strange transgressor, Ane common public plain oppressor, By buds may he obtain favours Of Treasurers and compositours. Thought he serve great punition, Gets easy composition: And throch laws consistorial Prolixt, corrupt and perpetual. The common peopill ar put sa under, Thought they be puir it is nam wonder. Grandmerces then I shall nought spair, First to compleine on the Vickair. The pure Cottar being like to die, Haifand young infants twa or thrie: And hes twa ky but any ma, The Vicar most have ane of they: With the grey frugge that covers the bed, Howbeit the wise be purely cled, And give the wife die on the morn, Thought all the bairns should be forlorn, The uther kow he cleiks away With the pure cot of raploch grey. Walled God this custom war put down, Quhilk never was found it be ressoun. Our Person heir he takes nam uther pine, Bot to ressaue his teinds and spend them sin. Howbeit he be obleist be Good ressoun, To preich the Evangel to his parochoun. Howbeit they should want preaching sevintin ȝeir. Our Person will not want ane scheif of beir. the fiend ressaue they flattrand chafts: Sir Domine I trowit ȝe had be dum. Where Devil got we this ill fairde blaitie bum? On that sir Scribe I taken ane instrument. Quhat do ȝe of the corspresent and kow? Quhat give King David war leiuand in their days? The quhilk did found sa money gay Abayis: Or out of heavin quhat give he luikit down? And saw the great abomination: Among their Abesses and their Nunneries, Their public huirdomes and their harlotries, He walled repent he narrowit sa his bounds, Of ȝeirlie rend thries coir of thousand pounds. His successors makes little ruisse I ges, Of his devotion or of his holiness. King James the first Roy of this Region, Said that he was ane sair Sanct to the crown. I heir men say that the was something blind, That gave away More nor he left behind. His successors that halines did repent, Quhilk gart them do great inconvenient. Me think ȝe speak as ȝe war wraith, To ȝow I will nathing declair, For ȝe ar nought my ordinair I trow to God to see the hangit: War I ane King be coks passion, I should gar make ane congregation, Of all the freirs of the four ordouris, And make ȝow vagers on the bordours, Sir will ȝe give me audience, And I shall schaw ȝour excellence: Sa that ȝour grace will give me leife How into God that I belief. I belief in God that all hes wrought, And create every thing of nought. And in his Son our Lord Jesu, Incarnate of the Virgin true: Quha under Pilot tholit passion, And deit for our Salvation. And on the third day rays again, As holy scriptour schawis plane. And also my Lord it is well kenned, How he did to the heavin ascend: And set him down at the riched hand, Of God the father I understand. And shall cum judge on Dumisday, Quhat will ȝe More sir that I say? I trow Sanctam Ecclesiam, Bot nought in their Bishops nor their Freirs, Quhilk will for purging of their neirs. [] Sard up the ta raw and down the uther, The mekill Devil resave the fidder. Marry John the common-weil of fair Scotland Ȝe sir that gars the commoun-weil want clais. Because the common-weill hes be overlukit Because the thrie estaits gangs all backwart. My lords ȝe have riched prudently concludit, Taken tent now how the land is clein denudit: Of gold and silver quhilk daily gais to Room, For buds, More then the rest of Christindome. War I ane King sir be coks passion, I should gar make ane proclamation. That never ane penny should go to Room at all, Nam More then did to Peter nor to Paull. Dam ȝe nought sa, heir for conclusion I give ȝow all my braid black malesoun.