SOUTAR

Welcum be him that maid the Moan, Till dwell with us till it be June: We shall mend baith ȝour hois and schone, And plainly taken ȝour partly. The fiend re laue the hands that gaif me that. Bishops ar blessed howbeit that they be waryit, [] For they may fuck their fill and be vnmaryit. Gossop alace, that black band we may wary, That ordanit sic puir men as us to marry. Quhat may be done bot taken in patience? And on all wyfis we'ill cry ane loud vengeance. Welcum hame Robert Rome-raker, Our holy patent pardoner: Give ȝe have dispensation, To pairt me and my wicked wife, And me deliver from sturt and strife, I make ȝow supplication. I have nam silver be my life, Bot five schillings and my schaipping knife, That shall ȝe have but sunȝe. Ane quick Devil Sir, ane storm of strife, Ane Frog that files the wind: []Ane fistand flag, a flagartie fuffe, At ilk ane pant scho lets ane puff, And hes nam ho behind. All the Long day scho me dispyts, And all the Night scho flings and flyts, Thus sleip I never ane wink: That Cockatrice, that common huir, The mekill Devil may nought in duir His stuburnnes and stink. Give I said ocht Dame be the Rude, Except ȝe war baith fair and Good, God nor I hang. I pray ȝow sir forbid his for to fart. Ane sowtar sir, nane better into Fyfe. Of that surname I neld nought be aschamit. For I can make schone brotekins and buittis, Give me the copy of the Kings cuittis. And ȝe shall see riched soon quhat I can do: Heir is my lasts and well wrought ledder lo Fill in and play cap'out, For I am wonder dry: []The Devil snyp aff their snout, That haits this company.