The muses threnodie, or, mirthfull mournings, on the death of Master Gall Containing varietie of pleasant poëticall descriptions, morall instructions, historiall narrations, and divine observations, with the most remarkable antiquities of Scotland, especially at Perth By Mr. H. Adamson.

OF Master George Ruthven the teares and mournings, Amids the giddie course of Fortunes tur∣nings, Vpon his dear friends death, Master James Gall, Where his rare ornaments bear a part, and wretched Gabions all.

The first Muse.

NOW must I mourne for Gall, since he is gone, And yee my Gabions help me him to mone; And in your courses sorrow for his sake, * 1.1 Whose matchlesse Muse immortall did you make. Who now shall pen your praise, and make you known? By whom now shall your vertues be forth-shown? Who shall declare your worth? Is any able? Who dar to meddle with Apelles table?

Ai me there's none: And is there none indeed? Then must yee mourne of force, there's no remeed: And I, for my part, with you in my turne Shall keep a dolefull consort whilst ye mourne: And thus, with echoing voice, shall houle and cry, Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?

Now first my Bowes begin this dolefull song, * 1.2 No more with clangors let your shafts be flung In fields abroad, but in my cabine stay, And help me for to mourn till dying day. With dust and cobwebs cover all your heads, And take you to your matins and your beads, A requiem sing unto that sweetest soul, Which shines now, sancted, above either pole.

And yee my Clubs, you must no more prepare. To make you bals flee whistling in the aire, * 1.3 But hing your heads, and bow your crooked crags, And dresse you all in sackcloth and in rags, No more to see the Sun, nor fertile fields, But closely keep you mourning in your bields, And for your part the trible to you take, And when you cry make all your crags to crake, And shiver when you sing alace for Gall! Ah if our mourning might thee now recall!

And yee my Loadstones of Lidnochian lakes, * 1.4 Collected from the loughs, where watrie snakes Do much abound, take unto you a part, And mourn for Gall, who lov'd you with his heart: In this sad dump and melancholick mood The Burdown yee must bear, not on the flood,

Or frosen watrie plaines, but let your tuning Come help me for to weep by mournfull cruning.

And yee the rest, my Gabions lesse and more Of noble kinde, come help me for to roare, And of my wofull weeping take a part, Help to declare the dolour of mine heart.

How can I choose but mourne? when I think on Our games Olympike-like in times agone; * 1.5 Chieflie wherein our cunning vve did try, And matchlesse skill in noble archerie; In these our dayes vvhen archers did abound In Perth (then famous for such pastime found.) Amongst the first for archers vve vvere knovvn, And in that art our skil vvas lovvdly blovvn; What time Perths credit did stand vvith the best And bravest archers, this land hath possest. We spar'd nor gaines, nor paines for to report To Perth the vvorship, by such noble sport: Witnesse the links of Leith, vvhere Cowper, Grahame, And Stewart vvin the price and brought it home; And in these games did offer ten to three There to contend: Quorum pars magna fui.

I mourn good Gall, when I think on that stead, Where yee did haile your shaft unto the head, And with a strong and stedfast eye and hand So valiantly your bow yee did command; A slidrie shaft forth of its forks did fling, Clank gave the bow, the whistling aire did ring, The bowlt did cleave the clouds and threat the skyes, And thence, down falling, to the mark it flies,

Incontinent the aimer gave a token, The mark was kill'd, the shaft in flinders broken: Then softlie smyling, good Gall, thus quod I, Now finde I time my archerie to try, And heere by solemne vow I undertake, In token of my love, even for thy sake, Either to hit the mark, else shall I never, More with these armes of mine use bow and quiver. Therewith my ligaments I did extend, And then a noble shaft I did commend Unto my bow, then firmelie fixt mine eye, And closelie leveld at Orions knee, A star of greatest magnitude, who kend it * 1.6 So well as I, prayes you be not offended; (For I did use no magick incantation For to couduct my shaft I will finde cation.) Then cleverly my flen soone can I feather, Upon my left arme was a brace of leather; And with three fingers hailing up the string, The bow in semicircle did I bring; With soft and tender lowse out went the shaft, Amids the clouds the arrow flew aloft, And, as directed by a skilfull hand, With speedie flight the steadfast mark it sand, The aimer gave his signe, furth-with was known, The shot was mine, the boult in flinders flown, Above his shaft, in such difficile stead, Closely I hit the mark upon the head; Then on the plain we capreld wonder fast, Whereat the people gazing were agast;

VVith kinde embracements, did we thurst and thrimble, (For in these dayes I was exceeding nimble) VVe leapt, we danct, we loudly laught and cry'd: For in the earth such skill was never try'd In archerie, as we prov'd in these daies, Whereby we did obtaine immortall praise. Then Gossop Gall (quod I) I dar approve Thou hast a trustie token of my love.

VVhat shall be said of other martiall games? None was inlaking from whence bravest stemmes, Victorious trophees, palmes, and noble pynes Olives and lawrels, such as auncient times Decor'd the Grecian-victors in their playes, And worthie Romanes in their brave assayes, For tryall of their strength, each match'd with other, Whose beautie was, sweat mix'd with dust together. Such exercises did content us more Then if wee had possest King Croesus store.

But O! ye fields my native Perth neerby, Prayes you to speak, and truely testifie, What matchlesse skill we prov'd in all these places, Within the compasse of three thousand paces, On either side; while as we went a shooting, And strongly strove who should bring home the booting, Alongst the flowrie banks of Tay to Amound, Ay when I hit the mark I cast a gamound; And there we view the place where some time stood The ancient Bertha, now ov'rflow'd with flood * 1.7 Of mightie waters, and that Princely hold VVhere dwelt King William, by the streame down rold,

Was utterly defac'd, and overthrown, That now the place thereof scarce can be known.

Then through these haughs of faire and fertile ground, Which with fruit trees, with cornes, and flocks abound, Meandring rivers, sweet flowres, heavenly honey, More for our pastime then to conquesh money We went a shooting, both through plaine and park, And never stay'd till wee came to Lowswork: Built by our mightie Kings for to preserve us, That thenceforth waters should not drown, but serve us; Yet condescending it admits one rill Which all these plaines with cristall brooks doth fill, And by a conduit large three miles in length Serves to make Perth impregnable for strength At all occasions; when her clowses fall, Making the water mount up to her wall.

When we had viewd this mightie work at randon, We thought it best these fields for to abandon, And turning home-wards, spar'd nor dyke nor fowsie * 1.8 Untill we come unto the boot of Bowsie, Alongst this aqueduct, and there our station, We made, and viewd Balhowsies situation, O'reluking all that spacious pleasant valley, VVith flowres damasked, levell as an alley Betwixt and Perth, thither did we repair (For why the season was exceeding fair) Then all alongst this valley did we hye, And there the place we clearlie did espye. The precinct, situation and the stead, * 1.9 VVhere ended was that cruell bloodie fead

Between these cursed clans, Chattan, and Kay * 1.10 Before King Robert, Iohn; upon the day Appointed, then and there, where did conveene Thirtie 'gainst thirtie matcht upon that greene, Of martiall fellows, all in rageing mood Like furious Ajax, or Orestes wood, Alonely arm'd with long two-handed swords, Their sparkling eyes cast fire in steed of words, Their horride beards, thrown brovves, brusled mustages Of deadly blovves t'enshevv vvere vive presages.

Thus standing Fortuns event for to try, And thousands them beholding, one did cry VVith loud and mightie voice, Stay! hold your hands! A little space vve pray; The case thus stands; One of our number is not heere to day; This suddaine speach did make some little stay Of this most bloodie bargaine, th'one partie fight VVould not unlesse the number vvere made right Unto the adverse faction, nor vvas any That vvould it take in hand amongst so many Beholders of all ranks into that place: On th'other side none vvould sustaine disgrace To be debarred from his other fellovves, He rather hung seven yeeres upon the gallovves.

Thus as the question stood, vvas found at length One Henry wind, for triall of his strength The charge vvould take, a sadler of his craft, * 1.11 I vvot not vvell vvhether the man vvas daft, But for an half french crovvn he took in hand, Stoutly to fight so long as he might stand,

And if to be victorious should be tide him, They should some yeerly pension provide him. The bargaine holds: and then withall their maine Their braikens bukled to the fight againe; Incontinent the trumpets loudlie sounded, And mightilie the great bag-pipes were winded: Then fell they to't as fierce as any thunder, From shoulders armes, and heads from necks they sunder; All raging there in bloud, they hew'd and hasht, Their skin coats with the new cut were out••lasht; And scorning death, so bravely did they fight it, That the beholders greatlie were affrighted: But chiefly this by all men was observed, None fought so fiercely; nor so well deserved As this their hired Souldier, Henrie Winde, For by his valour victorie inclinde Vnto that side; and ever since those dayes This proverb current goes, when any sayes, How come you heere? This answere doth he finde, I'm for mine owne hand, as fought Henrie Winde. So finely fought he, ten with him escapt, And of th'other but one, in flood who leapt, And sav'd himself by swimming over Tay: But to speak more of this we might not stay.

Thence did we take us to the other hand, From this divided by a crystall strand: From whence the King beheld with open sight The long-time doubtfull event of this fight, From of his pleasant gardins, flowrie wall, Which we the guilted Arbor yet do call;

And here some monuments we did descrie, And ruin'd heaps of great antiquitie: There stood a temple, and religious place, And here a palace; but ah wofull cace! * 1.12 Where murthered was one of the bravest Kings For wisedome, learning, valour, and such things As should a Prince adorn; who trads and arts By men of matchlesse skill brought to thir parts, From Italie, Low Germanie, and France, Religion, learning, policie to advance, King Iames the first, of everlasting name, Kill'd by that mischant traitour, Robert Grahame, Intending of his crown for to have rob'd him, With twentie eight wounds in the breast he stob'd him.

Unnaturall parricide, most bloudie traitour! Accursed be thou above any creature, And curst be all, for so it is appointed, That dar presume to touch the Lords anointed.

This phoenix Prince our nation much decord, Good letters and civilitie restord, By long and bloudie wars which were defaced, His royall care made them be reembraced: And he this citie mightilie intended To have inhanc'd, if fates had condescended: For which if power answer'd good-will, we would With Gorgias Leontinus raise of gold A statue to him of most curious frame, In honour of his dear and worthie name. He likewise built most sumptuouslie fair That much renownd religious place, and rare,

The Charterhouse of Perth, a mightie frame, * 1.13 Vallis virtutis by a mystick name, Looking alongst that painted spatious field, Which doth with pleasure profite sweetly yeeld, The fair south Inch of Perth, and banks of Tay. This abbayes, stiples, and it's turrets stay While as they stood (but ah where sins abound The loftiest pride lyes leveld with the ground!) Were cunningly contriv'd with curious art, And quintessence of skill in everie part; My grandsire many times to me hath told it He knew their names this mightie frame who moldit: Italians some, and some were French men borne, Whose matchlesse skill this great work did adorne. And living were in Perth some of their race When that, alace, demolish'd was this place, For greatnesse, beautie, statlinesse so fair In Britans Isle, was said, none might compare

Even as Apelles for to prove his skill In limming Venus with a perfect quill, Did not on some one beautie take inspection, But of all beauties borrowed the perfection: Even so this Prince to policie inclinde, Did not on some one fabrick set his minde To make the prototype of his designe, But from all works did all perfections bring, And rarest paterns brought from everie part, Where any brave Vitruvius kyth'd his art, So that this great and princelie enterprise Perfections of all models did comprise.

And in this place where he doth buriedly VVas kept the Relict wherein he did dye; His doublet, as a monument reserv'd, And when this place was raz'd, it was preserv'd: VVhich afterwards I did see for my part, VVith hols through which he stab'd was to the heart.

Then, good Gall, thus quod I, what shew of reason Mov'd this unnaturall traitour work such treason? Reason! good Monsier, Gall did thus reply, Reason! so much in shew I do deny, Reason! No reason did he have at all, But wormwood, bitter malice Stygian gall VVithin this traitours heart did closely lurk, VVhich moved him this tragedie to work: And I would truelie tell this wofull storie, But that my tongue doth faile, mine heart's so sorie: Yet whiles that we unto the town do go, Monsier, the true occasion, will I show.

This worthie Prince, according to the taillie Made by King Robert, when heirs male should faillie, Of his Son David then Earle of Statherne, So soone, I say, the King as he did learne, That heirs male of this David were surceast, Into these lands he did himself invest: For David leaving after him no son, His lands by right come back unto the crown, Yet after him one daughter did survive, In mariage which to Patrick Grahame they give, To vvhom she bare a son, one Melisse Grahame, VVhose parents dying young, Robert did clame,

As uncle, and as tutor, of these lands To have the charge devolved in his hands: Which when the king most justlie did deny To give, and gravelie shew the reason why, This bloodie traitour from his gorge did spew Words treacherous, nor to be spoke, nor true. For which he justlie traitour was declar'd, But he the Kings authoritie nought car'd, But more and more pursuing his intent, To Walter Earle of Athole straight he went, Whom well he knew to have the like designe, Above all things for to cut off the king, And all the race sprung of Eliza Mure, With witches did consult and sprits conjure, This to effect, and all th'infernall furies With draughts and spels, and such unlawfull curies: At length he finding that incarnat fiend, Believ'd his response should have stedfast end, Which was, that he should once before he die Be crowned King with great solemnitie: Which came to passe indeed, but not with gold, For his familiar sprit keept that untold: Thus these two traitours cruelly did hatch The treason, which this good king did dispatch.

Both of these traitours at the crowne did aime, Th'one thought his nephew might it some time claime, And he without all question would succeed: For well he knew to cut the fatall threed: Likewise that other Hell-taught traitour Walter Believ'd by no meanes his response could alter,

Thus both of them fed with ambitious hopes, Keep'd secret by themselves their partiall scops, But mutually this one thing they intend, The king must die; and heere their thoughts they spend.

But this Earle Walter subtile more than th' other His quaint designe gan cunningly to smother, Observing well the Grahames proud haughtie braine, Greatly aggreag'd the wrongs he did susteine, Affirming that there was none had a heart But would avenged be, and for his part He would assist, and when that turne were ended Against all deadly Grahame should be defended. Thus by ambition witcht, and rage demented This traitour execut what was intented. Who from the famous Trojan had his name And from the woods, when he did hear the fame * 1.14 Of this infamous fact at Edinburgh then Residing to make peace between these men Who of the Greeks and Trojans are descended, O how he was inrag'd! O how offended! To see so brave a Prince so traiterouslie Cut off, he roard and rail'd outragiouslie 'Gainst all the nation; but when he justice done Had seene upon the traitours, then his tune He quicklie chang'd, now have I seene (said he) A cruell crime revenged cruellie.

This tragick task, Monsier, in hand to take Mine eyes do melt in teares, mine heart strings crake, What! shall I speak of Priam King of Troy By Pyrrhus kild? that cannot much annoy:

Or shall I of brave Iulius Caesar tell, VVhom these two traitours did in Senat kill? These may affect us with some small compassion, But for to speak of this is a tentation. Caesar for valour, learning and meek mind, And ah too much like Caesar in his end. Excusa moi, Monsier, mine heart's so sorie, That I can tell you no more of this storie.

VVhen I think with what gravitie and grace This tragedie was told, teares weet my face: And I do wish good Gall, thou were on live, That vvith Meonian stile thou mighst descrive Such memorable acts; or else thy spirit In some nevv bodie plac'd, it to inherit: Ai me, this can not be, vvhich makes me cry, Gall, svveetest Gall, vvhat ailed thee to die?

The second Muse.

BUt this sad melancholick dis∣quisition Did not befit our Joviall disposition In these our dayes: Therefore vvhen we had mourned For this good King, vve to the tovvn returned, And there to cheere our hearts, and make us merrie, VVe kindely tasted of the noble berrie; Melancholie and grief are great men-killers: Therefore from Tamarisk, with some capillars

Infusde we drank; for to preserve our splens From grief, our lungs from cough, and purge our reins. But this recept Gall did not keep alway, VVhich made him die, alace, before his day.

Then home we vvent unto our beds to rest us, To morrovv againe vve to the fields addrest us; And in my bed as I did dreaming ly, Me thought I heard vvith mightie voice, one cry Arise, Monsier, the day is vvondrous fair, Monsier arise, then ansvvered I, Who's there? Arise, Monsier, the third time did it call. VVho's there? Quoth I, It is I Master Gall. Then I avvoke, and found it so indeed; Good morrovv Master Gall. Monsier, God speed. Good Master Gall, Dreames did me much molest This night, and almost rave me of my rest. Monsier, quoth Gall, What motion might that be? Said I, I dream'd I vvas in archerie Outmatcht so far, that I was striken dumbe, For verie grief to be so overcome. Monsier, said he, That's beene a mightie passion, That hath you striken dumb in such a fashion. A passion, so great, that I did sweat, My sinewes tremble, and my heart did beat. At length, respiring, these few words did speak, O noble heart, of force now must thou break! For to these dayes was never in this land That did o'rcome this matchlesse maiden hand; And dreaming, as I grudg'd with Master Gall, Incontinent a voice on me did call;

Arise Monsior, arise: then I awoke, And found it was Gals voice unto me spoke, Which made me doubt, if so could come to passe: Then answer'd Gall, although your bow were brasse, That might be done; and I'm the man will do it VVhat say you Gall? Quod I, then let us to it.

Foorthwith we drest us in our archer grath, And to the fields we came, like men in wrath: When we our nerves and tendons had extended, Incontinent our bowes were bravely bended; The skie was wondrous cleer, Apollo fair Greatlie delighted to behold us there: And did disperse the clouds, that he might see What matchlesse skill we prov'd in archerie. The cristall river Phabus beames reflected; As glad of us, them in our face directed: The flowrie plains, and mountains, all the while That we were shutting, meriely did smile.

Meane while, for honours praise as we were swelting The sweat from of our brows and temples melting, Phaebus, as seeming to envie our skill, His quiver with some firie shafts did fill, And from his silver bow at us he darted These shafts, to make us faint and feeble hearted: Whose mightie force we could not well oppose, Vnder a shade we therefore did repose A pretie while, hard by a silver streame, Which did appear some melodie to frame. Running alongst the snow white pibble stones Mourning did murmure ioyes, commixt with moanes:

A cup I had of Woodbind of the wall And drinking, said, This to you Master Gall. Quoth he, Monsier, sith that we have no better, With all mine heart I will you pledge in water: This brook alongst the flowrie plain meanders, And in a thousand compasses it wanders; And as it softly slides so many wayes, It sweetlie sings as many rowndelayes, And, harmonie to keep, the honie bees Their trumpets sound amongst the flowres; and trees Their shadowes from their shaggie tops down sending Did bow, in token of their homage rendring But in short while Phaebus his face withdrew; Then freshly fell we to't again of new, And kyth most skilfull, and most pleasant game, While to the lands of Loncartie we came.

Then thus, quod I, Good Gall, I pray thee show, For cleerly all antiquities yee know, What meane these skonses, and these hollow trenches Throughout these fellow-fields, and yonder inches? And these great heaps of stones, like Pyramids? Doubtlesse all these yee know, that so much reads.

These trenches be (Gall answering, did reply) Where these two armies Scots and Danes did ly Incamped, and these heaps the trophae's be, Rear'd in memoriall of that victorie, Admir'd unlook't for, conquest in that day, Be th'only vertue of a Hynds-man, Hay, And his two sons, from whence immortall praise He gain'd, and glory of his name did raise

To all succeeding ages; as is said Of Briareus an hundreth hands who had, Wherewith he fought, or rather as we see A valiant Sampson, whose activitie With his asse-bone kills thousands, or a Shangar With his oxe-goad kills hundreths in his anger: Even so, this war-like wight with oxens yoak Beats squadrons down by his undaunted stroke, And did regain the victorie, neere lost, Vnto the Scots, by his new gathered host Of fearfull fleers, in a wofull plight, By his incouragements infusing might Into their nerves, new spirits in their arters, To make them fight in bloud unto the garters, Against their hatefull foes, who for to be Did fight, more than for price or victorie. Such cruelties their bloudie hearts possest To have old quarrells on us Scots redrest, For utterly quail'd Pights, and for their own Armies by us so often overthrown. This worthie chieftains happie enterprise Which sav'd this countrie from the tyrannies Of cruell Danes, and his two Mars-like sons Do for all ages wear the quernall crowns, Like Thrasibulus; ever bluming bayes Do adde much splendour to these worthie Hayes.

And alwayes since they for their weapons weild Three rubrick targets in a silver shield. Which shield the soaring falcon doth sustaine, To signifie these three men did obteine

The publick safetie, and the falcons flight By mounting, shews their worth; by lighting, right Unto their lands; for honours high regard: Which in all ages should have due reward. Like shall all finde, who loyall to the state And countries well do prove, though small or great: Men shall them praise, God shall preserve their stemmes, Immortall fame shall canonize their names.

Thence forward went we unto Campsie-lin, From whence the river falling makes such din * 1.15 As Nilus Catadups: There so we sported It is impossible for to report it: Whither we walk't, or did we sit, or stand, Quiver was ty'd to side and bow in hand; So that none thought us to be mortall wights But either Phoebus, or fair Phoebe's Knights. There we admir'd to see the Salmond leap, And overreach the waters mightie heap, Which from a mountain falls, so high, and steep, And tumbling down devals into the deep, Making the boyling waters to rebound, Like these great surges neere by Greenland found: Yet these small fish ov'rcome these watrie mountains, And kindely take them to their mother fountains,

With what affection everie creature tenders The native soile! Hence comes great Iove remembers His cradell Creet, and worthie more than he, Let th'idle Cretians at their pleasure ly, Even these most worthie Kings, of mightie race Come of great Fergus, long to see the face

Of their deare Caledonia, whose soyle Doth make their kindelie hearts within them boyle, To view these fields where Martiall men of armes Great monuments have rear'd, with loud alarmes Of thundring trumpets, by a hundreth Kings And seven, one Queen; what auncient Poet sings The like descent of Princes, who their crowns And scepters have bestow'd upon their sons Or neerest kinsmen? Neither is it so That this continued line had never fo * 1.16 To interrupt the same, witnesse these standers That bear the Romane Eagle, great commanders Of most part of the glob, and cruell Danes Victorious elsewhere, but not in our plaines, Pights and old Britans; more than these to tell, Who in the compasse of this Iland dwell But, praisde be God, Britaine is now combinde In faith and truth, one God, one King, one minde.

Let scoffers say that neither wyne nor oyle (Whose want stay'd conquest) growes within this soyle: * 1.17 Yet if gold, pearle, or silver better be, As most men them account, it doth supplee: Yea things more needfull for mans use it yeelds, Heards, flocks, and cornes abound heere in our fields, Wilde beasts in forrests, of all kindes in plentie, Rare fowls, fruits, fishes, and what else is daintie; Perpetuall fire; to speak it in a word, The like no where is found, it doth afford. Thus providence divine hath it ordained, That humane commerce may be intertained,

All soyls should have, yet none brings all things forth, Yea grounds most barren oft have greatest worth Contained in their bowels: this to tell us, Non omnia producit omnis tellus. Hence comes that men their gold for yron change, And so far from there native countries rainge, Their softest silk for coursest canvasse give, Because by commerce men do better live, Then by such things their native grounds forth measure, By traffike they do finde more gaine and pleasure: Yea things more simple much more usefull are, And for mans well more profitable far. Thus yron serves for all brave arts, much more Then gold, let Midas heap it up in store: And canvasse serves for ventrous navigation, Where silks are only for cloths green seek fashion, And though wyne glad the heart, yet stirres it strife, But graine the staffe is which sustaines our life: So humane fellowship to intertaine, Our fishes and our corners bring oile and wyne.

But above all our soile throughout all parts Beares bravest Chiftans, with couragious hearts: * 1.18 These be the bar of conquest, and the wall, Which our most hatefull foes could never scall. Would you behold one Hanniball o'returne Fourscore of thousands? looke to Bannokburne: Or would you see Xerxes his overthrow And flight by boat? Edward the second know: Or Carthaginian towres with all their mights Destroy'd? view Camelon with faithlesse Pights:

Or would yee know great Castriot, whose bones Could Martiall vertue give, dig'd from the stones, Where he did buried ly? take for that part The Brusse and Douglas, carrying his heart Through many lands, intending it to have Solemnly buried in the Holy-grave. This heart though dead, within their hearts begetting Brave hearts, 'gainst dangers their bold breasts outsetting. VVould you a King for zeale unto Gods house Like Israels David? Our Saint David chuse. Or know King Iames the first, like Iulius Caesar, Or Gregorie like Alexander; these are VVith many more the vvorthies, vvhose renovvn By martiall deeds have keeped close this crown.

Yea more to speak of such heroick themes, VVho knoweth not the worthie great King Iames Of Britains union first; whose vertues great VVere more than equall to his royall seat; VVhose matchlesse wisedome, and most learned quill Did nectar and ambrosia distill, And ravisht with amazements all who heard him, But most for active prudence all admir'd him. Happie in all his life, whose worthie name A peaceable Augustus did proclaime. VVho conquered more by wit, than by the sword, And made all Europe muuh regard his word.

And good King Charles the son of such a Father, Thrise happie by thy Virgine Crovvn; yea rather More happie, if more happinesse can be, In earthly things, by thy high pedegrie;

But most of all by Heaven, vvhich hath appointed This maiden crovvn for thee, the Lords Anointed, The man of his right hand, and for thy seed, VVhich God mot blesse and all vvho shall proceed Forth of thy loines, and stablish in thy place So long as Sun and Moone shall run their race. Then reigne, great Charles, our nostrels svveetest breath, Long may thou reigne Defender of the Faith, Inthron'd among these vvorthie peerlesse pearles, And let all say, God save our good King Charles; And deeply in his heart imprint that zeale, To make the lavv supreame the peoples vvell.

VVhat shall vve speak of Martiall Chiftans more? Of Gideons, and of Sampsons vve have store, VVhom God did raise, for to defend our state Miraculously, in times most desperate. VVhat braver Hector, or more brave Achilles In Greece, or Phrygia, than Sir William Wallace? And Iohn the Grahame, his mate, and brother svvorn, VVhose living fame his name doth much adorn? And if vve list this subject more to handle, What Governour like good Earle Thomas Randall? Or doughtie Douglas vvith couragious heart, Whose name vvrought dreadfull terrour in each part? But this heroick theme, so passing great, Impossible it is all to relate, Our worthie rulers even unto thir dayes They do not want their own deserved praise, Nor shall they for my part want due renown, Vertue t'advance, and vice to trample down.

These be the wall of Gods own work and framing Against our foes, and of his own maintaining, Wherefore we blesse his holy Name that made us, And pray that never forraine scepter lead us, T'impose hard lawes, and tributaries make us, To chastise us with scorpions, and to rake us; And likewise pray, that Ajax-like, we would not Undo our selves, which all our enemies could not.

But O dear Caledonia! What desire * 1.19 Have all men who have heard thy fame t'admire Thy monuments? How much more these who be Thy sons, desire thy maiden soile to see? Thy maiden castle, and fair Maiden burgh, The stately winged Citie, which is through All ages much renow'nd with streets so fair, And palaces so mounted in the air That if the deepnesse of imagination Could limme a landskape by deep meditation, Scarce could it match, where bravest youths abound, And gravest counsellours are alwayes found: Where Justice joineth hand with true Religion, And golden vertue keep the middle region, As register, where these acts are enrold, Better than in Corinthian brasse or gold.

Let Poetaster-parasits, who fain, And fawn, and crouch, and coutch, and creep for gain, And, where no hope of gain is, huffe, and hur, And bark against the Moone as doth a Cur; Let such base curs, who nought but gobbets smell, Wish the disgrac'd, and deeply sunk in hell

Whether themselves do go; yet shalt thou stand, And see them ruin'd all that thee withstand: God shall be-friend thy friends, and shall all those Aray with shame that causelesse be thy foes: Thou art this ancient Kingdomes bravest part, For wit and worth thou art its hand and heart, And who the Kingdomes compend brave would see Needs do no more but survey take of thee.

Hence these desires fair Caledonias soile To view, where bravest stratagems with toile Have acted beene, hence comes these kindly wishes, To see these fields, even like these kindly fishes, Which we behold ov'rcome this mightie lin, And seeke the fountaines where they did begin.

The third Muse.

THus as wee did behold the Salmond sporting, Wee spyed some Countrie clowns to us resorting, * 1.20 Who striken were with suddain admiration To see us graithed in such antique fashion, Their stairing eyes grew blinde, their tongues were dumb, A chilling cold their senses did benumme. Said we, What moves you Ghosts to look so griesly? They scarcely muttering, answered, and not wisely,

Oft have we heard of such strange wights as yee, But to this time we did them never see, If yee be men or not, scarce can we tell, Yee looke like men, yet none such heere do dwell. Then said good Gall, Monsier, these fellowes stupid, * 1.21 Doubtlesse take me for Mars, and you for Cupid; Therefore let us be gone, we will not tarie, Yon clownes will swear that they have seene the Farie When they come home at night, and by the fire Will tell such uncouth tales, all will admire, Both man and wife, the laddes and all the lasses, For be yee sure such clownes are verie asses.

Thence downe the river bank as we did walk, And mirrielie began to chant and talk, A prettie boat with two oares we espy'd Fleeting upon the waters, then we cry'd, HOW boatman come; two fisher men neerby Thus answered us againe, And who doth cry? Said we, Good friends, to favour us delay not, The day is verie hot, and walk we may not, Therefore your kindly courtesie implores, To let us have these little pair of oares For down the river we would make our way, And land at Perth, With all our heart, said they, For we likewise at Perth would gladly be, Only we want such companie as yee. All men were glad of us, none did refuse What ever thing it pleasde us ask or chuse,

Then we inbarked with two boyes in train, Who recollect our shafts, and these two men:

As down the river did we softlie slide, The banks most sweetly smyld on other side: To see the flowres our hearts did much rejoice The banwort, dazie, and the fragrant rose; Favonius in our faces sweetlie blew His breath, which did our fainting sprits renew. Then with Sicilian Muse can we dissemble Our secret flammes, making our voices tremble; While as we sweetlie sung kinde Amaryllis, And did complaine of sowre-sweet lovely Phyllis, So sadly, that the Nymphs of woods and mountains, And these which haunt the plains and crystall fountains * 1.22 Bare-legged to the brawns, armes bare and brest, Like whitest evorie bare unto the waste, The lillies and the roses of their faces Running more pleasant made, their waveing tresses, VVell curled with the winde: all these drew nye The waters brink, in song to keep reply, Treading the flowres, VVhen Gall them so espy'd O! how he cast his eyes on either side. And wish't t'have smeld one flovvr, vvhere they had traced, Judge vvhat he vvould have given to have embraced.

But chiefly Echo fettred vvas in love, At everie vvord vve spoke her tongue did move, * 1.23 Then did vve call, Svveet Nymph, pray thee dravv nye? She ansvveering us most vvillingly, said, I Dravv neere said Gall, for gladlie vvould I please thee, Do not deny to heare me. She said ease thee, Then comesvveet Nymph, thy face faine vvould I knovv, She quickly ansvvering him againe, said, No.

Why so, said he? Heere is there no Narcissus. To this her old loves Name did answer, kisse us. Kisse us, said he, with all my heart, againe. This is the thing I would: she answered, Gaine: Gaine! such a gaine, said he, I crave alway; No countenance she shews, yet answers ay; And bashfuly obscures her blushing face, Lest from Cephisus son she finde disgrace. But if that she had known Gals tender minde, She had not prov'd so bashfull and unkinde.

When ended were our songs with perfite close, We thought it best to merrie be in prose; Then seriously and truely to discourse, Of diverse maters grave, we fell by course, But chiefly of this blinde worlds practice bad, * 1.24 Preferring unto learning any trade. For these evill times hold not in such account Men learned, as the former ages wont: But if the worth of learning well they knew, Good Gall (quoth I) they would make much of you, In Poetrie so skild, and so well red * 1.25 In all antiquitie, what can be said Whereof you fluently can not discourse, Even like the current of this rivers course? Things absent you can present make appear, And things far distant; as if they were near, Things senselesse unto them give sense can yee, And make them touch, taste, smell, and heare, and see: What can not Poets do? They life can give And after fatall stroke can make men live;

And if they please to change their tune or note, They'le mak mens names on earth to stink and rote. Who did fixe Hercules amongst the stars? And Diomedes for his wit in wars Made equall to the gods? But odious For vice Thersites vile, and Sisyphus? These were th'immortall muses, who do sing, As vice and vertue do their subjects bring, Therefore this counsell wisedome doth impart you, Flee filthie vice and intertaine fair vertue.

Yet 'tis not so that everie spirit fell Whose wicked tongue is set on fire of Hell, Nor everie Momus, nor Archilochus, Whose mouths do vomite venome poysonous, Hath inspiration of the sacred Muses, Such wickednesse th' Aonian band refuses: But he who vice most gravely censure can, And vertues praise advance in any man With perfect numbers, such one is a Poet, But in thir dayes, alace, few men do know it, Like my dear Gall: who gravely did reply A good Mecaenas lets not Poets die, Poets make men on gold wing'd fame to flie When lands with losse; life chang'd with death shall be.

As we thus talk'd our berge did sweetly passe By Scones fair pallace, sometimes Abbay was: Strange change indeed, yet is it no new guyse, Both spirituall lands and more to temporise. But pallace fair, which doth so richly stand, Where gardens, orchards, parks on either hand,

VVhere flovvres, and fruits, the hart, and fallovv deere, For smell, for taste, for venison and cheere, The nose, the mouth, and palate vvhich may please, For gardine chambers for delight and ease, Damask't with porphyrie and alabaster, Thou art not subject for each Poetaster, But for a Poet, Master in his art, VVhich thee could vvhole descrive, and everie part, So to the life, as t'vvere in perspective, As readers that they see thee might beleeve.

Meane vvhile our boat doth vvith the river slide The countrie Nymphs vvho in these parts abide, VVith many a shout moving both head and hand Did us invite, that vve vvould come a land. Not novv, said vve; and think it not disdaine For vve do promise for to come againe, And view where some time stood your Cathedrall, And mount, which Omnis terra you do call. * 1.26 Just by this time we see the bridge of Tay O happie sight indeed, was it that day; A bridge so stately, with elleven great arches, Joining the south and north, and commoun march is Unto them both, a bridge of squared stone, So great and fair; which when I think upon, How in these dayes it did so proudly stand, Ov'rlooking both the river and the land; So fair, so high, a bridge for many ages Most famous; But alace, now through the rages Of furious swelling waters, thrown in deep, Mine heart for sorrow sobs, mine eyes do weep.

And if my tongue should cease to cry and speak, Undoubtedlie my grief-swoln heart would break.

But courage, Monsier, my good Genius sayes, Remember yee not how Gall in those dayes Did you comfort, lest melancholious fits Had you opprest, your spleen so neerelie sits, And told you in the yeer threescore thirteene The first down-fall this Bridge did ere sustaine, By ruine of three arches nixt the town, Yet were rebuilt. Thereafter were thrown down Five arches in the yeer fourescore and two, Reedified likewise, and who doth know Monsier, but ah, mine heart can scarcelie sober! Even that great fall the fourteenth of October, Six hundred twentie one, repaird may bee, And I do wish the same that I might see: For Britaines Monarch vvill it sure repair, Courage therefore, Monsier, do not despare; Is't credible to bee believ'd or told, That these our Kings, who did possesse of old Scotland alone, should such a work erect And Britaines mightie Monarch it neglect? Absurd it is to think, much more to speak it; Therefore good Monsier yee do far mistake it; For never had yee King vvas more inclinde To do great vvorks; nor of a braver minde, Providing he can have due information, His vvord vvill prove of powerfull operation: For Kings are Gods on Earth, and all their actions Do represent th'Almighties great perfections.

Thus Gals sweet words often do me comfort, And my good Genius truely doth report Them unto me, else sure my splene should wholly Be overcome with fits of melancholie; Therefore I courage take, and hope to see A bridge yet built, although I aged be, More stately, firme, more sumptuous, and more fair, Then any former age could yet compare: Thus Gall assured me it would be so, And my good Genius truely doth it know: For what we do presage is not in grosse, For we be brethren of the Rosie Crosse; VVe have the Mason word, and second sight, Things for to come we can foretell aright; And shall we show what mysterie we meane, In fair acrosticks CAROLUS REX, is seene Describ'd upon that bridge, in perfect gold: By skilfull art; this cleerelie we behold, With all the Scutcheon of great Britaines King, Which unto Perth most joyfull news shall bring, Loath would we be this mysterie to unfold But for King Charles his honour we are bold.

And as our Boat most pleasantly did passe * 1.27 Upon the cristall river, clear as glasse, My dearest Gall, quoth I, long time I spend Revolving from beginning to the end All our records, yet searching can not finde First when this bridge was built; therefore thy minde Faine would I know: for I am verie sorie Such things should be omitted in our storie.

Monsier, said Gall, things many of that kinde To be omitted often do vve finde: Yea time hath also greatest vvorks destroyed, Wherein the learn'dest pennes have beene imployed. But if that I should tell what I do knovv, An ancient storie I could to you shovv, Which I have found in an old manuscript, But in our late records is overslipt, Which storie no lesse probable is, than true, And, my good Monsier, I vvill show it you.

I leave to speak vvhat Hollinshed hath told Of Cunidag, vvas Britaine king of old, The time Vzziah was of Iuda king, And Ieroboam did ov'r Israel reigne, Ere Rome a citie was yeers fourtie five, Ere sons of Rhea did for masterie strive, Hovv that this Heathen built three cels of stone, To Mercurie at Bongor built he one, His vvay for to direct: then to Apollo At Cornuel another did he hallovv, For favourable response: the third to Mars, Where Perth novv stands, for to assist his wars.

But good Monsier this storie is too old, Therefore I leave the rest of it untold, The time vvill not permit me to out-read it, I'm sure in Hollinshed yee often read it. I will a storie of no lesse credite tell, In after ages truely what befell.

When mightie Romaines came into this soile, With endlesse labour and undaunted toile,

After great conflicts and uncertaine chance Of Fortunes dye, they did in armes advance, At length unto these parts where Perth doth stand Under the conduct and victorious hand Of that most valiant Chieftain of great fame Brave Iulius Agricola by Name. And there hard by a river side they found The fairest and most pleasant plot of ground, That since by bank of Tiber they had beene, The like for beautie seldome had they seene, Of eighteene hundreth paces good, in length, From Muretowne brays to foot of Carnaks strength, King of the Pights, which stood on Moredune hill, The foot thereof from Friers dwelt thereintill Now named is, in breadth eight hundreth paces, Painted with white, red, yellow flowrie faces, So equall fair; which when they did espy, Incontinent they Campus Martius cry, And as an happie presage they had seene, They fixt their tents amidst that spatious greene, Right where now Perth doth stand, and cast their trenches Even where Perths fowsies are, between these inches, The south and north, and bastalies they make, The power and strength of Scots, and Pights to brake, Who presently would fight, by wise cunctation They frustrat all their hope and expectation: For well this most victorius Romaine knew T'abate his Enemies rage and courage too.

Finding the place even to their hearts desire, With grasse for pasture stor'd, and wood for fire,

The river likewise verie opportune For lighter vessels to passe up and downe, And correspondence with their Navie make, As Souldiers wise, they all occasions take, And do conclude to winter in that place, To foile their foes, by voluntarie chace.

Meane while couragiously they do advise A bridge to build, for further enterprise, * 1.28 Then forthwith fall they with redoubling stroaks To fell the tall firre trees, and aged oaks; Some square the timber with a stretched line, Some do the tenons, and the morties joine, Some frame an ovall, others make a cub, Some cut a section, other some do grub, Some with great compasse semicircles forme, Some drive the wadges, painfullie some worme, Some do hoyse up the standers, others fixe them; And some lay goodly rafters ov'r betwixt them; What strength or skill can work, from point to point They cunningly contrive with angular joint, And do most strongly binde these contignations, To make them stand against all inundations. All men are set on frame, all hands are working, And all ingines are bussied without irking. Thus in short space, a bridge they strongly make, With passage fair; and for their safeties sake A mightie strength to be, they frame withall, On either end, a bridge to lift and fall, That souldiers might within it keep at ease, Admitting, or repelling, as they please

Thus fortified, lest that they should neglect Due honour to their gods, they did erect To Mars a temple, rather did restore The temple built by Cunidag before: For time on all things worketh demolition, And heathen men maintaine like superstition. Then did this valiant chiftaine name the river In Italies remembrance Neo-Tiber. Which afterwards it kept for many a day, How long I know not, now its called Tay. Likewise an house of mightie stone he framed, From whence our Castell-gavell, as yet is named. And, if Domitian had not cald him home, I think he should have built another Rome.

But all these monuments were worne away Ere did King William Perths foundation lay, Only Mars temple stood upon that greene, And th'house built by Agricola was seene, And some characters cunningly incisde With Iulius Agricola imprisde In solid marmor, and some print was found, Where camped had an armie, and the ground Where there had beene a bridge: all which did yeeld Occasion to King William for to beild, After old Bertha's overthrow, that citie, These ancient walls, and famous bridge; ah pitie If they were as! But what doth not the rage Of men demolish and consuming age? For good King William seeing where had beene Of old a passage, forthwith did ordaine

A mightie bridge of squaired stone to be. These famous wals and fusies which we see, Perth his chief strength to make, and seat of power Did with most ample priviledge indue her. These be the first memorials of a bridge, Good Monsier, that we truely can alledge. Thus spake good Gall and I did much rejoice To heare him these antiquities disclose; Which I remembring now, of force must cry, Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?

The fourth Muse.

THis time our boat passing too nigh the land, The vvhirling streame did make her run on sand, Aluif, vve cry'd, but all in vain, t'abide, We were constrain'd, till flowing of the tide. Then Master Gall, quod I, even for my blessing Now let us go, the pretious pearles a fishing, * 1.29 Th'occasion serveth well, while heere we stay To catch these mussels, you call toyts of Tay: It's possible, if no ill eye bewitch us We jewels finde, for all our dayes t'enrich us:

The waters here are shald, and clear, and warme, To bath our armes and lims will do no harme, For these sweet streames have power to bring back Our spirits which in outward parts make slake Our naturall strength, but when these sprits retire They multiplie our heat and inbred fire, Helping our vitall, and our naturall parts, Our lungs, our levers, stomachs, and our hearts, And mightily refrigerat our reanes, But above all they do refresh our spleans. For such a bathing bravely doth expell Melancholie, which makes the splean toswell. More than it should, causing an atrophie, That we like skelets rather seeme to be Then men, and Atropos appears to laugh, Thinking we look liker an Epitaph, Then marriage song; likewise it doth us make Both supper and collation freshly take. Content said Gall: Then off our shoes we drew, And hose, and from us we our doublets threw, Our shirt sleeves wreathing up, without more speeches, And high above our knees pulling our breeches, In waters go, then streight mine armes I reach Unto the ground, whence cleaverly I fetch Some of these living pearled shels, which do Excell in touching and in tasting too, As all who search do by experience try, And we oftimes; therewith I lowdlie cry, Good Master Gall, behold I found a pearle, A Jewell, I assure you, for an Earle.

Be silent, said good Gall, or speak at leasure, For men will cut your throat to get your treasure, If they its worth did know so well as I. Harpocrates my patience will try, Said I againe, for I am not like such Who hurd their treasure and their speach asmuch. But Gall, to stay long, no wayes could be mov'd This element, said he, I never lov'd. To land: on goeth our cloaths, alongst the way Then did we go, and taking cleare survey How proper Perth did stand, one might have drawn Its landship fair, on paper, or on lawn.

Good Gall, said I, ofttimes I heard of old * 1.30 To be of truth these things ere while you told: But of these wals I doubt that which you said That good King William their foundations layd. Their founding is more late, I you assure; That we from strangers rage may be secure, They builded were, even then when Iames did reigne The second, and in minor age was king, Vpon a bloodie slaughter, I hear tell, Which twixt our town and highland men befell; For taking, as the custome was, a staig At Midsummer; said Gall, Monsier, you vaig. Which word indeed my spleane almost did move: Then Gall, said I, if that I did not love You most intirely, I would be offended. Said he, good Monsier, Would you have it mended? Then I that storie will you truely tell, And if I faile so much as in a spell,

Speak all your pleasure, I my peace shall hold, An•• grant my tongue in speaking was too bold: Therefore Monsier, be not so much annoy'd, These walls have oft been built, and oft destroy'd And stratagems of war have acted been, As worthie as the world hath heard or seene. By Sojours as good as the Earth hath born, This boldly to avow I dar be sworn: Englands first Edwards three can shew the same, And Scotlands Wallace, Bruce, and Stewarts fame, Whose prowes vvithin this Isle vvere not confin'd The Netherlands and France scarce them contain'd, Nor other parts of Europ, and it's cleare What great exploits they bravelie acted heere, These stories are vvell known, I must not slack, For by and by the tide vvill call us back,

When Edward Langshanks Scotland did surprise, The strengths first did he take, as Chiftaine vvise, * 1.31 But his cheif strength to keep both South and North Lovv-lands and high-lands on this side of Forth, Perth did he chuse, and stronglie fortifie With garisons of foot and chavalrie. And vvhat the former times could not outred In vvalls and fovvsies; these accomplished. Thereafter vvorthie Wallace first expell'd them, And for to leave these vvals by force compell'd them. * 1.32 Whom after foughten vvas that fatall field VVofull Falkirk, envie did force to yeeld Up his governement; to Perth then came, And in the Nobles presence quatte the same.

Leanfac'd envie doth often bring a nation To civill discord, shame, and desolation. Such bitter fruit we found, all to confusion At once did run, was nothing but effusion Of guiltlesse bloud: Our enemies did take Our strengths again, and all things went to wrake, Such was our wofull state, unto the time The brave King, Robert Bruce, came to this clime, * 1.33 Most happily, yet small beginnings had: For many yeers before this land he fred From enemies rage, till wisely he at length By soft recoiling recollected strength; Then came to Perth, and did the same besiege * 1.34 And take; who through persuit and cruell rage Kil'd Scots, and English all were in it found, Brake down the walls, them equal'd to the ground. But after this victorious King did die, And brave Earle Thomas Randolf, by and by All things perplexed were, the Baliol proud With English forces both by land and floud * 1.35 In Scotland came, arrived at Kinghorne, And through the countrie mightily did sorne. Our Governours, the Earles of Merche and Marre Sufficient armies levying for warre This pride for to represse, did fixe their tents At Dupline camped Marre: mine heart it rents * 1.36 To tell the wofull event, in the night This Earle and all his hoste surprisde by sleight, Yee know the storie, all to death neer brought, The Englishmen on Scots such butcheries wrought.

Thus Baliol proud to Perth did make his way, The city all secure ere break of day For to surprise, naked of walls and men, As pray most easie did obtaine, and then To fortifie the same, in haste, did call, Go cast the fousie, and repair the wall. The Earle of Merch, hearing the wofull chance, Incontinent his armie did advance To Perth, hoping the same he might regaine, Did straitly it besiege, but all in vaine, He forc'd was to reteir; Baliol to Scone Then went, was crown'd, rather usurp'd the crown. By these fair Fortuns having gain'd a faction, Not for the countreyes peace, but for distraction Did overswey the ballance, none with reason Durst call the Baliols enterprise a treason, Because it had good successe; so doth reele Th'inconstant course of giddie Fortunes wheele. Constant in changes of blindfolded chance. Meane while King David Bruce did flee to France As yet a child, his tender life to save From tyrannizing Baliols bloodie glave.

Baliol install'd, in guarding leaves the town To some true traitours, not true to the crown. * 1.37 Hereafter Nobles and commons all combinde Whose kin wer kild at Dupline, in one minde Aveng'd to be, did come in awfull maner Unto the citie, with displayed banner; And strongly it beseige three months and more, Till strong assault, and famine, urgeing sore,

Forc'd them to yeeld, the traitours openly kild The wals were raz'd againe, and fousies fild. * 1.38

Yet Baliol once more did obtaine the same, And with new Fortunes much advance his name But who doth not finde Fortunes fickle chance? Whom erewhile she so highly did advance To hold a scepter, and to weare a crown, Now tyrannizing proudly pesters down: King Edward came with fiftie thousand brave To Perth, the Baliol, lead as captiv'd slave. * 1.39 Trust not in Kings, nor Kingdomes, nor applause Of men, the World's a sea that ebbes and flowes, A wheele that turnes, a reele that alwayes rokes A bait that overswallowed men choaks.

Seditions rise againe, this Edward Windsore With greater forces came, and made a winde sore To blow through Scotland, minding a new conquest, Did all things overwhelme, even as a tempest Castles ov'rcome, strongly beligger Perth It take, rebuild her wals, all thrown to Earth, Upon the charges of sex Abacies, With bulwarks, rampiers, rounds, and bastilies Of squared stone, with towres and battlements, Houses for prospect, and such muniments, For strong defence, clouses and water fals, With passage fair to walk upon the wals, And spacious bounds within sojours to dreele, To merch, to string, to turne about, and wheele. These were the Abacies, Couper, Landores, Balmerinoch, Dumfermling, Saint Androes,

And Aberbrotok; who these works did frame, For merite, and for honour of their name: Such zeale had they, though blinde; ah now a-dayes Much knowledge is profest, but zeale decayes.

Thus was the citie strongly fortified, * 1.40 Till Robert the first Stuart first assayed With foure great armies, yet by force repell'd And after three months sage with grief compell'd To sound retreat, Douglas meane while in Tay Most happ'ly did arrive: then they assay To reinforce the charge, and with munition For batterie new prepard, and demolition, Most furiously assault, a month and more, Yet nothing could availe their endevoure, Untill the Earle of Rosse with new supplie Did fortifie the leaguer, and drew by The water, which the wall did compasse round, By secret conduits, and made dry the ground. Then after sharp assault, and much bloud spended, Bravely pursued, and no lesse well defended, Finding themselves too weak who were within More to resist, to parlie they begin, * 1.41 And treat of peace; both parties jump in one, With bag and baggage that they should be gone, And so it was: The citie they surrender No English since hath been thereof commander. Read George Buchanane Boëce, Master Mair These histories they word for word declare.

After this seige the wals some part thrown down But were not wholly razde, to keep the town

In some good sort, readie for peace or war, If not a bulwark, yet some kinde of bar. Thus did they stand, untill these heighland men Amidst their furie kil'd a Citizen; * 1.42 A Citizen to kill, an odious thing It then was thought; no sacrifice condigne Could expiat the same, though now each knave Dar to account a citizen a slave; No such conceat in all the World againe, As proudlie-poor such fondlings do maintaine.

This suddaine slaughter made a great commotion, The Burgesses without further devotion * 1.43 As men with war inur'd, to armes do flie, Upon these Heigh-land men aveng'd to be, Which they performe, chaffed in minde as beares, And do persue them unto Hoghmansstaires; In memorie of this fight it hath the name, For many men lay there, some dead, some lame, On which occasion they gan fortifie, And build these walls againe, as now we see; * 1.44 Though not so brav'ly as they were before, For that did far surpasse their endevour, Yet some resemblance they do keep and fashion For they be builded neere the old foundation.

These are the wals, Monsier, as I have shown, Which often have beene built, ofttimes down thrown With stratagems of war, fame hath renownd them, And if not Mars, yet martiall men did found them. But now, good Monsier, needs none more at all Them to destroy: they of themselves will fall.

So said good Gall, and humbly begged leave For that offence so rashly he did give. Oh! if he were on life to say much more, For so he was disposde some times to roare.

The fifth Muse.

YEt bold attempt and dange∣rous, said I, * 1.45 Upon these kinde of men such chance to try By nature inhumaine, much given to blood, Wilde, fierce, and cruell, in a disperat mood. But no such danger, answer'd Master Gall, As fearfullie you deeme, was there at all: For Perth was then a citie made for war, Her men were souldiers all, and bold to dar Such motion attempt, a souldier keene The smallest outrage hardly can susteene.

Many such stratagems declare I might, Which Perth hath acted in defence of right: How Ruthvens place, and Duplins, in one day * 1.46 Were burn'd, or battell of the bridge of Tay, With manly courage fought, where, kil'd were many, Vpon the day sacred to Magdalené,

Five hundreth fourtie foure, for which she mournes, And many times her cristall teares she turnes In flouds of woes, remembring how these men Were justly by their own ambition slaine, Thinking to sack a town, some through despaire Did overleap the bridge, and perish there: Some borne on spears, by chance did swim a land. And some lay swelting in the slykie sand, Agruif lay some, others with eyes to skyes, These yeelding dying sobs, these mournfull cryes. Some by their fall were fixed on their spears, Some swatring in the floud the streame down bears, By chance some got a boat, What needs more words? They make them oars of their two handed swords: Some doubting what to do, to leap or stay, Were trampled under foot as mirie clay; Confusedly to fight and flee they thrimble, The shifring spears thurst through their bodies tremble, And strongly brangled in splents do quicklie flee, The glistring sword is changed in crimson dye; To wrak they go; even as the raging thunder, Rumbling and rolling roundly, breaks asunder A thick and dampish cloud, making a showre Of crystall gems, on Earths dry bosome powre, So broken was that cloud, the purpure bloud In drops distilling, rather as a floud, The dry and dustie ground doth warmely draine; And dying bodies in their own blood staine, Or as the comets, or such meteors driven Or stars which do appear to fall from heaven:

So tumbling headlong spears in hand they traile; As firie dragons, seeme to have a taile; Or Phaëton, or some sulphureous ball, So from the bridge in river do they fall.

I pray the Gall, quoth I, that storie shovv * 1.47 Some things I heard of it, and more vvould knovv, Tell it I pray. No, no, Gall did reply, Lest I offend our neighbour tovvn neerby, When they shall hear hovv malice did provoke them, Ambition them guide and avarice choak them; Thinking upon our spoyles triumph to make, And on th' occasion given our tovvn to vvrak, With full commission purchast for the same, T'intrude a Provest, else vvith svvord and flame All to destroy, given by the Cardinall, At vvhose devotion then vvas govern'd all: So in that morning soon by break of day The tovvn all silent did beset, then they To clim the bridge begin and port to skall, * 1.48 The chaines they break, and let the dravvbridge fall; The little gate of purpose vvas left patent And all our Citizens in lanes vvere latent, None durst be seene, the enemies to allure Their ovvn destruction justlie to procure; Thus entring th••ough, vvell straitly, one did call, All is our ovvne, Come fellovv-souldiers all, Advance your Lordlie pace; take and destroy, Build up your Fortunes; O vvith vvhat great joy These vvords vvere heard! Then did they proudly step As men advanc'd on stilts, and cock their cap.

With roulling eyes they looke, and hand in side Throwing their noses, snuffe, and with great pride Selflooking set their brawnes, themselves admire And doubting at their own hearts closely speare If it be they; thus wondering do they pause A prettie while, anone they quickly loose With swifter pace; and turning round, they move If there be any gazer to approve Their great conceat; thus, inly fil'd with glie, They wish their wife or mistres might them see: Scorning Alcides, they his strength would try, And in their braine the World they do defie. With such brave thoughts they throng in through the port Thinking the play of Fortune bairnely sport, And as proud peacocks with their plumes do prank Alongst the bridge they merche in battell rank, Till they came to the gate with yron hands, Hard by where yet our Ladies chappell stands, Thinking to break these bars it made some hover, Too strong they were, therefore some did leap over, Some crept below, thus many passe in by them, And in their high conceat they do defie them. Forwards within the town a space they go, The passage then was strait, as well ye know, Made by a wall, having gain'd so much ground They can exult: Incontinent did sound * 1.49 A trumpet from a watchtowre; then they start, And all their bloud doth strike into their heart; A wondrous change! even now the bravest fellows In their own fansies glasse, who came to quaile us

The vitall sprits their artires do containe, Their panting hearts now scarcely can sustaine.

Our souldiurrs then, who lying were a darning, By sound of trumpet having got a warning Do kyth, and give the charge; to tell the rest Yee know it well, it needs not be exprest, Many to ground were born, great bloud was shed, He was the prettiest man that fastest fled. Yea happie had they been, if place had served To flee, then doubtlesse more had been preserved. Within these bars were kill'd above threescore Upon the bridge and waters many more. But most of all did perish in the chace, For they pursued were unto the place, Where all their baggage and their canon lay, Which to the town was brought as lawfull prey.

What shall I more say? if more you would have, I'le speake of these three hundreth souldiours brave, * 1.50 Like these renown'd Lacedemonians, Couragious Thebans, valiant Thespians Resolv'd to die, led by Leonidas, Stop't Xerxes armie at Thermopylas. Such were these men who for Religions sake, A cord of hemp about their necks did take, Solemnly sworn, to yeeld their lives thereby, Or they the Gospels veritie deny: Quiting their houses, goods, and pleasures all, Resolv'd for any hazard might befall, Did passe forth of the town in armes to fight, And die, or they their libertie and light

Should lose, and whosoever should presume To turn away that cord should be his doome.

Hence of Saint Iohnstoun riband came the word In such a frequent use, when with a cord They threaten rogues; though now all in contempt It speak, yet brave and resolute attempt, And full of courage, worthie imitation, Deserving of all ages commendation Made these men put it on, symbole to be, They readie were for Christ to do or die. For they were Martyrs all in their affection And like to Davids Worthies in their action; Therefore this cord should have beene made a badge And signe of honour to the after age. Even as we see things in themselves despised, By such rare accidents are highlie prised, And in brave skutsheons honourablie born, With mottoes rare these symbols to adorn.

Thus some have vermine, and such loathsome swarmes, Yet honourably borne are in their armes, And some have myce, some frogs, some filthie rats, And some have wolfs, and foxes; some have cats; Yet honourable respect in all his had, Though in themselves they loathsome be and bad, Thus Millaine glories in the bainfull viper, As none more honour misterie none deeper; The auncient Gaules in toads, in lillies now Metamorphosde: The Phrygians in their sow. Athens their owle with th'Eagle will not barter, And Honi soit who thinks ill of the garter.

What shall be said then of this rope or cord? Although of all men it be now abhord, And spoke of in disdaine, their ignorance Hath made them so to speak, yet may it chance When they shall know the truth, they will speak better, And think of it as of a greater matter, And truely it esteeme an hundreth fold Of much more honour than a chaine of gold. Thus may you see Monsier, men of renown Of old time have possest this ancient town. And yet this may we boast, even to this day Men of good wit and worth do not decay; For to this houre some footsteps still remaines Of such couragious hearts and cunning braines.

Good Master Gall, quoth I, I know that well Whereof you speak, and clearly can it tell, For I did say these Men, being then of age Some twelue or threttene years, a prettie page, As easely you may guesse, and can you show Some partiall poynts whereof you nothing know. Nor are they written. Then answered Master Gall, A witnesse such as you is above all Exception, therefore show what you did see, Or heare, good Monsier, Your antiquitie Is of great credit: Master Gall, quoth I, Much did I see, and much more did I try: My Father was a man active, and wight In those dayes, and who helped for to fight The battell of the bridge: within few yeeres Thereafter was I borne, then all our quires

And convents richly stood, which I did see With all their pomp; but these things told to me First will I shew; a storie of much ruth How that our Martyrs suffered for the truth * 1.51 Of Christs blest Gospell, on Pauls holy day Before the fight was of the bridge of Tay In that same yeere; the sillie Governour Led by the craftie Cardinall, with power Held judgement on these men, and under trust Condemned them; nothing their bloudie lust Could satiat: The Citizens made sure Their neighbours should nor losse nor skaith indure, Go to their homes, forthwith the Cardinall Causde lead them unto execution all. And from the Spey towre window did behold Doome execut, even as his Cleargie would: Which treacherous fact did so enrage the town, No credit more to black, white, nor gray gown After these dayes was given: Thus in the place Where malefactors end their wicked race, These innocents do make a blessed end, And unto God their sprits they recommend, In witnesse of the faith, for which they die, And by the Sprit of truth did prophesie These vvords, looking and pointing vvith the hand Tovvards our Monasteries, vvhich then did stand Most sumptuously adorn'd vvith steples, bels, Church ornaments, and vvhat belongeth else,

"These foxes which do lurke within these holes, "Delighting in the earth like blinded moles,

"Drown'd in their lusts, and swimming in their pleasures "Whose God their belly, whose chief joy their treasures; "Who caused have our death, shall hunded be "Forth of these dens, some present heere shall see "The same ere it be long, then shall yee say, "Its for Gods truth that we have dyed this day. "And all these sumptuous buildings shall be cast "Down to the earth, made desolat, and wast: "This to performe Gods zeale shall eat men up, "To fill the double potion in their cup: "The apples then of pleasure, which they loved "And lusted after, shall be all removed. "Yea scarcely shall they finde a hole to hide "Their heads (thus by the Sprite they testified.) "And in that day true Pastours shall the Lord "Raise up to feed his flock, with his pure word, "And make Christs people by peculiar choice "Dignosce the sheepheards from the hyrelings voice. Which as they did foretell did come to passe Some sixteene yeeres or thereby, more or lesse, Thus with cleare signes, by Gods own Sprit exprest, In full assurance of heavens blesse they rest.

Meane while Saint Catharins Chaplan standing by, Wringing his eyes and hands, did often cry, * 1.52 Alace, alace, for this unhappie turn, I feare for it one day we shall all mourn, And that by all it shall be plainlie said, That we blind guides the blinded long have led; Some Churchmen there, bad pack him heretick, Else certainelie they should cause burne him quicke,

This done, friends take their bodies and with mourning Do carie them towards the town, returning With heavie hearts, them to this chappell bring, But no Soule Masse nor Dirigé durst sing. Yet this good Priest did lay them on the altar, And all night read the pistle, and the psalter, With heart devote, and sad; from th'evening vapers, Placing upon the altar burning tapers Unto the dawning: exequies thus ended. Their bodies to the Earth are recommended.

This Chapell some time stood by our theater, Where I my self sprinkled with holie water, After these dayes did often heare the Messe Albeit I knew not what it did expresse, But this I saw, a man with a shaven crown, Raz'd beard, and lips, who look't like a baboun, Perfum'd with odours, and in Priestlie vestures, Did act this mimik toy with thousand gestures; A misterie indeed, nor which no fable Acted on stage to make you laugh more able.

After these innocents were martyred thus As you have heard, Churchmen were odious, And, when occasion serv'd, so did they finde, For, so soone as did blow a contrare winde, The houre was come, and then our Knox did sound, Pull down their idols, throw them to the ground. * 1.53 The multitude, even as a spear, did rush then In poulder beat; and cald them all Nehushtan. Our blak Friers Church and place, white friers, and gray Prophan'd, and cast to ground were in one day.

The Charterhouse like a Citadale did hold * 1.54 Some tvvo dayes more, untill these nevves vvere told We should be raz'd and sackt, and brought to ground, Not so much as a footstep should be found Where vvas such citie; neither sexe, nor age Should saved be, untill the cruell rage Of fire and svvord should satiat that moud, Quenching the fire vvith Citizens ovvne bloud And vvith destructions besome svveep from station, And savv vvith sault; perpetuall desolation To signifie: These nevves made great commotion, The fearfull people ran to their devotion: Doctrine and prayers done, chief men advise, To take in hand first vvhat great enterprise. Said one, This place hard by our tovvn doth stand A mightie strength, vvhich easely may command, And vvrake our citie, therefore let us go In time, and to the ground it overthrovv, For sure our Enemies vvill possesse the same, And us from thence destroy vvith svvord and flame, Even at their pleasure. Then they all conclude In armes to rise; and rushing as a floud VVhich overflovves the banks, and headlongs hurles The strongest bulvvarks vvith devouring vvhirles, Svvallovving the mightie ships them overvvhelme, Nothing availes his skill that guides the helme; Even so the multitude in armes arise VVith noise confusde of mirth and mourning cryes For that fair Palace, then sexscore nine yeeres VVhich had continued; turning of the spheres

The fatall period brought, to ground it must, And all its pomp and riches turne to dust. Even as these Martyrs truelie did foretell In everie point the judgement so befell. Towres fall to ground, Monks flee to hide their heads, Nothing availe their rosaries and beads; Then all men cry'd, Raze raze, the time is come, Avenge the guiltlesse bloud, and give the doome.

Courage to give was mightilie then blown Saint Iohnstons huntsup, since most famous known * 1.55 By all Musitians, when they sweetlie sing With heavenly voice, and well concording string. O how they bend their backs and fingers tirle! Moving their quivering heads their brains do whirle With diverse moods; and as with uncouth rapture Transported, so doth shake their bodies structure: Their eyes do reele, heads, armes, and shoulders move: Feet, legs, and hands and all their parts approve That heavenlie harmonie: while as they threw Their browes, O mightie straine! that's brave! they shew Great phantasie; quivering a brief some while, With full consent they close, then give a smile, With bowing bodie, and with bending knee, Me think I heare God save the Companie.

But harmonie which heavens and earth doth please Could not our Enemies furious rage appease; Cruell Erinnis reignes destruction shoring, Ten thousand souldiours like vvilde Lyons roaring Against our tovvn do merch, fame desolation Proclaimes; the church then nam'd the Congregation

Makes for defence: But ah the Burghs distractions! Papists and Protestants make diverse factions; The town to hold impossible they finde, The fields to take they purpose in their minde, Factions within, munition, victuall scarce, Hardly to hold eight dayes they finde by search.

Amids these doubts these valiant fellowes come In armes aray'd, and beatting of the drum, With coards about their necks, Come, come, they cry, We be the men who are resolv'd to die. First in this quarrell; we to death will fight, So long as courage will afford us might, And who so yeeldes alive, this tow portends Streight must he hing where did our dearest friends Who suffered for the truth, nothing we skunner, This certainlie we count our chiefest honour. Thus as Manasses half tribe, Ruben, Gad Do leave their cattell, and mount Gilead, Before their brethren over Iordan go, In armes to fight against their cursed fo; So these three hundred do abandon quite Their citie, houses, goods, and chief delite, Resolv'd to die all for the Gospels light, Armed before their brethren merch to fight; And having gain'd a place meet to abide, Their enemies to resist, courage they cride, Be merrie fellowes all, leave sad complaints, Dine cheerefullie, for sup we shall with Saints. Fame spreads the brave attempt, all martiall hearts Inflam'd with divine zeale flock to these parts

From places most remote, in armes they rise T'assist the matchlesse happie enterprise. God giveth hearts to Men, and mightiest things By weakest meanes he to confusion brings: Our enemies ears are fild that all our feare Was into courage turned from despare; Their fierie rage is quencht, their hearts do faile, Where God forsakes nought doth mans strength availe. Then what their open force could not work out, By sleight they endevour to bring about, They treat of peace: peace flees with joyfull wings, But under it was hatcht most lewd designes When time should serve: But he whose thought doth rule This Worlds great frame their madnesse did controule; And gratiouslie through his aboundant pitie Preserv'd our Innocents, and sav'd our citie. (ded

When by small means they found themselves confoun- Even to their verie heart roots were they wounded: Then they began to raile, and shew their passion, Saying, Such riband's meet for such profession. And in contempt, when any rogue thy see, They say, Saint Iohnstouns Ribands meet for thee. Or any fellow resolute in minde For some great act, this riband fit they finde For such a one, Thus time made all men use This word, and ignorance through time t'abuse, For everie bad conceat, which for Religion VVas stoutlie undertaken in thsi region: VVhich I did see, and heare, and well do know, And for your life the paralel me show

In all the World; except Leonidas The rest, without a third I overpasse. Thus our Saint Iohnstons riband took the name Whereof we have no reason to think shame.

Our Shipper heerwith cald, HOW, turn aback, The waters flow, and tide doth quickly make, Therefore of this to speak more was no leasure, For winde and tide (you know) stay no mans pleasure. With post haste to our bearge we make our way, The day far spent, longer we might not stay; Our ship now fairlie fleeting comes a land, Two skilfull rowers take the oares in hand We reembarked, down the river slide, Which was most pleasant with the flowing tide, The bridge drawes nigh where contrare streams do run, Take heed shipper, said we, these dangers shun, The whirling streame will make our boat to cowp, Therefore let's passe the bridge by Wallace loup. Which when we did behold, 'mongst other things * 1.56 We much admir'd who lent his feet such wings: Empedocles may leap in Aetna burning, In Tiber leap may Cocles home returning, The one burnes in flame, th'other falls in flood But Wallace overleaping makes all good.

When we these Heaven-like arches had survey'd VVe admird in th'air these hinging stones what stay'd. * 1.57 Then thus said Gall; these on their centers stay, As on their bases fixt, and all their sway They presse toward the same, a wondrous thing, Albeit the Center in the air doth hing,

Yea diverse circles sections diverse wayes Tend to their proper centers, as their stayes; So these two sections do conjoine in one, To make the arch, and finisht in a cone, As everie peace these bowing arches bends, It rightlie pointing to the center tends. So heavens respect the earth, and all their powers Together in her bosome strongly powres, VVhich is their center, roote, and sure pedestall The stedfast base whereon this VVorld doth rest all. Thus mans ingine Gods works doth imitate And skilfull Art doth nature emulat. As Archimedes in a sphere of glasse The worlds great fabrick lively did expresse, VVith all the stars fixt in the azure heaven, And all the motions of the wandring seven, Moving about a fixed point or center, Observing houres, dayes, months, summer, and winter. Even so the arches of this bridge proclaime, And shew the building of the starrie frame: But now all lost, needs Archimedes skill, Oh if it were supplied by Master Mylne! Thus having past the bridge, our oares we bend To shore, so this day voyage made an end.

The sixth Muse.

AS we arrived at our Ladies steps, Incontinent all men reverst their capes, Bidding us welcome home, and joining hand, They ask from whence we came, and from what land? Said we, Some curious catching everie winde * 1.58 Do run through sea and land to either Inde, And compassing the glob, in circuit role, Some new found lands to search beneath each pole, Or Memphis, wonders, or the Pharian tower, * 1.59 Or walls which shew the Babylonian power; Or hung in th'air the Mausolean frame, Or statelie' temple of the Trivian dame, The Rhodian Colossus, and the grove, Where stood the statue of Olympian Iove, With endlesse toile and labour passe to see, Or if in all this world more wonders be, They search the same, and so they stoutlie boast, Yet both themselves and paines are oft times lost: For going men, if they return perhaps, Strange change, in swine transformed are their shaps:

Albeit some, though rare, who go from hence, Returne, like him of Ithaca was Prince: But we, more safely passing all alongs, Are not bewitched with such Syren songs. In little much, well traveld in short ground Do search what wonders in the world are found; Treading these mountains, and these pleasant valleyes, Elisian fields had never braver allies Then we imagine, and for wonders rare More than the Carian tombe which hings in air Do we conceave. Of travels let them talk, We in the works of learned men do walk And painfully their learned paths do tread, For sure he's traveld far who is well read Yea who so views my Cabinets rich store, Is traveld through the world, and some part more. Let this suffice we travell to content us, And of our travels think nev'r to repent us, Yea in our Muses, we do travell more Than they that coast and sound the Indian shore. Yet think not so brave travels we condemne, If with safe conscience we may use the same; Nor do we speak voide of experience, For both of us have traveld been in France, And France for all, and if that will not ease you We think then all this world will never please you.

Then went we home to get some recreation, But by and by befell a new tentation: Our neighbour archers our good sport envying, A challenge to us sent, our patience trying,

And did provoke us, if we shut for gold, Or honours praise, betimes, to morrow would: Or for our mistres if we had a minde, Doubtlesse, said Gall, thereto vve are inclinde: But for the present vve have taken in hand To vievv our fields by river and by land; Boast not therefore, for nothing vvill disheart us, Nor from our present progresse vvill divert us. But of our journey having made an end, Our lives in such brave quarrell vvill vve spend.

This ansvvere vvhen they heard, they did compeer VVith ardent hearts some further nevves to speer, And vvhat brave sport vve found, vvhat pastime rare? Forthvvith in loftie verse Gall to declare Began, his breast vvhen Phoebus once did vvarme, Their ears and hearts, his heavenly voice did charme, And I to keep a consort vvith full voice, As fell by turn, did make them all rejoice VVith svveetest rimes; for both of us inclinde, Even as Democritus did truely minde Of Poets all, vvhen once that sacred fire * 1.60 VVith divine furie did our breasts inspire. And thus vvith heavenlie rapture, as transported That vvhole dayes journey Gall to them reported, Till Hesperus appeard, and in despight Of heavens vvhich hearkned, forc'd to bid good night. VVhich vvhen I call to minde, it makes me cry Gall, svveetest Gall, vvhat ailed the to die?

The night vvas short, Phoebus did touch the line VVhere cruked Cancer makes him to decline,

No sleep could close mine eyes, but wake must I, Till fair Aurora did inlight the sky. Then up I got, and where good Gall did ly, With mightie voice and chanting did I cry, Good Master Gall, arise, you sleep too long With Hey the day now dawnes, so was my song, The day now dawnes, Arise good Master Gall, Who answering said, Monsier, I heare you call: And up he got. Then to our bearge we go, To answer us our boatman wondrous slow, When we did call, thrise lifting up his head, Thrise to the ground did fall againe as dead. But him to raise, I sung Hay the day dawnes; The drowsie Fellow wakning, gaunts, and yawnes; But getting up at last, and with a blow Raising his fellow, bad him quickly row. Then merrielie we leanche into the deep, Phoebus meane while awakned rose from sleep, At his appointed houre, the pleasant morning. With guilded beames the cristall streames adorning: The pearled dew on tender grasse did hing, And heavenly quires of birds did sweetlie sing: Down by the sweet south inche we sliding go, Ten thousand dangling diamonds did show The radiant repercussion of Sols rayes And spreading flowres did looke like Argoes eyes.

Then did we talk of citie toiles and cares, Thrice happie counting him shuns these affaires, And with us have delight these fields to haunt Some pastorall or sonnet sweet to chant.

And view from far th'ambitions of this age, Turning the helmes of states, and in their rage Make shipwrake of the same on shelfs and sands, Running be lawles lawes and hard commands, And often drown themselves in flouds of woes, As many shipwraks of this kinde well showes. We passe our time upon the forked mountain, And drink the cristall waters of the fountain. Dig'd by the winged horse; we sing the trees The cornes, and flocks, and labours of the bees; Of sheepheard lads, and lasses homelie love, And some time straine our oaten pipe above That mean: we sing of Hero and Leander Yea Mars, all cled in steel; and Alexander. But Cynthius us pulling by the ear Did warning give, to keep a lower air, But keep what air we will, who can well say That he himself preserve from shipwrake may? In stormie seas, while as the ship doth reele Of publick state, the meanest boy may feele Shipwrack, as well as he the helme who guides, When seas do rage with winds and contrare tides. Which: ah too true I found, upon an ore * 1.61 Not long ago, while as I swim'd to shore, Witnesse my drenshed cloaths, as you did see, Which I to Neptune gave in votarie And signe of safetie. Answered Master Gall, Monsier, your table hung on Neptunes wall Did all your losse so livelie point to me, That I did mourne, poore soul, when I did see.

But you may know in stormes, thus goeth the mater, No fish doth sip in troubled seas clean water. Courage therefore, that cloud is overgone, Therefore as we were wont, let us sing on. For in this morning sounded in mine ear The sweetest musick ever I did hear In all my life, good Master Gall, quod I You to awake, I sung so merrielie. Monsier, quoth he, I pray thee ease my spleane, And let me heare that Musick once againe. With Hay the day now dawnes, then up I got, And did advance my voice to Elaes note, I did so sweetlie flat and sharply sing, While I made all the rocks with Echoes ring.

Meane while our boat, by Freertown hole doth slide, Our course not stopped with the flowing tide, We ned nor card, nor crostaffe for our Pole, But from thence landing clam the Dragon hole, * 1.62 With crampets on our feet, and clubs in hand, Where its recorded Iamie Keddie fand A stone inchanted, like to Gyges ring, Which made him disappear, a wondrous thing, If it had been his hap to have retaind it, But loosing it, againe could never finde it: VVithin this cove ofttimes did we repose As being sundred from the citie woes.

From thence we, passing by the Windie gowle, Did make the hollow rocks with echoes yowle; * 1.63 And all alongst the mountains of Kinnoule, VVhere did we shut at many foxe and fowle. * 1.64

Kinnoule, so famous in the dayes of old! Where stood a castle and a stately hold Of great antiquity, by brink of Tay Woods were above, beneath fair medowes lay In prospect proper Perth, with all her graces, Fair plantings, spatious greens, religious places, Though now defac'd through age, and rage of men, Within this place a Ladie did remaine * 1.65 Of great experience, who likewise knew By sprite of prophecie, what should ensue, Who saw wight Wallace, and brave Bruce on live, And both their manhoods lively did descrive Unto that noble Prince, first of that name, Worthie King Iames, who hearing of her fame, Went to her house, these histories to learne, When as for age her eyes could scarce discerne.

This Ladie did foretell of many things * 1.66 Of Britaines unioun under Scotish Kings, And after ending of our civill feeds, Our speares in syths; our swords should turn in speads, In signe whereof there should arise a Knight Sprung of the bloodie yoak, who should of right Possesse these lands, which she then held in fea, VVho for his worth and matchlesse loyaltie Unto his Prince, should greatly be renownd And of these lands instyl'd, and Earle be crownd; VVhose son in spight of Tay, should joine these lands Firmely by stone on either side vvhich stands,

Thence to the top of Law Tay did vve hye, From vvhence the countrie round about vve spy,

And from the airie Mountaine looking down, * 1.67 Beheld the stance and figure of our town, Quadrat with longer sides, from east to wast, Whose streets, wals, fowsies in our eyes did cast A prettie shew: Then gan I to declare VVhere our old Monastries, with Churches fair Sometime did stand, placed at everie corner VVas one, which with great beautie did adorne her, The Charterhouse toward the southvvest stood, And at South-east the Friers, who weare gray hood. Toward the North the BlackFriers Church did stand; And Carmelits upon the VVesterne hand; VVith many chappels standing heere and there And steeples fairly mounted in the air, Our Ladies Church, Saint Catharins, and Saint Paules, VVhere many a messe was sung for defunct souls. The chappell of the rood, and sweet Saint Anne, And Lorets chappell, from Romes Vaticane * 1.68 Transported hither, for a time took sasing, (You know the Cloister monkes write nev'r a leasing.) For what offence I know not, or disdaine, But that same chappell borne hence is againe, For it appeares no more, look who so list, Or else I'm sure its covered with a mist Saint Leonards cloister, mourning Magdolené, VVhose cristall Fountaine flowes like Hippocrené. Saint Iohnes fair church, as yet in mids did stand: A braver sight vvas not in all this land Than vvas that tovvn, vvhen thus it stood decord As not a fevv, yet living, can record.

And to be short, for this we may not tarie on, Of that old town this nought is but the carion. Monsier, said Gall, that for a truth I know These Kirks and Cloisters made a goodly show; But this as truely I dar well alleadge, These Kirkmen usde the greatest cousenage That ev'r was seene or heard. Good Gall, quoth I, How can that be? Monsier, if you will try, Too much true shall you finde. Pray thee, good Gall, Your speach to me seemes paradoxicall; Therefore I would it know: Monsier, quoth he, And shall I show what such Idolatrie Hath brought upon that town? The many closters VVhere fed there was so many idle fosters, Monks, Priests, and Friers, and multitude of Patrons, Erected in their queires; th' old wifes and matrons Gave great head to these things, which they did say, And made their horned husbands to obey; And mortifie so much unto this Saint, And unto that, though they themselves should want▪ Yea twentie Saincts about one tenement, Each one of them to have an yeerlie rent, And all to pray for one poore wretched soul, VVhich Purgatorie fire so fierce should thole. So these annuities, yeerelie taxations, Are causes of these wofull desolations VVhich we behold. The ground of all these evils, * 1.69 VVhat to these Saincts they gave, was given to Divels. God made them Saincts, men set them in Gods stead, Gave them Gods honour; so them idols made:

Thus Satan served is; what men allow On idols in his Name; to him they do: And now these Friers destroyers may be seene, And wracks of that cities the cause have been: For none dare buy the smallest peace of ground, So many annuel rents thereon are found, And if he build thereon, doubtlesse he shall Spend in long suits of Law his moyen all. If some good salve cure not this sore, I fear It shall be said, some time a town was there.

Good Gall, said I, some melancholious fit Molests your Joviall sprite, and pregnat vvit, I vvould some Venus-heir might cure your sadnesse; Repell your sorrovves, and repleage your gladnesse: Therefore I'le quickelie go a herbarising To cure that melancholik mood by snising.

Herevvith vve turne our pace, and dovvn againe Passe by the Windie gowle, unto the plaine; And herbarising there a prettie vvhile, Galls lustie face blithly began to smile: Guesse then hovv blith vvas I, if I had found (I vvould not been so blith) a thousand pound. Thus recreat, to boat againe vve go, And dovvn the river smothly do vve rovv, Neerby Kinfaunes, vvhich famous Longoveil Sometime did hold; vvhose auncient svvord of steele * 1.70 Remaines unto this day, and of that land Is chiefest evident; on th'other hand Elcho and Elcho park, vvhere Wallace haunted, * 1.71 A sure refuge, vvhen Englishmen he daunted;

And Elcho. nunrie, vvhere the holy sisters Suppli'd vvere by the Fratres in their misters. By Sleeplesse Isle vve rovv, vvhich our good Kings * 1.72 Gave to our tovvn vvith many better things. Before there vvas in that neere neighbouring station, Or Frier or Nun to set there their foundation. On th'other side vve lookt unto Balthyok VVhere many peacock cals upon his mayok. * 1.73 Megeance fair place, and Errols pleasant seat, * 1.74 VVith many more, vvhich long vvere to relate. Right over against is that vvood Earnside, And fort vvhere Wallace ofttimes did reside: * 1.75 While vve beheld all these, the tide did flovv, A lie the rudder goes; about vve rovv, Up to the tovvn again vve make our course, Svveetly convoy'd vvith Tayes reflovving source.

There vve beheld vvhere Wallace ship vvas drovvnd, VVhich he brought out of France, vvhose bottome found * 1.76 VVas not long since, by Master Dickesons art, That rare ingeniour, skild in everie part Of Mathemathick; Quoth I, Master Gall, I marvell our records nothing at all Do mention Wallace going into France, * 1.77 Hovv that can be forgote I greatlie scance, For vvell I knovv all Gasconie and Guien Do hold that Wallace vvas a mightie Gian, Even to this day; in Rochel likevvise found A Tovvre from Wallace name greatly renovvnd. Yea Longoveils antiquities, vvhich there We do behold, this truely do declare

That Wallace was in France; for after that The publick place of government he quat, Were full four yeeres and more, before he shed His dearest bloud, ah dearest truelie said: And think you then that such a martiall heart Yeelding his place, would sojourne in this part, And lazely ly loytring in some hole? That any so should think I hardlie thole; Therefore I grieve our men should have forgotten Themselves, and left so brave a point unwritten; Or should it contradict, there being so many Good reasons for this truth, as is for any.

Monsier, said he, that's not a thing to grieve at, For they did write his publick life, not privat: For sure it is, after his publick charge Grief made him go to France, his spirit t'enlarge, His noble Sprite, that thraldome suffered never, For he to libertie aspired ever; And turning home, his ship causde sunken be, To stop the rivers passage, that from sea No English ship should come Perth to releave, For any chance of war Fortune could give. But now this ship, which so long time before In waters lay, is fairlie haild a shoare; What cannot skill by Mathematick move? As would appeare things Natures reach above.

Up by the Willow gate we make our way; With flowing waters pleasant then was Tay. The town appeares; the great and strong Spey towre, And Monks towre, builded round; a wall of power

Extending twixt the two, thence goeth a snout Of great squair stones, which turnes the streames about; Two ports with double wals; on either hand Are fowsies deep, where gorged waters stand, And flow even as you list: but over all * 1.78 The Palace kythes, may nam'd be Perths Whithall. With orchards, like these of Hesperides But who shall shew the Ephemerides Of these things, which sometimes adornd that Citie? That they should all be lost, it were great pitie. Whose antique monuments are a great deale more Than any inward riches, pomp or store; And priviledges would you truely know? Far more indeed, than I can truelie show; Such were our Kings good wills, for to declare What pleasure and contentment they had there: But of all priviledges this is the bravest, King Iames the Sixth was Burges made and Provest; And gave his Burges oath, and did inrole * 1.79 With his own hand within the Burges scrole And Gildrie Book his deare and worthie Name, Which doth remaine to Perths perpetuall fame, And that Kings glorie, thus was his gratious pleasure Of his most loving heart to shew the treasure; Writing beneath his Name these words most nervous, Parcere subjectis, & debellare superbos. That is, It is the Lyons great renown To spare the humble, and proudlings pester down. Which extant with his own hand you may see: And, as inspir'd, thus did he prophesie,

VVhat will you say, if this shall come to hand, Perths Provest Londons Major shall command. VVhich words, when we did hear, we much admir'd, And everie one of us often inquir'd What these could meane? Some said, he meand such one, That London, yea all England like had none, Some said, he mindes his dignitie and place; Others his gifts of Nature, and of Grace. All which were true indeed, yet none could say, He mean'd that Englands scepter he should swey, Till that it came to passe some few yeeres after, Then hearts with joy, and mouths were fild with laughter: Happie King Iames the sixth, so may I say, For I a man most Joviall was that day, And had good reason, when I kist that hand, VVhich afterwards all Britaine did command.

Monsier, said Gall, I sweare you had good reason Most glad to be that day: for you of treason Assoylied was, of your unhappie chief: Pray thee good Gall, quod I, move not my grief. Said Gall, Monsier, That point I will not touch, They'l tine their coales that burnes you for a witch. A witch, good Gall, quod I, I will be sworne, VVitchcraft's the thing that I could never learne; Yea Master Gall, I swear that I had rather Ten thousand Chiefs been kill'd, or had my Father, The King is Pater patriae, a chief Oft times is borne for all his kinnes mischief. And more, I know was never heart, nor hand Did prosper, which that King did ev'r vvithstand.

Therefore good Gall, I pray thee let that passe, That happie King knew well what man I was.

While we thus talk, our boat drawes nie the shoare, Our fellowes all for joy begin to roare When they us see. and lowdly thus gan call, Welcome, good Monsier, welcome Master Gall; Come, come a land, and let us merrie be, For as your boat most happilie we did see, Incontinent we bargaind to and fro, Some said, It was your Berge, and some said, No: But we have gaind the prise, and pleadges all, Therefore come Monsier, come good Master Gall; And let us merrie be, while these may last; Till all be spent we think to take no rest. And so it was, no sleep came in our head, Till fair Aurora left Tithonus bed. Above all things so was good Gals desire, VVho of good companie could never tire, VVhich when I call to minde, it makes me cry, Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?

The seventh Muse.

UP springs the Sun, the day is cleer, and fair, Etesiae, sweetlie breathing, cools the air;

Then coming to my Cabin in a band, Each man of us a Gabion hints in hand. Where me their Sergeant Major they elected, At my command that day to be directed. * 1.80 What prettie captaine's yone (so said some wenches) Ladies, quoth I, Men are not met by inches. The Macedonian Monarch was call'd great, Not from his Bodies quantitie, but state And Martiall prowesse, good Ladies then to heart you, You shall well know that talenesse is no vertue.

Thus merche we all alongs unto Moncreiff Where dwells that worthie Knight, the famous chief * 1.81 Of all that auncient name: And passing by Three trees sprung of one root we did espy: Which when we did behold, said Master Gall. * 1.82 Monsier, behold these trees, so great and tall Sprung of one root, which all Men Brethren name, The symbole which true concord doth proclame.

O happie presage, where such trees do grow, These Brethren three the threefold Gerion show, Invincible, remaining in one minde, Three hearts as in one Body fast combinde, Scilurus bundell knit, doth whole abide, But easily is broke, when once unty'd. So these three trees do symbolize most cleerly; The amitie of hearts and mindes, inteirly Kythes in that happie race, and doth presage To it more happinesse in after age; Loves sweetest knot, which three in one doth bring That budding gemme shall make more flourishing

Fair Brethren Trees, and sith so is your Name, Be still the badge of concord, and proclaime All health and wealth, unto that happie race, Where grace and vertue mutually embrace.

To Moncrief easterne, then to Wallace-town To Fingask of Dundas, thence passing down Unto the Rynd, as Martiall Men, we faire. What life Mans heart could wish more void of care? Passing the river Earne, on th'other side, Dreilling our Sojours, Vulgars were affraide.

Thence to the Pights great Metropolitan, Where stands a steeple, the like in all Britaine * 1.83 Not to be found againe, a work of wonder, So tall and round in frame, a just cylinder Built by the Pights in honour of their King, That of the Scots none should attempt such thing, As over his bellie big to walk or ride, But this strong hold should make him to abide. Unlesse on Pegasus that he would flee, Or on Ioves bird should soare into the skye, As rode Bellerophon and Ganymede: But mounted so must ride no giddie head.

From thence we merch't directlie unto Dron, And from that stead past to the Rocking stone; Accompanied with Infantrie a band, Each of us had a hunting staffe in hand, With whistles shrile, the fleeing fowles to charme, And fowlers nets upon our other arme: But as for me about my neck vvas borne, To sound the chace a mightie hunting horne;

And as I blevv vvith all my might and maine, The hollovv rocks did ansvvere make againe, Then everie man in this cleare companie Who best should vvinde the horne began to try; Among the rest a fellovv in the rout Boldly began to boast, and brave it out, That he vvould vvind the horne in such a vvise, That easelie he vvould obtaine the prise, But to record vvhat chance there follovved after Gladly I vvould, but grief forbiddeth laughter, For so it vvas the merrie man vvas mard, Both tongue and teeth, I vvot, vvere tightly tard; Then no more stay; Fellovv, good night, quod vve, Th'old proverb sayes, that Dirt partes Companie.

By this vve vvere just at the Rocking stone, Amongst the vvorlds great vvonders, it is one * 1.84 Most rare: It is a Phaenix in its kinde, The like in all the vvorld yee shall not finde: A stone so neicely set upon its kernels, Not artificiall, but naturall chernels, So huge, so grave, that if you please to prove it, A hundred yoak of oxen vvill not move it, Yet touch it vvith your fingers smallest knocking, Incontinent it vvill fall to a rocking, And shake, and shiver; as if obedient, More by request, than by commandement. Then up I clame this rock, as I vvas vvonted, And like Aegeon on Whales back I mounted, And vvith Etites ra••ling stone I knocked, And as it ratled, even so vvas I rocked.

So fair a cradle, and rare was never seene Oh if my Cabinet could it conteine!

Next at the bridge of Earne we made our Station, And there we took some little recreation; * 1.85 VVhere in Heroicks Gall fell to declaring All circumstances of that dayes wayfairing, And there so merrielie we sung, and chanted, Happie were they our companie who haunted, VVhich when I call to minde it makes me cry, Gall, svveetest Gall, what ailed thee to die.

The eight Muse.

WHat blooming banks sweet Earne, or fairest Tay, Or Amond doth embrace; these many a day We haunted; where our pleasant pastorals VVe sweetly sung, and merrie madrigals: Sometimes bold Mars, and sometimes Venus fair, And sometimes Phoebus love we did declare; Sometimes on pleasant plaines, sometimes on mountains, And sometimes sweetlie sung beside the fountains. * 1.86

But in these banks where flowes Saint Conils VVell, The which Thessalian tempe doth excell.

Whose name and matchlesse fame for to declare, In this most dolefull dittey, must I spare: Yet thus dar say, that in the World again No place more meet for Muses to remain; For shadowing walks, where silver brooks do spring, And smelling arbors, where birds sweetly sing, In heavenly Musick warbling like Arion, Like Thracian Orpheus, Linus, or Amphion, That Helicon, Parnassus, Pindus fair To these most pleasant banks scarce can compare.

These be the banks where all the Muses dwell, And haunt about that cristall brook and well, Into these banks chiefly did we repair Erom Shunshine shadowed, and from blasting air. There with the Muses we did sing our songs, Sometimes for pleasure, sometimes for our wrongs; For in those dayes, none durst approach their table, But we, to taste their dainties, this no fable.

From thence to Methven wood we took our way, Soone be Aurora fair did kyth the day; And having rested there some little space, Againe we did betake us to our chace, Raising the Does and Roes forth of their dennes, And watrie fowles out of the marrish fennes, That if Diana had been in that place, Would thought, in hunting we had stain'd her grace.

To Methven Castle, where Gall did declare How Margaret Teuther, Queen, sometimes dwelt there; First daughter to King Henrie seventh, who closes * 1.87 York-Lancaster in one, Englands two roses.

A happie union after long debate, But union much more happie, and more great Even by that same Queen springs, and by her race Whereby all Britaine joyes long wished peace. Hence came King Iames his title to the Crowne Of England, by both parents of renowne. Hence comes our happie peace, so be it ay, That peace with truth in Britaine flourish may. Right over to Forteviot, did we hy, * 1.88 And there the ruin'd castle did we spy Of Malcolme Ken-more, whom Mackduff then Than•• * 1.89 Of Fife, (so cald) from England brought againe, And fiercelie did persue tyrant Makbeth, Usurper of the Crowne, even to the death. These castles ruines when we did consider, We saw that wasting time makes all things wither. To Dupline then, and shades of Aberdagie, From thence to Mailer, and came home by Craigie. Soone by that time, before three dayes were done, We went to se the monuments of Scone, As was our promise, Scones Nymphs see we must, For in such vowes we were exceeding just. And there with Ovid thus did we declare, Heere is a greene, where stood a Temple fair: Where was the fatall chaire, and marble stone, * 1.90 Having this Motto rare incisde thereon, This is the stone, if fates do not deceave, Where e're its found the Scots shall kingdome have. Which Longshanks did transport to Troyuovant, As Troy took in the horse by Grecia sent

So we, who sprung were of the Grecian crue, Like stratageme on Trojans did renew. Oh if this fatall chaire transported were To Spaine, that we like conquest might make there, From thence to Italie, to Rome, to Grece, To Colchos, thence to bring the golden fleece: And in a word, we wish this happie chaire Unto the furthest Indes transported were, That mightiest Kingdomes might their presents bring, And bow to Charles as to their soveraigne King.

Neerby we view that famous Earthen Mount, Whereon our Kings to crowned be were wont: * 1.91 And while we do consider, there we found Demonstrat was the quadrat of the round, Which Euclide could not finde, nor Pater Erra, By guesse we did it finde on Omnis terra. And if you Geometers hereof do doubt, Come view the place, and yee shall finde it out. A demonstration so wondrous rare, In all the world, I think, none may compare.

Thence need we must go see the Mure of Scone, And view where Pights were utterlie undone * 1.92 By valiant Scots, and brought to desolation, That since they never had the name of nation. Seven times that fight renew'd was in one day Pights seven times quaild, Scots were victorious ay; Hence is it said, when men shall be undone, We shall upon them bring the mure of Scone. King Donskine with his remnant Pights neere Tay All kild, did crown the victorie of that day.

Then valiant Kenneth went to Camelon, And threw to Earth King Donskins ancient throne.

So greatest Kingdomes to their periods tend, And everything that growes, must have an end. Where is that golden head that reing'd so long, The silver armes and bellie of brasse most strong? The yron legs divided now in toes Are mixt with clay: and so the world it goes. Thus nations like stars in multitude, Like sand on shore, or fishes in the floud; Yea rooted in the Earth so deep, so long, As on the mountains grow the Cedars strong, Yet time hath overturn'd them, and their names Are past, as Letters written on the streames: To tell us, here we have no constant biding, The world unto decay is alwayes sliding, One Kingdome ever doth remaine, and all Gainst it who rise to powder turne they shall.

Neere this we did perceave where proud Makbeth, Who to the furies did his soul bequeath, * 1.93 His castle mounted on Dunsinnen hill, Causing the mightiest peeres obey his will, And bow their necks to build his Babylon; Thus Nimrod-like he did triumph upon That mountain, which doth overtop that plaine: And as the starrie heaven he should attaine, A loftie tower, and Atlas caused build, Then tyrannizing, rag'd as Nimrod wild: Who had this strange response that none should catch him That borne was of a woman, or should match him:

Nor any horse should overtake him there, But yet his sprite deceav'd him by a mare, And by a man was not of woman borne For brave Makduff was from his mother shorne. * 1.94 Makduff cald Thane of Fife, who home did bring King Malcolme Kenmore was our native King. Ken-more, great-head, a great-head should be wise, To bring to nought a Nimrods enterprise! Vp to Dunsinnen's top then did we clim, With panting heart, weak loynes, and wearied limme, And from the mountains height, which was well windie, We spy where Wallace cave was at Kilspindie. But there we might not stay, thence to the plaine * 1.95 With swifter pace we do come down againe. Descent is easie, any man can tell; For men do easelie descend to Hell.

When we had view'd these fields both heere and there, As wearied Pilgrims gan we Home to fair; Home, happie is that word, at Home in Heaven, Where Gall now rests above the Planets seven, And I am left this wretched Earth upon, Thy losse, vvith all my Gabions, to bemoane: Then mourne vvith me my Gabions, and cry, Gall, svveetest Gall, vvhat ailed thee to die?

The ninth Muse.

WHat! Could there more be done, let any say, Nor I did to prevent this dolefull day? For when I saw Galls fatall constellation Would not permit him in this Earthly station Long to abide; then did I give a tryall, To make impartiall fate susteene denyall, By herbarising while I prov'd my skill, On top of Law-Tay, and stay Mooredowne hill, Collecting vegetables in these parts, By all the skill of Apollinian Arts, If possible't had been, fate to neglect him, By heavenlie skill immortall for to make him.

But sith that Phaebus could not stemme the bloud Of Hyacinthus in his sowning moud, How then should I? a mortall! ah too shallow! In wit and art presse to outreach Apollo? Far be the thought, I therefore must absent me, And never more unto the World present me, But solitarie with my Gabions stay, And help them for to mourne till dying day.

Then farewell Cabine, farewell Gabions all, Then must I meet in heaven with Master Gall: And till that time I will set foorth his praise In Elegies of wo, and mourning layes, And weeping for his sake still will I cry, Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The auth•• of this boo•• did write t•• Pantheon, which wa•• fathered o•• Master Ga••
• * 1.2

  Bowes.
• * 1.3

  Clubs.
• * 1.4

  Curling stones.
• * 1.5

  Archerie
• * 1.6

  The pre∣••nded Poet ••hen he shot ••rivers, used ••say Have ••the knee of ••ion.
• * 1.7

  Bertha
• * 1.8

  ••wsie, or ••lhousie.
• * 1.9

  ••he battell ••he north
• * 1.10

  Inch betw•• thirtie an•• thirtie.
• * 1.11

  Henrie wi••
• * 1.12

  Black Frie•• where kille•• was King Iames the first.
• * 1.13

  The Charter ••ouse, or Car∣••usian mo∣••astery, wher ••uried was ••ing James ••e first, was ••uilt by him.
• * 1.14

  Aeneas Sylvius.
• * 1.15

  Campsie-li
• * 1.16

  ••he old ••emies of ••cotland.
• * 1.17

  Commodi∣••s of Scot∣••d.
• * 1.18

  Couragio worthies Scotland.
• * 1.19

  DIN∣••URGH.
• * 1.20

  Countrie clowns hal•• asses.
• * 1.21

  Gall was a ••le & good∣•• man, M. George a ••onnie little ••an.
• * 1.22

  Nymphes.
• * 1.23

  Echo.
• * 1.24

  ••ontempt of ••rning.
• * 1.25

  ••hat a Poet ••n do.
• * 1.26

  ••dge of ••y.
• * 1.27

  ••st building 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the bridge 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Tay.
• * 1.28

  Wright work.
• * 1.29

  Fishing of pearles.
• * 1.30

  The wals Perth.
• * 1.31

  ••allace ex∣••leth the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 our Perth.
• * 1.32

  ••allace sur∣••ders the ••vernment.
• * 1.33

  Bruce.
• * 1.34

  Buchan. li•• 8. pag. 272.
• * 1.35

  Baliol.
• * 1.36

  Duplin field
• * 1.37

  ••erth besei∣••d three ••onths.
• * 1.38

  Is taken, a•• her wals r•• zed.
• * 1.39

  King Edwa•• the third t•• keth capti•• the Baliol•• takes in Pe•• and rebuil•• her wals.
• * 1.40

  ••ng Robert ••e second ••liggereth ••rth, assisted 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Dou∣••as, & Earle Rosse.
• * 1.41

  ••rth surren∣••red by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.42

  The He•• land men a Burges Perth.
• * 1.43

  Are pers•• by the ci•• zens to Ho•• manstair••
• * 1.44

  The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 building 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the wals.
• * 1.45

  Perths old ••rgesses all ••osen men greatest ••nhood, for ••ence of ••t strength, ch. lib. 16. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 593.
• * 1.46

  The battell the bridge Tay its ••ent.
• * 1.47

  ••he occasi∣•• of the bat, 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.48

  ••he enemie ••tereth the ••wne too ••ldly.
• * 1.49

  The enemi•• fleeth.
• * 1.50

  Johnston ••and.
• * 1.51

  Persecut•• at Perth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the truth.
• * 1.52

  Catharins ••plan.
• * 1.53

  Knox preac•• eth, idols a•• throwndow and religio•• places.
• * 1.54

  ••e charter∣••sethrown ••n.
• * 1.55

  S. Iohnsto•• huntsup.
• * 1.56

  ••allace ••p.
• * 1.57

  ••ometricall ••cription ••wo sorts ••rches.
• * 1.58

  〈◊〉〈◊〉
• * 1.59

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 mira∣•• of the ••ld.
• * 1.60

  ••cludit sa∣•• Helicone ••tas Demo∣••tus, Ho∣••. in arte.
• * 1.61

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 speaketh 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Gowries ••spiracie.
• * 1.62

  Dragon ho••
• * 1.63

  Windie•• gowle.
• * 1.64

  Kinnoule•• castle.
• * 1.65

  ••nnouls La∣•• did see ••allace and ••e Bruce.
• * 1.66

  ••e prophe∣••.
• * 1.67

  Situation 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Perth.
• * 1.68

  Lorets cha•• pell transpo•• ted to Pert•• from Rom•• Vaticane.
• * 1.69

  Saints how ••ade idols, ••d devils.
• * 1.70

  Kinfanes.
• * 1.71

  Elcho.
• * 1.72

  ••leeplesse Isle.
• * 1.73

  Balthyok.
• * 1.74

  Megeance. Errol.
• * 1.75

  Earnside.
• * 1.76

  Wallace ship.
• * 1.77

  ••allace go∣••g to France ••t recorded ••d why.
• * 1.78

  ••erths Whit ••all.
• * 1.79

  King James ••he sixth Pro∣••est of Perth.
• * 1.80

  Talenes n•• vertue.
• * 1.81

  Moncreif
• * 1.82

  The b•• thren trees
• * 1.83

  bernethie.
• * 1.84

  The rocki stone of B•• vaird.
• * 1.85

  Bridge of rne.
• * 1.86

  ••unting ••er of old, ••d Luth∣••
• * 1.87

  Queen Mar∣garet Teu∣ther.
• * 1.88

  ••orteviot.
• * 1.89

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Malcolme ••enmore.
• * 1.90

  The marble ••haire.
• * 1.91

  Omnis terr.
• * 1.92

  Mure of Scone.
• * 1.93

  Makbeths ••stle on Dū∣••oun hill.
• * 1.94

  Makduf.
• * 1.95

  Wallace cave.