[To the richt high, Lodvvik Duke of Lenox ... J. Burel, wisheth lang life]

THE DISCRIPTI∣ON OF THE QVEENS MAIE∣STIES MAIST HONORABLE EN∣TRY INTO THE TOVN OF EDIN∣BVRGH, VPON THE 19. DAY OF MAII. 1590.

AT Edinburgh, as micht be seene, Vpon the nintene day of Maj, Our Prences spous, and soueraigne queen Hir nobil entry maid that day, Maist honorable, wes hir conuoy, With gladnes gret, triumph and ioy.

To recreat, hir hie renoun, Of curious things, thair wes all sort, The stairs and houses of the toun, With Tapestries, were spred athort: Quhair Histories, men micht behauld, With Imagis, and antiks auld.

No man in mind, culd weill consaue, The curious warks, before his eis, In Tapestries, ye micht persaue, Young Ramel, wrocht like lawrell treis: With syndrie sorts of Chalandrie, In curious forme of Carpentrie.

It written wes, with stories mae,

How VENVS, with a thundring thud, Inclosd ACHATES and ENAE, Within a mekill mistie clud: And how fair ANNA wondrous wraith, Deplors hir sister DIDOS daith.

Thair wes the blindit artchour boy, Schuting crafty INTICLOTES, Thair wes discriu'd, the wrack of Troy, And how the proud PHILOCLITES: Schot prudent PARIS throw the thie, With poisond dart, quhilk gart him die.

Iô, with hir goldin glitring hair, Wes portret wondrous properlie, And POLIPHEME, wes pentit thair, Quha in his foreheid had ane eie: Beneth him bot ane litill space, Wes IANVS, with the doubill face.

Of ROMOLVS, I saw the wonder, How for his interprise prophane, In counterfeting of the thunder, For his reward, thairwith wes slane: And thair wes wrocht, with goldin threid, MEDVSA, with the monstrus heid.

Of historeis, I saw anew, That fragill wer, and friuolus, How TRITON, at the Sea side slew, MISENVS, sonne to AEOLVS: Beside that historie thair stands, BRIARIVS, with his hundreth hands.

The story of ACHILLES stout, With gold wes browderd thair abreid, And how wise PALLACE, did spring out,

At michtie IVPITERS foreheid: And ICARVS, throw fleing hie, With waxit wingis fel in these.

How IAON, SESRA did persew, And draue ane naill into his brow, And IEPHTE, quho his dochter slew, For till obserue his oath and vowe: And how that all gret NILVS flud, Wes turnd and alterd into blud.

How IOVE did with the Giants do, And how of thame he vaslage wan, Thair PHOCOMES, wes portrait to, Quho beirs baith schap of hors and man: And how that he gat throw the hairt, Throw schot of MOPSIS deidlie dairt.

IXION, that the quheill dois turne, In Hell, that vgly hole so mirk, And EROSTRATVS, quha did burne, The costly fair EPHESIEN Kirk: And BLIADES, quho fals in soun, With drawing buckets vp and down.

As MERCVRIE, with charmit rods, The hundreth eis of ARGVS traps, And how that TIPHON chast the gods, Compelling thame to change thair schaps: For PHEBVS, wes turnd in a cat, And VENVS, in a fiche maist flat.

Thir things wer patent to the eis, Of sindry as ye knaw your sell, For thay wer into tapestreis, Better descriu'd nor I can tell: Thir I beheld quhair I did go,

With mony hundreth thousand mo.

Braue nobill men, of all kin sorts, Triumphantly, beside hir raid, First at hir entry, at the ports, Trim Harangs, till hir grace wes maid, Hir salutatioun, thair wes sung, In ornat stile, of Latine toung.

Gif ILIONVS, had bene thair, That oratour of eloquence, I doubt, gif he could haue done mair, For all his gret intelligence: Declaring with a gret renown, How sche wes welcome to the town.

Nor DEMADES, quhois prais is pend, In euerie part as we persaue, Quho for his ornat style wes send, Till ANTIPATER pece to craue: Thocht he wes eloquent and wise, Na finer frais, he culd deuise.

All curious pastimes and consaits, Culd be imaginat be man, Wes to be sene on Edinburgh gaits: Fra time that brauitie began: Ye micht haif hard on euerie streit, Trym melody, and musick sweit.

Thocht PHILAMON, his braith had blawin, For musick, quho wes countit king, His trumpal tune, had not ben knawin, Sic sugrit voycis, thair did sing, For thair the dascant did abound, With the sweit diapason sound.

Tennour, and trebill with sweit sence, Ilkane with pairts, gaif nots agane, Fabourdoun fell, with decadence, With priksang, and the singing plane: Thair enfants sang, and barnely brudis, Quho had bot new begun the mudis.

Musiciners, thair pairts expond, And als for joy, the bellis wer rung, The instruments, did corospond, Vnto the musick, quhilk wes sung: All sort of instruments, wer thair, As sindry can, the same declair.

Organs and Regals, thair did carpe, With thair gay goldin glittring strings, Thair wes the Hautbois and the Harpe, Playing maist sweit and pleasant springs: And sum on Lutis, did play and sing, Of instruments, the onely King.

Viols and Virginals were heir, With Girthorns, maist iucundious, Trumpets and Tymbrels, maid gret beir, With instruments melodious: The Seistar and the Sumphion, With Clarche pipe and Clarion.

Thir notes seemd heuinly sweit and hie, And not like tunes terrestriall, APOLLO thair, appeird to be, Thair sound, wes so celestiall: O PAN, amang sick pleasant plais, Thy rustik pipe, can haue na prais.

Thocht ORPHEVS, gat gret commend, For melodie, and gud ingine,

His cumly springs, had not bene kend, Howbeid, that thay were maist deuine: Nor AMPHION, quho did begyn, Na honour heir, he culd haue wyn.

ANNA, our welbelouit Queene, Sat in hir goldin Coche so bricht, And efter sche, thir things had seene, Syne she beheld, ane heuinly sicht: Of Nymphs, quho supit NECTAR cauld, Quhois brauities, can scarce be tauld.

Thir Nymphs, were plantit in this place, As mony thousands, micht persaue, Quho for thair bewties and gud grace, Were chosin out amangst the laue: DIANAS Nymphs, thay may be namd, Beressoun, thay were vndefamd.

The circumstance can not be told, So strange, the mater dois apeir, Sum were cled into claith of gold, And sum in siluer, schining cleir: Thair gouns, gaue glancing in the marke, Thay were so wrocht, with goldsmith warke.

Mair brauer robes, were neuer bocht, Queene SEMERAMVS, til aray, With brodrie warke, thair bords wer wrocht, O God, gif that that thair gouns wes gay: With gubert warke, wrocht wondrous sure, Purfild with gold and siluer pure.

This far I may, thir Nymphs aduance, Not speking rashly, by the richt, Thair goldin robes, gaue not sick glance, As did thair heuinly bewties bricht:

Nor zit, thair iewels in sic greis, As did thair cumly cristall eis.

Thair properties, for to repeit, My dull ingine, can not disclose, Thair hair, like threids of gold did gleit, Thair facis, fragrant and formose: White was thair hyd, thocht it wes hid, Thair corall lips, like rosis rid.

Sick Parragons, but peir or maik, I wart, wes neuer seene before, Na properties, thir Nymphs did laik, Quhilk micht, thair cumly corps decore: All gifts, quhilk creaturs can clame, Dame nature, in thair corps did frame.

O DIONER, that hes the place, And beirs Dame bewties bell, I say, And thou O DAPHNE, fair of face, Quha wes the God APOLLOS pray: Gif that, thir virgens had bene thair, He had esteemd thame meikill mair.

O EVROPA, as Poets schaws, Quhome IVPITER did lufe indeid, He had acquite the, for thair caus, Gif thay had bene, into thy steid: He had not faild, this for to do, And PARIS likwais, HELEN to.

Had thay bene set, in PARIS sight, As wes the Goddessis, I mene, He scarce culd haue, discernit richt, Quhome to the Apill did pertene: Sick equall gifts, were in thame ludgt, That thay culd skantlie weill be iudgt.

Thir nobill Nymphis, maid reuerence, With gesture liuely and allairt, And efter thair obedience, Hir Grace past to ane vther pairt: Quhair sche, beheld sum to be schort, A coutert, in ane sauadge sort.

Into the seruice of our Queene, Thay offert thair maist willing mynds, Thir are the MOIRS, of quhom I mene, Quha dois inhabit in the ynds: Leuing thair land and dwelling place, For to do honour to hir Grace.

Thay haue na scant, nor indigence, Quhair thay do dwell, and haue exces, Nor zit thay haue na residence, With PHAVNVS, God of wildernes: Bot thay do dwell, quhair thay were wont, Beside SYNERDAS goldin mont.

Thair precious Iewels till expreme, And costly clethings to discriue, My simple wit cannot esteme, Agains the streme, quhy suld I striue: Thocht I want language, wit and lair, Yet as I can, I sall declair.

Thir sauagis, I you assure, Wer weil decord, as ye may knaw, For sum wer cled in siluer pure, And sum in Taffatie, white like snaw▪ Ay twa and twa, in ordour stands, With battons blank, into thair hands.

The pretious stains, can not be pend, With goldsmithis wark, wes thame amang,

Thair bodies skantly culd be kend, For cheins, quhilk ouer thair shoulders hang: Gold bracelets, on thair chakils hings, Thair fingers full, of costly rings.

That sicht, wes pleasant for to se, And woundrous nobill, to behold, Thair heids were garnisht gallandlie, With costly crancis, maid of gold: Braid blancis, hang aboue thair eis, With iewels of all Histories.

Vpon thair forebrows, thay did beir, Targats and Tablets, of trim warks, Pendants and Carcants, shining cleir, With Plumagis of gitie sparks: Vpon thair hyndheids, set wes syne, Buttons and brotchis, braue and fyne.

And Mairatour, I call to mynd, How euerie ane, had on thair front, Ane Charbuncle of rubie kynd, Togither with ane Diamont: And doun thair Haffats hang anew, Of Rubeis red, and Saphirs blew.

Into thair mouthis, as micht be seene, Quha had bene tentife to behold, Ane Emerauld, of colour greene, Set in ane pretie ring of gold: Syne thair wes hung, at thair hals bane, The Espinell, a precious stane.

Vpon thair brest, brauest of all, Were precious pearls of the Eist, The Rubie pallet and Th'opall, Togither with the Amatist:

Thair micht ye se mangs moue mo, The Topas and the Percudo.

Vpoun thair richt pape maist perfite, Thair I saw sindry stains beset, The Garned and the Agat quhyte, With mone mo, quhilk I forzet: Besid thir twa did hing alone, The Turcas and the Triapone.

Vpoun the left wer likwais knit, Twa proper stains of valure hie, The Iasynth, and the Chessolit, Iewels maist excellent to se: Amangs the rest I saw athort, The Rubie of the rarest sort.

Fornents thair Nauillis euery one, Bure precius Iewels braue and deir, The Cornalene and Calcedon, Quhilk of it self is quhyte and cleir: Thay bure the Orphir on thair back, Bot and the Onix gray and black.

All precius stains micht thair be fene, Quhilk in the world had ony name, Saue that quhilk CEFOPATRA Queene, Did swallow ore into hir wame: The veritie for till expres, That wes not thair I mon confes.

In Indea that goldin ground, Mair brauitie culd neuer be, The belts quhairwith thair waists wer bound Wer goldin cheins as ye micht se: Also with cheins both in and out, Thair arms wer womplit round about.

Let no man me esteme to raill, Nor think that raschelie I report, Thair theis wer likewais garnist haill, With gold cheins of that saming sort: Thair girtens wer of gold bestreik, Thair Legs thairwith wer furneist eik,

Fra top to tae I you assure, Thair corps with gold wes birnist bricht, Thay on thair feit, white buskins wure, Of costly skins, baith trim and ticht: To tell the treuth, and not to lie, That sicht wes plesant for to se.

Ilk ane in ordour keipit place, Als weill the formest as the last, Thir MOIRS, did mertch befoir hir grace, Quhile sche intill hir Pallace past: Far better bakit, nor ane Laird, With Burgisses to be thair gaird.

I haue forzet, how in a Robe, Of clenely crispe, side to his kneis, A bony boy out of the Globe, Gaue to hir grace, the siluer Keis: And how that he his harang maid, With countenance, quhilk did not faid,

Als I forzet, how wes declaird, Our nobill Kings genalogie, And now the folks, quha were in ward, Wer frely set at libertie: For to be schort, thay spent that day, In pastime, daliance and deray.

Forzetting als, the Burgis tryne, Without discriptioun of thair cace,

Not speiking of the riche propine, Quhilk thay did giue vnto hir grace: Nor how thay bure the vaill abreid, Quhilk hang aboue hir gracis heid.

Gif I in mind, suld nocht omit, Bot intill ordour, all resolue, The vollume, wald be woundrous grit, And very tedious to reuolue: Leuing the rest for to declair, Vnto thair memors, quho wer thair.

The Burgessis maist honorablie, Vpoun hir grace, did still atend, To tyme the haill solemnitie, And trim triumphe wes put to end: Sum speciall men, that wer imployd, Into hir palace hir conuoyd.

The nomber of them that wer thair, I sall discriue them as I can, My Lord I mene the maister Mair, The Prouest ane maist prudent man: With the haill counsall of the toun Ilkane cled in a veluet goun.

That company, quha did espy, The mater wes magnificall, The vther Burgissis forby, Wer cled in thair pontificall: Presenting them before hir face, Offring thair seruice to hir grace.

Dout my dull sensis dois desaue, With mair magnificence I mene, Gif that the Persians did resaue, King DARIVS wife that nobill Queene:

Quhen sche did enter with renown, In Tipatra that nobill town.

O Edinburghe now will I sing, Thy prais quhilk the perteins of richt, Thou hes bene ay trewe to thy King, In doing seruice day and nicht: Quhen that his grace did haif ado, And in the fields ay formest to.

Not sparing for to spend thair blud, Into thair breists thay bure sic loue, I say no more, so I conclud, Bot I beseik the God aboue: Gif that it be his godly will, That thy estait may fluris still.

FINIS.

BE HONOR I LEVE.