Wallace: Book Iii Poem by Blind Hary

In Ioyows Iulii, quhen the flouris suete,
Degesteable engenered throu the heet,
Baith erbe and froyte, busk and bewis, braid
Haboundandlye in euiry slonk and slaid;
Als bestiall thar rycht cours till endur
Weyle helpyt ar be wyrkyn off natur,
On fute and weynge ascendand to the hycht,
Conserwed weill be the makar of mycht;
Fyscheis in flude refeckit realye
Till mannys fude the warld suld occupye;
Bot Scotland sa was waistit mony day,
Throw wer sic skaith at labour was away.
Wictaill worth scant or August could apper,
Throu all the land that fude was hapnyt der.
Bot Inglismen, that Riches wantyt nayne,
Be caryage brocht thar wictaill full gud wayne,
Stuffit housis with wyn and gud wernage,
Demaynde this land as thar awne heretage.
The kynryk haile thai rewllyt at thar will.
Messyngeris than sic tithingis brocht thaim till
And tald Persye that Wallace leffand war,
Off his eschaip fra thar presoune in Ayr.
Thai trowit rycht weill he passit was that steid,
For Longcastell and his twa men war deid.
Thai waryit the chance that Wallace so was past.
In Ilka part thai war gretlye agast
Throw prophesye that thai had herd befor.
Lord Persye said, 'Quhat nedis wordis mor?
Bot he be cest he sall do gret merwaill.
It war the best for king Eduuardis awaill
Mycht he him get to be his steidfast man,
For gold or land; his conquest mycht lest than.
Me think beforce he may nocht gottyn be.
Wysmen the suth be his eschaip may se.'
Thus deyme thai him in mony diuers cas.
We leiff thaim her and spek furth off Wallas.
In Rycardtoun he wald no langar byde
For freindis consaill nor thing that mycht betide;
And quhen thai saw that it awaillit nocht,
His purpos was to wenge him at he mocht
On Sothron blud quhilk has his eldris slayne,
Thai latt him wyrk his awn will in-to playne.
Schir Richart had thre sonnys as I yow tald,
Adam, Rychart and Symont, that was bald.
Adam eldest was growand in curage,
Forthward, rycht fayr, xviii yer of age,
Large off persone, bathe wis, worthi and wicht.
Gude king Robert in his tyme maid him knycht.
Lang tyme eft in Brucis weris he baid,
On Inglismen mone gud Iorne maid.
This gud squier with Wallace bound to ryd,
And Robert Boid quhilk wald no langar bide
Undir thrillage of Segis of Ingland.
To that fals king he had neuir maid band.
Kneland was thar, ner cusyhg to Wallace,
Syne baid with him in mony peralous place,
And Eduuard Litill his sistir sone so der.
Full weill graithit in-till thar armour cler,
Wyth thar serwandis fra Ricardtoun thai raid
To Mawchtlyne mur and schort tyme thar abaid,
For freindis thaim tauld, was bound wndir trewage,
That Fenweik was for Perseys caryage:
With-in schort tyme he will bryng it till Ayr
Out of Carleile; he had resawyt it thair.
That plesyt Wallace in his hart gretumlye.
Wytt yhe, thai war a full glaid cumpanye.
Towart Lowdoun thai bownyt thaim to ride
And in a schaw a litill thar besyde
Thai lugyt thaim, for it was nere the nycht,
To wache the way als besyly as thai mycht.
A trew Scot quhilk hosteler hous thair held
Wndir Lowdoun, as myn autor me teld,
He saw thar come, syne went to thaim in hye.
Baithe meite and drynk he brocht full prewalye
And to thaim tald the cariage in-to playn.
Thair for-rydar was past till Ayr agayne,
Left thaim to cum with pouer of gret waille.
Thai trowit be than thai war in Awendaille.
Wallace than said, 'We will nocht soiorne her,
Nor change no weid bot our ilk dayis ger.'
At Corssencon the gait was spilt that tide,
Forthi that way behowid thaim for to ride.
Ay fra the tyme that he of presoune four
Gude souir weide dayly on him he wour;
Gude lycht harnes fra that tyme wsyt he euir,
For sodeyn stryff fra it he wald nocht seuir.
A habergione undir his goune he war,
A steylle capleyne in his bonet but mar,
And glowis of plait in claith war couerit weill,
In his doublet a clos coler off steyle.
His face he kepit, for it was euir bar,
With his twa handis the quhilk full worthi war.
In-to his weid and he come in a thrang
Was na man than on fute mycht with him gang.
So growane in pith, off pouer stark and stur,
His terryble dyntis war awfull till endur.
Thai trastyt mar in Wallace him allane
Than in a hundreth mycht be off Ingland tane.
The worthi Scottis maid thar no soiornying,
To Lowdoun hill past in the gray dawyng,
Dewysyt the place and putt thar hors thaim fra
And thocht to wyn or neuir thin to ga;
Send twa skowrrouris to wesy weyll the playne,
Bot thai rycht sone raturnde in agayne,
To Wallace tald that thai war cummand fast.
Than thai to grounde all kneland at the last,
With humyll hartis prayit with all thar mycht
To god abowne, to help thaim in thar rycht.
Than graithit thai thaim till harnes hastely.
Thar sonyeit nane of that gud chewalrye.
Than Wallace said, 'Her was my fadir slayne,
My brothir als, quhilk dois me mekill payne;
So sall my selff, or wengit be but dreid.
The traytour is her, causer was off that deid.'
Than hecht thai all to bide with hartlye will.
Be that the power was takand Lowdoun hill.
The knycht Fenweik, conwoide the caryage,
He had on Scottis maid mony schrewide wiage.
The sone was rysyne our landis schenand brycht.
The Inglismen so thai come to the hycht
Ner thaim he raid and sone the Scottis saw.
He tald his men and said to thaim on raw,
'Yhonne is Wallace that chapit our presoune.
He sall agayne and be drawyn throu the toune.
His hede mycht mar, I wait weill, ples the king
Than gold or land or ony warldly thing.'
He gart serwandis bide with the cariage still.
Thai thocht to dawntyt the Scottis at thar will.
Nyne scor he led in harnes burnyst brycht,
And fyfty was with Wallace in the rycht.
Unraboytit the Sothroun was in wer
And fast thai come fell awfull in affer.
A maner dyk off stanys thai had maid
Narrowyt the way, quhar-throuch thai thikar raid.
The Scottis on fute tuke the feld thaim befor.
The Sothroun saw; thar curage was the mor.
In prydefull Ire thai thoucht our thaim to ryde,
Bot othir-wys it hapnyt in that tide.
On athir side to-giddyr fast thai glaid.
The Scottis on fute gret rowme about thaim maide,
With ponyeand speris throuch platis prest of steylle.
The Inglismen that thocht to weng thaim weylle
The harnest hors about thaim rudely raide,
That with wnes wpone thar feit thai baid.
Wallace the formast in the birny bar.
The grounden sper throuch-out his body schar.
The schafft to-schonkit off the fruschand tre.
Dewoydyde sone sen na better mycht be,
Drew suerdis syne bathe hewy scharp and lang.
On athyr syd full cruelly thai dang,
Fechtand at anys in-to that felloune dout.
Than Inglismen enverounid thaim about,
Beforce etlyt throuch-out thaim for to ryde.
The Scottis on fute that baldly couth abyde
With suerdis schar throuch habergeons full gude.
Upon the flouris schot the schonkan blude
Fra hors and men throw harnes burnyst beyne.
A sayr sailye forsuth thar mycht be seyne.
Thai traistyt na liff bot the lettir end.
Off sa few folk gret nobilnes was kend,
To-gyddyr baid defendand thaim full fast.
Durst nane seuir quhill the maist pres was past.
The Inglismen that besye was in wer
Befors ordand in sondyr thaim to ber.
Thair cheyff chyftan feryt als fers as fyr
Throw matelent and werray propyr Ire;
On a gret hors in-till his glitterand ger
In fewtir kest a fellone aspre sper:
The knycht Fenweik that cruell was and keyne,
He had at dede off Wallace fadyr beyne
And his brodyr that douchty was and der.
Quhen Wallace saw that fals knycht was so ner
His corage grew in Ire as a lyoune.
Till him he ran and fell frekis bar he doune.
As he glaid by aukwart he couth him ta,
The gud arsone in sondir gart he ga.
Fra the coursour he fell on the fer syd.
With a staff suerd Boyd stekit him that tyde.
Or he was dede the gret pres come so fast
Our him to grounde thai bur Boyde at the last.
Wallace was ner and ratornde agayne
Him to reskew till that he rais off playne,
Wichtly him wor quhill he a suerd had tayne.
Throu-out the stour thir twa in feyr ar gayne.
The ramanand apon thaim folowit fast,
In thar passage fell Sothron maid agast.
Adam Wallace the ayr off Ricardtoun
Straik ane Bewmound a squier of renoun
On the pyssan with his brand burnyst bar.
The thrusande blaid his hals in sonder schayr.
The Inglismen, thocht thar chyftayn was slayne,
Bauldly thai baid as men mekill off mayn.
Reth hors repende rouschede frekis wndyr feit.
The Scottis on fute gert mony lois the suete.
Wicht men lichtyt thaim selff for to defend.
Quhar Wallace come thar deide was litill kend.
The Sothroune part so frusched was that tide
That in the stour thai mycht no langar bide.
Wallace in deide he wrocht so worthely,
The squier Boid and all thar chewalry.
Litill, Kneland, gert off thar ennymys de.
The Inglismen tuk playnly part to fle.
On hors sum-part to strenthis can thame found
To socour thaim, with mony werkand wound.
A hundreth dede in feild was lewyt thar,
And iii yemen that Wallace menyde fer mar;
Twa was off Kyle, and ane of Conyngayme
With Robert Boide, to Wallace com fra hayme.
Four scor fled that chapyt on the south syde.
The Scottis in place that bauldly couth abyde
Spoilyeid the feld, gat gold and othir ger,
Harnes and hors quhilk thai mysteryt in wer.
The Inglis knawis thai gart thar caryage leid
To Clidis forest quhen thai war out off dreid.
Thai band thaim fast with wedeis sad and sar,
On bowand treis hangyt thaim rycht thar.
He sparyt nane that abill was to wer,
Bot wemen and preystis he gart thaim ay forber.
Quhen this was doyne to thar dyner thai went
Off stuff and wyne that god had to thaim sent.
X scor thai wan of hors that cariage bure,
With flour and wyne als mekill as thai mycht fur
And othir stuff that thai off Carleile led.
The Sothron part, out off the field at fled,
With sorow socht to the castell off Ayr
Befor the lord and tauld him off thar cair:
Quhat gud thai lost and quha in field was slayne
Throw wicht Wallace that was mekill off mayne,
And how he had gart all thar serwandis hang.
The Persye said, 'And that squier lest lang
He sall ws exile out off this contre cleyne.
Sa dispitfull in wer was neuir seyne.
In our presoune her last quhen that he was
Our slouthfully our keparis lett him pas.
Thus stuff our-land I fynde may nocht weill be;
We mon ger bryng our wictaill be the se.
Bot los our men, it helpis ws rycht nocht.
Thar kyne may ban that euir we hyddir socht.'
Lat I thaim thus blamand thar sory chance,
And mar to sper of Scottis mennys gouernance.
Quhen Wallace had weyle wenquist into playne
The fals terand that had his fadyr slayne,
His brothyr als quhilk was a gentill knycht,
Othir gud men befor to dede thai dycht,
He gert dewys and prowide thar wictaille,
Baith stuff and hors that was of gret awaille.
To freyndis about richt preuayle thai send;
The ramanand full glaidlye thar thai spend.
In Clydis wode thai soiornyt xxti dayis.
Na Sothren was persawyt in thai wais
Bott he tholyt dede that come in thar danger.
The worde of him walkit baith fer and ner.
Wallace was knawin on lyff, leyffand in playne,
Thocht Inglismen tharoff had mekill payn.
The Erle Persye to Glaskow couth he fair
With wys lordis and held a consell thair.
Quhen thai war mett, weylle ma na x thousand,
Na chyftane was that tyme durst tak on hand
To leide the Range on Wallace to assaill.
He speryt about quhat was the best consaill.
Schir Amar Wallange, a fals traytour strange
In Bothwell duelt and that was thaim amange,
He said, 'My lorde, my consaill will I giff.
Bot ye do it fra scaith ye may nocht scheyff.
Yhe mon tak pes with-out mar tarying,
As for a tyme we may send to the king.'
The Persye said, 'Of our trewis he will nane.
Ane awfull chyftane trewly he is ane.
He will do mair in faith or that he blyne.
Sothroun to sla he thinkis it na syne.'
Schir Amar said, 'Trewis it wordis tak
Quhill eft for him prowisioune we may mak.
I knaw he will do mekill for his kyne.
Gentrys ande trewtht ay restis him within.
His uncle may, schir Ranald, mak this band.
Gyff he will nocht, Racunnys all his land
On-to the tyme that he this werk haiff wrocht.'
Schir Ranald was sone to that consell brocht.
Thai chargyt him to mak Wallace at pes,
Or he suld pas to Londone with-outyn les.
Schir Ranald said, 'Lordis, yhe knaw this weill,
At my commande he will nocht do adeill.
His worthi kyn dispitously ye slew,
In presone syne ner to the dede him threw.
He is at large and will nocht do for me,
Thocht ye tharfor rycht now suld ger me de.'
Schir Amar said, 'Thir lordis sone sall send
On to the king and mak a finall end.
Off his conquest forsuth he will it haiff.
Wallace na thou ma nocht this kynrik saiff.
Mycht Eduuard king get him for gold or land
To be his man, than suld he bruk Scotland.'
The lorde bade ces: 'Thow excedis to that knycht,
Fer mayr be treuth than it is ony rycht.
The wrang conquest our king desiris ay
On hym or us it sall be seyne some day.
Wallace has rycht, bathe force and fair fortoun.
Ye hard how he eschapyt our presoune.'
Thus said that lord, syne prayit schir Ranald fair
To mak this pes: 'Thou schirreff ar of Ayr.
As for a tyme we may awisit be,
Undyr my seylle I sall be bound to the
For Inglismen that thai sall do him nocht,
Nor to no Scottis, les it be on thaim socht.'
Schir Ranald wist he mycht thaim nocht ganestand.
Off lord Persye he has Resauit this band.
Perseys war trew and ay off full gret waill,
Sobyr in pes and cruell in Battaill.
Schir Ranald bownyde upon the morn but baid
Wallace to seke in Clydis forest braid.
So he him fand bownand to his dyner.
Quhen thai had seyne this gud knycht was so ner
Weyle he him knew and tauld thaim quhat he was.
Meruaille he had quhat gart him hiddyr pas,
Maide him gud cheyr of meyttis fresche and fyne.
King Eduuardis self coud nocht get bettyr wyn
Than thai had thar, warnage and wenysoun,
Off bestiall in-to full gret fusioun.
Syn eftir mett he schew thaim of his deide,
How he had beyne in-to so mekill dreid.
'Newo,' he said, 'wyrk part of my consaill.
Tak pes a quhill as for the mair awaill.
Bot thou do so forsuth thou dois gret syne,
For thai ar set till wndo all thi kyn.'
Than Wallace said till gud men him about,
'I will no pes for all this felloune dout
Bot gif it ples bettir to yow than me.'
The squier Boide him ansuerd sobyrle,
'I gif consell, or this gud knycht be slayne,
Tak pes a quhill, suppos it do ws payne.'
So said Adam the ayr of Rycardtoune,
And Kneland als grantyt to thar opynyoun.
With thair consent Wallace this pes has tayn,
As his Eyme wrocht, till x moneth war gayn.
Thar leyff thai tuk with comforde in-to playn,
Sanct Ihone to borch thai suld meyt haille agayn.
Boyde and Kneland past to thar placis hayme,
Adam Wallace to Ricardtoun be nayme,
And Wilyham furth till schir Ranald can ride
And his houshald, in Corsby for to bide.
This pees was cryede in August moneth myld.
Yhet goddis of battaill, furius and wild,
Mars and Iuno, ay dois thar besynes,
Causer of wer, wyrkar of wykitnes,
And Venus als the goddes of luff
Wytht ald Saturn his coursis till appruff.
Thir iiii scansyte of diuers complexioun,
Bataill, debaite, Inwy and destruccioun.
I can nocht deyme for thar malancoly,
Bot Wallace weille coude nocht in Corsby ly.
Hym had leuir in trauaill for to be.
Rycht sar he langyt the toune of Ayr to se.
Schir Ranald past fra hame apon a day.
Fyfteyne he tuk and to the toune went thai,
Couerit his face that no man mycht him knaw.
No-thing him roucht how few ennymyis him saw;
In souir weide disgysit weill war thai.
Ane Inglisman on the gait saw he play
At the scrymmage, a bukler on his hand.
Wallace ner by in falouschipe couth stand.
Lychtly he sperde, 'Quhi, Scot, dar thow nocht preiff?'
Wallace said, 'Ya, sa thow wald gif me leiff.'
'Smyt on,' he said. 'I defy thine accioune.'
Wallace thar-with has tane him on the croune.
Throuch bukler, hand and the harnpan also,
To the schuldyris the scharp suerd gert he go;
Lychtly raturnd till his awne men agayne.
The wemen cryede, 'Our bukler player is slane!'
The man was dede, quhat nedis wordis mair?
Feille men of armys about him semblit thair,
Sewyn scor atanys agayne xvi war sett.
Bot Wallace sone weille with the formest mett,
With Ire and will on the hede has him tayne,
Throuch the brycht helm in sondir bryst the bane.
Ane othir braithly in the breyst he bar;
His burnyst blaid throuch-out the body schar.
Gret rowme he maid; his men war fechtand fast
And mony a growme thai maid full sair agast;
For thai war wicht and weill wsyt in wer
Off Inglismen rycht bauldly doun thai ber.
On thar Enemys gret martirdome thai mak,
Thar hardy chiftane so weill couth wndyrtak.
Quhat Inglisman that baid in-till his gait
Contrar Scotland maid neuir mar debait.
Felle frekis on fold war fellyt wndyr feit;
Off Sothroune blude lay stekit in the streit.
New pouer come fra the castell that tyde.
Than Wallace drede and drew towart a side;
With gude will he wald escheu a suppris,
For he in wer was besy, wicht and wis.
Harnes and hedis he hew in sonderys fast.
Beforce out off the thikest preys thai past.
Wallace raturnyde behynde his men agayne.
At the reskew feile Enemys has he slayne.
His men all samyn he out off perill brocht
Fra his Enymys for all the pouer thai mocht.
To thar horsis thai wan but mair abaide.
For danger syne to Laglyne wode thai raid.
xxti and ix thai left in-to that steide
Off Sothroun men that bertynit war to dede.
The Ramaynand agayne turnyt that tide,
For in the woode thai durst nocht him abyde.
Towart the toune thai drew with all thar mayn,
Cursand the pes thai tuk befor in playne.
The lord Persye in hart was gretlye grewyt.
His men supprisyt agayne to him relewyt,
And feille war dede in-to thar armour cler,
Thre of his kyne that war till him full deir.
Quhen he hard tell of thar gret grewance,
Thar selff was caus of this myschefull chance,
Murnyng he maid, thoucht few Scottis it kend.
A herald than to schir Ranald he send
And tald till him of all that sodeyne cas,
And chargyt him tak souirte of Wallas:
He suld him kepe fra merket, toune, or fair,
Quhar he mycht best be out of thar repair.
The Sothroun wist that it was wicht Wallace
Had thaim ourset in-to that sodand cas.
Thair trewis for this thai wald nocht brek adeill.
Quhen Wallace had this chance eschewit weill,
Vpon the nycht fra Lagleyne hayme he raid.
In chaumeris sone thair residence thai maid.
Vpon the morn quhen that the day was lycht
Witht Wallace furth went schir Ranald the knycht,
Schew him the wryt lord Persie had him sent.
'Deir sone,' he said, 'this war my haile entent,
That thow wald grant, quhill thir trewis war worn,
Na scaith to do till Inglisman that is born,
Bot quhar I pas dayly thou bid with me.'
Wallace ansuerd, 'Gud schir, that may nocht be.
Rycht laith I war, deyr wncle, you to greiff.
I sall do nocht till tyme I tak my leyff,
And warn you als or that I fra you pas.'
His eyme and he thar weill accordyt was.
Wallace with him maid his continuance.
Ilk wicht was blyth to do till him plesance.
In Corsby thus he resyd thaim amang
Thai xvi dayis, suppos him thocht it lang.
Thocht thai mycht ples him as a prince or king
In his mynde yit remanyt ane othir thing:
He saw his Enemys maisteris in this regioune;
Mycht nocht him ples thocht he war king with croune.
Thus leyff I him with his der freyndis still.
Off Inglismen of sum-part spek I will.