Quhen to the Soutar he did cum, Of all fic Words he was quyte dum, Sae fair he was agast.

In Heart he tuke fae great a Scunder, A Rak of Farts lyke ony Thunder, Flew frae him Blaft for Blaft.

IV.

THE Soutar to the Feild him drest,
He was convoyid out of the Well,
As an Deffender stout.

Suppose he had nae lusty Varlet,
He had full mony a loufy Harlot,
Round ryding him about.

His Banner was of barkit Hyd,
Quherin Saint Girnega did glyd,

Before that Rebald Rout:

Full Soutar lyke he was of Laits;
For ay betwish his Harnes Plaits,

The Uly burstit out,

R 4

V.

QUHEN on the Tailzior he did luke,
His Heart a litle Dwaming tuke,
He micht not right upfit,

Into his Stommok was fic a Steir,
Of all his Denner quhilk he coft deir,
His Breaft held Deil a Bit:

To comfort him or he raid furder,

The Deil of Knichthude gaif him Order, Fou fair fyne did he fpit;

And he about the Devils Neck,

Did fpew again a Quart of Blek,

Thus knichtly he him quit.

VI.

THEN Fourty Times the Feynd cryd, Fy The Soutar richt afearedly,

Unto the Feild he focht:

Quhen he were ferved with their Speirs,

Folk had a Feil be their Effeirs,

Their Hearts were baith on Flocht,

จ

They fpurd their Horfe on either Syde,

Syne they owtowre the Grund coud glyd, And them togither brocht.

The Tailzior that was nocht weil fitten,

He left his Sadle all befhitten,

And to the Grund he focht.

VII.

His Harnes brak and made a Brattle,
The Soutars Horfs lap with a Ratle,
And round about coud reil :

The Beist that frayed was richt evil,

Ran with the Soutar to the Devil,

Him he rewardit weil :

Sumthing frae hin the Feynd efhewd,
He wont again to bein befpewd,
So ftern he was in Steil:

He thocht again he wald debate him,
He turad his Erfe, and all bedret him

Ein quyte frae Neck to heil.

VIII.

He lowfit it aff with fic a Reird;

He dang baith Horfe and Man till Eard,
He fartit with fic Feir.

Now half I quit thee quoth Mahoun,
Thir new made Knichts lay baith in Swoun,
And did all Arms mentweir;

The Deil gart them to Dungeon dryve,
And them of Knichthude coud depryve,
Difcharging them of Weir,

And made them Harlots baith for evir,
Quhilk ftill to keip they had far levir
Nor ony arms to beir.

IX.

I had mair of their Warks written,
Had not the Soutar bein beshitten,

With Belials Erfs unblift.

But that fae gude a Bourd methocht,
Sic Solace to my Heart it brocht,

For Lauchter neir I brift:

Quherthrow. I wakenit frae my Trance,

To put this in Rememberance,

Micht no Man me resist;

For this faid Justing it befell,
Before Mahoun the Air of Hell,
Now trew this gif ze lift.

Here' ends the Soutar and the Tailziors War,
Made be the noble Poct W. DUNBAR.

B

Follows ane

Amends made to the forefaid
Knichts of the Birs and Thumble;
In Cafe his Foke should them provok
Owr fair to girn and grumble.

I.

ETWISHT the Twelt Hour and Elevin,

I dreamd an Angel came frae Heaven,

With Pleafand Stevin fayand on hie,
Tailziors and Soutars blift be ze.