The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 2

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search

The Prophecies of Beid.

BETWIXT the chief of ſummer and ſaid winter,
Before the heat of harveſt happen ſhall a war,
That Europe's lands earneſtly ſhall be wrought,
And earneſt envy ſhall laſt but a while:
But the lion with his luſty flowers,
From harm of heat ſhall hap him with leaves,
Then ſpeed and ſpread him to Spain into winter,
All flowers in the Forth ſhall follow him on.
Callender ſhall cry, Cornwall the noble,
And inherit all Albany at his will,
Envy to all Alliers anon to be worken,
Old Almoscycains, and Albany the ſame,
Shall recover caſtles and towers out of Saxons' hands,
When Britoners ſhall bear them with brands of ſteel,
There ſhall no baſtard blood bide in theſe lands,
Albanus that time king of the earth;
Albanactus king and lord of the land,
To the lilly ſhall lean, and love none other:
The lion, leader of all beaſts,
Shall lean to the lilly and live him with:
And ſhall ſtir him to ſtrive by the ſtream of Humber,
The ſtepſon of the lion ſturdily of themſelves,
They ſhall ſtart up with ſtrife and ſtir all at once,
And ſtrike down the ſtepſons, and deſtroy them for ever,
Neither love they the lilly nor the lion:
But the lilly ſhall looſe when they leaſt wean:
Then all ſhall happen to the hart, happen as it may,
And the tail of ſummer toward the harveſt,
Be then the lilly ſhall be looſed when they leaſt think,
Then clear king's blood ſhall quake for fear of death,
For Churls ſhall chop off heads of their chief beirns,
And carf of the crowns that Chriſt hath anointed,
All this muſt deſtiny drive to an end.
An eagle of the eaſt, a vent'rous beaſt,
Shall be glad flowers to fang in the firſt ſeaſon,
And ſtir to the ſtepſon, and ſtrike them together.
Bind bands brukle and hail to begin:
For he would garlands get of theſe fair flowers,
That in ſummer ſeaſon ſpreads ſo fair,
But ſoon ſhall fail the freit that the fool thinks,
A fell northern flaw ſhall fade him for ever.
Hereafter on either ſide ſorrow ſhall riſe,
The barges of clear barons down ſhall be ſunken
Seculars ſhall fa' in ſpiritual ſeats,
Occupying offices anointed as they were,
The true title to purchaſe that the truth holds,
They ſhall torment them with torments a new.
Then barons ſhall buſk on their beſt wiſe,
Attour the fields, to sair with a fey fox bird;
Turn firſt to Chriſt with tod's-wyles,
But ſoon the tod ſhall be tint, and in time loſed,
They ſhall eſcape ſuch a check eſchew whoſo may.
Then ſhall the nobleſt eſcape with the felles,
Yet ſhall the one fox in the field eſcape;
The falcon ſhall be looſed in his wings.
Whoſo truſt not this tale, nor the term knows,
Let him on Merling mean, and his merry words,
As true Thomas told in his time after,
At Standford ſhall he be ſeen example of their deeds,
Yet it muſt overthrow the tod in his buſk,
Buſk thee now Berwick with thy broad walls,
Thou ſhalt incline to the king that is thy kind lord:
As ſaint Beid of that burgh, in his book ſays
Thou ſhalt with the lion lean, and liſten for ever;
Though thou be ſubject to Saxons, ſorrow thou not,
Thou ſhalt be looſed at laſt, believe thou in Chriſt,
And every language ſhall have his lordſhip to brook:
It was not lost but lent for little time:
Bold Berwick be blyth with thy broad walls,
Thou ſhalt to the lion ſtoop as Lord of his own;
Let never the libbert lipen longer a day,
In bold Britain to brook a foot-broad of earth,
Whoſo doubts on this deed or denies hereon,
I do them well to know the date is deviſed;
Take the foremoſt of middle-earth, and mark by thyſelf,
With four creſcents, cloſed together,
Then of the lion, the longeſt ſee thou chooſe;
Looſe not the lionneſs, let her lie ſtill.
If thou caſt through caſe the courſe of the heaven,
Take Saint Andrew's Croſs thriſe;
Keep well theſe teachments as clarks have told,
Thus begins date, the deem as thou likes,
Thou ſhalt not ceaſe in that feat, aſſumed in the text,
Or the height of the heat neareſt the winter,
No tail of the tearm will I thee tell.
But chaſtity the chieſtain of their chief wrongs,
Or in the height of the harveſt, heard of thyſelf,
Shall wicked weird undo, and to right,
And this ere I wiſt, I awakened anon,
Though I write as it was, wist I it not.