The Poems of William Dunbar/Volume 2/Ballad of Kynd Kittok
BALLAD OF KYND KITTOK.
My Gudame wes a gay wife, bot scho wes rycht gend,
Scho duelt furth fer in to France, apon Falkland fell;
Thay callit her Kynd Kittok, quha sa hir weill kend:
Scho wes like a caldrone cruke cler under kell;
Thay threpit that scho deit of thrist, and maid a gud end. 5
Efter hir dede, scho dredit nought in hevin for to duell;
And sa to hevin the hieway dredless scho wend,
Yit scho wanderit, and yeid by to ane elriche well.
Scho met thar, as I wene,
Ane ask rydand on a snaill, 10
And cryit, Ourtane fallow, haill!
And raid ane inche behind the taill,
Quhill it wes neir evin.
Sua scho had hap to be horsit to hir herbry,
Att ane ailhous neir hevin, it nyghttit thaim thare; 15
Scho deit of thrist in this warld, that gert hir be so dry,
Scho nevir eit, bot drank our mesur and mair.
Scho slepit quhill the morne at none, and rais airly;
And to the yettis of hevin fast can the wife fair,
And by Sanct Petir, in at the yett, scho stall prevely: 20
[He] lukit and saw hir lattin in, and lewch his hert sair.
And thar, yeris seven
Scho levit a gud life,
And wes our Ledyis hen wyfe;
And held Sanct Petir at stryfe, 25
Ay quhill scho wes in hevin.
Scho lukit out on a day, and thoght ryght lang
To sé the ailhous beside, in till an evill hour;
And out of hevin the hie gait couth the wyfe gang
For to get hir ane fresche drink, the aill of hevin wes sour. 30
Scho come againe to hevinnis yett, quhen that the bell rang,
Sanct Petir hit hir with a club, quhill a gret clour
Rais in hir heid, becaus the wyfe yeid wrang.
Than to the ailhous agane scho ran, the pycharis to pour,
And for to brew, and baik. 35
Freindis, I pray you hertfully,
Gif ye be thristy or dry,
Drink with my Gudame, as ye ga by,
Anys for my saik.