# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 6

The Prophecy of Waldhave.
UPON Lowdon Law alone as I lay, Looking to the Lennox, as me lief thought, The firſt morning of May, medicine to ſeek, For malice and melody, that moved me fore. I lyed down, and leaned me, and lifted well ſleep, Upon the height of a hill where the voice bade. And as I lyed down, and hielded mine eyes, So hears I an horſe voice, and an hie cry, That bade me Waldhave beware, and me well keep, For fear of a wild beaſt, that his weird dries. Therewith I ſtoniſh, and stood, and ſtart on my feet And fained me on every ſide, as the voice bade. Then I looked but let, lightly me frae. And ſaw an hirſal on hie, of hares together, An hundred I hope, well wholly there was: Then of foxes, a flock fully five ſcore: All following on a fierce beaſt that rudly them chas'd, That was all wood through weird woeful to ſee. Right ragged and rent, and riven in pieces: A battle with baſtoun, he bare on his broad luſes, Like a brimful beirn, battle to make. He thought to effray, and them faſt preſſed, ​As he in hold would them ſang, firm at his will, But when he ſaw me with fight, ſoon he them left; And when he ſhundered away, no more I them ſaw: Then groaning grimly, he girt to me ſoon, As Gerrert the great ſhrew had done for the nonce, He ſtruck faſt with his ſtaff, and ſtoniſht me sore; But I keeped him by Chriſt, with a keen weapon, That was my ſword, till I ſwat, ſwinging me about And a buckler well broad, that keeped me beſt. So freſhly he forced me meat for to make, That he ſhundered on the fold, and his feet ſnappered, The baſtoan on the bent sore braſed him frae, And I but laid on his breaſt, bowned myſelf; All griffling on the ground graciouſly held, Through grace of the great God, that had me warn'd He yelped, he yalmered, and youled loud, And ſtruggled ſaft his ſtrength, and ſtruck upon loft, But I held him by the hair as mine hap was, And height to hurt him full ſore, but he him ſtill held: And conjured him by Chriſt, and his mother dear, That he should ſhow me to his kith and kin: But long was it that he lay ere he ſpake might, And at the laſt he can leave, and lightly he ſaid, Waldhave, wilt thou, that well hath thee happened; Thou thought not that thy weird this wrought ſhould be, But let me riſe of this race, and reſt thee beſide; And I ſhall readily, without riot, thee marvels tell: Great grace halt thou gotten, that got me this time. I shall grieve thee no more, ſo is thy grace turned: But yet I truſted not his tale, while he his truth gave By the law and the lead, that he lived on, That I ſure should be, and ſafe, and none ill betide: Then let him I riſe, and leaned on his shoulder, And great marvel of his face, and his form had; He was formed like a freik all his four quarters: And then his chin and his face haired ſo thick, With hair growing ſo grim, fearful to ſee. I frained at him foremoſt, the fear of himſelf, Why his figure and his face was ſo fierce made? If wearie of the world? or what him ailed? He girmed, he gaſped, and groaned full sore, Wept with his grey eyes, and ſuddenly he ſaid, "Good game all the way, is as God will: For he is grieved through my guilt, and I no grace ſerved, ​My wild wanton will, and my miſdeeds, I may know of all woe, and my weird alas! Becauſe of my ſin, that I ſerved ever. Hath his ſorrow and this ſight ſent unto me, By trouble of my kin, that I am of come, Hath me turned into this care, and careful me made; That I have no hope of help ſo help me our Lord, While he that put me in grief once grace ſend, Frain thou no further of my foot likes. Of other works, as I wate, aſk if thou likes: Thine ettling thou aſk may, for anſwer I shall, In woods and wilderneſs, where my way lies, That I heark'ned and heard; I height to thee to ſay, Then frowned I fiercely of this frivole world: What to be of war, if he wiſt ought? Or who should weild us in this world, that ſorrow drees To give us of good will, and get us to peace? If there is fruits in this world, that ſo much worth is? Should have fuſion on force, and any fair after? And then he looked to the ground, and wept all a while And he groaned for grief, weeping he ſaid, Much anger and evil hath this iſle choſen All through o'greed and theft, and Elvines Knight, Brutas thy bairntime has much bail choſen, Since firſt in Britain to leind thou was brought; Sickneſs and ſorrow, and soreneſs ſet with syth, When thou ſembled to the ſea, under sail ſound: Noraway hath neddered them, and to need brought: That hath newed their names, and named themſelves, English that are eaſtfood, and Edryons bairns, But all the anger that they make, their own shall be, That Weſtmoorland, woeful may thee betide, For thou with war and thy wrong bairns, When thou mels with the Mers and mixed with the ſame Much malice and miſchief thou made for thyſelf. Bairns and banners thou brought upon loft, With burning and bail hath wrought ſorrow; Carliſle thy captains hath much woe wrought: Thou shalt compelled be with care, thou thinks it but little, Thou shalt thy gates yarn, thou yarns not thereafter; Thou shalt yalmur and yell that all York shall it hear: Then the town shall be tint trow thou not elſe; Thy tops and thy turnats tumbled to the ground, No falſe fortune so fell has thee at feed, ​That force shall fail thee when thou beſt thinkeſt, And lipens on London to lead thee for ever, On Linton and Lindſay, and Lancaſter shires There shall a lion be lowſed that a lord is, Both of London and Lorn, as the law will He shall allege to be liege, and the law make: Leave nought upon loft, but waſte them for ever. All the ſtrengths of the coaſt, and caſtles every one, He ſhall incloſe them to his crown, and over them come Burgane, Bamburgh, as he by rides, And Butlings beat it down and burn it for ever. The water ſhall welcome him, and the waves of the ſea, While he have won on hie all that he thinks Through his truth upon Tweed, ſhall be turned after, If who will count the time of the year If even eeking the hour, and the day come, And angred for evermore: this old men deviſes, Needleſs thou Norham for nought that thou lookeſt, There is a neker, in the north thy neſt ſhall deſtroy: Thou ſhalt be waſted of works for thy wrong deeds, There ſhall no warrand thee weir that thou winks after: A black bear, and a brock, and a bull head, A boar whelp, with a brock, and a broad head. Shall them bound in their hour & bear them down forſuth And build them up their walls, as they beſt think. Red Roxburgh thy role, and reddy thee bown, Thy root is now raiſed up and rotten in ſunder: Three ravens and a rook hall on thy rock ſit, An rolp rudely ſhall they, that Rome ſhall it hear. From Roſs to Roſdeen was that right may be, Reddy the Reſcours, thou reſts no more, For it is but reaſon the rights and rents be gathered. What jangleſt thou Jedburgh? thou jags for nought, There ſhall a guileful groom dwell thee within, The tower that truſts in, as the truth is, Shall be traced with a trace, trow thou none other: The new caſtle is keen, keeped full well, There to take ye good heed, nor come not therein: A hird with a hand-bow ſhall the hird keep, Hie in an holine, and in a haer-wood, Both his horns ſhall he hang, and haſt him therewith. Dreſs thee now Dumbar, and do for the time, Thou haſt a dread for the drake, that the drown would, Thine heels are ſo hard ſet, with halmers of ſteel, ​Well heavy therefore, hold the full ſtill. The new work that is next on the north ſtream, Shall caſt a blink to the baſs, when the blink ſhines, Be it guided with wit, and will be no waſter, There ſhall no waſter it weild, nor none evil doer. Hailes, hold thee at home, ſo hold I it beſt, For hap thou to Haildown, thou art hurt for ever: There is an Hurchen in an hurst, in Heriot moor, Hath marred the myrſnap in Minto Craigs: That hath manſions moved maugre of his teeth. Dirlton and Dalkeith, they dread no more alſo, But the down and the dow that the drake leads: The dragon they drown would but deviſe of France, Doth for them doughtly, as he hath done ever: Edinburgh that old craig is angered full fore, For the awe of the erne that in the eaſt builds, He hath a falcon's feire, that in far lands, Both his feddering and his flight, and his flight gathered Needleſs they noy them, that is for nought; For they never in the neſt ſhall nouriſh their birds. Striveling that strait place, a ſtrength of the land, Why with Strabrock and Strathern ſtrives thou to yarn, When Strabogie ſhall deſtroy all the ſtraiberries; The ſtrands of Strabrock ſhall ſtream them with blood, Three ſtorks in a ſtall ſhall ſtand them before, Stuffed all is ſteel weed, all on horſe-back. Their ſtoutneſs ſhall ſhine and ſtonish themſelves, For ſtroaks fo ſtrive ſhall ſtent them within. Do now Dumbarton, while thy days laſt; A wretched cloud in the weſt, as elders thee call: Bear thee well to Bothwell, and build it up all. Then Crawford and Cumnuck, with clean men of arms, Let not light the Lois leap out of town: For thou art lord of the lands, and a new Albion king, To Dowlas now do well, and it dear bold: For Dowlas the doughty may endure well, Deal the beſt of the lands, that longeth thee to, Feed them with fairneſs, and with fair words, Fy on the fellowſhip that hath a falſe end. Captive and curſt men are cumbered for ever. There may no captive by Chriſt this kindred defend, Laughty and largeneſs, are two love things, He that his life gave, loves them well. Knights and chriſten men there to heed take: ​Caſt the curſt men in care, but they to Chriſt turn, Think on Dumbarton the bold in old Birns time, That thou art but a beeld, and in that land chief, Thou ſhalt take heed to this token that I shall thee tell, Believe it as truly as it were written: When Lowmond law shall its leave take From the land of Lennox, and leave it forever; Leap lightly with loup, look thee about, And mantle all the craig with a tower wall, With barges and billengers to rush at the gates, That both fish and fowl that on flight goes, Be flitted up freshly, and fair them within, Then is Dumbarton burnt all to powder, And all in a cloud: the war ended for ever. And if ye fall of this freit after 13 years. Yeair ye yaiply, and yairn ye no more. The caſtle of Carrick, that on a craig ſtands, Shall try upon Cumnock for a true neſt; That into Clydſdale coaſt clevers full faſt, In an holine ſo hie by an elf buſk. Then shall the Galloway grooms get on their mares. Three tods and terſel shall tene all the woods, From Tynmouth to Tultie, and be tole free: But a goſehalk of growth shall grieve him then, And get on a gray mare, that in graſs reſts. In a gow of Gowrie by a gray ſtone, He shall tulie both the tods, and the tub alſo, And with the teind that is taken, turn into France. Two wethers and a wolf shall the field make, Betwixt a yow and a lamb that leads the flock, Before butler the bargane shall begine; All it is bootleſs his bags he ript. Then shall the yle of Royfay be rank full of ſide bushes, Then each man rues them, for rueth of his heart, That would rend from the rood, and no reſt thole. A captive in a craig shall a tower build, And cry to Craig-Fergus the grawdone is ever For a book in but, as a bull horn, Bound with a bugle blow when he likes, A proud pown in a preis lordly shall light: With plots and pillidooes pulled in the crown, Plain power of the Pope muſt the pown have, To pluck and to punish, and part him about, A plot shall partly appeal him again ​For his part of the pelf, and the pown wrong. There shall much ſorrow and ſtrife ſtir them once, That shall the Sterlings trouble, that ſtirs with wings: An hare with an Hurchen and the hind calf. Shall hie them in holy land hold them therein While a grey hound them grype, on the Greek ſea, And go with them grievouſly, where him leif likes; There shall no gaming them glee, while the grey hound Gryp the grey hound, and grieve him full sore, And buffet him bitterly, then bite him with war. Go muſing upon Merling, more if thou wilt, For I mean for no more, man at this time. Then I ſtudied ſtood and him held: Then he could ſturdily ſtir with his broad eyes; But I couth further this fraine, for his father's ſoul? If ever Frieck on this fold formed himſelf, That he should witter me ſome way if he wiſt ought What of this world and this war should after betide; Then as a lyon he looked me on, Like as he leep would and rent me in ſunder. He ſaid, weens thou Waldhave, I win into heaven That I may in this world all my wit have? No, thou getſt that of God, their gains none other, To whom he gives the grace they are of good life? But this tale that I tell you, ye shall truſt it well. It is tratling, but truth, the ſooth thee to ſay, I moved into my mind how the ſooth ſtands; Muſe on as thou may, the matter thou fraines, Thou ſins if thou frienes fraind farther I tell, I have enough Waldhave my way for to make; Here in wilderneſs I dwell, my weird for to dree.