%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The SPEECH of a FIFE LAIRD / Newly come from the Grave. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1690-1690 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/23/2012 32200

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

S121778 WHat Accident, what strange Mishap / Awakes me from my Heav'nly Nap? Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 59724 The SPEECH of a FIFE LAIRD / Newly come from the Grave. The SPEECH of a FIFE LAIRD Newly come from the Grave. The SPEECH of a FIFE LAIRD Newly come from the Grave. 1690-1690

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WHat Accident, what strange Mishap Awakes me from my Heavnly Nap? What Sprit? What God-head by the lave, Hath raisd my Body from the Grave? It is a hundred Years almost, Since I was burid in the Dust, And now I think that I am living, Or else, but doubt, my Brains are raving; Yet do I feel (while as I study) The Faculties of all my Body: I Taste, I Smell, I Touch, I Hear, I find my Sight exceeding clear: Then Im alive, yea sure I am, I know it by my Corpral Frame: But in what part where I can be, My wavring Brains yet torture me. Once I was called a great Fife Laird, I dwelt not far from the Hall-yard: But who enjoys my Land and Pleugh, My Castle, and my fine Coal-heugh: I can find out no living Man, Can tell me this, do what I can Yet if my Memry serve me well, This is the Shire where I did dwell; This is the Part where I was born: For so beneath me stands Kinghorn: And thereabout the Lowmond Hill Stands as it stood yet ever still. There is Bruntisland, Aberdore, I see Fifes Coast along the Shore, Yet I am right, and for my Life, This is my native Country Fife, O! but tis long and many a Year, Since last my Feet did travel here. I find great Change in old Lairds Places, I know the Ground, but not the Faces, Where shall I turn me first about, For my Acquaintance is worn out? O! this is strange, that evn in Fife, I do know neither Man nor Wife; No Earl, no Lord, no Laird, no People, But Lesly and the Mark Inch-Steeple, Old Noble Weems, and that is all, I think enjoy their Fathers Hall. For from Dumfermling to Fife-ness I do know none that doth possess His Grandsires Castles and his Towrs: All is away that once was ours. Im full of Wrath, I scorn to tarrie, I know them no more than the Fairie: But I admire and marvel strange What is the Cause of this great Change. I hear a murmuring Report, Passing among the Common Sort: For some say this, and some say that, And others tell, I know not what: Some say the Fife Lairds ever rues, Since they began to take the Lews: That Bargain first did brew their Bale, As tell the honest Men of Creil. Some do ascribe their Supplantation, Unto the Lawyers Congregation. No, but this is a false Suppose: For all things wyts that well not goes. Be what it will, there is some Source Hath bred this universal Curse; This Transmigration and Earthquake, That causd the Lairds of Fife to break.
He that enthrones a Shepherdling, He that dethrones a potent King; And he that makes a Cotter Laird, The Barons Bairns to delve a Yard: Almighty, He that shakes the Mountains, And brings great Rivers from small Fountains It is the Power of his Hand, That makes both Lords and Lairds have Land. Yet there, may be, as all Men knaws An Evident and well seen Cause, A publick and a common Evil, That made the meikle Master Devil To cast his Club all Fife throughout, And lent each Laird a deadly Rout. Mark then, Ill tell you, how it was, What way this Wonder came to pass: It sets me best the Truth to Pen, Because I fear no Mortal Men. When I was born at Middle-yard weight, There was no word of Laird or Knight, The greatest Stiles of Honour then, Was to be titled the Good-Man. But changing Time hath changd the Case, And puts a Laird in th Good-mans place. For Why? my Gossip Good-man John, And honest James, whom I think on; When we did meet whiles at the Hawking, We usd no Cringes but Hands shaking, No Bowing, Shouldring, Gambo-scraping, No French Whistling, or Dutch gaping. We had no Garments in our Land, But what were spun by th Gooodwifes hand: No Drap de-berry, Cloaths of seal: No Stuffs ingraind in Cocheneel, No Plush, no Tissue, Cramosie; No China, Turky Taffety; No proud Pyropus, Paragon, Or Chackarally, there was none, No Figurata, or Water-chamblet: No Bishop-satine, or Silk-chamblet, No Cloth of Gold, or Bever-hats, We cared no more for, than the Cats: No windy flourishd flying Feathers, No sweet permusted shambo Leathers, No Hilt or Crampet richly hatched: A Lance, a Sword in hand we snatched. Such base and B[o]yish Vanities, Did not beseem our Dignities: We were all ready and compleat, Stout for our Friends, on Horse or Feet, True to our Prince to shed our Blood, For Kirk, and for our Common Good. Such Men we were, it is well known, As in our Chronicles are shown. This made [?] dwell into our Land, And our Po[st]erity to stand. But when [th]e young Laird became vain, And went away to France and Spain, Rome raking, wandring here and there: O! then became our bootless Care: Pride puft him up, because he was Far traveld and returnd an Ass. Then must the Laird, the Good-mans Oye, Be Knighted streight; and make convoy, Coachd through the Streets with Horses four, Foot-grooms Pasmented oer and oer. Himself cut out and slasht so wide, Evn his whole shirt his Skin doth hide.
Gowpherd, Gratnizied Cloaks rare pointed, Embroiderd, lacd, with Boots disjointed, A Belt embost with Gold and Purle: False Hair made craftily to curle: Side Breeks be buttond oer the Garters, Was neer the like seen in our Quarters. Tobacco and Wine Frontinack, Potato-Pasties, Spanish Sack, Such uncouth Food, such Meat and Drink, Could never in our Stomachs sink: Then must the Grandson swear and swagger And show himself the bravest Bragger, A Bon-companion and a Drinker, A delicate and dainty Ginker. So is seen ont. These foolish Jigs, Hath causd his Worship fell his Rigs. My Lady, as she is a Woman, Is born a Helper to undo Man, Her Ladyship must have a share, For she is Play-maker and mair; For she invents a thousand Toys, That House and Hold and all destroys, As Scarfs, Shephroas, Tuffs, and Rings, Fairdings, Facings, and Powderings Rebats, Ribands, Bands, and Ruffs, Lapbends, Shagbands, Cuffs and Muffs, Folding outlays, Pearling sprigs, Atrys, Vardigals, Periwigs: Hats, Hoods, Wires and also Kells, Washing-balls, and perfuming Smels: French-gows cut out and double banded Jet Rings to make her pleasant handed: A Fan, a Feather, Bracelets, Gloves, All new come-busks she dearly loves: For such trim bony Baby-clouts, Still on the Laird she greets and shouts: Which made the Laird take up more Gear, Than all the Lands or Rigs could bear. These are the Emblems, that declares The Merchants thriftless needless wares: The Tailors curious Vanitie, My Ladys Prodigalitie. This is the Truth which I discover: I do not care for Feid or Favour; For what I was, yet still I am, An honest, plain, true dealing Man; And if these Words of mine would mend them I care not by, though I offend them. Here is the Cause most plainly shown, That have our Country overthrown. Tis said of old, that others Harms, Is oftentimes the wise Mans Arms: And he is thought most wise of all, That learns Good from his Neighbours Fall: It grieves my Heart to see this Age, I cannot stay to act more Stage: I will ingrave me in the Ground, And rest there till the Trumpet sound; And if I have said ought astray, Which may a Messons Mind dismay, I do appeal before the Throne Of the great Powers three in one: The Supream Soveraignity, The Parliament of veritie. And if you think my Words offends, Ye must be there, Is make amends.
FINIS.