edition announced, in a popular and modernised shape, of the poetry of this great old Scottish _Makkar_. THE DANCE OF THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS THROUGH HELL. I. Of Februar' the fifteenth night, Full long before the dayis light, I lay into a trance; And then I saw both Heaven and Hell; Methought among the fiendis fell, Mahoun[1] gart[2] cry a Dance, Of shrewis[3] that were never shrevin,[4] Against the feast of Fastern's even, To make their observance: He bade gallants go graith[5] a guise,[6] And cast up gamounts[7] in the skies, As varlets do in France. II. * * * * * Holy harlottis in hautane[8] wise, Came in with many sundry guise, But yet laugh'd never Mahoun, Till priests came in with bare shaven necks, Then all the fiends laugh'd and made gecks,[9] Black-Belly and Bawsy-Broun.[10] * * * * * III. 'Let's see,' quoth he, 'now who begins:' With that the foul Seven Deadly Sins Began to leap at anis.[11] And first of all in dance was Pride, With hair wyld[12] back, and bonnet on side, Like to make wasty weanis;[13] And round about him, as a wheel, Hang all in rumples to the heel, His kethat[14] for the nanis.[15] Many proud trompour[16] with him tripped, Through scalding fire aye as they skipped, They girn'd[17] with hideous granis.[18] IV. Then Ire came in with sturt[19] and strife, His hand was aye upon his knife, He brandish'd like a beir; Boasters, braggers, and barganeris,[20] After him passed into pairis,[21] All bodin in feir of weir.[22] In jackis, scripis, and bonnets of steel, Their legs were chenyiet[23] to the heel, Froward was their affeir,[24] Some upon other with brands beft,[25] Some jaggit[26] others to the heft[27] With knives that sharp could shear. V. Next in the dance follow'd Envy, Fill'd full of feud and felony, Hid malice and despite, For privy hatred that traitor trembled; Him follow'd many freik[28] dissembled, With feigned wordis white. And flatterers into men's faces, And backbiters in secret places To lie that had delight, And rowneris[29] of false lesings;[30] Alas, that courts of noble kings Of them can never be quite![31] VI. Next him in dance came Covetice, Root of all evil and ground of vice, That never could be content, Caitiffs, wretches, and ockerars,[32] Hood-pikes,[33] hoarders, and gatherers, All with that warlock went. Out of their throats they shot on other Hot molten gold, methought, a fother,[34] As fire-flaucht[35] most fervent; Aye as they tumit[36] them of shot, Fiends fill'd them new up to the throat With gold of all kind prent.[37] VII.