I.

  Of Februar the fiftene nicht
  Full lang before the dayis licht
  I lay intill a trance
  And then I saw baith Heaven and Hell
  Me thocht, amang the fiendis fell
  Mahoun gart cry ane dance
  Of shrews that were never shriven,[110]
  Agains the feast of Fastern’s even,[111]
    To mak their observance. 
  He bad gallants gae graith a gyis,[112]
  And cast up gamountis[113] in the skies,
    As varlets do in France.

  II.

  Helie harlots on hawtane wise,[114]
  Come in with mony sundry guise,
    But yet leuch never Mahoun,
  While priests come in with bare shaven necks;
  Then all the fiends leuch, and made gecks,
    Black-Belly and Bawsy Brown.[115]

  III.

  Let see, quoth he, now wha begins: 
  With that the foul Seven Deadly Sins
    Begoud to leap at anis. 
  And first of all in Dance was Pride,
  With hair wyld back, and bonnet on side,
    Like to make vaistie wanis;[116]
  And round about him, as a wheel,
  Hang all in rumples to the heel
    His kethat for the nanis:[117]
  Mony proud trumpour[118] with him trippit;
  Through scalding fire, aye as they skippit
    They girned with hideous granis.[119]

  IV.

  Then Ire came in with sturt and strife;
  His hand was aye upon his knife,
    He brandished like a beir:[120]
  Boasters, braggars, and bargainers,[121]
  After him passit in to pairs,
    All bodin in feir of weir;[122]
  In jacks, and scryppis, and bonnets of steel,
  Their legs were chainit to the heel,[123]
    Frawart was their affeir:[124]
  Some upon other with brands beft,[125]
  Some jaggit others to the heft,
    With knives that sharp could shear.

  V.

  Next in the Dance followit Envy,
  Filled full of feud and felony,
    Hid malice and despite: 
  For privy hatred that traitor tremlit;
  Him followit mony freik dissemlit,[126]
    With fenyeit wordis quhyte:[127]
  And flatterers in to men’s faces;
  And backbiters in secret places,
    To lie that had delight;
  And rownaris of false lesings,[128]
  Alace! that courts of noble kings
    Of them can never be quit.

  VI.

  Next him in Dance came Covetyce,
  Root of all evil, and ground of vice,
    That never could be content: 
  Catives, wretches, and ockeraris,[129]
  Hudpikes,[130] hoarders, gatheraris,
    All with that warlock went: 
  Out of their throats they shot on other
  Het, molten gold, me thocht, a futher[131]
    As fire-flaucht maist fervent;
  Aye as they toomit them of shot,
  Fiends filled them new up to the throat
    With gold of all kind prent.[132]

  VII.