Flyting

Wikipedia says this: Schir Johine the Ros, ane thing thair is compild, also known as The Flyting of Dumbar and Kennedie, is the earliest surviving example of the Scottish version of the flyting genre in poetry. The genre takes the form of a contest, or "war of words", between two poets, each trying to outclass the other in vituperation and verbal pyrotechnics. It is not certain how the work was composed, but it is likely to have been publicly performed, probably in the style of a poetic joust by the two combatants, William Dunbar and Walter Kennedy, before the Court of James IV of Scotland.

Here is an excerpt:

 _Quod Dunbar to Kennedy_

SCHIR JOHINE the Ros, ane thing thair is compild
   In generale be Kennedy and Quinting,
Quhilk hes thame self aboif the sternis styld;
   Bot had thay maid of mannace ony mynting
   In speciall, sic stryfe sould rys but stynting;
Howbeit with bost thair breistis wer als bendit
As Lucifer, that fra the hevin descendit,
   Hell sould nocht hyd thair harnis fra harmis hynting.

The erd sould trymbill, the firmament sould schaik,
   And all the air in vennaum suddane stink,
And all the divillis of hell for redour quaik,
   To heir quhat I sould wryt with pen and ynk;
   For and I fly; sum sege for schame sould sink,
The se sould birn, the mone sould thoill ecclippis,
Rochis sould ryfe, the warld sould hald no grippis,
   Sa loud of cair the commoun bell sould clynk.

Bot wondir laith wer I to be ane baird,
   Flyting to use richt gritly I eschame;
For it is nowthir wynning nor rewaird,
   Bot tinsale baith of honour and of fame,
   Incres of sorrow, sklander, and evill name;
Yit mycht thay be sa bald, in thair bakbytting,
To gar me ryme and rais the feynd with flytting,
   And throw all cuntreis and kinrikis thame proclame.


       _Quod Kennedy to Dumbar_

Dirtin Dumbar, quhome on blawis thow thy boist?
   Pretendand the to wryte sic skaldit skrowis;
Ramowd rebald, thow fall doun att the roist,
   My laureat lettres at the and I lowis;
   Mandrag, mymmerkin, maid maister bot in mows,
Thrys scheild trumpir with ane threid bait goun,
Say _Deo mercy_, or I cry the doun,
   And leif thy ryming, rebald, and thy rowis.

Dreid, dirtfast dearth, that thow hes dissobeyit
   My cousing Quintene and my commissar,
Fantastik fule, trest weill thow salbe fleyit,
   Ignorant elf, aip, owll irregular,
   Skaldit skaitbird, and commoun skamelar;
Wan-fukkit funling, that natour maid ane yrle,
Baith Iohine the Ros and thow sall squeill and skirle,
   And evir I heir ocht of your making mair.

Heir I put sylence to the in all pairtis,
   Obey and ceis the play that thow pretendis;
Waik walidrag, and verlot of the cairtis,
   Se sone thow mak my commissar amendis,
   And lat him lay sax leichis on thy lendis,
Meikly in recompansing of thi scorne,
Or thow sall ban the tyme that thow wes borne,
   For Kennedy to the this cedull sendis.