The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

THE TENTH BUKE OF ENEADOS

CAP. I

Quhou Jupiter the court of goddis dyd call,And Venus makis complaynt amangis thame all.On breid, or this, was warp and maid patentThe hevynly hald of God omnipotent.The kyng of men and fader of goddis allAne consale or a sessioun maid do call,Amang the spretis abufe and goddis gret,Within hys sterrit hevyn and mylky set:Quharfra, amyd hys trone sittand full hie,Our all the erd he mycht behald and seThe Troianys castellys, and the pepill Latyne.Down sat the Goddis in thar segis dyvyne,The faldyn ȝettis baith vp warpyt braid;First Jove hym self begouth, and thus he said.O hevynly wightis, of gret power and mycht,Quhou is betyd ȝour myndis bene sa lycht,That ȝour decreit fatal and sentens hieRetretit thus and turnyt bakwartis suld be?Or quhy with frawart myndis now of laytAganys ȝour ressonabill oraclys ȝe debait?My will was not at the ItalianysIn batale suld concur contrar Troianys.Quhat maner discord be this at we se,Expres agane our inhibitioun? said he:Quhat dreid or reuerens thame, or thame, hes movytTo ryn till armys, and rasys weir controvit?Or hes sic wys persuadyt to bargane,With bludy wapynnys rent, and mony slane?Haist not the sesson to provoke nor prevene;Of batale cum sal detfull tyme bedene,Heireftir, quhen the fers burgh of CartageTo Romys boundis, in thar feirfull rage,Ane huge myscheif and gret qualm send sall,And thyrll the hie montanys lyke a wall:Than war just tyme in wreth to mak debait,Than war the tyme to rug and reif thus gait.Now of sic thingis leif and desist; with meGlaidly do makis frendly amyte.A few wordis on this wys Jupiter said;Bot not in quhoyn wordis him answer maidThe fresch goldyn Venus: O thou, quod sche,Fader of all, O eternal powste,Regnand abuse all men, and Goddis eik,To the I cum, the rewthfully beseik,Sen thar nane other maieste bene, ne glor,That in sik neid may help ws to implor.Thow seys quhou, with bost and felloun feir,The Rutilianys makis gret derray and steir;And quhou Turnus, pransand on semly stedis,Throw owt the ostis rydis in steill wedis;And quhou orpyt and prowdly ruschis heAmyd Troianys, be fawour of Mars, quod sche.The strenth of wallys, nor the portis schet,May nocht salf Troianys; lo, within the ȝet,Amyd the clos muralȝeis and paill,And dowbill dikis, quhou thai thame assaill,Quhill the fowceis of blude rynnys on spait:Eneas absent of this na thing wait.Quhidder gif that thou list suffir neuermarThar sege scalit, nor thame fre of dangar?Behald agane abowt new Troys wall,Ȝit bot begyn to byg, and not clos all,Quhou inveroun musteris thar ennemyis:Ane other ost and sege abowt thame lyis,And newly, lo, Tedeus son, not farFrom Arpos cite into Calabar,To wery Troianys movis, Diomed.I feill agane my wondis newly bleid;And I, thy blude, thi get, and douchter schene,Ȝit mortale wapynnys mon thoil eik and sustene!Gyf the Troianys, but thy benevolens,Or repugnant to thy magnificens,Hes socht onto the cost of Italy,Lat thame be punyst and thar cryme aby;And I sall suythly stand content for me,Thou mak thame na kynd help nor ȝit supple.Bot gif thai followit haue for thar behufeSa feill responsis of the Goddis abufe,With syndry admonitiouns, charge, and redisOf the infernal wightis and spretis that ded is,Than wald I knaw the caus or resson quhyThat ony mycht pervert or ȝit bewryThy commandmentis? how, or quharfor, may thaiNew fatys mak, and the ald do away?Quhat nedis to rehers, quhou on the costOf Scycilly thar schippis brynt war lost?Or quharto suld I dwel, to schaw ȝou thus,Quhou be the God of tempest, Eolus,The rageand wyndis send war our alquhar,Or Iris catchit throw clowdis of the ayr?Now movyt eyk bene fendlych wightis affrayt:Befor, only that chance was onassayt;Bot now Alecto newly is furth sentInto the ovir warld, that fell torment,With Bacchus fury enragit by and by,Walkand throu all citeis of Italy.Na thyng I paus on the empyre, quod sche,Allthocht we hoip had at sic thing suld be,Quhen fortoun schew tharof sum apperans:Lat thame be victour quham thou lyst avans.And gif na realm in this warld remanys,Quhom thy stern spous list geif to the Troianys,I the beseik of Troy by the rewyne,By that subuersioun rekand, and huge pyne,Suffyr that ȝyng Ascanyus mot beSalf fra all wapynnys, and of perrell fre;And, at the lest, in this ilk mortall stryveSuffir thy nevo to remane alyve.As for Ene, forsuyth, I mak na cair:Thoill hym in onkowth stremys, as he was ayr,Be dryve, and warpyt euery sey abowt,To follow furth in danger and in dowtQuhat curs and went at fortoun lyst hym sent;Mot it ples the fader omnipotentThat I may bot defend ȝon litill page,And hym withdraw from this fers weris rage.I haue in Cipyr the cite Amathus,And the hie standand burgh that hayt Paphus,And eik the ille yclepyt Cythera,The hallowyt hald als of Idalya,Quhar, rendryt vp all armys in that stede,Duryng hys age he sobir lyfe may led.And command eik with gret fors and mastryThe burgh of Cartage down thryng Italy;Fra thyne sal na thing resist nor gaynstandContrar citeis of Tyre or Affrik land.Quhat proffit has it done, or avantage,Of Troys batale to haue eschape the rage,And throw amyd the Grekis fyrys eikHaue fled away, and throw the sey haue seik,Sa feill dangeris bywent and ourdryveOur streym and landis; gyf that thus belyveTroianys hes socht till Itaill, to vpsetNew Troys wallys, tobe agane doun bet?Had not bene bettir thame in thar natyve hauldHad syttin still amang the assys cauld,And lattyr isillys of thar kynd cuntre,Or barrand soyll quhar Troy was wont tobe,Than thus, fra ded to ded, from payn to payn,Be catchit on, and euery day be slane?Restor, I pray the, to thai wrachit wightisXanthus and Symoes, fludis quhilk of rychtisWas wont tobe thar propyr herytage:O fader, suffir the fey Troiane barnageTo seik agane quhat hard myschance befallysTo Troy or Ilion with thar brokyn wallys.

CAP. II

To Venus complaynt Juno fra end till endMaid hasty ansuer, hir actioun to defend.The queyn Juno than, but mair abayd,Prykkyt with felloun fury thus furthbrayd:Quhy doys thou, said scho, to me sik offens,Constrenyng me brek clos profund sylens,And with thy wordis, quhar ayr I was koy,Prouokis to publys and schaw myne hyd ennoy?Quhat maner man, or quhilk of goddis, lat se,To move batale constrenyt hes Ene,Or to engyre hym self to Latyn kyngAs mortal fa, within hys proper ryng?I geif the cace, to Italy socht heOf the fatys by the autoryte,Provokyt tharto be the wyld dotageOf wod Cassandra in hir fury rage:Lat se, for all this, gyf that anys in sportTo leif hys strenthis we dyd hym exhort;Or forto put hys lyfe in ony danger;To sayll, or submyt hym to wyndis seir?Lat se, gyf we hym causyt to walk at large,And till ane bab commyt the batellis charge,And governance haill of hys cite wallys?Lat se gyf we, how evir the chance befallys,Persuadyt hym forto commove and steirOther quyet pepill with hym to rays the weir,Or till adione vp frendschip and allyWith Tyrrhene pepill and folk of Tuscany?Quhat God amovit hym with sic a gawdIn hys dedis to oys sik slyght and frawd,Or quhilk of our hard poweris wrocht sic thyng?Quhar was Juno with all, this lady ȝyng?Or quhar was sche also quhen, ȝistir nycht,Irys was send down throu the clowdis brycht?Is this a thing full onlesum, but let,Thocht Italianys with flambys ombesetThe new cite of Troy vprysand, lo?And is it not full gret dispyt alsoThat, in hys natyve land and faderis ryng,Turnus remane, or pretend tobe kyng,Quhamto the God Pylumnus grandschir is,And haly nymphe Venylia moder, I wys?Quhat! thinkis thou lesum is at Troianys infeirViolens to mak with brandis of mortall weirAgane Latynys, syk onkowth heritageTyll occupy and subdew in bondage,And thar catale in spreth to dryve away?Quhat! haldis thou lesum als, I pray the say,From otheris to withdraw sa thyftuuslyThar eldfaderis and maist tendyr ally,Or, from betwix thar breist and armys tway,Thar treutht plyght spowsys forto reif away?To cum and beseik trewys in strange landis,With syng or takyn of paix born in thar handis;And, netheles, to mak reddy for weir,Purvay thar schippis, provide armour and geir?To salf Ene, hes thou not power and mychtFrom Grekis handis hym to withdraw be slycht,And set in sted of that man, light as lynd,Owder a clowd or a waist puft of wynd?And eik thou may transform the schippis, quod sche,Intil alsmony Goddessis of the see:Bot, be the contrary, Rutilyanys ofspryngWe suld support, that is forbodyn thyng!Thy son Ene, mysknawyng this deray,As thou allegis, is absent now away:And quhat iniurys, absent mot he remane,And ignorant for ay of this bargane?Thow has Paphos, thyne is Idalia,And thyne mot be the ile of Cithera:Sen thou hes all thir at command and will,Lat other folkis in paix and rest dwell styll.Quharto assalzeis thou a strang cite,That hes bene oft exercyt in melle,And lyst invaid pepill with hartis kene?I can not fynd quhat occasioun ȝe meyn.Haue we etlyt the Phrigyane febill geirDown from the grund to welt our into weir?Quhidder was it we, or than Parys, that faltyt,That wrachit Troianys by Grekis war assaltit?Quhat was the caus, that Europ and AsyaTo rays the weir in armys war sa thraAganyst otheris, and thar auld allyansWith thiftuus reif to brek on sic myschans?Was I not governour and cheif ledar thar,The tyme quhen that the Troiane adulterarOmbesegyt the cite of Spartha,And the queyn Heleyn reft and brocht awa?Or quhidder gif I evir into that weirMynysterit dartis, wapynnys, or sic geir?Or ȝit that bargane stuffyt or bet, lat se,With Cupydis blynd lust and subtilite?Than had bene honest tyme, and ganand baith,Till haue previdit for thy frendis skaith:Now, al to layt, with thyne iniust complantisAganyst ws thou rysis, and attantisForto warp owt thy vane wordis chydyng,Quhilk certis may avale the in na thing.With siclyke wordis Juno fra end to endGan hir querrell sustene and als defend;And all the hevynly wightis dyd quhyspir and rown,In opynyonys full diuers, vp and down:Lyke as first, or wyndis blast be persave,The swouch is hard within the woddis waif,With frasyng soundis quhisland, ȝit onknawQuharof cumis this bruyt owt throw the schaw;All thocht it be to maryneris a syng,Of wyndis blast to follow sur taknyng.The Fader than omnipotent maist hie,That our all thingis hes souerane maieste,Begouth to say; and, quhen he spak, all cessyt:The hevynly heich hows of Goddis was pecyt;The erthis grund schuke trymlyng for feir,And still, but movyng, stud the hevynys cleir;The wyndis eik thar blastis lowynt sone;The sey calmyt hys fludis playn abone.Ressaue, quod he, my sawis, and tak tent,And thir my wordis within ȝour myndis emprent.Sen that algatis ȝit may not sufferit beLatynys considir with Troianys and Ene,Nor ȝe can nocht mak end of ȝour debait,I sall me hald indifferent, the meyn gait,And as for that, put na diuersyteQuhiddir so Italianys or Troianys thai be;Quhow evir this day the fortoun with thame standis,Bruke weill thar chance and werd on athir handis,Lat ich of thame hys hoip and fortoun sew:Quhidder so the fatys hes determyt of newTroianys tobe assegit with ItalianysTo thar myscheif, or wraik of the Troianys,Quhilkis with frawart admonytions sa langPeraventour hes errit and gane wrang;Nowder Troianys nor Rutilianys freith will I.Lat athir of thame thar awin fortoun stand by,And bruke thar wark thai haue begun; but faill,Kyng Jupiter salbe to all equale.The fatis sal provyd a way mair habill.And with that word, fortill hald ferm and stabillHys godly aith and promys sworn hes he,Be Stix the flude, Pluto hys broderis see,Be that ilk pykky layk with brays blak,And laithly golf, to kepe all that he spak;And, til afferm hys aith, at hys lykyngThe hevynnys all maid trymbill, for a syng.Thus endit was the consale, and al doyn,And Jupiter rays fra hys goldyn troyn:Quham hevynly wightis amyddis thame with joyOntill hys chymmys ryall dyd convoy.

CAP. III

Quhou the Troianys defendis thar cyte,Eneas absent sekand mair supple.Duryng this quhile, all the Rutilianys stowtThe cite portis lappit rownd abowt,Forto down bet the Troianys, euery fyre,Inveroun all the wallys with hait fyre.Eneas barnage, at myschefis hugeThus ombeset, and segyt but refuge,Inclusyt war but hop to wyn away,And sobyrly at defens, as thai may,On the hie towris hedis stud on raw:Ful thyn the cirkyllys of the wallys lawThai mannyt abowt; for in the first front studeJasyus, Imbrasus son, and eik the gudeTymetes, son of strang Icetoan,And by thame alsso the Assaracus twane,The eldar Thybrys with Castor full wroth;Brethir germane to kyng Sarpedon boith,Quham Clarus had, and Hemon, ferys twa,Followyt from the hie realm of Lycya.Ane Agmon of Lyrnesya fast tharbyPresys with all the fors in hys bodyA felloun stone to welt the wallys tyll,Quhilk semyt be a gret part of a hyll;Na les of statur than hys fader ClytyusWas he, nor ellys hys brother Mnestheus.With dartis thai assaill the cite fast,And thai defend with slungis and stane cast;Sum presys thik the wyld fyre in to slyng,The arrowys flaw spangand fra euery stryng.The Dardane child, the ȝyng Ascanyus,Principall thocht and cuyr of Dame Venus,Amyd the rowtis, in covert quhar he ȝeid,Thar mycht be seyn in hys fresch lustyhed,Lyke as ane gem, with hys brycht hew schynyng,Departis the gold set amydwart the ryng,Or in the crownell pyght, or rych hynger,Quhilk doys the nek array, or the hed ger;And mair semly than evir bane to se,Craftely closyt within the box of tre,Or than amyd the blak terebynthyneGrowys by Orycia: and, as the geit dois schyne,Hys curland lokkis hyngis down weill dekAbout hys schuldris our hys mylk quhyte nek;Ane circulet of plyabill gold so bryghtAbuf hys haris apon hys hed weil pyght.Thow Ismarus, of magnanymyteFulfyllit, eik thar myght men the se,Invnctand venemus schaftis the ilk tyde,Addres dartis, and wyrk wondis full wyde;Cummyn of the gentill blude of Meony,In Lyde cuntre born thou was, fast byThe plentuus sulze quhar the goldyn ryverPactolus warpys on grund the gold vre cleir.Reddy at hand was Mnestheus wight,Quham the renowne of this ȝistir nycht,For that he Turnus our the dychys drave,Full prowd maid in hys curage our the laif:With hym was Capys thar alsso, quham byThe town Capua is namyt in Champany.Thus ather party into hard barganyngStude at debait, quhill Eneas the kyng,With all hys ferys, baith day and mydnychtSlydis throw owt the salt famys lyght.For eftir that fra kyng Evander heDepartit was, as heir abufe said we,And entrit in amyd the Tuscane tentis,The kyng he socht, and tald hym hys ententis,Hys name to hym rehersyng, and hys blude;And hys desyre, fully to conclude,Hes schawyn planely, twychand quhat he socht,And quhat supple alsso with hym he brocht;And tald quhat army prowd MezentyusHad convenyt, and how the bald TurnusSo violent and fers was in hys will,Exhortyng hym to tak gude heyd heirtill;And how instabill was all warldis chance,All manis surte hyngand in ballance:And onto this hys request and prayerAdionyt hes on ful gudly maner.Thar was na mair delay, bot Tarchon kyngAl reddy was to fulfyll hys lykyng,With moblys and all ryches at command,And vp gan knyt thar fordward and cunnandOf amyte and perpetuall ally:Than of the fatys fre, in thar navy,At command of the Goddis, pepill TuscaneAr entrit in thar schyppys euerilkane,Submytting thame ontill a strange duke.Eneas barge than furth the vayage tukeBefor the laif, as almeral of the flote,And in hir stevyn kervyn full weil, God wot,The lyonys that the Phrygyane armys bene;Abufe the quhilkis porturat fair and greynWas Ida forest, to fugytyve TroianysThar best belovyt wod and natyve wanys.In hyr was set the gret prynce Eneas,That with hym self can mony thing cumpasTwychyng the chancis of batal in that tyde:Pallas adionyt sat by hys left syde,And he at hym dyd wysly ask and speirThe curs and namys of the starnys cleir,Quhilk in the styl hevyn schynys on the nycht:Now speris he, franand with all hys myght,To knaw Eneas wandryng be the see,And quhou huge payn he had on landis dre.

CAP. IV

Heir comptis Virgill the pepil of Tuscane,Quhilkis with Eneas com to the bargane.Ȝhe Musys now, sweit Goddessis ychone,Oppyn and onclos ȝour mont of Helycon:Reveil the secretis lyand in ȝour mycht,Entone my sang, addres my style at rycht,To schaw quhat pyssance, ostis, and army,At this tyme from the boundis of TuscanyIn falloschyp com with the prynce Ene,And stuffyt schippys of weir set to the see.Fyrst, prynce Massycus cummys with hys rowt,Into hys barge Tygrys, with stelyt snowt,Sowchand throw owt the fludis quhar scho went,A thowsand stowt ȝong men of hys talentVndir hym ledyng, for the batale bown,From Clusyum com vmquhile, that nobell town,And fra the Tuscane cite of Cosa;Baith castyng dartis and flanys vsyt tha,With arrow casys and other quavyrris lycht,And mortal bowys buklyt for the fyght.Sammyn furth salys Abas; and hym byHys barnage stud enarmyt rychely;Hys weirlyke schip our the fludis ilkaneOf God Appolloys goldyn statw schane:The rych cyte of Populonyas,Hys natyve cuntre, quharof born he was,Sax hundreth men of armys in wer expertWith hym hes send; and the ile in that partIllua callyt, within the Tuscane see,Sa rych of steill it may nocht wastyt be,Thre hundreth eik hes send with hym to pas.The thryd capitane, worthy Asylas,Of Goddis eik and men interpretur,Of euery spayng craft that knew the cuyr,Quhat the hart pypis and bestis entralys ment,Quhat signyfeit the starnys, quhar thai wentThar rycht cursis abufe the hevynnys hie,And euery byrdis vocis weil knew he,And quhat betaknyt, schynnyng from the hevyn,Thyr fyry blastis, or this thundris levyn;A thousand men assemlyt with hym ledis,With awful speris and scharp grundyn hedis:Quham the Hetruscane cite, Pysa gude,Inhabyt first from Alpheus that flude,Send tyll obey hym as thar capitane.Syne followys Astur, the semlyast of ane,Astur, maist sovyr horsman forto seik,Of variant cullour was hys armour eik;Thre hundreth walyt men with hym he led.All of a will, furth to the batal spedThe folkis alhail dwelt in the cite sweitOf Agelyn, otherwys callyt Cerete,And thai that dwellys in tha feldis, I wys,Endlang the bankis of flude Mynyonys,Or intill ancyent Pyrgus town alssua,Or inhabytys the cyte Grauyssa,Ful contagius of tempest and grews ayr.Suld I the pretermyt, sen thou was thar?I meyn the, Cygnus, of LygurianysThe cheif ledar, amang other capitanysAne the maist forcy into batal sted.Ne wil I not forȝet, suld I be ded,The, strang Cupauus, with thy few menȝe,Fra quhais tymbret rysys apon hieThe lusty swannys fedrame, brycht and scheyn:The cryme and caws of all ȝour woful teynWas luf and amouris, or pompus arraySchrowd in ȝour faderis connysans al to gay.For, as thai tell, quhil dolorusly CygnusMaid hys complant amang the scroggy busOf poppill tre branschis lang and squar,Quharin the twa systeris transformyt war,And gan bewail Phaeton, hys best belovyt;Quhil that he sang and playt, as hym behwyt,The dolly tonys and lays lamentabill,With sic regrate to comfort and astabillHys hevy amorus thochtis ennoyus,In quhite canos soft plumys joyusBecame ourheld, in lyknes of a swan,And led hys age na mar furth lyke a man,Bot tuke hys flycht vp from the erd in hy,And with a swouchand voce socht in the sky.Hys son, this tyde, havand hys falloschippysDistribut equaly into syndry schippys,Amang the navy and the flote at large,With ayris rollys furth hys bustuus barge,Clepyt Centaurus, and ithandly syne heDryvys throu fludis of the stormy see:Byg of statur stude he lyke to feght,Bostand the streme with ballast of huge weght,And with hys lang and lusty ballyngarOurslydis the deip fludis in thar fair.The nobill Ocnus from hys natyve landA fair army assemlyt brocht at hand,Son of God Tibris, the Tuscane ryver,Beget apon Manthus the lady cleir,That was baith nymphe and famus prophetes:Thys Ocnus was the ilk man quhilk expresOf Mantua the cite dyd he wall,And eftir hys said moderis name can callMantua, myghty of ald ancystryAnd forfaderis: bot hys geneologyWas not of ane kynrent cummyn all;For that town had thre clannys principall,And, vnder euery clan or trybe of tha,War other sobyr famyllis twys twa:Mantua eik was cheif and principal hedTill all thir pepill wonnyng in that sted,Takand thar fors and hardyment ilkaneFrom the lynage and nobill blude Tuscane.Mezentius, throu hys auld tyrranny,Furth of this cite aganyst hym in hyFyve hundreth men till armys maid do steir;Quham Myncyus, the fresch rynnand ryver,That from the lowch of Bennacus ischis down,And is ourheldyt all with redis brovn,Hes careit to the braid seys largeWithin thar weirly schip and awfull barge.Furth held the stowt and degest Aulestes,Quhilk with gret strenth of rowaris in that pres,Rasyng thame on thar thoftis for the nanys,The fludis smate with hundreth arys at anys,Quhil that the famy stowr of stremys leVp weltis from the braid palmys of tre.The mekill howk hym bair was Tryton callyt;For in hir forestam was the monstre stallyt,With watry trumpe fleyand the fludis gray:Quhar as scho salyt, men mycht se hym ayWith byrsy body porturyt, and vissageAll rowgh of harys, semyng of cullageIn mannys form fra hys cost to hys crown;Bot from hys belly, and thens fordwart dovn,The remanent straucht lyke a fyschis tayll,In symylitude of huddon or a quhaill;Vndre the breist of this ilk bysnyng thyngThe sey wallys bulrand makis murnyng.Sa mony walyt capitanys, nobill men,In help of new Troy, with schippys thrys ten,Slydis throw the salt stremys of the seeWith stelyt stevynnys and bowand bylge of tre.

CAP. V

Eneas schippis, translait in Nymphis of see,Tald hym quhou Turnus assegit the cyte.Be this declynyt was the days lyght;The moyn intill hyr waverand cart of nychtHeld rollyng throw the hewynnys myddil ward;As Eneas, the Troiane prynce and lard,For thochtis mycht na wys hys membris rest,Sa mony curys in hys mynd he kest,Bot sat in proper person, and nane other,To steir hys carvell and to rewle the ruther,And forto gyde the salys takand tent.Onone, amyd hys curs, thar as he went,Recontyris hym hys falloschip in hyOf Nymphis, quham of schippys and his navyThe haly moder, clepyt Cybele,Maid to becum Goddessys in the see:All sammyn swam thai, hand in hand yfeir,And throw the wallys fast dyd sewch and scheir,Als feill in numbyr Nymphys throw the flude,As laitly with thar stelyt stevynnys studeOf Troiane schippys by the costis syde.A weil far way, as our the streme thai glyde,Thar kyng thai knaw, and all in carralyngAbout hys schyp went circulyt in a ryng.Amangis quham, in speche the maist expert,Cymodocea to the wail astert,And with hir rycht hand can the eft casteillDo gryp onon, that all hir bak ilk deillAbuf the sey watir dyd appeir:Beneth the calmyt stremys fair and cleirWith hir left hand craftely swymmys sche;Syne on this wys spekis till Enee,That of this wonderus mervell knew na thing:Walkis thou or not, thou verray Goddis ofspryng,Our prynce and master Eneas? now awaik,Takill thy schippys, and thy schetis sclaik.We beyn thy navy and thy flote, quod sche,Bowyt sum tyme of fyr and bych tre,Grew in the haly top of mont Ida,And now, as present thou behald ws may,Nymphes we beyn, and salbe euermor.For, as ȝon faithles Turnus by the schorInvadyt ws with glavys and with fyre,On fors constrenyt for the flambys schire,Thy cabillys we in sundyr brak in haist,To seik the throw the sey, as we war chaist:And than the moder of Goddis, Cybele,Havand of ws compassioun and piete,In this figour has ws all translait,For euermar to be deificat,As Goddessys, quhar so ws lykis best,Amangis the fludis forto leif and lest.Bot thy deir child, ȝyng Ascanyus stowt,Besegyt is, and closyt rownd abowtWith wallys, fowcy, and trynschis, ather syde,Amyd dartis or quarrellys fast doys glyde,And dreidfull hostis of stern pepill Latyne,By weir enforsyng to distroy all thyne.Evandrus horsmen, clepyt Arcadanys,Mydlyt sammyn with Hetrurianys,Quham in thy help thou sendis by the land,Thai placis now, quhar as thou gaue command,Can occupy, abydand thy cummyng:Bot Turnus hes determyt, as certane thing,Gret garnysonys to send betwix thame sone,That ȝour hostis sall not togidder joyn.Get vp, haue done, and sone in the mornyng,Alsswyth as the brycht day begynnys to spryng,Thy ferys haill thou fyrst to harnes call,And with thy scheild invynsibill tharwithallThy selvyn schrowd, quham mychty God of fyreTo the, as ane maist souerane lord and syre,Has wrocht and gevyn, and with gold sa brychtThe bordouris has ourgylt and forgit at rycht.Gyf thou belevys not my sawys invayn,The lyght of day to morn, I schaw the playn,Huge hepys sal behald in feld dung downOf Rutilianys by fell occisioun.Thus said sche; and, departand with a skyp,By hir rycht hand sche schowys furth the schyp,As scho that was in that craft rycht expert;And throw the wallys on the tother partGlydys away undir the fomy seys,Als swyft as ganȝe or feddyrrit arrow fleys,That stryvys forto pyngill with the wynd:The remanent hir followys fast behynd.Anchises son, the gret Troiane Ene,Awondris, onwyttyng quhat this mycht be;And, netheles, hys curage dyd avanceWith this ilk fatale augury or chance:Syne schortly, lukand to the hevyn abone,On this maner can pray and maid hys boyn.O blyssyt moder of the Goddis, quod he,That hallowyt art in the montane Ide,Quhamto the toppys of mont Dyndymane,And eik the towryt citeis mony ane,With renyt lyonys ȝokkyt to the char,Ful tendyr bene and hartly euermar;Be thou in batall now my president,Be my protectrix, dewly takand tentAt this orakyll be hastyt to our weill;O haly Goddes, with happy fute of seillCum and assistis to thyne awyn Troianys.No mor he spak, bot, with that word atanys,In the meyn quhile vpspryngis the brycht day,Chasand the clowdis of the nycht away.And fyrst Eneas gan hys ferys commandThar baneris to displayt and follow at hand,Thar curage eik and curace to addres,And graith thame for the batail all expres.For he, be than, hys Troianys mycht behald;And of the eft schyp into hys town and haldMen mycht hym se, and knaw, quhar at he stude,Hys schynand new scheild from amyd the fludeInto hys left hand rasyt hie on hyght.The Troianys from the wallys of that sychtWar sa reiosyt, vp tha rasyt a cryThat rerdis to the starnys in the sky.The hoip of hys returnyng hait as fyreDowblyt thar curage, and vprasyt thar ire,That with thar handis fast thai dartis slyng,With sic a dyn of clamour and crying,And trumpys blast rasyt within the townSik maner bruyt, as thocht men hard the sovnOf crannys crowplyng, fleand in the ayrWith spedy fard in randoun heir and thar;As from the flude of Trace, hait Strymone,Vndre the dyrk clowdis, oft we se,Thai fle the weddris blast and rak of wynd,Thar glaidsum soundis followand thame behynd.Bot quhat mycht meyn this affeir and derayA gret farly and wondyr was, perfay,To Turnus, kyng of Rutuleis, that tyde,And the Italiane dukis hym besyde:Quhill thai at last beheld towart the cost,And saw the navy cum and mekill ost,Semand the sey of schippys all our flet.The creist or schynand tymbret, that was setAbufe Eneas helm and top on hyght,Kest byrnand flambys with a glytterand lycht;And eyk the goldyn boys of hys bukleirLarge fyry stremys on breid schew fair and cleirLyke as the comete stern sanguynolent,With hys red cullour tryst and violent,Schynys sum tyme apoun the donk nycht;Or frawart Syrius, that fervent star brycht,Quhilk with the scaldand heyt at hys rysyngByrnys the erth of drowth, and is the syngPretendand tyll all mortale folk, I ges,Contagyus infirmyteis and seiknes,That with hys schrewyt lyght canicularInfekkyt all the hevynnys and the ayr.Bot Turnus hardy stalwart hie curage,For all this feir, demynyst nevir a stage,Quhilk manfully schup thame to withstandAt the cost syde, and dyng thame of the land,That on na wys thar thai suld arryve;And with glaid semlant gan his folk belyveExortyng forto rays thar spretis on hie,And with hys wordis forthirmar eik heGan thame repreif of thar sa hasty feir.Lo! now present, says he, is cummyn heirThe mater quhilk ȝe lang desyrit haue;The tyme is now to gryp in hand ȝour glaif;The tyme of batale reddy is at hand,Quhar strenth beis schawyn in stalwart stowr to stand.Now euery man ramembir on his spows,Thynk on thar natyve land and dwellyng hows:Reduce ȝe now onto ȝour mynd, ilkane,The worthy actis of ȝour eldris bygane,Thar lovabyll fame, and ȝour awyn renowne;And lat ws formest haist ws to the see,And thar recontyr our fays, or thai land,Quhill as thai first set fut apon the sand,With slyde to cummyn, half deil in effray,Or thai thar fut steppis ferm, and tak array.Hap helpis hardy men, be myne avys,That weil dar tak on hand stowt interprys.Thus said he; and tharwith in hys thochtDevysis quham maist ganandly he mochtLed with hym, to resist and meit his fays,Or quham he suld not from the sege vprays,Bot styll remane to ferm and clos the town,The wallys and the trynschis enveroun.