The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

CAP. III

Quhou Eneas onto the Latynys gaveTwelf days of respyt the ded corps to grave.Be this war cum fra kyng Latynys cyteAmbassatouris, with branch of olyve tre,Besekand favouris and benevolens;That he wald suffir tobe careyt from thensTha corpsys ded, quhilkis on the feldis brounLay strowyt heir and thar, with swerd bet down,And thame restor agane of hys gentre,To suffyr thame begravyn for tobe;Assuryng hym, thar mycht be led na weirOn venquyst folkis, that lyfles mycht not steir,And prayt spair thar pepill at syk myschans,Quhylum clepyt hys frendis and acquentans.Quhen that Eneas, heynd, curtas, and gud,Thar peticioun sa ressonabill vndirstud,As man that was fulfillyt of bonte,Thar hail desyre full glaidly grantit he,And forthir eik onto thame thus he said:O Latyn folkis, quhat mysfortoun onglaidHas ȝou involuyt in sa onhappy weirThat ȝhe chays ws away, ȝour frendis deir?Desyre ȝhe paix bot for thame that bene lostBy marcyall fayt, and slane into this ost?And I, forsuyth, tyll all that levand beWald glaidly grant the sammyn, I say for me.Neuir hyddyr had I cummyn, wer not, perfay,Into this sted the fatys hecht for ayOur restyng place providit and herbry;Ne na weirfar with ȝour pepill led I.Bot ȝour kyng has our confiderans vpgeif,And rather hes settyn all hys beleifOn Turnus vassalage and his hie prowes:Thocht mor equale and ganand war, I ges,To this Turnus, the brekar of our paix,Till aventour hymself to de in pres.Gif he pretendis in batale with a brandTo end the weir, or Troianys of this landForto expell, heir semyt hym vnder scheildWith wapynnys to recontre me in feild,That nane bot ane of ws war left levand,Quhais lyfe God lyst withhald, or hys rycht hand.Now haldis on, and all the lyfles banysAnd corpsis of ȝour wratchit citeȝanysDo byrn, and bery eftir ȝour awyn gys:Says Eneas, the Troiane war and wys.Than of hys speche so awondrit war thai,Kepit thar silens, and wist nocht quhat to say;And athir towartis otheris turnys, but mayr,And can behald his fallow in a stair.The eldast man amang thame, finaly,Clepyt Drances, that had full gret envyAt ȝyng Turnus, all way to hym infestFor ald malyce or of cryme manyfest,Begouth to speke and ansuer thus agane:O huge gret is thy fame, thou Duke Troiane,Bot far grettar all owt we may aspyThy dedis of armys and thy chevalry:With quhat lovyngis equaill may I compairThe to the Goddis in hevyn abuf the ayr?Quhidder sall I fyrst extoll, and wonder in the,Thy gret gentryce and sa just equyte,Or thy gret fors and laubour bellicall?Glaidly, forsuyth, now haymwart bair we sallOntill our natyve bundis and citeThir sa gret sygnys of humanyte;And, gif that ony chans can fynd the way,We sall do fully all that evir we mayThe to conione with kyng Latyn in hy:Lat Turnus quhar hym list go seik ally.And forthir eik weil lykis ws at allTo help till rays this fatale massy wall,And forto ber apon our schuldris war joyThir stonys gret to thys new wark of Troy.Thus said Drances, and all the remanentTharto annerdis with haill voce and consent.Twelf days of trewys thai band, to stanch debait,Forto kepe paix, and werys sequestrate:Than throu the woddis and thir holtis hieTroianys and Latynys sammyn, he and he,Quhar so thame list, wandris but danger.The heich eschis soundis thar and heirFor dyntis rude of the scharp stelyt ax;Down weltit ar with mony granand strakisThe fyrrys rekand to the sternys on hie;The mekill syllis of the warryn treWith weggis and with proppis beyn devyd;The strang gustand cedyr is al to schyde;Ne ces thai not apon the jargand wanysThe gret akys to turs away atanys.

CAP. IV

The kyng Evander complenyt sor and wareit,Quhen his son Pallas ded was to hym careit.Than Fame with this, alsfast as scho mycht spryng,As messynger of sa gret womentyng,Flaw furth, and all with murnyng fillys scheEvander kyng hys palyce and cyte,Quhilk layt tofor had schawyn that PallasIn Latyum landis sa victoryus was;Now says sche, lo, is he brocht on beir!The Archadis ruschit to the portis in feir,And euery wyght in handis hynt als tyteAne hait fyre broynd, eftir the ald ryte,In lang ordour and rabill, that all the stretisOf schynand flambys lemys brycht and gletis.Quhil all the large feildis of the lightMyght seueraly be raknyt at a sight.The Troiane rowtis, on the tother hand,With thame adionys thar folkis sair wepand:Quham as the matronys beheld on sik wysSo duylfully wend to the kyngis palys,The dolorus town in euery streit and wayWith petuus scrykis and gowlyng fyllit thai.Than was na fors Evander mycht refreyn,Bot in amyddis thame with gret disdeneHe ruschis, plenand on wofull maner,And fell on growf abuf ded Pallas beir,Wepand and waland as his hart wald breke;Embrasyt hym, bot no word mycht he speke:And scars at last with gret difficulteThe cundytis of his voce war lowsyt fre;Quhen he mycht speke, than thir hys wordis was:This is nocht thy last cunnand, son Pallas;Thou promyst not so vnto thy fader deir,Bot at thou suld pas mair warly in weir,And not in danger of the cruell Mart.Owr weill I wist, with harmys at my hart,Quhat aventour, and of quhou mekill mychtTill ony ȝong man, the first feld in fight,Was gret desire of new loif or glory,And how sweit was renown of chevalry.Allace! the first commancement and assaysTo ȝyng men beyn in weir full fey always;And rycht hard bene the first entechmentOf hasty batall to thame bene not acquent.My vowys nor my prayeris gret and smallWar not accept to nane of Goddis all.O thou my blissyt spows, decessit or now,Full happy of that ded in faith was thou,That to thys sorow not preservyt was!Bot be the contrar I, allace, allace!Ourlevit has my fatys profitabill,And am alyve as fader miserabill:Quham, wald God, in ȝon sammyn mortale werisRutilyanys had ourquhelmyt with thar speris,That, followand to the feild my feris of Troy,I mycht haue ȝald this sawle full of ennoy,So that this funeral pomp, quhilk heir is wrochtMy body, and nocht Pallas, hame had brocht!Ne byd I nocht ȝou, Troianys, to argewOf amyte and allyance bund of new,Ne our rycht handis and promys, quhilkis weIn frendschip knyt and hospitalyte:This mysfortoun is myne of ald thirlage,As tharto detbund in my wrachit age.Bot had this hasty ded, sa ondigest,Haue sufferit bot my son a stound to lest,Quhill of Rutilianys he had slane thousandis,And investit the Troianys in thar landis,That is to say, in Latyum or Lavyn,Weill lykyt me that he had endyt syne.And forthir eik, Pallas, my son so deir,Na mair rychly cowth I the lay on beir,Nor with mair wirschip list me entyre the,Than is providit be reuthfull Enee,Be myghty Troianys and pryncis Tyrrheyn:For all the Tuscane menȝe, as heir is seyn,Gret trophe and rich spulȝe hyddir bryngis,On perkis rychly cled with thar armyngisQuham thy richt hand in feild had put to ded.Bot, O thou Turnus, in this sammyn stedAmangis otheris heir suld thou haue be,In form and maner of a stok of tre,Gyf ȝhe of age had beyn equale and perys,And baith elyke cummyn to ȝour strenthy ȝheris.Bot now, allace! I, fey onhappy wight,Quharto delay I Troianys from the fyght?Pas haym in haist, and remember to sayThir my desiris to ȝour prynce, I ȝou pray:Evander says that thy ryght hand, Ene,Is all the caws that he delays to de,Or that this haitsum lyfe sustene he wald.Sen now is lost hys son Pallas the bald:Sa till hym that he oblist is of det,Baith to the son and the fader, to setȜon Turnus slauchter for owr recompens:To the Eneas only, but offens,And to fortoun, remanys this journay ȝit,Quharwith thou may thankfully be acquyt.Tell hym, na lust to lyf langar seyk I;Onlesum war syk plesour I set by;Bot for a thraw desyre I to lest heir,Turnus slauchter and deth with me to beir,As glaid tithandis onto my child and barn,Amang the gostis law in skowgis dern.

CAP. V

Heir athir party takis byssy cuyrThe ded bodeis to graif in sepultur.The meyn sesson Aurora rasyt hir lycht,Richt confortabill for euery mortall wight,Rendryng agane the oportunyteOf laubour and of wyrkyng, as we se.The prynce Eneas, and the kyng Tarchon,Gret byngis has of treys mony oneVpbeldyt, by the bowand costis bay.Thydder euery ane dyd cary, but delay,Eftir thar eldris gys, onto that stedThe corpsis of thar frendis that war ded,As for to do thar observans of det;And thar vnder the smoky fyre has set,Quhill that the hevynnys hye dyd walxin dirk,Involuyt with the reky stewys myrk.And thrys on fut all sammyn euery manIn schynand armour abowt the fyris ran,And thrys the wofull funerall inglys thaiCirculyt abowt on horsbak in array,With gowlyng and with vocis myserabill;Quhill that of trigland terys lamentabillThe feildis strowyt war in euery place,Armouris all wet with wepyng, and thar face.The clamour of the men and trumpys stevynGan spryngyng vp on hight onto the hevyn.Syne cumis sum, and in the fyre dyd slyngThe weirly wedis, spulȝe, and armyng,Rent from the Latynys slane into the weir;As helmys, scheildis, and rych swerdis seir,Brydillys, and all thir stedis trappouris fair,The hasty hurland charyot quhelys squair:And other sum kest in the fyre syk geirAs weilbekend the corps was wont to weir,Thar awyn wapynnys, and thar onsilly scheildis,Quhilk mycht thame nocht defend into the feildis.Full mony carcage of thir oxin gretAbowt the fyris war brytnyt and downbet,And bustuus bowkis of the byrsyt swyne,Our feildis all byreft from euery hyne;Thai steik the beistis, and swakkis in the fyre,Endlang the costis all tho byrnand schyre;And can behald quhou that thar feris brynt,Observand weill the gledis half owt quent,And eik the assys half brynt of the ded:Ne may thai thens be harlyt of that sted,Quhill at the hevyn ourquhelmyt the dyrk nycht,That ganand is for fyry sternys brycht.And, netheles, the Latynys lamentabillIn placis seir fyris innumerabillVpbeldit has, and sum with wofull rerdFeill corpsis deip bedelvys vnder erd;And sum alsso in cartis haue thai sentTo townys in the feildis adiacent;And sum alsso war send to the cite,Tobe entyrit as thame accordyt be:The remanent all sammyn assemlyt ourane,But numbyr and but ordour, euery ane,Of corpsys slane in huge heip byrn thai:And thus, on athir sydis, the hie wayAnd large feildis dyd oft of fyris schyne.As that the thryd days lycht eftir syneThe dyrk nycht removyt from the sky,The assys deip, murnand with mony a cry,Down dyd thai cast, and scrapis owt atanysThe hait amyrris and the byrslyt banys;And ȝit all warm, onculyt, sone thai haveBedelvyn thame, and in the erd begrave.Bot, certis, than renewys the womentyngWithin the mychty burgh of Latyn kyng,The rumour rays and murmour principalyOf bewalyng all owt the maist party.The wofull moderis and matronys wepis heir,The eldmoderis, and eyk the systeris deir;Thar mycht be hard with duylfull breistis greytThe ȝyng babbys walyng on the streyt,That had thar faderis slane this hyndir day,Cryand, ichane, allace! and weill away!Thai curs and wary fast this vengeabill weir,And Turnus wedlok bannys with mony a teir:All in a voce thai cry, desirand heSuld ondertak the batall and melle,And feght allane to mak end of this thing,As he the quhilk pretendis to weld the ryngOf Italy with honour pryncipall,Desyrand that he suld be lord of all.The brym Drances aggregis weill this thyng,And buyr on hand baldly befor the kyngNane bot this Turnus challance wald Enee,Turnus only to feght desyris he.And, be the contrar, mony sensymentisFor Turnus schawys evident argumentis:Of queyn Amatha the gret authoryteDekkis and defendis hym with wordis sle;And hys gret fame and actis triumphallHys querrell dyd susteyn agane thame all.

CAP. VI

Befor king Latyn and hys consale in deidVenulus schawis respons of Diomeid.Abuf all this, lo, the ilk stound ononThyr messyngeris, all trist and wobegon,Returnyt haymwart into thar maist neidFrom the gret cite of schir Dyomed;Reportand answer, that alhaill was lostThar lang travale and maist sumptuus cost;Schortly, thai had doyn thar na thyng at docht,The rych gyftis nor gold avalyt nocht,For all thar large requestis and prayeris;To help the Latyn pepill in thar werisBehuffyt thame to seik other supple,Or to mak paix with Troiane prynce Ene.Herand thir wordis, this ald Latyn kyngFalys all curage, with gret lamentyng:For patently the Goddis wraik, hym thocht,Schew that by fait Ene was thyddir brocht,And manifest mycht of Goddis hym dyd sustene,That schew the new gravys befor thar eyn.Quharfor, a gret consale assemlys he,And callys the cheif ledaris of hys menȝe,Chargeand thai suld in hys palyce conveynOnto the riall chymmys. Tho bedeynThai flok so fast that euery way was hyd.Thys ancyent kyng dyd set hym dovn amydThe cepturyt men, as first and pryncipall,Bot no thyng semyng glaid of cheir at all.Than the ambassat, that was returnyt aganeFrom Dyomedis cite Etholiane,He bad do schaw the credens that thai brocht,Per ordour haill thar answer, faland nocht.Silens was maid, ilk man hys tong held than,And Venulus, of thame the gretast man,Begouth fortill obey the kyngis charge,And schew hys credens planely thus at large:O citeȝanys, we haue visseit Diomed,And seyn thai strenthys by thame of Arge in deidVpbeldyt in the boundis of Italy;The ways thiddir we haue met by and by,And eschapyt all dangeris by the gait,All thocht our journay was nocht fortunait.We haue twichit that sammyn douchty handBy quham of Troy distroyt was town and land:Quhilk now as victor, in the feildis planeBesyde the skyrtis of the mont Gargane,Within boundis of Japigya fulȝe,That now on days Apulȝe clepyng we,Vprasyt hes the cite Argyripas,Quham fra hys natyve pepill namyt he has.Fra that we entryt war in hys presens,And forto speik was geif ws audiens,The gyftis and rewardys present we;Our credens, our estait, and our cuntre,Declaryt plane, and quha with wer ws socht,And quhat occasioun had ws thidder brocht.He hard ws weill, and on a frendly wysThus answer maid with wordis war and wys:O fortunat folk, quhar Saturn regnyt swa,Ȝhe ancyent pepill of Ausonya,Quhat mysaventour and onkyndly heytȜou steris from ȝour lang rest and quyet,Prouocand ȝou to movyng, rays, and steir,Sa peralus, onkowth, and onthrifty wer?For euery ane of ws that dyd offensIn Troys bundis with swerd and violens,Or cruell handis set fortill invaidKyng Priamus, and of hys realm degraid;(I leif ontald all thai that in the feldBy Troys wallys hes swelt vnder scheld,Or that the flude of Symois by the townDrownyt in stremys warpis vp and dovn;)Our all the warld of ws hail the remanysBeyn punyst fore with onrehersabill panys,And sufferit hes all maner of turment:Ful weill knawis my wordis, quhat I ment,The sorofull constillatioun of Mynerve,Quhilk causyt mony douchty man to sterve;And on the costis of EuboicaThe rokis beris witnes ȝit alssua,And the montane Caphareus, God woit,That vengeans tuke and wraik apon our floyt.From that weirfar and cursyt chevalryWe cachyt ar to syndry costis, far byOur natyve bundis and ald heritage.Lo, Menelay, ane of the cheif barnage,And Atrius son, yclepyt Atrydes,To Protheus pillaris, bait Pyramydes,Constrenyt is in exill forto wend;Vlixes alsso, as full weill is kend,Bewavyt is wyd quhar our all the see,So that the Ciclopes of Ethna saw he.Quhat suld I tell of Neoptolemus,That other wys to name is hait Pyrrhus,The hard myschans and tynsell of hys ryng?Or quhou aganys Idomeneus the kyngHys kyndly Goddis and cuntre dyd rebell,And hym gan of hys natyve realm expell?Or quhou the Locrys, Aiax Oelyus ost,Now doys inhabyt the waist Lybyan cost?Sen he hym self the gret Agamemnon,The kyng of Myce, and cheif ledar of onOf all the Grekis ostis in batale,Ha, schame to say! fowlely befell,That by the handis of hys awyn wifeThe first nycht in hys palyce lost hys lyfe.And he that venquyst Asya lyis ded;The sle adultrar occupiis hys sted.The Goddis eik sa far did me invy,That in my natyue land neuer sall I spyMy chaist spousage, lyke as befor hes bene,Ne Calydon my realm of crymys cleyn.And now alsso, a grisly thyng to se!Ane selcouth monstre, lo, betyd hes me:My ferys lost with plumys in the ayrAs thame best lykis ar fleand our al quhar,Allace of my folkis the vengeabill wraik!Transformyt in fowlys, wandris by the laik,And of thar lamentabill and wofull sowndisThe large costis dynnys and redoundis.Thir myschevys for my trespas and cryme,I may traist, hes betyd me sen that tymeThat I, witles and so rakles, perfay,The hevynly bodeis durst with swerd assay,And with smert wond was our presumptuusTo violat the rycht hand of Venus.Solist na mar, quod he, persuaid me nochtThat to so dangerus batellis I be brocht.Eftir the bettyng down of Troys wallys,With the Tewcranys, quhat chance that euir befallis,I will na mair debatis mak nor weris;Nor of our ald stryfe thir hyndir ȝheris,That so myschews was and bad to se,May I glaidly remember now, said he.Tha giftis rych, and mony fair presandis,Quhilkis ȝe to me hes brocht furth of ȝour landis,Return and beir onto the Prynce Ene.Contrar hys keyn dartis ellis stand haue we,And hand for hand matchit hym in fycht:Beleif me as expert, quhou stowt and wightIs he owther in batale place or feld,And how sternly he rasys vp hys scheild,Or with quhou gret a thud in the melleAne lance towartis hys aduersar thrawys he.Forthir, he said, I certify ȝou alsua,That, gif the forsaid grond of PhrygiaTwa othir sik men fosterit had or bred,The citeis all of Arge mycht sore haue dred,And the offpryng of Dardan eselyMycht in our realmys arryvit by and by,So that Grece suld haue murnyt, euery tovn,The fatis ald reuersit vp syd dovn.Alhail the stop, resistans, and delay,Mayd at Troy wallys, quhil the sege thar lay,Was by the handis of Hector and Ene;The Grekis conquyst lang tyme, trastis me,By thame was styntit, apon sik manerThat it prolongit was quhil the tent ȝer.Athir of thame in bonte and curageExcelland war, and full of vassalage;Athir of thame maist souerane and douchtyIn dedis of armys, prowes, and chevalry:Bot this Ene was first all owt expresOf reuth, compassioun, and of gentilnes.Tharfor all sammyn adionys ȝour rycht handisIn ferm allyance of concord, and sik bandisBe ony wys se ȝhe optene, quod he;For, gif thai start till armys in melle,Be war with thame fortill debait, I red.Maist nobill kyng of kyngis, in this stedHys answer hes thou hard, as I haue tald,And twichand this gret batale quhat he wald.

CAP. VII

The kyng proponys with Enee to tak pesIncontrar Turnus; tharto persuadis Drances.Scars had the messyngeris thir wordis said,Quhen all the Latynys, trublyt, full onglaid,Fra hand to hand quhispyris fast and roundis,On diuers wys demyng with murmour soundis:Lyke as the swyft watir stremys cleirSum tyme rowtand men on far may heir,Quhar it is stoppit with thir stanys round,That of the ryveris brute and brokkyn sound,Brystand on skelleis our thir demmyt lynnys,The bankis endlang all the fludis dynnys.Bot eftir that thar mudis mesyt wer,Thar waverand wordis stanchit and sik beir,With reuerens first blyssand the Goddis mycht,The kyng thus carpys from hys trone on hycht:O Latyn pepill, forsuyth I wald al gait,And so had beyn far bettir, weill I wait,Full lang or now avisyt had we beTwychand the common weill and materis hie;And not at sik a poynt, apon this wys,Our consale to assembill and to avys,Quhen that our fays and aduersaris ar bownForto bysege the wallys of our town.O citeȝanys, we move and ledis at handAne wer inoportune, quhilk is onganand,Aganys folkis of Goddis clan discend,That beyn invincybill, and weill can defendSo that na bargane may thame irk nor tyre;Nor thocht thai venquyst war, baith man and syre,May thai desist, ne withdraw the melle.Gif ony hope or confidens had weIn chevalry of the Etholianys,Quhilkis in Napillis with Dyomed remanys,And for thir men of armys thidder send,Do all sik traste away, and ȝou defend:Lat euery man in his awyn self haue hope.But quhou febill sik traste is ȝe may grope,And eik befor ȝour eyn cleir may ȝe seIn quhou gret perrell and proplexiteAll other materis lyis now or standis;All sic thyngis bene braid amang ȝour handis.I will accus nor argu now na wight.All haill the fors or strenth mycht be in sychtExercyt was, I wait; sen all the flourAnd pyssans of this realm dyd stryve in stour.Now so it is that I will breifly end,And in schort wordis mak onto ȝou kendThe dowtsum purpos in my mynd remanys;Attendans geif, and harkis all at anys.I haue, besyde Tyber the Tuscane flude,Ane ald feld onprofitabill and rude,Far strekand west to the bundis quhar remanysThe Scicyll pepill, quhilkis clepit ar Sycanys:The folk Auruncane and of RutulyThis grand sawys full onthriftely,With scharp plewis and steill sokkis seirThai hard hillys hyrstis forto eyr,And on thir wild holtis harsk alssoIn faynt pastur doith thar bestis go.All that cuntre and band of hillis hie,Sa full of rochis pynnakillis, as we se,Lat it be geif for amyte and concordTo the Troianys, and Eneas thar lord;Syne offer thame equale trety condyng,And, as our perys, do call thame in this ryng;All sammyn lat thame dwell heir by and by,Gif thai haue sik desyre to Italy,Do lat thame beld thar cite wallys squar.Bot gif so be that thai lyst ellis quharTo othir costis or pepill forto wend,Thar dwellyng place for ay to apprehend,And possibill be that of our boundis thaiMay so depart, and from thens wend away;Twys ten schippis lat ws beld aganeOf strang tymmyr and treis Italyane,And gif thai wald compleit ma in this land,The stuf lyis all reddy by the strand:Of thar schippis the numbir and manerLat thame command, and we sal furnys heirThe irne graith, the warkmen, and the wrychtis,And all that to the schippis langis of rychtis.And forthir eik it lykis me, quod he,To ber my wordis to this prynce Ene,And to conferm our frendschip and our pes,Ane hundreth gay ambassatouris, but les,Of gretast blude of the Latyn menȝe,And in thar handis reke furth the peaceable tre;And bair hym giftis and rewardis large,Of gold and evoir mony sovm and charge,The char or sete accordyng for the ryng,Our rob ryall, ensenȝeys of a kyng.Avys heiron amangis ȝou for the best,And help to bryng our febill weill to rest.Ane Drances tho vpstud, and speke began:The quhilk Drances was the self manThat, as we said haue laitly heir tofor,Was rycht molest to Turnus euermor,Quham the renovn of Turnus and gloryPrikkyt full sor with lurkand hyd envy;Of moblis rych and plentuus was he,And maste expert in speche and wordis sle,Bot of his handis into batale stedFull cald of curage, dolf as ony led,And into consalys gevyng he was haldA man nocht indegest, bot wys and cald;Bot ane seditioun or a brek to makeSa masterfull, tharin was nane hys mayk:The nobill kynrent of hys moderis sydeMaid hym full gret of blude, and full of pryde;Hys fader was oncertane and onknaw.And vp he startis in this ilk thraw,With thir wordis Turnus to ourcharge,Aggregyng on hym wrath and malyce large:O douchty kyng, thou axis consale, said he,Of that mater quhilk, as semys me,Is nother dyrk nor dowtsum, bot full cleir,That mysteris not our avicis beyn heir.The pepill haill grantis that thai waitQuhat forton schawys, and in quhat estaitOur materis standis; bot thai ar arch to schaw,Quhispirand amangis thame, thai stand sik aw.Bot caus hym geif thame liberte to speke,Do way his bost, at thar breth may outbreke;I meyn of hym, by quhais onhappy werd,And fraward thewys, now ded on the erdSamony cheif chiftanys and dukis lyis:Forsuyth, I sall say furth all myne avys,All thocht with brag and bost, or wapynnys, heMe doith await, and mannans forto de:For by hys dedis may we se expresThys cite haly plungit in distres,Quhillys that he has maid hym to assayThe Troianys strenth, and stall sa sone away,Havand assurans to withdraw and fle,And into armys dois bost the hevynnys hie.Bot, O thou all thar best and riall kyng,To all thir gyftis ekis bot a thyng;Onto thir presandis, and wys wordis seir,That to Troianys thou has byd say and beir,Ekis a gift, and lat neuer demyt beThe bustuusness of ony may dant the,Bot that thi douchter, O thou fader gude,Onto ȝon worthy prynce of gentill bludeBe gevyn, tobe thy son in law, I wys,As he that worthy sik a wedlok is;And knyt vp paix, but mor disseuerans,With that eternall band of allyans.And gif sa gret raddour or dreid haue weWithin our myndis or our breistis, quod he,That, for Turnus, we dar nocht do sik thyng;Than lat ws for the weilfar of this ryngBeseik hym tharfor, and with haill ententRequire hym at he wald grant hys consent,So that the kyng, at hys fre volunte,Mycht oys and do hys proper dewyte,And, for the weill publik of this land,Desyre that he na wys tharto ganestand.O Turnus, hed and causar verralyOf thir myschevis gret in Italy,Quharto sa feill sys in playn perrellis nowThir sylly wrachit citeȝanys warpis thou?Nane hoip of weilfar haue we in this wer:For paix halely we all the requer,Togiddyr with Lavinia the schene may,Quhilk is the pand or plege, this dar I say,Of paix tobe kepit inviolate.And I forsuyth, quhilk, as be thy consait,Thou fenys thyne evill willar forto be,And for the common weill, sa mot I thee,So forto cum I refus nocht, gud broder,Bot lo me heir, now formest of all otherHumylly the besekyng: I requer,Haue mercy, lord, of thyne awyn frendis deir,Lat be thy stowt mynd, go thy way but lak,With ane mair strang rebute and dryve abak.Ded corpsis bet down enew haue we seyn,Our large feldis and boundis all betweynLeft desolate and waist of induelleris.Bot gif thy fame and gret renown the steris,Gyf in thy breist sa hie curage and mychtThou has consauyt, thynkand the sa wight,And gif that on sik wys this hald ryallSuldbe thy dowry and rych gyft dotallThou berys in hart, and is to the sa deir;Do vndyrtake this thyng, and end the weir:Addres thy body baldly, and not spayrForto recontyr alone thyne aduersar,To that entent, that Turnus all hys lyfeMay weld the kyngis douchter to hys wyfe;So that we, dolf of curage as the led,Be not doun strowit in the feildis ded,In cumpaneis onberyit or bewalyt.Bot thou, that has in feild sa feil assalyt,Gyf ony strenth thou has or hardyment,Or marciall prowes steryng thyne ententFor thy cuntre; aganyst the, for hys rycht,Behald thy fa prouocand the to fyght,Ȝondir all reddy to mak hys party gude:Delay no mor, bot manfully go to it.