The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

CAP. VIII

Turnus, at Drances speche commovit sair,Rycht subtelly allegis the contrar.The fers mude of Turnus, this bald syre,At sik sawys kyndillyt hait as fyre;Sychand rycht sor deip in hys breist onon,Thir wordis pronuncis with a petuus grone:Drances, said he, forsuyth euer hes thou beynLarge and to mekill of spech, as weil is seynNow, quhen the batale desyris wark at hand:The consale syttand, first thou doys vpstand.Bot not with wordis suld the cowrt be fillyt,Set thou be gret tharin, and ful evill willyt,With haltand wordis fleand from the heir,Quhen thou assouerit art of al danger,So lang as that our strenthy wallys gudeOur ennemys debarrit doith exclude,Or quhil the fowceis of our forteresRynnys not our of bludy spait, I ges.Tharfor trump vp, blaw forth thyne eloquens,As thou was wont to do, mak thy defens:Bot than thou may, Drances, be myne avice,Me to reproch of feir and cowardyce,Quhen that thi rycht hand into batale stedSa mony hepis of Troianys hes laid ded,And quhen thou takynnyt hes so worthelyWith syng tropheall the feildis, as haue I.Full eith it is fortill assay, and seQuhat may our sprety fors in the melle;And, as full weill is knawyn to ws eik,Our fais beyn not far from hens to seik,Bot plant about the wallis of our town:Aganyst thame go mak ws reddy bown.Quhy duellys thou and tareis thus al day?Quhidder gif thy marcial dedis, as thai war ay,Into thy wyndy clattrand tung salbe,And in tha cowart feit, euir wont to fle?Says thou I was repulsyt and dryve away?O maist onworthy wight, quha can that say?Or me justly reprochyng of syk lak,That I rebutyt was or dung abak,By me quhen thou behald mycht Tyber fludeBoldyn and ryn on spait with Troian blude,And all the famyll of Evander kyngBrocht onto grond alhail and his ofspryng;And the Archadis, confundyt and ourset,With mony ma in armys I doun bet?The grysly Bytias, and Pandarus his brother,Thai ar expert gif I fled one or other,And eik thai thousand sawlys on a dayAs victor I to hell send hyne away,Quhen that I was inclusyt at distresAmyd myne ennemys wallis and forteres.Thou says, in weir na hoip is of weilfare:O wytles wyght! pronunce that, and declareSik chance betyd ȝon Dardan capitane,And spa sik thyng onto thy dedis ilkane.And forthir eik, sen thou art mad becum,Ces not forto perturbill all and sum,And with thy felloun raddour thame to fley;The febill myghtis of ȝon pepill sey,Into batale twys venquyst schamefully,Spare not fortill extoll and magnyfy;And, be the contrar, the pissans of Latyn kyngDo set at nocht, bot lychtly, and down thryng.Now the nobill Myrmydon capitanysQuakis in armys for feir of the Troianys,And now Tedeus son DiomedesAgast is, and Larissyane Achilles:And Aufidus, the swyft flowand ryver,Rynnys contyrmont frawart the sey for feir.And quhill alsso this ilk schrewit wight,That is controvar of mony wykkyt slycht,Fenȝeis hym sleyt or abasyt tobe,That he dar not chide furth incontrar me,Than with hys dreid and sle controvit feirMy cryme aggregis he on hys maner.Desist, Drances, be not abasyt, I pray,For thou sal neuer los, schortly I the say,By my wapyn nor this rycht hand of myne,Sik ane pevych and catyve saule as thyne:Nay; lat it duell with the, as best may gane,Within that wrachit corps, and thar remane.Now, O thou gret fader and prynce souerane,To the and thy consale I turn agane.Gyf thou list no thyng trasting nor affyInto our armys nor our chevalry;Gyf that we be of help all desolate,And hail at vnder into this last debait,Distroyt for ay, and na help may mak,For that our ost was anys drevyn abak,And forton hes na return ne regres;Lat ws beseik for paix at sik distres,Mak hym request to rew apon our harmys,And reke hym furth our ryght hand bair of armys.Quhoubeit, O! wald God, in this extreme neidThat ony thyng of curage or manheidRemanyt, as was wont with ws tobe:Abuse the laif thame worthy thinkis me,Maist fortunat in fatys marcyall,And excellent in hie curage our all,Quhilk wilfully, as that thame selvyn wald,At thai ne suldyn sik myscheif behald,Fell ded to grond by fatale happy werd,And with thar mowth anys bait the erd.Bot gif we haue ryches and moblys seir,And nevir assayt ȝit fresch ȝong power,And, in our helpyng, of ItalianysCiteis and pepillys habundis and remanys;Or gif that also to the Troiane syde,With effusioun of blude and wondis wyde,This victory betyd is; trastis me,Thai haue als feill ded corpsis as haue we:Gyf this tempestuus trake of the bataleOn baith the halfis is all owt equale,Quhy failȝe we so schaymfully our mychtInto the first entre of the fycht?Quhy quakis thus our membris vp and dovn,Befor the bludy blast and trumpis sovn?For tyme, feill sys, and eik the variant chanceOf our onstabill lyfe hung in ballance,Reducit hes full mony onlykly thyngTo bettir fyne than was thar begynnyng;And fortoun interchangabill with blenkis quentFull mony ane dissauyt hes and schent,Syne eftir in a thraw, this weill I wait,Restoryt thame agane to thar ferm stait.I put the cace, set the Etholianys,With Dyomed and the pepill Arpanys,Lyst not cum in our helpyng nor suple;Ȝit than the bald Mesapus weill wylbe,And the happy Tolumnyus alsso,With all tha other dukis mony moThat fra so feill pepillys beyn hydder sent:And na litill renown, be myne entent,Followys the chosyn folkis of Italy,Nor thame that duellis in Lawrent feildis heirby.Haue we not eik the stalwart Camylla,Of the famyll and kynrent of Volsca,Ledand thir armyt ostis and stern feildis,In byrnyst plait arrayt and schynand scheldis?Bot gyf the Troiane pepill, euery ane,Desyris me to feght in feild allane,Gif that be plesand onto the, schir kyng,And I sa far, eftir Drances menyng,Gaynstandis the common weill; into that cace,That schame sal nevir betyd me in na place:For victory me hatis not, dar I say,Nor lyst syk wys withdraw thir handis twa,That I refus suld to assay ony thyngQuhilk mycht sa gret beleif of weil inbryng.With stowt curage agane hym wend I will,Thocht he in prowes pas the gret Achill,Or set in cace sik armour he weris as he,Wrocht by the handis of God Vulcanus sle.To ȝou, and kyng Latyn my fader in law,I Turnus heir, quham full weill ȝe knawNo thyng behynd, nor tobe reput les,To nane of all our eldris in prowes,This saul and life, the quhilk sa weil I lufe,Doith promys and awowis for ȝour behufe.Thai say, allone me challancis Ene;And I beseik gret God he challance me:Ne byd I not that Drances deir abyOcht with hys deth, quhar that apposit am I;Nor, quhidder this turn to Goddis wrethfull wraik,Or hardyment and honour, we ondertake,Na thing at all tharof salbe his part;The chans is myne, I will it not astart.

CAP. IX

Duryng this disputatioun, as is said,Enee hys ost abowt the town has laid.Quhill thai thus at gret altricatioun werAmangis thame self in dowtsum thingis seir,Eneas all his ost and haill armyHes rasyt, trumpyng to the town in hy.A messynger com ruschand in with haist,Amyd the rowtis ran as he war chaist,That with huge rumour and a feirfull dynFillit onon the kyngis riall In,And with gret dreid the cite stuffit alquhar;Schawand quhou that thar fays cummyn warIn plane batale arrayt, to conclude,The Troiane barnage from Tibir the flude,With ordinance of Tuscan, that dyd spreidIn forfront al the large feildis on breid.Onon the pepillis hartis effrayt wer,And commonys breistis proplexit all for feir;In sum, the greif and ire dyd fast habund,Rasyt with brethfull stangis full onsond,And with a felloun dreid all on steirThai hynt to harnes, and cryis eftir thar gere:Harnes, harnes, all the ȝong citeȝanysWith fellon brute and noys schowtis atanys;The febill and agyt faderis wobegoneCan pleyn and weip with mony a petuus grone.In euery part the gret clamour and cryisIn diuers opinionys rays vp to the skyis:Nane other wys than as sum tyme we knawThe flycht of byrdis fordynnys the thik schaw,Or than the rawk vocit swannis in a rabill,Sondand and swouchand with noys lamentabillEndlang the bemand stankis and stremys cleirOf Padusa, sa full of fyschis seir.Turnus, that fand hys tyme sa oportune,Now baldly says he, citeȝanys haue doyn;Do call ȝour consale, takis avysment,Sittand at eys ilkane say his entent,Carpys of paix, and ruys it now, lat se,Quhen that thai ȝonder invadis ȝour cuntre,Ȝour mortale fays inarmyt ȝou to assaill.Na mair he said, bot startis vp sans faill,And of the cheif palyce ischit furth in hy,Thus carpand to the noblys stud hym by:Go tyte, Volusus, to the banererisOf the Volscanys, and thame that standartis beris;Charge thame thar ensenȝeis forto rays on hycht,And in thar armour adres thar men to fyght:And ȝhe, Mesapus, Coras, and ȝour broder,The horsmen all enarmyt, ane and other,Convoys furth onto the feildis braid.A party of the citeȝanys, he said,Do stuf the entreis, and the portis defend;Sum to the towris and wall hedis ascend;The remanent of all our haill menȝe,Quhen I command, lat thame set on with me.Onon our all the cite by and byVp on the wallys ryn thai than in hy.The kyng Latyn hys consale, full onglaid,And gret materis quhilkis he begunnyn had,Left and differrit quhil ane other day,Trist in his mynd, and trublit of that delay:And mony ways hym self he accusyt,That he sa lang had slewthit and refusytTo ressaue glaidly the Troiane Ene;Repentyng sor, for weill of his cite,That he had not requirit hym and draw,Or than, to be his mawch and son in law.Sum tho, thar cite entre forto kepe,Befor the portis delvis trynschis deip;Sum to the ȝettis weltis weghty stonys,And sum gret jestis and sillys for the nonys:The bas trumpet with a bludy sovnThe syng of batell blew our all the tovn.The wallis than thai stuffit rownd abowtWith diuers sortis of mony syndry rowt:Baith wifis, barnys, childer, men, and page,Na kynd of stait was sparit tho, nor age;The hyast poynt and lattir resistensCallit euery wight to laubour and defens.The queyn also, Amata, furth can haldOnto the tempill and Pallas souerane hald,Born in hir char, and walkyng hir abowtOf matronys and nobil wemen a rowt;Offerandis and gyftis brocht with hir scho had:Nixt hand hir went Lavynia the maid,The caus of all this harm and wofull teyn,That down for schame dyd cast hyr lusty eyn.The matronys entris in the Goddis presens,And smokis the tempill with sweit vapour and sens,And reuthful vocis warpis lovd on hie.Alssone as thai attenyt the entre,O thou, said thai, Pallas armipotent,Tritonia clepit, maid, and presidentOf batale and of weris eueryone,With thy virginal handis breke ononȜon Troiane revaris wapynnys and his speir;Hym self als tyte dovn to the grund thou ber,Vndre our portis and our wallis hieDown warp hym ded, that we that sycht may se.

CAP. X

Heir Turnus and Camylla gan devysPractikis of weir, the Troianys to supprys.Turnus hym self, als fers as ony gleid,Ful bissely addressyt on his weid,Desyrus of the batale and bargane.Intil a clos curas RutilyaneBe than his body weill embrasyt had he,Hys burnyst armour, awfull for to se,With lymmys claspit in platis gilt with gold,And hed all bair; ȝit, as hym selvyn wold,Hys dedly brand he beltis by his syde;And, schynand all of brycht gold, fast can glideThrow owt the palyce ryall heir and thar,Reiosyt in his mynd, as thocht he warIn ferm beleif fortill ourset his fo:And on sik wys gan walkyng to and fro,With hart hyngand on the joly pyn.As, sum tyme, dois the curser start and ryn,That brokkyn hes his band, furth of his stall,Now gois at large out our the feldis all,And haldis towart the studis in a rage,Quhar merys rakis in thar pasturage,Or than onto the deip rynnand ryver,Quhar he was wont to drynk the watir cleir;He sprentis furth, and full provd walxis he,Heich strekand vp his hed with mony a ne,Out our his spaldis and nek lang by and byHis lokkyrrit mayn schakand wantonly:Siklyke this Turnus semys, quhar he went.And, as he bradis furth apon the bent,The maid Camylla cummis hym agane,Accumpaneit with hir ostis Volscane:Befor the portis dovn lyghtis the queyn,Quham all the rowt hes followyt bedeyn,Discendand from thar horssis esely;Syne on sic wys this lady spak on hy:Turnus, says sche, gif ony hardy wightMay traste or assure in thar awyn mycht,I vndertak, and dar promys, allaneTo mach in feild the ostis Eneadane,And baldly dar recuntir in melleAll the horsmen of the Tuscane menȝe.I the requyr, suffir me to assayWith my retenew and thir handis twayThe first danger in batale, or I stent:Byde thou behynd on fut in enbuschment,And kepe the wallis of this tovn, scho said.Turnus his eyn hes fixit on this maid,That weirlike was and awfull onto se,Syne on this maner to hir ansueris he:O thou virgyn, glory of Italy,Quhat thankis ȝeld or rendir the may I,Or quhat may I refer of thy renovn?Bot, sen thou art to all thyng reddy bovn,Surmontyng all in curage souerane,Now at this tyme of sic laubour and paynGrant me my part, so that on athir sydeBetwix ws twa the bargane be dyvyde.Hark, I sall schaw ȝou myne avys, quod he:Ȝon detestabill and myschews Enee,As that the rumour surely hes maid kend,And als my spyis schawis was thidder send,A certane horsmen, lycht armyt for the nanys,Hes send befor forto forray the planys;Hym self ascendis the hie band of the hyllBy wentis strait and passage scharp and wyll,Schaip on our cite fortocum prevely.Tharfor a prattik of weir devys will I,And ly at wait in quyet enbuschmentAt athir pethis hed or secrete went;In the how slak, be ȝonder woddis syde,Full dern I sall my men of armys hyde.Set thou apon the Tuscan horsyt rowt,With pynsellis semlyt sammyn with a schowt:The stalwart Mesapus with the sall go,The Latyn barnage, and the brethir two,Thai capitanys come fra Tyburtyn cite,With all thar ordinance and hail menȝe:Tak thou the cuyr with thame to rewle and steirAlhaill that ryall army into weir.Thus said he, and with sic wordis at schortMesapus to the fight he dyd exhort,And all his feris, syne euery capitane;And syne towart his aduersaris is gane.Thar lay a valle in a crukyt glen,Ganand for slycht till enbusch armyt men,Quham, wonder narrow, apon athir sydeThe bewys thik hampirris and doith hydeWith skowgis darn and full obscur, perfay,Quharthrow thar strekit a rod or a strait way,Ane narrow peth, baith outgang and entre,Full scharp and schrowit passage wonder sle:Abufe the quhilk, apon the hill on hycht,Quhar men may spy about a weil far sycht,Thar lyis a playn to the Troianys onknaw;Bot, quha so list towart that sted to draw,It is a stellyng place and sovir harbry,Quhar ost in stail or enbuschment may ly,Quhidder men list the bargane to abydeOwder on the rycht hand or on the left syde,Or on the hycht debait thame for the nanys,And on thar fays welt dovn weghty stanys.Thyddir ȝong Turnus held and dyd ascend,As he that all the passage weil bekend;The place he tuke, and ful prevy, onknaw,Lyggis at wait vnder the darn wod schaw.

CAP. XI

Quhou that Opis was doun from Dyane send,And of quhat kyn Camylla was discend.The meyn sesson, Latonas douchter Dyan,Within hir sete of hevynnys souerane,The swyft Opys, a nymphe ane of hir feris,Ane haly virgyne of hir sort mony ȝheris,To hir callis, rycht dolorus and onglaid,And, sychand sair, to hyr syk wordis said:O virgyn deyr, lo now, Camylla gaysTo cruell batall aganyst hyr mortal fays,And, al in vayn, with hir into syk werysOur wapynnys and our armour with hyr berys.I the declar and certifeis, quod sche,Abuf all other full deyr is sche to me:Ne this luf, suythly, is nocht cummyn of new,Nor ȝit of lait in Dyanys brest vpgrew,And with a hasty sweitnes movyt my spreit,Bot of ald kyndnes lang tyme onforleit.For quhen hir fader, Metabus the kyng,Was throw invy expellit hys ancyent ryngOf Pryvernum, and for the cruelteOf his pepill fled from that cite,With hym he bair this ȝong infant sa deir,Tobe his fallow in exill, and play feir,And eftir hir moderis name, hait Casmylla,Camylla hes clepit, a lettir tane awa.Befor hym in hys bosum he hyr bair,And socht onto the wilsum holtis hair.Hys cruel fays with thar wapynnys keynHym ombeset on all partis in teyn:With armyt men and wageouris the VolscanysSo neir almost bylappyt hym at anys,Thar was na passage quhar away to fle.For lo! amyd the went quhar etlyt he,Amasenus, that ryver and fresch flude,Abuf the brays bulryt as it war wod;From the clowdis was bryst sik spait of raynThe ryver flowis our the large plane.He, dressand hym to swym, at the bank sydeFor luf of the ȝong bab most neid abyde,And, for his deir byrdyng dredand soir,Ilk chance in haist dyd roll in his memor;And scars this sentens prent into hys mynd,Hys douchtir forto clos within the ryndAnd stalwart sapplyn or bark of cork tre:For in hys hand the self tyme had heA bustuus speir, percace, baith styth and stuyr,As he that was a worthy weriour;The schaft was sad and sound, and weill ybaik:Ywympillit in this bark tho dyd he takeHys ȝong douchter, and with hys awyn handAmyddis of this lans full suyrly band;Quhilk tasand with hys rycht hand, sone on hyeOnto the hevyn abuf thus carpys he:O blissyt maid Latonya, our alquharOf wild forestis the inhabitar,I, fader, heir professys servand to theThis tendir ȝonglyng, bund onto this tre;Fleand hys fays throw the skyis, lo,Knyt to thy schaft, lawly besekis scho.Ressaue hir, lady, and testify, God wait,As thyne alhail, onto the dedicate,Quhilk now thou seis standis in danger,Commyttit to the wyndis and the ayr.Thus said he, and onon with a swakHys gardy vp has bendit far abak,And threw the speir with all hys fors and mycht;The stremys soundyt of the schaftis flycht:Owr this fers ryver to the farthyr braThis fey onsilly bab, ȝong Camylla,Flaw knyt onto this quhirrand schaft of tre.Bot this Metabus, quhen that he dyd seThe gret pres of hys fays cum sa neir,Na langar duelt, bot swam throu the ryver;And, cummyn to his purpos blyth and glaid,The speir onon, sa buklyt with the maid,In presand onto the thrynfald Dyane,Furth of the gresy sward he has vptane.Na rurall byggyngis, nor ȝit na strang cite,Wald hym ressaue within thar wallys he,Nor, thocht thai wald hym to harbry haue tane,Hys fers mynd couth not subdew to nane:So that, in maner of hyrdis in pasturage,On wild montanys he wonnyt all his age;Quhar that his dochtyr, amang buskis ronk,In dern sladis and mony scroggy slonk,With mylk he nurist of the beistis wild,And with the pappis fosterit he his childOf savage stude meris in that forest;Oft tymys he thar breistis mylkit and prestWithin the tendir lippys of his get.And, fra the child myght fut to erd set,And with hir solis first dyd mark the grond,With dartis keyn and hedis scharply grundHir fystis and hir handis chargyt he;And at hir schuldir buklyt hes on hieAne propir bow and litil arow cace:And for hir goldyn garland or hed lace,In sted eik of hir syde garmont or pall,Our the schuldris fro hir nek down with allThe grisly tygrys skyn of rent dyd hyng.The self tyme ȝit sche bot tendir ȝonglyngThir dartis and the takillis swyft leit glyde;And oft abowt hir hed the ilk tydeWald warp the stryngis of the stowt staf slyng,Quharwith feill sys to grand ded wald scho dyngThe cran of Trace, or than the quhite swan.For nocht scho was desirit with mony a man,And moderis feill throu the townys TuscaneDesirit hir thar gud douchter, in vane:For scho only, full ferm in hir entent,Of Diane, Goddes of chastyte, stud content,And list to hant evyr in woddis with meThe dartis schutyng, and love virginyte,Remanand incorrupt and a cleyn maid.I wald, forsuyth, at this tyme scho abaid,And had not hastit to sic chevalry,Forto molest the Troianys stowt army;Bot that ane of my ferys scho suld be,As scho that is at all tyme deir to me.Haue done onon, thou nymphe Opys, scho said,With wikkyt fatis sen bestad is ȝon maid,Thou slyde down from the hevyn, and that in hy;The Latyn feildis thou vissy and aspy,Quhar, in the wofall batale and melle,To ane onhappy chance betaucht is sche.Tak thir dartis, and sone owt of my caysThat ilke revengeabill arow thou owt rays:Quha evir with wond doys hurt or violatHyr haly body onto me dedicat,Quhidder he be Troiane or Italiane,All is in like, that he onon be slane,And with hys blude myn offens deir aby.My self thar eftir the reuthfull corps in hyAmyd a boys clowd sall cary away,Onspulȝeit of hir armour or array,And hir bygrave, reducit to hir cuntre,In sepultur full gloryus, said sche.Than Opys lyghtly of the hevynnys glade,Throw owt the skyis sowchand fast doun slaid,Persand the ayr with body all ourschrowdAnd dekkyt in a watry sabill clowd.

CAP. XII

Quhou that Eneas with hys haill powerTowart the cyte wallys drawis neir.Dvryng this quhile, the Troiane power allApprochys fast towart the cite wall,The Tuscane Dukis and horsmen rowtis alhaillArrayt in batale, euery ward and staill.Our all the planys brays the stampand stedis,Full galȝeart in thar bardis and weyrly wedis,Apon thar strait born brydillis brankand fast,Now thrympand heir, now thar, thayr hedis can cast:The large grond worth grysly onto seOf steill wapynnys and scharp speir hedis hie;And as the fyre all byrnand schayn the feildisOf brycht armour, heich helmys, and braid scheildis,Aganyst thame alsso onon apperysThe bald Mesapus, valȝeant in werys;The agill Latyn pepill with hym was,And duke Catyllus, with his brother Coras,And eik the weyng of Wolscane pepill in feildWith the stowt wench Camylla vnder scheild;And furth thai streik thar lang speris weill far,Drew in thar armys with schaftis chargit on far,Tasyt vp dartis, taclys, and fleand flanys:The contyr or first tocome for the nanysFull ardent wolx, and awfull forto se,The men byrnand to joyn in the melle,And furour grew of stedis sterand on stray.Now thai, approchyng sammyn in arrayWithin ane arow schot on athyr syde,Syne maid a litill stop, and still dyd byde;Rasyt vp a schowt, bad on thame with a cry,Quhil bruyt and clamour fordynnyt the sky;Thar fers stedis dyd for the bargane cheir;On athir half thai mak a weirlike feir:And thar withall at anys on every sydisThe dartis thik and fleand takyllys glydis,As doith the schour of snaw, and with thar flychtDyrknyt the hevynnys and the skyis lyght.Tyrrhenus tho, ane of the Tuscane rowt,And Acontevs, a Rutilyane full stowt,Togidder semblyt with thar speris ran,To preif the first fall sammyn, man for man:Thai meit in melle with a felloun rak,Quhil schaftis al to schuldris with a crak;Togiddir duschis the stowt stedis atanys,That athyris contyr fruschyt otheris banys.And Aconteus, lyke to the thundris blast,Smyte from hys sadill a far way was cast,Or lyke a stayn warpyt from the engyne,That al tofruschit dovn he dyd declyne,With sik rebund and rewyne wonder sairThat he his lyfe hes sparpellit in the ayr.All suddanly the Latynys tuke affray,And gaue the bak bedeyn, and fled away,Thar scheldis our thar schuldris kest behynd,And to the tovn spurris als fers as wynd.The Troianys dyd persewyng on the chays,And fast invadis thame Prynce Asyllas.Quhen thai approchyng to the portis neir,The Latyn pepill returnys all infeir,Thar weill dantit hors nekkis quhelit abowt,Syne gaue a cry, and on thame with a schowt:The tother party than hes tane the flyght,Leit ga the brydill, and fled in all thar mycht.Lyke as the flowand sey with fludis rudeNow ruschis to the land, as it war woyd,And on the skelleys at the costis bayVpswakkis fast the fomy wallys gray,And with his jawpys coverys in and owtThe far sandis our the bay abowt;Now with swyft fard gois ebband fast abak,That with hys bulrand jaschis and owt swakWith hym he sowkis and drawys mony stayn,And levis the strandis schald and sandis plane:The Tuscane folk the Latynys on sik wysOnto the cite wallys chasyt twys;And twys thar self dyd fle and gif the bak,With scheldis at defens behynd thame swak.Bot thareftir the thryd assay thai mak,The ostis sammyn jonyt with a crak,That euery man hes chosyn hym his feir:And than, forsuyth, the granys men mycht heirOf thame that stervyn and dovn bettyn beyn,That armour, wapynnys, and ded corps bedeyn,And stedis throwand on the grond that weltis,Mydlit with men quhilk ȝald the gaste and sweltis,Bedowyn lay full deip in thar awyn blude:The stowr encressis furyus and woyd.Orsilochus, a Troiane, with all his forsDressis his lans at ane Remulus hors,For hym to meit he stude a maner feir;The hed remanyt vnder the horssis eyr.The steid enragit for the cruell dynt,And lansys vp on hycht als fers as flynt,As he that was inpacient of his wond,That Remulus down weltis on the grond.Catillus, ane of the brethir Tyberyne,Iollas down bet, and thareftir syneThe gret Hermynyus, wondir byg of corps,Bot far byggar of curage and of fors;Quhais hed and schuldris nakyt war and bare,And on his crovn bot lokrand ȝallow hair;And thocht he nakyt was, and voyd of geir,Na wond nor wapyn mycht hym anys effer:Forgane the speris so bustuus blomyt he,That this Catillus stalwart schaft of treThrow gyrdis baith hys braid schulder banys,And with the dynt stud schakand all at anys,Transfixit so, and persand euery part,It dowblis and renewys the mannis smart.The blaknyt dedly blude on athir sydeFurth ruschis owt of workand wondis wyde;The swerdis baithit wolx in bargane red;Feill corpsis kyllit in the feild fell ded,And caucht a douchty end to swelt in fyght,By hurtis feill forto manteym thar rycht.