The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

CAP. VI

Enee sair wondyt of the feild dyd pas;In quhais absens Turnus mair cruell was.Than the reuthfull and pacient Eneas,Behaldand quhou all wrang the gem dyd pas,Hys rycht hand onenarmyt, to stynt thar fed,Furth strekis, and oncoverit hes hys hed,And cryis and clepis on his pepill tho;My frendis deir, quhidder now hurl ȝe so,Ilkane aganys other? quhou may this be?Quhat has movit this hasty discord? quod he.O, stanch ȝour wraith for schame, or all is lorn!The payce and concord now is twichit and sworn,And the articulis and the lawys dyngAppunctit vp, and promist euery thing:Of det and ryght I aucht apon this landAllane Turnus recontyr, hand for hand:Suffir me perform my dereyn by and by,And do away all dreid and villany.I sall with my hand sone mak ferm and stabillOur appoyntment, for evir onvariabill;For this ilke sacrifice violate in this stedSall rendir onon Turnus to me ded.Amyd sic sawys, as he thir wordis saidForto asswage thar mynd, but mar abaidA quhirrand arrow, lo, with fedderit flychtAt swift randon dyd in hys the bayn lycht;Oncertane fra quhat hand that it was sent,Quhat kynd of schote, nor of quhat instrument.The hie glory of sa notabill a deidIs hyd, that nane knew quha it dyd but dreid,Nor wist quha wrocht had to the RutilianysSa gret wirschip and lovyng for the nanys;Quhidder it betyd on cace and aventur,Or of sum God be dispositioun suyr;Nor nevir person eftir, he nor he,Dyd hym avant he wondit had Ene.Quhen Turnus all the chiftanys trublit saw,And Eneas sair wondit hym withdraw,Than, for this hasty hope als hait as fyre,To mell in feght he caucht ardent desyre:He askis hors and harnes baith at anys,And haltandly in hys cart for the nanysHe skippis vp and musturis wantonly,Furth sprentand throu the feildis by and by,And at his will, quharso hym list tobe,With hys awyn hand the renȝeis rewlis he.And dryvand furth thus into his ireLaid feill corpsis ded, and mony bald syre;Down strowand eik vnder fut in the planeDiuers otheris ȝit throwand and half slane:Owder with his cart the rowtis he drave away,Or, as thai tuke the flycht for gret affray,Castyng speris and dartis scharp hynt he,And leit thame thik amang his fays fle.Sik wys as bludy armipotent God Mars,Besyde hys frosty flude Hebrum in Tras,Full hastely bownand to batale feild,Makis gret bruyt and clatteryng with hys scheild,Quhen he list movyng weir mast chevalrus;Furth steris hys stedis, fers and furyus,Quhilk fleys furth sa swith with mony a stendOwtour the planys at large quhar thai wend,That thai forryn and goys befor alwayȜephyrus and Nothus, swyftest wyndis tway:And, with the dyn of thar feyt and hys cart,All Trace gronys onto the ferthar part.Abowt hym walkis, as hys godly feris,Dreid with paill face, Debait, and mortale Weris,The Wraith, and Ire, and eik fraudfull Dissait,Lyggyng vndir covert at enbuschment or await.Turnus siclike, als chery, prowd, and lycht,Amyd the batale catchys to the fychtHys stedys, rekand of swete quhar thai raid.And sa baldly hys fays dyd invaid,With sik slauchter, that piete was to se;And sik deray has maid in the melle,That hys swyft stedis hovys, quhar thai went,Spangit vp the bludy sparkis our the bent,Quhil blude and brane, in abundans furth sched,Mydlit with sand vndir hors feit was tred.For he, or now, hes doun bet Sthenelus,And kyllit eik Thamyrys and Polus:The formast twa he slew machit at hand;And this Polus, as he far of dyd stand:On far eik slew he of ImbrasyusThe sonnys twa, Glawcus and Iasus,Quham this Imbrasyus fosterit had, baith twa.Into the far cuntre of Lycia,And thame instrukit had full equalyIn fait of armys, and to hant chevelry;Owder till assaill befor, or ȝit behynd,Or with swift hors for till forryn the wynd.Ȝond, in ane other part, amyd the feildThe fers Eumedes walkis vnder scheild,Quhilk was the son and air, as that thai tell,Of agit Dolon valȝeant in batell:The name he bair of hys fore grandschir wight,Bot the strang handis and stowt curage in fightOf hys awyn fader, this Dolon, he bair;Quhilk at Troy vmquhile, as the sege lay thar,Ane was of sa stowt curage and hie willThat he durst ask the chariot of AchillTo his reward, for that he sa baldlyThe Grekis tentis tuk on hand to aspy:Bot the son of Tedeus, Diomed,Ane other fassoun hes hym quyt his meidFor sa stowt ondyrtakyn, and hym sleuch:And ȝit for all his renovn, provit eneuch,Ne durst anys pretend, for all hys dedys,That he was worthy to weld Achillys stedys.Bot to our purpos; this forsaid EumedesAs Turnus dyd behald ȝond in the pres,On the plane feld thar as he dyd ryde,First weill a far way at hym leyt he glydeA fleand dart; and furth with that, rycht thar,Gan stynt hys horssis and his quhirland char,And ferely dyd lepyng from hys cart,And sone apon hys aduersar astart,Quhilk tho was fall to grond, and half deill ded:Syne with hys fut doun thryst in the ilk stedHys fair nek bayn, and owt of hys rycht handRicht austernly has he thrawyn the brand,Quhilk schynand brycht into hys throte he wet,And tharto ekyt thir wordys wondyr het:O thow prowd Troian, lyggand thar at grond,Now may thou myssour the feld at thou has fund;Lo heir the bundis, lo heir Hesperia,Quhilk thou to seik in weirfar was sa thra:Thys is the bontay thai sal bair awayThat dar with wapynnys or armour me assay!To hym in feir also has he laidWith a scharp castyn hed, but mair abaid,Ane Butys, and eftyr hym ane Chloreus,Syne Sybar, Dares, and Thersilocus,And Thymetes, a man of full gret fors,Castyn from hys staffage, skeich, and hedstrang hors.And as the blastis with thar bustuus sovnFrom mont Edon in Trace cumis thuddand dounOn the deip sey Egean fast at hand,Chasand the flud and wallys to athir land;And quhar the wyndis assalys, the suyth to say,The clowdis fleys fast our the hevyn away:The sammyn wys, quhat way at Turnus went,The rowtis red hym plane rovm on the bent,And all the ostis fast abak dyd fle;For, with sik fors and fard furth dryvys he,Hys bissy movand tymbrell euery artCatchis the wynd and ayr forgane hys cart.Phegeus, a Troiane, seand Turnus all madSa instantly assaill with strakis sad,Na langar mycht hym thoill, bot with bald hartHym self kest in the way to meit hys cart;And he the renys in hys ryght hand hynt,Syne writhit hes about, or euer he stynt,The fomy mowthis of the hasty stedis.And as this douchty man, sa gud at nedis,Thus hang and harlyt was in euery artBy the lymouris and hamys of the cart,That he hys body mycht nocht kepe nor held,To covyr with hys armour and his scheld,The speir hym followis with scharp hed and braid,And rent hys hawbrik of dowbill plyis maid,Hurt his body sum deill, nocht fully sond,Persand the hyde, and maid a litill wond.He, nocht the les, agane hys fa furth sprent,With hys braid scheild or target evir vp stent,And in hys hand held drawyn the burnyst blaid,Cryand for help his aduersar till invaid;Quham tho, allace, gret piete was to se!The quhirland quheill and spedy swyft extreSmate doun to grond, and on the erd lay plat:And, as he fell, Turnus followis with that,And evyn betwix the helm can hym arrasAnd vmast roll or hem of hys curas,Smait of his hed clenly with hys brand,And left the corps lyke a stok in the sand.

CAP. VII

Na mannys cuyr nor craft of surrurgyneMycht heill Eneas, bot Venus medycyn.And as Turnus thus in the batale stedWith the ovirhand sa feil corps laid ded,The meyn quhil Mnestheus and traste AchatesHes led the bald Eneas of the pres,Ascanyus ȝyng with thame in cumpany,And to the tentis brocht hym all bludy,With steppis slaw furth stalkand all in feir,Lenand ilk pays on a lang poyntit speir.Wod wroth he worthis, for dysdene and dispyteThat he ne mycht hys ferys succur als tyte:He wrythis, and enforsys tyll owtdrawThe schaft in brokkyn, and the hed withall:He axis help at all thar standand by,Quhat was the nerrest way and maist reddy;And bad thai suld with a scharp knyf that tydeScheir doun the wond, and mak it large and wyde,Rype to the boddum weill, and tak gude tentTo sers the hyrnys quhar that the hed was went,That thai mycht hast thame self, but mair delay,To the batale, forto stynt this effray.Now was thar than present in the presIapis, that was son of Iasides.Abuf all otheris to the God Phebus heWas best belovyt and haldyn in dante;With quhais favour vmquhile strangly caucht,This God Appollo gladly has hym tauchtHys craftis and his officis, by and by,Of diuinatioun or of augury,The musik tonys to play on harp waill sle,And forto schute and lat swyft arrowis fle.Bot this Iapis, fortill prolong, perfay,Hys faderis fatis, quhilk as bedrall layBefor hys ȝet, of hys lyfe in dispar,Had levyr haue knawyn the sciens and the lair,The myght and fors of strenthy herbys fyne,And all the cunnyng of vse of medycyne,And with sik secrete craftis prevelyTo leid hys lyfe and tyme mair esely.Eneas standis byttyrly chidand,Lenand apon a bustuus speir in hand,Amyd gret confluens of thir childer ȝyng,And eik his son Ascanyus fair wepyng;Bot he na thing hym movit at thar terys.Than this Iapis, sage and ald of ȝheris,With habyt schapyn on furrugyn mak,Vprollit weill and wymplit far abak,Rycht bissely with hys nait handis twayBegouth fortill exem, and till assayThe wond with mony crafty medycyn,And mychty herbys taucht be God Appollyn;Bot all for nocht his travale and hys pane.Oft with hys rycht hand sersis he, invane,To rype the owtgait of the wond sa wyde,And forto seik the schaft on euery syde,With hys wynrys and grippand turcas sleTo thrist the hed, and draw furth, pressis he:Bot, for na chance that evir betyd may,Wald fortoun dres hys hand the sovir way;Na thing avalyt hys crafty medycyne,Nor ocht hym helpys his master Appollyn.And now the grisly dreid, ay mair and mair,Our all the feildis walkis heir and thar,Nerrar drawys the perrell and affray;So that all dyrknyt wolx the cleir dayOf dusty puldir in the hevyn dyd stand;The horsmen all approchis fast at hand,That dartis thik amyd the tentis fell:Wofull clamour with mony cry and ȝellWent to the skyis of ȝong men faucht in feild,And thame that swelt, sair wondit vnder scheild.Venus hys moder tho, this pane to meys,Caucht rewth and piete of hir sonnys dyseys,And from the wod of mont Ida in CreitVp hes scho pullit dictam, the herb sweit,Of levis rank, rypit, and wondir fair,With sprowtis, sprayngis, and vanys our alquhar,As that we se on sik verdour spryngand,And on the top a purpour flour curland:Sik gresis gude beyn no wys onknawTo the wyld bestis, quhen that ony thrawThai with the fleand arrow beyn ourtak,The hed stikand owther in syde or bak.Thiddir brocht Venus this herb; and scho was schrowdBaith face and body, in a watry clowd;And with the herb alsso mydlit hes scheThe hailsum thryfty watir wondir sle,That from hir brycht lippys scho ȝet in hy;And temperis and enbalmys prevelyThe plastyr tharwith, strynkland all ouraneThe hailsum jus of herb ambrosian,And the weill smelland herb hait panaces.This ancyent surrigian, Iapes,With sik watir or jus, that he nocht knew,The wond mesys, and softnyt hes of new:And suddanly the payn vanyst als cleynOf hys body, as thocht it had beynBot a dyrlyng or a litill stond;All blud stanchit and stud in the deip wond.Tharwith baith hed and schaft com owt droppand,But ony pull following of manis hand,That strenth and fors of new to mak debaitRestoryt war onto thar ald estait.Harnes, harnes, bryng hym hydder in hy!Quhy stand ȝe sa? Iapis gaue a cry;And with this word aganyst thar fays heHes first thar spreit inflammyt to melle.O Eneas, quod he, I mak ȝou suyr,Throw manis mycht was neuer wrocht this cuyr,Nor be na mastir craft of medycyne;Thou art not helyt by this hand of myne,Bot be sum grettar God, full weill I se,The quhilk to grettar workis preservis the.Eneas tho, desyrus of bargane,Hys lymmys in legharnes gold beganeClaspyt full clos, and dyd hym self array;Bad speid in haist, for he hatit delay:He schuke and branglit fast his speir that tyde.And eftir hys active scheild was by his sydeCowchit full meit, and on his bak full thikSesyt his curace or hys fyne hawbrik,Ascanyus ȝyng tendirly the ilk place,With all his harnes bilappit, dyd embrace,And throw his helmys ventall a litill weHym kyssyt hes; syne on this wys said he:O thou my child, do lernyng, I the pray,Vertu and verray laubour till assayAt me, quhilk am thy fader, as thou wait;Desyre tobe chancy and fortunateAs othir pryncis, quhilkis mair happy beyn.Now sall my rycht hand thy querrell susteyn,And the defend in batale by and by,To mak the partisman of gret senȝeory.Do thou siclyke, I pray the, myne awyn page,Als fast as thou cumis to perfyte age,Ramembir heiron, and revolue in thy myndThy lynage, thy forbearis, and thy kynd;Exempill of prowes in the steris frendis befor,Baith fader Eneas and thyne vncle Hector.

CAP. VIII

Juturna gydys hir brotheris cart rycht sleFrawart the batel, he suld nocht mache Enee.Quhen this was said, furth at the portis hee,Schakand in hand a gret speir, ischit he:With hym also to the feild ruschis owtAnteus, Mnestheus, and ane full thyk rowt;Alhaill the barnage flokkis furth atanys,Left voyd the tovn and strenth with wasty wanys.Than was the playn ourset, quha com behynd,With dusty stew of puldyr maid folk blynd,And, for stampyng and fell dynnyng of feyt,The erd movit and trymlyt euery streyt.Turnus, apon the party our rycht forgane,Persauyt thame thus sterand throw the plane,Thame saw also the pepill Ausonyanys,And the cald dreid for feir ran throw thar banys.First of the Latynys all, this ilke maidJuturna thame knew, and was not glaid;Scho hard the soundis and the fell deray,And quakand fast for feir hes fled away.Bot this Eneas, full bald vndyr scheild,With all hys ost drave throw the plane feld,And with hym swyftly bryngis our the bentA rowt coill blak of the stew, quhar he went.Lyke as the bub or plaig of fell tempest,Quhen that the clowdis brekis est or west,Dryvys by fors throw the sey to the land,Doand the cayrfull husbandis vnderstandThe gret myscheif tocum, and felloun wraik;Quhilk, with fair hartis quakand, allake, allaik!Says, lo ȝon bub sall stryke dovn growand treys,Doun bet our cornys, and by the ruyt vpheis,And far onbreid ourturn all doys vpstand:Hark! heir the swouch cumis brayand to the land.On siclyke wys this ilk chiftane TroianThe corsy pasand Osyris hes slane:Mnestheus kyllyt Archet, and AchatesByhedit has the wight Epulones;Gyas doun bet Vfens the gret captane;Dovn fell also the gret augurian,Tolumnyus him self, that the ilk dayThrew the first dart hys fays till assay.Vprysis than the clamour, and a scryQuhilk semyt wend onto the starnyt sky.Thar curs abowt than the RutilianysHes tane the flyght, and gave the bak atanys,Skatterit throw owt the feldis heir and thar,Quhil stovr of puldir vpstrikis in the air.Bot the chiftane, this vailȝeant Ene,Dedenȝeit nane doun bet as thai dyd fle,Ne thame invaid that met hym face for face,All thocht thai fawght with wappyn, swerd or mace;Bot throw the thikast sop of dust in hyOnly Turnus went to seik and aspy,And hym allane, accordyng the tretye,He askis and requiris into melle.With dreid heirof the mynd was smyttyn soOf Juturna, the verray virago;Quhilk term to expone, be myne avys,Is a woman exersand a mannys offys;Amyd the lyamys and the thetis tharDoun swakkis scho Metiscus the cartar,That Turnus char had forto rewle on hand,And left hym lygand far ȝond on the land,Fra the cart lymmowris warpit a gret way;And scho, in sted, hys office dyd assay,And with hir handis abowt writhis scheThe flexibill renys frawart the melle,Berand the lyknes in all maner thingOf Metiscus voce, person, and armyng.Als feill wrynklis and turnys can scho makAs dois the swallow with hir plumys blak,Fleand and seirsand swiftly thar and heirOur the gret lugyngis of sum myghty heir,Apon hir weyngis scummand euery sydeThir heich hallys, bene full large and wyde,Gadderand the small morcellis est and westTo bair hir byrdis chepand in thar nest;Now into gowsty porchis doith scho fle,Now by the donky stankis soundis sche:In siclike wys this Juturna belyfeThrow owt the ostis gan the horssis dryfe,Circuland abowt with swift fard of the cartThe feildis our all quhar in euery art,And schew hir bruthir Turnus in his char,Now brawland in this place, now voustand thar;Na be na way wald scho suffir that heAssembill hand for hand suld with Enee;Bot fled hym far, and frawart hym held ay,Writhand hir cartis curs ane other way.In na les haist Eneas on the bentHys quhelys turnys and writhis mony a went;The man he seirsis throw the effrait routis,And on hym callis with lowd cry and hie schowtis.And als feill sys as he his eyn kestApon his fa, al tymys he hym adrestTo chas hym with swyft curs throu the melle,On hors that semyt ryn as fowle dois fle;Bot evir als oft Juturna ane other artAwaywart turnys and writhis hyr broderis cart.And thus Eneas remanys all on flochtIn syndry motioun of ire, bot all for nocht:Allace! ne knawis he not now quhat to do:Diuers thochtis, and seir consatis, lo,Hys mynd in mony contrar purpos sent.And as he thus was trublit in entent,Mesapus, that on cace was neirhand by,And in hys left neif haldis all reddyTwa sowpill castyng speris hedit with steill,Of quham that ane full sovirly and weillTowart Ene addressit leit he glyde.Eneas hovit still the schote to abyde,Hym schrowdand vndir his armour and his scheild,Bowand hys howch, and stude a litill onheld:And, netheles, this speir, that scharply schar,Of hys basnet the tymbrell quyte doun bair,And smait away the creistit toppis hie.Than mair in greif and ire vpgrowis he,Seand hym catchit with dissait and slycht,Quhen that he hes persauyt in his sychtTurnus horsis drevyn ane other art,Awaywart turnyng sa feill sys his cart:Tho mony tymys lowd did he testifyGret Jupiter, quhou that sa wrangwislyHe was iniurit, and constrenyt to fight;To witnes drew he als with gret onrychtThe altaris of considerans violate;And now at last, full furyus and hait,The mydwart of his ennemys dyd invaid:With prospir chance of batale, sa onglaidAnd terribill to his fays walxis he,That hail, but ony differans of degre,All goith to wraik; for na man list he spair:A cruell slauchter he hes rasit thar.All kynd of wreth and breithfull ire now heLeyt slyp at large, but brydill, with renȝeis fre.

CAP. IX

Heir followys of the slauchter monyfaldMaid by Turnus and be Eneas bald.Quhat God sall now me techyng to enditeSa mony wondis and this cairfull syte?Or quha me lern in metyr to declarSa feill and diuers slauchteris as was thar,And gret deces of dukis in that sted,Our all the feildis strowyn lyggis ded,Quham euery ane sammyn hys curs abowtNow down bet Turnus, now Eneas stowt?O Jupiter, was it plesand to the,With sa gret motioun of crudelyteAthir pepill suld rusch on other in pres,Quhilkis eftir suldbe ane in etern pes?Eneas first, that tareit not to lang,Smate ane Sucron, a Rutilian strang;A grevous wond he hyt hym in the syde,Throw owt hys rybbys can the stif swerd glide,Persyt hys cost and breistis cundyt in hy,Thar as the fatale deth is maste hasty:This bargane first fermyt Troianys to stand,That langeir fled Turnus fra hand to hand.Tho Turnus has rencontyrit in the presAmycus, and hys brother Diores,Quham, fra thar horssis on the grond doun bet,On fut in feild strangly he ombeset:And the formast with a lang stif speirSmate ded, and with a swerd the tother in feir,Syne baith thar hedis hakkit of in hy,And at his cart thame hyngis by and by,The blude tharfra dreippand, tursys away.The self stound Eneas at ane assay,Or ane onset, hes kyllit Tanaus,Talon also, and the stowt Cethegus;Syne, eftyr thame, he kyllyt in the presThe sad and ay sorofull Onytes,Renownyt of Thebes blude, and the ofspryngDiscendyng down from Echion the kyng,And of hys moder born, Peridia.This othir chiftane, Turnus, killit twa,That brethir war, and owt of Lycia send,Appollois cuntre, Troianys to defend;And eftir thame ane Meneit hes he slane,A ȝong man that was born ane Archadane,That all his days evir hatit the melle,Bot all for nocht, for he most neid thus de:About the laik of Lern and fludis grayHys craft was forto fyschyng euery day;A puyr cote hous he held, and buyr hym law;Rewardis of rich folkis war to hym onknaw;Hys fader eyrit and sew ane peys of feld,That he in hyregang held tobe his beild.And lyke as that the fyre war new vpbet,And in sum dry wydderit wod vpset,Baith heir and thar, at diuers partis seir,Amyd the sovndand buskis of lawrer;Or quhar the fomy ryveris, red on spait,Hurlys doun from the month a large gait,With hydduus bruyt and felloun fard atanys,Thar as thai ryn ourflowand all the planys;Ilkane distroys, wastis, and dryvis awayAll that thai fynd befor thame in the way:Na slawar baith this Turnus and EneHurlys and ruschis fers throw the melle.Now, now, the brethfull ire and felloun thochtWithin thar myndis boldynnys all on flocht,And tha breistis, can na wys venquyst be,Now bristis full of greif and cruelte;Now lasch thai at with bludy swerdis brycht,Fortill mak wondis wyd in all thar mycht.The tane of thame, that is to knaw, Enee,Kyng Murranus, of anchestry maist hie,Sovndand the name of his forfaderis ald,Our all the clan of Latyn kyngis baldObservyt man by man onto his day,Furth of hys cart hes smyttyn quyt away,And bet hym doun onto the erd wyndslaucht,With a gret roik or quhirrand stane ourraucht;That this Murranus the renys and the thetis,Quharwith hys stedis ȝokkit war in thretis,Vndyr the quhelis hes do weltit doun;Quhar, as he lyggis in hys mortall swoun,Of hys awyn stedis abuf hym rap for rapThe sterand hufis, stampand with mony clap,Ourtreddis and doun thryngis thar master law,And gan thar lordis hie estait mysknaw.And Turnus hes recontryt ane Hilo,That ruschand hurlit throw the melle tho,Full fers of muyd and austern of curage:Bot this Turnus, for all hys vassalage,At hys gilt halssettis a grundyn dart dyd thraw,That fixit throu hys helm the schaft flaw,Persand hys brane, quhill owt bruschit the blude.Nor thy rycht hand, Creteus, sa gude,Thou forcyast Greik, cumyn from Archad land,Mycht the deliuer from this ilk Turnus brand:Nor all hys goddis Cupencus in the planeMyght defend from Ene, com hym agane,Bot at hys breist with the steill poynt is met,That thirlyt hes throu all, and hym doun bet,That nother scheild nor obstant plait of steillThis catyvis breist hes helpit neuir a deill.O Eolyn, the feildis LawrentaneHes the behald tharon dovn bet and slane,And with thy braid bak in thy rich weidThe grund thou hes byspred rycht far onbreid:Thar lyis thou ded, quham Gregioun ostis in fyghtNothir venquys nor to the erth smyte mycht,Nor fers Achilles to the grund couth bryng,That was ourquhelmar of kyng Pryamus ryng:Heir war thy methis and thy term of ded:The hous and famyll or the nobill stedOf thy kynrent stant vndir mont Ida,In the gret cyte of Lyrnessia;Bot in the feildis of Lawrentane sulȝeThy sepultur is maid for ay tobe.Apon this wys the ostis and wardis haillOn athir part returnyt in bataill,Aganyst othir to feght sammyn attanys,All the Latynys and alhaill the Troianys;Duke Mnestheus, and the stern Serestus,And, on the tother half, prynce Mesapus,That of gret hors the dantar clepit was,And with hym eik the stalwart Asylas,The Tyrreyn rowtis semblit all atanys,And kyng Evandrus army Archadianys:Euery man for hym self, as he best mycht,At the vtyrrans of all hys fors gan fyght.No rest nor tary was, thai so contend,Sum to confoundyng all, sum to defend.

CAP. X

Quhou Eneas segit the tovn agane,And queyn Amata hir self for wo has slayn.At this tyme, the bargane induryng thus,Eneas moder, the farest dame Venus,Into hys mynd scho has put this entent,To hald onto the wallys incontinent,And steir hys ost the cyte till assayWith hasty onset and suddane affray,At gret myscheif the Latynys to effeir,Quhilk of hys cummyng tho onwarnyt wer.And as at he held movyng to aspyTurnus throu syndry rowtis by and by,On euery syde he has castyn hys E;And at the last behaldis the cite,Saikles of batale, fre of all syk stryfe,But payn or travale, at quyet man and wyfe.Than of a grettar bargane in hys ententAll suddanly the figour dyd imprent:He callys Mnestheus and eik Sergestus,Chiftanys of hys ost, and strang Serestus,And on a lytill mote ascendit in hy,Quhar sone forgadderit all the Troian army,And thik abowt hym flokkyng can, but baid;Bot nother scheld nor wapynnys doun thai laid.And he amyddis on the knollis hightOnto thame spak thus, herand euery wight:Heir I command no tary nor delayBe maid of my preceptis, quhat I sal say,Nor se that na man be sweir nor slaw to ryn;Till our hasty onset we will begyn,Sen Jupiter assistis onto our syde.Now harkis quhat I purpos do this tyde:This day I sal distroy and cleyn bet dounOf Lawrent haill the cite and the tovn,Quhilk is the caus of all our werying,And quyte confund the kyng Latinus ryng,Les than thai wil ressaue the bridill at hand,Be at obeysans, and grant my command;And ȝon hie turrettis, and tha toppis hieOf rekand chymnais ȝondir, as we se,I sal mak plane and equale with the grond.Quhat suld I tary or delay a stond,Abydand heir into sik plyte, quod he,Quhil Turnus lyst feght with ws in melle;Or quhil that he, ane other tyme aganeOurcum and venquyst into batale plane,May haue refuge to this tovn to releif,Syne eftir in feild vs recontyr and greif?O citeȝanys, the hed is this citeOf our weirfair, and cheif of iniquyte:Turs thiddir in hy the hait byrnand fyre brandis,And with the blesand flawmys in ȝour handisRenewys and requir agane, said he,The trety sworn and promyst ȝou and me.Quhen this was said, thai put thame in array,Togiddir all the cite tyll assay:Thai pyngill thraly quha mycht formest beWith dowr myndis onto the wallys hie;Knyt in a sop, with gret pissans thai thristThe leddyrris to the wallys, or ony wist,And hasty fyre blesis dyd appeir.Sum otheris of the Troianys ruschit infeirOnto the portis, and the first thame metHes kyllyt at the entre and doun bet:Sum otheris schutis dartis, takillis, and flanys,At thame quhilkis on the barmkyn hed remanys,That with the flycht of schaftis heir and tharThai dyrknyt all the skyis and the air.Ene hym self with the formast can standVndyr the wallys, puttand to hys handTo the assalt, and with lowd voce on hieThe kyng Latinus fast accusys he;Drawand the Goddys to wytnes, quhou aganeHe is constrenyt on fors to move bargane;And quhou at the Italianys, thus twysAt syndry tymys, schew thame hys ennemys;And how falsly that day thai brokyn hadThe secund consideratioun sworn and maid.Amang the citeȝanys, into gret affray,Vprais discord in mony syndry way:Sum bad onclos the cite, and als fastWarp vp the portis, and wyde the ȝettis castTo the Troianys, and thar gret prynce EneRessaue as for thar kyng in the cite;Otheris start to thar wapynnys and thar geir,Forto defend thar tovn in feir of weir:As we may geif a symylitude, wail lykeQuhen that the hyrd hes fund the beys byke,Closit vnder a dern cavern of stanys,And fillit hes full sone that litill wanysWith smoik of sowr and byttir rekis stew;The beys within, affrayt all of new,Ourthwort thar hyvis and walxy tentis rynnys,With mekill dyn and bemyng in thar innys,Scharpand thar stangis for ire, as thai wald fycht:Swa heir, the laithly odor rais on hychtFrom the fyre blesis, dyrk as ony roik,That to the ruffis toppys went the smoik;The stanys warpit in fast dyd rebund,Within the wallis rays gret bruyt and sound,And vp the reik all void went in the air,Quhar as na tenementis stud nor howsis war.Betyd alsso to thir wery Latynys,Quhilk so irkit at sik myscheif and pyne is,Ane chance of mysfortoun, that all the tovnWith womentyng straik to the boddum doun.For as the queyn Amata saw syk wysThe cyte ombeset with ennemys,The wallys kyndlyt be with flambys heit,The fyre blesis abuf the ruffis gleyt,Na Turnus army cumand thame aganys,Nor ȝit nane ostis of Rutilianys;Scho, full onhappy, in the batell stedWenyt ȝong Turnus feghtand had bene ded:And tho for verray sorow suddanly,Hyr mynd trublit, gan to rame and cry,Scho was the caus and wyte of all this greif,Baith crop, and ruyte, and hed of sik myscheif;And in hir dolorus fury thus myndles,All enragit for duyll tho dyd expresFull mony a thing, and reddy to de with allRent with hir handis hyr purpour weid ryall,And at ane hie balk teyt vp scho hasWith a lowp knot a stark cord or a las,Quharwith hir self scho spilt by schamefull ded.And fra the Latyn matronys, will of red,Persavit hes this vile myschewos wraik,Thai rent thar hair, with harrow, and allaik!Hyr douchter first besyde the ded corps standis,Ryvand hyr gyltyn tressys with hir handis,Hyr rosy chekis to tor and scartis sche:Than all the laif, that piete was to se,Of ladeis that about the ded corps stud,Rentis and ruggis thame self as thai war wod,That of thar gowlyng, greting, and deray,The large hald resundis a far way,Quhil from the kyngis palyce inverounDywlgat went and spred our all the tovneThe fey onhappy fame of sik a deid;Than euery wight tynt hart for wo and dreid.With habyt rent kyng Latyn on the gaitWalkis wobegone, astonyst of the faitOf hys deir spous, and of the cite syne,That semyt brocht onto fynall ruyne:Hys canos hair, sair movit in hys entent,With onclene puldyr has he all bysprent,And mony tymys hym selvyn hes accusyt,That he sa lang had lachit and reffusytTo ressaue glaidly the Troiane Ene;Repentyng sair, for weill of the cyte,That he had nocht requirit hym, and drawOr than tobe his mawche and son in law.