The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse
полная версия
Аннотация
Читать онлайн
- -
- 100%
- +
CAP. VII
Eneas, at his moderys commandment,Cled with the mysty clowd, to Cartage went.Thai, in the meyn tyme, hastit furth thar wayAs the rod led thame, quhil ascend ar thaiThe hill fer rysand abuf the town on hycht,Quhar all the Cite forgane thame se thai mycht.Eneas wondrit the gretnes of Cartage,Quhilk lait tofor had beyn ane smal cotage;The fair portis alsso he ferleit fast,And of the brute of pepill tharat inpast,The large stretys paithit by and by,The byssy Tyrryanys lauborand ardently.Ane part haistis to beild the wallys wight;And sum to rays the gret castell on hyght,And welt vp stanys to the wark on hie;Sum grathis fast the thak and rufe of tre;And sum about delvys the fowsy deip;Sum chesis officeris the lawys forto kepe,With counsalouris and senatouris, wys folkis;Ȝonder other sum the new havyn holkis;And heir alsso, ane other end fast by,Lays the fundament of the theatry;And otheris eik the huge pillaris greteOut of the querrellys gan do hew and bete,Fortill adorn that place in all degre,In tyme cummyng quhar gret triumphe suldbe.Lyke to the beys, in feildis floryst new,Gaderyng thar wark of mony diuers hew,In soft somyr the brycht son hait schynyng,Quhen of thar kynd thame list swarmys furth bryng,Or in camys inclus thar hwny cleyn,And with sweit liquour stuffis thar cellis scheyn,Or ressavys the byrdyngis from othir tharowt,Or fra thar hyve togyddir in a rowtExpellis the bowbart beist, the faynt drone be:Thar labour is bissy and fervent forto se,The hwny smellys of the sweit tyme seid.O, quod Ene, full happy ar ȝhe in deid,Quhais large wallis rysys thus on hie!A quhile he visseit the boundis of this cite,Ane wonder thyng, coverit with a clowd about;He entrys syne amyd the thikast rowt,Amang the men he thrang, and nane hym saw.Amyd the cite stude ane semly schaw,With hys maist plesand sobir schaddowis, quhar,As the Punycianys first vpwarpit war,Efter the stormys blastis and seys rage,Thai, delvand, fand the takynar of Cartage,Ane mekill hors hed that was, I weyn,As Juno had schaw tofor, of goddis queyn,That signyfyit the cite excellent in batale,And plentuus eik al tymys of vittale.In the ilke place, the Sydonas DidoBegouth to byg a prowd tempill of Juno,With dowreis seir and gyftis of ryches,And eik the goldyn statw of the goddes.The entre rays with hie stagis of bras,With bras alsso the cupplys festynyt was;The brassyn durris jargis on the marbill hirst.In this tempill, seir novelteis firstSchawin till Eneas mesyt gretly hys feir;The first assurance of comfort was heir,And hope of releif eftir aduersite:For as he went diuers thingis to se,Rowmyng about the large tempill scheyn,Forto behald the cummyng of the queyn,And of the cite the gret prosperite,The mony warkmen, and thar craftis sleIn dew proportioun, as he woundrit for joy,He saw per ordour all the sege of Troy,The famus batellis, wlgat throu the warld or this,Of kyng Pryam and athir Attrides,And, baldar than thame baith, the fers Achill.He styntis, and wepand said Achates tyll;Quhou now, quhilk place is this, my frend, quod he,Quhat regioun in erd may fundyn beQuhar our mysforton is nocht fully proclame?Allace! behald, se ȝondir king Priam,Lo, heir his wirschip is haldin in memor;Thir lamentabyll takynnys passit beforOur mortal myndis aucht to compassioun steir.Away with dreid, and tak na langar feir;Quhat! wenys thou na this fame sall do the gude?Thus said he, and fed hys mynd, quhar he stude,With thir plesand fenȝeit ymagery,Murnand sair, and wepand tendyrly,The flude of terys halyng our hys face;For as he lukit on the wark percace,He saw porturate quhar, in sik a place,The Grekis fled and Troianys followis the chaceAbowt the wallys of Troy as thai dyd fyght:At ȝondir part the Troianys tak the flycht,With creste on hed Achillis in hys chairPersewand strangly. Not far thens saw he, quhar,The quhite tentis of kyng Rhesus, evill kepe,Betraisit war apon the first sleip;Quhar, with gret slauchter bludy DiomeidDistroyt all, and till hys tent gan leidThe mylk quhite horssis, fers, swift and gude,Or evir thai taistit ony Troiane fude,Or drunkyn had of the flude Exanthus.And ȝondir, lo! beheld he TroilusWantyng his armour, the fey barn fleand,Fortill recontyr Achilles onganand,The hors hym harland behynd the void cartHyngand wyde oppyn, and hys hed dounwart;Suppos he held the renȝeis fast, but faill,Hys nek and harys on the erd gan traill,The speir ourturnyt in the duste dyd write.The sammyn tyme, the Troian madynys quhite,With hair doun skalit, all sorofull gan pasOnto the tempill of the grevit PallasTo ask supple, with thame a wympill bair thai,With handis betand thar breistis by the way:This fremmyt goddes held hir eyn fixt fastApon the grund, nocht a blenk list thame cast.Abowt the wallis of Troy he saw quhat wysAchilles harlyt Hectoris body thrys;The ded corps syne for gold he saw hym sell.Law from his breist murnand he gave a ȝell,Seand the void cart, and spulȝe of the knycht,And the corps of his derrest frend sa dight.Priam onarmyt streke furth handis dyd he spyFrom Achilles hys sonnys body to by.Hym self alsswa, mydlit, persavit he,Amang princis of Grece in the melle.The orient hostis knew he one by one,And Vlcanus armour on blak Memnon.The madynnys cum fra Amason saw he soyn,With crukit scheildis schapyn like the moyn,Led by thar furyus queyn Pantissylle;Amyd the thowsandis egyrly feghtis sche,And quhar hir pap was for the speir cut away,Of gold tharon was belt a rych tyschay:Ane worthy weriour suythly thai mycht hir ken,This wench stowtly recontir durst with men.CAP. VIII
Heir to the tempil cummys queyn Dido,Quhar that Enee his feris fand alsso.Quhill as the manfull Troian EneasTo se thir nyce figuris thocht wonder was,And as he musyt, studyand in a stairBot on a sycht quharon he blenkit thar,The queyn Dido, excellent in bewte,To tempill cumis with a fair menȝeOf lusty ȝyngkeris walkyng hir about.Lyke to the goddes Dian with hir rowt,Endlang the flude of Eurot on the bra,Or vndir the toppis of hir hill Cynthia,Ledand ryng dansys, quham followis our alquharA thousand nymphis flokkyng heir and thair:On hir schulder the arrow cace baris sche,And quhar scho walkis abufe the laif on hieMay weil beseyn; to Latone hir moder thisGevis reiosyng and secrete hartis blys:Sikane was Dido, sykane hir blithly bairAmyd thame all, the warkis and weilfairProviding for the realm in tyme tocum.And quhen sche to the tempill dur is cum,Syne entryng vnder the myd volt, tuke hir seteHeich in a trone, and cumpaneis greteOn athir half standyng of armyt men,The domys and law pronuncis sche to thame then:The feys of thar labouris equalyGart distribut; gif dowt fallis tharby,Be cut or kavill that pled sone partit was.Bot suddanly persavis EneasQuhar with gret haist com rynnyng Antheus,Sergest he seis, and stalwart Cloanthus,With diuers otheris of the Troian menȝe,Quham the blak storm had skatterit on the see,And at ane other cost drevyn to the land.He and his fallow awondris this seand.Achates half estonyst stude in affray;With feir and joy smyttin baith war thai,And langit fair to schaik handys; bot thar hartThe onkouth cace amovit in sum partForto dissymyll, as na thing seyn thai had,And, with the dyrk clowd hyd, to spy thai baidQuhou it stude with thar ferys, or chansyt eft,Or on quhat cost thar navy thai had left,Quhat thai desyrit; for, as full weill thai saw,From thar schippis per ordour thai com on raw,Besekand grace and peax fast, as thame thocht,And to the tempill with gret clamour socht.Fra thai war enterit in the tempill tho,And licens grantit thame to speke alsso,The gretast oratour, Ilioneus,With plesand voce begouth his sermond thus;O hie princes, quhamto Jupiter has grantTo beld ane new cyte, and to dantThe violens of prowd folk by just law,We wrachit Troianys, with the wyndis blawThrou strange stremys and mony diuers see,Forbyd ȝon cruell fyre, besekis the,Suffir not to byrn our schippis in a rage,Haue reuth apon our petuus auld lynage.Considir frendly our mater quhou it standis;We com nocht hiddir with drawyn swerdis in handis,To spulȝe templis or ryches of Lybia,Nor by the cost na spreth to dryve away;Sik violens nane within our myndis is,Nor sa gret stowtnes to venquyst folk, I wys.Thar is a place quham the Grekis, thai say,Onto hys name clepis Hesperia,Ane nobill land, richt potent in bataill,And fructuus grond, plentuus in vittaille,By kyng Onotryus inhabit first, we trow;Bot in our days laitly, the fame is now,Eftir thar duke it is namyt Italy.Thidderwart our cours was laid: quhen suddanlyThe flude boldnyt, and stormy OrionAmang blynd bankis cachit ws onon;The byttir blastis, contrarius al ways,Throw wallis huge, salt fame, and wilsum wais,And throw the perrellus rowkis gan ws dryve;Hidder at ȝour cost ar few of ws arryve.Quhat kynd of pepill duellis heir? quod he,Quhou beyn sik thewis sufferit in this cuntre?We ar defendit to herbry on the sand,Prouokyt eik to batale, and, drevyn to landBy fors of storm, the slyke thai ws deny.Albeit the strenth of men ȝhe set not by,And mortal weris contempnys and comptis nocht,Belevis weill ȝit than, and haue in thocht,The goddis sall remember, trastis me,Baith of gud dedis and iniquite.To ws was kyng the worthy Eneas,Ane justar man in all the warld nane was,Nor mair reuthfull, nor wisar into weir,And mair valiant in dedis of armys seir:Quham gif the fatis alyve conservit haithTo tak this hevinly ayr and draw his braith,And not with cruell gostis hyd vnder erd,We neid not dreid, sall nocht mak ws efferd;Nor thou sall neuer repent the sykkyrlyTo schaw ws first frendschip and curtasy.Into the realm of Sycill als haue weFrendis and citeis, with armyt men plente,And of the Troian blude Acestes kyng.Gyf ws war levit our flote on land to bryng,That with the wynd and storm is all to schaik,And grantit eik wod leif to hew, and takeTymmyr to beit ayrris and other mysteris,So that our kyng we mycht fynd and our feris,Blithly we suld hald towart Italy,And to the cost of Latium seik in hy:Bot gif our weilfar and beleve cleyn gayn is,And the, maist souerane fader of ws Troianys,The Lybian sey withhaldis, gif thou be gone,Nor of Ascanyus comfort remanys none,Than suythly, at the leste, the Sycill seeAnd placis reddy fra quham hidder drevin ar we,We sall seik, and to the kyng Acestes.Thus said Ilioneus, and sa can he ces;Bot than the noys rays amang the Troianys,Thai murmuryt and complenyt all at anys.Than schortly Dido spak with vissage doun cast,Remove all dreid, Troianys, beis nocht agast,Pluk vp ȝour hartis, and hevy thochtis dovn thring.Ane hard myschans and novelte of this ryngConstrenys me sik mastry forto schaw,And with discurriouris kepe the cost on raw.Quha knawys nocht the lynnage of Enee?Or quha myskennys Troy, that ryall cyte?The gret wirschip of sik men quha wald nocht meyn?And the huge ardent batalys at thar has beyn?We Phenycianys nane sa blait breistis hes,Nor so fremmytly the Son list nocht addresHys curs frawart Cartage cyte away.Quhiddir ȝhe will to gret Hesperia,The grund of Saturn, quhilk now is Italy,Or to the cost of Sycill fast tharby,And at the kyng Acestes lyst ȝou be,Thidder sall ȝhe suyrly pas with my supple;I sall support ȝou with all geir may gayn.And ples ȝhe with me in this realm remane,The cyte quhilk I byg is ȝouris fre;Bryng in ȝour schippis hidder from the see;Betwix a Troiane and ane TyrrianeNa differens, all sall I rewle as ane;And, with this sammyn wynd hidder blaw in feir,Wald God Enee ȝour kyng war present heir!Endlang the costis and far partis of LybyI sall forsuyth exploratouris send to spyIn ony wod gyf that he be vpdryve,Or ȝit perchance at ony cyte arryve.CAP. IX
Quhou Eneas with all his rowt bedeneWar thankfully ressauyt of the queyn.With thir wordis the spreit of EneasAnd of the strang Achates reiosyt was,Gretly desyryng the clowd to brek in tway:Bot first Achates till Enee gan say;Son of the goddes, quhat purpos now, quod he,Rysys in thy breist? All is sovir, thou may se,Thyne navy and thy ferys recoverit beyn,Wantand bot ane, amang the fludis greynQuham we saw droun; all other thingis, thou knawis,Is now conform onto thy moderis sawys.And scarsly haith he all thir wordis spokkyn,Quhen that the clowd abowt thame swith was brokkyn,And vanyst tyte away amang the ayr.Vp stude Enee, in cleir lycht schynyng fair,Lyke till ane god in body and in face;For his moder grantit hir son sik grace;Hys crysp harys war plesand on to se,Hys favour gudly, full of fresch bewte,Lyke till ane ȝongker with twa lauchand eyn;Als gracyus for to behold, I weyn,As evoir boyn by craft of hand weill dycht,Or as we se the burnyst siluer brycht,Or ȝit the quhite polist marbill stane schyne,Quhen thai beyn circulit about with gold sa fyne.Or evir thai wist, befor tham all in hy,Onto the queyn thus said he reuerently;Hym quham ȝe seik behald now present heir,Enee the Troian, delyverit from dangerOf storm and wallys of the Libiane see.O thou only, quhilk rewth hes and pieteOn the ontellabill pyne of the Troianys,Quhilk ws, the Grekis levyngis and remanys,Ourset with all maner necessiteis,And euery perrell baith be landis and seis,Within thy cyte ressauys till herbry,And to famyliar frendschip and ally;To quyte the, rendring ganand thankis rycht,That lyis nocht, Dido, intill our mycht,Nor all the laif of the Troian menȝe,Throw out this warld skatterit quhar euer thai be:Bot the hie goddis, gif ony deite takis tentTo thame at petuus beyn and pacient,For justice eik gif euer reward beis get,And rychtwys myndis ramembrit and nocht forȝet.Thai ilke goddis mot dewly reward theAccordyng thy desert in all degre.Quhou happy and joyus was that tyme sereneThat the producit hes, sa nobill a queyn!Quhou wirschipfull eik war thai parentis of mychtQuhilk the engendrit hes, sa worthy a wight!Quhill fludis rynnys in the sey but dowt,Quhil sonnys schaddow circlys hillis about,And the firmament starris doith conteyn,Thy honour and thy fame sall evir be grene,And thy renown remane perpetualy,Throu all realmys quharto that drevyn am I.Thus sayand, til his frend IlioneusHys rycht hand gave he, and to SerestusGave his left hand; syne welcumit euery man,The strang Cloanthus and the stowt Gyan.The queyn Dido, astonyst a litill wieAt the first syght, behaldand his bewte,Awondring be quhat wys he cummyn was,Onto him thus scho said with myld face;Son of the goddes, quhat hard aduersiteThrow owt so feill perrellis has cachit the?Quhat fors and violens drave the hyddir till ws,Apon thir costis that beyn so dangerus?Art thou not theilk compacient Eneas,That apon haly Venus engendrit wasBe the Troian Anchises, as thai say,Besyde the flude Symois in Phrigia?Weill I remembir, to Sydon the cyteSen Tewcer com, banyst from his cuntre,Sekand supple at Belus, and sum new land.My fader than, Belus, I vndirstand,The rich realm of Cipir wastit by weir,And wan it syne, and gave it to Tewcer;And evir syne of Troy, that gret cyte,The distructioun has beyn weill knaw to me,Thy name alsso, and pryncis of Grece sans faill,With quham thou faught seir tymys in batale.This ilke Tewcer hys ennemys of TroyRusyt and lovit, and with excellent joyFull oft him self extoll and vant he waldOf Troiane blude tobe discend of ald.Tharfor haue done, gallandis, cum on ȝour way,Entir within our lugyng, we ȝou pray:Siclike fortoun, throu mony feill danger,At last onto this land has dryve me heir;Thus, nocht mysknawand quhat payn is ennoy to dre,I lernyt to help all tholis aduersyte.Rehersyng this, convoys sche EneasTowart the place quhar hir ryche palyce was,And tharwith eik commandis halyday,Throwe owt the cyte all suldbe game and play.And netheles, the sammyn tyme, sendis scheDown to his folkis, at the cost of the see,Twenty fed oxin, large, gret and fyne,And ane hundreth bustuus bowkis of swyne,Ane hundreth lammys and thar moderis tharby,With other presandis, and wyne habundandly.The place within maist gloriusly and gayAdornyt was all our with ryall array:Amyd the hie rufe of the mekill hall,For the banket, mony rich claith of pallWas spred, and mony badkyn wonderly wrocht;Of siluer playt ane huge weght furth was brochtTo set on burdis; and veschell forgit of gold,Quharin was grave, maste curyus to behold,The valȝeant dedis of forfaderis past by,Sen first begynnyng of thar geneology,Man eftir man lyke as thai dyd succeid,In lang rememberans of thar worthyheid.Ene, for that his faderly pieteWold nocht suffir hys mynd in rest tobe,In haist Achates to the schippis send,To schaw Ascaneus all fra end till end,Onto the cite that he onon war brocht;On ȝong Ascaneus was haill the faderis thocht.Seir gyftis eik he bad bryng with him syne,Hynt and deliuerit from the Troian rewyne;Ane rych garmont brusyt with stife gold wyre,The purpour mantill and rycht quent attyreThat pliabill was with the gilt bordour large,Sum tyme array of Helene queyn of Arge,Quhilk from the realm of Myce with hir sche brocht,Quhen scho to Troy forbodyn hymeneus socht;This wondrus gift gottin at hir moder Lyda.And forthir eik, of fair IllionyaHe bad hym bryng with hym the ceptre wand,Quhilum Priamus eldast douchter bair in hand;The collar pight with orient peirlys als,That sche vmquhile wair about hir hals;Off gold alsso the clos or dowbill crown,Set full of precyus stonys enveroun.To do his charge, Achates bisselyThe way towart the schippis socht in hy.CAP. X
Quhou that Venus, all perrelis to seclude,Send Cupide in Ascaneus similitude.In the meyn tyme, Venus a sle wile socht,By new consait in hir mynd quhou scho mocht,In forme and vissage of sweit Ascaneus thoTransformyt, send hir awin son Cupido,To beir thir presandis, so that the amorus queynHe mycht inflambe, within hir banys greynThe hoyt fyre of lufe to kyndill and steir:For in hir mynd scho had a maner feirOf this lynnage waverand and ontrew,Tyrrhyanys dowbill tongit weill sche knew;Of cruell Juno the dreid brynt hir inwart,With mony thocht ran hastely tyll hir hart.Onto the weyngit god of luf, but weir,For thy scho spak, and said on this maner;O thou my child, my strenth and my gret mycht,O thou my son, quhilk only art so wightThat thou the dartis of Jupiter dar ganestand,Quharwith he slew Typhon, the fell gyand,To the I cum, to the I seik, quod sche,Lawly askyn thy power and supple.Quhat wys thy broder Eneas, but dowt,Is blawyn and warpit euery cost about,Of wykkit Juno throu the cruell invy,All this to the is manifest, weill wait I;For quhen I wepit tharfor, thow murnyt also.Now hym withhaldis the Phenycian Dido,And culȝeis hym with slekit wordis sle;Bot to quhat fyne, richt sair it dredis me,Sall turn this plesand gestnyng in Cartage,Quhilk is the burgh of Juno; for in hir rageAs is begun the mater sall not remane.Quharfor I ombethynk me of a trane,This queyn first forto cawch in luffis lace,And so with flambe of amouris till enbrace,That by na mycht tharfra scho may remove,Bot strangly sall with me Eneas lufe.Hark my consait, quhat wys this may be done:The rial child Ascaneus full sone,On quham maist is my thocht, grathis to pas,At command of his fader Eneas,To the cyte of Cartage, and gyftis seirTursis with hym of the ald Troian geir,Quhilk fra the storm of sey is left ontynt,And from the fyre remanys ȝit onbrynt;Hym sall I sownd slepand steill away,And hyde apon the hight of Citheray,Or in Idalium my hallowit schaw,That our dissait he nowder persave ne knaw,Nor onprovisitly cum thidder, thocht he mycht.Tak thou his lyknes, na mair bot a nycht,Forto begile queyn Dido of Cartage;My child, cleith the with ȝon kend childis vissage,So that quhen scho all blythast haldis theInto hir skyrt perchance, or on hir kne,At hir fest ryall sittand at the tabill,Amang danceis and wynys amyabill,And gan the forto hals and to enbrace,Kyssand sweitly thi quhyte nek and thi face,Than may thou slely thi vennamus ardent fyreOf fraudfull luf amyd hir breste inspyre.The God of lufe obeys hastelyHys moderis wordis, and laid his weyngis by,And blythly steppis furth lyke Iulus.Bot Venus to this ilke AscaneusThe sweit vapour of plesand sleip and restOn all the membris of his body kest,And softly the goddes in hyr lap hym bairAmyd hyr schaw of Idalium, quharTendir mariolyne and sweit flowris tharoutWith thar dulce smell hym schaddowit rownd about.CAP. XI
Of the banket, and of the gret deray,And quhou Cupyd inflambis the lady gay.Now passys furth Cupyd, full diligentFortyll obey hys moderis commandment,Berand with hym the kyngly gyftis scheyn,Quhilkis suldbe present to the ryall queyn,Blythly followyng hys ledar Achates.And as thai come, the quene was set at desVndir hir gloryus stentit capitale;Amang provd tapetis and mych rych apparaleHir place scho tuke, as was the gys that tyde,Ourspred with gold amyd a beddis syde.Abuf all othir the fader Eneas,And syne ȝong gallandis of Troy, to mete set was,Apon rich beddis sydis, per ordour,Ourspred with carpettis of the fyne purpour.To wesch thar handis seruandis brocht watir cleir,Syne breyd in baskettis, eftyr thar maner,With soft serviatis to mak thar handis cleyn.Fyfty damycellis tharin seruyt the queyn,Quhilkis bair the cure eftir thar ordour haill,On purvyance of howshald and vittaill,To graith the chalmeris, and the fyris beld.Ane hundreth madynnys had scho ȝong of eld,And elyke mony of the sam age ȝong swanys,The cowrsis and the mesys, for the nanys,To set on burdis, sik as we call seweris,And to fill cowpys, goblettis and eweris.And mayratour, the Tyrryanys halelyAt the blith ȝettis flokkis to the maniory;And as thai come, thai war down set ononeOn brusyt or payntit tapetis eueryone.Thai mervellit the rich gyftis of Eneas;Apon Ascaneus feill awondrit was,The schynand vissage of the God Cupyte,And hys dissemblit slekit wordis quhite,The precyus mantill and quent garmond also:Bot principaly the fey onsylly Dydo,For the myscheif to cum predestinat,Mycht not refreyn nor satisfy hir consait,Bot ardently behaldis all on steir,Now lykand weill the child, and now the geir.As Cupyd hyngis about Eneas hals,Enbrasit in armys, fenȝeand luf full fals,By semlant as he his fader had beyn,Full slely than he blent apon the queyn.Scho, with hir sycht and all hir mynd, rycht thar,Hym to behald, sat musand in a stayr;Sumtyme onwar hym in hir bosum held sche,Mysknawand, allace! by fals subtilite,Quhou the gret god of luf, with all hys mycht,Wachit forto dissave hir, wofull wight:Bot he, remembring on his moderis command,The mynd of Sycheus, hir first husband,Furth of hir thocht peys and peys begouth dryve,And with scharp amouris of the man alyveGan hir dolf spreit forto preveyn and steir,Had beyn dysvsit fra luf that mony ȝeir.Eftyr the first pawse, and that cowrs neir gane,And voduris and fat trunschuris away tane,The goblettis gret with myghty wynys in hyThai fill, and coverit set in by and by.Than rays the noys quhill dynnyt rufe and wallis,So thik the vocis fleys throu the large hallys.From the gilt sparris hang down mony a lycht,The flambe of torchis venquyst the dyrk nycht.The queyn than askis of gold, for the nanys,A weghty cowp, set all with precyus stanys,Bad fill it full of the rych Ypocras,Into the quhilk gret Belus accustomyt wasTo drynk vmquhile, and fra hym euery kyngDiscend of hys genology and ofspring.And, quhen silens was maid our all the hall,O Jupiter, quod scho, on the we call,For this rayson, that by wys men is said,To gestis thou grantis the herbry glaid;We the beseik, this day be fortunabillTo ws Tyrryanys, happy and agreabillTo strangearis cummyn fra Troy on thar vayage,In tyme cummyng remembrance of our vsageTo our successioun and posterite;The gevar of glaidnes, Bachus, heir mot be,And gentil Juno to ws fauorabill and meik;And ȝou, myne awyn Tyrryanys, I command eikHallow this fest with blythnes and with joy,Bair frendly falloschip to thir noblis of Troy.This beand said, the cowpe with the rich wyneApon the burd scho blyssit, and eftir syneWith hir lyp first tharof tuke bot a taist,And, carpand blythly, gaif it Bythyus in haist.He merely ressavis the remand tays,All owt he drank, and quhelmyt the gold on his face:Syne al the nobillis tharof drank abowt;I wil nocht say that ilkman playt cop owt.Bot on his gylt harp berdyt Jopas,Playand the gestis of the gret Atlas,The monys change and oblique cowrs sang he,And quhy the son eclipsis, as we se;Quharof mankynd is maid he schew ful plane,Quharof bestis, and quhat engendris rayn,Quharof cummys thundir and fyry levyn;The rany Hyades, quhilk ar the sternys sevyn,And eik Arcturus, quhilk we cal the laid stern,The dowbill Vrsys weil couth he decern;And quhy the son, into the wyntir tyde,Hastis in the sey sa fast his hede to hyde;Quhy makis the nycht that tyme sa large delay,And in somyr quhy sa lang is the day.The gyld and ryot Tyrryanys dowblit for joy,Syne the rerd followit of the ȝonkeris of Troy:Onhappy Dido alsso set all hir mychtWith sermondis seir forto prolong the nycht,The langsum lufe drynkand inwart ful cald.Full mony demand of Priam speir scho wald,And questionys seir twichyng Hector alswa;Now with quhais armour the son of AuroraCome to the sege; and now inquir wald scheQuhat kynd hors Diomede had in the melle;Quhou large of statur was fers Achillis.Haue done, my gentill gest, sone tell ws thisPer ordour, says scho, fra the begynnyng, allThe dissait of the Grekis, and the fallOf ȝour pepill, and of Troy the rewyne;Thi wandring be the way thou schaw ws syne;For now the sevynt symmyr hyddir careis the,Wilsum, and errant, throu euery land and see.