The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse
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CAP. XII
Quhou Eneas socht hys spows, at the cost,And how to hym apperis hir gret gost.To Priamus palyce eftyr socht I than,And syne onto the tempil fast I ran:Quhar, at the porchis or clostir of Juno,Than al bot waist, thocht it was gyrth, stude thoPhenix and dowr Vlixes, wardanys tway,Forto observe and keip the spreth or pray.Thydder in a hepe was gadderit precyus geir,Riches of Troy, and other jowellis seyrReft from all partis; and of tempillis bryntOf massy gold the veschel war furth hyntFrom the goddis, and goldyn tabillis all,With precyus vestmentis of spulȝe triumphall:The ȝyng childring, frayt matronys eik,Stude al on raw, with mony petuus screikAbowt the tresour quhymperand wondir sayr.And I alsso my self sa bald wolx thairThat I durst schaw my voce in the dyrk nycht,And clepe and cry fast throw the stretis on hychtFul dolorusly, Crevsa! Crevsa!Agane, feil sys, invane I callit swaThrou howsys and the cite quhar I ȝoyd,But owder rest or resson, as I war woyd;Quhil that the figur of Crevsa and gost,Of far mair statur than ayr quhen scho was lost,Befor me, catyve, hyr sekand, apperit thar.Abasyt I wolx, and widdyrsyns start my hayr;Speke mycht I not, the voce in my hals swa stak.Than scho, belyfe, on this wys to me spak,With sik wordis my thochtis to asswage:O my sweit spows, into sa furyus rageQuhat helpis thus thi selwyn to torment?This chance is not, but goddis willis went;Nor it is nocht leifful thing, quod sche,Fra hyne Crevse thou turs away with the,Nor the hie governour of the hevin abufe isWil suffir it so tobe; bot the behuffisFrom hens to wend ful far into exile,And our the braid sey sail furth mony a myle,Or thou cum to the land Hesperya,Quhar, wyth soft cowrs, Tybris of LydyaRynnys throu the rych feldis of pepil stowt:Thar is gret substans ordanyt the, but dowt,Thar salt thou have a realm, thar salt thou ryng,And wed to spows the douchtir of a kyng.Thy wepyng and thi teris do away,Quhilk thou makis for thi luffyt Crevsay;For I, the neyce of mychty Dardanus,And gude douchtyr onto the blyssit Venus,Of Myrmydonys the realm sal nevir behald,Nor ȝit the land of Dolopeis so bald,Nor go to serve na matron Gregion;Bot the gret modir of the goddis ilkanIn thir cuntreis withhaldis me for evyr.Adew, fayr weil, for ay we mon dissevir!Thou be gude frend, lufe weil, and keip fra skathOur a ȝong son is common til ws baith.Quhen this was spokkyn, fra me away scho glaid,Left me wepyng and feil wordis wald have said;For sche sa lychtly vanysyt in the ayr,That with myne armys thrys I presyt tharAbout the hals hir fortil haue belappit,And thrys, al waist, my handis togidder clappit:The figur fled as lycht wynd, or the son beym,Or maist lykly a waverand swevyn or dreym.Thus finaly, the nycht al passit and gane,Onto my falloschip I return agane,Quhar that I fand assemlyt, al newly,So huge a rowt of our folkis that IWondryt the nowmyr; thai sa mony weirOf men and women gadderit al infeir,And ȝong pepil to pas in exile abill,And of commonys a sort sa miserabill,Fra euery part that flokkyng fast about,Baith with gude wil and thar moblis, but dout,Reddy to wend in quhat cost or cuntreThat evir me list to cary thame our see.Wyth this the day starn, Lucifer the brycht,Abuf the top of Ida rays on hycht,Gydand the day hard at his bak followyng;The Grekis than we se in the mornyngStand forto kepe the entreis of the portis:And thus, quhen na hope of reskew, at schort, is,My purpos I left, obeyand destanye,And careit my fader to Ida hyll on hie.THE PROLOUG OF THE THRYD BUKE
Hornyt Lady, pail Cynthia, not brycht,Quhilk from thi broder borrowis al thi lycht,Rewlare of passage and ways mony one,Maistres of stremys, and glaidar of the nycht,Schipmen and pilgrymys hallowis thi mycht,Lemman to Pan, douchtir of Hyperion,That slepand kyssit the hyrd Endymyon;Thy strange wentis to write God grant me slycht,Twiching the thryd buke of Eneadon.The feirful stremys and costis wondyrfullNow most I write, althocht my wyt be dull,Wild aventuris, monstreis and quent effrays;Of onkowth dangeris this nixt buke hail is full:Nyce laborynth, quhar Mynotawr the bullWas kepte, had nevir sa feil cahuttis and ways;I dreid men clepe thame fablis now on days;Tharfor wald God I had thar erys to pullMysknawis the creid, and threpis otheris forvayis.Incays thai bark, I compt it nevir a myte;Quha kan not hald thar peice ar fre to flyte;Chide quhil thar hedis ryfe, and hals worth hays:Weyn thai to murdrys me with thar dispyte?Or is it Virgill quham thame list bakbyte?His armour wald thai pers? quhar is the place?He dowtis na dynt of polax, sword, nor mace:Quhat wenys thou, frend, the craw be worthyn quhite,Suppos the holkis be all ourgrowyn thi face?Deym as ȝhe lest that kan not demyng weill;And, gentill curtas redaris, of gude ȝeill,I ȝow beseik to gevin aduertens;This text is full of storys euery deill,Realmys and landis, quharof I haue na feillBot as I follow Virgill in sentens;Few knawis all thir costis sa far hens;To pike thame vp perchance ȝour eyn suld reill:Thus aucht thar nane blame me for smal offens.By strange channellis, fronteris, and forlandis,Onkouth costis, and mony wilsum strandisNow goith our barge, for nowder howk nor craikMay heir bruke sail, for schald bankis and sandis.From Harpyes fell, and blynd Cyclopes handis,Be my laid star, virgyne moder, but maik;Thocht storm of temptatioun my schip oft schaik.Fra swelth of Sylla, and dyrk Caribdis bandis,I meyn from hell, salue al go not to wraik.THE THRYD BUKE OF ENEADOS
CAP. I
Quhou Eneas fra Troy has tane hys rays,And Polidorus graf has fund in Trace.Eftyr that seyn and thocht expedientWas by the goddys to dystroy and schentOf Asya the empyre, and down to bryng,But offens, Priamus pepil and ofspryng,And prowd Ilion was brokyn and bet down,And from the soyl al Troy, Neptunus town,Ybrynt in smoke of flambis and in reik;Syndry landis and cuntreis forto seik,And wend exile in diuers nationys,Of the goddis by reuelacionys,We war admonyst feil syth, as is said.Schippis we graith, and navy reddy maid,Betwix Anthandros and the mont of Ida,Oncertane quhidder the fatis wald we suld ga,Or quhar we suld remane ȝit fynaly;Our men togidder gadderit we in hy.And skant begunnyn was the fresch veir,Quhen that Anchises, myne awyn fader deir,Bad ws mak sail and follow destany.Than, weping sayr, my native cost left I,The havynnys, and the feildis dissolaitQuhar Troys ryall cite stude of lait:Furth sail I banyst throw the deip see,With my ȝong son Ascanyus and our menȝe,And with our frendly goddis, Penates hait,And eik our gret Goddis of mair estait.Thar lyis a weirly cuntre weil far thens,With large feildis lauborit ful of fens;Of Trace the pepill ar thar inhabityng,Quhar that vmquhile strang Lycurgus was kyng:Ane ancyant and ane tendir herbry placeTo Troianys, quhil we stude in fortonys grace,Our pepil togidder confederate and aly.By schip thiddir, our sey, careit was I,Quhar, at the bayand costis syde of the see,Begouth I first set wallis of a cite,Althocht my foundment was mysfortunat:The towne I nemmyt efter myne estait,And fra my name it clepit Eneadas.Onto my moder, of Dyona douchter was,Sacrifice I maid, and to the goddis allQuham for new warkis men happy helparis call;And to the kyng of hevinly wightis, that tyde,A quhite bull slew I by the costis syde.On cace, thar stude a litil mote neir by,Quhar hepthorn buskis on the top grew hie,And evin saplynnys of myrthus, the tre funerale.Thiddir I went, greyn bewis doune to haill,Hard by the grond myne altare forto dychtWith burgyonys and with branchis al at rycht:A grysly takyn, feirful to tell, I se.As from the soyll vprent was the first treBy the rutys, the blak droppis of bludeDistillit tharfra, that al the erth quhar it studeWas spottit of the fylth, and stenyt, allaik!The cald dreid maid all my membris quaik,And for effeir my blude togidder fresyt.Ane other smal twyst of a tre I chesitForto brek down, the causys to assayOf this mater, that war onknawyn alway;And ȝit the blude followit on the sam maneirFurth of the bark of that other, but weir.Than in my mynd of mony thingis I musyt,And to the goddessis of wildyrnes, as is vsyt,Quhilk Hamadriades hait, I wirschip maid;Onto Gradyus fader, that ryngnys glaidOur all the land of Getya and Tars,Quhilk clepit is the god of armys, Mars;Besekyng this avisioun worth happy,And the oracle prosperite suld signyfy.Bot efter that the thryd syoun of treys,Apon the sandis syttand on my kneys,I schupe to haue vprevyn with mair pres,(Quhidder sal I spek now, or hald my pes?)Furth of the graif a duylful murnyng lawI hard, and to myne eris come this saw:Ene, quhy rentis thou a wrechit creatur?Haue reuth of hym now laid in sepultur,And forto fyle thi deuote handis spair:Of Troy I born am, to the na strangar:This blude droppis nocht from that stok in thi hand.Fle sone, allace! furth of this cursyt land:Fle from this avarus kyngis cost in hy;For lo! thus, Polidorus heir I ly,Througyrd with dartis, and thyk steil hedis schote,Apon sik wys ourheildit on this mote;The scharp lancis growis greyn and spredis owt.Than wist I not quhat I suld do for dowt,The feir affrayit my mynd estonyst als,Vpstart my hayr, the word stak in my hals.With a gret sold of gold fey PriamusSecretly vmquhile send this Polidorus,Quhilk was his son, to Polynestor kyngOf Trace, to kepe and haue in nurysyng,Quhen first of Troiane defens begouth he dowt,And saw the town besegyt all abowt.Bot this ilk kyng of Trace, seand how TroyLossyt his myghtis be forton turnyt from joy,The party chesis of Agamenon,Anherdand to the victorius syde onone;Al faith and frendschip brak he than in hy,And Polydorus slane hes cruelly,And thus, be fors, the tresour he doith withhold.O cursyt hungyr of this wrachit gold!Quhat wikkytnes or myscheif may be doAt thou constrenys not mortale myndis tharto?Eftir this effray was fra my banys went,Of the goddis thir feirfull wordis quentOnto the noblis and grettast of our men,And to my fader fyrst, rehers I then,And, quhat thar purpos was, eik I inquir.Thai war al of a will and a desyr,To pas furth of this wareit realm of Trace,And for to leif that pollut herbry place,And set our navy to the wynd, but weir.Tharfor, to Polidorus vp a beyrWe erekkit, and of erd a gret fluyrKest in a hepe abuf his sepultur:Syne, in ramembrance of the sawlis went,The dolorus altaris fast by war vpstent,Crownyt with garlandis al of haw sey hewis,And with the blaiknyt cypres dedly bewis.The Troiane wemen stude with hayr down schaik,About the beir weping with mony allake!And on we kest of warm mylk mony a skul,And of the blude of sacrifyce cowpis full:The sawle we bery in sepultur on this wys,The lattir hailsyng syne lowd schowtit thrys,Rowpand atanys, adew! quhen al is done,Ilkane per ordour, the mon we follow sone.CAP. II
Quhou Eneas socht answer at Apollyne,And quhou he to the land of Crete is salyt syne.Syne, quhen we se our tyme to sail maist habill,The blastis mesit, and the fludis stabill,The softe piping wynd callyng to see,Thar schippis than furth settis our menȝe:Ȝe mycht haue sene the costis and the strandisFillit with portage and pepil tharon standis.Furth of the havin we salit al onone;The sicht of land and cite sone is gone.Amyd the sey yclepit EgeosAne haly iland lyis, that hait Delos,Beluffit of Neptune, and the moder alswaOf the Nereydes, clepit Doryda;Quham the cheritabil archer, Appollo,Quhen it flet rollyng from costis to and fro,Saisit and band betwix other ilis twa,Quhilk clepit ar Mycone and Gyara,Stablisyng so that it mycht lauborit be,And comptis nowthir the wynd nor storm of see.Thidder ar we careit, and, in that plesand land,A sovir havyn ressavit ws at hand.Al wery beyn we yschit furth of schipThe cite of Apollo to wirschip:The kyng tharof, yclepit Anyvs,Prince of the men, and preste eik to Phebus,With bendis baith and haly lawrer crownSet on his hed, met ws withowt the town;His agit frend Anchises knew this kyng.Handis we schuke with hartly welcumyng,And to his palyce al with hym we went,Quhar that I wirschip, as wes myne entent,The god Appollo, within his hallowit haldOr tempil beldyt al of stanys ald.O thou, quod I, Appollo Tymbreus,Sum propir dwellyng place thou grant to ws;We the beseik that schaw alsso thou waldTo ws irkit sum strenth and stalwart hald,And at thou grant ws eik successioun,And for to dwel in a remanand town.Salve ws, lattir wardis of Troy, that we ne spill,Levyngis of Grekis and of the fers Achill.Geif ws thine answer quharon we sal depend;Quhidder wilt thou, fader, at we now wend?Quhar sall we set our lugyng to remane?Condiscend in our myndis, and schaw this plane.Scars war thir wordis said, quhen that I seAl thingis trymmyl and schaik neir abowt me,The durris and the lawrer tre, but dowt,And al the montane movit rownd about:A murmur or a rumysyng hard we haueWithin the courtyng and the secret cave;The quyet closettis oppynnyt with a rerd,And, we plat law gruflyngis on the erd,A voce com til our erys, sayand thus;O ȝe dowr pepil discend from Dardanus,The ilke grond, fra quham the first stok camOf ȝour lynnage, with blyth bosum the samSal ȝou ressaue thidder returnyng agane:To seik ȝour ald moder mak ȝou bane.Thar sal Eneas lynnage haue senȝeoryOur al realmys and landis vndir the sky,And thar sonnys, and sonnys sonnys syne,And al that evir succedis of thar lyne.Thus said Phebus; and than, our folkis amang,Mixt with blithnes a fellon dyn vpsprang:Quhat place was this, euery ane fast gan frane,Quhidder callis Phebus? byddis he ws turn agane?My fader than, revoluyng in his mynd,The discens of forfaderis of our strynd,Nobillis, quod he, harkis quhat I sal say,And leyr at me ȝour weilfair, I ȝou pray.The ile of Crete lyis amyd the see,The native land of Jupiter maist hie;Thar is the first hyll, yclepit Ida,Thar our forbearis first in thar credlys lay;The land maist plentevs of wyne, oyl, and quhete,Inhabyt with a hundreth citeis gret,Quharfra thar com, gif I remembir rycht,Our gret forfader Teucrus the wycht,First to the cost of Rethea in Phrygy,And for his cite chesit the set fast by:For ȝit than was not Ilion vpbeld,Nor the strang wallis of Troy; bot on the feldThai dwelt in lugys and mony litil cave.The adornar eik of our realm we haueFrom that land, the moder of goddis Cybele,And blast of brasyn trumpettis, as ȝe se:From thens com eik the wod of Idea,And the traist serymonys of sacrifice alswa:The fasson eik and gys we lernyt tharQuhou the lyonys suld draw the ladeis char.Haue done onon, tharfor, and lat ws wendThidder quhar the goddis oracle haith ws kend.The wynd first lat ws meys, or that we ga,Syne seik the realm of Crete and Gnosia:It is not thens lang cowrs nor vyage far;Our navy sall, with help of Jupiter,The thrid morow be at the cost of Crete.This beand said, ganand offerandis ful meteBefor the altaris he slew in sacrifyce;A bul first to Neptune, as is the gys,A bull to brycht Appollo for his beheist,And to the god of tempestis a blak beist,And to the chancy wyndis ane mylk quhite.The fame was than, of Crete the cost stude quyteDissolate, but prince; for Idomeneus the kyngWas by the pepil expellit from his ryng,The lugyngis voyd and reddy to thar fays,The sete left waist til ony it vptais.The porte tharwith, Ortygia, leif we,And with swift cowrs flaw throu the salt see;By the iland swepit we ononWith hillis ful of wynys, hait Naxon,By Donysa quhar growis the marbill greyn,And by Paron with his quhite marbill scheyn,By Olearon, and mony ilis, but les,Skatterit in the sey, yclepit Cyclades;We slyde throu fludis endlang feil costis fayr.The noys vpsprang of mony marynarByssy at thar wark, to takilling euery tow,Thar feris exorting, with mony heys and how,To speid thame fast towart the realm of Crete,With thar forfaderis and progenitouris to mete.The followand wynd blew strek in our tail,Quhill finaly arrive we, with bent saill,Apon the ancyant cost of Curetanys,A kynd of pepill quhilk into Crete remanys.And sone I me enfors with diligenceTo byg a wallit cite of defens;Pargamea I namyt it, but baid:Our folkis than, that warryn blyth and glaidOf this kowth surname of our new cite,Exort I to graith howsis, and leif in le,And rays on hycht the strenth and fortales.Our schippis, or this, ful weil we gart adres,And lay almaist apon the dry sand:The ȝong men fortil laubour thar new land,And in honour of wedlok, as is the gys,Makkis thar offerand and thar sacryfys,And I thar statutis and seyr lawis thame tawcht,Assyngnand ilkane propir howsis and aucht.Quhen suddanly a cruel pest and traik,So that cornys and frutis goith to wraik,Throu the corruppit ayr and cowrs of hevyn,A dedly ȝeir, far wers than I kan nevin,Fell on our membris with sik infectioun,Was na remeid, cure, nor correctioun;The sweit sawlis lefis the bodeis ded,Or seik thai ly gaspand in euery sted.And forthir eik, Syryvs, the frawart star,Quhilk clepit is the syng canicular,So brynt the feildis al was barrand maid;Herbis wolx dry, wallowyng, and gan to faid;The seik grond denyis hys fruyt and fudis.My fader exortis ws turn agane our fludisTo Delos, and Apolloys answer speir,Besekyng hym of succurs ws to leir,Quhat end ontil our irksum panys he sendis,And be quhat way we mycht assay amendisOf this turbacioun, or quhidder and quhar that heWil at we seik or set our cowrs our see.CAP. III
Quhou Troiane goddys apperis tyll Enee,And how that he was stormstad on the see.Cummyn is the nycht, that euery beist on grondDesiris rest by kynd, and slepis sovnd;Quhen that the figuris of our goddis blist,And the Phrigiane Penates, or I wist,Quhilkis from amyd the fyris of Troy I brochtThidder with me, quhar I lay and slepit nocht,Gan to appeir standyng befor myne eyn:With ful gret lycht graithly I haue thame seyn,Quhar as the ful moyn schawing bemys brychtInthrou the tyrlyst wyndo schane by nycht.Than said thai thus, with wordis to asswageMy thochtis and my hevy sad curage;That thing, quod thai, quhilk Apollo wald saAnd thou war brocht onto Ortygia,Heir he the schawis, and eik, as thou may se,Onrequirit hes send ws hidder to the.Quhen Troy was brynt, we followit thi prowes,Vnder thi gward to schip we ws addres,Ourspannand mony swelland seys salt;And to the starnys eik we sal exaltThe childryn for tocum of thine ofspryng;Thi cite sal we geif empyre to ryngOur al the erth: tharfor to goddis greteBegyn to graith gret wallis and ryal sete;Leif not thi langsum lavbour, bot fle away;This duelling place thou mon change, we the say:Delyvs Apollo, certis, as thou thocht,Tocum onto this cost perswadit nocht,Nor chargit neuer in Crete thou suld remane.A land thar is, in Grekis langage planeHesperya clepit, a bald cuntre in weir,A fructuus grond of corn and riches seir,By kyng Onotryvs inhabit first with wyne,Bot in our days laitly, the fame is syne,Eftir thar duke it is namyt Italy:Thar beyn our propir setis and our herbry;Tharof com Dardane and his brothir Jasyvs,And from that ilk prince, Schir Dardanus,Is the discens of our genealogy.Get vp onone, tel thi ald fader blythlyThir tythyngis, quhilk beyn trew and certan thing.Seik to Coryce, and Italy the ryng;For the feldis in Crete neyr DycteusJupiter denyis to granting onto ws.Of this visioun estonyst quhar I lay,And of tha wordis quhilkis the goddis gan say,(For this wes nowthir dreym nor fantasy;Thar propir vissage befor me stand knew I,With garlandis and thar cirkillettis on thar hair;Thar figur saw I present to me thair;The cald sweit our al my body ran;)Furth of my bed on fute son sprent I than,And, strekand vp my handis towart hevyn,Myne oryson I maid with devote stevyn;A cleyn sacrifyce and offerand maid I syne,Into the fyris ȝettand sens and wyne.The serymoneis endit, blyth and glaidTo my fader per ordour al I saidAs ȝe haue hard, quhat nedis tell agane?And of this mater maid hym ful certane.Onone he knew our elderis dowtis ilk deill,And of our clan the dowbill stok full weill:He grantis the unkouth errour hym dissavitOf ancyant placis, quhilk he not persavit.Syne said he, son, thou irkit art al gatisBy the contrarius frawart Troiane fatis;Now I remembir only quhou CassandraFul oft maid mensioun of Hesperya,And oft als of the realm hait Italy,Thir materis me declaring by and by.That land now knaw I destinate to our kyn:Bot quha wald haue belevit at euer withinThe realm of Itail Teucrus blude suld cum?Or quha wald than, mair than scho had bene dum,Set by the prophetes wordis Cassandra?Lat ws obey Phebus, and wend awa,As we bene monyst, follow our chance, but pleys.Thus said he, and we glaid al hym obeys:A few folkis thar left to kepe the town,This sted alsso leif we, and sail maid bown;In bowit bargis throu the large streym we slyde.Quhen sycht of land was tynt on euery syde,Sa that na cost apperis quhilk we mycht se,Bot the schippis haldand the deip see,The hevin abufe, and fludis al abowt;A watry clowd, blak and dyrk, but dowt,Gan tho appeir abone our hed ful rycht,And down a tempest sent als myrk as nycht.The streym apperis vgsum of the dym sky;The wyndis weltris the sey continualy,That huge wallis boldynnys apon loft;Skatterit widequhar our the fame ful oftWar our schippis, and the brythnes of day,Inuolvit al with clowdis, hyd away.The rayn and royk reft from ws sycht of hevin;The brokkyn skyis rappis furth thunderis levin;Forswiftit from our richt cowrs, gan we arAmang the blynd wallis waverand far.For Palynurus him self maist expart,For al his cunnyng of schipman craft and cart,Amyd the sey forȝet the richt way,Denyand als that the nycht from the dayHe mycht discern be sycht of firmament.Apon sik wys oncertanly we wentThre days wilsum throu the mysty streym,And als mony nychtis but starnys leym,That quhidder was day or nycht oneith wist we;Bot at the last, on the ferd day we seOn far the land appeir, and hillis rys,The smoky vapour vpcasting on thar gys.Down fallis salis, the aris sone we span;But mair abaid, the marineris euery manEgirly rollis our the fomy flude,And the haw sey weltis vp as thai war woid.Salve from the wallis at the costis of StropheWith al our navy first arryvit we.CAP. IV
Quhou till Ene the harpyes dyd gret wo,And of the drery prophete Celeno.Strophades in Grew leid ar nemmyt so,In the gret sey standing ilis two;The quhilk sey clepit is Ionium;And, in thir ilandis quhidder we ar becum,Dwelt and inhabit the cruel Celeno,With all the otheris harpeys mony mo,Evir sen thai war expeld from the landOf Arcad, quhar kyng Phyneus was dwelland,And for dreid at his tabil durst not remane.Mair wikkit monstreis than thai kan be nane,Nor nane mair cruel pestilens is fund,Nor fury of goddis that cummys from hellis grund,Furth of the flude of Stix that sory place.Thir fowlis hes a vyrgynys wlt and face,With handis like to bowland byrdis clewis;Bot the vile belleis of thai cursit schrewisAboundis of fen maist abhomynabill,And pail al tyme thar mowthis miserabillFor wod hungyr and gredy appetite.At this ilke cost as we arryvit, als tyte,And in the port entrit, lo! we seFlokkis and herdis of oxin and of fe,Fat and tydy, rakand our alquhar,And trippis eik of gait, but ony kepar,In the rank gyrs pasturyng on raw;With wapynnys thame we brittyn, but dreid or aw:To goddis syne and Jupiter we pray,And thame distribut a party of our pray.Syne eftir, endlang the sey costis bay,Vp sonkis set, and desys dyd array;To meit we sat with habundans of cheir:Quhen suddanly, with horribill dyn and beir,From the montanys the harpeis on vs fell,With huge fard of weyngis and mony a ȝell.Our mesis and our mete thai reft away,And with thar laithly twich al thing fyle thai;Thar voce alsso was vgsum fortil heir,With sa corruppit flewyr nane mycht byde neir.From that place syne ontil a caif we went,Vndir a hyngand hewch, in a dern went,With treys clos bilappit rownd about,And thik harsk granyt pikis standing owt:Thar, vp agane, our tabillis haue we dicht,And on the altaris bet the fyris bricht.Bot, of the hevin agane from syndry artis,Out of quyet hyrnys, the rowt vpstartisOf thai birdis, with byr and mony a bray,And in thar crukyt clawis grippis the pray:Evir as thai fle about fra sete to sete,With thar vyle mowthis infek thai al our mete.Quhen I saw this, our feris command I thanTak thar wapynnys, and bargane euery manAgane tha cruell pepill, or byrdis fell.As I thame chargit, schortly for to tell,Sone haue thai done; and, vnder the gers, al bairFul prevaly thar swerdis in thai stair,And darnly eik thar targis al ourheildis;So that, quhen the sey costis and the feildisResoundis at down come of thir harpeys,Mysenus, the wait, on the hie garet seys,And, with his trumpet, thame a takyn maid.Our falloschip thir fowlys gan invayd,And onkouth kynd of batail dyd assay,With wapynnys forto bet and dryve awayThir laithly sey byrdis of syk effeir.Bot thar was na dynt mycht thar fedderis scheir,Nor in thar bodeis wound ressave thai nane:Bot suddanly, away tha wysk ilkaneFurth of our sycht, heich vp in the sky;The pray half etyn behynd thame lat thai ly,With fut stedis vyle and laith to se.Ane, on a rolkis pynnakill perkit hie,Celeno clepit, a drery prophetes,Furth of hir breist thir wordis warpis expres:Theyfage lynnage of fals Laomedon,Addres ȝe thus to mak bargane onon?Becaus ȝe have our oxin reft and slane,Brytnyt our styrkis and ȝong bestis mony ane,Schaip ȝe, tharfor, harpeys expell and dyng,But ony offens, furth of thar faderis ryng?Ressave for that, and in ȝour brestis enprentMy wordis, quhilk I, gretast fury of torment,Schawis ȝou; that thing quhilk Jupiter maist hieSchew to Phebus, and brycht Phebus tald me.I knaw ȝe set ȝour cowrs to Italy:Ȝe cal eftir gude wyndis and prospir sky:To Itale sal ȝe wend, and thar tak land.Bot first, or wallis of the cite vpstandQuhilk by the goddis is ȝou predestinate,For strang hungir sal ȝe stand in sik state,In wraik of our iniuris and bestis slane,That with ȝour chaftis to gnaw ȝe salbe fane,And runge ȝour tabillis al and burdis, quod sche;And sone away in the thik wod gan fle.The suddane dreid so stonyst our feris than,Thar blude congelit and al togiddir ran;Dolf wolx thar spretis, thar hie curage downfell,No mair thame lykis assayng sik batell;Bot, with offerandis and eik devot prayer,Thai wald we suld perdoun and pace requer,In cace gif thai war goddessis or fowlis,Vengeabill wightis, or ȝit laithly owlis.Bot our fader, hevand vp his handis,The gret goddis dyd call, and on the sandisHallowis thar mycht with detful reverens:O hie goddis, forbyd syk violens,Stanch this bost and ondo this myscheif,Salve petuus folkis, ameys ȝour wrath and greif,Quod he; and tharwith chargit ankyrris haill,Do lows the rabandis, and lat down the saill.The sowth wyndis stentis furth strait our schete:Swiftly we slyde our bullyrand wallys grete,And followit furth the sammyn went we have,Quhar so the wynd and sterysman ws drave;Quhil that, amyd the fludis, gan we seThe woddy ile Zacynth, with mony tre;Dulichium syne, and Same we aspy,And Neritos with his rochis hie;By craggis and hewys of Itachia,That was Laertes realm, we slyde alswa,And fast we wary and cursyt oft, but les,That land quhilk bred the cruel Vlixes.Belyve the mysty toppys of mont LewcasApperis, quharon Appollois tempil was,That feirful is til euery maryner.Al wery of our vayage thidder we steir,And come onon afor the litil town,And of our forschip ankyrris leit we down:Endlang the costis syde our navy raid.And thus at last brocht to land blyth and glaid,Quhar as to have arryvit we not belevit,We clenge ws first, les Jupiter war aggrevit;Syne on the altaris kendillit sacrifyce,And, langgis the channel, eftir the Troiane gys,The active gemmys and sportis gart assay.Our falloschip excers palestral play,As thai war wont at hame, with oyll envnte,Nakyt wreslyng and struglyng at nyce punte.Joyvs thai war to haue eschapit at handSa mony citeis of the Grekis land,And to haue fled til salfte on this wysThrou the myd rowtis of thar ennemys.