The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Gawin Douglas

      That ilke sesson, percace, as I furth glaid,

      Befor the cite, in a schaw, I wys,

      Besyde the fenȝeit flude of Symois,

      Andromache maid anniuersar sacrifyce

      And funerale servyce, on ful dolorus wys,

      To Hectoris puldir or hys assis brynt:

      Oft wald scho clepe and call, and oneth stynt,

      Apon the sawlis that onbodeit war,

      Besyde Hectoris voyd tumbe stannand thar,

      Quhilk scho vpbeildit had of herbis greyn,

      With twa altaris; and oft with wepyng eyn

      Bewalis scho that hard dissyverance.

      And alssone as scho me aspyis perchance,

      And Troiane armour and ensenȝeis with me saw,

      Affrayit of the ferly, scho stude syk aw,

      And at the fyrst blenk become so mait,

      Naturale heyt left hir membris in sik stait

      Quhil to the grond half mangit fel scho down,

      And lay a lang tyme in a dedly swown

      Or ony speche or word scho mycht furth bring:

      Ȝit thus, at last, sayd eftir hir dwawmyng;

      Is that thine awyn face, and suythfast thyng?

      Schawis thou to me a verray sovir warnyng?

      Levis thou ȝit, son of the goddes? quod sche,

      Gif thou be ded, quhar is Hector? tell me.

      And, with that word, scho bryst furth mony a teir,

      And walit so that piete was to heir,

      Quhil al about dynnys of hir womentyng.

      A few wordis skars as I mycht furth bryng,

      For to comfort that maist lamentabill wight,

      With langsum speche said, quhispirand, as I mycht;

      I leif forsuyth, and ledis lyfe, as ȝe se,

      In al hard chance of fortunys extremyte.

      Be nocht agast, ȝe se bot suythfast thyng.

      Allace! quhat aventur, in this onkouth ryng,

      Is the betyd, and hes degradit, quod I,

      Eftir thi husbandis deth, was maist douchty?

      Or quhat fortune mycht sufficient happyn the,

      Spows to maist worthy Hector, Andromache?

      Art thou, or na, to Pirrus ȝit bywed?

      Hyr vissage down scho kest, for schame adred,

      And, with a bas voce, thus said, as scho mycht;

      O thou alane, befor al madynnys bricht,

      Happy was, virgyne douchtir of Priam kyng,

      Quhilk, vnder the wallis hie of Troys ryng,

      Apon thine ennemeis grafe was maid to de;

      Thou suffert no kut nor kavillys cast for the,

      Nor in bondage away was thou nocht led,

      Nor ȝit twichit na victour lordis bed.

      Bot we, quhen that ybrynt war our kynd landis,

      Careit our fremmyt seys and diuers strandis,

      The dortynes of Achillis ofspring,

      In bondage, vndir the prowd Pyrrus ȝyng,

      By fors sustenyt thraldome mony a day,

      Quhil he at last ensewit ane othir may,

      Hermyone, the douchtir of Helena,

      In fey wedlok at Lachidemonya;

      Than send he me, his seruand, hiddir thus,

      Tobe spowsit with his seruand Helenus.

      Bot Orestes, cachit in furyus rage

      For cryme of his moderis slauchtir, and savage,

      In lufe hait byrnyng for his spows byreft,

      Or he was war, set on this Pirrus eft,

      And in Delphos, quhat nedis wordis mair?

      Smate of his hed befor his faderis altair.

      Thus, by deces of Neoptolymus,

      Of the realm a part fell to Helenus;

      The quhilk boundis and feildis braid alsswa

      He has to name clepit Chaonya,

      Eftir his brodir of Troy Chaonyus,

      And Troiane wallis heir has beild vp thus,

      And on thir motis a strenth hait Ilion.

      Bot quhat wyndis thi cowrs has hydder gone?

      And quhat aventur has the hyddir dryve?

      Or of the goddis quha maid the heir arrive

      At our marchis, mysknawyng our estait?

      Quhou faris the child Ascanyus now of lait,

      Quham to the bayr Crevse, thi spous and joy,

      That tyme enduryng the sege lay about Troy?

      Levis he ȝit in helth and in weilfair?

      Ha! how gret harm and skaith for euermar

      That child has caucht throu lesyng of his moder!

      O lord! quhat ancyant vertuys, ane and othir,

      And knychtly prowes in hym steris frendis befor,

      Baith fader Eneas, and hys vncle Hector!

      Syk wordis scho spak, wepyng with petuus mayn,

      And with lang sobbis furthȝettand teris invayn;

      Quhen that hir lord hym self cummys from the town,

      Kyng Priamus son, Helenus of renown.

      Neir he approchit with ful gret cumpany,

      And hys awyn natyve frendis knew in hy,

      And blythly to hys cite hes ws led:

      Betwix ilk word feil bricht teris furth he sched.

      We passit on, and litil Troy I knaw,

      Lyke the gret cite contyrfait on raw,

      With Ilion, and wallis lyke Pergama,

      And a smal burn half gane dry alswa,

      Onto his surname clepit Exanthus.

      At port Seya I entir, and eik with ws

      Al our Troianys togiddir welcum war

      Onto thar frendly cite famyliar.

      In hys wyde palyce the kyng ressauyt thaim all,

      And, in the myddis of the mekil hall,

      Thai byrl the wyne in honour of Bachus;

      Gret fest with joy wes maid for luf of ws;

      The mesis and the danteis thyk dyd stand,

      And goldyn cowpis went fra hand to hand.

      CAP. VI

      Quhou Helenus declaris tyll Ene

      Quhat dangeris he suld thoill on land and see.