The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Gawin Douglas
ȝou to mak the band of mariage,
Nor in that ȝok, ne frendschip in Cartage,
Ȝyt come I nevir: bot gif the fatis, but pled,
At my plesour sufferit me lyfe to led,
At my fre wil my warkis to modyfy,
The cite of Troy than first agane suld I
Restore, and of our deir frendis remanys
Gaddir togiddir, and to the venquist Troianys
Raparal with my handis agane thar wallis,
And beild vp Priamus palyce at now fallis.
Bot sen Appollo, clepit Gryneus,
Gret Italy to seik commandis ws,
To Itale eik oraclys of Lycia
Admonyst ws, but mair delay, to ga;
Thar is my lust now, and delyte at hand,
Thar is my cuntre, and my natyve land.
Gif the, of Cartage the burgh and towris swa,
Quhilk art a woman of Phenycia,
And the aspect of citeis Affricane
Delytis, and withhaldis heir to remane,
Quhat wrang is it, caus of envy or schame,
Thocht Troianys seik to Itale for thar hame?
Or is it nocht als lesum and ganand
That fynaly we seik to onkouth land?
Als oft as day is gone, and the dyrk nycht
With hir donk schaddow hydis of the erth the sycht,
Als oft as schynyng starnys doith vprys,
My faderis gost, Anchises, als feil sys
Into my sleip mannasis me tharto fast,
And oft his feirfull ymage doith me agast;
And, in lyke wys, the child Ascanyus,
Quhais deir hed suffir iniurys is hard to ws,
Quham of the realm of Itail I defraud,
And fra the grond to hym promyst withhawd.
Be athir of our hedis this I sweir;
Now laitly eik of goddis the messynger,
From hie Jupiter in hasty message sent,
Down throu the ayr brocht the ilk commandment:
On fair day lycht, myne awyn self dyd I se
Mercur, the God, entyr in this cite,
And his wordis with thir sam eris hard I.
With thy complayntis ony langar, forthy,
Lat be to vex me, or thy self to spyll,
Sen I seik nocht to Itale with fre will.
CAP. VII
Of the scharp wordys queyn Dydo dyd say, And how Eneas bownys fast away.
Dydo, aggrevit ay quhil he his tayl tald,
With acquart luke gan to wart hym behald,
Rollyng vmquhile hir eyn, now heir, now thar,
With syght onstabil waverand our alquhar;
And all enragyt thir wordis gan furth braid:
Nothir wes a goddes thy moder, as is sayd,
Nor ȝyt kyng Dardanus cheif stok of thi kyn,
Thou treuthles wyght; bot, of a cald hard quhyn,
The clekkyt that horribill mont, Cawcasus hait;
Thou sowkyt nevir womanis breist, weil I wait,
Bot of sum cruel tygir of Araby
The pappys the fosterit in the wod Hyrcany.
To quhat effect suld I hym langar perswaid,
Or quhat bettir may beleve than he hes said?
Quhiddir gif he murnyt quhen we wepit and walyt?
Quhiddir gif he steryt his eyn, as ocht hym alyt?
Quhidder gif, for rewth, he furthȝet anys a teyr,
Or of hys lufe had piete? na, not to ȝeir.
Quhou sal I begyn, quhat first, quhat last to say?
Now, now, nothir gretast Juno, wallaway!
Nor Saturnys son, hie Jupiter, with just eyn
Hes our querrell considerit, na ourseyn;
For no quhar now faith nor lawte is fund.
I ressavyt hym schyp brokkyn fra the sey grund,
Wilsum, and mystyrfull of al warldis thyng,
Syne, myndles, maid hym my fallow in this ryng:
Hys navy lost raparalyt I, but faill,
And hys feris fred from the deth alhaill.
Allace! enragyt or enchantit am I;
Quhen now Appollo, with hys sossery,
And quhilis, he says, the kavillys of Lycia,
And quhilis, fra Jupiter down sent alsswa,
The messynger of goddis bryngis throu the skyis
Sa feirful charge and command on this wys:
Lyke as the goddis abufe nocht ellys rocht,
Bot on thi passage war al thar cuyr and thocht.
Nothir wil I hald the, nor thi wordis contrar:
Pas on thi way, towart Itale thou fair;
Seik throu the fludis with wyndis to that ryng.
Forsuyth, gif reuthfull goddis may ony thing,
Amyd thi way, I traist, on rolkis blak
Thou sal deir by thy treuth thou to me brak,
And clepe oft my richt name, Dido, Dido!
With fyre infernale, in thine absens alsso,
I sal the follow; and, fra the cald ded
Reif from my membris this sawle, in euery sted
My gost salbe present the to agrys:
Thou salt, onworthy wyght, apon this wys,
Be punyst weil; and tharof wald I heyr;
The fame tharof sal cum onto myne eyr,
Vndir the erth, amang the schaddowys law.
And this spokkyn, hir sermond, with the ilk saw,
Brak scho in twane, ful dolorus in hir thocht:
The lycht scho fled, and, als fast as scho mocht,
Turnys frawart hym, and wyskyt of hys sycht,
On seir materis leifand hym pensyve wight,
And purposyng to haue said mony thyngis.
The damycellis fast to thar lady thryngis,
That was in dedly swoun plat for dispar:
Vp thai hyr hynt, and to hyr chawmyr bayr,
Quhilk was of marbill wrocht, and in hir bed
Laid softly down apon rych carpettis spred.
Bot ȝyt, althocht the reuthfull Eneas
The dolorus queyn to meys ful bissy was,
To do hir comfort, and hir dyseys asswage,
And with hys wordis return hir sad curage,
Bewalyng mekill hyr sorow and distres,
Proplexte in mynd by gret lufe; netheles,
The command of the goddis, by and by,
He execut, and vysseys hys navy.
Than byssely the Troianys fell to wark,
And