The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Volumes 1 & 2. Virgil
flokkis about a multitude ȝong Troianys,
Byssy to knak and pul the presoneir.
Now the dissait of Grekis may ȝe heir,
And all thar falshed lern by this a slycht.
For, alsso fast in myddis of al our sycht20
As that drery onarmyt wyght was stad,
And with eyn blent about, semyng ful rad,
Behaldand Troiane rowtis on athir hand,
Alace, quod he, wald God some erd, or sand,
Or sum salt sey dyd swelly me alyve!
Quhat other thing now restis to me catyve,
Quhamto sal nevir amang Grekis agane5
A place be fundyn suythly to remane?
And maratour, Troianys, offendyt eik,
To sched my blude by paynful deth dois seik.
With this regrait our hartis sterit to piete,
All molestatioune cessit and lattyn be,10
We hym exort rehers, and tobe bald,
Of quhat lynnage he was, and quhat he wald,
And to ramembir, gude hope of ferm supple
Happynnys oft to presoneris in captiuite.
He, at the last, this fenȝeit dreid dyd away,15
And on this wys onone begouth to say;
Forsuyth, Schir kyng, I sal, quhat euer betyde,
Grant to the all the verite, and nocht hyde,
Nor, be na ways, me lyst nocht to deny
That of the Grekis menȝe ane am I.20
Thys principaly I wald thou vndyrstude;
Thocht frawart fortoun miserabill and bayr of gude
Has maid Synon, sche sal nocht mak hym als,
Quhat euer he says, nowder lear nor fals.
Gyf euer onto ȝour eris come the name,25
The hie wirschip, and the renownyt fame
Of Palamedes, from Belus blude discend,
Quham Grekis by fals traysoun, as weil is kend,
Throw corrupt witnes stanyt to ded, but les,
For he the weir forbad and procurit pes;30
Now murn thai for his dede; and with hym heir
In falloschip, my puyr fader in weir
Send me of ȝouth, as to hym neir of blude.
Quhil in prosperite of the realm he stude,
And Grekis ryng by counsale was rewlit wysly,5
Sum name of wyrschip and autorite bair I:
Bot efter that by envy and haitrent
Of the fals flechand Vlixes sa quent,
I iape not, for that I say weyll I knaw;
Fra he was slane, allace, and brocht of daw,10
Dolorus my lyfe I led in sturt and pane,
Hevyly weyand my innocent frende thus slane.
Ses couth I nocht, bot in my franacy,
Gyf euer I happit my tyme forto espy,
And victour haue returnyt onto Arge,15
I hecht to be revengit: with wordis large
Thus I prouokit scharp feid and malyce baith.
To me this was fyrst apperans of skaith.
From thens fordwart, Vlixes mair and mayr
With new crymys begouth affray me sair,20
And dangerus rumour amang the commonys hedis
Skalit and sew of me in diuers stedis,
And, knawyng hym self gylty, by hys consait
Grathit hys wapynys of slycht and fals dissait;
Nor cessit he neuer his purpos to persew25
Quhil the solysting of Calcas I mycht rew:
Bot quharto tell I or rehersis this,
That be na ways displesis ȝou, I wys?
Quhy tary I my deth? and ȝe lyst, stryke;
Gyf that ȝe favour all the Grekis elyke,30
This is enewch at ȝe haue hard of me:
Now haist my pane, sen algatis I mon de.
Vlixes, quhilk is kyng of Ithacy,
Wald it war swa, and with gret price wald by
My deth Agamemnon als, and Menalay.5
Than hastit we, and brynt to heir hym say,
Desyrus all the maner forto heir,
Mysknawyng the gret iniquiteis seir
And sle craftis of Grekis in euery deid.
He quakand than, as it had bene for dreid,10
Begouth forto tell furth the remanent,
Sayand on this wys, with ful dissemlyt entent:
The Grekis oft in purpos war and will
To fle from Troy and leif it standand still,
And, wery of thar lang weir, pas away;15
Wald God swa thai had done syne mony a day!
The seys rage and storm thame stoppit oft,
And from thar passage the north wynd onsoft
Held thame abak, in angwys and in feir;
And principaly now, sen this hors was heir20
Of hattyr gestis beldit vp, but dowt,
The stormy clowdis our al the ayr gan rowt.
We, dowtyng heiron, send the preste Erypilus
Answer to seik at the tempill of Phebus,
And from the secret oratory, suyth to sayn,25
Thir soroful tythyngis he ws brocht agane:
With blude and by the slauchtir of a maid,
Grekis, ȝe mesyt the wyndis first, he said,
Quhen that ȝe come of Troy to the cuntre;
Ȝour haym passage by blude mon fundyn be,30
And haue ȝour askyn by deth of a Gregyoun.
Quhen to the commonys eris ran the sown
Of thir wordis, with myndis affrayit, atanys
The cauld dreid ran in throu thar banys,
For feir quhamto was schape this destanye,5
Or quho it was Apollo desyrit to die.
Vlixes than, amang thame, with gret dyn,
Calcas the gret dyvynour has brocht in,
And bissely at hym inquiris he,
By respons of the goddis, quha suld de.10
Than mony ane demyt to me, ful rycht,
The cruel wraik of that dissaitful slycht,
And quyetly persavit how it wald wend.
This Calcas held his tong ten days to end,
Kepand secret and cloys al his entent,15
Refusyng with