The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Volumes 1 & 2. Virgil
ded body of Hector rendrit me,25
And me convoyit hame to my cite.
Thus sayand, the ald waykly, but fors or dynt,
A dart dyd cast, quhilk, with a pyk, gan stynt
On his harnes, and in the scheild dyd hyng,
But ony harm or other dammagyng.30
Quod Pyrrus, sen always thou saist swa,
To Pellyus son, my fader, thou most ga:
Beir hym this message, ramembir weil thou tell
Him al my warkis and dedis sa cruell;
Schaw Neoptolemus is degenerit cleyn.5
Now salt thou de: and with that word, in teyn,
The ald trymlyng toward the altare he drew,
That in the hait blude of his son, sched new,
Fundrit; and Pyrrus grippis hym by the hayr
With his left hand, and with the tother al bayr10
Drew furth his schynand swerd, quhilk in his syde
Festynnyt, and onto the hyltis dyd he hyde.
Of Priamus thus was the finale fait;
Fortone heir endit his gloryus estait,
Seand Ilion al byrn in fyris brown,15
And Troys wallis fall and tumlyt down;
That ryal Prince, vmquhile, our Asya,
Apon sa feil pepil and realmys alswa
Ryngnyt in welth, now by the cost lyis ded,
Bot as a stok, and of hakkit his hed;20
A corps, but lyfe, renown, or other fame,
Onknawyn of ony wight quhat was his name.
CAP. X.
Quhou Venus gan to Eneas appeir,
And of his fader and other materis seyr.
Fyrst than the grysly dreid about me start;
Astonyst I wolx, for sone prent in myne hart
The ymage of my deir fader, quhen I
The kyng his evyneild beheld sa cruelly
By deidly wound ȝaldand vp the spreit.
On dessolat Crevse, my spows sa sweit,
I thocht alsso, and dangeris of my place;5
Of litill Ascaneus sayr I dred the cace.
About I blent to behald, heir and thar,
Quha of our feris remanyt with me thar.
Al war thai fled full wery, left me alane;
Sum to the erd loppin from hie towris of stane;10
Sum in the fyre thar irkit bodeis leit fall;
Thar was na ma bot I left of thame all:
Quhen in the tempil of Vesta the goddas,
Lurkand ful law, intil a secrete place,
Tyndarus douchter, queyn Helene I espy;15
The fyrys schane sa brycht, as I went by,
All thing was patent quhar so euer I went.
Scho, dreding les the Troianys wald hir schent,
And kast sum way for hir distructioun,
Becaus all Troy, for hir, was thus bet doun,20
Sayr punytioun of Grekis dred scho, als
Hir husbandis wroth, quham scho left and was fals,
And eik the common fatale fury of Troy,
Hir self scho hyd tharfor, and held ful koy,
Besyde the altare sytting onethis seyn.25
My spreit for ire brynt in propir teyn,
And, al in greif, thocht cruel vengeans take,
Of my cuntre for this myschews wrake,
With byttir panys to wreke our harmys smart;
Thocht I, sal scho pas to the realm of Spart30
Hailskarth, and se Mycene hir natyve land,
And with triumphe follow hir fyrst husband?
Or, lyke a queyn, sal scho wend hame our see?
Hir frendis agane and childring sal scho se,
Accumpanyit with mony Troiane maid,5
And Phrygiane seruandis in bondage with hir had?
Sen now, by hir, with sword lyis Priam ded,
And ryal Troy all brynt in flambis red;
Of Dardane eik the strandis and the flude
Sa oft has bene waterit or bathit in blude.10
Na, na, nocht swa, I wys, that sal scho nocht:
And, set it be nocht lovabill nor semly thocht
To punys a woman, bot schameful hir to sla,
Na victory, bot lak followyng alswa;
Ȝit, netheles, I aucht lovit to be15
Vengeans to tak on hir deservis to de.
It wil my mynd asswage, forto be wrokyn
On hir quham by Troy brynt is and down brokyn,
And, forto eik the myscheif of hir ded
Til our sorowis, fyllit with assis red.20
Syk thingis I thocht half wod and furyus,
As owt of wit my mynd was cachit thus;
Quhen that my blissit moder, of sik bewte,
Apperit farer than euer I dyd hir se,
Schynyng ful cleir for al the dyrk nycht,25
Confessyng hir tobe a goddes brycht;
In sik form of quantite and estait
As scho is seyn with spretis deificat.
Me by the rycht hand hynt scho, and held fast,
And with hir rosy lippis thus said at last;30
Son, quha sa gret and furyus cruelte
And hie ondantit ire has rasyt in the?
Quhy gois thou mad? quhidder is went thus onkynd
Our ramembrance, or we forȝet of mynd?
Suld thou not first think quhar thou left, but les,5
Thi wery fader, the agit Anchises?
Wenys thou, or not, Crevsa ȝit levand be,
And Ascanyus thi ȝong son? quham al thre
The Grekis armyis walkis rownd about;
And, bot my myght rasistit thame, sans dout10
Thai had bene brynt or this in flambis red,
And with thar fays swordis smyt to ded.
Not the bewte of Helene Laconya,
Quham thou hatis, nor Parys, quhilk alswa
Is blamyt oft, this ryches has ȝou reft;15
Bot the wroth of the goddis has down beft
The city of Troy from top onto the grond.
Behald! (for I, within a litil stound,
The clowd of dyrknes from thi sycht so cleir,
That on ȝour mortell