The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Volumes 1 & 2. Virgil
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,30
And evin saplynnys of myrthus, the tre funerale.
Thiddir I went, greyn bewis doune to haill,
Hard by the grond myne altare forto dycht
With burgyonys and with branchis al at rycht:
A grysly takyn, feirful to tell, I se.5
As from the soyll vprent was the first tre
By the rutys, the blak droppis of blude
Distillit tharfra, that al the erth quhar it stude
Was spottit of the fylth, and stenyt, allaik!
The cald dreid maid all my membris quaik,10
And for effeir my blude togidder fresyt.
Ane other smal twyst of a tre I chesit
Forto brek down, the causys to assay
Of this mater, that war onknawyn alway;
And ȝit the blude followit on the sam maneir15
Furth 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 glaid20
Our 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,25
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 law
I hard, and to myne eris come this saw:30
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.5
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;10
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 Priamus15
Secretly vmquhile send this Polidorus,
Quhilk was his son, to Polynestor kyng
Of Trace, to kepe and haue in nurysyng,
Quhen first of Troiane defens begouth he dowt,
And saw the town besegyt all abowt.20
Bot this ilk kyng of Trace, seand how Troy
Lossyt 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,25
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 do
At thou constrenys not mortale myndis tharto?30
Eftir this effray was fra my banys went,
Of the goddis thir feirfull wordis quent
Onto the noblis and grettast of our men,
And to my fader fyrst, rehers I then,
And, quhat thar purpos was, eik I inquir.5
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 beyr10
We erekkit, and of erd a gret fluyr
Kest 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,15
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:20
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 strandis5
Fillit 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 Egeos
Ane haly iland lyis, that hait Delos,10
Beluffit of Neptune, and the moder alswa
Of 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,15
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.20