Gawin Douglas - The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

Wyth skyrlys and with scrykis thus scho beris,
Fillyng the hows with murnyng and salt teris;
Quhen suddanly, a wonder thing to tell,
A feirful takyn betyd of gret mervell.
For lo! the top of litill Ascanyus hed,
Amang the duylfull armys wil of red
Of his parentis, from the sched of his crown,
Schane al of lycht onto the grond adown.
The leym of fyre and flambe, but ony skath,
In his haris, about his halffettis baith,
Kyndyllis vp brycht, and we than, al in weir,
Abasit, trymlyng for the dreidfull feir,
The blesand haris bet furth at brynt sa schyre,
And schupe with watir to sloyk the haly fyre.
Bot Anchises, my fader, blyth and glaid
Lyft eyn and handis to hevyn, and thus gatis said;
O thou almychty Jupiter, quod he,
With ony prayeris inclynyt gif thou may be,
Tak heid to ws, and gif we haue deseruyt,
For our piete and rewth, tobe conseruyt,
Haly fader, send ws thi help als ȝoir,
And conferm al thir takynnys seyn befor.
Scarsly the auld thir wordis had warpit owt,
Quhen sone the ayr begouth to rumbill and rowt
On our left hand, towart the north ful rycht,
And from the hevin fell, in the dyrk nycht,
A fayr brycht starn, rynnand with bemys cleir,
Quhilk on the top of our lugyng, but weir,
First saw we lycht, syne schynyng went awa
And hyd it in the forest of Ida,
Markand the way quhidder at we suld spur;
Thar followis a streym of fyre, or a lang fur,
Castand gret lycht about quhar that it schane,
Quhil al enveron rekit lyke bryntstane.
With that, my fader venquyst start on fute,
And to the goddis carpis tobe our bute,
The haly starn adornyt he rycht thar:
Now, now, quod he, I tary na langar;
I follow, and quhidder ȝe gyde me sal I wend.
O natyve goddis, ȝour awyn kynrent defend,
Salwe ȝour nevo; ȝouris is this oracle,
In ȝour protectioun is Troy, for this myracle
I wil obey, and grantis onto ȝour will:
My deir son, quhidder euer thou wend will,
I sal na mair reffus tobe thi feyr.
Thus sayd he, and be than, thar and heir,
Throw out the wallis the rerd of fyris grew
Ay mair and mair, and the heit nerrar drew.
Have done, quod I, fader, clym vp anone,
And set the evyn abuf my nek bone;
Apon my schuldris I sal the beir, but weyr,
Nor this lawbour sal do to me na deir:
Quhat euer betyde, a weilfair and a skaith
Salbe common and equale to ws baith.
Lytil Iulus salbeir me cumpany;
My spows on dreich eftyr our trays sal hy.
And ȝe, my seruandis, tak held quhat I say;
As ȝe pas furth of the cite this ilk way,
Thar is a mote, quhar ane ald tempil, but les,
Now standis desert of the goddes Ceres,
Besyde quham growis a sypir tre full auld,
With forfaderis, feil ȝeris, in wirschip hald;
In that place lat ws meit on athir syde.
Fader, sen that we may na langar byde,
Tak vp tha haly rellykis in thi hand,
And our penates or goddis of this land:
It war onleifful and wykkitnes to me
From sa gret slauchter, blude schedding, and melle
Newly departit, to twich thame, for the blude,
Quhil I be weschyn into sum rynnand flude.
And sayng thus, I spred my schulderis brayd,
Syne our my nek, abuf the wedis, laid
A ȝallow skyn was of a fers lyoun,
And tharapon gart set my fader down;
Lytil Iulus grippis me by the hand,
With onmeit pays his fader fast followand;
Neir at our bak Crevse, my spows, ensewys:
We pas by secret wentis and quyet rewys.
And me, quham laitly na wapyn, nor dartis kast,
Nor pres of Grekis rowtis maid agast,
Ilke swouch of wynd, and euery quhispir now,
And alkyn sterage affrayt, and causyt grow,
Baith for my byrdyng and my litil mait.
Quhen we war cummyn almaist to the ȝet,
And al danger we thocht eschapit neyr,
A fellon dyn, belyve, of feit we heir:
My fader than lukand furth throw the sky,
Cryis on me fast, fle son, fle son in hy!
Thai cum at hand; behynd me I gat a sycht
Of lemand armour and schynand scheildis brycht,
Thar knaw I nocht quhat fremmyt god onkynd
So me astonyst, and rest fra me my mynd:
For throu the secrete stretis fast I ran
Befor the laif, as weil bekend man;
Allace to me, catyve! I wait neuer quhydder
My spows Crevse remanyt or we come thydder,
Or by sum fait of goddis was reft away,
Or gif scho errit, or irkit by the way;
For nevir syne with eyn saw I hyr eft,
Nor neuer abak, fra scho was lost or reft,
Blent I agane, nor perfyte mynd has nummyn,
Quhil to the mote of Ceres war we cummyn.
And fynaly, quhen we beyn gadderit thidder,
Fast by the haly tempil al togidder,
Scho was away, and betrumpit suythly
Hyr spows, hir son, and all the cumpany.
Than wod for wo, so was I quyte myscaryit
That nowder god nor man I left onwaryit:
For quhat mair hard myschance, quhen Troy down fell,
Apperit to me as that, or sa cruell?
Ascanyus tho, and my fader Anchises,
And eik our Troiane goddis penates,
Onto my feris betauch I, for to keip,
And hyd thame darn within a valy deip.
To town agane I sped with al my mycht,
Claspit ful meit into fyne armour brycht,
Wilful al aventuris newlyngis to assay,
And forto sers Troy, euery streit, and way,
And eik my hed agane in perrell set.
Bot first the wallis, the darn entre, and ȝet,
Quharat we yschit furth, I seik agane,
Haldyng bakwart ilk futstep we had gane,
Lukand and sersand about me as I myght.
The vgsumnes and silens of the nycht
In euery place my spreit maid sayr agast.
Fra thyne ontil our lugyng hame I past,
To spy perchance gif scho had thidder returnyt;
It was with Grekis beset, and hail ourturnyt,
Alhail the hows with thame sa occupyit:
Belyve the fyre al waistand I espyit
Bles with the wynd; our the rufe, heir and thar,
The flambe vpsprang and hait low in the ayr.

To Priamus palyce eftyr socht I than,
And syne onto the tempil fast I ran:
Quhar, at the porchis or clostir of Juno,
Than al bot waist, thocht it was gyrth, stude tho
Phenix and dowr Vlixes, wardanys tway,
Forto observe and keip the spreth or pray.
Thydder in a hepe was gadderit precyus geir,
Riches of Troy, and other jowellis seyr
Reft from all partis; and of tempillis brynt
Of massy gold the veschel war furth hynt
From the goddis, and goldyn tabillis all,
With precyus vestmentis of spulȝe triumphall:
The ȝyng childring, frayt matronys eik,
Stude al on raw, with mony petuus screik
Abowt the tresour quhymperand wondir sayr.
And I alsso my self sa bald wolx thair
That I durst schaw my voce in the dyrk nycht,
And clepe and cry fast throw the stretis on hycht
Ful dolorusly, Crevsa! Crevsa!
Agane, feil sys, invane I callit swa
Throu howsys and the cite quhar I ȝoyd,
But owder rest or resson, as I war woyd;
Quhil that the figur of Crevsa and gost,
Of far mair statur than ayr quhen scho was lost,
Befor me, catyve, hyr sekand, apperit thar.
Abasyt I wolx, and widdyrsyns start my hayr;
Speke mycht I not, the voce in my hals swa stak.
Than scho, belyfe, on this wys to me spak,
With sik wordis my thochtis to asswage:
O my sweit spows, into sa furyus rage
Quhat helpis thus thi selwyn to torment?
This chance is not, but goddis willis went;
Nor it is nocht leifful thing, quod sche,
Fra hyne Crevse thou turs away with the,
Nor the hie governour of the hevin abufe is
Wil suffir it so tobe; bot the behuffis
From hens to wend ful far into exile,
And our the braid sey sail furth mony a myle,
Or thou cum to the land Hesperya,
Quhar, wyth soft cowrs, Tybris of Lydya
Rynnys throu the rych feldis of pepil stowt:
Thar is gret substans ordanyt the, but dowt,
Thar salt thou have a realm, thar salt thou ryng,
And wed to spows the douchtir of a kyng.
Thy wepyng and thi teris do away,
Quhilk thou makis for thi luffyt Crevsay;
For I, the neyce of mychty Dardanus,
And gude douchtyr onto the blyssit Venus,
Of Myrmydonys the realm sal nevir behald,
Nor ȝit the land of Dolopeis so bald,
Nor go to serve na matron Gregion;
Bot the gret modir of the goddis ilkan
In thir cuntreis withhaldis me for evyr.
Adew, fayr weil, for ay we mon dissevir!
Thou be gude frend, lufe weil, and keip fra skath
Our a ȝong son is common til ws baith.
Quhen this was spokkyn, fra me away scho glaid,
Left me wepyng and feil wordis wald have said;
For sche sa lychtly vanysyt in the ayr,
That with myne armys thrys I presyt thar
About the hals hir fortil haue belappit,
And thrys, al waist, my handis togidder clappit:
The figur fled as lycht wynd, or the son beym,
Or maist lykly a waverand swevyn or dreym.
Thus finaly, the nycht al passit and gane,
Onto my falloschip I return agane,
Quhar that I fand assemlyt, al newly,
So huge a rowt of our folkis that I
Wondryt the nowmyr; thai sa mony weir
Of men and women gadderit al infeir,
And ȝong pepil to pas in exile abill,
And of commonys a sort sa miserabill,
Fra euery part that flokkyng fast about,
Baith with gude wil and thar moblis, but dout,
Reddy to wend in quhat cost or cuntre
That evir me list to cary thame our see.
Wyth this the day starn, Lucifer the brycht,
Abuf the top of Ida rays on hycht,
Gydand the day hard at his bak followyng;
The Grekis than we se in the mornyng
Stand forto kepe the entreis of the portis:
And thus, quhen na hope of reskew, at schort, is,
My purpos I left, obeyand destanye,
And careit my fader to Ida hyll on hie.