by Virgil
Lurkand ful law intil a secrete place,
Tyndarus douchter, Queyn Helene, I espy —
The fyrys schane sa brycht as I went by
All thing was patent quhar so euer I went.
Scho dreding less the Troianys wald hir schent
And kast sum way for hir distructioun
Becauss al Troy for hir was thus bet doun,
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.
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 pass to the realm of Spart
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
And Phrygiane seruandis in bondage with hir had —
Sen now by hir with swerd lyis Priam ded
And ryal Troy all brynt in flambis red,
Of Dardane eik the strandis and the flude
Sa oft hass bene waterit or bathit in blude?
Na, na, nocht swa, I wyss, that sal scho nocht;
And set it be nocht lovabill nor semly thocht
To punyss a woman, bot schameful hir to sla,
Na victory, bot lak, followyng alswa,
it netheless I aucht lovit tobe
Vengeans to tak on hir deservis to de.
It wil my mynd asswage fortobe wrokyn
On hir quhamby Troy brynt is and down brokyn,
And forto eik the myscheif of hir ded
Til our sorowis fyllit with assis red.
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,
Confessyng hir tobe a goddess brycht
In sik form of quantite and estait
As scho is seyn with spretis deificait.
Me by the rycht hand hynt scho and held fast
And with hir rosy lippis thus said at last:
‘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 foret of mynd?
Suld thou not first think quhar thou left but less
Thi wery fader, the agit Anchises?
Wenys thou or not Crevsa it levand be
And Ascanyus thi ong son, quam al thre
The Grekis armyis walkis rownd about,
And bot my myght rasistit thame, sans dout
Thai hadbene brynt or this in flambis red,
And with thar fays swordis smyte to ded.
Not the bewte of Helene Laconya,
Quham thou hatis, nor Parys, quhilk alswa
Is blamyt oft, this rychess has ou reft;
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 dyrkness from thi sycht so cleir,
That on our mortell eyn, quhill e beyn heir,
Lyke to ane watry slowch standis dym about;
Thi moderis heist on na wyss nedis the dowt,
Na hir command refusyng to obey)
Quhar thir towris thou seys down fall and swey,
And stane fra stane down bet, and reyk vp ryss,
With stew, powder and duste myxt on this wyss,
Neptune the fundmentis of thir wallis hie,
With his gret mattok havand granys thre,
Vndermyndis rownd about the towne,
Furth of the grond holkand the barmkyn doun.
Maist cruel Iuno hass, or this, alsswa
Saysit with the fyrst the port clepit Sceya,
And from the schippis the ostis in scho callis,
Standing wod wraith enarmyt on the wallis.
The hie castellis and strenthis to and fra,
Behald, now Pallas of Tritonya
All occupyis, schynyng in weirlyke weid,
Fell Gorgones hed into hir scheild, tak heid.
The gret fader Iupiter strenth and mycht
Distributis happely to the Grekis in fyght,
And eik the goddis ire prouokis he
Aganys Troianys power in the melle.
Fle thou, my son, in haist away thou wend,
And of this laubour onprofitabil mak ane end;
I salbe with the soverly and ful koy,
Quhil to thi faderis et I the convoy.’
Thus sayand, scho hir hyd in the cloyss nycht.
Than terribil figuris apperis to my sycht
Of gret goddis, semand with Troy agrevit;
And tho beheld I al the cite myschevit,
Fayr Illion all fall in gledis down,
And, fra the soyll, gret Troy, Neptunus town,
Ourtumlyt to the grond — so as he se
The lauboreris into the montanys hie
With steil axsis byssely hak and hew
A mekil ayk that mony eir thar grew;
The tre branglis bostyng to the fall,
With top trymlyng, and branchis schakand all;
Quhil finaly it get the lattyr straik,
Than with a rair down duschis the mekil aik,
And with his fard brekis down bewis about.
Furth of that sted I went, and throu the rowt
Of ennemyis and flambis I me sped
(The fyre and wapynnys gave me place) and fled.
So happely the goddes gydit me,
Quhil that within the portis and entre
Of my faderis lugyng am I cummyn;
My fader than, quham I schupe to haue nummyn
And caryit to the nerrest hillys hycht,
And hym tharto solist with al my mycht;
Bot he reffusys or euer to leif in ioy
Eftir the rewyne and distructioun of Troy —
To suffir exile he said that he ne couth.
‘O e,’ quod he, ‘in blude and florist outh
That has our strenth it and our forcy mycht,
Pass on our way onone, and tak the flycht.
Gif goddis lykyt lenth my life langar space,
Thai wald haue salwyt to me this litil place.
It is eneuch, eneuch and mair, I weyn,
A distructioun of Troy that we haue seyn,
Remanyng alyve eftyr the cite tane.
So, so, hald on, leif this ded body alane;
Say the last quething word, adew, to me.
I sal my deth purchess thus,’ quod he:
‘Quhen our ennemyss seys me enarmyt stand,
Sum sal haue reuth and sla me with his brand
To get my spule — quhat of the body na cure:
The corps is sone warpit in sepulture.
Hatit of the goddis, to all nedis onhabill,
Thir mony eris I left inprofitabill,
Ay sen the fader of goddis and kyng of men
With thunderis blast me smate, as that e ken,
And with his fyry levin me omberauch,
That we intill our langage clepe fyreflauch.’
Rehersyng this, fermly he dyd remane
At his first purpos fixt, and we agane
Furthetting teris, and our spowss Crevsa,
Ascanyus yng, and al our mene alswa
Besowth my fader to salue his wery banys,
And not be wilful to peryss all atanys,
And to escheif the chance as it was went:
Plat he ref
fusys, anherdyng to his entynt,
The fyrst sentence haldyng euer ane.
To start to harnes I am compeld agane,
And, as maste wrachit and miserabil catyve,
Ded I desyrit, and irkyt of my lyve;
For by na wysdome nor chance persave I mycht
We couth eschape, nor it by forss in fyght.
‘O deir fader, quhat wenys thou for ded,
A fut,’ quod I, ‘me to steir of this sted,
And leif the heir? O God! quha euer couth
Sik cryme to me be said of faderis mouth!
Bot gif it lykis to the goddis hie
Na thing be left of sa fayr a cite,
Or gyf thou hest in mynd decretit eik,
And weil lykis thi self and thine to eik
Onto the rewyne of Troy, and tobe schent,
Ded at our dur is reddy and patent.
From mekil blude schedding of Priamus
Hiddir, belyfe, sal cum cruell Pyrrus,
Quhilk brytnys the son befor the faderis face,
And gorris the fader at the altare but grace.
Is this the way, my haly moder, at thou
Suld kepe me, fays and fyris passand throu,
That I behald, within my chawmyr secrete,
Myne ennemyss, and se Ascanyus swete,
My deir fader, and Crevsa my wyfe,
Ahtir in otheris hait blude leyss thar lyfe?
Harness, seruandis, harnes bryng hydder sone!
The lattyr end, thus venquyst and ondone,
Callys ws agane to batale and assay;
Adone, cum on, this is our lattir day.
Rendir me to the Grekis, or suffir me
The bargane agane begun at I may se;
This day onwrokyn we sal neuer all be slane.’
Abowt me than my swerd I belt agane,
And schot my left arme in my scheild al meit,
Bownyng me furth, quhen lo, abowt my feit
My spowss lappit fell down into the et,
And litill Iulus forgane his fader vpset:
‘Gyf thou lyst pass,’ quod scho, ‘thi self to spill,
Harl ws with the in all perrell quhar thou will;
Bot gif thou trastis, as expert in thi dedis,
Ony help by forss of armys, than the nedis
First to defend and kepe this howss,’ quod scho,
‘Quharin thi ong son and thi fader beyn, lo!
And I vmquhile that salbe clepit thi spowss;
Quham to sall we be left in this waist howss?’”
Quhou Eneas hys fader bayr away,
And how he lost Crevsa by the way.
“Wyth skyrlys and with scrykis thus sche beris,
Fillyng the howss with murnyng and salt teris,
Quhen suddanly, a wonder thing to tell,
A feirful takyn betyd of gret marvell.
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 thusgatis said:
‘O thou almychty Iupiter,’ 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 oir,
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 e gyde me sal I wend.
O natyve goddis, our awyn kynrent defend,
Salwe our nevo; ouris is this oracle,
In our protectioun is Troy, for this myracle
I wil obey, and grantis onto our will:
My deir son, quhidder euer thou wend will,
I sal na mair reffuss 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 onone
And set the evyn abuf my nek bone;
Apon my schuldris I sal the beir, but weyr,
Nor this lawbour saldo to me na deir:
Quhat euer betyde, a weilfair and a skaith
Salbe common and equale to wss baith.
Lytil Iulus salbeir me cumpany,
My spowss ondreich eftyr our trayss sal hy.
And e, my seruandis, tak heid quhat I say:
As e pass furth of the cite this ilk way,
Thar is a mote, quhar ane ald tempil, but less,
Now standis desert of the goddess Ceress,
Besyde quham growis a sypir tre full auld,
With forfaderis feil eris in wirschip hald;
In that place lat wss 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 onleiffull 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 allow skyn was of a fers lyoun,
And tharapon gart set my fader down;
Lytil Iulus grippis me by the hand,
With onmeit payss his fader fast followand:
Neir at our bak Crevse my spowss ensewys:
We pass by secret wentis and quyet rewyss.
And me, quhan laitly na wapyn, nor dartis kast,
Nor press of Grekis rowtis maid agast,
Ilke swowch 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 et,
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 reft 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 spowss 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 s
yne 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 togydder,
Scho was away, and betrumpit suythly
Hyr spowss, 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 serss Troy, euery streit and way,
And eik my hed agane in perrell set.
Bot first the wallis, the darn entre and et,
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 howss with thame sa occupyit;
Belyve the fyre al waistand I espyit
Bless with the wynd; our the rufe, heir and thar,
The flambe vpsprang and hait low in the ayr.”
Quhou Eneas socht hys sposs, al the cost,
And how to hym apperis hir gret gost.
“To Priamus palyce eftyr socht I than,
And syne onto the tempil fast I ran,
Quhar at the porchis or clostir of Iuno,
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,
Richess of Troy, and other iowellis 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 spule triumphall;
The yng childring, effrayt 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 throu the stretis on hycht
Ful dolorusly, ‘Crevsa! Crevsa!’
Agane, feil syss, invane I callit swa
Throu howsys and the cite quhar I oyd,
