by Virgil
The worthy Dido to hald in fresch memory,
So lang as that my self remembir may I,
Or quhil the spreit of lyfe this body steris.
As the mater requiris, a litil heris:
I purposyt nocht forto hyde thyftuusly
My vayage, nor, as e weyn, secretly
Away to steil; quhat nedis ou sa tofeyn?
For I pretendit nevir, be na meyn,
With ou to mak the band of mariage,
Nor in that ok, ne frendschip in Cartage,
yt come I nevir: bot gif the fatis, but pled,
At my plesour sufferit me lyfe to led,
At my fre wil my warkis to modyfy,
The cite of Troy than first agane suld I
Restore, and of our deir frendis remanys
Gaddir togiddir, and to the venquist Troianys
Raparal with my handis agane thar wallis,
And beild vp Priamus palyce at now fallis.
Bot sen Appollo, clepit Gryneus,
Gret Italy to seik commandis wss,
To Itale eik oraclys of Lycia
Admonyst ws, but mair delay, to ga;
Thar is my lust now and delyte at hand,
Thar is my cuntre and my natyve land.
Gif the, of Cartage the burgh and towris swa,
Quhilk art a woman of Phenycia,
And the aspect of citeis Affricane
Delytis, and withhaldis heir toremane,
Quhat wrang is it, causs of envy or schame,
Thocht Troianys seik to Itale for thar hame?
Or is it nocht als lesum and ganand
That fynaly we seik to onkouth land?
Als oft as day is gone, and the dyrk nycht
With hir donk schaddow hydis of the erth the sycht,
Als oft as schynyng starnys doith vpryss,
My faderis gost, Anchises, als feil syss
Into my sleip mannasis me tharto fast,
And oft his feirfull ymage doith me agast;
And in lyke wyss the child Ascanyus,
Quhais deir hed suffir iniurys is hard to ws,
Quham of the realm of Itail I defraud,
And fra the grond to hym promyst withhawd.
Be athir of our hedis this I sweir;
Now laitly eik of goddis the messynger,
From hie Iupiter in hasty message sent,
Down throu the ayr brocht the ilk commandment:
On fair day lycht, myne awyn self dyd I se
Mercur the god entyr in this cite,
And his wordis with thir sam eris hard I.
With thy complayntis ony langar, forthy,
Lat be to vex me, or thy self to spyll,
Sen I seik nocht to Itale with fre will.”
Of the scharp wordys Queyn Dydo dyd say,
And how Eneas bownys fast away.
Dydo, aggrevit ay quhil he his tayl tald,
With acquart luke gan towart hym behald,
Rollyng vmquhile hir eyn, now heir, now thar,
With syght onstabil waverand our alquhar,
And all enragyt thir wordis gan furth braid:
“Nothir wes a goddes thy moder, as is sayd,
Nor yt Kyng Dardanus cheif stok of thi kyn,
Thou treuthless wyght, bot of a cald, hard quhyn
The clekkyt that horribill mont, Cawcasus hait —
Thou sowkyt nevir womanis breist, weil I wait,
Bot of sum cruel tygir of Araby
The pappis the fosterit in the wod Hyrcany.
To quhat effect suld I hym langar perswaid,
Or quhat bettir may beleve than he hess said?
Quhiddir gif he murnyt quhen we wepit and walyt?
Quhiddir gif he steryt his eyn, as ocht hym alyt?
Quhidder gif for rewth he furth et anys a teyr
Or of hys lufe had piete? Na, not to eir.
Quhou sal I begyn, quhat first, quhat last to say?
Now, now, nothir gretast Iuno, wallaway,
Nor Saturnys son, hie Iupiter, with iust eyn
Hess our querrell considerit, na ourseyn;
For no quhar now faith nor lawte is fund.
I ressavyt hym schypbrokkyn fra the sey grund,
Wilsum, and mystyrfull of al warldis thyng,
Syne, myndles, maid hym my fallow in this ryng:
Hys navy lost reparalyt I, but faill,
And hys feris fred from the deth alhaill.
Allace! enragyt or enchantit am I;
Quhen now Appollo, with hys sossery,
And quhilis, he says, the kavillys of Lycia,
And quhilis, fra Iupiter down sent alsswa,
The messynger of goddis bryngis throu the skyis
Sa feirful charge and command on this wyss:
Lyke as the goddis abufe nocht ellys rocht,
Bot on thi passage war al thar cuyr and thocht.
Nothir wil I hald the, nor thi wordis contrar:
Pass on thi way, towart Itale thou fair;
Seik throu the fludis with wyndis to that ryng.
Forsuyth, gif reuthfull goddis may ony thing,
Amyd thi way, I traist on rolkis blak
Thou sal deir by thy treuth thou to me brak,
And clep oft my richt name, ‘Dido, Dido!’
With fyre infernale, in thine absens alsso,
I sal the follow; and, fra the cald ded
Reif from my membris this sawle, in euery sted
My gost salbe present the to agryss;
Thou salt, onworthy wyght, apon this wyss
Be punyst weil; and tharof wald I heyr —
The fame tharof sal cum onto myne eyr,
Vndir the erth, amang the schaddowys law.”
And this spokkyn, hir sermond with the ilk saw
Brak scho in twane, ful dolorus in hir thocht:
The lycht scho fled, and als fast as scho mocht
Turnys frawart hym, and wyskyt of hys sycht,
On seir materis leifand hym pensyve wight,
And purposyng to haue said mony thyngis.
The damycellis fast to thar lady thryngis,
That was in dedly swoun plat for dispar:
Vp thai hyr hynt, and to hyr chawmyr bayr,
Quhilk was of marbill wrocht, and in hir bed
Laid softly down apon rych carpettis spred.
Bot yt, althocht the reuthful Eneas
The dolorus queyn to meyss ful bissy was,
To do hir comfort, and hir dyseyss asswage,
And with hys wordis return hir sad curage,
Bewalyng mekill hyr sorow and distress,
Proplexte in mynd by gret lufe; netheless,
The command of the goddis, by and by,
He execut, and vysseys hys navy.
Than byssely the Troianys fell to wark,
And mony gret schyp, ballyngar and bark
Langis the cost brocht in and bet full weill.
Now fletis the mekil holk with tallonyt keyll.
The burgionyt treys on burd thai bring for aris,
Weltis down in woddis gret mastis, and na thing sparis,
Saysyng half onwrocht, so ithand thai war fair bown.
Rynnand heir and thar and wendyng fast of town,
he mycht haue seyn thame haist, lyke emmotis grete
Quhen thai depule the mekill byng of quhete,
And in thar byke it careis, all and sum,
Providing for the cald wyntir tocum:
The blak swarm our the feildis walkis arn,
Tursand throu the gerss thar pray to hydlys darn:
Sum on thar nek the gret cornys vpwrelis,
And our the furris bissely tharwith spelys;
Sum constrenyng the otheris fast to wirk,
And sum the sleuthful chasteis, that thocht irk
Of thar labour; quhil euery rod and went
Wolx of thar ithand wark hait, quhar thai went.
Quhou Dydo send hir systir Ene to pray,
And of the grysly syngnys dyd hir affray.
Quhat tho
cht thou now, Dydo, seand thir thingis?
Quhou mony sobbys gave thou and womentyngis
Quhen thou, out of thi castell from the hycht,
The large costis beheld thus at a sycht
Ourspred with Troianys, in fervent bissynes
Gan spedely for thar vayage addres,
And of thar clamour befor thine eyn dyd se
Dyn and resoundyng al the large see?
O wytles lufe! quhat may be thocht or do,
At thou constrenys nocht mortell myndis tharto?
Scho is compellit to fal agane to teris
And Eneas assay with new prayeris,
And condiscendyt hir provd hart to submyt
Onto the strenth of lufe thus anys yt:
Less scho onwar, but causs, hir deth purvayt,
Hir list na thyng behynd leif onassayt.
Till hir scho gan hir systir call inhy:
“Annes,” quod scho, “thou seys how byssely,
Our al the cost, for this vayage haist thai,
And now the wynd blawis weil to sail away:
The maryneris glaid lays thar schippis vndyr croys.
O systir! in tyme kouth I haue trowyt this loyss
And sa gret dolour, I had providyt, but weir,
That this displesour suld haue beyn eith to beir.
And netheless, for me, onhappy wight,
Do this a thing, Annes, with al thi mycht,
Sen on ilk faithles man, deir systir, the
Was wont to cheryss and hald in gret dante
And als hys secretis onto the reveill —
Hys sweit entres sum tyme thou knew ful weill,
Nane bot thou only the tyme of hys cummyng.
Pass on, systir, in my name this a thyng
Say lawly to my provd fa and declair
That in the port Aulyda I neuer swair
With the Grekis the Troianys to distroy,
Nor I non navy send to sege Troy,
Nor yt his fader Anchises graf schent —
I nothir the muldis nor banys tharof rent.
Quhy doith he reffuss my wordis and prayeris
To lat entir in his dul ontretabill eris?
Quhidder haistis he sa fast from hys behufe?
Beseik hym grant ontil his wrachyt lufe
This lattir reward, sen algatis he wil fle:
Tary quhil wynd blaw soft, and stabill see.
His ald promys na mair wil I hym crave,
Nor band of wedlok, quhilk he hes dissave,
Nor yt him pray go not to Italy,
Ne leif fair realmys onto him destany:
A litil delay I ask, but othir eyss,
A space my furour to asswage and meyss,
Quhill that my frawart forton and estait
Of my beleve schaw me I am frustrait,
And tech me for to murn mair paciently.
This lattir gift only at hym ask I.
Haue mercy, systir, of thy systir deyr —
Quhilk seruyce quhen thou done hess, without weir,
I sal the recompens weil twentyfald,
And quhil my ded the sam in memor hald.”
With syklyke wordis hir request scho maid,
Hir supplicatioun, with teris ful onglaid,
Reportis hir systir, and answer brocht agane
Quhou al hir prayeris and desyre was invane,
For al thar wepyng mycht not him anys steir;
Nane of thar wordis lykis hym to heir,
Thocht he of natur was tretabill and curtass.
The fatis war contrar thar desyre netheless,
And hys benyng eris the goddis dyttit,
That of thar askyng thar was nocht admittit.
And lyke as quhen the ancyant aik tre,
With hys byg schank, by north wynd oft we se
Is ombeset, to bet hym down and ourthraw,
Now heir, now thar, with the fell blastis blaw,
The swouchand byr quhisland amang the granys,
So that the hyast branchys, al atanys,
Thar croppys bowis towart the erth als tyte,
Quhen with the dynt the maister schank is smyte;
And, netheles, the ilk tre, fixit fast,
Stikkis to the rochis, not doun bet with the blast:
For quhy? als far as his crop heich on breid
Strekis in the ayr, als far hys rute doith spreid
Deip vndir erth, towart the hell adoun —
The sammyn wyss was this gentil baroun,
Now heir, now thar, with wordis ombeset,
And in his stout breist, ful of thochtis het,
Of reuth and amouris felt the perturbance.
Bot euer his mynd stude ferm, for ony chance
Onmovyt, quhar hys fyrst purposs was set,
That al for nocht the teris war furthet.
Than suythly, the fey Dydo, al affrayt,
Seand fatis contrar, eftir deth prayt:
Scho irkit of hir lyfe, or to tak tent
Forto behald the hevynnys firmament.
Tharfor, in takyn hir purposs to fulfill,
And leif the lycht of lyfe, as was hyr will,
As on the altaris byrnand ful of senss
The sacrifyce scho offerit, in hir presence,
A grisly thyng to tell, scho gan behald
In blak adyll the hallowyt watir cald
Changyt and altyr, and furthet wynys gude
Onon returnyt into laithly blude.
This visioun sche to nane reveil wald,
Nor yt to An, hir deir systir, it tald.
In wirschip eik, within hir palyce et,
Of hir first husband, was a tempil bet
Of marbill, and hald in ful gret reverens,
With snaw quhite bendis, carpettis and ensens,
And festuale burgeonys arrayt, on thar gyss;
Tharin was hard vocis, spech and cryis
Of hir said spouss, clepand hir ful lowd,
Evir quhen the dyrk nycht dyd the erth schrowd.
And oft with wild scryke the nycht owle,
Heich on the rufe, alane, was hard owle
With langsum voce and a ful petuus beir.
And eik bygane the feirful sawis seyr
Of the dyvynys, with terribil monysyngis,
Affrayt hir by mony grysly syngis.
And in hir sleip, wod wroth, in euery place
Hir semyt cruel Eneas gan hir chace;
And evir, hir thocht, scho was left al alane,
And, but cumpany, mony far way had gane,
To seik hir folkis in a wilsum land —
Lyke Kyng Pentheus, in his wod rage dotand,
Thocht he beheld gret rowtis stand in staill
Of the Ewmenydes, fureys infernale,
And in the lyft twa sonnys schynand cleir,
The cite of Thebes gan dowbil to hym appeir;
Or lyke Orestes, son of Agamenon,
On theatreis, in farcis mony one,
Rowpyt and sung how he his moder fled,
With fyre brondis and blak serpentis ourcled,
And saw the furyis, and grisly goddis fed,
Sittand in the tempill port to wrek hir ded.
Quhou Dydo queyn, hir purposs to covert,
Of enchantment dyd contyrfait the art.
Thus quhen Dydo had caucht this frenasy,
Ourset with sorow and syk fantasy,
And determyt fermly that scho wald de,
The tyme quhen and maner quhou it suld be
Compasyng in hir breist, but mair abaid
Onto hir dolorus systir thus scho sayd,
Hir purposs by hir vissage dissymuland,
Schawand by hir cheir gude hope and glad sembland:
“Systir germane,” quod scho, “away our smart;
Beys of our systeris weilfar glaid in hart.
I haue the way fundyn, quharby one syre
Salbe to me rendryt at my desyre,
Or me delyvir from hys lufe al fre.
Neyr by the end of the gret occiane see,
Thar as the son declynys and goys doun,
At the far syde of Ethiope regioun,
A place thar is, quhar that the huge Atlas
On schuldyr rollys the round speir in cumpass,
Full of thir lemand starnys, as we se:
Thar dwellys, systir, as it is schaw to me,
Ane haly nun, a ful gret prophetess,
Born of the pepill of Massylyne, I gess,
And wardane of the ryal tempil, thai sa,
Set in the gardyngis hecht Hesperida,
And to the walkryfe dragon mete gave sche,
That kepyt the goldyn apyllis in the tre,
Strynkland to hym the wak hunny sweit,
And sleipryfe chesbow seyd, to quykkyn his spreit.
This woman hechtis, with hir enchantmentis,
From luffis bandis to lowss al thar ententis
Quham so hir lyst, and bynd other sum alsso
In langsum amouris vehement payn and wo.
The rynnand fludis thar watir stop kan scho mak,
And eik the starnys turn thar courss abak,
And on the nycht the ded gastis assemmyll:
Vndir thi feyt the erd rayr and trymmyll
Thou most se, throw hir incantatioun,
And from the hillys treys discendyng down.
To wytnes the gret goddis draw I heyr,
And thy sweit hed, myne awyn systir deir,
Agane my wil, ful sayr constrenyt am I
Art magyk to excers or sossary.
Richt secretly intil our innar closs,
Vndir the oppyn sky, to this purposs
Pass on, and of treys thou byg a byng
Tobe a fyre, and tharapon thou hyng
on mannys sword, quhilk that wikkyt wight
Left stykand in our chawmyr this hyndir nyght,
Hys cote armour, and othir clethyng all,
And eik that maist wrachit bed coniugall,
Quharin I perychit and wes schent, allace!
For so the religyus commandyt hass,
To omdo and distroy al maner thyng
Quhilk may on wareit man to memor bring.”
This sayd, scho held hir tong; and tharwithall
Hir vissage wolx als pail as ony wall.
Thocht Annes wenyt not hir systir wald
Graith sacryfice for hir ded body cald,
Nor that syk fury was in hyr breist consavyt;
For by na resson dred sche, nor persavyt
Now mor displesour or harmys apperand
Than for Sycheus ded, hir first husband:
Quharfor, scho hes hir command done ilk deill.
Bot quhen the gret byng was vpbeildit weill
Of ayk treys and fyrryn schydis dry,
Within the secrete closs, vndyr the sky,
The place with flowris and garlandis stentis the queyn,
And crownys about with funerale bewis greyn.
Abuf the mowe the forsaid bed was maid,
Quharin the figur of Ene scho layd,
