by Virgil
Tasyt vp dartis, taclys and fleand flanys;
The contyr or first tocome for the nanys
Full ardent wolx, and awfull forto se,
The men byrnand to ioyn in the melle,
And furour grew of stedis sterand on stray.
Now thai, approchyng sammyn in array
Within ane arow schot on athyr syde,
Syne maid a litill stop, and still dyd byde;
Rasyt vp a schowt, bad on thame with a cry,
Quhil bruyt and clamour fordynnyt the sky.
Thar fers stedis dyd for the bargane cheir;
On athir half thai mak a weirlike feir;
And tharwithall at anys on every sydis
The dartis thik and fleand takyllys glydis,
As doith the schour of snaw, and with thar flycht
Dyrknyt the hevynnys and the skyis lyght.
Tyrrhenus tho, ane of the Tuscane rowt,
And Acontevs, a Rutilyane full stowt,
Togidder semblyt with thar speris ran,
To preif the first fall sammyn, man for man.
Thai meit in melle with a felloun rak,
Quhil schaftis al to schuldris with a crak;
Togiddir duschis the stowt stedis atanys,
That athyris contyr fruschyt otheris banys.
And Aconteus, lyke to the thundris blast,
Smyte from hys sadill a far way was cast,
Or lyke a stayn warpyt from the engyne,
That altofruschit dovn he dyd declyne,
With sik rebund and rewyne wonder sair
That he his lyfe hes sparpellit in the ayr.
All suddanly the Latynys tuke affray
And gaue the bak bedeyn, and fled away,
Thar scheldis our thar schuldris kest behynd,
And to the tovn spurris als ferss as wynd.
The Troianys dyd persewyng on the chayss,
And fast invadis thame Prynce Asyllas.
Quhen thai approchyng to the portis neir,
The Latyn pepill returnys all infeir,
Thar weill dantit horss nekkis quhelit abowt,
Syne gaue a cry, and on thame with a schowt:
The tother party than hess tane the flight,
Leit ga the brydill, and fled in all thar mycht.
Lyke as the flowand sey with fludis rude
Now ruschis to the land, as it war woyd,
And on the skelleys at the costis bay
Vpswakkis fast the fomy wallys gray,
And with his iawpys coverys in and owt
The far sandis our the bay abowt;
Now with swyft fard gois ebband fast abak,
That with hys bulrand iaschis and owt swak
With hym he sowkis and drawys mony stayn,
And levis the strandis schald and sandis plane —
The Tuscane folk the Latynys on sik wyss
Onto the cite wallys chasyt twyss;
And twyss thar self dyd fle and gif the bak,
With scheldis at defens behynd thame swak.
Bot tharefter the thryd assay thai mak,
The ostis sammyn ionyt with a crak,
That euery man hess chosyn hym his feir.
And than, forsuyth, the granys men mycht heir
Of thame that stervyn and dovn bettyn beyn,
That armour, wapynnys, and ded corpss bedeyn,
And stedis throwand on the grond that weltis,
Mydlit with men quhilk eld the gaste and sweltis,
Bedowyn lay full deip in thar awyn blude.
The stowr encressis furyus and woyd.
Orsilochus, a Troiane, with all his forss
Dressis his lans at ane Remulus horss,
For hym to meit he stude a maner feir;
The hed remanyt vnder the horssis eyr,
The steid enragit for the cruell dynt,
And lansys vp on hycht als fers as flynt,
As he that was inpacient of hys wond,
That Remulus down weltis on the grond.
Catillus, ane of the brethir Tyberyne,
Iollas down bet, and thareftir syne
The gret Hermynyus, wondir byg of corps,
Bot far byggar of curage and of fors;
Quhais hed and schuldris nakyt war and bar,
And on his crovn bot lokrand allow hair;
And thocht he nakyt was, and voyd of geir,
Na wond nor wapyn mycht hym anys effer;
Forgane the speris so bustuus blomyt he,
That this Catillus stalwart schaft of tre
Throw gyrdis baith hys stalwart schulder banys,
And with the dynt stud schakand all at anys,
Transfixit so, and persand euery part,
It dowblis and renewys the manis smart.
The blaknyt dedly blude on athir syde
Furth ruschis owt of warkand wondis wyde;
The swerdis baithit wolx in bargane red;
Feill corpsis kyllit in the feild fell ded,
And caucht a douchty end to swelt in fycht,
By hurtis feill forto manteym thar rycht.
Quhou Camylla hir fays doun can dyng,
And venquyst Awnus, for all his fair flechyng.
The awfull maid Camylla the ilk tyde,
With cace of arrowis tachit by hyr syde,
Amyd the slauchter and melle apon hyr foyn
Prowdly pransys lyke a wench Amaon,
That, forto hant the bargane or assay,
Hyr rycht pap had cut and brynt away.
And now the sowpill schaftis baldly sche
On ather sydis thik sparpellis and leit fle;
Now, not irkyt in batale stith to stand,
Ane stalwart ax scho hyntis in hir hand;
Apon hir schulder the giltyn bow Turcas,
With Dyanys arowys clatterand in hyr cayss.
And gif that so betyd into that fight
Hyr ferys gave the bak and tuke the flycht,
Into the chaiss oft wald scho turn agane,
And, fleand, with hir bow schuyt mony a flane.
Abowt hir went hir walit stalwart feris,
The maid Laryna and Tulla ong of heris,
And Tarpeia, that stowtly turnys and swax
With the weil stelit and braid billit ax;
Italyanys born; quham the nobil Camylla
Had to hir lovyng and honour deput swa,
Tobeyn hir servandis in ganand tyme of paix,
And in batale to stand by hir in press.
Lyke as of Trace the wenchis Amaonys
Dyndillis the flude Thermodoon for the nonys,
As in thar payntit armour do thai fycht,
Owder abowt Hippolita the wight,
Or by the weirlyk maid Penthesile,
Rolland hir cart of weir to the melle;
The wemen rowtis baldly to the assay,
With felloun bruyt, gret revery and deray,
Furth haldis sammyn our the feldis sone,
With crukyt scheldis schapyn like the moyn.
O thou stern maid Camylla, quhat sal I say?
Quham first, quham last, thou smait to erth that day?
Or quhou feil corpsis in the batale sted
Thou laid to grond, ourthrew and put to ded?
With the formast, Ewmenyus, that was one
Son to Clysius; quhais braid breist bone
With a lang stalwart speir of the fyre tre
Throw smyttyn tyte and persyt sone hes sche;
He cavis owr, furthbokand stremys of blude,
And with his teith eik, schortly to conclude,
The bludy erd he bait; and, as he sweltis,
Apon hys wond oft writhis, tumlys and weltis.
Abuf this nixt scho ekis other two,
Lyris, and ane Pegasyus alsso,
Of quham the tane, that is to say, Lyris,
As that he fordward stowpand was, I wys,
To hynt hys horssis reyn that gan to fundir,
And the tother present, to kep hym vndir,
Furth straucht his febi
ll arm to stynt his fall,
To grund togidder ruschit ane and all.
And to thir syne the son of Hyppotes,
Amastrus hait, ded scho adionyt in press;
And lenand fordwart on hir lance of tre,
Terreas and Harpalicus chasys sche,
Persewand eik full bustuusly onon
The bold Chromys, and strang Demophon:
Quhou feill dartis with hir hand kest this maid,
Alsmony Troianys ded to grund scho laid.
Ane Ornytus, ane huntar, far on raw,
In armour and in cognycens onknaw,
Raid on a curser of Apule throu the feild;
Hys braid schuldris weill cled war and ourheld
With a ong bullis hyde newly of hynt;
Hys hed coverit, to salf hym fro the dynt,
Was with ane hydduus wolfis gapand iowis,
With chaftis braid, quhyte teith and bustuus powis.
To mak debait, he held intill his hand
A rural club or culmas in sted of brand;
And, quhar he went, amyd the rowtis on hie
Abuf thame all his hail hed men myght se.
Camylla hym at myscheif hess on set,
Scho bair hym throw, and to the grund dovn bet;
Nor na gret curage, forsuyth, was that, na mycht,
For all his rowt tofor had tane the flycht.
Bot forthir eik this forsaid Camylla,
With mynd onfrendly, can thir wordis sa:
“Thow Tyrrheyn fallow, quhat, wenyt thou tobe
In woddis chasand the wild deir?” quod sche.
“The day is cummyn that our prowd wordis hait
A womanis wapyn sal resist and debait.
And, not the less, na litill renowne
From thens thou sal do turss away with the,
And to our faderis gostis blythly schaw
That with Camyllais glave thou art ourthraw.”
Incontinent this madyn eftir thys
Slew Orsilochus, and ane that hait Butys,
Twa biggast men of body and of banys
Of all the ost and fallowschip Troianys.
Bot this ilk Butys, standand hir befor,
Outthrou the nek dyd scho perss and bor,
Betwix the hawbrig and the helm inhy,
Quhar that his halss scho dyd nakyt aspy;
For our his left schulder hang his scheld.
Bot this Orsilochus fled hir in the feild,
And gan to trump with mony a turnyng went;
In circulis wyde scho drave hym our the bent,
With mony a curss and iowk, abowt, abowt;
Quhar euer he fled scho followis in and owt;
And at the last scho hess ourtak the man,
And throw hys armour all, and his harn pan,
Hir braid poll ax, rasyt so on hie,
With all hir forss and mycht syne strykis sche;
As he besocht for grace with gret request,
Scho dowblit on hir dyntis, and so hym prest,
With feil wondis his hed hass tort and rent;
Hys harnys hait our all his vissage went.
Than Awnus son, quhilk also Awnus hait,
On cace betyd approche in the debait
Towart this maid, and, alsone he hir saw,
Abasyt huvis still for dreid and aw:
Into the mont Appennynus dwelt he,
Amang Liguriane pepill of his cuntre;
And not, forsuyth, the lakest weriour,
Bot forsy man, and rycht stalwart in stour,
So lang as fatis sufferit hym in fycht
To excerss prettykis, iuperty or slycht.
This Awnus, fra that weil persavit he
Na way to fle nor eschew the melle
Nor mycht eschaip the queyn stude him agane,
Than he begouth assay hir with a trayn,
And with a sle dissait thus first he said:
“Quhat honour is till a stowt wench or maid
Fortill assur and trast in a strang horss?
Leif thy swyft steid, and traste in thyne awyn forss;
At nane avantage, quhen thou lyst to fle,
Lyght on this plane, and hand for hand with me
Address ws to debait on fut allone:
Thar sall thou se, thar sall thou knaw onon,
Quhamto this wyndy glor, voust, or avantis,
The honor or, with payn, the lovyng grantis.”
Thus said he, bot scho than als hait as fyre,
Aggrevit sor, inflambit in felloun ire,
Alycht, and to hir mait the horss betaucht;
At his desyre onon on fut vpstraucht,
With equale armour bodyn wondir lycht,
The drawyn suerd in hand that schane full brycht,
And onabasyt abaid hym in the feild,
Abyleit only bot with a quhite scheild.
The ong man, wenyng with his sle dissait
He had begilit hir be his consait,
Abowt his bridill turnyt but mar delay
And at the flycht sprent furth and brak away,
And feil syss leit the horss sydis feill
The scharp irne spurris prik apon his heill.
“O,” quod the maid, “thou fals Liguriane,
Our wanton in thy prowd mynd, all invayn;
O variant man, for nocht perfay,” quod sche,
“Hess thou assayt thy cuntre craftis sle!
Dissaitfull wight, forsuyth I to the say,
Thy slycht and wylis sal the nocht beir away,
Nor haylscarth hyne do turss the hame fra ws
Onto thy faderis howss, the fals Awnus.”
Thus said the wench onto this other syre,
And furth scho sprent as spark of gleid or fyre;
With spedy fut so swyftly rynnys sche,
By passyt the horssis renk, and furth can fle
Befor hym in the feild with gret disdeyn,
And claucht onon the curser by the reyn;
Syne set apon hym baldly, quhar scho stude,
And hir revengit of hir fays blude —
Als lychtly as the happy goishalk, we se,
From the hycht of a rokis pynnakill hie
With swyft weyngis persewis wonder sair
The silly dow heich vp into the ayr,
Quham finaly he clippis at the last,
And lowkyt in his punsys sarris fast,
Thristand his tallans sa throu hir entralis
Quhill at the blude abundantly furth ralys;
And, with hir beik deplumand, on al sydis
The lycht downys vp to the skyis glidis.
Tarchon, gret chiftane of the Tuscan ost,
The fleand folkis to turn agane can bost.
The fader of goddis and men with diligent eyn
Hass all hir dedis vnderstand and seyn,
And, situat in his hevynly houss on hie,
Inducis and commovis to the melle
Tarchon, of Tuscanys pryncipall lord and syre,
In breithfull stoundis rasyt brym as fyre;
So that amyd the ful myschewoss fyght,
The gret slauchter and rowtis takand the flycht,
On horsbak in this Tarchon baldly draw,
Wilfull his pepill to support and saw;
The wardis all of euery natioun
With admonitions seir and exhortatioun
And diuerss wordis tystis to feght, for schame,
Clepand and calland ilk man be his name,
Quhill thai that drevyn war abak and chaste
Relevys agane to the bargane in haist.
“O Tuscane pepill, quhou happynnys this,” said he,
“That he sal evir sa doillyt and bowbartis be
Onwrokyn sik iniurys to suffir heir?
O, quhat be this? Quhou gret a dreid and feir,
Quhou huge dolfnes and schaymful cowardice
Hes ombeset our myndis, apon sik wyss
That a woman allon, and thus belyve,
Apon sik wyss sal scattir ou and dryve,
&nb
sp; And gar sa large rowtis tak the flycht?
Quharto bair we thir steill egis in fyght?
Or quhat avalys to hald in hand, lat se,
For nocht thir wapynnys, gyf we a wife sall fle?
e war not wont tobe sa lyddyr ilkane
At nycht batellys and warkis venerian
Or quhar the bowand trumpet blew the spryng,
At Bachus dans to go in caralyng,
Syne go to fest at tabill, and syt at dess,
Se cowpys full, and mony danty mess:
Thar was our lust, plesour, and appetite,
Thar was our bissy cuyr and our delyte;
Quhen that the happy spay man, on hyss gyss,
Pronuncit the festual haly sacryfyss,
And the fat offerandis dyd ou call on raw
To banket amyd the dern blissyt schaw.”
And, with that word, amydwart the melle,
Reddy to sterf, his horss furth sterys he,
And awfully onon with all his mayn
Ruschit apon Venulus, stud hym agane;
And with hys rycht arm can hys fa enbrass,
Syk wyss he dyd hym from hys horss arraiss,
And with huge strenth syne dyd hym cowch and lay
Befor his breist, and bair hym quyte away.
The Tuscanys rasyt a clamour to the sky,
And Latynys all thar eyn abowt dyd wry.
This Tarchon, ardent as the fyry levyn,
Flaw furth swyft as a fowle vp towart hevyn,
Berand with hym the armour and the man;
And fra his speris poynt of brak he than
The stelit hed, and syne seyrsis all artis,
Euerilk entre, and all the oppyn partis,
Quhar he mycht fynd into sa litil stovnd
A place patent to geif hym dedis wond.
And, be the contrar, Venulus full wight
Maid all debait and obstakill at he mycht,
And can hys hand from hys throt oftsyss chop
With all hys strenth, hys violens to stop.
Lyke as, sum tyme, the allo egill be sycht
The eddir hyntis vp and careis on hyght,
Syne, fleand, in hir feit streneis sa fast
That oft hyr punsys outthrow the skyn dois thrast;
Bot the serpent, wondyt and al toschent,
In lowpyt thrawys wrythis with mony a sprent,
Hyr sprutlyt skalys vpset grysly to se,
With quhisland mouth strekand hir hed on hie;
All thocht scho wreill and sprynkill, bend or skyp,
Evir the sarar this ern strenys hys gryp,
And with hys bowand beik rentis grewsly,
Sammyn with hys weyngis soursand in the sky —
Noyn othyr wyss, this Tarchon tursys hys pray
Throw owt the Tyburtyn rowtis glaid and gay.
The pepill Tuscane, quhilum cum fra Lyde,
Seand the exempill and prosper chans that tyd
Of thar stowt duke, followys hys hardyment,
And with a rusch sammyn in the bargane sprent.
