by Virgil
Smait hym a grewoss wond and dedly byt,
And syne thir wordis said: “Ha, art thou hyt?
Ha, that thou hass! This is, be myne avyss,
To our gret goddis mair ganand sacrifyss.”
Italianys hurlys on hym in a floyt,
Spuleit hys corps, hys membris it all hoyt.
Chorineus tho, that was a stowt Troian,
To meit ane Ebusus, com hym agan,
That wald haue smyt hym with a bustuus dynt,
And on ane altar a byrnand schide hass hynt,
And gan it rycht amyd hys vissage stair,
That blesyt vp hys lang berd of hair,
Quhilk, scaldit thus, a strang fleur dyd cast.
And forthir this Chorineus alsso fast
Ruschit on hys fa, thus fyrefangit and onsaucht,
And with hys left hand by the hair hym claucht,
Syne with hys kne hym possit with sic a plat
That on the erd he spaldit hym all flat,
And with hys styf stok swerd in sik estait
Throu baith the sydis at the first dynt hym smait.
And Podalirius with drawyn swerd list not cess
Alsus the hyrd to persew throu the press,
Quhilk ruschis abak for feir, hys life to save,
In the vangart, throw mony a poyntit glave;
Bot quhen he saw his fa sa neir invaid
That he na wyss mycht eschew nor evaid,
Vphesit he hys braid ax rude and squair,
And akwartly strake at hys aduersar,
Quhilk from amyd hys forhed, neir hys crovn,
Onto hys chyn the egge dyd carvyn doun,
That far onbreid hys armour, quhar he stude,
Was all bysprent and blandit full of blude.
Tho Podalirius the hard rest dyd oppress,
Or cald and irny sleip of dethis stress,
And vp the breith he ald into thar sycht,
With eyn closyt in euerlestand nycht.
Enee sair wondyt of the feild dyd pass,
In quhais absens Turnus mair cruell wass.
Than the reuthfull and pacient Eneas,
Behaldand quhou all wrang the gem dyd pas,
Hys rycht hand onenarmyt to stynt thar fed,
Furth strekis and oncoverit hess hys hed,
And cryis and clepis on his pepill tho:
“My frendis deir, quhidder now hurll e so,
Ilkane aganys other? Quhou may this be?
Quhat hess movit this hasty discord?” quod he,
“O, stanch our wraith for schame, or all is lorn!
The payce and concord now is twichit and sworn,
And the articulis and the lawys dyng
Appunctit vp, and promist euery thing.
Of det and ryght I aucht apon this land
Allane Turnus recontyr, hand for hand:
Suffir me perform my dereyn by and by,
And do away all dreid and villany.
I sall with my hand sone make ferm and stabill
Our appoyntment, for evir onvariabill,
For this ilke sacrifice violate in this sted
Sall rendir onon Turnus to me ded.”
Amyd sic sawys, as he thir wordis said
Forto asswage thar mynd, but mar abaid
A quhirrand arrow, lo, with fedderit flycht
At swift randon dyd in hys the bayn lycht,
Oncertane fra quhat hand that it was sent,
Quhat kynd of schote, nor of quhat instrument.
The hie glory of sa notabill a deid
Is hyd, that nane knew quha it dyd but dreid,
Nor wist quha wrocht had to the Rutilianys
Sa gret wirschip and lovyng for the nanys;
Quhidder it betyd on cace and aventur,
Or of sum god be dispositioun suyr;
Nor nevir person eftir, he nor he,
Dyd hym avant he wondit had Ene.
Quhen Turnus all the chiftanys trublit saw,
And Eneas sair wondit hym withdraw,
Than, for this hasty hope als hait as fyre,
To mell in feght he caucht ardent desyre;
He askis horss and harnes baith atanys,
And haltandly in hys cart for the nanys
He skippis vp and musturis wantonly,
Furth sprentand throu the feildis by and by,
And at his will, quharso hym list tobe,
With hys awyn hand the reneis rewlis he;
And dryvand furth thus into his ire
Laid feill corpsis ded and mony bald syre,
Down strowand eik vnder fut in the plane
Diuerss otheris it throwand and half slane:
Owder with his cart the rowtis he drave away,
Or, as thai tuke the flycht for gret affray,
Castyng speris and dartis scharp hynt he,
And leit thame thik amang his fays fle.
Sik wyss as bludy armipotent god Mars,
Besyde hys frosty flude Hebrum in Trass,
Full hastely bownand to batale feild,
Makis gret bruyt and clatteryng with hys scheild,
Quhen he list movyng weir mast chevalrus;
Furth steris hys stedis, ferss and furyus,
Quhilk fleys furth sa swith with mony a stend
Owtour the planys at large quhar thai wend,
That thai forryn and goys befor alway
ephyrus and Nothus, swyftest wyndis tway;
And, with the dyn of thar feyt and hys cart,
All Trace gronys onto the ferthar part;
Abowt hym walkis, as hys godly feris,
Dreid with paill face, Debait, and mortale Weris,
The Wraith, and Ire, and eik fraudfull Dissait,
Lyggyng vndir covert at enbuschment or await —
Turnus siclike, als chery, prowd and lycht
Amyd the batale catchys to the fycht
Hys stedys, rekand of swete quhar thai raid,
And sa baldly hys fays dyd invaid,
With sik slauchter, that piete was to se;
And sik deray hass maid in the melle,
That hys swift stedis hovys, quhar thai went,
Spangit vp the bludy sparkis our the bent,
Quhil blude and brane, in abudans furth sched,
Mydlit with sand vndir horss feit was tred.
For he, or now, hess doun bet Sthelenus,
And kyllit eik Thamyrys and Polus
(The formast twa he slew machit at hand,
And this Polus, as he far of dyd stand);
On far eik slew he of Imbrasyus
The sonnys twa, Glawcus and Iasus,
Quham this Imbrasyus fosterit had, baith twa,
Into the far cuntre of Lycia,
And thame instrukit had full equaly
In fait of armys, and to hant chevelry,
Owder till assaill befor, or it behynd,
Or with swift horss fortill forryn the wynd.
ond, in ane other part, amyd the feild
The ferss Eumedes walkis vnder scheild,
Quhilk was the son and air, as that thai tell,
Of agit Dolon valeant in batell:
The name he bair of hys forgrandschir wight,
Bot the strang handis and stowt curage in fight
Of hys awyn fader, this Dolon, he bair;
Quhilk at Troy vmquhile, as the sege lay thar,
And was of sa stowt curage and hie will
That he durst ask the chariot of Achill
To his reward, for that he sa baldly
The Grekis tentis tuk on hand to aspy;
Bot the son of Tedeus, Diomed,
Ane other fasson hess hym quyt his meid
For sa stowt ondyrtakyn, and hym slewch;
And it for all his renovn, provit eneuch,
Ne durst anys pretend, for all hys dedys,
That he was worthy to weld Achillys stedys.
Bot to our purposs: this forsaid Eumedes
As Turnus dyd behald ond in the press,
On the pl
ane feld thar as he dyd ryde,
First weill a far way at hym leyt he glyde
A fleand dart; and furth with that, rycht thar,
Gan stynt hys horssis and his quhirland char,
And ferely dyd lepyng from hys cart,
And sone apon hys aduersar astart,
Quhilk tho was fall to grond, and half deill ded;
Syne with hys fut doun thryst in the ilk sted
Hys fair nek bayn, and owt of hys rycht hand
Richt austernly hass he thrawyn the brand,
Quhilk schynand brycht into hys throte he wet,
And tharto ekyt thir wordys wondyr het:
“O thow prowd Troian, lyggand thar at grond,
Now may thou myssour the feld at thou hass fund;
Lo heir the bundis, lo heir Hesperia,
Quhilk thou to seik in weirfar was sa thra!
Thys is the bontay tha sal bair away
That dar with wapynnys or armour me assay.”
To hym in feir also hass he laid
With a scharp castyn hed, but mar abaid,
Ane Butys, and eftyr hym ane Chloreus,
Syne Sybar, Dares, and Thersilocus,
And Thymetes, a man of full gret fors,
Castyn from hys staffage, skeich and hedstrang horss.
And as the blastis with thar bustuus sovn
From mont Edoin in Trace cumis thuddand doun
On the deip sey Egean fast at hand,
Chasand the flud and wallys to athir land;
And quhar the wyndis assalys, the suyth to say,
The clowdis fleys fast our the hevyn away —
The sammyn wyss, quhat way at Turnus went,
The rowtis red hym plane rovm on the bent,
And all the ostis fast abak dyd fle,
For with sik forss and fard furth dryvys he,
Hys bissy movand tymbrell euery art
Catchis the wynd and ayr forgane hys cart.
Phegeus, a Troiane, seand Turnus all mad
Sa instantly assaill with strakis sad,
Na langar mycht hym thoill, bot with bald hart
Hym self kest in the way to meit hys cart;
And he the renys in hys ryght hand hynt,
Syne writhit hess about, or euer he stynt,
The fomy mowthis of the hasty stedis.
And as this douchty man, sa gud at nedis,
Thus hang and harlyt was in euery art
By the lymmouris and hamys of the cart,
That he hys body mycht nocht kepe nor held,
To covyr with hys armour and his scheld,
The speir hym followis with scharp hed and braid,
And rent hys hawbrik of dowbill plyis maid,
Hurt his body sum deill, nocht fully sond,
Persand the hyde, and maid a litill wond.
He, nocht the less, agane hys fa furthsprent,
With hys braid scheild or target evir vp stent,
And in hys hand held drawyn the burnyst blaid,
Cryand for help his aduersar till invaid;
Quham tho (allace, gret piete was to se!)
The quhirland quheill and spedy swyft extre
Smate doun to grond, and on the erd lay plat;
And, as he fell, Turnus followis with that,
And evyn betwix the helm can hym arrass
And vmast roll or hem of hys curass,
Smait of his hed clenly with hys brand,
And left the corps lyke a stok in the sand.
Na mannys cuyr nor craft of surrurgyne
Mycht heill Eneas, bot Venus medycyn.
And as Turnus thus in the batale sted
With the ovirhand sa feil corpsis laid ded,
The meyn quhil Mnestheus and traste Achates
Hess led the bald Eneas of the press,
Ascanyus yng with thame in cumpany,
And to the tentis brocht hym all bludy,
With steppis slaw furth stalkand all in feir,
Lenand ilk payss on a lang poyntit speir.
Wod wroith he worthis, for dysdene and dispyte
That he ne mycht hys ferys succur als tyte.
He wrythis, and enforsys tyll owt draw
The schaft in brokkyn, and the hed withall:
He axis help at all thar standand by,
Quhat was the nerrest way and maist reddy,
And bad thai suld with a scharp knyf that tyde
Scheir doun the wond, and mak it large and wyde,
Rype to the boddum weill, and tak gude tent
To serss the hyrnys quhar that the hed was went,
That thai mycht hast thame self, but mair delay,
To the batale, forto stynt this effray.
Now was thar than present in the press
Iapis, that was son of Iasides.
Abuf all otheris to the god Phebus he
Was best belovyt and haldyn in dante;
With quhais favour vmquhile strangly caucht,
This god Appollo gladly hass hym taucht
Hys craftis and hys officis, by and by,
Of diuinatioun or of augury,
The musik tonys to play on harp waill sle,
And forto schute and lat swyft arrowis fle.
Bot this Iapis, fortill prolong, perfay,
Hys faderis fatis, quhilk as bedrall lay
Befor hys et, of hys lyfe in dispar,
Had levyr haue knawyn the sciens and the lair,
The myght and forss of strenthy herbys fyne,
And all the cunnyng of vse of medycyne,
And with sik secrete craftis prevely
To leid hys lyfe and tyme mair esely.
Eneas standis byttyrly chidand,
Lenand apon a bustuus speir in hand,
Amyd gret confluens of thir childer yng,
And eik his son Ascanyus sair wepyng;
Bot he na thing hym movit at thar terys.
Than this Iapis, sage and ald of heris,
With habyt schapyn on surrugyn mak,
Vprollit weill and wymplit far abak,
Richt bissely with hys nait handis tway
Begouth fortill exem, and till assay
The wond with mony crafty medycyn,
And mychty herbys taucht be god Appollyn;
Bot all for nocht his travale and hys pane.
Oft with hys rycht hand sersis he, invane,
To rype the owtgait of the wond sa wyde,
And forto seik the schaft on euery syde,
With hys wynrys and grippand turcas sle
To thrist the hed, and draw furth, pressis he;
Bot, for na chance that evir betyd may,
Wald forton dress hys hand the sovir way.
Na thing avalyt hys crafty medycyne,
Nor ocht hym helpys his master Appollyn.
And now the grisly dreid, ay mair and mair,
Our all the feildis walkis heir and thar,
Nerrar drawys the perrell and effray,
So that all dyrknyt wolx the cleir day
Of dusty puldir in the hevyn dyd stand;
The horsmen all approchis fast at hand,
That dartis thik amyd the tentis fell.
Wofull clamour with mony cry and ell
Went to the skyis of ong men faucht in feild,
And thame that swelt, sair wondit vnder scheild.
Venus hys moder tho, this pane to meyss,
Caucht rewth and piete of hir sonnys dyseyss,
And from the wod of mont Ida in Creit
Vp hess scho pullit dittam, the herb sweit,
Of levis rank, rypit and wondir fair,
With sprowtis, sprayngis and vanys our alquhar,
As that we se on sik verdour spryngand,
And on the top a purpour flour curland:
Sik gresis gude beyn nowyss onknaw
To the wild bestis, quhen that ony thraw
Thai with the fleand arrow beyn ourtake,
The hed stikand owther in syde or bak.
Thiddir brocht Venus this herb (and scho wa
s schrowd,
Baith face and body, in a watry clowd),
And with the herb alsso mydlit hess sche
The hailsum thryfty watir wondir sle,
That from hir brycht lippys scho et inhy;
And temperis and enbalmys prevely
The plastyr tharwith, strynkland all ourane
The hailsum ius of herb ambrosian,
And the weill smelland herb hait panaces.
This ancyent surrigian, Iapes,
With sik watir or ius, that he nocht knew,
The wond mesys, and softnyt hes of new;
And suddanly the payn vanyst als cleyn
Of hys body, as thocht it had beyn
Bot a dyrlyng or a litill stond;
All blud stanchit and stud in the deip wond.
Tharwith baith hed and schaft com owt droppand,
But ony pull followyng of manis hand,
That strenth and fors of new to mak debait
Restoryt war onto thar ald astait.
“Harnes, harnes, bryng hym hydder in hy!
Quhy stand e sa?” Iapis gaue a cry,
And with this word aganyst thar fays he
Hess first thar spreit inflammyt to melle.
“O Eneas,” quod he, “I mak ou suyr,
Throw manis mycht was neuer wrocht this cuyr,
Nor be na mastir craft of medycyne:
Thou art not helyt by this hand of myne,
Bot be sum grettar god, full weill I se,
The quhilk to grettar warkis preservis the.”
Eneas tho, desyrus of bargane,
Hys lymmys in legharnes gold begane
Claspyt full closs and dyd hym self array,
Bad speid in haist, for he hatit delay;
He schuke and branglit fast his speir that tyde.
And eftir hys active scheild was by his syde
Cowchit full meit, and on his bak full thik
Seysit his curace or his fyne hawbrik,
Ascanyus yng tendirly the ilk place,
With all his harness bilappit, dyd embrace,
And throw his helmys vental a litill we
Hym kyssyt hass; syne on this wyss said he:
“O thou my child, do lernyng, I the pray,
Vertu and verray laubour till assay
At me, quhilk am thy fader, as thou wait;
Desyre tobe chancy and fortunate
As othir pryncis, quhilkis mair happy beyn.
Now sall my rycht hand thy querrell susteyn,
And the defend in batale by and by,
To mak the partis man of gret seneory.
Do thou siclyke, I pray the, myne awyn page,
Als fast as thou cumis to perfyte age,
Ramembir heiron, and revolue in thy mynd
Thy lynage, thy forbearis, and thy kynd;
Exempill of prowes in the steris frendis befor,
Baith fader Eneas and thyne vncle Hector.”
Iuturna gydys hir brotheris cart rycht sle
Frawart the batal, he suld nocht mache Enee.
