Complete Works of Virgil
Page 82
And men onletterit to my wark tak tent;
Quhilk, as twiching this thretteynt buke infeir,
Begynnys thus, as furthwith followis heir.
Explicit prologus in decimumtertium librum Eneados Sequitur liber decimustertius de maphei vegii carmine traductus per eundem qui supra interpretem etc.
Rutilian pepill, eftir Turnus decess,
Obeys Eneas, and takis thame to hys pess.
As Turnus, in the lattir bargan lost
Venquyst in feild, ald furth the fleand gost,
This marciall prynce, this ryall lord Enee,
As victor full of magnanymyte,
Amyddis baith the rowtis baldly standis,
That tobehald hym apon athir handis
Astonyst and agast war all hym saw.
And tho the Latyn pepill haill on raw
A fellon murnyng maid and wofull beir,
And gan devoid and hostit owt full cleir
Deip from thar breistis the hard sorow smart,
With curage lost and doun smyttyn thar hart —
Lyke as the huge forest can bewaill
Hys granys doun bet and his branchis skaill,
Quhen thai beyn catchit and alltoschakyn fast
With the fell thud of the north wyndis blast.
For thai thar lancis fixit in the erd
And lenys on thar swerdis with a rerd,
Thar scheldis of thar schuldris slang away:
That bargan and that weir fast wary thai,
And gan abhor of Mars the wild luf,
Quhilk laitly thay desyrit and dyd appruf.
The brydyll now refuss thai nocht to dre,
Nor ok thar nekkys in captiuite,
And to implor forgyfnes of all greif,
Quyet, and end of harmyss and myscheif.
As quhen that twa gret bullys on the plane
Togiddir rynnys in bittir gret bargane,
Thar lang debait mydland quhar thai stand
With large blude scheddyng on athir hand,
Quhill athir of thame onto the batalis fyne
Hys awyn bestis and heyrdis doys inclyne,
Bot, gyf the pryss of victory betydis
Till ony of thir twa on athir sydis,
Onon the catall, quhilkis favorit langer
The best curcummyn as thar cheif and heir,
Now thame subdewis vnder his ward inhy
Quhilk hass the ovirhand wonnyn and mastry,
And of fre will, all thocht thar myndis be thra,
Assentis him till obey — and evin rycht swa
The Rutilianys, all thocht the gret syte
Thar breistis had bedowit and to smyte,
With gret effray of slauchter of thar duke,
it thocht thame levir, and haill to purposs tuke,
To follow and obey, for all thar harmys,
The gentill chiftane and bettir man of armys,
And thame subdew to the Troian Enee,
And hym beseik of peax and amyte,
Of rest and quyet evirmar from the weir,
For thame, thar landis, moblis and other geir.
Eneas tho with plesand voce furth braid
And, standand abuf Turnus, thus he said:
“O Dawnus son, quhou com this hasty rage
Into thy breist with foly and dotage,
That thou mycht nocht suffir the Troianys,
Quhilkis at command of goddis onto thir planys
And by power of hie Iove ar hiddir cary,
Within the bundis of Italy to tary,
And, all invane, thame so expellyng wald
Of thar land of behest and promyst hald?
Lern forto dreid gret Iove, and nocht gaynstand,
And to fulfyll glaidly the goddis command;
And for thar greif weill aucht we tobe war:
Sum tyme in ire will grow gret Iupiter,
And oft remembrans of the wikkit wraik
Solistis the goddis tharof vengeans to take.
Lo, now of all sik furour and effeir
The lattir meith and term is present heir,
Quhar thou aganyst reson and equyte,
Aganyst lawte, and brokyn all vnyte
Of confideratioun sworn and bund or now,
The Troian pepill sair trublit hess thow.
Behald and se the extreme fynale day,
To geif all otheris gud exempill for ay
That it mot nevir lefull be agane
Tyll ony to contempne gret Iove invane,
As forto rayss with sik dreid and effeir
Sa onworthy motioun of wikkit weir.
Now beis glaid, bruke thyne armour but pled;
Allace, a nobill corps thou lyggis ded,
The, gret Turnus, and, as to my demyng,
Lavynya hass the cost na litill thyng:
Nor thou na schame nedys thynk in na part,
That of Eneas hand thou kyllit art.
Now cumis heir, Rutilianys, but delay,
The body of our duke turss hyne away.
I grant ou baith the armour and the man:
Hald on, and do tharto all that e can,
As langis onto the honor of bereyng,
Or tobewaill the deth of sik a kyng.
Bot the gret pasand gyrdill and sik geir
That Pallas, my deir frend, was wont to weir,
To Evandar I will send, fortobe
Na litill solace to hym, quhen he sall se
Hys felloun fa is kyllit thus, and knaw,
Full glaid tharof, Turnus is brocht of daw.
And netheless now, e Italianys,
That otherwyss be clepe Ausonyanys,
Ramembir heirof, and lern in tyme cummyng
With bettir aspectis and happy begynnyng
To move and tak onhand debait or weir;
For, be the blyssit sternys brycht I sweir,
Neuer nane ostis nor it armour glaidly
Aganyst ou in batal movit I,
Bot constrenyt by our fury, as is kend,
With all my forss I set me to defend
The Troian party and our awyn ofspryng,
As, lo, forsuyth this was bot lesum thing.”
No mor Eneas said, bot tharwithall
Addressys hym towart hys cite wall,
And throu the feildis socht full ioyusly
To hys new Troian reset and herbry.
Sammyn hym followis all the rowt atanys,
The pissans haill and ynkeris of Tewcranys,
And our the planys, glaid and wondir lycht,
Thar swyft stedis, as the fowle at flycht,
Throu speid of fut assays by and by,
And oft with bittir mouth dyd crying, “Fy!”
And can accuss the Latyn pepill all,
Oft fant folkis and sleuthfull dyd thame call;
That with thar rerd and bemyng, quhar thai fair,
For the deray full heich dynnys the air.
Quhou Eneas, glaid of hys victory
Lovyt the goddis, and can tham sacryfy.
And thocht Ene the bissy thochfull curis
Constrenyt hass as twychand sepulturis
Of hys folkis yslane, and bereyng,
With funeral fyre and flambis accordyng,
it, netheless, in hys breist rollys and sterys
Ane grettar mater and largyar, as efferis.
For first the soueran honour on thar gyss
On the altarys with detfull sacrifice
He ordand hass, and than, fra hand to hand,
Eftir the ryte and vsans of thar land,
The yng oxin gan thai steik and sla:
Within thar tempill haue thai brocht alssua
The bustuus swyne, and the twynteris snaw quhite,
That with thar clovis can the erth smyte,
With mony palt scheddand thar purpour blude.
Furth haue thai rent thar entralis, full onrude,
And gan denude and strippyn of thar hydis,
Syne hakkyn thame in taleis, and besydis
The hai
t flambis brochit hess thame laid.
And furth thai et the wyne in cowpis glaid,
God Bachus giftis fast thai multiply;
With platis full the altaris by and by
Thai can do charge, and wirschipis with fat lyre;
The smelland sens vpblesis in the fyre.
Than throu that hald thai fest and mak gud cheir,
Vprayss the mery rerd and ioyus beir:
Thai dyd extoll and lovyng with gret wondir
Gret Iupiter, the feirfull god of thundir;
And Dame Venus thai wirschippit alsso;
And the, Saturnus douchter, Queyn Iuno,
Now pacifyit and bettir than befor,
Ane huge lawd thai ald to the tharfor;
And eik hym self Mars, the gret god of armys,
Thai magnyfy as wrekar of thar harmys;
Syne haill the remanent of the cumpany
Of the goddys thai name furth by and by,
With hie vocis and with lowd cryis
Lovit and born vpheich abuse the skyis.
Befor thame all maste gracius Eneas
Hys handis twa, as tho the custum was,
Towart the hevyn gan vplift and arays,
And syne the child Ascanyus dyd embrass,
Sayand a few wordis, that all mycht heir:
“O thou my son and only child mast deir,
In quham only restis thy faderis beleve,
Quham throu samony laubouris of myscheve
I careit haue, catchit full mony gatis
Be the hard fortoun and the frawart fatis,
Lo, now our rest and quyet fund for ay!
Lo, now the last and maist desyrit day,
To mak end of our harmyss and distres!
Our paynfull laubour passit is express:
Lo, the acceptabill day for euermor,
Quhilk I full oft haue schawin the befor
Quhen ontill hard bargan callit was I,
This was tocum and betyd by and by
Be dispositioun of the goddys abuse.
And now, my derrest child, for thy behufe,
To morn, soyn as Aurora walxis red,
To the cite of Lawrent, that ryall sted,
I sall the send, as victor with ovirhand,
Tobe mastir and to maynteym this land.”
And eftir this he turnyt hym agane
Onto hys folkis and the pepill Troian,
And from the boddum of hys breist weill law
With soft spech furth gan thir wordis draw:
“O e my ferys and my frendis bald,
Throu mony hard perrellis and thikfald,
Throw sa feill stormys baith on land and se,
Hiddir now careit to this cost with me,
Throu sa gret fervour of batall into stowr
And dowbill fury of weirfar in armour,
Be sa feill wynteris blastis and tempestis,
By all ways noysum and onrestis,
And all that horribill was, or it hevy,
Wofull, hydduus, wikkyt, or onhappy,
Or it cruell or myschews; now stad
In bettir hoip, return our mynd, beys glaid:
Now is the end of all ennoy and wo,
The term is cumyn, heir sall thai stynt, and ho:
And, lyke as we desyrit for the best,
With Latyn pepill in ferm peax and rest
We sall conioyn, and leif in vnite;
And Lavinia, of that ilk blude,” quod he,
“Quham I defendit haue in strang bargan,
Of Troiane kyn, with blude Italian
Sammyn mydlit, to me as spouss in hy
Sal eld lynnage to ryng perpetualy.
A thing, my fallowis and my frendis deir,
I ou besekyng, and I ou requer:
Bair our myndis equale, as all anys,
And common frendis to the Italianys,
And to my fader in law, the kyng Latyn,
Obeis all, and with reuerens inclyn —
Ane myghty ceptre and riall beris he —
This is my mynd, this is my will, perde.
Bot into batale and douchty dedis of armys,
ou forto wreke and revenge of our harmys,
Lern forto follow me and tobe meik,
he contyrfyt my reuth and piete eik.
Quhat glor is ws betyd full weil is knaw,
Bot the heich hevyn and starris all I draw
To witnessyng, that I, the sammyn wight
Quhilk ou deliuerit hess into the fight
From sa huge harmys and myschevis seir,
I sall ou seyss and induce now, but weir,
In far largyar rewardis myghtyly
And ou rendir our desert by and by.”
With sik wordis gan he thame comfortyng
And in his mynd full mony syndry thyng
Of chancis bipast rollyng to and fro,
Thynkand quhou he is brocht to rest alsso
With na litill laubouris, sturt and panys;
And with excedand luf of the Troianys
Full ardently he flowis all of ioy,
Glaid at the last from danger and ennoy,
So huge and hevy perrellis mony fald,
Thai war eschapit, and brocht to sovir hald.
Lyke as quhen that the gredy gled on hycht
Scummand vp in the ayr oft turnys hys flycht,
With fellon fard wachand the chiknys lyte,
Thar deth mannasand, reddy forto smyte:
The cristit fowle, thar moder, tho full smert
For hyr pullettis, with harmys at hir hart
Affrait gretly of thar wofull chance,
Gan rax hir self and hir curage avans,
Forto resist hir fa scharpand hir byll,
And with haill fors and mycht and egir will
Apon hir aduersar baldly settis sche,
Quhill, at the last, to gif the bak and fle
With mekill payn and verray violens
Scho hym constrenys, and to pyk hym thens:
Hyr byrdis syne, clokkand, scho sekis on raw
And all affrait dois thame sammyn draw,
Ennoyt gretly for hir childir deir:
And quhen thai beyn assemlit all infeir,
Than glaid scho worthis and thar meyt gan scrape
For that thai haue sa gret perrell eschape —
Nane other wyss the son of Anchises
With frendly wordis thus amyd the press
The Troian myndis gan meyss and asswage,
As man fulfillit of wit and vassalage,
Dryvand furth of thar hartis all on flocht
The ald dreid and byrnand hevy thocht,
That weill thame lykis now thar ioy and eyss
At last fundyn eftir sa lang diseyss;
And it that layt tofor was tedyus
To suffir or sustene, and ennoyus,
Now to ramember the sammyn or rehersyng
Doys to thame solace, comfort and lykyng,
Bot maist of all onto the gret Ene,
Quhilk in excelland vertu and bonte
Excedit all the remanent a far way.
And for sa feill dangeris and mony affray
The goddis power and mychty maieste
With gyftis gret and offerand wirschippis he,
Eyk Iupiter, the fader of goddis and kyng,
Gan to extoll with maist souerane lovyng.
Quhou Turnus folkis for hym maid sair regrait,
And Kyng Latyn contempnys his wrachit estait.
In the meyn tyme the Rutilianys ichone
The gret ded corps reuthfull and wobegone
Of thar duke Turnus slayn, as said is air,
Within the cite of Lawrentum bair
With mekill murnyng in thar myndis enprent,
And from thar eyn a large schour furth sent
Of teris gret, as thocht the hevyn dyd rayn,
And far on breid dyd fyll the erys twayn
Of Kyng Latyn with cry and womentyng,
That all to irkyt was the nobill kyng,
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br /> And in his breist the self tyme in ballance
Was rollyng mony diuerss selcouth chance.
Bot quhen he hard thar lowd womentyng
Incressyng mair and mair, and Turnus yng
With sa grysly a wond throw gyrd hess seyn,
Than mycht he nocht fra terys hym conteyn;
And syne this rowt, sa tryst and wobegone,
Full curtesly chargis be still onon,
Baith with hys hand and wordis in his presens
Inionyt hass and commandit thame silens.
Lyke as quhen that the fomy bair hess bet
With his thunderand awfull tuskis gret
Throw owt the cost and eik the entralis all
Ane of the rowt, the hund maste principall;
Than the remanent of that questing sort,
For this onsilly chance effrait, at schort
Withdrawys, and abowt the master hunteir
With quhyngeand mouthis quakand standis for feir
And with gret owlyng doith compleyn and meyn;
Bot quhen thar lord rasys hys hand bedeyn
And byddys cess, thai hald thar mowthis still,
Thar quhyngng and thar questyng at his will
Refrenys, and all closs gan thame withhald —
The sammyn wyss thir Rutilianys, as he wald,
Gan at command debait thar voce and cess,
To heir the kyngis mynd, and held thar pess.
Than thus, wepyng, from hys hart ruyt waill law
The kyng Latyn begouth thir wordis schaw:
“O quhou gret motioun, quhat alteryng onstabill,
Quhou oftsyss interchangit and variabill
Beyn the actis and dedis of man!” quod he,
“With quhou gret trubbill, but tranquylyte,
Is quhirlit abowt the lyfe of man, behald!
O dampnabill pryde and ambitioun, that wald
Bruke crovn or ceptre, prowd in thyne entent,
Quhilk beyn sa fragyll, and not permanent!
O fury, O lust, that beyn our gretumly
Bred in our brestis, to covat seneory!
Thou blynd desyre insaciabill, may not tary,
Our mortal myndis quhidder doith thou cary?
O glory and renoun of loyss, invayn
Conquest with sa feill perrellis and huge pane,
To quhat conditioun or to quhat estait
Thou sterys furth thir prowd myndis inflait!
Quhou mony slichtis and dissatis quent
With the thou tursis, quhou mony ways to schent,
Quhcu feill maneris of deth and of distress,
Quhou feill tormentis, gret harm and wikkytnes!
Quhou mony dartis, quhou feill swerdis keyn,
Gyf thou beheld, thou hess befor thyne eyn!
Allace, thou sweit vennom schawis, and it
This warldly wirschip hess the dedly byt.
Allace, the sorofull reward in all thyng
Of realmys, and thame covatis forto ryng,
Quhilk costis oft na litill thing, but weir.