Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

  Tharon forto remembir, and oftsyss

  Murnand eschewis tharfra with gret dyseyss,

  it than I sal begyn ow forto pleyss.”

  Explicit Liber Primus, Incipit Prologus Secundi

  BUKE II

  The Prolouge of the Secund Buke

  Dyrk beyn my muse with dolorus armony.

  Melpomene, on the wald clerkis call

  Fortill compyle this dedly tragedy

  Twiching of Troy the subuersioun and fall;

  Bot sen I follow the poete principall,

  Quhat nedis purches feneit termys new?

  God grant me grace hym dyngly to ensew!

  The drery fait with terys lamentabill

  Of Troys sege wydequhar our all is song,

  Bot followand Virgil, gif my wit war abill,

  Ane othir wyss now salt that bell berong

  Than euer was tofor hard in our tong.

  Saturn, thou auld fader of malancoly,

  Thyne is the cuyr my wofull pen to gy.

  Harkis, ladeis, our bewte was the cawss;

  Harkis, knychtis, the wod fury of Mart;

  Wyss men, attendis mony sorofull clawss;

  And, e dyssavouris, reid heir our proper art;

  And fynaly, to specify euery part,

  Heir verifeit is that proverbe teching so,

  “All erdly glaidness fynysith with wo.”

  Heir endis the proloug and begynnys the secund buke of Eneadoss.

  Quhou the Grekis withdrew thame of the raid,

  And of the mekill subtile horss thai maid.

  “The Grekis chiftanys, irkit of the weir

  Bypast or than samony langsum eir,

  And oft rebutyt by fatale destany,

  Ane huge horss, lyke ane gret hil, in hy

  Craftely thai wrocht in wirschip of Pallas

  (Of sawyn beche the ribbis forgyt was)

  Feneand ane oblacioune, as it had be

  For prosper returnyng hame in thar cuntre —

  The voce this wyss throu owt the cite woyk.

  Of choyss men syne, walit by cut, thai tuke

  A gret numbyr, and hyd in bylgis dern

  Within that best, in mony huge cavern;

  Schortly, the belly was stuffit euery deill

  Ful of knychtis armyt in plait of steill.

  Thair standis into the sycht of Troy ane ile

  Weil knawin by name, hecht Tenedos, vmquhile

  Myghty of gudis quhil Priamus ryng sa stude;

  Now it is bot a fyrth in the sey flude,

  A raid onsikkyr for schip or ballyngare.

  In desert costis of this iland thar

  The Grekis thame ful secretly withdrew,

  We wenyng thame hame passit and adew,

  And, with gude wynd, of Myce the realm had socht.

  Quharfor al thai of Troy, blyth as thai mocht,

  Thair langsum duyl and murnyng dyd away,

  Kest vp the portis and yschit furth to play,

  The Grekis tentis desyrus forto se

  And voyd placis quhar thai war wont tobe,

  The cost and strandis left desert al cleyn.

  ‘Heir stude the army of Dolopeis,’ sum wald meyn,

  ‘Cruel Achil heir stentit his paileon;

  Quhar stude the navy, lo the place onder down;

  Heir the ostis war wont to ioyn in feild.’

  And sum wondring the scaithful gyft beheld

  Suldbe offerit to the onweddit Pallas;

  Thai mervellit fast the horss samekill was.

  Bot Tymetes exortis first of all

  It forto leid and draw within the wall

  And forto set it in the cheif palyce —

  Quhidder for dissait I not, or for malyce,

  Or destany of Troy wald sa suldbe.

  Bot Capis than, with ane othir mene

  Quhilk bettir avyss thar myndis set apon,

  Bad cast or drown into the sey onone

  That suspek presand of the Grekis dissait,

  Or kyndill tharvndir flambe of fyris hait,

  Or forto rype that holkit hug belly,

  And the hyd hyrnys to serss and weil espy.

  Quhat nedis mair? The onstabill common voce

  Diuidit was in mony seir purposs,

  Quhen thidder come befor thame al onone,

  Followand a gret rowt, the prest Laocon

  From the cheif tempil rynnand in ful gret hy.

  On far, ‘O wrachit pepil,’ gan he cry,

  ‘Quhou gret wodness is this at e now meyn,

  our ennymyis away salit gif e weyn,

  Or gif e traist ony Grekis gyftis be

  Withowt dissait, falshed and subtelte.

  Knaw e na bettir the quent Vlixes slycht?

  Owder in this tre ar Grekis closit ful rycht,

  Or this engyne is byggit to our skaith,

  To wach our wallis and our byggyngys bath,

  Or to confound and ourquhelm our cite.

  Thar lurkis sum falshed tharin, trastis me.

  Lippyn nocht, Troianys, I pray ou in this horss;

  Quhow euer it be, I dreid the Grekis forss,

  And thame that sendis this gyft always I feir.’

  Thus sayand, with al his strenth a gret speir

  At the syde of that bysnyng best threw he,

  And in ionyngis of the thrawyn wame of tre

  Festynnyt the lance, that trymlyng gan to schaik;

  The braid belly schudderit, and with the straik

  The boyss cavys sowndit and maid a dyn.

  And had nocht beyn that owder his wit was thyn,

  Or than the fatis of goddis war contrary,

  He had assayt, but ony langar tary,

  Hyd Grekis covert with irne to haue rent owt;

  Than suld thou, Troy, haue standyn it, but dowt,

  And the prowd palyce of Kyng Priamus

  Suld haue remanyt it ful gloryus.”

  The takyng of the tresonabill Synon

  And of hys feneit wordis mony one.

  “Lo, the ilk tyme, harland onto the kyng

  Troiane hyrdis with gret clamour dyd bryng

  A ong man, baith his handis behynd his bak

  Hard bundyn, that wilfully fortobe tak

  Rendrit hym self, onknawyn the cawss quhy,

  Forto perform his deid mair secretly;

  By stowt curage reddy to athir of tway,

  Owder tobryng hys slycht to gude assay,

  Or faillyng tharof, dowtless reddy to de

  Less than to Grekis he oppynnyt the cite.

  On ather part hym tobehald atanys

  Fast flokkis about a multitude ong Troianys,

  Byssy to knak and pul the presoneir.

  Now the dissait of Grekis may e heir,

  And all thar falshed lern by this a slycht,

  For, alsso fast in myddis of al our sycht

  As that drery onarmyt wyght was stad

  And with eyn blent about, semyng ful rad,

  Behaldand Troiane rowtis on athir hand,

  ‘Allace,’ quod he, ‘wald God some erd or sand

  Or sum salt sey dyd swelly me alyve!

  Quhat other thing now restis to me catyve,

  Quhamto sal nevir amang Grekis agane

  A place befundyn suythly to remane?

  And maratour Troianys, offendyt eik,

  To sched my blude by paynful deth dois seik.’

  With this regrait our hertis sterit to piete;

  All molestatioune cessit and lattyn be,

  We hym exort reherss, and tobe bald,

  Of quhat lynnage he was, and quhat he wald,

  And to remembir gude hope of ferm supple

  Happynnys oft to presoneris in captiuite.

  He at the last this feneit dreid dyd away

  And on this wyss onone begouth to say:

  ‘Forsuyth, Schir Kyng, I sal quhat euer betyde

  Grant to the all the verite and nocht hyde,

  Nor, be na ways, me lyst nocht to deny

 
; That of the Grekis mene ane am I.

  Thys principaly I wald thou vndyrstude:

  Thocht frawart fortoun miserabill and bayr of gude

  Hass maid Synon, sche sal nocht mak hym als,

  Quhat euer he says, nowder lear nor fals.

  Gyf euer onto our eris come the name,

  The hie wirschip and the renownyt fame

  Of Palamedes, from Belus blude discend,

  Quham Grekis by fals traysoun, as weil is kend,

  Throw corrupt witness stanyt to ded, but less,

  For he the weir forbad and procurit pess —

  Now murn thai for his dede. And with hym heir

  In falloschip my puyr fader in weir

  Send me of outh, as to hym neir of blude.

  Quhil in prosperite of the realm he stude,

  And Grekis ryng by counsale was rewlit wysly,

  Sum name of wyrschip and autorite bair I,

  Bot efter that by envy and haitrent

  Of the fals flechand Vlixes sa quent

  (I iape not, for that I say weyll I knaw)

  Fra he was slane, allace, and brocht of daw,

  Dolorus my lyfe I led in sturt and pane,

  Hevyly weyand my innocent frende thus slane.

  Sess couth I nocht, bot in my franacy,

  Gyf euer I happit my tyme forto espy,

  And victour hame returnyt onto Arge,

  I hecht tobe revengit; with wordis large

  Thus I prouokit scharp feid and malyce baith.

  To me this was fyrst apperans of skaith.

  From thens fordwart Vlixes mair and mayr

  With new crymys begouth affray me sair,

  And dangerus rumour amang the commonys hedis

  Skalit and sew of me in diuerss stedis,

  And, knawyng hym self gylty, by hys consait

  Grathit hys wapynnys of slycht and fals dissait,

  Nor cessit he neuer his purposs to persew

  Quhil the solysting of Calcas I mycht rew . . .

  Bot quharto tell I or rehersis this

  That be na ways displesis ou, I wyss?

  Quhy tary I my deth? And e lyst, stryke:

  Gyf that e favour all the Grekis elyke,

  This is enewch at e haue hard of me —

  Now haist my pane, sen algatis I mon de.

  Vlixes, quhilk is kyng of Ithacy,

  Wald it war swa, and with gret price wald by

  My deth Agamenon als, and Menalay.’

  Than hastit we and brynt to heir hym say,

  Desyrus all the maner forto heir,

  Mysknawyng the gret iniquiteis seir

  And sle craftis of Grekis in euery deid.

  He quakand than, as it had bene for dreid,

  Begouth forto tell furth the remanent,

  Sayand on this wyss, with ful dissemlyt entent:

  ‘The Grekis oft in purposs war and will

  To fle from Troy and leif it standand still

  And, wery of thar lang weir, pass away.

  (Wald God swa thai had done syne mony a day!)

  The seys rage and storm thame stoppit oft,

  And from thar passage the north wynd onsoft

  Held thame abak in angwyss and in feir,

  And principaly now sen this hors was heir

  Of hattyr gestis beldit vp but dowt

  The stormy clowdis our al the ayr gan rowt.

  We dowtyng heiron send the preste Erypilus

  Answer to seik at the tempill of Phebus,

  And from the secret oratory, suyth to sayn,

  Thir soroful tythyngis he wss brocht agane:

  “With blude and by the slauchtir of a maid,

  Grekis, e mesyt the wyndis first,” he said,

  “Quhen that e come of Troy to the cuntre;

  our haym passage by blude mon fundyn be,

  And haue our askyn by deth of a Gregyoun.”

  Quhen to the commonys eris ran the sown

  Of thir wordis, with myndis affrayit atanys

  The cauld dreid ran in throu thar banys

  For feir quhamto was schape this destanye

  Or quho it was Apollo desyrit to die.

  Vlixes than amang thame with gret dyn

  Calcas the gret dyvynour has brocht in

  And bissely at hym inquiris he,

  By respons of the goddis, quha suld de.

  Than mony ane demyt to me, ful rycht,

  The cruel wraik of that dissaitful slycht

  And quyetly persavit how it wald wend.

  This Calcas held his tong ten days to end,

  Kepand secret and cloyss al his entent,

  Refusyng with his word ony to schent

  Or to pronunce the deth of ony wyght.

  Skars at the last, throu gret clamour and slycht

  Of Vlixes constrenyt, but mair abaid,

  As was devisit, the laith word furth braid

  And me adiudgit to send to the altare.

  Tharto alhail the Grekis assentit ar

  And sufferit glaidly so the mater pass;

  Quhar as tofor eueryane tobasyt was

  For hym selwyn, tho blyth was page and knycht

  The chance returnyt on a catyfe wyght.

  Cummyn was the duylful day that doith me gryss,

  Quhen that of me suldbe maid sacryfyce,

  With salt meldir, as weil the gyiss is kend,

  Abowt my hede a garland or a bend.

  I grant that from the deth my self I fred,

  The bandis I brast, and fast away syne fled

  Ontil a muddy marrass quhar, the dyrk nycht,

  Amang the rysp and redis out of sycht

  Full law I lurkit, quhil vp salys drew thai,

  Gif thai perchance be it passit away.

  Now restis thar na hope (allace, fell me!),

  My natyve cuntre sal I neuer se,

  Nor deir childryng, nor fader weil belovit,

  Quham, as I traist, the Grekis, all ammovit

  For myne eschaping, turment sal with pane —

  Thai, saykles wyghtis, sal for my gilt be slane.

  Quharfor, Schir Kyng, be the hie goddis abufe,

  And thar mychtis that trewth best knawis and lufe,

  And by the faith onfylit and leil lawte

  (Gyf it with mortale folkis may fundyn be),

  Haue rewth and piete on sa feil harmys smart

  And tak compassioune in thi gentill hart;

  Apon my wrechit sawle haue sum mercy

  That gyltles sufferis sik dyseyss wrangwisly.’”

  yt of the traytowris fals controvyt slycht,

  That was belevit, allace, with euery wyght.

  “‘Pardon and lyfe to thir terys geif we,’

  Quod Priamus, ‘and mercy grantis fre.’

  And first of all, the mannykillis and hard bandis

  Chargit he lowss of this ilk manis handis,

  With frendly wordis syne thus onto hym said,

  ‘Quhat evir thou art, beis mery and glad,

  Foret the Grekis that lost ar and away,

  From thens fordwart thou salbe owris, perfay.

  Bot schaw trewly this a thing I inquer,

  Onto quhat fyne this huge hors was heir

  Of sa gret statur beldit vp on hie.

  Quha wrocht the wark? Quhat may it signyfie?

  Quhat is it — ane offerand of sum halynes

  Or sum engyne of batale, as I gess?’

  Said Priamus. Bot than the tother wight,

  Ful weil instrukit of Grekis art and slycht,

  Lowsit and laitly fred of al his bandis,

  Onto the starnys hevit vp his handis:

  ‘O he,’ quod he, ‘euerlestand lampis brycht,

  And our dyvyne power and our gret mycht,

  That aucht not beyn forsworn, I testefy,

  And ou altaris and cruel swordis, quham I

  Am eschapit, and al ou goddis wyss

  Quhais garlandis bair I as our sacryfyss,

  Leiffull is now to brek but mair abaid

>   The sworn promyss that I to Grekis maid.

  Leifful is eik tha pepill fortil hait,

  And schaw furth planely al at euer I wait,

  Thar hyd slycht als to rype furth to the grund:

  To na cuntre nor lawis am I bund.

  Sa mot thou, Troy, quham I sal salue fra skath,

  Kepe me thy promyss and thi lawte baith,

  As I sal schaw the verite ilke deill

  And for my lyfe sal rendir ou a gret weill.

  The Grekis trast and comfort mony heris,

  From the begynnyng of thir mortale weris,

  On Pallas help stude haill this towne toget,

  Bot efter that Thedeus wareit get

  With Vlixes, fyndar of wykkytness,

  The fatale rellyk of Palladium, I gess,

  Furth of hir tempill and the hallowit hald

  To reif away forsabilly war so bald,

  And sla the wachis of the cheif castell,

  The haly ymage, grysly forto tell,

  Pollute and fylit, and with thar bludy handis

  Hir vyrgyne valis and blissit godly garlandis

  Presumyt twich — sen syne has euermair

  Bakwart of Grekis the hope went and weilfair,

  Thar mychtis and thar strenthis feblit fast;

  So frawart thame hir mynd this god hes kast

  That with na dowtsum takynnys, ma than twa,

  Hir greif furth schew this ilke Trytonia.

  Skarsly the statw was in thar tempill vpset

  Quhen all hir membris bittir terys swet,

  Hir eyn glowit as ony gleid for ire

  Quharfra thar flaw mony sparkis of fyre,

  A teyrful thing and wonderfull to tell;

  Thryss schynyng down on the grond scho fell,

  Hyr targe trymlyng, and schakyng fast hir speir.

  “Onone, al most e wend to sey infeir,”

  Cryis Calcas, “Nor Grekis instrument

  Of Troy the wallis sal neuer hurt ne rent

  Less than agane the land of Arge be socht

  With alkyn portage quhilk was hydder brocht

  In barge or bilgeit ballyngare our see:

  The goddess mon be mesit als,” quod he.

  And now set thai, with this ilke wynd, haue socht

  Thar land of Grece or Myce, this is thar thocht,

  To graith thar armour and wapynnys by and by,

  And with supple of goddis in cumpany

  In haist forto return agane our see:

  Or e beyn war, apon ou wilt thai be.

  Thus al per ordour declaris thame Calcas,

  At quhais monicioun als vp biggit was

  This bustuus form, in lyknes of a horss,

  For Palladium, and to appeiss the forss

  Of the goddes, and into recompens

  Of thar wrachit and dolorus offens.

  And mairatour, of sa huge quantite

  Calcas commandis beld this statw of tre

  Thus large and gret, weil neir the hevyn on hycht,