by Virgil
Apon Hecate cryand, with mony a ell,
Mychtful in hevin and dym dungeon of hell.
Sum slevit knyvis in the bestis throtis,
And otheris, quhilk war ordand for sik notis,
The warm new blude keppit in cowp and peyss.
Ene him self a ow was blak of flece
Brittnnyt with hys sword, in sacrifice ful hie
Onto the moder of the fureys thre,
And hir gret systir; and to the, Proserpyne,
A eld kow all to trynschit; and eftir syne
To the infernal kyng, quhilk Pluto hait,
Hys nycht altaris begouth to dedicate;
The hail bowkis of bestys, bayn and lyre,
Amyd the flambys kest and haly fyre;
The fat oly dyd he et and peyr
Apon the entralys, to mak thame byrn cleir.
Bot lo, a litill befor the son rysyng,
The grond begouth to rummyss, croyn and ryng,
Vndir thar feyt, and woddy toppys hie
Of thir hillys begyn to move thai se;
Amang the schaddowys and the skuggis mark
The hell hundys hard thai owl and bark,
At cummyng of the goddess Proserpyne.
Sibilla cryis, that prophetess dyvyne;
“All e that bene prophane, away, away!
Swith, outwith al the sanctuar hy ow, hay!
And thou,” quod sche, “hald on thi way with me.
Draw furth thi swerd, for now is neid, Ene,
To schaw thi manheid, and be of ferm curage.”
Thus far scho said, smyte with the godly rage,
And tharwith entris in the oppynnyt cave;
Eneas onabasit, fra all the lave,
Followis his gide with equale pays ful rycht.
O he goddis, in quhais power and mycht
The sawlis beyn, and he dern skuggis dyrk,
Confusyt Chaos, quharof all thing beyn wirk,
Skaldand hellis flude, Flagiton, but lycht,
Placis of silence and perpetuall nycht:
Mot it be leful to me for to tell
Tha thyngis quhilkis I haue hard said of hell,
And, by our myghtis, that I may furth schaw
Seir thingis drynchit in the erd ful law,
And deip envoluyt in myrkness and in myst!
Thai walking furth sa dyrk, oneth thai wyst
Quhidder thai went, amyd dym schaddowys thar,
Quhar evir is nycht, and nevir lyght dois repar,
Throwout the waist dongion of Pluto kyng,
Thai voyd boundis, and that gowsty ryng —
Siklyke as quha wald throw thik woddis wend
In obscure licht, quhen moyn may nocht be kend
As Iupiter, the kyng etheryall,
With erdis skugg hydis the hevynnys all,
And the myrk nycht, with hir vissage gray,
From every thing hess reft the hew away.
Befor the porch and fyrst iawys of hell,
Lamentatioun and wraikfull Thochtis fell
Thar lugyng had; and thar at dwellis eyk
Pail Maladeis that causys folk be seik,
The feirful Dreid, and als onweldy Age,
The fellon Hungir with hir ondantit rage;
Thar was alsso the laithly Indigence,
Terribill of port and schameful hir presence,
The grysly Ded at mony ane hess slane,
The hard Laubour, and diseysful Pane,
The slottry Sleip, Dedis cousyng of kynd,
Inordinat Blithnes of peruersit mynd:
And in the et forganyst thame dyd stand
The mortal Batall with hys dedly brand,
The irne chalmeris of hellys Fureys fell,
Witless Discord, that wondryng maist crewell,
Wymplit and buskit in a bludy bend,
With snakis hung at euery harys end.
And in the myddis of the vtyr ward,
With braid branschis spred our al the sward,
A rank elm tre stude, huge gret, and stok ald —
The wlgar pepil in that sammyn hald
Belevis thir vayn dremys makis thar duellyng;
Vndir ilk leif ful thik thai stik and hyng.
Thar beyn eik monstreis of mony diuerss sort:
The Centawres war stablit at this port,
The dowbil porturat Scilla with thame infeir,
Bryareus with ane hundreth formys seyr,
The bysnyng best, the serpent of Lerna,
Horribilly quhysland, and quent Chymera
With fyre enarmyt on hir toppys hie,
The laithly Harpyes, and the Gorgones thre;
Of thrynfald bodeys gaistly formys dyd grone,
Baith of Erylus and of Geryon.
Eneas smartly, for the hasty dreid,
Hynt furth hys swerd in this place, and, gud speid,
The drawin blaid he profferis thar and heir
Onto tha monstreis, evir as thai drew neir;
And war not his expert mait Scybilla
Tawcht him thai war bot voyd gaistis all tha,
But ony bodeis, as wandrand wrechys waist,
He had apon thame ruschit in gret haist,
And with his bytand brycht brand, all invane,
The twme schaddowis smyttyn to haue slane.
Tyll hellys fludys Ene socht neddyrmar,
And Palynurus, hys sterysman, fand thar.
Fra thyne, strekis the way profund onone
Deip onto hellys flude of Acheron,
With holl bysme and hydduus swelch onrude,
Drumly of mud, and skaldand as it war wod,
Popland and bulrand furth on athir hand
Onto Cochitus all his slyke and sand.
Thir ryveris and thir watyris kepit war
By ane Charon, a grisly ferryar,
Terribil of schap and sluggart of array,
Apon his chyn feil cannos harys gray,
Lyart feltrit tatis; with burnand eyn red,
Lyk twa fyre blesys fixit in his hed;
Hys smottrit habyt, owr his schulderis lydder,
Hang pevagely knyt with a knot togiddir.
Hym self the cobill dyd with hyss bolm furth schow,
And, quhen hym list, halit vp salys fow.
This ald hasart careis owr fludis hoyt
Spretis and figuris in hys irne hewyt boyt,
All thocht he eildit was, or step in age,
Als fery and als swippir as a page;
For in a god the age is fresch and greyn,
Infatigabill and immortall as thai meyn.
Thiddir to the bra swarmyt all the rowt
Of ded gostis, and stud the bank abowt,
Baith matronys and thar husbandis all yferis,
Ryal pryncis, and nobill chevaleris,
Smal childering, and ong damysellis onwed
And fair springaldis laitly ded in bed,
In fader and moderis presence laid on beir.
Als gret numbir thiddir thikkit infeir
As, in the first frost eftir hervist tyde,
Levis of treys in the wod doys slyde;
Or byrdis flokkis owr the fludis gray
Onto the land seikand the nerrest way,
Quhom the cald sesson cachis owr the see
Into sum benar realm and warm cuntre.
Thar stude thai prayand sum support to get,
That thai mycht with the formast owr be fet,
And gan vp heving petuusly handis twa,
Langand tobe apon the forthir bra.
Bot this soroful boytman, with brym luyk,
Now thir, now thame, within his veschel tuke,
And other sum expellit, and maid do stand
Far from the ryvage syde apon the sand.
Awondrit of this sterage and the press,
“Say me, virgyn,” quod Ene, “or thou cess,
Quhat menys sik confluence at this watir side?
Quhat wald thir sawlys? Quhy nyl thai nocht byde?
Quhilk causis be
yn, or quhat diuersite,
Sum from the brays thame withdraw I se;
And other sort, eik, of thir sawlys ded
Rollys owr this ryver, cullorit as the led?”
Thys ancyant relligius woman than,
But mair delay, to answer thus began:
“Anchises get, heynd child, curtass and gude,
Discend ondowtabill of the goddis blude,
The deip stank of Cochitus doith thou se,
And eik the hellis puyll, hait Stix,” quod sche,
“Be quhais myghtis the goddis ar full laith
And dredis sair to sweir, syne fals thar aith.
All thir thou seis stoppit at the schor
Beyn helples folk, onerdit and forlor;
on grysly ferryar to name Charon hait;
Thai beyn all bereyt he careys in hys bayt.
It is not to him lefull, he ne may
Thame ferry owr thir rowtand fludis gray,
Nor to the hydduus onder costys haue,
Quhil thar banys be laid to rest in grave.
Quha ar onbereit ane hundreth er mon bide,
Waverand and wandrand by this bankis syde;
Than, at the last, to pass owr in this boyt
Thai beyn admyt, and costis thame not a grote,
And frely may behaldyn or espy
Tha lakis, quhilkis thame langis to vissy.”
Anchises son tho styntis a litil stownd,
And baith his futsteppis fixit in the grond,
Musyng in mynd sum deil, sad in a part,
And of this hard forton kauch rewth in hart.
Thar saw he, dolorus and wofull of cheir,
But funeral seruyce, nevir laid on beir,
Lucaspes and Orontes, baith twane,
Quhilum masteris of the schyp Lyciane,
Quham baith yfeir, as said befor haue we,
Saland from Troy throw owt the wally see,
The dedly storm ourquhelmyt with a quhiddir,
Baith men and schip welt vnder flude togyddir.
Lo, Palynurus eyk, his sterysman,
Amang otheris fast to the watir ran,
Quhilk laitly saland in the Libyane see,
As that he gan behald the starnys hie,
Togidder with the helmstok, quhar he stude,
Owr schipburd swakkit was amyd the flude.
And skarsly as he, Ene, gan hym espy,
Amang dirk skowgis standand full drery,
First he him gretis, sayand to him thus:
“Quhilk of the goddis, O Palynurus,
The ws bereft, and drynt amyd the see?
Quhow tyd that cace? Declar me, I pray the.
For certis, bricht Apollo nevir or now
Was fals to me; bot I wait neuer how
Of hys answer twiching the he ravyt,
And hess my mynd tharin al hail dissavit;
That schew thou suld hailskarth owr the see
Onto the grond of Ital cum,” quod he.
“Se, thus his lawte and promyt is keip!”
The tother answeris with a petuus peip:
“Maist worthy duke, Anchises son sa deir,
Nowder hath the of Phebus the answer,
Vndir his secrete cortyne, so dissave,
Ne it na god sa far hass me bywave,
Nor drownyt in the deip, as e beleve.
Bot, as I slaid our burd to my myscheve,
The helmstok, or gubernakil of tre,
Quharwith I rewlit owr courss throu the see,
Lenand tharon sa fast, per cace it threw,
And rent away owr burd with me I drew.
The wally seys to wytnes draw I heir,
That for my self tuke I nane sa gret feir
As of thi schip, quhom that I knew ful quyte
Spuleit of hir graith, and lodysman furth smyte,
Dreding scho suld haue perist in sik neid,
Owr the huge swelland fludis rayss on breid.
The sowth wynd Nothus thre days me drave
Throw owt the see, with violent wallys wave;
Skarss on the ferd day at morn dyd I spy,
Heich from the wallys croppis, Italy.
Huly and fair onto the cost I swam,
And tho almaist in surte cummyn I am,
Ne war the crewel pepil of tha landis,
As that I grippit with my crukit handis
The scharp rolkis toppys at the schoyr,
In hevy wayt frog stad, and chargyt soyr,
Thai gan with irne wapynnys me invaid,
Wenyng a spy that I had beyn, thai said,
From thar cuntre sum pray to dryve away.
So now I am bedyit in fludis gray,
And wyndis warpis my corps apon the strandis,
Quhar for I pray the, hevand vp my handis,
And be the plesand light of hevyn requiris,
And be the hailsum ayr at thou inspiris,
And be thi weilbelovit fader dyng,
And gud hope of thi ong sonnys ofspryng;
O thou onvenquyst valyant champyoun,
Delyuyr me fra thir gret harmys onon,
Or, at the leist, grave me in sepulture,
Sen weil thow kan and may perform that cur;
Speir to the portis quhilkis Velynos hayt;
Or gyf thar may be fundyn ony gayt,
Quhilk thy blyssit moder hess the techit rycht,
Reke thy rycht hand onto this wrechit wight,
And haue me with the our thir fludis red;
So, at the leist, I may, eftir my ded,
Into sum plesand sted remane and rest —
For I beleve fermly thou nocht addrest
Sa large fludis but goddis authoryte,
Nor Stix this layk fortil owr swym,” quod he.
Quhen that he had thir wordis said express,
Syk answer til hym maid the prophetess:
“Palynurus,” quod scho, “thou sary syre,
Quhiddir is becummyn sik ondantyt desyre
To the, and ferss will sa onressonabill?
Wenys thou, onerdyt now, and thus onhabill,
Owr Stix the hellys puyll sik wyss to fair,
And grysly fludis, abowt quham doith repar
Thir dreidfull fureys, to behald and se?
Oncallyt, on the ondyr bra wald thou be?
Desist, and cess to weyn with thy prayer
The goddis decrete at thou may brek or steir.
Bot now inprent in thy ramembrance
Thir wordys, in solace of thy hard chance.
Quhar thy body is at this tyme present,
For feir tharof, the pepil adiacent,
By wondir takynnys from the hevynnys schaw
Constrenyt, sal bygrave thy banys law,
And on thy corps erect a sepultur,
Doyng tharto solempnyt funeral cur;
Palynurus to name that place for thy
Sal bar, and clepit be perpetualy.”
With thir wordis assuagyt hys hevy thocht,
And fra hys sorofull hart, as that he mocht,
Sum deil expellyt hess the dolorus cayr,
Reiosyt of the grond hys surname bayr.
Quharfor Eneas and Scybill, baith tway,
As thai begunnyn had, held furth thar way.
Owr Stix the flude quhou that Ene dyd fair,
And Cerberus in cave hard ell and rayr.
And as thai gan approch toward the flude,
This churlych boyt man, on Stix quhar he stude,
Alsswyth as he persavit thame cum swa
Throw the darn wod, and draw nerar the bra,
First with sik bustuus wordis he thame grat,
And, but offence, gan thame chidyng thus plat:
“Quhat evir thou be, that cummys enarmyt so
Towart owr fludis, quhiddir etlys thou go?
For quhat causs come thou hyddir? Tell me tyte;
Stand styl thar as thou art, with mekill syte.
Press na forthir, for this is the hald richt
Of gaistis, schaddow
ys, sleip, and dovyrrit nycht:
Onlefull war, and ane forbodyn thing,
Within this passyngear our Stix to bryng
Ony levand wight. Certis, in myne entent,
I am nocht glaid yt of the last sa went,
Nor that I careyt Hercules owr this layk,
Ne Thesyus, and Pyrothous hys mayk,
All thocht thai war cummyn of goddis lynage
And invynsibill of strenth and vassallage.
For this ilk Hercules, with hys stalwart handis,
The grym wardane of hell strenyt in bandis,
And drew hym trymlyng from the kyngis trone.
The tother twa gret violence wald haue done;
The fresch Proserpyne, Plutois lady gay,
Furth of hir bowr begouth to led away.”
To hym agane this answer maid express
Of Amphrisya Phebus prophetess:
“Do all suspicioun furth of thy consate;
Heir is,” quod scho, “nane sik gyle nor dissate;
Na violence owr wapynnys doith pretend.
Weill lykis ws, it doith ws not offend,
Thocht in hys cave our hydduus portar
owland affray the ded gaistis evyrmar;
We stand content, it sufficyth ws alssua,
That ay remane the chaste Proserpina
Within hir fader broderis boundis and ryng.
Bot heir is cummyn, of Kyng Troas ofspring,
Eneas, full of piete and knychthed,
To vissy hys luffit fader, quhilk is ded,
Discendit to the law skuggis of hell.
Of sa gret vertu and piete, quhilk I tell,
Gyf na considerance may the move,” quod sche,
“At leist thou knawys this goldin granyt tre,”
And with that word the branch schew and omdyd,
That pryvely vndir hyr clok was hyd.
The rageand hart, all ful of wraith and ire,
Than wolx appesit of this laithly syre,
And but ma wordys or langar delay,
Awondryt of the presand fresch and gay,
Thys fatale wand sa precyus was, I meyn,
That he tofor a lang tyme had nocht seyn,
Hys watry hewyt boyt, haw lyke the see,
Towart thame turnys and addressis he,
And gan approch onto the bra in haist,
Syne othir sawlys expellit hess and chast
Furth of hys bayt, quhilk sat endlang the wayll.
He strekyt sone hys ayris, and grathis his saill,
And tharwithall the byg weghty Ene
Within his veschell boddum ressavis he.
Vndir the paysand and the hevy charge
Gan grane or geig full fast the saymyt barge,
Sa ful of ryftys, and with lekkis perbrake,
Scho suppit huge watir of the layk.
Bot, at the last, owtour the flude it than
Salfly scho brocht baith prophetess and man,
And furth thame set amyd the fowl glar,
Amang the fawch ryspys harsk and star.