Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

  For oft the fatis of the goddis seir

  Hass ws compellit by thar strang power

  Onto our landis and thir costis seik.

  Schir Dardanus born of this cuntre eik

  Desiris hiddir to return agane;

  And with commandmentis strait, ful mony ane,

  Appollo chargit ws to sper bedene

  To Tybyr, flowand in the sey Tirrene,

  And to the fontane and the strandis cleir

  Of Munycus, the hallowit fresch ryver.

  And forthir eik our prince hes to the sent

  Of his ald fortoun bot a smal present,

  The sobir levyngis reft from Troys fyre.

  Into this cowp of gold Anchiss hys syre

  At the altar was wont to sacrify;

  And of the gret kyng Pryam, mast douchty,

  This was the cheif dyademe our the laif,

  With quham he crownyt sat and domys gaif;

  Hys ceptre als, and eik his tyar hat,

  Hallowit quharwith at sacrifice he sat;

  And this was eik hys precius rob ryall,

  By Troiane ladeis wrocht and brusyt all.”

  Herand sic wordis of Ilioneus,

  Ful stil his vissage haldis Latynus;

  Hys syght onmovyt to the erd dyd he prent,

  Witht eyn rollyng, and erys rycht attent.

  The brusyt purpur movis hym na thing,

  Nor Priamus ceptour sa sar steris the kyng,

  As that he musys thochtfull gretumly

  Apon his douchteris spousage and ally,

  And in his mind gan cumpas oft infeir

  His fader Fawnus responss and answer,

  Thynkand this ilk Eneas semyt tobe

  The self stranger, quham fatale destanee

  Signyfeit tocum furth of ane vncouth sted,

  Tobe his son in law, and forto led

  Equale dignite with him in that ryng,

  Ful of souerane vertu, quhais ofspring

  By thar power suld ioys and occupy

  The haill warld vndre thar seneory.

  And at the last, efter ful lang musyng,

  Witht ioyus cheir on this wyss said the kyng:

  “The goddis our begynnyng furthir and speid,

  And thar pronosticatioun manifest in deid.

  I grant thyne axyng, Troiane messynger,

  And our rewardis ressauys in thank, for heir

  e be all hartlie welcum, trastis me:

  So lang as levys Kyng Latyn in this cuntre,

  The riches of mast plentuus fertil grund

  e sal nocht want, that in this realm is fund,

  Ne it nane othir welth, weilfar and ioy

  Quhilkis e war wont to bruke and haue in Troy.

  Bot, at the lest, e causs our prince Enee,

  Gyf that so gretlie he desiris tobe

  With ws confiderat intil allyance,

  Or gif he langis, but langar discrepans,

  Within our palice to entir befor othir,

  And be clepit our companeoun or brother,

  Dwel no langar, bot cum hidder in haist,

  Ne skar not at his frendis face as a gaist.

  For the mast part of our convene and band

  To me salbe to twich our kyngis hand.

  And now agane e sal, turnand our went,

  Bar to our prince this my charge and commandment.

  I haue a douchter quham responsis schaw

  Furth of my faderis oratory law,

  And mony feirful takynnys of the hevin

  Be diuerss ways schawin, and fyry levin,

  Wil not suffir at scho in wedlok be

  Gevin ontil a man of our cuntre;

  Bot all the spaymen declaris, by and by

  Thar suld cum to remane in Italy,

  Fra strange costis, tobe our son in law,

  A douchty man, vnkouth and onknaw,

  Quhilk, of his lynage and posterite,

  Our name abufe the sternys sal vphie.

  Gyf that my mynd can ocht ymagyn rycht,

  I weyn that he suldbe the sammyn knycht,

  And gladly wald, with al my hartis desire,

  The werdys tharto callit that rial syre.”

  This beand sayd, the kyng Latyn but faill

  Gart cheiss of al his stedis furth the waill.

  Thre hundreth mylk quhite horss and far had he,

  Seysit and fed in stalwart stallis hie:

  For euery Troiane per ordour thar the kyng

  With purpour howsouris bad a cursur bring;

  Thar brusyt trappuris and patrellis reddy bovne,

  With goldin bruchis hang from thar brestis dovne;

  Thar harnessing of gold rycht deirly dicht;

  Thai runge the goldin mollettis burnyst bright.

  Ontil Eneas als, thar prynce absent,

  A ryal chair richly arrayit he sent,

  With twa stern stedis tharin ok infeir,

  Cummyn of the kynd of hevinly horssis wer,

  At thar neyss thirlys the fyre fast sneryng owt;

  Of the ilke stok and stude sprungyn, but dowt,

  Quhilk Circes, crafty and engenyus,

  And mar subtell than evir was Dedalus,

  Be a quent way fra hir awin fader staw,

  Makand his stedis byleip meris onknaw,

  That by hir sle consait and wily mynd

  Sik maner horss engendrit of bastard kynd.

  Iuno, persavand the Troianys beild a town,

  For greif and dolour like to swelt and swoun.

  Wyth sik giftis Eneas messyngeris,

  And of Kyng Latyn with ioyful answeris,

  Returnys, montit hie on horss ilkane,

  Of peax and concord bodword brocht agane.

  Bot lo, the spouss of Iove, cruell Iuno,

  The self tyme can return fro Arge tho

  (The quhilk cuntre, of nobill brute and fame,

  From Innachus the kyng has tak his name)

  And has careit throu the ayr puyr,

  Quhilk is hyr proper regioun. As scho fur

  Down from the skyis, on far can do spy

  Of the heland Pachynnus in Scycilly;

  Beheld the Troiane navy stand on raw,

  And Eneas blyth and glaid scho saw

  Of the ioyus bodword onto him brocht,

  That bissely, with all the haist he mocht,

  Inforcis thar herbry and strenth to beld,

  Than all assurit of this land and feld,

  And thar schippis left desolate and waist.

  In extasy scho stude, and mad almaist;

  In suddand dolour smyttin wonder smert,

  Can schak hir hed, with harmys at hir hart,

  And of hir breist thir wordis warpis in hy:

  “Och, kynd of pepill haitfull and onworthy!

  For all the willis and the fatis Troiane

  Bene to our mynd and destaneis euer agane.

  Mycht thai nocht all haue bene slane in Troy feildis?

  Mycht thai nocht all haue swelt thar vnder scheildis?

  Ar thai nocht venquist and ourcum ilkane?

  Quhat, may nocht thir presoneris agane betane?

  Hess nocht Troy all infyrit it thame brynt?

  Na, all sic laubour is fornocht and tynt.

  Haue thai nocht fund, forto eschape away,

  Throw myd fyre and myd ostis, sovir way?

  So trast I now at last my fors and mychtis

  Lyis dolf and irkit be on cative wightis:

  Insaciate of haitrent, I rest in pess,

  That was so bald afor, and nevir wald cess,

  Quhen thai war chasyt of thar natyve land,

  To sturt thame on the streme fra hand to hand,

  And to persew tha flemyt vavengouris

  Throw all seys, my self, ilk tyde and howris.

  Agane Troianys consumyt ar be me

  The strenth of all the hevynnys and the see.

  Quhat proffittit me Syrtis, that sowkand sand,

  Or it Scilla, the swelch is ay rowtand?

  O
r quhat avalit Caribdis bisme huge?

  Ar thai not stakit at rest, and weil luge

  In the desirit sond of Tybris bay,

  Assoverit of the sey, and hes na fray

  Of me, ne of my malice and fant thocht?

  The stern pepil Lapythos bryng to nocht,

  And quyt distroy, mycht Mars for his offens.

  Was it nocht eik grantit in recompens

  To Dyan, by the fader of goddis ichone,

  To wreke hir greif in ancyent Calidone?

  Quhat falt maid the Lapythos or trespas,

  Or Calidon, at sa sar punyst was?

  Abuf myssour forsuyth thai chastyit war.

  Bot I, the spouss of the gret Iupiter,

  Quhilk sa onhappy al ways I mycht fynd

  Thame til ennoy consait left nocht behynd,

  Quhilk hes myself in propir person eik

  Turnyt and writhit all wentis I couth seik,

  Am now venquist be a man, this Ene.

  Bot, gif my power nocht sufficient be

  Or gret eneuch, quhy suld I dreid or spar

  To purches help, forsuyth, atour alquhar?

  Gif I may nocht the hevinly goddis inclyne

  To my purposs, I sal seik forthir syne

  To thame that far doun into Achiron dwell,

  And sal commove that depast pyt of hell.

  I put the cace, that I may nocht optene

  From Latyn land thame to expel al clene,

  Bot be the fatis immovabill destane,

  Lavynya remanys spouss to Ene:

  yt at lest may fall stop or delay

  In sa gret materis for a eir or twa,

  And lefull is it eik of athir kyng

  The retennew in batale down to dyng.

  Lat the eldfar and mawch knyt vp frendschip

  Be price of thar pepillis and falloschip.

  With gret effusioun of the blude Troiane,

  And sammyn of pepill Rutiliane,

  Thou salbe saisyt, madyn, to dowry;

  Bellona, goddes of batale, sal stand by,

  Tobe convoyar of the mariage.

  Nevir Heccuba, of Cisseus lynage,

  Quhilk, bund with child, dremyt scho dyd furth bring

  A gleid of fyre, or hait brand lycht byrnyng,

  Was deliuer of sik flambis, but faill,

  As thou salber, and fyris coniugale;

  And forthir eik, this Venus proper birth,

  And secund Paris, Ene, litill wirth,

  Sal rayss and kyndill dedly flambe agane

  Of hait fyre brondis amang the wallis Troiane.”

  Fra this was said, with horribil mynd in haist

  Doun to the erth scho socht, and the laith gaist

  Furth of hir set and myrk dongeoun of hell

  Scho dyd provoke, and callys with a ell

  Ane of the sory furyus sisteris thre,

  Alecto, quhilk causis all myschefe tobe,

  And evir mar desiris of hir kynd

  And hess full grene enprentit in hir mynd

  The dedly batalis and the dolorus wer,

  Stryfe and dissait, harm and discordis seir.

  This fendlych hellys monstre Tartareane

  Is hatit with hir other sisteris ilkane,

  And Pluto eik, the fader of hellis see,

  Reputtis that bysmyng belch haitfull to se:

  Into samony grisly formys seir

  Scho dois hir self translate, and of sik feir

  Bene hir cruell schappis and vissage,

  Sa fowle and laithly all hir personage,

  That, for hir pilis, and in sted of hir hair,

  Feil snakis springis our hir body alquhar.

  Quhilk fury quent, of kynd sa peralus,

  Iuno tystis to myscheif, sayand thus:

  “Do to me, virgyn, dochtir of the dyrk nycht,

  This a seruyce, thy proper wark be richt,

  Do me this laubour, quhilk is thyne of det,

  That our honouris and fame be nocht ourset,

  Ne it subdewit into sik a place

  As with one Troianys, standis voyd of grace:

  Lat nevir Ene so prowdly to optene

  The spousage of Latinus douchter schene,

  And, by na way, lat nevir his feris weld

  A fut braid of Italiane grond nor feld.

  Thou can brethir of ane assent mony eris

  Aganyst other enarm in mortale weris;

  Thou may ourturn with haitrent and with strife

  The hail houshald, the man agane his wife;

  Thou may skurgyng and strakis in lugyngis rayss,

  And thou of frendis may mak mortale fays,

  And dedly fyrbrondis kyndill in thak and rwys;

  A thousand namys thou hass that na man luffis,

  A thousand ways folkis to ennoy and schent.

  Knok on thy brudy breist at myne entent;

  Brek and cast doun thar concord maid of new;

  Causys of stryfe and batale I wald thou sew;

  Gar all the power, and euerilk stowt ongkeir,

  First in thar myndis desire to move the weir,

  Syne cry, and ask armys and batale all,

  And rusch tharto forsely gret and small.”

  Alecto, throw persuasioun of Iuno

  Queyn Amata al wytless gart sche go.

  This cruel monstre, Alecto, onane

  Infect with feil vennom Gorgonyane,

  Socht first to Latyum, and the chymmys hee

  Of Lawrentyn, the kyngis cheif cite,

  And prevely begouth awach and lowr

  About his spouss Quene Amatais bour,

  Quhilk, all inflambit in ire and wifely thochtis

  Of this new come of Troianys, all on flocht is,

  The bissy curis of Turnus mariage

  Skaldyng hir breist and mynd half in a rage.

  Thys wikkyt goddes towart hir alsfast

  Ane of hir slymy serpent haris dyd cast,

  Deip in hir bosum leyt inslip with slycht,

  Amyd hir hart pipis or precordialis lycht,

  That be this ilk monstris instigatioun

  Wod wraith scho suld perturble al the toun.

  Thys eddir, slyding owr slekit bodeis soft

  Of thir ladeis, amang thar wedis oft

  Went thrawin so that nane felt quhar scho glidis,

  The furyus queyn dissauyng on athir sydis,

  And in hir mynd can blaw and kyndill syne

  Ane felloun greif or curage serpentyne.

  The grysly serpent sum tyme semyt tobe

  About hir halss a lynkit gold chene;

  And sum tyme of hir curche, lap with a waif,

  Becum the selvage or bordour of hir quafe,

  Sum tyme hir hed layss, forto knyt hir hair —

  Ful slyde scho slippis hir membris our alquhar.

  Sone as the first infectioun a litil we

  Of slymy vennom inet quently had sche,

  Than scho begouth hir wittis to assale,

  And depe amyd hir banys forto skaill

  And multiply the rage or byrnand fury;

  For it nocht all our hyr breist cruelly

  The spreit hes felt the flambe frenettical.

  Quharfor the mar sobirly furth with all,

  Eftir the common custum and vsage

  Of ald matronys in thar wyld dotage,

  With huge complaynt for hir dochter and regrate,

  And Troiane wedlok contrar hir consate,

  Thus said scho weping, and that ful petuusly:

  “O fader Kyng Latyn, quhy wilt thou, quhy?

  Quhat, sal our child, Lavynya the may,

  To banyst men be geif to leid away?

  Nowdir hess thou of thy tendir get piete,

  Ne it compassioun of thy self, ne me

  Hir moder, quham sa sone, ful dissolate,

  one falss sey revar wil leif in sturt, God wayt,

  And cary the maid our the deip fludis haw,

  Alssone as evir the first north wynd dois blaw?

  Was it nocht ev
in be sik a feneit gyrd

  Quhen Parys furth of Phryge, the Troiane hyrd,

  Socht to the cite Laces in Sparta,

  And thar the dochter of Lydea stal awa,

  The fair Helyn, and to Troy tursyt raith?

  Quhat sal avale our faith and hallowit aith?

  Quhat of our ancyent purvyance, schire kyng,

  That e had of our frendis and ofspring?

  Quhat of our richt hand, hald sa gloryus,

  Sa feil syth gevin to our cousyng Turnus?

  Gyf that thou sekis ane alienar onknaw

  Tobe thy mawch or thy gud son in law,

  And hes that thing determyt in thy hed,

  Constrenyt tharto by the command and red

  Of thy fader Fawnus, as to that gate

  Heir a litil my fantasy and consate.

  All cuntre onsubieckit vnder our wand,

  It may be clepit ane oncouth strange land,

  And al at thar indwellis alienaris bene;

  Of sik strangeris the goddis spak, I weyn.

  And gyf we list seik forthirmar, it than

  To compt the first begynnyng of Turnus clan,

  Inachus and Achrysyus, but weir,

  Twa kyngis of Grece, his forfaderis wer;

  Thus is he Greik, to compt his greis a pece,

  And cum of Myce the myddil realm of Grece.”

  Eftir at the quene with sik wordis, all for nocht,

  Assayt had Kyng Latyn, as scho nocht,

  And fand at he resistit hyr entent,

  The furyus poyson than of the serpent

  Deip in hir breist and entralis swiftly eid,

  And dyd our all partis of hir body spreid,

  So that, forsuyth, catchit onhappely

  With hydduus monstreis, gan scho ryn and cry

  Throw owt the large cite in wild dotage,

  But resson, strikkin with the nymphis rage.

  As sum tyme sclentys the round tap of tre,

  Hyt with the twynyt quhip dois quhirl, we se,

  Quham childyr dryvis bissy at thar play

  Abowt the closs and voyd hallis all day,

  Scho smyttyn with the tawys dois rebound,

  And rynnys about, abowt, in cirkill round:

  The wytless sort of forsaid babbys yng

  Studeis awondrit of sa nyce a thing,

  This turnyt tre so all that berdless rowt

  Ferleis to se swa sleip and quhirl abowt,

  And all thar mynd settis it to cach and dryve —

  Na slawar went Amata, the kyngis wife,

  Throw owt the myd citeis of Latyn land,

  And throu the ferss pepill, fra hand to hand.

  And forthir eik, onto the woddis grene

  With swyft fard catchys furth this quene,

  Feneand the rage of Bacchus, and gret mycht,

  A mar myschefe forto controve and slycht,

  And grettar fury swyth scho can begyn;

  Hyr douchter hyd thir woddy hillys within,

  Tharby the Troiane spousage to delay,