The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Gawin Douglas

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      Peraventur, of Priamus wald ȝe speir

      Quhou tyd the chance, hys fait gif ȝe lyst heir

      Quhen he the cite saw takyn and downbet,

      And of his palyce brokyn euery ȝet,

      Amyd the secret closettis eik hys fays,

      The auld grayth, al for nocht, to hym tays

      Hys hawbryk quhilk was lang furth of vsage,

      Set on his schulderis trymlyng than for age;

      A sword, but help, about hym beltis he,

      And ran towart hys fays, reddy to de.

      Amyd the clos, vnder the hevyn al bayr,

      Stude thar that tyme a mekil fair altare,

      Neyr quham thar grew a rycht ald lawrer tre,

      Bowand towart the altare a litill wie,

      That with his schaddow the goddis did ourheld.

      Hecuba thydder, with hir childer, for beild

      Ran al invane, and about the altare swarmys,

      Brasand the godlyke ymage in thar armys,

      As for the storm dowis flokkis togidder ilkane:

      Bot quhen scho saw how Priamus has tane

      His armour, so as thocht he hald beyn ȝyng;

      Quhat fulych thocht, my wrachit spows and kyng,

      Movis the now syk wapynnys forto weld?

      Quhidder hastis thou? quod sche; of na sik beld

      Haue we now mystir, nor syk deffendouris as the,

      The tyme is nocht ganand tharto we se.

      In cace Hector war present heir, my son,

      He mycht nocht succour Troy, for it is won:

      Quharfor, I pray the, syt doune and cum hydder,

      And lat this altare salue ws al togidder,

      Or than atanys al heir lat ws de.

      Thus said scho, and, with sik sembland as mycht be,

      Hym towart hir has brocht, but ony threte,

      And set the auld doune on the haly sete.

      Bot lo! Polytes, ane of Priamus sonnys,

      Quhilk from the slauchter of Pyrrus away run is,

      Throw wapynnys fleyng and his ennemys all,

      By lang throwgangis and mony voyd hall;

      Woundit he was, and come to seik reskew;

      Ardently Pyrrus gan him fast persew,

      With grondyn lance at hand so neir furthstrekit,

      Almaist the hed hym twichit and arekit.

      Quhil at the last, quhen he is cummyn, I weyn,

      Befor his faderis and his moderis eyn,

      Smate hym down ded in thar sycht, quhar he stude,

      The gaist he ȝald with habundans of blude.

      Priamus than, thocht he was halfdeill ded,

      Mycht nocht conteyn his ire nor wordis of fed,

      Bot cryis furth: For that cruell offens,

      And owtragyus fuyl hardy violens,

      Gif thar be piete in the hevin abone

      Quhilk takis heid to this at thou has done,

      The goddis mot condyngly the forȝeld,

      Eftir thi desert rendring sik gaynȝeld,

      Causit me behald myne awyn child slane, allace!

      And with hys blude fylit the faderis face.

      Bot he, quhamby thou fenys thi self byget,

      Achil, was not to Priam sa hard set;

      For he, of rycht and faith eschamyt eik,

      Quhen that I come hym lawly to beseik,

      The ded body of Hector rendrit me,

      And me convoyit hame to my cite.

      Thus sayand, the ald waykly, but fors or dynt,

      A dart dyd cast, quhilk, with a pyk, gan stynt

      On his harnes, and in the scheild dyd hyng,

      But ony harm or other dammagyng.

      Quod Pyrrus, sen always thou saist swa,

      To Pellyus son, my fader, thou most ga:

      Beir hym this message, ramembir weil thou tell

      Him al my warkis and dedis sa cruell;

      Schaw Neoptolemus is degenerit cleyn.

      Now salt thou de: and with that word, in teyn,

      The ald trymlyng toward the altare he drew,

      That in the hait blude of his son, sched new,

      Fundrit; and Pyrrus grippis hym by the hayr

      With his left hand, and with the tother al bayr

      Drew furth his schynand swerd, quhilk in his syde

      Festynnyt, and onto the hyltis dyd he hyde.

      Of Priamus thus was the finale fait;

      Fortone heir endit his gloryus estait,

      Seand Ilion al byrn in fyris brown,

      And Troys wallis fall and tumlyt down;

      That ryal Prince, vmquhile, our Asya,

      Apon sa feil pepil and realmys alswa

      Ryngnyt in welth, now by the cost lyis ded,

      Bot as a stok, and of hakkit his hed;

      A corps, but lyfe, renown, or other fame,

      Onknawyn of ony wight quhat was his name.