The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Gawin Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ observe and keip the spreth or pray.

      Thydder in a hepe was gadderit precyus geir,

      Riches of Troy, and other jowellis seyr

      Reft from all partis; and of tempillis brynt

      Of massy gold the veschel war furth hynt

      From the goddis, and goldyn tabillis all,

      With precyus vestmentis of spulȝe triumphall:

      The ȝyng childring, frayt matronys eik,

      Stude al on raw, with mony petuus screik

      Abowt the tresour quhymperand wondir sayr.

      And I alsso my self sa bald wolx thair

      That I durst schaw my voce in the dyrk nycht,

      And clepe and cry fast throw the stretis on hycht

      Ful dolorusly, Crevsa! Crevsa!

      Agane, feil sys, invane I callit swa

      Throu howsys and the cite quhar I ȝoyd,

      But owder rest or resson, as I war woyd;

      Quhil that the figur of Crevsa and gost,

      Of far mair statur than ayr quhen scho was lost,

      Befor me, catyve, hyr sekand, apperit thar.

      Abasyt I wolx, and widdyrsyns start my hayr;

      Speke mycht I not, the voce in my hals swa stak.

      Than scho, belyfe, on this wys to me spak,

      With sik wordis my thochtis to asswage:

      O my sweit spows, into sa furyus rage

      Quhat helpis thus thi selwyn to torment?

      This chance is not, but goddis willis went;

      Nor it is nocht leifful thing, quod sche,

      Fra hyne Crevse thou turs away with the,

      Nor the hie governour of the hevin abufe is

      Wil suffir it so tobe; bot the behuffis

      From hens to wend ful far into exile,

      And our the braid sey sail furth mony a myle,

      Or thou cum to the land Hesperya,

      Quhar, wyth soft cowrs, Tybris of Lydya

      Rynnys throu the rych feldis of pepil stowt:

      Thar is gret substans ordanyt the, but dowt,

      Thar salt thou have a realm, thar salt thou ryng,

      And wed to spows the douchtir of a kyng.

      Thy wepyng and thi teris do away,

      Quhilk thou makis for thi luffyt Crevsay;

      For I, the neyce of mychty Dardanus,

      And gude douchtyr onto the blyssit Venus,

      Of Myrmydonys the realm sal nevir behald,

      Nor ȝit the land of Dolopeis so bald,

      Nor go to serve na matron Gregion;

      Bot the gret modir of the goddis ilkan

      In thir cuntreis withhaldis me for evyr.

      Adew, fayr weil, for ay we mon dissevir!

      Thou be gude frend, lufe weil, and keip fra skath

      Our a ȝong son is common til ws baith.

      Quhen this was spokkyn, fra me away scho glaid,

      Left me wepyng and feil wordis wald have said;

      For sche sa lychtly vanysyt in the ayr,

      That with myne armys thrys I presyt thar

      About the hals hir fortil haue belappit,

      And thrys, al waist, my handis togidder clappit:

      The figur fled as lycht wynd, or the son beym,

      Or maist lykly a waverand swevyn or dreym.

      Thus finaly, the nycht al passit and gane,

      Onto my falloschip I return agane,

      Quhar that I fand assemlyt, al newly,

      So huge a rowt of our folkis that I

      Wondryt the nowmyr; thai sa mony weir

      Of men and women gadderit al infeir,

      And ȝong pepil to pas in exile abill,

      And of commonys a sort sa miserabill,

      Fra euery part that flokkyng fast about,

      Baith with gude wil and thar moblis, but dout,

      Reddy to wend in quhat cost or cuntre

      That evir me list to cary thame our see.

      Wyth this the day starn, Lucifer the brycht,

      Abuf the top of Ida rays on hycht,

      Gydand the day hard at his bak followyng;

      The Grekis than we se in the mornyng

      Stand forto kepe the entreis of the portis:

      And thus, quhen na hope of reskew, at schort, is,

      My purpos I left, obeyand destanye,

      And careit my fader to Ida hyll on hie.

      THE PROLOUG OF THE THRYD BUKE

      Hornyt Lady, pail Cynthia, not brycht,

      Quhilk from thi broder borrowis al thi lycht,

      Rewlare of passage and ways mony one,

      Maistres of stremys, and glaidar of the nycht,

      Schipmen and pilgrymys hallowis thi mycht,

      Lemman to Pan, douchtir of Hyperion,

      That slepand kyssit the hyrd Endymyon;

      Thy strange wentis to write God grant me slycht,

      Twiching the thryd buke of Eneadon.

      The feirful stremys and costis wondyrfull

      Now most I write, althocht my wyt be dull,

      Wild aventuris, monstreis and quent effrays;

      Of onkowth dangeris this nixt buke hail is full:

      Nyce laborynth, quhar Mynotawr the bull

      Was kepte, had nevir sa feil cahuttis and ways;

      I dreid men clepe thame fablis now on days;

      Tharfor wald God I had thar erys to pull

      Mysknawis the creid, and threpis otheris forvayis.

      Incays thai bark, I compt it nevir a myte;

      Quha kan not hald thar peice ar fre to flyte;

      Chide quhil thar hedis ryfe, and hals worth hays:

      Weyn thai to murdrys me with thar dispyte?

      Or is it Virgill quham thame list bakbyte?

      His armour wald thai pers? quhar is the place?

      He dowtis na dynt of polax, sword, nor mace:

      Quhat wenys thou, frend, the craw be worthyn quhite,

      Suppos the holkis be all ourgrowyn thi face?

      Deym as ȝhe lest that kan not demyng weill;

      And, gentill curtas redaris, of gude ȝeill,

      I ȝow beseik to gevin aduertens;

      This text is full of storys euery deill,

      Realmys and landis, quharof I haue na feill

      Bot as I follow Virgill in sentens;

      Few knawis all thir costis sa far hens;

      To pike thame vp perchance ȝour eyn suld reill:

      Thus aucht thar nane blame me for smal offens.

      By strange channellis, fronteris, СКАЧАТЬ