The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Gawin Douglas

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      The nycht followys, and euery wery wight

      Throu owt the erth hath caucht, onon rycht,

      The sownd plesand sleip thame lykit best;

      Woddis and rageand seys war at rest:

      As the starnys thar myd cours rollys doun,

      All feildis still, but othir noys or sown,

      All beistis and byrdis of diuers cullouris seir,

      And quhatsumeuer in the braid lochis weir,

      Or, amang buskis harsk, leyndis vndir the spray,

      Throu nychtis sylence slepit quhar thai lay;

      Mesyng thar bissy thocht and curis smart,

      All irksum laubour forȝet and owt of hart.

      Bot the onrestles fey spreit dyd not so

      Of this onhappy Phenyssane Dydo;

      For neuer mair may scho sleip a wynk,

      Nor nychtis rest in eyn or breist lat synk:

      The hevy thochtis multipleis euer on ane:

      Strang luf begynnys to rage and rys agane

      And fellon stormys of ire gan hir to schaik

      Thus fynaly scho owt bradis, allaik!

      Rollyng alane seir thyngis in hir thocht:

      Ha! quhat do I? quod scho, all is for nocht.

      Sall I thus mokkit, and to hething dryve,

      My fyrst luffaris agane assay belyve?

      Or sal I lawly sum lord Numydane

      Pray and beseik of mariage now agane,

      Quhom I sa oft lychtlyit to spows or this?

      Na, wyll I not: quhat? sal I than, I wys,

      Follow the Troiane navy in strange landis.

      And reddely obey al thar commandis?

      I hope it sal profyte, na litill thyng,

      My gret help done thame and suppowellyng;

      For amang kynd folkis this is na dreid,

      Weil is remembrit the ald thankful deid.

      Bot thocht, in cace, to do this war my will,

      Quha wald me suffir my purpos to fulfyll,

      Or in thar prowd schippis me ressaue?

      Thus drevyn to hethyng, and al thi grace bywave,

      Tynt woman, allace! baris thou not ȝyt in mynd

      The maynsweryng of fals Laomedonis kynd?

      And maratour, quhat ettill I for to do?

      A Queyn alane to steil away thus, lo!

      Accumpanyit bot with mery maryneris?

      Or than with all my Tyrianys, as efferis,

      And all my power assemblit me about,

      On schipburd entyr with al that huge rowt

      Quhilk furth of Sydon scarsly draw I mycht,

      Sal I thame cach agane our seys lycht?

      Byd thame mak saill onon, and a new rays?

      Na, rather de, as thou deservyt has,

      And with a swerd mak of this duyl ane end.

      O systir germane, thou me fyrst taucht and kend,

      Allace the quhile! and offerit me to my fo;

      Thou with thir harmys ourchargit me alsso,

      Quhen I fell fyrst into this rage, quod sche,

      Bot so to do my teris constrenyt the.

      Was it not lefull, allace! but cumpany,

      To me but cryme in chawmyr alane to ly,

      Or led my lyfe lyke to thir beistis wild,

      And not beyn thus with thocht nor harmys fild?

      Allace! onkepit is the trew cunnand

      Hecht to Sycheus assys, my first husband.

      Syk gret complayntis from hir breist bryst kan.

      Bot Eneas, sovir to depart or than,

      And al hys neidful thyngis grathit, by and by,

      Heich in hys eft schyp sownd slepand kan ly;

      Quhamto in visioun the sam god dyd appeir,

      In syklyke figur as that he dyd eyr,

      Onto Mercuryus lyke, in al fasson,

      Baith cullour of vissage, and of vocis sown,

      In form of a ȝongker with membris fair,

      Plesand of cheir, and ȝallow glytterand hair.

      Hym thocht agane he monyst on this wys:

      Son of the goddes, quhou is this heir thou lyis?

      Quhat? may thou vndir sa gret danger sleip,

      And, al forvayit, takis nothir cuyr nor keyp

      For to behald quhat perrellys about the standis,

      Nor harknys the fair wynd blawys of landis?

      Scho quham thou knawys, within hir breist ful hait

      Sorowfull vengeans compasis and dissait,

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