Kitabı oku: «The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse», sayfa 12

CAP. X

 
Quhat sorow dreys queyn Dydo all the nycht,
And how Mercur bad Ene tak the flycht.
 

 
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,
And certanly determyt for to de,
In diuers stowris of ire brandysys sche:
Quhy wilt thou not fle spedely be nycht,
Quhen forto haist thou hes laser and mycht?
Thou salt, onon, behald the seys large
All ombeset with toppyt schyp and barge,
The feirful brandis and blesys of hait fyre,
Reddy to byrn thi schippys, lemand schyre,
And al the cost belyve of flambys scald,
Gyf, quhil to morow, tary in this land thow wald.
Haue done, speid hand, and mak na mair delay,
Variabill and changeand thyngis beyn wemen ay.
And sayand this, into the dyrk nyght
He gan hym hyde, and vanyst out of sycht.
Eneas, of this hasty visioun affrayit,
Gan start on fut, and fast his feris assayit:
A walk onon, get vp my men in hy,
Tyte to ȝour wardis, span aris bissely,
Schaik down the salys sone, and lat ws wend.
From the hie hevyn the god agane is send,
Lo! spurrand ws to haist and fle away,
And byddis smyte the twyne cabyll in tway.
O blissyt wyght! quhat god at evir thou be,
We sal obey thi charge, and follow the,
And thy command fulfyll agane blithly;
Besekyng the assist to ws frendly
Help and support, with prospir influens
The hevyn and starris dres our vayage hens.
And, with that word, hys scherand sword als tyte,
Hynt owt of scheith, the cabil in twa gan smyte.
The sam maner of haist caucht al the lave:
Thai hurl away, ankyrris vphynt and rave;
Left the costis desert on athir sydis;
The stabil sey vndir the schippis slydis;
The stour of fame vpwelt thai egyrly,
And swepis our the haw fludis in hy.
 

CAP. XI

 
Quhou queyn Dydo beheld Ene depart,
And quhat scho said with harmys at hir hart.
 

 
Be this Aurora, leifand the purpour bed
Of hir lord Titan, heth the erd ourspred
With new days licht: and quhen the queyn
The first grekyng of the day hes seyn,
And fra hir hie wyndoys gan espy,
With bent sail furth caryand, the navy;
The costis and the schor al desolate
Behaldis eik, but owthir schip or bate;
Hir fayr quhite breist, thar as scho dyd stand,
Feil tymys smate scho with hir awyn hand,
And, ryvand hir bricht haris petuusly,
Jupiter, quod scho, sal he depart, ha, fy!
And leful tyll a vavengeour stranger
Me and my realm betrump on this maner?
Sal not my menȝe to harnes ryn in hy
Our al the town, and follow bissely?
Speid, tak ȝon schippis, on burd fast to the raid,
Haist sone, and kast on thame fyre blesis braid,
Schute dartis thik, and qwel thame with ȝour glavys.
Quhat said I? or quhar am I? now thou ravys;
Quhat wodnes, fey Dydo, movis thi mynd?
Now art thou hyt with frawart werdis onkynd?
Sa til haue done than had bene mair ganand
Quhen thou hym gave the ceptour of thi land.
Ha! now behald hys gret prowes, quod sche,
Hys reuthful piete, and faith! is not ȝon he,
Quham, as thai say, the goddis of hys land
In hys navy careis our sey and sand?
Is not ȝon he, quhom on his schulderis, thai say,
For reuth his agit fader bair away?
Mycht I not caucht and rent in pecis his cors,
Syne swak the gobbettis in the sey by fors
Of hym and all hys fallowys? weill I mocht:
And eik ȝone sam Ascanyus mycht I nocht
Haue trynschit with a sword, and maid a meys
To his fader tharof to eyt at deys?
Forsuyth, in cace the aventur of bataill
Had beyn doutsum; wald God it war assaill!
Quham sall I dreid, now reddy for to de?
Wald God I mycht, in ȝon navy I se,
The hait fyre brandis set, and euery boyr
Fyll all with flambys red, and forthirmor
Baith fader and son, with hail generacioun,
That I had brynt, distroyit, and bryttynyt doun,
And thame abuf syne ded my self had laid!
O thou brycht son, that, with thi bemys glayd,
All erdly laubour clengis, circuland about;
And thou Juno, mediatrix, but dout,
Of al thir hevy thochtis, and weill thame knawis;
And thou Proserpyne, quhilk, by our gentile lawys,
Art rowpit hie, and ȝellyt lowd by nyght,
In forkyt ways, with mony mudy wight;
And ȝe infernale fureys, that wrekis al wrang;
And ȝe goddis eik, quham now amang
Dido standis reddy to cum in poynt to de;
Ressaue thir wordis quhilkis I sal say, quod sche,
Withdraw fra hyne ȝour gret mychtis, quharby
Schrewis awcht be punyst for thar cryme, and not I;
And thir our prayeris accept, we ȝou beseik.
Gyf it be necessar, and determyt eik,
Ȝon wikkit hed in portis of Itale
To entir and cum, or to thai boundis saill;
And gyf the fatis and Jove wil it be so,
And hes decreit he fynaly thyddir go;
Ȝit, at the lest, thar mot he be assail,
With hardy pepill ay trublyt in bataill;
By fors of armys expellyt hys boundis eik,
Far from Ascanyus help, constrenyt beseik
Ayd and supple; and als that he behald
Feil cayrfull corsys of hys folk ded and cald:
And quhen alsso hym self submyt hes he
Vndir payce and lawis of iniquite,
That he bruke nowthir realm, nor gude lyfe led,
Bot fal fey or his day, and sone be ded,
And ly onerdyt in myddis of the sandis.
Thys I beseik ȝou, hevand vp my handis:
This is my lattir word at I conclude,
Furthȝettand it togidder with my blude.
And forthirmor, O ȝe, my Tyrianys,
Quhilk now in Affrik at Cartage remanys,
Ȝone clan, with thar successioun and kynrayd,
Persew with haitrent perpetual, and invaid:
Onto my assys grant this a gift, quod sche.
Nevir luf nor payce betwix thir pepill be:
Of our levingis sum revengar mot spryng,
With fyre and sword to persew and doun thryng
The lauboreris discend from Dardanus.
Now fra thyne furth, all that succedis til ws,
Quhen euer thai may fynd tyme, with strenth and mycht
Batail to batail mot thai debait in fyght:
Thir costis mot be to tharis contrar ay,
And to thar stremys our seys frawart, I pray,
Thar ofspring eik amang thame self mot debate.
Thus said scho, and with that word, God wate,
Hir faynt spreit in al partis writhis sche,
Sekand the way, alssone as it mycht be,
Forto bereif hir self the irksum lyve.
Tho callys scho to hyr Barcen belyve,
Nurys vmquhile to Sychey hir husband;
For hir awyn nurys in hir native land
Was beryit in to assis broun or than.
Deir nurys, quod scho, fech my sister An;
Byd hir in haist with watir of a flude
Hir body strynkil; the bestis, and the blude,
And clengyng graith scho knawis, with hir bring:
Se on this wys scho cum, forȝet na thyng;
And thou thy self thine halffettis als array
With haly garland. My will is to assay,
And now perform the sacryfyce in hy,
That onto Pluto dewly begun haue I;
To mak end of my dolorus thochtis all,
And byrn ȝon Troiane statw in flamb funeral.
Thus said Dido; and the tother, with that,
Hychit on furth with slaw pays lyke a trat.
 

CAP. XII

 
Heir followis of the famus queyn Dydo
The fatale dynt of deth and mortale wo.
 

 
Bot now the hasty, egyr, and wild Dydo,
Into hyr cruell purpos enragyt so,
The bludy eyn rollyng in hir hed,
Wan and ful paill for feir of the neir ded,
With chekis freklyt, and al of tythirris bysprent,
Quakyng throu dreid, ruschit furth, or scho wald stent,
Onto the innar wardis of hyr place,
As wod woman clam on the byng, allace!
And furth scho drew the Troiane swerd, fute hait,
A wapyn was neuer wrocht for syk a nate.
And sone as sche beheld Eneas clething,
And eik the bed bekend, a quhile wepyng,
Stude musyng in hir mynd; and syne, but baid,
Fel in the bed, and thir last wordis faid:
O sweit habyte, and lykand bed, quod sche,
So lang as God lyst suffir and destane,
Ressaue my blude, and this sawle that on flocht is,
And me delyvir from thir hevy thochtis.
Thus lang I levyt haue, and now is spent
The term of lyfe that forton heth me lent;
For now my gret gost vndir erth mon go.
A richt fair cite haue I beild alsso:
Myne awyn wark and wallys behald haue I:
My spows wrokyn of my brothir ennemy,
Fra hym byreft hys tressour, and quyt hym weill.
Happy, allace! our happy, and ful of seyll,
Had I beyn, only gyf that neuer nane
At our cost had arryvit schip Troiane.
And sayand this, hir mouth fast thristis sche
Doun in the bed: Onwrokyn sal we de?
De ws behufis, scho said, and quhou; behald!
And gan the scharp sword to hir breist vphald;
Ȝa, thus, thus lykis ws starve and to depart:
And, with that word, rave hir self to the hart.
Now lat ȝon cruel Troiane swelly and se
This our fyre funerale from the deip see,
And of our deth turs with hym fra Cartage
Thys takyn of myscheif in hys vayage.
Quod scho: and, tharwith, gan hir seruandis behald
Hir fallyn and stekit on the irne cald;
The blude outbullyrand on the nakyt swerd;
Hir handis furthsprent. The clamour than and rerd
Went to the toppys of the large hallys;
The noys ran wild out our the cite wallis,
Smate all the town with lamentabill murnyng.
Of greting, gowlyng, and wyfly womentyng,
The ruffis dyd resound, bray, and rayr,
Quhil huge bewalyng al fordynnyt the air:
Nane other wys than thocht takyn and doun bet
War al Cartage, and with ennemys ourset,
Or than thar natyve cite, the town of Tyre;
And furyus flambe, kendillit and byrnand schyre,
Spredyng fra thak to thak, baith but and ben,
Als weil our templis as howsis of othir men.
Hir systir An, spreitles almaist for dreid,
Heirand sa feirful confluens thyddir speid,
With nalys ryvand reuthfully hir face,
And smytand with hir nevis hir breist, allace!
Fast ruschis throu the myddis of the rowt,
And on the throwand, with mony sprauch and schout,
Callys by name: Systir germane, quod scho,
Och! was this it thou fenȝeit the to do?
Hes thou attempyt me with syk dissait?
This byng of treys, thir altaris, and fyris hait,
Is this the thyng thai haue onto me dycht?
Quhat sall I first compleyn, now dissolate wight?
O deir systir, quhen thou was reddy to de,
Ha! quhy hes thou sa far dyspysyt me
As to reffus thi systir with the to wend?
Thou suld haue callyt me to the sammyn end;
That the ilk sorow, the sammyn swerd, both tway,
And the self hour, mycht haue tane hyne away.
Thys funeral fyre with thir handis biggyt I,
And with my voce dyd on our goddis heir cry,
To that effect as, cruel, tobe absent,
Thou beand thus sa duylfully heir schent!
Sistir, allace! with my counsell haue I
The, and my self, and pepill of Sydony,
The heris all, and eik thi fayr cite,
Distroyt and ondoyn for ay, quod sche.
Fech hiddir sone the well watir lew warm,
To wesch hir woundis, and hald hir in myne arm;
Syne with my mowth at I may sowk, and se
Gyf spreit of lyve left in hir body be.
This sayand, the hie byng ascendis onane,
And gan enbrays half ded hir systir germane,
Culȝeand in hir bosum, and murnand ay,
And with hir wympil wipyt the blude away.
And scho agane, Dydo, the dedly queyn,
Pressyt fortil vplift hir hevy eyn,
Bot tharof falys; for the grysly wound
Deip in hir breist gapis wyde and onsound.
Thrys scho hir self raxit vp to rys;
Thrys on hir elbok lenys; and als feill sys
Scho fallys bakwart in the bed agane:
With eyn rollyng, and twynkland vp ful fane,
Assays scho to spy the hevynys lyght;
Syne murmouris, quhen scho tharof gat a sycht.
Almychty Juno havand reuth, by this,
Of hir lang sorow and tarysum ded, I wys,
Hir mayd Irys from the hevyn hes send,
The throwand sawle to lowys, and mak ane end
Of al the juncturis and lethis of hir cors:
Becaus that, nothir of fatis throu the fors,
Nor ȝit by natural ded, peryschit sche,
Bot fey, in hasty furour emflambyt hie,
Befor hir day had hir self spilt;
Or that Proserpyne the ȝallow haris gilt
From hir fortop byreft, or dubbyt hir hed
Onto the Steygian hellis flude of ded.
Tharfor dewy Iris throu the hevyn
With hir safron weyngis flaw ful evin,
Drawand, quhar scho went, forgane the son cleir,
A thousand cullouris of diuers hewys seir;
And abufe Dydoys hed arest kan:
I am commandyt, said scho, and I man
Omdo this hayr, to Pluto consecrate,
And lowis thi sawle out of this mortale stait.
Thys sayand, with rycht hand hes scho hynt
The hair, and cuttis in twa, or that scho stynt;
And thar withall the naturale heyt outquent,
And, with a puft of aynd, the lyfe furthwent.
 

THE PROLOUG OF THE FYFT BUKE

 
Gladys the grond the tendir florist greyn,
Byrdys the bewys and thir schawys scheyn,
The wery huntar to fynd hys happy pray,
The falconeyr rych ryver onto fleyn;
The clerk reiosys hys bukis our to seyn,
The luffar to behald hys lady gay;
Ȝong folk thame schurtis with gam, solace, and play:
Quhat maist delytyth or lykis euery wight,
Tharto steris thar curage day and nycht.
 
 
Knychtis delytis to assay sterand stedys,
Wantoun gallandis to trayl in sumptuus wedis;
Ladeys desyris to behald and be seyn;
Quha wald be thrifty courtyouris says few credis:
Sum plesance takis in romans that he redis,
And sum hes lust to that wes nevir seyn:
Quhou mony hedis als feil consatis beyn;
Twa appetitis oneth accordis with othir;
This lykis the, perchance, and not thi brothir.
 
 
Plesance and joy richt hailsum and perfyte is;
So that the wys tharof in proverb wrytis,
A blith spreit makis greyn and floryst age.
Myne author eyk in Bucolykis endytis,
The ȝong enfant fyrst with lauchtir delytis
To knaw hys moder, quhen he is litil page:
Quha lauchis not, quod he, in thar barnage,
Genyus, the God, delytyth not thar tabill,
Nor Juno thame to kepe in bed is habill.
 
 
The hie wysdome and maist profound engyne
Of myne author Virgile, poete dyvyne,
To comprehend, makis me almaist forvay,
So crafty wrocht hys wark is, lyne by lyne.
Tharon aucht na man irk, compleyn, nor quhryne:
For quhy? he altyrris hys style sa mony way;
Now dreid, now stryfe, now lufe, now wo, now play,
Langeir in murnyng, now in melody,
To satyfy ilk wightis fantasy;
 
 
Lyke as he had of euery thyng a feill,
And the willys of euery wight dyd feill;
And tharto eyk so wysly writis he
Twiching the proffyte of the common weill,
Hys sawys beyn full of sentencis, euery deill,
Or morale doctryne, that men suld vycis fle:
Bot gyf he be nocht joyus now lat se;
For quha so lyst seyr glaidsum gemmys leyr,
Ful mony myrry abaytmentis followis heir.
 
 
Now harkis sportis, myrthis, and myrry plays,
Full gudly pastans on mony syndry ways,
Endyte by Virgil, and heir by me translate,
Quhilk William Caxton knew never al hys days:
For, as I sayd befor, that man forvays;
Hys febil proys beyn mank and mutulate;
Bot my propyne come from the pres fute hait,
Onforlatit, not jawyn fra tun to tun,
In fresch sapour new from the berry run.
 
 
Bachus of glaidnes, and funeral Proserpyne,
And Goddes of triumphe, clepyt Victorie,
Sal I ȝou call as ȝour name war dyvyne?
Na, na, it suffysyth of ȝou ful smal memorie:
I byd nothir of ȝour turmentis nor ȝour glorie;
Bot he quhilk may ws glaid perpetualy,
To bryng ws tyll hys blys on hym I cry.
 
 
Sen erdly plesour endis oft with sorow, we se,
As in this buke nane exemplys ȝe want,
Lord, our protectour to all trastis in the,
But quham na thing is worthy nor pyssant,
To ws thy grace and als gret mercy grant,
So forto wend by temporal blythnes
That our eternale joy be nocht the les!
 

THE FYFT BUKE OF ENEADOS

CAP. I

 
Ene fra Cartage salys, and quhon belyve
He with the tempest was in Sycill dryve.
 

 
In the meyn quhile tho gan Eneas hald
Sovirly hys cours throu the gray fludis cald,
Hys navy with north wynd scherand the seys:
Towart Cartage he gan behald, and seys
Be than the wallys lemand brycht and schyre
Of the onhappy Dydoys funeral fyre.
Quha had this gret fyre maid, and to quhat end,
Thai marvellyt, for the causys war onkend:
Bot by the sorofull takynyng, not the les,
The Troianys in thar breistis tuke a ges
Quharfor it was; for weil wyst Eneas
In violait lufe quhat strenth of dolour was,
And knew alsso quhat thyngis mycht be controvyt
By women in fury rage that strangly luffyt.
Bot fra the schippys held the deyp see,
That now na mair sycht of the land thai se,
Salve hevyn abufe, and fludis all about,
A watry clowd, blak and dyrk, but dout,
Gan our thar hedis tho appeir ful rycht,
And down a tempest sent als dyrk as nycht;
The streym wolx vgsum of the dym sky.
Palynurus, the maistir, gave a cry
From the eft castell heich, thar as he stude;
Quharfor, allace! samony clowdis onrude,
Quod he, bylappyt hes the hevynnys, lo?
Fader Neptune, quhat etlys thou to do?
This beyng said, commandis he euery feir
Do red thar takillis, and stand hard by thar geir,
And wightly als thar arys vp to haile:
Hymself infangis the le schete of the saill,
And eftir said; maist curageus Ene,
Althocht our helpar, gret Jove, wald hecht it me,
I traist not with this weddir to wyn Itale.
The wynd is contrar, brayand in our bak saill,
Hard in our berd vpblawand wondir fayr,
And al with bubbys ombesett is the ayr;
Nor we may nocht stryve nor infors sa fast
Agane the storm, bot stowtar is the blast:
And sen that forton masteris ws, tharfor
Lat ws follow tharon, and ryn befor,
Quhiddyr that the wyndis callys ws set saill.
Not far hens, as that I beleif, sans faill,
The frendful, brotherly, costis of Erycys,
And sovir portis of Sycil beyn, I wys,
Gif I remembir the methys of starnys weill.
Tho quod reuthful Eneas, so haue I seyll,
I saw langsyne the wyndis ettyll that way,
And the, invayn, agane thame stryve perfay:
Tyte turn ȝour salys and set thyddyr ȝour went;
Thar is na land mair lykand to myne entent,
Nor quhar me lyst sa weil, and profitabill
Our wery folkis to restyng and estabill,
Than in that cuntre quharin doith remane,
Ful deir to me, Acestes of blude Troiane,
And in his boundis, derrest outour the lave,
My faderis banys enbrasys, layd in grave.
This beand sayd, towart the port thai stevyn,
The followand wynd blew strek thar saill furth evyn:
Fast our the wallys slydis the navy,
And in schort quhile arryvit ar blythly
At the strandis and costis weil bekend.
Bot, on the hie top of a hyll ascend,
Acestes gan behald, and had gret wondir,
And to the cost, als fers as ony thundyr,
To meit hys frendis schippys dyd he speid,
A beyr skyn of Affryke aboue hys weyd,
Ful grym of luke, with dartis keyn and rude:
Hys moder Troiane of Crinosus the flude
Consavyt hym and bayr, as it is said.
Not forȝettyng hys ald kyn, blyth and glaid
Of thar return was he, and myrrely
Thame welcumand ressauyt by and by;
Gave thame of rural metis with glaid semlance,
And cherysyt thame with frendly purvyance.