Kitabı oku: «The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse», sayfa 15

CAP. XII

 
Of the fyre stoknyng, quhilk the navy derys,
And quhou in Sycill Ene hes left hys feris.
 

 
Ontyl Anchises graf and theatry
First brocht Ewmolus word, quhou the navy
Was al infyryt. Thai luke, and gan behald
The fyre sparkis fleand vp thyk fald
In a blak sop of reik: and fyrst Ascanyus,
As he on hors playt with hys ferys joyus,
Als swyft and fersly spurris hys steid fute hoyt,
And, but delay, socht to the trublyt flote.
Hys mastirys, half ded for affray and dreid,
Mycht nocht withhald hym: thyddir gan he speid;
And cryit, allace, O wrachit citesanys!
Quhat new wodnes be this that ȝou ourtane is?
Quhou now, quhou now? quhat meyn ȝe for to do?
Ȝour ennemys floyt, nor Grekis schippys, lo,
Ȝe byrn not, bot al hope of ȝour weil fair;
Se, this is I, ȝour awyn Ascanyus, ayr
Onto my fader: and, with that word, his helm
Befor thar feyt al voyd doun dyd he quhelm,
Quharwith in the derenys cled was he,
And countyrfait the maner of a melle.
Eneas than, and al the rowtis Troianys,
Fast as thai mycht, sped thame thiddir atanys.
Bot than the wemen al, for dreid and affray,
Fled heir and thair, endlang the cost away;
Socht to woddys and cavys in euery rolk,
Eschamyt with thar deid, knew thar awyn folk,
Thar myndis changit, fled the lycht for dispyte,
Al Junois rage smate from thar breistis quyte.
Bot not for this the flambys and byrnand bleys
Dyd stanch thar fors ondantyt, ne appeys:
The tuffyng kyndillys betwix the plankis wak,
Quharfra outthrawis the pykky smoke coil blak;
The hait fyre consumys fast the howe;
Our al the schip discendys the peralus lowe:
Thar was na strenth of vaillyant men to waill,
Nor large fludis on ȝet, that mycht avail.
Reuthful Ene than of hys schulderis tway
The claith hes rent, and gan the goddys pray,
Vp baith hys handis hevand in the sky:
Almychty Jove, quod he, aluterly
Gyf thou hes not al Troianys at haitrent,
Or gif thi reuthfull clemens takis tent,
As thou was wont, to mennys travel and pyne,
Now, haly fader, thi maieste inclyne;
Grant at our navy this fyre may eschaip,
And from distructioun delyvir and outscrape
Thir sobir trumpys, and meyn graith of Troianys:
Or, gif I haue deseruyt, with the remanys,
Smyte al togyddir ded with feirful thundir;
Lat thi rycht hand heir schaik ws al in sondir.
Scars this wes sayd, quhen that a blak tempest
Brays but delay, and al the lyft ourkest:
A huge weyt gan down powre and tumbill;
Hillys and valys trymlyt of thundir rummyll;
The drumly schour ȝet furth our al the ayr
Als blak as pyk, in bubbys heir and thar,
Fyllys the schippys, quhil thai flet our the walys;
Wrayngis half brynt bedyit in watir salys;
That al the fors of fyre was slokyt owt,
And from the perrell salf and out of dowt
Was al the navy, outtake four schippys lost.
And, quhil he rowmys vp and doun the cost,
The fader Eneas, smyte with this smart cace,
Now heir, now thar, gan huge thyngis compace;
Rollyng in mynd quhiddir he suld or nay
Remane in Sycill, or thens pas away,
Or gif he suld seik ȝyt to Italy,
Lyke as he had forȝet hys destany.
Thus as he musys, stad in sykkyn dowt,
Ane of the eldast herys stude abowt,
Clepyt Nawtes, quham the goddes Mynerve
Our al the layf instrukkyt hym to serve,
And rendryt had ful scharp and rype of wyt,
Syk answer gave, and plane declaris it;
Quhat pretendis this fellon goddes greif,
And eik, accordyng thar fatis, quhat was releif;
And, comfortand Eneas, thus gan say:
Son of the goddes, lat ws follow that way,
Bakwart or fordwart, quhyddir our fatis dryve;
Quhat evir betyde, this is na bute to stryve:
All chance of forton tholand ourcummyn is.
Heir is thi tendir frend Troiane, I wys,
Worthy Acestes, of dyvyne lynage;
Cal hym to the in counsale, wys and sage,
And weil willyng to thi purpos to apply.
Leif with hym all may nocht in thi navy
Be tursyt now, for lak of schippis lost;
Al syk as beyn ennoyt, and irk almost
Of thi gret purpos, thi dedis, and efferis;
And thai that beyn agyt passyt dait of ȝeris,
Or ald matronys wery of the see:
Wail out al thame beyn waik and onweilde,
Or ȝyt afferyt beyn in ilke affray;
Syk cummyrryt wightis suffir, I the say,
To haue ane hald and dwel heir in this land:
The cite salbe, as was first cunnand,
Acesta clepyt, eftir Acestes kyng.
With syk wordis, and prudent sermonyng
Of hys wys agit frend, than Eneas
On al sydis gan ithandly cumpas
Quhat was to do: and as the dirk nycht
Rollyt hys cart ourthourt the polys bricht,
Eftir that all was went to rest and pace,
The ymage of hys fader Anchises
Gan from the hevin appeir, and, but abaid,
Ontil Eneas heth thir wordis said:
O thou my child, derrer, so mot I thrive,
Quhil that I levit, than myne awin lyve;
O son, in Troiane fatis exercit sayrly;
Hiddir, at the command of Jove, cummyn am I,
Quhilk from thi navy stanchit the fyre, quod he,
And from hie hevin at last heth reuth on the.
Follow the counsale is maist ganand and heynd,
That agit Nautes gave the, thi trew frend;
And chose ȝong men of harte maste curagious
Turs in Itale with the. I tel the thus;
A dour pepill, and of conditioun fell,
The nedis in Latium ourcum in batell.
Bot first, of Pluto the infernale see,
And deip regioun of hell, behufis the se,
To cum and speke with me, myne awin son deir.
Be not agast, my child, and haue na feir:
For I am nocht withhald, I lat the wyt,
In Tartarus, the soroful hellys pyt,
Nor drery pottis deip of saulis paill;
Bot in the hailsum rowtis, furth of baill,
I dwel amyd the plane of Elyse.
The chaist virgyn Sibil wil convoy the
The rycht way thidder, quhilk at thou sal tak
By blude offerit of mony bestis blak.
Thar sal thou lern all thi genolegy,
And quhat cite is to the destany.
Adew; as now na langar dwell I may:
The donk nycht is almaist rollyt away,
And the fers Orient wil at I withdraw;
I feil the ayndyng of hys horssys blaw.
Thus hes he said; and with that word, but mair,
Vanyst away, as the reik in the ayr.
And quhen Eneas saw him pas, he said,
Quhidder bradis thou now sa fast, without abaid?
Quhidder hastis thou swa? quhom fleys thou? me, allace!
Quhat is the let I may the nocht enbrace?
Thus sayand, the assys and coverit fyre bet he;
To Troiane Ingil, and the cannos Veste,
Within hys secret closet maid reuerence,
With hallowyt flour, deuotely, and incence.
Syne sone assemlyt his feris all in pres,
Bot first of al the ancyant Acestes:
The wil and plesour of Jove schew thame cleir,
And eik the charge brocht by hys fader deir,
And tald thame planely his mynd and desyre.
Thai tary nocht at counsale; for this syre,
Acestes, was al reddy at command.
Than al tha folk, quhilk list bide in that land,
For this new cite titil thai and writis:
The matronys first, and sik as nocht delytis
Nor hes in cure desyre of hie renoun,
Thai deput, and thai ordand for this town.
Thar hechis and thar ourloftis syne thai beit,
Plankis and gestis gret, squair and meit,
Into thar schippis jonand with mony a dynt,
Insted of thame war with the flambys brynt;
Thar cabillis new, and thar hed towis reparis,
And gan to forge newly wrayngis and ayris:
In numbir war thai bot a few menȝe,
Bot thai war quyk and vailliant in melle.
In the meyn tyme, Eneas with a pleuch
The cite circulit, and merkit be a seuch;
By cavillys syne the tenementis dyd depart:
Heir ordanys Ilion, and, in ȝondir art,
Of Troy commandis beld othir memoriallis.
Of this new cite, and thir frendly wallis,
Glaid wolx Troiane Acestes, and, but mair,
Did mak proclame thar merkattis and thar fair;
And all the hedismen gadderis and set down,
Stabillis thar lawys and statutis for that town.
Syne, on the top of Erix the montane,
Full neir the lift, thai found, of marbill stane,
A tempil to Venus of Idalia;
And, about Anchisis sepultur alssua,
Ane hallowit schaw on breid, as sanctuar,
Plantit thai haue, and stabillit prestis thar.
 

CAP. XIII

 
Eneas gan depart, and quhou Venus
Maid for hir son request to Neptunus.
 

 
Be this has al the pepil, euery hyne,
The feste continewit fully days nyne,
And on the altaris, as was tho the gys,
Thar offerandis endit and hie sacrifice:
The stabil ayr has calmyt weill the see,
And sowtht pipand wyndis fair on hie
Challancis to pas on burd and tak the deip.
Bot quhen thai moste depart, lord, quhou thai weip!
Quhat huge waling rays all the costis bay!
Brasand and halsand thai dwel al nycht and day.
And now thai moderis, and thai onweldy men,
Quhom til, vmquhile, forto behald and ken
The seys figur was abhominabill,
And eyk the fors tharof intollerabill,
Now wald thai wend, for all the seys rage,
Reddy to thoill al travale in vayage:
Quhom curtas Eneas with wordis frendly
Comfortis, and syne, wepand full tendirly,
Betaucht ontil Acest his cousing deir.
Thre velys tho, as was the auld maneir,
In wirschip of Erix he bad down quell,
And a black ȝowe to God of tempestis fell:
Syne chargit hail thar cabillis vp belyve.
Hys awin hed warpit with a snod olyve,
Heich in a schippis forcastell dyd stand,
Haldand a cowpe of gold intil hys hand,
The bestis entralis in the see can swak,
And ȝet the cleir wyne furth in fludis brak.
From the eft schip vprays onone the wynd,
And followit fast the see fararis behynd;
Eyk al the flote smate fast with arys the flude,
Kempand to welt our wallys as thai war wode.
In the meyn sesson Venus, al onflocht,
Amyd hir breist reuoluand mony a thocht,
Spak to Neptune with sik petuus regrate:
Neptune, quod scho, the fel ire and consate
Of queyn Juno, with mynd insaciabill,
Constrenys me to condiscend thus stabill
In all maner of request and prayeris;
The quhilk Juno nowdir lang days nor ȝeris,
Nor na divyne sacrifice, may apples;
Scho restis nevir, nor may scho leif at eys,
Albeit the power and charge of Jupiter
Resistis scho wait, and fatis ar hir contrar.
Scho thinkis it nocht eneuch and sufficient
By wikkit malice to downbet and schent,
And for euer put to distructioun,
Master of the pepil of Frigia, Troys town,
And for tobe wrokin, be alkin panys,
Apon thar sary levingis and remanys:
Bot euer in ane ȝit stil persewis sche
The ded banys and cald assys to spulȝe
Of silly Troy, quhilk is to rewyne brocht.
A wondyr quhou scho may, intil hir thocht,
Of sa gret furour half the causys consaue.
Thi self is witnes quhou, laitly, our the laif,
Sa masterful storm amyd the Libiane see
Scho rasit sone, quhil vp to hevynnys hie
The fludis kachit war, and sair opprest,
Throu help of Eolus wyndis and tempest:
Sa gret wrang in thi realme durst scho excers.
O this detestabil wikkitnes to rehers!
Lo! hes scho nocht, newlingis, sa schamefully,
The Troiane matronys maid byrn thar navy,
By hir wod rage? and ar, for falt of schippis,
In onkouth land left from thar fallowschippis?
In tyme cummyng, I the beseik, quod sche,
Schaw thi mychtis, that salfly throu the see
It may be leifful thai thar salys set:
Grant at thai may alsso atteyn, but let,
The flude Tybir, throu Lawrent feildis slydis.
Admyt myne askin, gif so the fatis gydis,
Or gif that my desyre may grantit be,
Or ȝit werd sisteris list geif thame that cuntre.
Saturnus son Neptunus tho, I wys,
That of the deip see fludis dantar is,
Ansuerit and said: Citherea the fair,
It is resson, and ganand euermair,
Thou be assurit to rest at thi lyking
In my boundis, and throw out al my ryng,
Quharfra thou hes thi first original,
As thi kynd grund and cuntre natural.
In othir placis als, furth of my land,
I haue deseruit thankis at thi hand,
And oft tyme hes sa gret curage, thou knawis,
Dantit baith of see and bustuus wynd at blawis.
To witnes draw I of this at I say,
Exanth and Symois, Troiane fludis tway,
That I na les cuyr tuke of thine Ene,
To salue him on the land, than on the see.
For quhen the fers Achil persewit sair,
Chasand affrayt Troianys heir and thar,
The gret rowtis to the wallis thrymland,
Tofor his face half ded for feir trymland,
And mony thousandis on the grund layd ded,
The ryveris dittit with ded corpsys wolx rede,
Vndir bodeis bullyrrand; for sik multitude
Of slauchtir he maid, quhil Exanthus the flude
Mycht fynd na way to ryn onto the see:
Than, apon cace, with Achillis Ene
Matchit in fecht, nowdir of strenth or mycht
Equale be far, nor ȝit sa weil at rycht
Favorit of the goddis as Achillis, perfay,
By a dyrk clowd I staw thi son away:
Quhoubeit, the ilk tyme, my desyre was set
Law fra the grond al Troy forto down bet,
Tha maynsworn wallis biggit with my handis.
As twichand Ene, quhou evir the chance standis,
The sammyn wys ȝit perseueris my mynd:
Haue thou na dreid. I salbe ȝit als kynd.
Onto tha havynnys he sal cum sovirle,
As thou desyris, and furthir him eyk sal I
Ontil Avern, clepit the louch of hell.
Ane sal alanerly be loste, I the tell,
Quham thou sal seik, amang the fludis, dede;
For help of mony thar salbe gevin a hede.
Eftir that with sik wordis Neptunus
Had mesit the mude of the goddes Venus,
Tho kan this fader of the see, but mair,
Hys horssis ȝok to draw his cart or chair,
With fomy bridill danting the fers bestis;
Thar renȝeis and thetys, at thame arestis,
With hys awin handys leit do slyp and slakkis,
And lichtly our the fludis croppis frakkis
Hys watry chair, furth fleand with a sownd,
Quhil al the wallis dowkis to the grownd;
Vndir the brayand quhelis and assiltre
The fludis strekis plane our al the see:
The bubbis and wyndy clowdis, heir and thar,
Gan fle onon furth of the large ayr.
Than of his court apperit figuris seir;
The hydduus quhalys, and al the rowtis in feir
Of agit Glaucus with his cannos hair,
And Palemon, Inoes son and ayr;
The swift Tritones, with trump playand thar spryng;
Phorcus, with al his falloschip and ofspryng:
And on hys left hand furth haldis Thetis,
With al the Nymphis hait Nereidis,
Sik as Melite, Spyo, Penopea,
Cymodoce, Nyse, and Thalia.
 

CAP. XIV

 
Throu owt the flude merely salys Ene,
And Palynurus drownys in the see.
 

 
Glaidnes and comfort than, in to sum part,
Begouth to kittill Eneas thochtful hart.
Heys heich the cros, he bad, al mak thaim bown,
And fessyn bonnettis beneith the mayn sail down.
Than al sammyn, with handis, feit, and kneis,
Dyd heys thar sail, and trossyt down thar teys:
Now the le schete, and now the luf, thai slak,
Set in a fang, and threw the ra abak;
Baith to and fra al dyd thar nokkis wry:
Prosper blastis furth careis the navy.
Befor the laif, as lodis man and lard,
And al his salis vp with fellon fard,
Went Palynure; and hail the remanent
Was chargit hald the sammyn cours and went.
Be than, the donk nycht had run almaist evin
His myd cours or methis in the hevin,
And euery maryner, but langar kepe,
Thar bodeis restis with the plesand sleip,
Endlang the hechis lyand heir and thar is,
Or in thar hard settis lenand on ayris:
Quhen that the swift God of sleip gan slide
Furth of the starnyt hevin, by nychtis tide,
And dyd away the dirknes of the ayr,
Removing schadowit skyis maid al fair;
Onto the, Palynurus, hes he socht,
And the, al innocent, soroful slepis brocht.
Heich in the eftschip dyd this God appeir,
In figur of Phorbantus, a maryneir,
And frendfully gan warp sik wordis owt:
Jasyus son, Palynur, luke about;
The sobir seys beris sownd our navy;
The wyndis blawis ful evin and rycht makly:
Thou may sovirly tak the ane howris rest,
Leyn doun thi hede, and sleip, for that is best
Thy wery eyn thou prevely withdraw
From langsum laubour, and sleip a litil thraw;
And I my self sal glaidly, in thi place,
Beir thyne office, and steir a litil space.
To quhom Palynur, skars liftand his eyn,
Ansuerd and said; quhat thing wald thou meyn?
Byddis thou me be sa nyce I suld mysknaw
This calm salt watir, or stabil fludis haw?
Wilt thou I traste this monstre perellus?
Or quhat in wyndis sa dissaitful til ws,
And this cleir hevin sa oft hes trumpit me,
Wald thou I lippynnyt the maist nobil Ene?
Sik wordis he said, grippand the helmstok fast,
Lenand tharon, and by na way nor cast
Wald part tharfra, haldand his eyn ful evin
Ay to behald the starnys in the hevyn.
Quhen lo! this God smate bath his tymplis twane
With a ful sleipry and bedyit grane,
Wet in the myndles flude of hell, Lythe,
And sowpit in Stix, the forcy hellys see:
Hys glotnyt and fordovirrit eyn two
He closyt hes, and sound gart sleip alsso.
Bot scarsly gan the first rest of sleip,
Or he was war, thus on his membris creip,
Quhen on him lenys this God, and tho he kneld,
And with a swak, as that the schip gan helde,
Ourburd him kest amyd the flowand see,
Richt al togidder with the helmstok of tre:
Than al for nocht apon his feris he cryis.
This God flaw vp lyke a bird in the skyis.
And nocht the les the schip held furth hir went,
As scho did ayr, throw the calm seys sprent,
But ony harm, and al the navy sone,
By the promys of the fader Neptune.
With this almaste thai careit ar infeir
Onto the rochis and skelleis weill neir
Of Syrene, that we Marmadynnys clepe;
Dangerus vmquhile, for a mekil hepe
Of dede banys lay tharon ful quhite;
So gan the salt jawpis ythandly smyte
The holl rolkis, maid a sownd ful hays.
Quhen Prince Ene persauyt, by his rays,
Quhou that the schip dyd rok and tailȝeve,
For lak of a gud sterisman on the see,
Him self hes than sone hynt the rudyr in hand,
And throu the fludis steris the schip to land,
Bewaland gretly in his mynde pensyfe,
For that his frend was fal, and lost the lyfe.
Allace! our mekil thou lippynnyt hes, quod he,
Into the stabillit hevin and calmyt see:
Bair and onerdit, in ane onkouth land,
Palynurus, sal thou ly on the sand.
Thus wepand said, and leyt his flote go large,
Quhill at the last, baith ballyngar and barge
Apon the cost, that hait Ewboica,
Arryvit neir the cite of Cuma.
Than to the streme thai turnyt thar forschip;
Kest down thar bewchit ankyrris, ferm of grip,
Into the raid; endlang the costis bay
Thar eft castellis gan mustyr in array.
And al the ȝongkeris spedis hastely
Onto the schore of Hisperia fast by:
Sum smytis fyre furth of the hard flynt stane;
Sum spedely to the thik wod ar gane,
In dern dennys, quharin wild bestis dwellis;
And sum dyd schaw the new fund springand wellis:
To beit thar mystir al bissy for the nanys,
Sum to this turn, sum to that, start atanys.
 

THE PROLOUG OF THE SAXT BUKE

 
Pluto, thou patron of the deip Achiron,
Fader of tormentis in thyne infernal see,
Amyd the fludis, Stix and Flagiton,
Lethie, Cochite, the watyris of oblivie,
With dolorus quhirling of furyus sistyris thre,
Thyne now salbe my muse and drery sang:
To follow Virgil in this dyrk poyse
Convoy me, Sibil, that I ga nocht wrang.
 
 
Quhat wenys fulys this saxt buke be bot japis,
Al ful of leys or ald ydolatryis?
O hald ȝour pace, ȝe verray goddis apis!
Reid, reid agane, this volume, mair than twys:
Consider quhat hyd sentence tharin lyis:
Be war to lak, les than ȝe knew weil quhat;
And gif ȝou list not wirk eftir the wis,
Heich on ȝour hede set vp the foly hat.
 
 
All is bot gaistis and elrich fantasyis,
Of browneis and of bogillis ful this buke:
Owt on thir wandrand speritis, wow! thou cryis;
It semys a man war mangit, tharon list luke,
Lyke dremys or dotage in the monys cruke,
Vayn superstitionys aganyst our richt beleve:
Quhat of thir fureis, or Pluto that plukkit duke,
Or cal on Sibil, deir of a revyn sleif?
 
 
Wald thou I suld this buke to the declare,
Quhilk war impossibil til expreme at schort?
Virgil is ful of sentence our all quhare;
Bot heirintil, as Seruius gan proport,
Hys hie knawlage he schawis, that euery sort
Of his clausys comprehend sik sentence,
Thar bene tharof, set thou think this bot sport,
Maid gret ragmentis of hie intelligence.
 
 
In all his warkis Virgil doith discrive
The stait of man, gif thou list vnderstand;
Baith life and ded in thir fyrst bukis fyve;
And now, intil this saxt, we haue on hand,
Eftir thar deth, in quhat plyte saulis sal stand.
He writis lyke a philosophour naturall:
Twichand our faith mony clausis he fand
Quhilk beyn conform, or than collaterall.
 
 
Schawis he nocht heir the synnys capital?
Schawis he nocht wikkit folk in endles pane?
And purgatory for synnys venyall,
And vertuus pepil into the plesand plane?
Ar al sik sawis fantasy and invane?
He schawis the way, evir patent, down to hell,
And rycht difficil the gait to hevin agane,
With ma gude wordis than thou or I kan tell.
 
 
Heir tretand vertu, taxis he pane for vyce,
Feil woful turmentis of wrachit catyvis sary,
Notabil histories, and diuers proverbis wyce,
Quhilkis to rehers war our prolixt a tary:
Althocht he, as a gentile, sum tyme vary,
Ful perfitely he writis seir misteris fell,
As quhou thir heithin childir thar werdis wary,
Wepand and waland at the first port of hell.
 
 
And, thocht our faith neid nane authorising
Of gentiles bukis, nor by sik heithin sparkis,
ȝit Virgil writis mony just claus conding,
Strenthing our beleve, to confound payan warkis.
Quhou oft rehersis Austyne, cheif of clarkis,
In his gret volume of the cite of God,
Hundreth versis of Virgil, quhilk he markis
Agane Romanys, til vertu thame to brod!
 
 
And of this saxt buke walis he mony a scor,
Not but gude resson; for, thocht Criste grund our faith,
Virgil sawis ar worth to put in stor.
Thay aucht not be hald vagabund nor waith,
Ful riche tresour thai bene and precius graith:
For oft by Sibilys sawis he tonys his stevyn;
Thus faithfully in his Bucolykis he saith,
The maide cummyth bringis new lynnage fra hevyn.
 
 
As twiching hym writis Ascentyus;
Feil of his wordis bene like the appostilis sawis,
He is ane hie theolog sentencyus,
And maste profound philosophour he him schawis,
Thocht sum his writis frawart our faith part drawis:
Na wondir; he was na cristyn man, per De,
He was a gentile, and levit on payane lawis,
And ȝit he puttis a God Fader maste hie.
 
 
We trow a God, regnand in personys thre,
And ȝit angellis hevinly spiretis we call;
And of the hevinly wightis oft carpis he,
Thocht he belevit thai war not angellis all.
Quhil Cristis passioun, of Adam from the fall,
All went to hell, thocht all war nocht in pane:
Or Criste he wrait this buke, quhar reid ȝe sall
Destinit in hell specialy placis twane.
 
 
And principaly the sted of fell tormentis,
With seyr departingis in that laithly hald;
Ane other place quhilk purgator representis,
And, dar I say, the Lymbe of faderis ald,
With Lymbus puerorum, as I haue tald.
Schawis he not eik, by werkis meritory,
Quhou just pepil, in welthis monyfald,
Raiosys, syngand sangis of hevinly glory?
 
 
And, as he twichis greys seyr in payn,
In blys, elike wys, syndry slagis puttis he.
Quhat sal I of his wondir warkis sayn?
For al the plesance of the camp Elyse,
Octauian, in his Georgikis, ȝe may se:
He consalis nevir lordschip in hell desyre,
Bot evir in hevin, intil sum hie degre,
To cheys his place, and not amang the fyre.
 
 
Quhat cristyn clerk kouth hym haue consalit bettir?
Al thocht he was neuer catholyk wight,
He hes writtin ful mony attentik lettir.
In that ilk buke he techis ws ful richt,
The warld begouth in veyr, baith day and nycht;
In veir he says that God als formyt man,
The son, the mone, and all the starnys bright:
We grant in veir that first the warld began.
 
 
Happy war he knew the caus of al thingis,
And settis on syde all dreid and cuyr, quod he,
Vndir his feyt at treddis, and down thryngis,
Chancis ontretabill of fatis and destane,
All feir of ded, and eik of hellis see;
Happy he callys sik wightis, and sa do I:
Quhar may we swa optene felicite?
Neuer bot in hevin empire abone the sky.
 
 
Tyll write you all hys tryit and notabil vers
Almaist impossibil war, and half invane,
For me behuffyt repeting and rehers
In seir placis the sammyn wordis agane.
This may suffice, I wil no mor sane:
Ane movar, ane begynnar puttis he,
Sustenys all thing, and doyth in all remane;
And, be our faith, the sammyn thing grant we.
 
 
I say nocht all hys warkis beyn perfyte,
Nor that sawlys turnys in othir bodeys agane;
Thocht we traste, and may preif be haly write,
Our sawle and body sal anys togiddir remane.
At thar bene mony Goddis I will not sane,
Thocht haly scriptur just men, Goddis, clepe.
Quhom call I Pluto, and Sibilla Cumane,
Hark; for I wil na fals Goddis wirschepe.
 
 
Sibilla, til interpret propirly,
Is clepit a maid of Goddis secret preve,
That hes the spiret divyne of prophecy.
Quha bettir may Sibilla callit be
Than may the gloryus moder and madyn fre,
Quhilk of hir natur consavit Criste, and buyr
All hail the mysteris of the Trinite,
And maist excellent wark had vnder cure.
 
 
Thou art our Sibill, Cristis moder deir,
Prechit by prophetis and Sibilla Cumane;
Thou brocht the hevynly lynage in erd heir,
Moder of God, ay virgyne doith remane,
Restoring ws the goldin warld agane.
Sathan the clepe I, Pluto infernall,
Prynce in that dolorus den of wo and pane,
Nocht God tharof, bot gretast wrech of all.
 
 
To name the God, that war a manifest le;
Is bot a God, maker of euery thing:
I fauour nocht the errour of Manache.
Set thou to Wlcane haue ful gret resembling,
And art sum tyme the minister of thundring,
Or sum blynd Ciclopes of thy laithly wra,
Thou art bot Jovys smytht, in the fyre blawing,
And dyrk fornace of perpetuall Ethna.
 
 
Thou wrocht na thyng, bot maid thi self a devill,
And that was not to mak, bot rather failȝe:
For Austyn says, syn, myscheif, or evill,
Is nocht at all: for quhy? thai nocht availȝe.
The dym dongeoun of Ditis till assailȝe,
Or in the lyknes this mysty poetry,
Help me, Mare; for certis, vail que vailȝe,
War at Pluto, I sal hym hunt of sty.