The first five books of the Roman history translated from the Latin of Titus Livius by John Bellenden |
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 | The first five books of the Roman history |  |
iii
Here beginnis the Proloug apoun the Traductioun of Titus Livius, be Maister Johnne Ballantyne, Archden of Murray.
Armipotent Lady Bellona serene,
Goddes of wisdome, and jeoperdyis of were,
Sister of Mars, and ledare of his rene,
And of his batallis awfull messingere;
Thy werelike trumpett thounder in mine ere,
The horribill battellis, and the bludy harmes,
To write of Romanis, the nobil men of armes.
Goddes of wisdome, and jeoperdyis of were,
Sister of Mars, and ledare of his rene,
And of his batallis awfull messingere;
Thy werelike trumpett thounder in mine ere,
The horribill battellis, and the bludy harmes,
To write of Romanis, the nobil men of armes.
And bricht Appollo, with thy cours eterne,
That makis the frutis spring on every ground,
And with thy michty influence dois governe
The twinkland sternis about the mappamound;
Thy firy visage on my vers diffound,
And quikin the spretis of my dull ingine,
With rutiland bemes of thy low divine.
That makis the frutis spring on every ground,
And with thy michty influence dois governe
The twinkland sternis about the mappamound;
Thy firy visage on my vers diffound,
And quikin the spretis of my dull ingine,
With rutiland bemes of thy low divine.
iv
And ye, my Soverane, be line continewall,
Ay cum of kingis youre progenitouris,
And writis, in ornate stile poeticall,
Quik-flowand vers, of rethorik cullouris,
Sa freschlie springand in youre lusty flouris,
To the gret comfort of all trew Scottismen;
Be now my muse, and ledare of my pen.
Ay cum of kingis youre progenitouris,
And writis, in ornate stile poeticall,
Quik-flowand vers, of rethorik cullouris,
Sa freschlie springand in youre lusty flouris,
To the gret comfort of all trew Scottismen;
Be now my muse, and ledare of my pen.
That be youre helpe, and favoure gracius,
I may be abill, as ye commandit me,
To follow the prince of storie, Livius,
Quhais curious ressouns tonit ar so hie,
And every sens sa full of majeste,
That so he pass uther stories all,
As silver Diane dois the sternis small.
I may be abill, as ye commandit me,
To follow the prince of storie, Livius,
Quhais curious ressouns tonit ar so hie,
And every sens sa full of majeste,
That so he pass uther stories all,
As silver Diane dois the sternis small.
And schortlie for to tell I will assay,
How sobirly begouth the Romane blude;
Thare commoun weill augmentand day be day,
And mony yeris under kingis stude;
And syne how thay proude Terquine did exclude,
With tyrannye quhen he abone thame rang,
And all his linnage out of thare ciete dang.
How sobirly begouth the Romane blude;
Thare commoun weill augmentand day be day,
And mony yeris under kingis stude;
And syne how thay proude Terquine did exclude,
With tyrannye quhen he abone thame rang,
And all his linnage out of thare ciete dang.
And than how stoutlie Brutus was providit,
And gart the pepill with michty aithis swere,
Never with kingis eftir to be gidit,
Bot with two consullis, changit every yere.
And quhen maist troubill and perrell did appere,
How thay create ane prudent dictatoure,
Onlie sex monethis to be governoure.
And gart the pepill with michty aithis swere,
Never with kingis eftir to be gidit,
Bot with two consullis, changit every yere.
And quhen maist troubill and perrell did appere,
How thay create ane prudent dictatoure,
Onlie sex monethis to be governoure.
v
Followis, how Romanis to the Grekis went,
And brocht ten tabillis of thare constitutiounis;
And becaus the samin was nocht sufficient
Of every douttis to gif decisiounis,
With two uthir tablis thay made addiciounis.
Thir twelf tablis, as the story schawis,
War the first foundment of the civill lawis.
And brocht ten tabillis of thare constitutiounis;
And becaus the samin was nocht sufficient
Of every douttis to gif decisiounis,
With two uthir tablis thay made addiciounis.
Thir twelf tablis, as the story schawis,
War the first foundment of the civill lawis.
Apperis be sindry boundis of this storie,
That na thing in the hicht is permanent,
Nor in the samin may have tranquillite.
For as of Rome the empire and regiment
Fra Romane kingis unto consullis went;
Sa fra the consullis, be ane uncouth gise,
It come to ten men, on the samin wise.
That na thing in the hicht is permanent,
Nor in the samin may have tranquillite.
For as of Rome the empire and regiment
Fra Romane kingis unto consullis went;
Sa fra the consullis, be ane uncouth gise,
It come to ten men, on the samin wise.
Thir ten men, eftir thare creacioun,
Renowne and favoure of all the ciete gat;
And doand justice but appellacioun,
Thare cours about on every mater sat:
Quhil at the last thay war exterminat,
For siclike crimis as the kingis did.
Thus the empire agane to consullis yeid.
Renowne and favoure of all the ciete gat;
And doand justice but appellacioun,
Thare cours about on every mater sat:
Quhil at the last thay war exterminat,
For siclike crimis as the kingis did.
Thus the empire agane to consullis yeid.
Sa knichtly dedis, in bukis historiall,
Sall never be fundin quhil the warld induris;
Seand how fortoun rollis, as ane ball,
The liffe of man with sindry aventuris;
And how the state of mortall creaturis
Has nevir mare knawlage, as mine auctor beris,
Of suddand fall, than quhen it leist apperis.
Sall never be fundin quhil the warld induris;
Seand how fortoun rollis, as ane ball,
The liffe of man with sindry aventuris;
And how the state of mortall creaturis
Has nevir mare knawlage, as mine auctor beris,
Of suddand fall, than quhen it leist apperis.
vi
Quhat realmes and cieteis, for falt of justice, lost;
Quhat vailyeand campiounis, and dukis militare,
For falt of wisdome, bene tint, with all thare oist,
Mine auctor schewis; and sum time will declare
The dammage of divisioun populare,
Quhilk haistelie, quhare na concorde is socht,
The commoun weill resolvis into nocht.
Quhat vailyeand campiounis, and dukis militare,
For falt of wisdome, bene tint, with all thare oist,
Mine auctor schewis; and sum time will declare
The dammage of divisioun populare,
Quhilk haistelie, quhare na concorde is socht,
The commoun weill resolvis into nocht.
Be mony exemplis dois this storie preif,
Of tressoun, falsett, and rebellioun,
The finale end is nothing bot mischefe:
And as na wrangis nor injure war done
Amang the Romanis but punicioun,
Richt so ye may into thare storie rede,
Conding rewarde for every nobil dede.
Of tressoun, falsett, and rebellioun,
The finale end is nothing bot mischefe:
And as na wrangis nor injure war done
Amang the Romanis but punicioun,
Richt so ye may into thare storie rede,
Conding rewarde for every nobil dede.
Of awfull batallis, the crafty governance,
The wise array, the manlie jeoperdie,
Ye may find here, with mony doutsum chance,
Als quik as thay war led afore your ee.
Ye may also, be mony stories, see
Quhat besines may proffitt or avance
Youre princely state, with ferme continuance.
The wise array, the manlie jeoperdie,
Ye may find here, with mony doutsum chance,
Als quik as thay war led afore your ee.
Ye may also, be mony stories, see
Quhat besines may proffitt or avance
Youre princely state, with ferme continuance.
Considder of Romanis, in all thare time bywent,
Baith wikkit fortune and prosperiteis;
Nocht fell to thame, quhen thay war necligent
In divine service, bot trubil and distres;
And be the contrare, ye sall find expres,
Quhen thay relligious and devote war found,
All welth and grace, with honour, did habound.
Baith wikkit fortune and prosperiteis;
Nocht fell to thame, quhen thay war necligent
In divine service, bot trubil and distres;
And be the contrare, ye sall find expres,
Quhen thay relligious and devote war found,
All welth and grace, with honour, did habound.
vii
Ye may als se how goddis did invade
The Romane pepil with derth and pestilence,
Becaus thare sacrifice war nocht deulie made,
As aucht to be, with glore and reverence;
Syne how of goddis the cruell violence,
Be erdly wit couth never be pecifyit,
Quhil be sum meretis thare ire war satifyit.
The Romane pepil with derth and pestilence,
Becaus thare sacrifice war nocht deulie made,
As aucht to be, with glore and reverence;
Syne how of goddis the cruell violence,
Be erdly wit couth never be pecifyit,
Quhil be sum meretis thare ire war satifyit.
Throw quhilk apperis ane notable doctrine
To us that hes the trew relligioun,
To mak us fervent in the law divine,
And for offence to drede punicioun;
Sen sic vane faith and superstitioun
Preservit the pepill, quhen it was deuly servit,
Fra every vengeance that thare sin deservit.
To us that hes the trew relligioun,
To mak us fervent in the law divine,
And for offence to drede punicioun;
Sen sic vane faith and superstitioun
Preservit the pepill, quhen it was deuly servit,
Fra every vengeance that thare sin deservit.
To schaw all proffittis I wil nocht pretend,
Quhilk the first decade of this werk dois bere;
For thocht I spendit ane monetht to the end,
Thare suld yit rest ane largeare feild til ere,
Than all my pleuch micht teill into ane yere;
For in quhat sorte your Hienes will delite,
Ye may gett stories to youre appetite,
Quhilk the first decade of this werk dois bere;
For thocht I spendit ane monetht to the end,
Thare suld yit rest ane largeare feild til ere,
Than all my pleuch micht teill into ane yere;
For in quhat sorte your Hienes will delite,
Ye may gett stories to youre appetite,
Richt proffittabill till underminde youre fais,
And for to lere the arte of chevelrie;
Seand how Romanis, be thair vertew, rais
Abone all pepill in riches, honeste,
Relligioun, manhede, witt, and equite;
And, finalie, how thay all cuntreis wan
Be jeoperdeis abone ingine of man.
And for to lere the arte of chevelrie;
Seand how Romanis, be thair vertew, rais
Abone all pepill in riches, honeste,
Relligioun, manhede, witt, and equite;
And, finalie, how thay all cuntreis wan
Be jeoperdeis abone ingine of man.
viii
And war sa strang, that na thing micht doun cast
Thare soverane pouer, nor mak the samin decline,
War nocht thair rageit on thameself at last,
With civil batellis, and weris intestine:
Bot I wil na thing schew of thair rewine,
For that war nocht the way, I understand,
To dant the province quhilk I tuke on hand.
Thare soverane pouer, nor mak the samin decline,
War nocht thair rageit on thameself at last,
With civil batellis, and weris intestine:
Bot I wil na thing schew of thair rewine,
For that war nocht the way, I understand,
To dant the province quhilk I tuke on hand.
For I intend of this difficill werk
To mak ane end, or I my lauboure stint:
War nocht the passage and stremes ar sa stark,
Quhare I have salit full of crag and clint,
That ruddir and takillis of my schip ar tint;
And thus my schip, without ye mak supporte,
Wil peris lang or it cum to the porte.
To mak ane end, or I my lauboure stint:
War nocht the passage and stremes ar sa stark,
Quhare I have salit full of crag and clint,
That ruddir and takillis of my schip ar tint;
And thus my schip, without ye mak supporte,
Wil peris lang or it cum to the porte.
Here endis the Proloug.
| The first five books of the Roman history | |