University of Virginia Library

Be this declynyt was the days lyght;
The moyn intill hyr waverand cart of nycht
Held rollyng throw the hewynnys myddil ward,
As Eneas, the Troiane prynce and lard,
For thochtis mycht na wyss hys membris rest,
Samony curys in hys mynd he kest,
Bot sat in proper person, and nane other,
To steir hys carvell and to rewle the ruther,
And forto gyde the salys takand tent.
Onone, amyd hys curss, thar as he went,
Recontyris hym hys falloschip in hy
Of nymphis, quham of schippys and his navy
The haly moder, clepyt Cybele,
Maid to becum goddessys in the see.
All sammyn swam thai, hand in hand yfeir,
And throw the wallys fast dyd sewch and scheir,
Als feill in numbyr nymphys throu the flude,
Als laitly with thar stelyt stevynnys stude
Of Troiane schippys by the costis syde.
A weil far way, as our the streme thai glyde,
Thar kyng thai knaw, and all in carralyng
About hys schyp went circulyt in a ryng,
Amangis quham, in speche the maist expert,
Cymodocea to the wail astart,
And with hir rycht hand can the eft casteill
Do gryp onon, that all hir bak ilk deill
Abuf the sey watir dyd appeir;
Beneth the calmyt stremys fair and cleir
With hir left hand craftely swymmys sche;
Syne on this wyss spekis till Enee,
That of this wonderus mervell knew na thing:
“Walkis thou or not, thou verray goddis ofspryng,
Our prynce and master Eneas? Now awaik,
Takill thy schippys, and thy schetis sclaik.
We beyn thy navy and thy flote,” quod sche,
“Bowyt sum tyme of fyr and bych tre,
Grew in the haly top of mont Ida,
And now, as present thou behald ws may,
Nymphes we beyn, and salbe euermor.
For, as ȝon faithles Turnus by the schor
Invadyt ws with glavys and with fyre,
On forss constrenyt for the flambys schire,
Thy cabillys we in sundyr brak in haist,
To seik the throw the sey, as we war chaist;
And than the moder of goddis, Cybele,
Havand of ws compassioun and piete,
In this figour hass ws all translait,
For euermar tobe deificat,
As goddessys, quhar so ws lykis best,
Amangis the fludis forto leif and lest.
Bot thy deir child, ȝyng Ascanyus stowt,
Besegyt is, and closyt rownd abowt
With wallys, fowcy and trynschis, ather syde,
Amyd dartis or quarrellys fast doys glyde,
And dreidfull hostis of stern pepill Latyne,
By weir enforsyng to distroy all thyne.
Evandrus horsmen, clepyt Arcadanys,
Mydlyt sammyn with Hetrurianys,
Quham in thy help thou sendis by the land,
Thai placis now, quhar as thou gaue command,
Can occupy, abydand thy cummyng:
Bot Turnus hess determyt, as certane thing,
Gret garnysonys to send betwix thame sone,
That ȝour hostis sall not togidder ioyn.
Get vp, haue done, and sone in the mornyng,
Alsswyth as the brycht day begynnys to spryng,
Thy ferys haill thou fyrst to harnes call,
And with thy scheild invynsibill tharwithall
Thy selvyn schrowd, quham mychty god of fyre
To the, as ane maist souerane lord and syre,
Hass wrocht and gevyn, and with gold sa brycht
The bordouris hass ourgylt and forgit at rycht.
Gyf thou belevys not my sawys invayn,
The lyght of day to morn, I schaw the playn,
Huge hepys sal behald in feld dung down
Of Rutilianys by fell occisioun.”
Thus said sche, and, departand with a skyp,
By hir rycht hand schowys furth the schyp
As scho that was in that craft rycht expert,
And throw the wallys on the tother part
Glydys away vndir the fomy seys,
Als swyft as ganȝe or feddyrrit arrow fleys,
That stryvys forto pyngill with the wynd:
The remanent hir followys fast behynd.
Anchises son, the gret Troiane Ene,
Awondris, onwyttyng quhat this mycht be,
And, netheless, hys curage dyd avance
With this ilk fatale augury or chance;
Syne schortly, lukand to the hevyn abone,
On this maner can pray and maid hys boyn:
“O blyssyt moder of the goddis,” quod he,
“That hallowyt art in the montane Ide,
Quhamto the toppys of mont Dyndymane,
And eik the towryt citeis mony ane,
With renyt lyonys ȝokkyt to the char,
Ful tendyr bene and hartly euermar;
Be thou in batall now my president,
Be my protectrix, dewly takand tent
At this orakyll be hastyt to our weill;
O haly goddess, with happy fute of seill
Cum and assistis to thyne awyn Troianys.”
No mor he spak, bot, with that word atanys,
In the meyn quhile vpspryngis the brycht day,
Chasand the clowdis of the nycht away.
And fyrst Eneas gan hys ferys command
Thar baneris to displayt and follow at hand,
Thar curage eik and curace to address,
And graith thame for the batail all express.
For he, be than, hys Troianys mycht behald,
And of the eft schyp into hys town and hald
Men mycht hym se and knaw, quhar at he stude,
Hys schynand new scheild from amyd the flud
Into hys left hand rasyt hie on hyght.
The Troianys from the wallys of that sycht
War sa reiosyt, vp thai rasyt a cry
That rerdis to the starnys in the sky.
The hoip of hys returnyng hait as fyre
Dowblyt thar curage, and vprasyt thar ire,
That with thar handis fast thai dartis slyng,
With sic a dyn of clamour and crying,
And trumpys blast rasyt within the town
Sik maner bruyt, as thocht men hard the sovn
Of crannys crowplyng, fleand in the ayr
With spedy fard in randoun heir and thar;
As from the flude of Trace, hait Strymone,
Vndre the dyrk clowdis, oft we se,
Thai fle the weddris blast and rak of wynd,
Thar glaidsum soundis followand thame behynd.
Bot quhat mycht meyn this affeir and deray
A gret farly and wondyr was, perfay,
To Turnus, kyng of Rutuleis, that tyde,
And the Italiane dukis hym besyde,
Quhill thai at last beheld towart the cost,
And saw the navy cum and mekill ost,
Semand the sey of schippys all ourflet.
The creist or schynand tymbret that was set
Abufe Eneas helm and top on hyght
Kest byrnand flambys with a glytterand lycht,
And eyk the goldyn boyss of hys bukleir
Large fyry stremys on breid schew fair and cleir—
Lyke as the comete stern sanguynolent,
With hys red cullour tryst and violent,
Schynys sum tyme apon the donk nycht;
Or frawart Syrius, that fervent star brycht,
Quhilk with the scaldand heyt at hys rysyng
Byrnys the erth of drowth, and is the syng
Pretendand tyll all mortale folk, I gess,
Contagyus infirmyteis and seiknes,
That with hys schrewyt lyght canicular
Infekkyt all the hevynnys and the ayr.
Bot Turnus hardy stalwart hie curage,
For all this feir, demynyst nevir a stage,
Quhilk manfully schup thame to withstand
At the cost syde, and dyng thame of the land,
That on na wyss thar thai suld arryve;
And with glaid semlant gan his folk belyve
Exortyng forto rayss thar spretis on hie,
And with hys wordis forthirmar eik he
Gan thame repreif of thar sa hasty feir.
“Lo! now present,” says he, “is cummyn heir
The mater quhilk ȝe lang desyrit haue;
The tyme is now to gryp in hand ȝour glaif;
The tyme of batale reddy is at hand,
Quhar strenth beis schawyn in stalwart stowr to stand.
Now euery man ramembir on his spowss,
Thynk on thar natyve land and dwellyng howss;
Reduce ȝe now onto ȝour mynd, ilkane
The worthy actis of ȝour eldris bygane,
Thar lovabyll fame, and ȝour awyn renowne;
And lat ws formest haist ws to the see,
And thar recontyr our fays, or thai land,
Quhill as thai first set fut apon the sand,
With slyde tocummyn, half deil in effray,
Or thai thar fut steppis ferm, and tak array.
Hap helpis hardy men, be myne avyss,
That weil dar tak on hand stowt interpryss.”
Thus said he, and tharwith in hys thocht
Devisys quham maist ganandly he mocht
Led with hym, to resist and meit his fays,
Or quham he suld not from the sege vprays,
Bot styll remane to ferm and closs the town,
The wallys and the trynschis enveroun.