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Abuf all this, lo, the ilk stound onon
Thyr messyngeris, all trist and wobegon,
Returnyt haymwart into thar maist neid
From the gret cite of Schir Dyomed,
Reportand answer, that alhaill was lost
Thar lang travale and maist sumptuus cost;
Schortly, thai had doyn thar na thyng at docht,
The rych gyftis nor gold avalyt nocht,
For all thar large requestis and prayeris;
To help the Latyn pepill in thar weris
Behuffyt thame to seik other supple,
Or to mak paix with Troiane prynce Ene.
Herand thir wordis, this ald Latyn kyng
Falys all curage, with gret lamentyng,
For patently the goddis wraik, hym thocht,
Schew that by fait Ene was thyddir brocht,
And manifest mycht of goddis hym dyd sustene,
That schew the new gravys befor thar eyn.
Quharfor, a gret consale assemlys he,
And callys the cheif ledaris of hys menȝe,
Chargeand thai suld in hys palyce conveyn
Onto the riall chymmyss. Tho bedeyn
Thai flok so fast that euery way was hyd.
Thys ancyent kyng dyd set hym dovn amyd
The cepturyt men, as first and pryncipall,
Bot no thyng semyng glaid of cheir at all.
Than the ambassat, that was returnyt agane
From Dyomedis cite Etholiane,
He bad do schaw the credens that thai brocht,
Per ordour haill thar answer, faland nocht.
Silens was maid, ilk man hys tong held than,
And Venulus, of thame the gretast man,
Begouth fortill obey the kyngis charge,
And schew hys credens planly thus at large:
“O citeȝanys, we haue visseit Diomed,
And seyn thai strenthys by thame of Arge in deid
Vpbeldyt in the boundis of Italy;
The ways thiddir we haue met by and by,
And eschapyt all dangeris by the gait,
All thocht our iourney was nocht fortunait.
We haue twichit that sammyn douchty hand
By quham of Troy distroyt was town and land;
Quhilk now as victor, in the feildis plane
Besyde the skyrtis of the mont Gargane,
Within boundis of Iapigya sulȝe,
That now on days Apulȝe clepyng we,
Vprasyt hess the cite Argyripas,
Quham fra hys natyve pepill namyt he was.
Fra that we entryt war in hys presens,
And forto speke was geif ws audiens,
The gyftis and rewardys present we;
Our credens, our estait, and our cuntre,
Declaryt plane, and quha with wer ws socht,
And quhat occasioun had ws thidder brocht.
He hard ws weill, and on a frendly wyss
Thus answer maid with wordis war and wyss:
‘O fortunat folk, quhar Saturn regnyt swa,
Ȝhe ancyent pepill of Ausonya,
Quhat mysaventour and onkyndly heyt
Ȝou steris from ȝour lang rest and quyet,
Prouocand ȝou to movyng, rayss and steir
Sa peralus, onknowth and onthrifty wer?
For euery ane of ws that dyd offens
In Troys bundis with swerd and violens,
Or cruell handis set fortill invaid
Kyng Priamus, and of hys realm degraid
(I leif ontald all thai that in the feld
By Troys wallys hess swelt vnder scheld,
Or that the flude of Symois by the town
Drownyt in stremys warpis vp and dovn),
Our all the warld of ws hail the remanys
Beyn punyst sor with onrehersabill panys,
And sufferit hess all maner of turment.
Ful weill knawis my wordis, quhat I ment,
The sorofull constillatioun of Mynerve,
Quhilk causyt mony douchty man to sterve;
And on the costis of Euboica
The rokis beris witness ȝit alssua,
And the montane Caphareus, God woit,
That vengeans tuke and wraik apon our floyt.
From that weirfar and cursyt chevalry
We cachyt ar to syndry costis, far by
Our natyve bundis and ald heritage.
Lo, Menelay, ane of the cheif barnage
And Atrius son, yclepyt Atrydes,
To Protheus pillaris, hait Pyramydes,
Constrenyt is in exill forto wend;
Vlixes alsso, as full weill is kend,
Bewavyt is wyd quhar our all the see,
So that the Ciclopes of Ethna saw he.
Quhat suld I tell of Neoptolemus,
That other wyss to name is hait Pyrrus,
The hard myschans and tynsell of hys ryng?
Or quhou aganys Idomens the kyng
Hys kyndly goddis and cuntre dyd rebell,
And hym gan of hys natyve realm expell?
Or quhou the Locrys, Aiax Oelyus ost,
Now doys inhabyt the waist Lybyan cost?
Sen he hym self the gret Agamenon,
The kyng of Myce, and cheif ledar of on
Of all the Grekis ostis in batale,
Ha, schame to say, fowlely befell
That by the handis of hys awyn wife
The first nycht in hys palyce lost hys lyf.
And he that venquyst Asya lyis ded;
The sle adultrar occupiis hys sted.
The goddis eik sa far dyd me invy,
That in my natyve land neuer sall I spy
My chaist spousage, lyke as befor hess bene,
Ne Calydon my realm of crymys cleyn.
And now alsso, a grisly thyng to se,
Ane selcouth monstre, lo, betyd hes me:
My ferys lost with plumys in the ayr
As thame best lykis ar fleand our alquhar
(Allace of my folkis the vengeabill wraik!),
Transformyt in fowlys, wandris by the laik,
And of thar lamentabill and wofull sowndis
The large costis dynnys and redoundis.
Thir myschevys for my trespass and cryme,
I may traist, hess betyd me sen that tyme
That I, witles and so rakless, perfay,
The hevynly bodeis durst with swerd assay,
And with smert wond was our presumptuus
To violat the rycht hand of Venus.
Solist na mar,’ quod he, ‘persuaid me nocht
That to so dangerus batellis I be brocht.
Eftir the bettyng down of Troys wallys,
With the Tewcranys, quhat chance that euer befallis,
I will na mair debatis mak nor weris;
Nor of our ald stryfe thir hynder ȝheris,
That so myschews was and bad to se,
May I glaidly remember now,’ said he.
‘Tha gyftis rych and mony fair presandis
Quhilkis ȝe to me hess brocht furth of ȝour landis,
Return and beir onto the prynce Ene.
Contrar hys keyn dartis ellis stand haue we,
And hand for hand matchit hym in fycht:
Beleif me as expert, quhou stowt and wight
Is he owther in batale place or feld,
And how sternly he rasys vp hys scheild,
Or with quhou gret a thud in the melle
Ane lance towartis hys aduersar thrawys he.
Forthir,’ he said, ‘I certify ȝou alssua,
That, gif the forsaid grond of Phrygia
Twa othir sik men fosterit had or bred,
The citeis all of Arge mycht sor haue dred,
And the ofspryng of Dardan esely
Mycht in our realmys arryvit by and by,
So that Grece suld haue murnyt, euery tovn,
The fatis ald reuersit vp syd dovn.
Alhail the stop, resistans and delay
Mayd at Troy wallys, quhil the sege thar lay,
Was by the handis of Hector and Ene:
The Grekis conquyst lang tyme, trastis me,
By thame was styntit, apon sik maner
That it prolongit was quhil the tent ȝer.
Athir of thame in bonte and curage
Excelland war, and full of vassalage;
Athir of thame maist souerane and douchty
In dedis of armys, prowes and chevalry;
Bot this Ene was first all owt express
Of reuth, compassioun and of gentilnes.
Tharfor all sammyn adionys ȝour rycht handis
In ferm allyance of concord, and sik bandis
Be ony wyss se ȝhe obtene,’ quod he;
‘For, gif thai start till armys in melle,
Be war with thame fortill debait, I red.’
Maist nobill kyng of kyngis, in this sted
Hys answer hess thou hard, as I haue tald,
And twichand this gret batale quhat he wald.”