University of Virginia Library

The awfull maid Camylla the ilk tyde,
With cace of arrowis tachit by hyr syde,
Amyd the slauchter and melle apon hyr foyn
Prowdly pransys lyke a wench Amaȝon,
That, forto hant the bargane or assay,
Hyr rycht pap had cut and brynt away.
And now the sowpill schaftis baldly sche
On ather sydis thik sparpellis and leit fle;
Now, not irkyt in batale stith to stand,
Ane stalwart ax scho hyntis in hir hand;
Apon hir schulder the giltyn bow Turcas,
With Dyanys arowys clatterand in hyr cayss.
And gif that so betyd into that fight
Hyr ferys gave the bak and tuke the flycht,
Into the chaiss oft wald scho turn agane,
And, fleand, with hir bow schuyt mony a flane.
Abowt hir went hir walit stalwart feris,
The maid Laryna and Tulla ȝong of ȝheris,
And Tarpeia, that stowtly turnys and swax
With the weil stelit and braid billit ax;
Italyanys born; quham the nobil Camylla
Had to hir lovyng and honour deput swa,
Tobeyn hir servandis in ganand tyme of paix,
And in batale to stand by hir in press.
Lyke as of Trace the wenchis Amaȝonys
Dyndillis the flude Thermodoon for the nonys,
As in thar payntit armour do thai fycht,
Owder abowt Hippolita the wight,
Or by the weirlyk maid Penthesile,
Rolland hir cart of weir to the melle;
The wemen rowtis baldly to the assay,
With felloun bruyt, gret revery and deray,
Furth haldis sammyn our the feldis sone,
With crukyt scheldis schapyn like the moyn.
O thou stern maid Camylla, quhat sal I say?
Quham first, quham last, thou smait to erth that day?
Or quhou feil corpsis in the batale sted
Thou laid to grond, ourthrew and put to ded?
With the formast, Ewmenyus, that was one
Son to Clysius; quhais braid breist bone
With a lang stalwart speir of the fyre tre
Throw smyttyn tyte and persyt sone hes sche;
He cavis owr, furthbokand stremys of blude,
And with his teith eik, schortly to conclude,
The bludy erd he bait; and, as he sweltis,
Apon hys wond oft writhis, tumlys and weltis.
Abuf this nixt scho ekis other two,
Lyris, and ane Pegasyus alsso,
Of quham the tane, that is to say, Lyris,
As that he fordward stowpand was, I wys,
To hynt hys horssis reyn that gan to fundir,
And the tother present, to kep hym vndir,
Furth straucht his febill arm to stynt his fall,
To grund togidder ruschit ane and all.
And to thir syne the son of Hyppotes,
Amastrus hait, ded scho adionyt in press;
And lenand fordwart on hir lance of tre,
Terreas and Harpalicus chasys sche,
Persewand eik full bustuusly onon
The bold Chromys, and strang Demophon:
Quhou feill dartis with hir hand kest this maid,
Alsmony Troianys ded to grund scho laid.
Ane Ornytus, ane huntar, far on raw,
In armour and in cognycens onknaw,
Raid on a curser of Apulȝe throu the feild;
Hys braid schuldris weill cled war and ourheld
With a ȝong bullis hyde newly of hynt;
Hys hed coverit, to salf hym fro the dynt,
Was with ane hydduus wolfis gapand iowis,
With chaftis braid, quhyte teith and bustuus powis.
To mak debait, he held intill his hand
A rural club or culmas in sted of brand;
And, quhar he went, amyd the rowtis on hie
Abuf thame all his hail hed men myght se.
Camylla hym at myscheif hess on set,
Scho bair hym throw, and to the grund dovn bet;
Nor na gret curage, forsuyth, was that, na mycht,
For all his rowt tofor had tane the flycht.
Bot forthir eik this forsaid Camylla,
With mynd onfrendly, can thir wordis sa:
“Thow Tyrrheyn fallow, quhat, wenyt thou tobe
In woddis chasand the wild deir?” quod sche.
“The day is cummyn that ȝour prowd wordis hait
A womanis wapyn sal resist and debait.
And, not the less, na litill renowne
From thens thou sal do turss away with the,
And to our faderis gostis blythly schaw
That with Camyllais glave thou art ourthraw.”
Incontinent this madyn eftir thys
Slew Orsilochus, and ane that hait Butys,
Twa biggast men of body and of banys
Of all the ost and fallowschip Troianys.
Bot this ilk Butys, standand hir befor,
Outthrou the nek dyd scho perss and bor,
Betwix the hawbrig and the helm inhy,
Quhar that his halss scho dyd nakyt aspy;
For our his left schulder hang his scheld.
Bot this Orsilochus fled hir in the feild,
And gan to trump with mony a turnyng went;
In circulis wyde scho drave hym our the bent,
With mony a curss and iowk, abowt, abowt;
Quhar euer he fled scho followis in and owt;
And at the last scho hess ourtak the man,
And throw hys armour all, and his harn pan,
Hir braid poll ax, rasyt so on hie,
With all hir forss and mycht syne strykis sche;
As he besocht for grace with gret request,
Scho dowblit on hir dyntis, and so hym prest,
With feil wondis his hed hass tort and rent;
Hys harnys hait our all his vissage went.
Than Awnus son, quhilk also Awnus hait,
On cace betyd approche in the debait
Towart this maid, and, alsone he hir saw,
Abasyt huvis still for dreid and aw:
Into the mont Appennynus dwelt he,
Amang Liguriane pepill of his cuntre;
And not, forsuyth, the lakest weriour,
Bot forsy man, and rycht stalwart in stour,
So lang as fatis sufferit hym in fycht
To excerss prettykis, iuperty or slycht.
This Awnus, fra that weil persavit he
Na way to fle nor eschew the melle
Nor mycht eschaip the queyn stude him agane,
Than he begouth assay hir with a trayn,
And with a sle dissait thus first he said:
“Quhat honour is till a stowt wench or maid
Fortill assur and trast in a strang horss?
Leif thy swyft steid, and traste in thyne awyn forss;
At nane avantage, quhen thou lyst to fle,
Lyght on this plane, and hand for hand with me
Address ws to debait on fut allone:
Thar sall thou se, thar sall thou knaw onon,
Quhamto this wyndy glor, voust, or avantis,
The honor or, with payn, the lovyng grantis.”
Thus said he, bot scho than als hait as fyre,
Aggrevit sor, inflambit in felloun ire,
Alycht, and to hir mait the horss betaucht;
At his desyre onon on fut vpstraucht,
With equale armour bodyn wondir lycht,
The drawyn suerd in hand that schane full brycht,
And onabasyt abaid hym in the feild,
Abylȝeit only bot with a quhite scheild.
The ȝong man, wenyng with his sle dissait
He had begilit hir be his consait,
Abowt his bridill turnyt but mar delay
And at the flycht sprent furth and brak away,
And feil syss leit the horss sydis feill
The scharp irne spurris prik apon his heill.
“O,” quod the maid, “thou fals Liguriane,
Our wanton in thy prowd mynd, all invayn;
O variant man, for nocht perfay,” quod sche,
“Hess thou assayt thy cuntre craftis sle!
Dissaitfull wight, forsuyth I to the say,
Thy slycht and wylis sal the nocht beir away,
Nor haylscarth hyne do turss the hame fra ws
Onto thy faderis howss, the fals Awnus.”
Thus said the wench onto this other syre,
And furth scho sprent as spark of gleid or fyre;
With spedy fut so swyftly rynnys sche,
By passyt the horssis renk, and furth can fle
Befor hym in the feild with gret disdeyn,
And claucht onon the curser by the reyn;
Syne set apon hym baldly, quhar scho stude,
And hir revengit of hir fays blude—
Als lychtly as the happy goishalk, we se,
From the hycht of a rokis pynnakill hie
With swyft weyngis persewis wonder sair
The silly dow heich vp into the ayr,
Quham finaly he clippis at the last,
And lowkyt in his punsys sarris fast,
Thristand his tallans sa throu hir entralis
Quhill at the blude abundantly furth ralys;
And, with hir beik deplumand, on al sydis
The lycht downys vp to the skyis glidis.