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Ane huge clamour than dyd ryss on hycht,
That semyt smyte the goldyn starnys brycht.
The bargane walxis mair cruell and het
Quhar that the stowt Camylla was down bet,
For all the rowtis of the bald Troianys,
The Tyrrheyn dukis semlyt all at anys,
And eik Evandrus wardys of Arcadys,
Sammyn in the press thar aduersaris invadis.
Bot Opis tho, the nymphe, that weill neirby
Be thrynfald Dyane send was to espy,
Sat a lang space apon ane hillys hight,
And onabasyt dyd behald the fyght.
Syn tharefter onfar scho can espy,
Amyd quhar as thir ȝonkeris rasyt this scry,
With schaymfull deth ourtane, Camyll the maid;
Scho wepyt soir, and plenand thus scho said,
Sobband full deip law from hir breist within:
“Allace, virgyne, to mekill, and that is syn,
To mekill all owt, sa cruell punysyng
Hass thou sufferit, certis, for sik a thyng,
Becauss thou hest inforsyt with all thy mycht
Fortill ennoy the Troianys in this fight!
Quhat proffitis the in buskis thyne allane
To haue servyt so lang the blissyt Diane?
Or by thy syde, or than on schuldir hie,
So lang our quavyrris to haue born?” quod sche.
“And, netheless, but honour in this sted
Thy queyn hess not the left in poynt of ded;
Nor this thy slauchter but ramemberyng
Amang all pepill sall not be, nor menyng;
Ne salt thou not that schame suffir, trast me,
Forto betald thou suld onwrokyn be.
Quha evir with wond hess schent or violait
Thy fair body, to Dyane dedicate,
He sal repent the tyme that euer thou stervit,
And with his deth aby, as he hes servyt.”
Vnder the montane law thar stude fute hoit
A byng of erth, vphepit like a moyt,
Contenyng the cald assis and brynt banys
Of ald Dercennus, kyng of Lawrentanys,
Ourheld with akyn treis and bewys rank:
Thyddir this goddess, hastand dovn the bank,
Hyr self hess careyt, and thar huvys styll,
And from this knowys hycht, or lityll hyll,
Abydis this ilk Aruns till espy.
And fra scho hym persavys glydand by,
In rich armour schynand wonder brycht,
And all invayn, prowd, wantoun, gay and lycht:
“Quhy haldis thou awaywart so?” quod sche.
“Dress hyddermar thy futsteppis towart me;
Now cummys hyddir to peryss and to sterve,
And caucht dewly, as that thou hess deserve,
Thy reward for Camyllys ded, perde.
On Dyanys dartis, ha, suld syk ane de?”
And with that word, lyke a stowt wench of Trace,
The swyft gilt arow schuke owt of hir cace,
And, rycht amovit, hir hornyt bow hass bent,
Quharin onon the takill vp is stent;
Syne halys vp in ire and felloun haist,
Quhil that the bow and nokkis met almaist;
And now hir handis raxit hyt euery sted,
Hard on the left neyf was the scharp steill hed,
The stryng, vp pullit with the rycht hand in feir,
Went by hir pap almaste ontil hir eyr.
Aruns onon the motioun of the ayr
Sammyn with the quhislyng of the takill squar
Persavit hess, and eik the dynt atanys;
The dedly hed throu gyrd his body and banys.
Hys ferys all hess hym forȝet allane,
Quhar as he swelt with mony a wofull grane,
And in ane onkouth feld hess left hym ded,
Bedoif in dust and puldyr, will of red:
Syne Opys with hir weyngis swyft can fle
Abufe the skyis heich in the hevynnys hie.