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The fader almychty of the hevyn abuf,
In the meyn tyme, onto Iuno his lufe,
Quhilk tho down from a watry ȝallow clowd
Beheld the bargane therof na thing prowd,
Thus spak and said: “O my deir spouss, quhat now?
Quhat end salbe of this mater, or quhou?
Quhat restis finaly now at all lat se.
Thou wait thi self, and grantis thou wait, Enee
Is destinat onto the hevin to cum,
And fortobe clepit with all and sum
Amang the goddis a god indigites,
And by the fatis forto rest in pess,
Sesit abuf the starry skyis hie.
Quhat purposis or etlys thou now lat se,
Or into quhat beleif, or quhat entent,
Hyngis thou swa in the cald firmament?
Was it honest a godly dyvyn wight
With ony mortal strake to wond in fight?
Or ȝit ganand, the swerd lost and adew,
To rendir Turnus, lo, hys brand of new,
And strenth encresss to thame at venquist be?
For quhat avalit Iuturna, but thy supple?
Desist heirof, now at last, be the lest,
And condiscend to bow at our request;
Ne suffir not thy hyd sorrow, I pray,
Na langar the consume and waist away,
That I na mar sik wofull thochtis se
Schyne nor appeir in thy sweit face,” quod he,
“For now is cum the extreme lattir punct.
Thou mycht, quhil now, haue catchit at disiunct
The silly Troianys baith be sey and land;
And eik thou mycht alsso at thyne awin hand
A fell ontelabill batal rayss or weir,
Deform the howshald, and bryng all on steir
Be mony diuerss ways of fury rage,
And all with murnyng mixt thar mariage:
Bot I forbyd ȝou ony mar sic thing.”
Thus spak and carpis love, gret hevynnys kyng.
Saturnus dochtir, Iuno the goddess,
Ansuerit on this wyss, castand doun hir face:
“O Iupiter, deir lord, certis,” said sche,
“Becauss this thy gret will was knawyn to me,
On forss tharfor, and incontrar my mynd,
I left the erd and my frend Turnus kynd.
Ne, war not that, suld thou me se allon
Thus sittand in the ayr al wobegon,
Sustenand thus al maner of myscheif,
And euery stress, baith lesum and onleif;
Bot at I suld, gyrthit with flambis red,
Stowtly haue standyn in ȝon batale sted,
And suld haue drawyn ȝon Troianys, ane and all,
Into fell mortal bargane inimicall.
I grant, I dyd persuading owt of dreid
Iuturna to pass doun at sik neid
To hir brothir, and for his lyfe eik I
Approvis weill, and als dois ratify,
To vndertak mair than to hir pertenyt;
Bot I forsuith persuadit neuer, nor menyt,
That scho suld dartis cast, or takillis draw,
Nor with the bow mak debait ony thraw:
I swer tharto be the onplesand well
Of Stix, the flud and cheif fontan of hell,
Quhais only dreidfull superstitioun heir
The goddis kepis, that nane dar it forswer.
And now, forsuith, thy will obey sall I,
And giffis owr the causs perpetualy,
And heir I leif sik werys and debait,
The quhilk, certis, I now detest and hait.
Bot for the land of Latium or Itaill,
And for maieste of thine awin blude, sans faill,
A thing I the beseik, quhilk, weill I wait, is
Na wyss include in statutis of the fatis:
That is to knaw, quhen that, as weill mot be,
With happy wedlok and felicite
Ȝon pepillis twane sall knyt vp peax for ay,
Bynd confiderans baith coniunct in a lay,
That thou ne wald the ald inhabitantis
Byd change thar Latyn name nor natyve landis,
Ne charge thame nother tobe callit Troianys,
Nor ȝit be clepit Phrigianys nor Tewcranys,
Ne ȝit the Latyn pepill thar leid to change,
Nor turn thar clething in other habyt strange.
Lat it remane Latium, as it was air,
And lat the kyngis be namyt euermar
Pryncis and faderis of the stile Albane;
The lynage eik and gret ofspring Romane
Mot discend tharfra potent and mychty,
Vndir the virtuus titill of Italy.
Troy is doun bet—doun bet lat it remane,
With name and all, and neuer vpryss agane.”
Than gan to smyle Iupiter the gret kyng,
That is producear of men and euery thing:
“Syster german,” quod he, “to Iove art thou,
And secund child to Saturn ald; ha, quhou
Sa gret a storm or spait of felloun ire
Vndir thy breist thou rollis hait as fyre?
Bot wirk as I the byd, and do away
That wreth consauyt but ony causs, I pray.
I geif and grantis the thi desyre,” quod he,
“Of fre will, venquyst, referris me to the.
Thir ilk pepill clepit Ausonyanys,
On other wyss callit Italianys,
The auld vsans and leyd of thar cuntre
Sall bruke and ioys, and eik thar name salbe
As it is now, and as thar stile remanys:
Alanerly thar personys the Troianys
Sall entyr myddill and remane thame amang:
The fassonys and the ritis, that nocht ga wrang,
Of sacrifice to thame statute I sall,
And Latyn pepill of a tung mak thame all.
The kynd of men discend from thir Troianys,
Mydlit with kyn of the Italianys,
Thou sal behald in piete and gentilness
To go abufe baith men and goddis express;
Nor neuer clan or other nation by
Lyke thame sall hallow, ne ȝit sanctify
Thy wirschip, eik and honour, as thai sal do.”
Iuno annerdit, and gaue consent heirto,
Ful blith and ioyus of this grant, perfay,
Fra hir ald wraith hess writhit hir mynd away;
And in the meyn tyme onto the hevyn hir drew,
And left the clovd, and bad Turnus adew.
Thys beand done, as said is, on sik wyss,
This hie fader can with hym self devyss
Ane other craft, and providis the way
Quhou that he sal Iuturna dryfe away
From helpyng of hir brother intill armys.
Thar beyn twa vengeabill monstreis full of harmys,
Clepit to surname Dire, wikkit as fyre,
That is to say, the goddis wraik or ire,
Quhilk myschewoss and cruell sisteris twa,
Sammyn with the hellys fury Megera,
The Nycht thar moder, that barntyme miserabill,
Bair at a birth, for na thing profitabill;
And all elike wymplit and cled thir trakis
With eddris thrawin, and harys full of snakis,
And tharto ekit weyngis swift as wynd.
Thir wikkit schrewys reddy sal ȝe fynd
Befor the troyn of Iove, and eik also
Within the wanys of cruell Kyng Pluto.
Thai scharp the dreid to mortale wrachit wightis,
Quhen euer the kyng of goddis by his mychtis
The deth, or the contagius seikness seir,
Disponys hym to send in the erth heir,
Or quhen that hym list do smyte and affray
Citeis with weirfar, as deservit haue thai.
Iove ane of thir, full swipper to discend,
Furth of the hevin abuf onon hess send,
And bad hir hald doun baldly to the erd,
Forto resist Iuturnais ire and werd.
And scho onon doun flaw, to pless the lard,
And to the grund thuddis with hasty fard.
Nane other wyss than from the stryng doith fle
The swift arrow owt throw the ayr we se,
Or, into bittyr vennom wet, sum flane
Castyn or schot by sum archer Persayn,
By sum Persayn or man of Cydony
The schaft thrawyn, that quhyrris throu the sky,
And, quhar it hyttis, wyrkis a wond of pyne,
Oncurabill by the craft of medycyne,
And sa swiftly slydis throu the clowdis gray
That quhar it went nane may persave the way—
On sik maner the nyghtis douchtir onflocht
Throw the skyis doun to the erth sone socht;
And efter that scho saw the Troian ostis,
And Turnus rowtis arrayt on the costis,
Scho hir transformyt in lyknes of a fowle,
Quhilk we a litil howlet cleip, or owle,
That sum tyme into gravis, or stokkis of tre,
Or on the waist thak, or howss rufis hie,
Sittand by nycht syngis a sorowfull toyn
In the dyrk skowgis, with scrykis inoportoyn.
This vengeabill wraik, in sik form changit thus,
Evyn in the face and vissage of Turnus
Can fle and flaf, and maid hym forto grow,
Scho soundis so with mony hyss and how,
And in hys scheild can with hyr weyngis smyte.
A new dolfnes dissoluyt hys membris tyte;
For verray dreid and for gret horrour als
Vp stert hys hair, the voce stak in hys hals.
Bot as Iuturna soyn on far dyd heir
Of this fury the quhislyng and the beir,
The swouchyng of hir weyngis and hir flycht,
This woful sister hyr hair rent for that sycht,
With nalys ryvand reuthfully hir face,
And smytand with hir nevis hir breist, allace!
“Turnus, my best belovit brother,” quod sche,
“Quhat may thy sistir help now, wa is me!
Or quhat now restis to me, wrachit wight?
Thy life prolong quhou may I? Be quhat slycht
May I oppone me to resist or stryve
With sik a monstre? Na, nane wight alyve.
Now, now, I leif the feild, and goys away.
O ȝe myschewoss fowlis, I ȝou pray,
Do me na mair agryss trymland for feir;
The clappyng of ȝour weyngis I knaw and heir,
And eik the dedly sovndis weill onfar.
The provd command of myghty Iupiter,
That gydis al thing by hys maieste,
Dois me not now astart, for I it se.
Is this the ganȝeld that he rendris me
In recompens of my virginite?
Quharto eternal lyfe hess he me geif?
Quharto suld I on this wyss euer leif?
Quharto is me byreft the faculte
Of deth, and grantit immortalite?
For, gif I mortal war, now, now suythly,
Thir sa gret dolouris mycht I end inhy,
And with my reuthfull brother go withall
Amangis the dym schaddoys infernall.
O deir brother german, without the
Is na thing sweit nor plesand onto me.
O now quhat grund, land or erd tewch
Sal swelly me tharin half deip enewch,
And, thocht I beyn a goddess, doun me draw,
And send ontil infernal wightis law?”
Thus mekil said scho, and tharwith bad adew,
Hir hed valit with a haw claith or blew,
And murnand gretly thar as that scho stud,
This goddes dowkit deip vnder the flud.