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“Furth on, with this, throu owt the sey we slyde,
By the forland Cerawnya fast beside,
Quhar fra, out our the fludis forto saill,
The schortast way and courss lyis to Itaill.
Down gois the son be than, and hillis hie
Wolx dyrknyt with schaddowis of the sky;
We sort our aris, and chesis rowaris ilke deill,
And at a sownd or cost we likit weill
We strike at nycht, and on the dry strandis
Dyd bawne and beyk our bodeys, feyt and handis.
Sone on our irkyt lymmys, lethis and banys
The naturale rest of sleip slaid al atanys,
And, or the speyre his howris rollit richt
Sa far about that it was scars mydnycht,
Not sweir, bot in hys dedis deligent,
Palynurus furth of his cowch vpsprent,
Lysnyng about, and harknyng our alquhar
With erys prest to kep the wynd or ayr.
Of euery starn the twynklyng notis he
That in the still hevyn move courss we se,
Arthuris Huyf, and Hyades betakynnand rayn,
Syne Watlyng Streit, the Horn and the Charle Wayn,
The fers Orion with hys goldyn glave,
And quhen he hes thame eueryane persaue
Into the cleir and serene firmament,
Furth of his eft schip a bekyn gart he stent:
We rayss and went on burd in our the waill,
Syne slakis down the schetis and maid sayll.
Be this the dawyng gan at morn walx red
And chasit away the starnys fra euery sted;
The dym hillis on far we dyd aspy,
And saw the law landis of Italy.
‘Italy! Italy!’ fyrst cryis Achates,
Syne al our feris of clamour mycht nocht cess,
Bot with a voce atanys cryis, ‘Itaill!’
And hailsyng gan the land with hey and haill.
Than my fader, ammyral of our flote,
A mekil tankart with wyne fild to the throte,
And tharon set a garland or a crown,
And to the goddis maid this orysoun,
Sittand in the hie eft castell of our schip,
With ful devote reverens and wirschip:
‘O ȝe’ quod he, ‘goddis haldis in pouste
Weddir and stormys, the land eik and the se,
Grant our vayage ane esy and reddy wynd,
Inspyre ȝour favouris that prospir courss we fynd.’
Scars this wes said quhen, evyn at our desyre,
The sessonabil ayr pipis vp fair and schyre;
The havyn apperis, and thiddir nerrar we draw,
And of Mynerva the strang tempill saw
Set in the castell apon ane hillis hycht.
Our fallowis fangis in thar salys tyght,
And towart the cost thar stevynnys dyd address.
A port thar is, quham the est fludis hess,
In maner of a bow, maid bowle or bay,
With rochys set forgane the streym ful stay,
To brek the salt fame of the seys stour.
On athir hand, als hie as ony towr,
The byg hewis strekis furth lyke a wall;
Within the hawyn goith lown, but wynd or wall,
And at the port the tempill may not be seyn.
Heir fyrst I saw apon the plesand greyn
A fatale takyn, fowr horssis quhite as snaw
Gnyppand gresys the large feildis on raw.
‘Ha! lugyn land, batale thou ws pretendis,’
Quod my fader Anchiss, ‘for as weil kend is,
Horssis ar dressit for the bargane feil syss;
Weir and debait thir stedis signyfyiss.
Bot, sen the sammyn four futtit bestis eik
Beyn oft vsyt, ful towartly and meik,
To draw the cart and thoil brydill and renȝe,
It is gude hope pace follow sal,’ says he.
Than wirschip we the godhed and gret mycht
Of Pallas, with clattering harnes ferss in fyght,
Quhilk heth ws first ressauyt glaid and gay:
Our hedis befor the altar we array
With valys brown, eftir the Troiane gyss,
And onto Iuno of Arge our sacryfyss
Maid reuerently, as Helenus vss bad,
Obseruyng weil, as he commandyt had,
The serymonys leill. Syne, but langar delay,
Fra that perfurnyst was our offerand day,
Onon the nokkis of our rays we writh;
Down fallys the schetis of the salys swith;
The Gregionys herbry and fronteris suspek
We left behynd, and efter, in effek,
Of Taurentum the fyrth we se but less
(Biggit, as thai say, by worthy Herculess),
And, our forgane the tother syde alsso,
Rayss vp Lacynya the tempill of Iuno,
Of Cawlon cite eik the wallys hie,
And Scyllacium quhar schipbrokyn mony be.
Syne, far of in the flude, we gan aspy
The byrnand Ethna into Sycilly,
And a fell rage rowting of the sey
Alang way thens, and on the rolkis hie
We hard the iawpys bete, and at the cost
A hydduus brayng of brokyn seys bost—
Apon schald bankis boldynnys hie the flude;
The stowr vpbullyrris sand as it war wode.
My fader than cryis, ‘Howe! feris, help away,
Streke aris atanys with all the forss ȝe may!
No wondir this is the selkouth Caribdis;
Thir horribbill rolkis and craggis heir, I wyss,
Helenus the prophete ful weil dyd ws declare.’
The sammyn wyss as thai commandyt ware
Thai dyd onon, and Pallynurus fyrst
Hard halys the schete on syde, and fast gan thryst
The forschip to the wallis and the tyde,
Saland on bawburd towart the left syde;
Towart the left, with mony heyss and haill,
Socht all our flot fast baith with rowth and saill.
The swelland swyrl vphesyt ws til hevyn;
Syne wald the waw swak ws doun ful evyn,
As it apperit, vnder the sey to hell.
Thryss the holkyt craggis hard we ȝell,
Quhar as the swelch had the rolkis thyrlyt;
And thryss the fame furth spowt, that so hie quhirlyt
It semyt watir the starnys, as we thocht.
Be this the son went to, and ws forwrocht
Left dissolat; the wyndis calmyt eik.
We, not bekend quhat rycht courss mycht we seik,
War warp to seywart by the outwart tyde
Of Ciclopes onto the costis syde.
The port quhamto we cappit wes ful large,
And fra al wyndis blast for schip or barge
Sovir al tyme, but netheless fast by
The grisly Ethna dyd rummyll, schudder and cry,
Sum tyme thrawing owt, heich in the skyis,
The blak laithly smoke that oft dyd ryss
As thunderis blast, and rekand as the pyk,
With gledis sparkand as the hail als thik.
Vpspring the blesis and fyry lumpis we se,
Quhilk semyt forto lik the starnys hie;
Sum tyme it rasyt gret rochys, and oft will
Furth bok the bowellis or entralis of the hyll,
And lowsyt stanys vpwarpys in the ayr
Rownd in a sop, with mony crak and rayr:
The stew of byrnand heyt law from the grond
Vpstrikis thar, that doith to hevyn rebound.
The rumour is doun thrung vndir this mont
Enchelades body with thundir lyis half bront,
And hydduus Ethna abufe his belly set.
Quhen he lyst gant or blaw, the fyre is bet,
And from that furnys the flambe doith brist or glide:
Quhou oft he turnys our hys irkit syde
All Sycil trymlys, quaking with a rerd,
And vgly stew ourquhelmys hevyn and erd.
That nycht, lurkand in woddis we remane,
Of feirfull monstris sufferand mekil pane;
Bot quhat causyt syk noyss na thing we saw,
For nowthir lycht of planetis mycht we knaw,
Nor the brycht poyll, nor in the ayr a starn,
Bot in dyrk clowdis the hevynnys warpit darn;
The moyn was vndir walk and gave na lycht,
Haldyn ful dym throu myrknes of the nycht.”