University of Virginia Library

“The secund day be this sprang fra the est,
Quhen Aurora the wak nycht dyd arest
And chayss fra hevyn with hir dym skyis donk;
Than suddanly, furth of the woddis ronk,
We se a strange man, of form onknaw—
A lenar wight na mayr pynyt I ne saw,
Nor ȝit sa wrachitly beseyn a wy;
Towart the cost, quhar that we stude in hy,
Hys handis furth he strekis askand supple.
We hym behald, and al hys corss gan se
Maist laithly ful of ordur, and hys berd
Rekand doun the lenth neir of a ȝerd,
Hys tawbart and array sewyt with breris,
Bot he was Greik be all hys othir feris,
And vmquhile was, as eftir weil we kend,
To Troy intil hys faderis armour send.
This ilk man, fra he beheld on far
Troiane habitis, and of our armys wes war,
At the first sicht he styntit and stude aw,
And fra hys payss begouth abak to draw,
Bot sone eftyr cummys rynnyng in a rayss
Down to the schoir, wepyng and askand grace:
‘O ȝhe Troianys, be all the planetis’, quod he,
‘Be all the starnys and the goddis hie,
And be the hailsum spreit of hevynnys lycht,
I beseik tak me with ȝou, catyve wycht,
And leid me in quhat land at euer ȝe pless:
That may suffyss, thar war my hartis eyss.
I knaw me ane of the Grekis navy;
In weir to Troy cuntre, I grant, socht I;
For the quhilk deid, gyf that of our trespas
Sa gret the offence and the iniurys was,
Rent me in pecis, and in the fludis swak,
Or drown law vndir the large seys brak.
Gyf that I perych, it is ȝit sum comfort
That I of mennys handis deing at schort,’
Quod he, and tharwith, grulyng on hys kneis,
He lappit me fast by baith the theys.
We hym exort to schaw quhat was his name,
Of quhat kynrent and blude cummyn at hame,
And syne to tell quhat forton had hym betyde.
My fader Anchiss na ma wordis wald byde,
Bot furthwith gaue that ȝong man his rycht hand,
And assurys hys spreit with that presand;
He at the last this dreid has done away,
And on this wyss begouth to carp and say:
‘Of the realm Itachia I am, but less,
And of the cumpany of fey Vlixes,
And Achemenydes onto name I hait,
Cummyn onto Troy with my fader of lait,
Bot a puyr wageour, clepyt Adamastus—
Wald God ȝit the same forton remanyt to wss!
My falloschip onwytting forȝet me heir,
Quhen tha thir cruel marchys left for feir,
And in the Ciclopes huge cave tynt me;
A gowsty hald within laithly to se,
Ful of vennom and mony bludy meyss.
Bustuus hie Poliphemus set a deyss
Thar remanys, that may the starnys schaik.
Ȝe goddis delyvir this erd from sik wraik,
For he is vgsum and grysly forto se,
Hutyt to speke of, and aucht not nemmyt be.
Thir wrachit mennys flesch, that is hys fude,
And drynkis worsum, and thar lappyrrit blude.
I saw my self quhen, gruflyngis amyd his cave,
Twa bodeys of our sort he tuke and rayf,
Intil hys hyddus hand thame thrymlyt and wrang,
And on the stanys owt thar harnys dang,
Quhil brayn and eyn and blude al poplit owt—
I saw that cruel fend eik thar but dowt
Thar lymmys ryfe and eyt, as he war woid,
The ȝoustir tharfra chirtand and blak blude,
And the hait flesch vndir his teith flykkerand.
Bot not onwrokyn, forsuyth, this feste he fand,
Nor Vlixes list not lang suffyr this,
Ne this kyng of Itachy hym self nor his
Myghtyn forȝet, into sa gret a plyght.
For sammyn as that horribyll fendlich wight
Had eyt his fyll, and drunk wyne he hym gave,
Sowpit in sleip, his nek furth of the cave
He straucht, fordronkyn, lyggyng in his dreym
Bokkis furth and ȝyskis of ȝowstyr mony streym,
Raw lumpys of flesch and blude blandyt with wyne.
We the gret goddys besocht and kavillys syne
Kastis quhat suld be euery mannys part,
Syne al atanys abowt and on hym start,
And with a scharpyt and brynt steyng of tre
Out dyd we boyr and pyke hys mekil e,
That lurkit alane vndyr hys thrawyn front large,
Als braid as is a Gregioun scheild or targe,
Or lyke onto the lantern of the moyn:
And thus at last haue we ravengit soyn
Blithly the gostis of our feris ded.
Bot ȝhe, onhappy men, fle from this sted,
Fle, fle this cost, and smyte the cabill in twane!
For quhou grysly and how gret I ȝou sayn
Lurkis Polyphemus, ȝymmand his beystis rouch,
And al thar pappis mylkis throuch and throuch,
Ane hundreth otheris, als huge of quantite,
Endlang this ilk costis syde of the se,
Gret Ciclopes inhabitis heir and thar,
And walkis in thir hie montanys our alquhar.
The moyn hess now fyllyt hir hornys thryss
With new lyght sen I haue on this wyss
My lyfe in woddis led, but syght of men,
In desert hyrnys and seyr wild beistis den,
And far out from my cavern dyd aspy
The grym Ciclopes, and oft thar grysly cry
And eik stamping of thar feyt maid me trymmyl.
My wrachit fude was berreis of the brymmyll,
And stanyt heppis, quhilk I on buskis fand,
With rutis of herbis I holkit furth of land;
And vyssyand al about, I se at last
This navy of ȝowris drawing hyddir fast,
Quhamto I me betaucht and gan avow,
Quhat flote at euer it was—for wayt ȝe quhou
It is enuch that I eschapyt haue
Ȝone cruel pepill, I set not of the lave;
For, rather ȝe or I fal in syk wraik,
Quhat deith ȝe pless, the lyfe fra me gar taik.’”