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Wyth al his speid fra thens he tuk the gayt
That was ontil him grantit by hys fayt.
And sone thai warin cummyn to the plane
And lattir wardys, quharin dois remane
Valyant folkis in feild and chevalry,
Tha secret stedis hantand by and by.
Heir him recontrit Parthenopeus,
And intil armys valyant Tedeus,
The pail gost eik of Adrastus the king.
Thar saw he als, with huge greyt and murnyng
In mydlerd oft menyt, thir Troianys
Duryng the sege that into batale slane is,
Quhom as he gan behald wydequhar on raw,
Ful tendirly complenyng, thar he saw
Glawcus, Medontus and Thersylocus,
Anthenoris thre sonnys, and Polybetus
Onto the goddess Ceres consecrate;
Ideus saw he in his ald estate,
Baith rewland ȝit his cart, and wapynnys weildand.
Onto Eneas left side and rycht hand
The sawlys flokkis, circulyt in a rowt.
Not sufficyt thame to spy him anys abowt,
Bot, desiring he tareit evir mair,
Furth with him forto walkin and repar
Weil lykis thame, towart him fast to thring,
And to inquire the causs of his cummyng.
The nobillis eik of Grekis, one by one,
With the gret rowtis of Agamenon,
Alssone as thai the stalwart Troiane saw
In brycht armour amyd the schaddowis law,
Gretly afferd war smyte with fellon dreid.
Sum gave the bak, takand the flycht gude speid,
As quhilum thai onto thar schippis socht;
Sum rasyt a cry with waik voce, as thai mocht;
Bot al for nocht, thar clamour was ful skant,
The sovndis brak with gasping or a gant.
Syne Deiphobus, quhilum armypotent,
Kyng Pryamis son, with body tor and rent,
Thar he behald, and crewel maglit face,
Vissage menȝeit, and baith hys handis, allace!
Halfhedis spulȝeit, of stowyt his erys tway,
By schaymful wound hys ness cuttit away.
With gret difficulte he him skarsly knew,
Trymlyng for lak, eschamyt red of hew,
As that he mycht, hydand hys fellon woundis.
Ondemandit, with frendly wordis and sovndis
Ene hym grat, sayand: “Of gret renown,
Deiphobus, armypotent champyoun,
Quha hess, allace! the marthyrit swa and slane
By sa crewel tormentis and hydduus pane?
Quhou euer was ony sufferit the sa to dight?
It was me tald, of Troy the lattir nyght,
Thou, wery and forfochtin in that sted
For sa feil Grekis be thi dyntis ded,
Abuf the hepe of ded corpsis ourane
Fell down for bled, thar standing thyne allane.
Than I my self, fra this was to me schaw,
Down at the ness Rethe, by the costis law,
A voyd tumbe rasyt, and with lowd voce thryss
Apon the wrethis and wandrand gaistis cryis.
Thy armys and thy name that place doith hald.
My frend, thy body kouth I nocht behald
Nor fynd, thocht I wald it haue gravit eft,
The tyme quhen I our natyve cuntre left.”
Kyng Pryamis son maid answer: “Suyth is it,
Na thing, my deir frend, dyd thou pretermyt;
All that thou aucht to Deiphobus, ilk deill
Thou hest perfurnyst worthely and weil,
As to my berial and sprete appertenyt.
Bot my hard fatis war wers than thou wenyt,
For the detestabil cursyt wikkytnes
Of Helyn born in Lacena, I gess,
Hass me involuyt in thir harmys ȝe se—
Thir ar hir last luf drowreis left with me.
Ful weil thou wait quhou that the lattir nycht
In fals myrthis we spendyt, euery wight
(Allace the quhile, our gret mater of cayr
Behuffis ws hald in memor euermar),
Quhen that the fatale horss, to our ennoy,
Com speland owr the hie wallys of Troy,
With belly chargit ful of armyt men.
That strang lurdane than, quham weil ȝe ken,
The Troiane matronys hedis in a ryng,
Fenȝeand to Bachus feste and karellyng;
Amyddis al the laif a gret fyre brand,
Byrnand ful cleir, scho haldis in hir hand,
Quharwith, out from the master streyt of Troy,
The Grekis dyd scho bekyn and convoy.
This ilk tyme me, with hevy curis lang
Of irksum weir and sad, slumrys strang
Oppressyt, for my walkyn mony fald,
My fey chalmer gan my body hald.
Fordoverit as I lay in to that sted,
In swete profound rest of sleip lyke soft ded,
That notabil spowss furth of hir lugyng place,
This meyn sesson, al armour dyd arrace;
My trasty sword fra vnder my hed away
Stall scho, and in the place brocht Menelay;
The chalmer durris oppynnyt scho in hy
Wenyng to wyrk a hie plesour tharby
To hir first luffar, and hir ald schame
Tharthrou to quynche, and recovyr gud name.
Quhat suld I tary, or ȝou langar hald?
The Grekis ruschit in the chalmyr thikfald;
Amang al otheris sammyn thiddir spedis
That schrew prouocar of all wikkyt dedis,
Eolus nevo, cursyt Vlixes sle.
On siklyke wyss as thar thai dyd with me,
Gret goddis mot the Grekis recompens,
Gif I may thyg avengeans but offens!
Bot say me this agane, frend, altogidder,
Quhat aventur hess brocht the levand hydder?
Quhidder wavyt wilsum by storm of the see,
Or at command of goddis, cum thou?” quod he,
“Or quhat fortoun doith the cach and steyr,
That to this sory hald thou cummys heir,
To vissy this trublyt dym regioun,
Quhar evir is nycht, and nevir son ȝit schon?”