
THE TWELT BUKE OF ENEADOS
CAP. I
Turnus, persavand the Latyn pepill faill,Promittis Eneas allone hym tyll assaill.Quhen Turnus knew the Latyn pepill haillIrk of the weir, and saw thar curage faill,By the frawart aduersiteis of Mart,Quhilk war tofor onbrokyn and stowt of hart,And thocht the tyme requiris hym, but abaid,Forto compleit the promys he had maid,Semyng as towartis hym tho euery wightTo that effect addressyt thar luke and sycht:Than, onrequirit, by insaciabill desyreLangang to feght, and byrnand hait as fyre,Full hie rasand hys curage and hys cheir,He gan amyd the audiens appeir.Fers as a wild lyoun ȝond in Trace,By the huntar wondyt in the chace,Quhen the smert straik in hys breist all fast is,For ire the lokkyrris of hys nek vpcastis,Than first begynnyng to rays hys stern moyd,Reiosyt of the bataill, fers and wod,Onabasytly raschand the schaft in sundir,And on the man liggand at wait thar vndir,Hym to revenge, with bludy mouth doys bray;Nane other wys ferd Turnus the ilk day,Smytyn so brym in fervent violens,That all commouyt in the kyngis presensOn this maner begouth to speke and say:Thar sall in Turnus be fund na delay;And al for nocht ȝon cowart EneadanysThar promys and thar wordis cumis aganys,Willyng retreit thar behestis and sawys;Sa sall thai nocht; we wil nane sik lawys:I sal thar falshed resist and ganestand,And feght contrar thar chiftane hand for hand.Thou ryall prynce and fader, kyng Latyne,Do sacryfy and conferm this convyne:For owdyr sal I with thir handis twaȜon ilk Troiane, forhowar of Asya,Do put to deth, send down to hell, quod he;Lat Latyn pepill syttyng by to seQuhou, myne allane with swerd in thar presensI sall revenge and end our allyris offens;Or than, gyf so betyd he wyn the gre,Lat ws all venquyst to hym subiect be,Ȝeld hym the crown enduryng term of lyve,And lat hym joys Lavinia to hys wyfe.Kyng Latyn tho with sad and degest myndTo hym answeris, and said apon this kynd:O douchty ȝyngkeir, excellent of curage,Quhou far as by thy forcy vassallageMy febill age thou doith exceid, quod he,Als far mair diligently pertenys me,And ganand is, to consell and provyde,And exemyn euery chance may betyde,As I that has in part a maner feir,Be lang experiens knawand the dowtis of weir.Thow weldis Dawnus thy faderis realm and land,And feil citeis conquest with thyne awyn hand;Tharto thou has alsso a gentill hart,Liberall and fre, and in weir most expert,And kyng Latyn hes gold to geif the eik.Perfay, enew otheris, not far to seik,Of madynnys beyn onwed in Latyum wyde,And in the Lawrent feildis heir besyde,Of blude and frendschip na thyng myssemand,Bot worthy tobe queyn of ony land.Thoill me, I pray the, al dissait done away,Thir wordis quhoyn of weght to the till say;And sammyn prent thir sawys in thy wyt.Onlesum is I suld in wedlok knytMy douchtir till ald wowaris of this land,That hir tofor had axit in sik band:All the spa men and Goddis revelyngDeclarit plane that was onlesum thyng.And netheles, I, venquyst cleyn but weir,For luf of the my spowsys cousyng deir,Ourcummyn be hir wofull terys and syte,All maner bandys now hes brokyn quyte;And fra my son in law, full wrangwisly,Hys spous onto hym promyst rest haue I,And forthir on hym movit a wikkyt weir.Sen syne in quhat chance I stand and danger,And quhou fers batellis now persewys me,Full weill thou wait, and seis, Turnus, quod he,And quhou huge travale thou has tholit and pane,As principall maste douchty capitane.Lo, twys in batale venquyst haue we be,And now scantly within our wallit citeThe hope and weill of Italy defendis;Now of our recent blude, as noterly kend is,The flude of Tibir walxis hait agane,And of our huge banys quhite semys the plane.Quhou am I sterit thus in purpos feir?And quhidder flow I thus oft thar and heir?Quhat mad foly all to changis my thocht?Gyf that I reddy be and dowtit nochtThe Troianys for my frendis to ressaue,Gif so war Turnus ded war and bygrave,Quhat! aucht I nocht far rather end the weirHe beand in prosperyte haill and feir?Quhat wald our cosyngis, the Rutilianys,Or quhat wald say the other Italianys,Gyf the I suld thus wys sa wilfully,Axyng our douchteris wedlok and ally,Expone or offer to the ded? quod he:Fortoun defend that chance at sa suld be!Behald the chance of batale variabill,Persave of weir the sykkill ward onstabill:Haue reuth and mercy of thy fader ald,Quham Ardea now, hys cuntre, doys withhald,Diuidit far and disseuerit from the,And for thy saik quhou wobegone is he.Thus said the kyng; bot the violent curageOf Turnus hie mynd bowit neuer a stage;Quha wald with cuyr of medycyne hym meys,The moir encressys and growys hys mail eys:And, eftir that he first mycht speke agane,Thus he began expreym with wordis plane.O thou maist souerane fader, I the pray,To salue my honour, thou wald do awayThir curis, thochtis, and solicitude,For me thou takis; and, schortly to conclude,Suffir me forto plege my deth in wage,For gloryus renovn of vassillage:For we, fader, can swak dartis and brandis,Nocht with febill bot stalwart rycht handis,And of our wondis the red blude ruschis owt.To ȝonder provd Troiane, clepit sa stowt,Hys moder at this tyme salbe far to seik,Quhilk Goddes with hir subtell slychtis eikHir son, accustumat to tak the flycht,Was wont to dek, and to hyde owt of sychtWithin a wifly clowd, as for a trayn,And heild hir self alsso in schaddowis vayn.CAP. II
The queyn perswadis Turnus fra stryfe desist,Bot he for batal can agane resist.Be than the queyn Amata, all in feirOf this onkouth and new maner of weir,Wepyng full sor, all dedlyke, full of harmys,Hyr son in law Turnus hynt in hir armys,That was sa fervent in his ardent desyre.Turnus, said scho, thou best belovit syre,Be thir ilk wofull terys I the pra,And be the wirschip thou aw till Amata,Gyf ony honour of hyr or thy kynTwichys or movys into thy breist within,I the beseik a thyng, myne awyn knycht;Desist and ces to mach Troianys in fight.Thou only comfort of our febill eld,Thou all our rest, our weilfar, and our beld,Haue reuth and piete of my wofull baill:In thy power and mycht restis alhaillThe wirschip and empyre of kyng Latyn;Hys hows and famyll, now lyke to declyne,In the remanys, and is by the vpbore.I the assuyr, and certifeis tharfor,Quhat aventour in this fight sall happyn the,The selfin chance, Turnus, sall betyd me:Sammyn with the, gif thou endis in that stryfe,I sal depart furth of this irksum lyfe,Nor nevir thrall sall I remane to seȜon ilk Eneas son in law to me.Lavinia the maid, with soir smert,Hyr moderis wordis felt deip in hyr hart,So that the rud dyd hyr vissage glow,And full of terys gan hyr chekis strow;The fervent fyre of schame rysys on hie,Kyndland mar large the red culloryt bewte,So that the natural heit the blude dyd chaceOur all the partis of hir quhitly face:Quhill that this virgyn, in this wofull rage,Syk cullouris rendris from hir fresch vissage,As quha byspark wald the quhite evor IndaneWith scarlet droppis or with brovn sangwane,Or quhar the scheyn lylleis in ony stedWar pulderit with the vermel rosys red.The hait luf trublys for the knyght,That on this maid he fixis all hys sycht,And all the mair he byrnys in desyreOf bargane into armys, hait as fyre;Syne to the queyn Amata, but abaid,In few wordis on this wys he said:O my deir moder, of thy wepyng ho,I ȝow beseik, do not, do not so,Persew me not thus with ȝour grete and teris,Nor quhen I pas onto thir mortall werys.In marciall bargane contrary my fo,Do wa to present me sik takyn of wo:In Turnus myghtis lyis nocht, quod he,The chance of deth to mak hym selvyn fre.I say, gyf deth this way be to me schaip,Now may I not astart, nor it eschape.For at this tyme instant my messynger,Idmon clepyt, my credens hecht to berNow to ȝone Troiane tyrrand, rehersyngMy wordis, quhilkis lykis hym na thyng:That is to knaw, to morow, als ayrlyAs brycht Aurora in the orient skyWith rosy chariot lyftis vp hir hed,The firmament schrowdyng in cullour red,That he move not aganys RutilyanysHys ostis, nor nane army of Troianys;Bot athir half fra batale, for the best,Baith sall Troianys and Rutilianys thame rest:And lat ws twa, this bargane to conclude,Betwix ws only dereyn with our blude,And into ȝonder feld, in stalwart stryfe,Lat athir seik Lavinia to hys wyfe.Fra this was said, fast to hys in he spedis,And bad onon do lat hym se hys stedis:Behaldand thame reiosys he in hart,To se thame stand sa fers with curage smart;Quhilk kynd of horsis quhilum, as thai say,Orythia, the lusty fresch may,Of Athenis the kyngis douchter and ayr,As ane maste ryall presand, wonder fair,Send from hir cuntre to kyng Pilumnus,Was foregrandschir onto this ilk Turnus;The quhilk stedis, schapyn at all delyte,Excedit far the snaw in cullour quhite;To speke of speid, thar swyftnes was ontald,For thai the wyndis blastis forryn wald.The byssy knapys and verlettis of hys stabillAbowt thame stud, full ȝaip and seruyabill,And with thar holl luyffis gan thame cheir,Dyd clap and straik thar leyndis to mak thame steir,Thar lokrand manys and thar crestis hieDressys with trelȝeis and camys honestlye.Fra thens onto hys chalmyr went he syne;Abowt his schuldris assays hys halbryk fyne,Of burnyst maill, and schynand rychelyOf fynast gold and quhitly alcomy.Tharwith alsso hys swerd addressis he,Quhat way he wald it oys in the melle;Hys sovir scheld assays he alsso,And eik hys tymbret helm with crestis two;Quhilk swerd was maid onto Dawnus hys fyreBe Wlcanus, the myghty God of fyre,That forgyt this blaid and temperit with hys handis,Hait glowand dyppyt in the Stigiane strandis.Syne with gret fors, enarmyt in all hys geir,Full lychtly vp he hynt hys stalwart speir,Quhilk tho amyddis the hall lenand studVp by a pillar huge square and rude;Quhilum the spulȝe he byreft from aneClepyt Actor, a capitane Auruncane:The schaft he schuke, and branglys lustely,Tharto with lowd voce thus can he cry:O now thou speir, that neyir failȝeit thy deidQuhen I the callyt to my desyre in neid,Quhilum the weldit Actor, mast douchty knycht,Now the in hand withhaldis Turnus wight;Now is the tyme that I maste myster the:Forto dovn bet the corps thou grant to meOf ȝondir Phrigiane, is skant half a man,That with my stalwart handis I may thanHys halbrik of hys body to arras,Hakkyt, and rent, and persyt in mony place,And in the dusty puldyr heir and tharSuddill and fyle hys crispand ȝallow hair,That are maid creys, and curlys now sa weill,Yplet ilk nycht on the warm broch of steill,Dekkyt and donk, on hys wifly maner,Of fragrant myr and other envnctmentis seir.With sykkyn fury rage catchyt is he,That thus he carpys till a schaft of tre;And from the vissage of this ardent syreThe sparkis glydis as the hait fyre,For veray fervour of the feirfull teynSchynys and brystis furth of baith hys eyn:Lyke as the bull, that bargane begyn wald,Gevis terribill rowstis and lowis monyfald,Or than aggrevit, bustuus, and furthborn,Presys hys ire to assay with hys horn,Lenand hys spald to the stok of a tre,And with hys dynt the wynd to rentis he,Or, forto mak debait apoun the land,With hys hard clufe vpwarpys fast the sand.In the self tyme, na les of curage, Enee,Cled in hys moderis armour awfull to se,Scharpys hym self in furour marciall,Rasand hys greif for ardour bellicall,And joyus wolx of weir to mak ane endBy syk proffer and poyntment as was send.Syne comfortis he hys ferys dolorus,And mesyt the dreid of sad Ascanyus,Declarand thame the fatale ordinans,Thar destyne, and Goddis purvians;And to the kyng of Lawrenteis, Latyn,Twychand this forsaid trety and convyne,Bad the messyngeris bair hame but delaySovir answer, as thai desyrit alway,And of the peys and trewys, as thai spak,Proclame articulis and lawys of contract.CAP. III
Juno, knawand Turnus last day at end,To stop the bargane has Juturna send.Scarsly vpsprang the nixt day followyng,Scheddand the bemys of hys bryght mornyngApoun the toppis of the montanys hie,As Phebus stedis first of the deip seRasyt thar hedis and noys thirlys on hight,Our all the feildis blawand the cleir lyght;Quhen that the Troianys and RutilianysThe grund myssouris, evynnys, dichtis, and planys,Vndir the wallys of the cheif cite,Thar as the feild and fechtyng place suld be:Amyddis quham the harthis vp thai set,Quharon the fyris suld be maid and bet,And to the common Goddis eik bedeynThe altaris coverit with the scherald greyn.Sum otheris brocht the fontane watir fair,And sum the haly ingill with thame bair;With lynnyng valis or lyke apronys lychtThai war arrayt, and thar hedis dichtIn wyppys of the haly herb vervane.The legionys tho furth haldis to the plane,And all the rowtis of Awsonyanys,That otherwys ar hait Italyanys,Furth thryngis at the portis full attonys,With lancis lang and pykkis for the nonys.Thyddir all the Troianys wardis, by and by,And Tyrrheyn ostis ruschis hastely,Bodyn full weill in nobill armour seir;Nane otherwys with wapynnys and with geirArrayt for the batale all at rycht,Than thocht the fury of Mars thame callit to fycht.Amyd the thousandis swyftly throw the planysFurth sprentis lustely thir capitanys,In rich purpour arrayt and fyne gold brycht,Assaracus sonnys and Mnestheus wight,And on the tother part strang Asilas,And bald Mesapus also with hym was,Neptunus son, expert in hors dantyng.And eftir that the trumpet blew a syng,Than euery partyment bownys to thar stand,And gan thar speris stik doun in the land,Set by thar scheildis, to behald the fyne.The wemen wedois and the matronys syne,Desyrus forto se the bargane stowt,Of childyr and of commonys mony a rowtThat couth na wapynnys weld, nor armour weir,With the onweldy agit folk infeir,Clam on the hight and hedis of the towris,The wallys all and howsis ryggyngis flowris;And sum abufe apon the portis hieAscendit ar to behald the melle.Bot Juno tho dovn from the hycht, I wys,Of the montane that Albane clepit isNow in our days, set than this hyllys dovnHad nowder name, honour, nor renovne,Scho dyd behald amyd the feldis planeAthir batellis and the ostis twane,Baith of the Troianys and the Laurenteis,And kyng Latynus cite eik scho seys.Onon to Turnus systyr vp on hie,That clepit was Juturna, carpys sche,Thys Goddes to that haly Nymphe, mastresOf wellys, stankis, and rowtand stremys expres;Quhilk honour Jove, the kyng of hevynnys hie,Hyr gave for the byreft virginite:Said, O thou Nymphe, wirschip of fludis cleir,That to my saul is hald maste leif and deir,Thou knawys weill, I the preferrit ayTo all the otheris damysellys, persay,Of Latyn cuntre, quhat so evir thai werThat wrangwisly ascendit or drew neirThe bed onprofitabill of Jupiter mast hie;And glaidly eik haue I not stakyt theIntill a party of the hevyn alssua?Hark now thy sorow, thou Juturna,And wyte me not bot I the warnyt haue.Turnus and thy cheif cite haue I save,Sa lang as that the fatis sufferit me,And quhill werd sisteris sa tholyt tobe:Bot now I se that ȝong man haste, but faill,To mach in feild with fatis inequaill;The lattir day and term approchis neOf fatale fors and strangast destyne.Nowder this bargane ȝonder on the greynNor consideratioun may I se with eyn.Pas thou on, for thy deir brothir germaneGyf thou dar suffir ony mar dreidfull pane;To the this semys and pertenys, quod sche,Gyf that, perchans, ony bettyr may be,Or eft betyd onto ȝon catyvis kend.Scars had Juno thir wordis brocht to end,Quhen that the nymphe Juturna bedeynPlente of terys furthȝet from hir eyn;Hyr fair quhite breist, thar as scho dyd stand,Thrys or four tymys smait with hir awyn hand.Saturnus get, this Juno, says; tha terysNa wys to this tyme pertenys nor efferys:Hast the, gyf that thou can be ony wayWithdraw thy brother from the deth away;Or than do mak the ostis baith on steir,Provok the batale, and thame move to weir,And this convyne and trety, new consave,Do brek, disturb, and with the wynd bywave.I sall the warrand and the wyrkar beTo mak the baldly vndertak, quod sche.On this wys Juno can this nymphe exort,And left hir hail in weir and dowt, at schort,With mynd full tryst, wobegone, and onsound,Full deip smyttyn with the sorowfull wound.