Читать книгу The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse - Gawin Douglas - Страница 20

Wyth this, the hevyn sa quhyrlit about his speir

Out of the sey the dym nycht gan appeir,

With hir dyrk weid bath erth and firmament

Involwyng, by hir secret schaddowis quent

Covering Gregion and Myrmydonys slyght;

Within the wallis to bed went euere wyght:

Still warin all, and soft vapour of sleip

Apon thar wery lymmys fast doith creip.

Be than the army of mony a Gregioun,

Stuffit in schippis, come fra Tenedon,

Stil, vnder frendly sylens of the moyn,

To the kend costis speding thame ful soyn;

And quhen the takynnyng, or the bail of fyre,

Rays from the kyngis schip, vp byrnand schyre,

Of the goddis be frawart destany

Synon preservit couth this syng aspy;

The fyrryn closeris oppynnys, but noys or dyn,

And Grekis, hyd the horssis cost within,

Patent war maid to fight and to the ayr.

Joyfull and blyth, from that boys statw thar,

Discending thai downlat by cordis atanys

Thersander and Sthenelus, twa capitanys,

The dowr Vlixes als, and Athamas,

Pelyus nevo Pyrrus, and kyng Thoas,

The first Machaon, and Menelaus,

And the engyne forgyar hait Epeus;

The cite thai invaid, and fast infest,

With wyne and sleip yberyit and at rest.

Slane ar the wachis liggyng on the wall;

Opnyt the portis, leyt in thar feris all,

Togidder jonyt euery cumpany:

Throu the cite sone rays the noys and scry.

Thys was that tyme quhen the fyrst quyete

Of naturale sleip, to quham na gyft mair swete,

Stelis on fordoverit mortale creaturis,

And in thar swewynnys metis quent figuris.

Lo! in my sleip, I se stand me befor,

As to my syght, maist lamentabil Hector,

Wyth large flude of teris, and al besprent,

As he, vmquhile, eftyr the cart was rent,

With barknyt blude and powder: O God, quhat skath!

Boldynnyt ful gret war feit and lymmys baith,

By bandis of the cordis quhilk thame drewch.

Ha! walloway! quhat harm and wo eneuch!

Quhat ane was he! how far changit from joy

Of that Hector, quhilum returnyt to Troy,

Cled with the spulȝe of hym Achillys,

Or quhen the Troiane fyry blesis, I wys,

On Grekis schippis, thyk fald he slang that day

Quhen that he slew the Duke Prothesylay!

Hys fax and berd was fadyt quhar he stude,

And all hys hayr was glotnyt ful of blude;

Full mony woundis on his body bayr he,

Quhilk, in defens of hys natyve cuntre,

About the wallys of Troy ressavyt he had.

Me thocht, I first, wepyng and na thing glaid,

Rycht reuerently begouth to clepe this man,

And with sik dolorus wordis thus began:

O thou, of Troy the lemand lamp of lycht!

O Troiane hope, maist ferm defens in fyght!

Quhat has the tareit? quhy maid thou this delay,

Hector, quham we desyrit mony a day?

From quhat cuntre this wys cummyn art thou?

That, eftir feil slauchter of thi frendis now,

And of thi folkis and cite efter huge payn,

Quhen we beyn irkit, we se the heir agayn!

Quhat hard myschance fylyt so thi plesand face?

Or quhy se I tha feil woundis, allace!

Onto thir wordis he nane answer maid,

Nor to my voyd demandis na thyng said,

Bot with ane hevy murmour, as it war draw

Furth of the boddum of his breste weil law,

Allace! allace! thou goddes son, quod he,

Salf thi self from this fyre, and fast thou fle;

Our ennemys has thir worthy wallys tane;

Troy from the top down fallys, and all is gane.

Enewch has lestit of Priamus the ryng,

The fatis wil na mair it induryng.

Gif Pargama, the Troiane wallys wyght,

Mycht langar haue beyn fendit into fyght,

With this rycht hand thai suld haue be defendit;

Adew! fair weil! for euer it is endit.

In thi keping committis Troy, but les,

Hir kyndly goddis clepit Penates;

Tak thir in falloschip of thi fatis all,

And large wallis for thame seik thou sall,

Quhilk at the last thi self sall beld vp hie,

Eftir lang wandryng and errour our the see.

Thus said Hectour, and schew furth in his handis

The dreidfull valis, wymplis, and garlandis

Of Vesta, goddes of the erth and fyre,

Quhilk in hir tempil eternaly byrnys schyre.