Читать книгу The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse. Volumes 1 & 2 - Virgil - Страница 20

The takyng of the tresonabill Synon,

And of hys fenȝeit wordis mony one.

Lo, the ilk tyme, harland onto the kyng5

Troiane hyrdis with gret clamour dyd bryng

A ȝong man, baith his handis behynd his bak

Hard bundyn, that wilfully forto be tak

Rendrit hym self, onknawyn the caws quhy,

Forto perform his deid mair secretly;10

By stowt curage reddy to athir of tway,

Owder to bryng hys slycht to gude assay,

Or faillyng tharof, dowtles reddy to de

Les than to Grekis he oppynnyt the cite.

On ather part hym to behald atanys15

Fast flokkis about a multitude ȝong Troianys,

Byssy to knak and pul the presoneir.

Now the dissait of Grekis may ȝe heir,

And all thar falshed lern by this a slycht.

For, alsso fast in myddis of al our sycht20

As that drery onarmyt wyght was stad,

And with eyn blent about, semyng ful rad,

Behaldand Troiane rowtis on athir hand,

Alace, quod he, wald God some erd, or sand,

Or sum salt sey dyd swelly me alyve!

Quhat other thing now restis to me catyve,

Quhamto sal nevir amang Grekis agane5

A place be fundyn suythly to remane?

And maratour, Troianys, offendyt eik,

To sched my blude by paynful deth dois seik.

With this regrait our hartis sterit to piete,

All molestatioune cessit and lattyn be,10

We hym exort rehers, and tobe bald,

Of quhat lynnage he was, and quhat he wald,

And to ramembir, gude hope of ferm supple

Happynnys oft to presoneris in captiuite.

He, at the last, this fenȝeit dreid dyd away,15

And on this wys onone begouth to say;

Forsuyth, Schir kyng, I sal, quhat euer betyde,

Grant to the all the verite, and nocht hyde,

Nor, be na ways, me lyst nocht to deny

That of the Grekis menȝe ane am I.20

Thys principaly I wald thou vndyrstude;

Thocht frawart fortoun miserabill and bayr of gude

Has maid Synon, sche sal nocht mak hym als,

Quhat euer he says, nowder lear nor fals.

Gyf euer onto ȝour eris come the name,25

The hie wirschip, and the renownyt fame

Of Palamedes, from Belus blude discend,

Quham Grekis by fals traysoun, as weil is kend,

Throw corrupt witnes stanyt to ded, but les,

For he the weir forbad and procurit pes;30

Now murn thai for his dede; and with hym heir

In falloschip, my puyr fader in weir

Send me of ȝouth, as to hym neir of blude.

Quhil in prosperite of the realm he stude,

And Grekis ryng by counsale was rewlit wysly,5

Sum name of wyrschip and autorite bair I:

Bot efter that by envy and haitrent

Of the fals flechand Vlixes sa quent,

I iape not, for that I say weyll I knaw;

Fra he was slane, allace, and brocht of daw,10

Dolorus my lyfe I led in sturt and pane,

Hevyly weyand my innocent frende thus slane.

Ses couth I nocht, bot in my franacy,

Gyf euer I happit my tyme forto espy,

And victour haue returnyt onto Arge,15

I hecht to be revengit: with wordis large

Thus I prouokit scharp feid and malyce baith.

To me this was fyrst apperans of skaith.

From thens fordwart, Vlixes mair and mayr

With new crymys begouth affray me sair,20

And dangerus rumour amang the commonys hedis

Skalit and sew of me in diuers stedis,

And, knawyng hym self gylty, by hys consait

Grathit hys wapynys of slycht and fals dissait;

Nor cessit he neuer his purpos to persew25

Quhil the solysting of Calcas I mycht rew:

Bot quharto tell I or rehersis this,

That be na ways displesis ȝou, I wys?

Quhy tary I my deth? and ȝe lyst, stryke;

Gyf that ȝe favour all the Grekis elyke,30

This is enewch at ȝe haue hard of me:

Now haist my pane, sen algatis I mon de.

Vlixes, quhilk is kyng of Ithacy,

Wald it war swa, and with gret price wald by

My deth Agamemnon als, and Menalay.5

Than hastit we, and brynt to heir hym say,

Desyrus all the maner forto heir,

Mysknawyng the gret iniquiteis seir

And sle craftis of Grekis in euery deid.

He quakand than, as it had bene for dreid,10

Begouth forto tell furth the remanent,

Sayand on this wys, with ful dissemlyt entent:

The Grekis oft in purpos war and will

To fle from Troy and leif it standand still,

And, wery of thar lang weir, pas away;15

Wald God swa thai had done syne mony a day!

The seys rage and storm thame stoppit oft,

And from thar passage the north wynd onsoft

Held thame abak, in angwys and in feir;

And principaly now, sen this hors was heir20

Of hattyr gestis beldit vp, but dowt,

The stormy clowdis our al the ayr gan rowt.

We, dowtyng heiron, send the preste Erypilus

Answer to seik at the tempill of Phebus,

And from the secret oratory, suyth to sayn,25

Thir soroful tythyngis he ws brocht agane:

With blude and by the slauchtir of a maid,

Grekis, ȝe mesyt the wyndis first, he said,

Quhen that ȝe come of Troy to the cuntre;

Ȝour haym passage by blude mon fundyn be,30

And haue ȝour askyn by deth of a Gregyoun.

Quhen to the commonys eris ran the sown

Of thir wordis, with myndis affrayit, atanys

The cauld dreid ran in throu thar banys,

For feir quhamto was schape this destanye,5

Or quho it was Apollo desyrit to die.

Vlixes than, amang thame, with gret dyn,

Calcas the gret dyvynour has brocht in,

And bissely at hym inquiris he,

By respons of the goddis, quha suld de.10

Than mony ane demyt to me, ful rycht,

The cruel wraik of that dissaitful slycht,

And quyetly persavit how it wald wend.

This Calcas held his tong ten days to end,

Kepand secret and cloys al his entent,15

Refusyng with his word ony to schent,

Or to pronunce the deth of ony wyght:

Skars at the last, throu gret clamour and slyght

Of Vlixes constrenyt, but mair abaid,

As was devisit, the laith word furth braid,20

And me adiudgit to send to the altare.

Tharto alhail the Grekis assentit are,

And sufferit glaidly so the mater pas;

Quhar as tofor eueryane tobasyt was

For hym selwyn, tho blyth was page and knycht25

The chance returnyt on a catyfe wyght.

Cummyn was the duylful day that doith me grys,

Quhen that of me suld be maid sacryfyce,

With salt meldir, as weil the gyis is kend,

Abowt my heide a garland or a bend.30

I grant that from the deth my self I fred,

The bandis I brast, and fast away syne fled

Ontil a muddy marras, quhar, the dyrk nycht,

Amang the rysp and redis out of sycht

Full law I lurkit, quhil vp salys drew thai,5

Gif thai perchance be ȝit passit away.

Now restis thar na hope; allace, fell me!

My natyve cuntre sal I neuer se,

Nor deir childryng, nor fader weil belovit,

Quham, as I traist, the Grekis, all ammovit10

For myne eschaping, turment sal with pane;

Thai, saykles wyghtis, sal for my gilt be slane.

Quharfor, Schir king, be the hie goddis abufe,

And thar mychtis that trewth best knawis and lufe,

And by the faith onfylit, and leil lawte,15

Gyf it with mortale folkis may fundyn be,

Haue rewth and piete on sa feil harmys smart,

And tak compassioune in thi gentill hart;

Apon my wrechit sawle haue sum mercy

That gyltles sufferis sik dyseys wrangwisly.20