Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. I. Early Poetry: Chaucer to Donne
Gawain Douglas (c. 1474–1522)Extracts from the Aeneid: The Ghost of Creusa
T
An syne onto the temple fast I ran:
Quhar, at the porchis or closter of Juno,
Than all bot waist, thocht it was girth, stude tho
Phenix and dour Vlixes, wardanes tway,
For to observe and keip the spreith or pray:
Thiddir in ane heip was gaderit precius geir,
Riches of Troy, and wther jewellis seir
Reft from all partis; and, of templis brynt,
Of massy gold the veschale war furth hynt
From the goddis, and goldin tabillis all,
With precius vestmentis of spuilȝe triumphall:
The ȝing childring, and frayit matrounis eik,
Stude all on raw, with mony peteous screik
About the tresour quhymperand woundir sair.
And I also my self so bald wox thair,
That I durst schaw my voce in the dirk nycht,
And cleip and cry fast throw the stretis on hycht
Full dolorouslie, Creusa! Creusa!
Agane, feil sise, in vane I callit swa,
Throw howsis and the citie quhar I ȝoid,
But outhir rest or resoun, as I war woid;
Quhill that the figour of Creusa and gost,
Of far mair statur than air quhen scho was lost,
Before me, catife, hir seikand, apperit thair.
Abaisit I wolx, and widdersyns start my hair,
Speik mycht I nocht, the voce in my hals sa stak.
Than sche, belife, on this wise to me spak,
With sic wourdis my thochtis to assuage:
O my suete spous, into sa furious raige
Quhat helpis thus thi selfin to turment?
This chance is nocht, but goddis willis went;
Nor it is nocht [a] lefull thing, quod sche,
Fra hyne Creuse thou turs away with the,
Nor the hie governour of the hevin abufe is
Will suffir it so to be; bot the behufis
From thens to wend full far into exile,
And our the braid see saile full mony a myle,
Or thou cum to the land Hesperia,
Quhar, with soft cours, Tybris of Lidia
Rynnis throw the riche feildis of peple stout.
Thair is grete substaunce ordanit the, but dowt,
Thair sall thou haue ane realme, thair sall thou ryng,
And wed to spous the dochtir of a kyng.
Thy weping and thi teris do away,
Quhilk thou makis for thi luifit Crewsay:
For I, the nece of mychty Dardanus,
And guide dochtir vnto the blissit Venus,
Of Mirmidonis the realme sall neuir behald,
Nor ȝit the land of Dolopes so bald,
Nor go to serve na matroun Gregioun;
Bot the grete moder of goddis ilk one
In thir cuntreis withhaldis me for evir.
Adew, fair weile, for ay we man dissevir!
Thou be guide frend, luif wele, and keip fra skaith
Our a ȝong sone, is comoun till ws baith,
Quhen this was spokin, away fra me she glaid,
Left me weping and feil wordis wald haue said:
For sche sa lichtlie wanyst in the air,
That with myne armes thrise I pressit thair
About the hals hir for to haue bilappit,
And thryse all wais my handis togiddir clappit;
The figour fled as lycht wynd, or son beyme,
Or mast liklie a waverand sweving or dreyme.