Thus wi' uncanny pranks he fights,

An' fae he did beguile,

An' twin'd us o' our kneefeft men,

By death and by exile.

Altho' mair gabby he may be

Than NESTOR wife and true,

Yet few will fay, it was nae fau't

That he did him furhow.

Fan his poor glyde was fae mifchiev'd,

He'd neither ca' nor drive,

The lyart lad, wi' years fair dwang'd, The traitor thief did leave.

Ergo aut exfilio vires fubduxit Achivis,
Aut nece. fic pugnat, fic eft metuendus, Ulyffes.
Qui, licet eloquio fidum quoque Neftora vincat,
Haud tamen efficiet, defertum ut Neftora crimen
Effe rear nullum. qui, cum imploraret Ulyffem,
Vulnere tardus equi, feffufque fenilibus annis,

These are nae threeps o' mine, right well

Kens DIOMEDE the wight,

Fa' wi' fnell words him fair did fnib,

An' bann'd his cowardly flight.

The gods tho look on mortal men
Wi'eyn baith just and gleg;

Lo he, fa NESTOR wou'd nae help,

For help himfel does beg!

Than as he did the auld man leave

Amon' fae fierce a menzie,

The law he made, lat him be paid

Back just in his ain cuinzie.

Proditas a focio eft. non haec mihi crimina finge
Seit bene Tydides: qui nomine faepe vocatum
Corripuit; trepidoque fugam exprobravit amico.
Adfpiciunt oculis fuperi mortalia justis.

En eget auxilio, qui non tulit: utque reliquit,

Sic linquendus erat. legem fibi dixerat ipfe.

Yet fan he cry'd, O neipers help!

I ran to tak his part,

He look'd fae haw as gin a dwame
Had juft o'ercaft his heart.

For they had gi'en him fik a fleg,
He look'd as he'd been doited,

For ilka' limb an' lith o' him

'Gainst ane anithir knoited.

Syne wi' my targe I cover'd him,

Fan on the yerd he lies,

An' fav'd his fmeerlefs faul, I think,

'Tis little to my praise.

Conclamat focios. adfum; videoque trementem,

Pallentemque metu, ac trepidantem morte futura.

Oppofui molem clypei; texique jacentem;

Servavique animam (minimum eft hic landis) inertem.

Bat gin wi' Batie ye will bourd,

Come back, lad, to yon place;

Lat Trojans an' your wonted fears

Stand glourin i' your face:

Syne flouch behind my doughty targe,
That yon day your head happit;

There fight your fill, fin' ye are grown
Sae unco crous an' cappit.

Fan I came to him, wi' fad wound

He had nae maughts to gang,

Bat fan he faw that he was fafe,

Right fouple cou'd he spang.

Si perftas certare, locum redeamus in illum :

Redde hostem, vulnusque tuum, solitumque timorem: Poft clypeumque late, et mecum contende fub illo, At poftquam eripui; cui ftandi vulnera vires

Non dederant, nullo tardatus vulnere fugit.

Lo! HECTOR to the toulzie came,

An' gods baith fierce an' grim,

He flegged starker fouk na' you,

Sae fair they dreaded him.

Yet as he did o' flaughter voust,
I len'd him fik a dird,

As laid him arfelins on his back,

To wamble o' the yerd.

4

Fan he fpang'd out, rampag'd an' faid

That nane amon' us a'

Durst venture out upo the lone,

Wi' him to shak a fa’;

Hector adeft: fecumque Deos in praelia ducit. Quaque ruit, non tu tantum terreris, Ulyffe; Sed fortes etiam: tantum trahit ille timoris. Hunc ego fanguineae fucceffu caedis ovantem Cominus ingenti refupinum pondere fudi.

Hunc ego pofcentem, cum quo concurreret, unus