Lawd, honour, praysyngis, thankis infynyte 
To the and thy dulce ornat fresch endyte, 
Maist reuerend Virgill, of Latyn poetis prynce, 
Gem of engyne and flude of eloquens, 
Thow peirless perle, patroun of poetry, 
Royss, regester, palm, lawrer and glory, 
Chosyn charbukkill, cheif flour and cedyr tre, 
Lantarn, laid stern, myrrour and A per se, 
Maister of masteris, sweit sours and spryngand well 
Wyde quhar our all rung is thyne hevynly bell--- 
I meyn thy crafty warkis curyus 
Sa quyk, lusty and maist sentencyus, 
Plesand, perfyte and feilabill in all degre, 
As quha the mater beheld tofor thar e, 
In every volume quhilk the lyst do wryte 
Surmontyng fer all other maner endyte, 
Lyke as the royss in Iune with hir sweit smell 
The maryguld or dasy doith excell. 
Quhy suld I than with dull forhed and vayn, 
With rude engyne and barrand emptyve brayn, 
With bad, harsk spech and lewit barbour tong 
Presume to write quhar thy sweit bell is rung 
Or contyrfate sa precyus wordys deir? 
Na, na, noth swa, but kneill quhen I thame heir. 
 For quhat compair betwix mydday and nycht? 
Or quhat compair betwix myrknes and lycht? 
Or quhat compar is betwix blak and quhyte? 
Far grettar difference betwix my blunt endyte 
And thy scharp sugurate sang Virgiliane, 
Sa wysly wrocht with nevir a word invane. 
My waverand wyt, my cunnyng febill at all, 
My mynd mysty, thir may nocht myss a fall--- 
Stra for thys ignorant blabryng imperfyte 
Besyde thy polyst termys redymyte. 
And netheless with support and correctioun, 
For naturall lufe and frendely affectioun 
Quhilkis I beir to thy warkis and endyte--- 
All thocht God wait tharin I knaw full lyte--- 
And that thy facund sentence mycht be song 
In our langage alsweill as Latyn tong--- 
Alsweill? na, na, impossibill war, per de--- 
ȝit with thy leif, Virgile, to follow the, 
I wald into my rurall wlgar gross 
Wryte sum savoryng of thyne Eneados. 
But sair I dreid forto disteyn the quyte 
Throu my corruppit cadens imperfyte--- 
Disteyn the? nay forsuyth, that may I nocht; 
Weill may I schaw my burall bustuus thocht 
Bot thy wark sall endur in lawd and glory 
But spot or falt condyng etern memory. 
Thocht I offend, onwemmyt is thy fame; 
Thyne is the thank and myne salbe the schame. 
Quha may thy versis follow in all degre 
In bewtie, sentence and in grauite? 
Nane is, nor was, ne ȝit salbe, trow I, 
Had, hass or sal haue sic craft in poetry. 
Of Helicon so drank thou dry the flude 
That of thy copioss fouth or plenitude 
All mon purches drynk at thy sugurit tun; 
So lamp of day thou art and schynand son 
All otheris on forss mon thar lycht beg or borrow; 
Thou art Vesper and the day stern at morow, 
Thow Phebus lightnar of the planetis all--- 
I not quhat dewly I the clepe sall, 
For thou art all and sum, quhat nedis more, 
Of Latyn poetis that sens was, or befor. 
Of the writis Macrobius sans faill 
In hys gret volume clepit Saturnaill. 
Thy sawys in sic eloquens doith fleit, 
So inuentive of rethorik flowris sweit 
Thou art, and hass so hie profund sentens 
Tharto, perfyte but ony indigens, 
That na lovyngis ma do incress thy fame, 
Nor na reproche dymynew thy gud name. 
Bot sen I am compellit the to translait, 
And not only of my curage, God wait, 
Durst interpryd syk owtrageus foly, 
Quhar I offend the less reprefe serve I; 
And that ȝe knaw at quhais instans I tuke 
Forto translait this maist excellent buke, 
I meyn Virgillis volume maist excellent, 
Set this my wark full febill be of rent, 
At the request of a lord of renown 
Of ancistry nobill and illustir baroun, 
Fader of bukis, protectour to sciens and lair, 
My speciall gud Lord Henry, Lord Sanct Clair, 
Quhilk with gret instance diuerss tymys seir 
Prayt me translait Virgill or Homeir, 
Quhais plesour suythly as I vndirstude 
As neir coniunct to hys lordschip in blude 
So that me thocht hys request ane command, 
Half disparit this wark I tuke on hand 
Nocht fully grantand nor anys sayand ȝee, 
Bot only to assay quhou it mycht be. 
Quha mycht gaynsay a lord so gentill and kynd 
That euer had ony curtasy in thar mynd, 
Quhilk besyde hys innatyve pollecy  
Humanyte, curage, fredome and chevalry, 
Bukis to recollect, to reid and se, 
Hass gret delyte as euer had Ptholome?
Quharfor to hys nobilite and estait, 
Quhat so it be, this buke I dedicait, 
Writtin in the langage of Scottis natioun, 
And thus I mak my protestatioun. 
Fyrst I protest, beaw schirris, be ȝour leif, 
Beis weill avisit my wark or ȝhe repreif, 
Consider it warly, reid oftar than anys; 
Weill at a blenk sle poetry nocht tayn is, 
And ȝit forsuyth I set my bissy pane 
As that I couth to mak it braid and plane, 
Kepand na sudron bot our awyn langage, 
And spekis as I lernyt quhen I was page. 
Nor ȝit sa cleyn all sudron I refuss, 
Bot sum word I pronunce as nyghtbouris doys: 
Lyke as in Latyn beyn Grew termys sum, 
So me behufyt quhilum or than be dum 
Sum bastard Latyn, French or Inglys oyss 
Quhar scant was Scottis---I had nane other choys. 
Nocht for our tong is in the selwyn skant 
Bot for that I the fowth of langage want 
Quhar as the cullour of his properte 
To kepe the sentens tharto constrenyt me, 
Or than to mak my sayng schort sum tyme, 
Mair compendyus, or to lykly my ryme. 
Tharfor, gude frendis, for a gymp or a bourd, 
I pray ȝou note me nocht at euery word. 
The worthy clerk hecht Lawrens of the Vaill, 
Amang Latynys a gret patron sans faill, 
Grantis quhen twelf ȝheris he had beyn diligent 
To study Virgill, skant knew quhat he ment. 
Than thou or I, my frend, quhen we best weyn 
To haue Virgile red, vnderstand and seyn, 
The rycht sentens perchance is fer to seik. 
This wark twelf ȝheris first was in makyng eyk 
And nocht correct quhen the poet gan decess; 
Thus for small faltis, my wyss frend, hald thy pess. 
Adherdand to my protestatioun,  
Thocht Wilȝame Caxtoun, of Inglis natioun, 
In proyss hes prent ane buke of Inglys gross, 
Clepand it Virgill in Eneadoss, 
Quhilk that he says of Franch he dyd translait, 
It hass na thing ado tharwith, God wait, 
Ne na mair lyke than the devill and Sanct Austyne. 
Haue he na thank tharfor, bot loyss hys pyne, 
So schamefully that story dyd pervert. 
I red his wark with harmys at my hart, 
That syk a buke but sentens or engyne 
Suldbe intitillit eftir the poet dyvyne; 
Hys ornate goldyn versis mair than gilt 
I spittit for dispyte to se swa spilt 
With sych a wyght, quhilk trewly be myne entent 
Knew neuer thre wordis at all quhat Virgill ment--- 
Sa fer he chowpis I am constrenyt to flyte. 
The thre first bukis he hass ourhippyt quyte 
Salfand a litill twychyng Polidorus 
And the tempest furth sent by Eolus, 
And that full sempilly on hys awyn gyss; 
Virgill thame wrait all on ane other wyss, 
For Caxton puttis in hys buke owt of toyn 
The storm furth sent by Eolus and Neptune, 
Bot quha sa redis Virgill suythfastly 
Sall fynd Neptune salf Eneas navy. 
Me lyst nocht schaw quhou thystory of Dydo 
Be this Caxtoun is haill pervertit so 
That besyde quhar he fenys to follow Bocass, 
He rynnys sa fer from Virgill in mony place, 
On sa prolixt and tedyus fasson, 
So that the ferd buke of Eneadon, 
Twichand the lufe and ded of Dido queyn, 
The twa part of his volume doith conteyn 
That in the text of Virgill, trastis me, 
The twelt part scars contenys, as ȝe may se. 
The fyfte buke of the festis funerall, 
The lusty gamys and plays palustrall, 
That is ourhippit quyte and left behynd--- 
Na thing tharof ȝhe sall in Caxtoun fynd. 
The saxt buke eyk, he grantis, that wantis haill, 
And, for tharof he vnderstude nocht the taill, 
He callis it fenȝeit and nocht forto beleif; 
Sa is all Virgill perchans, for by hys leif 
Iuno nor Venus goddessis neuer wer, 
Mercur, Neptune, Mars nor Iupiter; 
Of Fortune eik nor hir necessite, 
Sik thingis nocht attentik ar, wait we, 
Nor ȝit admittis that quent philosophy 
Haldis sawlys hoppys fra body to body, 
And mony thingis quhilkis Virgill dyd reherss, 
Thocht I thame write furthfollowand hys verss. 
Nor Caxtoun schrynkis nocht siclyke thingis to tell 
As nocht war fabill bot the passage to hell, 
Bot trastis weill, quha that ilke saxt buke knew, 
Virgill tharin ane hie philosophour hym schew, 
And vnder the clowdis of dyrk poecy 
Hyd lyis thar mony notabill history--- 
For so the poetis be the crafty curys 
In similitudes and vndir quent figuris 
The suythfast materis to hyde and to constreyn; 
All is nocht fals, traste weill, in cace thai feyn. 
Thar art is so to mak thar warkis fair, 
As in the end of Virgill I sall declair. 
Was it nocht eik als possibill Eneas 
As Hercules or Theseus tyll hell to pass, 
Quhilk is na gabbyng suythly nor na lie, 
As Ihone Bocas in the Genealogie 
Of Goddys declarys, and lyke as ȝhe may reid 
In the Recolles of Troy quha lest tak hed. 
Quha wait gyf he in visioun thydder went 
By art magike, socery or enchantment, 
And with hys fader sawle dyd speke and meyt, 
Or in the lyknes with sum other spreit, 
Lyke as the spreit of Samuell, I gess, 
Raysit to Kyng Saul was by the Phitones? 
I will nocht say all Virgill beyn als trew 
Bot at syk thyngis ar possibill this I schew, 
Als in tha days war ma illusionys 
By dewillich warkis and coniurations 
Than now thar beyn, so doith clerkis determ, 
For blissit be God, the faith is now mair ferm. 
Enewch tharof; now will I na mor sayn 
Bot onto Caxtoun thus I turn agane. 
The namys of pepill or citeis beyn so bad 
Put by this Caxtoun that, bot he had beyn mad, 
The flude of Touyr for Tibir he had nocht write: 
All men may knaw thar he forvayt quyte. 
Palente the cite of Evander kyng, 
As Virgill playnly makis rehersyng, 
Stude quhar in Rome now stant the cheif palyce; 
This sam buke eyk in mair hepit malyce 
On the self ryver of Touyr says playnly 
Eneas dyd hys cyte edify. 
Thus ay for Tibir Touyr puttis he, 
Quhilk mony hundreth mylis syndry be, 
For sykkyrly, less than wyss authoris leyn, 
Ene saw nevir Touyr with hys eyn, 
For Touyr diuidis Grece from Vngary 
And Tibir is cheif flude of Italy, 
Touyr is kend a grayn of that ryver 
In Latyn hecht Danubium or Hyster--- 
Of gyf it be Tanais he clepis sa, 
That flude diuidis Europ from Asia. 
In lyke wyss eik this Caxtoun all invane 
Crispina clepis Sibilla Cumane, 
That in the text of Virgill, trastis ws, 
Hait Deiphebe douchtir of Glawcus, 
Quhilk was Eneas convoyar to hell. 
Quhat suld I langar on hys errouris dwell? 
Thai beyn so playn and eik sa monyfald 
The hundreth part tharof I leif ontald. 
The last sax bukis of Virgill all inferis, 
Quhilk contenys strang batalis and werys, 
This ilk Caxtoun so blaitly lattis ourslip 
I hald my tung for schame, bytand my lyp. 
The gret afferis of athir host and array, 
The armour of Eneas, fresch and gay, 
The quent and curyus castis poeticall, 
Perfyte symylitudis and exemplis all 
Quharin Virgill beris the palm of lawd, 
Caxtoun, for dreid thai suld hys lippis scald, 
Durst nevir twich. Thus schortly for the nanys. 
A twenty devill way fall hys wark atanys, 
Quhilk is na mair lyke Virgill, dar I lay, 
Than the nycht owle resemblis the papyngay. 
Quharfor, ȝou gentill redaris, I besich  
Traste on na wyss at this my wark be sich, 
Quhilk dyd my best, as the wyt mycht atteyn, 
Virgillis versys to follow and no thing feyn. 
ȝhe worthy noblys, redis my wark for thy 
And cast this other buke on syde far by, 
Quhilk vndir cullour of sum strange Franch wycht 
So Franchly leys, oneith twa wordis gais rycht. 
I nold ȝhe trast I said this for dispyte, 
For me lyst with nane Inglis bukis flyte, 
Na with na bogill nor browny to debait, 
Nowder ald gaistis nor spretis ded of lait, 
Nor na man will I lakkyn nor dispyss 
My warkis till authorys be sik wyss, 
Bot twichyng Virgillis honour and reuerens, 
Quha euer contrary, I mon stand at defens; 
And bot my buke be fundyn worth sik thre 
Quhen it is red, do warp it in the see, 
Thraw it in the fyre or rent it euery crum. 
Twichand that part, lo, heir is all and sum. 
Syne I defend and forbiddis euery wight  
That can nocht spell thar Pater Noster rycht 
Fortill correct or ȝit amend Virgill, 
Or the translatar blame in hys wlgar stile; 
I knaw quhat payn was to follow hym fut hait 
Albeit thou think my sayng intricate. 
Traste weill to follow a fixt sentens or mater 
Is mair practike, deficill and far strater, 
Thocht thyne engyne beyn eleuate and hie, 
Than forto write all ways at liberte. 
Gif I had nocht be to a boundis constrenyt, 
Of my bad wyt perchance I couth haue fenyt 
In ryme a ragment twyss als curyus, 
Bot nocht be twenty part so sentencyus. 
Quha is attachit ontill a staik, we se, 
May go na ferthir bot wreil about that tre: 
Rycht so am I to Virgillis text ybund, 
I may nocht fle less than my falt be fund, 
For thocht I wald transcend and go besyde, 
Hys wark remanys, my schame I may nocht hyde. 
And thus I am constrenyt als neir I may 
To hald hys verss and go nane other way, 
Less sum history, subtell word or the ryme 
Causith me mak digressioun sum tyme. 
So thocht in my translatioun eloquens skant is, 
Na lusty cast of oratry Virgill wantis; 
My studyus brayn to comprehend his sentens 
Leit me nevir taist hys flude of eloquens. 
And thus forsuyth becauss I was nocht fre, 
My werk is mair obscur and gross per de, 
Quharof, God wait, Virgill hass na wyte--- 
Thocht myne be blunt, hys text is maist perfyte. 
And ȝit persave I weill, be my consait 
The kyng of poetis ganys nocht for rurall estait 
Nor hys fresch memor for bowbardis; he or scho 
Quha takis me nocht go quhar thai haue ado--- 
The sonnys lycht is neuer the wers, traste me, 
All thocht the bak hys brycht bemys doith fle. 
Greyn gentill ingynys and breistis curageus, 
Sik ar the pepill at ganys best for ws; 
Our werk desiris na lewyt rebalddaill, 
Full of nobilite is thistory all haill. 
For euery vertu belangand a nobill man 
This ornate poet bettir than ony can 
Payntand discryvis in person of Eneas--- 
Not forto say sikane Eneas was 
it than by hym perfytely blasons he 
All wirschip, manhed and nobilite, 
With euery bonte belangand a gentill wycht, 
Ane prynce, ane conquerour or a valȝeand knycht. 
In luffis cuyr eneuch heir sall ȝhe fynd, 
And schortly Virgill left na thing behynd 
That mycht hys volume illummyn or crafty mak. 
Reid quha hym knawys, I dar this vndertak, 
Als oft as ȝe hym reid, full weill I wait, 
ȝhe fynd ilke tyme sum mery new consait. 
Thoght venerabill Chauser, principal poet but peir, 
Hevynly trumpat, orlege and reguler, 
In eloquens balmy, cundyt and dyall, 
Mylky fontane, cleir strand and royss ryall, 
Of fresch endyte, throu Albion iland braid, 
In hys legend of notabill ladeis said 
That he couth follow word by word Virgill, 
Wisar than I may faill in lakar stile. 
Sum tyme the text mon haue ane expositioun, 
Sum tyme the collour will causs a litill additioun, 
And sum tyme of a word I mon mak thre, 
In witnes of this term "oppetere." 
Eik weill I wait syndry expositouris seir 
Makis on a text sentens diuerss to heir, 
As thame apperis, accordyng thar entent, 
And for thar part schawis ressonys euident. 
All this is ganand, I will weill it swa be, 
Bot a sentens to follow may suffice me. 
Sum tyme I follow the text als neir I may, 
Sum tyme I am constrenyt ane other way. 
Besyde Latyn our langage is imperfite 
Quhilk in sum part is the causs and the wyte 
Quhy that of Virgillis verss the ornate bewte 
Intill our tung may nocht obseruyt be, 
For thar be Latyn wordis mony ane 
That in our leyd ganand translatioun hass nane 
Less than we mynyss thar sentens and grauyte 
And ȝit scant weill exponyt. Quha trewys nocht me, 
Lat thame interprit "animal" and "homo" 
With many hundreth other termys mo 
Quhilkis in our langage suythly as I weyn 
Few men can tell me cleirly quhat thai meyn. 
Betweyn "genus," "sexus" and "species" 
Diuersyte in our leid to seik I cess. 
For "obiectum" or "subiectum" alsswa 
He war expert couth fynd me termys twa, 
Quhilkis ar als ryfe amangis clerkis in scuyll 
As evir fowlis plungit in laik or puyll. 
Logicianys knawys heirin myne entent, 
Vndir quhais boundis lurkis mony strange went 
Quharof the process as now we mon lat be. 
Bot ȝit twychyng our tungis penuryte, 
I meyn into compar of fair Latyn 
That knawyn is maste perfite langage fyne, 
I mycht also percace cum lyddir speid 
For "arbor" and "lignum" intill our leid 
To fynd different proper termys twane 
And tharto put circumlocutioun nane. 
Richt so by aboutspech oftyn tymys 
And semabill wordis we compile our rymys. 
God wait in Virgill ar termys mony a hundir 
Fortill expone maid me a felloun blundir. 
To follow alanerly Virgilis wordis, I weyn, 
Thar suld few vndirstand me quhat thai meyn. 
The bewte of his ornate eloquens 
May nocht al tyme be kepit with the sentens. 
Sanct Gregor eik forbyddis ws to translait 
Word eftir word bot sentence follow algait: 
Quha haldis, quod he, "of wordis the properteis 
Full oft the verite of the sentens fleys." 
And to the sammyn purpos we may apply 
Horatius in hys Art of Poetry: 
Press nocht, says he, "thou traste interpreter, 
Word eftir word to translait thi mater." 
Lo, he reprevis and haldis myssemyng 
Ay word by word to reduce ony thing. 
I say nocht this of Chauser for offens, 
Bot till excuss my lewyt insufficiens, 
For as he standis beneth Virgill in gre, 
Vndir hym alsfer I grant my self to be. 
And netheless into sum place, quha kend it, 
My mastir Chauser gretly Virgill offendit. 
All thoch I be tobald hym to repreif, 
He was fer baldar, certis, by hys leif, 
Sayand he followit Virgillis lantern toforn, 
Quhou Eneas to Dydo was forsworn. 
Was he forsworn? Than Eneas was fals--- 
That he admittis and callys hym traytour als. 
Thus, wenyng allane Ene to haue reprevit, 
He hass gretly the prynce of poetis grevit, 
For, as said is, Virgill dyd diligens 
But spot of cryme, reproch or ony offens 
Eneas for to loif and magnyfy, 
And gif he grantis hym maynsworn fowlely, 
Than all hys cuyr and crafty engyne gais quyte, 
Hys twelf ȝheris laubouris war nocht worth a myte. 
Certis Virgill schawys Ene dyd na thing  
From Dydo of Cartage at hys departyng 
Bot quhilk the goddis commandit hym beforn, 
And gif that thar command maid hym maynsworn, 
That war repreif to thar diuinyte 
And na reproch onto the said Enee. 
Als in the first, quhar Ilioneus 
Spekis to the queyn Dido, says he nocht thus, 
That curss by fait was set tyll Italy? 
Thus mycht scho not pretend na iust causs quhy 
Thocht Troianys eftir departis of Cartage, 
Sen thai befor declaryt hir thar vayage. 
Reid the ferd buke quhar Queyn Dido is wraith, 
Thar sal ȝhe fynd Ene maid nevir aith, 
Promyt nor band with hir fortill abyde: 
Thus hym tobe maynsworn may nevir betyde, 
Nor nane onkyndnes schew forto depart 
At the bydding of Iove with reuthfull hart, 
Sen the command of God obey suld all 
And vndir his charge na wrangwyss deid may fall. 
Bot sikkyrly or resson me behufis 
Excuss Chauser fra all maner repruffis 
In lovyng of thir ladeis lylly quhite 
He set on Virgill and Eneas this wyte, 
For he was evir (God wait) all womanis frend. 
I say na mair, but, gentil redaris heynd, 
Lat all my faltis with this offens pass by. 
Thou prynce of poetis, I the mercy cry, 
I meyn thou Kyng of Kyngis, Lord Etern, 
Thou be my muse, my gydar and laid stern, 
Remittyng my trespass and euery myss 
Throu prayer of thy Moder, Queyn of Blyss. 
Afald godhed, ay lestyng but discrepans, 
In personys thre, equale, of a substans, 
On the I call, and Mary Virgyn myld--- 
Calliope nor payane goddis wild 
May do to me na thing bot harm, I weyn: 
In Criste is all my traste, and hevynnys queyn. 
Thou, Virgyn Moder and Madyn, be my muse, 
That nevir ȝit na synfull lyst refuss 
Quhilk the besocht deuotly for supple. 
Albeit my sang to thy hie maieste 
Accordis nocht, ȝit condiscend to my write, 
For the sweit liqour of thy pappis quhite 
Fosterit that Prynce, that hevynly Orpheus, 
Grond of all gude, our Saluyour Ihesus. 
Bot forthirmor, and lawar to discend 
Forgeif me, Virgill, gif I the offend. 
Pardon thy scolar, suffir hym to ryme 
Sen thou was bot ane mortal man sum tyme. 
In cace I faill, haue me not at disdenȝe, 
Thocht I be lewit, my leill hart can nocht fenȝe, 
I sall the follow; suld I tharfor haue blame, 
Quha can do bettir, sa furth in Goddis name. 
I schrynk nocht anys correkkit for tobe 
With ony wight grundit on cherite, 
And glaidly wald I baith inquire and leir 
And till ilke cunnand wight la to myne eyr. 
But laith me war but owther offens or cryme 
Ane brimell body suld intertrike my ryme. 
Thocht sum wald swer that I the text haue vareit, 
Or that I haue this volume quyte myscareit, 
Or threpe playnly that I come nevir neir hand it, 
Or at the wark is wers than evir I fand it, 
Or ȝit argue Virgill stude weill befor, 
As now war tyme to schift the werst our scor; 
Ellis haue I said thar may be na compar 
Betwix his versis and my stile wlgar. 
All thocht he stant in Latyn maist perfyte, 
ȝit stude he nevir weill in our tung endyte 
Less than it be by me now at this tyme. 
Gyf I haue falȝeit, baldly reprufe my ryme. 
Bot first, I pray ȝou, grape the mater cleyn, 
Reproche me nocht quhill the wark be ourseyn. 
Beis not ourstudyus to spy a moyt in myne e, 
That in ȝour awyn a ferry boyt can nocht se, 
And do to me as ȝhe wald be done to. 
Now hark, schirris, thar is na mair ado; 
Quha list attend, gevis audiens and draw neir, 
Me thocht Virgill begouth on this maner: 
I the ilk vmquhile that in the small ait reid 
Tonyt my sang, syne fra the woddis ȝeid 
And feildis about taucht tobe obesand 
(Thocht he war gredy) to the bissy husband, 
Ane thankfull wark maid for the plewchmanis art, 
Bot now the horribill stern dedys of Mart, 
The batalys and the man I will discryve. &c