George Buchanan, Sylvae 4: ‘Epithalamium’ (1558)
This is the big one: perhaps Buchanan’s most famous poem, certainly one of his longest — nearly 300 lines. It was occasioned by the 1558 marriage of Mary Queen of Scots and Francis, the French Dauphin (Francis became King of France in 1559 at the age of 15, when his father died in a jousting accident; he ruled until his own death, a year later). By the terms of the Châtillon agreement, back in January 1548, Mary had become betrothed to Francis when she was only five, and he was four. The five-year-old Mary was sent to be raised at the French court until the marriage. ‘She was tall for her age and eloquent,’ we are told, ‘and Francis was unusually short and stuttered.’ The official line was that they got on well, but their childhood growing-up together perhaps explains why Buchanan several times, in this poem, refers to them as ‘brother and sister’. The marriage took place in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris on 24th April 1558. There is some debate as to whether the union was ever consummated. The couple never had children, perhaps because of Francis’s undescended testicles, although perhaps ‘undescended testicles’ was a rumour that followed-on from the fact that the couple never had children, it’s hard to say. After Francis’s death Mary went on to marry twice more: first Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley (wed in 1565; he died 1567) — father of her son James, VI of Scotland and Ist of England — and thereafter James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell (married 1567; died 1578). Neither of these ended well.
Since it concerns a wedding, this poem was called Buchanan’s ‘Epithalamium’ (full title: ‘Francisci Valesi et Mariae Stuartae, Regum Franciae et Scotiae, Epithalamium’). Though written in 1558 it wasn’t published — as the fourth Sylvae (for more on the title ‘Sylvae’ see here) — until 1567 (by which time Mary was on her third husband), whereupon it soon established itself, despite its length and the longueurs of its opening section, as a classic statement of Scottish self-belief. In Waverley (1814), Scott describes the Baron of Baradwine of Tully-Veolan — Scottish patriot, Jacobite, fighter, spouter of Latin tags and misquotations, one of the novel’s most memorable and loved characters — thuswise:
Mr Bradwardine piqued himself upon stalking through life with the same upright, starched, stoical gravity which distinguished his evening promenade upon the terrace of Tully-Veolan. … As for literature, he read the classic poets, to be sure, and the “Epithalamium” of Georgius Buchanan, and Arthur Johnston’s Psalms, of a Sunday, and the “Deliciæ Poetarum Scotorum”. [Waverley, ch 13]
This the canon of properly ‘Scottish’ classical literature for a Scots gentleman of 1745. The parts of Buchanan’s ‘Epithalamium’ that Bradwardine particularly likes are the bits in part 4 that boast how warlike the Scots are, how ‘it is not moats and walls that protect this land, but warlike spirit’ [176], and how the Romans were so scared of the people of Scotland that they built Hadrian’s Wall to protect themselves (Bradwardine quotes Buchanan elsewhere in Waverley, and from this part of the poem). Gibbon’s Decline and Fall (1776) praises the way Buchanan ‘celebrates with elegance and spirit (see his Sylvae 5 [Gibbon means ‘4’]) the unviolated independence of his native country’. And so he does. Hugh MacDiarmid’s Golden Treasury of Scottish Poetry (Macmillan 1941) includes a prose version of a portion of this poem, and the portion MacDiarmid chooses is precisely this bit. MacDiarmid’s prose translation of his little excerpt is a little stilted, but his placement of the poem makes it clear he considers Buchanan’s ‘Epithalamium’ the first major Scottish poem in the canon.
Anyway, I had a go at translating this poem, in my usual manner (line by line). It took a while. I add this to my other versions of poems from Buchanan’s Sylvae (1567): Sylvae 2, Sylvae 3, the ‘Desiderium Lutetiae’ and Sylvae 6 ‘On the Horse’. That makes five (of seven). The remaining two will follow in due course.
I didn’t attempt to reproduce the hexameter metre of the original, opting instead for a basically hendecasyllabic line with a little prosodic push-and-shove in places. But line by line it is.
There are some notes at the end of this (very lengthy!) blogpost, following my version and the Latin original (which I post here in its entirety, in case you’re interested). Talking of which: I’ve rendered the opening line Unde repentino fremuerunt viscera motu? as ‘What is this unexpected inward murmur?’ More precisely the line means: ‘from whence come these sudden rumblings in my viscera/guts?’ … but I refuse to start a poem with the word whence.
+++
:1:
What is this unexpected inward murmur?
Why does Phoebus make my gasping heart, long quiet,
beat so hard? From Parnassus’s silent shade gods
come crowding from their caverns, singing hymns.
Before now I only recall a wilted laurel
a harp dumb, Phoebus sad, cithara-maker
Areas gloomy, the Muses deaf to my prayers.
But now Phoebus’s temple opens, Delphic heights
appear, the tripod sings from its sacred cave.
Now things improve! The laurel-crowned Muses [10]
come thronging, the Aonian river freely
waters Pimplea’s honoured fields forever
and glad Pierian woods glory again green.
Am I wrong? Francis, don’t these Camena Muses
shine for you? Wear garlands for you, lay your blooms
fresh in the temple? Once silent, from fear of Mars,
now they sing and dance for joy on Helicon!
And no one plucking these Aeonian fruits
is more worthy than you, through your ancestral
triumphs, and the Camena Muses’ praise: [20]
it’s the truth! And so, singing, applauding,
everyone roared together, all restraint dropped —
playtime! Hymen Hymenaeus! The chaste light
promised long ago, the golden light, is come,
is come. At last you have what you long desired
O, great youth of Hector’s line! No more complaints:
those frozen hopes, those long delays, blameworthy
impediments, the slow turn of the zodiac
as Cynthia drew-out the slow months of the year.
Delay’s great prize is yours — if won in former [30]
times, Menelaus wouldn’t have wept his snatched lover:
no violence, no slaughtered Trojans, Venus simply
paying Priam’s son the due of her known beauty.
A beauty worth stealing across the sea’s tides
in Paris’s fleet — and worth the war that brought her
back to Greece! You would have no less heart or heat
than these Trojans or Greeks if by force of arms
you had to defend your wife. But Venus was
kinder to you, her child’s soft indulgence
gifting to your home someone to love. From your [40]
earliest years this love grew with you. As youthful strength
developed, so much more did your sinews’ fire
insinuate sweet love through your growing vigour.
You weren’t troubled, though kings are often anxious
at heart, at tending a long-distance romance:
Nor did you fear that truth’s advance guard, rumour,
would overwhelm truth: former ages elevated
fame, but now it pledges honour to such beauty.
You’re not like wax, taking various docile shapes,
or hanging a trembling mind in doubts and fear: [50]
Nor did you write your silent sighs on paper
fearful of vague rumour and a pale shadow.
You yourself found and approved her beauty,
and moral worth. You did not promise your love
out of indignant lust that disdains the law,
imperious, or from mere youthful ardour:
but for her virtue, her prudence (greater than her years),
her decorous decency, sceptred modesty,
binding all in the mysterious bond of grace. [60]
Hope now supersedes doubt: dull cares — be gone!
Before your eyes you see promises approved:
your longed-for covenant ripening without anxiety,
and no falsely delusive dream-phantoms
from the lying face of night’s reproaching void.
You’re waiting for Hymen to join your right-hands
and, then, to embrace — soon you will be allowed
to kiss, and to do more than kiss: but what
you do you will moderate with spirit. Share
with us a blessed day, though night’s joys are yours
alone, all yours — though in fact nighttime’s joys [70]
are not only yours: it’s right we also rejoice
in your happiness. These vows are communal,
devotions made together at sacred altars,
we mingle our prayers, our hopes and fears, with yours
we share your affection: like you, we suffered at
long tedious delay. The gods are replete,
and report their joys: bliss reaches everyone
happiness, and minds roused with new delight
the very fibres of the heart rejoicing.
When Phoebus lifts his face from the eastern waves [80]
Clear seas and calm skies bring forth a golden day,:
the fields laugh when struck by the cusp of lovely
dawn, sea shimmering with trembling curls of light.
The cloudless air suspires with gentle breezes,
calmed by heaven’s laughing clement weather:
and if Aeolus should send austral winds
spread raincloud shadow between sky and earth,
the world’s face trembling with horror, grim fields
in mourning, waves swelling, gravid air brooding
over fields, black mists covering the blank sky —
so your people take their lead from you: joy, care, [90]
their grief follows yours, both those in the flush of
youth, and those who are closer to you in age:
the first indulge their joy with smiling faces
give themselves over to sports fit for young years;
those older, changing their harsher visages,
rejoice in the glad day, and mothers in awe
give voice here, whilst young virgins pray silently.
.
:2:
What can I say of everyone’s joyful thoughts?
Mother nature renews all things through her art
and exults, adding her share to your prestige. [100]
See now light radiates from the bright prime orb
an inexhaustible lamp for the whole earth
its brightness mitigating its fiery powers
to temperance — greeting your special day, eager,
showing its early face crimson in rising,
driving its chariot into western waves,
swinging closer to the icy north, its fire
shortening summer dark with sharp slivers of light.
The earth renews, veiling herself in green, [110]
as middling hills shadow the riverbanks and
harvest marks-out fields, painted flowers dot gardens.
The bristling wilderness doesn’t cease its growth —
no lack of the armed branches of bramble thorns,
nor the bird-rich apple-trees whose boughs sag fruit:
the horn of plenty copiously pours out
fruit, indulgently blessing the fertile year,
ensuring by these omens a good marriage.
.
:3:
Fortunate both, born at a happy time,
linked in wedlock! The concordia mundi [120]
fosters aspiring hopes, indulges your worth:
may it never be undermined by complaints!
Union of harmonies until the grey hairs come.
And (if Phoebus’ prophesy does not deceive me,
his compelling augury) blood undisseverable
via a common ancestor, long inheritance
solid bond of friendship — the old fashion
committed to the covenants of the laws: —
no day will come that tears your love apart.
Now you are lighted by auspicious torches, [130]
the people’s zealous endorsement, the kingdom’s
hopes and prayers call you — so step forward! and you,
you who came before, o kings! — true ancestors,
children of Hector! Embrace with all your mind
the wife legally given you, natural sister,
obedient to her sex, choosing your dominance,
a gift from her parents, your life companion,
combining bloodline, virtue, beauty, nubile age,
fidelity’s promise, set with a bond more
firmly tied in love fully interlinked. [140]
Since those goddesses agree to the wedding —
the divine ones Paris saw on shady Ida —
they permit your choice of conjugal partner.
What (when wanting more’s improper) do you wish
more? Does her exceptional beauty please you?
See her lofty brow, the lovely gracefulness
interfusing her form, how gently beauty’s flame
glitters in her eyes, how she brings together
grave maturity with a tender youthfulness,
sweetness and grace with majestic beauty. [150]
Nor does her beauty overshadow her love
for Pallas, but cultivating the Muses’ arts
she works tranquilly under Wisdom’s guidance.
.
:4:
If a pedigree of distinguished ancestry
is looked for: see — a hundred kings from one source:
count the sceptres! The one and only monarch,
to sum twice ten centuries of descent.
A realm alone, attacked often by other lands,
yet free from external dominion: whatever
famous stories from antiquity, whatever [160]
myths we hear, trust the historical record
compared to today. If dowry size matters,
accept as dowry these Scots warrior hearts!
I need not tell you of the fertile acres here,
the cattle-rich woodland, rivers rich with fish,
the mines gravid with copper and heavy lead,
and the mountains shining with gold and steel,
with rivers of metals flowing from these veins
for the common good of all the people.
Idle folk admire such things, spurning everything [170]
save wealth — those whose hearts are greedy for gain,
they slime everything with their gross poisons.
Arrow-filled quivers are Scotland’s real glory,
worn for hunting the woodlands, swimming across
rivers, enduring hunger, defying cold and fire;
Moats and walls don’t guard this land, but warlike spirit,
men defending honour even with their lives;
keeping sworn faith, revering what is sacred,
comrades for solidarity not salary.
Skills for a world in which war is always waged — [180]
no land’s ancestral laws immune from upset,
with so many overpowered, here was one folk
still rooted in its ancient ground of freedom.
Here the furious Goths were stopped, the harsh attack
of the Saxons — Danes and Saxons beaten, and
Norman Danes subjugated. Consult the old
unstinting histories, this is where victory is fixed.
Rome’s headlong march, that the mighty South Wind
could not repulse, nor Parthia’s rough untilled field,
not Egyptian heat, nor cold of Rhine or Elbe, [190]
nothing slowed the Roman march — until Scotland!
The one folk mountains couldn’t protect against
nor the banks of swift streams, nor thick forests,
nor vast open tracts — no, Rome exercised its power,
by building walls and ditches at its borders
to defend itself: elsewhere they drove armies
into homes, conquering, reducing men to base
slavery — here they merely defended the border
laying Roman walls against axe-wielding Scots.
All hope of progress ceased at Carron’s waters [200]
Terminus’s sign the limit of Ausonian rule.
And lest you think warriors unused to study,
not softening their breasts with the arts, know that
when barbarian Mars vexed the Latin world,
this land welcomed Muses all but expelled elsewhere.
Here lived the Wisdom of Greece, and lesser Rome:
the teachers and shapers of raw youth that
Charles brought to the Celts: that same Charles who moved
the fasces from Rome to France, brought Romulus’s
toga to the French — married and leagued to Scotland! [210]
Mars’s sword could not break this treaty, not riot
or sedition sever, no mad yen for rule,
time passing, nor any imaginable force,
an ever more holy closer covenant.
You may count their triumphs from that time, when
the world conspired to destroy, to wipe-out
the very name of France — without Scots soldiers
victory would never have shone on French camps.
When Hectors’ sons shed blood, so did the Scottish,
hard-pressed in hot combat: these things are common [220]
two nations’ fortunes one: when France was threatened
Scots turned back those swords. The warlike English know it,
fierce Batavians too. Phaethon’s sea testifies it,
and ill-starred Naples, more than once attacked.
This is your wife’s dowry, faith through the ages
joining your people in a social alliance,
auspicious wedlock, glad concord, an army
indomitable through many crises, happy
auguries for war and promise of future victory.
.
:5:
But you, Nymph, can be proud of your marriage, [230]
given you by Juno, fierce in waging war.
Venus and the Graces in their largesse
lavish their gifts on you: and he — lawful heir,
holding the reins of power and French hopes and wishes
only his father higher — should hand the royal sceptre
to you, declare you his lady with sweet words.
Accept your sex! A lady, kept from those reins:
so far yield power here and now in married life:
learn to bear the yoke, with your beloved spouse:
Learn to accept control, win through submission. [240]
See the ocean: waves indignant on the rocks
striking to smash the shore with swelling anger,
attacking the land, demolishing stormblast
grinding at the stony foundations of the world:
Yet where the soft earth is covered with sand
offering the sea-god its yielding pleasance
then these forces are tamed, and calmly diminish.
He’ll delight in the bedroom, not with turbid face,
not with threatening foam and roar, but serenely,
licking the shore harmlessly, slowly receding [250]
easily to-fro and, in softness snatching
little kisses, gentle waves upon the beach.
You see how, though weak, the ivy grows its leaves
high, pliant undulating stem fixed on strength
bit by bit intruding itself, close-clinging,
it bursts forth, and lifts its head up to the stars.
Rigidness bends, mollified by obedience,
and so love is retained. And leave behind you
concern for your home, longing for your mother:
this country is also your homeland: related, [260]
sharing much ancestry over many years:
and the longest succession of lucky kings —
your line — has retained the reins of power.
Wherever you look, or direct your steps,
nowhere’s empty of relatives: in every place
you find friends, and your illustrious nation
is memorialised. And as for the rest:
you are, here, with one who outmerits all others,
fairest of the sons of Hector, he waits for you,
almost a brother by your common descent: [270]
Soon to be a brother to be conquered by love,
you a mother, by proper consanguinity
defined by law, duty stronger than decrees:
and reverence for the mysteries of nature.
And (unless higher powers thwart our prayers,
or false credulity feed our hope in vain)
a son resembling his father, a daughter her mother,
will soon link blood in bonds of common love
strengthening them, and little arms will hug the neck
and gentle smiles banish all clouds of care. [280]
If fate grants me a long enough life, to see
the union of Caledonia and Gaul
duty-bound for centuries, pacts and law, brothers
subjects henceforth under one rule: — and though waves
and seas, and vast skies, wildernesses of land,
divide us, let harmony unite these folk,
harmony equal to heaven’s eternal flames.
+++
:1:
Unde repentino fremuerunt viscera motu?
Cur Phoebum desueta pati praecordia anhelus
Fervor agit, mutaeque diu Parnassidos umbrae
Turba iterum arcanis renovat Paeana sub antris?
Nuper enim, memini squalebat marcida laurus,
Muta chelys, tristis Phoebus, citharaeque repertor
Areas, et ad surdas fundebam vota sorores.
Nunc Phoebi delubra patent, nunc Delphica rupes
Panditur, et sacro cortina remugit ab antro.
Nunc lauro meliore comas innexa sororum [10]
Turba venit, nunc Aoniae non invida lymphae
Irrigat aeternos Pimplei ruris honores,
Laetaque Pieriae revirescit gloria silvae.
Fallimur? an nitidae tibi se, Francisce, Camoenae
Exornant? tibi serta parant, tibi flore recenti
Templa novant? mutumque diu formidine Martis
Gaudent insolitis celebrare Helicona choreis?
Scilicet haud alius nemoris decerpere fructus
Dignior Aonii, seu quem numerate triumphos
Forte juvat patrios, seu consecrata Camoenis [20]
Otia: sic certe est. Hinc laeto compita plausu
Cuncta fremunt: legumque exuta licentia frenos
Ludit: Hymen, Hymenaeus adest: lux ilia pudicis
Exoptata diu votis, lux aurea venit: Venit.
Habes tandem toties quod mente petisti,
O decus Hectoridum juvenis: jam pone querelas,
Desine spes nimium lentas, jam desine longas
Incusare moras, dum tardum signifer annum
Torqueat, ignavos peragat dum Cynthia menses.
Grande morae pretium fers: quod si prisca tulissent [30]
Secula, non raptos flesset Menelaus amores,
Et sine vi, sine caede Phrygum Cytherea probatae
Solvere Priamidse potuisset praemia formae.
Digna quidem facies, quam vel trans aequoris aestus
Classe Paris rapiat, vel conjurata reposcat
Graecia: nec minus est animi tibi, nec minor ardor
Quam Phrygio Grajove duci, si postulet arma
Conjugii tutela tui. Sed mitior in te
Et Venus, et teneri fuit indulgentia nati,
Qui quod ames tribuere domi: puerilibus annis [40]
Coeptus amor tecum crevit: quantumque juventae
Viribus accessit, tanto se flamma per artus
Acrius insinuans tenerum pascebat amorem.
Non tibi cura fuit, quae saepius anxia Regum
Pectora sollicitat, longinquae obnoxia flammae:
Nec metus is torsit, veri praenuntia fama
Ne vero majora ferat, dum secula prisca
Elevat, et primum formae tibi spondet honorem:
Cera nec in varias docilis transire figuras
Suspendit trepidam dubia formidine mentem: [50]
Nec tua commisti tacitis suspiria chartis,
Rumorisque vagam timuisti pallidus umbram.
Ipse tibi explorator eras, formaeque probator,
Et morum testis. Nec conciliavit amorem
Hunc tibi luxuries legum indignata teneri
Imperio, aut primis temerarius ardor ab annis:
Sed sexu virtus, annis prudentia major,
Et decori pudor, et conjuncta modestia sceptris,
Atque haec cuncta ligans arcano gratia nexu. [60]
Spes igitur dubiae, lentaeque facessite curae.
Ipse tuis oculis tua vota tuere, probasque:
Speratosque leges sine sollicitudine fructus,
Nullaque fallacis delusus imagine somni
Irrita mendaci facies convicia nocti.
Exspectatus Hymen jamjunget foedere dextras,
Mox etiam amplecti, mox et geminare licebit
Basia, mox etiam non tantum basia: sed tu,
Quamlibet approperes, animo moderate: beatum
Nobiscum partite diem, tu gaudia noctis
Solus tota feres: quanquam neque gaudia noctis [70]
Solus tota feres: et nos communiter aequum est
Laetitiam gaudere tuam: communia vota
Fecimus, et sacras pariter placavimus aras,
Miscuimusque preces, et spesque metusque tuosque
Sensimus affectus: aegre tecum hausimus una
Taedia longa morae. Superi nunc plena secundi
Gaudia cum referant, sensus pervenit ad omnes
Laetitiae, mentemque ciens renovata voluptas
Crescit, et exsultant trepidis praecordia fibris.
Qualis ubi Eois Phoebus caput extulit undis [80]
Purus, et auratum non turbidus extulit axem,
Cuspide jucundae lucis percussa renident
Arva, micat tremulo crispatus lumine pontus,
Lenibus aspirat flabris innubilus aer,
Blanda serenati ridet dementia coeli:
At si nubiferos effuderit Aeolus Austros,
Et pluviis gravidam coelo subtexuit umbram,
Moesta horret rerum facies, deformia lugent
Arva, tument fluctus, campis gravis incubat aer,
Torpet et obductum picea caligine coelum: [90]
Sic ex te populus suspensus, gaudia, curas,
Moeroresque trahit: rosea nec sola juventa
Florida, nec spatiis quae te propioribus aetas
Insequitur, genio indulgent, vultuque soluto
Lusibus exhilarant aptos juvenilibus annos;
Hunc posita vultus gravitate severior aetas
Laetatur celebrare diem, matresque verendae
Non tacito hunc, tacitoque optat virguncula voto.
:2:
Quid loquar humanas admittere gaudia mentes?
Ipsa parens rerum totos renovata per artus [100]
Gestit, et in vestros penitus conspirat honores.
Aspice jam primum radiati luminis orbem
Semper inexhausta lustrantem lampade terras,
Ut niteat, blanda ut flagrantes mitiget ignes
Temperie, ut cupidos spectacula vestra tueri
Purpureo vultus maturior exserat ortu,
Serius occiduas currus demittat in undas,
Ut gelidos repetens flamma propiore triones
Contrahat aestivas angusta luce tenebras.
Ipsa etiam tellus virides renovatur amictus, [110]
Et modo pampineas meditatur collibus umbras,
Et modo messe agros, modo pingit floribus hortos:
Horrida nec tenero cessant mansuescere foetu
Tesqua, nec armati spina sua brachia vepres,
Nec curvare feros pomis aviaria ramos:
Inque omnes frugum facies bona copia cornu
Solvit, et omniferum beat indulgentior annum,
Pignoris hoc spondens felices omine taedas.
:3:
Fortunati ambo, et felici tempore nati,
Et thalamis juncti! vestram concordia mundi [120]
Spem fovet, aspirat votis, indulget honori:
Atque utinam nullis unquam labefacta querelis
Conjugium hoc canos concordia servet in annos.
Et (mihi ni vano fallax praecordia Phoebus
Impulit augurio) quem jungit sanguinis ortus,
Et commune genus proavum, serieque perenni
Foedus amicitiae solidum, quem more vetusto
Sancta verendarum committunt foedera legum,
Nulla dies unquam vestrum divellet amorem.
Vos quoque felici lucent quibus omine taedae, [130]
Quo studium, populique favor, quo publica regni
Vota precesque vocant, alacres accedite: tuque
Tu prior O Reges non ementite parentes,
Hectoride juvenis, tota complectere mente
Quam dedit uxorem tibi lex, natura sororem,
Parentem imperio sexus, dominamque voluntas,
Quam sociam vitae tibi conjunxere parentes,
Et genus, et virtus, et forma, et nubilis aetas,
Et promissa fides, et qui tot vincula nectens
Firmius arctat amor totidem per vincula nexus. [140]
Si tibi communi assensu connubia Divae
Annuerent, Paris umbrosa quas vidit in Ida,
Permittantque tuo socias tibi jungere taedas
Arbitrio, quid jam, voti licet improbus, optes
Amplius? Eximiae delectat gratia formae?
Aspice quantus honos frontis, quae gratia blandis
Interfusa genis, quam mitis flamma decoris
Fulguret ex oculis, quam conspirarit amico
Foedere cum tenera gravitas matura juventa,
Lenis et augusta cum majestate venustas. [150]
Pectora nec formae cedunt exercita curis
Palladiis, et Pierias exculta per artes
Tranquillant placidos Sophia sub praeside mores.
:4:
Si series generis longusque propaginis ordo
Quaeritur: haec una centum de stirpe nepotes
Sceptriferos numerate potest, haec regia sola est,
Quae bis dena suis includat secula fastis;
Unica vicinis toties pulsata procellis,
Externi immunis domini: quodcunque vetustum
Gentibus in reliquis vel narrat fama, vel audit [160]
Fabula, longaevis vel credunt secula fastis,
Huc compone, novum est. Ampla si dote moveris,
Accipe dotales Mavortia pectora Scotos.
Nec tibi frugiferae memorabo hic jugera glebae,
Aut saltus pecore, aut foecundas piscibus undas,
Aut aeris gravidos et plumbi pondere sulcos,
Et nitidos auro montes, ferroque rigentes,
Deque metalliferis manantia flumina venis,
Quaeque beant alias communia commoda gentes.
Haec vulgus miretur iners, quique omnia spernunt [170]
Praeter opes, quibus assidue sitis acris habendi-
Tabifico oblimat praecordia crassa veneno.
Ilia pharetratis est propria gloria Scotis,
Cingere venatu saltus, superare natando
Flumina, ferre famem, contemnere frigora et aestus;
Nec fossa et muris patriam, sed Marte tueri,
Et spreta incolumem vita defendere famam;
Polliciti servare fidem, sanctumque vereri
Numen amicitiae, mores, non munus amare.
Artibus his, totum fremerent cum bella per orbem, [180]
Nullaque non leges tellus mutaret avitas
Externo subjecta jugo, gens una vetustis
Sedibus antiqua sub libertate resedit.
Substitit hie Gothi furor, hie gravis impetus haesit
Saxonis, hic Cimber superato Saxone, et acri
Perdomito Neuster Cimbro. Si volvere priscos
Non piget annales, hic et victoria fixit
Praecipitem Romana gradum: quem non gravis Auster
Reppulit, incultis non squalens Parthia campis,
Non aestu Meroe, non frigore Rhenus et Albis [190]
Tardavit, Latium remorata est Scotia cursum:
Solaque gens mundi est, cum qua non culmine montis,
Non rapidi ripis amnis, non objice silvae,
Non vasti spatiis campi Romana potestas,
Sed muris fossaque sui confinia regni
Munivit: gentesque alias cum pelleret armis
Sedibus, aut victas vilem servaret in usum
Servitii, hic contenta suos defendere fines
Roma securigeris praetendit moenia Scotis:
Hie spe progressus posita, Carronis ad undam [200]
Terminus Ausonii signat divortia regni.
Neve putes duri studiis assueta Gradivi
Pectora mansuetas non emollescere ad artes,
Haec quoque, cum Latium quateret Mars barbarus orbem,
Sola prope expulsis fuit hospita terra Camoenis.
Hinc Sophias Grajas, Sophias decreta Latinae,
Doctoresque rudis formatoresque juventae
Carolus ad Celtas traduxit: Carolus idem
Qui Francis Latios fasces, trabeamque Quirini
Ferre dedit Francis, conjunxit foedere Scotos: [210]
Foedere, quod neque Mars ferro, nec turbida possit
Solvere seditio, aut dominandi insana cupido,
Nec series aevi, nec vis ulla altera, praeter
Sanctius et vinclis foedus propioribus arctans.
Tu licet ex illa numeres aetate triumphos,
Et conjuratum cunctis e partibus orbem
Nominis ad Franci exitium, sine milite Scoto
Nulla unquam Franci fulsit victoria castris,
Nulla unquam Hectoridas sine Scoto sanguine clades
Saevior oppressit: tulit haec communiter omnes [220]
Fortunae gens una vices: Francisque minantes
Saepe in se vertit gladios. Scit belliger Anglus,
Scit ferus hoc Batavus, testis Phaethontias unda,
Nec semel infaustis repetita Neapolis armis.
Hanc tibi dat conjux dotem, tot secula fidam
Conjunctamque tuis sociali foedere gentem,
Auspicium felix thalamis concordibus, armis
Indomitos populos per tot discrimina, felix
Auspicium bellis, venturaeque omina palmae.
:5:
At tu conjugio, Nymphe, dignata superbo, [230]
Te licet et Juno, et bellis metuenda virago,
Et Venus, et Charitum larga indulgentia certet
Muneribus decorate suis, licet ille secundus
Spe votisque hominum Francae moderator habenae
Et solo genitore minor, tibi Regia sceptra
Submittat, blando et dominam te praedicet ore,
Sexum agnosce tamen, dominaeque immunis habenae
Hactenus imperio jam nunc assuesce jugali:
Disce jugum, sed cum dilecto conjuge, ferre:
Disce pati imperium, victrix patiendo futura. [240]
Aspicis Oceanum saxa indignatus ut undis
Verberet, et cautes tumida circumfremat ira:
Rupibus incursat, demoliturque procellis
Fundamenta terens, scopulisque assultat adesis:
Ast ubi se tellus molli substravit arena,
Hospitioque Deum blande invitavit amoeno,
Ipse domat vires, placidusque et se minor ire
In thalamos gaudet non torvo turbidus ore,
Non spumis fremituque minax, sed fronte serena
Littus inoffensum lambit, sensimque relabens [250]
Arrepit facilis cerni, et, ceu mollia captet
Oscula, ludentes in littore lubricat undas.
Cernis ut infirmis hedera enitatur in altum
Frondibus, et molli serpens in robora flexu
Paullatim insinuet sese, et complexibus haerens
Emicet, et mediis pariter caput inserat astris.
Flectitur obsequio rigor, obsequioque paratur,
Et retinetur amor. Neu te jactura relictae
Sollicitet patriae, desideriumque parentis:
Haec quoque terra tibi patria est, hie stirpe propinqui, [260]
Hic generis pars magna tui, multosque per annos
Fortunatorum series longissima Regum,
Unde genus ducis, rerum moderatur habenas.
Quoquo oculos vertes, quoquo vestigia flectes,
Cognatis pars nulla vacat, locus exhibet omnis
Aut generis socios, aut fastis inclyta gentis
Ostentat monumenta tuae. Jam ut caetera mittam,
Hic te, qui cunctis merito praeponderat unus,
Exspectat longe pulcherrimus Hectoridarum,
Pene tibi stirpis communis origine frater: [270]
Mox etiam fratrem quod vincat amore futurus,
Et matrem, et quicquid consanguinitate verendum
Lex facit, et legum quam jussa valentior ulla,
Naturae arcanos pulsans reverentia sensus.
Hic quoque (ni justis obsistent numina votis,
Falsaque credulitas frustra spem nutrit inanem)
Filius ore patrem referens, et filia matrem
Sanguine communi vinclum communis amoris
Firmabunt, brevibusque amplexi colla lacertis
Discutient blando curarum nubila risu. [280]
Hunc vitae mihi fata modum concedite, donec
Juncta Caledoniae tot seclis Gallia genti
Officiis, pactisque, et legum compede, fratrum
Subdita dehinc sceptris animo coalescat: et undis
Quos mare, quos vastis coelum spatiisque solumque
Dividit, hos populum concordia nectat in unum,
Aequaeva aeternis coeli concordia flammis.
+++
- [1] The opening line, Unde repentino fremuerunt viscera motu? more precisely means: ‘from whence come these sudden rumblings in my viscera/guts?’ … but, as I say above, I refuse to start a poem with the word whence. Since fremo means ‘I murmur, mutter, grumble, growl’, and sometimes ‘I roar, growl, hum, rumble, buzz, howl, snort, rage, murmur, mutter’ and since viscera are, clearly, guts, I can’t shake the sense that Buchanan is playing with some kind of flatulent or gurgly-tummy hidden joke here. It wouldn’t exactly be fitting for a dignified, heroizing poem about a royal wedding. But perhaps that’s the point.
- [12] Pimplei: ‘Muse of Pimplea’, a place and fountain in Pieria near Mt. Olympus, sacred to the Muses.
- [15, 20] The Camenae were originally four goddesses devoted to childbirth and fertility, wells and fountains; but in later Roman usage they became identified with the Muses (‘In his translation of Homer’s Odyssey, Livius Andronicus rendered the Greek word Mousa as Camena and Horace refers to poetic inspiration as the ‘soft breath of the Greek Camena’ spiritum Graiae tenuem Camenae in Odes II.16.’)
- [39] Venus’s child, of course, is Cupid.
- [120] ‘Concordia Mundi’, ‘worldly harmony’, ‘concord of the world’, was the great slogan of Guillaume Postel (1510–1581) French professor, polyglot and writer, whom Buchanan knew from his time at the University of Paris. Postel’s ‘passionate concern’ was (in the words of Marjorie Reeves) ‘to bring all the peoples of all faiths into one fold and to restore the whole creation to its pristine glory. The two points are brought together in his manifesto to the Emperor Ferdinand in 1560: “led by the mater mundi who is right reason, the Christian Republic may be preserved by a universal empire which will enable the teachings of the Christian religion to be set forth. In this way Christ will be seen to restore as much as Satan has destroyed and it will be as though Adam had never sinned.” To accomplish this concordia mundi there must be a tremendous world-wide missionary effort, involving attempts to rationalise the Christian faith as well as the study of many languages. Alongside this, however, there must be a great campaign of arms to bring the whole world under one sway.’ Postel imagined a world-state ruled by a triumvirate: a sovereign pope, sovereign king and sovereign judge, advocating ‘religious unity in one synthensized world religion, social unity through the abolition of private property, and cultural unity as expressed in the abolition of separate languages’. [Marjorie Reeves, The Influence of Prophecy in the Later Middle Ages: A Study in Joachimism (OUP 1969), 480]. See also William James Bouwsma, Concordia Mundi: The Career and Thought of Guillaume Postel (Harvard University Press 1957)
- [135] ‘natural sister’ or ‘nature’s sister’ (natura sororem) is a puzzle. It rather looks as though Buchanan is styling Francis and Mary, somewhat incestuously, as brother and sister. Paul J. McGinnis and Arthur H. Williamson [in their edited volume Buchanan: the Political Poetry (Edinburgh: Scottish History Society/Lothian Print, 1995] suggest that this might be a dynastic thing (siblings in royalty as king and queen or something). They also note that eighteenth-century English translations of the poem changed this to ‘cousin’. But perhaps the point is not to link Mary to Francis as sister, but — precisely — to link Mary to nature. Alan de Lille called music ‘natura sororem’, the sister of nature, in the Anticlaudianus (1160) 3:391
- [179] The Latin is mores, non munus amare. Hard to keep the wordplay in English here: mūnus means ‘a service, office, employment’ and sometimes ‘a burden, duty, obligation a service’, where mores (plural of mōs) means ‘morals, principles’. The idea is these men are comrades — brothers in arms — for reasons of honour and principle, not because they are employed (paid like mercenaries) to be so. I’ve tried to capture this in the English. I’m not sure I have.
- [184] Goths — not the Visigoths and Ostrogoths of southern and eastern Europe (who never attempted to invade Britain) but the Latin Gothi, from Gothus, an inhabitant of Gotland in Sweden. Which is to say: Vikings. In the following line the Cimbri are a tribe located by the Romans in northern Germany: it became a way of indicating Danes.
- [201] ‘Ausonian’ is a fancy, Vergilian way of saying ‘Roman’. But I’m puzzled by ‘Carron’s wave’: ‘Carronis ad undam, ‘at the waters of Carron’ [as the place where the god Terminus sets the boundary of Rome etc]. The river Carron, which flows into Loch Carron, is way too far north for this to be the boundary point: it’s on the western coast north of the Isle of Skye. The reference here ought to be the Tyne, or perhaps the Esk. I don’t understand what Buchanan means. [The 1687 ed has ‘Coronis’, not Carronis, but since this can’t, either metrically or in terms of sense, be corōnīs [the dative/ablative plural of corona, ‘crown’] it must mean: a colophon — corōnis ‘the end of a book or chapter, the colophon marking such an end’. This seems to me an attempt at emendation, but not a very good one: why would this colophon be wet?)]
- [208] Charles = Charlemagne
- [259] The Latin is parēns, parent, rather than mother (māter, which wouldn’t fit the metre here); but by this stage Mary only had one parent left, her father having died when she was six days old. The reference here is to her mother Mary of Guise (1515–1560), the French noblewoman who became second wife of King James V. She ruled Scotland as queen regent on her daughter’s behalf from 1554 until her death in 1560 (Mary married Francis in 1558).
- [267] The Latin here is monumenta. Paul J. McGinnis and Arthur H. Williamson (op cit) are a little baffled by this reference: ‘it is not clear what Buchanan has in mind. Books? Battlefields?’ Given that monumentum means primarily ‘reminder, memorial’ and only secondarily ‘monument’ in the modern English sense, I presume Buchanan means: Mary in France will see Scottish people, hear Scots spoken and so on.
