The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun printed on parallel pages from the Cottonian and Wemyss mss., with the variants of the other texts: Edited with introduction, notes, and glossary by F. J. Amours |
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| XCII. | CHAPTER XCII. |
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 | CHAPTER XCII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
448
CHAPTER XCII.
How our Lady gert a ded knycht sla
Iuliane the Appostata.
Iuliane the Appostata.
Thre hundreth five and fourty ȝere
Eftire þe birth of oure Lord deire,
Off Constantyne þe sonnys thre,
Off þame befor reherss herd ȝe,
In this tyme to þe [empire] raiss.
Constantyne þe eldest was,
Syne Constantyne and Constantius;
Thire thre breþer were hattin thus.
Amang þaim self gret weire þai maid,
Quhare throu þe Romanis harmys had,
All throu þair weire and þair fechting,
That endorit and had lesting
Full foure and twenty ȝere,
That þe Romanis neire waistit were.
Bot þe eldest Constantyne
Wes fra his twa breþer syne
Haill þe emperour, and wes þan
Emperour and gud Cristin man.
The ȝoungest of þe breþer thre,
That Constantius eere callit we,
Had with him men of counsall fell,
That were in ded wonder cruell;
Thai þe elder brother slew.
Constantius þe empyre drew,
And gouernyt it with gret stoutnes;
Bot a fals erratik he wes,
And liffit all in to þat fay
That Arryus taucht in his day;
For him in his opinioun
He maid ay gret defensioun.
At Constantinople, quhare he had
His duelling and his prechis maid,
For his opinioun þe clergy
Gert him be summond rycht straitly,
To heire þe condampnatioun
Off his fals oponyoune.
And sa on a certane set day,
That for þat causs assignyt [thai],
As þis Arryus him sped
To þat certane assignyt steid,
O neid sa he oure takin wes
That him behuffit to do his eiss;
With harde þare he tuke his set
All planely þare in to þe mercat,
Thare thrawand throe sa hard he thristit
Till his bowellis within him bristit,
His guttis þare, baith gret and small,
And his condittis opinnit all.
For þe stynk of his foull gare
Mony þat about him ware
Bristit þare to deid, and þus
Endit þis foull Arryus.
Eftire þe birth of oure Lord deire,
Off Constantyne þe sonnys thre,
Off þame befor reherss herd ȝe,
In this tyme to þe [empire] raiss.
Constantyne þe eldest was,
Syne Constantyne and Constantius;
Thire thre breþer were hattin thus.
Amang þaim self gret weire þai maid,
Quhare throu þe Romanis harmys had,
All throu þair weire and þair fechting,
That endorit and had lesting
Full foure and twenty ȝere,
That þe Romanis neire waistit were.
Bot þe eldest Constantyne
Wes fra his twa breþer syne
Haill þe emperour, and wes þan
Emperour and gud Cristin man.
The ȝoungest of þe breþer thre,
That Constantius eere callit we,
Had with him men of counsall fell,
That were in ded wonder cruell;
Thai þe elder brother slew.
Constantius þe empyre drew,
450
Bot a fals erratik he wes,
And liffit all in to þat fay
That Arryus taucht in his day;
For him in his opinioun
He maid ay gret defensioun.
At Constantinople, quhare he had
His duelling and his prechis maid,
For his opinioun þe clergy
Gert him be summond rycht straitly,
To heire þe condampnatioun
Off his fals oponyoune.
And sa on a certane set day,
That for þat causs assignyt [thai],
As þis Arryus him sped
To þat certane assignyt steid,
O neid sa he oure takin wes
That him behuffit to do his eiss;
With harde þare he tuke his set
All planely þare in to þe mercat,
Thare thrawand throe sa hard he thristit
Till his bowellis within him bristit,
His guttis þare, baith gret and small,
And his condittis opinnit all.
For þe stynk of his foull gare
Mony þat about him ware
Bristit þare to deid, and þus
Endit þis foull Arryus.
452
Donat [þan] wes in his stait,
And in þat tyme his buke he wrait,
And now childer vsis it to leire
At þair begynning of þair gramere;
And Sanct Ierome in þai ȝeris
Wes callit þe best of his scoleris.
And in þat tyme his buke he wrait,
And now childer vsis it to leire
At þair begynning of þair gramere;
And Sanct Ierome in þai ȝeris
Wes callit þe best of his scoleris.
Off Sanct Andro þe body wes
Translatit that tyme fra Patras
To Constantynople, and Sanct Luke
Translatit þidder, as sais þe buke.
Translatit that tyme fra Patras
To Constantynople, and Sanct Luke
Translatit þidder, as sais þe buke.
And Iuliane þe Appostata,
That efter wes emperour alsua,
In ane abbay monk him maid,
For dreid of Constantius he had
That he wald him to deid haif done;
Bot ȝit he changeit purposs sone,
For all þe tyme fra land to land
In monkis habit he wes wannand;
For he wes to gud Constantyne
His brother sone and neire cosyne,
He ȝarnyt till haue bene emperoure,
And ay travalit to þat honour;
And forthy, quhare euer he past,
At wychis and at spamen fast
He sperit thraly gif þat he
Mycht euer optene to þat degre.
In liknes þan of a spaman
The deuill apperit and him said than
That he suld be haill emperour,
And gert him fall in sic errour
That he away kest fra him quyt
The monkis rewill and þe habit,
And throu that deuillis suggestioun
He maid renunciatioun
Off bapteme and of Cristin fay,
And liffit furþ in [pagane] lay.
That efter wes emperour alsua,
In ane abbay monk him maid,
For dreid of Constantius he had
That he wald him to deid haif done;
Bot ȝit he changeit purposs sone,
For all þe tyme fra land to land
In monkis habit he wes wannand;
For he wes to gud Constantyne
His brother sone and neire cosyne,
He ȝarnyt till haue bene emperoure,
And ay travalit to þat honour;
And forthy, quhare euer he past,
At wychis and at spamen fast
He sperit thraly gif þat he
Mycht euer optene to þat degre.
In liknes þan of a spaman
The deuill apperit and him said than
That he suld be haill emperour,
And gert him fall in sic errour
454
The monkis rewill and þe habit,
And throu that deuillis suggestioun
He maid renunciatioun
Off bapteme and of Cristin fay,
And liffit furþ in [pagane] lay.
Than raiss he emperoure in þe steid
Off Constantius quhen he wes deid,
Bot quhow he gat þat dignite
Throu similatioun and subtilite,
To tell it it were oure prolixt;
Forthy now will I tell þe text.
For ire and fellony þat he had
Till Cristin men gret lawis he maid
Agane Cristindome, that mony
Wnder him deit throu martery;
Iohne and Paull þair passioun
Tholit vnder his persecutioun.
Off Constantius quhen he wes deid,
Bot quhow he gat þat dignite
Throu similatioun and subtilite,
To tell it it were oure prolixt;
Forthy now will I tell þe text.
For ire and fellony þat he had
Till Cristin men gret lawis he maid
Agane Cristindome, that mony
Wnder him deit throu martery;
Iohne and Paull þair passioun
Tholit vnder his persecutioun.
The kinrikis of Mede and of Perss,
And Asy, as I herd reherss,
He wan till his subiectioun,
And tuke þare contributioun.
Throu Capadoce syne at he past
Sanct Basyly he awowit fast,
That bischop wes of þat land þan,
And wes of lif a haly man.
This Iuliane maid in to þat quhile
Gret manans to Sanct Basile,
And till vther Cristin men
That vnder his pouste liffit þen;
And þis Sanct Basile specially
Maid his prayere to oure Lady,
With thra and gret deuocioun,
In fasting and in vrysoune,
That scho suld sum vengeance ta
Off Iuliane þat Appostata.
Sa slepand on a nycht him thocht
All sodanely þat he wes brocht
Within a kirk of oure Lady,
Quhare men and women were mony,
Sum on kneis in vrisoun,
And sum in contemplatioun.
This haly bischop Sanct Basile
Slepand saw in to þat quhile
The ymage of our Lady brycht
Doune fra a tabernakle lycht,
That outwith ane altare standand was,
And tuke her raik with mesoure paise
But in þat kirk, withoutin baid,
Quhare þat a graif of new wes maid;
Thare in wes lyand a deid knycht,
Mercurius to name he hecht,
Quham Iuliane þis Appostata
For Crist a litill befor gert sla.
Sanct Basile herd oure Lady say
To Sanct Mercury that þar lay:
“Ryss, Mercurius, ryss and sla
Fals Iuliane þe Appostata;
Revengeance þov sall tak now tyte
Off þe defoull and þe despite
At þat fals erratike has done
Baith to me and to my sone.”
With þat þe ymage als fast
Off oure Lady agane past,
And in hir tabernakle ȝeid;
And þe deid knycht raiss gud speid,
And tuke a speire in till his hand,
That by þe graif wes þan lyand,
And rakit of þe kirk his way.
And as þe legend tellis perfay,
That, as this tyrand Iuliane
Wes rydand forouth his oste ilkane,
Marcurius smat him with his speire
Throu out þe hert, and slew him there.
Bot þare wes nane þat saw þis sycht,
Bot Sanct Basyle, þat bischop rycht,
That wakand efter þat rycht lay
Till on þe morne at it wes day;
Than herd he tell that Iuliane
With sudane dede wes þan ourtane;
Than went he to the kirk in hy,
And þare þe spere he fand bludy;
[Than] wist he weill þat of Iuliane
Wengeance throu his prayere wes tane.
And Asy, as I herd reherss,
He wan till his subiectioun,
And tuke þare contributioun.
Throu Capadoce syne at he past
Sanct Basyly he awowit fast,
That bischop wes of þat land þan,
And wes of lif a haly man.
This Iuliane maid in to þat quhile
Gret manans to Sanct Basile,
And till vther Cristin men
That vnder his pouste liffit þen;
456
Maid his prayere to oure Lady,
With thra and gret deuocioun,
In fasting and in vrysoune,
That scho suld sum vengeance ta
Off Iuliane þat Appostata.
Sa slepand on a nycht him thocht
All sodanely þat he wes brocht
Within a kirk of oure Lady,
Quhare men and women were mony,
Sum on kneis in vrisoun,
And sum in contemplatioun.
This haly bischop Sanct Basile
Slepand saw in to þat quhile
The ymage of our Lady brycht
Doune fra a tabernakle lycht,
That outwith ane altare standand was,
And tuke her raik with mesoure paise
But in þat kirk, withoutin baid,
Quhare þat a graif of new wes maid;
Thare in wes lyand a deid knycht,
Mercurius to name he hecht,
Quham Iuliane þis Appostata
For Crist a litill befor gert sla.
Sanct Basile herd oure Lady say
To Sanct Mercury that þar lay:
458
Fals Iuliane þe Appostata;
Revengeance þov sall tak now tyte
Off þe defoull and þe despite
At þat fals erratike has done
Baith to me and to my sone.”
With þat þe ymage als fast
Off oure Lady agane past,
And in hir tabernakle ȝeid;
And þe deid knycht raiss gud speid,
And tuke a speire in till his hand,
That by þe graif wes þan lyand,
And rakit of þe kirk his way.
And as þe legend tellis perfay,
That, as this tyrand Iuliane
Wes rydand forouth his oste ilkane,
Marcurius smat him with his speire
Throu out þe hert, and slew him there.
Bot þare wes nane þat saw þis sycht,
Bot Sanct Basyle, þat bischop rycht,
That wakand efter þat rycht lay
Till on þe morne at it wes day;
Than herd he tell that Iuliane
With sudane dede wes þan ourtane;
Than went he to the kirk in hy,
And þare þe spere he fand bludy;
[Than] wist he weill þat of Iuliane
Wengeance throu his prayere wes tane.
Sanct Martyne þan wes in his flouris,
And vthere sindry confessouris;
And this Sanct Martyne wes a knycht
Off þis Iuliane, bot in ficht
He fauorit euer Cristin men,
Till he came cristinnit, as ȝe ken.
Till him þan wes contemporane
In Scotland Sanct Niniane,
In to þe tyme þat Sanct Mertyne wes,
And led his lit in halynes.
And vthere sindry confessouris;
And this Sanct Martyne wes a knycht
Off þis Iuliane, bot in ficht
He fauorit euer Cristin men,
Till he came cristinnit, as ȝe ken.
Till him þan wes contemporane
460
In to þe tyme þat Sanct Mertyne wes,
And led his lit in halynes.
And be oure cornykillis of Scotland
Ebornet wes regnand
King oure þe Pightis xl. ȝere.
Syne, quhen his dais endit were,
Talarge wes king, and led his lif
In Scotland twenty ȝeris and five,
Till all the ȝeris were ouregane
Off Constantius and Iuliane,
And all the emperouris bedene
That in baith þire tymes had bene.
Ebornet wes regnand
King oure þe Pightis xl. ȝere.
Syne, quhen his dais endit were,
Talarge wes king, and led his lif
In Scotland twenty ȝeris and five,
Till all the ȝeris were ouregane
Off Constantius and Iuliane,
And all the emperouris bedene
That in baith þire tymes had bene.
| CHAPTER XCII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |