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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| CXI. |
| CXII. | [CHAPTER CXII. |
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 | [CHAPTER CXII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
218
[CHAPTER CXII.
How þe auchtand Benet pape
Apperyt tyll ane hally bischope.]
Apperyt tyll ane hally bischope.]
A thousand winter and fourteyne
Fra God wes borne of Mary cleyne,
The auchtand Benet tuke the se
As pape of Rome; in þat ȝere he
Out of þat see wes put sone,
And ane other foroutin hone
Wes set, and gret sisma sua
Raise þat tyme betuix thai twa.
And quhen þis pape Benet wes dede,
And ane other wes in his steid,
As Peter Damyane þar of sais,
A haly bischop in þai dais
On a blak horss saw rydand
This paip Benet sa sittand.
This bischop vnabasitly
Spak to this spirit stoutly,
And said: “Art þov nocht þat Benet
That sumtyme held þe papis set?
And weill we wait at þov art deid,
And ane vther haldand þi steid.”
He said: “That sary Benet am I,
That held þat stait vnworthely.”
“Aa, fader,” he said, “þov tell me now
Thy faire.” And he said: “Ȝit I trow
Out of fell paynis frely
To be deliuerit throu mercy
Off my mychtfull Creature,
Throu prayere of þe Virgyne pure,
That is my help and my succour.
Ga thov to Iohne my successour,
And bid him seik in sic a place
Be name, for in it sumtyme was,
And ȝit is, of gold a sovme lyand.
Bid him tak it and be giffand
To pure folk; for in na thing
All that I delt in my liffing
Helpis nocht me; for wranguis gift
Off reif and falsheid forow schrift
Mendis me nocht, thocht I it wan,
Na spendit nocht it gudly þan.”
Fra God wes borne of Mary cleyne,
The auchtand Benet tuke the se
As pape of Rome; in þat ȝere he
Out of þat see wes put sone,
And ane other foroutin hone
Wes set, and gret sisma sua
Raise þat tyme betuix thai twa.
And quhen þis pape Benet wes dede,
And ane other wes in his steid,
As Peter Damyane þar of sais,
A haly bischop in þai dais
On a blak horss saw rydand
This paip Benet sa sittand.
This bischop vnabasitly
Spak to this spirit stoutly,
And said: “Art þov nocht þat Benet
That sumtyme held þe papis set?
And weill we wait at þov art deid,
And ane vther haldand þi steid.”
He said: “That sary Benet am I,
That held þat stait vnworthely.”
220
Thy faire.” And he said: “Ȝit I trow
Out of fell paynis frely
To be deliuerit throu mercy
Off my mychtfull Creature,
Throu prayere of þe Virgyne pure,
That is my help and my succour.
Ga thov to Iohne my successour,
And bid him seik in sic a place
Be name, for in it sumtyme was,
And ȝit is, of gold a sovme lyand.
Bid him tak it and be giffand
To pure folk; for in na thing
All that I delt in my liffing
Helpis nocht me; for wranguis gift
Off reif and falsheid forow schrift
Mendis me nocht, thocht I it wan,
Na spendit nocht it gudly þan.”
This bischop did his bidding weill,
And did as he bad ilk deill;
And for ferdnes of this, perfay,
He gaif his bischoprik vp þat day,
And enterit in to religioun,
And deit þare in deuocioun.
And did as he bad ilk deill;
And for ferdnes of this, perfay,
He gaif his bischoprik vp þat day,
And enterit in to religioun,
And deit þare in deuocioun.
Quhen þis pape Benet þe viii. wes dede,
Iohne the xx. tuke þat steid;
And nixt him Benet þe ix., and he
Fourty winter held þat se.
Gret ryotis, as Frere Martyne sais,
Fell in þis Benettis dais;
For in þat stait, quhile he, quhile he,
Be diuerss personis held þat se.
And þis pape, þat nynt Benet,
To Benet þe auchtand, at þat stait
Held befor, wes nevo neire.
Bot efter fra he wes brocht on beire,
Till a bysyne best all like
Seyne he wes besyde a dyke;
For taill and heid as horss he had,
And as a beire wes all elike braid;
Like till a beire wes his body,
Bot taill and heid like a horss suthly.
He þat him saw he wes sa rad
That, for þe gret dreid at he had,
He wald rycht fayne haif bene away;
Bot þan he begouth to say:
“Haif þov na dreid, bot I þe pray,
Speke with me or þov pass away.
As þov art now, I wes a man
Sumtyme; bot I baire me nocht þan
As I suld haif done of det;
For quhy I wes pape nynt Benet,
In sege I baire me bestialy,
And led my lif ay lustfully;
Forthy I am as þov may se.
Bot ȝit I trow to savit be
Throu help of þe Virgin pure,
The moder of my Creature.”
Quhen þis wes said he wit away,
And þis gud man gert for him pray.
Iohne the xx. tuke þat steid;
222
Fourty winter held þat se.
Gret ryotis, as Frere Martyne sais,
Fell in þis Benettis dais;
For in þat stait, quhile he, quhile he,
Be diuerss personis held þat se.
And þis pape, þat nynt Benet,
To Benet þe auchtand, at þat stait
Held befor, wes nevo neire.
Bot efter fra he wes brocht on beire,
Till a bysyne best all like
Seyne he wes besyde a dyke;
For taill and heid as horss he had,
And as a beire wes all elike braid;
Like till a beire wes his body,
Bot taill and heid like a horss suthly.
He þat him saw he wes sa rad
That, for þe gret dreid at he had,
He wald rycht fayne haif bene away;
Bot þan he begouth to say:
“Haif þov na dreid, bot I þe pray,
Speke with me or þov pass away.
As þov art now, I wes a man
Sumtyme; bot I baire me nocht þan
As I suld haif done of det;
For quhy I wes pape nynt Benet,
In sege I baire me bestialy,
And led my lif ay lustfully;
224
Bot ȝit I trow to savit be
Throu help of þe Virgin pure,
The moder of my Creature.”
Quhen þis wes said he wit away,
And þis gud man gert for him pray.
| [CHAPTER CXII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |