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 |
 | II, III, IV, V, VI. |
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| CXXV. |
| CXXVI. | CHAPTER CXXVI. |
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| CXXIX. |
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 | CHAPTER CXXVI. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
CHAPTER CXXVI.
How a knycht þat wes full ald
Said of þe gud quene Mald.
Said of þe gud quene Mald.
A thousand and a hundreth ȝere
Efter þe birth of oure Lord dere,
Than king of Ingland William Reid
Reklesly wes slane to deid;
As he a day in hunting past
With his folkis in þe New Forast,
With a rekles schot of cass
A knycht him slew in to þat place.
Henry þan his broþer ȝing
Crownit wes, and sone maid king;
The bischop of Lundone, callit Mawrice,
Crovnit him with hie seruice.
Efter þe birth of oure Lord dere,
Than king of Ingland William Reid
Reklesly wes slane to deid;
As he a day in hunting past
With his folkis in þe New Forast,
With a rekles schot of cass
A knycht him slew in to þat place.
Henry þan his broþer ȝing
Crownit wes, and sone maid king;
358
Crovnit him with hie seruice.
Oure king Edgare, throu gud trete,
Gert Mald his sister maryit be
With þis lord Schir Henry ȝing,
Off all Ingland þan crovnit king.
The archbischop of Ȝork þan,
A notable commendit man,
Crovnit with solempnyte
Dame Mald, þat sueit lady fre;
And, fra scho crovnit wes, but weyne,
Thai callit hir Dame Mald the gud quene.
Gert Mald his sister maryit be
With þis lord Schir Henry ȝing,
Off all Ingland þan crovnit king.
The archbischop of Ȝork þan,
A notable commendit man,
Crovnit with solempnyte
Dame Mald, þat sueit lady fre;
And, fra scho crovnit wes, but weyne,
Thai callit hir Dame Mald the gud quene.
And, for a causs quhilk ȝe sall heire
Quhen I cum to þat ilk matere,
At hir crovnyng wes maid gret fest;
Thare semblit ware þe worthyest,
And lordis gretest of degre
Off all Ingland to that semble.
Sa wes þare þan ane ald knycht set
That day amang þaim at þe mete,
And þire wordis þan said he:
“Now in þe rute is set þe tre,
Baith frute and flour weill like to beire.”
Bot of þis few wist þe manere;
Than þai him prayit þat were by
That he wald tell þaim opinly
Quhat betaknyt þat mysty word,
That he recordit at þe burd.
Than said þis auld knycht curtasly
That he suld tell it opinly.
He said: “Till I wes quhile steward
With my liege king Sanct Edward,
And I befor him wes standand
At his meit, and he sittand,
Sa wes þare a suspect traytour,
At his burd sittand with honour;
That he wes tratour þare wes sene
Be opin vengeance, withoutin weyne.
By þe king þan at þe mete
As he wes at þe tabill set,
And in his hand a pece of breid,
That was þe causs þan of his deid
Or he departit fra þat burde,
Than to þe king he said þis word:
‘My lord, ȝe haif oft herd of me
That I suld ȝow betraise,’ said he,
‘And þat I suld be sum tressoun
Sla or vndo ȝour avne persoune.
Gif euer I thocht for to do sa,
I pray to God or I hyne ga
That þis litill pece of breid
Heire in ȝour sicht be now my deid,
And God lat neuer of it a crote,
Till I be weryit, pass oure my throte.’
Than of þat breid he begouth to ete,
Bot oure his throt mycht it nocht get;
Bot sodanely richt at that burde
He weryit, and spak neuer a word.
The king þan gert him hastely
Be drawin out, and dispituously
Oure a hewgh gert cast him doune,
Hundis till eit his carioun.
Quhen I cum to þat ilk matere,
At hir crovnyng wes maid gret fest;
Thare semblit ware þe worthyest,
And lordis gretest of degre
Off all Ingland to that semble.
Sa wes þare þan ane ald knycht set
That day amang þaim at þe mete,
And þire wordis þan said he:
“Now in þe rute is set þe tre,
Baith frute and flour weill like to beire.”
Bot of þis few wist þe manere;
Than þai him prayit þat were by
That he wald tell þaim opinly
Quhat betaknyt þat mysty word,
That he recordit at þe burd.
Than said þis auld knycht curtasly
That he suld tell it opinly.
360
With my liege king Sanct Edward,
And I befor him wes standand
At his meit, and he sittand,
Sa wes þare a suspect traytour,
At his burd sittand with honour;
That he wes tratour þare wes sene
Be opin vengeance, withoutin weyne.
By þe king þan at þe mete
As he wes at þe tabill set,
And in his hand a pece of breid,
That was þe causs þan of his deid
Or he departit fra þat burde,
Than to þe king he said þis word:
‘My lord, ȝe haif oft herd of me
That I suld ȝow betraise,’ said he,
‘And þat I suld be sum tressoun
Sla or vndo ȝour avne persoune.
Gif euer I thocht for to do sa,
I pray to God or I hyne ga
That þis litill pece of breid
Heire in ȝour sicht be now my deid,
And God lat neuer of it a crote,
Till I be weryit, pass oure my throte.’
Than of þat breid he begouth to ete,
Bot oure his throt mycht it nocht get;
362
He weryit, and spak neuer a word.
The king þan gert him hastely
Be drawin out, and dispituously
Oure a hewgh gert cast him doune,
Hundis till eit his carioun.
The king þus at þe burd sittand,
Ay in a study still musand,
He walknyt out of his study.
‘I wes,’ he said, ‘in Normundy
[Bydand], as ȝe wist, sumquhile
Out of þis land þare in exile;
And sua wes þare twa cunnand men,
That oft to me reparit þen,
And were my speciall familieris,
And plesand and of gud maneris.
The stait of Ingland on a day
To me sairely þan menyt þai,
And said Ingland wes like to be
Confoundit for gret iniquite
That wes vsit in þat land;
For þare wes few in it liffand
That wes commendit of verteouss,
Bot euill, gredy and lichoruss;
Na noþer laugh nor ȝit lawte
Wes vsit in to þat cuntre;
For lordis throu þare cuvatiss
The sympill pepill wald suppriss,
And bischopis als, and oþer prelatis
In haltane vss held þar estatis;
Sa þat throu thare iniquite
It wes weill like at þat cuntre
Suld sone periss for þe syn
That wes vsit it within,
He said. I askit quhat remeid
Mycht help to þis, or stand in steid,
And ane of þaim þan ansuerd me,
And said: “Sick help may hapnit to be
“As be þis rydill I sall þe say,
“That efter þis may fall perfay.
“A grene tre fra þe rute is sewin,
“And fra þe rute a space is drawin
“Large thre akir breid of land,
“Or neire þar by, þov vnderstand.
“Bot ȝit þe tre may happin to get
“The kynd rute, and in it be set,
“And þe sap to recouer syne
“Baith of branche and of fluris fyne,
“And þe frute þe tre oure spred;
“Than is to lippin sum remeid.”’”
Ay in a study still musand,
He walknyt out of his study.
‘I wes,’ he said, ‘in Normundy
[Bydand], as ȝe wist, sumquhile
Out of þis land þare in exile;
And sua wes þare twa cunnand men,
That oft to me reparit þen,
And were my speciall familieris,
And plesand and of gud maneris.
The stait of Ingland on a day
To me sairely þan menyt þai,
And said Ingland wes like to be
Confoundit for gret iniquite
That wes vsit in þat land;
For þare wes few in it liffand
That wes commendit of verteouss,
Bot euill, gredy and lichoruss;
Na noþer laugh nor ȝit lawte
Wes vsit in to þat cuntre;
364
The sympill pepill wald suppriss,
And bischopis als, and oþer prelatis
In haltane vss held þar estatis;
Sa þat throu thare iniquite
It wes weill like at þat cuntre
Suld sone periss for þe syn
That wes vsit it within,
He said. I askit quhat remeid
Mycht help to þis, or stand in steid,
And ane of þaim þan ansuerd me,
And said: “Sick help may hapnit to be
“As be þis rydill I sall þe say,
“That efter þis may fall perfay.
“A grene tre fra þe rute is sewin,
“And fra þe rute a space is drawin
“Large thre akir breid of land,
“Or neire þar by, þov vnderstand.
“Bot ȝit þe tre may happin to get
“The kynd rute, and in it be set,
“And þe sap to recouer syne
“Baith of branche and of fluris fyne,
“And þe frute þe tre oure spred;
“Than is to lippin sum remeid.”’”
Than þe knycht said: “Now I se
In þe kynd rute set þe tre;
This tre ȝe may vnderstand
To be þe kinrik of Ingland,
That in honour and riches,
And in gret welth haboundand is.
The rute, ȝe trow, in kingis seid
Quhare of all kingis come of deid
That aucht the kinrik of Ingland,
Be lyne and lynnage discendand,
All tyme regnand efter þat,
Syne Locryne fra his fader it gat,
That wes Brutus, þat wan þir landis,
As ȝe herd forouth, fra gyandis.
The space of twa thousand ȝere
As king of kings ay cummyn ware,
Quhill Harrauld, Bastard and William Reid,
That now in muld ar lyand deid,
Off þat stait interruptioun
Maid be þare intrusioun.
Thir ar þe aker lenthis thre
At forouth þis rehersit we;
Alkyne of þir thre throu þar strenth
Fychit þe tre ane aker lenth;
Now gottyn has þe tre rute
Off kynd, to comfort and to bute,
And like to beire baith frute and flour,
Vntill oure help and oure succour,
Sene Saxons in þe Scottis blude
Is samyn in ȝone frely fude,
Dame Mald, oure quene and oure lady,
Now weddit with our king Henry.”
This auld knycht sittand at þe burd
All þis rehersit word be word.
In þe kynd rute set þe tre;
This tre ȝe may vnderstand
To be þe kinrik of Ingland,
That in honour and riches,
And in gret welth haboundand is.
366
Quhare of all kingis come of deid
That aucht the kinrik of Ingland,
Be lyne and lynnage discendand,
All tyme regnand efter þat,
Syne Locryne fra his fader it gat,
That wes Brutus, þat wan þir landis,
As ȝe herd forouth, fra gyandis.
The space of twa thousand ȝere
As king of kings ay cummyn ware,
Quhill Harrauld, Bastard and William Reid,
That now in muld ar lyand deid,
Off þat stait interruptioun
Maid be þare intrusioun.
Thir ar þe aker lenthis thre
At forouth þis rehersit we;
Alkyne of þir thre throu þar strenth
Fychit þe tre ane aker lenth;
Now gottyn has þe tre rute
Off kynd, to comfort and to bute,
And like to beire baith frute and flour,
Vntill oure help and oure succour,
Sene Saxons in þe Scottis blude
Is samyn in ȝone frely fude,
Dame Mald, oure quene and oure lady,
Now weddit with our king Henry.”
This auld knycht sittand at þe burd
All þis rehersit word be word.
In this tyme þe translatioun
Wes maid with veneracioun
Off Sanct Cuthbert to Durehame,
Be prelatis of commendit fame,
Fra þe kirk of Haly Heland,
Quhare he befor þat wes lyand.
Thare Alexander, our kingis broþer,
At þat translacioun wes with oþer.
To Durhame þan the bischopis se
Fra þin wes ordanit for to be.
Wes maid with veneracioun
Off Sanct Cuthbert to Durehame,
Be prelatis of commendit fame,
368
Quhare he befor þat wes lyand.
Thare Alexander, our kingis broþer,
At þat translacioun wes with oþer.
To Durhame þan the bischopis se
Fra þin wes ordanit for to be.
| CHAPTER CXXVI. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |