The Story of England by Robert Manning of Brunne, A.D. 1338. Edited from mss. at Lambeth Palace and the Inner Temple, by Frederick J. Furnivall |
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 | The Story of England |  |
Oueral þenne was sorewe & drede
Whenne þe Payens gonne to sprede!
ffor þey of noman hadde mercy,
But alle deide delfully;
Þe Cristen blod [þat] er was gentil,
Was turned to Payen so vyl.
Þe Saxons ledde þe Aufrykans,
& destruyed þe Cristen wans;
Knyghtes, clerkes, to deþ were don,
& namely alle religion;
Was non spared of Cristen tonge,
Neyþer womman ne childre ȝonge.
Byschopes, abbotes, þat reliqes had,
When þey fledde, a-wey þeym lad,
& manye in þe erthe þey dalf,
Þat now men fynde on many half;—
Crosses, belles, men haue founden,
In welles, in watres, vp haue wounden,
Þat tyme were casten, so to saue,
ffor þey myghte nought alle wyþ hem haue;—
Cors seyntes bones wyþ hem bare;
& hidde in erþe manion ȝut are.
Alle fledde þat fle might;
Þe hardiest was ful sore afright.
Theof, þe erchebischop of London,
To wode he fledde, & was nought fonden;
Sire Thadok, þe erchebischop of ȝork,
He liuede in kerres, as doþ þe stork;
Þey liuede wyþ herbes of þe ryuers,
In wast, wyþ bestes, at stedes sers;
Non þeym tok to castel ne tour,
ffor þey wyste of no socour;
Halles, chaumbres, alle þey let,
To Walys fele fledde on fet.
& somme þat mighte hauen hent,
In schip to litel Bretaigne went;
Þe mene folk & þe poraille
ffledde in to Walys & Cornewaille.
Whenne þe Payens gonne to sprede!
ffor þey of noman hadde mercy,
But alle deide delfully;
Þe Cristen blod [þat] er was gentil,
Was turned to Payen so vyl.
Þe Saxons ledde þe Aufrykans,
& destruyed þe Cristen wans;
Knyghtes, clerkes, to deþ were don,
& namely alle religion;
Was non spared of Cristen tonge,
Neyþer womman ne childre ȝonge.
Byschopes, abbotes, þat reliqes had,
When þey fledde, a-wey þeym lad,
505
Þat now men fynde on many half;—
Crosses, belles, men haue founden,
In welles, in watres, vp haue wounden,
Þat tyme were casten, so to saue,
ffor þey myghte nought alle wyþ hem haue;—
Cors seyntes bones wyþ hem bare;
& hidde in erþe manion ȝut are.
Alle fledde þat fle might;
Þe hardiest was ful sore afright.
Theof, þe erchebischop of London,
To wode he fledde, & was nought fonden;
Sire Thadok, þe erchebischop of ȝork,
He liuede in kerres, as doþ þe stork;
Þey liuede wyþ herbes of þe ryuers,
In wast, wyþ bestes, at stedes sers;
Non þeym tok to castel ne tour,
ffor þey wyste of no socour;
Halles, chaumbres, alle þey let,
To Walys fele fledde on fet.
& somme þat mighte hauen hent,
In schip to litel Bretaigne went;
Þe mene folk & þe poraille
ffledde in to Walys & Cornewaille.
Þe kyng fledde fro cost to cost,
ffor he myght gete to-gedere non host
Þat durste stande Gurmound agayn,
Erl, baron, knyght, ne swayn;
Ne þe kyng durst hym nought se,
ffor non wilde stande, but alle wold fle.
Seint Bede telles in his gestes
How þe Bretons brak Godes heste[s]:
Why þat meschaunce gan on þem falle,
In his bokes he writes hit alle.
Of eighte þat he wrytes, y telle þe þre,
In stede of an autorite:
Propre profit, & pryue hate,
ȝonge mennes conseil þey toke algate;
ffor by alle þyse þre þey ches,
And mest þorow þyse, Bretayne þey les.
ffor he myght gete to-gedere non host
Þat durste stande Gurmound agayn,
Erl, baron, knyght, ne swayn;
Ne þe kyng durst hym nought se,
ffor non wilde stande, but alle wold fle.
506
How þe Bretons brak Godes heste[s]:
Why þat meschaunce gan on þem falle,
In his bokes he writes hit alle.
Of eighte þat he wrytes, y telle þe þre,
In stede of an autorite:
Propre profit, & pryue hate,
ȝonge mennes conseil þey toke algate;
ffor by alle þyse þre þey ches,
And mest þorow þyse, Bretayne þey les.
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