The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun :: :: University of Virginia Library

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

Anderson, R. (1770-1833)

II, III, IV, V, VI.

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THE ORIGINAL CHRONICLE OF ANDREW OF WYNTOUN

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

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LI.

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LIII.

CHAPTER LIII.

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LXXXIX.

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CLXIX.

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CLXXVII.

CLXXVIII.

CLXXIX.

CLXXX.

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CLXXXIII.

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CHAPTER LIII.

How Cerses with vii. hunder thousand
Wes vincust baith on se and land.

Four hundreth sevinty ȝere and sevin
Or Mary baire the King of Hevin,
His sone Cerses in his [steid],
Quhen Darius, as ȝe herd, wes deid,
In Perss succedit king regnand,
And gouernyt with his lawis þat land,
And þe weire held v. ȝeire
That his fader in gret steire.
In till his land of Persantis þen
He had vii. hunder thousand men,
Armyt at all poyntis clenely;
Thre hunder thousand of þaim suthly
Were wageouris armyt at rycht,
In to thare harnes flawmand brycht;
Twelf hunder schippis gret of toure,
And of smallar thre thousand oure,
With men and wittaill thare gert he
Be stuffit weill and laid to se.
His gret oste þus assemblit there
Doutit gif ony watteris were

Off haboundance or plente
That to thame all þare drink mycht be,
Or gif ony erd large wes
To thare batallis for to pass,
Or to thare navyne ony se
Mycht rovme enewgh or large be.
Sic ane oste, ȝe may weill trow,
Is weire for to be gaderit now
Than it wes þan for to suppriss
Be batall or be iuperdyiss.

Off Spartany Leoniedes
King and lord all þat tyme wes;
He with viii. thousand men þat quhile
Lay in the stratest of Teronapill.
Quhen Cerses þare of had wittering,
In to dispyte and pure hething
That sa few for thare defens
Durst mak agane him resistens,
He gert array his gret batall
In purpose thame for till assaill;
Bot thai sped þaim befor onone
In to the feild of Marratone,
That in his fader tyme had bene
The causs of this mischeif bedene,
Forthy to assalȝe his innemyis
With batall or with iuperdyis.

And thai rycht sa, schortly to tell
As in þat fecht þe fortoune fell,
The begynning thai were haill,
And of þat fecht the first tinsall;
And quhen this gret oste with Cerses
Wnto the batall cummyn wes,

Thai vmbeset on ilka syde
The Spartanyis with Leonyde.
The fecht raisss sone baith fersss and fell,
And the batall rycht cruell,
Quhare nane mycht heire bot dusche for dusche,
And rappis rude with mony rusche;
Mony scheild and mony speire
To fruschit and to brokin were;
Of on basnettis burnyst all brycht
Men mycht se seire wappinnis lycht,
And stedis strayand throu þe meid
With woundis wyde at fast can bleid.
In sic a thrang, withoutin dout,
The fechting thre dais lestit out,
But trewis taking or department,
Or ony maner of amesing,
That nane of bak the flycht mycht ta,
Na nane mycht pass to purchess ma.
Thai were in to that fycht sa thik
That nane had rovme oþer to stik,
And sa fortyrit in that thraw
That nane had mycht his aynd to draw.
Off slane bodyis funding ware thare
Heipis hie vpstandand were,
That quha sa had þaim þat tyme sene
Wald nocht haif trowit bot thai had sene
Twa batallis of seire nationis,
As hapnis betuene regionis,

Bot of alkyne natioun,
As pestilens or deid felloune.

The ferd day quhen Leoniedes
Saw how he with his fais set was
He callit till him his wageouris,
His freyndis and his sowdeouris;
Out of the press of the batall
He thrang and said: “I gif counsall
That ȝe remufe out of the fycht,
And draw ȝow to ȝone hill on hycht,
Ȝow to refresche and tak þe aire;
And quhen it nedis syne to repaire
Fra that ȝe refreschit be,
For better ȝit I think to se;
For I will with the Spartanyis
Pruf sum vther iuperdyis,
Supposs I happin to be slane
And for to de in to þe payne;
For quhy it is my honest det
For my land my lif to set,
And set nocht by my lif a fle
Quhill I haif gottin my land all fre,
Na I compt nocht na hurt a peire
My honour and my land to weire.
Forthy to ȝow, my feris all,
I gif to counsall quhat euer fall
That we na langer hover heire,
Bot to ȝone gret ost lat ws steire,
And set ȝour lif in iupertye
For to distroy oure innemy,
Na comptis nocht þe dayis lycht,

Na ȝit till ȝour fais be dycht,
Bot on the nycht gif we may se
That ony hap may ouris be,
Within thare tentis quhare thai ly
Cum we on þaim sodanely;
For sa slepand best we may
Put þaim to sa hard assay
That, for out perell, ma sall de
Than sall be bovne to fecht or fle,
And our worschip na may nocht be
Commendit of mare honeste
Than to be funding togidder all,
How sa euer þe fortoune fall,
Ouþer with fais within thare tentis
Or in plane feild or in buschementis;
For honour artis ws till assaill,
And aventure may oft availl,
And prowes puttis till perill,
And efter hope happinnis quhile;
And þus be fell opunyons
Foroutin excusations
We salbe savit fra all blame,
And kepit salbe our gud fame.”

To þis þai assentit all,
And did his counsall, gret and small,
And gert thare spyis ta gud keip
Quhill þat þe Persantis wer on sleip
Within thare tentis quhare thai lay.
And þan, schortly for to say,
Leoniedes with his cumpany
Come on þe Persantis sodanely

Quhen þai were sadly falling on sleip,
And stekit þame as þai were sheip,
That sum with woundis walknyt were,
And sum were gaspand, granand saire,
And sum sa stekit stakerand stude,
And sum lay bluberand in þare blude;
And þus in woundis as thai wauerit
And stekit sa with stokis stauerit,
The Persantis ilkane stekit were,
Sparand noþer freynd nor broþer,
For þai were of sic multitud
And sa thik togidder stude
That nane mycht myss quhare he wald mynt,
Na nane to deid gaif double dynt,
And mony smorit and lossit the lif
Foroutin straik of suerd or knyf.
And þus þe Spartanys but chas
Wencust þare fais neire in that place,
For fra þe glomyne of the nycht
Till on þe morne þat day wes lycht,
And till ane houre efter þe none
Or þat the fecht wes fully done.

Quhen þat þe king wes socht
And funding in þe feild wes nocht,
Sex hundreth thousand Persantis þare
In to þe deid funding ware,
And slane in to that iuperdy,
With sex hundreth anerly
Off Spartanyis þat in þat tyde
To batall come with Leoniyde,
That slane with him in batall wes;

And þus discomfit wes Cerses,
And, as of neid than him behuffit,
Till his schippis he him remuffit,
And with his navyne þan thocht he
That all Grece suld distroyit be.

In till þis tyme Tymostocles
Off Athenis that chiftane wes,
That is in Grece a gret cete
And mast famouss in that cuntre;
Quhen he þe Yonis saw alhaill
In till Cerses suppowall,
And had his flote in gouernyng,
And for thir causs of Perss þe king
Daryus, the fader of Cerses,
Agane Athenis commuffit wes,
And sa were þai þe causs principall
Off all þis weire and þis batall;
For halely the Athenyens
With Yonyis in thare defens
Agane Daryus raiss of weire,
Quhairfor he raisit his powere
Aganis the Atheniens,
That maid sa manly resistens
Quhill in the Marracone on a day
Slane twa hundere thousand lay;
And, as I said, þis Tymosteles,
That saw how all þis cummyn wes,
Set all his slycht and his quayntiss
For to trete with þe Yonyiss;
And for him worthit to forbeire,
As vse is among men of weire,
Entercomonyng; forthy be bill

He wrait his entent and will
[To] the amerwaill of Yonyss,
And þus he wrait on preve wyss;
He said: “Me think ȝe ar to blame,
That ar to rekles of ȝour fame,
Set ȝe think be ȝour consciens
That for ȝour stait ȝe mak defens,
Bot ȝit it is gret cruelte
Off ȝour gud fame rekles to be;
For honour tholis confusioun
[Quhen] revery regnys but resoune,
And wit with will quha will suppriss,
Thare honeste defoullit lyiss.
Off kyndnes tharefor haiffis nov thocht,
And thinks for ȝow quhat ȝe haif wrocht
In Marracone apon a day,
Quhare slane iic thousand lay,
And how oure frendis of Spartany
For ȝour causs alhalely
In till oure suppowall raiss,
And how thare king Leoniydass
Now in to þis latter fecht
Sex hundreth thousand on a nycht
With sex hundreth men [has] slane;
And in þat batall with gret pane
Leoniydes slane wes thare,
That we and þai mycht rew full saire.
For he wes worthy, wyss and wycht,
And of his handis a hardy knycht.
And now þe king of Perss, Cerses,
That fra þat fecht eschapit is,
In ȝone gret flote apon þe se

Full effrayit has tane entre,
And schapit to distroy ws all.
Be God, perchans his pryde may fall;
For quhy ȝe quyt ws now kyndnes,
That quhen ȝe se ws set in press,
Gif out of havin ȝour schippis be,
Ȝe change to luf and turne to se,
And lat ws with our fais fycht
Till þat our goddis deill þe rycht.”
This wes his counsall and his will,
That he gert writt and closs in bill,
And till a stane at wes neire by,
Quhare þat he wist rycht witterly
That Yonyse wald aryve,
He gert it festnyt be belive.

The awmerall sone land has tane,
And saw this apon the stane;
Fra he it red he wist it wes
The counsall of Thomesteles.
In haist his erandis þan did he,
And sped him syne fast to þe se,
And drew him fra þe Cerses sone of Perss,
Rycht as Themestocles did reherse.
Themestocles ȝit still abaid
And of thare schippis wonyng [had];
And lay arrayit with his oste,
Ay redy for to keip þe coste.
Bot Antynodor, þat lady
That quene wes þan of Carnasy,
In þe suppleying of Cerses
Brak on this Themestocles
Out of hir buschement quhare scho lay,
And maid rycht stout and hard assay,

And pruffit worschip and manheid
Amang þe cheif of his knychtheid.
Thare womanis will turnyt in man
And manheid turnyt in woman;
For þare scho raissit sa fell a fycht
That mony a doure to deid wes dycht;
Bot ȝit the victory neuerþeles
Behuffit to Themystocles,
For thare wes slane þat stout lady
And neire alhaill hir chevalry,
That hapnit haill that Cerses king
Suld haue lawd in þare helping
With all þe folkis of his navyne;
Bot throu þe counsall of cowyne
And wit of this Themestocles
All vthere wayis thare fortoune wes;
For all Yonys full rycht,
Quhen thai the forse saw of the fycht,
Turnyt to luf and held to se.
Than Cresses in perplexite
Wes hard set in his navyne,
And come nocht till all esy fyne;
For as he houerit þire wawis wod
Drownyt seill of his folkis in flude,
And seill eschapit for radnes
For þat þare king wes in sic press,
And seill of þaim were tane of weire
With þe Athenis and thare powere.
And þan of Perss Mardonyus,
At saw his king reboittit þus,

Said till him: “Schir I reid at ȝe
Set ȝow for ȝour liffis saufte;
For heire ȝe thole sa oure gret schame
That I dreid were to fynd at hame,
And or it sa suld happin þare
In to ȝour land I wald ȝe ware,
Leiffand all ȝour oste with me;
And sa, how euer oure fortoune be,
To hald of weire oure innemyis,
That wald ȝow and ws all suppriss;
Sa sall excusit be oure name,
And ȝe sauf be fra defame.”

To this counsall of Mardyone
Cerses assentit sone onone,
And deliuerit him all his men
And maid him oure þaim all chiftane;
And þare þat king, at first gert big
With schippis oure þe flud a brig,
With few folkis of his cumpany
Away þan lorkit prevely
In till a litill fischare skovt,
For press þat he wes in and dout,
And winter wedder fell and grete
Lowssit all his brig of thret;
And of the seruice of a man
Off neid held him payit þan,
Quhare forowth at he gert the see
For his navyne lovrand be.
For falt of rovme his mekle mycht

Kest doune hillis hie on hycht,
And with þe plane erd evin þaim maid
To schaw his oste quhare at thai raid;
To skant all rynnand reveris were
For to be drink till his powere.
Alkyne hap him wantit thare,
And vnfortoune maid him misfaire,
And all his futmen and archearis,
That were betaucht to þare ledaris,
For dreid and hungere and travale
Maid þaim all fayntly to faill,
And bolne till at the last the dede
Consomyt þaim forout remeid.
Oure all the landis quhare þai lay
Mycht na man neire þaim pass the way,
For thare carioun and the stynk
Thai nere to brist at thai wald think;
Foullis wild and bestis fell,
That of þare carioun feld þe smell,
That fey oste followit all way neire,
Quhill thai deand falling were,
And of thare flesche wald fill þaim þare
Or thai fullely all deid ware.
Quhen Cerses þus to Maridone gaif
Off his oste alhaill þe laif
Thare remanit þan vnslane,
Mardyone wox thareof sa fayne

That he him put to press sa fast
Quhill he defoullit wes at the last.
Fra þin his way to Grece he past
And werrayit thare wichtly and fast;
Off Grekis mony he discomfyt
And wan þe castell of Alywet,
And the Athenis besely
He tretit with his trechery,
And led þaim in hope of pess
Quhill þat he saw thare fredome wes
Off sic mycht and sic pouste
Off weire thai mycht nocht wonnyng be.
Off thare cete þan in ire
A gret part thai brynt in fyre.

In Boesy with his powere
He past syne thare to mak weire;
Off Grekis ane hundreth thousand haill,
All arrayit for batall,
Forsely followit þis Mardione
And gaif him batall sone onone,
And with him facht in feild sa fast
Till he wes vincust at þe last,
And all his oste thare neire wes slane,
And him self with mekle payne
Eschapit out of þat melle,
Vnarmyt with a few menȝe,
In swat all drawkit as thai ware,
Like a schip brokin marynere.
His pavilȝeonis and his tentis at wes
Stuffit weill with gret riches
Off King Cerses tresoure haill

And lordis at deid ware in batall,
At lest gold and iowellis plente,
And als of mony riche cite,
That King Cerses befor þat wan
Fra þat he first weire began
Till þat day he fled for dout,
As ȝe herd, in a fischearis skout.
All þat Mardioun lost þat day,
That gouernyt him but vertu ay;
And þat day þat Mardonyus
In Boesy wes vencust þus,
A gret part of the oste of Perss
In Asye, as I herd reherss,
Wes discomfyt and put to se
And set in herd perplexite.

Efter þis quhen the king Cerses
Hame till his awne land cummyn wes,
Sa ill commendit thare wes he
And lakit with his awne menȝe
That schortly thare, the suth to say,
[In his] awne hall apon a day
Burdis and clathis þare on set,
And he had weschin to ga to mete,
His stewart maid on him a schot
And claucht him kenely by the throt,
And with a knyf up to the heft

[He] stekit him quhill the lif he left.
This wes the ending of Cerses,
That in all tyme vnhappy wes.
As Orosyus, þat clerk sa fyne,
Wrait till his maister sanct Augustyne,
Wnder thir the kingis of Perss,
The quhilkis ȝe herd me last reherss,
A hundreth thousand nynty syss
Reknyt were of deid bodyis,
All of Persantis slane doune,
And of nane vthere natioun.

Quhen þat Cerses endit þus
His sone succedit Daryus,
The quhilk in Alexanderis dais
Endit, as the story sais.
Now of my purposs to mak end
Off Perss þe storyis I haue spend.