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 |
The Story of England | ||
In Morpidus tyme þat was so stout,
Þe duk of Morreue robbed a-bout;
Northumberland gan he waste;
& Morpydus til hym gan haste,
And angerly gan hym assaille,
& þer hym slow in pleyn bataille.
Þus seide men, & ȝit mes seys,
Þat hit was proued (y not what weys)
Þat Morpidus slow mo men, alone,
Þan alle his host[e] dide ilkone.
When he had slayn al þat he myght,
& was al wery more to fyght,
Þe bodies he dide brenne of þo,
Er his grete ire myght ouer go.
Þe tyme þat he was best in elde,
& stalwordest hym self to welde,
A best com out of þe Irysche se
& destruyed al þe contre;
An hydous best was hit by sight,
‘Monstre Maryne’ men seide hit hight;
& som men caldit ‘Marebellew,’
So wonderful best no man þer knew.
(Swylk calle men ‘Monstre,’ als y fynde,
Þat lymes hauen out of kynde;
Þat hauen lymes more or lesse,
‘Monstre’ men seis þat swilkon ysse.)
‘Marebellow’ ys þe se hound:
I not wheþer hit suiymmes or is atte ground.
Was non þat wonede by þe se syde,
Þat durste for þat best abyde;
Man & best he swelwed & et;
Þat he ouertok, on lyue ne let.
Þe duk of Morreue robbed a-bout;
Northumberland gan he waste;
& Morpydus til hym gan haste,
And angerly gan hym assaille,
& þer hym slow in pleyn bataille.
Þus seide men, & ȝit mes seys,
Þat hit was proued (y not what weys)
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Þan alle his host[e] dide ilkone.
When he had slayn al þat he myght,
& was al wery more to fyght,
Þe bodies he dide brenne of þo,
Er his grete ire myght ouer go.
Þe tyme þat he was best in elde,
& stalwordest hym self to welde,
A best com out of þe Irysche se
& destruyed al þe contre;
An hydous best was hit by sight,
‘Monstre Maryne’ men seide hit hight;
& som men caldit ‘Marebellew,’
So wonderful best no man þer knew.
(Swylk calle men ‘Monstre,’ als y fynde,
Þat lymes hauen out of kynde;
Þat hauen lymes more or lesse,
‘Monstre’ men seis þat swilkon ysse.)
‘Marebellow’ ys þe se hound:
I not wheþer hit suiymmes or is atte ground.
Was non þat wonede by þe se syde,
Þat durste for þat best abyde;
Man & best he swelwed & et;
Þat he ouertok, on lyue ne let.
Morpidus herde þerof gret cry;
Hys herte was bold & euere hardy,
On himself he affyed so,
Allone, þe best he ȝede hym to,
& faught wyþ hym,—hit was folye
On hym self so mykel forto affie;—
Hym self alone þe best assailled,
Gret hardynesse hym non ne failled;
Wyþ spere first he til hym schet;
& wounded hym þat was so gret.
Whan he had schoten, & til hym cast,
Þenne wyþ swerd hew on hym fast.
Ouer neygh he cam in þat fyghtyng:
He gaped wyde, & swelwed þe kyng.
[þus gate deid sir Morpidus;
So did þe best þat swalud him thus.]
ffor þe kyng men made gret mone,
Þe bestes deþ conforted ilkone.
Hys herte was bold & euere hardy,
On himself he affyed so,
Allone, þe best he ȝede hym to,
& faught wyþ hym,—hit was folye
On hym self so mykel forto affie;—
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Gret hardynesse hym non ne failled;
Wyþ spere first he til hym schet;
& wounded hym þat was so gret.
Whan he had schoten, & til hym cast,
Þenne wyþ swerd hew on hym fast.
Ouer neygh he cam in þat fyghtyng:
He gaped wyde, & swelwed þe kyng.
[þus gate deid sir Morpidus;
So did þe best þat swalud him thus.]
ffor þe kyng men made gret mone,
Þe bestes deþ conforted ilkone.
The Story of England | ||