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(Buch III.)

Here begynneth the thyrde boke / whiche telleth of the conuersion of many of the paynims vnto the fayth. And also of the martyrdome of holy Amphibalus / whiche conuerted saynt Albon to the fayth of Christe. whiche Amphibalus was the princes sonne of wales.

Myracles shewed / and maruayles many folde
This blessed martyr for to magnyfye,
As here toforne ye haue herde me tolde:
The nyght illumyned with the golden skye,
Songe of angels with heuenly armony:
The people astonyed, tremblyng in the derke,
To se howe Christ lyst for the martyr werke.
“But on your brest remembre your trespas,
To therth fall prostrate downe,
Prayeth to the lorde for to do you grace,
Of your offence and transgression
Or that he take vengeance on your towne!
Trusteth playnly, / whether ye be wrothe or fayne,
All this wrought for hym that ye haue slayne:
This lyght from heuen / whiche þt is descended,
For Albon shewed, and the golden skye.
Let vs repent of that we haue offended,
Of our trespas mercy to Jesu crye
And forsake all ydolatrye,
Takyng ensample all by one accorde
Of this martyr that whylome was our lorde!
We may consydre a thyng agaynst nature:
Howe the nyght with her derke derkenesse
Passyng reason of any creature
Is by myracle turned to bryghtnesse,
Of angels herde a melodious swetnes:
And all thynge—brefely to comprehende—
For the merytes of Albon to commende.
Maugre mawmettes / whiche can but disceyue,
Impotent and very feble of myght—
By experience as ye (may) conceyue—
Bryghter than day hath made the derke nyght,
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To declare the merytes of his knyght,
Playnly to shewe lyght of his perfytenes,
Whiche may nat be clypsed by no foreyn derkenes.
Agayne this lorde, / whiche is moste of myght,
We haue erred in our opinion
And done vnto hym great wronge and vnryght
To make our fayth and our professyon
To fals idols, / whiche in this royall towne
We haue so longe in our paynem wyse
As idolatres do frowarde seruice.
Let vs nowe dampne all suche errour
And forsake with entier diligence
All false goddes, / whiche may do no socour
To theyr seruantes, present nor absence:
Wherfore let vs nowe clere our conscience
And axe forgyfenes of our lorde Jesu,
Whiche hath in Albon shewed so great vertue!
Let vs not tary, / but in all hast we can
Go seche meanes for our saluation
In dyuers countres to fynde vp the man
Wh(i)che by his labour and predication
Conuerted Albon in the same towne
To Christis fayth, / that martyr moste benyngne,
This nyght declared by many an vnkouth signe!
From our rytes and ceremonyes olde
And false errours enclypsed with darkenes,
Done to mawmettes, / with whom we were withholde
Of ignorance by consuete rudenes,
And to directe and clarifye our blyndnes
From all errour and ydolatrye,
The best way that I can espie,
By these myracles / whiche Christ Jesu hath wrought
For loue of Albon the same nyght,
That his maister may in hast be sought;
For it is lykely, accordyng wele to ryght:
Syth god hath shewed suche myracle for his knyght,
He that was cause of his conuersion
Myght best prouyde for our saluation:
I mene as thus in very equite:
Syth god in Albon hath shewed suche vertue,
His maister shulde haue great auctoritie
That was sent hym, by grace of Christ Jesu,
To put our doubte at a playne issue,
By myracles declaryng newe and newe
His maisters teachyng faythfull was and trewe.”
All that people beinge in presence,
Of god enspired, as by one assent,
With one voyce commendyng that sentence
Gafe the fauour in all theyr best entent
Toke theyr way by great auisement
Towarde wales and sought on euery syde,
Serchyng the countre, where he shulde abyde.
Of whose preachyng notable was the fame
Both in his lyuyng and perfyte holynes,
Full glad they were / whan they herde his name,
And towardes hym fast they gan them dresse;
As the story playnly beareth wytnesse,
Came by grace where he dyd teache
The worde of god / and to the people preche.
And full deuoutly vpon hym they abode,
Hauyng aforne hym ryght great audience
As they come to hym, / euen as he stode,
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And hym saluted with great reuerence,
Greatly reioysyng of his deuoute presence:
Offered to hym, or they ferther gone,
The same crosse he yafe vnto Albon.
The whiche crosse was newly sprent with blode
Whan he for Christ suffered passyon;
By whiche token full well he vnderstode
That he was slayne: / fell on his knees downe,
Kyssyng the crosse with great deuotion,
In his armes with teares all be reyned
That holy relyque full swetely he hath streyned;
He thanked god with deuout obseruance
And that martyrs humble pacience.
This newe people with deuoute attendance
Whiche was come to yefe hym audience,
All at ones with full great reuerence
And herte contrite knelyng on theyr knees,
Forsoke theyr ydols and olde vanytees;
Theyr myspent tyme to them was great losse,
To all vertue an odious spectacle,
Tyll tyme they were marked with the crosse
In theyr forhede by grace and myracle,
With that victorious tryumphall signacle;
And folowyng on, / lyke theyr fyrst entent,
Receyued of baptisme the holy sacrament.
Within a whyle the fame went abrode
Farre about—in story as I rede—
Dyuers countres, of this thynge howe it stode;
Tyll at last the noyse gan sprede,
Of Verolamy / howe verely in dede
Citezyns theyr goodes haue forsake,
A full great nombre, / and theyr iourney take
To folowe the traces of Amphibalus,
A newe preacher, straunge and foreyne;
Theyr olde rytes false and superstitious
They haue renounsed and holde al that ben vayne;
They haue also of very high disdayne
From them abiecte—/ myn aucter lyst not lye—
All theyr ydols and false mawmettrye.
Whan the rumour was come vnto the citie,
They were troubled, / hauyng great maruayle
What it ment or what it shulde be;—
At prime face lyke a great dissauayle
To comen profyte, they dempt in theyr counsayle
It was full lyke theyr citie to encombre.
Enquered fyrst what fayled of theyr nombre.
In theyr rolles were a thousande founde
And theyr names entytled euery chone—
A thynge lykely the citie to confounde,
But remedy ordeyned were anone,
That suche a nombre by assent were gone.
By great auise cast it was dewe,
A myghty thyng tho folke to pursewe,
And with stronge hande serched out the rote
Of this matter, in hope it shulde auayle.
They gathered them on horsebacke and on fote,
And gan ordeyne a myghty stronge batayle
Of sondry folke armed in plate and mayle
Agaynst fugytifes gon out of the cite,
And on Amphibalus auenged for to be.
Of whose persone so notable was the fame
Through all wales and contres enuiron,
That the report of his good name
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Gan to encrease thorough all the regyon,
Of his doctrine and predication:
Whiche through wales shone lyke a lode-sterre,
Them to directe / which in our fayth doth erre.
Tho folke that were come to hym of newe
From Verolamy his preachyng for to here,
Lyke a doctour in Christis fayth most trewe
Receyued them with all his herte entiere,
Enformed them and taught them the maniere
Of Christis lawe with busy diligence,—
And they were glad to abyde in his presence;
Lytell and lytell in he gan them drawe
To catche fayth and sauour in his doctryne:
Of hole herte forsoke the paynyms lawe
And with great wyll theyr corage dyd enclyne
So to perseuer and so theyr lyfe to fyne
In Christis lawe as folke that lyst not tary,
So for to abyde and neuer more to vary.
Other there were, / whiche gan pursewe
The sayde people, of malyce and of hate,
This newe doctrine of Christis transmewe:
Whiche come vpon, armed with mayle and plate,
Sent from that citie of purpose to debate
Agaynst them / whiche that for Christis sake
Fayth of paynyms vnwarely hath forsake;
Folowed after with rumour, noyse and sowne,
To fall vpon them with sodeyn auenture;
Serchyng in wales aboute towne and towne
Of Amphibalus the presence to recure:
Whiche lyke a clerke grounded in scripture
To that people at reuerence of our lorde
Stode amōges them / and preached goddes worde.
And one there was, for anger almost wode,
That brake fyrst out, shewyng his conceyte
To Amphibalus amonge them as he stode—
Whereof that people was all and hole receyte:
“O thou, quod he, grounde of all disceyte,
Rote of fraude, / falsenes / and trechery,
To all our goddes traytour and ennemye!
That thou hast done, thou mayst it not forsake,
Of frowarde contempte malyciously practised
Agaynst our goddes a quarell for to take,
Theyr lawes olde presumptously dispised,
As these people contagiously disguysed,
To great damage of vs and of our cite:
Whiche, trust me well, shall not vnpunysshed be.
It is no doubte it shall not abyde longe;
Of theyr iniury and theyr godly greuance,
As they be moste myghty and most stronge,
They sodenly shall take on the vengeance.
But if thou wylte eschewe theyr pusance,
Fyrst do repent the, / to fynde them more tretable,
And seche a meane to make them mercyfull.
Fyrst of all do thy busynesse
Of theyr great ire to appese the rancour,
Afore these people / shewe outwarde thy mekenes,
To louse the bondes, / whiche by thy labour
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Thou hast them brought in full great errour:
Be so besy agayne with faythfull attendaunce
Them to counsell to fall in repentance!
Gyfe them counsell and make them to assent
With herte and body no daunger for to make
To axe mercy and sore repent,
Or sodeyn vengeance be on them take
Of that they haue our goddes forsake!
For this no doubte: but it be done in dede,
We shall agayne them vengeably procede.
For if they stande in theyr fyrst errour
As they began, frowarde and obstynate,
They shall of mercy fynde no fauour,
Without exception of high or lowe estate,
But lyke as people most infortunate
Dye vpon the sworde—take this for full sentence—
As is concluded by marcyall violence.”
Yet there was one, supprised with feruence,
Of Christis lawe stedfast in the fayth,
Whiche had bothe connyng and eloquence
And for his maister holy wryt he laythe;
To thylke paynym euen thus he saythe:
“Our lorde god / whiche called is Jesu,
Shall be this day our refuge and vertue
And our chefe helpe in tribulation—
Whiche shall percase shewe some myracle
By his most myghty domination
Therfore(!) these folke, an vnkouth spectacle,
That there-ayen shalbe none obstacle:
Through goddes myght and mercyfull goodnes
Some man to saue of his sodeyn sykenes
Our maister here whom that ye repreue,
In Christis name, to shewe an euidence,
From all mys-chefe some syke man to releue
Whiche lyeth outraged by mortall violence,
But, to declare the magnyfycence
Of Christe Jesu, anone without more
To helth agayne suche one he shall restore,
Not in couert, but in your alther syght,—
We haue suche trust in his parfynesse.
Fro whose doctryne, as we haue behyght,
We shall not chaunge for deth nor distresse;
Without faynyng or any doublenesse
Your counsellyng in Christis holy name
Folowe his teachyng and to do the same.
Ye threte fast to maken vs aferde:
But god alone he is our defence;
Jesu is stronge agayne spere and swerde:
Vnder whose pauise of parfyte pacience
We shall abyde; concludyng in sentence:
We forsake all false ydolatrye
And for Christis sake redy for to dye.
Fauour of blode nor none allyaunce,
Cherysshyng of treasure nor promyse of kynred,
Experte kynred nor none acqueyntance,
Fayre behestes, / manaces nor hatered,—
All set asyde, both loue and drede,
The fayth of Christ of hole herte we haue take,
All false ydols and mawmettes we forsake.”
Of this answere the paynyms almost wode,
Lyke tygrys fell, / vengeable as lyons
Of innocentes to shede the christen blode,
With sharpe swerdes lyke rauenous felons
They kyll and flee of all conditions,
As hongry wolfes in theyr beastiall rage,
Whithout exception of olde or yonge of age.
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The father ther agayn all skylle and ryght
Of his sonne toke his deadly wounde,
Brother and brother was slayne in that fyght,
And with theyr speres, / that were square & rounde,
Theyr nygh cosyns were glad to confounde,—
There was none spared of blode nor kynred,
Without mercy, eche others blode to shed;
Of aged folke there was no reuerence,
In that vnkyndly, sodeyn, cruell shoure,
Myddell age, / nor age of innocence,
Nor blode of blode, lyst knowe his neybour (!)
Nor none to other lyst shewe his fauour;—
Echon were slayne, the story telleth thus,
And were conuerted by Amphibalus.
Frowarde tyrantes that this people sleeth,
Most mercyles, with pollax, swerde and knyfe!
Eche preased in aforne other towarde the deth—
So amerous was that charytable stryfe—
Lyke folke that were glad to lese theyr lyfe,
Of one corage and of one pacience
To dye for Christe—/ so hole was theyr feruence.
Amonge these holy seyntes euerychone
That forsoke theyr towne and theyr cite,
There was none lefte alyue but one
Of all that come Amphibalus to see:
Whiche by occasyon of his infirmyte
Abode behynde, feble and impotent:
Whiche at theyr dyenge myght not be present.
Whan Amphibalus sawe them all deed
Lyggyng in the felde, / turned vp set downe,
With pitous chere sawe theyr woundes blede:
Of wofull herte and compassyon
Deuoutly made his commendation,
Prayenge Jesu with voyce full pytously
On all tho saules to haue mercy.
At Lychefelde fyll all this auenture,
This great slaughter, and made is mention—/
Of whiche slaughter, recorde of olde scripture,
By dayes olde named was the towne:
This worde “Lychefelde” by interpretation
Is to say in that tonge, as I rede:
A felde that lyeth full of bodyes deed.
There these martyrs suffered passyon,
Of one corage and of one stablenes.
The paynyms, in theyr opinion
Most obstinate, in theyr cursednes
Made a vowe in theyr wodenes
Neuer to eate for none occasyon
Tyll Amphibalus were brought to theyr towne.
Lyke wodemen they about hym ryde;
The holy man, playnly to declare,
With speres wounded body, backe and syde,
Went aforne them with his fete all bare;
The more vngoodly / they dyd with hym fare,
The more the martyr with chere and visage
Patiently suffred theyr owne outrage.
To hym they had frowarde, fell langage;
The stone weye dyd hym great duresse.
And though that he felte in his passage
Vnder his fete constreynt of great sharpenes,
Mytygation of all his heuynes
Was, whan he the place dyd approche
Where Albon lay graue vnder a roche.
The homecydes of whom to-forne I tolde,
Had in this whyle a maner repentance,
Bakwarde amonge as they gan beholde
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The people slayne of theyr allyance
By theyr owne furyous gouernance.
For they them selfe, lyke folke that were wode,
The slaugter made vpon theyr owne blode:
Lokyng behinde fyrst whā they toke hede & beheld
There owne brethern, cosyns and kynred
By theyr handes lay slayne in the felde:
They gan to wepe / to se theyr woundes blede.
This same tyme, or they toke any hede,
They founde a man that lay lanquisshyng
Vpon the felde, moste pitous compleynyng.
This syke man with a full deadly face—
For great constreynt of his malady—
Sawe Amphibalus forby shulde passe;
With deadly voyce gan to hym crye:
“Seruant of god, do me socour, or I dye!
For Jesu sake lowly I the requere
To helpe his seruant that lyeth in myschefe here!
For by the callyng of his holy name
I haue suche trust in Christ Jesu and the:
Though I lye here impotent and lame,
By thy merytes thou mayst helpe me
To be made hole of this infyrmyte”—
Maugre paynyms / that can about hym prece,
Of this clamour wolde not he sece,
In his prayer he doth alway continue—
Suche fayth he had in his opinion.
Paynyms sawe he was importune
And so stable in his action,
Hadden in disdeyne and in derysion
His great noyse, / but magre her felnesse
He arose vp hole of all his olde sykenesse.
This seke man that lay bounde in payne
Of olde sykenesse, greuous and importable,
By Amphibalus, lay bounde in a chayne,
Was made all hole / and of his lymmes stable.—
This can the lorde, whiche is most mercyable,
Of syke folkes here theyr complayntes
And worche myracles for his holy sayntes.—
This myracle gracious and vnkouth
Fyrst of this man releued of his sykenesse—
The deth of the martyrs gan sprynge northe and southe,
Of theyr wylfull sufferance with mekenes.
Homwarde agayne paynyms gan them dresse;—
But this myracle whan they dyd auerte,
They were greatly astonyed in theyr herte.
Amonge them selfe they brake (out) openly,
Though they to Christ were contraryous,
Of this myracle wrought sodenly
They spared not playnly to say thus:
“The god of christen is great and maruaylous,
Great is his vertue—the deed beareth wytnesse—
To heale a man so sone in his sykenes.”
As they tolde erst, / paynyms at last
Wonder desyrous towarde your contre,
They rode armed and began to hye fast,
And sped them so that they myght se
The crested walles of theyr citie.
As they thought that tyme for the best
After labour a whyle for to rest—
They were oppressed with hunger and with thurst:
For that tyme lyst no forther for to ryde,
And eche one of them folowyng theyr owne lust
Chose his grounde, a certayne home (!) to abyde;
Their shelde, theyr speres set them downe a syde;
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Them to refresshe layser they haue founde,—
Whyles Amphibalus lay in his feters bounde.
The turmentours refreshed at the best,
As I haue tolde, after theyr werynesse.
The holy martyr myght haue no pece nor rest,
Bounden in chaynes by full great duresse;
In his most labour and greattest distresse,
Maugre paynyms, whan he a layser caught,
To his most foone the worde of god he taught.
This meane whyle þt all this thyng was wrought
As ye haue herde, come tydyng to the towne
Howe Amphibalus was to the citie brought,
Maister vnto Albon, as made is mention.
At whose entrynge great people there come downe,
Thought in them selfe all theyr heuynesse
By his comyng was turned in to gladnes;
Dempte amonge them bothe one and all
The matyre had standyng other wyse:
Howe Amphibalus from Christis fayth was fall,
Of that lawe lefte all his olde emprise,
Come to theyr goddes to do sacrifice,
All theyr frendes with them were repayrde,
Of whom toforne they dispayred.
The beastiall folke supposed in certayne
Howe all the people that went by assent
To Amphibalus, were come home agayne,
By force of them / that were for them sent.
But they fayled foule in theyr entent:
For through the towne the noyse went anone:—
Lyke as it was—/ howe they were deed euerychone.
Agayne Christis (fayth) of malyce set a-fyre,
Homecyded (!) turmentoures that dyd this cruell dede,
Whiche fyll vpon them in theyr cruell ire,
Tho that made the martyrs for to blede,
Of indignation and of great hatered:
The selfe same made relation
Of theyr slaughter through verolamy towne.
The fathers wepte with sorowfull syghes great
Whan they herde theyr sonnes were deed,
Pytous mothers theyr sobbyng can not let—
Whose watrye eien with wepyng made red;
Through the citie bothe in lengthe and brede
Wydowes, maydens ran with theyr here to-torne,
That so sodenly haue theyr frendes lorne.
Suche pitous wepyng, I trowe, not ther was
At the brennyng of the famous Ilyon
In Troye, whan the stede of brasse
Was by sleyght compassed of Synon;
For through euery strete of Verolamy towne
This noyse was herde deedly and mortall
Lyke as men synge at feastes funerall.
In theyr most wofull lamentation
They said amonge them, with hygh and low estate:
“The tyme is come of our destruction!
Cite of citezyns forsake and desolate!
Most outragyous and most disconsolate
To be noted: of furyous, fell hatered
Blode agayn blode so felly to procede!
For our defence we haue nowe none excuse,
Folke infortunate by deuision;
We shall from hensforth be called the refuge (!),
As folke abiecte, of euery nacion;
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So importable is our confusyon
That we be lyke neuer to fynde grace
Amonge no folke to shewe ous grace(!).
We can nor may our seluen acquite
For our excuse a reason for to make,
But here after that folkes wyll vs awyte:
Our kynne, our blode theyr goddes haue forsake,
On whom vengeance so mortally was take
In straunge countre, so, playnly to descryue,
Amonge also that none was lefte alyue.
Alas alas, vnburyed in the felde
Cast out to the beastes that walke in pasture!—
Kynne agayne kynne in armes bare on shelde
An hatefull warre, / a warre agayne nature!—
Whiche lye nowe deed without sepulture—
So late done, it may not be socoured—
Of foule and beast a pray to be deuoured!
Alas, our ioye is turned in to dispayre,
The staffe broke of our vnweldy age,
Our harpe troubled! / our fortune is not fayre—
Frowarde to vs she turneth her visage.
Wo to that man that with his langage
Caused Albon our goddes to forsake
And magre them / the fayth of Christ to take!
Whiche hath, alas, perturbed the cite,
Brought our welfare to desolation,
Grounde and gynnyng of this mortalite
Of our alyes and citezyns of the towne,
Whose bodies nowe lyen vpsetdowne.
O myghty goddes of power immortall,
Defende the people of our cite royall!
To our request your eares downe enclyne:
Take vengeance vpon our enemy
Whiche is cause of our mortall ruyne
And of our myschefe the rote fynally;
Reuenge your wronge, ye that be most myghty,
On hym that causeth / that we be seke and grone!
Let the vengeance rebounde on his persone!”
Of their plaintes and of their wofull clamours
They seased not, lyke folkes most vengeable.
Tyll it fyll so that (the) turmentours
Perceyued well they were not treatable,
Howe theyr sorowe was intollerable;
Of compassyon lyst no lenger spare
Of all this thynge the trouthe to declare.
All sodeynly they began to abrayde
Theyr deedly sorowes and playntes to refrayne:
“Of the most worthy of the towne, they sayde,
O citezyns, / why lyst ye so complayne?
Leue your wepyng, / your teares doth restraynt!
For, by report of vs that were present,
Voyde of disceyte or meanyng fraudolent,
Ye haue more cause of gladnesse than wepyng,
And greatter matter of consolation
Than of distresse or of complaynyng:
For, if the grounde be sought out by reason
Touchyng your frendes slaughter and passyon,
Ye haue more grounde—vs lyst not for to fayne—
For to be glad / than for theyr deth to prayne (!).
By sondry tokens that were contemplatyfe
Of signes shewed—/ the deed beareth wytnes—
Theyr deth was entred in to euerlastyng lyfe,
Ende of sorowe concluded on gladnes,
From this darke valey went vp to bryghtnes,
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Where day departed is from the nyght
And bryght Phebus leseth neuer his lyght.
It is accordyng full well to nature
A man to wepe for frendes that be dede;
But agaynwarde, by recorde of scripture,
For Christis sake / who lyst his blode to shede,
A thousande folde shall receyue his mede
And for his lyfe, / whiche is but transytory,
Eternally to abyde and lyue in glory;
Where is no complaynt, / nor no parte of sorowe,
But euerlastyng gladnesse in that place,
Ilyche newe both at eue and at morowe;
From wo to ioye, from sobbyng to solace;
Wher deth hath lost his power to manace.
Fye on dispeyre, / for dethe to make stryfe
Where ioye foloweth of euerlastyng lyfe!
Dethe in this worlde shulde not be complayned
Of them that passe from worldely vanite,
Suche as by grace and mercy haue attayned
With Christ to reigne in his eternall see,
Where ioye is euer and all felicite;
And for suche folke, mydday, eue and morowe,
It were wodenes for to make sorowe.
Ye be bounde, playnly to conclude,
To thanke god for frendes that ye mysse,
Whiche hath chose so great a multitude
Of this citie / and brought them vnto blysse;
Of ioye perpetuall they may neuer mysse,
Makyng a chaunge from this temporall
For thylke lyfe aboue, celestiall.
Take hede hereto / and yeueth good audience
Of thynge that we shall make rehersale,
And it imprenteth in your aduertence.
Touchyng your frendes slayne in batayle,
Whom that we dyd so mortally assayle!
All this consydered: to complayne ye do wronge,
As ye shall knowe paraunter or ought longe.”
Aforne rehersed the same turmentours
With a great othe, present there all the towne,
To them not only / but to theyr successours
To be reported through all that regyon.
Maden there open protestation,
Touchyng this mater they cast to expresse
Shall haue no touche nor spot of falsenesse.
They gan theyr matter, brefly to conclude,
Touchyng the story to all theyr entent
In Verolamy, to all the multitude
Of great and small beinge there present.
Rehersyng fyrst howe that they were sent
With myghty honde to all contres enuiron
To seke theyr frendes, were fled from the towne;
Vnder these wordes spake for theyr partie:
“By your byddyng we went, as ye wel knowe,
With force and armys, / serchyng to espie,
To northwales, in countres high and lowe.
Tyll it fell so within a lyttell throwe,
Lad by fortune / we founde them euerychone
With hym that whylom was maister to Albon—
Out of this citie they were fled and gone;
Some that were full nygh of your allye:
72

Vpon the maister abydyng of Albon
We founde eke gethered a great company.
And of Pectis we dyd also espie,
With walsemen, of newe that were drawe
And conuerted vnto christen lawe
By thylke clerke that all these thynges wrought:
From whom they wolde departe in no maner.
Amonge all our kynred out we sought,
Toke them aparte / and with full frendly chere,
With fayre speche, requestes and prayere,
Maynte with manassis / and softnesse of langage,
From that doctryne to reuoke theyr corage.
But euer they stode in suche obstinacy,
On hym abydyng eche houre and moment:
By theyr answere rather for to dye
All of accorde and echeone of assent;
Lyst in no wyse folowe our entent.
Whan we myght not our purpose recure,
We lefte our tretes and toke our armour.
Of whiche they were not astonyed nor aferde,
For Christis sake / eche redyer than other
Who myght fyrst renne vnder the swerde.
In theyr metyng brother slayne of brother—
There was suche prese it myght be non other;
For Christis sake echon were fayne
For a prerogatyue / who myght fyrst be slayne.
Vpon the sonne, / whiche was the father heyre,
The father shewed most cruell violence—
Whiche in nature was nother good nor fayre;
The sonne also, voyde of all beneuolence,
To his father dyd no maner of reuerence;—
There was no mercy, / but marciall outerage,
Without exception of olde or yonge of age.
Pacience was captayne in the felde
Of them that suffered deth for Christis sake;
Theyr spere was hope; / mekenes was theyr shelde;—
Other defence they lyst not for to make
In thylke quarell / whiche they had take,
Lyst not departe tyll spent was theyr blode,
Whiche on the playn ran large as a flode.
The lorde that sytteth aboue the sterres clere
Saugh and behelde the great pacience
Of his knyghtes, / whose blode lyke a ryuere
Ran in the felde by mortall violence:
Whom to comforte, of his magnificence,
The heuen all open to shewe his great vertue,
Sayd vnto them that blessed lorde Jesu:
““Cometh vp to me, my knyghtes most entere,
Proued in batayle ryght victorious,
Assendeth vp aboue the sterres clere!
My gate is open and redy is my house
Agayne your comyng, most ryche and glorious,
With tryumphe that neuer shall disseuer,
And with a palme that shall lasten euer,
O Paradyse / o chosen citezyns,
For your notable tryumphall prowesse,
Makyng your clayme as very denzyns
There to abyde your knyghtly nobylnes;
To spende your blode / was shewed no scarsenesse,
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For me to suffre deth by great outrage:
Digne amonge martyrs / come take your heritage!
The amerous fayre (!) of feruent desyres
In your conquest of most souereyne price
Haue gyue you title to be possessioners,
Eternally to clayme, lyke your auise,
Abydyng space in the heuenly paradise,
To be registred fre from all worldly stryfe
With the holy martyrs in the boke of lyfe.””
From this worlde we saugh them flee to heuen—
By many signes whiche that dyd appere—
From deth to lyfe / aboue the sterres seuen;
We stode astonyed, beholdyng the manere
Howe Christe Jesu with a benyngne chere
Lyst to receyue into his regyon
These holy martyrs of Verolamy towne.—
In these nombre of martyrs that were founde
Full nyne hundred and nynty rekened clene
And nyne therto, slayne with many a wounde:
Of whose blode, / as it was well sene,
All in to redde stayned was the grene,
The flode so great of blode that come downe lowe
That one from an other no man coude knowe—
They lay so oppressed vnder the horse fete,
No man myght haue very knowlegyng;
The blody streme dyd ouer-flowe and flete
Theyr deedly faces vpon the grounde lyggyng.
But sodenly there fell a wonders thyng:
Eche from other only by goddes grace
Was thorough the felde knowen by the face,
By the prayer of Amphibalus,
Of the deed bodyes with woundes grene—
A great myracle—the story telleth thus:
Theyr woundes hole, that no carectes were sene,
Ioyned together and souded eke so clene;
A straunge syght, / a syght of great delyte:
The blody streme as mylke ranne all whyte.
Thus by prayer of one ryghtfull man
Of theyr woundes, fyrst fearefull and terryble,
There was no carecte, as we reherse can,
By apperance that outwarde was visible—
For vnto god nothyng is impossyble;
For they that were mangled and disfourmed,
By grace and prayer sodeynly were refourmed.
The people, frowarde in theyr opinion,
Seing this myracle, and were there present,
By a contraryous exposition
Sayd aye the worst in theyr false iugement,
And vengably, echon of assent,
Of false malyce dyd theyr busy cure
To denye them theyr kyndly sepulture,
But cast them to beastis, of malyce and disdayne,
To suche as weren disposed to rauyne,
Without reuerence, lyke an olde carayne,—
They agayne them so felly gan maligne.
But Christe Jesus most gracious and benygne,
74

To preserue his martyrs by myracle,
Agayne paynyms haue shewed an obstacle.
A wolfe come downe with sturdy violence,
Terryble of loke and furyous of chere,
Agayne beastis wylde to make resystence,
Towarde the seintes that they came no nere;
An egle also with persyng eien clere
Houyng alofte, / as all men behelde,
Fro touche of foule / kepte all day the felde.
Wherof Pictis greatly gan maruayle,
They of waled (!) had a maner of drede,
Thought in them selues, these tokēs may not fayle,
It cometh of god and of no mans dede;
And of reason, whan they toke hede
Fyrst of the wolfe and of the egle alofte,
Stode astonyed and gan to wonder ofte.
It is appropred to the wolfe of nature,
As clerkes say, mannes flesshe to attame,
Amonge all caryns, where they may it recure,
They most reioyse / and thereof haue most game;
But he that maketh wylde beastis tame,
Dauteth serpentes / whiche on grounde lowe crepe,
Hath made a wolfe his martyrs for to kepe,
From all beastis disposed to rauyne,
By his myracle and gracious worchyng;—
And by his power heuenly and deuine
Of later date he yafe eke the kepyng
Of blessed Edmonde, / mayde, / martyr / and kyng,
Vnto a wolfe the heed most vertuous,
It to preserue from beastis rauenous.
In this myracle, / who can vnderstande,
To be noted is great conuenience
Of martyrs / whiche were with violent hande
Slayne for the fayth by humble pacience.
And thylke martyrs, / whiche made no resistence,
So were slayne for Christ, / as it is founde,
At Lychefelde, / with many a blody wounde,
Folowyng the ensample, these martyrs euerychon,
For Christ deth sufferyng and full great payne,
Of theyr prince, / that called was Albon,
In his tyme stewarde of Brytayne.
As I trust, these noble princes twayne,
Edmonde and Albon, / these ioyned two
Shall saue this lande in that we haue to do.
This kynges banner, of assure is the felde,
Therin of golde be crownes thre;
The same campe beareth Albon in his shylde,
Bete in the myddes of golde a fresshe sawtre.
Agayn our enmyes, / whan they together be
In one assembled, / shall make our partye stronge,
Magre all tho that wolde done vs wronge:
Of est-Englande kynge and champyon,
Blessed Edmonde, shall his baner sprede;
The prince of knyghtes in Brutis Albion
And prothomartyr shall vs helpe at nede;
A thousande martyrs that theyr blode shede
For Christis fayth slayne at Lychefelde,
Shall vs defende with spere, sworde and shelde.—
These tokens sene, the paynems gan to sease
Of theyr pursute and furyous wodenesse,
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And by myracle they sodenly gan to prease
To kysse the relyques, / on knees gan them dresse,
With many signes and tokens of mekenesse;
And where afore as they began to maligne,
They shewed them selfe most goodly & benygne.
Theyr olde malyce and theyr frowarde disdeyne—
Hauyng the matters fyrst in derysyon—
From that conceyte they turned be agayne,
And caught in theyr herte a newe opinion:
Them to worshyp with great deuocion;
Gafe thankyng to god / & were therof full fayne
That suche a nombre in that lande was slayne
Of holy martyrs, and holowed with theyr blode.
Whiche thynge to put in token of victorie
Perpetually they thought that it was good
Theyr nombre and names to set in memorie,
Whiche fro this lyfe fleynge and transitorie
Be nowe translated / where they may not mysse
Eternally with Christ to reigne in blysse.—
Whan the turmentours had theyr tales tolde
Ryght as it fell in order of euery thynge,
Of Verolamy the people, yonge and olde,
Present there that tyme, / herde all theyr talkynge:
The more partye lefte theyr wepynge;
For by reporte only of theyr langage
Of theyr sorowe / the constraynt gan to swage.
They gan the lorde to magnifie and prayse
And to reioyse the glorie of theyr kynred,
Whiche by grace he lyste so hygh vprayse
By mertyrdome theyr precious blode to blede,
For his sake dye without any drede;
All with one voyce atones in sentence
This was theyr noyse with deuoute reuerence:
“Great is that god, / greatest and glorious,
Aboue all goddes of most magnificence,
That maketh his seruantes so victorious
To gette so great tryumphe by theyr meke paciēce,
And by his myghty imperyall influence,
This lorde Jesu, most gracious and benigne,
Shewed in theyr deth so many an vncouth signe:
Theyr grene woundes terryble to beholde
With sherpe swerdes seuered ferre a sonder,
For lacke of blode / whan they were sterke & colde,
One parte there / and an other parte yonder:
The redde blode—/ this was a great wonder—
Turned to mylke whyte, as openly was sayne;
Theyr woundes large hath souded newe agayne.
He may be called a leche, veryly,
Whiche hath practised so hygh a medycyne
Suche mortall hurtes to cure them sodeynly;
Whose royall bawme is heuenly and deuine;—
Galiene coude not imagyne
Nor ypocras duryng all theyr lyues
Suche consoudes nor suche senatiues.”
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The vertue shewed and power glorious
Of Christ Jesu by great experience.
And of his martyr, blessed Amphibalus,
That day declared by notable euidence,
By whose prayer, they beinge in presence,
These myracles, / who so lyst take hede,
The same day accomplysshed were in dede:
Whiche thyng remembred, the iuge was nygh wode,
Whose sodeyn ire no wyght coude appese;—
Great preace about in the place ther stode,
They of this matyr felte so great disease;
But for he cast hym fynally to please
The paynyms, in his malencoly,
Distraught of rancour, thus he gan to cry:
“Howe longe shall we endure or susteyne
This great iniury, / sclaunder / and clamour?
Let vs serche out what it shulde mene,
This hatefull noyse and furyous romour!
But I wote well grounde of this errour
That this clerke / whiche not yore agon,
As ye wele knowe, was maister to saynt Albon.
Whose doctrine / if it were vertuous
Or come of god, as ye reporte and say,
He shulde not haue demeaned hym thus,
So great a nombre suffre for to dye
Of innocentes that dyd his lust obeye;
But it is lyke, I do well apperceyue,
This clerke was busye the people to disseyue.
By some false crafte of incantation
Or by some sotell and straunge experience,
Folke forto blynde by some illusyon
Or by collusyon of false apparence,
Lyke as it were soth in existence,
With some coniurison or some charme made of new,
A thynge that is nought / to shewe as it were trew;
For by his compassed false deception
The worthyest borne of this cite
Haue ben perysshed, / as made is mention,
And brought to nought by great aduersite.
Wherupon I make a newe decree:
Payne of deth, / yeuyng this sentence
To the bochers, / who that yeueth credence,—
That all other therby may be aferde
By playne ensample of theyr punysshon,—
Where they be founde, go vnto the swerde
Without mercy of any remyssyon.”
And after this he sent for all the towne,
Hygh estates and lowe dyd do call;
And whan they come, he sayde to them all:
“Let vs procede and werken fynally
And therunto set an ordinance,
All of Assens, vpon our ennemy,
As we are bounde, take on hym vengeance!”
That euery man gan hymselfe auaunce
With suche weapyn playnly as they founde,
Sworde, / knyfe, / dagger / or what come first to hāde.
So great people out of wales come than
In theyr furyous rage and cruelte
That there was lefte vnnethes any man
Whiche that abode within the citie.
Eche cryed on other: / “go we hense, let se
Who that can fyrst make hym selfe stronge
To be auenged vpon our great wronge!”
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Theyr goinge out was to the north partye;—
A medeled people of folkes nyse and rude,
That no man coude remembre fynally
The great nombre nor the multitude;
All the citie, playnly to conclude,
Was almost voyde—myn auctor tell can—
Lefte alone of woman, chylde and man.
Amonge the bochers and turmentours stronge
One was marked aforne in that passage,
Whiche that thought his felowes abode longe,
Ranne forth fast to get hym auantage,
And lyke a wolfe in his cruell rage
Stynt neuer tyll that he founde
The place where Amphibalus was bounde;
Lyke a bocher persed his entrayles,
This homycyde that ranne afore the route,
Rafle his nauyll and toke out his bowelles
And at a stake / whiche that stode without
Tyed lyke ropes euyn rounde about,
And with a scurge the martyr he gan make
In sercle-wyse to go aboute the stake.
By the grace of god in his sufferyng,
Felly assayled with many a great turment,
Shewed no token of sorowe nor grudgyng,
But alway one, stable in his entent;
Tyll his bowels were rased out and rent
With turmentours in theyr cruell rage,
He chaunged no chere of loke nor visage.
Two turmentours—accorsed all theyr lyues!—
Amphibalus set vp for a signe
And cast at hym swerde, dagger, spere and knyues;
And euer the more agayne hym they dyd maligne,
The more they founde hym gracious and benigne.—
A pronosticke maruaylous in nature,
Saue goddes grace, howe he myght endure;
To wonder vpon, a merueylous myracle
Was sene that day in peoples syght:
Howe this martyr, vp set for a spectacle,
So longe lyued agayne natures ryght;
His blode was spent, and lost was all his myght,
And his humedite called radicall
In synewes and ioyntes wasted was at-all.
His soule, his spirite, his goostly remembrance
Stode in theyr strength of spirituall swetnes,
His heuenly feruence, / his charite in substance
Appalled not by no foren duresse;
Fors bore his baner agayne his mortall feblenes—
To preue this texte, / sayd ago full longe:
Howe persed loue / as any deth is stronge.
O bodely force feble to stande vpryght
After his flesshely disposition,
In goostly strength lyke Hercules of myght,
For vertuous noblesse egall to Sampson
Proued this day in Brutis Albion
Was Amphibalus, / with whom, who lyst aduerte,
Was nothyng lefte / saue only tonge and herte.
In his herte, as longe as ther was lyfe,
He ceased not gods worde to preache,
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Grace was guyde, and trouthe his preseruatife,
Fayth bare vp all, / charite was his leche;
His tonge enspired, the people for to teache;
His body feble, / his membres impotent,
Yet tonge and herte were of one assent.
His herte stronge, stable as dyamant—
Fayth had of stele forged his ymage,
His hope in god was so perseuerant:
Dispayre in hym myght haue none auantage.
For his gracious influent langage
And by myracles, in hym shewed than,
That day to Christ was turned many a man.
His doctrine fyxe in his (!) remembrance,
Most souerently than gan therin delyte,
Let theyr ydols go vnto a myschaunce
Whiche myght them nother helpe nor profyte;
God with his grace lyst them to visite;
Of one assent / gan them redy to make
After his counsell the fayth of Christ to take.
They were compuncte and maden theyr prayer
With repentance and voyce most lamentable
To graunt them parte of that he suffered there
Touchyng his passyon greuous and importable,
In that ioye / whiche is perdurable,
Touchyng the syghtes that they had sene
Therof by grace to put them in certene,
Lyke as theyr trust and theyr perfyte beleue
Was in Jesu of herte, thought and dede,
With hole affection, that it shall them not greue
For Christes sake theyr blode in hast to blede;
They stode so hole, hauyng of deth no drede,
In theyr opinion our fayth to magnyfye,
That they dispised all ydolatrye.
Theyr prince and iuge the whyle in presence stode
Lyke a man fall in to a franesye,
Voyde of reason, and as a tyrant wode
Commaunded all his turmentours to hye
Without exception of lowe or hygh partye
To kyll and sleye—and no mercy take—
That haue theyr goddes of dispite forsake.
They preased in, the martyr to encombre,
Lyke gredy wolfes or tygrys of assent,
They slough that day a thousande full in nombre,
For to obeye his fell commandement;
Amphibalus beinge ther present,
Whiche in spirite besyly gan entende
To Christ Jesu theyr soules to commende.
A cruell paynem, stoute, indurate and bolde,
Spake to the martyr of hatefull cruelte:
“Whiche of the citie other newe or olde
In any wyse hath trespased agayne the
Whiche hast caused theyr great aduersite,
These innocent people in so shorte a whyle
With thy traynes and sleyghtes to begyle?
Our statutes and lawes thou hast foyled
By occasyon of thy parlous langage,
And our citie most cruelly spoyled
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Of her people, bothe olde and yonge of age,—
Cause of theyr losse and mortall damage;
And thou aforne them forwounded to the deth
Stondest in poynt to yelde vp thy brethe—
In suche disioynt thou mayst not recure,
Dissentrayled bounden to a stake;—
And our goddes thou hast aboue measure
Felly prouoked vengeance on the to take.
Yet, and thou woldest repent and forsake
Thy Christis secte and fro thy fayth withdrawe
And of hole herte turne to our lawe,
Worshyp our god / whom thou hast offended,
And be in wyll to do so no more:
Of thyn hurtes thou myghtest be amended—
And axe grace, as I haue tolde before,—
To helthe agayne they myght wele restore
Thy woundes greuous / whiche seme incurable,
Make them full hole—they be so merciable
Vpon wretches benyngnly to rewe,
Suche as lyst falle in theyr grace
And wyll repent lowly and be trewe,
Aske mercy of theyr olde trespas:
They may not fayle within a lyttell space
To be accepte, wounded, halte and lame.
By my counsell do thy selfe the same,
Whiche standest nowe as a spectacle
Afforne the people whiche haue them(!) in disdeyne;
Praye our goddes to shewe some myracle
By theyr power, that it may be sene,
That thou maiste be restored newe agayne
To that mercy, / and afterwardes be assured
Of all thy woundes for to be recured!
If thou thus do, they wyll be gracious
To modifie theyr vengable violence.”
“Let be, thou paynym, / quod Amphibalus,
Feble is theyr myght and mortall in sentence;
In thy langage thou dost great offence
To yefe laude, worshyp or praysyng
To fals ydoles that haue no seing—
For they be voyde of grace and all vertue,
Haue nother tyme nor immaginatyfe:
There is no god but my lorde Jesu,
That deed bodyes restoreth agayne to lyfe;
He is my helth and my restoratife.
All your goddes of whiche nowe ye tell
Ben but fendes that suffre payne in hell.
Them to prayse and worshyp ye be blynde,
For depe in hell is theyr abydyng;
Ye do great wronge them to haue in mynde
Whiche euer endure in complaynt and wepyng,
And were tyrantes here in theyr lyuyng
And of false drede toke theyr originall
To be defied, knowyng they be mortall.
In hell is nowe theyr habitation
Perpetually ordeyned to abyde,
Of your false goddes the commemoration
Is holden ther with all theyr pompe and pride,
With fyre beset on euery syde
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Whiche neuer is queynte of infernall feruence
Nor the worme deed of theyr conscience.
All they that serue them in theyr lyue
Shall of theyr paynes be with them partable:
Out of charyte folke that lyst to stryue,
False aduoutrers, / detractours de testable,
And homycydes most abhomyn(a)ble,—
That weren or ben here of theyr assent,
Haue and shall haue parte of theyr turment,
Lyke theyr desertes they must haue theyr mede.
And thou, paynym, shalte haue thy parte in payne
For thy false errour, but thou repent in dede,
Shalte eke with them, I tell the in certeyne,
Ben embrased in a fyrye chayne,
With Sathan stocked amyd the smokes blake.
But, if thou wylte thy mawmettry forsake,
Forsake the ryghtes of false ydolatry,
Thy secte, thyn errour of olde vanyte,
Dispayre the not, / for great is the mercy
Of Christe Jesu, / whiche wyll accepte the,
With all other that here present be,
So that they wyll of fayth and hole entent
Receyue of baptisme the holy sacrament.
Fyrst of baptisme the vertue to deuise
Lyke as it is grounded in scripture:
It wassheth a-way, / who so lyst aduertise,
Of mannes synne all fylthe and all odure,
Causeth a man all grace to recure,
Openeth heuen, as sayen these clerkes,
Forsaketh sathan and all his mortall workes.
Tho that were children of perdition
Vnder the fende by synne and wretchednes,
By grace of baptisme, / as made is mention,
Our fayth receyued, standeth in sykernesse.
Flete (!) to the grace and doth your busynesse,
As I to-forne haue to you deuised,
Forsake your goddes / and beth in hast baptised!
Water of baptisme doth synnes puryfye,
Water of confort and consolation,
Clenseth the fylthe of all ydolatrye,
Originall well of our sauation,
Condite and ryuer of our redemption,
Called in scripture water regeneratyfe,
Whiche restoreth a man vnto gostly lyfe;
It is the heed-springe and the gostly streme
Whiche conueyeth a man to paradise,
Ryuer and porte vnto Jerusalem,
Of all ryuers this ryuer beareth the price;
As to folkes that be prudent and wyse,
Suche as wasshe them in this holsome ryuer,
Auoydeth from them all infernall daunger
And scoureth away all venym serpentyne
And spottis blacke called originall
By grace causeth, / whiche that is deuine,
Renewyng, men to be celestiall;
And for a conclusion in this mater fynall:
81

To forsake your goddes / whiche may do you no goode,
By my counsell be bathed in this flode!
The streme therof shall glad your citie,
And race a-way the rust of olde outrages,
And with a flowe of all prosperite
Renewe both your herte and your corages,
And you preserue from infernall damages.
Ye stande free, cheseth nowe of tweyne:
Eternall lyfe / or euerlastyng peyne!”
After these notable exhortations,
Grounded on fayth and perfyte charyte,
The paynyms, lyke tygrys or lyons,
In theyr hasty furyous cruelte
Fyllen vpon the martyr, bounde to a tree,
On eche syde assayled hym at ones
With rounde kalyons and with sharpe stones.
A great myracle / god lyst that day to shewe.
And this martyr, lyke goddes champyon,
Beset all aboute with paynyms not a fewe
Stode aye vpryght, / no partye downe,
Stable in prayer and in orison,
Erecte to god, / not turnyng north ne southe,
The worde of god neuer out of his mouthe—
Saue the word of god / & his grace, was impossible
To abyde that bronte, where he had force or might;
In soule and spirite stondyng inui(n)sible,
The eien vp lyfte of his inwarde syght
Towarde heuen—Phebus was neuer so bryght
At mydsomer in his myd-day spere
As he sawe Jesu in the heuen appere
On the ryght syde of his father dere—
Fyne of his tryumphe / and of his turmentry—
Herde of angels with sugred notes clere
Celestiall songe / whiche in theyr melody
Gan prayse the lorde; / and there he gan espy
His blessed Albon, clad in purple wede—
Token, of Christ he lyst his blode to blede.
To that martyr amonge martyrs all,
Of trust assured whylom betwene them twayne,
Amphibalus for helpe began to call:
“O blessed Albon, that sufferdist great payne
For Christis sake, of mercy not disdeyne
To pray Jesu that lyst for vs to dye
To sende his angels my iournay to conueye,
That cruel Sathan trouble not my passage
Nor that his malyce may clayme in me no ryght!”
By the martyr rehersed his langage,
Come two angels from heuen with great lyght;
This voyce eke herde in all the peoples syght—
There as he stode bounden to a stake
Vpon the poynt to dye for goddes sake:
“O Amphibalus, after thy deuise,
With thy disciple, glorious prince Albon,
Thou shalte this day be in paradyse;
Ryght in erthe as ye were both one,
With your triumphe ye shall together gone,
82

And with your palmes ye shall be in glorie,
With a tytle of euerlastyng victorie,
Amonge martyrs receyue this your mede,
Lyke your deserte, of eternall guerdon:
A crowne of golde / and a purple wede,
Forged with saintes in the heuenly mansion.
Lyke to rubies most souerayne of renowne
Albon and thou perpetually shall shyne
In Verolamy, the citie to enlumyne.”
In this whyle two angels downe descende
To the holy martyr for his gostly socoure,
On his soule benygly to attende,
Whytter than snowe or any lyly floure,
His gost conueyeng vnto the heuenly towre,—
Paynyms this tyme bydyng in the felde
Greatly abasshed / whan they this thyng behelde.
Herder of herte than flynt or any stone,
After his spirite was borne vp to heuen,
Turmentours, in theyr malyce ay one,
Feruent in fyry ire as any leuen:
Lyke as iewes fell vpon saynt Steuen,
So were they busy of hatefull cursednesse
The deed body with stones to oppresse:
They had the martyr in so great disdayne,
After his deth gan make a newe affray,
That no memory shulde of hym be sayne
Vpon the grounde where that he lay.
Safe ther was one / whiche that stole awaye
The deed corps / and dyd his busy cure
Most secretely to make his sepulture.
He was christen, the man whiche dyd his payne
The deed corps to close it in the grounde
In secrete wyse, tyll Jesu lyst ordeyne
And prouide a tyme that he may be founde
Whiche for the fayth suffered many a wounde.
And this done by grace for the nones
Maugre all tho that cast on hym stones.
Dukes, erles and lordes of the towne
Were ouer-come almost with fastyng;
Amonge paynyms rose a discention,
That wolde haue had the body in kepyng:
Whiche had auowed in theyr out-goynge
To brynge the martyr by othe and surete
Other quicke or deed home to theyr cite;
Amonge them selfe of vengeance gan to stryue,
With swordes drawe fell at deuision,
By their promyse outher deed or a lyue
To brynge the martyr with them to the towne.
Whiche were vnworthy to haue possession
Of suche a treasure tyll god lyst shape a tyme
Of gracious chaunge to sende a newe pryme.
Agayne theyr promyse god made an obstacle:
Whan they of newe began the martyr to manace,
The body was besyled by myracle
And eke buryed in a secrete place,
There to abyde tyll god lyst of his grace,
83

As I sayde erste, this treasure of renowne
May be founde, to glad with all thé towne.
Thus wha the paynims had shewed theyr vttrāce,
Of the martyr the doctrine hole forsake,
God vpon them dyd openly vengance:
All theyr lymmes and membres gan to shake,
With a palsey theyr tonges were eke take—
With whiche membre afforne in many wyse
The fayth of Christ they lyst falsely to dispise:
The handes touched of these homicydes,
Impotent of power and of myght,
Theyr bodyes vnweldy, backe eke and sydes,
Their legges faltred for to stande vpryght,
Theyr mouthes stode wronge, / a gogle stode theyr syght,—
Eche membre and ioynt out of order stode;
And theyr iuge also sodenly waxe wode.
Hondes, to godwarde whan they be vengable,
Feete that ranne of custome for damage,
Cruell eien / whiche be not merciable,
Mortall tonges that dampne men in theyr rage,
By detraction / mouthes for false langage:
Lyke theyr desertes of olde, who lyst remembre,
God of his ryght gan punysshe euery membre;
The eighe for lokyng receyue his guerdon,
The tonge for speakyng taketh his salarie;
Bloud wrongefully shede requireth of reason
Hastly vengance, though it a whyle tary,
Murder, homycyde, / whiche be to god contrary,
Deth of martyrs, / slaughter of innocentes
Cryeth vengeance to god in their tourmentes.
Specially all the turmentours
That were assented for to slee Albon,
Faded away as dewe on sommer floures,
And come to nought almost euerychone.
The mynde of the martyr abode alway in one,
And day by day the great laude and glorie
Gan more and more encrease of victorie.
The sade vengeance no whyle was conseled,
Nor the great noyse of theyr aduersite
Take vpon paynems, wolde not be healed,
Theyr trouble and rumour was not kepte secrete.
For drede of whiche the chiefe of theyr citie,
Medled with grace, as the story sayth,
Were all at ones turned to Christis fayth;
With ryght hole herte and full deuout humblenesse
From theyr olde secte they gan away declyne,
Gan prayse the lorde for his ryghtwys-nesse,—
And some by grace heuenly and deuine,
By influence that dyd vpon hym shyne,
Lefte all the worlde, treasure and substance,
And to Rome went for to do penance—
84

And by grace of our lorde Christ Jesu
They renounced all theyr olde errour
And sawe in theyr goddes there was no vertue,
Helpe at nede, conforte nor socour:
But all at ones with diligent labour
Of false ydols forsoke the sacryfyce,
Become christen in most humble wyse.
Myracles shewed and vertous doctrine
Of Amphibalus with vertous diligence,
Grace annexed whiche dyd on them shyne,
Caused the citie of all theyr olde offence
To axe mercy, and with hole diligence
Theyr false goddes of new they haue dispysed,
And moste mekely by grace were baptised.—
And so longe continued, / tyll at the last
By a rurall person, / disciple of pelagiane,
His hereticall doctrine—/ longe tyme begon & past—
85

Newly renewed and fast toke rote agayne,
Peruerted the people of this Brutis Britayne;
And specially in this citie of olde, Verolamy,
Moche increased this doctrine of infamy.
Wherwith sore troubled was all the hole clergy,
Not stronge inough / by lernyng and prudence
These olde errours to refourme & rectify,
But glad to sende for helpe and defence
To the clergy of Fraunce, / to be theyr assistence.
Where assembled a counsell of clergy in generall,
To prouide remedy for this myschefe in speciall.
Lastely concluded by the hole counsell:
Sent vnto Verolamy two auncient clerkes,
In lernyng and vertue / ryght famous and excell:
The one called Germayne, a myrrour in good warkes,
Confoūdet of heretykes / & all fyry sparkes
Of scismaticall doctrine / by gostly influence—
He was consecrate bysshop of Antisiodorence;
And Lupus, the bysshop of Trecassinensis,
In this holy iournay / with hym was associate.
And came to this citie of Verolaminensis
Where the people peruerted were greuously insensate
And from the trewe fayth / crokedly abrogate
By thereticall doctrine of the erroneous person,
Declared to the people with deuylysshe illusion.
Good people afore this tyme, / of feruent deuocion,
For recours of pylgryms / had builded an oratory
Ouer the tombe and corps / of holy saynt Albon;
Wheder these bysshops of blessed memory
Came and made prayer to the martyr instantly
That he for them in theyr batayle and conflycte
Wolde be meane to god / the heretyke to conuicte.
Theyr prayer to god / by the martyr preferred,
As proueth the sequele, / was ryght acceptable:
For than the heretikes, / day ne tyme deferred,
Was clerely conuicte of theyr errours detestable
And reduced to grace / by treuthe infallable
By Lupe and Germane in playne disputation,
Renounsyng theyr errours / made abiuration.
Than for that grace / gyuen them in especiall
Of god by meane of the martyrs intercessyon,
86

To his tōbe they returned, / with hert & mynd effectual,
Redoublyng theyr prayer / with humble deuocion,
For the great tryumphe / and vtter subiection
That thenmyes of god / had susteyned that day,
Exhortyng the people / to laude god and praye.
And mekely on theyr knees / with all dew reuerence
Vncouered the tombe, / where the corps lay:
There founde the reliques, in state and essence
All though he had layne ther many a longe day.
And of the same reliques they toke no parte away;
But of therth all blody saint Germane toke a porcion,
To bere aboute with hym, of feruent deuotion.
And for the same in full recompence,
A cophyn enclosed with relyques many one
Of all thapostels / and martyrs with reuerence
Whiche he gathered in places where he had gone,
There he them offered to blessed saynt Albon,
For a perpetuall memory of that his acte and dede
And to all pylgryms to haue rewarde and mede.
Than departed Germayne and his felowe Lupus
In to theyr owne countres, there to remayne.
Within foure yeres after / agayne it happened thus:
Newly to sprynge / theresyes of pelagyane.
Than the clergy sent of newe for saynt Germayne;
Who hastely graunted to come and discusse
All doutes, associate / with holy Seuerus.
Who breuely confounded and brought to vtterance
All theretykes to theyr shame and confusyon.
That done, they retourned agayne into Fraunce,
The people delyuered from deuyllysshe illusion;—
Albeit shortely after / theyr former abusyon
Returned theyr myndes and brought in appostacy,
Theyr god forgettyng to laude and magnifie.
And all that was done by the greuous occasyon
Of the furyous saxons / and theyr pagan ryte;
For after that they had in (t)his lāde made inuasion,
Chur(c)hes and clergy they distroyed quite,
To adnull Christis lawe was all theyr delyte
And compell the christen to theyr false ydolatry—
In suche miserable lyfe was all theyr felicite.
Thus by them all this region in maner peruerted
From Christis fayth, / and holy saynt Albon,
The chapell and tombe decayed and subuerted—
Token or knowlege there was lefte none—
Deuotion and prayer forgotten and gone:
Tyll god of his goodnes and mercyfull pitie
Wold reuele his sayntes / to the laude of his deite.
Thus duryng this tyme, thre hundred yere & mo,
The hertes of the people, / all derke & obumbrate,
From the fayth of Christ was clerely lost and go,
Worshyppyng ydols of power adnychilate—
87

Reason of knowlege by wyll was obnubilate—
By longe continuance accustomed and vsed
That good and trew doctrine / they vtterly refused.
Thylke holy saynt Albon / to the godhed directed
His deuoute prayer / his countrey to reconcile
To Christis owne fayth, / all heresyes reiected
With errours and scismes / from them put in exile,
The disceytes of the deuyll, / hath thē longe begyle,
To abate and suppresse, / to the christen releue
And to all heretikes shame and repreue.
His prayer well herde, / god hath prouyde
A captayne, / a ruler, / a prince of great pleasance,
Ouer this contre / to reigne, rule and gye,
Discended of blode from royall aliance:
That by goddes helpe shortly made purueyance
These fautes to redresse, / by grace as he may,—
This noble deuoute prince called kynge Offa.
It happed that this kyng, thā beinge at Bygging
Besydes wynslowe, his owne maner-place,
Callyng to memory all his former lyuyng,
How by the blody swerd his peace he had purchace:
Cōpuncte by contrition, callyng for grace,
Besought god on his knees / with feruēt deuocion
Some knowlege to haue of his synnes remyssyon.
Than sodēly in the chapel came a maruelous light,
Inflamed the king, with a swete fraragraūt (!) odour.
The kynge fyrst astonyed / to se it so bryght,
Than after coforted, gaue laude, prayse & honour
To that only god, / grounde of all socour,
And set fast in hym / his trust and confidence,
Dayly to serue hym / with all dewe reuerence.
This kynge then lyinge in the citie of Bath
Halfe-slepyng in a slombre, appered an angell,
Shewyng that of god suche fauour he hath,
And also commaundement, as he dyd than tell:
All scismes and heresyes / from the contre texpell,
He shulde perceyue with all diligence anone
To translate the reliques of holy saynt albon.
The kyng or this tyme of the pope had purchased
That Lychefelde shulde be / tharche bysshops see—
Wherby Canterbury was greatly defased—
But for that tyme there was no remedy.
All whiche I omyt and returne to our story,
Howe and by whom was done this translation
Of archebysshop and bysshops with feruent deuocion.
After that the angell at Bathe had thus appered,
Of this prothomartyr Albō / made the kyng relacion,
He called Humbertus, whome he had than arered
Archebysshop of Lychefeld, / and made declaration
Of thangelles cōmandement / for the translation
88

Of this holy martyr. / than the bysshop anon ryght
Obeyed and prepared therto with all his myght.
Accompanyed with suffraganes—two he had than—
Theyr names to recount / I let ouerpasse—
The kyng & they to Verolamy, / with many noble men
Accompaned, / came reuerently to the same place:
Where as a fyrye pyllour bryghtly shynynge was
Ouer the tombe & place / where as lay saynt Albon—
By whiche token / they founde the cophyn anone.
They toke vp the bones with all humble deuotion
And bare them to the church with ympnes and songe—
The kynge and his nobles folowed the processyon—
Where many fayre myracle was done than amonge—
The relyques enclosed in a shryne great and longe
Of syluer and golde set with great ryches.
Thus with all solempnite / endeth this busynes,—
Not without myracles as the story doth vs teache:
They that were blynde / recured haue theyr syghte,
The domme also was restored to theyr speche,
Folkes lame and podagryd / went than vpryght,
Lepres made clene, / by prayer of this knyght,
And palatyke folke, / as the story doth remembre,
And all other diseased / were hole in euery membre.—
Be glad and mery, / thy title riche and goode,
Londe of brytane, called brutes Albion,
Whiche art inbaumed / with the purple bloode
Of blessed saint Albon, / prince of that region!
And specyally, O noble and ryall towne
Of verelamy, / reioyce and be iocounde:
So riche a treasure / is in thy boundes founde!
Richer treasure, / more worthy to be commended,
Moche better then in Troy / was euer Palladion;
For on thy soyle / of newe is discendyd
A celestiall dew, / of grace and all fosion,
And specially by / angelicall reuelation,
Whiche on thy londe / of newe dothe rebounde:
That blessed Albon / is in thy boundes founde.
Hector whylom / was Troyans Champion,
And Haniball protector of Cartago,
Marchus Maluius / saued Rome towne:
The capitolie / conserued frome dammage;
And in britayne nowe in more lattre age,
Of holy Albon when the corps was founde,
Made in that region all thinges to habounde.—
Kynge Offa, as I sayd, / hauynge this vision,
Whiche of saynt Albon / was patron and founder,
By myracles shewed / for his good deuocion
89

The place where was hyd / this ryche treasure:
He with cost and diligent laboure
Lett call to-gedre / of diuers regions
Most cunninge maysters of wryghtes & masons,
To buylde the churche / of blessed saint Albon;
Indowed the same / with londes and possession—
So that in all Britayne / lyke to that is none—
Replenished with people / of saynt benettes profession—
Almost VIII. C. yere continued in succession;
Takynge fyrst auctorite, / as the hystorie telle can,
Graunted by bulles, of pope Adrian.
After went hym selfe, / this noble worthy kynge,
Of great deuotion to Rome the ryall citie,
Spared no cost / tyll he in euery thynge
Had of his purpose graunt and auctoritie:
Priuileges, / fredomes / and liberties
By the pope then / confirmed to that place,
For loue of saint Albon, with many especial grace.
By auctoritie, / as ye haue hard deuysed,
He had his askynge / by power spirituall;
And for his part, / to be more auctorised,
He hath annexed his power in especyall:
With all liberties and fraunchies full ryall
Perpetually bound yt in brede and in lenght,
In honour of saint Albō, / to stonde in his strenght.—
O Verolamy, as I haue tolde beforne,
O Famous olde citie / amonge all nations,
Whiche in thy boundes / hadst suche a prince borne,
Notable in knyghthode, / with all conditions
Of hygh prowes, / by manyfold reasons
Wordy by vertu and by ryall lyen
To be in degre / aboue all the worthies nyen!—
He that whylom was busy to compyle
This noble historie, / trewly, of entent,
In latyn tonge to directe his style,
Ryght as he sawe / so was he diligent
It to conuey, / bicause he was present;—
Yet lyst he not—I suppose, of mekenes—
Tell what he was nor his name expresse;
To hym selfe he gaue none other name,
After the story, / as I reherse can.
Excepte he wrote, of drede / and of honest shame,
He wolde be called—as he wrote than—
Of all wretches the symplest man—
Of other name, as by his wrytyng,
To vs he lefte no maner knowlegyng.
90

Saue he of trust and good confydence,
Whiche that abode in his opinion,
There shulde come in great reuerence
Tyme commyng folke of religion
Specially to Verolamy towne
Whiche that shulde do theyr busy payne
The fayth of Christe / for to preache in Britayne;
Than shall the trouthe be openly knawe
Whan the errour is loused and vnbounde
Of paynyms, and Christis worde be sawe
Thorowe all the londe, / false ydols to confounde;
Than to theyr hartes / gladnes shall rebounde
That vseth our fayth, / whan Jesu lyst by grace
Of his infinite mercy / a tyme to purchase.
This same man of full trewe entent
Whiche busy was / this story to endite,
Vnto the see of Rome / with the boke he went,
By great aduise, his purpose to acquite
And fynally, lyke as he doth playnly wryte,
All false goddes and ydols to forsake,
Baptisme to receyue and Christis fayth to take.
And as I haue tolde, this boke with hym he brought,
To be sene ouer, with meke and lowe subiection,
To all that courte, / and humbly he besought
Our lorde Christe Jesu with deuoute intention,
After theyr dewe and full examynation
Called to recorde, this story made of newe,
Lyke as he wrote, that euery worde was trewe.
This boke accomplysshed / notable and famous
Of hym that was in Brutis Albion
Called prothomartyr most vertuous,
That for Christ suffered passion,
That yere accompted of his translation
Fro Christis byrthe and his natiuite
Fully seuen hundreth nynty yere and thre.—
Nowe, perfyte reders, / that dyuers stories hath sene,
Marke well the tymes / of this here expressed:
Whan that saynt Albon by the paynyms kene
For Christis fayth / from this lyfe was suppressed,
The comyng of saynt Germayn for errours to be,
After all these / the tyme of his inuention
Done by kynge Offa / with his holy translation!
CC.LXXXX.III. yeres of our lorde Christ Jesu,
The reigne of Dioclesyon the XIX. yere,
Christis holy fayth to reuyue and renewe
Suffred saynt Albon, / the story doth appere;
Maximiane & Asclipiodot both his iuges were;
It was in the seconde yere / of the pope Gaius
That holy saynt Albon was martyred thus.
Than one hundreth & one yere after his passion
Began fyrst theresies of false pelagyane,
Which was CCCCIIII. yeres / by iust computation
91

After that Christ / had take our nature humayne,
The .XIIII. yere of the Brittisshe kynge Graciane,
In the III. yere of the fyrst Anastacious,
And the XVI. yere of themperour Theodosius.
Foure hundred and forty / of our lorde .IX. yeres mo,
And in the fyrst yere of Vortigern the kynge,
And the fyfte yere of the fyrst pope Leo,
Theodose the seconde emperour than beinge
In his. XXI. yere after iust rekenynge,
Saynt Germayn come fyrst, / and lupus also,
To distroye theresies / that were begon tho;
C.XLIII. yeres by iuste computation
After his passion / thus come saynt Germayn,
And forty and two yere without variation
After the fyrst tyme of the falce pelagian.
Yet within fyue yeres saynt Germayn come agayn,
As is shewed before, / with holy Seuerus,
All former heresies by grace to discus.
CCC.XLIII. yeres after saynt Germayne,
Whiche was seuen hundreth / LXXX. & XIII. yere
Of our lorde Jesu, / as stories doth determyne,
That thangell at Bath / to kyng Offa dyd appere
To translate saynt Albon / with all heuenly chere;
The fyrst Adrian pope, / the VI. Constantine thēperour,
Whā this translation was done with all honour.—
Perceyue nowe, good reders, / & gyue true iugemēt
Betwene the monkes of Colen / & of blessed Albon!
The Coloners wryteth after theyr entent,
To cause the pylgryms to withdrawe theyr deuotion
From Verolamy / & to folowe theyr affection,
Sayinge that they haue the very body,
To theyr shame and rebuke / defendyng suche foly.
And to proue theyr intent, / playnely they say
That these heresyes of false pelagiane
Began in the reigne of noble kynke Offa
And also in the tyme of pope Adrian;
Affyrmyng that than shuld come-in Germayne
And with hym Lupus, / a clerke of great substance,
And all theresyes were brought than to vttrance;
And so by Germayn / were brought vnto Rauenus(!)
The body of saynt Albon, / and there (by) themperour
Valentiniane / he was nobly receyued than,
And also the body, / with all godly honour;
Where Germayn sore vexed with a mortall dolour
Departed (from) this lyfe and vale of all misery
To theternall lyfe / in the celestiall glory;
After whose deth themperours mother,
Placida by name, / as Coloners doth say,
To Rome brought this body, / she with many other;
With all dewe reuerence, / there abode many a day;
Tyll Otto themperour / with his mother Theophana
Brought it to Colen / to tharchebysshop Brunon
In to the monastery of holy Panthaleon.
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Also at the tyme of this translation in dede
Adrian was pope, / and that they confesse.
And whan Valentiniane / to thempyre dyd procede,
Liberious was pope / in his .XII. yere, doutlesse,
As diuerse Historiographers / playnly do expresse;
So that of the sees spirituall nor temporall
Agreeth with theyr accomptes / after theyr memoriall.
They say also the body is yet incorrupt
From the thyes vpwarde, / they haue in possession.
Whiche saiynge me semeth of trouthe be interrupte,
Onles they wyll graunt any vnsemyng diuision
Of a corporall body to be cut in perticion.
Yet I can not knowe what parte they shulde haue:
Forkynge Offa founde nothyng but the bones in his graue.
They say also that kyng Offa & saynt Germayne
Was bothe at one tyme / at this translation,
Whan therisies was destroyde of false pelagian.
In whose tymes is a great altercation;
Who lust accompt by iust compotation,
Shall fynde .CCC. yeres .XLIIII. also
That kynge Offa came after saynt Germayn was go.
They say also that themperour Valentiniane
Shulde mete S. Germain, / whā he came to Rauēne.
Whiche can not be trewe, / but all spoken in vayne:
For CCC. XLVI. was the yeres of our lorde than
Whan Valentiniane fyrste began to reigne—
That was .LXXX.III. yeres before that Germayne
Came to distroye theresies of pelagiane.
Therfore, good bretherne of holy saynt Benet,
Monkes of Colen, leue this your bablyng!
Ye be so ferre hense, / in dede ye can not let
Ony deuoute persons / for to do theyr offryng.
I wyll not denie / but your vntrewe surmysyng
May brynge some people, / pucyll and innocent,
For lacke of trewe knowlege / in a wrong iugemēt;
But they that be lerned, can rede as well as ye,
Conferre histories / and also accompte the yeres,
Can well perceyue howe craftely ye do flye
From trouthe—/ thistories so playnly apperes.
And are not they accursed þt false wytnesse beares,
And specyally in writing / to the derogation
Of theyr bretherne in god of a nother nation?
Remembre ye ware in Englande but late
With the VII. Henry, that myghty ryall kynge,
Where couertly ye sought meanes with many a noble estate
To staye & aide you in this vntrewe lesing;
But ye durst not abyde thende of the rekenyng,
For feare of afterclappes that myght haue ensued,
Ye where afrayde to drynke of suche as ye brewed!
Wherfore reduce your selfe, / false wrytynge reuoke,
Knowlege your offence—/ of wyll more than dede,
For, if ye continue, / ye shall haue but a mocke—
Men knoweth howe ye can in ony wyse procede.
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But if that other ye loue god or drede,
Folowe the trouthe, / so shall ye do best
And in lytle medlynge / ye shall fynde moche rest.—
O blessed Albon, / o martyr most beningne,
Called of Brytons stewarde most notable,
Prince of knyghtholde (!), preued by many a signe
In all thy workes iust, prudent and treatable
And in thy domes ryghtfull and mercyable,
Be in oure paueye / shelde of protection,
O prothomartyr of Brutes Albion!
Let all thy seruauntes grace and mercy fynde
Whiche that call to the in myschefe and distresse
And haue thy passion and martyrdome in mynde,
Agayn frowarde ennemyes & all frowarde duresse
Of thy benigne mercyfull goodnes
Them to defende; be thou theyr champion,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Syth thou arte named gracious, benigne & good,
The fyrste also / whiche that in Britayne
Suffred paynems to shede thy gentyll blode,
For Christes faith to die and suffre peyne:
O glorious prince, of mercy not disdeyne
To here the prayers and deuoute orison
Of all thy seruauntes in Brutis Albion!
Thou were a myrrour and of mercy and pitie,
Haddest a custome here in this worlde lyuyng
To cherysshe pylgrymes, and heldest hospitalite,
All poure folke and strangers refresshyng.
Graunt our requestes, for loue of thylke kynge
Called kynge Offa, whiche had a vision,
Where thou were buryed, in Brutis Albion!
Lyke a prince of ryght thou muste entende
To forther all them that lyue in thy seruyce,
All theyr greuous (!) and mischefes to amende,
And by thy prayer a pathe for hym, deuyse
To lyue in vertue and vices to despise,
By thy most knyghtly mediacion,
O prothomartyr of Brutes Albion.
For his sake haue in remembraunce
To all thy seruauntes to do succoure,
Whiche of deuocion, to do the pleasaunce,
Was in thy chyrche chef bylder and foundour,
Of thy liberties royall protector,
There brought in fyrst men of religion,
One theldest Abbeys in Brutes Albion!
Amonge all other remembre that place,
It to preserue in longe prosperite,
Where thou arte shryned to grete encrece of grace,
As there protectour ageyne all aduersitie,
And doer(!) haue mynde vpon ther citie
Whiche is made famous by thy passion,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
To the cite be patron, prince and guyde,
In thy seruice make them diligent;
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With longe felicite on the other syde
Conserue thyn Abbot and thy deuout couent,
Syth they are bounde of herte and hole entent
Euer the to serue by theyr profession,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
And specially pray / for our most riall prince,
Our redouted lord / and most gracious souerayne,
Most victorious kinge, / our sheld and our defence,
Both kinge & Emperour / within all this Britaine,
Defender of the faith, / of Irlonde lorde & captaine:
Henry the VIII., surmountyng in renowne,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Pray for his spouse, / his louynge lady dere,
His riall quene Anna, / notable and famous,
Indowed with grace / and vertu without pere;
Pray for oure princes, / that she may be prosperous,
Elizabeth by name, / both beautifull and gracious;
Pray that theyr issue / haue fortunate succession,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Pray for princes that this londe gouerne,
To rule the people by prudent policie;
Pray for the chyrche, that lyke a clere lanterne
By good ensample ther subiectes for to gye;
And pray also that the chiualrie
May holde vp ryght agaynste falce extorcion,
O porthomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Pray for marchantes / and artificers,
To encrease by vertue in theyr busynesse,
That there be founde no fraude in theyr desyres,
So that false lucre haue none encreasse;
By thy prayer do also represse
All tyranny and all false extorcion,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
And with these, o martyr glorious,
Syth thy prayer may so moche auayle,
Pray to the lorde aboue, most gracious,
Agayne indigence to sende inough of vitayle;
And specially pray for the porayl,
Them to releue with plenty and foyson—
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Noble prince, most soueraigne and entier,
Corne, frute and grayne to encrease and multiplie,
Blessed Albon, praye for the labourer
To plough and carte theyr handes so to applie
That grace may so gouerne them and gye,
To great increase gyue all this region,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
All these estates, remembred in substance,
Joyne them in vertue by perfyte charyte;
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Lyke a prince take them in gouernance,
And them preserue from all aduersyte,
Set peace amonge them and vertuous vnite,
All where nowe reigneth pride and deuision,
O prothomartyr of Brutis Albion!
Finis.
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