The Story of England :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Irelgas was þe kynges cosyn;
“Huwelyn, he was neuew myn:
“Þyse to-gydere wolde skirme algate;
“Þorow proude hertes þer wax hate;
“Þorow hate þer gon wordes ryse
“On boþe partys, on yuel assise.
“Whan ilk had seid oþer wow,
“Wiþ wraþe to smyte, þe egge drow;
“Þorow a meschaunce, y wot hit was,
“Huwelyn slow þer Irelgas.
“When þe kyng herde þys seye,
“Þe feste was trobled, & myrþe a-weye.
“ffor þe kyng was ful felon,
“& hastif, vntil vengaunce boun,
“Þen seid þe kyng vntil me,
“Comaundynge, vp peyne of al my fe,
“Huwelyn hym for to sende,
“Þat ffelonye for to amende,

174

“And in his court have iugement
“Þorow þe comunes, ar þat þey went.
“Þan þought y wyþ herte ful wo,
“ȝif y hym sende, he scholde hym slo.
“y sende hym ageyn ful tyt,
“& of his court asked respit:
“‘A lord y am, a court y haue,
“‘Þorow þat wold y hym dampne or saue;
“‘ȝif hit be eyþer baron or knyght
“‘Þat pleyneþ hym þere, he shal haue right.
“‘Þe court þat þou bedes me to,
“‘Hit schold be myn, & schal be so;
“‘Þou wost hit is myn heritage;
“‘Þou beodes me mys & outrage.’
“& for y þus agayn-seide hym,
“He ys to me þus wroþ & brym,
“& me manaceþ day by day
“To brenne & slo, ȝyf þat he may.
“Wher-fore, Cesar, y schewe hit þe,
“Þat þou my socour ageyn hym be,
“& help me in my wo so harde,
“And com hyder in god forewarde,
“And þorow me schaltow haue Brutayne,
“& y þorow þe brought out of payne.
“Ne haue þou non suspecioun
“Þat y hit seye for any tresoun:
“Y wolde nought swylk a þyng bygynne,
“Al þys reame for to wynne;
“Bot com, & make no dwellynge,
“& rescowe me a-geyn þe kynge.
“ffor þou myshappedest y þe first ende,
“Now schaltow spede er þat þou wende.”

175

Cesar herde what he bysought,
& streitly turnde hit in his þought,
& schewed hit his barons aboute,
Wheþer þey heldit certeyn or doute.
Þer-on þey conseild, þat þer war,
Þat atte laste seyde Cesar,
“Þat he ne wolde, for sonde ne sawe,
“Put hym in peril ne in awe;
“Ne for no byheste of bost
“Wold he so sone sampne his host;
“ffor y haue herd seye fele syþe,
“Þat faire byhestes makeþ foles blithe.”
Cesar sent hym bode ageyn,
ȝyf he wold hald his word certayn,
Sende he scholde hym hostagers,
Men of gode, barons, pers,
Oþer elles wolde he nought com þere
Vntil his tyme bettere were.

Androcheus dred hym of treson,
Þat þe kyng wolde bysege þe toun.
His sone Senna til Cesar sent,
& þritty oþer wyþ hym þey went,
Of þe beste þat he might fynde,
Next born of his owen kynde.
Cesar receiued þem wyþ honur,
& dide þem alle in Ordre, his tour.
Syn, als sone as he myghte hye,
He dighte his host, & god nauye,
& priuely aryued vp at Douer,
& logged hem by þe cost al ouer.
Androcheus com til Cesar þyder,
& conseiled þem boþe to-gyder,

176

How þey schuld wyrke, & on what wyse,
Ageyn þe kyng in bataille to rise.
Tydynges ronne, þat ouer al reches;
Ilk man til oþer made þer speches,
Til men tolde þe kyng tydant,
Þat Romayns were aryue on land.
Þe kyng þeron conseilled sone;
On hem to renne, mad hym bone;
& in herte had gret meruaille
Þat þey so so sone broughte hym bataille.—
He wende of þeym haue hed no warde,
Bot hym fel þer a chek ful harde;—
& al so sone as he myght,
Toward Douere his host he dight.
To Cesar was hit told in hast
Þat þe kyng was comande fast:
Cesar conseilled wiþ Androche,
Þat he wolde come out of þe cite,
And turne a sidenhand o valeye,
&, armed, biden hem in þe weye;
& arraied þem in renges ryght,
& assigned whiche bataille first schold fight.
Whan Cesar had arrayed al his host,
O þyng he comaunded most:
“Þat non scholde, for wele ne wo,
“On fro oþer, of renge go;
“Ne non prese to styrte byfore,
“Ne holde byhynde in coward score;
“Bot passe forþ sadlyk, syde by syde,

177

‘Til þey com þer þey schold abide,
‘& stoutly hem þanne o þe bretons auaunce,
‘& felle þem doun wiþ swerd & launce.’
Androcheus enbusched hym pryuely
Wyþ fif hundred men armed, redy
On þe kyng assaut to make,
By-twyxt hem ȝyf he myghte hym take.
Cassibolan on his wey gan spede;
Of non enbuschement tok he hede;
Þeyr hostes boþe neighed ȝerne;
& whan þey were nought fro þem ferne,
Ouer an hil þen lay his weye;
& als he com in to þe valeye,
He saw þe Romayns fresche y þe feld,
Redy enbatailled wiþ spere & scheld.
Als sone mad he hym redy,
& loude ascried þem on har cry,
& sone þey schoten arewes & dartz
fful felonlyk on boþe partz.
Androcheus, atte firste comynge,
Of his enbuschement gan he springe;
Al freschely he com on hem ful hot,
& bacward vpon þe Bretons smot:
“Ey!” seid þe kyng, “here ys deseit!
“Bytwixt þem to þey holde vs streit!”
He ne myghte nought perce þe host Romeyn,
Ne he ne myghte turne ageyn;
Byhynde, biforn, he saw peryl.

178

O side he trauersed vnto a hil,
So nede hym byhoued, or be in clos.
On boþe sides he saw his foos,
He seide hym self þo, he was bitraischt;
Þen were þe Bretons alle abaischt.