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The Story of England

by Robert Manning of Brunne, A.D. 1338. Edited from mss. at Lambeth Palace and the Inner Temple, by Frederick J. Furnivall

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Hic Cassibolanus se retraxit.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Hic Cassibolanus se retraxit.

Ilk þat þer myght fle, þey fledde;
Þat best myght renne, best he spedde;
Bettere was fle, þan worse abide,
ffor socour þer cam on none syde.
Vntil a hey hil þey drowe hem to,
Bettere wistey nought what for to do;
& er þey myghte þat heye hil take,
Many a croune men myght se crake.
Whan þey hadde þe hil al nomen,
Þeym þoughte þey were til castel comen;
Non of þe Romayns durst com hem ney,
Bot held þem fro þe hil a drey.
Þe hil was strong busked aboute,
Þat þe Bretons of Cesar hadde no doute;
ffor eche man tok a tre to stal,
As tristi as a castel wal.
Cesa[r] byheld to þe hilles heyght,
Þat wyþ non assaut ne wyþ no sleight
Mighte he wynne þat forcelet;
Þerfore a sege abute hit set,

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Þat þey ne myghte no-wer aboute,
Bot þorow hym, haue issue oute.
He dide sette in wardes seers,
Knyghte to wachem, & squiers;
& also he dide hewe trees,
Þe styes to stoppe, & þe entres,
& furgat nought ful lyghtly
How þey had chased hym wyþ maistri;
& ofte þey telde in þer auys
How þey bifore had chased hem twys:
“Now schal y ȝelde hit, ȝif þat y may,
“Er ȝe departe fro me away!”
Alas, hit schold euer so bytyde,
So bolde Bretons myght non abide!
ffor þey had chased twyes þat man
Þat al þe werld þorow bataille wan;
& ȝit þey stode stifly, ilkon,
Whan þey wiste socur of non,
ȝit suffrede þei nought for to be nome
Of hym þat þey had er ouercome;
But Dame ffortune had turned her whel
Donward til wo, þat er was wel;
ffor þo þat abouen were wond to be,
Donward þeym now turneþ sche.