University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
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

collapse section
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
De aduentu Sancti Petry Apostoly.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

De aduentu Sancti Petry Apostoly.

I fynde writen, ȝow to teche,
Þat in Nero tyme seint Peter gan preche.
ffro Antyoche þat tyme he cam,
Þorow prechyng brought hit to Cristendam,
And was comen right in to Rome,
And preched þere of Cristes dome.
Whan gon was sire Claudyus,
In Bretayne regned Arwygarus;
Of hym self he let right mykel,
Bot proud he was, & a party fykel;
Þe true to Rome gyue he nolde,
ffor he dedeyned of hem to holde;
Þe Romayns þoughte an outrage
So for to lese þer truage;
Þey senten hyder Vaspasyan,
Maister of Rome was he þan.
At Douere wolde he vp a-ryue;
Þe kyng hit herde, & þyder gan dryue,—
As hit ys founden in Ebru,
Douere þen highte Reptupu,—
Þer fended he Vaspasian þe lond.
Þer sailles ageyn on mast þey wond,
& seyled by þe landes syde
Tyl Toteneys, þer gon þey ride.

198

ffor þy now hit dide hem qued
Þat þey hem so þat lond furbed.
Til Oxenford þey gon alle ride,
To take þe toun y þe euentyde:
‘Karphuelgoit’ vpon Bretoun,
On Englische, ‘Oxenford’ þe toun.
Þe toun of þeym hadde no doute,
Seuenyght þe seged hit wyþoute.
Þe kyng, als sone as he myght,
Oste gadred, & þider hym dight;
Raþer ne myghte þider wende;
Bote atte seue nyghtes ende,
He com in a morwe tyde.
Sone þey assembled on boþe syde,
ffro morn til euen bataille þey nomen,
Þat neyþer side was ouercomen;
At euen þey ȝeden alle asonder;
Al were þey wery, hit was no wonder.
On þe morn, þo þat were lefte,
Þey armed hem to bataille efte.