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

In Walys fforteger þey sought.
Þey byseced straite his castel;
ffele arewes þey schotten, & quarel
Þey caste þer-to, on manie a gate,
ffor þey had þer-to ful gret hate.
I þe ost was þe erl of Gloucestre,—
In Walys he knew al þe estre,—
Eldok he highte, man of honur,
And hardy knyght & god werrour.
Þe kyng Aurelius asked hym red
ffor to venge his fader ded,
& seyde, “Sire Erl, þou furgetest ylk del
“Þat my fader feffed þe wel,
“& gaf þe armes, & made þe knyght;
“Syþen my broþer, in al his myght;
“& ȝif þou louedest hym feyþfuly,
“Help me to venge his enemy!
“Let now no god wille be wane,
“Bot help to venge my fader bane!
“Þenk o þe Payens þat sexes drow,
“& at þe Parlement þe lordes slow!”
When Eldok herde, he made swilk mone,
Þey cried “as armes” euerylkone,
To gyue assaut to þem wyþynne;
Bot þe castel was yuel to wynne.
Þey comaunded to al men lyk,
Wiþ brusch to come, & fylle þe dyk.
When hit was ful, fir þey set,

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& on a lowe at ones hit set;
Þe lowe was mikel, & vp-ward stey,
So þat hit in to þe castel fley,
& vp in to þe tour hit went,
Þat alle þe houses aboute brent;
Castel, houses, wyþ al þer atyr,
Man & best, al was on fyr;
Til al was brent, woldit nought lynne.
Þe kyng hym self was brent þer-ynne,
& alle his folk euerylkone,
Brente to deþe, body & bone.
Of ilka traytour swilk ys þe ende!
Last of his lyue wyþ wo schal wende!
Of a traitour ys al of spoken;
Of Hengist wolde þe kyng be wroken.

When Aurelius & sire Vter
Were venged on sire ffortyger,
Al þe land, ouer al aboute,
Wyþ loue he did hit til hym loute.
Whan he wyste þat al þe land
Was til his wille bowand,
He seide, ‘he wolde no lenger abide;
‘Agayn þe Saxons wold he ryde,
‘Deliuere þe land of þem al klene;
‘Þey han vs do ful mykel tene.’
Hengist herde þo tydynges seye,
Toward Scotland he nam his weye;
Þe souþ contre al he fursok,
& ouer Humber þe way he tok;
Of Scottes & of Peytes þere
He hoped of help, ȝyf nede we[re].
Þe kyng hym spedde, when he hit wiste,

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Toward þe northe after Hengyste.
When Bretons herde þe kyng passed Humbre,
So fele to hym come, men myghtem nowt noumbre.
Towards þe northe al ways[te] þey fonde,
Were þere non left myght tyle þe londe,
Casteles broken, tounes brent,
Holy kirke was broke & schent;
Þyse Payens Saxoyns al had reft.
Þen sey þe kyng nought waster left:
Al he highte to restore,
ȝyf he myght lyue, & eft come þore,

Whan Hengist wyste þat þe kyng cam,
ffor drede he ne wyste what wey he nam;
ffor to fle myght hit nought vaille,
Bot ned he mest byde bataille.
He calde his felawes, & bad þem rest,
& seide, “felawes, what ys þe best?
“Þis Bretons folewe vs faste & ney;
“Vs by-houes be queynte & sley.
“In bataille now þey wil vs frayst,
“Lok þat ȝe be trewe & traist;
“Dredeþ nought þer gret compaignye;
“ȝyf we wel stande, sone schul þey flye.
“Wel wot ȝe what Bretons are;
“Þey feynte ful sone ȝyf non þem spare.
“Standeþ styf & truely ageyn,
“We schul þen of hem make feldes pleyn.
“Wyþ fewe, we han seyn many tyme,

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“We haue þeym sondred & smyten in swyme.
“Tak ȝe non hede of þeyr grete host,
“ffor wel ȝe wot þei ar bot bost,
“& fals folk, wyþ feble heuede;
“ffor þem our wed schal nought be leued.
“He ys a child þat hem ledes!
“He can nought ȝit on swylk[e] dedes!
“& we ar noble werreours
“Þat han be proued in many stours!
“Standes now wel ageyn ȝour fo!
“Raunsom for vs non may go.
“Defende oure lyues, best is to chese,
“Now al to wynne or al to lese!”
When Hengist had conforted hem þus,
Þey armed þeym alle att o frusch,
& riden fol softe & semly
Ageyn þe Bretons wyþouten cri.
Þey hoped vnarmed þe Bretons mete,
& al vnwarned on þem schete;
Bot þe Bretons, ilka conrey,
Were as wel armed as þey;
Þey hadden of þe Payens drede,
Night & day armed þey ȝede.
Þe kyng herde seye þey come þat syde,
And to bataille þey wolde abide;
A feld he ches, fair & brod,
He wente þyder, & þere abod.