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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Exe virtus de Stonhenges. |
 | The Story of England |  |
Exe virtus de Stonhenges.
“In Aufrik were þey compassed & wrought;
“Geauntz til Irland þennes hem brought,
“& sette þem on an hil ful hey
“Wiþ engyns ful queyntely.
“ffirst when þey ware compassed newe,
“Þey dide gret god to þem þat knewe;
“þo þat were seke, or had laught skaþes,
“Wasche þe stones, did hit in baþes;
“Þat felde hem greued of grettere þynges,
“Wasched þem of þe selue waschinges,
“& warysched wel of al þer pyne;
“Had þey non oþer medycine.”
“Geauntz til Irland þennes hem brought,
“& sette þem on an hil ful hey
“Wiþ engyns ful queyntely.
“ffirst when þey ware compassed newe,
“Þey dide gret god to þem þat knewe;
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“Wasche þe stones, did hit in baþes;
“Þat felde hem greued of grettere þynges,
“Wasched þem of þe selue waschinges,
“& warysched wel of al þer pyne;
“Had þey non oþer medycine.”
When þe kyng herde of þer vertu,
Þat þey myght falle þe folk to prw,
He had longyng for þem to go,—
& of þat wyl wer oþer mo,—
Þe stones to Bretaigne for to brynge,
Þat Merlyn made of sermonynge.
Þey chosen Vter, þe kynges broþer,
Þe kyng ofred hym self þat oþer;
Of folk þey ladde fyftene þousand,
Agayn þe Irische for to stand;
Wyþ þem wente daunz Merlyn,
ffor þo stones to make engyn.
When Vter wyþ his folk was ȝare,
To schip þey went, ouer se to fare,
& aryued vpon þat cost.
Þe Irisch kyng gadered his host;
Ageyn þe Bretons þey cam right ȝerne,
Þe lond þyf þey myghte þem werne.
Þe Irisch kyng þat regned þar,
His name was sire Gwylomar;
When he wyste why þat he cam,
& so fer viage for stones nam,
He scorned þem on his langage,
‘So fer for stones to make passage,
‘Ouer se til an oþer lond,
‘ffor þey no stones hender fond;’
& seyde, “þe stones þey schold haue here,
“Þey schul by hem first ful dere;
“ffor ȝyf we may, þey schul nought spede,
“Þe stones out of my land to lede.”
He scorned & seyde, “hit schal be nought,
“Þey schul faille þat þey haue sought.”
Þys kyng byhig[h]t hem foul despit,
Bot wykke þey were to desconfyt.
So longe he manased & þret,
Atte laste to-gydere þey met.
At þeyr metyng, hit was nought lyte
When þey gonne to-gyder smyte.
fful wel foughte boþe partys,
Bot þe Bretons wan sone þe pris;
Þe Irische couþe nought so wel feight,
Ne of armure þey hadde no sleight,
Ne þer-of were so wel bone,
Þer-fore þe Irische fledde ful sone;
ffro stede to stede þey fledde to sculk,
On heþ & hilles to hyde in hulk.
When Bretons hadde don þat chace,
& rested þeym a gret[e] space,
Merlyn had þem alle at ones
To þe hil to se þe stones.—
Kylomare highte þe hyl
Þer þe geauntz broughte þem tyl.—
Þat þey myght falle þe folk to prw,
He had longyng for þem to go,—
& of þat wyl wer oþer mo,—
Þe stones to Bretaigne for to brynge,
Þat Merlyn made of sermonynge.
Þey chosen Vter, þe kynges broþer,
Þe kyng ofred hym self þat oþer;
Of folk þey ladde fyftene þousand,
Agayn þe Irische for to stand;
Wyþ þem wente daunz Merlyn,
ffor þo stones to make engyn.
When Vter wyþ his folk was ȝare,
To schip þey went, ouer se to fare,
& aryued vpon þat cost.
Þe Irisch kyng gadered his host;
Ageyn þe Bretons þey cam right ȝerne,
Þe lond þyf þey myghte þem werne.
Þe Irisch kyng þat regned þar,
His name was sire Gwylomar;
When he wyste why þat he cam,
& so fer viage for stones nam,
He scorned þem on his langage,
‘So fer for stones to make passage,
‘Ouer se til an oþer lond,
‘ffor þey no stones hender fond;’
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“Þey schul by hem first ful dere;
“ffor ȝyf we may, þey schul nought spede,
“Þe stones out of my land to lede.”
He scorned & seyde, “hit schal be nought,
“Þey schul faille þat þey haue sought.”
Þys kyng byhig[h]t hem foul despit,
Bot wykke þey were to desconfyt.
So longe he manased & þret,
Atte laste to-gydere þey met.
At þeyr metyng, hit was nought lyte
When þey gonne to-gyder smyte.
fful wel foughte boþe partys,
Bot þe Bretons wan sone þe pris;
Þe Irische couþe nought so wel feight,
Ne of armure þey hadde no sleight,
Ne þer-of were so wel bone,
Þer-fore þe Irische fledde ful sone;
ffro stede to stede þey fledde to sculk,
On heþ & hilles to hyde in hulk.
When Bretons hadde don þat chace,
& rested þeym a gret[e] space,
Merlyn had þem alle at ones
To þe hil to se þe stones.—
Kylomare highte þe hyl
Þer þe geauntz broughte þem tyl.—
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