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 transfretauit, & Orchades cepit. |
 | The Story of England |  |
Hic transfretauit, & Orchades cepit.
When þat was pesed & brought til ende,
Til Island [Arthur] dight hym to wende.
Island sone al he wan,
ffor lord þey knew hym ilka man.
Goneweys þe kyng of Orkeneye,
How Arthur wan, wel herde he seye;
So dide Doldan of Gotland,
& Rumarek þe kyng of Wentland;
Tyl alle þre was hit told
Þat Arthur was a conquerour bold.
Þyse þre kynges, þey hym dredde
ffor þe gret host þat he ledde;
Þey durste nought stande hym ageyn,
Ne þey ne hadde non host certeyn,
Ne þey ne wolde þer lond destruye,
Ne hym ne þeym to-gedere noye.
Þe beste consail þey toke on hand,
& wente to Arthur into Island,
& for þeyr landes made alle pes.
Arthur þem þanked þat þey so ches;
Louely tok he þer alle here fewte,
ffor þey come alle so wyþ wylle fre.
Til Island [Arthur] dight hym to wende.
Island sone al he wan,
ffor lord þey knew hym ilka man.
Goneweys þe kyng of Orkeneye,
How Arthur wan, wel herde he seye;
So dide Doldan of Gotland,
& Rumarek þe kyng of Wentland;
Tyl alle þre was hit told
Þat Arthur was a conquerour bold.
Þyse þre kynges, þey hym dredde
ffor þe gret host þat he ledde;
Þey durste nought stande hym ageyn,
Ne þey ne hadde non host certeyn,
Ne þey ne wolde þer lond destruye,
Ne hym ne þeym to-gedere noye.
Þe beste consail þey toke on hand,
& wente to Arthur into Island,
& for þeyr landes made alle pes.
Arthur þem þanked þat þey so ches;
Louely tok he þer alle here fewte,
ffor þey come alle so wyþ wylle fre.
When al was syker & certeyn,
Til Ingland he turnde ageyn;
& when þey wyste þat he cam,
Wyþ ioye alle a-geyn hym nam.
Twelf ȝer after þat comyng,
In reste & pes he regned kyng,
Þat neuere on hym no werre bygan,
Ne he ne werrede vpon no man.
He tok so mykel of curtesy,
Wyþoute techyng of any hym by,
þat non ne mighte conne more,
Neyþer þorow kynde, ne craft of lore.
In alle answeres he was right wys,
Of alle manhede he bar þe pris;
Of non þat tyme ne was swylk speche,
Þat til his nobleye mighte reche,—
Nought of þe Emperour of Rome,—
Þat he ouer hym ne bar þe blome;
In alle manere þat kynge schold do,
Non oþer hadde such grace þer-to.
He ne herde neuere speke of knyght
Þat losed was of dedes wyght,
Þat he ne ȝerned hym for to se,
& for to haue hym of meyne;
ȝyf he for mede serue hym wolde,
He ne lefte for seluer ne for golde.
Til Ingland he turnde ageyn;
& when þey wyste þat he cam,
Wyþ ioye alle a-geyn hym nam.
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In reste & pes he regned kyng,
Þat neuere on hym no werre bygan,
Ne he ne werrede vpon no man.
He tok so mykel of curtesy,
Wyþoute techyng of any hym by,
þat non ne mighte conne more,
Neyþer þorow kynde, ne craft of lore.
In alle answeres he was right wys,
Of alle manhede he bar þe pris;
Of non þat tyme ne was swylk speche,
Þat til his nobleye mighte reche,—
Nought of þe Emperour of Rome,—
Þat he ouer hym ne bar þe blome;
In alle manere þat kynge schold do,
Non oþer hadde such grace þer-to.
He ne herde neuere speke of knyght
Þat losed was of dedes wyght,
Þat he ne ȝerned hym for to se,
& for to haue hym of meyne;
ȝyf he for mede serue hym wolde,
He ne lefte for seluer ne for golde.
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