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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De nobilitate Arthury. |
 | The Story of England |  |
De nobilitate Arthury.
But in þyse twelf ȝeres tyme
ffel auentures þat men rede in ryme;
In þat tyme were herd & sen
Þat somme seye, þat neuere haþ ben.
Of Arthur ys seid many selcouþ
In diuerse landes northe & souþ
Þat men holdeþ now for fable,
Be þey neuere so trewe ne stable.
Al ys nought soþ, ne nought al lye,
Ne al wysdam, ne al folye;
Þer nys no þyng of hym seyd
þat hit ne may be to godnesse leyd.
More þan oþere were his dedes,
Þat men of hym so mykel redes;
Ne were his dedes hadde be writen,
Of hym no þyng men scholde haue wyten.
Geffrey Arthur of Monemu,
He wrot his dedes þat were of pru,
& blamed boþe Gyldas & Bede,
Why þey wolde nought of hym rede,
Syn he bar þe pris of alle cristen kynges,
& write so litel of his preysynges,
& more worschip of hym spoke þer was
Þat of any of þo þat spekes Gildas,
Or of any þat Bede wrot,
Saue holy men þat we wot.
In alle landes wrot men of Arthur,
Hys noble dedes of honur:
In ffraunce men wrot, & ȝit men wryte,
But herd haue we of hym but lyte;
Þere-fore of hym more men fynde
In farre bokes, als ys kynde,
Þan we haue in þys lond:
Þat we haue, þer men hit fond;
Til Domesday men schalle spelle,
& of Arthures dedes talke & telle.
ffel auentures þat men rede in ryme;
In þat tyme were herd & sen
Þat somme seye, þat neuere haþ ben.
Of Arthur ys seid many selcouþ
In diuerse landes northe & souþ
Þat men holdeþ now for fable,
370
Al ys nought soþ, ne nought al lye,
Ne al wysdam, ne al folye;
Þer nys no þyng of hym seyd
þat hit ne may be to godnesse leyd.
More þan oþere were his dedes,
Þat men of hym so mykel redes;
Ne were his dedes hadde be writen,
Of hym no þyng men scholde haue wyten.
Geffrey Arthur of Monemu,
He wrot his dedes þat were of pru,
& blamed boþe Gyldas & Bede,
Why þey wolde nought of hym rede,
Syn he bar þe pris of alle cristen kynges,
& write so litel of his preysynges,
& more worschip of hym spoke þer was
Þat of any of þo þat spekes Gildas,
Or of any þat Bede wrot,
Saue holy men þat we wot.
In alle landes wrot men of Arthur,
Hys noble dedes of honur:
In ffraunce men wrot, & ȝit men wryte,
But herd haue we of hym but lyte;
Þere-fore of hym more men fynde
In farre bokes, als ys kynde,
Þan we haue in þys lond:
Þat we haue, þer men hit fond;
Til Domesday men schalle spelle,
& of Arthures dedes talke & telle.
371
Now ys Arthur of pleyn age,
He conseilled wyþ his baronage;
& his gode knyghtes hym redde,
Þat he had fostred & forþ fedde.
He seyde he wolde ouer se to Fraunce,
& wynne hit al wyþ dynt of launce.
But first he seide ‘he wolde to Norweye,
‘Þe kyng had sent hym bode he hoped to deye;
“& Loth, myn neuew, schal he his eyr;
“To make hym kyng y am in speyr;
“His neuew he ys, of next degre,
“Of blod ys non nerrer þan he.”
Right as he seyde, also he þought,
He wende þe barons wolde so haue wrought;
But when þey seye þat he was ded,
Þey toke þem til anoþer red:
Loth to haue, þey hym forsok,
& anoþer kyng þey tok;
ffor alle þey seide wyþ o mouþ,
‘Þey wolde haue no kyng vncouþ;
‘Þey hoped nought þey schold hym fynde
‘Als godliche as þer owen kynde.
‘Alyens,’ þey seyde, ‘he wolde auaunce,
‘Þat schulde be þeire appurtynaunce.
‘A heued þey wolde haue þem aboue,
‘Þat hem wolde auaunce & loue.’
Þorow þat consail & þat reson,
Rycolf þey ches, was a baron,
& coroned hym, & now ys kyng;
& þus haþ Lot lorn þat þyng.
“ffor help,” seid Arthur, “Loth haþ bysought;
“ffaille hym by no weye wol y nought;
“Y wolde his honur & [his] right,
“& þat schal y he[l]pe at my myght.
“Rycolfes coroune y wolde abate,
“Þat þe Noreys gef hym so late.”
He conseilled wyþ his baronage;
& his gode knyghtes hym redde,
Þat he had fostred & forþ fedde.
He seyde he wolde ouer se to Fraunce,
& wynne hit al wyþ dynt of launce.
But first he seide ‘he wolde to Norweye,
‘Þe kyng had sent hym bode he hoped to deye;
“& Loth, myn neuew, schal he his eyr;
“To make hym kyng y am in speyr;
“His neuew he ys, of next degre,
“Of blod ys non nerrer þan he.”
Right as he seyde, also he þought,
He wende þe barons wolde so haue wrought;
But when þey seye þat he was ded,
Þey toke þem til anoþer red:
Loth to haue, þey hym forsok,
& anoþer kyng þey tok;
ffor alle þey seide wyþ o mouþ,
‘Þey wolde haue no kyng vncouþ;
‘Þey hoped nought þey schold hym fynde
‘Als godliche as þer owen kynde.
‘Alyens,’ þey seyde, ‘he wolde auaunce,
‘Þat schulde be þeire appurtynaunce.
‘A heued þey wolde haue þem aboue,
‘Þat hem wolde auaunce & loue.’
Þorow þat consail & þat reson,
Rycolf þey ches, was a baron,
& coroned hym, & now ys kyng;
& þus haþ Lot lorn þat þyng.
372
“ffaille hym by no weye wol y nought;
“Y wolde his honur & [his] right,
“& þat schal y he[l]pe at my myght.
“Rycolfes coroune y wolde abate,
“Þat þe Noreys gef hym so late.”
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