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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| Epistola Bruti ad Regem Grecorum. |
 | The Story of England |  |
Epistola Bruti ad Regem Grecorum.
“For þe schame & þe outrage“þat ys don þe noble lynage
“Of kynge Dardan, our auncessour,
“At meschef ys in deshonur,
“In cheytifte longe haue þey leyn,
“Bot now þey hope to come ageyn;
“Wiþ o wille alle haue þey spoken,
“In o conseil alle ar þey loken—
“& wyþ þeym alle y am leued—
“Me to haue to þer heued;
“I sende to þe þer alder sawe,
“Þat to þe wode þey wil hem drawe;
“Þer ys hem leuere lyue yn wo,
“In wyldernesse wyþ bestes go,
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“Þan in þraldam haue plente;
“No maugre þou þeym cone
“Þaw þey wolde in fredom wone;
“Hit ys þer kynde fredom to haue;
“ffor þat whylom was lord, now ys he knaue.
“Merueille þe nought ȝyf þey haue grace,
“ffraunchise & fredom to purchace,
“ffor ilk man wolde—ȝyf he myght—
“In fredom lyue, als hit ys ryght.
“Þerfore þey pray þe wiþ gode wille—
“And y comaunde for drede of ylle—
“Þat heþen forward þou graunte hem fre,
“& namore in þy seruage be.
“Sire kyng, we aske þe bot skyle;
“Graunt vs to go wher þat we wyle.”
Whan þe kyng had herd þys writ,
Hym merueillede out of wyt
Þat þe Trogens were risen on heighte,
Þat þey wolde ben fre oþer feyghte.
He dide swythe make somons
ffor alle his erles and barons,
& ffor his broþer sire Antygon,
Sire Anacleton, & oþer on;
He telde hem þey of Troye were rysen,
& þoughte to make hem alle agrisen.
Hym merueillede out of wyt
Þat þe Trogens were risen on heighte,
Þat þey wolde ben fre oþer feyghte.
He dide swythe make somons
ffor alle his erles and barons,
& ffor his broþer sire Antygon,
Sire Anacleton, & oþer on;
He telde hem þey of Troye were rysen,
& þoughte to make hem alle agrisen.
Whan Brutus wiste al þer bost,
Þat þe kyng purueyed an host,
Byforn y þe kynges weye
Brutus did hym enbusche & leye
Wiþ þre þousand armed & mo,
Þer kyng Pandras wende sauely go.
Bot Brutus ros of his enbuschement,
& slow al þat he myghte hent;
Þe Gregeys schadden sone asonder;
Þey were vnarmed, hit was no wonder;
Intil a water highte Akalon,
Þyder in flowe many on,
And drenkled þere a wel gret frape;
Þe oþere he closed, [t]hey myghte nought skape;
Many were drenkled, and mo were slayn,
Þe kynge þer fledde wiþ gret payn.
Þat þe kyng purueyed an host,
Byforn y þe kynges weye
Brutus did hym enbusche & leye
Wiþ þre þousand armed & mo,
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Bot Brutus ros of his enbuschement,
& slow al þat he myghte hent;
Þe Gregeys schadden sone asonder;
Þey were vnarmed, hit was no wonder;
Intil a water highte Akalon,
Þyder in flowe many on,
And drenkled þere a wel gret frape;
Þe oþere he closed, [t]hey myghte nought skape;
Many were drenkled, and mo were slayn,
Þe kynge þer fledde wiþ gret payn.
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