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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 Subuersione fratrum.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

De Subuersione fratrum.

Alle olyke þer fore were wroþ,
& alle seide, & swore þer oþ,
In pes ne schold þey passe quyt,
Bot þey wer wroken on þat despit.
On þyse men tristed þe Romayns þo,
On Prosenna & on sire Gabao,
ffor þyse wer gon to Lumbardye
To procure Rome more partye.
After þeyn abyden þe Romayns;
A day to come þey sette certayns;
Þat day was ner of þer comyng,
Þe Romayns þat day mad þer samnyng,
& ber hem ful egrely & stout;
Þey armede hem, & isseden out,
& oþe breþere faste þey sought,
& þey ageyn ne spared hem nought.
Als þey foughten best in stour,
Com her chefteyns wyþ more socour;
Oþe breþere þey fullen alle on a res:
Þan were þey boþe in hard destres;
Þe Romayns vpon þe oþer partz,
Þat oþer side, Poyles & Lombartz,
& felde fele of þe Burgoylons,

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& calde þem “cowardz! hore sons!
“We schol ȝow do drynke ȝour owen blod,
“& spare oure water of Tyber flod!
“On þys half Moungow, what do ȝe,
“Vs to chalange of vur fe?
“& þat ȝe henge our children heye,
“Þat vilenye ȝe schulle abye!
“To ȝow was hit an yuel conseil;
“Þat schul ȝe fele to wroþer hayl.”
Wiþ suche vmbreides þey hem missayde,
& grete strokes vpon þeym leyde;
Obak a-geyn [þey] dide þem go,
& dide þem braye & crye for wo.
Belyn & Brenne were al dysmayed
Þat þe Romayns so þem affrayed;
Þe Bretons sawe þer syde ȝede lowe,
Þey rempede þem to reste a þrowe;
In þer restyng þey gan hem mene,
A parlement made þem bitwene,
& gadered þer folk a-geyn to fyght,
Armed hem newe, & renged hem right,
In sere batailles set þeym a sondres,
Boþe by þousands & by hundreds.
Of þe hardiest & defensables,
Made þey Mayster Conestables,
& bad hem in þer bataille holde,
Þat non fro oþer schold flitte ne folde.
[beside were set to þer socoure,
archers to maynten þam in stoure;
þe alblasters on þe toþer side,

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ilkon for oþer better to bide.
doun on fote þe moste gan light
on̄ fote þei renged þam to fight.]
Þo þat were strong, hardy, & wyght,
fformest þey were set to fyght;
Þey bere þe launces vp and doun,
On þe manere of a scheltroun;
& non for wele ne for wo
Ne scholde byforen oþer go,
Ne go swyþer þan softe paas,
At ones to smyte, as comeþ þe cas;
& non schold baldere þan oþer be,
Ne noman [schold] fro oþer fle.
When þey had set ilk a bataille,
On what manere þey schold assaille,
Trompe blewe, & greyles ronge,
On boþe parties þer batailles sprong.
On ilka side were strokes ynowe,
Speres dide þem breste & bowe;
After þe speres þat þey set,
Syþen wiþ swerd & knyf þey met;
Ilk oþer on ran ilk oþer to styke;
Vpon þe dede ȝede þe quyke.
Al to telle hit, nought y ne can,
Bot loren was þer many a man;
Þe Bretons seye non oþer weye,
Þey most wel fyghte, oþer elles deye;
Oþer al to wynne, or al to lese,
Þat on of þo byhoued hem chese.
Þe best fyghters ber forth þe brest,

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Archers & arblasters þem next;
Þe Myle[ne]rs & þe Centaynes
ffolewed faste on þo Romaynes;
Sire Galbao, þer gouernour,
He bated hym o þe Bretons stour;
Bot slayn was sire Galbao,
Þat al þer trist was vnto;
& Prosenna was brought right doun,
On hem þe Bretons wonne þe toun;
Prosenna þey tok a[l] quyk;
Þey persed þe Romayns bataille þyk,
& al þer force doun þey slow,
& to þe cite faste þey drow.
Þe toun might þey defende namore,
Þe cheftayns were slayn þat þer wore;
Þe breþere come vntil þe cite,
& founde þer-inne richesse plente.
Belyn gaf Brenne al þe empyre,
And he was Enperour & sire;
Þe folk of hym þey had gret doute,
His fomen þorow force dide þem aloute,
[Long he regned Emperoure]
Þat neuere dirst Romayn stire in his stour.
Belyn to Bretayne þen gan turne,
He wold no lengere þer soiourne;
& when he com vntil þis lond,
Þe olde cites þat he fond,
He closed þem, & mad hem newe,
Þe walles he reisede trist & trewe.
In Walys he dide make a toun;
Kaerusik he caldit on bretoun,

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ffor hit stande vpon Vsk,
A water þat rennes by bank & busk;
Siþen men caldit Kaer-legion:
List now what was þe enchesoun.
Whylon Romayns had þis lond
In þer demeynes, in þer hond;
Whan Romayns com for þer truage,
At Kaerusyk þey helde hostage,
& þere þey made most dwellynge,
ffor þer was gret ese of mikel þyng;
At Kaerusyk in Clamorkan,
In wynter þey dwelt þer, ilkaman;
& for þey had so longe þer hold,
Kaer-legion þe name was told.
Com after, men of diuerse language,
Þat schortly to speken haue in vsage,
And schorted hit wyþ name & soun,
And afterward kaldyt Carlyon;
Bot legion ys noumbre of folk þat wex,
Sex þousand, sex hundred, sexti & sex;
Þus many alwey fro Rome com,
Þat ay for truwage to Carlyon nom.
Whan Belyn Carlion had set,
Þe walles he reysed, & folk to fet;
To Londone þenne tok he þe way,
And þer he dwelled many a day.
Þer dide he a gate by-gynne,
Ouer þe water, þer schipes come ynne;
& ouer þat gate he made a tour,
Þer-inne he held [ful] long soiour.

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He reysed alle his fader lawes,
& dide þem holde by his dawes;
Dom he gaf wysly & right,
Trowþ held he wel wiþ al his myght.
Mykel pleynte was in his tyme,
On no mannes more may men ryme;
Longe he lyuede, longe to welde,
& faire he ended in his elde;
ffor of þat gate þat Belyn aught,
Of Belyn [þen] þe name hit laught;
Longe men caldit til now late,
After Belyn, Belynes gate;
Þorow schort langage, y tolde er how
Byllyngesgate men calle hit now.