The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun printed on parallel pages from the Cottonian and Wemyss mss., with the variants of the other texts: Edited with introduction, notes, and glossary by F. J. Amours |
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| LXXVIII. | CHAPTER LXXVIII. |
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 | CHAPTER LXXVIII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
CHAPTER LXXVIII.
Off Wespasiane and of Titus
And of þare liffing vertuouse.
And of þare liffing vertuouse.
Eftir þat borne wes God of Hevin
Thre score of ȝeris and ellevin,
Waspasyane wan halely
All þe landis of Surry
To þe empyre, and that day
About Ierusalem he lay
With his oste of gret powere,
Assegiand it as man of weire,
Quhen be letters till him send
He [saw], and be þare tennoure kend
That he wes chosin emperour.
That stait þarefor with gret honoure
He resauit in Palestyne;
His sone Titus he cald þat tyme,
And till him he commendit haill
Off all his oste þe gouernaill.
To Rome syne past he in hy,
Thare he resauit wes honorably,
And hugely commendit was
Off his hie worschip and prowes.
Syne in the flukis hapnit him to de,
As mony dois oft, as we se;
Bot in till his lattyr thraw,
To deid quhen he begouth to draw,
Evin vpon his feit he stude,
And said with a haill voce and gud:
“Ane emperour suld ay,” said he,
“Hyare þan þe erd be.”
Thre score of ȝeris and ellevin,
Waspasyane wan halely
All þe landis of Surry
To þe empyre, and that day
About Ierusalem he lay
With his oste of gret powere,
Assegiand it as man of weire,
Quhen be letters till him send
268
That he wes chosin emperour.
That stait þarefor with gret honoure
He resauit in Palestyne;
His sone Titus he cald þat tyme,
And till him he commendit haill
Off all his oste þe gouernaill.
To Rome syne past he in hy,
Thare he resauit wes honorably,
And hugely commendit was
Off his hie worschip and prowes.
Syne in the flukis hapnit him to de,
As mony dois oft, as we se;
Bot in till his lattyr thraw,
To deid quhen he begouth to draw,
Evin vpon his feit he stude,
And said with a haill voce and gud:
“Ane emperour suld ay,” said he,
“Hyare þan þe erd be.”
And in that thraw he tuke þe deid;
Titus his sone raiss in his steid,
Off Rome lord and emperour,
And gouernyt it thre ȝeris with honour;
He tuke and gert distroyit be
Off Ierusalem the cete,
And of þe Tempill he tuke haill
All ennormentis and weschaill,
And one to Rome all þai he send;
Syne brynt þe Temple or he wend,
And slew þe ceteȝanis all doune.
Thare wes þe confusioune
That ony man befor herd tell,
That euer to the Iowis fell;
For of the slane Iowis the blude
Throu out the toune in till a flude
One heid as welterand wawis ran,
Or as a ryuere waxen þan.
With suerd thare mony Iowis ware
Slane, and mony deit thare
In hungyre, for the Romanis haill
Consumyt and held fra thaim vittaill;
And of the Iowis that þaim ȝald
To the Romanis thare thai sald
Ay xxx. for a penny thare;
Ȝit sellaris ma þan byaris ware,
For þe Romanis þat tyme thocht
That þe Iowis na thing socht
Bot to be haldin in seruice;
That gert þaim sell þame of sic price.
In this Waspasyns dais
And Titus, as the story sais,
To Ierusalem this fell.
Titus his sone raiss in his steid,
Off Rome lord and emperour,
And gouernyt it thre ȝeris with honour;
He tuke and gert distroyit be
Off Ierusalem the cete,
And of þe Tempill he tuke haill
All ennormentis and weschaill,
And one to Rome all þai he send;
Syne brynt þe Temple or he wend,
And slew þe ceteȝanis all doune.
270
That ony man befor herd tell,
That euer to the Iowis fell;
For of the slane Iowis the blude
Throu out the toune in till a flude
One heid as welterand wawis ran,
Or as a ryuere waxen þan.
With suerd thare mony Iowis ware
Slane, and mony deit thare
In hungyre, for the Romanis haill
Consumyt and held fra thaim vittaill;
And of the Iowis that þaim ȝald
To the Romanis thare thai sald
Ay xxx. for a penny thare;
Ȝit sellaris ma þan byaris ware,
For þe Romanis þat tyme thocht
That þe Iowis na thing socht
Bot to be haldin in seruice;
That gert þaim sell þame of sic price.
In this Waspasyns dais
And Titus, as the story sais,
To Ierusalem this fell.
Bot of Titus mare to tell,
He wes of sa gret curtasy,
Off sic pete, will and mercy,
That quhen aganis his persoune
Men ware of conspiratioune
Accusit, and convict be law,
Eftir iugisment he wald thaim draw,
And kyss þaim, and forgif þaim all
That till his awne persone suld fall,
And als hamelely with thaim thare
Tak as it neuer na ware,
And got þaim oft syss forgifnes
To lat þaim mend thare wickitnes.
Als he excedit in larges
All thai that befor him wes,
Or in his tyme of ony degre;
For quhy that day clene tynt callit he
That na man come till aske him ocht;
For quhat euer till him socht,
He denyit neuer nathing
That wes be ressoune his asking;
For he vsit oft to say
That nane suld sary pass away
Fra ony prince, or lord or king,
That come to ask ony ressonable thing.
He wes sa worschipfull and vertuouss,
And of dedis sa mervalus,
That with all folkis of alkyne eild
He wes haldin thare bliss and beild,
And efter, quhen that deid wes he,
All folkis of dyverse cuntre
Gret for him and maid sic caire
That mony of þaim had levare
Till haif seyne seire of vþer kyn deid
Or he had deit that wes thare reid.
For his gret hie benignite,
His worschip, vertu and bounte,
He passit his fader in gud fame,
And reknyt is forow him by his name,
As in þe ryall and vertuouse buke
Ȝe may find writtin, gif ȝe luke.
He wes of sa gret curtasy,
Off sic pete, will and mercy,
That quhen aganis his persoune
Men ware of conspiratioune
Accusit, and convict be law,
Eftir iugisment he wald thaim draw,
And kyss þaim, and forgif þaim all
272
And als hamelely with thaim thare
Tak as it neuer na ware,
And got þaim oft syss forgifnes
To lat þaim mend thare wickitnes.
Als he excedit in larges
All thai that befor him wes,
Or in his tyme of ony degre;
For quhy that day clene tynt callit he
That na man come till aske him ocht;
For quhat euer till him socht,
He denyit neuer nathing
That wes be ressoune his asking;
For he vsit oft to say
That nane suld sary pass away
Fra ony prince, or lord or king,
That come to ask ony ressonable thing.
He wes sa worschipfull and vertuouss,
And of dedis sa mervalus,
That with all folkis of alkyne eild
He wes haldin thare bliss and beild,
And efter, quhen that deid wes he,
All folkis of dyverse cuntre
Gret for him and maid sic caire
That mony of þaim had levare
Till haif seyne seire of vþer kyn deid
Or he had deit that wes thare reid.
For his gret hie benignite,
His worschip, vertu and bounte,
He passit his fader in gud fame,
274
As in þe ryall and vertuouse buke
Ȝe may find writtin, gif ȝe luke.
Quhen Petyre, Lyne and Clete wes deid,
Sanct Clement sat in to thare steid
Nyne ȝeris pape and monethis twa,
And tene dayis fully to thai.
Eftir bapteme first ordanit he
Cristin men confermyt to be,
But it he said at na man mycht
Full Cristin men be callit rycht;
And syne to deid dispitously.
He wes put and to martery,
And that wes done throu Traiane,
That emperour of Rome wes þan,
And in the se his body lay
And lyis ȝit unto this day,
In þat kirk at foundit wes
Throu angellis deid and Goddis grace;
And fra none of his evin beforne
Till his evinsang on þe morne
The se standis ebbit, at men may ga
To þat kirk pilgrimage to ma,
Quhare mony faire myrakle is kyd,
As his legend witnessid.
Sanct Clement sat in to thare steid
Nyne ȝeris pape and monethis twa,
And tene dayis fully to thai.
Eftir bapteme first ordanit he
Cristin men confermyt to be,
But it he said at na man mycht
Full Cristin men be callit rycht;
And syne to deid dispitously.
He wes put and to martery,
And that wes done throu Traiane,
That emperour of Rome wes þan,
And in the se his body lay
And lyis ȝit unto this day,
In þat kirk at foundit wes
Throu angellis deid and Goddis grace;
And fra none of his evin beforne
Till his evinsang on þe morne
The se standis ebbit, at men may ga
To þat kirk pilgrimage to ma,
Quhare mony faire myrakle is kyd,
As his legend witnessid.
There efter Domytiane, the toþer
Off Waspasitianis sonis, Titus broþer,
Xiiii. ȝeris of þe empyre
And v. monethis wes lord and syre.
He wes in his begynnyng
Off gret mesoure in all thing,
Bot efter in his stait wes he
A viciouse man in all degre,
That of his fadere þe gud name
And of his brother þe ryall fame
He fordid all halely
Throu his vice with his fellony.
The nobilest of the senatouris,
That [were] the wisest counsalouris,
He gert to fellone deid be done;
Syne him self he gert call sone
A god of powere and of mycht.
A kirk thereof he gert dycht,
A figour of him self gert he
Off siluer fyne tharein set be,
Or ellis of gold rycht fyne and pure,
Weill fassonyt as of payntour.
First to lordschip quhen he drew
His syster sonis all he slew;
Nixt efter Nero the fellovne
He maid first persecutioun
Off Cristin folkis, and thare fay
Supprisit and held vnder ay;
And þocht þat þis Domytiane
Wes sone to gud Waspasiane,
Ȝit wes he of condicioun
Mare like to Nero the felloune,
Than to fader or broþer to be
Like in till ony degre.
Off Waspasitianis sonis, Titus broþer,
Xiiii. ȝeris of þe empyre
And v. monethis wes lord and syre.
He wes in his begynnyng
Off gret mesoure in all thing,
276
A viciouse man in all degre,
That of his fadere þe gud name
And of his brother þe ryall fame
He fordid all halely
Throu his vice with his fellony.
The nobilest of the senatouris,
That [were] the wisest counsalouris,
He gert to fellone deid be done;
Syne him self he gert call sone
A god of powere and of mycht.
A kirk thereof he gert dycht,
A figour of him self gert he
Off siluer fyne tharein set be,
Or ellis of gold rycht fyne and pure,
Weill fassonyt as of payntour.
First to lordschip quhen he drew
His syster sonis all he slew;
Nixt efter Nero the fellovne
He maid first persecutioun
Off Cristin folkis, and thare fay
Supprisit and held vnder ay;
And þocht þat þis Domytiane
Wes sone to gud Waspasiane,
Ȝit wes he of condicioun
Mare like to Nero the felloune,
Than to fader or broþer to be
Like in till ony degre.
Als the ewangelist Sanct Iohne,
That duelt þan in Ephesone,
And the ewangelis opinly
Wes prechand than throu Asy;
Forthy þis ilk Domytiane
Gert him arestit be and tane,
And put to presonne in þat ile
That Pathmos hecht; sa in that quhile
The Apoculipsis thare he wrait,
And exild baid sa in þat stait
Till that this Domytiane
Throu þe senatouris wes slane.
That duelt þan in Ephesone,
278
Wes prechand than throu Asy;
Forthy þis ilk Domytiane
Gert him arestit be and tane,
And put to presonne in þat ile
That Pathmos hecht; sa in that quhile
The Apoculipsis thare he wrait,
And exild baid sa in þat stait
Till that this Domytiane
Throu þe senatouris wes slane.
And in till his tyme Sanct Dionyse
And his feris in till Parise
Off dede tholit the passioun;
The temple þan of Pantheoun,
Quhare þan wes Sanct Mary þe Round,
Agrippa Marcus þat gert found,
And þan þat temple, as men sais,
Thus gatis wes foundit in þai dais.
And his feris in till Parise
Off dede tholit the passioun;
The temple þan of Pantheoun,
Quhare þan wes Sanct Mary þe Round,
Agrippa Marcus þat gert found,
And þan þat temple, as men sais,
Thus gatis wes foundit in þai dais.
That quhen þe senatouris herd tell
That the Persantis raiss rebell
Agane þe stait of Rome, þan haill
Thai ordanit apon set counsall
To send furþ Marcus Agripa
Apone þe Persantis weire to ma,
For he wes provest of þe tovne
And commendit of renovne;
To þis thai thocht him for to trete,
Bot, or thai his will mycht get
For to schaw thaim his entent,
He askit thre day avisment.
That the Persantis raiss rebell
Agane þe stait of Rome, þan haill
Thai ordanit apon set counsall
To send furþ Marcus Agripa
Apone þe Persantis weire to ma,
For he wes provest of þe tovne
And commendit of renovne;
To þis thai thocht him for to trete,
Bot, or thai his will mycht get
For to schaw thaim his entent,
He askit thre day avisment.
Sua in his sleip, apone a nycht,
A ȝoung lady, faire and brycht,
Apperit till him quhare he lay
In till his bed, lang forouth day,
And said scho hecht Sibill, but less,
That moder of all goddis wes.
Scho said there to this Agrippa
That gif he till her hecht wald ma
In þe honour of hir as scho
Couth and [wald] teche him to do,
To mak a temple, þat Persantis quyt
He suld in batall discomfyte.
To þat sone he gaif assent,
And awowit in þat entent
For to fulfill in till all thing
Off þat faire ladyis ȝarnyng.
And on þe morne, quhen day wes lycht,
All, as he saw in sleip þat nycht,
To þe senatouris he tald haill,
And syne gert ordane his batall
With a gret navyne on the se,
And knychtis wicht of gret bounte
In v. legionis, and with þai quyte
The Persantis haill he discomfyte,
And agane þe tribut wan
That þai payit to Octoviane.
Syne for þis causs he maid onone
That temple þat þai callit Pantheone,
In honour of Sibill, but less,
That wes haldin þan a goddess.
280
Apperit till him quhare he lay
In till his bed, lang forouth day,
And said scho hecht Sibill, but less,
That moder of all goddis wes.
Scho said there to this Agrippa
That gif he till her hecht wald ma
In þe honour of hir as scho
Couth and [wald] teche him to do,
To mak a temple, þat Persantis quyt
He suld in batall discomfyte.
To þat sone he gaif assent,
And awowit in þat entent
For to fulfill in till all thing
Off þat faire ladyis ȝarnyng.
And on þe morne, quhen day wes lycht,
All, as he saw in sleip þat nycht,
To þe senatouris he tald haill,
And syne gert ordane his batall
With a gret navyne on the se,
And knychtis wicht of gret bounte
In v. legionis, and with þai quyte
The Persantis haill he discomfyte,
And agane þe tribut wan
That þai payit to Octoviane.
Syne for þis causs he maid onone
That temple þat þai callit Pantheone,
In honour of Sibill, but less,
That wes haldin þan a goddess.
282
And in the tyme Domytiane
Throu his vnhap þe dede hes tane,
And fell þare a schamefull ending
For his wickit and euill liffing;
With his þan slane he was
Rycht sodanely in his palace,
And Nerwa, quhen he wes dede,
Wes emperour in till his steid.
Bot this emperour stude nocht a ȝere
And four monethis, to rekin cleire;
He vndid and dampnyt haill,
As wes gevin him be counsall,
All þe statutis befor, ilkane,
Off the felloune Domytiane,
For þai foundit all of will,
And ordanit outher but law or skill.
Sa be that ordinance Sanct Iohne
The ewangelist to Ephesone
Passit agane of presoune fre,
Quhare weill ressauit with all wes he.
Throu his vnhap þe dede hes tane,
And fell þare a schamefull ending
For his wickit and euill liffing;
With his þan slane he was
Rycht sodanely in his palace,
And Nerwa, quhen he wes dede,
Wes emperour in till his steid.
Bot this emperour stude nocht a ȝere
And four monethis, to rekin cleire;
He vndid and dampnyt haill,
As wes gevin him be counsall,
All þe statutis befor, ilkane,
Off the felloune Domytiane,
For þai foundit all of will,
And ordanit outher but law or skill.
Sa be that ordinance Sanct Iohne
The ewangelist to Ephesone
Passit agane of presoune fre,
Quhare weill ressauit with all wes he.
| CHAPTER LXXVIII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |