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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| LXXXVII. | CHAPTER LXXXVII. |
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 | CHAPTER LXXXVII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
CHAPTER LXXXVII.
Heir it tellis for quhat ressoune
Sanct Lowrens tholit passioun.
Sanct Lowrens tholit passioun.
Eftir þe dede of papis sevin
Sanct Sixt held þe se thre ȝeris evin,
Xi. monethis and vi. dayis.
Befor þat, as þe story sais,
As legait in Spanȝe he past,
And þare þe Cristin treuth he prechit fast,
And twa faire ȝoung men þare he fand,
Honest, abill and avenand;
The tane be name wes callit Laurens,
And þe toþer wes callit Vincens.
Thir twa luffit Sixt specialy,
And with him wes contynewaly
Till he wes in Spanȝe prechand.
Syne, quhen he turnyt of þat land,
For lufrent þai with him past,
And come to Rome sa at þe last;
And in to Rome Sanct Laurens baid,
And with Sanct Sixt his duelling maid,
That maid him þan his kepare,
And at his liking deliuerare
Off all his gud and his tresoure
That Phillip emperour that befor
Had deluerit quhen he past
Out of þe land, as ȝe herd last,
Fra Dycius cruelte, þat wes fell
Till Cristin men, as ȝe herd tell.
Quhen þis Sixt wes pape of Rome,
And kepare haill of Cristindome,
He ordanit preistis for to say
Thare mess on hallowit altaris ay,
That were perfitly maid of stane,
Quhare befor his tyme wes nane
That sa vsit on to say mess.
Throu martyrdome syne slane he was
Wnder Dycius ȝoung, þat syre
That lord wes syne of þe empyre.
Sanct Sixt held þe se thre ȝeris evin,
Xi. monethis and vi. dayis.
Befor þat, as þe story sais,
As legait in Spanȝe he past,
And þare þe Cristin treuth he prechit fast,
And twa faire ȝoung men þare he fand,
Honest, abill and avenand;
The tane be name wes callit Laurens,
And þe toþer wes callit Vincens.
Thir twa luffit Sixt specialy,
And with him wes contynewaly
378
Syne, quhen he turnyt of þat land,
For lufrent þai with him past,
And come to Rome sa at þe last;
And in to Rome Sanct Laurens baid,
And with Sanct Sixt his duelling maid,
That maid him þan his kepare,
And at his liking deliuerare
Off all his gud and his tresoure
That Phillip emperour that befor
Had deluerit quhen he past
Out of þe land, as ȝe herd last,
Fra Dycius cruelte, þat wes fell
Till Cristin men, as ȝe herd tell.
Quhen þis Sixt wes pape of Rome,
And kepare haill of Cristindome,
He ordanit preistis for to say
Thare mess on hallowit altaris ay,
That were perfitly maid of stane,
Quhare befor his tyme wes nane
That sa vsit on to say mess.
Throu martyrdome syne slane he was
Wnder Dycius ȝoung, þat syre
That lord wes syne of þe empyre.
Efter þat Valeriane
And Galiene þe dede had tane,
This Dycius ȝoung wes rycht felloune,
And maid gret persecutioun
Apone Cristin folkis alway,
And held þaim euer at vnder ay,
And mony marteris gert he ma,
And þis ilk Sixt wes ane of þai
That vnder him tholit martyry.
And Galiene þe dede had tane,
380
And maid gret persecutioun
Apone Cristin folkis alway,
And held þaim euer at vnder ay,
And mony marteris gert he ma,
And þis ilk Sixt wes ane of þai
That vnder him tholit martyry.
Sanct Laurens, þat wes neire him by,
And saw þis persecutioun,
And him led till his passioun,
Askit him: “Quhether, fader, now
Without minister passis þov?
Thou wes neuer wont on na wiss
To do but minister Goddis seruice.
Leif me nocht þarfor, fader deire,
Thus anerely behind þe heire;
For all thi tresour spendit is,
That þov deliuerit me, I wiss.”
And saw þis persecutioun,
And him led till his passioun,
Askit him: “Quhether, fader, now
Without minister passis þov?
Thou wes neuer wont on na wiss
To do but minister Goddis seruice.
Leif me nocht þarfor, fader deire,
Thus anerely behind þe heire;
For all thi tresour spendit is,
That þov deliuerit me, I wiss.”
And Cesar, þis ȝoung Dycius,
Herd him speik of tresoure thus;
He bad Sanct Laurens at he suld bring
Furþ þat tresoure but delaying,
And Sanct Laurens of dais thre
Askit delay, sa þat he
Mycht all þat tresour samyn get;
And þis ȝoung Dycius þan, but let,
Thocht till haif gottin all þat tresour,
And grantit him delay þarfor.
And in þe menetyme Sanct Laurens
Gaderit with all deligens
Off pure folkis a huge menȝe,
Waik for eild and febilte,
And vther þat in neid were stad,
And gret myster of mending had,
And closit þaim all prevely
In till a house, and syne in hy
He ȝeid to ȝoung Dycius, emperour,
And bad him cum and his tresoure
Se and resaif, gif that him thocht
That it were worþ or ganyt oucht.
With þat Dycius went in hy
With Sanct Laurens rycht blithly,
For till haif gottin þan thocht he
Off gold and siluer gret plente.
Sanct Laurens þan vndid þe dure,
And said: “Lo heire, Schir Emperour,
Off the kirk haill the tresour,
Quhare of I maid þe hecht befor,
That maist may to þi saull availl,
And neuer mare forsuth sall faill;
This is the trew tresoure, I wiss,
That bringis manis saull to bliss.”
And quhen þis cursit Dycius
Saw he wes begylit thus,
He wes sa full of teyne and ire
That he gert kyndill a mekle fyre,
And þarin rostit Sanct Laurens;
With vther tormentis and pennans
To Ihesu Crist his saull he send
With him to duell withoutin end.
Herd him speik of tresoure thus;
He bad Sanct Laurens at he suld bring
Furþ þat tresoure but delaying,
And Sanct Laurens of dais thre
Askit delay, sa þat he
Mycht all þat tresour samyn get;
And þis ȝoung Dycius þan, but let,
382
And grantit him delay þarfor.
And in þe menetyme Sanct Laurens
Gaderit with all deligens
Off pure folkis a huge menȝe,
Waik for eild and febilte,
And vther þat in neid were stad,
And gret myster of mending had,
And closit þaim all prevely
In till a house, and syne in hy
He ȝeid to ȝoung Dycius, emperour,
And bad him cum and his tresoure
Se and resaif, gif that him thocht
That it were worþ or ganyt oucht.
With þat Dycius went in hy
With Sanct Laurens rycht blithly,
For till haif gottin þan thocht he
Off gold and siluer gret plente.
Sanct Laurens þan vndid þe dure,
And said: “Lo heire, Schir Emperour,
Off the kirk haill the tresour,
Quhare of I maid þe hecht befor,
That maist may to þi saull availl,
And neuer mare forsuth sall faill;
This is the trew tresoure, I wiss,
That bringis manis saull to bliss.”
And quhen þis cursit Dycius
Saw he wes begylit thus,
He wes sa full of teyne and ire
384
And þarin rostit Sanct Laurens;
With vther tormentis and pennans
To Ihesu Crist his saull he send
With him to duell withoutin end.
This Dycius ȝoung þat I spak are,
Wes nocht callit August, bot Cesare,
And fra þe gud Octoviane
All the emperouris ilkane
To titill Cesare August had.
Bot for þis Dycius had [mad]
Off Perss his awne intrusioun,
Forthy þe less wes his renovne,
For [nouthir be] rycht of lynage,
Na ȝit be law of heretage,
Off Rome he wes maid emperour;
Thus for his stait and his honour
Wes þe less, baith in his fame
And the titill of his name.
Wes nocht callit August, bot Cesare,
And fra þe gud Octoviane
All the emperouris ilkane
To titill Cesare August had.
Bot for þis Dycius had [mad]
Off Perss his awne intrusioun,
Forthy þe less wes his renovne,
For [nouthir be] rycht of lynage,
Na ȝit be law of heretage,
Off Rome he wes maid emperour;
Thus for his stait and his honour
Wes þe less, baith in his fame
And the titill of his name.
| CHAPTER LXXXVII. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |