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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| LXXI. | CHAPTER LXXI. |
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 | CHAPTER LXXI. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun |  |
166
CHAPTER LXXI.
How Iulius Cesar wes done to deidThrou tressoune in his awne steid.
Foure score of ȝeris bot ane less
Befor þat God of Mary wes
Borne, of Frans the regionis
To Cesar and sevin legiones
Gevin and deliuerit wer,
And wan of weire within v. ȝere.
Off Tyburtyne þe grete cete
With his powere distroyit he;
All France and Brettane syne of weire
To Rome he maid baith tributere,
And a brig he gert mak syne
Attour þe gret watter of Ryne.
All Ducheland syne he our raid,
And tributere to Rome it maid.
Befor þat God of Mary wes
Borne, of Frans the regionis
To Cesar and sevin legiones
Gevin and deliuerit wer,
And wan of weire within v. ȝere.
Off Tyburtyne þe grete cete
With his powere distroyit he;
All France and Brettane syne of weire
To Rome he maid baith tributere,
And a brig he gert mak syne
Attour þe gret watter of Ryne.
All Ducheland syne he our raid,
And tributere to Rome it maid.
All thir dedis quhen he had done
To Rome he tuke his vayage sone,
For till haue bene in that cete
With mare honour, as thocht he,
For his hie worschip resauit,
Bot ȝit thareof he wes dissauit;
For thai of Rome fra him thus
Inclynit þan to Pompeyus,
And wald on na wyss till him do
Sic honour as efferit him to,
Na wald nocht mak of thare tresoure
His costis, as thai did befor.
Agane thare willis þan forthi
In to the tovne for his mastry
He enterit, and in hy he brak
There tresoure house, and syne can tak
Off thare tresoure a gret deill,
Baith of money and ioweill;
And sowth in weris syne he past
Till he in Spayne come at the last;
And, for to tell ȝow now schortly,
All tyme him fell the victory.
In Ytaly syne turnyt he
To fecht with Pompeyus menȝe,
And Pompeyus with stoutnes
To fecht with him arrayit wes.
Quhare, efter strang and hard batall,
Pompeyus fast begouth to faill,
And Pompeyus at þe last
Turnyt abak and fled full fast,
And passit throu [Asy] to Tyre,
And syne till Egipt, quhare of he wes syre.
That tyme þe king Schir Tholonie
There tuke and gert sla this Pompe.
Syne of his fingere he gert ta
His ring, and his heid alsua
He gert smyte of, and baith he send
To Iulius Cesar in presend,
That in till Alexandere abaid,
Fra he þe chaiss of Pompe maid.
Quhen he þe heid saw and þe ring
Off Pompey, þan in greting
He fell, and menyt saire þat he
Off þat manere suld endit be.
To Rome he tuke his vayage sone,
For till haue bene in that cete
With mare honour, as thocht he,
For his hie worschip resauit,
Bot ȝit thareof he wes dissauit;
For thai of Rome fra him thus
Inclynit þan to Pompeyus,
And wald on na wyss till him do
Sic honour as efferit him to,
Na wald nocht mak of thare tresoure
168
Agane thare willis þan forthi
In to the tovne for his mastry
He enterit, and in hy he brak
There tresoure house, and syne can tak
Off thare tresoure a gret deill,
Baith of money and ioweill;
And sowth in weris syne he past
Till he in Spayne come at the last;
And, for to tell ȝow now schortly,
All tyme him fell the victory.
In Ytaly syne turnyt he
To fecht with Pompeyus menȝe,
And Pompeyus with stoutnes
To fecht with him arrayit wes.
Quhare, efter strang and hard batall,
Pompeyus fast begouth to faill,
And Pompeyus at þe last
Turnyt abak and fled full fast,
And passit throu [Asy] to Tyre,
And syne till Egipt, quhare of he wes syre.
That tyme þe king Schir Tholonie
There tuke and gert sla this Pompe.
Syne of his fingere he gert ta
His ring, and his heid alsua
He gert smyte of, and baith he send
To Iulius Cesar in presend,
That in till Alexandere abaid,
Fra he þe chaiss of Pompe maid.
Quhen he þe heid saw and þe ring
Off Pompey, þan in greting
170
Off þat manere suld endit be.
Iulius Cesare þat tyme þare
Aryvit in the Yle of Faire,
And of that ile lord þan wes
A man of gret mycht, Achilles;
Agane þis Cesare he tuke fycht,
Thare slane wes mony douchty knycht
Off Iulius Cesaris cumpany,
And thare thai slane were halely
That Pompeyus men first slew.
Than Iulius till his schippis drew,
And in that passage þan he wes
Set in till sa hard distres
That in till bait quhen he
Wes gane and [in] it maid entre,
Throu the gret charge þat it bare,
In the se it sank rycht saire;
Bot fra that bait in to þe se
He lap, and thare in swomand he
Held on till his schippis fast;
Twa hundreth paiss sa he past,
Haldand outwith the watter ay
His a hand as he swame þat day,
And sa held all his letteris dry,
In his hand closit prevely,
Till his galay quhill þat he
Come and in it maid entre.
Off Alexander þe ost alhaill
On se gaif him thare batall,
Quhare baith thare navyne and thare king
Wes takin thare throu hard fechting;
Bot thare king of curtasy,
At thare asking rycht thraly,
He leit pass hame but ransone fre,
And frendfully him counsalit he
All his besynes to set
Off the Romanis for to get
Frendschip, tendernes and luf,
And nakyne weire agane þaim mufe.
Aryvit in the Yle of Faire,
And of that ile lord þan wes
A man of gret mycht, Achilles;
Agane þis Cesare he tuke fycht,
Thare slane wes mony douchty knycht
Off Iulius Cesaris cumpany,
And thare thai slane were halely
That Pompeyus men first slew.
Than Iulius till his schippis drew,
And in that passage þan he wes
Set in till sa hard distres
That in till bait quhen he
Wes gane and [in] it maid entre,
Throu the gret charge þat it bare,
In the se it sank rycht saire;
Bot fra that bait in to þe se
He lap, and thare in swomand he
Held on till his schippis fast;
Twa hundreth paiss sa he past,
Haldand outwith the watter ay
His a hand as he swame þat day,
And sa held all his letteris dry,
In his hand closit prevely,
Till his galay quhill þat he
Come and in it maid entre.
Off Alexander þe ost alhaill
On se gaif him thare batall,
Quhare baith thare navyne and thare king
172
Bot thare king of curtasy,
At thare asking rycht thraly,
He leit pass hame but ransone fre,
And frendfully him counsalit he
All his besynes to set
Off the Romanis for to get
Frendschip, tendernes and luf,
And nakyne weire agane þaim mufe.
Bot ȝit the king, fra he wes fre
And set þus in his awne pouste,
Left his counsall, all forȝet,
And for the weire alhaill him set;
Bot throu this Iulius he wes qwit
Our se efter þat discomfyt,
And twenty thousand of his men
Were slane in to þat iurnay then,
And xii. thousand men wes thare
Slane with Iulius Cesar.
Thre score and ten of galais lang
Wes lossit and drownyt in þat thrang,
And in þat press also thare king,
That wes of age ioly and ȝing,
In to that batall wes sa mait
That prevely he gat a bait,
And on the land þan wald haif past,
Bot Iulius ost on him sa fast
Followit, and with sa gret press
That slane in to þe fecht he wes,
And efter þat apon þat sand,
Quhare mony bodyis slane þai fand,
And casting vp, þat king wiþ crovne
Thai knew weill be his haberioune
With gilt malȝeis, for in þat place
Like till it nane funding wes.
Till Alexander þan Iulius send
That haberione, for thai it kend,
And for dispaire the toune þan wes
Ȝoldin vp to Cleopatras,
To quham þis Iulius gaif alhail
Off Egipt all the gouernall.
And set þus in his awne pouste,
Left his counsall, all forȝet,
And for the weire alhaill him set;
Bot throu this Iulius he wes qwit
Our se efter þat discomfyt,
And twenty thousand of his men
Were slane in to þat iurnay then,
And xii. thousand men wes thare
Slane with Iulius Cesar.
Thre score and ten of galais lang
Wes lossit and drownyt in þat thrang,
And in þat press also thare king,
That wes of age ioly and ȝing,
In to that batall wes sa mait
That prevely he gat a bait,
And on the land þan wald haif past,
Bot Iulius ost on him sa fast
Followit, and with sa gret press
That slane in to þe fecht he wes,
And efter þat apon þat sand,
Quhare mony bodyis slane þai fand,
174
Thai knew weill be his haberioune
With gilt malȝeis, for in þat place
Like till it nane funding wes.
Till Alexander þan Iulius send
That haberione, for thai it kend,
And for dispaire the toune þan wes
Ȝoldin vp to Cleopatras,
To quham þis Iulius gaif alhail
Off Egipt all the gouernall.
And syne he past throu Surry,
And wan gret landis and senȝeory,
And efter þat to Rome come he,
And wes relevit till hieare gre;
For dytour þat tyme thai him maid,
And for counsall als but baid.
Syne Spayne and Affrik baiþ of weire
To Rome he maid þaim tributere,
And efter that in Rome wes he
Ressauit with gret rialte.
And wan gret landis and senȝeory,
And efter þat to Rome come he,
And wes relevit till hieare gre;
For dytour þat tyme thai him maid,
And for counsall als but baid.
Syne Spayne and Affrik baiþ of weire
To Rome he maid þaim tributere,
And efter that in Rome wes he
Ressauit with gret rialte.
Than vii. monethis and thre ȝere,
Quhen all thir weris endit were,
The stait he held as emperour,
And in worschip and honour;
Bot with twa traytouris syne, allace!
He wickitly distroyit wes.
The tane of thai hecht Cassyus,
And the tother wes callit Brutus;
And ȝit men said at sexty ma
Wes consentand to thai twa,
That in to court all sodanely
Stekit him rycht fellonly
With scharp punsonys, and thai [thair]
Fourty and xx. woundis saire
Gaif him, and þus þat thai
Wes fellonly him slayand swa,
And he amang þaim þare bledand,
He stude vp, and with his rycht hand
Off his skyrt a lap he schare,
And couerit þare with his ene baire,
And with his vthir hand held doune
The tother lap þare of his govne
Behind him laygh, þat nane suld se
Spot, fylth na vnhoneste
Behind him in his doun falling,
And thus it wes his last ending.
Quhen all thir weris endit were,
The stait he held as emperour,
And in worschip and honour;
Bot with twa traytouris syne, allace!
He wickitly distroyit wes.
The tane of thai hecht Cassyus,
And the tother wes callit Brutus;
And ȝit men said at sexty ma
Wes consentand to thai twa,
176
Stekit him rycht fellonly
With scharp punsonys, and thai [thair]
Fourty and xx. woundis saire
Gaif him, and þus þat thai
Wes fellonly him slayand swa,
And he amang þaim þare bledand,
He stude vp, and with his rycht hand
Off his skyrt a lap he schare,
And couerit þare with his ene baire,
And with his vthir hand held doune
The tother lap þare of his govne
Behind him laygh, þat nane suld se
Spot, fylth na vnhoneste
Behind him in his doun falling,
And thus it wes his last ending.
After þat xxvi. ȝere
Off his eild wes passit cleire,
His body deid the pepill syne
Beriit, and maid of marbill fyne
A pillare xx. fut on hicht,
And it þai gert be set vp rycht
In the merget, and þare gert þai
The powdyre and the banys lay.
Off his eild wes passit cleire,
His body deid the pepill syne
Beriit, and maid of marbill fyne
A pillare xx. fut on hicht,
And it þai gert be set vp rycht
In the merget, and þare gert þai
The powdyre and the banys lay.
Off Iulius deid, as I herd tell,
In Rome vnkouth takynnis fell;
Befor his dede the hundreth day
Off fyrflaucht fell brynt alway
The first letter of his estate
The men apon his ymage wrait,
Quhen it wes first vpset
Evin in to the myd mercat.
In Rome vnkouth takynnis fell;
Befor his dede the hundreth day
178
The first letter of his estate
The men apon his ymage wrait,
Quhen it wes first vpset
Evin in to the myd mercat.
C that letter capitalle
Is set in nomer vsuall
For a hundreth, and forthy
The Romanis had a fantasy
That C of Cesare wes away,
That about þe hundreth day,
Quhare in moneth or in moment,
Be the last day, thare entent
Off that nomere were hoverand,
And sodand signis abydand.
Is set in nomer vsuall
For a hundreth, and forthy
The Romanis had a fantasy
That C of Cesare wes away,
That about þe hundreth day,
Quhare in moneth or in moment,
Be the last day, thare entent
Off that nomere were hoverand,
And sodand signis abydand.
Off the nycht nixt gane biforne
That Iulius slane wes on þe morne,
As he in his awne chalmer lay
In till his bed lang forow day,
A sudane thud maid sic a frusch
That all the wyndois at a brusche
Off his chalmer quhare he lay
Brak vp, and he in a fray
Stert out of his bed with þat,
And lichtly one his [solis] gat
For all þat houss richt þan he wend
Off his lif þan suld maid end.
Quhen he wes dede within his hand
Thai prive letteris writtin fand,
That warnyng of his deid had bene,
Gif [he] befor wald þaim haif sene.
That Iulius slane wes on þe morne,
As he in his awne chalmer lay
In till his bed lang forow day,
A sudane thud maid sic a frusch
That all the wyndois at a brusche
Off his chalmer quhare he lay
Brak vp, and he in a fray
Stert out of his bed with þat,
And lichtly one his [solis] gat
For all þat houss richt þan he wend
Off his lif þan suld maid end.
Quhen he wes dede within his hand
Thai prive letteris writtin fand,
180
Gif [he] befor wald þaim haif sene.
In till this ilk tyme in Scotland
Gede oure the Pightis wes regnand.
Gede oure the Pightis wes regnand.
The stait of Rome first gouernyt wes
With kingis, befor consules,
Twa hunder ȝeris foure score and sevin,
As Frere Martyne reknys evin;
Four hundreth winter and twenty
And foure to þai, to compt lely,
Off Rome þe gret stait gouernyt wes
All be chosin consules,
That till this Iulius Cesare haill
Tuke till him þe gouernall.
With kingis, befor consules,
Twa hunder ȝeris foure score and sevin,
As Frere Martyne reknys evin;
Four hundreth winter and twenty
And foure to þai, to compt lely,
Off Rome þe gret stait gouernyt wes
All be chosin consules,
That till this Iulius Cesare haill
Tuke till him þe gouernall.
| CHAPTER LXXI. The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun | |